#too bad he doesn't have much appearance but i guess it's just meant to be that way

[helluvapurf]

Thoughts on latest HB ep "Ghostf**kers" (*now that I've regained a bit more energy post-Halloween weekend lol*):

So the newest ep of HB has came & went from what I've seen- aaaand naturally feels like the best time for me to finally ramble about it now that its settled in my brain some more .3. Thoughts (+Spoilers) below~ NOTE: Most of this -does- get a lil rant-y below sooo... read at your own risk lol .w.;;

First things out of the way to start things off on a good note, the Pros:

To start off with... FINALLY we got some Millie focus for a major episode plot (-or more specifically, focus that doesn't get revolved back to Moxxie somehow lol)😭👏👏. Even if she still lowkey had to share the spotlight with Blitz, their friendship actually felt pretty sweet & compelling the more I watched them (esp their backstory & how Millie was allowed to stand up for herself + while also acknowledging the good in Blitz, once they talked things out 🥺👏). Which ngl, after these previous episodes reigning down HARD on this dude... idk, just felt refreshingly wholesome to see for this series, yknow?😊

New villain Rolando was pretty cool, and surprisingly spooky to watch as the second-half went on oml- .o.;; While I'm still a teensy bit confused how his powers/demon lore work (at least to what we already know about Hell limitations crossing to the human world, ex. succubi & their crystals), his underwater monster vibe gave some fun visuals to watch up until the climax. I'm not 100% familiar with John Waters' works, but damnnn he should take up voice-acting more often ngl~ 👀

FINALLY MAMA TILLA MAKES AN (on-screen) APPEARANCE 😭😭Her whole vibe & Blitz's clear love and regret over what happened to her... hhhhh my whole heart ;n; 💔

That pink client lady (Rita, I think her name is?) who assigned the hotel mission? I dig her vibe, its cute~ :3

I.M.P. feeling like a legitimate workplace family for once, with even Loona & Moxxie getting a nice lil moment towards the end?? More. Of this. Please. 👌👌

Even with the lil undertones of the Stol*itz drama from the past couple eps, I very much appreciate Blitz (+the show itself) acknowledging that what's been going is NOT a breakup ('cause... yknow, they never actually dated to begin with lol🤷‍♀️). It may not 100% fix how messy that particular narrative's been handled as of late (which I'll get to in a sec-), but eh... its a start in the right direction, I guess? .3.

Enjoyed all the colorful flashback looks given, never would I have thought I needed mercenary!Millie with a fluffy ponytail til nowww hlkjlk😩❤️

Aaaand as for the not-so-good bits (imo), aka the Cons:

Pacing felt kiiiinda all-over-the-place, I'll admit; like one min we're wasting a good chunk on Blitz's whining fest at the start (+some other pointless banter at the hotel), then the next it feels like we're breezing past Rolando's presence as the "big bad" by the end. Which... I guess I shouldn't be too harsh on given the production drama behind-the-scenes (aka: the leaked content that had to be cut & redone awhile back)... buuuut yeah, its just one of those things you can't help but notice either way 🤷‍♀️

Humor-wise wasn't... exactly at its strong point here, mainly just a lil overdone in the sex joke department imo though I guess thats also a bit par-for-the-course in a series like Hellaverse ngl- lol

Now, idk if this may be an unpopular opinion or not; but was I the only one who felt like Blitz's month-long mope fest over Stolas pretty... OOC, all things considered? .-. Like, okay its one thing for Blitz to still be understandably upset over how the last two eps went down (but being the "boss" he is, continues working anyway to keep I.M.P. afloat, as seen in the HB shorts)... but for Blitz of all people to just randomly use ALL his company's funds on useless junk, force his daughter Loona to stay up all night/not go home, drive Moxxie in a panic from all the budgeting issues this past month was just... wut- 🤦‍♀️ ...Mind you, this is meant to be the SAME Blitz who not even a few episodes ago begged Stolas to not take away the Grimoire (aka the key to his + his employee's livelihood), clearly being willing to do anything to not lose all he holds dear. You seriously expect me to believe he'd be the type to throw that all away (for a WHOLE month) to whine over some blue-blooded bird not noticing him? ...Yeaaaaah sorry, but I'm gonna have to call bs on that, chief 🙄

Kiiiinda tying in the last point, but as much as I enjoyed the tense thills gained from the "Rolando enters Blitz' mind to make him see his own flaws/past mistakes" sequence... I do have a few issues with some of these other "flashbacks" added to the mix: 1) Loona's groin kick towards Blitz in "Seeing Stars" (*wasn't Blitz's fault since ALL he did was tell her to be nice to clients... and was right about to apologize to Loona just seconds before the kick 😒*) 2) Blitz pushing Stolas' hand away in "Ozzies" (*which Blitz only did after Stolas hide his face away/didn't defend Blitz during the song*) 3) Stolas' hurt face at the end van scene of "Ozzie's" (*mind you, taking place while Blitz is rightfully standing up for himself/telling off Stolas for being a privileged creep all of S1*) 4) Stolas trying to present the Asmodean Crystal gift in "Full Moon" (*a whoooole mess in of itself I already covered prior-*) 5) Stolas angrily walking away from their pool fight + trash-talking Blitz in the "Motherf**kers" song + drunk whining + making out with a whole other dude in front of Blitz (*again, a huge mess I covered prior but TL;DR... most of that WASN'T fully-Blitz's fault in those instances??😑*)

Like... I dunno man, I don't mean to sound like I'm just ragging on Stolas per-episode as of late... but these last few points just keep giving me mixed signals than any genuine "hope" for him & Blitz to work out romantically tbh😔. For any canon couple in fiction, I WANT to see reasons for why they work best together, what kind of interests/aspects they've got in-common, what special "spark" is there that helps them stand out above all the other dynamics out there... but from what I see so far on Blitz's end, it honestly feels more like he's only gained these "feelings" for Stolas out of guilt... not because he actually wants him for him, y'know? :/ Which... ngl, sounds like a really sad precedent to send for a main-endgame couple, imho... 🤷‍♀️

-------

Soooo yeah, all that rant-y rambling aside... not a bad ep in the grand scheme of things! 👍👍Here's hoping the last few remaining eps (+possible shorts) for S2 keeps up the good work! 🙏

[glamrocktiger]

OMC art i did for another anniversary collab, forgot to post it before so I'm posting it now! I also have tons of asks, i really need to answer them 🤧🤧

[lieutenantselnia]

This is super random, but I've recently been watching more German movies (I really enjoyed the performances of some Downfall actors and wanted to see some of their other works), and like what the hell is it with 2000s German movies that there's way too often one entirely random scene with someone having their bare ass out😭😂

Of course it doesn't happen in every movie but still often enough that it's somehow noticeable? I'm not sure if it's more of a time or a country dependent thing, but at least in my perception I just don't feel like this occurs as often in more recent movies and series especially in those from the US (like, I feel I'd have noticed if it did because I'd probably be lowkey annoyed by it😂)

[rosemaze-reveries]

I would like to ask for a idv male hunters(of your choosing) reacting to a female reader where she suddenly goes "omg your tits are bigger than mine.."

maybe it was their first meeting, maybe she was bored when she got chaired, whatever the case I just thought it'd be funny.

SJKASKJA thank you for the laugh, i opened this ask like WHAT!!!! but i will indulge u anon... <3

⚠️ suggestive content (strip tease, clothed fondling & flirty banter).

⚠️ reader uses she/her.

🐦‍⬛📸🦎⚡🌪️🦌

🐦‍⬛ Nightmare doesn't immediately respond. He sends a sideways glance to you, who's bound and bored at a slow-ticking rocket chair. "I guess you'd be hard-pressed to find any bigger than those. Must be nice to brag about," you rattle on. If you're trying to seduce your way to freedom, you're failing miserably. Nightmare stalks over to your chair, his broad chest casting a shadow over you.

"Would you have that same attitude once you've been smothered beneath them? Keep mouthing off, and I might just test it."

...What? Was that supposed to be a threat? Anyway, it didn't achieve the desired effect. You blink up at him, not totally opposed to the idea.

📸 Joseph's gaze flicks to your chest. He blinks away a milisecond later, but not quickly enough to escape your notice. A cheeky grin appears on your face as if to say made you look. "I disagree," he tuts. "Remind me, which one of us is so inept with her brassieres that she needs me to unclasp them for her every night, and – despite loathing them so – dutifully puts them on again the next day, as if her poor, aching back demands it of her?" Knowing you can't say anything, he sends back a winning smile of his own.

🦎 Luchino readily cocks his attention to you. "Oh? Like what you see?" You just never noticed how visibly his chest protrudes, especially from a side view. But your comment attracts him closer to your chair, and he decides to give you a little show. Slowly, too slowly, he slips off his jacket, letting it crumple to the floor.

"Oh," escapes your lips once you realize what's going on. Next goes the first button of his shirt.

⚡ Alva sets down his pen when you drag your nails down his chest. What began as an innocuous shoulder massage quickly turned into marveling at the broadness of his pecs. He's sure you meant well, but that comment draws a sharp sigh out of him. "I'm glad to know I'm entertaining you..." he murmurs. That snaps you back to reality: you wanted to be serving him today. You kiss his shoulder blade as an apology, kneading his tense muscles until he lets out another hitched breath.

🌪️ Ithaqua takes your comment as an invitation to reach forward, cupping an icy hand over one of your breasts. It happens so fast you can barely register it. Then he decides: "They're not too bad." He has never been one for delicacy, but that was so blunt it startles you into a fit of giggles. Sometimes you forget he's inexperienced with this sort of thing.

🦌 Bane looks down at the pout you're sending him. This is the first time he's let you hug him, and you're just realizing how much you have to strain your neck to avoid being suffocated by his chest. "A bigger body just means a stronger shield. Nothing more to it than that," he says dryly. You roll your eyes. He's always so hardheaded.

"You're more like a pillow to me," you try. "I wish I had some of these."

He still doesn't give you the reaction you're fishing for. He silently clutches your waist and tips back onto his bed, so that you're properly laying on top of him -- like a pillow.

[jeansllvr]

— Show Me Off

+ streamer!kenma x fem!reader

summary: after keeping your relationship with kenma a secret for over 3 years, you both think it's time to announce the news.

notes: this was longer than I intended to be my bad 💀, I only know a few games MAX so I'm tryna work on that, this was my first time writing/publishing my writing works so please bear with me on that 🙏🏾

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

When you first started dating Kenma you had absolutely no idea he was a famous streamer. His first time bringing it up was 7 months into your relationship.

"Kenma what do you want to eat?" You said making your way from the kitchen to the master bedroom, pausing in the door frame. "I was thinking alfredo pasta with baked chicken but I'm done for whatever."

"That sounds fine my love, anything you make is gonna be delicious anyways." He said, looking up from his phone to shoot you a smile.

You smiled and made a 'hum' sound as you walked back out.

After you took out the ingredients you also took out your phone and made your way to youtube.

You had a habit of turning on one of your favorite streamers/artists whenever you needed to get work done because somehow, it always made working much faster.

As you were scrolling through the recommended page, you noticed Kenma in one of the videos thumbnail. Letting curiosity kill the cat, you pressed on the video to see what it was about.

And as much to your surprise, your boyfriend of 7 months, was streaming to over 1 million people. Even if this video was old it still blew your mind how you never noticed your boyfriend was a damn streamer.

Setting your phone down you head back into the master bedroom, to have your boyfriend confess to his sins.

"So... You just weren't gonna tell me about you being a famous influencer?"

Looking up from his phone, Kenma took a while to really understand what you meant. "What are you- Oh.. Yeah, my bad."

"My bad? You kept this little secret off yours for 7 months and all I get is a 'my bad'". Your voice getting a bit more high-pitched at the end to mock Kenma.

He chuckled a bit before saying, "I honestly forgot to tell you, my love. I didn't really think it mattered that much."

"I mean it doesn't.. but it would have been nice to know."

He got up from his side of the bed, making his way towards you. When he reached you, he snaked his hands around your waist before kissing you.

"Sorry, I'll let you know next time."

Even though your eyes rolled to appear annoyed, the smirk on your face said otherwise. "Yeah, yeah, whatever.

୨⎯ Present Day⎯୧

"I think I'm ready." Was the first thing that was said by you as you were on Kenma's lap.

Pausing the CoryxKenshin video playing on the tv, he looks down at you, "For what exactly?"

"To announce I'm your girlfriend to your followers."

That topic wasn't brought up so often, after you found out about Kenma's career, he made sure that nobody would know of you if that's what made you comfortable.

It wasn't that you were uncomfortable with the attention, it's just that you weren't really used to it and you decided you needed to warm up to it step by step.

Kenma, understanding it all too well, agreed with you that nobody had to know until you were 100% ready.

Guess that today was that day.

"You sure? Like 100% sure? Don't work yourself up if you're not ready, baby."

"Don't worry I'm not! I do think I'm ready and besides, it can't be a secret for long. We're already 3 years into our relationship and nobody but close friends and family know." You said, sitting up so you two could be eye to eye.

"True," He gave you a quick peck on the lips. "Then we'll do it tomorrow, since I was already planning on streaming that new game."

You simply nodded your head, going right back to resting position on his lap, as the video plays once more.

୨⎯ The Next Day⎯୧

"Stay off to the side until I announce you okay my love?"

"A demanding man today I see." Sarcasm lacing your voice, as you started poking him.

Even though he shook his head and rolled his eyes, you could still see the sly smirk spread across his face. "Oh whatever menace."

Your laughing started to cease as you saw he had started the stream, now it was time to get quiet.

It took a few minutes but eventually more and more people started joining the stream. You were still taken aback by just how many people there were watching him, watching you.

To get your mind off of that though, you decided to read the comments off screen.

@gloharchive: heyyy kenma!!

@plazafolres: watching this stream > studying

@kenmasear: HEYYY

@shoyosunshine: WHAT ARE WE PLAYING TODAY KENMA??

You hear light chuckling next to you, turning you see Kenma also reading the comments.

"Hey to you all. Donations already? Thank y'all so much."

You looked down towards his right hand, he must have taken your hand into his while you were lost reading the comments. You gently traced your thumb up and down his pointer finger before looking up again—as he began to talk once more.

"Yeah we're gonna be playing that new Amanda the Adventurer game. Alot of y'all on twitter have been bugging me about it since it came out." He used his left hand to go to the game's home-screen.

@kenmakozime: WE ALL CHEERED!

@cupipetals: y'all think he's gonna be scared shitless??

@ivanghw: @cuoipetals oh most deff

"But before that.. uh I have some news for y'all," He turned towards you, using his eyes to ask one final time 'are you sure?'

You thought about it for an amount before looking back up to face him and with a sharp nod pushing all those worries down to focus on the now, focus on the fact that people will finally know who Kenma Kozume belongs to.

He smiled once more before turning back to the camera, checking one more time before announcing it.

@kenmasoneandonly: announcement??? getting kinda nervous

@miyatwins_lover: TELL US TELL US TELL US TELL US!!!

@kenmaluvrr: are you filming with shoyo or kuroo???

@ivan: STOP READING AND TELL US? HELLO?

"Alright. Alright. I'll tell y'all now, you demons." Pulling your hand into the camera's view, he kisses it while maintaining eye contact.

You break it by going to read the comments again, noticing how fast they're going than before.

@kenmasoneandonly: WTF?? WTF WHO IS THAT???

@meg_megan: DAMN.

@ricooyat: HUH?? KENMA PULLS??

Before you could look at him again, he pulls you onto his lap so the stream can see your face. You weren't expecting it so you flash a quick and awkward smile.

"Hey.. y'all." Stiffly waving towards the camera.

"Go easy on her guys, she's a lil camera shy." Kenma says with a straight teasing tone as he pokes your back.

You manage to hit his shoulder. "Stop your dork, at least lemme introduce myself first." Playfully rolling your eyes, "So inconsiderate."

"Oh my apologies your highness."

"Thank you," Whipping your hair in his face, "Anyways, hello! I'm Y/n, nice to finally meet y'all."

You began to read the comments again.

@SCORPIOGEMS: AHHH OMG SHE'S SO PRETTY??

@kenmaslefttoe: congratulations! (I'm dying right now)

@hshramint: do y'all see the cute banter they do?? I can't.

@meganthestallionshorse: AWHH WHAT

@hannisdrops: stop she's actually so freaking cute I need her socials

@kenmaslove: Y/N I'M ON MY KNEES WAIT.

Kenma let you read as many as you wanted before starting the game, you gave the occasional 'thank you's and flirty replies back. You started to forget the worries you had about coming on stream.

You found the comments amusing and Kenma's reaction to the flirty ones made you bust into a fit of laughter.

After answering some questions about you and your relationship with Kenma, you made sure to give everybody your socials before deciding it was time to leave and let Kenma do his own thing.

"I'll be in the living room if you need me."

