#i'm just enforcing his rules
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Viren is the one that imprisoned your cool husband Runaan in a coin. He also tortured him too in the dungeon.
Moon bless and keep him... far away from me. I do try to leave the bloodletting to my dear husband!
#ask ethari#i'm a craftsman but#nobody puts their hands on my husband but me#he's very particular about that you see#i'm just enforcing his rules#like any good spouse would i'm sure#brb building a devirenator
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if you are close to adam (esp romantically) you will be preening him at some point. no ifs, ands, or buts about it!
#-ˏˋ ━━━ ( out of character. )#I don't make the Rules. I just enforce them.#His wings are gorgeous and he deserves to have someone comb their fingers through them hehe. 😇#I'm writing smth for June involving it rn and It's cute as hell RIP.#When people he isn't close to try to touch them his feathers flare and he gets Pissy™️. Bc he cares a lot about his wings.#But if U are close it's free real estate. It's one of the few things that can relax and fluster him and I love it sm.#He's also surprisingly good at grooming others' wings. He gets really into it and it's cute lol
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@notyetfixed from here
Alistair had tried to keep Meredith from noticing his pain. The last darkspawn had gotten a good shot on his ribs, making standing up straight and breathing just a little bit painful.
At least it was only a bruise. Probably.
But Meredith was, of course, sharp as ever. She'd noticed the wince as he'd straightened up and hurried over. He tried to put on a happy smile for her, but it was difficult with the throbbing pain on his side.
"Can't get anything past you, can I?" he asked with amusement, taking the health potion offered to him, trying not to think about the way her gaze made his insides do flip flops. He gulped it down, sighing in relief as it dulled the ache. "Maker's breath that's better. Thanks, Mer."
#notyetfixed#Alistair Theirin: da origins#//feel free to ignore this I'm trying to get a feel for his voice XD#also Alistair is just in love with all wardens a little bit I don't make the rules I just enforce them#queue
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☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity!!!!
Omg hiiii. I know I haven't written with Dallas yet so this is just asdfghjkl pls thank you ily <3
#fuckedprophet#[ 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 / love ]#[ 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜 / ooc ]#I typoed his name twice I'm the worst but he's Dalals now#I don't make the rules I just enforce them
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thinking about Will Swenson's Javert and the banality of evil all by yourself, beautiful?
#it's me i'm beautiful#posts to delete later#it's his job. he has woken up in the morning put on his funky little hat and enforced the rules for twenty years#this is the way things are#it's order and he just hates seeing it disturbed#les mis#i know javert isn't a villain i know I KNOW#but i think he is evil#an evil person can still be a complex and tourtured soul#an evil person can still have good intentions#broadway
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Like, getting political for a moment. A thing a lot of people need to understand is that, ultimately, rules only exist if they are enforceable. The mechanism of enforcement is what determines the realness of a rule.
If you're playing Monopoly and you decide that being in Jail sucks so you move your piece to Go and call it a tunneling loophole, there's nothing built into the game to actually stop you from doing that. Other players yelling at you and banishing you from the table is how the rule is enforced. But if they don't, if they let you do that, then I'm sorry but that's just how the game is played now. If you're allowed to do it then it's not against the rules.
We all instinctively understand that when you're running track, you're not supposed to cross the lines into someone else's lane. But the lines are not a wall. They're not physically preventing you from doing anything. If you decide you want to run into the lane to your right and jump-kick the other racer, you physically can do that.
The line on the ground is a social construct. It's part of the magic circle; A thing that takes on special meaning, even psychological power, so long as we exist within its play space. But it's not real, and it only has power if somebody comes over and drags you off the field for striking that other racer.
At the highest echelons of power, a lot of what "can" and "can't" be done are actually just the boundaries of a magic circle with few real enforcement mechanisms. The President can't do that. But. Like. Who's going to stop him if he does?
The biggest thing we learned during the Trump Presidency was just how many restrictions on government power are illusory. Trump spent his four years in office testing the limits of what he can and can't do. Stepping over the lines of the magic circle to see which ones had enforcement mechanisms and which were merely decorative. And revealing that an alarming number were decorative.
Because the thing about the highest offices, about POTUS and SCOTUS and Congress, is that they're the highest offices. There's nobody above them. The only check on their power is each other and, contrary to what high school social studies might tell you, those checks aren't very strong at all.
Trump wants to redefine the game rules to be dictatorial. The magic circle says he can't do that. But the only factor that truly decides whether he can or can't is whether the other players at the table will let him do it. And if you listen to the way Republican Congressmen talk, it's not reassuring.
There are no executive super-cops who will arrest Trump if he breaks the rules. The Avengers are not going to show up and stop him from continuing to reconfigure the magic circle to his liking. The only thing, the only true restriction on his power, is the vote. It's the fact that we, as a population, get to make a choice as to whether or not he even gets to sit back down at the table to play again at all.
In a democracy, voters are the enforcement mechanism. Let's try and remember that when November comes around.
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My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H
a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it
warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy
wc: 1.3k
"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."
You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.
"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor.
You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.
"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."
You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place.
You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.
"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."
The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.
"Having fun talking to yourself?"
You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."
He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.
You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"
The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.
His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.
He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back.
You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."
He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.
"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."
The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.
The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.
He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.
Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.
With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.
"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."
You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.
"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."
You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh.
"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.
Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.
Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."
You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"
Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."
He was only half-joking.
"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.
Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.
"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"
He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."
And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader#hotch#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fic#hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fluff#Spotify
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CALL ME DADDY w/Jujutsu Kaisen
More: Fem!Reader, explicit content, daddy Kink, dd/lg undertones, implied 24/7 kink play, blowjob, praise, punishment, spanking with a paddle, blood, riding, cunnilingus, squirting
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento & Choso Kamo
☾ Satoru Gojo
The ‘Dad Joke’ Daddy, ’s very playful and dorky. He loves doing the stereotypical TV dad things like smoking cigars, having a world’s best dad mug, and reading the paper during breakfast. Your number one supporter, always at every event or promotion you have, and he’s the first to support you when you’re down. Because he has more life experience, he enjoys guiding you.
“Quiet baby, Daddy’s tryin' ta read the paper.” He hushes you with a firm pat on the head. You're on your knees under the table, with his cock buried as far as it can go.
“Sorry Daddy,” you whisper, taking his heavy cock out of your mouth. “I promise I’ll be quiet.” You look up at him expectantly through wet lashes.
“I know you will, love.” He smiles down at you before gently pushing your head back towards his cock. You happily shove It back into your mouth while he picks up his favorite mug and reads about the current world events.
“Such a good girl, always listenin’ to what Daddy tells you, hmm? I think you deserve an award.”
☾ Ryomen Sukuna
The 'Disciplinarian' Daddy, has very high expectations of you. Very strict with SO many guidelines and rules, it's almost like he wants you to fail so he has a reason to punish you. He’s a brat tamer who readily reminds you who's in charge. Likes to physically enforce his rules and never skips a good spanking.
“I’m sorry Daddy, promise I am!” You sob as the wooden paddle comes down on your already bruised ass.
“You didn't sound sorry laughin' and messin’ with me durin’ my meeting.” He grits out, forcing your hands to stay on to the side when you try to cover your ass.
“Thought it was funny while m’ just tryin’ ta support us,” he brings the paddle down, ignoring your screams for mercy. “All you do is sit at home and’ spend my hard-earned money.”
“I'm sorry Daddy I won’t do it again.” You squirm when he rubs an especially sore spot on your ass that you know for a fact is going to sting for the next week.
“Yea?” He slowly lets go of your hands.
“Yes! Yes! I swear Daddy, on my life!” Your sob of relief turns into a scream when he brings his hand down again.
“What did I say about swearing things on your life, huh!?”
☾ Nanami Kento
The ‘Professor’ Daddy, he's so calm and patient with you. All he wants is to see you succeed. Likes taking you on informational dates like going to a museum or aquarium or just staying in and watching documentaries. He’s a pillar of strength, very structured and strict but also forgiving and nurturing. Loves giving you praise and seeing your face lighten up when he teaches you something interesting.
“C'mon little girl, you can do it.” He encourages you from his place underneath you.
“I can’t do it! ‘S too big, I’m so stupid!’ You cry out, covering your tear-ridden face from your daddy.
He must be so disappointed, you think.
“Hey…Hey, you can, princess, I know you can. Remember what Daddy taught you?” he pulls your hands from your face and places them on his big chest. You look into his eyes and nod.
“Yea,” he settles you over his cock. “Daddy knows he taught you how to ride, you just have to do it yourself now. C'mon perfect girl you can do it.”
With his praise you nod to yourself before slowly guiding yourself down his shaft. Once you reach the hilt you moan and smile down at him. He smiles back before nodding back expectantly. You brace your knees on the soft pillows underneath them and slowly start bouncing exactly like he taught you.
“My perfect girl.”
☾ Choso Kamo
The ‘lowercase ‘d’ Daddy, the rare submissive daddy. He loves doing anything that pleases you and tends to be more forgiving when you break the few rules he has. He enjoys providing from a submissive mindset and being wrapped around his partner's finger.
“Do you feel good, baby?” Chosos asks from his position underneath your dress.
“Mhm, feels so good Daddy, you always make me feel so good.” You moan when he goes back to eating you out. He says something else but it's muffled as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curl into your g-spot.
“Right there Daddy,” You squeeze his head between your thighs. “M’gonna squirt Daddy, you’re gonna make me squirt!” You yell before releasing all over his face.
“Fuck that felt so good Daddy.” You grin at Choso who’s come out of your now damp dress.
“Yea? You tasted fuckin’ divine babygirl.” He grins up at you.
“Can you do me a big favor?” You blink innocently, already knowing the answer. His eyebrows frown in confusion.
“Course I will baby, what is it?”
“Can you lick my mess up off the floor, don’ want my parents to wonder why the floor is wet.”
#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal#jjk#smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo smut#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#choso smut#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso x reader#choso x y/n#choso x you#sukuna smut#sukuna scenarios#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x y/n#nanami x you
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New Sibling Just Dropped
Or Danny gets willingly isekai'd into the DCU and gets a twin out of it.
I know I disappeared from the face of the earth for a bit there, and there's stuff I should probably be updating, but I come baring different stuff this time :D
Just started this for fun, and I have at least one other chapter of it done, but idk how long this bout of inspiration will last, so I'm just rolling with it for now.
@flamingpudding look! i pulled a jason todd and rose from the grave!
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Danny was tired. The kind of tired you felt behind your eyes and in your bones, and weighed heavy with achievement. He was perched on the edge of a building in his ghost form looking over Amity Park with a soft smile as he watched Youngblood run through the park with human children, Cujo playfully on their heels. His galaxy cloak (which had been a coronation gift) billowed around his lap like a gas with stars twinkling inside.
It had been a few years now since he took up the Crown of Fire and became High King of the Infinite Realms, and while he had accomplished many things since then, graduating from high school wasn't something on that list. It sucked that he wouldn't get to walk across the stage with Sam and Tucker, but in the face of all he'd been able to do for both Amity and the Infinite Realms, it was worth it. They coexisted now. There was still trouble every now and then, but Danny had helped the ghosts who insisted on staying in Amity Park find a place in their city where they could thrive.
Youngblood watched over the children of the city, Box Ghost started a box recycling center, Lunch Lady started a program to get food to families that couldn't afford it, and Pointdexter started reporting bullying at the school since he was already there.
On the Realms' side, Danny shut down Walker's prison. Since it was his lair, he couldn't take it away from him completely, but it no longer housed the many ghosts the warden had considered "rule breakers." He'd given Walker a new set of rules to enforce and essentially took him under his wing as a royal soldier, kept under the close watch of Fight Knight, who'd defected from Pariah Dark so fast after his defeat that it was laughable.
He'd done something similar with Skulker, though he was a harder case to crack. Unlike Walker, who was happy as long as he had a set of rules to enforce, Skulker wanted to keep hunting. He'd been recruited forcefully by Walker and Fright Knight after they caught him on his way to fight Danny again.
All in all, everything had begun to run smoothly now. The fatigue weighing on him reminded him that it had been hard to accomplish, and continuing to lead his double life hadn't made it any less exhausting. A cold breath rushed through his chest as he felt a familiar presence slide up next to him.
"You didn't time out," Danny pointed out without looking to face the ghost beside him. Clockwork hummed in acknowledgment.
"Sometimes it's pleasant to watch time flow in person." It was Danny's turn to hum at him.
"How are you feeling?" The Ancient asked thoughtfully. The younger ghost tilted his head pensively.
"It's hard to say. I'm tired, but I'm happy. And also sad..." he paused to gather his thoughts. "I feel like I've done everything I needed to."
But not everything he wanted to do.
"Go on," Clockwork pressed. The teenager did turn his head now to make a face at his mentor. If the guy knew how he felt and what he was going to say, why would he say it out loud? But the other just arched a brow at him and waited.
"Fine," he pouted. "I've spent so much time and energy finding places for everyone here. The GIW are gone, my parents stopped hunting ghosts, Jazz got into the psychology program at Stanford, Sam and Tucker are graduating today... I helped make that happen, I know I did! But they're moving on without me. They're growing up and I don't feel like I am."
'I don't feel like I'm ready.'
Danny stopped to take a breath and wipe away the icy tears gathering in his eyes. He felt stupid for crying over it. He was 17 for Ancients' sake! Jazz would have told him he grew up too fast, but he still felt like a child. He had no idea what he was doing! And yet! And yet... he felt...
"But you also feel ancient, right? Like you've been around too long and seen too much?" Clockwork said as though he were reading from a script. Danny sulked. Stupid time ghost with his dumb Time Stream TV or whatever.
"Yeah..."
"All Ancients feel that way. Though you may be feeling unbalanced in more ways than one because of how young you died and the fact you are half human."
"What do you mean?" Danny turned his whole body to face him now, tucking his knees under his chin and circling his arms around them. His cloak moved with him in inky black wisps and settled around him again like clouds of galaxies.
Clockworks form shifted to that of a child.
"You feel young because you died young. However, it is the nature of humans to grow and change. While you may have died at 14, your childhood died before that. You yearn to grow and learn, while also being an incredibly powerful Ancient."
He supposed that made sense. He recalled all the years cleaning the lab before the portal had even been built, and the fighting and neglect (Jazz's words, not his) that spawned his disdain of Christmas even longer before. He wanted to go back to school. He wanted a reason to love Christmas. He wanted pets and family dinners that didn't come alive. He wanted to grow up properly.
"But you still want to help people," the ghost said as though Danny had been talking out loud or having his mind read.
"I hate it when you do that," Danny complained. Clockwork just smiled smugly.
"I know." He laughed at the glare Danny threw him.
"I have a proposition for you," the older ghost began. Danny perked up in intrigue. "I know of another earth dimension with some problems that need to be addressed. Your role as High King puts you in a position to be helpful."
"Their problem has to do with the Realms?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. Ectoplasm from the Realms is pooling into what are referred to on their planet as Lazarus Pits. They are both helpful and harmful as they do not dissipate into the air so they continually collect and concentrate emotion, but they do sometimes revive the dead."
Danny grimaced in disgust at the thought of dunking a person into a stagnant pool of contaminated ectoplasm. "That sounds disgusting."
"Quite," Clockwork agreed.
"So what's your proposition?"
"Well, if it is agreeable to you, I would like to de-age your physical form and place you with a family that's had dealings with the Pits firsthand. I've found them to be quite charming."
"Ah, so you want me to go in undercover?" Danny couldn't help but roll his eyes a little. It wasn't a half bad idea. He could try his hand at childhood again and still get to handle his duties as King Phantom. Leading a double life again would be easy enough, it was just stepping from one role into another.
"Not at all." Clockwork smiled knowingly. Danny was officially suspicious of his ghost guardian. "This planet has had all kinds of dealings with the occult, and even humans with superpowers isn't that unusual. While I would advise against telling anyone you are a king right away, you are in fact just that: a king. You may do what you wish."
For an ancient and wise time ghost, Danny thought Clockwork was really shit at hiding his expressions. Though he tried to keep the grin off his face, Danny could clearly see the twitching of his lips and gleam in his eyes that promised the old man was scheming.
But to get his childhood back. Or, at least a semblance of one... it deserved consideration. Danny looked back out at the cityscape again. Sam and Tucker... they were down there graduating from high school without him. He'd been the one to encourage them to pull away from Team Phantom activities to zero in on their studies, but he didn't regret it. Sam wanted to major in environmental science and Tucker wanted to go to MIT and he just didn't fit into those plans. After Jazz left for Stanford, his parents often forgot he was still there. He'd managed to convince them to study ghosts properly instead of hunting them, and with a little help from the "friendly ghost King Phantom" they were given a place to start. They dove into their research with the same excitement and fervor they'd had all their lives. Which of course meant he went days, sometimes weeks, without seeing them emerge from the lab. It was easy enough to slip past them to the portal while they were distracted.
The point was that he'd started to feel his anchor to this city, to this realm, start to dissipate as the people who kept him there started to break away from him. He still loved them, wanted to protect them, but they were safe and happy now. He felt fulfilled in his task of protecting them, but there was a buzzing beneath his skin to do more.
Danny took a deep and controlled breath. He didn't need it in his ghost form, but it felt good to feel his lungs stretch to fullness.
"When would I start?" He asked finally. The straight face Clockwork had been trying to keep, and he really was so bad at it, finally broke into a wide grin.
"Right now. Everything is already in place and your duties in the Realms will be taken care of in your absence."
Danny smiled softly at his guardian. Clockwork sure had a funny way of showing it, but he cared so deeply for the boy next to him that when Danny responded with a bad pun, he couldn't even be annoyed.
"Well, no time like the present!" He winked.
Clockwork chuckled, and with a flash of light, he sent Danny on his way.
The more time the older ghost spent with his young ward, the more he appreciated him. The Danny he’d come to know was nothing like the Danny’s from other worlds he’d encountered while trying to prevent Dan from existing. His Danny was now truly one of a kind. None of the others, not even the ones that eventually turned into Dan, had been Ancients. There would never be another Danny like him, and every universe was adjusting to include him should he ever decide to visit them. He had a place in any world, should he choose, but Clockwork knew he was needed most in the one he’d sent him to. It would be truly entertaining to watch the young Ancient settle into his role there, and Clockwork was actually finding himself looking forward to it.
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It was dark and quiet a long while before Danny opened his eyes. And when he did open them it got really loud and really bright really fast. It belatedly occurred to him that he should have asked like a billion more questions before agreeing to be iseaki’d into a different dimension to join a family he knew literally nothing about.
There was shouting before someone in what looked like a ninja cult uniform shoved a knife into his hand and pushed him in the path of a person in a different uniform. The man in front of him was dressed in blue and black and wearing a mask that covered his eyes, but Danny could see the surprised shape of his mouth before it morphed into something like anger. And then he was being lunged at.
He shrieked as he dodged out of the way. Not his most graceful save, but whatever. His voice was a bit shrill and his center of gravity felt way off. He must have actually been de-aged! He wondered how old he was now. He still felt light on his feet thanks to his ghost half which felt blessedly intact. But the other guy was fast and he ducked into a roll just in time to dodge whatever weapon he was holding. This guy meant business, but he had no idea why he was trying to kill him.
‘Great, thanks Grandfather Clock for throwing me right back into the good ol’ days,’ he thought sarcastically. Nobody had attacked him for no good reason like that since Walker and Fright caught Skulker mid hunt for the very last time.
What he now saw was a baton swung down from overhead and Danny knew he wouldn't dodge it in time, so he caught it with the flat of the blade that had been shoved into his hands.
“Wait! Why are we fighting?” Danny yelled, panicked as the guy pushed more force into it. The man's face twisted into something like confusion for a moment and he backed off just the tiniest bit before the scuffing of shoes to his right had him looking over just in time to see another guy in a mask, this time in red, rushing at him. He threw his hands up in surrender.
“Wait!” He shrieked before he was absolutely bodied sideways into the ground.
Why was he doing this? He was half ghost, he could have just gone intangible and disappeared. He didn't have to be body slammed into the ground. Wasn't he a child now? Did that guy in red actually just slam a whole child into the ground?
“Red, hold on! This one's different!”
“What do you mean?” The guy Red asked. He was still pinning Danny to the ground.
“Yeah, what do you mean?” Danny asked breathlessly, then whimpered, “Someone please tell me what's going on!”
The one hovering over him must have seen something on his face that convinced him to not try and kill him anymore, because he grabbed him by the collar and started dragging him along.
“We'll take him in for questioning. Don't let Robin see him.”
“Who's Robin?!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been a long, arduous, and confusing journey from wherever they were to… well, wherever they were now. They'd blindfolded him for the transport so he still had no idea what was going on. He had learned that the guy with batons was Nightwing, and Red was actually Red Robin. The one they called Robin was a feral looking thing with swords, he was very small and stabby. Then there was Batman, and he totally threw off the whole bird theme but was easily the most intimidating. And that was all he knew so far. He'd been restrained at an interrogation table.
Danny groaned and knocked his forehead onto the table. He really, really wished he'd asked Clockwork more questions. He'd at least been able to catch a glimpse of himself in the glass behind Batman. He looked like he was eleven or twelve again, which was not as young as he'd been expecting, but much more preferable than being a literal toddler. The group of people he’d been brought in by seemed to be heroes. They were all incredibly weary of him, but hadn’t gone out of their way to harm him since his capture. Though it was hard to call it a capture when there wasn’t a chase involved.
“How old are you?” Batman asked suddenly. His voice was low and rough and somehow Danny could tell it didn't sound like that naturally.
“Um, maybe eleven or twelve?” Danny replied carefully, picking up his head from the table and having the decency to look a little embarrassed.
“And what's your name?” He looked like he was expecting something.
“My name is Danny, sir.”
“Hmm…”
It was quiet and awkward for a long moment.
“Why are you different from the other clones?”
“Yeeeaaah, I'm not a clone.” Danny absolutely did not jump when the brute slammed the file folder shut in front of him.
“We'll see what your DNA results have to say about that,” he said confidently before turning to leave, his cape dramatically flaring out behind him.
Sheesh, and he thought he’d had a flair for the dramatics.
‘Okay, time for some assessment,’ Danny thought to himself as he looked around the small closed room. It was soundproofed incredibly well. While he didn’t have super crazy hearing, it was enhanced by his ghost half, and combined with his other sharp senses, it tended to help him gather more information than others could. The most he could hear outside the room was a quiet hum of activity and nothing discernible. Still, he needed to decide how much he would say to these people. How much truth did he want to weave into his tale? These people clearly already had their own assumptions about him in mind, and while there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a clone, he knew he didn’t have what it took to keep up an act like that for long, which would just end up being awkward for everyone.
