#I drew the first one at 10pm

[aychama]

Eat or be eaten.

Nom nom.

[anna-hawk]

Fingers 2.0

Frank Castle x implied F!Reader

Summary: You just really like Frank's fingers.

Explicit 🔞 // WC: 1,8k

Tags and Warnings: PWP, breath play, fingering, hand/finger kink, cumshot

A/N: After the result of today's poll, I felt like quickly writing this down, using the three first favorite options. One comment in particular from @puddle--wonderful inspired something for the end, so please enjoy my third little fic revolving around Frank's fingers. No, I'm not obsessed, shh.

Gif by @darlingshane 🧡

At 10pm, Frank was relaxing on the couch in his apartment, reading one of his favorite books. He’d come home a couple of hours ago, but he hadn’t bothered to dress down, still wearing his dark Henley over a pair of denims and his eternal combat boots. He held himself up with an elbow on the arm rest, the fist under his jaw, as the other hand held the book. One of his feet sat propped up on the coffee table, while his other foot was on the floor and made his leg bounce sporadically as he lost himself in the story. 

He was getting to a good part, when there was the sound of keys opening the apartment door, followed by you appearing in the door frame. Frank’s eyebrows rose, and his head tilted curiously to one side as he studied you. You threw the keys into the dish sitting on a shelf next to the door and pulled off your coat and shoes with jerky movements. Not that it really mattered if you did, but you hadn’t told him that you were coming, which you usually did. 

“Hey.” Frank sat up as he greeted you, placing the book with the page lying open onto the coffee table so he wouldn’t lose the page. 

“Hey,” you replied quickly, as you strode towards him with hurried steps. 

You didn’t stop in your motion until you were on top of him, straddling his thighs and kissing him swiftly. Frank’s hands automatically went to your waist as he caught you, making a soft sound of surprise at your actions. You then cupped his jaw to tilt his head up to kiss him more comfortably. 

“Touch me, Frank,” you breathed against his mouth before you sucked at his bottom lip until you caught it between your teeth. 

Frank grunted as you pulled on his flesh, and tightened his hands on you. You gasped, making you release his lip, as his fingers dug into your waist, and you pressed your crotch down into his. Never one to back down from such a request, Frank leaned you back as he kissed you again and moved his hips until he was sitting on the edge of the couch with you. He pulled at your top, your lips separating as Frank tugged it over your head and threw it to the side. This time, his mouth went to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin just underneath your collarbone. He hissed as your fingernails drew sharp lines against his back in your hurry to get the Henley off as well. You only shot him an unapologetic shrug, not hiding your grin for even a second. As soon as his shirt was off, Frank retaliated by drawing one of your nipples into his mouth and using his teeth to tug at it sharply. He let go with a satisfied chuckle as you cried out halfway between pleasure and pain. Now that was much better. He returned his attention to your neck, where he’d initially started, but frowned as you pulled back and grabbed one of his hands by a wrist. 

“Like this,” you said in a hushed voice, staring him straight in the eyes as you placed his palm over your throat. “Please.”

Frank stared at you as understanding dawned on him as he remembered your earlier request for touch. Watching you keenly, he slowly curled his fingers around your neck until your mouth opened, and your eyes closed halfway into a blissful expression. 

“Yes,” you hissed, gyrating your hips over his and rubbing against his confined erection. 

As his lips lifted into a smirk, Frank suddenly threw you bodily onto the couch, making you land on the spot right next to where he had been sitting. You gasped out loudly in shock, but relaxed instantly as his hand returned to your neck and pressed you down into the cushions with it. While he loomed over you from between your parted legs, Frank knew that he was starting to cut off a little of your air. Judging by your reaction and your silent request just before, however, that was exactly what you wanted from him. He definitely could work with that. 

“That what you came for, Sweetheart?” he rasped, as he used his free hand to open your pants and rip them off your legs as you lifted your hips helpfully. “Just so you could have my fingers ‘round that pretty neck?” 

