#Honestly I will always lean more towards option 2

[redrobin-detective]

There are two wolves inside you.

One is interested in the idea of Iruma slowly adapting to the demon world in mind and body. The language comes easier on his tongue and the environment is no longer menacing. His teeth get sharper, his magic flows more naturally and one day he spies the beginning of small wings and tail sprouting from his back. He assimilates and embraces his newfound demonhood.

The other is intrigued by the idea of Iruma settling in the demon, eventually ruling it while remaining unabashedly human. Its customs, while familiar, always feel strange. He uses his human traits, both those advantageous and not, to force his way to the very top. The reason no one ascended the throne of the demon king in hundreds of years in none of them had that inate human grit to overcome hardship.

[writingforstraykids]

Always back to you - Chp.2

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of Chanlix)

Word Count: 7523

Summary: Minho and you grow closer over time as he watches you handling his beloved son with such ease. Minjun's innocent question, asking you to stay with them, changes the dynamics a little. One day, you're taking the trust Minho offers you regarding his son a little too freely, and it ends in a mess...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit, double "date" with chanlix, panic attack (brief description), argument (y/n and minho/ minho and chan), min collapses during practice

PART ONE | PART THREE

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Two weeks later

You just left the local aquarium, and all of you felt like getting something to eat now. Minho had mentioned their planned visit to the aquarium a few days ago, and Chan and Felix had decided to tag along, inviting you as well. 

It had been great fun seeing Minjun so fascinated with everything and answering all his questions. Chan and Felix fell back occasionally, taking some private moments as a couple for themselves as well, which left you a lot of time to talk to Minho. 

Now, you’re back outside, standing in front of the aquarium. “You’re hungry, mate?” Chan asks, kneeling in front of Minjun. 

“Yes,” he nods, wrapping his arms around Minho’s leg and cuddling into him. 

“Then let’s go get some food, yeah?” Chan suggests with a warm smile, and Minjun nods.

Minjun glances around before gently tugging at Minho’s trousers. “Daddy?” he asks, and Minho hums in response. “Up?” he asks, seeming a little intimidated by all the people after the peace and quiet at the aquarium. 

“Come here, dumpling,” he chuckles, picking him up. He tickles his side, pulling a sweet giggle from him, and kisses his cheek. “Let’s go eat, yeah?”

“Yes,” he nods, much more content up here now.

Felix looks up from his phone and taps Chan’s shoulder. “Babe? I found something,” he tells him, and Chan’s hand finds his as he leans over to glance at his phone.

“There’s a small restaurant not far from here that offers a lot for kids,” Chan tells them after humming agreeingly. “They even have a small playground in the back in case he gets bored and some coloring sheets.”

“Oh, guys, seriously, we can go wherever you want. He can still have some of mine if they don’t have kids' portions,” he assures them, and you notice his slight discomfort.

“I don’t mind, it looks good,” you agree with Chan.

“Minho hyung, relax; there’s plenty of stuff for all of us there. We don’t mind, honestly,” Felix assures him with his usual bright smile. 

“Okay then,” Minho nods with a shy smile. 

The theme restaurant is vibrant, decked out in bright colors, and adorned with characters from children’s shows. It was every kid’s dream, but as you sit down and look over the menu, Minho feels a familiar sense of dread begin to settle in. You excuse yourself for the bathroom and leave them for a moment. 

“What would you like to eat, Minjun?” Minho asks, pointing to pictures of various kid-friendly options. “They have dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, or maybe you’d like some noodles?”

Minjun scrunches up his face and shakes his head fiercely. “No! I don’t want those!” he protests loudly, causing a few nearby customers to glance over.

Minho’s heart sinks; they are in his son’s favorite type of restaurant, yet the usual struggle is unfolding. “Come on, buddy, you love dinosaurs. These nuggets look fun,” he tries to keep his voice cheerful, but the frustration is hard to mask.

“I don’t want it! I want to go home!” Minjun’s voice starts to rise, edging towards a tantrum.

Minho shoots his friends an apologizing look and shakes his head gently. “Baby, we'll eat here as we said.”

“They have your favorite noodles, Jiho; look,” Felix tries to help, showing him on the menu. 

“No!” Minjun swats his hand aside. Felix blinks in surprise but draws his hand back with an apologetic grin toward Minho. 

“Minjun, hey,” Minho says more firmly than he intended. “I know you're upset, but we don't hit people. Say sorry to Lix, baby,” he lessens the firmness in his voice again. 

“Sorry, uncle Lix,” Minjun says timidly, tears starting to form in his eyes. 

“It's okay,” Lix assures him gently. 

Minho takes Minjun's little hands into his and gently smiles. “Thank you, buddy. You still don't want to eat?” he asks. 

Minjun shakes his head, avoiding his eyes. By the time you arrive, Minjun is on the verge of tears, and Minho is feeling the stares of other people, each look like a weight added to his shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask gently, taking your seat next to Minho. 

“He doesn’t want to eat anything,” Minho explains, rubbing his temples. Chan gently pats his back, trying to calm him a little. 

You turn to Minjun, your expression thoughtful. “You know, I was really hoping you could help me with something,” you begin, speaking directly to Minjun. “I’m super hungry, and I can’t decide what to eat. Maybe you could choose something for me? What do you think is good here?”

Minjun, now distracted from his brewing fit, looks curiously at you. “Fries…or dino nuggies...” he mumbles, still upset but intrigued by the involvement in the decision-making.

“Great choice. But I heard this place has a secret dish that’s really, really cool,” you whisper conspiratorially. “It’s a magic pizza that makes everyone super happy when they eat it. Do you think we should try it?”

Minjun nods, a slight smile breaking through his frown. “Okay, we can try,” he agrees shyly.

You wink at Minho, who looks at you in astonishment as you get up. You talk a word in private to your waiter before the rest orders their things. While they wait for the food, you engage Minjun in a conversation about the aquarium you had visited earlier, effectively diverting his attention from the earlier situation.

When the food arrives, the pizza is presented by the waiter, who plays along with the 'magic' theme, sprinkling imaginary dust over it. “Enjoy your magic pizza, brave knight!” he exclaims, leaving Minjun giggling.

“See, it’s magic because it makes you smile,” You say, taking a small slice and offering it to Minjun. “You want to try some magic?”

Minjun hesitates for just a moment, glancing at his father. 

“Go on, baby,” Minho encourages him. 

Minjun nods before taking a tiny bite. His eyes widen in surprise. “It’s good!” he declares, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

Minho watches the scene, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He smiles at you, mouthing a silent "thank you." The rest of the meal goes smoothly, with Minjun even trying some salad from Felix's plate and some noodles from Chan's. 

As they leave the restaurant, Minho feels lighter than he has in days. “You really have a way with him,” he says to you as you walk toward the park.

“It’s all about making it fun, turning it into a game,” you giggle. “Sometimes, kids just need a little distraction from their worries, even if it's about food.”

Minho nods, watching Minjun run ahead to the playground with Chan and Felix. “I guess I need to be a bit more creative with meals,”  he admits.

“Or just call me when it’s time to eat,” you joke, and you both laugh.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of laughter and play, with Minjun in high spirits, having forgotten all about the lunchtime drama. As Chan and Lix say their goodbyes, Minho feels not just the exhaustion from a day well spent but a profound appreciation for his friends.

“Thanks again, Y/nnie. Today could have gone a lot differently without you,” Minho says as you part ways with them. 

“Anytime, Minho,” you reply with a warm smile.

“Let me drive you home? You're on our way after all,” he says, and you take his offer. 

Minho gets Minjun settled in the back before driving off. “Y/nnie?” Minjun's little voice comes from the back. 

“Yes, buddy?” you ask, turning to face him. 

“Stay?” he asks, and you frown at him gently. 

“Stay where Minjunnie?” you ask. 

“With us?” he asks timidly. 

Minho glances at his son through the mirror. He can see the need in his eyes and swallows hard. He knows how much his son sometimes longs for someone else besides him. He asked about his mother before seeing other kids at the playground. 

You glance at Minho nervously, not quite knowing how to respond without hurting either of them. “You mean for dinner?” you ask, trying to find a way out. 

“No…always,” he says softly, his big round eyes watching you timidly. 

Minho stops at a red light and stares out of the window, avoiding your look. His grip around the steering wheel tightens as his thoughts start spiraling, once more feeling like he isn't enough for his son. He knows he isn't. 

“Oh, love,” you say quietly and reach back for him. “It's okay, you know, we see each other sooo often, and I'm always at the company.”

“But I miss you,” he says softly, and you honestly don't know what to say about that. 

“You want to stay for dinner?” Minho speaks up quietly, and you look back at him. He sees the hesitation written all over your face and swallows softly. “It would be fine,” he assures you quietly. 

You nod slowly, considering Minho's quiet offer. "I can stay for dinner, Minjunnie," you tell him, smiling as his face lights up. Minho gives you a grateful look, the tension easing from his shoulders as he turns back to the road.

The rest of the drive is spent in a comfortable silence, broken only by Minjun's occasional chatter from the back seat, talking about his day at the aquarium and the 'magic' pizza he had enjoyed. You listen, amused by his excitement and the way his eyes sparkle when he recounts his adventures.

Arriving at their home, Minho helps Minjun out of the car and into the house, with you following close behind. The familiar warmth of their home greets you and you slip off your shoes at the door, following Minho into the kitchen.

"I can help with dinner," you offer as Minho begins pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.

"Thanks," Minho says, his voice soft. "I think I'm just going to make something simple I know he likes. Is some pasta okay with you?"

"Perfect," you reply, setting the table while Minho starts cooking. Minjun hovers between the two of you, occasionally helping by passing ingredients or stirring the sauce under Minho's watchful eye.

As the pasta cooks, you and Minho chat about work and plans for the upcoming week. The conversation is light, but there’s an undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken lingering between the lines.

Dinner is ready in no time, and you all sit down to eat. Minjun chatters happily, clearly enjoying having both of his favorite two people together. The meal is delicious, and you compliment Minho on his cooking, which makes him smile with pride.

After dinner, Minho insists on cleaning up, so you take Minjun into the living room to play a game. As you build a tower of blocks, Minjun's earlier request echoes in your mind. You glance towards the kitchen, where Minho is quietly washing dishes, and your heart twitches with a mixture of affection and concern.

"You're really good at building things," you comment, watching Minjun place another block on the tower.

"Daddy says I'm good too," Minjun states proudly, his concentration evident as he places each block.

"Of course he does," you encourage him, your thoughts still on his request to have you stay. It wasn't just about tonight—it was about all the nights and all the days. He wanted you there, a permanent fixture in their lives.

When Minho returns, drying his hands on a towel, he finds you and Minjun laughing as your tower wobbles before toppling over. He can’t help but smile at the sight, feeling a warmth spread through him he hasn't felt in a while, not like this. He watches you, studying your features as he has so many times before, and something in him screams not to think you're beautiful. But you are. Lately, he can't help but notice it again and again. 

"Ready for bed, buddy?" Minho asks after checking the time.

Minjun pouts but nods, knowing that bedtime is non-negotiable. You help Minho get him ready for bed, a routine that feels both familiar and strangely intimate. Minho reads Minjun a bedtime story, and you watch, feeling a part of this little family.

After Minjun falls asleep, you and Minho settle on the couch with cups of tea. The house is quiet; the only sound is the occasional distant car passing by.

"Minjun seems to be getting attached to you," Minho begins, breaking the silence. "More than just as Y/nnie from work.” You nod, unsure of what to say, feeling the weight of Minjun's request weighing on you both. "I've been thinking about it," Minho continues. "About what he said in the car. It's not just that he misses you, Y/nnie. I think... I think he's looking for that missing piece. A family."

You meet his eyes, seeing the vulnerability there. "Minho, I-"

"I know it's a lot," he cuts you off, his voice gentle. "And I'm not asking for anything, not really. I just... I want you to know that you're already part of our family. If you ever want that, for real, it's yours. But no pressure. I mean it."

The offer hangs in the air, profound and sincere. You take a deep breath, feeling the significance of his words settles around you. You’ve grown to love Minjun and Minho, too, in a way that is more than just friendly concern.

"Thank you, Minho," you finally say, your voice thick with emotion. "That means more than you know. I love being with you guys. It feels like home."

Minho reaches out, his hand covering yours hesitantly. "That's all I needed to hear," he says with a relieved smile. “You can stay with him as much as you want to. There's no one else I trust him with as much as you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, your hand still feeling warm as he draws his own back again. 

You stay a little longer, talking and planning for the coming weeks until the yawns get the better of both of you.

As you leave, Minho walks you to the cab he called, and the night air is cool and comforting. "Stay safe, Y/nnie," he says, leaning close to hug you. You hug him back, a little surprised. "See you tomorrow."

"See you," you reply, the warmth of his hug lingering as you drive away, the image of Minjun’s sleepy smile and Minho’s thankful eyes etched in your mind.

Tonight, Minho’s words feel true in your heart—you are part of their family. And as the city lights blur past, you realize how much you’re looking forward to what the future might hold. Yes, you're delusional enough to hope there could be something deeper than what you have now. 

-

At first, you were still hesitant about staying with them so often, knowing how important it was for them to have some time to themselves. Over the following weeks, dinner with them grew into a part of your daily routine. You and Minjun spend a lot of time together in the kitchen, trying out new dishes, which makes eating a fun experience for the little one. This allows Minho to wrap up things at the company in peace, able to focus on himself for a little without having to worry about his little troublemaker. Minjun looks forward to cooking with you in the evening which makes saying goodbye to his father so much easier.

With all the cooking, you two start making extras for everyone. You know they have a fridge at the company where they store their personal stuff, so you and Minjun start filling it regularly. It delights them all, always finding a fresh meal for whatever time of the day or night if your name is Chan. It feels like you're not only part of Minho's private, small family but also his bigger family at work. 

It’s been almost a month since Minho’s offer to be part of this family, and you didn’t regret it one bit. You all found your routine by now, and you had a spare key to their house, allowing you to get home earlier with Minjun. It means a lot to you that Minho trusts you when you tell him you’re taking his son home. Minho and you have grown closer, knowing how much it meant to both of them that Minho was sharing his home with you. 

It’s getting harder with every passing day to ignore how much he means to you. How beautiful he is when he’s wrapped up in a blanket, hair messily falling into his face, a wide smile on his face as he’s fooling around with Minjun. How treasured the sound of his genuine laugh after a long day had gotten. How caring he is for both Minjun and now, to some extent you. How strong he is for his kid, making sure to excel both at work and at being a father when all he wants is to hide away sometimes. 

Tonight, you and Minjun decided to make dumplings and surprise Minho with them for dinner. The kitchen is soon filled with the aroma of spices, the rhythmic sounds of chopping, and laughter. Minjun, your little bundle of energy, is sitting on a chair next to you, his eyes bright with excitement. You patiently show him how to prepare the filling, and Minjun watches, eager to learn.

“Okay, Minjunnie, you want to try mixing?” you ask, handing him a large spoon.

“Yes,” he nods quickly, taking the spoon with both hands. His attempts are messy but earnest, and you can’t help but laugh as a bit of the filling spills over the side of the bowl.

“Good job, buddy! Now, let’s make the dumplings,” you encourage him, showing him how to place a small amount of filling in the center of a wrapper. You demonstrate pinching the edges together, a technique that has taken you a while to master. Minjun tries to mimic you, his small fingers fumbling at first, but with each attempt, his technique improves. “You’re a natural!” you compliment him and get the sweetest smile in return. Once more, you realize how similar he looks to Minho when he smiles, cheeks grow squishy, eyes squint in joy, and the bunny teeth show.

Later, as the dumplings steam, Minjun's attention shifts to the window. "When is Daddy coming home?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"Soon, I think. He might be very tired, though. He had a long dance practice today," you reply, checking the dumplings.

As if on cue, the door opens with a soft creak, and Minho steps in, his face showing signs of exhaustion. Minjun runs to him immediately, almost tripping over his feet, wrapping his little arms around Minho's legs.

"Daddy! You're home!" Minjun exclaims, looking up with a smile that falters as he notices Minho's tired expression.

"Hey, little chef," Minho says, his voice weary as he bends down to scoop Minjun into his arms. "Did you make all these dumplings?"

Minjun nods proudly, and then his face turns serious. "Daddy, are you okay? You look sad."

Minho manages a tired smile. "Just a bit tired from practice, baby. But I'll be okay. Smelling those dumplings definitely makes me feel better."

You watch them, your heart swelling with affection but also concern for Minho. Lately, the dance practices have been intense, often leaving him drained. "Let's eat! I bet your daddy's hungry," you suggest, ushering them to the dining table where the dumplings were now ready, steaming hot and inviting.

The meal is cheerful, with Minjun chatting about his day and the dumplings he helped make. Minho eats with evident pleasure, praising Minjun's efforts, which makes the boy glow with pride. However, you notice Minho grimacing slightly every time he moves his shoulder.

After dinner, while Minjun is occupied with his coloring books, you approach Minho. "You're really pushing yourself hard, aren't you?" you ask softly, concern coloring your tone.

Minho sighs, rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah, the new routine is tough. But it’s what I love to do."

You nod, your hands reaching out instinctively to his shoulder, your fingers pressing gently. "Maybe I can help a little," you offer.

Reluctantly, Minho agrees, and as your skilled hands work over his sore muscles, he feels the tension beginning to ease. The room is quiet besides Minjun's occasional hums as he colors and Minho’s low hisses whenever your fingers meet a tense spot.

"Thank you, Y/nnie," Minho murmurs, genuinely grateful. 

"It's nothing," you reply, your hands steady.

As you settle into the evening, Minho watching Minjun draw and you tidying up the kitchen, you feel complete, having spent a day well. The night ends with Minjun falling asleep early, curled up on the couch with his favorite blanket in Minho’s lap. “I’ll better get going,” you say with a glance at the clock. “I’ll be late on set tomorrow; I have an important call about a possible photoshoot for you before…but I’ll make sure someone’s there to keep Minjun occupied until then.”

“Alright,” Minho nods thankfully. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“Always,” you promise and gently squeeze his shoulder as you leave.

-

The next morning dawns bright and early for you. After a quick breakfast and the call, you make your way to the set where Minho is filming the music video for the song with Chan. Today's plan includes picking up Minjun from Minho’s set and treating him to some ice cream—a little surprise to break the monotony of his dad's long shooting days.

Upon arrival, you notice the usual hustle and bustle of the set, but with an added layer of excitement given the complex scenes scheduled for the day. As you navigate through the crowd of crew members and equipment, you spot Minjun sitting near one of the monitors, his eyes wide with fascination as he watches his father perform.

"Y/nnie!" he exclaims, his face lighting up as he sees you approaching. He runs over, nearly tripping over a cable before you scoop him up into a hug.

"Hey, my little star! Watching Daddy work, huh?" you say, smiling as you set him down.

"Yeah, Daddy’s really cool!" Minjun responds, his enthusiasm infectious. You chat briefly about what he's been watching before steering the conversation towards the day’s special plan.

"So, how about we grab some ice cream after this? Just you and me," you suggest, watching his reaction closely.

Minjun’s face splits into a broad grin. "Ice cream! Yes, please! Can we get chocolate?" he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Chocolate it is. Let’s go," you reply, your heart warmed by his excitement.

The ice cream shop isn't far, and the walk there is filled with Minjun's chatter about the various things he’s learned from watching his father on set. You listen, amused and impressed by his observations and memory.

Arriving at the shop, Minjun presses his nose against the glass display, his eyes scanning the array of flavors. "Two chocolates, please!" he declares when it’s your turn to order.

With the cones in your hands, you find a spot outside on a bench. Minjun eagerly attacks his ice cream, and the chocolate soon smudges his lips and cheeks. You can't help but laugh, pulling out a few napkins to clean him up.

"Y/nnie, do you like being with me and Daddy?" Minjun asks suddenly, his tone serious, as he looks up at you with those big eyes.

"I love it, Minjun. Being with you and your dad is the best part of my day," you answer honestly, touched by his question.

Minjun nods, seemingly satisfied with your response, and returns his attention to the rapidly melting ice cream. "Good. You're fun," he adds, his words muffled by a mouthful of chocolate.

As you sit there, watching Minjun enjoy his treat, you reflect on the changes in your life since joining their little family. Each day has brought its challenges and joys, but moments like these highlight the beautiful simplicity of your new life.

About half an hour later, you decide to make your way back, not knowing what mess your little surprise caused.

- 

Minho brushes a strand of hair from his face, eyes flickering to Minjun’s prior spot, only to notice he isn’t there anymore. He frowns and quickly scans the room, a shiver running down his spine when he can’t find his son anywhere. “Chan hyung,” he asks, terrified, grabbing his friend's arm.

Chan turns toward him, frowning, confused. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, seeing the fear in his eyes.

“Where’s Minjun?” he asks, and Chan glances around the room, not finding him either. 

“Baby, where’s Jiho?” he asks Felix, who’s already looking. “Min, who was watching him?”

Minho inhales shakily, his hands trembling by now, and his stomach tightens in pain. “I…He was right there the whole time,” he says, pointing at the now-empty chair next to the cameras. “Hyung, he was right there and-.”

“Breathe,” Felix tries gently, wrapping his arm around him. “He’ll be okay, yeah?”

“You don’t know that,” he shakes his head, anxiously watching Chan, who’s talking to their staff and trying to figure out who had seen him last. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have stopped watching him,” he whispers, and Felix squeezes him gently. Chan quietly ushers their team from the set so it’s only them, and pulls out his phone. Minho braces himself on his knees and squeezes his eyes closed as a wave of nausea crashes over him. “I’m gonna throw up,” he whispers, and Felix soothingly rubs his back, reminding him to breathe. He exchanges a worried glance with his boyfriend, anxiously biting the nail of his thumb.

The door opens, and you step inside, accompanied by a brightly smiling Minjun, who’s carrying a small bag of waffles for all of them. You look up, startled, and notice how empty the room is now, as well as Minho’s anxious form. Is he having a panic attack? Minho looks up, and the moment his eyes meet yours, something in his anxious expression changes. The fear makes room for a sudden coldness you’re not used to, which quickly gets replaced by anger. “Where the fuck were you?” he asks dangerously low.

“Minho, what’s wrong?” you respond, confusion evident in your tone as you hold Minjun’s hand a little tighter.

Minho pushes himself to his feet. “You took him. Without telling anyone? That’s what’s wrong!” His voice rises with each word, the strain of the moment overtaking his usual composure.

You glance down at Minjun, whose smile fades as he senses the tension. “I…we just went for some ice cream,” you explain, your voice steady despite the rising anxiety. “Minjun wanted to surprise you with-”

“A surprise? By letting me think my son had gone missing?” Minho snaps back, his words sharp and biting. “You don’t just take him, Y/n! Not without telling me.”

Minjun’s eyes begin to water, and his lower lip trembles as he looks up at his father and then at you. “Daddy, I wanted to.” His voice is a whisper, drowned out by the escalating argument.

“Not now, Minjun,” Minho says, a bit too harshly, his focus still fixed on you. "What were you thinking, Y/n?" he snaps, his voice laced with accusation. "You know you're supposed to let me know before taking Minjun out!"

You swallow hard at the sharpness of his tone, your eyes wide with surprise and hurt. "I'm sorry, Minho," you reply, your voice trembling slightly. Fuck. "I didn't think it would be a big deal. We were only gone for half an hour."

But Minho was beyond reason, his frustration bubbling over. "It is a big deal!" he insists, his expression one of betrayal. “I trusted you. How could you just take him without telling me? What if something had happened? How would you explain that, huh?”

Your heart clenches at his words, the hurt evident. “Minho, I would never put Minjun in danger. You know that.”

“No, I don’t,” Minho says harshly, making you take a step back, your grip on Minjun’s trembling hand loosening. What?

“Let’s all just take a breath, okay? This is getting out of hand,” Felix suggests, looking between you and Minho with concern. “Minjun is safe. He was with Y/nnie, and they weren’t far.”

"Minho, calm down," Chan steps in, seeing the clear shock written all over your face, his voice firm. "He was just trying to help out. You're overreacting."

But Minho now turns his anger towards Chan, his frustration boiling over. "Stay out of this, Chan," he snaps at him, his tone cutting. "This is between me and Y/n. This is about my kid."

“Calm the fuck down right now, Min,” Chan says, his voice rising as well. 

“Channie, baby, please,” Felix chimes in, fearing that his involvement would only make it worse. 

You let go of Minjun’s hand, looking at Minho timidly. “I thought you trusted me with him. You left him at home with me all the time, Minho. How is that any different?”

“The fucking difference is I knew!” he yells at you at the top of his lungs. 

Minjun flinches, the bag dropping to the floor. His face crumples, big tears spill down his face, and a loud cry ripples through him. Felix quickly scoops him up, walks a little away from the whole mess, and soothingly talks to him. It’s the first time Minjun has allowed Felix to comfort him when he’s upset, curling up in his arms.

You nod gently and shakily pull the keys to his house from your pocket. “That doesn’t give you an excuse to be such a fucking asshole,” you say, more calmy than you feel right now. “You just ruined his day; congratulations. Here, I won’t need them anymore,” you say, throwing the keys to his feet. “I’ll send you an email with your schedule for next week and make sure to find a proper replacement.”