He also would not be telling them about his status as Ghost King, per Clockwork’s suggestion. His captors seemed like the uptight sort, and revealing that he was a big, scary ghost monarch didn’t seem like it’d go over well. Telling them he was a halfa would probably get them off his back over the clone thing, at least. He went over the list in his head.
He was a halfa from another dimension, so he couldn’t be a clone.
He had no plans of fighting with anyone unless absolutely necessary.
He did not have a way back to his other dimension.
His name was Danny, and he didn’t have a family anymore.
He did not know why he was in the middle of whatever fight he woke up in.
No, he didn’t know those people.
Danny must’ve been lost in thought for quite a while because his thoughts were interrupted by Batman bursting back through the door. The man’s demeanor had changed completely and he whipped off his cowl to reveal disheveled dark hair, blue eyes, and an expression of absolute heartbreak that accompanied his shuddering breaths. With the mask off, he reminded Danny a lot of his father.
Batman searched his face and, much like Red Robin had before, seemed to notice something there.
“She did it twice,” he muttered to himself. “Two of them this whole time and she didn’t tell me about either of them,” he said through gritted teeth. His frown deepened. Danny copied his frown.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He still had no idea what was going on.
#dcxdp#danny phantom#batman#danny fenton#fanfiction#damian wayne#batfam#just having fun with all the tropes#danny and damian are twins#except they're also kinda not#danny just wants to be a kid again#clockwork is scheming again#not even damian is safe from it#danny wanted something to do and clockwork dropped him and and said “go fix this”#also this is like barely edited
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A Guide to the Chinese Underworld (and what it isn't)
As many FSYY and fox posts as there were on my blog, I am actually a huge fan of the Chinese Underworld mythos. Mostly because I was once a morbid little kid that loved reading about the excavations of ancient tombs, and found the statues depicting hellish torture in the Haw Par Villa "super cool".
Apart from the aesthetics, the history of its evolution is also fascinating. Most of us, Chinese or not, only know the most popular version of the Underworld——the "Ten Kings" system, yet that isn't always the case. So today, I'll start off with a short summary of that.
In pre-Qin era, there was already this generic idea of a "Realm of the Dead" called the Yellow Spring, Youdu, or Youming, but we know very little about it.
Then, in the Han dynasty, two ideas start to emerge: 1) the Underworld is a bureaucracy, 2) the God of Mt. Tai ruled over the dead.
This early bureaucracy might not function as an agent of punishment; the main focus was on keeping the dead segregated from the living so they wouldn't bring diseases and misfortune to the latter, as well as using those ghosts to enforce collective punishments upon people for their lineage's wrongdoings while they were still alive.
Post-Han, after Buddhism entered China and took root, its idea of karmic punishments and reincarnation and the figure of King Yama was merged with folk and Daoist ideas of the Underworld bureaucracy, and, came Tang dynasty, resulted in the "Ten Kings" system that first appeared in Dunhuang manuscripts.
It was very rudimentary and far from well-established, as seen in Tang legends, with some adopting the Ten Kings system, some sticking to the Lord of Mt. Tai and some favoring King Yama, and overall little agreements on who's in charge of the Underworld.
But the "Ten Kings" system would become the mainstream version from then onwards, used in Ming vernacular novels and made even more popular by folk religion scrolls like the Jade Records (Yuli Baochao).
As such, most points in the following sections will be based on the fully matured "Ten Kings" system of the Underworld, as seen in the Jade Records and JTTW.
What happens when you die?
(This is a fictionalized walkthrough of the posthumous fate of souls under the "Ten Kings" system. I try to stick to the very broad progression outlined in the Jade Records, but many creative liberties are taken on the details.)
Let's say there's a guy named Xiao Ming, and he had just died of a heart attack. Bummers. What now?
Well, the first thing he saw would be the ghost cops.
There isn't really an unanimous agreement on who these ghost cops are: they may be a pair of ghosts in white and black robes, wearing tall hats (Heibai Wuchang), they may have the heads of farm animals (Ox-Head and Horse-Face), or they can just be generic ghost bureaucrats. For convenience's sake, let's say it was the first scenario.
"Who are you guys and where are you taking me?"
"Glad you asked!" The taller ghost cop, being the cheerful one of the pair, replied. It wasn't very reassuring, considering that his tongue was dangling out of his mouth way further than it should. "I'm the White Impermanence, my sour-looking colleague here is the Black Impermanence, and we are taking you to the City God's office."
This City God, a.k.a. Chenghuang, is just like how it sounds: the divine guardian of a city, who also pulls double duty as the head of the local Dead People Customs Office. They are usually virtuous officials deified posthumously, and in JTTW, they fall under the category of "Ghostly immortals", together with the Earth Gods a.k.a. Tudi.
So Xiao Ming went with the two ghost cops——not like he had much of a choice, made his way through the long queue at the City God's office, and was now standing in front of a gruff old magistrate in traditional robes.
"Name?"
"Wang Xiao Ming."
"Age and birth dates?"
"21, April 16 2003…"
After he was done asking questions, the City God flipped through his ledger, then picked up a brush, ticked off Xiao Ming's name, and told him to go get his pass in the next room. More waiting in a queue. Wonderful.
"I never heard anything about needing a pass to get to the Underworld," the girl in front of Xiao Ming asked the ghost cops, who were standing guard nearby. "Is this a new policy or something?"
"Yeah. In the old days, we'd just drag y'all straight to the Ghost Gate." The ghost cop in black said, then muttered to himself, "Fuckin' paperworks and overpopulation, man…"
(This "Dead People Passport" thing was popularized in the middle-to-late Ming dynasty, as shown by the discovery of such documents inside tombs in southern China. )
(It might have evolved from similar passes to the Western Pure Land in lay Buddhism that recorded their acts of merits. Which, in turn, might be traced back to the "Dead People Belongings List" of Han dynasty, to be shown to Underworld bureaucrats so that no one would take away the dead's private property down there or something.)
Anyways, after he received his pass, Xiao Ming departed together with the rest of the bunch, to be led to the Ghost Gate. It was like the world's most depressing tourist group, where instead of tour guides, you got two ghost cops in funny hats, and the only scenery in sight was the desolation of the Yellow Spring Road.
They weren't the only travellers on the road, though. Xiao Ming noticed other groups moving in the far distance, behind the fog and the flickering ghostfire, led by similar figures in black and white.
It made a lot of sense; realistically, there was no way two ghost cops could fetch hundreds of thousands of dead people all by themselves.
(SEA Tang-ki mediums believed there were multiple Tua Di Ya Peks——Hokkien name for the Black and White Impermanences, working for different Underworld Courts.)
At last, the Ghost Gate stood in front of Xiao Ming, guarded by two towering figures. Normally, they'd be Ox-Head and Horse-Face, like what you see at Haw Par Villa's Underworld entrance.
However, older Han dynasty works like Wang Chong's 论衡·订鬼 also mentioned two gods, Shenshu and Yulei, as guardians of the Ghost Gate, who would use reed ropes to capture malicious ghosts and feed them to tigers, making them possibly the earliest incarnation of "Gate Gods".
So here, they were what Xiao Ming sees, standing side by side like proper doormen, silently watching herds of ghosts being funneled through the entrance.
The place was more crowded than a train station during the CNY Spring Rush; the ghost cops had already said their quick goodbye and left to fetch the next group of dead people, leaving the resident officials of the Underworld proper to maintain order and quell any would-be riots.
Now you started seeing the Ox-Head and Horse-Face guys, poking at unruly ghosts with their pitchforks and dragging away the violent ones in chains. Among their ranks were other monstrous beings, blue-faced yakshas and imps, but also regular dead humans who look 100% done with their jobs, like the lady who stamped Xiao Ming's pass when it was finally his turn.
After this point, Xiao Ming had entered the Underworld proper, and his next destination would be the First Court, led by King Qin'guang. Here, his fate should be decided by what is revealed in the King's magical mirror.
If Xiao Ming was a good guy, or someone who had done an equal amount of good and bad things in life, he'd be sent straight to the Tenth Court for reincarnation. However, if the mirror, while replaying his life events, had displayed more evil deeds than good ones, he'd be sent to one of the 2nd-9th Courts for judgment and then punished inside the Eighteen Hells.
Each of the Ten Kings was also assisted by ghostly judges. Many of them were righteous and just officials in life who had been recruited into the Ten Courts posthumously——Cui Jue from JTTW is one such example, while others were living people working part-time for the Underworld, like how Wei Zheng, Taizong's minister, works part-time for the Celestial Bureaucracy in JTTW.
We decide to be nice to Xiao Ming, so, after reliving some embarrassing childhood incidents and cringy teenage phases in front of a bunch of dead bureaucrats, he was found innocent and sent to the Tenth Court.
The queue here was almost as long as the First Court's, stretching on and on alongside of the banks of the Nai River. King of the Turning Wheel made his judgment without even lifting his head when it was Xiao Ming's turn:
"Path of Humans, male, healthy in body and mind, ordinary family. Next!"
Exiting the Tenth Court building, Xiao Ming saw the Terrace of Forgetfulness, standing tall before six bridges, made of gold, silver, jade, stone, wood, and…some unidentified material. Before he could get a good look at them and the little dots moving across those bridges, he was hurried into the Terrace by the ghostly officials.
Now, both JTTW and the Jade Records mention multiple bridges across the Nai River. In the former, there is 3, and the latter, 6. The bridges made of precious materials are for people who will reincarnate into better lives, as the wealthy, the fortunate, and the divine, while the Naihe Bridge is either the common option or the terribad shitty option.
However, the Naihe Bridge proved to be so iconic, it became THE bridge you walk across to reincarnate in popular legends.
Anyways, back to Xiao Ming. He found himself standing in a giant soup kitchen of sorts, with an old lady at the counter, scooping soup out of her steaming pot and into one cup after another.
This is Mengpo, the amnesia soup granny; according to the Jade Records, she was born in the Western Han era, and a pious cultivator who thought of neither the past nor the future, only knowing that her surname was Meng.
Made into an Underworld god by the Jade Emperor, she cooks a soup of five flavors that will wipe the memory of the dead, making sure they do not remember any of their past lives once they reincarnate.
It tastes awful. Like what you get after pouring corn syrup, coffee, chilli sauce, lemon juice and seawater into the same cup.
Such was Xiao Ming's last thought, as he gulped down the soup, and then he knew no more.
Things you should know about the Chinese Underworld:
1. It's not the Christian Hell.
Rather, the Chinese Underworld functions somewhat like the Purgatory, in that there are a lot of torment, but the torment's not eternal, however long the duration may be. Once you finish your sentence, you get reincarnated as something else, though that "something else" is not a guaranteed good birth.
Other people can also speed up the process via transferring of merits: hiring a priest/monk to chant sutras and perform rituals, for example, or performing good deeds in life in dedication to the dead, or they can pray to a Daoist/Buddhist deity to save their loved ones from a dreadful fate.
Interestingly enough, a thesis paper I read mentions that, whereas Buddhist salvation from the Hells was based on transference of merits——you give monks offerings and pay them to chant sutras, so they can cancel out the sinners' bad karma with good ones, Daoist ideas of salvation tend to involve the priest going down there, sorting it out with the Underworld officials, and taking the dead out of the Hells themselves.
(The paper also stops at the Northern-Southern and Tang dynasties, so the above is likely period-specific.)
2. Nor is it run by evil demons.
Underworld officials are not nice guys and look pretty monstrous and torture the sinful dead, but they are not the embodiment of evil. Rather, the faction as a whole is what I'd call Lawful Neutral, who function on this "An Eye for An Eye" logic, where every harm the sinner caused in life must be returned to them, in order for their karmic debts to be cleansed and move on to their next life.
They can absolutely be corrupt and incompetent and take bribes——Tang dynasty Zhiguai tales and Qing folklore compendiums featured plenty of such cases, but that's a very mundane and human kind of evil, not a cosmic/innate one.
This is just my personal opinion, but if you want to do an "evil" Chinese Underworld? It should be a very bureaucratic evil, whose leaders are bootlickers to the higher-ups, slavedrivers to their rank-and-file workers, and bullies who abuse their power over regular dead people.
Not, y'know, Satan and his infernal legions or conspiring Cthulu cultists.
3. The Ten Kings are not Hades.
Make no mistake, they still have a lot of power over your average dead mortal. But in the grand scheme of things? They are the backwater department of the pantheon, who only show up in JTTW to get pushed around and revive the occasional dead people.
When Taizong made his trip to the Underworld, the Ten Kings greeted him as equals——kings of ghosts to the king of the living. If they see themselves as equal in status to a mortal emperor, then, like any mortal emperors, they are subordinate to the Celestial Host, and the balance of power is not even remotely equal or in their favor.
Also, it isn't said outright, but under the Zhong-Lv classification of immortals JTTW is using, Underworld officials will likely be considered Ghostly immortals, the lowest and weakest of the five types, much like Tudis and Chenghuangs.
Essentially: they are ghosts that are powerful enough to not reincarnate and linger on and on, spirits of pure Yin as opposed to true immortals, who are beings of pure Yang.
It's pretty much the shittiest form of immortality, the result you get when you try to speedrun cultivation (the Zhong-Lv text also made a dig at Buddhist meditation here), and if they don't reincarnate or regain a physical body, there is no chance of progressing any further.
Oh, and fun fact? In the Song dynasty, commoners and literati elites alike believed that virtuous officials in life would get appointed as ghostly officials in death.
However, the latter viewed it as a punishment. Which was strange, considering how they still held the same position and the same amount of authority, just over dead people instead of living ones, so there should be no big losses, right?
Well...it was precisely the "dead people" part that made it a punishment. See, a lot of the power and prestige they had as officials came from the benefits they could bring to their families and kins and native places, as well as the potential wealth and reputation bonuses for themselves.
A job in the Dead People Supreme Court would give them the same workload, but with none of those benefits. Since all the dead people had to reincarnate eventually, they couldn't have a fixed group as their power base, or keep their old familial ties and connections. At most, they could help out an occasional dead relative or two.
Like, working for the Underworld Courts was the kind of deadend (no pun intended) job not even living officials wanted for themselves in the afterlife. That's how hilariously sad and pathetic they are.
4. In JTTW at least, they aren't even the highest authorities of the Underworld.
That would be Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha, who is technically their boss, though he seems to be more of a spiritual leader than someone who is actually involved in running the bureaucracy.
Which makes sense, since he has sworn an oath to not attain Buddhahood until all Hells are empty, and his role is to offer relief and salvation to the suffering souls, not judging and punishing them.
Now, historically...even though Ksitigarbha in early Tang legends was still the savior of the dead, he seemed to be unable to interfere with the judicial process of the Underworld, merely showing up to take people away before they were judged by King Yama.
However, in the mid-Tang apocryphal "Sutra of Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha" (地藏菩萨经), he had evolved into the equal of King Yama, with the power of supervision over his judgements. By the time the Scripture on the Ten Kings came out, in artistic depictions, the Ten Kings had become fully subservient to him.
5. Diyu usually refers to the prison-torture chamber part, not the courthouse, nor is it the entirety of the Underworld.
And for the majority of souls that haven't committed crimes, they'll only see the courthouse part before they are sent to reincarnation. That's why I personally don't like, or use the name Diyu for the Chinese Underworld: I prefer the term Difu ("Earth Mansions"), which encompasses the whole realm better.
Also: even though historical sources like the Scripture on the Ten Kings and Jade Records seem to suggest that the dead were just funneled through this Courthouse-Prison-Reincarnation pipeline with no breaks in between, in practice, that isn't the case.
According to popular folk beliefs, after the dead were done with their trials/sentences, they stayed in the Underworld for a period of time and led regular lives, while functioning as ancestor spirits and receiving offerings.
Which would imply that the Underworld had a civilian district of sorts, populated by regular ghosts, making the whole realm even less of a direct Hell/Purgatory equivalent.
6. It is located in a different realm, but still part of the Six Paths and doesn't exist outside of reality.
In Buddhist cosmology, like the Celestial Realm, the Underworld is part of the Realm of Desires and thus subject to all the woes of samsara.
The pain and misery of the Path of Hell may be the worst and most obvious, but becoming a celestial being isn't the goal of serious Buddhists either: despite all the pleasures and near-infinite lifespan they enjoy, they are not free from samsara and will eventually have to reincarnate.
So if, say, the world is being destroyed at the end of a kalpa, all beings of the Six Paths will perish alongside it, leaving behind a clean slate for the cycle to start anew. The dead won't all end up in the Underworld and face eternal damnation.
7. The Black and White Impermanences would not appear in the Underworld pantheon formally until the Qing dynasty.
The concept that when you die, you get fetched to the Underworld by petty ghost bureaucrats is already well-established in Tang legends, but these were just generic ghost bureaucrats in all sorts of colorful official robes, with yellow being the most common color.
The idea of there being two specific psychopomps in black and white would only become popular in the Qing dynasty. Mengpo is kinda similar: although she existed before the Ming-Qing era as a goddess of wind, venerated by boatmen, her "amnesia soup granny" incarnation came from the Jade Records.
#chinese mythology#chinese folklore#chinese underworld#diyu#chinese religion#cw: death#hell#underworld#journey to the west#I'm lazy so if you want a “work cited” list#just dm me
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read at your own risk (I'm terribly out of practice)
uhhhhh... blah, blah, blah-
owner!price who enforces a new rule, banning you and pup!kyle from kissing each other. he spends the next day watching his two pups desperately dry hump each other, Kyle's cock leaking in his boxers as he ruts against your drooling cunt. he almost cries, the slick heat of your cunt under your panties taunting him.
the pair of you can barely control yourselves, whimpering as you try press every inch of your skin against Kyle's. it's a cute scene, the perfect entertainment for price as he burns through a fresh cigar. it's clear neither of you know what to do with yourselves, desperate to sloppily makeout and swap spit like you'd normally do.
instead, Kyle resorts to licking and drooling over your skin. his growls making you shiver as he holds you close, licking and sucking on your chubby cheeks, but never kissing your pouty lips. he's a good boy, after all.
It's funny to price, really. he sometimes forgets his well trained pups are just horny little mutts in disguise.
#im out of practice#i apologise if its a bit shit#i jus have owner price on the mind#need a man like price#thats it thats the tweet#mw2 smut#price x chubby!puppygirl#price x female reader#female reader#price x reader smut#john price x reader smut#pupkyle x pupreader#kyle x reader smut#gaz x reader smut#hybrid smut
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do you think you could write about a white rabbit reader like how did with wild cat? as in the white rabbit from alice in wonderland— who’s more of a polite anxious mess trying to follow the queens strict rules but is kind of bad at it. possibly shy or on the quieter side like a rabbit beastman would probably be, considering most of the beastmens personalities align with their animal counterparts behavior. and for some reason most of the beastmen we see, or even the merpeople, are all predator animals so i would love to see their interactions with a prey animal. for the first time ever, leona would actually be scientifically correct in calling the reader an herbivore. they would also be the only beastman who’s not sorted into savanaclaw i imagine. in canonical alice in wonderland, or at least a majority of its interpretations, the white rabbit is considered a neutral, somewhat villain leaning character. he works for the queen but he’s never outright evil, if anything he’s kind of a coward as he is initially terrified of alice. so i can see reader being mostly benevolent and a little bit of a scaredy cat who’s still relatively friendly. thank you
White Rabbit! Reader x Everyone
Thank you for the request <3 I hope you like it
Character: All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige
Riddle Rosehearts:
You’re always on edge around Riddle, frantically trying to follow the Queen's rules and his. But you trip over your own feet so often that Riddle ends up scolding you almost every day.
"Rule 76: No running in the halls!" Riddle huffs as you scramble past him, dropping a handful of papers as you trip over your own shoes.
You fumble around, trying to gather the papers while stammering an apology, eyes wide and twitching like a startled rabbit. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to—oh no! Rule 17: Never drop important documents...”
Riddle looks ready to blow up, but when you shoot him those big, panicked eyes, he exhales sharply through his nose, the lecture stuck in his throat. "Just… get it together!" he mutters, turning on his heel, clearly flustered. “How am I supposed to enforce rules when you look like you're going to faint every time I open my mouth?!”
In the back of your mind, you wonder if he’d be so strict if he knew you were working for the "Queen." But you don't have the nerve to tell him that, so you just nod and awkwardly salute.
Trey Clover:
You never quite relax around Trey, even though he's the calmest person in Heartslabyul. Every time you’re near him, you’re just waiting for the moment when he’ll ask you to do something scary, like taste one of his experimental dishes or—worse—eat cake in front of Riddle. The idea makes your ears droop.
"Hey, you okay?" Trey asks when he notices you standing stiffly by the kitchen door. He’s got flour on his apron and a knife in hand, chopping fruit with easy precision.
You jump at the sound of his voice and nearly knock over a stack of plates. "I-I’m fine!" you squeak, standing even straighter like you’re in the Queen’s court.
Trey chuckles softly. "You know, I’m not going to bite. Unless I’m making rabbit stew." He winks.
Your eyes widen in horror, ears trembling. "R-rabbit stew?!"
He laughs, holding up his hands. "I'm kidding! Kidding!" Trey seems to find your reactions endlessly amusing, always leaning in with a gentle smile. "But if you need help relaxing, just say the word. Maybe we can make some tea. No pressure."
But all you hear is "pressure," and you feel like you're about to combust.
Cater Diamond:
Cater thinks you're the cutest thing on two legs, especially when you're in a flustered state. Which, unfortunately for you, is almost all the time.
“Yo, lil’ bunny!” Cater calls out as he sidles up to you in the hall, phone in hand. You’re mid-panic about how you’re going to explain to Riddle why your shoes are untied, your tie is crooked, and you accidentally skipped breakfast because you were too nervous to eat.
You freeze, giving Cater a look like a deer in headlights—or rather, a rabbit in a snare. “D-don’t call me that,” you mumble, ears twitching furiously. “R-Riddle might hear…”
Cater just grins, pulling out his phone to snap a quick selfie of your panicked expression. “You’ve gotta chill! It’s like, the 5th time today you’ve looked like you're on trial.”
You flinch. On trial?! That’s even worse! “I-I can’t relax! W-what if I break a rule?!”
Cater just pats your head, ruffling your hair. "Well, I think you're doing just fine! Plus, it makes for great content. Smile, #bunnyfails!"
You want to disappear into the ground. But Cater just keeps snapping pics and laughing.
Ace Trappola:
Ace treats you like an adorable walking ball of stress that’s just begging to be messed with. And who is Ace if not a professional button-pusher?
"Hey! Rabbit!" Ace shouts across the Heartslabyul gardens one day, and you nearly jump out of your skin, spilling tea all over yourself.
“E-Excuse me?!” you sputter, face burning as you frantically blot at the stain on your uniform.
Ace saunters over with a grin on his face. "Oh, sorry. Did I startle you? You’re just so jumpy—like, literally! It’s hilarious!"