You nodded quickly and moaned, one of your hands gripping at the arm he was using on your throat while the other squeezed the couch pillows. What a sight you made, laid out for him like that, completely at his mercy and desperate for his touch. With a one-sided smile, he let his eyes travel down your body, while the hand not currently on your neck followed the same path. 

“What about those fingers, huh?” he wondered almost absently, circling his fingers all over your skin as he went from the mark he’d sucked into your collarbone, to the nipple he’d played with. 

His eyes met yours as he pulled at said nipple again, wanting to see your expression, and grinned as you gasped sharply. He eased up once more and let his hand wander lower and lower, over your belly button and finally between your legs. Quick, panting breaths came through your lips as you watched him watch you, until he tightened his grip on your throat some more at the same time he reached between your legs. He groaned deep in his throat as he felt your arousal coating his fingers as soon as he slid them over your flesh. 

“Yeah, think that’s where you need them too,” he said emphatically to your long moan of pleasure. “Shit, look at you, spreadin’ your legs even more for me.” He slid one finger inside you, teasing you as he rubbed the pad just along your entrance. 

A second finger quickly followed the first, and Frank hummed at the way your back arched up and your hips pressed down onto his fingers as you keened high in your throat. His cock jerked in his pants as he watched you writhe on his fingers, and licked his lips when you moaned as loud as you could with his fingers around your throat as he began stroking your walls with intent. 

“Think you can take another finger, baby?”

Frank knew you could, since his dick was a good deal bigger than three of his fingers, but he loved seeing the abandon on your face as he gave you the option for more. Sure enough, you nodded frantically, rotating your hips unconsciously over the fingers already playing inside you. 

“Please, Frank”, you managed through the fingers squeezing again harder. 

Frank almost lost it at the sight of your glassy eyes and erratic breathing, your whole body surrendering to his touch and begging for more of it. Frank leaned in quickly to share a filthy kiss with you, more tongue than anything else as he plunged that third finger inside you and ripped a cry of pure ecstasy from you as he did so. Leaning back up, he started to fuck you hard and fast, his index and middle finger curling up to rub against that special spot inside you that had your body going wild. 

“Yeah, look at ya. A fuckin’ masterpiece is what you are,” he rumbled with a rough voice, as he felt his dick pulsing painfully with the need for release as he watched you tremble under his touch. 

Through your exhilarated cries of pleasure, Frank could make out the faint beginnings of his name on your lips. He knew what you needed as soon as he looked into your eyes. Licking his lips as he breathed deeply, Frank squeezed the fingers around your throat until he knew that you couldn’t breathe at all anymore. He watched you raptly as your eyes rolled back into your head and your whole body bowed off the couch as you came in complete silence, only your mouth moving but no sound coming out. With his fingers still twisting in and out of you, Frank’s eyes never left your face as he waited and waited. His grip on your neck suddenly loosened entirely as the highest peak of your orgasm dissipated, living you choking and gasping for air, the action mixed with loud sounds of pleasure. He also stopped his hand and gently pulled his fingers out, but kept his hand loosely on your throat anyway as he reached for his pants. He unbuckled the belt and drew it out of its loops in a second before tossing it to the ground, before popping open the button and unzipping the jeans. Placing a knee on the couch next to your thigh, Frank pulled himself out and used your essence to coat his cock and jack himself off. 

“The things you do to me, Sweetheart.” He slowly ran his thumb along the already visible mark around your throat. “The way you fuckin’ trust me.” While keeping the fingers on your neck, Frank slid the thumb up your chin until he could pull your lower lip down with it. “Fuck,” he hissed, as you opened your mouth and invited the thumb inside, his cock spilling a few drops of pre-come at the view and the feeling. 

Frank didn’t hesitate and pushed his thumb inside, groaning as you closed your mouth again and sucked on it while locking eyes with him. You were the one to moan as he pressed down on your tongue, but Frank picked up the pace on his length as you only sucked harder, your eyes conveying that you did, in fact, trust him completely. He came a moment later with a sharp gasp, his come painting your chest and stomach in thick streaks. 