“Y/nnie,” Minho breathes out, the reality of your words slowly settling in.

“Don’t Y/nnie me, not after this,” you shake your head and grab your jacket. “I’m sorry, Chan, I really liked working for you guys. You’re amazing,” you tell him before leaving, tears burning in your eyes painfully.

As soon as the door closes, Chan snaps at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Minho?!” he yells. “Are you insane? You just lost the one person who’s always been there for you. The one person your son felt comfortable around. You wouldn’t still be here without him; I hope you know that!”

“Fuck off!” Minho snaps back at him, feeling cornered.

“No, you fuck off! Minjun has no one to look after him when you’re busy except Y/nnie. Without Y/nnie, you wouldn’t even be part of the group anymore because you can’t fucking handle it on your own!” he says, and seeing Minho’s face fall, he knows he went too far.

“Chris!” Felix raises his voice at him, looking at him shocked.

“Well, thank you for finally being honest with me,” Minho says dryly, nodding to himself. 

“Min, he didn’t mean it like that,” Felix tries gently as Minho makes his way over to them. 

“Give me my son, please,” he says quietly. Minjun nearly screams as he eases him out of Felix’s hold. He flinches back, eyes filling with tears at the broken sound. 

Felix worriedly glances down at the little boy clinging to him tightly. “Minjunnie, you’re gonna go home, okay?” he asks, growing anxious, at him shaking his head firmly. “Your daddy’s gonna take you home now,” he says, gently lifting him off his chest. 

Minjun shakes his head, sobbing heavily, and holds onto his shirt tightly. “No, Daddy’s stupid!”

Minho carefully eases Felix’s shirt from his son’s hands and takes him into his arms. Minjun starts kicking, hitting his chest. Minho presses his lips together tightly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, holding onto him tightly so he won’t slip from his grip. Minjun wails in his arms, still fighting him as he carries him outside to the car. “I’m so sorry, buddy. Daddy’s an idiot,” he tells him shakily, the seatbelt slipping from his fingers repeatedly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, finally managing to buckle him up. He closes the door to the car and tries to hold back the sob threatening to leave him.

“You forgot your stuff,” Chan says softly, suddenly next to him. 

Minho quickly wipes his cheeks with his sleeve and takes the bag from him. “Thanks,” he mutters, not meeting his eyes.

“Min…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he says carefully. “You’re doing your best, and we all know it. That wasn’t fair,” he tells him.

Minho throws the bag onto the passenger’s seat and shakes his head, sniffling. “It’s fine. You were right. I suck at this, and I’d do you all a favor if I quit until he’s older.”

“Don’t say that,” Chan says gently, shaking his head. “We couldn’t do this without you.”

“I highly doubt that,” he says, voice breaking. 

“Minnie,” he says quietly. 

“Fuck, Channie hyung, I messed it all up,” he finally breaks down, hot tears spilling down his cheeks.

Chan pulls him into a tight hug, swallowing at how hard Minho is trembling in his arms. “What happened in there, hm? You’re usually not like this,” he asks carefully, and Minho shakes his head with a sob. Chan chews on his lower lip, realizing this could possibly go deeper than he thought, considering Minho’s insecurities regarding raising his kid right. The question hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed. “Look, I know you’re doing this whole parenting thing on your own, and you’re doing an amazing job,” Chan continues, soothingly rubbing his back. “But you can’t let your fear make you forget who your allies are. Y/n loves Minjun almost as much as you do. He wouldn’t just take him without any consideration of the risks.”

Minho’s eyes met Chan’s, a mixture of anger and sorrow battling within. “I know. I just... When I didn’t see him, all I could think about was all the things that could go wrong. He’s everything I have, Channie. He's my baby, and no one can just take him without telling me.”

Chan nods, smiling at him sadly. “I know, mate, I know,” he assures him. “Let me drive you two home, okay? You shouldn’t be driving right now,” he says, and Minho nods weakly. “Come on,” he urges him gently. Minho slips into the passenger’s seat, wiping his cheeks with his sleeves messily. Chan notices Felix a few steps away, anxiously chewing on his lower lip. “You’re coming with us, baby? We can take a cab from there,” he tells him, and his boyfriend nods quickly.

“You really think he’ll quit?” Felix asks timidly.

“Min? No, he-” he says, but Felix shakes his head.

“No, Y/nnie,” he says, chewing on his lower lip anxiously. “That would be the worst thing for Minjun.”

“I don’t know, baby,” he shakes his head. “That depends on Min and Y/nnie. We can’t do much; they have to be okay…but Minho feels like shit for it,” he sighs and kisses his cheek. “It’ll be okay, baby.”

“Mhm, maybe,” Felix nods before slipping into the back to Minjun, who’s still crying softly. 

“L-Lix,” he whimpers and reaches for him again. 

“Hey, buddy,” he says gently, taking his hand. “It’s okay, yeah? We’re taking you home now, okay?”

“O-Okay,” he hiccups.

Minho remains quiet during the ride home, silent tears running down his cheeks as he’s biting his lower lip hard. Minjun cries quietly in the back as Felix tries to soothe him a little. 

They reach their house not much later, and Felix carries Minjun inside. He exchanges a long look with Chan before moving Minjun to the room with all his toys. 

Minho's face is a canvas of frustration, marked by the occasional wipe to remove the tears running down his cheeks. Chan gently guides him to the sofa and sits down with him. 

"Minho, man, we need to talk about what happened," Chan begins, his voice firm yet gentle, trying to cut through the tension.

Minho nods, not meeting Chan's eyes, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I know, I know I messed up. It's just... when I couldn't see Minjun, everything went black. I panicked, Channie hyung."

Chan places a hand on Minho's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "I get that, really, I do. The fear of losing Minjun is real and valid, but the way you handled it with Y/n wasn't fair. You trust Y/nnie, don't you?"

"I do, but at that moment, all that trust just... vanished. I just felt so out of control," Minho confesses, his voice cracking with emotion.

"It’s important to remember that Y/n cares about Minjun almost as much as you do. He wouldn't have taken him without considering his safety. But I think this goes deeper, Minho. This isn't just about today, is it?" Chan observes, trying to dig deeper into Minho's fears.

Minho sighs, a long, weary sound that seems to carry the weight of the world. "It's everything, Chan. The pressure of work, trying to be there for Minjun, getting closer to Y/n, and not knowing where the line is—it's all piling up. And today, I just... broke."

Chan nods, understanding more than Minho realizes. "You're not alone in this. You've got us, you've got Y/n…you need to fix this."

Minho wipes his face. "Maybe you're right. I need to handle this better, for Minjun and for myself."

"And you need to apologize to Y/n properly. He deserves that much, Minho. He's been here for you through thick and thin."

Minho knows Chan is right. The thought of facing you was daunting but necessary. He owes you an apology, one that acknowledges his overreaction and the hurt it caused.

-

Later that day, after taking some time to compose himself and gather his thoughts, Minho found Minjun playing quietly in his room. His little boy looks up, his face still showing signs of the day's stress.

"Hey, buddy... can we talk?" Minho sits beside him on the floor, his tone gentle. Minjun nods, his eyes curious and a bit cautious.

"I want to apologize, Minjun. Daddy got very scared today when I couldn’t find you, and I didn’t handle it well. I shouted, and that wasn’t right. I’m sorry for scaring you," Minho starts, his heart heavy.

Minjun moves closer, leaning into his dad. "Okay, Daddy… Y/nnie bought ice cream."

"I know, and it was a wonderful idea. I’m sorry for ruining it. And I’m sorry for how I spoke to Y/nnie. He didn’t deserve that. I’m going to apologize to him, too," Minho says. 

"Do you still like Y/nnie, Daddy?" Minjun’s small voice is filled with worry.

"I do, very much. Y/nnie is important to us, right? I made a big mistake today, and I hope he can forgive me," Minho explains, hoping his son could understand.

Minjun hugs him tightly, "I forgive you, Daddy."

Minho chuckles softly, hugging his son back. "Thank you, baby."

Two weeks later

Life had once more settled into a stressful rhythm for Minho following the upheaval of his outburst and its emotional aftermath. Days morphed into weeks with Minjun by his side; each one layered with the joys and challenges of single parenthood, combined with his demanding schedule. Despite his deep love for his son, the strain of juggling his roles was evident.

Minho is preparing Minjun's backpack for the day, his movements automatic. The routine is well-practiced but no less draining. Minjun is playing on the carpet, glancing at his father suspiciously as he's preparing breakfast. 

“Daddy, you okay?” Minjun’s small voice cuts through the morning stillness, his eyes wide with concern.

Minho pauses, taken aback by the question. “Of course, buddy,” he replies, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“You're tired,” Minjun says simply.

Minho sighs, the weight of his exhaustion settling deeper on his shoulders. He is tired—more than tired. Each day felt like a battle, each night a too-short break from it all.

Later that day, after getting Minjun settled, the effects of chronic stress, sleep deprivation, and emotional turmoil begin to manifest more aggressively. As he moves through the complex choreography, his steps start to falter, his usually sharp movements grow sluggish, and his focus wanes.

“Minho, take five!” Chan calls out. “You’re off today, man. Everything alright?”

Minho nods mutely, too spent to formulate a response. He retreats to a quiet corner, his breath uneven, his heart racing uncomfortably in his chest. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stave off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Just as he felt like he'd be fine, a sharp pain clutched at his chest, his breathing growing labored, and the room seemed to tilt on its axis. Panic claws at his mind as he staggers, trying to call out for help, but his voice is a mere whisper. 

“Minho!” He hears someone shout and feels hands steadying him just before everything goes dark.

When Minho regains consciousness, he finds himself on a couch in the studio’s lounge, surrounded by concerned faces—Chan, Jeongin, and Felix, holding a distressed Minjun. An ambulance siren wails in the distance, growing louder as it approaches.

“What… what happened?” Minho manages to ask, his voice weak.

“You collapsed, man. Scared the hell out of us,” Chan replies, his expression tight with worry.

The paramedics arrive swiftly, assessing Minho quickly. Blood pressure high, heart rate erratic, they murmur words like "exhaustion" and "stress" as they prepare him for transport to the hospital.

The hospital tests confirm what Minho had tried to ignore: he was suffering from severe exhaustion combined with stress. The doctor’s advice was obvious. "You need to rest, Mr. Lee. Your body is telling you it can’t keep up this pace. If you ignore this warning, the next incident could be more severe."

Minho lies back on the hospital bed, the sterile white of the room a stark contrast to the vibrancy of his daily life. The words hit hard, a sobering reminder of his mortality and the stark reality of his responsibilities as a father.

Chan, who had accompanied him, squeezes his shoulder. “You gotta take care of yourself, Minho. For Minjun’s sake, if not your own.”

“I know,” Minho murmurs, the gravity of his situation settling in. “I just… thought I could handle it all.”

Chan’s look is sympathetic but firm. “No one can handle everything alone, Min. You need to let others help. Maybe it’s time to reach out to Y/nnie again. For support.”

The suggestion lingers in the air between them, heavy with implications. Minho’s thoughts drift to you, your warmth, your laughter, and the comfort you brought to both him and Minjun. The thought of reaching out, of potentially being rejected, is terrifying, yet the fear of what might happen if he continued on his current path is greater.

Anxiously, Minho makes the decision to call you from the hospital, his heart pounding as he dials the familiar number. The phone rings, each tone echoing like a drumbeat in his tense silence.

“Hello?” you ask, cautious yet warm.

“Y/nnie, it’s Minho. I… I need to talk to you. It’s important.” His voice is unsteady, and his admission of need is a significant release of his tightly held pride. “I…I need help.”

There’s a pause, a breath held, and then released. “I'm listening.”

Minho's voice wavers as he speaks, the hospital's fluorescent lights casting stark shadows across his face. "I... I had an incident today at rehearsals. I collapsed," he confesses, the words tasting like defeat but necessary in their truth.

You suck in a sharp breath at his words. "Minho, are you okay? Where are you now?" you ask, your voice thick with worry.

"I'm at the hospital. They're telling me it’s stress and exhaustion. Nothing life-threatening, but...can you look after Minjun for a few days?” he asks, chewing on his lower lip as you're silent for a while. 

“So you're suddenly trusting me again?” you ask dryly. 

Minho takes a moment to answer. “Minjun does…that tells me everything I should need to know,” he says quietly. “I've been an asshole, okay? I know I was. Once I'm better…can we talk? Really talk?” he asks timidly. 

You sigh softly, rubbing your face. “Where is he?” 

“He's with Lix,” he tells you, heart racing in his chest as you didn't answer his question. 

"Get some rest, Minho. We'll sort everything else out later," you reply, your voice a soothing balm to Minho’s frayed nerves. Shit, he missed you. 

“Thank you,” he says, tears burning in his eyes. 

“Just…take care, okay? Your little boy needs you,” you say quietly. 

“I will.” 

PART ONE | PART THREE

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[whorefordean]

Hi if it's not to much trouble could you do unrequited love prompt 2 with JJ Mayback

just having fun || j.m

wc: 1.1k

warnings: jj gaslights, mentions of jj’s abuse, cursing

prompt: “it’s tiring. loving you while you love her.”

a/n: thank you for the request!! i did change the prompt a bit (“it’s tiring watching you fall in love with…”) um im not sure how i feel about this one but i do know that it took everything in me not to turn it into a rafe fic where reader somehow ends up with him… anyways i hope you enjoy.

you watched as jj doubled over laughing with kiara. the familiar ache that lived in your chest had been extremely active recently. jj and kiara had gotten a lot closer when you guys got stranded on the island. poguelandia, it had been deemed. it was meant to be your escape. your freedom. in reality, it had just been a hard fucking time.

there were some enjoyable moments. like when jj actually acted like he was your boyfriend instead of drooling over kiara. lately, it seemed like he’d forgotten that you were the one he claimed to be in love with.

you stood up from the log you had been sitting on and decided to go talk to sarah and cleo for advice. you approached the girls with a small smile and slowly sat down beside them.

“i need advice,” you blurted out. the girl’s looked at each other in confusion.

“we are on an island with no rules, no parents, and no worries. what’s got you so bothered?” sarah asked with concern. you sighed, shoulders slumped. you gave them the rundown, explaining how jj had been acting recently.

“i wanna say it’s because we’re stuck here, but it’s been like this for a while. i feel like i’ve been fighting for his attention our entire relationship,” you spoke truthfully. it was something you had just now come to terms with. his relationship with kie. they had always been close, and it didn’t bother you before. kie had always respected your relationship with jj, never pushing any boundaries that would make you uncomfortable.

“have you mentioned this to jj?” cleo asked, leaning back on her hands.

“once, a few weeks after we started getting serious. i asked if he had any feelings for kiara. he laughed and just shrugged it off. said i was looking too far into something that wasn’t there,” you shrugged, now realizing just how bad it sounded.

“can i be brutally honest?” sarah asked. you nodded, indicating for her to continue.

“i think you should just break up with him now. you need to make sure that you don’t get hurt any worse than you already have. if you stay with him, you’ll just get more attached and it’s gonna hurt worse later,” sarah voiced her opinions. cleo nodded along in agreement.

“honestly, it sounds like the love was never even there, and i hate to be so brutal about it. but if he cared, he would’ve listened the first time you told him you were uncomfortable,” cleo added, earning a hum of approval from sarah.

you sighed, feeling a little bit of relief that you weren’t crazy. you didn’t tell them that you were planning to break up with jj beforehand, not wanting to be talked out of it. But it was reassuring, you guess, hearing your feelings on such an unfortunate situation get validated.

you thanked the girls for listening and the advice, then excused yourself. you slowly made your way over to jj and kiara, who were still deep in conversation. you cleared your throat. kiara noticed you first, smiling brightly up at you in greeting. you returned the smile, genuinely, before gesturing towards jj.

“hey, can i steal you for a few minutes, jj,” it came out as a statement, leaving little room for jj to decline, though, he always had the option to walk away. he nodded and stood from his spot with kie before following into step behind you. he watched you curiously as you led him away from your friends to a more private area. the two of you walked in silence for a few minutes before you finally stopped and turned to face jj.

“i’m breaking up with you,” you spoke evenly, allowing no emotion to filter into your words. you stood with your shoulders squared and your head held high. he laughed. he fucking laughed. not just a small chuckle, either. full blown cackling.

you stared at him in disbelief as anger surged through your body.

“wow, okay. fuck you, jj,” you scoffed as you turned to walk away. jj composed himself, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“wait. are you serious?,” jj spoke, resting his hand on your arm.

“yeah, jj. it’s tiring watching you fall in love with kie, and i just-” you started to explain, shrugging his hand off of you.

“no, that’s not - you seriously thought we were dating?” jj asked, genuinely curious.

you stared at him in disbelief. your eyebrows furrowed, and your jaw dropped open just slightly. you exhaled sharply and crossed your arms over your chest. you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to calm down.

“my mistake, jj. i thought it was safe to assume that when you told me you were in love with me that you were actually in love with me. trust me, i won’t make that mistake again,” you spewed angrily. you were embarrassed. you turned on your heel and walked away from your ex whatever. jj quickly rushed to catch up with you, not completely done with this conversation.

“how was i supposed to know that you thought we were exclusive?” jj asked while throwing his arms up. you stopped dead in your tracks, causing him to run into you.

“jj, what the fuck would you call this?” you questioned, gesturing between the two of you. your blood was boiling with rage, and you were about to explode.

“i thought we were just having fun with each other!” jj shouted back in annoyance.

“why would i introduce you as my boyfriend to my fucking parents if we were just having fun, jj,” you asked rhetorically. jj said nothing as he rolled his eyes at you and crossed him arms defensively over his chest.

“you’re a fucking joke, jj. jesus fucking christ. honestly, i shouldn’t be surprised. i forgot that the only role models you had growing up just taught you how to treat other people like shit,” you barked angrily. that was too far, you know, but you’re too far gone to give a damn. you’ll face the guilt later, but it feels good right now.

“what the fuck, y/n!” jj yelled at you in disgust. he had trusted not only you but the other pogues with the knowledge of how his father treated him, and you had trust betrayed him.

“feels like shit, huh? betrayal stings like a bitch,” you spat. you turned around and rushed away from him, lifting your hand in a silent fuck you to the man standing behind you.

you were so desperate to get off this island that you were half tempted to start swimming back to kildare. even if you didn’t last very long in the ocean, you were sure that sharks would’ve been better company than jj maybank.

[kelcemenow]

Home.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 751

Warnings Just a super fluffy one!

Thank you for your request @princessmermaid1289! I had a blast writing this, anything that errs on the side of 'normal relationshippy stuff' really speaks to me! "I was wondering if I could get a Travis one where the reader and Travis move in together"

"Why do you keep your ketchup in the refrigerator?" You shouted through to the living room where Travis was reclined on the couch.

"What?"

You leaned your head further out, "Ketchup. Refrigerator. Why?"

Travis breathed a laugh, "I think it tastes better when it's cold."

You made your way back into the living room, falling back onto the couch next to Travis, a large bowl of popcorn in your hands, "That's weird."

"I think it's weird that you eat popcorn with ketchup on, cold or not."

You popped a couple of pieces into your mouth before offering the bowl to Travis, who wrinkled his nose whilst he searched Netflix for your movie choice of the evening.

"Fine. More for me." You shrugged and settled the bowl in your lap.

The rain began to hit against the windows with some force, making you narrow your eyebrows.

"You okay, baby?" Travis asked as he selected a movie, placing the television remote on the arm of the sofa.

You sighed, "I hate driving in the rain...and in the dark."

Travis pursed his lips, "I'll drive you home."

You shook your head, "No, honestly baby, it's fine. It's really far for you to go there and back. Besides, I need to get used to doing it sometime."

Travis placed his arm around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer to him, "Why don't you just stay here again?"

"I'd love to but I have a client super early in the morning. Plus, I don't have any of my stuff here."

Travis traced circles on your bare shoulder, his fingers dancing around your skin, "Maybe you should start leaving some of your things here. Or maybe we buy you 2 of everything so you always have stuff here. I'll clear a couple of drawers in my dresser, make some space in the bathroom..." He trailed off as he looked around the room.

"You'd do that for me?" You mouth grew into a huge smile.

Travis looked at you with his bright, twinkling eyes, "Of course." He smiled and kissed your forehead tenderly.

You lifted your head and pressed a kiss into his lips before turning towards the television screen, "Ooh, it's starting!" You looked around before moving your popcorn bowl off of your lap, "Oh shoot, I left my drink in the kitchen."

You started to lift yourself from the couch when Travis placed a hand on your knee, stopping you, "Hey, I'll get it for you."

You relaxed in your seat, throwing Travis a wink as you lifted your knees up onto the couch, tucking them underneath the blanket. You watched as your 6 foot 5 boyfriend strolled into the kitchen to retrieve your glass of orange soda. There was a slight silence before he appeared in the doorway, his brow furrowed.

"What's up?"

Travis stared down at the floor, "Move in with me."

Your jaw dropped open and you let out a small laugh, "What?"

"I'm serious." His eyes met yours as he approached you, "When I'm with you, I'm so happy. And when you're not here, well, it sucks. I just want to spend as much time with you as possible and to live with you and have a home with you would be so perfect."

You moved to the edge of the sofa as you watched Travis' hopeful expression as he spoke. He reached out and held onto both of your hands, lowering himself onto his knees so he was face-to-face with you.

You chewed your lip with thought, "I'd have to move my business here."

"I'll help you with anything you need, baby. I could make an office space here...or wherever you want. And I have enough contacts in the events industry to get the ball rolling in KC for you."

Your eyes danced as you weighed up your options, feeling excited and nervous at the same time.

"So? What do you say?"

You placed your hands on Travis' cheeks, "I say...I want to have a home with you!"

Travis leapt up and collided his lips with yours, pushing you back down onto the sofa. He climbed on top of you and caressed your face, pressing gentle but passionate kisses onto your mouth.

He pulled back and took a few breaths, an animated grin on his face, "I love you so much, baby."

"I love you too. Now, can you get my orange soda, please?"

Travis laughed and hauled himself onto his feet, dancing his way back to the kitchen with happiness.

______________________________________________________________

He's just so cute, right? We can all agree on that! I've got more requests getting posted over the next couple of days so send anything in that you want! And if you want to be added to my Taglist so you don't miss anything, just let me know!

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[glamaphonic]

Just curious, because I love your Richonne takes.....so beside the obvious ptsd angle, do you think Rick dove into the whole Jessie situation because she was the easier choice. I mean yes she came with baggage lol but in my mind she was safer in that maybe he didn't WANT to acknowledge his growing feelings for Michonne because 1. He wasn't sure she felt the same way or convinced himself she didn't. And 2. He didn't want to jeopardize her relationship with his Carl whose happiness was most important to him always....?

For me, personally, Rick comes right up to the point of bringing his feelings for Michonne to consciousness in 5x16, then pulls back again (at her perceived rejection imo!) and doesn't let himself go there again until they're all safe and the world stops screaming in his face (as Gimple once put it).

So, honestly, no, while I think it's a valid enough reading and I understand why people lean towards it given how they fumbled the Jessie storyline (esp in 6A). I mostly think it was just the PTSD.

The Jessie thing, from the moment they meet, is so inextricably connected to this mental breakdown that he's actively having for the entire length of their acquaintance that suggesting that he's deliberately choosing to pursue her as a safer option v Michonne is almost giving it too much intention for me? Bcs like, I'm not particularly convinced he was ever actively pursuing a relationship with her at all. Everything he does wrt her is so completely consumed by this weird miserable guilt and PTSD driven almost fugue state that it becomes difficult to divine any specific intentions towards her at all.

He fixates on her because she reminds him of Lori and she and her kids are in danger. He seems to feel some sort of obligation/responsibility to them after Pete is dead. But does he have any actual plans there? Does he intend to have an actual relationship with her? Were they gonna date? Was he going to move her and her kids in with him, Michonne, and his kids? Or was he just sad and working through some shit?

Not a fair comparison, though it's one that Rick implies himself, but we see how he goes about pursuing a relationship with Michonne. We see the absolute crystal clear intention and commitment from moment one. And obviously Rick and Michonne's relationship is the actual love story whereas his relationship with Jessie is a plot device. But the Jessie thing exists in this strange weightless way in the narrative and part of that is the extremely compacted timeframe (he knew her for legit two weeks lol) and part of it is definitely owed to the writing failing at adapting something that no longer really worked in the narrative that the show had already committed to so they just quarantined it away from everything else, and especially away from Michonne and Rick's relationship with her, and hoped no one would notice.

Anyway, I'm rambling at this point and I'd have to do a rewatch of those eps to form a more coherent argument here. But yeah, in short, I think, largely by the specific design of the writers, Michonne didn't really have much of anything to do with the Jessie thing at all. It would've made more sense on every level if she did, and the fact that she doesn't is both comically contrived and heavily contributes to the Jessie storyline amounting to nothing but a weird and incoherent blip that no one ever thinks about again. But it is what it is!

[captain-mj]

If it's not been requested yet, I'd adore another chapter of thr wolf Shifter AU.