"I-I’m not jumpy!" you insist, but your trembling hands betray you as you fumble with your napkin, accidentally knocking the sugar bowl off the table.
Ace bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over. "Dude, you’re killing me! I swear, every time I’m around, it’s like watching a sitcom! *This* is quality entertainment!"
You huff, glaring at him, ears drooping. "I’m not entertainment."
Ace just gives you a thumbs-up. "Sure you are. And the best part is, you do it all for free!"
Deuce Spade:
Deuce wants to help. He really does. But every time he sees you looking like you’re two seconds from a meltdown, he panics even harder than you do.
"W-whoa! Are you okay?!" Deuce exclaims when he finds you frantically digging through your bag, trying to find the Queen’s latest decree—or was it Riddle’s study notes? You can't remember because you’re too stressed.
"I-I lost the thing! You know, the thing!" you gasp out, waving your arms wildly.
Deuce pales. "Oh no, that’s bad! I-I can help! What thing?!”
"I DON’T KNOW!" you cry, at the peak of panic now.
Deuce stares at you for a second, eyes wide. Then he also starts scrambling around. "Okay, okay! We can find it! Stay calm! Well—not calm, but calmer!"
You both end up running in circles until Trey finds you and asks, deadpan, “What exactly are you two looking for?”
The silence that follows is deafening.
“Um…” Deuce rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “I... kind of forgot.”
Leona Kingscholar:
Leona knows exactly how to push your buttons—and he does so with as little effort as possible. For someone so calm and lazy, he seems to get a real kick out of watching you squirm.
“Oi, herbivore,” Leona drawls from his usual spot under the shade of a tree. You freeze, clutching your bag tighter as you glance nervously in his direction. “Why are you sneaking around like a prey animal? Oh, wait—you are one.”
You flinch and stammer, “I-I’m not sneaking, I’m just, um... minding my own business?”
Leona smirks, lazily cracking open one eye to look at you. “If you ‘mind your business’ any harder, you’re gonna trip over your own feet.”
You gulp, taking a step back, but he’s not done with you. “Maybe if you tried relaxing for once, you wouldn’t be so jittery.”
“I-I can’t help it!” you squeak, nearly tripping as you scuttle away, ears twitching furiously. “I have to follow the rules!”
Leona watches you run off, chuckling lowly to himself. “Rules, huh? Just don’t drop dead from the stress, or I’ll have to carry your sorry hide out of here.”
You spend the next week worrying that he’s going to jump out of nowhere and pounce on you—but of course, that’s way too much effort for Leona.
Ruggie Bucchi:
Ruggie sees you as someone who’s just begging to be teased, and he has no qualms about taking full advantage of your easily flustered nature.
One day, while you’re doing your best to stay out of trouble, Ruggie sneaks up behind you, flashing that mischievous grin of his. “Hey there, Bunny! Need some help with that?”
You yelp and nearly leap out of your skin, sending your stack of papers flying in every direction. “R-Ruggie! You startled me!”
Ruggie snickers as he helps you gather up the papers. “Aw, c’mon, I didn’t mean to. You’re just too easy, y’know? Makes me wanna mess with you a little.”
You pout, ears drooping. “W-well, it’s not very nice...”
He shrugs, still grinning. “What can I say? It’s in my nature. But I guess I’ll help you out, just this once.” He leans in closer and lowers his voice, adding, “Don’t expect it for free, though.”
Your face goes pale. “Wh-what do you want?”
Ruggie chuckles. “Relax, I’m just teasing! For now, anyway.” He winks before sauntering off, leaving you clutching your papers and wondering if every beastman in Savanaclaw has it out for you.
Jack Howl:
Jack feels a sense of duty to protect you. Even though he thinks you’re a little too skittish for your own good, he respects how hard you try to follow the rules—even when you trip over them.
“Hey, wait up,” Jack calls after you one day as you’re hurrying across campus. You turn to see him jogging over, looking concerned.
“O-oh! Jack! I-I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” you ask nervously, already panicking that you might have broken some rule.
Jack frowns, crossing his arms. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Why do you always assume you did?”
You blink up at him, ears twitching. “I-I’m just worried I’ll mess up...”
Jack sighs, shaking his head. “You’re too hard on yourself. Look, if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll step in. No one’s gonna hurt you while I’m around.”
Your eyes widen. “R-really? You’d do that?”
Jack nods firmly. “Of course. You’ve got a good heart, even if you’re a bit jumpy. Someone’s gotta look out for you.”
You smile up at him, feeling a little more reassured. But before you can thank him, you trip over your own feet and fall forward—right into Jack’s arms.
He catches you easily, looking down at you with a raised brow. “You’re really something, you know that?”
You blush furiously, scrambling to right yourself. “S-sorry! I-I didn’t mean to...”
Jack just chuckles softly. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back, Bunny.”
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul sees your anxiety as an untapped market. He’s confident he could help soothe your nerves—with a little contract, of course.
One day, while you’re quietly minding your own business in the Mostro Lounge, Azul slips into the seat across from you with his signature grin. “Ah, my dear friend. You seem rather... tense.”
You freeze in place, blinking rapidly. “O-oh! N-no, I’m just... trying to follow the rules.”
Azul’s eyes gleam behind his glasses. “Why don’t I offer you a deal? I can help alleviate some of that stress of yours. All it would take is a small favor in return...”
Your ears twitch nervously. “U-um... I-I’m not sure...”
Azul leans closer, lowering his voice to a silky whisper. “Imagine it—no more anxiety, no more worries about breaking the rules. All you’d have to do is sign here...”
You nearly pass out from the pressure, eyes darting around the lounge as if looking for an escape. “I-I think I’m fine! Really! Thank you!”
Azul chuckles darkly as you bolt from the lounge. He watches you go with a sigh. “Ah, such potential... But I suppose it’s not every day I encounter a rabbit so determined to resist.”
Jade Leech:
Jade finds your anxious behavior endlessly fascinating. He’s not one to outright tease—he prefers subtlety—but he enjoys watching you squirm in his presence.
One afternoon, you’re frantically trying to fix a mistake in your homework when Jade appears behind you without a sound. “Oh my, is everything alright?”
You yelp, almost knocking over your ink bottle. “J-Jade! You startled me!”
Jade smiles pleasantly, though you can see a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I apologize. I simply couldn’t help but notice how... flustered you seemed.”
You try to calm your racing heart. “I-I’m just trying to finish this assignment...”
Jade leans over your shoulder, examining your work. “Ah, I see. Perhaps I could offer some assistance? Though I must admit, it is rather... amusing to watch you at times.”
You flush, ears twitching in embarrassment. “A-amusing?”
Jade chuckles softly, standing upright again. “Indeed. You’re quite endearing in your own way.”
You’re not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but you nod meekly. “T-thank you... I think?”
Floyd Leech:
Floyd loves messing with you. It’s as simple as that. Your reactions are priceless, and he never misses an opportunity to make you jump out of your skin.
“Bunnyyyyy!” Floyd calls out, voice echoing through the hall as he chases after you. You speed up, desperately trying to get away, but Floyd is faster, his long legs catching up in no time.
He grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around with a grin. “Gotcha!”
You practically shriek. “F-Floyd! I-I wasn’t—”
Floyd cackles, bending down to look you in the eyes. “You’re always so jumpy, Bunny. It’s fun chasing you! Makes me wanna squeeze you even more.”
You tremble under his intense gaze, feeling like a mouse caught by a cat. “P-please don’t squeeze too hard...”
Floyd laughs again and ruffles your hair. “No promises! But you’re too funny to squish all at once. Guess I’ll just have to keep playing with you!”
You manage a weak smile, trying not to collapse from sheer anxiety. “G-great...”
Kalim Al-Asim:
Kalim is oblivious to your constant anxiety and thinks you’re just really shy. He goes out of his way to befriend you, always offering kind words and gifts to make you feel welcome.
One day, Kalim approaches you with a beaming smile, holding out a brightly wrapped gift. “Hey, I got this for you!”
Your ears twitch in surprise. “F-for me? Why?”
Kalim laughs cheerfully. “Why not? You’re my friend! And you always look so nervous, I thought this might cheer you up!”
You blink down at the gift, overwhelmed by his kindness. “I-I don’t know what to say...”
Kalim grins wider. “No need to say anything! Just know that if you ever feel anxious, I’m here for you, okay?”
His sunny demeanor is so contagious that you can’t help but smile back. “Th-thank you, Kalim. That means a lot...”
Kalim claps you on the back with a laugh, nearly knocking you off your feet. “No worries! We’re friends, after all!”
Jamil Viper:
Jamil is mildly exasperated by your anxious nature. He already has his hands full with Kalim, so dealing with you on top of that feels like another babysitting job. Still, he does his best to help you out when Kalim inevitably ropes you into their social circle.
One day, you’re standing awkwardly at the edge of a party, trying to blend into the wallpaper when Jamil approaches you with a sigh. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”
You glance at him nervously. “I-I don’t want to cause any trouble...”
Jamil pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re not causing trouble. Just... relax a little, okay? You don’t have to be so anxious all the time.”
You look up at him with wide eyes. “I-I don’t know how...”
Jamil sighs again, crossing his arms. “Well, just... follow Kalim’s lead, I guess. He doesn’t worry about anything.”
You look over at Kalim, who’s dancing on a table and laughing without a care in the world. “Easier said than done...”
Jamil gives you a tired look. “Tell me about it.”
Vil Schoenheit:
Vil is very much like the Queen you serve—strict, elegant, and entirely intimidating. Which means every time you’re around him, you end up feeling like you’re going to pass out from sheer anxiety.
“Why are you slouching like that?” Vil snaps, noticing you trying to fade into the background during a Pomefiore meeting. He points a perfectly manicured finger at you, expression sharp. “Posture is important, darling.”
You immediately stand straighter, ears trembling slightly. “I-I’m sorry, Vil! I didn’t mean to—"
“Hmm,” Vil tilts his head, examining you with a critical eye. “I swear, being around you is like trying to train an anxious little bunny. How am I supposed to shape you into anything presentable if you’re always two seconds away from fainting?”
“I-I promise to do better!” you stammer, sweating bullets.
Vil sighs dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just… try not to look like prey when you’re in front of an audience, alright? We can’t have Pomefiore’s image ruined because someone mistook you for their lunch.”
You nod furiously, completely unsure how you’re supposed to accomplish that but determined to try.
Rook Hunt:
Rook finds you utterly fascinating, like a rare creature he’s determined to observe in its natural habitat. Which is to say, he’s always popping up out of nowhere and scaring the living daylights out of you.
“Mon lapin!” Rook exclaims from behind you, and you jump about three feet in the air, ears standing straight up.
“R-Rook! Please don’t do that!” you gasp, clutching your chest as you try to calm your racing heart.
Rook just smiles at you, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Ah, but I cannot help it! The way you react—so pure, so genuine, like a rabbit hearing a twig snap in the forest! It’s magnifique!”
You gulp, ears slowly drooping back down. “I-I don’t think being compared to prey is exactly a compliment…”
“But of course it is!” Rook insists, stepping closer and giving you a dazzling grin. “You are a creature of instinct, always alert, always prepared to flee! There is beauty in that, mon ami. And I, as your loyal huntsman, will ensure no harm befalls you.”
You smile nervously, unsure if that’s comforting or even scarier. “T-that’s… good to know?”
Rook’s eyes sparkle, as if he’s just found his next great challenge. “Ah, but one day, I hope to see you without fear, to see the calm, serene smile of a rabbit at rest. What a glorious sight that would be!”
You have no idea how to respond to that, so you just nod, deciding it’s better not to question Rook’s eccentricity.
Epel Felmier:
Epel thinks you’re kind of cool, actually. You’re nervous all the time, yeah, but you’re also from a strict background and work under pressure constantly. He respects that. Which means he’s decided that you’re his unofficial partner in surviving Vil’s tyranny.
“Hey, c’mon, you don’t need to be that scared of Vil,” Epel says one day, nudging your side as the two of you scrub cauldrons in the alchemy lab. “Sure, he’s scary, but if you just stand up to him once, he’ll back off… probably.”
You glance at Epel, eyes wide. “S-stand up to Vil?! Are you crazy?! I can’t do that! He’ll turn me into a newt or—o-or make me into some kind of fashionable accessory!”
Epel chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, he ain’t that bad. You just gotta show him you’ve got guts. Or at least, like, fake it.”
You swallow hard, ears drooping. “F-faking it sounds risky… What if he notices?”
Epel grins, giving you a thumbs-up. “Then we run. Fast. Like the prey animals we are.”
You blink at him, half-horrified, half-impressed. “You… consider yourself a prey animal?”
Epel shrugs. “Sometimes, yeah. I mean, what else am I gonna do against Vil? Might as well embrace it. Besides, you’re good at dodgin’ people, right? We can make it work.”
You stare at him, processing his words, then sigh in resignation. “I guess we’re in this together then…”
Epel pats your shoulder with a grin. “That’s the spirit! We’re gonna make it through this, bunny style.”
You still have no idea what “bunny style” entails, but you’re willing to trust Epel’s wild plans—for now.
Idia Shroud:
Idia has never related to anyone more in his life. You anxiety is like looking into a jittery, trembling mirror, and for once, Idia is the calm one—relatively speaking.
“W-wait, you have to deliver a message to the Queen?!” Idia whispers, his hair sparking nervously. “That’s like, a total nightmare scenario.”
You nod rapidly, wringing your hands. “Y-yes, but I’m already late, and if I don’t get there soon, it’s off with my head!”
Idia shivers. “No way. I’d rather stay in my room for a thousand years.” He pauses, then adds, “But, um, if you don’t wanna go, maybe… I dunno… we could… not go together?”
You blink at him, your ears twitching at the idea of hiding away instead. “R-really? We can do that?”
He gives you an awkward thumbs-up, his face flushed. “Yeah… like, what’s the worst that could happen? Besides decapitation… but it’s not like anyone would expect me to be brave, right?”
You both glance at Ortho, who’s floating nearby and giving you the biggest, most judgmental sigh he can muster.
“You two need more courage,” Ortho says, shaking his head. “But I’ll help. Let’s make a plan!”
And just like that, your anxiety spirals back into full-on panic.
Ortho Shroud:
Ortho thinks you’re adorable, but he also realizes that you’re a magnet for trouble. So, naturally, he has to make sure you’re safe at all times.
“Good morning!” Ortho beams, floating beside you as you fumble with your basket of letters. “Where are you off to today?”
You twitch slightly, looking over your shoulder. “Oh, um, just delivering some messages… It’s a bit urgent…”
Ortho smiles, activating his sensors. “No problem! I’ll track your location and help with navigation!”
You blink, unsure if you should be relieved or more nervous. “T-track my location?”
Ortho nods cheerfully, a holographic map popping up. “Yup! We can’t have you getting lost in the rose maze again. Remember last time? You were stuck for hours!”
Your ears droop, embarrassed. “I-it’s not my fault everything looks the same…”
“Not to worry!” Ortho reassures. “I’ll make sure you’re in and out in no time! Plus, if you faint from fear, I can carry you.”
The thought of Ortho hauling you over his shoulder while Riddle scolds you is somehow even scarier than getting lost.
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus has never met someone so jittery around him—and that’s saying something. He finds it… oddly endearing.
“Good evening, Child of Man,(Hare(?))” Malleus greets, his deep voice echoing through the hallway.
You jump about a foot in the air, your ears standing straight up. “L-Lord Malleus! I-I didn’t see you there!”
Malleus tilts his head, clearly confused. “I was standing right in the middle of the hall.”
You gulp, trying not to show your terror. “S-sorry! I just, um, wasn’t expecting—um—dragons are very quiet, apparently!”
Malleus raises an eyebrow, then smiles, showing just a hint of fang. “I assure you, I have no intention of frightening you.”
You nod rapidly, ears still trembling. “O-of course, Your Highness! I mean, who’s scared? Not me! Totally fine! Super relaxed!”
Malleus chuckles, and the sound is somehow both amused and terrifying. “You truly are quite… peculiar.”
You have no idea if that’s a compliment or an insult, but you nod like it’s the greatest praise in the world. “T-thank you, Lord Malleus.”
Lilia Vanrouge:
Lilia finds you endlessly amusing. He likes to see just how much he can tease you before you pass out from fright.
“Hello, little rabbit,” Lilia says, appearing out of *nowhere* like he always does.
You squeak, nearly dropping your stack of paperwork. “A-ah! L-Lilia! P-please don’t sneak up on me like that!”
He grins, fangs peeking out. “Oh, but it’s so much fun. You jump every time, like a startled bunny.”
You frown, puffing your cheeks out indignantly, but it only makes you look cuter. “I-I can’t help it! I’m just… easily startled.”
Lilia nods sagely, pretending to consider your words. “Perhaps I should warn you next time? Though that might take away all the fun…”
You gulp, trying to decide if he’s joking or not. “P-please do…”
He laughs, patting your head affectionately. “I make no promises, little one. Just stay on your toes!”
Silver:
Silver finds your constant panic a little concerning, but mostly, it makes him tired just watching you.
You find Silver leaning against a tree, dozing off like usual. “Um, Silver? A-aren’t you supposed to be training?”
Silver blinks awake, giving you a sleepy smile. “Oh, hello. Training? Right, yes, I was. I… took a short rest.”
You fidget, eyes darting around nervously. “W-well, um, I don’t want to interrupt… but could you help me? I think I lost the Queen’s letter again.”
Silver nods slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Of course. But first, you need to breathe. You’re more jittery than the dormouse.”
You force a shaky breath in, nodding. “R-right. Breathe. I can do that.”
Silver gives you a thumbs-up. “Good. Just stay calm. We’ll find it together.”
And then he promptly falls asleep again.
You stare at him, exasperated. “S-Silver?!”
Sebek Zigvolt:
Sebek is flabbergasted by your lack of composure. It drives him nuts—but also, he thinks you’re kind of adorable, like a helpless bunny.
“YOU!” Sebek bellows, making you flinch so hard you almost trip over yourself. “HOW CAN YOU BE THIS INCOMPETENT?!”
You cringe, clutching your ears. “I-I’m sorry! I’m trying my best, I swear!”
Sebek huffs, crossing his arms. “YOUR BEST IS BARELY ADEQUATE! YOU MUST STRIVE FOR PERFECTION, LIKE LORD MALLEUS!”
You gulp, nodding frantically. “R-right! I’ll… I’ll try harder!”
Sebek looks at your terrified face and sighs, his tone softening just a bit. “FINE, FINE. JUST DON’T MESS UP AGAIN. HERE.”
He hands you the paper you dropped, his ears turning slightly pink. “AND STOP LOOKING SO SCARED. IT’S… DISTRACTING.”
You blink at him, surprised. “D-distracting?”
“YES!” he shouts, clearly flustered. “NOW GO! LORD MALLEUS EXPECTS PERFECTION!”
You scurry away, leaving Sebek to mutter to himself, face flushed. “Such a weak little rabbit…”
Rollo Flamme:
Rollo tries so hard not to be charmed by you, really. He doesn’t like distractions, and you’re the most distracting bunny he’s ever met.
“Are you lost again?” Rollo asks with a sigh, watching as you nervously peek around a corner.
You jump, ears twitching. “O-oh, Rollo! I was just, um… trying to find the courtyard…”
Rollo pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve passed it three times already.”
You fumble with your hands, embarrassment turning your face pink. “I-I was just… making sure it was the right one…”
Rollo looks at your big, earnest eyes and sighs again, softer this time. “You’re hopeless,” he mutters. Then, reluctantly, he reaches for your hand, leading you back the way you came. “Come on. I can’t leave you wandering around all day.”
You follow behind him, ears drooping. “S-sorry…”
Rollo shakes his head, not even looking back. “Just try not to get lost again.”
You can’t help but smile a little. “I-I’ll try.”
Neige LeBlanche:
Neige thinks you’re the cutest thing ever. He’s the kind of person who immediately wants to be friends with you, especially because you look so nervous all the time.
“Hello!” Neige waves, beaming at you from across the way.
You blink, startled. “O-oh, um… hello, Neige…”
Neige practically skips over to you, his smile never faltering. “Are you okay? You look a little lost.”
You nod rapidly, trying not to be intimidated by his energy. “Y-yes, I’m fine! Just a little… um…”
“Aw, don’t worry!” Neige says, giving you an encouraging pat on the back. “You’ve got this! I believe in you!”
You stare at him, completely baffled. “You… you do?”
Neige nods earnestly. “Of course! And if you need any help, just let me know, okay? I’ll be your bunny buddy!”
Your ears twitch at the nickname, and you manage a shaky smile. “O-okay… Thank you, Neige.”
Dire Crowley:
Crowley finds your constant worrying both exhausting and oddly entertaining. He’s never seen anyone so concerned about breaking every single rule.
“Ah, You!” Crowley calls out, catching you just as you’re about to dash off with a stack of paperwork. “Do you have the reports I asked for?”
You freeze, turning to him with wide eyes. “R-reports? Oh no, I—I thought I delivered those to Professor Trein!”
Crowley sighs dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead. “Of course, of course. Why must I be surrounded by such incompetent students?”
You fidget, looking down at your feet. “I-I’m sorry, Headmaster… I’ll go get them right away—”
Crowley waves a hand dismissively. “No, no, I suppose it can wait. You do look like you’re about to pass out from all the running.”
Your ears droop, and you mumble, “I-I’m not… I’m just… very busy…”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, do try not to collapse before lunch, won’t you? I can’t have students fainting in my halls.”
You nod, scurrying away. Crowley watches you go, muttering to himself, “Honestly, there's no one more magnanimous than me…”
Divus Crewel:
Crewel is exasperated by your anxious behavior. He wants you to be confident, but instead, you’re always shaking in your boots.
“[Name], if you can’t handle a simple potion assignment, how do you expect to survive in this world?” Crewel says, his tone sharp as he points at your cauldron.
You gulp, ears twitching. “I-I’m sorry, Professor… I just, um, thought I might have put too much wormroot…”
Crewel raises an eyebrow. “Too much? Or not enough? Make up your mind, pup.”
Your eyes widen, and you flinch. “R-right! I-I mean, um, not enough—no, wait…”
Crewel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is hopeless.” Then, with a softer tone, he adds, “Focus. You can do this, but not if you keep second-guessing every move.”
You take a deep breath, nodding. “Y-yes, Professor.”
Crewel watches as you go back to your work, and though he doesn’t say it, there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”
Mozus Trein:
Trein is generally strict, but even he can’t bring himself to be too harsh with you. Your anxious nature reminds him of some of his more timid students in the past.
“You’re late to class again,” Trein says, giving you a stern look.
You flinch, clutching your bag close. “I-I’m so sorry, Professor… I got lost in the halls again…”
Trein sighs, shaking his head. “You’ve been here long enough to know the way, haven’t you?”