As he panted and stared at you through half lidded eyes, he saw you watching him attentively while gently swirling your tongue around his thumb. You grinned at him as you saw him watching, and playfully nipped at the digit before he withdrew it with a small snort. 

He let himself fall next to you with a long breath and turned his face towards you with one raised eyebrow as he put himself away again. 

“So… Somethin’ on your mind?” he inquired, as he watched you absently run a finger along the reddening marks on your neck. 

You would have to wear a scarf or a turtleneck for the upcoming days. While Frank would have felt bad about it any other day, he didn’t right then, considering that you’d come exactly for that if your satisfied smile was anything to go by. If nothing else, it was turning him on to see you this relaxed, fingering the marks and completely ignoring the splatters of come on your skin. 

“Mm, no, not really,” you grinned. “Just really missed your hands.”

Frank huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes as you winked at him before he lifted an arm to pull you closer.

[azulera]

Bisous

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Black Reader

Summary: 5 different ways that Kylian gives you kisses.

Notes: this is 1 of my favorite things i've ever written I think! qué emoción. Gentle feedback is very welcome + ao3 link

————————————————————————

I.

You have a life of your own, and a busy one too, but you always make time for small moments with your lover - a trip to the café, or a night at the cinema. What was small before, with Kylian, suddenly swells to the size of France, the size of Europe, to the size of the world. You’re unpleasantly reminded while waiting in line for a ticket to a 10pm show, and standing impossibly close to each other to brave the weather. The Parisian chill brings out his chivalry, so your hands rest in the pockets of his own jacket.

You look up into your boyfriend’s face colored by streetlights, at his lips gone slightly chapped in the wind and want to kiss them smooth, but think twice, knowing unfriendly eyes and cameras are always watching. It’s as if he can read your thoughts in your eyes, though, as he instead presses a kiss onto your hair that has gone even curlier with the chill. You pretend you can feel the heat of it traveling through your head, down to your chest and all throughout your body. When you see the flash of a phone camera, you go cold, turning and hiding your face in the wall of his chest. When the lights turn to voices, questions, and yells, you begin to pull away, but his hand finds yours and squeezes. The ticket line moves and he is diplomatic, talking his way out of a crowd all while his other arm weighs solid across your shoulders. You hold so tight to his fingers, you think you might break them. But he never lets go.

II.

At family dinners at chez Mbappé, French and English and Arabic blend and blur, and yet everyone is understood. You are even introduced to a cousin, with whom you and Kylian can flex your well-practiced Spanish. Over bowls of salad and rice and stew, conversations, jokes and memories fly and land and a picture comes into focus: in each of his loved ones a piece of the puzzle that makes him who he is, plus that special, unnameable thing that drew you to him in the first place. In the warmth of their presence, that thing grows and blossoms into its fullest form, stress and responsibilities shedding away until only a playful joy is left. Soon you fall under this spell, too, chatting with the adults and playing games with the children, both by his side and on your own. The fullness in your heart at what this means leaks out through your smiles, which come and stay until your face hurts too much from laughing.

What you see shining in his eyes over your dessert napkin later in the night almost frightens you with its tenderness. There are no words to describe what he wants to say, and this is no place for grand gestures, but the silent press of his lips against the back of your hand says a million words, in all of the languages you both speak.

III.

On rides home after a match, whether thrilling win or crushing loss, Kylian is defeated. He slumps into the backseat like a man twice his age, having given the most youthful part of himself to the grass and dirt glowing beneath stadium lights. You, instead, vibrate with energy, adrenaline surging so much from watching along that even your brown cheeks mimic the red stripes on his jersey. So, the two of you meet somewhere in the middle. Seatbelts are forgotten, his head rests on your chest, and your arms circle his back while you wait for your heartbeats to reach a common level.

When his lips latch on to your neck in the dark of the car, you know they are only kisses for kissing’s sake. They are a promise, a reminder, a shadow of a desire hindered only by an exhaustion that permeates his bones. So, you hold him up, enjoying the feeling, and letting him know so, fingers dragging gently along the nape of his neck. Tomorrow he will be bright and buzzing again, but for now he is a gentle giant, calm and docile as a baby, a warm weight between your arms. If he leaves marks to be found in the morning, you know what they will really mean is “thank you”.

