#there’s so much going on both in my personal life as well as in the world in general and THIS is what finally makes me cry? get it together

[bedsyandco]

★ . ᕀ 𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒 ᕀ . ★

𝓹airing , gf!reader x luke hughes

in which taking naps on your boyfriend is your favourite pastime. and he enjoys nothing more than having his girl in his arms.

꒰ 𝓷ote , it's time I get myself a pookie bf cause writing these are making me feel lonier and lonier . . . ꒱

luke loves sleeping. it’s one of the many joys in his life. and it’s no secret either. luke knows his teammates are well aware that when he declines their offers to go out, he goes home and knocks right out. and as much as he brushes their teasing off by saying he’s just a kid and he’s still growing, luke is pretty sure no matter how old he gets he’ll always be down for an afternoon nap.

luke only knew one other person who loved sleeping as much as him… and that was you. it’s become an integral piece of your routine. it’s almost a daily occurrence for jack to find you and luke passed out together for an hour or two.

but if there was one thing luke loved more than sleeping…it was watching you sleep. not in a creepy way, he swears. there was just something so peaceful about watching your content expression, the way your whole face would soften, the steady beat of your heart, your soft puffs of breaths against his skin. watching you sleep put him in a state of grace that even his own slumber couldn’t.

so what if he sacrificed his own two hour naps just to admire you in your sleep? it recharged him all the same and no one would ever know.

“is she asleep?” jack whispers when he enters the apartment and sees his brother on the couch. you laying completely on top of him.

“of course she is,” jack says when luke nods in response.

luke grins at the horrified expression on jack’s face when you let out a particularly loud snore. he gently runs his hand through your hair, dropping a kiss on your head.

“fuck!” jack yells suddenly and luke turns his head seeing his brother crouched over, clutching his toe.

“shut up. I just told you she was sleeping,” luke whisper-yells and jack glares at him letting out an annoyed sigh. luke glances down at you, making sure his brother’s antics didn’t wake you up.

“I stubbed my toe. It fucking hurts. but I’m okay, thanks for asking,” Jack says and Luke rolls his eyes at his brother’s dramatics

“If you wake her up you’re gonna be very not okay when I’m done with you,” luke grumbles and stills when you shift, hand clutching his shirt tightly

but he quickly forgets about the threat uttered to his brother. a warm feeling spreading through his chest when your eyes flutter open, blinking slowly up at him.

“hey baby. did you sleep well?” luke asks, gently brushing wild strands of hair out of your face.

“mhm…” you mumble, snuggling back into his chest, exposing the side of your face you were laying on and luke smiles at the indented mark on your face

“I can tell,” luke says amused, pressing a kiss to the top of your head when you hide your face in his chest from embarrassment.

luke squeezes you tight, his eyes fluttering close with a content look on his face. jack contemplates waking both of you when he sees your drift off again, knowing the two of you were on dinner duty tonight, but the peaceful look on his little brothers face makes him hesitate.

jack decided to leave the two of you be, but for no other reason other than the fact that he doesn’t want to eat luke’s burnt rice again. or so he tells himself.

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 04.10 - Neuvillette ~

Dom!reader x sub!Neuvillette - reader is gender neutral

Warning: boss (neuvi) /assistant (us) relationship, neuvi & reader are both virgins~, vent fingering, bathtub, heat (implied), dragon anatomy, rubbing his dicks together, mind break, sub space, breaking into his house (lol)

~ Word count: 6.8k ~

Nini!rant: special thanks to @sh1-n0bu for explaining her reptile kink to me <3

Kinktober list 2024

It was sunny on that day, no clouds were in sight, only the clear blue sky could be seen. The bustling sounds of the people are echoing from every corner, whispers akin to the buzzing of bees reached your ears. “Did you hear…” one of the shopkeepers murmured, “our archon, she…” another person commented. As always, people seemed to love gossip or rumors.

You couldn’t blame them, their curiosity was justified. Normally you would have wanted to eavesdrop a little more, but not this time, because you had other things to worry about. Today you were going to get a different position at work, all you hoped for was that it wouldn’t be worse than the previous one. You took the elevator upstairs, then made your way to your workplace, where you’ll have to deal with nasty higher-ups again.

If it were for you, you’d fire them all, every single one of them couldn’t do anything yet bosses their subordinates around like they are worth less than dirt. Not to mention all those unreasonable rules, who in their right mind would remember them all? After a short walk, you reached the Palais Mermonia. Hectic footsteps emerged from the building, the source was without fail beneath that unnecessarily huge door. With a final sigh, you opened that door and went inside.

First things first, since they told you that you were going to go to a new department, you had to wait in front of the office of your boss until he assigned you a new role. He was the chief justice of fontain and thus had his own room. It was the last chamber on the right. When it was finally your turn, you heard someone else opening the heavy entrance and walking in. No, not just one, many people, a big group of them, alongside photographers snapping pictures.

That wasn’t your business, so you ignored it and went on with your own life. You put on a fake smile as you greeted that old, insufferable boss of yours, “Good morning Monsieur, what can I do for you?” Your soft and calm tone, honed to perfection, was as flawless as ever. Not a single soul could guess your true feelings beneath that facade. Slowly you got closer to his desk, and he finally notices you.

“You are here, y/n.” He noted, without returning your greeting. “You know you are getting a new job, an important one at that. Don’t fail me.” That man said as he stared right into your eyes, a poor try to intimidate you. “Yes, I understand. May I know the nature of my work?” Despite his impoliteness, you replied in a professional manner. In truth you were sick and tired of this, why did they always have to beat around the bush? It was such a waste of time.

If in the end you have to work overtime because this superior of yours won’t stop yapping, you were really going to throw hands.

“You will see soon.” He said and pointed toward the couch on the left side of the room. You sat down on it soon after, not questioning all this strange behavior. How you hated this, but regrettably the pay was too good. After a short while, the door opened, and the crowd's screams seeped into the room. It got muffled again when the door got closed, the only sounds remaining were the footsteps of two individuals.

You didn’t think much about it and stayed seated, your boss on the other hand got up immediately and welcomed the two guests with open arms. He put on a cheerful air as he said, “Welcome! Thank you for taking the time to visit this humble place, our dearest hydro archon! You as well… errr.. Monsieur!”

Wait what?

Did you hear that right? The hydro archon, focalor? What is she doing here! How could it be that someone like you would be granted the chance to meet her in such a close and intimate setting? This has to be a joke, this has to be- “no need to thank us, please, I have to be the modest one in this situation.” She spoke, her voice was soft like silk, she’d be a great singer. “No way, I’d never dare to disrespect our archon like that. Y/n, you come here too and greet our archon!”

You heard that man call out to you, so you hurried over. There she was, a lady with beautiful long silver-white hair who owned a strong aura. This was no joke, she was the real deal. “Please excuse this citizen, I humbly greet the hydro archon.” You bowed, trying your utmost to be the best version of yourself. From the corners of your eyes, you saw a tall male standing behind the archon. He also looked important, as well as strong.

The way he stood there was confident and serious, something about him told you he wasn’t human. That feeling was supported by his appearance. Putting aside the fact that he was astonishingly beautiful, his hair was also long and white, and some blue strands could be seen on top of his head. Also, he was definitely filthy rich, his clothes were the top quality and looked like the meticulous work of a private designer. Just what did you put yourself into?

Focalor smiled gently, a parent-like smile as she spoke, “It’s alright, I should thank you for taking care of my friend here. Please do your best.” Now you were genuinely confused, this was beyond your comprehension. Was it something only high-ranking people understand? Was it a quiz? You don’t remember helping someone whose Titel was the friend of an archon.

Before you got the time to ponder over her words, she already explained it, saying, “From today onwards, my friend here will take over the job of chief justice. That means you’ll work under his command. But you see, he isn’t good with people, so I’d like to ask you to take care of him.” If this man here will become the new judge, then… you turned over to your now ex-superior, staring at him blankly. “I’ll retire soon, work hard y/n.” He said while smiling irritatingly, before patting you on the shoulder, as if he’s proud of you or something.

How you despised him. Did this really have to happen so spontaneously? Couldn’t they have given you a goddamn warning? A heads-up? You couldn’t get angry though, not in the presence of your deity. “I.. ehm, I accept this job with great gratitude.” You eventually uttered, not knowing what to do in such a situation. Well, you didn’t have a choice, did you?

“Good, how fabulous, then may I request for you to leave the room first?” The archon said as she turned over to look at your ex-boss, and he rushed out of the room just like how he rushed to them the moment he heard their footsteps. Somehow you wished he stayed because it was really suffocating standing there on your own. “I only have one more thing to discuss with you.” Focalor stated, before continuing with, “Can I ask you for a favor?”

You nodded in agreement, replying with a yes. “Could you teach him how to behave like a human? As you probably noticed, he isn’t of the same race as you, but I’d like for him to live among humans freely.” She smiled widely again, bringing forth a sense of comfort. Despite that, you were still hesitant and on edge. The words she voiced out; not human, teaching… it sounds like you’ll have a lot of extra work in the future. Also, how do you teach someone how to be human? Isn't it more of an instinct kind of thing, do you just tell him to have common sense?

“Great! It put me at ease to see my friend here got such a caring assistant, please take care of him in my stead.” Your archon smiled brightly, waving the other person goodbye as she left. Now this is awkward. You were standing face to face with your new superior, someone who was way more important than your previous boss. How great, this is only increasing the pressure at work. With a final sigh, you swallowed the nervousness down and began introducing yourself, “Nice to meet you, I’m y/n, and from today onwards I am your assistant, feel free to ask me anything.”

This should suffice, right? You had to adapt to your new position very quickly, to not seem unreliable, all you hoped for was that he wouldn’t be worse than the last one. “My name is Neuvillette, I’ll be in your care then.” He said while looking at you with his pretty eyes. His eye makeup was very beautiful, or were these markings?

Nonetheless, he was quite the eye candy compared to your ex-boss. Suddenly another concern popped up in your mind, what if he’s a player, or super arrogant? You quickly threw away these thoughts, it would be unfair to judge someone based on their appearance alone. Even though you still hesitated, you forced out a bright smile as always and uttered, “I’ll show you what kind of work you can expect.”

Contrary to what you feared, Neuvillette was very hard-working. He really wanted to do this job well, and he adapted to the position of chief justice very quickly as well. Less than a week later, he was ready to take on court cases and judge the convicts by himself. On the other hand, he didn’t understand humans and their emotions at all. It was difficult for him to learn their manners, especially the meaning of empathy.

He understood the basic concepts, like if someone lost something then they’d be sad. But why should their friend grieve with them as well, they didn't lose anything right? One of his problems was that he couldn’t read between the lines, so if someone didn’t tell him how they felt, he wouldn’t have the slightest clue.

You thought it was due to his rather emotionless nature since he never seemed happy or sad before. He always wore this serious and nonchalant expression, carrying out his duties with the utmost professionalism. He was the perfect judge who stayed clearheaded in every situation, and he was also a great superior. Just saying but, gosh, he finished his work so quickly it was amazing. Also one of the first things you taught him was how to be nice to one’s subordinates, and he’s been following your advice nicely.

Honestly? You enjoyed working under him. Your pay got raised, and you got to take care of a pretty boy. Sure, the hours increased by a bit, but it wasn’t as dramatic as you thought. Sometimes you’d even bring him lunch because you liked his attitude and wanted him to stay until you retire. It was also quite funny how dense he was, things that were normal for you were weird for him. Whenever you saw his perplexed face while studying humans, you couldn't help but chuckle under your breath.

One thing that you noticed after he came to fontain was how the weather worsened. Fontain wasn’t known for having long periods of bad weather, so it was strange how much it rained lately. Well, who knows, it probably doesn’t have a logical explanation behind it anyway. For now, you had to organize these court documents before handing them to 'monsieur' Neuvillette again, humming to yourself as you looked over them. Check.. and check, huh, looking good.

Now you had to find him, where could he be? He wasn’t at the Palais Mermonia, so perhaps he went on a walk? Or was he at his home? The next judgment was going to start in less than an hour, and the chief justice always had to arrive early, even if technically everyone would wait for him to start.

He mentioned to you before how he wished to do his work seriously, and that you had permission to do whatever to teach him if necessary. That’s why you were at his doorstep, knocking on the door while sweat formed on your forehead. You ran all the way here since you didn’t want his reputation to be tarnished by being late. The two of you would need to go to the opera house later as well, and that will take some time too. “Excuse me, Monsieur Neuvillette…?” You called out to him, no response. Weird.

Should you try and look through the windows? Or maybe he’s at the opera house already? That could be it, he has never been late after all. Before leaving completely, you tried to open the door just as a last resort, turning the doorknob. To your surprise, it opened, so the door wasn’t locked. “Huh..?” You gasped, feeling a little nervous now. Why was his door not locked, and should you really just walk inside? After pondering over it for a while you came to the conclusion, well, why not! If he was there, then you’ll quickly get him, and if not you’ll act like it never happened.

Since your reason was important as well, it should be all alright, right? With that being said, you carefully slandered through the halls of his house. His home was very modest, it didn’t reflect his position at all. With his authority, he could have gotten himself a mansion, but he settled for average? Nonetheless, you kept going, opening the doors carefully as if they were out of porcelain. Until you heard a noise. It was muffled through what seemed like a door, was Neuvillette still there or it was an intruder? Somehow you didn’t want to take another step anymore.

You eventually reached the root of the noise, and more sounds emerged from behind the door. It kind of gave you Deja vu, but you weren’t sure what exactly. After much consideration, you just simply opened that door, and warm air instantly hit your face. The room was so hot and full of condensed water, was it a bathroom or sauna?

You squeezed your eyes shut, then blindly entered the room, hands fluttering around to try and find something to hold on to. Then you touched something akin to porcelain, or was it acrylic? When you opened your eyes again, you stood right in front of Monsieur Neuvillette, who seemed to be sleeping in the bathtub. All naked.

It was an understatement to say you were stunned. You were so speechless that you didn’t move for a good minute. What should you do? He is sleeping and hasn’t noticed you yet, should you just wake him up? But this situation was kind of inappropriate. After all, you just intruded into his home and invaded his privacy. Time seemed to pass so slowly, yet you still haven’t come to a conclusion. In the end, you decided to stop being such a wimp and wake him up, then apologize to him a thousand times.

When you gradually got closer to him, you got a better look at his body. His skin was so perfect, smooth, and pale, like these models in magazines. Though he had scales located near his pelvis, which you thought was fascinating. So, when the hydro archon said ‘not human’, she meant a mermaid? There were no mermaid tails to see, perhaps he’s hiding them? Damn, how curious you were, even so, you decided to ask him later since you had other problems at hand. Gently, you nudged his body, hoping that would be enough to wake him up.

Nothing happened.

Then, you shook his shoulder, trying to be tender with him. Still nothing. You sighed, asking yourself what to do. A few moments later his eyelids twitched, and it shocked you to the core, you felt your soul leaving your body for a split second. Now that it has come to this, you were kind of embarrassed. Waiting patiently for him to notice your presence. “Uh.. y/n? What are you doing here?” Neuvillette asked, eyes still half-lidded as he slowly turned to look at you.

“I’m so sorry, Monsieur Neuvillette, but we have a court case in a few-” You stopped abruptly, noticing how his face was all red. “Are you alright, sir?!” In the blink of an eye, you reached out to his face and pressed your palm against his forehead, testing his temperature with your hand. He was burning, did he get a fever or was it because of the water? “This doesn’t look good.. should I postpone the court case?” You mumbled under your breath and pulled your hand back, not noticing the slight blush on his cheeks at your bold moves.

To your surprise, the male commented, “Your hand.. it’s cold, it feels nice.” It seems he really is sick, damn it, you should have taken better care of him. He probably got sick because he worked too much. “I’ll call a doctor, please wait a second.” You proposed, but he denied your idea. “It’s not a big deal, it’s probably because I've been bathing in hot water.” The boy said and stared up at you, his lashes were all wet just like his hair.

Despite the guilt gnawing at you, you had to admit he looked irresistible right now, and the fact that he was all naked was not helping. After more hesitation, your desire won against your reason, and your consciousness was killing you. Should you really do this? You kept asking yourself that question. The thing you were going to do, was it morally correct?

Before you found the answer to that question, you opened your mouth and said half-jokingly, "I understand. But, Monsieur Neuvillette, did you know? There is a very unique human custom that you haven't learned yet." His eyes widened a little, head tilted to the side as he mumbled, "Yes? And what is it?" You swallowed the guilt down your throat and responded, "Our current situation fits the requirements, so following that tradition.. uhm... we could do something… fun, if you want." Look at that unsure tone in your voice, were you trying to convince him or yourself?

Neuvillette looked at you in confusion, waiting for you to continue your story. Eventually, you did exactly that, whispering in a low voice, "It means I could, if you allow it… er, t-touch here..." Out of nowhere, your hand reached downwards, and the sound of water splashing around followed close behind. “Somewhere around here.” He could feel your fingertips brush over his pelvis, and a dark blush covered his face. "I-I see, is it... um, really a custom?" The male shyly looked away, he wasn't sure what to think about this, was it really a cultural thing?

At the same time, he was curious, he wanted to know how humans interacted and worked, so he had to experience it firsthand to understand them. "We don't have to if you don't want to try." You quickly told him, hoping that he was oblivious enough to believe that crazy story. Instead of agreeing, Neuvillette grabbed your wrist and brought it to his crotch. His cheeks were even redder than before as he admitted, "I— I want to try then... I want to learn more about humans."

You could swear you were getting dizzy as well, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sweet voice and erotic display of the male. The uncomfortable yet determined look on his face, and how his body was subconsciously begging you to touch him. Even so, he was your boss, should you really do something like this with him? Your hand kept lingering over his private area, itching to touch him but too worried to actually do it. “Hurry up..” he groaned, and any concerns you had dissipated. “Then.. please lay back and leave it to me.”

Gently, you told Neuvillette to let go of your wrist, and he stayed put all obediently. Seeing how easily he did as you said sent a shiver down your spine, and you started rubbing his belly, causing him to tremble slightly. Neuvillette closed his eyes and sealed his lips together. Your touches moved slowly but surely lower, until your delicate fingertips caressed the baby blue scales above his vent. His breath hitched in his throat, anticipation filling him as well as fear. From that moment onwards, he was yours. His heart beat like crazy, and all because of you, only for you.

On the other hand, you were amazed with his anatomy. The scales were hard and sturdy, but the more you rubbed those beautiful things, the more they softened. It only took a short moment before the male started panting quietly, eyes still pressed into a thin line as he refused to look at you, all due to his own embarrassment.

How cute, you thought. The way he was underneath you with his face flushed like some love-struck maiden encouraged you to go further. This was also how you found out his eyeliner wasn't makeup instead he was born that way. What a beautiful being he was, so breathtaking that he could be an angel sent from the heavens.

The water was clear like glass, you could see everything through it, from his vent to his milky thighs, all of it was laid bare for your eyes to feast on. At first, you wondered if he had a cunt since it looked like one but also not. It didn't bother you in the slightest though. Later on, when you got to the point where you caressed the scales right on his lips, you saw how two dicks slowly emerge from that slit. As if they grew inside him, to the point they were noticeable from the outside.

Right, if that wasn't astonishing enough, there were two? Hah, how incredible! He was really different from humans, and it only intrigued you even more. Neuvillette on the other hand looked so embarrassed, he was never this exposed to anyone, and he also never touched himself there. So you are the first to explore that area, to see this vulnerable, emotional side of his. His expressions were just so pretty~

The fact that he had two dicks was extraordinary, no doubt, but for now you were more invested in that vent of his. With little caresses that were akin to the soft crawls of a kitten without claws, you rubbed the edge of his cunt. "Uh- uhm..! Y/n, please be gen-gentle with me..." He pleaded in a weak voice, hands thrown over his mouth to hide his humiliating noises.

You nodded before caressing that part of him in earnest, and it was so soft, it was way softer than what you imagined. Honestly, you couldn’t even believe what the heck you were doing right now. Playing with him like this, the sheer audacity got you all nervous and lustful. This power struggle was really hot in your opinion. How did things even come to this point? He was only taking a bath, so how are you suddenly doing inappropriate things with him?

The only annoying thing was the water because it kept washing away his natural lubricants. God, you wanted to do so many things to him, to your boss nonetheless, you were so shameless. Then an idea crossed your mind, could you perhaps fit your finger inside that space? Why not try it out..? Gently, or as gently as you could since you had to squeeze a little, you managed to stick your middle finger inside him. It wasn’t even fully in him, yet he was already gasping and moaning.

Hands clenched around the edge of the bathtub, enough for his veins to become noticeable. His insides were so soft and squishy, and the way the edges clenched around your fingers as well as how his dicks twitched was just so erotic. The scales on either side were shining like peals, they had long become soft unlike before. You licked your bottom lip, feeling a sense of lust course through your body.

His pleasure-ridden expression brought you further down this hypnotizing feeling of want and need. “Wha-what is this..?” Neuvillette gasped, gazing at you with a look of confusion and embarrassment. Is this how it is supposed to feel? He did want you to touch him, but this was kind of shameful, yet he didn’t know why. It just felt inappropriate but amazing, he's not even sure if he should stop it or encourage you.

“Y/n… ah, I, mhmm!!” Right before he finished his sentence, you pushed your finger deeper into him, until your digit was buried in his vent to the knuckles. This was quite the fight, though it was worth it. His mouth hung wide open at this point and his entire being was shaking in ecstasy. After making sure he was doing alright, to some extent, you started moving your finger.

Of course, the poor and innocent Monsieur who had never had anyone touch him there yelped in surprise, he didn’t even know you could reach that deep inside! Oh but now he feels like he was being stretched to his limit, and filled to the brim. There was no way he could take any more than this, there was just no way. Your fingers felt so good, he was too ashamed to admit but he loved the feeling of clenching around them, that was all he knew.

He didn’t know the reason why it felt good, nor why he liked it, so he blamed it all on his instincts. "So this is why humans have this custom, it's because it feels so hot and, good..." Neuvillette uttered under his breath, drool was handing out from his lips already. Suddenly you curled them slightly, to press and poke at his soft walls. “Ah-…ah.?!” The dragon couldn’t help but mewl again, his thighs were trembling, causing the water inside the bathtub to splash around.

“This is so fun, isn't it, Monsieur Neuvillette~" You teased while pleasuring him with your finger. "Hu-huh..? uhh- I think so.. er, please address me in-informally in these settings..." He suddenly said, seemingly flustered at the fact that you were using his official title. His adorable words were so cute that you couldn't help yourself again, leading to you rubbing his spongy insides. “HnnGH!! Please… no mo-more..” the male then begged you so sweetly you thought you were going to overdose.

What a pitiful guy, tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill at literally anything. Then it started to rain, the sound of soft raindrops hitting against the bathroom window served as nature's background music for you. “Aw, you want me to stop, Neuvillette?” His two dicks both twitched at the mere mention of his name, precum collecting around his aquamarine tip. Now that you mentioned it, his cocks were fading into blue from his base onwards.

On another note, Neuvi would have been all sticky with precum now if it wasn’t for the water neutralizing it. “I-I mean.. uhh, no, don’t stop haaah...” The male gently placed his hand on top of yours, trying to keep your touch from leaving his body. “I don’t plan on.” You admitted, then used your other hand to jerk off his dicks, taking both with one hand and rubbing them against each other.

“UgGhHH..!! Too much, too- mhm..!” He complained again, to which you responded with, “Aw, don’t be such a fuss, doesn’t it feel good?” There was no denying it because both of you knew he liked it a lot, his expressions revealed it all. “Nghh, i.. I mean-, uhMMm!” It almost annoyed him how his own moans kept interrupting his sentences. Seriously, it was difficult enough to talk and think about how to form coherent sentences, and then his humiliating whines just had to ruin it.

You were enjoying yourself. Oh, you definitely were. His beautiful silver hair was soaked in the water, shining as if stars descended just to decorate his locks. That handsome face of his was tainted with a bright pink, a huge contrast to his normally pale complexion. The tears which were on the verge of falling finally rolled down his cheeks, or was it just the water of the bathtub? Nonetheless, he looked pretty damn erotic in that moment, so beautiful you were dazed.

Neuvillette noticed you staring, which is why he avoided your gaze, feeling too ashamed to hold eye contact. Yes, he felt hot and was craving whatever you could give him, but this side of his was simply too pathetic and lewd! Gradually, the sound and intensity of the rain increased. It kept hitting the window, so you could hear how it got louder and louder, people also started to run under random roofs to keep themselves dry. After you were sure he got used to your finger, you tried to add another one.

“AhHhh! Mhm, no..! There is no-no space left...!” Once again he was trashing around, complaining, making water spill over, wetting you in the process. “Shh, it’s alright, you can do it Neuvillette, I’m sure you can.” You whispered some words of encouragement to him, praising him while you were at it. He heeded your words, trying hard to accommodate your second digit, because he wanted to do it for you. Eventually, he managed to fit both of them inside, even if it was a long journey, “Ah- ahh.. this is, mHffFhm.. your fingers feel to-too gooood♡♥︎?!”

The boy groaned and whimpered, sobbing behind a face of uncontrollable lust. Each of his moans were a blessing from the heavens for your ears, making your heart flutter as if you were going to enter paradise. He was such an angel after all, wasn’t he? That gorgeous white hair he got could be mistaken as a trait of an angel, not to mention his pure and virtuous personality, if he told you he was an envoy of god you would have believed him with no doubts.

“So stunning.” After thinking all of that, you couldn’t help but compliment him again, all while you stretched his vent with all the tenderness in the world. “NGhHh.. m- uhhmm, y/n, please, I want more..” Neuvillette begged you sweetly, eyes half-open as he embraced this perverted side of his. You were genuinely surprised by his words, you didn't expect to hear him plead for more, hence you stopped your movements for a split second. Damn it, you thought he was just an innocent little mermaid, but maybe there is more to it?

To be honest, you were really into all of this as well. Normally he was your superior whom you had to follow and obey like a loyal dog, but now he was like your cute and adorable little pet, begging for you to play with him. How unpredictable the world is, and you didn't mind it at all. Just looking at him was enough to make you happy, and now you got him wrapped around your finger like it. You were ecstatic!

While you were immersed in the perverted appearance of your boss, you subconsciously trusted your fingers in and out of him, ending with him crying out repeatedly and almost creating cracks in the acrylic due to his tight grip. “AaHHhh!! OOHHh..<3! Mhm, too muOochH, fa-fAasterrr.!♡♡♡~!!” At this point, you didn’t know what he was hoping and pleading for. His sentences have long been rid of any logic since he kept giving mixed signals. So all you did was coo at him and promise him that you’ll make him feel good.

His eyes rolled back to the back of his skull when you accidentally brushed over an especially sensitive spot deep inside him. Now he was truly blabbering nonsense, you could barely understand the meaning of his words. When you sneaked a peek at his face, you saw how he was basically melting. Like butter, slowly falling apart due to the heat. Your movements fastened again, repeatedly pushing your digits in and out of him at a quick pace.

You even caught yourself drooling because you were too concentrated on his expressions, how his features twisted into bliss. All due to you and your fingers. “Ahh.. nghHh, I- I can’t.. it’s so we-weird!” Neuvillette managed to groan out with much effort, his entire body was quivering as if electricity was coursing through him. “So-something is..! NghH, hMMn~ <3” Something? What did he mean by that? “Co-coming… it’s co-mHMm, coming out..♥︎～!!!” Ah, that’s what’s happening. Pff—

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his adorable antics, does he even know how cute he was? Carefully, you rubbed and pressed the tip of your fingers against that sweet spot inside him again, almost abusing that poor spot at this point with how much you were touching it. Each time you did that, he’d arch his back off from the bathtub, and his two bluish dicks would jump in excitement. Everything about him was just so cute! Sure, you were smitten with him from the moment you laid your eyes on him, but now you were sure you couldn’t turn back anymore.

How you wished you could devour him. He just looks so delicious, you could eat him out all day long if he allowed it. Not to mention the way his vent clenches around you and churns, it wouldn’t be an overstatement to say you were obsessed, addicted to him. The rest of his body was like a god’s creation as well, sculpted by the meticulous care of the lord.

Each muscle was defined but not overdone, his chest rising and sinking with each breath. His perky nipples also owned a beautiful shade of pink, standing up all proud as if inviting you to taste them. For a second there you were lost in your daydreams, totally hypnotized by the male in front of you. One of his moans managed to pull you out of it, reminding you of your current mission. “UgghHH! Oh-UHhh! Y/n, y/nnn♡♡♥︎!”Neuvillette gasped out for your name multiple times, hoping to reach you.

You’ve been squeezing and grazing his sensitive spots without providing him a break, who would be able to withstand all these currents of ecstasy while staying sane? Though, perhaps the poor hydro dragon wasn’t even in his right mind anymore. He couldn’t speak properly or think clearly, can you really call him sane at this point? No, he was a mess, a fool for your touch, an addict drowning in pleasure.

“Oh? My, I was distracted for a second, wasn't I? You are doing great, Neuvillette, keep going. Cum for me?” You praised him once you took in the situation, now pushing your fingers even deeper inside him, causing his heart to stand still for a second. It was as if his mind was breaking, his brain malfunctioning as hot tears rolled down his eyes and into the bathtub. The loud rain outside the house was picking up, becoming harder by the second.

“MhMNG..! Noo- hhGGNnNMm~ I- I’m aaAngGhh!!” High-pitched moans left his throat, they were more akin to screams of pure bliss than anything else. For a split moment, he could feel his consciousness fading away, blacking out before he returned to reality. Some kind of fluid squirted out of his dick, ending in more pleasure cascading through his veins. “GuHhh, Mhh-nghh...? Ahh, ahGnn y/n, y-y/n… ♡～" Neuvillette gagged and choked on his moans, crying hysterically while his cum kept gushing out of his swollen tip.

His legs shook violently, unable to fathom all these sensations and feelings. It was too much to handle! His orgasm washed over him in the most unexpected way possible, and he wasn’t ready for it. By no means he was, though he wouldn't have been ready until the next century. The consistency of his cum was thick and milky, it immediately sunk down to the bottom of the white bathtub. All his strength was gone as if they got robbed from him.

Neuvillette was limping at this point, his bottom a twitchy something where cum kept shooting out of his slit. You took a good look at him, his hair wet and sticking to his body, head thrown back as if he didn’t have enough strength to hold it up. Those cheeks, ears, and shoulders were all flushed pink, also his mouth was a little open due to his continuous groans. He was panting heavily, breathing still unstable. If you had to take a wild guess, he was probably still processing everything that happened as well as the emotions swirling inside him.

Slowly you took your fingers out, he only reacted minimally to the loss of contact. Eyelid twitching a little when the warmth of your digits subsided. You stared at him, at his fucked out and broken state. At that moment, you were sure he was the most attractive he had ever been. Ah. Suddenly you got reminded of the court case he was supposed to attend. Reality hits you like a door in your face. Wait, what time was it? Could you two still make it in time?

You looked at your pocket watch and.. damn it. 10 minutes until the case begins. There was no way you two would arrive on time, especially since you weren’t sure if he could even walk at this point. Then you noticed how he seems to be coming to his senses, so you gently brushed some strands of hair out of his fucked out face.

While doing that, you wore a worried expression across your features as you whispered, “Uh, first, I’m sorry for entering without permission. Your door was open so I was bold enough to enter, forgive me.” Neuvillette’s eyes widened, did he really make such a stupid mistake, for no reason? Well, he did feel a little hot today, maybe a bit out of it as well, but still. You then kept apologizing, saying, “Second, there is a course case in a few minutes, I’m so sorry for neglecting work.” Your tone was an apologetic one, feeling bad for ruining his great reputation.

To your surprise he didn’t seem bothered at all, instead, he looked away in shame. Probably at the thought of what he just did with you, his assistant. “Uh.. no, it’s fine.. I’m at fault too. I shouldn’t have… gotten you into this mess as well.” You instantly shook your head in opposition, “No no, it's on me. But may I ask, how are you feeling? Does anything feel sore?” His face heated up again and he blushed furiously, you were almost able to see smoke coming out of his head. “No I'm fine..” the male mumbled quietly, still avoiding your eyes.

Without wasting any more time, you proposed, “Then shall we hurry-” “No, it’s alright, y-y/n.” He interrupted you, his voice also stuttered and cracked up as he worded your name. God, he was adorable. “The reporter, who was supposed to be present at the trial, couldn’t make it. He got sick. I.. uh, I met his wife on my way to the opera, and she told me she was going to stop by your office to delay it to you.”

You blinked, once, then twice. So that’s why he wasn’t present. Right, your righteous and hard-working boss would never come too late, there must have been an outer influence. The reason why you didn’t know, was because you were working from home today so there was no way for the news to get delivered to you. What a misfortune, but, you got to do this and that with him, so in the end it was a good thing?

You could feel your own cheeks heat up now that everything was over, and the misunderstanding cleared up. “Err, then.. can I help you with anything else, Monsieur Neuvillette?!” Your voice came out accidentally too rough because you were panicking a little. Damn it.. dealing with the aftermath of your actions was kind of embarrassing. So you really.. did this and that.. haha. Damn your self-control, you even lied to him.

Luckily your kind chief didn’t take your rather loud voice as an insult, instead, he handled it gracefully and said, “It’s alright, I’m sorry that you had to see me in that state. Please wait in the living room while I get ready.” You nodded and left right after he finished his sentence, you figured he’d want a little privacy now that everything was over.

Without wasting much time, you left the bathroom. Slowly, the rain stopped, and everything calmed down again. The fog that was once surrounding everything has also disappeared now. After you left, Neuvillette sighed before slumping back into the water. Whatever just happened… argh, how embarrassing! Please never ever remind him of it, or he might go back to living with nature and Melusines again.

The dragon gazed out of the window, his heart pounding in his chest. He saw as well, how the rainy weather from before left, now replaced by the bright sun. Next time he should be more careful about closing doors and whatnot, even if he ends up enjoying this occasion. His cheeks flushed once again at the thought of you, and he hid under the water. How can he ever look you in the eyes again...?

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

This is going to be a short one, just a quick explanation of the dragon anatomy. (What nobu explained to me)

So, it’s a vent right? Kinda like a vagina but without the clit and looking more like a hole. Then imagine two dicks coming out from the hole, both are curled towards the stomach and the one on top is a little shorter. The tip is rather pointy, with the form looking a little spiky as well? At the base, or the part that’s buried in the vent, it’s his skin colour, and towards the gland it fades into a clear blue, or even mystical purple. Around the veins it’d be slightly purple and it shines a little as if someone poured sparkles over it ✨

Instead of hair, he’d have scales, shiny blue ones (so pretty!!) that cover the entire area. It surrounds his vent and is quite sturdy when he isn’t erect, if you rub it long enough it will become softer. He can hide the two dicks inside his vent or take them out! And a fun fact or headcanon nobu told me was, dragons can only cum from one dick at a time, except they are reaaaally overstimulated.

This artist drew it basically how I imagine it - but they drew it without the vent

[whatifitis]

Close To You

Summary: You haven't seen your boyfriend in months and you want to make up for lost time.

Author's Note: If this is terrible, I'm sorry. Feedback is always appreciated. :)

MDNI

CW: p in v sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, a bit of pain kink if you squint

WC: 2809

It has been months since you’ve been able to see your Charles. The two of you have had chaotic schedules the past few months where the only time you guys could have together was for an hour at most on phone calls or video calls. 

But today is finally the day, after working on a grueling project at work for months, you can finally have some time off to go visit your boyfriend who is currently working in Singapore. 

The Singapore GP is this weekend and you’re ready to spend so much needed time with your love. You have missed him more than words can describe. These past few months have felt like you’ve been missing something. You were always able to sense when something was wrong with him, immediately calling him to check on him. And he was able to do the same for you, always calling at the right time. 

By the time you go to your shared hotel suite, Charles was still out and about, probably in some team meetings to get ready for the weekend. You took the time to organize your belongings in the hotel room and took a much needed shower after your 14 hr flight. 

After your shower, you put on some music as you scrolled through your phone when you heard the door to the suite beep, letting you know that Charles was finally back from his outing. You immediately stood up from your spot on the couch, shaking with excitement to see your love after too long apart. 

Once Charles had turned the corner into the room, he locked eyes with you and practically ran to you. Engulfing you in his arms. Warmth enveloping you and locking you against him. You wrap your arms around his neck and beg god that you’ll never have to be apart from one another again. You take a moment to take everything in. The warmth of his body on yours, the smell of his cologne mixed with a bit of musk from him being out all day, the dampness of his hair from the humidity outside, as you run your fingers through his hair.  You feel his fingers dig into your sides a bit, as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real and not a figment of his imagination. It’s really you. 

“I’ve missed you, ma cherie.” he says into the crook of your neck, still not daring to let you go. 

“I’ve missed you too, my love. So much.”

You feel his arms hold you tighter to him as he says, “Please, never let us be apart for that long ever again.”

“Never again.” you reply, both of you knowing damn well you can’t make that promise, but as long as you can come home to each other at the end of the day, it’s okay. 

Charles pulls back from you a bit, just enough to see your face. Oh how he’s missed being able to see you in person, with his own eyes and be able to feel you beneath his fingertips. Being able to count your freckles himself. Being able to see the sun shine through your brown kaleidoscope eyes. 

He brings his hands to both sides of your face, gently holding you and rubbing his thumbs against your rosy cheeks. He leans forward a bit, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. The two of you stay there, savoring the moment as you’ve been waiting for it since the last time you’d seen each other. His lips feel warm against yours, reminding you of home. Him being your home. The safest place you’ve ever known. 

He gently pulls back before wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, tangling his hand in your hair and pulling you back to his lips. He’s kissing you like he’s been deprived of life. He licks your bottom lip, asking for permission before sliding his tongue into your mouth. Charles tightens his hold on you, angling your head better so he can explore your mouth. His tongue fights against yours, his teeth nipping at your lips, causing a moan to slip free from you. You feel him smile against your lips. 

