#I AM FREE FROM SCHOOL HELL (mostly)

[all-that-remains-au]

revamped atr!wally!!! we are so back omg i missed him sm -mod rozz

[hannie-dul-set]

fire and brimstone (and you’re a moth made of gasoline) — ONE.

SYNOPSIS. having fought tooth and nail out of high school, university, and law school, only to end up working for a law firm that basically serves as a clean up dog after the biggest organized crime group in the district, you thought you couldn’t get any lower than this. 

the bar is in hell, and yet you’ve managed to limbo six feet beneath that. alternatively— na jaemin is the personification of hell, and your very existence just makes him even worse than he already is. 

PAIRING. na jaemin x female! reader. GENRE. gang! au, lawyer! au, office! au, comedy, drama, romance, very light angst, this is a sitcom, hate to love(?), a somewhat questionable power dynamic, asshole! jaemin (my beloved…my kryptonite…) but he’s also an idiot, jaemin has an eye contact thing, inspired by the manhwas “weak hero” and “study group.” WARNINGS. an abundance of criminal activity (including but not limited to organized crime, fraud, blackmail, DUIs, unethical and illegal occupational practices, etc.), blood and violence, suggestive themes, eventual non explicit sex, jaemin with a tattoo, legal inaccuracies because i am not familiar with south korean laws, so i’m just using my own country’s as reference. also because this is just a stupid thirst fic. who gives a damn. WORD COUNT. 9k.

NOTE. my goal for this fic is to make as many male characters either detestable or unesttling, and make you like them against your will. in other words, meet mark and doyoung HAHAHAHAH. this is mostly still exposition!!! establishing facts and relationships and dynamics and whatnot. more jaemin next chapter. too much jaemin, even. anyway, enjoy! CHAPTER TWO.

IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR OFF DAY TODAY. You’re on sick leave— that is, sick and tired of drafting legal papers, meeting clients, reading piles and piles of documents every single damn week, so you decided to use your once-a-month get out of jail free card to stay in bed playing Stardew Valley. It’s pre-planned. You’ve already faked sneezes and coughing fits at the office yesterday. You’ve already called your Division Chief this morning. Kim Doyoung can’t do shit when you’re allegedly bedridden and downtrodden with a fever. He can eat his own ass and suck it.

“You have a new case,” he informs you over the phone. “It’s from Nalkkeutta.” 

Or so you thought.

“Hah,” a weak wheeze squirms out of your throat. “Sure. Okay. Got it.”

Motherfucking son of a bitch. Those two lines spring you out of bed immediately as though your bones have just been tased. God dammit. You’ve just managed to snag Sebastian into wedlock. How dare he throw another job at you right now? How dare he ruin your sweet, sweet honeymoon with the emotionally constipated 2D man of your dreams? 

Still. It doesn’t matter if you just got married or have a collapsing lung right now. You haul your ass, get dressed, get out, and get into your car to drive to your district’s police station in a hissy fit, as per your boss, Kim Doyoung’s, instructions. This damned firm is working you like a dog, but you can’t bite the hand that feeds you. And neither can Kim Doyoung.

“Yes, sir, I’m on my way. Are the files ready? Can you send them to me?”

This case came from Nalkkeutta. NCT. Nal. Day. Kkeut. End. Ta. To burn. The day ends in flames. It’s a name that haunts the streets of Yeongdeungpo. It’s a name that’s synonymous with loan sharking, weapons dealing, and coughing up protection fees unless you want to get your shit rocked on an unfortunate walk home— under the guise of an honest to goodness security company to service your protective needs. 

In the early 90’s, the government had a massive crackdown on gang activity and organized crime, subsequently snuffing out any emerging organized crime presence by officially criminalizing the mere act of joining a gang under the Revised Penal Code. But Nalkkeutta is relatively new. That scorching sunset symbol suddenly emerged in the district one day, around eight to nine years ago, and it’s marred the district of Yeongdeungpo with burn marks ever since.

And your life. You haven’t been lucky enough to be spared from that damned gang’s mess. In fact, you’re currently entangled with one of their messes right now.

The glass doors of the Yeongdeungpo Police Station shut behind you. You’re smacked hard in the face far too artificial lighting and sickly white walls and the words Patriotism, Justice, Honor mocking you in embossed silver. You grimace, cross your arms, divert your eyes with an impatient tap of the foot— and your arrival doesn’t exactly come unrecognized by the front desk and the others scattered around the lobby. One officer takes immediate initiative upon seeing your familiar sour expression, rustling out of a conversation to attend to you. 

“Hey, attorney. How may we help you?”

You eye the man. You’ve come to know him by name— Jung Jaehyun— even without needing to take a peek at his uniform’s name tag. You spare him and yourself the small talk and jump straight to business. “I’m here to see my client,” you inform, followed by under-the-breath swears as you fumble through your phone for the e-file Doyoung had just sent because Nalkkeutt had the gall to demand you to run and fetch the bone they left behind here without even giving you the chance to look at it. Seriously. If they want you to do a good job, they should be more punctual than this. “His name is—”

Huh. You read the top line of the document. A lump forms in your throat. You read it again. Once more. And the letters neither shift nor fold, confirming with absolute certainty that you read the name of your client correctly.

It’s a name you haven’t heard of in a while. It’s name that stalked the corridors of the place you’d bid good riddance to eight years ago with a spit on the concrete ground. 

“Na Jaemin.” There’s a bitter taste on your tongue when you pronounce his name— like your very digestive system can’t stomach it, rejects it, and wants to vomit it right back out. “His name is Na Jaemin.”

A nod from Jung Jaehyun. He turns his heels and leads you further into the station.

Empty footsteps echo against the slowly dimming hall leading to the private visiting rooms. The silence pricks at your memories— an uncomfortable sound you’ve grown accustomed to in the two years you’ve spent at Ganghak High School. It’s been eight damn years since you’ve graduated, yet one mention of a name reels you back into the past with a vividness that’s still as clear as the present.

In your memories, Na Jaemin was the guy who carried with him a pungent air of animosity and violence in his wake. On paper, he is your client, a member of the power-drunk gang that you’re tied by the noose with, and someone you have to defend. At present, he is sits right before you— tight-browed, tight-lipped underneath the singular light bulb hovering above the center of the table, looking as though he’s one clock tick away from flipping the table over (the only thing maintaining a safe distance between the both of you), and leaving on his own accord.

Your eyes meet. Your head snaps down to avoid his gaze.

“Good day, Na Jaemin-ssi,” you manage to choke out. “I will be your lawyer for the case against Yoon Naksung and company.”

You’re not sure how you feel when there isn’t even a click of recognition on his part when you introduce yourself and mention your name. You realize that what you’re feeling is a mixture of fear, relief, and absolute revulsion when he responds with, “So, when the fuck am I getting out?”

There’s a ring in your ears.

It’s the sound of your heart trying to escape from your chest.

You inhale sharply. Fuck. You’re not sure if you have the willpower to push through this, and you can’t even ease your nerves or melt your frozen bloodstream with a sigh because he’s staring right at you— impatient, as though he’s counting down the seconds in his head after a one-sided declaration that you have a limited time to willingly answer before he forces it out of you by the throat.

That fucking looking in his eyes. That damned stare that instinctively triggers you to look down, look away, look anywhere else but directly at him. It’s a habit that everyone in Ganghak used to have. It’s a habit that’s still deeply instilled in your psyche, in your muscles, in your instincts to the point that despite being the person in authority at the moment, you have your head down, throat dry, and doing your damn best to read his case file despite the letters looking all wobbly from your anxiety.

Disturbing the peace. Three counts of physical injury. Less serious. Thank fuck. That makes things a little bit more hopeful, but that doesn’t mean you’re free from hell. Hell is sitting right in front of you, handcuffed because the cops have deemed his very existence a threat to public order and safety. You muster up a bit more confidence knowing he can’t reach over the table to sock you in the face.

“You’re an alleged offender, Na Jaemin-ssi. You’d have to be detained until the trial.”

Na Jaemin sneers, a kick against the table leg with a grunt. “Fucking useless,” he spits. His chair is tipped back, head turned away. You firmly press your lips together. You wish he’d just completely tip over and crash his skull and die.

For someone currently detained for a possible criminal offense, Na Jaemin sure seems very much unbothered yet annoyed at the same time. He sits relaxed on the foldable chair, shoulders slumped as if he owns the place, and he stifles out a lazy yawn— drawing attention to his busted lips and handful of scratches littered all over his cheekbone, temple, and forehead— a stark contrast to the vibrant purple splotch painting over his right jaw. You make a mental note to schedule a physical examination on his ass to record his injuries. 

“But…I can make sure you don’t get arrested” You proceed with caution. His evident annoyance is flecked with momentary interest. You suck in a deep breath. “Were there any other people involved besides you and the three witnesses? Was anyone else there?”

You’re not sure what you were expecting as a response. Whatever it’d be, you just hope you get some useful information. Any sort of information. However, it seems like you just asked the wrong question.

“The fuck? Hell, if I know.”

All that interest is eradicated by a sharp glare. Na Jaemin lets out a huff and a sneer. You’re stressed. You’re beyond stressed. This is impossible. Of all people, why did it have to be him? Back then, you’d always had a feeling that he was part of something sketchy, whether it be some ragtag juvenile group or whatever the fuck. You didn’t care enough to find out. But, christ jesus, he just had to be in fucking Nalkkeut. 

That sun tattoo sprawled on the back of his impatient hand— the gang’s symbol, sun rays etched into the bumps of his veins and calloused skin— tap, tap, tapping on the table with the clunk of his handcuffs tells you that he isn’t just some disposable grunt either. The urgency in Kim Doyoung’s tone when he called earlier confirms that dreadful conjecture as well. He’s up there. Way up there, and you have no choice but to fight back the urge to swallow your own tongue.

“I—I understand. That’s fine. Then…can I ask what events led to the incident?” you tentatively try to prod, taking a peek at his expression to see if you’re greenlit to ask this. His face brightens up. One corner of his mouth twitches upward, revealing a sliver of teeth. You flinch. He looks deranged.

“That bucket wearing dumbass looked me in the eye,” he starts, smiling. “So I punched him right in the socket. Then his friends decided that they wanted a beating too.” 

Na Jaemin is leaning back on the flimsy plastic chair as if he’s reminiscing a happy memory. Jesus christ. He’s always been like this, but it never fails to scare you shitless. You’ve always wondered why he was so insane, but the fact that he currently is and has been in Nalkeutta explains a lot of the things you’ve seen in high school. No high schooler had any business pulling up the gate with a BMW, nor was it reasonable for anyone at your age at the time to afford at least five Cartier watches considering the neighborhood you were in. Yet Na Jaemin and his lackey’s always showed up in the days that he thought was convenient in some sort of Chanel tracksuit and dozens of gold and silver accessories.

You were lucky enough to have never gotten punched in the nose with the absurd amount of rings on his fingers— a taste which he seems to carry until today, you notice while keeping your eyes down and trained on the table. They aren’t allowed to keep any personal belongings in the holding cells, jewelry included, fucking obviously. How this guy managed to keep his is beyond your imagination. 

“So, it wasn’t one-sided,” you try to confirm, try to get a good enough testimony to help his and your sorry ass in court. “Can you testify their participation during the trial?”

Wrong move. Very wrong move.

You jump in your seat when he suddenly lurches forward, chained palms slamming against the rocky table with a loud thump and a clink. “Hey, Little Miss Attorney. Listen very carefully,” he rasps. He’s leaned in closer now, making it a hundred times more difficult to keep your head down and not look him in the eye. “I beat all three of them half to death, and that’s all that matters. This question and answer bullshit is pissing me off. Are we done here? Can you fucking leave now?”

You’re scared shitless. You really are. It’s two years worth of trauma suddenly jumping you from behind a wall and throttling the air out of your lungs— of course you’re fucking terrified, and Na Jaemin can smell it like the rabid dog he is.

The problem is, he isn’t the worst of your fears. This mutt is leashed to an owner that would have your head as a dinner treat if you don’t manage to get him out of this stupid cage. So you don’t have much of a choice in the matter. Damned to hell if you do, damned to an even deeper hell if you don’t.

“Na Jaemin-ssi,” you start. Your jaw is tight. It takes everything in your power to force it open and speak. “I need you to cooperate with me so I can get you out of here. Help me help you, alright?”

You’ve really been trying your best to phrase your sentences in a way that doesn’t sound demanding, that you’re leaving it hp to him because you know this bastard doesn’t like being told what to do. But your careful attempts don’t matter against a volatile son of a bitch. “Why’d you even need my help? Ain’t that shit your job?“ he barbs, a slight scoff hanging off at the end. “Seems like Mark hired a useless fucking lawyer.”

Twice. He just called you useless twice. The sheer level of offense you feel momentarily overpowers your nerves— a biting tick near the side of your temple, and you dig your fingers into the clothed skin of your thigh. 

The Mark he’s referencing did not hire you because you’re useless. In fact, that guy regularly asks for you specifically whenever his gang is caught in any civil or criminal trouble because you’re the only damned attorney willing to get her hands dirty to find an out— and competent enough to pull it off in exchange for an extra zero on your commission. 

Meaning, this bastard is at your mercy. And he has the audacity to piss you the fuck off.

“Strike a nerve?”

Apparently, you failed to hide the scowl polluting your expression. When you sneak a glance at Na Jaemin, he appears to be amused at his successful non-attempt to get under your skin, a lazy, lopsided grin on his face. 

You get it together. Mark Lee, that fucking bastard. It had been fine for the past few months when all you’ve had to mediate were petty settlements and bails and lesser criminal offenses, but you’ve never had to deal with one of his executives directly before— who just so happened to be your high school bully, at that. You close your eyes shut, press your lips together, and release a deep breath from out of your nose as you stand up.

“I’ll handle it. There’s nothing for you to worry about, but I will need to arrange a meeting with you again before the trial.”

Na Jaemin simply shrugs and waives you off. Your tight lips force themselves into a smile as you nod and stomp your way out.

Fucking bastard, fucking piece of shit, fucking, god damn it—

You leave the station with a jumbled up head and with all your five senses screaming themselves into oblivion. Shit. Fuck. What the fuck. Had Kim Doyoing emailed you the file a lot earlier, you wouldn’t have gone here and welcomed yourself directly into hell. You could try to settle with the victims, but in case they won’t agree to a compromise, you’d have to pull a defense out of your ass considering that your client is the most uncooperative asshole you’ve ever been cursed to deal with.

It doesn’t help that spending two years in high school with Na Jaemin is reopening pages and pages of trauma that you thought you’d successfully managed to file away— stored in a safety vault in a little corner of your head that need not be reopened. But just meeting him— talking to him directly when you’ve never even dared to before— brought a rusty crowbar to that vault, mercilessly ripping it apart.

Having cancelled your off day, the car ride to your office building is spent thinking about how to scrape up a case to defend the bastard you thought you’d finally been freed from eight years ago. The bastard who’d made the last two years of high school a literal level hell of dread and desperation.

Even for Nalkkeutta, this has got to be the worst kind of torture anyone could ask for.

*‎

The next morning, Nalkkeutta’s boss is gracious enough to answer your request for a meeting. 

Mark Lee shows up to the conference room of JSS’s Criminal Division, accompanied by a polite knock on the already open door, a humming smile, and a Kim Doyoung— who you very clearly don’t remember inviting to this meeting. Mark enters the room with a good morning. You nod and your eyes skip over him, flitting over to meet your boss’s gaze by the door instead. “You must be very busy, sir. What are you doing here?”

The wrinkle that forms between Doyoung’s eyebrows signifies that he very much understood your polite version of a fuck off. “I just wanted to escort our client,” he replies, adjusting his glasses. 

You smile at him. “The escorting usually ends when the client has arrived at their destination.” 

Doyoung’s jaw stiffens. Mark seems to be sufficiently entertained by the exchange, attention hopping back and forth between you and your boss. The latter surrenders and ends the episode with a sigh and a nod, completely glossing over you to speak to Mark instead. “Mr. Lee, please let me know if you need anything.”

You hear Mark respond in a pleasant tone, “Don’t worry, I know I’m in good hands,” but you don’t look at him yet. You force the gravity of your gaze onto Doyoung— an unwavering smile that creeps him out just enough to finally give up and leave the room, shutting the door behind him with a click, and finally allowing you to relax your shoulders and sink into the glossy, wooden table.

“Ugh.”

Stuck-up prick. The bane of your fucking existence, had it not been for the reappearance of Na Jaemin, the other capricious asshole in your life. Your head cocks up, hearing the scratching noise of a chair being pulled out. Mark sits right in front of you, maintaining a smile. “Bad morning?” And you finally speak your first words to him, in the form of a raging rant about his hot mess of an executive.

“Hey, be honest, do you want me fired? Do you want me to make my first ever loss? Your employee, Na Jaemin, told me he got into this mess because Yoon Naksung and his friends were looking at him for too long. Does that make sense to you? Is that how a sane man operates? How the hell am I supposed to defend that in court? How the hell am I supposed to defend his ass when he gives me fucking nothing to work with, and all while having the balls to call me useless?”

You’re out of breath by the end of it. Whew. That felt so freaking good. 

“Sorry.” You eject yourself out of your tantrum upon hearing Mark’s not-so-apologetic apology. You leer at him from across the table, watching the stillness of his apparent pleasant expression. “Jaemin can be kind of rude sometimes.”

This guy is Nalkkeutta’s boss, you remind yourself. He’s the source of your fattened up bank account and worsened sense of justice and morality for the past five months—

“Rude is an understatement. He’s a fucking piece of shit.”

—and he’s also somewhat your friend.

“I’ve never seen you this angry.” Mark laughs, relaxing into his seat. “Was he that bad?”

Nalkeutta and JSS Law firm’s partnership has existed prior to your employment here. However, you’ve know Nalkkeutta’s boss even before you’ve entered law school, much less started working here. Kim Doyoung doesn’t know this, obviously. Their background check on you did not go as far as finding out your regular patrons throughout the four years you spent working at a run-down cafe-bar downtown throughout the entirety of your undergrad.

The cafe’s name was The Hangman. Pirate-themed, which was used as a frequent justification by your boss to never fix the broken chair legs, unkempt storage boxes, and occasional leaky ceilings. They add to the aesthetic, he says. 

Anyhow, it was then that you first met Mark Lee, around three weeks into your first shift. He’d usually come in at around 10 p.m., order an old fashioned at the counter, flash you a pretty and boyish smile, then quietly read on the same spot until one in the morning before thanking you and leaving. Each time, you clock the hardbound cover titles. The Laws of Human Nature. Man’s Search for Meaning. Leviathan. Confessions of an Economic Hit Man. 