I can't get enough of Soap and Ghost's dynamic in it!.

Two things! First, I did some research but I could not figure out where honeysuckles are native to so just assume they live in a country they do. Second, right after Ghost's reward, huge trigger warning for sexual exploitation.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“I also think I should be rewarded for my good behavior.”

Rewarded?

Soap reeled. “Reward?”

Ghost purred and there was no denying what Ghost was talking about. Soap sat in his lap, able to feel how hard he was. Ghost’s entire body was solid though and Soap felt himself flush all over. 

“Yes. Reward. I believe I deserve one.” Ghost was grinning a little and Soap noticed his teeth for the first time. He hadn’t smiled without the muzzle before. They were sharp and clearly made to tear. It was one of the few things about Ghost that looked well taken care of. Made sense, broken teeth means they can’t fight as well. They were a pretty white color. 

Soap weighed his options. He really doubted Ghost would force him to do anything. Yeah, he had nothing to say he wouldn’t but he had nothing to say the contrary either. Ghost didn’t seem like a bad person to him. And maybe that was a tad naive of him. But Ghost was also attractive. Clearly of sound mind. Soap was single. 

“Alright.” He leaned against him and Ghost adjusted to hold him better. “And what would you like your reward to be?”

Ghost was fast. It was an undeniable fact about him. He pinned Soap by his throat, Careful Not to put an ounce of unneeded pressure. Just enough to make it clear he was going to stay down. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Ghost smiled and his eyes were shining. 

Soap’s heart sped up until he got lightheaded. He watched Ghost lean down, giant teeth bared. Ghost grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it, even though it was clear that this was annoying him. Instead of tearing the clothes, he took a great deal of effort to make sure they were folded and set to the side before returning his attention towards Soap. 

Weirdly, the effort made Soap even hornier. 

Ghost kissed him deeply and grabbed one of Soap’s hands. He put it to the collar and Soap instinctively grabbed it. They panted against each other when Ghost pulled back from the kiss. 

Soap grabbed his face gently. “Alright. Yeah, I think you deserve that reward.”

Ghost grinned and shoved Soap’s head up so he could get to his throat. He bit him hard, making indents in his flesh. His hand moved down, roughly moving him around and trying to get to his hole. 

“Simon. I have lube in my drawer. We’re not wild animals.” Soap cuffed his ear lightly. Ghost quickly nodded and pulled away. 

Fuck, he was attractive. The scars littering his chest were more than a little intriguing. Some of them weren’t from fights. Too straight and precise like he had surgery done. 

Soap was never going to let anything happen to him again. 

Simon was His Ghost. 

Ghost shoved Soap’s legs to his chest and then over his shoulders so he could have better access to him. Now that his fingers were slick with lube, he gently pushed one in, taking great care not to hurt him. It was sweet, how much effort he was putting in despite the almost frantic way he kept looking at Soap. Like he wanted to eat him alive and gnaw on his bones. 

Soap groaned when he pushed his second finger in without much warning. Ghost stopped immediately and nosed at his jaw line, placing wet kisses all over the area almost as if in an apology. 

“Easy. Been a few days.”

“I know. You always came home stinking of his cologne.”

“Make you jealous?”

“No.” Ghost spoke it honestly. He didn’t care what Soap did. He didn’t care before and even after they had sex, he wouldn’t care afterwards. As long as he had a place to stay and was collared, he was happy. 

Very. 

He crooked his fingers and heard Soap moan properly. 

Happy. 

Ghost listened to those little moans and there was a clawing desperation. He wanted more. His fingers twisted and spread and Soap moaned again, cock twitching 

“Feels so good.” Soap smiled at him. “Glad you’re being careful with your nails.” 

Ghost nodded and shoved in deeper, digging his finger tips right into his sweet spot. Soap whimpered at his vision filled with stars. He had been expecting Ghost to be sloppy. Pent up. Maybe a little feral but who could blame him. This felt awfully targeted. A level of experience there with how well he had Soap hurtling towards his orgasm. 

Soap thought of stopping him, but he was usually good for a couple of rounds and he was sure Ghost could feel the way he tightened around his fingers, tears starting to stream down his face. “Fucking hell you’re good with those.” He was doing something, moving his fingers slightly out of sync so one was always pressing right fucking there and the others were going as deep in him as he could. 

Soap came so hard his vision went white. He felt Ghost’s tongue licking over his abs before he even stopped. His fingers tangled in his hair as he felt him withdraw his fingers to finish lapping up the mess. 

Ghost pulled his legs apart so he could situate himself between them. Without giving Soap a moment to come down from the feeling, he was pushing into him. Slow and steady luckily because Soap was immediately hitting his shoulders for him to stop. Which Ghost quickly did. 

“I used plenty of lube. Are you okay?” Ghost hummed, sounding horribly nonchalant. Soap felt amazing. So tight it almost hurt and wonderfully hot. 

Ghost on the other hand… “You’re so big.” Soap mumbled. “Just your fucking head is in and you’re too big. I can’t fit…” He reached down, stroking the part of Ghost’s cock that wasn’t inside. Fucking hell, his hand barely fit around it and he was so long. “I-”

Ghost leaned over him. His grin was dangerous and feral and predatory. “I could fuck your thighs if you really think you can’t fit it. But…” He slid in just another inch and Soap’s legs were shaking. “You feel so fucking good. Please…”

Soap panted softly and forced himself to relax. “Slow. Be fucking careful with me.” 

Ghost kissed his ankle that was still on his shoulder, keeping eye contact as he kept pushing in. He watched him carefully to look for any signs it was really hurting him. 

Soap whined and groaned, but it didn’t hurt as much as he expected. Ghost had been very thorough in his prep. He grabbed one of Soap’s hands and put it to his stomach so he could feel the bulge in his stomach. 

“See. You fit me.” Ghost leaned down to kiss his shoulder before sinking his teeth right into him.

Soap moaned breathlessly. “Jesus Christ.” 

Ghost kissed him nice and soft. “Tell me when I can move, okay? Don’t want to ruin you just yet.”

Soap closed his eyes. “You’re too good at this dirty talk.” He moaned softly when Ghost moved the slightest bit. It was careful, but it was an intense feeling. After a moment, he grabbed Ghost’s face. “You can move.”

Ghost wasted no time in doing so. There was so much care behind it but it was relentless. The thrusts just soft enough it didn’t feel like Soap was going to rip to shreds, but firm. Forceful. Hitting all the right buttons. His legs started to shake again. 

Ghost just couldn’t get over how tight Soap was. Every movement got him deeper into his warm hole. Watching Soap’s stomach as it bulged from him going in and out. He wanted to ruin him. Wanted to just fuck him with reckless abandon. This was his reward after all. 

But he didn’t want it to end too soon and he didn’t want Soap to hurt afterwards. He always felt guilty when they hurt afterwards. 

So Ghost took it slow. Carved out a space inside Soap’s body like he could crawl into his ribcage and live there. Soap clawed at his back as he kept going, sobbing in pleasure and wrapping his legs tight around his waist. 

“So Good. You’re so good. Fucking hell, feels too good.” Soap babbled in his ear. Occasionally it was just a string of Scotts that Ghost did not have the knowledge nor the coherency to translate. It felt like Soap was trying to squeeze his soul out of him. 

He felt Soap getting close. The tell tale signs the same as before. Harsher breathing. His body fluttering around Ghost’s cock. 

Ghost didn’t stop. He didn’t change anything, the same relentless pace as Soap came a second time. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, how long can you go?” Soap groaned, staring at the ceiling as he continued to take. Tears were streaming down his face, now from overstimulation. It was an addicting type of pain. 

Ghost pulled out and flipped Soap over, putting him on his knees with his face pressed to the pillows. One hand stayed firmly on his stomach so he could feel his own cock pumping in and out of him. Soap’s hand stayed on top of it, pressing down slightly. The bedroom was one of the few places where Ghost always had power. And he was planning on using it. He fucked him harder, chasing his own orgasm. 

Soap came again, right before he did. The poor thing was a mess, sobbing and gripping the sheets. His eyes were in the back of his head and he shook when Ghost pulled out.

Ghost grabbed a handful of hair and pulled his head up. “You okay?”

Soap hummed in response, drooling a little. Ghost felt himself getting hard again and decided to go ahead and do what he talked about earlier. He held Soap tight, sliding his cock between his lube and cum covered thighs. His arms wrapped around his chest to keep him secure as he rolled his hips over and over again. 

Soap whined. “How?? How??” He pressed his thighs tighter together so it would feel better for Ghost. 

Ghost hummed. “Had a lot of sex.”

“While you were in a dog fighting ring??”

Ghost nodded against his back. “Yeah. This was the reward for winning fights.” He didn’t notice how quiet Soap got from that. He just continued to chase his pleasure until he came again. With a light kiss to his shoulder, he relaxed again. “In a moment, we’ll take a shower.” 

Ghost glanced down, noticing how bloody the bite he gave Soap was. Then he looked at his legs, still occasionally twitching from aftershocks. 

“Nevermind. A bath.” He kissed his ear. 

Soap nodded. “Sex was your reward?”

“Yep. Sometimes my punishment too. When I was rewarded, I get more control. Punished, less control. Don’t worry. I never hurt anyone. Or forced anyone. I always made sure they were okay.” Ghost hated the idea of Soap seeing him as a monster. He wasn’t. He was good. 

Soap heard the edge of desperation in his voice. “I believe you. You’re a good boy. I know you didn’t do anything.” He pet his hair and Ghost calmed down and kissed his hand. 

Ghost did eventually scoop Soap up and carried him to the bathroom. He ran a bath and got in with him, tracing him. Soap, besides the bite, didn’t have any other marks. Ghost hadn’t even left bruises. 

On the other hand, Soap had done a number on Ghost’s back. It was shredded. Every time he moved, he felt the sting of them. 

Ghost found he really liked that. 

Soap leaned against him, letting Ghost clean him gently. It felt good. Sweet and domestic. 

Ghost littered his shoulder with kisses until he got to the bite that was still bleeding sluggishly. He licked it clean. “I’ll bandage it when we get out.”

Soap touched it and winced. “That’s going to scar.”

Ghost huffed out a small laugh. “Maybe. It’s a nice thought. You being mine the way I’m yours.” 

Soap faltered for the second time tonight. He touched the collar again. After a moment of thought, he pulled his hand away from it. “I don’t own you.” 

Ghost nodded. “I know.”

“I’m not like them.”

“I know.”

“I don’t own you.”

Ghost continued to wash him. Once he considered both of them clean, he put Soap on the sink and bandaged the bite. “This is proof I should wear a muzzle.”

“You didn’t do this just to prove a point did ya?”

“No, not at all.” Ghost hoped that would make it worse. He was a wild animal. It was better to take safety precautions. 

Soap held him rather closely that night. His hand on Ghost’s chest. Ghost thought of pushing him away. They did not cuddle. But Soap had such a soft look on his face. He couldn’t tell him no. 

So they cuddled. And it felt nice. 

-

Ghost woke up to hear Soap on the phone with someone. Whatever they were talking about, it sounded important. His brain just couldn’t figure it out. 

It didn’t sound important enough for him to get out of the warm and comfy bed. It was bliss. 

Soap came back in and kissed his forehead. “Do you want to go out?”

“No.”

“We’re going out anyway. Just to the park. Fewer people. Great outdoors. Just for you to stretch your legs.” Soap patted him. 

Ghost pushed his face into the pillows and groaned. “I don’t want to.” 

“I’ll give you another reward when we get home.” 

Ghost got up immediately. He got dressed and handed Soap the muzzle. 

Soap smiled. “Would you be willing to try something?”

“You’re not tricking me into taking the collar off.” 

“No, not that! Instead of a muzzle, what about a mask?” He took out a mask and put it on Ghost slowly. It covered the bottom half of his face perfectly. “There. You won’t tear the fabric will you?” 

Ghost nodded slowly. “No. I would never.” He wouldn’t. He’d be a good boy and keep the fabric over his face. It felt nice. Really nice. It was so much more comfortable. 

Soap smiled and it was blinding. “Good boy.” He ruffled his hair. “I’ll play rock music in the car for you.” 

Ghost nodded and trailed after him like a dog as Soap rambled on.

“I was thinking later, we could decorate some. Remember, you don’t have to wear them. But I want you to be comfortable.”

Ghost nodded. “Okay…” 

The ride to the park was unremarkable. Soap had set up a playlist of rock from around the time Ghost had been taken that Ghost really enjoyed. He hummed along to all of them and tapped the notes, trying to remember how to do so. 

“I played guitar.” 

Soap looked over in interest. “You did? How long?”

“My dad insisted I learn to play. So from when I was 8 to when I joined the army at 19.”

Soap nodded. “Nice. Did you like it?”

“Loved it. One of the few things my dad did right.” He smiled at him. 

Soap patted his shoulder. “Maybe I can look for a guitar for you. May have to relearn a few things, but I’m sure you could figure it out.”

Ghost nodded. “I could… look into it.” 

Soap pulled in to the parking lot and led Ghost to the water. It was a nice place. Full of thick forests. 

Ghost looked around, breathing in. The place smelled wonderful. He tilted his head and took a deep breath. 

Soap noticed that Ghost’s hips moved slightly. Back and forth like he was trying to wag his tail. He thought he was just so cute. They walked together and it was like a weight lifted off Ghost’s shoulders. 

Ghost listened to something that Soap couldn’t hear. The squirrels in the trees and the mice running along the ground. He kicked his shoes off and felt the grass. His hand intertwined with Soap’s. 

Ghost took a deep breath before leading Soap. “Knew. There’s a honeysuckle bush.” He managed to grab a few flowers and handed them to Soap. “A lady taught me this trick. I didn’t even realize they were native where we are.” He showed Soap how to separate the flower to get the liquid out of it. Ghost grabbed Soap firmly. “Open your mouth.”

Soap immediately opened his mouth and let Ghost put the nectar on his tongue. He closed his mouth and swallowed. 

“Sweet?”

“Yeah. That’s really good. Where did you say you learned this?”

“I don’t know where I was, but I was there with a bunch of people. One of the ladies got close to a guard somehow. He would let her go out occasionally. She brought some of the flowers and showed me how to do it.” Ghost set up another flower while he spoke and offered it to Soap who took immediately. 

Soap thought it was sweet. But the look on Ghost’s face, the child like excitement at Soap enjoying collecting flowers with him. 

It was hard to look away. Like watching an eclipse. Even if it hurt his eyes, he’d take it. 

“Can you show me how? I want to give one to you.” 

Ghost blinked in surprise before nodding. “So what you do is….”

[tobiasdrake]

Today's the day. To the House of Change.

It's exactly the size that I thought. You can see it from town, Isa. Pay attention to things.

Was that in doubt? Did we go on this entire quest to find the Orbs without anyone ever checking if the door is even locked?

There is a non-zero chance that we are all clowns. This does not bode well for our chances today.

It's a good thing that magical keys levitate because I do not envy our chances of physically reaching those upper locks.

In any case, no going back now.

Oh, so THAT'S a Sadness.

...is not a thing I should be saying this deep into our adventure but. Like. You don't understand. It was lemon-flavored. I accept the consequences of my possibly-hallucinatory actions.

I'm so fast, I've already thrown Scissors before anyone even thinks of throwing Rock.

...which. They then. Proceed to do.

...

I think I just figured out why I'm always the one on chore duty.

Unfair that she gets two different types but she is the Chosen One main character of our epic fantasy adventure. She gets Chosen One privileges.

You mean the fact that they're already throwing Scissors and we haven't even started attacking yet?

...

Oh, shit, does that mean they're faster than me? >_< Odile, this is your fault. You made us slow down. I need to hurry up and throw Scissors now!

Trick question. Nothing beats Scissors because it is the superior sign. Cuts through Paper. Cuts through Pillow. It would be weak to Rock but Rock has the Infatuated status ailment so it has a 50% chance of losing its turn each round.

Also the Chosen One is half-Scissors so. Like. Scissors's superiority is unmistakable.

That's honestly a good idea. Item Duty is perfect for the tagalong kid.

Nah, I get that. When I was younger, I'd drink bad coffee on purpose because that way the coffee would make me more alert. I don't do that anymore because life should be spent enjoying things, but the logic holds all the same.

Is it bad if this is my favorite thing of the items I've picked up in here? There are a lot of uses for going ding-ding. Entertainment. Distraction. Entertainment. Ruining stealth missions. And entertainment.

I have an established track record of putting questionable things in my mouth. She is right to fear me.

Hey, that would have worked if you hadn't stopped me! Guaranteed stat increases across the board with only a moderate chance of heart explosion.

So the group can't see the Star. Probably because they haven't ingested one, so they're not gifted with the same hallucinations that I am. Good to know.

Oh cool! Time to do my job as the Trap Pincushion. Here we go!

...

...

Well, here are the possibilities.

1 - There's no traps. 2 - The traps are so cleverly hidden that even my best Trapfinding rolls couldn't locate them. 3 - I'm so fast and so good at my job that I disarmed all of the traps before even I was able to notice.

Personally, I'm leaning towards Option 3. It's easily the most plausible, as well as a valuable reminder of the important assets I bring to this team.

Is it possible that somebody died here for reasons unrelated to traps, and it simply developed a reputation? Like, someone dropped dead of a heart attack or something? And they were just like, "Oh, don't go in there, that's the Death Corridor"?

It's cool. You can be a little high-strung but that's just part of your charm. Let's all just take this as a valuable lesson in not giving too much weight to eavesdropped rumors and--

NO FUCK YOU THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A PUN

Oh god, I died a clown.

[jmrothwell]

OMG ALL THOSE PROMPTS ARE SO GOOD (and I finally caught one of your lists before it's six days old lol). Laying on the floor so hard you wish they’d invent lying down 2 is an Alex Mood to me.

Maybe the chairs on the ceiling were less of a stylistic choice and more of a storage thing. After all that one was hung fairly low and if Alex knocked it, it would swing. Threatening to fall right on top of him.

He didn’t really like the thought of that. But it always occurred to him every time he caught even the slightest glimpse of the polished wood hanging from the ceiling. 

Perhaps he has a death wish since Alex was now laying on the studio floor below them. The steepled ceiling, fairy lights, and new potted plants hanging closer to the ceiling added a surreal level he wasn't really expecting.

Is this what Alice in Wonderland felt like falling down that hole? All disoriented and floaty? 

Which, honestly, he really shouldn’t be feeling all floaty like this. Not with how itchy this particular patch of carpet is. Another train of thought he would really rather not venture down, but is unstoppable now. 

Why was it itchy? He knows it gets regularly cleaned out here. It’s on the rotating cleaning roster. Though considering the last three individuals who were in charge of it were Reggie, Luke, and Carlos and Alex isn’t sure if any of them would have even considered the rugs. 

“Comfy?” Flynn’s voice came out of nowhere, quickly followed by her face leaning over his. Upside down. Her braids reach out towards him. That does not help him stop feeling like Alice. 

“Not really.” Alex says simply. Focus split between talking to her, keeping his breathing steady, and not spiraling into one of the many chasms his brain felt the need to create for no damn reason. 

Flynn hums noncommittally before disappearing from his view. Though she doesn’t go far, he can hear her settling on the floor next to him. “There are better places to lay down.”

“I am aware.”

“Do you like feeling uncomfortable?”

He can’t help the huff from his throat. He doesn’t like it, no. He can’t ever seem to escape it, just has to settle for which discomfort was more acceptable and today that means, “It’s quieter here.”

“Wow.” Flynn says through a disbelieving laugh. “What kind of chaos are they up to if the studio is the quiet option?”

Alex shrugs though he’s not sure if she can see it. “Don’t know about now but when I left, Carlos was unsuccessfully showing Luke something called Guitar Hero, and Reggie had been ranting for nearly an hour about how the Star Wars on the Disney app thing was completely wrong.”

Flynn quietly giggles, “Where was Julie in all this?”

An uneasy heaviness twists in Alex’s chest with the question. Or rather with the answer he gives, “She and Ray went to the Wilson’s.”

“Ah,” Flynn thankfully leaves the topic there. “This is the weirdest ceiling to lay under.”

“Right? Like, do you know why they hung the chairs on the ceiling?” 

“Not really,” Flynn says but doesn’t really sound sure herself. “But is it weird that I want to see if there are weirder ceilings out there?”

It’s the first train of thought in a while Alex feels sort of willing to wander down. “How would we do that?”

“Dear sweet Alex,” The statement and her haughty tone both make him slightly regret his decision. “That is what Google is for.” 

“Okay, please never call me that again.”

“Happily.”

He finally sat up and could finally see Flynn laying down on the floor. Her head next to where his was but feet pointing in the opposite direction. 

She smiles up at him, “Want to go see what we can find?”

“Yeah, all right.” He says with another shrug, following her to the couch. Tries to keep the thought splintering in check as he watches her use her phone in ways he’d only ever seen in sci-fi until a few months ago.

Admittedly, there are definitely some bizarre ceilings out in the world. But the Molina’s seem to be the only ones they can find so far who have chosen to mount chairs to theirs.

[lustspren]

STARBOY EP 1. The Hills ft Sunmi

length: 8.2k words.

Lee Sunmi & Male Reader.

genres: smut, oral, mistress, creampie, rough sex. ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

2 months have passed since you made the decision that would mean one of the biggest turning points in your life. You didn't feel good or bad about it, it was just the only option you had at the time; of course, you could go out on the street and start looking for job vacancies like crazy, but it wouldn't be the easiest thing, right?

Plus, what's better than getting paid to fuck?

The first weeks had been boring; nothing out of the ordinary had happened other than a couple of jobs with some shy pretty girls, but it still wasn't enough, since Heejin was in charge of making sure that you both didn't starve. But like everything made with love and dedication, it began to turn into a snowball that went down a mountain; after a month your jobs multiplied, and you had gone from having a client every two weeks to having 3 to 5 per week. Of course, this meant significant economic growth for you for the simple fact that the more reputation and good reviews you had, the more you could take for each job, and of course, a relief for your roommate, who was slowly descending into madness from all the bills she had to pay on her own.

Your growth was not only reflected in the economic aspect, but also in your status on the allegedly illegal platform of gigolos in which you were. Like any service platform, the reputation was based on a review system, stars and anonymous opinions of the clients, and to your surprise, by the time you were two months old, you were averaging almost five stars, which, according to Heejin, was a rare thing to see on that network. Honestly, you didn't expect such success, since you didn't exactly consider yourself an Adonis in bed, but apparently there was something about you that all your clients always liked without exception, of course you weren’t going to complain, it was a difficult opportunity to ignore, and you would make sure to squeeze it one hundred percent.

Everything was going uphill for you, you had bought a new television, a new phone, and many other luxuries that with your previous job would have been impossible for you to buy, you could even afford to give Heejin a lot of generous gifts that, of course, were rewarded with a good night of fucking.  You felt happy and comfortable, and you could tell that your partner was too, there was nothing more important to you than that.

It was exhausting, yes, but money was everything to you, besides, what work is not exhausting?

Your week had been pretty busy; you had 4 clients, and on top of that you had to accompany Heejin to do some errands in the city center almost every day until today, Saturday. You both arrived at the apartment around noon, and the first thing you did was throw yourself face down on the couch, with exhausted legs and your eyes heavy with sleep.

"God, you're so dramatic, we just went to the hairdresser," Heejin said, shaking her head as she walked straight into the kitchen.

"Yes, but to go to the hairdresser we had to walk all over the mall, and before we got there, walk for two blocks just because you couldn't find a store with nice clothes," you answered, to see her while she drank a glass of water, "Oh, and not only that, you made me get up at 7am!"

"You need to get up early and do some exercise, don't be a wimp," you wanted to throw a cushion at her, but deep down you knew she was right.

"Not all of us do 7 damn minutes of planking, some of us are mortal," you settled into the couch, lying on your back with your head resting on an armband.

"Did you say something?” Heejin frowned and tilted her head, “I only hear baby cries." 

"...Fuck you"

"Oh yeah, fuck me" suddenly, a smile and an excited expression formed on her face.

“No”

"Ah come on, don't be mad at me," Heejin came out of the kitchen and walked towards you, to straddle your abdomen, "I'm just kidding, you're not a wimp or a crybaby," she leaned into you and cupped your cheeks with her hands, spreading little kisses all over your face.

You were really trying to look upset, but having Heejin in care bear mode on top of you didn't help much; after a few seconds a smile formed on your face, and with it your whole performance was spoiled.

"There you go, I knew you couldn't resist my love," she said, with the most beautiful eye smile you had ever seen. You could feel your heart completely melting.

"God, I love you, did you know that?"

"Yeah I know. I love you too, wimp," you were about to complain, but you were silenced by the crash of your lips, this time sinking into a slow, loving kiss.

You could have been kissing for a long time, if it wasn't for your phone vibrating with a notification that you knew perfectly well, since you had set a tone exclusively for that. You broke the kiss, turned to the right and grabbed your phone from the coffee table to check it.

"What is it?" Heejin asked, now with her head resting on your chest.

You took a moment to open the app and see the notification; indeed, it was a new job, but…

"No fucking way..."