“S’il te plait, mon coeur. Let me show you how much I missed you.” Charles says as he slowly guides you towards the bed, til the back of your knees hit the edge, making you sit on the edge of the bed. You look up as your love towers over you, looking at you with so much adoration for you, it’s hard to believe that someone could love you so much. 

He begins to kneel in front of you, maintaining eye contact with you. He places his hand on your knee, then the other hand does the same. Slowly moving up your thighs, you can feel how warm his hands are against your skin. His hands move up till they reach your hips, silently, he grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head to reveal your bare torso. Goosebumps cover your skin from the change in temperature you feel and from the way Charles looks at you, as if you aren’t real. 

Charles gives you a deep kiss on your lips, then slowly starts pressing a trail of kisses down your body. From your cheek, to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breasts, down your stomach, all the while his hands roam your body, feeling every part of you. When he reaches your shorts, his fingers intertwine with the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them down as you lift your hips to help him pull them all the way off. You move back, laying on your elbows as you watch him admire the sight in front of him. His beautiful love, laying back as graceful as a goddess, legs spread, showing him how he affects her. Your cunt was slick and glistening, one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen. 

He lightly drags a finger through your wet cunt, collecting some of your slick. He lightly pressed a finger against your clit, making you shudder under his touch. Your breathing becomes shallow as he keeps drawing slow circles on your clit. 

“Please, my love.” you beg. 

“Please, what?” he asks, looking at you with a cheeky grin.

“Please, give me more. I need more.” 

Who is he to deny his girl, he’s practically wrapped around your finger without you having to do anything. 

Charles puts one hand on the side of your abdomen while the other reaches up to your breasts, softly massaging as he connects his lips to your clit with a feather light kiss. You move to lay on your back, trying to maintain control over yourself as you fear this will end sooner than you want. You feel his tongue flatten against your core, licking your cunt and making your stomach flutter at the feeling. He can see how you’re already enjoying yourself and he wants nothing more than to give you everything he has. He delves into you, digging his tongue into you, loving the moans slipping free from your mouth. 

He’s eating you out as if he’s a starved man, finally getting a taste of the most divine being of all time. Your taste is his favorite thing in the world and he feels so lucky that he’s the only one who will ever get to know you like this. He groans at the knowledge that you belong to each other, the vibration making the pleasure you feel ever so blinding. You reach your hand to the back of his head, pushing him deeper into you, his nose is pressing into your clit as he grabs a hold of your hips, moving them to an angle that draws the breath out of your body. You’re gasping for breath as he’s relentless, not giving you, nor himself, a moment to breathe. 

The feeling of his head between your legs, his mouth on your cunt, is enough to drive you crazy. But still not enough. 

“More.” you’re begging, “please, I need more.” 

It’s not long before you feel Charles replace his mouth with his fingers in your cunt. His two fingers plunge into you, filling you and making you gasp. His fingers are pumping in and out of you as he uses his tongue on your clit, you succumb to the pleasure his tongue draws out of you. Your hand runs through his hair, gripping his hair, causing him to hiss from the pain, but he loves it all the same. The pain makes him enjoy himself more. 

You’re a moaning mess, practically writhing on the bed as you feel yourself grow closer to the edge. Your body is covered in a thin layer of sweat, your body so heated from the pleasure you feel. You’re rolling your hips into him, grinding against his fingers and mouth as his movements become faster. You feel the rope in your stomach tighten as you come closer and you try to warn Charles but the pleasure blinds you, leaving you breathless, making your body tense from the intense orgasm. Charles keeps lapping at your cunt with his mouth and pumping his fingers slower to help you come down. 

Charles lifts himself off your clit, removing his fingers from your core slowly. He’s so mesmerized by the way you’re dripping and looking so fucked out. He stands from his spot on the floor, looking down at you, your hair is sprawled on the bed, eyes a bit hazy. He moves to lay over your body on the bed, placing one arm near your head as the other comes up to his mouth. He licks one of his fingers clean of your mess, groaning at the way you taste. He brings his other finger to your lips, “Taste yourself, taste how good you are.” that's all he says before you wrap your lips around his finger, sucking it clean. 

He moves his finger from your mouth, staring deeply into your eyes for a brief moment, before capturing your lips in his. You can taste yourself in his mouth. You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, and you can’t help but see the bulge in his pants, feeling bad that you haven’t done anything for him. But you still want more with him.

“Take off your clothes.” you tell him bluntly. 

“What?” he looks at you confused but still amused. 

“You heard me, take off your clothes.” you smile. 

Without another word, he stands up, removing his clothing one by one. You sit up and watch him, watch how his toned body moves, how the light and shadows move through his body. He takes off his underwear, revealing his hard cock, the tip red and already covered in precum.  You motion for him to sit next to you and he does. Once he’s next to you, you go to straddle him. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. You bring your arms around his neck, moving in to kiss him. The kiss isn’t aggressive or fast, it’s soft and slow, as the two of you enjoy this moment together. Trying to make up for lost time. 

Without breaking the kiss, you move one of your hands to wrap around the head of his cock, using the precum to your advantage. With a light twist or two around his tip, you move to lightly grip his shaft, stroking him till his head rolls back. You keep doing this for a minute before lifting your hips, aligning yourself with him. With your other hand, you move to grip the juncture between his shoulder and neck to balance yourself. You watch his face as you slowly sink down onto him, watching as his eyes flutter shut, mouth gaping open. His grip on your waist tightens as his body washes over with a sense of pleasure. 

You relish in the way he fills you, emotionally and physically. No one has ever or could ever make you feel the way he does, whether it’s in bed or not. No one’s ever had you, not like him. He sees every part of you, and still loves you with all his heart, his whole being. Through every fault, he’s still there. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 

You sink down until you reach his hilt. Both of you releasing the breaths you didn’t know were being held. You sit there for a moment, neither of you moving so that you can adjust to him. Your body feels warm because of the way your bodies mold together, after feeling cold for so long with him being away. Your pussy feels like it’s burning, not being used to the feeling of him again. 

Charles breaks the silence, “Ma cherie, please move. I need you to move please. Make me feel good again.” 

His breathing is already heavy, not being able to keep himself together at the feeling of him inside you. You slowly move your hips up, before slamming your hips back down onto his, making your boyfriend let out a moan. Both of you are reveling in the feeling of being together again. 

You continue bouncing on him, your throbbing pussy warming him. His attempt at keeping it together is slowly going out the window as you continue to grind on his dick. His breathing is becoming erratic. He can feel your legs grow tired so he moves his hands to your ass, digging his fingers into them, you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. He continues helping you ride him. He can feel some of your slick dripping from your pussy, rolling down to his balls. The feeling drives him mad with lust. It’s taking everything in him to not flip over your bodies so that he can be in control and fuck you. But selfishly, he doesn’t. 

He loves being able to watch you. Watching your face as you ride him, how your tits bounce in his face, the way your stomach tenses as you get closer to finishing, watching as your eyes become hazy, rolling to the back of your head. He loves hearing you moan into his ear, his favorite sound in the world. 

His breathing is getting more erratic, he’s growing louder as he’s nearing the edge, trying to hold on until you cum as well. He’s getting desperate, holding onto your body so tightly, feeling your nails dig into his shoulders, listening to you chant his name over and over again as the sheets beneath him feel ablaze. 

Your bodies stick together as you keep riding him. You get lost in the feeling of him. You close your eyes as you start seeing stars and mumbling incoherent words. 

“Baby, please. I can’t hold it much longer, I need to cum.” he whines, biting into your shoulder, trying to keep his composure, trying to wait for you. 

You take one of your hands to your clit, trying to draw fast circles on it. 

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m trying.” you say, embarrassed that it’s taking you longer to finish since you haven’t been together for months. 

“It’s okay. Don’t ever apologize for that. I love you so much, baby. Just keep going. Let me help.” he encourages through gasps of air. 

He moves your hand from your clit, replacing it with his own to help you to the edge. You can already feel yourself getting closer and closer. He’s always had a way with knowing your body. 

It’s not long until you’re both right at the edge of release. You’re teetering on the edge when Charles starts fucking up into you and says, “Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

With that, you feel yourself fall into a deep pool of pleasure. Your vision blackens and all you can do is hold onto him, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck to keep yourself from falling apart. You quietly chant his name through your orgasm. 

The way your pussy closed around his dick, sent Charles into his own pleasure. He keeps fucking into you through his release, letting moans of your name slip free. 

Both of you hold onto each other as you try and come down from your highs. Both of you breathing heavily when you rest your forehead on his. 

You pull back for a moment, looking into those beautiful eyes. Your favorite colors all in one place. You bring your hand to grab his jaw, tilting his head and gently capturing his lips in yours. You stay like that until Charles breaks the kiss, looking at your blissed out face. He opens his mouth and says, “I don’t have wings, and I never will. But if these heights should bring my fall, I only pray, don’t fall away from me.”

[linkhundr]

So NFTgate has now hit tumblr - I made a thread about it on my twitter, but I'll talk a bit more about it here as well in slightly more detail. It'll be a long one, sorry! Using my degree for something here. This is not intended to sway you in one way or the other - merely to inform so you can make your own decision and so that you aware of this because it will happen again, with many other artists you know.

Let's start at the basics: NFT stands for 'non fungible token', which you should read as 'passcode you can't replicate'. These codes are stored in blocks in what is essentially a huge ledger of records, all chained together - a blockchain. Blockchain is encoded in such a way that you can't edit one block without editing the whole chain, meaning that when the data is validated it comes back 'negative' if it has been tampered with. This makes it a really, really safe method of storing data, and managing access to said data. For example, verifying that a bank account belongs to the person that says that is their bank account.

For most people, the association with NFT's is bitcoin and Bored Ape, and that's honestly fair. The way that used to work - and why it was such a scam - is that you essentially purchased a receipt that said you owned digital space - not the digital space itself. That receipt was the NFT. So, in reality, you did not own any goods, that receipt had no legal grounds, and its value was completely made up and not based on anything. On top of that, these NFTs were purchased almost exclusively with cryptocurrency which at the time used a verifiation method called proof of work, which is terrible for the environment because it requires insane amounts of electricity and computing power to verify. The carbon footprint for NFTs and coins at this time was absolutely insane.

In short, Bored Apes were just a huge tech fad with the intention to make a huge profit regardless of the cost, which resulted in the large market crash late last year. NFTs in this form are without value.

However, NFTs are just tech by itself more than they are some company that uses them. NFTs do have real-life, useful applications, particularly in data storage and verification. Research is being done to see if we can use blockchain to safely store patient data, or use it for bank wire transfers of extremely large amounts. That's cool stuff!

So what exactly is Käärijä doing? Kä is not selling NFTs in the traditional way you might have become familiar with. In this use-case, the NFT is in essence a software key that gives you access to a digital space. For the raffle, the NFT was basically your ticket number. This is a very secure way of doing so, assuring individuality, but also that no one can replicate that code and win through a false method. You are paying for a legimate product - the NFT is your access to that product.

What about the environmental impact in this case? We've thankfully made leaps and bounds in advancing the tech to reduce the carbon footprint as well as general mitigations to avoid expanding it over time. One big thing is shifting from proof of work verification to proof of space or proof of stake verifications, both of which require much less power in order to work. It seems that Kollekt is partnered with Polygon, a company that offers blockchain technology with the intention to become climate positive as soon as possible. Numbers on their site are very promising, they appear to be using proof of stake verification, and all-around appear more interested in the tech than the profits it could offer.

But most importantly: Kollekt does not allow for purchases made with cryptocurrency, and that is the real pisser from an environmental perspective. Cryptocurrency purchases require the most active verification across systems in order to go through - this is what bitcoin mining is, essentially. The fact that this website does not use it means good things in terms of carbon footprint.

But why not use something like Patreon? I can't tell you. My guess is that Patreon is a monthly recurring service and they wanted something one-time. Kollekt is based in Helsinki, and word is that Mikke (who is running this) is friends with folks on the team. These are all contributing factors, I would assume, but that's entirely an assumption and you can't take for fact.

Is this a good thing/bad thing? That I also can't tell you - you have to decide that for yourself. It's not a scam, it's not crypto, just a service that sits on the blockchain. But it does have higher carbon output than a lot of other services do, and its exact nature is not publicly disclosed. This isn't intended to sway you to say one or the other, but merely to give you the proper understanding of what NFTs are as a whole and what they are in this particular case so you can make that decision for yourself.

[starlightkun]

❥・word count: 25.5k ❥・genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, single dad kun, single mom reader, there is some angst but not between reader and kun, more-so around them in terms of like life events ❥・warnings: cursing, kid on kid violence (biting lol) ❥・extra info: people are called ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’ in this so if u can’t be normal abt that maybe skip this one ❥・author’s note: omggg it’s finally here! this one has been a wip for like literally like 1.5 yrs i think? anyway im absolutely in love w single dad kun in this one, and i hope u guys fall in love w him too 🫶

“Mr. Qian, I’m failing to see how this is any of your concern.”

“Because you’re treating my kid like he’s a felon.”

“Well yours treated mine like a chew toy so excuse me for exercising some caution,” you finally snapped, tightening your grip around your son and cradling the back of his head.

PART I: moments turn to dreams within my mind

Woobin had always been a kid with big feelings, from big smiles to big tears, and as his mom you encouraged him to feel those big feelings when they came. Your older cousin often warned you that you were raising a “crybaby,” but you brushed off her attempts at parenting advice. You’d rather have your Woobin and all his softness than her kid who screamed and threw his monster trucks at the wall at the slightest provocation.

But that didn’t make it any easier for you to walk in and see your son bawling by himself in the corner of his classroom when you went to pick him up from preschool that afternoon. You immediately skirted around a couple other kids and parents to kneel down beside him, feeling your heart breaking as you rubbed his back, “Binnie, Binnie, hey, hey, hey. Mommy’s here.”

You caught the three-year-old by the underarms before he could throw his arms around your neck. His face was bright red, eyes puffy from clearly how hard he had been crying, and snot and spit coated his chin.

“Wait a second, Binnie, I know,” you kept your voice level and calm despite how frantic you felt. “Is it a scary cry or a boo-boo cry?”

It took him several deep inhales and sniffling exhales before he could sob out, “Scary and boo-boo cry, Mommy!”

“Oh, baby,” you immediately enfolded him in your arms, cradling him to your chest gently. “What hurts, Binnie? Can you show me the boo-boo?”

It was then that one of his teachers finally joined you, an apologetic look on her face, “Ms. Y/N, I am so sorry. We would have called, but it happened right before the end of the school day.”

“What happened?”

“Woobin had an incident with another friend.”

“An incident? What sort of incident?” You looked around for another crying kid, expecting that they both had gotten hurt doing something together.

Woobin had just pulled up the left sleeve of his whale patterned longsleeve shirt when his teacher explained to you, “Woobin got bit.”

And there, on your son’s upper arm was the bright red imprint of teeth marks. In fact, it seemed to have been so recent that you could still see the indents in his skin. You were filled with such a burning, white hot rage that your skin tingled and if you weren’t already holding Woobin, you think you would’ve swung on someone. You liked to consider yourself a level-headed person, in control of your emotions, but it was practically all out the window in that moment.

“He got bit?” You repeated her phrasing incredulously. “You mean another kid bit him.”

“I understand that this can be upsetting—”

“How did this happen?” You demanded, pulling Woobin’s sleeve back down and wrapping your arms around him tighter. “What were you doing?”

“Ma’am, I think it would be best for all of us to have a discussion about this together.”

“All of us? Including the biter’s parents? I want to know what you are going to do to make sure my child is safe at your preschool before I even think about bringing him back here, much less have some mediation like he’s at fault as much as the kid who bit him.”

The teacher paused, as if waiting to see if you were done, before speaking again, “Ms. Y/N, it is our policy in such incidents to have a meeting between school personnel and the guardians of both involved children, regardless of... injury. In order for Woobin to keep his spot, you two are required to attend this meeting. We understand if you wish to seek out different accommodations for him, however, we’ve found that all parties are typically satisfied with the outcome of this process. I highly encourage you try it, and if you still want to pull Woobin from our program after, that is of course your decision as his mother.”

Your chest was heaving as you took deep breaths, clenching your jaw as you stared her down. After a few moments of deliberation and listening to your son’s continued sobs, you let out a short and bitter sigh, “When would this meeting be?”

“After school tomorrow. Will you be available then?”

“Fine. Yes,” you stood up with your boy still in your arms, shifting him onto your hip. “But Woobin will not be at school tomorrow.”

“He will be missed,” she nodded with that same placid smile.

As you stalked out of the classroom, you passed by a father and son speaking to the other teacher.

The next day, you dropped Woobin off at your parents’ place with a peck on his forehead and profuse ‘thank you’s to them. You had vented to your mother on the phone the night prior, after putting your son to bed, finally letting loose all the obscenities that you had wanted to in the preschool. Your mom gladly took her grandson for the day before shooing you off to work.

You then had to leave work a little early to pick Woobin up from your parents’ to take him to the preschool since the meeting was to take place right after the school day ended. For some godforsaken reason that escaped you, they required the kids to be in attendance at the meeting too. As if your three-year-old was really going to be testifying about the entire situation. The most him being there could accomplish was prove that he had a bite mark, which a picture on your phone could also do.

After a “give ‘em hell” from your mom, and an offer to come along from your dad, which you contemplated for a moment, then declined, you started for the school. While your dad coming along would make you feel better, it would also make you feel like you were buying your first car again and were afraid of the salesman trying to scam you for being a woman. This was a meeting about the welfare and treatment of your son, you could do this.

Standing in the lobby with some other parents who were milling around, waiting for the respective classrooms to announce they were ready for pick-up, you found yourself tapping your foot impatiently. The 1-year-olds picked up first, then the 2-year-olds. As those families filtered out, you were left with only a few parents, as this section of the school only went up to 3-year-olds. The 4-year-olds went to a different wing of the building for VPK, and you knew that the other buildings on the rather expansive campus held an elementary, middle, and even high school.

You felt Woobin shift in your arms to get comfortable, and readjusted him to your other hip, “Sorry, Binnie, I know you’re tired.”

“Do you two want to sit?” A voice spoke up from behind you.

You turned around and had to look down at a man in a suit sitting on one of the padded benches in the lobby. He was presumably some kind of businessman from the nice upkeep and fit of his suit, even as he had loosened the tie a little bit for being off of work. His handsome, friendly smile would’ve made your heart skip a beat on any other day, if you weren’t on a mission today.

All of the seating had been taken up when you got there, and you didn’t even think to look around for open spots as other parents started to leave.

The man shifted to one end, gesturing towards the open spots that could fit probably three adults comfortably. You smiled at him gratefully, “Oh, yes, thank you.”

You sat down, keeping your sleepy Woobin on your lap. Being at his grandparents’ today had thrown off his usual nap schedule, and you rubbed his back soothingly. Rolling up his sleeve which was on the side opposite from the man, you inspected the bite mark. It had blossomed into a rather gnarly bruise overnight, all blue and purple, and it only made anger churn again in your chest. He hadn’t given any indication that it still hurt as you fixed his sleeve, thumb tenderly swiping over the area after.

Finally, the three-year-old class was dismissed for pick-up, and the other parents gathered their children. You hung back, waiting for all of them to filter out, before you approached the classroom. You figured the parents of the biter would still be in there, but hadn’t expected the man who had offered you a seat to be the one there with another little boy and the teachers.

“Wonderful, everyone is here,” Mrs. Chen, the older of the two teachers, announced.

“Qian Kun.” The man took it upon himself to do the introductions, bowing to you politely. He then ruffled the hair of the boy standing beside him, just above knee-height, “And this is my son Junyi. I am deeply sorry for Junyi biting Woobin, Miss…?”

“Y/L/N Y/N,” you half-nodded half-bowed back to him as best you could with Woobin in your arms. “And before we get into all that, what I really want to know is—” You rounded on the teachers. “How this could have even happened.”

Ms. Xu, the younger teacher with whom you had spoken yesterday, opened a door on the far side of the classroom, “Of course. We’ll be having the meeting in here.”

With a short sigh at how your question was once again brushed off, you stepped into the interior office space. It looked like it must be where the teachers took their breaks and did any sort of administrative work. A few desks were against the walls, closed laptops and bags set on a couple of them. There was a table set up in the middle, four chairs around it, and a small area with toys off to the side.

“We have a place over there for the children to play while we discuss,” Ms. Xu smiled, gesturing to the toys you’d spotted when you walked in.

Mr. Qian nodded, gently directing his son towards them, “Go on and play for a bit, Junyi. Daddy’s going to talk right over here, okay?”

Junyi toddled over and plopped himself down on the playmat, picking up a truck and doll, easily entertaining himself. The other three adults looked to you and your son expectantly.

“Thank you, but Woobin is going to be staying with me,” you informed them. All the talking had made Woobin stir, but he seemed rather content in your arms anyway, simply looking between all the adults with big, curious eyes.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I assure you, I had a talk with Junyi last night and again this morning about not biting our friends. He shouldn’t be doing that anymore.”

“And I assure you, Mr. Qian, my concerns are not about your parenting,” you told him frankly. “But Woobin will be remaining with me for the duration of this meeting.”

“Ms. Y/L/N, really, Woobin will be fine with Juny—”

“Mr. Qian, I’m failing to see how this is any of your concern.”

“Because you’re treating my kid like he’s a felon.”

“Well yours treated mine like a chew toy so excuse me for exercising some caution,” you finally snapped, tightening your grip around your son and cradling the back of his head.

Mr. Qian’s jaw dropped, and Mrs. Chen cut in before he could say anything else.

“Let’s all sit down and try to have a more productive discussion.” The words were phrased like a suggestion, but the stern tone she said them in very much let you know that they weren’t. “Ms. Y/L/N, Woobin can of course be wherever you are most comfortable having him.”

You nodded to her curtly, taking a seat at the table. With Woobin more awake, you turned him in your lap to face the table, and set up a couple toys and small games on the tabletop to keep him occupied. The teachers took a seat beside each other, leaving you and Mr. Qian sitting caddy-corner.

“First, I want to know what happened,” you demanded, entirely focused on the two teachers.

Ms. Xu took over the explaining, “The class had earned free play yesterday after finishing their curriculum work early. After, we were doing our end of the day clean-up activities, which all of the students help with. Junyi and Woobin were assigned to pick up toys this week. It seems there was a disagreement about who was going to be putting away a specific toy, a whale. Woobin was bit.”

You clenched your jaw at that passive phrasing again. “And where were you two when this was going on?”

“Mrs. Chen was assisting the students who were cleaning the snack tables on the other side of the room. I was the one overseeing the students tidying that side of the room.”

“What do you mean when you say disagreement? I’m trying to understand how it was allowed to escalate into biting.”

Mr. Qian finally spoke up again, “Ms. Y/L/N, Junyi has never done anything like this before, I honestly don’t know where this came from. He’s not a mean kid.”

“Mr. Qian, that is not what I said nor asked,” you turned to him coolly. “I want to know what exactly she was seeing and how much time she had to intervene.”

Ms. Xu recalled, “The two of them were getting along fine. Junyi did seem to be getting a little frustrated, and Woobin was beginning to tear up, but there was no contact at that point, and we know how Woobin is.”

She glanced at the boy on your lap with a sympathetic look, and it took everything in you to hold back your revulsion at her. Yes, your son was quicker to cry than others, but that didn’t mean that as the adult, she shouldn’t investigate what exactly was making him cry.

“I was keeping an eye on the situation to see if they would resolve it on their own,” she tried to reassure you. “If I had thought that it would escalate like that at all, I promise I would have intervened. The contact was entirely unexpected and very sudden.”

“The biting.” You clarified flatly.

“Well, yes,” she nodded. “As soon as I saw it happen, both Mrs. Chen and I went over and separated the two. It was no more than a second or two at most, Ms. Y/N.”

“It sounds like you two did the best you could’ve,” Mr. Qian told the teachers before turning to you once more. “Ms. Y/L/N, again, I am so sorry that Junyi did this, but it sounds like it really did come out of nowhere.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply to recenter yourself. Entirely ignoring Mr. Qian’s platitudes, you looked at the teacher, “It took you just a second or two to separate them?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Binnie, may I?” You murmured to your son, reaching for the sleeve of his shirt.

“Okay, Mommy,” he easily let go of his toy for you.

Rolling up the longsleeve of his shirt you turned him a little to show off the deep black, blue, and purple bruise in the perfect shape of a set of little teeth to the other three adults sitting around the table with you. Ms. Xu audibly gasped, Mrs. Chen covered her mouth and looked away, and Mr. Qian had the most visceral reaction, grimacing with his whole upper body as if he’d been slapped.

“I simply find it hard to believe that it was only a mere one or two seconds when my son’s arm looks like this now,” you stated, making firm eye contact with both teachers. “So, I will ask again: How long did it take you to separate them?”

Mrs. Chen and Ms. Xu exchanged uncomfortable looks before the older woman took over speaking.

“Ms. Y/N, I’m not sure if you’ve had experience with removing a child that’s bitten onto another and won’t let go, but you can’t simply rip them apart without causing further damage to the other child’s skin. Ms. Xu couldn’t separate them on her own, she had to wait for me to get there, and as we’ve already said, I was on the other side of the classroom. So yes, it did take longer than we would have liked to separate the two.”

“So it took longer than two seconds, which is what you just told me, twice. You have lied to me twice now about how my child got injured in your classroom.” You rolled Woobin’s sleeve back down, absentmindedly patting his head. Leaning forward as much as you could with him there, you jutted your pointer finger decidedly into the tabletop outside of his toys, “So now I want to know what you and the school are going to do to ensure my son’s safety in your classroom.”

The father beside you suddenly jolted into action at your words, “Ms. Y/L/N, Junyi won’t—”

You rounded on him incredulously, doing your best to both be firm while not absolutely losing it on him, “Mr. Qian, I have already told you that I am not here to concern myself with how you parent your child. And I think the fact that you take my concern for my own child’s wellbeing as an affront to your relationship with yours says more than I would ever think is appropriate for me to.”

Okay, maybe you lost it on him a little.

With him sufficiently dumbfounded, you were able to focus back on the school staff in front of you, “Now please, can we get back to the topic at hand? I want to know what you two plan on doing about classroom management and observing the children under your care to prevent future incidents like this from happening. And I want it written down in a formal document, with assurances from your superiors about how both that and your staff training on communication with parents will be handled, because it certainly can’t include lying to them.”

Ms. Xu looked down at her lap guiltily, while Mrs. Chen simply looked disgruntled. You held the older woman’s gaze steadily, having a distinct feeling that little lie you’d been told was her doing, and the junior teacher was following her own superior’s lead.

“Of course, Ms. Y/N. I will call the principal right now to aid in drawing up the document you’ve requested,” Mrs. Chen acquiesced, standing up and moving over to one of the desks, picking up the landline phone sitting there.

You nodded to her, finally letting your eyes drop down to your kid in your lap. You were unable to fight off the smile that spread across your lips as you looked at your son, picking up one of his hands and bringing it up to your mouth to kiss his little fingers.

“My turn Mommy!” He squealed, grabbing one of your fingers and giving it a comically loud smooch.

You could feel Mr. Qian’s gobsmacked stare on you still, but ignored him. You’d done what you came here to do, none of which involved making nice with the biter’s parents. While what you’d said about not wanting to comment on his parenting was true, that didn’t mean that you hadn’t formed a silent opinion or two about it, especially with how defensive he was. Needless to say, with how he’d attempted to handle this, you didn’t really think very highly of Mr. Qian.

After leaving the mediation with your own copy of the formal plan on how the three-year-old classroom’s management and safety procedures were going to be tweaked—with specific policies about biting and inter-student de-escalation—and a form that you and Mr. Qian had signed attesting that you participated in and were satisfied with the mediation process, you paused in the lobby of the school. You were juggling too many things: the papers, some of Woobin’s toys, Woobin, your purse, all while trying to get your car keys.

“Hey, you need some help?”

You turned to Mr. Qian with a strained smile, “No, thank you, we’re okay.”

Considering the conversation over, you went to set Woobin down on the ground, “Here, Binnie, wait right here next to Mommy.”

“Oh, glad to see his legs do work.” The man was apparently still there.

“Yes, they do.” You pressed your lips into a flat line, not very amused. “And I don’t appreciate the passive-aggressive comment on my parenting, Mr. Qian.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Your joke was referencing the fact that the entire time you’ve seen Woobin and me this afternoon, I’ve been either carrying him or holding him in my lap, despite the fact that he can stand on his own. You’ve been letting your son walk on his own all afternoon and haven’t picked him up once. Thus, implying that I’m coddling my son and raising him to be dependent on me, while you’re raising yours to be independent.” You tossed Woobin’s toys into your purse, then folded the papers in half to tuck in as well. “Trust me, I’ve dealt with lots of people thinking they can give me unwarranted advice on parenting. Especially men who think I’m going to give him one too many hugs and he’ll develop an Oedipus complex. They also presumably think that my uterus is roaming around my body causing me to become hysterical while I’m telling them off, too.”

Having finally fished your car keys out from the bottom of your purse, you hoisted Woobin back up into your arms, defiantly making eye contact with the father, “Goodbye, Mr. Qian.”

A couple weeks of uneventfully picking up Woobin from preschool passed by. You saw Mr. Qian in the lobby, or passed by him in the classroom, of course. But you made no moves to talk to or even acknowledge him, nor he you. Ms. Xu seemed genuinely apologetic about what happened, doing everything possible to ingratiate herself to you at every opportunity, chatting you up at pick-up, asking about your day at work, or telling you about how well Woobin did at curriculum or art or such during the day. Mrs. Chen was cordial, and did your requested weekly check-ins on how the implementation of the new procedures were coming along. You sincerely engaged with and thanked her after each update. After all, you wanted your relationship with your son’s teachers to be productive, not adversarial. As long as they were done lying to you.

Today when you went to pick up Woobin, he was contently sitting in his chair at a table, swinging his feet under him. You squatted down beside him, mussing up his hair a bit, “Hey, Binnie. Have a good day?”

“Yes,” he nodded, reaching out towards you, and you grabbed his hand. “Missed Mommy.”

“And I missed Binnie!” You replied, squeezing his little tummy, delighting in the bright little giggle he let out. “Now come on, bubbles, let’s go home.”

“Oh, Ms. Y/N!” Ms. Xu was suddenly at your side before you could stand up.

“Ah, hello, Ms. Xu, how are you?”

“I’m very excited, actually. But first, Woobin had a fantastic day at school today. He went down so easy for naptime, and he finished the curriculum so fast that we brought out a 4-year-old worksheet for him just to see, and he did that one too! It was some counting, and he did great!”

You turned to your son with a grin, “Did you have fun doing all that counting, Binnie?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“And are you proud of yourself, bubbles?”

“Yes, Mommy. Can I have a high five?”

“You can have two high fives,” you held out both your palms for him to smack his little hands into.

Turning back to the teacher, you indulged her in the question she very clearly wanted you to ask, “And why are you so excited, Ms. Xu?”

She handed you the piece of paper in her hands, “Well, the Fall Festival is coming up. The entire campus pitches in to put it on, and this year the preschool is running the Bake Sale table. We’re asking parents to volunteer to either bring treats, set up, break down, or do a shift running the table. If you’re able.”

It looked like you were the first parent Ms. Xu had given the sign-up sheet to, all the slots were empty. Eight slots to bring different baked goods, and two slots for each hour-long shift. While you weren’t exactly feeling charitable to the school—Woobin’s bruise still hadn’t fully healed—you noticed the text at the top of the sign-up sheet advertising that any parent who volunteered would get two free ride tickets. Woobin hadn’t gone on his first Ferris Wheel yet, and that was a memory you were looking forward to making with him.

“The ride tickets—” You tapped that part of the paper to draw Ms. Xu’s attention to it. “Will there be a Ferris Wheel?”

Her face immediately lit up and she nodded fervently, “Yes! And Woobin should be just big enough as long as he sits in your lap.”

Well, you could kill an hour running a Bake Sale table with another random preschooler’s parent then take Woobin on the Ferris Wheel. You quickly scribbled down your name for the first hour after the set-up shift, then handed the paper back to Ms. Xu.

The day of the Fall Festival was upon you, and you were holding Woobin’s hand as you walked across the expansive campus grounds. The booth where the preschool’s Bake Sale was set up was near the other food and carnival games towards the front of the grassy clearing, and you could see the Ferris Wheel at the very back. You were about fifteen minutes early, and most vendors were still finishing setting up. Since you were doing the first shift, you wanted to make sure you weren’t late, as well as see if there was anything from set up that you could help with if needed.

The Bake Sale booth was easy to find, and you saw two men there carrying in large tubs filled with containers of various baked goods.

“Good morning!” You greeted them brightly. “Are you the set-up crew?”

“Johnny Suh,” the taller of the two gestured to himself, then to his companion, “Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Nice to meet you two, I’m Y/L/N Y/N, and this is Woobin. I’m on the first shift. Your kids are in the three-year-old class as well, right?”

“Yes, Sungchan,” Mr. Jeong confirmed with a smile. “I think I’ve seen you around the classroom at drop off and pick up before.”

“And Mark is my boy,” Mr. Suh nodded, then looked around the property. “Well, these are the last of it. Now, he should be around here somewhere…”

You followed Mr. Suh’s gaze, and your stomach dropped as you recognized two familiar figures approaching the table from the direction of the school. Qian Kun was holding a metal box in one hand, and his son’s hand with the other. He set the metal box down on the table.

“Sorry, had to get the money box from Mrs. Chen in the classroom,” he explained, then looked to the two men with you. “Thank you, Mr. Suh, Mr. Jeong. Ms. Y/L/N and I have got it from here.”

“Alright, we’ll see you at the end for break-down, then,” Mr. Suh slapped Mr. Qian’s shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“Goodbye, Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Qian. You too, Woobin and Junyi!” Mr. Jeong gave waves to all four of you before taking off after the other man who was already several long strides away from the table. “Hey, Johnny!”

Two pop-up chairs were set up behind the table, and Mr. Qian grabbed a bag that was beside one, unfurling a playmat from the inside and laying it down on the ground beside the table. He poured out a bunch of toys too, then squatted down beside his son.

“Alright, Junyi, I need you to look at me. Daddy needs you to play on this blanket today, okay? If you need to go off the blanket, you have to tell Daddy first. It’s so we can stay safe. You cannot leave the blanket without telling Daddy. All your favorite toys are there, you’re going to play with them and have fun. I’ve got snacks and stuff, too. But you need to stay on it. Do you understand, Junyi?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Okay, can you please tell me what you’re going to do then?”

“I’m going to play on the blanket.”

“And what if you want to leave?”

“I ask Daddy.”

“Why?”

Junyi’s face screwed into a pout as he tried to remember. “I forgot, ‘m sorry…”

“That’s okay, buddy. It’s so we can be safe,” Mr. Qian repeated it for him. “Now, why are we going to stay on the blanket?”

“So we can be safe.”

“Good, buddy,” He ruffled his son’s hair. “Now go play, I’ll be right here at this table.”

The man stood up straight again, his eyes flicking over you briefly as he began organizing the sweets on the table.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N. Woobin is welcome to play on the mat with Junyi during the shift, if you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

“Oh, thank you.” You led Woobin over to the mat as well. “Binnie, Mommy is going to be working for a while at this table. Your job is to stay on the playmat with Junyi, so that you two can stay safe, okay? You cannot leave the playmat without Mommy.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“So tell me, what are you going to do?”

“Play with Junyi.”

“Where?”

“On the playmat.”

“Can you show Mommy what all the playmat is?”

He pointed to the edges of the yellow and blue blanket for you.

“And are you going to leave it without Mommy?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“So I can be safe.”

You grinned at him, “Thank you, bubbles. Go play, baby. Call for Mommy if you need me, okay?”

“Okay.”

After depositing a few more toys that you had brought along for Woobin on the mat, you returned to where Mr. Qian was setting out the food.

“Here,” he held a tray of brownies out to you. “These will go there, right in front of you.”

“Oh, got it.” You set them down exactly where he gestured. “So, you signed up for set up and the first shift?”

“I’m actually helping to run the Bake Sale, so I’m setting up, breaking down, and filling in for whichever slots nobody signed up for.”

“Wait, did you bake these, too?”

“Only the ones in containers with the green lids. Other parents contributed too.”

You looked over the baked goods he had indicated. All the ones in the green containers looked the best, you had considered in the back of your mind that one of the richer parents might have just bought them from a bakery and brought them in instead of baking themselves.

Sneaking a glance at the man beside you, you then panicked when you realized that he was already looking at you, expectantly holding out a plate of frosted sugar cookies.

“Here, next to the brownies.”

“Right, on it.”

Mr. Qian cleared his throat, “I am surprised, Ms. Y/L/N… that you’re allowing Woobin to play with Junyi.”

“I’ve also allowed him back at school for the past month, Mr. Qian.” You pointed out. “As I said, my issue has never been with Junyi, but with how the school handled the entire situation.”

“Hm.”

You let out a short sigh, “Though, I am sorry for some of the things I said at that meeting, they were out of line.”

“Some? May I inquire about which ones?”

“The chew toy thing…”

“Oh, yes.”

“And the whole ‘my concern over my child’s safety not being an affront to your relationship with yours.’ That was seriously… awful of me. Just so pretentious,” you breathed out, feeling ashamed as you relived your words. But if you were to ever expect to teach your son humility and owning up to his mistakes, you had to practice it yourself. “I said I wasn’t there to comment on your parenting and then I did exactly that in the exact same breath. I’m sorry, Mr. Qian, and I hope you can believe me when I say that.”

He held your gaze steadily, “I forgive you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Everything else I said, though, I stand by,” you reaffirmed pointedly.

“I understand,” he nodded.

