#now that all the other souls from there have become something else

[resident-idiot-simp]

Did someone say more Hades and Persephone Deadclaws

(x)

@shy-canadian-snowflake once again props for helping

It doesn't take long for Victor to realize Logan is more trouble than he's worth. He's killing all the plants around him by merely existing and Wade is an obnoxious asshole who is better off staying in the underworld. The other gods aren't too pleased Wade is sticking around either.

Logan refuses to change from his black silks and jewelry. He has a crown he also refuses to take off. He's royalty after all.

Anyone who saw him wondered why he would be on the surface since it is obviously not his place.

Eventually Victor relents and acknowledges Logan is more trouble than he's worth. Logan is ecstatic when he is finally allowed to stay where he belongs.

It will probably be about 5 years before he's finally allowed to stay in the underworld.

But during that time Logan changes so much. He is royalty now and expects to be treated as such. Then of course when the gods meet he his a higher standing now and it pisses Victor off like nothing else

He becomes less and less like the Logan Victor knew. This new Logan expected respect and knew his place. Before he barely knew his domain and never felt like he fit it.

Now he was co-ruler of a whole realm and had become Wade's equal. He was treated by the other gods the same as Wade and they would come and ask him things. (They much prefer talking to him than Wade)

The gods start to treat Logan differently and it happens gradually and then all at once. They start realizing that he is becoming more and more important in the grand scheme of things. So they start treating him differently.

However It gets cemented when something goes wrong and Logan without missing a beat steps in and deals with it. Some massive war maybe and Logan starts dealing with the aftermath without even a thought.

Wade is beyond pleased the others respect Logan like they do. He has also loved seeing how Logan has slowly become a death god. It just proves to him that it was always meant to be.

Logan is up on the surface more than Wade is he doesn't stay in the underworld all the time. He is still connected to the surface undeniably. Wade accompanies him half the time but leaves him to his own the rest of the time.

He is fond of going to battlefields and personally collecting the souls of warriors. He also does most communication between gods for Wade while he's out and about.

But more times then not Logan can be found next to Wade in the palace. Sitting on his throne next to Wade's own or cuddling with the god on the most lavish furniture anyone has ever seen.

The other gods have opinions on it I'm sure, but this is just how it is now that they can avoid interacting with Wade as much they'll take it as a net positive.

I'm sure Victor has made his way to the underworld before and gets to see Logan in his natural habitat. He compares it to how he was before and it's night and day. He actually seems happy here and Victor hates it.

(I'm sure he was well as other gods have stopped by without warning and have seen things that can't be unseen)

Victor arrives only to see Logan on his knees in front of Wade who perched on his throne. Logan's claws are extended slightly as he grips at the men's thighs while he ruts into Wade's boot.

Or Logan layed out under Wade on a fur rug next to a fireplace burning with blue hellfire. Wade is straddling him and has Logan's hands pinned above his head. All while Wade's free hand is roaming the other man's body.

Victor is livid but powerless and the worst part is neither care they won't stop unless the visitor speaks up. After all sometimes they will leave

(x)

[maple-the-awesome]

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 36

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 2,430

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

Series Masterlist 🤎 Marvel Masterlist 🤎 Fandom Masterlist

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THAT'S F'D UP MAN

...Bucky used to have this image in his head - one of a worn-down but cozy house located somewhere far from any crowded city, at the end of an obscure dirt road that winds through country fields and hilltops.

It was one of those old white homesteads with withered color and creaking floors boards he'd promise to fix up someday, but only after the door that hangs off its hinges, letting in all the warm summer air. There would be this brown porch with a swing and hand-carved balusters - the perfect spot to sit during late evenings while watching the sun set over a freshly harvested field. The songs sung by chirping crickets and croaking toads could lull anyone asleep.

Come the holiday season, there would be a shift in peace. The entire property would transform into a winter wonderland disrupted by tiny boot prints, snow angles, and snowmen. The halls would almost always smell of some sweet treat, and the rooms would be lively with the added addition of grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins - so many cousins.

It was a vivid image for the longest time. His sisters fussing about in the kitchen, his parents and in-laws sharing stories by a fire, a handful of rambunctious children counting boxes under the tree...and a lovely wife at the center of it all.

Your entrance would be grand as you'd gracefully step down the stairs to greet guests. You'd wear this beautiful long green skirt and white blouse with a Christmas pin tacked to the front, your hair curled and pinned back after much effort that morning. The silver on your finger would catch the light perfectly as you accept your husband's hand, allowing him to guide you through those last few steps of your descent, right into his lips so that he can steal a quick kiss before anyone else can divide your attention.

...But this was only ever an image -a simple dream to keep him going during the war. Some of the other guys would fantasize about finding ‘the one’. Not Bucky. He already had a gal, and he already had a ring, too. All he needed was that worn-down but cozy house located somewhere far from any crowded city…

He'd be lying to say he hasn't still thought about it, even all these years later, however it can't exactly be called a hopeful dream anymore - not when it feels so unattainable. Now he's only reminded about all those promises he can't make, the quiet sunsets you'd never get to see together, all the holidays neither of you will celebrate. He already had the gal, but he lost her...Now he only has a ring.

It's become an annoying habit for Bucky to reach into his pocket to twirl the cold metal around his fingers. If in private, he'll even find the strength to take it into his hand and observe it closely, desperate to remember how it came to be. Did he see it in a store window once? Was it similar to something his mom or grandmother wore? What made him so sure you'd say 'yes' to this and not a more impressive diamond? …And does it even matter?

You left. You’re gone. At long last, you’ve turned your back to him, giving up just as you should've a long time ago. He should be happy. This is exactly what he wanted, isn’t it - The reason why he gave you the cold shoulder, practically ripping out your heart and stomping on it for good measure despite everything you've sacrificed to be by his side.

Without him in your life - without you constantly feeling the need to run to his side or concern yourself with his self-destructive tendencies - you'll be able to move on. You'll find an amazing partner who will treat you right and keep you safe; someone who won't put a target on your head or risk losing control of themselves and harming you.

With them, you'll be able to live a long, happy life this time around. You’ll be able to take full advantage of your miraculous reincarnation by enjoying all the wonders stolen from you in the past. They'll be there to carry you inside your dream home, to be your warm shoulder during chilly evenings, or the hand you take at the bottom of the stairs, all the while showering you with all the love you're deserving of...

"Bucky, I have loved you ever since I could remember who I used to be. Every second we've spent together - Everything I've ever done and said - It was never an act, it's always been me."

He tries to drown it out, squeezing his eyes shut with his hand clenching around the ring, yet your sorrowful voice is all he can hear.

"I've only ever wanted to see you be happy and doing well - that's my ultimate goal. While I'd like you to be that way with me - While I'd like to be happy together, if you don't -...If you don't see me as her then..."

...Damnit…What has he done?

"- Slacking on the job?"

Bucky startles all too easily, practically leaping in his own skin while stuffing the ring back into his pocket. It’s a rather suspicious reaction from someone found sitting completely isolated on the edge of a dock, however Sam’s nice enough to not draw attention to that - not immediately, at least.

"Relax. I bring refreshments," He instead takes some pride in being able to sneak up on the super soldier, smirking as he holds up two chilled bottles of beer. Passing one to Bucky, he invites himself to sit down and hang his legs over the water in a similar fashion, “‘least I could do in exchange for all your help today.”

“...Will it be enough to help your family out?” Bucky asks after a moment of silence. With ease, he flicks off the cap of his bottle before wordlessly reaching over and doing the same to Sam’s drink when the other man clearly struggles.

“This was only half the work,” Sam snorts before taking a drink, “It’ll still be an uphill battle from here, but once business takes off - which I’m optimistic it will - we’ll have a stable enough income to cover the rest of the repairs, maybe more, after all, most of what we did today is only a temporary fix…Of course, I’ll need to put in some hours of my own to help Sarah get to that point - assuming we ever get this Flag Smasher crap taken care of…

“I spoke to Joaquin,” He continues, dropping into a more serious note, “He’s been doing some digging on their movement since Latvia. Looks like they’ll be targeting the GRC conference next.”

“When’s that?”

“Two days.”

Bucky hums uncomfortably. He wants to say that doesn’t feel like enough time, but really, aren’t they already prepared? Sam has Steve’s shield. He’s been practicing with it nearly every spare second they haven’t been working on the boat - And isn’t half bad at it either. Paired with that new flight suit the Wakandans made for him, he should be able to hold his own against the Flag Smashers…Maybe it’s Bucky who isn’t prepared.

His mind doesn’t feel like it’s in the right place. Despite having put an end to John Walker’s shameful antics and making amends with the Wakandans by returning Zemo to their custody, he still feels distracted; anxious. In fact, he only half listens to Sam’s plan. The words about what Joanqin exactly said or their next course of action merely rumble against his ears as he fiddles mindlessly with his bottle and the precipitation that coats its glass. His thoughts are anywhere but on the mission.

“...Have you heard from (Y/n) at all?”

Sam suddenly jolts his bottle away from his mouth before he can even fully tilt it back. This causes a small wave of liquid to pour out which he manages to at least prevent from hitting his clothes thanks to the guard of his free hand, although he's only temporarily distracted by this inconvenience. His attention quickly sets upon Bucky through a glare, "Are you serious? You're really asking about them now after how you treated them for weeks?!"

To his surprise, Bucky doesn't attempt to argue nor does he show a single ounce of offense. Instead, he bows his head in shame while redirecting his gaze out to the sea, "I know. I'm an asshole."

"...Then why?" Sam gives an exasperated sigh and a shake of his head, "I really don't get it. You have someone who cares about you enough to literally be reborn remembering you, yet you threw them aside despite clearly loving them back - and don't give me that bullshit ‘I don’t’ excuse. Everyone can see it. I see it. Sharon saw it. Hell, even Zemo made his comments, so why? Why play this stupid game, treating them like shit which makes you both miserable as all hell when you could just be together already? When you could both just be happy?"

"It's not that simple...They could do better," There’s a brief pause where neither of them say a word, however there’s a thick judgment in the air as Sam stares daggers into the side of Bucky’s head, eventually forcing him to explain his point after a distressed sigh similar to Sam’s previous one.

"...I'm scared...I'm scared that if I let myself love them again, I'm going to end up losing them again. I'm the reason Hollie's dead. I'm the one who killed her regardless of what she or anyone else says. I’m the one who pulled that trigger.

"And - And I know the Winter Soldier is gone. I know I ended that nightmare - That it’s supposed to be over and done with, but even if that’s true, it doesn't mean that part of my past is erased! At any given moment, someone from that past could show up. They could come looking for me - Looking for revenge, and God forbid Hollie gets wrapped up in the consequences. She already has been with all this damn super soldier serum crap and look what happened! She could’ve been killed back there! One wrong move and it would’ve been her instead of Lamar.

“...I -...I can't lose her again, Sam…” Bucky’s free hand rips through his hair, gripping at strands as he lets out a stammered breath that’s barely choking back a sob, “Fuck, I can't live with that all over again. (Y/n) was the only reason I was able to the first time around. I can’t do it without either of them..."

Sam frowns, wordlessly watching his friend’s breakdown in quiet contemplation. He had a feeling that something like guilt would be Bucky’s motivation behind rejecting you. Seeing his reaction to your injury back in Latvia only seemed to confirm it, but this is much worse than he thought.

Returning his drink to his lips, he hesitates for a second before committing to a response, “...So you decided to avoid her, causing her all this heartbreak and stress in the moment to avoid the possibility - not even a guarantee, just a possibility that she could get hurt in the future if she keeps associating with you?"

"...She already wasted a life on me. I thought that if I could push her away - If I didn’t give her a choice in being together, maybe even make her hate me and leave on her own - that she'd be able to move onto better things. Find someone who could actually give her what she de -"

"- That's fucked up, man," Sam remarks harshly while finally taking that sip of his beer.

Bucky groans at the lack of sympathy he receives, however he voices no arguments for his own defense. Instead he takes full responsibility for his actions, dropping his head into his hand in defeat. Sam’s right. It is fucked up of him. He’s a complete asshole and his ‘buddy’ doesn’t stop himself from rubbing it in further:

“You know, there are guys out there who would kill just to have a girl look at them once with the amount of love and respect as they did you. You had a girl who was so whipped for your sorry ass that she chased you around through not just one, but two lifetimes, yet instead of considering yourself lucky, you decided to punish the two of you for basically no reason…And I’m gonna take a wild guess in saying you never once told them any of this, did you?”

“You know what they’re like, Sam. If I told them the truth, they’d just find all the more reason to hold on tighter and dig their feet into the ground…There’d be no convincing them to leave even if for their own good.”

Sam snorts, "Yeah, you're probably right about that. It seems that Stark stubbornness is strong enough to bleed into different lives…but you know, stubbornness like that isn’t always a bad thing. It just goes to show how much you mean to them and how much they're willing to fight for you.

“...I think you need to just be honest with them. Don’t you think you at least owe them that? I mean, in your own scrambled logic, they’ve already sacrificed a lot for you, right? Might as well pay back some of that debt by facing them like a man and saying what’s on your mind. Otherwise they’re just gonna go on thinking that they were somehow the issue while you’ll be left moping around in self pity with no resolution in sight for all this drama you created.”

Bucky huffs at Sam’s pointed blame, although he does still contemplate his advice. You probably hate him by now - No, you definitely hate him after the way he’s been treating you. Would you even care to give him the time of day to explain things? You’ve already tried that to no anvil. It’s a little too late to apologize, but like Sam said, if he doesn’t, will this feeling of guilt ever go away?

Sam sighs again, this time setting his bottle down on the dock with a 'clink' before standing up, "...Tell you what: you can stay at my sister's house with us for the night. In the morning, I'll make a big o' breakfast which you'll use as fuel to get your ass to (Y/n)'s place where you'll both talk things out like the grown adults that you are...Deal?"

Bucky rotates his grip on his bottle, glancing through the corner of his eyes at the hand Sam holds out towards him before at last taking it, "...Deal."

Next Chapter [coming soon]

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Taglist:

@arunabrak

@lovemesomevesey

[saberkane]

it's 'looking through the pyrrha dve tag and feeling sad' hours

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[areislol]

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎"WANT A (HERSHEY) KISS?" — with JJK men

pairings. satoru gojo, suguru geto, choso, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, kento nanami, ryomen sukuna, yuta okkotsu x gn! reader

warnings. all sweet mushy stuff, fluff, can be seen as an established relationship or mutual crushing. geto is written to be taller than you (sorry to all my tall ladies), sukuna calls reader "human" (his weird little pet name.), characters might be ooc.

a/n. i overheard my friend ask my best friend if she wanted a kiss and i immediately thought about this hershy kiss idea.

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎synopsis. asking the jjk men if they want a kiss, but not that kind of kiss.

wordcount. 3.4k

— satoru gojo

gojo straightens up, his posture suddenly becoming theatrically grand. he places a hand dramatically over his heart, his eyes wide with mock seriousness as he gazes deeply into yours.

“oh, you have no idea what you’ve just unleashed,” he declares, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “i’m more than ready for your kiss!”

with a flourish, he takes a step back. he raises his other hand to his forehead as if swooning, his usual confident smirk replaced by an exaggerated look of faux vulnerability.

“oh, how could i have known today would be the day? the day my heart would finally be captured by an unexpected proposal!”

he lowers himself slightly as if preparing for the grand finale of some romantic play, his eyes never leaving yours.

you quirked an eyebrow, confused by your gojo's reaction. he takes a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of resolute determination. "what—"

“i accept your kiss with all the fervour of a thousand lifetimes!” he exclaims, his voice rising to a dramatic crescendo.

before you can react, he swoops in closer, closing his eyes as if truly expecting a romantic kiss. his lips are slightly puckered, and he holds the pose for a moment, the room filled with anticipation of his over-the-top performance.

"....what are you doing..." is all you manage to say while staring at gojo like he was a madman. at your words, he lets out a faint "huh" before peeking with one eyes open. you cocked your head to the side, reaching your palm out with a... hershey's kiss?

gojo's eyes travel between your face and the chocolate treat on your palm. both his eyes open as he resumes his old posture. "what's that?" he asks, confused. where was his kiss?

you nudge him with your hand, "take it, it's the kiss." you responded. there was a pregnant pause as gojo felt his soul being crushed and crumbling away.

he pouts as he usually does when things don't go his way. "so i won't be getting the kiss?" his expression shifts to one of exaggerated disappointment.

“you won't be getting any kiss other than the chocolate kiss in the palm of my hands! if you don't want it then just say it, i'll give it to someone else.”

gojo immediately felt a stab to his heart at your words. "so... no kiss..?" he asked once more, pushing his luck a bit too much. you turned around, beginning to walk over to maki.

"wait wait wait! no— wait! i'll take the kiss, come back! i thought we had something special!!"

safe to say gojo chased you around the courtyard wanting that kiss so badly. (p.s. he never got it)

— suguru geto

he looks up from his tea, his eyebrows raising slightly in mild surprise. his calm demeanour doesn’t waver, but you can see a spark of curiosity in his eyes.

“a kiss?” he repeats, setting down his cup with a gentle clink. “well, that’s unexpected.”

his eyes scan your face, you approached him with a playful smile, unbeknownst to him, holding a small hershey’s kiss hidden in your hand.

his response is measured, his tone light yet sincere. there’s a slight tilt of his head as he considers your offer, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. his curiosity is clearly piqued.

“are you sure you want to do this right now?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

you can see the gears turning in his mind. he stands up gracefully, his tall frame now towering over you slightly. his presence is both calming and commanding, and he steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

“if you’re offering, who am i to refuse?” he says, his voice soft and gentle, yet with a hint of playfulness.

as he leans in, his eyes close slightly, and his movements are slow and deliberate. his face is inches from yours, his lips poised as if expecting a tender kiss on the cheek or lips.

his breath is warm against your skin, just as his lips are about to meet yours, you can’t hold it in any longer. you burst out laughing, the sound breaking the tension. geto’s eyes snap open, and he pulls back slightly, a look of mild confusion and surprise on his face.

