#because all of it just boils down to HOME !!! searching for a home. for a safe place to settle down and build it from the ground up

[hauntingofhouses]

stories about home and belonging. about parents and children. about friendship and community and family. about connection and understanding.

home as warmth and love and comfort and respite. home as familiarity and knowing. home as vulnerability but also shelter.

home as your own body. when it doesn't feel right you reconstruct it.

because homes are something you build, at the end of the day. and thus must be maintained, renovated, decorated. or you can start again from scratch. brick by brick.

[moved-to-slayfk]

posting here because this just doesn’t feel right to talk about in the horseimagebarn voice but this is extremely important to talk about.

my partner and i have returned to our hometown to stay with her family and my own has gotten a hotel here too (they moved to the town we currently live in after we did) so we are all safe and out of the thick of it

however there are tens of thousands of people who are not both in my own town and in the many surrounding it. appalachia will take an extremely long time to recover from this and there are more storms on the way. all i see on social media right now is people asking for shelter because their homes have been destroyed, or people asking for help searching for family members who are missing. hundreds of trees have fallen. hundreds of homes have flooded. roads are literally falling apart. preexisting sinkholes due to shitty pipes are opening up and consuming land. dams are on the verge of bursting and the only way to stop it is to release water so quickly it floods whole towns. all but one of our cell towers are down, so only people with at&t have service and the rest can’t contact anyone. over half the town still doesn’t have power. a major water supply issue occurred and the entire town is on a water boil order with no electricity to boil with. people are trapped in their homes and workplaces or out on the street because they have nowhere to go. law enforcement is blocking off roads but trapping people in the process. people have to be rescued by helicopter. our animal shelter has no water or power and boarding facilities have been flooded. entire villages like chimney rock nc are gone, and entire cities like asheville are cut off from the rest of the state and are completely inaccessible. ALL OF THE ROADS IN WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA ARE CLOSED. 400+ roads are closed because they are unsafe . that is INSANE!!!

when people say that climate change isn’t real, they don’t know what they’re talking about. climate change and its father capitalism are only going to continue to worsen lives in every way possible. i live in the mountains and our infrastructure is completely unprepared to handle hurricanes and it’s only going to get worse. it’s such a strange and eye-opening experience to live something like this when you think that it could never happen to you because that type of weather shouldn’t reach you in your environment. climate change doesn’t care where you live. it’s real.

western north carolina and the rest of the southeast that has been hit by helene need help. more people need to be talking about this so that the government DOES SOMETHING because the government historically fucking hates appalachia and it still does!!! the major state institution near me took DAYS to respond despite being the only place in town with power and wifi connection because they had to wait for the state to approve their response—they could have allowed thousands of people to evacuate days prior to the hurricane hitting us but they didn’t do anything before or after until it was too late!!! it’s bullshit!!! PLEASE get talking about this because something has to be done. climate change is going to continue happening and our mountains and the people in them are going to suffer immensely. hundreds if not thousands are now homeless. please talk about this look at the footage online of the wreckage and look how quickly our infrastructure crumbled. we need better. the people of appalachia deserve better.

i’ll get back to posting horses soon. but for now this is a lot. my friends are homeless and my family had to get off the mountain or be trapped there without power and water for days. we’re all safe but exhausted. i hope everyone who has been affected by this is staying safe. if you are in western nc, dm me. when i come back, if you’re in my area, im happy to bring supplies. stay safe everyone

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── UNZIP ME ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

𐙚 pairing: nerd!rafe x perv!reader

𐙚 summary: rafe has difficulty undressing you.

𐙚 warnings / tags: smut, some fluff, MDNI!

𐙚 author's note: based on a video sent by nerd!rafe’s #1 stan @raahosh i hope you like it queen <3

PERV MASTERLIST 𐙚 RAFE MASTERLIST

after you and rafe started dating, your favorite part about going out was no longer the part where you’d flirt with everything that moved. it was no longer about batting your eyelashes at some poor bastard and making him think you’d be going home with him if he bought you and your girls a round of shots.

no.

you never thought you’d become one of those girls, but somehow, when you fell in love with rafe, your favorite part about going out was coming back; even better if the place you came back to was his dormitory.

you’d sneak into your boyfriend’s dorm with your heels in your hand, still wearing the dress you’d worn out that night. rafe would boil some water while you changed into one of his shirts that were too big on you (usually something related to star wars). he’d pour the boiled water into two noodle cups, and help you take your makeup off because you were ‘too tired’ when in reality you just liked having him take care of you.

the two of you would then cuddle up in his bed, eating your cup noodles while you told him anecdotes about your night, all the while some show was playing on his laptop.

this time was different, though. not only were you missing rafe, but you were craving him. the entire time you were at the shitty packed nightclub with your girls, only thing you could think about was him. it got so bad you ended up scrolling through your gallery for pictures of you and him.

finally, when you’d had enough, you decided to just tell your friends a little white lie about how you were feeling nauseous, and got an uber back to the boys’ dormitories.

soon enough, you were behind rafe’s door, your boyfriend’s eyes widening when he saw you standing there, “what are you-”

you interrupted his sentence by pressing your lips on his in a heated kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. rafe moaned into the kiss, slamming the door shut so loudly it must’ve awoken a few other people residing in the dormitories, his touch making you feel drunker than the remnants of alcohol still in your veins.

your hands were on his hips, tugging him closer to you while also pushing him backwards towards his bed. you pulled away from the kiss, pushing rafe down onto the bed, his pupils blown wide as he looked up at you in surprise. you straddled rafe’s lap, tugging on his hair as your chest pressed against him.

“missed you…” you mumbled, your lips pressed against his, your ragged breaths mingling together. “missed you too…” he whispered and you connected your lips with his, your lips greedily moving against his. rafe’s hands started trailing up your back, searching for the zipper of your dress.

finally, though, when he found it, the boy couldn’t seem to be able to unzip it no matter how many times he tugged on it, and you couldn’t help the grin that took over your lips, pulling away from him in a breathless daze, feeling him starting to harden underneath you.

“i have to do everything myself, do i?” you chuckle, rising back to your feet, rafe letting out a disappointed whine, his lips in a pout. you turned your back to your boyfriend, and he watched as your skilled hands slowly unzipped the dress, revealing your bare back to him, his eyes widening.

you let the black dress pool at your feet before stepping out of it, taking slow, measured steps towards rafe, his eyes shamelessly trailing over your bare chest.

you straddled your boyfriend once again, a seductive smile on your face as one of his hands cupped your breast, his thumb pressing over your nipple, the bud starting to harden under his cold hands in a way that made you arch into him.

“much better.” you grin, tilting his head back by his chin, before bringing your lips to his and sliding your hands under his shirt.

TAGLIST: @raahosh @purpleplumpudding @rafesheaven @esotericcangel @mattyskies @bakugouswaif @littlelamy

[nottslove]

ON CAMERA

Pairing: hacker!theo x spy!reader 1.1k words Summary: theo nott, professional, wanted hacker, has been keeping a close eye on you, the spy hired to track him down. little do you know, the more you search, the harder the search grows— mainly because theo knows you're looking for him. after following a lead blindly, you somehow land in danger and theo, who has been watching you, calls the cops to pull you out of your risky situation. as a thank you, he expects a little show...

Warnings: 18+, smut under the cut, voyeurism, somewhat stalking, exploitation, semi-public, dirty talk, cursing, not for minors.

WATCHING you had become an obsession. That was almost all he did, day and night.

Every room, every corner of your house was monitored. At first, he tried to convince himself he was doing it because it was his job. But when he began to skip sleeping to watch you sleep, he realized it ran much deeper than just that.

You, of course, were clueless about the whole ordeal. You performed your routine as you normally did, without ever suspecting that you were being hacked, watched.

You woke up early, trained in your private training room, practiced firing shots, worked out in your personal indoor gym, went for a swim, then ate and used your computer to follow up on your latest mission.

You were supposed to find one of the most wanted hackers in the country, whose identity was a complete secret, and you were positive you had a name, and perhaps a location.

Theo was watching, a smirk plastered across his lips as you searched for him. But he was too good.

His identity had remained a secret for a long time, and would continue to remain so until he decided otherwise.

"Oh, pretty girl, you'll never find me," he crooned, a soft chuckle spilling past his lips as every link you clicked took you to a dead end.

Frustrated beyond measure, you finally decided to search a dating website for something, anything.

And then, you found someone whose profile matched the one you were looking for.

"Bingo—" you whispered victoriously, staring at the profile of a young man in his early twenties.

"Hate to break it to you, Princess, but that's not me," Theo murmured to himself, lighting a cigarette as he watched you through one of the little screens around him, zooming in on your low-cut top. "Cute top though... Nice rack you got over there..."

Your laptop screen was duplicated across his as you created your own profile for an online dating site, after you came across your suspect on the website.

He was there, reading all those messages you sent, all the flirting between you and your suspect, his blood boiling with every picture you kept attaching to keep this man interested.

And then, you agreed to meet this suspect of yours. You hadn't bothered with a wire, you were confident you could handle him on your own— with two knives strapped to one thigh and a gun strapped to the other underneath your satin minidress.

Little did you know, Theo had already bugged your phone, already gotten your every movement displayed all over his screen.

He tracked you entering the restaurant, he tracked you waiting there for hours... then, he noticed you taking the shortcut back home, walking through the park... but when he noticed you moving towards an abandoned alley on the map across his display, he instantly called the cops and gave them your exact location.

Turns out, you were wrong. Your suspect was just another suspect, and the real guy you were hunting was still out there.

This guy just turned out to be some nasty creep who faked his profile to prey on young women.

You didn't know how the cops knew your exact location, or how they found out, but whatever it was, you were grateful because the cops had arrived before the creep could hurt a single hair on your head.

And when you reached home, you entered the shower first thing, trying to relax a little, before you fell asleep, unaware that Theo had zoomed into your bedroom, so that it now covered his entire screen.

"I deserve a thank you for that, don't I, pretty?" he remarked, even though he was well aware you couldn't hear him at all, zooming in on your figure, who had just come out of the shower and was now wrapped in a tiny towel that barely covered you. "After all, I did save that pretty little ass of yours back there... Gonna give me a little show?"

As if you had heard his words, you picked out a pair of satin shorts and a matching camisole, placing it on the bed as you pranced around your room in your tiny towel.

You were unaware of his watchful gaze, observing you, unaware he was so fucking hard underneath his joggers, his ringed fingers resting on his waistband as he watched you with bated breath, his eyes dark, jealous of every tiny, water droplet that clung to your sacred skin.

After you dried your hair, you took off your towel and let it slide to the floor while you got changed.

Unfortunately for Theo, your back was towards the camera. A groan slipped past his lips when he realized he wouldn't be able to see those pretty tits of yours.

Fortunately for him, he would have a nice picture of your ass.

And when he zoomed in to your plump rear, he nearly came in his pants.

He could feel his precum stain his new boxers, a loud groan leaving his lips as he slid his joggers down, taking out his cock and fisting it, spreading the precum down the length.

He gives it a few pumps, just imagining what it would be like to bend you over the bed and fuck you from behind, pull your hair back into a ponytail and manhandle you the way he wants, because he knows you can take it.

He closes his eyes, groans spilling past his lips as he begins jerking his cock in his hand, his eyes opening when he hears a small grunt of frustration from his screen— your pajama top fell when you were about to put it on.

As you bend over, you give Theo the most beautiful view of your ass, his eyes glued to the screen as he jerks off.

"Fuck—" he hisses, pumping his hand up and down his shaft, quickening his pace as he approaches his climax. "Such a cute fuckin' ass..."

Right before you slide your shorts on, he takes a screenshot, then closes his eyes, grunts of pleasure leaving him.

His cock throbs and pulses in his hand, his rings adding a delicious friction as he slides his hand faster, not even bothering to conceal his moans.

He gasps your name as he finally climaxes, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his lower abs clenching with the surge of pleasure that flooded through him, the thick, sticky liquid now sliding down his screen, across the screenshot of your pretty, little ass.

Not even bothering to clean his mess up, his eyes flicker over to his other screen, where you're scrolling through your phone, tucked under the sheets of your bed, completely oblivious to it all.

His head slams against his table.

"Fuck— I'm screwed..."

not proofread, wrote this in such a hurry. lmk if i missed anything.

tags: @the-sylver-dragon, @clairesblouse

profile; nav;

©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

[specsthesecond]

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

It's a quiet afternoon, one spent reading your new book, mending some of your torn clothes and dozing off occasionally.

A lazy day if ever there was. You're not worried about cooking dinner tonight because you have company coming over with their own. You finish stitching up the hole in one of your thick trousers and gaze outside. It's about time now, if he arrives too late, then he'll have to walk back home in the dark. You wouldn't let him do that, it's a little ridiculous, considering he's a huge orc who knows the woods perfectly well but you'd still force him to sleep on the couch before letting him leave.

That idea makes you smile, such a massive man snuggled up on your old reliable couch. Just when you think you should step outside and look for your friend, you hear the distinct jingle of horse reins and a frightened neigh from outside.

This has you on edge immediately. The only times you've heard that is when the king's men search the perimeter between the Orc and Human territories, making sure no one is breaking the land treaties between the two. You hate these men, they claim to be here for your safety but they make you feel the polar opposite whenever they look down at you on their high horses.

You pull on your boots, take a deep breath before stepping outside, preparing yourself for the condescending look the knights always give you, along with thinly veiled sexual remarks about how it must be so hard for you, all alone out here in these scary woods.

That, however, is not what you see when you walk outside. Instead, you feel ice shoot into your veins.

Red seeps into the white snow as an orc, your orc, clutches the wound where an arrow protrudes out of his upper chest. The horse kicks and neigh's as the knight riding it reloads his crossbow.

The ice in your veins suddenly boils, you grab your bow resting near the door along with a handful of arrows and run outside. Notching an arrow, you don't even announce yourself before letting it go. It whizzes through the air and hits the knights' crossbow right out of his hands, he yelps as it falls to the ground, turning angrily towards the offender.

"Get off my land!"

The bleeding Orc looks just as shocked as the knight, who reins his horse back in an attempt to compose himself.

"My lady, I found this beast roaming near your home. I was only-"

"I'll take care of it. Leave."

You're trying to sound as sturdy as possible but it's hard when your friend is bleeding out in front of you.

"but I- "

"It's my land. He's mine. Leave."

Your voice is unwavering, only getting angrier with every syllable as your bow string grows more taught. The knight looks back at the orc, hatred burning, then he looks back at you sceptically. You're itching to let your arrow fly right between his hateful eyes. He's not wearing his helmet, it would be easy.

He's clearly more vulnerable than he's used to, with only his sword at his side, which he couldn't even unsheathe before you let your arrow fly. With a scoff, the knight pulls on his horse's reins and retreats down the snowy slope. You stand stock still, skin shivering under the thin material of your tunic. You have to hold back the urge to shoot your arrow into his back before he disappears into the woods.

Slinging your bow over your shoulder, you sprint over to your friend, who heaves heavy breaths while clutching his chest. You struggle to lift him onto his feet, he grunts at every movement and it makes you want to cry. When you eventually get him up, you both stagger towards the open front door. It's slow and arduous but you eventually get past the door frame and slam the heavy wood shut, dropping your bow to carry his heavy body to the couch.

He slumps down on the couch with a groan. You almost sob with relief when you realise the arrow is in his right side, not his left. Fool of a knight had worse aim than you thought. It doesn't look that deep but there's a lot of blood seeping out.

He's still in life or death mode as tears of pain spill over his pretty eyelashes. You try to calm his heaving breaths, placing a hand on his cheek to bring his attention to you instead of the arrow in his chest. You wipe his tears away and hush comforting words he doesn't even understand. When his breathing slows considerably and his attention is only on you, you wrench the arrow out of his chest in one quick pull.

He howls in pain, and you sob apologies at him, shuffling his overcoat off to unbutton his tunic, the way his blood clings to the material and his skin in sticky strings makes you nauseous.

You lay him down and run off to your small bathroom. You come back with a bunch of bandages, disinfecting ointment, a warm wash cloth and a numbing ointment.

There's so much blood. Your hands are covered in the mixture of blood and water as you dump the cloth in the bowl of lukewarm water. You clean his wound with the wet wash cloth before pouring on a more than generous amount of disinfecting ointment. It burns and he groans, clutching the couch pillow next to his head. This won't be fatal, if you can clean and stitch it properly.

You slather on the numbing cream with the tiny application stick and wait for it to take effect. You turn to your sewing kit on the tiny table in front of the hearth and try in vain to stop your hands from shaking while disinfecting the needle and thread. It doesn't work, you can't stop the trembling. What if you don't disinfect it enough and the wound becomes infected? What if you can't save him like he saved you? What if he dies because of you? What if-

Warmth covers your trembling hand, the heavy weight of the orcs hand grounding you. You look at the orc lying on your couch incredulously, he looks back with a tired smile, sluggishly blinking at you. How can he be so warm when he's bleeding out?

You clutch his hand and take a deep breath. The pounding of your heart is still loud but your hands are calm enough to thread the needle. You wipe the excess numbing ointment off and carefully make the first incision. This isn't completely new to you but seeing the bloody red flesh underneath his green skin makes this much harder than when you've had to stitch up yourself.

As you pull the curved needle in and out of his skin, you can tell he's trying not to grunt or flinch even though it hurts.

When you make the final incision, you both let out heavy sighs. He rests his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes, as you bandage the wound with gauze and more antibacterial ointment. You look up at his resting eyes and when you realise he hasn't moved for a while you panic and pat his cheek a bit desperately.

He grunts awake, grasping your hand and squinting at you like you just interrupted a midday nap. When he sees your teary eyes and concerned expression, he softens and huffs amusedly. You yank back your hand, anger simmering, how can he think this situation is amusing?

You hate how he's barged into your life and lit an uncomfortable fire in your chest that you can't put out. There's so much more to be confused and fearful about now with him in your life. What if the knight comes back with reinforcements? Would you have to fight to be together? What does 'together' even mean?

You let a hot tear fall to the ground and sniffle angrily. It's all so overwhelming, before him, you never needed to feel this much. His hand reaches out and you feel the warmth envelope your cheek, lifting your gaze to his. His eyes hold so much he could never translate, yet you find you understand perfectly. He wipes away an oncoming tear, only for you to let out another sob.

You clutch his hand to your cheek, your other hand holds his forearm close,

"I think I love you."

You utter into his palm, the devastating truth weighs heavy on you. You don't actually intend for him to ever know what it means but when you look up at his wide eyes and shocked face, you realise he didn't need a translation.

He leans up on the shoulder of his uninjured side and pulls you closer with the hand on your cheek. You're halfway through reprimanding him for moving too much when your words catch in your throat as he pulls you inches away from his face. He mumbles something in orcish and although you don't know what he said, you're pretty sure you know what he means.

You lightly touch your forehead to his before, rather timidly, kissing him. He kisses back with purpose, it takes a minute for you to properly ease into the intimate action, the soft warmth of his lips makes it easier than you'd ever imagined. He keeps his movements slow and gentle, you feel his tusks against your cheeks as you deepen the kiss.

When you separate for air he grins and nuzzles his forehead to yours, it's such a playful gesture, it makes you laugh rather breathlessly. You've never cried so much before meeting him, but you also never laughed as much. He places cheeky kisses on your forehead, nose and lips before you have to push his scruffy stubbled face away so you can hide your own burning hot face in your hands just to console your rapidly beating heart. He rests his head back onto the couch pillow with the same tired eyes as before, except now a dumb, self-satisfied grin adorns his face.

You ignore his amusement, climbing onto your way-too-small couch next to him. You lay your head over his heart, hearing the rhythmic beats. He holds you close and lets out a pleased grumble before his eyes flutter closed and he dozes off once more. You stay awake for some time, staring at the orc on your couch, his pretty carved tusks, his soft lips, his bare chest, his dark hair. It's sometime before you eventually doze off against his chest, lulled asleep by the up and down motion of his chest as he dreams.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

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[unavailableapple]

Like…DOES patriarchy hurt men though? There certain ways that it does but I feel like a lot of people insist it hurts men MORE. And uh…does it though?

-They have to be the breadwinner. Except they don’t…most households in the United States are two-income. It’s very difficult to have a one-income household in the modern climate of the economy. And women who still work as much as their husbands also have to come home and cook, clean, care for children, do laundry, etc.

-They aren’t allowed to dress fun. Except they are? Harry Styles gets on the cover of magazines for wearing an ugly dress. Movies like Wicked repeatedly show men in skirts. Social media is full of men wearing makeup and cute outfits and heels. I feel it’s become pretty normalized now for men to dress how they like. It’s just also normalized for them to dress comfortably, whereas I get a ridiculous amount of pushback for wearing pants, no makeup, not shaving my legs, and having short hair.