Frankly, the crap he regularly reads worked better to make him look more daunting than his overall appearance. Mark Lee wore the visage of a cute, college literature major— covered in knit beanies and warm cardigans and all— but carried books and ordered drinks that made him seem like he was fifty-seven years old. The only time you found an opening was the time he finally brought a long something other than self-help or pretentious nonfiction. Kafka on the Shore. “I didn’t peg you as a Murakami guy.” 

Mark Lee was taken aback when you first talked to him. He asked what made you say that. 

You referenced the previous books he’d been carrying along. He blinked, laughed, then said that he actually preferred reading fiction. He’d only been reading all that obnoxious bullshit (your words) because he was fascinated with the mental gymnastics (his words) some people were capable of, and he was just compelled to read more. You’re still not sure how much of that defense was true, but that doesn’t really matter because your conversations gradually strayed away from books to your daily life instead— your classes and readings and the annoying customers you’d regularly had to deal with at work. It’s mostly you doing the talking, and it’s mostly because you otherwise had no one else to talk to to kill time during your night shifts at The Hangman.

“Was he that bad?” you parrot, sarcastically. “He said that you did a shit job picking a lawyer. You tell me, Mark Lee. Do you think your executive is a stellar guy?”

Mark only laughs. You grunt and slump in your seat, arms crossed as you observe Mark’s expression from across the table. It seems like he doesn’t mind you talking shit about his people this much. His lips are pressed in a perpetual, easygoing smile as he eyes the set of folders and documents on your side. You bite the inside of your cheek. From his appearance alone, you wouldn’t have guessed him to be the head of the most notorious gang in the underbelly of Yeongdeungpo. In fact, you would never have guessed it if you didn’t take an extra shift one day at The Hangman. 

You ended up staying later than your usual 2 a.m. to cover for a co-worker. It was a weekend, so you didn’t mind much. Mark Lee hadn’t shown up that night. That is until you saw him come in at the store thirty minutes after two— deviating from his usual routine in more ways than one when he didn’t stop to order a drink, when he was with someone else who you were frankly too intimidated to look at for too long. When he went in and up the staircase at the back of the bar that was otherwise off limits because it led to your boss’s office in the upper area— and none of your supervisors came to stop him nor even attempt to look at him when he came back out with his big, scary companion walking three steps behind him while carrying a large and heavy looking black bag.

This happened a few more times. And Mark Lee would always smile at you when he’d pass by the bar counter. That’s when you knew something was up. But you knew better than to dig your nose into that kind of business. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t have the ability to see the future back then.

You look at the guy sitting in front of you right now. Mark Lee’s eyes flit up from your documents to look at you again, hands clasped together and resting gingerly on the conference table. “I’d sincerely like to apologize on his behalf,” he starts. You feel a thump in your chest.  “But I hope his uncooperativeness isn’t making it impossible for you to win the case, attorney.”

Yup. That was a threat. Get my errand dog out of jail— even if he bites you in the process, is what he’s trying to say. Mark Lee may have been your bar regular and friend at some point, but right now he is your client— the most important client your firm has ever had the pleasure of receiving. He is not your friend right now. He is your high school bully’s boss. He is the head of the biggest organized crime group in the district. And your law firm is just one of the many cogs running his criminal machinery. One slip up, and he could just wrench you out without a second thought.

“Of course it’s not impossible. What do you think of me?”

You slide the first file you have down the table. Even if Na Jaemin is fucking useless, you’re not letting him ruin your flawless performance record. You’re not letting him give Mark Lee a reason to throw you away.

“What’s this?”

“The witness list. Yoon Naksung, Hong Hyunjae, and Ma Gildong,” you start. “Your dog fucked them up really badly. I already met their lawyer. He was being dodgy about it, but I doubt they’d let him off with a simple settlement.”

A glint flickers in Mark Lee’s eyes are your introduction.

“I already have another meeting scheduled with him this week. I’d like to talk to the three victims personally, but you know I’m not allowed to do that.”

He hums, glossing over your file before setting it back down on the table, fingers pressed firmly on the page as he looks up with a pleasant smile. “When should I take care of them?”

A shiver crawls down your spine. “I’ll let you know depending on how the second meeting goes,” you answer. “Even if the three of them testify, there won’t be enough evidence to prove his guilt beyond reasonable doubt based on what the prosecution has so far. I don’t know why the fuck their counsel is even bothering with this. Na Jaemin would effectively be acquitted from his criminal charges.”

Your client appears to be satisfied, but you’re not done yet.

“However, that won’t absolve him from civil liability.”

No way in hell.

“Yoon Naksung’s party can still sue for damages. And they have enough evidence to guarantee a win. Na Jaemin would be fined at most, and I’m sure it’d be very easy for you to cough up a couple thousand for him. But that’s still a loss for me. And I can’t have that stain on my record.”

Your brows wrinkle. You release a breath.

“Talk to Yoon Naksung. Or Hong Hyunjae. or Ma Gildong, or whatever. It doesn’t matter. It might be hard to get through Yoon since he’s the one fighting the most for this, but the other two would be pretty easy. I hear Ma Gildong’s business isn’t in good shape lately. The address is on the file.” You rise up, leaning forward to reach an arm over. You drop an index finger on the exact spot on the document you were referencing, landing a firm thump on the table. “If the court hears that all of them were all equally beating the shit out of each other in a drunken episode, not remembering who started what, instead of it being a one-sided beating from your exec just because they looked at him wrong—”

Your eyes flit up. You meet Mark’s gaze— unblinking and dilated. You clear your throat and look away.

“Then—then, their case won’t be merited. The court would dismiss it in pari delicto.”

Mark Lee seems pretty fucking happy to hear that. He’s all smiles and applause and it stresses you the fuck out. “I knew I could count on you, attorney.”

You sigh, slumping back down in your seat. “I already have Na Jaemin’s medical report. If you could get at least two of the witnesses to cooperate, that would be great.” Mark responds with a nod and a hum. You sigh again. “We have so many competent lawyers here. Why do you keep specifically asking for me? Next time, go ask Doyoung, or something. I’m tired.” You’d give up this illegal but lucrative money machine just to see Kim Doyoung experience the life-or-death stress you’ve been experiencing these past five months. You really would.

“Because you’re good,” he responds lightly— genuinely. A little too genuine for your liking. Mark shoots you a smile as he tucks his abandoned seat back under the conference table. Uh oh. Here he goes again. “How about officially joining Nalkkeutta as the head of our legal department?”

“Hah,” you snort. “My hands may have gotten dirty, but I can still wash them, Mark Lee.” The look on his face tells you that he isn’t taking you seriously. You leer your eyes. You’re serious. You don’t intend on being Nalkkeut’s clean-up dog forever. Five months ago, you just happened to have shit luck with the desperation to match. Both bad luck and desperation are bound to run out at some point. You just hope they manage to burn out before this guy could burn you alive. “I’ll get back to you once I’ve met with their lawyer again. For the meantime, just keep an eye on the witnesses. Let me know if you find anything of importance.”

His eyes linger on you for a while, still smiling. You know where his head is at. Your grimace— even harder when he asks again to confirm, “So, is that a no?”

“Hell no.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “Worth a shot.” At this point, he’s already halfway out of the conference. “See you again, attorney,” he bids farewell

“God, please, no,” you respond with a grunt. He laughs. The door clicks shut. You groan and become one with the almond table.

How many times has he tried to recruit you already? You’ve lost count. You’re already being regularly run through the wringer at JSS, how much more under Nalkkeut? Jesus, you don’t even want to entertain the thought. So, you busy your head with your  current main stressor: the Na Jaemin case. You force your face off the table with a grunt and pull out your ipad to double check the trial schedule. Two weeks from now. Thursday. Fuck all. How did you end up here?

In retrospect, maybe it was actually all your fault. Three months ago— two months into working at JSS Law Firm— you decided that you were sick and tired of being trapped in Kim Doyoung’s legal counsel team as an associate, without being granted any personal recognition or accolades. You wanted to prove your worth. You wanted to get your credit. This time, you’re going to get  your first fucking big girl case. Even if it meant discourteously bulldozing into Kim Doyoung’s office like a chihuahua looking for a fight.

Which you did, only to be shell-shocked and surprised to see the face of your old bar counter friend— who might also be a gang leader— in the middle of a very…confidential conversation with your supervisor.

“Attorney, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Too late. You’ve already overheard their conversation. They were discussing a case much like your current one— one of Mark Lee’s executives got caught in the middle of an illegal firearms deal, and Doyoung was having trouble looking for a lawyer stupid enough to take the case. 

He shooed you out, but you stayed. You simply had no choice. You had to bite the bullet. This was a spring-loaded opportunity, and you didn’t intend on feeling from it.

“I’ll do it. I can handle it.”

You did get your big girl case, alright. You won. But you also had to book a full body spa session after your first time shaking hands with a criminal— just to feel somewhat cleaner. Obviously, you’ve become a lot more jaded now. Your boss has decided to dump all of Nalkkeuta’s major cases onto your desk since then, and Mark Lee has been trying to poach you ever since.

JSS. Jinsilseong. Integrity. What a load of bullshit. Where’s the integrity in working as criminal clean up dogs? There’s neither integrity nor justice here. Yet you’re able to afford a decent apartment because of that tarnished integrity. Dirty money. You make yourself sick, but drive home and back to work again for the next few days with the car that money bought you, because there’s no way in hell integrity can give you a comfortable life.

*‎

“How’s your Nalkkeuta case going?”

Kim Jungwoo comes over to greet you at the division breakroom while you’re in the middle of making yourself a cup of instant coffee after three fucking hours of being hunched over your cubicle the whole day. You jolt upon hearing his voice, flitting your head over to the direction of his voice, and you’re greeted by a face that clearly has gotten his eight hours in.

Unlike you. Jungwoo and you joined the firm at about the same time, yet somehow you look as though you’ve been trapped here for a good ten decades. He bats his eyes at you with a pretty boy smile while waiting for your response. You grunt. 

“Dreadful. Horrible. Do you want to take it from me and liberate me from this misery?”

The laugh he gives you in response probably means a no. You click your tongue, grunting as you set aside to give him space on the counter. “Is it that bad?” he asks, rustling through the cabinets for a coffee stick somewhere. Kim Doyoung should restock and feed his poor laborers better.

“Yoon’s party won’t settle. They’re dead set on pursuing a cIass action.” Jungwoo manages to fish one stick out. “Not to mention my own fucking client refused my visit. I miss the days where all I had to do was summarize court transcripts and deliver correspondences for Doyoung. You never really know what you’re missing until you lose it.”

That was a lie, but you’re miserable. You were able to meet all three of the witnesses last week, in the presence of their lawyer, obviously and unfortunately. Yoon Naksung seems to be their leader, because the moment you uttered the words ‘settlement’ and ‘compromise,’ he nearly jumped off his seat to full-on throttle you. You’d ask why the hell he’s so hostile, but you read their written testimony on the day of the incident. He recounted all the heinous crap Na Jaemin spewed out while he beat the shit out of them. Things you’d rather not repeat out loud. The other two witnesses didn’t seem as passionate as Naksung, like they just wanted it to be over with and forget how much Na Jaemin humiliated their asses by wiping their faces on the ground and proceeding to call them a bunch of bitch babies.

Anyhow, you have your last attempt of negotiation this afternoon with their lawyer. Honestly, it doesn’t even matter at this point. You just want to let the court know that you’ve done your due diligence of attempting to reach an amicable settlement. You’ve got other cards up your sleeve— you’ve always had.

Which is why Kim Doyoung doesn’t buy your whining and complaining when overhears it in the breakroom.

“Get a grip.”

You flinch. Doyoung makes an appearance by shoveling in between you and Jungwoo to the coffee storage. You two step aside. He releases a silent swear upon realizing there’s no more instant coffee left. So, he decides to release his pissy attitude onto the innocent cupboard door by slamming it shut with a loud bam!

You and Jungwoo look at each other. Bad executive meeting. Very bad, you two mentally agree, sharing a look and a nod. JSS has been dealing with negative press lately. Director must have dumped the burden of fixing it onto him. Poor guy. He deserves it.

Doyoung manages to compose himself in a matter of seconds. He inhales, chest rising, then adjusts his crooked glasses with a huff from lips, finishing it up by giving you a lowered stare. “I’m not really worried about your performance,” he carefully pronounces. “Nalkkeut always asks for you for a reason. Mark Lee gets along well with you, too. So, quit being dramatic.”

He gets along with you because you both like Haruki Murakami, never dug your nose into his business, and always cleaned up his messes. You doubt you’d get the same grace if you fucked this one up, especially considering it concerns one of his executives. Sure, you’ve managed to weasel your way out of your previous cases without much trouble besides your inherent workload. The problem this time is your client.

Ugh. Na Jaemin. That bastard. How dare he decline your visitation request when his freedom is on the line here? You need to brief him for the trial, make sure he doesn’t do anything fucking stupid that would jeopardize your case and fuck not only himself, but you over as well. His freedom isn’t the only thing on the line. Your record is. Your freaking license is. As much as you really don’t want to see his face again, you have to. And the only comfort you can find at the prospect of meeting him again is the very clear evidence that he does not remember you— whereas your bones are already shaking at the mere thought of having to face him again.

It sucks. This sucks. But even if it does, you force yourself out of the office later in the afternoon to meet the witnesses’ lawyer at a cafe downtown. 

His name is Jung Sungchan from the District Prosecutor’s Office. He’s baby-faced. He still has the light in his eyes. You’ve never even heard of him before this case. Meaning, he’s far too irrelevant to have the gall to strut into the cafe, say his piece, then leave without even buying a freaking coffee.

“See you in court, attorney.”

Of course this meeting ends the same way as your other meetings have had: no settlement, no compromise, no nothing. You release a scoff once he sees himself out with a cocky ass grin and a pep in his step. Hah. Fucker thinks he’s winning. This bitch is a toddler in the field compared to you. You’re gonna show him just how ruthless the law could be in the hands of someone that could bend it. He has no idea what’s coming for him.

You pull out your phone. You text Mark a go signal. [Give me an update tonight]. You stare at your string of texts you’d just sent, squint, contemplate for a second, then bring up your phone to your face. [Also, please send a message to your locked up exec that I really have to meet him soon. Tell him to stop rejecting my visitation requests. Please. For the love of god]. You hit send again. You exhale. That does it. You fix up your things and prepare to start leaving.

While you make your way to the cafe’s exit, you unfortunately overhear a conversation. Not that you’d even tried to overhear. There are two girls sitting next to the counter— one with straight black hair and blunt bangs, the other one with a very bad bleach job— and they’re both just talking really, really loudly. 

“That’s what you get for fucking my man, you tramp,” sneers the fake blonde.

“I’m telling you, I really didn’t know he was taken!” straight hair screeches back.

Oh, fuck. You didn’t want to hear this drama. You try your best to maneuver past them quickly, quietly, but you end up hearing more information as you walk by. “I already broke it off and apologized! Please just take down the post already—”

“There’s no way you didn’t know, and there’s no way in hell I’m taking your disgusting texts down. All your friends and family deserve to know how much of a dirty, manipulative skank you are. So that they’d know to keep their boyfriends away from you!”

“Look, I’d get down on my knees to apologize, but you posted not only my private texts, but my fucking nudes were in them, you bitch! I’m not fucking proud of hooking up with a man I didn’t know was taken, but you’re going too far! I—I could sue you for this!”

“Hah! As if! If anyone, I’m the victim in this situation! Not you! You’re the affair partner who seduced my man!”

Goddammit. You jerk back after a sudden stop six feet away from the exit. You shit your eyes, mutter a silent breath as you continue to listen to the high-strung argument behind you. Normally, you’re not one to butt into these things. It’s none of your business, and quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck. But maybe it’s because you’ve yet again been subject to do something that desecrates the very principles of your occupation— the very notions of what is just and lawful and good— that you find yourself spinning your heels and stomping back into the opposite direction before you could even reconsider.

“Excuse me. I apologize for interrupting without consent, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

You just want to balance out the scales of your negative karma— even by just a little bit. You’re doing this for no one’s good but your own. The two girls snap their heads at you, one visibly more annoyed than the other. You gloss over it.

“The right to privacy of communication is heavily protected by our laws and Constitution,” you begin. Blondie furrows her brows at you, a loading symbol practically spinning above her head. Straight hair looks at you, confused. You keep a straight face, digging into your bag. “Prying into the privacy of another’s conversation is a civil offense and a cause of action for damages. That’s one thing. Posting someone else’s sensitive and explicit conversations is another story.”

You pull out a card. “Who the hell are you? Why the hell are you butting in?” she snaps, the sound of her chair scratching the ground as she stands up in a huff to level you. You set your business card down onto the table, the words ATTORNEY AT LAW, all caps, facing right side up. 

Blondie’s eyes look down. Her face pales. Then she looks up to meet yours. You almost snort.

“It is a criminal offense punishable by three to seven years imprisonment, or a fine not exceeding twelve million won. Or both.” You could very well be jumping the wrong ship here, but you got a fair sense that Blunt Bangs was telling the truth from how desperate she looks, and that Fake Blonde is simply high on a vengeful power trip over the wrong person. “And, considering the fact that you publicized it online through a post, if I heard correctly, it would also be considered a cybercrime. Meaning, you could be charged for both.”

You didn’t think she could get any paler. You’re proven wrong.

“Wow. That’s an impressive feat considering you had no idea you were committing those crimes. Amazing.”

It doesn’t take much longer for her to sputter out something incoherent and stomp out in a panicked frenzy while mashing something onto her phone, most likely trying to delete the post. Sometimes witnessing firsthand the dredges of humanity gives you a little bit of comfort that you’re not the shittiest person in the world. You release a breath, readying yourself to leave once more, only to be stopped by a quiet excuse me from the same table.

You look down. You’re met by the way too happy smile of Blunt Bangs. She looks cheerful. Oh, god. You’re not used to this kind of positivity. You feel a shudder down your spine and force down a lump in your throat.

“Hi,” she starts. “Thanks for helping me. Jeez. What a psycho.”

The girl asks if she can buy you a drink as a thank you. You have not known kindness ever since you started working at JSS, and, by proxy, Nalkkeutta, so you were possessed with the inclination to say yes even though you’ve just had an americano with three shots. You settle with a warm jasmine tea to spare your stomach lining. The girl introduces herself as Natty, and starts giving you an unsolicited rundown of how Fake Blonde just suddenly started sending her swears and death threats the other day alongside the revelation that she was apparently her fling’s girlfriend.