“wait, suguru,” you manage to say between giggles, holding up the small, foil-wrapped hershey’s kiss. “i meant hershey’s kiss!”

geto blinks, taking in the sight of the tiny chocolate in your hand. for a moment, he’s taken aback, his calmness cracking just enough to show his genuine surprise. then, a slow smile spreads across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement.

“oh, i see,” he says, chuckling softly, the sound low and rich. “you got me there.”

his surprise melts into good-natured acceptance as he reaches out to take the hershey’s kiss from your hand, his fingers brushing yours gently.

“i should have known there was a twist,” he says, his tone filled with amusement. he unwraps the chocolate with ease, the foil crinkling softly as he reveals the sweet treat inside.

“well, i can’t say no to chocolate,” he continues, popping the hershey’s kiss into his mouth with a graceful motion. “but i might still want that other kiss later.”

you shake your head, still laughing, "you’re too much, suguru.”

he smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "that’s what makes life interesting,” he replies, his tone affectionate. “you always manage to keep me on my toes.”

geto leans in slightly, his expression turning more playful, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “but just so you know, i'm expecting a real kiss next time,” he says softly, his voice filled with a gentle warmth that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. “no more tricks.”

you nod, your smile matching his. “alright.”

— choso

choso’s dark eyes widen slightly, and he looks at you in surprise.

his usually stoic demeanour softened by your unexpected offer. choso blinked in surprise, his dark eyes widening gradually. "a kiss?" he spoke, uncertain of what he had heard. "from you?"

your playful smile widened a fraction as you nodded. "that's if you really want one," you replied.

choso's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of happiness crossing his features. he continued to sit down on the chair, his eyes, usually so guarded, were fixed on yours with anticipation.

"well since you asked," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded again, containing your joy as you held out the small chocolate treat. but choso, his attention solely on you, didn't notice your extended hand.

instead, he leaned in a fraction closer, his breath brushing against your cheek as he waited expectantly.

time seemed to slow, the air thick with anticipation. and then, as he continued to wait, you couldn't hold back any longer. with a gentle chuckle, you revealed the hershey's kiss, holding it between your fingers.

"wait, choso," you said, your voice soft. "i meant a hershey's kiss."

for a fleeting moment, confusion clouded choso's eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed your words. the disappointment that followed was palpable, a subtle shift in his demeanour as he withdrew slightly, his gaze dropping to the chocolate in your hand.

"oh," he murmured quietly, a faint flush colouring his cheeks. "i see. i misunderstood."

regret tinged your amusement now, your heart squeezing at the sight of his crestfallen expression. you held onto whatever you could to stop yourself from apologising (despite it not being your fault in the first place) but his saddened face had a deadly grip on your aching heart.

letting out a soft sigh, you decide to make up for this misunderstanding. "i'll make it up to you," you promised, offering him the hershey's kiss with a gentle smile.

he looks back at you, his eyes searching yours for lord knows what. you step closer, closing the distance between you. “here,” you say softly, holding the hershey’s kiss in one hand and reaching up to gently cup his cheek with the other. “you can have both.”

you lean in and place a tender kiss on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. as you pull back, you see the love in his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"how was the kiss?"

"amazing."

— yuji itadori

yuji sat relaxed on the couch, flipping through a magazine with casual interest before you asked him the question.

he looked up from his magazine, his expression momentarily puzzled before a flicker of curiosity crossed his face. "a kiss?" he repeated as his head cocked to the side, intrigued.

"yeah," you continued, your smile widening as you extended the small chocolate towards him. "i thought you might like one."

a hint of confusion lingered on yuji's features as he accepted the chocolate from you. "oh, thanks!" he exclaimed, unwrapping the chocolate with a grin. he popped it into his mouth, savouring the sweetness with an appreciative nod.

however, as he finished the chocolate, his gaze turned back to you with a playful look on his face. "that was good," he remarked casually, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

"but you know, i was actually hoping for a different kind of kiss."

you couldn't help but laugh softly at his playful teasing, feeling a warmth spread through you at his easygoing nature. "oh really?" you replied teasingly, pretending to consider his request. "what kind of kiss were you hoping for?"

yuji's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "hmm, how about…" he trailed off, leaning in closer with a twinkle in his eye.

before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in swiftly and gently kissed his warm cheek. his skin was soft against your lips, radiating a faint warmth.

yuji blinked in surprise, his hand instinctively touching his cheek where your lips had just been.

"like that?" you asked with a playful smirk, teasing him lightly.

yuji chuckled softly, his cheeks dusted with a faint blush. "yeah," he admitted, his voice softening. "that was nice."

the room fell into a comfortable silence, filled with a newfound ease. yuji glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"thanks for the chocolate, and the kiss," he said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. you shake your head, "it's fine, i enjoyed the kiss."

yuji immediately brightens up at your words before speaking. "can i get another kiss?" he looks at you with those pleading, puppy eyes. ugh. you let out a soft sigh and nod. "of course, on the cheek or lips?"

"lips please!"

— megumi fushiguro

he pauses. did he hear you correctly? a kiss? why now, as he's training? did you need to distract him after doing something wrong (you had a tendency to do that)? thousands of thoughts whirled around in his head.

"a... a kiss?" he repeated, his voice betraying a hint of confusion and something else—perhaps a flicker of vulnerability.

you nodded, feeling giddy for absolutely no reason. "yeah, a kiss. what do you think?"

for a moment, megumi seemed to be at a loss for words. he glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone else was watching, then looked back at you.

"why are you asking me that?" he said, his voice low and slightly nervous.

you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his reaction. "just answer the question, megumi. do you want one or not?"

his cheeks took on a faint tint of pink, a sight that made your heart skip a beat. he struggled with his thoughts for a moment before he finally nodded, his gaze steady on yours. "sure," he said quietly.

you pulled the small hershey's kiss from your pocket and held it out to him. "here," you said, waiting for him to take the treat.

megumi stared at the chocolate in your hand, his expression shifting from confusion to realization and then to mild embarrassment. he let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, shaking his head with a wry smile.

"oh, yeah. thanks," he muttered, feeling completely and utterly embarrassed by the thought that he would actually be getting a different type of kiss.

your eyes focus solely on megumi as he stares at the chocolate in your hand. he seemed disappointed but tried his best to hide it, but he knew better.

"you look disappointed. why?"

there goes your attentiveness.

"nothing's wrong. i just thought that.." he paused, taking the chocolate and unwrapping it, popping it into his mouth. your brows raised at his abrupt pause, indicating for him to go on.

you wait for him to finish the chocolate, and when he does you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. he seems to consider something for a moment, his eyes growing more contemplative.

megumi let out a soft sigh, eyes downcast as if embarrassed to say whatever he was about to say. "if..." he began slowly, "i was hoping that you would give me the other kind of kiss,"

his words took you by surprise, and you felt a warm flush creep up your cheeks. "oh?" you replied, your heart fluttering at his unexpected words (though you haven't fully comprehended it yet). after a few seconds, the realisation hit. "OHHH!! was that the type of kiss you were expecting?"

"shut up."

— kento nanami

nanami raised an eyebrow, curiosity was evident on his face. "a kiss?" he repeated. you nod your head.

"yes, a kiss. what do you say?"

he studied your face for a moment, his sharp eyes searching for any hint of a joke. but seeing your expression, he relaxed. "alright," he said with a small, gentle smile.

"i suppose i could indulge."

to your surprise, nanami stood up and closed the distance between you with a few steps. gently, he cupped your face in his warm, calloused hand. leaning in, he placed a small, chaste kiss on your forehead, his lips soft against your skin.

"there," he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "now you can give me a kiss."

your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. you fumbled for a moment, holding up the small hershey's kiss that had been concealed in your grip.

"i-i meant this kiss," you stammered, your voice flustered. "but this works too."

nanami's eyes flicked to the chocolate in your hand, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "ah, i see," he said, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "a hershey's kiss."

he took the small chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with practised ease, he popped the chocolate into his mouth, savouring the sweetness. "delicious," he remarked, his gaze never leaving yours.

you couldn't help but laugh, still feeling flustered by his actions as you shook your head. "i didn't expect you to actually kiss me like that," you admitted, a grin creeping onto your face, tugging at the corner of your lips.

nanami's smile widened slightly, a gentle warmth in his eyes. "you asked if i wanted a kiss," he said simply. "i saw no reason to decline."

— ryomen sukuna

the room was thick with tension as the king of curses lounged on his throne-like seat, his piercing red eyes flickering with a dangerous mix of boredom and disdain.

the king of curses rarely indulged in the mundane pleasantries of human interaction, yet when it comes to you, it becomes tolerable.

you approached him, chocolate clutched in your hand. "hey, sukuna," you called out, trying to keep your voice steady.

he shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded you with a mix of curiosity and contempt. "what is it, human?" he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.

taking a deep breath, you mustered your courage and offered him a tentative smile. "do you want a kiss?"

for a moment, sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable. then, a mocking scoff escaped his lips, and he leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "a kiss?"

"i don't want your disgusting lips on mine, or on my skin at all. foul. don't you ever ask me that stupid question ever again."

you let out a sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. "i didn't mean that kind of kiss," you said softly, revealing the small chocolate in your hand. "i meant a hershey's kiss."

sukuna's eyes flicked to the chocolate, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps—passed through his gaze. he snatched the chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with a sneer.

"pathetic," he muttered, popping the sweet treat into his mouth. he chewed slowly, his expression shifting from contempt to thoughtful consideration as he continued to chew.

you observed him, noticing the subtle change in his face. despite his harsh words, there was a part of him that seemed to enjoy the small gesture, though, he'd rather allow himself to be killed than admit his feelings.

after swallowing the chocolate, sukuna's eyes returned to yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. "that was tolerable," he admitted grudgingly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "is there anything else?"

you shake your head. "no... what else would you want?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

he leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours. "another type of kiss," he said, his tone both commanding and taunting. "show me if you dare."

you hesitated, the weight of his demand on your heart. his earlier insult still lingered in your mind, but there was something in his gaze—a challenge, a test—that compelled you to step forward.

sukuna's eyes gleamed with a predatory anticipation as you drew closer. when your lips brushed against his cheek, his skin was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to his cold behaviour.

the kiss was brief, a soft and tentative gesture that seemed to surprise even him. as you pulled back, you searched his face for a reaction. sukuna was silent, his expression neutral. then, a slow, almost imperceptible smile spread across his lips—a smile that was equal parts dangerous and intrigued.

"not bad," he murmured, his voice softer but no less commanding. "perhaps you're not as foolish as i thought."

sukuna's eyes darkened, his smirk widening slightly. "don't think this changes anything," he warned, his voice regaining its edge. "but i might tolerate your presence a bit longer."

— yuta okkotsu

yuta's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink almost immediately. he seemed caught off guard by your question, his book slowly slipping from his grasp as he tried to process your words.

"a-a kiss?" he stammered, his voice shaky. "you mean… like… a real kiss?"

you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his flustered reaction. "yes, a kiss," you spoke, watching as his blush deepened.

his mind seemed to be racing, a mix of confusion and excitement flashing in his eyes. "i… well… um… sure?" he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

he looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly trying to gather his composure.

you held out the small hershey's kiss, the silver foil catching the fading sunlight. "i meant this kiss," you said softly, a knowing smile on your face (yuta was always very easy to read).

yuta stared at the chocolate in your hand, his blush was still prominent but now mixed with a look of realization and slight embarrassment. "oh," he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing a bit. he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "o-oh! yeah, totally—a chocolate kiss."

you handed him the chocolate, watching as he took it from you with a shy smile. "yeah, a chocolate kiss," you confirmed, your voice gentle.

as yuta unwrapped the chocolate, he glanced up at you with a sheepish grin. "i thought you meant the other kiss," he admitted, popping the treat into his mouth.

after a while, yuta turned to you, his blush returning slightly. "do you think you can give me another kiss?"

your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt your own cheeks warming. "you mean like the physical kiss? not the chocolate" you replied softly, already knowing the answer. he nodded, feeling a little nervous. "yeah. i mean… if you feel like it. no pressure of course!!"

you smiled, laughing softly. "i'll keep that in mind," you said gently. "you're too sweet."

yuta's smile widened, his eyes shining with happiness. "you're the one that's sweet here," he replied, his voice soft and filled with warmth.

rika is fuming right now

a/n: divider credits @/v6que // my first-ish post for jjk ^-^ if there are any pronouns other than GN please tell me, either in messages or on this post! thank you for reading 💕

[brittle-doughie]

Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?

>The Beasts get corrupted

>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails

>cue them starting to die

>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take

>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going

>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around

>cue literally everything else

Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.

The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)

Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.

“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”

“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”

“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”

“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”

“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”

“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”

Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.

“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”

“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”

“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”

“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.”

“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”

Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.

“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…

“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”

“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”

“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”

“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”

———————————————————————

“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”

“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”

“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”

“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”

“I can’t��I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”

“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”

“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”

“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”

“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”

“……”

“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”

———————————————————————

“Woah….What happened to them?”

“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”

———————————————————————

“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”

“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”

“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”

“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”

Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…

“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”

“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”

“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?

“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”

“….!”

The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…

“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”

“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”

“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”

“….Hmph….”

Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….

“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”

“…..I’m sorry…..”

———————————————————————

“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”

“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”

“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”

“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”

“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”

“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.

“…..What?”

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Al Ghul Twins, Only Not Really

I have this vague idea that I might or might not turn into a fic, but it's been in my head for weeks now.

So Bad Ending with Fentons happens, after which Danny is traumatized beyond repair. Sam and Tucker find him, and for the lack of any other possible solutions, yeet him in the Zone and destroy the portal. Clockwork finds him, and Danny, desperate for a safe place, time to rest and heal, and afraid of becoming Dan, asks him for help. Clockwork obliges and tells him he will take care of everything and for Danny to sleep and not worry about anything.

"It's going to be okay," Clockwork tells him, "You will wake up, and all this will feel like a distant dream."

So Danny sleeps. The trick is, he doesn't sleep for a day or two - Clockwork, together with Frostbite and Nocturn, put him into something equivalent to medical coma. And then, Clockwork finds a dimension where no one's ever heard of Danny, Amity Park, GIW, and everything else, and he hides Danny in there.

Danny sleeps for three centuries, in depth of the mountains where no one can find or bother him. Yet, his mere presence in the world causes some ectoplasm to start accumulating around him - he is the Ghost King, after all.

He sleeps under Nanda Parbat.

When he wakes, his past life with Fentons really does feel distant and foggy. He remembers it, but it's like a childhood memory: the details have faded away, the faces have become blurry, and it doesn't hurt anymore. He doesn't forget anything, but it becomes... less important. Less meaningful.

But the first thing he feels just a few minutes after he wakes is a soul. A soul of a child, crying in pain, and its lifeless body being submerged into Danny's ectoplasm (Lazarus Pits have all come from Danny's excess ecto over the years of his sleep, so he can feel them and he can control them to an extent, albeit Ra's has really badly polluted them over the years).

Danny is a hero, that didn't change even after his very long sleep. So he tries to help, but in the process, he accidentally gets roped into the Pit, since a) it's corrupted ecto, b) he has zero ide what he's doing, c) he is the Ghost King and he might put more power in it than he intended, d) he just woke up, cut him some slack.

Talia, who put Damian's body into the Pit, is very damn surprised when two Damians emerge, and that's putting it lightly.