You froze for a few seconds, and your eyes were lost in nothingness trying to assimilate what you had just read.

"What? Hey!" Heejin shook you a few times to get you out of the trance. "Something bad happened?

"You... just read it," you put the phone in her hand, and Heejin sat on your abdomen to carefully read your client's information.

"HANNAM THE HILL?" she yelled, and then covered her mouth.

"Uhm... that's what it says," you still didn't quite know what to say, Hannam The Hill was the popular name of one of the richest and most luxurious neighborhoods in all of Seoul, where only big celebrities, high-ranking businessmen and maybe gangsters lived. And yes... your client was one of those three.

"You know how big this is, don't you?" Heejin pointed at your phone screen as she looked at you, still impressed, "She’s rich, if she likes you, she will recommend you among her contacts. You can become an escort for millionaire women!"

"What the fuck... I… I'm not ready for that."

"Oh come on! You have nothing to lose, besides, we would be talking about a lot of money."

"You don’t know that."

"Honey, women like her and me will give anything for a good cock, the difference is that I have one for free," Heejin winked at you, "But that's not the point, the point is, you have talent, and if you go with the right mindset, you'll have her in your pocket."

And there you were, again immersed in a choice that could change the course of your life, more difficult and screwed up than the previous one. There hadn't been such a problem last time, after all, they were girls of your same social status, so you felt comfortable and without pressure, but this situation was different; you never imagined having to go to one of the most luxurious neighborhoods in Seoul, to fuck a wealthy woman and take the "risk" of becoming her personal fucktoy. 

Of her, and if Heejin was right, of many more.

<> You asked yourself in your head, without expecting an answer from your subconscious. You were terrified of all the possible scenarios, but it was an opportunity that you couldn't pass up. You had to take a leap of faith. You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, letting out a sigh.

“Agh… fuck it, I’ll do it.”

"Yaaay!" Heejin celebrated with lively applause and a big smile on her face. 

"What if it's a setup to sell me into slavery to Indonesian smugglers?"

Heejin's smile immediately faded, just as her palms stopped in midair.

"I'm going to kick your ass."

"Sorry, I'm just nervous."

"Everything will be alright baby, be positive, okay?" Heejin leaned towards you and caressed your hair affectionately.

"Fine" you gave up with a sigh, giving the girl above you a little peck on the lips.

"By the way, when is the session supposed to be?"

"Uh..." You took your phone from her hand and opened the notification again to see the date, "Fuck, today at 8 pm. I have to get ready."

"Honey, you still have time. Let's just relax a bit," Heejin took the phone out of your hands and put it on the table next to the couch, then snuggled into your chest. You couldn't say no, so you just wrapped your arms around her and took a deep breath, a few minutes later, you both fell asleep.

6 hours later. 7:14PM.

It wasn't something you were proud of, but you were the kind of person who could be in the middle of an earthquake and still need a bucket of cold water to wake you up. This time, the bucket of water was Heejin's constant shaking on your chest.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," she repeated, on an admittedly annoying level as she nudged you.

Seconds later you regained consciousness, until you finally opened your eyes and saw the brown-haired girl with a frown.

"What?"

"You have one hour to get ready and get out of here, hurry up!" she called out, then got up and walked to the kitchen to get a package of sliced bread from one of the shelves.

"Fuck!"

You got up (rather, you fell to the floor) from the couch and ran to the hall, then to the bathroom to take off all your clothes and get into the shower. You weren't sure, but it had possibly been the quickest shower of your life, so much so that you didn't even get to wash your hair properly, so the shampoo and soap were more than enough for you.

When you left the bathroom you immediately entered your room and opened the closet, seriously thinking about how to dress; you couldn't go like a homeless, but you couldn't go too fancy either, in both cases you'd look ridiculous, so you just decided to go with a casual outfit: a white hoodie, black joggers and a pair of sneakers. You also thought about putting on perfume, but the variety you had in your hairdresser wasn't exactly too great; you chose the first one that crossed your hand and you applied enough so that the aroma doesn’t disappear so easily. Ready to go, you walked out to the kitchen to be greeted by the familiar scent of toast.

"Ah, just in time! Your dinner is ready," Heejin said, bringing a plate with two sandwiches to the table along with a glass of apple juice.

"Honey, I can't be late, I have to go fast!" You protested picking up your phone and putting it in your hoodie pocket.

"Oh no, don't even think about it!" she stopped you, as you walked towards the exit, "don't think I'm going to let you go fuck without having dinner, who knows when you'll be back!" her brow furrowed and her fists clenched, you knew it was best to take heed.

You sighed, and then nodded to go sit in front of your plate. The sandwiches were outrageously good, one of the few things Heejin cooked to perfection; ham, cheese, tomato and lettuce, just the way you liked them. You finished in no time, not much more than 5 minutes.

"Now I really have to go," you said as you got up from the table and wiped some breadcrumbs off your pants, "the sandwiches were delicious, thank you so much Hekkie, see ya later" you stood in front of her and gave her a kiss on the forehead, to then begin to walk to the exit.

"Wait!" She stopped you, grabbed your sleeve and turned you around to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, "good luck wimp," then she opened the door behind you, and pushed you out of the apartment. Now you were alone against the world.

Not having a car, the first thing you did was take out your phone to order a taxi, which arrived after about 6 or 7 minutes, by then you were already waiting for it in front of the gate of the building where you lived. You got into the backseat, and as soon as you gave the driver the direction, your way to the hills began.

Seoul at night was a beautiful city, alive, radiant and certainly intimidating, it was very easy to feel small in a place like that, and that's exactly how you felt, especially for the purpose of your trip. During the entire way you were staring into the streets, still trying to figure out if what you were experiencing was a lucid dream or if it was reality. You were completely disconnected from what was happening, you felt the music from the radio far away, buried under 5 floors while you navigated through your thoughts; you were so distracted that it took the driver more than three attempts to get your attention.

"Hey, sir, not to be nosy, but what exactly are you going to do in Hannam The Hill? It's not common to order a taxi to go to that place, normally all its residents go in luxury cars and don't need this kind of service”, the man said, with his eyes on the road.

"Oh, I'm just going to... hmmm, visit a... friend," you weren't so sure how convincing you sounded, but from the driver's face, it seems like not too much.

"Well, consider yourself lucky to have friends like that" he replied with a mischievous tone of voice, followed by a giggle.

You didn't say another word, you just let out a small sigh to sink into your seat.

 -----------

"Here we are, good evening sir," the driver said as he stopped on a street between residential complexes. 

"Thank you, have a good evening too," you said as you got out of the taxi, and seconds later, he was gone, leaving you alone in the nest of vipers.

And yes, you were the mouse, or at least that's how you felt with how intimidating that place looked to you. The change in lifestyle was very noticeable compared to the area where you lived, here all the people looked expensive, wore expensive outfits, went with expensive phones and had expensive cars; the architecture was nothing extravagant, rather, it looked simple, but the large windows of the residential buildings showed why it was such an exclusive area. The air that was breathed was also different, and it wasn’t only because of the height of the hill, but also because of the carefree aura of all the passers-by, they knew that they were rich people with a settled life, that they didn’t have to worry about shitty bosses or shitty salaries. You automatically felt like an intruder.

You were standing on the sidewalk of what you knew was the main street, with a slightly meandering shape that went between the buildings. In front of you was a five-story residential complex in the shape of a small semicircle, with balconies protruding one below the other in a system of levels, all being the same size, they reminded you of the stairs to go up to your apartment; you reckoned at least three more of those to the end of the street; they were the most attractive in the whole place, since the others were ordinary buildings, luxurious, yes, but seen from the sky they could be perfectly located in the center of Seoul.

You could have easily stood still for five more minutes, but the people passing by began to look at you with suspicion, you assumed that it wasn’t normal for an idiot to stay there for so long in a place like that. You took out your phone to look at the exact address of the apartment, you had no idea which of all the buildings it was, so you just started exploring.

Thank the gods, it hadn't been that difficult, you had the number of the building, so it was just a matter of walking for a while until you found the right one; time ended up taking you to one of the buildings on the right row, specifically one that faced the Han River and the beautiful bridges that passed over it, but as expected, you couldn't even get into the hall that easily, since there was a security guard at the gate, the old man wasn't intimidating at all, but it was still an obstacle.

"Excuse me sir, I'm going to the apartment…" you checked your phone for a second, "5, top floor."

The guard looked you up and down and then walked over to you, patting your waist and legs a few times to make sure you weren't carrying a weapon, then turned around, picking up the phone on the wall to dial a number that you assumed was the one from your client's apartment.

"Good night, Miss Lee, here is a man who says is coming to visit you... yes, what is your name, sir?" the guard asked as he looked at you.

"Uh… she knows me as Starboy, Star-boy," you separated the word into syllables, so the guard would repeat it through the phone correctly; you quickly felt embarrassed by the alias, as the man gave you a puzzled look.

"Sssu-taru-boy… Aha… understood, at your service," finally, the guard hung up and nodded for you to come in, "go ahead, sir, have a good night."

"Thank you," you said with a small bow to the man before moving into the hall. You walked straight to the elevator, and pressed the button that would take you to the apartment floor; when the doors opened again, you felt a chill run down your spine, which later evolved into goosebumps all over your body. The door was there, at the end of the wide corridor that seemed to grow longer and longer; you walked slowly, as if the person waiting for you behind that door was a demon straight outta Lucifer's legion (it probably was).

"Okay, focus, you can do this," you murmured to yourself as you stood in front of the beautiful mahogany door, shaking your shoulders to release your nerves, and then, after a few seconds of mental preparation, you pressed the bell.

Not even 5 seconds passed when the green light of the security system installed on the doorknob turned on. The door opened.

And there she was, possibly one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen.

The beauty and class that her aura transmitted was completely out of the ordinary, it captivated all your senses in the best possible way; dark brown hair that reached halfway down her torso, perfectly wavy, shiny, and manicured; a turtleneck dress with long sleeves fitted to her curvy body, whose incredibly sexy legs stood out for their length and how creamy they looked. And her face, for God's sake, you've never seen anything like it. Her eyes were sharp like those of a predator, with an outline that only highlighted how deep her gaze was; you felt intimidated, but from the way she looked you up and down, you soon felt turned on.

"Come in" the woman said in a harsh and commanding tone of voice as she stepped aside.

And that's what you did. You crossed the door frame, to later hear how it closed behind you.

The apartment was fascinating despite how "minimalist" it was, but what caught your immediate attention was the large window that ran from one end of the apartment to the other, giving a beautiful view of the river, the bridges and the city in the distance; unintentionally you went straight to the glass, stunned by the beauty that came from every corner of your eyes.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" her voice behind your left shoulder chilled you.

"Yes... everything looks so different from here... it must be amazing to see something like this every morning."

"Over time you get used to it and it stops being so impressive, but that doesn't stop it from being beautiful," she put a hand on your waist, pulling you a little closer to her, "come on, let's relax a bit."

The moment you turned around, Miss Lee separated from you and walked over to the long L-shaped sofa in the middle of the room.

"Have a seat, please," she said before leaving you alone to go to what you thought was the kitchen. You sat in the middle of the couch and leaned your back on the cushion behind you, which by the way, you felt was more expensive than your entire apartment by itself; in front of you, a coffee table and two single sofas with heart-shaped cushions. You looked up a little more, to admire the huge television fixed perfectly in the middle of a bookcase, which was adorned on both sides with a few portraits, small statues, and… sketches? You leaned forward to take a closer look, realizing that they were sketches of dresses, vests and blouses.

"Looks like you've already noticed my amazing designs," Miss Lee said as she came back with two crystal glasses in one hand, and an ice bucket with a bottle inside.

"Are you a fashion designer?" you asked, while she left the bucket and the glasses on the table.

"Do you think a simple designer can afford this apartment?" she sat next to you, her right elbow on the back of the sofa and her legs crossed one on top of the other. Her posture, her gaze and her tone of voice made you feel small and vulnerable, you knew she was scanning every detail of you.

“Well…”

"No, even though I do designs from time to time, it's not my job, in fact, I'm the one in charge of approving the designers' work."

"Then you are?..."

"Do you know Style Nanda?"

You weren’t a very passionate person about fashion, but you did a little tour of your memories, without going any further, you went to the morning of that same day, when you were in the center of Seoul with Heejin and you visited a mall. Yes, you had a vague memory of the great facade of the brand among all the others, it was pink, and it reminded you of the facade of some Tommy Hilfiger stores.

"Yes?" you finally said.

"CEO."

Well, that made sense.

"Oh wow... Well, you're definitely thirty steps above me."

"We're not here to prove my superiority, we're here for you to fuck me like no one has ever fucked me before," with that sentence, you felt a small tingle from your lower abdomen to your crotch, it was starting. But still, you didn't want to get nervous, you had to keep your composure. You looked into her eyes, holding her intense cat-like gaze for a few seconds.

"I'm sure I won't disappoint you."

"You better not," it was very subtle, but you could tell one of her eyebrows arched slightly, "but well, as much as I'd love to keep talking about myself, would you mind pouring the wine while you tell me why you're doing this?"

You obeyed the order and leaned forward to take the bottle already uncovered from the ice, it was white wine, and it had a name that you couldn't even pronounce out loud: <>, you had no idea what it meant, but from the presentation of the bottle, it also seemed more expensive than your entire apartment.

"Well, long story short, my boss was a fucking bitch and she only fired me because she didn't like me," you began, as you carefully poured the wine into both glasses, "I was a very good employee, and had a good working relationship with my colleagues, but I don't know, I was the only one in my department to be fired."

You put the bottle of wine back in the bucket, and took both glasses to hand one to her. Miss Lee kept her eyes on you, waiting for you to keep counting.

"Then I got home, and my roommate tried to find solutions for me while I hated my life, and I don't remember how we got to that, but, she told me about this platform and how I could get the most out of it thanks to my qualities. "

"Her? Do you live with a girl?"

"Hm? Ah, yes, since 2 years ago, we have become very close."

"Do you fuck her?"

You weren't shy about answering, but the question still took you by surprise.

"Uhm... yes, quite a lot, I'd say."

"I see… so, she recommended the platform to you because of the size of your cock?"

"Not only because of its size, I also know how to use it."

For the first time that night, you could see a very small hint of a smirk on her face.

"Alright then, how about we make a toast to you being here?" she raised her glass to you, and you did the same, causing both glasses to slightly touch 

You both took a sip of your wine, and you were surprised at how delicious it was, with a mix of flavors between pear, apple, lemon, and grapes. You weren't exactly a wine fan, you were more into drinking vodka, but you would definitely give it more chances from now on.

"Well…" Miss Lee put the glass down on the table and then carefully took yours from your hands to do the same, carefully removed her heels, and straddle your lap, her dress slipped up a bit, allowing you to see the black of her panties for a moment, "how about we get started?"

Miss Lee cupped your face with both hands and crashed her lips against yours, melting them in a kiss that from the first moment was slow but full of passion. You sank down a bit on the sofa, leaving her body slightly on top of yours.

"Don't be shy… touch me," she murmured in the middle of the kiss, which she then intensified with the addition of her tongue. You didn't need her to tell you twice; your hands went straight to her waist, pressing her body to yours and then raising her dress to her abdomen, you squeezed her butt hard, and noticed that she was only wearing a thong. With more freedom to move her legs, she gripped her thighs on either side of your body, and began rubbing her crotch against the growing bulge in your pants. 

The sensation of her ass between your fingers was incredible, her flesh was soft and spongy, perfect for squeezing and massaging; but as much as you wanted to grope her ass all night, you also wanted to get a feel of her tits; your hands slid between your bodies to her mounds, giving each one a gentle squeeze, and to your surprise, Miss Lee wasn’t wearing a bra, allowing you to fully feel the softness and size of her tits under your hands. She moaned against your lips and also slid a hand between your bodies, reaching for your erection and returning the favor with a few hard squeezes, then she broke away from the kiss and placed her hands on your shoulders.

"Mmm, such a good kisser, first point to evaluate approved," she said, licking her lips.

Great, now you are also being evaluated.

"Clothes off, now," she ordered before standing up, you obeyed the order immediately, taking off first your shoes, your hoodie, your pants, and lastly, the boxer that enclosed your hard cock, which immediately attracted Miss Lee’s gaze, "Oh my god, it's bigger than the pictures… lay down there, please," she pointed to the longest and widest part of the couch. 

You went where she pointed and laid down, supporting yourself only on your elbows as you watched her unzip her dress and slide it off her body, now fully exposed to you. She was the perfect definition of a fleshy, smooth and curvaceous body, starting from her beautiful tits, which had you drooling just looking at them as she got closer to you.

She walked up to stand in front of your feet and turned around, to slowly slide her thong off her ass and down her legs, giving you your first glimpse of her plump wet pussy, and sure enough, your cock throbbed at the thought that soon you were going to be wrapped by that meat.

Before getting on the couch with you, Miss Lee pressed several switches on the wall until only the lights above you were on, while the rest of the room was dark, giving the encounter a more sexy and intimate touch.

"You better know how to eat pussy… if I'm happy with your work, you'll be rewarded immediately," Miss Lee crawled over you until her tummy was on your face, then turned around, and settled her body so that her pussy was floating inches from your mouth. Little by little she lowered her hips, until finally your face was buried between her soft buttocks, and when you felt her pussy on your lips, you began to use your tongue delicately as a prelude to what was to come; you moved along her slit, making long licks complemented by sensual kisses on her folds; her moans soon became present, they were very subtle, but the deep silence in the room allowed you to hear them easily.

"Mmmm," she moaned against her pursed lips, then rested her hands on your thighs and twisted her hips slightly; with the indication that you were on the right track, you brought your hands to her waist to apply pressure with your fingers, while your tongue varied in strokes and speeds; you were going faster now, and as her sweet nectar seeped from her pussy, your thirst to please her seemed more and more fueled.

It took a little while, but within seconds Miss Lee was grinding her hips against your face, slow at first, but as you increased the pace of your licking at her clit so did her desperation for more pleasure. Her moans were no longer controlled and discreet, now the whole room was full of her beautiful sounds of joy; her nails dug into either side of your hip before she dropped against your body, her tits pressed against your lower abdomen, and you felt her take your hard cock with one hand and shove it into her mouth without any warning.

The sudden feeling of warmth around your cock made you moan, but that didn't stop you. You knew that was the reward for doing a good job, so you doubled your efforts, squeezing her buttocks and eating her pussy like a hungry animal. She moaned around your shaft as she bobbed her head up and down, giving you a perfect messy blowjob that wouldn't last much longer.

"Oh shit, oh shit, that's it, just like that!" she moaned loudly as she pulled your cock out of her mouth, straightening up so she could grind her ass against your face; you were smothering between her buttocks and against her pussy, but you didn't give a damn, you kept licking frantically while Miss Lee used your hair as a prop to move harder.

Not many seconds passed when her moans grew louder, you gave one last effort, reaching for her tits with both hands and giving each one a strong squeeze, igniting the spark that would trigger her orgasm. Her thighs pressed against each side of your face with such force that you felt your skull would explode; she fell forward, gripping to your hips as spasms controlled her. Her juices spilled all over your face, but you scooped up as much as you could with your tongue until her body relaxed, as did the pressure of her thighs against your head.

Regaining her composure, Miss Lee pushed her ass out of your face and turned around again, to straddle your abdomen and lean forward, cupping your chin between her thumb and forefinger.

"Congratulations… you're the first to pass this point, no one has ever eaten my pussy so good," she said quietly, still catching her breath, "you did so well, that you earned the privilege of cumming on my tits."

She placed a kiss on your lips, before sliding down your body and positioning herself between your legs. Your cock throbbed right in front of her face, which made her smirk.

"You have an amazing cock… it feels really, really good in my mouth," she said, as she placed wet kisses on your balls, working her way up to your tip, "that's another approved point for you, by the way."

Miss Lee took your cock in one hand and gazed into your eyes as she twirled her tongue around your head, before giving it a couple of kisses and bringing half of your shaft into her mouth. A long moan of satisfaction left your mouth at the now familiar feeling of warmth around your cock; Miss Lee started pumping her head slowly, as if she wanted to make sure you felt the softness of her lips and tongue as much as possible; you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a more comfortable look, while she gave you the most sensual blowjob you had received in your life.

At first she didn't take more than half of your shaft inside her mouth, but as the seconds went by she almost reached the base of your cock, leaving it all covered with a thick layer of saliva; she didn't increase the pace at any time, on the contrary, she took you out of her mouth only to now concentrate on your balls, sucking one of them and slowly jerking you off with her hand.

You were in goddamn heaven as she worked on your balls and your cock at the same time, she was very experienced at it as she applied the perfect suction force to make it enjoyable but not painful at all. Once your balls were also covered in saliva, her mouth returned to your cock immediately; her head pumps became slightly faster, with the intention of taking you to the final stretch; she took your full length this time, not even showing any gag reflex.

"Let me know when you're going to cum, okay? You haven't earned the privilege of cumming in my mouth yet," she said after a short pause, and you just nodded. When she returned to your cock she added her hand to the equation, making a corkscrew motion that sent you into ecstasy before a minute had even passed.

"I-I-I'm cumming!" you managed to say, and Miss Lee pulled you out of her mouth to bring her boobs up to your crotch and point your tip at them as she jerked you off quickly, making you explode immediately. You squirmed on the couch while thick strips of cum shot out of your cock, landing against the perfect tits of the beautiful woman in front of you, you closed your eyes while you cummed, and when you opened them, you admired her mounds completely painted with your thick load, from which several drops fell to the sofa below you.

"My god… you came a lot, I hope those balls aren't empty yet," she gave you a small kiss on the tip, before getting up from the couch and disappearing from your sight. You stood alone, still taking in the immense amount of pleasure you just received.

Miss Lee came back after a few minutes, completely clean and recomposed unlike you, who was still sticky because of the layer of sweat on your body. She climbed onto the couch, then straddled your lap, causing her pussy to press against your flaccid cock.

"Enough rest, baby, it's time for the main attraction," Miss Lee rested her hands on your abdomen and began grinding her hips back and forth, making your cock completely hard again after a few seconds; then she leaned forward and cupped your shaft with one hand, rubbing your tip against her folds several times, finally lowering her hips and impaling herself inch by inch on your manhood.

You pursed your lips, stifling a slight moan of satisfaction as you felt your cock embraced by her soft folds, her pussy wasn't as tight as Heejin's, but it felt warm and wet, so fucking wet. Your hands went to her waist right away, pulling her down to be completely buried inside her, causing Miss Lee to let out a cute moan as she closed her eyes.

"God, it feels so fucking big and perfect inside me," she gasped, getting used to your length, only to start moving her hips up and down after a few seconds.

She moved slowly at first, at a deep and passionate rhythm that served her to enjoy how you filled her completely; her hands were now resting on your shoulders, and yours went to her tits, which screamed to be massaged, and so you did, you took each one in one hand and gave it a strong squeeze, to then play with both nipples between your fingers.

Your massage on her tits only encouraged her to seek more and more pleasure, she put her back straight, placed her hands on your abdomen and began to jump quickly on your cock; her boobs began to bounce freely, but this time you didn't bring your hands to them, you simply enjoyed the hypnotic image, letting her use you for her own pleasure.

Her moans intensified in a matter of seconds, as did the sounds of her ass slamming against your pelvis; but not content with it, she paused for a moment to plant her feet on the couch, grab onto each side of your abdomen, and start tearing your pelvis apart with each thrust of her ass. You groaned out loud, feeling the inside of her pussy squeeze even tighter around your cock, in probably one of the best rides you've ever had.

"Oh my fucking god, oh my fucking god! Your cock feels so good, sooooo fucking good!" she yelled as she closed her eyes and let out uncontrolled moans..

At this point, what you were doing could easily be mistaken for a round of applause after the end of a sports game; you felt that she was sinking you into the sofa by the force with she slammed her hips against you, so much so that it even became painful at one point, so you decided to take control. You held her by the knees and made her return to her starting position, but this time you wrapped your arms around her and made her stick her chest to yours, her face was centimeters from yours, so you took advantage of the moment to start a torrid kiss with her, as you planted your feet on the sofa and began to pump up and down with the same fast and aggressive rhythm.

She moaned against your mouth, nearly screaming if you hadn't added your tongue to the game, making them both squirm with each other. Your hands went to her ass again, squeezing each cheek and giving the right one a hard spank; Miss Lee instantly cried out and broke away from the kiss, burying her face right next to yours; now you felt her beautiful moans right in your ear, which filled you with energy to pound her pussy even harder.

"Fu-fu-ck me fr-om b-behind... now," she managed to say in your ear, between frantic moans.

You quickly pushed her off of you, she settled herself on the sofa, her chest flat against it and her ass perched at the perfect height waiting for you; you positioned yourself behind her, and without a second thought you slid back inside her. Miss Lee moaned loudly as she felt the full thickness of your cock filling her pussy; with no time to waste you dedicated yourself to pound her pussy hard, firmly grabbing at her waist and making her ass jiggle with every thrust.

"Fffffuuuck! Fuck! Fuck! Pull my hair! I'm too fucking close, pull my fucking hair!"  your hostess ordered between noisy moans, and you weren’t the one to disobey one of her orders, so you slightly leaned forward and took a big handful of her hair with your right hand, to strongly pull it back and make her look up.

