#then you’re old enough to suffer without ice cream

[jenscx]

LUCID DREAM — ning yizhuo

it’s been years without ning yizhuo in your life. it feels surreal; the day you walked out without an explanation. but just the thought of being able to see her again, it draws you back into the endless loop of loving her.

TAGS — angst, exes to ???, insecurity, model!ning, ambiguous ending, mentions of alcohol, making up, jmj wedding (we don’t actually get to witness it tho)

WORDCOUNT — 7.4k

you stare at the wedding invitation, written neatly at the top, the invitation is addressed to a ning y/n. you want to cry. the invitation clearly stating your ex’s name makes your heart clench uncomfortably. it’s a blaring reminder that your relationship ended and you’re no longer living in your childhood fantasy.

“fuck,” you swear, “fuck you, kim minjeong.” you want to murder minjeong, but who were you to ask minjeong to stop reminding you of your bitter ending? especially since it was your own impulsiveness that had ended the relationship. you could have been more understanding towards yizhuo, could have tried her best to resolve your conflict, but no. instead, you ran. ran like the coward you were.

you remember the brokenhearted look on yizhuo’s face, the devastated glimmer in her eyes before she had flipped her expression to another, like a switch. or more like a broken one, your brain offers unhelpfully. of course, the quiver of her lips had given yizhuo away almost immediately. you had known yizhuo for a third of your life, obviously you could tell when your soulmate– or in this case, ex, was about to break down.

you wish you had stayed, and simply comforted your soulmate like old times, but you couldn’t bear to watch yizhuo cry, because of you. you remember the look on your friends’ faces when you told them that you broke up with yizhuo, all the words they had yelled at her for betraying yizhuo. you remember the anger directed at you by yizhuo’s parents when you had sent them an apology letter. through the post, yizhuo had told you, letters felt more sincere than emails.

but perhaps the worst reaction wasn’t from any of them, it was simply from your own cat. meowing viciously when you had picked him up, bringing him together with you. the scratches lining your arms only serve as a constant reminder. mao, your british short haired, was desperately attached to yizhuo (and she was the one who named him too. what absolute luck.) his hostility could only be reasoned that he knew his owner had hurt yizhuo. if a silly little cat knew the extent of the breakup, what could that mean for you?

“wallowing in your grief again? that’s not good for you,” you peer up at chaewon, the only friend that somehow wasn’t connected to yizhuo. chaewon takes a quick glance at the invitation and giggles, “you’re going? i hope you survive, you haven’t paid this month’s rent yet.”

you merely sigh.

“the place’s gonna be filled with people who hate my guts, you really think i’m going? minjeong probably only sent this to piss me off.”

chaewon frowns, “you don’t seem pissed off, just sad. honey, you have to let me know if they’re bothering you, like actually. it’s not your fault, well– maybe it is, but you’re suffering too. it isn’t nice for them to do this to you.” you shrug in response. you deserve it. you deserve every stab in your heart, you deserve the tears that escape in the middle of the night.

“let’s drink tonight, okay? we’ll put on titanic or something and cry about life while eating ice cream,” chaewon offers. maybe it’s the thought of getting drunk, or titanic, or crying in your friend’s arms, but the offer is appealing and you find yourself agreeing too soon.

you can hear chaewon do a silent cheer. it makes you smile slightly and gives you enough energy to pull yourself up from the floor.

“i’ll go get the soju, just lie on the couch and relax!” you follow as your friend says and lie on the sofa you had picked out together after mao’s claws had sunk into the leather, ripping it to shreds. the cat was a brat.

doesn’t this remind you of something– or someone? the voice in your head quips. you groan, why couldn’t your head shut up sometimes? your heart drops as you recall the conversation between your parents when you had told them you broke things off with yizhuo. you remember your mother’s expression; disappointed and upset, a stark contrast to when you had told her that you finally found someone. the proud look on your father’s when you introduced yizhuo to them, god, why the fuck was yizhuo such an amazing girlfriend?

you caused this. you want to scream ‘no’. you’re the one who dumped yizhuo. who are you to be upset over thi–

“y/n? hey, stop thinking about it,” chaewon pouts, “don’t make yourself even more sad!” you blink back into reality and at the sight of chaewon puffing her cheeks out, holding two bottles of soju and a large bowl of popcorn, make you want to coo at the girl. you push the thoughts of yizhuo to the back of your head as soon as the opening to titanic appears on the screen.

you two laugh sometimes, mostly chaewon, but it’s quiet throughout the movie and you can’t tell whether you’d rather have chaewon’s comments about how cute the actors are or the silence that allows you to delve deeper into your thoughts. you take a sip whenever chaewon mentions how in love jack and rose are.

when you blink, it’s already at the part where jack allows rose to get onto the wooden door, while he stays in the freezing water. chaewon throws popcorn at the tv, apparently already drunk, screaming at rose to quote, “fucking move her ass,” for jack to get on. you take a large gulp of soju in the midst of chaewon’s sniffles.

“y/n…i can’t believe it… she just let jack die!” chaewon cries out, “the love of her life, she just let him go! how could she just let him die?!” you nod, trying to drink the already empty bottle of soju.

when you stand up, the whole room swirls and you stumble back onto the couch. “don’t let her go, y/n!” you jump at the close proximity of chaewon’s voice, “don’t let the love of your life go!”

you hum in agreement and scream, “i won’t let her go!” determined, you pick up your phone and the selfie of you and yizhuo greets her. you miss her, don’t you? of course not. you don’t miss her at all. change your homescreen then. you wouldn’t.

you roll your eyes and enter kakaotalk.

y/n [11.38pm]:

i kiss you

i miss you*

read [11.39pm]

“i did it, chaewon!” you exclaim, “i didn’t let her go!”

drunk you is apparently an idiot, since we all know, if a ‘i love you’ can’t solve a crack, obviously a ‘i miss you’ wouldn’t be able to solve an earthquake.

i miss you too. i miss you so much it hurts. but how could you say that, when you’re the one that left me first? yizhuo doesn’t cry as much anymore. she doesn’t sob into her pillow in the middle of the night anymore. the couple posts that appear on her instagram feed doesn’t make tears well up in her eyes anymore.

it still hurts. hurts as much as it did before. and yizhuo might just have to live with that pain everyday. the misspelt word makes her heart throb, in affection and pain, because she could imagine your voice in her head. are you hurting as much as she is? it doesn’t make the stabbing pain in her chest any better to know that the one she loves is suffering.

yizhuo stares at the glaring light from her phone. i miss you. really y/n? she wants to scoff. you were probably drunk out of your mind and sent that text on a whim. or maybe it was meant for another girl. the thought makes yizhuo want to cry.

is there someone else you call ‘baby' now?

fuck, you think, oh fuck. the read blaring on your phone, as if mocking you.

“shit,” chaewon groans, holding her head, “what happened last night? did we accidentally kill someone?” you wish you did. you take a deep breath, and scream. if the neighbours show up the next moment, it’s totally because of the night before, and not your scream at 8 in the morning.

you calm down. eventually. you calm down after chaewon grabs your shoulders and wiggles you back and forth, yelling for you to get your shit together. it only worsens the raging headache the both of you have. if rent wasn’t so high nowadays, you would have immediately fled and lived alone. kim chaewon with a hangover was not a good sight.

“whatever! you drunk texted your ex! whatever! hashtag yolo right— ah fuck, the room is spinning,” chaewon shrieks, “ugh, why did we drink so much?! but! your life isn’t over! so what if you texted her? it’s okay, we stay delusional and pretend things never happened!”

despite the wacky talk chaewon gives, it actually helps. texting yizhuo, while drunk, was a mistake. you nod hastily, “i get what you’re saying, but please let me go.”

chaewon loosens her grip, pursed lips as she huffs, “the most badass thing you can do now is go to the wedding.”

your eyes widen, “what the hell? kim chaewon, are you crazy? no, you’re insane.”

your roommate only grins lazily, “it came with a plus one invite, right? i’ll go with you. it’ll be okay! and don’t you wanna see your friends again?”

“i do, but most of them hate my guts,” you wince, recalling the angry messages left by aeri and minjeong, none from jimin, that probably speaks for itself what she thought of you, “they were yizhuo’s friends first, and mine second. when it comes to things like this, they would, rightfully so, take yizhuo’s side.”

chaewon whistles, “yeah it’s not looking too good for you right now.”

you flop onto the couch, sighing, “if i see yizhuo, i’ll freeze up and make a fool of myself.” your hands fly to rub at your eyes, groaning miserably, “i guess i’m not over her.”

chaewon slides into the space next to you, scoffing, “you think? having her number saved and pinned is crazy and the last time we talked before this, you were in love with her. what happened?”

your heart constricts painfully. you never spoke about your breakup to anyone, only asking chaewon if she still needed someone to split rent with. the moment you had uttered those words, you had left the shared apartment with yizhuo, not turning back to watch the love of your life collapse.

“i…” your throat dries up, “i was in love with her, i guess i still am. i don’t doubt that she felt the same for me, but maybe not anymore. our relationship was the best thing to ever happen to me. the happiest years of my life were when i was with yizhuo. she made me feel alive.”

tears prick at your eyes involuntarily. chaewon’s gaze is full of pity and comfort. sympathy. no one else gave you that.

“she wanted to get married, chaewon,” you whisper, “she was ready for marriage. i wasn’t.”

“oh.”

“i saw her looking at engagement rings one day and god, it was like, how have i never noticed before? she always shows me videos of weddings and how she would want her wedding to be like, but i never stopped to think whether i wanted marriage. i didn’t know what i would say if yizhuo just proposed. would it have hurt less for her if i said no rather than breaking up with her?”

chaewon presses a comforting hand to your shoulder, sighing, “i’m sorry, i literally see two of you right now but i’ll try to articulate this as best as i can.” her words draw out a hollow laugh from you. “you just weren’t ready yet, and yeah, you should have communicated that to her before jumping in to break up, but have you ever thought that you weren’t ready because you didn’t love her enough?”

you swallow, tears flowing down your cheeks freely, “n-no, i love her. she’s my favourite person. i love her so much, too much even. but getting married? that’s a lifelong commitment. i just didn’t know if she was sure that she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with… me. she has her whole life figured out. she’s a rich model who could have anyone else. we were childhood friends first, before girlfriends. and now she’s certain that she wants to marry me? what if there’s someone better for her out there? she’s only been chained to me because we got together so young. i just… had to let her go.”

“commitment issues,” chaewon states, “you have severe commitment issues.”

“i guess so,” you let out a watery laugh. your roommate chuckles, “you want her back?”

“yeah, i’m desperate.”

“let’s go to the wedding.”

you send a small smile to chaewon, “thanks, roomie.”

“i saw the invite by the way, and damn, are your friends rich? don’t get me wrong, i’m going as your moral support but the free buffet too—”

“i’m literally going to strangle you.”

yizhuo twirls the pen in her hand, watching it glide across her fingers and abruptly landing on the wooden table with a thud. she couldn’t stand seeing all the wedding preparations and chose to hide in jimin’s study. the door creaks open, a figure stands by the doorway.

“hello jimin unnie, aren’t you meant to be looking over the finishing touches of your wedding?” yizhuo asks, her smile dimming as she thinks about marriage. jimin frowns, “minjeong’s doing that. she told me to come check up on you.”

“me?”

“i know how you feel about weddings. we all do,” jimin says bluntly. yizhuo’s lips fall into a thin line. of course her friends were aware. they helped pick out the ring for god’s sake. the weight of a velvet box lying in her bedside table haunts her dreams.

yizhuo stands up from her desk, inching closer to jimin, a faux smile on her face, “you don’t have to worry about me. it’s your special day after all.”

“not yet, but let me worry about my friend for a while more before i get married,” jimin mutters, “minjeong sent an invite to y/n.” yizhuo’s whole body tenses up. a blurry image of you appears in her brain. she immediately shuts that down.

biting the inside of her cheek, yizhuo turns away from jimin with folded arms, “and? did she say she was coming?”

yizhuo hears jimin’s hesitance.

“just say it.”

jimin clears her throat, “she’s coming with a plus one.”

a distant thought forms. a plus one. your new girlfriend? did you find someone else? were you coming to the wedding to flaunt your new lover? yizhuo wasn’t dumb, she knew that her friends disliked you, heavily. minjeong most definitely sent out that invitation with disgust. jimin told her what minjeong had said to you. aeri had barely brushed it off, saying you weren’t worth her time scolding, despite the chain of messages she sent. she knew that you were aware they hated you. why would you come to the wedding?

“i-i’m not sure what’s their relationship, but her name is kim chaewon and oh my god, minjeong’s gonna kill me, y/n requested for a shared hotel room,” jimin utters out nervously. yizhuo’s eyes turn into slits. a shared hotel room?

“i see,” yizhuo says indifferently, contrasting the feelings bubbling inside her, “that’s good to know.”

jimin places a hand on yizhuo’s shoulder, “hey, it could all mean nothing, i don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“does it matter when i’m already like this?” yizhuo retorts back.

“i hope you don’t do anything stupid. before everything, you’re still my friend. if y/n showing up makes you uncomfortable, i’ll tell her she’s not invited,” jimin says softly, “minjeong will understand. you come first.”

“it’s your wedding, jimin. i won’t be a burden to you guys. it’s your day,” yizhuo mirrors jimin’s frown.

jimin’s shoulders slack.

“it’s not about that,” the older girl retorts, exasperated.

“what is it about then?”

“i don’t think minjeong will stay neutral and be calm when she sees y/n,” jimin groans, “she’ll probably pick a fight with her and i don’t want my wife to be stressed and angry on her wedding day.”

yizhuo can’t help teasing jimin, “wife, huh?”

jimin smirks, “yes, wife. you know last week, minjeong called me—”

“oh kay! i think you should go!” yizhuo yells, saving herself from the details of her friends’ intimate lives. jimin cackles maniacally as she leaves the study. yizhuo sighs and leans her head against the wooden door. jimin’s footsteps can be heard as she walks downstairs, along with the voices of her friends. they’re all scattered and anxious, she hears the distant shouting of minjeong and aeri. despite the noise around her, yizhuo feels somewhat at peace. for now. she doesn’t know what she’s going to do the moment you come to the wedding.

because despite what everyone else says, yizhuo cannot move on. you were literally half of her life and more. when you had uttered those words of devastation, it was like the world had ended. a terrible nightmare that tortured yizhuo every single day. was she too overbearing? sometimes— well, last time, you had mentioned that she was a very affectionate and clingy girlfriend. was that the sole reason? yizhuo frowns. no, that couldn’t be. you were equally as physically needy as her.

maybe you had found someone new? the plus one that was coming? that didn’t seem plausible either. if you were cheating, yizhuo would most definitely know and you abhorred cheaters anyway.

as she wrecked her mind for reasons, a common past time she developed after you had left, the constant rewinding of the conversation had been engraved in her brain eternally.

(yizhuo had just gotten off work, a smile on her face as she entered the house, heels clacking against the floor. the thought of you waiting at home impatiently for her only brought her smile to widen. maybe you would run up to her and embrace her warmly, complaining about how long she took. yet, neither of those happened and she’s left staring at you, hunched over, at the dining table, a suitcase packed by your side.

“what are you doing?” she had asked curiously. were you going on a trip? begrudgingly, you had gotten up, a sombre look on your face as you whispered, “yizhuo…”

that ticked yizhuo off. you never called her yizhuo. it was always baby, honey, sweetheart. but never yizhuo. it sounded so foreign and cold coming from your lips.

“what’s wrong? is everything okay?” she asked.

your face contorts into one of utter desperation and heartbreak, “i think we should break up.”

yizhuo’s mind had gone blank. she had never anticipated hearing those words from you. break up? that wasn’t in her future with you. her heart clenched uncomfortably against her ribcage and her throat constricted, to the point she couldn’t mutter a single word.

taking advantage of her silence, you run your fingers through your hair, the hair that yizhuo would so lovingly comb through every night as she whispered words of devotion into your ear, “i want to break up.”

“no.” is the only thing yizhuo can say. wide-eyed and stupefied, “no.”

you look as stunned as she is, yet the stark difference between the two of you, are the tears that threaten to tip over at every passing second in your eyes.

“yizhuo,” you pleaded, “i’m sorry. i can’t.”

“why are you doing this?” she croaked out, demanding an answer. the weight of the velvet box in her purse felt like it was dragging her down to the darkest pits of hell. she couldn’t imagine something like this ever happening. you were meant to be her happily ever after.

“i—”

yizhuo couldn’t stand it anymore. “tell me why you want to break up!” she yelled, the confusion and fatigue of her body overwhelming everything.

“i… please… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“you don’t love me anymore? you found someone else?” yizhuo accused. of course, none of these were the true reasons. you couldn’t even look at yizhuo in the eye before murmuring an apology again and grasping the suitcase in your hand.

“i love you,” you had whispered at the door, “i’m sorry.”

yizhuo doesn’t even respond. pure shock overtaking her as she watched you leave. the moment the door had closed, sobs took over yizhuo as she collapsed on the floor, heartbroken and devastated at losing the love of her life.

if you truly loved her, you wouldn’t have left so easily.)

that statement plagues yizhuo’s mind for the next few years. it replays in her head repeatedly, like a broken mantra. she knows that it’s unhealthy; to be thinking of you every night before she succumbs to a dreamless sleep. yet, sometimes, yizhuo prays that she might be dreaming, and when she wakes up, you would be right by her side. jimin thinks she should get a therapist. but yizhuo doesn’t want to get over you. she fears that you might just become a hazy memory, lost in anger and grief. she doesn’t want that to happen. because despite everything, the pain you have caused her, she still loves you.

it’s strange, the way love works. yizhuo hates you for doing this to her; ruining her for anyone else because if they even bore a similar trait to you, she would just break down. like the blind date aeri had set her up on long ago. fresh out of the breakup, and with extreme bribery and convincing, yizhuo had met shen xiaoting, one of aeri’s friends, over dinner. aeri had said that maybe yizhuo needed someone closer to her culture, and with the homesickness she felt constantly, the lack of comforting words that you provided, yizhuo agreed.

that date was the whole reason aeri stopped asking yizhuo to go on blind dates, for when xiaoting had mentioned that she liked cats, yizhuo had started bawling, the memory of you playing with your own pet cursing her mind.

it was embarrassing to say the least, and even more embarrassing to explain to xiaoting that it wasn’t her fault. the poor girl had thought yizhuo had something against cats. aeri apologised endlessly as yizhuo cried, with an awkward xiaoting patting her shoulder. at least they became friends.

maybe, with the support of her friends, yizhuo would be able to stand the sight of you at the wedding. it would be totally fine! and if she sees you with someone new, maybe, just maybe, it would give her the motivation to finally get over you.

honestly, screw everything. you literally hate chaewon right now. thankfully, jimin and minjeong had provided a one night stay at the hotel. your apartment (and mao) was being taken care of by sakura, one of chaewon’s friends. there was apparently a party before the actual day. you assumed they would just want a shared bachelorette party. however, your self-proclaimed wingman was cozying up to one of the guests. by her straight posture and gentle expression, she was probably nakamura kazuha from high school. yizhuo was friends with her, you remember.

you couldn’t believe that all those words of encouragement had flown out the window the moment chaewon locked eyes with the ‘love of her life’. you roll your eyes, already annoyed with your friend. somehow, you still hadn’t spotted yizhuo amongst the crowd.

most of them, you didn’t recognise. some, from high school and college. the rest, probably family members. maybe some faces stood out, like shin ryujin from history class or jang wonyoung, the valedictorian. but mostly, unrecognisable. from the various mops of hair in the crowd, you spot uchinaga aeri’s infamous smirk. you wonder where the rest of the group are.

you sigh, taking a lonely sip of the champagne they provided. at least it was good.

chaewon’s obnoxious laughter fills the area. it’s loud and irritating, or maybe you’re just easily annoyed right now. kazuha just stares at her, all confused. it’s a little funny.

“y/n.” a steely voice rings out from the crowd. you whip your head, heart racing at the familiar but dreadful tone.

“oh,” you whisper, horror-stricken. you weren’t prepared to meet them now!

the older girl merely stares at you, before you bow your head hesitantly, “congratulations on your marriage.”

jimin visibly loosened up, her eyes twinkling and shining with adoration, “thank you.” perhaps out of all of yizhuo’s friends, jimin was the one who hated you the least. she didn’t bother scolding you or cursing you out, only choosing to glare at you.

“i think we should talk,” she finally says after a moment of silence. you wholeheartedly agree with her. if you were meant to see yizhuo tomorrow, you definitely needed another friend that wasn’t chaewon.

she brings you out of the function room, the starry night sky being the only company outside. jimin takes a long gulp of her champagne.

“why’d you really break up with yizhuo?”

the patiently and dedicated stitches of a sewed wound are ripped apart, directly exposing your bleeding heart and emotions. everything comes falling apart the moment she asks. you can only stare at her.

“i… i made a mistake,” you shake your head, “i wasn’t ready.”

jimin, patient as always, hums, urging you to continue.

“she wanted to get married. i didn’t,” you say, with grief and regret lacing your every word, because everything would be fine if you had just talked to yizhuo.

“we helped her pick out the ring,” jimin adds. you only feel more guilty.

“i can’t give her the life she wants, unnie,” the endearing term of intimacy slips out, a cry filled with desperation, “she deserves the world and i can’t give her that.”

“you were her world. it’s that simple. she only ever wanted you.”

hurt gnaws at your heart, it’s palpitating with raw stabs that echo of your heartbreak.

“i don’t deserve her,” you sigh, “i had to let her go. i couldn’t bear to see the look on her face if i refused her engagement.”

jimin nods, “i understand your fear. but i hate the fact that this could have been solved with an explanation.”

you groan, anger coursing through your veins. you were so upset and narrow-minded at the time. the only solution was to seemingly break up with yizhuo. it would spare her the everlasting pain from a rejection of her proposal.

“i know, i just couldn’t at that time.”

the older girl tries to smile. it’s akin to one of those encouraging ones she would give right before an exam or test. it sparks a shiver of nostalgia.

“jagiya, where are you— oh.”

jimin quickly straightens up, swiftly turning around to face minjeong with a grin, “hey, mindoong.”

you tense up, your fingers wrapping around the glass tightly.

“glad you could make it,” minjeong’s eyes flicker up and down your body, venom evident in her tone as she hisses, “y/n.”

nodding, you reply, “thank you for inviting me.”

the tension is overbearing; with minjeong’s glares, jimin’s beaming smile and your awkward shuffling, you couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of your hotel room.

“where’s your girlfriend?” minjeong suddenly asks. you stare at her, confused, “my what?”

jimin’s eyes widen as she hastily pulls minjeong aside, frantically whispering in her ear. but like the past, jimin has never been a good whisperer. you catch phrases like ‘she might not be her girlfriend’ and ‘what if yizhuo hears?’. a looming sensation brews in your stomach.

“kim chaewon? is that her name?” minjeong asks harshly, “didn’t take you to like korean girls, i thought you liked chinese girls instead.”

you’re visibly taken aback. what was minjeong saying? chaewon? your girlfriend? since when was chaewon your girlfriend?

“uh,” despite your fear of minjeong yelling at you, your words come out firmly, “chaewon isn't my girlfriend.”

minjeong falters slightly before scoffing, “yeah right. you don’t have to lie now. we all know that you left yizhuo for some other girl.”

your heart stops. what?

what was she saying?

leaving yizhuo for another girl?

