#this is probably gonna be used against me twelve years from now

[lipgloss3ater]

we only draw peak here on the lipgloss3ater blog

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Roadkill | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of smut

Word Count: 4772

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“Alright,” Dean began, cruising down a darkened road. “Tell me about Highway 41.”

You leaned your head on your arms between the shoulders of the two boys on the back of the front seat as Sam began to talk.

“Twelve accidents over fifteen years,” the brunet explained. “Five of them fatal; all of them happening on the same night.”

“So, what are we looking at— Interstate dead zone? Phantom hitchhiker? What?” Dean questioned.

Sam shook his head, continuing to flip through his notes. “Not quite. Year after year, witnesses said the same thing made them crash. A woman appearing in the middle of the road, being chased by a man covered in blood.”

“Two spooks?” you asked.

“Sounds like it,” Sam responded.

“Any idea who this chick is?” 

“I think I might,” the brunet said, handing you a clipping from an old newspaper he’d printed off online. “Molly McNamara. Killed in a car crash fifteen years ago tomorrow night. She took another guy out with her; Jonah Greely. Farmer who was out in the road, and Molly couldn’t slow down in enough time to stop.”

“So, what? She haunts the road now with Greely chasin’ after her?” you questioned.

Sam shrugged. “I guess.”

“I say we go talk to the husband. Only survivor of the crash.”

And that was just where you went. You discovered she hadn’t been buried; she’d been cremated.

“So, what’s keeping her here?” Sam wondered aloud as you left the survivor’s house.

“I don’t know,” you replied. 

*** The next night, you, Dean, and Sam headed down Highway 41.

“Please don’t run into the bitch and kill us all with your stupid driving,” you implored Dean, who shot you a look in the rearview mirror.

“I’m a great driver, what are you—” He cut himself off as something in the road caught his attention. “Holy—!”

You braced yourself on the back of the front seat as Dean slammed to a stop in front of a young blonde woman with scrapes and bruises littering her body. “You have to help me!” she yelled, crying.

“Dean, I don't think she knows she's dead,” Sam realized.

Molly started banging on the window of Sam’s door. “Open up! Please!”

Sam obliged, holding his hand up to try and create some distance between the two of them as he opened the car. “Okay, okay! All right, all right. Just calm down. Tell us what happened.”

You hung back with Dean while he parked the car as Sam walked ahead with Molly. 

“What is he gonna tell her?” Dean asked quietly.

“Knowing Sam? Probably the truth,” you replied.

“She's gonna take off running in the other direction,” Dean sighed.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I— I swerved,” Molly was telling Sam, sitting against a tree stump, “ A-And we crashed. And when I came to, the car was wrecked and my husband was missing. I went looking for him, but that's when the man from the road, he- he started chasing me.”

“Did he look like he lost a fight with a lawn mower?” Dean questioned.

Molly looked up at Dean, shocked. “How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” he shrugged.

You played dumb, keeping what Dean had said earlier in mind. “Hey, what's your name?”

“Molly. Molly Mcnamara,” she said.

Sam looked over at you knowingly. “I think maybe you should come with us. We'll take you back into town.”

“I can't.” The blonde suddenly panicked. “I have to find David. He might have gone back to the car.”

“We should get you somewhere safe first. Then the three of us will come back. We'll look for your husband,” Sam tried.

“No. I'm not leaving here without him. Would you just take me back to my car, please?” she begged.

Sam hesitated a moment. “Of course,” he said finally. “Come on.”

The four of you clambered into the Impala, and Molly directed Dean toward the crash site. You were incredibly uneasy with a spirit just casually sitting next to you in the backseat, and every instinct was screaming at you to pump her full of rocksalt. However, you knew better and fought your gut feeling.

“Stop,” Molly told Dean. She was jumping out of the car before he’d fully come to a stop. “It’s right over there.”

She led you to where she thought the car would be, but there was nothing there. 

“I don't understand. I'm sure this is where it was. W-We hit that tree right there. This— This doesn't make any sense,” she rushed out, running a hand through her hair. She started to head further into the woods.

Not willing to let her out of your sight, you followed. “Molly, wait!”

She turned around. “I know it sounds crazy, but I crashed into that tree. I don't know who could've taken it. It was totaled. Please. You have to believe me.”

“I do believe you,” you said. “But that’s why you gotta get outta here.”

“What about David?” she protested. “Something must have happened. I have to get to the cops.”

Dean came up behind you. “Cops! That's a great idea. We'll take you down to the station ourselves. So just come with us. It's the best way we can help you and your husband.”

“Okay,” she replied.

You shot Dean a look and headed back to the car.

As the four of you drove, Molly spoke up. “We're supposed to be in Lake Tahoe.”

“You and David?” Sam asked.

“It's our five-year anniversary,” she nodded.

“A hell of an anniversary,” Dean muttered, almost making you laugh. However, you were too focused on keeping a hand on your gun in case she made one wrong move.

“Right before, we were having the dumbest fight,” she sighed. “It was the only time we ever really argued; when we were stuck in the car.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah. I know how that goes.”

Dean scowled at him, making you smile.

“You know the last thing I said to him? I called him a jerk. Oh, god. What if that's the last thing I said to him?” she cried.

The younger Winchester turned to face her. “Molly, we're gonna figure out what happened to your husband. I promise.”

Suddenly, the radio started flickering. Its whirring and crackling soon turned to the opening notes of “House of the Rising Sun” by the Animals.

“Sam, you didn’t—?” you started.

He shook his head.

Dean sighed. “I was afraid you'd say that.”

“This song…” Molly trailed off.

“What?” you questioned.

“It was playing when we crashed,” she breathed out.

The radio crackled again, and settled on another disturbing station. A voice began to fill the car coming over the radio. “She's mine,” the voice taunted. “She's mine. She's mine.”

“What is that?” Molly asked.

Jonah Greeley suddenly appeared in the middle of the road.

Dean began flooring it straight at him. “Hold on.”

“What are you doing?” she shrieked as Dean drove into Greeley, who disappeared in a puff of smoke.

“What the... What the hell just happened?” Molly breathed.

“Don't worry, Molly. Everything's gonna be alright,” Sam coaxed.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” you quipped as the Impala began to shudder. It coasted to a stop on the side of the road.

Dean tried to start it again, but the ignition sputtered. “I don't think he's gonna let her leave.”

You got out of the car, hand still on your gun. 

Dean put a hand on the small of your back, cooly saying, “Relax” into your ear. A shudder went through your spine at the contact, but you did your best to release the tension you were holding in your body.

“That’s my girl,” he said, more to himself than you. 

Your heart swelled with pride just as Molly started to panic on the other side of the car. “This can't be happening.”

“Well, trust me. It's happening,” Dean remarked. He moved to the back of the car and started pulling weapons out of the trunk.

Molly came around and noticed the arsenal, immediately backing away. “Okay. Thanks for helping, but I think I got it covered from here.”

“Wait. Molly, Molly, wait a minute,” Sam begged, chasing after her.

“Just leave me alone.”

“No, no, no. Please. You have to listen to me,” he told her.

“Just stay away!” Molly started walking faster.

“It wasn't a coincidence that we found you, alright?” Sam told her.

“Oh, here we go,” you told Dean.

“What are you talking about?” the blonde asked defensively.

“We weren't just cruising for chicks when we ran into you, sister,” Dean snarked. “We were already out here. Hunting.”

“Hunting for what?” Molly questioned.

“Ghosts.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it for her,” you deadpanned.

“You're nuts,” she laughed in disbelief.

“Really? About as nuts as a vanishing guy with his guts spilling out. You know what you saw,” Dean pressed.

“We think his name is Jonah Greeley. He was a local farmer that died fifteen years ago on this highway,” Sam explained despite Molly begging him to stop. “One night a year, on the anniversary of his death, he haunts this road. That's why we're here, Molly. To try and stop him.”

It seemed like this was starting to make sense to her. “Now, I suppose this... ghost… made my car disappear, too.”

“Crazier things have happened, huh?” Dean replied.

“You know what? I'm all filled up on crazy. I'm gonna get the cops myself.” She started away.

“Not to be harsh, but you’re not gonna get far,” you called after her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she scoffed, turning back.

“Means that plan A was trying to get you out of here. Obviously that didn't go over too well with, uh, Farmer Roadkill,” Dean informed.

“Molly, we're telling the truth,” said Sam. “Greeley's not gonna let you leave this highway.”

“You're s— you're serious about this, aren't you?”

Dean nodded. “Deadly.”

‘No pun intended there, I’m sure,’ you thought.

“Every year, Greeley finds someone to punish for what happened to him. Tonight, that person is you,” Sam told Molly.

“Why me? I didn't do anything,” she cried.

“Doesn't matter. Some spirits only see what they want,” Sam shrugged.

“So you're saying this ... Greeley, he took my husband? Oh, god,” she wailed.

Sam caught her gaze again. “Molly, look, we're gonna help, all right? But first, you gotta help us.”

“Help you?” she questioned. “How?”

*** Molly led you over to a deteriorating hunting cabin where she saw Greeley. You walked in behind Dean, only slightly unsettled by the numerous blood-stained tools scattered around the room. Hunting ghosts, chopping them up— sure, no problem; Animals? They were off-limits in your mind. 

“Huh. Seemed like a real sweet guy,” Dean commented upon taking in the bloodstained metal table.

“No markers or headstones outside,” Sam told you and Dean.

“You're looking for Greeley's grave?” Molly asked.

Sam nodded.

“Why?”

“So we can dig up the corpse and salt and burn it,” Dean responded nonchalantly.

“Oh. Sure, naturally,” the blonde scoffed.

“It's a way to get rid of a spirit,” Sam told her.

“And that'll save David?” Molly asked.

“Well, this is what'll help both of you, provided there's a corpse to be found,” Sam replied. You could tell the truth was burning on his tongue.

“So how do we find it?” Molly continued.

“I'm not sure. After Greeley died, his wife claimed the body. And that was the last anyone saw of her. So good guess she brought him back here. But they had a thousand acres. He could be buried anywhere on 'em,” Sam said.

“So this is really what you guys do? You're like Ghostbusters?”

“Minus the jumpsuits,” you remarked.

Briskly, Dean started, “This is a fascinating conversation and all, but this highway is only haunted once a year, and we got till sun-up to wrap this thing up. What do you say we move it along, okay? Great.”

You followed Dean outside to search for Greely’s corpse or his house.

“Can’t say I’m enjoying babysitting Casper,” you whispered to Dean.

“Me neither,” he chuckled.

“Any thoughts on what’s got her stuck?” you asked.

“Probably the fact that she doesn’t know she’s dead,” he shrugged.

“But… why would that matter?” you questioned.

“I guess you can’t move on if you don’t even know you have to,” he said.

“Makes sense,” you considered. 

“David? David? David!” you suddenly heard Molly screaming behind you. She then yelped in shock, and you immediately raised your shotgun loaded with rocksalt and shot above Molly’s head at Greeley, who was holding her above the ground. He disappeared upon the round’s impact and dropped Molly.

“Nice,” Dean told you.

“Thanks,” you grinned.

“Hey! Are you alright?” Sam asked Molly.

“What has that son of a bitch done with my husband?” Molly shrieked.

“Just take it easy, alright? You're gonna see David again. You will,” Sam told her.

You noticed uneven cobblestone starting under your feet. “Hey!” you called to them.

Dean jerked his head in your direction. “Follow the creepy brick road.”

You followed closely behind Dean, blocking out Sam having to recap how ghost hunting works to Molly.

“You know, just once I'd like to round the corner and see a nice house,” Dean commented as you turned toward a slowly decaying house. It was similarly built to the smaller hunting cabin you’d first stumbled upon. You stumbled around the house, searching for any sign of Greeley or his body.

Molly and Sam stuck together at the back of the pack, and Dean stayed outside to look around. You headed up the stairs to look around. Upon doing so, you found a slew of papers strewn about. You searched through a few of them, only finding receipts, scrapbook pages, and to-do lists; nothing about a potential burial site. 

Sam and Molly soon made their way into the room and you tuned out their conversation about vengeful spirits as you poked around a wall that seemed strange to you. 

Dean appeared at the doorway. “Sammy's always getting a little J. Love Hewitt when it comes to things like this. Me, I don't like 'em. And I sure as hell ain't making apologies for 'em. There's nothing downstairs. You find anything?”

“Uh, just about every piece of mail or receipt they ever had. Looked through a couple, but nothing about a grave so far,” Sam explained.

“There’s somethin’ back here, though,” you said, referencing the wall. You tossed your flashlight to Sam. You dug the balls of your feet into the floor against the adjoining wall and shoved the cabinet in your way over a bit. You revealed a small hidden door, and you dusted your hands off on your jeans as you crouched to it. “It’s locked from the inside,” you announced.

“Move over,” Dean told you. When he saw you were clear, he threw a back kick at the door. You were surprised to see the door still upright. So was Dean, to your amusement. He gave it yet another kick, and it finally fell inward.

You crawled through the opening with Dean hot on your heels. “It smells like old lady in here,” he grimaced. 

You stood, shocked to see a woman hanging by her neck from the ceiling. “Jesus, that explains why,” you cringed, covering your nose with the back of your sweater sleeve. 

“Well, now we know why nobody ever saw her again,” Dean commented.

“She didn't want to live without him,” Molly cooed sadly.

Sam found a chair the woman had assumedly knocked from under her feet when she passed away. “Dean, give me a hand.”

“Really?” Dean scoffed.

“What are you gonna do?” Molly questioned.

Sam gave his brother a scolding look. “We can't leave her like this.”

“Why not?”

“She deserves to be put to rest, Dean.”

You gave Dean a look as well, and he reluctantly agreed. He moved toward the woman’s body as Sam cut her down, cursing under his breath when it dropped into his arms; either at the smell or the fact that he was holding a corpse.

You helped the boys dig a grave for the woman, and Dean gently laid her in it.

“So... So, if you manage to put Greeley to rest, too... What happens to them?” Molly asked. 

Dean chuckled. “Lady, that answer is way beyond our pay grade.”

“You hunt these things, but you don't know what happens to them?” she pushed.

“Well, they never come back. That's all that matters.”

“Agreed,” you chimed in, but you knew the answer wasn’t satisfying her. “Look, once we get ‘em to let go of whatever’s keeping ‘em here, they just… go. Honestly, I hope some place better, but I don’t know. No one does.”

“What happens when you burn their bones?” she continued.

“Well,” Sam began, “my dad used to say that was like death for ghosts, you know? But… the truth is, we still don't know. Not for sure.” He looked over at Dean. “Guess that's why we all hold on to life so hard. Even the dead. We're all just scared of the unknown.”

“The only thing I'm scared of is losing David. I have to see him again.” Molly paused for a long while. “I have to.” ***

You stood next to the two brothers after you left Molly in a room next door to the one you were in the house. Sam said he needed to talk to you both. 

“I think we should tell her about her husband,” Sam sighed.

“Oh, hell no,” you told him. 

“(Y/N), it's cruel, letting her pine for him like this. I don't like keeping her in the dark.”

“It's for her own good.” Dean got up from the chair behind you. “Man, I know you feel guilty, all right? But let's just stick to the plan. Let's get her out of here. Then we'll tell her.”

Molly suddenly appeared at the door. “Tell me what? What aren't you telling me? It's about David. You know what happened to him.”

“Molly—” Sam began.

Dean cut him off. “Sam, don't.”

“Don't what? Don't tell me because I'll mess up your hunt? You don't care about me or my husband,” the blonde angrily said.

“That's not true.”

“Really? Then whatever it is, tell me, please.”

The younger brother swallowed, hesitating. Before he could say anything, a radio distantly went static. Then, it played “House of the Rising Sun.”

“Oh, great,” you grumbled.

“Stay with Molly,” Dean told Sam. He jerked his head at you to get you to follow him toward the sound. You followed the sound toward the living room, getting louder with each step. Dean stooped next to the radio and picked up a frayed, broken power cord. You heard another noise and headed to the door. It frosted over, revealing the words “She’s mine.”

You heard a scream and ran back to the room you left Sam and Molly in.

“He's got Molly!” Sam pointed out the broken window.

You jumped through it, running through the woods. You ran for a few minutes before you cursed under your breath, chest heaving. You returned to the house and started flipping through a scrapbook.

“This guy is persistent,” Dean said, coming up beside you.

“We gotta find Molly,” Sam huffed.

“We gotta find Greeley's bones,” Dean added. “And, uh, no pressure or anything, but we got less than two hours before sunrise.”

You noticed something in a picture of the hunting cabin with the Greeleys standing in front of it. “Hey.”

“What do you got?” Dean questioned.

“ 'February 6, 1992’,” you read aloud.

“That was, like, two weeks before the accident, wasn't it?” Sam chimed in.

“Yeah, but… something seems off. I swear there’s a tree right where they’re standing.” You tapped the picture.

“I should've thought of it,” Sam scolded himself.

“What?” you and Dean asked in unison.

“It's an old country custom,” Sam explained. “Planting a tree as a grave marker.”

Dean chuckled. “You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness.”

“Yeah. I know,” Sam deadpanned somewhat bitterly.

You broke off in a sprint toward the hunting cabin with a shovel in hand. You immediately began digging around the tree. You suddenly heard a scream as the brothers came up beside you. 

“Go get Molly,” you instructed Dean, who nodded and headed inside.

Sam began helping you dig around the tree. You dug in silence feverishly until Sam said, “Hey, I got something over here.”

“Hurry up, guys!” you heard Dean distantly yell.

You looked into the spot where Sam was digging to discover a set of bones carefully laid in an open grave. You ducked down to the duffel bag beside Sam and handed him a container of salt as you searched around for the kerosene. Quickly, you stood back up and emptied the kerosene on top of the body as Sam finished salting the bones. Sam lit a match he’d grabbed and dropped it on top of the bones which immediately ignited into a roaring fire.  

Dean came out of the house with Molly, and you noticed a deep gash on Dean’s cheek. You ran to him as Molly continued ahead to Sam. You gingerly touched the wound, and he hissed in pain.

“When this is over, I need to patch that up,” you told him.

“I’m fine, (Y/N),” he insisted.

“Stop being so hardheaded. I need to fix it up before it gets infected,” you argued.

Dean grumbled, “Fine,” and followed Molly and Sam to the Impala. He patted the hood of his car lovingly. “Oh, baby, it's been a long night,” he cooed, dropping his bag in the backseat and climbing into the driver’s seat.

You rolled your eyes at him, and got down into the seat behind him.

You saw Sam arguing with Molly outside of the car, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. You then saw her smile in relief before eagerly climbing into the car next to you.

Wordlessly, Sam and Dean exchanged a look. You figured Sam told her he’d take her to David. Dean then drove a route you’d taken before to the man’s house. You pulled up to the lovely suburban home, light emanating from it into the dark night.

“He's in that house, right there,” Sam told Molly.

Her shoulders dropped and formerly cheery expression changed. “I don't understand.”

“You will.”

You got out of the car and stood next to Dean. 