That was the turning point. Miss Lee's pussy clenched around your cock, a sign that her hair being pulled, in combination with your thrusts, was pushing her to the limit. Not even a minute passed when her body collapsed, her muscles contracted violently, as did her pussy, and her moans stopped as her mouth remained open in an "O" shape; her orgasm was attacking her relentlessly, she lost the support of her hands, so her face crashed sideways against the sofa as the spasms faded away. Your thrusts became slow and deep, fucking her through her orgasm until finally her muscles relaxed.

"Cum inside me, fuck me hard and fill my pussy, boy," she ordered in a tired voice, looking over her shoulder at you.

"But... are you sure, miss?" you knew it was an order you couldn't disobey, but you still hesitated.

"I'm safe, nothing will happen, now do it!" Despite being so exhausted, Miss Lee managed to sound intimidating.

Well, you no longer had an excuse. You had all the lights green, but you wanted to do something first. You pulled your cock out of her and gently rolled her onto her back, Miss Lee gave you a puzzled look, but when you grabbed her legs, put them over your shoulders and leaned forward to get back inside her, her face changed back to one of pure pleasure.

You put your hands on the couch on either side of her body, and began fucking her for the second time that night, but this time for your own pleasure. You didn't start slow, there was no need to, as you were so close to the edge that you were desperate to cum inside her. 

You thrusted into her like an uncontrolled animal, making sure your entire cock was buried deep in her pussy with every move you made; apparently in that position you hit her g-spot, as Miss Lee's face was so transfixed with pleasure that she couldn't even produce moans.

Not even a minute passed when Miss Lee cummed for the third time that night, but that didn't stop you from continuing to fuck her; you leaned against her thighs with the full weight of your body, and thanks to the sensation of her pussy almost suffocating your cock, you exploded inside her. You may have felt a bit embarrassed afterwards, but the number of loud moans you let out at that moment was a record for you; you shot your entire load into her pussy, spurts and spurts that seemed never ending; the voice returned to Miss Lee’s throat, who let out sensual moans as she felt your thick cum inside her. 

You gave a few more thrusts inside her, until you slowly came out of her pussy, which spilled the biggest amount of cum you've ever discharged onto the couch. You felt like you were going to pass out, if your life was a cartoon, you would definitely be seeing little birds spinning around your head at that moment. 

Without even thinking about it you collapsed on your side next to Miss Lee, your face only inches from hers. Your eyes were weak, but you were able to see how she scooped up some of your cum with her fingers and brought it to her mouth, without saying a single word before or after. 

10  minutes passed, until you both finally regained some energy.

"You're going to delete your profile, now you're ours," she whispered for you to hear, then sat down and arranged her hair in a bun.

"What? Ours?" you immediately sat down next to her.

"As you heard," she turned to look at you, "the reason I'm so picky about this is because I'm not the only one you'll have to satisfy."

"Wait what? What the fuck?! I never agreed on that!" you got up from her couch and stood in front of her, clearly upset.

"$30,000 per session, that will be the base price," she stated, and you hesitated a second at that figure.

"T-this is fucking wrong, you tricked me!" you were still upset, but you weren't sure how convincing you looked anymore.

"Are you going to refuse to fuck rich women who are going to pay you large amounts of money?"

Put that way, it seemed like a lucid dream, one of the best you could ever have, but still, you hated being lied to.

"I… agh, shit! No! I'm not going to reject that offer," you clenched your fists and turned your back on her, taking a few steps forward and looking at the boats that were sailing down the river, but soon you felt her presence on your back, seeing the landscape just over your shoulder, you could feel her breath on it.

"I understand that you're upset, but there was no other way," a long silence formed after that sentence, "... my name is Sunmi, Lee Sunmi."

"I thought you would never say it."

"Not everyone deserves to know my name, you had to earn it, and you certainly did," Sunmi hugged your back, her boobs pressing against you.

"Great, now what?" your sight now wandered between the buildings on the other side of the river.

"Now you will move into this residential complex."

"WHAT?!" you separated from her, your eyes wide open as you scrutinized her completely calm face, as if you wanted to find out if she was serious.

"Yes, you will be moving to this same building, the apartment below us has been vacant for months," she replied matter-of-factly.

Damn, she was serious.

"I don't even have money to pay for your door!" you complained

"I will pay your rent every month, but in return, I will not pay you for any sessions, and I can have you as many times as I want."

"But..."

"Ugh," she rolled her eyes, annoyed, "you can move in with that little whore you live with if you want, as long as she doesn't interfere in our business."

"Okay, thanks, I promise she won't," you sighed in relief, walking several times in the same direction and back.

"Good."

"Are you sure it's not too much for me?" you stopped to look at her.

"If you're going to work for us, you need to be as close to us as possible."

"Oh right, I almost forgot that detail," you nodded, then snorted.

"Get dressed and go please, I have important things to do now," she ordered, and then she went to the bathroom.

"Yes, Miss Sunmi," you sighed.

You went to the center of the room and dressed quickly, then waited for Sunmi at the door. She appeared a few minutes later, wrapped in a scarlet bathrobe.

"I want you here tomorrow at 10:00 AM, don't you even dare be late," she stood in front of you and looked into your eyes.

"Understood, and… uhm, thank you," you gave her a small bow.

"God, you cum on my tits and in my pussy, we can skip the formalities," she cupped your face in her hands and planted a deep kiss on your lips, "now go."

Sunmi opened the door, and you walked out of the apartment with flushed cheeks.

 -----------

The way back to your house was even worse than the way out. Heejin was right all the time in her hypothesis, when she told you you took it a bit as a joke, you didn't give it much importance, but now she made you look like a clown. God, what the hell have you gotten yourself into? Your life was about to change completely, just because a rich woman liked your cock; it seemed like something you should be very happy and excited about, after all, you were going to be paid amounts of money you never thought to see in your own pockets, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

When you got to your apartment you rang the doorbell, and Heejin opened it within seconds, her hair was up in a messy bun, and she was wearing her glasses, sheer shorts, and a tank top with nothing underneath. She was probably drawing.

"Hi honey! How was it?"

"Well... we're moving out of here."

—————————————————————————

Spren Notes:

Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? Hehe. Well, I don't really have much to say, first, I'm a lazy mf, and second, I've been busy for a whole month with my moving out of FL and all that adult shit. Anyways, the reality is that many times I was lazy to write, I'm sorry for that lol.

Finally, the first part of this series! I plan to write a total of ten chapters, but depending on how much support this gets I can expand it to more ;). I hope you enjoyed it!

[cock-holliday]

Who TF am I supposed to vote for this year. I fucking hate America rn. I absolutely don’t condone what Biden is doing. But if I don’t vote Trump wins and he’s worse. He’s literally threatening to deport people speaking up against the genocide going on in Gaza (not that he can but that’s a scary prospect MAGA supporters are all around me who will spew his narrative). I genuinely need advice this election. Do I just not vote? Am I helping doom us to Trump by not voting? I’m a Democrat but I don’t condone what’s going on now it’s disgusting. I’m honestly leaning towards not voting but everyone around me is saying that’s a bad thing. Does any other candidate have a chance aside from those two?

I cannot tell you who to vote for but I can help you maybe figure it out for yourself.

First, not voting for someone is not a vote for someone else--do not let people tell you that. As a basic gesture you can, however seriously you mean it, threaten to withhold your vote from Biden. Tell his campaign people. Tell doorknockers. Say it at stops on his campaign trail. "I will not vote for Biden if he doesn't ____." You can lie. You can wholeheartedly plan to vote for him regardless, but putting some fear into his team can be helpful. The same tactic can work on any groups you might be part of. "I would love to vote for him but I can't in good conscious do it if he won't ___." Any group that dismisses you outright does not have your interests at heart. Convince them to take action too, or recognize that aggressive backlash for valid concerns are not the circle you want to entrust with your livelihood.

It's hard to tell what the 2024 election will come down to because we haven't even had a primary. Bernie Sanders seemingly came out of nowhere when it already seemed like a done deal that it would be Clinton as the sole Dem option. And boy did the DNC work to make sure she was--despite public support for another option.

Someone else may be a viable candidate to throw support behind as an alternative to Biden. Trump's legal situation muddies the waters on his eligibility, and a number of extreme right-wing fanatics think he's not fascist enough and have their eyes on DeSantis, possibly fracturing the Republican vote. It is entirely too early to tell how the general election will shake out.

Some things that are certain, however: 1. your vote is your choice and idiots guilting you while refusing to address actual concerns is not reason to vote for someone you don't want to. 2. however the presidential election shakes out, what will be much more influential on your future is local elections. An emboldened state can resist certain executive decisions to begin with, and local policy will always have a much more immediate effect on a person than national policy will.

It would be nice if, in the wake of a Trump or (insert republican candidate) win, democrats would ever recognize their own shortcomings and reconsider policy choices rather than doubling down that it's the American people who are wrong, but I'm not certain the message would be received. Then again, I am not a democrat, so appeals to the DNC are not high on my priority list.

Vote for Biden, don't vote for Biden, vote someone who has a chance to win, taking a stand and voting for someone who won't, don't vote on a president at all--this is up to you. It's not my decision and it's not anyone else's to make for you either. Make a statement with your choice if you can, but ultimately do what feels right.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi! I saw that you were theorizing before about Sherlock so I really want two things let out of my chest since I saw the series and I am curious what you think.

First of all, I have always had this theory that Moffat and Gatiss wanted Johnlock as their end-goal. I studied Film and screenwriting which taught me a lot and there is NO WAY they made all those things suggesting that their relationship is keep building from colleague to friends to something else in the first two season just by share accident. There are so many ways they could have done it and I don't believe it that they wanted queer baiting just for the sake of it THIS much without a resolution. I especially not believe it since Gatiss is gay and he should know more. Not to mention that the interviews around the first two seasons were quite telling sometimes that they were not opposed to the idea. Then something happened. My theory is that either the BBC or whoever was charged of Doyle estate and Sherlcok Holmes right (which became free from this year), or maybe even both of them could see where this is going and let Mofftiss know that they can't do that. They are bringing the money and they can call the shots even though they are the creators so they needed to compromise. And you can see they clearly made a turn from Season 3. And I think you can tell about the interviews as well from that period. I believe that's (one of the) reason Martin had enough by the end probably and they just did the job they had to do. That's what I felt. Like they were acting but it didn't really have the....spice if you know what I mean. What do you think? I have always had this theory but since studying film and how film production work and the writing progress I am convinced that they thought it through and they had a clear intension, a long game but they need to stop. 2. This second one is not a theory but it always really bugged me. In the last episode, the Final problem when Sherlock had to call Molly to make her say I love you (let's not talk about the part how rubbish it was), why Molly looked so...pardon my language...shit? She looked so done, like she was crying for hours before and it was just super weird. What was the intention behind it? It was never really explained. Or did they want to suggest that she had a shitty day and she has no patience today for Sherlock or what? She was so completely different than normally. (And I try not to rage about the fact how they underminded her character but that's another story). What do you think about that one? Honestly it really bothered me when I saw that.

Sorry for the long post. This is something I have in me for years and I didn't really have anyone to share with. If anyone else wants to comment on it, go ahead. (And english is not my first language so sorry if there are grammar issues)

Hey Lovely!

Sorry for the delay in a reply, I always need to switch my brain into Meta Mode™ to answer these types of questions, and since I don't do that much anymore, I have to go back and see what I used to theorize, LOL. So, let's go:

ONE:

Your theory aligns mostly with my own: either the (at the time) Doyle estate got involved since they saw where the plot lines were leading to post-S3, OR – and this is the one I lean more heavier towards – BBC interference. I believe there was a turnover of higher-ups at BBC at the time, if I recall correctly, and perhaps their vision for the show differed from what the story was being told. I agree with you – there is NO WAY that they DIDN'T see what they were doing...

Which then leads me to the third (and, I fear, the actual answer) option – queerbaiting to bring in the numbers. Moffat has done projects in the past where he never follows through with the queer romance or they die / happens offscreen, and Gatiss has openly admitted to using homoeroticism to bring in an audience after the downfall of S4. So It's also likely that they got too full of themselves, and without a third writer to reign them in and make a cohesive narrative (at the VERY least make S4 make sense to the other previous episodes with or without Johnlock endgame), they wrote something no one liked at ALL (even though they LEGIT thought TFP was great enough to nominate for an Emmy, if I recall correctly, and backed down on that claim after it was critically panned), including the critics AND general audience, basically told everyone they were stupid, and picked up their ball and went home. And they refuse to say if Sherlock is done at this point because the Brand™ gets them money still.

None of the actors seemed very happy after S4, even though they worked SO hard to make the best with what they had been given. Martin was DONE in interviews, Ben is SO bad at faking it, but he tried, bless his heart, and I think at this point, with both Martin and Ben busy with their own careers and side projects, I don't think we're getting anything within the next 5 years. But I've been surprised before.

TWO:

Ah, yes, the Molly Thing in TFP™, one of the things that just... ruined her entire character, devolving her back to ASiP Molly. The running theory – or at least my theory – is that she is a placeholder character for John in John's coma nightmare. She is John's inner feelings, the ones John himself feels like he can't express to Sherlock because he fears the rejection from Sherlock. I PERSONALLY think that's how we're supposed to read that scene, because otherwise any other context is weird and demeaning to her character arc.

But then again, the entirety of S4 is one big FU the series without an S5 to clean it up.

-------

I hope I helped a bit with this response! Sorry if I missed anything, I'm exhausted and need some sleep LOL.

Feel free, friends, to add your own thoughts.

[boopshoops]

ANOTHER ONE 💥 WAPOW

Jocia Gains

1. Just like Yuu- i got a whooole playlist for her. Just like all my other OCs! Though I am more set on one specific song that defines her best: Seashore

2. At RSA? Chenya! At NRC? Kalim Al Asim. Both of them make her laugh. Chenya more than Kalim, but Kalim's extroverted tendencies help her open up a bit more to pretty much everyone. It's hard to be badass when such a cinnamon roll is always around.

3. Riddle Rosehearts. Ahhh, the one who breaks rules for what they think is the greater good, and the rule enforcer. Plus, they both have an AWFUL temper. When they're not pissed off to hell and back or breaking rules, they can actually get along decently.

4. Bugs and spiders. Fuck them. Nope. Crushing them with a baseball bat ASAP. This fear practically runs in the family.

5. P.E. It's the only class in school she's ever enjoyed. Exercising helps her blow off steam and keep her temper in check.

6. Umm... is all of the above an option? Most of the time she just doesn't show up. If I had to say one that she'd be bad at if she actually tried, it'd be Alchemy. It's too close to cooking, and this woman would burn down a house trying to make mac n cheese.

7. Welp, she played baseball a TON back in high school. It's something her and her siblings always practiced together, so it reminds her of home. That's for RSA, though. If she had to join one at NRC, it'd be the Mountain Lovers club. Can't use magic for Spelldrive, so hiking is her next best bet. She doesn't know shit about nature though. Sorry Jade (I'm not sorry LMAO)

8. Floyd Leech. Similarly to him and Riddle, he knows how to get on her nerves. Except she isn't as adherent to the rules, meaning they have and will exchange a few punches.

9. Sam! She's immune to his capitalist tactics, but besides that they're pretty chill. Plus he isn't a teacher, which means he doesn't scold her for misbehaving. That's definitely a plus.

10. Savanaclaw. 100%.

11. It's a tie between Jack Howl and Deuce Spade... or maybe leaning more towards Jack given her delinquent tendencies. She wouldn't be a good influence for Deuce, and she knows that. Jack and her relate a lot to each other. Though she doesn't really care about growing stronger as much. She just enjoys exercising and a more athletic physique.

12. Harveston! She's never been sledding before, but she is biased towards winter sports. Trying it out would be fun.

13. Floyd. It could go either way, seeing as I can see them brawling more than once.

14. Bad. Very bad.

15. Unlike Yuu, Jocia doesn't keep many secrets from her peers. At least not on purpose. The fact that her sister is off being a piece of shit at her rival school, though...

16. Shameless TCOAV chapter five plug

17. They're funny. They aren't too successful at scaring her, so she honestly finds their failed attempts to be hilarious. She even gets back at them from time to time.

18. Being away from family. She has herself worried sick over her siblings health and wellbeing, to the point where it's all she can motivate herself to think about. Going home is her #1 priority.

19. NO.

20. Book 6! >:)

[a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats]

some notes and suggestions on MD2 hard mode for people struggling with it;

- you are expected to lose clashes, the game up to this point has largely framed losing a clash as a freak accident. It Will Happen in MD2H and learning how to take these losses gracefully is important, in abnormality fights inparticular try to line up clashes you can’t beat with units that have a resistance to the enemy’s damage type, bonus points if their stagger resist is high, Meur is great for this as a lot of his IDs have a very generous starting stagger resist, usually around 60% as opposed to 75%, many shi IDs have good stagger resists as well. You can obviously do that in a non abnormality fight too, but you obviously have less options. Do your best, and remember defense dice exist, they have very generous rolls and can save you from a bad time sometimes, and block dice straight up reduce damage via a shield so they’re usually good.

- Do Not Use An EGO Just Because You’re Losing A Clash; this partially ties in to my above point, but if you’re using an EGO to avoid losing a clash that’s going to do like 2 damage because it’s 1 coin and the target has ineffective resist to the damage type and applies no status effects you’re wasting EGO resources that are going to be Very Valuable on the higher floors; most final MD2H bosses require some degree of EGO spam at this point, uptie 4 may change this. Again, Losing Clashes Is Okay; enemy attacks can be surprisingly ineffective in the right circumstances.

- EGO gift meta right now leans towards ego resource generation gifts and healing gifts; if you’re struggling healing gifts will give you much more wiggle room, homeward and phlebotomy pack are both extremely good, but any heals you can get are great. Other EGO gifts aren’t bad nessacerily but they’re obviously more comp dependent and often more reliant on winning clashes

- Stacking similar damage types and resists is a heavy risk, especially in your initial party. If you’re anything like me you have all 4 liu units built up, but if you take all 4 into your initial party and guido shows up on the first boss, he is going to turn you inside out. Him and his gang do mostly pierce damage, liu IDs are all fatal resist against pierce damage, and all his buddies roll extremely well and will roll extremely Better when they start dying; gregor and meur liu are basically useless in this scenario and they can’t even risk taking a losing clash because they’ll take boatloads of damage from basically anything they do. Crusaders might be weak to blunt, but that doesn’t mean they’re weak to liu.

- some ID/EGO suggestions: Base heathcliff is honestly surprisingly good, his sk2 and sk3 clash well in lower floors and he has a self power buff that can make them competitive even on higher floors. Lobotomy Corp Remnant faust was and still is among the best clashers in the game, she can neutral clash even some surprisingly big rolls in higher floors with opportunistic, and her sk2 shreds on lower floors. This is counterbalanced by her having maybe one of the worst sk1′s in the game, keep an eye out for skill swap machines with her face on em.

Shi don isn’t incredible for general use but overbreathe is an EGO tier coin that can help take some pressure off your EGO resource reserves.

R Heathcliff is as always decent, though he can struggle to clash sometimes (though not more then base heathcliff! would argue he’s always worth taking over base heath, though I’m still working with base heath, his self power buffs might end up making him clash better on higher floors)

Defensive IDs in general are helpful as they can usually take clashes more gracefully, meur is a surprisingly good sinner in general just because all his IDs are skewed towards being able to take shots; presumably K corp hong lu is a beast as usual but I don’t have him so I can’t confirm on how well he clashes.

If you have Fluid Sac Faust, it’s an excellent support EGO that is also an AoE; it’s the best of both worlds.

Pursuance is a targeted heal and can really save a sinner’s butt if they’re in trouble

AoE EGOs can be helpful in general for boss fights that summon adds; they’re also just good damage in general on non boss fights. Legerdemain continues to be extremely good.

MD2 Hard mode is mostly hard because the game up to this point hasn’t really been encouraging good play habits, I suspect as time goes on this content will get “solved”, but for now this stuff should help you out if you’re struggling to clear. As you get some of these habits into your system I suspect the content will get much easier to handle; again this is mostly just learning there’s more to the system then auto win and use ego when clash bad (I certainly know that’s how I was playing before MD2H).

[thisisntmyrightera]

Always the Freak Girlfriend | Eddie Munson x fem. reader

Summary: Eddie and y/n have a hate/love relationship working on the music store in Starcourt, Eddie is Eddie and her is such a insecure girl who doesn't want to let Eddie know that she's so crazy in love with him...until some Russian's atack

Note: Inspired in Season 3 but with Eddie on this scenario.

Words: 1,551

Note 2: I was thinking about write this as a fanfiction but i am a little insecure if the idea is good. Please let me know in the comments if you like it.

______________________________________

-This is just a summer job, just a summer job - I repeated internally to myself as I took courage and filled my lungs with oxygen to include me in the intense fight that Eddie had with Erica Sinclair for using the headphones on the sideboard for more than 30 minutes with her friends - Hello, everything alright? - I smiled at the girls as I stood next to Eddie trying to calm the discussion

-You can tell your stupid boyfriend to leave me alone or I'll stick this delicious Scoops ahoy cone up his white and flabby ass - my employee smile turned into an awkward smile looking at Eddie trying to understand how a 7-year-old girl had so much sarcasm inside, but honestly I liked that

-Look girl, I know your brother and I know perfectly well how spoiled you are..

-Eddie..

-What? she only comes here to listen to free music on the headphones and it's not even music, look, listen the shit she’s listening - the headphones that Eddie was holding in his hand he slammed into my ears while ''Take On Me'' was playing loud

-Yes – I take it quickly looking at him frustrated- but you can't talk to her like that, she's a...client - I looked at him irritated, giving the headphones to Erica in return, giving her a smile - I'm sorry, you can listen to the music without any problem

-But..Y/n

-I'll take this boy with me, sorry for the inconvenience - I smiled kindly taking Eddie's arm pulling him carefully towards the counter

-No..why do you always have to be the good policeman in everything?

-Eddie, you were fighting with a 7-year-old girl...7 Eddie! – I look at him furrowing my eyebrows worried about his social relations

-You called me boy...

-Relatively you are, you're still in high school and even though I'm a year younger than you, you must respect me, I'm your supervisor after all -I smiled sarcastically at him while I arranged my inventory book to include the cassettes and vinyl’s that had arrived

-Ok but... this time you didn't tell Sinclair that I wasn't your boyfriend - Eddie leaned on the counter in front of me resting his chin on his hand while he looked at me with those stupid and beautiful brown eyes

- And what's the point of me telling her? Every time you fight with her she says that you're my boyfriend again and although I always tell her that you’re not she never understands and when you fight with her again she repeats it to me, I'm not going to argue with her for something so...stupid

-So you're saying that being related to me doesn't bother you anymore and you see as an option in the future that you and I can finally go out?

-I'm saying that you should go to the warehouse behind and bring the boxes that arrived yesterday

-Yes ma’am – He give me one of his cute and dumb smiles and walk slow to the back of the store

It wasn't even halfway through the shift yet and I already felt anxious to be close to Munson like I did every day, so as always I would start arraging the cassettes that customers left out of place or cleaning the counter while Eddie was in the back "assuming" that he was putting things in the warehouse, although when I go to check the whole place it smelled like weed and I had to end up doing his job.

-Hello ma’am! is Eddie here? - Dustin almost screamed as he walked through the door showing off his new ''pearls'' adorned with braces walking towards the counter

-Eddie, the children came home honey! - I didn't even have to look up to hear the back door slam open and Eddie's quick steps towards the counter.

-Henderson! ready to finish off the beasts of the underworld tonight?

-Better than that, do you want to be part of a real mystery? - Dustin and Eddie pretended to speak in codes so that I wouldn't understand them but they were so obvious speaking in front of me making me laugh at their childish talk

-Hey, don't make fun of this, it's serious- Eddie looked at me seriously making me look at him apologizing with his eyes while i endured another laugh- speak now buddy

-I think I discovered a group of...Russians conspiring against Hawkins - he whispered the latter, getting as close as he could to Eddie, almost covering his mouth

-Russians? What would Russians do in Hawkins? I mean...it's Hawkins

-Eddie my friend there is too much you don't know and you wouldn't believe me, have you ever heard that Hawkins is cursed? - I looked at them honestly intrigued in the story that Dustin was about to tell, leaning my arms on the counter to get a little closer to both of them.

-Of course a lot of times... what about that? -Eddie laughed nervously trying to cover his fear by looking sarcastic

The minutes passed while Dustin told us how he and his friends had killed some demogorgons, his friend had powers and the Russians were about to take over Hawkins and everything indicated that his secret laboratory was in the basement of Starcourt operating to defeat the world and they had to do something to end the ''bad guys''. Eddie looked scared, his fingers wouldn't stop hitting the counter while his eyes shone with tears or maybe just because that's how his eyes were, bright and cute, but honestly the laughter I held in for 20 minutes came out from me without warning.

