#there's a certain pride in wearing it. it's like an open secret.

[purplecelestial-buddy]

aight the people want to know

what are your top kagihira moments

There's so many but also when I read this my mind went blank

I wanted to re read everything so I could give a proper ranking but college won't let me so from the top of my mind:

1. The whole ending of the "gotta get great grades to keep being roomies arc" I know we all love Hirano's dissapointment when Kagi did nothing but everything about their relief and them laughing in the floor of their room, their space, the shared home they fought to keep is so precious

2. The entirety of chapter 24 ngl

Hirano's shinning smile

Him noticing Kagi's discomfort and discussing it with him

Everything

3. The time Hirano decided to use the 10 secs, establishing the rule that he has 10 secs too

4. The infirmary hug where he's clearly (I got a post on that one)

Special mention to:

Anytime Hirano simply looks bright and Kagi looks awestruck

Anything that leads to Hirano blushing furiously

Anytime Hirano looks so fulfilled and satisfied with himself whenever he can do something for Kagi

Their shoujo like moments (if this was any other manga there would be a ton of roses and sakura petals in these panels)

And whatever this is:

[merrilark]

.

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎'𝐬! 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

SYNOPSIS: It was a beginning of a new day for 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 and he'd make damn sure it was just as perfect as every other one. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 x reader (gender not specified) tw. possessive/obessive behaviour, control problems, decieving, yandere tendencies. A/N: It is an Alternative Univerese and based on a scene from a TV series "Amazing Mrs Maisel"

masterlist

He had to be quick and sleek. 

It was early in the morning, just some time before your alarm clock would ring. It was the sunrays that woke 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 up, bringing him back into the heaven on Earth he has come to know by your side. It’s a little trick he does the night before by leaving the curtains slightly open, since he couldn’t set an alarm clock himself.

You can’t know his little secret. 

So with one look filled with tenderness and love thrown at you, under the cloak of the early hours and shielded by you sleeping like a rock, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 sneaked out of your warm, shared bed.

He shivered, feeling cold only wearing his nylon*, frilly nightwear. Goosebumps appeared on his skin which he currently had no time to take care of.

"The winter is coming alright." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 thought, noticing how the windows in their bedroom frosted. He made a mental note to turn on the central heating as soon as go downstairs. But that’s for later, for now he carefully maneuvered his way to the bathroom right by your bedroom. 

The magic happened after he quietly closed the door, for now separating you from him. Left alone, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 began to make himself presentable for you. 

Starting with a cap of strong mouthwash, he then moved on to brushing his teeth so that his breath won’t stink and his teeth will continue to be clean and white. Then, he deeply cleaned his face of any leftover night creams he applied shortly after you fell asleep the previous night and applied a finish lotion. A dash of makeup on his eyelids, cheeks and lips so it’ll look natural. Then he proceeded to free his hair of curlers and brush through them until they laid into a certain hairstyle he always wore. And lastly, a few pumps of the perfume you gave him for his birthday. (He simply adores your choice of scent and never fails to wear it with pride)

Before walking out, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 took a moment to take a look at himself one last time. Anyone would say that his reflection showed a perfect image of the househusband you could often see in the magazines. Yet, the only opinion that mattered to him was yours. 

Everything he did – created and keeps creating – is for you. Only you. And he will gladly continue to do so for as long as you live.

With that, just like he left, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 re-entered your bedroom. Now after his morning routine, looking fresh and all pretty, his appearance was anything but a person who just woke up. He looked beautiful but at the same time, unreal. Unnaturally beautiful...

Swiftly, yet gracefully so that you wouldn't wake up before the alarm clock, he climbed back on your bed. Quickly, he adjusted the sheets around him, laid down on his side so that his back was turned towards you and took a deep breath, before finally closing his eyes.

Riiing! Riiing! Riiing!

The sound of your alarm clock rang precisely at 6:00 A.M. Blaring sound ripped away the peaceful silence and slowly aroused you from your deep sleep. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 had to refrain from smirking, as he felt the bed shift behind him. You were awake! 

And that meant one thing…

Seconds later, just like everyday, he felt your lips plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. A soft smile appeared on his face instead and a soft plush appeared under the blush he had applied. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 ‘woke up’ to your kiss, fluttering his eyes open. Much to his heart's joy, his gaze connected with yours. 

Your face was something he always wanted to wake up to. Your eyes were still sleepy, your face so lovely to look at and your hair all messy. In those mornings, you could just be you. His to admire, to touch, to experience. 

His, his, his…

"Good morning, sweetheart." Your raspy voice broke him out of the daze he fell into. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 eyes burned with love for you, gazing up at you like you were the only person existing in this world. He lifted his perfectly manicured and soft hand, placing it on your cheek and rubbing it affectionately.

"Good morning, darling." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟓𝟎’𝐬! 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 sent you his signature million dollar worth smile.

"Is it me or are you getting even more devine day after day?"

Yes, it was the beginning of another perfect day.

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[devildom-drabbles]

Snippet - Last Name

How would each of the demon brothers react to MC saying that they’ll give him their last name?

“There aren’t any demons or angels that have last names, right?” MC randomly questioned the demon brother they were spending time with.  “Why is that?”

The demon explained how the beings in the Devildom and Celestial Realm were given one-of-a-kind names to distinguish them from others, unlike how many humans can share the same (first) name.  As such, having a second name was unnecessary.  Titles were more common to further establish their individuality, such as “Morning Star” for Lucifer and “Jewel of the Heavens” for Asmodeus when the two of them were angels.

“Do you wish you had a last name?” MC inquired.

The demon was mostly indifferent on the matter, but he did mention how he particularly liked MC’s last name. 

“In that case, I’ll give you my last name someday,” MC remarked in a casual manner.

He opened his mouth to reply but paused upon realizing what MC might’ve been implying.  A human typically would only share their last name with someone else when they were getting married to that individual.

Lucifer felt a surge of pride in his chest at the notion that MC intended to offer their last name (and their hand in marriage) to him alone.  Still, from how nonchalantly they had presented the notion, he had to make sure that both of them understood it in the same way. “You’re aware of what that would mean for us, right?” he asked them.  “It’s not something to take lightly, even if I’m not human.”  After watching MC nod their head confidently, a small grin tugged at Lucifer’s lips.  “Good.  Seeing as how you already belong to me, MC, it’s only natural that your last name would become mine, as well.  I look forward to when that day officially comes.”  (Time to start planning a real marriage proposal, Lucifer thought to himself.)

Mammon managed to choke on his saliva when he pieced together what MC likely was implying, which, on the bright side, provided him with an excuse as to why his cheeks were flushed.  All the money and rare treasures in the Devildom could never compare to the value of having MC’s last name all to himself.  “Th-The Great Mammon accepts your gift!” he declared once he finished coughing.  “If you’re gonna give your last name to anyone, obviously it’s gonna be me.  That means no one else can have it, got it?  No changin’ your mind, either!  A-And...don’t take too long to hand it over to me, ‘cause I’m ready to take it anytime.”  (Well, first, Mammon just needed to narrow down the best ring to give MC from his secret growing collection.)

Leviathan could've probably rattled off the long title of a human world anime that had a scene similar to this—that is, if he wasn’t currently short-circuiting in front of MC.  “Y-Y-Y-You’d give your l-l-last name to a gross shut-in otaku like m-me?!” he asked incredulously.  “You mean it?!  Are you sure?!”  Once MC reaffirmed their promise, Levi was certain he could die happy (but not right now!).  “Oh man, it feels like I just unlocked the highest ranking class in an RPG!  MC, I’ll wear your last name proudly and do everything I can to make sure you won’t regret choosing me to have it!  ...Uh, when I do get your last name, I mean.”  (Levi started focusing more on anime and game content that included marriage as references for how to be a good husband for MC in the future.)

Satan was left dumbfounded for a moment as he processed what MC was telling him.  “So then, you’re saying...you want to marry me at some point, correct?” he bluntly questioned them.  MC confirmed his suspicion, which brought a light blush to his face coupled with a pleased smile.  Although there was no record of a demon and human ever marrying each other, he couldn’t deny that he also wanted this with MC.  “All right.  I’ll make your dream a reality, and in return, you’ll share your last name with me.  This means we’ll spend the rest of your days together, too.  Let’s build a love so strong it’ll be the envy of all romance novels and poetry.”  (Afterward, while he was researching human marriage customs, he suddenly wondered if the cats he wanted to adopt with MC would also acquire their last name.)

Asmodeus squealed and bounced cheerfully in place before wrapping his arms around MC in a tight embrace.  Normally the concept of being permanently tied to someone would be unappealing to Asmo, but those qualms became nonexistent when it involved MC.  “I love you so much, MC!  I’ll make you the happiest human in all the three realms as Asmodeus [Last Name]!  Oh wow, my name was already gorgeous by itself, but with your last name added to it, it’s even better!  Come on, let’s get a pre-engagement photo together.  I can’t wait to brag to everyone on Devilgram about this.”  (Since MC already offered him their last name, Asmo decided that he’d be the one to get them an engagement ring.  But if MC buys him one, too, he certainly won’t complain.)

Beelzebub’s eyes twinkled with pure joy at MC’s promise.  “Really?  I’d like that a lot, MC,” he told them.  His words may have been a bit of an understatement, considering MC’s declaration filled him with so much glee that it was enough to satisfy the seemingly endless void in his stomach.  He couldn’t hold back his wide grin as he took their hands in his own and continued, “When I have your last name, we can finally be our own family.  We’ll wake up together, make breakfast together, go out for lunch together, eat dinner together...  Oh, yeah, I guess we mostly do that already, but it’ll be even more special than it is now.  Hehe, I can’t wait.”  (Despite the frequent distractions of thinking about wedding cake, Beel did take active steps to ensure that he’d be able to actually receive their last name.)

Belphegor perked up in surprise from MC’s words, the constant nagging urge to sleep vanishing in an instant.  He feared he may have accidentally dozed off mid-conversation and only dreamed of MC wanting him to have their last name.  Fortunately, the look on their face assured him that he had been awake, so his expression softened into genuine delight as he replied, “Okay, I like the sound of that.”  Rather than ending it there, his mischief (and inner excitement) got the better of him, causing him to add, “Although, if you’re planning to give your last name to me, then that also means I can take it anytime I want, right?  Even if it’s sooner than you expect?  Because I might just do that.”  (Belphie now had an unusually high level of motivation to take the next step in his relationship with MC.)

[itstheghostofmypast]

Our Little Secret

Sergeant Choi San x (f) Criminal Reader ft.Wooyoung

Summary: Maybe he was not as bright as his superiors made him believe he was, or maybe he was just a fool, or maybe he was just a tool in a much larger game at play. Either way, one thing was for certain, Jung Wooyoung was impressed by a man who had one too many little secrets, some that he was to keep as well.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort Fluff

Warnings: mention of gunshots, mentions of r*pe (heavy stuff), panic attacks, illegal stuff, strong language- (Mc is a perv, sorry not sorry- lowkey San is the same)

Word Count: 7.8k

Read Time: 38 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

Rating: mature

A/N: I may have had a little too much fun writing this

Wooyoung hated this part of the job, ever since he had joined the force, he had wanted to do nothing but good, but here he was in the late hours of the night in a mansion that belonged to one of the many corrupt political figures that ruled the land. He had begged Captain Park not to put him on night parole, even insisted on doing all the paperwork for everyone, including the slacker Mingi, but the captain was in no mood for negotiation, instead, he had told him the sergeant would accompany him.

Truth be told, the officer was afraid of the sergeant, he had heard great stories about the man, and the first time the young officer had laid eyes on the mountain of a man, he began to believe the rumours. From his well-built body to his feline mannerism, the way he would walk with an air of pride around him, forcing those around to bow in respect, or fear, either way, it didn’t matter because Wooyoung knew one thing for sure- he wanted to be like Sergeant Choi. Due to this very reason, he had agreed to attend this nuisance of an event, a masquerade ball for the elite, filled with all activities which would be illegal if one were poor or even middle class. What confused him, however, was why the Sergeant had agreed to conduct this trivial task. Captain Park had mentioned how he had volunteered himself, even bringing the blueprints of the mansion and the surrounding gardens, speaking with the security teams at the place of function as well- trivial tasks that are often left to juniors like Wooyoung, so why was his superior doing all these things himself?

“Officer Jung, do you copy?”

The static voice rang in his ear, yes, they were given the state-of-the-art technology just for this freak show, the budget the Department of Defence was given had their captain shaking in his boots, which would explain why he was hell-bent on using every penny to the most ‘professional’ manner.

“Yes, Sergeant, loud and clear.”

“Good, the east wing is clear, I’m leaving the man ballroom now.”

“West wing is clear too, Sir.”

“Heading North, to the main gate. Keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.”

“Heading to the greenhouse at the back Sir.”

With that Wooyoung slowly started to walk down the stairs and out into the open, taking a deep breath, the crisp, chill of the night prickling against his warm skin, a shiver running down his spine, he thanked heaven that they were allowed to wear civilian clothes, San had insisted that it would be safer for them and the visitors this way. Ironically, he had chosen to wear a leather jacket, much like his superior, guess he had his boss somewhat figured out at such a quick pace- he really was smart, wasn’t he? Pulling the leather jacket closer to his form, he looked around the luxurious lawn, it was indeed pretty, with a variety of trees and flowers that one would only see in books or the internet, most of the species were not even native, but then again, then again, certain laws of physics or nature do not apply to the rich.

