#so you end up in a total alternate reality

[qqueenofhades]

Also, just as an overall observation, I really can't help but wonder how much better things might be if we actually tried to teach kids about the complexities of the world, rather than "Protecting Them."

(But that's the one thing the right wing literally can't stand, so god forbid we do that.)

[monstersholygrail]

Do Hybrid!Readers count?

I’m thinking of a monster Reader being kept for research purposes and catching the attention of the newest hire. Cheeky, beastly Reader with an awkward, nerdy scientist who unsuccessfully tries to hide his infatuation. He stares for too long, finds pathetic excuses to work overtime, and pretends to be deeply interested in whatever topic involves Reader. Lately, he’s been spotted reading a book about Reader’s kind, particularly mating habits. For, uh, science, mind you.

Alternatively, it can be a human Reader in a monster lab. I just found the dynamic funny. :)

Aaaah, yes yes! It definitely counts, I love this sorta dynamic. It can be really hilarious and a ton of fun ^_^

None of the Scientists in the lab could really figure you out. You were a giant beast who appeared naturally incredibly threatening. So all the scientists had been a bit hesitant to get in close and really figure out what kind of Hybrid you were exactly.

But they just had to. Because for some reason, some idiot had accidently leaked to the press that they had you in custody. Before they knew it there were countless pictures and articles plastered all over the internet about you. People wanted answers and they sadly had to be the ones to get them. So they brought in a specialist.

The young Scientist stared up at you in awe the first time he met you. He couldn’t actually believe he was meeting you up close. He didn’t know how to react. In fact, he didn’t know anything at all when it came to you. You see, he wasn’t actually a hybrid specialist. He was a scientist, that part was true! Everything else may have been a slight exaggeration on his application.

He just wanted to see you so so bad. He had to. The moment he saw those pictures of you he knew the two of you were meant to be. You were the reason he had never totally clicked with humans, couldn’t keep a partner, and had never fallen in love. His heart was waiting for you.

And now that he was with you, he needed to know everything about you. Not only to sate his own desire but also, ya know, to keep his job. Or else some foolish human might try and separate him from you again. It left him fawning over you constantly, watching you all day everyday, always staying late just so he could be alone with you for a couple hours, and butting in whenever someone tried to talk about you. Because of course he knew you best.

His growing knowledge of you left him convinced you were nearing your heat. Your restless behavior. The way you kept banging against the glass trying to get to him. Over the weeks you had noticed his interest and his care and yours had grown just as much. You had chosen him as your mate and he wanted to be there for you.

The only thing he could think to do was read books on mating behaviors. Of just about every single Hybrid species you could possible be.

Stacks of books surround him in the lab. His interest of you hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Not by a long shot. But they brushed off his strange behavior if jt kept him closer to you and them farther away. They avoid him now too, looking at him like the absolute freak he is as they realize what he’s reading.

Their worry doesn’t decrease when he later explains how you need to mate soon in order to keep you in check. They look at him like he’s truly gone insane and maybe he has. The wild look in his eye has only grown more intense the more he’s been around you without truly being with you.

He convinces them with the idea that you’ll be better after you’ve mated. Easier to handle. More open to having experiments done on you while your body is sated and exhausted after being fucked for hours on end. While in reality, from what he’s studied, the opposite is true.

He doesn’t plan on letting them go anywhere within a mile of you. Not with injections, chemicals, and especially not with their grubby little hands. No, only he can touch you. Only he deserves to be near your beauty and grace.

After you mate with him you’re going to be even more wild and destructive, your instincts inflamed and ready to fight. He’s gonna use that to get you two out of that lab if it’s the last thing he does.

Meanwhile the other scientists don’t suspect a thing as they stand a safe distance away from the cage as it opens to let the young scientist inside. The metal door snaps shut once he’s inside and he feels like he can finally breathe now that there’s nothing keeping you two a part.

Mirroring smirks grow on your faces, your expressions speaking of a secret just between the two of you. And as you both finally meet each other in a passionate embrace, you know this will be a wild night that will end with your freedom and a mate by your side.

[writingthroughmyass]

Service Animal (Part one)

My mans Logan Howlett X Reader (afab)

Part two here

WARNING: This is soooo self insert it's not even funny. I get weird migraines that present like absent seizures and thought it would be nice to get a warning beforehand by my favourite babygirl Logan (like my own personal service animal). This is gonna be in three parts, it's mostly finished and ends in smooshing so be ready for that ;)

UPDATE: turns out my migraines are actually mini strokes :)

The after effects of using your power was kicking your ass.

In a daze, you made it to your private room and went straight to your bathroom. You felt the nausea rising up in your throat and quickly opened the toilet lid to throw up. 

The multiple alternate realities of what could have happened tonight flashed before your eyes. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Logan, all collapsed on the floor, dead. Their screams played in a relentless loop in your head; you were dissociating badly. Your surroundings melted away until there was nothing but the countless ways they could have died if you hadn't bent reality to avoid it. 

Always. It's always like this. 

Gradually, you begin to return to your body, only to realise there was someone in the room with you, holding your hair back. 

Terrified, your body snapped up from its kneeling position to face the intruder. 

“Woah, hey, it's just me. Calm down.”

“L-Logan?” you slurred, suddenly feeling self conscious of the smell of your breath. 

“I knocked and called out but you didn't answer. So I came in to check on you.” 

You eyed him, feeling suspicious of how out of character this was for him. 

“Why are you looking at me like I'm lying? I'm not totally heartless,” he said defensively.

“Why'd you come in the first place to see me though? I thought you were pissed with me,” you grumble.

When you'd overdone it with your powers, Logan threw a hissy fit and yelled at you for going too far. While you knew it was out of care, it still rankled you that he was acting as if you were a child. You knew what you were doing. 

“I… just had a bad feeling,” he said quietly. “Y'know how I've got my heightened senses. I could tell something was off with you.”

“I'm fine. Just need to rest. This is normal for me.”

You turned around to the bathroom sink and grabbed your toothbrush. You gave your teeth and tongue a quick clean, wanting to just wash all the blood off your body so you could sleep. 

It felt like you had a raging hangover from drinking Everclear all night. 

When you turned from the sink you noticed Logan was still there. 

“Uh… need something? I wanna get ready for bed and pass out.”

“Yeah, I need to know you're okay,” he says.

“I told you, I'm fine. I'm going to shower so please leave.” 

Your patience was wearing thin. But you were also aware that some of it was nervousness coming out as aggression. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, although his attitude left much to be desired. His behaviour tonight was quite frankly really sweet and it was psyching you out. You were already in the midst of losing touch with reality and his actions were so contradictory to his usual self that it was causing you a psychotic break. 

“You're not listening to me,” he ground out, losing some of his own patience. “I'm telling you that something is wrong with you.” 

You stared silently at him, mouth slightly hanging open. 

“Okay, that came out the wrong way.” He was ruffling his hair in agitation. Cute. “What I'm saying is- I'm… ah…”

“Please, Logan, I just want a shower so I can go to bed…”

“Look, I'll just wait in your room and I'll leave once you're in bed safe, ‘kay,” he says, turning to the door and walking out, shutting it behind himself. 

Fuck. 

You just wanted to be alone so you could have a good cry. You were incredibly confused about what in the world was going on but now you were really getting scared. And Logan's words were not helping. 

What if he's right and this time your connection with reality has been completely severed? But what else were you supposed to do? Let them all die? Even with your special training with Charles, your power was so unruly and chaotic that it was terrifying. You had to be careful or there would be no way back. 

You got undressed and turned on the shower, stepping inside. It was only once you were under the hot stream of water that you realised you'd left your pyjamas in your bedroom. You groaned aloud. Fuck, now you'd have to walk in front of Logan in nothing but a towel. Why the fuck was he here? You wished he'd just leave. 

You watched the dried blood wash away from your skin, turning the floor of your shower a bright red. 

You felt your stomach drop and your head turned fuzzy. The sound of your shower disappeared. The safety of your surroundings melted away. 

Scott, his eyes gouged out from his head. Ororo’s limbs crumpled every which way, her eyes clouded over not because of her powers but because she was lifeless. Jean, her neck holding on to her body by a thread, her cranium blasted open and her brain dripping down her face. 

Logan, on the ground, ripped to shreds, his Adamantium bones showing through his torn flesh. And the wounds weren't healing. 

It was always like this. As if you were being punished for playing god. It was as if all the horrible realities you prevented from happening still lived on but solely in your mind, driving you insane. It left scars of trauma on your psyche, Charles had told you. So you had to be careful in how you used your powers or you may become completely untethered from reality. A fate worse than death. 

Vaguely, you could hear yourself mumbling and gasping and swallowing loudly, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the mess of your mind. 

You were trying desperately to connect back with your body but at the same time you didn't want to because it only meant having to fight this same battle over and over again. 

Seeing your friends die before your very eyes in hundreds of thousands of different ways, experiencing each traumatic story to its conclusion. Only to have it all unravel into a reality where none of it happened, but the whiplash makes you doubt this reality too. It's always too good to be true. You feel it in your bones that you don't deserve this. That the way you twist reality is wrong and one day it'll catch up to you in the worst possible way. 

You feel water running down your face and remember that you're in the shower. You try to ground yourself and come back to your body. You hear the water splashing, feel the ground beneath your feet, the solid embrace around you. 

You try to move but you can't. Finally, you snap fully to your body. Your mind is groggy, feeling like you'd been hit by a truck. But there's the unmistakable warmth surrounding you, dense and as unyielding as brick. 

Your face is roughly yanked upwards and you open your eyes.

“Fuck, finally! Are you alright?” 

You stare blearily, mouth open and dry from the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body just moments ago.

Bright hazel eyes. Huh. So pretty. You'd never noticed. 

You realise you're not supporting your own weight. You're finally aware that Logan has you in an embrace, holding your body up, one hand around your waist and the other on your jaw as he looks into your face. The water on your face isn't from the shower, you realise. It's your tears. 

“Bloody hell, please say something,” he says angrily. You feel some of your own anger flare up in response. What's his problem? 

“Fuck,” you croak. 

You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he laughs, suddenly aware that you're as naked as the day you were born and this man is fully clothed standing in your shower, getting his white singlet wet. Giving you a bear hug…

Your brain short circuits as you try to come up with words, feeling your whole body heat with embarrassment. 

“W-what are you doing in here?” you manage to slur.

“Helping your ass,” he says roughly. “Can you stand?”

Fuck, good question. Can I stand??

“C-close your eyes first,” you demand. 

“Bit late to be feeling shy now don't you think?” he teases with a wink. 

“Just close ‘em!” you yell at him. 

He laughs before complying. 

You extricate yourself from his arms, turning off the shower, then navigate carefully around him to exit the cubicle. You grab a towel and cover yourself, making a mental note to grab a clean one later since this one was definitely dirty now. 

“Okay, open your eyes and get out, please.”

He turns to look at you.

“Don't think that's a good idea, bub.”

“And why is that?” you huff impatiently.

“What if you collapse in the shower again?” he says matter of factly.

“I've been having these things for a long time. I've managed to survive so far so don't stress about it.”

“It's different now though, isn't it? You've been having these for a long time, you said so yourself, and they're only getting worse instead of better.”

You sigh heavily in frustration. You hated that he was right. 

“So what exactly are you suggesting?” 

Your heart was beating like crazy. He better not suggest what you think he was going to suggest.

“I'm sure old Chuckie boy wouldn't mind lending you his shower chair for the night,” he smirked. 

You laughed out loud despite the tension in the room. He always managed to make you laugh. 

“Yeah, I'm just going to wake up an old man in the middle of the night to ask if I can borrow his shower chair,” you joked, lightly slapping him on the shoulder. 

He laughed along with you then you both shared a few moments of comfortable silence. Only for him to break it with-

“My other suggestion is to shower with me so I can make sure you don't faint and hurt yourself.”

You stared at him distrustfully.

“Hey, look, I'm not being a pervert, it's just the only solution I can think of on the fly,” he placates, hands raised as if to say I'm innocent and unarmed. 

“Right…”

You stopped to think for a second, your muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation. 

It made you especially uncomfortable that you didn't exactly have your full mental faculties about you. 

But Logan was a good friend. You'd fought beside him many times before and you saw that you could trust him. But… he was still a man. A man much bigger and stronger than you. 

“Can I trust you?” you asked falteringly. What a stupid idea to ask the opinion of someone fully in power over you. 

“I promise I won't do anything without you wanting it. This is entirely your choice.” 

You looked him in the eyes, trying to find a trace of falsehood in them. But you only saw honeyed eyes, dripping with conviction. The same conviction you'd seen many times before when he was protecting those he loved. 

You felt yourself feel a little calmer. 

“Okay… but you better not break your promise. Or I'll sick Charles and his shower chair on you.” 

“I won't. I just want to keep you safe,” he said in a low, serious voice. 

You felt a fluttering behind your ribs. Fuck… I'm about to shower with this incredibly attractive asshole.

“Okay… you get in first,” you said. 

“Yes, ma'am,” he said a little too cheerily. 

You turned around to give him privacy to undress. You heard the rustle of his clothes then a thump as he dropped them on the floor of your bathroom. 

Should've known he'd be a slob…

You heard the shower turn on and you braced yourself for what was to come next. 

You turned towards the shower, keeping your head down and eyes averted. You removed your towel and stepped into the shower, still not looking at Logan and ignoring his presence, which was hard to do in your little shower. Thankfully he was turned away respectfully.

You stood behind him, turned away from his body. You took your soap and began to lather it over yourself as you usually did when you showered. 

“Would you like a hand with your back?” Logan spoke up. 

You paused as you weighed up the question in your mind. 

“Sure,” you said quietly, trying to keep yourself calm. 

This is totally normal. We're just friends having a shower. Together. 

You turned your back and heard him applying soap to his hands. Slowly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he began to rub your back, starting with your shoulders. You felt yourself give an involuntary shiver.

“Are you cold? Do you need the water a bit hotter?” he asked you. 

“No, it's fine. The temperature is okay with you?” 

“Yeah, bub, just perfect.” 

His hands felt massive against your back. He massaged your neck for a few seconds before moving down your shoulder blades towards your middle back. 

“Did-did you want me to do your back too?” you asked, trying to hide how nervous you were. 

“Since you're offering, sure,” he said gruffly. You turned towards him at the same moment he turned away from you, unfortunately catching a glimpse of his insane fucking abs, but thankfully managing not to make eye contact. 

You soaped up your hands and began with his neck, trying not to notice how thick and muscular his traps were. 

God… this is hell but also heaven. 

You ran your hands across his ridiculously broad shoulders and down his middle back, avoiding going too low lest you caress his stupid, tight ass. 

“I'm going to wash my hair, okay?” you told him, unsure of why you were asking permission. 

“Don't know why you're asking my permission.” Fuck. You were being weird. “But I can do the same right?” he responded, holding in laughter. 

You felt your face go hot.

“D-do what you want,” you said petulantly. 

You took the shampoo bottle, squeezing what you needed for yourself before handing it to him over his shoulder, which he thankfully kept turned to you in respect. 

You both washed your hair in silence. You already felt a bit better. You dreamily thought of your bed as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. 

You then grabbed the conditioner and squeezed some into your hand. 

“Need the conditioner?” you asked Logan.

“What for?” he asked, confused. 

“For your hair, duh.”

“Nah, I'm good. Haven't had to use it so far in my life, won't start now. Need a hand with washing your hair?” 

You knew he was trying to be helpful. But it felt so, so wrong. Like overstepping your relationship as friends. But then again… would you ever get the chance again to have an incredibly sexy man wash your hair for you? 

“Sure,” you said stiffly.

Silence, then his hand moved around you to grab the bottle from you. 

“Ah-” you already had some conditioner in your hand. You were about to tell him but decided to keep quiet as he worked on your hair. 

His fingers… so thick and strong yet gentle through your hair, over your scalp. You couldn't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. 

It was over too soon and he stepped away from you again. You tipped your head to rinse your hair, giving your face a quick scrub with water while you were at it; fuck your skin routine, you were going straight to bed. 

“I'm going to step out first,” you informed him. 

He grunted in reply and you stepped from the shower, grabbing two clean towels from your bathroom cupboard. You covered yourself with one and half turned your body to Logan, gaze still averted from his direction. 

“Here ya go,” you tried to say cheerily, offering the towel to him.  

“Thanks,” he said and grabbed it from your hand. You quickly moved to the door. 

“Wait until I say you can come in,” you said before closing the door behind you. 

Fuuuuucccckkkkk.

This was not helping you to relax at all.

You dried yourself quickly and threw your pyjamas on. 

“I'm done!” you called through the door. 

He stepped out with his towel wrapped around his stupid, slutty waist. You could see his happy trail adorning his abs. His enormous pecs, his dog tags resting in the dip of his gorgeous chest. 

“Hey, bub, my eyes are up here,” he teases. 

You swallow thickly and glare at his stupid, smirking face.

“Have I ever told you I hate you?” you retort, only succeeding in making him laugh. 

“How are you feeling now?” he says softly, suddenly serious. 

“I'm… exhausted. I usually sleep a lot after an episode.” 

He nods in understanding. 

“You'll be okay if I leave?”

This gives you pause. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd say, “Please stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.” 

But you weren't honest with yourself. 

“Thanks for looking out for me, Logan. I really appreciate it and sorry for putting you out. I'll be okay. You can go to bed now if you want.” 

He looked at you in silence. He stepped towards you, so close that you had to look up to keep eye contact. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. Fuck he runs hot. 

“You mean it, right? You're okay to be alone?” 

You stared at him, a little bit dumbfounded. Was he able to read minds or something? 

“Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be in bed so I can't exactly fall,” you chuckled. 

He didn't laugh with you. Only watched you carefully. 

“Okay. I'll respect what you say you want,” he says carefully. 

Again, this is so out of character for him that you second guess yourself whether you're in reality or not. 

You watch as he turns to the bathroom and grabs his clothes from the floor then goes towards the door to the hall. 

“Hey-w-wait-y-you're not going out like that are you?” you stutter in disbelief.

He turns back to you. 

“What else am I going to do?” he asks incredulously. 

Clueless.

“Put your clothes back on,” you retort.

“Ew, you're a bit of a slob, aren't you? They're dirty and covered with blood and who knows what or who else.”

You deadpanned. 

“What if… what if you stayed here for the night?” you blurted out without thinking. You flinch at your own words.

Logan pauses with his hand on the door knob. 

“I don't exactly have my pyjamas here with me,” he says slowly. 

“I've already seen and touched you naked. What's the difference?” you hear yourself say.

What the fuck am I saying?

“I-I mean, surely I have something that can fit you,” you amend quickly. His face seems to go slack in surprise.

“Wow. You really want it, huh?” he smirks at you. 

You ignore the heat that overtakes your whole body. 

“N-never mind! Fuck off already,” you say sourly. 

“Hey, I'm just joking,” he laughs. “I can definitely stay if it helps you feel better.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself melt a little bit. 

“It… it would. Help me feel better, I mean.” 

Having him near you would help remind you that this is real, you justify. 

“Alright then,” he nods to you. “Some clothes would be great.” 

“Ah, sure, give me a second.” 

You quickly go to your wardrobe to locate the loosest pair of pants you own. He'll just have to sleep shirtless, there's no way you have a top that will fit over his broad shoulders. 

You find a dark grey pair of trackies and turn back to him. 

“Try these.”

“Thanks,” he says as he takes it from your hand.

As he moves back to the bathroom you jump into bed to wait. Your bed never felt so fucking good. 

You've barely settled under the covers when Logan reappears from the bathroom, his hair still wet and dripping down his neck. You do your best not to stare. 

He moves towards you and lifts the covers to slip into bed with you. 

This is just a sleepover, you tell yourself. Like when you have a friend over for the night.

Logan slots himself into your bed alongside you and you become suddenly aware of how small your double bed is. The frame creaks loudly from the weight of him and his Adamantium bones. 

“Comfy?” you ask.

He turns in the bed so he's facing you. A smile slowly makes its way to his face and you find you can't breathe for a second. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he murmurs. 

“Alright, sweet, g’night then,” you say quickly, turning away from him to still your beating heart. Fuck, I hope he can't hear my heart right now.

“Are you sure you're ready to sleep? Your heart is beating pretty fast,” he points out cooly. 

Mother fucker.

“So… you have heightened senses right? Kind of.. like a dog?” I'm not thinking straight, why am I trying to piss him off? 

“Thought you were going to sleep,” he grunted. The sound of his gravelly voice did something to you. But you ignored it. 

“It just kind of reminds me of those service dogs, y'know the ones that can sense when their owner is going to have a seizure? I mean, I know I don't have seizures exactly, but I guess it presents sort of like one.”

“What are you trying to say?” he asks gruffly. He doesn't like it when people compare him to dogs. You're just grateful you can't see the look on his face right now. 

“I'm just wondering how you can tell? What is it exactly that you're sensing? It's always interested me,” you say honestly. 

He grunts again and goes quiet before answering.

“I can smell it. Can't even explain what it actually smells like. But that's how I know, although it isn't always accurate.”

“That's really interesting.” And you mean it. It really is interesting… although the implications concerning his sense of smell have you a little bit paranoid… 

“So that's why I'm telling you to listen to me when I fucking tell you to stop with your powers. You could've killed yourself tonight,” he grinds out, anger in his voice. 

“Logan… you need to understand where I'm coming from. You all died tonight. Like literally, right before my very eyes, you were all dead. What do you expect me to do?” 

You feel tears pricking your eyes, the lump in your throat is choking you.

“I… I can't talk about this right now okay?” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Okay… okay, I'm sorry,” his voice softens. “Please, just get some sleep, okay? Guide dog’s orders.”

And just like that you're laughing again, feeling a tear running down your cheek to your pillow. You were so grateful to have him in your life. You were also grateful he couldn't see you crying right now. 

“Alright, g'night, puppy,” you tease.

“‘Night,” he says softly. 

A minute passes and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. You smile to yourself, knowing that you have your own personal “service animal” to keep you safe tonight.

[spnscripthunt-inactive]

The Supernatural Script Hunt came from humble origins, a handful of fans banding together to collect and preserve our fandom history, making as many scripts as possible accessible to fans worldwide. Since acquiring our first script over five years ago, and then branching out to involve so many fans supporting the work in the years since, it was always our intent to give it all back, and then some.

When we began this project, the fandom collectively had six scripts from five episodes and a single network outline. In the five years since we bought our first script to add to that collection, we are ending the project with a total of 163 scripts from 147 episodes, casting sides from 50+ episodes, 50+ call sheets, arenas from 18 episodes, and other related documents. A complete list of items in our collection is on the SupernaturalWiki, for a closer look, click here.

The time has come for us to offer everyone a final chance to own their very own priceless souvenir of the show and cast we all love so dearly. In doing so, we also want to honor the largest (hopefully!) legacy of our fandom: using our collective power for good. Which is why we're offering up some very special scripts (and a few other items!) in our collection in a raffle to benefit Undue Medical Debt.

Our initial goal was to raise at least $10,000 so we can erase at least one million dollars in medical debt.  We've met that goal, our stretch goal is to get to $20,000 so we can erase at least two million dollars in medical debt.

How Undue Medical Debt Works:

You make a donation. They use data analytics to pinpoint the debt of those most in need: households that earn less than 4x the federal poverty level or whose debts are 5% or more of annual income.

Undue Medical Debt buys medical debt at a steep discount. They buy debt in bundles, millions of dollars at a time at a fraction of the original cost. This means your donation relieves about 100x its value in medical debt.

Together we wipe out medical debt. People across the country receive letters that their debt has been erased. They have no tax consequences or penalties to consider. Just like that, they're free of medical debt.

For every $10 you donate to Undue Medical Debt, you will 1) be erasing about $1,000 in medical debt and 2) be able to enter our raffle to win one of the items listed below.

Our Campaign Page

Our Raffle Site

Donated by Eric Kripke:

'Pilot' - "Original pilot that got tossed out -- whole different story -- enjoy this alternative reality Sam and Dean." Signed by Eric Kripke, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and Samantha Smith.

2.22 'All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2' - Yellow Revisions. Signed by Eric Kripke, Jensen Ackles, and Jared Padalecki.

3.16 'No Rest for the Wicked' - Goldenrod Revisions. Signed by Eric Kripke, Jensen Ackles, and Jared Padalecki.

4.01 'Lazarus Rising' - Pink Revisions. Signed by Eric Kripke, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and Misha Collins.

4.22 'Lucifer Rising' - Production Draft. "My director's copy - rare! Enjoy!" Signed by Eric Kripke, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, and Rob Benedict.

5.01 'Sympathy for the Devil' - Pink Revisions. Signed by Eric Kripke, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, and Rob Benedict.

6.22 'The Man Who Knew Too Much' - Production Draft. Signed by Eric Kripke, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, and Mark Sheppard.