- You gave drugs to the children right?.. - Dustin and Eddie looked at me so offended and surprised that I dont believe the story that Henderson had told

-What? ... y/n this is serious, Dustin has never lied to me and I believe what he tells me

-Yes... you believe a 13-year-old boy, Eddie, it's impossible that this is happening in our town, you understand... Hawkins is the most boring thing that can exist on earth

Eddie took a deep breath taking his hair physically desperate that I dont have credibility in his friend when suddenly all the lights in the mall went out.

- You see... a blackout! The Russians are diverting energy and this is what happens – Dustin open his arms on the air shouting as always

-Yes, how cruel they are - I raised my hands trying to look scared - it's almost 3 o'clock so I'll take my 30 minute break, ok?

-But..

- Take good care of the kid, don't give them sugar or anything that makes him fly - I stared at Eddie as i turned the counter walking to the door

-Where will you be? What should I do if I have to look for you?

-I'll be at Scoops Ahoy, watching Steve Harrington while I imagine I cover him with ice cream. – I bring my hand to my mouth kissing my fingers imitating a chef while leaving

-I hate Harrington, you idolize him and she loves him madly, I'm always second in everything - Eddie rolled his eyes annoyed walking behind the counter.

I lied, of course I wasn't in love with Harrington, I hadn't been in my entire time in high school, less I would be now, but teasing Eddie with that was more fun than I imagined.

Actually I was going to Scoops today to visit Robin, my best friend since the beginning of the summer that curiously we realized that we were neighbors and we took the same road to the mall and since that day we became confidants and inseparable, it was like having met my other half but with more sarcasm and an excellent haircut

-Ahoy sailor! –I ring the bell causing Steve to roll his eyes at the uncomfortable sound - is my woman here?

-Robin, the freak's girlfriend is looking for you

-Finally! - Robin slammed the door, leaving walking out to take my arm- I thought you weren't coming, I have something to tell you, thanks. Steve, I'll be back in 30 minutes.

-Sure...I'll wait for you here- Steve said goodbye waving his hand while he hold his scooper in the air

-Excellent service Harrington - I said goodbye to him while I was being pulled by Robin to leave the fast as we can walking towards the food court where we always sat down to talk while we share a milkshake or a plate of fries

-Any news with the weirdo? -her arm was intertwined with mine as we walked fast

-none, he's still annoying like every day, he was late again, he had a fight with Erica Sinclair and Dustin came to keep him company a while ago to talk about some...Russians or something like that

-Shit, what? - Robin took me by the shoulders stopping in front of me looking at me surprised- I told that boy not to say anything and he said to Munson

-What's wrong with that? he always tells him strange stories don't take him seriously - I looked at her laughing trying to calm her down

-It's just... it's not a story- her eyes changed from having that happy shine to really show fear and concern

[bloogers-boogers]

Kyle Brofloski/ Eric Cartman (SP FIC) part 2

/playful project/

Garrison assigns Cartman and Kyle to become class partners for a 'inclusive project' by PC principal.

Slight warning ⚠️ this is Cartman and Kyle you could either expect the worse or the best from them. Okay, with that said, Chao chao:3