She came here all the way from Mapo just to apologize again and beg her to take down the post. And then you witnessed how that went down. “I really had no idea,” she huffs in complaint for the nth time. You take a sip from your half-empty cup, glancing at the time. It’s 4 p.m. Sweet. Doyoung still thinks you’re having the meeting right now. One more hour before you have to clock out. You decide to pay a bit more attention to Natty as a thank you for allowing you to slack off on the job. “Oh, by the way. Can I ask something?”

You set down the cup on the saucer. “Sure.”

“Did you maybe go to Ganghak High School? Around eight to nine years ago?” 

And then you nearly choke on your own fucking spit. What the hell? You stare at her, wide-eyed in both surprise and innate fear. “Why...why do you ask?” Natty takes that a yes and immediately lets out a squeal, followed by the squeal of your name, followed by a very slow process of recollection on your part of a girl with similar blunt bangs in your repressed high school memories— then it clicks.

“I recognized your name on your business card, but wasn’t sure if you were the same person! Whoa! You’re a lawyer now! That’s amazing!”

Blunt bangs. Dark hair. Sharp eyes. Pretty smile. You remember being classmates with a girl with that same description. You think they both have the same name. You don’t get the chance to second guess yourself because she starts talking about more people you vaguely remember in Ganghak— the class president who’s apparently on his third try at taking the Civil Service Exam, that one couple who apparently recently got married just two months ago in Jeju, that one kid who had once gotten his head dunked into the trash can on the first day of senior year because he came in without knowing the rules of the school.

He didn’t know who ran it. You did. Natty did. And that confirms the fact that you two had indeed been in the same hell once. 

“Hey, do you have any idea what happened to Na Jaemin? I haven’t heard a single thing about him since we graduated and I moved towns.” 

You look at her, a stiff smile on your face. She was your classmate. She was his classmate. If she can remember all those other people and what their roles were back in Ganghak, she’d very clearly remember yours as well. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard about him either.”

Natty gets the realization and immediately flinches out an apology. “O—oh, haha. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring him up.”

“No, it’s alright,” you hum, smile softening. “I haven’t heard of him, either.” 

Christ. This man really haunts you everywhere you go. Natty is great at conversation, and manages to smooth over that one bump as quickly as she can and proceeds to ask about any new hot places at Yeongdeungpo, ask about your job, you asking about what she’s up to in turn under it hits five in the afternoon and you have to return to the firm to clock out.

The both of you exchange numbers. You look at Natty’s saved contact on your phone with conflicted feelings.

Now that you’ve managed to slot the memories into place, you do in fact remember her. She was your classmate throughout the two short years you spent at Ganghak. On your first day, she was the first person who’d come up to talk to you— the only time she’d ever talked to you and vice versa. It took nine years for the both of you to have a conversation again. And there’s really only one person to blame.

*‎

(“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—!”

It’s Monday. You race down the now emptied hallways, eyes quickly scanning each door label that you zoom past in the off chance that you got carried away running and missed your room. To think this is how your year starts. You were looking forward to using the opportunity before homeroom to introduce yourself and make some new friends, but no— you just had to doze off because you spent the entire yesterday unpacking. 

It’s a new neighborhood, new school. You’ve heard that most of Ganghak High School’s students came from Ganghak Middle, meaning almost everyone already knows each other here. They’ve already formed their respective cliques and cohorts and groups. You’re currently an outsider, and you need to put in the effort to change that. You need to make a good impression to get some god damned friends and not spend the rest of your two years here as a loner.

Which is why you feel a splashing wave of relief drenching your bones the moment you make it to your assigned class for the rest of the year— slamming a palm against the door, just in time for the bell to ring.

“Whoo! Safe!” 

At least fifteen sets of eyes immediately zero in on you. You stand there by the door. You smile and nod.

“Hi, good morning.”

No one responds. They all look at you— some stares lingering longer than the others— but they all eventually divert their eyes before five seconds, releasing what you could only assume were sighs of relief, and then proceed to drown the classroom in a silence that’s so, so unnatural for a large group of fifteen to sixteen year olds. 

That should have been your first sign that this school was far from normal.

What a great start, you mentally huff, scanning the classroom the seat you’ll be stuck with for the next two years, and you eventually clock a pair of empty desks in the middle of the back row. You walk over to the available seat, waiting to see if anyone calls out saying it’s theirs, and after a few moments of no objections, you sit yourself down on the wooden chair.

The moment you hook your bag on the left side of your new desk, you swore that the heavy silence pervading the classroom just got heavier. 

You look up. You see someone from the center row, peeking over her shoulder at who you assume is you with a somewhat nervous jitter— as if she’s having an argument with herself in her own head and for some reason, you’re involved. That should’ve been your second sign, but despite your confusion and frustration, you sit still. You sit still until one side eventually wins the girl’s mental argument and she rises up from her seat, tentatively stalks up to you as the class’s eyes follow her short walk with anticipation, including yours.

“Hi, uhm,” she practically squeaks out, hesitant, eyes quickly flickering over to the classroom door before looking back at you. She inhales and smiles. Her bangs are covering her eyebrows. “I’m Natty.”

You greet back and introduce yourself. This is a really fucking weird first interaction, but you take what you can get. “Hi.”

The expectation would be that she’d ask you if you’re new here, if you’re a transferee, if you’d like to join her and her friends for lunch, but no.

Natty completely diverts your expectations by saying, point blank, “This may sound weird, but…you should maybe pick another seat.”

You blink. What the hell? “Why?”

The answer comes in the form of the sound of the classroom door violently swinging open, followed by a series of hushed exclamations, and Natty’s suddenly paled face snapping away from you within the same moment, scampering to return back to her seat at the center, without even giving you the grace of a response. 

You didn’t think the room could get any quieter, but it does, even with the sound of graveled footsteps marching their way over to you— the only thing you can see of the late student’s arrival because for some damn reason, everyone has their head down, and you felt compelled to follow and shut up and catch up to your confused and bated breaths as you listen to the chair next to you screech against the tiled floor, and feel the presence of someone plop themselves down with a rattle and grunt, and at that moment, you feel like you were given the subconscious permission to look up again.

So, you do. 

And when you do, you immediately lock eyes with Natty. Sorry, she mouths with a hand up her cheek, then just as quickly turns back to the front, leaving you to think— what the hell just happened?

Hesitantly, you crane your head to the right, sneaking a glance at the person who just yanked the atmosphere down into hell with just his arrival, the person who you’d be stuck with for the rest of the year by virtue of your seating arrangement. 

Much to your surprise, you’re not met by a face. You’re met with someone hunched over, a mop of messy hair with his face buried into crossed arms over the desk with an aura that immediately repels you from prodding even an inch closer. You nudge your seat away to the left, making sure not to cross the invisible mark marked by the gap between your two desks. The only sign of life you glean is the rhythmic rise and fall of his shoulders— invisible to anyone but you solely because of proximity— which leads you to the conclusion that he’s sleeping.

Sleeping. Something tells you that it’s better that he stays this way. That something is the sigh of relief from the person sitting right in front of you as your homeroom teacher finally walks in.

At this point, you still haven’t seen your seatmate’s face. The only time you know of his name is during attendance, when your teacher calls out a hesitant, “Na— Na Jaemin…?” after double-taking at her class list, answered by nothing but a heavy silence despite having all seats in the classroom filled. She quickly nods in acknowledgement and moves forward after that. Just who the hell is sitting right next to you?)

*‎

Beyond your control, memories from that time of your life continuously flash behind your eyes as you drive back to the firm. A buzz from your phone momentarily interrupts you. It’s from Mark Lee.

[Thanks, attorney. We’ll take care of Ma Gildong first tonight. You can see Jaemin on Monday, next week 🧑‍🎓].

Na Jaemin on a Monday. You grimace. What a load of crappy poetic irony. You reply with a thanks and a middle finger. Mark Lee beeps back with a bright grin in emoji form.

fire and brimstone (and you’re a moth made of gasoline). © hannie-dul-set, 2025.

[wonysugar]

don’t modify || jang wonyoung

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. everyone adores you (at least i do) — matt maltese

synopsis : everyone knew jang wonyoung had standards, but you were afraid you didn’t meet them like she initially expected you to.

pairing : stuco!wonyoung x gf!femreader

genre : smut, it’s kinda sweet i think

tags : wlw, hurt/comfort(?), fem!reader starts doubting herself, self-esteem issues, yn overthinks everythingg, YN YOU’RE GIRLFRIEND ENOUGH, <//3, couplez are very present haiii, i care them so much, jiwon is stewpid (affectionate), and rei lives for it, LESBIANS, worried gf wony, she loves yn guys, GUYS, now onto the sex, semi-public sex, so risky sex, ooouh scandalous, fingerfucking, making out, LOTS of it, kinda body worship, clit play

warnings : this fic contains self-esteem issues and lack of confidence, be warned :]

word count : 4,8k

a/n : heyyy… DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THATTT I’VE BEEN BUSY💔💔i’m trying to work on as many fics as i possibly can when i have free time, this is one of them<//3 i hope you like it, i personally don’t know to feel about it butfkdmfm yeah

i also kinda didn’t proofread this; it’s almost 2 am as i’m typing this out and i’m EXHAUSTED,,, if you see mistakes of any kind just please ignore,, for my sake

man, student council really was no joke.

sitting at the same table as your girlfriend, wonyoung, and her peers, you could feel the undeniable tension in the air. 

this was originally gonna be a double date, but it very quickly turned into a last-minute student council meeting, for some unknown reason. you weren’t part of said council, therefore had no clue what the hell they were on about this entire time. all this talk about budget, organized events, it all made you dizzy. the only thing that was keeping you somewhat calm was wonyoung’s warm presence and the slow jazz music that was quietly playing from the vintage jukebox, the one sitting in a corner of the place. 

you accompanied your girlfriend thinking this was going to be a cute opportunity to meet the two other girls! yknow, knowing that they seemed to be very close friends of your girlfriend’s, you figured it would’ve been nice to get to know them but it now just mostly feels like you infiltrated a top secret reunion that no one else could know about. 

and the funny thing? you were already somewhat nervous to meet other student council members in the first place, and this wasn’t helping. now, it’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but the first time that you met your significant other… yeah, you were mostly intimidated by her beauty and maturity, but also by her status in the school. it’s almost like you felt bad about crushing on somebody as influential on campus, let alone eventually dating her. so, i guess you could say meeting anybody equally as important as her fellow stuco members was something that made you rather anxious; what if they thought of you as clumsy? dumb? or even worse, not good enough for their president, their best friend?

quickly interrupting your train of incredibly messy thought, the blonde girl, whose name you don’t quite remember, spoke up. 

“nevermind any of that! we came here, on a week-end, with the intention to relax, to have fun and to finally take a breather from everything stressful that’s been going on in our lives, and what did we end up doing? talking about the school’s budget, like we always do. seriously guys?” she watched how the two other girls averted their eyes, clearly guilty. 

she especially noticed how you seemed to be uncomfortably shifting in your seat whilst they were talking, so, giving you a subtle reassuring look, she added on.

“let’s leave it for when we’re at school and not in front of y/n, how’s that sound?”

the two other girls looked at each other, then you, and eventually nodded. just like that, the tension in the air disappeared, and you already felt calmer.

but not calm enough to be confident about meeting your girlfriend’s friends and actually enjoy this small get-together.

however, you couldn’t sit there and pretend that the silence that settled in between all of you wasn’t a comfortable one, especially with the way wonyoung’s hand rested on yours, it was a nice contrast to what was actively going on in your mind.

until it was brutally killed by the dramatic sigh that came from the familiar tall and bright haired girl’s mouth.

“well, i’m pretty damn hungry, aren’t you guys hungry? cause i sure am pretty fucking hungry!“

you internally laughed, acknowledging that she was naturally quite funny. you apparently weren’t the only one to think so, considering how that also earned a small giggle from the almost just as tall girl who you assumed was her girlfriend, since she was practically always looking at her with heart-shaped eyes, regardless of the situation; you could tell when a girl was whipped for another, and it was as clear as day. 

she was more than whipped for the blondie.

“you know jiwon, if you wanted to get up and go order, you could’ve just said that.” she said, smiling at the girl in question and looking stupidly in love. 

“well yeahh.. but it’s essential for everyone to know how famished i am at all times, darling; my hunger is everyone’s problem, i thought we knew this!” was what jiwon said back, her bright smile making the dimple on one of her red cheeks, her left one, even more prominent than usual, since it’s quite literally always visible. that earned a playful eye roll from the other girl as she continued giggling. 

the pet name helped confirm your theory that those two were a thing.

“you guys want anything?” she softly asked, quickly making sure.

“nope! we’ll get something later, thank you rei.” was what wonyoung responded before warmly looking at you, slightly tilting her head in a way that silently asked you if you felt like ordering. you politely declined by shaking your head, hand waving around as you’re doing so, for extra insistence.

after that, they stood up together and proceeded to walk towards the counter to order. their hands were grazing each other’s for a little moment as they talked, almost hesitant. that is, before jiwon gently grabbed the other girl’ hand and intertwined their fingers together, both now having acquired their place in line. smiling to yourself, you also particularly noticed how jiwon, her face now completely red, seemed to trip on literal air as she walked with the reason for that was giggling endlessly. 

man, what a match they were, you thought.

rei, if you remembered her name correctly, was soft spoken and careful with every little thing she said and did, her gentle tone offered some sort of contrast to jiwon’s, who on her part, was louder, more outgoing and spontaneous. being polar opposites, they complemented each other amazingly; from their behavior all the way down to their body language, it was impossible to miss how different yet similar they were.

it seemed as if wonyoung noticed you staring at them from a distance, so she assumed it would’ve been a good idea to give you a little bit of funny context. “can you believe they’re not dating yet?” she asked, looking at them with you.

“wait.. what? they aren’t?” you exclaimed, surprised at the almost unbelievable information your girlfriend just dropped on you. well there goes your theory, “are.. are you sure?”

amused, she shook her head, eyebrows raised, “mmhm.” she said, putting emphasis on the first m. “i swear at times it feels like i hear them gushing about the other way more than i see my own mom.”

you giggled, your eyes darted back and forth between her and the other girls, in disbelief. actually.. the more you looked at them, the more whatever wonyoung said seemed to be true; despite being this close and intimate with each other, there were signs of uncertainty, as if this was new for the both of them. like when jiwon seemed to avoid rei’s gaze whenever she spoke, or maybe even when rei seemed to blush at quite literally anything silly that came out of jiwon’s mouth, which was very often, by the way.

“crazy, i know.” she laughed, staring at the two with you. “i mean, they practically are by now, they’re just not aware of it themselves yet.”

okay yeah, you thought, nodding at your girlfriend, it made sense. 

they did look like a newlywed couple if they didn't know they were married, and that just made it all the more endearing to see, honestly. you were glad wonyoung was friends with such kind-hearted and genuine girls. 

that somehow contributed in bringing back that nerve-racking doubt you had ever since you stepped foot in here, however, and your amusement was once again quickly overshadowed by worry. see, those two seemed so happy with each other, despite not even dating, that it got you thinking about you and wonyoung’s relationship. 

rei and jiwon sort of reminded you of what you and your girlfriend were, way back before you started dating, back when she knew absolutely nothing about you and was instead curious regarding your person, intrigued.

you thought that maybe you didn’t end up exceeding her expectations like she initially believed you would, that you maybe weren’t as interesting of a girlfriend than she would’ve hoped, that she could do so much better than you. 

hell, maybe even the two friends you were staring at prior thought so.

you noticed how wonyoung stared at you with a focused expression, the one she always had on whilst she tried to comprehend something complex, whatever it was. many things elicited that reaction, sometimes it’d be an important yet contradictory school document, other times it’d be an attempt to read something that was written in one of the languages she’s not so familiar with, as rare as that was. 

right now though, she was probably trying to read you, a language she thought she was perfectly fluent in, yet was always met with a hard time understanding completely.

then, upon realizing that you were staring back at her, her eyes widened ever-so slightly and she gave you a warm smile. doing your best in not letting your insecurities spill through the cracks of your face, you smiled in return, as to not potentially worry her.

“we’re backk!” announced jiwon in a sing-song tone, quickly catching both you and wonyoung off-guard as she obnoxiously placed her tray down on the table, almost dropping it. rei’s, on the other hand, was set gently on the wooden surface whilst she carefully sat down on the seat, smiling to herself upon staring at the delicious looking food, completely disregarding the conversation happening right beside her. 

you nodded to yourself, that was truly respectable.

“already?..” asked the tall and brown haired girl in response, wearing a mischievous smirk girl at the blondie before continuing, “and here i thought that we were finally gonna have a break from you.” jokingly groaning and rolling her eyes.

“never gonna happen, unfortunately for you.” jiwon giggled at the banter, grabbing a handful of fries from the tray in front of her before forcefully shoving it into the other girl’s mouth, cutting the latter successfully.

that earned a giggle from everyone at the table, but rei’s tiny and polite laugh was especially noticeable among the bunch. 

turns out she always listens when it’s about jiwon, huh.

—

“what about you, y/n?” asked jiwon, distracting you from the conversation you were about to engage in with the delicious burger that nestled in between your eager hands. you looked at her, allowing her to carry on, “are you volunteering anywhere?”

all of a sudden, all three different pairs of eyes were on you, and you only. 

you cleared your throat, setting the hamburger down, now having caught a glimpse of what the conversation was actually about. volunteering, huh? is that a thing that student council members casually do when they’re bored..?

you didn’t want to seem like an asshole, but it’s not like you could afford to lie, either, especially not when wonyoung was staring at you so intently, like she was excited to merely hear you talk.

you felt guilty for even placing a word.

“oh uh,” you focused your eyes on the table, unsure of your response and the reaction you would get. “i would, but i barely have the time, unfortunately.. you know, with my job and all..”

“you know,” rei chimed in, shaking her medium-sized soda drink around before taking a sip, “you can say that you don’t care enough, we won’t judge.” she said in a joking manner, earning laughter from everyone at the table.

that was a joke, it’s obvious that everybody would be laughing. 

“ahah, yeah..” 

except you, of course, the best you could do at that moment was crack a slight smile since you were basically stuck inside of your own head by now, contemplating whether they were actually making fun of you in your face or if you were just overthinking everything again, just like you always do.

man, with each thought you had, you felt uneasy. the more they talked, the more overwhelmed you felt, especially if the conversation revolved around you;  self-consciousness wouldn’t even begin to describe it, despite your desperate attempts to sit and actually enjoy the moment, as well as the food in front of you, for that matter.

but alas, that annoying voice in your head had won again. the same voice that always goes on and on about how every person around you thinks you aren’t enough, and that you’re uninteresting and unlikeable, sometimes just plain annoying. 

that got the best of you today.

you reluctantly stood up, which caught the two girls’ attention, but especially wonyoung’s, all of their eyes perking up at you. “where you going?” asked jiwon.