Donated by James Stoteraux and Chad Fiveash:

Gotham Knights - 'Pilot' - Double Yellow Revisions. Signed by Misha Collins, Oscar Morgan, Olivia Rose Keegan, Navia Robinson, Fallon Smythe, Tyler DiChiara, Anna Lore, Rahart Adams, Chad Fiveash, and James Stoteraux.

Gotham Knights - 1.13 'Night of the Owls' - Production Draft. Signed by Misha Collins, Oscar Morgan, Olivia Rose Keegan, Navia Robinson, Fallon Smythe, Tyler DiChiara, Anna Lore, Rahart Adams, Chad Fiveash, and James Stoteraux.

Donated by Natalie Abrams:

Gotham Knights - 1.11 'Daddy Issues' - signed by show creator/episode co-writer Natalie Abrams, director America Young, and Misha Collins (Harvey Dent/Two-Face). Two copies donated, two winners. Thank you @deanismybuddy (twitter) for making this happen.

Donated by Jennifer May Nickel:

Signed Gotham Knights costume sketches (8.5" x 11" prints), four winners.

1.08 Harvey Dent tux

Rebecca's 1.13 dress

Duela's 1.09 grenade costume

Carrie/Robin's super suit look

Donated by Robbie Thompson: 

The Winchesters - 1.01 'Pilot' - Final Shooting Script - signed by Robbie Thompson and Jensen Ackles.

The Winchesters - 1.13 'Hey, That's No Way to Say Goodbye' - signed by Robbie Thompson and Jensen Ackles.

Thank you to @SadieWit (twitter) and Gabe Garza for making this happen.

Scripts Not Donated by Creators:

3.15 'Time is on My Side' - Production Draft signed by Jim Beaver at Creation Tour: Burbank 2024; Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki at Jus in Bello 14; Steven Williams at Crossroads 8.

14.14 Ouroboros - Production Draft - donated by @_ninalynne_ (twitter).  

Gotham Knights - 'Pilot' - Pre-Production Draft signed by Misha Collins at Creation Tour: Burbank 2024.

Walker - 'Pilot Script' - signed by Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, and Richard Speight Jr. at Jus in Bello 14.

Walker: Independence - 'Pilot Script' - Revised Network Draft - signed by Jared Padalecki at Jus in Bello 14; Mark Sheppard at Crossroads 8.

The Winchesters - 'Pilot' - 4th Network Draft signed by Jensen Ackles at Creation Tour: Burbank 2024; Richard Speight Jr. and Rob Benedict at Jus in Bello 14; Jim Beaver and Alexander Calvert at Crossroads 8.

Audio/Visual:

Supernatural: The Complete Series Blu-ray - donated by @HanmeiCui (twitter)

Dick Jr. and the Volunteers' "Fistfights and Hug-Outs" CD - signed by Richard Speight Jr. at Jus in Bello 14, donated by @Julie_Fleming and @EmilieDK87 (twitter)

Rob Benedict "Leave The Light On" CD - signed by Rob Benedict at Jus in Bello 14, donated by @merenwen76AO3 (twitter).

"Saturday Night Special" CD - signed by Louden Swain at Creation Tour: New Jersey 2024.

Autographed Photos and Posters:

Crossroads 8 "Supernatural" cast poster (A3 size) signed by Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, Julian Richings, Alexander Calvert, Jim Beaver, Rob Benedict, Steven Williams, Corin Nemic, Todd Stashwick, and Cindy Sampson. Donated by @AilesduSoleil (twitter).

Crossroads 8 "The Boys" cast poster (A3) signed by Tomer Capone and Karen Fukuhara.

Autographed photos from Crossroads 8 donated by @AilesduSoleil, @Julie_Fleming, @PurpleNurpleSPN (twitter):

Rob Benedict, Alexander Calvert, Tomer Capone, Misha Collins, Karen Fukuhara, Corin Nemec, Cindy Sampson (multiple winners)

Books:

Hardcover edition of Good Omens - signed by Neil Gaiman and Mark Sheppard. Thank you to the staff at The Golden Notebook in Woodstock, NY for being extremely helpful and kind.

Hardcover edition of Death (2022) - written by Neil Gaiman, art by Mike Dringenberg, John Totleben, Mark Buckingham, and Chris Bachalo. Signed by Lisa Berry.

Family Don't End with Blood - signed by Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, and Jim Beaver, donated by @FangasmSPN (twitter).

There'll Be Peace When You are Done - signed by Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Alexander Calvert, and Sebastian Roche, donated by @FangasmSPN (twitter).

Supernatural 15 Seasons: The Crew Member's Souvenir - two copies, two winners. Donated by @HanmeiCui (twitter) and [anon].

Fan Arts and Crafts:

"To Be Continued" t-shirt made and donated by @shitannamakes (twitter), signed by Jensen Ackles at Creation Tour: Burbank 2024. 

The Winchesters canvas print (16 x 22.7 in) designed by BobbysIdjit (tumblr, Redbubble) and signed by Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Misha Collins, and Richard Speight Jr. Donated by Denim-wrapped Nightmares, a Supernatural Podcast.

Curse boxes made and donated by @TheGreenCooler (twitter):

6" x 4" x 4" - red and white

8.5" x 6" x 5" - brown and black

Supernatural and AKF themed decorative pillar candles made and donated by @TheGreenCooler (twitter): 

4x3 inch short decorative pillar candles set: "Sam and Dean initials"

5x3 inch decorative candle: #AlwaysKeepFighting "Good morning Starshine. You're still here today."

5x3 inch decorative candle: #AlwaysKeepFighting "Hopeful Daisy"

5x3 inch decorative candle: "Men of Letters"

5x3 inch decorative candle: "Carry On Wayward Son"

5x3 inch decorative candle: "We Are Home"

6 x 4 decorative candle: "Impala on a Hunt" (pic 1) (pic 2) (pic 3) 

Rare Actor-Specific Items

AFK pin designed by Phil Sgriccia in 2015 for Jared Padalecki, "only Jared had these pins unless he gave them to you" - donated by @slammtam (twitter)

Jared Padalecki autograph at Creation Austin, donated by @KLFSPNcons off her Gold badge (Row I).

Raffle closes on Sunday, June 30 at 11:59pm (EST). Winners will be drawn by a random number generator, we will submit the names to Undue Medical Debt's development staff to confirm the donations match the caps submitted to us on the Google Form, and we'll contact winners by Saturday, July 6 2024. Winners will have 72 hours to respond, and will be required to provide their physical mailing address and to cover the cost of shipping (for scripts it's currently $9.85 for priority mail insured inside the US, international rates and non-script rates to be determined as necessary). 

PLEASE NOTE: IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE AND WISH TO DONATE, PLEASE ENSURE YOU HAVE PRIOR AUTHORIZATION FROM CREDIT/ACCOUNT HOLDER.

As Castiel once told a patron of the Gas N Sip buying a lottery ticket, good luck!

Thank you to our con helpers, we never could have pulled this off without your help: abeautifulswan, AilesduSoleil, deanismybuddy, EmilieDK87, FangasmSPN, HanmeiCui, jennysun23, Julie_Fleming, KLFSPNcons, kreespa, kaurie_mac, marywinchstr, merenwen76AO3, MiaAW90, MysterioAmber, PurpleNurpleSPN, RMelton76, rowwyaboat, SDeeg13, shandataber, SuperWiki, zerbehunter

[sepublic]

Interesting that pop culture portrays Van Helsing as an experienced, seasoned vampire hunter, when it's pretty clear in the novel that this is his first go around with the whole thing, his first confirmation they actually exist, and in other words he's basically winging it and hasn't necessarily thrown a punch in his entire life (Which means he can’t just throw hands with Dracula, he needs research and backup to organize the perfect trap where they won’t be instantly killed). VH doesn’t always know what’s going on, he’s figuring things as he goes along; Like yeah he's HEARD of vampires, but it's never been anything prominent to him.

If anything, his past with vampires is probably similar to a lot of readers; Familiar with the concept, knows some of the details but not all of them, and definitely presumes them fake. He sees something going on with his patient and is like Haha damn that's just like a vampire, wouldn't it be crazy if... And then he slowly starts settling into conspiracy theory mode when more and more dots show up to conveniently connect, as he does the obligatory Protagonist Searching Stuff Up bit and realizes Mein Gott!!! It might be a vampire!!!

But then at the last second VH reminds himself, Now hold on, have I actually SEEN this vampire??? But it won't do anyone harm if I added some garlic flowers, right...? And then it just gradually escalates from there into full-on paranoia and dread that vampires exist and VH needs to desecrate the dead, and then he finally gets confirmation when he sees an Undead Lucy. What the fuck.

I think there's an argument to be made that Van Helsing was doubting himself just as much as Seward and the others initially did, if not more so, and he can’t even talk to anyone about it; So there’s an elation where you finally talk to others and realize it’s really happening, you’re not crazy.

This just ties into the theme of recording that which you did see, which is indisputable, because it’s evidence and proof. So you can be certain you aren't totally insane, and can distinguish facts from assumptions and theories if necessary; Especially when one needs to consider other explanations for the same symptoms. There’s a relief confirming what is and isn’t real to dispel self-doubt, like there was for Jonathan, who also suffered from Dracula’s gaslighting distorting his perception of reality.

I think all of this makes Van Helsing's actions and secrecy a lot more understandable when handling Lucy; If you hired a doctor and he suddenly started bringing up vampires, you might be inclined to think he's insane, doesn't know what he's talking about, and has read too many vampire stories and probably believes in 'alternative' medicine. Van Helsing still has an image and reputation to uphold here, and if it's gone, he can't actually be there to help Lucy if he turns out to be right.

That isn't to say he isn't without critique, especially in later portions of the novel, but you can kinda see where this underdog stance of "I'm right and the others around me are wrong" gets vindicated and thus develops into a bit of arrogance later down the line; Particularly, in presuming his disagreements with Mina to be no different than his secrecy with Seward and Mrs. Westenra.

In the end, VH could be described as a character who wonders if he's in the novel Dracula (compared to Jonathan who knows he's in a horror story of some kind but can't name the genre), but then has to remind himself this is reality... If this is a story, it’s probably just some medical drama. And when VH does accept he's in the novel Dracula, he assumes his character development and the lessons he learns are straightforward.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

LOVE YEW

on ao3 HERE

.

“Here!”

Stiles slams something down on the coffee table to the left of Derek's (Stiles's) laptop.

Derek is searching online, only a little psychotically, in the hope of finding a store that sells these very specific organic coffee beans he tried in a hipster coffee house recently. Derek isn't a hipster—he isn't—he just likes nice coffee, is all. Really, he should have asked the barista to find out not just the brand name but their supplier's address too because this is driving him insane. Maybe he is insane? More likely just incredibly shit at the internet, but he thinks he'd prefer to plead insanity if challenged.

Derek unknits his eyebrows and looks down at… a green thing. It's sort of feather shaped and has many spindles with bronzed edges.

It's a leaf.

His eyebrows knit themselves back together as he blinks down at the thing a couple of times.

“It's a leaf,” he says, because he doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

Then he looks up—and back and forth at Stiles who is now pacing the apartment and alternating between clicking his fingers and flicking his thumbs and shaking his arms out at the sides of his body; his stimming can get pretty extra when he's anxious.

Derek's frown deepens with immediate concern. He must've really been deep in it with the infuriating Google searching to not have noticed the smell of Stiles's distress when his mate first arrived home.

“Hey, what's—”

“Yes, Derek, it's a leaf. It is a leaf that I brought all the way home. For you. From the cemetery.”

He's still pacing.

“Okay, well do you want to tell me—“

“It's an Apology Leaf. Obviously.”

Obviously.

“And, Derek, do not laugh, because—"

“I won't but could you just—“

“—this isn't funny. I'm ridiculous, I know, and I know that that's funny. But this? This is decidedly deeply unfunny, alright? This is totally not at all funny, Derek. It's like, a thing without one tiny ounce of humour in it, as in not the slightest bit funny in a gazillion sombre years. Do you hear me?” He inhales deeply, holds the breath, then blows it out harshly via puffed-out cheeks as he clicks and flails some more.

Derek hears Stiles and is of course prepared to wait for him to explain whatever this is, because Derek would wait for Stiles until the end of time, if he had to. Although that's not likely a thing to happen in any reality as this is Stiles who can't go for longer than fifteen seconds without talking. But still, Derek thinks it's the sentiment that counts. 

“You, Derek Hale, are good, and someone as good as you deserves somebody far, far better than a ratbag like me. Hence the leaf,” Stiles now tells him in a rush of even more confusing words, his chemo-signals tinged with shame for some worrying reason Derek is yet to discern.

Stiles glances over anxiously from his place of animated, mysterious penance—and then looks away again just as quickly while still trying to wear footprints into the recently painted varnish on the wooden floor of their new apartment.

Derek is clueless as to the cause of Stiles's meltdown, but neither things are a first. Stiles struggles sometimes—just like Derek does, who has plenty of his own outbursts (albeit more moody than vocal) that Stiles has to Private Dick his way through.

Derek is also trying his best not to worry too much about thinking that this is somehow his fault, so now sets his mind on attempting to marry these seemingly unrelated things in his head.

He thinks about the facts he's been presented with:

What is, at an educated guess, a Pacific Yew leaf.

and

Stiles's rather unhinged and self-deprecating dig at himself-slash-compliment for Derek.

...Yeah, no, he's not getting better at this game any time soon. 

“Uh,” he says helpfully, and Stiles rolls his eyes in that Do I really have to do everything myself around here? way of his which, rude.

Good job Derek loves the kook.

“It was just sitting there, on top of my mom's gravestone when I got there,” Stiles says quietly, incredulously, gesturing at the innocuous leaf.

Then he's off again with the pacing.

“And I knew, straight away, I knew,” he says, getting louder again and laughing in this accusatory sort of way, pointing somewhere into the ether, eyes manic.

Derek scratches his nose. He hopes he will soon know, too, because honestly, he's kind of blindfolded in the dark here.

“She was obviously telling me what a dipshit I was! What a douche I am! A massive ass-hat! Total loser!”

“I mean, that's mostly fair, but maybe total loser is a little strong.” Derek will often speak Stiles's language when Stiles is freaking out, using humour to try and ground him. 

Stiles carries on as if Derek hadn’t said anything.

“And I was like, Come on, mom, give me a break, will you? and she was like Seriously, Mischief? You really wouldn't let the special person in your life, your special little guy—”

“You can just say boyfriend, Stiles.”

“—come with you to the cemetery to visit me? Like, as if with that leaf she was reminding me that you are the one person who actually gets this shit, which, I do know. Of fucking course I know. And then—get this—I swear to God, Derek, I felt her literally slapping me upside the head! No fucking word of a lie, man. Like, thousands wouldn't believe me. Millions. They'd say that it must have been the wind or my incredibly vivid imagination. But I know, Der. I know that it was her,” Stiles continues with the confession without stopping for breath.

Derek has thought it before and he'll think it again: the kid's lung capacity is seriously impressive.

“And I also know that I totally should've said yes when you asked me if I wanted you to come with me to the cemetery this morning. Because the thing is, I did want you to. I really, really did. But I just… I just…”

Stiles starts slapping himself on the forehead with both his hands and Derek has had enough of that already. He gets up off the sofa and walks over to Stiles, catching those slim wrists in his grip, gentle yet firm.

“Please don't,” Derek says, imploring Stiles to stop. Derek can understand frustration, but can't stand Stiles hurting himself.

Stiles deflates a little. He then takes a step towards Derek and leans in, resting his forehead against Derek's, their noses lining up like penguins.

“I just—I should have said yes to you when you asked because I honestly, truthfully wanted you there. It's just that I've only ever been there with my Dad. And even then, not as many times as you might think. Not even Scotty has been there with me. It's just a place—it's usually something I do alone. You know?” Stiles' front teeth worry at his pretty lip. 

And yes, Derek does know.

So he says, “Because you feel guilt, right? Even though there isn't a thing in this universe or any other that you should feel guilty about.”

Guilt just for being alive. 

Slightly cross-eyed with the proximity and angle, Stiles looks at Derek in a way that says he knows just how much Derek knows about this stuff.

“Yeah. Yes, exactly. And I guess I didn't know how to be that with somebody else around.”

“But Stiles, that's completely—”

“No, Der. It isn't, actually. Because you're not just somebody else. It's you. And I'm in love with you.” Stiles finally takes a breath while Derek's heart is busy swelling to twice it's size. He will never tire of hearing Stiles Stilinski say those words to him. “And I absolutely should've trusted in that. In us.”

It is, of course, completely fine that Stiles went to the cemetery alone to visit his mother, but Derek also gets where the kid is coming from. He too takes a breath, now, a big one, because this kind of stuff doesn't come as easily for him as it does Stiles.

He swallows his nerves and pushes on.

“I love you, Stiles. And it's alright that we're not perfect. Neither of us are. Us—you and me—we're both just… Finding our way.”

After a moment, Stiles adds, “Together.”

They smile at each other like huge dorks.

“Yeah.” Derek breathes, and his heart might just burst.

Derek scents Stiles, and Stiles breathes deeply too, now. “Thanks,” he says, then Derek kisses him, just as deep and for a long while, because it's his favourite thing to do in the whole damn world.

Eventually Derek pulls back, runs a thumb over Stiles's mouth and says, “You know what?”

Stiles's brow lifts inquisitively.

Derek lets go of Stiles's wrist and takes his hand instead, leading him back to the sofa and sitting them both down squarely by the coffee table where he had been sat fruitlessly Googling not so long ago.

“I believe you,” Derek says.

Stiles frowns. “Huh?” It's his turn to be confused.

“Millions wouldn't, but I believe you, Stiles. About your mom.”

He reaches across and picks up the Apology Leaf, cradling it for a brief moment in his palm before nudging at Stiles's hand and urging him to take it, which he does.

Derek then grabs the laptop, side-eyeing his previous Google search—WHO NEAR ME SELLS PHOENIX ROAST ORGANIC COFFEE BEANS THAT TASTE LIKE HOME—and forcing himself not to get instantly sucked back into that particularly vexing nightmare, while also trying his best to angle the screen away from Stiles who, if he saw, would fall off the sofa laughing at Derek's admittedly pathetic research skills.

Not everybody is a… Technophile? Cyberpunk? Derek has no fucking clue about any of this shit.

With Stiles now passing comment on the aesthetic qualities of the Apology Leaf, Derek uses both index fingers to tap out the words of the thing he wants to look up, taking no notice of Stiles who is trying his annoying not-very-best to smirk at Derek's sorry efforts in Derek's periphery. Clicking through a few different links, this time Derek manages to find what he's after without any trouble, amazingly. He then hands the laptop over to Stiles, who carefully places the leaf down on the arm of the sofa beside him before fully taking the computer from Derek. 

Stiles purses those pretty lips of his as he scans the information on screen, squinting a little.

“Uh, well yeah. It's like you said, Der; It's a leaf. From a Yew, according to this.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Your mother's ghost is infinitely more clever than you.” Stiles's squint deepens further. “Stiles, she is absolutely spot on about this. Just—scroll down the page a bit, dumbass,” and he ducks his head and smiles, seeing as accusing Stiles of Internet-related Dumbassery is really fucking funny because, irony. 

Stiles tuts but does as he's told.

Derek gives him a minute to read the passage on the website he found. It says:

The Yew tree can live for many, many years. It has deep connections with magic and the universe. It was regarded as the protector of the soul by the ancient Greeks. You’ll find this tree planted at many burial sites throughout the world as it’s recognized as a guardian of the dead.

It is believed that Odin (from the Nordic legend) hung himself from the Yew for nine days and nights. It’s symbolic of its everlasting and regenerative properties and is often associated with transformation and change after a difficult time. The Celtic tradition honours the Yew tree for symbolising death and rebirth.

Stiles is smiling this gorgeous, open smile by the time he's finished reading, and Derek makes an unrealistic wish to be able to keep it there forever.

“So, you were right,” Derek says, “when you said that she knew. You were just a little mixed up about what, is all.” Derek takes another deep breath. “What your mom knows is that you got the chance to begin again, Stiles. After all the shit we went through, you actually got to start over. With somebody who will absolutely protect your soul with their life.”

Stiles suddenly blinks furiously, like somebody just threw salt in his eyes.

“And you knew it, that she knew... something,” Derek smiles back, lovingly, before that smile turns a little wry. “It's just that you were kind of—now, how should I put this…?”

“No. Do not do it!” Stiles shouts—instantly catching on because he'd easily be the brightest bulb in any box—and he's pointing again, at Derek this time. “Puns are my stupid thing, you charlatan, and I can and will sue!” he warns, outraged yet smiling again as he wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“—barking up the wrong tree,” Derek finishes, his smile now positively wolfish.

Stiles shakes his head and narrows his eyes, but he's chuckling, too as he says, “You do remember that it's you who's the canine in this relationship, right, 'wolf? If anybody's going to be making barking sounds, it's you.”

“Speciesist,” Derek quips.

Stiles pokes his tongue out. Then he's quiet for a few seconds (but definitely no more than fifteen).

“You know, I really was wrong when I said you deserve better than me. We actually absolutely deserve each other, Hale. Because it turns out we are both humongous assholes.”

After a moment, Derek grins more.

“Well, I would have answered that with I love my asshole, but you had to go and use the word humongous, and there's no way I would say that about my asshole—even though I would have technically been talking about you when I said it, seeing as it's actually you that is my favourite asshole.” And he pulls a rare, goofy face, just for Stiles, who laps it up. “Also, thinking about it, I would also have to say that loving my actual asshole is, in fact," he points at Stiles, “your job.” 

Stiles dramatically slaps a hand over Derek's mouth.

“Oh my God, Derek, stop! My ghostly mother could be listening in to us right now! Jeez, dude, have a little decorum, won't you?!” And if Stiles saying that isn't ironic, Derek really doesn’t know what is.

“Sorry, mom!” 

Grinning even more, Derek pushes Stiles's hand away from his face.

“Hey, wanna know the coolest thing?” he asks.

“Why in the name of anything sacred did you bother posing that as a question, Der? Like, when would I ever say no to that?”

Derek leans over and kisses Stiles again, soft and languid this time. The boy's lips are dry and warm and he tastes just like autumn.

Stiles hums and smiles into Derek's mouth as if he really, truly does love Derek. 

After another glorious moment, Derek pulls back, looks at Stiles and says, “Yew trees aren't even native to this part of California.”

.

for @greyhavenisback my beloved <3 sorry i'm a dipshit, douche, massive ass-hat and a total loser, sometimes xp

(i got the info on tree symbolism HERE btw)

[yeet-noir]

Wait people actually believe Gabriel was redeemed in the end? He manipulated people up to his dying breath and wished to be seen as a hero. I know the ending seemed strange, but it definitely did so purposefully. This was a set up for the conflict next season not a wrap up of his arc.

I get the initial shock, but this show never held back on the abusive nature of Gabriel. In season 5 alone the total shift of Gabriel was idgaf about my son’s happiness and being mad at his lack of control he has on him. The last thing he did was control Adrien’s perspective of him. He went from wanting to be with his wife to being completely power hungry. His power hunger lead to Gimmi granting his desires.

And if that still isn’t enough to comfort people just remember that every season ends with a set up for the conflict that will follow in the next season:

Season 1 finale introduced Lila as an antagonist interested in the Miraculous and Marinette’s personal life which lead to Lila’s arc start which more so carried out in later seasons.

Season 2 finale introduced Mayura and Ladybug, Chat Noir the other heroes had their first epic fight beyond the scope of villain of the week. This lead to the introduction of sentimonsters and Mayura’s arc which heavily carried out in season 3.

Season 3 finale was another epic fight, but this time against Hawkmoth and Mayura. Master Fu’s identity becomes compromised leading to him passing down his guardianship to Marinette. This introduced Marinette’s guardian arc and season 4 heavily focused on her struggles with being one and maintaining peace with Chat Noir. This season also ended with both the love square “moving on” from one another which in turn caused season 4 to focus on their alternative ships.

Season 4 finale ended with Ladybug loosing the miraculous after being swindled by Felix. Felix offering a trade off with Gabriel for the Peacock miraculous. We literally ended with Ladybug having a mental breakdown and Chat Noir comforting her. This introduced the Monarch arc. Season 5 dealt with the consequences of this mistake.

So what I am trying to say each season finale ends with something that makes you wonder what will happen next. It never ends with a final conclusion only introduction to the next big arc. Seeing a weird reality where Gabriel is remembered as a hero despite us seeing him as villainous as ever to the very end isn’t his conclusion it’s a new arc.

[female-hysterics]

Stormkobra-5 asked:

sets food down carefully* Fuck or die scenario, you say?!?!

Okay, picture THIS!!!