“i— i would never… that’s—”

“minjeong unnie, that’s enough.”

you’ve thought of this moment forever. every single day after the break up. you’ve thought of running back into her arms, apologising endlessly for even thinking of breaking up with her. you’ve thought of how she would accept you graciously with murmurs of comfort, because that was just how she was. a gracious and generous girl who deserved the world. you’ve thought of her bright smile and gleaming eyes.

you’ve never thought of her staring at you, a dull and saddened look on her face.

“ning—”

“minjeong unnie,” she pleads, “please.”

the watery gaze must have swayed minjeong over. you would know, having fallen prey to her puppy eyes before. yizhuo slides the door open, watching intently as minjeong and jimin leave.

“good luck,” jimin whispers just before she steps away. you think you need all the luck in the world right now.

yizhuo lets out a heavy sigh once the door slides closed. she gazes at you for a second. you’re taken back to your younger days, where every day was spent just staring at yizhuo. you had proclaimed confidently that yizhuo was the most gorgeous girl on earth. you aren’t wrong. the years you spent apart from her had done her generously. it had only been two, yet, yizhuo looked more mature and sure of herself.

“did you really find someone new?” she whispers, shattering the glass of ignorance. you swallow, shaking your head, “no.”

yizhuo thinks back to the drunken message you had sent.

“was that on purpose? that text you sent,” she asks, eyes wide and afraid of your answer.

you shake your head again, “i was drunk. i’m sorry.”

“i hate you, you know that right?” yizhuo says. before, you had imagined the piercing stab of pain that came with those words. you had thought it would be the end of your life, with the girl you loved the most saying she hated you.

it’s understandable now, and inevitable.

“i know,” you whisper.

yizhuo continues to stare at you. somehow, this all feels like a fever dream, one that she’ll wake up from soon. it feels unreal to have you in front of her again.

she takes in the sight of you, memorising every detail for if you leave again.

“why’d you come then?”

there are many reasons that you can say, with varying degrees of truthfulness; to congratulate jimin and minjeong, to see your friends again, to just visit your hometown.

“i wanted to see you.” it’s the truthest thing you’ve ever said.

“you can’t,” yizhuo inhales sharply, “yo-you can’t just show up like this.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

your head hangs lowly.

“tell me the real reason why you left.”

you had expected this.

she would want closure.

your throat constricts uncomfortably.

“i… yizhuo…”

“tell me.” it feels similar to your past.

yizhuo looks as beautiful as ever. she’s the only thing you can think of right now. her lips are moving, yet you don’t hear a single thing.

“i didn’t want marriage.”

oh.

the girl’s eyebrows furrow. her eyes turning into slits of anger as she takes in a deep breath. you know she’s about to start tearing up. maybe you should quickly explain yourself.

it’s your only chance.

“i saw you looking at engagement rings and i knew i wouldn’t be ready if you got down on one knee. you’re a model, for god’s sake. you had a prospering career, being tied down to someone like me wouldn’t bring you any benefits,” you finally say. it’s not the full reason why, but you hope yizhuo would understand even a semblance of your choice.

“i know that it’s a shitty excuse. i know that i’m a coward. but what else was i meant to do?”

yizhuo huffs.

“talked to me. you could have talked to me.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“would that stop me from breaking your heart?”

the love of your life stands before you. yet, it seems like the only words of devotion you’ll exchange is how devoted she is to hating you. yizhuo crosses her arms, frowning, “yes. i’d much rather have a minute of heartbreak than years of it. you’re such a prick.”

“yizhuo—”

“no, you don’t get to do this,” she points a finger at your chest, prodding the area where your head resides ferociously, “you can’t just come back, explain yourself with an extremely stupid reason, and expect that i would be okay with it. you sent me a drunk text, saying you missed me. how come i don’t feel anything?”

“i love you, yizhuo. i just did what i thought was right in that moment—”

the only thing you can hear is your heart shattering into pieces at the sight of tears falling down her face. yizhuo sniffles, her voice becoming shrill as she adds on, “you’re an asshole. you think you’re the only one in this relationship? you didn’t even explain yourself properly. you think you’re making the right choices for us? for me?”

you continue to stare at her blankly.

the next words come out like a gunshot, “then you don’t know me at all.”

it snaps onto your skin, leaving a scathing burn and engraving ning yizhuo’s name into your body. your insides coil up painfully. hearing yizhuo’s cries as you left years ago had been torturous, but nothing beats her breaking down in front of you right this instant. you’re overcome with a striking urge to pull her into your arms and whisper words of affection into her ears, promising her to never leave. the pet name leaves your mouth quicker than you can think.

“baby—”

a sharp stinging sensation sears in your right cheek. you can feel the affected area heating up, scorching hot and red. yizhuo’s handprint is evident, singed in your skin.

an onslaught of tears rises, but you’re determined to not let them fall.

“okay,” you whisper, unable to say anything else to the equally stunned yizhuo, “i’ll leave. i’m sorry.”

the girl just stands outside in the cold, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks rosy from the wind. before you go, the slight shiver that runs through her body makes you hesitate. the comfort of your jacket feels like a heavy burden now.

maybe you would get slapped again. but at least yizhuo wouldn’t be cold.

gently taking it off, you encase yizhuo in your jacket, biting your cheek (which still hurts!) to resist a smile at how it covers her small figure. she gazes at you like a deer caught in headlights. you sigh and try to move your legs, but they feel like jelly. with much difficulty, you finally make it to the door, using the frame to stabilise your wobbly walking.

when you turn back, yizhuo isn’t staring at you, but she’s staring at the night sky, more specifically, the moon. you take one last look at her. the weight on your shoulders is gone now. and all that is left is a longing feeling to have yizhuo back in your arms again. but maybe, you could live with that.

sliding the door open, you go back into the function room. the crowd had dispersed, leaving just a few people chatting around. you spot jimin and minjeong talking while drinking. aeri’s at the bar, engaged in a conversation with a waitress. chaewon, god bless her, is relatively nearby, while kazuha is nowhere to be found.

“chaewon,” you breathe out, relieved. she turns to you, startled, “oh damn, what happened to your face? you look a little…”

“i know,” you laugh dryly, “i think it’s time for us to leave and go to sleep now.”

chaewon doesn’t argue and instead nods, her eyes drawn to the reddening mark across your cheek. even in the dark light, she could still notice the imprints of someone’s fingers.

“she slapped you?” she asks while you head towards the elevator.

“yeah,” you scratch the back of your neck, “we kind of… argued.”

chaewon laughs heartily at your misfortune. you’re glad at least this brings someone joy. maybe minjeong too. she would love to see you in pain.

“i think you should get some rest buddy,” she pats your back. you nod, feeling as if sleep was just an arm’s reach away.

the conversation with yizhuo had drained you significantly, both mentally and physically. and maybe you should put some ointment on the red area too. you might wake up with a bruise or something tomorrow.

the urge to flop into bed is too strong as chaewon slides the keycard into the slot. the door opens, revealing a luxurious hotel suite with a king-sized bed. you remember requesting for a shared room. it was to mainly prevent yourself from doing anything reckless when drunk. you’d have chaewon to keep you grounded.

“did you get kazuha’s number?” you ask as chaewon throws her face cleanser at you. the girl giggles, “yeah. she’s so cute.”

you subtly cringe at the lovestruck look in her eyes.

groaning, you head into the bathroom. your eyes widen as you prod at your cheek, shocked that yizhuo landed such a heavy hit. damn, has she been going to the gym lately? the yizhuo back then barely had any strength to resist your tickles. there wasn’t any surging hot anger left from yizhuo slapping you, just a dull and yearning hope for her. maybe you should calm yourself down by taking a cold shower.

after dowsing yourself with water, you padded out of the bathroom, only to discover that chaewon wasn’t hunched over her luggage anymore.

you check your phone.

chaewon [10.27pm]:

zuha texted me, staying w her for the night

there’s ointment on the bedside table

for ur stupid face

bye :p

wow. chaewon had managed to do that within a day. staying at a girl’s hotel room? you whistle lowly. maybe she was onto something. but with her departure, the hotel room feels too quiet now. only the breezing and fluttering sounds of the airconditioning accompanying your thoughts of self-loathing. collapsing onto the bed, you reach out for the ointment.

just as you unscrew the cap, the doorbell rings. you don’t recall ever ordering room service. maybe it was chaewon and she forgot something?

you turn the door knob, not bothering to check who it was.

“chaewon—”

ning yizhuo stands before you, glassy eyes and a look of desperation that you’re familiar with.

“oh.”

she shuffles awkwardly, gesturing at your cheek, “are—is it okay? does it hurt?”

gulping, you shake your head.

“can we talk?” she asks, in the quietest voice ever, her words coming out shaky and breathless.

you open the door wider.

yizhuo mutters a soft, “thank you,” as she enters the room. you quickly send a text to chaewon telling her not to come back.

“did you put any cream on it?” she asks.

“no, not yet. i was just about to,” you reply quietly. the tension from the heated argument from before had disapparented, only leaving a strained relationship behind.

“can you sit down?”

you follow her instructions dutifully, sitting right at the edge of the bed. yizhuo lifts the ointment up, squeezing a bit on her finger before gently rubbing it into your cheek. it hurts, but the softness of her touch heals the area.

wincing as she applies more pressure, you can only stare at the girl.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers.

“it’s okay.”

you want to pull her into your arms.

you want her to lean onto you.

you want the feeling of her skin against yours.

“i was really hurt.”

“i know.”

yizhuo sighs, her hands dropping.

“i can’t believe you left me so easily.”

your chest tightens at the devastated tone in her voice. it wasn’t easy, you want to say. but it doesn’t feel right to defend yourself now.

“i thought it was the right thing to do.”

yizhuo lifts her head up, “why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to get married?”

“i don’t know,” it comes out in a hushed murmur, “i didn’t want to tie you down. you had a lot more things to accomplish.”

“i’d rather have you and nothing than losing you and having everything.”

the confession goes unsaid. because you’re her everything.

“i’m sorry. you just had your whole life in front of you and i was in the back. i… i didn’t fit into your life.”

the girl takes everything in. you were just so afraid then. scared that once you said yes to her proposal, yizhuo might realise that you weren’t the one for her. you’d rather be away from her, than be with her and make her unhappy. you didn’t want to live a miserable life where you hated each other.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me.”

“i know, yizhuo.”

yizhuo’s eyes are brimming with tears. her raven hair covering her face partially, but you can feel the pain radiating off her.

“you know that i would have been happy just being with you?”

“i know.”

“god, you still left like it was the easiest decision of your life.”

no it wasn’t, you again want to protest.

“you know that even in another life, i would choose to just have you by my side, even if i lose everything else? don’t you understand the extent of my love for you?”

it’s so surreal— the way yizhuo is practically begging for you to realise that leaving her was the worst possible choice for you to make.

“i love you too much.”

“then why’d you leave?” she asks.

through tears, you shakily breathe out, “because i love you too much.”

the lack of past tense doesn’t bother you, nor does it bother yizhuo. it’s a given that you’re still madly in love with the girl, and vice versa. it only leaves the question of what will happen now. yizhuo doesn’t say much afterwards. it’s the truth. you love her too much that you couldn’t bear to see her suffer because of you.

“i was so ready to marry you, i bought a ring,” yizhuo mutters, shedding tears. her sniffles aren’t concealed by the low humming of the air conditioning. it feels too real.

“forgive me, please,” you say.

“i can’t.”

the hotel room goes quiet.

“that’s okay,” it’s hard to say. you want to protest against everything, beg yizhuo to take you back and you could live your happily ever after with her.

it doesn’t happen. you don’t fall to your knees and plead.

you only stare at yizhuo in a mix of fear and longing affection. it pains you to see her so broken, and it only drives the knife further into your heart to know you’re the reason why.

“i’m so tired, y/n.”

you nod, feeling the fatigue seep in.

“me too.”

“can i sleep here tonight?” yizhuo asks softly.

you nod. there were still things to talk about, but you think you’ve done a decent job so far. pulling the covers over your bodies as yizhuo slides into the bed, you relish in the warmth and comfort of having her beside you again.

she turns her head to look at you, uncertainty filling her voice, “let’s talk more in the morning. i’m tired now.”

you agree with her wholeheartedly, inching closer to fit against her back.

as yizhuo’s eyelids flutter shut, you caress her skin tenderly. your index finger writes against her back, strokes lining her skin.

我爱你.

i love you. it’s one of the many phrases you’ve picked up throughout the years of being with the girl. she only taught you silly words and swears, but yizhuo had insisted you learn how to say and write those very words.

it’s fitting, because it’s all you ever feel for her.

because of yizhuo, you’ve had the opportunity to experience having a soulmate for almost your whole life. because of yizhuo, there’s no lingering doubt of being unlovable. because of yizhuo, you get to spend your days filled with happiness.

because of yizhuo, you understand what love is.

you just hope she understands you too.

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

so, so this spawned from talking to @hyperfixation-tangentopia and my own brainrot over this au and these two nerds lol

under cut @murkystarlight & @fruity-legos

Summary:

A recently reformed Mateo has to carry Cooper home after he passes out while ignoring his own growing feelings and Snivel

Additional Tags:

Villain Mateo au, post redemption, what if. Developing Crushes. Snivel is a Menace. Sleep Deprivation, Cooper is sleep deprived and suffers the consequences. Implied Lore. Snivel used to be Mateo’s henchman. T for light swearing and talk of murder. Mateo’s in denial. Fluff with under lying angst tones. Cooper drools and it’s gross. Alternate Universe, VM Au adjacent. no beta we die like the nightmare king. Mateo being a little shit.

A light breeze ruffled at Mateo’s clothes and hair as he walked along an abandoned path in a random park in Brooklyn. The night was cool enough that wearing a hoodie was within the question yet the sweet smell of summer was on the air and the promise of hotter days to follow grated on Mateo’s consciousness like a million little knives, amongst other things of course. 

Summer, it was almost summer. He’d been stuck as The Nightmare King’s slave for almost two whole years. Gaw, he couldn’t even remember what it was like not to feel Nightmare King’s mind control crawling around inside his head. To be able to exist peacefully in the dream world without having all of his moves constantly monitored. Honestly even to just be able to hang out with Cooper and go get ice cream with his old friend without his mind screaming ‘Enemy, he is the enemy! Do not trust himmm!’ at him was a breath of fresh air. 

With a small smile, Mateo shot a quick glance back to see Cooper still trailing a little ways behind him. The taller teen was dragging his feet slightly but still seemed to be keeping a steady pace so Mateo didn’t dwell on why his friend had fallen behind, instead he tuned back into to listen to whatever Snivel was yapping on about to Z-Blob. 

Snivel waddled along, Z-Blob who was balanced on his head bobbing with every little step, as Snivel stuck an entire stray napkin in his mouth. 

Through a mouthful of tissue he then got out, “So then they found out the killer had been the one to place the anonymous call and got the police to dig up that patch of land because then they took the body of the victim and just buried them where the police had just dug. It was a smart move at first but then it SO backfired when it turned out the burial was right above a water line and the neighbors started getting decaying human tainted water coming out of their taps! So stupid!” 

Snivel laughed to himself like he thought the whole thing was hysterical and Mateo felt a small laugh bubble out of his throat too. Yeah ok so his sense of humor was definitely still tainted by his time under Nightmare King. 

A squilish came from Z-Blob as the slime shook himself like he was much less amused by Snivel’s story. Mateo hid a snicker behind his hand before patting Z on the head. 

Mateo opened his mouth to offer some words of comfort to the slime only for a loud thump to sound out behind the three. 

In sync Snivel and Mateo whirled around, Mateo reaching a hand towards his belt to grab his knife but instead he grasped air. Old habits die hard, he guessed. 

“Hey, uh, Boss? Your friend, he kinda…” Snivel trailed off, pointing towards where Cooper had just been standing where now the blond was face first in the ground, his butt sticking up into the air like he had simply collapsed. 

“Is he dead?” Snivel asked. 

Mateo instantly responded to his small grimspawn friend by slapping him lightly upside the head while sending a miffed expression in Snivel’s direction. 

“Owww,” Snivel whined. 

Mateo rolled his eyes, “You’re fine. Come on,” he then started walking over to Cooper as Snivel hurried to catch up to Mateo. 

The pair stopped short as they reached Cooper, Mateo rubbing his wrist nervously as he looked down at his passed out friend like he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Snivel cast a wide eyed look up at Mateo and then reached out a small little hand where he poked Cooper in the side. 

Cooper let out a snort and Mateo relaxed as he realized his friend had simply fallen asleep, collapsed from sleep deprivation if Mateo had to guess. 

With a small sigh, idiot, Mateo knelt down cautiously and hesitated before rolling Cooper over onto his back. Cooper let out another snore as his mouth fell open and spit began to dribble out. 

Eugh, Mateo felt his nose wrinkle up in disgust as he took in his mess of a friend. 

Cooper’s messy yet matted hair like he hadn’t showered recently, the scarring on his neck peeking out from underneath his shirt collar, the spit and dust clinging to Cooper’s face, and the dark eye bags under his eyes that left a gross feeling in Mateo’s stomach. Gaw, Cooper must have been so tired if he could just collapse like that, but Mateo had to admit his friend looked… 

Snivel spoke up just as Mateo noticed his hand had started to hover over Cooper’s stomach. 

“He looks so weak , if only Nightmare King had told you to attack him in the waking world while he was asleep. Could’ve solved a lot of struggles,” 

Mateo shot Snivel a scowl, who only shrugged. 

“Hey I’m just saying. You know what my brain is like, can’t help what slips out.” 

Shaking his head, Mateo turned back to Cooper and watched his hand shake slightly as it continued to hover. 

Mateo exhaled, “‘Kay Mateo, it’s just Cooper. It’s just Cooper.” 

At that Cooper let out a sniff and rolled over onto his side, and whether Mateo wanted it or not his hand brushed against his friend. 

Mateo drew his hand back and clutched it like it had touched hot coals and gapped at Cooper. 

Shit. 

Snivel did a full body waddle turn to look at Mateo as he forced himself backwards onto his butt, trying to keep his distance from Cooper. Wordlessly, Mateo stared down at his hand as he began to cradle it. 

Snivel blinked slowly, one eye and then the other, before tilting his head back slightly to try and look up at Z-Blob. 

“Boss is acting weird again,” Snivel pointed out, “What do we do?” 

Z-Blob shook himself and patted the top of Snivel’s head with what Snivel figured would be what the slime would consider feet. The slime then pointed his head in Mateo’s direction before hopping off Snivel’s head and landing next to Cooper. 

Snivel waddled himself around again to face Z-Blob, “Ugh, I get ‘knock some sense into boss’ duty again?” 

Z-Blob nodded. 

Snivel groaned loudly, “UGHHHH, fine but you seriously owe me Boogers,” 

There was an annoyed chirp and Z-Blob narrowed his eyes. Snivel held up his hands in defeat, “I uh mean Z-Blob,” 

Z-Blob’s mood seemed to lighten and Snivel was sure if the blob had a mouth he would’ve pulled out an award winning smile. 

Snivel backed off, restraining himself from rolling his eyes and hopped closer to Mateo who was still transfixed by his hand. The flame headed grimspawn did a quick once over of his ex-superior. Making a split second decision Snivel planted his feet and launched himself at Mateo, crashing into him head first and causing Mateo to end up sprawled on the ground as he grunted in pain. 

Yeah, Snivel was never one to think about things too much. He was the brawns, other people were the brains. 

“What the hell you little-“ Mateo started to yell, struggling to get back up into a sitting position but Snivel was quick to grab him by the hoodie collar and get right up into Mateo’s face. 

Mateo stopped short as he locked Snivel with his infamous glare but the grimspawn was unfazed. 

“BOSS GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF IT’S THE WAKING-DAMMED RACER BOY, YOU’VE TOUCHED HIM A MILLION TIMES!!” Snivel yelled loud enough Mateo was sure people outside the park heard him screaming as Snivel put everything in his small body into trying to shake Mateo. 

Mateo bit back a growl and grabbed Snivel by the sides to pull him away so the candle looking grimspawn would stop yelling directly in his face. Snivel began to wriggle as he was manhandled but before he could begin to bite Mateo set him down harshly. 

“Get. OUT of my face!” Mateo ordered.

Snivel grinned crookedly, “Welcome back boss man,” 

Mateo shook his head and glanced around. His sight eventually landed on Cooper for a split second before he fixed Snivel with another glare. 

“What was that for you animated candle stick?” Mateo bit out. 

“You decided to be all weird cause you touched Racer Boy over there so obviously I had to knock some sense back into you,” Snivel explained. 

Mateo squinted, “I was not… Cooper’s just a frr-SHUT UP!” Angrily, Mateo got up and walked back over to Cooper while Snivel watched him with an eat shit grin on his face. 

“Oh yeah, sure, sure. Friend !” 

“I will send you back to the dream world the hard way!” Mateo called over his shoulder as he crouched down again. He chewed on the hairs on the back of his thumb as he noticed that Z-Blob had snaked under Cooper’s head and was now allowing himself to be used as a pillow. 

Cooper for his part hadn’t changed much in the last minute but his drool flow had significantly increased. 

A small sigh escaped Mateo as he held out his hand where he let it hover again. 

Snivel was right, he’d touched Cooper a million times, in friendly ways… and unfortunately some not so friendly ways, so why now was it suddenly so hard? 

A slightly stronger than normal breeze cut through the air and Cooper shivered, curling into himself some more. 

Dammit, so cute. 

Mateo blinked, wait where had that come from? He didn’t… 

Z-Blob let out a muffled chirp and Mateo came out of his thoughts. Right, Cooper needed him, he couldn’t just let his friend sleep away on the ground in a shitty long sleeve. There were a number of things that could go wrong if he left Cooper here. 

Now, if only his body would respond. 

Mateo stayed frozen where he was trying to mentally will his body into working with him. He had been in charge of an entire legion of the Nightmare King’s army. He has fought Dream Chasers, Grim Wolves, hell even Zoey who was a notoriously tough fighter. So why, oh why!? Was he flaking out so badly right now? Why did his heart feel like it was going to beat out of his chest if he touched Cooper? 

“Why are you being such a wimp right now? Just touch him!” Snivel was suddenly at Mateo’s side, startling him as he spoke up. The flame headed grimspawn was looking down at Cooper with disinterest as he chewed on a leaf that was half hanging out of his mouth. 

Mateo sneered at Snivel, “Oh screw you, I’m not a wimp! And I’ll show you that I’m not too,” 

There was a brief hesitation but Mateo forced through it, he had a Snivel to prove wrong. 

Mateo slipped an arm under Cooper’s armpit and began to half lean over the blond as he worked to sling Cooper over his shoulder without waking him. There was a bit of a struggle but Mateo eventually got Cooper over his shoulder and stood. 

Z-Blob unsquashed himself and hopped back on to Snivel’s head. The two then cast Mateo twin looks of what Mateo almost wanted to clock as disappointment. 

Z patted Snivel’s head and the grimspawn tried to glance up at the slime as the slime let out a squiem . 

Snivel nodded, “Uh yeah, Boss, no offense or ‘nothing, but it looks like you're kidnapping him. And trust us, we know kidnapping.” 

Mateo frowned and with a sigh that was dripping with embarrassment he let Cooper slip back down into his arms. He quickly fixed his grip, slung an arm under Cooper’s knees, and took up holding the blond bridal style. 