IV.

In the mornings, you hear his voice before you see his face, and it is low and rich and as sweet to your ears as a song. His body is soft and warm beside yours in the breaking sunlight, yet he pulls you closer, hands reaching for your golden skin as if you were the sun itself.

“Ma fille d’or,” He calls you, breathing in your scent with his nose between your neck and shoulder. “I have to go.”

“Je sais.” You speak with your eyes closed. “Do you want me to get up with you?”

“Non, just stay there, just as you are. Tu est vraiment belle, tu sais?"

“J’ai entendu ça déjà, oui.”

He laughs, so close to your face you can feel the vibration, and then his lips, against your cheeks, eyelids, nose and chin. Tickling you, teasing you, and making you miss him already. You are so swept up you hardly notice when he’s stopped. You open your eyes to his apologetic, smiling face.

“A bientôt, mon amour.”

“A bientôt.”

“Au revoir.”

“Au revoir.”

He is making leaving harder than it has to be, but a final kiss on your bare shoulder makes it softer. He leaves to go get ready for training, and you turn over in bed slowly, carefully. If you don’t ruffle the sheets too much, and stay very still, you can close your eyes and imagine he’s still there.

V.

On empty evenings in your bedroom, where it is the two of you alone, your affection for each other is no longer burdened by place or time. Here, you could kiss him for hours and he would not get tired, and he is as persistent and insatiable as he is on the pitch. Whether you are on top of him, beneath him, or beside him is no matter - the sinews of his body are agile as they bend to you, your mouths drawn to each other as if by magnets behind your teeth.

Here, his kisses punctuate his needs and wants: “Non”, “Oui”, “Look at me”, “Don’t stop”, and you learn to identify his desires by their pressure. There are deep kisses, him swallowing all the sounds you make, and shallow pecks that force more sound out of you, but in each variation there is something the same. Three words, one phrase, whispered, shouted, and cursed, before, during, and after. He speaks them into your open mouth, one time in French, in Spanish, in English, and you think that no lips have ever uttered anything more beautiful. You are breathless, cradled in his strong arms, and lost in his eyes when, one by one, you kiss them back into his.

[kkydult]

— interview with a vampire

vampire!leehan x gn!reader - suggestive(?) - !! blood !! - 0.8k

a/n. ik its not halloween anymore but this has been on my mind i just was able to sit and write it now soo enjoy either

it had been going on the news lately to not walk out late alone, three disappearances over the course of the past two weeks you tried your best to follow these instructions working a late schedule almost every night but working a shitty job never payed off and you were left behind to sort documents after hours, you kept track of the time as you tried to hurry in hopes of leaving at best before 10pm so when midnight struck you felt obligated to call someone to pick you up.

after a couple tries, listening to the ringing but without any response on the other end you decide to take up courage so you could get home as quickly as possible, your first instinct was to grab a small knife from the kitchen and keep it in your purse, just in case you told yourself as you walked out the door.

the air was chilly and somber, you quickened your pace at every step avoiding alleyways that you would usually take, anticipating the one you could avoid that lead to your front door, you kept your gaze forward not willing to turn back, the streets were so empty just the thought of there being someone behind you terrified you, almost like foreseeing you watch a man in a tall trench coat walk past you, your eyes met his as he walked by the wind blowing his hair aside as you looked his way, it felt uncanny the look in his eyes, you watched him disappear into the night as you neared your street.

taking no chances as you stood in front of the dark road, the light were supposed to be automatic but they never actually work so you had to resort to your phone, you grabbed the knife along with it only to get a sharp cut on your palm as you rummaged through your things, you pulled your hand out of your bag to check the cut and realized you weren’t alone looking up in front of your stood the man from earlier he had a hungry look in his eyes and before you could even step back he told your hand eyes locked on yours as licked the blood away grazing his tongue along your cut, your head runs blank as you stand there and it all goes dark.