-They aren’t allowed to show emotions. Except they are? How many times has a video gone viral of a man crying because he loves his kids. All television, movies, books, etc are ever about is men’s feelings. Philosophy pretty much boils down to “men are sad”. The male loneliness epidemic is all I ever hear about…

-Men aren’t allowed to be gay. Neither are women???? I keep seeing this idea that women have an easier time being gay because they’re fetishized so much, whereas gay men are just treated as gross and weird. Sorry but like…no. Being treated like a porn search is not acceptance.

When men do experience hatred for being gay, wearing pink, or crying it’s literally because those things are womanly. Having sex with men is associated with women (that’s why “it’s not gay if you top”), pink is the “girl” color, crying is “feminine” aka WEAK. It all just reinforces the same thing: ‘woman’ is the worst thing to be.

But men are the victims here?

[ddollipop]

CURB THIS SICKNESS. . . ! — ( SOFT YANDERE!PLAGUE DOCTOR OC X READER. )

#. synopsis! — there's a virus outside that's snuffed out the lights of many. . . and lucian refuses to let you meet such a miserable fate .

#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , multiple orgasms , vaginal fingering , implications of paranoia , cum swallowing , oral sex , cunnilingus , blowjob , vaginal sex , obsessive behavior , frequent usage of endearment terms (love, darling, angel) , missionary position , bathing , established relationship , slight choking , slight hair pulling , creampie , biting .

#. word count! — 5.1k .

#. oc carrd! — click here to find more information on lucian + other original characters of mine that i might write for in the future! xx .

When the virus began to spread in all directions from its alleged location of origin, —you were certain you’d be dead before winter. If not from sickness, then certainly from another disease, or at the hands of some twisted maniac just searching for someone to slaughter that nobody would care enough to miss. You thought it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to hunger or thirst or the changing chill of autumn, or maybe something completely different: but something was bound to happen, and you were sure of it.

And it did. . . But it was nothing like what you had in mind.

Lucian may have seemed like something out of a horror story passed down through generations, still clad in his working attire the night he scooped you up in his arms from a shabby alleyway like a stray kitten, but he was surprisingly gentle (and perhaps unusually quiet.) He wasn’t very talkative, but he cared for you in a way you were completely unaccustomed to, —prepared you a warm meal, brewed you chamomile tea, ran you a hot bath, and gave you a place to sleep for the night. He said you were slightly fevered and a bit malnourished, but all things considered, it could have been worlds worse.

“You’re lucky,” he hummed, a gloved hand smoothing over your jaw, “the pestilence hasn’t taken hold of you.”

Even back then, that wasn’t why you felt lucky. . . No, much to the contrary, you felt lucky because this man had taken you in without expecting anything of you in return, and he sought to keep you safe from the rot of the outside world. Thus, little by little, you stopped caring much about going out there. 

His place is a bit quaint for two, but it’s homey, and it smells perpetually of lavender. Over time, he’s shifted the sleeping arrangements, and now you rest in his arms each night; about as close as one can get to being a lover without having the label.

A part of you is sure you could get it if you asked, but to you, it doesn’t matter much. At the end of each day, he comes home to you, and that’s what counts. You take care of the housework while he’s away (not that there’s ever much to do.) For as odd as he is, his living space is free of most things, —no trinkets unrelated to his work (which you are not keen on touching), and he’s meticulous about picking up after himself and keeping all his items in order, so your unofficial duties are few and far between. Otherwise, the rest boils down to cooking meals, washing clothes, and keeping yourself entertained while he’s away. . . Like some kind of glorified trophy wife.

And sure, this will probably get old eventually, but for now, this is what you’re working with. He likes to have you close and to know where you are, —to know that you’re safe and not out getting infected by anyone or anything. If you’re at his home, you’re safe from all the filth of the outside world, and heaven knows it’s so nice to come home and lie next to a body so utterly unmarred by the grime of society.

You’re sure once the virus has stilled, he’ll ease up.

But tonight is not that night. Lucian all but stumbles through the door, and you can hear his rapid breathing through the long, beak-like shape of his mask. He seems startled and frantic, and you rush over, a concerned expression crossing your features.

“Lucian? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

In an instant, he snatches your wrist and grabs for the other, holding one in either hand. His grip is fervent, but far from painful, and you become more confused the longer he goes without explaining the state he’s found himself in.

“Lucian—”

“Darling,” he cuts you off, “you mustn’t get near the door.”

“Okay,” you nod in compliance, “but why?”

“The pestilence has taken hold of this city,” he replies. “The air out there, you wouldn’t believe the thickness of that putrid aroma. It’s suffocating.”

Before you can ask if there’s something you can do to quench his worries, he tugs you away from the entrance and into the bathroom. He removes his gloves and sets them aside, reaching down to begin running a warm bath. Then he looks to you, almost expectantly.

“Strip, please,” he encourages, —saying it like he’s desperate for the act, albeit not necessarily under the context you’d prefer of him.

“Lucian—”

“Darling,” he hisses, “please, do as I ask of you.”

His bare hands cup your cheeks.

“Please,” he repeats.

It’s hard to deny him when he asks like that and has been so good to you, and it’s not as if he’s asking for a lot. He’s just having a bad night, and if scrubbing yourself down will help ease his mind a bit, you’re willing to put in that sliver of extra effort for his sake.

Lucian sighs in relief as you begin to disrobe.

“Thank you,” he comments. “I really don’t have a clue what I’d do if you fell ill. . . I don’t think my heart could handle such a thing.”

You slip the last of your clothing off and step gingerly into the filling tub. It’s not long enough to stretch out in, so you bunch yourself up neatly to fit the space and look up at him once more.

“I feel fine,” you assure.

“I’m glad,” he replies. “Even so, it’s much better to air on the side of caution. The human body is a dangerously fickle thing, and it can be incredibly fragile. I’ve seen as much firsthand more times than I can count. In its infancy, this virus is little more than a common cold, but progresses into something fatal at a rapid pace.”

You simply nod as he kneels next to the tub, rolling his sleeves up.

“Your breathing is ragged, Lucian,” you state, “you should take that mask off and get some fresh air.”

“After,” he answers quickly.

He reaches for the half-used lavender soap bar and lathers it on his palms, then reaches out to smooth the suds over your arms and neck. His motions are a little rough and all too urgent. This is far from the first time he’s accompanied you for a bath, but it is the first time he’s ever done so and been this aggressive in his approach (if only as a result of his own anxiety.)

For the time being, he seems to avoid your breasts, instead reaching for one of your legs to hike it up out of the water. He repeats this process with the other, cleaning you until he seems satisfied. When he makes no move to revisit your chest, you take the soap from his hand and lather it yourself, placing it in its previous spot before leaning back slightly and allowing your hands to travel where you’d have liked for his to go.

Lucian watches but doesn’t touch. Your fingertips nudge at your nipples, feeling them harden under the minstrations, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. If nothing else, he should be getting the hint by now.

Surprisingly, you’ve never had sex with him in all the months you’ve spent curled up in his arms, sleeping in his bed. He’s watched you take care of yourself on a number of occasions, has helped with his fingers another few times, —and allowed you to wrap your hand around him once a few weeks prior; but anything beyond that has seemed to be off limits. You’ve chalked it up to his shyness, or perhaps his distaste for human contact as a result of the pestilence; but tonight feels distinctly different.

Even in his previous state of frazzlement, Lucian seems all too content to sit back and watch you fondle your own breasts, soapy fingers clutching and releasing in tandem. You’ve always liked for him to watch you do things like this. Though his mask obscures the view of his face, you just know his eyes are trained on you, soaking up every movement, and you like to think he’s drooling at the way you grope yourself for his enjoyment (and for your own.)

“Lucian?” You prompt, half-lidded eyes glancing over to him.

His shoulders straighten as you say his name.

“You’re very beautiful,” he says, words almost too muffled by the mask to be made out.

“You think so?” You smirk a bit.

“I do.”

Ah, but that’s nothing new, and it’s nothing he hasn’t shared with you before. On the very night he took you in and washed your hair, he smoothed his gloved hands against your scalp and mumbled about how pretty you looked, even with dirt still caked on your skin. Even covered in filth from the alleyways you’d been sleeping in, he thought you were nothing less than stunning, —a real vision to behold, and he’s never skimped on such compliments.

You pause for a moment, reaching out to grasp for his hands. He allows the gesture, though he seems a bit confused, leaning in closer to the rim of the tub as you position him to your liking.

“Do you think I feel feverish?” You inquire, placing one of his hands on your neck and another on one of your breasts.

He makes no move to pull away, firming his grip up almost instantaneously, as if he’s been itching to feel you this way.

“Perhaps a bit warm,” he mumbles, taking a moment to roll your nipple between two nimble fingers, “but body temperature is known to rise during times of. . .” he trails off, clears his throat, then utters: “arousal.”

You trail your nails down his arm, letting your head tip back again. His hands are a bit calloused, but they feel so good against your skin, and you let a few moans slip past your lips. It’s not often he touches you like this without his gloves on, but the flesh-on-flesh contact is electrifying.

“Not to worry you, but I do feel a bit strange,” you huff slightly.

Through the slightly tinted bath water, Lucian can still watch your hand as it travels between your thighs.

“I’m just a throbbing mess,” you hum, giving him a pointed stare; “but you’ll take care of me. . . Right, Doctor?”

It may just be your imagination, but you could swear you heard his breathing shudder at that request. You’ve never been this forward with him, but something apart from the facial expression that’s still hidden away tells you that he likes where this is going. His fingers clamp down on the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to make taking in air a bit more of a struggle, but not anywhere near hard enough to be fatal.

The bit about being a throbbing mess was by no means an exaggeration on your part, so you take matters into your own fingers for the time being, drawing circles on your clit beneath the water.

“Of course,” he finally finds the voice to agree, “—I’d do anything to keep you from feeling unwell.”

That is what you like to hear.

“Anything?”

“Anything.” 

His grip tightens on your throat again, for emphasis, and with that, he seems to come slightly undone.

“Darling, that’s why I’ve demanded you stay here in my home, —our home. It’s safe here, free of contaminants and filth and anything that could cause you harm,” he says, the words spilling out like he’s been holding them back since he first set his sights on you.

“The world outside is ill, not just this rotten city. I’m working tirelessly to combat this pestilence, but as things stand now, the safest place you can be is here. With me. You understand that, my love. . . Don’t you?”

You’re only half listening, but you nod in agreement anyway. Whatever he’s saying, you trust his opinion on the matter.

“Of course,” you gasp, almost slipping a finger inside yourself to the tune of his melodic voice.

“I knew you would,” he continues, loosening the grip on your neck again. “You know I only want what’s best for you, that everything I do is to ensure your safety, —to eliminate the possibility of you ever falling sick.”

“Of course,” you repeat, head growing cloudier by the minute. “You’ve always taken such good care of me, right from the very beginning.”

God, he’s so elated that you’re seeing things his way. The way this makes him feel is almost too much to handle.

“I try so hard, darling, I truly do,” he says, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

“Please, Lucian,” you mumble desperately, “I need you tonight.”

He complies, shedding his long coat and draping it over your shoulders once you’ve stepped out of the tub. The chill of the air against your wet skin leaves your nipples hard and sensitive, and as he leads you to the bedroom, you hope he realizes just what it is you’re asking for. His fingers are a plentiful start, and you just know they’ll feel so good stuffed inside you, curling to hit all the right places, —but they’re nothing compared to the cock he’s stingily hidden away for all this time.

Tonight, you want him in all his glory in the glow of the lanterns on the walls. You want to strip him bare and gag on the length between his thighs, feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, tease every vein that runs up his shaft. It’s not enough to grind against him while you’re half asleep or hump his clothed thigh until you’ve left his pants damp and your pussy sopping, just begging to be fucked by this man who might just love you more than he could ever fear any virus that lurks outside these walls.

“Don’t fret,” he tells you, though it sounds more like a command than a gesture to soothe any worries, “just lie back. I’ll be sure to give you. . . A proper examination.”

You could cum just hearing that.

With half your body pressed against the headboard and his coat nearly slipping off your body completely, he sets to work in his underclothes and mask. It’s by no means an uncommon sight, but there’s something distinct about him this late evening; the way his black attire contrasts so beautifully with the stark paleness of his skin and the mystery it shrouds him in that you’re just dying to sink your teeth into. Everything hidden beneath that cautious wardrobe and that long mask. . . You’ve gotta have it. It’s a necessity.

His fingers, ungloved, begin softly with your calves, tracing senseless lines.

“I’m not so fragile,” you remind him.

For as oblivious as he can be, Lucian takes the hint, and by the time he’s reached your thighs, he’s content to give them the same treatment as your throat.

The way he splits you apart is almost painfully clinical, a thumb on either side of your lips, peering through the eye holes of his mask to admire the way your folds glisten in the orange lantern light. A few prodding strokes leave you biting your lip again, body waning in anticipation for the moment he finally turns his hand over and sinks the longest of his fingers inside you, —slowly, but deliberately. It’s impossible to see his expression, but you hope his mouth hangs open a little at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, encouraging him to prod more and maybe stuff another few inside for you to grind against.

There’s something about the warmth of his fingers that gets you off almost in equal amounts to the way he moves. Another finger inside, and you whine, halfway to an orgasm from this alone.

He’s not particulary rough in his execution, but there’s a clean meticulousness in every movement that leaves every cell in your body craving more, begging for anything he can offer. Months upon months of wanting, of dropping hints, of hoping he’d catch on and finally see things your way, —and at last, you’ve made it. And now that you’re here, you’re content to simply lie still and let him have his way with you.

“Please don’t stop,” you beg, nearly choking on the words when the tips of his fingers brush just the right spot.

“Before you’re satisfied?” He sits forward a bit, resting his free hand on your stomach to press you down onto the bed. “Darling, I couldn’t fathom it.”

You will your upper body forward, grabbing for the hand on your stomach to move it up to your throat. He squeezes, scissoring the fingers inside you, watching closely as your body shakes and your eyes roll back a bit in ecstasy.

“I’ve tried,” he says to you suddenly. “I’ve tried so desperately to be gentle with you.”

You smile.

“I appreciate that,” you answer. “But I don’t want you to be gentle at the moment.”

“That’s a dangerous request, my love,” he warns.

God, you hope so.

You reach forward and grab at the beak of his mask, pulling it upward gently until it begins to slip off and reveal the handsome face underneath. Dark hair, dark eyes, but skin almost pale enough to be sickly, you meet his gaze just long enough to ask for permission, then lean in to kiss him on the mouth. It’s the first time, and it’s electric. He’s avoided this for months, —avoided your mouth, your unspoken pleas, all the passes you made for the sake of keeping himself at bay. But here you are now with two of his fingers stuffed inside you, his hand on your throat, and your lips slotted against his own.

“Please,” you murmur, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

And you can feel the restraints of his mind come unwound.

He’s no longer gentle in the way he fucks you silly with his fingers, hammering them over and over and over again into that delicious spot buried deep inside you, squeezing your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off. The way your pussy spasms as you cum is blissful, and he loves the way your arousal soaks his digits, loves the way your back arches, soundless moans spilling forth as he makes you orgasm.

“I fucking tried,” he says again.

It’s almost manic, so desperate and sort of pathetic in the kind of way that turns you on. This is the first time you’ve ever heard him curse, and it dawns on you that even the filthiest of words sound so unendingly elegant when they’re spoken by Lucian.

“I tried to be gentle. I tried to keep you safe here, —to shelter you from whatever forsaken wasteland remains out there,” he insists, his fingers still buried in your twitching cunt. “I just wanted to protect you.”

He lightens the grip on your throat as you lean in to kiss him again, cupping his face in your hands.

“You have,” you assure him.

“You take such good care of me, Lucian,” you mumble into his ear. “Let me show you how grateful I am.”

The fingers stuffed inside you slowly slip out, and reach for his hand, guiding them to your lips, taking his digits into your mouth to taste yourself on them. He watches with hunger and interest as you clean him with your tongue. He leans in to kiss you to get a taste of it himself, grasping your hair near the scalp and taking a fistful hard enough to make you gasp.

“I can’t let you leave,” he murmurs. “It’s not safe out there. When this pestilence has been subdued, I’ll do this all correctly. We can start from the beginning, and I’ll be a gentleman.”

“I look forward to it,” you answer softly.

“You’ll stay until then?” He inquires.

He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to care when you just want him inside you. Lucian has seen death day in and day out, —so it’s no wonder it feels like it permeates everything around him. He just doesn’t want you to suffer such a fate, and you’re confident that you won’t, as long as he’s yours.

“Of course I will,” you answer.

It’s like something primal takes over. Suddenly his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his hands are grasping roughly at your breasts, pushing you down onto the bed as he crawls between your legs. He pauses, hovering just above your dripping cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the meat of your thigh. It makes you squeal a bit, and he kisses the teethmarks he left behind as if in apology.

You can’t help but wonder how long he’s been yearning for this. It’s like every part of him is thrumming from the thrill of it all, and this man who has previously refused to even kiss you on the mouth is now stationed exactly where you want him, tongue lolling out to lick a solid stripe up your folds. He laps like a man starved, then spreads you apart with his thumbs to suck your clit mercilessly.

It’s good enough to make your vision go blurry, and you can’t seem to form proper words through the haze. Desperately, your fingers claw at the sheets of this mattress, and he moans against your hot cunt, sending a vibration rippling through your core that makes your back arch on instinct. You mumble something that comes out like gibberish, pussy convulsing against the flat of his tongue.

His arm comes round to press your hips down, forcing you to be still. It’s the kind of toruture you’re sure you’ll learn to live for. There’s only so much you can wriggle under his arm, which has a surprising amount of force despite his rather lanky stature.

From what little friction you manage as you attempt to grind against his tongue, you tip yourself over the edge and as the knot in your stomach unties for the second time tonight, he continues licking, lapping at the juices that spill forth.

He stands and reaches for the top button of his shirt, not bothering to wipe his face, chin and lips glistening with your aftermath. You watch him undress with lustful eyes, propping yourself up on your elbow, then slinking back against the headboard once again, resting your weary body against it. The quiver of your thighs doesn’t stop you from nudging at your swollen clit.

“I wanted to be a gentleman,” he comments, untucking the shirt from his pants and pulling the front open.

It’s not skin you haven’t seen before. In fact, you’ve seen every inch of him at one point or another; just never all at once, and now, you’re waiting with bated breath to see him completely exposed for your eyes only.

“I truly did. I wanted to give you comfort and security, —to love you as you deserve. And I knew from the moment I saw you that only I could give you exactly what you’ve always needed.”

You hum in acknowledgement as he continues to strip himself bare.

“But it’s so clear to me now that I’ve neglected you,” he continues. “This beautifully desperate display is all a result of my negligence. . . I failed to realize just how much you needed me like this. How much you needed the touch of a man. . .”

He sounds apologetic, but your eyes are fixated on his half-hard cock. The last time you saw it, he asked that you keep your mouth away; insisting it wasn’t sanitary to use it for such purposes, terrified that you might contract some sort of illness if you sucked his dick for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. This time, however, you have a feeling you’re well past that.

To test the waters, you let your hand fall away from your cunt, slipping off the side of the bed to kneel before him. He gazes down at you as you open your lips and let your tongue fall out, encouraging him to make what he will of it.

“My love,” he says, placing four fingers under your chin to rest his thumb against your tongue for a moment, “—I’ll make everything up to you. . .”

His free hand pumps his cock once, twice, thrice, —then he places it gently on the flat of your tongue, letting you feel the weight and the warmth of it. He sighs.

“Darling,” he groans, “ah. . .”

It takes very little for him to come close to cumming in your mouth, just a few minutes of sucking him off, listening to him moan, feeling him quiver at your touch. You hum with his member stuffed down your throat, and he cants his hips reflexively, an orgasm bubbling up beneath his skin.

Your non-dominant hand holds his cock steady while the other is stuck between your thighs, rubbing furiously at your clit, making you whimper along his shaft. When he notices, Lucian finds that wholly unacceptable and snatches you up to position you on the edge of the bed, relieving the pressure on your aching knees. You weren’t down there for long, but kneeling was hardly comfortable on the hard floor.

He spreads your thighs apart and smacks the pads of his fingers against your slit.