At least they are both very much alive.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- the aha moment

or...how they realize they're in love with you

seungcheol doesn't get that aha moment, falling in love isn't something that happens within seconds for him. it's like he's slowly drifting into love, not even realizing you've become the focal point of his entire existence. when it finally hits him, it's a quiet, simple moment. he's watching you make him breakfast in the morning, admiring you quietly from the kitchen counter. he zones out for a moment, blinking suddenly and realizing damn. that's my woman. and he knows he's ruined for life.

it's kind of silly, how jeonghan realizes he's in love with you. he's just returned home from a busy day at work, entering the house to find it empty. searching the place top to bottom, he's about to call you when - BOO - you jump out from one of the closets and scares the soul out of him. he's clutching his chest, watching as you collapse onto the ground in a fit of giggles. he can't help but laugh along, realizing through the chaos that he's found his soulmate, and he'd be damned not to admit he's in love with you.

joshua's a simple man by nature. he's easily happy in life, only needing his members, his job, his lifestyle, and of course, you. it doesn't take long into your relationship before he realizes he's in love, as the two of you take a stroll along the Han River after a long day. he's watching the setting sun reflect against your figure, taking his phone out to snap a few pictures. it's when he notices his camera roll is full of pictures of you does he think well, that's it. i'm in love.

upon meeting his family, jun notices how much work you've put into it. you're doing your best to speak his town's dialect, communicating with his parents in a language that made them most comfortable. his heart swells when he sees you amidst his childhood home, trading stories and eating with the people who raised him. it's when he notes that you look so perfect here that he realizes you just fit. he's in love.

as if everything else is with soonyoung, his aha moment is full of fireworks and pizzazz. having just finished the most record breaking performance of his life, he finds himself with one thought only: i want to go home. usually, it's because he's tired. but now, ever since you stumbled into his life, he finds himself wanting, needing, to go home so he can hold you and recite everything that happened today. he's practically thrumming with energy to rush home, and everyone around him sees what is so painfully obvious. he's so in love.

wonwoo's always credited himself to be a loner. not a lot of people can fit with his quiet personality, so when you offer the idea of "parallel play" he's a little confused. his heart warms when you explain that you don't mind doing separate things as long as you're in the same area, understanding that he needs more time to himself than others might. it's when you tell him you love him enough to compromise does he think im so in love with this girl right now.

woozi's used to writing songs dedicated to his fans and members. he sits down for another writing session, brainstorming ideas and the thought of you pops into his mind. he shrugs, thinking it might be nice to mix it up a bit, sitting down to write something about you. it's when he reads his own words back does he realize he's irrevocably screwed and so in love with you. thought about settling down, buying her a house and saying screw the music. yeah, he's in love.

having always been a realist, minghao doesn't necessary believe in true love, or love at first sight. he understands there's going to be someone out there for him, but he's skeptical that that someone is going to be perfect. all his beliefs go out the window the moment he sees you - it's like you're surrounded by a golden glow - and he realizes maybe love at first sight can be real.

seokmin loves and gives as easy as breathing. he's always been a generous guy, and it's when you sit him down and kindly remind him to leave some for himself does he stare at you and realize ok i've found the one. you've become that steadiness in his life that used to be just his members, and you love and give to him like it's as simple as breathing too.

having always been the resident cook, mingyu's eyeing your food creation like it's some kind of poison or drug. he had insisted you didn't need to cook for him, he's always been the cook and doesn't mind it, but you were stubborn and he relented. it's when the first bite blows him away does he realize he kinda misses having someone cook for him too. if you're this good at cooking i might just have to marry you, he says, ignoring how you blush, going back for another bite.

seungkwan's always been the entertainer. he doesn't mind it, he enjoys the fact it's his job to make everyone laugh. but when times get tough and he's in no mood to be the entertainer, you're right there to support him. it's when he gets home to you after a particularly rough day and you welcome him in with open arms, murmuring how he's done well and doesn't need to do more. it's when he realizes he can just be seungkwan - not seungkwan the entertainer, but just seungkwan - and he loves you for that.

vernon never really thought about finding the one. he always just assumed that they would find him. and that's exactly what happens, when you bump into each other at the movie theatre - both there alone just cause. it's when you're enthusiastically going band for band with vernon about movies that he's forced with the realization that shit. maybe i have found the one.

chan's always known he was in love with you. he doesn't like to admit it cause he thinks it makes him sound sappy, but he truly never questioned his love for you. it was a simple thing in his mind - this person makes me so fucking happy - i must be in love. and how could it not be simple for him? he's staring at you quipping about some joke to his friends and he's thinking i love you. he's watching you just wake up from a nap and he's thinking i love you. he sees a text from you on his phone mid-dance practice. i love you. he's always been in love with you because he loves everything to do with you.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Twisted Girls

:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ Perv Ellie x Femdom! Reader

Content: Sexual content, masturbation, face-sitting (r! receiving), thigh-riding (e! receiving), perverted horndog Ellie, best friend trope, light blackmail, spit-play, dom reader, switch Ellie who is really just a sub for reader, sub/dom roles, rough sex, choking, use of degrading names like "whore", reader has a cooter cat

Word Count: 3.2k

Photo creds to ellsgirll! for more gorgeous photos click here Divider creds here

Description: You’ve been Ellie’s “sweet” best friend for years now, and she thinks that you don’t understand the depths of her horniness. Especially when it comes to you. Ellie thought way too much about what she’d do with you if she had the courage to expose her obsession, but when you discover her darkest secret, the tables turn. Ellie’s in over her head.

Ellie was face down in her bed, face buried into her pillows. Her hand was down her pants as always, and she was aggressively humping her hand like a fucking dog. This wasn't the worst of it, either. Clutched between her grimey finger-tips was a pair of your silky panties. Yes, that's right. She had a pair of your most expensive Victoria's Secret set down in her pants, rubbing the fabric against her clit perfectly. She pretended the dampness that spread from her pussy to the fabric of your underwear was yours as well, but it just wasn't the same. Still, the thrill was exciting.

After the came, she did what was honorary routine. She let out an exhausted sigh as she tucked your panties away under her bed in a little box with a few others she stole, including a few polaroids you obliviously gave her, not realizing it'd become masturbation material.

In all truth, post-nut clarity hit her hard. She'd always feel horrible for taking advantage of your kind nature, even if it was in secret. She hated how much she wanted you, how she couldn't keep her hormones at bay like some horny teenage boy. Her feelings for you were deeper than any of that, too. She truly loved you. But she'd rather take out her feelings in the way she knew how. She was far from a sex addict either; she didn't do what she did often. But she did fall asleep with a picture of you under her pillow once. Only one time.

And of course, tomorrow was a sleep-over day for the two of you. Ellie both dreaded and fantasized about what it'd be like to have you sleep in her bed. She wondered if you'd snore, if you talked in your sleep, or perhaps you were silent and peaceful. Even though she'd been your friend for years now, she hardly let you over. You never understood why; she was fine with coming over to your house. She just seemed to hate you being in her personal space. But for Ellie, she had the most justifiable reasons for pushing you away.

Ellie's room was always a mess, and in the center of it all would be something she simply didn't want you to see, like the vibrator on her desk or the uneven Cannibal Holocaust poster on her wall. She was a true horror fan while you were an adamant hater. You thought gore, even if fake, was just disgusting.

You were entirely different from Ellie in all ways possible. While she was seemingly awkward and quiet, you were like a golden retriever, always talking someone's head off. Ellie saw you as innocent, too. It was kind of a fantasy for her. She loved the idea of being your first, ruining you for anyone else. She wanted to make you only hers, to make you cum for the first time so you'd see it as some godly experience and be attached to her for the rest of your life. She partially assumed you saw sex as something that caused soul-ties or some shit like that. In all honesty, she would've gotten attached to you if she had the chance to fuck you.

However, Ellie's perception was extremely biased. As much as you were oblivious to her perverse behavior, she was oblivious to yours. No, you weren't some innocent girl who was too prissy to even think about sex, let alone masturbate. You were a secret control freak. Ellie fantasized about you being her sweet girl, about ruining something she didn't know was already ruined. Something that she didn't know existed within you. The idea of you being her slut was so appealing to her, while the idea of her being at your every whim was appealing to you.

She couldn't have predicted how truly different you'd be from the fantasy she had stuffed up into that murky head of hers.

You loved Ellie so dearly. She was truly one of your best friends for years now. She was always there for you when you needed her. All of those pathetic boys who broke your heart in highschool somehow found themselves with a broken nose. Ellie was like a dark savior for you, so it was natural to love her in a more complex way than a simple friendship runs. After that simple statement, not much more was natural.

You loved her, and that was obvious. But you also wanted to ruin her. No, you needed to. You didn't feel an ounce of guilt like Ellie did when it came to these twisted thoughts. There was nothing stable about the way you'd picture her in ropes while you bounced on her strap or had your tongue deep between her folds. You didn't want to just give her pleasure, you wanted to send her tumbling into a limbo between heaven and hell where she'd both hate you and need you so badly, where every time your tongue would refuse to apply any sort of stimulation to her clit, she'd feel that dizzy feeling of desperation. She'd hate you if you ever got your hands on her.

These feelings were reasoned with Ellie's behavior. While you were sweet and caring to her like a goddess to her mortals, Ellie wasn't exactly the picturesque best friend and you weren't as oblivious as you'd pretend to be. It was almost insulting that Ellie thought you were so clueless to where your underwear was running off to, as if an expensive Victoria's Secret set grew a pair of legs and left your laundry hamper. No, you absolutely knew. And you were much better at secretly fantasizing about Ellie than Ellie was about you. She wanted to fuck you, but she was much too desperate. You might’ve wanted her, but there was no pathetic horniness to your mindset. It was all so controlled. And that's the whole point, control.

Handcuffs, ropes, and belts. Physical restraint is one thing, but total mind control is another. And you had just the plan to take what you wanted from her.

—

Ellie scrambled to clean up her room. She wasn't the most organized person, and she didn't really think she needed to be. It wasn't like she had many friends to come visit her. She was fine with doing her own thing, playing Call of Duty at late hours of the night even with the strain the bright PC light put on her eyes, writing shameful journal entries, sketching photos of her obsessions(space, dinosaurs, the new editions of Starlight Savage, and most importantly, you), and obviously touching herself with extremely lesbian thoughts.

After she had mostly cleaned up the tornado in her bedroom, now she had to text you and tell you she was ready for you to come over. It wasn't long before you were knocking at her door, and that was when the inevitable sequence of events would begin.

Ellie was never much of a control freak. She thought she was, she thought that she loved the idea of just fucking some girl and making her cum. She thought that meant she was dominant in some sense, or that she was even right to assume she'd be the one in control if she were to ever actually sleep with you. That's just not how things work, though. Someone so reckless, so careless, so sensitive and unorganized can't possess a human being. Ellie was in over her head by thinking she could've kept her secret for very long.

The knock on the door jolted her out of whatever daydream she was having, and Ellie scurried to opened the door.

There you were, in all your glory. Beautiful, wide eyes that had a sprinkle of shine in them Ellie was addicted to. You smiled wide and let yourself in.

"So, I was thinking we could play Mario Kart. Unless you have other plans." You immediately requested that specific activity because you hated most video games when usually that was all Ellie did. Mario Kart was always middle grounds for the both of you.

"Oh, fuck yeah. But don't start crying when I beat your ass," She said with a laugh and lead you into her bedroom.

Ellie's room wasn't huge, and her décor consisted mostly of video games and comics you hadn't even heard of. You only recognized Starlight Savage because of the hours Ellie would spend ranting to you about Dr. Daniela Star. She had a few dinosaur plushies on her bed and a record player in the corner of her room that complimented her vinyl shelf nicely. Her PC setup was impressive, which didn't surprise you. All you could think about, however, was where your precious Victoria's Secret sets were located. For now, you would have to focus on dominating her in Mario Kart.

Ellie won about 10 times. You beat her once and it was because she ran over a banana at the last second. Of course, Ellie was being as smug as usual.

"Told you I'd beat your ass. Don't whine now." She sneered in a voice that made you want to put her in her place.

You remained calm. "Whatever. So..what do we do now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but I gotta use the bathroom. Wait on my bed, okay?" Ellie shut the door behind her, leaving you alone in her room. This was your chance.

You quickly went through her drawers first, and found nothing but her own boxers. Not that you were complaining, but those weren't exactly yours.

You got lucky. You bent down to search under the bed and your hands felt around until you felt something. it was a red cardboard box that you'd never seen in her room before. Unlike Ellie, you didn't feel extremely guilty about going through her private stuff.

Your hands made quick work of the lid and at the same time, the bathroom door swung open. Ellie opened the door, her eyes widening and her face a tomato red at the sight of you sat on the floor with her stash of your undergarments in your hands. You felt a little guilty now, but this would put your plan in motion, and you wanted Ellie too much to brush it all aside. Even if you didn't truly care.

"What the fuck, Ellie?! Are these my panties? What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?" You exclaimed, and you sounded truly offended.

Ellie's heart dropped down into her stomach. She'd never seen you so angry. You were always so sweet with her and she never felt deserving of it. Now, at least she felt like this is how things were really meant to be.

"Oh, my gosh...I am so sorry, I swear to you I never meant to-"

You cut her off quickly, standing up and throwing the panties onto the ground. "What? I could ruin your life for this, Ellie. You would probably deserve it to. I could tell everyone about this, and they would hate you. You'd be labeled as a pervert for the rest of your life."

Suddenly, Ellie was panicking. She'd never expected you to find the stash. She felt all the guilt bubble up in the form of nausea. Her hands were trembling now and she was fidgeting with the tips of her fingers trying to calm herself. Now, she was truly groveling. "Please don't tell anyone! I'll do anything, I swear to you. I will do anything. I understand if you hate me, but please..just don't tell anyone. You can leave if you want, I.." She trailed off, feeling hopeless. She felt that nothing could change what she did.

The next words that left your mouth made Ellie's jaw drop onto the floor.

"Let me sit on your face." You stated, as if it were a casual request everyone had made to their friends before.

Ellie was extremely confused by the way this was going now. She struggled to find the words to explain how she was feeling, and the ache that was beginning to gnaw at her lower stomach was inconvenient but unsurprising. All she could manage was a weak "What...?"

"You heard me. You’re gonna make me cum, or I'll post all about this to everyone. Your life will be ruined. You better get started, don't you think?"

Ellie was hesitant. She couldn't tell if this was some joke or not, and then you spoke up again. "If you're not going to do it, I can just leave and go tell-"

"No!", Ellie shouted quickly. Her voice was shakier than normal, and her face still flushed. She couldn't believe this was how she'd get to have you, with you being in control of the whole situation. Still, she didn't want to complain. "I-I'll let you, I promise..” 

-

The first taste Ellie got of you made her almost cum in her fucking jeans. Your juices tasted like something completely foreign to her, like lust and pure arousal. She gave your cunt experimental kitten licks, and you responded by putting more weight onto the girl, practically smothering her face with your cunt. God, even when she was struggling with the lack of experience she had pleasuring girls, her eagerness made up for it. You had to place your hands flat on her chest to keep from falling over with the pleasure she was giving you every time she’d whine against your pussy, vibrations making your clit practically numb with pleasure. 

You began to guide yourself on her face, slowly rocking against her mouth. “Fuck, Els..c’mon, just like that.” You praised, and Ellie put in even more effort into the task, tongue swirling around your sensitive bud and making you go dizzy with power. The way she was whimpering at your taste as if she was the one getting fucked, her own hips bucking up in the air for some friction she couldn’t get. The sight was truly giving you an ego. 

You felt the heat in your stomach from every flick of her tongue against your clit and the fire only grew into unprecedented flames as your hips shifted your cunt down into her mouth, using her like some sex toy.

Ellie didn’t even think of sex like this, like being controlled completely by someone. But the more you grasped at her chest, snaking your hands down her shirt to greedily palm her tits, the more she just wanted to please you. All she could focus on was making you cum, even though her own cunt was throbbing with neglection.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl..you’re gonna make me cum, Ellie.” Your voice was trailing off and breathless, and soon you hit your climax, orgasm hitting you like a freight train. 

Your legs trembling from above, thighs squeezing at her head and making her dizzy with the warmth of your cellulite. You were frantically grinding, pulling at her tits as if it would give you another orgasm. You cried out, and Ellie spent the next few seconds licking up your cum as if it was the gods nectar. 

When you finally came down, you rolled over breathlessly and buried your face into the sheets. Ellie was just as messy as you were, your wetness coating her chin, and her breathing coming out in soft pants. However, she still felt extremely needy.

“P-Please, can you make me feel good to..?” She asked, voice small and her words coming out in a stammer.

You paused for a moment at that. You could’ve probably done so much to her. You wanted to fuck her silly and use her all night. However, you still wanted to make a point about the stash. You had to keep up with the whole “offended by Ellie stealing your underwear” bit. So you rolled over to sit up and shrugged.

“You can hump my thigh.” You stated shamelessly.

Ellie blushed at this, and she felt pathetic for how fast and moved to straddle your leg. Fuck, it felt so good to grind her cunt against your leg-

You grabbed her hips and stopped Ellie’s beginning movements, making her whine in protest.

“Nuh-uh, not like that. Take off your clothes.” You demanded.

Ellie was naked without much thought to it. She was too desperate to fuck herself on your thigh that she didn’t care about dignity.

Her hips ground down against your soft thigh, and you’d occasionally bounce it up, making her let out little yelps. She was aware of the wet patch her arousal was leaving on your bare skin, but she was too caught up in the pleasure to care. However, when you leaned down to spit on your thigh, causing even more easy friction, she practically folded. It felt way too good to slide her cunt against your own saliva, and it messed with her head even though she was used to perverse thoughts.

“P-Please, you feel so good..” She gargled out, her voice shaky and needy.

You scoffed. “Please, what? What are you even begging for? You’re so greedy.”

Ellie’s face turned another hue of red at this, and she let out a whorish whimper, her hips picking up speed. “Be rough with me..it’d make me feel good.” She asked.

You’d fantasized about this countless times.

You didn’t hesitate to wrap a hand around her throat, and you began shifting your thigh beneath her, making her soaking pussy feel overwhelmed with the sudden attention.

“Is this what you wanted, whore? You wanted me to be rough with you?” You spoke, and your tone was so unfamiliar from the sweet, soft angelic voice she was so used to you using.

Ellie struggled to answer, and your hand tightened around her throat. She was practically humping your leg like a dog, and you could tell she was getting close. You delivered a small smack to her hip, making her moan in response.

“Answer me, baby. Is this what you wanted? To be fucked on my thigh?” You loosened your grip on her throat so she could speak.

“Y-Yes!! Fuck, I’m gonna cum..”

You didn’t hesitate to tighten your embrace on her soft throat once again, partially cutting off her airflow. You leaned forward to speak into her ear. “Better make a mess on my thigh, baby.”

Ellie didn’t need any further encouragement. With the feeling of the loss of oxygen and your ironically sweet words, she finally found her orgasm. Her body shook with the effort to release, and your thigh was coated in stickiness as she continued to ride out the high.

Your hand left her throat and your arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. You left kisses in her hair as she shifted to sit over your lap, her body warm and limp in your embrace.

You sighed and pulled her face up to give her a soft kiss, your lips massaging hers with a newfound affection. When you pulled away, she buried her face into your shoulder. You smiled and ran your fingers through her hair, loving on her as if she was some fawn that couldn’t walk. To be fair, she probably would fall over if she tried.

“Better not steal my panties again, Els."

[catsaurofmagiccomedy]

I runned out of tags,, i will compile all of this and reblog it as text, i guess

Please put your logic in the tags I’m genuinely interested in this cause I’ve seen a few good takes already, even if I think something different.

Please remember that avatar and victim are two different things and while there are certainly overlaps in some instances mostly an avatar is a manifestation of a power that gains energy from feeding off of victims of the power that they belong to. They can still suffer from a power, but they aren’t it’s main prey, more of a mouth piece. Or living snare.

[usedpidemo]

Instant crush (Ive Wonyoung)

This world is really something else.

Eight billion people on this planet alone. Billions of planets among the cosmos. And even more stars to count.

It’s truly amazing knowing that you still haven’t found the one. At this point, you might as well shoot for the stars. Perhaps the one you’re searching for might be up there, looking down with the same longing as you have.