I also want to thank for the support I've received for the first chapter, and thank @myst1calx for your words it really cheer me up when I read you, I also have considered publishing in ao3 but I'm still stubborn on not making an account cause I'm too lazy, but maybe eventually who knows? But still, thank you c:°▪︎°♡°▪︎°

~~~~~~

Kyle walked in the hallways being greeted by girls and some other classmates as they commented his appearance, again remarking he looked particularly 'good' that day. Pretty much the same thing pointed out by his friends and family, to be entirely honest he felt the same as always and honestly his appearance looked pretty bad in his opinion, as for days prior he's been healing bruises and scratches from his previously fight from yesterday and a couple of more from the days that started his 'venture' with the fatass and Douglas boy.

Besides that, he feels exactly the same, either they felt pity for his bruised face or they're just bullshittin him for a laugh. Both options could be plausible.

He opened up his locker in search for the books he'll need for the day, packing them inside his backpack before continuing walking to class. He waved hello to some of his friends as he entered the classroom sitting in his desk.

The bell rang declaring it was now time to begin class, he sighed frustrated as he felt sticky rolled paper balls against his neck.

"Goddammit, Cartman! Quit it!," he exclaimed, before turning his way an earning a offended scowl from the other.

He looked to his left and found out it was Bebe being the one who had spit on him, he arched a brow confused, offended.

She gesture with her head towards Stan, with apologetic eyes, "whoops, that was for Stan."

"Me!?," Stan snapped offended, taken off guard by the comment and possible action towards his person.

"Okay, class, settle down now," Mr Garrison greeted as he entered his class, standing in front of the board, "I said to settle down now!," he asserted more loudly seeing how no one payed him attention.

Now with everyone kept quiet he continued, "today will be initiated a parental project," he wrote in the board 'partner a/ partner b' before continuing, "yes, Clyde?," he aked disinterested, seeing how Clyde had raised his hand.

"So that means are parents are getting involved somehow?."

"Fuck no, the last thing that this school needs is to also deal with the idiotic embodiments that we're willingly capable of conceiving you guys!," he cleared his throat, "now, the project would consist in you guys having to parent a baby, you and you're assigned partner will be given a doll specialized for the task, you write your shit down in a powerpoint essay and print it out, being neatly order in the respective day of what ever you did with the baby and how you managed to deal with the doll," he continued blabbering, as he leaned on his desk.

"Like the egg project?," Stan asked.

"Yes, Stan, just like the egg project but with some added adjustments," Garrison roll his eyes, as he took out a clipboard and placed a box full of dolls in his desk, "you see, children, PC principal wants this project to be as inclusive as it could possibly be, AND expects it to go well.

So you assholes better do a good job or you'll ALL will sink with me, you know how PC principal gets," he pointed out threatening.

"Yes, Bebe?."

"Can we pick are own partner?."

"No." He flip through some papers, "I already have it all assigned."

Everyone groaned annoyed. Not only did they have to deal with that stupid project again but they also have to deal with a partner Mr Garrison (probably to spite us) picked.

"Okay, we're gonna start with the trans couple," he took out a blonde white baby, "Annie and Kenny, you're now trans, congrats," he tossed the first baby carelessly to Kenny; who just looked at him weirdly.

"What!? But I'm not trans!," he heard Annie shout from behind them.

"It's just for the project, stop complaining and keep that mouth shut," he grunted annoyed, "lesbian couple one, Heidi and Nichole," he tossed a brown baby with black hair towards them, "lesbian couple number two, Red and Nancy," he threw them a very pale baby with a label that said 'diabetic' and specified instructions.

He scribble down his paper, as he picked up a brown baby with blonde hair, "Craig and Wendy you'd be the interracial couple," he tossed the baby to Craig.

"Tweek and Clyde, you're homos," he tossed a red head baby aggressively to Clyde hitting him in the face, "Eric, Kyle you're the second homos," he tossed a black, browned curly haired baby towards the red head.

"What!? My kid's black!?," Cartman screeched out loud; making Kyle shuddered infront by the agonizing noise. In disbelief as if that was his only concern.

"Sit down Eric, you two are the typical white gay couple that thinks they're ahead of time by adopting an African kid," he rolled his eyes, as he continued naming the couples in his list.

'My god,' Kyle heard Cartman say as he sat back in his chair defeated.

"Serves you right for being a complete racist piece of shit," he commented as he turned to look at him, "now your son is black." He gestured 'their' baby in a teasing manner.

Cartman frowned, "Shut up, Kyle! I don't even want to be married to you," he groaned angrily crossing his arms.

"Stan, Bebe, you two are a divorced co-parenting couple," he tossed them a white freckled, black haired baby, labeled 'paralyzed from it's legs' and other instructions, "Butters and Sofie; Butters you're the alcoholic father going to aa meetings trying to recover both yourself and the lost bond of your child,"

'oh geez' Butters commented nervously, rubbing together his knuckles.

"Sophie you'll be the unfaithful wife who's also secretly into women and currently in process of getting a divorce," 'Oh my!' Sophie exclaimed in shocked as she was then toss a black baby.

"Scott and Jenny, you two are a special case, you'll be raising your baby for a couple of days, then, you'll have to grieve the lost of your child by an accidental death, pin blaming one another becoming the grieving couple," he stated, swinging their white, brown curly haired baby before throwing it to Scott.

'My. God,' Scott commented baffled, as he hugged dramatically his baby.

"Timmy, Lola. Normal straight boring couple," he tossed them a white, black haired baby.

"Jimmy you're a single parent, raising your son with a very low income job struggling barely to buy your kid some food," he tossed a black malnourished looking baby towards him.

'j-j-esus ch-hrist,' he blurted out looking at his now baby.

"Tolkien, you're also a single father, but struggling to raise your baby that has a severe illness, not because of the money but because you don't know how to handle it's condition" he tossed him an albino baby, with a label full of instructions. Before clasping his hands as he now finally sat down in his desk, "Okay, children that's about it, any questions?."

Everyone raised their hands abruptly, but was immediately interrupted by the bell ringing.

"Well, see ya later losers," he blurted out smugly, before leaving to the other classroom his assigned with for next period.

°°°°

He carried the baby carelessly in his arms, going to his locker, Cartman following behind cause they had no choice but to discuss what they'll do with the baby.

"I think Joshua is a nice name," he commented, now looking for a old eraser he swear had.

He truly didn't care about the naming, but they had to discuss it for the upcoming essay they'll have to write.

"That's stupid and basic, Kahal," Cartman complain arrogantly, as he huffed crossing his arms enthusiastically indifferent of the suggestion, "if my son is gonna be black might aswell have a cool name."

"Okay, what better name do you have in mind, fat boy?," he asked annoyed as he slammed his locker, while gripping the half done eraser in his hand.

"Moisha," he responded eagerly, smiling lightly as he looked at the ground, internally contemplating his answer.

Kyle arched a brow skeptical, "Moisha?," he repeated not even fazed.

"It's a cool name, you asshole!," he defensively responded, huffing again, embarrassed.

He rolled his eyes, and saved himself discussing for probably over an hour about the name being jewish, definitely purposely intended to mock him indirectly. Fucking asshole.

"Okay, whatever," he shrugged as he looked around the other students walking by, and some of his classmates also discussing with their partner about their babies.

Before he could try gesturing Stan to come approach them, 'their' baby began to cry.

"Goddammit," Cartman groaned out, as they now both turned to look at the judgmental and teasingly stares from some of the students there.

"Here, try calming him down," he ordered, shoving the baby to Cartman, embarrassed trying not to be seen holding that thing.

"Aye! Why do I have to deal with it!," Cartman whined out, sounding more like a baby than the fake mimicking one.

"Just make it stop crying, fatass!," he whispered frustrated, as he kept glancing at some of his classmates.

Cartman huffed, as he reluctantly hold the baby in his arms unknowingly, struggling to actually make it look like a decent position for a baby. He rock it soothing as some mother would normally do to put to sleep their newborn.

Kyle had to take out some immense power in him to not laugh out loud. Wanting to crackled so badly, pinching his side to prevent himself by actually doing so.

"Nah, nah, nah—nah nah, nah nah nah— go to sleep baby, don't makemeforceyoutoactuallygotosleep, baby nah nah nah—," he singed in a very silent manner, as he discreetly looked to his side cautious if anyone was seeing him.

Kyle's humorous internal conflict immediately faded away, not expecting Cartman to actually try soothing that thing to sleep with a song.

And miraculously it worked.

Stan and Kenny approached them after, Kenny still with his baby in arms while Stan didn't.

"Joseph, these are your idiotic gay uncles," Kenny mimic an old man, as he gestured Cartman and Kyle to his fake baby with a smirk.

Stan snorted shortly, "damn, must be crazy for you guys having to end up together," he continued to add, mockingly, "have you guys decided it's name yet? Mine's name 'Rafael' I swear to God, Bebe has a poor taste in naming."

"Ours named Moisha," Kyle leaned against his locker, arms crossed, "courtesy of the fatass," gesturing with his head towards Cartman.

"It's a nice name, okay!?" He kept defending himself, in his whiney annoying voice.

"I've never thought it my life, I'd ever see you holding a black baby in your arms," Kenny mocked Cartman, wiping a fake tear from his eyes, "you make me proud, I can actually see the resemblance."

Cartman rolled his eyes, flipping him off with his free hand, "he's adopted, you stupid man whore." He tried 'correcting.'

"Careful with your wording, fatass, you don't want your kid to turn out like a fat psychotic racist entitled spoiled brat," the blonde snapped back, making both his friends laugh.

Later that day, during lunch time, it was damn obvious how PC principal managed to make everyone somehow get involved in the project making them take it just as seriously as he'd expect them to do. Which makes the whole thing nerve wrecking, their grades were on a line, so they have to deal with shit like this

"Hey, bigots, you like to take it up the ass so much? why don't get outta town first and take your ugly ass baby with you," some nineth grader mocked.

Kyle frowned, cause it was directly towards him, Cartman and their kid, before almost punching the dude in the mouth, Stan grabbed him by the shoulder moving him towards the cafeteria line.

"Dude, not worth it," he spoked, as he shake his head in disapproval.

Their baby began crying once more, and that added up to his anger.

"Shoo shoo shoo," cartman cradled into his arm, as he gently caressed his cheek; making the baby to whimper less and less, finally stopping.

"Dude, motherhood looks good on you" Kenny teased as he rested his chin in Cartman's shoulder before earning a glare from him.

"Kahal, give me his bottle," he ordered, as he extended his hand towards him expecting him to give him that same thing.

Kyle blink in confusion, "what bottle?."

He groaned out loud, rolling his eyes, not believing what he's hearing, "the baby's hungry, asshole, we need to feed it or he'll starve!."

"Oh," in all honesty Kyle had completely forgot about the baby's needs, but could you blame him? It's a fucking doll. But than again, his grades are at risk, so he has do deal with it.

And it's not like Garrison gave them any bottles, diapers and shit, trying to make it as real as possible, that, or he's just being a douchbag.

He contemplated a bit before being snapped by Cartman, "Dude, go get him a bottle of formula," he blurted out pissed.

Kyle frowned sharing the same sentiment, "why do I have to do it, fatass!?."

Cartman glared back not even bothering to comment anything, pretty much giving him a answer. Kyle sighed defeated, ceasing in, as he kept waiting in line.

"They're probably selling formula in the cafeteria, if this some cheap tactic for the school to earn some extra money," he shrugged, now hands in his pockets like some scolded husband.

Everyone nodded, as that was most likely to happen. And true enough, they were in fact a specific section that was labeled 'baby supplies', there was a pile of students picking up and purchasing up the stuff they needed, some kids from other classe stuck with the same project as them, others from their class, and ofcourse themselves.

Bebe headed towards Stan and pinched him in the arm, "the fuck, dude!?," Stan yelped in pain.

"Go buy the baby diapers and some baby formula," she ordered.

Stan huffed, "why do I have to buy it?," he asked still rubbing his arm.

"Because you're the man, and it's your duty to provide for us!," she yelled at him before joining her group of friends at their table.

Kyle and Kenny began laughing for his dismay, it was hilarious as Stan glared at them offended.

The red head turned to his side, and seemingly enough, Cartman was already listing the things they needed.

"Okay, Kahal, this is all we need for today," he said, as he extended his hand again.

"What?," he asked confused, looking at his chubby hand.

"Give me money!."

"Me!? Why the fuck do I have to give you money?!," he exclaimed, sharing the same tone in disbelief as his best friend had prior.

"Because I don't have jack shit!," he groaned out.

Now both his friends snorted behind them, earning a mocking smirk from his best friend.

Kyle grumble under his breath as he took out his wallet, "that's what you get for hooking up with a alleyway whore," Kenny teased as he protectively hold his baby shielding it, being nudged harshly by Cartman on to his side, earning some laughs.

Kyle glared at the blonde, giving the money to the lunch lady; who was already glaring suspiciously at them. He assumed she thought they'll steal their shit, even though the prices were a steal themselves, my god, everthing was expensive as shit.

A diaper (one single) for 10 bucks!?, he had to purchase three (30$), formula 23 bucks and one set of clothing for 35!?, Jesus christ. He did not bother to buy the clothing, saving himself 35 bucks, cause c'mon! That's all his damn lunch money for a week in one spending.

No lunch for him, if he wanted to save his thirty bucks he must act like he already has nothing on him, making Cartman scoffed as he noticed he didn't receive the clothing he had added to his list.

They sat on the table, Stan also seemingly had brought nothing for himself as he was also broke, Kenny had brought home made lunch so he didn't seem too fazed, while Cartman fed the baby but his tray was on his side.

"This sucks ass," Stan complained, resting his chin on both his hands.

"Tell me about it," he added.

PC principal entered the cafeteria in a extremely dramatic way, with a microphone in hand, standing in the middle of the crowd of students grabbing their attention.

"Okay, kids, as you may know. Some of the students here are now parents, I want you all to treat them with RESPECT, I want cero negative you hear that? I want this procedure to go as smoothly as possible. Which is why, the PC children will keep watch for any offensive behavior against the new couples, informing me for the misconduct.

Also for you, parents, if anything happens to your child, you'll be pressed charges and receive the punishment you ask for, like a realistic scenario. Ofcourse not exactly too realistic, but enough to cross a point to you of having to be a good responsible parent to your child," He threatened, "yes, that'll mean you'd be sent to jail for two weeks being monitored by official Barbready if you kill your infant, if you verbally abuse/ neglect your child you'll be sent to do community service for a week with added group therapy. And lastly be monitored with a ankle bracelet if you physically abuse your child or have addiction problems for two weeks, with added therapy.

Hopefully I got that out of our way, enjoy your lunch," he proceeded to leave out the cafeteria.

Every student their was in shock, some scared, others worried and the rest nervous.

He grunted annoyed, this will be the longest three weeks of his life.

And so it begins, Cartman tugged on his jacket aggressively.

"What!?," he spat, getting out of his grip.

"Give me your jacket," he ordered firmly.

"Excuse me? Fuck off, I'm not giving you my jacket, Cartman."

"Kyel, jesus christ, the baby needs to be wrapped with something," He pull out his phone, showing the following baby tracking status, "he's freezing, asshole, and being you, didn't buy him clothes leaving him butt fucking naked with just his diaper like the cheap mediocre bitch you are, might aswell give me your damn JACKET!," he huff out loud tired, like a whiney ass bitch.

Why is he acting like he has been caring for the kid for years!? It's not like he has done much besides feed him during the pass few hours. He's done more by paying for his needs than just cradling it in his arms and feeding him a bottle of formula HE bought. Technically he'd be screwed with out him.

He grunted before taking off his jacket unwillingly, tossing it back to Cartman, already tired of this bullshit fake marriage and stupid fake plastic doll. Kenny chuckled as he began rocking his baby to sleep, patting it gently.

The day went on, and it was literal hell, Cartman couldn't stop yapping here and there, about how the baby 'needed this' and the 'baby needed that' and so on, he couldn't stand it, he needed a fucking break from both Cartman and that kid.

The final bell rang, and he rushed outside the classroom wanting to run away from his responsibilities. But failed miserably, being stopped near the entrance of school, Cartman called him out before he had place foot outside.

"What do you want, fatass?," he stopped in tracks reluctantly.

"It's your turn to take the baby," he said casually, shoving the baby in his arms and passing some of the things he had bought for it.

He arched a brow, in disbelief, "are you serious right now?."

"Uh, yeah?," he said confused, gripping on to his backpack.

"You haven't done jack shit!, I'm tired, and I'm going home, fatass. I don't see why you're trying to pin all the responsibility on ME," he complained.

"excuse YOU, jew. But I've been changing his diapers, feeding him, keeping him warm and making him fall a sleep since second period! I fucking need a break!," he blurted out, hands extended in emphasis of his annoyance, "You think it's all sunshine and rainbows raising a child while you seat all day doing nothing but writing some notes and looking at some white board!."

"I was in class!," he defended in protest.

"Okay, now stay outta class and take him with you, see were it gets you, asswipe," he grumbled out spiteful, before walking out, leaving him standing there with a baby in arms.

"¡Goddammit!," he screamed frustrated, as he stomped his feet in place.

He got home, tossing his backpack agitated to his side, wanting to straight up go to his room. But again, was stopped. All the way over to get home people 'congratulated' him on his newborn, and his bravery to come out as a 'newlywed gay couple' with Cartman, it was the most ridiculous shit he's ever been put in. Some tossed him slurs and other bashed on their baby, which made him clenched his right fist, holding it together as the PC children passed by him checking he wasn't being a bad father and 'exposing' his child to a bad environment. Like it's not fucking South Park they lived in.

He groaned out loud, "what?."

"Kyle, please take a seat," his father gesture the couch.

Both his parents stood infront of him as he sat down, he watched them cautiously wanting an explanation.

"Bubbie, we just want you to know, that we support you no matter what. And we promise you the struggle won't be too overwhelming for you and your partner," Kyle was left mouth wide open, were they really talking about the damn plastic baby and his fake relationship with Cartman!?, "PC principal has already informed us about the project." His mother explained calmly.

"Yes, and we don't care if our grandson is black," His dad reluctantly added, looking at the ceiling then looking at the ground, "even though, it would've been best if he were white atleast you boys could act out that the boy is actually related to one of you," his mom nudged him with a glare.

"As long as he's jewish we don't care, Kyle," she beamed reassuring, as she went to the kitchen, coming out with a box and placing it next to him.

"What's all that?," he asked, still processing the whole surreal conversation.

"It's all the stuff you'll be needing for you son," she said, in a more firmly tone, "you see, Kyle, being a parent is more than just opening your legs and leading a man inside you," she continued, leaving Kyle speechless.

"Yes, Kyle, your mother is right. Though, it's clear as day you're the dominant one in the relationship," his dad then added, trying to assert more pressure on him for being 'the man' in the relationship, "it also about responsibility, raising a child is more then just buying the things it needs and feeding it."

"Exactly, love is also an important factor for a beautiful blossoming relationship with your son, also assuring he'll be raised a right man," now his mother spoke, "he is a.. boy, right?," she winced, tilting her head a she looked attentively to the baby he held.

He nodded reluctantly, still not saying a single word.

"Wonderful!," she beamed excited, as both his parents clapped their hands in victory before rushing out the door.

"You heard that, Donovan! My first grandkid is a boy!," he heard his dad smugly comment in a scream. 'Fuck you!' He heard from afar Mr. Donovan snap back.

°°°°

He grunted, as he confusingly looked at the big instruction manual he held in hand. His father insisted he had to fix up the crib for the baby to sleep in.

"Daaaad!," he groaned out loud, now hearing steps coming from down stairs.

His dad leaned against the frame of his door, with the, now, fully clothed baby in his arms; being dressed up with a green small vest and black pants, probably his mother put on him, while with a dolphin cap, probably his dad added. As he had a glass of wine in his free hand, being left with 'babysitting duty' as a responsible grandfather while he, Kyle, had to handle this shit.

"How the hell do I fix this!? I just can't figure it out," he pleaded in help. He's been in his room for two hours trying to piece things together, but it doesn't budge.

"Well, Kyle, part of being a man and the provider of the household is about figuring out things on your own for the sake of your spouse and children, not for yourself, never for yourself," he chuckled in disapproval of his progress, as he sipped on his wine. Before walking off, "C'mon, little Moisha, grandad is gonna show you the beauty of internet trolling i-i mean, scrolling the web!," he blurted out almost nervously, leaving him behind with all this mess.

He grumbled, as he forcefully tried gluing two pieces together that clearly didn't belong to one of another.

On the other side, Cartman also found himself struggling with his bitch of a mother now nagging about parenthood, as the responsibility he now held.

"You see, poopsikins, if you want to have everything held to you by your husband, you must be ready to provide him everything he needs. Like keeping him full all the time with amazing cooking, pamper him with affection and seductive comments, pretty much luring him with your pretty face and sexy body, love.

Men are difficult to keep around, because they easily get bored with the same thing, so you really have to make sure your man sticks and not try running off with some mistress and leaving you behind having to raise alone your kid," she took out some pans and pots.

"You sound like you're talking about yourself, ma." He commented worrisome.

"Ofcourse not, I was the mistress," she shamelessly added, "now let's start from the beginning."

She continued explaining about certain exquisite dishes, then showing him some manipulative 'harmless' moves he could use on Kyle to do things for him; even though he doubted that'll work on Kyle, he still kept listening, entertained by the whole madness of the situation.

Then they were the seduction strategies, and the boring chores he'd have to do to keep 'his' husband content and keep the little brat alive.

He sighed exhausted as he sat in his couch, his back hurt for no reason as he felt a bad headache.

She came in the living room, opening a bottle of champagne and setting two glases in the dinner table, "I knew some day you'll turned into a housewife like me, didn't think it'd be this soon or even married but—," she poured in some champagne on a glass, passing it to him, "but I'll make sure, sweetie, you DO have your happy ending," she promised assertive, as she now drink from her glass.

She held her glass high expectantly for he to 'clank' it together with his, he reluctantly did, also sipping silently the bubbling beverage; processing his mother's words.

Kyle layyed down his bed with a loud 'thump', exhausted but finally had fix the crib together, he heavily breathe out victorious. Closing his eyes shut, finally feeling his body relax against the comfort of his mattress.

"And what do you think you're doing?."

He snapped back up, now looking at his mother in the door frame, hands placed in her hip in a assertive way.

"I.. was resting? I just finished up fixing the crib," he explained.

"You think that's an excuse to leave both your father and I do YOUR responsibility?."

"Huh?."

"Poor, little Moisha has been missing his father all day, we said that we'd be okay caring for your son, Kyle, but you shouldn't take advantage of our generosity."

"It's been like three hour, ma?."

"¡Those three hours will become days, then years! Moisha would eventually feel your absence," she spat out, before slamming the door shut out of habit, "and you better make sure his crib is place right next to you, and don't forget about his nursery, Kyle!."

"¡Goddammit!," he cursed out, throwing his pillow to the wall unintentionally hitting the crib, now breaking it down once more.

After hours of fixing the baby's nursery, crib and shelf, it was already time to go to bed. He placed the baby in his crib, as he now layyed down on his own bed. Closing his eyes shut, with a small smile creeping in his face, not a minute in before the baby began whining out, as it sobbed, fading away the little joy he had felt that evening.

He stretch his arm out, rocking the crib tirelessly, but the baby kept crying out.

'Shut that damn baby!' He heard Ike scream out from his room.

He groaned, as he forcefully got out of bed, gripping hard the edges of the crib. Holding himself together, not wanting to strangle the fucking doll.

He glared at it, before reluctantly holding it in his arms, avoided shaking it cause it could activate 'shake baby syndrome', and that's some fuck up shit he isn't planning to get involved with.

He nested it in his arms as he sat down on his bed, eyes shut as he soothe both the baby and his uncontrollable anger. As he heard the baby silently lower his cries being now put asleep, he leaned against the headboard as he felt himself knock out.

The next morning, he yawned tirelessly as he didn't get all the sleep he needed, he stretch out his arms, somehow feeling a small weight off his body.

Wait.

"The fuck?," he exclaimed worrisome, as he no longer had the baby with him, he put his jacket on and ran downstairs.

Entering the kitchen, he noticed Ike was feeding the baby while his mother hummed washing the dishes, and his dad read the newspaper.

"Uh.. morning?," he hesitantly greeted before sitting down.

Now relieved that he didn't unintentionally lose the baby while he was asleep.

"Morning, bubbie," she greeted warmly, "sorry for taking out Moisha, but I was worried sick cause I didn't hear him cry much at night. But then I entered your room, saw you were holding him even while you were sleeping I thought it was cute, so I took him from your arms and left you rest, sweetie."

"Uh.. that's okay," he awkwardly said, noticing he was not placed breakfast.

"If you're wondering where's your breakfast is," His dad caught his eye, "you have a spouse, where is he? He plans on you to care for your son AND also feed yourself?."

'Oh brother' he rolled his eyes annoyed, not even bothering to comment back, picking up the baby, getting his backpack and then dashing out.

'Couple these days' he heard his father nag before closing the door.

"Damn dude, parenthood doesn't look well on you," Stan commented, as they were at the lockers.

He was taking out some of his books and placing the ones he no longer needed back inside.

"Yeah, dude, it's fucked up. This thing literally has a tracker for EVERYTHING. I couldn't bash an eye last night," he may had exaggerated a bit, but he didn't care, in all honesty, it's not comfortable holding on to something while you sit your ass down as you sleep, and he can still feel cramps on his leg and has a sore back, "and my stupid parents nagging all day about what it's like to be a parent and shit like that."

"Wow, sounds hard. I'd comment something, but Bebe's been hogging all the parental hours for herself I haven't spend time at all with my son," he commented as he glance at the blonde who smugly showed off their baby to her friends.

"Don't you have visiting hours?," he then added, as he closed his locker.

"I do, but that bitch doesn't give them to me, I may sue her in court or something," He said, as he glared at her, "she's like really pissed over what happened with Wendy the other day," he added.

Oh yeah, he had forgotten Stan had accidentally ditched her in their tenth date of the week to go play videos games with the guys.

"Sucks," he commented back, looking at his phone for the stats.

"Is that the status of your baby?," Stan commented as he took his phone away, "cool, might aswell see what I'll get into ONCE BEBE STOPS BEING A BITCH about it and hands me our kid," he spat out bitterly, loudly enough for the blonde to hear, earning from a far a flipped finger at him 'fuck you, Marsh!.'

"Mornin' fellas," Butters gritted tirelessly, with a bottle in hand.

"Uh.. hey?," he greeted confused.

"Dude, why you got a empty bottle of alcohol in hand?," Stan asked exactly what Kyle was wondering.

He gripped on to Stan's shoulders fanatically, startling both of them, "please, don't tell Sophie! I- I I'm trying okay?," he whimpered dramatically, as Stan eyed him bewildered, "just.. I need time, it's hard when you've been so use to something, and then.. having to let go, for the sake of your son.. I can't.. I really can't lose my baby, but this is hard on me too, Stan!," he slammed him against the locker, before letting go. He turned to look at Kyle then at his baby.

"Raise that baby right, now that you can. He deserves a great father that doesn't waste his time drowning in alcohol," and with that, he left.

"Dude, what the fuck?," both of them commented bewildered.

"Hey gaywads," Cartman greeted, as he approached them from behind, Kenny walking next to him.

Cartman extended his hands, in attempt of holding Moisha, Kyle dismissively moved back, "what?," he asked skeptical.

"Dude, I want to hold Moisha, you've already kept him all day yesterday."

"Why all of the sudden do you want to hold on to Moisha, fatass? When yesterday you were so eager to drop him off."

Cartman rolled his eyes, unfazed by his skepticism, "I wasn't 'eager' but I did watched him the entire morning, jew," he stated dry, as he snatched Moisha outta his arms, "Besides, I don't trust jews taking care of my baby," he spat bitter, side eyeing him, dusting off fake 'dust' from Moisha's clothing.

Kyle groaned annoyed, before clenching his fist, "then you shouldn't have give him to me!."

"Then who'd be the neglectful parent be, hmm?."

Kyle gritted his teeth, wanting to punch him so damn fucking bad.

"Ofcourse, I suppose you forgot to bring a baby bag did you?," Cartman glanced him judgmental.

Kyle shut his eyes defeated, as he in fact did forget it, and his mother had lecture him about how important it was to carry one. Ofcourse his parents pretty much helped him out a big portion by getting him all the things he needed and giving some parental advice for the subject, but what was the point if he kept forgetting to use them?

Cartman huffed getting the answer he needed, "good thing my mom had this old bag in the basement from when I was a toddler," he took out a small bag from his backpack.

Kyle frowned, as that was not only just small but it was old and dirty.

"Before you say anything, Kyel, I washed it yesterday it's just stained like that," Cartman explained indifferent, not spitting out the details that his mother had forcefully made him wash his old baby clothes, bottle and binky, as 'practice.'

She also taught him about how to properly bathed a baby, just as to check it's fingers for any loose hair and also burp the baby, all that extra shit. What he did wonder was why she was insistent on teaching him about washing stains off from sheets, floor, underwear, clothing; he figured it could be because a baby can be messy and spill shit, but then again, it was a plastic fake baby. And how to lure a man on top of a running washing machine that was also one of her priorities for he to learn, that he did not grasp on why. He supposed that it was in the category on 'pleasing' your husband, but he just doesn't get why Kyle could be pleased by being on top of a washing machine.

Kyle huffed unpleased by his answer, his mother was right, men can really be difficult to please when it comes to not getting their way, goddamn. Cartman pouted, as he looked at Moisha 'you're cute for a black baby,' he thought before dashing to class leaving Kyle and the others behind.

"So where's your baby, Ken?," Stan eyed Kenny who kicked nothing but air in boredom.

"Annie's day," he explained with a shrug.

They all headed to class as the bell rang.

First and second period went oddly normal, too normal for Kyle to just shrug it off. Cartman has not once ask him for anything, he was starting to wonder if Cartman was already scheming something. He also had the baby with him, and in the morning he was all sparkles wanting to hold on to him, yeah, suspicious as fuck.

He tapped his fingers looking at the class clock, he discreetly glance at Cartman who was making weird faces to the baby as he heard the fake baby giggle in response. He forgot those things actually make other noises apart from whining, crying and shitting.

Cartman on the other side, was following his mom's advice, 'to make a man get you what you want, don't ask them make them guess by ignoring them and acting indifferent by their presence, but ofcourse dont make it obvious, act natural and don't make it seem like you're mad.

He'll eventually notice something's just off with you and will try to figure it out. It also keeps a man entertained with you,' he was skeptical at first, but he gave it a try and not long after his been getting a positive response, as he felt Kyle glancing at him throughout first and second period. She also had added, 'it'll work best if you refuse on giving your hooha if things just don't go your way,' but he didn't have a hooha so he didn't worry much about that.

The bell rang and both boys dashed off, Kyle actually wanting to chase after Cartman but lost him as they separated between the crowd of students.

Cartman being indifferent twoards him? Cartman running off not even sparring a single glance at him? just like he hasn't teased him in class or when he got out of class like he'd normally do?, yeah, suspicious for sure.

Kyle frowned annoyed, not being able to take Cartman off his mind, 'what is that fat fuck planning now?.'

"Is it me, or is Cartman acting weird?," he asked his friends. Now headed to the cafeteria as the fourth bell had rang.

"Maybe he's cheating on you already," Kenny teased, taking out his wallet then taking out a ten dollar bill, passing it to Annie as she passed by.

Kyle huffed, "Yeah, sure, he's lucky I'm even tied to him," he tried joking back, but it did not came out as well as he thought it would.

Kenny and Stan chuckled lightly before entering the cafeteria.

And sure enough, his eyes landed on to Cartman who was talking with some other dude from another class, who also seems to have assigned the same project as them. He frowned, 'who the fuck is this dude?, Cartman's been ignoring him all day, the FATHER of his child, but his chatting all happily with some random ass dad?.'

"Uff, I heard that dude was assigned as a single father that was divorced for being an homosexual, I'd be careful Kyle, that guy could be a flirt," Kenny warned teasingly before heading in line followed by Stan.

Kyle headed towards Cartman with no hesitation, he was not gonna be seen as a husband who got cheated on their second day of marriage.

"You know, you look ravishing when you smile like that," The boy pampered him with compliments, giving him googly eyes, unintentionally making Kyle's blood boiled.

"Excuse me, but he's already taken," he spat dryly gripping Cartman from his arm and dragging him away, earning a scowl from the boy.

He heard the boy scoffed behind him but he didn't care.

"So now you're a slut?," he complained as he let go of Cartman.

"Don't call me a slut for having a decent conversation, Kahal!," Cartman spat annoyed, as he glared at him.

"Yeah, well being pampered for 'hAvIng a cUte sMile' isn't a decent conversation, fatass. Thats called 'making a move' which you were clearly leading him on," he pointed out his bullshit.

"Maybe I like being pampered, Kahaaal? When was the last time you ever pampered me huh?," he complained, as he placed his free hand on his hip, "ever since we got our child, you've changed, you barely even look at me the way you use to, now, it feels so robotic. The passion, the flame, I can't feel it anymore. You haven't even snapped at me for being a 'racist piece of shit'."

"Oh please! You're the one who's been ignoring me!."

"Well who's that to blame, huh? I'm a human being with needs, Kahal! I need to be provoked and contradicted or I won't feel wanted!."

Kyle groaned annoyed as he crossed his arms, giving him an eye roll.

"See? That's all you do nowadays! Groan and backaway like the pussy you are, not caring about what I feel!."

On the other side of the cafeteria, both Stan and Kenny waited for their turn to pick up their tray.

"You think Kyle and Cartman are doing okay?," Stan asked concerned.

"Yeah, they'll be fine couple problems," Kenny shrugged, before placing a hand on his shoulder, "look, I know you're upset cause you haven't gotten a chance to spend time with your son, but trust me buddy it'll be okay," he reassured soothing.

Stan sighed, "you're right, I'll just try to figure out another way to force Bebe to lend me my rights on Rafael."

"Hey dudes," Tolkien greeted as he stood behind them.

"Dude, you look bummed, what's the matter?," Stan asked.

"I had to leave Tonny at the hospital again, his sick and I'm really starting to feel tired and stressed about the whole thing," he broke down infront of them in ugly sobs, "and I just- i-.. it's too much pressure on me, I think I want to place him for adoption," he admitted ashamed.

"C'mon dude, don't place your kid for adoption," Stan commented pitiful, maybe even envious and spiteful that Tolkien being atleast able to spend time with his son consider bailing on him.

It wasn't fair, there was parents out there who wanted nothing to do with their kids wanting to drop them off in a orphanage, while there he was, desperately trying to get ahold of his.

An unfair, cold sad world it was.

"I'm still gonna have it in consideration," He said nonchalant before leaving.

Now with him gone, they bashed on him behind his back, "what and asshole," Stan spoke.

"I know right?," Kenny agreed.

"Like, why have a kid if you're gonna just drop him off?."

"Totally," Kenny nodded, as they both looked his way like judgmental mothers.

"We should definitely stop hanging out with him, atleast until the project is over."

"Agreed."

They head to a table, and sat with a grumpy Kyle, who rested his chin in his hands not looking at them.

"So what happened?," Stan asked as he sat down, with a very sad looking tray; that had only a apple and fries. He was sucked out broke from Bebe that morning.

"Fatass wants a divorce, I told him it wasn't possible cause we were assigned to be a married couple not a divorced one and he dashed off with the baby," he grumbled out, as he tapped his finger against the table.

"Damn, filing for divorce on your second day of marriage?," Kenny asked, as he shake his head in disapproval, "you should try to win him back."

Kyle looked up, "and how'd I do that?."

"It's fatass, it can't be that hard to please," Stan commented unfazed, as he ate some fries.

"Maybe buy him a gift or some flowers?, chicks like that sorta shit," Kenny suggested as he bit his chicken sandwich.

Kyle arched a brow, "but he isn't a chick though."

"He kinda acts like one," Stan starkly remarks.

They all laugh by that, as it was indeed true, atleast Kyle believed it was. Cartman's had been acting like a complete bitch this entire time, it was starting to get him.

Not that he doesn't get under his skin all the damn time but damn, this time he's really feeling it. But he really doubted a gift or some flowers would make him win Cartman back.

He must recall the ways things were before Moisha came in the picture, it was all punches, schemes and shitty arguments between the two.

Maybe he should punch Cartman for old memories sake? He hasn't been able to do that since the PC children have been vigilantly walking the hallways.

He sighed as he rested his head on his arms covering his face.