"Alright my love, I love you." He reached his hand out to your chin, guiding you to his lips and you shared a tender kiss.

"I love you more."

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[verysium]

how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!

thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:

sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.

kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)

rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.

yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.

isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.

bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.

barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.

Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.

“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”

“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”

“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.

“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”

“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.

“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”

“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”

You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”

“Don't I know it.  He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”

You exhale, “mom.”

“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”

“Ma, you don't know–”

“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”

“Oh, ma–”

“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”

“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.

“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.

“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”

“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”

You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.

🌾

Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.

As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?

He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.

He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.

“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”

“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”

His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”

You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”

“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly. 

Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”

“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.

He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.

“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”

“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.

“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”

“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.

“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”

“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.

“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”

“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”

“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”

“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you. 

“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”

You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.

[lowkeychenle]

the 1 [NJM] (M)

Description: Six years ago, you decided to move away to a different country to go to school. The catch? You had to leave Jaemin behind, and you refused to drag him along. Now you're back and, for some reason, he doesn't quite seem to hate you in the way you thought he would.

(this is inspired by the Taylor Swift song by the same name, listen to it here)

Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst TRIPLE THREAT (?? am i okay)

Content Warnings: Explicit sex, break ups, the angst isn't too bad I don't think. Just break up stuff l o l (also don't judge any typos or repetitions I didn't edit this because I wrote this whole thing today someone save me from myself) (also also I am totally working on all requests still, I just get random inspo sometimes and when it hits, it hits)

Word Count: 10,012 (yoo for why did I make this so long help)

Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader (this is a non-canon AU, Jaemin is a lil businessman and the rest of Dream make appearances here. PS, Best Friend!Donghyuck y'all)

Juliet's Masterlist

Honestly, you never thought you’d make your way back to Seoul. Not when you didn’t have much to come back to. Leaving for college was the scariest decision you’d ever made, but you’re so much better off for it. The experience of living in another country—even if it just for school—is the best thing you’ve ever done.

But Seoul is home. Home is where the heart is, and yours has always resided here, even long after you left. You wonder about the friends you left behind, knowing you haven’t been the best at keeping up with them.

You especially think of Jaemin. The two of you were both twenty-two when you left and, at the time, you would’ve said you were in love with him. You’d been dating for a year before you made your decision.

You don’t think of him in a way that you still have feelings for him, but rather, you want the best for him. If anything, you want to know he’s been as successful as you after you walked away from him.

“America?” Jaemin raises his eyebrows, recoiling at the thought. “I mean, that’s a great opportunity, but wouldn’t it be hard?”

“Of course, it’ll be hard. I think I need to do this before it’s too late for me.” You look down at your hands to avoid eye contact with him. The last thing you want to do is break his heart. Hell, you’ll be breaking your own, too. But being in love with Jaemin doesn’t mean you have to stop everything going on in your life to make sure you keep him.

“How long?” he asks.

“The standard degree path is four years over there, but it could take longer.”

He pauses, gulping. “Wow. You’ll be gone for four years?”

“Yeah.” You pick at your nails and clear your throat. “This is…This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Jaem. I can’t miss it.”

“I know. I wouldn’t want you to. Um, I guess I’m just nervous as to what that means for us.”

“I love you.” You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers. “I love you so much, but I can’t ask you to wait for me for four years. Or longer.”

“It’s not like we won’t talk. We have calls, FaceTime, we have everything. However long you need, we’ll work it out.” He tilts his head. At your hesitation, worry spreads across his face.

“I…I don’t know if I’ll come back at all, is what I mean.” You finally meet his gaze and watch the shock course through him.

“Okay, then I’ll move there, too,” he replies, as if it were simple. His forehead wrinkles as he frowns. “If that’s what you want, I can do that. We’ve only been together a year, (Y/N), that’s not long enough for me. I need forever. I promised you forever and I meant it.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.” You shake your head, feeling your eyes well with tears. “Your family’s here. Your friends. We both know you wouldn’t want to move away from your mom forever.”

Jaemin lets out a short breath, tugging his hand away from yours and running it through his hair. “So that’s it? There’s no way I can convince you?”

“You deserve someone who wants the same things you do. The same life. If I can’t give that to you, someone else will. I love you, but sometimes, love isn’t always enough if we’re being pulled in different directions.”

“I won’t just forget about you. You’re just going to disappear?” He wipes away a tear, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t have to forget about me. I’m not forgetting about you. I just need to do something for myself, and I can’t force you along with me.”

The barista jolts you from your trance, asking you if there’s something she can help you with. You clear your throat, hoping you’ll be able to talk past the lump in your throat. After ordering your favorite coffee, you stand off to the side to wait for it.

The door dings behind you, but you think nothing of it. You continue about your business, checking your phone for the time and waiting for your drink. A message comes through from your friend Donghyuck asking if you’d gotten everything settled already.

You and Jaemin had the same friend group. That’s how you met, actually. Donghyuck brought you over to one of their group hang outs, and you and Jaemin clung to each other like glue. It was inevitable that you two would end up dating, and when you did, literally not one of them were surprised.

You send him a quick message back saying everything’s good, and then the barista calls your name. Smiling at her, you walk up to grab the steaming hot cup. Nearly groaning to yourself about how good it smells, you turn around to walk toward the door.

That’s when you see him.

Jaemin.

You haven’t seen him in years. Sure, you still had each other on social media, but you never went out of your way to look at him. Five years has done him well and, at first, you’re unsure if you should say anything. He’s staring right at you, but it doesn’t feel like an invitation. It feels weird.

He’s clearly not the same Jaemin he was, but he’s Jaemin.

And right when you think he’s going to storm off in the other direction and want nothing to do with you, he smiles widely and approaches you. His smile is as gorgeous as it was before, maybe even more so. Normally, this would do little to bother you. You two ended on somewhat good terms, so there’s no reason for either of you to be holding a grudge all this time later.

He wears black pants with a pale pink button-down tucked into them. There isn’t another word to describe him other than divine. He looks good. 

With his hands buried in his pockets, he makes his way over. “I thought that was you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” You laugh shortly, surprised that you don’t feel too awkward now that he’s in front of you. “Wow, how long has it been?”

As if you don’t know.

“Five years?” he says it like a question. “It hasn’t been that long since we’ve talked though. I guess things are just hard with time zones, aren’t they?”

You give an exaggerated nod. “Totally get that. Well, how have you been?”

“Busy.” He snorts, widening his eyes. “Busy like you wouldn’t believe. Did you end up getting your degree over there? Have you been to see Donghyuck yet?”

“I got the very expensive piece of paper, yes. And I haven’t seen him yet, no. I got back two days ago and have been trying to get things settled before I take a break.” You sip your coffee, almost sighing at the taste of vanilla on your tongue.

“I’m proud of you.” He purses his lips. “Not sure if that means much, but I am. I’m glad it worked out the way you wanted.”

“Thank you. It means a lot, especially from you. What did you decide to do here?” you ask him, tilting your head a bit.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear,” Jaemin says. “Renjun, Chenle, Jeno, and I opened a business a couple years back. We’ve been doing pretty well, but it doesn’t really leave us with much time for anything else.”

“Holy shit, Jaem, that’s awesome.” You can’t help but grin at him. “I always knew you guys were destined for great things.”

You think back to when you’d hang out with all of them—Jaemin, Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, Chenle, and Jisung. Every Saturday night, you’d all get together for drinks at someone’s house, a constant rotation of happiness, friendship, and pure adoration. You love all of them, albeit in different ways, you feel a strong connection to them all. Being without them for so long has certainly made you nostalgic, but you’re sure you’ll at least see some of them now that you’re back.

You’re not sure if Jaemin will ever be comfortable hanging out with you. Neither of you were particularly bitter in your breakup, but it wasn’t mutual. You didn’t even want it, and he certainly didn’t either. But Jaemin has always been understanding—almost to a fault. He would never ask you to do something if it was against what you wanted to do.

“You know.” He pauses, running his tongue over his teeth. “Are you busy? I’m on my lunch, so if you want to catch up a little, I have the time.”

You hesitate, unsure if it’s a good idea. Before you and Jaemin dated, he was an excellent friend, too. Your only worry at this point is if things will be awkward between the two of you, but it doesn’t seem to be that way yet.

“Yeah, actually.” You take another sip of your coffee, cradling your jacket over your arm to your chest.

He gives you another dazzling smile and gestures over to a small table by the window. “After you.”

You sit down, shrugging your purse from your shoulder and hanging it from the back of the chair. He follows your lead, black hair falling like a curtain over his forehead as he leans forward to bring the seat closer. An odd urge to brush it away overtakes you, but you grab your coffee instead.

Your past with Jaemin is long gone. He’s definitely moved on to bigger, better things, and so have you. Your time in America wasn’t wasted, and you knew from Donghyuck the moment Jaemin moved on from you. It didn’t hurt the way you thought it would. You wanted him happy and cared for, and if you couldn’t do it, you hoped and prayed someone else would.

That was three years ago, but Donghyuck never talked about Jaemin to you again, unless it was something small that happened in a group setting. At that point, you’d also moved on, so as long as he was alive and thriving, you didn’t need to hear about it. Everything was okay.

You’ll always hold an unmatched adoration for the man sitting in front of you. He was your first real love, but everyone knows not everything in your early twenties lasts. It’s true what they say—that you never truly forget your first love. That, and how once you love someone, you’ll always hold some sort of affection for them in your heart.

You tell Jaemin of all the things you got to do in America, and he listens intently. In turn, he tells you about his business and how they grew it from the ground up. It’s one of the largest companies in South Korea, and your heart warms with pride.

Everything you did makes sense. You did it for a good reason. If he had dropped everything and come with you to America, he wouldn’t be doing what he loves. Eventually, you were sure he would’ve grown to resent you if he had gone.

Before you know it, the two of you have been talking for well over an hour. Your coffee is gone, the small bit left at the bottom chilled. On a whim, he checks his watch and recoils in shock.

“Oh shit,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize how long we’d been here.”

“It’s no big deal,” you reply, waving him off. “I’ll get going though.”

“Actually…So the guys and I still do Saturday nights. If you want to come this Saturday, it’s at my place. If you want, I can text you the address.” He taps his fingers on the table.

“Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun. It’ll be nice to see everyone. I did get a new number though, so let me give it to you.” You reach into your purse for your phone so you can find it. Since you had to switch plans when you moved back, you don’t really know it yet either.

You read it off to him, and he purses his lips while he sends his address to you in a text message. Afterwards, he stands up and brushes off his pants.

“It’ll be just like old times. Jisung is finally old enough to drink, too.” Jaemin chuckles to himself before running his fingers through his hair to push it back. “I’ll see you Saturday? We start at six.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there.” You watch as he retreats away from you, head held high as he walks out of the coffee shop. He was confident back when you dated, but he’s even more so, and for good reason. No matter what, it’s like he gets increasingly attractive as he ages.

As soon as he’s out of sight, you tap your cheeks to get the slight blush off of them. You didn’t expect to run into him like that, not so soon, but you’re glad you did. Everything happens for a reason, and you’re glad he’s okay with everyone hanging out. You’d hate to lose out on your friends because they have to pick sides.

The encounter stays heavy on your mind even until the next day when you’re supposed to meet Donghyuck for lunch. Your apartment is on the smaller side, since most of your savings was spent to get over here.

The living room is a little under furnished, but it’s nothing you won’t accumulate as time goes on. You have a soft loveseat, a TV mounted to the wall, and a small hallway off to the side that contains your kitchen and all the appliances. Your bedroom is on the left side, big enough only for your bed and a dresser.

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, trying your best to look at least presentable. You’ve been exhausted lately. Moving countries, across the world, takes a toll on you. At least today is Thursday. You have a job interview tomorrow, and then you’ll get to see your friends on Saturday. Your heart aches for them. They were the best friends you ever had, a complete, close knit group of people who just function so well together. There wasn’t anything else in the world like it.

You go to the small sandwich shop, finding Donghyuck already sitting there waiting for you. His face lights up like a Christmas tree at the sight of you, and his chair scrapes across the floor as he hurries to get up and hug you. He squeezes you so tightly, you almost can’t breathe. You laugh anyway, returning the gesture the best you can.

“My God, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” he says, smiling widely. “Shit, you’re not allowed to move out of the country again.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him. “You came to visit six months ago.”

“Six months is still half a year, (Y/N). Never again.”

“Luckily for you, I do plan on staying.” You wait for him to release you before the two of you head over to the line to order.

“Every time I see you, it’s like you’ve grown up more.” Donghyuck fakes a pout, shaking his head. “Look at you, being an adult in the world.”

“Shut your mouth,” you say. “You’re only a year older than me.”

“A year is plenty of time for extra wisdom.” He crosses his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows like his point is valid.

He orders for both of you, insisting on paying even though you’re about ready to wrestle his wallet out of his hands. It doesn’t matter if you had a billion dollars, he would still insist. That’s always what he’s been for you, your best friend. He takes care of you even when you don’t need it.

“So, when’s your interview?” he asks, accepting the cups from the person at the counter. Handing it to you, he leads you over to the fountain, filling his with Coke Zero.

“I’m glad to see some things never change.” You grin, picking your favorite drink as well. “It’s tomorrow. I’m hoping it works out, because job searching is so tiring.”

“Tell me about it. I’m sure it’ll go great. You’re multilingual and stuff. Employers love that shit.”

Before you respond, the order is ready. You two walk back to your table, conversing back and forth about random things. The conversation takes a turn, and you’re surprised when he actually brings it up.

“Jaemin said he invited you for Saturday.” Donghyuck sips his drink. “Are you going?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t miss something like that. It’s been too long since I’ve seen everyone.”

“I know that. It’s not weird with you and him, though?”

“Not at all.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you contemplate. “I was worried it would be, but we caught up a little. He seems to be doing really well. If it’s not awkward for him, it won’t be for me. I’d love to be reinstated in the friend group.”

“Reinstated?” He scrunches his nose. “That implies that you were ever un-instated.”

“Is…is that a word?” You chuckle.

“I don’t know. Sounds right to me.” He shrugs, taking a large bite of his sandwich. “I did tell them you were coming back, but also that I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with that. They all miss you. I swear, Jisung has been talking my ear off asking when we’ll all get together. He’ll be so happy you’re coming.”

Jisung has always been the baby of the group. Even as a full grown adult, you all treat him like a child. He doesn’t complain about it, and he feeds into it probably a bit more than he should. You learn Mark and Donghyuck live together, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jeno live in their own places, and Jisung and Renjun live together. You’re a bit shocked by the last pairing, but you don’t say anything about it.

“Just promise me that if it does get weird, you’ll tell me?”

“I’ll tell you. Promise.” You nod. “I don’t think it will. It was years ago, Hyuck. He moved on, I moved on, and we’re completely different people now. Neither of us are mad.”

“Good. It’ll be nice to have the family back together again.”

After lunch, Donghyuck drives you home. You thank him for the ride, and you head up to your apartment. Regardless of what you say out loud, your brain truly is whirling like crazy after your time with Jaemin.

You didn’t expect seeing him to send you for a loop like this, but you can’t help but think back to how happy you were with him. You two were…something. Maybe not perfect, but it was fun. Magnetic. Passionate. Everything you’ve tried to replicate, even though it’s impossible. No other man could ever be Jaemin.

Your mind drifts off, and you lose yourself in memories.

Saturday nights were a novelty. You sit on Chenle’s couch with Jaemin practically hung over you, the rest of the guys talking simultaneously and incredibly loudly. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you loved it. It reminded you how many people you had by your side, and how many of them were truly like you.

Jaemin kisses your temple, pausing there for a moment. It’s late, and you know he’s getting tired. Even though these are your best friends, you understand his need to wind down after a long night. You bring your wine glass up to your lips, finishing it off.

“Ready?” he asks softly.

You glance over at him and nod, smiling. “Yeah, let me go put this away.”

When you stand up, hardly anyone notices. Chenle and Jisung are basically yelling at each other about something you can’t discern. You laugh when Chenle argues with dramatic hand motions. That’s how you know it’s serious.

You’re pretty sure Renjun has Jeno in a headlock, but you go into the kitchen before you get a good look. It’s a bit quieter in here, and you take a deep breath. You place the glass gently into the sink, closing your eyes and craning your neck back in an attempt to relax. Saturday nights drain you in the best ways, and exhaustion is starting to creep in.

Before you know it, a pair of arms snake around your waist, tugging you back gently. You find yourself against Jaemin’s chest, and you instinctively lean your head on his shoulder.

“And I thought I was tired,” he mumbles, kissing your hairline. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Can I stay with you tonight?” You turn to face him, lost in the way the lights glitter in his deep brown eyes. He truly is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and you don’t have to restrain yourself from reaching up to cup his cheek. His skin is so smooth beneath your touch, you want to touch it forever.

“You don’t even have to ask.” He nods. “You’re always allowed to stay with me.”