—————

Even down on earth, you’re still in good company. 

Another clear night in the open fields, ripe for stargazing. Everyone’s brought their food, their sleeping tents, and their telescope, but most importantly: each other. It’s become your primary bonding experience over the last several months.

These days, however, you prefer gazing up at the stars by yourself. It feels more comforting to be alone. No one really looks for you or shows concern when you suddenly disappear from camp, nor do they wonder where you’ve gone when you come back. You could have been killed and there would have been no trace, no search.

If anything, you’re more surprised you still keep getting invited.

Nevertheless, the night sky looks especially lovely tonight, with the countless stars shining at their brightest. While your friends prefer searching for the constellations, you’d rather admire them through your human eyes.

Every now and then, you hear your friends from afar, celebrating as the occasional shooting star passes by. It only emphasizes the loneliness you feel on a larger, painful scale.

On nights like these, you make a wish. You’re not the superstitious kind, but the faith and desperation makes you want to believe. Doesn’t matter if not a soul hears you, your innermost desire rings loud enough to be felt. The tears in your eyes show.

As the night goes further along, you’re about to make your way back to camp. Even from several feet afar, you can see them start winding down, the lights from their campervans flickering off. Everyone else begins to pack their belongings and settle in, when suddenly, another meteor flies past, its glow brighter than any other. You can hear the commotion, their voices loud and ecstatic, claiming they’ve never caught a star this close until now. 

Hell, you can see its physical properties with your own two eyes.

As the star descends at blisteringly high speed, you’re hit with the realization that it is, in fact, going to crash nearby. Sure enough, it passes through your line of sight with a blinding gleam before landing several miles away from where you were standing minutes ago. Immediately, a trail of smoke ascends to the sky, its exact location clear as day.

Given the circumstances, it’s your opportunity to finally be seen. To be the first. To be recognized as something more.

While everyone else in camp scrambles for their gear, you make a quick beeline for the crashed meteorite, having given yourself a significant head start. Based on how thin the smoke it left behind, you’d imagine it to be nothing special: just a regular space rock. As you approach the site, and see the shallow crater it made comparable to the average garden excavation, your assumptions would be confirmed.

However, a thick veil of white fumes surrounds the crater’s entire circumference, rendering any attempt to see the meteorite inside impossible. Common sense dictates that one should never touch anything foreign, especially if said object is of extraterrestrial origin. For a while, you contemplate the idea. After all; you may be dumb, but not that reckless.

Seeing as the smoke has no intention to dissipate, you may as well brave the storm. Worst case scenario, you disintegrate into ashes or die from poisoning, but you’ve got nothing to lose at this point. Still, the hesitation remains, as you constantly draw your hand and finger back the closer you get to touching the barrier.

There’s a still, small voice calling out to you, likely your subconscious, daring you to pass through the veil. Your heart wants you to take the leap, your mind tells you to stay back. It’s a surprisingly complicated conundrum. 

In the end, the heart wants what it wants. It wants to venture through the unknown. It wants definitive answers. It wants you to take that leap of faith.

Slowly but surely, you slip your finger through the thick white veil. Your skin doesn’t disintegrate nor does it burn. If anything, you feel nothing at all. There’s no smell or sensation as your hand completely disappears beyond the barrier, then to your elbow, until your entire arm is consumed by the fog. Your body moves of its own accord, seemingly getting sucked into an entirely new world beyond the smoke. 

As soon as you’re completely taken to the other side, the fog vanishes instantly. Your feet suddenly stop, realizing you’re no longer feeling solid ground. As the earth beneath you crumbles, it turns out you were one step away from falling in embarrassing fashion.

More importantly, there’s no meteorite at the bottom. It’s already cracked into pieces of dust. 

So you look up again. On the opposite end of the crater, an unexpected sight takes you off-guard. There’s a woman standing there, completely in the nude.

You can’t help but call to her. “Hey!”

With her back turned against you, looking left and right, your cry falls on seemingly deaf ears.

So you try again. Same result. Completely ignored.

You’ve got no choice but to run around and approach her, albeit cautiously. Even in the middle of nowhere, the danger persists.

The woman’s eyes turn toward you as you reach her. Nudity aside, her appearance is glaringly pretty. An unnatural beauty that you’ve never seen before. Long black hair, pouty lips, and a pristine face worth dying for. She’s really heaven-sent.

However, instead of showing concern or worry, her expressions show that of indifference and apathy. A little curiosity, even. As if she doesn’t know what she’s doing or where she is.

“Excuse me.” You’re trying not to stare at anywhere else but her beautiful face, and even that gets your heart racing. “I’m sorry, but you’re standing out naked in the middle of the cold,” you tell her, slowly falling into temptation. Eventually getting the better of you, you give yourself a tiny glance of her boobs, hoping she doesn’t catch on, and thankfully, she stares idly, “You might need some warmth.”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she merely blinks and watches you intently. 

“Um,” you swallow, unsure of what to say or do, like anyone else in this situation. “Do you know where you are, miss?”

The woman continues to stare at you, occasionally blinking, before finally answering, “Planet 120121, codename Earth.”

Her monotone delivery and the peculiar string of words that came from her mouth take you aback. She continues before you’re even able to say anything, saying, “You are a resident species of planet Earth. Homo sapien. Codename Human.”

And she goes on by listing your complete biology, down to the smallest details. Your personal information, your biometrics, your history. Somehow, her voice saying your name sends shivers down your spine.

The revelation dawns on you, hits you like a truck. “You’re not human.”

Suddenly, before you can ask another question, you hear the shouts of your friends, having finally reached your location. They’re also calling for you, though not as lovely sounding as the alien right in front of you. You turn around and see as they emerge from the disappearing smoke. But as you quickly face her again, she has suddenly disappeared without any trace.

“There you are,” says one of them, the self-professed leader, before you can even react. “Thank God you were okay. We didn’t realize you left on your own, and lo and behold, you’re the first one in our group to discover a meteorite. Who would have thought?”

“There’s nothing here,” interjects another friend, surveying the crater with his camera and scanner, noting the lack of physical evidence. “That’s strange. Usually there should be a meteorite, but it’s just nothing but rubble.”

Unsurprisingly, they’re quick to jump to conclusions. Most of them. The leader narrows his eyes, though his voice remains pleasant and friendly, albeit incredibly shaky. “Look. I know it feels good to feel important, but how about you let us have a little peek? Promise, we’ll make sure you get the credit.”

None of them would ever in the slightest believe what you had seen even if you told the truth. If anything, it’ll be an excuse for them to finally ostracize you. Now you’re caught up in a rather inescapable situation with no clear outs.

“Um.” Your gaze avoids the four sets of eyes intently glaring, threatening to force information out of you with every step forward. You can’t do anything to save your life, including throwing a punch. You reason with them, “Look, I know this might seem hard to believe—”

“What? You broke the meteorite?” The leader interrupts, the three others right behind him, now visibly enraged. Besides the fun and fellowship, there’s plenty at stake. There’s money to be made. Fame and glory. It’ll be memorialized in museums and books. A lasting legacy broken with one simple mistake. “You just wasted us thousands, if not millions with your blatant stupidity—”

“Don’t. He’s correct; he doesn’t have a single trace of foreign material on him,” The guy with the scanner says, stepping ahead to protect you. At least someone in the party has a little common sense. “He’s correct; the meteor must have destroyed itself upon impact.”

You can tell by the leader’s disapproving stare that he doesn’t buy it. At all. Still, for his own reputation’s sake, and to avoid impulsively murdering someone in front of several eyewitnesses, he relents. As he walks away from the scene, you can see his lips moving, silently cursing you. 

“Right. Let’s get back to camp and rest up,” he gathers the party and takes his departure, leaving you on your own to catch up. 

Of course you don’t follow back. You spend some time looking around the crash site, searching for the mysterious extraterrestrial, but to no avail, having completely disappeared without a trace. It’s a reminder of not dabbling with strange elements you have little to no experience with. 

Still, the alien’s strange presence stirs in your mind. Something about it felt human. It certainly possessed a body and spoke like your fellow man, even though its speech could have been ripped from any computer. Maybe it was indeed an alien; you’ve never seen a face like that, so captivating, so dreamlike, yet so familiar. It really makes you think. 

Slap yourself a hundred times. It was a hundred percent real and not a hallucination or an illusion.

—————

A day later, you come home to your apartment. Life goes on. Turn on the TV, the noontime news is playing. You figure you’ll fall asleep on the couch after a little while. The night before, you didn’t have sound sleep, still reminiscing about your odd encounter and what it might have meant. 

Suddenly, the sound of running water catches your attention. You never stepped foot inside your bathroom, at least not yet, nor were you willing to. No one else lives in this apartment as far as you know, and you’re no believer in ghosts. 

So you grab an unplugged lamp from the living room and sneak around, quiet as a mouse. The bathroom door is slightly open as you approach closely, the sound of water growing louder. Someone is using your shower. Instead of rushing in, you wait on the corner, readying to strike at the earliest opportunity.

Your heart races wildly. Your breaths are muffled, deep, and heavy. The water stops, and you can only hear yourself. 

For a few tense, lengthy minutes, nothing happens. The intruder has no intention of stepping out, even though there are no vents or openings where they can escape from. It’s an enclosed space. You can easily wait a bit longer, but your impatience gets the best of you.

So you haphazardly charge in, guns blazing, screaming at the interloper. “Get out of here.”

You don’t recognize who you’re screaming at, nor do you careYour vision straightens out, and you’re taken completely by surprise at your uninvited guest.

It’s them. Or in this case, her. 

The woman doesn’t respond. In fact, she doesn’t react at all. No expression shift, no rebuttal, no displeasure, nothing. One of your bath towels is draped around her figure, and her body is soaking wet. God, she still has that alluringly gorgeous face, made even better now that’s in living color. You’re already regretting shouting in her face, even if it was in self-defense.

In your shock, you drop the lamp on the floor. 

“I—I’m sorry.” You’re struggling to put the words in your mouth. There’s so much running through your mind right now, countless questions. But the most important thing right now is focusing on her. Something about this woman is inviting you closer. The last thing you want to do is push her away. “I—I didn’t realize—”

“Do not apologize.” The woman’s lips try to form some semblance of a grin, and fails. It’s as endearing as everything else you know about her, and so is her robotic speech. “As a matter of fact, I should be the one to apologize for using your water to cleanse myself. I can see why your species enjoys bathing in water. It truly feels refreshing.”

Your eyebrows narrow and your lips twist into a frown. “You don’t shower?”

“Our culture showers, just not in water. You wouldn’t understand.”

And you’re not going to try. 

She steps aside, walking past you and out of the bathroom. “Excuse me.”

You allow her. 

Following her back to the living room, you watch as the mysterious woman lets your bath towel fall freely to the floor. Before you get an extended peek of her bare body, she waves her dainty hands all over herself, manifesting a white dress set out of nothing around her slender figure, perfectly fitting to a tee. 

In case you needed additional confirmation she isn’t human.

“How did you get here—”

“I understand that you have a lot of questions,” she interrupts, brushing a strand of hair aside, facing you with a proper, lovely smile. “And I wish to answer them, so as to not bring you any more stress. But I cannot. For your sake.”

“What do you mean—”

She lifts a finger, hushing you. “All your questions will be answered in due time. For now—” walking toward you, she puts her hands over your arms, “I would like to know you and this place some more.”

You don’t know what to say. This woman’s leaving you flustered and speechless. No one’s ever tried to get this close toward you, not a damn soul. Even a being beyond comprehension, it still feels real. You get a sense that she’s coming from a place of genuine curiosity.

“I—I don’t even know who—or what you are,” you tell her, tone low, overwhelmed. 

“You can call me anything you desire,” she says, appealing herself to you with her pretty eyes. “Please let me stay with you.”

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing. There was never any opportunity to resist. “Of course. Please stay as long as you like.”

—————

The woman notices a photo in your bedroom. It’s not a family member or any close friend, but someone everyone recognizes. She’s everywhere you look: on billboards, in magazines, in commercials. You can’t really escape her, no matter how far you go.

She also happens to resemble the alien you’ve been talking to.

“Jang Wonyoung,” the woman mutters to herself, intently scanning the photo of the person she’s the mirror image of. That's your primary reason for attraction. Even as an extraterrestrial, her appearance is the embodiment of Wonyoung. From the face, to the voice, down to the subtleties. “Jang Wonyoung sounds like a cute name.”

“You’re not her,” you bluntly tell her, despite her appearance bearing the exact image of the idol. “You may look like her, you may sound like her, but you’re not Wonyoung.”

Even though, deep in your heart, you’re gonna start calling her just that.

“How long have you been together?” she asks, taking the photo into her hand, presenting a core memory. The idol Wonyoung poses with you as you take a selfie, fresh after one of their concerts. 

“Oh—I wish. She’s an idol, I’m just a fan. She can’t date—at least publicly,” you tell her, amused by her lack of familiarity with earthly culture. 

“An idol? So she’s a god presiding over this planet?”

“I mean—to some people, yes, but she doesn’t have powers or anything. She’s also like me. A human. A really gorgeous human, but just that.”

“I see.” Wonyoung takes another minute to look at the photo, intrigued. “Why is she given the title idol, then? Idols are usually reserved for gods.”

“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you’re scratching your head, figuring out how you can simplify yourself without having to chat up an hour-long video essay’s worth. “But she’s mainly a singer, okay? She sings and dances for a crowd of devoted fans, and everyone loves her for doing that.” 

“Sings and dances? Shouldn’t these so-called ‘fanatics’ be performing for her instead?” 

You scrunch your nose and shrug, barely hiding your chuckle at her sincere naivety. She’s half-right in a way. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Wonyoung follows you back to the living room, unsatisfied by how quickly the conversation ended. She shoots a cute pout that goes completely ignored. You call to her, asking if she wants anything to eat, but falls on deaf ears. Noticing the TV, she sets her eyes on the screen, her attention completely enraptured by all the fast moving action. 

As expected, she doesn’t watch TV like any normal human. She stands directly in front of the screen, resting her hand on top of the panel. You can only assume this is her absorbing information. Strange, but nothing you haven’t seen in other sci-fi media. 

And then, she begins to float a couple of feet off the ground. Her irises dilate before completely disappearing. Soon enough, objects in your apartment join her in the air moments later, including some of your appliances.

At first, it doesn’t seem remotely close to anything scary, only drawing your curiosity. But as she continues to absorb knowledge from the TV, a strange glow surrounds her body, her eyes glowing bright white. The lights in your apartment flicker on and off, the screen’s imagery changes to static, and all these other little tremors threaten to blow the place open. Nearly every appliance in your flat is going haywire from this sudden surge in power.

You have no choice but to step in before someone gets hurt.

“Wonyoung,” you’re calling to her, telling her to stop, trying desperately to snap her out this haze. She’s too numb to feel anything but the TV. Her body is surrounded with so much white light, it’s beginning to fill the entire room. An explosion is imminent.

You’ve got nothing left except to approach her, no matter how dangerous it may be. 

So with one last desperate cry, you shout out Wonyoung’s name, reaching her with your hand from behind. All of a sudden, a blinding flash fills your eyes, leaving you temporarily blind—and rendering you unconscious.

But it works. The light gradually disappears. She falls to the ground, overwhelmed by all this excess energy. 

Unfortunately, it comes at your apartment’s expense. To add insult to injury, the fire alarm in your apartment building activates, turning on the emergency water sprinklers. She’s left your entire flat a complete mess.

When you open your eyes, it’s raining everywhere; electronics everywhere falling apart, sparks occasionally shooting from the outlets and from tattered wires. Wonyoung’s lain unconscious in front of the TV, smoke coming out of the thin, shattered panel. Look around and see the aftermath; destroyed pieces of furniture, newly created holes in your walls, a clean break of your window, your life savings completely down the drain.

Still, none of those are your utmost concerns right now. You shake Wonyoung’s inert body, searching for any sign of life. Thankfully, she leans her head sideways moments later, staggered and confused.

“What—what happened?” she can barely open her eyes, let alone move her lips.

“Christ. Wonyoung, we gotta get outta here,” you tell her, lifting her off the ground, wrapping her arms around you. “You blew up my apartment and if anyone finds out, we’ll get in so much trouble.”

She ends up passing out again as you drag her outside your apartment and out of the building.

—————

Mercifully, it appears to be an isolated incident. No one besides you or Wonyoung were injured in some capacity. Still, you’ve come to the grim realization that never step foot inside your apartment ever again.

Emergency services rush into the building, while the police seal off the entrance for the other residents—at least temporarily. You’ve hidden Wonyoung’s motionless body behind a pair of sunglasses, hiding her behind some bushes at the nearest park, keeping yourself distant from her to avoid any suspicion. Your friends, devoted astronomers and stargazers, aren’t ready to accept the existence of alien life, much less the authorities and the public. Especially since her appearance is deeply tied to someone well-known, a star in and of herself.

Everyone knows the fire is coming from your apartment. The smoke from your window reaches up to the sky. So of course, when it’s time for questioning, all fingers are pointed toward you.

You tell them the exact same thing: a power surge, an electricity overload. Faulty cables and appliances. Whether it’s the police, the fire department, the medics, or the media. Anything to keep her existence hidden from the world. Sure enough, everyone buys it. Freak accidents occur all the time. It’s one of those days. Shit happens.

The only one who doesn’t look happy or at least concerned is your landlord, obviously. You’ve destroyed his property after all.

“I was gonna tell you to get out, but it looks like you’ve done that yourself,” he tells you, tone condescending, showing no empathy towards your situation. You can tell he’s wanted you gone for a while, but wasn’t legally able to.

“I was planning to move out anyway,” is your rebuttal, equally as snarky. Rubbing your arm, still wincing in pain from earlier. A lot has happened and there’s plenty more to do, but your first priority is Wonyoung. It’s been almost an hour since you’ve left her in the park.