Panic surge in his body, as Cartman had not entered sixth and seventh period. He was worried for the baby, what if something happens to it and his grade will flunk because the fat asshole couldn't keep his shit together.

The bell rang finalizing school hours, he grabbed his things and dashed out looking for Cartman and Moisha. He looked everywhere and couldn't spot them, 'what if Cartman had left school already?'

He cursed himself inside for not being careful enough, he already had a feeling Cartman had something planned on but not to this degree on putting the baby's sake at risk.

He halted, as he spot in some bench inside the gym a familiar red jacket.

He jolted as he jogged inside, sending daggers at Cartman who didn't bother looking his way.

"Why did you skipped class, fatass?," he asked, as he tried snatching Moisha away, "an why are you here?."

"First, I didn't want to see you, Kahal. Second, one of the perks of having a black son means he could be a future basketball star," he gesture the boys that now entered the gymnasium with basketball uniforms, "and ofcourse, my son will be raised to be famous, it's best to teach them at a young age."

"I think that's for our son to decide, fatass."

"Think about it, kahal, if you couldn't manage to be in the big leagues maybe this is a sign for you to pore your knowledge on to Moisha and see him triumph as the basketball star you always dreamt to be."

Kyle crossed his arms in thought, actually reconsidering the obvious manipulation tactic Cartman was using on him.

Moisha did have all the looks of becoming a star, maybe Cartman wasn't too far off.

Cartman smirked as he watched Kyle consider it, 'time to use tactic 3' he gestured Kyle to sit next to him. Kyle arched a brow confused as he reluctantly did exactly that. His mom was right, using the 'I'll break up with you' method really makes a man chase you.

He flattered his eyes innocently making Kyle look at him weird, he rested his head on his shoulders sighing lightly, "Maybe this is it, kahal.."

"What is?." Kyle questioned dumbfounded, oblivious of his manipulative flirtation. He was too focus on how close they were.

"To reconstruct our relationship," he placed his hand on to his, now looking up at him, "Maybe we can find the flame again," he 'boop' his nose, as he giggle like a high-school girl.

Kyle was baffled by the gesture and tone Cartman used, it was new, but he found himself actually liking it.

"Okay," he blurted out in seconds.

'Bingo,' Cartman thought, amazed that his mother's advice actually worked so well on Kyle.

They sat there for an entire hour, watching the boys play as Kyle would sometimes bring up some strategies to Moisha, actually expecting the baby to listen.

°°°°

Day three

Kyle was wakened up by distraught parents, who found themselves in distress cause they haven't been able to see their grandson for an entire day, as it was Cartman's turned to take Moisha home yesterday.

He doesn't get them sometimes, the other day they were complaining about him leaving his kid for hours with them and now they wanted him back?

"Guys, calm down, didn't you guys wanted a break from Moisha?,"

"No, Kyle, we wanted a break from your irresponsibility never from our grandson," his dad spat in an arrogant tone, sipping his coffee with very displeasure.

"It's true, and even if we did, children don't actually listen to their parents when they refuse to babysit their grandkids; you normally act like you understand then later on manipulate us with emotional manipulation using are grandson to get us to babysit him." His mother explained, now dropping her fork in the salad she was eating.

"Exactly," his dad added, as he groaned annoyed, rolling his eyes disappointed, "Dammit, and I told Randy I'll take my grandkid to the grandparents/grandchildren rally this evening, goddammit Kyle! Thanks for nothing!," his dad jolted up angry, now leaving the kitchen.

His mother also followed behind not before she scowled him with a 'you should know better, Kyle.'

Kyle rested his hand on to his chest, as he groaned heavily.

At class things seemed to go normal, except for Butters; who was called by Mr. Mackay claiming he needed to talk with him, and Butters cursing himself under his breath with a 'crap, he caught me' before storming off the classroom, Sofie glaring at him from her seat with a loud 'huff,' with an added '¡Shut up you stupid whore! I saw you messing around with Nichole the other day!' As he slammed the door, the couple of girls gasped. He was a wrecked of a drunk, he only assumed that's why Mr. Mackay call him in today. That boy needs some serious help.

He and Cartman on the other side talked things out and agreed on trying to make it work again, so he forces himself to snap back at him with any annoying comment he'd say in class, even though he felt too tired to keep it up. But he promised himself he'll win that flame back, even if he had already got tired of it before first period ended.

Maybe Cartman's was right? As hard for it was to admit it, the flame wasn't there, he was too exhausted to keep up with Cartman's shit anymore he can't even recall when was the last time he enjoyed fucking up the fatass schemes or arguing back when he was wrong, or teasing him for being a bigoted fat racist asshole.

He sighed, things weren't this complicated before Moisha arrived.

A week in and the school was absolute chaos.

"So how's things with Bebe?," he commented as he eyed Clyde and Tweek arguing in the hallway of who's fault was it to leave 'Evy' (their daughter) in the window.

And at the end of the hall way Craig and Wendy were protesting for equality, being against racism and shit like that, their baby hanged in a bouncy pouch they had added there to keep him busy.

"Well I finally spoke to PC principal the other day and he forced Bebe to give me my rights on Rafael," Stan answered dodging a couple who fought for who'd go to their child's school play they seemed like a divorced couple.

"Oh, that's great dude," he commented genuinely excited for his best friend.

"Yeah, but.."

"But what?," he arched a brow in confusion, before turning to look at Jimmy who was in floor sobbing with flyers that said '5 bucks for an hour of fun.'

"Well I got my rights, but ever since, I take him home and my parents just bash in and take him away from me. Well my dad mostly, teaching him about the weed industry and all about the farm." He pinched his nose annoyed, "fuck, the other day he called my dad 'dada' and you know what my dad did? He dance victorious while I sat there defeated!."

"Damn, dude, he already said his first word?," Kyle commented in disbelief, "and your dad outta all people."

"I know! It's fucking unbelievable," he spat angrily, as they denied a cupcakes from a hardworking couple who wanted to sustain there baby by creating a baking business together.

Kyle looked at his left and saw Heidi and Nichole yanking their hair off Heidi cussing her out calling her a 'no good whore' while Nichole defended herself while blaming Heidi for her own shit 'you're a bitch! What did you expect!?.'

He then looked at his right where Scott and Jenny were being comforted by the PC children, bawling out about their grief and then blaming each other for who did it, 'if it weren't for you, bitch, he would've still be here,' 'you were the one who left him outside!' She defended before getting into a physical fight as the PC children tried to restrained them from provoking further damage.

He walked pass them leaving Stan behind who'd had stopped to talk with Butters, he was headed to class but immediately stopped his tracks as he saw Cartman being all flirtatious with that same dude that was pampering him not long ago. He had his arm rested in his shoulders as Cartman twirled a strain of his hair as he holds on to Moisha.

That slut.

He stomped twoards them and shove that asshole away from Cartman.

"Excuse me!?," he exclaimed now looking at the fatass.

"Oh, hey Kyle.." he murmured avoiding his glare with indifference.

"Oh? So now I'm just 'KYLE'," he barked back.

The boy long gone not before he snorted smugly and winked at the fat fuck.

"That is your name isn't?," he responded bored, unfazed by his anger, looking at his fingertips.

He slammed Cartman against some lockers making Moisha cry from the harsh gesture.

"Owe, Kyle, the fuck!?," Cartman screeched, as he held protectively over Moisha.

"You're pushing it, Cartman!," he screamed, now long caring for his grade and the stupid act they were doing.

He would rather be sent to jail than to ever see Cartman snuggled against some dude's arms.

"You weren't doing anything what did you expect me to do? Wait for you until you finally decide you want to take me over!?,' he blurted out, red puffed cheeks in anger.

"I THOUGHT we were already in good terms!."

"You thought wrong!," he screeched out loud before letting loose from his grip, "I'm an independent man, Kyle, I can raise our son all alone. I don't need you, when was the last time you payed for Moisha's food hmm?."

"Yesterday morning!."

Cartman huffed, "Bradley said he could do that for a daily," he soothe Moisha down.

"I thought you were a 'independent' man, fatass!?," he pointed out his bullshit once more.

"Yes, I am, which is why I can pick and choose between being one; to get you away and also becoming a house husband if I want it the easy way, making men fall down to my feet and give me money," Cartman smirked smugly making Kyle's anger finally getting to its limit.

Kyle slowly stood infront of Cartman, gently taking out Moisha from his arms and placing him to the ground, before punching Cartman to his face making him fall. He jumped on top of him giving the second punch now starting a fight between the two as they roll over each other one trying to dodge bullets and the other being the one to shoot them.

Cartman slapped him but Kyle punched back even harder, both stumbled as they stood up. Kyle slammed Cartman against the wall now being able to do it more harshly.

"T-that's more like it," he heard Cartman pant out, as their breathing became irregularly irritable.

Kyle gripped on to his collar brushing their nose together, now feeling Cartman's breath against him unintentionally licking his lips by the immense tension between them.

Cartman phone buzzed as he took it out from his pocket still not letting his gaze away from Kyle, then glancing at it.

'Baby stutus: kidnapped'

They both snapped turning to the spot were they had left Moisha, and jesus christ, fuck.

They looked everywhere, running fanatically around the school, also trying to avoid being seen from PC principal and the PC children.

"This is your fault," Cartman panted tirelessly, as he scowled him.

"I- I swear, if I get an F, fatass, I'll kill you," Kyle threatened as he tried recovering his breathing.

"Eric Cartman, Kyle Brofloski," they heard the PC principal called them out, as the were in the the playground.

"Fuck," Cartman grunted.

°°°°

"You must be wondering why a call you in to my office," PC principal said sternly, as he had his arm's crossed.

"We're, so—rry PC principal we didn't mean it," Both said in a rehearsed tone, looking elsewhere avoiding the man's stare.

"For what?," he asked, snapping their attention, "I'm here to congratulate you for the splendid work you've done," he continued speaking, getting up from his seat and grabbing the control remote; turning on the tv.

"No. Way," Kyle murmured in disbelief.

"As you can see, Moisha grew up to be a talented basketball star, one of the most popular players in the big leagues. He was taken away from one of the founders there as he had recognized Moisha's talent in the game."

A montage played in background, showing a old wrinkling man watching Moisha from afar when he was just practicing with Kyle; as he passed him a ball hitting him in the head knocking the baby down, and Cartman cheering from a far in one of the benches, then Moisha being kidnapped by the same man, then later being put in the group of players, then chosen and finally playing in the big leagues."

"My baby's a star!," Cartman whined out in a 'awe,' hand on his cheeks, baffled by the revelation.

Seeing a baby on the screen playing among other players, with a basketball in hand. The screen read 'Moisha Brofloski-Cartman, player 9 (one week old)'

"It's astonishing the capability of you two, but he's now moved on to become big, which grants you two an early ending for you project and earning yourself a A, congrats," He beamed proud before shoving them outside.

"Holy crap," Kyle finally blurted out.

"I know!?," Cartman said excitedly, "we should try contacting him an see if he gives us some money."

"Cartman!," Kyle screeched angrily as they both now walked to class.

Kyle got home, smiling proudly as he got an A, extra spare time and his kid's a famous basketball player. He beamed walking up stairs and tossing his backpack to the bed.

He heard some crying down stairs, probably his parents being all emotional by Moisha moving out. He rolled his eyes as he took out his phone texting his friends.

'Dudes, wanna hang out today?'

'Sorry, dude, I'm trying to prevent my dad from taking Rafael to a death weed battle'

'Whats a death weed battle?'

'It consists on a group of men shoving weed up their nose and shoving a anchor up their ass'

'Oh'

'I think I saw my dad do that shit once'

'God'

'Ik ik. Hey, Kyle, is it me, or did I see your baby playing in the big leagues this evening on tv?'

'Oh yeah, he's famous now'

'Oh shit, cool'

'So no one's available tonight?'

'Srry, man'

'I have work duty, I need to maintain my family and now kid, see yah later'

'Me too, I have to go, ttl'

'I'm available, jew'

Kyle sat on his desk chair, contemplating on actually inviting Cartman over.

Why not? It's not like either had anything better to do, besides everyone was still with the on going project in hand. Though, he must admit, he's actually starting to miss that piece of plastic.

'Did you know our kid ditched us?' Cartman continued texting back.

'I called him, and he told me to fuck off, that he's all big and stuff, and didn't want to feel bothered by us 'gaywad losers', then he had the audacity to ask if I could help him change his diaper in LA'

'Sounds like a Cartman' Kenny chimed in quickly, now logging off.

'Did you go get him changed?'

'Ofcourse I did, he's my baby. Those from the league dont care for him at all, he had his little bum with a big red rash.'

'How the hell are you available then, if you're in LA?'

'I'm about to get on my flight, It'll probably take like four hours before I arrive, maybe like at eleven I'd be there?, just wait for me.'

'K'

In all honestly, he's not surprised their kid ditched them, after all, he did had for a father Eric Cartman. But he kinda feels betrayed, cause he did everything he can to raise that motherfucker, oh well.

This must be what parenting feels like, raising your kids, sacrificing you youth probably even risking your marriage, taking your happiness away then being toss to the side once they grow older and become dependable enough to move out and start their own life, eventually shoving them to a retirement home as they grown older and wrinkled, practically being a burden to them.

He tossed himself in his bed, aiming for a quick nap.

Later that day, Cartman actually showed up at his door, they watched movies eating snacks while bashing on their son like a bitter couple. As they laughed and banter, it was a nice night.

°°°°

Week two

They were standing in the bus stop, Stan finally had a hold on Rafael having blackmailed his dad on exposing something to his mom, he didn't exactly explained them what it was cause he seemingly looked embarrassed himself, but they didn't further question it.

Kenny also had his baby in arms, though, he looked tired as fuck, excessively working for a living. Causing him problems with Annie for being a 'workaholic.'

And both Kyle and Cartman just chilling there with no worries of the world, besides the common bickering between the two.

A limousine stopped infront of them, seemingly not caring they watched as some men tossed Moisha out of the vehicle 'and you better not try on getting in the leagues again' they threatened, before leaving.

The boys still in place looked at the baby simultaneously, unfazed by the whole ordeal.

The now walking baby, slumped in shamed in front of his 'uncles' and 'dads.'

"I'm sorry—," he apologized with his face looking at the ground, "you guys were right, fame and money really gets you in the head and makes you forget of what's really important...," he continued blabbering his apology.

"Hmhm," Cartman said, arms crossed, with airs of superiority. Knowing well the built up apology was made before hand and not really meant from the heart, trust him, he knows when to tell if it's fake.

Kyle share the same gesture but looked at Cartman, sharing the same sentiment 'his words are full of bullshit' before reluctantly accepting his apology.

Both boys had developed a new sense of skepticism when it came to their son, they don't know how it developed but they didn't question it either.

"Awe I love you guys!," he beamed happily as he hugged them by the legs, both boys still unfazed.

Another car stopped infront of them, a successfully looking man looked out from the car window taking off his glasses, "you're Moisha Brofloski?," he asked the boy, earning a nod from him.

'Cartman' Cartman added, bitterly.

"Great, what're your thoughts on joining the Denvers basketball team? I assure you, you'll be rewarded with cash and fame."

The baby's face lit up, shoving his parents aside and running inside the car, "see ya motherfuckers! I'm off to be someone worth millions, screw you guys!," he exclaimed, flipping them off before pulling up the window as the car left their sight.

"Your kid's an asshole," Stan commented unfazed.

Week three, a day before (deadline)

Cartman scribbled in his notebook, not paying attention in class. Things had mellow out by now when it came to the project, some parents had managed to go through it, still with a decent looking baby. Others failed miserably some in jail, others walked in shame with a ankle bracelet, while there were parents who recently recovered from addiction; Butters was one in the crowd, beaming happily with his son in his arms, eagerly ready to be graded.

The chaotic ordeal from last week was now long gone, the actual parents in the town now focused on other more entertaining things no longer caring for their so called 'grandkids', fucking up something else. Everything just began going back to it's normal pace.

He sighed exhausted, he hasn't been feeling himself lately, kinda out of character. He felt his friends acting that way aswell, Kyle definitely stood out from the crowd. And he had feeling Kyle felt the same way.

He looked behind him feeling Kyle glance at him knowingly, then looking away. He scratched the back of his neck, annoyingly sighing once more.

The classroom door open abruptly as the chief and two policemen walked behind them.

"Those two right there, comrades," The chief gesture the two boys, "Kyle Brofloski and Eric Cartman, you're under arrest for negligence and second-degree murder, take them away boys."

"W-what?," Kyle asked bewildered, as he was handcuffed and shoved outside.

"The fuck!?," Cartman screeched loudly before being tased, cuffed and then dragged out.

Their classmates and teacher didn't even bat an eye besides his friends that watched worrisome.

"Goddammit, Cartman. This is all your fault," Kyle pointed a finger accusing, now sitting inside the police car.

"My fault!? How is this my fault? If I don't even know why we're cuffed!," he defended his innocence.

The police men dragged them to a cell, shoving them inside with some other prisoners, unintentionally putting them inside with some buff scaring looking men instead of the cell full of classmates their same age that was place literally next to them.

"What're you two in for," an asian man; buff with big arms that could squash a watermelon, a scar half spread in his mouth, asked.

Cartman acted it out, as if everthing was cool and chill not him pissing himself inside cause he knew his bitch of a mom will ground him by taking the little spending rights he had, "Oh you know, the typical, manslaughter and stuff.."

The men there blinked now avoiding their gazes at them, believing that crap not wanting to get involved.

Kyle roll his eyes annoyed by Cartman's stupidity, both now sitting in the cold cemented bench looking bed.

It's not like they haven't been in jail before, Kyle rested his cheek on his hand, bored. Time went on and they notice how some policemen dragged another couple of children to the cell next door, still not giving them the explanation they needed.

Eventually leading them to play rock paper scissors as they waited.

"Kyle!," he heard his dad speak from behind the cell.

"Dad!," Kyle eyes lighten, as both boys stood up walking towards the cell door.

"Eric!," Liane screamed behind Gerald, as she approached the pair behind bars.

"Mom!," Cartman beamed relieved, holding tight on some bars.

"Your mother and I were worried sick, PC principal called and told us what happened," the man explained now looking at the boys, who demanded an explanation.

"Dad, we really didn't do anything," Kyle spoke, eager to get out.

"I'm afraid it's gonna be hard to say this to you boys but.." Liane began crying as Gerald hold on to her shoulder for comfort.

"What?, what happened!?," Kyle asked, now more eager and desperate.

"You two got an F on your project, and you're grounded young man," Gerald firmly stated, now hands place on his hip scolding the redhead.

"WHAT," they both exclaimed.

Kyle angry as hell and Cartman, well he found it unfair but at the same time he wasn't too faze from it.

"That's not possible, PC principal told us we passed with an A," Kyle declared, gritted teeth, as he gripped harshly the bars and started shaking it pinning his unbearable anger on to it, "our kid is literal a basketball player what else did he expected us to do!?."

"Damn, Kahal, chill," Cartman placed his hand on his shoulder,

"Don't. TOUCH. Me," he spat venomous, still glaring at his father, cursing internally the principal for wasting his damn time.

Cartman slowly moved his hand away, looking at both the adults there in pleading help, cause he knew, if they were left alone Kyle will snap at him.

"Yeah, about that. They found Moisha in an alleyway, he was dead by overdosing with heroine."

"Jesus christ," Cartman blurt out.

"That's exactly why you're charged for negligence and second degree murder. And considering this all happened before the deadline you're grading flunked aswell."

"We didn't know he'd overdose with heroine, we thought he'd be living the dream life as some rich douche," Cartman explained.

"Yeah, but considering Moisha was a minor and a public figure, and you two, as his parents were irresponsible enough to leave your son go alone to who knows where, it's you're responsibility to take the charge," Gerald explained finalized.

"How long are we gonna be in here?," Kyle asked, now more calmed.

"Three weeks of juvenile prison, with the extra charges of negligence; two weeks of community service and force volunteering at the elderly hospital for a week."

Both boy's leaned their faces against the cell bars in disbelief and horror, "Jesus christ," They cursed out loud.

°°°°

Hour in and they were now moved in to a actual prison, luckily for them they were separated to a cell that was empty far from the actual prisoners cause, y'know, they were actually sent in because of some project not some actual crime. Well they did consider it with Eric, as he had a lot of crimes he was never charge for but they shrugged it off because they did not want to grasp on to that big file of paperwork they had to do.

It was pretty much meaningless as they still shared lunch break, patio hours, chore duties and visiting hour with them. But atleast they had the comfort of sleeping with out worrying some prisoner will cut their throat out.

"Homos," some prisoner call them out as they were passed to the lunch room, and the guy was pushed harshly from the guard.

They were targeted for being in there for no actual good reason but some dead doll, and because they were a so called 'couple' during the project for.

The red head sighed defeated, atleast he was grateful for not being put in the same building as Trent Boyett. Dragging himself twoards the table alongside Cartman.

"How long has it been?," Cartman asked with half lidded eyes, poking his tray with a plastic spoon.

"Three days," He responded nonchalant, as he also played with his food, far from hungry.

This was not exactly what they had warned them for, it was way worse. Barbready was probably just in town asking the other students who saved themselves from this type of punishment just by picking up some axes and chopping up some wood, tied up with a rope from their feet, singing along some stupid song as the cop carelessly drank beer.

They were literally in prison, among actual criminals.

Cartman was shoved by some big brunette dude.

"Owe!," he blurted out, rubbing his arm.

"Owe~ the poor fat baby is gonna cry cause the big scarwy bully gave him a wee wee?," he mocked taunting, as some other prisoners joined in with laughter.

"Aye!," Kyle threatened, letting his pin up anger loose, "you better quit it before I actually fuck the shit out of you," he warned.

The boy chuckled, "oweee? Upset that I hurt your butt buddy? Look how scared I am," the boy continued taunting.

Cartman eyes widen, bewildered, looking at the boy then at Kyle; knowingly.

Cartman wince as Kyle launched himself twoards the boy beating him up and starting a whole fight in the cafeteria, many prisoners joining in as they fought against each other. Cartman kept on eating as he glance at his redheaded friend beating the shit out some other two prisoners there, lashing all his anger out on them.

Considering it was an all out fight, they were all punished equally, two weeks with no visiting hours, goddammit Kyle.

Atleast the teasing and slurs lessen after that, seemingly everyone was scared of Kyle. Earning the nickname; 'red beast', Cartman unwillingly had to accept being called 'red's bitch'.

He knitted a lace bracelet as Kyle was sent to mop the bathroom floors, so he was practically alone in their cell.

"Hey red's bitch!."

He heard a prisoner call out, he stopped knitting his bracelet and looked from behind his cell.

It was a black haired dude with tanned skin.

"What." He spat angrily, not caring to offend anyone there, no one dared messing with him anymore.

"How long will it'll take for your call?."

"Why?," he asked suspiciously.

"Do me a favor and call my mom for me," He asked.

"And whats in it for me?," there were no so called 'favors' in prisons, that's what he had learned the first time he was sent to juvie.

"I'll give you two strings a red and green, they're new my mom just sent them not long ago. I need to know if my sisters are doing alright," He pleaded.

Cartman hesitated, "hmm.. alright, those strings do sound tempting. Alright give me the number, your name and the strings, and tomorrow I'll call her."

"Sweet," He heard the prisoner blurt out as he went further in his cell searching for just that.

As that day ceased, Cartman now found himself making a small keychain, he's developed a little bit of insomnia since he's got there but that was okay he distracted himself just knitting bracelets, he figured it could be the change of place, maybe even a little bit homesick. He turned to look at Kyle who was already fast a sleep, then he looked at the strings that were traded to him, he had placed in the ground with not much intention to use them so soon. But he contemplated the colors; red and green.. it reminded him so much about them, maybe because his favorite color is red; and green just reminded him of Kyle, that he did not know, or maybe he refused to acknowledge it.

And in less then seconds, he left half done his keychain to the side, picking up the strings and began knitting a string bracelet. He's always liked doing these type of crafts, they were entertaining and somewhat stress relieving. He also like the variety of colors he could use, and the diffrent techniques and things he could make. Ofcourse he'll never admit it to anyone, cause of how gay it sounds.

"Cartman?," he heard Kyle spoke, half awake.

He looked at him for brief seconds before continuing knitting, "Hmm?."

"You're still awake? you should try to atleast get some sleep, it's almost four of the morning, you know after that you can't drag your ass to bed," Kyle reminded him, he's been tracking his sleeping schedule like some bitchy mother.

"I know, asswipe, but I'm not tired," He groaned, as he now messed up a pattern and have to backtrack.

"Dude, stop doing that and get some sleep," he stated annoyed, more like an order than a suggestion.

Cartman continued to ignore him as he finished his bracelet. Kyle sat down now no longer tired, as he walked towards Cartman's and sat next to him, contemplated the bracelet in hand.

"Okay, fatass what's with all this shit?."

"What you mean?," Cartman act out like he didn't know what he meant, tying the final knot on his bracelet.

With a flat expression, Kyle gesture the pile of bracelets, keychains, little hats, little crocheted animals and flowers.

"I mean, I'm not gonna deny you're actually really good at it..," Kyle admitted, as Cartman looked at him surprised, "but, don't you think it's a little excessive? It seems like you're using it as some sorta copping mechanism."

Cartman gulped nervously, now looking at the bracelet in hand.

They sat there in silence as Cartman didn't find a answer to that, he bit his lip, as he reached out for Kyle's hand, startling him.

Kyle reluctantly let him grab him, as he cautiously looked at Cartman tying the bracelet on to his wrist, his heart pounded uncontrollably as he felt his breathing become heavy.

Cartman slowly moved back, now staring at him, "i- I just think it's a fun way to distract yourself while being bored in the big house y'know," he said casually, avoiding his gaze.

"Right..," Kyle answered back, as he kept looking at the bracelet tied on his wrist. He liked the pick of colors, they complemented well together.

"Y'know what? I think I'm going to sleep," Cartman blurted out nervously as he layyed down and turned around facing away from Kyle.

Kyle took this a signal to move, he went to his bed, smiling lightly as he kept looking at the bracelet.

'Wake up everybody' a police officer pass by with coffee in hand, banging their cells.

"Goddammit," Kyle heard Cartman cursed out, he snorted because he did warned him.

Two weeks in and finally they were allowed to get visits, sadly in this prison they didn't allowed friends to visit them but family was a okay thing to go.

For Kyle's dismay he was also visited by his cousin Kyle, they were the most painful hours of his life, and worse, he couldn't leaving until visiting hours were done.

He'd looked at Cartman, seemingly chatting with his mom, and his cousin Elvin that decided to pay a visit to Liane as she was in distress by Cartman's absence, also joining her for family visits.

Atleast Cartman's cousin wasn't as annoying than his.

He frowned as he listened to his cousin rant about his allergies then about the risk of disease that he could get being in a prison, and being butt raped. He rolled his eyes, as the only things he's done here was just craft shitty string jewelry and play in the yard. Nothing too extreme besides the fight from two weeks ago and some contraband that happened in another cell.

He wished Stan and Kenny could visit them, atleast they could crack some jokes and have a couple of laughs before entering the cells. The only worries he had right now, was just being able to get back home.

As days go on, now ended the last week, they were finally released from prison. But then shoved straight to community service, so they were sent to some dorms near by the prison still not allowed in south park until they finish their time.

They were forced to sweep the front of the prison, behind it, then pick up the trash and littering there, also feed the dogs; he remembered how one in particular bit Cartman's ass and he was howling in laughter by that. It was torturous sometimes cause the sun was beaming hot, and they felt sweat up in their ass. Sometimes they were even assigned to organize some papers there, picking up the supplies for the inmates and discarding some boxes just as taking them out from a truck.

Technically becoming their free janitors/staff.

But atleast they weren't in prison.

My god, he would've preferred prison over wiping a old man's butt crack and dick. Anything but serving for a hospital for elderly, he scrubbed so many wieners he had lost count.

You'd be surprised how many times some old grandpas had tried to force their way on him, grasping on his hair and trying to pin him down twoards their wrinkling hairy damn wiener while he was trying to bathe them. It's not like the nurses didn't warned them before hand, but who knew there was alot of groping, sexual harassment and excessive use of racist slurs in the elderly home?

He'd screamed for the aid of other nurses almost every three hours. Though Cartman seemed to had it harder than him, as some old folks liked to tease him for his big ass, some daring enough to smack it and grab it. He remembered how some of the nurses hold on to Cartman preventing him from starting a fight with a man who had alzheimer.

After finally, a month and a half, they were finally free.

They literally sobbed with joy holding on to each other grasping their freedom, as if they still couldn't believe it.

°°°°

"KYLE!," Stan screamed excitedly as they came out from the bus.

Kyle hugged Stan as Kenny chimed in. Kenny then let go heading twoards Cartman who was just silently watching the whole thing unfold. He hugged him tight making Cartman complained by the immense pressure 'hey, fatboy how was prison' not really expecting a answer.

"Eric!," they heard another voice chimed in, as Butters ran twoards them, wrapping his arms on to Cartman, who unintentionally walked backwards by the sudden weight and force.

"Dude, these past weeks have been so boring with out you guys," Kenny admitted, "like, I never thought I'd be missing Cartman with just a week in."

"Aye!," Cartman blurted out, as Stan hugged him from the side resting his head in his shoulder for brief seconds before letting go.

Butters pat Kyle's back, "miss you too buddy."

Kyle responded with a warm smile and a slight nod.

Cartman yawned heavily as he stretched his back dramatically, "well, see yah losers, I'm going home," he stated before walking off.

"So soon?, you just got here!," Kenny annoyingly commented as he chased after him with Butters tagging along besides him.

"Well, I guess there is something I can agree on with fatass, I'm exhausted and I just wanna head straight back home," The redhead admitted also stretching his back before walking his way.

Stan chuckled as he joined him, understanding his lack of energy, walking him home. As he kept him up to date of what's been going on and what they missed in their absence.

Prev — Next

[devilbeez]

Let me take you through the journey of me speed running my portfolio, smile

Mostly because I need somewhere to write this and word doc wouldn’t give me feed backs

Note that this will be very wonky because I have not thought of anything but the concept— I have 1 out of 6 characters figured out so imma color code them and call them by alphabet

Concept and inspiration:

What I wrote for my portfolio: Artist’s emotion and upbringing always had been reflected in their art. So what would happen if in a world where that part is intensified for the viewer to see

What actually started this: I want sport anime type of story but with Artists. Also this scene from Ouran host club that inspired Aster don’t question why just take it.

Story:

I’m still debating on what I want to use as the final story, they both are essentially revolve around the relationship of college kids’ relationships from friends to lovers to found family and they’re all in an art club and have specialized methods and styles; graphite portraits/landscape, Abstract expressionism, animation, graphic design, Dada-esque sculpture and then there’s the one guy that can’t draw cause every art clubs always have that one member that only join to not do anything.

Plot option 1: Anne Certayn is a college kid who doesn’t know themself. They know what they’re good at— well good enough to graduate and make money, but there’s no passion in it. Anne were hoping to float through the rest of their school year so to avoid all invitations to join a club they join an art club, what they assumed to be a club they can just sleep though. Sadly, Anne new clubmates’s energy are too much for them.

Note about this plot:

Each character’s relationship with their art, e.g. Aster’s desire to be perfect and uphold his family’s legacy and all of it being reflect in his art. His art had always be something that lean heavily toward realistic in every way, dull color, proportion, reflecting how his passion and desire are tugged away for something more refined. Meanwhile his boyfriend, Carter is someone who contempt with his life and where he is, he have more abstract and colorful art reflecting how he’s putting his true self out for everyone to see, both perfect and imperfect.

Anne’s journey to find their passion for art again after a lifetime of being discouraged from being interested in art by people who told Anne to dial down any of their passion for things they don’t care for.

This is honestly a very slice of life, fluff, maybe comedy story that doesn’t have heavy lore. It just friends being pals

Plot option 2: A love story between members of a college art club.

The couples:

One of the leader (Carter) x his friend (Aster) since high school. They had been dating since first year of college but Aster had always held himself back because his family’s legacy. Their story is going to be revolving around Aster’s struggling to choose between Carter and his family because Carter’s family is not exactly on the same level as Aster’s family

Shezaraya x D no idea what will be their plot yet but D is an animator and concept art who occasionally fight with Anne because she doesn’t like how they joined without any sort of passion for art. She also sometimes fight with E who keeps riling her up by saying “digital art is not real art” without meaning it. Shezaraya is an graphic designer She’s more chill than D but she will still shit talk with her

Debating on giving E a lover(s) or not because she’s very much the agent of chaos. You ask about her love life and it would be like “oh yeah my ex almost framed me for fraud so I ended it” and if you ask her “isn’t your ex the barista down the street?” She’d go “oh not her, the other one— not the one that crashed my car because I broke up with him, the other other one”

Characters:

I have one character designed but I’m write as much as I have. Note that these are like— barely coherent concepts of the characters

Carter Wassily

- He’s the leader of the art club.

- His specialty is abstract art, specifically abstract expressionism.

- He major in marketing, minor in communications in his 3rd year.

- His design is inspired by abstract art in history; Constructivism and De Stijl

- He’s fun loving, enthusiastic about anything and everything he love. He does not afraid to put himself out there and be his truest self. He do have tendencies to get too invested in his art to the point he forgets all time and necessity he need.

- He’s dating Aster since first year of college but they know each other since high school

- He somehow didn’t know Aster is rich until last year of high school

Aster Richman (edited)

- He’s the vice president of the art club

- He’s majoring in law in his 3rd year.

- He specialized in Realism painting

- His name will be revolved around stars because I want it to come back to Carter’s tattoo

- He also have a red ring, matching Carter’s other tattoo since his family frown on tattoos

- He’s more serious than Carter. He try to be more stoic and calm though he do have his moments where Carter make him flustered or someone make him irritated. He pride himself on being good academically.

- His family is rich. Yes his name is a pun, I’m trying make all of their name a pun

- His designed was inspired by Victorian aesthetic but the palette came from realism period of art where the color is more dull then later he have an Isabella moment where his palette become lighter and less monochrome.

- He also wear glasses after his development because we really need the reverse “took off glasses and become beautiful” trope cause we had that in Cloudy with a chance of meatball and we need more of that

Shezaraya Sunshine

- She major in Music in second year.

- She specializes in Graphic Design with the style similar to Art Nouveau

- She’s dating/going to date D

- She’s the most passionate in her work after Carter

- She dream to make music and create her own album covers

- She’s similar to Carter but she’s a bit of a perfectionist when it come to her work. Other than that she’s one of the most chaotic person in the club

- She’s also very kind and optimistic

Anne Certayn

- They major in Engineer in first year.

- They have 0 artistic skill

- They lost their passion for things they like because when they was younger people tend to dismiss them or make them feel bad for being excited about things they enjoyed

- Weirdly they’re close with E the most

D

- She major in Communication in second year,

- She also have a few Communication classes with Carter

- She specializes in Animation with soft color and visual, reminiscing of Impressionism movement

- She’s passionate, a bit snarky, very spiteful to the people who deserve it

- She was raised to be more like Aster but she rejected that lifestyle

- Funny enough despite having the same world view of “anything can be art” as E they butt head a lot, mostly because E just like messing with her

- She absolutely hate Anne at first because how they joined the club but they bond after a while and she learn to tolerate them

E

- She major in Literature in third year

- She specializes in unconventional take on art, aka Dada. She mostly do mixed media and collage

- She is an agent of chaos. Little gremlin that just here to stir the plot and yet somehow she’s one of the chillest people in this club.

- She believes that anything can be art and that art have no rule but will absolutely throw that away for the sake of chaotic debate with D

- She have ex lovers….no one know how many but she have exes