Some happy sounding noise came from Cooper and he rested his head on Mateo’s shoulder while curling his fingers into Mateo’s chest. Much to Mateo’s dismay he then nuzzled his face into his shoulder as drool started to seep into Mateo’s hoodie. 

Mateo could already feel the red coming to his face. 

“Not one word,” he muttered at Snivel and Z-Blob as the two started to giggle. 

All he had to do was endure this long enough to get Cooper home. 

Mateo started to walk off down the path, vaguely trying to remember where Cooper lived now, as Snivel quickly found himself running after Mateo to keep up with his swift pace. 

As Snivel’s head bobbed wildly as he tried to keep up with the other, Z-Blob wrapped a small section of himself around Snivel’s strange antenna-like head protrusion so as to not risk falling off. 

Within no time the three found themselves at the entrance to the park where they were greeted with the still lively city of Brooklyn that existed right outside the hidden green haven of the park. Thankfully for Snivel and Z-Blob’s sake there didn’t seem to be very many pedestrians around but Mateo still adjusted his hold on Cooper for a brief second to untie the fireproof windbreak that was wrapped around his waist. 

“Z,” Mateo said, moving his arms back to their original position as Cooper began to shift uncomfortably, “Windbreaker.” 

Z-Blob let out a chirp of agreement and stretched a part of himself out so he could grab the back of the windbreaker and pull it free. The blob then draped the windbreaker around himself and Snivel. 

Snivel groaned unhappily, “Not the jacket,” 

“Yes the jacket,” Mateo commented, “And unless you want to be scooped up by government soldiers and experimented on I suggest you wrap that thing around you tighter.” 

Snivel grumbled unhappily but he zipped up the windbreaker and threw the hood over his head thus extinguishing the flame coming from the end of his antenna. 

Snivel’s color instantly started to dim, “Let’s just hurry up and get Racer boy home,” 

Mateo nodded numbly and looked down at Cooper who was somehow still fast asleep, drooling all over Mateo’s shoulder and yet completely unbugged by the noisy city surrounding them. How sleep deprived was this poor boy? Or perhaps he was just a heavy sleeper. 

Mateo wasn’t sure which one was worse. 

There was a squish from Z-Blob that reminded Mateo what they were currently set out to do so against the loud screaming in his head to ‘ no don’t do that’ Mateo nuzzled his nose against Cooper’s chin before tilting his head upward. Cooper let out a little cough as his mouth closed and the drool stream cut off. 

There. That was much better. 

It was less so that the drool was gross, Mateo had touched more gross things in the dream world than he’d like to admit, and more so that he’d hate to be caught like this. Ex-second in command of the Nightmare King’s army, reduced to being drooled on by one of the saviors of the dream world. Albeit Cooper was his friend but it still felt very unbecoming for the both of them. 

About five seconds later, just as Mateo started to walk off again, Cooper’s mouth fell back open and the drool stream came back. 

Welp, he had tried. 

Begrudgingly Mateo accepted his fate as Cooper’s drool covered pillow and kept walking as Snivel waddled along behind, trying his best to keep up without tripping on the sleeves of the windbreaker. 

Though it took awhile to remember where Cooper lived, once Mateo saw it again after wandering around for a bit and risking one too many close calls with someone accidentally seeing what Snivel actually looked like, a wave of familiarity washed over Mateo and in an instant he knew the house was the right one. 

Snivel started to take off the windbreaker as Mateo walked up the steps to the house but after a quick wack from Z-Blob he stopped himself from taking it all the way off. 

“Is this the place boss?” Snivel asked as he struggled to climb up the front steps. 

Mateo cast a glance at the numbers nailed into the wall of the house, yep this was that place, he was sure of it. 

“Yes,” 

Snivel finally reached the platform of the stairs that was level with the door and struggled to stand without tipping back over. Once he did he squinted up at the door in front of them. 

“It’s all dark, is anyone even home?” 

Mateo let the question simmer for a bit before responding, “I don’t know,” 

Mateo knew Cooper lived with his brother now after his parents had been arrested for fraud and his brother was a nurse who worked odd hours so if Mateo had to guess no one was probably actually home. 

There was a chirp as Z-Blob freed himself from under the hood of the windbreaker and hopped up onto Mateo’s shoulder so he could also look at the door with the two. 

Mateo wasn’t sure how long they all stared at the door until Snivel pulled at his pant leg and asked, “What do we do?” 

Mateo blinked and looked down at the welcome mat under foot. 

As he took a step back off the mat he informed Snivel, “It’s probably locked but the Williams always used to keep an emergency front door key under the welcome mat,” 

“Ohhhh,” Snivel cooed curiously. The grimspawn then bent over and ripped the welcome mat from its resting place that it flew over the railing on the sides of the landing and went crashing into a bush. Thankfully however the key underneath was left undisturbed. 

Mateo sighed, rolling his eyes at his friend’s brutish behavior, “Thanks Snivel, I wanted to do more things tonight.” 

There was a laugh as Snivel picked up the key and waddled over to strain up and stick the key into the lock, “Nice sarcasm boss!” 

With a bit of a struggle Snivel managed to turn the key and the door opened. 

“Aww yeah,” Snivel cheered and without even waiting he sauntered into the Williams house. 

“Hey wait-“ Mateo started to protest but Snivel had already disappeared into the depths of the house. 

Mateo grumbled some Spanish swears under his breath only for Z-Blob to nudge the side of his face. Mateo tilted his head to the side as he watched his little blob friend jump off his shoulder and into the bush below. 

“Ah, yeah, you’re dealing with the mat now?” 

There was a chirp. 

“I see, well thank you,” Mateo told the slime, “I’ll go put Cooper in his bed and be back in a bit.” 

Mateo shifted his grip on Cooper before turning to the side so they could both fit through the door. Once inside Mateo looked around the dark house, keeping an eye out for Snivel but after not finding the candlestick akinned grimspawn he continued on to the stairs. 

Though a feeling of fear cropped up in Mateo’s stomach at the thought that he could lose his balance and fall down the stairs as he climbed, he eventually made it to the second floor and began to duck his head into a few rooms to find Cooper’s bedroom. 

After about the third door Mateo found Cooper’s room; the yellow and red walled room cluttered with a bunch of instruction manuals, race car and F1 posters, invention bits a bobs, piles of dirty clothes, and so many other things that had Mateo questioning how much of a hoarder his friend actually was. 

Mateo wrinkled his nose and entered the room, stepping over an empty box of twinkies that had a model car sitting on top of it, and dancing around a cacophony of other items to make it over to Cooper’s bed without tripping. The one pro to come out of working with the Nightmare King: night vision. Finally he made it to the bed and tried his best to gently place Cooper down on his side while his arms screamed at him to just drop the blond. 

With a huff Mateo freed his arms from underneath Cooper and began to rub them. Gaw why did he carry Cooper all the way here? He should’ve just woke him up. 

Cooper let out a pitiful whine and Mateo felt himself freeze up as Cooper moved his arm to rub it against his pillow thus pushing up his sleeve and revealing the lightning scars crisscrossing up his arms. 

Ah, those. 

Mateo ignored the guilty feeling that started to stir in his gut. He knew that Cooper and his sister were covered in a patchwork of what were called Dream Terror Scars; which were scars obtained in the dream world from nightmare creatures that would carry over to one’s waking world body. Mateo had his fair share too but he felt more pain over the ones Cooper and Izzie had as unfortunately plenty of those ones Mateo himself was responsible for. 

Mateo shook himself, he was a good guy now. Izzie and Cooper knew he was sorry for what he’d done and they forgave him, he didn’t need to dwell on it. Silently he turned and sat on the edge of Cooper’s bed, raking his eyes across the room. 

“Why is your room such a pigsty?” Mateo muttered though he knew Cooper wouldn’t respond. 

There came a snore from Cooper, followed by some shifting and Mateo felt himself go red as Cooper curled into the lower half of his back.  

Mateo looked down at Cooper, gapping slightly, “What are you doing?” 

Cooper curled in a light tighter as he shivered. 

“Oh you’re cold,” Mateo hummed, carefully he detached Cooper from himself and stood so he could grab the crumpled up blanket from the end of the bed and throw it over Cooper. 

Cooper let out a happy hum and wiggled himself deeper under the covers. Mateo couldn’t help the small little chuckle that came from him and before he knew it he found himself brushing some of the dirt away from Cooper’s face with his thumb. Too little too late did he realize what he was doing and Mateo yanked his hand away. 

Why did he do that? 

Mateo stared. Cooper was screwing with his brain he swore, why else would it feel like his heart was going to beat out of his chest whenever Cooper smiled at him? 

A distant clatter came from downstairs and Mateo was shocked back into reality. 

Dammit Snivel. 

Mateo looked down at Cooper one more time before giving the blond an awkward pat on the head and with that he carefully made his way back over to the bedroom door to leave. 

Mateo shut the door quietly as he left and then made his way downstairs. 

What he found was the door of the Williams brother’s fridge wide open as Snivel, who had ditched the windbreaker on the floor, dug around inside it as Z-Blob struggled to catch everything Snivel threw aside. Apples, pudding cups, and a carton of milk all went flying and Z-Blob hopped around to catch each item before they could go spilling to the floor but just as quickly as the slime managed to catch the item another went flying. 

Mateo watched the chaos for a moment but as an entire bag of carrots was thrown he stepped in. He caught the bag of carrots midair and set them on the counter only to then stride over to Snivel and rip him out of the fridge by the antenna. Mateo bit down on his lip as he felt Snivel’s antenna squish around his hand like he was touching a living hard boiled egg. 

“Hey!” Snivel complained. 

“Stop raiding their kitchen,” Mateo ordered as he grabbed Snivel by the sides like a hamburger and Snivel began to wiggled around in his hands. 

“I just wanted some cheese!” Snivel yelled, struggling to reach out and grab the block of cheese that was still sitting in the fridge. 

“Uh hu, sure,” Mateo commented as he started to walk away, signaling to Z-Blob that the slime was free to put everything back in the fridge, “We have cheese at home if you really want it but I know you’re just being a menace.” 

Snivel shoved his feet against Mateo’s stomach, struggling to free himself, “It’s Racer Boy, I have to torment him somehow!” 

Mateo scooped up the discarded windbreaker and threw it over his shoulder, “We’re not even enemies anymore, leave him alone.” 

Snivel finally managed to wiggle all the way around and grinned up at Mateo, “Force a habit!” 

There was a clatter from behind them, followed by a squish and the sound of the fridge door closing as Mateo reached the front entrance. Mateo turned slightly and watched as Z-Blob hopped out into the hall and then again to jump up onto Mateo’s shoulder. The slime gave Mateo a gooey head bump once he had landed. 

Mateo smiled, “Thanks Z,” and with that he shoved a complaining Snivel under one arm so he could exit the Williams house and lock it up behind them. 

[brahmsthirdracket]

jack, luke, their long-suffering father and a flying cow 🐮

Jim can only assume that the charter crew must spend the rest of their flight hours couriering coked-up musicians and weird, smelly tech bros around the country because they don’t bat an eyelid at the sight of his disheveled children.

They really do look ridiculous: Jack is sleepy and unshowered, with one arm immobilized in a sling and the other clutching an enormous cuddly brown cow that’s almost as big as he is; and Luke, who’d shown up in Colorado with a body fluid percentage of approximately sixty percent vodka sours, is shuffling along in two different shoes and his mother’s sunglasses.

In fairness to Luke, he’d been sent a ticket for a red-eye to Colorado at 10 p.m. the night before by his father. In fairness to the father in question, Luke’s twenty damn years old.

Luke had frowned when this had been imparted to him in the VIP lounge at Eagle County Regional Airport, the last few stars giving way to weak, early morning sun. Through the glass of the terminal they the dark mass of the mountains lighten into a brown scrub and patches of unmelted snow.

“Like,” he pauses, brow furrowed, and Jim can practically see the cogs turning slowly in his pickled little brain, like some kind of Smirnoff mill. “I’m twenty so I’m young enough to not be underage drinking, or I’m twenty so I’m old enough to be more resp- responsible?”

“Both!” Jim snarls, trying to lean around Jack and his cow, who are each taking up a seat.

The wind sweeps the grasses on the side of the runway in graceful arcs and rattles the chain link fence. Jack, who’s been subsisting almost exclusively on morphine and ice cream for the last few days, sways unsteadily on the first flimsy step.

“Give me the cow, honey,” Jim tells him from behind, already exasperated.

“No,” Jack grunts out, tightening his hold and hobbling up another step. He hasn’t let go since its surprise appearance at the hospital last night, accompanied by a truly obscene amount of Swiss chocolate. Jim perks up at the thought of the nougat, and he patiently shuffles up the steps behind his son, one step at a time and a palm resting securely on his back the whole way.

Just ahead of them, Luke manages to trip on the top step and is saved from concussing himself on the drinks cart by the ample chest of one of the stewardesses.

“I’m an elite athlete,” he tells her solemnly and walks straight into an overhead locker.

Jim breathes in for four, holds for four and out for four, just like he tells his players. Of course it doesn’t really work and he snaps his eyes open just in time to yank Luke by the scruff of his neck in the direction of a seat before anyone has to call a lawyer.

As requested, the cabin crew have reclined two of the leather chairs that face each other and made them up with sheets, pillows and soft, cream-coloured blankets. After a lifetime of cramped sleeper buses and cheap red-eyes, Jim doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to traveling like this.

Jack - who definitely has got used to traveling like this - toes off his sneakers carelessly and collapses down onto the bed, or as much as he can without putting any weight on one side of his body. The ridiculous cow takes up half the seat but at least it supports Jack’s back so they can wrangle him comfortably on his right side.

“Where did the damn thing come from anyway?” Jim asks again, to no-one in particular as the wheels clunk up into the belly of the plane.

Ellen just gives him her patent did-I-really-marry-someone-this-dense look and goes back to typing up a meds schedule for Luke to follow.

“It’s an alpine cow,” Luke says, completely nonsensically, and snickers.

Jim points a finger at him. “You’re lucky the seat belt sign is on buddy.”

He rummages until he finds the chocolate - Jack won’t mind, he can’t have it anyway because of his diet plan - probably. Luke eyes him hopefully from across the aisle but: “He’ll have a double espresso,” Jim tells the hostess.

Jim settles himself into his comfortable leather seat, breaks into a dark milk nougat and calls the only one of his children who could legally operate heavy machinery right now. Quinn’s rumpled and sleepy face appears after a couple of rings and Jim feels immediately calmer.

“Good game, kiddo,” he says, without preamble.

“Yeah, uh thanks,” says Quinn, shuffling around in the frame.

Jim flips the camera - without having to turn the whole phone around, thank you very much - so Quinn gets a view of Jack cuddled up with his ridiculous cow.

Quinn squints into the camera. “Oh, nice. It actually made it in time.”

“So you sent it?”

“What? No, obviously it was-”

But who it was Jim never gets to hear, because Luke starts suddenly making insistent mooing noises across the aisle. Jim covers the mouthpiece of the phone with one hand.

“Hit him for me, honey,” he calls to Ellen, who just gives Luke a gentle cuff around the back of the head without looking up from her iPad, then runs her fingers through his curls.

One of Jack’s feet is sticking out from under the blankets, still in the bright blue hospital-issue socks with the little no-slip stickers. Even fast asleep, and clearly exhausted, he’s clutching the cow. Oh well. At least he and Quinn have a whole damn house now to store all of their weird crap.

“Dad?”

“Sorry, bud - where were we?” Jim curls a hand around Jack’s foot and squeezes gently as he and Quinn get into the nitty-gritty. The crew will have seen worse than a flying cow. Probably.

[fizzyginfizz]

New

For @hinnymicrofic - Prompt 11 - "New"

Fact: Ten was obviously old enough to stay home alone.

Fact: There was absolutely, undeniably, no point in being dragged all the way to King’s Cross to suffer sibling abandonment without a consolatory trip to Fortescue’s afterwards.

Fact: Due to an - ahem- unfortunate incident involving a weathervane, two buckets of unpasteurized milk and a clay pigeon, neither was an option. She was grounded.

No ice cream, no home alone, no reprieve from the September 1st routine.

“Now, what’s the platform number?” her Mum asked, as she asked every year Ginny had been alive.

“Nine and three-quarters!” Ginny piped up with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. It was sucking up, yes, but sometimes her Mum forgot precisely which child was grounded. Banana mint ripple fudge could still be on the menu, if Ginny played it right. “Mum, can’t I go-“

“You’re not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet....“

Blatantly untrue. There was no age minimum for ice cream. Even toothless infants could eat ice cream.

However, “be quiet” in that tone meant Mum remembered perfectly well who was grounded.

Stupid weathervane. Stupid buckets. Stupid pigeon.

Stupid swarm of grumpy bees.

“Excuse me.”

Startled at the sound of a cleared throat, Ginny peeked around her Mum to spy a thin, dark-haired boy wearing round spectacles and a hopeful, yet nervous, smile.

A hand-me-down gray shirt hung on his bony shoulders. But Ginny watched those shoulders straighten as he bolstered his courage and stepped forward with an expression that was half-cautious, half-determined, half-shy and half-something-Ginny-wasn’t-entirely-sure-she-could-define, having run out of halves.

Someone must have cast some sort of hex, because everyone was suddenly moving in slow motion.

And Ginny was fairly certain no one was speaking English anymore.

Also, why was she hearing an orchestra of violins?

Huh. Her Mum’s mouth was moving, the boy’s in response.

Fascinated, Ginny ducked to peek around his spectacles to see the color of his eyes. Which was a little weird because who cared what color eyes he had? They were eyes. Their purpose was to keep a person from bumping into stuff.

Oh.

Ginny swallowed the lump that had apparated into her throat.

Green.

Flash-bang-wallop, and green slammed straight into Ginny’s stomach. Had to be magic involved, to make an amorphous color punch her in the gut like that.

Also, she couldn’t breathe. Apparently his green eyes had busted her lungs.

The boy thanked her Mum and ran through the wall.

Jolted into motion, Ginny snatched her Mum’s hand, yanking her along in pursuit.

However, there was so much bustle on the platform, Ginny lost sight of the messy dark head. Releasing her Mum’s hand, she weaved her way through the trunks and the owls, the goodbyes and hellos, the laughter and hugs as she jumped up and down, trying to spy the top of that messy dark hair.

But all she found was the twins. Talking. Blah-blah-blah, “Guess what?”

Wait, was that a bit of messy hair through one of the train windows? Ginny bounced on her toes, trying to peek inside.

More-blah-blah-blah, “--ry Potter!”

With a gasp, Ginny realized life had gifted her an opportunity, tied with a fat red bow. “Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him?” Buy into the ruse, Mum, buy into the ruse. “Mum, oh please…”

Sure, gawking at Harry Potter was a rather flimsy excuse to climb aboard and track down the green-eyed boy before he disappeared off to Hogwarts for a year, but…

Ginny froze.

…wait a moment…

Ginny frowned as Fred and George’s ”blah-blah’s” truly sank in.

That dark-haired boy was Harry Potter? THE Harry Potter?

No way.

Pffft.

That made no bleeping sense at all.

Under duress, Ginny might grudgingly admit Harry Potter may have aged. Still, Harry Potter was a cherubic baby so full of shiny goodness it couldn’t be contained by mortal flesh in the face of evil. Harry Potter’s virtue and righteousness shot out his baby eyeballs and fried the dark lord with holy fire held within a golden halo of Galahad-like innocence.

Also, Harry Potter? Blonder.

Then, the whistle sounded.

“No,” she breathed. It was too fast, too soon. He was leaving; they were all leaving.

The train began to chug, and Ginny raced down the platform, her panicked gaze flittering from window to window, knowing that something momentous had just happened, but not sure what it was or why she felt like something vitally important was fluttering just out of her reach, like a snitch that was too fast for her second-hand, borrowed broom.

But then, a messy dark head stuck itself out one of the compartment’s lowered windows.

Without meaning to, her arm shot up, and she waved. Maniacally. Frantically.

He smiled, and the sun came out.

She didn’t know why, but that smile made her cry. It made her laugh, too and she ran alongside the train, waving at his smile laughing and crying at the same time like a lunatic. Seriously, like someone who belonged in an asylum where they fed the inmates nothing but watery gruel because they couldn’t be trusted with forks.

And when the train disappeared into the distance, Ginny stared after it, left with a feeling that was weird and exciting and debilitating and uplifting all at once.

A feeling that was breathtakingly new.

[mangoshorthand]

No Hard Feelings- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch1

SUMMARY: You're Five's latest assassination target, but things don't go to plan and now he wants you as his fuckbuddy. Funny how what we want and what we need are rarely in line. (Aged up Five because things get smutty...obviously.)  Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five- Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

In this opening chapter, you’re a nice, normal girl having a nice normal evening. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter One: Nothing Personal

It had been a long, exhausting day and, unfortunately, tomorrow promised no better. 

You dropped your keys on the little sideboard by the door, dumped your laptop bag, and kicked off your heels, leaving them awry in the hallway. 

You liked dressing nicely for work, but the confidence that heels and tailored outfits lent you was always undermined by the knowledge that they were a prerequisite to avoid being seen as an incompetent mess. You were certainly glad to switch them out for yoga pants and a tank top almost as soon as you arrived home, taking off your bra with a sigh of relief. 

If asked, you would have said you were lucky to have your position, less than a decade into a real career, but none of that made it any easier to be constantly talked over. 

Charlie was the worst. He sneered at your pitch about assigning account managers based on the client’s business goals rather than industry specialism…only to roll up the sleeves of his band-collar shirt and pitch the exact same idea. 

Apparently, him describing it as an ‘expert alignment initiative’ was good enough sleight of hand to convince the old farts in management that he was a genius. You, by contrast, were just ‘being aggressive’ by calling him out on it. No matter how much the HR department pushed their ‘company values’, the fact remained: you were working for nothing more than a shitty boy’s club. 

You rubbed your hand soothingly across your eyes and forehead, stretching out your aching feet as your favorite old sitcom ticked over to the next episode. Now that the remainder of your dhal was cold on the coffee table, you thought without much conviction that you should probably try to get out for a run. 

But then again, perhaps not: you decided to go with your inclination and skip it. It would be much easier to imagine seeing Charlie’s infuriating face tomorrow with a pint of ice-cream in your hand instead of pounding the sidewalk. 

You stood, stretching with a little groan and crossed to the freezer. You felt entitled to some self-indulgence after the day you just suffered through. Were these just excuses concocted to justify an ice-cream binge? Definitely, yet you found it difficult to care. 

You wouldn’t end up reinforcing this particular bad habit tonight, however; the ice-cream landed on the floor with a frozen-solid thump, dropped from a slackened grip.

Because, when you closed the freezer door, it was to reveal a gun held inches from your temple. 

Your eyes met the intruder’s and, for a fraction of a second before yours widened in terror, you looked directly into his hard, green eyes.

And then, your legs fell out from under you, totally giving way from fear.

“Cookie dough?” said the man who was about to send a bullet into your brain, splattering gore onto your reasonably-priced fridge-freezer, “I’m more of a Cherry Garcia guy myself.”

Somehow, you knew this wasn’t a robbery as you looked up at him, trembling hands up by your head in surrender. There was something about the practiced, professional way he held the gun; his casual posture, as if he were standing in line at McDonalds rather than a second away from shooting you execution-style. 

He looked perfectly relaxed. Young, perhaps twenty, maybe twenty two. He was dressed in an impeccably fitted but otherwise nondescript black three-piece suit, his hair swept neatly to one side. 