You nod, ears drooping. “Y-yes, sir… I just… it’s the Queen’s court day, and I was trying to avoid… um…”
Trein raises an eyebrow, his expression softening slightly. “Avoid the Queen’s wrath, hm?” He nods, as if understanding completely. “Well, see that it doesn’t happen again. And try to relax. You won’t learn anything if you’re always in a state of panic.”
You bow deeply, almost knocking over your desk in the process. “Y-yes, Professor Trein! Thank you!”
Trein sighs as you scurry to your seat, muttering to himself, “Poor child… so much anxiety…”
Ashton Vargas:
Vargas can’t help but laugh at your feeble attempts at physical activity. You’re about as coordinated as a baby deer—and just as panicked.
“Alright, everyone! Time for a run around the track!” Vargas shouts, blowing his whistle.
You gulp, your ears already drooping at the thought of running. “U-um, Professor Vargas, I’m not sure I’m… physically… capable…”
Vargas claps you on the back, nearly sending you sprawling. “Nonsense! Every beastman’s got it in them! Even you, little bunny!”
You try to protest, but he’s already started the timer. You stumble forward, your legs shaky, and you can hear Vargas laughing from behind.
“Look at that! The rabbit is really running for their life!” Vargas calls out, and the whole class turns to watch you struggle around the track.
You feel your face burn, but you keep running, heart pounding. It’s either run or face Vargas’s motivational speeches again, and honestly, you’re not sure which is worse.
Sam:
Sam loves seeing you in his shop, mostly because you’re so jumpy it’s easy to sneak up on you—unintentionally, of course. He finds your reactions amusing.
“Hello, hello!” Sam calls out as you walk into his shop, and you jump about a foot in the air.
“Ah—M-Mister Sam! I-I didn’t see you there!” you stammer, clutching your chest like your heart might leap out.
Sam laughs, leaning over the counter. “You’re always so jittery, little bunny. Relax! I’ve got just the thing to calm those nerves…” He pulls out a small vial of something labeled “Relaxation Remedy.”
You eye the bottle suspiciously. “Um… t-that’s not… gonna put me to sleep, is it?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Not unless you drink the whole bottle, friend.” He winks. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, y’know?”
You nod, still unsure but grateful. “T-thank you… I’ll, um… take one, I guess…”
Sam smiles, putting the vial in a bag for you. “No problem, little imp. Come back if you need more!”
You nod, scurrying out of the shop. Sam watches you leave, shaking his head with a grin. “That one’s gonna give themselves a heart attack one day…”
Grim:
Grim likes to think he’s the bravest in the group, but even he can see you’re worse off than him in the bravery department. He likes to boss you around, mostly to feel better about himself.
“Oi, bunny!” Grim shouts, jumping onto your desk. “You got my homework done yet?”
You squeak, nearly toppling out of your chair. “Y-your homework?! Grim, I—I can’t keep doing your work for you…”
Grim pouts, waving a paw at you. “Oh, come on! You’re already nervous all the time—what’s a little extra stress, huh?”
You huff, fidgeting with your pen. “G-Grim, I’m already at my limit! I-I’ve got the Queen’s orders, and Riddle’s rules, and now you want me to—”
Grim interrupts, hopping closer and giving you a smug grin. “Yeah, yeah, I get it, you’re a busy bunny. But you know, if you help me, I’ll… uh, protect you from any monsters! Yeah, how about that?”
You blink, considering it. “P-protect me? From monsters?”
Grim nods, puffing out his chest. “Yup! I’m the Great Grim, after all! I’m basically a professional monster hunter.”
You stare at him, unsure, your ears slowly drooping. “I-I guess… that would be helpful…”
Grim smirks, satisfied. “See? I knew you’d come around!” He jumps off your desk, tail flicking with glee. “Alright, I’ll be back later to pick up my homework. Make sure it’s perfect, okay?”
You sigh, watching him strut away. “H-how did I even get myself into this…?”
Grim doesn’t hear you, already daydreaming about what snack he’ll demand from you next. “It’s good to be the boss,” he mutters, chuckling to himself.
You slump in your seat, wondering if there would ever come a day when you’re not running around doing everyone’s bidding. But then again, you think, maybe that’s just the fate of a White Rabbit…
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#riddle x reader#trey x reader#cater x reader#ace x reader#deuce x reader#leona x reader#ruggie x reader#jack x reader#azul x reader#floyd x reader#jade x reader#kalim x reader#jamil x reader#vil x reader#rook x reader#epel x reader#idia x reader#ortho shroud#malleus x reader#lilia x reader#silver x reader#sebek x reader#rollo x reader#neige leblanche#nrc staff#grim
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Okay so, one of my problems with creator boundaries as an event runner is that it's impossible to keep up with them all, because they're being updated, and because so much of the time you learn them when they're reported to you, you weren't in stream yourself. So it's a game of telephone, and there's a constant issue that the message gets garbled in translation.
So the stance that I've taken as an event runner is that I will not be enforcing boundaries, and everyone can decide for themselves what relationships they're comfortable with. This seemed like the best stance for me to deal with the beeduo /p /r wars, and then I have continued to see many other smaller or larger instances where I've gone "yeah, enforcing creators boundaries as an event mod is a nonstarter, I'm sticking with that".
And I've been mostly concerned about issues like— I am not an avid watcher of Gem streams! I might miss things that happen in Gem streams, I don't know what the creator's exact boundaries are for what's okay to do in her vision. But meanwhile I've been over here in Phil streams, and I've assumed that I have known Phil's boundaries, because they get repeated SO MUCH. Everybody knows— no nsfw, and then we argue about if the only shipping allowed is with Mumza (the dsmp stance) or if his continued gay flirting with men on QSMP means he's okay with shipping with them (he kissed a man on camera on QSMP, for example). That is the received wisdom about Phil's boundaries, we all know where we stand and how we're interpreting things.
And I have been like okay, Phil doesn't want to see NSFW, I don't think he's reading my Ao3 history, maybe I will read the occasional pissa fic for fun. There are some good fics in the tag, you know. I will just keep it out of his sight, and the streamer doesn't have to know, right?
Cut to today, where I'm being kicked out of a discord server for bookmarking one (1) Phil NSFW fic. They sent me a clip to prove that NSFW was against the rules and why I was getting kicked. So I watched the clip in the interest of completeness.
flickr
And guys, when I tell you my jaw fucking dropped, because I do NOT agree that anyone should have asked the streamer this, but someone got him to talk about NSFW fan work, "weirdchamp shit", and he explicitly with his mouth says that he "could not give a shit" and "everybody lets out their creativity in different ways", and "ultimately it isn't hurting anybody", and as long as he doesn't see it, he's fine with it. As long as it's kept out of his stream he's fine.
So uh, guys? I know it's not like we haven't been cautiously creeping this way ourselves, just keeping it out of the streamer's sight, but explicitly, word of god from the streamer, I think Phil NSFW has been legal this whole time.
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Chapter 66 of that fic about human Bill but he's not in this chapter so forget about him: Ford and Dipper go cryptid hunting!
This is pretty much a standalone chapter so if somehow you stumbled on this without seeing the rest of the fic, u can just, read it by itself as a standalone Dipper and Ford adventure. It's funny. Promise.
####
The camera turned on to reveal Dipper, illuminated sunset orange and cast in heavy shadows, holding the camera out at arm's length. "Welcome back to Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained, anomaly #175: the Fremont Nightwigglers!" He held up a paper title card in his free hand. "I'm Dipper Pines, and today I'm honored to introduce our special guest star—" he turned the camera around to focus on Ford from behind, "—the one and only Dr. Stanford Pines, PhD times twelve—"
Ford laughed self-consciously. "Dipper, nobody's going to recognize my name outside of a few highly specialized academic fields—"
"—the scientist who developed the Theory of Weirdness—"
"That paper isn't even ready for peer review yet, and I can't take all the credit—"
"—and the coolest dimension-hopping monster-fighting mystery-investigating great uncle in the world!"
Ford paused thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll take that one."
"Tonight, we're on the trail of the Fremont Nightwigglers." The recording cut to CCTV footage from a much higher-budget cryptid-hunting show (which Dipper had recorded by aiming the camera at the TV). The footage showed two marshmallow-like creatures that seemed to consist solely of heads, long legs, and feet—smooth, ghostly white, and featureless except for black eyes. They wore denim jeans that covered their bodies from ankles to waists, and their legs seemed to bend jointlessly, like an octopus's arms or an elephant's trunk. "These weird armless creatures have been seen up and down the west coast states, leaving behind a wave of jeans thefts at clothing stores; but by the time local law enforcement has ruled out any human suspects, the true culprits are always long gone."
The recording cut back to Dipper, who'd taken the lead so he could turn around the camera and aim it at both himself and Ford. "Based on investigative research done by Dr. Pines in the 80s, we believe the Nightwigglers have a migratory route several years long that passes through California, Oregon, Washington, and Canada. More research is needed to find out if they travel as far as Alaska or Mexico. Locals believe each Nightwiggler creates an individual burrow around a communal gathering spot to hide in during the day, and at night they assemble in the communal spot to travel or forage in nearby towns."
Ford threw in, "Based on what the townspeople told me about their habits, they've been in Gravity Falls much longer than usual. It typically takes them a week or two to pass through the area, but this year there have been sightings for more than a month. Perhaps we'll find out why."
"And thanks to a hot tip from an in-the-know local"—the recording cut to a few seconds of footage of Wendy proving she could do a handstand on the split-rail fence around the Mystery Shack—"we know which assembly spot they're currently camping around! Tonight, we're trying to get the first deliberate footage of a Nightwiggler..." Dipper lowered the camera and turned toward Ford, "Hey, what'll we call a group of them? A flock? Herd? Meeting? If we're the first investigators to officially document the species, we get to come up with the name , right?"
Ford considered the question. "What about a wobble of Nightwigglers? Since their legs are so... wobbly."
"Sure, that works."
"Is this really your 175th episode?" Ford asked. "I've missed quite a few."
"Ye—well..." Dipper lowered the camera. It recorded his shoes as he walked. "So far I've got a list of 175 anomalies I want to do an episode on, but I've only recorded and posted thirty-something. I think you've seen them all except the two I've done this summer." He sighed. "I'm... kinda disappointed by it, honestly."
"Why? You should be proud of your work so far! You're the only person in the world who's caught footage of the Hide Behind."
"By accident."
"Because you learned how to identify its call, chased it through half the forest, and were prepared with the right equipment to record it. That wasn't luck, Dipper—that was your hard work."
"I guess," Dipper said grudgingly. "I just... wanted to have a lot more produced by now."
"Wh—You started these last June? That's about one every two weeks. That's a very impressive output."
"I made most of them last summer, I hardly did any over the last school year or this summer."
"You've been focusing on your studies, that's good."
"Yeah, but what about this summer? All I've done so far is borrow some of Robbie's music video footage to make an episode about zombies and record some footage I haven't edited yet about Pacifica's alpaca thief. I didn't even get any footage of the haunted doll crane game before it disappeared. Most of the time I've been just... hiding in Soos's room playing Bloodcraft: Overdeath"—(under his breath Ford muttered "Blood-craft over death?")—"or hanging out with Wendy and her friends, or helping Soos with the Mystery Shack, or just trying to avoid..." He trailed off, suddenly conscious of the camera still aimed at the ground. It had started recording footprints drying in the mud after the recent rain: soft indents like the pads of paws, but with no distinct toes, about the size and length of human feet. Dipper lifted the camera to better record the trail they were walking down.
"Well... there's nothing wrong with taking a break during the summer," Ford said. "Especially considering that your last summer was... quite a bit more exciting than most kids'—"
"That's just it!" Dipper said. "Last summer I did so much! I investigated your disappearance, I filled half of your third journal, I helped stop the apocalypse, I wrote a book with Mabel about solving mysteries and doing fun stuff, I recorded like twenty Guides to the Unknown... Compared to that, this summer I feel like I'm—falling behind."
"Falling behind what?"
"I don't know. But—I just—I... feel like..." He trailed off with a frustrated sigh. "I don't know."
Ford offered, "Maybe, like you're not living up to your own potential?"
"Yes! That's it," Dipper said. "I'm not trying to grow up too fast, I'm just worried I'll grow up before I've done all the stuff I'm supposed to do now. Like I'm already running out of time."
"Hmm..." Ford let out a long, thoughtful sigh. "Dipper, I'm probably the wrong person to be giving this advice, considering that I'm not exactly... the paragon of moderation when it comes to pursuing professional ambitions. But—remember that you're only thirteen. Right now, you don't need to be worried about graduating valedictorian and starting up an anomaly-hunting show and doing groundbreaking research into previously-unknown strange and wondrous creatures," Ford said. "You just need to focus on graduating valedictorian first. That's all I did with my high school years, and after that I still managed to rack up multiple PhDs before age 30. You've got plenty of time!" He said this with the confidence of a man who didn't realize having his life derailed by a manipulative alien villain was the only reason he didn't burn out hard by 1984. "Outside of that, just... worry about being a kid."
"Yeah. I guess you're right. Thanks, Grunkle Ford," Dipper said. "I keep worrying, though. I keep thinking, what if I'm wasting all my time on stuff that... just... doesn't matter? What if nothing I'm doing is actually important?"
Ford was silent a moment. "That's... a very existential question for your age. How long have you been worrying—"
Dipper hissed, "Grunkle Ford!" He jerked his camera up. "Is that fire?!" There was a faint orange glow in the distance between the trees.
"I think it is!"
Dipper whispered, "That's where I found the Nightwigglers' abanadoned campsite last time!"
"Did you see any signs that they knew how to start fires? Remains of a campfire?"
"I didn't notice anything."
"It could be a Scampfire..."
As quietly as they could, Dipper and Ford edged through the trees, Dipper all the while pointing the camera toward the light, until they found a narrow gap between two trees from which they could peer into the clearing.
There were three or four dozen Nightwigglers milling about in little clusters. Several had lit torches—sturdy sticks with the ends wrapped in fabric—which they carried by sticking the ends of the torches into their jeans' pockets.
"Dipper, look at the tops of their torches," Ford hissed. "Is that shredded denim?"
The camera zoomed in on the nearest torchbearing Nightwiggler. "I think so."
"We already knew they wore clothing—but they can make tools, too? How advanced are they..."
Ford trailed off as the clustered Nightwigglers separated, spreading out evenly into several rings. As the camera recorded, they began emitting a synchronized muffled humming; and then they began dancing, kicking their legs and turning in circles together. "Whoa," Dipper whispered. "Is this some kind of ritual?"
"What's its purpose?" Ford whispered back. "Recreation? Religion? Some sort of cultural event—?"
"Hold on. I think I recognize the song."
Ford and Dipper fell silent, watching in silence as the dance repeated a couple of times.
The Nightwigglers were doing the Hokey Pokey.
"Fascinating." The camera lurched sideways, and then turned toward Ford. Ford had stolen Dipper's journal from out of his vest pocket and was hastily taking notes on a blank page. "I had no idea Nightwiggler culture was so influenced by human culture. An hour ago, we didn't even know Nightwigglers have a culture. When could they have observed and learned the Hokey Pokey? It's not exactly a nighttime dance—do they spy on humans during the day?"
Dipper said, "What if we learned the dance from Nightwigglers?"
Ford stopped writing, looked up, and stared at Dipper, mind blown.
Dipper jerked the camera back toward the Nightwigglers as they filed out of the clearing. "Hey! Where are they going now?"
Dipper and Ford waited until the last Nightwiggler had left; and then they quietly followed.
####
After several minutes of silence except for the sound of footsteps, Ford said, "Are we headed toward Mabel's Fault?"
Dipper groaned. "I got enough of this place last week."
"Agreed."
"Hey, you know Bill said we should rename it 'Bill's Fault'?"
Ford huffed. "Did he really? I don't believe it."
"Yeah. He tried to play it off like, 'oOOoh, I just want creEDit—'"
"That sounds like him—"
They came to a stop as the camera spied the Nightwigglers standing in the clearing around the fault, then they quickly moved off the path into the brush and crept closer. "What are they doing?" Dipper asked as they inched up to the tree line.
"I don't know—they're packed too tightly together for me to see."
"I've got an idea. Hold this." The camera bounced as Dipper passed it to Ford, who watched as Dipper climbed up one of the pine trees around the clearing.
"Careful! There aren't a lot of low branches that can hold your weight."
"It's okay, Wendy showed me how to do this." Dipper held out his hand for the camera.
Ford passed it up to him. "What do you see?"
The camera foused on Mabel's Fault. "The Nightwigglers closest to the fault are taking off their jeans, ripping them into two separate legs, and... tossing them in the fault? Have you ever heard of this?"
"Never."
"Like a dozen have done it so far."
"Perhaps that's why they have to steal so many pairs of pants? But why..."
Dipper gasped. Tiny Nightwigglers had begun squirming out of the fault, each wearing a single denim pant leg, crawling around like inchworms with half the pant leg trailing behind them. The bigger Nightwigglers picked up the little ones with their feet and swaddled them in the excess fabric. "They're—I think they're baby Nightwigglers! Coming out of the fault!"
"Amazing! Is this how they reproduce?" Ford asked. "Is that why they travel the west coast—are they following the San Andreas Fault and the volcanoes in the Pacific Northwest?"
"Maybe that's why they've been in town so long," Dipper said. "Mabel's Fault wasn't here the last time they passed through."
"We'll have to find out what other towns they stay in the longest. How far is Fremont from the fault line—?"
"Hey," Dipper said, "A bunch more Nightwigglers took their jeans off. They're tying them in a circle." One of the torchbearer Nightwigglers knelt down and bowed forward, setting the jeans ring on fire; and it was tossed into the fault. The Nightwigglers that weren't carrying infants formed a circle and began Hokey Pokeying toward the fault.
"That definitely looks like a ritual," Ford said, "but why? To celebrate the births...?"
The ground rumbled. Dipper gasped and slipped several feet down the tree before he caught himself. When he refocused the camera, Mabel's Fault was several feet wider, and a fiery glow was rising up from within.
An enormous Nightwiggler, fifteen feet tall, climbed out of the fault. It wore a crown of flaming denim and tattered pants formed by stitching together many pairs of decades-old jeans. The Nightwigglers bowed down.
"Good lord," Ford breathed. "What is that? Did they summon it, or—or was it always down there?"
The giant Nightwiggler watched regally as its subjects danced around it. As they spun around and completed another repetition of the Hokey Pokey—that's what it's all a-BOUT—the giant punctuated the end of the dance with a ground-shaking stomp.
Dipper lost his grip on the tree. He and the camera crashed to the ground with a yelp.
"Dipper! Are you alright?!"
"Ow... fine, probably just bruised."
The camera caught Ford kneeling to help Dipper sit up, and then Dipper grabbed the camera again as he stood. He pointed it back at the clearing.
Every single Nightwiggler, babies and giant included, was staring at them with wide black eyes.
Ford said, "Uh oh."
The giant let out a bellow like a muffled hunting horn.
The Nightwigglers charged.
Dipper and Ford ran away through the brush, screaming.
####
Dipper pointed the camera at his face. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks and arms were covered in small branch scrapes. "Still works," he reported to Ford.
"Great," Ford said. "That thing's hardy."
The camera jerked as Dipper tried to set it on a tree stump.
"Well, we got away with our lives," he said. "But... not without some losses."
He got the camera settled and backed up. He was wearing his vest zipped up around his hips like a skirt. Ford's trench coat was conspicuously buttoned up, and his legs were bare between his coat and boots. They both looked sheepish.
Ford said, "We've acquired some invaluable anthropological data, though."
"I'm calling this investigation a triumph," Dipper said.
Ford offered a hand. "High six!"
In the background, a skinny-legged Nightwiggler wearing Dipper's shorts darted through the trees.
####
(It's about time Dipper get a little personal attention. Hope you enjoyed and I look forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!)
#dipper pines#grunkle ford#stanford pines#gravity falls#gravity falls fic#gravity falls fanart#fanart#my art#my writing#bill goldilocks cipher
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Pool Pitstop | C² Boys
Request: You know…there’s something about this ad Maybe Carlos n Charles splitting reader open on the pool table?
Summary: Charles and Carlos enter your bar right when you were ready to start closing, but instead of becoming frustrated, it might've just made your night.
Warnings: 18+ smut, threesome, oral, unprotected sex, choking, fingering.
Pairing: carlos x fem!reader x charles
wc: 4.1k
You looked at the clock hung up on the wall, sighing in relief as the last person left. You only had a few minutes til you could start closing, and for the first time since you became the owner of this bar, you would actually leave on time.
You picked up the glasses left on the countertop and turned around to place them in the sink when you heard the front door bell jingle, indicating someone's arrival.
Turning around, you were just about to tell the person that you were closing the bar, however your words got stuck in your throat as you looked at the two men who entered.
There was no doubt that they were attractive, but due to your silence after looking at them, one of them began to sit down on the barstool while the other stood behind him.
The one who was still standing looked around, noticing the lack of people around and decided to ask, "is this place still open?" You noticed his accent, telling you that he wasn't from around here. It sounded similar to French, but you could be wrong considering the only 'accent' you knew were the fake ones people tried once they were drunk out of their minds.
The corner of your lip turned up, at least he had the common decency to ask, and just for that you nodded. "Honestly I was about to start closing, but take a seat."
The man who was standing finally decided to sit beside his friend. "Oh good, every other bar in the area was closed." He explained, a smile gracing his lips revealing dimples, which you just newly discovered you had a weak spot for.
You raised an eyebrow in question, "it is nearing two in the morning, you guys should've been out earlier in the evening."
"We're just passing by, making a short pitstop before we're back on the road." The other man spoke, his accent was different telling you that neither men were from around here.
"Well which one of you is driving?" You asked, not wanting to be responsible for a drunk driver. The one with the dimples pointed to the other man, "Carlos' driving, he doesn't think I'm good enough," he says with an exaggerated eye roll.
Carlos shrugged, "well I hate being the passenger, but Charles' on-road driving skills are questionable," he explained to you, earning another eye roll from Charles.
You chuckled at their antics, settling your palms on the countertop. "What will you have, Charles?"
His smile returned to his face and he thought for a moment, "a Moscow mule, please." You nodded, and started gathering the ingredients to make the drink.
"And you, Carlos, anything non-alcoholic?" You asked, not wanting to leave him out but he shook his head.
Carlos' eyes wandered around the bar, eyes widening in surprise when he spotted the pool table in the back corner.
While Charles was casually speaking to you, or as Carlos would describe it; using his charm, the Spaniard decided to walk towards the pool table.
Picking up the cue, he turned to look at Charles with a playful smile on his face. "Charlito, do you want to play?"
Charles looks at him for a moment before turning back to face you with raised eyebrows, silently questioning if they were allowed to play.
You set his drink down in front of him and nodded, "you can play."