Molly’s breath quickened. “That's— not— It can't be.”

You watched the woman carefully, and for the first time, felt bad for a vengeful spirit. You watched as David stood dressed in a bathrobe holding a steaming cup of liquid, sipping it before a woman came up to him and pecked him on the lips.

“What's happening?” Molly questioned. “Who is that?”

“David’s wife,” you answered. 

She turned back to the house, confused, before turning back to you and the Winchesters.

“I'm sorry, Molly,” Sam began softly. “Fifteen years ago, you and your husband hit Jonah Greeley with your car. David survived.”

“What are you saying?” The blonde’s voice wavered.

“We're saying there isn't just one spirit haunting Highway 41,” Dean added. “There are two. Jonah Greeley and you.”

“For the past fifteen years, one night a year you've been appearing on that highway,” explained the younger brother.

“No, that's not possible. It was our anniversary… February 22nd—”

“1992,” you cut her off.

“Yes,” she responded, looking at you like you were stupid.

“It’s 2007,” you finished.

“Oh, god,” she cried. “And Greeley?” 

“Each year he punishes somebody for his death... ah, chasing them. Torturing them. And each year, that somebody is you,” the brunet explained.

“But I don't remember any of it.”

“Because you couldn't see the truth, Molly. Some spirits only see what they want,” Sam told her.

“So that's why he won't let me off the highway. Because... I killed him. I killed us both.” Molly shakily moved over to the front steps of the house. You followed her over as she inquired, “Why didn't you tell me when you first saw me? Why wait until now?”

“You wouldn't have believed us,” Dean replied.

She looked up t0 Dean, stating accusingly, “And you needed me for bait.”

“Well, we needed you,” Sam chimed in.

“David,” she breathed out.

The younger brother sighed. “Molly, we brought you here so you could move on.”

“I have to tell him—” 

You cut her off. “Tell him what? That you love him? That you’re sorry? I’m sure he knows that. You go in there, you’re gonna scar him for life. He’s already grieved you. Let him move on.”

“David's already said his goodbyes, Molly,” Sam continued. “Now it's your turn. This is your unfinished business.”

“What am I supposed to do?” she sobbed.

“Just... let go. Of David. Of everything. You do that, we think you'll move on,” he explained.

“But you don't know where.”

“No, but that’s okay,” you said. “You don’t belong here.”

“Haven't you suffered long enough? It's time. It's time to go,” Sam finished for you.

She nodded sadly, then slowly stepped away from you and the brothers. She moved down the road toward the rising sun, and allowed herself to become absorbed by the light dawning. 

“I guess she wasn't so bad... for a ghost,” Dean remarked. He turned to his younger brother. “You think she's really going to a better place?”

“I hope so,” he shrugged.

“I guess we'll never know. Not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?” Dean quipped.

“Doesn't really matter, Dean. Hope's kind of the whole point.”

“Alright, Haley Joel.” He smacked Sam on the shoulder. “Let's hit the road.”

You and the brothers decided you needed to get some sleep a few towns over before searching for another case. These periods of down time between hunts were always bizarre; driving with no particular destination would always feel foreign to you no matter how many times you had done it.

***

You forced Dean to come to your motel room to let you patch up the few wounds he’d sustained from fighting Jonah Greeley’s ghost. 

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” he grumbled.

“I think it is. So, tough,” you said firmly. 

Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but he thankfully said nothing. You set to work bandaging his cheek, standing between his spread legs as he sat on the bathroom counter. “How’s your shoulder?”

“What?” he asked.

“The gunshot wound, maybe?” you remarked.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” you giggled, half-mocking him. 

“It’s fine. Barely even feel it,” he shrugged.

“Then I guess it won’t be a problem if I give it a once-over,” you challenged.

Dean cut his eyes back at you, but decided against arguing. He shrugged off his leather jacket, then his canvas jacket, then pulled his undershirt over his head. No matter how many times you’d seen Dean shirtless, the sight would always make your breath catch in your throat. He seemed to note your reaction, smirking at you wantonly.

You rolled your eyes, fighting an amused smile as you unwrapped the wound on his shoulder. It was getting better, but you were still concerned about the wound becoming infected. The bullet had lodged in him several inches deep, and it was certainly going to take more than a month to fully heal. Gingerly, you touched the skin around the wound, and Dean hissed and grabbed your wrist.

You looked up at him apologetically, but still mockingly said, “ ‘Barely even feel it’ my ass.”

He rolled his eyes at you and released your wrist. When you had it completely wrapped up, your fingers lingered over the edge of the dressings. Dean grabbed your wrist gently once more, bringing it to his lips and kissing the inside near your pulse point. Your breath hitched as he did so, and he stared at you intently. You shrank under his gaze, heat spreading through your cheeks, and his self-satisfied smirk returned to his face.

“There you go again,” you joked quietly. “Always cheapening the moment.”

He smiled, using his free hand to wrap around your waist and bring you closer to him. He took the wrist he’d been holding and wound it around his neck and leaned forward to kiss you. You responded eagerly, pushing him back down onto the bed. You grinned against his lips, getting lost in the feeling of his body against yours. However, the two of you didn’t have sex that night. It was just enough to be with each other. The idea of that was foreign to the both of you— especially Dean— but you were grateful all the same.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[in-jail-out-soon7]

Happy New Year!

After the New Years' festival, you and Mikey talk about the future.

Manjiro Sano x GN!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, tooth rotting fluff, a little bit of angst if you squint & Reader mentions having a kid

A/N: I wish you all the best 2024! January is definitely gonna be a hard month for me mentally, but now that I have my writing to look forward to I know it's gonna be alright. Enjoy Lovelies❤

You lay down in the grass while Mikey kills the engine of his bike behind you. Flipping open your phone you gaze lazily at the bright light, trying to adjust to the screen at least enough to see the time.

1:04 A.M. January 1st, 2006.

You close your phone with a click and shove it into the top of your kimono. The New Year's festival had ended an hour ago. Everyone had gone home, Draken offering to take Emma home, so Mikey could drive around with you. Emma happily agreed.

Rubbing your eyes, Mikey slumps down in the grass next to you with a thud. You roll onto your side to face him.

He lays on his back staring at the star dotted sky. He rubs his hands together. "Shit."

Raising an eyebrow you prop your chin in your hand, pushing yourself off the ground with your elbow. "What's up?"

"It's cold." He pulls his own kimono up slightly to cover his exposed collarbone.

"Oh." You chuckle. "I told you. We should've went home."

Mikey shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't say anything else. You sigh and drop your elbow, folding your arms on the grass to rest you face against.

It's quiet for a few moments. Just you staring at Mikey as he stares at the sky. Picking at a blade of grass you finally break the silence.

"What do you think this years going to be like?" You ask.

Mikey hums and thinks for a moment. He shrugs. "Probably the same as every other year." He turns onto his side to face you. "There's not really a lot we can do right now. As kids. Maybe the year after us and the gang graduate, there'll be more things to do."

"Wait," you sit up quickly. Mikey gazes up at you, confused. "You were planning on finishing school?" You tease in an overdramatic and sarcastic tone.

Mikey rolls his eyes and pushes you back down by your shoulder. "Shut up, (Y/N)."

You chuckle. Even though he wasn't wrong, it still felt weird to refer to yourself as kids. After everything that's happened in the past year, all the fights and deaths, you forgot that you, Mikey and the whole gang were still just kids.

A small sigh falls from Mikey's lips as you settle back into place. As you two sit there in comfortable silence, you begin to feel your eyelids growing heavy.

Lacing your fingers through his you begin playing with his finger tips, tracing along each detail of his calloused hand. "How about in twelve years or something then?" You blurt out suddenly.

Your voice was drowsy and soft as you fought the urge to fall asleep. Mikey chuckled. "Don't know. Like jobs?"

You shrug.

"Maybe like a mechanic or a motorcycle racer- I don't know?" He says. "I think it's easier to think about other people's futures."

You raise a brow and glance at him through your lashes. "What do you mean?"

"Like Takemitchy and Hinata," he starts. "They're gonna get married, Kenny and Emma too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Kenny and Emma are gonna have a kid too, they're gonna name it Manjiro Jr." He says jokingly.

You scoff. "They are not." Surprisingly, Mikey doesn't argue back, letting the silence take over again. The wind howls and you shudder against the cold. A yawn escapes you before speaking up again. "Is that something you want?"

Mikey raises an eyebrow. "Is what?"

Suddenly nervous you drop his hand and your gaze to the grass. Picking at the earth you swallow, your face growing hot. "A kid."

He doesn't respond and you can't tell what he's thinking, too distracted by your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"Obviously not now- y'know!"

Mikey chuckles nervously and sucks in a breath. "I would hope not." He wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, pushing your face into his chest. "How about we just worry about this year?"

You nod against him. "Okay."

And then once again it was silent. The wind brushed against you two but you found warmth in each other's bodies. You take a long blink, your eyelids drooping lazily.

"Oh.. hey," you start before yawning. "We didn't have our New Year's kiss yet."

Mikey hums. At first it didn't seem like he was going to do or say anything, but before you could follow up your observation he brings a cold hand to your face, cupping your cheek before leaning in and placing his lips against yours. His lips were chapped from the cold and you could still taste whatever candy he had been eating at the festival. Somewhere in the distance fireworks boomed and crackled.

When you pull away you roll away and flop onto your back with a satisfied sigh. Allowing your eyes to flutter shut. You hear the movement of Mikey as he scoots closer to you.

"You can go to sleep," a hand brushes against your face and you shiver.

"I'll be here when you wake up."

[silantryoo]

XTRA [ RP STONT ] —  happy new year, unnie

miny/n spend their first christmas together (with everyone else, of course)

WARNINGS ; fluff, crack, yujin being annoying, everyone is taken basically (except for chaewon)

y/n wasn't attached to her phone.

there was once a time where she was, almost a year ago. she remembered those late nights, scrolling through each one of her burner accounts, watching as the snow fell against her chilled window. each word, each article seemed to invade her mind, and it felt like the world had given her the worst gift of all.

she hated herself back then, almost as much as she loved kim minji now.

"i don't understand why we have to host it in our dorms." y/n could hear kazuha complain, groaning as chaewon ushered them to clean faster.

y/n didn't mind, in all honesty. cleaning reminded her of minji, and how the girl would reprimand the youngest newjeans member to pick up after herself.

her girlfriend was so cute.

"you'd rather sneak yujin in?" yunjin raised an eyebrow, teasingly.

chaewon stopped in her tracks, letting her duster hang to the side. "you sneak yujin in?"

a chill ran down y/n's spine. if she found out kazuha had been sneaking yujin in from time to time, there was a greater chance that she would figure out she and minji were doing the same.

"no."

y/n could see kazuha glaring at the american in the golden retriever onesie. the kim already knew what was going through her best friends mind, the ballerina trying to recall any wrongdoing that yunjin had done.

nakamura kazuha was scary, exactly ahn yujin's type (though she'd never admit it).

"um," y/n cleared her throat. she was glad her leader had a short attention span. "when are they coming again?"

"yujin should be here soon." chaewon went back to dusting, the cheetah print of her onesie moving along with each sweep. "hanni just texted yunjin that their on their way. kkura-unnie's somewhere getting something with chaeyeon."

"i bet they ditched us."

y/n held back a sigh. it's not that she didn't want to hang out with her members, but she'd prefer if she hung out with her girlfriend one on one.

y/n missed her girlfriend.

"probably not." chaewon shook her head. "kkura-unnie said she's bringing a surprise for me, whatever that means."

the three younger girls look at each other.

sakura and chaeyeon were actually doing it. they were doing the plan.

"is she talking about-"

kazuha nodded. "i already helped yunjin-unnie to hang it."

yunjin gave a thumbs up, her body basically vibrating at the thought of her leader finally growing brain cells. she hoped sakura's plan worked this time around. if not, then perhaps chaewon was meant to be single for the rest of her life.

"hang what?"

the three looked at each other once more. they looked at chaewon.

she was so gonna kill all of them if she found out.

"what?"

on cue, the doorbell rang, the monitor lighting up to alert the girls of the presence of a human. a part of y/n wondered who conveniently appeared at that very second, but she knew it could only be one person.

y/n walked to the monitor, looking at an eye that seemed to be centimeters away from the camera. if she didn't know any better, she would've chalked it up to a twelve year old playing with their doorbell camera, but y/n knew that playful glint in the 'stranger's' eye, all of daejeon did.

she looked at kazuha, waiting for the taller girl to react.

kazuha, like always, giggled, a blush dusting her cheeks.

there it was.

pressing down on the button, kazuha spoke into the mic, her voice echoing her smile. "yujin!"

"hi." yujin smiled into the camera, stepping away. "you look pretty."

y/n rolled her eyes. the two always flirted so shamelessly in front of her. if kazuha wasn't so happy and yujin wasn't one of her best friends, she would've thrown up.

the kim spoke into the mic this time, watching as yujin smiled at the thought of her girlfriend.

"you can't see her through the camera."

the idol shrugged, "i don't need to. i already know she's gonna be pretty."

kazuha giggled once more, earning chaewon's attention who sighed at the interaction. she never understood how someone could act like that with another person.

"gross." y/n frowned. at times like these, she wished minji was near. "ka-chan'll open the door for you."

"okay."

although the door was was a mere meter away, kazuha still rushed as if her life depended on it. she hadn't seen yujin in a while (three days ago, to be exact), and she was sure she was losing her mind.

on the other side of the door, the idol could hear the door unlock at lightning speed. yujin's smile widened. the thought of seeing her girlfriend was making her impatient, her leg tapping against the pavement.

the door swung open, but before the cold breeze of winter could burst through, yujin launched herself onto kazuha, lifting her up with a strength that could only be from the adrenaline she felt.

y/n sighed, closing the door behind them. she watched as the two exchanged pleasantries, ignoring the kim that was standing behind them.

"hi, i'm here too." y/n raised an eyebrow at the couple. "i'm your best friend. am i just a block?"

"zuha's my girlfriend, though." yujin peaked around the corner, checking for the le sserafim leader before she planted a kiss on kazuha's cheek. "she's also your best friend."

y/n covered her eyes as kazuha wrapped her arms around yujin's neck.

"you're so sweet."

y/n wished minji was here.

the door opened once more, the maknae of le sserafim staring at y/n. the younger girl's cheeks were rosy, her eyes shifting around. y/n could tell she was hiding someone behind her.

it couldn't have been kim minju, sakura and chaeyeon were still on their way.

slowly, a familiar face peaked out from eunchae's shoulder, her cat-like eyes meeting the kim's. she could hear kazuha gasp behind her, yujin snickering.

chaewon was gonna kill someone tonight.

"you're kidding."

"stop leaving the door open!" y/n could hear chaewon's voice coming closer to the door, and there was no doubt she'd see kyujin's bright red cat onesie as soon as she saw what was happening. "the hot air is leavi-"

chaewon dropped the duster, a small clatter echoing the entry.

yujin bit her tongue once more.

"so, um... surprise! kyujin is spending her christmas with us!" eunchae grabbed her girlfriend's arm, shoving y/n out of the way as the two entered the house. quickly, the youngest engulfed chaewon in a hug. "thank you so much, i love you, you're the best unnie ever."

chaewon blinked.

"hold on-"

"you're the best, unnie!" eunchae signaled for kyujin to hurry, the idol rushing inside and bowing politely to all those she passed (yunjin stood in shock).

eunchae let go, chaewon's mind still reeling at the fact kyujin was most likely gonna stay in the dorms, overnight.

"yah!" eunchae scurried of at the sound of the leader's voice. "hong eunchae!"

y/n sighed once more, tapping the back of her phone as she closed the door. she watched as yujin entered the living room, arm wrapped around kazuha's waist. off to her left, kyujin and eunchae sat on the sofa, chaewon eyeing them, holding back her tongue.

the kim glanced at her phone, waiting for minji to text or to call, just wanting to know where her girlfriend was and if she was close.

"i miss my girlfriend." y/n spoke to no one, head hung low as the hood of her onesie covered her face.

yunjin, being in ear shot, patted the younger girl's back, watching as she sulked like a puppy. "she's on her way, y/n-ah."

y/n whined, and it took everything in yunjin to not tease the younger girl.

"i miss her now."

her and yujin were more alike than she'd like to admit.

yunjin rubbed her back, trying her best to reassure y/n.

"she's on her wa-"

"i miss her." she whined once more, hating the feeling of not having her girlfriend around her.

yunjin shook her head. she was glad that she had more security to not act like this, even if she did miss her girlfriend back in america. minji, who was at most five minutes away, was here in seoul, and y/n was getting more and more impatient by the minute.

it was cute, honestly, but yunjin now had to babysit a sad kim y/n and an angry kim chaewon while keeping an eye on kazuha and yujin.

she didn't understand how sakura did it, or how eunchae seemed the most responsible out of the four of them.

"unnie, where's minji?"

"she's on her way."

"i want my girlfriend now."

yunjin could only hope for minji's quick arrival.

chaewon was going insane.

it wasn't because eunchae had dragged her girlfriend to the christmas gathering. in all honesty, she actually liked kyujin. the youngest member of nmixx was responsible, her thoughts seemingly organized, the perfect contrast to their eunchae. chaewon just liked putting up a front, so kyujin knew there were consequences if she broke their maknae's heart.

truthfully, kazuha and yujin were more of an issue. chaewon knew how yujin's mind worked, the ive leader was much like her. she liked having kazuha around, and urging her girlfriend to wreak havoc onto her, sakura and y/n (mostly her, though). chaewon could handle that, even if the glint that formed in kazuha's eyes scared her.

minji was no problem either. she was sweet, and thoughtful, always stopping by to say hello to her whenever they encountered each other in the corridors between breaks. she was a breath of fresh air for y/n, and, although chaewon would be outwardly livid, she wouldn't mind minji marrying y/n.

she could handle all of that usually, but this christmas had a glaring problem.

kim minju.

why did minju have to be so pretty?

the doorbell rang repeatedly, echoing throughout the house as each alert was cut off by the next. y/n, not bothering to check since only one person (read: haerin) did that, nearly ran to the door, opening it to face the newjeans girls in their respective onesies.

minji smiled sheepishly, her cheeks rosy from the cold of the december night. if y/n wasn't so upset, she would've kissed her right there.

the le sserafim member ushered the girl group in, closing the door behind her, ignoring minji's longing stare.

usually, y/n would jump into her arms, and minji would basically ascend at the feeling of being so close to her girlfriend. minji, like always, would cherish the feeling, like she cherished kim y/n's entire exsistance.

now, there was nothing but a frown.

"you took long." minji looked down, gripping onto the gift in her hand. "were you busy looking at other girls?"

the newjeans' leader's eyes widened, shaking her head. she'd be crazy to think of anyone but her girlfriend. come to think of it, minji hasn't thought of any other person like that since she liked y/n, not even her celebrity crush.

minji liked her kim more, anyway.