Jaemin tells the boys you’re leaving. Chenle and Jisung halt their argument to give you a hug, and even Renjun allows Jeno some breathing time so he can say goodbye, too. Jaemin’s place isn’t far from Chenle’s, so you sit in silence for the ride, sleep threatening to take over on the way.

His fingers intertwine with yours over the center console, and his thumb rubs gently on your skin. You hum in content.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he whispers, careful not to startle you. “We’re almost there, my love.”

You try your best to listen to him. When you finally pull into his building’s parking lot, you’re barely able to keep your eyes open.

This week had been extra long, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to go to Chenle’s tonight in the first place. You’re glad you did, but you’d much rather be curled up with Jaemin. He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out, striding over to your side of the car.

Opening your door, he reaches across you to take your seatbelt off. “You okay? Do you want me to carry you?”

“Carry me? Jaem, you live on the fourth floor. I’ll be fine, just help me up.” You hold your hand out to him, but he clicks his tongue and slides his hands beneath your back and knees.

“You underestimate me,” he teases you, pulling you into his chest. “I’ll get you upstairs.”

Instead of arguing, you let your head fall onto his chest and you listen to his steady heartbeat. You’ve been together for six months now, and everything has been perfect. At this point, you’re pretty sure you want to marry Jaemin. You don’t know if he feels the same way, but you know you’d be damn lucky if that’s how things go.

He’s caring. Loving. All the things you could ever ask for. Hell, he’s carrying you into his apartment building so you don’t have to walk. He’ll make breakfast in the morning like he always does when you stay the night, and he’ll brush your hair and braid it if you want.

When you finally make it up to the fourth floor (via elevator, thankfully for Jaemin), his heart is still steady in his chest, and he brings you inside his apartment easily. He immediately brings you into his bedroom, setting you on his bed.

“Want a shirt, love?” he asks, heading over to his dresser.

“Please.” Your eyes are closed as you rest on his pillow, sinking into the soft mattress as if you’re on top of a cloud.

Jaemin grabs one for you, helping you sit up so he can help you take your blouse off. He pulls it over your head, the cotton fabric settling on your skin. It smells of his laundry detergent, so you take a deep breath to appreciate it.

“Okay,” he mutters. “Lay down now.”

He guides you back down, and he finds the button on your jeans. You aide him in taking them off of you, and then he kneels on the floor next to you, eye level with you.

“I love you,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Forever. I promise.”

“Me too,” you reply, voice quiet. “Love you forever.”

With a soft smile, he leans forward to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep, my love. I’ll be back to cuddle in a few minutes.”

You watch him walk into his bathroom, but you’re fast asleep before he comes back out.

Forever. You scoff at your ceiling. What a concept. A novelty, really. You’re not even sure if it exists at this point. If a man like Jaemin wasn’t your forever, who the hell would be? Nobody interested you enough. You don’t think you want Jaemin anymore, but you don’t want anyone else either.

A cat. That’s what you need.

You try to distract yourself with the thought of that, but it doesn’t take long for another memory to completely consume you.

“Is this okay?” he asks, chest heaving while he hovers above you as his hand rubs up and down your side. “Tell me if you’re not comfortable.”

“I love you,” you tell him easily, as if the words are second-nature when they come to him. “I’m ready. I want you.”

Seven months in, and you and Jaemin were just now preparing to have sex for the first time. You’d touched each other, explored each other, but he always insisted he wanted it to be perfect. This, you decide, is perfect. He’s perfect. Nothing about him makes you nervous, and you’re more than ready to take the next step with him.

Neither of you are virgins, but it’d obviously been a while for you both. He lines himself up with your entrance and groans.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, as if he’s mesmerized. “I love you.”

To quell his nerves, you pull him down into a soft kiss, letting your mouths work together in perfect harmony while he slowly, carefully pushes inside you. His lips part, still pressed to yours, once he’s fully in.

Your eyes desperately want to flutter shut, but you don’t dare look away from him right now. He stays there for a moment, relishing in the feeling of the two of you finally being connected like this. Jaemin is deeply sentimental, so you know how much it means for him to take this step with you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently. “God, you feel so good.”

A small whimper leaves you at the sensation, and you rock your hips in response. “Move,” you tell him.

He drops his head to your neck, kissing, sucking, and nipping as he sets his pace. Oh so careful not to break you, he moans into your skin, the vibrations making your whole body tremble. The slide of him against your walls is intoxicating, and all you can do is take it, legs locked firmly around him as he takes you to a new world.

“Jaem.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair for encouragement.

He continues to thrust, his breathing starting to increase when he gets closer to the edge. Without missing a beat, he reaches between the two of you to rub circles on your clit. You moan a bit louder than you should, but you don’t care.

Suddenly, you’re floating, brain going fuzzy when you reach heights you never thought you could. Your back arches into his body, nails digging into his shoulders as the world tilts off its axis.

“Shit,” he gasps, hips bucking. “You’re squeezing me so tight.”

You let out a shuddering breath, body slumping when you land from your free fall. Weaving your fingers through his hair, you pull him up to kiss you, swallowing his breathy whine as he cums.

Both of you sit there for a few moments, the only sounds are from the panting. He rests more of his weight on top of you, enveloping you in all the heat pouring out of his body. With a sweet kiss, he hums into your mouth.

“We’re gonna have to do that again.” He chuckles, his nose nuzzling your cheek. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“Says you,” you retort.

“I’m so serious.” Jaemin frowns at you. “I’m going to make love to you forever. We’ll get old and gray and I’ll still find you sexy.”

You laugh, smacking his chest. “You’re ridiculous. But you better mean that.”

“I’ve never meant anything more.”

When Saturday rolls around, you head into your closet to pick out an outfit. You don’t want to wear anything too fancy, but not too casual either. Settling on a flowy, pale pink top and a pair of jeans, staring at yourself in the mirror for much too long.

No part of today has to be weird. You’ll show up, have a great night, go home, and repeat it again the next week. Even knowing that, you’re more nervous for tonight than you were for your interview yesterday.

You think you got the job, but you’d hear back for sure on Monday. Logically, you have nothing to worry about on either end.

You put Jaemin’s address into the map on your phone, and you see it’s not too far from your apartment. Donghyuck offered to pick you up, but you decided it’d be best if you got there on your own. That way, you don’t have to make Hyuck leave early if things aren’t going well for you.

You slide on your boots, checking your pockets to make sure you have everything before you walk out into the street. Locking the door behind you, you make your way over. It’s a little before six, but everyone knows you’re chronically early. Even when you and Jaemin were dating, you were at least fifteen minutes early for every occasion.

You’re excited to see Jaemin again, but you know you shouldn’t be. In fact, you distract yourself with the idea of all the other boys. You saw Hyuck already, but seeing all the others for the first time in years is going to be a great experience.

When you arrive at the building, you blink in surprise. With him being a successful businessman, you knew he probably didn’t live in the same place, but this one shocked you. It’s huge. There are probably dozens of floors, and you have to look at his text message again to see which one he’s on.

Twenty-four? Holy shit.

You step into the lobby, and the man at the front desk also serves as an elevator guard. When you approach, he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Where are you needing to go, ma’am?” he asks.

“Twenty-fourth floor, it doesn’t say a number on the text, though—”

“Let me call up there to confirm. What’s your name?”

“(Y/N),” you reply, shifting on your feet.

“One moment, please.” He grabs the phone off the hook and dials quickly. “Mr. Na, I have a woman here to see you. Her name is (Y/N).”

It only takes a second for the man to nod and hang up the phone. He bows his head to you and gestures behind him. “He said he’s expecting you.”

The doors part for you and you step inside, and somehow, the button for the twenty-fourth floor is already pressed. You wait patiently inside as you ascend, the nerves beginning to sink in. Jaemin might be expecting you, sure, but you’re probably going to be the first one there. You always are.

When the elevator dings and opens, you expect a hallway. Instead, you’re walking straight into Jaemin’s living room. The wall across from you is all glass, the buzzing city view below making your heart drop. Hardwood flooring covers the expanse of the room, a faux fireplace on with a large sectional in front of it, a coffee table, and several other seating arrangements.

A few bottles of rosé are in a bin of ice on the coffee table, with ten glasses set out. You frown, letting your mind wander on who they could be for.

“Oh, you’re here!” It’s not Jaemin’s voice you hear.

When you turn toward it, you’re surprised to see a woman. She’s beautiful, with long black hair and shining brown eyes, and it takes you less than a split second to realize who she is. What did you expect? Jaemin moved on, and you shouldn’t be surprised. Your ribcage shouldn’t be constricting as hard as it is right now, but you laugh as she gives you a hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger.” She chuckles as she pulls away from you. “I’ve heard so much about you. The boys get so crazy when good things happen. It’ll be nice to have another girl around here, Jiyoon and I are pretty close to insane. I’m Yeeun.”

She holds her hand out to you and you take it, overwhelmed by the information she’s given you. Jaemin walks out from the kitchen, his white button-down shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the bottom hem tucked into a pair of blue jeans.

“Don’t scare her away.” Jaemin grins, shaking his head at her. “She’s kind of shy.”

“I’m not shy,” you retort.

“And that’s why you’re only one step inside, right?” Jaemin quirks an eyebrow, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “Make yourself at home. Lord knows everyone else does.”

“Where should I put my stuff?” I ask.

“The couch is fine. Everyone should be here soon.” Jaemin gestures over, but before you say anything else, he heads back into the kitchen.

“He’s so serious.” Yeeun cringes, walking with you to the couch. “Sometimes I think he’s got a stick in some places.”

“I can hear you,” Jaemin says.

You have to hold back another laugh.

“That’s the point,” she shouts back.

You take a seat and cross your legs, taking in the grandeur of Jaemin’s apartment. Various paintings hang on the walls and, in the midst of your concentration, something jumps in your lap. You gasp, throwing your hand over your mouth.

Thankfully, it’s just a kitten.

“Oh, that’s Luna.” Yeeun reaches over to give her a quick pet. “Jaemin’s got three cats. Luna, Lucy, and Luke. They kinda look similar, but you’ll learn them eventually.”

You stare at the animal in shock, wondering what convinced Jaemin to get three at once. Shrugging it off, you pick her up and hold her to your chest, running your hand over her soft fur.

“Chenle should be here any minute,” Yeeun says under her breath, glancing down at her phone. “Let me c—”

The elevator dings again, and Chenle walks in without a second thought. He tosses his jacket on the table and rolls his shoulders as if he’s done a bunch of work. Yeeun launches from the couch, and you can’t say you’re not relieved when you see her plant a kiss firmly on his lips. She’s not Jaemin’s girlfriend, she’s Chenle’s.

“You miss me after not seeing me for an hour?” he teases her, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“You’re so mean.” She scrunches her face, grabbing his hand and leading him over to the couch.

Chenle grins widely when he sees you and gives you a quick hug. “You finally decide to come back after five years?”

“Don’t be a brat.” You snort. “You’re elated I’ve returned.”

“We all are,” he says easily. “If I have to hear Hyuck cry one more time about you being thousands of miles away I might end him.”

“You and me both.”

“Oh, I had Yeeun come a little early. I knew you’d be atrociously early because you’re you, and I thought it might be weird with you and Jaemin alone, so…” Chenle lowers his voice.

“I appreciate you.” You smile, taking your spot back on the couch. “I’m okay, though. Really.”

Especially now that you know Jaemin’s not dating Yeeun.

“Chenle, I swear to God, if you eat all of this fucking board before everyone else gets here, I’m going to kill you.” Jaemin reenters, placing a charcuterie board down by the wine. “This took hours, dude.”

“I’ll leave it alone.” Chenle holds his hands up in mock surrender, sitting next to Yeeun and throwing his arm over her shoulders.

The next one to show up is Hyuck, who brings Mark in tow. They both hug you, and by now, conversation is flowing with everyone. Jeno is next, then Renjun and Jisung. You’re not sure what you were expecting from him, but he’s definitely turned into a grown up since the last time you’ve seen him.

“Holy shit,” you say, practically in awe. “Did you have seven growth spurts?”

“Actually, I think it was only one.” He laughs, patting your back. “I didn’t believe Hyuck when he said you were coming. Told him I’d have to see it with my own eyes first.”

When everyone is finally sitting down around the couch, you notice Chenle already eating some of the cheese. Jaemin glares at him, but he eventually gives up. You sit between Yeeun and Donghyuck, fading into the conversation in the way you used to. It warms your heart, and you have to fight the overwhelming feeling of having missed so much time.

Leaving was worth it. The experience you had was unlike any other, but you regretted not staying in contact with all of them—even Jaemin. Mark opens the wine first, pouring it into nine of the glasses.

“Where’s Jiyoon?” He frowns, directing his gaze to Jisung.

He shrugs. “She’ll be here soon. Her grandparents are in town, so she’s staying with her mom until they leave. But she shouldn’t be any later than seven-thirty.”

Your mind whirls at how they’re reacting to Jisung having a girlfriend like it’s normal. He’ll always be your baby brother in your eyes, regardless of blood relation.

“How’d your interview go?” Donghyuck asks you, roping you into the conversation.

“Oh, I think it went well. I find out for sure on Monday, so I’ll let you know.” You grin. “I’m ready to start making more money.”

“Why don’t you just come work for us?” Chenle offers. “I’m surprised Hyuck didn’t tell us you were looking for a job still.”

Donghyuck drops his head into his palm. “No shit, sherlock. Think about why I wouldn’t.”

“It doesn’t need to be like that,” Jaemin interjects, sighing. “(Y/N) and I are good. There’s no eggshells to walk on. Just let it go. Pretend it never happened.”

Pretend it never happened?

Your heart ping pongs around your chest, and you choke on your sip of wine. Everyone turns toward you and you chuckle nervously.

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting this topic.” You set the glass down on the table, suddenly much less interested in it.

“If that’s what she wants, she can absolutely do that,” Jaemin continues. “If we’re ever going to be normal, we can’t be the only ones over it.”

You stare down at your lap, fidgeting with your hands as you try to ignore all the attention on you.

“Um.” You clear your throat. “I’m gonna go grab some water.”

You shoot up from your spot, darting into the kitchen before anyone can say anything else. Once you reach the island, you brace your palms on it to keep you afloat. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath.

“Hey,” Jaemin murmurs, stopping next to you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if that was too much.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did I say something?” He furrows his eyebrows and shifts closer so you have to look at him.

“No, Jaemin, I promise. Everything’s good. I just need a minute.” You run your fingers through your hair and glance around the room. “Do you have water bottles?”

“In the fridge,” he replies.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he rests his back on the edge of the island, watching you as you grab one. You twist off the cap and take a sip.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. That was never my intention.” Jaemin sighs.

“Regardless of your intention, I’m not uncomfortable. Everyone’s just so…different. But the same. And I missed you guys, you know? I missed Saturday nights and being around my favorite people, but it’s…Forget it. Please.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Come back out whenever you’re ready, then.”

Jaemin walks away from you, looking back once over his shoulder before he disappears around the corner. You bury your head in your hands, but you refuse to let anyone think you’re upset. About anything. Jaemin especially.

You take another drink of water before you follow him out to the living room. When you make it back to your spot between Hyuck and Yeeun, he leans over to whisper, “I got up to follow you and he looked like he would rip my head off if I moved another muscle.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure.”

Shortly after that incident, Jiyoon finally shows up. She’s a bit taller than Yeeun, with dyed blonde hair and brown eyes. Jisung introduces the two of you, and she greets you kindly. Mark fills her glass and hands it to her.

 You hear funny stories from Jeno, listen to Renjun scolding Jisung about something, and rest your head on Hyuck’s shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind, so you don’t plan on moving. He’s having a heated discussion about something to do with stocks with Jaemin and Mark. You happily tune them out, because you have no idea what they’re talking about.

You finish your glass of wine and pour yourself another one. Chenle’s taken care of most of the charcuterie board by now, and Yeeun is showing him videos on her phone. You take a moment to appreciate everyone around you, something you never did before, and realize change may not be a bad thing.

Yes, everyone is different, but so are you. It’s magical when people grow up in the same direction, even past time, distance, and space. They’re all the same at their core, but older. Wiser. Happier. More mature.

You’re on your third glass by the time the night deepens. It must be past ten o’clock at this point, but you don’t feel tired at all. You’re surprised when Chenle and Yeeun leave first. They both hug you on their way out.

Apparently, they broke the seal, because Jisung and Jiyoon are next, followed closely by Renjun. Jeno doesn’t leave until eleven, and Mark and Donghyuck are packing up to leave as well.

“Do you need a ride home?” Hyuck asks.

“I’m okay.” You shake your head. “I’ll leave in a few minutes, don’t worry.”

He hesitates, but eventually listens to you. You’re left alone with Jaemin, much to your surprise, and he’s not kicking you out at the first opportunity he gets.

“Did you want help cleaning up?” you question.

“There’s not much to clean,” Jaemin replies, standing from his seat. “I won’t say no to help though.”