“Rise and shine” as you open your eyes your heart pace quickens as you look around at the unfamiliar room you weren’t restrained but the room was small and you were on a bed on the floor, there he was again you could see his face clearly now his skin was pale and the reflection of light on it made it seem like it shined, he watched you as you analyzed the situation wondering what your next move would be and frankly even you had no idea you felt hopeless,

“are you going to kill me here?” you started as tears trickled down your cheeks slowly, he looked offended by your words,

“you fainted i wasn’t going to abandon you in the street,” he argued running his fingers through his hair, you looked puzzled but you figured he was trying to twist your mind after all he did kidnap you, “you should be more careful fainting in strangers hands, people are getting abducted” he smiled amused by his words, you looked around for your bag hoping you could still use the knife just as you moved he was right in front of you, a second ago he was across the room then it hit you, you crawled backwards stopped by the wall behind you as you tried to inch away from his touch,

“what the fuck are you?” he frowned as he drew the knife you so desperately wanted out of your bag, letting it draw the outline of his hand carefully before he looked at you,

“you’re a smart girl, take a guess,” you could only look at him in fear as he spoke so softly, his tone was distracting making you doubt your fear but the look on his face was so different it was full of lust and desire all that pointed at you, “you’re a vampire..?” you choked on your words feeling more and more unsteady in his presence, he smiled licking his lips the next second you were under him his hands holding down yours above your head, his lips grazing your ears as he whispered,

“you’re starting to get it, let me show you more” something about his voice made you curious, you didn’t even bother fighting it when he let his teeth dig into your neck, the feeling of him sucking on your neck had you dazed you didn’t even care if he took it all, you let yourself breathe out against his skin as he pulled away blood dripping from his lips as he looked at you this time his features looked softer you could see his soft brown eyes even with the blood dripping out of his mouth he looked gentle you let his lips crash into yours tasting your blood all over him,

“can you taste that? that’s all you”

[kxyera]

How the Ghouls spend time alone (SFW) <3

All fluff, first time i've ever wrote something like this :)

Aurora

I know for a FACT this girl can draw. She can sketch, paint, reference, shade and draw in multiple art styles. She's incredibly proud of her art (AS SHE SHOULD?!) and always draws little sketches of the other ghouls when shes bored or alone. She sometimes rips the pages out and gives it to the ghoul she drew, they always fawn over it and thank her multiple times.

Cirrus

She's a doomscroller. Enough said. She has a screen-time of over 10 hours and is not ashamed whatsoever. She also loves online shopping, she spends at least half her time scrolling to buy things she cant and will probably never afford or wear.

Cumulus

THIS. GIRL. CROCHETS. SHE IS A CROCHET QUEEN. She especially loves making stuffed animals and makes the ghouls little stuffed animals for anti-christmas and their birthdays. They're always personalised and is colour-coded to the giftee's element (EG: Fire = Red wool, Water = Blue wool, Air = White/grey wool, Earth = Green/brown wool, Quintessence = Purple). She loves the time and effort spent in making crochet projects, and absolutely adores seeing the other ghouls' face light up when they're gifted one of her projects.

Sunshine

I feel like she'd just enjoy the alone time. She'd go on walks by herself, skipping and listening to music. She just loves everything and is literally a walking ray of sun. literally.

Swiss

He definitely plays loud music and sings along to it. Other ghouls either love it or hate it, depends on what time of day/night it is. He once woke up Sodo at 2am from it. DEEPLY regretted it. Has always stopped playing music at exactly 10pm after that incident.

Sodo

Depending on his mood, he'll either practice his guitar or go on walks. He almost always practices his guitar as he thinks its the only thing that will keep him focused in on something. He plays to get his mind off of whatever happened and he'll only goes on walks when he knows he needs to properly clear his head.

Mountain

He'd be a gardening boy. His room is full of plants and he knows the exact name of every plant in his room. He'd go out to the ministry gardens and sit underneath one of the trees reading. He's a calm boy.

