#is 100% someone who will just find a way around that??

[secondbeatsongs]

Food Crime: Frosty the Slawman

so a while ago, I saw this photo going around on tumblr:

at first, I thought this was photoshopped. I mean, "welcome new man in your life"? that feels like a translation error, or someone being silly on purpose.

but guess what! turns out, Frosty Slaw Man is real!

and soon...he will be mine. let's get cooking

(full disclosure: I crafted this snowman and took notes about it over a year ago. and then, like with many things in my life, I forgot about him, and let him drift into the ADHD void of Things I'm Not Currently Staring At, where object permanence is tentative and largely unrealized.

but here we are! and here he is: the slaw man. it's time to share him with you, so that you can suffer as I have suffered, and/or rejoice in my gelatin creation!)

so this recipe photo originally came from Mid-Century Menu (archive link), a blog that seems like one after my own heart, and which once tried to make the Slaw Man (with not much success; but we'll get back to that)! but it's not just that blog that has copies of this ad. I also found it on reddit, and in a few different places on ebay!

lookit that guy! he's a real guy!

both the reddit post and some of the ebay listings say that this is from 1963 (though I haven't been able to figure out which magazines it was printed in, to confirm this for myself). but in looking this up, I discovered something else fun! there's another version of this ad!

Best Foods is what Hellmann's stuff is called on the west coast, and the "this is no place for second best" thing makes a lot more sense when you consider that the ad was probably made for Best Foods first, and then just reused and rebranded for the east coast

the more you know!

anyway the benefit of finding this alternate ad is that the scan on this image is a lot clearer, and so the recipe is more readable! and in looking at it, I've realized something important:

when Mid-Century Menu tried this recipe, they got an ingredient amount wrong.

when they made their beloved Slaw Man, they had the water amount written down as 1/4 cup, but looking at this scan up close, it is actually 3/4 cup of water! something that might make a significant difference, considering we're working with gelatin!

(there's also another change I want to make compared to what they did, when I do this recipe. but we'll get into that in a sec.)

for now: we begin

so. there's no way I'm making a Slaw Man this large. I am just one person, and considering the ingredients of this, I don't think I'm going to be able to consume that much Slaw.

two entire heads of cabbage? three pounds of cottage cheese, a thing that I don't even like to eat? no. that's a bad idea.

so I'm starting small here and making this 1/3 the size of the original:

2 packets of unflavored gelatin 1/4 cup cold water 1 cup mayo 1 tsp salt 1lb cottage cheese 4 cups shredded cabbage

surely this will result in a reasonable amount of Man

...okay, I started chopping the cabbage thinking it would be easier, but I've given up and pulled out a grater. this is much better! and somehow more violent (affectionate)

the recipe says to soften the gelatin in cold water, and then stir over hot water until it's dissolved. I'm going to assume "stir over hot water" means a double boiler, so let's do that

hmmm, the gelatin is very foamy? it’s melted, but the bottom of the pot feels really....sticky

okay. after a couple minutes more and no change, I’m calling this good enough.

so one thing that others who have attempted this recipe have not taken into consideration is the cottage cheese. you see, the others used normal cottage cheese, but the recipe says to use "cottage cheese, cream style"

I’ll be real, I’m not 100% what that means, since we don’t have that here. but I can take an educated guess! so let’s blend the cottage cheese!

(with an immersion blender. I am not willing to wash an actual blender because of this)

mmm, yes. very smooth

...actually. why isn't all cottage cheese like this? the thing I hate about cottage cheese is the texture, so why isn't it all smooth and creamy like this?? I could eat this!!

a new discovery is made every day in this house.

okay, time to start mixing things together.

ah, frosty. I opened a whole new thing of mayo for you! do you feel special?

(I'd make a "pre-dinner snack?" joke, but sometimes I think I'm the only one that remembers Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time)

okay, the mayo, cottage cheese, and salt have been added to the gelatin. but as this cools, the texture is getting...hmm. less than appealing.

lastly: the cabbage

oh. oh this is not very nice

next it says to pack the "salad" into a one pound container, and two six-cup bowls, but since I made this recipe so much smaller, I'm going to uhhhh. uh. find some bowls that seem like they'd be correct...snowman? proportions?

ah. this bowl is too big.

hey, these'll work!

now I just have to let them chill for a while, and continue another day.

(edit from current!me: ahhh oh my god I forgot this was pretty soon after we adopted Jackie! look at these cat pics that I took while I was food crime-ing!

look at them having their little interactions! Knuckles was trying so hard to be friends with her! I love them)

hello! two days later and we are ready to assemble the slawman. and my sibling has started referring to him as "frosty: attorney at slaw", so that's fun.

I've done a thing where, as these set, I flipped them around in the bowl so that hopefully they'd be more round. we'll see if they actually stay like this.

I have also made some decorations for him out of peppers, olives, and carrots!

let's build our boy

oh he's so heavy. and wobbly

no no no he almost fell over!!

okay. he's fine. but more skewers were needed.

and...okay. he is complete.

behold!

gaze upon my beautiful man!

(he is not structurally sound! he wobbles unsteadily as I rotate him! there are already cracks forming in the gelatin around where his arms are! don't worry about it!)

 now it's time to stab him

and...to devour him

this tastes like...a bland coleslaw? and not even that. it's just sort of a salty, cottage cheese-y cabbage. the ingredients don't combine to become something greater, they simply...sit there. like this.

and the texture is...mmm. it's not a jello kind of texture, but it is a bit squashy in a way that's mildly strange.

it's very creamy once it softens in your mouth.

...I don't like this!

and look! taking just that one chunk from him was enough to destabilize him entirely :(

RIP frosty. now I just have to see if I can eat all of you before you go bad.

(note from current!me: I could not.

 I ate maybe half of him over the course of many days, often adding other stuff to him to try to add some flavor: bacon, frozen peas, cheese, etc. but even with that, I just couldn't stomach him.

after a while I stuck what was left of him in the freezer, hoping that maybe I'd find the will to consume the rest of him some other day.

do you know what a frozen-and-then-thawed mixture of cabbage, cottage cheese, mayo, and gelatin looks and tastes like?

bad. the answer is: bad.

I threw him out pretty quickly after thawing him.

do not try this recipe at home)

[ariestrxsh]

dealer!chris x dealer!reader

💸 content warning: smut/angst (in later chapters; this one's mostly just suggestive), mentions of hard drugs and guns, enemies to lovers, slow burn

💸 summary: you and chris spend the night hanging out on his roof after your first day of making sales together.

there will be several parts to this story, and they will contain sex, drugs, violence, use of weapons, and a lot of things that could be triggering if you've ever been apart of the drug world or loved someone with an addiction. i don't mean to glorify drug use, selling, or anything like that, but i wanted this story to be realistic, so it does appear like a somewhat "glamorous" lifestyle to chris and the reader in the first few parts. i want to make it very clear that when you get involved in the drug world in real life, you usually end up in one of two places: the ground or prison.

WHEN SPARKS FLY

chapters: | intro | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

The sun sank slowly below the skyline, and the evening turned to nightfall as you and Chris finished up your last deal of the day. You'd been showing him all the stops, introducing him to your customers, and teaching him the way you did everything.

He got into your passenger seat and sighed as his head fell against the headrest, really wishing he had a joint right about now. "Damn, ma. I can't believe how much money we made today," Chris mumbled, slouching down into his seat. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the wad of cash he'd made for the day.

"I know, and we're only a third of the way through the product," you smiled back, doing the math in your head about the potential profit. "I could never work a 9 to 5," Chris sighed, sifting through the $100 bills. "Can't believe I just made in a day what it would take some sucker to make in two weeks at some office job."

You fastened your seatbelt and turned the key in the ignition, admiring Chris, who brought his fingers to his lips and slowly licked them as he separated the crisp hundreds. "What are you thinking about, ma? My tongue or my fingers?" Chris flirted, catching you staring out of the corner of his eye and giving you a seductive smirk as he ran his tongue along the pads of his fingers again, flitting through his money.

You squeezed your thighs together as you bit down on your lip. For a moment, you were thinking about both at the same time. You hated the effect he had on you, the way he knew how to get inside your head, intrude on your thoughts, and invade your sexual fantasies. "You're fucking gross, Chris," you replied, rolling your eyes and trying to hide how turned on you were.

He responded with a chuckle, knowing that he was getting to you even if you wanted to deny it. "So, am I dropping you off at your girlfriend's house?" You asked, reminding him that he had one. "Nah, can you drop me off at my place? I'm staying home tonight," Chris requested. "I can do that. Just tell me where to go," you replied, your eyes darting around between the road in front of you, your side mirrors, and your rearview.

"So, have you told Daisy yet?" You asked, your gaze flickering over at Chris, who was shaking his head. "I'll tell her, ma, when I'm ready," Chris grumbled. He knew you were right. He knew he had some things to work out, like telling his girlfriend the real way he made his money or dealing with the fact that he was finding himself sexually attracted to his new business partner. He stole another glance at you from your passenger seat as the fantasy he'd had the night before flashed through his mind, praying you wouldn't notice the tent forming in his jeans.

When you pulled into Chris' driveway, he thanked you again for the ride. "I can't believe I've been sober for eight hours," Chris mentioned, bouncing his leg as you parked. "No wonder you've been so uptight today," you teased him. "Maybe you should come smoke with me since you're always uptight," Chris smirked, nudging you in the arm with his elbow, but his offer was genuine.

You gave him an annoyed look, but you couldn't hold back the smile that spread across your lips. "I don't smoke weed, Chris. I haven't since I was a teenager," you replied, fidgeting with the material of your black steering wheel cover. "Why not?" Chris wondered, surprised by your admission. "I like being clear-headed. I don't like feeling out of control," you shrugged.

"We're on a floating rock in space, ma. The idea that you have control over anything is an illusion," Chris laughed, reaching for his door handle. "C'mon. Come inside. Do you drink? I've got a beer with your name on it if you wanna hang out with me for a little."

You were quiet for a second. It wasn't often that people invited you to hang out or just do something fun with them, and for a moment, you thought maybe you could use it. "I could stay for one beer," you responded hesitantly, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. "That's what I'm talking about, ma. Let your hair down once in a while," Chris replied, beaming with a smile.

You trailed behind him, staring down at your shoes as you followed the pattern of the stepping stones that led to his front door. "Oh, shit. I forgot my house key at Daisy's place," he sighed, running his finger through his hair. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "Do you need me to take you to Daisy's place after all?" You huffed, slightly annoyed at the situation.

"Nah, it wouldn't do any good anyways. She's at work. Plus, this won't take long," Chris said, pulling a pin out of his pocket and fiddling with the lock. You nervously looked around, worried someone was going to see him picking his lock and call the cops or something, but in a matter of seconds, you heard a click, and you watched as he turned the knob. His door creaked open, and he glanced back at you with a mischevious smile.

"Okay, now you're just showing off," you replied, raising an eyebrow. "What can I say, ma? I'm good with my hands. Gotta show you my skillset somehow," Chris playfully winked at you. You scoffed, biting back a smile. A part of you liked the way he couldn't keep himself from making sexual innuendos and flirting with you.

"If you need me to pick a lock on a deal, though, you're splitting the money 50/50 with me," Chris told you, stepping into his living room. "What kind of shady shit do you think I'm up to, Chris? I'm just selling coke. Not robbing people," you joked, following him in. "You never know," Chris peeked back at you over his shoulder with a smirk on his face.

"This is it," he announced, raising his arms to present his place to you. It was a dimly-lit, relatively small place, but it had a safe, cozy vibe to it. "I like it," you told him, your eyes scanning them room. You noticed his sprouting marijuana plants in the corner sitting beneath his grow lights and an old shelf beside it that was littered with comic books and novels you'd never heard of.

His house faintly smelled of weed and sandalwood, like how Chris always smelled, and you found the familiar scent comforting as it wafted through the air. He directed you over towards his couch and motioned for you to sit. You sat down, awkwardly perching at the edge of the couch cushion.

"C'mon, ma. You can relax. Kick your feet up," he told you, heading over towards his fridge to give you that beer he promised you. You exhaled and slowly leaned back into his sofa that was much softer than you imagined it would be. Chris twisted the cap off the bottle and handed it to you. The red and white label that read Stella Artois stared back at you, and you hesitantly reached out and took it.

Chris plopped down on the couch beside you, and you watched as he sprinkled a bit of ground weed into his rolling paper. You peered down at his rings and his fingers at the way they skillfully handled the joint, tucking the paper in and folding it in on itself.

His gaze flickered up at you as his tongue darted out, and he licked a long, slow stripe across the edge of the joint. His lips curled into a suggestive smile as he noticed you watching him, but you acted unamused, pulling your eyes away from his. You held the bottle up to your lips, taking a small, refreshing sip, the bubbles fizzing against your tongue as you relaxed further into the comfy couch.

You peered down the hall to an open door at the end. The room was dark, but you imagined it was probably Chris' bedroom. You found yourself wondering what it looked like, how comfortable his bed was, and how hard it would be for you to keep your hands off of him if you ever found yourself alone with him in there.