You and Steven have been been crushing on each other for MONTHS, okay??? And neither of you have made a move yet because you’re both Shy As Fuck™️ or smth, and you end up trapped in some ancient Greek tomb on a mission— my nerd brain is thinking of stories where stuff like this actually happened in some myths I can’t remember which ones atm but— after decoding the inscriptions on the temple that state the victims must either consummate OR get crushed by a ceiling of spikes that descends if they don’t within like an hour or two or smth 🙂🙂🙂 Indiana Jones style traps I guess XD

IDK I haven’t thought of any actual scenarios tbh just the PORN—

Alternatively, I offer you Steven trying an aphrodisiac and he turns into a total dom, and I’ll leave your imagination to run wild 😈😈😈

Oh jeez... 🥵 I honestly don't know which one I like better.....🥴

Dom Steven has my heart SO

Steven taking the aphrodisiac innocently, not realizing what it is, and by the time you do realize what it is he is gone. His eyes are both soft with adoration and burning with pure lust while his hands effortlessly strip you of your panties and yank your shirt and bra down enough to free your breasts.

"I just have to feel you, love. Let me just come inside your tight little cunt, take the edge off, yeah?, and then I'll fuck your throat like a good girl," he all but growls in your ear while bending you over his desk, sending a small tower of his books toppling over, and your head is spinning at his words and you are positively dripping for him.

He does exactly that, fucking you deep and hard until you are seeing stars until he spills inside you with a hurt sound deep in his chest, and then you are on your knees with his hands fisted in your hair and his cock buried in your throat while you drool and choke and moan his name. Steven seems to twist you in every position possible, even some that leave you flushing in embarrassment, but he is ravenous for you. His touch desperate, words filthy as he grunts them into your flesh, and you can't help but notice how hot his skin is. How his hands tremble against you, how his eyes are glazed, and this heart is fluttering like a hummingbird in his chest. You are worried for him, but with each orgasm he drags from you your brain become more and more fried.

Everything eventually becomes a blur at one point and you are lost in a sea of heat and euphoria. When you come back to reality you are a sticky naked mess, body limp and laying sideways on the destroyed bed with Steven curled up behind you, and you dimly realize that he was still holding himself inside you. His breathing was even, skin cooled down to a more reasonable temperature, and his heartbeat is a strong steady beat.

"Was a bit rough, wasn't I?" He suddenly whispered against your shoulder and your throat is raw as you try to croak out a response.

You feel him twitch inside you and then he slowly starts to roll his hips in slow sensual waves that make your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves up from where it was resting on your breast and curls around your throat gently, tilting your head back until you could pant against his open mouth, and you didn't even have the energy to grasp at his arms as his hips continued to snap against you deep and slow. He groaned against your lips.

"A little longer, love. Let me fill you just a little longer."

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

heyy, at first I wanted to say I love your works so much! You're so talented with your writing...

Anyway could you write something like G!PDonna x maid reader where y/n was a girl from the village who ran away but got lost and Donna saved her, y/n started working for her for free just to have a place to live and gradually they got closer until Donna realized that she was so in love with her And she starts to be very possessive, but she doesn't show it because they still are not dating and one day Some young vampire comes to visit to pick up something and starts flirting and Donna goes crazy.

They end up in a big fight and Donna ping y/n against a wall and feelings will be revealed....maybe some vanilla smut at the end...

Thanks! And also sorry for my English...i'm still learning<3

Yess!!!! Thank you for you kindness and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))))

To be her maid

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, possessive Donna

Word count: 8,793

Summary: To leave and die, to stay and love, what a decision...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Your parents were right: no one could ever leave the village.

Wandering through the forest was always a risk, getting lost in that tangle of trees and snow would be easy even for the bravest of explorers.

But you were not brave, nor an explorer. You were just a villager, an ordinary girl who lost everything, who had no reason to stay in a place like that. Your family was gone, the Black Gods, who Mother Miranda defended, had abandoned you.

With nothing to fight for but your own life, with nothing to thank the Gods for, your only way out was the most risky: escape.

You didn't know what leaving that sinister village could bring you, what a girl like you could do in an unknown world. But, finding out, was much better than waiting for the darkness to consume you.

A small backpack and a desire to escape was your only luggage. Not even your old home had had mercy on you. The outside world offered itself to you as an alternative you couldn’t refuse, or rather, as your only alternative.

A few more hours of walking, and you would be free.

But your illusions outweighed reality, your desire to live outside that darkness eclipsed your situation. You couldn't escape, and deep down, you knew it. Turning around wasn't an option, guiding yourself by the dark lights of the village would only bring you more suffering, you had to continue.

Some growls behind the bushes made you stop and look around. It could be a dog, a forest vermin, something totally harmless. You swallowed as your eyes danced through the forest, looking for a different pattern in the movements of the branches, something that would tell you where those growls were coming from. Everything seemed so calm that it could only be that calm before the storm.

“Calm down, (Y/N), it's just the wind,” you whispered, forcing your legs to walk again. Your reassuring words wouldn’t take long to lose their effect.

One step, two, three... Footsteps in the snow that sounded closer and closer petrified your body again.

“Okay,” you whispered again, taking a map out of your pocket, one that indicated the path to freedom beyond the domain of the dark deities, of Mother Miranda, of the Lords...

The snow made it difficult for you to orient yourself, but your movements resumed automatically, moving away from the noise and deviating from the path. The faster you walked, the faster those footsteps in the snow seemed. Reality was stalking you, although you refused to believe it.

A furious roar diverted your gaze from the bushes. It was not a man, nor a wolf, it was a monster. One of those chosen by Mother Miranda to protect the village, to protect your insignificant lives, stood before you with a bloodthirsty gaze.

Lycan, that was its name, the name the Gods gave to that poor villager whose blind faith drove him to become a beast.

You breathed heavily, but fear made you back away. Those bloody eyes stared at you as the cold steam came out of its jaws. You didn't want to go back, but you had to find an alternative route.

Behind you, more monstrous creatures waited to devour you, to punish you for your audacity. They only growled, watching you, waiting for the best moment to attack you.

Your voice dried up and your body trembled with terror. You had nothing to fight for, but many reasons to live, to not let fear consume you, to flee, to escape, to earn that freedom.

With your eyes you looked for a corner, a gap in the bushes that you approached slowly. The growls of the beasts confirmed their displeasure, and they were the signal you needed to start running.

You fled without a destination, unable to look back.

Your strength weakened after a short time, they didn’t get tired of chasing you. You seemed safe, but you still heard their roars. After taking a breath, you continued running forward, until the path became rocky and then, nonexistent.

Your feet found no ground to support them and your body fell into the void. You rolled down a steep slope, covering your head. No, you couldn't end up like this.

With a thud, you fell to the ground. The creatures roared, but apparently, they couldn't see you.

“Oh...” you lamented, getting up from the penetrating cold of the snow, looking around. “I think I have lost them...” you whispered, scanning the clearing with your gaze. There was only an old tree surrounded by rock walls.

Not managing to recognize the place, you took out the map again, looking for something similar. You didn't find it, you were lost.

“What is this?” you asked, approaching an object hanging from the tree, something that looked like a hanged person. Of course, it wasn't, it was just an old doll. “A doll?”

 Before your reasoning could begin to draw conclusions, a cloud of snow came down the wall you fell down. You hadn't lost them. The lycans would never stop until they got their prey.

With no time to react, you ran again, the roars were getting closer. In front of you there was only one way out: an old wooden bridge. You couldn't even stop to take a look at the map, even though you were convinced you had seen that bridge somewhere.

It didn't matter anymore. The wolves were chasing you even through that unstable wood. The other side was anything but a safe place. Not even the heights or the instability seemed to those beasts to want to stop.

Your clumsiness caused you to stumble again, falling to the ground. You felt claws pulling at your leg, the satisfied growls of those beasts dragging you into their jaws. (Y/N) had met her end.

“No!” you screamed desperately, kicking that lycan in a last attempt to save yourself, one that you knew was useless. “No, no, no!”

You could already feel the breath of that monster, that anxious panting to devour your flesh but, suddenly, your leg was released with a gasp of pain.

You opened your eyes to check what had happened. The four creatures that were chasing you had moved away, looking at you with impossible, terrified eyes. Agonizing cries came from their jaws as they slowly retreated across the bridge.

“What…?” you asked in a sigh, crawling backwards through the snow, watching how suddenly the monsters seemed to fear you. Fear a villager? No, it couldn't be possible.

The beasts growled again, retreating faster, more frightened. At your side you saw a black shadow, one that passed by you without paying attention, that stood at the end of the bridge, looking at the lycans.

A black dress, a black veil, a stoic figure standing before you. It took your frightened head a while to understand, but not long enough to not be able to react.

There was only one person, one woman who could fit those characteristics. The lycans were not the most dangerous thing in that place. In front of you, with her back turned, was one of the Lords, the youngest, surely the most feared: the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

The beasts retreated even further, fleeing in terror from that imposing presence. They feared her, those beasts feared her, and so did you.

Since it seemed that the lady in black had ignored your presence, you decided to take advantage of the opportunity to retrieve your backpack from the snow and back away slowly, without attracting attention.

“That's it, that's it! Get out of there, you rude mutts!” a shrill voice made you shrink in place, but you couldn't stop, you had to get out of there as soon as possible. “And don't come back! Donna, Donna, what are the lycans doing here?”

The lady simply shrugged, emitting what seemed like a sigh. Unintentionally, you had stopped in your attempt to run away and when you realized, it was too late.

“Hey, hey! You!”  The lady turned to your position and that sinister puppet pointed at you effusively.

You shook your head, finally reacting, standing up and running away again clumsily.

“Hey! Where do you think you're going, stupid?”  the doll shrieked while you looked at it terrified.

Fear made you do something stupid, made you look back, at that woman in black instead of at the path ahead of you. The worst mistake of your life.

Your body collided painfully with a tree, causing you to get seriously dizzy and fall to the ground.

“Ow…” you complained, looking at the cloudy sky, your head throbbing in pain and slow steps in the snow getting closer and closer.

That dark figure came closer, looking at you from above. She didn't say anything, she didn't do anything. She just watched you.

“Hey, stupid! Were you trying to go through the tree with that big head of yours?” the doll said, putting itself in your range of vision, harassing you with that sinister look.

You turned around scared, leaning your back against the tree, running as far away as possible from those two dark figures.

The doll, whose name was Angie, returned to the arms of its owner with a comical movement, looking at her curiously, and then at you, repeating that gesture several times.

“What are you doing in my territory?” the doll spoke again, but with a much deeper, much darker voice.

You were terrified, you couldn't move and the words didn't seem to want to come out of your mouth.

“What are you doing in my territory!?” the puppet shouted again, without losing that different darkness in its voice. It was the lady who spoke, you had no doubt.

“I... I...” you murmured, hurt and scared, raising your knees to your chest, like a protective shield that you knew didn't exist.

“Don't you know what happens to stupid little girls who dare to come here?” Angie said again, with that voice that wasn't Angie's, while the lady bent down to look at you more closely.

“Y-Yes I do, my lady,” you were able to say, looking away from that black veil, from that dark figure, the figure of death itself.

“Oh, so you know…” Angie murmured, as the woman stood up again. “Then you must be stupid.”

You shook your head, closing your eyes, awaiting a fate even worse than death.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked again, in a darker tone. “Answer!”

“Lady Beneviento,” you said in a small voice, lowering your head, burying it between your legs. “Please have mercy on me.”

“What are you doing here? Speak!” she shrieked, enraged by your lack of communication, one that it was due to the fear you felt.

“I didn't want to come here, my lady… I…” you sobbed, joining your hands to beg for forgiveness. “I, I, I was being chased by some lycans and I ran, I fell and… I didn't know I was in your territory, I swear.”

“Did you get lost?” she asked, in a confused tone. “Are you lost?”

“Y-yes…” you sighed. “I fell down a hill and ended up here… I didn't know where I was, I was just, I was just trying to escape and…”

“Why were the lycans chasing you?” she asked in a calmer tone, without letting the doll go from her arms.

“I-I don't know, my lady,” you said uncertainly, knowing that it was not possible to deceive her.

“Perché menti?” a different voice asked, hoarse, a whisper coming from that black veil. You opened your eyes and shook your head again, kneeling on the ground.

“I didn't understand you, my lady, but please. Don’t, don't kill me... Please...” you begged with a sob, clasping your hands tightly together.

“Mm,” the lady murmured, looking curiously at the doll. “What do you think, Angie?”

“That she's stupid!” the doll shrieked, this time, with her real voice. “She's lost because she's a fool.”

“Please...” you sobbed again, trying not to open your eyes.

“Get up,” the doll ordered you, again with that dark voice. “Get up!” she shrieked, when she saw that her words had no effect on you. “You're coming with me.”

Unwillingly, with your whole body shaking, you obeyed.

You followed the lady through the forest until you reached a small clearing, one where you were forced to go up in an elevator, in absolute silence. Once up there, the vision in front of you made you shudder. A beautiful waterfall gently ran down a cliff, guarding an old mansion, one you had seen before, the Beneviento House.

“Come in,” that dangerous woman whispered, not needing her doll to talk to you, pushing you roughly inside that dark house. “Come on, move,” she insisted, seeing how your body seemed to want to stick to the dusty wooden floor.

You were so scared that you didn’t even bother to scan the house with your gaze. You simply sat down on the indicated sofa while the lady did the same, in front of you.

“Now, silly girl, we’re going to have a conversation,” Angie explained, in that shrill tone. “My Donna is going to ask you some questions and you are going to answer them, is that clear?”

You shifted on the sofa, nodding cowardly, trying not to look up.

“And don't try to lie, stupid, stupid... We'll know,” the doll threatened, leaning on a small coffee table and pointing at you in an unpleasant manner.

“What will happen to me if I lie?” you asked nervously, looking for somewhere to hide, somewhere to escape.

Neither the lady nor the doll answered directly, but rather let the silence enhance the tension of that conversation.

“You don't want to know, fool,” Angie sang, getting down from the table when the lady gestured towards her, directing the doll to her lap.

You lowered your gaze again.

“First question: what were you doing in my territory?” the doll asked, with that strange distorted voice again.

You weren't sure whether to look at the doll, or on the contrary, look for the hidden eyes of Lady Beneviento. Either option seemed dangerous.

“I've already told you,” you said, knowing that at least in that, you could be honest. “I was being chased by lycans, I tripped over a cliff and fell.”

“Mm,” the murmur came from the black veil. “Why were the lycans chasing you?” she asked, again, through her doll.

“Because…” you stammered. That was a dangerous question, too dangerous. “Because…”

“Stop stammering and answer me,” the lady growled, in her own voice.

“It's okay,” you finally said. After all, there was nothing that could save you. “I tried to leave the village.”

“Leave the village? Perché?” the woman in black asked, not needing the doll. Maybe she was just as nervous as you, although it seemed unlikely.

“Per, Per…” you repeated confused, scratching the back of your neck. “Sorry?”

“Why, you fool? Oh, Donna, just kill her, she's even dumber than she seems,” the doll protested, moving from her lap and walking towards you.

“Because…” you said, letting your nerves go aside, preventing the lie from showing through your words. No, there was no need to lie anymore. You were in the house of death. “I had nothing left, my lady.”

“Explain yourself,” she murmured, crossing her arms, ignoring the tugs the doll was giving on her black dress.

“My, my parents died three years ago and…” you began to explain, somehow, a little more calmly. If you didn't lie, you would be safe. “They, they were devotees of the Black Gods, but they never listened to their prayers.”

“Continue,” Lady Beneviento insisted, with a clearer, more understandable tone.

“We lost our crops, the animals died of hunger, my mother got sick and... My, my father couldn't bear it,” you explained, feeling a shiver from those bad memories.

“But you're still here,” she corrected, with an impatient, melodic voice, just like those strange words.

You shook your head, sighing, looking at the grey sky through the window.

“A storm destroyed my house a week ago. I no longer have a family, a home, or anything,”  you said sighing, remembering out loud your miseries, what led you to risk yourself, and escape.

The lady nodded with disinterest. At the moment, nothing you said seemed like a lie to her.

“Is that all?” she asked, after another tense moment of silence.

“Is that all? I think that's enough reason to want to get out of here,” you answered, annoyed by that insinuation.

“Enough reason to want to die?” she asked again, with a haughty tone, leaning slightly towards you.

“I don't want to die, my lady, I just want to get out of this place,” you said with a softer voice, repressing any impulse to scream, to protest at that apparent incomprehension.

“Let me tell you something, you unfortunate girl...” Beneviento murmured, getting up from the chair with that same dark elegance. “Getting out of here only means dying.”

“What else could I do?” you asked with a frown, with anger beginning to run through your veins.

“I don't know. Maybe instead of complaining, you could have looked for a solution,” the woman in black rebuked you, with that same hoarse, cocky tone, one typical of what she was, a Lord.

“A solution? Excuse me, my lady, but I think you haven’t understood my situation,” you said nervously.

“Mm, a girl like you…” she sighed, getting closer, with a slow step. “Do you know how to clean?”

“Yes,” you answered confused, blinking rapidly.

“Cook?”

“Yes, more or less,” you said with your voice getting weaker and weaker.

“Mm, then… Why don't you look for work instead of throwing yourself to your death? The castle always needs maids,” the lady asked, with a tone that seemed to hide some contempt for your sorrows.

“I don't like the castle, my lady,” you said, lowering your gaze, moving your legs nervously.

No, you didn't want to end up there, you didn't want to end up serving that lady in white, you didn't want your fate to be the same as your friends, some who, once they entered that place, would never return.

A sound like laughter escaped from the lady in black as she shook her head.

“Oh… But the castle sure likes you,” Angie commented, absent until that moment.

“Mm, okay, silly girl…” the woman in black sighed. “I'm tired of hearing you talk…”

“Can I go, my lady?” you asked, standing up hastily, not believing that you could get out of that place alive.

“Yes, go away, but I warn you…” she hissed. “If you try to escape from the village, you will die. So I recommend that you return to your ruined cabin. This time I won’t be there to protect you.”

Those last words entered your mind, unlocking a truth that you were not yet aware of.

You were about to die, those beasts had already caught you. They were ready to devour you. But they didn’t, Donna Beneviento appeared and the monsters fled. You thought she had barely noticed your presence, but you were wrong. Whether you wanted to or not, that woman had saved you from dying in a horrible way, she had saved your life.

“My lady,” you said thoughtfully, already walking towards the door, turning around slowly. “I haven’t thanked you.”

“Mm? Cosa?” she asked, crossing her arms again, moving a leg impatiently.

“Thank you, my lady,” you stammered, relaxing your expression. “You saved my life.”

A mocking laugh came from the doll, who tilted her head to mock you. The lady didn’t move, she simply nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Well, anyone can make a mistake,” she murmured, looking away. You couldn’t help but smile at those words. “Go away, you are disturbing me.”

You nodded, biting your lip and turning around again. The doll maker's words bounced around in your mind.

Yes, she was right, she didn’t have to lie to you, dissuade you from your attempt to escape. She only warned you of the danger you would have by doing so, why would she bother to warn you? What did Lady Beneviento care about the life of a stupid villager like you? Maybe it was not as terrible as everyone said.

Escape and die, stay and live. Two options that traveled dangerously through your mind. Staying could mean death too, dying of cold, of hunger… Escaping was just the prelude to a quick, but more painful death.

The trembling of your body and the inevitable death you would suffer with either of those two options forced your brain to work hard, looking for a third, one you didn’t think about too much.

“My lady,” you said, before crossing the door, with a frown. “I could stay with you.”

“What do you mean, silly?” Angie asked, with an exaggerated gasp of surprise. “Stay here?”

“Yes, I…” you said hastily, leaving your small backpack on the floor. “I could, I could be your maid.”

“Maid? I thought you said you didn't like being a maid,” the lady asked, with a curious tone, not too startled by your proposal. You didn't know if that was a good sign.

“No, I... I said I didn't like the castle,” you corrected with a nervous smile, you didn't know why.

“Do you like this house?” she asked, with a voice that betrayed distrust.

“I don't know, but... I think, I think it would be a better option than dying,” you sighed tiredly, making use of your last resource, your last desperate option. “You don't even have to pay me.”

“Don't you want money?” the lady asked, tilting her head curiously. “What kind of stupid maid are you?”

“I'm not a maid, I'm just a desperate girl who needs a place to live,” you said confidently, sounding as sad as possible, thinking that, if inside that dress there was something resembling a heart, maybe it would soften.

“A desperate girl,” Lady Beneviento repeated, darkening her posture. “Idiota.”

“There's no need to insult, my lady,” you said in a small voice, risking yourself again.  

“Do you think your life is a disgrace, stupid?” she asked nervously, approaching you and grabbing the collar of your dress, making you gasp in fear. “Do you think you're the only one who has lost everything?” she rebuked you, with one hand tightly grabbing your clothes and the other traveling to her black veil, pushing it away with a brusque gesture. “Look at me... Look at me!”

“My, my lady,” you complained, finally discovering one of the biggest mysteries of the village, what was behind that black veil.

No matter how many times you looked at it, nowhere on that beautiful face could you see anything resembling a monster. Donna was a beautiful woman, really beautiful. You didn't even know why that was your first impression. You should be scared.

“I lost everything too, my family, my life! Don't think you're special, stupid girl…” the lady growled, letting you go in an unpleasant way. “Now get out of here, you don't want to work for a monster like me.”

“You're not a monster,” you said without thinking, letting your voice speak as it wanted, not how it should. “You, your face is fine, you have a very… beautiful eye…”

“Are you laughing at me?” she asked with a deranged look. You quickly shook your head.

“Um, Donna, Donna…” Angie interrupted, tugging hard at her dress, gesturing for Donna to pick her up from the floor. “Maybe it's not such a bad idea for this fool to work for us… Think about it, it's free…”

“Mm…” she murmured, fighting her own demons, some of which you had already heard about. “Va bene…”

“What?” you asked nervously, putting on your clothes, that were disheveled by her grip.

“What's your name?” she asked, breathing nervously, not bothering to cover her face again. You didn't know if it was because she was going to kill you, or because she liked your reaction. “Your name…” she hissed impatiently.

“(Y/N),” you said in a small voice.

 She turned her gaze, nodding nervously, pointing at you with her finger.

“Fine, (Y/N) you will work for me. But don't expect me to thank you, I'm the one doing you a favor and I warn you,” she hissed, darkening that beautiful look. “Try to play me and you'll wish the lycans would devour you.”

You smiled in relief, nodding profusely. At least you wouldn't have to escape anymore. At least your life would start to make a little more sense.

At first it was difficult for you to adapt to this new life. Your dreams of going out into the outside world were still very present in your mind. Little by little, as time went by, they were only faint memories.

Living with Donna Beneviento was complicated, but bearable. You were able to see her delicate mental health, her crises, her anger without reason… Miraculously, you began to stop them and comfort that lady in black even though she didn't ask you to.

You were nothing but a maid, for you there were no more words than a thank you from time to time, or a whisper that you couldn't understand. Little by little, you also began to relax, to get used to that language that you didn't understand, to feel the presence of the lady in black as something comfortable and not threatening.

You would always be grateful to her, even though you were afraid to show it, to tell her. To her you were just a nuisance, but at least a useful one. Fortunately or unfortunately, the Angie doll fulfilled the social needs of a human being, giving you the opportunity to talk to her, even if it was just nonsense, or mockery of you.

Donna's mysterious gaze was always on you, you could feel it when she thought you weren't aware. She was always vigilant, always attentive to your movements. What at first you considered as a slight uncomfortable harassment soon became routine, soon your head turned towards her, outlining an increasingly sincere smile.

A smile that was not difficult for you to emit, the same smile you slept with every night, under the shelter of those rickety walls, under the shelter and protection of a Lord, one increasingly present in your thoughts, in your feelings.

“Excuse me, my lady,” you said entering the workshop with a hurry, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea. The lady didn’t turn around, she simply gestured for you to come closer. You weren’t expecting a greeting either… “Your tea.”

“Grazie, (Y/N),” the brunette murmured, seeming to be concentrating on two small garments, surely for one of her hundreds of dolls.

“Is everything okay, my lady?” you asked curiously, looking, as for some time now, for an excuse to stay by her side, even if it was only a few more minutes.

She just nodded, comically scratching her head. She seemed distracted, more thoughtful than usual.

“Go away, you're disturbing me,” she whispered, without looking at your face. You sighed in defeat and obeyed, turning around with a soft bow. “Wait, wait, come here.”

Her voice sounded hurried, nervous, while her hand again indicated you to come closer. You avoided smiling shamelessly, but obeyed elegantly.

“Can I help you with something, my lady?” you asked kindly, with a calm face, hiding the strong beating of my heart.

“Um, sì…” she murmured, getting up from the work table and abruptly grabbing a chair, placing it next to her. “Sit down.”

You nodded and did as she asked, intrigued.

“Tell me, (Y/N), what do you think it is?” she asked with a frown, extending what looked like a porcelain body towards you. You took it nervously, examining it in detail.

“A, a doll, my lady,” you said in a low voice, returning the object to her. She smiled mockingly, shaking her head.

