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[jensthwa]

mountebank chem pt. three (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 16.5k (dear god).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, this chapter is truly them being cute and barely fighting which is ???, healthy competition i think, they get a serious case of the silly goose at some point, mentions of drinking at some point, gyuri being an overprotective friend, meeting new people, emotional talk involving kids yall will see why, pet names (princess), descriptions of female and male anatomy, first kisses!! *the crowd cheers*, a little bit of dry humping... *the crowd boos* and unresolved feelings!!!! *the crowd AND y/n leave in angry tears*.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's part three of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. so, so sorry it took so long but i had a bit of a writer's block these past months :(. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of this series and the rest of the stories of this universe on my masterist! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 5th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part two - part four - epilogue.

There's this image of you that flashes across Yunho’s mind. 

It happened right before he fell asleep last night, too, and he's having a hard time figuring out if he only dreamed it or if it actually happened. 

The skin on your back glistening, the cut of the dress after he pulled down the zipper just enough to not be disrespectful. 

He did it out of instinct, out of the sudden familiarity he felt between you both. He did it because, before he had the genius idea of helping you with your dress (to get it off in some way, what the fuck is wrong with him), you were really close to his face and he couldn't think straight for the remainder of the time he was in your presence. 

There was a time in his life where the mere thought of you brought discomfort to him. It kinda brings discomfort to him now, too, but it's a different kind of discomfort. It's dull, it's confusing and it's angering at the same time because, if he was sure of something before, it was the fact that he never really wanted to be near you. 

You were the bane of his existence when you two were kids, something that was forced on him the second your parents wanted and he despises the lack of control and freedom he's always had around you. 

And now there's a flash of you genuinely laughing at him for blushing after the old lady from last night gave him some not-so-innocent compliments in front of everyone. There's a flash of you defending him when you really didn't need to, even if you stated otherwise. 

There's a flash of you wiping the corners of your mouth after finishing the food he made you, a visage that completely besots him. 

He never really wanted to kiss you. 

Only once, at your graduation party, but that was drunk him and playing spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven really did a number on his teenage hormones at the time. 

He remembers the bottle landing on the girl next to you and the guy next to you and the guy next to the guy next to you. Yunho kissed them all with the hope of kissing you at some point that night. Just because he was curious, because deep inside of him he knew your parents plans all along. 

He didn't get to do it, though, and so it didn't really matter; the wish died as soon as he woke up the next day with a huge hangover and a dry mouth. Yesterday, he thought the same would happen if he went to sleep and dreamed about anything but you. 

That, of course, didn't happen. 

Now he’s just left trying to figure out what the fuck is going on exactly as the memory of your lips and the sting of annoyance that follows the thought of him wanting you in any way other than fifty feet apart distracts him from whatever his friends are saying right now. 

“He lost his fucking mind,” Gyuri stands in front of him, hands on her hips and furrowed brows like a mother who’s scolding her troubled child. She collapses on the couch behind her a second later, next to her best friend who’s giggling at her and her reaction “He’s not even answering to me.” 

They called for an emergency meeting at San and Wooyoung’s place, as expected. He was supposed to see them on saturday anyway but now he gave the friend group a reason to hang out a day earlier. Seonghwa did too, but his story, apparently, is more interesting than the oldest sudden girlfriend. 

In a way, they both got out of nowhere partners. But the friend group is hanging out a day earlier than expected so he’s not really sure why he’s being reprimanded for something so out of his control. 

They don't know this is out of his control. Maybe that's why. 

Wooyoung takes a sit in front of him, on top of the wooden table separating the space between the tv and the couch and puts a hand on his shoulder, like a father who’s trying to be on his side of things without offending his wife “Care to explain yourself, Yunho?” 

He decides to play pretend so he doesn’t have to think about it more than he needs to “Explain what?” 

As Gyuri gasps, Woo shakes his head before dramatically hanging it low.  

“God help you, my dear friend.” 

Gyuri gets up again and Wooyoung gets up as well, stepping aside so he can give space to her to regard poor little him with the angriest look ever directed at an innocent man.

He thanks Mingi for opening the front door of the apartment right at that moment. 

Behind him, Mingi’s girlfriend, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa follow suit. San is in the kitchen finishing the dishes and Jongho is at school, taking a quiz or something, he thinks. 

He didn’t really read the group chat like that. They just requested his presence and he spawned in the apartment half an hour later.

But he didn't take into account that he was seeing Mingi that day too. Mingi, his best friend for a few years now, the only person he should've actually told what was going to happen yesterday night. 

He fucked up. 

“Can you let the man explain himself, Gyuri?” Mingi asks, down on one knee and helping his girl take off her shoes. Yunho wants to roll his eyes but Mingi is, after all, head over heels for her. 

How is he going to explain to them that he’s not head over heels over his new, sudden girlfriend? That, in fact, he thought he despised her until yesterday. 

And that now he’s not able to shake her from his thoughts even if he desperately wants to. 

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks and Gyuri turns and points at him. 

“We’re talking to you after we talk to him.” She makes a show of her threat, her pointed finger moving to Yunho’s forehead and slightly pushing him back on his seat. 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and plops down on the couch, next to San’s girlfriend “Oh, my God.” 

“I’m sorry,” she tells him with a tiny smile “She’s freaking out today.” 

Wooyoung turns the tv on. His laptop is connected to it through a long, orange cord and when Yunho turns to the screen, it shows a picture of him and you with plastic smiles that look too real. 

If only people knew. 

“This is what’s going on,” he says, pointing to the image and then leaning into his laptop to click a new tab “The Jeong and Kim empires merge into one after their youngest announce they’re in a relationship at yesterday’s twenty year celebratory gala,” reading directly from the article, Yunho manages to cringe at the wording of it before Wooyoung turns to him “Since when, bitch?” 

Yunho opens his mouth to reply but both Yeosang and Seonghwa make a surprised noise. 

“Oh?”

“Isn’t she…?” Yeosang looks at him “Is she?”

He nods and Yeosang claps, mumbling a I knew it under his breath. 

“So that’s what she meant when she told me I looked familiar, she knows you!”  Seonghwa smiles a little and then his expression turns into a frown, like he just realized something he shouldn't “When did you start dating her?”

“Well, actually—”

“And didn’t tell us?” Mingi’s girlfriend looks very offended but he can tell she’s half joking, especially when Mingi smirks a little and then joins her with a pout. 

His best friend looks at him a second too long, though and that lets him know he might be a little offended. 

Mingi opens his mouth to speak but a choir of voices stops him from doing so and Yunho breathes out his regret for even showing up and for not explaining everything to Mingi first. 

“What do they mean ‘merge their empires’. Are you getting married?” 

“When did you even meet her?”

“Through his family, I suppose.” 

“Are you getting married?” 

“So did you cheat on her like two months ago with that girl from the bar?” 

“No, no, he didn’t hook up with the girl, that was Hongjoong.” 

“Sure I did,” he says and gives Yunho a look, like he doesn’t remember who they’re talking about “Yuyu, can I be the main groomsman?” Hoonjong asks as San returns with a snack plate on his hand and he takes it from him when he offers it, putting some chips on his mouth immediately “Hwa, too. We're the oldest, so.” 

Mingi scoffs “And I’m literally his best friend, don’t even try it.” 

“That’s literally me, oh my God? Liar?” 

Yunho is starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the amount of noise he normally would contribute to. 

Right now? He wants everyone to shut up while he finds a way of explaining everything and not sound completely insane in the process. 

It’s quite the normal concept, he thinks. Arranged matrimonies are a thing in a lot of cultures and in his it’s more subtle than anything, not quite what it used to be, but they’re still there especially for families like his. 

He’s not getting married, he should also clarify that. But as Mingi takes hold of Wooyoung’s laptop and scrolls through the article and then turns to him asking for an explanation with his eyes instead of his words, all the coherent sentences he just put together in his mind die on his tongue. 

Mingi is not really one to pry, but his stare tells him that he’s a little bit concerned with everything. After all, he’s the only one who understands the full complicated history Yunho has with his family. 

“Guys,” he says, all mischievousness wiped out of his face “let him explain and don’t interrupt.” 

The noise quiets down and everyone looks at him, expectant and curious. Now that he’s able to untense his shoulders and take a calming breath, he also notices a few concerned stares that join Mingi in the sentiment. 

Alright. Okay. He can do this. 

Yunho sends his best friend a thankful smile before gulping down his nerves. 

“That’s Kim Y/N,” he points at the tv screen, although half of your face is cut off because Mingi scrolled down to read “I’ve known her since we were kids, her parents and my parents are really good friends and her dad helped my dad launch his company, so we were… They were celebrating that yesterday.” 

Everyone nods and then he catches Seonghwa’s eye “My brother and her brother are very good friends, too. You know Sukwon hyung, don’t you?” 

“Oh,” he seems taken by surprise by that “he’s a new client.” 

“I figured,” Yunho smiles, “He’s a good guy, just a little…” 

“Carefree?” Hwa offers. 

“Mhm. Anyways,” he shakes his head, trying to get back on track “Jeong Tech made a huge mistake a few months ago and so they decided to announce our relationship yesterday to kind of… Everyone loves Y/N,” he says quickly “She’s… We—” 

“Are you two together or not?” Wooyoung asks, clearly confused and when everyone shushes him he mutters his apologies. 

Yunho wants to answer him with the truth. He really does and it’s right there, ready to come out, but he thinks about you. About everything you told him yesterday, about how you actually seemed to care to please your parents.

He thinks about his own mother’s threats. 

And he knows it’s a little stupid wondering if someone in this room would tell, but he hesitates. 

It hurts him to hesitate but then someone speaks up. There, curled around San’s arm and peeling open an orange, his savior speaks up.

“Relationship of convenience,” she says softly and matter of factly, turning heads in her direction “What? I could’ve told you this two hours ago,” she points at Gyuri and Wooyoung “But you refused to explain! Come on, everybody,” giggling, she offers a freshly peeled slice to her boyfriend. “I work with books for a living, you work with books for a living!” She points at Woo again, “This trope is classic,” and then she looks back at him with a kind and honest smile. “You two do look good together, though. Are you friends, at least?” 

He hesitates. You both definitely, sort of, made amends last night. But it's a little weird and, suddenly, also hard to explain. 

Yunho thought the word friends would've just rolled out of his tongue naturally, as a little white lie to ease everyone's worries. Now, it hardly makes its way onto it so he just nods after a long pause that definitely raises suspicion on everyone's face. 

“We've known each other for a very long time, went to highschool together and everything,” that seems to eradicate some of the doubts, because San grins and turns to his girlfriend with a knowing smile that she returns. 

Gyuri is not as convinced “But are you friends?” 

“Yes,” he returns immediately after that, wanting the conversation to be over. He’s not lying, not really, not after what you both said yesterday “We are, we’re trying to be.” 

“So you hate the bitch. Got it.” Gyuri nods. 

Yunho takes offense to that, oddly enough. Because no, he doesn't hate you, not a little, not at all. 

He thinks. 

Besides, he confirmed yesterday that you're not much of a bitch and it hurts that Gyuri thinks you are one, but San’s girlfriend it's already handling that before he has the opportunity to defend you like you defended him. 

“Babe, don't call her that.” 

Gyuri raises her hands defensively “I'm just taking preventive action! What if she is a bitch?” 

“She's not.” Yunho says and they both turn their heads to him, Gyuri with a frown and her best friend with a knowing smile. 

What does she know that he doesn't? Beats him. 

Instead, he settles “She's just… Well, she's—” 

“Intense?” Gyuri offers. 

Wooyoung shakes his head and points to his ex “No, that's you.” 

For once, he's glad their bickering interrupts him because he doesn't really know how to describe you. What's his current opinion on you? He has no clue. It's weird, he hates it a bit, but the feeling is there and the words are on the verge of spilling out of his mouth.

San’s girlfriend gasps and then murmurs an excited: “I love enemies to lovers!”

“I don't think real people can fit into fictional tropes, babe,” Gyuri returns, taking a slice she's offering in her direction before eyeing Yunho “Or can they?” 

That he can answer “We're not enemies and we're definitely not lovers.” He says with a shrug. 

“You're something way worse then,” San’s girlfriend nods and then smiles in excitement “Can't wait!” 

“For what?” Yunho asks in a whisper but Mingi, thankfully, interrupts. 

“Why are they talking about marriage, then?” He asks, his concern is palpable and Yunho feels kind of bad. He feels really bad, actually. 

He could have told him this, at least. He could have talked about you, but the truth is that his mind avoided remembering you if not necessary; that’s how much you two seemed to hate each other.

Now? 

It’s kind of complicated not to think about you when you’re plaguing his mind, infecting it like a virus. 

Or painting it, like the canvases he saw in your room yesterday. 

Do you paint? Is that something you like to do in your free time? 

Why does he feel like he knows very little about you, all of the sudden? 

He groans and then shakes his head. 

“There’s no marriage, they’re getting ahead of themselves,” he clarifies. 

“Is there going to be a marriage?” 

There's movement on the screen now and he sees Mingi’s girlfriend scrolling unapologetically through the article. She's watching a video of the both of you posing together for a picture and there's something that pulls inside of him. His eyes attempt to water but he manages to keep his emotions down, locked up because there's a lot of feelings he won't put on his friends. 

He's sure they think of him as a dumb puppy who's actually very academically smart, just a little clumsy with his social interactions. He's been pretending he is, anyway. 

The only one who really sees through him is Mingi but even him, to some degree, has bought his immature act. And to some extent it became real for Yunho himself, too, so deep fears and sad emotions are off the table. 

So he pulls himself together and turns to his friend.

“I think she has an escape plan if our parents decide to marry us off to each other,” he admits, snorting out a laugh that’s a little bitter but more amused than anything, he shakes his head “So no, no engagement, no marriage.” 

“Why, what's wrong with you?” Gyuri asks, eyes squinted with prejudice and suspicion “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Well, that's not… Gyuri,” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not really knowing what to say to his friend's question, so he looks at Mingi with begging eyes “That's not really the point, right?” 

“Don't look at me, she's right,” Mingi shrugs, “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Because we're not in love!” 

Wooyoung scoffs “And yet you're a perfectly fine and rich young man, so why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“So we officially hate her, right?” Gyuri says and claps her hands before standing up again for the millionth time and heading his way. Her hands fall on his shoulders and he has to crane his neck to see her from below “Okay, then! What's the plan? Do we get rid of her?” 

“No!” 

“I could, if that's what you want.”

His head snaps at Hongjoong at the suggestion, disbelief writing on his face “I love you guys but the Yunho protection squad needs to dissolve right now, everything’s fine!” 

“Is it?” Mingi asks and Yunho takes his time to look at his best friend before nodding. 

“It is. We're supposed to break up eventually anyway,” air leaves his lungs in a long sigh and then he gulps a little, not really sure how to say what he wants to say without offending anyone. And Gyuri's hands are still on him, so the pressure doubles at the potential threat of physical harm that his next statement can get him. “Listen, I won't make any of you sign nda’s or anything like that because I trust you but please, please don't tell anyone this.” 

He looks around the room and sees wide eyes before they turn understanding and when his friends nod in agreement, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. 

Literally, Gyuri moves to sit next to Wooyoung who tries to put an arm around her and fails. 

“You're not that famous, Yunho,” Hongjoong kisses his teeth and the mood shifts into the lighthearted one he's used to “Unlike me. I'm a celebrity among my peers.” 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes “Yeah, because all the criminals turned music students turn guitarists of a nugu rock band worship you.” 

Hongjoong ignores him but his smile is tense and his eyes are squinted in fake joy when he speaks again “You are going to the gig tomorrow, right?” 

He laughs “Of course. I might be a little late but I'll get to see your set.” 

Hongjoong frowns “Why?” 

“I have a schedule now, so…” 

“Oh, my God,” San’s girlfriend squeaks, typing something in her phone and Yunho catches his friend fondly following with his eyes the sentences she's putting together “And what else do you have to do now?” 

“Babe, I hope you're not writing a story about this.” Gyuri warns but her friend ignores her and turns to Seonghwa. 

Who realizes right away what she's doing, gaping at her and her betrayal with feign hurt. Yunho gets it a second later and his lips curve upwards a little. 

“And what did you do to get a girlfriend so fast? It was the motorcycle, wasn't it?” 

Wooyoung gasps and Gyuri seems to remember suddenly that there were two important subjects to dissect on the table today, so she gets up again with her hands on her hips and stares at him like a distressed mother.

“What the hell were you thinking, Park Seonghwa? Girlfriend? You met her yesterday!” 

“Three days ago, but yes, maybe—” 

“Oh, three days ago! That's an eternity in dog years, right? Are you a dog, Seonghwa?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes practically meet the back of his head and Yunho has to stifle a laugh “Not a dog, Gyuri, just a guy.” 

She pauses and then makes a face. 

“That… Actually makes a lot of sense.” 

“We made the mistake of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend way too soon. But, to be fair, his text messages woke us up,” Seonghwa's finger is pointing to Yunho and he pouts as a response “Kind of, so we were sleepy and—”

“Sure, let's hang out tonight so you can meet my girlfriend,” Hongjoong reads directly from his phone and shakes his head. Yunho can't actually tell if he's offended or not “Not even a warning first.”

“I literally told you about her and you told me to go for it.” 

“Did I?” 

“Yeosang was there.” 

At the mention of his name, Yeosang looks up from his phone and smiles shyly at the oldest two “Correct.”

There's a bit of silence and then Hwa clears his throat softly. 

“She's going to be my girlfriend though,” he says, almost in a whisper but everyone hears him “So I don't know what the big deal is.” 

Wooyoung slumps from the couch to the ground with his eyes closed in defeat “Oh, dear God.” 

“The big deal is that—” 

Gyuri's voice fades to the background and he catches Hwa telling her that she's not his mother or something before tuning the discussion out. 

When he turns to his left, Mingi is still eyeing him to make sure he's okay. Yunho nods and smiles and then offers his hand to him, which he takes. 

Mingi's girlfriend turned off the laptop and is watching the interaction with a tiny contempt curve to her lips and, when Yunho catches a glimpse at San’s girlfriend from behind his friends built form (she's completely hiding behind him from all the chaos Gyuri is bringing to the living room), she catches his eye and then blinks one of hers in complicity. 

Again, Yunho wonders what she knows that he doesn't. 

But with the attention off of him, your face returns to his head.

So he's not really able to concentrate on anything else for the remainder of the hang out. When he finally, finally has his mind occupied by something else (San dared him to beat him at Mario Kart and Jongho brought food and drinks as an apology for completing his academic duties instead of showing up to the meeting), a text pops up from an unknown number. 

+82-5-059-6733: Hey. Added your number  from that stupid group chat our brothers made because telling each other things through our assistants makes me physically ill, hope you don't mind.  +82-5-059-6733: Actually, I don't really care if you mind. If you block me, I'll find another phone to text you on. +82-5-059-6733: Anyway, I'll send you the address of where we're going fashionably late tonight. It's an early drive so you're free to skip this (Do skip it please).  +82-5-059-6733: Jeong Yunho, do not ignore me or I swear to God…

He hates that, after reading his home screen, he has a smile on his lips. You sound both formal and pushy through text, too and he didn't think it was possible to have so much personality that it filters through writing as well. He's finding out new things about you and, although he made it a point to ask you to get along yesterday, it still feels really weird to do so.

When he turns to the screen again, he's down a few spots and San’s character speeds besides his in its kart. 

“Is it her?” San asks, looking at him for a second, a knowing smile on his lips. 

“It is but I'm not smiling because it's her,” he defends himself but there's a tint to his cheeks that might give him away. San laughs “Shut up. Your girlfriend’s schemes are rubbing on you.” 

At the mention, he catches through the corner of his eye as his friend turns to the mentioned girl and Yunho smiles again before he hears him sigh, completely and utterly in love. 

“Thank God.” 

He recovers on the game while San is distracted, passing him and winning the race. The sound of it ending makes San snap his head back and watch as Yunho relaxes on the couch in egotistical victory. 

“Ugh.” 

The sun is shining through the clouds even though it was supposed to rain again. There's a singular gray one moving ominously among the other ones and threatening to mess up what you planned for the day. 

It suspiciously moves past you and into the city when Yunho's car pulls up the hill. By the time he gets down, the sun is shining in full force and you roll your eyes when he regards you and your closed arms with a wink. 

What does he gain out of this? You've been wondering since that night if coming here is better than staying at home for the weekend. 

He could stay at his dorm, though. Is that an option? The curiosity you feel towards him now has completely taken over. It feels disgusting. 

Either way, you hate that he actually showed up. That means someone, somewhere around you, is going to casually document the thing you kept to yourself for a long time. No because it's a secret but because there's no real need for anyone to know that you do this. 

Your presence on social media is scarce, you have one open account that you use every six months (if you remember to use it at all) and the one you stalk people of your circle on. You have a twitter account that's private and not under your real name, a youtube account that doesn't really count as social media in your eyes and nothing else. 

No one needs to know you do these sorts of things. Then, you wouldn't be doing it out of the kindness of your heart but to get sympathy points. Even though you'll always do it because you want to and not because you have to. 

There's a lot of things you have to do, like your relationship with Yunho, but never this. 

You know it's only like five out of one hundred people who wish you ill but those few people are enough to tarnish the affection the kids have for you, the trust you worked so hard to gain the few years you've been trying to make this orphanage somewhat quality-of-life acceptable. 

You stumbled upon it one of those drunk early mornings where you had to walk around to get the alcohol out of your system before even daring showing up home or near it. Not because your family didn't know what you were up to, but because of the possible photographers roaming around the house. 

A drunk underage daughter was worse than anything back then. Maybe it is now, too, but you remembered the mistake you made the first time you got drunk and the absolute reaping your mother gave you. 

So when you locked eyes with a middle aged woman in the middle of nowhere after walking around half an hour before in heels, your almost-sober self pretended to be lost just to talk to someone and feel safe. The sun was barely showing that day and you were cold and sad and angry for not controlling yourself at the party and it must've shown in your face because you saw the woman taking a deep breath before offering you to step inside. 

At that hour, the kids were asleep. There were traces of them everywhere, though and you remember the way your heart sank at the lifeness of the space even in the still hours of the morning. 

It looked lived in, enjoyable and cozy. You never had that. Toys were put back in their place the second you got distracted by the tv or a book or when your mother said that was enough playing around for the day. Your room was always neat and tidy, put together and devoid of any evidence that you were real. 

That has changed a little now, but back then seeing something you didn't have struck something within you. There was obviously no way you would complain about it out loud, though. 

You had everything solved, your struggle has always been insignificant when compared with everyone else outside of your circle. It's fine, it's always been fine and the tears brought to your eyes when the middle aged woman put a hand on your shoulder and consoled you when she saw the environment was affecting you meant nothing. 

You tried to convince yourself they meant nothing and tried to keep your heart where it belonged: inside of your tinsel bubble, frozen and harsh so that no one takes advantage of you.

And then she managed to melt the ice not even five minutes into explaining what it was that they did there. She said her position wasn't permanent, that the district kept changing directors and that the quality of life they were able to give to the kids was acceptable at best. Not good, not what they deserved. 

Maybe that was the first time you took advantage of your privilege for something good. Because next thing you knew, you were putting together a presentation and pressing your father to do something about the home. 

Your mother was scandalized but she agreed to do something with your ideas if your brother was put on the front of the newspapers, inaugurating the renovations made to the place. 

Saturdays have been destined to the orphanage since then. They know not to put anything else on your schedule for the day, they know not to film you or send photographers per your request. Because your brother was already seen making the good deed a few years ago, so there's not really a way to take advantage of this anymore. 

Besides, the district still manages it and no amount of volunteering can help the fact that its administration and the decisions that they make are as dumb as you believing for a second that Yunho was going to take your advice and stay home today.

Yunho being here changes things, you know it does. Why did they put this in his new schedule if not? You thought it was a punishment for him but now you're not so sure. 

There's lack of movement, lack of press, lack of your mother's touch to it so you wonder what's the angle here. And, as usual, Yunho seems to be in the dark about the things plaguing your mind. 

You point at his outfit in retaliation when he gets near you and your mother’s assistant, who became yours for the day. 

“Is this what you could put together with such a long notice?” 

“You said casual.” 