“Of course.” You chuckle and get up, brushing off your jeans. 

Grabbing a few of the glasses, you carry them into the kitchen and put them by the sink. Between the two of you, you’ve got everything in the kitchen within a few minutes.

“I’m glad you came,” Jaemin says, running the water to rinse out the dishes.

“Me too.” It’s not a lie. You love being in this group, but you wonder if there was a better way to ease back in.

“I…Can I say something?” he asks. “If it’s too weird, you can tell me no.”

“By all means.”

“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m not bitter and I don’t hate you. I missed you a lot, actually. But I don’t want you to think you can’t come around because of me.” He pauses, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m really proud of you. Of all the things you’ve accomplished, and I know we couldn’t have done the same things if we had stayed together.”

You don’t mean to let out a relieved breath, but his words take a weight off your shoulders. “Thank you, Jaem. I’m proud of you too.”

“Have one more drink with me? For old times’ sake?” 

“I’d love that.”

So that’s how you end up next to Jaemin on his couch, his feet kicked up on his coffee table. You make jokes, talk about everyday things, but the more you drink, the more you crave to know about the past, about what happened after you left.

“Is the past off-limits?” You turn to look at him, almost blushing when you realize how close his face is to yours.

“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “But for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one.”

“That sounds like a good deal.” You smile. “But you go first.”

He gives you a half-smile before pursing his lips as he thinks. “Was it easy for you? Over there, I mean.”

“I wouldn’t say it was easy. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact experience because things are so different here…but I don’t think I’d go back. It was a good experience, and I loved it, but this is where I belong.” You stop, contemplating your own question. “How were you?”

“Is complete honesty okay?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“It’s preferred, actually.” You take another sip.

“It took me a long time to recover. And I don’t want to make you feel bad, because what’s done is done, and we both needed the room to grow. You know, if you never hurt, you’ll never learn. Life is full of learning experiences. But yeah, I was a mess for a while. I loved you long after you left.” He smiles, as if loving you is a fond memory. “Do you miss me?”

Present tense. Miss. Not did you miss me, but do you miss me.

You chuckle, pursing your lips. “Yeah, I do.”

When you meet his gaze again, you see the soft look he gave you whenever he saw you before. He gulps, wetting his lips. Your heart twists in your chest as you realize what this means for you. No matter how much time passes, you’ll never stop loving Jaemin. It doesn’t matter how far apart you’ve been or for how long, because all of you yearns for all of him.

Your voice shakes when you ask your next question. “Where would we be if I hadn’t left? If I changed that, would everything be different?”

“Um.” He’s only inches away from you, studying your face with fervor. “In my mind, I definitely thought we’d be married by now. In love and happy, making babies that hopefully look more like you.”

You try not to let the tears form, but they sting your eyes anyway.

“Is that what you wanted?” he whispers.

“Well, I kinda wanted them to look more like you, but yeah.” You laugh as a tear falls, and you move to wipe it away, but Jaemin beats you to it. His thumb swipes across your cheek.

You’re not sure what’s happening between the two of you, but every part of you craves this.

“We were pretty great, huh?”

“Is that your question?” He smiles. “Because yeah, we were.”

“If that was mine, that one counted as yours too.” You lean into his touch, letting the warmth seep through your skin. “God, I wish it had been you. I wish you were the one.”

His lips part, but it sounds as if his words catch in his throat. He blinks rapidly for a second, gulping. “Who said I can’t be?”

He leans closer.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your heart drops, but you give him a tiny nod, aching for him. “Jaemin.”

He stops right before your mouths connect, and he lets out a sigh.

“Jaemin,” you repeat. “I have to say something first.”

“Okay.”

“I thought I got over you, but it’s only because I didn’t see you for years. Being with you right now…I might still love you, and if you’re not kissing me for the same reasons, we should stop before we both get hurt again.” You clench your eyes shut, refusing to look at him while you make a fool of yourself.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond, kissing you hard. You melt into him, much like the ways you used to.

He shifts to cup both of your cheeks, his mouth working against yours in that perfect harmony you’d only ever found with him. You grasp onto his sleeves. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours.

“I…” he trails off, wetting his lips. “I want you.”

His voice is raspy as he says it, and it sends heat between your legs. You clench your thighs together.

“Me too,” you reply. “I want you, too.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course.” You lean forward to kiss him, and as your lips meet his, he pulls you onto his lap. Straddling him, you weave your fingers in his hair and hold him close to you.

His hands dip down to your ass, squeezing it and pushing you a bit forward. You groan when you feel his tongue slide across your bottom lip, and you give him access. Without a fight, you let him dominate your mouth. When you grind down, you gasp when you feel him hardening beneath you.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers, only breaking the kiss for a split second.

He lets out a small whine when you pull away from him, but he’s quickly silenced when you tug your blouse over your head. While he stares at your black lace bra, you work on unbuttoning his shirt.

 “Not here,” he interrupts you, grabbing your hands. “There’s only one place I want to have you right now.”

He stands, holding onto you tightly while you wrap your legs around his waist. For a brief second, you think about what Hyuck would say to you right now—if he would be okay with it or if he would call it a mistake—but you chase the thought away as fast as it comes.

Jaemin carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He sets you delicately onto his bed, the familiar softness making you sigh. After he finishes taking his shirt off, he climbs on top of you, kissing your cheek, your jawline, down the pulse thundering in your neck, your collarbone, the swells of your breasts. He leaves marks on them before continuing his descent.

And then he’s at the hem of your jeans. He looks up at you, eyebrows raised. “Can I?”

“Please.”

Jaemin is a unique lover. He memorizes all the things you love, what makes you tick, and what he can do to elevate your pleasure. You’ve never had to fake it with him.

“It’s been a while for me,” he mutters. “It might not be…the best.” He clears his throat awkwardly, but pops the button and unzips the zipper.

“I’ll be happy with whatever you can give me,” you say.

His confidence returns after that, and he moves to tug your pants down your legs. You try your best to help him get them off of you, and he finally makes it back between your legs. He rubs his thumb over the obvious wet spot in your panties, humming to himself.

“Time doesn’t change how wet you get for me, huh?” He tsks, pressing a kiss to your clit through the fabric.

When he tugs them down, he admires you before leaning forward. You don’t expect the electric shock you feel when his mouth comes in contact with your core, but it has your back arching when he’s hardly done anything. Your hand immediately finds his hair, gripping it.

His tongue slides along your entrance, barely dipping inside before flicking your clit. He teases you like this a few times, but then his lips wrap around your sensitive bud and he sucks. His fingers trail up your thigh, and he extracts a moan from you when he pushes them inside you.

You inadvertently clench your thighs around his head. He moans against you, the vibrations sending pleasure shooting up your spine. You don’t mean to push him closer to you, but you can’t help it. Everything inside you feels like it’s crumbling and coming together at the same time under his ministrations.

You writhe much more than you should, and if it were anyone other than Jaemin, you’d be embarrassed.

“You taste so good,” he groans against you, thrusting his fingers faster. “So beautiful when you drip for me like this.”

He curls his fingers, and you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your pleasure. One last flick of his tongue on your clit has your back arching, the bubble bursting inside you as you grind into his face.

After he’s helped you ride through your high, you sit up, sending him back a bit. You quickly reach for his pants, squeezing the prominent bulge before undoing the button and zipper. He steps out of them , pulling you toward the edge of the bed.

“We don’t have to,” he says, breathless. “We can wait if you’re not sure.”

“Jaem,” you reply, cupping his cheeks. “I’ve never wanted you more than I do right now.” You tug him down, kissing him with all your might. You taste yourself on him, but it does little to bother you. All you want is him.

His tongue explores your mouth while he finds the clasp of your bra. He pulls it away from you, guiding you back down onto the bed. His kiss trails down once more, stopping at your breast so he can take your nipple into his mouth. He swirls it, teeth gently scraping.

Finally, he’s shoving his underwear down and grabbing a condom from his nightstand. He rolls it on before joining you on the bed once more, and you feel his tip prodding at your entrance.

“You’re absolutely sure?” He pauses, giving as serious of a look as he can muster. “If we do this, you’re mine again, you know that, right?”

“I’ve always been yours, Jaemin,” you remind him, lifting your hips. “That never changed.”

You barely have time to finish your sentence before he’s pushing inside you, face contorting with pleasure as he bottoms out. Heart pounding, you grip onto his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist.

“You okay?” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your neck. His eyelashes flutter across your skin, your body already slightly sticky from a thin sheen of sweat from your first indescribable high.

“Please move,” you whimper.

Jaemin moves slowly at first, allowing you both to get used to the feeling of being connected again. It’d be a long while since you’d done anything, too. He pants, nipping and sucking at the sensitive part of your throat.

His hips rock steadily, making sure to press as deep as he can every time. You're already a moaning mess below him, holding onto him for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’m not gonna last long.”

In response, you tighten your legs around him and flip him over, leaving him on his back and you on top. His eyes trail all over your body. You roll your hips. He sits up, grabbing your waist and pressing your chest against his, his dark, hardened gaze meeting yours as if this is a challenge.

“Lay back,” you tell him, running your hand down the hard planes of his chest as you gently push him back down. “Just watch.”

He gulps, but does as you say. His hands relax on you and he allows you to set your own pace. You lift up, shuddering at how he feels rubbing on your walls. His fingers twitch as if he wants to pull you back down.

“Baby,” he groans.

You set a steady pace, a bit faster than what his was. He traces down your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he moves downward until his thumb is pressed to your clit. You bite your lip to stop your moan, leaning back and bracing yourself on his thighs. He’s a mess beneath you, pleasure written across his face. It makes you want to do more, to work harder to bring him to his edge.

You’re so wet, slick sounds of him entering you fill the silence between sounds of euphoria. His thumb glides back and forth so easily, you have to pick up the speed. Everything around you begins to go fuzzy, and you know you’re approaching your second orgasm of the night much faster than you’d like.

Mid-way through your lift-up, your high hits, forcing you back down on his cock to finish with him buried deep inside, stretching you out. He sits back up, guiding you up and down as you slump onto his chest. He meets you halfway, thrusting up as he pulls you down.

He lets out a deep groan and holds you close to him, gently rocking his hips. He gasps for breath, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder.

“I love you,” Jaemin whispers. “Don’t go again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You shake your head. “I love you, too.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you both frown when you hear the elevator ding.

“Who is that?” you ask, climbing off of him on shaky legs to try and find your clothes.

“Not a clue.” Jaemin frowns, quickly disposing of the condom and putting his underwear and pants back on. He comes back to kiss your cheek. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

He walks out into his living room, but you get dressed quickly so you can follow him out. You hear him conversing with someone, but you’re not sure who it is. You’re finally back in your jeans and shirt, so you head out to check out what’s going on.

You know your hairs a mess, your makeup is definitely smeared, and your face is red, and on top of all of that, you’re coming out of Jaemin’s room. Anyone with a brain would see what’s going on.

Chenle moves over to the couch and grabs a purse, which is presumably Yeeun’s, and claps Jaemin on the shoulder before he notices you.

“(Y/N)?” He blinks in surprise, glancing between you and Jaemin. “This is a new development.”

“It’s not really that new,” Jaemin says. “Um, we were kind of…busy, though. If you could…”

“Right.” Chenle shakes his head. “Right. You two have fun. Not too much fun, and make sure no one gets hurt this time, please?”

“Are you going to tell Donghyuck?” You scrunch up your nose.

“I’ll give you a twenty-four hour head start.” He grins, saluting you both. “Take care of each other, dipshits.”

You massage your forehead with a sigh, and Jaemin approaches you.

“You got dressed.” He pouts.

“Well, yeah. Somebody was here.” You chuckle.

“Were you wanting to leave?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s okay if you do, I just…thought we’d spend the night together.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you tell him. “I told you I’m not leaving you again, Jaem. I meant it.”

“Then let’s get back to bed.” Jaemin massages your shoulders gently as he guides you back to his room.

He gets you a T-shirt to wear to bed, and once you’ve changed into it, you crawl onto his mattress and wait for him to join you. Instead, he stares at you, a smile on his face.

“I never thought I’d get you like this again.”

“You were always the one for me, Jaemin. It just wasn’t the right time.” You rest your head on one of his pillows, patting the spot next to you. “Now come over here.”

He finally listens, climbing under the comforter and pulling you to him until you’re pressed into his chest.

Kissing the top of your head, he hums. “We’ll have everything we ever wanted.”

[pepsiconcoction]

Discounted Cookies | Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: barista!han jisung x gn!reaer

tags: coffee shop au, a little bit of angst, minor language, jisung is a lil flirt, reader doesn't wanna put up with it, fluff, no smut

requested? yes! by anon xox

an: i actually don't know how i feel about this, but it's cute regardless, anon i hope i captured what u meant, i tried my best to get reader to be Annoyed but i love jisung too much, sorry ;-;

wc: 3,890

4 times Jisung flirted with you + 1 time you flirted with him.

The first time you see him.

It’s a few minutes past midnight and you think this might be your end. You’re going to pass out, for sure. You had been studying at the library for the past 7 hours straight for an exam worth 60% of your grade. Studying Law was definitely a choice. Specifically, it was the choice you made two and a half years ago, resulting in you, at this moment, halfway through your third year and on the brink of a breakdown. The breakdown? Partially caused by your ex-boyfriend, who had just broken up with you no more than five days ago. You’re fine. People keep asking. You really wish they would stop.

In the distance, you spot a flood of warm, yellow light flooding out of a shop window. As you get closer, you recognise it’s a coffee shop, you think it may even be the one your friend had told you about, saying it was her favourite place to study as it’s open 24 hours. It seems tonight is the night you’re finally going to check it out.

It’s kind of snowy at your feet, thanks to the early month of the year, but you wish it was more picturesque and not just the grey slush that you think you can feel leaking through your boots. At least it’ll be nice to get some warmth for a few minutes.

You push open the door, a small bell jingling above your head, and the warmth hits you like a wall, suffocating in its intensity. There’s only one other person in here: an old trucker-looking guy, face held over a steaming cup of coffee. 

“I’ll be out in a second!” You hear a man shout from behind the counter, you guess he’s even further in the back than you can see. You hear a small commotion that sounds a bit like someone stamping on a cardboard box. A few seconds later, a guy appears, slightly dishevelled and running his hands through his hair as he exhales. His hair parts in the middle and brushes his eyebrows, slightly longer around the edges, as if gone uncut for a few months. A friendly face with round cheeks looks at you, a grin appearing on his face. He brushes down his apron and makes his way to the counter.

“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?” he asks.

“Just an Americano to go, please,” You smile back at him.

“Can I offer you any discounted sweet treats?” He gestures to an almost empty cake counter. “They’re discounted because it’s so late, not because they’re bad.” He quickly adds on. You spot a singular chocolate cookie looking very lonely.

“Sure, I’ll take the cookie,” you say, gesturing to it. 

“Good choice, madam.” He nods his head, punching it into the register.

“Can I take a name?”

“Do you need it?” You ask, looking around at the empty store.

“Not really, but I’d like it.” He shrugs.

“Y/n,” you sigh. This isn’t what you were looking for at the moment, but you decide to just let it go.

“Not having a good day?” he asks, seemingly concerned.

“Not having a good week,” you say flatly, hoping to communicate your disinterest.

“Well, Y/n, feel free to take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you once it’s done.” He grins again and spins around, getting to work on the coffee machine. God, who even has this much energy this late at night? Crazy people, that’s who.

You sit down at one of the tables, taking out your phone and it reads 12:17am. It feels like it’s mocking you. You scroll through your socials, attempting to keep what small semblance of a social life you think you have together, but a few minutes later, a familiar barista comes into your view. You stand up, accepting the coffee from him and he hands you the cookie which is now in a brown, paper bag.

“One Americano, and one discounted cookie.” He hands you each and you stand up, thanking him. 

“And maybe a little extra something, since you’re having a bad week and all,” he adds quietly, shuffling on his feet slightly. You peek inside the bag and notice a candy bar, something chocolatey. 

“Thank you,” You stutter, not expecting the kind gesture.

“Come back again soon!” He says, already heading back to the counter where he starts to mess with something, in a clear attempt to look busy. You turn and 

leave. Despite the cold air outside, there is an unfamiliar warmth in your body.

The second time you see him.

You wake up the next day, surprisingly on time despite the lack of alarm. It’s only 10am and you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead of you. The exam is in 5 days. Thankfully you’re studying at home today, not needing the library for today’s subjects. The state of your flat reflects your mind, it’s a mess, dishes in the sink, clothes piling up next to the dryer. After an hour or so of quick chores, it’s in a slightly better state, good enough to study in, you think.