A wry, cocky smile filled his face even as he clicked off the gun’s safety. His head, tilted backwards slightly, accentuated the line of his jawbone; a jawbone that could have cut glass.

It was strange, if you’d ever imagined yourself in this kind of situation before, you would have imagined yourself shouting at an intruder, perhaps calling him a cocksucker before dying in brave defiance, but now you were faced with death, you could only manage a whimper.

“Please,” you managed. 

Your heart was beating frantically in your throat, as if, for all the world, as if it was trying to get its proper innings and thump out your entire lifetime’s worth of beats until this man stopped it prematurely.

“Please,” you said again, “why are you doing this?”

“It’s nothing personal,” he replied, smile not even faltering. 

...But then your eyes met his again, beseeching, and something flickered in answer to your appeal: something human. 

Your body moved without your permission, something stronger than reason taking over. You would never know why you did it -  it wasn’t a conscious choice - but, feeling as if your bladder and bowels might let go at any minute, you fell forward with your eyes still locked on his. 

You tried to hold on to that little piece of pity, that scrap of mercy as fervently as you held his gaze, your arms wrapping themselves around his waist in a kind of desperate hug. You grasped at him, hands coming to rest somewhere between his thighs and buttocks, your nose pressed into his lower stomach. 

Clearly, whatever he expected from this encounter, it wasn’t this, and, as TV played the final strains of your sitcom’s theme song, his cool demeanor cracked. 

The smile ran off his face like water down a drain. 

As if to steel himself, he pressed the barrel of the gun into your temple. You heard it; his grip contracting around the handle. It was a horrible, metallic, mechanical sound that you heard in all its minute detail. Just like your heart, it seemed, your brain was also making the most of the time it had left, stretching the seconds like taffy so that every micro-perception came upon you in vivid detail.

Many things about that night would never be fully explainable, and it was the same overwhelming, irrational instinct that spoke to you in that moment; it told you that your only hope was to maintain eye contact. You couldn’t break the fragile thread connecting his eyes with yours. 

His expression hardened, but you only clutched him harder in response, not allowing the silent tears to blur your vision.

“Please don’t,” you begged.

At some point in the countless, interminable seconds you stared into his face, you became conscious of where your mouth was. Your lips grazed the material covering his groin along with your ragged breathing, and it was clear that he’d noticed it too: his posture changed uncomfortably, his gun slackening just fractionally. 

You knew you’d do whatever it took to get out of this. Anything to save your life.  

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he looked down at you, eyes ablaze now. With anger? Disdain? Maybe, it was impossible to tell. You could feel him hardening rapidly beneath his pants. He shifted again, presumably to make this less obvious, but failed, and something pressed gently but very obviously into your chin.

You felt your face flush, yet you didn’t dare move.

He bit his lip and broke that vital eye contact. A thrill of fear rushed through you: the one thing tethering him to you, and now the spell was broken. You were living your last moments. 

His neck arched, his Adam’s apple standing out in harsh relief as he looked up, eyes on the ceiling and breathing hard. He remained that way for a second or two, composing himself. You wanted to beg him, to bargain, to tell him you’d do whatever he wanted, but fear and overwhelming instinct kept you silent but for hitching breath.

At last, he looked down again, as if to return his eyes to yours, but instead his eyes darted down, raking the parts of your body he could see furtively before mastering himself. There was no way he couldn’t have caught a glimpse down your tank top at your naked breasts, nipples no doubt erect with fight or flight response. The idea made your cheeks burn. 

And then, again, your eyes met, and his were lidded now. There was a tiny movement; barely there and surely unconscious, but his pelvis tensed, making the pressure of his hidden but rock-solid erection fractionally more pronounced on your mouth and chin. 

He jerked away and inhaled throatily, almost a gasp. There was no trace of the cocksure smile of a few moments ago.

Then, from under his breath.

“Son of a bitch.”  

His right hand slackened and the gun fell to his side with an exasperated sigh. As he stepped back, your overtaxed nerves finally failed you and the world fell away: you sprawled forwards onto your cheap kitchen linoleum.

Five cradled a glass of single malt. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

Was he losing his touch? Has he gone soft to the point that he couldn’t even take out a single target? Had he become so poor an assassin that he shit his pants just because a girl looked up at him? He knew he’d have to go back and finish what he started, so why was he putting it off?

…Because shitting his pants wasn’t the problem: her tits were. Or her lips. Or her hair. Or the way her breath warmed his crotch, penetrating the layers of fabric between them. It was unsettling: the way his hips moved without his permission. The body wanted friction…wanted her. 

He sighed, sweeping his hair back out of his eyes and altering his seated posture, the better to accommodate another growing erection. He hadn’t been this…sensitive in a number of years. 

And this was all because he’d fucked up that first time: when he’d screwed his calculations and got trapped in the teenage body, sentencing himself to a few years stewing in hormonal rage and frustration. 

He’d coped with it, (for the second time) and until tonight he’d thought it was over, that he was controlled now the body had grown far beyond sexual maturity. Sure, he was over the horrors of puberty but the virility was still…a problem. A problem perfectly summed up by the fact he'd just popped a boner on a barstool.

She was a pretty girl, but not breathtakingly so. Still, he had to admit that the photograph in the file hadn’t done her justice. She seemed just a suburban twenty-something trying to make it in the big city, and that’s exactly what she proved to be, so why had her eyes assailed him so much? Something in them…or maybe something they saw in him?

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes and forehead.

“Tough one, son?”

He looked up at the old man sitting a few barstools down and favored him with a slight smile.

“You might say that.”

“Chick stuff or job stuff?”

Five let out a slightly dark chuckle, “Both, my friend.”

“I’d call that a double-whammy. Ain’t life a bitch?” the man replied, draining the last of his drink.

Five gestured to the bartender, wallet in hand.

“Whatever my friend over there’s having.”

The man toasted Five with his empty glass and went back to playing with his bar mat.

Once upon a time, he craved retirement. He'd wanted to just let it all go. They were where they should be, all their powers intact, and the apocalypse finally averted for good. Theoretically, there had been nothing to stop him just checking out. His real body got tired easily and would have relished the rest. 

But this body? No siree. Not with all those healthy young neurons firing up there his brain, his muscles, bones and joints strong and itching for another lifetime's activity.

After a few weeks of vacation, he was bored out of his mind, full of pent-up energy, drinking too much, and feeling pretty stupid dressing the young body in old-man clothes. Full retirement clearly did not suit him and, eventually, he'd told Herb that he was happy to work on a freelance basis.

The occasional project with the Commission helped keep him sane in the last six years, as well as giving him an excuse to wear suits again. It was simply easier and less unsettling to his self-image to wear a style that would suit a man of any age.

Five’s moral code was liberal (to say the least) but he at least drew the line at committing murder out of sheer boredom. Up until that evening, his duties had been strictly analytical: acting more as a consultant given his status as the founder of the Commission via some remote permutation of himself. 

Herb asked him to take on this job as a favor, (something about cost-saving and briefcase scarcity) and Five had reluctantly agreed. 

Her face rose unbidden to his mind’s eye. He took a sip of scotch, savoring the burn on his tongue and throat as it went down. The way she blushed, the way a tear rolled down her cheek. Her pleading, wide-pupiled eyes, and the way they’d seemed to stare into him, seeing not only the old man within, but even more than that.

Her eyes had stirred something in him beyond his sexual frustration…but it was no use humoring that. These thoughts were stupid.

Necking the last of his drink, he decided. He couldn’t leave things hanging the way they were. It was time to take action and get the job done.

The blanket you woke up beneath was still around your shoulders. One of the two cops, Officer Rojas, sat on one of your dining chairs, facing you. She was tapping the end of her biro contemplatively against her notebook while, behind her, Officer Boden assessed the apartment, craning his head around doors and taking in the view from various angles.

“Can you give me a description of the man?”

The mug of coffee Officer Rojas made for you warmed your fingers, but it could barely penetrate the bone deep numbness that had settled all over you since waking.  

“He was young…white. College aged, I’d guess. But he was wearing a nice suit. Like a jacket and a waistcoat. It wasn’t the sort of outfit a college guy would have. It looked expensive. And he seemed…he seemed older when he spoke.”

“Mhm.” she said, taking a note. “That’s great, you’re doing really well. Can you tell me anything about his appearance? His face?”

You cast your mind back and find your memory disturbingly exact. His image was burned into your brain, his voice easily recalled. If you had to, you thought, you might even be able to pick him out of a line-up based on his smell: the clean smell of his aftershave.

“He had dark brown hair. Almost black. Longer at the front, shorter at the back. Kinda…swept over. Green eyes. That sort of green that changes in different lights.”

Rojas raised her eyebrows as she scribbled, impressed and perhaps surprised at a level of recall you could sense might be rare in other witnesses. The realization made your cheeks burn with shame, although you weren’t sure exactly why. 

“His nose was…it had a bump here,” you said, pointing to the bridge of your own, “There were two small moles- maybe birthmarks on his cheek. His left cheek,” again, you gestured at the corresponding spot on your face. 

He had a dimple there too, you remembered, although you didn’t tell her that.

“How tall was he?” prompted Officer Rojas.

You shook your head, unsure. You spent most of your time on your knees looking up at him, so perspective was hard to gauge. The only thing you had as a reference was how his groin ended up right by your mouth as you knelt.  

“Under six feet but I can’t tell you more than that. I’d guess slightly shorter than average.”

“Thanks ma’am, that’s so great.”

From beside the fridge-freezer, Officer Boden cut in.

“You passed out here?”

You nodded.

“But you woke up there-”

You nodded again, feeling your face spasm with suppressed tears. 

“-and the door was still locked from the inside?”

You could feel your eyes screwing up. The sobs began to puff their way out of your tightly-held lips, and then the tears came. Rojas, placed a compassionate hand on your arm.

“It’s okay, ma’am. You’re doing perfectly.”

“This building got cameras?” Boden continued, brusquely. 

You nodded for a third time, but tried to speak through sobs.

“Uh…th-there’s one at the front door, one in the elevator. Maybe there are others? I- I don’t know.”

Tears overtook you, remembering how he’d just been there when you closed the freezer. There was only one way in and one way out of your apartment, yet he’d appeared there soundlessly; impossibly. 

Aside from the Cookie Dough melting on the floor, you might have thought you imagined the whole thing, as if perhaps it was some horrible fever dream. Maybe you dropped the ice-cream yourself before passing out on the couch?

Surely he must be a figment of your imagination? Surely only your imagination could conjure something so fucked up as moments of searing eye contact with home-intruder. You had an active imagination, it was true -  a ‘gift of the gab’ that came in useful in your career -  but it never played tricks on you, never got beyond your control. 

And the way his aftershave lingered in your nostrils confirmed his presence in the way nothing else could. It hung around you as present as the blanket around your shoulders. 

He was real, alright. 

When, at last you opened your eyes, it was clear that a silent conversation had been going on between Rojas and Boden. Her face was drawn into a stern look that clearly meant: ‘ leave this with me, dumbass’, which Boden returned with a truculent one of his own.

Boden turned to you instead, her eyes concerned and voice pitched to a gentle timbre. 

“I’m going to ask you something now, and you can just nod or shake your head. You don’t have to go into detail just now, okay?

You nodded your understanding.

“Did this man hurt you in any way?”

You shook your head, tears still falling.

“He just held the gun to your head for a while? He didn’t hit you, kick you or anything like that? Nothing to cause you pain?”

You shook your head again.

“Did he…did he touch you inappropriately?”

You shook your head yet again, but the idea drew another sob from you. 

“Ma’am?” said Rojas, softly, but Boden spoke again:

“You say you passed out here but you woke up there,” he indicated the two spots with a sweep of his arm, “That means he moved you. Did he perhaps drug you? You eat or drink anything? Could he have injected you with something?”

This shocked you out of your speechless nodding and head-shaking.

“No. No, I just passed out. I was scared. I haven’t been - everything’s fine.”

The way his hips moved fractionally towards you recurred in your mind: the way you could feel his erection against your face…his throaty breathing. But then, you thought, other things didn’t match with that picture: his ‘just business’ attitude and the way he hurriedly disengaged from you after that moment. He seemed…almost as scared as you by what was happening…but he wanted you for at least a moment: that part you couldn’t deny.

And the worst thing? You couldn’t deny that, for at least a moment, you wanted him too. 

You opened your mouth to tell them, but something stopped you. It seemed wrong somehow. It seemed unfair: it was a moment of vulnerability for both of you. And then you dropped your head into your hands. What the hell was happening in your head? It seemed unfair to tell them? What was this?

“I haven’t been raped,” you said, from behind your hands. “I don’t think there was time even if he wanted to. My show was starting a minute before I passed out. When I woke up on the sofa, it was still before the first ad-break. I could only have been out for a few minutes.”

Both cops looked at you. You knew what they were thinking: it only takes a few minutes. 

You knew that was true, but as you thought back to that look in his eyes as they held yours, you knew that he didn’t. Wouldn’t.

“Everything feels fine,” you said, with as much confidence as you could muster given the instant Stockholm syndrome you seemed to be developing, “I’m not hurt. There’s no… evidence that he hurt me.”

“You got family, Miss?” said Boden, clearly concerned himself now, “Or a friend, maybe? We gotta take you down to the station but after that I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”

Herb jumped violently, spilling his tea into his saucer as Hargreeves blinked straight into his office, eyes aglow and energy high. 

He should have been expecting it, but that flash of blue light never failed to make him start, and he almost jumped again when Hargreeves slapped a file onto his desk. He didn’t bother to apologize for his rude entrance, too pumped to say what he had to say.

“Got him Herb. Guy called Chet Monroe. Real piece of shit. I don’t enjoy killing but this is one fucker the world will be better off without.”

Recovering himself, Herb swallowed his last sip of tea. 

Before today, Five Hargeeves had only failed to take out a target once before: the day he double-crossed the Commission and traveled back to 2019. When Dot brought Herb the field agents’ report that police had been seen escorting the mark from her building, completely unharmed, he’d been extremely perturbed.

 Hargreeves was still volatile and known for following his own ends, the timeline be damned. Him going rogue always meant very bad things for The Commission. So, when a message from Five arrived requesting a meeting, Herb was unsure whether to be terrified or relieved. 

As it happened, he needn’t have worried, Five was apologetic and requested to perform some recalculations. To this, Herb acquiesced immediately, just thankful to have Five working with them rather than against them. 

Herb just had time to say: “Chet Monroe?” before Five launched into his spiel. 

“Sex trafficker!” he said, triumph obvious in his voice. “He’s the meat merchant. He’s the one who sources vulnerable girls, makes them feel safe and then pulls it out from under them. When I take him out, we not only preserve the timeline, we save a few girls. Well, we save them from him, anyway. All in all, I call that a win-win. It's always nice when they're a real shitbag.”

“Let's see,” Herb said,  gesturing for the file.

“Let me do this and I’ll waive my fee on this whole thing,” Five said, sliding it closer to him.

Herb took up the file and shifted the papers inside, at the potential new mark Five had selected alongside the mark he’d failed to kill. He scanned the information and probability maps and found them sound. So why not?

He looked up at Five, smiling with more mischief than he usually employed with such an intimidating man.

“This seems more…vigilante than usual for you. I suppose your brother would be proud of you.”

Five responded with a scoff.

“You mean Diego? No, this is about me playing Batman like that idiot, this is just about the math; him being an evil piece of shit is just a bonus.”

Herb shrugged, trying to contain his smile. Five had inadvertently furthered his suspicions.

“And what’s so neat about choosing this guy,” Five continued, “is the fact he’s only one link in the chain further on. It’s minimal paperwork for the ISB guys.”

“What happens?” Herb asked, looking at the two targets side by side. A young woman and a young man from the same city. 

“Around two months after I meet her, my girl’s walking home and drops her bag. When she bends over to pick it up, Chet says something about her ass.”

Five crossed his legs and leaned backwards.

“Well, she tells him where to stick it pretty aggressively. That pisses off Chet enough to go back to his brothel and beat the shit out of one of his girls. That girl’s meant to rob a grocery store, but she can’t in a neckbrace, so yadda yadda, etcetera etcetera: the timeline goes boom.”

Herb nodded, familiar with such chain reactions. He considered: this certainly wasn't procedural, but since being in charge of the Commission, Herb had come to learn that timelines were far more malleable than he'd been led to believe. 

Most Commission procedures, he’d discovered, were more to do with matters of bureaucracy than paradox prevention. This discovery was, at first, unsettling, but now he found it oddly freeing. 

He contemplated Five for a second or two and made a decision.

“I think Dot chose that girl mainly for ease of access. Single, lives alone, no combat experience. It seemed a waste of your skills but she was in your city, in your timeframe. Wouldn't even need a briefcase.”

"So you'll sign off the switch? This guy's in my timeframe too: don't need a briefcase for him either.”

Herb grinned.

“You know,” he said, taking another sip of tea and fixing Five with a knowing look, “she sounds pretty special.”

He hadn’t missed Hargreeves calling the mark ‘my girl’, nor had he missed the look that crept into his eyes as he did so.

Five made no response to Herb’s implication, apparently choosing not to dignify it with one. 

“Will you sign it off?”

“Of course, I'm sure Dot will understand.”

With a simple nod, a flash, no thanks and no goodbye, Herb was left alone, shaking his head and smirking.

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03.  Here is a link to the whole series

This is the first chapter of four Five X OC Fics that are all posted on Ao3. I am in the process of writing a 5th. Smut is ever-present but takes a back seat to plot and character study in later instalments

[fruitcoops]

Could you maybe do that part 5 of truth or drink you alluded to?? :) with Jules and the lupins and basically Jules spilling ALLL of re’s secrets & Marley loving it 🥰

Oh, Jules, how I missed you. The truth or drink referenced in this ask is here (it's been an age since I did one, wow!) and SW credit of course goes to @lumosinlove!

“Please can we have alcohol?” Jules swung his legs under the table with wide, pleading eyes.

Marlene barked a laugh. “Over my dead body, baby Loops.”

“It would be,” Remus agreed with a teasing grin.

“Welcome back to Lion Pride, both of you,” she said, ruffling their hair. Both scrunched their faces up in identical expressions of displeasure. “There are fifteen cards in your deck, and if you don’t want to answer the question, you have to take a drink of apple juice. Not alcohol.”

“You used to be cool,” Jules sulked. Marlene rolled her eyes and Remus reached over to flick his ear. “Hey, that hurt!”

“No, it did not.”

“I’m gonna tell mom you hit me.”

Remus turned to Marlene with a long-suffering look. “Can I have alcohol?”

“Get crackin’, boys, the world wants to know your secrets.” She tapped the deck of cards with a wink and wandered behind the cameras again.

“Alright, here we go.” Remus sighed. “My name is Remus Lupin, I’m the Lions’ right wing, and I’m here with my baby brother to answer some questions. Take it away, Jules.”

“I’m not a baby,” Jules clarified to the camera. “I’m twelve. Who’s the most attractive sibling?”

Remus frowned. “Me? Just ‘cause I’m older.”

“As if.”

“Oh my god,” he muttered, reaching for his own card. “Oh, this should be fun. Name your favorite parent.”

“Dad,” Jules answered without hesitating. Remus’ eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“First, you’re not supposed to answer that fast, and second, what?”

“Dad’s cool!”

“Dad is not cool!” Remus laughed. “I don’t have a favorite parent—”

“Liar.”

“—but mom is the cool one. Dad’s a dork, and we love him for it.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe this. Mom would literally do anything for you. She learned to skate for you.”

“It’s not like I don’t love mom!” Jules protested as he took a new card. “I love her so much! And I know mom is your favorite, so it’s only fair. Which of us is the most successful, and which is the screwup?”

“I don’t have a favorite parent,” Remus insisted, leaning back in his seat. “And neither of us are screwups.”

“You’re more successful.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re a screwup. It means you’re twelve. Who’s the overachiever?”

“You,” Jules snorted. “You’re such a nerd. It’s embarrassing. What’s the meanest thing I did to you when we were kids?”

Remus rested his chin on his hand and thought for a moment, then turned to look behind the camera. “Since we were only kids together for, like, three years, can I say something from a little later?”

“Anything before age 25,” Marlene called.

He nodded decisively. “Sweet. In that case, it’s the time this little monster let a rat into the house, freaked out when he didn’t know what to do, then locked it in my bedroom and didn’t tell anyone until I went to bed and something ran across my sheets.”

Jules shrugged. “You survived.”

“Yeah, and you almost didn’t.”

“So dramatic,” he muttered.

Remus whacked him over the head with the next card before reading it. “Oh, god. Share the most mortifying memory you have of me. If you drink that apple juice and don’t answer, I’ll get you ice cream on the way home.”

Jules leaned back with a hum, already grinning. “Let’s see…”

“No,” Remus groaned.

“Probably—” Jules broke off to giggle. “Probably when you took me into the locker room to meet the team and the whole time I was talking to Sirius, you looked like you were about to melt into the floor. You had this stupid grin on your face—”

“Shut up.”

“—and almost tripped over your own feet, like, four times. This was before you guys were dating, too.”

“You are the worst,” Remus said, though his voice was muffled by his forearms. “Next question?”

“I can keep going. There was the time you gave yourself a black eye hanging Christmas lights, and when you bounced off an enforcer when you tried to check him, and when mom asked you to defrost the chicken for dinner and you forgot so you put it in the microwave and almost set the house on fire, and—“

“Marlene.” Remus raised his head with a pitiful look. “Please make him stop. Please.”

“Okay,” Marlene laughed, a little breathless. “Alright, one sec. Jules, your turn.”

“Ugh, fine. Do you let me win at things?”

“When you were five, sure.” Remus tilted his head to the side. “Otherwise, no. Do you want me to let you win?”

“I’d be so upset if you did. I only get better because I want to kick your ass one day.”

“Language. Am I a good brother?”

“Well, yeah,” Jules said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He blinked at Remus, clearly confused. “Duh. You’re weird and annoying, but you’re one of my top three favorite people?”

“Before or after dad?” Remus teased, but it was soft with fondness.

Jules narrowed his eyes and leaned his elbows on the table. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Have I ever disappointed you?”

“Never. I don’t think you could if you tried. Who’s smarter?”

“Me.” Remus gave the camera a disbelieving look as Jules took a new card. “Ha! I like this one. Which of us was a mistake?”

“Oh, that is a good one. Honestly, I don’t think either of us were planned. Mom and dad definitely weren’t expecting a kid at 21 and 25, and absolutely weren’t planning on another one fifteen years later.”

Jules cast the camera a bright smile. “Oops!”

“But we’re their best mistakes,” Remus said solemnly with the ghost of a smile, as if he was repeating a sentiment that had been said many times before. “Okay, I need to have a talk with whoever set up these questions. Do an impersonation of me, or drink to—”

“Oh, look at me, I’ve got a fancy degree,” Jules mimicked, dropping his voice comically low. “I’m so cool, I’ve got a secret boyfriend and I’m not gonna tell anyone about it for three whole months even though I suck at keeping secrets. I’m tall, so I’m gonna grab my awesome little brother by the ankles and shake him around—”

“You asked me to—”

“Shh! I’m not done!”

Remus gave him an incredulous look. “They get the point!”

Jules stuck his tongue out, but grabbed a new card from the stack. “What are your best and worst memories of mom and dad?”

“Aw, man.” Remus tapped his short stack of cards on the table and bit his lip. “Best and worst…best would probably be Christmas two or three years ago, when we all went skating on the lake.”

“That’s a good one,” Jules mused.