“And this is your casual?” 

At some point these past few days, and after seeing all the pictures of you two together at the gala, you came to terms with Yunho’s attractiveness. Objectively, he's a handsome guy. His dad was handsome at one point, his mom is absolutely breathtaking and his brother is handsome as well. They're just a family of naturally physically gifted people, alright? 

But it is kind of unfair that he can look this good in flared jeans and a white fitted shirt, for fucks sake. He looks like he just got out of a Calvin Klein shoot… If the shoot was somehow made in the seventies. The black belt and the black boots with a tiny platform he's wearing add to the whole look and your eye twitches a little. 

He looks really fucking cool, actually but there's no way in hell you would ever accept that. Handsome? Sure. Cool? Your mind is tricking you somehow. 

It's that warmth that invaded your body when he made you food a few nights ago making you think nonsense. You want to desperately get rid of it. 

He scoffs but a tiny smile tugs at his lips when he looks you up and down “Is this yours?” 

Looking down at your wide leg trousers, your kitty heels and your short sleeved cotton top, you fail to see where the problem is. 

“Duh.” 

He whistles, low and for a few seconds and for a moment you think he's doing it because of you and your heart beats erratically until you realize his eyes are fixed on the orphanage.

You smile a little. 

These past few years you've been able to get funding and provide funding to it, so the renovations just keep coming and coming. It doesn't look like the one you found refuge on that morning a few years ago at all and it definitely doesn't look like the one your brother had the chance to be photographed with either. 

Right now, it has a little bit of your touch: It looks like an elegant structure, but a building that's also suitable for children to be in. It has a playground vibe to it, the exterior and the design of the new entrance you approved a few months ago only solidifies it.

The kids love it. You didn't exactly run the design through them but it would've shown if they didn't. 

They're very expressive, but decisive too. Bossy, even. You look at Yunho and you want to smile fully because he simply doesn't know what he got himself into. 

That proves to be true as the hours go by. The kids raise their eyebrows when they meet him, say hi to him with a bow and then turn to you for explanations. When you say that this is a new friend that's going to be helping out that day, you don't miss the way Yunho lights up a bit besides you. 

And then that light is completely stolen by hour three, you see it as he chases kids around the yard. It hurts that they acclimated so fast to him but, again, when you got there the first time the place wasn't really one where they felt completely safe. 

This proves that you helped change that. Good. 

There's a few of them, the older ones, that sit on the ground and stare daggers at Yunho like he's going to hurt the younger kids at any moment. These kids were practically toddlers when you met them and they had a hard time being around you when you started to show up regularly. 

They barely spoke a word and, when they did, they yelled at you for not playing with the toys like you were supposed to, or because you looked too clean and too pretty to be messing with paint or something of the sort. 

It took months for you to build that trust and now the oldest is a tween with shaggy hair and a scowl on his face because he thinks of Yunho the same way he thought of you when he was just a kid.  

He barely notices when you crouch next to him, the hand you put on his shoulder making him jump slightly. 

“I understand the feeling of wanting to punch Yunho in the face,” you start, smiling and then tilting your head a little “but you're going to burn a hole on his back if you keep staring at him like that, Hyunjoon.”  

“Then why did you bring him here?” His frown deepens and you shrug “We were just fine with everything here and now there's a stranger playing tag with my little brother,” he shakes his head “I don't like it.” 

Sighing and then turning to Yunho, you see the exact moment his attempts to escape Haejoon, Hyunjoon’s little brother, are sabotaged by Hyunjoon’s best friend, Soyi. 

“I think you're a little jealous.” 

“What?” 

You want to laugh when his head snaps at you, chest heaving in preteen anger at the word jealous. 

“Yeah, not because he's playing with Haejoon but because Soyi is there too,” you shrug again, readjusting your crouching position because it hurts your legs but there's no way you're sitting on the ground “You like her, Yunho is handsome and you're jealous.” 

He turns away from you and you laugh when he makes a disgusted face that then turns into mild discomfort and ends up being a full pout.

“We're fighting.” 

“You and Soyi?” He nods and you sigh “What is it now?” 

“I dunno.” He murmurs with a shrug. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I don't know what I did! Okay?”

There's this uncharacteristically amount of patience you have when it comes to these kids that don't run out even if they yell at you and cause a few heads to turn your way. It never really bothers you except today, when you know there's possibly someone monitoring your movements. 

Yunho’s assistant, most likely. You know yours is compliant and doesn't really give a fuck about what goes on here, her focus on her tablet the whole time, probably arranging things for her actual boss (your mom). 

“Have you asked her?” He shakes his head “Then maybe start by asking her, later today if you want,” you rush to clarify when you see him tense up at the idea “Or tomorrow or the next day but don't let silly things get in the way of your friendship with her, hm?” 

His pout returns and his eyes start to water a little but before you have the opportunity to make him laugh the sadness away, someone jogs towards you both. 

“Everything alright?” 

Yunho’s sweating, he's out of breath and squinting his eyes because of the sunlight and it reminds you of when you used to cross paths during recess, back in highschool. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Hyunjoon sulks and scoffs at him and, once again, you suppress your laughter. 

“We're fine. Did you need something?” 

“No, no, Soyi just asked me to—” He stops when Hyunjoon's reaction gives away the root of his sulking and you see him glance at you once. You don't give Hyunjoon secrets away, though. “She asked me to tell you that she's going to start counting in two minutes and you are both obligated to play.” 

“Ah, yes, the mandatory hide and seek of the day.” You nod and watch as Hyunjoon's eyebrows raise in interest “Tell her it's okay, that she can start counting now.” 

Yunho raises his eyebrows as well, curiosity on his face “And you're hiding too?” 

“It's mandatory, Yunho. Do you know what mandatory means?” 

He clicks his tongue “I obviously do, Y/N, it was a simple question. Do you have to—” 

“Don't speak to her like that, ahjussi!” 

Once again, Yunho is interrupted by Hyunjoon and this time you can't help but laugh at the pure shock on his face. It warms your heart that a kid that was once so reluctant to have you around is defending you and you think your expression might give the feeling away because Yunho says nothing in return, just nods once and then presses his lips together, fighting a smile “I'll go tell her, then.” 

“No!” Hyunjoon gets up quickly and you do too, your legs and feet thanking you “I'll do it, she's my best friend.” 

It's the threatening (and very cute) look Hyunjoon sends in Yunho’s direction before sprinting towards Soyi and his brother that breaks the both of you into giggles. 

Only when your laughter dies down is that you turn to Yunho, arms crossed as you look him up and down to assess the real damage caused these first few hours.

No other reason. 

“Thought you said these kids were tough.” 

You shrug and he smiles “They are but you came here with me, so they're going easy on you.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” Yunho nods and then turns over his shoulder. You do too, only to find Soyi with her hands over her eyes and counting already “Better don't get caught first, Kim.”  

Walking towards the spot you usually hide in when it's mandatory hide and seek time, you bump your arm with his in not-so-fake animosity. 

“You better not get caught, Jeong.” 

“Is that a dare?” He yells when you're almost out of reach. 

“I don't know,” you yell back “Is it?” 

You miss the way his eyes follow you until you're out of frame, until some kid whose name he doesn't remember grabs his hand and pushes him to hide because he stood in place long enough to almost get caught first. 

You do get caught in the first round but not before Yunho, so you count that as a win. The second round is trickier, Soyi banning some hiding spots like the natural leader she is, and so you get caught before Yunho. He does a little celebratory dance when he sees you in the yard before him. Ass. 

There's only one round left before they call everyone to clean up for lunch. 

Moving through the orphanage halls, you walk down the stairs that lead to the staff rooms before choosing one you know kids would not check if they don't caught you in plain sight: It's the one that has some panel windows on top of some lockers, to bring in some natural lighting because it was used as a classroom before.

Now, only boxes and dust live down there. But if you hide in the corner, there's no way you're getting caught before Yunho. 

You checked when you were upstairs. 

You giggle to yourself as you rest your back against the corner, taking your phone and unlocking it to find something to do while you await your very predictable victory in this pointless battle you and Yunho have going on. 

Only for it to be crushed when he enters the room and closes the door behind it. See, you obviously didn't lock it because that defeats the rules of the game. 

But maybe you should've. 

“Get out.” 

He seems startled when he hears your voice, clearly not expecting another soul to be there. “You blend so well into the wall, Y/N.” 

You don't bite the bait “Yunho, you're going to get both of us caught. Get. Out.” 

“How? I literally fit in here, too.” 

He gets into your space, a petty smile on his lips until your backside is completely flat against the wall.

You let out an indignant laugh and a breath at the same time because, from where you're shoved into the corner, he looks so dumb. 

And then the sunlight shifts a little and lands on his shoulder and you get reminded: You're going to get caught and it's going to be his fault. 

You want to yell at him to get out again but then hear laughter near the panel windows, so you whisper-shout instead “Find your own hiding spot, Yunho!” 

“I got kicked out of my last one!” He whispers-shouts back. 

“Well you can't have this one either!”

“We're going to be fine, Y/N,” he tries but at your scowl he laughs again “I'm perfectly hidden here and I'm hiding you.” 

“You're not perfectly hidden, idiot! You're like…” You move your hands, trying to replicate the broadness of his shoulders “You're huge.” 

“Yeah?” He seems pleased by your words and your eyes rolls on their own accord “I've been hitting the gym, so I'm glad it's showi—” 

“I don't care, get out!” 

You hear a scream and then laughter that follows it outside of the windows and your wide eyes peek around a little behind Yunho’s form to see what's going on. 

There, rolling on the grass and laughing hard, are Hyunjoon and Soyi. You see when she pushes him further into the ground and away from her, smiling like she usually does. She did seem a little sad today and you wondered why without intruding.

Learning about the fight made things click in your head and so now you're smiling wide because they potentially made up. 

The sound of someone gulping is what brings you back to reality and you crane your head up to catch Yunho staring at you with parted lips and soft eyes. Somewhere in the process of looking out of the panels, you ended up leaning into him and bracing yourself with your hand on his arm. 

You quickly keep your hands to yourself again, pushing your body into the corner one more time. 

“Sorry,” you say right away “I was just… They like each other and they were fighting today so I'm glad they, um…” You trail off. 

“Are not fighting anymore?” Yunho says for you and you're nodding frantically before you can help it “You seem better today.”

“Oh,” that catches you off guard and he notices, “It's never… It's never really as bad as what you saw a few days ago. You don't have to ask me about it.” 

“I didn't mean to… I was pointing it out to say that you seem different here.” 

“Different how?” 

“Relaxed,” he says right away with a shrug. “Less… Hostile.” 

You get what he's trying to imply. 

“I can't really be a stuck up bitch when I'm surrounded by children, Yunho.” 

“Never said you were one.”

Your eyes squint “But you were thinking it.” 

He doesn't back down at your accusation “I swear I wasn't. You could see it, too, if you stopped being so… defensive.” 

“I'm trying,” you kind of speak over him as he is finishing his sentence, your arms crossing in, well, defense “but your fugly jeans are provoking me.” 

This time around, he's the one that doesn't bite the bait. He smiles, leaning into your space with purpose this time; not because the corner you're both hiding in is small, not because he forgets who you both are. You can see it in his eyes that he means to do it. It's scary.

It's really not scary at all and it brings thoughts to your head that you need to put away immediately. 

You pretend it's bothering you, creasing your brows in order to bring to your expression the usual disgust you feel for him. 

“You like my outfit, I saw you checking me out earlier.” He murmurs like it's the most obvious thing ever. You, on the other hand, think you did a great job in concealing your staring for the day.

“I was judging you, not checking you out. You look like a hippie.”

He smiles but doesn't lean back at all “I have something to do tonight.” 

“So I heard,” and now you look over his outfit on purpose, as well “This fit is definitely a choice.” 

The usual spark that the arguments you two are used to have is there, but the actual nastiness and loathing of it all is mostly gone. Now, there's this weird pull that nudges you forward, your jaw set softly as you wait for his response. 

“It's a rock concert, I have to look the part.” 

You laugh and then nod “And so you dressed up as a greaser. Got it.” 

“So I look like John Travolta in Grease?” 

“More like Barry Pearl.” 

He scoffs “Who even is that?” 

“Exactly.” 

Your smile is nothing but pure bliss at the way you seem to get under his skin with that one. The anger crosses his expression, his eyes widen a little before roaming your face and you wait for his comeback. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

But it never comes. Instead, he leans in a fraction more than what your sanity can handle and keeps his voice low when he changes the subject.

“I had the opportunity to speak to Jiwoo earlier…” He starts and you nod, expectant and a little distracted by the smell of his cologne. “She told me everything you've been doing for this place. I had to ask her because you didn't tell me.” 

“You didn't ask.” 

“Would you have told me if I did?” 

It takes a second and a tiny smile, but you shake your head and he clicks his tongue. 

“See?” 

“I wasn't expecting you to show up in the first place,” you murmur back in your defense, sincerely, “and I'm not used to people seeing this part of my life.” 

Laughter and hurried steps outside remind you that you're in the middle of a game, in the middle of a dare with Yunho, too. But it doesn't seem to matter anymore. 

This is a weird way of having a genuine conversation, an odd place to have it in as well but there's nothing conventional about your relationship with Yunho. 

In a way, it's kind of fitting for you two. 

“Well, you got great reviews.” 

“Do I?” 

“Mhm, Jiwoo said she was about to be sent away when you stepped in,” he starts to recall, nodding to himself “Soyi also said she met you when she was little and that you were there when Hyunjoon and his brother got here for the first time,” this time, you nod and a tiny smile tugs at your lips at the memory “And I saw the way you were looking at the kids earlier, how you spoke to them… That's why I told you that you seem different here.” 

It's your turn to gulp and blink a few times, trying to measure your words. You know that you and him came to an agreement the other night, but it's still a little hard to be fully honest with someone you've tried to be so superficial and distant for a very long time. 

“I'm happy here,” you whisper back, taking in a breath. “I'm happy when I'm helping, it makes me feel…” You trail off, failing to find the right words. 

“Purposeful?” Yunho offers and your heart beats loudly at that, your stomach sinks at how accurate that is and he can see it in your expression, because he takes in a breath himself and closes his eyes for a millisecond “I understand.” 

You want to ask him how he understands it. Is it simply because it's something easy to grasp? Is it because he relates in some way? The breach in between you became a simple line the night of the gala and that line blurs the longer you stay amicable with him. 

It's dangerous because you can already picture him going away when this whole charade ends. 

You don't want to get used to the feeling of him making your heart beat this way. 

And hopefully you can forget all about it with the usual meal related anxiety you feel but even that is dull. It's not as bad here and Yunho knows so it's not going to be as bad with him either. Fucking great. 

If you someone would just interrupt yo— 

There's a knocking, persistent and that allows you to step away from him finally and glance at the panel windows one more time. 

Soyi and Hyunjoon are lying on their stomach, smiling knowingly like they understand what is going on in your head. Yunho steps out and they pretend to be surprised but you can tell they were expecting to see him here. 

“The game finished like five minutes ago.” Hyunjoon says and it's muffled by the glass but you can make it out just fine. 

Soyi nods and joins in, adding something as she stands up “Yeah, it's lunch time and if you don't hurry I'm stealing your food!”

At that, Yunho seems to react like he's a child himself “Don't even think about it!” He yells back, heading for the door and leaving you there with an erratic heartbeat and questions. 

Thirty seconds pass before you hear him again, his laugh this time and you close your eyes because the curve of your lips needs to go away before you step out there as well. 

Three more hours pass and at some point you don't see Yunho at all, letting him do his thing. 

Turns out, he's actually very good with kids. Considering he was a weird kid himself, you don't even find it weird that he's sitting on the grass with a worm in his hand and kids circling him like he's giving a masterclass. 

Kind of like they were circling you fifteen minutes ago, when you gave them a little painting advice. You started on a small canvas and your paint strokes look tired, probably because you feel that way, but you use it to pass the time even if their interest is now elsewhere. 

They have art classes here, you insisted on including them in their pensum as something mandatory, like science and maths. 

They enjoy it. A few of them want to pursue art in the future and that makes you really happy, even if you probably won't be around to see it or if they change their opinions along the way because, as dumb as it sounds, you were never encouraged by anyone to pursue what you liked. 

Maybe, sometimes that's enough. Planting the seed to wait and see if it grows into something fructiferous in the future can be what some of these kids need. 

Aside from resources and opportunities, of course. 

There's less activity in the room you're in and you're sure it's because the kids are tired. They're taking naps in their rooms, they're washing up for the night and you're dreading leaving this place. Your shirt it's dirty, there's paint on your arms and dirt under your nails and you don't want to catch the disgusted look your mother is going to give you when you get home. 

You fuck up the painting a little bit. Lost in thought, you barely notice when Yunho makes his way inside from the garden, a little girl secured around his neck like he's her father or something. You barely spare him a glance, but smile at her when he sits down besides you and she opens her arms and clings to you instead. 

Leaving the brush and canvas forgotten on the table, you make space for the seven year old in your lap “Hi, gorgeous.” you smile at her and her sleepy eyes “Did you have fun today, Jaemi?” And at her name, she punches you softly in the arm with her little fist. 

You're afraid she's too tired to commit to the bit. 

“Jaemi,” Yunho nods beside you and you look at him, “she didn't want to tell me her name.” 

“Then that's totally not her name,” you correct yourself and Jaemi smiles, sticking her tongue out to Yunho afterwards “Did you have fun?” You insist. 

“Yes, he was teaching us something about…” she pouts in concentration, trying to remember “Crickets?” she offers with her little lisp, turning to Yunho to confirm her words. 

“Cicadas.” 

“Yeah, that.” She turns to you, nodding “He said that they sing when it's about to rain and that made me happy but then he said that they also sing when they're about to die and that made me sad.” 

Looking at Yunho, you let him know with your expression that that's not something kids need to know. He just shrugs, smile growing when he sees how Jaemi hides on your neck, sleepy and comfortable. 

“And I told him what you told me about the worms,” she murmurs there and you pat her back, softly, but trying to tell her to stop talking. There's an embarrassed glow on your cheeks at what she says next “and he told me that he was the one who taught you that.” 

Eyes wide, you huff out a laugh and then clear your throat, but Jaemi speaks through her pout before you defend yourself “Is he your boyfriend?” 

“Oh,” her question is not weird but you've been avoiding answering it all day. Right now, there's not really a way you can evade it, so you just focus on your painting and nod “He is.” 

“He's smart,” she mumbles and when your eyes land on Yunho again, his cheek is pressed to his forearm that is pressed against the table. He's looking at you both with stars in his eyes and you want to kick him under the table “Like you. I want my future mom and dad to be like you.” 

Yunho pouts and you gulp, defensiveness abandoning your body and emotions swirling inside at the sweet, hopeful color of Jaemi’s voice. 

“People here are going to make sure of that, Jaemi,” you assure her in a whisper and by the time you rock her softly in your arms, you can tell she's asleep in them “I'll make sure you get the best mom and dad in the world, hm?” 

You don't know if you can keep your promise. If there's enough will for you to do it, if it's up to you to decide it. But you don't get to dwell on it for long. 

“Is she out?” Jiwoo asks and you nod, sliding back with your chair a little so that she can take Jaemi in her arms instead “I'll get her to the nap room. Sorry about that.” 

“It's okay.” You smile at her and she puts a comforting hand on your arm, shaking you a little on your seat before heading for the nap room. 

You don't dare to look at Yunho after that. Yeah, he saw your mother belittling you and, yeah, he made you food and wiped away your tears after having a panic attack… But that might've been the most vulnerable Yunho has ever seen you. Maybe. It felt like it, anyway. 

Returning to your painting, you forget what the orange blob in the corner of the canvas is supposed to be. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yunho staring at you still, unmoving from his position against the table. 

“How dare you steal my earth friends facts, Kim Y/N.” 

“You mean the facts about worms everyone learns in kindergarten, Yunho?” You scoff “Didn't know you trademarked them.” 

“You enjoy painting.” He says, a fact not a question, ignoring your jab at him and it's starting to get a little annoying how he changes topics so fast. 

“I'm not very good at it.” 

He gets up, scoots his chair closer to yours and you catch as his eyes move up and down your stupid painting “I don't agree.” 

“I didn't ask,” huffing, you squint your eyes at him and at your tone he rolls his eyes “Don't you have a concert to get to?” 

“Yeah, you should go with me.” 

That's hilarious. 

“I'm afraid I'm a little underdressed,” you tell him and you think he wants to laugh,  but presses his lips together and pretends to be offended at your words instead. You lean into the table, your eyes following his mouth as he stops pursing his lips, a tiny smile tugging on yours. “And I don't feel like pretending to be your girlfriend today anymore.” You whisper to only him. 

“You won't have to,” he whispers back, leaning in as well, “they know.” 

“What? You told them?” 

“They kind of figured it out.” 

“Hm, because you have no bitc—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts you, annoyed and you laugh, leaning back in your chair “Come with me. I saw your car outside,” he smiles and bats his eyelashes at you “I don't want my mother to know where I'm going, so you can drive me.” 

“Ah, that's why you want me to go.” 

“I also want to hang out with you,” his hand on your arm doesn't startle you but it does send sparks down your spine, his words causing your chest to go warm and your walls to go down “I thought we were doing that today and then I got kidnapped by eight year olds.” 

There's this image of Yunho that flashes through your head, the one of him running around the yard with people so dear to your heart that it makes the poor organ beat erratically for the second time today. 

Deflect. 

“And you managed to keep your ugly outfit clean. I'm impressed.” 

He lets out a tired breath. 

Deflect. Ignore. Don't let it fool you, Y/N, he's not staying this cordial forever. 

However, you think that as a thank you you can give in a little. Just a tiny bit. Just for tonight. 

“Do they have parking?” 

Yunho smiles wide. 

You would never admit you actually want to hang out with him, too, so instead you just say: 

“I'm driving you and then I'm staying for an hour,” he claps and gets up suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your chair as well “And if I don't like it there, I'm leaving.” 

He looks like he wants to say something but, instead, he just shakes your twined hands with excitement before letting go at the realization of what he's doing. 

“You might want to go to the bathroom first.” 

“Why? Where is the concert?” 

He says nothing. 

“Jeong Yunho… Where are we going?” 

They do not have parking. Not near the musty bar you're currently trying to make your way into, anyway. 

Yunho shows something on his phone to the bouncer at the entrance and then turns to you “My girlfriend,” he says, grabbing your hand again and opening his eyes at you as a signal to go along with his lie “She's also invited, obviously.” 

So long for not pretending to be together, huh?

You nod and you kind wish you didn't because it leads you to a small space with a crowd that's bigger than what it can host. There's heavy drums and amazing vocals coming out of the speakers and you actually recognize the guitarist of the band that's playing. You don't know his name, but you definitely saw him in pictures with Yunho before. 

Grabbing Yunho’s arm when he lets go of your hand, it grants you the brief grace of his stare. 

“I'm sorry about that,” he says and then his eyes are on the stage again, smiling at the band. His height works wonders because you can tell he's actually able to see them fully and the next second you're being pulled across the crowd and up some stairs “They didn't expect me to come here with anyone tonight… And don't say it's because I have no game, Y/N, or I swear—”

“You made it!” 

When you let go of Yunho’s arm and stand shyly behind him as they let the both of you into the very humble vip area of this bar, it's like the pictures you've been staring at for months come to life. You don't know names (only Park Seonghwa’s, who's glued to the balcony’s rail, jamming along to the music) but you do know their faces. 

This girl that greeted Yunho with a hug just now it's in almost every picture, smiling just like that. And when she turns at you, that smile disappears and it's replaced with one that's not genuine at all. 

Great. 

“Oh, hi to you too,” she says and her eyes alternate between you and Yunho “I didn't know you were bringing your fake girlfriend tonight.” 

You don't know why, but the way she says it ticks you a little bit. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Yunho’s arm is around your shoulders now and you have to fight the urge to shove him away, like a second instinct “This is Y/N, Y/N this is Gyuri.” 

“It's nice to meet you,” returning her energy, you smile coldly at her too, “I've heard nothing about you.” 

Yunho's hip connects with yours in a silent warning. 

But instead of the usual hypocrisy you're met inside the crowd you move in, you're greeted with something genuine: At your response, Gyuri looks you up and down for what feels like a minute and a half and then that fake smile turns into a genuine one. 