And study, you do. Day turns to night and you find yourself closing the last page of a textbook, letting out a deep breath. You could feel your anxiety beginning to fizzle around your body, not fully convinced you’ve properly ingested all the revision you’ve done. You need some food. The second half of a pizza is sitting untouched from earlier and you kinda feel bad for it, poor thing. Your eyes flicker towards the candy bar sitting on your desk, where it was abandoned last night and you think about the guy from the coffee shop. You throw on a slightly warmer outfit and you definitely don’t spend the walk to the coffee shop thinking about whether he might be working. To your surprise, he is.

You can see him behind the counter from outside, he’s pouring frothed milk into a cup, presumably for the customer standing at the counter. It’s slightly busier at this time, you’re not surprised considering it’s only just coming up to 8pm. You push open the door and the bell jingles like it did the night before. He looks up, looking past the customer in front and his mouth quirks up into a smile, recognising you instantly. You look around him, at the large menu boards, you don’t want to give him an ego. 

The customer in front pays for their drink and leaves, and the man’s smile finally points directly at you.

“Hello again, Y/n, what can I get you today?” He grins at you, eyes crinkling. You’re surprised he remembers your name.

“A latte, please,” you say, glancing up at the menu.

“To go, or sit in?” His eyebrow quirks.

“Oh, uh-”

“You’re sitting in,” he answers for you, already punching it into the register.

“Fine.” Your roll your eyes. 

“Take a seat.” He gestures to the barstool-type seating a little further down the counter. You’re not really sure why you actually sit down.

“Is your week any better?” He looks over his shoulder as he makes your drink.

“Not really, no.” You respond. He pauses in his actions, looking at you expectingly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up?” 

“We don’t know each other,” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, so my name is Jisung, Han Jisung, and today, I’m your barista. Tomorrow, maybe more!” He winks as he turns back to the machine which is spewing out your drink. 

“Well, Han Jisung, if you must know, I’m stressed the fuck out for my exam next Monday, I’ve got a practical in two days, and my boyfriend broke up with me a few days ago because I was too much for him. He was just a pathetic, weak little man, I really don’t know how I lasted that long with him.” You found yourself ranting, releasing some of the pent-up frustration you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

“Well,” Jisung starts. “that’s very fair.” He goes quiet for the remainder of the time he is making the drink, leaving a slightly awkward air around you. You focus your eyes on the counter in front of you in an attempt to ignore the stress coming back to you. All of a sudden a drink is slid across the counter.

“Is that a… squirrel?” You look from the cute latte art to the man standing across the counter from you. He looks sheepishly up at you.

“Yeah, looks like me, doesn’t it?” His grin is back, and you can feel a smile creeping onto your face.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Your eyes linger on his for a few moments, until a group of people enter the small cafe and his attention is brought away from you. You discreetly watch him as he works, greeting the customers with a big smile, and using his charisma to get an extra cake sale. You think maybe you fell for the same charisma yesterday, but you don’t really mind because the cookie was pretty good. A few minutes pass, and you sip on your drink, trying to keep the art as intact as possible. Once the last customer had been served he side steps back towards you.

“How is it? Has it fixed your week yet?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking slightly.

“I’m not sure a drink can fix my week,” you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“Nonsense! Of course, it can. Take a sip.” he gestures to you to lift the mug to your lips. You reluctantly take a sip.

“See? It’s working, no?” he chuckles. You put the cup down and try your best not to laugh.

“There’s that pretty smile!” he grins, earning a roll of your eyes. Your phone buzzes with an incoming email from your university, it’s just a random send-to-all type of email but it does remind you of your looming academic responsibilities.

“Thank you, for the squirrel,” you tell him while standing up from the stool. 

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, round eyes looking suddenly lost. 

“I’ve got work to do, I’ll see you around.”

“You better.” His grin is wide as he watches you leave, hoping you do come back soon.

The third time you see him.

“We crushed it!” You celebrate with your best friend, the two of you have just partaken in a mock legal trial as part of an assessment. Your Professor had wanted to challenge the class, setting up fake suspects and witnesses, and had even arranged for a court stenographer to be present. Your group had won the case, despite the opposing team putting up a pretty tough fight.

“Did you see the look on the judged face when you caught out the lying witness? I was trying so hard not to say something.” Your friend gushes, talking faster than you could keep up with.

“I know!” You laugh but break into a yawn as the previous nights studying catches up with you once the excitement is over.

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Absolutely.” 

You’re so engrossed in the conversation as the two of you walk that you don’t even realise you’ve made it all the way to the familiar coffee shop. You stop in your tracks a few feet from the door.

“Not here,” you groan.

“Why not? This place does the best coffee on campus.” She looks confused as she turns back to you.

“I always see the same barista, and he always hits on me, I just can’t be bothered today.” You whine a little, trying to convince her.

“Well, is he working right now?” 

You take a step further, enough to look through the window and see the counter. There is a man, but it’s not Jisung.

“I don’t see him.” You trail off, scanning the rest of the shop as much as you can see.

“Alright then, we’re getting coffee here.” Your friend grabs you by the hand and practically pulls you into the small cafe. There is a surprising queue, so you continue to just make conversation with her until you’re next at the counter. The barista who serves you has curly, black hair and biceps that honestly look like they’re about to burst his sleeves. He greets both of you with a smile and begins to punch your orders into the register.

“Changbin! Catch!” You hear a familiar voice. Your heart sinks to your ass. The barista serving you, Changbin, turns back and looks towards the door into the back. Peeking around the cake stand, you catch a glimpse of Jisung. He’s hanging onto the door with a container of what looks like soya milk. He throws it, and Changbin catches it.

“Sorry about that, our delivery was late this morning and only just arrived, so it’s a bit crazy right now,” Changbin explains, replacing an empty soya milk container.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” You shrug. He finishes taking your order and the two of you move to the side to wait.

“He’s kind of fit,” your friend leans into you to say, once you’re both out of earshot.

“In more ways than one.” you giggle.

Your attention is quickly averted towards the door to the backroom, particularly to Jisung who is rushing out of it and towards the counter, tying his apron at the same time. 

“Sorry Bin, it’s a nightmare back there.” He says, getting to work on coffee orders.

“No worries, we’re not too busy anymore, the rush seems to be over.” You realise that you and your friend were the last in the queue and the cafe has died down a little since you first entered. Jisung also takes a quick glance around, and that’s when he spots you.

“Y/n,” he says. “Back to see me so soon?” His lips turn up into a small smirk.

“You wish.” You roll your eyes. He just laughs and turns back to the coffee machine. You look at your friend and give her a look, the look you get in return translates to 'message received'. 

“He’s kinda cute,” she whispers to you, thankfully you were far away enough for her not to be heard. You sighed. He is kind of cute but that’s not what you’re looking for right now. You’re in a weird enough head space as it is with all the stress of law school and the breakup, not even two weeks ago! You can’t seriously be thinking about dating so soon. Right…?

You’re ripped from your thoughts by the very same man that caused them.

“A white hot chocolate?” Jisung announces to the two of you, but he’s looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You step up to the counter and begin to take it.

“You’re looking very fancy today, big plans?” he asks, smiling.

“I had a mock trial this morning.” You say and he looks at you with wide eyes, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You know, like a court trial?” you ask.

“Law! That’s what you’re studying.” He finally realises.

“I didn’t say?” You’re now the one who’s confused.

“No, you never, I’ve been trying to figure it out, trying to guess.” he laughs. Changbin appears next to him and slides an espresso onto the counter, your friend stepping over to take it.

“Bin, they’re a lawyer! Isn’t that cool?” Jisung gushes a little, looking back at you with big eyes. 

“They won their trial this morning.” Your friend interrupts before you can say anything. You shoot her a look.

“Really?” The big, sparkling doe eyes are back as he leans against the counter.

“I, uh, yeah,” you stutter a little.

“Wow, that’s so cool.”

“Sung, I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt with our customers.” Changbin walks back towards the coffee machine and he begins prepping another order. 

“You don’t pay me at all, you’re not even a manager!” Jisung starts whining as he stands up properly. He turns back to you.

“Enjoy your drinks!” He says. You take this as your queue to leave and make a beeline out of the coffee shop, drink in hand. Your friend follows behind you, honestly a little confused.

Once you’re a safe distance from the shop, you finally feel able to breathe again. 

The fourth time you see him.

Beep… beep… beep…

Your alarm. You reach over and turn it off, groaning as you roll back over, the feeling of dread already seeping into your bones. It’s the morning of the exam. The exam you’ve been dreading. The exam that is responsible for 60% of your grade. You groan again.

You feel heavy as you walk around your flat, attempting to get ready for the day ahead of you. It doesn’t help that you broke the fundamental exam rule of getting a good night’s sleep, tossing and turning until eventually passing out. So many textbooks have been haunting your thoughts that you barely noticed you’ve also been thinking about something else. Or rather someone else.

You can’t stop, he keeps popping up in your mind. His round face, and big smile. You feel yourself smiling just thinking about it. But fuck, it feels wrong. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. You don’t have time! You have a big exam, which conveniently starts in just over an hour. 

You need a coffee.

You get to the familiar coffee shop at 11:31am. Your exam starts at noon. It takes 20 minutes to walk to the campus building it’s being held at. You probably don’t have time for this. 

You see him. He’s behind the counter. You think your head hurts.

“Hey,” he greets you with that smile again. You feel sick. “What can I getcha?”

“Just a black coffee, to go.” Your voice croaks a little from its lack of use.

“You’re not staying with me?” He smirks, punching it into the register.

“No.”

You see him falter a little at your cold tone. His eyebrows quirk down a little.

“Are you alright?” he asks as you swipe your phone to pay.

“Stop it, Jisung. Can’t you just leave me alone today, God,” you say exasperated, and step away from the counter. You try to ignore the hurt look in his eye and you really try to ignore the way he shrunk in on himself. A different member of staff you’ve never seen before hands you the drink and you leave the coffee shop without looking back at him. 

The exam goes terribly. At least it feels like it goes terribly. Your head is a mess, the guilt chewing at you the entire time. You do your best, writing everything you recall but by the end of it you have a decent headache and the pit in your gut has grown. You leave the exam and go home, collapsing in your bed and you fall asleep telling yourself you’ll feel better when you wake up.

The fifth time you see him.

You wake up in the afternoon the next day. 

You don’t feel much better. Not after binging on a pizza and your favourite chocolate. Not after watching that movie that makes you cry every time. Not even after you’ve journaled about it. You think that particular journal entry is mostly scrambled nonsense. It probably is.

You decide to go for a walk to clear your head. Maybe the cold, winter air will freshen you up, and make you feel a bit better. With a big coat and a warm scarf wrapped around you, you walk into the evening air, it’s already past 11pm so you mostly see young people out drinking despite the weather. You have no destination but of course, you end up there.

The warm, yellow-toned light pours from the window as usual. The bell above the door is jarring to your fragile little heart. 

He’s there.

He has his back to you, cleaning some sort of container in the sink. 

“Two seconds!” he sing-songs. You don’t respond. A few seconds later he’s done and spins around to you. His eyes widen a little and then drop.

“Hi.” He steps towards the register.

“Hi,” you respond.

“Would you like something to drink?” his tone is passive, despite his words being polite. 

“A hot chocolate, please, to sit in.” You try to smile at him, he focuses on the register. He nudges the card reader towards you as he steps away to get started on your drink. You move towards the bar-stool seating you sat on previously.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. He looks back to you.

“Go ahead,” he glances back at you. You take a seat and look around, and you realise for the first time that you’re the only person in here, apart from Jisung. You look back towards him just as he put the cup down in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smile again, he gives you a small one but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns away and starts fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Jisung, can I talk to you?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” He says without turning around.

“Please.”

 That gets him to turn around at least, even if he is still looking at anything but you. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I was just a mess, and that’s not an excuse but I need you to know I didn’t mean it,” you trail off, picking up your drink and taking a sip, appreciating its sweetness. 

“And to be honest, I kind of miss the flirty Jisung. I was beginning to like him.” You take another sip of your hot chocolate, smirking to yourself when you see his head shoot up toward you.

“You do?” His eyes soften a little when you nod.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But it’s okay. To be honest, I probably was coming on weirdly strong, huh?” He scratches the back of his neck while you chuckle.

There is a moment of silence as you look down at your hot chocolate. Until a thought sparks in your head.

“Why do you flirt with me?” 

“What?” His eyes widen and the poor guy looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

“Why do you flirt with me? Or do you just flirt with anyone?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No! I don’t, it’s really just you, and I don’t know why, I just kinda… liked you? I mean, you seemed cool and nice and definitely my type.” He catches himself rambling. 

“I’m your type?” You ask, smirking.

“Well, yeah.” he chuckles. You laugh too.

“Han Jisung, I think we should go on a date.” You say, definitively. 

“Really?!” He stands up from where he was leaning against the back counter and crosses towards you.

“Actually, never mind.” You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“Do not play with my heart like this, I’m sensitive!” he clutches at his chest dramatically, making you laugh louder.

“Fine, but I get to pick where we’re going.”

“Deal! Just tell me a time and I’ll be there.” His grin tells you that he will live up to that. You fall into another silence as you hold each other’s gaze, just smiling.

“Hey, Y/n, you want a discounted cookie?”

“I’d love one.”

taglist - @lethallyprotected

[hiemaldesirae]

thinking of a witch/fae radiostatic au after rereading some of my guilty pleasure fandom fics hhhhhnneuhg

basically the gist of it is, unseelie king alastor gets kidnapped by witch vox's village and now vox needs to figure out how to keep alastor from dying because his death means the rest of the court coming for blood while also trying to make sure the fae king doesnt try and fucking eat him or something. oh also they knew each other before.

Vox's mother always used to say, there's comfort in routine.

Perhaps that's why Vox finds himself redoing the same three-card spread over and over, despite always managing to get the same results. He chews on his fingernails as he frowns harder, reshuffling once more.

"Whatcha doing?" Angel Dust, the only other witch in the village, pops up behind him, startling Vox, who sighs and relaxes once he realizes who's behind him. "I thought you were busy helping the healers, man. Are you just doing tarot readings while we're working ourselves ta' the bone?"

Vox frowns, pressing his lips together.

He doesn't have anything against Angel, really, it's just difficult talking to people who aren't Vel or Val. And maybe it's more difficult talking to Angel because of his relationship with Val, but that isn't something he's willing to admit in front of his best friend's boyfriend. "Well, I got basically put on house arrest today because apparently, the fae they brought back was so strong they didn't trust me not to get too interested in them and throw the whole plan off."

"Couldn't they've least stationed ya with the healers? You can serve that house arrest after we make sure no one's dead," Angel groans. "I mean, didya see the state everyone came back in?"

He had. Vox had watched with white knuckles as they'd brought Velvette and Valentino's unconscious forms across to the healers lodge and tents, doing and redoing protection spells around their home and the village wards. He had wanted to help as soon as he'd seen them, but the village chief had ordered for him specifically to stay home.

So he'd busied himself with tarot cards. But it seemed even that wasn't working out for him, because...

"Oh, shit. This is... a pretty fuckin' bad spread, ain't it?"

"You tell me," Vox grouses. He shuffles the cards again and tries another time, only for those same three cards to appear again as if mocking him. Three of Swords. The Tower. And of course, Death.

Now, of the three, death was probably the most positive card of the spread. All it meant was change- not necessarily as dark as its name. But the tower and three of swords... well. Those only spelt out foreboding fates.

"What didya even ask?"

"It's about the fae they brought in." Vox taps his hand against the counter before starting to reorganize his cards. No sense in leaving them out now, after all: their message had been clear and simple. This was a mistake. You're all fucked. "Apparently, they're on par with royalty. Which as you can probably guess, isn't very well known for their kind tempers. So I was doing readings to try and see what might happen from keeping them here, and..."

Angel grimaces. "So... you're saying that we're fucked, basically?"

"You can do your own reading if you want," Vox says cryptically as he stands up, stretching his limbs. "Anyway, I'm going to go and strengthen the protection shield on the village wards. Not much else to do while I'm stuck here, anyway."

"Right... well, guess I'll see ya round then."

"Mm, see you."

When Angel leaves, Vox breathes a sigh of relief. He unclenches his hand to regard the skeleton key he'd stolen from the chief hours earlier on complete autopilot, hardly even realizing he'd taken the damn thing til he'd gotten back home and started performing frantic readings.

It was the key to the village cellar, a place located on the edge of town. Vox, Val and Vel lived closest to it- which worked out well, considering of the three of them, two were part of the village's elite fae hunting brigade and the last was one of the villages only two witches, and the more experienced one at that. He supposed, given the circumstances, that the fae who'd beaten his friends to a pulp was probably down there. And, well... Vox was nothing if deathly curious.

So that night, on a half moon, Vox quietly exits the house, being sure not to accidentally trip an alarm on the way. He makes his way to the outdoors cellar and unlocks the door, making his way downstairs into a damp and cramped room. His eyes are immediately drawn to the large iron cage hanging in the dead centre of the room, sucking in a breath as he takes a small step back. The cage is impressive, but what's inside of it...