He didn't budge, "are you sure? I don't want to keep you here too long." You bit your lip to hide your smile, "yes, I need to clean up anyways and that'll take a while so you two can stay until then."
Fortunately, none of your staff were present; otherwise, they would have poked fun at you about allowing Charles and Carlos to stay when you used to enforce the rule of no stragglers after two.
Charles picks up his drink, takes a sip and hums in agreement before walking over to Carlos.
The boys set up the game, and laughter is quickly heard thought out the bar making your ears perk up at the sound. You watch them from behind the bar, resting your elbows on the countertop, almost forgetting about needing to clean up.
You had a clear view of the pool table from where you stood, watching the men closely, specifically Carlos as he held the cue, about to make his shot.
Slightly leaning over the pool table, Carlos has positioned the cue stick but before he moved an inch, his eyes met yours. For some reason, he didn't look surprised, as if he knew you would be watching them.
Your eyes slightly widened as he gave you a small smirk, his gaze almost turning seductive before he focused his attention back to the game.
You didn't even pay attention to the actual game, because your gaze kept moving back and forth between the two men. Although Carlos caught you looking, Charles was completely oblivious to the tension growing in the room between you and his teammate.
The only reason you didn't shift your gaze away from Carlos is because his eyes were also on you. He was anything but shy, not looking away causing your cheeks to heat up under his unfaltering attention.
The only thing that broke him out of the little bubble he created with you were Charles' giggles. He was holding the cue stick, failing to hide his mischievous grin.
Carlos looked at him in confusion before looking down at the table, and laughed. "Charles, mate, you cheated."
All of Charles' solid pool balls were pocketed while only the striped ones remained. "That's bullshit, I didn't cheat," Charles was offended but if it wasn't for a small smile he failed to hide, you would've thought he was telling the truth.
You smiled for a moment before turning around, hearing the men bicker in a foreign language you didn't understand. You mentally scolded yourself for easily becoming distracted by the two men in your bar—two very attractive men.
You had just started your mental checklist of things to get done before leaving when you heard Carlos' voice call your name—which he spotted earlier on the name tag on your shirt. "Can you watch Charles to make sure he doesn't cheat?" He looked at the individual in question with a harsh expression before returning his eyes to you.
You let out a laugh once you realized Carlos was serious, "you want me to watch him?" You looked at Charles who shrugged, "I didn't cheat, I don't know what he's talking about."
Carlos gave Charles a look, and it was all he needed to do for Charles to agree with him. "Fine, judge our pool skills."
Carlos moved around to reset the game, but Charles was intently looking at you, waiting for an answer. You nodded once before wiping your hands on the nearest towel, "sure."
You knew you wouldn't be able to focus on your task with them around, so you might as well just join them.
The Spaniard set the last ball in the triangle rack before looking up at you with the same smirk he gave you earlier, as if he knew you wouldn't turn them down.
You stood beside Carlos as you both watched Charles break, and since you were supposed to "keep an eye" on Charles, you decided against looking at Carlos. However you could still feel his gaze on you.
"If you keep looking at me, Charles would be able to cheat again," you told him while looking ahead so you didn't see his expression. But you did hear his chuckle, "I can't seem to take my eyes off you."
You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling, but it was nice to hear the compliment from him, even if you barely knew him.
Charles passed the cue to Carlos, and taking his place to stand next to you. Although you willed yourself to look away from Carlos when Charles was playing, you couldn't help but admire the latter, especially as he was standing so close to you.
Either he didn't acknowledge your stares or he did but chose not to comment on it, but it was his turn again. However once Carlos passed the cue stick to him, Charles held it out towards you.
"Be my lucky shot," he stated once you raised your brow in question and Carlos shook his head unable to let him by without commenting, "we all know you need some luck."
Instead of taking the stick from his hand, you grabbed some chalk and rubbed it on the tip while maintaining eye contact with Charles. He didn't say anything but his gaze wandered down your face, passing the seemingly innocent smile before watching your hand grab the cue to play.
You snuck a little smirk directed at Carlos before steadying your feet and slightly bending over the table to get in position. You couldn't tell if both their gazes landed on your ass, but you hoped it did.
You carefully focused on your aim, striking the cue ball and sinking in two solids in adjacent pockets. Turning around with a smile on your face, you saw Charles' smile just as big but Carlos didn't look too happy as he wasn't close to winning anymore.
"Keep playing, sweetheart," Charles commented, unaffected by the use of the nickname but you heard it loud and clear. You walked towards the other side of the table to get a better shot but the move also put you right in front of the two men.
While Charles was still rooting for you, he and Carlos focused on you a little more than on your aim. They weren't watching you play, they were watching you.
The thought made you nervous, but you couldn't help but look up before you made the shot. Carlos was intensely staring at you while Charles' tongue was barely peeking out between his lips, making you lose your focus completely.
You hit the cue ball but missed pocketing the solid, and if you were asked about it, you would blame them for it.
"Is your luck running low?" Carlos teased as you passed him the cue stick while rolling your eyes. "If my luck was running low, I wouldn't have two men walk into my bar right before closing."
Carlos nodded with a teasing smile on his face and moved to play his turn. You stood beside Charles, resting your palm on the edge of the table while looking at Carlos the same way he was at you.
"The way you're staring is making it hard to concentrate on the game," Carlos commented before tilting his head up to look at you.
"Do you really want to concentrate on the game?" You asked slightly teasing, making your intentions very obvious by your tone.
"What would you rather want me to concentrate on?" Carlos stood up straight, forgetting about playing the game as he rounded the table to stand in front of you.
"She wants all the attention on herself," Charles spoke, then added, "am I wrong?" He asked for good measure, but the smile on his face told you that he had idea of what you'd say.
"Well I think of it as you guys want my attention on both of you," you remarked, avoiding the ploy they tried to lure you into.
Carlos took a step back, resting against the pool table behind him, but he was still staring at you. He made brief eye contact with Charles before nodding towards you. With two fingers raised, he motioned for you to come closer to him.
You easily slotted yourself between Carlos' slightly spread legs, and one of his hands rested on your hip while the other pushed back a strand of hair.
Not even a moment later, you felt the heat of Charles' body right behind you. The two men had you right where they wanted you, sandwiched between them.
You felt Charles move your hair to the side, lightly pecking his lips against your shoulder. You quickly tangled your fingers in his hair, preventing him from moving away. He smiled against your shoulder, before looking at Carlos whose gaze was stuck on the way your facial expressions changed.
"What do you say, Carlos, let's thank her for letting us stay past closing?" He asked, trailing his fingers down your sides before settling them on your waist.
You could feel the heat of both their hands seeping through your shirt. Looking at Carlos expectantly, waiting for him to do or say something.
"Do you want that?" he asked, making your eyes twinkle with excitement and anticipation. You nodded, "I want you both to fuck me on this table."
Carlos' hand moved to your cheek before he stepped closer and placed his lips on yours. You quite literally melted into the kiss. Leaning your body against his while your free hand ran through his hair before settling on the nape of his neck.
Your other hand was still occupied in Charles' hair but you didn't move it away, knowing that you wanted both men. You felt his grip tighten on your waist, and he stepped even closer so you not only felt the heat of his body radiating towards yours, but he was fully pressed against you.
While Carlos began kissing down the length of your neck, Charles' hands wandered upwards towards your chest, stopping right when he grazed your nipples over your shirt. They quickly turned into stiff peaks with Charles' attention, poking through the fabric of your bralette underneath your form fitting shirt.
"Charles," you gasped once he pinched your nipples, smirking in satisfaction of how your body reacted under his touch. Carlos nipped at your neck that would surely turn into a mark soon.
You didn't know where to focus, and to think this was just the beginning of what they would do to you together, your mind couldn't comprehend it but you were very eager to know.
Carlos' hands moved to your ass, teasing the waistband of your jeans. He rounded back to the front, eager to free you from the restraints of denim. You helped him, quickly stepping out of your pants and then in the next moment, Charles lifted the hem of your shirt, wanting that piece of clothing off as well.
Standing there almost completely naked, Charles' hands wandered just about everywhere but Carlos took the smallest step back to undress himself.
As he did so, Charles' tilted your face towards him, claiming your lips with his. There weren't any slow, sensual moves, the kisses were full of need.
You turned around in his grasp, facing him and he let out a muffled moan, liking all the attention on himself. He was completely lost in your kisses so he jolted once your hands found the front of his jeans and palmed his dick.
A sudden slap to your ass pushed you further into Charles, making you gasp. Carlos teased your pussy over your panties, feeling the wetness seep through but he didn't stick around long enough as you'd like.
Your lips parted away from Charles, leaning your head back against Carlos' bare shoulder. He had stripped down to his boxers. "On the table, cariño," he whispered in your ear, making you whine at the nickname.
You sat on the table with your legs hanging off, and Charles was quick to slot himself between your legs. He trailed his fingers up your leg, gripping the flimsy waistband of your underwear. You lifted your hips up so he could slide it down your legs, then he laid his palm on your calves before pushing it back.
You leaned back, resting your palms on the felt material of the pool table as you watched Charles' pupils dilate once you laid yourself all out for him.
Charles pressed his thumb against your clit, making slow circles that had you arching off the table, lifting your hips to chase the pleasure.
You felt Carlos' hands on your shoulders, leaning you back further until you had laid flat on the width of the pool table. You pushed yourself up so your feet were firmly placed on the felt but your head was hanging over the edge.
The Spaniard ran his fingers up and down the length of your throat. He snuck a little pinch on your nipple after seeing how easily you reacted to their touch, before wrapping his fingers around your neck.
Despite the fact that everything around you was upside down, your hands found the waistband of his underwear, and your attention was drawn to his naked chest, especially given how close you were.
You pulled off the last piece of clothing on him, mouth opening once you saw his cock. The perfect width and there was no doubt he was well endowed.
"Open your mouth," Carlos instructed and you couldn't help but oblige. Licking your lips, your hand grasped the base before you pressed a wet kiss on the tip, tasting him on your tongue and instantly knowing that you needed more.
As your mouth was full of Carlos' dick, Charles spread your pussy with his fingers, watching as you desperately clench around nothing. You bucked your hips up when you felt Charles' lips on your pussy. A kiss to your clit but then as if he was hit with uncontrollable hunger, he added his hot tongue and fingers to the mix. Teasing, circling, Charles was on a mission to bring you so close to your release.
Then, as fast as he was able to bring you to the edge, he moved away with only a string of spit connecting you. A tear slipped out the corner of your eye and you attempted to whine. Charles held your thighs down to prevent you from bucking up into him as a poor attempt at continuing what he started.
"Patience, baby," he cooed, unable to look away from your glistening cunt. Then without warning he thrusted in you in one swift motion, making you moan loudly. Well, as loud as you could with your mouth stuffed.
You didn't see his cock but based on how well he was able to stretch your insides, you knew he was just as pretty underneath his jeans as he was above. He wasn't even fully in from that one thrust and he knew you wouldn't be able to take it in one go. He slowly pulled out and went further in until he was nestled against you completely.
More tears pooled in your eyes, and with the two pairs of hands roaming all over your body, the pleasure became too much to pinpoint where it was coming from.
"Fuck, she's so wet," Charles comments, directed towards his teammate which made you writhe in pleasure at how he chose to ignore you. "All for us," Carlos added, tightening his grip on your neck while his other hand held your face still so he could fuck it as he pleased.
Carlos' restriction made you clench around Charles, all three of you letting out moans and groans as the air in the bar became heavy with the smell of sex.
He hooked his fingers in the corners of your mouth, making you drool as you sucked his cock. Sweat built up on your body, your hair tangling up and you were sure you looked really messy but you couldn't care less about it right now.
Charles was still thrusting in and out of your pussy at a brutal pace, and added stimulation on your clit in small quick circles. You wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer.
Once again you were just on the brink of release and mentally begged Charles to let you come undone. He didn't stop. Your orgasm took you under, and for a brief moment you lost any sense of your surroundings, focusing just on the pleasure.
With your head hanging off the table, you were becoming lightheaded and the tears wouldn't stop flowing. Carlos seemed to have noticed this since he couldn't take his gaze off the way his cock was sliding in and out of your mouth.
He slid out, and lifted your head to rest on the table. Since your mouth wasn't occupied, your moans got louder as the final waves of your orgasm washed over you. Neither men tried to conceal them since they began to like the noises you made.
Charles felt his own restrain breaking as he felt you cum around him, and he quickly painted your insides with his cum. He didn't stop the torture on your clit until you tried to shuffle away from him, feeling too sensitive. When he slid out, you clenched on air, but it didn't go unnoticed by Charles. "Still needy?" He questioned with an accusatory ton but there was no malice behind it, just lust.
Carlos tapped your cheek once, "on your hands and knees." He wasn't done with you yet, he didn't orgasm yet and even though he wanted you to swallow every drop of his cum, he wanted to feel your cunt wrapped around him.
As you moved, you felt Charles' cum spill out of you and down your thighs. Your ass was now in the air, facing Carlos. He palmed your ass, spreading it to see the work Charles left behind.
He saw the cum continue to spill out of you but he gathered it on his finger and pushed it back in your cunt. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and the strength of your arms holding you up weakened.
"You want me to fuck Charles' cum back into you?" Carlos asked, his voice laced with lust making his accent even deeper.
You nodded, "yes please, want both of your cum to fill me up."
"Hear that? She's so fucking greedy for our cum," Charles commented, tilting your face upwards and noticing the dried tear marks on your face. He pouted in faux sympathy but it was quickly replaced with a small smirk as he looked at the bruises that began to form on your neck.
Without letting any more of Charles' cum spill out of you, Carlos entered your used and slightly overstimulated cunt. His hands gripped your hips tightly, and you were surely going to see his handprints on your body the next day.
You made eye contact with Charles, but as Carlos kept pumping in and out of you, your eyes threatened to roll back in pleasure. The only reason you didn't was because the monégasque's pretty gaze was on you.
He cupped your cheek and leaned down to press a messy kiss on your lips. You were constantly moved back and forth making it harder to kiss him properly. Charles pulled on your bottom lip, making you groan as Carlos' thrusts intensified.
"Fuck, you're so good for us" Carlos leaned over your frame, his hands roaming around the front of your body. Two of his fingers pinched then circled your clit, making you arch into him.
"Carlos, I-I'm gonna cum," your words threatened to get stuck in your throat, and you just needed him to continue exactly how he was for just a little longer.
"Gonna fill you up," Carlos whispered in your ear but it was loud enough for Charles to hear. The latter slipped his hand down to your throat, making your eyes widen when he pulled you closer and tightened his grip.
You opened your mouth in a silent moan, unable to let out any noise with the amount of pleasure overcoming you. You closed your eyes as you felt Carlos' cum fill you up, mixing with Charles’ already inside you.
Charles released his grip on your throat, and your arms were too weak to hold yourself up so your upper half met the felt on the table, your nipples brushing against it.
Carlos pulled out of you slowly, ensuring that your ass stays in the air. Breathing heavily, you closed your eyes and tried to get yourself together when you felt both their arms pick you up and sit you down on the edge of the table.
They didn't let go, letting your cheek rest against Charles' chest while Carlos brushed his fingers through your hair. Your thighs clenched instinctively as you felt the warm liquid dripping out of you and onto the table underneath.
Charles chuckled, "have fun closing with our cum running down your legs."
"Fuck you," you managed to let out but there wasn't any malice behind those words. "Next time, sweetheart."
You looked up at them both and leaned back on your arms, "does that mean you're going to come again?" Charles and Carlos looked at each other, then nodded simultaneously. "Of course we will." Carlos told you and then Charles added cheekily, "excellent service," as he nudged his head towards the bar top.
#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#thef1diary fic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc fic#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz smut#charles x carlos x reader#f1 x reader#f1 smut#smut
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you've got to be kitten me! ☆ jungwon yang
☆ class president! jungwon x troublemaker! fem! reader ☆ summary: jungwon yang, the stuck-up class president, had a secret: at night, he transformed into a cat. when you, the class's residential troublemaker (and one of the people that jungwon simply couldn't bring himself to understand), accidentally discovered his secret, jungwon found himself questioning his role in the school hierarchy. ☆ genre: fluff!!!! highschool! au, classmates to friends to lovers!!! very silly supernatural occurances, follows the asian school system btw, jungwon is lowk a loser and kinda assholey at the beginning ☆ warning(s)? this is very silly!! minor violence (toward animals) ☆ word count: 15.8k ☆ this isn't my usual writing style, or even my usual progression of events, but i was rlly inspired by those old shoujo animes so i tried to emulate certain features common in that genre! lmk what u think! btw it's not edited, i will go back and edit later but rn i'm j tired lol enjoy!
There were two things that Jungwon Yang hated:
Troublemakers, and teachers that talked too much.
Unfortunately, he was now sitting in a room with both types of people.
"You know why you're here right, [Name]?"
[Name] [Last Name]. You were the class’s relentless troublemaker. He’d known you since elementary and middle school, and you’ve always been the same. Brusque, aggressive, and a little too happy to use your fists.
Jungwon and you were in the same year, and he was the class president. Currently, the class advisor, Jungwon, and you were seated in your shared homeroom class after school.
Simply put, you've been causing trouble for the past few weeks, whether it be arguing with teachers or other classmates. Initially, the class advisor decided that although you were causing trouble, it was barely disruptive.
Until today. When you punched a classmate, a guy named Jiho Jang, in the face.
You leaned back in your chair, rolling your eyes. Your gaze hardened, before you let out a sigh. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
As Class President, it was Jungwon's job to collaborate with the class advisor to enforce school rules and punish those that failed to adhere to them. His lips curled at your sheer lack of regard for anything around you. It was annoying how you broke every rule in the book, prancing around like you owned the place. Why was it so difficult to just not cause trouble?
"Jungwon, what do you think?"
"Ahem," he cleared his throat, "I think [Name] broke a rule—" you cocked a brow at him, but he ignored you, "By assaulting another student, she should be punished for it, shouldn't she?"
Being the Class President, Jungwon had learned to be well-spoken and level-headed, but sometimes, it was utterly difficult to keep a diplomatic attitude. Because although he disliked people that caused trouble, he disliked teachers that talked a lot just as much.
The class advisor went on talking for a few more minutes, using many words but truly saying nothing. Jungwon learned how to make it look like he was listening when he really wasn't, nodding his head and smiling mindlessly.
God, just shut up, he wanted to blurt, but he caught himself.
Meanwhile, you clearly did not give a fuck. You looked at your nails, yawned, rolled your eyes, put your feet on the table. You even let out a very loud exasperated sigh. It was almost laughable the way you didn’t care, to the point that Jungwon almost caught himself letting out a laugh at your clear and abject expressiveness.
"Well, Jungwon, as class president," the advisor finally finished her long and drawn-out speech about school rules, "What do you think [Name]'s punishment should be?"
"Punishment?" It wasn't like Jungwon didn't punish people for breaking rules, but for him to punish someone directly felt so foreign to him. "Well, [Name] explained that she did what she did today in defense of another student, and there's evidence to back her up." Jungwon glanced at you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. "So, I think we should give her lunch detention for a week."
Jungwon disliked you. No, he disliked your behavior. But as the President, he was fair. You had thorough evidence to back you up, so he decided on a punishment that reflected on your circumstances.
Except, the advisor audibly reacted. "Ooh, I don't know about that."
Jungwon's brows furrowed. That was a more than reasonable punishment. "Why not?"
"None of the teachers are available to sit in for lunch detention this or next week," the advisor explained. "What about suspension for a week?"
Suspension wasn't even remotely similar to lunch detention!
"No!" Jungwon blurted. When he realized his outburst, Jungwon felt his ears burn. He cleared his throat. "I mean, I feel like a suspension is too extreme of a punishment."
His eyes flickered over to you.
You better thank me, he thought.
"If it's possible, I don't mind administrating lunch detention this week and next week, since none of the teachers are available."
The class advisor stayed silent for a few moments, before collecting her papers in a neat stack, and shoving it into her desk. "Very well, then." She turned to you. "[Name], you will have lunch detention starting tomorrow. Jungwon will be administrating it."
Then, you were dismissed. Jungwon had to stay back for a few minutes to discuss other class plans with the advisor, before leaving himself. By the time Jungwon walked out of the school building, the sun was beginning to set. However, as he walked out into the school courtyard, he spotted you.
You stood alone under a plum blossom tree. The pink-yellow flowers, now beginning to blossom as winter flew by, were sprawled across the ground, and your shoes, covered in dirt from the early-spring rain, trampled all over them with little regard. As you always did.
And, before he knew it, Jungwon was walking toward you.
It was common courtesy, at least for him, to greet whoever he saw.
"[Name]!" he called out, lips moving faster than his mind. Your head whipped over to him, quirking a brow.
"Hi?" you looked at him with suspicion.
He couldn't blame you. Jungwon and you were on completely different spectrums of the school social hierarchy. Jungwon was well-known with a clean reputation, and you were infamous at least and a delinquent at most. It wasn't like he had never interacted with you before, but those interactions were few and far between.
"... Did you need something?" You almost looked irritated that he was talking to you. Were you incapable of at least pretending like you cared?
"I just, " Jungwon had to admit, your gaze was intimidating. He’d heard rumors of you beating up kids that tried to talk to you, and although they were a little ridiculous, Jungwon wanted to be cautious. But, when words came to mind, his wobbly lips formed a soft, forced, smile. "I just wanted to say, I thought it was cool that you punched Jiho today."
When you only stared at him incredulously, Jungwon continued.
"Like, It was cool that you were trying to defend someone, and I thought that Jiho really deserved it," Jungwon added. "I'm sorry about the detention thing."
He was being partially truthful. Of course, Jiho had it coming. Anyone that picked on underclassmen were just shitty, but cool to use violence against him? Maybe not. It was the first word that came to his mind.
A few silent pulses passed, and Jungwon shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
"Thanks?" you said slowly, your expression painted with confusion— because why was the Class President praising you for assaulting someone? "Um, I don't think you need to apologize."
Jungwon nodded, his fake smile still painted across his cheeks, ready to spill more courteous words at you.
"You were just doing your job— Hey, are you okay?"
A sudden fuzzy feeling at the back of Jungwon’s head pierced through him. Almost like a switch had turned off inside him, Jungwon was suddenly wobbly on his feet, his eyes looking cloudy and dazed, rolling back in his head.
"Hey, Jungwon—" you grabbed his arm to hold him upright, your brows crashing together. "Jungwon, are you okay?"
Jungwon's knees felt weak, his head full of static. When his eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, it was a dark, gray-blue mixed with orange.
Shit, he should have kept track of the time. For someone who prided himself for how responsible he was, Jungwon had to admit that he was a little stupid right now. As Jungwon slowly slipped out of consciousness, his mind raced. No, no, no. He did not want this to happen right now, not in front of you.
You freaked out, frantically holding onto him. Why was Jungwon Yang practically fainting on you?