“Okay, I get you,” she nods, laughing to herself when she turns to Yunho. You do too and the color has been drained from his face, at least a little bit “I'm glad you're here. I guess it is meet my girlfriend night,” her head cocks to the side, to where Seonghwa stands and you're a little relieved you don't have to ask what she's talking about when, besides him, you see the mechanic you didn't get to meet earlier this week. She turns to you again “Do you want a drink?” 

“Oh, I'm driving, um…” You look at Yunho “I don't know if you—” 

“No, let's not drink tonight, though if you want to we can call—” 

“No, that's not necessary, I don't feel like—” He interrupts with a nod. 

“Gotcha.” 

The nervousness is palpable and, although you didn't really feel anything the hour and a half it took you two to get to the bar (Yunho didn't really let you, bickering with you about your driving or the decor of the car or the tinted windows or whatever he could think of to annoy you), but now you you notice it. 

The way Yunho's fingers tap on your arm, his around your shoulders still. The way he doesn't really know what to say when you both turn to Gyuri after speaking over each other like that and the way you can't bring yourself to be hostile to him in front of his friends. 

It's a little pathetic. You think Gyuri thinks so too, and the long-haired guy next to her as well because they're staring at you stoically, unmoving. 

“So I'm taking that as a no but I need a drink now. If y'all excuse me…” 

“H-hi, Woo.” 

“I thought we got rid of this when San and Babe got together,” he sighs as Gyuri turns around and leaves for a table, offering you his hand with a wink. You can tell he's a little drunk but the way he shakes your hand brings out a genuine giggle out of you “I’m Wooyoung, Yunho’s best friend. I bet he already told you that, though.” 

No, you want to tell him, you and him haven't been able to talk like that yet. Even after knowing him for over ten years and spending holidays together, you don't know his best friend's name at all. 

And you start to nod just to skip explaining that but Yunho speaks and ruins your plans.

“Mingi is going to kill you if he hears you say that.” 

“Say what?” A tall man stands next to Yunho and only when he hugs his shoulders is that Yunho lets go of you “Are you talking shit about me, Woo?” 

Wooyoung genuinely sulks“I wouldn't dare, Mingi.” 

“You must be Y/N,” Mingi ignores him and you want to laugh at the expression he makes in return, but you busy yourself taking the hand that Mingi's offering “I've heard so much about you in the last forty eight hours.” 

“All terrible things, I'm hoping.” 

“Well—” 

“Okay, okay,” Yunho pushes him away and takes your arm again, giving his actual best friend a look “Let me introduce you to everyone else before Wooyoung makes a scene for the night.” 

Over your laugh, you hear a faint gasp and a I don't ever make scenes! shouted on Wooyoung’s side of the room. 

You were never shy but you fall a little quiet in the middle of these strangers because the one thing you realized right away is that there's no actual need to pretend here, in the dim light and with people who don't give a fuck if your posture isn't perfect or that you're not making small talk. 

It's a little freeing. 

That weight falls off your shoulders and you kind of get why Yunho is a little clueless about how things work in your world after talking to San and Mingi’s girlfriends for a little. 

It truly takes everything in you to keep everything you share about yourself in shallow waters. 

You tell them things they might've already known, things that can be found online about you. You tell them that you met Yunho when you were little, you tell them about your job when the girl that Park Seognhwa chose above going to the gala with you joins and then you direct the conversation to her instead of you. 

They tell you about Yunho’s college life, the parties and the embarrassing moments that you've missed all while he talks with his friends about something, all against the vip balcony railing while they watch the band perform. Gyuri is there too, arm to arm with Wooyoung and they tell you they used to be together. 

It shows, especially when you get up to join Yunho and watch the performance and she snuggles a bit closer to Wooyoung to make space for you. 

Even if there's plenty of space already. 

He looks at you when you bump into him, smiling and leaning into your space a bit to talk over the music “There you are. I thought I lost you to girl talk!” 

You roll your eyes.

“Your friend's are nice.” 

“Normal people usually are, Y/N.” 

Scoffing, you focus on the main vocal of the band. The only girl up on the stage, too and you convince yourself that's more interesting than the way Yunho seems to sparkle when he's with his people “Well, that explains why you're everything but nice.” 

He laughs “I am nice, just not to you.” 

“No, yeah, trust me, I know.” 

“You seem quiet around them,” he turns to look at the girls for a brief moment “And you're usually, obnoxiously loud. Everything alright?” 

You know he's asking about your panic attacks. Yes, you feel fine. You took your pills with your lunch and, considering the small space you're at gives you brief anxiety, mixed with the general nervousness of being with people you don't know, it could be worse. 

But, like you said, his friends are nice. 

You don't exactly fit in this group, but they make you believe you're a part of them at least for a little while and you know your friends, or the people you usually hang out with when you go out, wouldn't give a stranger the chance if presented with it. 

“I'm fine, I'm just… Intimidated.” 

“You just said they are nice, Y/N.” 

“And they're all very good looking, which is unfair and nerve wracking,” you add with a scoff and hear him giggle before you turn to him again. “You said you wanted to hang out with me but it's been forty minutes and you barely said anything,” you give him a look, “so you just wanted the ride, hm? Asshole.” 

“Needy,” he returns, pushing you with his arm, “I also wanted you to meet them. They're a huge part of who I am and I know it’s not this way for everybody, but I do believe you can gather who someone is if you meet the people they surround themselves with.” 

What does that say about me, is what you want to tell him and then his words from a second ago cross your mind. 

It's not this way for everybody. 

He knows and there's something so deeply fucked up about his understanding of you because is not supposed to be this way. You hate Yunho, he hates you and keeping each other at arm's length has always been the norm. 

It baffles you how quickly he can leave his preconceptions of you behind and open the door to his comfy bubble, invite you in and make you feel welcomed where you otherwise don't belong. 

He understands. It makes you smile and he smiles back, close to you both physically and emotionally, and so you're sure you don't need to add anything to this moment you two are having. 

Instead, you shake your head “I don't know why they hang out with you, then,” you turn to the stage one more time and there’s some tension between the band all of the sudden. You don't ask, Yunho is not paying attention to them right now anyway “I still think you wanted the free ride. Send me the gas money when you get home.” 

“When you take me home.” 

“No, you're walking back,” your fingers take a hold of his forearm, pinching it and gaining an exaggerated reaction to the mild pain it causes back from him “asshole.” 

“And get him again for me!” Wooyoung shouts to your left and you both turn to see almost everyone staring at you. 

It's almost enough to make your cheeks burn. Almost. 

When it's almost time for you to go home (the hour you said you were staying turned to two hours) and the band gets down the stage, Seonghwa sits beside you. 

“Did you paint over it?” Is the first thing you ask him and he frowns before understanding. 

“The tree in your brother's office? Nah. He said we should keep it.” 

Your brother has no taste. 

“It's a horrendous tree, Mr Park,” you insist, shaking your head when he makes a noise to disagree. “Please be sure to take it down at some point, behind his back if it's necessary.” 

“Miss Kim,” he starts and you realize whatever he's about to say, it's not about that goddamned tree, “when you asked me to go to a party with you, was it the gala you and Yunho went to?” 

He's direct and blunt and you are grateful that he addresses the topic straight ahead instead of walking around it like the girls did. 

You nod “Yes, I wanted to say I had someone to go with so they wouldn't force Yunho and I to…” 

“I understand.” 

“I'm glad you said no, though. She likes you a lot,” you point to his date, she's jamming along to a rock song you don't recognize in the slightest with Hongjoong, who just joined the group in the vip area with the rest of the band. The vocalist it's missing, however and you wonder where she went, “And you like her too, so that's good. I'm glad.” 

“And you don't like Yunho?” 

The chuckle that bubbles out of you comes out a little more nervous than what you intended “He's, um… An old friend.” 

“He told us you were trying to be friends,” he says and you blink, wondering what else Yunho told them, “but that's not what I'm asking.” 

“I know what you're asking, I know what some of you think it's going to happen,” your eyes land on Yunho, his arm around Hongjoong and they're both laughing at something Mingi said. There's that pull again, your chest feels heavy with something you've never felt before “but it is not going to happen.” 

Yunho catches your eye and smiles, says something to his friends and then starts making his way up to you two. 

Seonghwa, instead of getting offended at your very direct refusal of his intentions, just laughs at you “Famous last words, Miss Kim.” 

“Paint over the stupid tree and I might reconsider your point, Mr Park.” 

He opens his mouth to say something else but then Yunho interrupts, a hand on your shoulder. 

He's so touchy. You never actually took into account if he enjoys physical touch or not, but his hands are always on someone.  On you, when you're close to him. 

“We're leaving.” He says and he's talking to Seonghwa, not you. 

“We all are?” 

“Nope, just us. Princess has a curfew.” 

“Aw,” you place your hand on top of his, pretending to be moved, “yes you do!” 

Harshly but also half-joking (you think) he moves his hand away and turns around “I'll be waiting for you downstairs, you witch.” 

You watch him say his goodbyes and flash you his middle finger before, effectively, going down the stairs. Laughing as you stand up, you return your eyes to Seonghwa “Stop it.” 

“I'm just saying—” 

“Shut up.” 

Seonghwa laughs again and you say goodbye to everyone, Mingi giving you a look that reads as be careful with him and you want to clarify that nothing is ever going to happen. 

But some of them think otherwise. 

When you get downstairs, the crowd overwhelms you all over again and, just when you think Yunho might've actually left you, there's a hand that closes over yours. 

The hand spins you around and Yunho comes into view with his lips curled upwards into a teasing smirk “This way, princess.” 

Suspicious (about the fact that he's navigating the crowd towards anything but the exit, not about his flirtatious ways), you tug at him to make him stop “What are you up to?” 

He ignores your question, moving fast and through a deserted hallway where music doesn’t really get through and, after that, he opens a door that leads to the back of the musty bar. 

“Are you bringing me here so I can get robbed, Yunho?” 

He huffs out a laugh, kind of offended but not really “Obviously, Y/N. It wasn’t because someone was taking pictures of us all night at all.” 

His hand is on yours still as he drags you to the streets and to where you think your car is. You’re grateful he’s holding you, your heart dropping at his words. Not because people can’t know you came to this bar, or that you’re with Yunho, but because someone recognized you and you didn’t notice.

You always notice.  

But this time, you felt so comfortable inside a bubble that isn’t yours that you allowed someone to disrespect you like this. 

Worst, disrespect someone else who’s supposed to be with you like this. 

“Are you sure it was us and the person wasn’t taking pictures of Hongjoong? He’s kind of the buzz around here, Jeong.” You try to joke to calm the beating of your heart down, swallowing hard as you get to your car. 

Your hand shakes a little as you press the buttons to unlock the doors and, by the time you get into the car you’re sweating. You feel the moisture on the back of your neck like a warning, it tells you that you need to calm down before actually getting on the street but Yunho’s words don’t help at all. 

“That's what I thought but then I realized the phone was following you.” 

“Great,” you gulp again, starting the car and turning on the ac just to have something to distract you and your hands. "You didn't have to leave with me, though. You just needed to tell me and—” 

“We’re together, aren't we? At least to them, we are, so leaving together it's the least they expect us to do.” 

Expect. You hate that he's right, that he was able to think rationally and you hate that he regards the situation you're both in with a little more maturity than a few days ago. 

This turn in his personality is overwhelming to say the least. There's only so much concealing you can do before it shows that you're starting to care about him genuinely, beyond the pr and the arranged relationship.

“Thank you.” You mutter after a few seconds of silence where he checked his phone. 

He looks up from it a few seconds, smiles at you a little and then returns his attention to the screen. It takes a few seconds of the ac blasting in your face and the sound of the keyboard of his phone to return you to the ground, panic dissipating when he looks back up again. 

“Are you sure you don't want to sneak back? I don't mean to steal you from your friends, Yunho.” 

“You are my friend, princess.” Without really wanting to, your nose scrunches at the corniness of the statement and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t make that face. Look, I was searching online for the pictures or videos they might've taken at the bar and I found this.” 

He turns his phone and although your panic went away, the feeling is replaced by a little bit of anger: It's a picture of you both, Jaemi in your arms, her face covered by your hair and shoulder. Yunho is staring at you both sweetly, like you remembered he did and you are mid sentence. 

It's not the face you're making in the picture that upsets you, it's the fact that someone took that moment and posted it online for everyone to see. 

“You don't like it.” He says and you take a swing of air before replying. 

“I do like the picture, I don't like what it means,” and he's about to ask what you mean, you see it in his eyes but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don't like that they took that moment away from me, from us.” 

You don't know why you say it like that but you do, there's this emotion laced on your voice that, a week ago, you would've fought to keep away from him. He was never supposed to see any of this. In fact, no one was supposed to see any side of you that wasn't perfectly crafted to their liking, to your mother's liking. 

Yunho getting to know you like this wasn't part of your plan. So you ignore the sting on your chest at his pained expression caused by what you say next. 

“From now on, let's not allow them to take moments away from us. Let's meet when we're scheduled to, during the week and not on weekends and—” 

“Let's go.” 

“Yeah, I'll take you home and then maybe we can tell our moth—” 

“No, no. Just… Let's go here,” he tips and taps at the screen of your car, placing an address inside the gps you're unfamiliar with, “and then we can go home.” 

Confused and in a surprising complaint mood, you start to back out of the parking spot. At the questions written all over your face, he simply places a hand on your knee and squeezes there. It does nothing to calm you down but it does distract you for a second. 

Which is bad. Cause you're driving and all, so you bat his hand away with yours and he laughs at the dead look you send his way. 

“Where are we going?” 

“I want to show you something.” 

“Jeong Yunho, are you sneaking me into your dorm room?” 

“Shhhh.” 

A finger on your lips is the only thing you get as a response before he pokes his head out, into the badly lit hallway of what you can only presume is his dorm room. 

His digit is replaced by your hand because you're trying very hard no to burst out laughing at his very specific change of placement. He sprints to the wall in front of you and moves his hand, urging you to follow his footsteps. 

You do, only much slower than what he intended, you guess, because as soon as you're on his reach he grabs your arm and collides his body with yours. His lips near your cheek when he looks down, his words a whisper. 

“The cameras are old and they don't catch fast movements that well, so we have to run.” 

It takes five good seconds to try and contain your laugh again before replying: “Okay… Mister Bond.” 

His face falls. “Y/N, I can get in serious trouble for bringing you here.” He deadpans and you nod, fast and unserious. 

“Yeah, no, I can totally see that.” 

“I hate you.” 

You smile all the way up to his room, his anxious behavior a little strange because, well, you see a girl casually exiting a room on the base floor as you go upstairs. She's flushed and giggling as she types on her phone, so you don't understand what big deal is. 

Especially when Yunho all but shoves you into a room you can only assume is his, your kitty heels almost making you trip with the shoe rack by the entrance. 

“You're the most dramatic person I have ever met, Jeong.” 

“Hall monitors are a thing here, Y/N and I don't want to get banned from the team!” 

“What team?” 

Now that you think about it, this does seem like one of the dorms reserved for sports teams in the school you graduated from. This one is smaller, definitely not as luxurious and allegedly has a faulty security system but that's besides the point: there's banners and posters on the walls all the way from the entrance to this room that kind of smells like soju and beer. 

“The dance team!” He says as you step further into the room. 

“I didn't know you dance.” 

There's enough space for two beds, two desks that are pressed together on one corner of the room, in front of one of the beds, giving the illusion of being one cohesive piece of furniture when it's not. In front of the other bed there's a corner mirror and a bedside table with old energy drink cans and one unopened, undrinked water bottle. 

“I didn't know you painted until recently.” 

“I don't,” you argue, throwing your purse on one of the beds before Yunho takes it and places it into the other one. You assume that's his. "You are allowed to have a dorm here for shaking your little ass on stage a few times, Jeong?” 

Your teasing makes him frown but you can only smile at the reaction, arms crossed as you take one more look around the room. 

“I do more than shaking my great ass on stage, princess. Besides, this makes me somewhat very independent from my parents,” he shrugs “And I'm close to the campus. It's a win, win situation for me.”

“Yeah, I'll give you that.” And it's true: you can't really argue against being away from your parents. He's lucky he's able to do it, least to some degree. “You still have to go to your house on weekends, no?” 

“Yeah,” he sighs and when you return your eyes to him, he's making his bed. He looks a little ashamed of the state he left the room in when he catches you staring. “But I think I can allow myself to stay here on weekends now, too, considering they forced me into our little… Arrangement.” 

“Yeah, because your mother is all but allowing you to do things this week. Really, Yunho, don't test the woman’s patience.” 

He frowns at you “What side are you on?” 

“The side where we get scolded the least until this whole thing is over, Yunho!” 

“Look, I understand that you care deeply for your parents approval and we've gone through this already this week but—” 

“But what?” 

You hope the look you send him makes him choose his words very carefully. You don't think it gets the message across when he takes a breath and shrugs. 

“But at some point you're going to have to let go of that, Y/N, you're clearly not happy.” 

“Stop caring so much about my happiness, Yunho.” 

“We're friends, that's what a friend is supposed to—” 

“Oh, stop that.” 

He looks taken aback by your interruption and your tone, but the whole leaving the bar because someone was taking pictures of you knocked some sense of reality into you and now you're upset. 

You don't want to scream, you don't want to fight with him because today has been so good. Good to you, good to him, good to people who are dear to you and to him, but it's so hard. 

It's hard when he understands some of it but not the full picture and it's hard when your walls are down, your feelings are on your sleeve and your words spill out of your mouth without a second thought. 

“We're not friends, Yunho. We've never been friends, we were not brought together to be just friends and you may think otherwise because you have the opportunity to live like this,” you point to his bed, “and go to bars and concerts and make noise within the crowds because you're tall and attractive, not because of your last name but I am never going to have that.” 

Feet moving to their own accord, you cross the space as you speak, until you have to look up at him and that pained expression you saw before heading towards his dorm is back, that pained expression he gave you back at the gala when he found you in that room, that pained expression he had when he fought with his mom in front of you. 

You hate it. Not because he might be in some sort of pain, but because it makes you feel bad that you are the one that's causing it. 

“I am never going to have this, Yunho. So yeah, I'm unhappy and bitter and sad and I've developed a whole panic disorder because of it but that's just what—” 

“God, you're impossible.” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“‘That's just what it's meant to happen’. Is that what you were going to say? ‘That's just the way things are’,” he mocks and that hurts you but he doesn't back down even at the way you physically recoil at his words. 

He moves to the floor, knees hitting hard as he drops and looks for something under his bed. 

You don't need to be here. But before you announce that you're leaving, he does something that ignites your curiosity: he pulls out a box. 

A box with the name of the highschool you attended together in it. You have that box, or at least you think you do, somewhere in the storage of your house where no one can find it because, like almost everything in your life, there's no happy memories in it.

You're not sure if there's happy memories for Yunho, but the way he harshly opens it and rumages inside to find something specific tells you otherwise. 

“The other day, after seeing the canvases in your room, I tried to remember if you liked painting,” he starts and gets up, a mid-sized blue photo album on his hand with the name of the school and your classes slogan engraved in gold on the side, “I tried to remember things I'm supposed to know about you, because we grew up together, Y/N.” 

His reminder makes you gulp. 

“I've tried to distance myself from you as much as I can because I never thought that we would need to get along and— No, no, I never thought I would want to get along with you but now I do and so I went home and I stole this from my mother's office.” 

He opens the album and, at first, you only see pictures of him. Him at his graduation day, him at that one soccer event where he almost broke his nose, him at the school yard with guys from your class you barely remember and then he gets to a specific part of the album. Instead of a picture, there's a card with beautiful handwriting that reads your name instead. 

“See, I always hated that my mother seemed to adore you. She doesn't have any daughters, so I thought it was a way of living that through you and that your mother was a little weird for allowing it to happen, but I was wrong,” he hands you the album and you scowl a little at the pictures you see of yourself, pictures that you've never seen before tonight, “And so, when she asked me to take pictures of you at school events she couldn't attend or your parents couldn't attend, I did it because of that. But I realized recently that she never wanted this for herself.” 

There's a picture of you at a piano recital where you came in third because you sucked at it. There's a picture of you on stage, on school assembly day, accepting a medal for your academic excellency. There's a picture of you next to the school’s art gallery, where you were able to display the canvases you painted throughout your senior year, at your teacher’s insistent request. There's a picture of you in the art gallery, someone you don't recognize or don't really remember is talking to you, their hands pointing at an abstract piece you did. 

It's the only picture where you're genuinely smiling. 

You trace the picture caged with the protective film of the album with the pad of your finger, softly, over that smile and wait for it to disappear but it doesn't. 

You look at Yunho, eyes almost teary with confusion and sentiment. 

“She never wanted this for herself because, although she loves you, she doesn't care about any of this when you're already the perfect match for me in her eyes” he smiles a little, his finger joining yours on the page. “She doesn't care if you got third or first place here, she doesn't give a fuck about your academic achievements and she definitely doesn't give a shit if you're an artist or not,” his finger connects with yours, over your immortalized smile on the picture “but I do.” 

Your head starts to shake, your mind starts to reject his words right away. He cares? About you? No, no. It can be, he— 

He's nodding, stepping close and letting his eyes move away from you just a millisecond so he can stare at the picture “If it makes you this happy, I do. And I did, I don't… I don't remember exactly everything I thought about you as I took these pictures, Y/N, I was probably very annoyed,” he laughs a little and you do too, softly, barely, “but I probably cared back then too, I just… Well, what I'm trying to say is that you can be happy, you can have this and—” 

You don't know what does it. Is it his speech? This whole I was supposed to hate you but I don't think I ever did feeling that washes over you, like some sort of light in the midst of a very long period of darkness? Is it the lingering curve of his lips as he looks at your face in that picture and then back at you with stars in his eyes? Is it the way his finger brushes against yours shyly, like he intended to do it but he's not so sure how you would react to it? 

Is it the way he looked at you this afternoon, while Jaemi was speaking nonsense into your hair? Is it the fact that, at some point during the drive, you looked over and saw him smiling at his phone, at the picture that stole your moment with him this afternoon? 

What exactly prompts you to shut the photo album, let it fall to the floor and close the distance between your lips is beyond you but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't really matter. 

Kissing Yunho feels like defiance, like rebellion against yourself and your principles and your values. It makes your heartbeat happily against your ribcage and that's, maybe, what makes you pull away from the close-lipped encounter. 

He just told you that you can be happy, but your mind can't just accept it so easily. 

Also, he didn't exactly kiss you back. 

His lips are parted when you look at him again, his pupils going all over your face like trying to get ahold of what the fuck just happened. 

This is so embarrassing. 

“I shouldn't have done that,” you start, in a whisper, tiptoes going down until you're back from the clouds on the ground. “I'm so, so sorry. I'll leav—” 

Briefly, you wonder what makes Yunho grab the side of your face and kiss you back, this time with a foreign emotion pouring into the kiss that you, somehow, feel equipped to return as your lips move in tandem with his. 

You wonder if what makes his free hand move to your waist and press you flush against him is, in any way, motivated by some sort of pity. 

His tongue brushing softly against yours for the first time makes your insecurity go away. It makes everything else go away, including that alarm inside of your head that tells you that you're making a mistake. 

It’s blasting red, dangerous and irrevocable red, but you think you confuse the color of it with the blush on Yunho’s cheek when you push a little onto him and he falls to the bed. You confuse the sound with the sigh that he lets out when he pulls you to him and your first instinct is to sit on his lap, leg on each side of him, hand fisting his shirt as you capture his lips again. 

His warmth engulfs you when his arms go around you, press you into him again and settle you further into his lap so you’re not awkwardly hovering over it anymore. There’s this need that takes over you, struggling to come up to the surface. You think he feels it too and, when your hips move out of pure want, he opens his legs a little more. 

Adrenaline rushing through you, making you confuse the sensation for pure euphoria, it takes two more thrusts into the material of his jeans for you to come to your senses. 

What the hell are you doing? 

Your heart races, for a different reason now. 

What the hell do you think you’re doing? 

Panic rising, you push Yunho’s shoulder with your hands, pulling you both away from the kiss completely. He has a pout on his lips, swollen from your kisses and flushed pink. They look very inviting, and although there’s a part of you that wants to give in, there’s the other side of you, the louder side, that’s telling you to think clearly. 