"You coming?" Chris asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and standing to his feet as soon as you'd gotten comfortable. "Coming where?" You wondered, giving him a perplexed look. "To the roof. The view's great up there," Chris responded, making his way towards the back door.

You hesitantly followed him back out into the cool air of the backyard where he had a ladder propped up against the side of his house. "C'mon, ma. I'll hold your beer. You start climbing the ladder," Chris told you, extending his arm to take your bottle from you. "Yep. Just smoking and drinking on a roof. What could possibly go wrong?" You muttered under your breath as you wrapped your fingers around the cold, metal rungs.

"Don't worry, ma. I'll be right behind you, so if you fall, I'll catch you," Chris' breath tickled your neck as he pressed his warm body into yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. It was the closest you'd ever been to him. You were just glad you were faced away from him, so he couldn't see the unmistakable look of desire written in your expression as heat radiated off his skin.

You cleared your throat and regained your composure. "Is that your gun, or are you just happy to see me?" You snarked at him, peering over your shoulder in an attempt to take control of the situation again. Chris chuckled, but he didn't answer you, leaving it up for interpretation. You started to hesitantly climb the ladder, and Chris followed closely behind, keeping his promise to not let you fall as he held your beer in one hand and the unlit joint between his lips.

The two of you made it to the roof, and Chris handed you your beer once the two of you got settled. The star-filled sky hung overhead as you looked out at the horizon. You saw the tops of the other houses, the city lights scattered across the skyline, and the waves crashing on the beach shore off in the far distance. You brought your bottle of Stella Artois up to your lips and took another sip as you took in the view. There was something about this perspective that made your problems feel smaller and less pressing.

"Pretty cool, isn't it, ma?" Chris asked beside you as you heard the flick of his lighter sound as he held the flame up to the end of his joint. You quietly nodded, surprised by how much you could see from Chris' roof. "So, ma. What do you say we get to know each other better and play your favorite game, twenty questions?" Chris smiled over at you with the lit joint pinched between his two fingers.

You rolled your eyes, but you didn't have an excuse this time. There was no work to be done, and there was nowhere to go to avoid his questioning, so you took a deep breath and another swig of your drink. "Okay, fine. Hit me," you finally replied after a moment of hesitancy.

"Where do you go to clear your mind?" Chris wondered, his gaze locked on you. "The beach. I like the waves. The sounds of the seagulls. Feeling the sand between my toes. It's peaceful," you shrugged. Even though the question wasn't a very personal one, you felt vulnerable answering.

"What about you, Chris?" You wondered aloud. "You're looking at it," Chris said with his joint tucked between his lips. He didn't need to explain anything further. You could tell why this was the place he went to sort out his thoughts.

"Alright. What kind of music do you listen to?" You blurted out, not sure of what to ask him next. "Anything, really. But I prefer indie over everything else," he told you. "Okay, play me your favorite song," you told him, gesturing towards his phone he had sitting beside him. He picked it up, staring back at you as he thought about it for a moment. "Alright," he responded, scrolling through the saved albums on his phone until he came across AM by Arctic Monkeys. No. 1 Party Anthem started playing through the speaker of his phone, and you nodded in approval as the melody filled the space between you.

"If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would you choose?" Chris asked, turning off his phone screen and letting the song play softly in the background of your conversation. You thought about it for a moment. "See, I wanna say Pablo Escobar or something, but I think I'd want to have dinner with one of those druglords who flew under the radar so well that we don't even know their names," you replied. "Damn, ma. That's a good answer," Chris mumbled with the joint hanging from his lips.

He glanced up at you as if silently reminding you it was your turn to ask a question. "What did you think of me when you first met me?" You wondered aloud. You gave him a look like he should be careful about how answered this question. He cracked a smile, remembering the first time you'd approached him and threatened him for selling his weed on your block and trying to steal your customers. "I thought you were tough. Not the kind of woman you want to mess with. I also thought you were super hot," Chris admitted. You blushed, hoping Chris couldn't tell in the glow of the moon.

"What's one thing you don't leave the house without?" Chris asked you, pulling a long drag from his joint. "My keys," you sharply responded, subtly teasing him for having to break into his own place earlier. He let out a laugh. "And my gun," you told him. You sipped on your bubbly drink, noting that the song had changed.

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High started to play as you glanced back over at the blue-eyed man beside you. "If you could change one thing about yourself, what would you change?" You asked, peeling the label off your beer bottle. "Nothing," Chris smirked over at you. "Nothing?" You reiterated, furrowing your brow. "Nothing," he repeated. "You're a little cocky, aren't you?" You shot back. "I prefer confident," Chris chuckled before he pulled from the joint again.

"What do you think the most important quality in a friend or partner is?" Chris asked after a few seconds of silence. "Honesty and loyalty," you said without hesitation, and Chris nodded in agreement. "You?" You asked. "Probably just someone who isn't going to bail when things get hard," Chris sincerely responded.

"What's your biggest fear?" You asked him, the questions getting deeper and deeper. "Losing the people I love," he answered, staring down at the build-up of ash on the cherry before flicking it off. "How about you, ma?" He returned the question. "Trusting the wrong person and getting hurt," you responded almost immediately. "I get that," Chris answered, his gaze still fixed on you.

"What's your guilty pleasure?" Chris asked you, his luscious lips curling into a smile as he awaited your response. "Probably those dumb reality shows," you admitted, your cheeks growing warm. "Really? Never took you for a girl who likes trash TV," Chris teasingly nudged your arm. "Daisy loves that shit, too."

"What's one of your guilty pleasures?" You asked Chris. He bit down on his lip as he looked you up and down. He knew what he wanted to say, but he knew it would be crossing the line of just playful flirting and venturing into uncharted territory, so he came up with something on the spot.

"Watching the trash TV with her. I'm always making fun of her for watching The Bacholorette and shit like that, but then I find myself watching it with her and getting all invested," Chris confessed.

"I totally get it. Like, I started watching it as a joke at first, and then you get to know the people. Then you start wanting them to end up together," you said, glancing up at him, and his eyes met yours. The song changed again, and you listened as the lyrics came through:

🎶 If you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot. You call the shots, babe. I just wanna be yours. 🎶

The two of you stared at each other in a comfortable silence for a moment, Chris taking a puff of his weed as you took a swig of beer. "So, what does Daisy think you're out doing all day when you're working?" You wondered, raising an eyebrow at him. "As far as she knows, I work in sales, which isn't totally a lie. She just doesn't know about the drugs," Chris shrugged. "Yeah, she doesn't know about the most important detail," you scoffed, tapping on the glass of your bottle.

"Why are you always judging me for that, ma? I've got my reasons. Why are you so pressed about it?" He asked, sounding a bit defensive. "I had an ex who kept things from me, like how much money he owed certain people. He put me in a lot of dangerous situations. Don't want to watch you do the same shit to Daisy," you murmured, letting Chris in more than you had up until this point. "I didn't know, ma," Chris said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder and relaxing his jaw. "You know, I'd never intentionally hurt her. Or you."

"It doesn't matter, Chris. You can be the most well-intentioned person in the world and still hurt the people around you," you responded. He was quiet for a few minutes, mulling over what you said.

"Your ex? Alex?" Chris wondered, blowing out a cloud of smoke against the night sky as he recalled Joe using that name earlier. "Yeah. My dumb fuck ex. He got himself killed because he owed the wrong people money," you said in a dry tone. "Holy shit. Ma, I'm so sorry," Chris whispered. "Don't be. He deserved it," you muttered under your breath.

"Hey, I have a question. Why do you always call me ma?" You chimed in. "It's just a sign of respect. That's all," he shrugged. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"No. It's fine. I don't care what you call me. You gotta stop looking at me like that, though. Looking like you're gonna kiss me or some shit," you accused him, following his gaze that danced between your eyes and your lips as you took another drink of your beer. The song changed again.

🎶 How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow, and I play it on repeat until I fall asleep. 🎶

"I'm not looking at you any type of way! Maybe you're projecting because you wanna kiss me," he shot back. The sexual tension between the two of you was thick, and for a moment, you each thought about it. The temptation was there, and it was strong. You wanted to pull him as close as you could, passionately press your lips against his, and tangle your fingers in his soft, brown hair, but you didn't want to ruin your business relationship with him.

Chris thought the same, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, but he didn't want to screw up what he had with Daisy, and he didn't want to give you the wrong impression. He diverted his eyes, glancing down at his joint that had burned down to the roach, and he put it out. "Get enough of the view, ma? I'm getting kind of tired," Chris chimed in as you admired his profile in the moonlight.

For a moment, you forgot he was talking about the scape of the city from the roof. "Oh, right. Yeah, of course. I should probably go," you said, fiddling with the empty bottle in your hand. "You can stay the night if you need to," Chris motioned towards the alcoholic beverage you'd finished off, but he knew he was playing with fire the moment the words left his mouth, inviting you to stay the night.

🎶 Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways? Sad to see you go, was sort of hoping that you'd stay. 🎶

The two of you exchanged a look like you both knew it wouldn't be a good idea. Even with you both sleeping in separate rooms, you each knew deep down that a closed door wouldn't be enough to deter you two from the temptation. "It's cool, Chris. It was just one beer. I'll just grab a glass of water, sit on your couch for twenty minutes, and I'll be fine to drive," you told him. Chris picked up his phone and paused the song. "I got you, ma. I'll help you down."

You felt elated once you were finally sitting back down on Chris' couch, sobering up. You weren't sure if it was a buzz from the alcohol, an adrenaline rush from being on the roof, or just the way you were starting to feel around Chris.

Chris gave you some crackers to help "absorb the alcohol," because he had "heard somewhere that it does," and even though you'd only had one beer, it was sweet that he cared enough. You also both just knew that you had to sober up, because staying the night wasn't an option unless you were both prepared to give into the force that was pulling the two of you together and end up doing something that could hurt Daisy or hurt your business relationship.

So you were munching away on Ritz crackers on Chris' couch after your single beer, and once you felt like the effects of the alcohol had worn off, you made a comment about how late it was getting and about how you should probably get going.

You left, following the same stepping stones you'd used when you walked up. When you approached your car, you reached into your empty pocket for your keys just to remember you'd left them on Chris' coffee table. "Shit," you whispered, realizing you were going to have to do a walk of shame back up to his front door after giving him shit for forgetting his keys earlier.

Chris had already started to get ready for bed, shedding his layers and slipping into a pair of flannel pajama pants when a soft knock sounded at his front door. He peeked through the peephole to make sure it was you, his heart racing and secretly wondering if you'd come back to kiss him or confess your feelings for him, his mind swirling with half a dozen possibilities.

He turned the doorknob, and when you saw him, your eyes were immediately drawn to the fact that he was shirtless. "Uh, sorry. I forgot my keys," you told him, unable to conceal your smile at the irony of the situation. "Oh, you mean, the keys you don't go anywhere without?" Chris asked, leaning against the door frame and indulging in the fact that you were doing nothing to hide the fact that you were checking him out.

"Yeah. Those ones," you smirked, biting down on your lip. "I'll go get 'em, ma," Chris chuckled at you as he turned to retrieve your keys. You found yourself holding your breath as your gaze danced over the definition of his back muscles in the soft lighting of his living room.

He handed them to you, and as you took them from him, his hand brushed against yours. You both exchanged a look that was heavy with the words unspoken between you, but you also both silently agreed it was for the best. "Okay, goodnight," you said, unconsciously batting your eyelashes at him. "Goodnight," Chris smirked, eyeing you up and down as you turned to walk away before closing his door again.

As soon as you made it to your car, you reflected on the way you acted and how stupid you must have sounded, silently kicking yourself. You didn't harp on it for long, though. Your embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by the intoxication and bliss you felt from being around such an attractive man who was beginning to make you smile more than he made you roll your eyes.

taglist: @skye-44 @faiyaz555 @idrk2292 @chrisclean @drewswife @trevorsgodmother @sofisturns @milo-the-dog @rockstarchr1s @bluetalia @xaristhings @nomusic-nodreams @birkinbratsworld @wastelandzella @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @drewstarkeys @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00

[meguwumibear]

dominant!zayne x submissive!reader

tw for light BDSM, bondage/shibari, sex toys (vibrator), fingering, and some minor angst. mc calls zayne sir like twice. if i've missed something else that needs a tag, just ask! nondescript female reader with a bit of a backstory, just to make her feel more connected to the world.

Additional Disclaimer: Takes place after the events of the main story (which I am not fully caught up on). Reader is NOT the game MC in this fic. In my mind's eye MC decided to romance one of the other characters and Zayne does what he can to move on.

and yes, zayne's harness in the fic is 100% inspired by his harnes in the new trailer

In 2034 the world you as you know it ends. It happens suddenly one mundane spring afternoon. A great, gaping maw opens in the cloudless blue sky above Linkon City, releasing a tidal wave of ferocious monsters unto the earth. Locals come to call the event the Chronorift Catastrophe. The world later discovers that the great, gaping hole in the sky was the appearance of the first ever Deepspace Tunnel which attracted alien beings now colloquially referred to as Wanderers.