So you run back to the spot where you’ve hidden her, only to find that she has completely disappeared. Panic sets in. Your search leads you to other parts of the city. Hours pass, with your efforts coming up empty. The sun is beginning to set, with you having quite the conundrum: she’s not only gone, but you have no shelter.

As fate would have it, you find Wonyoung in a different park on the other side of the city. She’s watching a group of skaters from afar, still wearing your sunglasses. 

You call out her name, and she turns to you, her expression stone cold. She raises a hand though, presumably waving without actually motioning.

“Hey. I’m—I’m sorry for what happened back there,” you tell her, taking a seat beside her as she turns her attention back to the skaters. “Look. I know you’re upset that I left you back there, but you gotta understand that you can’t just do that. You were wrecking up my place. Well—you did wreck it, actually.”

“So is that what the smoke was about? I did that?” Wonyoung asks with zero awareness or alarm, as if she really didn’t know what she had done.

You gently nod, frowning. As much as you don’t want to, she has to know the truth. “Yes. You were scanning the TV, and you got into this weird state where you were floating. Other objects were starting to move too, the electronics were surging with power, and—” you swallow, your lips trembling, “you hurt me.”

Wonyoung’s mouth slowly drops at your confession in utter disbelief. She takes a moment to collect herself. Based on the frown on her lips, you get the sense that she’s feeling guilty, even if it wasn’t her intent. Even behind sunglasses, a tear falls from one of her eyes.

“I—I’m sorry.” She reaches her hand out to you, a familiar glow surrounds her, this time fainter than what you saw earlier. As she touches your arm, the gleam passes from her skin to yours. It’s a soft, warm, comforting touch. More than that, it’s a healing brush; your scars, scrapes, and wounds gradually seal themselves clean, curing any and all forms of physical pain. Then it stops. “I hope I can make it up to you.”

“What are you then? What planet do you come from?” you ask, finally removing the bandage that you’ve plastered between you. 

“I cannot tell you that,” she says, blunt and to the point. “Our intentions cannot be made known by species other than our own.”

“You destroyed my apartment. You owe me an explanation,” you tell her, frustrated by her response.

Wonyoung gives herself a moment to think in silence. As the city lights turn on, she looks up. High in the sky, a shooting star flies by, similar to the one that led you to her.

“They’re coming,” she says to you, her gaze lingering on that falling star. Another one trails not too far behind. “Perhaps they’ve already arrived.”

“Who are? There’s more of you?”

She nods, confirming your answer. 

“We’re a conquering intergalactic species,” she tells you, still looking up to the heavens above. By the weight of her voice, this is something serious. “We search for hospitable worlds we can inhabit and rule by slowly assimilating into their culture before destroying the host planet and reforming it as our own.”

“So you’re like a race of body snatchers,” you comment, staring at her side profile, unable to tell yourself you’re speaking to a hostile alien, even if it’s apparent by her outlandish diction. In your eyes, she’s still Wonyoung. You quip, “I can see why you would choose Wonyoung.”

“Yes. Upon further research, I can come to the conclusion that this Jang Wonyoung is an exemplary sample of the human race,” she tells you, smiling cutely. “It’s such a shame that humans like her must be destroyed along with everything else on this planet.”

“But why? Why destroy Earth?”

“It’s a planet that will ultimately destroy itself,” says Wonyoung, putting her head down, looking at the ground beneath. “And from what I see, the only way it can be saved is by wiping the dominant species from existence. Humans.”

“There are still good people. At times we go to war, at times we can be selfish—but we still come together in times of need. At the end of the day, we still need each other to survive.”

“Your friends—they seem to not trust you at all,” she says, referring to your fellow stargazers. “Why do you still call them your friends?”

It’s a question even you yourself are struggling to figure out. Maybe it’s all about the fellowship and camaraderie, but you’ve never once felt welcome or important. No one ever bothers to keep a lengthy conversation with you. You’re often forgotten and overlooked to the point where your presence is nigh-invisible. To them, you’re mostly just an extra body, sometimes a liability, as seen during the meteorite incident. And yet, you still ride along whenever they come calling.

“To be honest, I don’t really know,” you tell her, lowering your head while sighing wistfully. “It’s been really lonely these days, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Then why did you trust me, knowing now that I am your enemy?” she asks, staring at you intently.

“You’re not an enemy to me, Wonyoung.” You face her, tilting your head away from the ground, under the delusion that some part of her is indeed human. “I don’t care if you’re an alien or if you want to kill me. What’s important is that I protect you right now, even if that means dying or whatever.”

Everything boils down to a simple question: “Why?”

At first, you don’t really have a definitive answer. But looking at the splitting image of her, your favorite idol, you know exactly why. You smile.

“Because I like you, Wonyoung. I can’t help but think it’s you, no matter how much I try to deny it.”

“I am not your so-called ‘Wonyoung.’ You are beyond irrational.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” you tell her, looking up at the stars. “I believe you’re here for a reason.”

“And what reason may that be?”

The question goes ignored, and for good reason: you don’t exactly know. However, as you grow more acquainted with Wonyoung, perhaps you’ll figure it out. Something tells you it’s divine intervention, an answer to your heart's innermost desires. 

“Humans like you genuinely puzzle me,” she remarks, still watching you closely, like you’ve got something to hide. Secrets upon secrets.

“I feel the same way about us,” you quip back, quietly chuckling at her comment, because it’s true. Seeing how dark it is outside, you get up. “It’s getting late though, we should probably find somewhere to stay for the night.”

“I can take care of myself.” She says it exactly the way the real Wonyoung would—with a dash of sass and a charming attitude. Her body morphs into a clear formless liquid, showing you she can disappear and reappear anywhere at any time before transforming back into the girl of your dreams.

“I know, I know,” you tell her, reaching out your hand, undeterred. “But don’t you wanna see what Earth is really like before you destroy it for good?”

She blinks twice, contemplating the idea. “You’re right.”

—————

Wonyoung’s attention is scattered all over the place. Bright lights, big city, Wherever she turns, something new happens. Crowds going in and out of buildings, families bonding, everything else in between. There’s a childlike wonder in her eyes, in awe of our species and culture, seeing everyone from all walks of life grouped together. 

She sees herself everywhere—on billboards, on the TVs for sale, on little posters. She sees the real one performing on screen, and recognizes why you and many others hold her in such high regard. In the same way she’s captivated you, it’s dazzling her too.

Maybe Earth isn’t as horrible as initially thought.

“Yeah,” you tell her, slowly tracing back your steps as you’ve realized she’s vanished again—a lot more than you care to count. Smiling from ear to ear as you look at the TV, then at Wonyoung, as if to say ‘I told you so.’

Wonyoung grins back. She waves her hands around like a wand, magically turning her little dress into an all-white jumpsuit, looking like a million bucks, as she should. 

“Just had to rub it in, huh,” you remark, ogling her new appearance from head to toe.

She chuckles, placing her hand on your shoulder in the most attention-seeking way possible. She’s a natural at looking and acting hot, which doesn’t surprise you—it’s Wonyoung, after all. Seeing herself on screen has given her a template to follow.

“I bet you’re a little hungry now,” she remarks, whispering against your ear, her voice skin melting. Again, effortlessly seductive.

A million thoughts instantly come to mind, most of which are best left unsaid. But then you hear your stomach grumble, by far the most embarrassing to admit defeat. Of course she hears it, makes it a big deal by laughing heartily. 

“Unfortunately so.”

“What is the best place to eat around here?” she asks, as if you’ve got a whole reserve of money lying around—which you don’t.

“You serious? I can barely find a place to stay, let alone something good to eat,” you admit, coming to terms with the fact you may be in serious trouble. Having vacated your apartment because of her, you’ve left most of your belongings behind, leaving with nothing but your phone, wallet, and the clothes on your back, which are in slightly poor shape.

“I see.” She presses her hand tightly on your shoulder, using her powers to transfigure your clothing into something matching hers. A fine, expensive two-piece suit. Still, it’s not changing your current predicament.

“I appreciate the thought, but let’s not get carried away,” you comment, holding your coat and examining yourself. “I mean, we’re still in public and it kinda beats the point of hiding you.”

“No one cares,” she replies back, glancing at the surroundings to back her statement. She’s right; everyone’s got places to go, people to hang out with, that you’re both merely passersby. However, you also notice a heightened increase in police activity. Cops everywhere in the wake of today’s incident, still fresh in your minds. It’s a crowded night with a lot happening. You can get away with almost anything—time to see just how much that means.

“All right. If that’s the case, then I sure wouldn’t mind having a lot of money right now,” you tell her, pulling out your near-empty wallet to see if she can make bread from stones.

Wonyoung shakes her head, more baffled by your actions than anything else. “What are you doing?”

“You said you could do anything and no one would bat an eye,” you say, hiding your rather selfish intentions from her. 

“Oh, absolutely. But I cannot make something out of nothing. Unless you want me to turn your wallet into cash, in which case I can only convert it into the highest value of whatever currency—”

“Okay I get it,” you interrupt, unwilling to listen to all the needless semantics. So you look around and immediately find an alternative—an ATM. Taking her across the street, you lead her to the machine and point your hand towards it. “I suppose you could do something with this then?”

“You do recognize that this is a form of theft and is therefore punishable by law?”

“I thought you said no one cares,” is your reply, slightly raising your voice in frustration. “What the fu—”

“I was merely joking.” Wonyoung shakes her head, smirking at your now dismayed expression, much to her delight. “Hand me your wallet.”

After you do so, she slips your card into the slot and this is where the magic happens. Holding out her hand against the tiny screen asking for the PIN, a faint pinkish glow emanates from her hand before waning out. She correctly enters your number without having to ask, then withdraws the highest amount of cash allowed from the machine.

You squint your eyes looking at the screen, examining the amount of money left in your account as she places the cash into your wallet. Millions, where there wasn’t any. Wonyoung is truly a miracle worker, her powers vast and beyond measure. The possibilities are endless.

“Would you like me to withdraw some more?” she kindly asks, as if you’re a beggar asking for money. You can only stare at her, utterly shell shocked and in disbelief.

Trying to play it cool to futile results, you end up submitting in the littlest voice possible. “I guess we could withdraw enough just for tonight—who am I kidding, do it four more times.”

—————

“Good evening, sir. Ma’am.” The host of this five-star restaurant greets you with a customary gentle bow. It’s a place Wonyoung picked after going through the options on your phone. She already knows this city better  than you do, and you’ve lived here for over a year. “Do you have a reservation?”

Even though you’ve warned her numerous times about the dangers of going out and about in public, she doesn’t listen, insisting you trust her instead. Seeing what she’s done with her powers so far, you’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. All this time, she’s never taken off the sunglasses you’ve given her.

You give Wonyoung a trusting nod. Let her do all the work. She gently presses a finger on her cheek, and out comes that familiar glow of energy bursting from her. The host blinks a few times before seemingly leading you inside without any further questioning. “This way.”

Finding a table for two, you scan your nearby surroundings; the chatter inside the restaurant going radio silent, leaving only the music. Her powers have affected everyone within her vicinity, turning them into mindless zombies. Everyone—except you. 

With your safety guaranteed, Wonyoung finally removes her sunglasses. The way she looks at you with her own two eyes gives you butterflies in your stomach. You have to remind yourself she’s only a mirror, a phantom and not the real Wonyoung. And yet you can’t; you’d like to imagine this is how she would treat you in real life, superpowers or not. Only God knows how you really feel about her. She makes you feel special in a way that’s incomprehensible. It’s hard to act normal in her presence.

With her, you feel like you can do anything.

“Our order’s not gonna be ready for some time,” Wonyoung comments, her eyes skating around the place, ensuring no one escapes her mind control. Her strange dialect and behavior is the clear giveaway, no matter how much you spin it, even if she has incorporated some of your culture into her vocabulary. “So let’s pretend that you’re dating me. How would you satisfy me?”

“Satisfy?” Even though you understood the context right away, your mind is already going there. To places where it shouldn’t be.

“Yes. As in, how would you make a good first impression on me? Or her?” 

Truthfully, you have no idea where to start. For one, Wonyoung’s a celebrity with a status only surpassed by a certain few in her profession. Secondly, you’re working the nine-to-five like most people in this country. There’s no buying your way into her heart, that’s never gonna happen. If anything, she could own you. She has an air of prestige surrounding her, one that makes her nigh untouchable and above everyone else. Sharing a moment, no matter how brief, is a privilege, a miracle in its own right; how much more that you’re out with her in public? It would draw so much attention that you could never live a normal life. Every little thing, every little action, every little mistake would be a damning attack on your character. Something you’re all too familiar with.

So even in a make-believe scenario, you just know you’d lose no matter what. Her question brings you back down to earth.

“What’s up? Was it something I said?” Wonyoung notices the sudden dour expression on your face. 

You can’t even muster the strength to face her. Looking down at the table is the only thing you can do.

“Reach out your hand,” she asks, hoping to get to the bottom of your predicament. It falls on deaf ears, worrying her. 

So she does it herself, grabbing you by the hand, diving headfirst into the recesses of your mind. Her body trembles, levitates above the ground as she runs through your memories, through years of images and moments, both the good and bad.

The emotion is too much to handle. She snaps her eyes wide open, tears falling from her eyes. It’s happening again: a powerful burst of energy ripples through the area, sending everyone and everything flying back. Anyone under her mental spell is taken back to reality, with seemingly no recollection of their actions during her control.

Immediately realizing what she’s done, she tries to fix everything by herself, ignoring that you were pushed back by her blast too.

“Wonyoung? What did you do?” you ask, before looking around and seeing the complete clusterfuck. Your concern turns to panic. “Not again.”

She’s too focused on correcting her mistakes to hear you. She immediately uses her powers to brainwash everyone again, placing a finger on her temple, resembling that of a familiar professor. Under her command, every person in the building autonomously works on cleaning her mess, though some damages, like the cracked walls and the broken lights, are far beyond fixing. 

But the strain of using her abilities excessively catches up with her, causing her to snap violently before quickly collapsing to the ground. Soon after, everyone is freed from her mind control again.

“Oh God—not again, not again.”

While everyone in the restaurant tries to collect themselves and figure out what’s happened to them, you drag Wonyoung outside and conceal her behind the darkness of an alleyway, fanning her with a rolled up magazine to keep her conscious. Thankfully, she’s groaning audibly in pain, which means she isn’t as hurt as you initially thought.

Tilting her head to the side, unable to open her eyes, she weakly murmurs, “It happened again?”

“It happened again. We’re not doing this anymore. Let’s just find a hotel and call it a night.”

—————

You weren’t taking any risks this time. You’ve booked yourselves the cheapest, nearest hotel you can afford, even with all the money at your disposal. It’s not like you’ll stay here for days. After all, you’ve called in a favor: a friend to borrow their car, intending to drive as far away from civilization as possible. 

Wonyoung has kept herself quiet and distant ever since. You can hear her mumbling something, but you’re unsure exactly what. She stares distantly at the wall, deep in thought.

“Get plenty of rest. We’ll be traveling quite a lot in the coming days. It won’t be comfortable, I tell you now,” you say, offering her a glass of water to recuperate.

Snapping from her haze with your voice, she turns to her side, seeing your kind gesture toward her. She’s unable to bring herself to look directly into your eyes, frightened about the possibility of hurting you again. She tries to reach out her hand, almost takes the cup from your grasp, but ultimately gives in to her doubt and pulls back, unable to accept your offer.

So you place the drink by her bedside and leave her alone with her thoughts.

After having quite the eventful day, the couch is looking like the most comfortable place to be in right now, even more than the bed. All of it is barely sinking in; you’re still under the impression that you’re in a rather elaborate dream that you’re more than ready to wake up from. Everything feels too good to be true.

Right as you’re about to fall unconscious on the sofa, you hear Wonyoung calling your name from the bedroom. You try to sleep it away, but she calls out again. So despite your exhaustion, you decide to check in on her.

She’s still sitting on the bed’s edge, her water partially consumed. You genuinely feel sorry for her. She can’t bring herself to look at you, but she does mutter a little ‘thanks’ in appreciation for your kind gesture.

Sitting beside her, your hand intertwines with hers. Warm, calming, comforting. 

“It’s getting late,” you murmur, glancing at the clock set next to the bed, 10 minutes past 11 in the evening. Your ride will arrive early in the morning. What happens after, you don’t know. “Go to sleep, Wonyoung. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“I don’t require sleep,” she tells you back, reinforcing her status as an alien.

“Well that doesn’t matter to me. You still need some sleep, for your peace of mind—and mine,” you reply.

Wonyoung leans her gaze in your direction, cautious, yet highly fascinated. Even after going through the depths of your mind, there’s still plenty that’s beyond her comprehension. Her observations have reinforced her opinion of you: that you’re truly one of a kind. An anomaly.

“You are quite the lonely soul, and yet you choose to be kind towards those that are cruel towards you,” she comments, softly breathing against your cheek. 

“I wouldn’t say cruel,” you quip, meeting her in the middle. “That sounds a bit excessive.”

“Your memories—they only bring me anger and sorrow,” Wonyoung replies, narrowing her eyebrows thinking about them. “I cannot believe people would choose to hurt others without sound reasoning.”

“That’s just how it is in this world, sadly,” you tell her, blunt and to the point. “But regardless, Mom taught me that a little kindness goes a long way.”

“So, about this Wonyoung: what is it about her? Why are you so attracted to her?” she asks, and you’re staring into her eyes, pretending she’s asking this question herself directly to you.

You pause, contemplate your answers for a moment, before finally responding, “Aside from being the prettiest girl in the world, she just—seems like the ideal girl to me. I mean—she’s really beautiful, she can sing, she can dance, she can write lyrics, and she’s got this natural attitude about her that makes her the perfect celebrity. ”

“Your reasoning sounds—very superficial. Surely there’s something that resonates deeper than merely being a celebrity crush.”