Giving into Yunho, is giving into your mother’s wishes fully. Giving into Yunho means she won. 

And Yunho thinks you are able to be happy one day, the words you cut off still ringing in your mind and they cover your fears with hope you never felt before, hope that you didn’t think you deserved to feel in the first place. His kisses had that taste, too. 

But you don’t think you can let your mother win.  

“Dinner.” You manage to say, untangling his hands off your waist, using them to help you up and off his lap.  

“W-what?” 

“It’s almost nine, I have to go to dinner with my brother.” You fix your shirt, tuck your hair behind your ear and bend over him to grab your purse before clearing your throat, “I know the way out.” 

“Y/N, don’t—” 

“I’ll see you next thursday.” 

When you sprint out of the room and close the door behind you, you already want to go back in. 

But running is sensible, it’s what you’re supposed to do. 

It doesn’t matter that hot, angry tears are wetting your cheeks. 

It’s what’s best for everyone, including him.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[serensama]

Thursday Bangers: Dr, Who?

I love you @woundedsoul12 for this amazing game you've created <3 Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

Read on Ao3

Baby I'm so into you Darling, if you only knew All the things that flow through my mind - Fantasy Mariah Carey

---

Neve was a patient woman; she would wait until Lilya was ready to talk before saying anything. She had to be willing to wait in her profession; not all cases were open and shut within a day. Unfortunately, some cases took months to crack. This latest stuff with Aelia and Dock Town… urgh… No. She was not going to think about that witch any more than she had to. The detective wrapped her arms around Lilya, who was lightly shivering in the evening air, the autumn chill biting through her even with the tequila swimming through her veins, the two women huddling together for warmth, reminding Neve of their late nights trawling through different clubs in their youth and never remembering to wear jackets. Apparently, neither had grown wiser as they grew older. 

Lilya pressed her cheek against Neve’s as she tightened her hold around her waist, desperate to siphon every bit of her friend’s body heat for herself, ignoring the way the taller woman laughed at her. “I can’t believe I did that, that was just so humiliating.”  Neve squeezed Lilya in return and comfortingly rubbed her back. “Oh, don’t worry, no one else noticed. Everyone’s too wrapped up in their own stuff to worry about anyone else.”  “But I know what I did, I’ll remember it,” she whined, burying her face in her friend’s collar. “Impulse control- gone. Reasoning- non-existent. Judgment- fucked from here to kingdom come. You should just put me in solitary for the next year and let me think about what I’ve done for a good long time, to make sure I don’t go terrorising random innocent people at night and try to mount them.”

Neve snorted and pushed away from Lilya, the latter moaning the loss of warmth instantly. “People, you say. Well, those particular people, you somehow managed to entangle yourself with, in the blink of an eye, looked mighty similar there, Lil. Seems you got yourself a type.” 

Lilya was half-tempted to stomp her foot like a petulant child, but she wasn’t quite that drunk yet. Sometimes she really hated Neve’s perspicacity and frankness; between her and Teia, she never had any peace. As good a reason as any to never let them hang out together. 

“Is this because of that night you spent with that guy a while back? I remember you telling me he was all god-like bone structure, a smile that made you feel like he was already inside of you and so beautiful it made you want to cry whenever you thought about him,” she ribbed, lighting a cigarette and checking her phone to see how long their Uber would be. Her eyes flicked back up to Lilya, who had turned a vivid shade of pink as she recalled their conversation one week after their encounter. 

“I told you that in confidence, whilst I was not exactly sober for your compassion, not for you to use as ammunition to call me out for fun at your leisure!” 

“…Do you even realise who you’re talking to here, Lil?” 

“I need new friends.” 

“You need to get over this little infatuation of yours.” 

“I was trying to, then you pulled the first guy away-”

“ He was my CI! A literal criminal, Lil!” 

“He was quite gentlemanly for a criminal.” 

“He’s a professional con-man.” 

“Who can kiss.” 

“The second one looked like he could, too-”

“He can.” 

Neve paused. She was certain that she had stopped her from kissing that other handsome stranger. How could she possibly know… “Shit. Lilya… that second guy. That’s the guy, isn’t it? The one you’ve been trying to get over.” Her silence was all the answer she needed; the detective cackled at her friend’s obvious discomfort. “Oh, this is too good. Better than any trashy stories from back home, I am positively living . Please continue, give Aunty Neve all the sordid details of how he found you here and what you would have done if I hadn’t interrupted you. Leave nothing out. We have another 5 minutes before our ride is here.” 

Lilya glowered at her, tempted to beat Neve to death with her own prosthetic- just to buy enough time to avoid revealing all the gritty particulars she’d been longing to share. Nonetheless, she knew she’d be dreaming of their almost-kiss for days to come. Her skin burned with the memory of his lips under her fingertips, along her ear, and the strength in his hands as he held her body to his. Her heart was already fluttering at the most basic of recollections. If she even dared to tell Neve the things she thought about him, what she wanted to do to him and with him? She’d probably come on the spot and then die from embarrassment. And if she didn’t, Neve would make sure to put her in the coffin herself with her never-ending, sarcastic quips.  She had finally managed to string the words together to tell her to shut up and mind her own damn business when the very hands she’d been fantasising about brushed her shoulders and slid down her arms. Lilya’s eyes snapped to Neve to check if it was all in her head- but judging by her bugged-out stare, it wasn’t just some intense daydream.

“This won’t do,” he tutted against her temple, his fingers caressing the smooth skin along her biceps as he huffed out his approval. “You’re so cold, Doc. We can’t have that.” He trailed his fingertips down her arms, thrilled by the gooseflesh that rose at her nape. It took everything in him not to run his lips over it and up her neck, to make the rest of her body tingle with his kisses- but her friend looked like she’d probably burn his eyes out if he tried anything more than what she already allowed with her friend.

Illario shrugged off his jacket and carefully draped it over her shoulders, his hands running down the line of her arms once more, firmer, not meant to tease, but to remind her how he had touched her when they were alone. “Here you go, Doc. You need it more than I do. I’d offer you a ride home, but I doubt you’d accept it. I do hope you have a lovely evening.” He squeezed her hands, and she almost squeezed back, her cheek pressed against the lapel of his jacket, facing him but unable to look him in the eye. Dangerous things happened when she met his gaze. 

Then, as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. He disappeared into his town car and did not even look back at her when they drove off. 

Lilya pulled the large jacket around her frame and let herself take in the fading scent of his cologne and closed her eyes as flashes of their kiss earlier that day flooded her mind, how wonderful it felt to be back in his arms with his mouth on hers- 

Neve stared at her friend, blinking blankly. She hadn’t seen her like this about a man since she had dated Ashur, the man who broke her heart to become a priest. By her glazed-over look alone, whatever the two shared was more explosive and intense than what Lilya had with the man she was convinced she’d marry. After things ended between them, the poor girl stopped dating and focused only on her career. Sure, there were casual flings, a friendly booty call whom she trusted enough to call upon whenever human contact was a necessity- but the look on her face screamed to Neve that this was not someone she was going to get over through willpower and abstinence from him alone. 

“Oh my darling, Lilya. You went and done it.” 

She looked up at Neve with confusion, her brows furrowing together as she continued to unconsciously revel in the scent of the man, her expression gradually softening the more she inhaled his scent from his collar. “Done what?” 

“Gone and fallen for him, obviously.” 

“Wha-no! I don’t even know the man, I can’t, you don’t just- I mean I certainly don’t - people don’t do this! A-Adults don’t do this!” she spluttered, growing increasingly flustered as her vehement denials piled up, her anxiety rising with a sharp sting of what she recognised as cognitive dissonance. “... Neve.” 

The detective hushed her, extinguishing her cigarette with her heel and opened up her arms again for Lilya to snuggle back into her embrace. “Don’t worry, Lil, there are worse things than being head over heels for a guy like that.”  “... There is?” she asked, her voice muffled between them.  Neve nodded and smiled softly. “Mhmm. You could like them, and they could not know you exist. Or they know you exist, but just don’t care. Thankfully for you, that man, oh Lilya, that man looks like you’re the only thing that exists. And at the very least, I know that he has excellent taste in women… And clothes, this jacket is fabulous.”

Softly tagging: @kabsey @jenn2d2 @rookamell @mythals-whore @davrinsleftpectoral @thedissonantverses @himluv @hedwigoprah and anyone else who may want to play <3

[vivicas-dollhouse]

My creepypasta sex headcannons <3

(I hc nina and ben as minors so they will not be listed, enjoy!!)

Jeff

very much a switch, but only bottoms in certain situations, aka rarely.

He enjoys the power dynamics of bdsm, the total sense of control and ownership

He LOVES gags on his partner, the feeling that they cant tell you anything (including no) drives him nuts.

He likes treating his partners like prey, making them fearful of what he will do next gets him off like nothing else can

He likes to bite, scratch, slap, cut, or do anything to degrade his partner. He IS the ultimate authority

He isnt afraid of drawing blood during sex, in fact that makes it better

He doesn't have an orientation, a hole is a hole

He doesn't do aftercare, usually he nuts, cleans himself up, and leaves. If your lucky youll get a kiss or a pet name as he says goodbye

Eyeless jack

Hes a sweetheart, but he is also part feral animal. He finds sex to be the ultimate example of trust, because once he gets going its hard for him to stop.

Having sex with him only occurs if you completely trust that he won't hurt you no matter how rough it gets. He doesn't want to hurt you at all, so he respects all boundaries.

He is very aggressive and horny, so expect multiple orgasms.

He is very good at checking in on your limits, knowing you are very breakable compared to him. He creates safe words and safe signals for you

He is VERY good with his tounge, especially since he has multiple.

He doesn't really like bondage or even bdsm because he knows he can easily put you overboard or even kill you if something goes wrong. He does like anal though. Tight….

He doesn't really pull out, but if you ask him specifically to or if you are afab he will. Hes not about to become a father.

Once hes had his way with you, he will kiss and cuddle you, bringing you anything you need before curling up in your arms or at your feet.

Ticci toby

Hes definitely a switch, but is pretty easy to make bottom. Just start degrading him and refuse to let him touch you and hes a whining begging mess

He is a whiny bitch, making way too much noise to be reasonable, but he just cant help it. He loves everything you do, worshipping the very ground you walk on

He loves some fat on his partners, he just thinks it's beautiful.

He likes being treated like subhuman, not necessarily pet play but definitely something submissive and breakable

When he does top, he likes to be ridden. Motherfucker hates topping so bad

He likes to be tied up, the loss of control feeling freeing.

He does like being choked a LOT, the blurring of his vision makes his head spin and turns him into a whimpering mess

He doesnt like being penatrated that much, but he will take it in certain senarios.

He is bisexual but has a preference for women. Pussy……

Afterwards he acts like a princess, expecting to be held and kissed. If you have needs, he will do it but he usually won't like it.

Masky

Hes not a switch, more a top with a breaking point. If you somehow force him to bottom, hes going to fight you the whole time. It might be hot for a little bit, but he will be getting back in control soon and has no problem taking it out on you.

He likes choking his partner, watching the thoughts leave their head as they slowly black out only for him to slap them awake and do it again, god it gets him off.

If he likes you however, he is gentle and loving, often checking in. Hes still going to choke and hit you, but he will take care of you.

He is known to prefer men, often ignoring women in favor of a twink.

He doesn't quite degrade you, but makes sure there is a clear power dynamic between him and his partner. He is in charge, not you.

A lot of times he is drunk during sex, as when he is sober hes more focused on staying alive and stopping his intrusive thoughts.

He doesn't need sex, its just a little treat.

After he will clean you up, get you a water, advil, food, anything you need, and cuddle you until you fall asleep, but usually is gone by morning.

Hoodie

Hes a bottom. No questions asked.

He loves getting backshots with his hands held behind his back, that is THE BEST SEX.

Otherwise he is fairly vanilla, not liking bdsm that much.

He usually just jacks off instead if seeking out a partner.

He only really has feelings for *one guy*, but that *one guy* isn't interested in what he wants.

Clockwork

Shes too traumatized to really enjoy sex, often choosing to masturbate instead of risking being taken advantage of.

She wishes she could enjoy sex, she just sees it as a punishment for feeling emotions.

Shes only ever had feelings for one person, but shes buried them deep within herself because she can't understand what a healthy relationship is.

Definitely a lesbian, no one can convince me otherwise.

[hurt-over-comfort]

Story & OC introduction!

Hello! So, after far too long of a wait, I have finished this OC introduction post! 

In the future I’ll think about how to organize this better, maybe as a google docs or maybe as a separate website, but for now this is as good as I can make it. 

It might be quite long given the sheer amount of OC’s introduced so I kept the descriptions to a minimum - I’d love to expand on that later once I decide what’s the best way to do it. Also, all asks about characters and the stories are super welcome! I love talking about my blorbos.

This post focuses on introducing one of my two main stories and their casts, but all of these characters exist through different AUs. I will share more details about the second story soon, I haven't finished writing descriptions for that one yet : (

“JOINT VENTURE” AKA COLLEGE AU

My main squeeze, the story I think about most often and what I consider the ‘baseline’ for the character’s personalities. It's definitely a whumpy story, but I doesn't focus exclusively on whump.

In short, it’s a story of the destructive relationship between two college students and how their decision to partner up and make some cash haunts them. A story about addiction, desperation, control and loss of it, of all encompassing love and betrayal. It’s doomed, it’s tragic, it’s abusive, it’s gay!!! Content warnings for the story: sadism&masochism, torture, noncon.

I’d love to elaborate, but to not make this post any longer than it needs to be, here are the featured characters!

1. ALBERT

My main guy, nr one little guy inside my head. I love my Oc’s equally, except for Albert, whom I love the most. (I also hate him the most, so it equalizes.)

Albert is a rich kid fuck boy who everyone only pretends to like. He’s a rather bright chem-engineering student who spends most of his time getting drunk, high and having lots of party sex. It seems like life handed him a golden ticket - good looks, filthy rich parents, great education - and maybe that’s why he started acting out, because it all was going too well. And now it’s harder to pretend that everything is great, which makes him try even harder, become faker.

The only person who truly sees through him is Cedric and maybe that’s why he hates him so much. Only sometimes, he doesn’t hate him - sometimes he feels a wild yearning for any shred of Cedric’s validation or affection, and he buries that feeling so deeply that he’s not aware it’s even happening. He prefers denial - denial that everything is amazing, that he didn’t fuck up his life entirely, that Cedric is no one to him. It works until it doesn’t and for these times even the usual vices don’t stop him from spiraling. He hates it, or maybe he doesn’t, it’s hard to tell - He’s so dangerously masochistic that he might just be in love with being miserable.

2. CEDRIC

(OC of the lovely @whmp)

Albert’s roommate and the absolute bane of his existence. The person who hates him the most and conversely the only one that can put up with his antics. He’s spent so much time trying and failing to get away from Albert that now he just accepts him as any other inevitability of life. Vaguely aware of Albert’s feelings toward him and even less aware of his own feelings for him. 

A major control freak about everything in his life, from academics to personal relationships. Will claim he just want to be left alone but will get lonely if that actually happens. He’s aloof and quiet with a tendency to be outright mean and sarcastic when in a bad mood, sees people mostly as noisy distractions. Annoyingly aware of his own intelligence, definitely thinks he’s better than other people. In between studying and dealing with Albert he has a little business on the side - synthesizing drugs. 

3. NICKY

Cedric’s sweet boyfriend, a chronically online liberal arts major and Albert’s number one secret hater. He’s not the smartest, but he makes it up with his enthusiasm and a general aura of positivity. Will make you a delicious meal if asked, but will also go on twitter and argue for hours about the stupidest, most inconsequential things. In between watching anime and romanticizing every aspect of his life he loves to game with Cedric’s weirdo friend, Leo. 

4. LEO

(Also OC of @whmp)

An absolute social reject shut-in loser who spends most of his days browsing very questionable websites and forums. Doesn’t mind people, but doesn’t like them either - he’s so apathetic it’s hard to make him care about anything, really. That includes being likable, so he never tries to cover up his nature (he sees any relationship as a transaction anyway). Not hard to get along with if you can stand him, but you probably shouldn’t try because he’s not a good person. Not so secretly sadistic - maybe he loves it so much because violence and abuse is one of the only things that can make him feel anything. Awkward most of the time, especially for those incredibly rare times where he feels any attachment to a person. Stay away at all cost.

5. DARCY 

A wicked demon in the vague shape of a man (metaphorically). There is little humanity left in him, or maybe there was none there to begin with. Bastard son of a prominent cartel leader with high ambitions how to run things and 0 actual leadership power. He’s the clean up guy, tasked with disappearing the people that the cartel doesn’t need anymore. And before he buries them in the desert somewhere, why shouldn’t he have some fun with them? They can have a lovely evening or two and when whatever is left of them is dropped into a shallow grave Darcy will have already moved on. 

6. CECILE 

Albert’s accomplished older sister. They talk sometimes, and she worries about him a lot, but their relationship is rather strained. Her life is a constant juggle between her demanding job and family life, and maybe if she keeps it up she’ll have no time to think about the life she could have had. About the people she had lost. 

7. WILLOW

Willow used to be a best friend of Cecile back when they were younger. They’d sneak off at night and go onto the grassy fields, setting up a picnic to enjoy it just as the sun rises. They’d talk for hours while laying on their back and staring at the sky, hands so close their fingers could touch if any of them would be a little braver. They were close and wanted to be so, so much closer, but you can’t get everything you want in life, right?

---

That's it for now! Very excited to be sharing all of this with you! The picrew used is the amazing sushicore!

Here is also a little sneak peek at some of the characters of my second story while I work on writing descriptions for them!

[cheekycherry20]

My father has never been present in my life. Between the ages of 12-20 (my processing years) I always told myself he tried. My family never liked him while my mom was alive, so when she passed they didn’t allow him custody. I would hear from him from phone calls every couple of months, about twice a year between 5-8 years old. He would make a promise, or say how much he missed us, and throw in the occasional “I miss your mom”.

I wasn’t old enough to understand that his empty promises were messing me up. The constant disappointment creating an avoidant attachment. He kept his promise ONCE, getting me and my sisters a big bag of toys, which my grandmother took from us. My family made it very obvious that they didn’t like him, so I understood why he wasn’t around. But when he would call it was like he cared. He would say how smart I am, how big I’m getting, how much he loved us. I would get more verbal praise from him in 20 minutes than my whole family would give me in a month. I thought this was love.

My teenage years, he started going to my uncle more. I’m guessing my uncle would filter out his attempts because we wouldn’t hear from him. When my older sisters graduation rolled around (I was 16) he said he was visiting. My family’s hatred for him had rubbed up on me by them, so I was slightly annoyed. I’m not sure what I was annoyed with. Was it putting a face to the man that always let me down? But he actually did it.

When my grandma called me into the living room, there he was. Along with some woman and three kids. My mom passed when I was very young, I wasn’t expecting him to just mourn her loss for the rest of his life. It was seeing his kids. Three daughters. Well fed, clean clothes, and they were all over him. He had already had three daughters, US. I remember how awkward it was. I just wanted to go in my room. I remember joking with my little sister about how he found a white women using humor to cope. I saw him again at graduation dinner, and he cracked jokes about how I had a crush on Steph curry (I don’t).

my sophomore year he would call more consistently, he even started sending money. His calls were scheduled happening about 1 a week. He would talk about coming to my graduation, getting me a car, asking us to visit him, etc. I took the money obviously but I actually started to believe he cared again.Then it stopped. He called during mySenior year once. Then he stopped. When I was 19 he started to make an effort again. His problem was he was doing it drunk, and in the middle of the night. I stopped picking up his calls. He would ask why we weren’t calling him first. The last thing I heard from him was how he was sorry about missing my graduation.

I always wondered why I have a need to be picked first in friendships. But it’s because of him. My own father didn’t think about his first borns. All the phone calls felt like a lie. He had time to raise 3 MORE daughters and chose to move on from his other 3. I truly understand his blockages. Yea my family hated him, but so what? You’re talking all this big game to young impressionable kids and you can’t even back it up. That’s not love, and thanks to you, I don’t know how to love. I always go for people who don’t like me back, I tweak out when I’m disappointed and not in control of situations, and I always need to be peoples first priority.

[talkawaythedark]

Tw for child neglect, childhood trauma, (mild) child abuse, gaslighting, divorce, domestic child labor, alcoholism, non-specific eating disorder, depression, traumatic memory loss, imposter syndrome, emotional / mental abuse / manipulation / gaslighting

I'm fourteen. My parents divorced when I was three and my little sister was one. Even before that, I'm told I used to try to step in between their arguments. I don't remember that far back. I used to spend a few days with my dad followed by a few days by my mom etc etc. My mom moved in with a guy who I instantly hated; they even got engaged. The guy had a son. My mom admits that their relationship was mostly sexual- they would stay in their room every day until like 12 pm, and we weren't allowed to bother them unless it was really important. That put me, a 4 year old, in charge of my little sister and stepbrother, 2 & 3 years old. Tbh I was a bit of a tyrant- my world was unstable and my only safe way of lashing out was to become a control freak over what my siblings did during the time that I was responsible for them. I was also responsible for tidying our shared room, sorting and folding our laundry, and setting the table. My mom's then-fiancee was also the first adult to ever hit me, which was quickly followed by my mom. When we moved out from there, I was six, and my mom was sick. She went through multiple operations and wasn't allowed to carry anything remotely heavy, leaving me to not only do the washing, but the cooking and the dishes and the shopping. Among the operations she went through was a hysterectomy, and the hormone crash resulted in a depression that never left. We moved through a lot of houses before she finally bought one a few years ago. All the while, I was doing way more in the household than a person my age should've, and practically (co-)parenting my little sister. There were a few years where I simply refused to cook because it reminded me too much of how down I felt when I had to. My mom's always had a habit of drinking alchohol when things are too much, putting on sad songs and crying when she got drunk. I still have trouble telling when people are drunk because I grew up just thinking people acted like that. She's very depressed nowadays. She barely eats, which I often remind her to. Dinner at her house consists of meat in the airfryer that we individually get whenever we get hungry- it's not a sit-down event. She doesn't parent us, I don't think she knows how. She works mostly from home, having online meetings and sitting behind the laptop all day. She falls asleep on the sofa or stays up until late watching crime series, and I have to get her to bed. Sorry that this got so long- the problem is this:

My dad hasn't seen any of this. He doesn't really know. I've tried to tell him, but he just keeps acting like I'm making stuff up. He tells me I'm being dramatic and that I just want to be traumatized so I can martyr myself, and that I blame everyone else for my problems. He says that I never do any chores, and he doesn't believe I do everything around my mom's house. He says that I've made it up that I parent my sister, that none of the examples I give of how I parent her are parenting, that I'm just her sibling. And- I'm not. I know I'm not. My sister knows I'm not, she knows I raised her and she regularly refers to me as her 'motherly figure' or something like that. I also have a lot of issues now due to how I was raised, both on my mom's and dad's side. But, sometimes I start to believe my dad, because I don't really remember a lot of those times very well. I was still a toddler when my mom was engaged to that asshole and I barely remember anything about the time my mom was sick. I put it up to trauma, but- how do I know I'm not lying to myself or misremembering if I don't remember? Is my dad gaslighting me or am I wrong?

OK, full disclosure, I'm no therapist. I'm just a 20 year old who struggles a lot and goes to a lot of therapy, and wants to help people.

That being said, while I was never in such a severe situation, I have gone through (on a waaaaay smaller scale) some similar experiences. I know what it's like to do the cleaning while your mum is crying, to live on pot noodles as a kid because you can't cook and your parent's can't (because they actually can't or they can but won't) make you anything. To raise yourself. I'm the youngest, so I was "lucky" in not having to raise anyone. I can't imagine that burden and I am so, so fucking sorry that was put on you, especially from such a young age. That's beyond not fair. I hope you know that I'm so so proud of you, for making it this far, when not only did you have to raise yourself and your siblings (that's a thing called parentification) but being stuck with bouncing homes and violence. I am so sorry. Please know it's not your fault. You never did anything wrong. And even if you in some way hurt your siblings (being a "control freak") you were doing the best you could. That's all that matters. You are strong, and amazing, and deserving of love and peace. Just know that, OK? And you're not alone.