Everyone in Linkon City remembers where they were that day. They remember what they were wearing and who they were with. A flashbulb memory, the psychologists call it. A memory that endures. A memory that persists.

Like most survivors, it isn’t just the red rain falling from the sky or the horrible sound of the earth splitting around you that you remember: it’s the actions you took to survive. The people you ran past. The neighbors you didn’t save. The hand you didn’t extend to the woman who tripped over her own two feet running from the creature. The debris you didn’t help remove from the body of the elderly man too weak to push the plank away without aid.

For three weeks you see a therapist. You’re an adult now, still plagued by nightmares of the event. You tell the woman you’re meeting with that you are suffering from memories. She tells you that your body needs to learn that the danger has passed. The problem with that logic? The danger hasn’t. Your body can’t stop secreting stress hormones when you daily lunch breaks are constantly interrupted by Metaflux monsters.

Your past becomes a prison. An inescapable cage. Your therapists asks how you would feel if someone flung open the doors for you. You tell her it would depend on who opened the door and what’s happening outside.

The session before you ghost your shrink, she asks you to practice breathing exercises. She prattles on and on about the importance of nervous system regulation in trauma recovery. Apparently exhaling is supposed to activate the “rest and digest” response—the antidote to the “fight and flight” response that your body is stuck in.  

And that’s all well and good but even twenty years later the Wanders keep manifesting in Linkon City in numbers that the Hunters can’t keep up with. You’d move, maybe, if you had the means, though you did read somewhere once that a scared animal will continue to seek out their home, even if their home is no longer safe.

So you find an alternative way to cope with the stress of the new world.

There’s budding red light district about an hour outside the city. You go sometimes on weekends to decompress. Your favorite haunt is a small BDSM club run by a couple of old widows who lost their husbands to the war. They verify ages at the door and ensure all the drinks at the place stay virgin.

You’re not heavy into the scene or anything—you actually have quite a few hard limits—it’s just…nothing else you’ve tried has helped you to shut off your brain. To shift your focus from the past to the present. To shut out all thoughts of Hunters and Protocores and Wanders.

The doms you’ve had up until this point were perfectly adequate; they listened diligently to what you were open to and respected all of your boundaries. You aren’t sure why you’ve never asked for a more consistent routine with any of them. Something, somehow, was always missing from the encounters.

There are a lot of new faces at the club tonight. Or, rather, there are a lot of faces new to you. The club has many regulars, but you don’t make the hike often enough to have them all committed to memory. Still, you’re certain you’ve never seen the tall, stoic man in a leather harness swarmed by a gaggle of women before. Despite the fact that he clearly has his pick of the litter, your gaze keeps wandering to his solid form. The way his abs flex when he breathes. The way his lips quirk when he talks.

He's halfway across the room but must somehow still feel the heat of your wandering gaze because after a few stolen looks he locks eyes with you. Your whole body flushes as he acknowledges you with a raise of his drink. The tips of your ears burn as he takes a healthy swig of the beverage without breaking the eye contact. It’s you who looks away first.

When you chance a glance back over, he’s excusing himself from the women who flocked to him like a tourist attraction to pick his way towards you. Your heart flutters anxiously as he closes in, and you have to remind yourself not to take a step back once he’s close enough to touch.

“First time?” he asks, voice smooth like ice.

“Ouch,” you reply, gripping your own water glass to ground yourself. “It’s not. Do I really look that unaware.”

His expression doesn’t change but his eyes move to assess you, “What are you drinking?”

Though his tone is relaxed you can’t help but feel as if the question has a correct answer.

“Just water.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Something with electrolytes would be more efficient. If you’re looking for a session tonight, that is.”

“I don’t like the taste,” you tell him, trying to keep the glass in your hand from shaking as desire swells within you.

He frowns, “Without electrolytes, your body will dehydrate, no matter how much water you consume.”

“You a doctor?” you ask.

He hums in what sounds like confirmation before wrapping his hand around yours. “I take the health of the people I play with seriously. This is about much more than sex to me. I like when my partners eat three square meals a day and have an effective exercise regimen implemented.”

You don’t resist when he slips your water from your grasp. You also don’t hesitate to open your mouth when he raises his own perspiring glass to your lips. His fingers don’t even graze you as you swallow down the fruity liquid, yet you can feel your insides come alight as you obey. As your pussy begins to leak it becomes increasing clear to you that you would do just about anything to have this man dominate you tonight.

“Good,” he says once you’ve downed the drink. “Now, do you happen to have a list of what you enjoy and your hard limits on you?”

With shaky hands, you reach wordlessly into your bag to retrieve what the man has asked for. He spends a few moments skimming the contents before simply stating, “I believe we are compatible.”

You follow him to a private room near the back of the club and watch as he begins to gather some equipment for the session. Without turning to look at you he says, “I noticed that you have some experience with light bondage. I prefer to use traditional single ply shibari rope or silk as restraints. These two methods prevent chafing and other potential complications like skin lesions or rashes. Do you have a preference for today’s session?”

“No preference, uh…” you trail off, wondering what the man would like you to refer to him as.

Sensing what’s on your mind, he offers, “I have no preferred titles, but you may assign me one if you like.”

“No preference, Sir,” you say, watching the man for his reaction. He seems unfazed by the moniker and continues to ready himself.

“Do you have any allergies or medical conditions I should be aware of?” he asks.

A lie forms on the tip of your tongue but the truth slips out anyway, “My heart’s a bit weak. Nothing serious. It didn’t develop properly when I was younger. I haven’t had any issues with it before.”

The revelation seems to give the man pause. He turns to you and motions for you to hold out your wrist for him, so you do. His warm fingers slip under your sleeve and find purchase on your pulse point. After a few excoriatingly silent minutes, you attempt to put his mind at ease.

“I’m, uh, a bit more excited than usual at the moment. My resting heart rate is probably higher than normal.”

The pads of his fingers don’t leave your wrist when he asks, “What’s your typical resting heart rate?”

You want to ask what that fucking matters, but sensing that won’t get you any closure to what you want you decide to humor the man. It’s been a while since you’ve been to a doctor. Back when they used to have you track it, the rate could vary depending on what task you were completing. It was higher, usually, when doing something strenuous. When you rested it would drop again.

“Usually around 90 beats per minute.”

His eyes flick to your face as he drops your wrist. “You should see a specialist.”

You roll your eyes impatiently, “Are we fucking or not?”

In response to your outburst, his hands find the hem of your shirt. “Who said I had any intentions of fucking you?” he asks, voice frustratingly emotionless. Your arms raise instinctually as he toys with the fabric, and the takes the opportunity to relieve you of the garment. “As I said before, this is about much more than sex to me.”

He circles behind you and draws you in close to him. It occurs to you suddenly just how much larger than you the man is. He rests his chin on your head as his fingers slowly trace down your sides, leaving a field of goosebumps in their wake. His hands make their way to the button on your pants.

“You aren’t just here for sex. Are you?” he asks, voice low. You feel the words vibrate his chest as he speaks them.

“No,” you whisper, eyes suddenly blurring.

“Good,” he says, undoing your buttons. “Let’s use the traffic light system today. It’s a simply way for me to check in on you and see how you’re doing.”

He lets the words sit in the air for a bit, fingers fiddling with your zipper. The only sound in the room is your own uneven breathing that you fight for control over.

The man pinches the tab of your zipper and shifts so his cheek is pressed against your forehead. “Color,” he asks, breath hot on the shell of your ear.

“Green,” you practically moan.

He slides off your pants with ease once he’s taken care of the zipper. He even helps you to keep your balance as you step out of them, one foot at a time.

“Color?” he asks again, as his fingers settle on the clasp of your bra.

“Green,” you reply, voice steadier now.

He undoes the hook with one hand.

You expect him to remove your panties next, but his fingers instead find the meat of your breasts. One of his arms wraps around you, securing you tightly against him, as you nearly keel over in a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

“Sensitive here,” he observes, cupping one of your breasts in his free hand. He uses a foot to nudge your legs further apart and slip a leg between them. The man isn't lying about getting off on this; his cock is hard as a rock against your ass.

“Fuck,” you whine as his bends you over ever so slightly. Just enough to rub your clothed pussy against his pant leg.

“Wet already,” he informs you, as if you don’t already know. As if you can’t feel the way the cotton material sticks to your lip. “All I did was undress you. That eager to begin?”

“Please,” you groan, desperate for him to take you apart with his slender fingers. “Please, Sir, I want you so fucking bad.”

“On the bed,” he instructs, releasing you, careful not to harm you as his leather harness peels away from your skin.

The rope he ends up choosing for the session is the jute rope. He takes his time winding the instrument around your wrists and pulling them above your head. His movements are practiced and skilled. His hands steady like a surgeon’s. You don’t even realize the effect watching him restrain you is having on you until a firm hand finds its way to your pelvis to stop your squirming.

Once you’ve settled, he retrieves two strands of additional rope.

“Are you familiar with the Spiral Futomomo tie?” he asks. “I understand that you’re still a beginner and tie will force you into a fixed position for an undetermined length of time. I trust you will use your safe word if needed?”

“You can trust me,” you assure him. “I know my limits.”

He must believe your words are sincere because he sets to work binding your ankle to your thigh, checking in periodically to ensure the wrappings aren’t too tight. The man is clearly in no rush and seems to delight in taking breaks between knots to steady your shaking form. You also notice the way his eyes shift to the growing wet spot beneath you as he progresses.

“What do you like about bondage?” he asks as he begins to work on your other leg.

“I don’t know,” you say, attempting to shrug before remembering your pose prevents you from such movement. “I’m never in control of my life anyway. May as well surrender myself to someone I know will take care of me.”

He doesn’t look at you, but you can see the way his eyes lighten. Your response must please him somehow. You decide to push the issue, “You like being in control?”

“I like caretaking,” is his response. “I like giving people what they need.”

“What if I need your fingers inside me?” you dare, feeling bold.

A small smile, but a smile all the same. “Then, you’ll have to patiently wait until I’m finished with the task at hand.”

He double checks all of his bindings once he’s finished securing you, mumbling under his breath about optimal blood flow. It’s cute, the way he seems so set on ensuring this is the best possible experience for you. You can’t remember the last dom you had who was this doting.

When he finally situates himself between your legs, it’s with gloved hands and a vibrator. You jump as the cool leather of the hand covering finds your inner thigh.

“Keep these spread for me,” he says, referring to your legs. Then he’s rubbing the vibrator, still off, up and down your panties with just enough strength for you to truly register the tool.

“You’re soaked,” he observes in that neutral tone of his, though his eyes glistening with awe. You wonder if he even realizes the vibrator isn’t on. His eyes find yours and for the first time all evening he smiles warmly at you. “Don’t worry. I’m going to take excellent care of you.”

Then he turns the vibrator on its lowest setting and your pussy truly begins to drool. He circles the vibrating toy around your clit strategically, watching your response to his ministrations intently. Fire pools in your belly as he slides the vibrator down your cunt and presses the tip of it gently against your opening. The panties you’re still wearing dull some of the vibration, but you can still feel the ungodly amount of slick that slips out of you at the slight penetration.

You do your best to stay still for him as he ups the setting, but your body starts to twitch in pleasure, back beginning to arch, toes threatening to curl. Your breath quickens as well as all the blood in your body seems to pump directly to your swelling clit. The same clit the man is now more firmly rubbing the vibrator against.

“Fuck,” you cry, starting to lose your composure. Your hips buck away from the relentless thrumming of the vibrator. Or maybe towards it. You’re not actually sure. It’s both too much and not enough at the same time. You need more. You need less. You need…

His unoccupied hand presses your hips back against the bed. “Easy,” he coaxes. “Don’t pull against the ropes.”

When you’re unable to obey, too overwhelmed with desire, he switches the vibrator off. The lack of sensation is so abrupt the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill, slipping down your heated cheeks. An animalistic whine you didn’t even know you were capable of escapes you.

“We’re not done,” he assures you, swiping at your tears with his thumbs. You wish suddenly he wasn’t wearing the leather gloves. You yearn to feel him skin to skin. The fabric is warm at least from the heat of his fingers. “You’re just getting a little fussy. I want to make sure everything is alright before we continue.”

He settles back between your spread legs and hooks his pointer finger in the bottom of your panties, pulling it aside to expose your dripping core and swollen lips. “Impressive,” he says, “how simple it was to elicit this response from you.”

He collects some of your spend on his index finger before starting to slide it inside you. It’s met with no resistance. He sinks easily in, straight to the knuckle. When he slips out it’s only to coat a second finger in your slick so he can sink that one in alongside the other. The two digits begin working you in tandem with each other, pumping deliciously against your walls. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for.