You were pretty sure the festival had officially opened, as families had begun filtering in. Some were slowing down as they passed by your table to skim their eyes over your offerings, but none had stopped so far. So you were still just stuck there with Qian Kun and the overwhelming silence that felt like it was damn near suffocating you.

“So, what do you do for a living?” You finally decided to ask. If you weren’t going to be holding a grudge against the guy, you might as well make small talk.

“I’m in sales.”

Okay, small talk was not his forte. This was going to be like pulling teeth.

“Well it seems like they put the Bake Sale table in good hands, then.”

“What about you?” At least he understood reciprocity.

“Publishing.” Yeah, you weren’t any better than him. You stumbled to add on more information, “Uh, I’m a copy editor.”

“Is that like a proof reader?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

And at that moment, your blessed first customers walked up to your booth, a group of high school students, and you leapt at the opportunity to get out of that awkward conversation.

When your hour shift was finally over, you gleefully picked Woobin and his toys up from the playmat, took your two free ride tickets from Mr. Qian, and waved goodbye to him and the new volunteer parent who had shown up to take over your slot.

“Alright, Binnie, the Fall Festival is our oyster,” you looked it over with shining eyes. “What should we do first?”

Two hours later, and you were just finishing up your slightly late lunch. You scrolled through the delightful pictures that you’d taken of you and Woobin on the Ferris Wheel, sending a couple to your parents before tucking your phone away.

“Dessert sounds good, don’t you think?” You suggested to Woobin, and the Bake Sale popped into your mind. Those desserts that Mr. Qian made had looked really good, and you weren’t able to try any when you were working the table this morning…

“Please, Mommy?”

“You didn’t even need to ask, bubbles, Mommy wants some dessert too,” you admitted, taking his hand in yours. “I think we should go get some of those sweets that Junyi’s dad made. How does that sound? Did you see them earlier?”

There was a short line that you bumped up against at the Bake Sale table, just a couple families ahead of you. When you finally got to the front, your greeting to Mr. Qian stopped in your throat as you took in the empty spot beside him.

“Are you all by yourself, Mr. Qian?” You craned your neck to look around for signs of another parent.

He let out a tired sigh very clearly from deep within, eyes conveying a harrowed, ominous kind of exhaustion, “It seems as though the parent who signed up for the last four slots has skipped out on me. Been by myself for the past thirty minutes or so. I gave up on him about fifteen minutes ago.”

With a resolute nod, you hoisted your son up onto your hip and slid around to the other side of the table to stand beside Mr. Qian, “Binnie and I will finish the day out with you two then.”

“No, Ms. Y/L/N, you really don’t have to. I’m sure you have things to do, and I can run a preschool Bake Sale by myself.”

“Junyi! Come play with Woobin over here please!” You called after the little boy that you’d spotted toddling a little too far away from the playmat for comfort.

The man whipped around as his son came waddling back over at the sound of his name, clearly unaware that he had just wandered off. He squatted down to chastise the boy, reminding him to stay on the blanket. Junyi nodded, plopping down with his toys.

“I’m not leaving you out to dry, Kun,” you told the father frankly, sitting Woobin and his toys back down on the playmat too.

He gave you a frazzled smile, “Thanks, Y/N.”

Another couple hours passed by of you and Kun jointly running the Bake Sale table. Word had apparently spread since the first hour that you’d done with him in the morning, and the treats were extremely popular. Your line was never empty for more than a minute or two, and often times wrapped past other booths. Now you could see why Kun was so out of it when you had gotten there, he had been doing this by himself, even for just thirty minutes, with Junyi there.

The two of you fell into a symbiotic rhythm of taking orders, payment, handing out food, and keeping an eye on the two boys with you.

In a rare, brief lull between customers, you were caught off-guard when it was also quiet behind you. The telltale giggles, babbling, and nonsense conversation of Woobin and Junyi had faded out. You frowned thoughtfully as you finished rearranging the brownies in front of you, about to turn around to investigate anyway when a heart-wrenching wail pierced the still air. Immediately, you went to jerk around to comfort your crying Woobin, but were stopped in your tracks, so caught off-guard to see that it wasn’t your son sobbing. He was standing in front of Junyi, who was sat on the playmat, half-crying and half-screaming his head off.

Kun couldn’t get the cash in his hand into the register fast enough, and you rushed over to try to get Woobin to at least back up. Crowding Junyi definitely wasn’t going to help.

But you stopped as you realized that Woobin was talking to the other boy.

“Junyi, scary or boo-boo?” Woobin quietly asked him. After he didn’t get a reply, he asked again, “Scary or boo-boo?”

Junyi managed to blubber out, “Scary!”

Kun had finally arrived on the playmat while you watched on with wide, bewildered, and awestruck eyes as Woobin gave Junyi a big hug. The dad looked even more confused than you.

“What’s going on?”

You held up a finger for him to wait a moment, then turned to your son, “Binnie, do you know what happened to Junyi? Why is he having a scary cry?”

“Junyi fell down, Mommy,” he answered you dutifully.

“Okay, thank you,” you nodded to him. Looking at Kun, you explained, “Seems like Junyi just fell down. I don’t think he’s hurt, it just gave him a scare.”

“Daddy!” Junyi whimpered, and Kun gently extracted him from the other toddler’s arms to bring him into his own. Cradling his son, Kun murmured soft reassurances to him as the boy clung to his neck.

“Uh, thank you, Woobin,” he nodded to your son. “I’ve got Junyi from here.”

“You’re welcome,” Woobin replied, but you could see the moistness gathering in his eyes too. Oh, your big-hearted kid.

Both you and Kun brought your respective kids back to the table with you, sitting in the pop-up chairs with them in your laps. The two of you were quiet until Junyi’s sobs had simmered down into little hiccups, and you could feel that Woobin’s breathing had evened out into a nap.

“Okay, how did you do that?” Kun whispered at you.

“Do what?” You replied just as quietly.

“Get Woobin to do what he just did.”

“By asking him the exact same question pretty much every single time he’s cried for the past three years,” you answered honestly. “And he didn’t use to even answer me, much less ask other people that. That’s the first time he’s ever done that, actually.”

“Huh…”

Mr. Suh and Mr. Jeong came back an hour and a half later to help break down the table. It had been a pretty successful endeavor, if you did say so yourself, as there were only a handful of treats left, which you and Kun offered to a group of high schoolers who came by after break-down.

With everything packed up except the cash drawer, Kun turned to you with finality, “I’ve just got to drop this off with the front office and that’ll be it. Thanks, Y/N. You and Woobin were a big help today.”

“Of course. Sorry about that parent who skipped out on you. Who was it, anyway?”

“A… Mr. Nakamoto?” Kun read off the paper. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“I think I’ve chatted with him in the lobby a couple times. His son’s in the two-year-old class if I remember correctly?” You strained your memory, then gave up. “Oh, whatever. Maybe he just had an emergency or something.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

“Anyway, have a goodnight, Kun, Junyi,” you nodded to the two of them, then squeezed your son’s hand. “Binnie, we’re leaving, do you want to say something to Junyi and Mr. Qian?”

Your son perked up, giving the two of them a bright smile and big wave, “Goodbye!”

“Junyi?” Kun prompted his son from where he was tucked into the father’s chest. “Tell Ms. Y/L/N and Woobin goodbye, you won’t see Woobin until Monday.”

“Bye, Woobin. Bye… Ms. Y/L/N.” Junyi said in between yawns, rubbing at his eyes. Poor guy seemed absolutely tuckered out.

“Goodnight,” Kun gave you one last nod before heading towards the school, and you and Woobin took off towards your car.

Monday morning you released Woobin’s hand to let him scamper into his classroom, giving Ms. Xu a wave of acknowledgement as you signed the morning drop-off sheet by the door. You were about to take off for work when a hand grabbed your elbow, and you hadn’t even realized that Ms. Xu had approached you, all too focused on heading to work.

“Ms. Y/N!”

“Ah, Ms. Xu, good morning,” you greeted her. “Is something the matter?”

“No, I just wanted to thank you for pitching in with the Bake Sale on Saturday. Mr. Qian informed us that he wouldn’t have been able to pull it off without your help.”

You looked around for Kun. You were only able to spot Junyi, however, coloring with Woobin at a table. Seems like he’d already come and gone. Great, now you had a reputation for being a helpful mom.

You shook off both her hand and her praise, “Oh, really Mr. Qian is exaggerating. He works in sales, did you know? Honestly didn’t need my help.”

“Well, whatever you two did, it was our most successful Bake Sale—well, any kind of fundraising event—for the preschool ever! And, we were wondering if the two of you would consider getting more involved in some parent leadership positions at the school? The preschool PTA have been trying to get a fundraising committee off the ground, and we really think that you two would do a fantastic job spearheading—”

You must have had some kind of look on your face, as Ms. Xu suddenly stopped dead in the middle of her sentence, entirely switching trains of thought. Keeping her same peppy tone and bright, hopeful smile, she said, “I am so sorry to have thrown so much at you. You must have to be getting to work. Why don’t we talk about it later when you come pick Woobin up? All of us, Mr. Qian, too. Goodbye, Ms. Y/N!”

And with that you were ushered out of the door, utterly dumbfounded at what had just happened.

That afternoon, you squared your shoulders and steeled your nerves as you approached the preschool doors. You had to keep your resolution firm: you were absolutely not going to be joining any sort of PTA, fundraising committee, or parent leadership position. The only thing that you were going to be spearheading was cracking open the bottle of wine that was waiting for you at your apartment tonight.

You were a little earlier than you usually were for pick-up, which you had done on purpose, needing to clear the air with a certain Mr. Qian Kun. Immediately homing in on the man, you made a beeline for him. He noticed you, his friendly hand falling as he seemed to notice the set of your brow.

“Good afternoon, Y—”

“Qian Kun,” you cut him off sternly. “Do you care to tell me why I was voluntold for a position spearheading a fundraising committee this morning?”

“Oh, that. Look, it came as a surprise to me too,” he tried to assuage you.

“Why the hell did my name even come out of your mouth in such a discussion in the first place?”

“Because they were praising me on how well the Bake Sale went, and I was making sure you got the credit that you deserved too. Are you upset about that? If so, I’m sorry? I guess?”

“You listen to the words coming out of my mouth: I will be a PTA mom over your dead body,” you hissed, scooching in to take the spot on the bench beside him and free up more standing space for the parents coming in.

“Okay, let’s take a step back from the threats, maybe, Y/N,” Kun suggested, holding his hands up in both a defensive and ‘are you kidding me?’ gesture. “What’s so awful about being a PTA parent in the first place?”

“Free labor for so little reward, and I don’t have the time for that. Do you?”

“We haven’t even heard their proposal; we don’t know what they’d be wanting us to do.”

“‘Spearheading a committee’ sounds like a part-time job at least.”

“Alright, well, didn’t Ms. Xu tell you that you and I held the most successful fundraising event the preschool’s ever had? And that wasn’t even with us making a concerted effort, either, that was just some random mid-grade effort Bake Sale. Imagine what we could do if we really go for it.”

“You work in sales, huh?” You deadpanned after his little pitch was finished. The one-year-old class opened for dismissal, and you leaned in towards him to continue your fervent conversation in a more hushed voice, “And can’t even realize when you’re the one being sold to! You do know that this campus has a bunch of filthy rich donors, right? They’re not hard pressed for cash, they just give the high school priority, then the middle school, primary, and the preschool gets the leftovers—if there’s even any—forcing it to have to fundraise for itself.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason to do this, then?” Kun pushed back.

“We could do a hundred Bake Sales and it wouldn’t make up the difference between the scraps the preschool gets and the millions that the high school does. No, it would be all the more reason for us to go find our own filthy rich donor who would put a stipulation on their donation for it to be used exclusively for the preschool.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve got to think bigger about this, Kun,” you knocked on his forehead with two of your knuckles as best you could in the narrow space between the two of you. “God. You said you work in sales, what do you even do?”

He rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly, red tinging the tips of his ears, “Would you believe me if I said I’m a Director of Sales?”

“No,” you snorted.

“That’s fair.”

“So anyway, glad we’re on the same page about saying no to this.” You went to lean away from him and put some pep back into your tone, watching as the two-year-old class was dismissed next.

“What? I—” he looked around, it was only the three-year-old parents left in the lobby now. You sighed, scooting back over to sit shoulder-to-shoulder again for him to be able to continue in a hushed voice, “I thought we were going to find a donor for the preschool.”

“You want us to go in there, and say yes to leading the preschool PTA’s fundraising committee on the condition that its sole mission is to stage a coup within the financial hierarchy of the campus?”

“Okay well when you say it like that—”

“I’m in.” You grinned at him. “As long as you were being serious about the Director of Sales thing.”

“I was,” he fished out a business card from his wallet to hand to you.

Qian Kun, Director of Sales, WeiShen, Inc.

And below that was his email, office phone line, and fax number. You gave it back to him.

“Perfect. Those connections will come in handy.”

The door to the three-year-old classroom swung open just then, and you got to your feet.

“Alright, Mr. Qian, ready to go start the cutest coup the world has ever seen?” You offered your hand to him.

He stood up alongside you, giving your hand a firm shake, “Yes, absolutely, Ms. Y/L/N. They’ll never know what hit them.”

While Mrs. Chen and Ms. Xu were definitely caught off-guard by your idea, after getting over their initial shock, they were surprisingly on-board with it. They requested that you two bring in a more formal proposal to the next preschool PTA meeting— next Wednesday. That gave you nine days.

“So how did you know all that, about the donors and distribution structure of the funds?” Kun asked as you walked out into the empty preschool lobby.

“I did my research before picking a preschool for Woobin. It’s all there on the Internet if you dig deep enough, and are somewhat adept at reading through the legal bull—” You cut yourself off, looking down at the two toddlers with you. Kun pushed the front door open for you, and you quietly thanked him as you led Woobin through it before resuming your train of thought, “It’s obviously not in any of the advertising stuff for prospective parents, but for prospective donors, investors; the corporate materials.”

The four of you stopped in front of the building, where the small parking lot was.

“So then why did you enroll him here, even knowing about how they treat the preschool with the donations?”

“The high school is the best in the area, and the easiest way to guarantee admission is to graduate in from their middle school. Easiest way to get into the middle school is to graduate in from the primary school.”

“And the easiest way into the primary school is through the preschool,” the dad surmised.

“Bingo. I’m keeping Binnie’s options open,” you squeezed your son’s hand affectionately. “He doesn’t have to go there, but I’m making sure he can if he wants.”

Kun’s eyebrows shot up, “Wow. That’s some really forward thinking.”

You tilted your head curiously, “So why’d you choose to send Junyi here?”

“It was the closest to my place.”

“Practical, that’s more than fair.”

“Speaking of, Junyi and I should get going, we have to pick up a couple things from the store for dinner tonight and buddy already looks like he’s not going to last the two block walk there.” He looked down at his son, who was very quiet, glassy eyes fixed on his feet.

You nodded in understanding, “Of course, Binnie and I have a wine night planned.”

“I’m sorry, a what?”

“Oh, Binnie gets grape juice and I have red wine in matching cups. He likes to feel included.”

“Does he get a matching kiddie charcuterie board too?” Kun chuckled to himself as he hoisted Junyi up onto his hip.

“No, he just takes what he wants off of mine.”

He gave you a blank stare, “I can’t tell if you’re pulling my leg or not.”

“Look, he insists on trying whatever I have, and he ends up liking a lot of it,” you shrugged. “He’s the only 3-year-old I know who asks for tapenade as a snack.”

“You’re being serious?” He checked again.

“Yes,” you laughed. Then, before you knew it, the next words coming out of your mouth were, “You know, you and Junyi should join Binnie and I for a charcuterie night. I’ll prepare actual kid-friendly stuff, too, for Junyi.”

Kun’s head jerked back just the slightest, and he blinked a couple times before asking, “Uh, just you and Woobin?”

“Yeah, is— Would that, uh, be a problem?” The offer had felt perfectly normal and natural for you to make in the moment, but his reaction was making you second guess and stammer. You rushed to tack on, “We can— It’ll be for the fundraising committee, you know.”

“Right, right, of course.” His voice was filled with shaky relief.

“Of course,” you echoed, offering a strained smile.

“As long as that’s not a problem for—for you.”

“Why would it be a problem for me? I invited you.”

“I don’t— That sounds great, thank you, Y/N.”

Desperately wanting to get out of the plane crash that you had inadvertently taken this conversation into, you readjusted your purse on your shoulder decidedly, “Of course. Uhm, well, we won’t hold you two up from the store anymore, it looks like Junyi’s about to fall asleep on you right now. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kun looked down at Junyi’s head that had been resting against his chest, the boy’s eyes beginning to flutter shut, “Oh, God, there he goes. Bye, Y/N, Woobin!”

And the man was around the corner before Woobin could even lift his little hand to wave.

“So what’s the big deal, Y/N?”

“Well because I feel stupid now, Sooyoung,” you ranted to your friend over the phone that night as you washed up the dishes from dinner. “It felt like I was maybe finally getting my first like, parent friend, you know? And then he got all weird as soon as I invited him to hang out. I wasn’t being weird, was I? It was practically a playdate invite!”

Woobin had been put to bed a few minutes ago, and you were recounting the horrible nosedive that your conversation with Kun had taken, needing to know that you weren’t crazy.

“Y/N…” Sooyoung’s voice was patient as it came through your speakers. “Now, I can only guess, because I am, as we know, not a parent friend. But… is he married?”

 “Huh?” The plate in your hand nearly slipped out of your soapy grip.

“Wedding ring, seen one?”

You wracked your brain, trying to remember if you’d ever really looked at Kun’s hands that closely, “Uh, not that I can remember?”

“Okay. You ever met the mom?”

“No, it’s always Kun who picks Junyi up.”

“Has a mom or another parent or partner ever been mentioned at all?”

“Sooyoung, the point,” you requested sternly, having a sneaking suspicion as to what it was.

“I’m just saying, maybe he got all weird because he thought you were flirting.”

“Oh my God,” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair before realizing that it was still soapy. “God damn it!”

“Y/N?”

You grabbed some paper towels to clean the suds off your head, “Yeah, still here, sorry.”

“Anyway… is he cute?”

“SooSoo, I don’t even think I could flirt on purpose at this point,” you chuckled cynically, going back to your chore. “That muscle’s long shriveled up. I just need to time skip to being married with two kids, I think.”

Your friend laughed along with you, “Fair. But, that doesn’t sound like a no. Kinda sounds like avoiding the question, actually.”

“Sooyoung.”

“Ooh, you gonna send me to my room?” She taunted you, and you could hear her pout through the phone. “Put me in time out?”

“You’d like that, you little freak,” you snickered, picking up your next dish.

That Saturday afternoon you and Woobin had welcomed Kun and Junyi into your apartment with giddy nerves. Woobin was excited, and you were excited for him. This would be pretty much his first playdate with a kid that he wasn’t related to. And you had all the nerves, as this was your first time having a parent friend over, too. Not to mention that Sooyoung’s words were still bouncing around in the back of your head. When Kun held out a bottle of red wine to you with his left hand, you looked extra hard at his fingers— yep, no ring.

“Oh, Kun, you didn’t have to,” you took it from him gladly, ushering the two of them further into your home.

“You’re hosting and making us a charcuterie board. I figured wine was appropriate,” he explained.

“Well, thank you. This is perfect.”

Woobin was right where you’d left him in the living room on his playmat among his toys.

“Binnie,” you said, waiting until he looked up at you before continuing, “Mr. Qian and Junyi are here, so we’re going to eat now, remember?”

He nodded, immediately standing up and beginning to shovel toys off to one side of his mat. You helped him slide the mat to the corner of the room.

“Uh, we’re just going to eat around the coffee table, if that’s alright,” you explained, gesturing to the cleared table in the middle of the living room.

“Yeah, of course,” Kun nodded.

“Great, great. Dining table kind of has a partially built LEGO set on it right now,” you chuckled as you set the wine bottle down. “I’m going to grab everything from the kitchen, be back in a second.”

“Oh, I’ll help.”

“No, that’s okay, I’ve already got a little helper,” you held a hand out expectantly towards your son. Woobin immediately grabbed your hand, looking up at you. You gave Kun a quick smile, “Be back in a sec.”

In the kitchen, you handed Woobin his spill-proof cup, then another for Junyi. You fit two wine glasses by the stems and a corkscrew in one hand, and grabbed the charcuterie board with the other. Gently nudging your toddler ahead of you, the two of you headed back out to the living room, where your guests were waiting.

Kun and Junyi had sat down on one side of the table, and you gently placed the food down in front of them, then one wine glass in front of Kun. You looked to your son, who handed the correct cup to Junyi.

“It’s just water,” you informed the dad. “We have juice too, if he can have it. I never know about allergies and the like so I didn’t want to assume.”

“Juice?” Woobin looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Yours is already grape juice, Binnie,” you informed him with a head pat.

Kun rubbed his son’s back, “Water’s fine for him, he had a juice box this morning. Thanks.”

You and Woobin sat opposite from the father and son, Woobin immediately clambering into your lap. As you went to uncork the wine, Kun looked over the board in front of you all. You had made sure to prepare some kid-friendly options in one corner in addition to your usual refined spread.

“This all looks fantastic, Y/N. Thank you, seriously,” Kun smiled, and you swore that was the first time you’d noticed a deep dimple appear on both of his cheeks.

You poured first for him, then yourself, “Of course. Thank you two for coming over, Woobin and I were both excited to host for someone. Right, Binnie?”

“What, Mommy?” Woobin looked up at you with a scrunched nose.

“‘Host.’” You repeated the unfamiliar word for him, then clarified your question, “Are you excited to have Junyi and Mr. Qian over?”

“Oh! Yes!” He nodded his head so fast you could feel the rest of his little body shake in your lap. “Can I show Junyi my room, Mommy?”

“After you two eat some, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Did you hear that, Junyi? After you eat, you and Woobin can play.” Kun gently prodded his son, then looked up at you apologetically when all the child did was yawn. “Sorry, he just woke up from a nap before coming over.”

“That’s okay,” you giggled, cutting off a piece of cheese and pressing it onto a cracker, then making another serving of the same cheese and cracker. You handed one to Woobin, keeping the other for yourself.

Woobin eagerly took a bite of the cheese and cracker you’d given him, washing it down with his grape juice.

Kun offered a bear-shaped cookie out to Junyi, who shook his head. The dad sighed, and pointed at a banana slice, then blueberry, then cheddar cheese slice that you’d cut into small star shapes. They all got head shakes.

“Are you hungry at all, buddy?”

“Yes!”

“Then what do you want? Ms. Y/L/N made sure to put out all that food just for you. I don’t think you want what Daddy is eating, buddy. It’s grown-up food.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, unsure of if you should speak up. It seemed like they both needed help, but you weren’t one to try to interject your own parenting if it wasn’t asked for.

Junyi squirmed in his dad’s arms for a moment before mumbling, “But Woobin’s eating it…”

Meanwhile Woobin had in fact helped himself to a kalamata olive, pre-pitted, happily munching away.

Kun seemed at a loss, rubbing at his brow, and you finally decided to jump in.

“Junyi, you can try some, too,” you told him encouragingly, leaning forward and reaching over the board. “Do you want to try the cheese Woobin was eating or the olive he just had? Or both?”

“Cheese, please.”

You cut off a small piece of the gouda, “Here you go.”

He took it in his small hands, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

You watched in amusement as Junyi ate the cheese, his features lighting up.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes! Can I try the olive?”

“Hey…” Kun’s voice held a slight warning as he pinched his son’s side.

“Can I try the olive please?”

“Thank you.” The dad patted the boy’s head before reaching around him for the glass of wine on the table.

You handed him an olive, both you and Kun watching with interest as he popped it into his mouth whole. Junyi’s face immediately screwed up in disgust. Without missing a beat, Kun held up a cupped palm with another short sigh, letting his son spit the food back out. Trying to hold back your giggles, you handed the dad a napkin.

“Thanks,” he accepted it, depositing the olive into the paper, and wiping his hand off.

After some more broadening of Junyi’s horizons—to mixed results—the board was mostly clear, and the kids had declared themselves full.

“Can I show Junyi my room now?” Woobin asked excitedly.

“Sure, Binnie. You two can go play,” you nodded, and he immediately scrambled off your lap. You held out a hand for him to use to balance himself as you kept talking, “Mr. Qian and I have some work to do, so we’ll be in here if you need us, okay?”

“Okay!” Both toddlers said in unison.

“Hey, look here,” Kun stopped his son before he could leave the room. The father waited until the boy was looking him in the eye before continuing, “Remember what we talked about before coming over? All week?”

Junyi nodded fervently.

“Good. Go have fun, buddy,” he ruffled his son's hair.

You watched the two of them speedwalk out excitedly, Woobin explaining the house rule of not being allowed to run because it’s not safe as they went.

Then it was just you and Kun. Sooyoung’s words echoed in the back of your mind.

“Alright, let me grab my laptop, then we can get to work,” you declared, getting to your feet.

A few hours later and the two of you had made good progress, only interrupted by the kids a few times here and there, mostly them wanting to show off toys or coloring pages, or Junyi had wandered in at one point seemingly just to make sure Kun was still there.

You had been adding something to your word document of notes when you realized that your house had been eerily quiet for too long. Fingertips hovering over the keys, you exchanged a suspicious look with Kun.

“Too quiet?” He asked knowingly.

“Yeah…” You frowned, setting your computer aside to get up.

Both of you treaded through your home until you got to Woobin’s bedroom. The door was open, and you were alarmed for a moment when you didn’t see either boy anywhere on the floor playing. Until you recognized two lumps under the covers of his toddler bed, Woobin and Junyi looking like they were going to sleep for the next hundred years or so.

“Oh, god, I am so sorry,” Kun shook his head, seeming about to go in there and grab his son.

You were between him and the room, however, and quickly turned the lights off and shut the door. “It’s okay, Kun. They just tuckered themselves out. That’s good.”

Latching onto his elbow, you pulled him back towards the living room, catching a glance at the time on the microwave as you went through the kitchen.

“Damn, it’s not even Binnie’s normal bedtime yet,” you chuckled.

You didn’t let go of Kun until you had pulled him back down onto the couch, and then held his (second) glass of wine back out to him pointedly. He had a fond smile as he took it from you, and you happily accepted your victory as you picked yours back up too. You left your laptop on the coffee table, shifting to entirely face Kun as you raised your glass to your lips.

Kun took a sip.

You took a sip.

“Do you want to ask me something, Y/N?” Kun scratched the back of his neck.

“Mm, sorry,” you apologized with a chuckle. “I zoned out on your face there, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, a bit,” he laughed.

“I was thinking, though.”

“What about?”

“You’re a Director of Sales…”

“Supposedly.”

“Supposedly,” you repeatedly humorously before moving on with your question. “Do you think we’ve got a good chance at getting a donor for the preschool? If our proposal is approved by the PTA on Wednesday, of course.”

You had expected some kind of business musings, or serious answer from Kun, but instead you watched with concern as his brow furrowed, his fingers drummed along his knee, and he suddenly became fidgety, shifting around in his seat. He stayed quiet, once again scratching at the back of his neck, squinting one eye closed, then the other.

“Kun?” You said his name hesitantly.

“Sorry,” he shot you a familiar, frazzled smile that reminded you of when he was getting overwhelmed at the Bake Sale booth by himself. “I uhm, I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” you reassured him. “I was just curious, it’s not life or death that you know everything all the time.”

He didn’t even seem to hear you as he stood up, setting his wine glass down on the table. The dad began pacing back and forth in front of your couch, his hands laced together behind his neck.

“I’m good at my job.”

You would’ve sworn he wasn’t talking to you, except his wide, stressed eyes snapped up to you after he said that.

“I’m not your boss. You don’t need to convince me, Kun,” you said slowly.

“I know, just— with all this, it’s stuff that I should be good at, it’s right up my alley. But it’s for Junyi, and I want to be the best dad I can be for him that I just end up jumping into doing things without actually thinking about them first because other people are telling me that’s what I need to do to be a good dad. I know how to be a good Director of Sales. I don’t know how to be a good dad.”

“You don’t need to know everything,” you reiterated strongly, hoping he actually listened this time. “I don’t know all the secrets for being a good mom. I just know how to be Woobin’s mom. You don’t need to know all the secrets to being the best dad ever. The only thing you need to worry about is being Junyi’s dad. Does that seem a bit more manageable?”

Kun’s pacing slowed to a stop in front of you, “Well, I guess.”

“So, the next time somebody is trying to sell you on some ‘Dad Thing,’ stop, breathe, and think: Is this what I, Qian Kun, as Junyi’s dad, need to do, to be?”

“Okay…” he looked at you skeptically, closing his eyes for a moment. You watched as his shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.

“…Are you doing it right now?”

“Well how else am I supposed to decide if this is a good thing to do or not?”

You let out a hearty laugh, “No, that’s perfect, Kun, go ahead.”

He closed his eyes again, and you watched with fond amusement as his eyebrows quirked up and down with his thoughts. You took another sip of your wine before he had finished, and he opened his eyes once more, giving you a firm nod, “Okay, yes, I think that’s a thing that Junyi would need me to do.”

“Great,” you smiled at him, tilting your wine glass out to him.

He picked his back up and clinked it to yours in a little cheers. You tipped the remainder of your drink back in one go.

“Oh, that was good,” you declared. “Thanks, Kun.”

“Of course, Y/N. Thank you for inviting us.”

“Like I said, Binnie and I were both really excited to host,” you took your empty glass into the kitchen to start cleaning up. “I don’t know if this is bad, but he hasn’t really had a lot of play dates that weren’t like his cousins or something.”

“Junyi neither,” Kun admitted.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” You asked, starting to stack the plates. “Kid, and work, and family, and friends, and everything else. And then you’re supposed to be in charge of your kid’s social life too?”

You’d turned your back on him to bring the plates into the kitchen, expecting to hear his response to your question, but you were just met with silence. After depositing the dishes in the kitchen, you walked back out to the living room, alarmed to see that Kun had taken to pacing again.

Keeping a calm demeanor yourself, you kept going about your task, grabbing the charcuterie board, the last thing that needed to be tidied up. You had just started back towards the kitchen when Kun broke his silence.

“Junyi’s mother left us.”

You were so glad you had your back to Kun so he couldn’t see your rueful wince. Oh, you were so going to regret this.

Relaxing your features into a more sympathetic frown, you turned around to face him, “I’m very sorry to hear that, Kun.”

This was going to be a lot, you could sense it, so you set the charcuterie board back down on your breakfast bar.

“So just know that however hard it is for you and Woobin’s dad, it’s like ten times harder for me, and that’s why I’m always—”

You had stopped listening to him, however, your brain turning to white noise after the phrase ‘Woobin’s dad.’

“Wait, do you think I’m married?” You blurted out over him.

“Well, no, I can see that you don’t have a ring,” Kun gestured down to your hands. “But a boyfriend or another significant other. I’m doing this solo and—”

“I’m a single parent too!”

“What?” He seemed dumbfounded.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to laugh or cry more at how ridiculous this was.

“Woobin’s dad was a one-night stand! I can’t remember the guy’s name, or what he looks like. Couldn’t find him if I wanted to. I don’t have a partner now, either. What on Earth made you think I was anything other than a single mom? You’re in my home!” You gestured around wildly to where there were multiple pictures of your family, of you and Woobin, but none of you, Woobin, and any man that could reasonably be considered his father.

“Well you’re just— you’ve got— at the meeting— you’re so put together,” Kun stammered out, his voice getting smaller and smaller. He ran a hand through his hair, “You’re not falling apart at the seams like I am.”

“Kun.” You grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping his frenzied pacing. “Look me in the eye.”

It wasn’t really like he had a choice, you were now holding his face just a couple inches from yours, but he still followed your command.

“Good,” you praised him, keeping your voice soothing. “I want you to take three deep breaths with me.”

He followed along as you inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, and finally exhaled again together.

“Alright, thank you,” your voice was still sweet and calm as you ran your hands back down to his shoulders. “Now… why the fuck do you think I am more put together than you, Qian Kun?”

“Everything,” he breathed out, hanging his head.

“God, Kun,” you sighed, seizing him by the wrist. “Come on.”

You led him into your dining room, where there was in fact a half-built LEGO set on your dining room table. But that wasn’t your goal. On the bookshelf in there, you grabbed a specific picture frame, and took it and Kun back to the living room.

Sitting down side-by-side with Kun on the couch, you held the picture out in front of the two of you. It was of you and Woobin just over three years ago now, the first night you came home from the hospital. Your mother had taken it. He was swaddled in his baby blue blanket, all chubby cheeks, and you looked dead tired, but an excited sparkle was still in your eyes as you grinned down at your son.

“Look, Kun. I used to feel like that too. All the time. Almost every day when I was pregnant,” you relayed to him.

“But not anymore?” He questioned hesitantly.

“Sometimes. But not like before. Because I realized that I’m not doing this by myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I may be a single mom, but I’m not alone, I have Binnie. And isn’t that the whole point? To be there for them? To make sure they know they’re not doing it alone either?”

Kun was quiet, his eyes still focused on the picture.

You continued, “I’m lucky enough to have my parents as a good support system, and some friends I can call up in case of emergency too. But I remember when I found out I was going to have Woobin, and I decided to keep him, I was scared of doing it by myself. Terrified, might be a better word.”

“When I came home from the hospital with him, my mom stayed with us for the first couple weeks.” You tapped the frame. “And the first night after she left, when it really was just the two of us, I was expecting this overwhelming sense of loneliness, and instead I just felt… full. I know I had all those birthing hormones in me, oxytocin and whatnot, but I looked down at him and I realized I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t ever going to be in all this because I have Binnie.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that,” Kun finally spoke again.

Thinking about your cousin’s approach to parenting, you guessed, “You’ve always thought about him as the adversary?”

“Not exactly. Junyi’s more like a tiny roommate that I have to dress and feed and keep from accidentally dying.”

“I’d love to see pizza and beer night at your place.” You joked, laughing when you managed to get a small smile out of Kun again. “Does Junyi get his in a sippy?”

“You jest, but I have poured myself two fingers of whiskey into a Winnie the Pooh sippy cup before because it was the only clean drinking vessel we had.” He rubbed at his temples, then clarified, “With the lid off.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” You patted his back, reaching across him to set the frame down on the side table by another one that was displayed there.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Kun’s eyes followed you as you sat back down, suddenly much closer than you remembered being before. Or were you just more aware of your proximity?

He patted your knee. “Seriously, that made me feel a lot better.”

“Of—” You cleared your throat to get rid of the squeak that was now in your voice. “Of course.”

Your skin tingled. Holy shit, you’d only had two glasses of wine spread across several hours, there was no way you should even be remotely buzzed. Kun was still looking at you. Were his eyes always this dark, this inviting?

God, he really was handsome. You’d always known that, thought that, since the moment you saw him in the lobby of the preschool. But something about now, having him in your home, so close, alone, you felt like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He wet his lips seemingly instinctually, and for a moment your brain short-circuited.

“Daddy?” A small voice made both you and Kun jump in your seats. You bit your tongue in surprise, hissing in pain as you and the dad simultaneously scooted away from each other. Junyi was standing at the threshold of the living room, rubbing one of his eyes sleepily.

“Hey, buddy.” Kun waved his son over with a smile. “Is everything okay?”

Junyi walked over, stopping in front of his dad, a small pout on his face. “I woke up and didn’t see you...”

“Oh, buddy,” Kun rubbed the toddler’s back. “Sounds like it’s about time for us to go home, huh?”

You smiled at the both of them, hoping they couldn’t see how frazzled you felt through it. “Of course, it’s late. I think we’re uh, we’re all tired. Junyi, is Woobin awake?”

The boy shook his head no.

“Okay, thank you.” You stood up, grabbing the wine glasses as Kun picked his son up.

You sent them off with a quick goodbye at your front door, and let out a deep sigh of relief once you’d closed it behind them. There weren’t many dishes to take care of in the kitchen, but you still took your time scrubbing at them, then tiptoed down the hall to check in on your son. He was in fact sound asleep, and you quietly went to retire in your own room for the night.

Except once you were in your own bed, sleep didn’t find you easy. You still saw Kun whether your eyes were open or closed, and you could feel the ghost of his warm hand on your skin. You rolled over into the center of the empty expanse of your bed, burying your face in your pillow, and let out a groan. You so needed to get laid. That’s all this was, you had set aside your own needs for your family’s and as soon as you saw one attractive guy, you couldn’t function. There were more important things to focus on with Kun, like the fundraising.

And so you went to sleep with thoughts of spreadsheets, Kun’s dark eyes, numbers, Kun’s warm hands on you, fundraising pitches, and Qian Kun running through your mind.

The fundraising pitch was a hit. Yours and Kun’s PTA committee was approved at the very same meeting, and you two were made co-directors effective immediately.

Afterwards, you, Kun, Woobin, and Junyi all walked out together, and while Kun seemed to be basking in the exhilaration of success, you were shell-shocked with a harrowing realization.

“Y/N?” Kun gently touched your arm, voice tinged with concern.

You looked up at him, horrified. “I’m a PTA mom now, aren’t I?”

He seemed to be holding back his laughter as he patted your shoulder. “I think you are. My condolences. Please don’t kill me.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can dispose of my co-director so easily now.”

He was grinning at you. “Ah, didn’t realize that title came with such high protections.”

You rolled your eyes, but found your mood lifting anyway. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, you mentioned that you had something exciting, but only if we got approval?”

“Right!” Kun let go of Junyi’s hand to reach into the interior pocket of his suit jacket. He retrieved a crisp cream envelope, about the size of his hand. His name was embossed on the front of it in gold lettering.

You looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “You got a wedding invite?”

“Close.” He opened the envelope, holding out the contents to you. You set Woobin down, murmuring a quiet request for him to stay by you all so you could take the card in both your hands. The front of the card had an unfamiliar crest on it, and you opened it to read the inside.