What your dad is doing is just wrong. First of all, it's 10000% not in your head, you even have someone else agreeing with you. And forgetting memories? That's a trauma symptom. When things get too hard emotionally, sometimes the mind tries to block it out as a defense mechanism. It goes "this is too much" and puts it in a little box to be opened later when it deems safe enough. Not remembering an event well doesn't mean it didn't happen. Trust me on that, I've had times when I'm falling asleep and suddenly tense up, fists clenched cause I remembered that one time in 2014 when Bad Things ™ happened. It doesn't mean it didn't happen, it just means your mind is being a dick but trying to help by blocking it out.

The tricky thing with gaslighting is it all depends on what the gaslighter actually believes. If he genuinely believes none of this happened, it's not gaslighting, he's just an asshole for not listening… but the part that makes me think "huh, that's not right" is that he gets so defensive. Something is definitely off with that. If he genuinely thought you were making it up, he wouldn't get so angry. I don't know all the facts, but I would say that's gaslighting, or manipulation of some kind. And how you can tell if you're lying to yourself? Well, your sister has seen how things are now. And things are still bad now, so even if you're wrong about the past, a lot of shit is still happening. You are valid either way. And if you're lying about the past to make yourself feel like a martyr, you wouldn't be asking that question, with genuine fear that you're wrong. One question, how do you feel when you think about what's happened? Do you feel sick, uncomfortable, angry, fight-flight-freeze-fawn? Does a certain sound or object or smell make you panic? If you can't remember properly, maybe you have triggers. And if you have triggers, it (or something) happened. (I'm sorry if this sounds harsh!! I just know how overwhelming it can be when your mind tells you you're crazy, and I find harsh truth works best in those instances, I'm sorry if I'm wrong!!). Also if you were making it up, you wouldn't be traumatized and have mental issues. For what it's worth, I believe you wholeheartedly.

OK, sorry this is so long!! I just want to help, but again, please know I'm only a 20 year old with trauma, I'm not a therapist or anyone with a degree, I could be wrong. But I'm not wrong in the fact that you are strong and deserve better than this. I'm not wrong when I tell you something is bad there and to please seek help, tell a teacher, talk to an aunt or uncle or some adult you trust and could possibly live with. Even just talking with a councellor on the phone if you can after school. And I'm not wrong when I tell you you're not alone. If you want to talk more, I'm always here for you, through asks or dms or whatever. You are going to be OK <33

[itadores]

my thoughts on jjk characters + drinking

note: i just wanted to babble a little bit

featuring: fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, nanami kento, todo aoi

genre/warnings: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, a little angsty for gojo’s part toward the end, mentions of drugging (but nothing happens!!), suggestive at the end for nanami’s and todo’s part

fushiguro megumi

fushiguro drinks occasionally- not too often, not too infrequently.

he’s more of a social drinker. he only drinks when he gets roped into it by kugisaki and itadori. (he pretends to think it over every time they bring up wanting to do something and drinking, but he always agrees in the end. by now, kugisaki and itadori know that fushiguro will assent to their plans, but they still go through the act of “convincing” him.)

he’s not a lightweight, but he’s not a heavyweight. he’s somewhere in between. he’s pretty good at handling his alcohol. 

he’s not a big fan of taking shots. watching kugisaki and itadori get shit-faced and having to take care of them at the end of the night is enough to turn him off from drinking too heavily. fushiguro prefers to knock back a few beers and sip on them throughout the night while kugisaki and itadori challenge each other to drinking competitions.

his cheeks get so rosy when he drinks!! it’s the cutest thing ever. his face gets so flushed, and it stands out so much against his fair skin. you can’t help but kiss him on the cheeks multiple times throughout the night because of how cute he looks, which only worsens his blush. </3

he doesn’t drink to get drunk, (he’s traumatized from the times he let himself get riled up by kugisaki and itadori’s playful gibes and got way too drunk as a result.) but he enjoys being buzzed.

he’s pretty quiet when he’s intoxicated, piping up here and there to insert himself into the conversation that goes on around him, but he gets a little more clingy than usual.

fushiguro normally reserves displays of affection for behind closed doors, but once he has enough alcohol in him, he’s more inclined to touch you. he’ll rest his head on your shoulder and bury his face in the curve of your neck. he doesn’t do anything scandalous, but he’s more lax and free with his affection. he sort of forgets that he’s in public, and it’s only when kugisaki directs a teasing remark at him that he remembers.

his face will flame up and he’ll mutter shut up at kugisaki, but he won’t change his position. you’re comfortable and warm, and fushiguro is too relaxed to allow his friends playful teasing to get to him too much.

but the next morning, he will get a little embarrassed when he recalls what he did the previous night in the company of his friends. he’s not ashamed, but he knows that he’ll receive an onslaught of light-hearted teasing comments from kugisaki and itadori later that day when he sees them.

gojo satoru

gojo rarely drinks.

number one, he hates the taste of alcohol. when i say he hates it, i mean he abhors it. he gets a drop of it on his tongue, and he acts like he just ingested poison. or he gets a whiff of the strong scent of alcohol, and his face contorts into an expression that screams that he just smelled something foul!! he’s a lil over dramatic (read: very over dramatic).

number two, he doesn’t like the loss of control and vulnerability that comes with drinking. alcohol messes with his eyes, and he can’t have that. gojo is the strongest sorcerer there is, and he has to be ready for anything at any time. he also gets in his feels when he gets drunk which i’ll touch upon later.

but if he does drink, gojo gets the sugariest concoctions there are. he loves the cute little, fruity mixed drinks that barely taste like alcohol. if it tastes even a little like alcohol, gojo’s face immediately scrunches up in disgust, and he’ll ask the bartender to add some more syrup or dilute the drink more.

he is also the biggest lightweight ever. he should be limited to only one of his sweet, mixed drinks, but he’ll typically down as many as he possibly can before he gets cut off by the bartender, one of his few friends, or you. and when gojo does cut off, he tries to insist that he’s alright, even if he’s slurring his words and tripping over his own feet.

if gojo’s buzzed, he gets really clingy and chatty. gojo wants to be touching you at all times as he talks about everything and anything. he likes to crowd into your personal space, pressing his arm against yours as he babbles. 

it can be a bit much since gojo doesn’t stop talking for a moment when he starts, but he’s really cute when he rambles about nothing. he gets so animated, wildly swinging his arms around as he gestures. you do have to make sure he doesn’t accidentally knock something over with his long arms. (it’s happened one too many times. you’ve had to apologize for gojo’s behavior when he accidentally splashed his drink on a man’s crisp, white button-down shirt.)

if gojo’s drunk, he gets surprisingly forlorn. it’s pretty obvious when gojo’s crossed the line from being buzzed to being drunk because he gets a little more quiet, a little more serious. it’s a strange look on gojo considering he typically plays the role of the fool.

if it’s even possible, gojo gets even more clingy when he’s drunk. grabby hands tug you closer to him, to the point where you’re nearly sitting entirely on his lap. there’s an edge of desperation to his movements like he needs to be as close as he possibly can to you.

at that point, you leave wherever you are, pasting on an apologetic smile as your friends give you understanding looks, so you can take gojo home.

it’s in the safety of your home that gojo falls apart. quietly, he cries into your chest as you hold him in your arms. he doesn’t say much, but what he does say breaks your heart.

don’t leave me. i don’t want to be alone. don’tleavei’msorrydon’tleavedon’tleave—

you just hold him tighter and murmur soft reassurances, that you won’t leave him, that gojo won’t be alone, that he’ll never be alone if you have any say in the matter.

the night ends when gojo finally falls asleep after exhausting himself completely.

part of the reason gojo hates drinking may be attributed to the bitter taste of alcohol, but the main reason that gojo hates drinking is because all of the turbulent feelings and emotions he suppresses when he’s sober rise to the surface, forcing him to confront them.

it is a reminder that although gojo may be the strongest, even the strongest can fall.

(luckily, you will be there to catch gojo whenever that happens.)

nanami kento

he drinks regularly. 

it’s something that he started indulging in when he began working as a salaryman and continues doing when he returns to the world of sorcery.

both lines of work are stressful and draining, and nanami drinks to help take the edge off. he’s the type to drink every friday evening after work with coworkers. when he starts working as a sorcerer again, nanami grabs drinks with ieiri pretty often. sometimes, ijichi or utahime joins them. gojo rarely comes. nanami and ieiri catch up over drinks and complain about how everything is shit in their line of work.

he has a high tolerance. he’s a heavyweight and good at handling his alcohol.

he rarely gets drunk. nanami prefers to drink just enough alcohol until the weight he carries on his shoulders lightens and the tension in his muscles relaxes. his drink of choice is either beer or sake.

once the alcohol starts to hit nanami, he loosens his tie and rolls up his sleeves to his forearms and if you’re with him, he places a casual hand on your thigh as he chats with ieiri. he’ll squeeze your leg every so often and whisper into your ear to check in on you and make sure you’re doing alright.

nanami always keeps a close eye on you when you accompany him drinking. he likes to make sure you’re doing okay for his own peace of mind.

if you’re sitting at a booth or at the bar, you and nanami always sit side by side. shoulder to shoulder, your presence is grounding. reassuring. nanami likes knowing that you’re there with him.

if you get up to leave for any reason, nanami makes sure to keep your drink within your line of sight. it’s just a safety precaution. nanami knows there are some sick fucks in the world, and he will be damned if he allows anything to ever happen to you. (one time, a man didn’t realize that you were there with nanami and tried to slip something into your drink when you left your seat at the bar to use the restroom. let’s just say that the way nanami handled the situation left the man scarred for his life and nearly pissing his pants. you still have no idea that anything ever happened.)

if you happen to be out with his friends / coworkers, he ensures that you’re a part of the conversation. he makes sure that you don’t feel left out or excluded, whispering in your ear and clarifying terms or concepts that you may not understand.

if you wander off from his side to go dance, nanami watches you from the outskirts of the crowd with a soft smile on his face. if you try to drag him to the dance floor, he’ll give in after some half-hearted resistance. nanami could blame it on the alcohol, but he knows that he could never say no to you, even if he was sober.

the alcohol does help, though. it helps loosen him up, and nanami sways to the beat with his hands on your hips and your hands wrapped around his neck. he pulls you much closer than he would if he was sober, leaving barely any space between you as you dance. it’s sensual and leaves you a little breathless by the end of it.

that’s normally around the time that you and nanami decide to leave wherever you are. (ieiri gives you two a knowing look while gojo shamelessly wolf-whistles at you both. nanami pretends that he cannot hear gojo.)

todo aoi

he is such a boisterous drunk.

if you think that todo can be a lot when he’s sober, he is so much worse when he’s drunk.

he one hundred percent does not shut up about takada-chan or you, his significant other, when he’s intoxicated. people hate going out drinking with todo because of that fact. literally, todo nonstop talks about how great takada-chan’s latest single was or how cute you are.

even if people explicitly express their disinterest in the conversation (todo’s “friends” have nothing against you, but if they have to hear another word out of todo’s mouth praising you, they’re going to lose their minds.), todo acts like he didn’t hear them. (to be honest, there’s a chance that todo actually didn’t hear them because he gets so caught up in thinking about takada-chan or you that everything else goes in through one ear and out the other.)

he’ll whip out his phone to show whoever he’s with pictures of you. (he has multiple photo albums dedicated to you.) they desperately try to exit the conversation, but todo will just go on and on with no end in sight. some people (cough, cough mai or momo) will straight up just walk away mid-conservation once they get fed up with todo, but other people (mechamaru or poor miwa) get held hostage in conversation with todo because they don’t know how to leave because todo will keep on dragging them back in.

it gets to the point where mai texts you the address of where they’re at and says “you need to come right now. todo won’t stop talking about you.”

when you arrive to the izakaya, you watch todo blabber with a mix of fondness and exasperation. it’s cute that he talks about you so much, but you can’t help but feel pity for his friends.

once todo realizes you’re there (because one of his friends pointed you out), he beams so brightly that you feel like you’re staring into the sun. you get the urge to squint, but todo scoops you into a tight, almost rib crushing hug before you can.

he starts blabbing about how he missed you so much (even if he just saw you a few hours ago) and how he loves you so much while you struggle to breathe in todo’s crushing embrace.

eventually, he lets you down, allowing you to suck in a desperate breath.

todo is shameless, even more so when he’s intoxicated. he’ll make you sit on his lap while he keeps a tight arm around your waist. it’s a little embarrassing if you dislike heavy pda, but you’ve been with todo long enough that you’ve grown accustomed to it.

he lavishes you in so many compliments that it makes your cheeks heat up a little. todo normally compliments you a lot, but there’s something about him being so drunk and genuine that his words make your heart flutter.

when you reward todo with a kiss to the cheek for his sweet words, he smiles so wide and demands another kiss. and another. and another.

todo’s friends almost regret telling you to come out to meet them because of how sickeningly sweet and in love you guys are.

(they still cannot believe that todo was the first out of all of them to get a partner first.)

when todo gets a little too handsy (because it’s inevitable), you take that as the sign for you to take todo and head out.

todo’s friends breathe a sigh of relief when you leave with a drunk todo trailing after you like a lovesick puppy.

[mywheelieweirdlife]

I just watched this TikTok about how it's always lowkey terrifying deciding how much of the reality of your chronic illness because of how it may permanently alter peoples perception of you.

And it made me think about exactly how much I don't say.

And like, my best friend knows the most, but also until recently hadn't actually seen me just go down in front of her... and that was online, not in person.

She's seen the 'drunk mermaid' stage where I'm pre or post seizure, have no leg control and no arm control and am just loopy... but never actively been there when I fell or passed out or had a grand mal like seizure.

My abusive ex had... and that's also why a lot of people haven't... but not many people are privy to how hard it is, even my other chronically ill friends.

I don't talk about the loss of bladder control or the ibs like symptoms that come up because my body decided to turn off my digestive system for a week so I don't eat properly for about 3-4 days at a time because I'd rather feel weird about not being physically able to eat than deal with the risk of throwing up because I tried to force myself to 'eat normally'.

And living off multivitamins and supplements and snacks because it's easier for my body than 'normal meals' but constantly feeling like I'm returning to an ED or panicking about going back to being severely underweight because I can't eat normally.

Or that sometimes, I have 'control' of my legs, but the muscles are so tight that there's basically no range of motion and I'm spending hours massaging in muscle relaxant creams crying in pain wishing with every fibre of my being that I get hit by a car and have them cut off because I don't want to deal with the ridiculously stiff rock hard legs that refuse to release for days and have nerve spasms through them. And then I feel guilty for that, but it's the truth.

And the days my rib literally goes 'pop' as it moves out of place and I want to cry and scream and swear and I can't in public because it happens all the gd time so I just cry and laugh it off and I just can't be honest with people about 'this hurts and it's scary' because it's also normal.

I brush off my seizures and my body paralysing and spasming and the tremors and the brain fog and the speech impediment it brought with it and the nerve pain and the digestive issues and the migraines and the insomnia and the anger at the destruction of my body and life and career (the one I previously had).

And I don't brush it off because it's not impossibly hard and stressful and exhausting and a constant battle that consumes every moment of my life… but because if I don't pretend it doesn't hurt, fake a convincing smile and laugh and say 'It's this or die and I have kiddos who need me.' (Which has been my line since I was diagnosed with depression and really really struggling and didn't want to end up in hospital and I would've never expected then that it would turn into this).... I lose even more.

Like if I lose the gentle pity and the honestly really creepy almost faked 'inspiration' speech abled people give me, I get the brushed off, ignored and hated version where people feel 'justified' in the dehumanisation of me and spit on and kick me and cuss me out in public.

Absolute strangers just attacking me because I don't have a 'purpose' that fits their world narrative and expectations of an adult human.

So like, I'm writing a book is my new answer to 'what do you do' when before it was 'recovery or at least stabilising my condition so it's a lot of medical appointments.' Which is nice because people assume a lot of writers get paid while writing (which while wrong works in my favour in not getting verbal harassment or assaulted).

But like, even if I didn't write, even if I never worked a paid job again; I'm a human being with purpose outside of employment and entertainment.

I'm free therapy and life advice to my friends, I'm a late night companion who's always happy for a call even when I'm loopy af (which honestly just makes most of my friends laugh because our humour matches so well), I'm a bundle of joy and random knowledge and a filtering system of good and bad ideas and offering new perspectives.

If provided with accessible housing and community, I would be the best house husband and father because I adore children and want to be a parent and if it wasn't for the laws of my country saying I have to raise a biological child to adulthood first, I would automatically sign up to be foster guardian/parent or adopt queer, neurodivergent, disabled children and provide them with a safe and understanding home where their needs are accommodated and they're welcome and safe and wanted and loved.

I would garden and look after animals and sign and read to kids and help little ones learn and do homework and teach them how to safely interact with animals and insects and the world around them and help them learn about different religions and cultures and how to be polite and respectful and find beauty and wonder everywhere.

And that's just as important as someone who works a traditional 9-5.

I'm important, others who are also disabled are important, we have wants and needs and dreams and humour and laughter and feelings.

We're more than we're able to be and it's not even our fault because they don't want to see us.

Because if I let them see all of me, all my struggles, if I admitted that actually I do need help, a lot more help than I ask for, especially because this house and this community and this world is not set up for me... they would stop seeing me.

They would stop seeing all the beautiful chaotic personality traits and history that I love about myself and that is loved about me because I'm 'too broken' to be fun anymore.

And that's always in the back of my mind and haunts me. And I know I'm not alone with it because the others in the community I follow and who follow me are the same where none of us can say how bad it is because ableds treat us like crap when they do and ignore the fact you're all some of the funniest and most interesting people who from the internet can change my life through the most beautiful and important posts.

We deserve better, we deserve to be seen and heard and loved for everything we are, even and especially the hardest parts.

Also; terfs and devotees DNI (and with full disrespect, fuck off, you're not welcome here and will be blocked and reported on sight after the horrific shit I found last time I had to go on a devotee blocking spree).

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 21 - Nowhere to Run [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood, nightmares.

Word Count: 4300

Summary: Everyone needs a shelter.

For all your life, your sister had always said she hated watching horror movies with you because you would always criticize every character and their choices in the movie.

Who would even stay where they were when they knew there was danger outside, when they knew there was something coming for them?

You had never thought you’d learn the answer first hand;

Because there was nothing else to do, and because that was exactly what you were doing.

Spencer and the rest of his team had sent you away from that basement so that you could get some fresh air and at least attempt to get away from the greeting written on the wall with blood but you knew it was impossible.

There was no running away from that, you had seen it already.

You dangled your legs off the pier back and forth, keeping your gaze on the lake that looked so calm that it was almost like a painting. Funny, you hadn’t ever stopped to enjoy it when you were still a child, you had never actually sat there on the pier to take a breath, wrapped in the safety that would soon disappear.

The footsteps coming closer pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned you head as Spencer sat down next to you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you croaked out and he ran his fingers through his curls.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “I’m not sure what home is for me at this point, to be honest with you,” you murmured, “Besides I heard the other agents talking, you guys are going to be pretty busy the moment the rest of your team gets here.”

He heaved a sigh, biting inside his cheek but you kept your gaze on the lake.

“It makes it official right?” you asked, “All these murders…It’s not really about my father’s legacy. It’s about me.”

He stole a look at you, “Y/N…”

“It’s okay professor,” you said, “Trust me, I’m not going to run and scream.”

“The profile is changing constantly with every piece of evidence-“

“Spencer.”

He let out a breath, pursing his lips.

“It is pointing that way so far,” he muttered, “It doesn’t matter though. His legacy or an obsession with you, we’re still going to catch him.”

A silence fell upon you and you cleared your throat, pointing at the woods on the other side of the lake.

“Mina and I used to play the princess and the monster over there,” you said, “I mean… It was either me who was the princess or Mina and I were saving some imaginary princess because Mina wanted to be friends with her.” You used air quotes, “I don’t know whose shock was more fake when she came out, mine or mom’s.”

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah?”

“Mm hm, and right over there,” you pointed at the right, “Linc chased me with a worm in his hand to scare me off, and I ended up falling into the damn lake.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Then Mina pushed him into the lake too and we all got grounded for the whole weekend.” You let out a breath and pointed back at the cabin with your thumb, “And right there, dad showed me how to kill someone for the first time.”

His head shot up, “What?”

You scoffed, “He didn’t tell you that during those sessions?”

Spencer shook his head, frowning.

“He taught me…” you wetted your lips, “How to- how to hunt, that’s what he called it. Predator and prey. After teaching me how to analyze places to find a weapon, he taught me how to find my way in the woods. Just in case. He used to um-“ you cleared your throat, “I don’t really remember all of it, I don’t know how much of it are nightmares or memories, but I remember once he dragged me here in the middle of the night, and he opened the door and there was this man…”

“Petal honey, don’t get so close to him,” your father called out from the kitchen he sharpened the knife as you took a step closer to the man who was gagged and bleeding profusely, still whimpering on the floor. Even in the dim light you could see the look of terror on his face and your heart skipped a beat as you turned your head to look at your father.

“Daddy, he-“ you shifted your weight from one foot to other, “Maybe we can just leave him like this. He’d be dead by the morning.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked before getting closer to you, flipping the knife in his hand and the man started yelling through the gag, but it was muffled. Your father extended his hand, motioning at the huge teddy bear you were hugging closer to your chest and you bit on your lip, then handed him that.

“You can get the teddy back after you answer 3 questions right, you know the rules,” he told you, “Alright, if I wanted him to die quickly, where would I stab?”

“Jugular.”

“Where’s the jugular?”

You pointed at the man’s neck, “There.”

“Good. What if I wanted him to suffer for hours with just one stab wound?”

You paused and scrunched up your nose, forcing your mind for the information before you looked up at him.

“In the stomach,” you said, “Stomach acid hurts.”

He thought for a second, then handed you the teddy back.

“Good job honey,” he said and walked to the man with the knife in his hand.

“I couldn’t do anything,” you pressed your lips together, “For hours and hours he tortured him and when we got back home, I went to bed and the next morning I wouldn’t stop shivering, I kept throwing up and my mom thought I had the flu so we ended up not coming to the cabin that weekend. I know how he—” you clicked your tongue, “I know how he pretends to be a normal guy. During those interviews, that documentary, even in those sessions with you he keeps pretending like he’s normal, but I know him. I know the real monster and I…”  you sniffled and cleared your throat, “Profiler or not, you have no idea what he’s capable of. He put me through actual hell, Spencer. No wonder I can’t remember half of this shit, I think I’d lose my mind if I did.”

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t stop him.”

He frowned, “How old were you?”

“Seven.”

“You couldn’t have stopped him even if you wanted to,” Spencer told you, “You were a child.”

“I could’ve told someone,” you murmured, looking at the lake, “I could’ve done something.”

“You were a child,” he repeated, “Children trust their parents, okay? You know it as well as I do that he’s a master at manipulation. Whatever he has done, it’s not your fault.”

“I doubt those bodies in the basement would agree with you,” you managed to say and let out a humorless chuckle, “Besides, I’m my father’s daughter, remember? You told me so yourself.”

The impact of your words would’ve been surprising if you weren’t so distracted by your own misery. He pulled back as if you had just slapped him, his hazel eyes searching your face and he swallowed thickly, opening and closing his mouth like he was at loss for words.

“I didn’t mean—” he paused, shaking his head “Y/N, that wasn’t the truth.”

You grabbed the cigarette out of your purse and lit it, dangling your legs back and forth over the pier.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged your shoulders, “You’re not the first person to think that, and weirdly enough, you’re not the first ex to think that either-“

“That’s not what I think,” he insisted, “Nothing about you even suggests that you’re anything like him, behavior or psychological wise. I just wanted to—“ he hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenching, “Hurt you back.”

You tried to smile, still keeping your gaze on the lake as you exhaled the smoke.

“Congratulations professor, you’re pretty good at that.”

A silence fell upon you both as you twirled the cigarette between your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was so gentle that you turned your head to look at him, “I really am. I never should’ve hit below the belt, not like that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No really,” you insisted, “I don’t want to talk about that anymore, I’m just so—“ you closed your eyes for a moment “God, I’m just so tired Spencer. You have no idea how tired I am.”