You roll your eyes, feeling a little called out, and admittedly a bit ashamed, even if you’re staring down a phantom of Wonyoung. You’re taken aback by how real every word sounds from her glossy lips. It’s a wake-up call, a vicious but much-needed reality check.

“And as I go through your mind, you have nothing but shallow thoughts and sexual fantasies about Wonyoung,” she continues, using your hand as an outlet to dig through your brain and dissect you. “Perhaps that is why you have taken a liking to me as well. I just so happen to inhabit the form of your greatest desire: this woman.”

She’s caught you red-handed, and well, there’s no getting around it: you want Wonyoung more than anything, even if it’s an impossibility.

“Have I ever told you that your eyes can only see whatever they wish to see?” She’s leaning closer toward you, a bit too dangerous for comfort. “No other being in the universe can gaze at our true form other than ourselves.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but yeah—you do look quite a lot like her,” is your reply, like you’ve just uncovered a world changing revelation.

“Still, I can’t help but wonder: you like this Wonyoung for more than just her looks, but you can’t tell me exactly why,” she says, greatly fascinated by the intrigue.

“I have no idea either. Dead serious. If I knew, I would have told you by now.”

Wonyoung stands in front of you, still holding your hands. Closing her eyes, her powers manifest again, transforming her white jumpsuit into a little black dress, without any skirt, her slender legs in clear view. Smiling sweetly, she offers you an invitation, “What do you say you come and find out with me?”

It’s an offer you’d be hard-pressed to refuse. Forget that she’s an alien. Forget everything that sci-fi media has taught you about fucking extraterrestrial life. If you’re gonna go down, you might as well go down on a high.

—————

You both should be sleeping by now. Instead, you’re making a bit of a mess in your hotel room. Nothing a little magic can fix.

Wonyoung makes sure your gaze stays on her at all times. Any second thoughts disappear the moment she takes you by the hand, and makes you meet at her level. She’s mostly slender legs and arms, of raven-colored hair; it’s easy to imagine what’s beneath her sole layer of skimpy clothing.

“I thought you said I liked her more for something other than sex?” you ask, as if that’s gonna change what’s about to happen.

“Let’s just say I’m trying to appeal to your—hmm—” Wonyoung dips her head, plants her hands on her knees, crouching before you, the word having escaped the tip of her tongue, before she recollects herself. “Humanity.”

With a flick of her fingers, she unbuttons your shirt bottom to top, but you hold the middle button as her magic climbs halfway through your clothing. “No powers,” you tell her, shaking your head. “It’s not as good without doing it yourself.”

She blinks. For a moment, you thought you might have offended her. To your surprise, she gracefully straightens herself out. Without complaint, she takes hold of your fingers, parting them to physically undo the remaining buttons of your shirt.

Taking a moment to feel your bare chest behind your shirt, Wonyoung closes her eyes. She’s wearing a light yet aroused expression on her face—and she’s only touching you. You’re barely scratching the surface of how dirty you can get.

“Oh, that feels really good,” she coos, breathing heavily, her cheeks flustered and flushed bright red. 

You caress her cheek, snap her from this haze. “You haven’t finished undressing me yet.”

In that moment, her eyes pop wide open, embarrassed in feeling herself so soon. “I’m sorry. This is all brand new to me. Our species don’t breed. We’re asexual—”

“Shush.” You place a finger between her lips. “We don’t talk a lot during sex.”

She mouths directly into your finger as if it were a microphone, speaking with a dash of urgency. “Then please show me. Guide me through this.”

“Of course.” 

Planting both your palms on her cheeks, you finally muster up the strength to do something you never thought you’d ever do: kiss Wonyoung straight on the lips. It’s as romantic as you’ve imagined in your wildest fantasies. While you put all your passion into it, she remains frozen in place, unsure of how to react or what to do next.

You take notice, drawing back. “Do you feel it?”

“Feel what?” Wonyoung blinks again, her movements robotic.

“You’re supposed to reciprocate your partner’s feelings,” you tell her, placing your hands on her shoulders. “When I kiss you, give yourself a moment to let it simmer.”

She’s slowly nodding her head, listening intently to every word you say. 

“Now are you ready?” You’re staring into her eyes, twinkling in the dark. You notice her head strengthening, determined to get it right this time.

“Yes. Please kiss me.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. You grab her by the nape, slip your tongue between her lips this time. More than simply teaching her, you’re living out your innermost desires through Wonyoung. There’s so much electricity, you’re kissing her like your life depends on it. The sensation consumes you: tasting her sweet lips, pull her as close as you possibly can.

As you peek through one eye, you catch Wonyoung relishing in the moment too. Mirroring your hand, she’s gently tugging you close to her, your bodies dangerously close to intertwining. Her kiss feels incredibly warm, irresistible to the touch. Humming between your lips, you sense her fingers clutching deep into your scalp, wrestling for control over you.

A few more seconds interlocked and you would have pushed her hard against the wall.

Tumbling out of the kiss, you’re gasping for air, taken by surprise at how good Wonyoung is. It shouldn’t be; her lips are naturally designed to be smooched, to be felt.

“So what now?” Wonyoung leans back against the wall, still looking innocent and angelic.

You answer through action: coat, pants, shoes, and boxers quickly come flying off your body as you quickly undress before her. She takes a moment to stare you down intently, especially making your erection a point of emphasis. It should feel awkward, but it isn’t; if anything, you feel comfortable baring yourself like this.

Wonyoung pulls down one of the straps of her body-hugging dress, followed by the other. Gravity does the rest. Letting it fall down her slender legs, she’s reduced to—nothing. Only bare, naked flesh.

You can’t help but mutter out your thoughts to the wind. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Likewise, you take a moment to drink in the sight of Wonyoung’s naked presence. You could honestly let her stand there and do nothing, and she would still end you every time. The thought greatly arouses you, your hand instinctively grabs your cock, begins slowly stroking right in front of her.

God, you really feel shameless right now. Your vision blurs, her presence far too divine to comprehend.

“What are you doing?” she curiously asks, puzzled—and a little amused—by your strange action. Her demure expression only serves to stir you further.

“Ah. Shit. I can’t help it,” you mutter, vacantly keeping your gaze at Wonyoung, mockingly shaking your wrists, playing coy to the fact she’s seemingly naive to your deepest intentions. Leading her back to the bed, you command her, “Get on your knees.”

She’s certainly pliant, down to do anything you say without a complaint. You take as many mental pictures of the scene: the prettiest idol on Earth, kneeling lowly before you, your cock inches away from her face. An unforgettable sight.

“You see this?” Pointing at your hard cock, aiming in the direction of her pretty lips. “I want you to put your lips between them.”

The instruction sounds ridiculous to her ears. “You want me to—kiss your penis?”

You nod your head, reaffirming your stance. “Yeah. Also, just call it cock for me, please.”

Wonyoung takes a moment, hesitant to follow through. You can wait as long as she wants, cupping her cheek and tilting her face up to meet yours. “Tell me if it’s too much. I won’t hurt you. Promise.”

Your little reassurance gives her the strength she needs. 

The tip of her tongue peeks out, carefully approaching the bottom side of your shaft, shaking the closer it gets. The initial point of contact makes her flinch, pushes her away, jerks you violently onto the mattress. You barely manage to hold yourself together. If this is only a tease, you can imagine how the real thing would be like.

Then she tries again, swallowing up what fear she has left—and everything clicks.

The moment her lips part, making way for your tip, you almost lose control. It takes every last bit of your resolve not to unload right then and there. The sweet sensation of her lips feels even better on your cock than against your mouth. You’ve never felt this much ecstasy till now. 

Slowly but surely, as her mouth fills itself with cock, her cheeks hollowing out, poking through her throat, she immerses herself in the feeling of taking you deep. Her nose is poking against your shaft; her bottom lip kissing the underside of your length. Little pleasing sucking noises escape her lips. 

It’s powerful enough to make you question your knees’ ability to stay upright. A fistful of her hair is your only lifeline here.

Even in this unorthodox manner, Wonyoung seems to have a natural way to overwhelm your senses. But like always, she manages to straighten herself out, and gets to properly using your cock. All she needs is a single touch for her to understand everything.

Soon, she’s all over the place. Releasing you from her mouth at random intervals, stroking you with her deft, slinky fingers while twisting and licking every inch of your cock, before popping them back inside with the lewdest expressions imaginable. All this insane suction builds a violent, twisting knot in your stomach. It gets to a point where your groans of pleasure muffle her gentle hums of satisfaction. 

You want her to stop, to keep her from ending you so soon. But the bliss is far greater and worth the early tradeoff. She appears so committed to the act, that interrupting her would be utterly disrespectful. Especially when your cock is so deep inside her throat, that unloading inside that mouth would be its deserved reward.

So you cling on. Cherishing the little glimpses of Wonyoung sucking you dry, relishing in what little you catch for as long as you can, because you know you’re on borrowed time. 

“Fuck—so fucking—good—fucking—amazing—shit—” you sputter, watching her bob up and down your shaft, shooting you a stare back, seeking for approval, which you’d happily give—if you weren’t drowning in bodily pleasure. It’s unbelievable how natural she moves, as if she never needed help to begin with.

As your vision narrows, the only thing left that remains are blurs, flashes, vague images and sloppy sounds. Of brown eyes. Of dark hair. Of plump, swollen lips. Any moment now, she’s gonna get it. The friction builds, and builds, and builds, until—

“Wait.”

It’s the loudest thing heard in the room. 

Wonyoung releases her velvety grip, but not without delivering one more parting shot: a slide of her tongue down to your base. You feel your whole world spiraling beyond comprehension.

At least you can save what little authority you have left.

Then you look at her, her face smeared in shades of you, and you’re already regretting not going all the way.

Too late for that, too late for everything. Your mind goes blank, unable to form a coherent train of thought, much less say a word.

Silence fills the room, with Wonyoung continuing to stare wide daggers at your soul, waiting in anticipation. Her breath barely a tickle against your skin, but still dangerously hot, sending chills all over your spine.

More importantly, she clears the fog in your head.

So you scoop Wonyoung off the floor, her slender legs wrapping themselves around you, then fall back onto the bed. Leaning back on the headboard, guiding her on top of your lap, making her straddle your waist, letting her above you. Her lips close the gap between you, sinking into you with a deep, passionate kiss.

The rest of the night could only be kisses and tender cuddles, and you would feel satisfied.

But as you spread your thighs wide, the pressure between you thickening, she leans to your ear, and gives you a simple request: “Let me feel every inch of you.”

In that voice—in that low, hushed, lethal tone—it’s a miracle you don’t come undone on the spot.

Bracing herself on your shoulders and chest, Wonyoung stares directly into your eyes as she sinks onto your lap. Taking her sweet time, leaving you on edge for a few tense minutes. 

You never see it coming, no matter how heightened your senses are. Her eyes go shut; her mouth hangs, slowly goes slack, releasing a deep, prolonged moan. “Fuck.”

Slowly pressing into your clutch, ensuring every inch of your cock fills her cunt. She makes you throb uncontrollably as she bottoms out, muttering these quiet sighs and little gasps. 

Reduced to nothing but ragged breaths, Wonyoung moves incredibly slow, like you’re both at a standstill. Carefully feeling every inch, every single pulse, every twitch of your cock resting deep in her pussy. You take lease of her back, then her tiny waist, running your hands over her skin, fitting so comfortably in your clasp, admiring her immaculate form. 

Not once has your gaze ever left Wonyoung’s pretty face. You take note of all the fine details; every scrunch, every nerve, every shift on her lips, the flush running all over her features, and she conveys herself so easily. Though tense, you can tell she’s acclimating well, relishing the sensation of your cock deep inside her.

Your fingers burrow deep into her waist, inducing some pressure to make her move faster. And she does. Gets into a slow, steady rhythm, gently bouncing on your lap, giving you a glimpse of your cock disappearing and reentering her cunt. Little squats that ripple through your skin, making music of your flesh slapping hers. Spilling slick that spreads over your thighs. She’s so tight, and so positively dripping.

“Oh God—oh shit—” you mutter, resting your head on her lithe chest, admiring the view right beneath her head. You’ve almost forgotten she’s an alien with how well she fucking rides you. 

“Should I stop?” Wonyoung asks, slowing her hips to a near crawl.

“No no. Keep going.” You look up at her, kissing on her neck, your bodies entangled in a passionate embrace. The bed begins to rock as she picks up the pace in return, crashing against your cock in violent waves that push your willpower to its absolute limit. “You feel so fucking incredible, Wonyoung. So fucking good—”

Even as you’re drowning in rapturous ecstasy, you get a sense that her face is loosening into a smile at your comment. You’re leaving marks on her neck and her collarbones—marks that will never truly disappear, even if she washes them away. 

Her body, on the other hand, is going erratic. Rough. You lean back, content to watch helplessly as she rides herself to oblivion. Her fingers dig into your belly, forming small punctures in your skin. Fucking the words out of her mouth freely, throwing caution to the wind: “Fuck—fuck me—I love it—”

You can’t take it anymore.

Still, you try to endure, to stave off the knot in the pit of your stomach, desperate to savor what little time you have left. At the rate you’re going, Wonyoung’s going to incapacitate you a new one. Brain full of static, it’s only a matter of when, not if. Gears turning everywhere in your body, vision blurring out again, a familiar sight—

And it ends abruptly, just like that.

Balls deep in her cunt, your loud groan bounces around the four walls of this tiny bedroom, with Wonyoung sinking herself down to your hilt. Her chest heaving, your breaths heavy, it’s all too much. The hefty load of cum you blast inside her is alarming. Spilling onto the sheets, onto your thighs, keeping you bound together to the soul. 

After quite the experience, Wonyoung’s all rosy cheeks and sweet smiles. As if she didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life. 

She carefully shifts herself off your lap. Thick streaks of your cum keep your bodies together, until they gradually break apart. Staring at the ceiling is the only way you’ll make sense of this, and even after, you don’t know whether you’ll regret it or not.

“I don’t sleep,” she says, and that’s all you needed to hear. 

You cup her cheek, kiss her, and climb over her as you start making out into the dead of night. 

—————

“We have to go.”

Wonyoung’s voice stirs you awake from deep slumber. Hours have gone by and the last thing you remember is kissing her on the couch between your last orgasm. Opening your eyes, you’re greeted by the bright silhouette of her slim figure draped in a white bathrobe leaning forward in front of the window, peeking through the curtains. 

Gathering your bearings, you join her in scouting the situation. It’s dire. Half a dozen black vehicles parked outside the hotel with sunglasses-wearing agents asking everyone about seemingly suspicious activities, backed by men in hazmat suits wielding some kind of extraterrestrial radar technology similar to the one your friends were using. 

Then you turn to one of the clocks, and realize you’re already 30 minutes late to the meeting point.

You face Wonyoung with a look of great concern and unease. “Shit.”

There’s no time to waste; your friend has already sent a few texts saying he’s already at the rendezvous as recently as 20 minutes ago. Going down to the lobby through the main points would be the stupidest decision you’ll ever make, and you’ve had your fair share of blunders. The last thing you’d ever want to happen is for Wonyoung to use her powers and blow your already failing cover, so that option is off the table too. The only way you’ll both make it out in one piece is through one of the fire exits and marked escape points.

“I don’t think your powers are gonna get us out of here,” you tell her, hastily packing what little belongings you have. “And I think it’s for the best that you don’t use them.”

“How come? Just give me a chance. I promise I won’t mess everything up.”

“How do you think they know we’re here?” you question her, unconvinced with the idea that she can somehow control her powers overnight. “It’s because they’re aware of your presence. Two random incidents of a similar nature happening overnight?”

“They were both accidents, okay? I’ve got it under control. Trust me.”

You still don’t buy it, insisting she keep her powers in check, at least for now.  “Fine. But only when I tell you to. And only when I tell you to. Got it?”

Wonyoung nods, delighted that she’s gotten through you—even a little.

Taking the girl with you, you slip into the nearest fire exit of your hotel room’s floor, scurrying down the stairs as fast as you can. 

By the time you reach the ground floor, you learn from Wonyoung that the exits are a labyrinth in and of themselves. You can be found anywhere at any given time. Your safety comes at a difficult choice: to rely on blind luck, or to give her the green light to use her powers. 

Turning to Wonyoung, you can see her pleading with her eyes. To let her do her thing. The risk is far too great given the circumstances. And God knows if they’ve got an elaborate plan to isolate her and capture her, making your escape efforts all for naught. Nevertheless, you have to act quickly.

Backed into a corner, you give her a little nod, the signal she needs to shine.

And Wonyoung truly shines. As in, she tells you to cover your eyes before emitting a powerful flash of energy bright enough to cover a several mile radius. Even through your hands, the light proves to be blinding. Even as the dazzling gleam gradually fades out, you find it difficult to see, let alone walk straight. 

Then you feel a sharp tug of your hand, your feet dragging along by its pull, before you realize what’s going on and you just start running. No other thoughts, only run, run like your life really depends on it. Eventually, your eyes meet daylight, and your sense of sight is properly restored. 

She did it. Wonyoung got you both out of there completely unscathed. And she doesn’t collapse, doesn’t faint like she usually does after exerting herself. A miracle.

“What did you do?” you ask her, to which she replies with a gummy smile: 

“Kept all their electronics and radars down for a while. Give or take, I’d say we have 30 minutes to an hour. They didn’t know what hit them, and they never will.”

That’s more than enough time for you to make your way to the rendezvous point on foot a few blocks away. 

She turns herself into her liquid form, disappearing right before your eyes, but not without giving a request that you’re more than willing to do. “Lead the way.”

—————

You find your friend waiting by the restaurant’s entrance, bored out of his mind with all the waiting. He immediately spots you and rises from his seat, visibly frustrated. The poor guy went out of his way to travel from the countryside at your behest. “Man where the fuck were you? I’ve been here for almost an hour.”

“Sorry,” you tell him, pausing to catch your breath after all the running, your legs sore and aching. You’re still human, after all. “Got held up on the way. You know how it is.”