“Una bambola… No, (Y/N),” she said, with a tired sigh, rubbing her eye and leaving that porcelain body standing on the table. “Dolls have clothes. Do you see any clothes?” she asked somewhat nervously, as if she was frustrated in some way.

You shrugged, trying to keep that kind smile.

“I'm sorry, my lady,” you apologized in a low tone. She suddenly looked at you and then looked at that lifeless doll.

“I always try to sew a suitable outfit for each of my little dolls, but with this one… With this one it's more difficult to choose,” she explained with a calm voice, looking at that doll from all possible angles. “I can't decide.”

“What are the options, my lady?” you asked, looking at a pile of fabrics that the lady had on the table.

“What you see,” she commented, crossing her arms. “Tell me what do you think.”

“Mm…” you murmured, taking each of the fabrics, looking at that empty doll to compare it with them. “I think gray would suit it well, my lady.”

“Gray…” she sighed, taking the fabric from your hands and comparing it to the doll's red lips. “Yes, it will do.”

“I hope I've helped you, my lady,” you said in a friendly manner. “Do you need anything else, my lady?”

“I'd like to ask you some personal questions, if you don't mind. I want to get to know you better,” she said, thus revealing the only reason for you to stay there.

You couldn't help but blush and bite your lip nervously as you nodded.

“Of course, my lady.”

“Do you like to read?” Donna asked, placing the fabric in the old sewing machine.

“Yes, my lady, I did,” you said, watching mesmerized as the lady sewed. Your heart was telling you strange things, too strange.

“It's funny, I haven't seen you pick up a single book in all the time you've been here. You can read the books you want, (Y/N),” she said, without taking her gaze off the cloth. “You don't have to ask for permission.”

“Oh, well, thanks, I…  I didn't want to do anything without you… Well, nothing that could bother you…” you said nervously, moving your hands erratically.

“I don't mind if you read,” she whispered, barely paying attention to you. “I'd rather you do it than become one of those brainless maids at the castle.”

“Brainless?” you asked curiously, giving the woman in black the objects she pointed at with her gaze, without your presence being bothersome to her, something that made you smile more and more.

“Mm,” Donna nodded, cutting the cloth. “Unlike my sister, I value intelligence over pretty breasts.”

“Oh, um…” you said, laughing nervously. She looked at you with a serious face, as if she was surprised by your shock.

“Did I say something funny?” the lady asked, annoyed by your nervousness.

“Well, yes, my lady,” you said among laughs. She looked at you with her eyebrow raised, shaking her head.

“Although I don't know if you're really that intelligence... You wanted to get out of here...” she murmured cockily, with a haughty smile on her face.

“I had nothing to keep me here for,” you murmured a little more seriously.

She stopped, sighing.

“I feel you,” Donna whispered with a weak, different voice, as if her mood had suddenly changed, something that didn't surprise you. “I was also as stupid as you, you know?”

“My lady?”

“Before Mother Miranda adopted me, I thought the same as you, why stay in this horrible place? I had no family, no friends... I was completely alone,” she explained without you asking for explanations. You listened interested. “But I understood one thing, (Y/N), if you run away from your problems, they will follow you wherever you go.”

“That's very wise, my lady,” you commented, nodding slightly, agreeing with her.

“Donna,” she said in a brusque tone. “I can't stand you calling me that, I have a name, you know?”

“D-Donna, I'm sorry...” you apologized in a low voice, blushing. “I just mean to be polite.”

The lady stopped again in her work, looking at you with a sincere, almost embarrassing smile. That smile would give you a lot of trouble tonight.

“You were right, gray is the right color, (Y/N), maybe I need your good taste more often.”

“Oh, of course my la, Donna, you can count on me,” you said with an elated tone, one that you tried to calm down.

“I have to admit that it was not a bad idea to you to be my maid,” she commented with a lower tone, looking away from you strangely. “I don’t regret it.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, resting your elbow on the table.

“What about you, (Y/N)? Do you regret being with me?” she asked with a different tone, a more somber, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“No, of course I don’t, Donna.”

“Mm,” she murmured, sighing and returning to that gray dress that was slowly taking shape. “You can go.”

Before leaving the workshop, you turned your gaze towards the lady in black, who did the same, with a serious expression, looking at you briefly without saying anything before turning her head again.

A strange sigh came from your lips. Your legs trembled as you exited the elevator. You couldn't, you didn't want to feel those things, you wouldn't allow your heart to be wrong for the joy of having a place to live to mixed with those feelings that you shouldn't feel.

“Hey, maid!”  Angie shouted, startling you as always, interrupting the rambling of your mind, of your feelings. “Come here!”

“What do you want, Angie?” you asked in a more casual tone, one that you knew the doll tolerated, maybe too much.

“I'm bored,” the puppet complained. “Come, play with me.”

“Play? Angie… It's five in the afternoon, I'd like to rest before making dinner,” you said in a tired tone, but walking inevitably towards the doll.

“Evil, boring maid!” she protested in her shrill voice. At least those shrieks blurred the thoughts about the lady in black.

“Oh… Okay…” you sighed defeated, putting a hand on your forehead. “We'll play, but just for a while, okay?”

A while, how naive.

Time passed while the doll and you played cards. It hurt you to admit it, but spending time with the doll was quite entertaining, even if she always, always cheated.

“21, I won again,” the satisfied doll said, taking all the buttons you used as currency.

“You're so lucky,” you commented amused, shuffling the cards again.

“I'm the luck,” the doll joked. “Hey, you're very funny, maid.”

“Oh, really? Is it funny to see me lose?” you asked ironically, shaking your head.

“Oh, yes, very much so, but… I'm actually serious,” Angie commented, dealing the cards with a comical gesture. You raised your eyebrows with a curious smile. “My Donna and I used to play… But lately she's being a boring fool.”

“Donna has a lot of things to do,” you commented, coming to the brunette's defense.

“Nonsense, she's boring, she never wants to play cards. She's always with those stupid dolls that are much less cool than me,” she said amused.

You couldn't help but laugh at those comments, but your laughter died down as soon as you looked up.

“She’s always: leave me alone, Angie, I don't want to play, Angie, I'm a boring fool who only wants to be with her dolls and…” the doll continued mockingly while you, amused, gestured with your head towards the lady in black, who listened to the doll's complaints in silence.

“Boring, huh?” the lady in black murmured, crossing her arms and causing an amused gesture from the doll.

“Oh, Donna, I hadn't seen you,” the puppet said, fleeing subtly. “I was talking about… Another Donna, an uglier and dumber Donna, not about you…”

“Donna, I…” you said getting up from the floor and shaking off your dress. “I'm sorry, I forgot dinner time and I...”

“No, stay,” she said, stopping you with an arm on your wrist. “I think you should know something,” she commented in an unsettling tone, bending down to the white veil of her doll and taking out a card from it.

“Hey!” Angie protested when her owner revealed her cheat.

“Hey, what a cheater,” you joked, frowning, but not really upset.

“If you're going to cheat, at least try not to do the same thing,” the lady in black commented, sighing and handing you that card. “Besides, who are you calling boring?”

“You, silly Donna,” Angie whispered, in a threatening tone.

The lady laughed unexpectedly, shaking her head and getting down on the floor, gesturing for you to sit next to her.

“Silly? We'll see about that... (Y/N), give me cards too,” she said amused, thus starting a different time, completely different.

“Good, good! Donna plays too!” the doll celebrated.

After that fun afternoon of games, things in the mansion changed completely. They weren't just whispers, just words of gratitude. Questions began to come out of her lips, doubts about your tastes, your concerns. Lady Beneviento had changed, and you didn't know why.

Talking to her was easier for you, just as it was easier for her to talk to you. It was an unexpected connection, two souls that seemed predestined to meet each other. Considering her a friend was too bold, but the feelings in your heart were worse.

It could be her beauty, her voice, her lavender scent, her smile… It could be many things, but what was certain was that you were attracted to her, a lot. At first it just seemed like a silly thing, a feeling of gratitude to the brunette. But, after months, after a long time exchanging smiles, thoughts, interesting conversations, you realized that it wasn't like that.

You were in love with her, hopelessly in love.

You thought about her all the time, even doing the most boring tasks. The smile that formed on your face when you imagined her beauty, her words, accompanied you day after day, even in something as boring as sweeping the old porch.

“Mmmm…” you hummed while you cleaned, with those thoughts always sailing through your head. The impossibility of the reciprocity of her feelings was still far from your mind, too far to start breaking your heart.

“Shhh. The maid's going to hear you…” a voice interrupted your delirium, a voice that seemed to come from the old path to the mansion and that you didn’t recognize.

You frowned to try to discover its origin but, after failing, you continued with your tasks. That place was certainly perfect for you to confuse sounds with sinister voices.

“Hey, you!” Angie's shrill voice interrupted that sinister calm.

The lady in black, covered with her black veil, holding the puppet in her arms, left the house in a hurry, walking away from you, as if she had seen something dangerous.

“Donna?” you asked without being heard, seeing, to your surprise, two boys coming out behind some bushes.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” one of them said, backing away as the lady approached.

“We just had to come here due to a stupid bet!” the other said, walking backwards.

“Get out of my property!” Angie shrieked, in that dark voice. “Porca puttana! Get out, get out!”

“Yes, yes we're leaving now,” one of the boys muttered, running towards the elevator, terrified.

“I'm sorry, my lady!” the other yelled, disappearing into the darkness.

You watched in astonishment at that scene, how the lady in black growled furiously, approaching where you were again.

“You, haven't you noticed that they were watching you?” Donna told you, freeing herself from the veil with a furious gasp.

You opened your eyes wide and shook your head, confused.

“Um, no, I... I was just, I was just... Sweeping,” you commented, nervous due to Donna's abrupt attitude, one that had become more frequent for some time now.

 “Sweeping…” she muttered mockingly, breathing heavily and looking you up and down, suddenly grabbing your arm. “What is this? What are you wearing?”

“A, a dress…” you said, blinking nervously. “I asked the Duke for it the other day, don't you like it?”

“Mm yes, I like it…” she whispered, nodding, seemingly calmer. “Do you know who likes it too? That pair of vermin who ran away, (Y/N). They couldn't take their eyes off you.”

“Oh, really?” you asked amused, blushing at the idea of ​​looking attractive to another person, something you weren't used to.

“Do you find it amusing?” Donna asked, with a stern tone again. “Cazzo, cover yourself up!”

“Should I cover myself up? I…” you said confused, looking at your cleavage. “Oh, well, it's a bit provocative, isn't it?”

“A bit?” the lady questioned with a frown and a dark look. “I don't tolerate anyone looking at you like that, understand? If you're going outside, cover yourself up.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it bothered you,” you apologized, tying a button to be less… Provocative.

“It doesn't bother me as long as I can see you, understand? Only me,” she said nervously, playing with her hands.

“What do you mean?” you asked nervously at those words, ones she seemed to regret immediately.

“Ugh… Don't you have to sweep?”

You nodded with wide eyes.

“Then sweep, (Y/N),” she said, pulling you into the house. “But do it here, do you hear me? Where I can see you and…” she stammered, running away hastily, as if she had gotten into a mess of words. “Cazzo!”

“Well…” you sighed, scratching the back of your neck and looking at Angie. “What's wrong with her?”

“I don't know,” the puppet answered, leaving you with more questions than answers.

That attitude could seem like something isolated, but it wasn't. As time went by, those little meaningless outbursts began to be more frequent. It seemed like something in her head was telling her that she had to protect you, to keep you away from any danger, or at least that's how you saw it.

It seemed like a duality, an internal struggle with herself, a change of sad and dark looks, of smiles and threats that you couldn't understand, at least until that day.

The door rang, interrupting a quiet moment. Donna was reading and you next to her, in silence, exchanging the usual shy glances, ones that were always accompanied by a smile.

“I'm going,” you said, sighing, closing the book and walking towards the entrance. You weren't expecting the Duke, or anyone really, but still, you were the maid, although you seemed less and less like it.

“Hello... What do we have here?” a young woman, covered by a black cloak greeted you with a purr. You knew her, she was one of the three Dimitrescu sisters.

“Hello, Miss...”

“Daniela,” the girl said, interrupting your formal and elegant greeting. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I'm, (Y/N), Lady Beneviento's maid,” you explained with a fake smile.

You knew what they were capable of, but you didn't know she could leave the castle. Well, it was a nice day, the sun was shining, maybe that was why.

“Maid? Aunt Donna has a maid? What a surprise, she hadn't told us anything although... I understand why...” she whispered, looking you up and down uncomfortably, forcing you to step back.

“Well, here I am,” you said, faking another smile, without losing your composure. “Did you want something, Miss?”

“Oh, yes, I came because my mother had to pick something up...” the young vampire commented, entering the house as if it were hers. There, behind you, Donna was waiting for you, covered in her veil and in a nervous pose.

“Aunt Donna!” the girl exclaimed, putting her arm around the brunette, a gesture that Donna, of course, rejected. “Why didn't you tell me you had a maid?”

“It's none of your business, Daniela,” a nervous voice came out of the black veil as she pushed the fly girl away from her.

“Oh, please...” the young Dimitrescu joked.

“What do you want? I'm busy,” the lady in black asked, with an impatient tone. The girl smiled, winking at you.

“Of course you are...” Daniela mocked, circling you like a carrion bird. “I'm sure you're very busy...”

“What do you want?” Donna asked again, with a rougher tone, shaking every time the girl got too close to you.

“I've come for my mother's commission,” the vampire explained. “Although well... Surely if we put a bow on this beauty...”

“Don't touch her,” the lady said, roughly pushing the vampire, who laughed in amusement.

“Well, well... Calm down, Aunt Donna...” Daniela mocked. “Sharing is good manners...”

“Vaffanculo...” the brunette hissed, turning around to search for something in the drawers and hand it to the vampire roughly. “Your blanket, now get out.”

“Oh, why the rush? What's your name, sweetie?” Daniela asked, approaching you and putting her arms around your shoulders in the same way, with a sensual voice that made you shiver.

“(Y/N),” you said with a trembling voice. You could feel Donna's gaze staring into yours, and it wasn't a friendly one.

“(Y/N), how about we go for a walk? It's a beautiful day to enjoy good company...” the young Dimitrescu whispered.

You didn't even have time to answer.

Donna growled furiously, pushing the vampire out of the house.

“Hey, hey! Don't be selfish, Aunt Donna! Hey, at least let my mother…!” the girl protested, silenced by a loud slam of the door.

“Ugh, thanks, Donna, I was getting a bit nervous,” you sighed, with a relieved smile.

The lady in black turned around, furiously pushing the veil away from her face. There was anything but a smile in her face.

“Nervous, you say?” she asked in a dangerous whisper. “I didn't see you nervous.”

“Well, I…” you stammered. “I didn't really know how to act.”

“That's why you let that stupid girl touch you?” she asked, approaching you dangerously. She seemed out of her mind again, acting in a deranged way. “Hey, come here!” she shrieked, grabbing you by your dress when you decided that running away was the best solution to that strange behavior.

You, frightened by that look, tried to struggle with her, but you couldn't do it. With a growl, she pushed you against a wall, preventing you from running away.

“How long are you going to keep laughing at me?!” she asked, hitting the wall with a fist, making you shrink in fear, totally confused and scared.

“Donna… What are you talking about?” you asked with a trembling voice, with your eyes shining with terror.

“Don't play dumb… Cazzo… Are you interested in her?” she asked, pointing to the door. “Are you planning to flirt with all the girls and boys in this fucking village?”

“I don't know what you're talking about! I'm not interested in her, Donna,” you said in your defense, shaking your head. She laughed nervously, making the same gesture. “You're, you're very nervous… Calm down, please…”

“I don't want to!” she squealed, too close to you. “I've tried, I really have, (Y/N), but I can't, I can't stand it…”

“What are you talking about?” you asked in a small voice. “Donna, you're scaring me.”

“You’re scaring me, (Y/N)…” she hissed, with a dark look, putting a hand on your cheek, a shaky and warm hand. “Every night you appear in my dreams, I see you in the dark, in the light, even when you're not here… I see you…”

“Donna,” you sighed, seeing in those words something like a confession, one you didn't think possible.

“You… You're… You're mine… You're my maid… You can't leave me. I can't let anyone take you away from me…” Donna murmured, sobbing too, adding another hand to your face. “Don't you see how much I’m suffering for you?”

“Yours?” you asked confused.

“Yes… Mia!” she screamed furiously again. “No one has the right to touch you, not even look at you! You are mine, and only mine! I, I, I, I, I…”

“Donna…” you murmured again, ignoring the screams, keeping her words.

“I'm… I'm in love with you…” the doll maker finally confessed, making your eyes open in surprise and your words get stuck in your throat. “I don't care that you don't feel the same… You are mine and… No one… No one has the right to…”

Unable to do anything else, your body reacted in a desperate, risky way, bringing you closer to her lips, closing the distance with a messy kiss, one that would silence her complaints, her stupid paranoia.

 Yes, you were hers, but for a long time, and you knew it, you wanted it.

 “I'm yours…” you whispered on her lips, tasting the salty tear that ran down her cheek. Her breathing was still labored, but her screams stopped. “Donna, I'm in love with you too…”

“What?” she asked surprised, not being able to control the impulse to kiss you again, to pin you against the wall and run her hands through your hair. “But…”

“I don't want anyone else, I'm not interested in anyone else,” you said among increasingly wild kisses. “I love you, I love the wonderful woman who saved my life, your beautiful smile, you, Donna, only you, that wounded heart that reminds me so much of my own…”

“That… That's… Nice,” she said, with a calmer smile, with a subtle blush on her cheeks as she pushed the hair out of your face. “Do you feel that way about me?”

“Yes,” you said nodding, caressing the soft skin of her hands. “You don't have to be like that, darling... No one will take me away from you...”

“I'm like that because I love you, because I don't want to lose you,” Donna whispered, finally explaining that strange behavior, that latent possessiveness that was slowly becoming evident.

“You won't lose me, I promise,” you said lovingly, comforting the lady with your sincere words.

Donna smiled, but it only lasted a moment. Suddenly, her gaze darkened, pushing you back against the wall, filling your mouth with wild, out-of-control kisses. You couldn't do anything else but accept them, enjoy her lips on your skin, on your neck, feel her hot hands moving down your dress.

“It's not enough...” she whispered on your lips, her breathing as agitated as yours, running her nails down your legs, her gaze getting darker and darker, with a spark of lust shining in her eye. “You have to be mine, now…”

“Donna… What…?” you asked, when the onslaught of kisses resumed, when her body stuck to yours irremediably, when her hips began to dance with yours. You couldn’t complain, you didn’t want to.

The gasps came out of your mouth, your hands traveled over the black dress, caressing, scratching everything in your path. You couldn't and didn't want to refuse, not even when her slender fingers pulled at your underwear, when she lifted your leg and her gaze was locked on you again.

“I won't be able to bear you saying no to me, (Y/N),” the lady hissed in your ear, scratching your leg as she played with her dress, releasing her own arousal and rubbing it against your wet entrance, surprising you. “I disgust you…”

“No, no… I love the way you’re, I love your body…” you said immediately, starting to feel how her erection was getting closer to its destination as, in an improvised way, she entered you, stealing your innocence in an unexpected way. “Donna!”

“Taci…” she whispered, moving her hips abruptly, taking you wildly against the wall, without you being able or willing to do anything to stop it.

The pain only lasted an instant, the pleasure came soon after, a pleasure you had never dared to feel, the pleasure of seeing how your wet walls were conquered, how her shaft claimed you anxiously to the sound of hurried moans, just like her movements.

Clumsy kisses replaced the moans, those obscene sounds that echoed in the old hall. You were in paradise, right where you wanted, in her arms, with her inside of you, being part of her body, part of her, not wanting her to leave.

An unknown cramp tensed your body, forced you to scream, to hold on to the lady, to scratch her back, to lose control.

Well, it wasn't what you could define as something romantic but... When with an agonizing cry, her seed ran through your body, flooding it with a pleasurable heat, you didn't care at all.

“Mine… You are mine now…” Donna repeated over and over, pulling you down from the wall and kissing you erratically, pulling at your waist, at your shamefully wet body.

“Donna… I love you… I love you…”

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for derpsheep behind the cut; weird amnesia Timberkon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You can recognize their heartbeats?” Bernard asks incredulously–that is a very creepy and invasive thing to recognize about someone, much less be passively listening to, what the fuck–and then frowns. “Wait, got back from where?” 

“Long story,” Superboy mutters. “Alternate realities were involved. It sucked. But I got back here, and it���s supposed to be right, and there’s people I recognize, but there’s . . . different people, too. And no one here recognizes me. And I thought . . .” 

“That you were either totally insane or just stranded in the wrong reality for no discernable reason with no idea how to find the right one?” Bernard assumes. 

“That, yeah,” Superboy says tightly. “Definitely that.” 

“Good news, I guess, if you are insane, it’s a shared delusion, and if you’re in the wrong reality, so am I,” Bernard says. “Because again, I definitely remember you. And Hawaii. And Superman being dead. And like, all that shit in general. Also you kinda died that one time too? There was a statue, I’m pretty sure. Actually I think there were two.” 

Superboy’s smile is tight and humorless, and he digs his fingers into the inside of his wrist. Bernard has no clue how a dude in such severe and obvious distress can look so fucking good about, like . . . literally everything he’s got going on over there. It’s a lot of “everything”, is all. Superboy is a lot no matter what, obviously, but still. Like, extra a lot. Secret bonus levels of a lot. 

A lot. 

“I mean, there used to be,” Superboy says, and the pained smile he’s wearing turns–bitter, kind of. 

Fuck, Bernard feels so bad for this dude. Like so many levels of so bad. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I need to google some shit,” he says as he digs his phone out. Tim is clearly taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom, and since he isn’t actually in there waiting for Superboy, it’s gotta be a Bat thing, which usually gives him a good fifteen or twenty minutes of fuck-around time before Tim makes it back with the weak excuse du jour. Or, like, three and a half weeks, one very memorable and kinda fucking awful time that Bernard had spent wondering if jumping into the timestream was how vigilantes ghosted you. “And maybe check some forums or something.” 

“I don’t think ‘is this weird dude at the boba shop crazy’ is gonna pop up on Bing, man,” Superboy says, still wearing the same bitter smile. Bernard wonders why he didn’t just go to the Justice League and explain himself to them. Like, they’d probably believe him, right? Or at least they wouldn’t instantly not believe him; they’d check things out or whatever. 

Alternately, though: half-Kryptonian full-telekinetic with Lex Luthor’s DNA and Superman’s face who doesn’t even know if he’s crazy or not.  

So like . . . that seems like an awkward conversation to have with Superman, maybe, Bernard allows. Or just fucking agonizing and terrifying and wildly, wildly likely to end in one of those stupid misunderstanding-based super-fights and, like, maybe also getting drop-kicked into the Phantom Zone because said stupid fight would be against Superman and that is, apparently, what Superman usually does with supervillain Kryptonians. And probably Superboy is having some very understandable issues about getting drop-kicked out of reality right now, if that’s a concern he’s had. Which–the Phantom Zone isn’t the same thing as an alternate reality, as far as Bernard’s aware, but also what the fuck does he know about the Phantom Zone? 

Bernard googles, in quick succession: Superman’s death, the Phantom Zone, and Superboy. He gets a ton of articles and photographs and blog posts with absolutely zero trace of Superboy in a single one of them, a lot of contradicting intel about what the hell the Phantom Zone actually is, and also some blurry candid photos of a ten year-old in ripped jeans and an S-shield hoodie that he’s never seen before in his life. 

. . . so that’s weird, yeah, Bernard observes, blinking down at his phone. 

“Huh,” he says, brow furrowing. “Hey, should I know this kid?” 

“Did you literally just google ‘Superboy’?” Superboy asks, which is notably not an answer to Bernard’s question. 

“Obviously, yeah, the entire internet is in my pocket, why would I not do that,” Bernard replies reasonably, still scrolling through random photos of this completely unrecognizable kid. Said kid continues to look like a total fucking stranger and Bernard continues to have zero clue who he is or why he’s wearing the “S”. Another clone, maybe? Like, an even mini-er mini-Super? Bernard can’t see his face all that clearly in any of the pics, still, but he’s at least got Superman’s coloring, it looks like. 

“Because Tim would give you shit about it, probably, I don’t know,” Superboy lies, because he very obviously does know. Probably better than Bernard does himself, come to think of it, which is kind of a weird thought but also, like, an obviously objectively true one. Superboy’s spent a lot more time with Tim than he has, even having been, like . . . unrealitied and all. 

God, that is still so disturbing a concept, too. 

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Japan is Winning on Kisses & Other Alternate Realities

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - It would be great if we got the alternative romance with dead Kram from Tai’s perspective (JBL style.) Still I like this show. It’s a little bit like I Feel You Linger in the Air only with a love triangle. And while I'm not a fan of triangles as a general rule, I don’t mind it here because the set up is clever. Wayu and  ao are fun sides too. It sure is moving very quickly, which I like. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. But that’s normal for me with this kind of Thai drama. 