“just the bathroom.” you replied almost immediately, “sorry, you guys can keep talking, i won’t be long.”

you make a beeline for the restroom after rambling out those words, not looking back for even a second. you push the door open once you get there, quickly closing it behind you before turning the sink on and looking at yourself in the mirror. 

get it together, y/n, you told yourself, don’t embarrass her any more than you already have.

you proceeded to splash some cold water onto your face, taking advantage of the fact that you conveniently decided not to wear any makeup today. to call it refreshing would be an understatement, as it helped you gain back composure.

that’s when you heard, and noticed from your peripheral vision, the restroom door cracking open. you turned off the running sink in hurry and turned to the door, wiping the water off of your face with your palm and forearm.

“..you okay?” 

“huh? yeah..” 

she looked at you some more. it was clear that she did not believe you for one second, she therefore locked the door behind you, as to not have anybody interrupt. she was going to ask again, however, she refrained from doing so and let you speak of your own accord.

you quickly understood that she was going to ask again, however, refrained from doing so and let you speak of your own accord. you took a deep breath, then you allowed your vulnerability to manifest itself through your words, just this once.

“..i just feel like.. i don’t know—“ you tried finding the right words to say, but nothing could potentially make the situation any worse than you’ve made it, “are you happy with me, wonyoung?” 

long pause. a very long pause.

she furrowed her eyebrows upwards, “…what?” her voice was now just above a whisper as she processed your words, slightly shaking. despite how subtle it was, you heard the fear in it. “o-of course i am, why wouldn’t i be?”

“i just feel… i feel like you deserve better than me.” you turned away from her, your eyes settling on the mirror before you, once again. “i’m sorry, i don’t wanna be annoying—“

“do i make you feel that way?” she asked almost immediately, cutting you off. her expression giving away her heavy dejection despite her best attempt to mask it. “do i make you feel like you’re not enough?”

hurting you is the last thing she would ever want to do, she’s certain she’d rather die a horrible death on the spot than cause you pain.

“no, of course not!” you responded just as fast, your gaze meeting hers as you turn to face her once again, “you’re great towards me, amazing, even. it’s… it’s just that, i’m scared that you’re doing it out of pure guilt.. is all—”

she, in response, was no longer taken aback. finally having understood what was on your mind throughout this whole outing, her worry evaporated from her face, leaving room for a sympathetic expression, “guilt?” she walked your way and stood beside you, her big hands now cupping your cheeks and holding them in a warm, loving embrace. “if i really was dating you out of guilt, would i really ask you to go out with me to meet my friends?”

“i don’t want you doubting my love for you ever again, okay?” she added, her eyebrows furrowed, now looking practically offended. “i mean, come on, let’s not forget that i have standards.”

interpreting your silence and the way you looked up at her as uncertainty, she continued, smiling at you, “and you exceed every single one; you’re amazing, y/n. you’re gorgeous, so incredibly smart, talented, understanding, so kind and genuine, too. the list could go on, honestly, but most important of all, i love you, i love you so much, and there is truly nothing in this world that’ll be able to change that.. i never, ever, wanna hear you say any of that again. also, never scare me like that? ever?”

“but—“

“nuh uh!” she hovered her index finger over your mouth, silencing you before you could protest, “no buts! you’re perfect and i’m very incredibly lucky to be with you, that’s final.” she insisted, before mumbling to herself, “also, i should probably tell rei to cut it down on the sarcastic jokes, shouldn’t i.. she gets comfortable way too easily—“

“no wony, i know she meant no harm. plus, i would’ve found it funny if i wasn’t so in my own head..” 

she sighed, then nodded. and as corny as it was, that whole conversation was enough to fully reassure you again. you cracked a shy and content smile, to which she happily reciprocated whilst gently stroking your hair with her hand, leaving a loving kiss on your forehead. “i love you, wonyoung, i’m sorry.” you muttered, barely audible. 

she groaned, having heard you, and rolled her eyes jokingly, “will you stop apologizing so much?” before smiling with nothing but love and admiration in her eyes, “i love you too dumbass, so much, and i’m afraid i’ll never stop.” she added, before leaving a small peck on your lips.

you returned the kiss, having wonyoung leaning into you and gently pushing you onto the sink. your hands went on both sides of her face and cupped her cheeks, your girlfriend melting into your touch with a smile immediately before pulling away and looking into your eyes.

now being in the right headspace and paying proper attention to her appearance, you just now noticed how good wonyoung really looked that day; her long brown hair perfectly straightened at the top and being more on the wavy side on the ends, the whole hairstyle being all, quite literally, tied together by a lavender-coloured ribbon. you’ve also noticed that she decided to wear her favorite  navy blue and white striped knit sweater and tucked it under the waistband of her blue denim jeans, incredibly effective in drawing attention to her waist whilst also keeping a cozy look.

she looked beautiful, there was absolutely no doubt about that, but your mind kept wandering further. you thought about how much more beautiful she’d look wearing nothing, before being hit with the sad truth that the two of you are in a public bathroom, and that the latter was very unlikely to happen.

still though, you smiled to yourself as your eyes trained down on her body, getting lost in dirty thought before looking up at her again. once your gaze met wonyoung’s, you watched her lips form into a stupid smile before she spoke again, making you realize how dearly you missed listening to her honey-like voice despite having heard it roughly 30 seconds prior.

“and what are you looking at exactly?” she tilted her head slightly, flirtatiously sliding her hand up and down your sides as she awaited your answer.

it’s crazy how your girlfriend of several months could still manage to turn your stomach to literal mush, every single thing about her made you short-circuit; her mannerisms, the way she talked to you, the way she always put her hands on the right spot, her smile… she was clearly out to get you.

and it didn’t look like that was going to change anytime soon.

“..nothing,” you replied, taking a short pause as you took in all of her features, before adding on, “you look good, babe.”

that pet name made sense again, you felt like yourself again.

“yeah?” she spoke back, now placing her two hands atop each side of the sink that you were already leaning on. her face now mere inches away from yours, your nostrils suddenly invaded by the hypnotizing smell of the sugary, expensive perfume she had on, the one that drove you nuts, “thanks for noticing.”

it took one last dorky smile from her before you officially lost your shit and pulled her back in for a kiss, this one hungrier than the previous, and it didn’t take much for wonyoung to acknowledge the desire you felt for her, either. she’d also be lying if she said she didn’t want you just as much. 

you could taste the cherry lip gloss she had put on previously as your lips danced in sync with hers, 

“wait,” you said in between kisses, “what about the others?”

“oh don’t worry,” she chuckled, wearing a knowing expression and slightly shaking her head in amusement at the thought, “they’re definitely keeping each other distracted. i would even go as far as to say that they completely forgot about us even coming along in the first place.”

as insane as it may sound, you could totally picture jiwon completely discarding her food and endlessly rambling about quite literally the dumbest thing ever whilst rei admired her silently, listening to every word the other girl spoke, entranced as she took tiny sips of her drink, perhaps as an attempt to make the moment last forever.

the two of you giggled to yourselves, seemingly having thought of the exact same thing before the urge to have wonyoung ruin you in this very bathroom hit you once more, only harder this time. 

it didn’t take long for your girlfriend to lean back into you, now making her painfully slow way down to your jaw, then to your neck, planting messy and lazy pecks across the skin. you felt her smiling against you with relish, taking in each and every soft noise that escaped from your mouth. her hands were growing more and more curious by the second, which caused them to explore and slide further down from the spot they initially settled on; your lower stomach and waist. they eventually worked their way up your black pleated skirt, teasing your entrance through the soft fabric of your already damp underwear.

that went on for a long while, so long so that you felt the pool in between your legs growing with each rub of the finger she gave you.

“god, look at you,” she then whispered against your neck, marking it up right to her liking, “perfect, always so perfect for me.” and watching you not-so-subtly grinding your hips against her hand at the words, longing for any sort of friction you could get. 

“wonyoung–” you whined out quietly, using all of your willpower to not make too much noise so as to not let the other people in the restaurant hear you through the closed door. she heard you though, she heard you loud and clear and that was all that mattered to her. she pretended that she didn’t, however, and pulled away from your neck to properly look at you to raise a knowing eyebrow at you. the back and forth motion she was doing on your clothed pussy now much, much slower. “what was that baby?”

“please.” you breathed out shakily, “i need you.. bad.”

“do you now?” she responded, cocky.

you nodded almost immediately.

she let out a tsk sound in response, “couldn’t even wait ‘till we get home, huh?” that confirmation was all it took for her to finally push your panties to the side just enough to be able to spread your cunt and squeeze her fingers into it, which was very wet enough to welcome her digits, she slowly inserted them further in. 

“so impatient, just for me, right?” she whispered, watching you as you nodded once again, this time more keen. she then paused, quietly taking in all of your reactions to her different  words and teasing, more than satisfied, she scoffed, “fuck, i love you—“

she pressed her lips against yours again, eager; she truly couldn’t get enough of you, everything about you was all she could ever want. you couldn’t help but let a guttural groan escape from your lips in response to her two fingers fully sliding inside of you in one swift motion, filling your insides up perfectly. you were undeniably loud, but the kiss definitely contributed to quieting you down, muffling the noise of your pleasure, the squelching sounds of your pussy being the only audible thing occupying the air.

it didn’t take long before she started pumping her fingers in and out of you, finding a slow and steady pace before fully ravaging your core. she quickly pulled away to catch a glimpse of the scene happening on the lower side of things; her hand reaching into your skirt and working its magic. the sight of that worked the both of you up even more, and she would’ve completely gotten rid of every piece of the clothing that’s in her way to you right then and there,

but then again, this was a public bathroom.

and you two were very quickly reminded of that once you heard knocking at the locked door, as well as tussling of the doorknob. wonyoung and you froze, albeit a very polite pair of knocking and turning, it scared the shit out of you.

“y/n? wonyoung? are you guys okay in there?” you heard rei’s easily discernible voice on the other side of the door. your eyes darted between it and wonyoung, mere inches away from you (who also seemed visibly panicked, as well as amused.)

well wonyoung was incredibly wrong in assuming they forgot about you two.

in a silent, mutual agreement sealed by a nod, you came up with a pitiful excuse, fighting back every potential shake of your voice that could manifest itself, “y-yeah, uh, i’m just fixing up my makeup and—“

suddenly, you felt your girlfriend’s thumb pressing on your sensitive and swollen bundle of nerves without warning, and began to rub it in a slow and painful circular motion, wearing a slight smirk while doing so. your stomach immediately dropped at the feeling, and your first instinct was to bite your lip as you tried your hardest not to moan out wonyoung’s name out loud,

obviously, you wanted to, but couldn’t; especially not when rei’s on the other side, worried about you two.

the tall brunette threw you a teasing glance, her expression practically reading ‘go on, keep going.’ so, as a matter of principle, you did. you pulled on her knit sweater in overwhelm, oh so desperate to just cum already and not risk getting caught and definitely kicked out, just imagining that walk of shame gave you goosebumps, “w-wonyoung’s with m-me.”

“okay! oh and also, jiwon wanted me to ask if you were gonna finish your food.” 

as bad as it was, your thoughts at that moment resembled ‘oh my god why isn’t she leaving yet’, especially when your love thought it was an amazing idea to casually fingerfuck you again, her fingers finding their familiar pace and curling against your g-spot perfectly. you kept tugging on her top, mouth slightly agape in surprise and overwhelming pleasure as you tried to come up with an answer.

“yes!” you cleared your throat after having that first word coming out a bit too excited for your liking, then continued, “yes, t-tell her she can have all of the remaining fries s-she wants.” you looked at wonyoung with hooded eyes right after slurring out those words, shaking your head in desperation. not at all in the right state of mind to even listen to her friend’s response who then thankfully left, you mouthed the words ‘i wanna cum so bad.’ to her.

she was gonna keep teasing you, but she decided that you’ve endured more than enough for that day. with her other hand, she settled her palm onto your mouth; she knew how loud you got when hitting climax. a few more pumps of her fingers into your puffy cunt was all it took for you to grip onto her sweater as you came all over her hand, eyes rolled back whilst you moaned and pleaded into her hand, bucking your hips into her and riding your high on her palm, her thumb still pressing your clit.

pulling her slander fingers out of you, she quickly made you taste how good you were and made sure you thoroughly and carefully licked every inch of it clean as you hazily muttered ‘i love you’s in between lick and sucks.

one thing was for sure, sitting back down at the table wearing underwear full of your slick was definitely an element of great embarrassment,

but at least you were now fully reassured that dating you was not at all one for wonyoung.

[voodoo-tofu]

Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.

He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.

His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.

So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.

It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.

The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.

So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.

He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.

He learned braille.

Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?

So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.

As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.

⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑

Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.

Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.

"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.

The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.

He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.

"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"

But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.

Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.

"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.

Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.

"Can't hear too good."

His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.

Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.

He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.

He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.

Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?

Steve furrows his brows.

I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?

Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.

The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.

Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!

Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.

What did you say? I'd like to know :)

Steve worries his bottom lip.

Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.

I thought you'd never ask, Steve.

[winstonsns]

the gang when they’re jealous (request)

authors note: i’m sorry i accidentally posted it a little bit ago! i wasn’t done but now i am :3 i couldn’t find the image of the request but yeah it was requested 💗

includes ponyboy, johnny, soda, darry, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.1k

warnings: blood, cussing, fighting, jealousy, insecurity, harassment

PONYBOY CURTIS

the two of you were at school, dissecting a squid in your science class

you and ponyboy were partners, and knew exactly what to do with the squid, even without instructions

then one of your classmates came up to you, asking “hey, y/n right? you uh, seem pretty smart. you already took apart the squid without any instructions, huh?”

ponyboy looked towards him, already seeing your attention was on your classmate

“oh, uh, yeah! it was mostly ponyboy though, he’s really smart!” so you smiled at your boyfriend, and gave him a kiss on the cheek

but your classmate kept persisting and giving you compliments, even flirting with you at times

ponyboy finally sighed and suggested, “hey, how about you go back to your desk.. seems like your partner needs help.” looking around, the classmate saw all the others dissecting their squids, while his was still put together

normally, when he’s jealous, he’ll try to make a distraction so he can pull you away or get someone else to leave

when you’re talking to someone important, ponyboy will stay close but won’t barge into the conversation

JOHNNY CADE

once, the two of you were at the drive in, planning to watch a cute romantic movie together

a guy tried to flirt with you, telling you that you look beautiful and you’re outfit is tight and looks real nice on you

you thanked him but told him to stop, many times, even though johnny was on the other side of you

eventually, when the man wouldn’t stop harassing you, johnny told him “hey, why don’t you just stop talkin’ to her? she told you to go away, man..” and shook his head in disappointment

he didn’t like him talking to you, and hated him more when he knew you felt uncomfortable

the man asked him, “who the hell do you think you are, hood? no reason why she’d wanna date someone like you—“

before he could continue, johnny tapped you, motioning to get up

the two of you walked to the car, and you said “thanks, honey.. too bad we didn’t really get to enjoy the movie though..” and he suggested the two of you would stay but at a distance from the man

johnny stayed close to you in a protective way, always checking your surroundings to make sure you were safe

but when you talk to someone important, or you’re catching up on life, he won’t do anything

he loved you, and even if he was jealous, he had to respect what you wanted

so if you wanted to talk to someone, he’d let you talk to them, sometimes because he’d know you were looking forward to it

he just doesn’t want either of you to get hurt, so he’ll try to always be nice, even when confronting someone

SODAPOP CURTIS

you were on your break at work, at a restaurant

your boyfriend, soda, came to visit you so the two of you sat down at a booth and ate a meal for free

then a guy stupidly came up to you and asked you for your number, saying you were very attractive

you looked at him, confused, side eyeing soda in a ‘who does this guy think he is’ way

you said, “um, no.. sorry. i have a boyfriend, if you couldn’t tell.” but the man wouldn’t stop talking to you

he sat down next to you, starting to eat some of your fries, making you lose your appetite

you kept moving away, and he put his arm around your shoulder, eyeing you up and down

it got to soda, he didn’t like how he was talking to you, “okay, we’re done here.” and he looked at your boyfriend

“leave.” he said, and the guy didn’t listen

“you better fucking leave.” deepening his voice and glaring at the man, putting a sense of fear into him, and even into you

he put his arm back to his side and got up from the booth, eyeing both you and soda, not saying a word but walking away

“you okay, baby?” he asked, and you sweetly answered with a “yes, thank you soda.. i love you.”

he said “i love you too.” and flashed you a genuine, beautiful and handsome smile

he was glad the man listened to him, because if he didn’t, he would’ve beaten the man up, but didn’t want a lecture from his older brother darry

your boyfriend really didn’t want to worry about you, but he couldn’t help it

he loved you too much to not worry, and he knew you understood all his feelings, not a lot of people did

he appreciated that about you, and ever since you understood, he never wanted to lose you

you were the only person he felt like he really loved

DARRY CURTIS

the two of you were at a restaurant, on a date when the waiter tried to hit on you

darry isn’t uncomfortable with telling you or someone else when he doesn’t like what someone’s doing, so he tells you and the man that he wants him to stop

so he tells the waiter, “hey uh, this is my girlfriend and i’d appreciate it if you’d stop… flirting with her.”

he listens since darry has big ass muscles, and he doesn’t want to get beat up

normally, he’ll politely ask the person who’s flirting with you if they could stop

if you’re talking with someone, simply catching up or talking about something important then he’ll leave you alone

he knows you can get frustrated if you can’t finish a conversation that’s important, so he lets you do your thing

unless you want him to help you get out of the conversation

he doesn’t want you to get emotionally hurt or feel bad if you’re talking to someone, so he always tries to talk to others politely, no matter if they’re being rude or not

if a guy is harassing you though, he would first tell the man to stop, if he doesn’t then he might get into a fight with him

just enough to get him to stop being creepy with you, but not enough to get him into legal trouble

DALLAS WINSTON

he’s normally not comfortable showing pda but will make an exception if some guy is flirting with you

but the two of you were in a bar and a random guy came up to you and was making suggestive gestures to you

he kept flirting with you and trying to get close to you, but you kept moving away

you were clearly uncomfortable with the way he was acting, but didn’t know what to do, you were afraid he’d hurt you if you rejected his advances

dally glanced over to you and saw the creepy guy was talking to you, and how you were uncomfortable and kept looking at his direction

he was jealous another man was talking to you, but was worried about if you’d be safe or not

so he walked over to you, already glaring at the man who was harassing you

he wrapped his arms around your waist and started slowly kissing your neck, mumbling “hey doll, who’s this..?” and looked at you in a loving manner

dally then looked at the man, and glared hard at him

the man saw the shine in dallys pocket, knowing it was a switchblade

but he could care less, and kept flirting with you

dally lost it when the man said “how about we go to my apartment baby, bet you’d like it if i-“

your boyfriend let go of you and grabbed his hair, bashing his head into the counter, breaking his nose in the process, punching him repeatedly, blood dripping down his face