Whatever he’s doing, you’re sure you’ll enjoy it to the fullest, so you occupy yourself with his cock again from this new angle, bending awkwardly to mouth at the reddened tip. His fingers find their way inside you once more, working their delicate magic, brushing against all the right places. At this point, you’re more desperate for his dick to slip inside you like this, but you take what he offers in stride (and more of him into your mouth in the process.)

He’s vocal, and that’s utterly divine. His gravely moans and the pump of his fingers leave you cumming for a third time before his first orgasm arises, depositing a sizable amount of his seed into your mouth.

“I love you,” he huffs, —and if he were anyone else, you’d be certain it was just the oral sex talking, but no. . . Lucian wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.

Of course, he’s made similar confessions over the months, and has certainly treated you like it long before he ever expressed it so directly, but still. . . It feels nice to hear it, if nothing else.

“I love you too,” you answer honestly, urging him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m yours tonight, completely. . . If you’ll have me. . .”

“Oh, darling, don’t be foolish,” he remarks, kissing you deeply. “You’ve been mine since the moment we met.”

Your back to the cool sheets, he lingers over you now, his shadow looming over you so monstrously. There’s a stark flush of red on his face that has begun to spread down the length of his neck, and one of his hands finds its way to your breasts as the other smoothes across your thigh. The head of his cock kisses your sopping entrance, sending a series of chills from the top of your spine to the bottom.

His breath on your neck makes your chest tighten, and he finds your lips with his own again as he sinks inside you, filling you up.

“Lucian,” you whimper, helpless to his touch as he pauses, buried down to the hilt inside your cunt.

He presses a few gentle kisses to your throat, murmuring something about how nice it feels to be stuffed inside you. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders as you adjust to his intrusion.

“You must understand by now,” he says, mumbling the words right next to your bitten earlobe. “Everything I do is for you.”

“I do,” you gasp slightly. 

As he begins to move, your walls clench around him, and he exhales deeply against the junction of your neck and shoulder. You roll your hips to match his pace, but as he goes faster, that becomes fruitless. Eventually, you resign yourself to the fate of lying there against the pillows, speared on his cock, him making a mess of you as you moan uncontrollably.

This was everything you’d been hoping for and then some, like some erotic dream come to life. Lucian’s lips travel where they please, —stopping to peck at your jaw, then to suck on your throat. Your breathing is haggard, and he smooths a hand down your side, resting it against your hip for a moment.

“Just a little more,” he whispers, as if to be reassuring.

“Just look how stunning you are, angel,” he murmurs, “how pretty you look like this.”

He kisses you once more.

“You take this so well, like your body was made for me.”

You’re delirious enough to believe that might be the case.

His cock pounds a little harder, and he hits the perfect spot, tearing a desperate yelp from your throat. You’re overstimulated and weak, but your high is itching just under your skin, and you couldn’t bear to see it disappear.

“Please,” you whimper to him, completely at his mercy, “—please, I’m so close.”

He loves the desperation that clings to your voice. The hand on your hip travels to your clit, pressing roughly against the abused little button, making you jerk slightly. He rubs a few heavy circles against it, and you come undone, cunt spasming around his cock as he chases his own release inside you.

Lucian is sloppy near the end, which may just be the only time you’ve ever known him to not be perfectly calculated and precise. His breath hits your neck again, over and over as he huffs through the hunt, finally sinking his teeth in when he comes to a finish. His cum sits hot inside your cunt, and he catches his breath for a moment, head resting against your throat.

“I apologize,” he utters. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”

You exhale slowly, his cock still buried in your heat.

“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, “I enjoyed myself.”

You feel him smile against your neck.

“I’m glad, darling.”

For the first time, he sleeps next to you without clothing, letting you touch every part of him, tangling your limbs together. Your face buried in the crook of his neck, breath fanning softly against him, as close to sleep as you can manage without tumbling over the precipice, Lucian reaches for his long coat and drapes it over your body, holding you closer.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

I wonder if anyone would know how to deal with an infected apocalypse Yuu?

First Years In Hell

***

This is actually something I think abt a lot. The first years in apocalypses together and shit. I actually had a weird idea on this and inspiration struck so lemme ramble. This ramble turned I to a full on fic of 4.2k words so...

Content ahead: Yuu is GN with no description, Fluff to comfort to romantic to hurt no comfort, angst ending as thats my brand, poly first years sorta (minus Ortho ofc), group make out session, alcohol, decriptions of violence Idk, Rambley because Yuu and everyone are losing their shit.

***

Imagine it. A zombie apocalypse has happened and the world seems to have collapsed much too fast for all of you.

Yet right now, at this moment, it doesn't matter.

You are all gathered around the crackling fire in front of you, having found a safe place in a dilapidated building for the night. Epel is cracking open a can of some god awful processed mush with a knife like he does his apples. Jack is ensuring the fire is fed. Your head rests on Ace's shoulder along with Deuce on the opposite side, enjoying the moment of warmth and comfort. Ortho is there in sleep mode to conserve himself...

The boy insists that he doesn't need rest and his battery can last a long time, even some of his parts that were bent and warped still functioned well enough. Deuce maintains him the best he could. You all look after the boy like he’s human, like he’s the collective little brother. His battery can last forever yet you all carry rudimentary batteries on you just in case. Perhaps too much. They may not work on him but just maybe, maybe they can also be used in an emergency, not just to charge your own devices.

Sebek, ever the stubborn, ordered Ortho to rest, and that HE will keep first guard for the night. The knight, yes you call him a knight and not some knight in training as he earned that title in everyone’s eyes, stands tall and surveys the area carefully. His was hand on the hilt of his sword ready to draw it at the drop of a single leaf. He was so… so… charming. Caring. Sweet. Though you can never say it out loud. Such cutesy terms to describe him were silly but accurate and he'd deny every one.

“Food's goin’, should be done in a minute or so. I’m gonna set some traps.” Epel got up, stirred the small cooking pot of assorted rations and then started searching in his own bag. There was a good wire and scrap in there, along with the wire saw he used to help cut down some wood. Empty aluminum cans were pulled out, along with spare wire.

”Don’t use too much.” Jack murmurs. Those cans were like gold. So much you can craft from them alone. “I know, I know ‘m just gonna set up some noise makers.” Sebek looked at him with his stern gaze. “I will watch.”

… The food smelled good for slop. Ace looked at the boiling pot, blinking a few times. “Alright I'll finish it off.” Ace sighs before Deuce pushes him back down as he tries to get up. “Nah, I got it.” Ace doesn’t argue, it's clear he’s tired from all the magic he used and Deuce wants to occupy himself. Jack watches Deuce stir the pot emptily. The wolf usually does rounds to make sure everything is in order but today he just stares out.

Perhaps it was from the conversation earlier today. When Ace mentioned he hoped his brother and his parents made it to a safehouse. Everyone was silent for a moment, letting the weight sink in, agreeing with the sentiment. You don’t know who started crying first. If it was Deuce regretting not being a good son for long for long enough. If it was Sebek's restrained breakdown to not give away your positions. If it was Ace that started it all. Maybe it was Ortho shaking in all his metal. Epel crying for his meemaw. Maybe it was you who was already so far from home when this all happened.

Jack, though clearly shaken, told everyone to pull it together. It isn't safe to cry in the wastelands. I guess right now it finally seemed to have caught up to him. Shittest vacation ever. Seriously. One trip out of NRC to have some fun as first years then this? With every means of transport and teleportation now gone? Just you dumb fucking luck. You swear you have to be cursed. Some trouble magnet with all the dumb situations you’ve been in since getting stuck in this world. It was all your fault.

”Cripes!” Deuce hissed out as some of the soup popped out and burnt him. Hah, it was funny. Even now he’s trying to clean up his act by cursing less. “Tch… Loosey Deucey over here…” Ace snickered. “Oi!” Deuce glared over at him but didn't retaliate, focusing back on the soup. Jack actually lets out a hum of amusement, spirits lifting slowly.

”Jeet?” Epel asked, walking back to the fire. “Huh?” Ace gives him an odd look. “Jeet?” “Don’t know what that means.” Epel let out a sigh, hands on his hips. “Did ya eat? The food looks done.”

”…” There were more aluminum cans in Epels bag with the tops cut off. It was what you all used to scoop up the soup that was made. Sebek filled his can quickly before turning back to guard. “… Why don’t you join us Sebek? We're still up after all.” You say to him, making him tense a bit.

”Nonsense Yuu, I must keep watch.” You let out an annoyed sigh. “Come on Sebek. Let's enjoy this moment together okay? It was a good day! Sure there were some hiccups but there were more highlights. Got more good stuff from the wandering merchants, no zombies, nice weather… And were so much closer to the outpost. We can make it tomorrow! Plus, after tonight our meals are gonna get better, we're just using up the old ones. We can actually make a proper breakfast in the morning!”

Sebek looked off. “… Please?” You just want to pretend everything is normal. That this was just another camp Vargus trip. Not some living hell. “I mean Jack will definitely hear any trouble first with those big ass ears of his.” Jack shoots you a look. Despite that, his ears wiggling told the story.

Sebek sighed, then relented, sitting down at the fire and sipping the soup. Epel hums as he slurps his can. “This is good.” You all followed, surprised at how good it is. Small conversations and stories are shared as you lean more onto Ace in exhaustion. Deuce leans into you also. Jack soon follows, resting close by, tail out in hopes to protect you three from the cold. Epel was there too. Conserving body heat. That's all you were doing. But deep inside you all knew that you all missed some sort of skinship. Sebek merely looks at the pile, then to Ortho nearby in sleep mode. He huffs, then gets up to keep guard. Right next to all of you.

The following day was a blessing. Made breakfast. Beat down one zombie with magic and it was the only you saw. You all found a spring to wash your filthy casual clothes along with the dumb NRC uniforms as well. Epel even came with his dorm uniform, Vil’s orders but like hell he’d listen to him out here. It came in clutch actually. It was cut up into an array of blankets for each of you. Light and airy yet wonderfully warm. Some scrap was used to make Ortho a small scarf.

Then there it was: the settlement you all were waiting for right in front of your eyes. Ortho was right, it was a big one. Sure, perhaps it wasn’t a safe house but it was protected well. It was an entire town, fit with shops, hotels, wifi, even entertainment. After getting checked for bites you all scurried to barter and trade with various shop owners for cash to buy a room for an Inn.

It was barely enough for one room but you’ve all had to be crammed in tighter spaces before so what does it matter. At least it was a king bed, enough for you all to fold on top of each other and pass out in. The mattress was a lumpy stiff haven. Food at the inn was cheap but you will need jobs, at least for a bit as you all figure out what to do from here.

For now, you are all able to actually use your phones. Go through old photos, videos, hell even people on magicam were active, sharing useful information for everyone. Vil was posting. Cater too, his magicam actually being a great resource for crafty survival tips. Those two were okay at least. Ortho was already cracking better numbers here.

“Mom?” Deuce held his phone to his ear as he paced around anxiously, before shouting ‘mom’ again with a tearful smile as he collapsed. “You’re still alive!” There was sniffling and weeping but everyone was happy for him. He had his moment uninterrupted.

Tomorrow the job hunt began. Sebek was easily taken in as a guard, Epel was a farmhand, Jack would deliver and unpack crates, Ortho helped with settlement planning, Ace mainly did side gigs and Deuce actually acted as security in quite a few places. You worked at the Inn you were stayed at, it lessened the rent for sure.

It was actually nice the few weeks you were there. It felt normal. Even doing the most mundane tasks you took for granted was bliss. You’d all return to your shared room as you chatted about the day, deciding what to do for dinner and who’s sleeping where this time.

Then one night, one of the best things since all of this happened. Ortho made contact with STYX. You all gathered around his projection watching with rapt attention. Idia was there. There was a sweet reunion before he started up business.

Damn near everyone at school was fine, and made it to the STYX safehouse with him. It was a relief. “Lucky assholes.” You think Ace murmured. The coordinates and map was now with you. It was a week's worth of walking away and no way are any of the vehicles here built to go far out at all.

“Maybe a blast cycle?” Deuce hums. “If you can find one that fits us all.” Jack smirked a bit at Deuce’s ‘oh right’ face. “Besides they were probably ripped apart for materials.”

”Welp,” you sigh, “We walked this far, may as well continue right?” Everyone sighed. They knew it was the only way.

Tonight called for celebration however, Ortho was out for supplies for the trip and quick repairs and said not to worry about him. To continue to celebrate. You all sat in the inn, indulging the food and music and laughter of the bards. Hooting and hollering as you make your toasts and talk about how far you all made it and how things are looking up.

Hells, there was even a tinge of alcohol involved. Just a bit, not like the others drank too much you think but you definitely had at least two of whatever the hell. You were tipsy for sure, maybe buzzed. The lively environment influenced you to. It had you giggly, your friends more so with all of their dumb jokes.

Ace was leaning next to you. Maybe he drank a bit too or you were just wobbly but you both look at each other's eyes and features. You don’t remember what you were talking about but it devolved into quiet. “… I like you Yuu, I like you a lot. I mean… You and the rest of them…” He was leaning into you now. “Are probably the greatest ones I met…” Your noses touched. “I like you too.” “Haha really? How about you prove—“

You don’t remember who initiated the kiss but you remember his soft lips and chapstick on your own. You remember Deuce standing there shocked before he was pulled in and you were all over each other and no doubt got drunker from each kiss shared. You swear you remember Sebek's flustered face and how you all trudged up the stairs aftwe r being told to go rest in your room where all of you then collapsed onto the floor. You don’t remember much about Jack and Epel but there’s fur on your shirt and Epel was on your chest as you stared up from the splintery floor you laid on.

It wasn’t brought up again. Not acknowledged. For the most part. Sometimes you would all have knowing looks in your eyes and small quiet moments between you that have you both a bit flustered when nothing even romantic is happening. Nothing happened that night. Nothing at all.

Maybe it’s because it was a lot to take in. Maybe it was too fast and confusing. Maybe you all don‘t know how to proceed. Where would you take this? How would this work? Perhaps they don't want to admit their feelings but you won’t either.

I mean it was just much needed skinship. A coping mechanism even. A way to live out all the things they may not have in the future. There will be no prom. No girlfriends or boyfriends out here in this environment. No fancy dates. No crazy but reasonably dangerous adventures. You knew a few of them dreamed of marriage, kids even, but that may never happen like this.

That was it, yeah. It was another break from reality. It was just like a movie scene of a stupid coming of age movie where the protagonist has a wild night out that shapes his life and is the beginning of a stupid adventure. It was just pretend. Business as usual. All that mattered is that you were all still a team. That all of you would go to extreme lengths to protect each other.

It’s for the better. You don’t know if you don't mind it or not. So much yet nothing changed. Everyone stays by each other's sides not out of obligation or some crazy plot but because you all care for each other.

Ortho did lecture you all about passing out on the floor. Seriously, what were you all doing? Did you really party that hard when you all have to start your walk today? At least you all made it up safe.

Perhaps drinking wasn’t the best idea. You have a minor headache now but nothing too bad. There weren’t a lot of zombies. It all felt off. You weren’t gonna look a gift mouse-horse in the magic though right? Or however that saying goes here.

The night was lovely though. Sharing stories around the fire. Remember when Epel got bit protecting Ace and everyone freaked out? Thank god catching diseases by saliva was as rare as it is. Or the time you walked past graveyards in a rush because you all didn’t trust it. How for once you all celebrated finding a dead body because it was too eaten up to turn? Having to eat bugs? Or that time where everyone was in a rough spot but we fought everyone off like a badass? Remember how grocery stores were a thing? Crazy in retrospect. Stories were shared and shared and shared until the sun rose.

For the next few days it was nonstop walking. The expedition slowed a bit. Half a week behind. It was fine though. You all were getting by great. Maybe you should have considered buying a mule. Slowly but slowly you were right there to the base. Just a few more hours away. Play it safe.

It was going well. So well. You see the shelter right there. You were saved.

A horrible gurgling was heard from the right of you from the woods. Everyone was tense and ready to fight. Your pistol ran out of ammo but you still got your blade and bow. You don't need any magic… but it would be nice.

These zombies were quick, no doubt freshly turned. They charge at an unsettling speed, janky movement making their top half flop. One down. Two down… More came out. An ambush!

Three was incinerated. Four was sliced down the middle… God it went for a bit too long but it was over. Magic is now spent and the adrenaline makes you exhausted.

It wasn't over. Of course it wasn’t over. You’re a goddamned curse. Everything goes wrong around you. It was naive of you to even think that good things happen around you. Trouble always finds you. You have a goddamned flaw on this very universe that shouldn’t even be here and the world is punishing you for it. Maybe if you just didn’t join them, they would have been safer.

The bone chilling cries of a new-risen zombie boomed much too loud. You all swallowed, backing away before you saw it. This wasn't just any mutant— it was a mage. A mage that overblotted. Their skin was pale but they looked intact for the most part. Just like a human.

Fresh zombies are always the most terrifying. Not because of the extreme strength brought on by adrenaline or that they are bullet sponges that can fight for hours. It was because the mind of the original person was still there. Their habits, their speech.

The zombie just stared, wide eyed… and their pupils dilated. The creature's rotting jaw turns upwards into a wicked smile of clacking teeth. One hand was playing with its filthy hair like it was trying to tie it back— something no doubt the original person would have done. Their mind isn’t fully gone yet and it’s unsettling for you to see them as a person that had hopes, dreams, goals in life. What they were before…

“Hi. Hi. Hello.” it tried to speak as much as it's corrupted mind would let it

To say they charged at you was an understatement. They were the damn carriage that hit you at Mach fuck. Adrenaline is a terrifying thing. Its teeth clacked with each attempt to bite you as you managed to wrestle out from beneath it despite the lacerations you sustained. A bite from them may actually kill you.

“YUU!” Jack screamed out.

”Fuck! I can’t put them in glass, I can’t even cast it!”

There was a shriek from you as the nrw turned above you grabbed your leg so tight— too tight— the flesh is coming right off! Your cries did nothing to stop it nor did the damn knife that you sunk into its head over and over. It doesn’t budge, doesn't flinch. You're lucky to have been alive this long.

The creature was then pushed off of you— not before taking a good chunk out of your leg. Fuck it may have to be amputated— where was Epel’s wire saw again? You don’t know but it hurts and you can barely stand to help as you can only watch Jack tearing the monster apart in wolf form and Sebek trying to cut through its sick mutant neck. A panic rushed through you, Jack is using such strong magic with full blot—

”Yuu!” Epel slid over to you as did Ortho and dropped down to assess your wound. “Cmon cmon!” Epel was putting pressure on one of the punctures as Ortho scanned. “Cover us!” The card duo already were. Deuce was up close and personal with each jab, each cut that did nothing to it. Ace was crazy enough to take off his overcoat and get behind the thing to wrap it between its mouth. Helping to slow its bite speed. “C’mon Sebek, I’m gonna try to pull it back so you can dismember it!”

Fuck fuck fuck. You're a sitting duck that invited the other two to join you. It’s not worth it. “Don’t worry about me right now! Go help them take it down!” Epel looked at you as if you were crazy. “But Yuu, you’ve sustained critical blood loss!” Ortho yelped. You took in a breath, “And if they die I’ll continue to bleed out anyways— help them!”

They couldn't argue. Epel just took off his coat and handed it to you to cover your thigh. All you can do is watch. Orthos lasers were weakened, Epel’s weapon could only do so much and he was just an inch away from the thing. It’s no good. It caught you all on an unlucky day. This was it… No no no. You’re smart, you can do this. You’ve survived this long.

The tree! A thick Redwood! It looks as though the base was rotting out at a wonderful angle. Epel’s wire saw peaked out of the bag near you… You know what you have to do. No, you aren’t using the saw to cut down the tree, it would take too much time. You’re dead either way.

The monster's torn jaws are just now inches away from Sebek as it leaped forward, just to be pulled back by a wire saw around its throat. “YUU! What are you DOING?!” Sebek was yelling and so were the others. “Yuu! You only have a 2% survival rate!”

You know. You know you're dying. May as well go out like this.

The beast tries to shake you off as you direct it to face the tree with the wire around its neck like a horse with its bridle. Sebek taught you this now that you think about it. It tries to shake you off again and you allow it— backing up a good distance towards the tree in hopes it charges. Ace realizes what you are doing, then everyone else does too.

”Yuu no!” Who was it that said that? They sounded hysterical and it would be something you would totally hold over them. You can't hear them over the pounding in your head and rancid clicking of the creature. And you really can't hear them when you feel the sudden slap of the tree against your back and the beast's teeth tearing off some flesh of your stomach.