"minji?" hanni snickered. minji ran around the house like a lunatic for an hour or two. "she was late because-"

"shut up!" minji covered hanni's face, shoving her away lightly. even if they had been dating for a while now, the young idol still felt nervous. it was their first christmas together, after all.

y/n raised her eyebrow, scanning the other girls' faces.

hyein, like always, looked back at the kim, her eyes gleaming with excitement. y/n wondered if hyein had grown, or if y/n had merely shrunk. still, she knew that hyein would never rat out their leader. danielle was smiling at her, obviously trying to hold her tongue. her cheeks twitched from how hard she was smiling, looking between y/n and her girlfriend. y/n knew she wouldn't rat her out either.

and then, there was haerin.

"oh." haerin started. her face was void of emotion, but her eyes seemed to tease her leader. "minji-unnie couldn't find her perfume since hyein used it last. she said she needed to smell good for you."

minji glared at the girl. she knew that haerin would tell y/n, but the last part wasn't necessary.

it didn't matter, because minji could hear her girlfriend giggling beside her.

she looked over, letting go of hanni as y/n engulfed her in a hug. minji could feel herself smiling involuntarily, and a part of her still couldn't fathom how happy she always got around her girlfriend.

she looked down, her eyes meeting y/n's. minji's eyes fluttered closed, feeling y/n kiss her cheek.

"you're so cute, kim minji."

minji's face lit up, her heart beating loudly against her chest. the young idol, although seemingly shy when it came to affection, loved it every time.

still, she had some common sense, and considering she was at the le sserafim dorms, where chaewon constantly kept an eye on them...

"unnie!"

minji was scared of her girlfriend's leader, and she didn't understand how y/n wasn't.

as if chaewon had sensed something was wrong, she came over, looking between y/n and minji with suspiciously. she didn't understand how someone so short could hold so much authority with a single stare.

"no kissing in front of children." chaewon pointed a finger at minji, and the taller girl bowed slightly, muttering sorry's.

y/n rolled her eyes.

minji straightened back up, noticing there was another, more familiar looking girl to chaewon's left. hanni gasped at the sight, gripping onto danielle who hit her shoulder repeatedly.

"let them live, unnie." the mystery woman's voice seemed to calm down chaewon, and minji could feel the air finally enter her lungs once more.

"o-okay..."

y/n bit the side of her cheek. her leader was no better than her. in fact, chaewon was worse, cheeks bright red as she stared back into the other girl's eyes.

y/n felt minji lean over to her, her breath tickling her ear as they all entered the living room.

"is that the girl you told me about?"

y/n had told her on one of their many 7-eleven runs that chaewon was worse than the both of them combined when it came to a certain someone. minji never believed her, chaewon seemingly against anything that was romantic in some shape or form.

("she's just bitter because she can't pull.")

"minju-unnie?" y/n could see her leader's hand twitching, fighting off the urge to grab the actresses hand. she couldn't help but shake her head. "yeah."

minji believed her now.

"oh." minji put her present down next to the tree. she went over to chaewon, placing a hand on her shoulder. "good luck, sunbaenim."

"what?"

the le sserafim girls (minus chaewon) burst out laughing.

"stop laughing!" chaewon whined as minji scurried back to her girlfriend. "i don't get it!"

kyujin wondered if she was going to die today.

she had her fair share of playing against some of the most competitive players she's ever met. haewon always made them play just dance together (even though kyujin had won every time they played). she was used to the screaming and shouting, but this was different.

jang kyujin feared for her life.

"you're a cheater!" chaewon had a stack of uno cards in her hands, pointing violently at the girl who tried to hide behind her maknae. "eunchae, your girlfriend is a cheater!"

eunchae couldn't help but laugh.

"you just suck at this, unnie."

chaeyeon shook her head. no matter how different chaewon looked on the outside, her habits never seemed to change.

"how did you manage to get an entire deck in one round?"

"shut it!" the leader whined, groaning as she leaned into a now flustered minju. "i was actually trying this time..."

as the shouting continued, sakura could only watch as they continued to fight. the members of newjeans (and yujin and minju) watched silently, obviously overwhelmed with the amount of accusations in the air.

("it's your fault you're bad." "you're not even playing!" "this is why you're single." "do you know how to play, unnie?" "don't insult me, jennifer.")

"are they always like this?" chaeyeon whispered into her girlfriend's ear, sakura sighing.

"you should see how bad it gets when its just us."

"ugh." chaewon could only take so much berating, finally letting kyujin off the hook and 'allowing' her to win. "fine, whatever. minji, go ahead."

minji nodded, looking around as chaewon, yujin, and yunjin stared at the cards in her hands.

"go minji-unnie!" hyein cheered suddenly, distracting everyone. "our official goddess visual."

minji shook her head. "seriously, hyein?"

hyein shrugged, and continued to cheer her member on. everyone knew that it was either her or yujin that was gonna win, both girls having four cards left versus yunjin and chaewon who had 10+ cards each.

"my votes on yujin." chaeyeon smiled at her former member.

she already knew minji was going to win, but it never hurt anyone to support the losing side.

"thanks, unnie." yujin beamed, her eyes shifting to kazuha. "i've got you on my side, right, babe?"

"well..." kazuha smiled innocently, yujin's face dropping. the ballerina began to scoot over to yunjin. "yunjin-unnie has no one cheering her on."

"babe," yunjin's eyes gleamed in excitement while yujin whined, saying that she 'needed her girl' to win. "please?"

"sorry." kazuha kissed her cheek, earning a gasp from chaewon (she chose to ignore the older girl's words. minju would calm her down eventually). "if it makes you feel better, y/n's doing it, too."

minji looked beside her, trying to reach y/n before she sat beside yunjin.

y/n was her girlfriend. minji wanted her girlfriend to cheer for her, and she wanted to win for her (and hyein too, she guessed).

"unnie?"

y/n looked over to her girlfriend, finding the young idol pouting lightly. minji, like always, looked adorable, her cheeks slightly red from how badly she wanted to win, and her eyes begging the older girl to sit next to her.

"don't look at me like that." y/n muttered, fighting back the urge to kiss her girlfriend. "you know yunjin-unnie's gonna cry later if she doesn't have anyone cheering for her."

"i will not!"

she was.

y/n smiled, grabbing minji's hand and squeezing it lightly. "next game, okay?"

minji nodded. "okay."

the game continued, kazuha and y/n helping yunjin with every chance they had. every so often, y/n would shoot minji a soft smile, and it was enough for minji to know that her girlfriend was cheering her on.

god, minji loved y/n so much.

"i wanna be like them." danielle sighed, resting her head on the cat-like girl's shoulder beside her.

haerin tensed up, hyein too busy to notice it this time around. hanni, however, wasn't.

"that's your cue, haerin." she leaned over, shoving the girl lightly as danielle continued to watch the game unfold.

haerin glared, staring into hanni's soul as if she was trying to suck it out with her eyes.

"damn, what's with the eyes, girl?"

"this is stupid!"

chaewon whined, watching as she finished last. sakura laughed into her cup, her smile reaching her eyes as she stared into chaewon. chaeyeon shook her head, knowing her girlfriend was only angering the girl.

"you really suck at this, chaewon-ah." sakura teased, earning a laugh from yujin.

"shut up!" chaewon growled, calming down as she felt minju's hand rubbing her forearm. "i... i forgot the controls."

y/n shook her head, glancing at the rest of her members. she looked at the screen, watching the score board as she sat comfortably in third place, right behind a bot in second and sakura in first.

the idol leaned back into minji, feeling her girlfriend wrap her arms around her waist as y/n continued to sit comfortably on her lap.

"i'm doing good, right?"

minji nodded, kissing y/n's shoulder. she hadn't been paying attention, in all honesty. her, yujin and kyujin had been talking about something unimportant while the others played mario kart on sakura's switch. hyein and haerin were off watching kazuha's newly bought goldfish swim around in the kitchen, while danielle and yunjin were gossiping about their love life's.

minji felt at peace, knowing that her girlfriend was near her.

the young idol kissed y/n's cheek once more, earning a groan from hanni.

"stop making me feel single, bro." hanni muttered, rolling her eyes.

"that's on you, bro."

hanni stuck her tongue out, frowning as the next course started. it wasn't her fault she had a crush on her childhood best friend (but it was her fault for not saying anything to him).

"minji." yujin called out, her eyes laced in curiosity. "do you call y/n bro?"

minji shook her head. "no."

minji looked at the girl sitting on her lap, laser focused on beating hanni, chaewon, sakura and eunchae. minji had called y/n bro before they had started dating, but it never crossed her mind now that they have. perhaps her girlfriend would prefer it over 'unnie' or 'baby'.

"do you want me to call you bro, unnie?" minji asked.

y/n tensed up, glancing behind her as she mashed on the buttons harder.

("yah, kim y/n! don't break my controller!")

y/n hummed, clenching her jaw. the thought of minji calling her that upset her. she wasn't a 'bro'.

"do you want me to break up with you?" y/n asked sweetly, watching as she got passed by hanni. she cursed under her breath, exhaling out of her nose.

minji's eyes widened.

"no."

"then no." y/n muttered, listening to chaewon cry out in frustration as she overtook her.

minji nodded, ignoring the snickering that came from hanni beside her. hanni couldn't care less about the fight that almost broke out at that moment, not when she was currently in first place.

yujin, watching everything play down, turned to kazuha with a sweet smile.

"babe," the ive leader loved looking at her girlfriend. "can i call you-"

"finish that question and i'll break up with you."

hanni snickered once more.

"oh."

chaewon liked to think that she knew minju like the back of her hand.

she knew the younger girl's favourite snacks, the way she liked her ramen cooked, how her eggs were boiled. chaewon knew minju's favorite colors to wear, and what brand of shoes were her go-to.

there was no way chaewon would lose this game this time, not when she knew everything about the love of her life.

"my turn." minju sat herself down comfortably between sakura and chaewon. the actress could feel everyone staring at her, waiting.

part of her wondered how dense chaewon truly was. she adored it most times, like she adored chaewon, but at times like this, she hoped that chaewon could see past her words. she hoped chaewon could see what she really meant and how she really felt.

minju cleared her throat, smiling nervously as she avoided chaewon's fiery gaze. "i have a crush on someone in this room, i've met the head of samsung before, and i've been offered to model overseas."

"definitely the first." chaewon said almost immediately. she would know if minju liked anyone. she would be crushed, but she would know.

the leader looked around, watching as everyone, even the younger girls, looked at her curiously. she didn't understand their stares, but at least chaewon knew that they would all lose. there was no way minju would like anyone without chaewon knowing.

the others nodded in agreement, muttering to themselves as the le sserafim leader watched from a distance.

"minju-unnie," eunchae started, her hand held tightly by kyujin. "it's samsung, right?"

minju could feel herself blush. it had been mere seconds before most of the girls had come to their conclusions. she had never been a good liar, chaewon had told her so.

"was it that obvious?" minju scratched her cheek.

chaewon paused.

"you like someone?" suddenly, the air felt like it was on fire, chaewon's lungs burning with every breath she took.

minju liked someone, someone that wasn't her. the girl that she had loved since they had first met didn't feel the same. kim minju didn't feel the same because she liked someone else.

chaewon wished she was someone else, whoever that was.

"you're blind, unnie." y/n shook her head, resting her cheek against minji's shoulder.

yujin raised an eyebrow. "you're one to talk."

y/n looked at yujin with a blank look. she knew all the ins and outs of the ive leader, the taller girl telling her everything that happened during her promotions, including things that kazuha didn't know about.

y/n smiled.

"ka-chan," y/n called out for her best friend. "did you know that yujin recently got asked out by-"

"no one!" yujin couldn't let kazuha find out, not when she knew how it would affect her. "no one. my eyes are only on you and for you, anyway."

kazuha looked at yujin, her eyes scanning her girlfriend up and down.

"okay." kazuha hummed, watching as yujin sighed in relief. "we'll talk about that later."

yujin pouted, trying her best to grab kazuha's hand and reassure her that nothing happened. perhaps ning yizhou had asked her out the week before, ambushing the taller girl as she tried her hardest to memorize her lines for sbs, but yujin immediately said no.

still, kazuha didn't care. at least not right now.

yujin shot minji a look, begging her to reason with her girlfriend just this once.

minji frowned. "unnie."

"she was being mean to me." y/n reasoned.

minji didn't budge, gesturing at kazuha who was now ignoring yujin. she watched as the taller girl tried to get her members attention, but to no avail.

sighing, y/n nodded.

"sorry, yujin." y/n frowned. "yujin reject her, anyway."

kazuha's lips twitched into a smile.

"really?"

yujin nodded as y/n buried herself into minji's arms.

yujin and kazuha were gross (but y/n knew that she and minji weren't any better).

y/n watched as her leader followed kim minju around, tailing her like a puppy following it's owner.

beside her, minji shook her head, part of her cringing at the thought that she was (and still is) exactly like chaewon. she knew how it felt like, to feel like the girl that you were so in love with didn't love you back.

all minji could remember was how awful she had felt back then, when she stupidly thought that y/n had felt something for yujin.

she hoped that chaewon was smarter than her, that she could avoid the stress and heartbreak she felt at that moment.

minji sighed, grabbing her girlfriend's hand. "do you think she's ever gonna figure it out?"

y/n could only shrug, chaewon was as dense as her, if not worse. there was a chance that le sserafim's leader would only figure it out once it was too late.

the kim looked at sakura and chaeyeon, the two eyeing minju and chaewon closely.

there was no way they were going to let that happened.

"maybe later when kkura-unnie and chaeyeon-unnie force them under the mistletoe."

"someone should do that with haerin and dani." hanni hummed, nursing a red solo cup that held nothing but fruit punch. she rested her head on hyein. hanni didn't need to look, she already knew the contents stirring inside the younger girl's brain.

"not you, weirdo."

"why?" hyein whined. "i've behaved all night."

minji glared, pulling y/n into her arms. "you wouldn't let go of my girlfriend."

to minji, it was the truth. all night, she had to watch her girlfriend near hyein, hogging her girlfriend and holding her close, all the thing's that minji should've been doing.

in reality, it had only been one instance where hyein had done that, and it was when the two had been paired up (and won against yunjin and kyujin) in the whisper game.

"she's mine."

hyein shook her head. minji shouldn't have taken that drink from yujin. now, she was slightly tipsy, acting territorial.

minji felt a light nudge on her shoulder, turning her head to come face to face with y/n.

"baby, it's your turn." y/n whispered. minji nodded, taking the controller and arguing with kyujin over who was going to play kirby this time.

y/n turned to hyein, an apologetic smile on her face.

"don't worry about her too much, hyein-ah."

"i won't." hyein sighed, opening her phone as she started typing away. "i'll keep this in mind for the toast though."

"what toast?" y/n tilted her head.

"when you guys get married?"

y/n felt herself flush, her face turning bright red.

"what?"

"what?"

as if nothing happened, hyein went back to texting on her phone. she ignored the curious stare from y/n, wondering what hyein meant with the toast.

hyein was always weird, but y/n couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of minji proposing to her.

y/n squinted at the lamp sitting on her desk, illuminating the room with its bright light.

the others had all been asleep in the living room, two queen sized, inflatable mattresses taking up the entire space. it was suffocating, in all honesty. no matter how hard y/n tried to sleep (or how close she tried to get to minji), it was nearly impossible.

she needed to get out of there.

"chaewon-sunbaenim said i'm not allowed in your room." minji hesitated, feeling her girlfriend tug her inside.

"it's my room." y/n whispered back, closing the door behind her as minji looked around. the dim light made her face glow in the dark, like an angel that had descended from heaven. "it's not like you haven't been in here before."

minji nodded, ignoring the gnawing fact that she had only been inside when chaewon was out.

"did you have fun?" y/n asked. "i know unnie can be a bit over protective but-"

"i did." minji smiled.

it didn't matter if she was in the middle of nowhere. as long as minji stood next to y/n, the young idol would always enjoy her time.

kim y/n was her joy, and that would never change.

"good." y/n sighed in relief. "i'm glad."

minji's eyes gleamed in the dim light of the lamp shade, her irises trained on the girl in front of her. she felt herself scratching the side of her thumb, peeling off the skin. all minji's emotions seemed to bubble up in her chest.

this was it.

"it's been a year." minji had rehearsed this, just like she had rehearsed everything.

"yeah." y/n nodded, watching minji squirm in her bear onesie. "it went by so fast."

minji had snuck the present in here somewhere. she had hid it amidst the ruckus that was the second round of uno (kazuha, y/n, chaeyeon, minju and haerin). she could see it from where she was standing, the bag sitting on her girlfriend's desk.

minji kissed her, tasting the same vanilla lipgloss that the older girl had always worn, the one that shimmered against the light as they laid on her bed.

this was it. minji couldn't mess up now.

"i love you so much." but this wasn't part of what she practiced. she wasn't supposed to be overwhelmed like this. minji didn't understand why she always felt a surge of emotions, of love next to the older girl.

it terrified her, but somehow, she was okay with it.

"why are you crying?" y/n asked, minji relishing the touch of the older girl's fingertips as she wiped her tears away.

"i don't know." minji muttered, smiling slightly as y/n captured her lips once more. the young idol sighed. "sometimes, i feel horrible for the way i treated you."

y/n shook her head, "i treated you worse."

looking down, minji remembered all the times that y/n had ignored her. she remembered all the times that the older girl had sneered, rolling her eyes and ignoring the girl.

but minji had also remembered everything else, like how y/n looked at her that day, when min heejin had berated the older girl.

she was nothing like minji, and although minji loved that about her, it had broke y/n that day.

minji had no excuse, and she knew that from the beginning.

"still." the young idol shook her head, looking down at her feet. she didn't know if it was the singular shot that yujin had made her take or the guilt, but minji felt it in her soul. "yours was valid, but i had nothing to go on. i just hated you to hate you."

she loved y/n more than she had hated her, and now, the thought of hating the love of her life gnawed her down, especially as the rings sat on her girlfriend's desk.

"even if you did, that doesn't matter anymore." y/n said, kissing minji's forehead. "right now, you love me, and i love you. i forgive you, kim minji. i always will."

all that ever mattered to minji was y/n.

y/n's eyes looked into her own, her irises shining, swirling in happiness and love. minji didn't understand how one person could make her so happy, just like y/n didn't understand how one person could make her feel like she was capable of doing something right.

this was it.

the younger girl nodded, grabbing bag on the table. she handed the bag to y/n, praying that her hands didn't tremble.

"i, um," minji could see the velvet boxes as she looked down. "i got you something."