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 4 of 8 - They are extremely sappy boyfriends. I love that mom has a secret gf. Could we please have more of them? The love triangle sides are ridiculous, but I do like that it’s all out in the open. I also like they are actually addressing the complicated parental dynamics of owning a sex club. Honestly, I think Khem should have to be a host too. Learn him the right way, girl!

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - It’s good, I like the fallout and them actually having to deal with crazy fans and past relationships. They’re so good at communicating it’s kind of a pleasure to watch them suffer through external pressures, because I have faith that they can make it through.

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) ep 6 of 8 - They are such cute puppy dads and so clearly meant to be together, the fact that they aren’t is just frustrating. The fight thing was stupid. And not a whole lot happened... plus singing. I’m getting fatigued with this one. 

1000 Years Old ep 7 of 12 - Did I miss something happening, or did nothing happen? 

Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 6 - It’s so boring, there’s so much guitar playing, and it got weirdly voyeuristic (in a very much not sexy way). I’m totally out. DNF

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) ep 3 of 6 - I can’t tell if this is trying to be a BL Romancing the Stone, or a BL Hangover, or both. The problem with situational comedy is it must be both situational and comedic, not just option one. The problem with calling something BL, is that it must be BL. This show got 1 of 3 claims correct. 33% is not a passing grade. DNF 

Honestly, it's the HANDS with these two. They do beautiful beautiful things with their hands. If you're one of those hands-obsessed BLabies you should be watching LIBTSTA!

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube & Viki) ep 6 of 11 - So the worst finally happened. The mountain of pain has fallen down upon us. And now, hopefully in the second half things get better for our boys. But what a rough ride. Normally, this is not my style of BL, but everyone is doing such a gorgeous job with it, I can’t fault it… except that it hurts. The red thread symbolism was elegantly done. I’d like to hope we get a reunion in the next one, but knowing this style of series they’re gonna draw it out. There's gonna be a more pain first.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - Those fuck me puppy dog eyes were perfectly executed. I would not have been able to resist either. Gosh they are so damn cute. This is a great show.

Jazz for Two (Korea Gaga/grey) eps 1-2 of 8 - This comes from the Shoulder to Cry On team so I'm scared, but this one is all actors* not idols so maybe they'll be braver. Boy howdy does it have a fantastic opening sequence. Also the lead is fucking adorable. Mr Broody McBroodypants is cute too. Korea sure loves “pretty but broken.” On the JBL end of the spectrum, is everyone in love with their siblings? That’s weird. The dining room scene was painful. All in all, it's good, I'm intrigued. Let's see how you go little show.

I stand absolutely corrected the lead is a member of NEWKIDD (in my defense I'd never heard of them until Build Up last month). I did recognize him from To My Star because at the time I thought he was too pretty to be only a side character.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 10 fin - Again there was overuse of previous footage and maudlin navel-gazing grief over something we knew was going to happen. So I didn’t really feel much emotional connection to the drama. 7 year time gap.? t was a cute reunion but the moral quandary never really got resolved. I don’t know how to rate this, I’m not sure I will ever watch it again, so that is a big mark against it.

There’s nothing objectively wrong with this BL except how upsetting it is because of the foundational pygmalion story - grown man falls in love with an android who is basically both his slave and, by maturity level, a child. Yet that premise is crystal clear from the get go, so we watch it eyes open. The actors are cute, the romance sweet, the physical chemistry on point (of course, it’s Taiwan) and yet I was left ultimately unsettled by the concept, content, and plot. 7/10 

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 7 of 8 - I'm so ready for this to be over, and for Gaga to have something good on. Soon please?

It's done, ready to binge, but I suck

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

It's airing but...

Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) - It's too much to ask me to keep up with 2 minute verticals, I don't have that kind of TikTok endurance training. Waiting to binge.

A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - I watched the first ep but grey is too much work for this inferior of a show. I may pick up and binge if it gets distribution but for now, it gets a DNF from me. KimCop might have held this crap together but Kim without Cop? No thank you.

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

Tangential to the genre

There has been the occasional discussion on this topic here in this little corner of tumblr so I thought there might be a few intersted in this podcast: AmericanThaiGuy Ron Weaver on the Complicated Issue of Racism in Thailand (The Bangkok Podcast)

Thailand passed its Marriage Equality bill through the lower house. It's expected to pass the high house and get signed by the King, but that hasn't quite happened yet.

And MaxTul dropped a photo shoot.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting Soon

3/31 Only Boo! (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, baby boy idol can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

3/31 The Next Prince (Thai ????) 12 eps - trailer. ZeeNew in a fantasy/historical set in a palace where Zee plays a knight and Nu a prince - YES PLEASE. (Apparently this is just the pilot, not the start of the actual show, see comments.)

4/1 Love is like a Cat (Korea ????) 12 eps - This completed filming Aug 2022(!) which means there have been serious problems with post-production. This is another of Silkwood's Korean+Thai colab projects. Mew Suppasit plays a rookie film star, called the Cat Prince (for his cold arrogance) who goes up against a charismatic puppyish animal daycare director (JM of JUST B). There is a side romance (love triangle?) with a veterinarian. Geonu of JUST B is also in the cast. Dual languages.

Hum, trash-watch-a-licious?

4/3 We Are (Thai GMMTV YouTube iQIYI) 12 eps - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN!

4/11 Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan ????) 10 eps - Kindly Ryota goes off to uni only to find his new roommate is his childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend and Ryota tries to help him figure out why, they fall in love along the way. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake.

4/11 Gray Shelter AKA Gray Currents (Korea ????) 4 eps - SooHyuk is only just surviving and reunites with YoonDae, an old friend. They end up living together. One of the leads is played by Choco of Choco Milk Shake.

4/18 At 25:00, in Alaska AKA 25 Ji, Akasaka de (Japan Gaga - may not be global) 10 eps - Yuki lands his first starring role in a BL drama alongside superstar Asami (previously his senior at uni). Said superstar suggests they form a sham relationship until filming concludes. As they actually begin to fall in love, the spotlight begins to burn.

Seriously? You're killing me with these titles, boys.

4/26 My Stand-In (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of that show was the clashing directing styles). This one looks well complicated, lemme try: Joe is a stuntman for famous actor Tong. Joe falls in love with Ming but Ming sees Joe as nothing more than a Tong-replacement. After learning this horrible truth, Joe dies. Joe then wakes up in the body of another man also named Joe. He manages to rebuild the same life as before—with the same people eventually re-meeting Ming. Ming wants Joe back but Joe doesn't understand why. But Ming seems to know what's going on and wants to give him some kind of explanation.

I'm exhausted just trying to describe the plot.

Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner) and Best, news here.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Just these two, in my head, rent free. Thanks Japan!

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy. (With so many tags when does a weekly tumblr post become a newsletter? That is this week's philosophical question...)

[ceilidhtransing]

In light of recent and ongoing UK fuckery, I am so sick and tired of the idea that extremely transphobic things “aren't really transphobic” because they are coming from people who “probably mean well” and “don't hate trans people”.

Yeah, because bigotry can only be perpetrated by people who are actively, consciously hateful, sitting in their villainous lairs and dreaming up new innovative ways to be evil. (Obvious sarcasm.)

Transphobia is not just “when you actively and knowingly hate trans people”. Transphobia is also

A paternalistic attitude that says that trans people can't really be trusted to know themselves or what they want and so need to be gatekept from healthcare by cis “experts”

A refusal to listen to and take into account trans expertise; hell, a denial that trans expertise even exists

The idea that while some trans people existing in society is fine, ideally we should be limiting that number as much as we can

The idea that transition - social or physical or both - should only ever be a last resort after all other “possible avenues” have been explored, because being trans is fundamentally an undesirable inferior state and ideally we should be protecting people from transition for their own good

An attempt to clamp down on the use of “dangerous unregulated private healthcare” and an insistence on “safety” and on “doing things the right way” that manifests in reality as a denial of care because no viable alternatives to such “dangerous” options are actually provided

A carving out of exceptions to the basic principle of bodily autonomy whenever a body happens to belong to a trans person

A total dismissal of the concept of harm reduction when it comes to trans people; the only harm reduction that really matters is making sure no cis person accidentally does anything trans, and that end should be doggedly pursued no matter how many trans people it will harm along the way

An expectation of ludicrously unattainable standards of evidence and success for any healthcare involving trans people, that you would never demand of “normal” healthcare - a >15% regret rate for some common surgery is fine; a <1% regret rate for something trans-related is a national scandal that calls for an immediate inquiry into care standards

The refusal to change policies and approaches that have been demonstrated time and time again to harm trans people, because you view the status quo of cis authority over trans bodies as more important than the survival of the people those bodies belong to

The demand that cis people as individuals, and cis society at large, deserve to have their opinions taken into account regarding how a trans person chooses to live and what they choose to do to their body, and that trans freedom should hinge on cis approval

An assumption that segregation between “normal healthcare” and “trans healthcare” is just natural and necessary, even when it is literally the same procedure or treatment

The welcoming of openly trans-hostile voices into conversations about trans issues to the exclusion of actual trans people, because “it's really important that all views are aired” (apart from the views of trans people, obviously)

The attitude that, no matter how ignorant of, detached from, irrelevant to, and unwilling to learn of trans people's lives you are, your personal consent and satisfaction must be obtained before any progress around trans equality can be made, and trans people must only move at the pace of your willingness to understand and get on board

An insistence on endlessly rehashing the same basic points again and again and preventing any forward movement by repeatedly dragging the conversation back to square one, forcing trans people and their allies to debunk the same nonsense again and again and defend the same well-proven, well-established truths again and again

The denial that transphobia even exists or is a significant problem that needs to be addressed - it's not bigotry, it's just conflicting views! After all, gender identity is a polarising issue!

and so much more besides. Transphobia is a social system, a way of thinking, a set of baked-in assumptions, an institutionalised bias. Conscious, active “hatred” is not a prerequisite for anything listed above, but they are all transphobia, and at the root of all of them is a casual indifference to trans survival, a prioritisation of cis comfort and cis interests over trans lives, and an instinctive valuing of cis existence over trans existence. A lot of cis people don't even recognise these things as transphobia because they themselves hold those casual prejudices and therefore see the extensions of them as natural.

And at this point, I don't care about “good intentions”. These things are all manifestations of the insidious and deeply evil web of transphobia that prevents trans people from living full lives as equal participants in society. People who keep holding these attitudes and doing these things aren't “basically well-intentioned”; they're just bigots who don't know or care that they're bigots.

Transphobia is not just “when some hateful fanatic says they want all trans people dead”. Transphobia is all around us. Start seeing it.

[renjunphile]

if my wishes came true, it would have been you | mark lee

PAIRING ✧ nct's mark lee x female reader WORD COUNT ✧ 12.0k TAGS ✧ idol!mark x idol!reader, exes!au, exes to lovers!au, really quite angsty, happy ending, fluff, non-linear narrative

PLAYLIST aka SONGS BY YN ✧ the 1 by taylor swift ; 21 by gracie abrams ; i miss you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams ; champagne problems by taylor swift ; in between by gracie ambrams ; somebody by hwasa and loco ; i know it won't work by gracie abrams, dancing with our hands tied (acoustic) by taylor swift

SUMMARY ✧ persist and resist the temptation to ask if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? (alternatively, every single time you and mark get a chance to talk about your breakup, it never goes as planned)

-

MAY 2021

"NCT are here."

You hum along to the track blasting in your left ear through the singular airpod. It's the first day of your comeback promotions, and while you should feel confident from the many months you'd practiced the song every single day for multiple hours, no amount of time could ever erase the nerves you feel each comeback day.

You're already finished with your hair and makeup, being the first to sit in the chair to give your members some time to wake up from their naps in the van. Though you should all be bright, awake, and preppy for your comeback stage, the reality was that all of you were obliteratingly tired from the near all-nighter in the practice room. Your makeup artists are true magicians for the way they cover up all signs of tiredness even under all those harsh, bright stage lights.

"Unnie, did you hear me?" your youngest member Kali poked your arm incessantly.

"Kali, stop," you whine, pushing her finger away, "I heard you."

"So why didn't you react?"

"Why should I?" you sigh, pausing the track on your phone.

She pauses for a while, choosing to craft her words before replying too hastily, "We should still go and say hi. Haechan is asking if we wanna film a TikTok with them."

"You know they only post with SM idols," you remind her.

"You were in SM too. It's just for fun," she mumbles, "You know how many idols feature on Haechan's private account. Please come."

"You're up to no good, Kali," you squint at her suspiciously, watching the room carefully to see if anyone had overheard. It wasn't really a big deal; all your managers were well-informed, just like your members, and your stylists were basically your friends.

"I already talked to our manager and Haechan talked to their manager," Kali wrapped her fingers around your wrist delicately, but pulling to encourage you to stand up, "Let's go."

The walk to the hallway where the NCT members agreed to meet the two of you wasn't exactly a long one, but the rumblings of nerves bubbling in your stomach made it feel like a million years. You weren't stupid; you knew exactly what to expect and you wouldn't put it past your maknae to meddle in a time like this.

"Oh look, they're here already," Kali was biting a grin behind her words as 3 figures came into view. Haechan gives you a warm smile and a famous bear hug before he was shoved away. 

"Noona," you resist a pout as one of the boys you had been taking care of since you were younger wrapped you up in a big hug, "Haven't seen you in so long. Missed you."

"Missed you too Ji. You grow an inch every time I see you," you also resist the urge to ruffle up his perfectly styled purple hair out of fear of getting hunted by his hair stylist, "I like this purple on you."

He gives you an appreciative grin and somehow you still see him as the tiny, shy boy running energetically around the halls of the company building after being chased by his fellow trainees. Jisung moves on to greet your member, who was still in conversation with Haechan.

It's definitely not that you dread having to face Mark Lee. It's totally not the fact that he's your ex-boyfriend. Or the fact that you're still in love with him. Or the fact that he's still in love with you. No, none of that.

Totally.

"You look really pretty, Y/N," he begins slowly, taking in your appearance in front of him, having not seen each other for a few months.

Mark Lee stands in front of you stoic, hands by his side and feet together. It's almost like he's fighting his instinct to wrap you up in his arms like he's done most of his life because you sure know you're having to fight that instinct too.

"Thanks, Mark. I like your blue hair," you smile softly, "How are you?"

"I'm good. Amazing, even. I guess," he's mumbling, running his hands through said hair you just complimented and you can tell he's nervous, "I love the song. And the whole album. I can tell which songs you wrote. You always make me so proud."

Ouch. It stings your heart whenever he says things like that. How could you have let go of someone so sweet?

"Thanks. Congratulations on your first album and coming back with Dream."

"Ah, thanks. I fought so hard to come back to the group and I'm really happy they finally listened to me," he began, "You know how much I love them."

"Yeah, I know."

You're barely meeting his eyes, but when you do, it feels like he's hesitating in his words.

"Mark-"

"Happy birthday by the way," he rushes out, "For yesterday. I'm sorry that I didn't text. Or call."

"It's okay," you reassure him, knowing that that was probably easier for you both that he didn't.

"How did you spend your birthday?"

"The members got me cake. Coffee, my favourite," you recount, "I did a live for a bit, but other than that we were practicing all day for today."

"Oh, I'm sorry. That really sucks," he frowns.

"You know how it goes. I'll have more birthdays to celebrate anyway-"

"But you didn't celebrate last year either!" he protests.

"Maybe next year, then," you pull your lips into a tight smile, "It's okay Mark. Don't worry about it. I'm not really fond of my birthdays anymore and 22's not a big deal."

He sighs while looking at you, "You deserve to celebrate your birthday no matter what. I hope you can find some time to do something  for yourself."

You chuckle lightly, "That'll be hard to come by. I don't know how you've done it with multiple groups all these years, Mark. I've only been debuted for three years and it's never got any easier. You were really stretching yourself thin, huh?"

"I guess," he's playing with his fingers, so you know he has something to say.

"Just say it, Mark. Whatever you want to say."

You can read him like a book and you've always been able to. It's not your fault that the book is wide open, as compared to the way you've always been- shut, bound, and locked.

"I just wanted to say I miss you. That's all. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Thanks to the secluded hallway that Haechan had found and led you to, the coast was clear enough for you to close the distance between you and Mark even just by a bit more. His breath hitches as you place a hand on his arm.

"Thanks for caring, Mark. I miss you too."

He smiles at you softly and the two of you are so engrossed in each other to notice that Kali, Haechan and Jisung had disappeared a while ago. You know it's time for you to go back though.

The worst part of the whole situation wasn't the breakup itself. Of course, the breakup hurt both of you for a long time and you don't even think you're recovered. It did happen over a year ago, but that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part is knowing that every time you meet again, walking away hurts more each time. It's the fact that there's nothing you can do but listen to your heart break with each step you take away from each other. It's the fact that there's nothing you can do about the fact that you still love each other more than anything else in this world.

-

2014

Mark Lee was known to be SM's golden child. In the future, he'd be known as the most over-worked in the company, due to his talents and resilience, but now, he's just Mark Lee, second to you.

You'd done everything before Mark. You were born first. You moved to Korea first. You beat him joining the company by 6 months and you beat him getting announced as part of SM Rookies just by 7 days.

None of that mattered because it was always just you and him together, wherever. Sure, you trained and practiced separately, but lunchtimes, downtimes, company gatherings- it was always the two of you attached to the hip. There was really nothing the company could say- the two of you were barely 15 so what was the worst you could do?

"How long do you think it'll be before your debut?" the two of you are lying down on the grass in a park a few minutes away from the building. His hands are rifling through the blades, yanking them up every so often, while you made daisy chains quietly.

He hums in response, "I don't know. Soon I hope, but I've only been here for like just over a year. Realistically, I'd say like 2 years. Don't tell anyone I told you, but I heard Johnny hyung talking to the manager about some kind of project that the company has been thinking of for a while. Something about having a group with infinite members!"

Your eyes widened at the thought, "Wow, really? EXO debuted with 12 and I thought that was a lot!"

"Yeah, right? But there are only like 9 of us in SM Rookies right now. How many do you think they'll start with and how am I going to get lines in a song if there's so many of us?"

You nudge him, "Well, with your awesome talent and writing skills of course. I can't wait to see what ends up happening to you guys- oh yeah, by the way, how's that new trainee you guys are training with? Donghyuck, right?"

"New?" he sat up with wide eyes, twisting his body to look at you, "He's been here for like 5 months and it's been the worst 5 months of my life! He's just so infuriating. His voice is amazing, sure, but he never listens and is always talking and hanging off me! I told him that he makes me want to leave the company."

You laugh at his frustrated expression, "Ha, you'd never leave the company. You'd never leave me behind. Plus, I bet you'll be best friends in a few years. Opposites attract and all that."

"Hm, but you and I are quite similar. Don't you think?"

There were definitely some traits that you shared to both be enduring the same path. Resilient, hard-working, brave, and enduring were all ones. After all, it's a big leap of faith to train to have the chance to be an idol just at 12 or 13 with no guaranteed future.

When it came down to it though, you'd like to think that there were also traits you each had that weren't always necessarily opposites all the time, but traits that complemented each other.

Mark liked to talk; you liked to listen. Mark was optimistic and would always be the one to cheer you up on your particularly moody days. You were Mark's calm through it all. Mark loved to rap; you found your passion in singing. Mark liked carrots and would take them off your plate in the cafeteria and swap them with his peas. Mark's hands were calloused from his guitar-playing, while yours were smooth and soft when he held them.

"No, I think we're the perfect example of opposites attract."

"Well then that's why you're my best friend," he grinned over at you while you slid a daisy chain bracelet onto his wrists, "Forever and whenever."

"Always," you grinned.

-

AUGUST 2021

"What are you doing here?"

"No happy birthday Mark?" he teases, holding a bouquet of flowers and a grocery store plastic bag in his hands on your doorstep.

"Come in before anyone sees you," you pull him inside your dorm, sticking your head out the hallway to see if it was empty, "How did you get here?"

"Relax, Y/N. My manager drove me and I was in all this," he pulls out a mask and a beanie from his pocket to show you.

"Oh, good. Happy birthday, I guess, but what are you doing here?" you question him again, looking at the contents in his grasp.

"Well, it all started when Hyuck said that we were throwing a birthday party for me. Then Jisung invited Kali and obviously, you too. And your members, of course. Then you said you couldn't come because you're busy," his eyes dart to the episode of Modern Family on your TV and the blanket lazily thrown on the couch, combined with your pajamas, "So I didn't want to come to the party anymore."

"But all my members are at your dorm," you frown, "There's still a party?"

"Yeah, I guess. Gives Jisung an opportunity to spend more time with his crush, which I'm sure Kali appreciates."

"So they're hosting your birthday party," you hum, "Without you? And you came here to what? Check that I'm busy?"

"I know you're not busy. Erin told me so, which I suspected anyway. I know it's kind of rude for me to come to force you to spend time with me when you didn't even want to come to my birthday party in the first place, but I thought I would try." he shrugs, "Is that okay?"

Mark is adorned in a white T-shirt and grey joggers. He's clearly not dressed for a party and your member clearly told him that you're staying inside and moping to your comfort show while you try to avoid your ex-boyfriend on his birthday. Plan failed, you guess.

Here's the thing: you've always been the worst at saying no to Mark. The one time you did, the world crashed around you. You would've thought it would have got easier to say no to him after already experiencing the worst-case scenario, but looking into his slightly pleading chocolate eyes shows you otherwise.

"Of course, Mark. You're the birthday boy," you finally say after a period of silence where Mark felt like his heart was thumping out of his chest.

"There's no one else I'd rather spend my birthday with," he hums lightly, even though his words are loaded, "Here, a big bouquet for missing last year too."

The tradition started on his 15th birthday in 2014. Even though it was his birthday, he had got you a bouquet of flowers to thank you for being his best friend of one year and making him feel all the more comfortable in his first year in Korea. You were his dance partner, his classmate, his fellow English speaker, and his best friend. He got you flowers again the next year, then the year after, and again and again for being his partner through everything.

The last birthday you shared with Mark before the two of you broke up was his 20th birthday in 2019 and he had prepared his own bouquet that year, choosing all your favourite flowers and colours and wrapping it all up himself. Mark was selfless like that- thinking of other people even on his birthday.

"It's beautiful," you examine the flowers- pink and red camellias and carnations, white primroses, pink peonies, red roses and baby's breaths. Taking that flower language course with Mark back when you were both 17 comes as a regret now, with the messages he's sending you through the bouquet. You hope it's just a coincidence.

"Anyway, I brought us- or I made my manager buy us- some Oreo ice cream, peanut butter chocolate, some ramen, and chicken and mushroom pastries," he grins as he pulls each one out of the bag, "And I brought cake, obviously."

You hold yourself back from saying what you would say every time he presented your favourite pastry from your childhood home to you- 'you know the way to my heart'.

"I haven't had one in so long," you gasp, taking it from him and preparing your plate already, "Thanks Mark. Why are you so considerate on your own birthday?"

"I like to celebrate the people I love on my birthday too. I wouldn't be me without them," he plops himself on the bar stool at your breakfast bar while you sigh hopelessly. He'll never leave your heart alone, "I wanted to soften the blow too."

You turn to him slowly, "Soften the blow?"

He sees the panic in your eyes and lets out that melodious laugh you've always loved, "Oh, nothing like that. Nothing to tell you. I just wanted to bribe you to talk to me on my birthday. I thought after over a year you might be ready to talk?"

"About what?"

"Us."

You thank the manufacturers of the heavenly pastry slice that only takes 90 seconds in the microwave. You set the plate down in front of Mark and take the seat next to him.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Are you still my best friend?"

"Mark, come on," you began warily, knowing the difficult conversation you were about to have.

He meets your eyes and you feel the pain reflected in them, "When we decided to give our relationship a try when we were 16, we pinky swore that no matter what happens, we'll always be best friends. Always. Right?"

You find the power to break his gaze and stare down to your hands on your lap, "We did."

"So, why can't we go back to being friends? I know, I know when you broke up with me, you said that you don't think we could stay friends. I understood, of course, and I wanted to give you some space. Well, at least initially, but it's been over a year now and I really miss us. Your friendship meant everything to me even if I can't have you as my girlfriend." his tone is heartbreaking in the way that it's vulnerable and pleading.

"I told you when we broke up that breaking up was the hardest choice I'd ever have to make. It blew the choice to leave SM out of the water. I didn't want to break up, but it felt like I had no choice," you explained slowly, "When we first started dating, I knew I already loved you, but growing up together and debuting and going through everything I went through really taught me what real love in real life looked like and I could never have predicted at 16 how I felt for you at 20. Mark, you're everything to me, I hope you know. I said I didn't want to be friends when we broke up because how could I have lived with myself seeing you and talking to you still knowing I had you in the way that I did and knowing I loved you that intensely but not being able to show it anymore? How could I live with myself still having you around knowing I let go of the greatest thing that's ever happened to me?"