“you ever talk to my fucking girl again and i’ll break both your fucking arms too.” he whispered into his ear

he then threw the man to the side, onto the ground and wrapped his arm around your shoulders

“thanks dal,” you mumbled “that was a lot though… i think you broke his nose..” you looked back and people were staring at you two

he knew he wouldn’t get in trouble, and led you upstairs to his room, wanting you two to go to sleep

if dally is jealous but the person he’s jealous of isn’t harassing you, just talking, then he’ll most likely walk up to you and the person you’re talking to, then will stand behind you protectively and say to you “hey sweetheart, uh, i need to talk to you for a second.”

so he’ll pull you away from the person and the two of you will talk about something random, because he didn’t need you to talk to you, he just wanted you away from the other person

however, if it seems like you’re talking about something very important or a close friend you haven’t talked to in a while, he won’t bother you

he really tries not to show the fact that he’s jealous but it’s really obvious

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

the two of you were at the drive in, going together to watch a new movie

you liked horror movies, meanwhile two-bit liked comedy movies, and was obviously into comedy himself

after the two of you sat down, a man came up to you and started talking to you

you didn’t say much since you were trying to watch the movie, but he wouldn’t stop talking and your boyfriend started to get a little jealous

eventually, two-bit talked to the guy and said, “hey, man i think my girl wants to watch the movie. you can maybe talk after but please… just some quietness ‘til after the movies done?”

the man stared at your boyfriend for a bit, gave a quiet “okay” and nodded, walking away from the two of you

“thanks, keith” you mumbled, and he nodded, putting the popcorn in between your laps

both of you continued paying attention to the movie, and your boyfriend forgot about the whole encounter with the man

but if he sees you laughing because of another guy, he’ll probably get more jealous than how he would if a man was just naturally talking with you

like, he loves to make you laugh and gets a little sad when another guy makes you laugh, especially if you laugh harder than when you do with him

he’ll try to outdo the guy by telling you jokes too

STEVE RANDLE

the two of you were at the store, planning to buy groceries

then you ran into a friend from middle school, who just so happened to have a crush on you all those years ago

“y/n, gosh is that you?” the man said, and you replied with, “oh, sorry… i don’t remember you, remind me who you are?”

he responded with his name and you remembered him, how the two of you got along and were friends up until he started treating you like crap, all because of the fact he liked you

you told steve you had to talk to an old friend, so you gave him a kiss on the cheek and walked towards your old friend

the two of you just wanted to talk, and he didn’t like you anymore, so you wanted to catch up with him

the way he kept laughing at your jokes made steve a tad bit jealous, but he knew he had to trust you

but he couldn’t help but get warm, not in the good way, in a jealous way

so he walked over to you and said, “who you talkin’ to?” and you looked at him and responded with, “oh, this is my friend from middle school! we went to different high schools, so we lost contact.”

your old friend smiled at him and introduced himself and said, “oh, cool. is this your boyfriend?” and steve replied with “yeah, been together for nearly a year.”

so when you and your boyfriend left the store, the two of you got into your car and drove to steve’s house to drop off the groceries

he would get insecure at times, thinking you’d leave him when you found someone better

he’d disguise it as jealousy, but wouldn’t confront you about talking to other people if he was jealous

the most he’d do is talk to soda about it, but he wouldn’t burst out at you or get mad at you for talking to other people

authors note: sorry for taking a while! i have 4 other requests in my inbox so im working on those too. sorry for making you wait!

[covington-shenanigans]

so I'm on this app, Marco Polo, where you stay in touch with people by means of sending video messages. (there are probably other features, but I'm a free user, so I remain blissfully ignorant of them.) mostly I use it to annoy my sister. ("BITCH WHAT IF I GOT A PHALLOPLASTY AND HAD A BABY SHOWER FOR MY DICK. WE COULD HAVE ZUCCHINI FRITTERS. DICK-SHAPED PASTA. BANANAS FOSTER. DO U SEE MY VISION")

anyway, during the Hell Year of 2020, I saw my childhood best friend (let's call her Lee) was on this app. and like.

when I say "my childhood best friend", I mean the Weird Girl next door, who saw the Weird Girl that I was. I mean the girl I played with from age five until just shy of eleven, when my family moved away. I mean the girl I played with every day, for hours and hours, making up all kinds of elaborate scenarios involving our menagerie of stuffed animals. there were multiple overlapping, soap opera-style plotlines that lasted for years. there was drama. heartbreak. glory. she was the first friend I remember having. she was the first girl I ever loved, in my five-year-old way.

well, I hadn't seen Lee in at least 20 years and I was like, "holy shit! Lee!!!" so I sent her a "hey, nice to see you here, how you been" message.

again, this was late 2020.

now, I had been on T for a scant three months when I sent the first message, so I was a mere baby child, relative to the gruff manly man I am now. no beard, my voice had only started to wobble, still had tits... you get it. keep this in mind, it'll be important later.

I never heard back from her, but we're both Old, so I was like "eh, she probably forgot she installed the app" and forgot about it. we'd exchanged text messages at some point during the Hell Year, but like many people my age she doesn't really text, and I'm not calling anyone if I don't have to, so our communication had been sporadic, at best.

well. today I got a notification that she sent me a reply on Marco Polo.

I figured, well, she's replying to me 3.5 years late, but better late than never. I have ADHD and no friendship degradation mechanic, so I'm excited! yay! friend! :D

and then I remember. "...oh shit. she doesn't know I'm trans."

so. the thing is. I'm from Mississippi, which is. very very fucking conservative. I know Lee grew up Southern Baptist. I also know she's still living in the same town where we grew up and where she eventually graduated from high school and college. last I checked she was still attending the same Southern Baptist church where she grew up and her remaining living parent is still living in Lee's childhood home.

so this is either going to be Fine or it's going to be a disaster. lol.

in thinking it through, I figure either she's seen my updated profile pic, where I have the beard etc., or she hasn't. so either she's going to acknowledge this change or she isn't. okay. these are the possibilities. so I watch the message.

...the secret third option is... she seems to not realize when I sent the message? "sorry, I missed this when I was at work!" girl. what? I mean, you probably did miss it while you were at work... three and a half years ago. possibly she meant to reply to someone else and got me instead?

whatever. who knows. doesn't matter.

because I have the opportunity to do the funniest fucking thing in the world now

[cakepoppresent]

First Night

Malcolm was going to explode out of embarrassment, you can give him too much positive feedback he can't handle it! We also love a man who defends his lady!

Transcript and outtakes under the cut~

Asuka: It’s like pulling teeth to get any information out of Daisuke about you!

Sakura: It’s so nice to meet you under better circumstances. Asuka can be a little abrasive, but she means well

Asuka: I was helping my son! Now look! Luna is spending the holidays with us. We don’t have to depend on that stuffy son to learn more about you~

Luna: Since I’m here now so we can catch up without him. He can be stoic and silent with Malcolm, they can sit and watch each other

Asuka: How can I put poor Malcolm through that torture! I want to know all about him as well. While we are on the topic, I heard about the company you created with the Landgraab boy?

Asuka: So! Malcolm, tell me all about it! Your father must be very proud of you, to be so young and accomplished something amazing!

Malcolm: Um..It’s nothing really my partner was the brains behind the whole thing

Asuka: You mean the Landgraab boy? Benjamin or.. Art-

Malcolm: It’s Benjamin

Malcolm: It’s nothing really...I just...It’s mostly...I.. um...I don’t do much

Asuka: Yes! Thats right. What a handsome young man. You both must have worked hard, its not that easy to get on the 30 under 30 List. You’re still so very young!

Asuka: Hmm? Did you not help with the creation of the company?

Malcolm: I did...

Asuka: And Benjamin does he not take into consideration your thoughts and opinions? Listens to what you have to say?

Malcolm: He does...

Asuka: Sounds like you work just as hard as your partner. You’re both on equal footing, Yes?

Malcolm:...Yes

Asuka: You were a bit quiet I can’t here you. Say it again?

Malcolm: Yes

Asuka: Good! Be proud of yourself! I’m proud of you!

Masatomo: While Malcolm feat is amazing I would like to know more about Miss. Villareal.

Luna: I’m happy to answer anything you want to ask. I’m an open book~

Masatomo: Hmm...while Malcolm seems to have a plan after school is done what are your plans after completing school? Will you be working for your father?

Luna: Working under my father has never been what I want for my future.

Masatomo: If not that then your plan is to what? continue “acting” for the rest of your life?

Luna: I love acting and its something I see myself doing for a very long time.

Masatomo: I’m not sure what Daisuke has told you, but this family has high expectations for potential partners

Luna: Excuse me?

Masatomo: Does your father approve of you “acting” for the rest of your life? A woman of your standing I’d assume he would have different plans.

Luna: Is that right? What plans would my father have for /my/ life?

Masatomo: I don’t mean to be rude

Luna: You’re sounding very rude right now

Masatomo: I’m thinking about my family, about my son. He needs a woman who can bring something of substance to the family name. While you are a Villareal, I don’t see how being an actress can help my son

Luna: With all due respect I don’-

Daisuke: Luna. Let me take it from here. This dinner is over and so is this conversation. Luna will always be free to pursue what she wants while we are together. This conversation won’t be brought up again. I told you I have everything under control

Masatomo: I’m looking out for our family

Daisuke: So am I. Including Luna.

Luna: What a good job defending my honor

Daisuke: Of course. I’ll always defend you

Luna: Oh? Even if I tell your dad he can go to hell?

Daisuke: He most likely deserved it. Don’t listen to the nonsense he’s saying, I didn’t pursue you for your last name. I’m not that kind of man

Luna: Aren’t I the luckiest girl in the world.

Daisuke: I’m the luckiest man in the world

Luna: You’re right! You are very lucky, if it was anyone else I would have left

Daisuke: Leave?

Luna: Yes. Leave!

Malcolm: I wish you were here right now. It’s so boring here

Benji: It can’t be that bad, its only your first day.

Malcolm: Still! Dinner was so werid! His dad was being a complete dick to Luna. I wanted to tell him to get fucked but Luna pinched me underneath the table *tsk*

Benji: What did Daisuke say?

Malcolm: I mean he defended her but still!! She can’t marry into this kind of family right? what if -

Benji: You gotta have more faith in Luna. When has she ever put herself in a situation that makes her uncomfortable...

Malcolm: I guess.... still don’t like it though. Hope time flies so I can come back home. What are you doing now?

Benji: I’ve been waiting for you to call, it’s around 9am right now. I’m heading to the office...call me when you wake up okay?

Malcolm: You better answer!!! Or ELSE!

[asprinkleoftism]

Shuichi Aizawa Headcanons

I have been meaning to do this for a hot minute and these are just personal headcanons of mine. Feel free to agree or disagree with them and I hope you enjoy! :) Matsuda is next!

Tags ✨️: @aizawashuichi @shujiaihara

Plain burger guy

Due to the stress of the Kira investigation and problems with family at home, Aizawa would want an inkling to start or does start a habit of smoking cigarettes to help with the stress. But the second his kids start noticing the smell on his suit is when he quits and to mask the addiction he keeps a toothpick in his mouth and/or chews on it. He has stabbed himself in the mouth more times than he could ever count but its better than the cigarettes.

Listens to every genre of music known to man. He will jam out to Frank Sinatra, Slipknot, Katy Perry, the whole nine yards.

If he wasnt a detective, he would either be in opera, specifically a tenor, (thanks @shujiaihara for this one) or a high school teacher or professor.

More so likely picked up drinking after the timeskip but not anything borderline alcoholic levels.

Likes dark colors.

Will do tea parties with his daughter, no questions asked.

Has mild road rage in traffic. (Credit to @shujiaihara for this one). Nothing extreme but he will definitely cuss you out and shake his fist at you. Its especially worse if his family is in the car with him.

Drinks coffee black.

Not a big sweet tooth. Will enjoy a muffin or cookie every once in a while but nothing like L.

He is muscular under that suit. Not anything crazy but he definitely tries to work out in his free time.

Number One Nap King. Will pass out during breaks or if its slow just from leaning back in his chair.

Grows his afro back after the Kira case is done since he has extra time to take care of it.

Is allergic to dogs. (Credit to @kiyomitakada for this one and thank you @aizawashuichi for looking!!) that if his kids want a dog he will get them a dog. It just consists of just stuffy nose and sneezing nothing death worthy

Despite his annoyance towards him, Aizawa would genuinely care and want the best for Matsuda. Babysitting privileges, perhaps? 👀

He tosses and turns most nights when trying to sleep

Despite being stressed about the case and work, he is good about not 'bringing work back home' and can seperate work and home life.

Book worm. He loves to read. Specifically imagining him after a long day and he is chilling in bed with a lamp on, reading glasses with a book open.

Going off from previous one, I feel like his sight gets worse as he gets older so he has to get reading glasses. (Does anyone else imagine this or am I crazy?)

He would like outdoor hobbies, fishing, hiking etc., to help him empty his head and clear his mind due to work.

Likes the sound of rain and thunderstorms

Despite the stress from work, he doesnt grey out early. He just has that great of genes.

Beach day? Hell yeah. Boat day? Hell yeah. He would be the one to drive the boat and would not let anyone else do it. (Despite Matsuda's relentlessly begging to do so)

Kind of involves everyone but I truly believe after the Kira case and everything goes back to mostly normal they all get together once a month for an outing with their families. They have all been through a hell lot so its only natural for them to do that. (I honestly may do a beach day headcanons for all of them)

Scotch and whiskey drinker

60s Toyota Crown as his daily

Car guy!! Aizawa would know every make and model out there to ever exist and loves working on vehicles and just learning about vehicles.

Going from the previous one, I feel like when he retires from the force he would work and restore vehicles on his spare time.

Would apologize for his outbursts

Best dad ever. He would do anything for his kids.

Can't stand fast food. Despite everything he does try to maintain a healthy diet.

In Canon he is 6'0 but honestly would be 6'3.

Intimidating as hell to any newcomers and is rough around the edges at first but comes around and is easy on the newcomers when he realizes they are serious about their job

Periodically checks in on Matsuda, especially after Light

[leebrontide]

Hello!

I'm Lee (any pronouns), a middle aged queer writer from the midwest of the US. It's been a bit, so I'm doing another writeblr intro, to find more potential writeblr folks to chat with!

What I write:

- Mostly scifi! I have a bit of fantasy brewing in a collab project, but mostly, scifi.

- Queer stuff. Lots of different types of queerness.

- Community. Both in the group-hugs-and-support variety and the extreme-mess/everybodies-traumas-keep-smashing-into-each-other variety. I have training as a family therapist and am endlessly fascinated by interpersonal dynamics. This is the meat of my work.

- Grounded worldbuilding. My main project right now is near future scifi that diverges from our timeline around 2001. I'm enjoying the hell out of playing the US I know with some very key tweaks that changed society. I know a lot about medical systems, criminal justice systems, and legal systems and like using fantasy and scifi elements to show them as I know them. But like, in a way that should appeal to people who give 0 shits about US institutions.

- Disability stuff. Not that after-school-special shit. I am just tired of characters being generic pretty dolls whose physical attributes don't impact how they move through the world. That means not only writing a variety of different disabilities, but also different bodies. My characters aren't "inspiration porn" or just waiting around for less disabled characters to come save them. They are messy, with a wide array of relationships to their limitations and the things they use to cope with those limitations.

- YA into new adult. Not exclusively, but mostly. I really like taking characters from YA into early adulthood. Not just a standard coming-of-age arc, but the actually moving from a self-concept of a dependent teen into someone with legal responsibility for themselves, jobs, college, etc. Especially when combined with all of the above. I love a nice long character arc with lots of sub-arcs along the way.

What I have out, now.

- I have two books out so far, Secondhand Origin Stories and Names in Their Blood. I'm working on book 3 in that planned 5 book series now, which is currently titled Brittle Idols.

- I have a free monthly newsletter called Shed Letters where I talk about psychology, tech, queerness, storytelling, and the creative process, plus whatever random topic I've been researching for my books recently. Also contains pictures of my three very photogenic cats.

- Newsletter subscribers also have access to a novella I wrote that goes between Secondhand Origin Stories and Names in Their Blood, that's about an fictional AI (the only kind I like) trying to decide on a body for themself.

- I also draw and animate, with my first and still in-progress animation project being a "trailer" for Secondhand Origin Stories.

What I'm looking for

- writeblrs - especially writeblrs that aren't JUST writeblrs. I want to feel like I'm meeting people, at least in some manner, rather than just hearing about a product in process. That doesn't have to mean deep confessions or private information, but honestly I'm not likely to remember you for your writing project alone. Sorry. Please show me what else you care about!

- Bonus points for queer or disabled scifi or fantasy writers.

- I am white for most intents and purposes but I always want to find more AOC who write sci fi.

- Also always excited to meet more YA authors- especially the currently kinda sidelined YA scifi.

- People who care about where society is going but aren't posting that everything is doomed and pointless. I mean you post whatever you want but I don't need that on my dash. That shit is not helping me help.

I sometimes do ask games? It's fun when I have the time. It'd be fun to have more folks to do them with, provided those folks are patient.

Please interact if this has piqued your interest!

[janitetsu]

Lolong Donaire General and Relationship headcanons!

wc: 1,305 i...am so sorry for my long absence 😥 life happened. i lost my grandfather, spiraled into sadness, dealt with toxic people, but i'm back!! ...sort of. i've recovered and found a great circle of friends online to help inspire me with writing. I'm thinking of opening asks as I also write whatever random ideas pop up in my mind. For now, please read about my fellow Filipino and see this so-called Monster of Manila be humanized! :> WARNINGS: - mostly gender-neutral s/o, creampie mention, a bit of angst, fluff!!!!

Born in a place where US military bases are primarily in, like Subic, Zambales or Angeles City, Pampanga. The cities I mentioned have red-light districts catered to expats.

Dreamed of studying in Manila to experience military school there without US intervention since most of the US soldiers or veterans around him are expats. Resents them.

I headcanon he’s an expat child, therefore, he is Filipino-American, but chooses to identify purely as Filipino due to his history. Donaire is a surname primarily in Visayas, not mainland Luzon (where Manila is), so, most likely his mother moved to Angeles or Subic, worked in their red-light districts, got impregnated by a US soldier (soldier paid an extra amount to not use protection), and raised him alone.