“Here,” he states, pressing and holding the tips of his fingers against the sensitive area. You involuntarily clench around them, body begging him to move them once more, but the man—to the devastation of your body—is nothing but the living embodiment of self-control.

You audibly cry out when he pulls his fingers from you. He locks eyes with you as he coyly promises, “Soon. I’d never leave a woman unsatisfied, and any man who would isn’t fit to be a dom.”

He picks the vibrator again and this time, when he touches it to your clit, it’s under your ruined panties. The thrumming sends a bolt of electricity skittering up your arched spine. Fuck, you’re so unbelievably wet. You feel your pussy fluttering around nothing and hiccup out a sob. You’re so empty. You’re so, so empty.

“Need,” you hiccup.

“What?” he asks patiently. “Tell me what you need.”

“Your fingers. I need your fingers. Please.”

He slips the same two from before back inside you.

“So well mannered," he praises. Then he asks, "Here?” as he presses the appendages against that spot once again.

“Yeah,” you agree, though you’re so far gone you would agree to anything he asked of you in this moment. “Yeah. Yeah. There. Right there. Fuck!”

He uses his fingers and the vibrator to bring you right to the brink of an orgasm. It’s so good. He’s so good. He’s touching you everywhere you need to be touched. Pushing all the buttons that need to be pushed. Your time in these rooms has never felt anything like this before, and you doubt it will ever feel anything like this ever again.

“Can I-”

“I don’t remember telling you that you needed my permission.”

Your orgasm ripples through you, strong and steady like a cresting wave. Once he’s certain he’s wrung the last of it out of you, the man withdraws his fingers and switches off the vibrator.

“I’m going to remove my gloves and start undoing your bindings,” he says.

“Yeah, okay,” you reply.

It takes a few minutes for him to completely untie you. Once he has, he asks permission to massage your legs and arms to reencouraged blood flow which you readily agree to. He produces a bottle of lotion that smells like eucalyptus from his bag and starts working the muscles of your arm.

“I wish they had showers here,” he offhandedly comments. “I don’t like sending people home without a proper washing.”

“A bath does sound nice,” you agree, sagging into his embrace.

“Promise me you’ll take one when you get home. I don’t want you getting into your bed dirty.”

“I would never make a promise I couldn’t keep, Sir.”

A comfortable silence falls over the room as he continues to provide you with aftercare.

“Zayne,” he eventually says, eyes fixed on the foot he’s been massaging for the past few minutes.

“What?”

“My name. You could use it if you’d like. Sir is fine too, if you’d truly prefer it, but I find names are much more intimate.”

“Oh,” is all you muster. Then you tell him yours.

“Could we move to the sofa while we continue to wind down?” he asks after testing the sound of your name in his mouth. “I like the casual skin to skin contact after a session. I’ll remove my harness but leave my slacks.”

“Fine with me.”

It takes Zayne a moment to remove his harness. Perhaps it’s his first time wearing this particular set of gear. You watch him wrestle with the final clasp through drooping eyelids. His expression softens when he catches you lazily staring at him.

“Admiring the view?” he teases.

“Never had a better one,” you reply easily.

He positions himself behind you when he joins you on the sofa. The two of you lay there comfortable for some time, breath seeming to synchronize in the quiet of the room. The world outside this secluded space slowly begins to creep back into your mind. Back to Metafluxes and Protocores. Back to Wanders and Hunters.

And then you start to cry.

If you weren’t so close to Zayne, you could probably hide it from him, but he notices the change in your mood instantly. He tugs gently at your arm, a wordless plea for you to turn to face him. You allow him to reposition you, curling yourself into his large body, tucking your face into his neck.

He pets at your hair soothingly while you let the worst of it out. When an appropriate amount of time has passed, he asks, “What brought that on?”

“It’s, uh, well it’ll probably ruin the moment if I told you.”

“I’d still like to know if it’s all the same to you. Debriefing is part of the scene after all.”

At first, you’re not sure you want to tell him what triggered the outburst, but considering the dynamic, you figure you owe it to him.

“I was thinking about my ex,” you admit.

Zayne stiffens, his caressing hand on your head stills. “They hurt you?”

“They loved me.”

 Zayne tangibly relaxes at your response, and he resumes petting your hair.

“What happened to them?” he asks, tone carefully neutral.

“They left me.”

The silence that follows your confession is welcome. You think you even dose off. When your eyes open again, Zayne is full dressed, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he sanitizes the sex toy you soiled.

Sensing you stir he says, “You’re awake.”

“I am.”

Zayne dries the toy and sets it aside, turning to face you.

“I like to follow up with the people I dom for. You don’t have to give me your number if you’re not comfortable. An email will suffice.”

“You can have my number,” you say, gesturing for him to hand you his phone. “I’d actually appreciate a check in tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

He walks you to the train station once he’s certain the number you’ve given him isn’t a fake.

“Remember to get a full eight hours of sleep tonight,” he tells you. “And please eat a protein-based meal for breakfast. Something with eggs and meat, maybe. A shake if absolutely necessary.”

“Yes, Doctor Zayne,” you joke, offering him a crisp salute as you step onto the train platform. Maybe you're imagining things, but you swear he flinches at your response.

A firm hand on your wrist stops you from fully entering the car. You turn to face him one final time.

“About that,” he says, expression unreadable. “I was serious about you seeing a specialist for your heart.”

[adumbratrapedme]

Kita x reader | teen pregnancy. pt 1 the news.

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between kita and a reader.

wc. idk | genre. angst to fluff |cw/tags. angst to fluff, teen pregnancy mentions, etc.

teen pregnancy series masterlist here!

NOTE: Lately, I’ve been rereading Love is an Illusion by Fargo—a series that meant a lot to my 15-year-old, friendless self and Kita’s parts in my story will be heavily inspired by it. Fargo gave me a vision, and I’m going with it. Of course, it won’t be 100% like Love is an Illusion, but I’m drawing inspiration from it for a few key conflicts. Just wanted to let everyone know!

general headcanons:

╭⋅We know kita was raised by his grandma so he def. was raised with a very traditional mindset, giving him a strong sense of responsibility, ╭⋅The moment Kita finds out about the pregnancy, he’s all in. His sense of responsibility kicks in, and he’s committed to the idea of making things work, no matter what it takes. His decision to marry isn’t rushed or impulsive—he truly believes it’s the only way to handle the situation properly, it’s not a question of if, it’s a question of how. ╭⋅Also sees marriage as a natural step when you’re in a relationship, and even more so when a child is involved. To him, it’s about ensuring that the family unit is stable and that everyone is taken care of. ╭⋅He is the type of person who remains calm in any situation, but this can be overwhelming for someone like you, since he tends to approach problems with logic and practicality which can make him seem distant when you just want emotional reassurance. ╭⋅Despite this, Kita genuinely believes he’s doing what’s best for you, and it takes time for him to understand that maybe u might need more from him than just steady support. ╭⋅Even with his sometimes cold demeanor, Kita has a surprisingly strong paternal instinct. The idea of becoming a father and raising his child with you is something he takes very seriously. While he’s calm, you can tell by his actions that he’s preparing himself for the long haul, making sure everything is in place for their future. ╭⋅I also feel or want to headcanon that kita’s grandmother raised him with the belief that family is everything, so he is fiercely protective of those he cares about, and while he’s not overbearing, he has a way of quietly supporting you through everything.

You sat on the edge of the school rooftop, legs tucked to your chest, eyes glued to the horizon. The wind ruffled your uniform, and the faint sounds of students below felt distant, like they belonged to a different world.

Because right now, your world was crumbling.

The pregnancy test was still in your bag. As if you needed to see it again to believe it.

Positive.

Your breath hitched. How the hell did this happen?! Well, okay, obviously, you knew how, but… you and Kita had always been careful. Sure, sometimes things got heated, and sure, Kita was frustratingly good at making you lose your mind, but still—how did it end up like this?

Your hands clenched around the fabric of your skirt. This is a nightmare.

"(Y/N)."

Your body tensed at the familiar voice. Heavy footsteps. The scrape of the door closing behind him.

Kita.

You didn’t turn around, but you knew he was already beside you, his presence as steady as ever.

"You missed lunch," he said simply.

Your stomach twisted. You bit your lip, keeping your eyes on the sky. "Wasn’t hungry."

A pause. Then—

"You're lying."

Your jaw clenched. Of course, he could tell. Kita never pried. He never pushed. But he also never let things slide, not when it came to you.

A warm hand settled on the top of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair in that absentminded way he always did when he knew you were upset. Usually, it calmed you down. Today, it just made your heart ache.

You swallowed hard. “Kita…”

"Hm?"

Your hands trembled. The words caught in your throat, tangled and suffocating.

How do you even say something like this?

Your chest felt tight. You gritted your teeth, then blurted out, "I’m pregnant."

Silence.

The wind howled between you, rustling the rooftop fence.

Slowly, you turned your head to look at him. Kita’s face was unreadable, his sharp golden eyes locked onto yours, unwavering.

Then, he exhaled. "I see."

…That was it?

Your stomach twisted. "That’s all you have to say?"

Kita hummed thoughtfully. Then, with a tone as steady as ever, he said, "We’ll get married."

Your brain short-circuited. "HUH?"

His expression didn’t waver. "We’ll get married," he repeated, as if he were just stating a fact. "I’ll talk to my grandma first. Then we’ll tell to your parents."

Your jaw dropped. "Are you insane?!"

Kita blinked, confused. "No."

You gawked at him. "Kita, we’re still in high school! You’re just—just deciding this on your own?!"

His brows furrowed slightly. "What’s there to decide?"

You wanted to scream. How could he be so calm about this?! Your entire world was falling apart, and he was acting like you’d just told him you forgot your umbrella.

"You don’t—!" You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. "You don’t have to do this out of obligation."

Kita frowned. "It ain’t obligation. It’s responsibility."

"You don’t even seem shocked!"

He gave you a long, considering look. Then, with infuriating calm, he said, "Well… I had a feeling."

You nearly choked. "A feeling?!"

Kita nodded. "You've been getting dizzy. Your appetite’s been weird. And you stopped wanting coffee."

Your eye twitched. "That doesn’t mean I’m pregnant!"

Kita just shrugged. "Still figured I’d prepare myself for the possibility."

Oh. Oh, my God.

This was so Kita. Of course he’d already processed this before you even knew. Of course he’d seen all the signs, analyzed them, and just waited for you to come to him.

Your entire body trembled, overwhelmed with frustration, panic, and the unbearable weight of reality crashing down on you. Your breath hitched. "I-I can’t do this," you whispered.

Kita finally moved closer, his hand cupping the back of your head, pulling you forward until your forehead rested against his chest. His heart was steady, strong, unshaken.

"You're not alone," he murmured. "I got you."

Your fingers curled into his uniform. "But…" Your voice was barely a whisper. "Do you even love me?"

Kita exhaled through his nose, his fingers threading through your hair.

"Love ain't just words, (Y/N)," he said. "It's action. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

Your chest tightened.

This was really happening.

And Kita Shinsuke was not letting go.

General Taglist:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02 @alpha-mommy69 @curlyhairkk @b1xi @reuka1 @feyrfly @elmaa127

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! also if u only want to be tagged on specific characters.

-if i forgor someone pls tell me and dont be shy, i get really lost with the taglist thingy ahhh

[wonderlandcrown]

Yuu and The Housewardens (SPOILERS FOR ALL THE BOOKS, BOOK 7 EXCLUDED)

A thing I really wanted to talk about was the amount of times Yuu has interacted with them during their own books

Because a few months ago I think I saw someone complain about how we only interacted with Leona a few times in his own book, and then I realized that in book 2, 5, 6 and 7, we aka Yuu barely interacted with the respective housewarden.

These obviously parallel the original movies, the amount of interactions or times we've met with each housewarden represent the times when the original villains actively participated to bring down the protagonist.

Just to clarify, twst doesn't follow the plot of the original movies 100%, there are some tweaks in plot as seen in book 1 where we met with riddle a few times more compared to alice and the queen of hearts(who have literally only met one time, but the duration was pretty long)

In book 2, the plot rlly isn't that different from the original. We met Leona and Ruggie earlier even before book 2 started just like how Scar and the hyenas were present before Simba was born. We interacted with him again when going to Savanaclaw to investigate the "accidents", and then finally the showdown between overblot!Leona and Heartshackle(counting Cater and Riddle). It's the same way in The Lion King, Simba has like 2 on screen interactions with Scar before their showdown at the end.

Book 3 was very Yuu-centric, and that's because Ursula was incredibly active in trying to take down Ariel, much more effort compared to the previous two. Ariel had to take things into her own hands, very much like Yuu when their friends got roped into doing basically free labour for Azul. I don't think anymore needs to be added here.