Mark Lee was brave at 16 when he kissed you for the first time and asked you to be his girlfriend against all the bans and rules. Mark Lee was brave at 18 watching you walk away from everything you both knew at SM Entertainment and for not running after you to stop you because you both knew it was for the best. Mark Lee was brave at 20 hearing you sob through the phone while you were halfway around the world because you just couldn't do this anymore. Mark Lee is brave at 22, taking your warm hands in his, and Mark Lee is brave when he lifts your chin up to meet his gaze and asks you this:

"Why can't we just get back together? This year apart is hurting us more than it's benefitting us."

People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul- that the eyes say everything someone can't say. Your eyes are filled with tears, yes, but also love and fear and all the emotions in between.

The problem was that your brain always rules your life, keeping your heart's true desires always suppressed deep within.

"Mark," you trail, before he cuts you off.

"I don't see the problem, Y/N. Both our companies knew we were dating and you're not a rookie in the industry anymore. I mean, we dated through your whole rookie era! I acknowledge everything you said and felt when we broke up and I wanted to give you time to work through those emotions, but I'm asking if anything has changed. Has it?"

"I've never stopped loving you, but I'm still scared Mark. I'm even more scared now as your career grows," you say quietly, "I don't want to hurt you. If anything gets out, it won't just hurt you or me, because I could take it if it only hurt me, but it's our members, Mark. You know how fans feel about idols who date and it's never ever as simple as 'if they're a true fan they'll be happy for me'. That's not how the industry works."

He squeezes your hands, "Then we'll get better at sneaking around! You know the boys love you so much and they know how much our relationship meant to me and they'd never ever get in the way of that. Or we can just text and call and I don't even have to see you in person when it's risky. I just want the chance to tell you that I still love you every single day as I promised."

There it is again, the sound of your heart breaking at the most loving boy on the planet.

"Will you let me think about it? At least about being your best friend still? I'm sorry that I can't give you an answer right now on your birthday," you murmur. The confessions from Mark came as no surprise, but he never fails to leave you speechless with no clear thoughts in your brain and your heart always full.

"I'm just asking for a chance. Just for anything you can give me," he smiles finally, "How about we eat all this and continue your Modern Family? It's still my favourite show, so I couldn't dream of a better way to spend my birthday."

"I'd like that."

-

2015

"I'm debuting," Mark barges into the near-empty practice room, huffing and panting like he just ran a marathon, "Y/N, oh my God!"

You're sat cross-legged on the floor with your phone propped up in front of you. Your eyebrows are stitched together tightly, indicating that you were probably either criticising yourself on a recording or trying to learn a choreography. The moment you realise that it's Mark, your whole body unclenches and you relax as you pause the video. You don't comprehend the weight of his words until he says them again.

"Y/N, Y/N, I'm going to debut!" he's practically screaming in joy as he belly slides towards you and crashes into you, wrapping his arms around you.

"Oh my God, Mark! Really? Tell me everything right now!" you squeeze him back, pride bursting in your chest.

When you both joined SM, you came with the obvious dream of being an idol entertainer. Sure, the company can make all these empty promises to you at the start, but with the way the industry works, nothing is really ever truly for certain. For you, the company had not given you any time scale or idea of what direction they wanted you to go in. You weren't even really that hopeful, considering the company just debuted Red Velvet one year ago, but you were still enduring.

However, it was almost time to debut a new boy group since it had been 3 years and counting since EXO broke into the scene. You were always certain that Mark was always a part of that plan.

"So, do you remember last year when I told you about the infinite boy group idea? It was true! The company gathered all the male trainees and showed them their idea- it's called NCT and it's so cool, trust me! So it's like they're going to debut groups within NCT like different members in each group!"

"Mark, that sounds amazing. Which group are you going to be in?"

"Uh, they said all of them?" Mark frowns in confusion, "Like the first is going to be this unit where members can switch out anytime and it only has a comeback whenever it wants to, and then the second one is like a normal permanent group which I think I'll be with Hyuck and the hyungs, and the third one is a group where we graduate once we hit 20! But I don't think that one's fully confirmed with members yet."

He's running out of breath explaining it to you and his eyes are going crazy so you just laugh and hug tighter, "That's a lot of information, but it still sounds amazing. See Mark, I told you that you're going to be the most important person in this building! You're literally the best."

Mark nudges you so that you break away, "Psh, shut up Y/N. It's still a few months out anyway. We're going to be writing and practicing the debut song for the first unit really soon though."

"And I'm so proud of you," you tell him sincerely, knowing that there are not many people who you can say have worked harder than Mark to achieve their dreams, "Do you feel scared at all?"

He swivels his body so that he's sitting in front of you and he starts playing with your fingers like he always does, "Naturally, I guess. Debuting is a whole new world and being an idol too, but this is what I've been working towards so why shouldn't I be more excited? I've been waiting for this day, but I guess it's human nature to have fear of the unknown."

"It's definitely not wrong to not be scared. I'd be over the moon if they finally tell me I'm going to debut," you sigh dreamily.

"And you will! They can't keep you hidden here any longer and you know that the company loves you so much! You've given everything for them so you deserve it all back," Mark is now rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of your hand, "I can't wait until we achieve our dream together. No matter how long it takes, we'll both be standing on that stage together as idols. It's so close now, Y/N."

You smile softly at the boy, ever the optimist, "I can't wait for it too, Mark. Don't let the fame get to your head so quickly and don't forget me when you're famous okay?"

"You're so silly," Mark laughs, "You'll always be my best friend- wait scratch that-"

"I won't always be your best friend?"

"No! You will! But this is literally the best day ever and I have all this adrenaline and energy right now and if I don't say it now, I don't think I ever will, but all I'm saying is that I've been by your side for nearly 3 years now and you're literally my other half and it's so goddamn obvious that I like you so much and I really want to be your boyfriend. Okay, exhale Mark."

Your eyes widen at his confession and you slide away from him in shock, "Wait, really? You like me? You want to be my boyfriend?"

He looks at you like you just grew two heads, "Y/N, that's literally exactly what I said. Do you like me back?"

Shyness begins to creep out of you while your whole face flushes red. You've never been the type to be shy around Mark, even in the times his words and actions make you feel giddy.

"Mhm, you're my first real crush that developed when we met. I thought I'd grow out of it, but it kept getting stronger the closer we got," you admit.

The first day that Mark Lee walked into the practice rooms and got introduced to the trainees, you thought he was the cutest boy in the world. He was dorky and shy at first, but when he performed in front of you, he turned into a completely different person that made you fall for him even more.

The two of you were the same age and he was your deskmate in Korean lessons. Though Mark had grown up speaking Korean, he had never lived in Korea speaking it almost 100% of the time, so the company thought it would be good for him to join your lessons, especially to get training for the language he would be using as an idol.

The two of you became very fast friends and by the end of the month, you were chasing each other in the cafeteria and sharing food in corners with your own inside jokes.

His face breaks out into a grin, tackling you into a hug, "Aw, my little Y/N likes me back!"

You roll your eyes playfully and shove him off your body, "First of all, I'm 3 months older than you, and second of all, you have been spending way too much time with Donghyuck."

"Yeah that little devil rubs off on people," he sighs, "Whatever. Does that mean we're boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

"Wait, wait, wait. We have to consider the implications! Especially if you're debuting soon! Are we going to tell the company? How is this going to work?" you bombard him with questions, playing your part as the realist in this friendship, "Is this a good idea."

"I mean, half the hyungs have secret girlfriends so we can ask them for help and at least it helps that you're in the company with me so if they do find out it's easier to protect the both of us," Mark replies, "I've actually spent a lot of time thinking about this, believe it or not. You keep me up awake at night sometimes."

"You're so cheesy," you mumble, turning away to hide your blushing face, "But I guess I do want to be your girlfriend- but what if we break up? I don't want to lose you as my best friend!"

"How about this then," he extends his pinky out to you, "Let's pinky swear that even if we break up and this relationship goes horribly wrong, we'll be best friends still. Forever and whenever."

His words are dripping with sincerity and it surrounds you like a blanket. There's no one in this world that you trust more than Mark Lee when you entwine your own pink around his and smile at him, "Always."

Your pinkies are still attached a minute later when he's looking at you with a goofy smile.

You glare at him, "What's going on in that big head of yours?"

"If we're dating, then does that mean I can kiss you?"

The thought of kissing Mark had admittedly crossed your mind more than you could bare to say out loud. You wanted to play it off cool- shove him and roll your eyes or something, but truthfully, you really did want to kiss your dorky best friend Mark Lee.

"I mean, I guess," you shrug, "If you want to."

"Ha ha, I do," he starts leaning in closer and your heart is beating faster.

This was it. You were going to kiss your best friend-turned-boyfriend in the middle of a practice room. He was going to be your first kiss too!

Mark's face is so close that you can feel his breath on your lips. You can tell he's never done this before with how slowly and nervously he's advancing, but you can see the hope in his eyes.

Your eyes flutter shut. Your lips are almost touching, just ghosting over each others.

"Wait!" you groan as he opens his mouth, "If I'm your first real crush, then who's your first crush overall?"

You smirk, "Jongin-oppa. Duh."

-

2022

This was the biggest concert of your career. Playing the Olympic Stadium had always just been a distant daydream - something to dream about just to amuse you or occupy time. You'd never thought that you would actually live to see the day when that dream came to fruition.

It wasn't even a realistic dream. No girl groups had ever played their own concert at Jamsil Olympic Stadium, but your group was going to be the first.

Cameras were pointed all around you backstage as you prepared to go on for your opening.

"Leader, give us a pep talk," your bandmate Yana whines while nudging you. You gather in a circle, pretending you're not deafened by the noise of your fans screaming just past the partition, where they're waiting in anticipation.

The 5 of you lean closer, putting your heads together and your hands in the middle. Before that, you make sure to look at their faces carefully and examine each member's expressions.

Jian is a year older than you, but she's nervous as hell and can barely get any words out. You're not worried because she's proven time after time that she's born to be on stage and that she completely transforms in front of an audience showering her in love. Yana seems nervous too, but she's better at hiding it and it comes out through rambles of sometimes unintelligible speech. Erin is gripping her microphone tightly with a poker face, probably recalling all of her raps in her head quickly, even though you know it comes second nature to her. Your youngest, Kali, seems the most excited. That kid is the most fearless idol you've ever met and you're grateful for someone like her on the team.

As for you? Well, you're a mix of all of your members. It's coming up to a decade now since you started training and you still have to take everything that this career throws at you one by one. The feeling backstage is not exactly overwhelming- it's more pride and joy and excitement to be out there and perform the best concert you have to give.

"No one can ever take this away from us. We're the first freaking girl group to host a show here! We've worked so hard for this and we absolutely deserve it. Everyone out there is here for us, so we should give it our all and play the best show ever. Don't let your nerves get to you. Just relax and be the amazing and talented performers I know we all are," you breathe out, "I'm really thankful for you guys and I'm so happy to have you by my side with me for this. We're exactly where we should be. I really love you guys so much. Let's kill it, yeah? 3, 2, 1, Fighting!"

Your members release a chuckle and you all wrap your arms around each other in a group hug. Soon, your cues begin in your in-ear monitors and you break up to take your positions on the platform that will lift you up to the stage.

The concert starts off without a hitch. Everything is perfect and the energy you get as each song progresses is nothing like you've ever felt. The sea of fans is expansive and blinding and you still have to check you're not dreaming every few moments. You eventually settle into the stage and the concert slows down a bit with your solo performances.

Your company had encouraged you all to perform something of your own choosing and while you had a vast repertoire of songs tucked away on your GarageBand, they were mostly unfinished, too personal or waiting to be adapted to your group to go onto your future albums. The song had to be something that would only ever be just for you, but something you could bare to release into the world for everyone else to hear.

Okay, so maybe you let your emotions rule you and get the best of you. Maybe the song you chose was the wrong one to invite your fans to insert themselves into. Maybe it was too personal to sing a song about Mark Lee in front of the biggest crowd you'd ever played in your life, but when else could you?

The baby grand piano is gleaming in the centre of the stage and your blue dress is sparkling from the way the lights hit the crystals adorning the whole slip. You're admittedly more nervous about this, but you think it's more to do with the fact that you know Mark Lee is in the stadium, somewhere.

Your company had warned you that if you wanted to sing this song, you had to do a little speech before that would throw them off your scent, "Hi guys," you pause for their screams, "I know you guys enjoyed Kali's energetic dance and Jian's amazing original song! For my segment, I thought we could have a little chill time and not to dampen your spirits, but I wanted to show you guys this heartbreak track that I wrote after watching too many sad rom-coms. I really hope that none of you guys can relate and if anyone ever breaks your heart, just send them my way, okay? I hope you guys enjoy it. This is '21'."

You let out a deep breath and remind yourself that this was the right choice. Your fingers glide over the keys perfectly like it's muscle memory from the year you've been working on the song. You send a prayer to higher beings that Mark won't kill you as you begin the first lines.

"I missed your 21st birthday. I've been up at home; almost tried to call you, don't know if I should. Hate to picture you half-drunk, happy. Hate to think you went out without me. I'm sorry if you blame me, if I were you I would. Thought you'd see it coming, but you never could. I still haven't heard from your family, but you said your mom always loved me."

Mark celebrated your 21st birthday with you. Public dates were not a thing in your relationship, but this man made every effort to make the best out of your situation. He kicked out your members from your dorm after enlisting their help to decorate the place top to bottom in rose gold banners and balloons. After taking cooking lessons for weeks previously, he had then covered your dining table with expensive cloth and filled up two glasses with wine to go with the steak that he had perfectly cooked all for you. He then took you to the couch and serenaded you with a love song about how much you mean to him and how thankful he was for you. On top of all that, you had boxes and boxes of presents to unwrap that were all thoughtful, beautiful, or meaningful. Mark Lee was the perfect boyfriend.

For Mark's 21st birthday, you were sat cross-legged on your sofa with your phone placed on the table in front of you, face up. It was as if you were waiting for him to be the one to call when you were the one who broke his heart just a few weeks earlier and asked to not be friends.

You were drinking the wine that he poured for you on your birthday and you were half-drunk, punching in his number on your keypad, because even though you deleted his number, you already knew it off by heart. There was just something in you that refused to carry it through. You were a coward and Mark Lee celebrated his birthday without you for the first time in 7 years.

"I see the look in your eye and I'm biting my tongue. You were the love of my life since I was young. When the night is over, don't call me up I'm already under. I get a little bit alone sometimes and I miss you again. I'll be the love of your life inside your head. When the night is over, don't call me up I'm already under."

Later on that night, you're lying wide awake and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that you and Mark had decided to plaster all around your ceiling when you were bored one day. The crowd seemed to love the song thankfully and it was easy to get their energy back up. People placed meaning into everything idols did, so you weren't surprised at the people who were making guesses about your love life and the subject of the song. Whatever, they'd never get it right, anyway.

Your phone ringing cuts through the silence and you curse, hoping it won't wake up the other girls in the dorm. They're probably dead asleep from the high-energy concert anyway.

"You're still up?" his voice is grainy through the speaker.

"You're the one that called. Did you not want me to answer?" you quip back, "It's the adrenaline, I think."

"Touché. I was going to leave a voicemail, but this is better, I guess," Mark uttered, "The concert was amazing, by the way. I'm sorry we didn't come and say hello backstage, but we really enjoyed it."

"Thanks, Mark and thank the boys for me too, okay?" you instruct.

"Mhmm, of course," he replies, "That song you wrote was good, you know. But you might've as well called it 'Mark'."

You're laughing softly at his comment, "I should've changed the number, I know. But shut up- if you know it's for you, then why don't you follow my words? I said don't call me tonight."

"I've never been good at following rules when it comes to you," Mark sighs, "Plus, there's not a lot of times I can just call you up like this. At least I had something to say to you."

"You can always call if you want."

"Would you always answer?"

You pause to think, but Mark takes that as confirmation.

"Have you thought about what I said? 6 months ago when I asked if you wanted to be friends again? Or even get back together?"

"That question keeps me awake every night," you joke, "But today, when I was just looking out at the fans and greeting the idols that came backstage after the concert, it really made me think about how much I wanted to be doing all of this with you. I've always regretted what happened between us because it wasn't a choice I wanted to make. There are no words to describe the way that love manifests in front of you from the fans. I always find myself wishing you were still here by my side."

"Hm, cryptic. Is that an answer to my question or do I have to wait another 6 months to call you up and ask again?"

"How long are you going to keep asking?" you uttered, the feeling of disappointment taking over your body as you still couldn't find the courage to finally give in and allow yourself to be happy.

"Until you say yes again."

-

JULY 2020

The world was still shut as you knew it, yet you were halfway around the world from the place you grew to call home. Your company was generous to give you two months off to spend with your loved ones, and you chose to spend some time cooped up in your parents' house and your childhood home because even though there were so many quarantining requirements to get between the two countries, you hadn't seen your parents in almost 3 years.

Of course, you missed your members, but you lived with them and would continue to see them nearly every day for as long as you could keep your career going. Of course, you missed Mark, but it's not like you could go and see him anyway with the tough restrictions imposed on the Korean citizens.

There was also one big- scratch that- giant problem looming over your and your company's heads. The bane of your existence and public enemy number 1 Dispatch had dangled over your heads the threat of releasing the photos they had grabbed of you and Mark abroad in Vancouver at the start of the year. It wouldn't have been damning evidence considering it was the only photo set they had acquired of the two of you, but you were holding hands with your eyes clearly in view. 

Your companies had threatened to sue, of course, but Dispatch has never been scared. Then, your companies tried to play the guilt-trip card and interrogate them on why they would care to do such a thing when the world was suffering enough as it is. Alas, nothing got through to Dispatch. Eventually, your companies surrendered to pay a preposterous amount to get rid of the problem and it probably didn't even make a dent in SM's savings, but it surely hurt your growing but small company even if SM took the majority of the bill. 

It was completely eating you up and tearing your insides to know that because of your slip-up with Mark, the trainees in your company had to get their debut pushed back by a good probable few years.

Mark had been the perfect boyfriend, supporting you through your change to your new company and your short training period before your debut. Mark had been there to metaphorically hold your hand as you got to know the other girls and make lifelong sister bonds out of it. Mark had been there to cheer you on in the early mornings when you were doing your first few stages. Mark had been there when your first comeback did even better than your debut and propelled you to the top of the industry.

So why, oh why, were you thinking about whether being together is good for everyone involved? There you found yourself in a dark room, the phone next to your head as soft cries and hiccups escaped your lips.

"Baby, please tell me what's wrong. I hate when you cry and it's really hurting me that I'm not there with you right now. Do you want me to come there? Cause I will! I'll say I'm sick or something." he's rambling through the phone and you can hear that it's raining heavily in Seoul.

"Mark, you know that I love you right?"

"Of course I do," he coos gently, "And you're my once-in-a-lifetime great love. I love you too, baby. What's wrong?"

You don't even believe the words that come out of your mouth when you whisper them, "I can't do this anymore Mark. I think we need to break up."

"What? Y/N, this is not funny," his voice instantly turns serious.

"I'm sorry Mark, but I'm serious," you're sobbing at this point and you're surprised he can even still understand you, "I really don't want to do this but-"

"So why are you doing this? Look, let's just talk when you get back, okay? You're coming home soon, right? Or I can take a flight there, but baby, don't make these rash decisions- we're just missing each other."

"The guilt is eating me up, Mark," you confess in hushed tones, "I feel like I don't deserve to be happy. And every time I'm with you, I feel only this sense of anxiety about being caught together that I can't shake. I love you so much, Mark, but I don't know why I feel like this."

"Y/N, we've dealt with so much over the years and we've fought through everything together! We can work through this together, I promise. Just give me some time to think about what to do and everything will be okay-" he's crying now too and it breaks your heart to hear it because he barely ever cries, "I'll get the company to pay yours back what you paid to those assholes. Come on, baby."

"Mark," you whimper, "I ruined the company. I don't want to hurt my members either. Even if we admit to dating, imagine the hate that my group will face! I don't want to let them down any more than I already have."

"I'll tell the fans to not hate- Y/N just tell me what I can do to stop whatever this break-up idea in your head is. We're meant to be, Y/N. We're each other's perfect match."

"I don't love you any less, Mark. Please remember that. I need to do this for my members and for my company that took a leap of faith in me. I don't want to walk away from you, but I don't see any other choice. I don't want to hurt you or your members either. I can't be seen with you."

His voice is small and strained, "You're breaking my heart, Y/N."

"And I'm never going to forgive myself for it."

-

EARLY 2018

This was definitely the hardest decision of your life and it wasn't one that you took lightly either. It was something you had been thinking about for over a year and more intensely when the company started to press you on extending your exclusive training contract.

Herin Seo had entered SM just before you did and she lived and trained with you. She was your best friend outside of Mark and it broke your heart when she left the company only after 4 years in 2017. There were only a few months left on her contract, but she was desperate to get an out and an idol survival show finally gave her the motivation to break free.

Right now, she's taking the seat in front of you after setting down your favourite drinks from your favourite cafe that she still remembers, "Iced vanilla matcha latte for me and an iced oat latte for my best friend."

"You're the best Herin! My treat next time," you promise as you take the first sip. It's been a while since you've come to the café since it hurts to go when it used to be your spot with Herin.

"Well better be soon because I'm leaving in 5 days," she pouts, "I'm sorry I could only come to visit for a short time."

"It's okay. I'm glad to see you anyway after all these months," you grin, "How's settling back in Manchester?"

"I mean it's always been home but it took me a few months to really get to grips with the fact that I wasn't leaving after a week like I did when I would visit during my training. It's really weird to know England is now my permanent home and that I'm going to start school again there," she looks outside the large window that overlooks the river, "I really really miss Seoul."

You take her hand and muster your best comforting smile, "I'm really sorry that things didn't turn out how we wanted them to."

"Ha, it's not your fault Y/N. I mean, you're in the same boat; what are you planning to do with this contract thing?"

You sigh at the age-old question that's been plaguing your mind for months. In fact, your meeting with the company to decide your future was tomorrow and you still had no concrete idea of what you wanted, "I really don't know Herin. SM has been everything I've known for 5 years and everyone I love is at the company. I don't even know how to switch agencies or what happens at other agencies. At the same time, I know they're planning for a group soon, but I have this feeling that I can't shake when I think about it. I look at Jimin and Minjeong and my sweet baby Yizhou and I don't think I'm what the company wants."

"But they've invested so much time and money into you!" Herin furrows her eyebrows, "Surely they're building a group around you, Yizhuo, Koeun, Lami, and Hina! We were a pre-debut team! They can't just disregard all of you guys, right?"

"I wouldn't put it past them," you're fiddling nervously with your hands, "They've been good to me, but they're a business at the end of the day. I'm so torn up and I was thinking you could help me. How did you know that you wanted to leave the company?"

She thinks for a while before answering your question, "Well the survival show was just the reason why I left before my contract was up, but I already knew that I wasn't going to stay on and re-sign. For me, it just felt like I had more to give, but the environment I was in wasn't letting me grow anymore. I felt like there was nothing more I could give to SM. Even though Idol School didn't work out for me, I was still glad that I went."

You nod along to her story, "I haven't told anyone about this Herin. Mark's been bugging me about my terms for re-signing my contract, so I don't think it's even fathomable for him for me to leave."

"It's about you, Y/N. This is your story, your career, and your decision. There are going to be a lot of people that are going to be hurt or angry, but they will never understand what you're going through. Especially not the people who already debuted," Herin advises, "Look, talk about it with Mark tonight, and don't leave it until after your meeting because that might hurt more, but if he really loved you and wanted what's best for you, he would trust in your decision."

"You're right Herin. Thanks for being there for me."

So, you called Mark later on that night to come over. You had cooked up a few dishes for you to share and asked your dorm mates if they could give you a few hours for some alone time. Telling Mark was definitely going to be hard, but you couldn't imagine the conversation with the girls, who were going to be the most hurt. You remember when Herin left- you weren't angry, but you were overwhelmingly sad about the thought of the girl you started your journey with not being there anymore. That was when you started to question if you should still be there too, but you were scared to instill this thought in your other younger trainees that maybe thought they still had a chance.

"Hi baby," Mark is beaming when you open the door to him. He quickly shuts the door behind him with his foot and wraps you up in a tight hug, making sure to plant a kiss on your lips and then all over your face, "I missed your gorgeous face so much- oh my God the apartment smells so good! What did you cook?"

"Just some beef and rice," you lead him over to the dining table with the food set out already.

"Oh my gosh, you're so amazing," Mark smooches your cheek affectionately and takes his seat on the table. You had lived at the dorm for your whole time at SM and along the way, Mark had chosen his own seat at your dining table for when you had dinners inside, which was almost every date you shared.