“It’s hard to think of my worst memory of them. Um, maybe after I stopped playing hockey in college? There was a lot of walking on eggshells and it was really uncomfortable.”

Remus read the next card and his frown dissolved into laughter; he reached for the apple juice and filled both glasses to the brim, then pushed them across the table to Jules without a word. “What are these for? You have to read the card, dummy.”

“The most spoiled sibling has to drink,” Remus said with a wide grin.

“It’s not me!” Jules protested, though it was weak. “You were an only child for fifteen years!”

“Yeah, and?” His amusement only grew as Jules struggled to make a comeback. “See, you can’t even deny it! You’re the baby of the family and everybody loves you. How many times have you been to Gryffindor?”

Jules opened and closed his mouth a few times, going red with indignance.

“How many?” Remus’ expression was pure glee. “Buddy, I didn’t leave Wisconsin for anything other than roadies until you were old enough to travel, and then mom and dad had to show you off to everyone.”

“They love you, too!”

“I know they do,” Remus laughed. “They’re great parents and we both had amazing childhoods. You’re still the more spoiled one.”

“I don’t like this game,” he muttered as he drank one of the glasses. “And I’m not drinking that other one. Okay, last question. Should we see more of each other?”

“Of course,” Remus said. “I wish we lived closer to each other all the time. Do you think so?”

Jules reached for the glass, then burst out laughing when Remus’ jaw dropped. “Oh, I got you so good! But yeah, I miss you a ton during the school year.”

“You little…” Remus bit back his threat and ruffled Jules’ hair despite his protests, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “Keep that up and you’re gonna get flipped again.”

“You wouldn’t. Not on camera.”

“Try me.”

Jules bolted from his seat and tried to make a run for it, but Remus was faster—he caught him around the waist, hefted him under one arm, and turned him around until he could get ahold of his skinny ankles. “No!” Jules shrieked through his giggling as Remus started swinging him lightly back and forth. “No, no, put me down!”

“Just making sure you really don’t want to see more of me,” Remus said, alight with happiness. Jules’ fingers nearly touched the ground. “You’re almost too big for this.”

“Good,” Jules wheezed. “Are we done yet?”

Remus looked back to the camera. “Thanks for tuning into Lion Pride, everyone. Make sure to like and subscribe if you want a slow-motion tutorial on how to transform your little brother into an emergency pendulum.”

“No!”

“Can you get down by yourself?”

Jules stretched his arms toward the floor, but Remus pulled him up an inch just as his fingertips brushed the tile. “Hey! Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Pulling me up!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus said, adding another inch.

[usagimen]

             “You’re so dull!” her shrill voice was a stabbing knife, unrelenting whenever she felt an inkling of emotion that was devoid of the usual stoic manner. Her pride was the only voice she clutched, everyone knew, they would murmur she came from a prestigious family, influenced from bankers to renowned artisans, she never forgot. Picking apart those she deemed inferior was nothing more than past time, the haughty nature always on display, but who could stand equal to the notorious ice queen? She feared it was him, standing before him, a match that was made && neither would win in the end. Betwixt slender fingers, she spins the elaborate pen, carefully tucking it back between the velvet casing. “Have I, truly? Your persistence to drag yourself into academic hell is almost alluring if it wasn’t stupid, these are easy formulas, what will you do without my assistance? Suffer?” sitting perfectly still, she moves to swoop in, clasping the tendrils of black in one effortless motion && placing them upward.

     That face of his, it reminds her of each time her aunties would scold her, be nicer, be gentler, sometimes Usagi - hubris is a bad thing. Oh, she could slip underneath the table && vanish altogether. The pang of guilt swelling in her bosom as she refused to let him escape her claws. Perking, her head tilted as she seemed genuinely confused - distracted? There was no such thing. Immaculate in her style, she refused to admit the ruffled dress && overly large cream sweater was the remainder of a poorly timed laundry routine, he would have to endure her decision. “Questionable? Everyone I tutor ends up acing the class, there is nothing to debate, I am the best” this insufferable man, her eyes rolled as she leaned forward, resting on to the wooden desk top, calloused digits that outstretched as she whined.

      Childishly groaning, her eyes roll, “Not a chance, I would never seek such a thing from you anyway, why would I to begin with? Hasn’t my score shown enough that I’m fully capable of getting my way? You make such silly assumptions. This is merely just an invitation of goodwill, that’s all. I forgot we have practice to begin with, don’t you ever have lunch or break? You’ll burn yourself out && become an old man before you know it”  

That's precisely the kind of improper behavior that frustrated him! With every frankly presumptuous remark calculated in order to gain a reaction and glean sore spots of weakness, Gino grew more irate at her utter lack of decorum and unnecessary sense of cruelty. He felt like a dog led by the chain gripped by this ojou-sama who insisted on rubbing his nose into his inadequacy to remind him of his place. No matter how unrivaled her skills were on the court or her calculations, she had no sense of discipline! It's all just a rabbit's game to her, his feelings and his pride dashed and dismissed like his efforts to reach the correct answer, but he's learned young never to give in to bullies who would only continue to poke and prod. “That's enough.”

“You've made your point.” He countered her with the strict air of control he held on the court when pressed for time and under pressure to carry his team to victory: the unflappable captain who didn't bend even in the face of unfair calls made by refs and corrupt sports politics, who could recognize when a situation had been rigged from the start. Did she sincerely expect to go unnoticed by him, despite sitting so closely with the scent of roses splashed on her nape and dressed in her cute stupid sweater? “I wouldn't have made such avoidable mistakes if you weren't distracting me, just so you could catch me on a miscalculation and offer your questionable tutoring services.”

Gino pushed his glasses further up his nose and crossed his arms, staring down at her to snuff out every attempt at mischief. “How does helping me benefit you? Are you hoping for preferential treatment or opportunities to gain the upper hand? — Give me your honest answer on the court, Kobayashi. I refuse to be late because of you.”

[moonrazeeclipse]

Day at the Amusement Park.

The last time I went to an amusement park was when I was 12 years-old. My memories have been mostly shaky, but what I can remember was the happiness and joy I felt with my mother and father.

It’s been tough for me to have fun these days. Being a 23 year-old working a typical nine-to-five shift made it difficult to have time for myself. Stressed about the quotas, the numbers, job stability, and everything else in between. Good sleep has eluded me for months.

Then I look at my girlfriend, Nicha, and my hope has never been brighter.

Ah, Nicha. Everyone else knew and recognized her as Minnie, but the closest to her called her by her real name. If I thought an average office job was a grindfest, then hers was a gauntlet. Idol life meant she had to be up as early as 3 A.M. and she’d run through several sets of makeup, practice, interviews, and appearances. During one of her off days she and her members visited my building while I just so happen to be on coffee break. One funny stare and the next thing I knew, we were hiding our relationship from the whole world.

No matter how exhausted she got, she kept that same positive, happy energy as if she had unlimited battery life. Each occasional glance as I drove to the old amusement park, she was beaming, singing along to the songs on the radio, like she were a child. This was one of her rare off days where they didn’t have any schedules, so maybe that’s the reason why she’s extra joyful too.

The park itself hadn’t changed much since I last visited all those years back. The entrance looked rusted and devoid of any life or color. There seemed to be way fewer people visiting as well. Nicha offered to take me to that newer park with those virtual reality simulators, but I turned it down with a chuckle, saying that I wasn’t making enough money to spend a day there. Regardless, we entered the place, her hand holding mine, dragging me with the brightest smile on her face.

Whatever she wanted to do, I followed along. Nicha ran ahead of me, acting like a child and not a famous, recognizable idol. Being around me must be freeing for her; she could be herself when I’m with her. None of the rides were renovated or refashioned, which gave me that nostalgic feel. Because there weren’t that many visitors, waiting only took less than ten minutes for each ride. Despite my motion sickness, I powered through the first roller coaster without a problem. The second one? I recalled hurling up minutes after getting off that one as a child. Nicha screamed her heart out on the first coaster, but was overcome by fear on the second. She leaned into my chest while I was fighting every urge not to puke mid-ride. I sought a barf bag once we got off, making her laugh.

“Ahaha! You look hilarious!” Nicha mocked.

“Why are you gloating? Don’t act like you were hiding your face on my chest.” I retorted. She blushed in embarrassment before pretending to run away. No matter how much she loved to make fun of me, I couldn’t get upset. Her wholesome smiles made her a great person to hang out with.

Walking along the park, we came across a row of booths. These booths offered challenges in exchange for prizes. Dad won me a basketball as a reward back then. Even with age, one of the game masters somehow recognized me by my eyes.

“Hey, hey! It’s been a long time! You’re all grown now!” He said, calling my attention.

“Oh, hey. How did you recognize my face?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You have your father’s eyes, that’s why! How’s he doing?” He changed the subject.

“Umm, great I guess.” I honestly didn’t know how to answer, since I haven’t spoken to him in years.

Nicha suddenly came in from behind and hugged me. The game master’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh! Is this your girlfriend? Why don’t you step up and show her your father’s talent?” He challenged me on the spot. I sighed as Nicha moved right next to me. Her beaming eyes and bright smile gave me more pressure to do well.

I was poor at sports, so I wondered how bad I’d mess up at ring toss. I didn’t have deft hands like my dad, and I wasn’t practicing at all. I’m better with keyboards, I murmured under my breath as he gave me the rings. First toss. The ring hit the bottle. My eyes widened. Second toss. The bottle was a little more distant than the first. I threw the ring and to my surprise, it hit too. Shock drowned out my girlfriend’s cheers and the yell of the game master. One more ring, one more toss. The bottle was placed at a greater distance compared to the earlier ones. I was doing better than I thought, so maybe my luck would run out on this turn. I flung the last ring, and time seemingly slowed down as I released it from my grip.

One, two, three, four, five. Bingo.

Nicha hugged me in celebration. I made all three tosses as the game master applauded me. Wow. Honestly, that may have been divine intervention, considering how awful I am at these games. It must have been five minutes before I moved because I stayed frozen in place, unable to let my victory sink in.

“You do have your father’s genes in you after all! Go ahead and pick a prize.” The game master said, snapping me back to reality.

I turned to Nicha, implying that she could choose the prize. She took the hint and pointed at a gigantic brown teddy bear. The game master grabbed it from the shelf and handed it over to me. I gave the stuffed animal to her, and she buried her face on its belly.

“Aaahh it’s so fluffy! You’re really good at this, Minki!” She cuddled the bear as I just chuckled and waved goodbye to the game master.

The rest of our day at the park was just riding the rest of the attractions and eating an ice cream sandwich along the way. Nicha and I had so much fun together, refusing to let go of the teddy bear. The sun had set and nightfall came, and our time was almost up. But before we left, there was one more ride we hadn’t gone in. The ferris wheel.

The passenger cabins were suited for four people, so we hopped on one, including our stuffed animal. She placed the bear next to her as the wheel began moving. From where I sat I could see the bright lights of the highway, overlooking the specks of people thousands of feet in the air. Nicha looked out the window before turning to me, taking my hand.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today,” she said, caressing my hand gently and pecking it. “Thank you.”

I gazed into her eyes, gleaming brighter than the stars in the night sky. She stared back at me, looking at me the same way. Then something sprung in me to lock lips with her. Nicha sunk into the kiss, pulling me close and our tongues swirled with each other. She was sweeter and tastier than dessert. I cupped her cheek and she placed her palm on mine, running it across her face.

She broke the kiss and slowly spread my legs. I panicked a little because of the situation we’re in. Nicha feigned ignorance and unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down alongside my boxers.

“Nicha! We’re still in public, remember?”

“Your cock says otherwise,” she replied, slapping my hardened cock with her hand. “I’ve been missing you so much. I can’t help myself.”

She seized my balls, giving them a rub. “You’re full. You’ve been missing me too.”

I groaned as she kissed me from my balls, making her way up to my tip. Her soft lips felt so good on my shaft. She looked at me with widened eyes, satisfied with the pleasure she’s giving me. I slumped into my seat and closed my eyes, allowing the euphoria of her swirling tongue to override my brain. If that wasn’t enough, she added her sensual moans into her slurps, giving me tingles up my spine.

My hands flowed through her black locks, while the rest of my body just numbed in pleasure. I didn’t realize she took me in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. Nicha bobbed her head back and forth, coating my shaft with her saliva. We didn’t care if anyone caught us in the lewd act. Nicha had her way with me and my body happily fell under control.

Pop. She released me from her mouth after blowing me off for a while. I was really sinking into that excitable feeling too. Appropriate timing too, as she finished up just as the car was about to reach ground level. I quickly buttoned up my pants as she pretended like she didn’t suck my cock leaving the pod.

We reached my car just as the park was closing, and she gave me a few pecks on the cheek. “When we get home, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you fuck me wherever you want.” The thought of her splayed body already riled me up and I couldn’t be any more excited to drive home.

I turned the key. Rough gruffs roared from the engine. Again. Gruffs. In frustration I slapped my hands against the steering wheel. The car couldn’t start. Fuck.

“I just had it checked last week,” I grumbled. It was second hand but I didn’t have any excuse. Nicha giggled. She was still smiling as she watched me suffer and curse my car out. Oh, no matter how terrible a day gets, you’re always the jovial one.

Conveniently there was a subway station nearby whose line started and ended at the park. We both got out of the car and decided to take the train home. Nicha still refused to let go of the teddy bear.

Entering one of the cars, we sat at the back end of the left row. All the walking wore our legs out, so I slumped down in my seat. Nicha set the bear at the corner chair before sitting beside me. Drowsiness began kicking in and soon enough, I fell into a deep sleep holding my girlfriend’s hand tightly.

I felt a sensation below my chest that woke me up. My eyes opened slowly, vision blurring my sight. I looked to my left and saw only the teddy bear. She probably went to the bathroom, I thought. I tried going back to sleep, but I felt that twitching in my stomach again. I looked down and to my surprise, my pants were on the ground. Nicha was on her knees, sucking my erect cock.

“Nicha! What did I say about doing this in public?” I whispered, trying to avoid causing a disturbance with the nearby passengers.

She responded by taking more of me into her mouth, making me moan with her humming sounds. “Mmph, I can’t help myself. Your cock rubbed on me as we slept.”

It took all of my willpower not to submit to pleasure, but I was able to scout the area. There weren’t a lot of people on this late train ride home, except a man wearing a business suit calling someone on his phone seated on the opposite aisle.

I slowly hopped from one chair to the next using the rail, keeping Nicha busy on my shaft without her letting go into it. My free hands lifted the stuffed bear from its seat and placed it to where I was sitting. The prized toy was huge enough to act as camouflage from unsuspecting train-goers.

“Yeah. Let’s discuss the business trip to Japan at the cafe. I’ll move up so you can spot me as I get off,” the man said as he stood up from his seat and trudged to the front.

I sighed a breath of relief, but that was only a temporary win. I looked below to see how Nicha was doing and my eyes widened. She stripped off her overalls as her bare legs were now exposed.

“Nicha!” I almost screamed, panicking at the situation she’d got us into. She giggles at my reaction before kissing my tip with her soft lips.

“While you were busy covering us up I took my overalls off. I really can’t wait for you to fill me inside.” She said matter-of-factly.

I groaned in annoyance but I couldn’t help myself. She was opening herself and I guess my patience ran out too.

“We still have a few more stops to go before our stop,” She added, stroking me with her fingers.

My psyche crumbled under her control again. I resisted her lips, but not her hands rapidly pumping my cock. I threw my head back and allowed the pleasure to jack my brain, grazing my hands on her hair again.

I must have drowned deeply to the delight of Nicha’s handjob that I ignored the dings and voice of the operator over the speaker indicating the train’s destination. My eyes, struggling to open, somehow caught a glimpse of a few new passengers entering the car. Quickly I bent over and took her overalls as well as my large coat and veiled my crotch. She continued jerking me off under the covers, eager to get me to orgasm. The commuters gave me either  weird or neutral looks as they walked by. I gave them a gaze of exhaustion, pretending as if I was ill. I just hope they didn’t notice the suspicious bulge below me.

Most of the travelers moved onto another cabin but some of them sat a few rows behind or ahead of ours. Thankfully none decided to sit in the same aisle as us. My hands, which were positioned on my lap, were grabbed by Nicha. She led it down to her clit and I felt her wetness. Even with some bush she was clearly dripping.

“Fuck me, please,” She whispered, each word laced with lust. “I’m so wet for you, babe.”

I hoisted her from the floor and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I rose for a minute before sitting down with her on me. I carefully lined my shaft against her crotch before burying my cock in her walls. She let out a lengthy, low moan as I started ramming into her tight pussy. My hands snuck through her shirt, pinching her taut nipples, making her squeal.

I could feel her juices cream my hair as I grinded back and forth, making sure she feels every inch of my length. One hand escapes her shirt to cover her mouth, preventing her from letting out wild screams. I pulled her face close to mine, her features indicating pleasure as our lips met for a shaky, passionate kiss.

As we continued making out my eyes caught a glimpse of a stewardess slowly making her way across the cabin, punching passengers’ tickets. I broke the kiss off and drove Nicha into my chest, bundling our bodies with her overalls and my coat. The attendant reached us, her formal smile shifting to a confused look at the weird image ahead of her.

“Oh I’m sorry, is she okay?” She asked matter-of-factly.

“Y-yeah. She’s just a little ill, so I’m warming her up, that’s all.” I answered, nodding repeatedly.

Nicha sold my act by freezing in my arms. I reached into my coat and pulled out two tickets. She punched them and smiled as she walked by, believing my lie.

My girlfriend looked me in the eyes, lust ridden over them. I squeal as her finger reaches my cock, still buried in her soaked cunt, stroking me off. Through the pleasant sensation I managed to keep my eyes alert, watching the passengers slowly leave one by one at the next stop. Now it was just the two of us in this cable car.

“We’re alone. Fuck me,” She said as the train started moving again.

Perhaps her eagerness drove me to thrust into her a lot faster than I thought. I rocked back and forth on the chair, drilling her with my shaft. Nicha closed her eyes and let the pleasure fill her, her mouth making a wide ‘O’ shape. At this point we ran out of care for our surroundings, made clear by our audible moaning. Her hands claw my nape and hair deeply, her slender figure bouncing up and down my lap.

The tightness of her pussy, as well as her soft, seductive moans made it hard for me to keep control. I was losing another round to her lewdness and this one would be the hardest of them all. I was all but ready to climax, only slowing down my pumps to keep the euphoria last longer.

“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” I whispered.

“On me. Fill me, please. Fill me with your cum.”

One. Two. Three. With a heavy groan I reached my peak. I felt shots of warm semen fill her womb. I pumped through my orgasm, shooting flecks of cum in her until I was drained. My hips stopped grinding. I put my head down in exhaustion over that intense, risky session. She cupped my face then kissed me on the cheek.

“T-that was s-so g-good. I can’t wait until we get home for more.”

There’s a clear trail of white on my chair and on my pants. My cock slipped out of her slit as I set her down on the ground.

“This is the last station! Thank you for riding with us.” The operator announced over the intercom. We’re almost at our destination.

I pulled her overalls off my coat and threw it at Nicha. “Put these on, we still have to walk home.”

“I don’t wanna,” she pouted. “I want to go home with your cum dripping down on me.”

I sighed. Nicha decided to be bratty on the way home, when everything was almost perfect and after all we’ve been through. But what else can I do?

I gave her my coat as I took her overalls and placed it in my bag. We got off the train with her wearing my coat, our mixed juices still running down her legs. We enjoyed our little walk home, having forgotten the prized teddy bear that she was attached to all day long, but that didn’t matter. As soon as we reached home, we stuffed our bodies into each other throughout the night.

—————

And that’s my first work done. I didn’t do a lot of editing as I was excited to publish this one. I finally decided to jump into the world of smut writing after being inspired for a while now. Thank you for reading!

[kvetchlandia]

Harold Chapman     Allen Ginsberg, the Beat Hotel, 9 Rue Gît-le-Cœur, Paris     1956

Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I’ve been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph the rhythm the rhythm—and your memory in my head three years after—And read Adonais’ last triumphant stanzas aloud—wept, realizing how we suffer— And how Death is that remedy all singers dream of, sing, remember, prophesy as in the Hebrew Anthem, or the Buddhist Book of Answers—and my own imagination of a withered leaf—at dawn— Dreaming back thru life, Your time—and mine accelerating toward Apocalypse, the final moment—the flower burning in the Day—and what comes after,   looking back on the mind itself that saw an American city a flash away, and the great dream of Me or China, or you and a phantom Russia, or a crumpled bed that never existed— like a poem in the dark—escaped back to Oblivion— No more to say, and nothing to weep for but the Beings in the Dream, trapped in its disappearance, sighing, screaming with it, buying and selling pieces of phantom, worshipping each other, worshipping the God included in it all—longing or inevitability?—while it lasts, a Vision—anything more? It leaps about me, as I go out and walk the street, look back over my shoulder, Seventh Avenue, the battlements of window office buildings shouldering each other high, under a cloud, tall as the sky an instant—and the sky above—an old blue place. or down the Avenue to the south, to—as I walk toward the Lower East Side—where you walked 50 years ago, little girl—from Russia, eating the first poisonous tomatoes of America—frightened on the dock— then struggling in the crowds of Orchard Street toward what?—toward Newark— toward candy store, first home-made sodas of the century, hand-churned ice cream in backroom on musty brownfloor boards— Toward education marriage nervous breakdown, operation, teaching school, and learning to be mad, in a dream—what is this life? Toward the Key in the window—and the great Key lays its head of light on top of Manhattan, and over the floor, and lays down on the sidewalk—in a single vast beam, moving, as I walk down First toward the Yiddish Theater—and the place of poverty you knew, and I know, but without caring now—Strange to have moved thru Paterson, and the West, and Europe and here again, with the cries of Spaniards now in the doorstoops doors and dark boys on the street, fire escapes old as you -Tho you’re not old now, that’s left here with me— Myself, anyhow, maybe as old as the universe—and I guess that dies with us—enough to cancel all that comes—What came is gone forever every time— That’s good! That leaves it open for no regret—no fear radiators, lacklove, torture even toothache in the end— Though while it comes it is a lion that eats the soul—and the lamb, the soul, in us, alas, offering itself in sacrifice to change’s fierce hunger—hair and teeth—and the roar of bonepain, skull bare, break rib, rot-skin, braintricked Implacability. Ai! ai! we do worse! We are in a fix! And you’re out, Death let you out, Death had the Mercy, you’re done with your century, done with God, done with the path thru it—Done with yourself at last—Pure—Back to the Babe dark before your Father, before us all—before the world— There, rest. No more suffering for you. I know where you’ve gone, it’s good. No more flowers in the summer fields of New York, no joy now, no more fear of Louis, and no more of his sweetness and glasses, his high school decades, debts, loves, frightened telephone calls, conception beds, relatives, hands— No more of sister Elanor,.—she gone before you—we kept it secret—you killed her—or she killed herself to bear with you—an arthritic heart—But Death’s killed you both—No matter— Nor your memory of your mother, 1915 tears in silent movies weeks and weeks—forgetting, aggrieve watching Marie Dressler address humanity, Chaplin dance in youth, or Boris Godunov, Chaliapin’s at the Met, hailing his voice of a weeping Czar—by standing room with Elanor & Max—watching also the Capitalists take seats in Orchestra, white furs, diamonds, with the YPSL’s hitch-hiking thru Pennsylvania, in black baggy gym skirts pants, photograph of 4 girls holding each other round the waste, and laughing eye, too coy, virginal solitude of 1920 all girls grown old, or dead, now, and that long hair in the grave—lucky to have husbands later— You made it—I came too—Eugene my brother before (still grieving now and will gream on to his last stiff hand, as he goes thru his cancer—or kill—later perhaps—soon he will think—) And it’s the last moment I remember, which I see them all, thru myself, now—tho not you I didn’t foresee what you felt—what more hideous gape of bad mouth came first—to you—and were you prepared? To go where? In that Dark—that—in that God? a radiance? A Lord in the Void? Like an eye in the black cloud in a dream? Adonoi at last, with you? Beyond my remembrance! Incapable to guess! Not merely the yellow skull in the grave, or a box of worm dust, and a stained ribbon—Deathshead with Halo? can you believe it? Is it only the sun that shines once for the mind, only the flash of existence, than none ever was? Nothing beyond what we have—what you had—that so pitiful—yet Triumph, to have been here, and changed, like a tree, broken, or flower—fed to the ground—but mad, with its petals, colored, thinking Great Universe, shaken, cut in the head, leaf stript, hid in an egg crate hospital, cloth wrapped, sore—freaked in the moon brain, Naughtless. No flower like that flower, which knew itself in the garden, and fought the knife—lost Cut down by an idiot Snowman’s icy—even in the Spring—strange ghost thought—some Death—Sharp icicle in his hand—crowned with old roses—a dog for his eyes—cock of a sweatshop—heart of electric irons. All the accumulations of life, that wear us out—clocks, bodies, consciousness, shoes, breasts—begotten sons—your Communism—‘Paranoia’ into hospitals. You once kicked Elanor in the leg, she died of heart failure later. You of stroke. Asleep? within a year, the two of you, sisters in death. Is Elanor happy? Max grieves alive in an office on Lower Broadway, lone large mustache over midnight Accountings, not sure. l His life passes—as he sees—and what does he doubt now? Still dream of making money, or that might have made money, hired nurse, had children, found even your Immortality, Naomi? I’ll see him soon. Now I’ve got to cut through—to talk to you—as I didn’t when you had a mouth. Forever. And we’re bound for that, Forever—like Emily Dickinson’s horses—headed to the End. They know the way—These Steeds—run faster than we think—it’s our own life they cross—and take with them.