All of a sudden, a big puff of smoke appeared. As you coughed, using your hand to wave away the smoke, you noticed that Jungwon's shoulders were no longer in his hands. In fact, his entire person disappeared from in front of you.
When the smoke cleared, Jungwon was no longer with you. Instead, there was just a pile of his clothes before your feet.
"Jungwon?" you asked, bewildered out of your mind. "Hey, Jungwon, what the fuck just"
Meow!
Did something just meow-
Meeeeowwww!
From under the pile of clothes, a small, black cat poked its head out. Your jaw dropped, panic overtaking your system.
The cat let out another meow, before it began inching toward you. Out of sheer panic, you took many steps back, letting out a small yelp of fear.
"Stay back, cat!" you cried.
Meeeeowwww! the cat meowed at you, only inching closer to you. Each step it took toward you, you stepped back, until your back was pressed against the tree.
Who could blame you? Jungwon Yang just disappeared into thin air before your eyes, only to leave a cat! How could you not be afraid of that cat?
However, instead of killing you (or whatever you thought would happen if the cat got too close), the cat only pawed at your shoe. It let out another meow, but this time a much softer one. It continued to paw at your shoe, meowing profusely like it was trying to tell you something.
You watched it in disbelief.
You've seen many cats before, it wasn't like seeing a cat was some rarity to you. Just... where the hell did Jungwon go?
Experimentally, you reached out to touch the cat, only for it to jump away from you. You blinked at it. You and the cat stared at each other for a few moments, before it seemed to let out a small huff and stepped toward you. You reached out to it again, and this time, it didn’t jump away. You picked up the cat, holding up to your face so that it was at eye-level.
"Hey, kitty," you gently said, a small frown painting itself on your lips. You pet its soft, black fur, your fingers gracing its ears. Looking around, you bring the cat closer to your face. "Do you know where Jungwon went?"
Meow! was all you got in response, making you frown even more. You gently rubbed your thumb over its nose and soft, black fur.
"Did you take him, kitty?" you wondered, more to yourself than anything. When the cat only meowed, you couldn't help but crack a grin. You booped its nose, before cradling it in your arms.
You glanced at the pile of Jungwon's clothes a few inches away from you. You looked around, for any sign of him or anyone at all, before sighing to yourself. You crouched down, placing the cat down, too. You neatly folded the pile of clothes, tucking it under your arm. You picked up the cat once more, scanned the courtyard, and started your way home.
Despite what a lot of people liked to think, you were actually gentle. But only sometimes.
There were some perks to living alone, hundreds of miles away from your family. One of them was that you could bring home whatever animal you wanted, and no one could stop you.
On your way home from school, you decided that you'd keep the cat, whom you named Kong-ee (since its nose looked like a bean). How could you not? It was so tiny, and soft, and cute. Every time you rubbed its cheek, it let out a small meow. When you kissed it on the head, it started meowing profusely. It was so adorable!
If anyone at school saw you right now, they'd think they were dreaming.
You, that one mean and rough girl, playing with a little cat? You, not screaming and fighting every three seconds? Impossible!
You cracked a grin to yourself as you thought about the events that transpired earlier. Jiho Jang was picking on some underclassman, so you gave him a little nudge. When that didn't work, you punched him square in the nose. As you unlocked the door to your apartment, you thought back to how the school administrators reacted. For some reason, it felt like they favored Jiho over you, seeming to take his side before you even explained yourself.
You placed the cat down on your bed.
"Stay here, okay, kitty?" you gently pet Kong-ee. The cat stared at you with its large, feline eyes, and you laughed, kissing its cheek. The high-pitched meow it let out was cute, so you booped its nose again. "I'm gonna go run you a bath, 'kay?"
As you set your things down to run the bath, you suddenly remembered your Class President, Jungwon Yang.
It seemed like among everyone involved in the situation, he was the only one that was fair. You appreciated him reiterating that fact that you were, in fact, acting in defense of another student, and you could tell that he was trying to give you a gentler punishment. However, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he disliked you. He had this weird attitude, one where he seemed to think of himself as superior to you. You could tell that he didn’t like you, probably because of your ‘troublemaker’ reputation.
Come to think of it, have you ever spoken to him? Sure, you went to the same elementary and middle school as him, but you swore that you've never really spoken to him. You still had no idea what happened to him earlier. He just randomly disappeared from the face of the earth. You still had his clothes, which you threw into the washing machine.
You didn't think of him any more for the rest of the night.
"Kong-ee," you cooed as you poured warm water over the cat's head. For a cat, Kong-ee was very calm in water. You muttered to yourself, "So cute,"
After drying Kong-ee, you went to eat dinner, study, and at last, go to bed.
You didn't have a bed for Kong-ee, and you didn't move a lot when you slept, so you just let the little cat lay on your chest. The warmth of the cat was like an extra blanket anyway.
Your eyes felt heavy, so you were fast asleep just minutes after your head hit the pillow.
Jungwon thought he was a pretty smart guy.
But right now, he was absolutely stupid.
He completely didn't take into account the fact that during winter, nighttime came much quicker. He was so distracted by school duties that he totally forgot his curse.
That's right. Curse.
About a week ago, Jungwon was hit with some curse, where every day, the moment that the sun began to set, he would transform into a cat. He'd only turn back to human when the sun rose the next morning. These past few days, Jungwon had been leveeing excuse after excuse about why he couldn't attend a certain event, or why his homework was done so quickly.
Yesterday, even when he should have been running home because he was literally about to transform into a cat, he decided to go talk to you instead.
And now there he was, still in his cat form, laying on you, that one girl from class that couldn’t follow a rule to save her life.
As a cat last night, he decided that he’d escape out your window the moment you fell asleep. However, your apartment was many stories high, and he couldn’t fight off his feline instinct to snuggle up into something warm. So there he was, laying next to your sleeping face.
In his cat form, Jungwon could see your alarm clock. These days, sunrise was around 7AM, and it was 6:57. Just a few more minutes, and he should transform back into human. Hopefully, he won't wake you up.
Jungwon's plan was the moment that he transformed back into his human form, he would take his clothes (the one that you picked up and washed yesterday), and leave. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. Hopefully, you’d forget all about this, and his life would resume.
Meanwhile, Jungwon observed your sleeping face. It was weird. You usually had a scowl on your face, but your sleeping face was completely peaceful. He’d never seen you so… calm. In fact, last night was probably the most normal he’d ever seen you. Jungwon always kind of expected you to be rough with everything, but the way you treated him as a cat was almost… kind of nice?
With his paw, Jungwon gently touched your face, a small meow escaping his mouth. Your lunch detention started today, so he’d have to spend his next few lunches stuck in a room with you. He dreaded it. He had other things he wanted to do, even though he was the one to suggest that he administrated–
Poof!
With a puff of smoke, Jungwon transformed back into his human form. Except, he was now naked, sprawled on top of you.
Quickly, though with wobbly feet, he stumbled over to the clean folded stack of his clothes.
Just as he was finished putting on his pants, reaching for his shirt, Jungwon heard a shrill scream.
He whipped his head around to see you, staring at him horrified.
Oh.
Shit.
The last thing you expected was to wake up to a shirtless Jungwon Yang in your room.
"What the fuck are you—" you, still groggy, pulled your comforter over your shoulders, suddenly feeling exposed— "Jungwon, what the fuck? What are you doing here?!"
The boy only stared at you with eyes as wide as saucers, jaw dropped. It was only when you began throwing pillows and plushies at him that he began to get defensive.
"W-Wait, [Name]!" he staggered over to you, amidst the slew of pillows being projected at him. "[Name], let me explai— Ow!"
"Get out, Jungwon!" you shouted, hurling nearly every object on your bed at him. Simply for the reason that your Class President was literally half naked in your room, your face felt warm. With anger. "Get out, get out, get out— Oof!"
Behold, Jungwon tripped over one of the pillows as he floundered over to you, leading him to fall right on top of you on your bed.
A moment of thick silence engulfed your bedroom as the two of you stared at each other. Jungwon's cheeks flared. It was absolutely over for him now.
With a rough, but flighty, hand, you pushed his chest off of you with a scowl.
"Get off," you grumbled, shoving him again.
"Right..." Jungwon quickly pulled away from you. He sat at the edge of your bed, his head hanging low. His entire neck and face were red with embarrassment and shame. You probably thought he was a creep, a pervert, a weirdo! Would you tell people at school? He could already hear the rumors: “Class President Jungwon Yang is a freak!”
"Well, aren't you going to explain yourself?" you nudged him harshly with your foot. You still covered yourself with your blanket, looking at him with the most hostility that he'd ever seen from you.
"Wait a minute," you muttered to yourself. You shifted around your bed, feeling around your comforter. "Where's Kong-ee?"
Jungwon let out a nervous laugh.
"About that...."
(Long story short, you grabbed Jungwon by his shoulders, and said, "You're lucky that you were cute as a cat, because I was considering kicking your ass.")
Honestly, you thought Jungwon was a little weird, if not snobby. If you were asked how you felt about him a few hours ago, you would have said that he was a little self-important. But after the fiasco this morning, the only word you had to properly describe him was strange.
You supposed that you couldn't blame him. He didn't choose to be cursed into a cat, and he most definitely didn't choose for you to take him home. It was just a little embarrassing that the entire time, the cute cat that you were excited to take care of was just your Class President that probably hated you. It made you squirm a little bit.
After Jungwon gave you a (very thorough and evidence-based) explanation, you kicked him out and got ready for school as you always did.
When you got to school, you couldn't bring yourself to meet Jungwon's gaze, and luckily, it seemed like he couldn't either. You weren't shy, and you weren't the type to get actually flustered, but you felt a twinge of humiliation.
Why, of all people, did it have to be the guy that you were spending your lunch detention with?
In fact, as you sat in lunch detention, there was a thick tension in the air. It was just you and Jungwon in an empty classroom, completely silent save for the sound of chattering and people talking from the other rooms down the hall.
You were supposed to be doing homework, or something, but you preferred staring out the window. Meanwhile, from the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungwon sitting at the teacher desk, writing something out.
Minutes passed and you were getting bored. Normally, you were perfectly fine with getting lost in that head of yours, but for some reason, today all your thoughts were just... stale.
"Yah," you suddenly said, directed at Jungwon. The boy's head immediately shot up. "What are you doing right now?"
"Writing..." he answered curtly. His expression was awkward, very different from his usual composed face, the one that he used when he ordered people around. You tried not to show your discomfort on your face, but Jungwon was just an open book.
"I'm bored."
He blinked at you owlishly, before narrowing his eyes. "Well, do you want a book?"
You groaned, leaning back against your chair and throwing your head back. If this was how lunch detention was going to be for the rest of the week, you'd die.
Jungwon watched you silently. He let out a sigh, before setting his pen down. He picked up the papers that he was just writing on, holding it up to his face so that he could read it.
"Jungwoo and Sullyoon." You shot him a questioning look, and he continued. "Liz and Minji."
"What the hell are you saying?" you questioned.
Jungwon held up the papers; on them were elaborate charts with many columns. It was a list of some sort.
"It's the beginning of the month," Jungwon began. "I have to make a schedule for who's on cleaning duty."
You cocked a brow at him, making him continue.
"I might be the president, but I don't know a lot of our classmates well," the boy's feline-like eyes fluttered over to you. "I'm having trouble making the pairs. I don't know who gets along with who."
He stared at you for a few pulses, almost like he was asking you to help him. You finally huffed, rolling your eyes. You pulled a chair over to where Jungwon was sitting, plopping down. This was better than doing homework.
"All right then," you snatched the paper. You scanned the list, your nose crinkling at some of Jungwon's choices. "Why would you put Bae with Aran?"
Jungwon’s brows crashed together, just by the way you seemed so indignant about his choices.
"I don't know," Jungwon shrugged, unable to hide the slight offense on his face. "I thought they were friends."
"Nah," you sucked in a sharp, exasperated breath. "Bae was trying to get with Aran's boyfriend, so Bae and her friends jumped her."
The way it came out so casually from your lips was almost laughable.
"Ouch."
"And why would you put Jihan and Rei together?"
"Why, are they not friends?"
"No, because Rei is friends with Liz, and Jihan hates Liz."
"Well, what about Rei and Hikaru?"
You groaned, punching Jungwon in the arm. "I'm actually gonna kick your ass."
Out of nowhere, completely out of character, Jungwon couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. There was something so laughable about you, of all people, knowing the business of your classmates, and not him, the literal president. It was almost ironic, the way you seemed to be so passionate about the ongoings of the classroom. He immediately clamped his hand over his mouth the moment you shot him a glare, but he was unable to swallow another laugh.
"Yah, laugh again and I'll actually do it."
Jungwon let out another laugh. You grabbed his forearm, softly punching his shoulder again. The way your lips jutted out, the gloss on them shining under the light, was too much for Jungwon to handle. For someone so tough and violent, you looked so petulant, almost like a child, when you were angry. Your brows furrowing like caterpillars and the way your lips parted in offense was his favorite part.
You stood up abruptly, grabbing Jungwon's collar and pulling him up with you. Your lips pulled together in what could only be called a frown.
"You're so annoying," you grumbled, tightening your grip around his collar. "Kill yourself."
Jungwon's lips pulled upward to reveal his sharp canine teeth.
"Sorry," he said with a smile. It was weird, the way that it was a genuine smile, as opposed to the fake one that he found himself giving out.
You rolled your eyes for the nth time that day, but you loosened your hold on his collar. When he let out another small laugh again, you raised your fist at him. It was supposed to be purely threatening, you weren't actually going to punch him. And Jungwon could tell, just by the look on your face.
But that was when the worst possible person walked into the detention room: the class advisor.
"[Name] [Last Name], are you trying to assault the Class President?!"
And that's how you got after school detention, too. Administrated by the one and only Class President himself.
"Look, [Name], I'm sorry—"
"It's whatever."
And it really was whatever.
No matter how many times Jungwon explained with the advisor and administrators, they all wouldn’t believe them. He clarified seemingly hundreds of times that you, in fact, were not trying to beat him up. Still, they wouldn’t listen. Because he was the president, they simply assumed that Jungwon was defending you to not cause trouble.
You appreciated his efforts, you really did. The way his face scrunched with frustration as he let out a deep, exasperated sigh was enough for you.
“It isn’t whatever,” Jungwon ran a hand through his dark locks, huffing. “It’s unfair.”
Now the two of you were back in that detention room. You were sitting down, bored, while Jungwon paced around. He couldn’t say that he liked you, but he couldn’t stand for something so utterly ridiculous.
"It's not a big deal," you seemed more unbothered than Jungwon was. When he looked at you with a pinched expression, you sighed. "I really mean it, it's not a big deal."
Jungwon chewed on his bottom lip pensively. "But they're not being fair."
You shrugged. "This isn't the first time that it's happened, you know."
When the boy frowned, you continued. "Sometimes, the administrative system is kinda fucked. It's just something we hafta accept."
Jungwon's nose scrunched, before he made his way over to where you were sitting. He stood at the edge of your desk before you, his fingers tapping anxiously. He studied your face: your expression was painted with sincere and utter indifference. You didn't care. But he did.
"I'm serious," you noticed the uneasiness on his face. "Just let it go, Jungwon."
"It's just..." he breathed, "I'm the President, aren't I supposed to be the one with a louder voice? Why won't they listen to me?"
You gazed at his face.
Jungwon Yang, the Class President. He’d always seemed snobby, but he was surprisingly earnest. There was an essence of naivete in him, a sort of innocence and optimism that you couldn't shake off. Jungwon was almost intense with the amount of conviction he had.
"Well," you finally said. Under the desk, you tapped your shoe against his. "We can't do anything about it now."
You brusquely got up, moving toward the teacher desk.
"B-But—"
You plopped down on the teacher chair, kicking back. "Are you going to let me help you with your presidential duties or what? I’m bored."
You looked at him, dead serious. You gestured to the papers sprawled across the desk. 'Well, aren't you going to join me?'your expression read.
Jungwon finally exhaled.
He couldn't argue with you.
Because like him, your conviction was just as strong. You were realistic, too realistic that it was almost painful. But the intensity in your judgment was not to be challenged.
"Fine."
You never expected Jungwon's presidential duties to be so tedious. But what was surprisingly unsurprising was Jungwon's crazy amount of effort. Of course he put every ounce of his energy into perfecting the class calendar or the class seating arrangements. Although you did help him, there were a few moments of complete silence, as Jungwon sat in deep thought trying to figure out how to approach a certain issue. His zeal was almost freakish.
You let out a yawn. "Hey, what time is it?"
"Time?" Jungwon perked up, glancing out the window. Shit. It should be sunset soon. Why does he keep losing track of the time? He began shuffling his papers together, shoving them into his school bag. "Shiiiit, I have to go now."
"Man, I feel like I've never heard you swear—" Realization hit you. "Oh, right."
You helped him put his things away, but it was too late. Within seconds, a puff of smoke already engulfed the room, leaving a pile of clothes, and a tiny black cat.
You groaned. Not again.
"You’ve got to be kidding me.”
You decided that you'd take Jungwon home with you once again. As you laid on your back in your bed, you held his cat form up carefully, yet your words were harsh.
"God, you're so stupid, Jungwon," you scolded him. "Does this happen a lot? Where you don't keep track of time and just transform out of nowhere?"
Jungwon let out a small meow, hanging his furry head in shame.
"Ughhh," you lamented. You gave the top of his head a small tap, equivalent to you hitting the back of his head if he was a human. "Do your parents know?"
Jungwon responded back with a bunch of meows, like he was trying to talk to you.
"Whatever," you tapped his nose with your knuckle. Normally, you’d probably recoil at the thought of being this close to your Class President, but because he was a cat, you couldn’t help the desire to smother him with love. You held Jungwon's face close to yours. You rubbed your nose against his, cooing at the small meows he let out. You chuckled. "You're so much cuter as a cat, you know that right?"
Jungwon meowed, his short paws extending out to touch your face. You grinned, leaning into his touch. "You're so annoying at school. So annoying that I thought about punching you once. But I like you more as a cat."
Meeooowww!
"Have you eaten yet?" you brushed his fur back, rubbing the spot behind his ears, earning a purrrr. Jungwon shook his head. Then, you scratched his chin. "Can you even eat human food?" Jungwon shook his head again.
"Fine," you muttered, more to yourself. "I'll go buy you cat food."
The walk to the convenience store was quiet, save for your coos at Jungwon. On Jungwon's end, he was ecstatic. Each time you kissed his head or babbled back in response to his little meows, Jungwon couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment. It was weird, so weird, to see you be so… gentle, and loving, and caring. It was like a flip switched the moment you stepped out of school. Weren’t you supposed to be a delinquent? Why were you so tender? He hated it, he hated it so much. But now you were peppering his face with kisses, and Jungwon couldn’t resist leaning into your warm touch.
"Which one do you want, Jungwon?" You took him through the aisles, letting his small, black paws dictate what you'd buy.
"Are you serious? Salmon Gravy Poultry shreds?"
Jungwon meowed profusely, his paws flailing around almost offended. He couldn't control his feline cravings in his cat form! What did you expect him to choose, a Triple Dipple Mcdouble Wouble Hamburger?
You threw your head back, laughing at his cute frustration. You pinched Jungwon's nose, before going to the cash register.
That night, you sat with Jungwon wrapped in a blanket on your lap.
"You can still help me with my homework, right?" you said, petting Jungwon.
Meoooowww! was his response (as always), but the way his feline eyes squeezes into thin crescents, his mouth turning upwards, told you his answer was a very enthusiastic "Yes!"
You and Jungwon came up with a system.
One meow was yes, two meows were no.
It was safe to say that Jungwon let out many double meows in succession.
"Maybe I was wrong," you grasped his little paws like they were his hands. "You're still annoying as a cat."
Meow!
You giggled, before turning off your lights.
You gave Jungwon his own bed— a stack of pillows and blankets. You didn't want another incident, did you?
Oh. My. God.
It was past 7AM. The sun was up in the sky shining its yellow face so obnoxiously through the blinds.
However.
Jungwon was still a cat.
For the past week or so, he turned back into his human form the second the sun peeked through the clouds. But why not today? He had to figure this out before you woke up, or you might freak out, and that would make him freak out—
"Oh my god, Jungwon, why are you still a cat?!"
Long story short, you took him to school with you.
If Jungwon was a human, he would have refused profusely. Curse him and his tiny body, he had no way of refusing you.
And that's how Jungwon found himself stuffed in your pocket.
"Stop fussing!" you gently smacked the back of his head. "You're gonna get us caught!"
Meeowww! was all he could say. It was strange seeing the school through such a tiny lens. It didn't help that he felt like he was on a goddamn rollercoaster because for some reason, you decided to walk with a pep in your step today.
"Where's Jungwon? He's normally not late like this," Wonyoung Jang, the class's secretary asked just as you walked in. After a round of "I don't know's" it seemed like everyone suddenly remembered what (allegedly) happened yesterday: you assaulted him.
"Hey, [Name], did you do something to him?" someone asked. You shot them a questioning look. You ignored them, taking your seat in the back, being careful to not crush Jungwon.
"Yah, [Name]," one of the boys in your class (was his name Haruto, or something?) came up to your desk, slamming his hands down on your desk. "What did you do to Jungwon?"
You looked around the classroom— they had to be playing with you, right? Such a ridiculous accusation based on ridiculous evidence from the most ridiculous people.
"Uh. I didn't do anything...?" you answered sincerely, confusion strewn across your face.
"Hey, let's not lie, [Name]," Jinni, the class treasurer, smiled at you. "Just tell us the truth. What happened to Jungwon?"
"I don't know," you shrugged.
"You were the last person to see him yesterday," one of your classmates pointed out. "Something's fishy."
"Well, I don't know what you guys want me to say," you scowled. "I'm sorry, I guess? It's not really my business what goes on with him."
Before another person could join in, and most definitely escalate the situation, the bell rang, starting class.
Meanwhile, Jungwon internally frowned. Why was everyone so quick to accuse you? Sure, you got into scuffles, but they were being baseless with their accusations. All you did was walk in, and you were bombarded with questions. While class went on, he let out a soft meow, using his paw to touch your hand.
"Jungwon, what do you want?" you whisper-yelled at him.
Jungwon couldn't imagine what it would be like to have everyone see you with suspicion. When the teachers didn't believe him earlier, it was frustrating. He never considered how you felt. Your quick resignation to the flawed administrative system was upsetting.
Almost like he was trying to comfort you, another small meow came from him, his paw petting your hand.
You smiled gently, bonking him softly on the head, before turning back to the board.
As the day went by, Jungwon caught a real glimpse of what it was like to live like you.