‘The United Publishing Society is honored to invite Mr. Qian Kun and a guest to their 89th Annual Benefactor Gala’

And below that was the date, time, location, and dress code. Black tie formal.

“A fancy networking event?” You questioned, handing it back to him.

“No,” he shook his head very seriously. “These are all the old industry bigwigs who want to get together without all that schmoozy networking and ladder-climbing stuff going on. You and I are probably going to be the youngest ones there by a couple decades.”

“Wait you and me?”

“Yep. ‘Mr. Qian Kun and a guest.’” He recited off the invite. “You’re my guest.”

“Uhm...”

“I happen to know that one of the guys attending is also on the board of a non-profit that donates exclusively to children’s causes. Building pediatric cancer centers, juvenile intervention centers, the whole nine. I think he’ll be our best bet for a donor.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “But you just said they want to get together without networking and all that kind of stuff. Why would we be any different?”

“It’s a charity gala, they’re already there to write checks anyway. We’re not going to be asking him for a job.”

It’s not you were exactly overflowing with any options. “When was that again?”

“What do we think?” You did a spin for your small audience of Woobin and Sooyoung. “Good enough for black tie formal?”

Tonight was the night of the gala Kun was taking you along to, and you sort of felt like you were going to throw up. And pass out. In that order. First of all, you had never been to a gala, you couldn’t remember if you had ever gone to something with a black tie formal dress code (you literally had to go out and buy this outfit), not to mention that you felt awful for having to ask your friend to babysit. But unfortunately your parents were out of town and all of your normal babysitters were busy. Sooyoung had already let you (jokingly) know that this was under duress, and that you owed her—despite turning down the money you offered her.

Sooyoung wolf-whistled at you, and you gave her a pointed look. Not the example you wanted to set for your son. Woobin looked up from his toys at the sound, and clapped for you.

“You look great, Y/N!” Your friend reassured you, and you were thankful that she reigned her mouth in around your kid. Typically, you would’ve gotten a much more explicit compliment from her. “Should be good for black tie. I mean, it’s not like you have any other option, right?”

“Right...” You groaned, turning back towards your room. “Hold on, let me put the shoes on so you can see those.”

You were sitting on your bed pulling your shoes on when you heard your doorbell ring. Your stomach dropped as you looked over at the time on your bedside clock. Shit, Kun was early. You should’ve anticipated that from the last time he was here.

“Soo! Can you get the door? I’m still putting my shoes on!” You yelled out through the apartment.

“Yep!” She called back.

You could vaguely hear the muffled voices of Sooyoung and Kun—and even Woobin at one point—but you were too focused on tugging your goddamn shoes on to care much about what they were saying. Just as you were finally standing up and straightening out your outfit, Sooyoung speedwalked into your bedroom, Woobin in her arms.

She had a smile filled with devilish delight on her face as she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to you, “That is Kun?”

“Huh? Yeah? Unless you let some strange man into my home that I don’t know,” you replied, bewildered. “Should I have asked you to ID him?”

“I take back everything I said, you stay out as long as you want tonight. All night even,” she suggested, gesturing wildly with one hand as the other kept your toddler propped up on her hip. She pinched his cheek fondly. “BinBin and I can have a sleepover, right, buddy?”

Your son’s face lit up with delight at the prospect. “Sleepover?!”

Well aware of what your friend was implying, you did your best to regulate your outer emotions and intonation as you addressed your kid. You kept your tone kind but firm, “No, Binnie, I’m sorry.” Focusing your gaze on your friend, you added pointedly, “Nobody’s having a sleepover tonight.”

“Y/N, come on. You’ve never denied yourself the finer things in life since becoming a mom. Why are you insisting on starting now?” Sooyoung sighed.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a gala to attend. For the fundraising committee I’m on.”

Walking through your apartment, you grabbed your purse from your dining room and finally found Kun in the foyer just a few steps from the front door. He was looking at a photo you had up on the wall, his back to you, so all you could see was his brown hair and dark suit.

“Hi, Kun!” You hoped you didn’t sound out of breath as you entered the room. Judging by the sound of footsteps behind you, Sooyoung had followed you in to see you off for the night.

Kun turned around at his name, hands clasped behind his back. He was dressed rather handsomely for the night in a tux with his hair neatly parted away from his face. But it was the starstruck smile on his face that made your skin warm up as he stopped in his tracks, just looking at you.

“Kun? You good?” You coughed awkwardly, well aware of your spectators.

“Sorry, sorry. Hello, Y/N.” He blinked and shook his head, stepping forward all the way to stand in front of you.

“You’ve already met my friend Sooyoung. She’s watching Woobin tonight for me.” You gestured to the two of them.

“So you two can take as long as you need!” She piped up oh-so-helpfully.

You turned to look at her with wide, pointed eyes.

 “You know, chatting people up for your fundraising, or whatever,” she tacked on innocently.

“Thank you, SooSoo. I’ll see you later.” You pecked your son on the forehead. “Goodnight, Binnie. Remember, Mommy will be back late so Aunt SooSoo is going to put you to bed, and you and me are going to eat breakfast together, okay?”

“But Aunt SooSoo said I was having a sleepover with her?”

“Aunt SooSoo was just joking, baby. I’m sorry, no sleepovers tonight,” you informed him with a heavy heart. Sooyoung set him down, and he toddled off towards the living room. Your friend went to follow him, and you grabbed her elbow to lean in to hiss in her ear, “I hope you’re happy, you owe Binnie a sleepover now.”

“And he’ll get one,” she whispered back. “As soon as you have one of your own.”

You shot her one final glare that she just retaliated with a wink, before letting her go and striding back over to Kun, who was waiting patiently by the front door.

“Everything okay?” He asked, concern on his features.

“Yeah, just making sure she knows Binnie's bedtime and to not give him any more juice.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “All good.”

“Good. You ready, then?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess.”

You so were not ready, it turned out. Just a few minutes after arriving, milling around and taking in the grandeur of the ballroom with Kun, you were starting to feel dizzy. Kun had already seen a couple of people that he must have known, flashing them a charismatic smile and exchanging passing greetings. You, meanwhile, felt like a weight was pressing on your chest, and inhaled deeply through your nose to try to calm down.

“Woah, are you okay, Y/N?” Kun leaned in to ask you quietly.

“Yeah, fine,” you lied through your teeth. “Why?”

“You’ve got a death grip on my arm that you didn’t have thirty seconds ago.” He patted your hand that was on his upper arm.

Looking down, you saw that his suit jacket was crumpled in your fingers, and you consciously tried to loosen your grip, but couldn’t make yourself do it. Instead, you just stared at your locked hand.

“I’m a copy editor, Kun, I don’t really go to galas on the daily, so pardon me for being a little out of my element here,” you retorted, the words cutting through the air much harsher than you had intended. Taking another deep inhale and exhale, you added a whispered, “Sorry, sorry.”

“Come on, let’s get some air, hm?”

The gala had an outdoor area devoid of other guests, presumably due to the chilly nighttime air. Kun sat you down on a stone bench outside of the main courtyard area, out of sight from the large windows of the ballroom.

The pressure on your chest was gone, and with you breathing easier, the cynical, nervous thoughts could finally take center stage in your brain.

“God, this isn’t going to work! Why did we even come out here?” You cracked your knuckles anxiously. “How do we even ask for money without just sounding like children? ‘It’s not fair!’”

“If we find the right donor—and don’t use that tone of voice—that argument is actually going to be what resonates with them,” Kun responded calmly, standing in front of you with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “Someone that cares about the kids, not about investing in an institution or whatever, will be moved by the fact that the preschool is being neglected financially.”

You chewed on the bottom of your lip. “Well damn, when you put it like that, I may just believe that you’re a Director of Sales, Qian Kun.”

“I thought the business card had convinced you.”

“Anybody can order a business card that says whatever they want.”

“That would’ve been extensive planning on my part.”

“Hey, you could’ve had it on hand to pick up women. There’s guys that do that.”

He seemed genuinely put-off and bewildered. “Wait really? That’s… That is just… loser behavior.”

“Though the fax number did point to it being real,” you continued, finally cracking a smile. “Dudes doing pick-up probably think it makes them look dorky.”

“What? People aren’t sexting via fax these days?” Kun joked, a grin tugging at his lips.

You were laughing too hard—and thus trying to quiet down your laughter—to respond to him, giving him the perfect leeway to continue. “What would you even call that? Saxing? Sexing?”

You were dizzy again, but this time it was light-headedness from laughing too hard, quite literally slapping your knee as you tried to calm yourself down.

Kun was chuckling as well, sliding in to sit next to you. “I take offense at the sentiment that fax machines are lame, by the way. I’ll have you know that’s my personal fax line on my business card. Not everyone gets their own.”

Finally having enough wits about you to form sentences again, you sat up straight to look him in the eye as you clarified, “Hey, I was saying that loser dudes who make fake business cards think that fax machines are lame. I think men with fax machines are sexy, especially personal fax lines.”

You went to nudge his shoulder teasingly, caught off-guard as you realized just how close he was to you. Even closer than the night on your couch, his dark eyes settling on your face, unabashedly drinking you in. Your breath hitched in your throat as you were suddenly surrounded by the intoxicating smell of his cologne. The cold air made the hair on your bare arms stand up—or maybe it was something else—and you found yourself pressing forward even closer towards Kun’s warmth.

“Y/N,” he murmured your name quietly. “Are you cold? We can go back inside.”

“No, just…” you took a deep breath, scooting in even closer to him, until you were pressed up side-to-side. “Stay right here? You’re warm.”

He uncertainly wrapped his arm around you. “Sure, sure. Of course.”

“And… Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, yeah.”

“I wasn’t crazy, right? On the couch the other night… Did you want to kiss me, too?”

“You-You wanted to kiss me?”

“I’m uh, a bit rusty at this kind of thing,” you admitted, your skin burning. “But I’m not completely imagining that there’s… something here, right, Kun?”

“You wanted to kiss me?” He repeated like a broken record.

You lightly snapped your fingers in front of his face. “Kun? My question? Or have I officially lost it, and this is like… going to make everything awkward for the fundraising committee?”

“No, no, I-I do—did want to kiss you. I thought I was making you uncomfortable,” he stumbled over his words sheepishly. “I’m uhm… also pretty rusty with this stuff.”

“You do want to kiss me? Or you did want to kiss me, past tense?” You clarified.

“Both! Uhm, I did, that night on the couch, and I still do, now…” He confessed weakly.

“Is there any reason that you shouldn’t? Like, is there somebody…?”

“No, there isn’t. Not at all.” Kun gulped. “What about you?”

“Nope, nobody, and Qian Kun, if you continue to talk about kissing me without actually doing anything, I might actually lose my mind,” you whispered, feeling hot, embarrassed, desperate tears pricking at the edges of your eyes.

“God, sorry.” He cupped your cheek, turning your head and tilting your chin to be able to perfectly slot his lips with yours. The arm that was already wrapped around you just pulled you closer to him, as one of your hands grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket. You let out an embarrassing whimper as soon as his mouth meshed with yours, and he murmured another hushed ‘sorry’ against your lips. If he hadn’t just told you that he was rusty, you wouldn’t have had any idea as your head spun, your heart beat out of your chest wildly like a cartoon, and you were definitely crying tears of relief into what you were seriously considering quite possibly your best kiss ever.

It was your turn to mutter an apology as your tears turned the kiss salty, but as you pulled back to do just that, you saw the glistening of Kun’s eyes in the champagne tinted light filtering out from the ballroom, turning his tears golden as they slipped down his cheeks. Instead, you just pressed your forehead to his in silent understanding, looping your arm around his neck to hold him even closer, if that was possible.

PART II: you got my heartbeat to play to your time

Spotting Kun in the lobby of the preschool, you immediately lit up and rushed to sit down beside him on one of the benches. He offered you a tired smile and peck on the cheek in greeting, scooting to make room for you.

“Brr, it’s fucking freezing out there,” you shuddered, grabbing his hand to press it against the cold tip of your nose. “That’s just from the 30-second walk from the parking lot to here! Are you two going to survive the walk home? You sure you don’t want me to drive you? Well, I don’t have another carseat for Junyi, but he could sit on your lap in the backseat, I think? Better than freezing to death, right?”

“We’ll be okay, Y/N,” Kun reassured you, patting your leg before resting his hand there. “Thank you though, love.”

The subject of the cold suddenly made you remember something else, and you perked up, “Oh, Woobin and I were at the store yesterday and he needed new gloves, and I saw that bun’s were getting a little worn out when we went out last weekend too—”

“Whose?” Kun asked, furrowing his brows.

“Junyi’s. Look.” You held up the pair that matched Woobin’s, save for the pattern, which had little bunnies on them instead of whales. “Aren’t they adorable? God, I just love their tiny hands. I’ll return them if this is weird and I overstepped a line though. I tried to call you to see if this was okay, but the store was just a dead zone, and I couldn’t get a signal.”

A sheepish smile punctuated the end of your nervous rambling. You and Kun hadn’t been dating for very long, just a few months, and you were still getting a feel for boundaries when it came to your relationship with each other and each other’s kids. You’d just started spending the night at each other’s houses with both kids there—already a big step, in your opinion. Taking the initiative on buying Junyi a new pair of gloves had seemed perfectly natural when the thought came to you, but you didn’t want it to feel like you were rushing things to Kun, or taking a place that wasn’t yours to take—and hadn’t been offered to you—in Junyi’s life.

“Oh, no, Y/N, these are perfect, thank you.” He accepted them, a genuine, grateful smile on his face as he tucked them away in his jacket pocket, then squeezed both of your hands. “Junyi will love them. He did need new gloves; I just hadn’t made it out to the store yet.”

“Then what is making you make that face?”

“Since when has Junyi been a bunny?”

“Were you not intentionally buying him a bunch of bunny-patterned stuff?” You questioned, tilting your head.

“Huh?”

“His backpack, his stuffie that he brings to school, his pajamas that he wore at my place last weekend, and I’ve seen him in like at least three different bunny t-shirts. I thought the theming was intentional.”

Kun took a long, slow blink. “Oh… it was not.”

“Kun… are bunnies your favorite animal?” You teased.

“No! I think…?”

“God, long day at work?” You surmised, stroking the back of his head soothingly.

He leaned into your touch, letting out a disgruntled groan, “Long week. Scratch that, long month.”

“Mm, anything I can do to help?”

“Unless you can clone me, or stop time…”

“Okay, new question: Anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Even just something small?”

“Can you and Woobin come over tonight? I know we weren’t planning on it, but—”

“Yes, Kun, we can come over tonight,” you agreed, using your free hand to grab one of his.

“Thank you,” he sighed, squeezing your hand back.

The door to the boys’ classroom opened then, and you nudged Kun’s shoulder with yours. He nodded, the two of you standing up together. As soon as you stepped foot into the classroom, your shins were knocked into by one small body, then another.

“Oh, hey bun! Hey bubbles!” You greeted the kids, wobbling a bit as they had each latched onto one of your legs.

Kun, who had caught you by the elbow to steady you, was looking at the three of you with that same tired but heartfelt smile, “Guys, am I just chopped liver?”

Junyi squinted up at his dad curiously, “What’s liver?”

“Yeah, what’s liver, Mr. Kun?” Woobin echoed.

“He means he wants a hug too, boys,” you explained. “And he’s been working really hard, so I think he should get a really big one.”

They immediately detached themselves from you to throw their little arms around Kun’s legs instead.

“You should ask for one next time, Mr. Kun!”

“Yeah, Daddy! Instead of talkin’ about liver and stuff.”

“Yeah, Mr. Kun, just ask for one next time,” you repeated teasingly.

Kun looked at the two kids with that same fond, resigned smile. “Right, my bad, boys. I will just ask for one when I need one next time.”

As the kids hug-attacked Kun, you went over to their forgotten cubbies to pick up their respective whale and bunny backpacks, giving Ms. Xu and Mrs. Chen friendly waves of acknowledgement. When you returned, Kun had managed to get a kid under each arm, both toddlers giggling as they were held like sacks of potatoes.

“Are you carrying them out like that?” You asked with a tilted head.

“Maybe,” Kun joked. “It’s a good arm workout.”

“Yeah, for all three of you,” you referred to how the boys were clinging onto his forearms against gravity as well.

“Mm, the idea of buff three-year-olds terrifies me,” he declared, lowering the kids. “Alright, time to let go, guys.”

You reached into Junyi’s backpack to secure the little tiny puffer jacket that was inside, “It’s a bit chilly out, bun-bun, and you and your dad are walking home, so come on, you’re putting your coat on.”

“Okay,” he stuck his arms out for you to help put it on him.

“Oh,” Kun pulled the new pair of gloves out of his own pocket, showing them off to his son. “Look, buddy. Ms. Y/N got you a new pair of gloves.”

“Oh wow, thank you!” He beamed up at you.

“You’re welcome,” you grinned back, kneeling down in front of him to zip up the jacket for him. “Woobin has a pair just like it but with whales, so you two can match next time he wears his.”

Woobin looked down at his bare hands with a thoughtful frown. “Where are my gloves, Mommy?”

“They’re probably in your backpack, baby. You and I are driving home so you don’t have to put them on if you don’t want to, because your hands won’t be getting cold outside like Junyi’s.”

“Oh. I want to put them on, please.”

“Here, I’ll get them,” Kun unzipped the backpack that was on your shoulder and began rooting through it.

“Thank you.” You murmured. As he got the gloves and helped Woobin put them on, you went over the plans for the rest of the night with your son, “We’re going to go home and get a few things, and then we’re going to Mr. Kun and Junyi’s house for a sleepover, okay?”

“Okay!”

Kun had finished tugging on the gloves then, “There you go, Bin.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kun!” Woobin chirped, then reached out for the other toddler. “Junyi, we match!”

“We match!” Junyi giggled back, grabbing Woobin's whale-patterned hand with his own bunny-patterned one.

You stood up, covering your mouth in delight as you whispered to Kun, “I’m literally going to cry.”

“Way ahead of you,” he whispered back, and when you looked over, you did in fact see a single tear rolling down one of his cheeks.

“Oh, oh my God, Kun.” You wiped it away with your thumb. “What’s—”

“Talk later?”

“Okay, yeah,” you nodded, looking around at the fact that you were still very much in the boys’ classroom, and had other things to do. “Right, of course. Talk later.”

Kun reached up to grab your hand that had wiped the tear away, squeezing it and offering you a smile. He dried his eyes with the sleeve of his other hand, then called for the kids, “Come on, boys. We’ve got to go. You’ll see each other in just a bit.”

Getting Woobin packed up to spend the night at Kun and Junyi’s was easy, and so was getting the two of them fed once you were there. The difficult part was getting even a single second of semi-private time with Kun to actually talk. The two boys wanted to include both of you in every single thing they did tonight, which was typically endearing, but the exhaustion that plagued Kun’s features the while time still concerned you. It wasn’t until they were finally asleep in Junyi’s room, and you and Kun had cleaned up from dinner, that you finally had an opportunity.

He pulled you over to the couch, and you sat down, expecting one of your normal grown-up, mature, face-to-face talks to happen now. You’d had a few already, about your expectations when you started dating, about the first time you spent the night at the other’s house like this, whenever there was any need to clear the air. Both you and Kun agreed that you were both at the point in your life where you couldn’t deal with the kind of tip-toeing uncertainty of young relationships, you needed something serious, with open, honest communication, especially around the kids.

But instead, Kun practically collapsed on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your middle. You cradled his head close to you, running a hand through his hair and stroking a thumb over his cheekbone.

“What’s wrong, Kun?” You murmured. “You seem… drained.”

“I am,” he admitted plainly, defeat in his tone. “Just absolutely… fucking dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, love,” you replied quietly.

“But you were such a big help today, thank you.”

“I don’t know how bringing another toddler into your home helped with that, but okay,” you said skeptically, still playing with his hair.

“Having a second set of hands to help with dinnertime, and play time, and bathtime, and bedtime…” His chest heaved with another big sigh. “And just having you around… makes everything easier.”

He reached up to grab one of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours. The grip he had made you think he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. “I don’t want you to leave, Y/N.”

“Kun, I’ll stay for as long as you need me to,” you promised. “A couple nights, a week, whatever you need. Life is hard, especially trying to do everything on your own. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so how about you take the boys out and I’ll tidy up around here, okay?”

“Forever?”

“What?”

“Will you stay forever?”

You stared down at your interlocked hands, the one in his hair stilling. “Are you asking…”

“You said you’d stay however long I need you to. I always need you with me, Y/N. Will you two move in with us?” Kun asked, placing a couple of long kisses to your hand. “Or we can get a new place. I just… can’t imagine having to do this without you. Both of you. All four of us.”

You hummed, your hand resuming its ministrations in his locks. “We’ll probably need a new place… but yes, Kun. We’ll move in with you.”

He quickly kissed his way up your arm to your neck and face, until he was hovering above you, a breathless smile on his features. “Really?”

“I’ll need to talk to Binnie…” You warned. “And like I just said, we’ll probably need to look for a new place, since the boys are used to having their own rooms and we can afford it combined. It won’t be instantaneous, but yes… we can start planning it.”

Then Kun was showering your face in kisses, and you giggled, cupping his face fondly.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Kun,” you pulled him into a soft peck, before his raining kisses started going even lower, below your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. When his hand slipped under your shirt, you looked at him suspiciously. “Hey… I thought you were absolutely fucking dead?”

“Mysterious second wind,” his words were muffled against your skin, but you could feel the sly smirk on his lips.

“Alright, well do you think this second wind can at least be moved into your bedroom?”

“Y/N, five weeks?!” Kun exclaimed, making you immediately slap a hand over his mouth and look over your shoulder at the two freshly-washed four-year-old boys sitting down to enjoy their post-bathtime show.

“Keep your voice down!” You chastised him in a harsh whisper. The living room was open to the kitchen in your new place, where you and Kun were huddled having your fervent back and forth at the moment. You’d just so very casually dropped the fact that your period had been five weeks late, at perhaps not the most opportune time, washing the dishes, but really you hadn’t meant for it to be a huge deal.

After you took your hand off his mouth, he replied back much more quietly, “Sorry, I’m not upset with you, love, I’m surprised. Why haven’t you taken a test?”

“With work and both the boys’ birthdays, then them starting VPK, I just haven’t had time to go get one.”

“Let’s go get one now then.”

“What, a family trip to the corner store to buy a pregnancy test?” You snorted at the idea, holding a dry plate out to Kun to put away.

He didn’t take the plate, staring at you as he repeated, “Family?”

“You know what I meant…” You whined, putting the dish down on the counter and covering your face in embarrassment. That was the first time either of you had referred to the four of you as one family unit.

He wrapped his arms around you, letting you bury your face in his chest. “I don’t think you even know what you meant, lovey.”

“Ugh, you’re right.” Your brain was way too scrambled at the moment, preoccupied with trying extremely hard to not think about what being late could possibly mean, what a test could possibly say.

“I’m serious, come on. We’ll buy the boys some ice cream, they’ll be none the wiser.”

“Fine, I need to put some real pants on,” you pushed off his chest, gesturing to the dingy sleep shorts were you in. “Can you—”

“Get the boys’ shoes on. On it.” He nodded firmly.

“Thank you, my love.”

“Kun, I can’t pee with you grinning at me like that. It’s weird.”

With Woobin and Junyi preoccupied with their character popsicles and a movie in the living room, you and Kun were in the small hallway bathroom closest to the living room. It also happened to be the boys’ shared bathroom, the walls covered in vinyl, removable stickers of cartoon characters smiling down at you as unnervingly as Kun was currently. It was far too many eyes for what you were doing, peeing on a drugstore pregnancy test.

“Sorry, sorry,” your boyfriend apologized, diverting his eyes and covering his mouth, though he was clearly still beaming into his hand.

Finally done with that part of the test, you set it atop the box that was sitting on the bathroom counter, washing your hands and dropping back down onto the toilet seat.

“And now we wait,” you declared with a heavy chest.

“Okay.” Kun nodded resolutely, allowing his eyes to return to you now that you’d spoken again, still absolutely glittering in the harsh fluorescents.

“Now would be a good time to talk, about if that’s a plus. You’re still grinning like a maniac, so I have a guess as to what you’re about to say.”

He sighed almost dreamily as he looked up at you, resting his cheek in his hand. “You’re just… the most beautiful woman in the world to me, right now. And I love you, so much.”

“This, me sitting on the toilet in our tiny hallway bathroom, having just peed on a stick in front of you,” you pointed between the two of you, “is one of the least romantic situations I think we’ve ever been in. But, I love you too, you weirdo.”

“That wasn’t my answer, by the way. You go first, you’d be the one carrying any baby of ours, after all.”

“After Woobin, I told myself that if I had another, I’d do it…” You trailed off as you fumbled around for the right word.

“Right?” Kun supplemented hesitantly.

“No, no, I don’t think Woobin was wrong. That’s one thesaurus entry away from ‘mistake,’ as cheesy as that might sound. But, I told myself that I’d do my next one different. I’d be married to someone, we’d have planned the pregnancy over multiple conversations, talked about kids before we even got married in the first place, I’d have talked to Binnie about it, made sure he had the emotional space for a little sibling, too.”

“And we haven’t even talked about getting married…” He breathed out in realization.

You narrowed your eyes. “Qian Kun, do you think for even a second, that I would be with you if I didn’t think that I could marry you one day? After everything you’ve learned about me? After that whole toilet bowl confessional I just gave literally ten seconds ago? Consider this the marriage talk warning. It’s coming, and when it does, I expect you to bring notes.”

“Good point, I’m sorry for doubting you, lovey. I eagerly await the marriage talks, and I’ll make sure to do my research ahead of time.”

“Good.”

“So that’s how you want to do it. What about if that test is positive? Right now?” He returned you to the present, his voice gentle, as you were reminded of the very real, very possible, tangible now that you were being faced with.

You let your head drop forward into your hands as you tried to pick apart the tangled ball that was your thoughts and feelings. Thinking back to when you were doing this by yourself the first time in your workplace bathroom, when you found out you were pregnant with Binnie… you distantly remembered how you felt when you saw that double line, that positive result. There was definitely anxiety, yes, but more than that you remembered an excitement bubbling up and overflowing on top of that the longer that it registered.

This time, you weren’t feeling any of that. Not because you didn’t love the idea of having a child with Kun, but… it just wouldn’t be the right time. The two of you had only recently moved in together, you were still getting used to enmeshing your two—or, four—separate lives into one, you hadn’t even been together for a year, Woobin and Junyi hadn’t been consulted whatsoever, not to mention they had just started VPK and would be going into primary school next year; Kun had just gotten a promotion at work, yes, but you had your eye on your own possible promotion, too. It just… wasn’t right. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally looked up at Kun sitting across from you in the narrow space of the hallway bathroom. You could feel the tears gathering in your eyes, his image immediately swimming in your vision.

“Oh, hey, come here, lovey,” he gently ushered you down from your perch on the toilet seat cover onto the ground with him. He settled you in between his legs, wrapping his arms around you, “Sad cry or scary cry?”

You had the urge to smack his arm for treating you like one of the kids, but unfortunately, it was a really good communication tool.

“Goddamn,” you wept against his shirt, clinging onto him. “I don’t know, Kun. I don’t fucking know. It’s not a happy cry, though. And I don’t think that any kid should be brought into the world if their mom isn’t happy at the thought of them.”

He rubbed a hand up and down your back, not faltering for a moment as you spoke. When you were done, he started, “Look, Y/N. I’ll admit, the idea of having a baby with you kind of sent me to the stratosphere there for a second. But, I think that a baby is something that needs to be two enthusiastic yeses, or it’s a no. And you…” he pulled your face out of the crook of his neck to be able to look you in the eye. “Are clearly not enthusiastic nor a yes. So I’m not either. Okay?”

You sniffled, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, wiping at your tears. “Now, I think it’s been plenty of time. Are you ready to look at the test?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Kun stretched his arm out, fumbling along the top of the bathroom counter until he had secured the test in his hand. You turned in his arms, fully leaned against him, your back to his chest as he flipped the stick over for you two to read the results together.

Negative.

And you were crying again, but this time you knew that they were tears of relief.

“Oh, thank God,” you whispered, holding a hand over your mouth. “Oh… oh my God.”

“There we go,” Kun murmured, holding you to him by an arm slung over your waist. “Now, call me crazy, but I think we just manifested that negative pregnancy test result.”

You let out a choked laugh, “Would it be manifesting a negative or un-manifesting a positive?”

“Good question.”

He held a foot out until he could reach the step opener of the trash can, tossing the test into it. You sat there with him for who knows how much longer, until the cold of the tile finally seeped through your clothes, and your joints were aching from being curled up on your bathroom floor for so long.

“Oh shit, the boys are all by themselves in the living room,” you mumbled, beginning to detangle yourself from Kun.

“I’ll clean up in here. You get into some pajamas and then go see them, okay? They’ve been the normal amount of quiet, I think the movie’s got them sufficiently occupied, so take your time. I’ll be right behind you.” He reassured you, standing up after you did, and keeping a hand on the small of your back as you went to wash your hands again.

The remnants of the pregnancy test packaging were on the counter, not to mention the general disarray from your breakdown, and the fact that you hadn’t tidied up from the boys’ bathtime earlier that night either. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you could see that you weren’t in much better shape than the bathroom.

“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Kun.” Your voice wasn’t any louder than a whisper, and it didn’t need to be in the small, quiet space.

He pressed a long kiss to your temple before you left for your bedroom to change out of the clothes that you’d gone to the convenience store in. Putting on the comfiest pajamas you could find, you then shuffled out to the living room, which you were glad to see was in one piece. Tension you didn’t even realize you were carrying released from your shoulders when your eyes fell on the two kids sat on the couch, their attention glued to the screen.

You weren’t sure how long you had been standing there before Woobin finally turned his head to look at you. “Oh hi Mommy!”

“Hi, Ms. Y/N!”

“Hi, boys, can I join you?” You asked.

“Well, yeah!” Junyi said in the most ‘duh!’ tone you’d ever heard a four-year-old imitate. He patted the open space between the two of them. “We saved you a spot here.”

“Oh, thank you.” You sat down exactly where he had gestured, tucking your feet underneath you. Woobin immediately clambered onto your lap, and Junyi scooted in to snuggle into your other side.

“And when Daddy gets here, his spot is over here,” Junyi pointed to the remaining space between him and the arm of the couch. “And he can put the blanket on all of us.”

“Right, of course, bun,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around the two boys to hold them even closer to you.

Woobin touched a hand to your cheek, “Mommy, you’re crying. Sad cry, scary cry, or boo-boo cry?”

“Oh, no, baby, it's a happy cry,” you assured him, wiping at the couple of tears that had eked out again with your sleeve. “It’s because I love you all so much.”

“Happy cry,” he repeated, as if committing the term to memory.

Kun joined the three of you a few minutes later, sliding into his assigned seat and pulling a blanket over the four of you. Mindful of the child in between you two, you rested your head on his shoulder.

Against your instincts, you shut the front door quietly behind you as you came home that night. You’d gotten caught up at work with a deadline suddenly being moved up. You plopped your purse onto the kitchen table next to the huge LEGO set that you’d started with the boys last weekend as Kun got up from the couch to greet you. He was already in his pajamas, a stark contrast to the office wear you were still in.

“Hey, lovey,” he pecked your cheek, letting you snake both your arms around his waist and hold him closer. “How was work?”

You let out a low, exhausted groan into his shoulder. “Long. If I ever have to read another word again in my life, it’ll be too soon.”

“Then you’ll be very happy to hear that I already read the boys a bedtime story.”

“Shit, am I that late?” You sighed. “I know I told you I’d probably miss dinner but I didn’t mean for you to do bedtime all by yourself, too.”

“It’s okay, I know you would’ve been here if you could. The three of us managed for one night.”

“How was everything? Were they good for you?”

“Absolute angels.”

You lifted your head up to shoot him a disbelieving look. “Our sons? Are you sure you’ve got the right kids in there?”

Kun chuckled, planting a kiss on your lips this time. “You know us too well. Only convinced them to get in bed with bribery.”

“Great, what did you promise them? Extra hour of TV this weekend? Kun, please do not tell me you promised a new toy or—”

“Woah, woah, who do you think I am?” He snorted, clearly offended. “I just had to promise that you’d give them their goodnight kiss when you got home. They were very concerned about going to sleep without one.”

Relief immediately flooded your system, along with a warm fondness. “Oh, good. I’ll go hold up our end, then.”

“Before you do,” Kun held you by the waist to keep you from walking away yet. He lowered his voice, tone turning serious. “Woobin was asking for you before lights-out. Not just for his goodnight kiss, but he wouldn’t tell me what was going on. I have a feeling he might still be up when you go in.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll pop into his room second. Thanks for the heads-up.”

With a final pat on the cheek, you left Kun’s warm embrace and treaded down the hall that contained the boys’ bedrooms and shared bathroom. You slowly opened the door to Junyi’s room first. The room was pitch black save for the dwindling light from his glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars, and you crept up to his bedside. Just able to see the faint outline of him under his covers, you gently brushed away some of his hair and laid a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Night, bun-bun,” you murmured, then kissed his pudgy little cheek one more time before standing up. He didn’t stir, his breathing remained peaceful and as you ducked back out you closed the door even more quietly than you had opened it.

As soon as you pushed the door to Woobin’s room open, you knew he was awake. He was in a phase of sleeping with a night-light on, meaning that you could immediately see his eyes staring at you.

“Hi, Mommy,” he deadpanned, hands folded together over his stomach.

You entered the room, shutting the door behind you. “Hi, baby. What are you still doing up?”

He squirmed a little under the covers, refusing to meet your eyes as you came to sit on his mattress next to him. “Waiting for my goodnight kiss.”

“Oh, you could’ve gone to sleep,” you reassured him, moving his bangs out of the way of his forehead. “Mommy would’ve still come and given you your goodnight kiss.”

He was silent as you leaned down to smooch his forehead. Pulling back, you asked, “Is that all, Binnie?”

Woobin mumbled something that you couldn’t quite make out.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again for me? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I want to say something, but it’s after my bedtime…”

“Don’t worry, baby. I want to hear what you have to say. You can say it now.”

“I don’t want Junyi to be mad at me.”

“Why do you think Junyi would be mad at you?”

“You can’t tell them!” He suddenly exclaimed, pleading and desperate.

“Tell who? Junyi and Mr. Kun?” You asked, brow furrowing with confusion.

He nodded fervently, panic on his features.

“You remember our rules about sharing things?”

“If it’s about safety or respect, we all have to know,” he recited mournfully. “It’s not! I promise! I think…”

“How about you tell me, and I’ll tell you if it’s something we should tell everyone. I won’t get mad, and you and me can talk about it for as long as you want first. Does that sound okay?”

“Okay…”

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said soothingly, watching him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

“I-I want to call Mr. Kun ‘Daddy.’”

You couldn’t help but smile widely at him, taking your son’s hand in yours. “That’s wonderful, baby. I think it would make Mr. Kun really happy that you want to.”

“But that’s what Junyi calls him…”

“And you think it would upset Junyi if you called him the same thing?”

“Yeah,” he sniffled.

“That’s very considerate, Binnie,” you told him proudly.

“Are you going to tell them?”

“No, not if you don’t want me to,” you shook your head. “But I think that it would be a good idea for you, Junyi, and Mr. Kun to all talk about this together. When you’re ready.”

Woobin sniffled again, and you leaned over to hug your boy. He immediately threw his arms around your neck, burying his wet face in the collar of your blouse.

When you finally left his room after watching him fall asleep with your own two eyes, you found Kun reclined in your bed, bedside lamp on as he read a book.

“Is Woobin alright?” Kun flipped his book shut and set it aside.

You shimmied out of your work clothes. “Yeah, he’s okay. Just… needed Mom before bed.”

He nodded, watching as you pulled sleep clothes on and shuffled over to the bathroom. “Mm, of course. Mr. Kun wasn’t enough…” He sighed dramatically, making you lean your head back out to glare at him, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth.

“Shut up,” you grumbled after spitting your toothpaste out and flicking the bathroom light off. You plopped into bed, snuggling up to your pillow and closing your eyes. “He loves you, you know that.”

The sound of the bedside lamp clicking off rang through your room before you felt the sheets shift around and Kun scoot closer to you.

“I know, I’m just not ‘Mom,’” he mused, grabbing your hands to tug you toward him.

You obliged, rolling over to face him and rest your head on his shoulder. He kissed your forehead, still holding your hands against his chest.

“Goodnight, my love,” you breathed out, “Thank you again for handling them alone tonight.”

“Goodnight, lovey.” He rubbed soothing circles into the palm of your hand with his thumb.

As you watched Kun alternate between pushing Woobin and Junyi on the swingset, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. It was peaceful afternoons like these that you treasured the most. You recognized a few more figures that were approaching the playground, waving to Johnny and Jaehyun in the distance as Mark and Sungchan immediately ran up to your two boys. The three dads all chatted as the four kids took off from the swingset at full speed towards the slides. You were on a bench a little further from the playset, and had no qualms about sitting and resting when you got the chance.

The playground was within walking distance of yours and Kun’s house, and right by the school, so it wasn’t a total shock to see some of your kids’ classmates there. You watched with amusement as all three of the adults perked up like meerkats towards the kids, who were now lined up at the monkey bars. Mark was first up, and must have been asking for help, as Johnny yelled out a ‘just a sec, champ!’ before gesturing between the three dads and all the kids clambering for their turn.

Apparently, Johnny and Jaehyun had decided it was their turn to help all four kids with the bars, as Kun lumbered over to plop down next to you at the picnic table.

“Thank God they showed up, I don’t know if I have it left in me to carry them back and forth across the monkey bars for the next hour,” Kun grunted, dropping his head down to rest on your shoulder.