      Magnificent, mourned no more, marred of heart, mind behind, married dreamed, mortal changed—Ass and face done with murder.       In the world, given, flower maddened, made no Utopia, shut under pine, almed in Earth, balmed in Lone, Jehovah, accept.       Nameless, One Faced, Forever beyond me, beginningless, endless, Father in death. Tho I am not there for this Prophecy, I am unmarried, I’m hymnless, I’m Heavenless, headless in blisshood I would still adore       Thee, Heaven, after Death, only One blessed in Nothingness, not light or darkness, Dayless Eternity—       Take this, this Psalm, from me, burst from my hand in a day, some of my Time, now given to Nothing—to praise Thee—But Death       This is the end, the redemption from Wilderness, way for the Wonderer, House sought for All, black handkerchief washed clean by weeping—page beyond Psalm—Last change of mine and Naomi—to God’s perfect Darkness—Death, stay thy phantoms!

-- Allen Ginsberg, “Kaddish, pt. 1″ 1959

[levi-ish]

Enough is Enough | Jean Kirstein

Summary: It took you three years, three years avoiding something that was bound to happen; something he truly wanted to pretend would never happen. Three years after going on and off with him to finally break you, to the point that you were in the same spot you found yourself every week, on Jean’s chest, crying until your eyes were dry and your throat was burning from the inside out.

Pairing: Jean X Reader

Genre: [+18] angst, smut

Warnings: manipulation, cheating

Masterlist

“Enough is enough.”

It took you three years, three years avoiding something that was bound to happen; something he truly wanted to pretend would never happen. Three years after going on and off with him to finally break you, to the point that you were in the same spot you found yourself every week, on Jean’s chest, crying until your eyes were dry and your throat was burning from the inside out.

He never complained. He would always open the door for you to come in and lay all your sorrows onto him, crying while stuffing your mouth with ice cream and cheap wine until you felt sick, the same routine every time, like it was scheduled. Jean liked to joke about you being his own thunderstorm, that came around and shook everything up — but in truth, it was because you were a mess that was destroying everything around you.

He never complained. He would put you to bed after getting sick because of all the alcohol in your system, give you aspirins and water to make you feel better the next morning, give you the best duvet, the fuzzy one so you would feel better while cuddling it and leave the room all to yourself. He didn’t want to intrude, but would check on you every 30 minutes, to make sure you hadn’t thrown up all over the place.

He never complained. He didn’t mind that he had the work next morning, or that he had classes earlier the day, because it took only one smile from you and he was done for the week.

It would take only a smile and you were gone, as if you were never there in the first place, back in some guys arms again as you held the same genuine smile. As if you were meant to be there in the first place.

It took you three years to admit that you were broken.

For years Jean secretly hoped you would realize how bad you were hurting yourself, fingering your own wounds like it was pleasurable. Playing in your own blood as guys threw themselves upon you, offering amazing things, like you were a shiny new toy that became dull overnight.

But then, three years ago, you were introduced to his friend group, in a house party that was too big for you two, almost overbearing, and when Jean went to grab you a drink, a knight in a shining armor introduced himself as Eren, and suddenly, things changed—

—for the worse.

Eren was the same, but he held his face high, his ego above his head as he spoke to anyone. You’d get that feeling of comfort instantly, as if he was your soulmate or whatever, and that was the problem — that he was able to make you his as soon as he landed his eyes on you.

You told Jean yourself about the things you would hear: ‘you’re perfect’, ‘I’m yours’, ‘we are meant to be’, ‘you can trust me’; and all that repeated itself whenever he fucked up. And he did. Real bad.

He never bothered to make it official, he knew he had you on his feet, worshiping his every movement and serving as a rug for him to step on without care. He would hook up with random girls at parties, bars, places where you could watch from afar and suffer from the same heartbreak. But as soon as he was done, he would go back to you, hold your hands and make you feel as though you were to blame for his actions, and that taking him back was the best you could do.

And that sickened Jean.

It wasn’t because he was in love with you, no, but because he couldn’t stand to watch you break your face every time and collect your pieces to glue them back, hoping they would stay the same. He knew how bad it hurt you, and how bad it felt to feel unrequited. He just wished things were different.

So he did the same thing he would do every time you came; he put on the same old mask and held you tight in his arms as you cried deeply.

But this time, it wasn’t like the others.

You looked up from hiding in his chest, eyes teary and reddening from all the crying as you both laid on the floor, only supported by each others bodies. You had this angry rush going through your veins and being explicitly shown in your gaze, but there was something soft inside, something like peaking curiosity, like there was something you weren’t all that sure that moment.

“Enough is enough” you said as you stared right into his soul. Jean was confused, he had never seen this look, this thundering inside your orbs, like something was about to breakthrough and leave a mess behind. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Jean put one of his hands on your cheek, wiping the running tears from your face with his thumb and you leaned into his palm, now holding his wrist with your two hands, eyes never leaving him.

“Take me, Jean. Please” you pleaded as her nails dug into his skin, and now he was more confused than ever. His blood rushed through his veins faster than before and he swore that his muscles would burn his skin apart.

Wha—

“Make me forget” you moved her fingers to his face, holding his jaw in place and sniffing, containing your tears so they wouldn’t fall once more.

“I-I can’t!” He managed to say, shaking his head, and holding your forearms. “You’re blinded by the sadness, I—”

“I know what I want!” you stated, your tone was firm and self-assured, making every hair on his body stand as your eyes shot bullets through his. “I need you, Jean. You’re the one. I know you’ll make it all go away.”

You didn’t give him any warnings before connecting your lips. It was everything he ever imagined and more; the softness, the velvety tongue, the way your rhythm seemed to match his as you both held onto each other like your lives depended on it. He almost went crazy when your fingers started to explore his honeyed strands, holding his head in place while you commanded every move.

Jean snapped out of his trance and put his hands on your back, grasping your body with such tightness, as if you would run away, but the way your mouths danced together, it made him feel calmer about his fears and give in.

He loved the way you made he feel, as you praised him with cold fingertips and gave him truth in your comfort with every peck, butterfly touches flew through his skin while your whimpers began to grow. His arms hugged your small form as you climbed on his thighs to straddle him, shooting goosebumps on the poor man.

You leaned back for a moment, watching his moonlit face as his lips were covered in a shiny gleam, the same as yours. His hands moved to your waist, grabbing the fat there and massaging just above the bone as you took off your jacket without breaking eye contact, heading to the t-shirt you were wearing.

He didn’t want to look down, not wanting to disrespect you in any form, until you guided his big hands to your bare breasts, feeling the hotness of his palms as he grabbed them gently. You threw your head back slightly, letting out a soft hum and grinding slowly, making small groans form deep in his throat.

Jean gave you one small look to make sure you were consenting and dove into your skin, his hot mouth engulfing your nipples, giving the same treatment to each of them, rounding the little erect nub with his tongue. He had never been so close to you, and for years that had been the thing he wanted the most, so he made sure to enjoy while it lasted; he wanted you to feel how much he had wanted you.

You held onto his hair as you threw your head back, savoring each of the new sensations you got to experience that moment. He licked a path to your neck, feeling your heartbeats on the tip of his tongue and giving the sweet spot you held there open mouth kisses, praising with silent movements.

He trailed a way back to your lips, mouth ghosting over your sensitive skin until he found his desired destination. You welcomed him back there, holding his face as his hands were firm on your hips, guiding your every move as you felt him growing more and more by the time.

It took a little while for you to decide that it was enough and you stood, unbuttoning your pants and kicking them aside, rushing back to the mess of a man she’d let on the floor. Jean unbuckled his belt quickly as you found yourself sitting back on his lap, giving desperate pecks to his lips as he had pushed his clothes just enough to spring his hot member free.

The darkness and desperation didn’t allow you to stare for too long, quickly moving your panties to the side and sliding down on his shaft, a long mewl leaving your lips as he groaned into yours. From half-lidded eyes, you studied his expression; he had his brows furrowed and held his lower lip between his teeth, his hands gripping back on your thighs as you moved slowly.

It felt amazing, he loved how hot and wet you were, how desperate your hands tried to grab everything they could find, just so they could hold onto your desires. He loved the way your breaths came together as one and how hot the room around him felt. He loved how your nails dug onto his skin, making sure the half-crescents would be stained there the next day. But most of all, he loved how you’d chosen him to bless with your body and soul, and how connected he felt to you.

And oh, the way you moaned his name over and over as you felt him filling you up so good, he swore that was the sight that he wanted for the rest of his life.

“Ngh, Jean” you pleaded, a series of whimpers leaving your mouth. “I’m cumming.”

He held onto you tighter now, feeling the heat that pooled in his lower stomach now rush to his cock, hands going up and down your back as you got off from the closeness and hot breaths. Your grip turned stronger on his shoulders and you buried your face in the nape of his neck, moans now clearer and a mess of words falling from your mouth.

But there was one thing that he heard in the brim of the moment, that stuck onto him and was now the reason of his climax.

“I’m yours.”

You kept on repeating those words amongst sweet nothings in his ear, like a little devil trying to manipulate your thoughts, and then, you two had reached your highs, left dozing off on the wooden floor of his apartment.

It made him the happiest, to take you over and over, all night long, eyes craving into each others as the melodies of your mewls were the only things in his mind. He praised you all night long with his mouth, his cock, his body, and soul, making sure you knew you were loved and wanted the way you’d always wanted to be.

And then it was morning, and as soon as the sunlight hit Jean’s eyes, he knew it had to be a dream, a reality that would’ve only mattered to him. He turned to the side to find the empty bed, thrown covers as if you’d left in a hurry, not bothering to say goodbye, not bothering to leave behind his beating heart, his whole soul that was handed to you the night before.

Not even a note.

He would sight, feeling the emptiness rush back into his chest as he grabbed his phone, seeing that Eren had uploaded a new story, and he had the feeling he knew what it was already. And there it was, only a picture of your legs on his bed, and it was enough for him to know that he had helped you feed your lie.

You were a thunderstorm after all.

It took you three years to realize that you were stuck in something you’d gotten yourself into. And it took you one night to ruin him completely.

[b0kksu]

           “Yeah, but you’re still here” it’s plain, matter of fact, greeted with an idle shrug of spindle-like shoulders. Bird bones && teal yukatas, the sun that grazes his belly as he laughs billowing like a God, this life was rather cruel to break them apart wasn’t it? Suddenly the trove of sugary confections no longer brings him delight, his stomach still feels sour, faint with the grotesque display. Humans like the melody he produces, they praised him since he was young, echoes of the great house encourage that the feeble construct of humanity’s psyche could not fully bear the weight of the truth. If their beloved was nothing more than a monster, he would be one of the greatest quinque’s the likes of the CCG would have ever seen. Somehow, in the midst of deafening silence, he believes it was a better end than suffocating on the desire to be heard && seen.

          Each key, softly stroked then pressed with an intensity, ivory brows - meticulous in style, pierced together as the melody was a desperate plea && indescribable sorrow, to live between worlds was the utmost suffering && suffering was the mark of greatness. The empty seat that was once filled torments him; laughs, mocks his existence. You should be furious, it reminds him, an act of insolence requires a great penance, but you’re too weak to ever act on such violence. Gojo Satoru did not know fragility, he did not understand anything less than the perch he sat upon or the cage that remained around him, he was greater than the average ghoul && superior to that of a human; he was special.

        Yet, it never seemed to bring him any joy, others would balk such a rarity was a gift, then why did it feel like a crux he must carry? I loved you, was it not enough? You were my everything, how could you betray me? I miss you, I can’t stand this. The bleeding wound is fractured, more than he cares to admit, “It’s still mine, intruder” a childish response, low in a hiss as his long legs stretch out from underneath him, blood splatter on light denim, fingers in his red hoodie’s pocket. “You catered to my desires by your own hands” monochromatic his gaze suddenly snaps, piercing as the weeping eye seeps through blue, cautionary though he would not react. The tip of his nose scrunches upwards in a sneer, palatable disgust, “Stop that, don’t act as if you’re suddenly denounced of individual will. It was of your own doing, I never forced you to act as an attendant to wait on me, when will you ever take responsibility?” the heavy sigh erupts from strawberry stained lips.

          This would end with a knife in the belly, twisted, lacerating every organ on the way out. “No, what are you trying so hard to run from?” this wasn’t what he expected, neon lights && the cool nocturnal air stroking his cheek, that was all he wanted, far away from the suffocation of nostalgia that lingered in the old apartment. Sometimes, he could hear their melody entwined together as it was, a song that once belonged to them both now only sung by one. A heart divides, paths that divert from one another, though he looks back - foolishly, mourning over the frustration of each broken dream. “Get over yourself, there’s nothing to prove, did you think I’d wait forever?” Suddenly, the paper bag is dropped, his form lifting from the ground moving to turn. Melted ice-cream, designer glasses, all the bits && pieces that were uniquely composed of him, whatever was left remained mangled.

          “You still have this belief I’m nothing more than some trembling lordling, who could never survive without the benevolence of a kind && pious man like you but are you truly that of virtue to wait upon me? You're lying to yourself, because it's not me who is licking the blood from the floor - just you”

There's a sick satisfaction in being seen that bordered on the very perversion Satoru accused him of, something that scratched at his cerebrum at the right intervals about being acknowledged for his abnormalities that had Suguru feeling equally hollowed and heated. ( Haha, this must be what burning felt like. This must be what drowning felt like. It's easy for death to orbit his thoughts between hunger and violence. Suguru wondered which was more merciful between Satoru and the sea. Between Satoru and the sun; between God and hunger, what's a better way to burn? ) It reminded him of scorching summer days spent underneath endless blue skies, where cicadas etched into tree bark burned their songs echoing through his bone marrow into his memory. The sharp laughter that left him was unholy, the collective ghost of those screaming cicadas. “You're the one watching.”

Regardless of his clever guise, Satoru's words rang true. Suguru never liked being caught with blood in his mouth, because the shame would fill his stomach faster than his teeth could work through flesh. It felt like an unwilling admission too heavy on the ego to be seen this way, imposed upon him by another. What sound arguments and justifications could erupt from a mouth tainted with blood, anyway? What could a cannibal's tongue plead? You're right, I'm a monster. You're right, there's something wrong with me. You're right like God, and I'm the guilty one in your eyes. I'm the filthy one for being born and sated this way. ( It's your fault. )

“It isn't your territory if you don't participate in hunting on these grounds, Satoru. It's only somewhere you visit frequently, so you can mingle with humans.” The taste's bittersweet. The tone's matter of fact, curt and chastising. His fingers beckoned for the sharp edge of his teeth to pry open his own jaw and regurgitate what's now dead. “You're the one who seems to be getting a kick out of watching me eat, pervert.”

There's no sense of mirth, no lightheartedness to speak of with a heavy stomach that sunk like the sands of time through a hourglass shattered like his violin to no avail. There's no need for symbols or allegory, no room for mythologization or metaphor when there's blood in his mouth. Even if Satoru couldn't really see it. “That's the past. When are you going to accept that instead of forcing me to indulge your nostalgia and cater to your needs? I've never been anything but myself, so don't get so cocky deciding what's old and what's new. — Don't start dividing me in your mind, Satoru.”

( What are you trying to prove, Suguru? ) “What are you trying to prove, Satoru?” ( That you're better off? Good for you. ) “Well, congratulations on your independence. Is that what you wanted to hear from me? Or did you come to eat? Show me.”

[forthechubbies]

What's Wrong With Secretary Park?!

Synopsis• If balancing work and a stubborn ex-husband isn't hard enough, Let's add the boss’s seven sons falling head over heels for her to mix.

Category's• Romcon, Comedy, Office Au.

Duos• BTS X Reader

A spin-off of the original series ‘ What's Wrong With Secretary Kim’ Bangtan Edition! Starring the Handsome, Seo-Joon Park as the Ex husband.

There will be more parts but I didn’t want the title to be to long.

EP. One Two

“ Mrs. Park, Good Morning!”

“Mrs. Park, What does my schedule look like today?”

“Mrs. Park, Your coffee keeps me alive.”

In case you haven’t noticed, Park Yn, I’m the secretary to Jeon Sung-ho, the CEO of Dnd Parmatech, 85 percent of the time, newly build hospitals or centers use our funds as kickstarts. Daily I make schedules, appointments, filing documents, answering calls, and blah blah blah.

Is it boring? Yes, I know. However, quite refreshing coming from my hectic marriage. Once upon a time, I was wedded to the marvelous actor Park Seo-Joon for three years. I sat in the limelight and even had the privilege to play the part of his wife in movies. Sigh. Although the attention and riches were grand, no amount of expensive counseling could save our marriage. We never saw eye to eye on anything, and his short temper wasn’t helping.

Knowing my worth, I packed up and left without a doubt in my head. However, The documentation of our separation wasn’t finalized due to a certain one refusing to sign off on the divorce agreement. So physically, I’m still Mrs. Park but ain’t no piece of paper telling who I belong too.

Whatever! I have too much to focus on already! Game on, Game on! First, I got to get these papers approved and signed by Mr. Jeon then-

Buzz Buzz Buzz!

Who’s calling-

Speak of the devil. I could have sworn I deleted his contact a long time ago! “ What Seo-Joon? I’m busy-“

“ When is this little temper tantrum going to end? Darling, I think you made your point.”

“My point?! Listen here, You slimy son of-” Now, Now Yn calm down calm down don’t let him get a rise out you that just what he wants. A quick exhale should do the trick. “ Seo-Joon, I believe we reached an agreed on no type of communication unless it revolves around the settlement for the divorce.”

How is it possible I can physically see his snarky face?

Seo-Joon stretched out his list of complaints.” It’s been over a year. I miss your kisses, soft skin, that cute birthmark on your-“

“ You will not talk about such embarrassing things over the phone!” Thank goodness, Nobody was around to hear me shot like that.

“Why is this divorce still an issue?!” There goes that temper again-How whinny can one man be? “ If you don’t stop this, I will take matters into my own hands.”

I laughed. “ Ha, Seo-jerk, I’m not scared of you! Do your worst because It doesn’t matter if you drag me back home; it doesn’t subside the problem being over our marriage.” I feel like a broken record at this point. “ If this isn’t about the papers, this conversation is over, Mr. Park; please refrain from calling me again, goodbye.”

He chuckled and mumbled something along the lines of, “ Your cute acting cheeky like this.” The rest he continued louder “ Those delicate hands of yours were made to indulge in the finest silk and satin I can obtain, not working nine to five at whatever job hired a housewife with zero work ethic. I just know I haven’t touched your side of the room since that night- I love you, Mrs.Park, I always will.”

He hung up. You know, after he finished insulting my new lifestyle and calling me a useless housewife, the ‘ I love you’ bit at the end sounds sincere, but he is an actor! Of course.

Hmph! Just because I’m working for myself for one doesn’t mean I’m miserable. I’m actually in love with my job, It pays well with benefits, and I sat on my butt all day. If that pompous little bedazzled turd thinks making me the butt of his jokes will get me back in his arms, he has another thing coming!

“Um, Mrs. Park?”

“ What!” I snapped. “ Oh, Hoseok, I’m sorry!” I bowed my head; the poor thing nearly jumped out of his shoes.

Hoseok beamed his warm heart-shaped smile at me. “ Oppa is having a family meeting today; I guess I’m the first to show.”

I wasn’t informed about a meeting today from Mr.Jeon, maybe because it’s a family affair.

“Tada!” He cutely squeaks. A tasteful package breakfast alongside a tall cup of what I presume is a coffee from..’ Thanks Nature’!

“Oh my- Hobi, this cafe is across town-”

“I overhead Oppa scolding you for skipping meals one day and I’m here to do the same, don’t skip meals or else We will be hurt if something happens to you.” Hoseok pointed at the pack. “ Eat every bit.”

Hoseok displayed a small heart using his index finger and thumb, hopping off to his father’s double doors.

Mr. Jeon has seven sons in all. The man is a true saint; men like him and his sons are why I still believe not all men are dogs. After losing his wife to heart cancer, He just about went bankrupt, donating all he had to have found cures to multiple diseases hoping nobody else had to suffer his same heartbreak.

Love found him again in an orphanage just north of here, ‘Seoul Children Home.’ His first son, Kim Seokjin, at the time Jin was already in his teenage years, making it difficult for him to find a family due to the high demand of couples wanting a single-digit child. His birth family mistreated him, but he was beaten everywhere except his face to keep his handsome appearance. The family decided to put his money-maker to fair use and attempted to sell him. Seokjin saw his opportunity and high-tailed, landing himself in the orphanage where he happily lends a helping hand every chance he got. He learned how to read, write, cook, clean, and even tend to the tots when the nuns were busy.

This is how he met his slightly younger brothers, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, and Kim Namjoon; when being chosen for adoption, Seokjin refused to live without his baby brothers by his side.

“ Hello, Noona!”

Oh, Look just in time, “ Hello, You’re father is in his office.”

Namjoon eyed my edible gift from Hobi and raised his eyebrow as well as a question. “ So this is why Hyung left so early in the morning for-and I hope you’re having a good morning, Noona.”

I’m not older than them. Why do they call me Noona? Do I look old!?

“ Yn, Good morning! How are you!” Jin greeted me with English this morning. He must have been practicing with Namjoon lately.

“ I’m Fine. Seokjin.”