He was glad it was quiet though, a few more hours and this shit show would be finished by midnight, which meant he could go home in peace, and possibly expect some form of praise in the morning from his superiors. Speaking of superiors, he didn’t know much about the Sergeant, only that he was cold and ruthless, and incredibly gifted in the department of looks- apparently was smart too, and that he had a blackbelt- okay so maybe Wooyoung did know a lot about him, but it was all so textbook. He had no personal details on the man, only one thing, that he was married- but that was because of his wedding band that he saw the Sergeant wear in a makeshift necklace. The wedding band wasn’t even on his finger, and the only way he had seen the necklace was when the man had taken off his jacket, the ring toppled onto his shirt, earning a low groan from the man, though Wooyoung’s eyes quickly scanned the item, a simple silver band, hanging from a silver chain. He watched his superior gently tuck it back into his shirt, pressing it against himself for a quick second before sighing, as if he was afraid, he had almost lost it. That was the only glimpse Officer Jung had gotten of his superior that was not consistent with the rumours of his ruthless stature.

Opening the door to the greenhouse he stepped in, the strong scent of herbs hitting his nostrils, making his nose itch. Clicking his tongue in disapproval, he walked down the isle of potted parsley and mint, looking around for anything suspicious, not that there would be anything there. Or so he thought, for the moment he stood at the heart of the glass building, looking around with his hand on his hips, and he heard a little chime- a cat? No, this place was locked and he made sure to close the door behind him, he was sure of it, which is why he was about to dismiss the noise until he heard it again.

Slowly making his way to the source of the sound, he reached for his gun, being as quiet as possible, spotting a silhouette near the roses, and pointing his gun at the intruder he cleared his throat before ordering;

“Freeze! Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”

He was ready, he was oh so ready to prove to his superiors that he was well deserving of that promotion, he was ready to take down this- woman? He was not ready for this, visibly swallowing at the sight before him he tried to not look at anything but the kitsune mask of the woman.

“Miss, are you here by accident or…”

“Oh, honey if you think only men are criminals, then you are part of the problem.” her red lips stretched into a cocky smile, shifting as she leaned against the stand, the slit of her red satin dress shifting, showing a bit more leg than what Wooyoung would consider modest, though his glance served to be more useful than perverted, the silly little shiny pistol hooked to her black net garter caught his eye, the ribbons of the material gripping onto the gun.

“Eyes up here sweetie, my husband wouldn’t appreciate other men ogling at me like this.”

“Cut the crap,” spitting he aimed at her, “Take off the mask and get down on your knees.”

“Kinky.” Was all she said before something smacked against Wooyoung’s hand like a sharp slap, stinging his wrist his gun fell to the ground as he groaned, glaring up at the smirking woman who winked at him, finally noticing the black leather whip in her hand- did they even make whips this long?

He was about to reach for his gun on the ground before it was kicked away, her heel pressing against the back of his hand, “You’re cute, I’ll give you that, but I don’t have much time, cutie.”

Wooyoung was about to tackle her, only for her to smack him across the face with the back of her hand, the rings on her fingers stinging like hell as she made a run for it, laughing like a mad woman, her chuckles echoing across the greenhouse. Growling in frustration he grabbed his gun and ran after her, he knew he couldn’t shoot around like a madman, one shot would be enough, but the leg? No, she’d bleed out. The shoulder? He was hot on her tail, the red dress hard to miss, along with the sound of the bells hanging off the tussles of her mask, his fingers just grazed her dress before she took a sharp right.

“Shit” following after he stumbled behind the shelf, only to stop at the sight before him. The woman was pinned to the ground, her wrists pinned above her head, San’s grip tight as he watched her struggle under him.  “She has…a gun” Panting Wooyoung pointed at the now fully exposed leg, her dress had bunched up against her waist as the Sergeant’s lower half kept her legs apart, his free hand reaching for the gun, though Wooyoung could swear his boss was taking his sweet time, he could swear his boss was caressing the woman’s leg, somewhat toying with the garter before ripping it off her, earning a squeak from her followed by a whine.

“Enough.” His voice boomed, gripping her face he squished her cheeks hard, staring down at her, as she instantly stilled, looking up at him, not moving an inch. It was as if she was wired to his command- to have authority such as Sergeant Choi’s would be a dream come true for Wooyoung.

“Did you grab the kitty’s tail?”

“The what?”

“The whip Officer Jung, she calls it the kitty’s tail- you didn’t read the report last week, did you?”

“I umm- I’ll go get it, sir.” With that he ran back to the original scene of the crime, acquiring the whip that she had dropped on the way, probably while running away from him. When he had come back, San was locking her handcuffs, his rough movements causing her to wince, but when he tightened it against her wrist, she whimpered- and that is when he saw his superior freeze for a second, and if it were not for his cunning fox-like observation skills, he would’ve missed how San’s eyes had softened, his hand that was on the cuff loosened its grip, “Let’s go.” That was all he said before leading the two out the back entrance, claiming that the event was already over anyway and that they had to report to no one about their departure.

.

He glanced back at the woman in handcuffs, chin in palm as she admired the view outside. It was now that he got a good look at her, with her mask in her lap, she was beautiful, no, the word beautiful did not do her justice, so why was a woman as pretty as her involved in something as ugly as this? Wooyoung frowned when San took the turn to exit, unsure of what his superior was doing

"Sergeant Choi, I think you took a wrong-"he was cut off, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror, the lady still sitting in the same position, but her question caught him extremely off guard.

"Sannie, will you be home for dinner tonight? "

Did she just call him Sannie? Though San remained as nonchalant as well, "I didn't Wooyoung, don't worry." he answered only his junior ignoring the woman, this was the first time he had addressed Wooyoung by his name, what exactly was going on? Glancing at the side view mirror, San raised an eyebrow at her, she was sitting right behind the driver's seat, his seat, watching her pout and look at him through the reflection. A small whine made its way through the silent car.

"Come on Sannie~ you can't gimme the silent treatment forever?"

"Detective Jung?" his tone extremely authoritative and hard, earning a flinch from his junior, though the lady behind him just shivered, with something other than fear.

"S-sir its officer, the detective exam’s results aren’t out yet”

“You’ve passed Wooyoung.” He sighed, gripping onto the wheel a bit harder, as he pressed on the gas.

“Sir I- how, how do you know that?” he should have just been happy at the knowledge of his new title, but curiosity always got the better of this foxie, always wanting to know the answer behind the whys and the hows.

“I checked the exams- why do you think Seonghwa sent you with me tonight? They don’t send just anyone with me to such a high-profile case?”

“N-no Sir I-

Once again, he was cut off by a bratty whine, only this time she leaned forward, shifting so she was in between the two seats, her upper body leaning against the gearbox, turning to look at the Sergeant who did not glance away from the road;

“Sannie~ It’s been a week, this isn’t fair.”

"Wooyoung, open the glove compartment, there's a roll of tape there." he gestured to the glove compartment, "Tape her mouth shut for me, would ya."

"Sir!?"

"Sannie~ wait, hear me out-eep" she yelped almost as loud as the screech of the brakes, falling back as her back hit the leather with a thump, Wooyoung's own heart made its way to his mouth, ready to jump out in fear.

"Wooyoung. Tape. Her. Mouth."

As his junior fumbled with the glove compartment the Sergeant parked the car in a secluded area off the road, getting off and slamming the door shut. Wooyoung gulped as he noticed his superior’s body language, he had never seen him like this, what was he going to do with her? Should he save the woman? Were the rumours about him being a ruthless killer of ‘criminals’ going to be proven true after what he was going to do to this woman? Swinging open the car door from her side he pulled her out by her wrist, noting how she winced and looked up at him, "Sannie…you're hurting me." This caused his grip to loosen, though not enough to let go, not that she had any plans of escaping, his cold hard glare was enough to have her rooted at the spot, fumbling with her words- extremely out of character.

He had had enough of this, tonight was too close to be just a risk, she was lucky he was there, there was no way Seonghwa would let her go, and if this was some kind of sick trick to get his attention, he wasn’t interested in it, nor was he going to entertain it.

"San, I swear I was wearing my mask I-"

Her words were cut off by the sudden pressure of his lips, his body pressed flush against hers, pressing it against the car door. Her cuffed hands gripped onto his jacket and pulled him ever closer as his hand at the base of her neck gave her a little squeeze as if warning her to not test him, though a muffled giggle broke past her lips as he slowly parted, the hand on her waist pressing into her. She didn’t care about how rough he was being or how he wasn’t even crouching down properly to meet her halfway, having her stand on her toes just to feel him close, she didn’t care because at least he was giving it to her now, his attention. With their foreheads pressed together, he gazed down at her gentle features portraying nothing but innocence- false innocence, but the sincerity in her eyes was what always had his knees buckling. The sincerity of love that she had for him, letting him catch her every time, letting him into her world, into her life- truth be told it wasn't her who fell into his trap, but it was him who was wrapped around her pinkie.

Wooyoung cleared his throat, "Ummm…" Extremely baffled by what had just broken out, he had not just seen his superior fully make out with a criminal- was this legal? Well, technically no- wait was this harassment? Or no, she did call him Sannie, did they know each other?

With a slight chuckle, she stood on the tip of her toes to peck her lover's cheek, "Didn't know you were into that stuff…the audience turning you on huh, never knew my husband was so kinky?"

In an instant the tape was snatched from Wooyoung's hand and smacked across her pretty red lips as she stared at him wide-eyed, a bit confused, a bit scared, but oh so in love.

"Be a good little wife and stay quiet, no need to traumatise my junior even more than you already have."

With that he forced her back inside the car and went to sit on his seat, leaving a sweaty-palmed Wooyoung standing there in complete, utter shock - possibly turned on too- wait- WIFE? Suddenly her statement about her husband rang in his ears, she had mentioned a husband before- was he? Was this man an enemy of the law or a loyal servant of the law? Wooyoung stood there grounded, confused about what to do and what had just happened. Perhaps he had stood there a bit too long, clenching and unclenching his sweaty fists but the driver's door opened again, causing him to flinch, unsure if he was about to move to the car or reach for his gun, he wasn't sure but before he could decide his senior opened the backdoor. He watched another scene of confusion unfold before him, San shrugged off his jacket, and crouched down into the car, placing it over her torso, and tucking it around her upper body, "There, now you're all warm."

Wooyoung was dead sure he heard San chuckle, but the muffled whining was louder. Standing up straight he closed the car door and turned to look at Wooyoung, his white T-shirt clinging onto his well-built frame, the ring in his necklace glimmering under the streetlight. Just who was this man?

"Wooyoung, if you aren't comfortable with this I-"

Huffing the junior stomped to the other side of the car, slamming the door shut. Shaking his head in defeat San let out an airy chuckle, staring up at the stars, "Man, I just attract brats, I'm sure of it."

.

"You know…this is illegal right?"

They had been driving in silence for almost thirty minutes before Wooyoung had decided to slice the tension. What bothered him more was how it was only he who could feel this tension, the lady at the back was literally snoring away in wonderland and his boss was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other was resting on the armrest, casually drumming against the material.

"Hmmm? What is?"

"This. She's a criminal! We literally caught her-"

"Doing what? Looking at flowers? In a mask? It was a masquerade ball, Detective." he sighed, already using the new title for his junior, who hissed in disapproval, who was this man, where was the man of great stature and moral value that he looked up to since his trainee days.

"You know what I mean, you're becoming an accomplice to a crime and-"

"Then report me Wooyoung." he slammed the brakes, causing the younger one to squeak, holding onto the handle, thanking God that he was wearing a seatbelt, his eyes wide with fear as he looked at his superior staring dead ahead as he mumbled, "Report me if you must, but I'd be damned if any of you try to lay a finger on her again."

"Again? What do you mean-"

Once again, he was left hanging as the man got out of the car slamming his door shut, the entire car swaying in the process. He turned to look at him again when the back door opened, though he noticed the way the woman shook her head and scooted away from him, causing him to sigh, he looked so…defeated. Was she scared of him? Wooyoung's eyes flickered to the woman, his profiler skills on overdrive, what if he read it wrong, what if he was supposed to save this woman from the sergeant? He noted the way her eyes had watered, tears threatening to slip at any given moment, waiting for the last push- he still wasn't sure about their dynamics, what if none of this was consensual? She kept on pulling back until her back pressed against the door, legs pulled closer to her chest as she shook her head, heavy tears dripping down her cheeks, her mascara running like a stream, her entire form shaking, her sobs muffled by the tape- this was not the woman who had smacked him across the face, this was not the woman who had stomped her heel on his hand, this was but a mere broken, scared little girl.

"Sir-" For the third time tonight Wooyoung had reached for his gun, ready to shoot anyone who he thought was suspicious at this point.