You snickered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you watched all the children play. Woobin was the littlest, needing Jaehyun’s help all the way across the bars. The dad still gave him as enthusiastic of a double high-five as he gave Junyi after him, who was able to do a couple by himself after getting hoisted up there.

“Woobin wants to call you Dad, you know,” you blurted out in the quietness that had fallen between you and Kun.

Kun lifted his head up to look at you with wide eyes. “He does?”

“Yeah, he told me the other day. But he thinks Junyi will be mad at him.”

“Ohh…” He breathed out, nodding slowly.

“I would’ve said something to you, but he asked me not to tell you and Junyi at first. We had another conversation about it this morning, and he finally agreed that I could talk to you about it at least,” you explained. “I told him that you three should all talk. I think he’s really, really scared of making Junyi upset. They’re such good friends, you know?”

You looked on with fondness as the gaggle of kids around the monkey bars took off at a run away from Johnny and Jaehyun, apparently playing some kind of tag or hide and seek now. Woobin and Junyi were running off together hand-in-hand, giggling and cackling with laughter as Johnny mimicked chasing after them.

Kun ran a knuckle up and down your arm, trailing his hand down until he could lace his fingers with yours. “I know, sometimes I look at them and I think it’s like they’re… brothers.”

“Mm, yeah,” you hummed noncommittally. Finally taking your eyes off the playground, you turned to face him fully, covering his hand with both of yours. “Kun, with all this… it makes me really happy, you and Junyi make me really happy, and all four of us being together. But, I don’t— I’m not trying to replace Junyi’s mom. Despite what she did, he’s already had one, whatever memories he’s got of her. I want to be whatever he wants me to be. So, I’m perfectly content to be ‘Ms. Y/N’ for the rest of my life.”

“I asked him the other day, if he remembered his mom at all,” he admitted quietly.

“W-Why?”

“Morbid curiosity, I guess. He was so young, I wasn’t sure if he would. Funny thing was, he told me yes. So I asked what he remembered about her. And he just looked at me with the most confused expression I think I’ve ever seen him have and he goes ‘She picked me up from school today.’”

“Oh, oh my God,” you let out a choked chuckle, a lump growing in your throat.

“You picked him up from school that day, Y/N,” Kun said pointedly, poking you in the arm for emphasis.

“Yeah, I had guessed that,” you spluttered out, a wide, beaming smile on your face as you replayed those words in your mind over and over again.

“So it seems like, to me, you’re the only one with hang-ups about this, lovey.”

“I’m gonna fucking cry— no, scratch that, I already am,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes with one of your hands.

“Sad cry, scary cry, boo-boo cry, or happy cry?” Kun asked teasingly, thumb wiping away one of your tears.

“Happy cry,” you answered, despite the fact that he definitely already knew. “So happy. I love you so much, both of you.”

“Junyi!” The distant voice of Johnny called out, chastising.

Both you and Kun snapped your heads up to look, only to see said child running at you full-speed.

“Woobin! Let your parents…” Jaehyun trailed off in defeat as a second small body hurtled towards you. “Sorry! We tried to let you guys have a moment…”

“It’s alright!” Kun called back to them as the two boys finally made it to you.

You lifted Junyi up onto the bench next to you with no hesitation, and Kun plopped Woobin onto his lap, his little legs reaching into yours. Junyi sat himself down on one of your legs, facing you with the most worried, intense gaze on his face.

“Are you okay, Ms. Y/N?!” He wiped at your wet cheeks. “What happened?”

“Nothing, hunny-bun,” you promised, holding both of his little hands and dropping loud smooches to them. “Happy tears, they’re happy tears. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Because you love us so much?” Woobin asked, supplying the last reason you’d given him for your happy tears.

“Yeah, always, bubbles,” you grabbed his head to be able to press a kiss to his forehead. “Always love you guys so much.”

“Why does it make you cry?”

“Because I have so much love inside me for all of you that sometimes it feels like I could just… burst!” You said with enough of a sing-song-y inflection that it made the two kids giggle, especially when you mimicked an explosion with your hands. “So instead of spontaneously exploding, it comes out as tears sometimes. Tears aren’t bad, Binnie, remember?”

“I know, Mommy,” he nodded dutifully.

Kun spoke up then, “I think we should all talk about what was making your mom so happy this time, boys.”

Junyi looked at his dad with alarm. “What? Bin and I didn’t do anything! We’re not in trouble, right?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Woobin pouted. “Junyi—”

“No, you’re not in trouble,” Kun hushed them gently. “I just said it was making your mom happy. What about you two getting in trouble would make your mom happy?”

“Oh.”

“I mean, it’s about what you two want to call us.”

You were still cradling Woobin’s head, and stroked over his hair reassuringly. “It’s okay, Binnie. Tell them what you told me.”

“I-I want to call Mr. Kun ‘Daddy,’” he mumbled, looking down intently at his lap. “But I don’t have to if it’s going to make you sad, Junyi!”

Junyi listened to Woobin, face turning entirely confused. “But he is your dad! Why wouldn’t you call him that?” He turned his bewildered look to you next. “And you’re our mom, right?!”

“Of course I am, bun-bun,” you smiled at him. “Binnie just needs to know if it’s going to make you upset for both of you to call your dad the same thing.”

“No, Bin, s’not gonna make me sad,” Junyi said strongly. “Will it make you sad if we call her the same thing?”

Woobin sniffled and looked up, finally displaying his teary eyes to everybody. He shook his head, and you felt relief blossom out through every part of you. Kun squeezed him tightly.

“Bub, sad cry, scary cry, or happy cry?” Kun asked him.

The child took several deep breaths before he finally answered. “I-I think it was scary first, but now it’s a happy cry, Daddy. Like Mommy does.”

Kun let out a strangled chuckle as he hugged Woobin even tighter to him, planting a kiss to his temple. “That’s okay, bub. Look at you, big kid with big feelings.”

“Daddy’s crying too!” Junyi gasped. “Is it happy crying, Daddy?”

“Yeah, buddy, it is,” he confirmed, cheeks noticeably damp.

Junyi felt at his own dry eyes. “Why am I not happy crying? Mommy, why am I not happy crying? ‘M happy! I am!”

“Oh, bunny, it’s okay,” you couldn’t help but laugh, rubbing his back affectionately. “You don’t have to cry to be really happy. Sometimes you’ll be really, really happy, the happiest you’ve ever been, and you won’t cry. Everybody’s different.”

“I do.”

“I do!” Sooyoung squealed.

The officiant’s remaining words were drowned out by the crowd erupting into cheers as Sooyoung was dipped into a kiss by her now-wife. You clapped from your place behind her as her maid-of-honor, your cheeks already hurting from all the smiling you’d been doing that day.

As they practically ran back down the aisle together, giddy, you were left standing at the arch, holding SooSoo’s wedding bouquet that she’d forgotten in her excitement. The music swelled again, your cue for the wedding party to file out as well. You fell in beside Ahrin’s best man, taking a more reasonable pace down the walkway. Looking into the guests that had stood up, you caught Kun’s eye from one of the middle rows, a familiar wide, overjoyed grin on his face. He was in the stratosphere again.

You met up with Kun at your table at the reception, the wedding party table. While he wasn’t in the party, he was your plus one, and your friend of course made sure he was seated with you. After the obligatory speeches—including one that you had to give—everyone could start eating. Kids were allowed at the wedding, but you wanted to make sure that you could put all your focus on making this the best day ever for your friend and didn’t want to have the boys out too late either, so they were at home with a babysitter. After the food was the couple’s first dance, and you watched fondly from your table as Sooyoung and Ahrin swayed together, clearly in their own world, exchanging words and giggles and laughs that you couldn’t hear.

Kun’s hand and yours were entwined on your lap, and when the DJ asked for the wedding party and their plus-ones to join the newlyweds, you pulled him to floor by that hand. As Kun’s other hand settled on your hip, you affectionately smoothed down the lapel of his suit jacket before resting yours on the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he beamed at you.

“Hi, handsome,” you replied back humorously. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“You mean there could possibly be anything on my mind other than the fact that I’m dancing with the love of my life?”

“You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I’ve been launched into the stratosphere picturing our future together’ look,” you said frankly, but still with the same fond smirk on your lips. “So? What are you thinking about?”

His eyes widened minutely before he chuckled. “I’m having a good time with you, lovey. Is a guy not allowed to smile about that?”

“You are…”

“That’s all I was thinking about.” He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Always in the stratosphere when I’m with you.”

Despite his sweet words, you felt a twinge of disappointment in your chest, resting your cheek on his shoulder so he couldn’t see the contemplative frown on your face. The two of you were living together before Sooyoung and Ahrin had even met, you were raising two kids together right now, and had already discussed getting married—binders, spreadsheets, all your joint expectations for what you wanted out of a hypothetical future partnership like that. Why was he shying away from the subject now? Was seeing you actually at a wedding making him have second thoughts? Did it suddenly all seem too real? As if the binders and spreadsheets weren’t real enough?

Those weren’t questions to ask him now at your best friend’s wedding, so you bit your tongue, continuing to let him sway the two of you across the dance floor.

Later in the night, after your feet had gotten tired, Kun excused himself to use the restroom. You took the opportunity to catch your breath at the wedding party’s table. You’d been darting around the venue the whole time, either greeting friends of friends, dancing with people you knew, or stopping mishaps before they mis-happened. Some guests had started going home, so you felt somewhat comfortable taking a short rest.

You weren’t expecting one of the brides herself to sit down beside you, however.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Sooyoung asked knowingly.

You tried to perk up, slapping on a smile. “It’s nothing, SooSoo. My feet are tired. Why aren’t you with Ahrin?”

“We’re about to be together for the rest of our lives. I think she can piss by herself right now,” she replied.

“Oh, right.”

“And, it’s also my wedding, and I don’t want my best friend all sad and alone at my wedding. I know you’ve been fixing all my problems all day and all night. So will you let me help you with one of yours?”

You looked around to see if you could spot Kun anywhere, then leaned in towards her with a sigh. “Kun’s been acting weird today.”

“How?”

“We always talk about getting married pretty openly. But like, now that we’re at a wedding, it feels like he’s avoiding the topic.”

“Why haven’t you guys gotten married? You practically act like it anyway.”

“He still wants to surprise me with the proposal,” you said. “I told him no public proposals, no proposing on birthdays or holidays, and no proposing at other people’s weddings. But other than that…”

“When was that conversation? About getting married and engaged?”

You took a sip of your drink as you thought. “Mm… almost a year ago? Maybe ten months? It was a few conversations.”

“So Ahrin proposed like right after that,” she surmised. “He’s probably waiting for the right time. Making sure you weren’t too stressed with the kids, then the holidays, and being my maid-of-honor. Both of you are very thoughtful and also over-plan everything.”

“That’s true,” you sighed. “And also a bit less salient of a point coming from the poster child of U-Haul lesbians.”

Sooyoung wrapped an arm around your shoulders and rubbed your upper arm. “We’re different people in different relationships in different places in life, Y/N. You’ve got a really good guy who is head over heels for you and loves your kid as much as he loves you. Don’t forget all that in one night.”

“You’re right, SooSoo,” you leaned your head against hers. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She pecked your hair.

“Is everything okay?” Kun’s voice came from behind you, sounding very concerned.

“Oh, yeah, Y/N’s getting a little warm in here,” SooSoo informed him brightly, letting you go and standing back up. “Why don’t you take her outside, Kun? There’s a nice little garden walkway, I think there’s some benches out there.”

“Yeah, of course. Thanks, Sooyoung.”

Your friend gave you one last squeeze of your arm before taking back off into the crowd. Kun ushered you to your feet and guided you out of the main reception hall and into the much cooler nighttime air. Sooyoung was right, it was way less hot and stuffy out here, and there was a short walkway leading to a garden with some benches. Kun sat you down again there, rubbing your back as you stared listlessly out at the fountain in front of you. The fountain wasn’t on, the water inside of it still, and the air around you quiet and empty. In the distance, you could hear the music from the wedding venue, the thumping bass, and above you, a few stars dotted the sky next to a silver crescent moon.

“Is this better?” Kun asked you quietly.

“Yeah, thanks, Kun,” you replied shortly, still unable to shake the discomfort you felt from earlier. Despite your conversation with Sooyoung making sense in the moment, now that you were back with Kun, that uncertainty crept back into your mind.

“It was a lovely ceremony.”

“Yeah. SooSoo’s dress is beautiful on her.”

“Do you want to go home? If you’re not feeling—”

You suddenly straightened up to look Kun in the eye. “We’re going to get married, right? You do want to marry me, right, Kun?”

“Wh—” He scrambled to grab your hands in his, holding them tight. “Of course, love. Yes, of course I want to marry you, Y/N. Why would you think I didn’t?”

“I know we talk about it but… you haven’t proposed. And you’ve been acting weird tonight. And by weird, I mean normal. Like, not talking about marriage. We’ll be buying groceries, and you’ll somehow bring up us getting married, but now we’re at an actual wedding and you haven’t talked about us having one of our own at all…” The dam broke, all of your anxious rambles coming forth at once. “Nothing about if we should do this or that at ours, what flowers you might want, or even— You saw me at an altar holding a bouquet and are acting like it’s no big deal! You see our future in everything, but not today, and it’s been making me think that maybe you don’t see a future anymore.”

Oh god, you were fucking crying now. This was not how you wanted this conversation to go. Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you pushed them away with the back of your hand as you sniffled and tried to calm yourself down.

“Y/N, lovey, I am so sorry,” Kun’s voice was wavering too, and you knew he was holding back his own tears. “I do want to marry you, and I never wanted to make you think that I didn’t. You were right earlier, I’ve been in the fucking stratosphere all day, and I’ve been going crazy trying not to say every single thing that pops into my head about marrying you because I’ve got your ring and everything planned out for the proposal and it was going to be soon, I just wanted it to be a surprise for you and I didn’t want to accidentally spoil anything for you. But I never meant to hurt you, and I am so, so sorry that I did. God, I love you so much, it felt like my heart was going to give out when I saw you at the altar with a wedding bouquet, and then dancing after the first dance—”

You crushed your lips against his, letting go of one of his hands to wrap a hand around the back of his neck. He cupped your cheek softly, even as you kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in decades, and like you might never again, feverishly, past the point where you were out of oxygen and your head started spinning. Kun pulled back to pick up your left hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss on your ring finger.

“If I had it with me, I’d put your ring on you right now,” he promised, pressing another kiss to the empty knuckle. “Hell, we could elope tonight, find a drive-thru chapel.”

“The boys might feel left out,” you chuckled, pulling his mouth back to yours.

He hummed appreciatively against your lips, adding in between kisses, “Good— point. Pick them up on the way?”

“It’s past their bedtime.” You kissed him again. “They’d be cranky if we woke them up now.”

“Foiled again by two five-year-olds’ bedtime,” he sighed dramatically, leaning his forehead against yours.

“So how were you going to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Propose to me.”

“I’m still going to?”

“Well, I feel like I just ruined your surprise.”

“Me telling you what it’s going to be, would be ruining the surprise,” he scoffed and pulled back to let you see his indignant features. “Which I’m not going to do.”

You laughed, pecking his cheek. “I’m looking forward to it, my love.”

“And I’m looking forward to marrying you, and spending the rest of my life with you,” Kun sighed dreamily, pulling you in closer and resting his head against yours again. “I meant it when I said I’m always in the stratosphere with you, you know.”

“Me too, Kun.” You looped an arm around his back and under his suit jacket.

A few beats of peaceful silence went by, neither you nor Kun speaking, just the distant sounds of the music from the wedding, your own synchronized breathing, and a far-off train horn. You looked from the fountain up at the glowing half-moon above you.

“Thank you, lovey,” Kun broke the quiet, and you shifted your gaze to him, raising a curious eyebrow.

“You’re welcome?” You replied with slight amusement. “For what, love?”

“Somebody once told me that the whole point of being a parent was letting our kids know that they’re not alone in all this,” he began, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder where his hand rested.

“Who said that?”

“You did, lovey.”

“I did? Ooh, I’m smart,” you chuckled, patting his thigh. “You picked well, Qian Kun.”

He smiled at you fondly. “I know.”

“When did I say that?”

“Before we were even dating, you had invited Junyi and me to your apartment for a charcuterie night. When we were making that pitch for the preschool fundraising committee.”

“Oh, oh, oh, right.” You nodded quickly as the memories of that came flooding back to you. “You remember me saying that?”

“Of course. You completely changed my view on parenting that night.”

“Glad it was so life-changing for you.”

“It was also the moment I knew I was going to fall in love with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh maybe a little too hard, “Oh, Kun.”

“What’s that laugh for?” He chuckled lightly despite his obvious confusion.

“I’m just remembering how I was totally going to jump your bones that night and then Junyi walked in. Meanwhile you are just… so sweet, as always,” you admitted, stroking his cheek with the back of your fingers.

Kun’s eyes crinkled as he laughed and keeled forward a little. You let him laugh into your neck, cradling the back of his head as his shoulders continued to shake.

“I—” He coughed into his elbow as he righted himself and tried to compose himself again. His eyes were sparkling with tears from how hard he’d laughed as he looked at you now, and you affectionately touched the crinkles around his eye as a couple more giggles escaped him. Once he’d finally sobered up enough, he tried again, “You’ve also helped me realize that’s not just what being a parent is about, though. That’s what being a partner is, too. Making sure your person knows they’re not doing it alone. And I hope that’s how I make you feel, too.”

“Qian Kun, love of my life that you are—” you shook your head and grabbed his face with two hands. “Of course you do, and it’s taking everything in me not to squish your head right now because of how much I love you.”

Kun just laughed again, covering your hands with his and slotting your lips together.

⤷ masterlist

[soft-dark-vintage-blog]

I think it's so fucking clever that Hozier put Jackie & Wilson and Someone New back to back in his self-titled album. I mean, they're two ends of the same situationship and depict so well the current dating culture in general. Jackie & Wilson is that needy, hopeless, lonesome state where u just really long for companionship, connection, and stability. It doesn't matter with whom, it doesn't matter where, it doesn't matter how. Every person who crosses your path seems the one because you craft an idealized version of them in your mind. On the other hand, Someone New, besides keeping partially the idealizing strangers theme, goes for a more hedonistic route. It rejects the prospect of a stable relationship that leads to the traditional path of marriage and family in favor of exploration, the pleasures of the flesh (not necessarily only sex), adventure, and excitement. Yet it gets even more interesting if you consider that the persona is the same in both songs, but in different moments of their life (we all have been in both positions at least once). It beautifully captures how the experience of being a young adult is so much different than it once was. It brings up the contemporary developmental psychology that rejects that view of adulthood as the absolute end of development. 

I particularly like to think about these songs through the concept of emerging adulthood and how, due to the cultural and economic changes of our times, the self-exploration, construction of identity, and the "not really knowing what you wanna do with your life", that is usually expected only in adolescence, stays with us for longer nowadays. We're always changing, we'll be always developing till the day we die, and developing doesn't necessarily mean going forward.

Sometimes we take a few steps back, and that's completely okay. We can be Jackie & Wilson one day, Someone New the next one and then Jackie & Wilson all over again. So in this essay, I will discuss Hozier's discography through the views of contemporary developmental psychology and the common themes with 20th century Latin American poetry…

(My grammar in English is not the best, but I swear I'm not that illiterate in my first language)

[rispwr]

she's not me - JK - FF - ONE SHOT (M)

pairings : ex!jk x ex!fem!reader

sypnosis : He said he moved on, but why does your toothbrush still stand next to his, even when he has "someone new" already?

genre : ex2l, cheating, smut, fluff if you squint

content/warnings : oral(male recieving), smut, making out, bitch!oc, oc is not very nice, blowjob, missionary, lingerie, cheating! jk and oc.

disclaimer : this fic is completely fictional, i do not know any of the idols personally nor assuming that this is how they act in real life. this fic is for entertainment purposes only

People think they know what it’s like to have everything. They think it must be easy, having the world at your feet, getting anything you want with a single demand. Well, they’re right. It is easy. Easy, effortless, perfect—just how I like it. 

And Jungkook? He was no different.

From the moment he laid eyes on me, he worshipped me. He bought me anything I asked for, made time for me whenever I needed him, and spoiled me in ways even my parents never could. He used to say I was everything he ever wanted, everything he couldn’t resist. But that’s the thing—people always want you until they can’t have all of you. And when Jungkook realized just how much it took to keep me, he broke. He said I was “too much.”

I laughed at him. Too much? He knew who I was from the beginning, knew that I don’t do “less.” I don’t tone it down. I don’t bend for anyone. He thought he could change me, make me softer, more agreeable, more manageable.

Pathetic.

So he left. Said he needed space, that he couldn’t handle my demands anymore. I told him to go, told him I didn’t care. If he couldn’t give me everything, then I didn’t need him. There’s always someone else who can. At least, that’s what I told myself.

Yet here we are—him, in my apartment, like nothing’s changed.

I stand at the foot of my bed, my arms crossed as I watch him pace around the room like he’s trying to convince himself he shouldn’t be here. But he is here. And that says more than any of his excuses ever could.

“You really thought you could move on from me?” I taunt, my voice dripping with amusement. “Please, Jungkook. You know how this works. You always come back.”

He glares at me, his jaw clenched tight. “You think this is funny? You think this is some kind of game, Y/N?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on. Don’t act like you’re the victim here. You knew exactly what you were getting into from the start. You chose this.”

“You haven’t changed at all,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Still the same spoiled, selfish—”

I cut him off with a smirk. “And yet, here you are.” I take a step closer to him, watching the way his body tenses as I invade his space. “If you really hated me so much, you wouldn’t be here. But we both know why you came.”

He doesn’t answer, but I can see it in his eyes. He’s struggling, caught between the version of himself he wants to be and the one he can’t escape. The one that always finds its way back to me. He’s with someone else now, or at least, that’s what he’s told everyone. He’s “moved on.” He’s “happy.” But if that’s true, why did he come here tonight? Why did he show up at my door, knowing exactly what was going to happen?

Because I still own him. No matter who he’s with, no matter how much he tries to deny it, he’ll always come back to me.

I run my fingers along his jawline, feeling the tension beneath my touch. “You’re still mine, Jungkook. You can lie to yourself all you want, but we both know the truth.”

His breath hitches, and for a moment, he falters. I can see the struggle in his eyes, the fight between wanting to leave and wanting me. But it doesn’t last long. It never does.

Without warning, he grabs me, pulling me closer, his hands rough against my skin. He’s angry, frustrated, but I can feel the need beneath it all. This is what he wants. This is why he’s here. And no matter what he says, I know I’m still in control.

I don’t even have time to smirk before he’s on top of me, his lips crushing mine with a desperation that’s almost laughable. He hates me, or at least, he wants to. But that hate only makes him want me more.

I give in, letting him take what he needs, because this is what I wanted from the start. He thinks he’s the one in control, that he’s the one making the decisions, but the truth is, he’s doing exactly what I want him to.

And then, just as I knew it would happen, the sound of his phone interrupts us.

His body goes rigid, and for a second, I think he’s going to stop, going to pull away and regain whatever shred of dignity he thinks he has left. But he doesn’t. He keeps going, ignoring the buzzing in his pocket as it continues, relentless.

I smirk against his lips, pulling back just enough to whisper, “Your girlfriend’s calling.”

He freezes, his breath heavy against my skin. The phone keeps buzzing, the screen lighting up with her name. I glance down at it, the smirk never leaving my face.

“You gonna answer that?”

He doesn’t respond, but I can see the guilt flicker across his expression. It’s almost endearing, how he still tries to pretend like he’s better than this. Like he’s not exactly where he wants to be.

The buzzing stops, and for a moment, there’s silence. But I’m not done yet.

I brush my lips against his ear, my voice soft but biting. “You’ll really always come back, won’t you? No matter how many times you try to run, no matter who you’re with… you’ll always end up here. With me.”

He’s silent, but the look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know. 

The phone buzzes again, and this time, I laugh. A low, mocking sound that cuts through the tension between us.

“You should really answer her, you know. She might start wondering where you are.” I pull away from him completely, walking toward the bed with a casual grace that I know drives him crazy. “Or maybe you’d rather stay here. With me.”

Jungkook doesn’t move at first. He’s still standing there, conflicted, torn between two worlds that are pulling him in opposite directions. I can see it in his eyes—the guilt, the frustration, the longing. He wants to leave. He should leave. But he can’t. He never does.

And that’s the thing about Jungkook. No matter how much he tries to fight it, no matter how many times he tells himself he’s done, he’ll always come back.

Because I’m the one thing he can’t let go of.

I sit down on the bed, crossing one leg over the other as I watch him wrestle with himself. The phone buzzes again, louder this time, as if it’s demanding an answer. But he’s not going to pick it up. He’s not going to leave.

Jungkook’s phone buzzes again. This time, instead of ignoring it, he lets out a frustrated sigh and pulls it out of his pocket. His eyes flicker to the screen, and for a moment, I think he’s going to silence it like before, but then his thumb hovers over the answer button.

Interesting.

He presses it and brings the phone to his ear, his voice changing, softening in a way that makes me roll my eyes.

“Hey, Sewon,” he says, his tone so calm, it’s almost disgusting. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be home tonight… I’m at my mom’s house. She’s sick, so I’m staying over to take care of her.”

I arch a brow, barely able to hold back a laugh. Your mom’s house? Of all the lies he could’ve told, he picked that?

He glances at me while he speaks, and I can’t help but smirk. His lies are so obvious, so transparent. Sewon must be a fool if she buys this.

“I know,” Jungkook continues, running a hand through his hair, trying to sound convincing. “I’ll check in tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry about me.”

He nods as if she can see him. “Yeah, love you too. Get some rest.”

When he finally hangs up, there’s a brief moment of silence between us. The phone in his hand feels like an invisible weight between the two of us, heavy with the guilt and deceit that’s been left hanging in the air.

And then, just like that, he tosses the phone onto the dresser and turns back to me. His eyes darken, the softness from his voice with Sewon gone in an instant, replaced by the hunger that’s always been there. The one he can never hide when he’s with me.

I laugh quietly, shaking my head as I lean back against the pillows, propping myself up with my elbows. “Your mom’s house?” I mock, biting my lip to keep from outright laughing. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to. The look in his eyes says everything.

He crosses the room in two quick strides, grabbing me with a possessive force that sends a thrill through my body. He pulls me to him, and before I can say another word, his lips crash against mine.

There’s nothing soft or gentle about the way he kisses me this time. It’s desperate, raw, and full of frustration—everything that’s been simmering between us since the moment he walked through the door.

The kiss deepens, and I feel the heat radiating between us. Jungkook’s hands grip my waist, his fingers digging into my skin, igniting every nerve in my body. I can taste the urgency in his kiss—the need, the desire, the pent-up frustration from the distance we’ve kept between us.

He pulls away just long enough to look me in the eye, and I can see the battle raging inside him. “i shouldn't be here” he says, his voice a low growl. But there’s no conviction behind his words. I can see the truth lurking just beneath the surface.

“you shouldn't..” I reply, my tone dripping with confidence as I pull him closer. “but aren't tired of her?”

With a sudden burst of determination, Jungkook’s hands slide down to the hem of my dress. In one swift motion, he tears it away, the fabric ripping apart like it’s made of paper. The cool air hits my skin, sending chills down my spine, but the thrill of being exposed to him makes me gasp.

My lingerie, black lace and delicate, is now the only thing standing between us. I can see the way his eyes darken, the way his breath hitches as he takes in the sight of me. I can feel his desire, raw and intense, radiating from him.

“God, Y/N,” he breathes, his voice thick with lust. “You drive me insane.”

And just like that, I know this is what he wants—what we both want. The boundaries of our past and present melt away in the heat of the moment, and all that matters is the connection between us, the electric tension that fills the room.

I can’t help but smirk as I lean back, teasingly inviting him to explore what’s beneath my lingerie. “Then stop talking,” I whisper, “and show me just how insane I make you.”

"take this off, please" i whined "desperate that much? all for cock?" he hissed under his breath chuckling "your cock" murmured breathly. 

"unbuckle it then. show me how much you're a slut for this cock" he demanded me. ofcourse our sex was always great, no matter what happens he'll always come back to me. i got up on my knees and start unbuckling his belt while keeping eye contact.]

i palm his obviously hard bulge teasing him. "Feel this? It's just for you." he mutters "ofcourse it is" i give him a look "who else is it supposed to be for?" i laugh hysterically, enjoying every moment i'm in control. 

I slip his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, exposing him fully. His breath hitches as I continue palming him, watching his reactions with satisfaction. His head tilts back slightly, his jaw clenched in restraint, but I can see how much control I have over him in this moment.

"That’s right,” I purr, my voice low. “No one else can make you feel like this.”

Jungkook lets out a low groan, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me closer, but I keep the pace slow, teasing him. His frustration is palpable, but that only spurs me on. I love seeing him like this, powerless beneath my touch despite how dominant he tries to be.

"You're enjoying this way too much," he mutters through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing at me.

I laugh softly, leaning in just enough to whisper in his ear. "And you're going to let me, aren’t you?"

For a moment, there’s only the sound of our breathing, the heat between us overwhelming. His hand moves to the strap of my lingerie, tugging at it roughly. “Take it off,” he demands, his voice a growl, filled with need.

I look up at him, my eyes glinting with defiance. “Make me,” I challenge, knowing full well what it’ll do to him.

The tension between us crackles

His eyes flash with a mix of frustration and desire, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body as he grapples with the control he’s trying to maintain. “You think you can play games with me?” he challenges, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, betraying his eagerness.

With a swift motion, Jungkook grips the strap of my lingerie and pulls it down, exposing my skin to him. The cool air sends a shiver through me, and I let out a soft gasp. His gaze darkens, drinking in the sight before him, and I can’t help but feel empowered by his reaction.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a hint of pride lacing his voice as he watches me, eyes burning with hunger. “Now, let’s see how much you really want this.”

I bite my lip, reveling in the control I have. I shift my weight back on my knees, arching my back just a little, offering him a glimpse of everything he craves. “You want me to beg for it?” I tease, my tone laced with playful challenge.

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head as if to say he’s not going to give in that easily. “I want you to show me, Y/N. Show me how desperate you are.”

With a sly smile, I lean forward, keeping my gaze locked on his as I lower my mouth to his hardness. I let my breath ghost over him, the teasing anticipation making his muscles tense even more.

“Feel this?” I ask, my voice sultry as I glance up at him. “she can never ever make you feel this way”

“uhuh- y-yeah” he retorts, his voice strained.

I laugh softly, enjoying the way my teasing drives him wild. The power shifts back and forth between us, but for now, I hold the reins.

I wrap my hand around him, giving him a few teasing strokes. His eyes widen, and a groan escapes his lips, making my heart race. The rush of power I feel is intoxicating, and I lean in closer, taking him in my mouth slowly, savoring the moment as I begin to work him with my tongue.

“God, Y/N,” he gasps, his hand threading through my hair, encouraging me to take him deeper. I can feel him fighting to maintain control, but the way he pulls me in tells me he’s losing the battle.

I look up at him, watching the way his face twists in pleasure. “You love this,” I whisper, pulling back just enough to let my words hang in the air between us.

“Don’t stop,” he growls, the command wrapped in desperation. “You know I can’t resist you.”

I smile, knowing I’ve pushed him just where I want him. The thrill of our back-and-forth dance adds another layer of heat to the moment, and I relish in the chaos we’ve created.

With renewed determination, I take him deeper again, swirling my tongue around him while my hands continue to work his length. The sounds he makes spur me on, igniting the fire within me, and I can feel my own body responding to the thrill of the moment.

“God, Y/N, i-i'm cumming” he admits, breathless and raw, his eyes wild with need.

I pull away slightly, my lips glistening. “Then don’t. Let go,” I encourage, my voice low and sultry. “I want to see just how far you’ll go for me.”

His breath catches at my words, and I can see the battle within him intensifying. Jungkook's eyes darken with a mix of desire and urgency, the tension crackling between us as I watch him teeter on the edge of control.

“You’re insane,” he mutters, his voice rough. “Do you know that?”

“Maybe,” I tease, a playful smirk on my lips. “But you love it.”

Before I can say anything else, he grips my hair tightly, pulling me back up to meet his gaze. The sudden shift catches me off guard, but there’s a wild glint in his eyes that sends a thrill down my spine.

“I want you, Y/N,” he growls, and it’s a statement, not a request. “Now.”

With that, he shoves me back onto the bed, his hands exploring my body with urgency. The way he caresses me is both rough and tender, his touch igniting every nerve ending as he hungrily takes in the sight of me beneath him. I feel alive, electric under his gaze.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with a possessive edge. “So fucking perfect.”

As he leans down to kiss me again, his lips find mine with a fierce hunger. I feel myself melting into him, our bodies pressing together, a collision of heat and desire. It’s intoxicating, and I can’t help but lose myself in the moment, all thoughts of Sewon and the outside world slipping away.

“Please, Jungkook,” I whimper, the need pooling within me, begging for release. “I need you.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching mine, as if gauging my sincerity. “You really want this?” he asks, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone. “After everything?”

I nod, desperation spilling over. “You know I do. You always come back to me, Jungkook. We can’t fight this.”

He grits his teeth, his grip on me tightening. “You’re right. I can’t fight it.”

And just like that, he reclaims his dominance, his lips crashing against mine once more, the kiss deepening as he settles himself between my legs. I feel the heat radiating from him, the raw energy making my heart race faster.

“Then let’s stop pretending,” he murmurs against my lips, his breath mingling with mine. “Let’s give in to what we both want.”

With a swift motion, he pulls my lingerie down, leaving me completely exposed to him. The thrill of vulnerability sends shivers through my body, the anticipation of what’s to come making me dizzy with excitement.

“Jungkook,” I gasp, my heart racing as he moves closer, his warmth enveloping me entirely.

He leans in, kissing down my body, his lips trailing fire across my skin. Each touch ignites a desperate longing within me, pushing me closer to the edge. “You deserve this, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice low and raspy. “You deserve everything.”

His hands explore every inch of me, igniting sensations I’ve only ever dreamed of. The pleasure builds, a wave of heat that makes me writhe beneath him, and I can feel myself teetering on the brink, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

“Jungkook, please,” I plead, my voice trembling with need. “jungkook..please- fuck!! i'm cumming- im cumming”

He looks up at me, his expression a mix of mischief and determination. “go” he commands, his voice deep and commanding, sending another wave of desire coursing through me.

With one swift motion, he positions himself at my entrance, and I can feel the heat radiating from him, the promise of everything I crave.

“wanna cum again?” he asks, searching my eyes for any hesitation.

I nod, my heart pounding. “yes! fuck- yes please!!”

As Jungkook fills me, a gasp escapes my lips, a mix of pleasure and relief washing over me. Every inch of him feels like home, like the part of me I didn’t know I was missing until this very moment. It’s intoxicating, the way he moves, his body melding with mine as if we were always meant to be this way.

He begins to move, slow at first, savoring the moment. Each thrust sends ripples of pleasure coursing through me, and I can feel the tension in my body tightening. My nails dig into his back as I pull him closer, urging him to go deeper, to give me more of what I crave.

“Y/N,” he breathes, his voice strained and filled with desire. “fuck. you're so tight”

I can’t help but smile, the rush of excitement and control coursing through me as he loses himself in the moment. “You like this, huh?” I tease breathlessly, my hips meeting his with every thrust. “You like coming back to me, even after everything.”

He groans, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine, driving me wild. “I can’t help it. You drive me crazy.”

With each movement, the rhythm between us builds, and I can feel the way his body responds to mine, the way he lets go of everything else that exists outside this room. 

“More,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. “I want more, Jungkook. Don’t hold back. fill me up”

His gaze sharpens, and there’s a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “You asked for it,” he warns, but there’s no hesitation as he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming deeper and more urgent.

The world around us fades away, and it’s just the two of us—lost in our own little universe. I feel every sensation magnified, the pleasure building with each movement, spiraling higher and higher until I feel like I might burst.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his voice thick with desire. “You’re so fucking perfect. I can’t get enough of you.”

I can feel my walls tightening around him, the pressure building, and I know I’m close. “Jungkook,” I breathe, my voice trembling with need. “I’m going to—”

“Let go,” he urges, his breath hot against my ear. “show me who's making you cum like this.”

His words push me over the edge, and with a cry, I let the pleasure take over. It washes over me in waves, pulling me under until I can hardly breathe, and I can feel him following me, the way his body tenses, the deep groan that escapes his lips echoing in my ears.

“Y/N!” he cries out, and the sound sends another rush of pleasure through me as we both ride the waves of ecstasy together. The connection between us is electric, and I can’t remember ever feeling so alive.

As we both come down from the high, Jungkook collapses beside me, panting heavily, his chest rising and falling with every breath. I turn to him, a smile spreading across my face, knowing that despite everything, we always find our way back to each other.

“See?” I tease, nudging him playfully. “I told you you’d come back.”

He chuckles, looking over at me with that familiar warmth in his eyes. “You make it impossible not to.”

And just like that, the playful banter flows between us, the tension easing as we bask in the afterglow of what we just shared.

But then, the moment is interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing, cutting through the air. Jungkook’s expression shifts, and I can see the annoyance etched on his face as he glances at his phone.

“It’s Sewon,” he says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at the interruption.

“Shouldn’t you pick it up?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow, trying to gauge his reaction.

He hesitates, his thumb hovering over the screen. “I don’t want to,” he admits, his voice low.

“Then don’t,” I reply, my heart racing at the thought of him choosing me over her, even if just for a moment.

But Jungkook sighs, and I can see the conflict in his eyes. “I have to,” he says reluctantly. “She’ll worry if I don’t.”

“Why should you care?” I shoot back, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “You’re here with me, not her.”

“I know,” he replies, running a hand through his hair. “But I don’t want to deal with her drama right now.”

“Then don’t,” I urge, my tone softening as I reach out to touch his arm. “Just be here. Be with me.”