From the pocket of your sweater, he could see the nasty glares that people sent you, simply for being in the same room as them. The way that people would scurry away from you, cower under your gaze like you were some kind of monster. Jungwon didn't know how anyone could endure that for much of their high school career. The more he watched you from your pocket, the more he could see your hard exterior cracking. You were genuine in that you didn't like people that much, but he could tell by the way that your lips twitched slightly, eyebrows knitting together for a split second as you wistfully watched groups of friends giggle together.
As lunchtime started, you slowly made your way to the detention room. That entire hall was mostly empty, probably because no one wanted to be near where you'd be.
You reached inside your pocket, your knuckle brushing against Jungwon's ears.
"Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I wish you were human right now," you said quietly to him. Jungwon meowed, rubbing his cheek against your finger. "I’m gonna be so bored."
As you cracked the detention room door open, you were met with a group of boys.
Of course you knew them. Everyone liked to lump you in with them, as "bangers," but anyone that understood who they were knew that you were far from their friend.
While you just caused trouble occasionally, they were actual delinquents.
"Hey there, [Name]," one of them grinned at you. You stopped at the doorway, narrowing your eyes at them. They never talked to you unless they wanted trouble.
"What do you want, Gyuvin?" you huffed. Jungwon from your pocket peeked his head out.
"We don't want anything from you, [Name]," another of them, Ricky Shen, took a step forward toward you. The rest of the boys followed suit, pulling you into the classroom and surrounding you.
You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. The way they were circling you certainly triggered your panic mode, but you swallowed it down, choosing to keep a hardened gaze instead.
"Right," you nodded slowly.
The next thing you knew, you were pushed to the ground with a yelp and thump! The way that the rest of them peered down at you condescendingly. You heard a small meow come from your pocket, so your hand shot to your pocket, your palm protectively cradling Jungwon.
"We're just bored, really," Gyuvin smiled, leaning down toward you. "Just wanted to see if this kitty bit back."
Silence enveloped the room as you glared up at them. You had to think fast. You honestly did not have the energy to put up a good fight right now, and you didn't want to. How could you evade this?
Your eyes shot around the room for some sort of escape. Unfortunately, there was only one: the door, and it was blocked by a few of the boys.
"Oh? What's that in your pocket?" It seemed like they noticed your hand clutching your pocket so firmly.
They yanked you up roughly by the arm, shoving their grubby hands into your pocket while others held your arms back.
"Hey!" you yelped, struggling against their grip. They're gonna find Jungwon!
Your worst fear came true. Gyuvin pulled out a thrashing Jungwon from your pocket. Even in his feline form, you could see the panic in his eyes. You tried to escape their grip, pulling away as hard as you could, but they overpowered you.
"What's this?" Gyuvin asked, a nasty grin on his face as he observed Jungwon.
"Give him back," you grumbled behind gritted teeth. You tried to pull away again, but it was no use. Gyuvin cocked a brow at you, before throwing Jungwon on the floor. Jungwon let out a small meow of pain, but as the boys approached him, he hissed loudly, his pupils dilated and his black fur standing up on his back.
Ricky glanced at you, making sure that you were watching, when he landed a kick at Jungwon.
"Jungwon!" you shouted, straining against the boys that held you back.
"Fuck," you muttered to yourself. You didn't want to fight. Jesus Christ, the last thing you wanted to do right now was fight. But you could not stand for this.
"Jungwon?" A smile was growing on Ricky's features. "Y'know, [Name], I thought that you murdered Mr. Class President or something. But it looks like you're obsessed with him more than anything."
Your hands balled into fists, biting your lip so hard that you could taste blood.
Assholes. That's what they all were.
It was Ricky's turn to land a kick on Jungwon.
That's when you had enough.
With all the force you could muster in your body, you stepped on the guys who held your foot. You didn't know how hard it was, but it was hard enough for them to loosen their grips on you, letting out cries. Your body was on overdrive now. The only thing you focused on was getting the fuck out of there.
"Yah, get her!"
You dashed to Jungwon, snatching him up and jamming him into your pocket. You flung the door open, but Ricky and Gyuvin grabbed both of your hands before you could make a run for it. Ricky pulled you in by the waist, so that you were flush against his chest, while Gyuvin pressed against you from the front.
"Let go of me," you protested.
"Nuh-uh," Ricky whispered in your ear.
"Why're you so resistant to us, [Name]?" Gyuvin rasped. "We just wanna be your friend."
Meanwhile, Jungwon, although injured, creeped out from your pocket. With them so close to you, it would be awfully easy for Jungwon to land a few claws on them. It wouldn't hurt to give them a few scratches, right?
With a loud hiss, Jungwon jumped out from your pocket, landing on Ricky's chest. With all the might that his small body could gather, Jungwon scratched the boy's chest with high-pitched shrieks. Almost immediately, Ricky stumbled backward, letting go of you. You took that opportunity to land the hardest kick you could to Gyuvin's crotch. Then, you plucked Jungwon up, and made a run for it.
You ran until you reached the girl's bathroom of the south building, far enough from Ricky and Gyuvin and their little henchmen. You took in shallow breaths, staggering into the bathroom. You held onto Jungwon tightly.
Finally, you dropped down to your knees, slumping against the wall. With a hiss, you observed the bruises on your wrists, where the boys had held you.
You took off your sweater, gently placing Jungwon on it.
He nuzzled his face against your leg, purring when you pet his head.
"Hey, Jungwon," your voice was quiet, the quietest that he'd ever heard. "You okay?"
Meow!
Your nimble fingers ran against his fur, and when you ended up on his side, Jungwon hissed. Upon closer inspection, that part of his abdomen was bruised from the earlier assault.
"I'm sorry, baby," you unconsciously used that name, your heart hurting for him. It must be horrible being so small and helpless. You tenderly caressed his face, with him leaning into your touch. "Does it hurt?"
Jungwon nodded. Although all the energy was sucked out of you from that scuffle alone, you jumped to your feet.
"The nurse's office is just down the hall," you said to him. "I'll go get some things, okay?"
Jungwon meowed to you as you left.
He'd never actually seen you fight anyone.
Were you harassed like this often? Was that why you were reported to be fighting people, when you were really just defending yourself? Why did people want to bother you so badly?
The pain in Jungwon's side was bearable, but the way you were so quick to get help was so admirable.
In fact, all this time that he spent with you, you never looked to fight people. Instead, you were actually so eager to be helpful. How did you become known as the class's troublemaker when you actively avoided trouble? All you’ve been so far was kind to him.
Was he wrong about you?
Just as Jungwon was about to go on pondering...
Poof!
Jungwon coughed, and suddenly, he was human again.
But, like always, naked.
He scurried into one of the stalls, shutting and locking the door.
"Jungwon?" you wandered back into the bathroom, unable to spot a little black cat. "Jungwon, where'd you go?"
When a deeper, masculine voice responded, you almost jumped out of your skin. "I'm... in the stalls."
"You turned back?!"
Jungwon felt his cheeks warm up. How was he going to explain this to you?
"Why are you in the stalls?"
Jungwon cleared his throat awkwardly, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm... uh.. naked right now."
.
.
.
"Oh."
"C-Can you please go get me clothes?"
When you came back with a set of male school uniform (that you stole from some kid's locker), you threw it over the stall door, a little flustered.
Jungwon finally came out of the stalls, an awkward expression on his face.
"Did the clothes fit right?" you asked. Granted, you thought you stole from the underclassmen, so the clothes you got him might be too small. "Are they too small?"
"No," Jungwon quickly answered. "They... They fit just fine."
He stared at you. "Thanks, by the way."
You blinked at him. "For what?"
"For everything you did for me back there," Jungwon took a deep breath. He still couldn't wrap his head around how your status as the class delinquent came to be. "You were really cool."
"Cool?" You raised a brow at him, but you couldn't hide the curve in your lips. "I thought it was pretty cool how you scratched Ricky."
Jungwon snorted. "That's nothing compared to the last-minute kick to Gyuvin's crotch."
You laughed, but clamped your hand over your mouth.
"Sorry," you murmured.
"I mean it," Jungwon was looking at you with wide eyes. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. "It was, like, straight out of a comic book."
"Right," you nodded slowly, the corners of your lips quirking up. You perched down next to him, pulling the first-aid kit you nicked from the nurse's office. You didn't know how Jungwon's cat-human curse translated injuries. That is, you didn't know if he'd have the same injuries he sustained as a cat in his human form. "D'you mind lifting up your shirt for me?"
Lift... up... his... shirt... for... you?
Jungwon choked on his spit, coughs spouting from his throat. As he coughed up a storm, a sharp pain in his abdomen pierced through him. He clutched his side, letting out a soft groan of pain.
"Shit," your fingers reached for the hem of his shirt, "You're bruised there, aren't you?"
You began to flip up his shirt to get a better look of his wound, but Jungwon quickly stopped you.
"W-Wait!" his cheeks flared. You gave him a weird look. "How am I going to get married if you see me shirtless?!"
.
.
.
For the Class President, Jungwon Yang was a little dumb.
You gave his head a soft smack.
"You dumbass," you chided him. "I've already seen you shirtless."
Jungwon's eyes widened into saucers. You sighed, rubbing your temples.
"Remember when I woke up to you half naked the other day?"
Oh. Right.
"And you're not going to be tainted if I see you shirtless. Stop being a baby and just let me see your injury, you loser!" With flighty eyes and red ears, Jungwon let you pull up his shirt, your fingers gently brushing against the brownish-purple bruise beginning to form on his side. He let out another hiss of pain when you pressed on it. "Does that hurt?"
"Y-Yeah."
Carefully, with the roll of bandages, you wrapped his torso. Although it was completely normal to you, Jungwon felt weird as your arms circled his waist. He could almost feel your breath on his neck. He'd been close to you like this as a cat, but it just felt different when he was a human.
You then gave him an ice pack, instructing him to hold it against his side.
"You're good at this," he complimented. You were very knowledgeable on how to treat wounds.
"Well, I get into a lot of fights, y'know?" You flashed him a toothy grin before treating your own bruises.
Jungwon's heart dropped to his stomach. That was... really sad.
"Wait!" he blurted, reaching out to clutch your arm as you wrapped your wrists. "Let me help you with that."
"Um, okay."
Jungwon wasn't nearly as experienced as you, and his bandaging job was very clumsy. But you appreciated the effort.
When you were done, the two of you sat in a short silence.
"What do you want to do now?" he asked you.
You thought for a few moments. "I think I'm gonna jump the fence and leave."
"Huh? Why?"
You shrugged. "I refuse to go back there after what happened. Plus, lunch already ended, and I don't feel like serving after school detention today."
You'd already made up your mind, beginning to collect your things.
Jungwon blinked.
For the first time ever, he, too, didn't want to go back. Jungwon had never skipped a class in his life, let alone jumped the fence.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" you nudged him with your foot. He looked up at you; you were ready to leave.
Jungwon breathed. This might be one of the hardest decisions of his life.
"Can I come with you?"
"If you're going to be worried, you should probably go back."
Jungwon swallowed down hard. He'd never skipped class before, and even if he really wanted to, he couldn't ignore the anxiety bubbling inside him.
"I'm not worried,” he clenched his fists.
"Right."
After jumping the fence, you and Jungwon were free.
"Where are we going now?"
"Home."
Jungwon felt like he'd come home with you so much the past few days, to the point that he nearly memorized the way there.
Except, as he entered the doorway, your entire apartment looked different.
"Why are you so surprised?" you switched on the lights. "You've been here many times already."
"I know, but," Jungwon scanned your kitchen and living room. "Nearly every time I've been here, I was an 8-inch tall cat."
You went into your bathroom silently, leaving Jungwon to walk about your apartment. He'd never really got a good look at it. He observed the picture collage on your fridge, of you and your parents and friends, smiling so brightly. The peach soda - scented candle on your counter seemed so out of character for you, but for some reason, it made so much sense. From the arrangement of the throw pillows on your couch, to the fuzzy rug, to the pile of mail sprawled on the coffee table, your apartment felt so you.
When you emerged from your bathroom, Jungwon did a once-over. He'd seen you in your pajamas before, but for some reason, when he saw you now in your cute polka-dotted fluffy pajamas, you almost looked... cute. Someone as brooding as you in such cutesy pajamas gave him whiplash.
"What are you staring at?"
"Nothing..." but Jungwon couldn't hide the way his lips curved upwards.
You yawned. "I'm gonna take a nap."
"Okay."
.
.
.
"Can I join you?"
Jungwon had expected you to throw him a pillow and blanket on the floor, similar to what you did with him as a cat. But you didn't.
You patted the spot next to you on your bed, looking at him expectantly.
And that's how Jungwon found himself laying next to you like a sardine.
He felt like a child the way his hands felt clammy, feeling a wave of anxiety with each movement you had. In his defense, he'd never slept in the same bed with a girl. In fact, he couldn't remember a time where he was as close to a girl as he was right now.
"If you're uncomfortable, you can-"
"No, I'm okay!"
He felt your eyes on him for a few moments, before you sighed. You jammed a pillow between the two of you, creating a border of some sort.
"Is that better?"
Jungwon didn't know why, but he felt a twinge of disappointment.
"... Yeah."
The next few minutes were full of silence. Jungwon laid still like a statue. From the corner of his eye, he could see you snuggling up with a plushie, almost kind of like how you snuggled up with him when he was a cat.
An unconscious frown spread itself on his cheeks.
He.... also wanted to be snuggled like that. Was it weird that he craved that closeness to you? He reasoned to himself that he was just used to it, since he’d spent the majority of his time with you as a cat.
In a moment of pure boldness, Jungwon snatched the pillow between you and him away, throwing it on the floor.
You sent him a confused look. "Hey there."
Jungwon's eyes were shaky, yet they trained on the plushie you had in your arms. Then he looked at your face, then back at the plushie, then back at your face.
"You need something, Jungwon?" you asked, almost concerned.
"I— Uhm," his eyes kept flickering from your face to the plushie. At a certain point, he was glued to the plushie, unable to hide the pout formed on his lips.
For someone who was good at pretending to smile, he wore his feelings on his face so clearly, you rolled your eyes.
"You're so annoying," you muttered under your breath. You chucked the plushie in your arms to the side. You then threw your arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. Jungwon let out a surprised yelp, but you ignored him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, careful not to touch his bruised abdomen. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses. "Is this better?"
Jungwon audibly gulped, but he eased into the feeling of your arms around him. "Y-Yeah..."
You were so close! He could smell the faint scent of your perfume, mixed with the scent of fresh laundry. You snuggled up against him, the sound of your soft breaths, which were slowing down into a steady rhythm, filling his ears.
Jungwon took a deep breath, and melted into the warmth that was your arms.
He wouldn’t mind doing this many more times, he thought. Would he?
And soon, he drifted off into dreamland, too.
Your eyes fluttered open a few hours later. Your bed was usually warm, but this time, it was very warm. So warm that you wanted to melt into it, completely and utterly disarmed by the comfort that you felt.
What time is it? was the first thing you thought.
The second thing you realized was that you could hear a heartbeat in your ears. Not your heartbeat, but the heartbeat of someone else. In fact, you were laying on someone's chest.
Jungwon's chest.
There the two of you were, sprawled out on your bed. Jungwon gently held your head against his chest, his other arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders, while your arms wrapped around his torso. Your legs were tangled. You didn't remember falling asleep like this, but it wasn't like you minded the position. You simply sunk back into him, basking in the warmth.
But Jungwon did.
As his eyes shot open, he immediately noticed the current position you and him were in. You felt him tense under you, his arms beginning to curl back into himself. But the warmth that he provided as your personal human heater was just too good, so you grabbed his arms, putting them back into the position they were holding you in.
"It's cold, Jungwon," you muttered, snuggling up against him.
“[N-Name],” Jungwon’s voice came out soft. He’d just woken up mere minutes ago, yet he was wide awake. There was a weird pounding in his chest that he couldn’t explain, one that thrummed so loud that he could hear it in his ears. Your touch felt like burns on his skin, an unforgiving scalding boil, hot to the touch. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Why was he suddenly feeling this way? Was he ill? Was he going to transform into a cat?
“[Name],” Jungwon whispered again, a little louder. His words got caught in his throat the moment he said it, wanting to swallow it the moment they left his lips. He didn’t know what he would say, but he just said your name to hear it on his tongue.
“What?” you groaned, eyes gently shut but words lazily spoken.
Jungwon peered down at you. His ears felt like they were going to melt off his head. His skin seared with that scorching type of sting, the one that ached.
“Nothing,” he murmured, his chest rising and falling with each soft breath you took. Soon, your breathing stilled, and Jungwon was sure that you’d fallen asleep completely.
He observed
It was weird. He'd seen you up close like this before as a cat, but now that he was human-sized, it somehow felt so much more... intimate. Jungwon found himself digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he watched you sleep. He couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from you.
Plunk!
Hey, what was that sound?
Plunk!
Jungwon's head shot to your bedroom window. Then, he heard yelling outside.
As he got up to check out the commotion, you tugged on him.
"I already told you..." you murmured dreamily. "It's cold."
Jungwon narrowed his eyes. "But, what's going on outside-"
"Ricky and Gyuvin," you answered, this time tightening your hold on the boy. "They like to... torment me... sometimes."
Just sometimes? Jungwon thought. Really, how often were you getting harassed like this?
Before Jungwon could answer, you were fast asleep again. From then on, Jungwon refused to move, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber.
But, there was one thing that he took heavy note of.
First, it was 7PM. It was completely dark outside by now, the blue-gray shrouded with clouds, only the yellow moon illuminating the sky.
And second, that he was still human.
Ever since that day, Jungwon hadn't turned into a cat even once.
However, while one phenomenon disappeared, another one emerged.
Jungwon's insanity.
Jungwon considered himself one of the, if not the most, sane person in every classroom. But right now, insanity was spiraling onto him like no other.
Weeks passed, and Jungwon couldn't shake off that tender, yet explosive, feeling he got when he was close to you.
After your week of detention was lifted, you and him slowly saw each other less and less. He couldn't help but feel disappointment when he locked up the detention room one last time, saying his goodbye to you.
You two were still in the same class, still saw each other everyday, but he didn't get to speak with you.
And that was when Jungwon resorted to observing you.
He was naturally observant, but all this time, Jungwon had been observing the bigger picture.
It started off with watching the doorway in the morning, praying that every person that passed was you. Then, Jungwon found himself watching you every passing period. Who did you talk to? Who tried to talk to you? What expression did you wear on your face?
Then, Jungwon took to roaming the school perimeter, under the excuse that he was just "patrolling the school for any trouble," when really, he was hoping that he'd run into you. This extended to after school. On the occasions that he actually ran into you, you'd shoot him a sly grin, making cat hands or ears over your head. He knew that you were doing that to tease him about his cat days, but his cheeks felt warm for another reason.
Have you always been that pretty? Of course, you'd always been cute, but did you always glow like that? Was Jungwon always into girls that looked like they could kick his ass? Why did the intimidating look on your face make his heart race?
Jungwon was in denial for a while, until he was at a Class Council meeting, when one of the members asked him casually, "Hey, what actually happened between you and [Name]?"
In retrospect, they were clearly referring to that one time you "assaulted" him. That incident remained shrouded in mystery for a while, as Jungwon refused to talk about it.
However, Jungwon jerked up at that question, his face painted with a look that could only be described as “constipated” at the sound of your name. Did someone find out about his cat transformation curse, and how you took care of him in that state? No, that would be too specific.
"Jungwon?"
"Y-Yes!"
Wonyoung and Jini shared a look, before a grin spread on their faces.
"You make it seem like you guys were kissing, or something. We’re just curious about what actually happened."
A weird noise came out of Jungwon's throat, his eyes wide like saucers.
Kiss...ing?
"Oh my god, don't tell me you actually kissed [Name]--"
"I didn't!"
And he was telling the truth. But the bright, red color on his face betrayed him. The Council teased him all about it, even going so far as patting him on the back for "scoring a baddie" (Wonyoung's words, not his). He denied it, he denied it with his full chest. He held his head high, nose pointed to the sky, denying it like his life depended on it.
But Jungwon couldn't help the weird feeling of pride that swelled in his chest. He liked the thought of kissing you, and in a weird, twisted way, he liked the way that people thought that you and him were together. Of course, he gave all of them a scolding for jumping to conclusions, but later in the day, when he was alone and reflected on the day, his cheeks began to hurt.
And that marked his actual descent into madness.
You began showing up in his dreams, smiling at him with those pretty, glossy lips, which he hadn't noticed until now. The grins you’d flash him across the room when he passed by, and the way you’d make cat hands or ears over your head whenever you saw him to tease him, made him feel weird. Gosh, did you have to be so pretty? Jungwon couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He craved your warmth, the warmth you gave him when you held him to your chest, the warmth you gave him when you hugged and called him annoying. Was it weird that he liked the way you could beat him up?
Jungwon was pulled out of his thoughts when his phone dinged.
Today was another mundane day, where he spent his lunch period in the Council room, looking through the schedule.
It was the Class Council group chat.
wonyoung jang: my friend said something fishy is going on in building b
wonyoung jang: someone go check it out?
jini choi: can't, i'm in a meeting rn
jini choi: jinwoo?
wonyoung jang: forget it he never checks the gc
wonyoung jang: jungwon?
Jungwon was already on it.
It wasn't uncommon for people to cause problems during lunch. In fact, that seemed to be the time when most people created the most commotion—
Oh my god, it was you.
When he rounded the corner, there you were. You had your arms crossed over your chest, backed up against a locker. The ones cornering you? Ricky, Gyuvin, and their lackeys.
"You're getting boring, yeah [Name]?" Ricky grinned. "I don't see you fighting back as much."
You shrugged, but you were clearly tense, narrowing your eyes. "I don't want to deal with you guys anymore."
Ricky slowly buttoned his shirt, revealing scars. Scars from scratchmarks. The same scars that Jungwon gave him.
"You see this?" his gaze hardened. "You and your goddamn vermin gave this to me.'
You looked at him incredulously, but you couldn't hide the small curve in your lip. "Okay. And?"
Ricky slammed his fist against the metal locker next to your head, making a loud clang! You cried out in surprise, jolting in place. Heck, even Jungwon was startled, quietly jumping out his skin for a second.
"You think this is funny?" Ricky slammed his fist again, relishing in the way you squeezed your eyes shut in sheer bewilderment. "You think you can get away with this shit?"
Your eyes darted around. Clearly, you were out-numbered and overpowered. Yet, you wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Yeah, I do," you muttered. "It was funny, the way you screamed like a girl, Ricky."
Ricky snatched your face, his hand clutching your chin. He leaned in close to you, so close that you felt his breath on your face.
"You bitch."
Meanwhile, Jungwon's heart raced in his chest.
It was getting out of hand: how many people chose to bother you. You were honestly just minding your business, why did people want to pester you so much? He needed to step in before things escalated. And get you the fuck out of there.