"what?" y/n frowned. "minji, i thought we agreed that we were only going to get one present. you said-"

"i lied."

y/n wanted to refuse. minji had always treated her too kindly, giving her gifts left and right, as if she had all the money in the world. although the older idol never felt indebted to her, she wished minji had thought about herself more.

but the older girl couldn't disappoint minji.

slowly, she opened the bag, reaching for the piece of paper, folded neatly with a heart sticker holding it closed.

y/n couldn't help but smile.

minji and her stickers.

the kim opened the letter, her heart beating out of her chest. she wondered if the girls outside could hear it from where she stood, or if minji, standing in all her beauty, could hear it too.

y/n shook her head, taking a deep breath as she began to read.

unnie, i'm not good with words, but i don't know how else to express this. i love you so much. whether you're a kim or not, whether you're mine or not, i'll always try my hardest to make you smile. i hope you carry this ring and know that it's a piece of me. i hope that when you look at it, you'll be reminded of all my love, and not who i was before. i promise to love you for as long as i can. - kim minji.

y/n could feel the air escaping from her lungs.

she glanced at minji, grabbing a singular box with her initials engraved on it. she opened it, the gold shining into her eyes.

it was simple, just how she liked it, but it was intricate enough to be special.

y/n loved it, just how she loved minji.

"are these...?"

promise rings. y/n didn't have to finish her sentence for minji to understand.

"yes." minji whispered, her voice slightly shaking. "they are."

y/n threw her arms around her girlfriend, tears streaming down her face as she felt the younger girl pull her impossibly closer.

"i love you." y/n had never felt it more in that moment.

"i love you too." minji smiled.

y/n pulled back, watching as minji grabbed the box in her hand, taking the ring and placing it onto the older girl's hand.

"i promise to always love you."

minji had never lied to y/n in her life, and she wasn't going to start now.

"i promise to always love you too."

y/n wasn't honest from the start, but she knew this time it was different. y/n could feel it in her heart.

minji leaned in this time, feeling the comfort that was her girlfriend. her mouth placed briefly but firmly against the older girl's brought her nothing but happiness.

this was it.

minji didn't mess up.

"happy new year, unnie." minji muttered against her mouth. "thank you for smiling at me."

"happy new year." y/n smiled, placing another soft kiss on minji's lips. "thank you for being the reason for my smile."

masterlist

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@fav9yu @gojosrug @lizseos @captivq @invusblog @writingficsblog @wonyoluvr @limbforalimb @lethalvenus @archerheejin @bibrinastan @ahnneyong @theeyoon @phamminji @chaersly @misumiausworld @afiaaaa19 @yumtooki @oshyci @txtbrainrot @falling-intoo-deep @0310lvr @yizhoutv @rinpopz @serenitygrace24 @noiacha @marimo-anura @sserajeans @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @rd0265667 @li0ilthecxnt @dmndtears @rosiehrs @yeridaenggi @spritin @cecedrake2217 @meltingbluess @jeonsy98 @haerinstolemyhrt @ssambf @awkwardtoafault @babycubchae @perfectsunlight @forever-in-the-sky2

[scarisd3ad]

A really cute 'n playful Carl x fem reader cuddle sesh in his room? Like with reader laying on his chest (or vise versa) And they're playing with each other's hair, giving sweet, gentle kisses and being all adorable and in love 🥺.. (bonus if Rick walks in on them asleep together, gets Michonne and they're both standing there for a minute like 'awwww young love 😭❤')

Promptober day 22 - cuddles

Pairing - Carl grimes x reader

Warnings - none

A/N - this is the same reader from day 7 so Glenn and Maggie are like readers guardian/parents.

Promptober ‘23 masterlist

Main masterlist

Taglist

Carl's and i's hands are interlocked as we walk into his house. our footstep are cautious and quiet just in case one of his family members are home right now. It's not like we were going to do anything bad. It was just embarrassing at our age to be caught doing anything romantic. "Dad?" carl calls out into the house as he lets go of my hand. "Michonne?" no answer, so he grabs my hand and drags me back to his room.

I've never really been in his room, ever. Most of the time we hung out outside away from the others, so they wouldn't catch us. No one knew about us, as far as everyone else knew we were just really good friends, and nothing else. Well, that was the truth until a few weeks ago when we kissed and there was no going back after that.

I sit down on his bed as he kicks his shoes off. "soo what are we gonna do?" I ask. I was clueless about the whole relationship thing. The world ended when I was twelve and at twelve, I hadn't even held a boy's hand yet, and ever since then there wasn't time for a boyfriend or to even have a crush until now. I didn't know what boyfriends and girlfriends did when they hung on. I barely even knew how to kiss. "Just hang out," he says with a smile, "like we do all the time," he adds as he sits down next to me. My heart pounds against my chest as he grabs my hand. No matter how many times he holds my hand or kisses me, it always makes me flustered.

We end up on his bed, laid down, with his arm wrapped around me as he read a comic book. He carefully wraps and unwraps my hair around his finger, leaving the strand in a weird-looking curl. I'm nervous, and i think he can tell because he looks down at me before pressing a kiss to my forehead. My head lays flat against his chest so I can see what he's reading. We both end up falling asleep, arms wrapped around each other, and legs tangled together.

knock, knock, knock

We both quickly wake up and turn around, eyes wide in panic. We're both met with rick leaning against the doorframe with a tiny smirk on his lips. "dad get out!" carl shouts as he gets up off of the bed. He pushes rick out of the room and slams the door shut. I sit up so my legs are dangling off the bed. I didn't know if rick would tell Glenn and get me in trouble. I didn't know if what we did was worthy of getting in trouble for, but despite that fact, it still mortified me.

"I think I should go," I whisper as I wrap my arms around my body. "yo-you don't have to go, I don't think my dad cares that much anyway," I shake my head. "Glenn's probably worried I should go," I whisper as I walk out of Carl's room. ricks in the kitchen like he was waiting for either carl or I to come out. "Are you going to tell Glenn?" I ask my voice quiet and meek, terrified of what his answer was going to be. Glenn was always going to see me as that terrified little 12-year-old he had found abandoned on the streets of Atlanta. I just knew if he found out about carl and I dating he'd probably try to kill carl.

"Why would I?" Rick furrows his brows as he stares at me. "I just-I just don't want Glenn to know yet," I whisper as I cross my arms over my chest. He was overprotective, especially when it came to boys. I understood to a certain degree I was like his daughter. He's known me since I was 12, but he needed to let go a little. Rick walks over to me and places a hand on my shoulder. "Its alrigh' kid, tell him when you're ready."

Taglist

@leonkennedylefthand @maexyn @truecobblepot @mfnqueen1 @zoey5252 @nezukos-number1fan @bxbyyyjocelyn @dr3amyk1ng

[strangersteddierthings]

Are you interested in writing something billy is still giving steve a hard time at school like since max isn't there to keep an eye on him, maybe like in the locker rooms, something more privately, since Nancy would also probably say something and eddie walks in on the aftermath and he decides to help despite not thinking highly of steve yet

Eddie is returning from skipping class when he hears a clang! ring out as he passes by the locker room. A well-known sound, one of someone being shoved against the lockers. His first thought is poor bastard but better you than me and his second thought, because his uncle raised him right, is I better check this out, and if nothing else, I'm a witness.

"Not so tough without a twelve-year-old girl here to protect you, huh," Billy Hargrove's voice is unmistakable. Eddie's heard it enough this year, between selling him weed and setting between him and members of Hellfire. He's willing to admit some curiosity to the statement Hargrove just made. Who in the hell is he beating up that was saved by a twelve-year-old last time?

"She's thirteen, you jackass," groans a suspiciously familiar voice. Eddie knows he knows it but can't place it.

"You always seem to focus on the shit that doesn't matter," Hargrove sounds amused, like he's smiling while he talks. Eddie can see it now, the too big, too fake grin that spreads across Hargrove's face before he lunges like a feral dog.

What follows next is the sound of a tussle. It sounds more like a wrestling match than a fight, but the squeak of gym shoes against linoleum changes pitch, and Eddie is moving. Hargrove is dragging someone around in there and the little voice in the back of his mind that sounds like Wayne will not let him get a bit of sleep this week if he walks away.

It's a shock, to put it mildly, when sees Hargrove and Harrington, neither of which are wearing gym clothes, so Eddie has no idea how they ended up here. He watches as Hargrove tosses Harrington to the ground in the showers, whose head bounces off the tile. Ouch. Before he can say anything, make his presence known, Hargrove reaches over and turns the shower on, dousing Harrington.

"This seems... interesting," Eddie says, trying to play it cool, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the lockers to survey the situation. They both have bruising, days old it looks like, on their faces. Maybe they'd come here to try and finish what they'd started? "Who's winning?"

Hargrove laughed. "You've got a good sense of humor. Knew I liked you."

He tries to give back a shit-eating grin, but it probably just looks like a grimace. He's not a fan of either of these two and does really wish he'd kept walking. He's quickly trying to weigh the pros and cons of taking a side here. Hargrove's a jackass but he's also one of Eddie's best customers and he can't really afford to lose him; not with the amount Hargrove buys. Harrington, however, has become the more bearable of the two to be around, since Jonathon Byers rocked his shit last year, but he didn't buy his drugs from Eddie, so...

The water shuts off, catching Eddie's attention. He and Hargrove both turn to Harrington, who looks so pathetic using the shower walls to climb his way to standing.

"No, yeah, I can definitely tell who won," Eddie says, earning him another laugh from Hargrove, who claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder as he moves past, leaving the locker room without another word.

Harrington, meanwhile, staggers out of the slash zone and pulls his shirt off, trying to wring out the water from it. Eddie just watches. This is the easiest fight he's ever had to breakup, and while he doesn't know why it was so easy, he's not really going to start asking questions. Honestly, the less he knows, the better.

"Don't think that's gonna work."

"Helpful," Harrington mutters, even as he lowers his arms in defeat and frowns down at his shirt like it's the shirt's fault he's wet.

Eddie is not staring. He's not. Because that's the kind of shit he's learned to not do because it gets the shit beat out of you. So, it's not staring. It's... investigating. Categorizing the damage Hargrove has done. To make it known that is what he's doing, he asks, "how much of that was Hargrove?" as he gestures to all of Harrington with one hand.

Harrington looks down at his own chest, almost bewildered, like he can't believe he's bruised. "Uhh.... 73 percent?"

He doesn't want to laugh but his body makes an involuntary snort-giggle at Harrington's questioning voice. "Alright. What's the other 27 percent from?"

Harrington pokes at a bruise and then sways violently, stumbling himself backwards to slam into the wall. "Shit. Think 'm concussed again. Didn't think the first one was done."

"Shit, man. We need to get you to the nurse," Eddie might not like Harrington, but concussions are no joke. Eddie'd been in charge of waking his uncle every hour on the hour a few years ago, when he'd got knocked good on the head at the plant.

"Right. Sounds good," Harrington agreed, even as he slumped more against the wall.

Shit. Eddie's going to have to drag him there, he can tell already. "Alright, man, let's go."

Harrington doesn't protest when Eddie shoves himself under his arm and wraps a hand around his middle. Harrington and he are the same height, it seems, but the dude's been on every sports team the school offers, like not being involved in an after-school activity will result in his death or something. What he's getting at is that he certainly weighs more, what with the muscle mass he's got going.

Briefly he wonders if a concussed Harrington would let him get away with coping a feel at his abs or arms, but that's dismissed immediately. Stop being a creep, Munson.

"Why're you helpin'?" Harrington says, about halfway to the nurse.

Eddie shrugs, "my uncle always says to look out for the little guy."

"Hey. I coulda won that fight. If he hadn't brained me on the lockers before repeating the performance with the shower tiles."

"You're going to have brain damage."

"Mmmm think I've always had that," Harrington says it softly, like he's talking to himself and has forgotten Eddie is within hearing distance. "I think each blow to the head is making me, like, a better person. Un-brain damaged."

"Yeaaahh, not sure about that last bit, but you've been less of an ass since Byers got you last year, so I can't say for sure you aren't right."

They make it to the nurse. Eddie deposits Harrington into an empty chair and the nurse helpfully gives Eddie a note for his next class, should he decide to actually go.

"Wait," Harrington calls out when Eddie's half out the door, so he twists to look back, raising an eyebrow at him. "Thanks, Eddie."

"Don't worry about it, Har-Steve," Eddie replies, slipping out the door and closing it behind him. Since when does Harrington know his name?

[withacapitalp]

How come "books are books, shows are shows, do whatever you want w characters" doesn't apply to B*lly? Not trying to start drama, just genuinely want to understand. Is it because he's a bad guy I can't reshape him into something I'd like and ignore what's "canon?"

Oh boy Nonnie okay I'll try to be really clear but it probably won't come out super legible. I'm putting it under a read more because I don't wanna clog up my dash w a long explanation (which knowing me it's going to end up being) I also want to say that all of this is MY opinion. I'm no one's ultimate judge, I'm just a guy on the internet who writes stories.

All that to say, this is why I think that fundamentally the idea that Eddie's sexuality and Billy's racism can be manipulated in fandom on the same level is really flawed.

Overall I think that the point of fan fiction is personal enjoyment. Ultimately you're creating something with yourself as the audience in mind. If not, then I don't really get it. So, for you, maybe it can mean that. Do I personally agree? No, but I can't stop anyone from creating something and putting it online. That's the whole point of ao3, no bars, no barriers. When you start putting that kind of wall in place, a slippery slope starts to form, so even if I would never personally partake in some forms of fanfic, I get why it's important to have a place where any kind of fic can exist. Back button exists for a reason, block button exists for a reason, curate your own online experience.

I'm not gonna be the person who says like if you like Billy you're a garbage person, because like that just isn't true? The two aren't automatically associated. Do I think that people who want to erase that part of Billy should maybe examine that urge? Yeah, but I think we all need to look inside and see where systematic racism might make us think things are more acceptable than they should be. I also can't understand people who want to give Vecna a redemption arc, or the people who think Sn*pe was just misunderstood. Regardless, we're all works in progress, and 90% of people to me are capable of learning more and growing and seeing where they might be working with a bias. I know I definitely have my own too.

I personally just will not give him redemption of any form or reshape him, because to do so seems to be disrespectful from my point of view to real life people. I'm not a person of color, Billy's racism is at the forefront of his character, so for me to reshape that and erase it in a fanfic feels like I would be ignoring a serious thing and pretending like that never happened, when it exists in our society in a major way. There isn't a point where Billy's racism ever gets resolved. In fact, the whole thing gets dropped completely in s3 which seems like a really terrible oversight by the Duffers. It's used as a plot point when it was convenient, which is messy and wrong.

But All of that is just background to your real question here which I believe is this-

Why is it okay to change a character's sexuality, but not their bigotry?

For me, I don't really like to equate the two? I think that the idea that someone's sexuality is a 'flaw' that needs to be reshaped is kinda problematic, and we also don't actually know Eddie's sexuality. Everyone can say what they think till the cows come home, but at no point did we get 'Eddie is confirmed gay, straight, bi, etc. etc.' EVERY single interpretation of Eddie's sexuality is someone shaping canon as they see fit right now.

With Billy he is confirmed racist. He is 100% undoubtedly a racist. Not even someone who used to be racist who learned and repented. He was always racist and tried to commit a hate crime against Lucas (I would argue that he did, because holding a twelve year old up against a wall and threatening to kill them because they're black and they dared to want to get to know your sister feels like a hate crime to me) The only reason he didn't seriously hurt Lucas was the fact that Steve stepped in. That's it. He was going to assault a child for his race.

To compare ignoring that to playing with a character's sexuality feels....mm I just strongly don't agree. I don't exactly have words to explain, but I really don't.

I think there are things you can change about characters easily. You can change their sexualities, their ages, their genders, their backstories, but to fundamentally erase something like that just doesn't line up for me.

No call out here Nonnie, I appreciate that you wanted to ask and be open, but this is my question for people who want to change Billy that way- What is it about Billy that is so compelling that it feels necessary to change that part of him? Why is Billy the character you *need* to write for?

Jonathan is a fantastic big brother who has a ton of issues and was abused by his father. If you're having the hankering to try and examine a flawed big brother, he's right there.

Eddie is an outcast (and strongly implied that he comes from an abusive home) and if you're looking to try and write about that, he's right there.

Steve is the character that has actually GONE through the redemption people always try to give Billy. He said slurs and did bad things, and almost immediately went to make amends for them when he was able to acknowledge he did the wrong thing.

Billy never even apologized. He hadn't changed by the time he died, and no I don't think sacrificing himself was some major change. I think that a villain can be tragic without needing to retroactively make them a better person. Billy is a flawed and broken person. Yes that probably relates mostly to the way he was raised and the fact that his family was violent, but that doesn't excuse it. The Byers have an abusive home, and at no point does Jonathan act the way Billy does. I think they're really good foils to each other on what can happen with a big brother.

Anyways this was a really really long answer nonnie, but I hope I got it across why I really disagree with that stance. If anyone was offended or upset, know that wasn't my intenion, and feel free to let me know.

[iwanttofuckereh69]

To properly celebrate @hornyimpulsivity's birthday i decided to inflict emotional damage onto everyone with both an illustration and a fic. Happy birthday bestie <333

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Draken (Ryuguji Ken) x Hanma Shuji

Rating: T

Word count: 1k

Content warnings: angst, breakup, mentions of smut

Summary: It's been twelve years since Tenjiku. Draken and Hanma met again when they both were at their lowest. One thing led to another and what was supposed to be a one time thing, started to become more scary than any of them was willing to admit. Now Draken is struggling to tell Shuji the truth. He is after all more afraid of losing him than anything else.  

A/N: Hello, this is a short scene pulled out from a bigger thing so probably not everything makes perfect sense without the context. Artwork by me, and the story is a group effort between me and @hornyimpulsivity. Enjoy! PS. dialogues are written with "-" instead of quotes marks because im polish and stubborn

Shuji didn't laugh. He didn't mock the Dragon for being a pussy that’s whining over a few burned photos. He didn't say anything borderline insulting, trying to be funny, like he used to. Instead there was warmth. A bit of kindness the Dragon desperately needed. A compassion he wasn't expecting. And surprisingly wise words he should probably consider actually listening to. The Reaper was right, placing his hand on top of the Dragon's heart, pointing to right where it hurt. Where all those memories still were, just like he said, as vivid as ever, despite the photos that captured them being gone. Those weren’t just frames, still images frozen in time, fading on the crumbled pieces of paper. He could still hear all their voices. Their naive laughter. Their youthful playfulness. The smell of the beach in the midst of July, the smell of gasoline and the roar of engines. The sweet perfume Emma used to wear. And even Shuji was there somewhere amongst all the others, an annoying brat from a long time ago, with ugly ass hair and lame leopard print on his bike. The same Shuji that could punch the living shit out of Draken when nobody else dared to come close to him. The same one that now held him, keeping him from falling apart.

Draken smiled softly, looking up at him, in those beautiful eyes of his, glistening as if they were pure, liquid gold. It wasn't the first time Draken couldn't tell what twisted emotions filled those eyes of his. But it wasn't the first time either, when he felt nonetheless utterly fascinated by them. And it sure as hell wasn't the first time he just couldn't stop looking.

He wanted to tell him so many things. Make so many stupid, cringey confessions. But before he managed to open his mouth, his lips were already occupied. The kiss was sudden... and yet, funny enough, expected. So many times Ryuguji caught Shuji's curious eyes wandering across his smile. So many times he himself shyly gazed at his lips. He was scared of this longing, he was scared of the feeling it brought along.