Affectionately nicknamed "Long" by his mother (most of the time she follows it up with "Anak") and the elderly, and "Kuya Lolong/Long" by the neighborhood kids. [Anak is a gender-neutral term of endearment for your child. Kuya can mean "big brother", but is overall a term for men a bit older than you]

Discovered by US military generals for being half-American and having exceptional martial arts prowess, so he was recruited to be Filipino soldiers’ martial arts instructor at the Philippine Army’s headquarters in Taguig, Fort Bonifacio. His mother was saddened to see him go so far away, but was ultimately proud that he'll be able to live a better life than she ever will. Does not seek monetary help from him and only wants his safety.

Being famous in Metro Manila is where his moniker came from.

After being recruited to be a martial arts instructor, he moved to Taguig, then after growing bored and quitting, moved to Manila, specifically the major district of Tondo, which is infamous for its gang activities and instances of violence due to drugs and politics. It felt familiar and "right" to him.

Perhaps became a bodyguard since he's formed connections with major criminal syndicates in Manila, then eventually outside of the Philippines. Only agrees to be a bodyguard under the condition that they either free their sex workers or don't mistreat them. That, and he would be allowed to kill anyone affilited with The Worm.

Only sends letters to his mother and does not want her discovering his involvement with the underworld and underground fighting tournaments…and his affinity for killing. He knows she would be angry and disappointed, hell, she might even suffer a heart attack. She raised him well—the best she could especially with her situation. She did nothing wrong. This was just the road he chose to take for his life. Maybe it was inevitable, given his lineage and background.

Always makes sure to send his mother lots of money to make up for his absence and dishonesty. She tries to turn down the money but he is obstinate about her keeping it under the guise of "gratitude for raising him well despite being alone and young".

Always prays before he sleeps at night. His mother was, is, and will always be the first person in his prayers. He's killed too many people to even consider going to heaven, even if all he's killed are Worms, so he always asks that God be kind to his mother and shower her with blessings and all goodness in the world instead of him. Also prays for the people in the cities he's lived in—for them to finally leave poverty behind. There's always a lingering thought in the back of his head that his prayers have no right to be heard and answered given his violent background.

Does his best to come back to the Philippine cities he's lived in and donates money and goods there. The kids love him! They love how cool and tall their Kuya Lolong is and always asks him to play basketball during the rare times he IS able to come back to the Philippines.

Loves street dogs and street cats (specifcially Philippines' Askals and Pusakals) and feeds them whenever he can. His mother usually did the same and he adapted it into his lifestyle even when he's overseas.

Doesn't date or avoids building any kind of intimate relationships. Thinks he does not deserve them, so he'll have to be actively pursued.

It's really hard getting to know him since he's so closed off and isn't much of a talker. Like Yan, this guy's a slow burn. It's best to hang out, chat with, and try to befriend him first. He prefers a deep connection first before developing a romantic relationship.

Absolutely no flings or one-night stands! That's how he was born. Look what lifestyle he lives now. Lolong values deep trust, authenticity, consent, autonomy, and mutual respect. Those are what he seeks in a partnership. If that's not what you're looking for, then you're not the one for him.

Used to dream of being married and experience the family life he never got to. Gave up on that dream after he became a bodyguard and a fighter…but maybe you can help him remember and revive that dream if you're open to the idea of marriage.

Fantasizes being married at either San Roque Chapel (in Subic) or Holy Rosary Parish Church,(in Angeles City), both very historical and beautiful churches visited by tourists from all over the country.

Does NOT believe in splitting the bill. Also always goes out of his way to treat you, what a gentleman!

Makes up for his shady background by always, always treating you right. Whatever you say, goes.

Not super into PDA at first as he's not used to being sweet or showing affection at all. Over time, though, he holds your hand or lets you hold his arm as you walk.

Pet names: Love or Mahal, and to get in touch with his Visayan roots, Pangga, a very gentle and endearing way to say "honey", "darling", or "my love"

NSFW

Being a Filipino, he is (one of the few???) circumcised men in the Kenganverse.

7 inches. Thanks to being half, he's a bit girthy and can definitely stretch you.

Vanilla. As. Fuck. Doesn't have outlandish kinks. He thinks kissing while fucking counts as a kink!

Only cums inside once you've been dating for years. He needs to know you're with him for the long ride. (hehe. long ride. yeah that's what you're gonna be doing to him.)

Switch, leaning more on topping, but as I mentioned earlier, what you say, goes. If you want to ride him or peg him, he's open to it.

His "dirty" talk is just him telling you he loves you and how good you feel. So, so grateful that even with his violent lifestyle, he has someone like you. He truly doesn't deserve you.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." Lolong leans his forehead onto yours as he thrusts inside you. "Mahal kita. Mahal na mahal kita." (I love you. I love you so much.) "Mahal na mahal…" (I love you so…) He cuts off his own words by kissing you, your tongue mingling with his.

His aftercare gets better the longer you're together. Before, it was…a bit awkward. He stares at you. Asks if you're feeling ok and if you're hurt. Pulls out and…stares at you while you either try to sleep or get up to pee. Don't worry, he's just letting everything sink in and is trying to get used to the fact that this will be a big part of his life now.

After a year or two, his aftercare has evolved to hugging you and cuddling after sex. You'll have to be the one to initiate getting food or taking a shower. He wants to relish the after-moments with you…while inside you. He won't pull out unless you explicitly tell him to. Dirty man.

[purgatory-palace]

Character Concept Corner -

Episode 1

Hello everyone! Billie and I (Midnight) have decided to start posting proper explanations of our thoughts behind all of the designs we have here (as spoiler-free as we can).

To start us off, we’ll be looking at Emily and Angel’s designs. You’ll even get to see some concept artwork for the pair, brought to you by Billie herself (say hello Billie. “Hello Billie.”)

. . .

💫 Emily 💫

(First Concept Page Versus Most Recent Artwork)

Emily didn’t change too much since her first concepts! We mostly just got better at drawing her and emphasizing her shapes haha

Billie’s Thoughts when Designing Her:

- “She needed pupils- I get there might have been an uncanny ‘be not afraid’ thing they were trying to do with her original design, but it wasn’t working.”

- “Originally this was kind of a Swap!AU, so I wanted to give her the friendly vibe of a business-hotelier without going full blown ‘I AM THE DOORMAN.’ That’s why she has so many ruffles and circles in her design, to appear small and gummy bear-esc. The bob also helps emphasize that shape.”

- Gave her facial dots/freckles to match with Angel, her sinner.

- “In terms of her actual Angel form, something I realized immediately was… Spoonily.”

✨Spot the Difference✨

- “I leaned into this, but changed the spoon to more of a teacup inspiration. When Emily was first concepted, she was fully Sera’s sister. She was the teacup to Sera’s teapot.”

- “I wanted her cooler, more desaturated colors to make her stand out and contrast against the Sinners of the group.”

🕷️ Angel Dust 🕷️

(First Concept Page Verses Most Recent Artwork)

Angel also hasn’t changed, but that really depends on whose artstyle you’re talking about. We’re both much more comfortable drawing him now, and he’s also been narrowed out a lot since the first time we drew him. His face is a lot thinner than before.

Billie’s Thoughts when Designing Him:

- “Angel in the show is… ugly. I’m not exaggerating, he’s supposed to be a porn star and he is just not that. He looks like he somebody bashed in his head by a brick. He’s built like a twig. There is nothing attractive about this man.”

- “So, the immediate question is: what is the beauty standard in Hell? There was a chance that the beauty standard is that ‘Everyone is Furries, so brick-head Angel is very attractive.’ According to what I knew about Viv’s Hell (at the time) was that the more humanoid you are, the less egregious your sin. So suddenly the beauty standard is How Humanoid You Are. Thus you should work backwards from there.”

- “As an Italian myself, I wanted to put some of the fun aspects of being that. Like him having curly, wavy hair that’s almost impossible to maintain.”

- “I did like some aspects from the canon one and reused those- like his mismatched eyes and ‘freckles.’ More could have been done to emphasize the spidery-ness, however, which is where the spiderbutt, mandibles, and funky legs come in.”

✨Sexiest Man Alive, Folks.✨

Yes there is a doll out there of this Angel. Yes there is also an Emily one. School projects go crazy folks.

- “I also kept him pure white because very few members of our cast sport that kind of color palette, with the exception of, say, Mimzy and Crymini. I wanted him to be stand out as one of our main characters.”

- “…bro was also supposed to be more built at first because of him being a stripper and all that, but we’ve toned that down significantly. He still has more meat on his bones than OG Angel, but it’s less so.”

- “All in all the main idea behind the design was to make him humanoid and attractive, because that’s what I imagine would actually sell to a majority of the population of Hell. Not everybody is a furry.”

. . .

There were, of course, a few more things that we’ve subtly changed to fit their ever-evolving stories better, as well as fit the Rules we have in place for Sinner Forms in PP. If you’re curious what those are, please drop us an ask!

Tune in next time for our thought processes regarding Sera and Vox’s designs!

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

i would love to have a poly!plastics fic where reader has chronic pain and wakes one day to a bad flare up of joint pain They/he won't show to class and the girls worry so they ditch class(they walk out mid class) to o find reader who is at home, under blankets and groaning in pain at every movement. each of the girls helps in a way, from massages, to kisses, to having reader's favorite movie ready to be watched!!!! llove ur suff

Cuddles, Praise & Movies! Oh My!

|| poly!plastics x he/they!reader

(I myself am poly)

|| Warnings; injured reader, chronic pain mentions and descriptions, swearing

|| Summary; poly!plastics x they/he reader; reader's got chronic pain and doesn't show up for class, girls notice and come and comfort them.

Requests open!

Started; September 10th

Finished; September 12th

~~

There’s a saying about how everyone is fighting internal demons. Your demons? Chronic pain. An absolute bitch in your life. It has prevented you from being able to do a hell of a lot. For those who live a chronic pain free life and don’t know what it is, feel blessed. Chronic pain is a pain that can happen anywhere on your body and it’s on going. Usually it will last for more than six months at a time. Even if the original cause of the injury is gone, the pain can be left behind. It’s essentially a pain that never fully leaves you. Some days are more manageable; while others it’s hard to even get out of bed.

You were experiencing one of those days. It was more in your upper body where you felt it, from your back to your arms; and because it reached your arms you were in so much pain that you didn’t even bother reaching for your phone. You had wanted to text your girlfriends, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move further than the next pillow.

So you also didn’t go to school that day. The school was well aware of how bad your chronic pain could get, and on the days you couldn’t make it you would usually borrow notes from either Gretchen or Cady. If you didn’t have a class with Gretchen, which was really only a single class, then you had Cady to help you out. Karen and Regina were in some of your classes as well, but they weren’t exactly the most reliable note takers. One time you made the mistake of asking Regina to do it and the note she gave you at the end of the day wasn’t exactly PG. And Karen… well, she actually (literally speaking) took someone else's notes. Since that’s what she’d thought you meant. She tried, you appreciated it. Gretchen and Cady were the only ones who actually did it for you.

Meanwhile, your girls were all in the one class the four of you usually shared together. By now it was fourth period, lunch had passed with no word from you or sighting of you in the halls. Gretchen had even asked around just to double check, but everyone told her they hadn't seen you today. The three were starting to worry as they shared a quiet conversation amongst themselves at the back of the class. Away from Mr Rapp's earshot.

"He's probably at home. No one's seen them today." Gretchen whispered, looking between Karen and Regina. Mostly Karen. Who seemed to be trying to fan herself with her pencil. Gretchen sighed," Baby, no. Get a scrap paper and make a fan, here hang on. Like this." She then proceeded to show Karen how to make a foldable paper fan, which Karen watched with intense interest. Regina just rolled her eyes.

"Come on, we're leaving." Regina stood, the other two shared a confused look and Gretchen grabbed her things without question. She had a pretty good idea what Regina was talking about and was more than happy to skip classes for you.

Karen, on the other hand, was confused as she stood and followed along through the desk rows; "Where are we going?"

"Yes, I would like to know that too." Mr. Rapp raised as eyebrow as the plastics headed for the door.

Gretchen glanced back at him to say something, but Regina grabbed her wrist and pulled her along

"Ignore him." The blonde demanded, a look of fierce determination on her face.

Mr. Rapp tried to ask them more questions, but the girls listened to Regina and ignored him completely.

Regina lead them to her jeep, digging around for her keys. Pulling them out, she unlocked her jeep and got in.

"Hurry up!" Regina honked at them.

Gretchen sighed, understanding Regina was just frustrated and worried about you. All three of them were. So she just listened, not wanting to cause her anymore stress as she took Karen's hand and gave a gentle pull. "Let's go, mama."

The two got in the back, keeping their hands together and fingers interlocked.

In no time at all (Regina may have been speeding just a little bit) they arrived at your place and pulled in the driveway.

Regina lead three into your house, not bothering to knock since they've been there countless times before. Besides, your parents weren't home because they had work and if you were in a chronic pain state like they assumed... you wouldn't be able to answer the door anyway.

They walked up the familiar stairs and into the hall with your room, Gretchen ran ahead at a light jog; throwing your door open. Her eyes immediately found your form, laying in a ball curled up in bed. She frowned and joined you, gently pulling you into her arms so your back pressed against her chest. "I've got you, baby boy." She murmured against your neck, right below your ear lobe. You shivered as you felt the vibrations from her words against you and instinctively leaned into her. Making a small sound.

"A message would have been nice." Regina's voice came from the other side of the bed. You felt it lower, then felt her arms wrap around you as she joined the cuddles.

"Sorry. Couldn't." You explained in a mumble, albeit a poor explanation. Regina sighed and you felt her nails scratch along your back in a soothing motion. It was one of your favourite feelings.

That's when you noticed Karen hadn't joined you yet. You then glanced up from where your head had been buried in Gretchen's shoulder; scanning your room for her.

Karen was over by your desk, getting your laptop started up with a small smile on your face. You thought it was adorable.

"Karen?" You murmured, getting her attention. She immediately looked at you.

"Y/N?"

"What're you doing?"

"Getting a movie ready!" Her small smile became a grin as she pulled out some cd cases, flipping through them. You noticed that each one was one of your comfort movies and your heart melted just a little bit. The gesture was appreciated.

You picked the third one she mentioned, which happened to be Narnia; the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. One of your childhood favourites. She put it into the laptop disk holder then picked up the laptop and joined the three of you in bed, curling up with Gretchen.

You gave a soft smile as she set the laptop in Gretchen's lap so it was closer to you. She didn't want to put it in your lap because she wasn't sure how much pain you were in; and she didn't want to risk adding to it.

As the movie played, you felt Regina get up and turned to look at her with a pout.

"I'm going to the bathroom. Relax." She told you before leaving, Gretchen rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder, giving your cheek a kiss.

You huffed a little and went back to watching the movie with your girls.

It was just about the scene where Lucy enters the wardrobe for the first time when Regina returned. Holding a tray of snacks.

"I thought you went to the bathroom?" Gretchen questioned.

Karen gasped," Did you find them in the bathtub?! Sometimes that happens to me."

Gretchen gave her a look of confusion and concern but didn't say anything. Figuring it wasn't a big deal.

Regina narrowed her eyes at Karen," No. I lied. Surprise." She muttered, holding the tray out to you. You could just tell she was at least a bit embarrassed by what she did.

You took a closer look at the tray and noticed a lot of the things there were snacks with clearly you in mind. She had all your favourites. There was some stuff for Gretchen and Karen, as well as herself too but mainly it was a tray made for you. She set it down in front of you when you didn't grab it and curled back in next to you.

"Thank you." You whispered to her, and if you weren't mistaken... you saw Regina George blush.

"Whatever." She muttered.

The three of you sat and watched the movie, enjoying your snacks; about half way through Gretchen offered to give you a massage. Asking where it hurt. You pointed it out to her and she happily helped you out, wondering if she was doing okay as her hands worked on the spot. You nodded, looking rather relieved as you began to relax.

She worked your muscles so well that you eventually fell asleep.

Last thing you remember feeling was Regina's kisses on your neck, Gretchen's hands on your shoulders and the voice of the White Witch yelling something in the movie.

[apptrans]

Since I deleted my social media that actually had our wedding photos, I’m going to make a post here to celebrate.

I was going to delete Hinge on November 1st, 2022. Halloween is my favorite holiday and I spent from 1pm-10pm working a job that was not fulfilling, hardly celebrating the holiday at all. I came home and went on Hinge. I had already been super fed up with online dating/being ghosted/that whole thing, so I told myself that I was going to hit the “ten likes a day” they give you for the free version and delete the app the next day if nothing happened. Then, I saw Wolf’s profile.

Having studied music industry for my bachelor’s degree, I am pretty particular when it comes to people saying they are “good at singing”. But holy fuck. One of Wolf’s prompts had a video of him singing and he could actually sing. Another prompt said that he wanted to go to school for music industry at the exact same school I graduated from. Yet another said that he loved to explore abandoned things, something that I have always had a passion for and haven’t done much since I didn’t want to do it alone. I was blown away. If there is any version of “love at first sight: dating app edition”, this was it. So I sent him the first rose I had ever sent out on Hinge (and my last) with a message saying “Who the hell are you and where did you come from. I love so much about your profile and would love to get to know you”. I stayed up for another half hour (at this point, it was nearing midnight) and was pretty disappointed that I hadn’t gotten a response at all to it. With that, I went to bed, again with the intention to delete the app the next day.

At 6:01AM, I got a response from Wolf. But me being me, I didn’t wake up until hours later. After hearing his side of things, Wolf tells me he was excitedly anxious, hoping that I wasn’t one of those typical guys on Hinge who sends one message and then never responds. Obviously I responded when I woke up, and that started a very long string of messages, soon to be texts, that never ended. I knew that I wanted to meet up with him. However, having been in my first semester of grad school on top of working retail full-time, I knew that it would take a little bit for us to meet up. I also knew that most guys on dating apps want an immediate date in mind or else they lose interest, so I was nervous this would be a put-off for him. I can’t recall the exact words, but Wolf told me that I “was worth the wait”. We met in person for the first time on November 5th, 2022.

While I won’t give the specific details since that’s something I want special just for Wolf and I, the date went very, very well. Most people look better in their pictures than they do in person. Wolf already was incredibly attractive in his pictures and in person- I can’t even begin to describe how I felt. I was shy making eye contact with him because he was (and is!) so good-looking. The date lasted hours, many of which we spent in my car just talking about music.