It was blurry. And painful. But the rush— oh the rush of it all was pure euphoria. Your body slipped out from the creature as it charged into the tree, tossing you to the side and allowing you to see that thing get crushed instantly. It was wiggling still, but it was trapped and that’s all it mattered. I mean look! Deuce just finished it off! Or is it Ortho? Sorry, it's just so hard to see.

A chorus of ‘Yuu’’s sang to you and your vision is obscured by shadows. You feel hands all over, pressing, holding, supporting. Someone above you put your head onto his lap. You know what it feels like. Yes, you remember that.

They’re leaning in so close. It was Deuce just right above you. You see them now. Jack’s in now in his usual form as he supports a few broken parts of your body. Orthos is trying to cauterize wounds, scanning rapidly, desperately, as Ace and Sebek and Epel all try to help. Everyone seems to be holding onto you for comfort though.

“Nonononono—“ Ace shakes and Sebek is letting out strings of ‘damn it’s fall from his mouth in anger. They’re all clinging, desperate, hoping somehow they can save you.

You know it.

They know it.

You’re not surviving this one.

“Hah… it's useless you know? I’m dying. There's nothing you can do.” It feels like you swallowed burning hot coals as you speak.

“Shut yer damn mouth you— you…” Epel was crying now.

“This can’t be happening.” Jack shakes, eye wide.

Ortho is trying to rationalize it all, blubbering any possible solution or possibility, scanning for rates over and over and over until he dissolves into sobs. “You’re DNA might have a cure— you can't die!”

“The audacity of you humans! You—- You aren't to leave us! I COMMAND you Yuu. That you ARE NOT going to succumb to this! SO DON’T ACT LIKE YOU ARE!”

Deuce choked. ”Yuu.. Please don’t.. Please don’t go. You‘re… you‘re my best friend you believed me— all of us! I can’t— I dreamed of us graduating and…”

”No. This is it. It’s over… Guys, if you need my body to sustain you—“

”Hell no! Don’t even finish that sentence!” Ace hisses. “Please… not like this..”

”Don’t worry, don’t worry… I’m at peace, truly. It was an honor to be with you all. I’m glad I’m dying with you around me, I’m even more glad you are all okay.”

”Yuu…” Deuce is leaning down trying to wipe away tears. You may as well reach up to kiss him one last time right? Your breath hitches as you do and when you pull away Deuce is shaking.

”Just promise me alright? Promise me that you will all live, not just survive, live. That you will all be kind to each other after this okay? That you will all… kick ass if you need to!” You had a much nicer thought but they were incoherent. Your mouth can't catch up to your brain. “Promise me okay?” Tears were now finally falling. “Can you just hold me a little more? Please?”

The sun is pretty. It's even nicer when you're around all your friends and being held like this. If only you could have done this back then.

“… I think I’m just gonna close my eyes and rest a bit…”

Then everything faded.

Sobs and shouts and cries was the only music played at your funeral.

[kimingyuslover]

Sweet Revenge

Synopsis : You get into a fatal car incident, but later you wake up and find yourself back in the past. You vows to take revenge on your adopted family.

Word count : 7,750

Pairing : Choi Seungcheol x reader.

Genre : Romance, revenge drama, contract marriage, time traveler!au & smut.

Warnings : mean stepmother & stepsister, mentions of car crash and fire incident, CEO SEUNGCHEOL, make out session that leads to both individuals doing sex, smut, red leading to black flag ex, infidelity (not reader and seungcheol), mention of period, sexual tension(?), lovey-dovey couple, sexy and delicious seungcheol 🫦🫦, simp!seungcheol, he fell first and they both fell harder.

★ THIS IS MY VERY FIRST FIC THAT REACH MORE THAN 3K WORDS AAA, and sorry for the delay because i forgot what the ending was supposed to look like, also the smut warning below. enjoy reading it, xoxo

☆ check out my other works > main masterlist

Smut warning : making out, pussy eating, cream pie, BIG DICK!cheol, reader sucking on seungcheol's fingers, breast play(?), sex without protection (don't do this shit in real life) this is my first time writing smut, lmk if i miss anything!!

“You can't just break up with me when you know our wedding is near!” Hearing that makes your blood boil, he’s right, your wedding is near, but don't you think it's too much? Get married with your fiance after knowing he likes your sister and they have an affair going on?

You don't even know how you can return to the time before Se-hyuk & you get married. All you remember before is you're in a coma after big accidents between your car and theirs. And now you're wearing your cancelled-wedding dress, in the boutique store that you remembered has been closed.

“I shouldn't even fuck with you, Yoon Se-hyuk” That's all you say before you ripped the gown, paid for it and then go straight to your car without sparing a glace at him.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

“Han y/n! Se-hyuk is searching for you” You sigh heavily, you already blocked his number & any other social media platform so he can't annoy you anymore, but now he's coming to your house? You wonder how much audacity he has, because he was brave enough to come here after you made him gone in your life.

“Tell him to go home!” You don't want to see his face anymore. Every time you remember it, your heart aches so much that it brings your eyes to tears.

You know you have never been so lucky in your life. Your stepmother opens your bedroom door, telling you to talk with Se-hyuk.

You told him to talk with you outside, and he's holding onto your hand like a lost puppy.

“I told you to fuck off, didn't i? What is wrong with you? I told you don't be near me anymore!” You yell at him, and before he can even answer, his phone rings and when you both look at the contact name, you decide to be the one who answers the call.

It was his mother, “Hello? Se-hyuk, I'm searching for a hanbok right now, and they have a lot of variety. What colour do you think would match me well?” After a few seconds of silence, you answer her.

“Pink and green will suit you the best auntie, and for your information, our wedding is canceled” You can hear his mother's panicked voice, asking what is wrong with your relationship, but you didn't answer her, you hung up the phone and put his phone on shut down.

“Go away, Yoon Se-Hyuk” You said and turned your back to go back to your house.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

“So, you're Han Yu-ra?” The guy in front of you asked and made a smirk raised from your lips.

“No, I'm Han yn. I'm her sister, and I'm the one who’s going to be married to you” The sentence you left out making him arched one of his eyebrows, telling you to explain yourself.

“Here's the deal, we’re going to get married, you go back to Taeja's group, and both of our companies will merge and I get to have my revenge” You said calmly, while looking him dead in the eyes and smiling through your lips.

He asked what's in it for him. Luckily, you've done your research, “you can get your revenge on your brother too, isn't that what you wanted?” You tell him and your expression is cocky.

Both of you closed the deal and started making the rules to live in while still in your marriage life.

You are aware of your surroundings. There is a paparazzi that takes your photos, and Yu-ra is also in that lounge, walking to search for the man in front of you but then surprised by your figure that sat with him.

You had asked your cousin– who also deeply hated Yu-ra, to help you check Seungcheol's background and being the paparazzi at the hotel and will be the one who published the rumor for both of you.

She also knows about you going back in time.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

Seungcheol brought you to his room to discuss the matter of your marriage, and suddenly, a question came to his head.

“Why did you choose me to have revenge on your family? Am I that handsome?” He asked while confidence was plastered on his face as he poured the wine for both of you.

You scoffed, didn't know what to say for a while because of his demeanor, “Because Yu-ra liked you, and also you're not my type, so don't be a big head”

His smirk faltered after hearing your response, and a scowl replaced his confidence.

Both of you are drowning your sorrow with the wine filling up the hollow of your body.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

A Few weeks passed, the rumors started flying in his company too, and now Seungcheol is in a meeting with your ex.

“Do you realize she's just using you?" Se-hyuk says to his boss, his tone dripping with arrogance.

The audacity of his words makes Seungcheol blood pressure spike. After everything he’s done—treating you so cruelly and having an affair with your sister—he still refuses to let you go? What the hell is wrong with him?

“That’s none of your concern, Manager Yoon,” Seungcheol replied sharply. Then, with a calm yet pointed smile, the CEO added, “And for the record, I don’t care if she’s using me. I love her.”

Se-Hyuk glares hard at his boss.

Maybe he still loves you, and doesn't want you to go run your own life, because after all you both have been in a relationship for a decent time, 5 years to be exact and the moment before you ended everything is 3 months before your wedding.

He knew better than to press the issue further. Instead, he turned his attention to the proposal his team had submitted. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to focus, his mind wandered elsewhere.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

"Aww, so you shut him out like that? You really love me, don't you?"

Seungcheol was used to your teasing by now, and he found it oddly satisfying to play along.

"Of course. You're my dear fiancée. How could I not love you with all my heart?" he replied, a smirk adorning his perfect features.

The two of you continued your playful banter late into the night. Eventually, you realized he had caged you beneath him on the sofa in the apartment he had bought for you both to share.

His intense gaze shifted between your eyes and lips before he slowly leaned in, his right hand cradling the side of your face. You responded with your lips brushing against his, a silent invitation.

When your lips met, Seungcheol kissed you like he was afraid of losing you, his touch tender yet passionate. You knew better, though. He loved it when your kisses turned wild— something you'd learned firsthand during your first kiss in a hotel room, a memory you cherished.

Your hands threaded through his black locks, pulling him closer as soft grunts and moans escaped your lips.

After what felt like ten minutes of an intense make-out session, He finally pulled back to give you both a chance to catch your breath.

Without hesitation, he asked, "Bedroom?"

You nodded in response.

Your relationship might not have started romantically, but deep down, something told you this could be the best thing that ever happened in your life.

Meanwhile, you and Seungcheol are having the time of your life, Se-hyuk is trying to get Yu-ra to go home because earlier she called for him, and he can tell that she's drunk.

He's rushing to the bar, throwing Yu-ra on his shoulder to take her to her house (which basically, yours too).

But a plan can't always get in your way, can they? Yu-ra is drunk enough to have Se-hyuk stop the car in the stinky, small motel, so they can do the activity a soon-to-be brother-in-law and soon-to-be sister-in-law shouldn't do.

Even when Yu-ra is kissing him like a mad woman after entering the room, Se-hyuk still thinks about the afternoon event that makes the girl who sat between his legs pissed and starts to attack his sensitive spot on his neck so she can get his attention.

Pretty good to say, both pairs having an intimate time that night.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

Here's the difference, Choi Seungcheol woke up from the best sleep he ever had with a smile on his face when he noticed you're still in his arms.

On the other hand, Yoon Se-hyuk was scared shitless when he saw Yu-ra's and his naked body and the motel room they booked for the night. He quickly gathered his clothing and put it on so he could leave the room fast.

Now, he can't even blame you for the canceled wedding anymore. He knew he was an asshole back then, but now he feels like he's a total dickhead because last night he fucked your sister, despite knowing that there's a cold war going on between both of you.

He’s still trying to win you back, with a constant push from his mother and sister, who many have labeled a gold digger.

Yes, he marries you for your money, that doesn't mean he doesn't love you, does it? Well, he admits, at first glance, that he has already fallen in love with you, the way you sit and talk elegantly about your interest, and that you are also searching for a husband.

Then, there comes Yu-ra who is always trying to steal his attention away from you to her, and that she always wears a slightly more provocative outfit when he's at your house, telling him that she already feels comfortable with him.

That leads to another. They started seeing each other more often without you knowing, and they started developing feelings for the other individuals, making it so complicated.

He doesn't know how you can find out about his affair with Yu-ra because both him and your sister are sure that they're playing clean, at least that's what they thought.

Unfortunately, you saw them minutes after the hard car crash. That puts you in a fatal condition where you can even speak or move your body. You can only move your eyes.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

After you woke up, your fiancé decided that it's time to have a shower, and he insisted that you both have to do it together.

It’s nothing dirty. He just takes care of you after the little act last night and having a light conversation with you, and what surprises you is that there's no awkwardness lingering between both of you.

The CEO said his schedule today is packed, so he’s going to come home late, so you told him you will be joining a cooking class that his mother attends.

You know Seungcheol's mother isn't quite fond of you, so you want to change her mind and want to start a good relationship with her.

It's 10 a.m. and the house is already empty, leaving the cool air behind.

“So, do you have any reason why you want to join this class?” Jamie– the owner of the class, ask you. So you answered, “yes, i want to sometimes cook with my fiancé, and my soon-to-be mother-in-law is joining this class, so i want to start a good relationship with her”

Jamie nodded with a satisfied smile, and then she talked to you about the rules on this class and other information you should know.

The odd thing is, Jamie looks a lot like your mother. They even had the same scar that looks like they have the same cause– a cat.

After she explains everything, Jamie brings you to her class and starts introducing you.

Seungcheol's mother looked surprised by your present, and then she shifted her eyes to her table again.

You greet her, and you're lucky because the table you got is side by side with her.

“Why do you join this class?” She asks, tone sharp, and she doesn't even know why it can come at such a tone when she didn't mean it.

“I heard from Seungcheol that you joined the cooking class here, auntie, so i said to him i'll give it a try to bond a good relationship with you” you answered calmly.

She gives you one last glare before deciding that it would be best for her to just ignore you.

When the class is finished, she told you to meet her at the café nearby, wanting to have a talk with you about your relationship with her son.

“I’m just going to ask you the point here” she says, making you gulp hard on her glare.

“Do you even love my Seungcheol? how can I trust you when I know your relationship with your ex has failed because you canceled the wedding!?”

You won't lie, that words cut deep into your heart, your body is shaking and your eyes are glossy, you want to get out of there soon, but before you can even open your mouth, she strikes again.

“Look, you can't even answer that question. How can I give Seungcheol to you when you can't answer the basic question I ask?”

Another voice joins in, a male voice that you and her are familiar with, because that's your fiancé's voice.

“That is not your business mom, the only thing that matters is I love her and she’s willing to try a relationship with me, isn't it enough?” He angrily said to his mom, and he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you up from your seat, then you both walked away.

You are still sparing glances towards your back to see Mrs. Choi's reaction, but she just looks at both of you in horror.

Seungcheol doesn't even spare her a glance anymore, he just goes straight to the parking lot while still holding your hand to guide you.

“You okay? She doesn't do anything to you, does she?” His voice etched with worry that was evident on his face.

“It's okay, Cheol. She didn't do anything to me”

After you calmed him down, both of you entered his car, you questioned your car but he said a driver will pick your Mercedes up a few minutes ahead.

The strings of ‘sorry’ seem to never stop falling from his lips, and you can only tell him that everything's fine and he doesn't need to apologize.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

“Ya, Han Yu-ra, what’s your sister like? She's marrying my brother, so I need to know her” of course Yu-ra and Se-hee— Se-hyuk's sister, knows who that voice belongs to.

Choi Seungchae, Seungcheol's sister and a well-known celebrity slash influencer in south korea.

“She's selfish, and always talks bad about people even if she is close with them, you know she was also adopted by my father, right?” Yu-ra said with a smirk on her face, that Seungchae wants to scratch her face with her perfectly fresh-made manicure.

Se-hee nodded her head upon hearing Yu-ra's words, she also added, “And you know? she’s the one who cancelled the wedding between her and my brother!”

“Also, I followed you on sns, can you follow me back? it'd be an honor to me!”

“I'm sure she has her reasons to end things with your brother,” Seungchae pauses before continuing her words, “and doesn't your description sound like you throw your sister under the bus Yu-ra? No? I feel like that is much more to your description, not hers”

She then walked away out of that store with her friends while they were laughing about Se-hee who bluntly asked her to follow back her SNS so she can brag to her other friends.

Yu-ra twitches her eyes, she can't even make Seungchae like her? What does she lack? She's perfect and she's going to tell her mom so she can ruin both family dinners.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

When Mrs. Choi goes to Seungcheol house, she didn't expect to see his son and you both sleeping together.

it's nothing serious, she would say. because Seungcheol's sleeping on the couch while his hands are holding onto yours who's sleeping on the floor with the position that could probably make your neck uncomfortable.

Startled by the sound of the door being unlocked, you shot your eyes open and found it weird that Mrs. Choi is here, she doesn't usually come in without any notice before.

You want to greet her first, but she quickly shuts you down and then grabs your hand to take you outside.

You want to protest, but before any words come out of your mouth, Mrs. Choi brings you to her embrace and starts hugging you tightly which makes you worried, what's wrong?

“Are there any problems, auntie? I’m sorry, I didn't mean to sleep here, I dozed off without knowing last night” You babbled to her, waiting for any impact that might have gone to your face.

Instead, she pulled away from the hug and started speaking, “I never seen him sleeping peacefully since he's graduated his elementary school because of his trauma, thank you for making him sleep like this again”

You don't even know what to say when she hugs you again, this time a little bit shorter, and she says, “You have my permission to marry him, the only thing you have to achieve is that i want you to join Taeja's group again”

And there's where your real revenge starts, with the help of your fiancé's family, of course.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

Both your family agreed to have dinner together on Sunday night in Taeja’s group restaurant that they had reserved, only for the family.

Mrs. Choi doesn't look so fond of your stepmother, she knew about the backstory of your poor life because of her.

Meanwhile your father— Han Jiwoong, greets the other families with a genuine smile, your stepmother uses her sly smile, making everybody in Taeja's family start to scoff at her, even Grandma Taeja.

After half an hour greeting each other, here comes the main topic of why Taeja’s family and yours are having dinner tonight, it's to discuss your marriage.

“Our company will begin merging after they both get married, you don't mind that, right?” Grandma Taeja asks your family, especially your stepmother because her eyes are pointed to her.

She answered her with that mischievous smile of her, “we'll gladly accept that, grandma”

“But our daughter is not perfect, so we aren't really sure if she can be married with your grandson” she continues, and that makes your heart burn with anger.

“As you know, she works as a painter that only sell 2 or maybe 3 pieces total in her life, she can't cook on her own, and also adopted” The words that she threw at you make your heart pounds a thousand times than your average, all of that makes you nervous, but Seungcheol hold your hand to tell you he's here and everything is gonna be fine.

Seungchae seems to be confused by the tension from your family, she whispers to her husband, “what is this? Why are they trying to make their daughter look bad?”

While her husband only shook his head that means he doesn't know.

“I don’t care about the pieces she sell, my family is rich, we surely can make her life comfortable without her lifting up her fingers” Mrs. Choi said as she also knows about Han Jiwoong's wife's plan to drag you down.

Seungcheol chimes in, joining the conversation, “I'm the best cook in my family, you don't need to worry about both of us not eating, I can make her breakfast, lunch, and dinner, we can also go out sometimes” His answer is sharp, undeniable.

“We also don't care about her being adopted, there's nothing to worry about, and we have 90% control of the media in South Korea, so we can shut them down if we want to” He added to ensure that anyone from your family can talk bad about you anymore.

Few hours passed, and the dinner was already finished minutes ago. You and Seungcheol are both satisfied by the dinner and also his family answers to yours.

“It's okay, they're good people” Your fiancé said to ease up your worries that were written on your forehead.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

Summer is soon turning into autumn, and your relationship label is turning into husband and wife after being engaged for 3 months.

Today is the sacred day for you and Seungcheol, both of you will say the vows and a contract hidden beneath that.

Your father walks you down the aisle, a beautiful white gown draped around you, fitted bodice that accentuates the waist and a voluminous skirt that flows out dramatically made of satin.

You choose a sweetheart and off-shoulder neckline to anctuates your collarbone, and a natural looking makeup so it doesn't overwhelm you.

The veil made out of tulle, makes your face look beautiful in the altar lighting.

The procession goes really well, and you soon know that's because your step sister hasn't arrived yet.

after the guest and family member announce their speech— including Seungchae and her husband crying while reading theirs and it makes your heart warm at the sight, and Seungcheol's brother's cold speech that looks like it's just for formality.

When the photo session though, everything starts to irritate you a little, because not only your stepsister have arrived, she also wears a white dress, hoping to outshine the bride— yes, you.

She even goes live on social media, “Guys, look at my stepsister, she really looks beautiful isn't she?” while holding your hand, which you let go.

“I'm sorry, Yu-ra. I'd love to hold hands with my husband only” with a smile on your lips, filled with dread for her to take a hint.

“I love you, my wife” Seungcheol said, and you answered the same.

Both of you lean towards each other, letting the photographer take your sweet photo while kissing so happily and a grumpy Yu-ra beside you.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

“Okay, so now what?” You ask your now husband, after the wedding ends.

“Why are you still asking? We’re going to have a Honeymoon, and we're taking the first flight to Jeju tomorrow” He said, making you feel ridiculous talking to him.

So you hit him, hard on his shoulder, “You said you're scared of the beach and ocean because of your childhood, we don't have to if you don't want it, we can go anywhere” You answered him and remembering his fear of the ocean that he told you a few while back.

“If you can face your fear, and eat my food without me having to do it first, so can I do it too, you're telling me we are in this together, right?” He looks at you like you're the one putting stars one by one in the sky.