Now onto book 4, also incredibly Yuu-centric! The Sea Witch and the Sorcerer of Sands are not that different in terms of taking care of their adversaries, after all. Aladdin was actively trying to mess with Jafar from day 1, and Jamil decided to avenge his ancestor by sending us off to the edge of the world/j (i dont believe in the great 7 being the overblot boys' ancestors🙏)

Book 5!! Time to talk about my Vil💜 Despite having to live under the same dust-laden roof of Ramshackle dorm, we barely talked with the gorgeous housewarden, obviously referencing how Snow White and the Evil Queen probably barely(or never) talked to each other despite living in the same castle. Though Evil Queen is more active in taking down Snow White after she finds out she's alive, I wish they'd(the writers) included more scenes where we talk and chat with Vil, even if it's just him insulting us💀(no im not saying this as a vil simp whatareyoutalkingabout/hj)

Woohoo we're on book 6🗣️ Hades was so sure that Hercules was dead and never bothered to double check lfmao, unlike Scar who would've been wasting resources and time, couldn't Hades, just like, teleport😭😭😭???

Okay getting off track here, my point is Hercules and Hades are probably the only hero and villain on this list where they'd met multiple times(ignoring jafar since aladdin didn't rlly know he was evil) Yuu definitely had their time to shine in book 6 and all the other characters had been amazing in this book. We had more Idia screentime around the start and the end, but with adequate screentime midway too. Say what you want but book 6 was my favourite.

Book 7 is still ongoing, as it has since I've joined the fandom😭🙏 But did Aurora even interact with Maleficent??? Someone PLEASE let me know, as book 7 is yet to finish, I won't be making assumptions

[star-fandoms]

LADS REDESIGNS!! + notes

Note: These are solely for fun, nothing wrong with the original designs and I still plan on drawing their original designs!

I used the Linkon Chibi Report cover because I couldn't be bothered to actually draw them all, my bad LMAO Here's the link to the Love and Deepspace twitter where I got it: https://x.com/Love_Deepspace

THE ART IS NOT MINE, JUST THE REDESIGNS!!(Which even then were highly inspired by the new Valentines cards!)

XAVIER

(His hair is 100% inspired by his "Deluded Fiction card.)

Uh but yeah, as for WHY I decided to go with this design, it has a bit to do with his lore. Please correct me if I get anything wrong, I'm not super aware of everything lore related(Esp not with Xavi's, too focused on Zayne and Caleb :,< )

But Xavier has been traveling for a while, and I think over time he would stop really caring about his appearance, more focused on defeating wanderers and trying to protect the mc.

I also feel like he'd eventually cut his hair again and brush it! So his longer hair is more so an early game thing lol

I also just love the idea of chronic bed head Xavier. Like I imagine his to be a still sleeper, but I think it'd be funny that no matter how still he sleeps, his hair just gets messy again LOL

I just felt like eyebags fit Xavier a lot. I also gave him a mole! I thought his face felt empty without a mole and for some reason I just keep thinking he has one and then I look at him and I'm shocked he doesn't have one LOL But I also think the whole "Your moles are where your lover kissed you most in your past life" soulmate thingy. I think it'd be cute if Daye(one of my mc's. But I think it'd be cute to see moles on where other's mc's kiss Xavier the most!) was a cheek kisser in every timeline.

I think it's like...pretty impossible for Xavier NOT to have a single scar, no matter how good he is right now. I honestly feel that way about most the men(Other then Zayne since he has scars) but like Xavi's a hunter and ur telling me I can't find a single scar on his body?? So I gave him one on his jaw and one on the corner of his mouth! There's multiple more scattered around his body as well!

Speaking of his body, I think he'd have a sleeper build LOL!! Just for those who don't know, a sleeper build is when someone doesn't look strong and doesn't have obvious muscle, but they're strong and the muscle is hidden. I mainly chose this cause of the name LOL

I also gave him heterochromia, I just thought it would look nice LOL

RAFAYEL

I made the tips of his fingers blue, I did think about red and I might try that honestly, but it's because he's a Lemurian. I wanted something kinda subtle to show that(Its not that subtle with Raf though since he's an artist and uses his hands LOL)

I did also give him longer hair and I wanted to keep it fluffy! I might also mess around with a bit more wavy hair! I also made one of his little side bangs just a bit longer for some asymmetry, I wanted to add hair clips but decided against actually drawing it in the end!

I also added a teal streak to his hair. I already like Raf's design so I wasn't really sure what to change, so this just seemed a little fun. I think its like a little artistic streak.

Raf does NOT have muscles, don't even play with me. No matter what the game shows, Raf will always be a little stick that I can pick up.

I also think that Raf might have a few tattoos! Not too many, I think he'd cry getting every tattoo cause it all hurts him. But I also think he would like to see his own body as kind of a canvas(This is also something that I do to myself and others. I love painting on myself and other people) That said I think after a while Raf probably decided against getting anymore tattoos and just doodles and paints on his body, he also likes that he gets to change it up more.

ZAYNE

okay...I prommy I wasn't going to originally give Zayne longer hair. I think the short and clean look suits Zayne and his personality well. But also...I think it's really fun to kind of imagine liking having long hair(A little throwback to "Master of Fate")

Anyways, Zayne with some of his hair tied back is WOOOOO MAMA!! I do wanna play around with a little ponytail too, which is what I think he'd actually do while performing surgeries.

I did give him eyebags as well. Bro works super late sometimes and struggles with nightmares and insomnia, yeah he has eyebags.

I didn't change too much about Zayne honestly. I was thinking about adding glasses permanently but also decided against that. Though I do really like Zayne in glasses so I wanna draw him in them more, I just also hate drawing glasses.

SYLUS

okay...most notably, Sylus has the longest hair! I don't know why but for some reason I always remembered his dragon form having long hair, which it literally doesn't. Anyways, long fluffy mullet Sylus supremacy idk. LOL

^ his hair also has a bit of a red gradient. I didn't want it to be too obvious, but his hair felt a little lacking without it!

Also I gave his arms a dark red gradient, I also think he'd have claws I just didn't draw them. These are also because...half dragon. I know they aren't the hands he had as a dragon, but I wanted them to be more human.

It's so subtle, but I gave him fangs.

I didn't even think about it but I might mess around with slightly pointed ears. a more subtle touch to show he's not human.

I did also think about giving him little horns and wings, but decided against that. I also decided again red streaks on his hair and landed on the gradient instead.

CALEB

Caleb is one of them I'm STICKING with long hair for. He looks so good with a mullet I feel like I belong in a psyche ward.

I gave him little white streaks in his hair, It's supposed to be heat damage but aesthetic from the ✨explosion✨ once again, not really meant to be realistic at all.

Its also so subtle, but I traced one of his pupils with red because I think it'd be even more tragic is Caleb had lost an eye and it got replaced with a mechanic one, like his arm. I think it'd be useful for scanning people and recording their actions too. And I think it'd also be tragic if his vision was warped from this eye, like it doesn't really view properly. I'd have to draw out what I mean eventually cause I don't think I'm making any sense.

i didn't do it but god, him having a little slit in his brow would be so good too, with like a little scar there.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my silly little redesigns! Once again the art I edited belongs to Love and Deepspace!

[p5-apotelesma]

YES!!!! it IS hauntingly accurate psychology for someone whos been through what he has. which makes them playing most violence towards him for laughs so stomach turning. godddddd and he still sees himself in some part as some angry asshole punk who fucked everything up.

and it was 100% about his team mates more than it ever was about him. of course he was pissed at kamoshida for the bullshit he was putting him through personally. anyone would be. but he was so much more pissed off on behalf of his team. who he saw getting abused every day. like. he was the star runner. he was CAPTAIN.

and kamoshida knew the kind of kid he was dealing with. each abuse dealt to ryujis team was another fork being stabbed into ryuji himself. kamoshida bringing up stuff from ryujis home life and spreading it around the school was just the fork that sent him over the edge. (and kamoshida got that information out of one of ryujis friends, who he hurt or blackmailed in order to do so.)

and we can clearly imagine how shujins well known oh-so-normal study body might have treated him when kamoshida started blabbing. hell, his ex-friends show us how. to his face. and in front of ren. comparing a child to his abuser. his mothers abuser. is fucked. (and lord knows how much ryuji might already worry about the ways he's like his father, in his temper) and ryuji could deal with the physical abuse. he could deal with the insults. all of which he'd learned to endure from his old man before. but. you talk about his family? you make the hell he and his momma had to endure the new school gossip? final straw. final fucking straw.

(im surprised he was even still attending shujin after the incident. i cant see his mom not wanting to pull him out. but i guess athletic scholarship money goes crazy though,,)

sometimes i think about how godawfully lonely he is before he meets ren. because he IS. and it hurts. it hurts a lot. (ryuji got attached to ren JUST as fucking quickly as ren got attached to him. honest to god) i think about how grueling his recovery must have been. nevermind physically. its hard enough emotionally. suddenly finding yourself physically disabled. but he was also abandoned and spat on by everyone who should have protected him and uplifted him.

except his mom. who felt like she had to apologize to him. and did. because shes feels guilt for not providing him with a full family. and god ryuji wanted to crumble into dust because making his mother worry that shes failing as a parent when shes wonderful for loving him and putting up with a rotten kid like him? he thinks thats his greatest sin of all.

thinking about how ryuji isnt really even like. always Conscious of how self destructive he can be at times?? nevermind how hes always like How can I protect everyone (often at the expense of himself) but like. when he told his former team mates to hit him if that would make them feel better?? likE HE JUST LET THEM BEAT HIM UP??????? CHILD?????

also atlus what The Fuck are you doing what is this writing why is ren just sTANDING AROUND. THE KID WHO GOT ARRESTED CAUSE HE STUCK HIS NOSE INTO A MATTER WHEN A STRANGER NEEDED HELP. WHY IS HE LETTING RYUJI TAKE ALL THESE LS. REN WOULD NEVER

ryuji: tells his angry ex-friends that they can hit him ren: NO?? NOT ALLOWED??

ren would sooner get in the way and risk getting expelled and ruining his future than let them hurt ryuji for something that was never his fault to begin with.

its like ryuji thinks. he can just be a human stress ball, if he makes someone he cares about angry. he isnt always good with words or apologizing so usually he just lets people kick the shit out of him if he thinks he had it coming. like. i have no doubt this kid had worthlessness beaten into him by his dad. emotionally and physically. (nevermind kamoshida) and i KNOW that a kid like ryuji would have tried to take the target off his mom if he could help it.

if hes going to get beat anyway, he might as well have some say over how and when it happens. trying to grasp at ANY control in his life. BUT JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK YOURE IN CONTROL CAUSE YOURE INVITING IT TO HAPPEN DOESNT MEAN THATS THE CASE...

but. god. due to everything hes been through. something in ryuji thinks he deserves more punishment than others for the same transgressions. hed take all the hits cause hey. hes…. good at taking hits.

dont talk to me im AUUUUHWHWAHGGG

[nczennie]

full sun.

Pairing: Reader x Haechan AU: Disney, Emperors New Groove Genre: Angst, Fluff Preview: You hum, “Someone must’ve snuck into your room. So either your guards failed you, or it was an inside job.” “Nonsense, I have the best guards in the world.” “And yet here you are.” You snap becoming frustrated, you wanted him to be safe but he was making it difficult. Words: 5.1k

You curse the emperor with every step you take up the hill to the palace. Choosing to ignore the burning in your lungs from the steepness of the walk in order to keep your fast pace.

“Who does he think he is? Ungrateful, privileged,” you trail off as you see the gates of the palace approaching. Everyone in the village knew of the kind of behavior that could be expected of the younger Emperor, but you had never had to deal with it first hand. 

Taking a deep breath, you walk towards to two guards standing watch at the gates. Showing them the letter you carried you explained, “I have a meeting with the Emperor.” They spare each other a glance before nodding you in. You hesitate just slightly, not expecting it to be this easy to walk in. You catch sight of another guard by the doors of the palace and make your way over to him. Before you could speak he opens motions for the large palace doors to be opened, “Follow me.” The deepness of his voice causes you to become nervous, finally realizing the situation. 

You were going to meet the Emperor for the first time, he was the all-mighty ruler. You may have had your annoyances with him, but the reality that he could do whatever he wanted to you if you angered him lingered heavily in your brain now. 

Following the guard down mazes of hallways, you look at the decor around you to distract yourself. Never in your life had you seen anything so extravagant. Gold detailing filled the place from top to bottom in endless depictions of the sun. There was nothing even close to this in the village where all the people lived, and though amazed, your annoyance grew even worse as the apparent money spent on the palace. 

The guard finally stops in front of two large doors, unsure of what to do, you stand there until given instruction. Just moments later you jump with a start as the doors open, looking on with horror as an elderly man is escorted out by guards. “You’re up.”  Gulping you walk slowly through the doors. Only the sound of your footsteps could be heard, echoing in the emptiness as the only piece of furniture is the large gold throne in the front of the room.  Your eyes stay focused on the ground as your afraid to look at him. Was there a proper way to greet him? You’re not sure, you’ve never even seen him before as he is not one to interact with the villagers. 