“I know.”

“And it just doesn’t end,” you murmured and opened your eyes, “Right? I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months now, and everything is getting so out of my control.”

“It will end soon.”

“But we don’t know that,” you insisted as almost a hysterical laugh escaped from your lips, “Do you want to hear the worst part? I don’t think this feeling will ever go away. At this point, I don’t even remember how it feels like not to be afraid.”

He heaved a sigh, then looked over his shoulder when Luke approached you two.

“Sorry guys,” he said, shifting his weight, “But um- Reid, we need you in there.”

“Can’t someone else-“

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you stood up and dusted off your jeans, “Seriously. Besides, the sooner you catch this guy, the sooner…I don’t know, the sooner things go back to normal, whatever that means.”

“You can’t just drive home like this.”

“I’ll drive her,” Luke said, making you turn your head,

“Dude, aren’t you needed here too?”

“I’m going to go back to help out Rossi,” he said, “Not all of the team has to be here, I mean-“ he nodded at Spencer, “We’ve got our genius here, he’s got it covered. I can take the babysitting duty.”

“No pastries for you anymore.”

“I would like to rephrase my statement,” he said quickly, making you smile before you shrugged your shoulders.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

“Y/N-“ Spencer started but you shot him a look.

“I’m fine,” you said, “Go do your Sherlock stuff, professor. Solve the case so that I can start planning weddings again instead of hanging around creepy cabins. I’m just gonna go home and get drunk, so you’ll probably get a voicemail or two from me, just saying.”

“Can’t wait,” Spencer smiled softly and you followed Luke to your car, then handed him the keys and got in the passenger seat. He started the car and you slipped a little in the seat, leaning your knees on the dash.

“How are you holding up?” Luke asked you and you heaved a sigh.

“I feel like I’m in a horror movie to be honest with you,” you muttered, “Who the fuck writes on a wall with blood, I mean like who are you, Michael Myers?”

“I didn’t mean the case,” he stole a look at you and you raised your brows.

“Ah, that,” you said, “Well, I don’t have a bff that sets me up with people in night clubs, so there’s that.”

He hissed in a breath, “Garcia told you.”

“Mm hm,” you looked out of the window, “No hard feelings, don’t worry. I dated lots of frat boys back when I was in college, so I’m very familiar with the bro code.”

“You dated frat boys?” he made a face and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah I started from the bottom and worked my way up to the genius back there.”

He chuckled, “I take it you still haven’t told him you threatened a serial killer because he happened to threaten him?”

“I would’ve done the same for anyone.”

“Bullshit.”

Your jaw dropped, “I let you drive my car and this is the thanks I get, Alvez?”

“Okay trust fund baby, I’m driving you home, you’re not doing me a favor.”

You let out a small laugh, “Eh, I’m not that bad.”

“Your sister threatened a whole police department using lawyers.”

“They had it coming,” you said and he cleared his throat.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was an actual fiasco.”

Your head shot up and you turned to him, “Hm?”

“That whole thing with Reid. He’s not over you.”

“He will be,” you murmured, “Eventually.”

“Do you want to hear why it was a fiasco?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s an exaggeration-“

“He spent the whole night talking about you,” he cut you off and your jaw dropped, “Yeah. More like, she asked him about his job and he mentioned the case, then talked about you and how you couldn’t be the killer for hours. For a second, I thought he’d go up to the DJ booth and start broadcasting from there.”

You could feel the warmth spreading through you, but you nibbled on your lip, trying to ignore it.

“I really hurt him Luke.”

He stole a look at you from the corner of his eye.

“I know,” he said, “That’s pretty clear. I don’t know which one is worse, that you hurt him or that it doesn’t seem to change anything on his part.”

You could feel the burning in your eyes but you slipped a little in your seat and kept your eyes on the road.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I don’t know which one is worse either.”

                                                   ***

The worst thing about nightmares?

There was no escape from them, and no amount of booze could make them go away.

You woke up to your own scream and leaped out of the bed so fast that you got caught in your sheets and fell on your face, your ears ringing. You could feel the bile burning your throat, so you covered your mouth and rushed to the bathroom to throw up into the toilet, barely aware of the sobs rocking your body. You wiped at your mouth and stood up on shaky legs, then brushed your teeth, still breathing hard.

You were there again, in that graveyard with your father, but this time you couldn’t brush it off as just a nightmare.

It was way too detailed, way too familiar to be a nightmare.

You wiped at your forehead and washed your face with ice cold water, desperate for some sort of a relief and leaned over the sink, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Fuck this shit,” you rasped out to yourself before turning the tap off and raised your glances to look in the mirror.

Well.

You looked exactly like how you felt.

You still didn’t trust your legs but still managed to leave the bathroom, Making your way to your bedroom was more than enough to give you goosebumps, but you snatched your phone off the bedside table. You almost dropped it because of how badly you were trembling with fear, but managed to hold it tighter, found his name in the contacts and took the phone to your ear.

He answered immediately.

“Hello?”

“Spencer, hi,” you said, still taking deep breaths, “I um… I had this- this nightmare and I- I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”

He hesitated for a moment, “Are you okay? Why are you breathing so fast?”

“Not a panic attack,” you wiped at your nose, “Not yet anyway.”

“Okay, I’m still coming over-“

“No!” you cut him off, then licked your lips, “No I can’t…. I can’t stay here right now, I need to get out of here. Can we please meet somewhere or-or-“

“How about my place?” he asked and you heard the unmistakable clinking of keys, “You can’t drive like that, I’ll come and pick you up, wait there-“

“No I’ll just take a taxi.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll take a taxi, just send me the location,” you told him and hung up, quickly got dressed, got into your coat, then went downstairs when your taxi arrived. You still felt like you could throw up again, but the cool air coming from the open car window helped as the driver started the car after you gave him the location.

There was a beauty in the city at night, especially in chilly nights like these. The small raindrops falling down your face offered some kind of a small comfort while you tried your hardest to ignore the images flashing through your mind, taking a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs. You leaned your head to the open window, closing your eyes and letting the noise of the city drag you out of your own mind.

By the time the taxi pulled over, you were almost lost in your thoughts and only when the driver let you know that you were there you opened your eyes. You paid him, and looked up at the building before making your way inside.

It was almost strange how you hadn’t seen his apartment when you two were dating, but now here you were.

After the break up. At three in the morning.

You wiped at your nose and fixed your hair before you knocked on the door and tried to control your breathing, but that felt way too difficult. As soon as he opened the door, everything you had planned to tell him in your head disappeared and you looked up at him in complete silence for a couple of seconds, you had almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t in his work clothes. A warmth filled you, the urge to rush into his arms taking over you but you managed to fight the urge and stepped into the apartment, desperately searching for the right words.

“I had that nightmare, again.” You turned to him as soon as you entered the living room, stumbling over your words, “That graveyard nightmare, but Spencer I think it wasn’t just a dream, I think you were right and it was a memory and there was someone else but I can’t see a face and—“

“Y/N.”

“And I think we were there because of me because it all just connected, we were at that graveyard and he was actually digging a grave and I can remember the face of the victim but not—“

“Sweetheart, breathe.” he approached you in three long steps and his warm hands cupped your cheek so that he could look at you better, “I’m here, I’m listening, okay? Just breathe and tell me. Slowly.”

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

“I had that nightmare again,” you managed to say, “But I think that’s a memory.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “How?”

“Because at the graveyard, dad told me something,” you said, “He was- he was digging a grave, and he said, Remember, you’re not supposed to make them bleed if you can’t kill them. And I remembered when that happened, back at the cabin, during the training, I… I untied one of the victims and pretended like he got out of them somehow.”

His hand slipped a little so that he could brush his fingers over your neck, almost soothing you.

“It didn’t work,” you shook your head, “As soon as he got out of the cabin, dad hunted him down and dragged him back into the cabin, he had lost way too much blood to make a run for it. Spencer, that’s a memory, not just a nightmare.”

“There was another person with you? At the graveyard?”

“He took the victim to the graveyard later on, but yes. There was someone, I just…I can’t remember who,” you heaved a shaky breath, “You need to tell the team-“

“We’re already checking the graveyards within the driving distance to the cabin, I told them today.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Did you?”

“Yeah,” he said and his eyes searched your face, “You’re shaking.”

You tried to smile and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, running your thumb over his warm skin, “It’s cold out there.”

You were lying, he knew you were lying and you knew that he knew, but neither of you commented on that. He hesitated for a moment before he pulled you closer to him, letting you bury your face into his chest as he held you tight and you inhaled his scent, closing your eyes.

He was right earlier. This was an addiction.

“Were you sleeping?” you muttered into his chest before you pulled back to look up at him. He scoffed and shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I was working on the case.”

“You really need to sleep.”

“It’s ironic to hear that from you,” he pointed out and that made a smile warm your face.

“Ah but I did sleep,” you said, “I just woke up because of the nightmares. It still counts as sleep.”

“I doubt that,” he said and you turned your head before you started walking around the room.

Spencer’s apartment was more or less what you imagined, to be honest. Contrary to yours, it was darker and obviously older. The wooden desk was covered in papers and books, there was a library by the corner of the room almost stacked to the brim, and overall it reminded you so much of him that just being in his apartment made you feel-

Safer. Better. Calmer.

“Lovely place,” you commented as you approached the library to drag your fingertips over the cracked and old spines of the books and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shift his weight.

“Yeah it’s not- it’s not like yours but I like it.”

“Not like mine?” you looked over your shoulder and he cleared his throat.

“Mm hm.”

“I like it better than mine,” you said and he frowned,

“Why?”

“It looks like someone is actually living here,” you motioned around and he tilted his head.

“Is that a good thing?”

“It is,” you said, “I mean I can see….you in here. I can’t see any part of me in my apartment.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “My mom has this person who designs her houses, she designed my apartment too. It’s pretty but it’s just not me I guess. It’s kind of sad when you think about it.”

He hummed, his eyes watching your every move and you pulled a book from the shelf, holding it up so that he could see the title.

“You don’t strike me as a Petrarch guy,” you tilted your head, “Are you?”

He raised his brows and stole a look at the book in your hand.

“I do not pray, since there is no purpose, that my heart should ever burn less fiercely, but only that she might share part of the fire.” he recited and your jaw dropped before you pouted.

“I hate bluffing with you,” you commented, making him chuckle and you stifled a yawn while turning the book in your hands.

“You can’t work for the whole night if you have a guest.” you gestured at the wooden table and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I won’t if my guest promises she’ll try to sleep.”

“I don’t like this deal.”

“That’s the deal you’re getting,” he said and you clicked your tongue, then walked to the center of the room and sat down on the floor before you lied down.

“I have a bed, you know.”

“I don’t want to get comfortable and fall asleep yet. I want to enjoy this more.”

“Enjoy what? Lying on the floor?”

You shook your head and kept your gaze on the ceiling, the dim light of the apartment and lights from the outside creating shadows there.

“I don’t have that…mind numbing fear right now,” you managed to say “I want to make it last. It’ll come back when I wake up tomorrow, trust me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, then heaved a sigh and sat down on the floor as well, leaning his back to the leather armchair. You tossed him the book and he caught it mid-air, shooting you a quizzical look.

“Read me your favorite,” you said and he smiled slightly.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’ll help me get out of my head, and it might help you….ignore the fact that your night club date was terrible, apparently.”

He raised his brows, “Luke told you?”

You tried to stop your smirk, but it was impossible,

“Yeah he did,” you said and bit inside your cheek for a moment, “Thank you though.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me.”

His gaze on you was gentle, “I wish you would believe in yourself too,” he told you, “You’re not what he tried to turn you into.”

You dragged the tip of your tongue over your lip.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we should move on?”

He took a deep breath, his brows furrowed in thought.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “We probably should. But do I think we can move on? I don’t think so.”

You nodded slowly, that burning in your eyes getting even worse as he turned the pages until he found what he was looking for, then cleared his throat and started reading.

“I have offered you my heart a thousand times

O my sweet warrior, only to make peace

with your lovely eyes: but it does not please you

with your noble mind, to stoop so low.”

You smiled to yourself, painfully aware of why he picked that one, then closed your eyes, his voice washing over you.

“And if some other lady has hope of it,

she lives in powerless, deceiving hope:

and it can never be what it was to me,

since I too disdain what does not please you.”

Chapter 22

[dayseternal-blog]

Hi days! I know you're the best person to go to for some NH fic recommendations. Can you share with us really angsty NH fics? I've read White Lillies, that amount of angst is revitalizing I LOVE IT!!! big thanks!!!

HELLO

For how fluffy NaruHina is, there SURE ARE A LOT of shippers who LOVE NARUHINA ANGST.  I’ve been asked for angst recs far more than any other type????

I will now compile every angst fic rec I’ve ever made into one long list.  (folks can see if there’s anything I’ve missed 🤓)

NARUHINA ANGST

“A Place In The Sun” by ihaveastorminme - Rated M for smut and depictions of violence, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto realizes that he’s not enough to love her.  He’s not enough to save her, either.

“A Fate Worse than Death” by Caelestia - Rated M for smut, ABO Canon-Divergent, One-shot.  Naruto, improperly socialized and traumatized as a child, rejects his inner Alpha, which has devastating consequences on his family and marriage.  “A Risky Bet” is its fluffier follow-up.

“Girl No 10″ by meeiwen - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto makes a mistake with a dancer one drunk night.  Years later when he meets her again, he begins realizing his perfect life is a lie, but he’s too late to fix it. Angst if you want to know what dying feels like warning.

“if this is love (why does it hurt?)” by ClairvoyantDreamer1011 - Rated M, Friends with benefits Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata knew many things about Naruto Uzumaki. She knew that his heated glances meant ‘I want you’; that lingering touches whispered 'please’, and that the sight of his back to her screamed 'leave’. But she couldn’t tell you what they were to each other for the life of her.

“If You Said You Loved Me” by destiny’s sweet melody - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot.  Naruto begins to realize he took her feelings for granted and now he’s too late.

“The Ring that Binds” by softwind - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Naruto and Hinata are married.  So why is Naruto calling “Sakura” in his sleep?

“Why would innocent little Hinata be out dressed like that?” (One-shot) and its follow-up “On Any Given Day” (Long One-Shot) by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent. Hinata tries to move on from Naruto, right when he realizes he wants to keep her.

“For the Future” by @utsus - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata understands this better than anyone else. Naruto is easy to love.  (I actually just hate the ending a lot.  That’s what puts this on the list).

“Gilded Butterflies” by Kid Crisis - Rated M for depictions of violence, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Tenshi, beautiful prostitute of the Villa, realized from a very young age that people seem to do nothing but empty her, and not even Naruto seems capable of convincing her otherwise.

“Serenity Prayer” by @katarinahime - Rated M for smut, substance abuse, PTSD, and depictions of domestic violence and non-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.

“Common Side Effects” (Naruto’s POV) by @katarinahime & “Medicated” (Hinata’s POV) by @szajnie - Rated E for smut, substance abuse, mental illness, and depictions of violence, self-harm, and attempted suicide, Crime/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata, in a struggling relationship, must confront the pain inside before they can love each other.

“In Another Life” by theGeneralissimo - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. In which Naruto listens to his mother’s advice and marries a girl like her. And lives to regret it.

“Mistake” by Cherry1315 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto falls apart, and, unfortunately, Hinata has to pick up the pieces.

“Until the Day I Love” by BluBlooThalassophile - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Everyone is recovering from the war.

“Hidden From Sunlight” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. How different could Naruto’s life be when the girl that seemed 'barely around’ is truly hardly around at all?

“Powerless” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated M for depictions of violence and character death, Mystery/Crime High School/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. His family’s past can’t be taken at face-value, and it comes clawing back to hurt him in ways that are out of his control. DELETED FIC.

“21 Days” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E includes dub-con, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Anonymous internet friends decide to meet up IRL and give each other their first times.

“April - Too Late/Missed Opportunities” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, College/Modern AU, One-shot. After her 3 years away for college, Naruto decides to confess.

“June - Honor/Sacrifice” from “Still Falling for You” by @chloelapomme - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto marries Hinata, the girl of his dreams.  If only she loved him back.

“you totally almost killed me that one time (it’s okay I still love you)” by @itachiboutit - Rated G, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Complete.  Naruto, a promising baseball player, returns to Konoha Prep, and, without so much as even a “long time no see,” hits a ball into Hinata’s face. (This isn’t really angsty…but I get really upset in Ch. 4 and cry a lot every time.)

“Because I Love You” aka “Arranged Marriage AU Take 2″ (Same fic) by @magmawrites - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. A canon divergent fic in which The Last never happened and Hinata Hyuga was promised to another.

“Asylum AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Modern AU, One-shot. What’s to say what’s real and what isn’t? The only thing that’s valid and true in all universes is their love for one another.

“Dreaming of AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M for implied suicide, Modern AU, One-shot. Naruto dreams of her. He grows to love her. Dreams are nice. Too bad reality is a nightmare. (Most likely a continuation of the Asylum AU.)

“Memory Loss AU” from “Tales of Two Ninjas” by @magmawrites - Rated M, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. I LOVE YOU. Will I ever hear those words from your lips again?

“The Path We Walk” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. With his memory of the past five years missing, Naruto never expected to be married to Hinata, and now he must navigate through the maze that is their life together with no memory of how he got there.

“Easier For Me” by @tenney-shoes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Two-shot, Complete. How will Hinata handle waking up with no memory of how she got there?

“My Escape” by @marimare-writes - Rated T, Amnesia Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto wakes up from a coma with no recollection of life after graduating the Academy. Hinata, anxious and with a secret that will change both of their lives, struggles with what to do.

“Consolation Prize: Through Her Distorted Mirror” by mysterious intentions - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete.  Her love is taken lightly, as if her heart could change so easily.

“Good Luck” By LovelyLori - Rated T, Flowers/Ballet AU, Two-Shot, Complete. A Japanese ballet company arrives in Naruto’s town.  Can love transcend language barriers? (I spent HOURS looking for this one, it totally breaks my heart.)

“On the outside looking in” by @char-lotteral - Rated E for smut, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto’s in love with his best friend’s girlfriend fiancee.  And he’s not moving on.

“Sincerely, Uzumaki Naruto” by @bkgsbby​ - Rated T, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. After his wife leaves him a week after giving birth to their son, Naruto moves back to Konoha. He adjusts to life as a single father, with the help of his friends and surprisingly, his old crush.

“Road to Redemption” by averagejane497 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto’s made a lot of mistakes in his life, especially concerning the women he loves. Maybe this time he can get it right.

“You’re the One” by AnimeloverNUMBA100 - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. After 4 desperate years, Hinata finally asked Naruto out. He decides to give her a chance, but his feelings for Sakura has never faded. Hinata is slowly losing hope as time goes on…and she soon chooses to leave him.

Untitled by @randomprose - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Prompt: Hinata finds out that Naruto told Minato that Sakura is his girlfriend.

“Jitters” by ncfan - Rated T, Canon-Compliant, One-shot. He has her heart but he doesn’t even know it.

“The Red Umbrella” by ncfan - Rated G, Canon-Divergent, One-shot. As the rain hits her, Hinata thinks about what she doesn’t have, and what she’ll never have now.

“Duplicity” by GoldKing - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Uzumaki Sakura wants to know why Hinata’s children are blond.

“My Favorite Night” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Hinata harbors deeper feelings for Naruto after three years of being his roommate. When he starts dating Sakura, Hinata decides it’s in her heart’s best interest to turn the other way, and leaves Naruto for good with a heart-breaking secret in tow.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which…Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

“Blurred Lines” by @vegebulsoup - Rated E, Police / Cops and Robbers Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Detective Naruto Uzumaki is having a hard time staying focused at work due to an elusive, dark-haired beauty.  (Starts off fun and smutty, grows angsty).

“I want you to cry” and its sequel “Road of Tears” by Devahhole - Rated E for graphic murder, dub-con/non-con, and smut, High School AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A sociopath blinded by revenge runs into his greatest opponent.

“Absolute” by @ssa25 - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. She was his kind, shy and innocent friend. Until she wasn’t. He was her pure, beautiful and unrequited love. Until he wasn’t.

I’m very glad that you enjoyed my “White Lilies” fic!!  Here’s everything I could think of for you to cry or stress out over.

SAD READING 😢

[archons-maid]

Genshin Vampire Headcanons

Characters: Xiao, Kaeya, Venti, Albedo, Tartaglia ( + Diluc as Hunter)

Warnings: mentions of blood, blood- drinking, vampires, murder, a form of self harm (Albedo only)

A/N poorly written cause the sudden idea stroke me down and I had to write it before it dies + English isn’t my first language

Xiao

poor boy if he’s a vampire he will only distance himself more

drank human blood in the past

hates himself for it

he would made hell break loose before he gets near an injured human

only interacts with adepti and non human creatures

uses his additional strength to protect the people of liyue

so much guilt for his desire to drink blood

probably hates his creator

would try to kill him

would kill different vampires that abuse their powers to get blood

if he does get romantically involved with you ( through special circumstances) he’d be super careful

he’d never manipulate your memories

but when he does bite you he’d never forgive himself

abandons you to protect you

“You are in danger as long as I’m near”

but will keep an eye on you from the distance

Kaeya

Oh Boy

always makes vague jokes

“It’s not like I bite...hard”

“Walking around this late at night? Someone might think you are just waiting to get eaten”

Only Jean and Varka (+ Diluc) know about his condition

If he’s thirsty he will charm a pretty citizen, make out and even has the audacity to ask if he can take a bite

actually can manage his thirst quite well

of course they say yes

he’d make them forget after

when he takes interest in you he’ll surely follow you around

always teasing and flirting

if he’s confident enough he might just take a bite without deleting your memories

you are friends friends with Diluc? He’d make sure to always warn you about Kaeya

consumes wine like it’s water without getting drunk

Venti

this motherfucker does what he wants <3

drinks human blood even without permission

never kills though

always makes them forget

regularly drinks from his friends without their knowledge

immediately stops when they show any signs of too much blood loss

also a little guilty

but thinks it’s alright as long as no one gets seriously hurt

when you get close to him you realise something is off

he won’t tell you though

cold skin? the winds are always cold and refreshing

when he catches feelings he’ll try to stop drinking for your sake

fails pretty miserable

never drinks from you

unless you wish for it

then he’ll praise your blood and make fun of your weird kinks

doesn’t get too involved with other vampires

technically could survive a few months without drinking blood, but would never try unless you ask him

Albedo

this boy is a genius

created artificial blood to gain control over his thirst

it’s super bitter and yikes

but he’s a good boy and doesn’t drink from humans (...often)

probably experimented on himself

how fast is the regeneration? How many wounds can he heal at the same time?

willing to injure himself to test out

as isolated as he is in the moment

often in his lab

always make sure that Sucrose and Klee won’t notice his experiments or thirst for blood

he won’t meet either of them when he’s thirsty

when he meets you his thirst definitely increases

craves real blood for the first time and drinks three bottles of his artificial one

if you’re not that close, he’d collect blood from you when there’s a possibility

perhaps when you’re injured after a battle

and he tends to your wounds <3

researches the hell out of your blood

no results though

he’s frustrated

will talk a lot to you to figure out if there’s something special in your family history

as soon as you two get romantic he‘ll stop

kinda accepts that there may be no reason at all

he’s unusually touchy with you

when he’s thirsty and you just happen to be there..-

he‘ll make out with you and take a bite

depending on the reaction he‘ll stop

tries to comfort you and explains himself

if you were crying he‘ll curse himself and tell you how sorry he is

Tartaglia

there🌿was✨a🐈cat🐱that🍄really🌳was🐚gone🌬

this handsome fatui doesn’t really care if he kills someone

all the fatui know of his blood thirst

when he’s thirsty he’ll go out at night and search for a prey

mercilessly drinks until he’s full

dead? oops my bad

won’t delete memories if they survive

when he’s on a mission and isn’t allowed to raise attention

he will drink fatui blood

kills only rarely then

also can manage his blood thirst actually quite well

just chooses not to

doesn’t really drink blood after a fight

he thinks his opponents deserve a little more respect

if you two get along quite well, he’ll instantly tell you about his condition

won’t blame you if you leave

is even more fascinated by you if you stay

“so you’re not even a little bit scared? How foolish of you”

starts making a lot of jokes about biting you

“What? You think I won’t do it? Then let me prove you wrong.”

secretly enjoys drinking from you

Diluc

as soon as he learns of vampires he’ll hunt them down

they are a danger to Mondstadt

always investigates people that talk of memory loss

tries to find an effective weapon

(even though burning them to ashes always works)

always carries a notebook where he writes everything down to protect his memories

absolutely loathes vampires

if Kaeya’s also a vampire and he finds out he��ll be angry

angry that he can’t just kill him

although he’s drinking blood

instead kills a lot wild vampires whenever he’s mad at Kaeya or himself

tries to make Kaeya promise that he won’t drink without permission

maybe he accepts because the challenge is intriguing

when he agrees Diluc is more at ease

you two start dating?