“Chu.” He blew a kiss my way. “ You’re not fine. You’re amazeing.”

“Amazing.” Namjoon corrected for the sidelines.

“Same thing.”

“Pronunciation is everything, Hyung.”

They stopped halfway from their dad’s office. Jin grinned. Wait, I know that smile; oh no, here comes a dad joke.

“ Hey, Namjoon-You know the reason I took the elevator instead of the stairs?”

Namjoon sighed. “ No, why?”

"I don't trust stairs. They're always up to something." Jin burst out laughing and clapped his hands.

I giggled not from the joke, but Jin has a contagious laugh.

“See, Yn has good taste.”

A slow deep groan entered the office belonging to Yoongi, lagging. “ I heard that terrible joke from the elevator.” Yoongi waved and leaned against my desk. “ Good Morning.”

“Good Morning.”

There was an awkward pause before Yoongi tapped my desk and pointed to his dad’s office from walking that way.

“Yoon-Yoongi!?”

He turned back towards me.

“ I have something for you. I packed it up on the way here.” Getting off my butt, I walked up and gave him a bottle of his favorite black ice coffee. Ew. I don’t know how he drinks it with no cream or sugar.

Yoongi smiled his gummy smile. “ Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome.” And off he goes into the office as well.

Yoongi isn’t the biggest fan of human interaction, but he put forth an endeavor towards me, whether it’s a light ‘ Hi or Hello” or the simplicity of a wave. I admire his gusto. Sidenote, He’s so adorable-I know I know I shouldn’t be gushing over my boss’s son, but his chubby cheeks and almond eyes melt my heart like butter on toast!

Ahem-I better get back to answering those emails and drink this beautiful cup of expensive mud before it gets lukewarm. Yummy, The delectable taste is a boost of serotonin! I really should get to work buuut Hobi did command me to get every last bit and technically he is my boss through some type of weird relative aspect. He is the boss.

Just in a moment of seconds, The breakfast and drink was trash. Something that good should be sinful. I feel terrible I should have saved some for the babies; they would have some, especially Jungkook.

The babies should be here any minute.

[eartht137]

FOR THE BETTER pt II

Hey curvies, glad you liked the first part of my story yay. I now bestow upon you part 2. I went a bit out of the way with this chapter, but I hope you like it. The singing part is something I did in class once on a whim, it didn't work as good as I described in the story, I still had to submit my work LOL. Enjoy my little curvies MMMMWWWahHHH!

Dark Clark Kent x (Black)!Plus Size Reader SUMMARY: Mr. Kent said friends til the end of the week right? Think again. Y/n, still getting used to having Mr. Kent as a friend, is trying to be a bit more bold. She's trying to adjust to change and even though sometimes he may seem a bit pushy, she doesn't mind, its all friendship right? He'll back off after awhile right?

You walked in class, no paper in hand and you refused to meet Clarks disappointed gaze. You weren't the only one without a paper but you were really nervous about the presentation you had up your sleeve. You just hoped it made sense. "Alright, looks like we're getting speeches today. Who wants to go first? Hmm?" He said with his hands on his hips. No one volunteered. "Am I going to have to voluntell somebody?" he gave you "the look" over his glasses. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you shakily stood as first volunteer. "Alright Miss Y/l/n, lets hear it." You could hear disappointment dripping in his voice, but you wanted to do this. You took a deep breath, and started to sing. 'Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again, because a vision softly creeping left its seed while I was sleeping, and the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains. Within the sound!!!!!!!!! Of silence.' you ended making everyone freeze and stare. "My voice is pretty much the best thing I like about me. I-I didn't think a paper could put in words what my voice could. Th-that's my speech." You said awkwardly sitting down. You'd never sang in front of anyone like that before, you hadn't even joined the choir, so singing in front of everyone was a huge step for you. Just as you'd finished processing what you'd done, the classroom erupted in cheers and applause. You were shaking at how many people liked what you'd done. You really began to shake when you saw Clark clapping for you too. "That's my wife!" One of your classmates yelled across the room smiling at you. "Alright, alright. Miss Y/l/n," Clark started. "That's Mrs. Bankston to you." the same classmate yelled out making everyone laugh. Your face heated up a bit. "Miss Y/l/n thank you for the speech. It'll suffice this time, next time I want a paper. Okay, Bankston, you're up next." "Aw Mr. Kent for reals? Like how am I supposed to follow up an act like that? Besides we're duo. Like ebony and ivory..." He serenaded holding his hand out toward you, making you giggle. "Mr. Bankston Miss Y/l/n has fantastic gpa in comparison, so seeing as your such a duo I would've expected a lot better." Clark shaded calmly, "So unless you want it to suffer any further, I suggest you cut the crap and give your speech." Clark said a bit irritated. The rest of class was filled with boring speeches from classmates who weren't even prepared to do their work. When class was dismissed, you tried easing out of the room without being noticed. "Uh, Miss Y/l/n, my office please?" He said looking over his glasses at you. You inwardly groaned and went back to his office. "So, what excuse do you have for not doing your paper?" "I honestly couldn't come up with the words to describe how it felt to use my voice. I tried I really did, but honestly, I really just couldn't find the words to describe what I like about me when-I just couldn't find the words." "Y/n, you do not give yourself enough credit. You're a very good writer and obviously an incredible singer. You can be whatever-" "Clark, do I look like a singer to you? No I don't, that's why I write, I know my words have more impact behind the scenes." You said with strength. You didn't have to be seen to be heard. "You can be whatever you want to be and you'll have my support every step of the way. That's what friends, real friends do." "Clark we are not still friends, we said til the end of the week." you shook your head at him with a smile. He smiled and stuffed his hands in his pocket. "Sorry, I'm not going away." "Figures." You laughed a bit. "What are you doing tonight? We could have a movie night." "Will Lois be there?" You asked excited. "I can ask her if you want me to." "I guess it'd be cool, but for like 30 minutes though." "Y/n no movie lasts 30 minutes. Nice try though." he laughed. "We'll be over at 8." "'Kay bye!" You said rushing out of his office off to your next class. That night at 8 on dot a knock came to your door, you answered expecting to see the couple standing there but was a bit shocked to

just see Clark. "Hey, Lois coming by later?" You asked, the last you wanted was to cause drama. "No she's following a lead on a story for the front page. She says she's sorry and she'll catch up next time." He said walking past with bags of groceries. "Oh, well let me help you." You said motioning at the bags in his hands. "I've got it, its pretty heavy." "I swear I honestly thought you'd be bringing a pizza." you chuckled. "Where's your table?" "Table?" You asked head tilted to the side. "Where you eat, the dining table?" he asked sitting the groceries on your counter. "Haha, you have a table for guests. I never have anyone over, so I just sit in front of the tv." you said pointing at your couch. He rolled his eyes at you and huffed. "Oh come on don't look at me crazy, I warned you that I was anti." "That's no excuse." he mumbled as he opened your refrigerator. "Y/n, you don't have any food in here." He fussed. "I do, its in the freezer and the pantry." you defended. "Two chimichangas, a pint of ice cream, Nutella, animal crackers, soda, and ramen. That's not food." He fussed even harder. "Okay dude chill, I'm a working grown college student. I don't eat here much anyway I eat at work, and Nutella is sustainable to my everyday existence." You said yanking the hazelnut spread away before he threw it away. He shook his head as he put the food away. "How long has it been since you've had a hot home cooked meal?" "Last week at your mom's." you shrugged. "I'm glad I brought real food to cook." he fussed on. "Clark, we could've just ordered pizza." you said starting to feel a bit bad for not adulting enough. "We could've, but I wanted to cook for you." He turned and looked at you pleading. "Please tell me you have pots and pans." "God Clark I'm hopeless not an idiot." You joked laughing obnoxiously making him roll his eyes at you. You showed him where everything was and he started cooking. You offered to help, be wanted to cook for you. You sat up the snacks an pulled up Netflix so you could choose a movie. He made his way over to you with a glass of wine. You took a sip and dramatically fell to the ground, pretending to die by poisoned wine. He got down on the floor with you and you looked at the height difference of his head by your feet and your head at the middle of his thighs and started laughing making him laugh like you'd never heard. After you both calmed down you laid there staring at the ceiling like there were stars hovering. "You really do have an amazing voice." Clark said cutting the peaceful silence. You couldn't help but smile. "Thanks....friend." You said nudging him in his thigh with your elbow. You both stayed silent until you gasped making him almost jump out of his skin. "What?" he said worried. "Can I sing at you and Lois' wedding?" You asked catching him off guard. "Oh come on, you love her, I can see it, " You said sitting up and smiling down at him. "and you both look so beautiful together." You stood tall and put your hands on your hips in "Superman" fashion. "Since I'm your friend I give her the golden stamp of, put a ring on it!" You said holding out your thumb. "Okay, I'm picking gonna pick the movie." You said marching to the couch. "That's not fair, I'm cooking I should get to pick the movie." He standing to check on his food. "We could've ordered pizza." You rebutted. "I'm your guest." he shot back with a shit eating grin. "Shit! Fine, you get to pick the movie." "Well I'll pick it after we eat." "Aww what? The tv's right there." You pointed. He looked over his glasses at you. "I don't even have a table." you argued. "You've got an argument for everything don't you?" He said chuckling. "You've got a coffee table, we'll make it work. Do you have a candle?" He said looking around before looking at you. You were there with your hands on your hips, looking at him like-'you know damn well.' He shook his head at your for the millionth time making you giggle a bit. He set the table and poured you another glass of wine. "You know this stuff gets better the more you

drink it." You said gulping the glass down and holding it out for more. "Mm-hmm." He agreed taking a sip of his own while pouring you more. You took a bite of you food, you immediately stood and clapped. "You were right, this is way better than pizza, although pizza is still good, this is amazing. "So what genre do you like most?" He asked. "Horror, I don't know why I watch it though, I always spook myself afterwards." "Okay so no horror." "No, wait please? I won't get scared tonight I promise. I mean unless you want to watch cartoons?" "We'll watch something scary." "Yaaaaay!!!!" you cheered and went to reach for the remote to your tv. "Ah, after we finish dinner and clean up." "Deal!" You said a bit excited. Once dinner was done and you'd both cleaned, even though you told him you'd do all the cleaning, he still helped. Afterwards you both sat and watched a scary movie that had you stress eating and jumping every two seconds. After that movie ended, Clark suggested another movie to help you not feel so spooked. You'd lost count of how many glasses of wine you'd had and you were feeling tipsy and tired. "Hey friend?" You hummed. "Hm?" "I fuckin hate to admit this, but I'm drunk. I'm glad we're friends. You better be glad too." you fussed at him. "I am glad," he laughed, "I really am." He said staring at you. "Good, cause you're the only person I can tolerate. Oh, and Lois....oh and that your mom, I really like your mom....oh and that cute guy from class." you giggled making Clark roll his eyes in disgust. "Y/n please." "What? He's cute, he's an idiot, that doesn't change that he's cute." You said looking at your phone. Your eyes grew big as you saw the time. "Dude its past midnight. Don't you need get home and rest for lecture?" He stared at you for a moment and you could tell he didn't want to go home, but you both knew he had to. "Yeah I'm sure I could use some rest." He said getting up to leave. You tried to get him to take the rest of the food he'd bought with him, but he refused. "Well thanks for dinner's meals and be safe. Do you need me to walk you out?" "Absolutely not, how about I see you off to bed?" "I look five to you? Don't even answer that." You sassed. He laughed and gave you a long hug, telling you how proud of you he was for using your voice and for letting him be your friend. You squirmed out of his arms pretending it was burning you. He ruffled your fro' and you gave him a playful nudge out the door. That night as you laid in bed trying to fall asleep, you kept thinking about Clark and no matter how hard you tried to shake it you couldn't help but fawn over him and how close you both had gotten so fast. 'Girl puh-lease, he's got Lois, she's beautiful and thin. He's happy with her and there's no way he'd even bat an eye at you like that. Don't even get it twisted.' you scolded yourself internally. You couldn't allow yourself to catch feelings for him that way because you knew you'd only end up with hurt feelings. You also didn't want to break up a happy relationship. 'How'd he know I needed groceries though?' you thought to yourself, 'Maybe just a hunch.' you dismissed. Soon with your mind going in 50 different directions, you were tired enough to fall asleep. "Goodnight little bird." Clark said as he watched you finally drift off to sleep. He wondered what thoughts plagued your brain that kept you awake. He hoped you'd thought of him. After making sure every inch of you apartment was safe inside and out he felt satisfied enough to go home and get a bit of rest. 'No harm in making sure she's safe' he thought as he finally took off. 'I'll always make sure she's safe.'

[darkcitiesnluv]

Hello. Can I request a Beomgyu × reader fluff? In which beomgyu and sunghoon both like reader who's a good friend of both txt and enhypen.

Thank you

Sure!  Did you know you're my first ask!  Ahhh I'm excited thank you!  I hope you like my fluff imagine!  If i disappoint you, I'm sorry!  I Hope it ain't the case!  Here we go! 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was the first day of school for L / n Y / n.  Your mother dropped you off to school before going to her own job. You breath in the air with a smile.  "I'm finally going to see my friends, it's been so long i haven't seen Sunghoon ..." You thought inside your head as you made your way to your classroom.  Sunghoon is one of your closest friends.  During the summer break he went in vacations with his family and the only way for Sunghoon and you to interact with each other was from the phones. 

"Y/n!  Here!  I saved you a seat! "A long hair boy yelled from the very back of the classroom. You shook your head and laughed quietly. 'How does this kid know we have classes together?'  you thought.

"Beomgyu! How did you know we- "

" shhhhh baby girl, you know I have eyes and ears everywhere" Beomgyu put a finger against your lips to shush you showing you his silly smirk. He does this to you a lot.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed onto his school dress shirt. "You need to stop calling me that or else the others are going to think we're a couple .." You lightly wine letting him go. 

Beomgyu chuckled.  "Aren't we one though? .."

You lightly punch him in the arm as you two sat on the desks that are right beside each other. " Your jokes aren't funny..." You said.

Suddenly, almost the whole class started looking towards the window inside their room, watching how a black hair, tall, handsome boy walked through the halliway. 

"oh my..is that the famous figure skater? "

" oh my god he is hooot "

Everything looked in slow motion like in the kdramas you've watched. The boy walking gracefully and perfectly with each step. His finger slowly moving a hair away from his attractive forehead. His gaze was hard and seductive as he showed his elegant smirk.

" look at that dude he thinks he is handsome "

" yeah he thinks he can get all the ladies...."

"you brooooo he has some nice canines, who's his dentist...."

" If he is a vampire l'll let him drink my blood, kill me, anything  and l'll just say "thank you i appreciated" "

You couldn't see him but Beomgyu could. You knew by the way he hit his desk and clenched his fist tight until his knuckles turned white. You worried and grabbed his hands with your tiny ones.

" Gyu are you ok? What's wrong? Who is him?..." You asked him. Your attention focusing on him. Beomgyu glared deathly at something and mumbled. " He is coming to our classroom."

You looked to see who it was and you were shock. The boy walked inside with a bright smile. " Hello, I'm Park Sunghoon, new student, take well care of me" he bowed lightly with a kindly and innocent smile.

" Of course baby~" some girl whispered as she was drooling saliva for the new student. "Nina shut up!" Her friend said giving her a dirty weird look.

Your opened mouth turned into a happy smile.

' Sunghoon is back!' you thought as you smiled at his way. Sunghoon notice you and waved a hand at you, making some students look at you but you didn't care what they think.

°°°

" Hooooon~!" You yelled as you ran towards him. Sunghoon suddenly grabbed you and twirl you around.

"Oooo look at the lovebirds~" said Hueningkai teasing them. " Why don't you two just confess each other's love huh?" Jungwon also teased receiving high-fives from his two older friends, Heeseung and Jay.

"Where's that loser of Beomgyu?" Taehyun asked as he looked between the boys in front of him. " In the back....." Soobin said as they looked behind them. 

Beomgyu was behind them watching everything. So randomly he sucked in air, knee down to get a big rock from the ground and threw the rock somewhere in the air out of anger. Who knows where the rock went flying to......... after a few seconds he heard broken glass shader.

" ....Who the fuck did this....." Beomgyu heard the scream of an old lady from faaaar a way the school's playground.

Beomgyu turn away from that direction with a "oh shit what have I've done" look on his face. However once he turned to the opposite direction he still saw you.....arms wrapped around Sunghoon's neck, legs wrapped around his stomach, and still being twirl around like a daisy in the air by a smiling Sunghoon. " I really really missed you a lot!" You said.

Beomgyu eyes widen big, bigger than they already are. He immediately ran towards you two not caring of his friends are watching him.  His long dark brown hair swaying softly with the air. " No no no no no! What are two doing!" He separated Sunghoon and you from each other.

" Wow- real shit is going to happen...." Yeonjun said throwing the piece sign with his fingers. " I agreed indeed mai brotha..." Jake comment next.

" What? I couldn't see him in the summer break and I really missed him!" you said as you held Sunghoon's hands. Beomgyu immediately slapped your and Sunghoon's hands making y'all let go immediately.

Sunghoon had enough of it and grabbed Beomgyu's dress shirt. " What's your problem!" He said loud and fiercely glaring at him. Everyone step back from them two.

" If y'all gonna fight make it bloody and violently..." Heeseung said sounding serious about his words.

" Yeah make it violently, like in the games you know?....hey Jake and Heeseung....who y'all bet? I bet for Beomgyu, y'all know he is crazyyyy" Riki said covering his mouth with a hand and shaking his other hand in front of him.

" Yeah but try not to get hurt badly alright?" Jay said as he fixed his Gucci cap.

" This is stupid, I should go eat my mint choco ice cream, Y/nnie~ meet me in the restaurant, you know which one..." Sunoo said about to leave when he suddenly notice how quickly Beomgyu's and Sunghoon's heads turned towards him with a glare.

" I'm scared......" Sunoo said leaving the school's ground.

Beomgyu turned and glare back at Sunghoon as he held onto his wrist and forced him to let him go. Beomgyu chuckled and look at you. " The problem is that you two are lying to my face...to our faces!...."

" See?.....i was right...." Jungwon shook his head unbelievably.

" What are talking about Beom? What lie?" You said crossing your arms over your chest.

" You two are dating." Beomgyu said straightforward with a poker cold face.

" And if we were, why would it affect you?.." Sunghoon took a step forward towards Beomgyu. You widen your eyes as you heard the words coming from his mouth.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOO....." Your male friends said as they were shook by Sunghoon's comment as well.

Beomgyu looked away from you two and smirked bitterly. " No it wouldn't.....why would it? Hahaha ahhh you two could actually make an adorable couple" he said with a bright face. He patted Sunghoon's shoulders and left without looking at you.

" Let's go homies! Let's get some beer!" Beomgyu threw a fist up in the air. " Aren't half of us under age?" Jungwon asked. " You and Riki Niki are getting a glass of milk...." Jay said.

" Noooo i want beer too! " Niki wined.

" NOOOOO NIKI SAN!" Jake yelled making everyone covered their ears.

You suddenly felt sad....really sad. Beomgyu didn't even spare you a glare. But.....why did you felt sad? Shouldn't you just ignore it? Think of it as Beomgyu being exaggerated silly with you.... but that's hard to think it like that when he looked so jealous of Sunghoon being with you?....what could this mean?

Sunghoon looked at your sad appearance and walked towards you to give you a warm hug. " Oh come on Y/n.....don't be sad.....maybe he is a little jealous because you are hanging out your other best friend than hanging out without him....." He grinned, his cute  dimples appearing unwillingly.

You smiled and lean your head against his chest. However you still felt sad and hurt by Beomgyu.

°°°

" Beomgyu! Come to my house! Mom is going to make a delicious dinner for us!" You called on your phone as you laid on your bed looking at the white ceiling.

"...........is Sunghoon coming too?" Beomgyu said slowly taking his time in speaking.

Oh my god why is he soo cute! You thought.

" No he won't Gyu, come back to me and we'll have fun!" You said with positivity.

" Ok! I'll be there in five minutes!" He ended the call.

You chuckled to yourself and hugged a pillow, still looking at the ceiling.

Why did he got jealous?...I don't think that was normal  jealousy coming from a close friend......it was more like that type of jealousy you feel towards a crush.....That behavior of his was strange today....

You sat up as you heard Beomgyu yelled.." Hello mom!" To your mother at the kitchen. You ran out of your room. " Hey bestie~~!" You said in English as you winked at him.

" Hey best friend" he responded back in english.

" Food will be ready in 30 minutes!" Your mother said.

°°°

"Yes! Yes yes!!!!!" Beomgyu said as he beat you in the game. You took off your headphones and pouted. " As always you win!" You said slightly punching his arm. Beomgyu looked at you with an evil smile. " and the loser gets to suffer! " He said suddenly jumping on top of you. He started to tickle you everywhere. You laughed out loud and struggle to stop him but he was too strong. Somehow you gain more power than him and started to tickle him as well. You got on top of him and straddle his stomach as you reach to ruin his hair, tickle his armpits and sides.

" You might be a winner in games but you're weak when it come to this game!" You made fun of him.

Beomgyu kept laughing and wiggling around but soon stopped as he saw the weird position you two were. You stopped as well as you saw him no longer laughing.

" Y/n you're dirty! How dare you try to take advantage of me! Just because you see me tiny and innocent!" He tease you out loud gazing at your body and legs.

You widen your eyes and got off of him. " Beomgyu! You're the nasty one! You started this! " You hit him again. Both of you laughing together.

As y'all's laughter started to slow down you two stare at each other. Eyes studying each other's faces.

You always admitted to yourself from the very beginning how attractive Beomgyu was. Not only was he cute looking but his personality was gold. You loved him by the way he is with you and with everyone.

Have you developed a crush on him?....yes a tiny one two years ago. You started realizing how much you liked him a lot when you two went to a party together. You saw some girls surrounding him and talking and flirting with him. Beomgyu, as the social butterfly he is didn't mind having them around him. However you remember how angry you felt when Beomgyu was dancing with a girl and laughing with her instead dancing and laughing with you.

As for Beomgyu....he always liked you since the very first day you two met. In the first year of middle school. He always thought of you as someone sooo pretty and smart. He still does though but now he thinks you're hot. Anyway he always liked you. Of course like any other human being he had his small crushes from there to there but the one he really liked and care the most was you. He never told you because he was scared to ruin the great friendship between you two, but he also like it with you two staying as friends.

His feelings towards you became stronger in highschool. You having so much friends and specially lots of guys friends...not just your typical normal looking guy friends...but very attractive guy friends like: Soobin, Yeonjun, Taehyun, Hueningkai, Heeseung,Jay,Jake, Jungwon,Sunoo, Niki, ugly Sunghoon, and of course he'll include himself in the list.

To many eh?.....he was afraid any of them could still you away, specially that Sunghoon since you're the most closest with him as well. Beomgyu knew Sunghoon liked you too and that he was trying to win you over, so he wanted to start making a move ...but he was too afraid of rejection from you.

What should he do?

What should you do?

" Beomgyu......you looked so jealous at school earlier....with Sunghoon.....what was that behavior.....I was shock...." You chuckled lightly still looking deep into his dark eyes.

Beomgyu didn't look away, his eyes looking deep at yours. " Jealousy?....what are you talking about?...well actually it was jealousy! Because you were hanging out with him instead of me!" He wined holding one of your tiny hands and started waving your arms to the sides.