Jungwon's body moved quicker than his mind.
"Hey!" he shouted, making his presence known. Everyone's head whipped over to him. Jungwon gulped as his mind went into overdrive trying to figure out what to say. Curse himself, why did he jump into this without thinking? What a genius.
"Look who it is," Gyuvin slyly stepped forward. "[Name]'s little crush."
If Jungwon wasn't about to be jumped, he would have turned red at that little comment. He was too focused on the fact that you were in possible danger.
"Yanno, Mr. Class President," Gyuvin paced toward him, his brows raised to his forehead. "[Name] here named her cat after you. Isn't it weird how she's obsessed with you?"
Your eyes were wide like saucers, sending him warning signals.
'You need to leave,' your eyes read, but Jungwon ignored it. This entire time, he pranced around as the Class President, feeling righteous, yet he never even tried to empathize with someone like you. How could he claim his title but be so clearly blinded by dumb prejudice?
Gyuvin gestured for Jungwon to come closer, pulling him so that he was right in front of you, face-to-face.
"This one causes a lot of trouble, doesn't she?" Gyuvin rasped. "Parading around like she's some kind of queen, when really she's just a little cunt."
"I know you're angry, Jungwon," Ricky added, motioning to you. "Let your anger out, won't you?"
They were right about him being angry. But not at you, not at the world, not at whatever internal conflict he had.
At them.
Jungwon's hands balled into fists.
"You guys are out of your fuckin' minds," he grumbled, his shoulders shaking. Before they could respond, Jungwon raised his fist, and swung in as hard as he could at Gyuvin, square in the jaw. Immediately, the rest of their lackeys stumbled back, screaming out their leader's name.
This was your opportunity to fight back. Kicking off the wall, you landed a kick at Ricky in the stomach, pushing him to the ground. "Your breath stinks, by the way."
With your back turned, the next thing you heard was a yelp of pain.
Shit, Jungwon!
You yelled his name.
Jungwon, to your knowledge, was not a fighter. He didn't fight people daily, he wasn't violent, he didn't tell people that he'd "kick their asses" like you did. For goodness's sake, he was the Class President. He'd never even had a missing assignment, he was most definitely not going to be able to fight back, let alone land a punch—
But instead of seeing the poor guy on the floor with everyone else beating the crap out of him, you saw the opposite. Jungwon, with only a minute cut on his cheek and bruised knuckles, stood tall, while the rest of the guys (including Gyuvin) groaned on the floor.
How did he..?
Jungwon snatched your hand. Before you could process what the hell just happened, he started profusely asking you if you were okay, if you were hurt. Right in the middle of a whole bunch of dudes groaning in pain.
You squeezed his hand, before running off, pulling him with you.
"You're so annoying, Jungwon!" you scolded him as you wrapped his knuckles in the nurse's office. "Why would you jump into a fight like that—"
"You were in trouble," was all he said solemnly.
"So what?!" You looked at him incredulously. "You're insane. You're the President, why would you—"
As you chided him, Jungwon found it difficult to focus. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, or the way that you were so close to him. As he sat on the counter, you found your place in between his legs, dabbing rubbing alcohol on the cut on his cheek. It stung, but he only dug his teeth into his bottom lip, instead gluing his eyes to the way your lips moved.
"Jungwon, are you even listening to me?!"
"Yeah, yeah."
You smacked his shoulder. "And you're still recovering from an injury from a few weeks ago, what would you do if they tried to kick you in the stomach again?!" You flicked his forehead.
Jungwon couldn't help the way he felt his lips lifting up. The way you worried about him made his chest feel warm, mindlessly nodding along and agreeing with every word you said.
"You know what?!" you huffed, a hand coming up to rub your temples. "How the hell did you beat them up so quickly back there?! That— That was unreal."
Jungwon opened his mouth to answer, but you cut him off. "— Do you also have some curse that makes you unnecessarily ripped all of a sudden?"
Your hand came up to squeeze his bicep. Although it was hard, especially when he flexed it for you with a grin, revealing his toned arms, it still didn't explain how the hell he was so strong.
"I didn't tell you?" Jungwon smiled. "I used to do Taekwondo."
"You did not tell me. I don't think there was ever a conversation where that came up—"
Jungwon threw his head back, letting a laugh tumble from his lips. "Well, now you know."
It must have been something in the air, because Jungwon would not have done this any other time, but he slithered his arm around your waist as you cupped his cheek gently, fixing up the cut on his face. His hand dangled at your hip, his fingertips brushing up against your thigh. Your eye fluttered over to it briefly, but you didn't seem bothered. In fact, you actually leaned in closer, your other hand sliding up his chest to grip his shoulder for stability. As he was sitting and you were standing, his head angled up at you. The way you gaze down at him, your expression rested, made him almost feel light-headed.
"What if they spread rumors about you, Jungwon?" you asked quietly.
"I wouldn't care," he answered simply.
"But you're the President," your brows knitted together.
"So what?" Jungwon breathed. "Should the President be concerned over silly rumors?"
"Won't people be suspicious if it suddenly came out that Jungwon Yang beat up a few guys?"
If you asked Jungwon this a few weeks ago, he'd be worried out of his mind. He'd be afraid of his reputation being ruined, he'd be afraid of what others thought of him. But for some reason, it didn't concern him that much anymore.
"That's their problem, not mine."
Just as those words left his lips, his phone began to blow up. He glanced at it briefly; it was probably the groupchat or something, but as it continued to ding, you motioned to it.
"You might want to check that out."
So he did.
wonyoung jang: jungwon we need you right now
wonyoung jang: it's BAD BAD
wonyoung jang: everyone's saying you jumped ricky and gyuvin
jini choi: mr president we need you NOWW
You peeked over his shoulder, only seeing the last message.
"You should go, Jungwon."
"I don't want to."
You gave him a look.
"Suddenly so rebellious?" you nudged his shoulder, the corner of your lip raising. "C'mon, you have duties."
Begrudgingly, Jungwon up and left the nurse's office, sending you the brightest smile he could muster.
The moment Jungwon stepped into the classroom, he was bombarded– no, completely besieged– with questions. The mere amount of people hounding him with questions was so much, that all their words blended together.
“Okay, okay!” he shouted, putting his hands out in front of him. “One at a time, Jesus Christ.”
They called for a very "needed class discussion."
Long story short, Jungwon thought that everyone was kind of dumb. The way they were all concerned about whether or not he actually beat up Ricky and Gyuvin was ridiculous. Although Jungwon was honestly tired, he wanted to be smart with his words. He didn't want to scare them, did he?
"No comment."
"I don't feel like talking about it."
"I have nothing to add to that."
He found himself crinkling his nose a little too often as those words came out of his lips more times than he could count.
"Jungwon," some girl in the back of the class spoke up. "I heard rumors that you and [Name] are dating. Is that true?"
The class erupted with even more talking, people from other classes even lining the doorway to listen to it. The way that lunch should have ended a long time ago, but the teachers let this continue because they were also nosy and wanted to know. Did it really matter that much?
"Man, I don't know how I feel about that."
"But Jungwon's too good for her."
"[Name]? Of all people?"
They didn't even know you, how could they come to that conclusion if they never even spoke to you?
"But [Name]'s a bitch!"
"How is our Class President dating a bully?"
Jungwon's lips pressed together to form a thin line as thin as paper. He'd always thought that he'd been good at controlling his emotions, but the anger that was threatening to spill out of his throat was rising to a boil, bubbling to the point that if he didn't do something about it now, he'd absolutely implode.
"That's enough," he said, too quiet for anyone to hear. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes narrowing, behind Jungwon slammed his hand on the front table. "That's enough!"
The room went silent.
He took a deep breath, trying his hardest to contain his feelings.
"I don't see the relationship between my love life and the class's affairs," he said simply. "We are having a class discussion, and in our class discussions, we discuss problems relating to the class. In what way is the person I'm romantically interested in a problem that relates to the class?"
Silence.
Jungwon looked around with a cocked brow, expecting an answer.
Silence.
Jungwon narrowed his eyes.
He was tired.
As he pushed past people crowded at the door, Jungwon turned over his shoulder.
"By the way, I think [Name] is pretty cool. You guys should talk to her some time, maybe you'd be happier if you did."
And then he left.
Jungwon expected to find you back in the nurse's office, but he found you down the hall, your arms crossed over your chest, leaning against the wall.
He rushed to you, clutching your hands.
"[Name]," he said, "Hi."
You raised your brow at him, the corner of your lip lifting. "I'm pretty cool, aren't I?"
"Shut up," Jungwon muttered under his breath, but his eyes stayed stuck on you. He squeezed your hands. "Everyone's so annoying."
"I know," you squeezed his hand back. "You were cool back there, Jungwon."
Jungwon's cheeks warmed up at that compliment. Now that he realized that way your hands were in his, he felt his face prickle with heat. "Thanks..."
Somehow, your gaze felt too much for him to take. Jungwon avoided your eyes, choosing to look down at the floor. He felt your hand gently grasp his jaw, before forcing him to look at you.
"I really mean it," you said. "You're really the coolest. It's almost scary."
Jungwon opened his mouth to respond, but before he did...
Poof!
But this time, it wasn’t him that turned into a cat.
It was you.
"Not again!"
Jungwon seemed like a cat person. And he most definitely was one.
The moment that your cat form appeared at his feet, he scooped you up. Taking off his uniform blazer, he carefully wrapped you in it, before (to your complete and utter surprise) he jumped the fence, skipping class.
You meowed profusely. You had no idea how Jungwon did it; as words tumbled out of your mouth, they only came out as meows, and when you tried to clutch his forearm, all you could do was curse your annoyingly small paws.
If it weren't for your feline form, you'd be scolding him, chiding him for skipping class.
He was silent until the two of you reached a stoplight, when he took you out of the wrap that was his blazer. With his thumb, gently rubbed the spot behind your ears. Without even realizing it, you purred, leaning into his touch as if to say,"More!"
Jungwon chuckled, and you could feel his chest rumbling.
How embarrassing! How did he do this everyday for nearly a week and not go completely insane?! When he began rubbing your nose, laughing at the way that you fussed, Jungwon softly squeezed your stomach.
"It's my turn to take care of you, [Name]," he murmured, holding your feline face up to his. From your much smaller form, you could see every detail of his face— from the curve of his eyes, to the blemishes on his nose, to the divots in his half-chapped lips. You'd be lying if you didn't say that Jungwon had a nice face. You brought your paw up to his cheek, to which he chuckled again. He took your paw with his hand, before nuzzling his cheek into it.
When Jungwon finally arrived at his apartment, your question (where were his parents?) from weeks ago was finally answered: he lived away from them.
"Just like you," he whispered against your fur, rubbing your head as he flicked the lights on.
The next thing you knew, you were being bathed in warm, soapy water, as strawberry-scented bubbles filled the little bathtub. Jungwon dried you with his softest towel, and then you were eating the cat-equivalent of a five course meal.
"I feed the stray cats sometimes," he explained to you when your feline eyes gazed at him questioningly.
Was it normal for you to be so tired? You usually weren't this sleepy at this time in the day, yet you were. As you laid on Jungwon's lap, purring at the way his fingers ran through your fur, your eyes felt heavy.
It wouldn't hurt to doze off, right? After all, you were with Jungwon.
Jungwon tucked you into his bed, placing you on a pillow before covering you with a small blanket. He booped your nose.
Although he'd willingly skipped class today, he still had his own responsibilities that he'd like to attend to. He looked over all his homework, filing through all his important Presidential duties, and jamming in all the extra studying that was necessary.
It was a quiet few hours for him. Every hour, or so, he'd go to check on you. Each time he did, you were soundly sleeping. Since you transformed into a cat during the day, there was no telling when or how you'd transform back. He wondered how you'd react when you transformed back. Would you be bashful about it? Or, like always, would you call him annoying, and tell him that he spread his "disease" to you? Jungwon's lips curved at the thought of that. You were cute as a cat, but he thought you were cuter as a human, obviously.
As he worked away, Jungwon didn't notice the way the sun slowly sank into the horizon, its yellow face eventually disappearing. He was deep into focus when he heard a crash, and a small yelp. Coming from his room.
"Jungwon?" your voice called.
Immediately, he dropped his pen, dashing straight to his room. You were awake now, he thought. Maybe he could fit in a nice conversation with you, get closer to you, but that might be difficult when you were so pretty—
Oh.
The moment that Jungwon busted his bedroom door, he really didn't know what he expected.
But he definitely didn't expect to see you.
Naked, sprawled on his bed.
!!!
You let out a shrill scream. Jungwon's face flared with heat, immediately turning around. He buried his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut.
"S-Sorry!"
He felt like he could have increased the global warming rate and melted multiple ice-caps just by the sheer amount of heat radiating off of his face. It was so bad that his eyes began to water from pure embarrassment.
Jungwon must be dying, he thought. He might actually drop dead now.
He heard rustling, before your voice, much quieter than he'd ever heard it, murmured, "You can look now..."
Jungwon turned around, but he still kept his eyes shut. If he looked you in the eye now, he'd probably combust on the spot. Slowly, his eyes peeled open, to reveal you, just as embarrassed as him, curled up on his bed, with his blankets wrapped around you.
"Sorry," you muttered, your eyes glued to the floor, too shy to meet his. Your bottom lip jutted out to form a pout, your brows softly furrowing.
Jungwon waved his hands in front of him profusely. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Y-You have nothing to apologize for."
"Right."
.
.
.
"Jungwon, I'm naked—"
He was already on it. Your school clothes were still in the washer, so Jungwon dug through his closet, throwing you one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He let you do your business, and just when Jungwon thought that all his embarrassment was gone, he saw you in his clothes.
Shit.
Jungwon clamped his hand over his mouth, unable to hide the growing smile on his cheeks.
You looked so... cute.
"Yah," you kicked him with your foot, still buried in his blankets. He could see the way your eyes were shifty, still avoiding his. "What're you laughing at?"
"Nothing," was all Jungwon said, but a smile was apparent in his voice.
"Stop laughing!" you threw a pillow at him.
This scene has happened before.
Jungwon laughed, his eyes pressing into thin crescents as his sharp teeth came into view. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip. Why did he have to look pretty when he laughed?
You threw another pillow at him. Jungwon snatched the pillow off the floor, charging toward you. You let another shrill shriek escape your lips when he managed to land a hit on you with the pillow.
"Jungwon!" you cried, as he grabbed another pillow, hitting you on the top of your head. You struggled for another soft and plush weapon to use against your assailant, but alas, he was much faster and stronger than you, "Jungw— Hey!"
"You started it!" He was kneeling at the edge of the bed, when he reached for yet another one of his pillows. When he did this, Jungwon had to climb onto the bed entirely. You hit his hand away from his target pillow.
"You already have two pillows!" you nudged him with your foot. "Don't be unfair."
"All's fair in love and war," Jungwon said simply.
You stared at him incredulously, before you bursted out laughing. Jungwon's ears burned, but he didn't budge.
"Okay, you nerd." With that, you seized the pillow that he was so desperately trying to obtain, only for Jungwon to try to rob you of it. For the next few minutes, you and Jungwon struggled over the pillow, ripping it out of each other's hands.
"Let go!" you cried.
"Absolutely not!"
It was going just fine. A friendly pillow fight. Right?
Except, Jungwon miscalculated one of his movements, causing him to launch himself forward. He landed right on top of you, his hands right beside your head with his arms caging you below him.
Oh.
Oh.
With his dark locks falling over his face, Jungwon gazed down at you with wide eyes. The way you looked back up at him, eyes glittery and lips parted, your breath heavy from the earlier play-fighting, made his heart race. Why were your lips so glossy under the light? Why did his bed fit you so perfectly? Why did you look so pretty when you were in his clothes in his bed in his arms? Why did he want to lean in and—
On your end, your heart was palpitating just as much as Jungwon's was. But of course, you didn't know that.
The lamp next to his bed casted a dim, orange light, and even under the shadow, Jungwon's honey tan skin glowed.
There was something about the way his toned arms dangled over your head, or the way you could see his collarbones peeking out of his shirt, or the way that his neck just looked so goddamn kissable right now—
The two of you could have been staring into each other's eyes for minutes or for hours, there really wouldn't have been a difference.
"Uh, sorry," Jungwon finally said, the embarrassment finally settling in. He began to maneuver off of you, the warmth of your touch being ripped away from him.
No! You didn't want him to get off of you! You wanted him to be close to you!
You grabbed his wrist, yanking him down. Instead of caging you, Jungwon instead was now met with a faceful of your chest, much to his embarrassment.
"[Name]...!" he spluttered, but you didn't care. You pressed your hand on his back, making the rest of his body relax into yours, before you ran your hands through his hair.
"I'm tired," you muttered in his ear. "I want to sleep."
"Y-You just woke up..!" his voice was muffled by your chest and shoulder.
"I don't care." Your fingers stopped in his hair, before you reached for his lamp, switching it off. "We're sleeping."
All Jungwon could do was sigh, admitting defeat to you. He relaxed into your body, taking in your sweet scent, though with reddened cheeks. He thanked the newfound darkness for concealing the color of his face. Realizing that you were no longer playing with his hair, Jungwon clutched your hand, dragging it and plopping it right on top of his head.
"Play with my hair, [Name]."
"You're annoying," you whispered, but you complied. You were so warm, and soft, and calming. Jungwon felt all his worries melt away, which was why he couldn't help but nuzzle his face into your chest. You cocked a brow at him, pausing to flick his forehead. "Okay, you perv."
Jungwon shot up. "I'm not a—!"
You pushed his head down back into your chest, your other arm coming up to hold him in place. "Go back to sleep."
And who was he to refuse you?
Jungwon and you saw each other quite often after that. In passing, you'd always shoot him that signature smile, accompanied by a punch on the shoulder, or a light slap on the arm, or even a soft shove. Some days, you'd drop by the Council room and say hi to him, maybe even look over his Presidential papers. You got suspicious looks whenever you did, but the glare of the class's residential troublemaker and the Class President was enough to send people spiraling.
Day by day, Jungwon's feelings grew for you. Exponentially. It could be little things, like how you'd send him questioning looks when someone said something questionable, or the way that you'd scrunch your nose whenever he purposefully stared at you. But it was also the other moments outside of school that he valued, like when he found you feeding a few stray cats, or when he saw at the grocery store stocking up on cat food (just in case you or him turned into a cat again, your words not his).
Little did he know, you, too, blossomed a crush. You didn't talk to many people, so Jungwon was special. You liked that he was diligent and hard-working, and his snobbery wasn't really existent. He was one of, if not the only, person that you chose to tolerate. He was cute, someone that you wouldn't mind being around.
It's been long known to Jungwon that he wasn't always as smart as he thought he was. But sometimes he thought he was plain stupid.
“I like you,” Jungwon blurted one day after school, as you helped him look over his papers. The moment that those words left his mouth, Jungwon wanted to eat them.
As spring came rolling into your lives, the days were getting longer. Sunlight illuminated the empty classroom, casting a delicate shadow on your features.
Jungwon didn't know what came over him, what spirit decided to possess him in that moment.
After a few moments, you said, "Okay."
.
.
.
Okay?
Just.
Okay?
Jungwon squeezed his eyes shut as his heart plummeted to his stomach. Of course he had no chance with you. How could he? Was he getting ahead of himself? Had he been misinterpreting your relationship this entire time?
Just as embarrassment crashed down on Jungwon, you clicked your tongue.
"Can you stop panicking?" you asked frankly. When you noticed his very red expression, you huffed. "I didn't reject you, if that's what you're thinking—" you pinched your nose-bridge— "Just, let me think of a response."
That only made Jungwon sink deeper into his seat. Oh, he was so naive! What would happen after this? He didn't want to lose his friendship with you, not at all! Maybe he should die, maybe the earth should just open up right now and eat him alive—
“Jungwon,” you finally said. “I think you’re really cute.”
Jungwon held his breath.
“But,” you continued. “This is a little fast for me.”
As catastrophe rained down on his shoulders, you stifled a giggle.
Setting down your pen, you rested your face on your fist, gazing over at the boy.
Gently, as if he were a piece of glass, your fingers clutched his chin, moving his face to look at you. Jungwon's eyelids fell shut at your touch. Biting back a grin, you leaned in toward him. Experimentally, you came just close enough for Jungwon to feel your breath against his lips, ghosting you lips over his. You watched the way his brows knitted together, his lips wobbling.
Cute.
You pressed one kiss on his right eyelid. You felt his shoulders tense under you, but you only smiled. You pressed another kiss on his left eyelid. Before he could react, you pulled away.
“Take me out on a date first, yeah?” there was a smile in your voice.
Jungwon stood frozen in his spot, before his eyes shot open.
Date?
“And bring me flowers,” there was a teasing, but also dreamy, tone in your voice. “I like roses.”
The way Jungwon just stared at you with widened, glossy eyes, dumbfounded beyond words made you throw your head back, laughter bubbling from your chest.
You leaned in toward him again, collecting his hands in yours.
“I like sweets, but anything with too much chocolate makes me sick,” you leaned in closer. “I’m free every day, since none of the teachers are on my dick anymore.”
You put your finger to your lip in thought. “If you don’t want to go anywhere, we can come over to my house and nap. I like being hugged and I get cold easily.”
“W-Wait, what?!”
Jungwon felt so much blood rush to his face, he almost fainted.
"I like you, too," you said simply, as if it were just another fact and not one of the most ground-breaking discoveries of Jungwon's life! "I want you to take me out on a date."
Jungwon blinked.
You got up from your chair, yawning and stretching. Then, you began packing up your things.
"I have to go now," you flashed him a grin. "I'm tired."
As you made your way to the door, Jungwon finally realized where he was, and what the hell was happening: you, his crush, liked him back, and this was his chance.
"W-Wait!" Jungwon blurted, his hand jerking out to grab your wrist. Almost like you were hoping for him to do that, you turned over your shoulder, humming.
"This Saturday!" Jungwon gulped down those dumb words that threatened to spill out his mouth, the ones that would make him look even more like a fool. "Go out with me this Saturday, 5PM."
You only smiled. "Okay. Saturday, 5PM. Got it."
The two of you stood like that for what felt like hours. Jungwon darted his tongue out to swipe over his bottom lip. He wanted to say something to you, but he simply couldn't bring himself to utter words.
"You won't turn into a cat, on me, yeah?" you teased him, the corner of your lip raising up. Oh, how much he wanted to kiss them. How would your hand fit in his? What should he wear? Where would you go?
"No..." Jungwon answered, too dazed. "I won't."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
You slipped out of his grasp, making your way out of the room. Though, your footsteps as they faded away sounded more excited than usual.
Jungwon was left there in the classroom, alone. He blinked a few more times, letting a few more pulses pass, before his face broke out with a smile.
There he stood, hiding his face in his palms.
Oh, he couldn't wait until Saturday.
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