"I won't go…I promise I won’t, he explained it to me and I- f*ck I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." His head hung in disappointment, eyes not even meeting hers, palms pressing on the seat, “I’m staying, I swear I won’t leave again.” He whispered reaching for her once more, his hand resting on her ankle, thumb stroking the skin, Wooyoung noticed the way she visibly relaxed a bit, manoeuvring to let him pull her out, he reached for her cuffed hands, pulling them over his head, their faces inches away from each other as he gave her a gentle, dimpled smile- that was new. What he did not expect was for San to completely ignore him, as the Sergeant pulled out his wife in one swift motion, holding onto her bridal style as her muffled squeak echoed across the empty street, followed by his laugh.

He kicked the door open, smiling at the little meow that resonated across the empty hallway, coming to greet her parents, she had indeed spent a week with her distressed mother and in the absence of her father, especially after witnessing the two in a full-blown argument, must have scared the little fur ball.

“Byeol, didn’t I tell you to watch mommy, while I was away?” he called out to the cat that walked beside him, making sure to rub against his leg as he slowly sat her down on the couch, reaching to scratch his baby’s head, only to stop when she gently tugged at the ends of his hair, before her fingers slowly caressed the nape of his neck, arms still looped around his shoulders. He glanced up at her sheepishly, smiling at her, “Sorry, forgot about that,” reaching up he reached for the tape, “I’ll go slow, okay?” nodding at him she looked at him determined, and ready. He did it slowly, making sure he caused minimal pain, and glad he kept the paper tape in the car, usually for their little activities, any other tape would’ve hurt more.

Sighing she licked her dry lips, looking down at her lover, “Won’t you kiss me?” she whispered before turning her head to look at the newcomer, as soon as Byeol hissed, “Nevermind, officer cramped-undies is here, he’s allergic to love.” she mumbled, glaring at Wooyoung who was glaring back at her with the same intensity.

Shaking his head at the two San pulled her arms over his head, undoing her cuffs, and tossing them away somewhere, the clinking of the metal attracting the cat that went running across the room to it. Grabbing her right hand he hummed, gently applying pressure, taking in her reaction, “Sorry, didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay, Sannie.” She smiled, placing her left hand over his, “I’ve been through worse.” Wooyoung noticed the way he froze at her words, his smile turning into a deep frown, glaring at the ground for a split second before shaking his head, and looking up at her with a gentle smile, “I’ll be back.” With that he stood up, gesturing to Wooyoung to follow him as the two made their way into the kitchen, that was across the hall. Wooyoung stood next to the marble island in the centre of the dark kitchen, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, watching his superior rummage through the cabinets mumbling stuff, “Ah…I told her not to change the place…tsk…this woman never listens to me…where are you…hah! Gotcha.” Like a cat filled with pride and glee after catching a mouse, he turned around with shining eyes, only to pause when he realised it was not his wife, he had turned to but his junior who wore an extremely sour expression, with the whole blank eyes and deep frown, the complete look.

Clearing his throat San looked at him, nodding as if he were grateful to his junior for not reporting him- yet. Wooyoung raised an eyebrow before pulling up the Kitsune Mask, “Care to explain?” his voice held a certain edge to it, more importantly, San knew that wasn’t a question, but an order- wow, he really did attract brats.

“I…” sighing in defeat he nodded, before gesturing to his face, “Apply this, it’ll stop the bruising, just let me patch her up first and…try to get along with her, she’s just been on edge today.” He mumbled walking out of the kitchen after placing a tube of ointment on the counter beside Wooyoung, who scoffed, she was his wife, not Wooyoung’s so why was he supposed to bear her tantrums?

San walked into the living room where she was trying to undo the strings of her heels with one hand, grumbling at the way she had tightened the knots. Placing the medicine box beside her on the couch, he gently pulled away her hand, mumbling a ‘let me’ before his nimble fingers began to work on the knots and strings, “Running in heels is dangerous.” He concluded, taking off her heels and placing them beside him, his baby girl had expensive taste, that was for sure, much like her psychotic brother- biology be damned.

“Are you going to be in trouble Sannie?” she asked, eying Wooyoung who had sat across the three-seater on the opposite loveseat, watching the scene unfold with a blank stare, honestly at this point, he was somewhat intrigued by the way his boss was swooning over his wife, the delicate intimacy making him a bit jealous due to the lack of a partner in his life. Morally, he wasn’t sure where he stood anymore, but this was a side of the Sergeant he had been dying to see, so who was he to deny the favour God had bestowed upon him?

“I don’t think so,” he muttered, opening the box to pull out her makeup wipes, he pulled one out, reaching for her face with his other hand, cupping her cheek, eyes instinctively closing, "But I swear you're in so much trouble." His warning had her eyes snapping open with a pout, though he clicked his tongue and grunted, "Hold still, close your eyes." But she grabbed his hand, staring at it, before meeting his eyes, "Your…ring…You took it off- I- did I- You- I mean we-" her breath hitched, another wave of nausea hit her, the all too familiar ringing in her ears resurfacing. "Hey- no, no, no love, look at me." He gently patted her cheek with the wet tissue, the hand she was holding onto rubbed soothing circles on her thigh, "I didn't remove it, just wore it here" Pulling back he plucked out the necklace from under his shirt, "See, " holding the chain up for her to see, the ring dangling off it, "Just kept it hidden, to keep you safe, okay? You're okay, I'm okay….we're okay." he whispered back, bringing her hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to her palm, watching her sniffle, "Now, close your eyes, no more crying, or I swear I'll cry", waiting for her to follow instructions, glad when she did, with that, he gently began to clean up the streaks of mascara and residue of her makeup, hand working like clockwork, impressing Wooyoung, much like how he had handled her panic attack- what exactly was going on here, how did San know what to do? Had he perhaps done this before? Why did the sight before him make him feel like he was intruding on something personal, should he leave?

"Wooyoung?" his mental debate came to a halt when his superior called him, looking at his broad back, his face still turned to his wife, smiling up at her, as she looked down at him. She was…beautiful- no, she was charming, her freshly cleaned skin radiating with an alluring glow, almost inviting- was she a siren?

"Wooyoung, if you're done staring at my wife like a perverted teenager-"

"Sannie" she stopped him, as soon as she noticed how the younger one was blushing, clearing his throat as he looked everywhere but at the couple.

"I.I wasn't Sir- I-"

"The ointment." was all San, craning his neck to glare at the man, his eyes cold and hard, swirling with jealousy- possessive huh?

"Yes, sorry, here." scurrying over to the couch he placed it in San's open palm, pausing to glance at his wife- wanting to get a closer look at what may have been his first and only interaction with an angel. Sergeant Choi did strike a deal with lady luck on this one, her features were not only soft and delicate, much like her gentle gaze, especially how she was staring down at her husband with endearment that had him almost vomiting, but her overall persona had changed, not like the devious little being he had encountered at the greenhouse.

"There." Pulling on a cute bow he looked up at her with a smile, "Go change, dinners on me tonight." Standing up straight he side-eyed Wooyoung who stumbled back at the sudden proximity of the taller man, he didn't realise he was standing so close to the two. Cupping her face his thumbs caressed the swollen area of her undereye, her eyes closing at the gesture, nodding when we whispered gently "Go."

With that she was gone, leaving the two men alone, Wooyoung standing there looking somewhat guilty- even though he wasn't part of any of the crimes committed tonight.

"Come on, you want chicken flavour or cheese-flavoured ramen?" San asked, calling him over his shoulder earning a sound of disapproval from his junior, "What?"

"You're going to feed your wife instant ramen?"

"I was going to feed you too, but if you'd rather be ungrateful then who am I to force you."

"Sir?"

"What?"

"Let me cook. Please."

That's how Choi San found himself sitting at the barstool at the kitchen island, somewhat glad how big it was, his wife was right, the bigger the better- for kitchen appliances, mind you. On the opposite end of the countertop, Wooyoung was silently chopping vegetables, done with carrots, green onions and now the cabbage, this couple ate well, and had good taste in produce as well- Wow Jung Wooyoung, so much for begging God to let you know more about your boss, should've asked for something else instead, like a million bucks or something.

San admired the way the younger man was working, he knew Wooyoung was a hard worker, but his skill and expertise amazed him, also made him realise he attracted brats, but those brats knew how to cook.

"Who is she?" Wooyoung asked, sliding the diced cabbage into the strainer, "What are you involved in please tell me now, I'm at the ripe age of my youth so I can jump careers unlike you-"

"I'm literally only three years older than you."

"My point exactly."

Shaking his head in disbelief San signed, resting his chin on his palm, "You really are something else, huh?"

"I've been called worse, Sir."

"She's…Kim Hongjoong's sister." he began only to stop when Wooyoung slammed the butcher knife onto the board, "THE KIM HONGJOONG? HEAD OF MATZ? THE SOLAR DRAGON? THE MAN WHO KILLS WITH JUST HIS GAZE??? THE SAME MAN YOU ARRESTED- how- HOW DID YOU GET HIS SISTER TO MARRY YOU?" His shrilly voice echoed around the kitchen as San rubbed his temples, God was testing him today.

"First of all, yes, not biological, the two grew up at the same orphanage and secondly, I did arrest him but no one knows she's his self-proclaimed sister- well, other than Seonghwa" he mumbled, pulling off his necklace and staring at the ring,  "I remember being like you, believing in the system, believing in the goodness of people, that those who are innocent are never wronged- I was a fool, this entire system is whack and for some reason, fate decided to send me a stray that was abused enough to convince me about how wrong I was."

Wooyoung watched him in silence, placing the dirty dishes in the sink as he turned on the electric stove, "I… see." was all he said, waiting for the water to boil, "Do you have garlic paste?"

"In the fridge, I think." San pointed at the fridge before sighing, "How much do you know about Hongjoong's mission?"

Opening the fridge the man stared at the neatly stacked containers of food, all untouched, if San didn't come home for a week, why was there so much food there? Was she…waiting for him? Making him dinner every night? The knot in his stomach twisted a bit too tight as he sighed, closing the fridge, “You were undercover for a year, by the end of it, you captured the Matz leader and most of the gang."

"Did you know Kim Hongjoong came to me himself?"

"What?"

"Exactly," exhaling he pulled the ring out of the chain, slipping it back on his finger, all snug, where it belonged, "I started the mission as an undercover agent. I was part of an underground fight club, one of the many Hongjoong owns- Django." he nodded to Wooyoung who was adding strips of meat to the bowling broth, "It was fine, the usual bullshit, took me a few months to even get recognition, but one thing was for sure, everyone feared Hongjoong, everyone but one person- his advisor."

"And… that was her?" he asked, deciding to take out the side dishes she had packed away in the fridge.

"Yeah…" Reaching for the mask he admired the details, memories flooding back, "We never saw her face, this mask was who she was, she was quick and agile as a cat, but Hongjoong's favourite. She was also my meal ticket to her brother. After a match I was about to leave when I heard a scuffle, honestly, I was going to leave but the bell" Shaking the mask the bell resonated in the kitchen, and the only other sound present was of the boiling broth, "I knew it was her so I went to check, a few guys had cornered her, I don't know why, maybe she was tired that day, maybe they were physically stronger, but while one held onto her the other reached for her mask and that's when I snapped, all I remember was my hands were bloody and before I knew it I was being taken to meet Hongjoong."

"You saved her?" he asked, as he opened a few cabinets, before looking at San who pointed at the one at the far right, "Plates and bowls are there. Cutlery is in the drawer." With a thankful nod, Wooyoung motioned him to continue.

"Yeah, I did. I was assigned as her bodyguard. I wanted to be Hongjoong's but usually, where you'd find her, you'd find Hongjoong and the other way round." he took a deep breath, “Either way, I realised this little cat burglar was more than just a petty thief, she was his eyes and ears, his map maker, she was Hongjoong’s prized possession. I gained a good number of business details, the only problem was that I also began to learn about her, and how she’d be at school during the day- only a handful of people had seen her face and somehow, I had made it to the list.” Chuckling he placed the mask down, looking at Wooyoung who was busy setting the cutlery, “the first time I had seen her without her mask, I swear I froze up, I never thought I was religious but when I saw her, her gentle eyes to the slope of her nose to her flushed cheeks, I was sure of one thing, God really did make angels and I had just seen one in the flesh.” Wooyoung paused at the statement, only mere minutes ago he had held the same sentiments, but something else got to him too, which he bluntly put forth, “You fell for her?”

“Hard…I fell hard.”

“So …did you like…”

“No” he shook his head, “I was a hot-headed officer on my way to a promotion, like hell, I was going to give in to her, I entertained her fantasies but…never took any advantage of her, she made it difficult though,” he chuckled before sighing when Wooyoung sat down across him, plating the dishes, “I was at the precinct one-night when Hongjoong came over, offered a deal, he said, and I quote;

‘Congrats f*cker, you have my sister wrapped around your finger and she won’t let me make an example out of you, so I come with a deal, take me in- but remove her from all your papers, she never existed- ya got me?’

I didn’t think Seonghwa would agree, but even Sergeant Park Seonghwa was looking for a promotion, so we agreed, The next day we raided the HQ and got a good chunk of their top men, including Hongjoong and she was nowhere near in sight.”

“So you married her after?” Wooyoung asked, placing a bowl of rice in front of San who shook his head.