He looks torn, glancing back at his phone before finally silencing it. “You’re right,” he says, his gaze locking onto mine. “I’ll deal with her later.”

I smile, feeling a surge of satisfaction. “Good. Now come here.”

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss me softly. “You always know how to get what you want, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I reply, smirking. “It’s what I do best.”

taglists : @crazyovayou @sinfullygay @minghaosimp @pitchblack0309

[thevoidstaredback]

Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools:

Letters Between Brothers

Dear Damian Wayne, Dec. 19, 2011

There really isn’t a good way to say any of this, especially via a letter. If I’m being completely honest, which I am, I would much rather be saying this to you in person. For both our safety, though, this was the best way I found to contact you.

First off, congratulations on being brought into the Wayne household! I never would’ve considered imagining that Bruce Wayne would be our father, but, here we are. Unless you’re there undercover? I doubt that, though.

Now, I should probably cut to the chase, no matter how much I want to stall. You might not remember me, but I’m your brother. Don’t freak out! Please, just finish reading this, at least. If you don’t believe me or you don’t want to ever talk to or see me again, then that’s fine. I completely understand.

You probably hate me, and I don’t blame you, but I couldn’t stay there. When we got separated on that mission, I ended up nearly killed. Some civilians found me and took me to a hospital to get my injuries treated. I realized, after I woke up, that this was the life I wanted. Leaving you hurt me so much more than I could ever describe in any language, but going back to Grandfather and Mother was a death sentence. I hated doing that to you, but I couldn’t do that to myself.

God, I suck at this.

I love you, Dami, I really do. I’ve wanted, for years, to come back to you, but I didn’t because I’m a coward. A selfish coward who can’t even face his own brother properly.

Forgiveness is a luxury I have no right to ask you of, but I’m going to anyway. So, can you? Can you ever forgive me for leaving you alone? Can you ever forgive me for leaving you  to think I died? Can you ever forgive me for making you go back to that place alone? Can you forgive me for being so selfish?

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you then, and I don’t mean to hurt you now. I’m beyond ecstatic that you made it out. I’m so happy that you’re with father now. I hope you never have to go back to Nanda Parbat ever again.

شكراً لكونك أخي

          Danyal ‘Danny’ Fenton

              (xxx) xxx-xxxx

***

There was a time that Danny only ever referred to as Before. Before he’d come to America; Before he’d been taken in by the Fenton Family; Before he’d lost himself to the life he’d never envisioned. He could remember it well.

*

He’d grown up in Nanda Parbat , high in the Himalayan Mountains. Beautiful buildings made of golden sandstone bricks, roofs made of the redist clay shingles, untouched snow for as far as the eye could see, and mountain peaks stretching high above the little valley.

There were greenhouses, too, filled with plants of all kinds from everywhere! Food, poisons, antidotes, it was all grown in Nanda Parbat. Clean water was pulled from the wells and the snow as though nature herself was giving her best to this one place. Truly a heaven on earth. The Garden of Eden, some people called it.

The residents were known to very few, only ever coming down when they found themselves with visitors. The towns at the base of the mountain ranges had plenty of legends about the People of the Mountains, but even fewer still knew their real secrets.

The League of Assassins, founded by Ra’s al Ghul himself, had made Nanda Parbat their home base, though neither Ra’s nor his daughter, Talia, made a habit of staying for too long or visiting often. No, Nanda Parbat had been claimed to raise the heirs and guard the Lazarus Pits.

Danny had been born in those very halls, buried deep within the protective embrace of the mountains, mere minutes after his brother. He knew nothing but Nanda Parbat, half convinced that his instructors were lying about the outside world. After all, could it really exist if he’d never seen it?

Grandfather and Mother came by thrice a year. Once to check on or use the Lazarus Pits, once to check on the Demon Heirs, and once to instruct lessons of their own. It was how it had always been done, so Danyal and Damian knew nothing else.

Grandfather would tell tales of conquest, instructing them on how to mold their very surroundings to their wills. Mother shared her missions, warning against how others would try and use them to get to her and Grandfather, seeing them as the weakest link. Damian and Danyal taught each other, on the nights when they could escape prying eyes, the importance of secrets. No one to trust but yourself, both Grandfather and Mother had pushed, anyone will betray you when given the right incentive.

The day came when Mother and Grandfather came to check on the Pits. The week-long stay had been the same every year, but their instructors had announced a change. Danyal would be going with Mother while Damian would be going with Grandfather. They would return to continue their studies in Nanda Parbat by the next full moon.

Danny had been excited. He was going to the outside world! He’d never been there before! He’d only ever seen pictures of it! Such fun! The only disappointment he held was that he was not going to share the moments with Damian. Yes, they would be leaving together, but they wouldn’t be together. Mother and Grandfather stayed at separate bases, after all.

The night before they were set to depart their Himalayan Paradise, Danyal had snuck to the roof with his brother.

“I’m scared, ahki,” he whispered, the wind hiding his voice from all but his brother.

“Don’t be, ahki,” Damian had assured, “You will be with Mother. She will keep you safe.”

“But the instructors say that we will be on our own!” Danyal said, “Besides, I do not know Mother.”

Damian did not pause. “Of course you know Mother. She gave us life. She teaches us.”

“Yes, but I don’t know her. I know you, and I know the birds, but I do not know Mother nor Grandfather.”

“Perhaps,” Damian had suggested, “we do not need to know them as we know each other? Perhaps, we only need to know that Grandfather is Ra’s al Ghul and the Mother is Talia al Ghul.”

“Then that means you’re Damian al Ghul!” Danny smiled, emotion his instructors had tirelessly trained out of him bleeding into the privacy shared between him and his brother.

Damian nodded, “And you are Danyal al Ghul.” A beat. “We will be fine tomorrow and the day after and the days to follow. When we return to Nanda Parbat, we will sit in this very spot and share our adventures.”

“Tales of conquest?” Danyal asked.

“Warnings of fools.” Damian responded.

*

A tale as old as the dirt beneath his feet. Before had been five years ago. So long in the past, but only a few pages back. Sometimes, it was as though he’d never left Before behind him. His training, for all that it was minimal in his limited time within the snow valley, was carved into his very soul. Not even the wear of time could pull him away from a weapon or the scan for immediate exit points or the caution when dealing with new people and places.

Jazz had explained to him that his responses to certain situations should not be that cautious or violent. She’d tried again and again to tell him that he was safe; that he wasn’t where he had been Before.

He knew that, obviously. Nanda Parbat was free of the disgusting urbanization of the modern world. This place was free of the untouched beauty of the hidden gems. He could see the beauty in the contradictions and in what he had been taught to scorn, he was not an idiot, but he could not appreciate it the way people born there could.

*

The Doctors Fenton, only Masters in their fields at the time, had picked him up at the base of the Italian Appalachian Mountains. They’d treated his wounds, introduced him to their daughter Jazz, and given him the opportunity to escape where he had been.

The Fentons had taken his hesitation as confusion for the situation; amnesia. They told him, as gently as they could, that all signs pointed to an abusive home. They wanted to help him get out as soon as they could.

But, that wasn’t right. Danny, in all his six years, knew exactly what an abusive relationship was. It was one of the things his Mother had taught him about when he’d first left Nanda Parbat with her when he was four! He didn’t come from an abusive home or an abusive relationship! Damian would never put him through that, and the ninja all knew better than to do anything untoward to him and Damian.

“And what about your parents?” Jazz, being only eight years old, had not held her tongue as Danny had been taught to. “Or any other adults?”

Now that, that was definitely a thought. But, no. No one within the confines of Nanda Parbat or within the League of Shadows as a whole had ever hurt him outside of training. The injuries they had treated were from a mission, not from his Grandfather or Mother or brother hurting him!

*

His attempts at clearing the misunderstanding had been brushed off as his imagination trying to protect him. Repressing and changing trauma, Jazz had translated.

He had thought, at the time, that everyone was wrong. He had come from a perfectly normal place! Though, the week he spent in the hospital had him second guessing. He was the only one looking for every possible exit in case of any possible situation at any given time. He was the only one prepared to slit the throats of everyone in the room if they got in the way of his escape. He was the only one to actively check for weapons to use or be used against him.

During his stay in the hospital, because they wouldn’t let him leave before he was cleared by the doctors who worked there, the Fentons had exposed him to many things that made him question his upbringing. But, now that he knew the truth, he’d never be able to go back.

The Fentons had promised him, the night before he was cleared to go, that they would help him stay away from the people who had hurt him, so long as he allowed them to. And how could he not accept? Too many questions had invaded his mind. The only way to answer them was to do as his Mother had taught him: learn from experience. So, he relented, leaning into the ‘trauma induced amnesia’ everyone had assumed he had, and went along with the Fenton Family.

But what about Damian? Surely, he was safe. Surely, he’d gotten back to Nanda Parbat and reported to Grandfather and Mother that Danyla had been killed! He could not go back, not yet. And maybe, a tiny, selfish part  of him that he hid in the darkest corners of his brain, was glad he wouldn’t be going back for any reason. To make himself feel better, he’d told himself that he’d go back for Damian once he was sure he wouldn’t be caught and killed for treason.

The plans laid within the floorboards under his bed with the katana and daggers the Fentons had let him keep.

Exactly four months after turning ten, Danny had turned on the TV. It was just to provide white noise while his adoptive parents were out, so he didn’t really care about the channel. Jazz hadn’t cared, either. If she had, she hadn’t said anything.

The channel had been one for national news. The covered story was in Gotham, New Jersey. Not unusual, but concerning until none of the names of the city’s rogues had been named. Bruce Wayne was holding a gala to officially introduce his youngest son to the world. That is what dragged Danny to sit and watch attentively.

Danny knew the name Bruce Wayne very well. His Mother had told him, no less than six times, that he was to go to Bruce Wayne if he ever found himself in a situation where the League of Shadows couldn’t help him. Bruce Wayne was his go-to if he ever needed because he is his father.

When Danny first met the Fentons, something had kept him from escaping. He could have, but he didn't. Something had compelled him to stay. That same something had told him to avoid Bruce Wayne when he was ten. That same something was now telling him to go to his father.

Danny didn’t listen to that something. Instead, he watched his brother stand beside their father and his other children. He followed his brother’s public persona studiously. When he pieced together Damian being Robin, meaning that Bruce Wayne was likely Batman, he followed his vigilante life, too. All the while, he was too much of a coward to actually reach out to them.

After all, what would they get out of having a relationship with him? He was a traitor to the Shadows, dead by all accounts that mattered. They already had an established family, so why would they want Danny? So, he stayed away.

It wasn’t until the week before his and Damian’s eleventh birthday that he finally managed to write a letter to his older brother. He timed it so that the letter would arrive the day of their birthday. A part of him hoped that Damian would get, read, and respond to the letter. A bigger part of him hoped that it would be lost amongst the birthday cards that were surely being sent to Damian now that he was living with their father.

Damian’s father. Danny already had a father. Well, a dad. He also had a mom and a sister. He even had an aunt! Not to mention the friend he made. He’s never had a friend before! So, yeah. Danny had a mom, a dad, a sister, and a friend. He wanted Damian, but he wasn’t going to get his hopes up. If Damian didn’t want him, then that meant that he wouldn’t have a brother or Grandfather or Mother or a father. Or three more brothers, apparently. He couldn’t really find it in himself to be upset about any potential loss that wasn’t Damian.

*

“Please respond, please respond, please respond!” Danny chanted under his breath as he opened the mailbox. There were four letters inside, three for his parents and one for his sister. “La naiba!” he swore.

“What’s wrong?” Jazz asked as she came up behind him. She’d learned early on that it was near impossible to sneak up on him.

Danny shoved the three envelopes into her hands. “There’s nothing there for me.”

“Why would there be anything in there for you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you order something without telling mom or dad?”

He scoffed. “No. I sent a letter and I’m waiting for a response.”

Her head tilted to the left slightly. “When’d you send it?”

“Three days ago.”

“There’s no way you’re ever gonna get a response in three days.” She scolded lightly, leading the way into the house, “Just be patient.”

He followed her. “Easy for you to say!”

“Who’d you send it to anyway?”

“None of your business.”

Jazz turned on him, her expression as unimpressed as a twelve year old could be. Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, she raised her right eyebrow and tilted her head to the left again and slightly forward. When that didn’t get her what she wanted, she crossed her arms, her feet planted firmly in place. She’d picked up several things since Danny was brought into the family. This was one of them.

Danny hated it when Jazz did this. She reminded him so much of Damian that he had nearly cried the first few times she’d taken this exact stance to get what she wanted. Was it an older sibling thing? Regardless, it wasn’t very long before he cracked. “Okay, fine! But we talk in my room, okay?”

She smiled, losing the pose and opening the front door. “I can work with that. Do you want a snack?”

“Sure,” he huffed. He’d meet her in his room. If she wanted answers, she was going to have to bribe him. It was a subtle tactic, one that didn’t work because it wasn’t really bribery if he was already going to do what she wanted, but he needed to make himself feel better about it somehow.

It took exactly five minutes and thirteen seconds for Jazz to enter Danny’s room with some chips, crackers, and bottled waters from the pantry. Not that he was counting. They set up camp in the middle of the floor, the snacks on the floor between them and their homework set out to work on. Whether either of them would use the paper distraction was yet to be determined, but it had become common practice to have a distraction when a conversation seemed like it would take more than a few minutes. And this was definitely one of those conversations.

As soon as they were both settled, Danny took a deep and obvious breath. “I didn’t ever have amnesia.”

Jazz blinked. “What?”

What a way to start, Danny. Another breath. “When you guys first found me, the doctors said I had amnesia; that my brain locked away the memories of Before because I couldn’t handle the stress of it. I went along with it because that seemed like the best course of action at the time. But, I didn’t lose my memories. I still had them. I still have them.” He didn’t look up from the floor.

Jazz leaned forward and took a chip out from the bowl and popped it in her mouth, the crunch of her chewing doing nothing to cut the tension in the room. She swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? We could’ve had the people who hurt you arrested!”

Danny shook his head. “No. I…I thought, when I was growing up with Grandfather and Mother, that everyone was raised like that. It was all I knew. But then you guys found me and took me to the hospital and suddenly, things weren’t adding up. I decided to go with you guys because I knew I couldn’t return to Grandfather and Mother with my thoughts all messed up like that.”

To her credit, Jazz was taking this all in stride. She took another chip. “Why didn’t you leave when you got your thoughts all sorted out?”

“Honestly?” he huffed, “I realized that I didn’t want to live that life anymore.”

“Then why keep the weapons?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘sentimental value’?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

They let silence reign over them again for a bit, focusing on their homework and eating the food set out between them. Finally, after they were both finished, Jazz put her things back in her backpack and leaned against the wall behind her, taking the bowl of chips and a water bottle with her. “What was it like, your home Before?”

Danny smiled and slipped his own things away, leaning against his bed with the bowl of crackers and his own bottle of water. This was a topic he could talk about for hours. “I was born in Pakistan, in the Himalayan Mountains, specifically. Very secluded. My brother and I were the only two kids there.”

“Brother?”

“Yeah, his name’s Damian. He’s older than me by a few minutes.”

“Why wasn’t he with you when we found you?”

“Because we got separated.”

“Do we need to go find him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s with our father now.”

“Is he the one you sent the letter to?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” A beat. “Tell me more about where you were born?”

“Sure,” he smiled, “It’s a valley of snow, nestled between peaks in the Pakistanian end of the Himalayan Mountain Range. The buildings were all connected by roofed gravel walkways, yellow sandstone bricks and red clay shingles and dark wood pillars and floors and doors. The green houses were always my favorite. Any plant you could possibly think of was probably grown there! Damian always preferred the stables and pasture, though. He got along better with animals than actual people, I was the exception. When the weather was good, we’d take our lessons outside. If the weather was bad, then we’d study in the arena or the library.

“Sometimes, whenever Grandfather or Mother came to visit, they’d tell us stories about their adventures. My favorite stories, though, were of how Mother met my father and their adventures together. Grandfather doesn’t like those stories, though. He doesn’t like my father much.

“Me and Damian were the only kids there, so we had to play with each other. There weren’t any games we could play because adults are boring, so we made stuff up as we went along. Sometimes, we’d sneak into the stables and pet the horses! Other times, we’d sneak out of our rooms and climb to the roof to watch the stars.

“The stars were so pretty there! They’re the same stars that we see here, but they were so much brighter in Pakistan; more visible, y’know? The sky was so clear and it was so quiet- One of the people staying there gave me a book about the stars before he left.”

“Is that what started your fascination with space?” Jazz asked.

Danny nodded, “Yeah, it was. Damian would listen to me retell the same stories for hours whenever we climbed to the roof, but he never asked me to stop. I don’t think he ever looked at them and saw what I saw, though.”

“What did you see when you looked at the stars?”

“I saw something just barely out of my reach that I know I could grab if I was just a little bit taller, a little bit stronger, a little bit better.”

“Is that what you see now?”

“No.”

“Oh, then what do you see now?”

“I see the past, and I see a hope for the future.” He paused. “It was a competition between me and Dami, trying to be better than each other because whoever was the best was Grandfather’s and Mother’s favorite.”

She frowned. “You guys were kids! You shouldn’t’ve had to compete for attention like that!”

“I know that now,” he shot back, “But we didn’t then. We were raised to compete with everyone to hold Grandfather’s and Mother’s attention and favor. If we lost it, if we did anything that Grandfather deemed unworthy of the family name, then we were punished.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I know, but it’s what we knew.” A beat. “It was a big family, so not everyone stayed at the one compound.” The League was very far from being a family, but it’s the best way to describe it without exposing it to anyone. “Me and Damian were born and raised in the main compound in Pakistan. Grandfather, the head of the family, stayed and led from a compound in China. Mother stayed at a compound in Bangladesh. When we were four, I went and spent a month with Mother and Damian went and spent a month with Grandfather before we were sent back to Pakistan. When we turned five, I went with Grandfather and Damian went with Mother. When we turned six, we were both sent to spend time with family here in the states. I got separated from Damian and-”

“-me and mom and dad found you.” Jazz finished for him.

“Yep.”

“But, how did you get so hurt?”

Before he could answer, the front door burst open, their parents announcing their arrival carrying through the house. “A story for another time, I guess,” he shrugged.

Jazz wasn’t happy to have been interrupted, but she didn’t push. Instead, she took the empty bowls and went downstairs to greet their parents.

Danny leaned his head back against his bed, lost in the memories of his time with his brother. He wishes that Damian would send a reply already. He had remembered to put a return address, right? Maybe he should’ve just used the house’s address instead of setting up that PO box in the next town over! It’s not like anyone ever claimed to be reliable delivery persons!

Waiting was always the worst part of anything. Waiting for Grandfather to speak when he’d called an audience; waiting for Mother to tell them the end of her story; waiting for the guards to show any weak point to sneak past; waiting for a mission to start. It was always agonizing.

*

The morning was cold. Colder than it had been, but not as cold as it could be. Unfortunately, the cold meant snow. Snow meant that it was way too bright outside. And, despite it not being the morning of a school day, Jazz had elected to wake Danny up at the horrible time of six-thirty in the morning. Later than the normal five-forty-five, but still way too early to reasonably be awake. Honestly, Danny had thought he was done with getting up with the sun, but Jazz had proved him wrong time and time again for nearly five years now.

She pulled the curtains open, letting in the light from the sun that reflected off the white embodiment of cold. When that only caused him to burrow deeper into his three blankets and two pillows and his dog plush, Jazz decided to pull all three layers off of him.

“Hey!” he yelped, falling off the bed with a thud. “What the heck!”

Jaz dropped the blankets with a smile. “Rise and shine sleeping beauty! Mom and dad are in the lab again-”

“Another ‘breakthrough’?”

“-so I’m making breakfast! What do you want?”

Danny groaned and pulled himself off the floor, resetting the blankets on his bed in a mock of making it look neat. “Something warm.”

“How does hot chocolate and pancakes sound?”

“Can I have coffee instead?”

“No.”

“Dang.”

Jazz shook her head and left the room. “Don’t go back to sleep, okay? I wanna go to the library today.” She didn’t close the door behind her.

“Isn’t it closed today?” he called into the hall.

“Tomorrow!”

“Ah.” He closed the door himself, letting out a small puff of air. Turning to the room at large with his hands on his hips, Danny sighed. It was gonna be a long day. The first thing he did was straighten out his bed so it looked properly not slept in. Just as Mother had taught him. Then, he changed from his pajamas and into some jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Leaving his room, he made his way to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, only really bothering to push a hand through his hair. Not at all like Mother had taught him, but he really didn’t care right now.

Danny made his way down the stairs sluggishly. He’d never been a morning person, much preferring to stay awake until the early hours of the morning watching stars, but he’d had to hide that little quirk when he was with Grandfather and Mother. He’d realized, about half a year after the Fentons picked him up, that he didn’t need to hide his preference for night over day. Infact, his mom encouraged it! She let him sit up on the roof and stargaze until one or two in the morning before forcing him to bed. And then Jazz got into the habit of waking him at six in the morning for school. He’s definitely run on less sleep than four-ish hours, but he’d rather get as much as he can, which is what breaks are for! Unfortunately, Jazz has it in her head that he has to get up at the same time every day without fail, lest he irreparably mess up his sleeping schedule.

With a groan, he plopped down on his chair - in a bout of pettiness a year and a half after arriving, he carved his name into the wood of the backrest - at the table and laid his head down. His sister worked efficiently on the pancakes as the water for their hot chocolate boiled in the electric kettle.

The two sat and worked in a quiet peace. Jazz’s bustling around the kitchen faded into the background as white noise with the constant hum of electricity throughout the house and the occasional controlled explosion from the basement lab. It was well fortified, so the house wasn’t in danger.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of laying on the table with his eyes closed, Jazz put a plate by Danny’s head, a mug of hot chocolate with a candy cane beside it. Then, she sat opposite him with her own food.

“Thanks,” he mumbled groggily, pulling the food and drink towards him.

“You’re welcome.” Jazz said around a bite.

Danny would be the first to admit that Jazz wasn’t the best cook, but he was also the first to praise her cooking. Jack Fenton couldn’t make anything, that wasn’t fudge, for the life of him. Any food he tries to make, somehow turns to fudge. Kind of like King Midas’ Golden Touch. Maddie Fenton was a pretty good cook, when she remembered to actually feed herself and her family. She could make cookies worthy of the gods, though. Whenever the Fenton parents weren’t in their basement lab for one reason or another, they ordered takeout to eat with their kids. Those times were, unfortunately, few and far between.

Finishing his meal, Danny was wide awake, the food doing wonders for waking him. And, while the caffeine in chocolate was nothing compared to the coffee his dad would sometimes let him drink, there was just enough to wake him up just a bit more. Don’t tell Jazz, though, or she might take away chocolate, too.

“Do you,” he hesitated, the words caught in his throat for a moment, “Do you think mom and dad will be up to celebrating this year?”

When he was seven, he learned that the Fentons didn’t celebrate any holiday, no matter what it was. They had up until Jazz was five, but then work became more important. Jack and Maddie had claimed breakthroughs in their research, pushing everything and everyone aside if it or they didn’t directly help their life’s work.

That same year, he’d been trying to acclimate himself better. One of the biggest things in American culture is holidays, so he decided to ask to celebrate Christmas. It was mainstream and was derived from one of the only holidays he was allowed to celebrate back in Nanda Parbat.

Jack and Maddie had agreed, of course, and he and Jazz had pulled out all the old decorations to dress the house. When December twenty-fourth came around, though, their parents had gotten into a huge fight about whether to tell Danny and Jazz that Santa wasn’t real. Jack had said it was a right of passage for little kids to figure it out all on their lonesome, while Maddie had argued that she wasn’t going to let her children believe in fairy tales that parents tell to get their kids to sleep faster. They were loud enough that Jazz and Danny had both heard every word.

The two tried, every holiday, to get their parents to spend time with them, at least, but it failed every time. Something or other aways came up.

“I don’t know, Danny,” she sighed, putting her fork on her now empty plate, “You can try, but I doubt it.” She’d given up last year, right around the time that she’d picked up on reading parenting books.

Danny didn’t say anything. He simply stood and gathered the dishes, taking them to the sink to be washed before putting them away. The dishwasher had been ripped apart and repurposed for parts in the lab.

“I know that you want to celebrate like the other kids in town,” Jazz said from the table, “but mom and dad are way too focused right now. Mom mentioned something about working on the portal some more.”

Danny put the cup down carefully, a loud click sounding through the kitchen. With a controlled breath, he closed his eyes and turned off the tap. “There were exactly two holidays that me and my brother were allowed to celebrate when we were children. Christmas is taken from one of those holidays. Forgive me for just wanting to share a piece of that with them.”

He could feel Jazz’s sad gaze on his back. “What holidays?”

“Forget it,” he shook his head, “Let’s just go to the library.”

She let it drop. “It doesn’t open for a few more hours.”

He started up the stairs. “Then come get me when it’s time to go.” Danny ignored Jazz’s responding sigh as he walked up to his room. Closing the door behind him, he grabbed some paper and a pencil.

In Nanda Parbat, one of the instructors was set to teach Danny and his brother the Fine Arts. From writing to painting to instruments to acting. All so that they could adapt to any mold for any mission. Because they were the heirs, the Demon Twins of the monster that was the organization, they were expected to be perfect. Anything less was punished.

Damian had always excelled at the Arts, especially drawing and its counterparts. He could work with any median, but charcoal had always been his favorite. Danny, too, had excelled with the Arts, but anything that happened on a stage had been his specialty.

Whenever he missed his brother, or any aspect of Before, too much, Danny would sit down and draw. He’d thought about asking his parents for an instrument of some kind, the cello always having been his favorite, but he decided against it. So, he drew. He didn’t have a dedicated sketch book, and no one but himself would ever see anything he made, but it was a nice outlet.

He wondered if Damian did something similar, now that he was with father. Did he play instruments or read plays when he thought of Danny? Did he allow his new siblings to see what he made or listen to his voice?

Three hours passed by in a blink, only one page being covered. It was a nice memory he’d drawn of the blacksmith’s hut away from the main base. In the picture, he and Damian were learning to forge their own daggers. Damian’s had turned out unbalanced and two inches too short. Danny’s had been only half an inch too long with a slightly too short grip.

Jazz knocked on the door as she cracked it open. “Hey,” she greeted quietly.

Danny covered tha paper. “Hey.”

“Are you ready to head out? We can stop by Tasty Burger for lunch?”

“Sure,” he nodded, moving to stand in a way that prevented the paper from showing to Jazz. He hid it in his nightstand to be moved to the box with the others later. “Let’s go.”

Nodding, she led the way.

It was a quick walk, only twenty minutes from their house to the library, but it was cold and bright. The snow only made the area brighter, but it was comfortable to him; familiar. What was really irritating was the cars and the people and the buildings. Danny had been raised very far from all of these things, only ever going near them when on a mission, and it was only a few hours at a time in those instances. No matter how long he lived in a city or town, whatever it was called, though, he would never get used to the noise.

The sidewalks were crowded with holiday shoppers not insane enough to go out on the twenty-fourth, but crazy enough to go out on the twenty-third. The streets were slick and traffic was slow, especially for a morning. Christmas decorations lined every window and tree and building face, holiday music carried on the wind four or five different songs mixing into one over and under the voices of the people on the sidewalks.

“C’mon,” Jazz tugged him into the public library by his hand. She had four books tucked under her arm, two on psychology, one on parenting, and one on dragons.

Danny followed after her, not quite dragging his feet, but making it apparent that he would rather not be there.

“Good morning, you two!” the librarian smiled when they made their way to her desk. She was a cheerful woman, always wearing a smile, though she had never once worn a nametag or introduced herself.

“Good morning!” Jazz matched the woman’s energy with a smile, dropping Danny’s hand and putting the four books up on the counter.

The woman took the books to scan them back into the system. “Are you looking to check out more books today?”

“Yep! Just so I have something to do over Winter Break.”

“You’re a kid, there’s lots for you to do!”

“I know, but I like reading.”

“I get it. Let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Okay, we will!” Jazz took Danny’s hand again and pulled him off into the forest of shelves, straight to the parenting section.

Danny hid his scowl as he watched Jazz search through the parenting books. “You’re twelve, Jazz-”

“Almost thirteen.”

“-you’re not supposed to be looking at these kinds of books until eighteen at the earliest.”

She didn’t stop her search. “You’re eleven, Danny, you should be acting like a kid.”

“But I wasn’t raised as a kid.”

“Exactly why you should take the opportunity now!”

He groaned. It was an ongoing argument between the two. “I don’t need you to look after me, Jazz. We’re both kids, so we should be reading books that kids do! Leave the parenting up to our parents.”

“Our parents who don’t even celebrate holidays?”

“Jazz-”

“Look, Danny, I know you’re worried about me growing up too fast or whatever, but I like these books.” She pulled one off the shelf before turning to look at him. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll only get one parenting book.”

It didn’t. He’d rather her get none. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna get some psychology books, though, and you can’t stop me.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he said. She ignored him.

“The human mind is really interesting. Did you know that the size of a human brain has decreased since the time when we were hunters and gatherers?”

“Has it?” He loved when she got like this, talking about things that interest her.

She nodded rapidly. “Mhmm! By a whole ten percent!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! And most artists like working at night because humans are more creative during the night rather than during the day.”

“What?” He raised his eyebrow in good humor to tell her that he was joking, “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is!” she insisted, leading the way over to the tables in the middle of the large room with two psychology books and a parenting book under her arm. “And, look!” she grabbed a paper and pencil and wrote down ‘Yuo cna’t sotp me form radenig prnatneig bokos.’ in big letters. “Because we read words instead of individual letters, as long as the first and last letters are in the proper spots, and all the letters are there, it doesn’t matter what the rest of the word looks like, especially if you’ve been reading for a while or if you’re reading fast. You’re still able to read the word as though it were completely correct.”

“That’s actually really cool.”

“Right?” Her grin was so worth it. Her grin would always be worth it. “C’mon, let’s go get yo some books now.”

Danny grabbed Jazz’s hand and led the way this time. He took them over to the books about space and started to look through them. He’d always loved space as a whole, but stars had always held a special place for him.

He picked a book about astrology. “I heard some of the girls at school talking about magic and stuff and how people’s personalities are affected by what star sign they were born under.”

Jazz scrunched her nose a bit. “I’ve heard some people at school talk about that stuff, too. Do you think it’s true?”

“I think it’d be worth a look.” He took another book off the shelf, this one talking about both ancient and modern witchcraft. “The psychological implications are interesting, too.” That would get her to show a bit more interest.

“Really?”

“Really.”

She paused. “Mind if I take a look when you’re done?”

“I’d be happy to have a whole conversation about it when we’ve both finished reading our books.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The last stop before checking out their chosen books was in the fairy tail section of the library. Their dad loved fairy tales, but their mom refused to let them have any of the books in the house. She claimed that there was no such thing as magic and that any ‘magic’ was done by ghosts. Danny had to hide his amusement whenever that particular argument was bright up because he knew for a fact that the supernatural and magic go hand in hand more often than not. He wasn’t about to tell her that, though.

The book they chose was one they both wanted to read, not wanting to risk mom finding one fairy tale in the house, let alone two. It was a compilation of the Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales. Dark stories, they both knew, but that just made them all the more enticing.

Checking out went much the same as checking in, with the added bonus of the librarian giving them a cloth tote bag to carry their six books in. She also gave them the name of a small magic shop on the other side of town that had some tarot cards in stock if Danny was interested.

As promised, Jazz had taken some money from their mom’s purse to stop by the Tasty Burger for lunch. They both ordered the chicken nuggets and a milkshake, Jazz getting chocolate and Danny getting strawberry. Then, when they were done eating, they walked hand in hand back to their home.

Danny stopped at the mailbox, not moving to follow Jazz or to open the thing. Did he dare check? He didn’t want to get his hopes up. What if Damian hadn’t gotten the letter like he both feared and hoped? What if he had? Would there be a response? Would Damian ever want a relationship with him?

“Hey,” Jazz tugged his hand, “What’s wrong?”

He bit his lip, a show of nervousness that would’ve been punished in Nanda Parbat. He inhaled. “What if there’s no response? What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? It’s been almost five years.”

It took a moment before Jazz clocked what he was talking about. She let go of his hand to hold his shoulders. “How about this; You go inside and wait and I’ll get the mail, okay?”

Danny nodded and slowly trudged into the house. Why had he even sent that stupid letter? He flopped onto the couch. Damian probably hates him for not returning to his side.

He didn’t have time to mope any longer because Jaz threw the front door open with a shout. “Danny!” She was suddenly right beside him, shoving a letter into his hands. “There’s a letter for you!”

After a moment to process, Danny’s shaky hands ripped the envelope open and pulled out the paper inside. The single sheet was folded into three perfect rectangles, the black ink of a pen unsmudged and perfectly spaced. Just as Mother had taught.

***

Danyal ‘Danny’ Fenton,                         Dec. 21, 2011

You have a very extravagant story. Whatever made you believe that exchanging letters was the most secure way of contact? An idiotic move that my brother would, unfortunately, absolutely make. Either you are him, or you are a clone. Either way, I’m not likely to believe you, so do not mistake this as such. Your admitted honesty is welcomed, though not believed.

My welcome into the Wayne Family was quite a public affair and aired all over the country, so I guess I should thank you for the congratulations, as is socially acceptable in this situation as well as others like it. Bruce Wayne being my father is not a surprise, given his public image and his tendency to take any stray whelp he sees into his home. Though I will have you know that I am the only blood child in the household.

Announcing your stalling while writing a letter is completely unnecessary, especially as that was your first correspondence. Had you simply left that out, I would never have been the wiser. Another mistake you’ve made in accordance with my brother.

Having read over your letter several times, I have come to several conclusions. With the resources I have at my disposal, I have determined that there is a good chance you are who you say you are. Understanding who I am, and who my brother is, the rest of this response is written under the foolish  ̶h̶o̶p̶e̶ assumption that you are who you claim to be.

I could never hate you, Danyal, nor could I ever ignore this chance I have been presented with. Getting out was the best thing you could’ve done for yourself. Coming back from that mission, having failed and lost you, broke something in Mother. She was both harsher and more clingy, hovering whenever she could and pushing more than ever. Grandfather was even less pleased that you hadn’t returned, though he only ever acknowledged you as a failure and a mistake. He made it known that he would’ve killed you, had you ever miraculously returned to Nanda Parbat.

I am glad that you got help. I am glad that you are living safely and that you have found a place to be at peace.

You are a coward, but you are more deserving of praise and forgiveness than you seem to believe. I thought you had died on that mission, Danyal. For that, I can’t ever forgive you, but I could never hate you. I can forgive you for making me return on my own. I can forgive you for being selfish and leaving me alone, but I will never forgive you for making me mourn you. You hurt me in ways that I never thought I could ever be hurt, in ways that I may never be hurt again.

Grandfather and Mother never allowed a grave to be made. They didn’t let me keep anything of yours either. They erased you. It was like you had never been there. I was never allowed to properly mourn you. That alone almost ended me.

Father knows nothing of you. Mother did not tell him, nor will I. I did not wish to make him or our siblings mourn a child they would never meet. If you so choose to tell him, then you may. I, however, will not be playing the messenger.

أرجو أن تسامحني على اعتقادي بأنك ميت. أرجوك سامحني لأنني لم أحزن عليك كما ينبغي. أرجوك سامحني لأنني لم أبحث عنك، فالعودة لم تكن خياراً متاحاً. كان يجب أن أجعله خياراً                     Damian Wayne

Translation 1 - Arabic :: Thank you for being my brother.

Translation 2 - Romanian :: Damn it!

Translation 3 - Arabic :: Please forgive me for thinking you were dead. Please forgive me for not mourning you properly. Please forgive me for not looking for you, coming back was not an option. I should have made it an option

Storyboard Part 2

[vivwritesfics]

Handheld Camera

Tyler's best friend and camera person screwing a member of Storm Par? More likely than you think

Warnings: smut, p in v, hate fucking I guess, sex tape, unprotected sex, possible pregnancy

2.7K

"What're you doing?"

The handheld camera was pointed at Tyler as he walked towards her. When he stepped forward, she stepped back, keeping all of him in frame.

It had been a good ride, and she had videoed all of it. Both rounds were on her camera, ready for to be edited and gifted to Tyler. He reached for it, trying to snatch it out of her hands, but she stepped back.

"Come on, Ty!" She said as she stopped filming and put the camera down. "These are gonna be gold when you're a famous bull rider."

That had him grinning as he wrapped his arms around her and led her back to his truck. He wasn't going to tell her that he was rethinking a career as a bull rider, that he was thinking of going to school.

She spent the night clipping up the videos, perfecting the audio and piecing them together. She could have posted it online, drawn more people to Tyler's name.

But she held back. That was a conversation for later.

A conversation that would never come. Before she knew it, Tyler was off to study meteorology and she was, well, left behind.

Left in Oklahoma, working in her parents cafe. She watched the sky as she wiped down tables, thinking of him. Did he miss her as much as she was missing him?

Of course, he came home in the holidays. But he wasn't riding, anymore. He just watched storms, chased them.

At first, she was reluctant to go with him. Why would she throw herself into danger like that? But it had never been easy, saying no to Tyler Owens. Not when he gave her that look that guaranteed fun.

On the first chase, she'd been too scared to do anything other than hold onto her seat. On the second chase, she'd had her camera out the entire time, filming the storm and Tyler.

He was so natural in front of the camera, his personality shining. An idea sparked in her head, one that wouldn't come to fruition just yet.

That came after college, when Tyler was home for good. He was a little lost in what to do next, wanted to do something meaningful with his life. A terrible time to bring up storm chasing on YouTube.

But then they drove through a town, so full of devastation. They stopped, helped where they could, but there wasn't much. Finding people and lost pets.