He’ll warn you of every vampire suspect that he has

almost tries to forbid you from wandering at night

“I just want to keep you safe”

especially warns you of a certain cavalry captain

you try to convince him to stop?

he’ll think you have been manipulated

always makes sure to know where you are at night

kinda possessive and dislikes this side of him

[bemused-writer]

VNC Mémoire 50 Analysis

This chapter went down very differently from how I'd envisioned. XD My main error was that I forgot that introducing Vanitas into a situation doesn't necessarily improve it and this chapter really drove that home. I got used to "Gévaudan Vanitas" but what we're dealing with is "Bal Masqué Vanitas," someone who is more unhinged than he wants to let on. I mean, I think it's safe to say Vanitas efficiently steered things into a ditch this chapter. Let's take a look as to a possible why and how.

The first thing I want to address is how the transition from Vanitas's attitude in chapter 46 compared to chapter 50 is pretty severe in terms of how he's acting towards Noé and at first seems, uh, completely insane but it's actually pretty consistent with how Vanitas has been in general.

Vanitas: Noé, stop! Don't go near him. Mikhail is--!

His reaction towards Misha actually is pretty consistent all things considered. The very mention of Misha filled him with fear in the catacombs arc and it does so here as well. We also see Vanitas demonstrate he is afraid of what might happen to Noé should he encounter him. And that thread is continued at the very start of this chapter.

We're absolutely dealing with subtleties here, but there are three things I think we can take from this exchange:

1) Vanitas is worried about Noé, but he doesn't want to be too demonstrative about it

2) He's trying very hard to hide the fact Misha unnerves him

3) Misha can read Vanitas easily

That last bit is important. Misha knew Vanitas for a couple years while they traveled with VotBM, so he knows his ticks. In particular, he knows what Vanitas is worried about. "I only made him drink my blood." The implication is that he could have done something worse and he knows Vanitas was worried about that in particular. I think it's safe to say the worse option was that Misha had corrupted Noé's name. With that concern thwarted, Vanitas's main concern regarding Noé has probably already been alleviated, which may explain why the continuation of the conversation is actually pretty calm for a moment.

In the previous two images, Vanitas is panicked or suspicious bordering on angry. In this one we see something closer to compassion and understanding. I think if the conversation had simply remained on the subject of Misha not remembering what happened to VotBM we would have gotten a very different chapter. At the very least, I think Vanitas would have focused on handling Misha in a calmer manner. I don't know if he would have explained things properly, but I think the overall vibe would be different. I think that a loss of memory is something Vanitas would sympathize with considering how protective he is of his own memories and that's probably why we got this surprisingly quiet scene with the two.

Such a thing could not last, however. Misha shook things up by revealing that yes, he thought he was dead, but he was brought back by a kind individual. Furthermore, this kind individual can bring back VotBM, too! As if that isn't enough, he calls Vanitas's entire goal in life, vengeance, silly. It's basically the perfect recipe to make Vanitas go ballistic and it worked immediately.

Okay, so in my last meta I said it's basically confirmed that Vanitas killed VotBM. I think this absolutely confirms he killed her if there was any remaining doubt. Furthermore, he talks about how he's currently working to erase her existence entirely, which is not a small statement. It could be symbolic as he is curing vampires, something she would have hated and likely going against her philosophy in some way. He is "erasing" her existence by defying her values.

He could also mean it very literally. VotBM is blamed for malnomen after all, which is the very thing Vanitas is trying to cure. If she did create malnomen and if she even had something to do with Charlatan then yes, Vanitas is very actively trying to erase her entire existence from this world.

You know, I'm sure this attempt at erasing her could lend itself well to his own self-hatred. If he wants to erase her (literally or metaphorically) then having her mark on him must be torture.

As a side note, we see Vanitas shooting with a gun in this chapter. He doesn't own a gun (weirdly) and as such I think it's likely Dante's. Dante was pretty drunk at the restaurant they were at, so he was in no position to come along, I guess. XD But Vanitas knew he would need extra protection and borrowed it all the same. Still, even Misha comments it's odd for him to use one, which makes me wonder why. Actually, the more I think about it, the stranger it is for Vanitas to go about without a gun. Sure, he has daggers and other skills, but he's in constant danger and some range probably wouldn't hurt.

Regardless, he brought the gun to fight Misha specifically I expect, which means he doesn't want to get close to him. Questions abound as to why. I do not have an actual theory about this one just yet.

At this point in the chapter, I think Vanitas had completely forgotten about Noé until he reinserted himself into the situation. After all, he needs to rescue Dominique and Vanitas is shooting at the person who has complete control over her right this minute. Definitely a recipe for disaster.

Misha gives Noé 15 minutes to find some way to drink Vanitas's blood and reminds him pulling any tricks won't work.

And this is where our communication disaster begins this chapter. Vanitas wants to handle everything on his own without interference. Noé can't allow that because he needs to protect Dominique and, also, Noé is already involved. He can't not be involved at this point no matter what Vanitas wants.

Rather than attempt any kind of sympathetic response or understanding, Vanitas goes right for the throat.

This is around where I think we need to address the elephant in the room: Vanitas and Dominique's relationship with each other. The second they met one another they couldn't stand each other.

This is the first time they really talk to one another and it's a mess. Dominique is understandably suspicious of this random human using her friend to help him cure curse bearers. She even states later on that she thinks he's using Noé for his abilities. As for Vanitas, he's simply being incredibly petty and arguably possessive to boot. He just doesn't like her getting in the way of him and Noé.

Then there's all this:

So, Vanitas knows these two are very close and overheard them as they shared an intimate moment together and even seems to have some kind of opinion on it, though it's hard to say what it is. He first seems surprised, then his expression becomes the neutral, unreadable one above. I kind of think his ultimate opinion about the whole thing is negative judging by his infamous insult to Dominique later on.

Look, Vanitas is a raging misogynist, but I think he takes special issue with Dominique. We can see with Jeanne that he actually does want to help her and holds some measure of affection for her (and now believes himself to be in love with her). He's been utterly neutral to all the other women in the series as well, such as Amelia. But Dominique? There is absolutely no love lost there and all of the above isn't even getting into one of his primary issues with her: she claimed he might worship VotBM.

Of course, Vanitas seems to get most angry when people approach the truth because there's also this scene:

I will admit that it's a little unclear who Vanitas is saying he never really hated in this scene. The official translation went with "Lou" but it could very well be "Lu" the beginning of "Luna" who was confirmed as VotBM in this very chapter, so... He hates VotBM but also loves her. That would seem about in line with the complete mess that is our current Vanitas.

So how does all this tie in with chapter 50? Well, Vanitas has a lot of issues with women, especially relationships with women and most of those likely stem from VotBM with a side dish of his being the cause of his mother's death while constantly being compared to her visually. Furthermore, he really doesn't like Dominique.

With all this in mind, is it any real surprise he refuses to help her? Because it wouldn't be that hard to. He has The Book of Vanitas and he knows what Misha wants. He could either do something to undo Misha's curse on her or he could tell Misha the information he wants to know. Furthermore, he could just make something up to tell Misha! His memories about that day are practically nonexistent after all!

But he doesn't. Some of that is, I'm sure, because he's not thinking very clearly, but some of it is definitely out of spite. Vanitas doesn't like that Noé has an attachment to Dominique. He believes it makes Noé weak. It's why Vanitas can't stand his own interest in Jeanne or Jeanne's attachment to Luca or any relationship in general. He firmly believes attachments make someone weak and I'm sure he believes his own attachment to Noé makes him weak. It's why he must do his very best to stomp it out this chapter. He must deny his own attachment to Noé, remove Noé's attachment to Dominique, and kill Misha to restore his own warped idea of order.

Vanitas is, needless to say, a human disaster.

Even with all this, there are still little glimmers of Vanitas's better side. He seems genuinely shocked and disturbed when he first hears about what happened to Louis, but then Misha continues with how it affected Dominique and he's right back to refuting the whole thing. We also get this interesting tidbit:

Talk about a loaded statement and some insight into how Vanitas views relationships with women! I have very little doubt he's thinking of VotBM right now. He says that by killing Dominique, Noé will be "free" in the way he is. Vanitas saw his relationship with VotBM (whatever kind it may have been) as a weakness and a curse and he cannot fathom that Noé's relationship with Dominique isn't somehow the same. From his perspective, it's just not possible for them to have a genuinely good thing going. He believes Dominique is too protective of Noé and is holding him back and that, clearly, killing her would be doing Noé a favor.

Vanitas's expression here reminds me of a key moment during the catacombs arc:

Here he was angry at Noé for showing compassion to chasseurs and for "holding himself back." He then tells him to get out of his sight (something he also pulled before) and calls him a slur, finally provoking a reaction.

That's not terribly dissimilar to what's happening now. Vanitas is angry at Noé for showing compassion to someone he coudln't care less about, he's "holding himself back" (as well as Vanitas), and Vanitas says the cruelest thing he can, finally provoking a reaction.

Just like in the catacombs, he got a much stronger reaction than he was betting on. I think it both cases, Vanitas was just saying whatever first came to his mind without thinking about repercussions (just like in the Bal Masqué... there's a theme here) and therein lies the second problem he has: he doesn't believe Noé will ever retaliate against him even though he has no real reason to believe that. He sees Noé as kind and mistakenly assumes this translates to him never reacting to Vanitas's cruelty. Probably because it takes a lot to rouse genuine anger out of Noé, but still. That's a serious oversight and potentially a part of that blind spot he always seems to have when it comes to Noé.

As for Noé, first he's having everything he believed about his relationship with Vanitas cruelly denied by the man himself and then Vanitas trashes on the one relationship he's managed to maintain his whole life with Dominique. It's not like Noé was going to simply drink Vanitas's blood either (that much I was right about). He asks Vanitas for his help, begs him to simply tell Misha about that day, and is denied. He confesses that it's "self-centered" but he doesn't want to do what Misha requested. He doesn't want to drink Vanitas's blood to get this answer.

So, Vanitas actually had a lot of opportunity to turn this situation around or at least delay it, but he opted instead to goad Noé until the worst possibility was realized. When Noé lunges for him, he is terrified and immediately lost in his own past where he is told to never let anyone take his memories. Both Noé and Vanitas are having painful memories awakened during this scene, so neither of them is thinking all that clearly. Vanitas is coping with Misha being right there and memories of VotBM and Noé is dealing with his own memories of Louis's death and Dominique's imminent demise. The ghosts of the dead are haunting them both.

These two pages are the most powerful of the chapter in my opinion and my personal favorites. The angling, the mutual betrayal and devastation is very well portrayed. We can see that Noé is shocked that Vanitas shot him. Not only that, but right in the eye, something a chasseur would do to weaken a vampire. We also see that Vanitas is not unaffected by the whole thing. His arm is shaking after shooting the gun and he's flinching away from Noé.

And speaking of the eye injury, I had a theory awhile back that Noé might be partially blind in his left eye due to the injury he sustained as a child. He tends to guard more with his left side and has been consistently injured on his left side as well, which suggests that's the weaker side for him. Now that his left arm is injured and his right eye is also injured, how well will he fare against Vanitas? Especially now that he has the chasseur drug (gifted to him from Dante, I expect). Normally, I would say that in a straight fight, Noé would win without a doubt, but he's been severely hampered for this arc.

Of course, none of this is taking into account the fact Vanitas has The Book of Vanitas. While shooting Noé is far from a great move, it's significantly less destructive than using the book against him and I have to wonder, why didn't he? He easily immobilized Noé during the Bal Masqué with it and if he did something like that here he wouldn't even have to argue with Noé about what should or shouldn't happen next. Noé wouldn't get a say. It's entirely possible Vanitas has simply forgotten he has it but it's also possible that some small part of him is trying to avoid the ultimate betrayal because, despite everything he said, he does care about Noé.

Meanwhile, Misha is delighting in the whole thing. He's convinced Noé will win after all, and then he'll get his answers. Except, as I've said before, Misha hasn't thought this out all that well and he definitely didn't know Vanitas had the chasseur drug. That changes a lot for this battle. Still, Misha isn't entirely uninvolved in this fight. He unleashed a bomb (I think because they got too close to Dominique? or just for fun?) and he did this:

I'm... honestly kind of confused at what I'm looking at here. Did he just turn on the lights? Or did he transform the area? To me, it's a little reminiscent of Charlatan, but they're definitely not here, so I don't know. Regardless, Misha is the one in charge of the arena and Noé only has 15 minutes to accomplish his goal.

The time limit is going to be the main problem here. I foresee these two fighting to a standstill unless Vanitas brings out the book. Then there's Dominique. She's watching all of this in silent horror. Vanitas and Noé aren't likely to stop without outside intervention. What I'd like to see happen is Dominique reestablishing power over herself and getting them to stop, but I'm worried she'll take the more dramatic route of flinging herself off the building. After all, she's dealing with a serious load of self-loathing herself and she might think she's taking away Noé's friend by being taken. I'm still holding hope for Dominique to come out of this alive, but her fate is the one thing I'm genuinely concerned about in this arc because while things are bad for Vanitas and Noé, narratively they have to eventually come back together. That's the premise of the series. There may be a bucket load of trust issues and all kinds of difficulties--they may avoid each other this whole arc--but they have to eventually work together again.

Dominique does not have that same kind of plot armor. Her fate is tied directly to whatever Mochizuki thinks is most effective for Noé's plot and, well, I guess we'll see what that is.

As for who Misha is working for, there are a couple of possibilities. My first thought was Moreau to be completely honest, but Misha does have memories of him, so it's unlikely he'd ever refer to him as "kind," so I'm going to strike that option off the list. Teacher is a vague possibility, but I also think it unlikely. He wants to observe the events around the book, not create his own. Ruthven was another likely source, but if it is him I think it's indirectly through his connection to Charlatan. He doesn't want Noé to potentially die to Vanitas after all; he has future uses for him. He also doesn't seem to have that much interest in VotBM.

So, after crossing off most of the options, I think we're left with Charlatan (who isn't really a person, so probably a no on that too) and, weirdly, Marquis Machina. Oh, and possibly the de Sades, but while they dislike Dominique, I don't think they'd expend this kind of effort. It would look bad for the family. Now, we know basically nothing about Machina, which makes him a great option because we do know he's a major player somehow but not precisely how. I guess time will tell on that one.

As for other general predictions, I think Noé and Vanitas will fight to a standstill like I said before. Their battle will probably be interrupted by something, whether that's an action taken by Dominique or a third party arriving. Misha will definitely get away regardless of which it is. Whether Noé is willing to work with Vanitas will depend on what happens to Dominique and whether Vanitas will work with Noé depends on how capable he is of just... pretending the whole thing didn't happen and whatever Noé says to him. For the most part, Vanitas has stuck with Noé because of the way Noé has spoken to him, and that's likely to remain the same. Probably. Noé wants to save curse bearers, so as long as Dominique is okay he'll probably also shove the whole thing aside in favor of doing just that. But at some point they will both have to confront that things got ugly very fast and that this is in no small part to the secrets they kept from one another and the biases Vanitas keeps.

Waiting for the next chapter is going to be hard. XD I'm personally very excited about how things are going. They're not what I guessed, but they are super interesting and will really have an impact on the series, so I'm definitely here for it.

[carolmaximoffs]

teacher’s pet

summary: ransom gets a tutor per his parents meddling, lest his family pull all financial support. 

pairings: college! ransom drysdale x virgin! reader

warnings: cussing, dirty talk, sort-of public sex (fingering... in a library...i’m sorry), reference to drinking, brief brief mention of hookup! (not w reader), loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving) uhh it’s filth alright it’s innocent reader and ransom drysdale what did you expect

UNPROTECTED SEX BUT THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION SO PLEASE WRAP IT UP

a/n: per request by someone who’s no longer on tumblr, but i wanted to finish SOMETHING in my drafts. (i started this in...gosh, august? it’s way overdue)

You’ve got to be kidding me, is the first thought to bounce across Ransom’s brain when he walks into the library that evening in January. It’s practically deserted, except for one occupant of a back table. You’re huddled over laptop, doesn’t even notice him walk in. He studies you from the doorway for a moment.

His second thought is, she’s kind of cute. He pushes that far, far away and all but stomps over to the table. You look up with a start when he clears his throat, sliding out the chair across from you and dropping his bag unceremoniously onto the table.

“Lets get this straight,” Ransom declares, folding his hands together into one fist and tucking them under his chin. It’s a move his mother had pulled in many ‘I’m-not-trying-to-control-your-life-but’ conversations. She usually paired it with an exasperated and slightly pouty look meant to guilt him into seeing things her way. He pairs it with a glower. “I don’t need a tutor, I don’t want a tutor, and quite frankly, I don’t even want to be taking this fuckin’ course. However slash comma, I need this course, so I can get the degree, build some shit from the ground up like everybody else, blah, blah, blah. So. Let’s get started.”

The girl across from him just blinks for a second. Maybe he did come off a little harsh, but he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You blink for a little longer, like you’re confused. Ransom is just about to ask if you’re deaf when you speak up. “O-okay. Right. So, I spoke to your mother-“

“Fucking fantastic.” You glare.

“I talked to your mother and she-“

“Wait a sec,” Ransom interjects for a second time. Your eyes get wide, like you’re about to lunge across the table and strangle him. “What’s your name, sugar-tits?”

You pull a face at him, somewhere between murderous and disgusted. “Y/N. Can you please stop interrupting me?”

Ransom only smiles, and you continue. His mother had emailed you in depth, evidently. Told you all about how he failed last semester, desperately needs the credit, et cetera, et cetera. Great. It sounds almost rehearsed, though, not as nervous nor hesitant as everything you say after. He gets the feeling you don’t quite know what to make of him, yet, and he intends to keep it that way.

—————————

Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

Ransom sweeps his arm out wildly; he hears the thunk of his water bottle and the rattle of the aspirin bottle he’d preemptively put out as they hit the floor.

Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

Finally, he manages to grasp his phone, the source of the wretched noise. Christ, his head is pounding, but he swipes to answer the call without even looking. He blinks through his migraine in the gold evening light as he croaks out a hello.

“Where the fuck are you, Hugh?”

He looks at the clock - right, right. Ransom forces a laugh through his dry throat. You’re pissed, and rightfully so. “Ransom, please, princess-“

“Don’t ‘princess’ me, prick. This is the third time this week. I’ve been at the library for thirty fucking minutes!” You hate him, hate him, hate him, but it’s been a handful of weeks now, and you know he’s positively beaming on the other end of the line. “I talked to Marcus-“

“Sweetheart,” He tries again, reaching for his water,  “Marcus? C’mon, what’d I say about talking to my friends-“

“And what did I say about getting drunk off your ass the night before we’re ‘sposed to meet up? Ransom,” And you’re so angry your voice shakes and blurs with it, with the disappointment, and oh, that shouldn’t make him stir. “Seriously. Get your ass down here. I’m not letting Linda fucking Drysdale down.”

Ah yes, Little Miss Perfect, Future Miss CEO who idolizes his mother. There’s a little click as you hang up, and Ransom chuckles to himself as he takes a swig of water. He’s really considering meeting you, too; he’s just about to slither out of bed, throw on some clothes, grab his textbook. Then his latest conquest sits up beside him and stretches tanned arms, shaking long curls from her shoulders.

“Hope that wasn’t your girlfriend. I was really hoping for a round 3.”

And hell, who is he to deny a lady? (An asshole, and a liar, and an unreliable piece of expletive along with a few other colorful insults, according to the myriad of texts from Y/N. He puts his phone on silent.)

—————————

“I’m not shocked you failed this chapter twice in a row,” Your murmur as you trace your finger under the header “Strategic Differentiation is Key: Listening to and Working with Others”. It’s late spring, the library a little more crowded as more students brave the trek across campus. He sits beside you, instead of across from you, now, thigh to thigh. “You only talk to people if it benefits you. Actually, strategic differentiation is beneficial, so I guess I am a little shocked.”

“I never wanted to be a businessman,” Ransom shrugs, leaning his chair back on two legs. Your brows furrow, and you set your pen down hesitantly, like you know they’re broaching a tedious moment. The sort of thing that doesn’t occur often - Hugh Ransom Drysdale, being vulnerable. You’re quiet, though, and he finds himself continuing.

“I wanted to be a writer like my grandpa,” He admits softly, and he doesn’t know what’s made him say it - did he hit his head in his sleep last night? - but it’s out there. It hangs between them heavily. Your fingers curl around the edges of the textbook they’re sharing.

“I...That’s really sweet, Ransom,” You murmur finally in that stupid, adorable, fucking annoyingly soft way of yours. “Really sweet.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Ransom scoffs. He shrugs it off, like everything else, shifting and slinging an arm over the back of your chair. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

“I-What?”

“You heard me. I told you something, you tell me something. Call it leveling the playing field. An eye for an eye.”

“‘An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind’,” You mutter uncertainly. You remain silent for a beat too long afterwards. Ransom leans his weight on his forearms on the table, ducking his head to speak in your ear.

“C’mon, what are you? A virgin?” He laughs at his own clever jab, but when he sits up, you still aren’t answering, face mortified. Ransom gasps exaggeratedly, grinning wickedly at his own fortune. “You are. Holy fuck. You’re a goddamn virgin.”

“Not so loud!” You hiss, slapping at his arm. You want to puke right into his stupid lap. Not that there was anything wrong with being a virgin, but hearing him say it like that... Damn him, you think, and then you huff, “Damn you.”

“Aw it’s okay, princess,” Ransom coos, and he’s mocking you, you know he’s mocking you, but something sparks in your stomach. He pinches your cheek in the way old ladies do to small children. “Nothing to be ashamed about. Not like you’re a junior in college and perfectly pretty enough to find yourself a hookup. What’s the hold-up, sugar?”

She presses her thighs together. Ransom pretends not to notice, still intent on an answer. Consumed with a combination of embarrassment and need (though mostly the former), she shrugs. “Just...waiting for the right guy, I guess.”

Ransom snorts, as if to tell her “that’s a waste of time”, or maybe because they both know it’s bullshit. But he utters nothing more on the subject, and instead picks up his pen. 

“So, I think this is what tripped me up here...” 

She can’t focus on his question. His free hand is tracing funny little patterns on her knee. 

—————————

“Ransom....” 

“Shhh,” He huddles closer to her, hushing her wary pleas. They’re at a different table, today, further in the back. He’s got a hand slipping up beneath her skirt. “Just trust me, princess. Keep on teaching me, while I teach you.”

And she does; her voice trembles, be it with nerves or need, as he dips his fingers beneath her panties. Ransom traces over her clit, teasingly, just to hear her stumble over the sentence she’s trying to explain to him. Fuck Management Skills - he was managing just fine, if he did say so himself. He prods at her entrance, gathering her slick on his finger tips, before sliding one slick digit in to the hilt. She makes a sound somewhere between gasping and choking. Ransom grins uncontrollably, ducking his head into her neck.

“So wet for me already, princess,” He whispers, a second finger joining the first. She bites her lip as he teases a third, so soon. “Come on. Focus.”

“Ransom, I can’t,” She half-whines, pages crinkling as she grips the textbook desperately. She squirms, but he’s unrelenting. “Please, we’re gonna get caught...”

“Not if you stay quiet,” Ransom replies gruffly. He experiments, just a little; they’d been making out before, after, during their sessions for a couple of weeks now. Each time, he grew bolder. Ransom hooks his fingers one instance - pumps them rapidly the next. When she’s come apart all over his hand, receiving a pinch to her oversensitive clit just to see her flinch, your lip is bleeding from biting so hard.