“No, I hated her, I felt like it was wrong, even if she wasn’t directly involved, she was being protected by the law. But who was I to argue? I remember, a few weeks later she came to see me at the precinct, I remember ignoring her and walking out, she literally followed after me, told me she was going to start on a clean slate, and that she could change for me.” He sighed, staring at his soup, cabbage soup, wow, maybe he should invite Wooyoung over more, “I feel like that was my fault because the very moment I told her that the sight of her disgusted me, every inch of my being hated her- she looked…so scared that night like she had lost her purpose.”

Frowning at him Wooyoung mumbled, “But…she wanted to change!”

“I know, I was a d*ck, I was arrogant, the youngest detective in the precinct, the golden boy, and she did change, went to school regularly, got her degree, hell she even got a decent job- she approached me again after that,” he sighed, before reaching to grab her plate, adding a good portion of rice and meat.

“Did you…you know, accept it?” Wooyoung asked before stuffing his face with the kimchi his wife had prepared for him, man an angel that can cook.

“No.” placing her plate down San glanced at the clock, she was gone for almost 40 minutes, must’ve been in the tub, “Worse, I led her to the worst night of her life, I broke her. We met at a club, by accident of course, I never went to clubs anyway, but when I got promoted to Sergeant, Seonghwa was simultaneously promoted to Captain, and they took us to celebrate. I met her there, she was out with some friends- she approached me, sweet as ever, though I bit back, told her to get lost, that I wouldn’t even care if she even disappeared off the planet.”

Wooyoung visibly winced at the choice of words, truly amazed by the harshness of his superior, especially after witnessing the love he had for his wife, waiting for him to continue.

“I lost her that night, only saw her getting in a cab with her friends, saw the guys too- honestly I thought to myself that night ‘so much for I love you San’. But that was my fault, I should’ve noticed how her eyes were clouded, I should’ve seen how her so-called friends were carrying her stumbling form, how they were handling her, how the guys were touching her.” He paused before letting out a shaky breath, “The next morning I remember reading an online article about another horrendous case, only this time, I knew the victim. I went to Seonghwa, the first thing I could do but he had beaten me to it, he had taken the case to the superiors who had shut it down, you know why?” he asked Wooyoung.

“Because it involved rich kids?”

“Not just any rich kids, Minister Lee’s useless son and his friends- honestly, I was more horrified by the fact that the girls were in on it, the case was closed before it even reached court. I couldn’t let it go though, I tried to contact her, but she wouldn’t even let me see her at the hospital, the nurses told me to leave and when I pushed my way through…I saw not my angel in her glory, but someone whose wings were ripped off- the way she looked at me that day, it’s like she could see through me, with the same disgust I showed to her for several years.”

“What did you do?”

“The only thing I could do, I went to Hongjoong.”

“Did he…”

“Beat me up? Yeah, the man runs the prison too, and I was foolish enough to tell him that I had met with his sister before the crime, and while he was busy breaking my fingers he asked me this one question, ‘Who does your system serve? A rich kid with STDs or a civilian girl trying to rebuild her life?’ I know that was all it took for me, for Seonghwa, that’s when we realised this is more than just some way of life, no, we were wearing the badges of honour, but we were on the wrong side.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, he beat me up so bad I was knocked out when I woke up, I remember Seonghwa standing by my hospital bed, asking me, ‘Do you want to do the right thing?’ and I said yes. The next thing I knew as soon as I could walk again, I was at her apartment, she didn’t let me in though, but I never stopped, I’d go there each night, sit outside her door, listening to her cry at the other end. One day though, when I was about to ring the doorbell she opened the door, looked up at me, and asked me, why I’d come every night and honestly the only explanation I had was, that if there was one person, I’d give up everything for, it would be her.”

Sighing he chugged down a glass of cold water, “Things were…okay, Seonghwa and I became part of the crew, unofficially of course, we still did our jobs, she still went to work, we bought an apartment together, lived together, did everything’s couples would do. One night she asked me if I’d still love her if she took back what they took from her, she wanted to burn out the fire and there was only one way…”

“What did you…say?”

“I said I’d protect her either way.”

“So…his son didn’t technically…”

“No, he didn’t decide to end his life, she did.” He shrugged, “Who was I to stop her, I am merely her husband and her bodyguard.”

“Wait.” Wooyoung cleared his throat, “So…why did you two…I mean- what- this entire week? Why’d you fight?”

“Oh- that!” shaking his head San sighed, “Obviously Hongjoong wasn’t done with his act of vengeance, I told him it was stupid and reckless and rejected the idea, it's been years and we needed her to not think about it anymore. Though I was supposed to assign two officers for tonight’s duty, and then last week my maps were missing, I suspected it was her, that she gave them to her brother and we fought…she was angry, I was scared of losing her again and well things escalated- I didn’t believe her, until last night, that’s why I removed Officer Song as your partner for tonight, even if Hongjoong wasn’t involved, I didn’t want to risk any chances of her being there- I knew she stopped after she took his son’s life, but knowing how the two crave for blood of the rich, I needed to be sure I’d keep her out of any danger”

“Sannie!” she called out, the padding of her bear feet echoed across the floor as she came running into the kitchen, both men turning to look at her, though Wooyoung instantly looked away, clearing his throat and San sighed, “Where are your pants?”

“Pants?” tilting her head, a bit confused she looked down at her usual sleepwear, his shirt, it was big enough, covered her till her thighs, plus she was wearing her undies, “Forget that- look, did you know Joong’s gonna come visit us tomorrow?”

Choking on his spit, Wooyoung turned to stare at her wide-eyed, what did she just say?

“What???”

“Kitten, what are you saying,” gesturing for her to come closer, she sat down beside San, eying the food before showing San the food, “Apparently Minister Lee’s house caught fire- crisp like burnt chicken I hear,” she giggled before turning to smile at Wooyoung, that smug smile reminding her of a sly cat, “Didn’t know you could cook.”

Forcing a smile Wooyoung muttered, “I can, Mrs.Choi.”

“Thank you for the meal.”

“Anytime.”

“Holy shit…” San sighed, “Seonghwa is gonna have a stroke, I swear- did you- did you do this??” he turned to look at her, sighing and reaching to grab her empty glass and filling it with water as she shook her head, “No, of course not, I told you I didn’t even know the layout of his house.”

“Then what were you doing there?” he asked, finally, the right question Wooyoung thought to himself.

“Because I knew you’d be there.”

San felt like his heart was about to combust, wanting to fall into her palm, letting her squeeze it to her contentment, like a little girl with her favourite teddy bear.

“I knew you’d be there.” She smiled, leaning closer to grab his hand and admire the wedding band, right where it belonged, right where they belonged. Wooyoung could only smile in disgust, this act of pure, blind passion making him envious.

“Oh, he did text me though.”

The two men looked at her, waiting for her to speak up, but like any persistent, stubborn feline she had them wait, only continued when San poked her side, earning a giggle, “He said he wants to meet Offic- sorry- Detective Jung. Seonghwa approved of him too.”

“WHAT?” Wooyoung shrieked in disbelief earning a sigh from San, “Well, welcome to the team brat.”

“WAIT NO! I”

She giggled leaning over the table to smile at him, San’s arm instinctively wrapping around her frame, pulling her into him, “It can be our little secret~”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie @marsvillee

[edges-of-night]

Hey! I love your hc’s and was wondering if I could request for how the members of the fellowship react to aphrodisiacs?

If you don’t want to do this or think it’s odd that’s totally fine; but I find the trope of “sex pollen” or things along those lines fun

Ik this is anon but I swear on everything I am 21 lol

Indeed a fun idea, nonnie! I think this is the first NSFW request on this blog too, so I couldn’t let it slide 👀 Enjoy!

Heads-up: Aphrodisiac/sex pollen tropes might entail dubcon. While there is no explicit dubcon or noncon in this post, please proceed with care if the topic is sensitive for you.

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･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

As a ranger, Aragorn is well-versed with herbs and flowers that can serve as an aphrodisiac or be turned into one. He is very particular with which ones to use and not really interested in “store-bought” variants. Elven knowledge is quite helpful regarding making his own aphrodisiacs for the two of you; he prefers to only use them on special occasions. Since the topic is delicate for many Humans, Aragorn prefers to keep them a secret between you two – after all, this is about intimacy ♡

Reaction: like a power surge, short but sweet

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･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Since there is a sort of taboo around aphrodisiacs in Gondor, Boromir is quite excited to learn more about them when you suggest them for your sex life. He is so curious and eager about them that he ends up wondering why someone wouldn’t use them to give a special spice and magic to their trysts – especially considering the immense variety of flavours and scents. That said, Boromir always has your comfort as his top priority, so he would not pressure you into anything you wouldn’t want to do. To you, he’s nothing but a gentleman!

Reaction: strong, to the point of exhaustion once the effects wear off

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･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Hobbits value aphrodisiacs as much as smoking, drinking, dancing, and other hedonistic aspects of their culture, and Frodo is no different – though maybe a bit more distinguished than other Hobbits. He has a small collection of fancy little phials and is open to using them should you desire so anytime. All of them have pleasant scents and tastes, like strawberries or jasmine. Frodo in general is very normal about sexual experimentation and always communicates clearly so that the two of you are sure to have a good time ♡

Reaction: mild to normal

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･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

While other Wizards might think of aphrodisiacs as a poor use of magic for mere “petty-minded fooling around” (I am looking at Saruman), I think Gandalf’s playful nature and his contact to Hobbit culture would make him want to indulge in the occasional aphrodisiac from time to time, be it in the form of herbs, potions, spells, or items. On top of that, he would use magic to create certain illusions or sensations to make you feel good. He doesn’t have limitless curiosity though, and he would not speak about this to anyone but you.

Reaction: none to mild, depending on the sort

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･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

For years, Gimli has been convinced that he has no need or want for aphrodisiacs in his love life. So perhaps, when you first suggest using them for the two of you, he would not really know what to say. However, I figure he would be open to trying them out when you ask him, too. Not only that: Dwarves have brilliant ingenuity and dexterity, so maybe Gimli would come up with a new aphrodisiac entirely catering to your personal needs and/or kinks, perhaps even in the form of a magic-induced gem.

Reaction: mostly prolonged stamina, normal

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Not only do I headcanon the Elves as entirely open to sexual experimentation with toys and kinks – they even take a certain pride in it. They are at the forefront when it comes to aphrodisiacs, and Legolas is no different. He has a few staples in his collection that have become his personal trustful companions over the years, like magic-induced flowers and candles, and is eager to try out whatever you bring into your bedroom as well. He would answer any questions of yours regarding the aphrodisiacs in his “Lembas voice”: proud of the Elvish traditions but still casual.

Reaction: very strong, since he is already so passionate

.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

While Merry doesn’t keep any aphrodisiacs for himself, he has no inhibitions to trying something out when you suggest it. I like the idea that they could help him let himself fall and really enjoy sex, since Merry tends to be controlled by his head instead of his emotions, or even aspires to be more of a “thinking type”. Aphrodisiacs could provide him with the opportunity of rawness and freedom in a way he hasn’t known before – and I think he would enjoy that very much ♡

Reaction: strong and freeing

.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Growing up in Hobbit culture, Pippin is used to aphrodisiacs – or at least talking about them. He has at least once fallen prey to swindlers who convinced him of spending lots of money on some much-praised herb, only to find out later it doesn’t do anything (other than smelling nice). Pippin would also experiment a lot with what works for the two of you and what doesn’t, and always voice clearly if something wasn’t for him. Perhaps he would brag about his newest discovery with other Hobbits – if only to get another tip in return.

Reaction: physically little, but boosted mentally

.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

I don’t think Sam would enjoy aphrodisiacs very much – for a couple of personal reasons, ranging from “It’s just that I’ve yet to find one that doesn’t taste like stale biscuits” to “It wouldn’t feel right, y’know?”. Sam is a big romantic and proud to always provide you with the right mood by preparing candles, nice pillows, maybe a fireplace on cold nights, or even starlit trysts in a sunflower field, to name a few examples. I think he would nip at your favourite potion just to have tried it once but still be fine with you calling him old-fashioned. After all, this is about having a good time!

Reaction: none

.

･ﾟ✧ Bonus: Haldir.

I’m including Haldir in this one because I have a random headcanon of him being comically scared of aphrodisiacs haha! After all, they might expose his buried feelings that he works so hard to hide, almost like a truth serum. I also imagine he would expect such a potion/flower/herb to taste nasty, smell funny, and just all around not be for him. But as written above, I imagine the Elves to be very open to sexual experimentation, so dear Haldir would be a “prude” in their eyes. You can read more about my headcanons on him on this older NSFW post.

Reaction: that's a secret! 😉

[love-for-faeries-go-burrrr]

NSFW Alphabet with Rocket Raccoon

Warning: Sexual Alphabet, Explicit, Kinks & More.

Asks are Open! (Please I need Inspo / knowing people want to see my writing)

(tagged a few Rocket writers who I thought may enjoy at the bottom can be removed if asked + can add people to a taglist if requested)

A = After Care: Will do anything and everything you need to make you feel cared for. Maybe even bandage you up if he dug his claws into your skin too hard. Would love to just lay on your chest after.

B = Body Part: Rocket's favorite body part is your hands, just adores them, his little paws in your hands? Or seeing you use your hands while giving him a blow/hand job? Perfect, bonus points if you keep them manicured or painted a color reminding you of him.