Finally you let your eyes slowly wander to the Emperor, he sits with a bored expression on his face. Head resting against his fist, elbow on the armrest. You knew he was a young Emperor, around your age, since the death of his parents, but looking at him now he seems too young to be ruling an Empire.  Perhaps that’s why he’s so bad at it. 

“Well?” he finally speaks and you find your annoyance growing in your chest once again.   

“I received this letter this morning, regarding purchasing my land.” You state, holding up the letter you found nailed to your door when you woke up. He seems to recall it as he perks up at the mention, sitting up straight, a small smile coming to his face.  “Yes, I will pay you 100 gold coins.” He motions for the guards, maybe to get the money but you have no interest. 

“No,” you simply state, heart thudding in your chest as you take in the amount of armed guards in the room. There’s a silence that follows, the Emperor obviously shocked at the reluctance. He finally throws his hands up, shaking his head, “What would you require then, 400?”

“It is not a question of gold,” you will your voice to stay firm, “I have no desire to sell my land, no matter the price.”

He blinks slowly at you, “I don’t recall the letter asking for your permission.” He was right. The letter was not an offer, but a demand. Either way, you had to fight it. 

“I am the village’s only healer, my home is where I do my work. If you take it from me there goes my home as well as the only place where I can help people.” He huffs, rolling his eyes at you, “With the gold I give you, you can buy a new home. You could even buy a home and a seperate place for your work. Therefore you should be thanking me.”

You become flustered, face burning red, “My land is more than that.” Taking a quick breath to keep you from stumbling, you continue, “All on the land of my home is fields full of growing plants that I use for my work. As I mentioned, I am a healer and I use all of these to make medicine for my patients. Without my land I can’t do as such.” 

Maybe you were expecting to strike some sort of cord within the Emperor, but you watched as he merely shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “Let me show you what I am planning to do with your land,” he snaps and a person comes wheeling out a 3D diagram with what you assume was your land.  The Emperor motions you to come forward so you do, slowly, looking at the 3D model. Your eyebrows furrow, “A community pool?” you question him and he laughs, “Community? No, this pool is for me. I had all the land surveyed and I noticed the land you own is obviously the best spot for me pool. It gets the most sunlight since it is slightly west of the mountains unlike the rest of the town.”

You want to argue with him, of course you know this, how else would you be able to grow all of your medical herbs and plants. But instead you merely stand your ground, “I’m sorry, but I will not sell my land, even if it is the perfect spot for your pool.” The Emperor is quick to glare at you, “500 gold coins is for your final answer, take that or else I’ll-” The young ruler is unable to finish the threat as a woman moves forward to interrupt him, “Now Haechan, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.” You look at the older woman, slightly doing a double take at her farfetched eye makeup. 

Watching on as the Emperor groans, leaning back in his throne you look confused. “Yzma,” he speaks, “We already talked about how much I needed this land for the pool.” She gives a condescending smile to the boy, “I understand, but let’s not scare the girl off,” she turns to smile at you, “The Emperor offers you 500 gold coins for your land, I hope you understand how great that offer is. Now take the night to think it over, yeah? Come back here tomorrow afternoon.” 

You want to argue that no matter the amount of time you will not accept any offer, but you worry about the unfinished threat from the Emperor earlier. So instead you nod, bowing at the Emperor before taking your leave. 

That night you wander through the fields beside your house, using the light from the moon to help you harvest the peppermint leaves. You’ve spent the day tending to your patients; stitching an arm up, helping a young girl with a fever, and even delivering a baby. It was a busy day that left you little to no time for think about your encounter with the Emperor.

But now in the quietness, you can’t help but stress.  You were supposed to return tomorrow with your answer, however you had a feeling it was either agree or they force you out one way or another. Sure with the great amount of money they offered you could relocate, but no place could replace the vast fields of plants and herbs that you used daily or the sentimental value. Even if you were to replant some, your supply would drop drastically. Especially seeing as the Emperor planned to totally demolish the land. 

You tredge to the stream, kneeling to pick some chamomile when you notice something floating from the corner of your eye. Turning your full attention to it, you let out a gasp, standing and tumbling across the water to where it washed ashore. 

Gulping as you come closer, you notice you were right. It was a human floating in the water. Using all your strength to pull them fully on dry land, you move to flip them over. 

“Oh no,” you cry out as you see the face of the young Emperor. You quickly check his pulse, relieved that it was still there but you quickly began pushing down on his chest. Who knew how long he was in the water and how much got into his lungs. “C’mon.” You groan continuing your pulses before leaning to breathe into his mouth, hand covering his nose.  

Finally as you pull away for the second time, he jerks coughing, water spilling over his lips. He breathes heavily as you move him to his side but does not fully regain consciousness. Now you must figure out how to drag him back to your house to tend to him there.

The birds chirp in the morning light as you sip your tea, walking back into your house from collecting the newspaper. 

‘EMPEROR MISSING’ it reads in large print and you sigh closing the door behind you. Walking to where the young emperor sits in your bed barely noticing your presence he’s so busy eating his breakfast. 

He had woken up about an hour ago confused and hungry, but thankfully no sign of memory loss. “Everyone is looking for you.” You say walking beside him and handing him the newspaper. He looks up at you, mouth full of food before grabbing the paper. “Yzma to act as Empress until further notice...” Haechan reads before scoffing. “She’s not even of royal blood, I’ll be back in an hours time.” He states before returning to his food, clearly having no concept of how far the palace was from the town.

“Who is this Yzma anyways?” You ask moving to clear the kitchen. “My advisor.” Haechan states with a full mouth causing you to grimace. “She served on the council for my father so when my parents passed they assigned her to be my advisor until I came of age. But she does all the hard work so I keep her around even now.”

You stay silent, pursing your lips. “Well, that was delicious. I’ll be off to the palace now.” He places his dishes on the nightstand before standing. You rush beside him, unsure of his condition. “You’re just going to go back?” You look at him like he’s crazy but he gives you the same look back. “Of course I am. What else am I to do? Surely not stay here in town.”

Rolling your eyes you ignore the comment. “I mean is it safe? Clearly someone intended to kill you back at the palace and you don’t even know who.” Haechan blinks slowly, as if it just dawned on him how he ended up here in the first place.

“You really think someone did this on purpose?” He says and you raise your eyebrows. “I treated your wound. Someone obviously hit you in the back of the head before dumping you in the stream to die.” 

He scratches his cheek and you can’t tell if he’s thinking or zoning out. “You’re sure you don’t remember anything?” You ask him again and he nods. “Like I said I was in my room about to get into bed and that’s the last I remember.”

You hum, “Someone must’ve snuck into your room. So either your guards failed you, or it was an inside job.” 

“Nonsense, I have the best guards in the world.”

“And yet here you are.” You snap becoming frustrated, you wanted him to be safe but he was making it difficult. “Well what do you suggest I do?” He throws his hands up. “Is there someone in the palace you trust the most? Maybe we can get you to them and tell them what happened.” You try.

“It has to be Yzma.” He says, “She’s been with me since I was a kid, since my parents passed.” You nod, “Okay, perfect. We’ll find a way to get you to her without anyone else seeing so she can help figure out who did this.”

Haechan nods, licking his lips in determination. “Right, okay. How do we sneak in though if there are guards everywhere?” You take a moment to think. When you walked to the top of the hill yesterday the whole trail was covered with guards. But you remember as a child taking a trip with your grandfather. “We’ll go the back way. There’s a secret trail on the back of the hill we can take. It just might take longer.”

“How long exactly?” He asks with a frown. “A day.”

“What?!” He sounds esaperated, “You wanted me to spend a night outside?” You roll your eyes at him, “You have a head injury, you can’t push yourself that hard. We need to take our time.” He runs his hands over his face before sighing, “Alright, fine. But we need to leave as soon as possible.”

Sighing as you tie your bag up you look at Haechan who looks unamused from where he sits. “Alright, we can head out.” He rolls his eyes, “About time.” You send him a glare as you place the bag on your back, “We have to be prepared, it’s a long journey. We need food, something for shelter, your medicine..” You trail trying to make your point. 

You follow the emperor outside, closing your door behind you, placing the note you wrote on your door. It was the only way to let anyone know you’d be out for the day. 

Quietly he lets you take the lead and you head further into the lush jungle and towards a tiny trail that rarely sees anyone but animals. You both trek quietly until the boy finally speaks, “Why do you think someone wanted me dead?”

Blinking harshly as you continue your pace, you don’t look back at him. “Well you’re the emperor, they could want power. Or maybe you did something to make them angry.” You say knowing a lot of town people don’t exactly agree with the reckless ruling and spending of the young ruler. 

“Nonsense.” He says loudly, “There’s no one who would disagree with me. Except you of course.”

You stop abruptly turning to face him and he nearly stumbles into you, “Excuse me?” 

Haechan frowns at you, “Yeah, you won’t willingly give me your land.” You shake your head, “You don’t realize how important my land is.” He merely rolls his eyes so you speak again, “I can’t be the only one who disagrees with you.” You know it’s true, you hear what the people say around town. 

“You are. Except two others who I had to have imprisoned but everyone else knows my power and it’s something you should learn too.” You raise your eyebrows and he continues and starts to walk in front of you down the trail, “I am of royal blood, descended from the sun god himself. I was made to rule over this land, over these people. What I say goes and what I say is correct. There is no other way.”

Your cheeks burn with anger and your mind flashes of what would have been if you left him in the stream last night. But you take a deep breath before continuing on the trail. 

“Then why do you think someone tried to kill you?” You ask and you see him shrug in front of you. “Don’t know. Can’t think of any reason why.”

It’s been a long day of travel with Haechan, from the humidity and steep hills to Haechans constant whining and insisting on stopping and snacking. 

Now the sun was nearly setting but you were more worried about the rumbling of thunder and the dark clouds that were rolling in at an alarming pace. After a particularly close strike of lightning, you look around before dropping your bag to the floor. “We need to set up shelter here.”

The emperor frowns looking around, “You said we would be there in a day. Can’t we keep going?” He looks up, the top of the hill where the palace was at didn’t seem too far. 

You don’t even spare him a glace, working on getting one of the tarps out of your bag instead. “No.” You say bluntly, “It’s going to rain- to storm. We need shelter, it’s not safe to keep going now.”

The wind starts to pick up making it more difficult for you to move the tarp the way you want it. You spot a tree branch that nearly reaches the side of the hill where a small ledge pokes out. It seems like the best placement, so you drag it over and start to throw it over the branch. 

“I’m not staying here.” Haechan speaks up over the wind and thunder, “I’ll walk the rest of the way myself if I have to.” 

“Don’t be stupid!” You call out, blinking as it starts to drizzle. “Bring me some rocks, big ones. We can place them on the ridge to keep the tarp in place.” You grab some string from your bag tying down the edge to the branch. 

“Don’t forget who you speak to!” Haechan shouts and you pause to look at him, raining now falling harder. “I am the emperor! I will not take orders from someone like you! If I say we keep going, we keep going!” 

You pull the knot tightly, letting the branch snap back up, ignoring Haechan as well as the annoyance growing in your chest. Instead you move to gather rocks, grabbing as much as you can before moving to the tarp again. 

“Listen to me!” Haechan shouts again, moving closer, “Why do you insist on disobeying everything I say!” His voice is dark, seeming truly angry now causing you to look at him. “Leave all this, we are going! Now!” 

Another clap of thunder rings out and you break. “Look around, we are not going anywhere! You’ll die before you even get to the palace. Stop acting like an incompetent leader and grab the damn rocks!” You scream over the rain. 

He freezes staring at you as the rain grows harder. Without another word he grabs the rocks and silently helps you place them on the ridge, keeping the tarp in place. 

You both move under the shelter and you pull out a blanket from the bag placing it on the ground and you both sit. The rain and wind continue to roar loudly and you take a small towel you packed. “Let me see your head, I need to reapply your medicine.” You speak. 

He hesitates but moves, allowing you to dry and apply the salve to his wound. Once done you both sit quietly again until Haechan finally speaks up. “I’m not as stupid as they say I am you know.”

You keep your gaze on the thread of the blanket you’ve been messing with, suddenly feeling guilty. “I didn’t-” You start but he interrupts. 

 “A little naive, yes. But you have to realize they only tell me what they want me to hear. I’m not allowed to leave the palace.”

You turn to look at him surprised by this, “Why?”

“I’m the only living heir to the throne, the last blood connected to the sun god. Since the accident with my parents they needed to keep me safe. At least until I have an heir of my own. The blood line could end with me.”  

You pause, listening to the rain as you take in your words.  You’ve never thought, you you doubt the people in town did either, that Haechan staying cooped up in the palace was anything but his choice. 

“Do the people really hate me that much?” He asks and you can hear the sadness radiating from his voice. “They don’t hate you, it’s just...” You stop yourself trying to think of the right words to say. “They’re frustrated Haechan. We see the amount of money being spent on the palace but most of town is struggling to pay for necessities. They just don’t feel like they’re being heard.” 