He didn't protest, however. Quite the contrary. He entangled his fingers into Shuji's hair, pulling him closer, as close as he could possibly get, angry at the stupid clothes that kept their skin from touching.

Draken lost his balance and leaned over the wall, pushing Shuji against it, kissing him as if it was their last kiss.

(It was.)

It was different from all the kisses they shared so far. This time it wasn't about fucking, it wasn't about satisfying that primal, filthy desire. It was much more meaningful. Much more scary. Because they shouldn't be kissing like that. They shouldn’t be feeling like that. They were never meant to… And yet they found each other somehow. 

- That's gonna be a memory I'm going to hold onto most desperately - he whispered into his lips, holding Shuji's face close, not ready to open his eyes, not ready to confess that it was probably their last kiss. - The one i will probably cherish the most - he added.

He wasn’t ready to let go of him, scared that Shuji would disappear. 

- I'm not just a memory yet, my Dragon. - Hanma whispered softly and smiled right into Draken's lips, before allowing them to connect once again. 

One of Shuji's palms quickly ended up on the side of Draken's neck, caressing it with fondness and occasionally sliding his thumb across his jaw and cheek. The other one eventually found its way to the Dragon's hip. Soon, Hanma's curious fingers were wandering up Draken's body, reaching his waist, and to his backside, squeezing his buttcheek in quite a playfull and weirdly affectionate manner. 

Not yet. But soon. 

Draken’s lips trembled when he felt Shuji kissing him again so impatiently it hurt. It hurt somewhere inside his chest, somewhere where his heart was, his heart that was beating so fast it seemed like it was about to tear apart his chest. 

Ryuguji gasped, feeling his touch. Impatient as ever and yet… intimate. Affectionate. Tender. Shuji’s palms knew Dragon’s body so well, as if he had touched him a million times before. And maybe he did. In this life, or another. He just seemed to know all the curves, all the crevices. Like a lover would. 

Is this what they became? The unintended lovers? That was supposed to be a one time thing. A brief encounter, a chase after bodily pleasure, nothing more. But it became more. Yet Draken couldn’t even pinpoint exactly when that happened. It just stopped being brief somewhere along the way. It stopped being simple and just horny. 

They were supposed to be just friends with benefits. Buddies that fuck sometimes. It’s not like Hanma would ever even consider them to be something more than that, right? Right…? 

And yet, here was Kenny, struggling to say whatever he was about to say out loud, as if those few words would break his own heart. As if those would break Shuji’s heart as well. That was probably the most horrific of things. He cared about that pretty boy, obviously he didn’t want to hurt him. The situation just… got out of hand. But he couldn’t let it continue either, it wasn’t fair. 

- Shuji - he whispered softly, trying to stop all those tender, affectionate kisses the Reaper was placing all over Ryuguji’s lips. He moved back and gazed at him as Shuji took a big draw of a half burned cigarette. Damn he was pretty. Inside and out. He deserved the fucking world. But Draken couldn’t give it to him. 

- Hm…? 

- I… I got back together with him - he said, so quietly that only his Reaper could hear it. He wished he didn’t say it at all. There was that tricky, malicious part of his brain that was telling him to not say a word. But it wasn’t fucking fair. 

[brandyllyn]

Mysterious

Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Summary: Benny tries to follow-up up the next day. Words: 4.6k 

My Masterlist

Rating: Explicit. Warnings: language. smut. cannon typical violence, oral (m receiving), PIV.

The long awaited sequel to Adventurous. Only took 3 years.

Benny’s phone was unmoving where it sat on his desk. Screen blank. He kept glancing at it, occasionally reaching over and lighting the screen up to see if he had new messages. Then he scrolled into his texts, pulling up 'Kiki' and staring at the single bubble sitting there.

Hey sexy.

It felt like a safe enough opening. Not too eager. He glanced at his watch and cursed, it hadn’t even been twelve hours since he’d seen you. Had draped his coat around your shoulders and walked you to your car. Pressing you against the cool metal and giving you a long deep kiss.

He could still taste you.

Fuck he could still feel you. The ghost of your skin on his fingertips. The clench of you around his cock. He grunted and adjusted himself, shifting in his chair slightly as the detective’s report swam in front of his eyes. He needed to get his shit together or some cholo was going to shoot his ass.

"Borracho." 

Benny whipped his head up at Nick’s voice. "Ya boss?"

"You got that ballistics report?"

Benny rifled through the papers on his desk, pulling the file and handing it off to Nick. His boss thumbed through the pages then tapped him on the shoulder with it. "Nice job last night."

His brow’s drew together and he gave Nick a confused look. "With what?"

"The-" Nick made a thrusting motion with his hips, his voice going high and mocking. "Oh Benny. Benny!" The larger man laughed and Benny rolled his eyes.

"Fuck off."

"I’m just saying, we had a bet going you couldn’t even get it up anymore.” Nick sniped as he walked away, “Cost me a hundred bucks."

"My man’s a stallion," Henderson shouted from across the room. "I knew you had it in you brother!"

See this? This was why he never did shit at the parties. These fucking assholes right here. Taking what was hands down one of the best nights of Benny’s life and putting bets on it. Bets they didn’t even have the decency to include him on.

And his phone remained dishearteningly blank.

“She give you a fake number?”

His eyes darted to Zapata but he tried not to react. “Who?”

“That girl, the one you been pining over for weeks.” It was his turn to turn on that mocking, high pitch voice, “Benny.”

“Just cause you can’t get a girl to scream your name…”

Zapata laughed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “She give you her work number?”

Now that thought hadn’t occurred to him. Maybe he’d gotten lost in a sea of other men. Picking up the phone he looked at his message once more.

Hey sexy.

Not a damn thing to identify him - just one text in probably a mountain of others.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, thumbs already moving.

Hey sexy.

You’d been staring at the text all day, a flutter deep in your chest each time you opened your phone. This was the first time you’d had to really think about it, about how to respond. From the moment you went on shift it had been non-stop calls. Suddenly another bubble appeared.

Shit. It’s Benny. From the hotel.

You snorted into your mid afternoon coffee. As if you could forget. You gave a quick search for your crew, who must still be in line, before typing.

I assumed.

The reply was instantaneous. Never got your name.

You gonna run a background check on me?

No. His reply came through a minute later. Just wanna know whose name I should be groaning when I jerk off later.

Fuck, was it hot in here? It was hot in here. You felt warm suddenly, a thread of desire curling in your abdomen.

That okay?

You didn’t hesitate before sending back, Yeah but it’s gonna cost you. You waited about ten seconds before sending, Kidding.

At almost the same moment his response came through. K.

You laughed, tilting the phone away when your partner got back with his lunch. What a doof. Just for that you should make him pay for dinner. Or drinks. Or whatever you ended up doing between your busy shifts and whatever the fuck it was a moderately dirty cop got up to.

Mulling it over you swiped a french fry, ignoring your partner’s cry of outrage. Benny hadn’t seemed dirty - he seemed like a pretty nice guy. But the drugs in the room and the hired girls screamed that something hinky was going on there. And you definitely didn’t want anything to do with that.

But you really wanted something to do with Benny.

A conundrum.

The radio squawked and you answered it automatically, making note of the location and starting to make guesses on what you would need.

Before putting the phone away you typed one last message.

I get off at seven, want to meet up for coffee or something?

Coffee.

Benny could do coffee. It would almost be a date. Just you and him sitting at a café somewhere. Well, to be honest probably a Starbucks - but somewhere that wasn’t a bedroom where he might be able to get your real name out of you.

"Guy’s gonna bleed out," Henderson pointed out blandly, pulling Benny out of his musings.

"No he ain’t." Nick squatted down next to their suspect, the only guy left behind on a raid gone bad. "He’s not going to bleed out until I let him, are ya champ?"

The man groaned and Benny rolled his eyes, searching his pockets for a smoke. The second ambulance was pulling up, the first already on its way with the cop who’d gotten shot in it. Nick was pissed about that. Benny was too, to be fair, but he also thought the guy was an idiot to get shot the way he had.

Nick slapped the guy’s face lightly. "Stay with me buddy, where is the safe house? Where did your friends go?" An EMT went to push past and Nick held up a hand. "Not yet."

"Sir we have to-"

Nick whirled around, glaring daggers. "You can help him when I say you can help him. Now step back and let me do my fucking job."

The two EMTs gave each other worried glances then moved back with the stretcher. One of them turned and rushed to the ambulance, probably to call their supervisor. Even more fucking paperwork and there was no way in hell Nick was gonna do it. Benny met Zapata’s eyes and the other man raised an eyebrow before sighing and following after.

"Yeah that’s right buddy. Help is here. But I’m gonna pronounce you dead on scene real fucking quick if you don’t-"

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Someone shoved past Benny and he had just enough time to register the uniform and the voice before you squared up with Nick, arms akimbo. Benny’s cigarette dangled from his lips, unlit.

"I’m doing my fucking-" Nick started but you took a step closer, poking a finger into the center of his chest.

"No, you’re keeping me from doing mine. Dave, Jorge, get in there. Now."

The two men darted in, ignoring the glare from Nick. "You are interfering with an-"

You cut him off again and Benny imagined he could see steam coming out of Nick’s ears. "I swear to God if you finish that sentence I will have your badge." 

Nick glared. You glared. Benny had half a chub. The two EMTs lifted the suspect onto the stretcher. Finally Nick grunted, "Connors, go with them, see if you can get anything."

The man nodded and followed the EMTs. You nodded once, decisively, then turned on your heel. You looked taken aback to see Benny and he gave you a small smile when he saw how your face lit up at the sight of him.

"Hey," you squeezed his arm as you went by. "Gotta go. Later right?"

He watched your ass as you jogged off, hopping into the front of the ambulance and expertly guiding it out of the assembled police vehicles. He waited until you were out of sight before turning back to his team.

"What?"

"That the hooker from last night?"

Benny sipped his coffee, eyebrow raised. "Don’t know what you’re talking about, I saw a stretcher jockey."

Nick turned quickly, "The hooker?"

Zapata was back, hands shoved in his pockets. "Tried to stop her boss, she threatened to fucking deck me."

"You let a little girl scare you?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Well she wasn’t about to fuck me."

Nick fumed, hands gesturing wildly. "What the fuck is going on?"

"The EMT," Zapata said before Benny could stop him. "The chick that came running here like a bat out of hell? Benny’s girl?"

Nick wasn’t dumb.  "Wait, that was the girl? The one screaming through the walls?" Benny didn’t confirm it, there was no need. The recognition was flowing over Nick’s face like a wave. "Find out who she is. Report her for conduct."

"Wait a fucking minute," Benny’s styrofoam cup hit the ground, his hand catching Nick’s elbow. "That’s not-"

"Did you see what she just did?" Nick rounded on him. "We may have just lost our only lead because of her. I want her reprimanded. I want her under review. I want her fucking mom to know how she pays her fucking rent."

Benny groaned, meeting Henderson’s eyes. Then he pulled out his phone and texted you back. 

Yeah, he needed to see you. Seven worked.

You were running late. 

A lot late.

You’d managed to send Benny a quick text to let him know, thankfully, but it meant that you were pulling into the parking lot for the little coffee shop more than a half hour late. Frantically, you leaned up to look at yourself in the rear view mirror, swiping some color on your lips and wishing that you’d thought of bringing more. You stripped your uniform shirt off and quickly emptied your pockets of anything too ridiculous.

It would have to do. 

Benny was already there, sitting outside and thumbing through his phone. You paused a moment and watched him, a smile tugging on your lips as you realized you’d never seen him in daylight. His hair wasn’t black, in the sun you could see the deep brown highlights in it. Jesus, he was handsome.

He stood when he saw you, rising to his feet and reaching to pull your chair out and you sank into it with a sigh and an apology already sprinting to your lips which he brushed off instantly.

"Don’t worry about it, I know as well as anyone how these shifts run over. Can I get you something?"

You gave him your order and busied yourself with your phone while he was gone, the early evening California sun finally cooling into something reasonable and not unbearably hot.

"Here ya go," he slid your cup over and you wrapped your fingers around the warm plastic. 

“I gotta warn ya,” he grimaced, “my boss isn’t too happy with how things went down today.”

“The big guy with the bad attitude?” you asked before snorting. “I don’t answer to him.”

“He’s gonna report you,” Benny continued.

“For saving a guy’s life?”

“For the other thing.” You must have looked confused and he made a vague gesture with his cup. “You know… the thing.”

“I do not know.”

“Last night.”

Brow furrowing, you raised one eyebrow at him. “He’s going to report me for the party with all the drugs? Your party?”

“Not my party,” he quickly demurred, “but… yeah. Probably not the drugs part but the other part.”

It clicked suddenly and your eyes widened. “You? He’s going to report… me and you?” His lips were a thin line and your heart sank. “You’re married.”

He blinked at you and then recoiled, “What? No.”

What else could it be, though? “Oh God, I slept with a married man. My mother is going to kill me.”

A hand grabbed at yours and he gripped you hard enough to draw your eyes to his. “I’m not married, sweetheart.”

“Then why would anyone care that we slept together?”

He worked his jaw, glancing around before leaning in closer. “The business part of it.”

Okay, you had no idea what was going on. “The hell are you talking about?”

“I know I didn’t pay you, but-”

“Pay me?” You burst out, “For-?”

Oh shit.

“You think I’m a hooker.”

It wasn’t a question and Benny’s eyes darted to the side before he answered. “I know you said you’d just started but-”

"I’m not," you swallowed, feeling your face heat up. "I’m not a… Jesus."

"Oh." He paused, staring over your shoulder. "Fuck."

“I mean I get it,” you rushed out, “I knew Monica got paid… I just thought. I mean, you and I, I thought we…” you trailed off as you looked at him. "I’m sorry… if that’s not what you wanted that’s okay. We can just forget-"

“Baby, when you said you don’t usually-”

“I said I don’t,” you corrected quickly.

“Do this sort of thing-” he trailed off suddenly, staring at you. “You telling me you really just stumbled into all that?”

Oh God, this was so fucking embarrassing. You looked anywhere but at him, trying to figure out how you could get out of the situation. “Yes.”

“Shit.”

This could not get any worse. “I should go.”

His hand was holding yours in an instant, his eyes intense, “Don’t do that. I fucked this up. Jesus… I really should have taken you somewhere nice."

A wide smile broke out on your face and you began to laugh. Benny’s eyes shot up to yours and after a moment you saw his lips pull into a smile as well. Then he was laughing too and you felt a bit of tension ease off of you.

"I should have guessed," you wheezed once you caught your breath. "I knew Monica was… an entrepreneur, I just thought you realized…”

"I shouldn’t have assumed," he butted in. 

"Benny," you replied with a scolding frown, but you could barely hold the expression from the laughter still bubbling past your lips. "How could you not?"

"Well," he took a sip of coffee and leaned back in his chair. "That outfit the first night should have been a dead giveaway."

You gasped dramatically. "How dare you, I looked great."

"You did," his eyes roamed over you for a moment and you felt suddenly warm. "You do."

Biting your lip you tried not to tug on your t-shirt. Or your cargo pants. Benny didn’t seem to notice, in fact he looked serious. More than that, he looked turned on. His tongue slowly licked along his lower lip, his eyes warm as they drifted down to your chest.

"Wait, if you weren’t there to make money, why’d you come back the second time?"

"I told you," you shrugged. "I went to find you."

Another one of those glances around - Benny seemed to always have an eye out on who might be watching - and then he slid into the chair closest to yours, a hand settling on your thigh. His face is so close you could see the flecks of amber in his eyes. 

“Keep saying things like that and I’ll start to think you like me.”

It was so easy to lean forward, to cross the small distance and kiss him. It was short, sweet even, and you saw his eyelashes flutter as you slowly pulled back. “Benny I-”

It’s like lightning, how quick he moved, one hand jerking at your thigh and the other cupping the back of your neck. He’s devouring you, his tongue thrusting inside until you’re moaning and wrapping your fingers into the edges of his shirt.

“Ahem.”

The impolite cough came from over your shoulder and Benny broke the kiss to glare at whoever had done it. You’re too stunned to speak, lips parted and panting breaths making you dizzy. When his eyes met yours again he leaned forward slightly before stopping himself with a rueful smile.

“Stop looking at me like that or I’m going to fuck you on this table.”

“Please?”

It was not what you meant to say but then again, it was exactly what you wanted. There’s a sharp scrape of chair legs and suddenly Benny is standing next to you, holding a hand out. “You coming?”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip. “Soon I hope.”

He growled and pulled you towards the parking lot, eyes scanning over the assembled vehicles. It was still broad daylight and you were curious if he really intended to take you in the backseat of some Prius.

Actually, there was no way Benny drove a Prius.

“I live about fifteen minutes away.” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it and making him look even hotter. “I know I should -”

You don’t let him finish the thought, squeezing his hand and fishing your phone out to the Maps app. “Where is it? I’ll follow.”

He rattled off the address quickly but seemed reluctant to let you go, cupping your cheek and giving you another one of those soul-stirring kisses before finally nodding and turning towards a beat up pickup.

Yeah, that made sense. And you may have made a mental note that it had a bench seat. It was just good information to keep track of.

His apartment was a shithole.

Benny had run at least two lights on his way back, eager to beat you and have some time to make the place presentable. A sweep of his arm got rid of an empty pizza box and assortment of beers into the trash. He alternately sorted clothes and junk into his hamper, shoving it into a closet just as there was a knock on the door. He glanced into the bathroom - putting the seat down - and then the bedroom which looked fine. 

It would have to do.

The door was only halfway open when you pushed your way inside and he had the presence of mind to shove it shut with one hand even as your lips found his. He had wondered if last night might have been a fluke - a little too much to drink and the sheer shock of seeing you again. But you were warm and soft and pliable beneath his palms even as you backed him up to his couch.

You settled into his lap, fingers drifting over his neck and he shuddered at the gentleness of it. Lips soft on his and he moaned, curling his fingers around your hips and tugging you closer. Your fingers were struggling with the buttons of his shirt and he let go of you just long enough to undo the bare minimum, pulling the cloth over his head and tossing it to the side. The next moment he had his t-shirt off too, shivering when your fingers sank into the whorls of hair on his chest.

“Benny,” you gasped and he snarled in return, gripping your neck so he could kiss you even deeper. Your t-shirt landed next to his and he undid your bra with a practiced flick of his fingers.

“Look at these tits,” he grunted, cupping them in his palms. With a low groan he dipped his head down, softly tonguing at the peaked flesh. You squeaked in return and he smiled, nibbling softly before moving to the other.

He almost missed your hands dipping between your bodies, pulling at his zipper and then those hot fingers were pressed to the cotton of his briefs. There was no fucking way he could miss that, and especially not when you stroked along his length until you found the slit you could slip inside and touch his bare skin.

“Take your pants off?”

He was nodding before you finished, setting you on your feet and toeing his boots off. You shimmied out of your own pants with a little hip wriggle that made the corners of his mouth turn up. Grey panties you probably got at Target. Nothing sexy about it at all, other than the fact that they were on you. They were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen there.