A mass of shadows writhe and twist around a restrained figure, dispersing slightly around where the fae's eyes must be. Vox flinches back when a ghostly grey-black hand reaches out for him, its dark tipped claws so sharp he's sure the fae could have sliced him to ribbons had they not been restrained by their shackles and prison.

It serves its purpose: Vox is immediately and incredibly intimidated. Having said that, he came here for a reason, and he's not so much of a fucking coward that he'd simply flee with his tail between his legs at the first sight of an adverse reaction from the captured faerie.

"Hey, uh... I know you probably don't believe me- and you probably shouldn't, honestly, but- er, I'm here to help you. As much as I can, anyway." Vox raises his hands up in the air as he moves slowly toward the cage, keenly aware of the fae's fixed gaze on him all the while.

He reaches out and slowly, cautiously, places a small, dead rabbit on the precipice of the cage's platform. It was one he'd caught with a trap that afternoon, under the excuse of storing away fresh meat for Velvette and Valentino when they returned- but, well, there were other animals he'd caught, too. They wouldn't miss one tiny rabbit.

The shadow cloaked faerie regards the mound of fresh meat for only a second before jerking forwards and swallowing it whole.

Vox watches with rapt attention, mesmerized by the faeries brutality. He almost doesn't notice when the fae turns to address him, voice raw and scratchy and deeper than the ocean. "What did you do that for?"

"Cause..." Vox worries at his lip.

He doesn't really want to lie to the fae- he's not dumb, alright, that'd be a practical death wish, even if he was lying with good intent- but he's also not so sure how it will react to being told he only did it out of curiosity. Because he wanted to see just what it was that his reading deemed so dangerous to their little town. "I guess... I wanted to see what was so strong that they took down half the village guard."

The fae startles at this. The shadows surrounding their cage shrinks back a little, finally unveiling enough of their appearance for Vox to put a face to a... well, for Vox to get a good look at them.

Dark reddish brown hair with black streaks at the edges sharpen into pointed deer ears, with two short buck antlers growing from the fae's head. They have deep crimson eyes, tinged with flecks of bright green- it pairs well with their skin, a deep, rich brown that reminds Vox of rich autumn soil at the harvest. He's... pretty sure this fae is a man, but appearances can be deceiving, and he's not quite keen on being cursed for assuming blindly.

"Hm. Well, you weren't among the host that came to attack me, were you now?" The faerie's eyes narrow as Vox stutters out a faint no, babbling out excuses to lead them away from the conclusion of him being a witch (and thus always placed under pseudo-house arrest when time comes for a fae hunt). "Then, you don't realize what a mistake your village has made, do you, dear?"

Vox pauses. "What do you mean, mistake?"

The room's temperature drops almost the moment the question falls from his lips, and Vox pulls his cloak closer to himself as he distances himself from the cage, willing his arms to stop trembling as he watches. The shadows around the fae pull close again and coalesce into a cape of sorts, rising above the faerie as they entwine themselves around the fae's head, almost like- almost like-

A crown.

"Oh, shit."

The Unseelie Fae King gives Vox a tight lipped smile. "So, do you see now?"

Well. At least that answered what the tarot cards were trying to tell him.

[dingodad]

Does anyone remember that Lord English himself isn’t even composed of the original versions of the souls that make him? He’s the son of paradox clones, right? That means B2 Jack is the one who actually contains the original souls of Lord English, since he was directly possessed. English has been diluted by being a paradoxical copy, and being part cueball. His creation is not unlike that of breeding Genesis frogs. (The end frog does not chronologically branch off from the original frogs, he is a paradoxical copy of all of them combined. I’d argue that he’s almost like the inverse to a Genesis frog.) So the destiny of the original Caliborn, Equius, Lil Hal and Gamzee is to be decapitated by Dave and explode into a black hole. Caliborn brags about how he will become all powerful, but he will doesn’t get to do that. The paradox slime version of himself born in a lab is destined to become the laser skull epilepsy pharoah hulk man, not him. Not that any of this really matters or changes that much, I just noticed that it was odd. This all adds up right? I didn’t forget anything that would make this not make sense?

you are, on a technical level, completely right: at no point in the Pharaoh Hulk's* timeline was he ever literally Lil Cal. he emerges straight from Doc Scratch, who was only ever a clone of Lil Cal. but you're making a critical error by thinking of the Hulk and B2 Jack as if they're meant to be two different guys.

*I've always known this iteration of Lord English as the "Mobster Hulk" version - google seems to be telling me it's basically only my posts that use this phrasing but I'm guessing I must have picked it up on the forums.

I won't give you the long-winded explanation about Ultimate Selves and how it's the idea of a person that matters more than the specific body they inhabit because I already have about a dozen posts on the subject and I'm sure everyone's sick of hearing it by now. so I wanna focus on two specific and related reasons why "Real Lord English" and "Copy of Lord English" is a false dichotomy, based specifically in an area of Homestuck's worldbuilding that doesn't really get talked about so much:

Jack Noir's version of Lil Cal is just a copy too! Roxy banished the one containing Lord English's soul into nonexistence, so that in Caliborn's words it will "FLUTTER THROUGH THE SHADOWS FOR ETERNITY. SURFACING IN THE NIGHTMARES OF THE UNSUSPECTING." Gamzee is not a Thief of Void, he can't steal things back out of the darkness; he's simply a psychic whose chucklevoodoos can "amplify fears through dreams." The Lil Cal that emerges in Dave's dreams, is adopted by his Bro, and one day makes the journey to Jack's prison cell is just a manifestation of Dave's fear of puppets; the one that Roxy banished is still out there.

First rule of jujus, bro: "THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE!" "if there ever appears to be more than one of the same, it is only a mirage of caUsality!"

cultured readers will be able to draw the line between the two phrases i've put special emphasis on. Homestuck uses the terms existing terms "voodoo" and "juju" to deliberately evoke an anthropological concept which is found around the world but is most pop-culturally associated with African and Afro-Carribean spirituality: Lil Cal is a fetish. his power comes not from the fact that he is composed of some special material (or because, as you suggest, he has some kind of unique or special genes), but from the fact that spiritual power is ascribed to him. think of a religious idol; there can be a million idols to the same one deity, but the power of each idol will be exactly the same, because each has the same spiritual significance.

put in overly-simplistic terms which aren't necessarily accurate but speak to a recurring theme in Homestuck: a juju works because of the belief that it works.

this is what Calliope and Caliborn mean when they speak of "bad juju", some kind of mystical force which Lil Cal is filled with. the "juju" isn't the object at all; it's an enchantment associated with the object. Calliope says a juju can't ever be destroyed, and yet Lil Cal is torn to shreds and repaired on multiple occasions - it's the magic, the juju, that persists. this is the only way an object with a self-perpetuating origin could possibly exist, or else the object would just keep becoming more and more worn with each loop of its timeline.

Scratch and Caliborn both say it: "Instances of [Scratch] have spawned in countless universes", just as Lil Cal will continue to infiltrate the dreams of infinite children and take Caliborn "FROM UNIVERSE. TO UNIVERSE. TO UNIVERSE." importantly, it's implied actually quite early on in the comic that you can't really "clone" a "soul", because paradox clones kind of follow similar rules to jujus; there can only be one TRUE clone, who will always travel back in time to become their own origin, and all other clones are "MALFORMED MUTANTS" with no bearing on the timeline. so the exact circumstances through which Cal arrives in each universe, be it via ectobiology or clown voodoo, don't matter: every copy is either a) inert or b) actually the same Lil Cal at a different point in its circuitous timeline.

in other words - thanks to a time loop of his own orchestration! - all versions of Lord English have to be decapitated and/or collapse into a black hole at the end of their lifespan because they all have to ultimately return to the void. you're really not that far off the mark in that there is a tragedy in the fact that Caliborn believes he will "GET STRONGER. AND OLDER. AND BIGGER. AND BUFFER!" each time he destroys a universe. the tragedy is just that he thinks turning into Mobster Hulk is the end goal when in fact by making himself immortal he has ensured there IS no end goal: he's trapped being reborn as new Lil Cals in new universes forever and ever. no matter how many brief excursions he takes out into the universe to play the villain, his essence is trapped in the void for all time.

[5eraphim]

NOT SURE IF ANYONE ELSE REQ THIS.... nsfw yandere emesis blue Medic please !! He was literally so caring and kind at the beginning and watching him delve into madness and being like.. that ...was so hot and so good for yandere material! thank u :D

ALRIGHTY! so this one's a little different than what I usually write, and honestly, Medic doesn't have much yandere-behavior until the final scene, but I hope you enjoy, thank you so much for the request!

(This is meant to take place during chapter 5, after he tries to revive Scout in the respawn machine, sees himself over Scout's Ma's body, gets burned by Pyro and is hiding out in a Chapel. And before he's found by Spy and Soldier.)

Title: Heaven Waits

Character: Emesis Blue! Medic 🕊️

Rating: X, MINORS DNI! GO PLAY OUTSIDE!

Content Warnings: Slight spoilers for Emesis Blue, Sad Medic, asphyxiation, sexual massage/hand bathing, gender neutral reader, yandere, oral (male receiving), angst/bad ending, religious themes, death

Word Count: 5.6k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"I fell in love with the idea that the mysterious thing you look for your whole life will eventually eat you alive." Laurie Anderson explaining her Attraction to Moby Dick

"Is this a dream?" You wondered as you listened to your footsteps echoing in the hollow nothingness stretching endlessly around you. If all this was a dream, you wanted to wake up again. What felt like hours had passed since you woke up in the fetal position on the ground with no memory of how you got here and a full canteen of water strapped around your neck. 

While you weren't hungry, thirsty, or tired, you were overwhelmed by a bewildering sense of loneliness, an anxiety in isolation that only intensified the longer you plodded along. You were almost sure this was a dream, given the surreal lack of life around you, no other humans, no buzzing insects, chirping birds, or scurrying of some mammal- just you and the sound of the wind. The world around you appeared hazy, shrouded by dark shadows, making you wonder if you were lost in civilization or the wilderness. 

Every now and then, you could hear something in the distance, some nondescript moan or growling sound like nothing you couldn't imagine making you freeze up and feel all the more helpless. But just as you were beginning to wonder if you'd been walking in circles, you could see what appeared to be a little urban outskirt in the darkened horizon. And before you could even consider if you were about to run straight into danger, you found yourself racing in the direction of quasi-familiarity. Specifically, something called you toward a squat derelict chapel a distance from the rest of the buildings. Something deep down urged you forward- convinced you were meant to go inside. Like someone was in there waiting for you, someone who could cure you of the crushing loneliness.

The sight of something recognizable filled you with hope; not only was it an actual building, but you could swear you saw the outline of a person inside. You spotted a massive hole in the building beside the shoddily boarded-up door and windows just big enough to crawl through. The chapel appeared rickety by age; the outside was veined with cracks and spotted with gaping holes of missing walls, making the building appear even more fragile. You couldn't guess how long this place was abandoned, but the idea of no longer wandering the darkness lost and alone gave you all the incentive needed to investigate the inside. 

Standing on the other side of the drafty chapel stood a tall man with a familiar silhouette, facing away from you, breaking the silence with a whisper hardly loud enough for you to hear. "Gott hilf mir."

"Medic, is that you?" While you were hopeful, the idea of finding a friendly face in the confusing nightmare you'd awoken in seemed too good to be true, and you were careful not to get too close to the figure before discovering precisely who it was. As you drew closer, inch by agonizing inch, you held your breath, biting down on your lower lip nervously. Too scared to get any closer, you watched with wide, terrified eyes as the figure turned to face you, revealing himself to be exactly who you hoped, though now that you could see his face, you were struck by just how different he looked.

"I am here." Was all he had to say as you paced across the uneven chapel floors in his direction. Not only did he look different, but his voice sounded horse, hardly like the man you knew.

Medic looked years older. The bags under his eyes seemed heavier in the low lighting, and the sweat coating his face emphasized his fine lines, somehow making his face appear more gaunt. You could tell by the way he was facing the light something was off about the half of his face concealed by shadows, but you couldn't quite see. More disturbingly, as you looked down, you realized blood drenched his bare forearms and hands, staining them bright red; his vest and shirt were so soaked with blood it formed little red rivulets trailing down his pants. 

You couldn't imagine what he'd gone through before you found him. To your disappointment, he hardly reacted to your presence, watching you with dull eyes, arms slackened at his sides as he stared straight ahead through the window on the far wall. 

Pausing a few paces away, you wrung your hands together nervously, fiddling with the canteen, listening to the water quietly sloshing inside. "Medic, what happened to you?" The question was so blunt you almost felt embarrassed saying it out loud. He sighed heavily, breaking away from the window, taking a seat at the nearby pew, which creaked as he sat, slumped forward, burying his head in his hands. 

"It's Fritz."

"Huh?"Timidly you approached the bench as though waiting for permission before sitting down, though, to your disappointment, he continued to regard you with little more than melancholic disinterest. Still, he didn't pull away, which you took as an invitation to sit beside him. 

He took his glasses off, leaving them on the side of the bench away from you. Fritz used his hand to rub the sweat from his tired eyes. "It's Fritz now. I have no right to call myself a Medic. Not anymore."

You were about to say something, but he spoke first, "I can't save anyone."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing; sitting beside him on the bench with the canteen on your lap, you whispered, "You don't really believe that do you?"

"I know so." He responded, pressing his lips together into a hard line as though trying to hold in tears. Clearly, he must be referring to what he'd been through before, whatever it was you hadn't witnessed, but thinking back a little further, you remembered how hard Medic took Scout getting laid off. But you were told it was a complication regarding the respawn machine, and you couldn't understand how Fritz blamed himself for this.

"But, Medi- sorry, Fritz, you don't really blame yourself for what happened to Scout, do you?"

He nodded once solemnly, "I do."

"It wasn't your fault, I don't… Fritz, I don't understand why everything's gone insane since the respawn machine went down, but none of this is your fault! I don't know what's going on around here, but let's try and find our way back home; if we work together, we could-"

He shook his head, furrowing his brow, groaning in frustration, "You don't understand! You haven't seen what I've seen. If you knew what I've done- what I did to that poor boy, you'd never want to see me again." Fritz's voice cracked with emotion, like even saying Scout's name hurt him. 

There was no way he would tell you what he'd seen, but you refused to believe his words. "That can't be true." 

"I made Jeremy go through respawn! I knew it was dangerous, but I forced him through anyway! I was reckless- I was stupid! I'm the one who turned him into a smear of blood on the floor!" His hands balled into fists, clutching the fabric of his pants as he shouted. You could feel your stomach drop imagining what happened to Scout in this awful place, but you also felt all the more compelled to get Fritz out of here. 

Turning to lean closer to him, you reached out to touch his blood-splattered arm, pleading, "Fritz, please, don't talk like that. I don't know what you're going through, but I can't stand by and let you give up like this! Come back to base with me, I know we don't know how to fix this yet, but we can't do anything sticking around here! We need to move now!"

He looked up, eyes unfocused and haunted, speaking in a hoarse croak. "For God's sake, he was so young- He had his entire life ahead of him, and I took all that away. If his mother knew what I'd done-" His voice broke off into a choked sob, "Oh God, his mother-"

Fritz held his head in his hands as he began panting erratically, almost hyperventilating, his knuckles going white as he fisted his hair, his terror was impossible to understand, and you were almost too scared to get any closer for fear of intensifying his anxiety, but seeing him tormented hurt too much. Leaning close enough to feel his breath on your face, you placed your hands over his, gently pulling them from the sides of his face to your lap over the canteen. Fritz wouldn't meet your gaze, focusing squarely on the sight of your hands wrapped around his, trying to calm his trembling. A part of you wanted to know exactly what happened to Scout's mother, but you doubted Fritz was in the state to talk about it.

"Fritz, we need to get you out of here before-" 

To your surprise, Fritz began to laugh wildly between his dog-like panting, the sound giving you goosebumps, "Before what? Before I'm killed again? Can't you see- there is no way out!"

Your mouth went dry. "Killed… again?"

He didn't answer, rocking back and forth as he laughed. You shouted desperately, squeezing his hands between yours, "Fritz, what's happened to you?" 

He laughed maniacally for a moment until it quieted to a chuckle, "Maybe you're right… None of this is real. None of this makes sense, none of this means anything, and it's all a matter of time before I die for good. If I were you, I'd run. Save yourself from me while you can!" His grin terrified you, the expression so frightening it made him appear even less like himself. Only now, with your forced closeness, registered the scar of burnt tissue from his left ear, down the side of his face, almost extending down his neck. Once you noticed the blotch, it was impossible to look away.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced yourself to speak. "I don't understand any of this more than you do, Fritz, but I won't leave without you. I would never leave you behind. I don't care what you've done here, for God's sake- you're a good man! You don't deserve to die alone here!" You could see his face visibly sour when you called him a 'good man.'