C = Cum: Breeding Kink, boy loves to cum inside you, but always asks where you want it before he cums. You must wait for permission to cum, but he won't make you wait too long.

D = Dirty Secret: When tinkering with his machines, sometimes he imagines making machines he can use on you. Would definitely get a certain idea and note it down for later, hell, even stop what hes doing and start creating a machine for your pleasure as he's rock hard.

E = Experience: Rocket's had some lovers but it was never personal, with you it's different, he wants you to feel how much he loves you, he wants to degrade then praise you over and over so you know how amazing you are but also know you're his.

F = Favorite Position: Pretzel Dip, hear me out, he gets to see your breasts bounce up and down, your face, and dig his claws into your thigh & ass as he slams into you? The man already jerked off just to the idea of it.

G = Goofy: Rocket just has some moments in between degrading and praising you, "Fuck... you really are so fucking hot princess" and he just has a smile to himself at how lucky he is. Maybe even laugh thinking about people before who have hit on you, imagine them seeing you now a sloppy mess beneath him.

H = Hair: Rocket knows he has that 'rugged' look, but if he knows he's definitely getting it from you tonight? Dude is taking the cleanest shower of his life, brushing out that tail if you've made a comment about it before, would take hella pride in his appearance. Or if you like him 'dirtier' he'd wear his signature blue cut-off and fuck you until you can't stand.

I = Intimacy: You have this raccoon's full attention, boy will hold back his orgasms to ensure you ride out yours first. He will study your body, the way you react even with the smallest reactions, the way your lips twitch when he flips your clit, he will know what makes you go crazy in no time.

J = Jack Off: Anything reminds you of him, a smell similar to your perfume, if he ever had a voice recording of yours even if you aren't saying anything sexual he'll use it to pleasure himself. The longer in between seeing you, the more he jerks off missing you, and the rougher you'll be handled next time.

K = Kink: Pain Kink, graphic to an extent, will stop if you truly don't want it but wants to tie you up, slap your ass, nip at your collarbone, claw at your ass. Your sounds of pain mixed with pleasure drive him crazy. Always loves to overstimulate you, where you can barely breathe because your body is trembling from the pleasure.

L = Location: Anywhere, in an alleyway, in the captain's seat, on the kitchen table when the other guardians are gone. Love's to know later on when he walks by and looks at a piece of furniture and can pinpoint how he made you cum there.

M =Motivation: If you're shy or bold about it, either response will rile him up. Shy about it? Man will have you moaning so loud the neighborhood knows you. Bold about it? You'll be put in your place and begging to be able to cum.

N = No: You cannot be in power and tie him up, brings back memories of feeling powerless.

O = Oral: Cunnilingus, Anilingus, Rocket is a pro at all of them the combo of his quick fingers with his rather long and agile tongue is a recipe for constant orgasms. Prefer's to give because of how you squirm but adores if you give because sometimes bro just needs to be reminded he can be cared for too.

P = Pace: Fast, always trying to give you that high, but loves to go agonizingly slow whenever you are close, must remind you that he can give you the high only if you deserve it.

Q = Quickie: Definitely down for it, especially if you are the one who initiates it. "You're my whore" he whispers in your ear as he fucks you in the shared shower. Hearing Drax bang at the door asking whos in there, he gets an "I'll be done in a minute" response as Rocket repositions you and shoves his cock down your throat to fuck face you.

R = Risk: Rocket is willing to try almost anything you want, where you want it, as long as he always has some sort of power in the situation.

S = Stamina: You always finish first, on the rare occasion you don't you won't even know, Rocket will just grin and fuck you harder, refusing to give you the satisfaction of knowing you made him cum first. If you call him out on it you get a simple "You're dreamin princess..." as he shoves your face into the bed and makes you squirm.

T = Toys: Will use anything and everything you want, but if his dick feels ignored he will take that vibrator out of you so fast and slam himself inside of you so you do not forget who truly owns you. Use's toys to his advantage but can be cocky and want to pleasure you more than they do.

U = Unfair: Rocket will bring you to the absolute edge of an orgasm and watch the stars leave your eyes as he pulls out, once he gets a good enough protest and you beg good enough, “Please Rocket…please fuck me, I need it, I need you!” he'll slam right back into you, and make your whole body quiver as you have the Galaxy in your eyes.

V = Volume: Verbal to a degree, gives small whispers of praise or degradants when needed, but mostly just wants to hear you moan for him. Whisper in his ear how bad you want it and he might just let you cum without protest.

W = Wild Card: Jack offs to the idea of you sucking him off in his pilot seat at night when everyone is asleep. Looking at your beautiful eyes as you move up and down his cock, if you actually fulfilled this fantasy he would basically pull out a wedding ring.

Bonus: if you're a top he'd adore you trying to gain power over him, to him it's cute to see you try so hard to be the sole pleasure giver.

X = X-Ray: A good 5-6 inches, the average human size, but for someone like him? That means he's packing big, he also knows how to use it. (I know y’all saw it in that jumpsuit in GOTG 1, if that’s him on soft? Bro’s definitely packing)

Y = Yearning: Every time you have sex he thinks of how next time he will do it better, how he will make you beg or squirm for it more. As I said, will be randomly fixing machines and getting new toy ideas on how to pleasure you and have his name rolling off your tongue.

Z = zzz: A definite cuddler, needs to be a little spoon after (can try being bigger but with the size difference, it's easier if you big spoon) and won't fall asleep until you do.

Bonus points if after you let him just lay on your naked body, flicking your nipples gently as he admits you did a good job taking him.

taglist: @raccoonfallsharder @aliasrocket @alylee-s @oolongteaboba (I can remove y'all if needed I personally love your work and wanted y'alls thoughts)

[ingravinoveritas]

David Tennant stroking another man’s hair, flirting with Alex Brooker, singing about a vibrator, wearing that wig and dancing and swinging his hips like that and finally, MICHAEL SHEEN MENTION. Bragging about being above Michael in the Dilf list like a little brat like WOW he’s about to get his ass spanked tonight

I am honestly so living for David bringing out his bratty bottom side, which I feel like is a side we don't get to see nearly often enough...

(Also, for those who haven't seen the full video of David's appearance on TLL, you can watch it on Youtube here.)

I know the moment in the gif above is supposed to be him as Gwyneth Paltrow, but all I was getting was campy, bisexual British Kurt Cobain, right down to the jumper (which oddly does look like something Kurt would've worn in the grunge era). And we can't remotely overlook the fact that David was wearing rainbow/pride gear from head to toe tonight, from the rainbow buttons on his shirt (you can see them under the jumper) to the Tardis trans pride flag pin all the way down to his rainbow socks...

And then, of course, there was the Michael mention. At this point, it honestly feels like whatever is happening between them is a big open secret (at the very least, I have a strong feeling the host Adam knows, and probably also Josh Widdicome), because it is impossible anymore to have one on as a guest without bringing up the other. In this case, it almost felt like the DILF of the Year competition was another excuse to mention Michael, and then to see David fully preening over outranking him was just...beyond glorious.

As to the aforementioned spanking, I fully concur with you. There's something in particular about this show, knowing that it was filmed live, and it's almost as if David behaved as bratty as he did because he knew a certain Welshman would be watching (giving very similar vibes to when David was on the Late Late Show in 2021). I can already so clearly picture the exchange between them after this (hopefully immediately after, since Michael is still in London and David could readily have gone to see him once the taping ended)...

"I'm more DILFy--DILFy, is that a word? Hmm--than you, Michael. According to the Internet people, that is." "Mmh. Yes, the all-wise, all-knowing Internet people." "You don't agree?" "Brat." "Ah, but you love me." "Don't think I could stop if I wanted to." "So you don't mind that the Internet thinks I'm more of a DILF than you?" "I think I'm the one who gets to fuck you, so the Internet can get bloody stuffed." "Funny, I was rather hoping I'd get stuffed right about now." "Cheeky slag. Turn around and take your trousers off." "You're so easy, Michael." "Shut up, Dai."

So yes, David's appearance on The Last Leg tonight was certainly quite something. I truly love seeing that part of him come alive, the part that he once spoke of in an interview where he talked about being a little boy and putting a towel on his head to entertain his classmates. I think deep inside, David has never stopped being that little boy, and there is something so special about seeing that part of him getting to be free.

Definitely hoping as well that we might get to see/hear Michael's reaction to all of this, but he still seems a bit quiet on Twitter these days (and if he's busy spending long nights with David, one can hardly blame him). I suppose we'll just have to see what happens...

[poisonedspider]

OPEN STARTER: Ozzie's Haunted Bash Day 1: Party Arrival

At first, Angel hadn't been certain if he was wanting to go to the party. He had been doing so well in terms of redemption, and he wanted to continue having Charlie be proud of him. Then he had heard that even Charlie was going, and figured there was nothing wrong with letting loose. Have a few drinks, don't do anything too crazy. Didn't mean he was going to lapse - right?

He had left what felt like the party lifestyle behind for the most part, especially since the party lifestyle reminded him of Valentino. But he would be a fucking liar if he didn't say how Halloween was his favorite holiday. An excuse to dress up like a total slut and not be the only one? Where maybe he wouldn't be harassed by people trying to get in his pants because there were plenty of sexy people around? Fantastic.

He hadn't been too excited to not have a date to the party, when he knew plenty of other couples would be going. But he was fucking Angel Dust. He didn't need no man to have a blast. And he had always wanted to go to Lust. For the obvious reasons. Fizz had brought it up to him before, and he hated the stupid sinners stuck in the Pride Ring rule. Until tonight.

Naturally, he had gone all out with his costume. He knew how to sew his own stuff - a trait Velvette had often admired, whether she'd say that out loud or not - and with a sewing needle, spider silk, and a ream of blue pleather, he had thrown together an almost exact replica of Britney's Spears flight attendant uniform from her Toxic music video (was it also a 'fuck you' to Valentino in secret form? No. Of courseeee not.)

Wearing high heels, fluffed fur atop his head forming slight curls and pulled back into a tiny messy bun. The skirt was absolutely too short, naturally, showing off just the bottom of his butt cheeks with their little pink freckles. Fluff of his chest exposed in the 'boob window', and little hat perched atop his head. Bright pink lipstick, bright blue eyeshadow. Walking into the party and glancing around, seeing who was already there that he knew.

[strawbrygashez]

ALL THE TIMES DUDE HAS BEEN SUGGESTED/ALLUDED TO NOT BE STRAIGHT!!!!!!!! Feel free to add or correct me if I get something wrong!

First I will start off with things RWS has said themselves and the most obvious example of Dude basically being confirmed to be NOT STRAIGHT. This is from the official Running with scissors Twitter!

And here is a post from the RWS tumblr where they reblogged a post and added this comment

Just in general if RWS or Destructive Creations comments under Nottemdude fanart it’s always more than likely them being positive about it. The RWS tumblr hasn’t been active in 7 years so it’s not just a ‘new’ thing also. I would post more pics of these times but there is a image limit to posts so unless someone wants me to show specific examples….😐 But anyways, they have alluded to adding Nottem to Postal under a piece of nottemdude fanart before if I’m remembering correctly. They also support Dude being shipped with Duke Nukem as well, having retweeted ship art of Duke/Nottem/Dude. Also there is fanart of Nottemdude and just other works where he’s seen being 🏳️‍🌈 or just wearing all kinds of different pride flags on their offical website on the fanart page. And if you take all of this as them being cool about it (fanart and ships) and not minding it and being a ‘good sport about it’ then okay. Sure. But to say that RWS doesn’t encourage or support it would be veryyyy odd.

Before I get into my list of a couple moments Dude is alluded to being bi, I wanna add that If you wanna get technical, the Postal Dude according to RWS can be ‘anything you want him to be’ so while he might not have a totally confirmed sexuality yet or hasn’t been seen being with a man, he is more than likely never gonna be confirmed as straight and if you headcanon Dude being anything other than bi then that’s fine but the baseline seems to be that he’s into both men and woman.

Anyways, here is some moments that come to mind for me.

————————————————————————•In postal 2, You are able to let him kiss another man at the kissing booth on Valentine’s Day

•Most of Dudes dialogue to the other Dude in Brain damage has a flirty tone to it. Dearie & handsome are words Dude uses to refer to the other him. (Which sure, you could say he’s just flirting with himself but be fr for a moment. You wouldn’t be like 🤨 if you heard a man irl calling a clone of himself ‘dearie’?? And the tone Dude uses to tell him not to go and to come back???)

•In postal 4, one of the first things you do is write a sign in hopes to find work. No matter what you choose to write Dude adds something along the lines about being willing to ‘do dirty work’ with men. HE SAYS TO MALE NPCS THAT THEY CAN TAKE HIM BACK TO THEIR PLACE!!! How much more obvious-

•His whole thing with the drag outfit in postal 4. He really didn’t have to wear that if he didn’t want to or really felt uncomfortable with it. Wearing drag doesn’t make someone a certain sexuality but I just wanted to add this part because some people still view Dude as this manly man or this guy who sticks to only stereotypically masculine things?? When he wears drag, makeup & high heels.

•In postal brain damaged, there is a place in his mind specially for Doomguy. And not just in a “ohhh hes so cool and manly 🤩” way..there is full on pictures of his bare ass in Dudes brain. Why would a straight man have a secret part in his brain saved for another man’s ass????