That was, the sexiest thing until you dropped to your knees between his thighs and put that hot little mouth on him.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, resisting the urge to grip at your hair. Lot of women didn’t like that and there was no way he was going to risk you stopping just yet. Your fingers tugged at his waistband and he lifted his hips to help out, hardly noticing they were still hanging on one ankle when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his stomach.

“You made me feel so good last night,” you murmured and he felt a shiver crawl down his spine. “I’ve been thinking all day about returning the favor.”

His mouth was dry, his eyes wide. You glanced up at him through long lashes, flashing a quick smile before taking the head of his cock in your mouth.

“Ah fuck,” he groaned again. Everything was soft and wet and he could barely think straight. You made a little moan of pleasure and it shot straight to his balls.

Benny had had his fair share of blowjobs in his life. Not as many as he might have liked, but a fair few. There’d even been a girl back in his twenties who could deep throat like a champ. No gag reflex at all. She was batshit crazy too, but he’d cared less about that at the time.

He’d had women suck him like a hoover in the front seat of his truck. On their knees in the shower while he held wet hair back for them. Sprawled on his bed on a Sunday morning while he drifted between sleep and wakefulness.

But not one of them had enjoyed it this much. Not one had made such pleased little noises, nuzzling against him and humming not for his pleasure, but because they couldn’t seem to help it.

“You like doing that?” he asked, trying to keep the note of incredulity out of his voice.

You released him with a pop, giving him a wide smile before biting your lower lip. “Is it too much?”

“Fuck no.” He wrapped a cautious hand behind your neck, thumb stroking under your ear. “It’s just right, baby.”

You let him pull you forward, mouthing at the head of his cock before taking it deep once more. Your fingers stroked along his thighs, thumbs rubbing across the sensitive flesh so softly it made him squirm. He let his head fall back, jaw hanging slack, enjoying the feel of your tongue cradling him.

But he wasn’t young anymore, and he’d be damned before he passed up another chance to fuck you.

With one hand he eased you away from him, taking a moment to get himself under control. You blinked up at him with another one of those worried expressions and he quickly pulled you back into his lap, cupping his hands around your jaw and diving in to taste you.

His bed felt a million miles away but he had promised you something nicer and he was going to fucking deliver on that. A gentle nudge had you on your feet and he followed, pulling you in for a kiss and guiding you backwards towards his room. There was a moment where you hit your hip on a door frame and he ran a soothing palm over it even as he reached out to flip the light.

“Get on the bed.”

It was a growl, low and deep and full of every drop of his own want. But you did as he said without question, crawling onto the flannel bedspread and giving him a sultry look over your shoulder.

“You coming?”

He took his time, studying the arch of your back while he slid open his bedside drawer. He flicked the condom onto the bed and then set his knee next to it, sliding a hand along your flank.

Smack.

You let out a startled yelp and he rubbed his fingers over where it must have stung. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You started to turn, sitting up, but he slid behind you - gripping your waist with one hand and reaching up to cup the base of your neck with the other. His cock nudged against your panties and even through the thin cotton he could feel how slick you were.

“You ready?” he asked with a low groan, watching as you arched your back and folded in front of him, head resting on your arms. 

“Fuck me Benny.”

No need to tell him twice. He ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling the condom on and then slipping your panties down. You helped him shimmy them off, resettling your knees wider as he pulled you back to him. He gave short, shallow thrusts against your heat. Not trying to slip inside, just feeling you coat him. On one he pressed up against your asshole and heard you squeak.

It was goddamn adorable.

“Maybe next time,” he murmured with a smirk, holding the base of his cock and lining himself up. You might’ve tried to answer but whatever it was turned into a long moan as he slid inside. 

It was sheer bliss, feeling you clench around him. He could feel every shuddering exhale from your body, every quiver. His head rolled back on his shoulders and he gripped at your waist as he fell into a rocking rhythm.

But it felt too impersonal, too distant. This position might be good for another time but he was still getting to know you, still learning all of the things that made you moan and squirm. He couldn’t tell from here, couldn’t see your face, couldn’t see how you reacted as he searched for what was going to make you come.

“C’mere,” he grunted, pulling at your shoulder and sitting back, settling you on his lap. From here he could rub his lips on your neck, tilt your head to the side and study your face while he fucked up inside of you.

“Benny,” you moaned, reaching one hand back and sinking it into his hair. He cupped your tits in his hands, thumbing at your nipples and watching as you bit into your lip hard enough to leave a mark.

“You gonna come like this?”

“I think-” you panted and he slid a hand down, delving between your thighs and finding your swollen clit. The sound you made went straight to his cock, thighs shaking and fingers tightening in his hair until it almost hurt.

“That’s it, sweetheart, chase it.”

You called his name when you came and he had to admit, he liked that part. Had liked it last night and even more tonight. He sank his teeth into your shoulder, pumping his hips and filling the condom with cum he’d much rather see dripping out of you.

Panting breaths came from you both, chests almost in sync. He nuzzled against your neck, tilting his head slightly until you finally loosened your grip on his hair.

“Good?” he asked, hiding a smile when you snorted in return.

“Passable, maybe we should give it another shot.”

With a grin he collapsed onto the bed next to you, pulling at your shoulders until you fell into his arms. He needed to get up, tie off the condom and see if he had a clean washcloth to offer you. But that could wait for later. Right now he had one itching mystery he hadn’t yet solved.

“I still don’t know your fucking name.”

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[thought-42]

It gets harder every year

Star Wars, 2050 words, Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger Luke has acquired a Mandalorian and is maybe panicking a little. It's fine. He nows a guy. Set in a universe where Ezra wound up in the Chiss Ascendancy post-Rebels and eventually he and Luke became like. Space internet friends. Don't worry about it. *

Luke Skywalker, pinnacle of Jedi calm and patience, only does four laps around the school while he waits for his comm signal to work its way through seven layers of encryption and a long string of relay nodes stretching across lightyears, vast and unknowable, between his current location and his target.

“No,” Laezra says as soon as he picks up. His little hologram is blurry and half a second out of sync with the audio, but Luke can still see the way his hair is flattened on one side and standing straight up on the other, and he's holding the comm in such a way that his (probably bare) chest is out of frame. There is, perhaps, a timezone issue Luke should have taken into account.

“You're so rude,” Luke says. “This could be an emergency.”

“Is it?”

“The point is that it could be. And you, my only peer, my only fellow Force user, you who stand in brotherhood with me against a harsh and uncaring universe–”

“Your sister exists and is literally a princess”

“What value does the royal title hold within the forced diaspora, really? Also the last time I asked if she wanted to meditate she threatened to tell someone I don't pay taxes.”

“That's an actual criminal crime, for the record. What kind of example are you setting for your students?”

“I have two students,” Luke says. “One of whom I'm related to. Besides, didn't you meet your master in the middle of a criminal crime?”

“It's not a crime if it pisses off the Empire,” Laezra says automatically, then, “Luke, please. I am so tired. There was a whole... thing. I haven't slept in my own bed for three weeks. My student had to use her lightsaber in actual combat for the first time. I had to side with my commanding officer against my mentor, even though the asshole was absolutely in the right, and I'm feeling some kinda way about it. Sometimes preemptive action is good, actually, but don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“Sorry,” says Luke. “Is she ok? Your student, I mean.” Laezra still refuses to tell Luke the name of his or his fellow Navigator Jedi's student, and wierd trust issues aside, it makes conversation grammatically difficult sometimes.

“Yeah. We're ok. We were both doing twelve hour shifts on the way home, though, because I guess ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ doesn’t mean ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ when the ship’s actual Sky Walker is made of germs and fever and barf. Then it becomes ‘jump-by-jump is so inefficient, this information is so critical, everybody’s so tired. Have you ever had the experience of getting nosebleed blood crusted in your beard? BecauseI don’t recommend it.”

Between Leia and Laezra, Luke knows enough classified information to sink two major governments. Or at least inconvenience them a lot. 

"Ok, ok, ok," Luke decides he's going to sit down on the grass,and only realises it’s still wet from the afternoon rainstorm once his pants are already soaked. “So. Listen. You know things.”

“Wild,” Laezra says flatly. “Is this how you write report cards at your school?”

Luke glares down at the little hologram. “You know things about Mandalorians,” he clarifies. He decides he's gonna stand back up, and while he's at it he may as well do a few more laps.

“I-- Luke. Luke you can't tell me I'm the only person you know who knows a Mandalorian. Who I am, just so we're super clear, still on pretty shaky footing with, given my whole... everything.”

Luke waves this off. He is very over Laezra having fucked off on actual Purrgils, never to return, less than a year before Luke discovered he was a space wizard and could have really desperately used some support in that from someone who wasn't a hundred years old and a friend of his father's. It's so fine. He definitely doesn't lie awake imagining being one half of a pair of Jedi, back when the Rebellion had felt huge and overwhelming and kind of terrifying. Some people blow up a massive space station/doomsday weapon full of living beings (twice) and hold their evil dad in their arms while he dies. Some people ride away in a burst of martyrdom on their bffs the legendary space whales. Some people live alone but for two little kids in the ruins of a temple that they call a school, desperately trying to rebuild an entire religious and cultural institution from barely legible texts and ghosts. Some people live in another galaxy and embark on exciting new projects for an alien government where they get to research brand new Force techniques and go on adventures and live in an apartment where they can just walk across the street and buy fresh pastries whenever they want to.

Jedi do not feel envy. Jedi do not feel resentment. Jedi are always well aware that the grass is perpetually greener.

“I have a Mandalorian now,” Luke says, instead of any of this.

“Like, you... have obtained one? Are you feeding them? They need so much exercise, I cannot emphasise this enough.”

Luke puts his comm on the ground so he can drop his face into his hands. “He gave me? His kid? But also I think he's the king of the Mandalorians, and he keeps stopping by for visits, and I don't want to mess up.”

“This is so much,” Laezra says. “This is so much. Luke Skywalker, are you crushing on the Mand’alor?”

“Calling you was a mistake,” Luke says.

“Calling me was the opposite of a mistake, oh my God. What House? What Clan? I ask like the answer will mean anything to me, but like..... it might.”

“His name's Din,” Luke says. “I don't know if I'm supposed to tell people that.”

“And have you and Din..... you know?”

“He doesn't take his helmet off,” Luke says, helplessly. “Except once, and I think that was... not ideal. For him.”

“But was it ideal for you– sorry, sorry. Ok. Was he an Academy kid?”

“I don't think so,” Luke says. “He barely knew anything about the war. He didn't know who I was. He has a lightsaber that he really doesn't want to have, though.”

“Wait. Wait. So he's like.... the real deal. You're having sexy parent/teacher interviews with the legit Mand’alor.”

“I'm not having sexy anything with anybody,” Luke says.

“That's so sad, my guy. But hey, keep on trucking. I bet you can seduce him with your farmboy charms.”

“His son eats frogs,” says Luke. “I caught him a whole bucket full to take with him last time Din came to take him on a trip.”

“You just. ...handed the Mand’alor a bucket of frogs and his kid? ‘Have a good time, gang!’ You’re my very favourite little guy, Luke.”

“I think most of them escaped inside his ship,” Luke admits. “Which, actually, let me tell you about his kriffing ship–”

“Why am I perpetually surrounded by pilots? Luke, look at me. Look me in the eye. I don't care about his ship. Tell me about his cute kid or his dick or the actual ass Darksaber. Do not tell me about his ship.”

“It's very bad, though. It’s a bad ship and he should feel bad about it, he lets his child ride around in it, and I know for a fact his fuel injectors were recalled–”

“So were you hoping I'd... know the Mando dating cheat codes, or something?” Laezra says loudly.

Luke frowns. “I want to get to know him as a person. I'm his son's teacher. It'd be inappropriate for me to ... do anything. I'm just hoping I can maybe be a bit more culturally sensitive.”

Luke's only ever seen one propper, full-colour picture of Laezra that isn't a blue light holocall; there’s a holo on General Syndulla’s desk of a grinning teenager, limbs gawky and eyes that reminded Luke of the feral tookas he was never allowed to take home during trips into town as a kid. Even so, it's easy for Luke to picture the other man sitting in the dark of his bedroom, shoving his hands back through his hair as he groans. Luke wonders if he's the kind of person who needs to have everything unpacked and in its place when he comes home from a mission, or if he's more the 'dump bag and clothes on floor, fall face first onto nearest flat surface' type. It's probably a weird thing to wonder, but it's the sort of thing Luke knows about all his other friends.

“Ok. Luke.” He drops his hands from his hair and leans in close to his comm, so the top half of his face is all Luke sees, weird and disproportionate as the camera tries to compensate. “I bet you've probably been reading a bunch of old Jedi books or scrolls or cave paintings about the danger of attachment. Maybe your ghosts have lectured you. But that's what they are. Ghosts and old writings. You're starting something new. And-- Kanan. My Master. He loved somebody very much, and she loved him back. And he was the best Jedi I can imagine.”

“You can just say it was General Syndulla,” says Luke, who has only ever seen one mention of attachments in the documents he’s recovered, but doesn’t want to devalue what Laezra is trying to tell him.

“Ok, yeah. They loved each other so much, and I never once saw it interfere with Kanan’s dedication to helping others. To making the galaxy a safer, kinder place. If anything I think she made him better. And vice-versa.”

“I just meant,” Luke says carefully, “that I wouldn't want to risk things not working out and Din not wanting to leave his son here anymore. There's nobody else who will train him. But I’ll keep the other stuff in mind.”

“I have so many things I definitely  don't actually want to say to Ahsoka,” Laezra mutters. “But oh boy am I thinking them.”

Luke presses his lips together. He doesn't know if Laezra knows who Vader was when he was a Jedi. Doesn't know if it'd mean anything to him even if he did know. “She's got some pretty compelling reasons for the choices she makes, he says. "I don’t agree with her, but… I mean. Anybody can become dangerous if attachment gets possessive, but you've gotta admit Force users are especially risky.”

“People just keep making bigger guns,” Laezra points out. “How are they any less dangerous?”

“A gun can't get inside your head and change how you feel. It can't make you do things you wouldn't normally do.”

“Ahahaha,” says Laezra, and his hands go back over his face as he leans away from the camera. “You don't need The Force for that one, either.”

Luke winces. “Anyway,” he says, because he knows most people don't actually want to talk about their feelings, even if that seems super counter-intuitive. Whatever. “How do I become friends with the Mand'alor?”

“You keep saying it and it doesn't get any less unhinged. I don't know. You're already taking care of his kid, and you value family. You're highly skilled in combat. There's really no secret trick to it, just... be a person.”

“I've tried that,” Luke says. “I'm so bad at being a person around him though.”

“Does he like art?” Laezra asks, with a sudden burst of gleeful intensity. “Luke does he like art, this is important. I can tell you so much about art. Do you want to know which chemical combinations are the best for neon colours and also timed explosions? Do you want to know about historical graffiti culture throughout the Outer Rim? Do you want to know how to use the remaining art from the various Mandalorian factions to construct a sociopolitical thesis on their people with a focus on military tactics?”

“You know what," says Luke, "I think I hear the kids calling me.”

“Coward,” Laezra says immediately

“Go back to bed; say hi to your student for me; may The Force be with you bye.”

Laezra is still swearing at him, laughing,when Luke clicks the channel closed.

Luke, with all the dignity befitting the last Jedi Master, opens his notebook and writes 'Ask if he likes art.'

[pinkykats-place]

BKDK Mermaid AU Mer Bakugo x Human Deku Ⅱ

AO3 NSFW Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked below are mine.

All contain mature content. Read tags.

Art work is not mine.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

A Salty Distraction by Viridian_Sunset

Summary: Deku has a shitty day at work and finds comfort in his mermaid friend.

{One Shot}

Rated - Explicit

One Fish, Two Fish, Half Fish, Marine Biologist by RandomFandoms65000

Summary: Izuku was ten years old when he met Katsuki aka a merman that the aquarium called Dynamight. As Izuku aged the merman never left the back of his mind it was one of the reason why he decided to become a marine biologist. He not only wanted to because of his love for salt and fresh water creatures, but to study Katsuki's species. Merfolk were rare and well the more they talked the more Izuku fell in love with the merman. Maybe he had always loved him.

Complete | 20 Chapters

Rated - Mature

Specks of Gold Against the Ocean's Waves by Serah_chan

Summary: While enjoying the light of the full moon, Katsuki Bakugou, an orange tailed merman, crosses paths with a handsome surfer with freckle littered cheeks. While he's not supposed to interact with the human, there's something about them that draws the merman to get close and ignore all boundaries.

“Huh, he’s kinda good looking for a human.” Katsuki muses, feeling the annoying itch of curiosity push him towards getting a better look. He wonders if he can observe him from down below as he takes on the waves, catch glimpses of him as he falls back to the water. Human eyes weren’t exactly the best anyway, so he shouldn’t have to worry about being seen... right?

Complete | 19 Chapters 

Rated - Mature

I’ve Got You, Stupid Human by GreenEyesSublime

Summary: The mysterious man swam the last few feet to the rock. Putting his hands up on the edge, he hauled himself out of the water with a flourish. Izuku watched in awe as first a toned, muscled chest emerged from the water and then a tight pack of abs followed by a dangerously sharp v-cut pointing downwards towards a...tail?!

— — —

Or, human!Izuku has been cleaning the beach for weeks and merman!Katsuki is tired of just watching. 

{One Shot}

Rated - Explicit

A Salty First Kiss by DarkMachi, Iwacakes

Summary: Izuku Midoriya's family beach trip went awry when an attempted act of heroism lets to an unexpected first.

Jumpcut to twelve years later: Izuku was struggling to stay afloat when his stepfather threw him a chance. What was meant to be a reprieve turned into something else entirely when he finds someone washed onto the beach. A memory he should have buried long ago, a kiss he could never forget, and a debt he could now repay.

Or.

What do you do when you have an angry Merman in your bathtub that speaks a different language?

Or.

What do you do when a stoopid hooman rescues you and then proceeds to start courting with you?

Complete | 101 CH | Contains Smut

Wavelength by gardengalaxy

Summary: Izuku practices surfing away from prying eyes, knowing he will have lots of attention on competition day. But what if he's already caught someone's interest?

One Shot | Trans Deku 

Rated - Explicit

A Breathless Song by chibicharlie95

Summary: Izuku loves the sea, so much so that he can never seem to part with it... But will he become a part of it? A siren's song in the middle of a storm may help him to find the answer.

One Shot | NSFW

what the water gave me by twinstarsies

Summary: "It's like I'm challenging fate," he says to a hermit crab he finds tucked into a crevice in the rock. "I'm daring it to knock me into the water just to show me who's boss. At this rate, it's probably going to win." 

"Something's gonna knock you into the water, alright, but it won't be anything as nebulous as fate," a voice says, tone wholly unamused. 

Izuku startles so hard that he forgets to use his quirk to catch himself as he slips from his perch on the rock into the ocean. 

— — —

Izuku goes on a forced vacation and meets the love of his life.