“Never changed after all this time, eh,” he quips, shaking his head, a little cross. “I should have expected this.”

“Fuck off, dude,” is all you can say, patting him by the shoulder. “I’m just glad you came on short order.”

“So you’re all alone? I thought you said you had someone with you.”

Looking around, Wonyoung is nowhere to be found. You weren’t all that worried; if there’s anyone who could look after themselves, it’s most certainly her, but the slight possibility of her capture still creeps in your mind. 

Then you see her emerge from behind the corner of the store, waving at both of you. She’s hiding her face behind your sunglasses, her favorite accessory. “Hey boys.”

“Is that her?” Your friend points a finger at the woman, taken by surprise. “I didn’t know you finally had a girlfriend.”

You laugh the comment off. It was only a one night stand, you’re telling yourself. “She’s—not my girlfriend.”

“Really?” It sounds too good to be true, especially when he looks at her, a perfect match. “She’s certainly your type, all right. How long have you been dating?”

Nervously laughing, you struggle to answer right away. “Well—it’s only been—”

“Two days.” Wonyoung answers for you.

“Two days?” Your friend pops an animated expression, taken aback by the response. “No wonder my boy is down horrendous. My man got into his first relationship and already wants to take her for a cross country road trip.”

She smiles. Regardless of the situation, the one constant is the reassuring gleam of her lips. The moment it disappears, you know something has gone wrong.

Amused by his own remark, his ego partially stroked seeing that he’s made Wonyoung snicker, he hands you the key to his car, a four-door estate wagon. “I’ll need him back in seven days. Grandma’s gonna be mad if she finds out it’s not in her garage.”

That’s more than enough time for you to let the heat around you die down. Perhaps find the answers to many of your burning questions, and maybe change Wonyoung’s mind.

Giving him a friendly dap and a hug, you nod. “Thank you. Really.”

“Hey hey, no need to act soft in front of your girl,” he jests, turning his gaze to the woman, smirking, before facing you again. “Just don’t wreck the thing, all right? Especially after what happened to your apartment.”

He can’t help himself from poking fun at you when you’re already down. Even though it’s only been a day, the apartment explosion feels like a lifetime ago.

Hopping into the driver’s seat, Wonyoung waves your friend goodbye as you drive off, his shape shrinking smaller before disappearing entirely as she looks through the side-view mirror. The destination? Only God knows where. Even when she asks, you simply brush her aside, turning on the radio to keep the mood inside the car less awkward. One thing’s for certain: you’re never coming back here again.

So you drive. As much as you can, only stopping for the occasional refuel. The farther you go, the safer. It’s the only way you can keep Wonyoung safe. From cities to highways, from crowds to empty roads. Eventually you no longer get reception on your phone, rendering all forms of communication impossible. Hours pass; day turns to night. Wonyoung opens the sunroof to get a clear view of the starry skies, the pass of comets and shooting stars. 

They’re calling to her. Her eyes gleam and dilate, as if the cosmos is speaking to her.

Pulling over at an empty motel, you can’t quantify how far you’ve traveled. But seeing as you’re surrounded by nothing but desert, you figure that’s enough distance to go off-radar. As you try to walk in, Wonyoung remains staring upward, stuck in one of those deep states again. 

You call out her name, but to no response. A few moments later, she seemingly snaps from her daze, turning to you, but without saying a word.

Looking up to the stars, you ask her what’s going on. As you did to her earlier, she brushes your concerns aside, telling you there’s nothing to worry about and to focus on settling down for the night.

So you get yourselves a room, unsurprisingly with only one bed. Seeing as Wonyoung herself said she needs no sleep, you figure you can rest easily.

But you can’t. Not when Wonyoung’s cuddled up so close against you, your eyes only fixated on each other. With your gazes alone, you’re both saying a lot without uttering anything at all. She makes the first move, a quick peck of your lips, before immediately pulling away, and just like that, you’re completely disarmed.

Both of you being near naked already makes it easier.

You like Wonyoung when she bounces on your lap, gently moaning between hops and thrusts, every part of her ripped to shreds as you fuck her. She loves it when you run your fingers down her slender frame, brushing her long flowing dark hair, kissing her tummy and chest, taking solace in her warmth. Her pussy fits you like a glove—perfectly snug, perfectly yours. You love it when she’s making these incomprehensible sounds in your ear, delivered in the most saccharine tone you’ll ever hear. She loves it when you tell her she feels so fucking good, so fucking tight—loves it when you gasp in desperation, unable to break free from suffocating hold, resulting in your rapturous climax.

And it hits. Sends devastating shocks all over your body. 

“God—please, let me cum all over that face—” you rasp, using the last of your willpower before your orgasm fully consumes you, calling to her gracious side, but to no avail. Wonyoung takes you for every drop you’re worth, riding you hard while you lean back on the headboard, staring down her tight figure, her stomach contracting between every crash of her hips on yours. She’s so consumed by pleasure to hear you, her eyes shut, biting down on her lip to keep herself muted as she keens out cries of ecstasy.

Even as your cock withers, she can’t bring herself to stop, instead using her powers to spring you back to life for longer. Her lust completely swallows you whole, so much so that you eventually fold and share in her passion, using each other’s bodies till you both give out and keel over.

—————

The day after, as you’re about to leave and drive to who knows where, Wonyoung grabs your hand and stops you. “We should go here,” she says, pointing out a specific area on the vehicle’s GPS. In what appears to be the middle of nowhere, being several hundred miles away.

“How come? We can’t drive there overnight,” you tell her. In a faster car, it’s possible, but your friend’s family wagon wasn’t built for speed.

“That’s fine. We don’t have to hurry, we just have to get there in 5 days.” She uses the built-in GPS to measure the average distance and speed required to reach her intended destination, and you see she’s right again. 

You finally put two and two together, realizing this is where she’ll likely be picked up by her fellow aliens. You obviously don’t tell her that you know, because you know it’ll be best for you to keep silent about the matter. And if they leave without a hitch, it’ll most certainly mean you can return to a normal life sooner. You’re already dreading the days ahead. When she’s no longer with you, you’ll have nothing to lean on. Thinking about living without her bothers you greatly. At some point, you might try to change her mind and make her stay. You recognize that for your own sake and hers, it’s best that you part ways, but it doesn’t change the fact that letting go hurts. Maybe there’s a better solution that doesn’t involve having to say goodbye.

So keep those thoughts in the back of your mind, only focusing on the now. Making the most of her presence while she’s still around, but still keeping other options on the table.

The next few days follow a near-identical pattern: you drive nonstop, only pulling over for fuel, until you reach the next rest area by nightfall. Every night spent with Wonyoung is exploring each other’s bodies, putting her in positions you never thought you’d ever be doing with your favorite idol. At this point, you’ve deluded yourself into thinking it’s the real her, especially as she’s come and fully adjusted herself to earth’s culture, finally nailing her mannerisms and speech. Whatever you want to do, she happily obliges. Whether it’s on the desk, in the shower, on her knees, between her legs, or from behind—for anything and everything, Wonyoung willingly submits. It doesn’t help that her powers keep you up all night, and you’ve never felt any better waking up every single morning than with her by your side.

For the first time in your life, you feel like there’s someone who truly cares. Someone who makes you feel special, makes you feel alive. Now you understand that this was a fated encounter, destiny coming to pass. Intentional or not, she was meant to provide something meaningful: a purpose.

The realization hurts. You’ve already accepted that you have to let her go. You know that when she leaves, you’ll be left with nothing. And that makes it worse.

While Wonyoung sleeps peacefully in your arms, you give her a soft peck on her temple, gently brushing loose strands of her hair. Looking at her sweet face, you can’t help but start sobbing. Fighting back the tears as the end draws near, remembering what your friend said, to keep a cool face while she’s around—

But you can’t.

Your quiet sobs go unnoticed. Looking out the window from the bed, the sky appears dark and gloomy, with bright flashes of lightning passing between clouds. 

The earth is going to cry on your behalf.

—————

You’re wishing the days lasted longer, but here you are, pulling up at the intended destination with hardly any drama. Like most of where you’ve been travelling these past few days, everywhere you look is nothing but empty desert and the occasional tree, even down to the tumbleweeds. As it turns out, you’ve arrived a few hours ahead of schedule. That’s what happens when you’ve been driving on empty roads. Admittedly, it’s a nice change of pace compared to the city. Less noise, less annoying people on the streets.

“So this is it, right?” you ask Wonyoung as both of you are stepping out the car, searching for any signs of life. Nothing. You might be the only two people to have ever willingly stepped foot on this place, considering this doesn’t even have a name on any GPS, map, or on Google Earth.

She nods in agreement. 

“We’re just gonna wait here until something happens, right?” you add, almost slipping out the notion that you know she’s going to leave.

Having gone a few steps ahead of you, Wonyoung looks over her shoulder, catches you leaning by the car’s hood. “You’re going to miss me a lot. I will too.”

Your eyes go wide. Of course she knew all along. Either that or you’ve never been the best at keeping secrets.

“So what happens after? Will you try to exterminate all of us?”

“Truthfully, I have no clue.” Wonyoung turns around and approaches you. “We may be an invasive species, but we do not act until our judge gives his word to attack. But the chances of us sparing a planet? Next to none.”

“So you’re saying the odds are low, but not zero,” you remark, finding some solace in the fact. You’ve seen miracles happen, and you’re not referring to her.

She takes her place beside you on the car’s hood, drawing out a pair of sunglasses from the pocket of her pants. The same ones you’ve given her. Putting them on you, she says, “Protect your eyes, babe.”

Even now, Wonyoung makes you smile. Under her watchful eye and with her powers, she makes sure you’re not burning up under the sweltering sun. The last memory she wishes to impart with you is a reminder of all the good experiences you’ve shared with her. That in the end, she’s about as close to the image you’ve envisioned in her head.

No matter how distant she may be, you belong to her and she belongs to you. Your love for Wonyoung stretches out wider than anything in this universe.

Eventually the sun sets, and day turns to night. The entire time, you’ve never let go of Wonyoung—not until she says so, and she’s more than comfortable staying in your arms. You could honestly cuddle up with her like this no matter how long, God willing. She’s all you need to feel complete.

As the stars in the night sky come out in full force, Wonyoung gently disentangles herself from you as her body glows with a familiar pinkish light. Putting some distance away from you, she begins levitating off the ground. Large waves of dust begin to spiral in a circular direction, separating you further from her. You can’t see through the cloud of dirt other than her bright gleam inside the widening cloud.

Wonyoung floats higher and higher above the ground, met in the air by a faint silhouette in the shape of a UFO. It uncloaks itself and reveals its massive size, larger than the average commercial aircraft in every department. She gradually transforms into a form more resembling the aliens you’ve seen in other media; an incomprehensible silhouette of clear white energy. 

Though you can barely fathom Wonyoung’s appearance, you can tell she’s looking down at you as her and the spaceship rises even higher. No matter how much you’ve been preparing for this moment, you’re still not ready to say goodbye.

All of a sudden, you hear gunshots. Ear-deafening pops and crackles. The roar of other vehicles quickly approaching. You look, and a half-dozen black SUVs are moving angrily towards the direction of the ship, with agents firing from their vehicles. Right on their trail are a pair of white vans. Stopping a few feet from where you’re standing, men in hazmat suits emerge from the vehicles and quickly grab hold of you, pinning you to the ground. 

One of the men in biohazard suits is holding that same alien exposure radar you’ve seen before. “Dangerous levels of extraterrestrial radiation,” he remarks, evaluating his finding on a tiny screen. “You have no idea what kinda threats we’re facing. Who knows what these aliens have already done to you.”

Another agent is holding what appears to be a deadly weapon with the intent to kill. “Nothing personal, but this is for the good of our planet.”

There’s a lot happening all at once. On one hand, the alien is still high above the ground, seemingly frozen mid-air, along with their spaceship. On the other, you have several dozen government agents from an unknown branch trying to shoot the two entities down. And then there’s you, moments away from becoming forgotten forever because you spent a whole week with said alien.

You never wanted any part of this.

As the agent prepares to strike you down from behind, the bright glow in the sky flashes a blinding, colorful gleam of energy, drawing everyone’s attention—including yours. The alien descends down to earth by herself. Transforming into Wonyoung, her eyes gleam bright white, her body surrounded by a wave of power. 

One of the commanders shouts to his men to open fire at her, but she takes no damage from any of their weapons. She lifts her hand, creating a pulse that sends everyone flying back, helping you escape your captor’s binds.

She steps forward and approaches you as you get up from the ground, but the agents won’t quit. Without concern as to you getting caught in the crossfire, more weapons are used, but she casually generates a force field around herself.

Her body is charging up with a colorful flash of energy, threatening to destroy them all. The only thing keeping her from ending everyone’s existence is your voice calling out to her. 

“Stop. Please.”

In that moment, she sees you running toward her, and the fiery glow surrounding her weakens.

Suddenly, a loud bang rips through everyone’s eardrums. It’s a bullet aimed toward her, except your head is standing in the way. 

Mere inches from ending your life, time comes to a complete standstill. Including you.

Wonyoung floats over to you, sees the tears in your eyes, your mouth wide, crying out in desperation. To keep her from going down a dark path. She interlocks your hand with hers, placing her lips against your ear, giving you a gentle kiss.

It’s a bittersweet sound. “Goodbye.”

The last thing you see before your world goes dark is a radiant flash of light. A glimpse of heaven.

—————

You expected paradise to be a land flowing with milk and honey, not a sandy beach along the coastline.

You also expected no pain, no more suffering, not a mild headache as you wake up. So no, you’re not there just yet. But this place might be the closest heaven can be on Earth.

The sun shines directly overhead as you wander around aimlessly in your new surroundings, confused and still reeling from whatever happened in your dream. Luckily, there’s civilization nearby, people included. A welcome sight for sore eyes.

Approaching a man who appears to be waiting for a bus, you go on and ask him, “Do you know where we are?”

He looks at you as if you’re a crazy person for asking such a question. “Eh? You don’t look like you’re from around here. We’re in Lagos, man.”

“Lagos?” Your eyes widen at the response, as equally as confused as he is. The bus arrives in time for him to leave you high and dry, but you follow him inside, still trying to make sense of where you are. 

You ask the bus driver the same question. He gives you the same answer. You really are in Lagos. In a completely different country. A stranger in a strange land.

Upon arriving at the nearest town, you try to give the driver his fare, only to realize you’ve got the wrong currency on hand. But you still pay anyway, nonchalant about the amount, hoping off before he gets a chance to question you.

Soaking in the sights and sounds, the locals are conversing in a language you can’t understand. Even the signs are also a challenge to read. Why you’ve been transported here, you have no idea.

But not all hope is lost. Mercifully, the ATM you find still happens to be completely English. Checking your savings account, you can’t help but stagger back at how much money’s left. It’s more than enough to set you for this life and in the next.

In any other circumstance, you would have been pinching yourself, trying to wake up from this fantasy. But it’s not a dream. This is reality. 

You’re in a better place compared to yesterday.

—————

It doesn’t take long to acclimate to your new life. 

You learn the native language. You open up a small bakery in the heart of the city. The locals quickly accept you as one of their own; you’re in good company. For the first time in a long time, you feel at home.

When you’re not working in the city, you spend your nights staring at the beautiful sky. The little house you’ve bought resting on the hillside is ideal for stargazing. It also helps that Lagos is still a quaint, humble city compared to the metropolises of yesterday. Every now and then, a shooting star flies by; you’re wishing one of them is her. 

You’d happily trade it all for a heartbeat. Just one more opportunity to see her again.

Several months go by. You read the announcement: she’s coming to Portugal for the first time, bringing the rest of the group along with her. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her in concert, so of course you’ve already got the day and date marked on your calendar, as well as the best seats in the house.

She’s still the same person you’ve envisioned in your head after all these years.

At points, you get a sense that she recognizes you with her occasional passing glances. Brief moments in time where you’re taken back: moments that you’ve never forgotten, not in the slightest. But that’s what they ultimately are: fleeting glances.

She may not even be looking at you to begin with. Still, a guy can dream.

After the show ends, you’re ready to move on. Live your life like everyone else. You’re no longer fettered by the past; you’re going to leave it all behind. Everything is new.

As you’re about to open the door to your car, you hear a gentle, familiar voice calling to you.

“Hey.”

You turn around. What you see leaves you completely stunned. Lo and behold, it’s Wonyoung. The real Wonyoung. Live and in living color. Smiling, standing a few feet away by herself, carrying an air of sweet innocence.

You can’t help but drop your car keys.

“I don’t think I know you, but I feel like I should." She picks up the keys off the ground, placing them back into your hand. "Let me get to know you.”

—————

(A/N: In case you're wondering where I've been for a month, it's because of this! This is the longest fic I've ever written, clocking in at barely under 15K words. I've had this idea of a first contact/alien story ever since Supernova Love released (the song and Wonyoung herself fits the tone/concept I was looking into, a godly being not from this planet), so this has been in the works for quite some time. I got way too invested in the story that the smut ended up half-baked, but I hope you enjoy the overall narrative regardless. I considered just posting this without the smut (as I had written the whole plot and edited before even writing a single word of smut, but still wanted to add some fanservice XD). Anyway, I'm looking forward to IVE Empathy; not a big fan of Rebel Heart, but knowing IVE, their title tracks never miss.)

(I'd like to give special thanks to @msafterhours for helping me with the ending, as well as offering general advice in fixing the narrative; this is my favorite fic I've written since Too many nights in part due to the greater emphasis I placed on the plot and characters. Thank you for reading!)

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language; s.g.

synopsis: when gojo satoru first fell in love with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, gojo is head over heels (love at first sight), hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo just being an absolute fool in love, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: I've been wanting to create a sort of anthology series for some of my favs so here's a test run! I rlly wanna do lil drabbles/oneshots that can both be standalone but also can be read as something continuous revolving around Gojo's story with his soulmate... pls lmk if you'd like to see more of gojo and his mochi (aka you!)