Drawing a deep breath, he slouched back a little, reclining against the pew but keeping his hands on your lap. "Do you believe there's another side? Will there be an afterlife when you die? Will there be any mercy for people like me? Or is this my eternity?"

Hearing him admit defeat like this was so unlike the Fritz you knew; it was almost insulting to hear. "Stop talking like that! You're not going to die, and you aren't dead yet; please, let me get you out of here!"

His eyes narrowed as he finally looked you in the eye. "Do you remember how you got here?"

You blinked, "What?"

He continued in a sharp tone, "Do you know how long you've been here?"

"Fritz, what do you-"

You could feel his fists tightening between your hands as he continued, "Tell me, how do you know you're not already dead?"

Your eyes widened hearing him say that. No matter how hopeful you tried to sound, you had no answer for him. Fritz was right. You had no idea how long you'd wandered the darkness trying to find another living person, how you got here, or why you were brought here. You genuinely had no idea how you came to wake up here, and you couldn't entirely deny the possibility you really were dead.

You felt so cold, while you could feel your heart beating, your hands felt numb, and you felt yourself swaying in your seat, unable to remain steady as Fritz continued to question you. But it couldn't be true. You refused to let yourself believe it was so!

There was no getting through to him like this, pushing the canteen off your lap onto the bench to stand up facing him. You closed the distance between the two of you until you were close enough to crawl onto his lap, legs straddling either side of his body. He looked slightly baffled but didn't make any effort to pull away. Cupping the sides of his face with the palms of your hands, you forced a small, compassionate smile. He pulled back slightly, pressing his back harder against the bench, though he made no effort to push you off. "Fritz, no matter what happens to us or what you do, I'll always wait for you. I will always try to find you." 

"Why?" He muttered.

"I care about you; I always will. There is nothing you can do to change that." You had no idea if you were saying the right thing or not, but to further convince him, you pressed a loving, almost parental kiss to the top of his head, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, gently pressing yourself as tight up against him as possible, signing in with content and relief when you felt his arms numbly wrap around your waist. His body felt cold, and you suspected yours did too, but up against each other like this, at least it would be easier to warm up.

Fritz felt so small and vulnerable in your arms, more fragile than you'd ever seen him before. The feeling of his weak arms wrapped around your body was as sweet as it was heartbreaking. He squeezed you tighter as you pressed your forehead against the top of his head, rubbing tiny circles into his scalp with your fingertips as you hummed quietly. 

Touching his cheek with a trembling hand, you inquired gently, "What happened to your face?"

His lips pressed into a hard line as he turned his face, pulling away slightly, "It's nothing... It doesn't hurt." You could tell he didn't want you to worry about him, but your eyes drifted down as you got a closer look at how roughed up he really was.

"Your hands are covered in blood- Is it… yours?" 

He shook his head, "The Conaghers."

Blood splattered from his fingertips to elbows and caked the front of his vest and undershirt. Placing both hands on the top buttons of his vest, you began undoing the buttons.

"What are you doing?" He sounded dazed but didn't try to stop you, which you took as a sign to continue, trying not to get too grossed by the dry, crusted blood stains that stiffened the fabric. 

"You're filthy. I'm going to clean you up." Hopping down from his lap, you worked to completely undo his vest; you helped him shrug it off, placing it beside him on the pew. 

"What's the point? You'll just waste your water." He sounded pessimistic but compliant as you undid the buttons on his undershirt. As you suspected, the blood seeped entirely through the fabric, crusts of blood getting caught in his chest hair, staining his skin, and you couldn't help but worry for a moment you wouldn't have enough water to get the job done. While you'd seen him covered in blood countless times before, seeing him so beaten down and depressed while enveloped in gore made it hard to look at him.

Forcing half a smile, you replied, "C'mon, don't worry about that. Let me do what I can to help." 

Without another thought, you stepped back a little, pulling off your shirt, pouring out most of the water in the canteen to drench the fabric, then pressing the wet cloth to his shoulder. "This will probably feel a little cold. Just try to relax, alright?"

You could swear you saw his eyes lingering on your exposed body for a moment before nodding, letting his eyes drift shut, and sighing softly as you began to work the cold cloth against his chest. 

Trying to remove all the blood coating him was a tall order; Fritz was a big guy, and you only had so much water at your disposal, but you couldn't help but notice the tension slowly draining from his face as you continued to wipe away the blood. His breathing began to deepen and slow as your fingers crept from his chest lower down. It would be easy to try and get even lower, but you wanted to keep Fritz mellow and take as much time as possible. After you'd cleaned his upper chest, you drapped the cloth around his neck and began massaging the taunt muscles in his shoulders, trying to work some tension from his upper back. 

Fritz's head lulled a bit further back as you pressed your fingers harder into his flesh. You could watch him like this forever, but you forced yourself to focus on where he was the dirtiest, his hands. You wrung out the rag and dowsed some more water on it before kneeling down. Creeping closer to plant yourself between his spread legs, taking his right arm with yours while you used the other arm to swab the carnage from his skin. Working with the utmost care, you tried your best to clean the filth from the creases of his hands, from under his nails, and out of the hair coating his arms, trying to ignore the putrid smell in the process.

Doing the same to the other arm, you were honestly amazed at how much blood you'd managed to scrub away, though without soap, you couldn't do anything to clean up the red residue plastered across his arms and chest. Staying put on your knees before him, you knew the right thing to do was re-dress him and look for a way out now that you'd gotten him as clean as possible. But the sight of Fritz, half undressed and finally relaxed, made you pause. "Would it really be so bad to stay just a while longer?" You wondered. 

You didn't want to awaken him from the calm trance he'd fallen into, so you began to advance with feather-light movements, placing one hand on the top of his knee, the other on the bare skin just above his belt. You whispered, "Can I get these off too?"

Looking down at you through half-lid eyes, he hesitated momentarily before nodding, "Please." 

His face was flushed, and you could tell he was already semi-aroused from the massage. Fritz watched as you undid his belt, unfastening his pants, shifting in his seat as you pulled them down to his ankles. Despite his encouragement, for a moment, you were too scared to touch him, as though all it would take was one wrong move to shatter the peaceful mood. All you wanted to do was make Fritz feel relaxed, content, and loved; now was your moment to do just that.

Leaning in closer, you kissed the skin on his belly when your hands just were, feeling Fritz stiffen above, inhaling between clenched teeth. "So far, so good." You assured yourself as you inched your hands up from his knees to his thighs, kissing lower and lower until your lips hit the waistband of his briefs. You were about to ask again if he was alright with this, but he moved first, shucking off his briefs just enough to pull his cock out. 

The moment you saw it, you knew you were officially out of patience, and your need to please Fritz took over entirely. Closing your eyes, you connected both hands with the base of his shaft before kissing his head with parted lips. The impact made him throb against your mouth and grab a fist of your hair on impulse. You opened your mouth wider to take his head, parting your lips further, letting your tongue roll out to feel the vein along the length of his underside. 

You had to force your mouth open even wider as he mindlessly bucked forward slightly into your open mouth, the movement taking you by surprise but exciting you even more. Running both hands along the sides of his hips, you could feel muscles tensing under your fingers, Fritz writhing in his seat as you continued to coat his length in saliva, the slick mixing with the few dribbles of precum he'd begun to release. You couldn't help but be surprised at how fast Fritz was coming undone; he must've been more pent-up than you thought. Not that you minded any.

Just as you were sure he was about to come, you felt Fritz tugging your hair, forcing you to disconnect. Confused, you looked up at him, momentarily worried you'd done something wrong. Fritz let go of your hair, pushing himself further upright on the bench. The sight of the man from below, fully erect, coated in his own sweat with his thighs spread wide, made your mouth water and your heartthrob. 

After taking another second to compose himself, he rasped, "Please, let me feel all of you! God, I'm so close, but please! I need you!" 

Needing no further invitation, you nodded eagerly. Bracing yourself on Fritz's bare legs as you got to your feet, trying to ignore the annoying ache in your knees after being forced against the stone floor for too long. Cynically you realized riding Fritz was the most purpose you'd felt since waking up in this terrible place, but you didn't care. You felt a throb of pleasure as you felt his eyes on you as you fully undressed, as he pushed his briefs all the way down, stepping out of them as he mindlessly spread his thighs a little wider in anticipation. 

You could tell he was trying to restrain himself as you took your time sitting on his lap, spreading your legs over his; Fritz wrapped both arms around your back as you eased closer. 

Pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, he spoke, "If we get out of this, will you wait for me- you wouldn't leave me behind, would you!?" Fritz looked at you with wild eyes, his pupils blown out, face flushed bright red with a neediness that bordered on insanity. He was irresistible.

You couldn't help but grin, "Of course, I'll owe you after you waited so patiently for me."

Using the top of the pew's backrest, you gripped tight, grinding your sex against his cock; Fritz instinctively hugged you tighter with a strength great enough to squeeze the air from your lungs. The feeling was intense but not unpleasant. You felt a throb from below as he blindly attempted to guide you into place. His head pressed against the sensitive flesh between your legs, which felt heavenly. His body felt searing hot, all-encompassing, and desperate; you couldn't help but feel yourself locking up, blinded by the pleasure, your mind going blank as you listened to Fritz's choppy, heavy breathing as he too, felt pleasure overtaking his mind.

Fritz rolled his head back, eyes drifting shut; he reluctantly unwrapped one arm from around your waist, groping with his hand until he found the top of your hip. Watching him so high out of his mind with pleasure was amusing, as he tried to guide you. But you were too turned on to sit back and watch for too long, and the feeling of his dick coated in precum and spit against your entrance let you know he wouldn't last much longer anyway. 

"J-just a little more-" Fritz looked pleadingly up at you, needing just one nod from you before thrusting up. He was painfully horny but still unsure how much you could handle. But you weren't about to let him down now. When you mounted him, he was fully aroused, and you knew taking him fully inside wouldn't be easy. It stung slightly, forcing yourself to stretch to accommodate him, though as you rocked against him, the easier it became. 

Stealing a kiss as you wrapped both arms around his neck, you felt him pushing deeper inside, increasing the friction, forcing you to brace all your weight against him as he thrust up. 

The feeling of Fritz's teeth biting down harshly on your neck made you wince and mindlessly clench down even harder against him, the sensation only incentivizing him to continue. His mouth biting against sensitive skin, his hips rolling against yours, feeling absolutely feral with lust caught up with you fast, and as you ground against his lap, you felt a dawning climax. You couldn't get enough, wanting to feel him deeper, feel every inch of his body against yours; even as you came, you continued to grind, wanting to ride out your high as long as possible. As Fritz felt you coming on his lap and saw your face awash with pleasure, he felt his heart throb, and as he watched you coming down from your high, he picked up the pace, watching your limp body moving in rhythm with his thrusts as he came deep inside. 

Your head felt heavy and fuzzy; the world was still blurry as you felt yourself coming down; carefully, you separated from his dick, trying not to think about the mess you'd made after just cleaning him up. You were too spent to worry or do anything about it, and it didn't seem like Fritz was concerned either, allowing you to sit back down on his lap, securing both arms around your waist, and keeping you from going anywhere.

Even after the two of you managed to catch your breath, neither of you tried to separate; it felt too good to finally have a warm body to hold and feel wrapped around yourself after spending so much time lost and cold in the dark. Now, no amount of noise the unknown malicious creatures made bothered you. So long as you could feel Medic's body under your own, nothing could scare you. He held you tight, like a child holding a teddy bear after awakening from a nightmare, it wasn't painful, but you could tell he was still terrified. 

Quietly you spoke, your head still resting against his neck, "Do you really think we're dead?"

Fritz sighed, "I wish I knew." He sounded frail and defenseless. Emotionally devastated but too exhausted to really care. "If this is hell, I know I deserve it."

You buried your head deeper into the crook of his neck, shaking your head, muttering "No, you don't." under your breath. Before now, you hadn't considered this place could be hell; even now, you stubbornly refused to believe it. 

"Maybe it's not hell. All this loneliness and wandering in the dark, it feels more like purgatory than hell." You hated how bleak that sounded. Even as you were trying to inspire hope, there was no ignoring the morbid reality of the situation. 

Fritz pulled away slightly to face you, his brows furrowed slightly with curiosity. "You think there's a way out?"

"In Paradiso, the souls in purgatory are forced to repent for their sin before entering heaven. Maybe that's how it really is… I guess wandering around, all the fear, could be some kind of penance. " You broke eye contact, looking down, feeling less and less confident with your words the longer you went on. 

"So you think there's hope we can get out of here?" Fritz remained still as a statue; you could feel his eyes on you as he spoke. 

"Well, yes- but it depends. I mean- people who were less sinful in life usually weren't stuck in purgatory as long as people with more or more severe sins, but I have no idea what to make of anything around here…" You trailed off, feeling awkward, not knowing what to say next, let alone something he wanted to hear. 

He huffed, "If you're right, I'll be stuck here for ages. If I ever do, get out."

He finally slackened his arms, letting them fall to his sides, limp as you embraced him. As you remembered all you went through to try and lift his spirits, to give him hope to come home- you couldn't help but feel, despite your best efforts, you failed miserably. He opened his mouth to say something, but you interjected,

"Although, it's been said when the living prays for the souls in purgatory, they progress remarkably faster. No matter the sinner or their sins, there's hope so long as you're in purgatory." 

"Redeem ourselves? All I've done is take advantage of you- You shouldn't try to save me; I'm never getting out!" Once again, you could see his eyes water with tears as he clenched them shut. You couldn't bear to watch him cry, rising to a kneeling position and straddling his legs. With one arm around the top of his head and the other around his neck, you gently pulled his head against your body, hugging him tightly into your chest as his shoulders shook with sobs. 

It took all your resolve to keep from crying yourself; despite trying to affirm some hope for Fritz, you felt just as helpless. But you consoled yourself, knowing even though you had no idea where the two of you were or how long you would be here, you loved him. That much you knew would never change. With a heavy sigh, you separated from him, sliding down from the pew and kneeling beside him on the stone ground, resting your cheek against his bare legs as you looked up at him. "There's nothing you can do to make me hate you."

He looked forward, staring at nothing in particular, his face unreadable, "Have you ever heard of a soul in purgatory to send another to heaven?"

"I mean, it's possible." Was the best you could answer.

He buried his head in his hands, working his fingers through his hair, "Were you really searching for me the entire time you were awake out there?"

Without hesitating, you answered, "You were the first thing on my mind. I felt so lost and alone; I knew someone needed me. I didn't doubt for a second it would be you."

Fritz didn't appear convinced. "Why didn't you give up after you couldn't find me?"

"You were all I could think about." You answered honestly.

Forcing himself to look at you, Fritz spoke, leaning forward, propping his head up with one hand, pressing his chin against his fist, "If you're right, if we are in purgatory, if you do get to heaven before me- do you promise you'll wait for me?"

Picking your head up from his lap, you straightened, resting your hands on the pew, "For you, I'd wait forever."

He nodded, "For both our sakes, I hope you're right."

Before you could ask what he meant by this, Fritz was leaning over you, close enough to press a quick kiss to your forehead, and only a second to register what he was doing before grabbing your neck in both hands. He tightened his grip with all his strength, making you cough and choke on your saliva in shock as he forced his trembling hands to squeeze even tighter. 

You tried to resist for a few pathetic moments as though you were any match for him physically, let alone while he had you like this. You could feel his hands slickening with the sweat which still coated the back of your neck from earlier, though this did nothing to weaken his grip. The pressure made your head pound, completely disorienting you. Despite your continued struggle, you knew you wouldn't have much longer. 

You feared it would come to this; Fritz was too far gone to save; he'd abandoned hope before you got to him. There was no way you could've actually managed to bring him home. The best you could do was offer him a moment of pleasure before he forced himself to forge ahead. His hands wrapped around your throat, cutting off your air supply. It hurt like hell, and you couldn't help but instinctively try to claw at his hands and shift your weight back away from him- as though it would do anything to slow him down. Fritz winced, listening to the sound of your choking, though his grip didn't budge.

Fritz couldn't bear to hear the sound of the life leaving your body, the broken, pathetic wheezing and coughing filling the abandoned chapel. He cried, "You said you'd never hate me- you promised you'd always come back for me! I swear I'm only doing this because I love you! And you shouldn't be here! Not with people like me!" Fritz fought hard against his emotions, keeping his hands locked around your throat as tight as possible. His vision was blurred by his own tears. Watching you suffer was agony, but he knew killing you was the greatest mercy he could offer you. He'd do anything to get you out of this terrible place, even if he had to do this over and over again. Fritz swore to himself he would. He was a wretched man. He deserved to be alone with the guilt of what he'd done forever. Your eyes were red and puffy, and you were in too much agony to focus on anything, not even the man trying to end your life.

"Please, please- you'll forgive me for this, won't you?! Tell me you understand!"