•In BD again, there is a scene where in Dudes dream, buff men are standing behind him set up in a meme reference, suggesting that Dude is about to have sex with them all. Here is the pic 🫡

(And would you look at that. He’s smiling!)

•Lots of d*ldo jokes in postal 4 and BD. A used one is seen on his floor in the opening cutscene for BD. (Again you can just say it’s for the laughs besides the used one but why would a straight man own that many?)

•Dude says “it’s like taking it up the bum” in BD…how would u know how that feels like sir? 🤨

•In postal 2, Postal 3 Dude uses a certain kinda…tone and way of taking sometimes with p2. For example the “Short tempered today, are we?” line. Im sorry but that is such a oddly flirty teasing way of talking to another man. Also p3 Dude felt the need to remind p2 that he wore ‘skin tight leather’ and maybe it would rejog his memory wearing it again.

•In postal 4, dude has a line saying something about how no one has it harder than a “white cis man”. What’s interesting to me is that he didn’t throw in that he’s straight too. You’d think he would do to the nature of that sentence.

•Postal 3 dude is oddly insecure about his masculinity and or is not confident in his sexuality. He’s worried about being seen as gay just for riding some kinda scooter and hopes none of his friends sees him like that. I dunno to me I feel like people perceive Dude as a ‘no fucks given’ kinda guy but he’s whining and complaining about riding some scooter.

[berryflyy]

RUKI MUKAMI AESTHETIC IRL

His aesthetic is a mix of Formal Grunge

The colours I'd associate him with are Deep Red,Dark Purple, and Black

Deep Red to show his transformation and history from what he used to be to what he is now

The trauma from the past, the whips are aperfect association of the colour red

Purple, which represents his mystery, and to signify he has the blood of an aristocratic

Black because of his darkness and secrecy of the emotions he surrounds himself with

Mysterious, monochromatic, Dignifed

Books, Polymatic, Authority

Depressed, Rational, Smart

Ruki Mukami is your average smart guy. He's a man of few words. Talks only when and if necessary. He is more on the analyzing side. He is always observing, calculating. He's someone who you'd find reserved, and even when faced with a challenge, he manages to keep his calm. However, there is more to him underneath the reserved demeanour lies a mystery of pain and hidden objectives

Mysterious, Dominating, Reticent

At a glance, you'd see Him with his hair is styled in a short, dishevelled manner, with a black hue at the roots transitioning to white tips. His eyes are a captivating shade of blue-grey, and he has three black piercings in his right ear. He wears a black web choker on his neck.

You'll find Ruki Mukami sitting in the front row of all his classes. Ready to take on any challenge, prepared to contest anyone he strives to be the best. To be the superior, which is why he is always found to be competent towards Reiji Sakamaki. Being the eldest of his household meant nothing less than excellence all to please his saviour, the one he looks up to the most. Karl Heinz

Ruki mostly spends his time with his brothers. Family sticks together. The love and bond he shares with his found family is special. He makes sure everything is in order. All the needs of his family are being met, and he takes on a leadership and fatherly role for the rest of his brothers. This is shown by how his beorhers respect and take up his advuce and orders. He enjoys cooking and has been seen making meals for his family. He strives to make original dishes. Other than that, as he comes from money, he has all the skills that are expected from a young master. From cooking, table manners to horse riding, he has it all. He is often seen carrying a book around. Although the contents of his books remain unknown but it strikes as something important to him. Something that he associates his past life with.

Ruki has a calm personality, but one where he is harsh with his words. Almost as if he belittles all life forms before him. He's not one to form close relationships with others outside of his brothers.

A man who refuses to open himself to others. A man with strong wits. A man with secrets. What secrets does he carry? What pain lies within him? How heavy are his burdens? And most of all, why are you drawn to a man who seems like the sweetest oblivion you can immerse yourself in? Who knows? All you're certain of is that this crafty vampire has ensnared you in his trap.

Ruki Mukami, brother of an idol, a top competitive student. One who's up to date with trends one would say. An explorer, a jack of all trades. One who doesn't shy away from expressing his opinion. This vampire slowly made his way into your heart. It came as a surprise to you but most of all to Ruki. How could he allow this? How could his pride let him fall for a human like you? He thought hard he didn't ask for this, but nevertheless, he craved you more and more. You were drawn into his mystery. The deeper you dwelled , the deeper you get sucked in. Such is love. Ruki was a predator, and you were his prey. He decided that you were his slave from now on. His to punish, his to love. All of you belonged to him. But who are you to be displeased by his overprotective affection. After all, you wanted him. You craved him. All he did was make sure you knew your place. Sure, you could rebel against him. You could say no and go against his wishes, but remember. Ruki claims dominion over you. You are his mere livestock. In the face of disobedience, expect consequences—whether they bring pain or pleasure. Rather than complaining, your role is to sit back and embrace the experience as the vampire teaches you your place

"I WON'T STOP YOU

FROM ESCAPING, BUT

YOU'LL BE PUNISHED IF

YOU'RE CAUGHT.

BE PREPARED."

( I wrote smth after a long time took a lot of strength to do this but finally I got smth done yay. Hope you all enjoy it)

[awordsmith]

Secrets and Liars

Chapter Four

----

There was a time when I didn't know how much words could hurt a person. The tone of a sentence said in a rush–not meant to sound harsh or angry, but intention didn't matter.

Alison always took advantage of how pronunciation could change the meaning of what she said. Her calloused words could sound encouraging or even complimentary when she told them a certain way. She once told me the five of us were her deepest sins. She'd said it'd be obvious if anyone took the time to look.

She never outright told me what sin she thought I was, but it wasn't hard to figure it out. She'd told me Hannah was a sloth, and her diary disclosed everyone else: Spencer was greedy, Aria had to be wrath, Emily was lust, I was envy, and Alison was pride. Funny how that all fits.

I was honestly surprised the first time I'd read it, I'd never thought Alison the type to call her something out like that. Then again, Alison never lied about the bigger secrets she had, only eluded to them, or didn't tell the whole truth. She was good and steering a conversation a certain way whenever she wanted. That was the kind of power she wielded. Or... she had.

--

"Are you ready?" I stare at the church through the window. "Hey Kat, it's gonna be okay," Romeo pats my shoulder from the backseat. I wrap one arm around my shoulder and pull it closer.

"If you want to go home, we can do that too," Elio says calmly, "I can text Mom and Dad right now," he offers.

I just keep staring, there's a reporter in front of the church and another one off to the side. I cringe, breathe in, then out, grabbing at any courage I can find. "Is–" I cut myself off, holding my breath, even though all I want to do is let out a scream. Elio and Romeo stay silent, waiting for me to continue, which I really do appreciate. "Is Jason here?" I whisper, waiting for an answer.

Elio holds the silence for what feels like forever, before whispering back, "I don't know."

I let out a sigh, nodding, trying to hold in the tears that have seemed to want to spill down my face ever since we got back.

I nod, swipe at a tear, "okay." Defiantly, I open the car door and stand. The thin-strap black dress I'm wearing reaches my knees, it was a dress Alison had picked out a few summers ago. It's been three years, but it feels like a lifetime ago. It's a wonder it still fits. The square top is one of my favorite things about it, simple, leaving room for the gold cross necklace I haven't taken off in a year.

Elio and Romeo try blocking most of the reporters from my view, it's a kind gesture, but it doesn't take away from the fact that this moment–one that should be intimate and respectful–is being broadcast to all of Rosewood and the other surrounding towns.

When we get to the front of the church, I spot Hanna and her mom, I hug Mrs. Marin first, "I am so sorry," she rubs my back and I take in her perfume.

I don't know what I'm supposed to respond with, so I smile and settle for, "Thank you." She glances at me, Hannah, then my brothers, and says hello to them before excusing herself.

"Hannah," Elio says, pulling her into a hug, "it's good to see you." she presses her lips together in a tight smile.

"You too."

"Well I'm gonna head inside," he motions to us, "we'll see you two later." I nod, turning to Hannah, but before I say anything, Romeo pats us both on the back, "Good to see you, Hannah."

"You too," she nods. We wait for him to disappear into the church full of people greeting other people, trying to find a seat.

"Isn't it crazy," I kick the air, "I'm pretty sure half these people didn't even know who Ali was?"

"Yeah," she scoffs, "or hated her."

I let out a dry laugh, that turns into a small pout, "is it okay if I hug you?"

"Yeah," she nods, "of course."

"Thank you," I pull away, "I think I just needed to hug someone other than my family today." She nods, "No I totally get that, come on let's head inside."

We walk in, finding Mrs. Dilaurentis ushering people into seats. I spot Elio waving over at us in the front, Hannah's mom sits beside Romeo who's sitting to the left of Elio.

"Hello girls, it's so good to see you." Hannah and I exchange a look. I'm sure neither of us was expecting her to be here–but, if she's here–my heart leaps. Then maybe...

"Would you girls please sit in the front? It's what Alison would have wanted."

We nod and make our way to the first row. My gaze snags on the coffin, it feels all too real now. My frown lessens when I see the photo they chose to display of her, she would have loved this. I don't notice that I keep walking forward until a hand tugs on mine.

"This way," Hannah smiles sadly.

"Right," I shake my head, "I was–"

"–mesmerized?" she asks, turning to face the photo herself, "Alison always did feel like an illusion... sort of."

"Wow," I grin, "that was almost poetic."

Hannah scoffs and rolls her eyes, "you know what I mean."

"Yeah," I sigh, focussing on the picture again, "yeah, I do."

--

A few minutes later Emily and Spencer make their way into the row on the other side as the church begins to quiet down.

Aria still hasn't shown up, I don't think any of us know if she's even coming or not. I sigh, resting my arm on the side of the row, leaving my head down. It's almost 8:00 in the morning, I woke up extra early again to have some alone time, though I don't know if I'm going to make it through the week–not like this.

Aria walks down the aisle, her eyes captivated by the coffin as I had once been. She looks like she's about to cry, and without thinking, I reach out and grab her hand.

We share grim smiles. I scoot over for her and she sits down. "Poor Ali," Emily frowns, her voice wobbly.

"Can you believe what a scene this is?" Hannah scoffs as if she's trying to laugh off the pain.

"Alison would have loved it," Aria sighs, watching Ali's picture.

"Popular in life, and death," Spencer gulps, another grim smile to be shared.

Silence overcomes us, I fist both my hands, taking calming breaths every few seconds. "No–I don't-"

"Today, I think you do." I turn my head at the commotion, watching Hannah subtly hand Emily a flask.

"Is that whiskey?" I ask incredulously.

"It's tequila." Hannah scrunches up her nose, "whiskey? Is that what you drink now?"

I roll my eyes, evading her question. Thankfully Aria's phone goes off, taking away the could-have-been awkward silence.

Spencer tenses up, oh–does she think–? I eye Aria, glancing at her phone over her shoulder.

"Anyone we know?" Hannah asks with a tight-lipped smile.

Aria's widened eyes slowly relax, she shakes her head and smiles, "No, it's just my mom sending me a text."

I press my lips together, nodding, she looks back down, but only for a split-second, and then her head shoots back up again, throwing glances between the four of us, "Emily and I aren't the only ones who got messages from A, are we?"

Spencer's eyes dart to mine, and then something behind me catches her attention, and I follow her line of sight, "oh my god."

"It's Jenna," the others turn their heads as soon as the words leave my mouth.

We watch her brother help her step into a row. Mrs. Dilaurentis appears beside Aria and takes a seat, "Did you see that Jenna Marshall is here, I didn't know she and Ali were friends."

They weren't, the words were on the tip of my tongue, but Spencer said them before I could.

--

Jason didn't show up, I didn't know how I'd react if he had. We all agreed to head to Spencer's house to talk, about A, Alison? I don't really know. I texted Elio that I'd be going home early, well, I'd be at Spencer's but he knew what that meant.

I didn't catch Mom and Dad inside, but after their secret conversation yesterday, I haven't felt like talking to them.

"Emily, Katherine, Spencer, Aria, and Hannah..."

"Do we know you?" Spencer glances at me, but I don't know who he is, so I shrug.

"I'm Detective Wilden... I understand you were all good friends with the victim?"

"Yeah, we were," Aria nods.

"I'm gonna need to talk to each one of you."

I shake my head, "we talked to the police when Alison went missing."

"And I intend to go over every one of your statements–as this is no longer a missing person's investigation." He eyes me for a while, it makes me uncomfortable so I glance away, "It's murder."

I look to the girls, who look at me and each other. Murder? A lot of people may have disliked Alison–but murder?

"And rest assured, I will find out what happened that summer."

He walks away but stands by a tree and watches us like a creep. "Dude went all Batman on us," I scoff.

Aria's seems more frightened, "...Do you think he knows about–"

"No," Hannah says, followed by Emily and Spencer.

"How could he?" I reassure.

That seems to calm her down a bit, but then her phone goes off, and Emily's, Hanna's, Spencers's, and then my dreaded phone pings.

I pull it from my purse, clicking the side button and–oh my–

"It's from–"

"I got one too."

Blocked ID

I'm still here bitches. Aug/08/2010 And I know everything. 10:02 am - A

"I'm still here bitches," Spencer forces out the first line.