Gojo Satoru didn't entirely know what love was; what with being raised by other people who weren't his actual mother and father, how could he? All he ever knew was a life of being the Honored One, since the day he was born. Nothing but a weapon. Living as the strongest and treated like a god... he never knew what real love felt like. He never knew what it was like to give or receive it. At least, not this way.

Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko were his best friends, the closest thing to real family. It wasn't like he didn't have any, at least not while growing up, but were they really family when all they ever did was train him and treat him like the eighth wonder of the world? Unlike everyone else, at least Suguru and Shoko treated him like a human. They loved him for who he was, but didn't hesitate to snap him into place when his ego was too inflated. They were there for him, even when expressing whatever demons that he held within him was hard to manage. If it wasn't for them, he wasn't sure exactly how he'd go about his life. Sure, he'd act like everything was fine and dandy, money could buy him happiness as he had plenty of it... and he was pretty much unstoppable, but the idea of living a life without either of them didn't sit well in his stomach.

So, sure, Satoru did now a bit about love, at least the love he felt for his best friends, but nothing like what he felt in this moment. The moment his eyes first fell on you.

He hadn't a clue as to who you were, only seeing you stroll along the grounds of Jujutsu High with your little uniform. The typical jacket, a skirt beneath, knee high socks, loafers... and your hair in a low ponytail that was held together by an overly large ribbon. Cute was the first thing that came to mind, along with the terrifying sound of his racing heart. Who were you? How come he had never seen you before? Maybe it was because he didn't pay attention to any one else besides a handful of people. He'd be lying if he said he was sure the technical college held more than five students. 

In the midst of sipping away at his little box of strawberry milk, walking alongside Suguru and Shoko, Satoru's eyes had aimlessly wandered along his environment as his two best friends had been discussing evening plans. It wasn't like him to care about what was going on around him, so it was quite the miracle that his eyes were looking anywhere but ahead of him... but, maybe this was destiny.

It felt like the world was suddenly moving slowly around him, rather dramatically like a movie. His lips parted as the tiny straw fell out of it, hidden gaze behind his circular frames becoming exposed as the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. You looked so graceful, the afternoon sun beaming down on you, your smile as bright as his eyes... he had to have been in love. This had to have been love. What else could it have been? Why else was his heart fluttering so quickly? Why else was he caught in a daze by your beauty? No one else, not a single soul, ever caught his attention this way so you must've been his soulmate.

There was something about you, from your gorgeous hair, to the cute bow, down to the uniform and the way it suited your form to the way you... wait, were you laughing with... Nanami Kento? Gojo's heart stopped as his grip on the milk grew tight, causing the contents to squeeze right out and squirt all over his face.

The sound of laughter caught his attention as he quickly looked at his two best friends, embarrassment filling his face as he looked back at you to see you now looking in his direction. Quickly wiping his face and turning away to scold his best friends, Gojo tossed the now empty carton at Geto. "Shut up!"

"What the hell did you do?" Suguru shook his head, wiping his tears as his shoulders shook with every laugh that rumbled throughout his torso. "Losing your cool over a girl, huh?"

"I said shut up!" Satoru snapped, cheeks burning with heat, embarrassed that he was that obvious.

"Must've struck something in him for him to spill milk all over his face like the doofus he is," Shoko snickered as Suguru went for a high five.

Swatting their hands and glaring at the two, Gojo hissed, "nothing happened, I squeezed too hard."

"Right," the two said in sync before eyeing one another, smirking and stifling a laugh.

Shoving past them as he kept walking ahead, grumbling to himself, Gojo couldn't help but peak over in your direction. You had already turned your attention back to the two on either side of you—Nanami along with Yu Haibara. Since when did they have a friend that was a girl? And when did you appear? He should've known seeing as both were his junior and both trained quite close to Suguru and himself. So you must've been new... He supposed he'd find more out about you, knowing he'd find a way to get under Nanami's skin and get anything out of him. He must've known a lot about you...

Gojo smirked to himself. He'd get his way.

"No," Nanami spoke as he crossed his arms. The confidence in Gojo's face instantly fading away. He didn't even hesitate, cancelling his plans with his best friends to bribe Kento into giving him some information. He swore taking his junior to his favorite bakery would help him out, but, no! Kento, being the wise boy he was, took advantage of Satoru paying for food in a false exchange for information. "I'm not going to be your middle man."

"Why not?!" Gojo whined, throwing himself back in his seat dramatically. "Just one thing! Something! Anything! She's the love of my life!"

Narrowing his eyes as he sipped away at his water, Nanami settled the glass down before crossing his arms once again. "Love of your life? You don't even know her name—"

"Because you won't tell me!" Gojo cried, throwing his head back and stomping his foot as if he was about to throw a tantrum. "Please, please! I beg of you, tell me something about her! Besides her name, what's her favorite color? Maybe her favorite food? Or... or what's her favorite date spot!"

"Satoru, I am not about to ask her what her favorite date spot is," Nanami deadpanned. "I'll give you her name and that's all. Everything else is on you. I'm not going to play matchmaker, let alone, set you up with someone so far out of your league."

Gasping in offense, Gojo clutched his chest. "Out of my league? Sure, she's a pure angel, a real heavenly being, but I like to think I am, too!"

"Egotistical..." Kento mumbled as Gojo frowned. "I'm only telling you one thing to get you off my back. You can't ask me anything ever again in order to get close to her. That's on you."

Pressing his hands together and interlocking his fingers, Gojo gave his best puppy eyes as he jutted out his bottom lip. "Please, I promise to leave you be after!"

"You better," the blond man grumbled before giving his senior your name. "She likes to sit under the cherry blossoms on the eastern side of the campus. If you want to find her and talk to her, she's usually there on her down time." At that, Nanami stood up and tucked his seat back into the table. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped in his tracks, turning to face the white haired young man. "All I ask of you is to be... gentle. She's a nice girl. I don't need you breaking her heart."

Sitting up with confidence as a wide grin took over his face, Satoru nodded with his thumbs up. "Believe me, I wont! I know this is love!" Seeing Nanami roll his eyes before leaving, Gojo happily sighed before looking out the window. Leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, he eyed the cherry blossom that had petals delicately swaying in the wind. "She's my soulmate, I know we are destined to be."

[specialmouse]

DONATE — @ghadaanqar1

The Weight of Water: Khaled’s Story

5 am. Wake up to the frozen dark. You feel the cold before you remember where you are, then who you are. It makes less and less sense every time. You look up at the concrete ceiling and it all comes crashing back down on you again. A year of this and it hasn’t gotten any easier to wake up—it just gets heavier, and heavier, and heavier. Your baby niece, Noor, coughs in the corner, choking on the fluid in her lungs. There’s nothing stopping you from catching what she has except whatever cruel strain of luck has remained with you. It isn’t luck that keeps you alive, at least not completely. What keeps you alive is yourself—not your soul, no. Your muscles, your bones, your tendons, your animal body. It screeches in pain as it adjusts to the waking world, but you let it join every other scream you ignored last night. You have to get water today, just like yesterday, and the day before, and before, and before…

There’s something else you have to do first, though. Your brothers join you in the back-breaking, kilometers-long trek for water, and your sister and mother help make the bread from the flour you buy at the market—but who makes the money for that? That’s on you, now. Not your father, not anymore. Before the war, you used to fantasize about this, about taking care of everyone. You were going to school to make so much money that no one born in your family name would ever have to lift a finger again. Now your job is sending your story to Westerners online, desperately hoping they can send enough money to buy a bag of flour.

The money trickles in slowly. Not only is it hard to manage the outreach and carry the water and buy the flour and patch the windows and comfort the baby and look for medicine and—God, is it going to end soon? You’re so tired. You’re so, so tired… and it’s gotten worse.

Recently you found a website with users more sympathetic to your cause. The website itself, though, is hostile; it sees you as a scammer, as a pest. It’s blocked your messages from reaching your helpers, the people who have helped bring in the money that has kept your family alive. You make another account, and message your helpers, but they won’t respond. You plead with them in their language and it still does nothing. Why are they ignoring you? Have you become another scream in the distance? Was that all it took for them to leave you?

Before the war, you used to swim in the sea for hours, surrounded by water on all sides. You would float on your back and close your eyes to the sun. The water could have carried you forever.

In the corner, Noor coughs, and coughs, and coughs.

————————

Ghada’s old account has been shadowbanned by Tumblr!! She is now @ghadaanqar1!! Please do not ignore her during this time, make sure to share this post so that she regains the support she had, it is keeping her family alive…

@omegaversereloaded @punkitt-is-here @tamamita @skunkes @ot3 @valtsv @wolfertinger666 @paper-mario-wiki @nyancrimew @spongebobssquarepants @sabertoothwalrus @90-ghost @komsomolka @sawasawako @wolf-aid @hotvampireadjacent @necromancelena @certifiedsexed @isuggestforcefem @3000s @chokulit @ankle-beez @pitbolshevik @pissvortex @prisonhannibal @apas-95 @neechees @memingursa @afro-elf @vampiricvenus @turtletoria @marxism-transgenderism @beetledrink @bevsi @beserkerjewel @feluka @i-am-a-fish @spacebeyonce @b0nkcreat @11thsense @grox @aflo @slimetony @boobieteriat @iregularlyevadetaxes

[pomefioredove]

if its ok can i request a overblot boys and ruggie and kamil with a reader that just forgets to eat? like they can go the whole day without eating then suddenly they just get dizzy cause they haven't eaten and when they get asked why they passed out/not ate they're like "lol yeah i forgot to eat my bad gang🧍🏻" they're just so nonchalant and act like its whatever😭its ok if not if this makes you uncomfortable!! Love your blog pookie and make sure YOU eat properly💥💥

ahh... just like me fr. this ask actually reminded me to eat, thank you!

summary: reader who forgets to eat type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, mentions of food and not eating!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Riddle is also guilty of this

it's not that he's neglectful, it's just that...

...well... he's a little neglectful

it's usually Trey who has to remind him to take breaks from studying

none of that will stop him from scolding you, though

"What were you thinking, going a whole day without a meal? It's no wonder you're always so tired!"

expect lots of snacks from him after he's done berating you

he sends someone every day to make sure you've had something

(both a blessing and a curse)

you'll be in your room then suddenly Che'nya is there asking if you had lunch yet

and if not, you'll be recieving an invitation to Heartslabyul for tea

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona can't be bothered to ask why you're always so... out of it

he just assumes that's your personality

he even teases you for it, once or twice

then Jack offhandedly mentions that you rarely eat until dinner, and he gets all... worried

Ugh

suddenly, his room is always stocked with your favorite snacks from Sam's

what? no, they're not for you. he's just taken a liking to 'em. but you're welcome to have some if you'd like

his act is unconvincing

"What? Stop looking at me like that. I'm not some sap. I'm just making sure you don't go passing out on me,"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ruggie is worried that Crowley's cut your food rations

he'd been mooching off of you for a few months now, after all

plus, he knows what it's like to go hungry

of course, he doesn't outright ask. he doesn't want to embarrass you or anything

he just... casually offers to split meals and comes over once a week with half of his forage greens

"What, this? Nah, I just had extra. What, you're complaining about free food? Shishishi,"

you repay the gesture by making him a few meals, and it becomes a little tradition between the two of you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

why, oh why, does Azul have to care about you so much?

he's become familiar that exact look on your face; distant, dizzy, disoriented...

and he's caught himself mid-scold far too many times

"Have you no sense of self-preservation? You can't keep relying on others to care for you; you'll only be taken advantage of,"

...and, of course, he's the poor soul who cares for you

he convinces himself that verbal reminders cost nothing

then he starts sending the tweels to make sure you've eaten

and then he insists you drop by the Mostro Lounge at least once a day

it's not that he's giving you his time and energy for free

he's just making an investment in you!

that's it. NOTHING ELSE! (<- lies)

(cue tweels giggling in the background)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Jamil

first Kalim, and now he has you to worry about, too?

of course; he has no obligation to help. that's what he tells himself

nothing will happen if he just ignores you

...except that sinking feeling in his stomach

Sevens, help him...

he starts letting you help around the kitchen

just... tidying up, doing the dishes, etc

and if you happen to want a bite of what he's cooking? ohoho, who is he to deny you the chance to test for poison?

(feigns to mention that these dishes have already been tasted)

"Good? Why, I'm flattered. You're welcome to help any time- how about tomorrow?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim will never pass a chance to host

you offhandedly mention that you forget to eat sometimes? just come over for breakfast!

and lunch

and dinner!

and you'll stay for dessert, too, won't you?

he's nothing if not gracious, and he has a penchant for taking care of others

he likes feeling useful, after all

just be ready to give him your full thoughts and feelings on every dish; he's already making a mental list of your favorites to serve every time you come over

"Hungry? No problem! We have all your faves waiting for you. What music do you want to listen to while we eat?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you know that Vil loves you, right?

so, so much?

good. because that love makes him want to shake you

of all the stupid things...

it's no use trying to hide it from him; you could look and act completely normal and he'd still see right through you

he can just tell

he has to restrain himself from threatening Crowley into letting you stay at Pomefiore so he can care for you

Vil believes you're capable, after all. you just need a little push

"I've set a daily reminder and stocked your kitchen. Remember that some food is better than none. If you need me for anything, I'll see to it as soon as possible,"

you can expect Epel and Rook to ask if you've eaten, on his behalf, every time you run into each other

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia sets like, 30 reminders in your phone

he knows as well as you do that three measly alarms won't be enough

...he, too, is guilty of forgetting to eat

he probably makes you a custom alarm sound and everything

a little pavlovian conditioning never hurt anyone, right? it's basically no different than training an AI

...or something like that

will send Ortho over to check your vitals every once in a while

"it's NBD. can't have u losing all your lives on me. who would tolerate me then?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

thank your lucky stars it's Malleus who notices your drowsiness first and not Lilia

Malleus, at least, will find you something edible to eat

he's trying to keep you alive, after all

he's very sweet and gentle about it

soft little reminders, nudges to keep you awake... he will up and leave a dorm meeting if he realizes he doesn't know if you'd had anything yet today

Malleus is very conscious about human mortality, and is very... delicate about it

he's just a little overprotective, that's all

it mostly comes to sharing little treats together every now and then. it feels less awkward when you're together, after all

"There is no need to thank me. I'm simply happy to spend my time with you,"

[pinkseas]

my dealer: got some straight gas, this strain is called "sovereign of elegance" you'll be zonked out of your gourd

me: yeah whatever. i dont feel shit.

15 minutes later

me: the previous sovereign of elegance, glorier, had fiery red hair and won her title while wearing a black gown. she vanished 15 years ago, her last known location in the wishing woods. the same time frame that the other missing stylists were kidnapped by the paladins and locked up underground in the wishing woods. in the diary pages of an unknown stylist, the writer refers to the wish master as nothing more than a "puppet" of the dark, and remarks that they've been cruelly experimented on, their body tortured. "even bathing in this moonlight is a rare luxury." the banshee is only ever out at night, under the moonlight, but nobody save for you has actually encountered her clearly. those who might recognize her as glorier haven't ever seen the banshee themselves. the banshee refers to those she enthralls as her puppets, and there are multiple places where her body looks cracked and damaged, more like a porcelain doll than human skin. that same diary remarks that the writer has a daughter waiting at home, and that "even in this dire situation, i will never submit. the unyielding elegance within my resolute and noble soul is my last ace." a torn note found in the room where the humans were imprisoned states that the strongest were tortured and perished or disappeared, expressing a want to go home, written in a very similar manner to the way the banshee herself speaks at the end of your duel with her. if you fail, the banshee tells you to become her puppet and suffer alongside her. an imperfect victory mentions that memories are not enough. a brilliant stylist is rumored to have opened a realm that no one else has entered before, and some say that the most exceptional stylists might even create their own personal realms. cantore's poem states that should one be a fool, their soul will fall into "that bewildering realm" to become another puppet, ensnared for all eternity. "the bitter end awaits with no return, leading you into the heart of the night's abyss, where even the stars fade away." underground, those imprisoned stylists couldn't even see the stars. the reason they were locked up was to attempt to recreate the power of the aureum vase for chigda, who had made a deal with The Dark for eternal life. from him the power of the mutated vines returned, but he was not their original source, nor did they vanish when he was defeated without need for giroda's sacred power. those mutated vines bear great resemblance to the vines, thorns, and roses surrounding the banshee within the visuals of cantore's poem. the banshee wants her puppets to suffer with her, implying that she herself is already suffering. is she, too, a puppet of the dark? back then, could creating a realm have allowed her to escape? did something go wrong? did she, like giovanni, attempt to make a deal with the paladins or chigda, only for it to backfire? did she attempt to defeat chigda herself, only to become corrupt by the vines? if she was captured and held in the wishing woods and hails from florawish, why is it that the banshee now haunts the breezy meadow and shimmer pond specifically? igrainne forbade nonoy from investigating more about her past. the banshee chants a bewildering melody, not dissimilar to that melody of the wishing one from nonoy's music box, the one left with her by her birth mother. how much does igrainne know? was she worried for nonoy solely because of the nature of glorier's disappearance, or is there more to it? could the direct power of the wishful aurosa be enough to save the banshee? how much of her past life does the banshee remember? what am i missing?

my friend nikki pacing: how do i tell nonoy i need to fuck her mom

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ my muse (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : max verstappen x fem reader

summary : the chaotic private account of an artistic soul 💫

tw : fluff, a little chaos, suggestive

a/n : So this was requested anonymously, so if you are seeing this, Hope you like it 💫

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ��ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by max1, lordperceval, albono, lilihye, alexamiuex, and 37 others

maxwife the italian view 💫 one for the day ☀️ one for the night 🌝

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liked by max1, albono, hamwich, fransisca.gnomes and 28 others

maxwife the muse and the art 💫

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