And without a doubt, Jeju is where you both go.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

“It's not that bad” Seungcheol says after you both reach your bedroom, and clean yourselves.

You gave him a smile, “right? it's calming” as you climbed to the bed, your brain turning his gears to think about the sleeping position tonight.

“Here's a pillow, you go sleep down there” Your words make Seungcheol furrow his eyebrows and eyes wide, “No! We can go sleep in the same bed”

The way he said it so casually makes your eyes also widen, you both definitely can't sleep on the same bed.

“I promise i'm going to hold your hands while we sleep–” before Seungcheol can even finish his sentence, you already throw the pillow to him.

“No!” You yell at him to make his eyes go even wider, which makes you smile sheepishly at him, while muttering soft ‘sorry’.

“You have a dirty mind, we wouldn't even do anything” and finally, you tell him, “okay, you sleep here”

And just before he can express his happiness, you added, “i'll sleep there" while grabbing your pillow and starting to get up from bed.

Well, of course Choi Seungcheol has to be a big headed person he is, so he caged you on the soft bed, making it impossible for you to move.

A week before your wedding, Seungcheol confessed that he has feelings for you, maybe that's why you don't want to sleep together.

“You don't believe my words, do you?” he asked, and the way you stay silent with your eyes wandering anywhere but him makes Seungcheol even more sure about his question.

His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again, only to find you already doing the same.

Slowly but surely, he leans in, both you breath hot while your lips brushing the slightest.

it feels like you're so close but so far to his liking, so he grabbed the back of your head to push your lips to clash with his.

The kiss soon got heated with both of your tongues joining in, your lungs burning at the sensation begging to tell you to pull away from him but your brain keeps ignoring it.

Fortunately, after a few seconds Seungcheol pulls away, making you chase his lips that are stained with your lipstick, meanwhile yours was plump and glossy.

Your hands paw weakly on his shirt after gripping it like your life depends on it, silently asking him to put it away, and with that look in your eyes, how can he refuse?

Seungcheol wasted no time to take his shirt off, leaving him only in his black trouser.

You're now technically gawking at him, but how could you not? His bicep is big and you can even see the veins become more prominent. Looks like he's god's favorite, and that's why he has that body of a god.

Seungcheol goes to the bed again, only to find you still staring at him. Looks ready for him to cherish, and to ravish.

He kisses your lips again, but this time it's rougher than the last one, soon the kiss starts going to your neck and the sweet spot behind your right ear.

his hot breath fanning over your skin, makes you shudder. His next move lets you out a whimper, but how can you not? He cups your pussy through your short silk nightwear.

“Cheol” you moan, holding his bicep while looking at his other hand that goes under your top, fondling with your right breast.

Seungcheol can feel himself getting worked out. The trouser he had picked earlier today feels a little strained to his liking. He can't hide his growing bulge anymore.

He starts undressing you, taking his time while kissing the new spot he sees, while you can only whimper and moan out because you can't think of anything other than him.

“You're wet, baby” it's true, you've been wet since the moment your kiss got heated, and everytime you think of his demeanor, you caught yourself in a sinful scene.

You grab his black lock when he decides to dive in without giving you any warning, the sudden act makes you scream out loud, you don't really care who's gonna hear you, the hotel receptionist told you the suite was soundproof.

Your husband can tell you are close, so he pulls away from your cunt and you can see his chin and mouth glistening deliciously with your essence.

Without any words, he gets up to take off his trousers and boxer. His cock is massive with veins noticeable to your eyes, even though you two had sex before this, but you still amaze at his size.

You whine at him but he quickly shuts you up with a deep kiss to your lips and slowly he starts pushing himself inside of you, not wanting to hurt you.

His thrust started slow, but when he's sure you adjusted his size, he becomes rougher with you, grunts heavily heard here and there from him.

“Open” His words leave no room to argue, when you do open your mouth, he inserts his middle and index finger.

He smirks before opening his mouth again, “Suck my fingers, sweetheart” He left you speechless— not that you could answer him or something, you begin to suck eagerly, wanting to be a good girl for him.

After only a few thrusts, you can feel your stomach tightening a sign to warn that you're going to cum, and Seungcheol was aware of this so he fastened his pace, also reaching for his own high.

The way you clench around him makes your husband's head feel dizzy, and the time you cumming it also triggers him to come hard inside you, filling you to the brim.

He didn't immediately go off of you, he rested himself for a minute and when he did get off you, he carried you to the bathroom to clean yourselves out.

“I love you, baby” He said while carrying you, never in a million years he's thinking of saying that to someone. “And I hope you love me too” Seungcheol added.

The sweet moment makes your heart start warming, and you just hope that there's no other torture you'll get in this life.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

Of course, your torture doesn't stop there.

Yu-ra is still snooping on your marriage life, and Se-hyuk is still being your pain in the ass.

One day, though, he's going inside your house and finds a file of treasure, the truth inside your wedding.

He quickly tells Yu-ra about it, and they both make their cunning plan with the help of your stepmother.

Meanwhile, you found out that you are your father's real daughter after taking a DNA test. The result makes your heart clench, so he abandoned you and decided to adopt you again?

And Yu-ra is not even his real daughter, all the torment you had in all your life just to know you're the real one?

“You're home late tonight, it's unusual of you, why?” Your husband asks why slowly walking to you while crossing his hand, and before he can say anything, you just go to wrap yourself on his body, wanting nothing but to be held by him.

The seconds he had you in his embrace, tears started falling from your eyes, your expression pained seungcheol to the deepest of his heart, willing to do anything to stop them.

A few minutes pass and you finally tell him what's going on and why are you home late at night crying your heart out.

The moment he hears the reason, he instantly soothes you down with his hand, silently telling you that it's okay to cry and you will resolve this problem together.

Since the honeymoon, you two got closer and eventually you started to like him too, your routine becomes more and more like a husband and a wife should be.

you sleep on the same bed, cooking or baking together, and even have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together.

Seungcheol's family also notices this, even Seungchae always teases both of you for it. His grandma also becomes more welcome to you, and being the kind person she always have, sometimes she invited you to Choi's manor to have brunch together with her and Mrs. Choi.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

Seungcheol and you entered his family's manor at the same time, his mother told both of you to come here everyday, but since you’re busy you often call off her invitation.

But today is an exception because you and your husband don't have any schedule.

Mrs. Choi is already waiting for you at the sofa right before the entrance, she gets up to greet you.

Seungcheol is already having his hands in the air beside him, waiting to be hugged by his mother while closing his eyes.

After a few moments, he can't feel anything that close to his body, so he opens his eyes and can't believe what he is seeing.

His mom hugged you before him, when he saw this, he whined “mom! I'm your son, why is she getting the hug first!?” He said while slightly pouting and looking at you with a playful glare which you responded with you sticking out your tongue at his direction, mocking him.

“She’s my daughter! Of course i would hug her first, beside you don't come here as often as her and i'm angry for that” She defends herself after letting you go from her embrace.

The lunch was filled with a lot of laughter echoing in the table and the talk about everything you could ever imagine with cranky Seungcheol at his mother's house.

It's not a problem to have your husband sulky, because you know how to make him normal again, so you hold your chopsticks that you use to pick the galbi to his mouth, muttering ‘aaa’ to him.

Seungcheol looked at you weirdly and not wanting to take a bite but gave in when you kicked his shin beneath the table.

When your stomach is filled to the top, you three go sit in the living room and hold a conversation about your businesses.

The talk soon died down when an uninvited guests came barging without everyone knowing they would be here, it's your stepmother, Yu-ra and Se-hyuk that you think so pathetic because of how on's on his knees for you last week on a police station but now he's on their side.

“Oh, good. You’re here, mom” The words coming out of Yu-ra's mouth make Seungcheol’s mother want to gag. She doesn't have any right to call her that.

She was searching for a document in her purse, and when she found it, she shoved the paper to your face. She smirked before opening her mouth again, “your son and my sister are having a marriage that is based on a contract. She wants to use your beloved son for her own goods”

Mrs. Choi unfazed as she took the paper slowly, training her eyes into it before forcing her eyes to Yu-ra's again, she chuckles.

“First of all; don't call me like that, I don't want you to call me ‘mom’ because you don't have the right, second of all; do you not know literally anything beside this? I also participate in this contract. You should read it first before barging into my house like that” She gets up from her seat, and starts going to your stepmother.

“Teach your daughter some manners, how come she has a mother but doesn't have any manners or shame walking like that at someone's house? She must be getting it from her mother” You can basically see there's a lot of smoke coming out of her head, being the embarrassing attention to her because of her daughter.

Your mother-in-law also goes to your ex, “What kind of man are you? Why are you still interfering with your ex who has already married life? You’re the one who found out about the contract, are you? I checked the CCTV when I went there, and you know it can get you to prison, right?”

Her words leave three of them speechless, and before she turns around, Se-hyuk is already on his knees.

The sight makes you roll your eyes in annoyance, and the thing that makes you want to throw up is the fact that he started apologizing hundreds of times.

But she just stood there quietly, that's when you noticed the front bodyguard already at home, dragging all of them out of the house.

And after a few moments, the lady asks you if you're okay and when you said you're fine she turns to her son to give him a long well needed advice.

It's already sunset when you both decide to go home, and Seungcheol holds your hand throughout the ride, an act to comfort you.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

It's been weeks since your last encounter with Yu-ra, it happened just 2 days after the incident in the Choi's manor, she slapped you real hard before chucking her glass of water at you.

“You're a fake daughter of my dad, so let go all you have because you don't deserve it and you never will! you take everything that's mine!” She said with anger, the fiery glares she threw at you filled both of her eyes.

The way she started mocking you and even bringing up your biological mom hit your nerves, so you slapped her back, twice and smirked at her “Who said I'm the fake one? call father if he's aware of it”

When Yu-ra got home, she got into a big fight with her father or stepfather, she's not his biological daughter but you are, and then her mom did nothing as she was just as speechless as her.

turns out you already sent him the file before Yu-ra's incident, oh and how he is mad is unbelievable because he also found out that his wife now already knew about it and didn't say anything.

He yells at her, and this is the one time everybody saw him losing his control, slamming the door right behind him, leaving the house hollow and cold because he takes the warmth from there.

While your family is having their problems, you're digging for Jamie– your cooking class mentor, if you'd remember, She “accidentally” tells all the students that she has a daughter but gets separated after an incident in her house.

And with that you're pretty sure she's your mother.

Her gestures, the way she talks and even the scars feel close to your mother, and she always gives you the warmth you had lost since your past incident.

After a few days of searching, the result of the DNA test you took with Jamie came in your mail.

Tears start brimming on the edge of your eyes, the test result is that you're 99,9999% share the same DNA with her.

Seungcheol is there too, watching all the scenes with both of his eyes, and when you start getting weak after reading the paper, he saves you from falling to the ground.

There's one question in your head: Why should she leave you alone with your hell of a father?

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

The time you confronted Jamie about your test result, she invited you to her house to talk about this more privately.

When you go inside her house, she immediately hugs you tight on her arms as if she is scared to let you go again.

She tells you about the incident details, that she was locked in her bedroom when the fire started, she's calling anybody for help, but the only one she can hear is your stepmother's voice that told her to stay put in her position and that she will have to die.

Your dad and you were getting groceries together and she can come because she has to finish her painting before tomorrow comes.

She got a second degree burn on her right hand but got out just right before the house exploded because of the gas.

And the left side of her hand has the exact same cat scratch you saw the first day.

She said that she moved to the states after that incident and after knowing you're in the hand of your father because she needs a treatment that only america has, not knowing that your father left you a month after she left to the states while you're at a foster home.

No words exchanged after that, just a comfort silence filled the room while you both cuddled up on her sofa, watching your favorite movie of all time— according to your 7 year old self and your mother who remembers it.

You already told Seungcheol about this, and he said that it's okay and you need to have a quality time after a long time not meeting your mother.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

A month after you met your mother, she decided to move into the house beside yours and Seungcheol, wanting to be closer to you.

Your father finally comes to his senses and always shows up at your mother's front door while holding a bouquet of Daffodil and some peonies.

Yu-ra and her mother got their karma.

Your stepmother's crime was finally discovered by the media and police, she's doing fraud and selling fake pieces of art.

The one who reported her? Your family secretary— Kim Jae Won, and how does he know it? Because most of the art that your stepmother sells is his father's painting, and he always knows his father's signature and the pen he uses, he is not going to be fooled by her.

Oh, and Yu-ra? She gets pregnant and wont even come out of her hotel room because the baby is already 7 months old— you heard from the Taeja's group hotel receptionist while you want to visit your husband.

She eventually got kicked out because Seungcheol's brother doesn't pay for the room anymore— yes, Han Yu-ra fucked with Seungcheol's big brother.

That's why she comes again to the Choi's manor, wanting to tell them that it's their son's baby.

Wrong choice.

The only one who was at home that time was Mrs. Choi and Grandma Taeja, they're having a girls talk while smiling to each other when the others talk or even laughing.

That's it until Yu-ra comes with her big belly and also a big suitcase.

She confidently tells both of them that she is currently pregnant by the seed of their oldest son.

“Well, they have a machine that can test the DNA of your baby while it's still in your stomach, they have it in Germany, want to try them?” Grandma Taeja says, without any words and panics evident in her eyes, Yu-ra gets out of that house and goes to her other victim's house.

Mrs. Choi and grandma Taeja then laugh at her antics, how can she be that confident without thinking of other things ahead of her?

“Oh! Han Yu-ra you're pregnant? Who's the father?” Se-hee technically freaks out when she sees Yu-ra standing in front of her porch while dragging a big ass suitcase.

Without any care of the world, Yu-ra blurts out “Your brother” that makes Se-hee's brain start to stop functioning at the very second.

She says that loud enough to be heard by Se-hee's mother and Se-hyuk himself with a woman she doesn't want to know anything about (probably his soon-to-be wife) hears it.

Well, upon hearing that of course Mrs. Yoon doesn't want her son's possible marriage to be ruined by some girl, so she gets up from her seat and walks to her while telling her to go away.

but when she gets closer to Yu-ra, she just shoves her away and goes straight to Se-hyuk who's still sitting at the dinner table.

He stood up nervously, and then the bomb finally said out loud, more clearly, “he's your suitor? don't accept him,” then Yu-ra's eyes made eye contact with Se-hyuk's “I'm pregnant, and he's the father”

The girl storms out furiously while grabbing her purse, straight to the open door of the apartment.

Meanwhile Yu-ra dragging Se-hyuk to his room, she chuckles slyly, before asking him, “how can this baby live in this small house?”

Se-hyuk takes both of her hands and looks up to her, “Why don't we live in your house? It's good for the baby to live there”

Hearing that Yu-ra's blood started to boil again, she slapped his right cheek, leaving him with a bright red cheek.

“Why can't you take the hint? if i'm still living there i would not even step foot on this small freaking apartment! my father disown me and then he proceeds to fucking throw me out!” She yells at him.

Well that’s the ending of hee story, you would say pretty tragic, right?

Meanwhile, she's suffering.

You actually have a good life, and now you sat on the dinner table with Soojin— the same cousin who took the pictures of you and Seungcheol the first time and Seungchae who is now helping your mom in the kitchen with her cooking.

Soojin and Seungchae have a competition, which of their food that you'll love, and basically the winner gets free chicken and beer for a month.

But after they finish cooking and you start to pick up the food with your chopstick, you suddenly feel a lump going up your throat, and now you feel like you want to throw up.

So you ran to the bathroom, there you threw all your guts out without any hesitation.

When you got out of the bathroom, you found three of them looking at each other in silence, “what?” You break the silent atmosphere because they all suddenly turn their heads at you.

Soojin spoke first, beating Seungchae that just opened her mouth, “when is the last time you had your period?”

Then everything starts to kick in. Your period is late by 3 weeks now, and you always have that morning sickness.

“I'll grab you a test” Your mother said hurriedly, after a moment.

When she took it out of her bag— which you don't know why it's there, you went to the bathroom again, for checking.

The result came out positive, so when you tell it to everyone, they start hugging you like crazy, and your mom brings you to the dining room, insisting that you have to eat more.

[⋆✴︎˚｡⋆]

“So, any news today?” Seungcheol just got off work and he's asking you while hanging his coat.

You fiddle with your fingers, confused how to tell the big news to him, so you just said, “I'm having a morning sickness and my period is still not coming today”

Without any warning, Seungcheol holds your waist and behind your knees, and now he's carrying you with bridal style.

“Maybe you need some refreshment?” You see what he's doing now, so you just blurt out, “I think I might be pregnant!” while closing your eyes, probably expecting him to drop you immediately.

Instead, he puts you down slowly then just stares at you very lovingly with his eyes brimming with tears.

He opened his mouth like he would say something, but nothing came out, just a big gummy smile from him.

And then he starts getting closer, his hot breath fanning at your skin and your lips just a few centimeters away while holding eye contact with you.

That soon breaks by him and he starts kissing you slowly, passionately, while thanking you and praising you between the kisses.

Revenge is complete, and now you have a loving husband besides you while carrying his and your love.

[hollow-writing-place]

Dead on Mayn

Day 1 Prompts: Bones, Ghost culture is weird, "You can see me??", Jason meets Danny as a ghost.

Word Count: 1805

Pretty proud of this one!! Enjoy!

Quick Summary: Danny misplaces like all his bones after a GiW run-in and needs them all back to get out of ghost form. Jason finds a human spine that somehow makes the pit rage fade. Oddness ensues.

=================

Jason feels just slightly lost. Just a bit.

He's feeling slightly lost because he is 100% sure that he is seeing a real human spine on his apartment's fire escape.

It's perfectly isolated and polished, smoother than if it had been picked clean by a Gotham vulture. It may also be glowing slightly, which is a whole different issue.

If Jason knows anything, it's that he most certainly should not pick it up. That's the dumbest possible thing he could do.

But, as he looks at it, he gets this lonely sort of feeling twisting in his gut.

Okay, bad sign number two. The mysterious glowing spine is messing with his head. Even still, his mouth turns down in a frown, eyebrows furrowing.

He sits, still fully geared up in his window after a long night of patrol, and contemplates the situation for a moment. Finally, he sighs and brings it all back to the question it always boils down to.

What Would Batman Do?

Batman would call a magic user to identify the object. Batman would quarantine it and study it, take samples and test it. Batman would certainly not bring the object around his personal belongings.

Jason nods, acknowledging the inner Batman voice's opinion.

Mind made up, he scoops the bone into his arms and brings it inside. He gingerly lays it on his coffee table and promptly leaves to start up dinner.

—

Danny just needs one more piece.

The GiW did a number on him. I mean, dissection is par for the course, but dissection and then losing the parts they stole? Rookie moves.

Furthermore, Danny can’t get out of ghost form until he finds it. He’s collected most everything else, but it's taken weeks.

His ribs came from different places in the ocean, his femur from atop a news building in Metropolis, etc. He even had to venture up to that one Justice League space station to get his skull! Some idiot was using it like a paperweight in the room with all the cameras and whatnot. Danny scoffs at the memory.

He’s been flying all over the place, searching high and low for where his bones disappeared to.

This must be a ghost thing he didn’t know about. Or, more likely, a halfa thing no one knew anything about. All he knew was he didn’t want anyone he didn't trust getting their hands on his stuff, (the stuff being him), and somehow that translated to all his bones teleporting away from the GiW.

All he needed now was his spine.

All the other pieces of himself he found either somewhere secluded or somewhere he would deem safe. (Explaining to Jazz he was visiting her at college for his hand bones was awkward. Even worse, she’d already found all of them and had them organized by the time he got to her.)

This is why Danny is confused.

The last tether in his chest seems to be leading to… Gotham.

Gotham? The biggest, most dangerous city in the US? Not only home to a boatload of people, but also to a veritable menagerie of rogues and vigilantes?

Floating high over the city, Danny just sighs.

He needs his spine back. He needs it so he can be human again. The GiW is still after him. Hell, his parents are hunting him probably as he floats here. He’s safer if he’s human.

He tries to center himself, settles his core with the frigid air and thoughts of comfort and safety after this mess is over, before he begins his descent into the city of crime.

—

Jason is exhausted. Patrol was long. It's been a long few weeks, honestly.

He settles, fresh out of the shower, armor piled on the floor nearby, on the couch in his living room. The TV has a rerun of Pride and Prejudice on, and Jason sighs softly.

The spine on his coffee table glows as faintly as it had since he picked it up weeks ago.

Jason can’t explain why he finds this comforting.

It casts the room in cool blue-green at night, low and rippling like water in a fishtank.

It seems morbid to have it, but Jason, (heads in a duffle bag guy) really doesn’t mind. He finds himself spending more time in the living room, more time in the proximity of the bone.

Jason hasn’t taken the time to analyze this, but as he spends more and more time in the living room, the sickly green of the Lazarus Pits seems to fade. It sits in the corners of his vision, as always, but its presence in his mind feels… dull. Cowed, like a rambunctious dog by its exasperated owner.

He may not fully, consciously, recognize this change, but he does know the glowing spine makes him feel better. He falls asleep easy in this room now, even if the couch is far from comfortable.

Even now, his eyelids droop with exhaustion. He’s warm and safe and home.

He sighs again, tipping his head back onto the cushions and beginning to doze.

His half-sleep-half-wake state is broken pretty quickly though by the feeling of something shifting. Something in the air maybe, changing and moving.

Jason’s mind registers it as a wrong sort of feeling, but something in his chest, not his heart or anything cheesy, but something there in all but a physical sense, registers this change as good. Good and right. Good…

but anticipatory.

Something is coming. Jason sits up and leans forward.

His eyes rove the room for signs of this thing he knows is coming but can’t identify, before his gaze is inexplicably drawn back to the bone.

Oh.

—

Gotham is pretty much what he’s been told it would be. The atmosphere is gloomy, what with the near constant rain/smog combo blanketing the city. Crime is happening literally everywhere, and Danny means literally. The tall, sharp architecture paints the city as a gothic, dark place of high roofs and gargoyles. It’s dank, and it’s honestly kinda intimidating.

…Danny kinda loves it.

It’s got its own charm and beauty. Danny is enamored by the vibes it gives off, but maybe that’s his ghost half speaking.

Anyway, Danny is still following the pull in his chest down. He zips through buildings, skates along vertical walls, and still seems just as far away as he had been when he got here.

The streets get dirtier, the air gets grittier, and suddenly, Danny jerks to a stop. He knows, abruptly, like he’s been slammed into a wall, that he’s crossed a line into somewhere he shouldn’t be.

The oppressive feeling of trespassing weighs his shoulders down.

He’s entered someone’s haunt.

Danny stretches his own senses out, and feels like staggering at the sheer size of this thing. Hell, this haunt must span a whole chunk of Gotham. That means it belongs to someone powerful.

Or, at least, some nearly as powerful as Danny. (His haunt is currently the entirety of Amity. The power boost that allowed that is courtesy of being Ghost King.)

The tether Danny has guiding him to his spine pings softly again, resting deep in the heart of this haunt and just like that, the oppressive weight lifts.

It’s still there, ready and waiting, but it seems… friendlier somehow. Welcoming.

Danny shakes himself out, trying to throw off the nervous buzz in his ecto. He needs his spine, and it’s somewhere here. 

—

Danny finds his spine easily. The house it resides in lights up in his senses like a beacon.

It’s drenched in bad energy, but gaps in the miasma show through, like light breaking through the clouds. Green-blue tinged light. Yeah, this guy has his spine for sure.

And, if Danny’s passing thoughts are to be believed, they may be feeding Danny’s remains with whatever evil shit is clogging up his house. He feels stronger just getting within a block of it.

…He doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Danny floats closer, going so far as to rest his ghostly form on the fire escape outside the window. He peers through the window before reeling back.

There’s a man inside, leaning towards a table where Danny’s spine sits, calm as you please. That weird black and neon green goop seems to not just be around the house, but rather, it was centered on the man’s form. It looked…

Ancients.

That can’t be comfortable. It was smothering the man’s fledgling core.

As Danny sat and observed, the light emanating from his spine wavered and rippled, much like water, and a ball of that disgusting goo ripped away from the man and into the bones.

Danny, being as close as he is, feels a rush of power flood his spectral form.

He only realizes his eyes flare green because the man whips around to look at him. Danny flinches and blinks, while the man’s brow furrows and he tilts his head in confusion.

Danny pauses only a moment before drifting into the apartment. It’s homey, he notes, as if this isn’t the oddest situation he’s been in in a bit.

The man straightens up where he sits, clearing his throat.

“Uhm. So. I guess you can see me?” Danny says, his tone much more questioning than he means it to be.

“Am… am I not supposed to?” The man replies, leaning back on his couch and crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Danny shrugs, drifting over to the table. He curls in the air over the table like a cat, still a foot or two above his spine. Protective. “No, you totally should be able to. Just not used to it. I mean, you are-”

Danny squints and inspects the man closely, realization dawning over him slowly. “You are a halfa.” His voice contains notes of awe. Their, ah, species, is pretty rare. (Understatement.)

The man only looks confused. “Is that a word I should know the meaning of?”

Danny blinks. Then he hums thoughtfully. Like always, he comes to a pretty impulsive decision. No thinking, just word vomit. “Listen, buddy-”

“Jason.”

“Right. Listen, Jason. You’ve got a really weird mass of junk around you that really just has to go, and I've just found out that pieces of me can cleanse it, or something-”

“What.”

“So what I think is going to happen, is you get to keep my spine for a bit and-”

"Again, what??”

“AND! And I will come stay with you for a bit. Win-win!” Danny throws his hands out to either side triumphantly.

Danny gets to live somewhere that seems- (feels, like, down in his core feels) safe, somewhere he can heal up and gain his strength, Jason gets that weird crap fixed, and everyone leaves happy!

Jason looks utterly dumbfounded. “I am… wildly confused.” Even as he says this, it looks like the beginnings of a smile are tugging at his lips.

Danny gives him a feral grin back. Oh yeah, this is going to work out just fine.

FIN

[yeyinde]

thinking of big gross simon once more 😔

he’s just so fucking huge imagine him finally getting his precious girl home with him one night after work. he didn’t ask, obviously, just slipped a little smth extra into the tea he made her! it took her no time to fall straight into his arms

the ride back to his cabin has to be excruciating for him,, imagine having to keep his attention on driving when his girl is sat next to him. the urge to pull over and take you apart right tugged on him every couple minutes

when he does finally pull up imagine him gently peeling off your seatbelt and shifting your weight into his beefy arms uggghhhhhh 😖😖 his chest pressed against your side as he placed you down on the couch. takes him no time to go back out to the truck and grab what he needs,, a thick pair of leather cuffs and a chain.

maybe he traps her arms, hooking the chain into a loop on the floor. he does it so she won’t hurt herself trying to fight back, it takes nothing for him to put you in your place. the thought of getting too rough and breaking his favorite toy so soon didn’t rest easy with him… gotta keep her safe

or maybe he traps her legs, cuffs wrapped around her ankles. can’t have his little bird trying to escape the nest!! not until she’s finally trained! stops you from kicking or running from him, perfect to keep your legs together tight… but maybe seeing your limbs pressed together like that does something to him, makes his blood boil in a way no one else ever has 😏

big bloody hands rub your body down, mapping out every part before you even wake up. he can’t wait to break you in

-🧸 i’m horny.

ohhhhhh yeah. yes to all of this. i saw this tiktok a while back about this girl who was going skydiving or something. and the instructor was getting her harness on, and when he knelt down to do the straps on her thighs, he was basically eye-level with her. it fucked with me so good.

and now i can't stop imagining poor reader frantically searching for an escape after he chained you to the wall only to see Simon stagger back over with ankle straps in hand, drop to his knees in front of you, and suddenly you're eye-level with him. or the top is his head comes up to your chin and it's like. well. okay 🫠 guess i'm staying.

he probs secretly starts taking things from the slaughterhouse, too. hooks, chains. chain hoist. block and tackle. stockpiles it in his cabin for you. has everything prepared because this isn't a spur of the moment thing. everything is meticulously thought out. planned. has your routine memorised the first week of knowing you. no changes. home, work. groceries on the weekend. might stray to the odd friend's house on occasion. but it's shockingly easy to narrow your world down into home and his shop. even easier to tell everyone in town that you went back to home for a little while.

to your honeymoon, as he calls it, mockingly. mean. and you come to the horrifying realisation that he's more cunning than you gave him credit for when you ask why he's doing this, and he plainly says that he just wanted you. and so, he took you. simple as. old school prison mentality. finders keepers.

but don't worry. he'll give you a better one later on when you come back to town as a Riley.

you just have to learn how to behave.

[for-your-modesty-dude]

As Long As You're There

A/N: AHHHHHHHH This is SO intimidating. My first ever fic posted. I don't feel like it's my best work, but if I don't post this now, I'm going to chicken out, and never write anything ever again. I hope you don't hate it, since I refuse to have my first piece beta read for fear of chickening out from that, too. So... no beta, we die like Jason. Feedback appreciated, but please be nice, LOL. I'm sensitive and very new to this. Love you all! - Hy

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, not beta read, tenses might jump around (i got nervy), generally nervous author, was supposed to be angst/fluff but I honestly don't know how to describe this one, folks

Synopsis: Eddie is sure Chrissy Cunningham is the girl for him. What happens when he is shown she's not?

It is undeniable. Eddie Munson thinks he likes Chrissy Cunningham - especially after that drug deal before the championship game back in high school. He doesn't really, though. Deep down, what it really boils down to is that he craves to be known and liked by the people who torment him. He sees kindness in her, and thinks that maybe - just maybe - if Chrissy can see past the flaws, even a girl like her could come to have feelings for a guy like him. After all, he's always been funny, charming, and larger-than-life. Sure, he talks a lot, he goes on emotional rants, and always has something to tease his friends about. And okay, maybe he's a little bossy. But at the end of the day, he's just a guy with a lot of affection to give and not enough friends to give it to. He tries, he does, to keep his temper tamed and attitude in check, but it's hard for someone with a past like his. He's a little angry at everything. He wants to get out of Hawkins, sure. But most of all, he just wishes he could feel normal. He likes being different, likes being who he is. But he doesn't like what comes with it. The jeering, the nasty looks, the fear - it's all so stupid. Because despite all of his attitude and temper and hardened look, Eddie Munson is a complete dork with a heart of gold. After all, the jocks and preps don't have a care in the world to take those who look like they've got no one and give them a place and a group to be a part of. No, only Eddie does that. He's done it since he was young, and even now, in his mid-twenties and having completed his Associate's degree to make his old man proud (the one who cared for him, not the one who left him), he still finds himself constantly looking out for people who may need a group. All the while, he keeps one eye open in search of Chrissy Cunningham - the girl who went off to college, got her fancy Bachelor's degree, and then, for some reason entirely unknown to Eddie, returned to her hometown to teach at the very same high school they'd both graduated from.

Eddie, meanwhile, had been stuck working at the auto shop since he'd graduated. Wayne had sat him down and insisted he needed to find real work, lest he get arrested for his extracurricular activities. The conversation, of course, had been prompted by Wayne finding a stash of pills his nephew had hidden (and then forgotten) in the bread box. He hadn't been happy, and had told Eddie he would not be going down for 'having them damn pills in my home.' Eddie had been a little embarrassed, but agreed to get a real job- so he'd chosen the shop. Luckily for him, it was in a perfect spot. It was on the street Chrissy Cunningham passed every morning on her drive to school, and every afternoon on her drive home. In the spring through the fall, she even walked most days - which gave Eddie the chance to say hello. He always tried to be as grease-free as he could, but some stains really just stuck, and he had a habit of wiping his face after changing the oil in his customers' cars... it didn't go well for him in the looks department. 

What Chrissy thought of it, no one was the wiser. None of Eddie's friends really interacted with her. Half the kids were still off to college, Dustin being the furthest and at an Ivy League, so no one could spy or find information. Sure, El was still around, choosing to go to the local college with Max, but they definitely didn't speak to Chrissy. Mike, Will, and Lucas had their own college woes. And Steve and Robin... well, they'd gotten through community college too, eventually, but they stayed within their comfort zone. They didn't make new friends, and they certainly didn't hang out with the likes of Chrissy Cunningham. Nancy and Jonathan had done what they'd always said they'd do - they took the settlement money from the government and went to NYU together, staying in New York City to work at the Times, as journalist and photographer, respectively.

All of these things meant that Eddie was on his own. Except, of course, for his best friend. One of the craziest things about community college to him was that he met people from other towns. Imagine his shock when he met a girl there from a small town not 45 minutes away from Hawkins, studying music history for fun. He was a lover of music, sure, but he was taking the class for the sake of his liberal arts degree. This girl? She was finishing her Bachelor's at the local university and taking courses for fun at the local college. He'd found her fascinating, to say the least. It helped that she was, like him, a little different from the rest. They had similar (though not quite identical) music tastes, and fashion that made their conservative towns uncomfortable. It sparked an instant bond. He'd invited this girl out to Hawkins once, and they'd never looked back. They'd become inseparable. She'd moved out to Hawkins, somehow a nicer town than her own, especially as its commerce grew, and helped Eddie out of his slump. When Wayne had given him that talk, it was Eddie's new best friend who'd helped him nail the interview at the auto shop. It was she who helped him find his new apartment (conveniently a 5 minute walk away from her own), and it was she who listened as he gushed about good ol' Chrissy Cunningham.

So here you were, once again seated at the register at your job, listening to Eddie go on about Chrissy's outfit that day on her walk home from teaching at the school. Did it bother you? Absolutely not. There was no reason for it to bother you. He was just a friend. Your best friend. But... then why did your stomach sink whenever he brought her up? Why did your chest feel tight? Why did it feel hard to smile when he laughed about how cute she was when she'd dropped her purse, or whatever book she was carrying? Why did you-

The ringing of the bell above the door pulled you out of your spiral, if for but a moment. You looked up, never more grateful in your life than to see the likes of Steve Harrington, who'd been introduced to you early on in your friendship with Eddie. He was a good friend of yours now, and often came to visit you at work, as with the others who’d stayed behind, when they had the time. Often, he wanted to talk about the latest gossip to someone who wasn't Robin (after all, he couldn't very well tell Robin half of the things he experienced, because she was usually there to experience it with him). He gave Eddie a good, friendly slap on the back as he approached the counter, leaning his forearms on the counter and leaning forward to greet you. Eddie made a face, annoyed at having been interrupted, but not annoyed enough to voice it.

"Hiya, Stevie," you greeted him with a smile, eyes communicating your relief at his arrival.

"Hey!” He responded brightly, but your relief was short-lived, as Steve took this opportunity to smile suspiciously sweetly at you, "so, any chance you want to take my shift later?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, "so that's why you're here? To ask for a favor? Even though you still owe me for the last shift I covered?" He had the decency to look at least a little apologetic about that, and nodded.

"I swear I'll pay you back for both. But... remember that girl who's been coming in every week to see me? I ran into her today while getting lunch, and she actually agreed to a date tonight. I swear, I'll more than make it up to you if you just please help me out today. I'll beg, do you want me to beg?"

You put your hands up in surrender, "woah, okay. No need to tarnish your dignity like that. I'm good, I'll stay. It's not like I have plans anyway, so one of us might as well get a date. God knows we could both use the romantic luck," you rest your chin on your hand with a huff, and he thanks you about seven times before running back out, leaving just you and Eddie once again (and, well, the three customers browsing the aisles of the store).

"So..." Eddie started, trying to keep the conversation from awkwardness. "No luck on the dating front, then?"

You couldn't help but to shoot him a dirty look, before you rolled your eyes and sighed. "No. There's no- anyone in this damn town. No one interested, and no one interesting. Maybe I need to expand my horizons and take a road trip out to Indie," you huffed. Eddie shrugged, turning to lean his back on the counter as he continued chatting with you, picking at his nails all the while.

"I think I might ask Chrissy to go out tomorrow night. Think she'll say yes?" For some reason, the fact that your misery led to him talking about his hopeful date sparked anger in you, but you didn't let it show. Did you think Chrissy would go out with him? Maybe. She was so sweet, you didn't think she had any reason to say no. She'd give him a shot, at least. But that was the trouble, wasn't it? If she gave him a shot, she'd see how wonderful he was. And then, maybe, you'd lose him for good. Was that something you were cool with? It wasn't like you were together. It wasn't like he'd ever looked at you the way he looks at her. It wasn't like you were in love with him... was it? 

That realization had you smacking your forehead lightly against the countertop behind the register, and Eddie turned around to look at you with a puzzled expression. "You good over there?"

You just managed a frustrated groan and the excuse, "just commiserating that everyone else has successful romantic lives and I'm stuck behind this register. Of course she'll say yes, she's too sweet to reject you, and you're awesome. Anyone who doesn't see my best friend's potential as a boyfriend is stupid and also rude." You finally looked up at him with what you hoped was a convincing smile. He couldn't help his own grin at that, feeling proud.

"It's totally settled, then. I'm going to ask her. What do you think she'll say to going to the new diner that opened up where Benny's old place was?" He asked, and you had to plaster on that fake smile again.

"Eddie, as long as you're there, she'll have a great time. Trust me." At least, it was true for you. If Eddie was present, you knew you’d have a great time. At least, most of the time. When he gushed about Chrissy, you had… less of a good time. But your compliment seemed to work, because he lit up like a christmas tree. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he gave you a beaming sort of smile, leaning over the counter to kiss your cheek. “I think I’m gonna go see if I can catch her on her lunch break. I’ll call you if it goes well!” He turned tail and ran, clearly excited. Luckily, he was gone so fast that he missed the way you deflated entirely. 

You were happy for him, and would continue to be if he managed to date Chrissy. But it didn’t change that you’d be jealous of her. A relationship - especially with Eddie - was time-consuming and all-encompassing. He would spend his free time with her, and you’d be left behind. It was natural, after all. What girl would want her boyfriend hanging out with another girl one on one? The thoughts plagued you, until a customer called into the shop asking about whether a certain book was in stock or not. After that, your day managed to go by a little quicker. 

You didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you were reading a book behind the counter and heard the bell ring as someone entered the store. Eddie slammed his hands down on the counter with a big grin, “guess what?” You peered up at him over your book and your heart sank, but you kept your expression clear for him.

“Hm… you’re a huge nerd?” You joked, and he made a face in response. 

“She said yes! She’s actually going on a date with me!” His eyes were bright and excited. “She said she’s cool with diner food, so… tomorrow night, I’ve got a hot date with Chrissy Cunningham. Will you help me choose what to wear?” And he just looked so hopeful, that you couldn’t possibly say no to him. So you agreed, and he sat around with you until the end of your shift. 

You wound up going back to his place that night, to help him in his search for an outfit. He even threw it in the wash so that he could smell good for his date. That night when you went to bed, you couldn’t help but to stare up at the ceiling and seethe for a few minutes, before letting sleep overtake you. Your dreams were the same as they always were - some shenanigans you got into with Eddie. Only tonight they held a different meaning, and when you woke up you were forced to reconcile with the information that was news even to you:

You were in love with your best friend. 

You went into your shift early that morning, stopping for coffee at your favorite place before starting your day at the store. You were able to distract yourself then, as Saturdays were particularly busy days for book-buyers. You hadn’t thought about your revelation since you’d had it. You had refused to acknowledge it, in fact. Eddie was your best friend. And he was going on a date with Chrissy Cunningham tonight. There was absolutely no point in thinking any more about potential feelings that may or may not exist. So you spent the day working, and maybe pouting. A couple of your friends stopped by to say hi throughout the day, but noticed your demeanor and ended up just letting you mope. 

Before his date, Eddie stopped by your job - and God, did it hurt. He looked so handsome. His curls were freshly washed and styled, his leather jacket hanging off of him like it was made for him, and his freshly washed jeans making him look more cleaned up than ever. When he opened up his jacket, he was proud to show off the button-up you’d helped him choose. ‘Dressy enough to be on a date, dressed down enough for jeans’ was what you’d told him. And his usual worn combat boots looked - almost good as new. When you asked about those, he was proud to say he’d spent his morning cleaning them with carpet cleaner and a toothbrush. Your heart ached that he’d never put that much effort in for you, not in that way. 

Before he could leave, you approached him to fix his collar and a stray curl, making sure he looked his absolute best. You refused to meet his eyes for your own sanity, and if he noticed, he didn’t comment. He just let you work your magic, and when you finally stepped back, you gave him your most convincing smile, and wished him well. “Call me if you need anything at all. I’ll be home tonight, and tomorrow morning. I want to hear all about it,” lie. “She’s going to have a great time, not a doubt in my mind,” truth. “I’ll be rooting for you,” lie. “You’re gonna do great,” truth.

He smiled proudly, and thanked you before giving you a big hug. The smell of his good cologne (only brought out for funerals and weddings) threw you for a loop, and nearly strangled you, but you managed to squeeze him back. When he ran out with a quick “love ya!” you just fell back into your seat behind the counter for the last hour of your shift. 

If you had any idea what was going on in Eddie’s head…

He’d only stopped by because he figured he should share in this exciting moment with his best friend. But something about your excitement had him feeling a little odd about the whole thing. And then you’d come up to him to help him straighten his shirt and fix his hair and you just wouldn’t look at him. He couldn’t understand why, but honestly, he was too focused on the fact that you were wearing your favorite perfume that day. He could tell you’d washed your hair that morning, too, because he caught a whiff of the shampoo you so loved. So when you didn’t look up and meet his eyes, he had to push down a weird feeling of disappointment. But he’d hugged you goodbye and you’d wished him luck, and that was that. 

Or so he’d thought. He showed up to Chrissy’s to pick her up, a cute little townhouse near the center of town, and did all the gentlemanly things he was supposed to do. He’d brought her a small bouquet of daisies, and walked her to the car and opened her door for her - it was all pretty textbook. She smiled and laughed during the drive, and it had Eddie feeling like he was already on the right track with this girl. 

Things did take a turn, though, when they actually got to talking after they’d ordered their meals. Because it would seem that Chrissy knew him better than he ever imagined she would. 

“Can I ask you a question?” She’d asked him, hands folded in front of her as she leaned close in curiosity. 

“Shoot,” he’d leaned back against the back of his seat, smiling. 

“I know you mentioned yesterday that you’ve had a crush on me for years, and I found that so sweet of you, Eddie, but… aren’t you in love with - well… you know…” She didn’t say your name, but only because it felt a little major to bring up your name if he hadn’t considered it. But he blinked at her, puzzled, and she realized she had no choice. So she finished her question with your name, which made Eddie’s eyes go comically large. 

“Sorry, what?” Was all he managed. His eyebrows slowly rose to his hairline, when she gave him a shy smile. 

“Eddie… you hear yourself when you talk about her, don’t you?” She asked, a soft giggle in her voice. “I’m flattered, I am. And I think you’re really amazing, and would love to date you. But only if I thought you actually liked me. I’m not accusing you of lying, I just don’t think you realize just how you sound.”

Eddie was not a man often brought to speechlessness, but Chrissy’s question stopped him dead in his tracks. You? That wasn’t possible. You were his best friend. Comfortably listed in the “friends” category in his brain… or were you? Chrissy, sweet Chrissy, pointed behind him to the entrance, and said “oh, I guess her shift must have ended! She’s here now with someone!”

The speed at which Eddie whipped around to look was nearly breakneck. When he saw you were, in fact, not there, he turned back to Chrissy with a blush and an embarrassed look in his eye. She just gave him that warm smile and sweet giggle, “I’m sorry, Eddie. But that’s not something someone does for just a best friend. Have you ever thought about that?”

He took a moment to rewind and think about his conversation on the drive here. Admittedly, he’d told Chrissy a lot of stories about you. He started by telling her all about how he would gush to you about his crush on her, but then devolved into just telling her about the times you’d hung out, and the fun things you’d done together. When she’d mentioned a restaurant or fun activity, he’d talk about a time you’d discussed the same with him. So, okay, maybe he talked about you a lot. And sure, he had thought about how much he preferred your perfume over Chrissy’s when he’d picked her up at her place, but that didn’t mean anything, did it?

And then he thought about how he’d felt so off when you hadn’t met his eyes when fixing his date night outfit. He’d never voice that one out loud to Chrissy, but he’d wanted you to look up at him and smile, and see how handsome he looked. He’d tried hard. The more he thought about it, the bigger hole he felt he dug himself. 

He blinked at her and groaned, burying his face in his hands in shame. “Shit. I think I’m in love with my best friend.” 

Chrissy, to her credit, took it so sweetly. She giggled and just encouraged him, telling him he should tell you and get it out in the open. Eddie, however, was so afraid. Afraid he would be wrong about the whole thing and you wouldn’t be interested in him in return. It didn’t matter, in the end, because his date (and now friend) was rather persuasive, and convinced him to do it as soon as he saw you next. And before he knew it, he was paying for their date, and driving her home. He liked being friends with Chrissy, he realized, and didn’t exactly desire any more than that. He’d always wanted her to like him, and now he knew she did - in a more important way than romance. She liked him for who he was, and wanted him to be happy. She wanted to be his friend. 

As soon as he dropped her off, she gave him a warning look and told him not to stray from his plan. It would work, and you’d be together in no time. He just thanked her and got back into his truck, driving home. His autopilot must have broken, however, because next thing he knew, he was pulling into the parking lot at your apartment. He sat there and stared at your door, the automatic light coming on and making his heart race. When he looked up, he saw the lights in your apartment were still on, signalling that you hadn’t quite gone to bed just yet. With his last hope of an excuse entirely extinguished, he got out of his car and stood at your front door for a few moments. Luckily, since you lived on the second floor, he got a minute to breathe before you saw him lingering at the door and freaked out about a stranger. So he took a chance, breathed, and did his special knock. 

You had been wallowing in self-pity all night, watching your favorite romcoms and snacking on your favorite chips and dip combo. Anything to try and forget about the realization that you were in love with Eddie. It was the worst possible timing, really. After all, he’d been hopelessly single for so long. You had to realize the day he wanted to ask his longtime crush on a date? You spent a long while beating yourself up about that, but eventually accepted your fate and tried to think about literally anything else. Hence, movies and snacks. You’d even tried to pick up a book at one point, but you realized that even that had a romantic plot, and ended up throwing it onto your bed and returning to the movies. At least romantic comedies had comedy. You’d even cried during one of your all-time favorites, which was infuriating - you could hear Eddie’s teasing voice in your head about how crying over a dumb boy was so not metal. If only he knew. So naturally, when his signature knock came from your front door, you were puzzled. 

You descended the stairs to the front door with your brows drawn together in confusion, opening the door in your pjs - soft pajama pants and a hellfire t-shirt you’d stolen from Eddie years prior. He was standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared at the apartment number next to your door. “Uh… hi? Shouldn’t you be on your date right now?” You asked, but opened the door further for him to enter. He shrugged and toed his boots off before heading up the stairs, leaving you to lock up behind him and follow - more confused than ever. “Eddie, is everything okay?”

He fell onto your couch and pulled the bowl of chips onto his lap, putting a chip in his mouth just to avoid answering the question. But you were too stubborn, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips. “Edward. What the hell?” He finally looked up at you with his big brown eyes at that, and had the decency to look a little shy. 

“‘M not in love with Chris,” he mumbled with his mouth full. You didn’t quite understand (or, you thought you didn’t) so you made a face at him, and he waited until his mouth was no longer full to repeat “I’m not in love with Chris. She’s- great. But I’m not in love with her.”

Your self-pity melted away for a moment at his ridiculousness, “Eddie, you’ve been on one date. You’re not necessarily going to fall in love over burgers, dude.” You looked at him like he was only slightly insane, which he appreciated. 

“Yeah, no, I know that,” he tugged at a strand of his hair. “I know that. I just… I am in love, y’know? Just- not with Chrissy.” And if that doesn’t confuse you even further. Your chest tightens for a moment, but he’s not making any sense, and you really just need him to stop being so cryptic. 

“Honestly, Ed, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you please just tell me what’s going on?” You sat next to him, facing him with your legs criss-cross. He refused to turn and face you, just setting the bowl of chips on the coffee table and staring down at his lap, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. You stared at him expectantly for a moment, and when he stayed quiet, you lightly punched his arm. “Speak, nerd.”

“Hey,” he finally pouted at you, rubbing his arm as if you’d punched him much harder. “I dunno! Chrissy had some enlightening shit to tell me. Apparently she knows me better than I thought she did. Actually, better than I know me. Which was super weird, by the way. I didn’t like feeling so exposed. But uh… She just opened my eyes. Turns out, I’ve been in love with someone for, like, a stupid long time.” When he stopped there, you almost punched him again, for leaving you on such a cliffhanger. He put his hands up in defense when he noticed. “Hey! Okay! I’m talking!”

He took a deep breath, “so, you won’t totally hate me for this, will you?” He felt he had to ask, and you made another face at him. 

“I mean, depends on who you’re in love with. If you have really bad taste, then yeah. I might,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He gave you his most unimpressed stare and rolled his eyes, before tugging at his hair again, a nervous habit you found annoyingly cute. 

“Uh- well. You, actually,” he said simply, with a nervous, almost self-deprecating chuckle. You blinked at him for a moment. 

“I’m sorry, me? Me what?” You asked, the possibility simply not computing in your mind. 

“You. I’m in love with you. Apparently been in love with you for awhile. Just didn’t notice because my head was too far up my own ass,” he said, finally meeting your eyes again, this time looking more sincere than he had in awhile. But you were skeptical, and afraid of having your feelings hurt. 

“Eddie, where is this coming from? You’ve always had feelings for Chrissy. It was like, a fact, at this point. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Eddie Munson has a crush on Chrissy Cunningham. You don’t like me, you never have. Not- like that,” you told him, a little insecure. He didn’t really seem to have an answer except to lean over and kiss your cheek, his own cheeks bright red. Your eyes went wide and you stared at him for a moment, fighting your own thoughts. You stared at each other, equally wide-eyed, until you finally blurted out “I’m in love with you too. And it’s so weird because I never knew I felt this way until yesterday, and I finally understood why it irked me so much when you wouldn’t shut up about Chrissy.”

The admission caught you both off guard, and neither of you really knew how to respond. Eddie let out a curse under his breath before leaning in and capturing your lips in a hasty kiss, just quick and short but enough to have both of your hearts racing. You let out a squeak, and just stared at him again, before throwing your arms around him to hug him close, enjoying the smell of his shampoo, and his good cologne. You had no idea where this would take you, or if it would last. All you knew was that as long as he was there, you’d be just fine. 

As it turned out, Eddie Munson does not like Chrissy Cunningham. At least, not in the way he thought he did. He liked her as a friend, sure. But his real feelings could be found around the one person who’d been by his side since his first day of his music history class at the local community college. The girl whose nerd matched his, the girl who never needed him to be anything except what he was. A girl to whom he wasn’t too much, or not enough. Instead, he was just enough. Just loud enough, just obnoxious enough, just bossy enough, just funny enough, just clingy enough, just affectionate enough. And now that he had her for real, he would never ever let go.

[darkbluekies]

Be good for me

Yandere!doctor OC (husband) x reader

Summary: Someone has left an anonymous tip about a certain someone in Kry's house, causing the police to stop by to ask some questions

Warnings: poison, toxic household, manipulation, toxic parents,

Word count: 1.8k

Dr Kry wets the cloth and cleans the counter, trying his best to stay calm. Their voices don't want to leave his head. They're banging through his skull.

“Let us in! We haven't traveled all this way for you to turn us away at the door!”

“I didn't ask you to come.”

“We shouldn't have to ask. We raised you for eighteen years. You owe us this.”

“I owe you nothing.”

He shouldn't have opened the door from the beginning. Would have saved himself from a lot of headache and anger.

He has just baked two sourdough loaves to get his itching fingers under control. They are now resting under a towel, waiting for the oven to get his mind off of everything. You are sleeping soundly upstairs, and when you wake up there will be fresh bread straight out of the oven specifically for you. The familiar itch in his hands comes back. That must have been the worst thing. That they saw you. And their stares towards you. He knew that they would look at you that way. I knew that you couldn't do better.

He stops in his tracks and presses his knuckles against his temple. He squeezes his eyes shut. His fingers are itching again. He wants to kill them. He should have. But you were there. God, he could never do such a thing knowing that you are nearby.

A knock on the front door brings him back to reality. He feels a shiver run down his spine as his suspicions levels rise. Closest neighbor lives a kilometer away and he's never seen them. Who would want something from him?

He gives the stairs to the second floor a quick look to make sure that you haven't awoken to come see who's at the door before he walks over to the front door and unlocks it. Two men in uniform meet his eyes. Cops?

“Good day”, one of them says.

“Good day”, Dr Kry answers, trying his best not to sound suspicious. “What can I help you with?”

“We have gotten an anonymous notice about someone in this house and we would need to come in and search.”

They’re talking about you, it must be. He already knows who has given them this “anonymous hint” and it makes his blood boil. But he can’t refuse them entry. They’ll know right away that he has done something. Better to play along and not give them a reason to distrust him.

I will deal with mother and father later.

“Of course, come in”, he says and opens the door for them.

His heart beats in his chest. He gives the stairs a quick look. Don't wake up.

“Are you home alone?” one of the policemen asks.

He can’t lie because what will he say if they find you? They will be suspicious of him.

“No, my spouse”, he says and feels how his throat dries out at the mention of you.

Now you are out in the open. He can’t take it back now.

“Where is your spouse?”

“Upstairs. They're sleeping.”

“We would like to speak with them as well.”

And I would like to kill you. He nods quickly.

“They’re sick”, he says stiffly. “I don’t want them to strain their body by physical exertion.”

“They can still be in their bed, we just want to talk to them”, they reassure.

Dr Kry swallows a deep, frustrated sigh. He refuses to wipe his sweaty palms. They will pick up on it immediately. He is about to fold his arms over his chest, but they will recognize that too. Kry glances towards them.

He walks upstairs with them behind him. He opens the door to the bedroom and walks towards your shared bed. You look absolutely wonderful sleeping on your side — the right side — of the bed. Dr Kry shakes you gently until your tired eyes flutter open. They look at him in confusion, and then at the men in uniforms in fear. He takes your hand, squeezing tightly, warningly.

“We’re sorry for waking you”, one of the cops says. “We just need to ask you some questions.”

Your wonderful eyes look at him, looking for reassurance. Dr Kry’s heart tightens. They’re scaring you. His heart can't take it, but what can he do? He should remain as normal as he can for as long as possible. Shouldn't do anything dumb.

“It’s okay”, he whispers. “They’re not here to hurt you. I won't let it.”

“What kind of questions?” you ask quietly.

Your tone is just enough careful and distrusting. His good girl/boy.

“Just some simple ones”, the cop answers.

Dr Kry squeezes your hand again, letting you know what to answer. It's not one of those hard ‘keep your mouth shut’ squeezes, but more of a ‘go ahead, it'll be okay’.

“Could you step outside while we ask questions, Mr Kry?”

He wants to scream. This can't be happening! Instead, he nods. He squeezes your hand once again. Watch your mouth.

You watch him leave and gulp. The cops turn to you.

“What's your name?” one asks.

“Y/N”, you reply in the same uncertain tone as before. “W-What is going on?”

“We're here to ask you some questions.”

You haven't done anything. You couldn't have. You've been here day out and day in!

“About what?” you hesitate to ask.

“We got an anonymous tip about a woman/man being mistreated here by doctor Karl Kry. We came to talk to you.”

Their words make you go cold. Scared that he will somehow be able to read your thoughts, when Dr Kry hasn't been nearby you have allowed yourself to imagine a scenario like this. But even fantasizing about it when he hasn't been home has felt sinful, scared that he somehow has been able to put a camera in your brain and know what you're thinking. He would be angry if he knew how much you've wished for a miracle like this.

And happy if he knew how hesitant you are now. What says that they will believe you if you tell the truth? Who says that they will take you with them here and now? If he knows that you've said something he will be angry. He will hurt you, make sure you will never talk to a cop again.

And if you leave him you might not be cured from this repulsive poison.

He walks back and forth, feeling nauseous. What if they take you away from him? Will he have to kill both of them here? In front of you? The thought is sickening. He can't kill them when you're watching. But what will happen if he does kill them? Do other cops know that they're here? Will they send more if they notice that they never came back? Kry can’t kill everyone.

Be good for me. Don't do it, please. I will reward you if you keep your mouth shut. I will be so good to you if you just do me this one favor.

The door opens and the cops walk out. Dr Kry hurries to stop and pretends to be unconcerned. The two cops walk out. He can hear you cry behind them and before he can think clearly, he pushes past them and marshes over to you, grabbing your shoulders.

What have you told them? He wants to shout.

He tries to look in your eyes to see if they're drenched in guilt or fear, to know if you have betrayed him or not. They're full of sorrow and regret … but neither fear nor guilt. He hugs you tightly. Your fingers dig deliciously into his waist.

“I think it's time for you to leave now”, Dr Kry says coldly over his shoulder. “You've upset my darling. I need to take care of them.”

The cops give no response. Dr Kry cups your cheeks, makes you look at him.

“Did you tell?” he whispers inaudibly to the cops.

He already knows that you haven't, but he needs the satisfaction of you audibly confirming it.

“No”, you sob quietly and shake your head in his hands.

He breathes out and gives you a small smile as his thumbs caress your wet cheeks. His neck bends down to kiss your nose.

“I'll show them out”, he says.

His big hands let you go. He leaves the room and follows the cops out to the stairs. Just a few minutes ago he would have wanted nothing less than to push them down. Kry can't relax yet. He needs to see their car start and hear their engine tune out before he can lock the door and feel that everything is over. That he won again.

The cops stop at the front door. One of them turns to him.

“You're a doctor, correct?” he asks.

“Yes”, Kry replies.

“What is wrong with your spouse?”

He hates the word ‘weird’ in the same sentence as you. Nothing is wrong with you. He decides not to argue about the term, and doesn't want them to stay any longer. Instead, he gives them a diagnosis that is similar to what he has caused you, just in case they decide to research it. It feels like hours before they let him off the hook and finally, finally leave. Dr Kry waits by the door and listens for the police car disappearing through the forest. He closes the door, locks it and breathes out.

He glances towards the stairs and runs up to you. You're crying into your hands. Dr Kry sighs and sits down on the bed, watching you with a heavy heart. The worst thing is that he understands how you're feeling. You wanted to tell them — you had a golden opportunity — but you didn't because you were afraid of what he'd do to you and the cops in case it failed. He hesitates before taking you in his arms. He rests your trembling body against his.

“It's okay”, he whispers. “You did the right thing. I'm so proud of you. You don't need to cry.”

“I- … I-”, you sob, not knowing what exactly it is that you want.

Dr Kry starts to rock you back and forth, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I know, I know”, he coos softly. “It's okay.”

“I just want to sleep”, you whisper.

“You can sleep. I will go check on the sourdough bread.”

He lets you go and wipes your tears. Before he leaves, he tucks you in and turns on some white noise. Kry picks up his phone as he walks downstairs. He doesn't have any of their numbers saved and have done his best to forget them. But if he knew his parents phone numbers, would he call?

His fingers are itching again. If he gets the chance, he will kill his parents, he's sure of that. This could have ended differently and it would be all their fault. He doesn't want to imagine the other endings. Dr Kry opens the oven, ducks away from the scorching hot mist welling out, and takes out the sourdoughs loafs. The urge to kill doesn't go away and he knows his fingers will be itching for a long time. Until he gets his hands on his mother and father.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Against transparency

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me at NEW ZEALAND'S UNITY BOOKS in AUCKLAND on May 2, and in WELLINGTON on May 3. More tour dates (Pittsburgh, PDX, London, Manchester) here.

Walk down any street in California for more than a couple minutes and you will come upon a sign warning you that a product or just an area "contains chemicals known to the state of California to cause cancer."

These warnings are posted to comply with Prop 65, a 1986 law that requires firms to notify you if they're exposing you to cancer risk. The hope was that a legal requirement to warn people about potential carcinogens would lead to a reduction in the use of carcinogens in commonly used products. But the joke's on us: since nearly everything has chemicals that trigger Prop 65 warnings, the warnings become a kind of background hiss. I've lived in California five times now, and I've never once seen a shred of evidence that a Prop 65 warning deters anyone from buying, consuming, using, or approaching anything. I mean, Disneyland is plastered in these warnings.

The idea behind Prop 65 was to "inform consumers" so they could "vote with their wallets." But "is this carcinogenic?" isn't a simple question. Many chemicals are carcinogenic if they come into contact with bare skin, or mucus membranes, but not if they are – for example – underfoot, in contact with the soles of your shoes. Other chemicals are dangerous when they're fresh and offgassing, but become safe once all the volatiles and aromatics have boiled off of them.

Prop 65 is often presented as a story of overregulation, but I think it's a matter of underregulation. Rather than simply telling you that there's a potential carcinogen nearby and leaving you to figure out whether you've exceeded your risk threshold, a useful regulatory framework would require firms to use their products in ways that minimize cancer risk. For example, if a product ships with a chemical that is potentially carcinogenic for a couple weeks after it is manufactured, then the law could require the manufacturer to air out the product for 14 days before shipping it to the wholesaler.

"Caveat emptor" has its place – say, at a yard-sale, or when buying lemonade from a kid raising money for a school trip – but routine shopping shouldn't be a life-or-death matter than you can only survive if you are willing and able to review extensive, peer-reviewed, paywalled toxicology literature. When a product poses a serious threat to our health, it should either be prohibited, or have its use proscribed, so that a reasonable, prudent person doing normal things doesn't have to worry that they've missed a potentially lethal gotcha.

In other words, transparency is nice, but it's not enough.

Think of the "privacy policies" you're asked to click through a thousand times a day. No one reads these. No one has ever read these. For the first six months that Twitter was in business, its privacy policy was full of mentions to Flickr, because that's where they ganked the policy from, and they missed a bunch of search/replace operations. That's funny – but far funnier is that no one at Twitter read the privacy policy, because if they had, they would have noticed this.

You know what would be better than a privacy policy? A privacy law. The last time Congress passed a consumer privacy law was in 1988, when they banned video store clerks from disclosing which VHS cassettes you took home. The fact is that virtually any privacy violation, no matter how ghastly or harmful to you, is legal, provided that you are "notified" through a privacy policy.

Which is why privacy policies are actually privacy invasion policies. No one reads these things because we all know we disagree with every word in them, including "and" and "the." They all boil down to, "By being stupid enough to use this service, you agree that I'm allowed to come to your house, punch your grandmother, wear your underwear, make long distance calls, and eat all the food in your fridge."

And like Prop 65 warnings, these privacy policies are everywhere, and – like Prop 65 warnings – they have proven useless. Companies don't craft better privacy policies because so long as everyone has a terrible bullshit privacy policy, there's no reason to.

My blog, pluralistic.net has two privacy policies. One sits across the top of every page:

Privacy policy: we don't collect or retain any data at all ever period.

The other one appears in the sidebar:

By reading this website, you agree, on behalf of your employer, to release me from all obligations and waivers arising from any and all NON-NEGOTIATED agreements, licenses, terms-of-service, shrinkwrap, clickwrap, browsewrap, confidentiality, non-disclosure, non-compete and acceptable use policies ("BOGUS AGREEMENTS") that I have entered into with your employer, its partners, licensors, agents and assigns, in perpetuity, without prejudice to my ongoing rights and privileges. You further represent that you have the authority to release me from any BOGUS AGREEMENTS on behalf of your employer.

The second one is a joke, obviously (it sits above a sidebar element that proclaims "Optimized for Netscape Navigator."). But what's most funny is that when I used to run it at the bottom of all my emails, I totally freaked out a bunch of reps from Big Tech companies on a standards committee that was trying to standardizes abusive, controlling browser technology and cram it down two billion peoples' throats. These guys kvetched endlessly that it was unfair for me to simply declare that they'd agreed that they would do a bunch of stuff for me on behalf of their bosses.

My first response was, of course, "Lighten up, Francis." But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that these guys actually believed that showering someone in endless volleys of fine print actually created legal contracts and consent, and that I might someday sue their employers because I had cleverly released myself from their BOGUS AGREEMENTS.

Of course, that would be very stupid. I can't just wave a piece of paper in your face, shout "YOU AGREED" and steal your bike. But substitute "bike" for "private data" and that's exactly the system we have with privacy policies. Rather than providing notice of odious and unconscionable behavior and hoping that "market forces" sort it out, we should just update privacy law so that doing certain things with your private data is illegal, without your ongoing, continuous, revocable consent.

Obviously, this would come as a severe shock to the tech economy, which is totally structured around commercial surveillance. But the fact that an extremely harmful practice is also extremely widespread is not a reason to keep on doing it – it's a reason to stop. There was a time when we let companies sell radium suppositories, and then, one day, we just banned companies from telling you to put nuclear waste up your asshole:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/19/just-stop-putting-that-up-your-ass/#harm-reduction

We didn't fall back on the "freedom to contract" or "bodily autonomy." Sure, what you do with your body is your own business, but that doesn't imply that quacks should have free rein to trick you into using their murderous products.

And just as there are legitimate, therapeutic uses of radioisotopes (I'm having a PT scan on Monday!), there are legitimate reasons to share your private data. We don't need to resort to outright bans – we can just regulate things. For example, in 2022 Stanford Law's Mark Lemley proposed an absolutely ingenious answer to abusive Terms of Service:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/10/be-reasonable/#i-would-prefer-not-to

Lemley proposes constructing a set of "default rules" for routine agreements, made up of the "explicit and implicit" rules of contracts, including common law, the Uniform Commercial Code, and the Restatement of Contracts. Any time you're presented with a license agreement, you can turn it down in favor of the "default rules" that everyone knows and understands. Anyone who accepts a EULA instead must truly be consenting to a special set of rules. If you want your EULA to get chosen over the default rules, you need to make it short, clear and reasonable.

If we're gonna replace "caveat emptor" with rules that let you go about your business without reading 10,000,000 words of bullshit legalese every time you leave your house (or pick up your phone), we need smart policymakers to create those rules.

Since 2010, America has had an agency that was charged with creating and policing those rules, so you could do normal stuff without worrying that you were accidentally signing your life away. That agency is called the the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau, and though it did good work for its first decade of existence, it wasn't until the Biden era, when Rohit Chopra took over the agency, that it came into its own.

Under Chopra, the CFPB became a powerhouse, going after one scam after another, racking up a series of impressive wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/10/getting-things-done/#deliverism

The CFPB didn't just react, either. They staffed up with smart technologists and created innovative, smart, effective initiatives to keep you from getting ripped off:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/01/bankshot/#personal-financial-data-rights

Under Chopra, the CFPB was in the news all the time, as they scored victory after victory. These days, the CFPB is in the news again, but for much uglier reasons. For billionaire scammers like Elon Musk, CFPB is the most hated of all the federal agencies. Musk's Doge has been trying to "delete the CFPB" since they arrived on the scene, but their hatred has made them so frenzied that they keep screwing up and losing in court. They just lost again:

https://prospect.org/justice/2025-04-18-federal-judge-halts-cfpb-purge-again/

Trumpland is full of the people on the other side of those EULAs, the people who think that if they can trick you out of your money, "that makes me smart":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/04/its-not-a-lie/#its-a-premature-truth

If Musk can trick you into buying a Tesla after lying about full self driving, that doesn't make him a scammer, "that makes him smart." If Trump can stiff his contractors, that doesn't make him a crook, "that makes him smart."

It's not a coincidence that these guys went after the CFPB. It's no mystery why they've gone after every watchdog that keeps you from getting scammed, poisoned or maimed, from the FDA to the EPA to the NLRB. They are the kind of people who say, "So long as it was in the fine print, and so long I could foist that fine-print on you, that's a fair deal." For them, caveat emptor is a Latin phrase that means, "Surprise, you're dead."

It's bad enough when companies do this to us, be they Big Tech, health insurers or airlines. But when the government takes these grifters' side over yours – when grifters take over the government – hold onto your wallets:

https://www.citationneeded.news/trump-crypto-empire/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/04/19/gotcha/#known-to-the-state-of-california-to-cause-cancer

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[kknighthood]

Cowardice Carl Grimes x Fem!Reader

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The journey to Alexandria was a long one. When we arrived, everything changed. It felt so unfamiliar to feel safe after all that was happening outside the safe zone. The faint groans of walkers were still behind the tall steel walls, but it was there, same for the constant fear of them falling.

People have integrated into this new society—this new home—which was to be expected. The whole purpose of Alexandria was to rebuild the civilization we once knew. At first, it was exciting. There were jobs for people to do, and plenty of food, shelter, and other kids. There wasn't much to complain about, but you had something that made your blood boil. Enid and Carl.

Before you arrived at the safe zone with your group you grew close with Carl. You shared everything, from your grief to food. He saved you; you saved him. Over time you developed feelings for him, waiting for the right time to tell him about your feelings seemed like the right move. Now it's too late.

Enid and Carl are together now, they always are. It doesn't matter if he was sneaking off to go read comics outside the walls with her, or if she was around his house helping him babysit Judith. They are always together. Carls started to distance himself from you. If you didn't like him so much, you'd probably be able to forget about it – about him. But you can't. When you see them laughing together and holding hands when they think no one can see it makes your heart ache and a lump form in your throat. You felt sick.

Lately, Carls has been too busy for you. Far too busy with his new 'girlfriend'. You were meant to go fishing with him a few weeks ago, something you always did. He brought Enid. When she got sick of sitting there Carl left with her, leaving you alone. That was such a small thing, but it all adds up. Every hangout he flaked out on to meet Enid, and every hangout after he gently denied meeting her more stung like antiseptic and a fresh wound.

Where were you? Waiting for him.

The wound already hurt, maybe the antiseptic was knowing he didn't need you anymore. Then you could move on. Perhaps that was just what you told yourself to make you feel better.

So, you removed yourself. Why wait for a boy who's already with another? That ship sailed, and you couldn't stand the feeling of waiting at that empty dock. That feeling of abandonment, anger, and sickness wasn't something you could handle anymore. It was suffocating, you hated it. You didn't even look at him, you couldn't. Not when you knew Enid was in his eye constantly. You haven't said a word to Carl in nearly three weeks. He's tried, it hurts but you haven't bothered to respond.

If you had the right time to tell him sooner, you'd be in her place beside him.

But you knew deep down the real reason you didn't tell him your feelings wasn't because of timing; it was because you were scared. Now, you must deal with the consequences.

You were sat in the attic listening to some old CDs you found around your new house in Alexandria. Your headphones were in as you just sat flicking through magazines about old celebrities that are long gone and beauty tips telling you how to use products you'll probably never see again. You skimmed over articles on how to choose the right lipstick, it didn't seem relevant. You haven't seen Chapstick in months, let alone lipstick.

In the corner of your eye, you saw the door open, your eyes searched for the person who opened it. "I've been calling you" Carol comes in with her arms crossed, she looked so smart these days in nice colourful cardigans and clean shirts. It was nice to forget about those old clothes she used to wear outside, you hoped you never had to see her in those again. She looked after you, you wanted this to work out for her, she seemed to like it here.

"Oh, sorry. Everything okay?" You turned down your music to hear the older woman.

"I'm heading out to the pantry, make sure you get your laundry folded before I come back" She nods at you.

"On it" You gave her a salute as she looked down at you seated on the floor

"Turn your music down, you'll hurt your ears!" she adds as she walks out, you gave her a salute as she walks out. You smiled to yourself as you picked back up your magazine. You doubt a boombox will do more damage to your ears than the gunfire you heard out there.

"On it..." You muttered as you flicked through the last of your magazine. It felt nice to hold a paper magazine instead of one of a gun. Needless to say, it's not something you'll take for granted again.

You flicked through CDs on the rack beside you. Your eyes narrowed as you tried to look for the one you were fine. You heard the door creek again. "I know, Carol... I'll fold them all real soon. I'll keep it down to." You hummed, you slowly turned around to see who you expected to be Carol.

It was Carl.

It had to be him, didn't it?

"Lesley Gore?" He questioned as he held up a CD that was on the table. He looked at you, his eyes had something you couldn't recognize.

"Yeah, its some 60s CD Spencer gave it to me. I'd like it back" You stood up and held your hand awaiting it to be returned. He sighed and placed it back in your hand for you to put it back in the rack. For a faint moment, she saw his eyes narrow with a hint of annoyance.

Carl doesn't like the fact that you seem to be ignoring him you can see it.

It's your fault. you should have confessed a long time ago. but he shouldn't have forgotten you either.

"How have you been?" He steps closer, he's trying the best he can to encourage a conversation. You let out a huff, he caught that too. "So... you're avoiding me now?"

"No, Carl. I'm leaving you alone. You're a big boy, you're fine."

"Leaving me alone? You're acting as if we're strangers now. What's your problem?" He said, his tone carrying a hint of irritation. He didn't like how you dismissed him so quickly.

"Why would I stay around? Do you want me to follow you as you go around following Enid? That's weird, Carl." Your eyes roll back in your head. It hurt too much.

He was surprised by your bluntness. He knew you weren't exactly happy about his relationship with Enid, but he didn't realize it bothered you this much. He didn't like Enid being brought into this either, it's not her fault. You knew that.

"It's... it's not like that" he says defensively. "And what does it matter anyway? You spend more time with Ron nowadays." Of course, he brought that into it. Ron. You only spent time with him because you needed a replacement for Carl, what were you expected to do? Sit alone? No thanks. Life is too short already.

"Exactly, because Enid ditched him too. You guys are made for one another, really!" You walked past him to leave the attic you walked down your stairs into your bedroom's vanity. If he wanted to go on about Ron, that's fine. you could always go pay him a visit later.

Your sarcastic comment stung, but he tried to keep his composure as he followed her into your room. He's never seen this side of you before. He leaned against the door frame as he watched at your vanity as your fingers worked at your hair undoing it passive-aggressively then brush at the knots out.

He waited until you undid your hair before he stepped further into the room. You really didn't know if he was waiting for an apology or processing what you said.

"You're jealous." He stated bluntly. You were ignoring him, despite how close you were, all because he was dating a girl. He came to that conclusion pretty quickly when you started fading away, but you weren't there for him to talk about it with you.

"Of what, Enid? Don't be ridiculous" You immediately got defensive; he couldn't help but let a smug smile grow on his face as he saw he hit a nerve at your reaction. You stopped braiding your hair to glare at him, you didn't like him reaching that conclusion. He paused for a moment and stepped closer to your chair, you could see him in the mirror.

"Yes of Enid, you're jealous because I haven't been spending as much time with you" He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, his voice getting more serious.

"...I have Ron. You said it yourself. I don't need you Carl, and you don't need me." you looked at him in your mirror as you continued braiding, his lips formed a line as you went on. "We're not joined at the hip, go lock lips with Enid or something. I'm busy" You turned around to glare at him.

Your harsh words hurt, and the mention of Enid's name made him get more riled with you. He took another step towards you, his eyes fixed on you through the mirror. "You may have Ron. But that doesn't mean anything! We've been friends for years. And now suddenly you're just discarding me because I'm not giving you enough attention." He waited for you to say something, anything. You didn't. you sat there braiding your hair as a distraction, this whole conversation made you swell with frustration. "You know what? Fine. If you don't need me, then I don't need you either." His expression hardened.

"I don't even know why you're here..." you muttered, your braiding slowed down to feel the soft hair under your fingers.

He scoffs at her response, feeling a mixture of frustration and hurt. He leans his back against the wall, his arms still crossed. "I came here because I was worried about you, but god... I don't know why I ever bother..." He couldn't believe how you were treating him. your indifferent facade was infuriating.

You had to look away, a weight settled in your stomach. Something you didn't feel before Alexandria filled you, emptiness. A cold emptiness, that drained the room of all warmth. It was something you never thought was possible around Carl.

"You're not even going to say anything?" He finally caved. He needed to hear you speak, to at least acknowledge his presence, but you just sat there, looking vacant. He finally had enough and huffs before he pushes away from the wall. "You know what? Fine, you win. I'll leave you alone"

He left your room and closed the door; he couldn't have imagined this heartbreak from such a close longtime friend. As soon as the door closed you felt everything crash down on you, you tried to be strong about losing him before. You were fine with slipping away, just fading out, however this ending was different. It felt so wrong; you didn't want to leave things like this. You didn't want him to leave at all, you wanted him to stay. You wanted everything to be different. You had so many wants, yet you're doing nothing. You stood up, you're fighting the weight of your heavy heart as you hurried downstairs.

You saw Carl through your misty eyes as he reached for the door handle, you grabbed his waist. Though it hurt having him stay, you did need him. You felt him freeze, it took him by surprise. You were so cold and distant earlier; he really couldn't understand this rollercoaster you were putting him through.

"Y/n..." he called your name softly. You couldn't help but tense, you feared he'd push you away like he did many times before for Enid. But Enid wasn't here. It was just you two. He turned to you slowly, his eyes were filled with longing. They lost that frustration they filled with a few minutes' prior. He was confused and hurt, of course he'd be. You were going on about how you didn't need him to now holding him like you didn't want him to go.

"You're an idiot..." Your voice broke, you tried to hold it together. Your head was buried in his back, you didn't want him to see you this way.

"Why are you doing this?" He whispered, his voice filled with both hurt and confusion. Though you two grew distant he still held onto what you both had. You couldn't let go of what never was. You missed him. "Just admit it.." he said under his breath.

You struggled you form your words. You didn't want to admit it to Carl, you hated admitting it at all. "I'm...I am- I'm Jealous." Your grip on his waist tightened as you tensed up.

"I wouldn't replace you with her." He whispered. You shook your head.

"That's not why I'm like this...I..." You couldn't finish what you wanted to say, it wasn't just cowardice. To say it now didn't feel right. Hesitantly, you let go. As badly as you wanted him, you couldn't just say that when he's getting so close to Enid. Its not fair on either of them. As much as your heart ached, it would still beat without him.

"Tell me, Y/n. You're not being fair here..." He took a step closer, his voice filled with both desperation and a hint of anger. "You can't treat me like this and expect me to understand. Not when you're the one who started avoiding me first-" he was getting desperate.

"I had to! I can't sit and watch you two get close as I sit there. It hurts, Carl. It was always me and you. Everyone in the group had their own cliques, but now it's you and Enid. Where am I? I should be there... I should have been honest" you can see the look on his face, hes sick of all this beating round the bush.

"Then tell me!" He interjects.

"I like you"

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I may rewrite this later, not a huge fan

2350 words.

[prying-pandora666]

Azula Respected Mai The Most

I just saw another Reddit comment saying Azula wasn’t friends with Mai and mostly only cared about Ty Lee. And I just gotta say…

I respectfully disagree.

The Boiling Rock proves Mai meant a lot to Azula.

First, Mai publicly commits treason and betrays the Fire Nation and Azula.

What does Azula do? Order the guards away and gives Mai a chance to explain herself. She even says “I never expected this from you” and “you of all people know the consequences”. Put a pin in that for a moment.

Giving a traitor who just publicly and flagrantly betrayed you and your nation to help an even worse traitor to your nation (Zuko, who on a personal level hurt both Mai and Azula by doing so) a chance to explain themselves is already significant. But even moreso is the fact that Azula doesn’t make a single move to harm Mai until Mai purposely and effectively hits Azula’s trauma weak point like the master marksman she is.

When Mai says “I guess you don’t know people as well as you think you do” this is already an insult. She’s putting down Azula’s intelligence and manipulation skills, things Azula clearly takes pride in. And yet despite how insulting that is, Azula still waits for Mai to explain herself. Even as Mai throws that barb at her, Azula wants to hear her out. Until Mai throws the even worse insult right at Azula’s weak point.

“I love Zuko more than I fear you” isn’t a statement of Mai being afraid really. It’s Mai throwing a powerful dig at Azula’s biggest fear and trauma, the one Azula tried to dismiss during The Beach with a joke to avoid showing her own vulnerability: Azula fears that Ursa hated and feared her but loved Zuko. It’s why during the mirror scene, a grief stricken and emotionally volatile Azula bitterly says to the hallucination of Ursa “even you fear me”.

Only then does Azula get triggered enough to lash out in return. Mai was only capable of hurting her so much precisely because Azula loves and trusts Mai so much, and precisely because Mai knew what to say to hurt her.

Even so, Azula does the forms for fire, not lightning. And after she is chi-blocked, Azula orders both Ty Lee and Mai jailed, not executed or banished despite having every right to do so since they just publicly committed treason against the Fire Nation.

See the quick strike? It’s more like when she attacks Iroh in The Chase with blue fire:

Lightning, by comparison, always has a wind up for her. Even when comet-boosted or otherwise.

Remember Azula’s line we put a pin in? Let’s go back to it now. Why does Azula say “I never expected this from you” and “you of all people”. What is the significance here?

We know Azula is a perfectionist. She can’t stand a single hair out of place. This informs her frustration with Zuko and Ty Lee, both whom she adores, but whom are constantly failing to stay in their place and play their role. Zuko messes up, gets himself banished. Ty Lee runs away and joins the circus. What does Azula do? Endeavor to use any means necessary to bring them back into the fold. It sounds crazy, but from her perspective, she’s helping them shape up.

But Mai? She’s different. Mai knows her place. She knows what’s expected of her. She says herself that she learned to be quiet and still so as not to risk her dad’s political career. She hates it and searches for any excuse to leave her stifling expectations at home, but she only does this in an acceptable way: when ordered by the princess to join her on a mission for the Fire Nation.

This is why Azula is especially shocked. Because of all people, Azula thought Mai was the only one of her friends who understood their duty to the nation and wasn’t a colossal fuck up.

Azula may be more affectionate with Ty Lee, but she definitely respected Mai more.

And I think the fandom doesn’t give their fascinating relationship or how it breaks down enough credit.