You start with small talk, letting him eat and enjoy his meal before you inevitably break a little bit of his precious heart. You hadn't seen Mark for a few days since he was busy with some schedules, so he tells you all about the boys and what they've been up to recently. They're working on the biggest project NCT has ever done so far- a full 18-member release- and it's going spectacularly well. The album itself was a few weeks out, but each unit had been dropping some songs along the way.

"Babe, the company is throwing a release party when the album drops in a few weeks! Isn't that so exciting? They actually asked us what food we want at the party so we're all going crazy. I think Hyuck asked for a fondue fountain, so I'm dying to see if they'll actually give that," he's chuckling, halfway through his plate, "Do you have any special requests?"

Okay, deep breath. Now's the time. It's all or nothing.

"Actually Mark, I invited you over to talk about something," you begin and the smile on his face drops at your warning tone, "Please don't be upset with me."

"Ah, what's wrong?" he's pouting and you have to look away to get the strength to say what you need to. If you looked in his eyes any longer, you would find some reason to convince you to stay just for him.

"My contract meeting is tomorrow," you gulp, "I'm going to leave the company, Mark."

The sound of his chair scraping against the floor makes you cringe, "What? Y/N, what? What do you mean you're leaving the company? Where are you going to go? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just made up my mind today, Mark. I'm sorry I didn't confide in you, but this was a decision I had to make for myself," tears are welling up along your lash line, "I spoke to Herin today and I realised that the only thing making me stay any longer was you."

"But you're so close to debut!" he's arguing pleadingly, crouching beside you and holding your hand, "Babe, I can't imagine this company without you."

"I'm not Mark. You know that I'm not any closer to debut than I was when I joined 5 years ago. You're indispensable to this company, but I'm really not," you expressed, "I don't want to leave and I love you, your boys, and my girls, but I think this is what's best for me."

"But where are you going to go?" Mark sniffles, "I love you so much Y/N, but what's going to happen to us?"

You shake your head at his insinuations, "No, Mark. Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to us and I'll make sure that whatever company I join will know about us and protect us. I hope you'll find it in you to forgive me for this."

He stands up and wraps his arms around you from above, "I'm sorry for reacting this way Y/N, but there's nothing for you to be sorry for. I trust you, okay? I love you and I want you to do what's best for you. I know I can't make decisions for you, but I'll try my best to support you however I can."

You look up at him with adoration dripping from your eyes, "I love you, Mark. We're going to be okay, yeah?"

He brings his head down and connects your lips in the most love-filled way that your heart explodes in that familiar overwhelming feeling that Mark always seems to do to you, "We're going to be okay, baby."

-

LATE 2022

The world was playing a sick joke on you- it really was. There was no way your whole career wasn't just some April Fools' prank or that you weren't just the main target of some joke show.

You always prided yourself on being close with the company's staff and higher-ups. As a leader of your group, you felt that it was integral to your success that you were able to communicate your wishes and worries to the company and this gave you more creative freedom too. Apparently, the company too was getting more comfortable with you.

"What did you just say?" your eyes were incredulous, peering towards your sheepish CEO, "That's actually the worst idea I've ever heard in my life."

"Look, Y/N, you wanted a feature on your song," your CEO chuckles at your response, "I think this is an amazing idea."

"You're literally giving Dispatch a green light to release those photos. Do you want me to email you a picture of me and Mark making out so you can just tweet it from the official account?" you counter, "Why in the hell would having my ex-boyfriend feature on my solo debut title track be anything short of a terrible idea?"

"Mark is incredibly famous and incredibly talented," she begins, counting with her fingers, "You have high standards. We have a good relationship with SM Entertainment. Your fans love shipping the two of you together since you're in the same age group."

"He's also my ex-boyfriend. Is that not extremely problematic? Everyone will hyper analyse every interaction we have or have had and then they're actually going to figure out that we dated." you ponder, "The worst part of this all is that I know he would say yes if his company lets him."

"Exactly- he's your ex-boyfriend, not your current one. By all logic, he's now just another fellow idol or colleague that you can collaborate with. Anyway, SM will definitely say yes; look how many of their idols are in relationships or at least feature on tracks."

"This is all Crush and Joy's fault," you groan, looking at the pleased expression on your CEO's face knowing that she had won the argument.

When your company proposed the idea of having a solo debut to you half a year ago, you had vehemently declined the opportunity, citing it wouldn't be beneficial to your group as a whole and that you wanted to be known for your group and not your individuality. Your members, on the other hand, had different ideas and talked you into at least hearing out the company. You had really only agreed to the debut when they told you that they would give you full musical freedom and the help that you personally requested. It only seemed like a good idea when you realised that someone in the group needs to be the one to start doing solo activities so the rest of the group can follow suit. You've always known that Jian has been curious about acting.

So you find yourself swiveling in your chair in the studio, waiting for Mark to find his way to the room. It's your first time working together for your solo debut and the last time you had spoken to him was a text he sent you asking if you actually wanted him to feature on the track before he gave a response to his company. You begrudgingly replied a yes because even though you still didn't think it was a good idea, you couldn't imagine yourself working with anyone other than Mark. The industry was crazy sometimes.

The knocking on the door snapped you out of your thoughts and you jumped up to open it to Mark Lee holding two cups on the other side.

"Hey pretty. I got us some coffee," he pushes a cup into your hand and you move aside to let him in, "How are you?"

"Don't call me pretty," you mumble as you turn away to hide the blush starting to appear on your cheeks, "But I'm okay. It's getting busier with the holidays coming up, so you know how that is, but the company thought this time was a great time to work on my debut."

"I feel you," Mark grimaces, taking a seat on the other spinning chair, "Don't tell anyone but Dream is actually having another comeback. It's going to be out just before Christmas."

"Another one?" your eyes widen in shock, "But you just released 2 Baddies and I know you definitely have a repackage soon!"

"Yeah, it's hard to be part of both units," he sighs, "Cause our new album will be over 6 months out from Beatbox, but only 3 months from 2 Baddies. Whatever, you know I love what I do."

"Doesn't mean you don't get tired," you cross your arms, "Now I feel bad having you on this track. You are way too busy, Mark! Why didn't you or your company say no?"

He shakes his head to reassure you, "Nah, trust me Y/N; you're exactly the break I need from the boys. Besides, I've never had the chance to formally work with you, so why would I give up the opportunity when it comes? We always made a great team back then."

You smile fondly, thinking about all those times when you and Mark were young teenagers and would huddle up in the practice rooms writing songs together and creating melodies on your guitars.

"I guess we did. Anyway, have a listen to this track. It's just something I wrote a while ago, but it always seemed unfinished so I thought that a feature would complete it," you hand him a pair of headphones and gesture over to your laptop with the track already loaded up, "If you like it, you can do your part in the second verse, but otherwise we can start from scratch."

You watch his face as he listens to the song and you're endeared to find out he still carries the same habit of letting his face do all the talking whenever he's listening to something new. His head is bobbing up and down as he nods along to the song and you can easily tell which parts he likes.

"So, what do you think?" you inquire.

He has a grin on his face, "I love it! Honestly! It's a cute song about a crush, I guess?"

"Yeah, I didn't want to go with any song that's lyrically strong for my debut. This song's pretty unassuming and you know how important it is to the companies to have a general public-friendly song," you shrug. They didn't really explicitly give you guidelines, but you knew what the company was really looking for- a hit, "Can you work with that beat? I'll send you the song of course and you don't have to rush or anything."

"I'll see what I can do," Mark teases, "Can I get an insider sneak peek at the rest of the album? You know, feature perks and all of that."

You flush even redder than when he complimented you earlier, "I'm going to be so honest Mark, the whole album is about you. Every song I've written is about you."

He shrugs casually, "I would've figured. You're a big inspiration to my writing too. Is that a no, then?"

You decide that there was no point shying away from Mark's request, considering that he would end up hearing each and every song whenever your album came out anyway. Plus, the two of you were artists and you understood being each others' muse- good or bad. Mark had seen you in every vulnerable state possible. Showing him your songs that you were comfortable enough to release to the public anyway was nothing to you.

"You can listen."

You don't bother giving Mark any explanations for any song- he's the one that lived through these experiences with you. You leave him with your tracklist on the laptop and tell him you would leave him for a few moments to grab some lunch for the two of you in the company cafeteria. You were hoping it was going to be a quick trip down and back up, but you had run into a producer you were also working with on the album, and that gave Mark at least 5 songs worth of time alone.

What you hadn't expected upon returning was to find Mark crying softly, his sweater paws rubbing at his eyes.

"Mark? Are you crying?"

Your surprise caused him to jump up and frantically wipe away his tears, "Ha. That's a really sad album, huh?"

The guilt continues to eat you up from the inside out, "I'm not going to release all of them, I think. A few sad songs and fill the rest in with inconspicuous tracks."

"Well your songs are beautiful anyway," he gives you a pained smile, "You're an amazing writer. I just wish I wasn't the cause of your pain."

"Hey," you scold softly, bumping his arm with yours, "Don't say that. You were nothing but amazing to me. You made me so happy. It was just the circumstances around us."

He chuckled bitterly to himself, "If we weren't famous- if this industry wasn't so vicious, I would still have you?"

"Mark," you warn, but he cuts you off.

"Have you thought about what I asked you?" he interrupts, "It's been a year, you know? I still miss you."

"Mark, it's not that easy," you counter, "Nothing's changed!"

"It's either you want to be with me or you don't. Don't skirt around it and just tell me the truth, okay? It would really make working together easier if I know where we stand. I won't stop fighting for us until you tell me to stop, so tell me what you want, Y/N," Mark pleads, standing up to face you, "I'm sorry for springing it out of nowhere, but I need to know. I can't move on until I know to let you go."

You hate yourself for what you did to Mark. He was the boy that taught you how to love and how to love patiently, sincerely, and passionately. He was the boy that held your hand and rubbed your back when you cried and the boy that celebrated every success with you. He was the boy that told you how proud he was of you, even every time you felt like the world was collapsing around you. He was the boy who would lay kisses on your forehead and whisper sweet nothings in your ear whenever you faced another setback. He was the boy that made flowers bloom out of your heart from his kind gestures and the way he showed you how much he loved you. And if nothing else, Mark was the boy that made you happy.

You remember a conversation with your youngest member the night before. You had confided in her how nervous you were to work with Mark and she lectured you on finally letting yourself be happy. You were already a 4-year idol and Mark was coming onto 7 years. You weren't rookies anymore and you had solid fanbases. It was clear that the companies weren't extremely opposed to revealing that the two of you were dating back then, so she told you that it would be fine now. Kali told you, rather cliché-ly, that the heart wants what it wants and your heart has been screaming and begging from Mark since the second you ended that phone call with him all those years ago.

"Y/N?"

"Mark," you meet his eyes and melt all over again, "It's you, Mark."

Mark wraps one arm around your waist and pulls you tighter. The other hand reaches up to your face to brush your hair out of your face and cradle your cheek as he brings it up to his own face. Your noses are almost touching as Mark lays it all bare for you, "Do you love me or do you not, Y/N?"

"I do," the feeling is cathartic when you finally tell him and when he finally presses his lips in a searing kiss that sets off all the fireworks in your heart. The feeling of Mark is familiar, but the kiss is longing and hopeful and you can't get enough.

You're both panting when he breaks the kiss and he rests his forehead against yours as he laughs softly in relief. He's been waiting to do that for over 2 years.

"I need you back, Y/N. It's been the worst 2 years of my life," he whispers against your lips, "Please come back."

You smile when he opens his eyes. They're that shade you grew to love all those years ago and they're sparkling like the day he first asked you to be his girlfriend.

Nothing's changed in your environment, that's for sure. What you're also sure about is that each time you see Mark again, you feel a little braver and more courageous. Each time Mark tells you that he loves you even though you shattered his heart like glass, you feel like his love can get you through anything. Maybe you needed those 2 years to see what you were missing or maybe you were just stupid.

Whatever. All you know now is that even 2 years on, Mark Lee is still begging for your love and your brain is losing out in its battle against your heart. It might've taken you two years, but now you see that all you need is Mark Lee by your side to get through the torrential storm that was heading your way and that you were going to get out on the other side to a bright and sunny sky, as long as he was holding your hand and leading you.

You place a kiss on his lips that tells him all he needs to know, "I'm here, Mark. It's always been you. You've always been the one. Always."

[qui-gg]

that one post you made about lightbulb and how she made up her entire relationship with paintbrush until ep12 made me like her character a lot more soo has ur thoughts and opinions on lightbulb and maybe paintbrush changed since episode 15??

Thank you for this question and it definitely has, it’s just been taking me a bit to think and format into words exactly how to say this! But with ii16 releasing soon i should go through this now, so be prepared for a ramble.

Since i’ve made that post, I’ve gone through a few more realizations about the preexisting material itself. I should say it’s a bit dramatized when I said she made up the ENTIRE relationship- there was obviously something there since they’d known each other for a very long time, after all Paintbrush does say “we’re STILL friends”, but she moreso took it and ran with it to a level it was never at. I’ve never properly talked about my feelings on Alternate Reality Show here? But it’s my favorite episode and I have TOO MUCH to say. I’ll be bringing up key parts of my analysis though since this is about 15.

This episode features Lightbulb’s elimination, and so evidently that means it should be seeking a way to properly wrap up her story. It’s not the total focus of the episode, and neither is she the main character (she already had that in 12), but I think it was handled the best way it could have been. Initially when I watched the elimination in the Chicago theater (slack jawed and having my heart broken I was cosplaying Lightbulb😢) there was a lot running in my mind but the fact Lightbulb’s expectations had been subverted in the very best way was on the forefront. Leading up to 15, there was a lot of extra material released that pointed towards hyping up Lightbulb. She’s a very popular character so the average fan’s expectation is exactly what she mentioned in the episode, that she’d win for her team. The exit interviews of the flying buddies ALL point towards their expectations of Lightbulb to win- which I think was SO clever and must’ve been intentional. Lightbulb likely hasn’t seen these interviews, but I think on a meta level it’s for us to see and then Judge Lightbulb’s reaction to those expectations. Because as she does, she takes something as friendly and simple as what Test Tube said to her at the end of 14 and blew it out of proportion. Her friends are giving her encouragement to win of course, because that’s the nice thing to say and do when your friend is in a competition! But as we learn from 12, Lightbulb is seeking more from the game than just the game. She’s here for relationships first and foremost. And, we see that she has so much more of a thought process beneath the surface than we initially expect, that she is very observant and aware of her own feelings and others and takes that into account which presents as her backwards intentions in her quirky behavior, the stuff she does that doesn’t seem to make sense all has meaning. (We also see this exerted in one of my favorite Lightbulb appearances, the Jacknjellify upload of the 2022 meetup short, where there’s a scene of her in her own head through the situation. She recognizes she’s failing an interaction, gets insecure about it, and we see her make up a quirky lie in real time! It’s incredibly important LB material) She just prefers to distract herself from them the more intense they get because when things get more serious it is hard for her to be taken seriously or believe that she could be. And Test Tube is very important to all of this despite not speaking in 15 because Lightbulb’s relationship with her was one of the first that became Real. Test Tube recognized that Lightbulb was struggling most prominently as she alone had been on that journey with her and had that talk, she knew her heart wasn’t in the game for a long time. Which affects her actions towards her in 15! But I’ll get to that in a bit. The point i’m trying to make here is that it is the PERFECT SUBVERSION of audience expectations, that Lightbulb would be willing to win for her team, to reveal that instead she just wanted to go home and be with her friends. She had built up those expectations for herself too and thought EVERYONE (both her friends and on a metatextual level, the real fans) would be disappointed in her for feeling that way but it’s something you can see if you’re looking! Her reactions to all the flying buddies’ eliminations, in the 14 stream there’s a discussion about how she’s not doing well at all being all alone, She just disguised it! As usual! And punished herself for feeling different. And I need to emphasize IT IS THE PERFECT WAY TO GO TO ELIMINATE HER VIA LIE DETECTOR. That was one of the coolest things to me. LIGHTBULB, WHOSE FATAL FLAW IS THAT SHE CANNOT SAY WHAT SHE’S FEELING COMPLETELY STRAIGHT OR HONESTLY, WHO NEVER MAKES SENSE, is forced to fight for a position she doesn’t believe she deserves on a lie detector. My little analytical heart knew as soon as the challenge was revealed she was out. But again, the way it all played out was subversive in just the right way and accurate to her character and I couldn’t be more thankful.

Now it’s time for me to address the Lightbrush elephant in the room. I think Brian said it best on the Jazzy ii15 stream- why does a relationship need to be romantic in order for it to be special? There’s a lot there that is written into the show as is that doesn’t need a kiss scene to suddenly make it pay off or matter. So in this analysis i’m not here for Lightbrush at all. It’s best appropriate to look at it from the lens of a platonic friendship as it was intentionally written and portrayed in the show itself, not to speculate on things that aren’t there.

(Plus, i’m less of a fan of the ship these days. My relationship with it is complicated. I just adore Lightbulb and Paintbrush as characters too much)

Obviously it had to be Paintbrush who responded to the emergency signal. It wouldn’t make sense thematically for it to be anyone else. It was revealed by Brian on a few streams that Test Tube chose to tell Paintbrush to go answer the signal intentionally to help Lightbulb out, knowing that she was missing them and her heart was not in the game. I think it speaks to the strength of the flying buddies that they’re able to read each other like this! In III, we come to understand this is how Paintbrush was feeling after their elimination in 12 and solidified in their season 3 elimination, Their heart wasn’t in the game without meaningful relationships. Both of them were just seeking connection the entire time they were apart, and I think this has to go back to what I said in the post you mentioned that she made up their entire relationship with them. They both had a lot of regrets about the way their friendship worked before their first real connection in 12 before being separated, and spent so much time dwelling on how they could repair that but weren’t able to yet. So now that they have to chance to build that up again together they’re going to take it. I think the talk with her between Baseball Knife and Suitcase at the start of 15 is indicative of this as well, she questions Baseball about voting out Paintbrush, something she never previously expressed any anger about. But she’s not angry, she just has been thinking about it more. And also, that scene is incredible because I fully expected Lightbulb to be alone and misunderstood by the Grand Slams because they saw none of her development and hardly understood her but they approached her to see if she was doing okay and I was surprised! Very much a necessary step towards her decision in the end.

It is INCREDIBLY difficult for Lightbulb to be straightforward. When she’s clicking the pen that’s a coping mechanismmm and when she’s FORCED to say outright “I’m scared, and I need help.” That’s painful for her. Unnatural. Her behavior and method of presenting herself through quirks can’t just be turned off, it’s baked into who she is. And she doesn’t need to change that, she just needs to be seen and recognized and taken seriously anyway. Which makes it perfect when she chooses to eliminate herself with what else but a lie. It’s too hard for her to say “I don’t want to be here. I want to go back and stay with you all”, so she tests her resolve once and for all despite knowing in her heart she just wants to leave with them. She’s not giving up a million dollars just to go be with Paintbrush and I think that take is a bit degrading towards her character- This decision holds a lot of weight to her and the audience who expected a lot from her over the four years of buildup to her appearance here. But everything I mentioned previously built up to this choice, plus the point Taco had been making about leaving the game spoke to her but she chose to leave in her own way, not for the reasons Taco thought she should. And we see also at the end of the episode “today I think an old friend tried to show us she’s drowning” despite being scared of her earlier in the episode SHE STILL SEES TACO AS AN OLD FRIEND FROM SEASON 1! It’s so good that Lightbulb says that line so juicy. But that goes to show again Lightbulb is extremely observant of others. Also i love all of the ocean lingo and theming with her. I should post the Baxter essay sometime. ANYWAY! The point is Lightbulb didn’t make this choice lightly, she’s been toiling with it for three episodes now. She missed “her crew”. And she was always here for relationships and fun, not for the money or the game. She finally built something, and now she just wants to lay with it. She’s earned her rest.

I also need to mention the Dunce hat. Oh my god. Her exiting the show with a Label announcing her as an idiot, a perception so so many have of her and within the show, her friends previously had of her, but she doesn’t care because there are people who see through that, who see her! Sure she might not be understood by everyone for the way she is, but there are special people in her life who do. Lightbulb is such an incredible character.

I tried to keep this brief but of course it isn’t!! And this still feels like I haven’t said enough. But yes 15 was very good for Lightbulb and a great way to wrap up her story- even if it’s not technically over yet! We’ll see what happens in the movie. Thank you for reading this far!

[qqueenofhades]

what gets me is whenever any of these people says not to vote, and you ask them what the alternative is, they usually throw some tantrum about how it shouldn't be their job to fix this country and they're not expected to know (or start calling you a neoliberal or a bootlicker lmao) and i just. i don't get that? not voting, especially in the current climate, is a big deal. i don't think it's unreasonable to ask anyone who advocates for that what the alternative is. i'm not expecting you, online leftist, to magically know how to fix everything. i am expecting something from you if you're gonna tell me not to vote, especially when we both know that helps the gop. like, how dare we ask them to defend this big choice they're telling us to make?

their position boils down to helping trump and the republicans but any time you remind them of that they get upset. what is the alternative? what plan do they have? it would be one thing if there was another option that they'd come up with, but they haven't and don't seem interested in doing so. mutual aid and organizing is only going to take us so far and it'll be a hell of a lot easier to do it with biden in office than trump

The whole "it doesn't matter who's president/in charge of the government because mutual aid and organizing is the only valid way to do community engagement" is the leftist version of the Brexit nutcases who, and I swear I am not making this up, argued that it was fine if the UK left the EU trading sphere/single market/customs union with nothing to replace it, because "Britain is a nation of farmers and can grow food in our back gardens!!!!" Yes, because you're so devoted to your stupid ideology that you think the large-scale collapse of society, a major world power, a western democracy, and everything else will have no effect, and you can just do your little Facebook mutual aid groups and happily shout on Twitter at anyone who disagrees with you. Never mind the fact that this would obviously and immediately harm vulnerable people the most and that nobody, not even the Online Leftists themselves, actually wants to live in the Violent Revolution Total Anarchy World they masturbate to. Maybe this makes me a neoliberal corporate shill, but I'd rather that the world got better, instead of worse. I would actually prefer that myself, my friends, my family, my whole life, the whole country, and the rest of the world wasn't sacrificed on the Great Revolution Altar, but I shouldn't worry. We have mutual aid. At least as long as a) you have never said anything the Online Leftists even slightly disagree with, since they're sure as hell not the kind of people I would trust to have my back in any large-scale societal collapse, and b) I guess they'll all be growing food in their back gardens too, rather than using any of those dirty "government" or "society" things to supply their basic needs. We're saved! No need to worry. Bring on the anarchy.

Aside from the fact that Online Leftists, as I have said before, think that moral action begins and ends with posting the Right Opinions on social media at the correct timeframe and any other action or engagement with a flawed system or basic reality is heresy, they don't like being challenged -- i.e. "if we don't vote, then what do we do?" -- because a) it questions their authority as supreme arbiters of morality, and b) it means that there should actually be an action in place of cutting out something so consequential as voting, which likewise clashes with their "everything will be fixed by Magical Thinking" viewpoint. They don't want to be asked what to do in place of voting, or in anything at all; they want to think their correct thoughts and judge anyone who doesn't, regardless of how logically incoherent these things are or the inevitable outcome of those decisions, because nothing bad is ever their fault, or even the Republicans' fault, or anyone else at all except for the Democrats and/or "the West." I mean, yeah, if they're going around to preach the Don't Vote Because It's Actually Evil gospel, it's the bare fucking minimum to expect that they have something to offer in return besides Ye Olde Bolshevik cosplay fantasies. Since they don't, they get tetchy when you point that out.

Also, while I know it's the social media fashion that everything has to be the worst thing ever and we have plenty of the "Biden is also a genocidal fascist but I guess vote for him or something" utterly-minimum-standard posts going around, I will point out why that rhetoric is a) wrong and b) unhelpful. (Not that I expect it will make a single difference to anyone who has to get their internet cred by yelling about how Biden is a fascist, but still.) No, Biden is not a fascist by any logical definition of the word, you would have to do a lot of work to convince me that he is personally genocidal beyond what is demanded of any post-1948 American president who exists in an extremely complicated international sphere with long-standing alliances (such as, yes, with Israel) and indeed not quite a bit more progressive than literally every one of his predecessors, and it makes those actual words useless. If you claim that "Biden and Trump are both genocidal fascists," you are utterly effacing those categories as any kind of critical or useful distinction. You can't argue for any difference, you can't point out policy essentials or nuances, you can't make the most basic of empirical observances or come to a judgment on whether any part of that statement is true, because language has been deliberately stripped of meaning and used to score Cool Internet Leftist points. How can we explain what fascism or genocide actually are and what to do about them, if it's just what you call everyone as a matter of course whenever they disagree with you? You can't. That's the point.