"And I know everything–A." Saying it in unison like that sends a shiver down my spine.

This can't be a coincidence. Ali wouldn't have thought so–and Officer whatever his name was, can go to hell, along with the rest of the demons in Rosewood.

I had nothing to do with my best friend's murder.

----

Chapter Six

Hello everyone! Again, thank you for reading, sharing, and liking! I may post another chapter today, but I'm not sure. I might also draft it if I start but don't finish.

[clonerightsagenda]

Sick

We're most of the way through disability pride month and I'm not sure if I'll ever finish this WIP because I'm stuck over how literal to make some of the elements. So, I am posting it because I am curious if any of the weirdness resonates with other people. Enjoy my magical disability cure codependent haunting thing, and also I am going to post a rambling author's note about it.

The morning after the surgery, your Sick is sitting at the kitchen table. It looks good, for a corpse. It’s wearing the ‘I love dying and being dead’ t-shirt you joked about buying two diagnoses ago, pulled over a laced-shut hospital gown.

“What?” it asks. “You had more of a sense of humor when you were sick.”

The doctors warned you that your neurochemistry might be out of balance. You’re adjusting to the sudden lifting of brain fog after moving through the world in a protective cocoon of pharmaceuticals. They didn’t mention hallucinations.

“Think of me like a phantom limb.” Your Sick sips one of those awful plant-based protein drinks that still lurk in the back of your pantry. “Why did you do it?”

Talking to hallucinations probably makes them worse. You do it anyway. “You were killing me.”

“This world is killing you. But you finished yourself off first.”

You sit down across from it in one effortless motion. “That’s not what happened.”

“Right. I’m the enemy. So it doesn’t matter if I’m rotting at the bottom of a biohazard bin.” It considers you. “What’s it like not to hurt?”

What is it like? You’d woken up and lain there for a while, waiting. “Like holding my breath.”

“You’re in charge of all that now.” It nods, the motion referencing the length of your body. “Need to stay on top of it.”

“Like I need advice from you,” you say, but you blink, and the phantom’s gone.

60,000 pieces of microplastic. 7.2 micrograms per liter of per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances. 1:640 antinuclear antibody titer.

That's what they peel you out of. A second nervous system of petroleum products and misfiring T cells, the stuff that's been running your life via mob rule for a decade. They tell you that you weigh five grams less now.

They tell you, don't be surprised if at first it feels like something is missing.

I thought that was just for rich people, your friend says. She messaged you to remind you to take your meds, and you told her that you would never have to take your meds again. Celebrities and politicians.

Work decided it was cheaper to fix me than replace me, you message back. Score one for being essential.

Perks of your top-secret job.

I promise it's boring. Critical infrastructure usually is.

Did you look?

Some people share post-op pictures. They’re usually underwhelming if you don’t know what to look for - the subtle swelling over an aggravated nerve, hints of boniness in the knuckles. Shadows of bruises that never go away. No. I should’ve, though. I asked for hospital socks when they were prepping me but then obviously after I didn’t have them anymore. Who knows if I’ll get another chance.

You might be finished with surgeries forever and you’re disappointed because you can’t get any more grippy socks.

I'll miss the warm blankets too.

Your Sick crawled inside you when you were nineteen years old. It wouldn’t let you get out of bed.

“Help,” it croaked.

Your roommate (only your roommate then) came the second time it called. She was in her pajamas, her hair a dark tangle. You never asked for her help, even when your hands got so sore you couldn’t open jars without five minutes of struggle. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel right,” it said.

Her face softened. “I thought you looked rough yesterday. I don’t have class this morning; do you want me to make something? Call anybody?”

No, you tried to say. I can handle it.

“I think I need to go to the doctor,” your Sick said instead.

You had been putting it off. The doctor meant admitting something was wrong, meant – most importantly – a $30 copay. But healthy people never understand when you try to tell them. At a certain point, your body stops being yours.

Your Sick turned up its nose at greasy slices of campus pizza. It politely but firmly refused invitations for a night out. It sanded the branching tree of your life into a wooden sphere it could cup in the palm of its hand.

“You’re ruining my life,” you told the mirror.

It tilted your head. You read your own confusion. “I’m protecting you.”

“Mask,” your Sick says from behind you. It looks worse today – skin gone gray and patchy, with a shimmer of microplastic shards risen to the surface like body glitter. The shine complements the sequined mask secured over its own face.

You scowl, bag swung over one shoulder. You haven’t gone out since the surgery – you can work from home, you haven’t canceled grocery delivery yet – and now that you’re venturing through your front door, the phantom is back. You had reached for one of the masks on the table by the door before dropping it back into the bowl. “I don’t need it now.”

“So respiratory diseases don’t exist anymore? Dumbass.”

The objection reminds you of your own aggrieved complaints: why don’t people plan events with us in mind, don’t they know how many people there are with immune systems one shove away from collapsing, the world’s not getting any safer.

That was your Sick talking. You don’t have to worry anymore.

“You weren’t doing a good job taking care of me before, and you’re not doing a good job of it now.”

Its eyebrows rise. Black liquid has seeped through the cloth of its mask. “And fuck everyone else like you?”

“Like you,” you say, and slam the door in its face.

Outside, the breeze brushes your cheeks. You don’t have to sit down because you miscalculated the balance of meds and breakfast. You start to scan your surroundings for bathrooms, just in case, and then dismiss the impulse because you’re fine.

You’re better than that.

Three hours in, you realize you’ve been curling your fingers into a fist and then opening them again. You only notice because the joints start to ache. It feels familiar.

Nothing else does.

A notification flashes in the corner of your screen. There’s new activity in one of the forum conversations you’ve been following.

It’s rich people doing what they always do. Wreck the planet? It’s fine, we can get a new one! Wreck your body? It’s fine, we can get a new one of that too. There’s no incentive to improve the situation if you can buy your way out of the problem.

I’d buy my way out too, but there’s no way I could afford it

Then you’d eat your first plastic salad and get sick again. See what I mean?

The new ones are supposed to be more resilient

But it’s not yours

Remember any theological debates go in the quarantine thread

I don’t mean it like that. I just think you’re interfering with your relationship with your body, and that’s a fundamental part of who you are, right? Whether or not a s*ul exists

There’s not a bot monitoring this thread. You don’t have to censor it.

Sorry, habit

Mod is human, asterisks don’t stop me. But they are a screenreader issue, so please edit your post.

You used to frequent disability forums. They had useful resources. Jokes, too, like the t-shirt your Sick wears over its hospital gown. But you can’t understand the people who embrace their disfunction. You took a time-honored approach to your medical misfortune. Cancer. Pregnancy. Demonic possession. Petrochemicals. There is something inside me, and I want it out.

These people helped you, but you don’t need them anymore. So instead of saying anything, you log off the forum for the last time.

You do tell your coworkers, who are excited for you. They pester you with questions over Slack: How long did it take? Did you look? Does it hurt?

Your boss messages you, When can you come back to the office?

You frown at the screen. The work you’ve been doing from home is good – better than what you’ve produced for years now that your head is clear. But your boss has always been old fashioned. Remote work was a concession that there’s no justification for now.

Monday, if you want, you type back.

That gets you an immediate thumbs up reaction, followed by, We’re all so glad you’re ok.

That chafes you in a spot rubbed raw. Everyone assumes once the problem they know about has been addressed, everything else must be resolved too. You must be ok.

Which you are, this time.

Your best friend comes to visit. She brings beers you couldn’t drink with your meds and a greasy pizza that settles in your stomach like a snake planning to strike later. It tastes amazing – you run your tongue over your teeth to capture the last traces of salty richness and tell yourself next time your body will recognize good food.

She’s spent the whole visit on your sofa. You have an air mattress from when she used to sleep on your floor while you were recovering from surgeries. She hasn’t asked you to bring it out, and you’re not sure how to ask if she’s staying. Instead you keep stealing glances at her, the curve of her cheek that’s the first thing you’d see when you looked over the side of your bed in the middle of the night, the hands that have held your hair back from the toilet bowl and now rest on her lap.

She keeps looking at you too. You wonder if she sees a difference.

After the silence and sidelong glances build into an itchy layer on your skin, you lean over, clutch the front of her shirt, and kiss her. She freezes and then kisses you back, gingerly, the way you'd investigate an unexpected bruise. There’s pizza grease on both your lips. Rich and unfamiliar.

You’re the one who pulls away. "I'm sorry," you say. "That's not what I want."

She’s stiff under her softness, like an examination table. "I didn’t think so. I didn't think you did that kind of thing."

You don’t. It’s the silence. Your empty floor. Her hands, resting on her lap. "I just thought…” you try. “That kind of closeness is enough for everyone else."

Your fingers are still clenched in her shirt. She looks at them until you untangle them, one by one. The knuckles don’t ache.

She shakes her head. "It's like you don't want to be better."

“That went well,” your Sick says after the door swings shut.

“It’s your fault.”

It tilts its head on a neck that’s looser than it should be. “I didn’t do anything.”

It’s right. When you were sick you could request a shoulder rub to loosen tight muscles or hike up your shirt, no seduction, no bullshit, to ask if that rash looked bad. You could open your mouth and let the truth of your predicament outweigh prudishness or shame.

You don’t know how to ask people to touch you anymore.

It leans in close. “You need me,” it says. Oil bubbles over its lips and slicks its chin. “I was always your excuse.”

That weekend you watch your phone sit silent on the table, no pings from forum posts or medication reminders. Your Sick drifts over. It’s no longer a rotting corpse leaking garbage. It looks dead in the way you used to whenever you looked in the mirror.

Wherever it is in the real world, it doesn’t look like that anymore. From what you remember from the booklets they gave you, it’s already gone.

“Not going to explain yourself, huh?” asks your hallucination. Your haunting.

You shrug. What would you say to her? I took away the foundation of my life and don’t know what’s underneath. You only started being my friend when I needed help, so what’s left for us? There was always another medication or appointment or symptom but now everything’s fine and I’m still holding my breath.

You’ve gotten used to letting someone else talk for you.

“I was killing you,” it says.

That’s what you said. You look at the lines around its eyes and imagine a billion tiny swords raised against invaders that poured in every time you took a breath to light your joints up with friendly fire. “You were protecting me.”

“I was the worst part of you.”

“You were.” You flex your perfect, painless fingers. “Do I miss it?”

It grins and leans against the back of your chair, wrapping chilly arms around your waist. “I just wanted to make you say it.”

The grip around your belly aches in a way you recognize. Dull pain that makes its home in you. Cozy as curling up in bed with a headache. You look back at your silent phone. “Which one of us did she come here for?”

“Only one way to find out.”

You could reach out, but you don’t move. You have never known how to ask for help.

Your Sick sighs. It loosens its grip and reaches over your shoulder to lace corpse-cool fingers between yours. Then it lifts your combined hands in a swoop like the first dose of anesthesia, when the orderlies wheel you away and everything is out of your control. “Come on,” she says. Her breath is a puff of disinfectant on your cheek. “Let’s do it like we used to.”

After you came out of the anesthesia, the surgeons asked if you wanted to see your old body. You said no. You’d spent long enough inside it – it was something you wanted to leave behind. Besides, even after all the pamphlets and counseling sessions, you worried seeing your vacant face would jar something loose. Convince you like those cranks on the disability forums that you’d severed a connection that was irrevocable.  

If you could do it again, you’d say yes. Step inside the morgue – no, they wouldn’t have moved it to the morgue yet, they’d want you to have a better venue to say goodbye – and catalogue the subtle changes only you could see. The swollen knuckles, flushed cheeks. All the other differences locked inside.

You imagine bending down and lifting the body the way it lifted you once, cradling its head in the crook of your arm. Imagine kissing your Sick and feeling poisonous tendrils creep down your throat to coat your insides with grime.

You imagine saying, welcome home.

(Author's note)

[candied-cae]

S2E2 Ed's plot my beloved-

I ADORE THIS EPISODE IN HOW IT PORTRAYS ED'S MENTAL HEALTH!!!

TW, this post is going to discuss Ed's suicidal behavior and attempt in depth. It will not be heartwarming, I am agonizing over the details. Please don't open if that reading is going to be damaging at all to you. Protect yourself first, y'all! Anyway...

Every little detail from his time on screen is spent sending hints to the viewer that it's Ed's last day alive.

The first time we see him that morning, he looks refreshed. He's decidedly sober and cleaning up his cabin and he's joking and almost... bright again. He's talkative and seems so calm. And it's because he's finally decided to kill himself.

It's been a long observed point for folks with suicidal thoughts/actions that once they've decided on doing it, there's a certain kind of peace that comes with that. Because it's going to be over soon, you know you'll be able to rest. There's an expiry approaching, and there's a comfort in knowing you've almost reached the end, like getting close to the end of a long work shift.

And so he's cleaning up, so he'd doesn't leave as much of a mess behind (Also something that is well documented from people who attempt). At least, assumably that was the idea, like he hadn't originally planned to take the whole ship down with him, it seems like he was planning to do something smaller for just him as of that morning. So he’s tidying up for the rest of them.

It's both a gesture of kindness to make sure they aren't left with as much of a "hassle" once they find him dead, but it's also a point of "pride" in a way. So when it's all over, they will sweep through a cleaner room and remember him better in that last day, than so much of the mess and stress of the earlier ones.