That was when the idea came to life.

"We start a storm chasing YouTube Channel. We live stream, take the footage for the streams, and clip them up into videos. Ty, we could make so much money." He opened his mouth to protest, but she beat him to it. "And that money could go towards helping people. People who have been ruined by tornadoes."

Tyler went to shake his head, but then he thought about it. "You'd handle the filming and the editing, and I get to just chase storms?"

A grin split across her face. "Exactly, Ty."

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, looking like some fucked up rabbit. "I'm gonna regret this," he mumbled and shook his head. "I have a condition."

"Lay it on me."

He stared at her, green eyes sparkling as he let his grin match her own. "I get to put my face on a tee-shirt."

***

Storm Par.

They weren't exactly trouble, more a nuisance. Always getting in the way of a good chase. It made for entertaining videos, if they were allowed to upload them.

They couldn't help what they captured on livestream. But that email she had received from a member of the Storm Par legal team had her editing the white trucks out of any clips she had before she uploaded them onto YouTube.

She remembered the first time she laid eyes on him.

Her camera was in front of her face, capturing footage of the storm to later use in the video. It was beautiful, something she didn't understand as well as Tyler.

But then she zoomed out, captured the storm with the wheat field beneath it. And the man in the hat and sunglasses. The tall man, who she could tell was scowling. He didn't even need to remove his glasses.

Ending the recording, she lowered the camera and looked at him. "Can I help you?" She asked, voice a little snippier than she meant for it to be.

He pulled his glasses off of his nose and let his expression soften as he looked at her. What was he thinking? What thoughts were turning over in his mind.

"You like storms?" He asked. For just a second, it sounded like a pickup line.

She looked down at her camera? "Like storms?" A grin crossed her face. "Oh, no. I record them because I hate them."

The sarcasm wasn't missed. It wasn't unappreciated, either. He stepped closer and tucked his glasses into the breast pocket of his white shirt. "I actually chase storms," he said. "As my job."

"Really?" Her eyebrows shot up. This was before Storm Par and Tyler's little gang of chasers were really aware of each other. They knew one another was out there, getting in each others way, but not more than that. "Must be exciting."

"It is," he answered. "You get right up close to the danger."

"Is that all you do? Just chase them?"

He shook his head. "My team and I study them. We collect data on them to... help people." The way he said it, the way he paused. He knew he was spouting shit.

Before she could say anything more to the man from Storm Par (their hottest member, if you held a gun to her head and asked her), Tyler called her name. "We gotta go!" He shouted.

The man's eyes widened. "See ya, Storm Par," she said and saluted to him with just two fingers. She left him standing there as she ran over to Tyler's truck and climbed into the passenger seat.

They encountered each other on the chase, him staring at her through the window. Every time she pointed her camera at him, he looked back at the road.

Storm Par turned left at the fork in the road, and they turned right. Storm Par's tornado died, but theirs stayed strong. She buckled herself in and held the camera up as they drove into the tornado.

Storm Par parked up at the same motel they did. She locked eyes with him as she climbed out of the truck.

It was almost like he couldn't stop himself as he strode towards her. "You work with a bunch of cowboys," he said and chewed the gum in his mouth.

She released a flirtatious giggle. "Thank you," she said and blinked at him. His sunglasses no longer sat on his face and she could finally see his pretty eyes. They really were pretty. "You work with a bunch of stuck up assholes." She looked him up and down. "And you're the biggest stuck up asshole of them all."

Suddenly she was against the wall and his lips were against hers. The way she ran her fingers through his hair was almost feverish, knocking his hat from his head as he pressed his hips against hers.

"I can't fucking stand you," he growled out between kisses.

"I hate you too."

But he pulled her away from the wall and up to his room. It was nothing fancy, just a bed, a television, and a dingy bathroom. It was an exact copy of her own room, but that wasn't what she cared about at he threw her onto the bed.

That night was the first time they hooked up. He pulled down her jeans and discarded them on the floor, along with her shirt. She didn't even know his name as she rolled onto her stomach.

He grabbed her hips and held her up, thumb stroking over her skin as he entered her. That was sweet. The kisses he dropped onto her back were sweet.

But that was where the sweetness stopped. He snapped his hips against hers, setting a brutal pace. The bed beneath them squeaked, but it was drowned out by her whines and moans, her cries for more.

He grunted, tipping his head back. Sweat dripped down his face and his grip on her was bruising. She was loving every second of it.

Her legs spasmed, giving out ad she came. She clenched around him, the only thing holding her up being his strong grip. But he kept coming, kept burning the tip of his cock between her spongy walls.

But he was getting sloppy, his thrusts deeper, holding himself inside of her for longer. His breaths came out in short pants, spilling himself inside of her.

Breathless, he let go of her, let her collapse onto the bed. He fell down beside her, neither of them touching.

Her mouth was dry, throat somewhat sore as she looked at him. This wasn't how things were supposed to be post sex. She shivered as she shuffled closer, not close enough to touch.

"What's your name?" She asked, the question barely audible.

"Scott," he answered and shuffled back against the headboard.

The way he was staring down at her, she couldn't tell what he wanted. If he wanted her to get up and leave, or stay for a moment longer and tell him her name.

She was thinking too hard and too much, Scott decided as he scooted down the bed. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against his chest. "This can't happen again," he said as she let her hand settle against his beating heart.

"No," she agreed, voice croaking. "It can't."

Spoiler alert, it happened again.

They weren't always after the same tornado, weren't always on the same chase. But every time that red truck pulled in where they were, Scott couldn't help the way his heartbeat quickened.

If they were chasing the same storm, they ended up in each others bed.

At first, it was just sex. Sex with cuddling after (because Scott knew she needed it). But it turned into something more when he sat there reading while she edited their videos.

"I've had an idea," she said one evening as she let Scott into her hotel room. Her camera was in her hand, held down by her side.

Scott's stomach dropped. "We're not making a sex tape," he immediately said as he sat on the bed and toed off his shoes.

Sinking into his lap, she wrapped her arms around him. "C'mon, Scott. I just want to get a quick video of how hot you look while I'm riding you. Just for the Scott files."

The Scott files. A collection of every time she had edited him out of their videos. The collection of angry faces had turned into him unable to hide his smile.

Grinning, she pushed him down onto the bed. Scott held her hips as he looked up at her, the camera already in front of her face. The red light flashed as she began moving her hips.

Scott squeezed her hips but gave nothing away on his face. So, she put the camera down and unbuttoned his shirt.

He laid there, let her work. She unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall open. Grabbing the camera, she held it in front of her face once again, filming herself dragging her nails down his chest.

Throwing his head back, Scott let out a throaty moan. She caught it all on camera.

She opened his trousers and freed him. Scott sucked in a breath as she wrapped her fingers around him. The camera stayed focused on his face as she pumped her hand once, twice and then released him.

His eyes flew open and he glared down at her. But it was short lived. She put down the camera and began stripping off. The moment she grabbed the bottom of her shirt, Scott reached for the camera and held it up, capturing her as she stripped.

She was gorgeous. Scott already knew that, but this he wanted to keep forever.

Dropping her underwear, she reached for the camera once again. "Give it," she said and snatched it away from him.

Sitting on his lap, she concentrated the camera back on his face and ground against him. "Fuck," he breathed and reached for her hips. "Please, cowgirl."

Cowgirl. When had he started calling her that? It had started as an insult, she knew that much. But she loved it. Lifting her hips, Scott positioned himself beneath her and she sank herself down onto him.

Scott sucked in a breath. The camera was trained on him as she began to move. He gripped her hips, helping her to keep a steady rhythm.

She tried to keep the camera trained on Scott as she rode him. But it kept dropping, and it took her a moment to get it focused back on his face. But Scott took the camera from her hands. He put it down on the bed, pulled her to lay against him, and took charge.

The camera kept recording on the bed. It didn't capture much, and the audio wasn't as clear as she wanted it to be. When Scott came, throwing his head back, the camera just about caught it.

***

"Have you got yesterdays footage?" Tyler asked as he walked into her motel room.

Folding her arms over her chest, she grinned as she looked at her best friend. "Yesterdays footage, huh?" She asked and cocked her eyebrow. "What do you want with that?"

Tyler held his hands up in defence, but he was grinning. "Just science, I swear," he said quickly.

Just science and Kate was how she read it. Ever since they'd met Kate, Tyler had requested more footage than he usually wanted to see. But she didn't mind. Tyler was a lonely guy; she was going to do anything she could to help him get some.

"Yeah, it's on my laptop," she said and pointed to her desk.

Tyler walked over to the laptop. He opened the lid and typed in her password (of course he knew it, it was the same password as their YouTube Channel).

The laptop took a moment to load up. It was old, and she was putting a small fund together to get a new one, a better one for video editing. Her editing software opened, the screen blank for a moment.

But then the last thing she was working on, the last video she was editing, came up on her laptop.

"What the hell is this?"

She turned on her heel. There it was on her laptop screen, the video she had taken all those weeks ago. The editing process had been slow, since Scott would watch over her shoulder, start kissing her neck and pull her onto the bed.

Tyler looked back at her. He knew the face on the screen, the man that was staring at the camera as he moaned. "Is that Storm Par?" He asked. "Are you sleeping with Storm Par?"

She swallowed. But then she steadied herself, holding her head up high. "So what if I am?"

Tyler shrugged his shoulders. "Sleep with whoever," he said and clicked out of the editing software, minimising the screen. He didn't need to be seeing that. "As long as he's good to you and you're not getting hurt, you can sleep with who you want."

She released a deep, relieved breath. Hiding all of this from Tyler had been no easy task. She'd almost slipped up, almost mentioned something 'she and Scott' had seen the night before.

Tyler opened his arms and she fell into them, holding her best friend close. "He's not hurting you, is he?"

She shook her head. "He's good to me, Ty," she mumbled and shut her eyes. It felt so good to be in Tyler's arms again.

Neither of them were aware of how late her period was.

[luvzshy]

Could you do Billie talking about reader in the yearly interview

A/n: I did 5 years of relationship, I'm crazy about lasting relationships sorry😭🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️🏃🏻‍♀️‍➡️ anyway enjoy ml 💕💕✨

Journey of Love

Year 1:

Billie sat in her usual chair, surrounded by the soft glow of the set lights that felt both familiar and intimidating. The Vanity Fair interview had become an annual ritual, a chance to reflect on her journey as an artist and a person. But this year, there was a flutter of nerves deep in her stomach.

When the interviewer leaned in with the first personal question, Billie’s heart raced. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Her instinct was to deflect, to keep her private life close to her chest, but instead, she felt a warmth spread across her face. “Yeah,” she said, unable to keep the smile from her lips. “I am.”

The interviewer’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Anyone special?”

Billie’s smile deepened. “She’s incredible. Not in the industry. She helps me feel… normal.” The truth of those words hung in the air. You were the calm in her storm, someone who didn’t care about the fame, someone who simply loved her for who she was.

In the quiet moments, Billie found solace in your laughter and your gentle teasing, the way you’d roll your eyes when she tried to show you the latest music video she’d shot. You brought her back to reality, reminding her that beneath the glitz and glam, she was still just Billie—flawed, messy, and utterly human.

Year 2:

Fast forward to a year later, and Billie settled into her chair with a sense of ease. The nerves were still there, but they were accompanied by a confidence she hadn’t had before. It was as if being with you had given her the strength to embrace both her vulnerability and her power.

“Last year, you mentioned being in a relationship. How’s that going?” the interviewer asked, a knowing smile on their face.

Billie leaned forward, her excitement bubbling over. “It’s going really well. We’ve been together for over a year now.” The words felt like a promise, a declaration of her love.

“It’s been… transformative. She gets me in a way that no one else does. We balance each other out.” Billie’s voice softened as she thought of you—the way you listened without judgment, the way your fingers entwined with hers felt like home.

The memories flooded her mind: lazy Sundays spent wrapped in each other’s arms, your gentle touch as you brushed your fingers through her hair while you both watched the rain fall outside. In those moments, she could forget about the world and simply exist.

“She’s my best friend,” Billie added, her smile widening. “We support each other through everything. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Year 3:

A year later, Billie felt like she was living a dream. Three years together felt like a significant milestone, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. As she settled into the familiar chair, she could sense the anticipation in the air.

“So, Billie, how is your relationship evolving?” the interviewer prompted.

Billie couldn’t hide her grin. “We’ve grown so much together. It’s like… every day brings us closer. She’s been my rock, especially during some tough times.” Her heart swelled with gratitude for you.

Billie reflected on the challenges she faced in her career—the pressures, the expectations—and how you had been there through it all. When the world felt heavy, you’d remind her to breathe, to take a step back and enjoy the little moments. Whether it was cooking dinner together or simply sitting in silence, your presence was grounding.

“She makes me laugh like no one else,” Billie continued, her eyes lighting up. “We can be completely silly together, and it just feels… right. It’s like we have our own little world.”

Year 4:

By the fourth year, Billie was no longer shy about discussing her love life. Sitting across from the interviewer, she felt an undeniable sense of peace.

“You’ve been together for four years now. How has that changed you?” they asked.

Billie took a deep breath, her heart fluttering as she thought of you. “It’s changed everything,” she admitted. “I’ve learned so much about love, commitment, and what it means to truly support someone.”

She recalled nights spent talking until dawn, sharing dreams and fears, and how those conversations had strengthened their bond. You understood her in a way that made her feel seen and valued. In your eyes, she wasn’t just an artist; she was Billie—the girl who loved music, who adored quiet evenings, and who could get lost in a good book.

“We’ve talked about the future,” Billie said, her voice softening. “I think we both want the same things. It’s exciting.” The thought of building a life with you filled her with joy.

Year 5:

Now, as she sat in the chair for the fifth year, Billie felt a deep sense of contentment. The world around her continued to spin wildly, but with you by her side, everything felt manageable.

The interviewer leaned in, their expression curious. “After five years together, what’s your biggest takeaway?”

Billie smiled, her heart swelling with love. “She’s my person. I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s been there through everything, and we’ve built something real, something lasting.”

Her mind raced through the memories: lazy mornings wrapped in blankets, deep conversations about life, and quiet nights filled with laughter. You were the one who saw her—who loved her flaws and all. You made her feel safe in a way she had never known before.

“She inspires me every day,” Billie continued, her eyes glistening with emotion. “Being with her makes me want to be better—not just as an artist, but as a person. I’m so grateful for her.”

As the interview wrapped up, Billie felt a rush of gratitude wash over her. You were more than just a girlfriend; you were her partner, her confidante, and the love of her life. In a world that often felt chaotic and overwhelming, you were her anchor.

And as she walked off set, Billie couldn’t wait to tell you about the day, about how much you meant to her, and how every moment spent with you felt like magic.

[puppy-phum]

Pit Babe Characters x Cartomancy ➣ Part 1: Charlie & Babe

Five of Spades: Focusing on self, putting own interests first. A reminder of your self-worth. Ace of Hearts: New beginnings; new relationship and love. A chance for something better.

for @pitbabeanniversary week 1 prompts: charlie & babe

(more thoughts under the cut!)

disclaimer: i am not an expert in either cartomancy or tarot reading. i did a lot of research on these two sites to come up with these cards for the characters. some of the meanings associated with the cards are still only my own interpretation, so they might not be completely accurate.

as ppl who know me probably can tell, i am (despite my lack of knowledge most often) a huge nerd who loves this type of stuff (personality tests, astrology, mysticism etc.). most of all, i love analyzing stories and characters, and so this idea was born. never thought i'd approach it through pit babe though, yet here we are.

thoughts on my picks for charlie and babe:

charlie: it was hard to pick a card for charlie, but behind all the happiness and sunshine, i think the defining characteristic for charlie is (self-)sacrifice. while growing up under tony's "care", charlie learned that he was worth less: less than other (special) alphas, less than other tony's children, less than the world beyond the house, and of course, less than someone as perfect as babe. and so as he leaves the house and embarks on this adventure to help babe and set them all free, he assumes he must sacrifice himself to accomplish those things. his sacrifice comes in many forms, yet even the most ultimate one (his death) does not seem to bother charlie.

based on these thoughts, i found it fitting that charlie's card would remind him of his own worth and make him think about his own (selfish?) desires. he's not just a body thrown at tony's feet to keep others safe – he's also a human with his own hopes and dreams, with his own purpose. he seems to find this with babe (and the rest of the x-hunter pack) and learns to accept himself as someone who cannot be replaced and who can just live for himself.

babe: for babe, the card felt more obvious. first of all, it was clear to me that babe would get one of the hearts – he is, above all else, an emotion driven person. he is arrogant, confident, proud, ambitious, and even aggressive at times, but he is also a boy searching for love. i know that he's learned that love doesn't come without conditions; that whenever love is offered, people ask for something (most often painful) in return. and so as the show starts, babe's motivation to go on this journey isn't victory or fame as he already has those, but love. what he lacks in life is love, and that's what life decides to gift him.

so this thing with charlie offers him a new chance, a new beginning, where things seem better and easier. of course it doesn't last, and they fail at times at love as charlie's lies get revealed and other ppl betray them, but eventually they head towards something better. the newly found intimacy and love with charlie changes babe's life and also changes him as a person. he becomes softer, happier. he learns that he can be loved unconditionally and that there are ppl out there who are willing to stand beside him even when he's not pit babe or a special alpha with special senses or tony's perfect son capable of anything (or worth a million bahts).

and then these two as a pair? i cannot say much about it bc i cannot read cards, unfortunately. but i find it interesting (and very fitting) that charlie and babe belong to the suits of spades and hearts. charlie brings with himself trouble, pain, and challenges (unintentionally and he'd rather hold those at bay but well, his past follows him everywhere). there are also hints of obsession and fear on charlie's side. meanwhile, babe is filled with emotion, both positive and negative, and he is tightly tied to all the relationships in his life. he is the heart of the pack in a sense, and so thinking of him as the beginning of emotion, as the ace of hearts, feels suitable. he is the new beginning for everyone bc babe is the one who pulls charlie in who bring with himself the change for the whole pack and other ppl involved with them.

(if someone more knowledgeable about cartomancy or tarot who also enjoys pit babe stumbles upon this, feel free to come share more thoughts with me!)

[fandoms--fluff]

I was wondering if you could write more Salvatore teenage reader x Damon and Stefan Salvatore I love the other ones so much

Fun Day

Flufftober, October 2nd

Younger Salvatore sister reader x Damon Salvatore x Stefan Salvatore

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on Day, It'll be fun" You try persuading him. "Sorry, little munchkin, not happening" Damon tells you and starts walking down the hall.

You roll your eyes at the nickname and follow him. "Please? You'd only have to stay for an hour, tops!" You exclaim. He keeps walking. "Fine, I guess me and Stefan will only go" You say sadly, casting your head down.

Damon pauses and turns around, sighing.

"Fine. When are we going?" He crosses his arms. "Now" You smirk and grasp onto his hand. You lead him downstairs where Stefan's waiting by the door.

You roped Stefan into going with you easily. All you had to do was flash him he puppy dog eyes and hold one of his journals captive before he agreed.

"Got him to cave in?" He smirked. "Of course I did" You smile and keep dragging your oldest brother out to where his car is parked. Stefan follows, closing the big wooden door behind himself.

You climb into the back seat behind the drivers seat, a smile lighting up your face. Stefan sits in the passenger seat while Damon turns the keys in the ignition.

The Camaro roars to life, Damon driving to the requested location. After no longer than ten minutes, he parks the car at the side of the road and groans into the steering wheel.

"This is where you really want to spend your time, and waste mine in the time being" Damon looks in the rearview mirror back at you.

"Yes, now put on your happy, cheery face and let's go have fun." You tell him.

You guys walk up to the entrance of the town carnival. Lights are flashing and people laughing fill the air. "Oh come on you big grump, lets have fun. You too my, mopey. broody, younger older brother" You grab both their arms and drag them in.

You somehow manage to drag them onto the bumper cars ride and the ferris wheel. And now you're waling around with a massive bag of pink cotton candy.

"How do you like that stuff?" Damon says, a disgusted look taking over his face. Stefan chuckles seeing your offended facial expression.

"All it is is sugar" Damon tells you. "That's exactly why I love it" You rip off another piece and pop it in your mouth, letting it melt on your tongue.

Your eyes roam around the carnival before they land on the balloon dart game. "Ooh, that looks like fun" You clasp your hand onto Stefan's wrist and drag him over to the game booth.

"Y/n/n, you're clawing me" Stefan winces as he feels your nails dig into his skin. Damon chuckles at his little brother's expense as he follows you guys.

"You'll be fine" You tell him before getting the attention of the booth person. You get three darts for you and three darts for Stefan. "None for you cause you don't need anything sharp while being here around well the whole town" You explain to him before throwing your first dart.

"Oh, come on!" You exclaim. All your darts shot into the side of the wooden cubby where the balloon lies in. they're all lodged in there and the worker has a startled look on his face. "Sorry?" You don't really mean it if you're being honest.

"You'll do better next time" Stefan rubs his hand up and down your arm in comfort. "Oh please, says the dude who hit the actual balloons with all his darts" You glare up at him while walking away from the game.

"Why did you think that you'd be good at this?" Damon crosses his arms with a smirk on his face. "Oh shut up" You turn and smack him. "But you've gotta admit, you're having fun" You raise your eyebrows in a playful way.

"Just keep walking, Munchkin" Damon turns your head with his hand to look forward.

[angievue]

her doll ʚɞ billie eilish

in which you're billie's plaything and she promised she'd make you her girlfriend. is she honest?

contains smutt!! billie's manipulative, readers an airhead!! dumbification, degradation, fingering&oral (r recieving), tiny bit of edging? cheating, mentions of alcohol, random oc who's billies gf, billie isnt famous in this

wc 3.9k+

a/n this is my first one shot everr!! feedback is always appreciated!! please know that my grammar is ass and english is genuinely not my first language!! :D

"You know, it's a good thing you're done with that two-timer," your best friend says, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

She chuckles lightly as she runs the straightener through her hair effortlessly. "It's a relief you cut ties with Billie. You do know she was never gonna end things with Julie, right?"

Your head snaps back in shock, disbelief evident in your eyes. "No! She told me she was going to make me her girlfriend, but I just had to wait for Julie to get over her."

When Billie first came into your life, it felt like a fairy tale. She was the most captivating person on campus, while you were the sweet, naive girl everyone admired from afar. It seemed like fate had brought you together, except for the fact that she said a girlfriend.

After six months of seeing each other, you finally asked why you couldn't be hers. She gave you excuses, claiming Julie was in a dark place and needed her, but that you satisfied her in ways Julie couldn't. 

You were always a ditz. There was no denying it. You grew up with disappointed parents and weary teachers, it felt miraculous that you even made it to college. Little did you know, that very naïveté was what captivated Billie. She thrived on slipping into your mind, convincing you that she belonged there. She adored the way she could bend your perception, making you believe she alone knew what was truly good or bad for you.

But Julie was always lurking in the shadows of your twisted love. Your encounters with Billie were sworn in secrecy, whispered beneath the canopy of night. Billie never missed an opportunity to tell you how much better you were than Julie; her words both intoxicating and confusing. Yet, despite her relentless cheating, you wondered—if you were so much greater, why didn’t she just end things with Julie?

Eventually, you grew tired of being her secret and decided to end things. And of course, she didn’t take that well. She blew up your phone, relentless and pleading, until you could take no more and finally blocked her. If Billie wasn’t willing to claim you as hers, then you had no choice but to walk away. You vowed to yourself, and your friends, that you wouldn’t look back, even though every part of you longed to.

"It kills me how you're such an airhead, Y/N," she said, her voice sharp with frustration. "She never broke up with her. I saw them together not long ago, wrapped around each other like they were the only two people in the world. She lied to you, just so she could keep fucking you over. Can’t you see that? Now, for the last time, hurry up and finish your hair. We're leaving at nine, and you can’t go looking like this."

You grab the straightner, confused at her words. Before you blocked her, Billie swore to you that she'd break up with Julie and go straight to you, and if she really was going to why would she be seen a couple days ago cuddling up to her? Why would Billie lie to you?

The overpowering smell of stale alcohol and sweat fills the air as you roam the upper floors of the three-story mansion, looking for a quiet room to rest. You lost track of your friends long ago and now feel a bit dazed from the shot of tequila you’ve had.

Parties were never your scene, in fact you’d only attend them if your friends dragged you or if Billie was there. She never misses a chance to eye you hungrily, her lips curling into a teasing smile at the mere sight of you.

You remember one particular night vividly. You were at a Halloween party, wearing the shortest skirt you owned, acutely aware that Billie would likely be eyeing you. As you made your way to the bar, you suddenly turned to find Julie and Billie lips intertwined. Your breath caught in your throat, not just from the sight, but because Billie’s gaze was locked on you, piercing through you as if she were the one kissing you.

Soon after, you recall her telling you to meet her at her apartment, which you did without hesitation. She sat you down and demanded that you beg for her fingers, which you did so obediently. You pleaded and pleaded, tears streaming down your cheeks as she loomed over you, a dark gleam in her eyes and a smirk playing on her lips. She’d blow smoke in your face from time to time to tease you even more, marking you as utterly pathetic for her.

A low groan escapes your lips as you shove a random door open, stepping into a dimly lit room. A perfectly made single bed dominates the space, its crisp white sheets a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in your mind. You stumble further inside, your hazy vision clouding your thoughts, when the sudden thud of the door slamming shut jolts you back to reality.

Turning slowly, your gaze finds itself upon Billie. Her raven hair falls like a dark waterfall around her striking blue eyes, an unsettling beauty that captivates yet confounds you. What was she doing here? Why was she in the same room as you?

She shuts the door behind her and bites her lip, eyeing your pitiful excuse for a skirt. Anger fills your cheeks as you remember what your best friend told you earlier. Even if you didn’t block Billie, she still would’ve lied to you—something you can hardly believe.

“Hi there, sweet thing. Care to explain why I’m blocked?” She leans in slightly, her gaze lingering on your mini skirt, a spark of curiosity mingling with a flicker of desire in her eyes

The way she looks at you drives you wild, igniting a heat that spreads through your entire body. Billie was aware of it—she knew exactly which buttons to push and how to push them. It’s what made you so favourable to her.

You huff in frustration and head towards the bed, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotions. Why was she so oblivious to your feelings? You’ve been yearning to be her girl for what feels like an eternity, carrying the weight of your longing like a heavy stone in your chest. The discovery that she never truly ended things with Julie twists in your stomach like a knife, a sickening realization that shatters the delicate hope you had clung to. 

In a swift motion, she grips your waist, halting your escape. With a flick of her wrist, she turns you to face her “What’s your issue?” The challenge hangs in the air, and she furrows an eyebrow, her palm heat against the small of your back, igniting every nerve in your body.

“I’m not talking to you and I don’t ever want to see you again!”

She barks out a laugh, eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh yeah? Is that why you’re still standing here, pretending to be so tough? Maybe you just don’t wanna leave without getting off...”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you grip the edge of the doorframe, fully aware that you could walk out at any moment. Yet, deep inside, you realize you crave her presence more than you want to admit.

“Whatever! I’m not saying a word to you,” you shoot back, though your voice wavers.

Billie tilts her head, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. She lets you go and you feel empty. She settles down on the bed, patting her lap. “Come sit on my lap, baby. Tell me why you’re so fussy.”

Her stance on the bed gives you an all too familiar feeling back to when you first met; your friends had left you to either get drinks or to get fucked, and you were on the verge of blacking out. You wandered to an unfamiliar room, taking in the scent of frat boys and wavering sex in the air. You sat down on the bed and felt your nerves tense up, until Billie sat beside you.. Billie’s presence had ignited something in you that night, a thrill mingled with fear. You had felt so small, so innocent under her gaze, and yet drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

She leaned in closer, her voice low and sultry, laced with promises that sent shivers down your spine. You remembered the way she brushed a stray hair behind your ear, the soft, lingering touch that made your heart race. She told you how she’s been eyeing you for a while, showering you with compliments about your beauty, how your dress clung to your curves, and how her girlfriend could never compare to you.

Her beautiful gaze had you held captive, and her whispers and promises made you turn into goo. She promised she’d make you hers one day if you let her touch you, which you did, prompting her to steal your virginity. She had promised you that she’d save you from all the evil in the world, calling you naive and unaware. Little did you know, she was the evil who took advantage of you and your mind.

You lock eyes with her and find yourself longing for her, and you obediently lower yourself onto her lap. She bites her lip, holding your gaze as her lips brush against your ear, “So?” she whispers softly.

“You… You told me you broke up with Julie! My friend told me she saw you two together,” you muster the courage to say, blinking away the tears threatening to spill from your doe-like eyes.

“Aww, sweet girl,” Billie coos, her fingers caressing your cheek. “You’ve misunderstood…”

“Really?” You look up at her.

“Yeah, I was just returning some things to Julie after our breakup, and she offered to treat me to ice cream. It was nothing serious, angel.”

You tilt your head, doubt creeping in. “But she said she saw you two cuddling!”

Billie blinks, and for a fleeting moment, you see her features go dark before her expression softens. She smiles, “That was just me comforting her; her cat had passed away recently.”

You nod, comprehension dawning. You internally smiling, realizing that Billie would never lie to you. She did break up with her. Right?

“I hope she’s alright,” you say, feeling a pang of sympathy.

“Mmm,” Billie murmurs, her hands exploring your body, slipping beneath your skirt, and grasping your flesh with a roughness that makes you whine.

“You make the prettiest noises baby.”

She shifts your position, leaving you sprawled with your back against the bed.  With a teasing smirk, she pulls up your skirt, mumbling about how you aren’t wearing shorts under your skirt.

She let her fingers hover over your clothed cunt, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Does.. Does this mean I can be your girlfriend, Billie?”

She didn't spare you a glance, instead focusing her gaze intently on your pussy and giving it a firm slap.  “My dumb baby thinks she can block me and cut me out? How pathetic..” She teased your entrance through your underwear, making you whimper as you squeezed your hands against her arm.

“Please, Billie..”

She licks her lips with a predatory gaze. The way your tits spill out of your dress and the way you blink up at her so innocently drives her crazy. You’re her doll, and she can mold and manipulate you at her will…

“Beg baby. Tell me you’re my doll who I can do whatever I want to with.” You hesitate, your thoughts consumed by conflicting emotions about Julie and how you really longed for Billie to be yours. Memories of having to meet up privately flood your brain, you long for publicity with her. 

She drew circles against your entrance, maintaining unwavering eye contact and challenging you to beg for her. No matter what, you couldn't help but stare into her cold, blue eyes as they taunted you.

"Please, make me your girlfriend, Billie..." You choke out, revealing your true desires.

She rolled her eyes and sucked in a breath, impatient. "I will. Now shut up and beg for it, bunny. Don't you want to feel good against my fingers?"

You blinked, your mind slow to process her words. "I… I’m your doll and... You can do whatever you want to me," you admitted, your voice soft and uncertain. You were always so needy, so desperate for her. It was pathetic, but you didn't care. All that mattered was Billie.

She chuckled softly, her hand reaching out to cup your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet her eyes. "Good girl," she praised, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Such a good, needy girl."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallowed hard, your eyes fluttering closed as you leaned into her touch. God, you were such an airhead, so easily manipulated, so eager to please. It was embarrassing, but that’s what drove Billie insane, you're her own personal doll.

Billie’s hand started to travel, her fingers trailing down your thigh, inching closer and closer to the apex of your legs. 

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a whimper, but it escaped anyway. Her touch was electric, setting every nerve ending on fire.

"Quiet, sweet girl," she whispered, her voice soothing yet commanding. "Let me take care of you."

You could feel yourself melting under her words, your body relaxing against the plush chair. Your skirt was already riding up, exposing more of your thighs, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was Billie.

Her fingers finally reached their destination, slipping between your folds with practiced ease. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily against her hand. She gave your pussy a slap, her fingers lashing against your sensitive flesh.

"Keep still," she observed, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Already dripping... What a slut you are."

The degrading words should have made you cringe, but instead, they only served to heighten your arousal. You moaned softly, your head falling back as you surrendered to the sensations she was stirring within you.

"Mmm," you moaned, your voice breaking as another wave of pleasure rolled through you. You felt like you were melting against her fingers.

Her fingers delved deeper, finding your clit and giving it a firm pinch. You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your climax. Red heats up your cheeks, embarrassed you finished quite quick, but that’s what drives her insane, she wasn’t done with you yet. She continued to stroke and toy with your sensitive nub, prolonging your orgasm until you thought you might lose your mind.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she withdrew her hand, leaving you gasping for breath and trembling. Her eyes glittered with amusement as she licked your slick off her fingers then llifted them to your lips, watching you licking them slowly and seductively.

"Mmm, she could never have a pussy as sweet as yours," she purred, her gaze locked onto yours. "Such sweet, needy pussy."

You could barely form a response, too overwhelmed by the intensity of what she'd just done to you. All you could manage was a weak whimper.

But Billie wasn't satisfied with that. She leaned in even closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, "tell me you’re a slut baby. A useless dumb slut all for me."

You hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to find the right words. She nudged you with her knee, a silent reminder that she wouldn't be patient forever.

"I... I'm your dumb, needy slut," you finally stammered, the words spilling out in a rush. "Your dirty little plaything."

Your words surprised you, she could mold you into whatever she wanted. Earlier in the night you were pleading to be her girlfriend and now you don’t care what you are to her.

A satisfied smile spread across her lips. "Good girl," she said, patting your cheek gently. "And now, let's see how much more you can take before you completely break."

With that, she rose, her fingers once again reaching for your skirt. This time, she yanked it up higher, revealing your drenched pussy to the world. You whimpered, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but there was nothing you could do to stop her.

"Spread your legs," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument.

You obeyed without question, parting your thighs wide open for her. She knelt down in front of you, her eyes roaming over your glistening folds with obvious delight.

"Beautiful," she breathed, her fingers dipping back into your slick heat. "So fucking beautiful."

You moaned, your body arching towards her as she began to tease you once more. This time, however, she wasn't content with just fingers. No, she wanted something more…

Billie stood between your legs, her eyes dark with lust as she stared down at you. Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, revealing teeth that glinted menacingly in the faint light. She leaned closer, her breath hot against your inner thigh, and whispered, "You’re nothing but my personal little slut, aren’t you? A pathetic whore.”

Her words stung, cutting deep into your already fragile self-esteem. But there was something about the way she said them, the way her voice dripped with disdain, that made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to deny it, to scream back at her that she was wrong, but the truth was, she wasn’t. Not entirely. Deep down, you knew she was right. Knew that you were weak, that you needed someone like her to take control, to control your every action, to make you feel something other than the numbness that had settled over you.

Billie must have sensed your hesitation, because her smile grew wider, more sinister. "That’s what I thought," she purred, her fingers trailing up your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "But don’t worry, sweetie. I’m going to make sure you remember just how much of a whore you really are."

With that, she lowered her head, her tongue darting out to flick against your clit. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pleasure that shot straight to your core, making you gasp and arch your back. But Billie wasn’t done. She let out a low chuckle, her breath warm against your sensitive flesh, and then began to circle your clit with the tip of her tongue. Slowly, deliberately, she increased the pressure, her movements almost taunting in their precision.

"Do you like that?" she asked, her voice mocking as she continued to tease you. "Do you like feeling my tongue on you, making you squirm? Or is it too much for my dumb baby?”

Your mind was a tangled mess of conflicting emotions. On one hand, you hated her for the way she spoke to you, for the way she reduced you to nothing more than a plaything for her amusement. But on the other hand, her words—no, her entire presence—had a strange effect on you. They made you feel... alive. Like the emptiness inside you was finally being filled, if only by pain and humiliation.

"That’s it," Billie murmured, her tongue now flicking back and forth over your clit in quick, sharp strokes. "Beg for it. Beg me to keep going, my little baby."

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your resolve crumbling under the weight of her dominance. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. All you could do was moan, your hips bucking against her tongue as the pleasure built inside you.

"Beg,” Billie demanded, her voice harsh, unyielding. "My little slut. Don’t you dare try to ever run away from me again. You belong to me."

The words tumbled out of you in a rush, your voice trembling with both shame and arousal. "Please... please don’t stop... I need you to... I love... I wanna..."

Before you could finish, Billie pulled away, leaving you panting and desperate. She looked down at you, her expression cold and calculating. "Need me to what?" she asked, her tone sharpening with impatience.

"I need you to make me forget," you blurted out, your voice barely above a whisper. "Make me forget how worthless I am..."

For a moment, Billie just stared at you, her eyes narrowing as she processed your words. Then, she let out a low, satisfied hum. "Good girl," she said, her voice softening just enough to send a thrill of excitement through you. "But just so we’re clear, you’re not allowed to come until I say so. Understand?"

You nodded quickly, your body trembling with anticipation. Billie smirked and then returned her attention to your throbbing clit, her tongue sliding back into place with a slow, deliberate pressure that left you gasping. This time, however, she didn’t tease. Instead, she dove right in, her tongue swirling around your clit in broad, sweeping circles that sent waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"Ahh... fuck... Billie..." you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as your body arched up towards hers, desperate for more.

"Shhh," Billie soothed, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she continued to lap at you. "Just relax, angel girl. Let me take care of everything. You don’t need to think anymore. Just feel."

Her words echoed in your mind, wrapping around your thoughts like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter until all you could focus on was the sensation of her tongue on your skin. The world outside the bedroom faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a battle of wills—hers to dominate, yours to submit.

And yet, as much as you hated to admit it, part of you reveled in it. In the way she made you feel, in the way she took control and forced you to confront your deepest, darkest desires. It was as if she had unlocked something inside you, something primal and raw, and now that it was free, there was no going back.

Billie must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, because she suddenly changed tactics, her tongue dipping down to flick at the entrance of your pussy before plunging inside. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and surprise that left you gasping for breath.