Once again: I strongly disagree with the idea of just giving Israel/Netanyahu a blank check to keep committing atrocities, but I also need to repeatedly point out that Biden isn't doing that. His initial unconditional support of Israel after October 7 (which at the time was the correct response) has shifted to a much more measured and conditional approach where he has muted the overtly pro-Israel statements and started talking about a two-state solution and the need to protect the lives of civilians and trying to keep a lid on what could become a REALLY bad situation with all kinds of war-hungry powers eager to jump into the Middle East and blow it completely to hell. As I have said in my other posts, Trump will not do this. Trump will do the exact opposite. Which is why Netanyahu, who doesn't like having his hands tied precisely in the way Biden is doing, is trying so hard to get Trump back in. This also extends to the people who think that the West/the U.S. is the source of all evil in the world, but they're somehow the only people that can make actual choices or have real agency. Everyone else is just an American puppet; everyone is being lied to or manipulated by America/the West; nobody ever chose anything of their own free will; America/the West could roll in and put a stop to everything bad if they "really wanted to," but choose not to because etc. etc., Evil. As such, this completely fact-free belief is basically the central starting point for Online Leftism, which as I have also said, is now beyond useless and verging on just as deranged and actively dangerous as the fascists, especially since they are 100% willing to enable far-right fascism however and whenever they can because something something, That Will Show Us.

Anyway. Yes. Whew.

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Rough sex. Use of aphrodisiacs. Brief attempted rape. Lots of cum. Divider by @benkeibear!

The next day, Toji takes Megumi to school and makes arrangements for his uncle to pick the boy up afterwards. You’re a little sad to see Megumi go. While he started out a bit rude, he seemed to be warming up to you. Hopefully, you’ll get the chance to spend time with him again. 

You and Toji have breakfast together, then spend the rest of the morning enjoying each other’s bodies. At lunch, Toji orders takeout, and while the two of you are eating at the small table in his room, he says something that makes you totally lose your appetite. 

“So there’s a buyer who wants to meet you.”

The plastic fork in your hand drops to your foam plate. You knew this was coming, you’ve been mentally preparing yourself for it. Meeting with potential buyers is part of the process at the Doll House. It’s one of the things that makes the place so popular among buyers and people considering becoming dolls. Meeting with someone a few times before the purchase gives both parties a chance to feel each other out before making a ten year commitment. Dolls even have the right to reject buyers if they provide sufficient reasoning, though obviously they can’t just reject buyer after buyer. 

But these past few weeks with Toji have been like a dream, like a fairytale. You’ve been so happy spending every day by his side, and now reality is crashing into your fantasy. You definitely haven’t given up on the bet, and you have almost two more weeks, but you realize that you have to play by the rules. You have to meet with the buyer. 

“Okay,” you say, picking the fork back up, “I’ll meet him.”

Toji watches you, seeming surprised that you’re not arguing about this. “I’ll have the owner set things up,” he says after a pause, taking a bite of his sandwich. 

The meeting happens two days later, in the afternoon. You sit in the welcome room of the Doll House, Toji standing nearby, as you wait to meet your potential buyer. Even though you still feel confident that you can get Toji to fall for you, there’s something nerve wracking about this meeting. Knowing this man wants to literally buy ten years of your life, if the meeting goes “well”, just makes you feel awkward and mildly creeped out. 

When the owner walks in, there’s a man walking beside her. He’s younger than you expected, much younger than Toji. You guess his age to be no older than mid twenties. He’s not repulsive, in fact he’s sort of cute, dressed impeccably, and carrying himself in a dignified manner. But he’s not Toji, and seeing the two men in the same room together really drives that point home. 

He sits down on the plush sofa beside you, not too close, and crosses one leg over the other. He flashes you a gleaming smile that probably cost him a lot of money. 

The two of you make small talk. Mostly introductions and generic pleasantries. At one point he asks, “What did you do before this?”

“I worked at a convenience store,” you reply with a smile. 

His nose seems to wrinkle a bit at that. He returns your smile as he says, “I work for a major investment firm. I’m in high demand, so I stay busy. I don’t have time to date and pursue relationships.”

In your mind, all you can hear is that he doesn’t want to put in the effort required to find and keep a girlfriend, but you keep that to yourself. 

“So do you live around here?” he asks. 

“Oh, yeah, I have a small apartment in town. It’s really close to the store I worked at, so I could walk there and save on gas.”

There it is again, that wrinkle of his nose, as if your frugality is disgusting. To be honest, you’re hoping he doesn’t like you, so maybe you’re emphasizing the fact that you’re borderline poor. 

“You might have a hard time getting used to my place then,” he says with a smug grin. “It’s huge, three stories, eight bedrooms, four baths, a pool in the backyard…”

He goes on for a while longer, and you simply smile and nod, with the occasional, “Wow” thrown in. You wonder if he can tell just how much you don’t care about his big house. 

The man moves his hands a lot as he speaks, and you suddenly notice light glinting off the gold, fancy-looking watch on his wrist. It’s quite annoying, and distracting. When he notices you looking at it, he stops and holds his arm up. 

“You like it? I bet you’ve never seen a watch like this before. If I told you how much it cost, you might faint,” he says with a chuckle. 

You give a small laugh of your own. “Actually, the light reflecting off it is blinding me.” Then you hold up your own wrist, where the watch you bought last year at a discount store is sitting. “Mine can catch the light too, and it was only ten dollars!”

Behind the man, Toji has one hand on his mouth, stifling a laugh, the other hand clutching his side. When he meets your gaze, he rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way and shakes his head. You have to fight back a laugh of your own. 

The man looks at you sharply, and for the first time you get a genuinely bad feeling about him. He smiles at you again, but there’s something off about the expression. He looks like he finds you amusing, in a “here’s a toy I can play with and break” sort of way. 

Later, after he’s gone, you and Toji are walking down the hall. “Can you believe that guy?” you ask. “Are all buyers rich assholes?”

Toji laughs again. “Nah, most of them are alright. But this guy? He sure was rich, huh?”

“If there’s one thing I can say about him, it’s that he’s rich,” you reply. 

“Yep. That’s the main takeaway from that meeting,” Toji says, grinning. 

You think the meeting went well for you, but pretty poorly for the buyer. Which is why you’re quite surprised when, two days later, the buyer wants to have another meeting with you. He’s going to have dinner with you in one of the empty rooms, privately. 

“Do I have to be alone with him?” you ask Toji as you get ready for the dinner date. 

“Buyers request private meetings all the time. It’s normal,” Toji says, stepping closer to zip up the back of your dress for you. “But it’s just dinner. He’s not supposed to touch you.”

You turn around to look at Toji. “What if he does?”

He gives you a smile. “I’ll be right outside the door. Call for me and I’ll be in there before you can blink.”

“What if he locks the door?”

Toji grins. “Do you think a locked door would stop me?”

You sigh as you turn back to the dresser and look in the mirror. You haven’t dressed up since you got here. Toji seems fine with you wearing casual clothes, or nothing at all. But tonight you have to look “fancy”. You reach down and pick up the glass bottle of Toji’s cologne and spritz some on your neck. Then you whirl around to face Toji again. You stand on your tiptoes and give him a quick kiss. 

“Okay, I’m ready. But just so you know, I’m gonna be thinking about sucking your cock the whole time!”

Toji’s eyes widen, but then he laughs. “That’s one way to get through a boring dinner!”

You grin at him, sliding your hand down to palm his dick through his pants. “Be ready for me,” you say, “I’m gonna be famished when we get back to your room.”

His hand quickly moves under your dress, groping your pussy through your thin panties. “We have a few minutes, maybe I should fuck you right now, send you on your little date with my cum oozing out of your pussy.”

You gasp as you feel one of his fingers slip beneath the fabric and stroke your slit. “Please do! I wanna feel it dripping out while I sit across from him.”

Toji immediately turns you around to face the dresser, bends you over it, and hikes your dress up to your waist. He pulls your panties to the side and slides himself in, easily going all the way into your slick entrance. It’s a quick and rough fuck, with Toji thrusting fast and hard, making your legs wobble and your pussy ache. It doesn’t take long for him to pump you full of his cum. 

You stay there, leaning across the dresser, trying to catch your breath. You can feel Toji’s cum seeping out and into your panties. Behind you, he uses his hand to press the fabric against your pussy, getting it all messy and damp. “Don’t change them,” he says into your ear.  

“I won’t,” you tell him, finally straightening up and pulling your dress back down. “So while I’m in there, keep thinking about my pussy soaking in your cum.”

************************

Toji watches her walk down the hall in front of him and then go inside the room where the potential buyer is waiting. The door is shut, and Toji stands leaning against it. 

Though he looks calm, inside he’s so riled up, it takes all of his strength to resist tearing down the door and fucking her on the table right in front of the buyer. The fact that she wanted to be filled with his cum while having dinner with another man is so insanely fucking hot, Toji is having trouble controlling himself. He wants her under him right now, or on her knees in front of him, choking on his cock. 

He takes a deep breath and crosses his arms over his chest, trying to calm himself down. No doll has ever made him feel this way before. He enjoyed fucking them, sure, but he’s never felt like he needed them. But this girl… he’s getting dangerously addicted to her. 

Time passes at an agonizingly slow pace as he waits for their dinner to be over. And when the door finally opens, his heart beats faster when she steps out. The dress is a fairly simple one. She probably bought it at a mall somewhere. But on her, it looks stunning. When she walks by him, he smells his own cologne, his own scent. It drives him wild. 

The buyer steps out after her. He doesn’t look very happy despite the smile on his face. She probably made him feel foolish again, or just wasn’t impressed by all his bragging. Either way, Toji feels relieved that the date didn’t seem to go well. He tries not to think about what that means. 

He doesn’t even look at Toji, as if the man training his potential sex doll to please him is beneath his notice. Toji doesn’t care. In a few minutes he’ll be balls deep in her tight little pussy while this asshole goes home alone. 

Back in Toji’s room, she’s giggling as she sits on his bed, taking off her high heeled shoes. “You should’ve seen his face when I told him I love to shop at thrift stores! I thought he was gonna vomit up his dinner!”

Toji smiles as he watches her, noting how easy and comfortable the conversation is between them, as opposed to the stiff and awkward way she and the buyer spoke to each other. “So did you learn anything new about him?” he asks. 

She snorts cutely. “I learned how many cars he has, where his summer home is, and that he only wears clothes from some Italian brand I can’t pronounce.”

“Oh, so you learned he’s rich. Again.”

She laughs and stands up, crossing over to him with bare feet. Having just seen her in heels, he’s struck again by how short she is. But she reaches up and wraps her small hands around his neck, pulling him down closer to her. “I learned that he’s utter trash compared to you,” she says, then kisses him deeply. 

The next day, the owner calls Toji into her office to speak privately. He’s always found her office to be slightly intimidating, with its blood red carpets and decor. The desk she sits behind is made of deep cherry wood, glossy with polish. Her chair is lined with velvet, and she holds a folded silk fan in one hand. 

“He wants to sample the goods,” she says. 

Toji blinks. “Seriously? They’re not hitting it off at all. I get the impression he doesn’t even like her.”

It’s common practice for a buyer to want to “sample the goods”, as the owner put it. What that entails differs from buyer to buyer. Some want to see the doll naked. Some want to watch a few training sessions. Some want to actually have sex with the doll. It’s no surprise that they ask for this, as this is a ten year contract and a lot of money is involved. And so long as the doll agrees to it, which they almost always do, it’s allowed. It’s something that usually happens after a few meetings, and only after the buyer has demonstrated a serious intent to buy the doll. 

“He doesn’t have to like her,” the owner says, “he only has to want to fuck her. You know this. Dolls aren’t wives or girlfriends.”

True, Toji thinks, but in his experience, both parties were much happier with the purchase when they got along. 

“So? What does he want exactly?”

The owner doesn’t bat an eye. “Full sexual intercourse.”

Toji feels a knot in his stomach. His doll won’t agree to that. She can’t stand that guy. And… the thought of that guy touching her made Toji feel sick. 

“Absolutely not,” he tells the owner. “She’s not gonna be willing to do that.”

The owner stares at him silently for a moment, then sighs. “Alright. Sex is off the table. How about I counter offer with some kissing and light touching?”

Toji doesn’t like that either. He opens his mouth to say so, but the owner cuts him off. 

“Fushiguro, you’re one of the best trainers we have. You consistently provide excellent results. But there’s something off here. I’ve asked around, and it turns out you can’t get this doll to have sex with any of the other trainers. That’s a staple of your training! Now you’re bristling at the idea of the buyer sampling the goods. What’s going on?”

Toji suddenly feels defensive. “Nothing is going on. She’s kind of attached to me, that’s all. It happens occasionally, you know that.”

The owner taps her long fingernails on her desk. “So do something about it. Pump her full of your drug and send her in to meet with the buyer again. Give her so much she won’t care who he is. Don’t screw up and ruin your track record.”

Toji scratches the back of his head, thinking it over. “Okay, I’ll try it. But just kissing and light touching, right?”

The owner nods. “I’ll tell him tonight. If he agrees, we’ll move forward tomorrow.”

Later, when Toji tells his doll about this, she’s understandably upset. 

“I have to kiss him? And let him touch me?!”

“Just a little. Nothing under the clothes,” Toji says. 

She’s sitting on his bed, wearing pajamas - a tank top and thin cotton shorts. “But… I only want you to touch me,” she says in a small voice. It makes him want to pull her into his arms, but he doesn’t. 

“Look, we have to show that you’re willing to give buyers a shot. If not, it makes me look bad as a trainer. I won’t force you to do anything, but I will ask. As a friend, can you do this for me? Just give him a few minutes. Let him kiss you and cop a feel, then tell him that’s all you can handle right now. He’ll leave and that’ll be the end of it.”

She looks at him with wet, glassy eyes, her lips slightly quivering. “Okay,” she says. “But only if you’ll stay in the room with us.”

He sits down beside her and puts an arm around her shoulder. “Of course I will.”

The next evening, the meeting is set up. Toji gives her a dose of the “aphrodisiac”. He expected her to reject it, but she takes it without complaint, saying, “I could drink a gallon of this stuff and I still wouldn’t want him.”

Like always, her skin becomes flushed and her breathing becomes rapid. She stares at Toji with lusty eyes even as the buyer walks into the room. He gives Toji a surprised, unhappy look. 

“Are you supposed to be in here?”

Toji nods. “Standard procedure. You won’t even know I’m here.”

The doll is sitting on Toji’s bed, looking small and helpless as the buyer sits down next to her. Her eyes sweep over to Toji as the buyer’s hand moves to her face and pulls her into a kiss. It’s obvious that she’s not feeling it, and Toji thinks the buyer must be able to see that. But the buyer doesn’t seem to care, holding her face still while he sticks his tongue in her mouth, ignoring her whimpers. 

The sight of it repulses Toji on a primal level. He’s watched countless buyers kiss and even fuck the dolls he’s trained, and it’s never bothered him. Maybe because it’s never bothered the dolls. Maybe because this doll is different. 

The buyer suddenly begins groping at her breasts, his hands rough and clumsy. She draws back a few inches, but doesn’t push him away. Her eyes are on Toji, as if she’s asking if this is enough, if she can stop this now. 

For his part, Toji wanted to stop this from the moment the buyer walked in. Every spot the buyer touches on her skin, Toji wants to gently wash for her when they take a shower together later. He wants to erase this entire evening. 

After a few more minutes, Toji gives her a nod, and she quickly pushes the buyer back. “Sorry,” she says, “but that’s all I can handle right now. I’m still in training and-“

The buyer cuts her off, kissing her again, then suddenly pushes her onto her back in the bed, climbing onto her and sliding his hands under her shirt. 

*******************

You thrash and kick, trying to push the buyer off you, screaming out, “No! Stop it!”

Then, all at once, he’s gone. One second he’s on top of you, pawing at you, and the next he’s simply not there anymore. You look over to find Toji literally holding the buyer by his collar, his feet dangling inches from the floor. 

“This isn’t what we agreed to,” Toji says, his voice low. “And she said no.”

Toji drops the buyer, who lands in a heap on the floor. The man scurries away from Toji and then scrambles to his feet, his face red, looking incredulous. 

“Who cares what she says?!” the buyer yells. “She’s just a doll! I’ll own her in a week and then I can put the little bitch in her place! The only thing this stupid cunt will ever be good for is sucking cock, and we both know-“

Toji’s fist smashes into the man’s face, so fast you barely see him move. Blood sprays across the room, and when Toji draws back, you can see that the man is now missing several teeth, his lips bloody and busted. You’re instantly reminded of your would-be attacker in the convenience store. 

The man wobbles, but somehow keeps his balance. He holds a hand up to his shattered face and lets out a garbled scream. Then he looks up at Toji. 

“How dare you!” he screams, the words sounding funny through his broken mouth. You think to yourself that he should just shut up and leave, but apparently a lifetime of getting whatever you want makes you overly bold. “I’ll have you fired for this, you son of a bitch! You’re just a trainer! You’re a nobody!”

That’s when you jump out of the bed, rush over, and kick the barely standing man right between his thighs. “Compared to Toji, you’re nothing!” you scream. “And I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth!”

Toji comes over to stand beside you as the man howls and crumples over. “Nice kick, babe!”

You smile proudly at him. “Thanks!”

The man is looking up at both of you with angry, watery eyes. “I’ll sue! I’ll have this place shut down!”

Toji bends down and yanks the buyer up by his shirt. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, you sniveling little fuck.” Toji opens the door and drags the younger man bodily into the hall. You follow behind, and the man loudly screams insults, becoming hysterical now. 

The other doors in the hall open as the rest of the trainers step out to see what the commotion is about. Even Sukuna is in the hallway now, watching the unfolding scene with a grin on his face. 

The buyer notices them all and screams, “What are you looking at?! This place is nothing but a whore house anyway! All the women here are filthy sluts!”

Toji pauses in the middle of the hall. Six pairs of eyes suddenly darken and narrow. The man falls silent at the sight. Toji’s voice is dangerously low as he says, “Now you’ve pissed off the last six guys on earth that you ever wanna make angry. You don’t insult dolls in this house.”

The other trainers begin walking menacingly down the hall toward Toji and the man, and they follow as Toji drags him into the parking lot. You decide to stay inside, but you can hear the man screaming for a long while after that. 

When Toji comes back inside, you’re waiting in his room for him. He sits down beside you on the bed and says, “Are you okay?”

You nod, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “I’m fine. I wasn’t scared. I knew you wouldn’t let things go too far.”

Toji looks down at his bloody knuckles. “I wanted to kill him,” he admits, “but I guess giving him a beating he’ll never forget is good enough.”

“Are you gonna get in trouble for that?” you ask, suddenly worried. 

“Nah, he tried to force himself on you. I just stopped a crime. He’ll be removed from the client list so he can never come back here. Not that he ever would after tonight.”

“Thank you, Toji. You saved me again,” you say, snuggling closer to him. 

He glances down at you, then after being quiet for a few moments, he says, “You said before that you wanted me to tell you about any happy memories I have.”

You look up at him. “Yeah.”

“Well I don’t have a lot of those, to be honest,” he tells you. “But the ones I do have… they all involve Yumi. Megumi’s mom. Do you still wanna hear about it?”

You nod vigorously. 

Toji takes a breath, then goes on. “I don’t have a good relationship with my family. I ran away from home when I was a teenager, grew up mostly on the streets, got into gambling, drinking, all that stuff. So I wasn’t the nicest person when I met her. But she burst into my life like a sunbeam. She was chatty and funny and always smiling. And I guess that cheery attitude rubbed off on me a little. We got married, she got pregnant, had Megumi, and at the time I thought, ‘So this is what it’s like to have a happy family’.”

He stops for a moment, smiling at the memory. Then the smile fades. “Yumi got the diagnosis when Megumi was three months old. An aggressive cancer. No chance of survival. They gave her six months. You know, right up until the end, it didn’t feel real. Somewhere in the back of my mind I believed she’d get better. They’d suddenly invent a new drug or she’d go into remission or… or something. I kept thinking we’d get a miracle. But we didn’t. She died five months later. Didn’t even get the full six months.”

Toji’s eyes are clouded with sorrow as he takes another pause, then continues. “I tried to hold it together for Megumi’s sake. I really did. But I just couldn’t. Losing Yumi… it was like losing a vital organ. How was I supposed to live after that? So I went back to all my old habits. Staying drunk off my ass, gambling all my money away, getting into bar fights… anything to keep myself from thinking about Yumi. Then one night I got arrested, and I lost custody of Megumi.”

He notices the sad look on your face and smiles. “It was probably for the best. I wasn’t much of a father to him. And my relatives took him in so he could avoid the foster care system. That was probably my lowest point, but it was a wake up call. I stopped gambling, stopped fighting, got a job… I wouldn’t say I’ve completely turned my life around, because I’m still not raising my own son, but I’m in a much better place than I was.”

“I’m happy for you. That was a lot to overcome,” you tell him, taking one of his hands in yours. 

He looks down at you with a warm expression, one you’ve never seen on his face before. “All this is to say, I have a lot of baggage. I’m pushing forty, I have an unruly kid who hates me, and a dead wife I’m never gonna stop loving. If you still think ten years with me is a prize, I’ll keep you.”

Your eyes widen and your lips fall open. “Does this mean… I won the bet?”

Toji looks a little embarrassed as he looks away from your face. “Ah, well, the truth is, these past few weeks, I’ve been feeling things I haven’t felt since Yumi was alive. And it kinda scared me. So I tried to ignore it, but tonight the truth slapped me in the face. The thought of some other man, any other man, touching you… it’s unbearable. Right now, my biggest fear is losing you.”

Eyes brimming with tears, you crawl into his lap, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m so happy, Toji! I love you!”

He kisses the top of your head, rubbing your back. “I love you too.” 

The words sound like music to you. They’re everything you’ve ever wanted. You rise up to face him, looking into his eyes. “So, am I yours now?”

“Not yet. You have to complete the training, then your contract will transfer to me.”

You kiss him on the lips. “I can’t wait.”

His hands rubbing your back begin to slide your shirt up. “You really in such a hurry to belong to me?”

You hold your arms up for him to pull your shirt over your head. “I’ve belonged to you for over two years now,” you say. “You just didn’t realize it.”

He grins, turning you sideways in his lap so he can slide your skirt and panties down your legs and off your ankles. Then you turn back to face him again, your legs straddling him. You’re completely naked in his lap, your wet pussy rubbing against the soft fabric of his pants as you lightly grind into him. “Toji, please,” you say, arching your back.

“What do you want?” he asks, a bit teasingly. 

“I want you inside me,” you breathe out. “Always.”

His hand moves down to the waistband of his pants, where he pulls the front down. His cock springs free, already hard. He lifts you up slightly so that you can get in position, then you sink down onto it, letting it fill you completely. You moan as you feel the tip hit your cervix. Fuck, if it wasn’t there, he could probably literally fuck your womb. 

You grip his shoulders as you slowly begin to move up and down, enjoying the way your body stretches to accommodate him. It’s like you were made for each other. You were already so wet for him, there’s a vulgar squelching sound coming from your groin. 

After a few minutes of slow and shallow motions to prepare yourself, you slide all the way down again and wait. Within seconds, his strong hands are gripping your waist, and he stands up, holding you onto him. Your legs automatically wrap around him, and soon he’s holding you in midair, fucking up into you while his mouth devours yours. 

He’s going so hard and so deep that you have tears in your eyes, your face scrunching up in pain. But it feels so good, so satisfying, to have the man you love touching the deepest parts of you. Your hands are in his hair, on his neck, your mouth open and accepting his tongue and saliva, your body jerking with his powerful thrusts. 

“I love you,” you murmur after breaking the kiss. “I love you so much, Toji!”

One of his arms circles around your back, pulling you even closer, while his other hand moves to the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. The contrast between the soft, affectionate gesture and his cock roughly pounding between your thighs sends you over the edge. Your upper body collapses against his chest, your arms weakly clinging to his neck as you tremble through an orgasm. His hands are still gently holding you as he thrusts into you, finally shooting his seed into your core.  

Afterwards, he carries you to the bathroom where he helps you shower, then the two of you climb into bed. Lying beside him in the dark, you look at his vague outline and say, “You won’t get tired of me after the contract ends, will you?”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? You’ll be the one kicking my old wrinkly ass to the curb in ten years!”

You sit up suddenly. “Never! I don’t care how old you are!”

He laughs again and pulls you into his arms. “I gotta tell you something,” he says in a strangely quiet voice. “A couple years ago I bought a little house a few miles outside of town. It’s nothing too fancy, but it’s paid for with the money I’ve made as a trainer. I kept thinking I’d retire and move out there with Megumi, finally be a dad, you know? But it just never happened. Now though… I’m thinking a lot about that again.”

You feel tears stinging your eyes again, and you wipe them with the back of your hand, smiling. “That sounds like a dream!”

He leans over to kiss you, his lips hitting your nose in the darkness, and the two of you laugh. You can’t wait for the training to be finished, so your future can begin. 

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