It was impossible to respond with his hands around your neck; he knew that, even if you could answer and miraculously tell him precisely what he wanted to hear, it wouldn't alleviate his guilt. All you could do was muster up the last of your dying strength to nod once, doing your best to communicate an "I forgive you." before everything went black. 

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 2

Propaganda Under Cut

Pepper Potts

So many fics make her bitchy and controlling for absolutely no reason she deserves better

So for this we have to think back to like... peak Avengers MCU era. I am sorry. Back when Avengers had just come out it was BRUTAL out there for anyone who didn't like Tony/Steve (Tony Stark, Pepper's canon love interest, and Steve Rogers aka Iron Man and Captain America). While the ship itself is like, fine, it got sour so fast because Pepper was demonized SO much. When she wasn't completely sidelined and ignored, she was a cheater or an abuser (??) or what-have-you in fics so the two men could get together. It's much better now and last I heard Pepper gets some of the love she deserves (bc we do love women in this house!) but oh MAN it was bad back then. TBH all MCU women were treated like garbage by the fanbase but she got the brunt of it because she was in the way of The Most Popular Ship. She was just too #girlboss I guess

Frequently villainized for being a canon love interest for Tony Stark. Often portrayed as a Nag, constantly bothering him about doing "work" for his "company" when he could be working on inventions or spending time with his love interest! Sometimes she just Doesn't Understand Him, inconsiderately pressuring him to stay out of being a hero instead of being who he really is; only the m/m love interest really understands him! Or maybe she's the aggressor, who took advantage of the power imbalance between her and her poor innocent *checks notes* boss in order to pressure him into a relationship he didn't really want where he was treated terribly, and only his m/m love interest can save him from her! Pepper deserves better!

Sharon Carter

she “got in the way” of stucky shippers, in the comics she’s like the love of Steve’s life 

When she first appeared she was unfairly treated by fans for "getting in the way" of the Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes ship. A shame because she's a really good character. I'd talk more about how unfairly Sharon, and her actress Emily VanCamp, have been treated by the fanbase and the creators, but that's a different story.

She and Steve Rogers were meant to have a romantic relationship, but the entire fandom and many Stucky fans dislike her because it wasn’t a good ship. I think she isn’t the best but she doesn’t deserve so much hate

[mbgcreates]

Under the Mistletoe

Word count: 1481

A/N: You know what, sure, I'll put this one here. Also, THIS WON'T BE SITTING FOR ANOTHER YEAR!! This was started about two years ago, and I only just finished it 😅 enjoy! Remember, reblogs > likes! Thank you!

Dark is…nervous.

It's been a long time since he's felt this way; the closest he can recall is when Wilford gets overly trigger-happy at the worst of times and jeopardizes his plans, or when the man has one of his memory spells. But this…

Dark glances at the mistletoe hanging from the doorframe of his office, visible only from the inside. It’s been… Well, in another lifetime, he had attempted this tradition before and succeeded a few times, although he was much more nervous then than he is currently. Besides, times have changed. He’s a different man, now. One that he thought wasn’t so capable of something like “nervousness.” Do you even like him enough that this will work—

Nonetheless, he requested some time ago that you come to his office at your earliest convenience. He knows you won’t ignore it, because he hardly ever invites you there. If he does, it must be important. As this is. As you are.

He cannot focus on his paperwork in the interim. Instead of a refuge, it feels like an overwhelming mountain, stretching up almost indefinitely. He's not even sure why he has so much of it, a creature of the void as he is, but somehow, Wilford’s very existence comes with paperwork. The other egos cause headaches, but typically not paperwork. Not often, anyway.

And you. Somehow, you’ve managed to fit in with the craziness that is this revolving door of oddballs. It took time, but you’ve carved out your own niche, and the more aggressive of the bunch eventually stopped antagonizing you. Wilford, as was his wont, took you “under his wing,” which largely meant you’d run around doing increasingly inane errands until Dark had to step in. You weren’t built for that, after all. It was the first time he saw anything that wasn’t (fear) concern in your eyes when looking at him.

Dark sighs and shuffles some papers around. The dark wood of his desk pokes through, matched by the dreary wallpaper, black bookshelves with equally desaturated books, and dark wood flooring. It's like it's bearing down on him, suffocating him in his anxiousness instead of being a comfort. After the day he stepped in, you slowly began to spend a bit more time with him around the manor, and he found himself missing your presence on some days when you weren’t around.

Your footsteps announce your arrival far in advance, his supernatural hearing better than a human’s, and he actually has to take a deep breath to calm himself. In all honesty, the nerves wouldn't be that bad, but for him? Anything more than a little is too much.

He had discovered by way of accidentally overhearing that, despite appearances, you enjoyed the little things, especially the little romantic things. It was strange, to consider such concepts after so long, to let the idea germinate in his mind until an idea bloomed. An idea that he is still second-guessing until this very moment. He pretends to keep working until you rap on the door frame. "Dark? You asked to see me?"

"Ah, you're here." He shuffles the papers again, this time into a neat stack, acting as if everything is normal and you didn’t somehow borderline startle him. “I almost believed you wouldn’t show.”

You both know he said this on purpose; just another jab he can’t help but say. A deflection, now, habitual and not fully meant. You huff half-heartedly. “As if I wouldn’t. Can I come in?”

“Not quite yet.” He knows the anxiousness isn't evident (you’ve never seemed to notice before), but his reply is still rather quick. “We can have a discussion with you over there.”

You roll your eyes. Dark doesn't notice, too caught up in not looking at you. “Sure, real personal discussion. What even did you want to talk with me about?”

“You have been living here for quite some time now, and it looks like you will be here for quite some time longer.” His desk is tidied much too soon for his liking. “I take it everything is still satisfactory?”

“Well, yeah, I suppose so,” you reply, obviously confused. “Wilford is still…Wilford.”

“That he is. And that he will continue to be.” He’s forced to finally look up, and seeing you underneath the mistletoe is like something out of a dream: unreal. Too good to be true. Dark makes himself stand up, palms pressed firmly against the desk as if to steady himself. “If you have more trouble with him, or with anyone else, you know where to find me.”

“Oh, okay, thanks…?”

“I do think Wilford isn’t fully utilizing your talents, but he doesn’t always listen to me.” Dark finds his feet taking him forward, towards you.

“Really? You think so?” There’s a tinge of surprise in your voice, but it’s a good surprise. You didn’t think he would notice, he suspects.

“Yes. And with the days you spend in my office, we could figure out some way to harness and hone them. Maybe then, he’ll listen.”

“I mean, is it really a good idea to get in his way?”

The corner of Dark’s mouth twitches as he stops in front of you. You’re so…short, compared to him. “Well, of all people, I would be the best candidate.”

Amusement flickers into your eyes, and it makes you look that much lovelier. “I suppose you’re right. But still…”

“My dear, I think you should…aim higher. Look higher.” When you just blink at him, not picking up on his odd hint, he points upwards, towards the lintel. Your brows twitch in confusion, but you follow where he points. Your eyes catch the sprig of mistletoe, and he watches your expression as the gears turn in your mind, everything clicking into place. You look back at him in disbelief, and whether you’re aware of it or not, your cheeks are tinged with the beginnings of a blush. It makes him want to do this even more. Still, the words are not easy to say, tongue heavy in his mouth. “May I?”

You nod almost dumbly after a moment, and he brings his hand up to cup your face. It is of immense relief that you don’t recoil. If his heart still worked, it would be beating out of his chest. As it is, he can hear yours doing exactly that. It picks up as he closes the gap between you.

Dark brushes his lips against yours, the barest of touches, almost as if he's asking for permission again. When you don't pull away, he kisses you properly, surprisingly soft and chaste. (You didn't think he had it in him.) It’s over far too soon, and when he pulls back, your eyes flutter open to find him studying you. The moment is delicate, just the sound of your breathing as his eyes search yours and time seems to stretch into infinity. 

All you do is lean forward a little, and you seem to fall into each other, his lips meeting yours again, this time with a bit of urgency. You, instead of retreating, accept it, pressing towards him and tentatively lifting your own hand to his cheek. The reassurance flooding Dark is immediate, prompting him to bring your body closer to him. You inhale sharply in surprise, but again don’t move away, relaxing in his embrace. 

Despite the kissing lasting longer than expected, you removing your lips from his still happens much too quickly. Your face is fully flushed, now; he wonders if his cheeks convey the same.

Your voice is soft; one might call it breathless. “You had the discussion…just for that?”

“Well, I had to get you here somehow.” There’s a ghost of a toothy grin for a moment, before his face softens—actually softens, if but a little. “And I meant everything I said.”

Your eyes dart away, sheepish. “Oh…thanks…”

“How do you feel about dinner?”

Those were not words Dark expected out of his mouth, and nor did you, by the way your head whips back up toward him. “Dinner? We eat dinner at the manor all the time.”

“You know what I meant.” A genuine, small smile graces his face. “Just you and me.”

“Y-yeah.” You bite at your lip; he hears your heart rate jump up again. “That sounds…great. When?”

“Tonight, as long as everything goes according to plan.”

You give a small nod, then nod again, more definitively. “Yeah. Sounds good to me.”

“Splendid.” Dark kisses your forehead, then releases you. His arms already feel empty without you there. “I will come get you when everything is ready. I’ll see you later, darling.”

Darling. Something else that just slipped out. But it feels…right, to borrow that from the past. And, with the way you look at him after it, eyes shining with something he cannot yet fully place, perhaps he will keep calling you “darling.” And, maybe soon, his darling.

[project-sekai-facts]

Is it me or are the new outfits simpler? Like old ones had a lot of tiny useless details all around, the new ones look "cleaner" in comparison. It's not bad I kinda like it but it definitely feels weird

Before we start I just wanna say that I kinda critically analysed the costume designs instead of you know. just talking about the details. cool here we go

Yeah aside from VBS they all feel so. Plain, I guess? MMJ’s outfits probably the worst instance, imo they felt more same-y than before and I get they’re an idol unit so they were gonna be uniform but there’s something off. It’s the blue, I get that it’s probably a nod to the blue penlights, but using green or their respective image colors would’ve been better I think. You can barely even see Haruka or Shizuku's image colors on the skirts. Honestly I don’t think the accessories are that bad, they’re pretty cute and fit the group, though the costume being so plain outside of them just makes it look like there should be more. the thing is the outfits aren't the same, they have different skirts and shirts like the original it's just the fact that they all have the same color scheme and similar-enough accessories that it makes the differences less noticable. their image colors should've been the primary or secondary color not the tertiary color.

Leo/need I can get being more uniform, it goes with their whole thing, and I liked how there’s still a lot of details to differentiate them and give them personality. Honestly their original color scheme was pretty basic but making their image colors the secondary colors instead of of the primary colors of their outfit? it just wasn't it. honestly it wouldn't be too bad if the grey wasn't such an ugly color it looks really bad. if they'd gone with black or a much darker grey for the blazers it would've looked so much better and made the accents stand out more. also, the lack of accessories... i get they're more "professional and mature" but their outfits are quite boring, especially next to Miku's. If all of them had a big star armband like Honami or even had a bigger star buckle anywhere (like on a belt) it would look a bit nicer.

WxS was an improvement from Leo/need maybe? The outfits are definitely the most detailed so far, and they had a lot of personality. I like that they kept the original theme of character types (Rui being a villain, Nene being a fairy, etc), and it's not hard to tell what role each of them are meant to be (except emu but it wasn't obvious what hers was in the first place). I think Tsukasa's fits his personality quite well; he plays hero roles so he has a prince sort of outfit, he's the leader so he's got the sash, and he usually dresses very smart. it's very plain though, definitely could've done with brighter colors on the accessories, and maybe keeping the belt charm. also the jacket and trousers being the same color without much to separate them and balance it out doesn't look great. emu and nene's are both better, the color palettes are really nice and their outfits aren't plain holy shit. Emu's fits her personality really well - just by looking you can tell she's a fun and positive person. Rui's is probably the one i'd say is best out of the bunch. I know we can't see the front but the asymmetry and use of black in the color palette makes it stand out a lot and really adds something that the others were lacking. it's a very good villain outfit as well.

N25's were simple, but managed to actually pull it off. they didn't feel really plain compared to some of the other units despite actually being pretty plain. their outfits were always dark, and that hasn't changed, but making the colors more murky adds an extra layer to it. the addition of the flower patterns really adds something to take away the plainess of the original outfits, as well as adding relevant symbolism. Mafuyu's especially stands out being the lightest color and being the most ragged. It tells you she's different, she appears bright and perfect at first, but when you look further down, she's damaged. The image colors could've done with being a bit brighter maybe but other than that these are pretty good.

VBS outfits are actually really good. There I said it. They're able to feel cohesive as a group while still managing to reflect the individuality of each members and not be plain. The outfits fit their personal styles really well, Kohane's more girly, An's more cool and mature, Akito's sporty and active and Toya's more smart but still has the street look. Despite their outfits looking totally different, you can tell they're a unit because of the reddish-pink accents on all their outfits and also using white as a unifying color. i know i complained about the white making the other outfits plain but it's far more balanced out here and isn't as in-your-face. it isn't like MMJ and WxS that have white as their main outfit color. With VBS it's just one white item of clothing: Kohane's sweater, An's cargos, Akito's hoodie and Toya's tshirt. it's incorporated in a very natural way and isn't overly prominent. their image colors and other colors are used just as much in the outfits to balance it out. they have the best balance undoubtedly. even the accessories, they aren't big and there's not a whole lot of them, but the outfits already have a lot going on so they don't need to be complex, they're just there to add something extra.

There’s too much white.

[brookstolemybrand]

Saw this post and I don't really want to respond to it directly because 1) it's old, 2) it's clearly meant to be funny and not taken overly seriously (and I don't have any actual beef with it to be absolutely clear)

But it did get me thinking

Like firstly yeah it makes sense that Sabo would be the real hoodlum and Ace the more respectable one at heart, just because Ace was never even given a chance to be a Good Kid while Sabo actively chose not to be one

We have no way of knowing what Ace would have been like if he'd been (for example) allowed to grow up peacefully with his biological mum without being persecuted for his biological dad's crimes. He was given no choice except to become a delinquent, that was the only option available to him

Sabo had every chance in the world to grow up to be a respectable and polite gentleman, he was given all the education and training and a status that was apparently high enough to even rise all the way up to royalty (as proven by Sterry), but he didn't want it so he said fuck that and actively chose to become a Bad Kid

So yeah, it makes sense Sabo is the more rebellious one, the one who has less respect for authority, because unlike for Ace, for him this was all a choice

Under different circumstances, maybe Ace would even have become a marine like Garp wanted, who knows. Sabo was never going become a respectable gentleman, much less a king

That said, it's worth noting that it's not like Sabo was doing well at home. He was unloved, he struggled fitting the mould he was expected to fit, he felt trapped. He was driven to lash out just like Ace was, just in a different way. In Sabo's case it was about him not fitting into society because of who he was. Ace wasn't allowed to even try to fit in, because of who his dad was

I don't actually think either of them is the more "responsible" one, though. Because they're both responsible in different ways, they just have different priorities:

Like that post I reblogged earlier talks about Dragon sacrificing his personal relationships for the cause, that's kinda what I think Sabo is doing too, at least to some extent

Here's my take:

Ace is the more responsible one when it comes to interpersonal relationships, but Sabo feels a responsibility for the whole world

I mean he IS still reckless about it but well, so was Ace about his own responsibilities

I get it though, this is more about making the point that Ace is not the rude miscreant of the two and Sabo isn't the polite and peaceful one, Ace just looks like a hoodlum (... which he is, to be fair, he's a pirate) and Sabo like a gentleman (which he also kinda is but only due to an accident of birth) but that doesn't indicate anything about their personalities

Ace is the polite one, and Sabo is the rude one. Ace is friendly and caring despite appearances, and Sabo is kind of vicious and ruthless despite his gentle demeanour. And Ace might be a pirate but when we meet him he's trying to maintain stability and order (among pirates, but still), while Sabo might be a nobleman but when we meet him, he's actively trying to start a revolution to overthrow the government

And Ace is the one who stepped up to take care of Luffy and to look after him, while Sabo fucked off to the sea and joined a rebel militia

I just don't think "responsibility" is the right term for the distinction, I guess? Because as I said, I think Sabo is actually still motivated by a sense of responsibility. I mean that was also why he decided to leave Luffy and Ace in the first place, thinking that him being friends with them was putting them in danger, but I also think he was feeling a more general sense of responsibility as a member of the upper class who caused all this suffering in the first place

I actually wonder if it's a thing with both Sabo and Dragon because one was born a noble and the other is a former marine (and son of a navy hero), that they feel like they have to commit to the cause to make up for their origins?

And Sabo cares about this even to the point where he's willing to sacrifice his own dream of freedom to fight for the freedom of others. This wasn't what he wanted after all: he wanted to be a pirate, just like Luffy and Ace, and he could have chosen to follow that dream when he regained his memories but he didn't, because he decided that the revolution was more important