Ransom hasn’t learned shit about delegation, but he knows now how to make her cum.

_______________________

You’ve never been to Ransom’s before; of course, he’d swung a small apartment just on the edge of campus. Your skin trembles even as you try to steel yourself. You know Ransom hadn’t asked to relocate your tutoring session because he was tired. The two of you had practically finished the course, anyway, and he really was grasping it without your guidance at this point. You weren’t naïve; he wanted privacy.

Your suspicions are proved right as soon as you step inside. The moment you’ve toed off your shoes, he’s sweeping you into a heavy kiss, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of your neck. His thumb presses into your throat; just pressure, nothing serious, but you still squeak. Ransom all but growls, free arm hooking about your hips.

“Jump, honey,” He says into your mouth, and you do, legs tight about his waist. He carries you through the apartment without a hitch; you knew there was some beef hiding beneath all those damn sweaters. You’re dropped a little carelessly onto what is unmistakably his bed; of course the bastard’s got silk sheets. Ransom tosses his shirt somewhere behind him, sliding cold fingers beneath your shirt. “This alright?”

And you half think it’s sweet of him to ask, but you also know his mother, and would frankly be surprised if he didn’t ask. Embarrassment and, honestly  dignity out the window, you arch into his touch. “Please.” 

Ransom makes quick work of your pants and undergarments; he’s still clad in sweatpants that probably cost more than you want to imagine as you lay naked before him. He looks more like a predator than ever, expression absolutely ravenous as he levels his face with your dripping center.

“Oh, I’ve never-” You stutter, face burning as he looks up at you as if bored with your voice. When Ransom speaks next, his breath has goosebumps crackling down your thighs.

“I know, baby. Just let me take care of you, hmm?” And all you’re capable of is a rigid nod before you’re throwing your head back as his tongue traces figure eights on your clit. 

“Fuck!” You cry, and he hums something akin to a laugh into your core. His thumbs spread you open further as his tongue laps at your impossibly wet entrance; when he sucks at your clit, you almost scream. Ransom, still teaching himself your ins and outs, reaches up to tweak a nipple, and you thrash. That’s when he sits up.

“Was so...close...” You pant, bringing your chin to your chest with more effort than should be necessary. His weight has left the bed; he’d stood to rid himself of his pants, unsurprisingly having gone commando. You’re gifted with the glorious sight of his impossibly thick thighs as Ransom smirks, pumping his thick, leaking member lazily.

“When you cum today, baby, it’ll be on my cock,” The blond promises darkly as he clambers back onto the bed. His bulbous tip slides up and down between your glistening folds, and he groans, basking and unashamed in his own arousal. “And only...gah, fuck....only on my cock.”

You whimper in response as he pushes right in to the hilt. He wiggles his hips, swivels a bit; you’re unsure of whether it’s to fuck with you or make sure he’s snug within your throbbing heat, but you moan none the less. Ransom takes this as the okay to begin thrusting, and any discomfort quickly dissipates as he thumbs at your clit in tight circles. For the first time since you’d met him, there’s not an ounce of snark or irritation; he swings a knee over one arm, managing to angle up against your sweet spot each time, and your hands scrabble for purchase on his shoulders. 

“Ransom...fuck, Ransom, please, I-” You whine as he pushes your knee toward your chest, pounding you ever harder in juxtaposition with his soft shushing.

“I know, princess, I got you,” Ransom grunts, forehead sweat-slick as he presses his face into your neck. He nips, just barely, breath coming hard and heavy. “Just let go, baby, right there with you, c’mon...” 

With a cry that has Ransom clapping a hand over your lips, you cum, legs practically vibrating as you thrash with the force of it. Ransom’s hand doesn’t leave your clit until you’re nearly sobbing from the overstimulation; just like he’d promised, moments after your own orgasm, he slips out of your channel. You can’t truly identify the feeling swirling in your gut as he spills his seed across your torso, nor as he trails two fingers through it and brings it to your lips.

“Hey,” Ransom heaves after a heavy silence, the both of you still naked with his fingers still being laved by your tongue. “Did I ever tell you about my A in Management? Grade went up like, two weeks ago. I told you that, right?”

You bite down on his fingers in reply.

[imfartooobsessedwithkpop]

From age 9-15 i was sexually abused by my brother. I was bullied from a very Young age about my weight, I remember lying about my weight because I was so embarrassed, id compare myslef to my friends, i hated going out to eat. I remeber looking at my thighs and stomach at age 11 as a guy says "youre definitely heavier than me" (i definitely was not. This kid was obsese for a child, i certainly wasnt) but i thought "wow you really look like that?"

At age 12, I started to walk everywhere without a jacket because "being in the cold burns fat" I wasn't restricting, but I was very self continous and wary of myself, on busses I'd get upset that my legs spead, I'd skip breakfast, and started to not take lunches into school and just keep my lunch money when I got it.

I used to be a hard worker in school until about half way through year 9, i joined cadets and was groomed by a nco, who was 19, i was taken advantage of, and i blame myself for it to this day because i was "mature for my age" at 14. This went on till i was 15, I kinda stopped. Idk if it was cause by that event or just that I learned the art of cheating lol but I was also just too distressed to learn anything and I felt guilty and useless for not being able to retain the information, so that's why I started cheating to keep up my "good student" title because I was a very smart person before that event, when I moved to England I was ahead of all my classes but then I just..wasn't:( at 14 that's when my eating disorder took off. I was restricting my food intake to 1200 cals, following all the influencer and weight loss advice. Apple cinder vinegar and superfoods, no chocolate, no sugar no carbs, military diets, binging and then throwing up my food, I was hinding it in bags in my room, I'd be in pain, I'd have nose bleeds from how long I was purging, the blood vessels around my eyes and neck would pop. Then I got into kpop at 15.i started doing hour long dance workouts on top of my regular workout. I started to do the idol diets which got so much worse as I got tickets to a BTS concert and was determined to be "skinny". Brain fog was a serious issue, I'd get dizzy constantly. In 2020 I went to chams but was turned away to "focus on the court case" and was refferd back to my doctor, I saw this as "I don't believe you, you're faking it" even though I was eating 500 cals a day, and if I wanted to eat a pack of noodles I'd kill myslef working out. My family wants a Chinese? Oh well I'm gonna go on a 2hr run after it, and while I'm waiting for it to come I'll do some workouts in my room to make up for it. I felt so betrayed. Court was not my biggest issue. My eating disorder and self esteem was. It controls everything.

Half way through year 9, into year 10 I started smoking occasionally with my friend (weed and tobacco) which definitely didn't help My memory, this is when my ed was getting bad aswell. I started drinking pretty heavily, going into school drunk, I'd take a shot of whiskey before I left for "good luck" and I binge drink with my friends which is sort of normal, but then I started doing it by myself. I liked it, until it caused another event which effected the next 3 years of my life going to court. When I drank it would make me cut deeper because I couldn't feel it, which lead to me drinking more, just so I could do that. In year 11 i got my work ethic back, towards my gcses i started to work so hard, i stopped cheating, i was gaining my knowlege, and the grades i had were my honest grades, then covid happend and i didnt sit my gcses which started the previous attitude again. Even after the even I continued to drink when things went wrong, in that time I had 2 suicide attempts, 1 of which I was in hospital for. that was 2020 Nov. Around this time, before the attempt I had started to try other substances such as mdma. This made me miss out on a lot of college, mixed with covid I lost all work ethics, I honestly didn't care so I dropped out.

In april 2021 I got vocal lessons, music was my passion, from a young age I sung in church I was super outgoing, singing in my mums bar etc, but I was struggling alot with my self confidence so I done this to help. After an episode and a fight with my mom, she told me to stop wasting my teachers time (I hadn't attended a few times and was going deeper into my hole) I didn't need to hear that, because I didn't want to do that deep down, but I wasn't thinking. I was in my " you're a failure, you'd never succeed anyway" so I stopped seeing her, even though she tried to get me to stay (she was so lovely) I ghosted all of her messages (I did say why I was leaving but she still tried to get me to stay) even though she could have changed my life and my confidence. Self sabotage at its finest.

That summer I was drinking and partying, smoking and doing pills.

I decided it was enough, stopped drinking although i continued to smoke, and gave college abother go, this time in something I was so exited for, instead of a levels, I chose a music course. The start of the year was so good I went in everyday and paid attention. Then here came the lack of self confidence when we had a concert. But I powered though. I had tried Crystal MDMA before but on bonfire night 2022 I took it too far which kickstarted my 2 month crystal addiction though Nov to the start of Jan. In these times I was mixing at least 5-7 drugs together, I was on crystal for 5days at a time, even doing lines in college. I can't blame my addiction on anyone, my ex boyfriend fueld I though, his dealer was now my dealer and when I wanted it, I just needed to ask my partner. Surprise surprise this relationship was toxic as fuck and he was a narcissist. This made me miss college a lot, and when it was time to do a concert I messed up and had a panic attack, which brought in everything I had ever felt about myself, all the self doubt crept in again taking over my thoughts so I no longer wanted to go in. What sort of music artist can make a career with themselves if they always have panic attacks, anxiety attacks, voice cracks on stage, cries on stage. A lot actually. Most musicians go through that. But to me it was the end of everything. I stopped crystal In Jan 2022, but then started doing shittonnes of pills, punishers, trains, fires you name it, 7-9 pills in 1 night, 3 day benders with pills and acid so the addiction never really stopped. I hesitate to call it an addiction because i didnt do it everyday, i took breaks of 5 days inbtween (only sometimes) what addic does that? Once again, a lot do actually. That doesnt invaliate you. At the end of march it started to calm down, i done them less and less often usually only smoking. April 2022 I broke up with my ex, followed by another suicide attempt on my birthday. I felt forgotten and unimportant. I've always felt like an imposter, but from March to present it's gotten so much worse. I then I completely stopped all drugs besides weed for a good 2 months, the first month being fully clean the second I had lapes of 1 day, and would be taking mushrooms mostly, or 4 pills. Still a lot less than before so I took it as a win. although the thoughts to fuck my life up again are strong, im going to liverpool on friday. I am strongly resisting the urge to do DMT again, im already going no where in life why not fuck it up more? But im resisting. I was occasionally getting bursts of energy to fix my life. Did that go well? No.

My attendance in college is 50. And I'm passing my course. I have 1 assignment to give in and then I'm done!! Yay? No. I can't leave my house because my outfit isn't right or I bunged the night before and now I'm throwing a tantrum like a 7 year old. I'm hitting myself, screaming and crying because I don't want to go because I'm so scared of people looking at me. I dropped out of a convert that's is meant to be tomorrow because " ill just embarrassed myself" even though I wanted to do it so bad, and was so exited talking to my classmates about it. Now I haven't been in for a week because I'm so upset at myslef and if I hear them talking about it, I'll break down because I want that to be me. I don't think I can even go support them because I'm a jealous and selfish bitch. I want to be the one performing why are they?? Why do j have to suffer, why aren't they???? They are. There is a girl just as anxitious as I am. She's still doing it, so why aren't you, why did you stop yourself?

We finish college next week. If I just handed in the 1 assignment I'd be fine, and go onto the second year. But I hate everything I create, I hate the sound of my own voice. When I go to write, my mind goes blanc. People will actually have to listen to me? No thank you, their ears will bleed. They'll laugh at me. I'm such a cringe person. I can't write lyrics, I can't create a beat. I can't play any instruments. I'm useless.

What happend to the little girl who wanted to be a star. Who learned 3 languages by herself. Who wanted to learn every language in the world. Who self taught herself piano, who self taught herself dance, who was so passionate about the things she loves nobody could stop her. She always hated herself but she always got through it. What happend to the little girl who went through so much but still managed to get a lance corporal rank in cadets, who cried one year when she didn't get it because she worked so hard.

What happend to the little girl who wanted to fall In love, designed her wedding cake, but now is too afraid to leave her house, who is scared of olive oil.

I'm recovering slowly I guess. I can put sugar in my tea, and use oil while cooking. I still measure everything. Everything is number's. And as long as I stay under my cal goal i can eat what I want. I'm still terrified of restaurants, if I can't see the calories I have a panic attack. But I can put sugar in my tea. And I don't restrict to 500 cals.

I don't do drugs as often. Although I feel a relapse coming :(

I don't cut everyday, I've moved to other self harm that's less noticeable. But at least I don't cut right?

I'm behind everyone, I'm behind in life I should be going to uni this year. ..I can't even finish 2 years at college.

I wish everyone would understand I'm not lazy. There is a lot going on behind the scene. I don't sleep well because I'm paranoid and supersituous. I get night terrors and sleep paralysis. So I miss college to sleep. I'll get up.in the morning, my makeup doesn't look right. All my clothes make me look fat. Or I've had a panic attack and am now a vegetable for the day because I'm so emotionally drained. Or my voice is bad, I can't sing there's no point going in. Or " I'm gonna kill myself anyway, why should I go in"

I've been saying that for the past 6 years. I don't know what to do with myself.

On top of this, I feel like I'm faking everything. It's an extreme feeling. I search a lot of things online. What if I'm just copying those articles. Even though I've only recently started to research mental illness to try and figure out what I am. Why I'm like the way I am. I still felt all these emotions at 15. But what if? What if this is an extreme case. But I can't fake my trauma. It happend, so I must not be faking it right? AH but maybe I'm making it our worse to people than it is, oh well then you're probably faking it. But you're not AHHHHHHHHH SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

My brain is noise constantly, nothing shuts up, it's like a record player but a broken one, it cuts up songs and glitches them, whe 7 other conversations and thoughts happen.

I'm just exhausted.

I sit in my room and rot. I do exercise to feed my eating disorder that's it. I have paint and crochet but I don't want to do them, because what of I do it badly and then I fall down the hole of " you can't do anything right" and make myself even worse. But I'm making myself worse by not doing the things I love.

I'm so horrendously self aware it hurts. It's litterally painful.

I know my actions, how they effect me and others, but I can never stop them. I have blackout moments of rage. Over stupid things, I know this, but why everytime, can I not stop them? Why can't I calm myslef down, why does it happen again and again if I know I get hurt. Again and again when I know my parents are fed up of calming me down.

I'm on a waiting list but I don't know when I'll get help. I can't help myself I always fail at it, I need someone to MAKE me help myself.

Sigh, I just want that good little girl back. I want her to heal her own wounds first.

There is so much in this post, yet there is still so much to say so.much I haven't talked about. I'm just confused, scared no terrified of this world that I'm just paralysed in my own misery

[writernotwaiting]

Loki Meta Nobody Asked For, part 3--All MCU Lokis are AU fan fiction Lokis

There is so much in part 3 that I really wanted to see and I very much want to celebrate, but once again, I am conflicted.

Ok. Good things: Loki and his magic. Loki and fighting. Loki and improvisation. Loki as bisexual. Loki talking about his mother. Loki showing a moral compass.

All of these are Most Excellent Things: • Loki here is finally not a de-powered pushover. His illusions are effective. He teleports over a short distance. He resists Sylvie’s mind control. He stops a multi-ton support tower from falling and pushes it back up into place!!!! • He fights effectively--finally! Granted, his dagger misses its mark, but he was drunk, so I’ll give him a pass on that. Aside from that, he finally shows us some highly effective hand-to-hand combat skills. Thankyouverymuch for acknowledging that Loki survived a millennia of life in a warrior culture. He was raised by a warrior king. His brother is a Hero(tm). There’s no way he didn’t learn some skillz. His ineffective fighting in episode 2 can easily be attributed to the fact that he was pulling his punches when he was fighting the human shields Silvie possessed. • Loki’s character explicitly acknowledged their queerness!!!! This makes my little queer heart glow bright, and I think needs no more comment. Just . . . yesssss! • Loki loves his mom. Loki is conflicted about that relationship because They Lied To Him.  And did I mention that Loki speaks wistfully about his mother and a bit about the fact he was adopted and no one told him until he already pretty much found out (in the most awkward way ever). Even Sylvie thought that was pretty poor parenting. Good stuff. • Loki really doesn’t want to kill innocent bystanders and only attacks folks who attack him first. He is also kind of appalled to hear that the TVA workers are all variants who’ve had their minds wiped. Again, this is all excellent, and fits well with the Loki we met in Thor I who just really wanted to make sure his war-mongering brother didn’t sit on the throne until he grew up a bit, and then Everything Got Way Out of Control. • We see Smart!Loki in action, as opposed to hear Mobius flatter Loki to get him to cooperate. While one of Loki’s attempts at deception fails miserably, the other works (with Sylvie’s help). This is all excellent and made me Very Happy Indeed!

[more below the break]

I also very much liked many parts of his interactions with Sylvie, and the fact that we got a tiny bit of her backstory (and I love her insistence on her own identity--this is very much I think a Loki thing, “I am not you. I am my own thing, thank you very much”). This relationship has a great deal of potential for complexity and depth. I am totally here for enemies to frenemies to allies if that’s where the series is going.

I like the reveal that the TVA agents are all variants themselves who have been “wiped” and indoctrinated. We are finally getting more obvious hints at the insidiousness of the TVA.

So why am I still conflicted about the series? Well, here is what I did not like: • Loki’s improvisation with the old woman--he had too little information to pull off an effective scam like that and he would have known that. He had a photograph. A black and white photograph--no voice, no personality, no coloration, no body language; he didn’t even know if the picture really was one of a husband and not some other type of relation. There was no way it would ever work. He should have known that. Loki would have known that. • His voice and body language when he pretended to be a guard was stupid and unconvincing, not mimicry. That was a joke. • The getting drunk thing. I found this not only disappointing but insulting and also possibly lazy on the part of the writers. It felt completely out of character. In fact, Sylvie felt much more “Loki-ish” in this scene than Loki did. I just cannot in any universe see Loki doing anything like this under these conditions. They are undercover in a high-pressure situation in which they are about to be wiped out of existence if they fuck things up, and Loki decides to get drunk? No. This is a virtually suicidal loss of control. They have no idea how long they would be on that train or what they would have to deal with later. They have no idea what sort of security is in place on the train. Why did they even stop in a bar, of all places? Why not find a sleeper car and stay out of the way? For that matter, why not just find seats? Why would a guard be sitting in a booth at a bar with a prisoner? They wouldn’t. Loki’s sense of self-preservation is stronger than that. He’s smarter than that. It was stupid and out of character and also unnecessary--there are so many other ways they could have gotten them shoved off that train that did not involve Loki making a spectacle of himself. It was, in fact, a very Thor thing to do, not Loki-like at all. • I still feel as though Tom is over-emoting in all of the scenes that are less than life-or-death. It does not feel like the Loki I met in Thor I and The Avengers. That Loki had a length of re-bar up his spine and only genuinely smiled when he looked at Thor (when Thor was smiling).

I feel like Tom is playing two Lokis in the show--the one that fights his way out of tight spots and occasionally deals with his difficult family issues, and the other is a parody of mischief!Loki--whose face is extremely emotive and who wants to bare his soul to whomever looks vaguely as though they’ll listen to him.

So, here’s my mid-series conclusion. All MCU Lokis are fan fiction Loki’s of the comics. Among those MCu fan fics are three distinct AUs.

1. The Loki we meet in Thor I, The Avengers, and Thor II. This Loki works hard to bury his emotions. His body language is generally stiff and prickly. He is the product of growing up in a culture that is driven by a toxic masculinity and devalues those traits that are coded “feminine” such as all of those things Loki excels at. Because of this, he has gotten the message his entire life that he is with less that the Golden Child that is Thor. He loves his brother with all his soul but resents him because his father placed them in competition with one another. All of this was reinforced by growing as the “tag-along” little brother who was tolerated but not embraced by Thor’s closest friends. This Loki becomes self-destructive and suicidal, experiencing a psychotic break as a result of revelations about his adoption and internalized racism. He spends who-knows-how-long falling through the void enduring perhaps months of sensory deprivation only to be tortured and manipulated by Thanos. He emerges from that experience Truly Fucked Up, stopped of much of his power because he’s had the living shit kicked out of him. But his core self is still there somewhere--a core self that loves his brother, that craves affection, that really hates what Asgard has done to him but still has a moral compass in there somewhere that says wiping out the entire universe is a bad thing and I guess protecting helps humans is something he ought to do since his brother loves them.

2. The Loki we meet in Ragnarok and IW. This isn’t really the same guy as Loki #1. It’s a fan fiction AU in which Loki has no trauma to deal with. He is a manipulator. But he is a manipulator because he is a survivor. He does what he has to do in order to be not dead, and if he can also have some luxury while he does it, well, that’s a bonus. Theoretically, he is a powerful mage--since he was able to overcome Odin and place him in a nursing home--but we don’t see any of that on screen. He is revered Mostly Harmless by the narrative. There is no re-bar up his ass. His body language is much more loose and emotive. His characterization has been flattened out in order to serve as a narrative foil for Thor, and will be bridged in IW to serve Thor’s character development (yet another feminization of his character). Many people really enjoyed this version of Loki. But let’s be clear, he isn’t the same Loki we met in the other three movies.

3. The TVA Loki. This Loki is a new fan fiction. A third AU. This Loki is slightly closer to Loki #1 in that his characterization is a bit more complex than Loki #2. He is smarter. He is more versatile and powerful. He has a backstory that isn’t being mocked. His queerness is not being used to villain-code him. But it would be wrong to say he’s the same Loki that we saw in the first three movies. This Loki’s trauma is all family-related, which great, at least they acknowledge that.

However, he clearly is not the PTSD!Loki that we see in TDW. They have decided (at least so far) to completely ignore what happens between Thor I and The Avengers. I’m not quite sure why it’s ok to deal with trauma when it’s Bucky Barnes and Tony Stark, but not ok when it’s Loki, but this is the decision the director made, and if I want to enjoy the show, I have to be ok with that. So that’s what I’m going to do right now. The Loki show is fan fiction. It’s an AU. And it does a pretty good job at doing that.

[blacksupremacy86]

A Titans Loss Of Power

Part 1 - 3

This overtly muscular, masculine and super well built bodybuilder walks in to my club.

He is strutting out of control breaking the ground spinning out of control.

I can see him giving me the usual evil stare at me, you know the one that says I am at war.

You are better than me, and I am completely at a disadvantage because of my muscles.

He pulls out the bar still propping on to the seat, and swirls to face me.

He pounds his fist on the bar still with such excitement.

“Well where is the service already?”

“Can I help you with something sir?”

“Yes give me a gigantic glass of beer”

“Keep it coming”

“Sure, whatever”

“Don’t be fucking right “

He shakes his head in disagreement of my service not up to snuff.

I keep filling up his beer glass smacking him it hard.

He stares at me, truthfully today is not one of those good days.

One of my drunk patrons tries to go in to a racist rant.

Another one is a Asian patron staring at me wishing out moving and tries to take a pic of me.

Today is the last day I decide to be nice this bar will be one to be remade.

Part 4 - 6

“Don’t move from the stall you are drunk ass”

“Lean on the table for me, showcase for me”

“You maybe one shift fuck asshole”

“I am still impressed by you”

“You are kind of cute “

“When you are under my thrall”

I decide to help myself to this great idea of mine, and I jump off the bar.

Landing on my feet snapping my finger and run to the table.

Stomping my feet on the table causing a riot among the crowd.

I smash a glass on the floor wrecking the noise in the bar.

“The bar is closing early”

“Get the fuck out”

“Charming they do listen”

“The tab is free, he is paying “

“Wow! What a bunch of fuckers”

“I hate people, so idiotic”

“Why can’t people behave?”

“Why can’t people be better?”

Part 7 - 9

“What’s your name bud?”

“It’s John Cena”

“You are a pussy bitch”

“I am a pussy bitch”

“Mwahahahahaha”

“Good boi”

I stand tall heights below him staring up to my subject, and think.

“What do you think of me?”

“Your weird, I don’t know you, but I sense you are evil.”

“Fuck you”

“You don’t even know me”

I roll my eyes the anger rising so I punch him in the gut, and kick him in the nuts.

“Will you a serve me for all time if I claim you?”

“Answer me fully, give me all of this.”

“I love you, with all of my life”

“You are drunk off of me, you can never be sober from me, and sink away.”

“I love you sire”

“Address me as Master Lawrence “

The end