Needless to say, we never went a day without talking to each other. I remember wanting to not seem overeager, so I waited maybe three days after that to see him again. To my recollection, besides times when I have been gone for work or on a weekend trip with friends, we haven’t spent a day apart since. We knew we were each other’s person within the first month. I remember within a couple of weeks of us knowing each other, Wolf sent me a post about this music festival in Vegas happening months from then. I didn’t even hesitate to say yes and buy tickets to it. In retrospect, probably a really crazy thing to do, but it worked. To this day that was the longest trip we’ve taken together (mostly because the economy sucks and we’re both college students, so we’re super broke).

Flash forward a bit of time, we got married on June 22nd, 2024. For many reasons, (financial constraints being the main one) we eloped in NYC and didn’t have anyone there besides our officiant and photographer(s). I wouldn’t have it any other way. It was so us to do it that way. While I could end this on a more negative note due to the current administration, I won’t. The point of this post is to celebrate what we’ve been able to do. We are two trans guys who were able to have a gay wedding and be in love despite what's going on in this world. Is it tough? Absolutely. But we have each other and we have the support of so, so many people. Thank you to whoever has read this to the end. This is the very short version of our love story, but I wanted to at least get something out there.

@3deifiedart

[eevee-genshin-blog]

How’d This Happen?!

A/n: First Post! Please enjoy! This was inspired by @idkfitememate Boar!Creator!

I was floating... it’s dark? What..?

I was just playing Genshin Impact... Where am I now..? It’s getting cold... Huh... What’s that light? When you first woke up, you didn’t understand what was happening. But you got isekai’d into Genshin Impact, as a cat. 

You mostly looked like Luna from Sailor Moon... but your eyes. They were like a normal cat’s, but golden, and your pupils looked like Primogems. 

Great... You thought annoyed, you’ve read stories, some get cool powers, others get their phones... but you got a Cat! How unfair, but you choose to feel thankful, you didn’t know if their was anything to this place yet... 

They could have killed you for being an ‘ImPoStOr,’ you mentally mock the name... But you started to wonder and ended up cutting yourself.

Not gold blood. Not stary blood. Or pink blood. It looked like the Galaxy, the drops that lost contact with your skin floated up to the sky...

So... You were a god? How does that work? You were stuck in the form of a cat... So confusing... But you decided to wander around and learn.

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

In the few weeks you’ve been here, you’ve found out the following.

One, the true “Impostor,” had descended here long ago.

Two, they weren’t an animal.

Three, you did, in fact, have a human form, but felines are your ‘Symbolic Animals,’ odd, but you’ve always been a cat person. (You did figure out how to turn back into human, but you didn’t have clothes and turned right back into a cat.)

Four, you can control the different elements; So you decided to be chaotic and make a cat friendly base in the trees and ground so no one would find you.

Five, the mobs didn’t attack you.

So far, when someone’s seen you, you’d bolt. But now, you have a proper escape plan! So, you started working. Of course, you struggled, after all, you weren’t exactly used to being a cat yet, or using the elemental powers. But you managed. 

Thankfully, Tevyat helped you, making sure you found fresh and clean water; giving you cat-friendly fruits to eat, or letting you catch big fishes; making sure the waters were calm if you tried swimming; and the winds gently blew you dry after.

But after a few months, you made a very small cave system for cats, or bunnies now that you think of the size, to travel through. You didn’t fully understand Dendro enough to make a tree base.

More time passed, as you lived as a cat. You didn’t care to keep up a ‘good appearance,’ why should you? You’re a cat in the forests near Mondstadt, staying alive was more important for you.

Time actually was passing so fast because you were so used to your world’s time. So, you didn’t really eat or sleep like the others here. So before you could process, a year had gone by... 

You spend that time playing; chasing seelies, napping with slimes, and visiting some Melusines in Fontaine (Them not telling anyone your the Creator). Letting the hilichurls braid your now fluffy and long fur. 

And you were getting homesick; yes, you were having fun... But you missed your parents, your older brother, your friends... Hell! You missed school, as crazy as it sounds...

No one here called you by your name... No one looked at you... No one thought anything of you now... But it was your face and name being taken by that person... 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, angrily... You didn’t like this as much as you thought you did... You enjoyed being free and not being hunted down... but you wanted to talk to people...

But you joined your favorite Hilichurl Camp, joining in with the fire dance. You were invested into the dance as you breathed Fireballs, of different shapes, into the night sky; Thankfully, not harming any trees, or wildlife.

But, barely missed the boy who was acting like a wolf-... Wait!?

Thanks for reading!! Sorry for my first post being so short, but updates will be slow... Once again, this was inspired by @idkfitememate please check them out!

[sunflowersandsapphires]

A Duplicate of Earth

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 1 

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around. 

Warnings: minors DNI, swearing, implied depression, implied eating disorder (the reader is going to be in recovery in this fic, if it gets graphic I will absolutely warn y’all. This is mostly therapeutic for me lol). 

a/n: This fic was so fun to write!! I love grumpy Frank with all of my heart and I think he deserves to have someone teach him how to feel joy again. So this is my attempt at that. It is loosely based on the poem "A Myth of Devotion" by Louise Gluck at the beginning of the chapter (which is SO Frank!Coded imo, like absolutely fits his fears and self-deprecation) and the myth of Hades/Persephone.

Lastly, a HUGE thank you to @saradika for the beautiful free divider I used in this fic!

w/c: 5.4k (poem not included, this is 17 pages y’all)

When Hades decided he loved this girl he built for her a duplicate of earth, everything the same, down to the meadow, but with a bed added.

Everything the same, including sunlight, because it would be hard on a young girl to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness

Gradually, he thought, he'd introduce the night, first as the shadows of fluttering leaves. Then moon, then stars. Then no moon, no stars.

Let Persephone get used to it slowly. In the end, he thought, she'd find it comforting. A replica of earth except there was love here.

Doesn't everyone want love? He waited many years, building a world, watching Persephone in the meadow. Persephone, a smeller, a taster. If you have one appetite, he thought, you have them all.

Doesn't everyone want to feel in the night the beloved body, compass, polestar, to hear the quiet breathing that says I am alive, that means also you are alive, because you hear me, you are here with me. And when one turns, the other turns—

That's what he felt, the lord of darkness, looking at the world he had constructed for Persephone. It never crossed his mind that there'd be no more smelling here, certainly no more eating.

Guilt? Terror? The fear of love? These things he couldn't imagine; no lover ever imagines them.

He dreams, he wonders what to call this place. First he thinks: The New Hell. Then: The Garden. In the end, he decides to name it Persephone's Girlhood.

A soft light rising above the level meadow, behind the bed. He takes her in his arms. He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you but he thinks this is a lie, so he says in the end you're dead, nothing can hurt you which seems to him a more promising beginning, more true.

Tracing his fingers along the page, Frank reread the stanzas. He was not quite sure what kept drawing him back to this piece. He’d never been a fan of modern poetry, more drawn to the subtlety of the Victorian era. Yet every night this week, when his sweat-soaked body bolted upright with a gasping breath, he read through this piece while his heart rate slowed. 

He has a blurry memory of the story from his childhood. Studying the Greek gods in school, reading excerpts of the Iliad or whatever. He has always been drawn to this specific myth, for whatever reason. Hades and Persephone, darkness and light. But he doesn’t remember it feeling so…corrupt. 

The story he had learned was one of great romance: two unlikely lovers fighting against the odds, reshaping the earth to remain together. But the way Glück illustrates the story illuminated a more sinister interpretation. One night, in an insomnia-induced haze, he’d read page after page about the two gods, trying to find a definitive answer to the question that bounced around his mind. Did Hades ruin poor Persephone? Was their love itself ruinous?

Glück sure seemed to think so. Maybe that was what sparked his interest in the piece. The idea that love could tarnish something so pure—Frank sure had a fair share of experience with that. 

With a hefty sigh, he closed the book, glancing at the clock. 4:05 am. Digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, he weighed his options. 

“Up for a jog, Max?” Frank murmured, looking to the canine who was curled up in his crate. The dog just snored. “Suit yourself, bud.” 

Slipping into a pair of athletic shoes and a light sweatshirt to accompany his sweats, he stepped out the door and towards the stairs, almost colliding with a young woman frantically darting down the hall. 

“So sorry. Have a nice day!” The figure whisper yelled at him as she ran past. 

He takes a second to regain his bearings, before plastering on a scowl and heading off on his run. 

The outing was refreshing to a degree, but his mind was still plagued with thoughts of his wife and the darkness that had consumed her, just as it had Persephone. 

Curtis let his eyes follow the pacing form in front of him as he let out a sigh. Having been a friend of Frank’s for some time now, he wasn’t a stranger to moodiness or the other man’s incredibly fiery temper, yet Frank had been worse than usual lately. It seemed like the drop of a pin could set him off these days, and Curtis could practically see a cartoon storm cloud following him around with the way he’d been glowering lately. Curtis had hoped David would be able to shed some light on the cause of the behavior, but the technician was as clueless as him. 

They (they is a term very loosely used, given that David was overtly opposed to the idea,) decided to ask Frank about it the next time he visited Curtis. So, here they both were, watching Frank stomp across the floor and waiting for him to explain himself. Finally, Frank turned to them. 

“You gonna keep starin’ at me like I’m a goddamn explosive or are ya gonna ask me your fuckin questions so we can move on?” Frank’s growl made David flinch. 

“Hey, easy there, big guy. This isn’t an interrogation.” David pleaded, trying to wipe off the coffee he had inadvertently spilled on himself. 

“We’re here to help you, Frank. Same as always. Something’s been eating you away recently and we wanted to check in.” Curtis reasoned, looking between David and the marine. 

“M’ fine.” Frank grunted, draining the rest of his own coffee and stalking over to the machine for a fresh pour. 

David rolled his eyes, gesturing to Frank pointedly. “Told you he wouldn’t want to talk about it.” 

Apparently this was not the right thing to say, because Frank stilled with the pot of coffee in his hands. “You two are talkin’ ‘bout me now? Am I entertainin’ enough for ya? Jesus.” He slammed his cup down, grabbing his jacket from the seat next to Curtis and heading for the door. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you have somewhere else to mope?” Curtis asked with a raised brow, almost amused by how childish Frank was being. 

“Anywhere but here would be nice. That way I’m not interrupting your fuckin’ drama club.” Frank snapped, twisting around to face Curtis. “You wanna make me your pet project? Fine. Keep doing it when I’m not fuckin’ here.” 

“Frank, we weren’t—we were just worried about you, that’s all. You’ve been really…down lately and—“ David struggled to reason with the furious man. 

“Oh, have I? So sorry to be such a goddamn stick in the mud, Lieberman. We all know life has been real nice to me so I should be more grateful, ‘s that it?.” Glaring at the pair of men before him, Frank threw on his jacket and walked out, slamming the door behind him. 

Curtis sighed, sipping his coffee and turning to David. “I should’ve known better than to think he would talk this out. He says he’s fine, we treat him like he’s fine. He’s a grown ass man who can work up the balls to ask us for help if he needs it.” 

David barked a laugh. “We both know he won’t though.”

“Yah…you’re probably right about that.” 

Frank was still fuming as he trudged through the city streets at sunset. His mood had been worse than usual lately, but his friends’ inquiry just made him feel guilty and stupid for not knowing why. Things hadn’t been too bad recently. The past few missions he’d taken on had gone smoothly—to the point where it had been over a month since Curtis had to help stitch him up, and that had to be a record. Not to mention, he’d stopped an international arms dealer last week while on his own job, putting him on Madani’s good side for the first time in his miserable life. 

His fist clenched around Max’s leash, but the dog seemed entirely unbothered by his irritation. Happily trotting next to him, gazing up with adoration every once in a while. 

Frank sighed as they reached the entrance to his building, stopping his brisk pace for a moment to give the dog a scratch. “I’m sorry I’ve been out so much, bub. We’ll do this more, promise.” 

Max simply spun away from him, sniffing the air. Frank gave a weak chuckle, shaking his head at the dog’s ambivalence. The pair started up the stairs towards their floor, Max pulling harder than usual. When they reached the landing, Max froze as Frank headed for his front door. Stumbling backwards briefly, Frank tried to start moving again, but Max held firm—letting the leash grow stiff between them. 

“Max. C’mon, bud. Le’s go.” The pit bull simply gave Frank a piercing look, before abruptly jerking backwards, wriggling his head. 

“Max, what the hell, stop that!” Desperately, Frank tried to grab his dog, but Max was too quick. Within moments, he’d slipped free of his collar and taken off. 

Frank sprinted after him, heart sinking as he realized Max was beelining for an open apartment door. The last thing he needed was a goddamn dog-induced injury suit. 

Reaching the doorway, Frank saw Max sniffing around a young woman happily—the same woman who had almost run into him this morning. To Frank’s disbelief, she laughed. The sound was surprised, but bright and it pulled at his heart in a way he did not have time to unpack. 

“Hey, big guy!” You held your hand out for Max to sniff, which he did enthusiastically. “You lost?” 

Max gave you a few exuberant licks before sticking his nose back to the ground and snuffling around your kitchen, clearly looking for something. 

Eventually, Frank unfroze from his stupor and spoke. “I am so sorry, ma’am. He’s never gotten loose like that before. Max, c’mere.” 

Seemingly through with his rebellious phase, the dog sauntered up to Frank, tail wagging, before turning to allow Frank to reattach his collar. 

Standing in front of Frank, you gave another beautiful laugh, beaming up at Frank from where you were standing before him. “That’s quite alright. I’m never opposed to a new friend. Besides, my kitchen is quite literally filled with dog treats at the moment, so I can’t exactly blame him for his actions. Still smiling, you pulled a tray of dog biscuits from the counter next to you, giggling as Max sat down expectantly. 

“Can he have one? They’re chicken flavored, if that’s an issue.” You looked at Frank, questioningly. Still mortified by his dog’s outburst and quite honestly shocked that this gorgeous woman was still talking to him, he stammered. “Uh—yah, that’s. That’s fine.” 

Your smile widened as you grasped a few treats. “Here, bubba.” Max snatched the treats from your hand, greedily gulping them down before moving closer to you and holding up a paw. 

Laughing again, you set down the tray and crouched to shake his outstretched paw. “Well aren’t you a talented pup. What’s his name?” You turned to Frank, one hand scratching behind the dog’s ears. 

“This is Max…And I’m Frank.” His vocal chords seemingly operating on their own, Frank cursed himself for the honesty. Why on earth did he feel compelled to give this woman his life story? 

“Nice to meet you, Max!” You ruffled the fur on the pit’s head, chuckling as he kissed your arm. “And you as well, Frank. My name is-“ and your name tumbled off your lips. You held out a hand to him. Frank gave a small grimace of a smile, grasping your hand and repeating your name back to you. It was beautiful and more than suited you. 

“It’s very nice to meet you ma’am. I should, uh, we should go.” Frank said lamely, tugged on Max’s leash to exit your apartment. 

Grinning at him still, you waved goodbye. “Have a nice night, Frank. Stop by anytime” 

The next time he saw you, you were struggling to lug massive cardboard boxes into your apartment. It had been a few days since Max made your acquaintance and he’d been avoiding damn near everyone, which had only worsened his bad mood. 

As he took a few steps towards his front door, trying incredibly hard to not stare at your beautiful figure in the low cut sundress you were wearing, a loud crash caught his attention. 

“Shit!” You cursed, jumping back quickly to avoid smashing your foot underneath the box you’d dropped. 

“You, uh, need a hand?” Frank grumbled, shuffling closer to you. 

“Oh, hi Frank! Sorry I was so focused on this thing that I didn’t see you.” There was that beaming smile again. Frank shied away like it would burn him. 

“Ain’t a problem. So…you want help?” He asked again, rubbing at his nape as he blushed. Why on earth would you want his help when he acted like he’d never met another human before? 

“That would be amazing. This bed frame is way heavier than I was prepared for.” You kicked the box lightly, glaring at it. 

Frank shifted it up into his arms with ease. “Where would you like it?” 

“The room to your left please!” You chirped, pointing him in the room’s direction. “Thank you so much for your help.”

Frank set the heavy box down, turning back to you. “Looks like you needed it. You ain’t exactly dressed for lifting this.” Frank scoffed, before realizing in horror what he’d just said. 

“You don’t like my dress?” Your voice was soft and you looked at him with round eyes. He cursed himself for being born. If the world was fair, no one would ever make you look like that. His darkness was all consuming. 

“Oh, shit, I wasn’t thinking. I—“ 

You bit your lip, a sly grin spreading across your face. “I’m teasing you, Frank. I came right from work and didn’t have time to change. It’s a ridiculous outfit for building furniture. Please, sit! I have something for you.” You ushered him over to your couch. 

Frank tilted his head ever so slightly, surprised that you weren’t immediately put off by his harsh demeanor and towering stature. After a moment of thought, he practically collapsed to the cushions, the exhaustion of the past few weeks crashing over him. He was acutely aware that he hadn’t been sleeping well, but he hadn’t realized the ache that had settled in his bones until now.

You retreated to your kitchen, pulling a tin of cookies out of your pantry and offering them to Frank. “As a thank you for your assistance: my world-famous chocolate chip cookies.”

Gently lifting the tin from your hand, Frank felt the corner of his mouth quirk down at the thought of mooching off of you when you’d just met. “It wasn’t any trouble. I don’t want to take your food.” He grumbled, eyeing the tin for a moment before you groaned. 

“You’re killing me here, Frank. Indulge me, please!” Your eyes flickered between the tin and his grumpy face pointedly. He rolled his eyes, pulling a cookie from the box. 

The cookie was truly one of the best things Frank had ever eaten. Soft and buttery with a sprinkle of salt on top. He finished the treat in three bites, licking his fingers before your giggling reminded him that he was being observed. 

“So…are they sufficient payment?” A shit-eating grin appeared across your face and Frank felt his mood lift even further despite his brief embarrassment. 

Popping his thumb out of his mouth, he felt himself flush. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

You waved a hand, brushing aside his embarrassment. “Oh please, I’m just glad you liked it! Half the reason I bake for other people is for the compliments.” 

“You deserve them. That was…a damn good cookie.” Frank rubbed a hand over the back of his neck but you seemed completely unphased by his stiff social skills. “What’s in that box?” He nodded to the opened one in front of your couch, snatching another cookie from the tin. 

“Well, I moved in a few weeks ago and didn’t have the foresight to order my furniture in advance. So,” you spread your arms, gesturing to the myriad of tools and wooden pieces on your floor. “Tonight is night one of furnishing my apartment.”

“That seems…like a real chore.” 

“Oh it is. But I’ve been sleeping on a mattress on my floor for three weeks, so I sort of need a bed frame. Like ASAP.” You narrowed your eyes at the box in the other room like it had bested you in a fight. 