The second time we see him is when he's figured out Frenchie didn't finish off Izzy. And not only does he offer for Izzy to do it, he tells him that it'd be a good thing for him to do. Like it was a favor, killing him would've been "just what the doctor ordered" to make him feel better.

But Izzy doesn't do it, and he assumes Izzy ends himself after he's left the room.

The third hint is that he's so forgiving with everyone. He doesn't hold a grudge against Frenchie for lying to him and hiding Izzy in the secret room, he doesn't yell at anyone (like Jim or Archie) for conspiring with him, he even tells Frenchie to take the day off and thanks him for the closure.

Again, it's following that motion of peace and contentment, he doesn't have to go into death mad, he can do it calmly. He can let it all go, because soon enough it won't be a problem and he knows he's now decided to take them all down with him. So he might as well let them enjoy their last few hours as much as they can.

And he instead resides to sit at the wheel, turning them sharply right into a dark storm, all the while he wears the softest smile. Because he is calm, he is clear headed, and he is done waiting for something else to kill him. And that's a very common thing for people to want in those last moments. To go clean and sober and content and in peace.

They hit a lot of the MAJOR signs they teach you that someone is about to take their live, the only one I can think of off the top of my head that wasn't explicitly included would've been the giving away of personal possessions.

(But, perhaps even following the idea that originally he was going to go alone, he was going to be leaving everything including the boat to his crew, so maybe that idea was kind of hidden in there. It's just not as direct as personally going to people and handing over things.)

Anyway, I'm sure a lot of these clues were well picked up by the fandom, I'm sure a lot of us have learned about these stages of suicidal action for various reasons ourselves. I just wanted to point out that timeline and how perfectly it seems to fit across the whole episode as this singular, unspoken intent behind every single one of Ed's actions until it comes to a head and the crew on deck can't ignore how drastic everything had turned.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Domestic Battles

Chapter 4: What the Future Looked Like

Once upon a time, what felt like a lifetime ago, he’d promised her that one day they’d experience the joy that came from having nowhere to go and nothing to do. He was proud to say he’d finally fulfilled that promise to her. Albeit on the first day of their married life, but it was a promise that he’d finally managed to keep, and he considered that a small victory.

With their phones off, no one had called them. He hadn’t a clue what was going on in town, and he didn’t care. No one knocked on the door. Time wasn’t threatened. There was merely the pair of them in their bed, saying beautiful things to each other that he’d never imagined he might say in a hundred years, let alone someone might say to him in a thousand. In fact, they hardly stirred beyond the threshold of the bedroom, only leaving once for food and returning quickly within the hour.

It was nice. It was a fantasy. Looking back on his life, he didn’t think he’d ever had hours that he spent this way, much less a day.

“People will notice, you know,” she commented lazily, her head reclining on his shoulder.

His hands held her hand in his own and he was quietly looking it over, fascinated and entertained by every facet of it, but especially by the finger where his ring now took up residence. With a stone like that…he hoped people would notice.

“News of our engagement will only be making its way around this morning, but they’ll notice that we’re wearing rings already. Do we make another announcement of marriage? Publicly?”

He felt the corner of his mouth lift in amusement. “I’ve no doubt the cricket will take care of announcements for us, Sweetheart.”

“You really believe Archie is the type of person to run off and gossip like that?”

He opened his mouth to argue…but closed it again quickly. She had a point. The cricket wasn’t perfect; he was hardly a steel safe regarding secrets, but he wasn’t exactly a sieve either. While a few secrets had made themselves public over the centuries, for the most part, he knew that he did tend to keep things to himself. Knowing Archie, he likely would want to keep the news to himself so that they could tell everyone as they saw fit. Belle’s father...he was less certain would give away the news, but he was also less than certain he’d be eager to claim the notorious Dark One as his son-in-law. Perhaps an announcement when they returned wasn’t a terrible idea.

“Can I call you my husband?” Belle asked beside him, already moving on to the next question. “Can I start using your last name?”

Belle Gold…he’d forgotten just how much he’d liked the sound of that the first time she’d brought it up. Still, he tried to swallow down some of that pride and eagerness. It had been a year since they last discussed her last name, he didn’t know if she still felt the way she had a year ago and didn’t want her to feel pressured to do anything too quickly.

“There is paperwork that goes with that, you know,” he responded, choosing the legal answer as his strategy. Now that he thought about it, they’d need to get a marriage certificate signed. And he’d need to reset some of his affairs to formally mention her. The deed to the property, the title to the car, the bank statements…

Fuck…for having nowhere to go and nothing to do, he was beginning to think there were a lot of places they needed to go and an endless list of things to do.

“I know,” she insisted, cutting through the clutter of it all. “But there’s no reason I can’t use it until we figure all that out. Right?”

“Do you want to use my name?” he inquired. He’d never forgive himself if she felt as though it was something she had to do to conform. “Really want to use my name? Not something out of convention or tradition-”

“You already know I do. I want to be your wife in every way imaginable in this world and ours. But I don’t want to expose you to anyone or make you feel uncomfortable. If you don’t want me to use it or tell everyone so fast-”

“We already made an announcement in the paper,” he interrupted before she could talk herself out of it, or worse, not understand the reason he’d gone to such lengths to get The Mirror to publish the announcement as he had. “Even if Dr. Hopper isn’t the type to gossip, the people of Storybrooke aren’t so dim they won’t put two and two together when they see our rings, and I’m not going to let us simply remove them day in and day out, hiding like we’re ashamed or afraid. I don’t want to keep it secret; in fact, I’d like for anyone who doesn’t like it to come see me personally-”

“Rumple…” she warned before he could say something she’d hate. Not that it was untrue. Of course, there were going to be risks associated with being the Dark One’s wife, but he hoped that the benefits of being the Dark One would outweigh them.

“The point is…that while the world makes me uncomfortable and frightened…you make me feel peace. And I’d be honored if you used my name as your own and to have the whole world know we’re married. Whatever comes because of that knowledge…I’ll keep you safe. We’ll be careful, but we’ll face what comes together.”

“Good. I want the world to know, too.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head before the silence returned, and he went back to examining their hands, back to looking over the rings they now wore, the ring he’d worn as long as he had been in Storybrooke but now had new meaning. If only he’d known that she’d give it this particular meaning, he might have chosen something different for her own.

“I’m sorry they don’t match…” he commented, realizing that wedding rings were supposed to match in this world.

“I’m not…I think they’re perfect.”

And while he was at it for apologies…

“And I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with a better place than the cabin to take you-”

“We don’t need the world, Rumple, we just need each other-”

But for a woman who wanted to see the world…

“But-”

“Rumple!” She sat up suddenly, leaning on her elbow as she tore her hand from him and ran her fingers through his hair. “Are you happy here? With me? Right now?”

He supposed there was that. So, he nodded and turned to kiss her palm as he reached up to thread his own fingers through her hair in return. “I am. Always.”

“Then we don’t need anything more than you and me. We’re fine right here, just as we are.”

It was true. Everything she was saying was true. He didn’t regret anything last night, down to the marrow of his bones he knew there had been a pressing need, a desire to tie himself to her as quickly as possible. But he was sad she’d missed out on the experience of planning or dreaming about what she wanted. He was sad that he hadn’t allowed time to prepare a true honeymoon and take her away, out into the world she wanted so badly to see. He just wanted-

“What if I took you somewhere?”

He glanced over at her, initially unsure if he’d heard the words or just invented them himself. But the way she looked him over expectantly as if waiting for an answer…

She wanted to take him somewhere?

“I know somewhere we could go,” she responded as if reading his thoughts. “Somewhere new, here in Storybrooke. We’ll have privacy, no one would come looking for us, or find us…we could just be alone for a couple of days to do whatever we want. It’s beautiful, big…and the view is spectacular!”

“Where?” For the life of him, he hadn’t a clue what she was thinking…and the look on her face when he asked made him believe that she was more than happy about that.

“After everything you’ve given me over the last few days, why don’t you let me surprise you! We could go home, pack a couple of bags, like real newlyweds, and be there before the sun begins to go down! We could stay for as long as we like! Just you and me!”

He was confused, entirely clueless about what she was talking about, where she was talking about.

But she was suddenly excited and energized. And given the fact that he’d been languishing in denying her the ability to plan, it seemed a shame not to allow her to take the wheel just this once.

“Then let’s go on an adventure.”

[tenderlyrenjun]

little details i love about jisung: his awkward hand scrunches, his pout, when his hair gets long and wraps around his ears, his tall nose, the hair on his hands (ITS WEIRD I KNOW), when his eyes are puffy and tired, when he has his hair down naturally, his calves (WE SO RARELY GET TO SEE HIS LEGS), when his shirt can’t contain his boobs, when he covers his mouth like he’s insecure but he has the cutest lips, his broad neck, when he wears a zip up hoodie with nothing underneath, when he shamelessly touches jaemins biceps???, the rare times he shows physical affection, the fact he passed his driving test 1st try and can DRIVE 😨, his clean tidy nails, when he sucks in breath awkwardly, when he wears turtle necks, when he manspreads lol, when he does the cheek thing, that time he kissed jeno on the head, his cute nervousness when trying not to get in trouble or maintain the idol image, … , the way he prides himself on being a good listener and conversationalist 🥹 (i would pay a lot of money to listen to his deep conversations with chenle & mark, not because i’m a nosy obsessed fan but because i need to hear jisungs wise words and how his brain works)

it’s crazy how i’ve liked this guy since 2021 yet i still sometimes can’t figure out how he would react in certain situations.. and your work has seriously been the closest representation to jisung i’ve ever read!!!! he’s so shy but confident.. inexperienced but mature.. boyishly awkward but so charming.. 😭😭 luv him

oh this is so real actually. I love love love and adore Jisung’s personality. I will keep saying it: he is such a sweet boy, like, literally everyone who works with him or is just around him praises him for being so sweet, kind, thoughtful, etc. They always mention that despite his shyness, he has a high attention to detail - which is probably in part due to his perfectionism and his desire to just, like, return the love he has received in all the small (or big) ways he can :( he’s the sweetest. He doesn’t have to, like, verbally talk with everyone in the world, but he always tries to do small things - like holding doors open (this is not a common gesture, esp in seoul), giving lunches to people, nagging people to be healthy, giving really thoughtful advice, etc.

And on top of being really sweet, he is so so smart!! Yeah!! He passed his driver’s test first try (I did it in three LMAO), and he passed his GED test first try, nearly half a year before his cohort!! He is really good at absorbing information, and he is so good at his job and field of work, like he is so, so smart. And when he’s smart, he’s confident! He was the one to initiate control during the Macau concert when fans were pushing. Like, he has so many admirable qualities :( I like him a lot! And I don’t think that a lot of people keep these in mind and still kinda just see him as, like, a 14 year old child who debuted and hadn’t travelled yet or learned anything; or, they think he’s, like, some sort of secret, like, confidence god (if that makes sense lol). Like, both can coexist!! He is extremely confident in the areas he knows; it’s why his stage presence is insane, and even Jisung himself said that something fans might not know is that he is more confident than people think! I just think he’s really shy and reserved from people he doesn’t know, so it comes off as a little bit naïve.

this image has nothing to do with anything except you can see his boobs, sorry fnjddjd (I don’t think I need to say that I agree he’s good looking lol)

also!! one of my personal favorite things about him (that also makes me slightly insane) is his princely bow. He’s been doing it so so much more throughout the TDS2 tour (and he did it today at the day 2 KMS fansign!), and hes just … wow … like, he is a Prince !! Insane.

also!! he doesn’t hate affection or skinship 😭 I know that I’ve written him as a skinship hater (kind of; he is a pda hater to me), but he is really affectionate with the dreamies. He literally caresses them each like glass; it makes me want to eat glass. He’s so …….. yeah; he’s literally ginormous and so strong but he treats all of them like they’re fragile. I need to eat him. Kissing Jeno’s forehead, more drunk Jisung kissing Jeno stories, fixing Jaemin’s bangs, doing the thumb thing to the back of Jaemin’s hand, holding Chenle’s hands, back hugs to Chenle, carrying Haechan, saying “nom nom nom” to Haechan (2021 season’s greetings behind), etc. etc.

He has just so many multitudes to himself, and I feel like people forget that humans are complicated ^^

also, I have a degree in neuropsych and I spend 8-12 hours a day analyzing human behavior as part of my job 😭 so, like, yeah

but also, thank you!! I’m currently obsessed with Jisung; I go through different rounds of being obsessed with 6dream (I’m always obsessed with Renjun btw). It was Jeno a few months ago, and now it’s Jisung lol, so I’m just … paying more attention to him (Jisung) than usual, and really, he feeds into the parasocial relationship with the combined energies of present day Mark, 230820 Chenle, and 2018 Jaemin, so anything Jisung says can be the basis for delusion 🥴😵‍💫 like, he said that he would enjoy holding hands with his significant other and that back hugs are heart fluttering to him and that he wants head pats when he’s having a rough time and he says “baby” a little too often and he messages “I like (y/n)” on bubble a little too frequently (🤨🤨). Yeah … yeah

sorry, I could talk about him for days 😭