Complete | 2 Chapters

Contains Smut | Trans Midoriya

Call of the Siren by Gemsom

Summary: Izuku always imagined that sirens sang their victims into the water, and that their helpless victims could do nothing to resist. He almost wished that was the case.

Every time his captain’s ship crossed the narrow sea, Katsuki came to see him. The siren's friendship seemed so genuine, but Izuku was smart enough to know that the creature was sweet talking him to his death. Katsuki never denied it either - asking over and over for Izuku to offer his life.

Of course, Izuku had no way of knowing that the siren planed to give him a new one in return.

Incomplete | 9/18 Chapters | NSFW

Last Updated Jan. 2023

[star-going-supernova]

Gregory meets another kid that escaped from Vanny the night before, but didn't try to escape due to getting injured. and now the two must help each other escape, along with the help of Freddy along the way. The kid's also a girl, because something something platonic friendship.

This one’s tumblr generated prompt number 5! I’m on a roll with these things, haha! This one was cute and was submitted pre Ruin teaser, so I just want to make it clear that this isn’t related or my take on what Ruin will be like. 

Take Her Out at the Kneecaps

Gregory found Kaitlyn in the basement, tucked deep enough behind some spare foam blocks that the endos wouldn’t be able to find her easily. He’d managed to shake his freaky pursuers for the moment, so he ducked down into the tiny crawlspace she was in. 

It was a miracle he’d seen her at all. But her shirt was covered in rhinestones, and his flashlight had hit them just right, creating a sparkly glare that had been painfully out of place down here. 

She’d been asleep when he joined her, startling awake with such a look of fear but a learned silence. Her ankle, she’d explained, once they’d both calmed down and introduced themselves, hurt too much for her to stand on it. He was no doctor—duh, he was only twelve—but he knew ankles weren’t supposed to be red and hot and swollen like that. 

An endo had grabbed her there while she’d been running away from the bunny. It squeezed until she felt something pop or maybe crack. Adrenaline carried her to safety, but no farther. 

“It was on Friday,” she whispered, huddled into herself. “My sister’s birthday party.” 

Gregory swallowed, fiddling with his flashlight. “It’s Sunday by now.” He checked his watch. “Two in the morning.” 

Nine-year-old Kaitlyn’s chin wobbled. “I don’t wanna die,” she hiccuped. 

He’d been existing somewhere between annoyed and scared—scared enough to be cautious but not terrified enough to be useless—throughout the night so far. Being hunted would probably be a lot more terrifying if his opponents were competent and did more than inefficiently wander until they spotted him. It’d been almost like a game, outwitting them at every turn and finding progressively more ways to cause problems. 

But now, now he was angry. It hadn’t really occurred to him that maybe he wasn’t the first. And Kaitlyn was trembling and looked so tired and she’d been trapped down here for over a day. Between the countless endos and the knife-wielding bunny, who had probably searched for her, no wonder she was scared for her life.

“You’re not gonna die,” he told her, determined. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?” 

He slid out of their hiding place, and she hesitantly followed. Working together, Gregory picked her up piggyback style. “You can hold the flashlight,” he told her, keeping his arms locked against her knees. “We just need to leave the basement. Then Freddy can help us.” 

“Freddy’s nice?”

“Yeah.” He kept his head swiveling, looking for telltale red glowing eyes. “But only Freddy. The others are all working with the bunny.” 

“She said she had a surprise for me,” Kaitlyn said miserably. “But it’s so creepy down here and I wanted to go back upstairs but she said no.” 

“Did she hurt you?” 

He felt her shake her head. “I kicked her knee.” 

That explained Vanessa’s mild limping, heh. “Nice one. You’re a pretty brave kid.” 

She squeaked, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. “’M not,” she mumbled, muffled. 

“Yeah, you are! I wish I was brave enough to kick the bunny, but I just keep running away.” 

Kaitlyn giggled. “We can, we can kick her together.” 

Gregory grinned, hastening his steps when he spotted the staircase. “Oh, now that’s a great plan! You kick one side, I’ll kick the other. We’ll take her out at the kneecaps, then she can’t chase us or anything.” 

Kaitlyn kept giggling as he hurried up the stairs, ignoring the ache in his back from carrying a kid for so long. Thank goodness she was on the smaller side. He sighed in relief as they emerged into the ground floor of the pizzaplex. Give him the dumb STAFF bots over the endos any day. 

“Thanks for finding me, Gregory,” Kaitlyn said as he pressed his summon Freddy button. “I didn’t like it in the basement.” 

“Yeah, me neither.” 

By the time Freddy found them in the kids theater, Gregory was nearly done braiding Kaitlyn’s long black hair, which she’d been complaining about getting in her face. 

“Hi,” she said, waving at Freddy as he slowed in confusion. 

“Hello,” he greeted her. “I do not believe we have met. I am Freddy.” 

“I know! I’m Kaitlyn, and I was stuck in the basement.” 

“Oh,” Freddy said, and Gregory definitely wasn’t imagining the dark tone in his voice. “I am glad you are not stuck there anymore, Kaitlyn.” 

“Hey, you got any hair ties, Freddy?” Gregory butted in.

One of the many secret compartments that were part of Freddy’s body popped open—this one on the side of his left thigh. He pulled out a sparkly purple hair tie and passed it over. 

“That is a very nice braid, Gregory.” 

He tied it off, and Kaitlyn gave her head a shake, laughing when it whipped around her, nearly smacking Gregory’s face. “Thanks,” he said, standing. He helped Kaitlyn up and promptly passed her to a bewildered Freddy. 

“Gregory said it’s your turn to carry me now because my ankle’s busted,” she told him, patting his chest.

Freddy gave a little start before scanning her, making a distressed noise at what he found. “You are in need of medical attention!” 

“Which we can’t get her to until six,” Gregory reminded him. His anger simmered lowly, but he reined it in. His previous goal of making his entrapment everyone else’s problem wouldn’t be safe for a little girl who couldn’t run, and he wasn’t stupid enough to tempt fate without Freddy to help him out. It was time to hunker down until morning. “Where’s a safe place we can wait? Somewhere the others won’t think to look.” 

Leading the way out of the theater, Freddy hummed in thought. “My green room,” he decided. “The others would not think to check there, and since I am supposed to be on lockdown anyway, Officer Vanessa will likely assume I have returned as she ordered. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say.” 

Kaitlyn yawned, resting her head on Freddy’s shoulder. “Are you gonna protect us, Freddy?” 

“I will do everything I can to keep you safe, Kaitlyn.” He reached out with his free hand and raised an expectant eyebrow at Gregory until he rolled his eyes and held his hand. “Both of you,” Freddy promised.

[zutraeumen]

The Second Course

Darkness fell. The restaurant, bay windows aglow with warm light from afar. Out here, amidst the water and trees, all was quiet save for the lonesome, distant call of a loon.

Adele was actually prepared for the next clap! of hands from the Chef, you would never catch her unprepared twice!

"Is he gonna keep doing that?" 

I fear so dear Margot.

This time, he didn't even wait for his customer's attention as he began another fancy monologue, "Bread has existed in some form for over twelve thousand years. Especially amongst the poor. Flour and water, what could be simpler? Even today, grain represents 65% of all agriculture. Fruits and vegetables? Only 6%. Ancient Greek peasants dipped their stale, measly bread and wine for breakfast. And how did Jesus teach us to pray if not to beg for 'our daily bread'? It is and always has been the food of the common man. But you, my dear guests, are not the common man. So tonight... you get no bread."

Now THAT was how you politely say 'fuck you' to the rich kids.

That was a devilishly wicked move and she loved it.

"He must be joking..."

"What?"

"It's gotta be a bit... wait, are you fucking serious?"

The worst part was, they still thought it was all in jest; a prank. Oh, how wrong the Chef proved them with his next words, "In this spirit, please enjoy the unaccompanied accompaniments."

Oh, this was better entertainment than South Park. 

Watching them looking incredulously at their plates and not even realizing the Chef had just made fun of them. The level of pretentiousness and obliviousness was best described in Tyler's words as 'next level'.

The plate itself and the small accompaniments resembled a painting pallet painters used for their colours, and instead of bread was a note that read: The bread you will not be eating tonight was made from a heritage wheat called red fife, crafted with our partners at the Tehachapi Grain Project, devoted to preserving heirloom grains.

Slipping a chewing gum secretly into her mouth, the amount of chatter doubled significantly at the outrageous course of events and her amusement rose to such an extent that she could almost forget that the Chef wanted to kill her. 

"This is insane," Felicity let the paper fall from her hands with a shake of her head.

"Hmmm... because the shit around the total absence of the bread is like, really good."

How could someone enjoy savoury oils and emulsions on their own when they couldn't stand without bread? George could, and Tyler as well, but he insisted it was part of a greater theme nobody of them could grasp. 

Strange of him to say that, it was almost as if he knew something the others didn't. But hey, this was Tyler we were talking about, he was the type who probably knew how Slowik liked his coffee in the morning.  

"I mean it's a little outrageous, isn't it?"

The blonde food critic leant back against her seat, "That's fiendish really. I mean he- he's always been keenly aware of food and its history of class I mean, as have I..."

"-Sure." Somebody shoot that sycophant in the head.

"... though I will say," she picked up her glasses once again, "that this emulsion does look slightly split."

At this point, the assassin wouldn't take anything seriously from that woman. That food critic was a joke. A woman insatiable, and so full of herself she had to criticize something to appease her own ego; as the one food critic who had discovered and later re-discovered the famous Julian Slowik.

What a bitch.

Madam Elsa thought so too, because it was only seconds before she abandoned her temporary post next to one of the hearths to put a whole ass bucket of orange, 'broken' emulsion in front of her, the very same one she had complained so viciously about. She looked so positively shocked that she couldn't even do anything else but take the L and push out a strained smile. 

"Um, excuse me." 

Madam Elsa was beckoned by Bryce to the larger table where the finance bros sat, "Is everything to your liking, sir?"

"Um, well, actually no, thanks for asking. I mean look, the food's great and we totally get the conceptual stuff but can we please get a little bread? Some gluten-free for my friend as well?"

"No."

Shit's about to get real. 

"No?" Bryce replied, surprised.

Madam Elsa dropped the friendly facade and levelled him with a gaze that very much told him she would not budge no matter how many times he asked.

At the shock of being denied twice in a row, the table shared a round of exasperated glances before Bryan found his voice again, "This is all very clever, and I didn't wanna pull this card, but you know who we are, right?"

Oldest trick in the book.

"Yes."

"You do? You know who we are?" Soren joined in, looking patronisingly at the lady butler. 

The maître d' continued to speak politely, as if she was speaking to children, "I know who you are."

Soren let out an irritatingly childish noise of disbelief from his tight-lipped mouth that further proved what a man-child he truly was.

"You know we work with Doug Varrick, right?"

"No, you work for Mr Varrick." The viper struck again. Yikes.

"Exactly so you know we all play on the same team so just, slip us a little bread, please."

"We won't tell a soul lady, I promise."

Their nerve was astounding. Entitlement at its finest. There was no way in hell they were getting what they wanted.

"No."

"Did you say no?"

"I said 'no', yes."

The tension deflated as they gave up, receding in their seats with equal expressions of undignified rejection. Adele smirked in triumph, served them right! But then the lady butler whispered something into Soren's ear and the man had gone paler than a white sheet in the matter of second. 

Adele would have paid money to know what Madam Elsa might have said to him. 

The Chef until then, presided over the kitchen with a downright menacing gaze, surveying both staff and customers until a loud, unexpected noise popped the bubble in the restaurant.

A glass was shattered and Slowik was onto it like a panther in waiting.

"You haven't touched your food." The Chef remarked to Margot, eyes devoid of passion. Where had that subtle malice gone?

"There is no food."

Hit the nail right on the head.

"No, this is food."

And then the chatter renewed and now there was no way she could continue listening in any more than that. Looking around to see if anybody would notice, Adele watched on as they talked and boy did it seem like Margot was telling him off. Tyler visibly fidgeted in his seat, mortified that he had somehow offended his idol.

Then a truly dour expression took over Chef's taut face, He half-smiled and half-grimaced. No one talked to him like this. Then he walked away. Tyler looked sick.

Adele had said it before and she would say it again, that woman had some guts to tell that to the head chef, even when she wholeheartedly agreed. The courses were horrendously empty of proper food and filled with superficial words that soured the mood to eat altogether.

And Adele was likely to get poisoned if she ever listened to her stomach- WHAT THE HELL WAS HE DOING HERE?!

The Chef suddenly stopped at her own table. Alarmed, she thought he would confront Adele the same way he did with Margot but he did no such thing. The patrician with clean-shaven cheeks, and trimmed brown hair completely disregarded her presence and gently lowered his forehead onto the madam's sitting with her. 

There was warmth, there was true affection in this act, but even such raw moments were over in but a fraction of a moment if one blinked too many times, and soon the Chef was back marching into the kitchen, overseeing the preparation of the next course.

"I want plating in three, my friends!"

"Yes, Chef!"

[waitingforwinterwinds]

Game of Thrones - 66 BRAN VII (pages 705-715)

Bran and Rickon dream their father is dead. Maester Luwin plays catch up after dropping some World Lore.

-

"They don't fight very well," Bran said Dubiously. ... "For a certainty," Maester Luwin agreed with a deep sigh. (...) "Yet given time... Ser Rodrik has the truth of it, we need men to walk the walls. Your lord father took the cream of his guard to King's Landing, and your brother took the rest, along with all the likely lads for leagues around. Many will not come back to us, and we must needs find the men to take their place."

I like that GRRM addresses the consequences of these things, often in a fantasy series, it feels like there's just always more able bodied men ready to go, or there's a borrowed-from-a-friend-down-the-road army waiting in the wings.

"I dreamed about the crow again last night. The one with three eyes. He flew into my bedchamber and told me to come with him, so I did. We went down into the crypts. Father was there, and we talked. He was sad." "And why was that?" Luwin peered through his tube. "It was something to do about Jon, I think." The dream had been deeply disturbing, more so than any of the other crow dreams.

"Hi dad, what are you doing down here? You seem bummed, what's up?" "UwU I died and now I'll never be able to tell Jon that he's actually my nephew." "Bummer." "It's my only piece of unfinished business, I have no other children to be sad about." "Wait, what?" "Goodbye forever."

"- Your father is a prisoner of the queen in King's Landing. You will not find him in the crypts."

Oh no, Luwin doesn't know about the last chapter.

Bran could not remember the last time he had been down in the crypts. It had been before, for certain. When he was little, he used to play down here with Robb and Jon and his sisters.

Huh, he says that like they managed to get Sansa to go back down after Jon scared the heck out of her that one time in Arya's memory.

"Have a look at these," he said as he pulled the stopper and shook out a handful of shiny black arrowheads. Bran picked one up. "It's made of glass." Curious, Rickon drifted closer to peer over the table. "Dragonglass," Osha named it as she sat down beside Luwin, bandagings in hand. "Obsidian," Maester Luwin insisted, holding out his wounded arm. "Forged in the fires of the gods, far below the earth. The children of the forest hunted with that, thousands of years ago. The children worked no metal. (...) In place of swords, they carried blades of obsidian." "They still do."

Obsidian/Dragonglass = 🥛

I'm interested to hear 'forged in the fires of the gods, far below the earth' just from an elemental standpoint, knowing that it is one of the weaknesses of the Others. 'of the gods' to me, assigns obsidian not only a fire/earth combo, but also a divine aspect/attribute. It's probably just so much flavour text, but you know, interesting flavour text in context.

"- How long the children reigned here or where they came from, no man can know. "But some twelve thousand years ago, the First Men appeared from the east, crossing the Broken Arm of Dorne before it was broken. (...) The wars went on until the earth ran red with blood of men and children both, but more children then men, for men were bigger and stronger, and wood and stone and obsidian make a poor match for bronze. Finally, the wise of both races prevailed, and the chiefs and heroes of the First Men met the greenseers and wood dancers amidst the weirwood groves of a small island in the great lake called Gods Eye. "There they forged the Pact. (...) The Pact began four thousand years of friendship between men and children."

A good method to expo dump if you're gonna do it. Ooph but it gives me the shivers. All that history, and there's still more and further back. Ignorance and self defense, culture clash that tumbled straight into aggression and then... peace that couldn't last against new players.

Man, I sure hope that's not foreshadowing for anything. Two sides in conflict finally finding a stable truce, and then being pounded by a surprise third party who devastates at least one side in the pre-existing peace treaty. That sure would suck.

[iheartgracie]

foolish hearts funny claudia quotes

“We all know magenta is not pink, right?” She looks to me. “Right?”

“Abso-tootin-lutely!” I declare loudly, because I am a moron.”

“But Paige Breckner just took the cake in the breakup department. I want you to be better than you are. If I were Iris, I would’ve disintegrated on the spot.”

“We heard your phone,” Paige says.

“How do you know it wasn’t your phone?” I reply. Because. I am. A moron.”

“I didn’t know anyone was out here. I didn’t hear anything,” I say, even though it’s a lie compounded by another lie.

The silence is unbearable.

So I do what I do best, or what I do worst, I suppose—my greatest strength is also my greatest weakness. I break it.

“I had the faucet on,” I say. “Really loud. And I pee pretty loud. I’m surprised you guys didn’t hear me, it was like Niagara Falls in here. Just really … very loud in volume. A lot of … liquids … flowing in a … noisy fashion.”

“I don’t think that’s right,” I said to my manager Aaron on my first day. “Because Subway subs are twelve inches? So really it’s only seventy-five percent of a Subway sub?”

“They mean the six-inch,” he replied.

“So maybe they should say that?”

“It’s the worst. It is literally the worst. I’m a cog in the world’s dumbest corporate sandwich machine. But I needed a job. And Pinky’s was hiring. So here I am.”

“There was a lot of talk of this year being our year.”

“Who did all the other years belong to?”

“Right? I asked Madison that. She looked at me like I was crazy.”

“Too bad she can’t buy a sense of humor.”

“I’d sell her mine.”

“So many girls would be so happy for a chance to go to Prospect.”

“Then one of them should go for me,”

“Oh, this is Claudia,” Caris says.

“Third wheel extraordinaire,”

“Who still needs a partner?”

Time to accept my fate. I raise my hand.”

“I don’t hate anyone.”

“Not even Voldemort?”

“I mean, yes, obviously. But I don’t—”

“Are you hiding from somebody?”

I swallow. “Yes,” I say. “Death. That’s why you scared me. I thought it was the grim reaper sneaking up on me.”

“Well, you’ve got Oberon locked down.”

“Maybe you’ll be my queen,” he says, leaning in a little and wiggling his eyebrows.

“I mean, probably not. If there’s like … a nonspeaking role for a tree or something, that’ll probably be me.”

“What are you doing?” I finish off the creature.

“Sorry, Mark just got home.” I hear muffled conversation and then “He says hi.”

“Tell him I don’t say hi back. Tell him I respond with stony silence.”

“Gotta go. Have fun Shakespeare-ing.”