" But you know he is one of my closest friends too! It's being a long time I haven't seen him, so i really missed him a lot...look Gyu you're so important to me that I even decided to hang out with you tonight instead of with Sunghoon......." You said truthfully.

Beomgyu smiled at you as he caressed one of your cheek with his hand. " The favoritism...i see " he winked at you making your heart beat. "Beomgyu no-haha" you chuckled quietly and shyly.

" Food is ready!" Your mom yelled.

You two were two focus on each other that you two didn't heard you mother yelled. Beomgyu kept staring at your lips intensely and that made you feel a little nervous.

" Y/n.....can i kiss you?" He asked, raising his eyebrows and his eyes now looking at yours. His lovely gaze was making you wanting to look away from him but you couldn't. His comment made your heart beat faster and your breathing quickened.

" Uhhh...no Gyu that's weird! We're friends we can't do that" you laughed once again hitting him lightly in the arm.

" But it's for practice, come on i really wanna try kissing....come here" he said scooting closer to you and pulling your neck towards him but you try to scoot back away from him while still laughing nervously.

" No! Beom, stop move!"

" Don't you wanna try it, it's your chance! Come here baby girl" he scooted more closer.

" Well I- i mean sure but like not right now, like maybe tomorrow, it's just that-" Beomgyu chuckled as he leaned in to softly peck your lips slowly. His hand resting on your cheek. Everything happen so fast but for you felt it slow. He pulled away with a satisfying smile. "Gyu....." You said eyes shocking looking at him.

" It was great right? Just wait until we start making out with tongue and everything, it'll be greater!" He tease you making you blush hard.

He kissed me........ Beomgyu kissed me......was it just for fun?....or does he like me the way i like him..... You could no longer control you're feelings inside and watching Beomgyu smile and laughing at you made you angry. Does he think this is a joke?

" Choi Beomgyu! You can't just simply kiss anyone without them agreeing too! Also you can't just simply kiss the person that likes you without making sure they're feeling ready to kiss the person they like! How can you do this to me Choi Beomgyu! I will sue you!" You wined loudly. Beomgyu was shook at the things you said.

" Y-y-you like me!?..........then why the fuck are complaining about me kissing you!" Beomgyu suddenly stood up and you copy him. " Aren't you surprised?" You asked confused.

"Yes i am! Very much surprised! But you know what?.... there's something that will surprise YOU the most...maybe.....I like you too!!!" He said closing his eyes, he protected his head with his arms and looked away from you as if afraid you might smack his face off.

After a while feeling nothing he slowly turn to look at you. You stand there with a smile. " Are you really.....telling me....the truth?....are you really!" You said as you pulled his head down to look at him while jumping in tiny.

He nodded repeatedly. " Yes ever since middle school.....but I've never told you anything because I didn't want to ruin our beautiful friendship......and everytime those close guys friends of yours were around you I felt jealous...... specially towards Sunghoon........" He confess everything clearly.

You smiled and jumped on him, wrapping arms around his neck and your legs around his torso.

" Wow....." He mumbled in shock of your sudden actions.

"I feel so happy!" You said burying your face on his neck. Beomgyu stood there, arms wrapped around your back. " I also feel really happy Y/n! I feel like screaming how happy I am!" He said now resting his head against your head with his eyes shut.

" Kids, I've been waiting for you guys at the dining table and you two are just....... hugging?" Your mother stoped talking as soon as she enter your room.

Your mom furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, put a hand on her hip and her other hand on the door knob.

" What's this?......Y/n? Beomgyu?......... hellooooo I'm talking to y'all?........are y'all serious!?" She said as she walked towards them and try to wake them up from their moment.

" Oh my god mom! I'm so sorry you had to see this!" You said letting go of him.

" Mom im sorry too!" Beomgyu bow down repeatedly even getting down onto his knees but you stopped him from doing so.

Your mother rolled her eyes as she laughed quietly.

" Sorry for what? that you two are dating? Come on! Your dad and I ship you two! Now kids come down to dinner please...." She said annoyed. " I didn't waist two hours of my time for y'all not to eat my food?...no it's not going to happen..."

"... But we're not-..."

" Shhhhh let's go!" Your mom interrupted. Leaving the room.

Beomgyu and you looked at each other and quietly cracked a smile. " Well.......are we dating now...." Beomgyu gives you a mischievous look. " Well......if we like each other and a lot ......we should give it try..." you agreed showing your mischievous look as well.

" We'll be a couple and friends at the same time....good?" He asked holding both of your hands and leaned down to touch his forehead against yours. You nodded and reach to peck his pretty lips.

" Kids! Come down now!!" Your mother yelled.

The two of flinched and ran from your room holding hands.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Thank you for reading 💖

[picwew]

SQUAD UP! It’s time for Yuna and his crew of miscreant demons!

(Picrews are here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here!)

The characters are, top to bottom, left to right--

Nakajima, Yuna: A human with unusually high magical potential. His specialty is the binding of demons into servitude, which he utilizes to stop particularly troublesome demons from threatening human populations across the globe. Most of the demons under his care were seduced by him, as he has quite a knack for making men want him. As such, several of his servants are vying for his favor, but, in his own words, “I don’t play favorites~”

Obviously, Yuna is a bit of a flirt. His tastes extend well beyond demons, into just about any non-human he can get his hands on. He has a ravenous appetite for handsome men, but no plans to settle down any time soon. It isn’t that romance doesn’t appeal to him, more that he’s still young and a little too free-spirited for anything permanent. The way he dotes on his servants, though, you’d certainly think he was in love with them, Nihil in particular.

Mourning Dove: Affectionately referred to by his coworkers as “Dovey”, this little fellow was the first of Yuna’s servants, and is therefore his most staunch defender. The details of his past are hazy, even in his own mind, but he was born into the slave trade, nameless, nothing, the psychological toll of which would not become apparent until his eventual escape. He was full of hatred for the humans who had callously treated him as property, and claimed many lives before Yuna was able to soothe his aching heart. “You’re pretty as a mourning dove,” Yuna told him. From that moment on, he decided that this would be his name.

Dovey is, above all, an empath. Much of his time recovering from a life of slavery was spent learning to feel again. Once he got the hang of it, however, he found that he felt a little too much, so much so that he’s become somewhat of a crybaby. When others are in pain, he is often the one to comfort them. His sweet disposition and cute appearance have earned him his coworkers’ love, although they still get a bit miffed with him whenever he tries to hog Yuna’s attention.

Dr. Callaway: An interesting case, and a tough nut to crack. Only Yuna knows his full name; no one knows his story. All he’s shared is that he was fingered for human experimentation, and that, no, he has neither learned his lesson nor wishes to. Still, he behaves himself well enough, perhaps because he is entirely obsessed with Yuna in the most unhealthy way. While most of his coworkers consider one another family, Dr. Callaway is detached and often mocking of their sentimentality.

As expected, Dr. Callaway is a terrible sadist. He takes great pleasure in hurting others in any way he can. Nowadays, this is limited almost entirely to insults and threats, but he has been known to get physical with others when Yuna isn’t looking. It doesn’t help that nothing seems to bother him in return. You could beat the man senseless, and he’d come out of it grinning like a jackal.

Corvo: This one was a misunderstanding--or, rather, a case of cultures clashing in a very gruesome manner. Corvo is a hybrid of demon and crowkin. Beastkin are not true demons, but are often lumped in with them, so mixed-race families are not uncommon. Unfortunately, this can lead to some problematic offspring, particularly when one or both of the parents are detached from human society. Corvo, like many crowkin, was taught that food is food, and that human meat is the most delicious of all. He bore no ill will toward humans, but his view of them as, essentially, cattle culminated in a visit from Yuna.

Following his binding, Corvo began the lengthy process of finding something he liked more than human flesh. This, as it turned out, was sweets--all sweets, from pastries, to ice cream, to candy. He had never had sweets before, and everyone agreed that they suited his bubbly, affectionate personality more than human flesh anyway. He is certainly the gentlest of all of Yuna’s servants, dedicated to his family and to protecting those in need. He’s especially fond of cats.

Erebus: Known by those who worship him as the Master of Crows, Erebus is an ill-understood being. He is ancient, but has had little to do with his own kind since time out of mind. Instead, he appears to have become so entwined with his worshipers that he can no longer live without their faith to sustain him. During the Northern Crusades, a great many of them were persecuted for their faith, and Erebus fell into a centuries-long slumber. Only when his followers began to grow in number again did he wake--and command those loyal to him to seek vengeance for their fallen brethren. Naturally, Yuna had a thing or two to say about that.

Erebus is highly asocial, but does not dislike his coworkers. It would be a stretch to say he views them as family; even so, he gets along well with them on the rare occasion Yuna can talk him out of his comfortable pocket of darkness. As the oldest of his colleagues, he is respected and even admired, but he cares little for the love of his own kind. He desires mortal love, which he receives through his worshipers. Due to their number still being relatively low, you’ll rarely catch him awake. Only Yuna seems able to rouse him, and only because Yuna is his “most cherished one”.

Mage: A troublemaker with a bark worse than his bite--but he can and will bite, so mind your fingers. Like Dr. Callaway, his true name is known only to Yuna. His coworkers know him as Mage, taken from Magenta, the name of the rather nasty chemical he produces to draw in his prey. He doesn’t harm them, but he has seduced many a married man away from his wife. Causing strife among couples is what he does best. As an incubus, he finds the taste of a married man’s energy too sweet to resist. So, of course, when he found himself seduced by Yuna, he was completely baffled--and absolutely obsessed. He still toys with married men now and then, when he gets the chance, but spends most of his time trying to talk Yuna back into bed.

Though rare, Mage can be persuaded to bust heads, and does so with the best of ‘em. He’s highly territorial, meaning that although he rather likes his colleagues, he often tangles up with them over Yuna’s affection. He is particularly hostile toward Nihil, who rather delights in teasing Mage with his closeness to their master. Outside of his romantic conflicts with his housemates, he tends to be rather lackadaisical, spending much of his free time lounging on every comfortable surface available. People find his presence enjoyable due to his easygoing disposition and passion for mischief.

Nihil: Of all the demons under Yuna’s employ, Nihil is the one who has come closest to winning his heart. Theirs is a strangely intimate relationship, one which Yuna insists is platonic--and yet, Nihil is at his side always, his obedient shadow. Of course, they weren’t always so close. Nihil is an inherently violent, cruel man whose sole purpose in life is to cause as much pain and grief as he possibly can. He is absolutely, positively insane, for no other reason than this is how he believes a demon should be. This is his aesthetic, and a demon’s aesthetic is absolute. He minds his P’s and Q’s now that he’s bound to Yuna, but never lets his “family” forget what he is, Yuna least of all.

Nihil loves no being, except, by his own admission, Yuna. He teases his master constantly, always pushing his limits, always pushing his buttons. “I am your loyal dog,” is a favorite line of his, spoken, with a pointed smile, whenever Yuna asks something of him. For some reason, it never fails to fluster Yuna, which allows Nihil to worm himself further into his darling’s heart. Unlike his colleagues, he is not afraid to get physical with Yuna, and many of their more heated arguments have ended in the bedroom. Whether Nihil actually enjoys servitude remains to be seen, but for Yuna, he would pull the moon from the sky.

Pox: The general consensus on Pox is “unfriendly, but not unbearable”. A life of self-isolation has made him difficult to approach, even more difficult to befriend, especially given that everyone he’s ever loved, he has killed. He is a demon of sickness, of plague and of rot, of suffering so old as to be carved into the bones of the earth. When he was young, he could not control the disease that spread from him. Though his mortal mother tried desperately to guide him, eventually, she was overcome, and Pox left the village he had once called home, now populated only by the dead and dying. He learned then that he could not live among his mother’s people, but he knew nothing of his father’s. Rather than seek them out and put them at risk as well, he exiled himself to the outskirts of human society, interacting with it only when necessary. With time, he came to understand his power, and was able to control it--but his peaceful life came to an end when one of the few humans he had allowed himself to love was killed in a botched robbery. Pox designated himself judge, jury, and executioner, and it wasn’t long before Yuna showed up on his doorstep.

Pox hides his self-loathing under a cold, hard outer shell. His mask is flawless, perfected through a lifetime of guilt, and he allows no one near enough to break it. His coworkers believe that they are despised by him, but in truth, he loves each of them with every inch of himself. Saying so is difficult, though, and such an admission would only encourage them to endanger themselves. He may be in complete control of his magic most days, but there are times even now when he catches himself slipping. He is desperate to protect Yuna and the strange family they have all built together, so much so that he would rather suffer in silence than risk their lives asking for help.

Seta Sericum: The peculiarity of his name has led to his coworkers calling him Silky, a moniker which he has accepted only begrudgingly. Silky is a Nephalem, the product of a love between angel and demon. Typically, his fathers’ love for one another would have ended in tragedy, but the two stayed together even after their angelic half was cast from divinity. Silky was raised in a happy home, albeit a mobile one; his fathers couldn’t risk staying in one place for too long, lest the Church track them down. Ultimately, it was the Church, their greatest fear, that was their end. They were cut down while protecting Silky, who was forced to flee in the vain hope that his absence might somehow save his fathers. The Church searched for him, but he had hidden himself well. Now an orphan, he swore vengeance on his parents’ murderers--and he got it too, once he was old enough to control his immense magical power. He despises the Church, but killed only those among its ranks who had directly harmed him. Regardless, Yuna came for him, and he submitted to servitude as recompense.

Silky’s demonic father was a real fop of a man, and his son is no different now that he’s had a chance to adjust to a normal life. He insists that everyone pull their own weight, that everything be in its place at all times, and has a fondness for indulgences such as expensive wine and imported chocolates. Without these little luxuries, he would surely have gone mad, for both his mischievous master and his trouble-making housemates frustrate him to no end. He has tried, with mixed success, to serve as a role model for them, but, oh, they are all such children. Dovey is far too naive, Dr. Callaway is far too sadistic, Corvo is far too oblivious, Mage is far too flirtatious, Nihil is far too violent, Pox is far too cold, and Vincent is far too reclusive. Erebus, at least, is well-behaved, though Silky thinks he could stand to mingle more with the group.

Vincent Blythe: On the forefront of medical progress during the Victorian Era, Dr. Vincent Blythe has become little more than a shell of his former self. When his prostitute mother was murdered by one of her stags, something snapped in him. He began targeting, torturing, and finally killing any man who frequented brothels or whom he had seen with street-walkers, believing himself to be the protector of his mother’s people. It was only then when he realized he was something more than human. His father, it turned out, had been a demon who had fallen terribly in love with his mother, but whose feelings had been spurned by her. After receiving a near-fatal wound in a skirmish with a prominent vampire hunter of the day, Vincent tucked himself away in a dark corner of London to heal. He slept for over a century, and when he woke, attempted to pick up where he’d left off. Confused, his trauma still fresh in his mind, he killed all who drew near. Phone calls were made, flights were booked, and Yuna arrived on scene to bring him back to his senses.

Vincent is terribly withdrawn. On the one hand, he is distrustful of all humans, and men in particular frighten him. On the other hand, he has had little to no experience with his own kind, and so struggles to fit in among them. He finds himself at an impasse, unable to shake the trauma of his mother’s murder, and equally unable to bond with his father’s kin. Because of this, he is prone to bouts of violent madness when he feels that he is being threatened, or when he wakes from particularly vivid nightmares, in which he witnesses his mother’s murder and can do nothing to stop it. Dr. Callaway has oft remarked that Vincent is a genius, a true medical prodigy, and that it is too bad he’s so “broken”.

[chidoroki]

TPN - “Dreams Come True”

What better way to cheer up the TPN fandom after the second season’s final episode than with the special exhibition chapter finally being fully translated. I caught glimpses of a few pages here and there over the past couple months but seeing all the children live happily together in the human world in their own little village that they made close to Emma and Alex warms my heart. Of course I would’ve loved if we got to see more of the GP Resistance (because the anime denied us of them) but following the GF kids around the world as they experience their dreams is fair enough. We started the series alongside them so might as well finish strong with them too. I really loved seeing everyone grow up but no matter how old they get or how much time passes, I’ll probably never get used to seeing Emma without her iconic “63194.” It’s a bittersweet feeling for me, but her smiles bring me so much joy and I’m beyond happy that she accepted everyone into her life as they accepted her without her memories.

I haven’t a clue on how much time passed since everyone found Emma in ch181 to now, but seeing her call out everyone’s names is a little detail that I love so much considering she had no idea who anyone was at first. Trying to remember 60+ names doesn’t seem like an easy task to me. No doubt I was just as shocked as our girl upon learning these mere children bought a goddamn plane! We learn in a couple pages that it’s because of Norman’s company that they can afford it, but still, he’s like 15 or 16 now? He’s still a child! And I’m impressed! Not only at him, but that Oliver and Violet became pilots as well! It’s especially cute when you remember that Lucas gave Oliver a little toy plane during their time at Goldy Pond.

Speaking of GP, is it just me or does Emma’s current outfit resemble her GP one just a little bit? Sure we have no idea what color scheme this one has but come on, the short jacket, the dark shirt and jeans.. just imagine it! Jemima, Yvette, Alicia and Mark remade Gillian’s original GP outfit sometime before the Grace Field Raid arc (ch137 extra page) so I don’t doubt they could’ve done the same for Emma. Of course that’s just me being completely hopeful and missing the Goldy Pond arc to death but yeah! I’m also so happy to see Chris up and moving again! Seeing him wake up briefly in ch181 was nice but this is so much better. I imagine he and Emma have a lot to catch up on in terms of stories, with him being unconscious since ch105 and Emma not remembering anything.

But here we go, the original 15 escapees plus Norman, Phil, Sherry, I believe I saw Carol somewhere and a couple other random kiddos ready to see the entire world. They get to accomplish so much.. and in a single day too I believe? At least that’s what Phil and Alicia say a bit later about everyone’s wishes, but aahh what a lucky bunch. Hell, I’ll say we’re lucky readers too to be able to see such a great story. Can’t thank Shirai and Demizu enough y’all. I wish we got to see more of Alex though. He’s such a kind soul but I’m sure he’ll be just fine staying behind with everyone else.

This entire page where we learn about Norman as a CEO is gold. I still can’t believe this child successfully built up an entire multipurpose company not only to help their search for Emma but also because he didn’t want to live off the Ratri clan. I wish I knew about this last week when writing out Norman’s birthday post because hell yeah this deserves some praise! AND he managed to graduate school as well during all that! Well, by skipping grades which totally makes sense. I mean, if he managed to pass all the Grace Field and Lambda tests effortlessly I’m sure normal human world school was a piece of cake for him. Holy shit dude, keep on impressing me why don’t ya. Not only him but Nigel and Sonya too! I’m not surprised that Vincent helped out but I’m glad those two got a tiny moment to shine as well! Ray is another obvious choice when it comes to helping Norman, as they’re best friends and he’s always been good with machines.. but boy, I can’t take you seriously when you’re just sitting there unamused and eating chips! Hahah I love him so much! And the fact he replies to Norman’s idea with just a simple “kay” is an eternal mood.

Okay boys aside, can we talk about our fabulous girls now? Because oh my god, they’re so darn beautiful! They’re more fashionable than I’ll ever be and it’s so cute how they drag Emma along to take advantage of the 3-for-1 deal. But our girl pulls off that sporty look so well! (r.i.p. goldy pond outfit ver2.0). I’m not at all surprised that Nat wanted to go see the opera. That's perfect for him and I’d like to think the anime did something similar with that one shot we see of him in the human world. We don’t see him in a theater like this but to me it looks like he’s on the streets of Broadway? At least that’s the vibe I get from it. I’m sure there was something music related on one of those signs.

I can’t get over how adorable all the children look and how happy they are fulfilling their wishes, even if some of them aren’t as extravagant as others. Like eating a fluffy pancake and a ton of ice cream? We can do that whenever we want. But for these kids, it means everything and they absolutely deserve to experience such simple joys like that after all the harsh nonsense they’ve been through. I also love how Ray continues to be such a great older brother by still looking out for them too. The fact he remains completely unfazed by the haunted house is perfect. This boy has been haunted by his own nightmares and demons his entire life, there’s no way a couple of lousy jump scares are gonna spook him. Though I do find it funny that Alicia and Rossi still manage to get scared while Yvette is having the time of her life. I can’t help but laugh at Thoma’s “Shirai face” as well.

I find it interesting that out of all the different kinds of exhibits they could’ve shown us while Rossi visits a museum, they give us dinosaurs.. like that seems so silly to me. Y’all have seen several demons in your young lives already and yet dinosaurs manage to amaze you too? God these kids are precious. And then our boy Phil finally gets to see and ride a train! Just look how happy he is! The poor kid can’t even sit still he’s so darn excited and I can’t help but smile with him! Thankfully the anime showed us this too.

We eventually get to Ray’s wish and guys.. oh my fucking god. Tell me that this is not the absolute best and prettiest smile we get to see from him!! It honestly leaves me speechless okay? Ray never imagined he would ever get to see the outside world, let alone live past the age of 12, and yet here he is, seeing such a beautiful sight such as this, right in front of him instead of from inside a book. You can’t believe how happy and proud of him I am right now. Did you see how ecstatic I was when the anime kept Isabella alive? Multiply that feeling by ten and there ya go. That’s my level of happiness upon seeing my favorite boy smile like THAT! AAHHH!! That panel is gonna live rent free in my head until the end of time. I can’t get over how damn perfect it is. His smile is so pure and how he looks like he’s in complete awe is beautiful. He’s about to burst into tears and I swear I might do the same because I’m making myself emotional over this fantastic boy. Someone hold me.

No seriously, hold me because we’re about to get into some angst as we move onto to Emma’s wish. We all know that ever since 2039 her one dream was to ride a giraffe once they got outside, so here we are, about ten years later and the animals in question are within reach. Our girl should be totally excited, right? Ha, not quite.

That wish was something the old Emma wanted, but since demon god had to be such a bastard, this Emma doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to even feel. She hasn’t experienced the same hardships as her family. She hasn’t gone through hell and back while holding onto that one wish that would make all the suffering worth it. The amount of joy everyone else felt upon living out their dreams, she wonders if she would be able to feel it too.

They brought her here to make her happy, but is this truly want she wants as well? This is old Emma’s wish after all. What about her and what she wants? Could this wish make her just as happy as her old self? She knows her family is only trying to help, but seeing her doubt herself does a number on my heart. Even without her memories, she’s still the same Emma deep down, as she doesn’t want to disappoint her family. She spends so much time worrying about living up to her family’s expectations, to try and be that Emma they all love so dearly.

Little does she know that she acts the exact same as usual, almost as if nothing has changed when she finally expresses how much she wants to ride a giraffe. And that’s great considering when they first arrived at the giraffes, no on had even mentioned riding them. She came across that feeling all on her own and everyone else can’t help but laugh and feel relieved. Her mind may have forgotten but her heart remembers everything. There is no “old Emma” and “new Emma” to her family, just “Emma” and words can’t express how wholesome that is because they love her regardless. All that matters to them is Emma’s happiness because if anyone deserves to feel and experience that, it’s her.

I just made myself tear up, damn it. I started this series with season one okay? I heard about this precious girl’s dream within the first minute of the first episode and here I am, a little bit over two years later, finally reading about it coming true and seeing that bright as hell smile on her face. Do you know how amazing it is to come full circle like that? My heart feels so full right now. I’m beyond proud of her and love her to death. Say what you want but I believe this to be the true manga ending in my eyes.

(damn this series for always getting me emotional)