Explaining it as gently as you can, you hope he sees where you’re coming from. Minutes pass of silence, nothing but the rain hitting the tarp could be heard. But the emperor finally speaks again. “I didn’t know people were struggling. They don’t inform me about anything. Yzma says I don’t need to worry about that stuff.”

“Whenever I asked to build something in the palace, they would do it without a question. I guess I just thought if there was a problem with the spending they would have suggested I don’t. I’ve never been told no.” He rants running his hand over his face. “And anytime someone from town would come to see me, they would introduce them in a way that made it seem they were only out for trouble. Like it was weird for them to even be visiting me. I never once considered they really needed my help. Maybe I really am incompetent.” 

He sighs and you frown. “We didn’t know, Haechan. No one knows that they made you stay away from the town, we all just figured you thought you were too good for us.” His lips form a pout. 

“But I’m sure we can fix that, you can send an announcement to the people and tell them the truth. They’ll surely understand then.” You try to brighten his mood. Suddenly you feel bad for the young emperor who was forced to stay in the palace, not knowing an ounce of truth about his empire in hopes of keeping him safe to continue the bloodline. Perhaps he is misunderstood afterall. 

“Maybe you can help me!” Haechan suddenly says brightly, turning to face you. “You probably know the towns people better than anyone else. You can let me know what I can do to fix it!” You look at him hesitantly, “Maybe.” You simply say. 

The rain continues for the next couple of hours as you and Haechan lay side by side on the blanket. The temperature as dropped dramatically and you both wordless moved as close as possible to each other to find a source of warmth. 

“I hate the rain.” Haechan suddenly says and you try to find his gaze in the dark. “Why?”

“It was raining when I found out about my parents accident.” He says nonchalauntly causing you to gulp. You vaguely remember the incident, both you and the emperor were merely kids then. But you remember the whole town mourning when they announced the emperor and empress has died an accident after visiting the town over. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, “Were you close to them?”

“Very much so. I loved them and they loved me. It was the last time I probably felt love. Before I was pushed onto the throne as a child who only wanted his parents back.” 

You can imagine a young Haechan sitting in the cold throne room, struggling to understand what was happening. Your stomach turned at the thought and you let yourself reach down to hold his hand giving it a squeeze.  He doesn’t pull away. 

“Are you close to your family?” He asks.

Swallowing, you answer slowly. “My mother died giving birth to me and my father died a couple years after your parents. He got a sickness from one of his patients and never recovered.”

You think you see him turn to look at you but you can’t quite tell in the dark. “I’m sorry.” He says. 

“It’s okay. I was raised by my grandparents. They taught me all about healing and medicine to continue the practice. Unfortunately they both passed a couple of years ago, but they were quite old.”

You feel Haechan squeeze your hand that still rests in his. 

“Perhaps we understand each other more than we think.” He says and you both fall asleep to the sound of rain, hands remaining intertwined. 

The morning air is crisp but the sky is blue as you and Haechan pack up the shelter you created for the night. Unlike before, he willing helps you fold the tarp and blanket before placing them into your bag. 

As you both continue on the trail Haechan talks excitedly about a newspaper he plans on printing. One that would inform the town people of the misunderstanding between them. Of how he had ideas to create a new budget for everyone to use. 

The palace was now in view but you both stopped to quickly eat before making it up the last of the hill. 

“I don’t think I ever told you thank you.” Haechan looks at you, “For saving my life, for bringing me back. For telling me the truth.” 

You smile genuinely at him. “Of course. Thank you for listening.” You say back and he smiles too. “Hopefully with Yzma’s help I can quickly figure out who did this to me and why they did it.” Nodding along you start to worry that bringing him back here would only put him in more danger. 

But Haechan doesn’t seems to worried as he goes back to rambling about his future plans. “And of course I’ll see you again when I come to properly buy your land. I’ll actually have the right paperwork.”

Your stomach drops and you look to see if he was joking, “What?” You say and stand to your feet, “You seriously still want to buy my land, after everything?” 

He frowns at you, “No, no. You see it won’t be just a pool for me anymore. It’ll be for the community. They’ll see how I can change and spend for them too.” He nods optimistically at you. 

Furrowing your eyebrows you feel your face start to burn, “I can’t believe you’re still trying to buy my land after everything that’s happened! I told you I need my land Haechan. It has everything I need for healing, it’s been in my family for generations, it’s the only thing I have left of them! You can’t just take it from me!” You confess feeling tears starting to burn your eyes. 

Haechan blinks at you but there’s no time to argue as a group of palace guards come from around the corner. “There!” A lady, Yzma, as you recognize her shouts. “There is the emperor! Take that girl quickly into custody.”

You look at her in shock, “Me?” you ask confused as she makes her way to Haechan and the guards walk towards you. 

“Didn’t you hear her!” She says, “She refuses to sell the emperor her land and has taken him in retaliation!” 

“No!” You panic as the guards roughly grab you, “That’s not it! Haechan!” You shout trying to look at him as they pull you away but you only see a lost look on his face.

Haechan sits in the large dining room eating a warm meal, only Yzma across from him and some guards posted on the door. 

“Thanks for taking over while I was gone.” He says simply, staring at his food. She gives him a familiar smile, “It was my pleasure.” 

There’s silence again and Haechan thinks of you. He doesn’t believe you were the one who did this of course, but Yzma refused to release you, saying it wasn’t safe. Haechan insisted on starting an investigation after telling her someone dumped him in a stream but she claimed there was no reason to with you locked up. 

Haechan has full power over her as emperor but there was something about her that made her hard to say no to. She has been telling him what to do since his parents passed. 

“I’m not that hungry, I’ll head to my room now.” He announces standing from his chair. She nods not looking up at him, “Of course, I’ll send the healer in to look at your head injury.”   

Haechan freezes in his place. 

When telling her the story of what happened, he merely said he was dumped in the stream. He didn’t once mention the injury on his head.

His stomach fills with dread as he realizes the betrayal. Memories flashing of when he found comfort in the woman when he was a young boy, crying over the death of his parents. Yet after it all, it was she who tried to kill him. All for some power. 

“It was you.”

“Thank you! Please enjoy the festivities!” Haechan shouts over the crowd as they cheer for him. You smile, clapping along with the crowd as you stand beside the emperor. 

The town was holding a celebration for your healing center, as Haechan has invested in digging waterways in order for easier managing of your crops. Now you didn’t have to do as much work to maintain the fields. 

It was one of many steps Haechan as taken in healing his relationship with his people and showing them what he was really capable of.  They all adored this new and improved leader and looked up to him and all he’s done. 

“Congratulations.” He speaks turning to you with a smug smile. “I know you really just want me to congratulate you.” You tease him and he shrugs, “It would be appreciated.” 

You laugh softly, stepping closer, leaning to placing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips. You pull away noticing the reddening of his cheeks as you whisper in his ear, “Congratulations Haechan, and thank you.”

“I don’t know why you’re so shy, we’ve kissed before you know.” You state and he only turns further red. “What? No we haven’t! When?” He’s flustered and confused as you laugh.

“When I saved you of course, I had to give you mouth to mouth to get you breathing again.”

His mouth opens and closes as he thinks. “That-that doesn’t count.” He whines which only causes you to laugh loudly. Continuing to giggle as he grabs your hand to pull you closer, placing his hand gently on your cheek in order to pull you in for a proper first kiss.

Copyright © 2025 by nczennie. All rights reserved.

[leafnyx]

You don’t have to write a part 3 for the Nam-gyu x male reader fic, BUT if you decide to you got a prime reader right here!😛🙏🏻

Death Games and Attachments #3 (Nam-gyu x male reader)

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: American reader ‼️, possibly ooc, talk of death, smoking, fairly rushed ending, happy/hopeful ending, open ending (?)

Setting: Post-season 2

A/n: Multiple people asked for a part three so here it is! This will be the last part of this fic, thank you guys so much for reading all of this and enjoying my writing :)

You wake up to the sound of music playing over the speakers and a weight in your arms. You blink your eyes open, immediately realize you aren’t at home. The first thing you see is Nam-gyu’s face, still asleep. The two of you are snuggling, face to face, and it seems like you have been for a while because your arm that is beneath him hurts like hell.

You wiggle your arm from underneath him as gently as possible, not wanting to wake him up, before realizing he’s gonna have to wake up anyways. You continue pulling your arm out but you make no move to be gentle now.

Nam-gyu wakes up with you moving him around. Ulike yesterday he makes no move to complain, just sitting up and rubbing his eyes with his palm.

“You ready for the game?” He asks you in a yawn.

“We’re gonna need to vote first” You reply, sitting up aswell.

“Shit, I forgot about that… some pussies are probably gonna fuck up the vote”

You hum in response, looking around at the 100 people left in the game walking around the room. It’s way less crowded than it was when you first came here.

You begin thinking about your vote. Part of you wants to vote X, you want to go home, but the other part of you wants to vote O just so you don’t feel like you betrayed your group.

You hope someone else changes their vote to X so you don’t have to decide.

The doors open in the front and the guards walk out. Nam-gyu hops off the bed and scrambles to get the shoes on, you do the same, before the both of you run off in the direction of Thanos. You’re able to spot his easily because of his bright purple hair and the two of you find him in no-time.

To your surprise, Nam-gyu doesn’t immediately ask Thanos for a pill, he just stands in the crowd waiting for his number to get called.

“Vote O, okay?” Thanos says in English.

You nod and so does Nam-gyu even though you don’t think he fully knows what Thanos is saying. The numbers are called up starting at 1, so you’re gonna have to vote before the other two.

You’ve decided to vote for O and just hope that someone from the O side has changed their mind and votes X. You don’t want to be seen as a traitor like Se-mi and Min-su.

Soon a voice calls “118” and you step forward. You pause infront of the button and raise your hand towards it. Your hand hovers over the X button but you ultimately press O, sticking to your guts.

You walk over to the blue side and look back at Thanos and Nam-gyu who are smiling at you and holding their thumbs up. You’re pretty sure you did the right thing.

“124” Nam-gyu walks up and presses O without a second thought, he proceeds to walk over to you and sling an arm over your shoulder. You don’t say anything about it, not minding the touch.

Min-su is called up after and as he walks to the podium you can see Nam-gyu’s face beside you turn to a scowl. Min-su presses X.

“Pussy..” Nam-gyu mutters. “I knew we shouldn’t have let him on the team.”

“Yeah” You reply, just brushing him off and not really agreeing with his sentiment. Min-su isn’t that bad, he’s just scared and honestly you get it. He’s lucky to have a friend like Se-mi.

After a few minutes Thanos’ number is called and he half-runs half-skips up to the front and slams his hand down on the circle button. The votes are tied.

After a few more people vote it’s almost done and no one has changed their vote yet until one of the last few people. A woman with an O patch walks forward, you saw her with the crazy shaman lady earlier. Her hand hovers over the O button before she suddenly presses X. Cheers erupt on the side of the X’s and your mouth drops. You look over to the shaman and she looks pissed but she’s trying to hide it.

“Fuck” You hear from beside you.

You look over at Nam-gyu, whose hand is still around your shoulder, and he looks somewhat nervous.

You need 2 X’s to change their votes to continue the game and 1 to tie, though no one wants another 50/50. But you doubt that it’s going to happen, the X’s all seem scared, especially after the last game. There’s no way an X is gonna change their vote.

There’s numbers go up until it’s 456’s turn to vote, but by then it doesn’t matter, the votes are 50-49 The X’s won. 456 pushes the X button and the screen changes to 51-49. He smiles as he turns around. The X’s cheer but your side is silent.

“Mother fuckers..” Nam-gyu says beside you.

“I’m gonna kill Min-su next time I see him” You hear Thanos say from the other side of Nam-gyu.

The room starts to fill up with gas as the guards step back through the doors. An O tries to make a run for it but they don’t make it on time, slamming onto the shut door. Nam-gyu’s hand clutches onto your jacket and your hand beside him grabs onto his.

Your vision goes blurry and you start to feel tired. You hear people beside you colapsing onto the floor and you’re dragged down as Nam-gyu falls unconscious. You hit the ground and pass out.

-

You wake up and open your eyes but you can’t see anything. You blink, you know your eyes are open, but it’s all dark. You try to speak but there’s something covering your mouth, all that comes out is mumbles. You realize your arms and legs are tied up as well and you’re very cold. You wiggle around but you can’t do much, you’re in a confined place. You hear someone trying to speak beside you but they can’t either.

Is this how they’re getting you out of the game? They could at least be a bit gentler and not have you are bound up.

A rush of wind comes in and you shudder before you’re suddenly pushes forward onto concrete.

You let out a muffled yell. You hear someone fall down beside along with some less heavy things being tossed out, then the sound of a car driving off.

You wiggle around the ground, now having more space but your movement is still limited. Suddenly, your hand touches something else, it feels fleshy. You touch around the person, you think you’re touching their arms. Your hand moves down and you feel a rope. You do your best to undo the rope, it takes a few tries but eventually you manage to get it off.

You hear the person move around, probably going to sit upright. After a few seconds of the sounds of cloth you hear.