“I’ll try. Hey, if you’re mean to me, I’m gonna send Mark a list of names from this play. You could have a little baby Oberon or Hippolyta.”

“Oh geez. Don’t you dare.”

“Bet you wish you saved some of those vetoes.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I mean, yeah, it kind of goes against my usual thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know. Where I’m not really, like … active in that way.”

My mom gave me a look. “Sexually?”

“Agh! God! No! Socially. Socially active.”

“Do not take your eyes off the climber, the surprisingly stern college kid who trained us had said. Do not get distracted. Do not take your hands off the rope. Do not lose focus”

“Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars,”

“I hate everything about this.”

“Iris, you haven’t even climbed as high as you are tall.”

“Let me down. Now.”

“You could literally just step off the wall.”

“Hey, do you know Jacob Dolby?” he says like he’s going to introduce us, but there’s no Jacob Dolby in sight.

I shake my head.

“He’s having a party tomorrow night.”

“Good for him.”

“Do you want me to drop you off?”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m not a terrible person?”

She looks at me for a moment and then lowers her phone.

“Fine. You can drive me.”

“Really? Thank you. How gracious. What a privilege.”

“Do you need my address for the GPS?” she asks, following me to my car.

“Hate to break it to you, but 2004 Toyota Corollas don’t come standard with GPS. You’re gonna have to Google-Map that shit for me. Think you can manage?”

“I didn’t … fuck up on purpose.”

“Wait, so you were for real?” Iris just blinks at me. “You making faces in the dining hall before auditions. That was … you acting?”

“What can I say. We’re not all talented enough to be Magic Fairy Number Five.”

“Hey, I’m First Fairy. It’s a named character. I have lines.”

“Oh geez, let me get the Tony nominators on the phone.”

“Not everything I think is malicious.”

“What would a pie chart of your malicious to non-malicious thoughts look like? How big a piece of the pie is non-malicious?”

“What did you do today?”

“Sorry?”

“That has you so wiped.”

“Oh. You know. Saturday stuff.”

“What’s Saturday stuff? Typical Saturday for Claudia Wallace.”

“I ran a 5K,” I say.

“Really.” He says it like he might believe me, so I go on.

“Actually, I ran twelve 5Ks. Basically a 60K. And then I fought like seven bears. So. You know, I’m pretty beat.”

“Seven bears. All at once?”

“No, three and then four.”

“That’s impressive. I’ve only ever fought seven bears tournament-style.”

“I’m not saying it was easy. That’s … that’s why I’m so tired.”

“Claudia Wallace, you’re not even a little bit curious about my mixtape?”

“I’m like sixty-five percent sure you don’t have one.”

“It’s called Gideon Prewitt: Getting Improvement.”

“Agh, God, why?”

“Because it sounds cool.”

“Getting Improvement? What does that even mean?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, it just has to strike a chord with people.”

“I’m now eighty percent sure this mixtape doesn’t exist.”

“But I know you didn’t go to Morningbrook with us, I definitely would’ve remembered.”

“Maybe I had a face transplant.”

“Maybe you did. But I also feel like I would’ve remembered if someone in my class in middle school got a face transplant.”

“It was the summer between eighth and ninth grade. I kept a low profile afterward.”

“What did you look like before?”

“Better,” I say. “I had a rare condition. The doctors said I was too attractive. It was detrimental to my health and also society. So they gave me this face instead. For the greater good.”

“That was an SAT word.”

“I know. Do you want me to congratulate you for using it?”

“Is he really your favorite?”

“I don’t know. It might be some kind of subconscious conditioning, since his face is literally all over the room, and, you know, he just watched me pee and everything.”

“Not that I was pathologically afraid of crotches. I just … like to know a person before I measure from the crotch to the back of the heel where I want the pants to end.”

“I’m the funniest person I know,” he declares. “Except for you. You’re funnier than me.”

“That’s not saying much, because you’re not funny at all,”

“I don’t want to bond. I specifically want to not bond. What’s the opposite of bond?”

“Alienate?”

“I want to alienate.”

“Well, you’re pretty good at it.”

“Smooth job answering a question with a question by the way. Super ninja deflecting skills.”

“I’m a level fifty deflector,” I reply.

“Out of how many levels?”

“How many levels do you think?”

“Deflected!”

“Why would you bring Iris on a double date? Who does that?”

“This isn’t a double date.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.”

“You said it was a group thing! ‘Group thing’ does not mean ‘double date’!”

“Well, it was implied.”

“You should have said the words ‘double date’!”

“Are you ready to put the ‘fun’ in Fall Fun Fest?” he says as I slap his palm.

“I can at least put the ‘trip’ in ‘Triple F.’” A pause. “By being clumsy, I mean. Not by, like, sharing drugs with the group.” Three sets of eyes are on me, and I can’t stop myself from talking. “I don’t have any drugs. In case you were worried. Or, in case you were … expecting me to have drugs.…”

“If it makes you feel any better, you were right about her being scared. It kind of backfired though, because she seems, like, pathologically afraid of this whole situation.”

“Anyway, I left as fast as I could. It was Jackie Casella’s house. Have you ever been there?”

“No.”

“It’s in the French Palladian style. Way too ostentatious if you ask me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I design my chateau.”

“Is it weird,” Zoe asked once, “that she’s going to be a grandma but she’s also still your mom?”

“I think a lot of grandmas are also still moms?” I replied.”

“What if she loves the new grandbaby more than you?” Zoe said with a grin.

“Oh, she definitely will. I’ve accepted that.”

“Did you, like, read a book on gaming?” I say.

“I read the Internet. It told me all about it.”

“You read the entire Internet?”

“I hope everything’s okay,” Iris says quietly, pulling a piece of shredded lettuce out of her sandwich and frowning at it.

“There’s nothing wrong with that lettuce.”

“I meant with Paige.”

“I know, but you’re giving the lettuce a suspicious look.”

“I fucked up my first act as a mom,” she says. “I evicted him from my uterus ten weeks early.”

“That’ll teach him to pay his rent on time.”

“I really like TION. Like, I kind of love them.”

Zoe smiles. “I sort of got that impression.”

“Like, not even a little bit ironically. I genuinely love them. If one of them needed a kidney and I was a match, I would genuinely give them my kidney.”

[cophene]

002 | first rate fruit.

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

pairing : jojolion x gn reader summary : the heir to an limitless fortune goes on a vacation to morioh to find their true love. seems easy enough; only, if that they're unable to find their love, they'll lose not just their fortune, but their life. notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.9k+

★ . . . JOSHU GLANCED BACK AT YOU and Karera in the backseat every five minutes. Whether it was because he was afraid you would use your Stand again, or because he really found you that ugly, you couldn’t tell. His wariness stifled the car, and all your attempts at making conversation fell flat. 

“I can’t believe you used your Stand on him already,” Karera said from the corner of her mouth. She’d whined for Joshu to move up his car seat but he’d refused, and so her legs were folded nearly up to her chin. “And over a drink.”

“I was thirsty,” you said. “And besides, he was being an asshole.”

“I can hear you,” Joshu growled.

You raised your voice. “You were being an asshole.”

Joshu stopped at a red light, none too gently, knocking your head against the window.

“What number did he roll?” Karera asked.

“A five.”

“Knew it.”  She caught your arm before you could slip your bone dice into your pocket. “Let me roll again.”

“You know what number you’ll get.”

“Still. I want to check.”

You held out the jade plate as Karera shook the dice in her fist and dropped them. The dice practically landed on their sides, five pips on one and six on the other. Even though Karera had been rolling an eleven for years now, she still looked pleased at the number. 

Although your bone dice were in some ways still up to chance, you could make a good guess as to what number someone would roll. Strangers were more likely to roll a five, making them the best to assign tasks to. Friends were seven or eight and family regularly rolled nines and tens. Only the closest and most trusted were able to roll an eleven, and you had yet to meet anyone who could roll a twelve. Karera had jokingly suggested once that only your true love could roll that perfect number. You had rolled your eyes, but with how things were going, that would quickly be put to the test.

You made eye contact with Joshu again in the rearview mirror. He made a face and you made one right back. At least you knew Joshu was out of the running.

“That river is gorgeous,” Karera sighed. Looking out your own window, a smile spread over your face at the sight. You rolled down your window to listen to the gushing water as you crossed over the bridge. With the dropping sun splashing sparkles over the water, the water was bright enough to hurt.

“What’s the river called?” you asked Joshu.

“Stupid River.”

You scowled. “I’m here on vacation. The least you can do is tell me about the town a little bit.”

Joshu let out a long-suffering sigh. “This is the Ichio River,” he said in monotone. “We’re currently on the Hagi Bridge. Crossing over it, we arrive in Morioh, known for its tourism industry and beef tongue pickled in miso.” He cut you off before you could speak. “No, I’m not gonna take you, don’t even ask.”

Morioh. You craned your neck to take in the town sign as you passed. Above the town’s name was a curved M beneath a crown. Set against the backdrop of dusk, the villas you passed were neatly pressed and decorated, all of them fitting together like a well-curated photograph. One of these villas was your mother’s, but for a night at least, you would be staying with the Higashikata family. Something about business partners and family debts and associations. In one of your bags was a bottle of very expensive cherry wine from your family’s winery. You would probably forget to give it to the Higashikatas, you thought idly.

The rest of the buildings and streets you passed were similarly cultivated. Nothing out of place. A perfectly peaceful and pleasant town to spend the summer. The only thing that took you by surprise were the huge cliffs rising out of the ground as Joshu drove you past the edge of the villas.

“What are those?” you breathed. You leaned out of your window to get a better look. The tallest mounds reached well over your head, the setting sun casting their shadows on the road. You gawked at the houses embedded in the cliffs and a line of road that started on the ground but then crawled up the cliffs as though it had been caught unawares. It was like some kid had gone haywire in his model city and pushed up a section, leaving everything crooked and askew. In some places, dark holes gaped out from the exposed ground. Disturbingly, you thought they looked like eyes.

Joshu barely glanced at the protuberances. “Oh, those? They’re the Wall Eyes. There was an earthquake a few years back and those cliffs just rose up from the ground. I remember some fake-ass researcher saying on TV they were from tectonic plates or faults or something. Hell if I know. Now they’re just a part of the scenery.”

“They’re cool as hell,” Karera said. You didn’t quite agree. Something about the cliffs unsettled you. They didn’t belong in the picturesque town you’d been driving through.

“There are houses and stuff scattered all over those cliffs. They ever find anything weird in there?” Karera asked.

Joshu twisted his lips. “Oh yeah, plenty of shit. An entire person was found near there one time.”

Karera looked delighted. You clenched the bone dice in your pocket. “It must have been terrible. These cliffs suddenly breaking through Morioh after the earthquake.”

Joshu rolled his eyes. “You’re telling me. My house is right by those stupid Wall Eyes. We used to have a killer view until the cliffs showed up.”

Karera tapped your knee. “Relax. It’s just a bunch of cliffs.”

You pressed your lips together. Cliffs though they were, you were still glad when they disappeared from sight as Joshu drove into Morioh’s city centre.

“Dad wanted me to take you to our fruit parlour before we dropped off your things at our house,” Joshu said as you got out of his car. His face had twisted back into a scowl. “Acting like I’m your goddamn tour guide or something. Come on. We don’t have all day.”

You admired downtown Morioh as Joshu led you and Mori to the Higashikata’s fruit parlour. All of the buildings were easily accessible immediately following the train station. Unlike the more confusing layouts of cities you had visited, Morioh made it easy to drift from shop to shop and in between restaurants. With no traffic around, the pleasant murmur of conversation and music invited you to relax and simply enjoy the city’s atmosphere. All of the buildings were tidy and modern, and lacked the oversaturation of brands and advertising. You caught Karera’s arm as she approached some poor old man’s snack bar. It was way too early for her to be scamming people yet.

“Here we are,” Joshu announced with false enthusiasm. “The Higashikata Fruit Parlour, home to the finest fruits or whatever.”

The parlour was surrounded on all sides by various high-end boutiques. Peeking in the display case, you found a selection of melons, all as perfect and delectable as an artist’s rendering.

“What the hell is that?” Karera murmured, looking up at the parlour’s sign. The unfamiliar symbol on the sign was inside the outline of a pear inside the shape of another fruit. You turned to ask Joshu about it only to find he’d already gone inside.

“Dad,” Joshu called, startling the people browsing around inside. “I got the rich brat from the airport!”

Karera raised her eyebrow at you. You threw back a pointed look. 

From the back of the shop, a voice snapped, “Joshu. Is that any way to talk to your guest? Apologize immediately.”

“They’re a rich brat, aren’t they?”

“The only brat here is you.” A man emerged from the back. He cast an apologetic look at the shop patrons before glaring at Joshu. “Apologize. Now.”

Joshu rolled his eyes. “Be glad I even drove them all the way out here. Didn’t I tell you I’m gonna be busy?”

The man looked like he was trying his hardest not to smack Joshu upside the head. “We just received a shipment of mandarin oranges. Go help unload them from the truck.”

“Huh? Hell no, I’ve got things to do and I’ve already wasted enough time—”

The man all but hauled Joshu off to the back. He returned a minute later, smoothing down his puffer vest.

“I apologize for my son. No matter how hard I try, he still acts like a bonehead.”

You waved it off. “I’ve dealt with worse, Higashikata-san.”

“None of that. Your family and mine have been business partners for years and friends for longer. Norisuke is fine.” Norisuke stepped back to look you over. “You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. Practically an adult now.”

Although you’d spent a few obligatory summers of your childhood here in Morioh, you remembered next to none of it. That being said, you still felt a familiar fondness looking at the man in front of you with the light beard and spheres running through his hair. The turtleneck and puffer vest had to be new, though.

Norisuke asked, “How are you doing? Your family is doing well?” 

“As well as can be expected.” You shrugged. “Things are more or less the same. How is your family? Your fruit parlour looks like it’s doing well.” You took the opportunity to hand over the bottle of cherry wine. You couldn’t be expected to go anywhere without spreading the winery infamy.

Norisuke grinned, accepting the bag. “Indeed, it is. I’ll take you up to the café later. It’s undergone major renovations since you were here last. As for my family… as well as can be expected,” he said, echoing your words.

You gestured for Karera to come over. She quickly dropped the box of mangoes she’d been holding and plastered on a huge smile. “This is Sakunami Karera. She’s a close friend. She’s spending my vacation with me.”

Norisuke shook Karera’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

Karera smiled. “Right back at you. Your fruit parlour is lovely. You’ve got some real nice melons here.” She only slightly winced when you jabbed your hand into her back.

Norisuke turned back to look at you. You noticed his eyes linger on the brand on the back of your hand. Maybe it wasn’t as faint as you’d thought. “I’m happy you’re here, but I can only assume you’re not here just for leisure.”

You pressed your lips together, suddenly wanting to hide your hand. “Unfortunately not.”

Norisuke’s eyes seemed to pierce straight through you. Karera aside, you supposed Norisuke would be the only one who knew the true reason you were in Morioh.

“And how old would you be this year?”

“Nineteen in a few weeks.”

That was all Norisuke needed to hear. He rubbed a hand across his beard, looking thoughtful. “I see. We’ll have to speak more about that when we get to the house.”

Your stomach twisted at that. Noticing your discomfort, Karera smoothly swept in.

“Would you mind showing us around, Norisuke-san? You really do have a lovely shop. I’ve never seen such a boogie place for some fruit.”

Norisuke preened, like a cat who had been scratched in just the right spot. “Of course.” He began walking around the shop, his voice taking on the timbre of a documentary host. “You might be put off by the prices, but all the fruits here are first-rate. Grown from first-rate trees in first-rate farms and sold exclusively at the Higashikata Fruit Parlour. Meanwhile, the fruits in supermarkets are third-rate, trying to reel you in by being cheap!” Norisuke gestured at the meticulously displayed boxes of fruit. Oranges, peaches, dragonfruit, pears. All smooth and gleaming under the store lights with not a bruise to be seen. The fruits rested on white tissue paper above a small golden rectangle denoting their price. In the corner of each box was a bow, tied neatly with ribbon.

“Fruit is special,” Norisuke said. “When someone is ill or befalls misfortune, you only ever send flowers and fruit. If they’re healthy and celebrating, though, there’s no shortage of things to give them!”

You exchanged a look with Karera. The comment you’d been wanting to make about Norisuke selling ridiculously overpriced fruit wilted.

“Whaddya do you do with the overripe fruit?” Karera asked. You were wondering the same thing. If this fruit parlour really was “first-rate” it was unlikely Norisuke would sell overripe fruit. Then again, he didn’t seem like the type to just throw it away either.

Norisuke grinned wide. “That’s where the fruit parlour on the second floor comes in.” He led you over to the elevator on the far side of the shop. “We offer melon parfaits and other desserts to our customers and use the fruits before they spoil, thereby eliminating the heavy losses we might have.”

Karera nodded, pressing the elevator call button. “That’s pretty impressive, Norisuke-san. You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

You bit back the urge to roll your eyes. Flattery was Karera’s middle name. She was probably thinking she'd be able to steal from here as you spoke.

“It’s the flow of business I’ve created,” Norisuke said smugly. “Won’t find another place like this one.”

Punctuating this grand statement was a spectacular crash from the back room. A heavy thump followed not a second later, along with a flurry of … questionable obscenities.

Norisuke closed his eyes. “I’m gonna kill that kid.”

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. 

“You two go on ahead,” Norisuke said, suddenly sounding tired. “Have one of the servers up there fix you both a parfait. On the house. We’ll be closing up in about an hour. I’ll come up to get you when it’s time to leave.”

You and Karera thanked Norisuke before stepping into the elevator.

“Couldn’t have laid on the flattery any harder could you, Karera?”

She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. “Whatever. I was thinking I could pull my hair trick on Norisuke or something but it wouldn’t work with fruit. I’ll have to wait till we get to the parlour.”

Even now, you couldn’t understand Karera’s compulsion to dupe people when you had more than enough money to do anything. “Norisuke said the parfaits were on him.”

“You never know.”

The elevator doors opened, and you and Karera stepped into a spacious parlour. Booths took up the entire left side, the huge windows affording customers with a lovely view of Morioh’s downtown bathed in the setting sun. To the other side was an open bar and kitchen, the tiny, embedded lights in the ceiling making the fruits and whips of cream seem to glow. You inhaled, smiling at the lilt of fruit and light sweetness of ice cream and icing. No wonder there were so many people here, even at the late hour. It was the perfect place to wind down after a day spent browsing boutiques.

Karera let out a low whistle, watching the servers move efficiently about the space. They were all just as lovely as the boutique, wearing crisp waist aprons over dark clothes. You were amused that both the male and female servers had a pale pink kerchief tied over their hair.

“You’d look cute in one of those,” you quipped to Karera. A voice cut in before she could reply.

“Welcome to the Higashikata Fruit Parlour. My name is Josuke and I’ll be your server today.” 

A charming gap-toothed smile followed the greeting, along with a pair of the most unusual violet-blue eyes. 

Your heart skipped a beat.

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents