#err... at least not anymore

[shares-a-vest]

Festival (STWG Daily Drabble Prompt)

"Okay, Stevie – sweetheart, what the hell are you wearing?"

He attempts to step back, but Steve moves too, the fringe of his suede jacket swishing along with his movement.

"Festival chic," Steve answers with a shrug like his get-up makes total sense, "Don't worry about it."

He smiles back, and Eddie can't bring himself to say anymore about his boyfriend's... Outfit? Can you even call the mish-mash of preppy 80s and, err... festival chic a fully-fledged, carefully planned out ensemble?

All Eddie knows is that if Dustin could have made it out for the weekend, he'd be making fun of it.

And he blames Robin for the heart-shaped sunglasses that couldn't possibly be doing anything to protect from the blazing sun's glare. She's around here somewhere, similarly dressed like a thrift store threw up on her.

At least Steve is wearing boots to account for all the mud...

Steve smooths over the front of his shirt – Corroded Coffin's standard logo with worn details – a gesture more like something between feeling him up and giving an encouraging rub.

"Sure thing," he breathes – it's probably rather pathetic how this still does it for him.

Steve nods to himself at a job well done before leaning forward and Eddie yelps at the unexpected contact of a square smack to his ass.

"Go get 'em, rockstar!" Steve says, a teasing wink visible through his silly plastic sunglasses.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Beneath the Quirky Petals

Lee Chaeyoung x male reader

word count: 13K

You're at home, sinking into the leather couch while your brain is still trying to detach from the numbers, charts, and spreadsheets that the finance department throws at you like a machine gun loaded with pure bureaucracy.

A toast to surviving another week.

You pop open a beer can with the most satisfying sound you've heard all day. Friday night. No charts. No reports. No one-

The doorbell rings.

You freeze, the beer halfway to your lips. Who the hell shows up at your house on a Friday night? The delivery guy already came by, and your Chinese food is in the kitchen.

Maybe it's a neighbor?

Curious, but low on patience, you open the door. And that's when reality seems to collapse, because what you see doesn't make any sense. It's Lee Chaeyoung, popularly known as the weird girl from the finance department. And she's standing right there in front of you, holding a ridiculously colorful bouquet of flowers and a... box of chocolates?

"Surprise!" she exclaims, a big smile on her face.

Your brain blue-screens.

Surprise? That's the word she chose? Because you can think of several others: confusion, fear, panic - all of which seem way more appropriate. But you keep your composure, at least on the surface.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, trying not to sound like a malfunctioning robot. It's 8 PM on a Friday, and this is definitely not on your schedule.

She smiles again, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I came to confess my feelings!"

Ah, of course, she came to confess her feelings.

Because that's totally what you do to a coworker you've barely exchanged more than "good morning" or discusses work formalities. You feel your mouth open and close, desperately trying to summon words that make sense.

You fail miserably.

She doesn’t wait for rational responses. She simply walks in, as if your house is hers, handing you the bouquet of flowers and the box of chocolates like she’s offering you a promotion to Love of My Life™.

You look at the flowers, then at the chocolates, then at her. “What’s all this?” The question slips out before you can filter it.

“It’s for you, of course!” she says with a creepy sweetness. “Do you like it?”

“Err, sure…” you reply, with a smile more fake than your boss’s expense reports. You set everything down on a table, your hand discreetly reaching for your phone in your pocket. “Loved it…”

As she continues to ramble on about how you two have so much to talk about, you open one of the chat groups (the one reserved only for questionable banter) with the most evil creatures you know - your coworkers.

Your fingers fly across the keyboard:

"HELP!! LEE CHAEYOUNG IS AT MY HOUSE WITH FLOWERS AND CHOCOLATE!!!! SOS!!"

“I already know everything,” she says, grinning from ear to ear.

You freeze. You think your ears must be playing tricks on you. "Know everything about what?"

She giggles, the lightest, most annoyingly satisfied laugh you've ever heard. "You don’t have to hide anymore, silly, the feeling is mutual."

Right.

This.

Is.

Happening.

You force a smile that probably looks more like a grimace and try again, like you're talking to a very confused child. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chaeyoung."

She raises an eyebrow, as if you're the weird one here. "The guys in the department told me everything. I know you’re in love with me."

And at that exact moment, your phone vibrates with the fury of a thousand demons. You glance at the group chat. Messages are pouring in, a flurry of "lol" and laughing emojis. And that's when the truth stabs into your brain like a dagger: they set you up.

The bastards planned this.

“Who told you that?” Your voice comes out hoarse, like you've swallowed a cactus.

“Hmm, pretty much everyone in the finance department, and a few people from HR.”

You gulp. And that’s the closest you’ve ever come to a heart attack.

Chaeyoung tilts her head, her eyes sparkling with unshakable sweetness. “I... didn't expect you of all people to fall for me.” She says this with a tone of shyness that’s supposed to melt hearts. But yours, right now, is pounding so hard it feels like it might break through your chest and run for the door.

You’re about to say something - anything to get out of this mess - when she continues. “I guess now I can be honest and say I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since I joined the company.” She brushes her hair aside, clearly rehearsing what’s coming next. “You were one of the few people who tried to help me fit in. I’m really grateful for that.”

That last part hits you like a metal bar to the face. Because, yeah, you helped her out. But only because... well, it’s what you do. You were kind to her like you would’ve been to any other lost newbie in the corporate jungle. But now that you think about it, you realize the only person she's remotely close to at the company is you.

And, worth noting, looking at Chaeyoung now, outside of work, she seems… different. Even… put together. And pretty. Not the same clumsy Chaeyoung you bump into at the printer every day.

"Hmm... Want a beer?" you ask, because when your brain’s about to explode, your body decides beer is the solution to absolutely everything.

“Oh, sure, I love beer,” she replies, sitting down on the couch and placing her little purse on the coffee table.

You head to the kitchen, still dazed. You grab another beer. The sound of the can opening feels like a muffled cry for help. When you return to the living room, there she is, sitting peacefully, looking around. “Your place is really nice,” she comments. “So neat. I figured it would be, it matches your personality.”

You hand her the beer and sit down, wishing the couch would swallow you whole. Maybe, if you sit still enough, the universe will decide none of this is happening, and you’ll be back to a Friday night of just beer and silence. But no. Chaeyoung is there, on your couch, and she brought you a bouquet of flowers that you have no idea what to do with (do you need to water those?).

“So…” you try to start, but your mind is emptier than a ghost town. "What exactly do you think we’re talking about here?"

She smiles, that shy smile that makes you want to look anywhere but at her face. "I already said. The guys in the finance department told me you're in love with me."

You feel sweat trickle down the back of your neck, but you keep smiling. It’s the smile of a man walking straight toward a cliff, knowing it’s there. "Oh, they said that, did they?"

"Yeah," she nods eagerly. "It wasn’t just one person, practically all your friends confirmed it. They said you were just too shy to confess."

Shy.

The word floats through your mind like a bad joke.

"Look," you say, choosing your words like you're defusing a bomb, "this seems like a huge misunderstanding."

She blushes, her cheeks turning pink as if just talking about feelings is enough to trigger a nervous breakdown. "I... I know it seems strange. I mean, I never expected you to fall for me." She looks down, nervously fiddling with her hair. "You're the type of guy that all the girls in the department notice, you know? I thought... why me?"

“Why you?” you repeat, stunned. She’s talking like you’re some kind of soap opera heartthrob, when in reality most of your days are spent trying to figure out whether it’s time to replace the printer or if it’s just out of toner.

She smiles again, a small, shy smile, almost as if she’s apologizing for existing. "It’s just... I’m not like the other girls in the office, right? Saerom is so confident. And Jisun, she’s always so put together, knows how to talk to everyone. I'm not like that."

You don’t disagree.

Because, well, she is weird. But, for some reason, that weirdness now feels a lot less annoying than it does at the office. Maybe it’s the fact that, outside the corporate setting, she actually made an effort. Her hair is down, styled, without the usual scrunchies. The dress is simple, but... it works.

“I never thought someone like you…” she continues, clearly uncomfortable, “could like someone like me."

You almost laugh, because the irony of all this is that you’re not in love. But now, suddenly, the idea of someone like you falling for her doesn’t seem as absurd as it did twenty minutes ago.

She actually seems like a pretty dateable girl at this point.

“Chaeyoung,” you begin, and it comes out softer than you expected. "I’m just a regular guy. I’m not exactly the Prince Charming they’ve made me out to be."

"I know, but… you were the only one who was kind to me from the start. You always helped me with the reports, even when I didn’t know what I was doing. And I… well, I like you too."

And that’s when you feel a slight tightening in your chest. Because, unlike everything else, this feels genuine. It’s not your coworkers' prank, not the misunderstanding about you being in love. It’s Chaeyoung, the girl everyone calls weird, admitting she likes you. And somehow, that makes you want to rethink your whole life. You never participated in the jokes about her, and when they threw the ball your way, you just stayed silent. But you also never cared enough to do anything about it. In a way, you were complicit, and now, for some reason, it’s making you feel bad.

“I’m still so impressed with your house. It’s exactly how I imagined it would be, you know? Neat, elegant. It suits you.”

“Suits me?” You chuckle, because the idea that your house suits you means you must be the most generic person in the world.

“Yes!” she replies, excited. “You’re always so organized at work, always knowing what to do. I kind of… admire that… in a man.”

Now you’re treading dangerous ground, and you internally question if maybe you’ve been a bit too nice.

As she looks at you with those big, hopeful eyes, you realize you’re back at square one. What do you say now? How do you break the fantasy she’s built without breaking her along with it? A headache starts to form, not one that builds slowly, but one that hits you like a megaphone blast. You’re trying to pretend nothing’s out of control.

But it is.

“How did you get my address, Chaeyoung?” you ask, trying to sound calm.

“Oh, it was your friend, the one with the loud laugh,” she answers innocently.

Of course. Him. The idiot with the laugh that sounds like a train on fire. Internally, you promise that, at the next happy hour, you’re going to strangle him with a phone charger cable.

You take a deep breath, trying to choose your words very, very carefully. “Look, Chaeyoung... I think there’s been a big misunderstanding here-”

“It’s okay! You don’t have to run from what you’re feeling.”

You blink a few times, trying to process what she just said. “I… what?”

She looks even more excited now, like she’s at an amusement park and you’re the main attraction. “I’m so happy about all of this. It’s a little embarrassing to say out loud, but you’re going to be my first boyfriend!”

That catches you off guard in a way even the cruelest budget spreadsheets couldn’t. “First?” you repeat, the word coming out more like a confused echo.

She nods, looking a bit shy now. “Yeah... I’ve never dated before. Guys never paid attention to me, you know? From high school till now.” She looks away, sadness creeping into her voice like a shadow.

Damn. That hits you hard. A part of you feels a pang in your chest. You try to be kind – as always.

“Hey, Chae, you look... really nice today.”

Her face lights up, practically filling the room with her smile. “Really? You like it? And my dress, do you like it too?!” She stands up from the couch and does an awkward little twirl, like she’s showing off a wedding gown.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, not thinking much. “It’s lovely.”

She stares at you, her eyes shining like two stars about to collide. “I know you've probably heard this a lot, but you're so beautiful. The most handsome man in the office!”

You swallow hard again, feeling your throat dry as a desert. “I… Look, I’m not sure what to do… I didn’t have plans for tonight.”

“This is perfect! Just being with you is enough.”

Now, the desperation starts crawling down your spine, spiraling. You’re in a pit, and the more you move, the deeper you sink. The phone in your pocket keeps vibrating with your friends laughing virtually.

How do you get out of this?

“Are you really staying here?” you ask, awkwardly, unsure if you even want the answer.

She smiles, content. “Of course! We’re getting to know each other better now, aren’t we? That’s important for... our future together.”

Suddenly, she lifts her nose and sniffs the air like a puppy smelling steak. “What’s that? It smells so good.”

You feel your last thread of hope shatter. “Oh, that’s... Chinese food. I was thinking of eating it later.”

Her eyes light up again. “I love Chinese food!”

You look at the floor, the flowers, anything but her, and finally surrender to the tide that’s drowning you. “Err, wanna… share?”

She smiles, genuinely happy, as if this is the night of her dreams.

And you, well, you’re going to need more beer.

As you drag yourself to the kitchen, you feel the weight of the situation piling on your back. The microwave beeps, and all you can think is how it’s mirroring your brain: spinning in circles, overheating, and on the verge of exploding. Suddenly, Chaeyoung’s voice cuts through the silence from the living room, terribly cheerful, of course:

“I remember my first week at the company! Gosh, I was so lost, but you were amazing. Remember? When I stood by the coffee machine, trying to figure it out? And then you showed me the right button! It was so obvious after you explained it! You’re so good with that kind of thing.”

You’re tapping your chopsticks on the counter while glancing at your phone, checking the friends - or traitors - group. It’s chaos. A sea of messages. “HAHAHA dude, you’re FUCKED,” “new couple in the department?” and the inevitable flood of “congrats!” You type quickly: "THIS WILL HAVE REVENGE!!"

Chaeyoung continues, her voice full of admiration. “And that day when you helped me set up the emails, remember? I was SO confused with the passwords, and you explained it so patiently. You have this way of speaking that… it’s so calming, you know? Like you have everything under control all the time. It’s adorable.”

Adorable. That word echoes in your mind as you pretend to focus on the chow mein, trying to ignore the fact that your friends are turning the group chat into a stand-up comedy show at your expense. The phone buzzes again. “GO GET LUCKY, CHOSEN ONE” flashes on the screen, and you sigh, tapping your chopsticks on the kitchen counter. “All of you, DIE!”

“Oh, and I’ll never forget when you helped me with that mess at the copier!” Chaeyoung now seems to be narrating the greatest hits of your life, as if every moment was a milestone of heroic kindness. “You just pressed a few buttons, and suddenly the machine stopped choking on the paper. I was so impressed! And that serious look you had, like you knew exactly what you were doing… it’s so… cute!”

Cute. Of course.

Now, besides being the victim of a coldly calculated prank, you’re cute. While the rice continues to warm up, you open your phone again. Your friends are losing their minds laughing. “She’s already at your place, bro, it’s happening!” “Go for it with the weird girl!!” and “Is her dress sexy? Lol”. Your fingers fly across the keyboard: Seriously, FUCK YOU ALL!!!

Chaeyoung is still in the living room, completely oblivious to the mental storm you’re going through. “You’re always so… grounded, you know? Even when we’re in the middle of crazy deadlines, you never seem stressed. I find that amazing. Sometimes I watch you at your desk, the way you press the keys on your keyboard, so focused... It’s like you have a superpower!” She laughs at herself, that light, childish laugh that makes you feel like you’re in a rom-com scene – one you never wanted to be in.

You open the microwave, steam rising in slow waves. “You know, Chaeyoung? I just… do what everyone does at work. There’s nothing special about it,” you shout from the kitchen, trying to bring some reality to the conversation.

“Oh, but you are special!” Her voice returns with renewed enthusiasm, as if she’d been waiting for that cue. “Most people don’t even notice, but I see how much you care about the details. Like when you organize your desk! I love how your papers are always stacked neatly, the post-its all lined up. And that basic black mousepad? It’s so you.”

You rub your face, trying to process how your life came to this: your silent obsession with organization becoming the object of romantic fascination. All you wanted was to eat Chinese food in peace and maybe watch something mindless on TV.

The phone buzzes again, and you glance quickly. A meme of a wedding ring with the caption “Tonight’s the night.” You grit your teeth, but before you can respond, Chaeyoung appears in the kitchen doorway, smiling.

“Did you know you’re the only one who always says good morning to everyone when you come into the office?” She walks closer, holding a pillow like it’s some emotional prop. “I noticed that since day one. It’s the kind of thing that makes a big difference, you know? Little gestures like that… they mean a lot to me.”

“Yeah… I just try to be polite.”

She smiles as if it’s the greatest declaration of love ever made. You head back to the living room, placing the food on the coffee table, seeing no other way out, and murmur a final silent prayer: that fate, karma, or whoever is in charge might have mercy on your soul.

—

Somehow, you’re now sitting in your armchair, watching Babe on streaming. You’re not entirely sure how you got here. One minute, you were sharing Chinese food with a slightly unhinged coworker, and the next, she was excitedly explaining how this was her absolute favorite movie ever.

And, of course, Babe is now playing on your TV, while Chaeyoung sits on your couch, completely at home, narrating the movie as if you were blind and deaf.

"This part is so cute!" she exclaims as Babe tries to herd the sheep. "Look how determined he is! I love how he never gives up, you know? He reminds me of myself!"

You barely had time to grab a second beer before realizing, yeah, this is your night now: you, Chaeyoung, Babe, and the creeping feeling that reality is unraveling around you. With each new scene, she adds commentary, providing deep analysis of the pig’s nearly tragic determination.

"I related so much to Babe because he’s small and out of place, you know? Kind of like me at the company. No one expected anything from me. But I also want to herd my sheep someday!"

You blink slowly. "Uh… yeah, I can see the comparison."

"Right?" She’s thrilled, completely absorbed in the movie and her esoteric life metaphors. The movie plays on, and you try to focus on the pig, hoping he'll herd some clarity into your own situation.

Then, without warning, she gives you that look again - the dangerous one you don’t dare hold for too long. "Hey, why are you sitting over there in the armchair? Come sit on the couch."

You freeze for a second. The armchair, now that you think about it, feels like your last bastion of emotional safety. The couch is the battlefield, and she’s calling you to the front lines. "Oh, no, I’m fine here," you reply, trying to be polite but sounding like someone who just saw a ghost.

"Seriously? Come on, the couch is way comfier. It’ll be fun, we can watch together!"

The word together echoes in your mind like the sound of a giant hammer about to fall. You pretend to think about it for a moment, as if you still had a choice. "Alright, sure," you finally say, getting up with all the enthusiasm of someone walking to the electric chair.

You sit on the farthest corner of the couch, as far from her as you can without being rude. Okay, you think, this isn’t so bad. But then, little by little, she starts edging closer. First, she leans slightly toward the middle. Then, without ceremony, she practically leaps from one cushion to the next.

The proximity is becoming undeniable. You can almost feel the warmth of her beside you. And, of course, she keeps narrating the movie as if nothing else in the world mattered but Babe and his adventures.

"This is the part where Maa dies mutilated by dogs! I always cry here," she says with a sad expression.

Meanwhile, you feel a tear forming inside - not for the Maa, but for the situation that spiraled out of control long ago.

She glances at you, and you try to focus on the movie, but now it’s impossible to ignore how close she is. Until, suddenly, she leans her head on your shoulder. Gently at first, testing your reaction. And you, with the grace of a wooden post, sit there frozen, trying not to look like a department store mannequin.

"This is so nice, isn’t it?" she murmurs, her eyes still on the screen, but her voice soft, almost too sweet.

"Yeah… the pig. It’s… cool." You can’t even form coherent sentences anymore, feeling like the trap has fully closed around you. She’s there, nestled against you, and you’re more trapped than ever in this bizarre night.

Hours pass, and the movie finally ends with Babe herding his sheep like an unlikely hero. Chaeyoung jumps up from the couch, clapping her hands like she’s in a theater. Her eyes are shining, completely caught up in the emotion of the moment.

"Bravo! Best movie ever!" she exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. You, sitting on the couch, can’t help but chuckle. She really is a character.

Who claps while watching a streaming movie at home?

She turns to you, full of expectation. "So? What did you think? Isn’t it just wonderful?"

You allow yourself to relax a little, shrugging playfully. "It’s a fun movie, for sure… But, so, what are we watching tomorrow? Garfield?"

You threw the comment out there with a hint of sarcasm, certain she’d catch the joke. But, as with everything tonight, Chaeyoung takes it the wrong way.

"Garfield?! I love Garfield!" she exclaims with an enthusiasm you’d never associate with a conversation about Garfield. "We’re totally watching that tomorrow! I knew we had so much in common!" Before you can even open your mouth to clarify, she’s already hugging you with such excitement that you almost trip. "We were made for each other!" she murmurs, her face pressed against your chest.

And there you are, being squeezed by someone’s unshakeable devotion, who clearly didn’t catch the joke. Worse, you are starting to feel unwell. Not for the hug - though that’s plenty awkward - but because, well, you don’t want to hurt her. Chaeyoung may be odd, but she doesn’t deserve to have her heart shattered over a cruel prank by your coworkers.

You clear your throat, uncomfortable. "So, Chaeyoung… it’s getting kinda late, right? Maybe you should… head home."

She releases the hug, stepping back a little, looking genuinely sad. "Wow, you’re right. I didn’t even notice how late it was," she says, biting her lip, clearly regretful about leaving.

You mutter something almost inaudible, like, "Me neither..." which, let’s be honest, could be interpreted in several ways. Before things can get any more awkward, you grab your phone and call her an Uber. While you wait in a slightly tense silence, Chaeyoung picks up the box of chocolates and offers you one.

"This one’s special. Try it," she says, smiling.

You take it, because, well, what else can you do at this point? You bite into the chocolate, and to your surprise: it’s incredible! The dark chocolate and creamy filling are like a gourmet explosion in your mouth.

"This is delicious!" you admit, genuinely impressed.

Chaeyoung’s eyes light up even more. "I made it myself!"

You really didn’t expect that. "Really? Wow, it’s perfect."

She beams, clearly flattered, and suddenly seems even prouder. "Now that we’re together, you’re going to have these every day! I’ll make you sweets all the time.”

You swallow hard, not because of the chocolate, but because, honestly, you didn't expect this level of commitment in any relationship, let alone one that started with a huge misunderstanding.

But before you can respond, the Uber driver honks outside.

Chaeyoung stands up, grabbing her bag and getting ready to leave, but suddenly stops at the door and turns to you with an almost childlike expression of expectation. "Wait, aren’t you going to kiss me?"

You're standing there, in your living room, and the world seems to have frozen at the exact moment Chaeyoung says something you never thought you'd hear.

The air gets heavy, as if someone suddenly turned off gravity. You look at her, blinking, almost waiting for it to be a joke, but the gleam in her eyes... that gleam of absolute expectation... suggests it’s not. What do you do now? Jumping out the window doesn’t seem practical, and no convincing excuse comes to mind, leaving you with only one option:

"Ah... yeah, sure..." you begin, but the words betray you. Your brain is already short-circuiting. You think about saying it's not a good idea, that this is all a mistake, that maybe she should think a bit more before asking questions that make you want to vanish. But before anything sensible comes out of your mouth, you sigh and slowly approach Chaeyoung. The sparkle in her eyes grows brighter, almost as if it's about to explode from sheer excitement. Your feet feel like they weigh a ton, and your mind is screaming a chorus of don’t do this, while your body, for some unfathomable reason, propels you forward.

You lean in, and for a second of pure eternity, you’re both just inches apart. Chaeyoung is still looking at you like she's waiting for you to recite some kind of vow. There’s no escaping this now.

Then, before your mind can stop you, you kiss her.

At first, it’s like kissing a wax statue. She’s completely still, tense, as if she doesn’t quite know what to do with her own lips. And for a terrible moment, you think you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. But then, slowly, she begins to relax. You feel her body soften, and the kiss, which initially felt so mechanical, starts turning into something… different.

Her hand unexpectedly rises to touch your arm, and you feel the warmth of her touch seep through your skin like static electricity. Without even realizing it, your own hand has slid to her waist, gently pulling her closer. Her perfume - a mix of something sweet and floral, maybe jasmine, maybe some kind of unknown magic - floods your senses, and for a moment, as absurd as it seems, the outside world completely disappears.

Chaeyoung is the first to pull away, her eyes still wide, as if she’s just reached nirvana. "That... that was amazing!" she says breathlessly, her voice full of awe.

You swallow. "Yeah... it was..." You try to find words, but your mind is still in a total void.

She smiles, so sweetly it’s almost disconcerting. "Did you know that was my first kiss?"

You freeze, the words first kiss echoing in your head like someone rang a giant bell beside you.

First kiss.

You just gave her her first kiss. And now, guilt starts flooding you. Because whatever this is, whatever is happening between you two, it definitely shouldn’t have gone this far.

And yet, here you are, with Chaeyoung still smiling, radiant like a ray of sunshine.

Before you can think of anything to say, the Uber’s horn blares outside again.

"Oh! The Uber!" she says, hurrying to the door, but before she leaves, she turns one last time with that spark in her eyes that makes you want to run to the other side of town. "I’ll come earlier tomorrow, okay? That way we can spend more time together! Thanks for the unforgettable night!"

And without waiting for a reply, she disappears through the door, leaving you standing there in the living room, trying to understand what on earth just happened.

—

You wake up Saturday to your phone vibrating on the nightstand. Still groggy, you glance at the screen. 6 new messages. All from Chaeyoung.

[08:22]

"Good morning! 🌞"

[08:23]

"Last night was magical... I can still feel your touch on my lips 💞"

[08:23]

"I can’t wait to see Garfield tonight!"

[08:24]

"Are you up yet? :)"

[08:40]

"Look at my scrambled eggs! 🍳"

(accompanied by a pic of... scrambled eggs, naturally).

[08:55]

"And my cat, Lily, is waiting to get to know you better! 🐱"

(a pic of her cat, apparently with no clue of what’s going on).

You sigh, rubbing your eyes to wake up fully. The day has barely started and Chaeyoung is already in fifth gear, ready to drag you along. But before you can come up with a response, your work group chat starts blowing up too. And now, less tired, you realize that it wasn't a good idea to tell the embarrassing details.

Strictly Serious and Professional Coworkers Group:

"GOOD MORNING LADIES!

Oh, especially to our Brad Pitt haha"

"By the way, how was the kiss? 😘"

"Does she already call you 'baby'??"

"I can't believe that even Chaeyoung is dating and I'm not 😂😂"

"Admit it, you’re in love!"

"Never thought I’d be excited for Monday"

You roll your eyes at the group messages, cursing your fate. "I need help, you guys took this way too far!" you type quickly.

“LOL chill, man, you’re in a rom-com!”

“Have you picked the wedding venue yet?”

“We helped you find the love of your life and this is how you thank us???”

“Hey, but seriously, take care of her, she seems really into you”

“Good luck, you’re gonna need it!”

“Is Garfield gonna be the best man?”

You put your phone down for a moment, hoping breakfast will bring some clarity. But the battle is only beginning. Chaeyoung keeps filling your inbox with updates about her morning, pictures of her next steps, and even a video of Lily scratching the couch.

Finally, you reply: "That’s nice, Chaeyoung. Have a great day!" She responds with a heart emoji.

The rest of the day passes agonizingly. Every half hour, a new message arrives. Pictures of her at the mall. Pictures of her eating ice cream. Pictures of Lily. She’s basically creating a diary just for you. You respond sporadically, with generic replies like "Cool" or "Cute cat," but without much enthusiasm. All in a desperate attempt not to encourage her even more.

Then, at 5:45 PM, you receive the most dreaded message: "I’ll be there at 7:00!!! :)"

You knew this moment was coming. You spent the whole day trying to come up with an excuse, and nothing brilliant struck your mind until this critical moment. But finally, you have an idea. The old, never-fail excuse: you’re going to say you’re sick.

"Ah, Chae… I think tonight’s going to be tricky. I’m not feeling well. I’ve got a fever and a headache"

You even add a sick emoji.

Who wouldn’t believe that?

Her reply comes almost instantly. "OMG!! What happened? Are you okay? Do you need me to bring medicine?"

"No need, I’ve already taken some. I just need to rest. We'll watch Garfield another day, I promise," you respond quickly, already feeling the vibe of a peaceful weekend.

"Aww, that’s a shame… I was so excited... :( Get better soon, sweetie 🥺"

You let out a long sigh of relief, finally thinking you're free, at least for a while. Silence falls like a comforting blanket over your house.

Peace at last.

Hours pass. You’re sitting on the couch, content, with a pizza, a cold beer, and a documentary about the Vietnam War on TV. Everything is as it should be, the natural order of things restored. Until… the doorbell rings.

You pause with the pizza halfway to your mouth.

"It can’t be her. I said I was sick."

Convinced it must be just a neighbor, you open the door with the skepticism of someone who’s seen too much of life.

But no, it’s not the neighbor.

It’s Chaeyoung.

And she’s holding a huge bag, with that cheerful smile like she’s been hired to keep you company in a cold medicine commercial.

"Surprise!" she says, walking through the door as if she already had a key. "I came to take care of you!"

Your mind freezes. For a second, you wonder if you’ve slipped into a parallel reality where "I’m sick" translates to "please come over and take care of me like I’ve broken both legs." She opens the bag and starts pulling out medicine, tissues, and even a thermos.

"I brought tea, meds, and I even made some soup!" She says it with the enthusiasm of someone who thinks they’re saving the day.

"Chaeyoung... you didn’t have to come..." you begin, trying to hide the confusion and panic already bubbling up inside you.

"Of course I did! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of my baby?"

“Girlfriend?!”

Your brain almost short-circuits at that word.

"Yes! We’re in love with each other, we’re basically dating. You just need to make it official. And couples take care of each other!" She’s already taking off her coat and heading to the kitchen with the ease of someone in a '90s sitcom. "Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything. You just need to relax."

You’re left standing there in the living room, paralyzed. All you wanted was a quiet Saturday. Now, you're engulfed in the smell of soup and the absurd idea that you have a girlfriend who thinks Garfield and cold remedies are the foundation of a relationship.

She comes back with a steaming bowl of soup, handing it to you with a smile. "Here, love. This will make you feel better in no time!"

"Just… put the soup anywhere. I, uh, need to go to the bathroom real quick," you say, abruptly leaving the room.

You lock yourself in the bathroom, pulling your phone out of your pocket like a man on the edge of a breakdown. As the world outside gets increasingly... Chaeyoung, you open your friends' group chat, furiously typing:

"You're all dead. Every one of you!"

The reply comes in seconds, like hyenas circling a carcass.

"HAHAHAHA dude, you still haven't told her??"

"Seriously, someone help me. This girl’s completely in love, and it's getting out of hand. I can’t just tell her it was a prank, she'll be crushed"

"Imagine her face when she finds out, it’ll be like when Babe realizes he's NOT a herding dog"

"For the love of God, is anyone going to help me?"

A notification appears: Saerom was added to the group.

Great, Miss Nosy has entered the chat.

"I just found out what you guys did. You’re all jerks. Honestly, this prank went way too far!!"

You breathe a sigh of relief. An ally.

She continues:

"Don’t tell her it was a joke, or she’ll never step foot in the office again. You need to be more... gentle"

"Gentle? How am I supposed to be gentle?"

"Just make something up about being scarred by a past relationship, something unresolved. Say you like her but you're not ready"

"Past relationship? All my relationships were healthy... as much as they could be"

"Then use your imagination, genius. Lie and say it was traumatic. You need to talk to her before this gets out of control"

You thank her, knowing it’s going to be a disaster. But at least it’s a plan.

—

She takes another bite of your pizza, chewing absentmindedly while you take another spoonful of soup. The soup, to your surprise, isn’t bad. It's actually good, which only makes the situation more depressing. As you eat, your attention shifts to Chaeyoung, who’s happily nibbling the last slice of your pizza. You feel a pang of sadness and resignation; life really isn’t fair, but at least the soup is decent.

And then, out of nowhere, Chaeyoung starts talking about the past. Of course, she starts talking about the past, because what else did you need right now, besides a dive into emotional tragedies?

"You know," she says with a long sigh, as if recalling an old wound, "I was never one of those popular girls. Not in high school, not in college. I was always... invisible. Like, the kind of girl who’s in the group, but no one knows her name."

She leans in a little closer, her wide, bright eyes locked on you. "When I was in high school, there was a party that all the girls in my class were invited to. Me? Not even a mention. Not even an invitation. And the boys? They didn’t even know I existed. They were all more interested in the girls who wore lip gloss and knew how to walk in heels. I just... I just wanted someone, anyone, to notice me, you know?"

You feel the soup thickening in your mouth. "Yeah, I... I know what you mean." Of course, you know. Who doesn't? You’ve met plenty of girls like that, from middle school to high school.

But you also know that none of this is about you, so you swallow her sadness along with the soup.

"Then, in college, I thought things would change. I even made an effort, you know? I started dressing up more. I wore contacts instead of glasses. I tried to seem more... approachable? But guess what? Nothing changed." She shrugs, like she’s used to it, but you see a flash of pain in her smile. "I tried so hard to be nice to people, to be the perfect friend, the hardworking student... And I always ended up being the one who got forgotten when they made lunch plans after class. The other girls would get together to take cute pictures with their boyfriends, and me? Well, I took selfies with my cat."

You give a smile, and this time it’s not forced. There’s something genuine about the way she talks, a kind of sweet sincerity, even if a bit overdone. "Lily?"

She smiles. "Lily! Yeah. She’s the only one who’s been there for me, you know? Always listening, always understanding... She never judged me. And now, baby," - because of course, she keeps calling you that - "now I have you. And I never thought this would happen. I guess it was worth waiting all this time."

There’s something touching about all of this. What starts as a slight discomfort slowly turns into self-reflection. You always thought these stories were, deep down, about other people. But as she talks, you realize that maybe you understand exactly how she feels: that invisibility, the sense that the world keeps spinning without even noticing your presence.

And, before you know it, you start sharing a bit of your own past. Not the big details, but enough to fill the conversation. You talk about how quiet you were in school, how you had friends but were never the center of attention. "I was more the guy who stayed in the library while everyone else was playing basketball," you say.

She looks at you, almost shocked. "Really? You seem so... popular now. I mean, you talk to everyone at the office. People always listen to what you say."

You smile with a hint of irony. "I guess I learned to adapt."

"That’s amazing." Her eyes shine again, this time with genuine admiration. "I was never good at that. Adapting, I mean. That’s why it was so hard when I started at work... If you hadn’t been so kind to me at the beginning, I don’t even know how I would’ve managed."

And then, in a flash of courage you can’t quite understand, you let out a compliment. "You’re more adaptable than you think, Chae. And honestly, you look... really pretty today."

The smile she gives you could light up a stadium. "You really think so?”

"Yeah," you say, trying to keep your tone light, not wanting to put too much weight on the compliment, but already feeling the growing responsibility behind every word. "The makeup, the way you styled your hair. Everything."

She looks so radiant that you almost regret saying it. Almost. "Wow, you're the best! Seriously! I never thought a guy like you would even notice me. I know, for you, it must be normal to be... amazing." She looks down, her cheeks turning pink. "But for me, all of this is so new. It's like, all of a sudden, I’ve found... the perfect person."

Oh no.

The perfect person.

That phrase hits you like an invisible anvil.

Desperately searching for a way out, you look away. "Well, sometimes I think... a young bird shouldn't be trapped in a cage." You start rambling, hoping the metaphor will get through to her, but she just blinks, confused. "You know," you continue, already sweating internally, "birds should fly free, explore the world."

She nods, smiling. "Oh, yes, I totally agree! I think cages are cruel. I would never keep a bird trapped. They need to be free." And there goes your metaphor. You try to force a laugh, but it sounds like the creak of an old, rusty door. "Everyone should realize that, it's so obvious." Chaeyoung smiles, fully absorbed in her own romantic vision of things. "Like I was saying, I’ve found my person. And now, with you, I feel like I can finally be myself."

“Err, excuse me for a second,” you say, standing up from the couch, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

The tiled walls around you feel like the only safe place in the house. A precious moment to breathe, and of course, update the group:

"Dude, this is harder than I thought. She's opening up about her whole life and... God, it feels impossible to escape without breaking her"

The group chat starts popping off like popcorn in hot oil.

"Man, for the love of God, just tell her you have a traumatic past. Like, 'Oh, my heart's been broken and I'm not ready for this"

Naturally, someone else chimes in.

"Seriously, that excuse ALWAYS works. Girls don’t question it, they just give you that ‘aww, poor thing’ look, and you’re good"

"I'm scared she’s going to start crying. I can't handle girls crying"

You can almost hear the collective sigh of frustration from the other side of the screen.

"Crying? That's the least you're gonna have to deal with if you keep dragging this out. Seriously, if you were more direct, she’d be out of there by now"

"YOU’RE the ones who put this ridiculous idea in her head! It’s not like I asked for this mess"

"Yeah, but you’re the one letting it go on this long. We picked you as the target because you’re all mature and polite; we thought you could handle it"

"Dude, man up. What’s a few tears? You’ll survive. She’ll survive"

"Survive? I’m the only one here who had to hear about how her cat is the only being who’s ever loved her unconditionally since college! What do you want me to do? Crush her dreams with a sledgehammer?"

"Yes. That’s exactly what we want"

You’re about to type another angry response when Saerom steps in with a message.

"Guys, seriously, the problem is he's a coward. He’s afraid of a cute girl who just wants love. You're dragging this out unnecessarily. I'd say you’re even enjoying having a girl at your feet..."

Oh, Saerom, this is the same Saerom who was doubled over laughing at lunch yesterday when Chaeyoung smiled every time she looked at you. You take a deep breath before typing.

"Excuse me, WHO set this up in the first place? I know it wasn't me. And don’t pretend to be all sensible now, Saerom, I remember you making jokes about Chaeyoung when she first joined the company. Just a reminder: this fucking prank was NOT MY IDEA"

Saerom replies:

"And who’s feeding her delusion, pretending everything’s fine?

Exactly, YOU"

You lean against the sink, letting out a heavy sigh. This conversation is going nowhere. You didn’t ask for this, didn’t ask to be dragged into the emotional life of someone as intense and awkward as Chaeyoung. But here you are, suffering because you’re too nice, while your so-called friends are more interested in watching you struggle.

The mental alarm bell of "just end this already" rings in your head, but like a soldier without ammunition, you find yourself fighting through a minefield of hopes and expectations.

The truth is, as you type, you already know you won’t be able to be direct. Not with Chaeyoung, not with that strange mix of awkward sweetness and infectious enthusiasm she brings.

You don’t want to be the villain in her story.

"Fine, I’ll do something about it. But if she starts crying, that’s on you guys. You’ll all pay"

Taking a deep breath, you leave the bathroom, ready to put the plan in motion. But when you return to the living room, there's no sign of Chaeyoung. The TV is still on, some random show playing, but she... is gone.

"Chae?" you call, wandering through the house.

Nothing.

Then, you find her in the music room, admiring your vinyl collection. She’s standing in front of the shelves, her fingers gently brushing over the album covers.

"You have an amazing collection!" she exclaims, spinning on her heels to face you, her eyes full of admiration. "I had no idea you collected records!"

You try to downplay it. "Oh, it's just a silly hobby. I like music... and vinyl. There’s something more authentic about the sound, you know?"

She picks up an album, inspecting the cover art. "Wow. Led Zeppelin, The Smiths, Pink Floyd... You have great taste. This is so... you!" She smiles, as if that explains everything.

You chuckle. "Well, they’re classics, right?"

Chaeyoung moves from one record to the next. Each vinyl is treated like a relic, something precious, and you, watching from the other side of the room, can’t help but smile. It’s strange, but something about the way she marvels at your collection makes you... happy.

"Oh my God, you have The Beatles! I love them. Did you know I once painted a picture inspired by ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’? It was all in shades of purple and blue, kind of psychedelic, with floating stars and... Well, I’m terrible at describing it, but you get the idea!" Chaeyoung talks so fast that the words seem to trip over each other, as if they're racing to get out of her mouth.

"Wait, you paint?" The surprise in your voice is genuine. So far, Chaeyoung has been full of surprises, but the fact that she paints is something you definitely didn’t expect.

She beams, excited, putting the Beatles record back and turning to you with shining eyes. "Yeah! Ever since I was a kid, actually. In school, I was that weird girl who would be painting instead of paying attention in math class. Not that my teachers liked that, but I always thought art was more important than calculating angles."

You nod, genuinely intrigued by how interested you are. "And what do you paint besides psychedelic Beatles scenes?"

"Oh, a bit of everything! Nature, flowers, cats, starry skies... Mostly when I’m sad, I paint the night sky. The stars make me feel... less alone."

The image of Chaeyoung painting in silence, surrounded by colors and stars, fills your mind. And it’s impossible not to find her endearing in this moment. The energetic and slightly crazy girl who’s now in your house has a depth you hadn’t noticed before. You find yourself curious, more interested than you expected.

"I never imagined you were a painter," you say. "It must be nice to have something like that, to express how you feel."

She shrugs but smiles proudly. "Yeah, it helps. Sometimes life gets confusing, you know? And so do people. But when I paint, none of that matters. It's just me, the colors, and the rest of the world disappears."

You smile, stepping closer to her. "I'd love to see one of your paintings someday."

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, she’s speechless, something rare for her. "Really? You’d like that?"

"Of course," you respond, without realizing just how honest you're being. "I think it’d be amazing."

Chaeyoung smiles so openly that you almost feel the room warm up. "I’d love to show you! I have a bunch at home. I thought about sending you some pictures today, but I wanted you to see them in person. I wanted it to be kind of a surprise."

You find yourself torn.

Now, seeing her here, excited about your records, almost dancing with every vinyl she picks up, you begin to feel something uncomfortable. Something that nags at your conscience like an itch.

Maybe, just maybe, you weren't as eager to end this as you thought.

Yes, all of this started as a big prank. Yes, your coworkers are a bunch of jerks who threw you into this situation without mercy. And yes, Chaeyoung… well, she’s a bit eccentric, to say the least. But there's something about her, a sincerity, a disarming purity, that makes it hard to keep thinking of her as just "the weird girl from the office."

You look at her now, smiling at something she found - a David Bowie album you’d almost forgotten you had. The way she interacts with your things, as if she’s discovering every part of you with the same enthusiasm a child would have opening a Christmas present. There’s no pretense in anything she does. Chaeyoung isn’t trying to impress you. She’s not here to prove anything. She’s just... herself. And as scary as that is, it’s also, in some way, comforting.

Suddenly, the excuse you were about to use - "I'm not ready, I'm still recovering from a bad relationship" - seems too fake to you.

A small voice - the kind that always knows more than the rest of you is willing to admit - whispers that maybe, just maybe, you’re overcomplicating things. Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you just… let things happen.

“Are you okay?” Chaeyoung asks suddenly, turning to you with a smile.

“Yeah, just... thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” She approaches with her usual curiosity.

You hesitate. “I was thinking that... maybe I’ve been too quick to try and figure all this out.”

She frowns for a moment, trying to read between the lines. Then her face lights up. "You’re worried that things are moving too fast?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Look, I'm not good with this stuff. Dating, friendships, these... relationship rules. But I know I like you. And I know you make me happy. I don't know what else I should be thinking about besides that."

And in that moment, reality hits you hard. Maybe the problem was never Chaeyoung. Maybe the problem is you, stuck in an idea of how things should be, when in fact, what you’re experiencing now is as real as anything you could’ve planned.

"You're right," you say finally, feeling a strange mix of relief and acceptance. "I think I was overcomplicating it… By the way, can I ask if you're free tomorrow night?"

"Yes! Why?"

"I... was thinking... maybe I could take you out to dinner."

If she was excited before, now she looks like she’s won the lottery. "REALLY? Oh my God, yes! Of course, I’d love to!" She starts bouncing slightly, barely able to contain her excitement. "Oh wow, this is going to be amazing! I can't believe you want to take me out to dinner!"

"Yeah, well... I just thought it’d be nice. Nothing too fancy."

"Nothing too fancy?" She looks at you incredulously. "It’s the best thing ever! It’s going to be so romantic!" And then, without warning, she hugs you. "I knew you were a gentleman from the start!"

You clear your throat, feeling a bit awkward. "Well, uh... since it’s raining outside... do you want to stay over tonight?"

And if you thought she was happy before, now she’s absolutely over the moon. "OF COURSE I DO! Actually, when I came, I thought you were still sick, so I brought my pajamas. I thought maybe you'd need someone to take care of you."

She smiles with such genuine innocence that you almost forget you were plotting to end this a few minutes ago.

But the truth is, deep down, you’ve always found her oddness at work kind of... cute. Like that day she showed up with dinosaur socks under her business slacks. The whole office laughed behind her back, but you thought, in some way, it was adorable. And brave. She didn’t care about the unspoken rules of the workplace. She was just being herself, and that took a kind of strength you, for some reason, had never given proper credit to.

You remember when she opened her lunchbox during the lunch break, revealing a work of art made of food: rice in the shape of a heart, seaweed bears, and vegetables so well-arranged they looked like a painting. Everyone laughed, called it childish, but you... You found yourself admiring it. You didn’t say anything, of course. Stayed quiet. But, honestly, you thought it was incredibly creative.

And when she was in charge of organizing the year-end party? Everyone was horrified by the PowerPoint full of emojis and bouncing animations. To them, it was “corny”. To you, it was a genuine attempt to make something fun. Something you secretly admired. You could see how hard she had tried. But, as always, you bit your tongue, let the moment pass, and hid in the mediocrity of consensus.

Now, as she smiles at you, you have this epiphany: maybe you’ve always liked her. Not in the obvious, immediate way the rest of the world expects. But in a subtler, quieter way. The kind of attraction that comes from admiring someone for being authentic, for being weird in a way the rest of the world finds unsettling, but you... well, you’ve always found fascinating.

And then, there's the other thing: all this time, you weren't worried about her. You were worried about what others would think. That invisible weight you carry when you're around people who judge you for everything, even the way you look at someone. Your friends, the office, the behind-the-back laughter. They shaped you more than you wanted to admit. You stayed silent when they laughed at her, you let them guide your perception, even when, deep down, you knew something was off. And this makes you think that things would have to change now. No more complacency. No more jokes at Chaeyoung’s expense. Everyone in the office would treat her well from now on, and you would ensure that.

You realize it wasn’t her who pushed you away. It was your own cowardice. The way you let others influence what you felt. And now, seeing her here, surrounded by your records, you realize you’re more comfortable than you’ve ever been with anyone else.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask.

She stares at you for a second, maybe surprised by the softness of the question, but then she smiles. "Of course you can!"

And then, without further hesitation, you lean in and kiss her. It's the kind of kiss that makes time stop - or, at least, makes you wish it would. Her arms naturally find their way around your neck, and for a moment, it's just the warmth of her lips, the way she fits into you.

When you finally pull apart, breathless, she sighs and says, without any filter: "I like your lips."

You laugh, a little surprised by her bluntness. "That's a pretty... direct comment." But you can't help agreeing. "I like your lips too." And, without thinking much, you brush a strand of hair behind her ear. That gesture that should be cliché, but somehow, it fits.

You look at her, trying to guess what's going on in Chaeyoung's mind, who now has her eyes cast down, biting her lip, and you know the atmosphere is about to change.

"Do you... find me attractive?" The question comes out of nowhere, as if it escaped from the deepest corner of her mind. Her voice was a bit hesitant, but there was a raw honesty there. The kind of honesty you only find in children or in adults who've had more disappointments than they could count.

You stare at her, astonished, for two reasons. One, that she truly doesn't realize how attractive she is, and two, that the question seems to come loaded with a raw expectation of approval. "Of course you are," you say, with more certainty than you intended. "You're very attractive."

She blushes, and her fingers begin to nervously play with the fabric of her dress. "It's just... I've always wanted... you know... to experience that thing. And with you, the desire only grows," she admits, the words coming out in a nervous whisper. "I keep imagining all sorts of things... many things."

It's rare for you to be speechless, but here you are, completely disarmed by her confession. "I understand," you respond, trying to ignore the weight of it, but there's something in the way she looks at you, like she's trusting you with an immense secret, that makes your voice come out softer. And then, before the conversation can unravel, she rushes to continue:

"I don't want you to think I just... just see you like this, as if you're only... an object of desire , you know?" Her voice is a flurry of words, as if the mere act of speaking is the only way to keep from drowning in her insecurities. "I love everything about you - the way you care, the way you talk, the way you dress, your quirks... It's just-"

"Chae," you interrupt her with a smile, gently taking her hand. "It's okay. I get what you mean."

She seems relieved, but still a little lost, as if trying to realign her inner compass. You hold her hand more firmly, the warmth and firmness grounding her. "And if you want, if you feel comfortable... I don't see any problem with... well, us doing this."

The color deepens in Chaeyoung's cheeks, which seemed impossible, and she lets out a small sigh, almost as if absorbing the gravity of what you just said. "Do you think... it's not too fast?" Her voice is quieter now, more vulnerable. "I... I thought we'd only do this after, I don't know, getting married ." She laughs nervously.

You laugh too, the kind of laugh that makes the nervousness dissipate a little. "Married? That would take a long time." You lean in a little closer, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. "And honestly, it would be torture to wait that long, you know... with you being like this."

"Like what?" she asks, and there's genuine curiosity in her voice, almost childlike, as if she doesn't realize just how much Chaeyoung is... her.

"Like... you. So beautiful, so unique," you reply, your eyes locked on hers, hoping she understands that you truly believe this.

She looks away and murmurs, "I... I wouldn't be able to wait that long either." And then, with a kind of honesty that only Chaeyoung could muster, she adds, "Especially with you being so... hot."

You almost choke on the sincerity of her response, but before you can react, something inside you, perhaps an impulse you didn't even know you had, makes you act. With a sudden movement, you scoop her into your arms.

Chaeyoung lets out a small gasp of surprise, her arms wrapping around your neck. "W-what are you doing?" Her surprise is genuine, but there's a laugh hidden behind it.

"Taking you to the bedroom," you respond with a calm smile.

She looks at you, her face flushed and her eyes shining. "Are we... doing this now?"

"If you want," you say calmly.

Chaeyoung seems to reflect for a moment, but her eyes meet yours, and something shifts in her. "Yes," she murmurs, her voice soft but resolute. "I want to."

As you carry Chaeyoung to the bedroom, the rain continues to patter softly against the windows, as if providing the soundtrack to a scene even the gods of romantic comedies couldn't have predicted. When you lay her gently on the bed, you feel the weight of something larger than yourself approaching, a mix of desire and uncertainty that seems to hang in the air. But when your lips meet hers, all those thoughts simply... vanish.

She's warm, soft, and each kiss you share seems to last longer than the one before, as if time is slowing down, or maybe the rain outside is trying to set the pace.

You pull back for a moment, removing your shirt in a gesture you've probably done a million times, but to her, it seems incredibly unique, and Chaeyoung can't hide her surprise. Her eyes widen for a brief second before softening into something like admiration.

"Wow," she says, almost reverently, as if she's admiring a Renaissance masterpiece in a museum and not your body, which, to be honest, is far too generous a comparison, but let's go with it.

At that exact moment, your phone vibrates in your pocket, and for a second, the cruel and merciless universe reminds you of your friends' existence. You pull out your phone, read the messages - something like "so, did it work?" - and without thinking twice, you turn the device off.

"You... look so... sexy," Chaeyoung murmurs, then laughs a little, clearly fighting the shyness that's winning. "I've never... touched a man's bare chest before."

You smile slightly, moving closer again. "Then savor the moment," you say, and she hesitates before sliding her hands over your abdomen, her fingers exploring your skin with a shy curiosity, almost innocent. Her touch is light at first, but soon gains a bit more confidence.

Meanwhile, you kiss her neck, breathing in her sweet scent, and the way she shivers under your lips makes you lose yourself even more.

You begin to slide the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders, moving slowly, kissing every inch of exposed skin. When the dress reaches her waist, Chaeyoung, in a way that is both shy and determined, sits up slightly and pulls it off completely, letting it fall in a forgotten pile on the floor. Now, only in her panties and bra, she looks at you with wide, nervous eyes, as if waiting for your assessment.

And, of course, you can't hold back. "You're so beautiful, Chaeyoung." Your words are simple but carry a truth that, by the way she immediately blushes, impacts her more than any grand compliment ever could.

She looks away for a second, a shy smile playing on her lips. "I... I never thought that... anyone would think that." She shifts uncomfortably, but her discomfort only heightens her innocent charm.

You also stand, beginning to unbutton your pants, the sound of the buttons echoing almost like a beat amid the rain outside. "Lie down, Chaeyoung," you say softly, your voice gentle but firm.

She stays still for about three seconds before obeying, lying back on the bed, her body now completely surrendered to you, and to the moment that, suddenly, no longer seems so full of uncertainty.

Then, you gently spread Chae's legs in a way she didn't expect. Her eyes are fixed on the ceiling, but you notice the nervousness in her trembling fingers and the slight tapping of her feet. "It's okay," you whisper. She lets out a small laugh, the kind that only happens when someone is scared but wants to appear brave.

Kissing the inside of her thigh, you feel the shiver that runs through Chae's slender body. She can't hide the tension but says nothing, as if waiting for you to guide her through this unknown art. Your fingers glide against the thin fabric of her panties, and you feel the growing heat between her legs. "Relax," you say, even though you know relaxing is the last thing she's going to do right now.

When you slowly remove her panties, like you're unwrapping something fragile, Chae's scent fills the air. She holds her breath for a moment, and her eyes, once lost on the ceiling, now close. Vulnerable. You know she wants this, but you also know she has no idea what she's about to feel.

You move closer, gently running your fingers over her swollen lips, parting them slightly. Your mouth follows the touch of your fingers, but you don't go straight to the point. No, that would be too easy. Instead, you kiss around, intentional kisses, your tongue tracing paths on her sensitive skin. She lets out a soft moan, her hips trying to follow your mouth, but you don't let her dictate the pace.

With one last glance at her face - where her eyes are closed and her mouth is parted in a sigh - you finally touch her clitoris with the tip of your tongue. The reaction is immediate: a small jolt, a moan that echoes in the room, like her body was just switched on. You circle her clit slowly, alternating between soft and firmer licks, feeling the smooth texture under your tongue. Chaeyoung is starting to lose herself in the pleasure, and you know because her moans are getting louder, more insistent, her hips lifting off the bed in search of more.

"Mmm, p-please," she whispers, barely audible, as if she's afraid to ask for what she really wants. You answer her request, sucking on her clit more firmly as your fingers begin to explore deeper. You slide them inside her tight pussy slowly, while continuing to lick, feeling her body's response on your tongue. The warmth around your fingers, the pressure from her inner muscles that seem unwilling to let you go.

Tasting more of her with each new lick, your mouth becomes increasingly hungry, as if the only thing that matters in the world is how her body reacts to you. The heat radiating from between her legs is almost overwhelming, and her moans, once restrained, are growing louder, more desperate. She's no longer trying to hide anything.

She just wants more. Simply more.

You stop fingering her pussy for a moment, just to hold her thighs, your hands firm as you keep her legs open, which keep trying to close, your tongue sliding over her clit in quick, intense movements. Her taste is strong now, a mix of salt and desire that makes you want everything. You feel her body tremble, her hips moving against your mouth, seeking more contact, more pressure. She is completely surrendered.

“Mmm, please… don’t stop!” she moans, her voice shaky and almost sobbing. You laugh against her skin, the sound muffled between Chae's legs, and reply with a quick glance, your eyes fixed on her face, contorted in desire.

"Are you going to come for me, Chae?" you murmur, your voice husky as your fingers slide back inside her, filling her completely. She lets out an even louder moan, her body arching, her inner muscles tightening around her fingers. "Tell me, Chae... tell me what you want," you tease, your mouth not stopping, your tongue focused on her clit while your fingers penetrate her deeply, each movement a new shock of pleasure.

“I... I'm gonna... Oh my God! II can't..." she tries to speak, but the words are lost among the moans. She's on the edge, holding on by a thread, and you can feel it. She's struggling to maintain control, but she won't last much longer.

“Go ahead,” you whisper against her, sucking her clit harder now, your mouth fully covering it while your fingers continue relentlessly. “I want you to come. Now. In my mouth.”

It's all she needed to hear. With one last loud moan, almost a scream, her body completely loses control. Her hips lift off the bed, pressing your mouth against her pussy, as if trying to swallow you. Her taste explodes on your tongue, a hot, salty rush that you devour like a reward. Chaeyoung comes hard, her body trembling violently, each moan louder than the last until she's practically sobbing from the pleasure.

You don't stop. You keep sucking, drawing out every drop, as if you want to prolong the moment, wanting more of her, wanting to feel everything. "That's it, baby… Come more, " you murmur against her, your voice almost a growl. Her moans are wild now, completely out of control, and you know you've pushed her past a limit she never knew existed.

“Please, stop! Mmm, I c-can’t anymore!” she moans, her voice trembling, as if begging for mercy, but you can tell that part of her wants you to take her even deeper. Every part of her body tightens, surrenders, and you only stop when you feel she's completely exhausted, her muscles still pulsing around your fingers.

You move up her body, her taste still on your lips, your breath heavy. Chae's face is a beautiful mess of sweat, pleasure, and confusion, but you smile, knowing what comes next.

You love this part.

“Now,” you say in a low, almost commanding voice, “I want you to feel what I did.”

Before she can process what that means, you kiss her, deep and wet, your tongue slipping into her mouth, letting her taste herself. At first, she hesitates, but soon her moans turn into something new, something that mixes with the taste you just took from her. She kisses you back, hungry, and what started as vulnerability is slowly turning into something much more lustful, more intense, and carnal.

You trail kisses down Chae's body, every inch of her skin seems simply irresistible. Her breathing quickens as you descend, her hand brushing the sheets as if searching for something to hold onto, something stable. When you reach her small, delicate breasts, you slowly pull down her bra with deliberate slowness, exposing them as if standing before something precious. Your lips touch one of her nipples, soft at first, a light suction that makes her arch her body. A soft, trembling moan escapes Chae, and you feel her fingers tighten around the fabric of the bed.

“Are you enjoying it?” you murmur against her skin, your hand now playing with her other breast, fingers teasing, squeezing lightly.

She just nods, her eyes closed, lips parted as she whispers a faint “Yes, so much... Mmm, keep going...” barely audible. There's a vulnerability in her tone, something between desire and the fear of being completely consumed by it. You obey, sucking her nipple harder, her moans growing louder, more uncontrolled, as your other hand continues to explore.

But you don't want to rush anything.

You want every touch to be a memory, something she'll feel even after it's all over.

When you stop and stand to grab the condom from the nightstand, Chae looks confused for a second, her body shifting slightly, as if sensing the absence of your touch. You pull off your boxers, the cool air brushing your skin, and her expression changes. Chae's eyes, once full of nerves, now sparkle with something different, something curious.

She watches in silence as she takes off her bra, almost mesmerized, while you put on the condom. There's something intense in that moment, in her silent admiration, like she's processing everything at once.

“I'll go slow,” you say, kneeling back on the bed, gently lifting her legs around your waist. “If it hurts too much, let me know, okay?”

Chae bites her lip and nodes, her eyes locked on yours. “I trust you... just... take it easy.”

You position yourself, the tip of your cock touching her entrance, warm and tight. The moment stretches, the air heavy between you. Slowly, you begin to push in, and the sound she makes is a mix between a moan and a sigh. The sensation is intense, her tightness almost painfully constricting. You move forward slowly, every inch feels like a battle against her body, which gradually adjusts and gives way, millimeter by millimeter.

Chae bites her lip hard, her face flushed, her hands gripping her arms as if seeking something to hold onto. “Are you okay, baby?” you ask, pausing for a moment, noticing the slight tremble in her lips.

She nods, her voice is soft and hesitant. “Yeah... I'm okay. It’s just… it’s too big.”

You smile gently, wanting to reassure her. “I'll go slow, I promise.” And with that, you start moving again, pushing in slowly until you're fully inside her. Chae lets out a long moan, her eyes tightly shut. She's so tight that every movement feels like a challenge, but you hold back, maintaining control.

Then, as you pull out slightly, you notice a small trace of blood. Her hymen had broken. “Chae,” you say, your voice filled with concern. “There's a bit of blood... how are you feeling?”

She opens her eyes, still flushed, breathing heavily. “I'm... I'm okay. It's just... strange... but... it feels good too...”

You watch her for a moment, searching for any signs of discomfort beyond what she admits. Then you continue, moving a little faster, a little deeper, and her moans start to shift in tone, the pain slowly giving way to pleasure. With each thrust, you feel her body adjusting, relaxing, the initial resistance fading away.

“Fuck, you're so tight,” you whisper as you keep thrusting into her.

You lean over her, her body trembling beneath you, her small breasts pressed against your chest. Her skin is warm, sweaty, and you can feel every shaky breath she exhales as you move inside her. Your cock slides deep, her tightness gripping you like a vice. She lets out a loud moan, her arms wrapping around your neck, her legs tightening around your hips, holding you as if afraid to let go.

“Do you like it, Chae?” you ask, your voice low and rough in her ear. You can feel her heart racing, and it only makes you want more.

She tries to answer, but everything that comes out is a moan, a broken sound of pleasure. You smile against her neck, kissing the delicate skin, tasting her sweat. “Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you're feeling.”

“Fuck, y-you're driving me crazy...” she manages to mutter, her voice cracking as you thrust deep, each stroke making her arch against the bed. “I've... I've never felt anything like this.”

You kiss her neck, sucking the sensitive skin, leaving marks that will last. “Your pussy's so wet,” you murmur against her skin, lightly biting her earlobe. “Feels like your body was made for this... for me .”

Chae lets out a high-pitched moan, her hips trying to match your rhythm, but you're in control. You thrust deeper, harder, feeling her body write with each push. “Do you feel how deep I am inside you? My thick, hard cock filling every inch of your pussy.”

She can only moan in response, her fingers digging into your back, scratching the skin as pleasure overwhelms her. And you love this, love seeing this beautiful, naïve, innocent girl lose all control because of you. It's like you're sculpting every sensation, molding her pleasure to your will. And the fact that it's her first time only makes it more addictive.

“You sound so sexy, moaning in my ear while I fuck you… Tell me, Chae, do you want more?” you ask, your voice dirtier now, and she nods frantically, her eyes squeezed shut, her face flushed with both shame and excitement.

“Yes, please... don't stop!” she begs, her voice cracking as you continue to fuck her. “You fuck me so good!”

You pick up the pace, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing in the room. Your cock slides deep, as deep as you can go in this position, and she lets out a loud, desperate moan. “You like it like this, huh? Getting fucked hard, knowing how much I'm loving fucking this virgin pussy!”

Chae writhes beneath you, her moans growing louder, faster.

She’s losing herself, another orgasm is close.

And you’re going to take it from her.

“Now let’s lie on our side, princess,” you say with a final kiss.

You turn her over carefully. She obeys, her body already limp, fully surrendered to you. Now, you position yourself behind her, your bodies aligned, so close that you can feel every breath she takes, every nervous twitch.

“Yeah, like this, Chae…” you murmur in her ear, a filthy undertone hidden in the words. With one hand, you guide your cock back inside her, the tight, wet sensation making both of you moan at the same time. Your hand now slides slowly down her side, feeling the warmth of her sweaty skin, the uneven rhythm of her breathing.

“You like this, don’t you?” you tease, your voice low, as you continue to thrust slowly, each stroke deep and calculated. Chaeyoung responds with a loud moan, her eyes closed, head tilting back, resting on your shoulder.

“Y-yes, yes! I love it…” Her voice trembles with each word, as if the pleasure is making it difficult to even think. The raspy sound of every moan only spurs you to go deeper.

You kiss her slender shoulder, your hand moving up the curve of her waist to her breasts. Her skin is hot and slick with sweat, her entire body vibrating with the intensity of the experience. Your fingers squeeze one of her breasts, firm enough to elicit another moan from Chaeyoung, who begins to move, her hips pushing back against you, craving more.

“Ohhh, that feels so good! Harder…” she begs, almost breathless, her voice cracking with need. And you comply, the thrusts becoming faster, more intense, the rhythm of your bodies crashing together, primal and instinctive.

“You’re so tight, Chae… you’re driving me crazy…” you whisper, your mouth moving from her shoulder to her neck, sucking and nibbling softly as you keep thrusting deeply. She moans louder, her nails digging into the sheets.

“The first time… I never imagined it would be like this…” she murmurs between moans, her voice almost fading, as if she’s on the verge of losing her ability to speak. “It feels so good… so… Oh, you fuck me so well!”

You chuckle softly, satisfied. “You’ll remember your first fuck forever, Chae... You’ll remember how I made you come.”

And somehow, that ignites something inside her.

You feel Chae’s body start to writhe, her moans growing louder, more desperate. She’s close, you can tell. The hand that was on her breast now slides slowly down her body, and without warning, you grasp Chae’s slender neck, your fingers wrapping around it firmly, just enough to show her the control you have over her.

She gasps, her eyes widening in surprise, and her body responds immediately, arching against you, tightening around your cock. “You like this, don’t you, Chae?” your voice comes out hoarse, and she answers with a moan, the most primal sound you’ve ever heard.

“Y-yes, fuck!... yes, I… I love it!” She can barely form the words, her moans mixing with her ragged breaths. And it only makes you hungrier, more eager to push her beyond her limits.

You pick up the pace, thrusting harder, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the room, and you squeeze her neck a little tighter, feeling her shudder under your touch. “Tell me, baby… Tell me what you want.”

She’s panting, her whole body drenched in sweat, her eyes shut. “More… please… Fuck me faster… harder…” Her voice breaks between the pleas, her moans becoming nearly screams of pleasure. “Fuck my pussy good, make me your little slut!”

“Like this?” you ask, and before she can respond, you obey, pounding into her with even more intensity, your cock driving into her with such force that Chae’s body slams against you, nearly folding under the impact.

“Ahhh… yes! Like that! Fuck… keep going, don’t stop!” She’s losing herself, her body responding instinctively to the pleasure, and Chae’s face twists, her eyes rolling back as you fuck her relentlessly. “I-I’m yours, baby… all yours! Fuck me harder!”

You pull her body closer, your fingers still gripping her neck, controlling every movement as you continue to pound deep, without pause. “You’re becoming such a dirty little girl, Chae. A slut who loves my cock!”

She bites her lip hard, her eyes barely open enough to meet yours. “Yes! I’m… I’m your slut… please, don’t stop… make me come again!”

You fuck her even faster, your hand tightening on her neck, dominating her completely. Each thrust is harder, deeper, until her body starts to tremble again, her moans growing louder, more intense.

“You’re going to come again, aren’t you?” you murmur, your face close to her ear, your breath hot against her skin. “You love coming on my cock, don’t you, Chae? Such a dirty slut! I want to feel you come… now!”

And that pushes her over the edge.

Her body explodes against you, writhing, trembling, and she screams as the orgasm overtakes her. “Ahhh… fuck… I'm cumming … I'm… ahhh!” The pleasure ripples through her like an electric shock, her muscles squeezing your cock so tight you can barely hold back.

You keep fucking her as she comes, drawing out her orgasm, her moans oscillating between pleasure and despair. “Yeah, that’s it, Chae… come for me… come on my cock, baby.” And she does, her whole body shaking, completely surrendered to the pleasure you’ve taught her to feel, until the tremors slowly subside, and she’s completely spent, her body limp in your arms, breathing heavily.

But you’re not done yet.

You feel Chae’s body still trembling in your arms, but you don’t give her even a second to rest. You lift her from the bed with a near predatory strength, your arms wrapping around her slim, delicate waist, and in one firm motion, you hoist her into the air, her legs instinctively wrapping around you. The look on Chaeyoung’s face is a mix of surprise and pure lust, her pupils blown wide, her body molding to yours as you hold her aloft.

“You’re going to fuck me like this?” she asks, her voice shaky, almost disbelieving, but clearly begging for more.

“Yes, like this,” you reply with a lascivious smile, positioning her so your cock slips back inside her. Her weight only amplifies the intensity of each thrust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mixed with Chae’s high-pitched moans and your heavy breathing. Her body rises and falls, her arms wrapped around your neck, her legs clinging tightly to your waist.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” you ask, your lips brushing her ear, your hot breath making her shiver. She’s completely vulnerable, surrendered, and the feeling of power only drives you deeper into this lust.

“Yes… yes… more…” Chaeyoung whispers between moans, nearly crying from the overwhelming pleasure. “It feels so good… please… don’t stop…”

The way she says it, with so much need, with so much desperation, only drives you further. You fuck her harder, the intensity of each thrust ripping short cries of pleasure from her. She can’t control the sounds escaping her throat, and you know she’s loving every second, loving the way she’s being taken by you, losing her virginity in a way she never imagined.

You fuck her mid-air with almost animalistic force, your hands firmly gripping her slender waist, guiding her movements. Your lips meet hers with urgency, a wet, clumsy, heated kiss. Her tongue searches for yours with desperate hunger, and you respond, exploring her mouth as you keep thrusting deep, each move making her moan louder than the last.

“Can you feel my cock being shoved deep into your tight little pussy?” you murmur between kisses, your voice low and hoarse, sweat dripping down your body as pleasure begins to blur into exhaustion.

“Yeah!! Please… don’t stop!” Chaeyoung practically begs, her voice thin, loaded with desire. Every word she speaks is a breathy gasp, her eyes half-closed like she’s lost in a storm of pleasure.

“Look at you... so submissive... clinging to me like your life depends on it,” you tease, nibbling her earlobe as you fuck her even harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin is loud, dirty, and her body moves wildly with each thrust.

“I-I love it! I love being yours!” Chae confesses, her eyes fully closed, her body trembling as you feel the spasms tightening around your cock. “Fuck me more... dominate me... use me however you want!”

Her filthy words make you lose any remaining control. Your mouth trails down her neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks, to remind her later of how you claimed her that night.

“You want more? Want me to fuck you until you forget your own name?” you whisper against her sweaty skin.

“Yes, baby! Yes… I want it,” Chae moans, her lips trembling as pleasure overtakes her.

You feel the heat rising, the climax almost at the door, and in one quick, rough motion, you sit up on the bed, Chaeyoung on your lap. “Then ride me,” you command, your voice raspy and authoritative, locking eyes with her.

She hesitates for only a second before letting out a low moan and beginning to move. Her legs trembling, she adjusts herself on top of you, your cock slipping back inside her. Her hands rest on your shoulders as she starts to ride, her breathing heavy, each movement eliciting short, sharp moans.

“That’s it, like that! Faster, Chae,” you urge, your hands gripping her waist, helping her keep pace. Her body moves up and down, each motion driving you deeper inside her, each moan louder, more desperate. “You’re so fucking tight… so good… I won’t last much longer, baby,” you warn, your eyes narrowing as you watch her face contort with pleasure, her lips parted, eyebrows arched in pure ecstasy.

“I want you to cum…” Chae responds, her voice barely audible from how breathless she is. “Please cum for me… I want all your hot cum in me.”

You grip her slender waist tighter, your fingers digging into her warm, soft skin, guiding her firmly, demanding more.

“Come on, Chae, I’m almost there... Faster,” you command. “I want to feel you really fuck me.”

Chae bites her lip, her messy hair falling over her shoulders as she tries to speed up, her legs trembling with the effort. With every move, her body sinks deeper onto you, drawing sharp, desperate moans from her. Your fingers dig even harder into her waist, guiding her, controlling the rhythm, forcing her to go faster than her body was prepared for. She has no choice but to follow your lead, her entire body surrendering to this frenzy.

“Your pussy is so wet, Chae, fuck…” you groan through clenched teeth, pulling her closer until your bodies are pressed together. “Can you feel how hard you’re making me? How much horny you're driving me?!”

“I... I feel everything,” Chae responds between moans, her voice breaking from the overwhelming pleasure. “I can’t... I can’t stop... it feels so good...” She keeps grinding on top of you, her movements faster, more intense. Sweat drips down her body, shining under the soft light of the room, and you get lost in the sight of her - her face twisted in uncontrollable pleasure, her legs shaking as she struggles to keep up the pace.

Without warning, you lean forward and capture one of her small breasts in your mouth, sucking hard. The taste of her skin is salty with sweat, but addictive. You suck her nipple intensely, your tongue playing, teasing, while one hand moves to the other breast, squeezing, tugging, teasing the sensitive nipple.

“Oh, fuck!” Chae cries out, her body shuddering violently from the impact of your lips on her breasts. “Please... Please, don’t sto- Oh god! I love your mouth on my breast!!” She throws her head back, her hands digging into your shoulders as you keep her moving, riding faster than ever.

You suck harder, your teeth grazing lightly, making her moan even louder. Each thrust she makes over you brings you closer to the edge, and the feel of her trembling body, mixed with the taste and texture of her delicate skin, makes you lose all control. Your fingers keep gripping her hips, guiding her with a speed she can barely keep up with.

“Come on, Chae... faster... ride me hard!” you growl, your teeth still around her nipple, your eyes half-closed in pleasure.

“I... can’t...” she moans, her eyes filled with pleasure and desperation, but even so, she tries. Her hips rise and fall faster, her movements nearly frantic as she tries to push you over the edge.

“Yes, you can,” you whisper with a wicked smile, your hand sliding down her sweaty back to grab her ass, pulling her down hard each time she rises. “And you’re loving every second... look at you, so obedient... so submissive...”

“I am... I love it! Fuck, I never thought it would feel this good!” Chae can barely speak between moans, her body now practically convulsing with pleasure. “Fuck me... fuck me more, baby... please!”

You continue to suck her, switching breasts, leaving the other one equally sensitive and swollen, while your hands squeeze her ass.

“You’re going to cum again, aren’t you?” you tease, your tone cruel, feeling her on the verge of losing control.

“Yes... yes... I’m going to cum... again... I can’t take it anymore...” Chae cries out, her face contorted with pure pleasure, and you can feel the spasms starting to tighten around your cock. Each of her movements becomes uncoordinated, but that only brings you closer to your own climax. Her body contracts and explodes into a devastating orgasm, her moans loud and uncontrollable, her hips nearly frozen as she’s overtaken by the overwhelming pleasure.

You don’t stop, even as she trembles beneath you, her moans turning into sobs from the accumulated pleasure.

“You know what’s the best part?” you say between ragged breaths, your mouth close to her neck, kissing gently. “You’ll never forget this… how I made you cum so many times.”

Chaeyoung responds with a long moan, her body completely surrendered to you. “I know... I want you to fuck me like this... every day.”

You continue to move her hips slowly, as she’s too weak to do it herself. Each thrust inside her takes you closer, the tight heat of Chae’s body making you lose control. “I’m almost there... where do you want me to cum, Chae?

She hesitates for a second, then timidly murmurs, “On my face, sweetie.. please, cum on my face.”

The way she says it, with that soft, almost innocent voice, is enough to push you to the edge. You feel the lust explode inside you, and the image of Chae’s delicate face covered in your thick cum only heightens your desire.

“Fuck, baby, you're such a naughty girl,” you tease, your voice deep, filthy, as you keep moving her trembling body against yours. “You want me to cum all over your pretty little face, huh?”

Chaeyoung just nods, unable to form words, her moans now almost whispers. “Yes, baby, please... please...” She’s nearly crying from so much pleasure, her body completely at your mercy.

“Then get on your knees for me. I’m gonna cover your face with my thick load.”

Chaeyoung slowly slides off your lap, carefully kneeling on the floor, still trying to regain control of her trembling legs. Her eyes are fixed on you, wide and full of anticipation.

You take off the condom, your breathing fast and uneven, and she immediately wraps her lips around your cock, sucking with such intensity that it almost makes you lose balance. Her taste is still on your dick, and she seems to savor it, her eyes closed, her tongue’s movements deliberate, slow.

“Suck more… Yeah, just like that, baby,” you groan, your fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her as she obeys, sucking with an almost insatiable hunger.

You feel your climax approaching, control slipping away with each passing second. Chae's body is kneeling in front of you, her wide eyes full of anticipation, fixed on you as if she's ready to receive something precious. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her breath heavy, mingled with the palpable excitement in the air. You can’t hold back any longer.

"Are you ready, Chae?" you ask, your voice hoarse, your body trembling with tension as you grip your cock, holding it tight at the base.

She nods quickly, her eyes shining with desire. "Yes... yes... I want your cum on my face." Her voice carries a shy, exciting tone, and it only makes your need grow. You start jerking yourself harder, your cock throbbing in your hand. "Cover my face with your hot cum, baby!"

Those dirty words, spilling from such a delicate mouth, make your cock twitch in anticipation. "Fuck, I'm so horny!!" you growl, holding the base of your cock and pointing it directly at her face.

"Yes... make me filthy... I've always wanted to feel this," Chaeyoung replies.

You can’t hold back anymore. "Fuck, I’m cumming, Chae!" you say through gritted teeth as the pleasure builds to a breaking point.

She can only whisper, "Yeah, please, cum-" before the first spurt hits her cheek directly. Chae gasps, but doesn’t look away. Your fingers continue moving quickly at the base of your cock, another thick shot hitting her other cheek, chin, and a little bit of her forehead.

“Oooh! Yeeaah! Mmm, that’s so fucking good,” you moan, overcome with pleasure. "You look so beautiful covered in my cum,” you groan. “I knew you’d love this… look at you, all messy.”

Holding the base of your still hard, throbbing cock, you guide it toward Chae’s face. Her body is completely surrendered, panting, her eyes half-closed, a lazy smile of satisfaction forming on her lips.

“Look at me,” you command, as the tip of your cock touches her cheek, spreading the remnants of your cum across her delicate skin. Chaeyoung obeys, lifting her face with a gaze filled with adoration and bliss. You begin brushing your cock against her face, slowly, savoring the warm, sticky sensation.

The remaining cum smears and glistens on her skin under the soft bedroom light. First her cheek, then you move to her mouth, tapping your cock lightly against her lips. Without hesitation, she opens her mouth slightly, running her tongue lightly over the tip. Just seeing her, dirty and submissive, sends another wave of pleasure through your body.

“Tell me how much you're enjoying this,” you tease, the tip of your cock tracing her chin, spreading your cum over every inch it can reach.

Chaeyoung only moans, a low, satisfied sound, moving her face to meet each brush of your cock as if wanting more. “I'm… loving it,” she murmurs, her voice broken with desire, eyes closing again as your cock glides over her forehead, leaving a trail of cum. “I love being yours… your dirty little slut.”

“This is what you wanted? To be like this, all marked by me?” you ask with a wicked smile, leaning forward to rub your cock against the tip of her nose, dirtying her even more.

“Yes...” Chaeyoung whispers, her tongue trying to reach the head of your cock again. “You're making me feel so slutty.”

The way she speaks, the devotion in her voice, just makes you want to keep going. You cover her completely, your cock painting her face with cum, the sides of her mouth, her eyes, everywhere. And each time you touch her, Chaeyoung seems to enjoy it even more, her eyes closed, as if she’s in pure ecstasy from being covered in your cum.

Chae licks her lips, savoring what’s left of your cum, her gaze locked on you, more lustful than ever. “I want more, baby…” she whispers, her shy tone now replaced by something more primal. She leans forward, and without hesitation, closes her lips around the head of your cock again, sucking with a pressure that makes you see stars.

“Fuck, Chae! Fuck…” you moan loudly, your body arching involuntarily as she sucks slowly, each of her movements intentional, prolonging your pleasure as the last spasms of orgasm ripple through you. She plays with her tongue around the head, exploring, savoring, while her hands softly caress your balls.

“Your cock tastes so good,” Chaeyoung murmurs, and then her lips press back against your cock. “I like making you lose control like this,” she says with a small smile.

She gives another slow lick before releasing your cock with a wet pop, her eyes rising to meet yours, her cheeks and chin still gleaming with your cum. You can hardly believe the sight before you: Chaeyoung, your awkward workmate, covered in your cum, satisfied, with a new confidence shining through her former shyness.

“Wow, Chae… you're beautiful like this… Seriously, so beautiful,” you say breathlessly, the words escaping as an admiring whisper.

Chae lowers her eyes, a small, embarrassed smile playing on her lips, but there's pride in the way she wipes the corner of her mouth with her hand. “D-did I do it right?” she asks softly.

“Fuck, you have no idea.”

—

The hot water falls like a liquid curtain, each drop seems to soften the moment, making your touch even more intimate. You're gently soaping her shoulder with a tenderness that can only come from that strange mix of desire and affection now hanging between you. Chaeyoung is quiet, which, you note with some surprise, is a rarity. Maybe she's still processing what just happened. You decide to break the silence because, frankly, the idea of stillness while sharing the same space with her feels strange.

“So... was it everything you expected?”

She lifts her head, blinking as if she's just emerged from a dream. And in a way, you think that's exactly what's happening. A slow, wide smile spreads across her face. “It was better ,” she says, with a restrained enthusiasm that would melt anyone's heart. “I... I never thought it'd be like this. I mean, I always imagined it would be good, but not this good.” She giggles, a giggle that starts shy but bursts into full laughter. “You're really perfect!”

This word again.

You feel the blush rise to your face, and it's not just from the hot steam. Perfect is too strong of a word for you; Honestly, it's too strong of a word for anyone. "Me? Perfect? I don't know if I'd say that.”

She hugs you suddenly, her wet arms wrapping tightly around your chest, as if she's making sure you won't disappear like a soap bubble. “I'm serious,” she murmurs against your skin, her voice muffled but full of sincerity. “The way you made me feel... I never... never imagined it. Three times, do you know? How is that even possible?” She laughs again, this time with a slightly mischievous glitter in her eyes. “It was so intense. But now, you're being so gentle with me. You're not just amazing in bed, you're amazing outside of it too.”

The mention of “three times” makes you smile.

Okay, you're a little proud, not going to lie.

But what strikes you the most is the way she talks about you, like you're some kind of medieval knight who rescued not a damsel in distress, but a damsel who didn't even realize she was venturing into unknown territory.

“I just wanted you to feel good,” you say, not really sure where to put your hands, despite them being occupied with her. “And I also... felt really good, Chaeyoung. It was special.”

She looks at you with those big eyes, as if the whole world is contained within the four walls of the bathroom. “I feel so lucky to have found you,” she says, her tone pure reverence. “It's so perfect it feels like a dream. I guess that's why I feel this need to hug you, to make sure you're real."

“Someone like me? Chaeyoung, you're amazing... And adorable. I'm nothing like that, I'm just a man.” She makes a doubtful face, but you continue. “I mean it. You have this... this thing that no one else has. You're genuine, do you know? No filters. It's rare to find someone like that. I'm the lucky one to have you here with me.”

She blushes, the steam from the shower intensifying the pink glow on her cheeks. “Do you really think that?”

“Absolutely,” you reply, without hesitation. “You know, maybe it took me a while to realize it... but yeah.”

She smiles shyly, that smile that suggests a mix of insecurity and hope. “I... I know I'm a bit weird. But I'm so happy that you like me like this, that you are not ashamed of me. I w-want to be with you.. I want to be with you forever!”

And it's at that moment that you feel the weight of those words.

Forever.

You know how amazing emotional that sounds. The idea of "forever" should make you back away, fill you with panic. But... it doesn't. Strangely, you don't feel that natural and immediate urge to run when a girl you barely know says something like that.

You look at her and, in that instant, accomplish something. Maybe that stupid prank your friends pulled on you dragged you into something you would've never chosen on your own. But, and here's the irony of fate, now it doesn't seem like a bad thing. Maybe, behind all the laughter and the initial confusion, something genuinely good has emerged.

You smile at her, a smile that starts light but turns into something bigger, something real. “You know, Chaeyoung... I think this whole thing... this mess... maybe it's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time.”

She blinks, a little confused, but the smile never leaves her face. “What? What mess?”

You laugh, this time with genuine lightness. Of course, she has no idea what you're talking about. “It's hard to explain. But you... I think you're exactly what I needed.”

“We're like... you know what?" She leans in to give you a kiss. "Like ice cream and fries!"

You raise an eyebrow.

“Ice cream and fries?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Two things you wouldn't think go together, but when they do... it's perfect. Sweet and salty. Hot and cold. Like us.”

“Ice cream and fries, huh? I guess it makes sense... in a very Chaeyoung way of seeing things.”

“Exactly!” She pulls back a bit to look at you, her face lit up by a smile. “Maybe some people would say we're an unusual couple. But you know what's unusual? It's that these strange combinations end up being the best ones.”

Now you lean in, kissing her lightly on the lips. “You know what? That makes total sense.”

When you finally leave the bathroom and get dressed, the rain outside still taps against the window, rhythmic, like a reminder that the world keeps spinning. Chaeyoung puts on her pajamas - the ones she brought to "take care" of you - and, with a satisfied expression, throws herself onto the bed with a carefree joy.

You sit beside her, admiring her for a moment.

“Now,” she says, with that sudden excitement you're starting to recognize as her trademark, “we should watch Garfield! After all, you promised, remember?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

Of course she'd remember.

“Alright. Let's watch Garfield.”

[windybluebelles]

I don’t think, as a fandom, we have utilitiesed the concept of immortal Alfred along side the Fawcett time bubble.

Now, I know for a fact that it’s canon Alfred is not immortal and has infact died, I also just don’t give a shit

I’m also fairly sure that time bubble fawcett has never been canon (atleast in the way that I picture it) , and at the very least isn’t anymore, I still don’t care.

Just picture, Itty Bitty Billy Batson (orphan whos entire support system from when he was younger is just entirely gone) hears a familiar voice coming through Batman’s personal comms, and just kinda thinks,

Holy Shit that’s Uncle Al

Now he’s obviously very confused, last time he heard anything about his Uncle Al was approximately in like 1954, and he was around the same age as his parents who I imagine couldn’t be any younger than like 30. So how tf is he not brain dead and being fed through a tube by now? (I’m sure there are some very functional 90 year olds but like… what are the chances?)

I imagine that Billy would eventually figure out that Alfred works for the Wayne family in Gotham (I also imagine that he now vaguely know Batman’s identity but he’s also like 12 so why would he care?) and finds a way to get there as soon as possible.

I’m picturing just like, Tim or someone opening the door to this tiny little boy whos holding a box full of pictures and letters and is politely asking if he can ‘Speak with uncle-err, Mr Pennyworth?’

[schilders]

crave you | one of your innocent late-night visits to welt turns into something more.

welt yang x reader (fem) 4.4k words / ao3 content: fluff and smut ig, fluffy smut? it's soft, age difference, reader is in her 20s, late night visit, sleepy cuddles, wet dream, fingering, praise kink, vaginal sex, creampie, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cock warming, pet names, inappropriate use of mr. yang, reader is not trailblazer if that wasn't obvious note: idk how to write smut anymore, idk if he's ooc i haven't played since the end of penacony and only ever logged back in for sunday lol

“Mr. Yang?” Your hand lifts, knuckles softly rapping against the door. A part of you felt bad for coming to him this late. What if he was already sleeping and you woke him up? He wouldn’t be upset with you, would he? Or what if he turned you away? You’re interrupted from your thoughts when his door opens, the very man you were thinking about standing right in front of you.

“Hi,” you say softly, taking in his appearance. He was wearing a soft brown sweater and gray sweatpants. His hair was slightly messy, and his glasses sat a bit too far down his nose, but he looked perfect. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Shaking his head, Welt steps aside to let you in. “No, I was just up doing some reading. Like always.” He chuckles. 

“Oh,” you say softly, stepping into his room. It looked the same as always, though the lights were dimmed, and only a simple lamp placed on a small table by the chair in the corner remained on.

You wait for him to close the door behind him, then step to the side. Your gaze follows him as he moves back to the chair, taking a seat before he beckons you over with a small smile.

Biting your lip, you try to contain your smile as you make your way over to him. When he opens his arms for you, you crawl into his lap, thighs on either side of his hips, while your arms wrap around his waist. And finally, you finish getting comfortable by resting your head against his chest, his heartbeat already lulling you to sleep.

He chuckles softly when he hears you let out a content sigh. Giving your side a soft squeeze, he settles back in.

This is how it went most nights. You’d wait for everyone on the express to go to sleep before finding your way to Welt’s room.

You don’t remember how it all started, you think it was one night in the parlor car when you sat beside him as he read. He didn’t stay up late that night, but you enjoyed being in his presence, and he had no problem with your company.

Now, how it got to you spending nearly every night in his lap, you have no idea. Maybe when you had fallen sick that one time. . .?

Regardless, it became routine for the two of you to end up like this. You would even spend a few hours sleeping in his bed on rare occasions.

Did you have a crush on Mr. Yang?

Sure.

But your nightly routine had nothing to do with it. Err, at least you don’t think it does. You’re not even sure if you harbored feelings for the older man before this began. Plus, you’re sure he has no interest in you, so it’ll probably just live on as a small crush.

“You must be rather tired tonight. . .” he murmurs, smoothing a hand down your back, causing you to nestle deeper into his hold.

“Mhm.”

“Couldn’t sleep without me?” And you don’t know if it’s the teasing lilt to his voice or the shorts you wore, but a shiver makes its way up your spine.

You press in closer, fingers grasping the back of his sweater, twisting into the fabric. “. . .no,” you answer after a quiet moment. You felt a tad bit of embarrassment, your body growing warm the longer you stayed on this topic.

“Well, that’s alright.” He reassures you, fingers slipping underneath the back of your shirt, warm palm tracing up your spine. “Sometimes I can’t sleep without you either.”

Stifling a gasp, your eyes shoot open, lashes fluttering rapidly as you blink away the bit of sleep that has begun to take over. “Really?” Your voice is quiet as you ask this, not wanting to disturb the silence that had fallen over you two.

“Mhm,” he hums low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your ear. “I guess I’ve gotten used to you being in here with me that it’s odd when you’re not.”

A whimper, the sound small, slips through your lips, and you’re not sure if he heard it, but if he did, he hasn’t said anything.

“Mr. Yang.”

He can’t help but laugh at the way you say his name, fingers dancing along your spine. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking your head, you say nothing, a soft sigh leaving you as you snuggle back into his chest. Your arms squeeze his waist a little tighter, and he makes no complaints, content with tracing patterns into your skin.

You’re more tired than you thought, eyes heavy as you drift off, the sound of Welt’s heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs. It’s the last thing you hear before sleep completely takes you.

Welt gives it an hour before he makes the move.

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you before standing from the chair. He’s light on his feet as he maneuvers his way toward the bed. Your legs instinctively wrap tighter around him, and he huffs out a laugh when he has to untangle your limbs from around him.

“Forgive me,” he apologizes when he gently places you on what you both consider to be your side of the bed.

When he’s sure you’re all comfortable, he slowly pulls back, running the back of his knuckles across the apple of your cheek. Pulling back, he grabs the throw at the end of the bed and places it over your sleeping form.

“Alright then,” he says softly, retrieving his book from the table before making his way over to the other side of the bed. He adjusts the pillows before getting in, resting his back against the headboard. Crossing one leg over the other, he glances at you once more before settling in with his book.

He could’ve stayed in the chair, but he knows you like being with him when you sleep, and he didn’t mind. He likes being close to you, too.

Another hour goes by, and Welt’s nearing the end of his book, the quiet sounds of a page being turned filling the room.

Beside him, you curl up close to his side; it seems even in your sleep you need to be next to him. As close as possible.

A soft whimper catches his attention, eyes glancing over at your sleeping form. His brows furrow as he watches you shift beneath the blanket like you are uncomfortable.

A whisper of your name, and then he’s putting his book down, bringing a hand up to brush against your cheek. Instinctively, you lean into the touch, pressing in closer to his side. He’s watching your face intently, stroking along your flesh as he waits. And then it happens again, this time a whimper of his name.

“Mr. Yang.”

Swallowing thickly, his hand trails down your cheek and to your neck, feeling your pulse beneath his fingers. He contemplates waking you up, but then he doesn’t know how he’d explain why he did. Reluctantly, he decides to wake you, hand lifting back to your face, thumb tracing your lower lip.

“Hey,” he calls out softly, smoothing over the apple of your cheek, applying light pressure before he says your name. “I need you to wake up, sweetheart.”

You stir slightly, and he calls out to you once more, a smile playing on his lips when your lashes flutter, immediately seeking him out with your eyes. “Mr. Yang. . .?”

“Did you sleep well?” He wants to ask what you were dreaming about, but he’d save it for a moment later.

Nodding, you sit up and rub at your eyes, your shirt having ridden up, exposing part of your stomach. “Yeah. How long did I sleep?”

“About an hour,” he tells you, reaching out to cup your face, his smile growing wider when you lean into the touch. “So not very long.”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him in confusion, wondering why he woke you up so early. And he swallows hard, throat growing tight knowing he’d have to explain to you why he woke you up when did.

“Why?”

It’s all you ask, and Welt’s hand drops from your face, digging into the soft blanket below. He takes the time to really look at you—the way sleep still clings to you, eyes half-lidded, lips slightly swollen—and to him, you still look beautiful.

“You were dreaming,” he says, not elaborating.

“What. . .?

“What were you dreaming about?”

“I don’t—” It takes you a moment, and he watches with bated breath as the cogs in your head turn, and then he sees it. The way your eyes widen slightly, lips parting as if you want to say something but are unable to find the words. “Oh.”

Heat creeps up your neck, licking at your ears while you avoid his gaze. But he seems to be having none of that, a hand reaching out to you once more, gripping your chin as if asking silently for you to look at him.

“Hey.”

Licking your lips, you hesitantly drag your gaze back to meet his, and the look in his eyes—tender, yet so intense—has you gasping.

“It’s okay.”

“I. . .” You lick your lips again, fingers twisting into the fabric of your shorts, as you mentally hype yourself up to tell him that you were dreaming about him fucking you. Jeez, how were you ever expected to tell him this? “You. I was dreaming about you.”

“Yeah?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer, his thumb finding your lip again, pressing into it softly, leaving you gasping. “What about?”

And that intense look in his eye never wavers, and it has you wanting to spill your very guts out to this man—

“We were having sex.”

There it is.

Welt’s gaze darkens, and you have to stop yourself from clenching your eyes shut, not really wanting to face him after your admission.

He doesn’t look away, hand tracing down to your jaw, his touch slow. “Is that right?” he murmurs, there’s something heavy in his voice, something keeping you rooted to your spot.

His free hand comes up to grip your waist, gently guiding you back against the bed. You allow him to. The bed dips beneath his weight as he leans over you, situating himself between your thighs, both hands smoothing down your sides.

“Yes.” You answer his earlier question, your voice small.

“Tell me,” he says, hands sliding lower, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, just resting there, waiting for you to give him the go-ahead. “Tell me exactly what we were doing.”

A breath leaves you, hands moving on their own accord as you rest them over his, squeezing where his fingers grip your shorts. “Please.”

Welt’s hands tighten, knuckles turning white, and he pulls your shorts down, moving long enough to get them down your legs before he’s between your spread thighs once more. “So pretty,” he murmurs, large hands sliding up from your knee to the tops of your thighs, a shiver running up your spine.

You swallow hard, the sound almost deafening, throat suddenly feeling dry. “Mr. Yang. . .”

“Tell me.” He repeats.

“Y-you. . .” Another shiver hits you, hands balling into fists by your sides. “Can I. . .” Licking your lips, you grab at one of his hands, bringing it between your legs. “Can I show you instead?”

Welt nods, fingers twitching where they rest against the soft flesh of your inner thighs. With a shaky breath, you bring your free hand up to join the other long enough to hook into the seat of your panties, catching on the fabric as you pull it aside.

“Fuck,” and the word does something to you, legs bending at the knee, spreading a little bit wider as his fingers dip between your legs, gathering the wetness that had pooled there from your dream. “All this for me, sweetheart?”

All you can do is nod, releasing his wrist and allowing him complete access to your body.

Long fingers sweep through your slit, sticky arousal webbing between his fingers in a lewd sight, he drags his fingers to your clit, pressing his thumb against the bundle of nerves and rubbing tight circles. Your hips jerk, hands fisting the fabric of your shirt, stretching the material.

“Mr. Yang,” you moan.

Hearing you say his name like that while awake this time, knowing you truly wanted him, has him swearing again, fingers dipping lower, middle and ring fingers sliding over your entrance before slipping inside.

He starts a slow pace, letting you get used to the feeling of his fingers inside of you before picking up speed, the squelch of his fingers repeatedly entering you fills the room. The way he curves his fingers, stroking that little spot, has you seeing stars, hips arching off the bed.

The pace of his fingers picks up, stroking just right, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit with every plunge.

“Oh,” You whimper, hands clenching your shirt tighter, lashes fluttering as he brings you close to the edge.

The sounds, wet and sticky, make your face flush, thighs threatening to close around his hand but he keeps you spread with his other, fingers smoothing up and down your inner thigh. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he tells you, fingers curling once more, the pads of his fingers continuously brushing that gummy spot inside of you.

A breathless moan leaves you, thighs trembling as his fingers work you to your release, relentless in the way they stretch you open, preparing you for his cock.

“Want you to cum like this,” he tells you, and his words have your breath hitching, chest rising and falling rapidly the longer he fucks you with his fingers, your cunt clenching around the invading digits. “Need you to make a mess all over my hand, okay, beautiful girl?”

All you can do is nod, gaze lidded as you watch the way his fingers disappear inside of you, your arousal stringing them together.

It’s when he teases a third finger do you break, the stretch has you moaning out, eyes rolling as your hips roll upward, orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, trying milk them as if they were a cock and he swears quietly, continuing to sink his fingers inside of you, wanting to draw this out for as long as possible.

When you reach down to push his hand away, thighs clenching shut is when he pulls his fingers free, a mess of cum coating the digits and he has to fight the urge to put them in his mouth. “Did so good for me, sweetheart.”

The praise has you hiding your face, forearm draping itself over your eyes, but he tuts, clean hand grasping your wrist to pull it away so he could see you. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and you gasp, his pupils swallow his irises whole, black drowning out the brown; his glasses sit low on his nose.

“Want to give me a hand?”

Looking down, your lips part, exhaling deeply. His cock strained against his sweatpants, and a wet patch formed on the material. Settling himself better between your legs, he allows you to reach out with shaky hands, fingers catching the band of his sweats before you’re slowly pulling them down.

“Oh,” and he can’t help but chuckle at your reaction.

One of your hands reaches forwards grasping his base and his cock jumps in your grip, a bead of pre dripping down onto the blanket below. His hand that was covered in your cum joins yours, stroking along his length, coating himself in your essence before letting you take the lead.

You stroke him a few times, reveling in the way he shudders, soft moans leaving him the longer you jerk him off. Your thumb slides over the head of his cock, dipping into the slit, causing him to let out a choked moan, hands dropping to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh.

“Need to feel you, sweetheart,” Welt’s voice is rough and strained, and you find yourself obeying, stroking along his length once more before guiding him to your entrance. “Good girl,” he murmurs, hands sliding up and down your sides.

His cock parts your folds with a squelch, tip breaching your entrance as your thighs draw up around his hips and your hand falls away, allowing him to take the lead. Inch after inch he sinks in deeper until he’s about halfway in, then he’s pulling out, much to your dismay.

“M-mr. Yang,” you gasp, grasping at the pillow beneath you as his hips roll forward, cock nestling in deep this time. Your eyes roll, thighs quivering when he grips your hips firmly, pinning you to the bed.

“Hm?” he hums low in his throat, his grip on you like a vice, sliding in to the hilt before stilling, letting you feel the full length of him.

The stretch has you moaning out, thighs trembling where they rest around his hips. All you can do is lie there and take it, jaw falling slack.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, but you whimper anyway, a stuttering breath of his name slipping past your lips. His thumbs stroke slow, careful circles into the skin of your hips.

A gasp leaves you, hands coming up to grab his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his sweater as he pulls back only to thrust back in, building a slow but heavy pace.

“Yes,” you pant, looking down, watching the way his cock fucks into you. His length is covered in your slick, the wet squelching sounds when he enters you make your eyes roll, hips desperately trying to meet his thrusts, yet he still holds you down.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” and you do, lidded eyes meeting his brown ones, the warmth in them makes you shudder.

“Mr. Yang,” he hums again at the sound of your voice, forearm coming to rest by your head while his other hand slides up and over the dip of your waist to push your shirt up, exposing your breasts.

“So beautiful, you know that?” He murmurs, and his words have heat drawing to your face, gaze dropping. The hand on your breast moves upward, joining the other one on the opposite side of your head, arm sinking into the mattress. “I said look at me,” he punctuates his words with a particularly rough thrust of his hips, catching you off guard.

“Oh.”

“There we go, my pretty girl.” And it takes everything in you not to look away again, hands reaching up to grab his face, trailing over his cheeks before they’re cupping the back of his head, tangling in his hair.

The eye contact is intense, with each heavy thud of his hips against yours, his cock hitting in right where you need him. Your breath stutters, thighs squeezing his waist, keeping him nestled in. Welt refuses to let you shy away, his gaze keeping you locked in place.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he rewards you with a deep thrust, “Keep looking at me.”

A whimper escapes your lips when he thrusts in deep again, length throbbing inside you, the heavy feel of his hips, the stretch of his cock, it’s all too much, yet at the same time not enough. Your grip on his hair tightens before you’re scratching against his scalp, earning a low groan from him.

His hips stutter for just a second, then he pushes in with a strong, heavy thrust. “Feels good, yeah?” he whispers, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours, breath ragged. And you nod because what else can you do? Your hips roll up to meet his, his cock stretching you open with every heavy thrust, making you see stars.

“M-mr. Yang—” choking on a moan, your eyes roll, lips parted, breath fanning against his mouth. “F-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours, eyes sliding shut when your cunt clenches around his cock. “My beautiful girl,” he praises, and you moan when he presses his lips against yours, your hands sliding down the length of his body to slip under his shirt to scratch at his back.

It starts soft, but then a hand comes to cup the side of your neck, thumb rubbing along your flesh before his lips part, tongue darting out to dip between your lips. You weren’t expecting him to kiss you like this—so intensely, like he’s trying to swallow you whole. It leaves you breathless, his tongue dancing with yours, coaxing soft sounds from you. All the while, the pace of his hips never let up, if anything, it picks up, your body rocking beneath his, breasts bouncing softly.

When you part for breath, your lips are slick and slightly swollen. The way he’s looking down at you with an unreadable softness makes your breath hitch, nails digging into his skin. “Mr. Yang,” you gasp, and then his lips are back on yours, eyes fluttering shut.

A shudder wracks your body when his grip on your neck slightly tightens, angling your head so he can deepen the kiss. You’re moaning, lips parting, his tongue finding home in your mouth once more.

When he pulls away this time, he leans up slightly, free hand coming to grip the headboard as his pace quickens once more, more insistent. The push and pull of his hip has a heat consuming you.

“Touch yourself for me, sweetheart.” He commands softly, rolling his hips just so that has you arching against him, a whimper spilling past your lips.

You can only obey, hand sliding down between your bodies, dipping lower to your folds, pressing against your clit. Your fingers work against the bundle of nerves, cunt clenching around his cock, sucking him in causing him to groan.

His pace falters, mouth falling open when you clamp down on his cock once more, hips working against yours. And he swears when he looks down between you, at the way you work your clit while he rolls his hips forward, cock dragging along your inner walls.

A heat builds in your gut, coming to a boil as he continues to fuck into you, your fingers circling your bud in rapid circles. “Oh,” you’re breathless, eyes rolling, hips arching in time with his thrusts. “I—I’m. . .”

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he urges, the headboard rocking against the wall now, if he weren’t careful, he’d wake Himeko, but with the way you were squeezing his cock, has him throwing all that out the window, a groan erupting from deep within his chest.

A full-on shudder wracks your body, a long, drawn-out moan pulled from your lips as the heat bubbles over, spilling out and flooding your body with its warmth. “Mr. Yang!” It comes crashing down on you hard, thighs trembling as your cunt flutters around his pistoning length, and he swears, hands finding your hips again, keeping you anchored to him.

It’s mind-numbing, your fingers mindlessly stroking your clit to extend your orgasm as much as possible, your other hand coming to rest against his waist, fingers gripping the fabric of his sweater. Arousal gushes from where the two of you are connected, coating his cock in a filthy mess of your cum.

“Gonna make me cum, princess,” his glasses fog up, nearly sliding off the bridge of his nose, the feel of you coming undone around him brings him to his own peak, hips stuttering as the first spurt of cum fills your insides. His nails dig into your skin, rope after rope of cum spilling forth, painting your inner walls white. “Oh, fuck. . .”

The sound of your coupling increases in volume the longer he continues thrusting, pushing you both into overstimulation, his cock throbbing inside of you. “Feels. . .” you pant, eyes rolling.

“Fuck, I know, sweetheart.”

He rocks his hips a few more times, dragging along your inner walls before he’s stilling inside of you, fingers letting up on the tight grip he had on you.

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room, your eyes clench shut as you try to come down from your high, body still trembling from the aftershocks.

Slowly, Welt begins to pull out until your eyes are shooting open, hands gripping his waist tightly. “Please,” you beg, licking your lips as you meet his gaze. “Stay inside.”

And he nearly groans, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment, his cock twitching inside of you. “Okay, pretty girl.” Then he’s sliding his grip down your sides and over your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling you close before they’re back around your waist, guiding you up from the bed and into his arms.

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, and he meets you halfway, hands sliding up your back as your lips meet in a soft kiss.

When you part for breath, he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes staring into yours so intently that your breath hitches. “Mr. Yang. . .”

“Hm?” he hums. You reach up and adjust his glasses, then cup his face. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I should’ve told you sooner.” You speak up after a quiet moment, thumbs stroking along his cheeks.

“No,” shaking his head, he sighs softly, “I should’ve been the one to say something. But I figured. . .” His voice trails off, and your eyebrows knit together.

“What?”

“I didn’t think you’d want someone like me is all.”

That makes your heart hurt. Why would he think that? If anything, you thought he wouldn’t want you because of the age difference. Was he thinking the same thing?

“I really like you, Mr. Yang. . .” You say softly, bumping your nose against his, and he laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“I like you, too, sweetheart,” he admits, his hands rubbing up and down your back softly. Hearing him say that, you smile shyly, pressing another kiss to his lips and sliding your hands through the damp ends of his hair before you pull back.

You’re not ready to get cleaned up yet, wanting to stay like this with him for a bit longer, so you ask, “Is it okay if we stay like this?”

Welt chuckles softly, pulling you in closer if that was even possible. “Of course. We can stay as long as you want, sweetheart.”

[hypostatic-oath]

The Gods' Limits

Posting this one as an unfinished snippet to get myself motivated and back into writing for this fandom (and writing at all) - because that teaser SURE WAS SOMETHING HUH

________________

"All we can do is extend the invitation." Istaroth's voice echoed, soft and familiar. You have the distinct feeling you've heard it before. It sounds almost like Venti - which, given everything suspicious that bard is up to, sounds about right. "It is up to 'them' whether or not to accept it. 'They' need to reach out of their own volition."

Perhaps it is only the enjoyment of immersion that leads you to reach your hand towards the screen. Nothing could come of it, obviously, but the Shades' hands outstretched make you feel like perhaps something should take them. The trailer has reached its end - this appears to be a strange post-credits scene, the video's little bar is not even progressing anymore - and it's clear that whoever 'they' are, Hoyo doesn't plan on revealing 'them' any time soon. An amused smile flickers on your lips, and your fingertip brushes over the Shade of Time's outstretched hand.

That smile is gone as quickly as it came the moment you see the Shades' eyes move.

They lock on you faster than a predator onto prey, and the shock is so great you do not even realise you've spoken aloud.

"The fuck?"

Your voice sounds distorted. The Shades themselves look, at least, as freaked out as you are - and the most damning evidence that something is afoot is the fact that you see your own 'The fuck?' subtitled on the youtube video. It's censored, of course. More like a 'The □□□□?', really.

"Holy shit." You whisper. It's the player. 'Them' is the player.

"□□□□□□□□?" Istaroth calls out. She's composed herself, and so have the others, it seems, which is more than you can say for yourself, a shiver running down your spine at being addressed directly. Her voice is distorted - something blocked what she said, a heavy static you're accustomed to hearing whenever a quest in-game needs to censor dialogue - but you know, you can tell. Whatever that block of text means, is referring to you.

"You are not talking to me." You state. According to all rules of folklore, if you saw something, no you didn't. This is how people die in horror movies, and you sure as hell don't like how Ronova is staring you down, with those countless, biblically-accurate-angel-worthy eyes. Talk about unsettling. Actually, scratch that. It's downright creepy. "You are not. And I am not talking to you, either."

"Then who are we each talking to?" Naberius - no, this is Rhinedottir, and the golden halo behind her (their?) head is enough to prove it - asks, with a lilt that sounds far too entertained for your comfort. Of course she of all people would find this situation funny. A disregard for the imposed limits of the world has always been her thing.

"I am speaking to myself." You respond, taking a deep breath. Your eyes glance towards the exit button on the screen. Enough man-made horrors beyond your comprehension for today. There is no way this is a feature, otherwise you'd have seen lore streamers going insane over it. You'll close the tab, reboot your computer, and then take a deep breath and file it all as Hoyoverse testing the fanbase's reception to AI, or some grand shift to VR. Yes, that must be it. Obviously, nothing wrong is going on here... but you'll wait for a streamer to react to it, just to err on the side of caution. At least they'd get content out of it.

"Wait!" Istaroth's calm whispers switch to something sharper, filled with urgency. She can feel your presence fading - and though the other two might not be bothered, the Shade of Time knows how crucial you are. How interlinked she is with you, how much of her power is yours and vice-versa, ever since you'd logged in to the world for the first time. Time in Teyvat might be her weaving, but it moves at your pace. If you leave... "Wait, wait, wait. We won't address you directly anymore. We've overstepped. Let us forget this incident and-"

"Speak for yourself." Rhinedottir's mutter could not go unnoticed, not with the subtitles on screen serving as a glaring indication she'd spoken. It earns her a stern clearing of the throat from Naberius's spirit within, that the Khaenri'ahn promptly chooses to ignore. "Come on." She almost seems to be taunting you. Scratch that, you don't even need to look at her smug expression to know she is taunting you. "You're at least a little curious."

Before you can respond - not that you would, because who in their right mind would talk to characters on a screen, on one hand because they're not real, on the other because on the off-chance that they are real you do not want to invite whatever that is into your life - Ronova moves to stand in between you and Rhinedottir, wings stretched out to effectively block the two of you from one another's eyesight. Somehow, the thousands of glowing red eyes scattered like stars across the darkness of Death's wings feel less piercing than Life's dual-colored gaze.

"Istaroth is right. Addressing 'them' is forbidden." She does not speak to you, but the fact that now you know they are aware of you is just as unsettling. "Enough rules have been broken today, and this will not bring us any closer to finding her."

The screen goes still - and the sight of that little replay icon across the frozen frame makes your racing heartbeat slow just a little, a breath of relief leaving your lips. Okay. Just a trailer. Just a weird trailer. Maybe this was one of those times where you just happened to say thw right thing at the exact right time. It wouldn't be a first. Freaky, but nothing more than harmless fun. Yes. You'll check the comments for other like-minded souls who also got the daylights scared out of them by that section, laugh about how life-like the Shades seemed, and then come across those bass-boosted edits meant to show just how intimidating the new characters are.

Perhaps that was just it - the fourth-wall breaking was meant only to showcase the level of power going on with these three (four? five, if one were to count both the missing Asmoday and Naberius as their own person?), the trailer deliberately scripted to spook a few more gullible players.

The fact that people were in fact mentioning it in the comments put you significantly more at ease. Ah, lore. To think there was once a time where Genshin was just a game about a lost space twin helping a silly little bard reunite with his dragon friend while looking for their own lost sibling. And then you were promptly thrust into eldritch horror territory with perhaps the cutest graphics ever. Terrifying, ten out of ten.

Even after seeing that other players had experienced more or less the same - perhaps it varied according to the language they'd watched the teaser in? - it was too much. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give the game some time, so your head could stop reeling from the experience before being plunged back into Teyvat. It would be a while before you could go back to mindlessly bullying weekly bosses without a care in the world, feeling like those things were watching your poor Traveler.

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Seven

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Seven: New Year's Day

Summary: Saiki's parents invite his friends to celebrate New Year's, and that leads to disastrous realizations.

            Let (Y/N) continue to be my friend, prayed Saiki.

            “Hey, Saiki!”

            I should have prayed for a quiet New Year’s Day.

            “Hi, Saiki!”

            You’re fine.

            “Hello! I’m Kusuo’s dad!” Mr. Saiki leaned in to Kaidou, who he hadn’t met yet.

            Mrs. Saiki hadn’t either. “I’m his mom! Wow, you’re such a cute boy! Thank you for being friends with Kuu!”

            “What? Uhm…Well…Er!” He stuttered and leaned back nervously. “N-Nice to meet you! I’m the Jet Bla—I mean, I’m Kaidou! I really appreciate your son’s camrader—err, help.”

            (Y/N) pretended to cough as they chuckled at Kaidou’s near-slipups.

            “Well, I didn’t realize Kusuo had friends other than (L/N) and Nendou,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “Nendou’s not my friend,” huffed Saiki. Then, he added, “Neither is (Y/N).”

            “Do you think if you tell yourself that enough you’ll actually believe it?” asked (Y/N) playfully.

            Saiki declined to answer since he actually did consider (Y/N) a friend.

            “To think someone like Kusuo actually made three friends,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “I prayed that Kuu would have lots of friends!” said Mrs. Saiki. “And it came true.”

            So it’s her fault.

            “You haven’t gone to pray yet, have you two? You should go!” chirped Mrs. Saiki.

            (Y/N) nodded. “Yep!”

            “Ah, yes! I should! Indubitably,” said Kaidou nervously. He walked up and rang the bell. I hope I’ll have lots of friends.

            (Y/N) rang the bell and clapped their hands. I wish for the people I care about to have a wonderful year! Especially Saiki…

            The pair returned to the Saiki family.

            “I never expected to engage in a battle with God,” said Kaidou, back to his usual self.

            “What did you pray for, Kaidou?” asked (Y/N) curiously.

            “Ah, well, it’s a secret!” squeaked Kaidou, blushing out of nerves.

            Yare yare. At least he’s getting over what that fake clairvoyant said.

            “What about you, Saiki?” (Y/N) looked at him.

            He shrugged in answer. (Y/N) nodded in understanding.

            “And you, (L/N)?” asked Mrs. Saiki.

            “I want my friends to be happy!” answered (Y/N).

            Saiki blinked. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised anymore at their good heart.

            “Oh, hey Kaidou, (L/N),” said a new voice. Hairo had arrived. “You’re here, too, Saiki? What a coincidence. Happy New Year!”

            “Y-Yeah,” said Kaidou.

            “Are you all visiting the shrine to pray? To tell you the truth, I—Hm?” Hairo noticed the adults behind Saiki who looked ecstatic. “Saiki, who are you with?”

            “My parents.” Unfortunately. I don’t want you all to meet.

            “Oh, so you’re Saiki’s parents!” exclaimed Hairo. “Nice to meet you! My name is Kineshi Hairo! I’m Saiki’s Class Rep! Saiki is always helping me out!”

            Mr. and Mrs. Saiki were crying in happiness about how good a kid Hairo was as the boy walked up to the shrine.

            “To think you have this many friends!” sobbed Mrs. Saiki. “I’m so happy I’m about to cry!”

            “Since when do you have such good communication skills?” cried Mr. Saiki.

            “They all just follow me around on their own.”

            “You know you like us!” teased (Y/N). Hopefully at least me. It’d be weird if you didn’t like me as a friend. Their heart clenched at the “like me as a friend.”

            You, maybe.

            I pray for a good rival that I can passionately challenge with all I’ve got, thought Hairo as he bowed at the temple. A formidable rival is also like a good friend. I hope I’ll find someone like that.

            “What did you pray for, Hairo?” asked Mrs. Saiki as the redhead returned.

            “Well, it’s a secret,” said Hairo.

            What’s the deal with everyone wanting friends? Saiki’s eyes wandered to (Y/N). Not everyone is like them.

            “Oh? Hey, guys!” greeted Nendou, walking up to the group. “What’re you guys doing here?”

            “Hiya, Nendou!” (Y/N) waved.

            “Oh, hey, look! My pal’s mom and dad are here!” observed Nendou.

            As Saiki heard Hairo’s astounded “realization” that Nendou might be his rival and Kaidou’s excitement at having friends, he couldn’t help but think about how people’s prayers were coming true. Even his own. (Y/N) seemed pretty happy as usual. Though their parents were probably on another business trip, they were still cheery. Saiki was glad about that.

            “By the way, Nendou, have you gone to pray yet?” asked Hairo.

            “Oh, you mean ringing the bell and stuff? Okay then, I’ll go do it,” said Nendou. He rang the bell hard. “All right! Let’s go get some ramen.”

            “What type of ritual is that?”

            “The Nendou ritual,” answered (Y/N), amused.

            Mr. Saiki laughed. “You only rang the bell. Here, I’ll show you how to do it.” He and Nendou walked back up to the shrine. “Now, you first throw money in here, and then you ring the bell. After ringing the bell, you bow twice. And then you clap your hands twice and say a prayer.” I hope Kusuo finds a nice significant other! “After that, you bow one more time to finish.”

            Nendou repeated the ritual before they returned to the group.

            Yare yare. What a wish my dad had… Saiki glanced at (Y/N) unconsciously.

            “Oh? Could it be?” said a sweet voice. “Ah! Saiki, what a coincidence!” Teruhashi had appeared in her glowing glory. I ran into him here! How lucky! I mean, lucky Saiki!

            Mr. Saiki noticed her, and his mouth dropped open in shock (a normal reaction for those meeting Teruhashi). Could it be that my wish from earlier has already—?

            No!

            But it ticks me off that it would be someone this cute! thought Mr. Saiki.

            There’s only one person here I actually like to be around, and that’s (Y/N). Not Teruhashi.

            “Oh! T-Teruhashi!” stammered Nendou.

            “Hiya, Teruhashi!” (Y/N) waved.

            “Wow!” Mrs. Saiki clapped happily. “Who is it this time?”

            “Hi, Teruhashi,” greeted Hairo.

            “What’re you doing here?” asked Nendou.

            “I’m Kusuo’s father! Nice to meet you!” said Mr. Saiki.

            “I’m Kuu’s mom,” introduced Mrs. Saiki.

            As everyone crowded around her, Saiki and (Y/N) stood off to the side. Saiki was annoyed that so many people were interrupting his chance at a peaceful day. (Y/N) was standing there like a personified ray of sunshine. They were rocking back and forth happily, humming lightly to herself.

            “Let’s leave before they notice we’re not with them.”

            (Y/N) grinned. “I’m a terrible influence on you! Let’s do it!”

            They turned and took a few steps before Mr. Saiki noticed.

            “Oh? Are you going home, Kusuo?” asked his father. He turned suddenly to the other teenagers. “Oh, that’s right! If you like, you’re welcome to come by our place! We have customary New Year’s dishes, too.”

            “Yeah, come join us,” invited Mrs. Saiki.

            “Yeah, let’s go!” cheered Nendou as the others agreed.

            Poor Saiki had become black and white and blank.

            “Saiki? Saiki?” (Y/N) waved a hand in front of his eyes. Oh, man. This really did a number on you!

l

            “Whoa! These mashed chestnuts totally rock!” said Nendou as he ate.

            “Go ahead and have as much as you like!” said Mrs. Saiki.

            Saiki sat in a corner, trying to avoid the festivities. (Y/N) was sitting in the sun next to him. Like a cat, they were almost napping in the warm light.

            “It’s very delicious! Please teach me how to make it sometime,” complimented Teruhashi.

            “Of course! It would be my pleasure!” said Mrs. Saiki.

            “You’ll make a good wife, Teruhashi,” commented Mr. Saiki.

            “I’m flattered!” gushed Teruhashi.

            That is not the option I want anyone to consider.

            …Not that there is any option.

            “Everyone, thank you for being good friends with Kuu,” said Mrs. Saiki honestly.

            “No need for thanks!” Hairo grinned.

            “We’re his friends because we want to be,” said (Y/N), stretching and smiling.

            Saiki liked that idea, strangely. He could make people do whatever he wanted, but to know some people just wanted to be around him was nice.

            “Yeah, you’re right, sorry,” said Mrs. Saiki emotionally. “I’m just so happy. He’s always had very few friends because he’s a psychic.”

            Everyone froze after that statement. Silence fell over the room.

            Yare yare.

            Saiki’s eyes immediately darted over to gage (Y/N)’s reaction. They tilted their head in confusion and glanced between him and his mom questioningly. However, there didn’t seem to be any hostility or fright on their face. Saiki was thankful for that.

            “Honey, you probably shouldn’t have said that,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “What?” Mrs. Saiki clearly hadn’t planned to say that.

            “He’s a…psychic?” asked (Y/N). “What do you mean by that?”

            Mrs. Saiki paled as she realized what she had revealed.

            “Honey, you should say something,” said Mr. Saiki.

            “O-Oh,” stammered Mrs. Saiki.

            Calm down. This is nothing to panic over. Nobody is taking this seriously. Well… Saiki glanced over at (Y/N) who was looking intently at him as if realizing something. Most of them aren’t. They may be a problem. As usual, (Y/N) was observant at all the wrong moments.

            Mr. Saiki coughed awkwardly. “Well…” He attempted to change the subject. “Do you guys know the logo of Shonen Jump?” he asked nervously. “You know, the pirate symbol?”

            “Yes, I do know it,” said Hairo, slightly confused.

            “If you turn it ninety degrees, it looks like the profile of a girl,” said Mr. Saiki. “Well…I just thought I’d point that out.”

            The teenagers still looked awkwardly at him and his family. Finally, Nendou looks at a manga.

            “Oh! Whoa! Cool! It really does!” exclaimed Nendou. “Here, look at this!”

            “You’re right! It does!” realized Hairo.

            “It looks like she’s wearing a skull hairclip,” remarked Kaidou.

            “I guess it does look like a girl,” said (Y/N). They remained distracted, however, and kept glancing back at Saiki questioningly. They weren’t as mollified as the rest of the group.

            Yare yare. I have no choice. I need another distraction. Using his powers, he knocked over a water glass and made it seem like Hairo had done it.

            “Oh, no! I’m sorry,” apologized Hairo as the water soaked the tablecloth.

            “Oh, no! I’ll bring a dishcloth!” cried Mrs. Saiki.

            The night ended with the incident, finishing any talk of Saiki’s psychic abilities. After dinner, the teenagers said their thanks and began to walk back to their houses together.

            “I didn’t expect Saiki’s parents to be so cheerful,” said Kaidou.

            “Yeah,” agreed Nendou.

            “At any rate, have you no manners?! You sure made yourself at home,” said Kaidou.

            “What?! Hey, you were the one talking all funny! What was that about?!” cried Nendou.

            “Now, now. It’s New Year’s. Let’s not ruin it by fighting,” admonished Teruhashi angelically.

            “More importantly…” (Y/N) suddenly spoke up after thinking hard. “I wonder what Saiki’s mom meant about him being a psychic.”

            “Oh, that…I wonder what that was about,” said Hairo. “That made things kinda awkward, didn’t it?”

            Saiki teleported behind a telephone pole. Yare yare. They couldn’t undo the damage after all.

            “She was probably just joking,” said Kaidou.

            “But they did suddenly change the subject…” pointed out (Y/N).

            “Yeah, it definitely was a little strange,” said Hairo.

            “But Saiki’s mom is a little unusual, so…” said Nendou cheerfully.

            Don’t say that about my mom.

            “But they really dodged the subject,” remembered (Y/N).

            You really become observant at the most inopportune times.

            “I thought it might be true for a second,” admitted Hairo.

            “That’s silly,” scoffed Kaidou, acting tough.

            “I was just kidding,” said Hairo.

            At the next crossroads, they all split up to head to their respective houses. Each teenager was now alone.

            As (Y/N) walked, they continued to ponder on what had happened at dinner. Especially the incident with the water spill. (Y/N) knew it had seemed that Hairo knocked the glass over, but…his elbow never touched it. Could it be possible? It seemed outlandish, and yet…(Y/N) couldn’t help but think it made sense. Could Saiki really be a—

            Thwack.

            Sorry, (Y/N). I can’t have anyone know. Saiki sighed as he watched (Y/N) walk away. He could only hope that their germanium earrings wouldn’t negate his Nanana stick and memory altering.

l

            Saiki was half-pleased. His memory altering had been successful on Nendou, Teruhashi, Kaidou, and Hairo, but now they all had annoying misconceptions of what Mrs. Saiki said. The only person he was unsure about was (Y/N). He couldn’t read their thoughts, so he had no idea what she thought. As (Y/N) waved to him as he sat down for school, however, they clearly “remembered” what Mrs. Saiki said.

            Saiki’s never had many friends because few people understand him.

            (Y/N) smiled to themself. Saiki…You’re an enigma incarnate, but…I want to be your friend. Through thick and thin, I want to be by your side. I want to try to understand you, if you let me. I hope you’ll let me…because I really care.

            Those sentiments had been hidden quite deeply before, but as (Y/N) thought them, they took root, and something new bloomed in their heart.

            Oh dear, thought (Y/N) as that something new grew unbidden. Their eyes widened, and they touched their heart. I have a crush on Saiki.

Taglist:

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@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

@leonardo-dabitchy

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[faewrenbird]

Homicipher Theory

Mr. Hood: The Dishonored Samurai

Don’t turn your nose up yet, hear me out. Maybe it’s a stretch, maybe it makes sense, maybe it’s just a damn good (or delusional) headcanon, you decide.

Homicipher/Mr. Hood Route Spoilers Below!!!!

I established in an earlier theory that the “Ghost Apartments” is a pocket of the spirit realm on haunted grounds where a hospital and subway line were once located but destroyed in an earthquake, after which, an apartment building was built and then abandoned.

But I have a theory that the history of the haunted grounds goes even further back. Perhaps as far as Edo-era feudal Japan. Why? I’m inclined to believe that Mr. Crawling is from that era, but that’s a whole different theory I still need to mull over.

Suppose it’s true—that the cursed land that has accumulated hundreds of vengeful and lost spirits became haunted hundreds of years ago. Perhaps, it became cursed and haunted due to war in this time period. Whatever the case, operating under the premise that its history is this old, I want to take a look at helpful Mr. Hood.

Mr. Hood

He’s the first face we see after waking up in the spirit realm (not counting our startling run-in with Mr. Crawling). You could consider him our Toriel. He gives us the basics, enough info, or lack thereof, to begin our exploration. He tries to teach us some words: light, dark, sound, door, not, maybe “container” if we’re smart. We take this knowledge, leave him in the room behind us, and proceed to immediately get our hearts eaten by Mr. Gap.

But who, or what, is Mr. Hood?

The only thing we learn about him from our brief introduction is that he’s a man of few words, mysterious, monotone, and he’s…literally just a guy in a hood. Oh, and he’s got a big fuck-off axe for seemingly no reason at all.

From what I’ve played of the game so far, it seems we’re unlikely to ever see him again unless some really bizarre and specific conditions are met.

If those conditions are met, we wind up being Alice-in-Wonderlanded into a miniature version of ourselves, and Mr Hood makes an unexpected appearance to help us try to find the magical potion to make us normal again.

During our adventure with him, we…don’t learn much. Kind of the ongoing theme of this game, actually. Get used to perpetually knowing nothing and being confused by what you do know.

We do learn a few key things, though.

First, man has a deft hand with an axe. In fact, he can flawlessly execute any ghost he deems to be a threat, without a moment’s hesitation, and with the badassery to act totally calm and say only “they’re dead” when you interrogate him about it.

Second, there’s nothing under the hood. After escaping a brutal entity, he sits with his hood pulled back, revealing nothingness. Unlike the Bride, though, he prefers to mask this feature. When we comment on his lack of a head, he quickly pulls the hood back up.

Third, he has a body. Although lacking a head, we know that there’s something solid under the cloak, because he hides us in it and we comment on the err…texture of his insides(?).

Fourth, he is some kind of executioner. This is perfectly apparent design-wise. Hooded and carrying a massive axe that he employs with perfect ease. Some speculation, but he seems to specifically serve the purpose of executioner in this land of ghosts. He’s very adept at detecting a threat and differentiating between good and evil (wish the same could be said for our himbo-brained Mr. Crawling, but I digress). In fact, while we're taking a nap, he evidently leaves to a different room to hunt and kill another ghost.

Fifth, he goes where he’s needed. He comes off as someone strictly bound by his duty. At least, this is what I infer rather than him being a wandering spirit in these halls. It’s why, when we’re reunited with Mr. Crawling and the others, Mr. Hood leaves us. We don’t need him anymore, and he can’t accept that we want him with us just because we like him. In fact, he tells us not to say things like that, or depending on your interpretation, that he has nothing to say to that before he abandons us.

So, what does this all mean (apart from making him the sexiest and most mysterious hooded figure I’ve ever known cough)?

My theory is that, in life, Mr. Hood was a samurai who committed some great treason and thus endured the ritual of hara-kiri (seppuku) for his execution.

Hara-kiri was a form of ritualistic suicide where a samurai would take a blade and slice open his stomach, after which, an executioner would decapitate him. An honorable death was when the executioner left just a bit of the criminal’s neck during the slice, not quite severing it completely. A dishonorable death meant the whole head came off, which was embarrassing for the deceased samurai and his family.

If Mr. Hood was a samurai, his prowess with a weapon and calculating attitude towards fulfilling his duty and cutting down enemies makes a lot of sense.

If he was a dishonored samurai, then his reclusive manner and the shame of having no head also makes sense. Not that I think the ghosts retain memories of their life (Mr Gap excluded), but he could be carrying residual shame and dishonor from his death. He could be forever trapped trying to repent for his sins by executing evil, to make up for whatever treason he committed.

I think it’s further evidenced by our description of his insides. Slimy. It’s a grotesque thought, but if we’re being held against a gutted and sliced open stomach, this description makes sense, too.

Additionally, the shame and self-loathing would help explain why he rejects our confession of affection towards him. He’s not worthy of that affection, nor of companionship. He can’t even fathom our interest in him.

(Edit: some below translations aren’t great, I’m still ironing them out. As I’ve seen now, the best translations show us saying “Love you,” and Mr. Hood replying with “not understand,” indicating her can’t grasp our love for him, which still lines up with everything I said!)

I personally am really obsessed with this concept and have adopted it as my headcanon because I think it makes it all the sweeter when he comes back to save us and decides to carry us for all eternity (which, btw, I squealed when I realized that we were no longer small when he picked us up with this objective in mind, so we’re spending our afterlife being bridal-style carried by this man). We are, after all, the first person to care for him since his humiliating death. The first person to like him. The first person to give him purpose beyond routine and mindless execution of dark spirits. We give him a new duty, something to protect and cherish.

And idc what you say, that’s goddamn romantic for this vaguely romantic horror game.

[onceonafullmoon]

Meet Cute

Micheal Kaiser x GN! Reader

No warnings, just pure fluff! Reader is in college and from America. Reader is an anxious mess and a football fan. Apologies if the german is shit, I did my best. This fic is kinda scuffed but I wanted it to be done lol

“S–Sind Sie Michael Kaiser?” You blurt out, before mentally face palming at the stupidity of your own question. He laughs again, a slightly smug look on his face at being recognized before responding. “Ja, ich bin Michael Kaiser.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you peruse the selection of the ice cream tucked away in the freezer section, but you can’t help but smile to yourself at the welcome sight.

Yes, it was that time again, that familiar time in every college student’s life, the time to eat away your feelings after struggling your way through midterms.

Fuck midterms.

And fuck proper societal conventions as well.

Because here you are, in your pajamas, doing a late night grocery run and regretting it with every strange look served your way.

Sometimes you forget that you aren’t in America anymore, and your people-of-Walmart activities will inevitably lead to your downfall, but at least that day isn’t today.

Well, it was a small mercy that no matter where you were in the world, whether in Germany or America, that at least ice cream was a true constant that remained in your life.

You analyze the see-through fridges with slight disappointment as you realize the selection you have to work with is slightly smaller than what you’re used to, although maybe upon further inspection you’d find it refreshing not being swung at visually by 15 brands in one shelf, all desperately vying for your attention.

Either way, you find yourself drawn to the same flavor you always pick, a true creature of habit, and you pull open the fridge door to grasp at the item of your choosing.

At least you are until you find your hand colliding with another, a silent gasp parting your lips before you pull your hand back in surprise.

“Sorry!” You blurt out before realizing your mistake. “...err, I mean– entschuldigung!”

(Your German is hardly passable to be frank, but you figure you should at least try speaking the language of the country hosting you for the semester.)

Anyway, the sound of your stilted dialect is enough to bring out a light chuckle from the person, the man judging by the timbre of the voice, next to you and you finally look over to see…

Holy shit.

Is that Micheal fucking Kaiser?

You stare shell shocked at the blond superstar soccer (football, you correct in your head) player next to you, as he begins to speak.

“Kein Problem.” He says smoothly, and you have to make a conscious effort to shut your slightly parted mouth as you continue to stare at him with widened eyes.

At this point, the best thing you could do for yourself would be to grab your ice cream, pay and leave before you embarrassed yourself, but unfortunately for you, your mouth didn’t catch the memo.

“S–Sind Sie Michael Kaiser?” You blurt out, before mentally face palming at the stupidity of your own question.

He laughs again, a slightly smug look on his face at being recognized before responding. “Ja, ich bin Michael Kaiser.”

You feel your cheeks start to burn in embarrassment as the realization dawns on you that you’re standing in front of a world class athlete in the middle of a grocery store in a wrinkly, old, oversized t-shirt and shorts.

“Sie möchte ein Autogramm?” He asks amusedly, giving you a subtle once over that you normally would have missed had you not been so self conscious.

“Ja, bitte.” You say, fishing for a pen and paper in your bag.

“...I don’t normally look like this, I swear.” You can’t help but add as you find your paper and pen, switching over to English out of a combination of embarrassment and lack of language knowledge.

“You don’t?” He asks lightly, humoring you and switching over to English before taking the pen and paper out of your hands. “I would have thought you looked like this everyday.”

“What, messy?” You ask in a light tone despite being slightly offended as he scribbles his name on the paper.

“No.” He says with a smirk as he finishes, handing you the paper. “Gorgeous.”

You blink at him for a moment before you feel your cheeks warm up again, averting your eyes to the side to avoid his gaze as you try to process the fact that a celebrity, more importantly, an attractive celebrity is flirting with you.

“Ah– um, well I– uh, thank you.” You eventually get out before willing yourself to look back at him, your stomach doing a flip as you see the same smirk on his lips that you’re used to seeing on TV.

“Kein Problem.” He repeats again, that same amused lilt in his voice. 

“I mean–” You start again and you feel yourself regretting the fact that you decided to speak again. “For both uhm, the autograph and the compliment.”

You pause for a bit, unbelievably flustered, before you blurt out. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’m so awkward, I’m just gonna leave now.”

He laughs at this, his eyes seeming to soften a bit before he speaks in a quieter tone, almost as if he’s afraid to scare you off. “No you’re fine… it’s cute.”

Your heart thumps in your chest rapidly, like you’ve just gotten done running a marathon, and you feel the heat rush to your face along with a fluttering feeling in your stomach. All these sensations combine to force a rather undignified sound from deep within yourself, sounding equivalent to a mouse caught in a glue trap.

You feel your face heat up further from the strangled sound that emitted from your very being and scrunch your eyes shut for just a moment away from Kaiser’s prying gaze.

When he laughs, you feel the embarrassment return tenfold, although the fluttering feeling in your heart might just be also because of the rich timbre of his chuckle.

“Hey, look at me.” He says after a few seconds, and despite your longing to keep your eyes closed you can’t help but obey his command.

So, slowly you open your eyes, taking in the sight of his handsome visage, his lips quirked up in a smile and it almost feels painful how your heart thuds.

“...what?” You question weakly.

“Just needed your eyes on me for a second while I do this.” He says before leaning over ever so slightly to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering at the apex of where your ear meets your cheek before finally pulling away.

“...” You can’t help the way you gape at him, momentarily speechless as he takes in your facial expression with his signature smirk.

“Sorry Liebling, your hair was bothering me.” He offers up as an explanation, but you can tell from the delighted gleam in his eye that he’s lying.

“Y–yeah, right.” You stutter out despite your best efforts to remain unphased and straighten up. “Anyways, it was nice meeting you, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“No, it was a pleasure.” He says smoothly, and you can’t help the twinge of jealousy that runs through you at his composed demeanor. “Take care, would you?”

“Of course, y-you too.” You manage to get out, and he smirks at you one last time before confidently striding away from you, leaving you slightly shell shocked in the ice cream aisle.

It would be a while before you fully collected your thoughts after you paid and exited the store, and that’s why perhaps you didn’t notice three things in particular.

One, that you forgot to pick up the goddamn ice cream that you were so looking forward to getting. 

Two, that your beloved celebrity had also forgotten to get his ice cream that he was reaching for because he was also that flustered despite his confident demeanor.

And three, the little number written next to your autograph with the small written letters next to it “Ruf mich an <3”.

---

Taglist: @gigiiiiislife

[magpiezs]

Gray Doesn’t go to Tenrou Island au?

And Becomes a functional disaster.

A rough sketch of One of those Someone stays during Tenrou Island tropes, in this one it’s Gray!

He’s already an angsty guy as it is so I imagine having like all your friends “die” he’s looking rough.

Ft. Unshaven, eye bags, coffee addict, temporarily wearing what may or may not be a bathrobe mess.

(He’s also wearing slippers <3)

At least he’ll put on this when he actually wears clothes lol..

I imagine he’d be a pretty good guild master.

He’s working overtime to pay all the bills and whatnot and keeping guild out of debt. Rip Macao in canon timeline.

When Grand Magic Games begin the guild is prob ass for like the first year or so, but Gray inspires the guild, and they be going from last to 2nd to 1st place in no time.

I have a funny idea that during one of the years Gray really wants to participate in the games but guilds masters can’t.. so Macao becomes master for like a week.

So Grays not only the 4th Guild master but the 6th lol.

Other random ideas for this au:

He has a white streak in hair, it’s from some magical accident/battle. since throughout fairy tail there’s always crazy things happening in the world, I refuse to believe that nothing happened during the 7 years, the guild wasn’t just busy fighting debt during the 7 years but also some dark guilds or smth. (When Tenrou Team returns, Cana is convinced he just dyed it to be edgy, while Loke is convinced it was just stress, they get the story out of him at some point)

Someone def gave him that mug as a joke. “It’s the perfect mug for an ice mage!” Maybe it was Kianna or Max and Warren.

(I was also thinking of making the mug say “stone cold bitch” but I liked the Christmas theme)

He comes across Ultear at some point. Or she (purposefully) stumbles across him (to kill him), they fight ofc, (like og) but it ends nicely and they become friends, and maybe even siblingish. Call Lyon have lunch on Mondays. Get inside lore about Crime Sorcier.

(When Tenrou team return, Juvias like “That woman was on ternrou she asked about you she wanted to kill you!” And he’s like “oh yeah That Ultear haha she does that<3”)

(Juvia would be head over heels x2 seeing older Gray.

Gray would decidingly ignore this.)

Kianna, Laki, Max, Warren, Jet, and Droy become a lot stronger in this au. I don’t think they can outmatch Tenrou tho, especially when the Tenrou Team spend those 3 months catching up.

I also think it’d be funny if during the seven years they hosted their own S-Class trials.

Laki is now an S-Class Wizard.

Taking in consideration Grays abilities and improvement throughout og timeline. He prob got super strong during those 7 years.

When Tenrou team is back. I think both Natsu and Gray would miss that they aren’t equals in strength, anymore and Gray hates that he has to hold back now during brawls cuz fighting Natsu was fun. Lucy finds this hilarious. (Erza would get sad and proud seeing this, he grew up without her </3)

Despite this ^ I also have a funny idea that Gray would constantly Overestimate Natsu due to being used to being equals. So during a battle Gray would be like oh Natsu can do that and Natsu’s gonna have to begrudgingly be like… err…. Idk about that one man (taking in consideration Natsu listens to Gildarts lesson during Tenrou and knows his limits). And Grays like ??

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

I don’t get why some fans of Yugo get mad or annoyed at him for disliking his own Sans. He’s been dealing with nonstop fans for years who only focus on the memes surrounding Epic!Sans. Yugo has even expressed regret over making his Sans just a walking meme in the past, and of course, that would take a toll on his mental state and how he feels about the character. When people say he should stop talking about it, they don’t seem to understand that others constantly bring it up to him. It’s his character, and he has every right to vent about it however he wants.

You’re absolutely right, Epic is Yugo’s character, and he has every right to do as he pleases in how he uses said character and feels about it. I don’t condone harassment, and am firmly against attacking a creator simply because you passionately dislike or like a character of theirs.

One of my qualms with Yugo about Epic is how they blamed all of their mistakes and “cringe” of Epictale as a whole and projected it onto Epic and claimed the character’s death and celebration of his end meant that Yugo was absolved of any discomforting behaviors or jokes.

When he still continues to do so, even with characters from Epictale he likes.

Silly and goofy memes, might not be everyone’s preferred taste but there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. Memes are supposed to be silly and fun.

But then Yugo having to be convinced by their fans not to do NSFW commissions involving minors?

No no sorry, that’s not fair. Of course anyone who is broke would be desperate, and they’re just fictional characters, right? Whats the harm? No way does fiction impact reality in anyway.

Doesn’t that reasoning sound familiar?

And anyway, Yugo rejected it in the end. Of course that should be ignored then and any criticism of it is unwarranted.

My mistake. It’s still not fair. At least with Epic dead and gone, Epictale is free from anymore cringe and problematic anime tropes!

Again, I don't mean this as an attack on you or Yugo. It's a criticism, and one where my overall point is that my biggest gripe with Yugo isn't that I love his character and he doesn't. It's that Yugo seemed to absolve himself of all his shortcomings by projecting them onto Epic and therefore is free from error or criticism now.

Disliking that Red/Lara and Mettaton are in love with Papyrus who is seventeen makes you a hater. SEVENTEEN. They are literally centuries of years old, even in the remake. I know in reality, the age of consent varies per state in the USA and especially varies depending on country, with minors able to be married in some with their parents or guardians' consent, but still. It's uncomfortable. It's unnecessary. Papyrus could be shipped with Lara and Mettaton as an adult, as he is in Undertale by the fandom and in other AUs. But now with the context that Lara and Mettaton knew Papyrus since he was a child, it's disconcerting to imagine romance with any of them. Look, it's understandable for a creator to feel a certain way about their work and how it's interpreted. Especially in what they choose to do with their creations, in revamping or remaking things, and how they feel about it and choose to get rid of some things entirely.

For the most part, I enjoy Epictale and have read his brief Neutral!Frisk storyline. Yugo is a talented artist, and I adore Epictale and the characters and the great potential they all have and what can be expanded on it.

The old Epictale bore the same errs as many AUs within the UTMV fandom in its early years. Fantastic AUs with amazing concepts often had something problematic about them and this was sadly normalized. From the past Cream comics portraying SA as romantic or silly, to PJ's Daycare and the like also joking about minors/adults, SA and r*pe, SH, etc. Or it could be problematic with Frans or Fontcest, either in canon within the AU or played around with as concept. Epictale wasn't worst of them, nor was it the outlier in one of its characters joking about or portraying these problematic things.

Here's a big one: Underlust. It's not a masterpiece, and like many AUs, has so much potential. Unfortunately, there's so much that detracted from it that a remake or dismissal of most of its canon is needed if you want to find any enjoyment from it at all.

Same thing with the past Cream comics. At that point, the blog itself caused too much for its creators and they deleted it and made it non-canon entirely. I don't know what happened to the UL creator, but I assume something similar happened.

Sorry, back to Lust. I was not active in the fandom in its early years, I only witnessed glimpses of it and when I wanted to get into something, like Cream, it upset me too much and I left the fandom. In particular with Underlust, it makes me so sad because I was introduced to him through fanon first, where someone had an SA experience and used Lust as an expression of what it was like to go through something like that in his line of work. And it felt cathartic. Comforting. A character who could understand how I felt, who was was unconventional in their self-expression and yet happy and at peace with who they are, would be able to heal and find happiness regardless of what happened to them. But then I found the parts of his canon with Fontcest. And it turned out Lust had nothing like his fanon and it hurt. I could no longer enjoy the AU and ignored it entirely from then on. But Lust, today, is still so dear to me because of what he could be.

Yugo wants to move on from the past and be a better person. I think that's a noble endeavor. Anyone can be a better person and change. That doesn't make it easy, and it certainly doesn't mean that everyone will try.

And for the most part, Yugo seemed to make progress. Epictale in and out of its comics doesn't make any more jokes about sexual harassment as far as I'm aware. There are no harmful slurs used in a joking manner. For the most part, it seems Yugo made good on their word and is trying to move on from his past mistakes. Many creators of UTMV's past seem to do something similar, and I wish them all peace and commend them for trying to move on and be better. However, when Yugo crucifies Epic as the source of all his problems, and uses him as the symbol for burying the past and amending his mistakes, only to then make similar ones (far less severe than the ones he used to do, admittedly, but still concerning nonetheless) instead of using Epic's potential to make him be as Epic as his namesake, it doesn't piss me off, at Yugo or his fans. Fans won't always focus on what a creator originally wanted them to focus on. That's simply the nature of fandom. And memes are one of the most popular enjoyments of fans and is the most unifying act among them. But there would also be fans who love things besides the memes, who will work to enjoy and create what they can gleam from canon and expand on it, in art or fiction, with other characters in the story. So long as fans don't attack the creator, harass them, insult or demand they do more with their preferred character(s), I don't see anything wrong with this. It sounds like a regular community to me. No. It just makes me sad. But as you pointed out, it's Yugo's character and his right to do as he pleases. So, respectfully, Yugo wishes to have nothing to do with Epic anymore; I am all too happy to love him along with the fandom. Because to truly move on from the past, you need to accept accountability. I know Epic used to have problematic characteristics, be it in the noncanon comics or art, but it was a part of his character. I acknowledge that. And I want to move on. Remove the parts of the past that are bad, and instead of ignoring it, use it as a reference of what not to do, as a reference to be better and do better. I want to build on his potential and love him. Because Epic makes me happy, and I know he makes others happy too. Why not heal and work together to create something everyone can enjoy?

[tacomicyuri]

Sooo. ii17…

imagine getting back your relationship which is the closest bond either of you have ever had and then dying right next to each other. Taco literally died in ii15 out of fear of seeing mic again, then she gets forgiven, a second chance to be with the one person who she’s ever truly cared for, the one person who cares for taco anymore, just for it all to immediately be ripped away from you. lol what if they died holding each other. As a last plea for help they cling to each other. They’re both the most each other have ever had. And now they’re both gone. Looolll

when taco died in ii15 she didn’t think she’d be brought back, that she was forever doomed to be a terrible person and no one would ever forgive her. But mic did. Taco was made to be that way, taco was made to live a life knowing no one would trust her or care for her. But mic did. No one else. Pickle hates taco and would never forgive her, truly seeing her as someone incapable of change, but mic believed in her. Mic was the only person taco ever knew that truly cared enough to help her change and see it through. Taco didn’t get the time to fully fix herself. She died still a fracture of a better person. But mic still cared. They were right next to each other in those final moments.

mic lived her life not being enough. No one ever cared enough to just Listen to her. She somehow always did something wrong. But taco beginning a partnership with her allowed her to prove herself. Taco shows pride in mic multiple times, she knows mic can achieve these things, she gives mic that chance no one else would bother to. Taco listened to her as well, for the most part. She helped her return the taser even though taco viewed that as stupid and she had a chance of getting caught, she did it because it was what mic thought was right. In ii17 she mentions that she didn’t do any physical violence, specifically because mic doesn’t approve of that. Taco cared for what mic wanted even though she didn’t exactly agree. Mic was giving her this chance to be better and taco was taking it so she could be better For mic. Taco went against mics wishes once, in ii14, but she did it because she Thought the outcome was what mic had wanted. She was willing to try and give her everything. Mic was appreciated and understood by One person, and then as a sort of final straw she breaks that apart. But neither of them stop thinking about each other. Taco especially doesn’t. After mic leaves it gets rid of her incentive. She stops caring about the money. All she wants is to fix herself. The person she cares for more than anyone, who also had been the only one to care for her, is gone. She suddenly had nobody. She needed to be better. She Wanted to be better. Because she lost the most important thing in her life. Mic leaving made her desperately try to get everyone else to leave just as she had. Because she realised the game was so much more, because she had lost everything from it. Her everything. Mic ends up forgiving her because she never gave up that hope. That hope that taco would change. She never stopped caring for her, she needed taco to see she wasn’t in the right. That she Needed to change, and that wouldn’t have happened until she left and gave her the time to. As she sees taco actually giving effort to be better, she allows her back in her life. Taco’s effort got started and now mic was here to help her along the rest of the way. Or, at least, she would’ve been there if it weren’t for their end. She stood by her side as she was brought out to the rest of the contestants, they stood by each other till the moment they died. Two people, err objects, who have only ever been understood by each other. Together in the end. Side by side. As their entire world is deleted along with them.

[lodeddiperactivate]

Falling out (timeskip with you and Rodrick)

A/N: Found this in my draft. Started writing it a while back with the intention of turning it into angst with you and Rodrick fighting over what happened but got lazy! Just gonna post this as a blurb/drabble, not planning to turn it into a full fic series anymore :/

You and Rodrick have been friends since highschool, and at some point, yeah it felt as if there was something between the two of you. However, neither one of you did anything about it for the sake of not ruining the friendship. Eventually, after graduation, you two went your separate ways. He became more focused with his music career, and you moved to New York to become a journalist. You thought that was the end of it until one day you got a call from your mom asking you to help Rodrick find an apartment in New York.

It had been 5 years since the last time you've seen each other at your highschool graduation, and you honestly believed that moving to another state will ensure that you won't ever get to see him again. The thing is you two started having a fallout when you heard rumors that he was dating Heather.

Your mom instructed you to meet Rodrick at a cafe near your apartment so that he can also tour any vacant units in your building. You protested at first but there's nothing you can really do as both your families remained close throughout the years. And now Rodrick is moving to New York because he got accepted as a Financial Analyst at some corporation, which is another surprise as you thought he had pursued music full-time.

~

As soon as you entered the cafe, you started looking for a table since you assumed he'd be late but to your surprise, he was already sat at a table by the window. He wore a light blue button down and some beige corduroy pants. His expression was vacant, as if the 5 years that went by had sucked his soul out of his body. He saw you and waved, and feigned a small smile as you walked towards him.

"Hey"

"Hey there, thank you for agreeing to meet with me," he said. He sounded so formal, you weren't really used to this new Rodrick.

"Not a problem, how have you been?"

"Fine, great. I got a job at this company and thought it would be a good opportunity for me to move here as well," he paused. "You look good."

"You too," you replied as both of you sat down. You were both testing the waters as to what topics should you talk about and which ones are off the table. After some silence, you decided to suggest that you both order.

"Oh I already ordered some chocolate chip pancakes for the table, and some orange juice," he smiled. Oh that smile! You missed it so much.

"I love chocolate chip pancakes,"

"I know," he looked at his hands in front of him, clasped together. "I remember."

"Uhm so my mom told me you were looking for an apartment?"

"Yes, I am!" He said as if snapping out of a trance. "I have all my documents with me." You smiled at him, and he smiled back and for some time, the two of you started to relax.

The pancakes arrived and you both ate for awhile until you decided to simply rip off the bandaid.

"So how are you and Heather?" He seemed surprise with the question but felt like he already had prepared an answer.

"We broke up actually. Second year in college. She said that I was holding her back," he trailed off.

"Oh I'm so sorry to hear that."

"No, it's fine, she was right. Loded Diper wasn't going anywhere and I was basically flunking every one of my major subjects."

"Loded Diper's no longer playing?"

"Well, we're on a hiatus, at least until I figure things out and I will figure it out," he beamed at you with a certain level of reassurance, much like his old self, you thought. You smiled back and proceeded to finish the rest of the food.

"We can start touring some units that are available in my building," you started as both of you walked back to your apartment building. "When will you be starting at your new company?"

"Err, tomorrow actually."

"What?! You won't be able to find an apartment and sign a lease in New York in less than 24 hours, you know!"

"Yes yes I know."

"Thank you," Rodrick looked at you and you looked at him. You missed him so much and you hoped that this will be your chance to get back to what you two were like before. He held your gaze as if he's searching yours for some sign that everything will be alright between you and him. You leaned closer and before you know it, he had let his forehead touch yours.

After some time, you lifted your head, "Okay okay, here's to hoping that the unit is still available in my building. I can guarantee the landlord that you're a good tenant and maybe that will speed up the process."

It didn't. In fact, even after touring some other apartments, you two were left with zero to nothing chances of signing a lease within the week. You were both exhausted so you've settled with him staying your apartment at least until he finds a place of his own.

[caramelarrowswife]

THE SECOND KING

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

In an alternate universe far, far away, the roles are reversed. In this specific universe, Dark Cacao is not a king - at least, not anymore. He works as a maid in the Citadel very much like that one in our own dimension, for a king named Coffee Roll Cookie.. one we might know as the Second Watcher of the Dark Cacao Kingdom.

While this king, just as everyone, has his flaws, he isn’t stupid. He’s suspicious of his maid, the maid who does his job just a little too good and knows the insides of the Citadel just a little too well…

And Coffee Roll isn’t actively avoiding this maid because of a different reason, of course not. What a silly thought…

A/N: For @rolereversalauwatchercao/@randomspagetti, not because you asked for it, but because your blog is one of my favourite things in the world <3

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

King Coffee Roll Cookie sat behind his desk in the royal bedroom, a stack of old records in front of him and his head in his hands. He had been reading for hours straight, which wasn’t very good for his remaining eye. Coffee Roll knew this for a fact because the healers at the Citadel had told him this very explicitly and very repeatedly.

The king was looking for a report on the old king of his Kingdom, the king who had left his people behind. Unfortunately for Coffee Roll, there had been a crack in the Wall a century or so ago, and the room where the records were stored was flooded.

This did not make his job a lot easier.

Coffee Roll was shaken from his thoughts by the knocking on his door. It was a knock he had long since memorised; two short knocks, one long knock and one short one again.

“Dark Cacao Cookie. You may enter,” Coffee Roll called out, straightening his back.

Dark Cacao walked into the room, lowering his head and torso in a small bow. “Your Majesty. I was sent to dust the books in your room on request of your healers.”

“Why do they always send you?” Coffee Roll sighed, burying his face in his calloused hands again.

Dark Cacao raised an eyebrow at the sight. “If it’s a problem, I can be replaced-”

“No!” Coffee Roll said a little too quickly, looking up. His cheeks darkened slightly at the intensity in his own voice, and he cleared his throat. “Err.. that will not be necessary. "You'll have to do.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Dark Cacao huffed out a quiet chuckle, walking past the king to dust the bookshelves behind him.

Was Coffee Roll really at fault for turning around to watch the maid stretch to his tallest to reach the ceiling shelves?

“Be careful with that,” Coffee Roll said as Dark Cacao reached the older books. “I don’t want them to disintegrate into dust. I’d hate to have your head chopped off for destruction of royal property.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Dark Cacao chuckled. “You haven’t had executed anyone since–”

A silence fell when the unspoken words echoed through their minds. Not since the last king fled.

“No matter,” The maid said quickly, continuing his work, “The important part is that the new anti-guillotine law was extremely popular amongst the residents of your kingdom, your Majesty.”

“Obviously. Who wouldn’t like a law that kept their heads attached to their necks?”

Dark Cacao barely suppressed a smile. “Ever the perceptive, sire.”

“Oh, don’t suck up to me, Cacao. I have enough of that with Affogato Cookie,” Coffee Roll scoffed good-naturedly.

Dark Cacao’s movement halted for a second, stopping his dusting. His smile tightened and left his eyes all together. Coffee Roll noticed.

“You seem tense. Is the relationship between you two that bad?” The king asked, turning to fully look at Dark Cacao.

“Affogato Cookie and I are not on good terms,” Dark Cacao said curtly. “I would appreciate it if you couldn’t compare me to him, sire.”

“..are you still convinced he poisoned you?” There was no smile on Coffee Roll’s face, but his good eye twinkled mischievously.

“Not only convinced, my lord,” Dark Cacao said darkly. “I know it for certain. He wants me gone.”

“If he poisoned you, shouldn’t you be having a seizure on the floor when you took it?” Coffee Roll pointed out. “Unless you drank poison every day since you were born to prepare yourself for the day an ill-intended royal advisor tried to kill you..”

Dark Cacao held his gaze.

“..you know, I don’t even think I’m going to finish that sentence.”

“I do warn you, your Majesty,” Dark Cacao said seriously. “That man is up to no good, I’m calling it.”

“Call all you want, Affogato is useful to the Kingdom,” Coffee Roll sighed. “I can’t banish him because you think he might’ve put something in your drink.”

“If that’s your final order..” Dark Cacao said cryptically. “Don’t knock on my door when he steals the throne.”

It was Coffee Roll’s time to raise an eyebrow, now. “Are you seeing you would deny your king access to your home in a time of need?”

Dark Cacao paused. “..forget I said anything.”

Coffee Roll laughed, putting his hand on Dark Cacao’s shoulder. A mistake, it seemed, as Dark Cacao subconsciously put his hand on the one on his shoulder. The king’s face immediately flared up and felt as hot as an oven.

“Right, then. Wonderful job. Off you go, now, back to.. whatever you maids do in your free time,” Coffee Roll said quickly, just barely managing not to stammer.

“But- sire, I haven’t finished dusting- and I am not a maid-!” Dark Cacao’s brows furrowed as he was ushered towards the door.

He just barely got to see a flustered Coffee Roll slam the door in his face, causing Dark Cacao to smile.

Undeniably endearing.

[kiwimeephu]

'Semi' Incoherent Basketball Tangent Crossposted From Twitter Dot Com (Directors Cut)

does . Does adding a title ruin the #aesthetic

Umm anyways last night i was thinking really hard about basketball and robot flower's arc (mainly basketball's part in it. Unfortunatley) and basketballs run in tpot (Unfortunatley)

I just thought itd be fun to put here (under cut) and do some more thinking Because .. its a Little incoherent and im kind of Negative (i err cant provide alt text at the moment for the screenshots, will edit later Dont Worry)

although i still Agree with my points i feel a little bad for Not going into the problems with rf's perspective (and how she was Handled as a whole) (which.. i Wont be doing rn 🙁 DEFINITLEY LATER . TRUST ME I HAVE WORDS . just. This is very obviously about that ball)

one (get it) thing i have to bring up is One (get it) - I can see why they used basketball to get that Part across, she was easy to grab. problems with her team, not being listened to, stress over robot flower. Yeah Yeah.

My biggest problem is how it feels like it just. Wasn't elaborated on, most of this has to do with tpot 13-14, where basketball's whole Deal with one is basically.. Over (ESPECIALLY TPOT 14) but even during the time the two were together.. it felt a lot like.. Basketball was just getting exposition dumped? Besides when rf was coming into Play, none of it really.. corresponded to her character. (I mean.. I can understand Why. You gotta get exposition out SOMEHOW.. Lol)

She's considered important for things she Didn't Do, just things she happened to be There to witness.

and, this is something brought up when i was talking on Here, actually!! - It's implied one had seen herself in basketball, I mean. She compares herself to her. Bringing back my Earlier gripes with Bball and One, how most of the exposition dump doesn't seem to have anything to Do with basketball, I wish more of that needed elaboration could've been in tpot 14.

Girl literally had just encountered a Scary Cryptid alien who made her sign a Mysterious Contract, she can at the very least express some concern. It doesn't even have to be scenes of her doing full on explanations.. maybe a retread of tpot 12? She's desperatley Trying to explain to the others about where she was and What happened.. and if they aren't going to do any "big expansive plot moments" with her anymore, maybe.. just Maybe.. make her a little more on edge than just.. Standing there . LOL

Unfortunatley, alot of my suggestions feel like they'd be discredited just because of the fact that . She's already Taken up so much screentime.. (this is where my mind kind of fogs! I need to rewatch tpot Sorry, some things may be Wrong ;_; ) so much of the basketbot arc is built up upon basketball doing.. Nothing. It took until Tpot 10 for her to actually get a Plan. (which.. as much as i like to interpret it as part of her character of being. Really bad at working things on her own, i Don't think was the intention.. Said plan ends up going nowhere anyways) She gets focus on scenes that don't lead up to anything, really. It's a slow burnt plot that just Wasn't working in the show.. and the way it was solved with the contract is Such a dissapointing ending when you take into account that it went Nowhere. (especially on rf's end, outside of the one stuff, Dont Get Me Started)

From my perspective, if you've given a character so much screentime already, you're going to have to deduct some for the sake of the rest of the team.. which is Understandable!!! I get why 100%. I dont want to look at basketball's Ugly Mug any longer then normal. But it leads to having more to be desired when things actually.. Get Going later on.

But, i guess in our Perfect Bball Centric World- If she had survived her elimination (Please No. Im sorry she HAD to go.. its so funny to Make Fun of her, her vote count is humiliating Ok...) it would've been fun to see her work with fanny and ice cube regarding One.. I dunno, whenever i see tennis ball mystery solving i just think My Ball Couldve Been Here.. but i digress . She's Dead

Now that she IS eliminated though, i really Did think her and robot flower would Continue to be important, given they WERE on fanny and ice cube's whiteboard, and their rather unconventional way of getting Eliminated, they could've gone missing... A Number Couldve Been.. AFOOT.. But nope. Next time we see both of them, they're part of the Masses trying to escape 😭 'Course, tpot isnt Done.. so we COULD get more of them (i really think rf couldve been involved ok... again A Talk For Later (eye twitch))-

Maybe they told the others about one? That's why they all want out? I'm trying to not Focus on speculation though, rather then looking back on how she was this season. Eitherway, her relevancy seems Unlikely 😞

Now, looking back at her characterization .. it's definitley. Done. (Im progressivley losing my train of thought SOS I HAVE MORE TO SAY I SWEAR. Times catching up to me, too.. I Got Things 2 Do)

I like the idea of them branching away from her dependancy issues, i like it A Lot. but in execution (though this may be a fault Of the writer change) it tends to fall flat. Tstoe defintley suffered from the writing change, if i remember correctly they got a Little .. Santized? The team felt a lot less Dysfunctional. (WHICH I CAN HANDLE! it just felt a little sudden.. no real Bonding Time, Yaknow..)

Basketball is ABSOLUTELY not a leader type character, I think the idea of her Dilly Dallying away in challenges to focus on what She deems as more important, much to her teammates dismay, is a fun idea.. I wish she had time to be more selfish and get reprimanded for it (She literally didn't do shit about grassy being Burnt Alive 😭 and then.. No one cared?? Not even robot flower.. girl you knew her the longest you Know how much she cared for the little guy)

I wish her relationships with her other teammates on strongest team were given more importance (Outside of rf, LOL) especially her relationship with Grassy 🙁 grassy immediatley moved on from her and it stinks because.. they had such a fun dynamic (hoping for more of them in idfb.. its Interesting how they're established friends in bfb beforehand.. Please 😢)

Another relationship of hers that was slowly forgotten about was with golf ball, it's just as dissapointing. Basketball's dependancy on 8-ball Immediatley shifting to her wanting that with GB despite not liking her beforehand is really funny, her 'switch up' in Tpot im a big fan of because. You kinda see it coming, she really does Not see Gb as someone she'd want to stick with, but her follower mindset directs her to it anyways. But now she's given the chance to prove herself as 'better'? She takes it and just acts like a Prick. (Okay i May be getting a little headcannony here.. a Rewatch is imminent.)

Alas, basketball's reign of terror is Hopefully done. It's sad to see her go, despite her being Kind Of Ass . I do miss her presence.. it's not the same without her aura farming..

Uhh Uhh.. i may do a Follow Follow up to this if i get to rewatching/think of something at work .. Very sorry if this was the Worst Shit youve read and I am 10000% Wrong . Oops 😓

Ok wait i thought of another good closer . Sigh. Despite basketball of bfdi not winning tpot.. she did win one thing.. being the Biggest Bum on the show...

[marisandini-chu-blog]

The last arc for the Trio Top Ten Girls LET'S GO!!!

Gosh, I love looking up and witnessed how people react to Luo Li. How people underestimate her because exactly for the cutesy yet confident act she put, and then BAM! LH0 hits you with her backstory that hits in so many women's struggle.

The way TBHX really resonates for people is because it's one of those medias that gives voices to people who needs to be heard. It might not change your situation for the better, but certainly being heard gives a strange sort of comfort to know you are not struggling alone or knowing that someone out there might see the episode and realized the struggle you didn't know even exist - as well as the satisfacfion of being heard.

What a treat it has been to have Cyan, Queen, and Luo Li show case what each aspire to be the kind of hero they want.

Now, on to the show!

Oh, hello stalker. Your room is certainly not creepy at all

If you are actually Ghostblade and/or father, i swear the girls are so valid at seeing you as a creep

Okay, so people believe Disco's guy can hype people no matter what to party and have a good time. Never imagine it could be used this way

Mickey, Rock, Shang, AND ZAC?! Wtf are these assholes coming together for?!

You know what thay say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall

And DJ Shindig grew big too fast apparently

Iron fist my foot! YOU'RE A FUCKING CRIMINAL, ROCK! YOU ARR THE LAST PERSON TO BE PREACHING ABOUT HEROES!!!

Zac seems... decent atm.

Nuonuo... you're too drunk to think straight... DON'T GO TOWARD AN EXPLOSION DRUNK, GIRRRLLL!!!

You know what? Considering his ability is to hype people, I don't think it would matter much with a drunk person

"Why would he be in call with someone else?" Dude, he has something called a life, you know?!?!

I don't feel sorry for the DJ... but man, at least accuse the pervert Mirror Ball of the right crime

FUCK YEAH, LUO LI!!! SHOW THEM WHAT YOU'VE GOT! LOVE YOUR NEW LOOK!

You know, it's funnily ironic how FOMO let go of DJ Shindig before recruiting Luo Li.

I don't know what's more embarassing, DJ's delusion or Nuonuo's misunderstanding

Ooooooh, is the suit prevent ling her getting hit by the sound wave

Oh shit, Luo Li's being pushed back

WTF SHE HAS A MECHA BAT?! THAT'S SO COOL!!!!

Oof, that destruction might err... made things worse at this rate... uup, I was right

Oooh, so there's a degree of getting up in Fear that might turn you into a monster state - kind of like an overdose

So the show ain't being subtle about hinting about Nuonuo's dad anymore

I can't believe they almost fully confirm the sad approach of a stalker is really from the cold intro of this hero

Ghostblade, what the hell are you thinking?!?!

Ooooh. Luo Li realized the secret project of her dad's and it's dangerous application

ALIENS?! WE'VE GOT ALIENS IN THIS SHIT?!

I mean, it's more of a setting then an active participant to the social dynamic of the universe

BUT SERIOUSLY? WHY OF ALL THINGS ALIEN?!?!?!

New Hero X theory; HE'S AN ALIEN IN DISGUISE 🤣🤣🤣

It's really sad to see how much attention can be additictive to people to the point they are delusional enough to think they can be Hero X after everything that happen

With Bowa before and now DJ Shindig... is the the obsession for the title Hero X is starting to turn people for the worse???

Okay, so Spotlight is specifically antagonistic with the Hero Comission

[elsenmiller]

Um, well... Small update, uhm, I suppose..? The cat is... Um, named... Jasper, yes... That. I didn't name him that, he just, um... Told me that was... Um, his name. Ah, well, at least he's... Not mad at me anymore, but... I... I- I don't know how to take care of a cat... He does... Uhm, like little pets though, so... I'll try my best. Ah... Yeah, I'll really do my best to make him happy... Still can't, uh, err... Wrap my head around it, really...