"Oh God... Billie...!" you cried out, your body jerking as she continued to thrust her tongue deeper, exploring every inch of you with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

"Good girl," she murmured again, her voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh as she spoke. "That’s it. Just let go. Let me make you forget everything."

And with that, she sealed her lips around your clit, sucking gently as her tongue continued to work its magic. The combination was too much, too intense, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Please... please let me come..." you begged, your voice cracking with desperation.

But Billie wasn’t done yet. She pulled back, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she watched you squirm beneath her. "Not yet," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "We’re just getting started."

You whine at her words, desperate for a release. Everything was at her will, and it was clear that you truly were her doll. 

a/n sorry i got kinda lazy at the end idk!! hope you enjoyed to some extent! this is my first time actually writing smut so idk how i didd plz give some feedback :D

[cherishedproperty]

A Submissive Origin Story

Most of the time when people ask what made me submissive, I shrug and say it’s just who I am. I don’t believe that submission inherently comes from somewhere; sometimes it’s just who we are.

But lately I’ve been working through a lot, trying to get to a mentally healthier version of myself. I’ve been thinking about the high expectations placed on me as a child and the stressful environment around me. My dad in particular was emotionally unpredictable. He could come home in a great mood, then lecture us for an hour over some small turn of phrase he didn’t like. And as the eldest daughter (yes yes, I fulfill ALL the stereotypes), he was particularly hard on me. I remember in 2nd grade, I brought home a spelling test and was proud that I got a 99%. My dad lectured me for more than half an hour about how I can do better. This is one example of many. A few years ago, my dad told me, “I never had to spank you or anything. I learned early on with you that all I had to do was make you feel like a disappointment. That always worked. And look how successful you are now.” His intentional parenting philosophy was to cause me psychological pain. Thanks, Dad.

And listen, I know it’s all fucked up. I know he was wrong to do all that. That’s why I parent very differently, and why I chose people to coparent with me who would parent differently. But it did shape me. It still does. All of this made me a person who can read people really well and take the perspectives of others. I know what people want and how to cater to their feelings, because I had to. It made me a more effective communicator because I always needed to choose my words carefully before I opened my mouth. It made me an overachiever—yes, very successful, but also someone who feels I have to work twice as hard as a normal person to have a chance at being good enough. Someone who thinks giving 100% means giving until I legitimately can’t anymore. Someone who needs clarity and validation, because I starved for it with him.

Lately I’ve been processing all this and also working through a present day set of issues with my dad. So all of this has been very much on the surface.

Then a few weeks ago, I was getting ready for bed one night, and it was very clear Monsieur wanted sex. Had been thinking about sex all day. Had the toys all laid out. And my brain was just…not there. But I didn’t say no. Didn’t even tell him where my head was at. And unsurprisingly, things didn’t go well for either of us. I was thinking about it after, and I had this epiphany.

I didn’t say no because some part of me deep down believes that if I say no, he won’t love me anymore.

In my conscious mind, I don’t believe that at all. Monsieur is one of the most unconditionally loving people I’ve ever been with. But what I realized is, no matter how many good things I do as a partner, I feel like all of that gets washed away by one wrong step. Because that’s what has happened in the past. Perfection is the minimum standard.

It got me thinking that maybe this is why I find such comfort in a D/s relationship. I know exactly what the parameters are and what it looks like to be a good partner. The rules and expectations are explicit, and the feedback is clear. Do good girl things, get good girl head pats. Basically, I know exactly what it takes to get an A+ in my relationship, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

It also made me wonder if this is part of why I haven’t been feeling as submissive lately. I have a partner who truly sees me—all of me—and accepts me. He loves me not in spite of my quirks, but because of them. And every time I get down on myself because I didn’t do XYZ and I don’t feel good enough, he tells me what a wonderful partner I am and recounts all the good stuff I bring to his life. Clarity and validation. Unconditional love. And maybe it’s because I’m so confident in his love that I can finally stop forcing myself to push through when it’s not good for me.

There have certainly been times in the past when I have pushed myself to submit to a Dominant when it wasn’t good or comfortable for me. I prided myself on being able to give even when I had nothing left. And I often got the good girl pats and validation, which made it all feel worth it. But the validation didn’t replenish me; it just made being empty feel a little less bad.

I don’t say all of this to make D/s seem dysfunctional or inherently bad in some way. I know many people in healthy D/s relationships. And I don’t actually think that my submission is just a product of all this insecurity and need for validation; I’ve had submissive feelings for as long as I can remember.

But I do think my past has shaped the kinds of D/s I pursue and how I conduct myself in those dynamics. For example, it shapes my difficulty safewording because I don’t want to be a disappointment. Even though my partner has done nothing but praise me when I safeword. Even though I’ve seen the negative consequences of my failure to safeword when I should have.

So here’s where I’m at with all of this: I need to understand where my submission comes from a dysfunctional place so I can move forward to build a healthy, soul-nourishing dynamic with my partner. I’m not sure what it looks like yet, but I do believe it’s possible.

[coffee-and-tea-time]

⁺˚⋆｡°⚝ You choose... me? ⚝°｡⋆˚⁺

thank you thank you thank you thank you Yandere! Hacker x Yandere Lover! Reader

Did you miss us? ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)✨

We honestly loved writing this geek, we end up adding some mention of yanderes games we play together! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ Coffee likes to watch me react to yandere vns oh, don't act like you didn't melt over some of them too shhh. Anyways, hope you all enjoy reading this as much as we enjoy writing it! ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ - Tea (Also, I wanna brag that this sunday we gonna celebrate Tea for all of his effort during the year, special congrats to my beloved twin! ୧(๑•̀ヮ•́)૭ - coffee)

Woah, feels like it's been a long time! (since I last have seen my son lost to this monster, to the man behind the slaughter) ♡ˎˊ˗ tbh I could keep talking about this for hours, I love yanderes (づ> v <)づ♡ * Jack Skellington is still in his Christmas phase? Maybe I could ask him for one as an early gift - coffee

if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins

word count: 3.3k

tw: yandere behavior, willing reader, writing in you/yours, this got some internet/yandere references hope y’all catch them (links will be below the story, please do tell us if we missed any) If you don’t know them, take them as recommendations ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ (weird to say that when there’s a blood soup reference on here, is like the canon event of everyone who likes yanderes), anxiety attack?, yapper yandere

Huh, honestly the one that struck you the most sure had to be Grier, you still can catch every so often from the corner of your eye how different security cameras move all of the sudden, probably hoping to find one not taped unsuccessfully, talk about stalkerish, cute.

“I will choose… Grier”

The seller gives you a soft sigh, almost of defeat but also relief, tapping his foot as he glances over at the one security camera that was moving now on the far right corner of the shop, moving frantically from side to side as if searching for something. He abruptly lifts up from his seat and groans. 

“Alright, I'll go get the ladder…” 

The seller goes down the wooden ladder after taking the tape off the camera lense and signs for you to come closer to it.

"The cameras here don't have sound but showing you to him should be enough of a clue all by itself"

You freeze as the security camera focuses on you, standing there, you wave awkwardly and the camera starts moving side to side abruptly before freezing,  like the person behind it moved away from it.

"Well, either he fainted or he is coming right away!"

The seller says in a cheerful voice as he goes to cover the camera lense again with a strip of tape. A couple of minutes pass before you hear the screeching stop of a car parking in front of the shop hurriedly, soon followed by a panting man who barges inside like his life depended on it.

“I’m here! I'm here!!” 

He says almost tripping on his own feet as he shoves in your face a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Oh, those are my favorites! Thank you"

"I-I know, don't worry, I made sure to do a quick background check on your medical history so I don't trigger any allergies, I promise I will gather more information tonight! Don't worry"

Well, you can’t really be surprised by his actions since you were warned, though you were by his speed, how did he manage to hurry here driving, buy you flowers and check your medical history in the process? I guess you’d never know, maybe he's a student of Penelope García.

“Well, Grie-”

As the seller attempts to congratulate you both, hand hovering over your shoulder to pat it as a friendly mannerism, Grier is quick to slap it away with a glare that makes you remember a surly cat.

“Is everything ready? I would much rather finish paperwork as quickly as possible” 

Wow, that’s a really sudden change of tone, the distant and somewhat professional posture he took in a matter of seconds makes you think if the Grier that was tripping over his feet, babbling nervously while giving you flowers was just a trick of your imagination, but the theory quickly dies as he places his stare on you again, his expression completely changing, getting all flustered and blushy again… cute. 

“Well, shall we get going? I hope you like my house but of course you can redecorate it- we can redecorate it oh maybe we should go first to your house to get an example? I can mimic your space so you feel comfier although if that makes you uncomfortable of course we don't need to I just would love to know more about you so that I don't messed up, well, not only things I mean get to everything about you, but please don't feel pressur-” 

“Grier, we got the memo, continue yapping out of the store. And for you Dear, I hope you find your happy ending with that parrot you bought, no refunds or returns are allowed."

The seller, who looks like he's about to get a migraine if he keeps hearing Grier, quickly kicks him out and says his farewells to you. As you exit the store behind Grier, he is quick to show you the way to his car.

"Thanks.. uh, do you mind if we go to my place real quick?"

Well, it's pretty obvious he will take you to his house and you can't really back up now so, you only need to gather some thi- oh, he's already panicking.

"Your place? Going to mine doesn't sound appealing? I-I can change it! What's the thing you would totally love that my house had? It's not like I don't want to see your house I honestly would love to but you do plan to come to mine after, right? Maybe you'd rather be in your place? But then we'd be so far away… or course I don't want to bother you I swear I can do and buy whatever will suit you best to be comfortabl-" 

"We're gonna go grab some of my clothes! I need my things, then we can go to your house"

The seller wasn't lying when he said Grier is a rambler type of person, but you can't really be annoyed by it, his voice is honestly so damn good, and the way it sounded when he went all serious mode talking to the seller was just… wait, no, no time for simping right now, you gotta think what do you need to gather from your house.

"Oh yes of course of course sorry I got worried for a momento although it would've nice to go shopping together if you forgot something of course we can also shop online if you don't really like crowded places oh, I… god"

As he was talking, you honestly were more focused on how pretty his watery eyes are, just hearing bla bla bla, you can't help but start caressing his hair, it seems like it took him by surprise but certainly not in a bad way, leaning into your touch as you run your fingers through his messy, wavy but soft hair, you must admit that you thought it was tangled at first but that isn't the case.

 Ah, right, your things.

"Well, shall we get going?"

You watch him nod, seeming incredibly out of words, as he red faced opens the door for you before going to his seat and searching for something in his phone before he starts driving. Uh, then you have full control over the music? He seems like in his own world and you hardly doubt he minds you changing the music when he still can't even cool down his blush… you must tease him from time to time for funsies, noted. 

Part of you wanted to put that one song from ayesha erotica but maybe it was a little weird, so you switch to the safe choice: do nothing. You switch to your phone to make a little note for yourself about important things you need.

Oh, right

You forgot to tell him your address because you were too focused on other things, well… just as you remembered he was already parking in front of your apartment anyways- 

Grier makes his way out of the car once the engine is off, walking around the car to open the door for you, helping you out with his hand, then walking alongside you as you make your way up to your floor and through the door of your apartment. 

"Here, make yourself at home, I’ll be picking  my clothes”

Although it doesn’t seem very smart to let someone like him snoop around, though you can’t help but also be curious about what he will do and, well, it’s not like he can do much since it's just your house… right?

Anyways, you left him for a moment to go pack clothes, catching him nervously walking around from time to time, but he seems really the quiet type, surely more on the soft yandere side, his droopy innocent eyes made him look the part.  damn wrong Dear, you seems like a yandere amateur, try again.

"Ugh, I still have so much to pack"

You murmured, already getting tired of the repetitive grap-and-pack motion, impatient to get to talk to your little yapper and get to know him better. Speaking of the devil, you feel his presence behind you, his shadow betraying his location as it engulfs you, then feeling a soft tap on your shoulder, so soft in fact it seemed as if your shoulder was made of needles.  

"You don't have to worry about your computer and stuff. I already have them backed up, t-to save you time! Since you seemed stressed and said I could snoop around I thought about helping a bit and backing up your devices… same with all your accounts- just to help of course"

Well, now you know what he was up to while you were busy.

WAIT A DAMN MINUTE

"...did you check my browser history?"

You blurt out the question as you run through the chance of any incriminating, possibly cringy, piece of information in your phone that might require some explanation… God forbid if he found your tumblr-

"...No"

He did.

"I have a tiny question though, if you don't mind of course- the last thing I want to do is bother you in any way"

He totally did.

"....depends, what do you want to ask, Dear?"

Okay, you got this, you got a yandere for something. Whatever he asks you, if it turns out awkward, there's little that can't be solved by some pampering when it's related to yanderes,  how he giggled when you called him Dear confirming this notion. You got this.

"I just was, you know, curious about what games you played, I wasn't prying! But, you know, it's good to know your interest to get to know you better and maybe play together while cuddling on the couch and have some hot cocoa with little marshmallows as we wrap ourselves in a big blanket…. Anyways, the point it's… what's exactly your type?"

Okay, you don't got this. 

"Huh, how is one thing related to another?"

It's better to buy a little time while you think of a correct answer for that. Would it be too cheesy to say something like 'you'? Maybe you really should have bought that manual for 'how to take care of your yandere' when they offered it to you on the website. 

"Well, wandering around a bit I found you seem to like playing something called 'dating sim'? According to what I saw it's like flirting and romance virtual characters although the stories really differ from one to another which makes it really confusing to figure out what's your taste to be honest"

Alright, you have to reply quickly to give him some peace, maybe he found one that really didn't resemble him and got nervous? It doesn't sound wise to let a yandere get insecure.

"My type is…"

You gently place your hand on his chin to make him look directly into your eyes.

“Let 's see… My type has gorgeous, green, droopy eyes, a bedhead that, I must say, is pretty damn soft, the kinda guy that rambles a lot and seems to have this nervous habit of straightening his clothes and, especially, my type is a certain guy that can't take his eyes off of me” 

You watch as a red tint paints his cheeks, a shivering smile appears on his face as he takes a step closer to you nuzzling himself onto your hand like a cat asking for attention.

"Really? Can you promise that? Will you willingly say that into a microphone? Just for the record, do you really really see me as your ideal?"

"Of course, of course, who wouldn't find an adorable hacker this endearing?'

"Then... you got a thing for hackers? So, your favorite was that seven zero seven?"

Did you really hear that right?

…

You can’t help but feel your past haunting your back. 

"It's a really good character, although, I find kinda sad that seven has this hint at him being aware of every reset"

Does this count as dodging the question? Maybe.

"Following that logic, I'm aware of every breath you take so does that means I can get more of your attention? Or maybe I'm being too greedy though you seem to have spent a lot of your time romancing them, obviously I'm not judging you but that means that it would be okay also for me to check on you at every hour, even if it's 2 am? Just to make sure you don't need anything, of course! That you're well cared for… or do I require something else to be worthy of that? Please tell me, is it my personality? I don't really think so since, well, I see you gush over intense personalities such as that… Damon? Deimon? The game isn't even finished but you seem to like everything about him although he doesn't really show you about himself. That means that what makes up your favorability is... The attention over you?"

Oh god, he found itchi.io, better start praying he didn't see anything weird.

"Well, they are just… games I played because I was bored, you shouldn't look too much into those”

"But you play more than one or two which means that you really enjoyed playing them and searching for more of that kind but I can't help but be confused and intrigued about what is that something, you even liked one where the characters shared the same body as a human and… a fae? I didn't really understand but they seem really different, which makes it very hard to find a pattern, but that isn't the only one you played like that, you also have one that switches between a shy boy and a flirty one, do you like the contrast? What exactly is that thing that makes you fawn over them? Maybe it would be good if I got two different aesthetics? I can't hide my name like that ‘redacted’ guy that looks mysterious…but I can change looks out of the blue and leave little clues of something? But, about what? I really don't have that much to tell and my stalking it's pretty much obvious, I also don't have superpowers to act like the hero one."

"Honey, it's okay, you don't need to do such a thing, as I said, I like you, those are just games I play in my free time to not get bored"

"Maybe it will be better if I go directly to straightforward characters? That 'Friend' was really honest most of the time, that… fan? Monster? Also was honest, why is there so much variety? But there also was people that were better at hiding it like that mushroom boy or that sol… it's difficult to stabilize a pattern if they keep variating so much, maybe I should put my focus on the ones you know the longer, I had to buy a seifuku and chase you with a chainsaw? No, there's the possibility I could injure you and I absolutely can't risk that, maybe I can buy a mannequin and put a synthetic deer head and say it my brother"

Okay, just how many did he see? Why does he need a pattern in the first place? You literally choose him, but well, he seems to want it to get more of your attention… Why don't give him so? Probably will help him to calm down, you aren't planning to do a crossover of Perfect Love with this guy.

"Dear, look directly at me for a second, did you hear what I was telling you? Listen to me, those are games, you are the one here with me, don't you think that you are already winning by far with that thing alone?"

You pinch his cheeks to get him to stop rambling about favorites, finally, and his eyes seem focused on you once again.

"Well, that's right, I'm the one feeling your touch, even if is a romance game, I'm the one closer to you although I'm not a big fan of you giggling and choosing flirty things but that hobby also means staying more at home where I can stick around more, if I think it carefully, it's something safe overall”

As you let go of his cheeks, he is quick to hold your hand in order to forbid you to move it away, leaning his cheek into your palm again as he talks.

"Yeh, there's a lot of people with the same taste in stories that me, so you can say they are pretty popular, don't look into it so much, there's no need to bother your mind with such a thing, these are just things I enjoy reading"

"It's true that they are just stories, you enjoy reading about lovesick so much? That's why you use tumblr? It makes sense since the blogs you follows also have the same theme and there's even one you seems to check frequent that's seems to have everything about yanderes… that's like you don't enjoy them in particular but the yandere part, don't you? That… sounds wonderful like it was probably obvious since you bought me but if you keep so much of your time looking for more of them that means you will just love my little antics too? please please say yes please please please"

Fuck, he did enter to your tumblr and even checks your followings, thanks god he end up with a good train of thought at the end.

"Yes, you're the one here, you shouldn't worry about the little hobbies I have, I just enjoy the reading, It's called dark romance and every character is different because one thing or another, you gonna get a headache if you think about it too much"

And please don't search more. Sadly, you can say that, he will definitely search more if you said it like that.

"Well, that makes sense, after all, you won't go into the yandere shop if you don't know anything about the subject, and there's a lot of options and… I win, because you chose me to let me be with you”

Well, your danger Kitty seems a lot more calm by now, you should note that if he starts rambling non-stop, focusing your stare at him totally works.

Well, you better start going before he start snooping on tumblr or worse: find c.ai

"Love, you know something? I'm getting sleepy, why don't we finish packing another day? I'm curious to see how it's your place"

"O-oh yes yes of course! I hope you find my house of your likeness but of course you can change whatever you don't like or if the neighborhood is not of your likeness we can also change that just differents methods I'd it the locations or the neighbors perse but I can totally take care of it you said you were sleepy, don't you? I have a spare room but if you are comfortable with it my bed is pretty comfy of course the spare room also has a comfy bed but…"

He keep yapping, you can't really help but giggled as he goes on with excuses on why you two should totally nap together for a better sleep as you two make your way out with some of your things to put them in his car, and as you get comfortable on your seat and he drives…. The unthinkable happens.

"Yes, we can eat that after napping together dear"

"Awesome! I love to spend more time with you as much as possible, we can watch something as he eat, oh right, we can totally watch that anime you saw"

Just like your breath, the cars stop for a moment at the red light.

"...which anime?"

He smiles to you, like excited to show off he knows a cool fact and pull his phone to research something quickly, and show you a photo of that one anime.

"You did really liked tha-"

"We don't talk about that one"

You feel your past decisions haunting your back once again.

That one anime for me totally will be Diabolik Lovers ngl- don’t proud of myself on that (if curious, my fav Sakamaki was Kanato and fav Mukami was Azusa), although I saw weirder, I hope Grier doesn’t bring those up, I rather them buried  ~ coffee

My questionable past anime has to be Brother’s conflict…WAIT THAT SOUNDS SO WRONG- I didn’t like the brothers aspect, not one bit! I sort of started watching thinking the thing was going to be about brothers being into the same girl and competing against each other, I didn’t think they’d be competing for their FUCKING STEP-SISTER. so yeah… the ending and opening were sick though…Coffee still teases me by playing them from time to time. ~ Tea (I totally recommend playing those out of the blue around a person who watched that anime, it's always fun ~ coffee)

All the links to the things Grier mentions in his ramblings:

Penelope Garcia is the hacker of criminal minds.

Binary Star Hero

A DOUBLE SIDED MIRROR

MONSTER X MEDIATOR

The Kid at the Back

Mystic Messenger (phone app)

*coff coff*  I must say, the Tumblr blog Grier makes reference of, is totally talking about maleyanderecafe, if you like yanderes, you had to know them, they got everything about yanderes, I love them (so yeh, the mention is cuz I wanted to fangirl a little)  ~ Coffee

See Thru: Need a Friend?

Inclement Idée Fixe

Mushroom Oasis

Broken Colors

Duality

14 Days With You

Perfect Love

Blood Soup

btw, I take this little weeb space to ask something: has anyone watched an old shoujo anime that was like, there were two families that are neighbors (the dad’s are coworkers and childhood friends and the mom’s were besties) and one family got a daughter that is in love with the son of the other family but then the anime tells you that the boy’s family are like ninjas that spent generations protecting the lineage were it comes the girl? It was like a funny little cute anime I think, I saw it when I was 10 but couldn't find it ever again ~ Coffee

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest ⚘

[yuri-is-online]

Thinking about the future kid au and Jamil!Yutu (help his tsum is so cute, i love the tsum events)

Like...you said Jamil! Yutu wishes he wasn't born so his dad wouldn't have been executed because some Asim relatives guilted him (desoite them being the ACTUAL reason he died)

Needless to say his relationship with his dad is complicated , but I can't stop thinking about Yutu being of two minds about his parents like "I'm gonna get in the way of your plans for the evening because I don't want either of you to get close and eventually die because of me" but also somehow everything he attempts doesn't work

Because Jamil isn't one to give up easily (none of the boys are) and he just- feels so much freer and happier than he ever has when he gets to trade snarky comments, silly puns and honest praise with Yuu. And he won't let this mysterious guy get ik the way of that, he pretends to enjoy his remaining years at NRC to the best of his ability thank you very much. Plus he's working on gaining his freedom and Yuu is his number one cheerleader at this don't tell Kalim tho he'll be sure to cranck up his enthusiasm if you do ofc he won't stop talking to them nor dreaming of what could be, it's all he has to avoid going mad

Yutu however is losing his mind because every time there's danger he gets reminded of his dad's corpse being dragged around and he keeps worrying this time his dad will die trying to protect Yuu from harm

Little does he know Jamil would rather give his life protecting Yuu than any Asim because that's his CHOICE and that's the person who chose HIM over everyone else. Cue Yutu recovering from the battle, looking around frantically for signs of either of his parents and seeing Yuu patching Jamil up, bantering lightly and sharing such soft looks. They look so happy despite their bruises and suddenly Yutu gets this nauseating feeling of dread because he can see why they fell in love, which means maybe he's too late to stop it now

And then Grim complains that he's hungry after the fight and they both share this look and Yutu gets the little sadness of "oh, this is what it would've been like"

Just- aaaaaaahhhhhhh this au is so good and so angsty but also I wanna add just a little bit of fluff for these poor boys (my original thought was of Yutu seeing his parents meeting in the town and following them to try to sabotage their not-date only to end up making each scenario more romantic until he gives up when they start dancing in the middle of nowhere and he recognizes the dance from when Yuu taught him many years ago)

Happy Birthday Jamil (so sorry this is late), the tsum part of this post really shows you how old it is I am so sorry. Jamil is a real cutie though, his birthday message this year is him thanking Yuu for being someone he can trust to give him something without having ulterior motives. Post OB! Jamil should have a special sort of respect for Yuu I think. He understands what it is like to have to care for someone who makes a lot of problems against your will, but maybe not that you could love that person in the way Yuu loves Grim. Lots to think about with JamilYuu, lots to think about... so this one gets to have two parts as well whoops.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, CW lots of self hatred and thoughts of death, body horror, major character death, bullying, and brief mention of suicide. This post features some o.c.s created by @archetypal-archivist for this ayuu. More information about the ayuu can be found here, here, and here. Masterlist can be found here

The early morning is a sacred time for your little family.  When Yutu was little you would sneak into his room to make sure he was still asleep.  He never was, he'd developed some sort of sixth sense for when his favorite person was home and would wait patiently snuggled into the red scarf he used as a security blanket to surprise you.

“Boo!”  The scarf would go up in the air and you would let out an exaggerated gasp of surprise as your son giggled in manic delight.  “I got you!”

“You got me!”  He'd been little enough to lift up into the air then, you miss those days even though they were difficult.  

Your son still “spooks” you when you come home in the morning.  His former blanket has become a part of his wardrobe, and he's much too big for you to lift up over your head anymore but he's not pretending to be asleep anymore either.  

“Boo!”  Today Yutu has made some tomatoes and eggs, you think you smell coffee but that's not a smart thing for you to be drinking right now.  

“Thank you, little light.”  You settle down at your kitchen table and Yutu excitedly tells you about his plans for the day.  When he does this you always feel lucky, as if you didn't expect him to be such a normal and happy child.  As if there was something other than poverty and your illness that would hold him down and deny him any sense of self or success.  Yutu has never felt like there is anything he cannot do so long as he tries, he's very ambitious, your little light.  You've told him more than once you hope his spark never dims, that you are so proud of him for not letting his circumstances dictate his goals.

There's some relief in knowing you aren't here to see him hiding behind his scarf again.  It would hurt you to see how fast he shrinks away from the lich descending from his throne, putrid rotting flesh assaulting his nose even through the silk guard.  This is his fault, he can find no other logical explanation.  You would disagree, he has no idea what the corpse in front of him would say, but neither of you lived to see what he has.  He's not so full of himself that he thinks the world ended with his birth, but yours most certainly did.  

Yutu is a smart and polite child, the sort of little boy who makes old ladies swoon and insist that his parents are so lucky to have him.  That was a point of pride for him before arriving in Twisted Wonderland.  He never had too many questions about his father, he could see he wasn't the only one of his peers who was being raised by a single parent which was enough reassurance for him.  Maybe he'd meet his father one day, maybe he wouldn't.  He was much more concerned with making friends and learning everything he could.

He loves school in general, but his favorite subject is the stars.  It starts with him trying to amuse himself while waiting for you to come home from work and evolves into a hobby as he gets older.  His first proper expensive present is a refurbished telescope you spent a lot of time researching and asking questions about.  That's the first chip at his self confidence when he's alone in Twisted Wonderland; you worked so hard for that gift and he didn't bring it with him.  Sure, he didn't know what was happening but he knew something was off.  He should have grabbed it and kept it close…

Star gazing isn't his only hobby, he really likes cooking and experimenting with coffee.  He took up cooking because he was tired of waiting for you to come home and make food and expected it to be boring but there's something fulfilling about eating food you've made yourself he really likes.  The fact it makes him more attractive to his classmates is not something he thinks about at all, not one little bit.  You've never found him making extra food for a particular “friend” with a familiar determined smirk on his face.  “Your father used to do the same thing.”  You say it absentmindedly, the look of embarrassment you're met with is also quite similar.  “Not.  Another.  Word.”  

Money is tight, but Yutu still finds ways to participate in extracurricular activities.  He wants them on his college applications, sure, but he also wants friends, his own little group of people who won't care too much about his parent's reputation. Cooking club and drama class end up being his home base, you've got an unwilling front row seat to so much pointless highschool drama it gives you a headache.  He likes playing pickup basketball with his friends but joining the team isn't something he got a chance to do before getting isekaid.

The little bits and pieces you remember about his father make him out to be extremely normal. You remember his favorite food, that he liked cooking and playing basketball. You tell your son he takes after his father in how talented he is; Yutu is proud to be like his father, he assumes that he will get the full story from you someday. Maybe his dad died, maybe you never told him that he was going to be a father out of fear and never got a chance because you lost your memories in a tragic accident. Either way, Yutu is sure that one day he will find out who his father is and he'll be able to help you reconcile your relationship, whether it's by processing his death or reconnecting your friendship.

There's nothing particularly special about the day you remember.  He felt like trying something new with his hair and you had offered to turn his scarf into a turban, memories of fireworks sparking your hands into motion while Yutu tells you about what his teacher wants the school play to be this year.

“Careful!”  Yutu whines as you pull his hair through the cloth.  

“I am being very careful.” You laugh, the look on Yutu's face is familiar. Just like... “Jamil bought this for me, you know.”

“Jamil?” Yutu has never heard that name before, but he can tell it's important. He's never heard you sound so tender before.

“I think we were joking about push presents and he was offended thinking he had to wait until you were born to get me something nice.”  There was meant to be a matching piece of jewelry with Yutu's birthstone he thought you didn't know about, but then…  how could you have forgotten that?  You were going to make fun of him for how sloppy Yutu's birth was making him.  He was losing his touch, the old Jamil never would have been so obvious with a surprise.

“Is that such a bad thing?  You're giving me a gift.” Jamil is looking up at you confused, but it's not Jamil, it's your son. Your little light who- "You look so much like him." Your hand shakes, the world around you fades to black and Yutu begins to scramble.

~~~~

When Yutu opens his eyes he's in a dark room in front of a mirror with a mask hovering in a sea of green flame, there is noise buzzing around him that must be conversation, but try as he might he can't reign himself back into focus. You are still, eyes glassy and unresponsive to his calls. There is a man shaking him, trying to pull him to his feet as he calls for... the word he uses is healer and that allows Yutu to settle himself. "... a healer and take Yuu to the hospital wing immediately!" The Headmage snaps and a woman with brown hair immediately bolts to obey. The person next to her reaches out, but does not follow; the boy's presence is throwing cold water over a particular part of the crowd they would be wise to keep watch over. That isn't the right word so Yutu must be dreaming, he gives the man in the fur coat his attention and obeys, stepping forward to allow the mirror to judge his soul.

"Scarabia." If Yutu was not so convinced he was dreaming he would notice the way the person who approaches him looks, the meaning behind the fur coat's insistence he stay put and wait for him in the mirror chamber. But he does not. So when that person extends their hand, welcomes him to Scarabia and asks him to follow he thinks nothing of it. This is all a bad dream, you will shake him awake and tell him more about Jamil.

Not that he really needs to wait.

The first hit is a slap, the second is a basic fire spell but he doesn't know that when it sears his skin. He doesn't even know why these students are so angry, doesn't recognize his own last name he just thinks the word Viper is being used as an insult. When smoke begins to surround him he assumes the other students have decided to stop toying with him. He's going to die. He just found out his father's name, magic is real, other worlds are real, you are dead. You are dead and there's a foul smelling smoke around him; he's never really thought about what it would be like to die but Yutu finds himself surprisingly calm. "We'll be together soon, [parent]... father are you waiting too?"

"I would hate to waste a necklace on the likes of you." An authoritative voice cuts through the smoke, Yutu recognizes this person as his attackers scatter. The strange one who tried to stop the woman who ran off after the man in the fur coat spoke. They are wearing a lot of jewelry, necklaces and bracelets with strange symbols that seem to thrum with power in a way that sends a shiver down his spine. A rueful smile crosses their lips for a brief second. "Not that it would be a waste of course." Their focus turns to the cause of the smoke, a kerchief they give one more good shake before tucking it back into a pouch with even more strange necklaces wrapped around it.

"Where am I?" Yutu sounds so small, he curses himself silently for it but how else is he supposed to feel when the mysterious stranger looks at him with so much pity?

"Exactly where you belong." They say with authority, as if they are attempting to shut out any doubts before they can form. "But, as much as it shames me to suggest it, that might not be the safest place for you right now."

Misbah is how this person introduces themselves. Their friend, who is beyond stressed to see Yutu so disheveled and insists on healing him before allowing him to see you, is named Sehrish. Explanations can wait until Yutu has had time to say his goodbyes, but the look the older students exchange when you ask them to make sure your son isn't treated like Jamil once was tells him there must be a lot of them. Of the three adults, no one agrees how to give him those explanations either. The only thing they do agree on is that it is unsafe for him to be in Scarabia right now, but there won't be a problem with Ramshackle Dorm even if it's name suggests to Yutu that there really probably should be.

Crewel takes him there, explaining along the way who he is and what he was to you; a professor turned reluctant mentor who cared very deeply about Yuu and Jamil's future. He's reluctant to think of himself as a grandfather, he's just not that old he insists and Yutu laughs just the little bit, but if Yutu has questions about Yuu and your time at the school he is more than welcome to ask. On his father he doesn't say much, simply that he is dead. Murdered actually, but the use of that word is complicated by the circumstances of it so Crewel does not suggest Yutu speak of his family to anyone other than Misbah and Sehrish. Yutu learns, later much later, that Crewel didn't wish to traumatize him further. That he wished to take his time in explaining things. A good idea, but no one that realistically was going to work.

Ramshackle Dorm is unlike the other dormitories at NRC, all the students save him are magicless exactly like his parent. They all know a lot about his parent too, much to his surprise you are something of an idol to these people. None of them mind that he can use magic, it's just neat to be able to talk about the magicless prefect with someone who also thinks they're super cool; some of them have family or family friends that went to NRC while you were here and saw how you handled the overblots, others learned of you when they came here as refugees and were offered a place in the program. "Ramshackle is for misfits and outcasts!" A particularly messy third year proudly tells him when he asks him why they don't mind. Yutu doesn't really know how to feel about that. He never manages to figure it out.

Sehrish is a graduate student and Misbah is a fourth year, which as Misbah explains to him means they spend most of their time "in the field." They wished to say everything from the start, Sehrish wanted to explain herself and her family but did not think herself qualified to say anything more. Was uncertain of how her story would make him feel, afraid of it. The Scalding Sands is their primary focus, that would have been his homeland too had Yuu not been disappeared. Currently it is under the rule of a phantom of the Sorcerer of the Sands, one of the Great Seven Yutu will learn about as his classes progress. Misbah does not hesitate to tell him that this phantom once possessed his father when he was a student, and it is believed that this time it is possessing his corpse. It's a thought that sickens Yutu, how could this have happened? And why?

The why is explained to him in parts. Sehrish starts with the history of the Al-Asims, of the city they helped to build and the relationship between her family and his. She describes his father's burning resentment of his station matter-of-factly. His father was a servant from a well liked and respected family, but that reputation came at a cost. The respect was not for him or his talents, it was for how well he served his master and it drove him mad. The desire for freedom and recognition transformed into a phantom, his parent had fought against it and seen it defeated but somehow it had returned to rule over the Scalding Sands.

Overblotting is something Yutu thinks he has begun to understand, his professors have focused on it heavily so he knows what a phantom is. He's even seen a few small ones, but a phantom large enough to rule over a kingdom resembling one of the Great Seven is... frightening. The other students are all more or less aware of their existence and Sehrish takes the rest of her time to explain where and who the other Phantoms used to be. "We don't know why this happened." But people have theories. There is a timeline he learns from other students whispering behind his back, how his parent disappeared and then suddenly Kalim Al-Asim was murdered.

The living Al-Asims aren't at NRC, there is a rival school across the Island where they chose to stay. They don't speak to Sehrish, the only people he can speak to with any level of authority are the one or two older servants who worked with his grandparents. They speak fondly of the Viper family, though of Jamil they offer little specifics. Murder is again the word used for what happened to him, quietly after looking over their shoulder. Yutu had an Aunt named Najma. She was lively, talked about Jamil's business and constantly made fun of him while being proud of his accomplishments. The Vipers were an honorable family. They didn't want trouble. Did not want to rock the boat. But his father must have otherwise he wouldn't have wanted to overblot...

Yutu wasn't quiet before Twisted Wonderland. He thought of himself as outgoing, you would be so sad to see how small his friend circle has gotten. As time passes, as he fights smaller phantoms, ventures into the Queendom on his first real mission, as he looks in the mirror and realizes he has scars now. His scarf has protective sygils embroidered by Misbah to repair the holes, he's met a merman with pointed teeth who mixed him a drink and told him a story about his father that made him sound... human in a way that scared him out of asking for more.

Yutu has seen what his father became, looked a rotting corpse into what remained of it's eyes and listened to it try to speak with a windpipe welded together by ink. The lich sorcerer of the sands is his father. Yutu has spent enough time listening to his Ramshackle dormmates explain their medical studies to see he died young; there are traces of poisons in the hairs he returns to Idia that make even him shudder. He will never get the full story, never get more from his classmates or the Al Asim representative he meets when returning Kalim's body about how this happened. Just that it was deserved, that none of this would have happened if Jamil had known his place and never obtained his freedom. That isn't something Yutu can bring himself to agree with. His father had every right to want the same say in his life that you had worked so hard to give him, and you...

If you asked Yutu when he started feeling like he did not deserve to exist, he wouldn't be able to give you a specific answer. He certainly never felt like he didn't belong in your world, the general sense of disbelonging he felt he always attributed to his ignorance of his father's identity. But that was a fixable problem, he so firmly believed he would one day get to meet his dad and other family and then all those burning cultural questions would be patched up. But Twisted Wonderland was another matter entirely, the harsh welcome made him feel unwanted even if the Ramshackle students went out of their way to try and mitigate that. But all of that acceptance, all of that love was tied to you. The living Al Asims looked at him and saw a pest, expected him to show deference and repent for his father's misdeeds, while the older servants saw a tragedy. A child so fondly spoken of and wished for but doomed to wander in a broken world none of them expected to survive. Either way, the only message Twisted Wonderland had to offer him was one of rejection. Whenever he made up his mind, by the time he made it to the past and was settled into your version of Ramshackle Dorm he was determined to keep you from making the mistake of staying with his father.

Part 2