“[name]?” It’s Nam-gyu. Immediately you feel relieved that you weren’t left here with some random person. You try to tell him to untie the ropes on your wrist but one again it’s all muffled. You wiggle your arms for emphasis and he gets the message.

He undoes the ropes as quick as possible, which really isn’t all that fast. Once your hands are free you take off the blindfold and the thing around your mouth. You let out a sigh, looking over to see Nam-gyu untying the wipe from his angled. He’s just in his underwear and you see that you are aswell. You see plastic bags beside the two of you and move to undo the wipe around your ankles so you can get changed.

One you have the rope off, and you throw it to the side, you grab the bag and untie it. Inside is your clothes, your phone which you had on you when you entered the game, and a lump of money. Your mouth goes dry, even though the money didn’t seem like all that much when it was up on the screen, seeing it like this. It’s a shit ton. Atleast more than wat you’re used to here.

You snap out of it and grab your shirt and pants, quickly moving to put them on, followed by socks and your shoes. Once you’re done you look over at Nam-gyu who’s also changed and looking around. The two of you are in an alley and the sun is setting in the sky above you. You don’t recognize your surroundings but it seems like Nam-gyu does.

“We’re outside club pentagon” He points at a small light up sign by the metal door on the wall. “I work here, my apartment is close”

You ask where exactly the two of you are and he answers. You realize where you’re currently living is no where close to here.

“You can stay over at mine for the night” Nan-gyu says. “It’s crappy but it’s good enough for the night. They you can take a cap back home in the morning, I’m sure with the money we got you’ll have enough to buy one.”

You smile. “Alright, lead the way” You grab your phone out of the bag and click it on before realizing it’s dead. You put it into your pocket and tie up the bag with your money in it before following Nam-gyu out of the alley.

The walk to his apartment is quiet, Nam-gyu doesn’t make any move to touch you or even get too near you. It’s like the two of you don’t know each other, like you didn’t go through a life or death situation together.

But ultimately you get it. Especially since you were just left to go. You assume he’s still trying to make sense of everything that happened, and you are too. You just hope that you’re able to go back to how it was between the two of you before. Yesterday.

It really doesn’t feel like it was just yesterday, it feels like you’ve known Nam-gyu for forever. It’s probably because of the situation you two went through together.

You walk up to a small, fairly dirty appartment building. Nam-gyu steps through the door and you follow. You’re greeted by a set of stairs which the two of you walk up until you reach the 5th floor. You walk through a small, cramped hallway. Nam-gyu stops in front of door 503 and takes a key out of his pocked, putting it into the handle and pushing the door open.

He steps through the door and you follow suit. Inside is a small living room with a kitchenette. There’s two doors, one you assume leading to a bedroom and one a bathroom. The room is fairly messy but it’s not too bad, it’s an organized type of messiness. For the most part, but there are a few piles of whatnot in the corners of the room.

Nam-gyu walks over to the kitchen and opens the cabinets, going through it.

“All I have is ramen, so I hope you’re fine with that cause if not you’re not eating”

You laugh. “I’ll absolutely eat it, I’m starving, we haven’t had a proper meal in days.”

“Yeah, fuck I’m hungry as hell”

He grabs two packs of cheap ramen and puts them on the counter.

“Oh, do you have a changer? My phones dead” You ask, remembering your phone in your pocket.

“Yeah I should have one in my bedroom, you can go find it.”

You nod and walk over to a door, you open it and it’s the bedroom. First try.

You walk in. It’s fairly cramped with a small bed in the corners of the room. There’s a dresser up against the wall beside the door and piles of clothes everywhere. You spot a socket on the wall with a clone charger cord coming out of it. You walk up and hope it’s the goth cord for your phone.

You get your phone and push the cord up against it and.. it goes it. You let out a sigh of relief, placing your phone on the ground, and you stand up from where you were crouched down. You look around the room again briefly and your eyes land on a pair of round glasses on a nightstand beside Nam-gyu’s bed.

You walk back out of the room. “You wear glasses?” You ask Nam-gyu.

“Yeah, I’ve had to for a while, I’m basically blind.”

“Why weren’t you wearing them in the game?”

“It’s embarrassing, man. I don’t wear them out of my house.”

“Whattt, it’s not embarrassing. You need them to see. Anyways, you’d probably look good with them on.” You walk up beside him and lean onto the counter.

He’s put a pot on the stove with water in it which is currently heating up.

“Yeah, sure” He says, brushing you off.

You smile at him. “You’re house is a mess by the way”

“Shut up, I don’t usually have guests around. Either way, atleast I know where everything is, it’s a clean sort of messy.”

“Mhm, sure” You glance over to the piles of junk on the floor.

“Fuck off, if you’re gonna complain then get out” He says, obviously joking.

“Nah”

He drops one of the packs of ramen into the pot and breaks it up with a chopstick. He then drops the second one in, breaking that one up aswell. He puts the chopsticks off to the side, letting the ramen cook.

“What do you think happened to Thanos?” You ask, not expecting an actual answer. You don’t care all that much for Thanos but you spent the past few days with him as well so you’ve come to see him as a friend, even if he doesn’t see you as such and even if he’s annoying as hell.

“He probably got kicked out naked like us. Image he got kicked out with Min-su” Nam-gyu snickers.

“I hope not, Min-su’ll end up dead” You laugh.

“Serves him right.” Nam-gyu says. He picks up two packets of spices that came with the rakes and pours the contents in, mixing it around. “But I’ll probably see him again at the club… well if I manage to get my job back.”

“Yeah.” You realize that you’ve also been gone for a few days, maybe even a week, without telling your employers where you’ve been. The thought worries you but you but you don’t deal with it right now, you haven’t eaten anything all day and the ramen is starting to smell good. You peek over Nam-guy’s shoulder to check on the food.

“You almost done?” You ask.

“Give me a second, damn.” He swats you off, but as you go to stand beside him again his hand rests on your arm. It seems like he’s still as clingy outside the game. You don’t mind it, it’s somewhat endearing, which you think is a weird term to refer to Nam-gyu, a drugged up asshole, with.

He soon removes his hand, though, to grab the pot off of the stove. He places it on the counter and turns the stove off. Nam-gyu grabs two bowls out of a cabinet and hands them to you.

“Put them on the table” You nod and put them onto a small two-seater table in the corner of the room. You place one bowl infront of each seat and Nam-gyu walks up with the pot and places it in the middle. He walks back to the kitchen and grabs two pairs of chopsticks before pausing.

“You know how to use chopsticks, right?” He says, teasingly.

“Of course I know how to use chopsticks, I’ve lived here long enough.”

He walks back over and throws a pair of chopsticks infront of you before grabbing is own and getting some of the ramen out of the pot and dropping it into the bowl, quickly eating what he got. You do the same, grabbing a small portion and eating it within the span of seconds.

“God, ramen has never tasted so good” You say, with food in your mouth.

“Fuck yeah” Nam-gyu say, grabbing more ramen out of the pot. His hair falls forward onto his face but he quickly pushes it back.

The two of you finish up the two packets of ramen in less than 10 minutes.

The conversation doesn’t start back up immediately, both of you sitting in silence, but you speak up with something that’s been on your mind.

“If you got the chance to, would you want to go back into the games?”

Nam-gyu stays quiet for a few seconds before responding. “Probably not. It was easy to keep going when I was already in it, and with the help of the pills, but now that I’m out of it I don’t think I’d have the courage to go back.”

You nod, his answer more thoughtful than you expected but not fully unexpected. You understand the sentiment, and you expected that part of the reason he was so confident with continuing was Thanos’ mystery pills.

“What about you?” He asks.

“Same. If I’m being honest I wanted to go home for a bit but I stayed because of you and Thanos. I felt more confident with you guys, like there was an actual chance for me to get far in it.”

“Huh” Is all Nam-gyu says to respond. The conversation stops there, Nam-gyu picks up the pot and you get the bowls and chopsticks. The both of you drop everything in the sink, Nam-gyu making a passing comment about dealing with it later before excusing himself to the bathroom.

You sit back down at the table and think. You wonder if your life is going to be any different now. You have more money, sure, but it’s not enough to cover everything. It’ll give you a good push forward either way.

But will the game itself affect you? You’re out of it but it was a fairly traumatizing situation. You feel fine now, but that’s probably because you haven’t fully processed what happened yet.

Truthfully you don’t know if you’ll be able to go back to your daily 9 to 5. It’s only been a few days since you were there but it feels like everything’s changed. You guess that’s your answer. It might feel different but it won’t be all that different physically. Well as long as you get your job back.

You snap out of your thoughts as Nam-gyu walks back towards you.

“Fuck I want those drugs Thanos had right now” He immediately says. “Do you want a smoke?”

“Nah”

“Alright” He walks off to his room and you decide to follow him. He grabs a cigarette from a drawer along with a lighter and opens the window before lighting his smoke. Outside it’s basically dark, you can’t believe it’s already nighttime since you feel like you just woke up. You suppose you were probably knocked out most of the day.

“So, are you always so touchy?” You ask, curious if he was clinging to you because he likes you or if it’s just something he does.

“Not usually, only with people I like” He replies, taking a drag. “I did it with Thanos, though, cause it was useful sticking to him. He helped me through the games and let me have some of his drugs. I thought he was stupid at first but he isn’t all that bad.” Nam-gyu rambles on.

He explained why he did it with Thanos but now with you. So that would mean he just likes you, right? You decide not to bring it up yet.

“Yeah, honestly Thanos was kinda funny. I found him annoying first though”

Nam-gyu laughs. “Same, the first time I met him in the club I hated him, he looked so cocky and self centered. But then I realized it’s probably to make up for him being insecure.”

“Hm, yeah a lot of people do that. The drugs definitely helped make him louder and more confident though.”

“Even without them he tried flirting with that girl in the first game, it was so embarrassing I walked away, pretended I didn’t know him the whole game.”

You laugh at that, you’re pretty sure you saw the first bit of it but walked away as to not experience him embarrassing himself.

After a bit Nam-gyu snuffs out the cigarette on the windowsill and throws the but outside.

“Fuck nature.” You say, jokingly, moving to go get your phone from the charger.

Nam-gyu huffs and closes the window. You pick up your phone, it’s not fully charged but it’s good enough so you unplug it. Once it turns back on you see new texts. You turn your phone off and put it into your pocket, looking over at Nam-gyu.

“Are you tired at all?” You ask him.

“Nope”

“Me neither, feels like I just got up”

“Well there’s not much to do around here”

“… if I lay down I’ll go to sleep eventually.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

“You can sleep in my bed” Nam-gyu quickly says. “I’m sure there’s enough space for both of us” Now there’s definitely no excuse for the two of you to sleep in the same bed but you find there’s no need for one as you agree to do it.

“You can sleep in some of my clothes… I’m sure I have something clean around here.” He moves to look through his dresser before he pulls out a pair of shorts and a white T-shirt which he tosses over to you.

You go into his bathroom to change and when you come out he’s in a pair of sweats and a black shirt.

He sits down on the bed looking more awkward than he was previously. You realize it’s different out here than it was in the game in many ways. You sit beside him and lay down against the wall.

He says down infront of you and like last night you wrap an arm around him and he snuggles up into it.

Even though it was awkward at first you feel more at peace like this. And like you said previously, you begin to get tired and soon drift off to sleep feeling calmer than you have the past three nights.

The next morning goes by faster than you realize. You get up before Nam-gyu but don’t wake him, deciding to watch videos on your phone while he’s still asleep.

He wakes up an hour later and you finally get out of bed. The two of you talk over another packet of ramen, since it’s about all that Nam-gyu has in his apartment currently. After breakfast you walk out of the apartment and flag a taxi down, paying the guy in cash and telling him where to take you.

You exchange phone numbers with Nam-gyu and then you’re off, back to your home.

Part of you worries that it’s going to be hard to readjust to going back to work but you know that after a bit it’ll be as if nothing happened, hopefully.

You let out a sigh and stare out of the window. Atleast you have Nam-gyu’s number now, maybe you’ll get lunch with him someday, or visit club pentagon. Who knows.

[karofsky]

I'm almost positive I made a post about it recently but I will be genuinely upset if they roll back on Guillermo wanting to be a vampire 😩

[adustoflove]

Waking up at a brisk 6 am with bpd is like wow another beautiful day. I HOPE today is finally the day I die. I need to disappear. I am UNLOVED I am UNWANTED and I would be better off dead. Thank you, BPD who would I be without her

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[t4tdanvis]

so ur telling me a gay coded this guy?

[cryoweaving]

if hyv won't validate xiao's fear of causing harm with his karmic debt, i will. his karmic debt would absolutely harm caiying if she wasn't a vision holder.

[gingerbreadmonsters]

ginger, cracking an eyelid and thinking about opening requests for a little bit? its more likely than you think 👀👀

[littlepetbee]

not to sound like a judgy bitch but i literally have no idea how people go around not liking or getting pissed at/bothered by normal ass people all the time