“Did ya, um, did ya want some help with…” Frank trailed off, gesturing to your inanimate foe. 

“Oh gosh, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I wouldn’t wish IKEA furniture on my worst enemy.” You laughed, shaking your head. 

“Ain’t a problem, if you’re ok with me snackin’ on those miracle cookies while I work.”

“Ok, one:” You began, holding out a finger. Frank bit a lip to keep from laughing. Bossy little thing, aren’t ya? “You can eat all of those cookies if you help me build that motherfucking thing.” A boisterous laugh burst out of Frank at your pretty mouth cursing so openly. “And two: you will be snacking on them while we work because I would actually be the devil if I made a sweetheart like you build the hellscape that is the ‘Songesand’ all on your own.”

“Trust me, I’m no sweetheart.” 

You grinned at him. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart.” 

Hours and an empty tin of cookies later, you were ready to call it quits. 

“If this bolt doesn’t tighten all the way, I swear to God I am going to lose it.” You pouted dramatically, dropping the pieces you were attaching to the floor with a clatter. 

Frank huffed a tiny laugh. “Lemme see.” Inspecting the piece, he unscrewed the bolt a tad and tightened it with ease. You groaned. 

“I swear it was broken a second ago. Are you a witch or something?” You flopped to the ground with a sigh, looking up at him through thick lashes. 

“Nah. Just good at building things, I s’pose.” 

“Well, I really appreciate your help. Can I cook you dinner? As a thank you?”

“I don’t wanna overstay my welcome…” Busying himself with the furniture in front of him, he avoided your studious gaze. 

“It’s not a big deal. And it would actually encourage me to eat today.” 

Frank whirled to face you. “You haven’t eaten today?” 

You shrugged, “Yah, I tend to get distracted.” 

“That ain’t good for ya.” Frank sighed, trying to decide what the priority should be. “A’right. If it’ll make ya eat, ya can cook for me.” 

You smiled, your eyes catching his with a soft gaze. “That’s so sweet of you.” And, with that, you bustled away to start dinner. 

Throwing himself back into the task at hand, Frank had your bed frame assembled and was pulling your mattress onto it in no time. Brushing his hands together, he returned to the living room, tidying up the scraps of cardboard and styrofoam littering the ground. 

“Frank, please sit down! You’ve just saved me hours of work, I can clean up.” You raised your voice so he could hear you from the kitchen. 

“It’s no trouble.”

“Dinner’s ready anyway. Sit, please!” You encouraged, handing him a bowl of some delicious smelling pasta. 

Eagerly digging in, Frank almost moaned at the first bite. “How are you so good at this?” He asked, stuffing another forkful into his mouth. 

You giggled, “Culinary school, and years of practice.” 

“Culinary school, huh?” 

“Yah…” You laughed a little sadly, moving the pasta around in your bowl. “I’ve always liked cooking and I had this crazy dream of opening a bakery a while ago.” 

Frank swallowed, forcing himself to continue the conversation even though he could feel himself blushing at his inability to talk like a normal fucking person. “You’re really good at it. What happened?” 

Stiffening slightly next to him, you waved off the question. “Oh you know, killer capitalism and all that. But, I work in a cafe which means I get to bake to my heart's content without all the nitty gritty business stuff. Like taxes.” You made a face at the thought and Frank snorted. 

Finishing his dinner, he noticed you studying him again. It had been a while since someone had shown such genuine interest and care towards him. His heart fluttered in a way he hadn’t felt in years, and it struck a nerve. Minuscule grin falling from his face, he stood abruptly. 

“I gotta go.” 

“Oh, ok.” He didn’t dare look at your face and risk seeing it fall. 

Pacing to your doorway, he turned towards you marginally. “Thanks for the food.” 

“Thank you for giving me a platform to sleep on tonight. You’ve saved my hips a world of pain.” Your smile was small but genuine. You seemed almost…hesitant. As he was about to tread down the hallway to his own place, you wrapped him in a sudden embrace. “Have a goodnight, Frank.” 

His heart tugged, insisting that he return the embrace, but he couldn’t risk it. Instead, he squeezed your shoulder and quickly headed home. 

After another night of restless sleep, he woke up in an even fouler mood than before. Yanking the door open on his way to work, he almost stomped over a package sitting on his doorstep. Given that it was just past 5 in the morning, he was a little suspicious of the bag at his feet. Gingerly picking it up, he turned it around and, despite himself, broke into a small smile. 

The brown paper bag had a handwritten note, “Don’t be a stranger, Sweetheart” with your signature and phone number underneath. Stapled to the present itself was a brochure for one “Rainy Day Bakery”, complete with pictures of your smiling face surrounded by other employees. Feeling his shitty mood melt away, just a little, he opened the bag and found a short stack of fresh chocolate chip cookies. He sank back against his door, closing his eyes. 

Screw it.

Twirling around the kitchen, softly singing the lyrics to the song playing overhead, you placed your tray of bread into the oven. 

“God. You’re worse than usual today.” Your coworker, Stacy, groused, hefting a giant sack of flour up onto your prep table. You laughed at her, nudging her shoulder. 

“It’s a great day, Stace! It’s beautiful outside and we’ve had steady business all morning. Plus, Janet is letting me try out some new flavors this week and I am stoked!” You squealed. 

“How did I ever become friends with morning people,” She fake gagged and you smacked her. 

“You love our exuberance, don’t lie.” 

“Yah, yah. Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Did someone call for a morning person?” Your other primary coworker, Leo, entered the room with a dramatic spin. 

“The only thing worse than one of you, is both of you. I’ll take the counter.” Stacy mumbled, stalking back out to the front of the store. You and Leo giggled after her, knowing she was hiding a smile. 

“So, what’s on the docket for the rest of the day, princess?” Leo positioned themself at the stainless steel bench next to you, looking ready to take on whatever weird ideas you threw their way. 

“I’m thinkin’ more classic cheesecakes, those did well last week. Then maybe lemon meringue bars or key lime minis? Something citrusy. Thoughts?” You tilted your head, awaiting their response. 

“Let’s do the lemon pie shortbread bars. Those are always popular. You want to prep the dough, I’ll start juicing?” 

“You read my mind.” Whipping out the ingredients, the two of you danced around each other in a practiced waltz. You’d been friends since culinary school and had pretty much been a package deal for every employer afterwards. You acted as a well oiled machine, and the cafe was booming because of it. 

As you gently pressed large wads of shortbread into pans, Stacy poked her head back through the staff door, breaking your focus. “Someone’s here for you, princess.” 

Scrunching your brow, you shouted over your shoulder. “I told her I didn’t have time to grab lunch this week.” 

“It’s not your mom. It’s some guy. Says he’s your neighbor?” 

Your hands stilled. “Yah, ok, I’m coming, Stace.” Scooting past Leo—and their eager, teasing grin—you gave them a pointed look. “Stop it.”

“He came to visit you. At work.” Leo singsonged. 

“It might not even be him.”

Leo rolled their eyes back to the pot in front of them. “It’s him.” 

Traipsing after Stacy into the customer portion of the cafe, your face broke out in a massive smile as you saw Frank at the register. His arms were crossed and he looked nervous, eyes shifting around, trying his best to avoid Stacy’s cold gaze. 

“Hey, Frank! Welcome to Rainy Day! What can I get ya?” You placed your hands on your hips and looked at him with excited expectation. 

“Coffee?” You giggled at his simple response which made his blush deepen. “I uh, shit, that sounded stupid. I don’t know…”

“It didn’t sound stupid, sweetheart. I was just thinking about how nice it is to not have to make a super complicated drink. Stace can you get me a large cup of the dark roast. I’m assuming hot and no cream or sugar?” You looked at Frank, waiting to see if your prediction was correct. 

“Fuck, am I that obvious?” He groaned, his face beet red as he avoided your eyes. 

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the simple things, Frank.” 

Stacy passed over the drink. “2.50.” She stated with no emotion, feigning disinterest in the conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her giving Frank a subtle once-over. 

Frank passed over a ten. “Keep the change.” 

“Aw, that’s so sweet! Thank you,” your lopsided grin was a permanent fixture whenever he was present. It was going to be the death of him. He’d do anything to make you keep that smile. 

“I—um, wanted to visit your cafe, since you asked me to, I mean—“

Your smile softened as his nervousness peaked. “I appreciate the visit, Frank. Come by anytime. Oh! Before you go, actually,” You fluttered off, daintily grabbing a pastry from the case to your left. You handed him a beautifully decorated confection, but your signature smile held a tinge of anxiety. You clearly cared about his opinion, he wasn’t really sure why. 

“I, uh, didn’t order this.” Frank announced gruffly, holding the pastry in his hands as if it was trying to bite him. 

Rolling your eyes, you laughed cheerfully, “I know, silly. You think I’m going to let you leave without breakfast?” Hands back on your hips, Frank felt a familiar warmth bloom as an almost imperceptible smirk flickered across his mouth. Bossy. 

“Are you really chastising me for skipping a meal after what you said yesterday?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

“Do as I say, not as I do.” You shrugged, looking between him and the pastry. “Well? Don’t leave me hanging!” 

“Are you always this demanding?” Frank scoffed with a slight twinkle in his eyes. 

“Yes.” Stacy and Leo called in unison, making you gasp in false betrayal. 

“Fine, I’ll eat it myself.” You held out your hand to retract the pastry, but Frank drew it closer to himself. 

“Never said I wouldn’t try it, Sunshine.” Your exaggerated pout nearly disappeared at the nickname. “Pretty sure you’ll pop your lid if I don’t.” 

He took a bite of the pastry, savoring the incredible combination of flavors. “‘S real good, what is it?” 

“Baklava inspired croissant. It’s something new I am trying and you strike me as someone who wouldn’t be satisfied by my whimsical ideas alone. You’re…honest, it’s nice.” 

Taken aback, Frank hesitated before swallowing his mouthful. “I…uh—thanks.” His voice was soft. He wasn’t quite used to receiving compliments about anything other than his ability to end a life. 

“Sorry if I was too pushy, a lot of the people who come in here are more concerned with their hipster image than truth. It’s nice to have someone who gives their actual opinion on my work, is all.” You bit your lip, eyes trained on his. 

“I was just teasin’, Sunshine. You can boss me around whenever you want.” 

You grinned. “I think I’ll take you up on that, Frankie.” You winked, making him chuckle. 

“Oh, you’re a handful, aren’t ya?”

“No turning back, Frank. You’re my friend now. Ask my coworkers, I’m not easy to get rid of.” You batted your eyelashes at him and he shook his head, looking to Stacy and Leo behind you. 

“Trust me, I’ve tried.” Stacy gave a tremendous sigh and Leo shoved her. 

“Well, thanks. For the…coffee and stuff.” Frank ended with, lamely. 

“I’m glad you liked the pastry! If you ever want to be my guinea pig, let me know. I’m pretty sure my friends are tired of me asking.” You chuckled, looking sheepishly at Leo and Stacy who gave dramatic nods. 

“I’d uh…I’d like that.” 

You beamed. “You’re a lifesaver, truly. Just text me if you’re ever up for trying things. You have my number now.”

“I do. I…uh, gotta run but…thanks again” Frank gave a curt nod to the three of you. 

“Have a good day, sweetheart.” You waved him goodbye. 

You were definitely going to be the death of him. 

Your phone buzzed, startling you out of your post-work tv-induced trance. 

Unknown: Hey. This is Frank. In case you need my number or whatever. 

You: Hey Frank! Haven’t talked to you in forever 😉

Frank: Sorry to bother you

You: Don’t be silly. You could never bother me. 

You: Are you hungry?

Frank: I guess? Why?

You: There’s a cute little Persian place that just opened a few blocks from here. I’ve been dying to try it but was too embarrassed to go alone. They allow dogs on the patio, if you and Max are interested?

Frank: Sounds good. Be over in a sec. 

Your heart spun around in your chest. Dashing to your bathroom, you fiddled with your outfit and hair, reapplying makeup and adjusting your floral patterned dress. Catching your own eyes in the mirror, you scolded yourself. Frank wasn’t fully a stranger anymore, but you didn’t know much about him. He didn’t wear a wedding band, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved with someone. You were getting ahead of yourself. The knowledge that your efforts might be futile weren’t enough to make you wipe off your fresh coat of lipstick, though. 

A knock at your door broke you out of your thoughts. Rushing to open it, you were spellbound. Frank had cleaned up, probably not for you personally, but your naive little heart couldn’t help but hope. His wavy hair was pushed away from his face and his beard had been trimmed. Wearing his signature dark jacket, he looked…marvelous. 

Prying your jaw from the floor, you smiled at him. “You look really nice, Frank.” 

“So do you, sunshine. Max was napping and refused to get up. Is it alright if it’s just us?”

“More than.” You grinned up at him sweetly. 

“Lead the way, Sunshine.” His deep voice rumbled. You grabbed one of his large hands in both of yours (which definitely did not make him blush) dragging him to the stairs. 

Frank knew he was treading a dangerous line. This was the 4th time in a week he’d seen you, but he couldn’t get enough. Your smile was intoxicating and your bubbly yet demanding personality was goddamn enchanting. For fuck’s sake, his hand that you had held still burned with warmth and he never wanted it to fade. He knew his darkness could ruin you, but he was defenseless to your lilting voice and endless optimism. 

Which is how he found himself across from you in a quaint little spot a few blocks from your building. Strings of colorful lights spanned the perimeter. Apparently you knew one of the chefs because the kitchen had prepared a tasting menu of sorts for the two of you, and Frank was not above reaping the benefits of what you’d sown. 

Dish after amazing dish was placed in front of the two of you and Frank was putting them away, you were eating less but seemed to be enjoying everything just the same. As you both moaned around a bite of a sort of lamb stew, your eyes twinkled. 

“So, Frank, how was your day?” The question was eager and genuine. He was still taken aback by your desire to know him, to care about him. 

“Fine. Yours?” 

“My day was lovely! I made a couple of my favorite recipes and had a handsome visitor at the cafe. Now I’m having a fantastic meal. I’m a lucky gal.” Eyes still sparkling, they scrunched as you smiled. 

“A handsome visitor, huh?”

“Oh you’d like him. He’s all tough and brooding, but I just know there’s a good man underneath all of that.” 

“Ya just know, huh? What’s hiding underneath all that happiness of yours then, sunshine?” 

“An overwhelming sense of curiosity.” You smirked at him. Your flirty tone traveled straight down in his being. Giving a breathy laugh, he deflected. 

“How are you so…peppy all the time?” At his question, your seductive gaze faded to a much more solemn one. 

“I don’t know, I guess it just became a habit… My, uh, my dad died. When I was young. My mom didn’t handle it well. So, it started as a defense mechanism? I suppose? But now…now it’s just who I am.” You averted your eyes, picking at the dish in front of you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a downer.” You forced a small laugh. 

“Hey,” Frank’s firm yet gentle tone forced you to look at him once again. “You’re not a downer. Anything ya wanna tell me, I’ll listen, yah?” 

You nodded, smile coming back to the edges of your lips. “Thanks, Frankie.” 

“Can I ask you another question?” When you nodded, he continued. “Do you put, like, crack in those cookies of yours? I swear you gave me an addiction, sunshine.” 

A laugh escaped you and his heart soared. There’s my girl. 

Taglist: @cheshirecat484

[sleepygremlin11]

The reactions to Miquella as a character is honestly so telling about the broader souls gaming community. I mostly mean on Reddit because I am like 90% straight cis Reddit guys couldn’t analyze a evil character with any sort of benefit of the doubt. TLDR at the bottom because I’m a hoe who loved to ramble…

I’m not gonna pretend that I have a perfect grasp on Elden ring lore, so if anyone notices anything like crazy wrong with this feel free to let me know. But, from what I have seen on YouTube and Reddit people are desperate to make miquella out to be the most evil mf to ever exist in a video game. In all of the analysis I’ve seen of him as a character. People don’t seem to want to acknowledge that he’s probably mentally stunted from his curse. Like be so for real 10-year-olds are the most evil motherfuckers to ever exist, being stuck like that for hundreds of years, would drive anyone to a little bit of mass genocide. People also don’t want to see that he had majority positive intentions, and if you’re looking at it in a way that acknowledges that he’s probably despite his actual age only thinking with the mental capacity of a young child, the sort of black-and-white morality that he used in his campaign is completely fitting for a kid of that age. I think dudes on Reddit just are all not allowed within 60 feet of school so they’ve never interacted with children before, but I think if I asked my cousins that are that age they would solve a corrupt world they would say they would force everyone to be nice if given the opportunity.

Also, please take a second to consider the situation he was raised in before you make judgments on him just being a completely morally black character. Marika is absolutely insane from what we know of her, and wouldn’t you know it? So much of what Miquella does is similar to his mom. But he also leads with intentions to be better than her and a more positive force broadly. anyone who has played Elden Ring can and should tell you that the setting of the game is absolutely grim dark. Most of the characters you meet want you dead and if they don’t want you dead, they will probably end up dying by the end of the game. Even in the games happiest endings, the end is still bittersweet and nothing is really fixed. particularly because that’s just what the souls like genre goes for in it’s messaging.

I don’t want to make baseless accusations of homophobia to an entire group of people and a fandom that is admittedly accepting for websites that tend to be cesspits of homophobia and transphobia. But I feel like despite They being similar intentions and results Rahni does not get as harsh of a reaction as Miquella does. I firmly believe that this is because he is one of the few queer characters that we see in any soul games. It’s of course not great that the one aspect of queer representation is an incest pairing where one of them is getting molested. But I would still categorize him as a queer character. I think with a het pairing people would be more willing to make the relationship seem less predatory, but because it’s a queer relationship and Miquella is admittedly a bad character, people don’t look at their relationship with any sort of nuance. Radahn and Miquella are not the only examples of incest in Elden ring, and I think it’s also very common for stories based on pantheons to have incest. That sure is weird as hell, not a good thing, and it’s weird as fuck in my opinion. But it’s common in these stories. This could just be me being naïve, but I have never seen such a harsh reaction to a couple in media even when discussing other similarly, toxic and abusive pairings within media.

Idk if anyone’s willing to share their thoughts on this, I am more than happy to talk in the comments, so please let me know what you think 🥺

TLDR: Miquella is an evil but well written character and his actions make sense in the story. Fandom should not regard him as harshly as they do. Especially on sites like YouTube and Reddit, which are adorably dominated by straight cis men. I think part of the reason fandom reguards him so harshly in these communities is because he is a canon queer character. It’s also two in the morning right now when I’m writing this so this probably makes no sense and I’ll delete it tomorrow.