Rain

You bet your ass if its a rainy day he's out there running around in it. Heavy rain? He loves it. Storm? No problem. Thunder? He'll jump at the large crashes of thunder, but find it to be music to his ears. He takes daily showers and the water has to be cold. He loves cold water (especially in the mornings) and he absolutely has a rainfall shower head. His spare time is spent damp.

Phantom

This little gremlin is a walking pile of chaos. He once baked with the ghoulettes when he was bored. Its safe to say he's now officially banned from the kitchen. Everytime he has spare time alone, he instantly goes to find someone to mess about with. He also plans elaborate pranks to pull on the other ghouls in the future. Yes, he has a notebook with all these plans.

Aether

He’s the type of guy that reads a lot of old novels, always has a book on him. He *loves* H.P. Lovecraft, especially ‘Call of Cthulhu’ and could talk about it for hours by a cozy fire if he had someone to listen

[akkaweo-akkaweo]

Rare Encounters

Na Goeun x F!reader

Tags: scissoring, thigh riding

WC: 3.6k

—————

Everyone at school loved Na Goeun. No one knew how she could handle it all: being in student council, joining the drama club, and still managing to almost make it as class valedictorian (rank 2 isn't half bad though). She never had a bad rep or record, except that she had rejected almost every boy that asked her out. On the few occasions she did indulge in a date, that would be the last of it.

Something about that drew you to her. She was already nice enough to help you out in the few lab activities you got paired together for. She even got you some candy on the last day of class, which, while she did give to several other people, probably meant she remembered you enough to give one to.

Fast forward to today, and... actually, you don't know what happened to her. No one did.

It wasn't something bad or negative though; it's just that she had fallen off practically everyone's radars. Some say she got into a prestigious college under a pretty tight scholarship; others say she auditioned and is training for some entertainment company given her drama background. But the fact was, no one had a definitive answer.

That was, until your class reunion.

The buzz spread like wildfire. Your phone with a dozen different groupchats couldn't stop vibrating when someone sent a screenshot of the LINE message inviting everyone to come. Clear as day, Na Goeun sent a reaction.

"You think she'd actually go?," asked Ireh, sitting beside you and your friend Dosie at a cafe nearby your old school. The three of you still kept in touch, and just as you frequented this small coffee shop back then, you found yourselves coming back to it when everyone had the time.

"Beats me. Maybe she's so busy she butt pressed it and hasn't seen it.," Dosie remarked.

"Come on," you added. "That's so unlikely. Besides... it should be impossible for her to not be interested. It's Goeun. She had friends everywhere."

"Sometimes, an introvert can look a lot like an extrovert. Maybe we just never saw her being exactly that," Dosie replied.

"I suppose that makes sense," Ireh said. "Still wouldn't explain how she managed to stay introverted for 6 years."

Ireh and Dosie were both on a break from training at different arts schools. You on the other hand were taking a science course – likely thanks to Goeun for making it not as intimidating to you in the first place – and so when the two had to return to their dorms, you stayed on. The store owner knew you by now since you would often work quietly in the corner until the shop closed at around 10:30PM.

Tonight, however, someone new entered just before the store closed shop. It was a petite woman with long, jet black hair, with an aura and poise you almost couldn't believe you were seeing for the first time in years.

It was Goeun, in the flesh. And seeing her just as beautiful as before sent your chest in knots.

See, what no one really knew was that while it was primarily guys that had crushes on Goeun, you're pretty sure girls, like you, did too. You never threw away the wrapper of that candy she gave you. You cherishes every day marveling at Goeun tutoring you every lab session. And everyone's collective investment on whether she would be at the reunion did nothing but rekindle those feelings.

Now, Goeun existed in your world and only yours. Despite that sounding a lot creepier than it actually is, it was the truth. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be the only one with her, just this once.

"Goeun-ssi," you said softly, hoping she'd turn around. She didn't.

You slink back in your chair, embarassed. Maybe it's not so good an idea to bother her? Like Dosie said, maybe she just never was the type to socialize, and the last thing she'd need at 10PM was some random person to bother her night munchies.

What you don't notice as you hide yourself in your hoodie and close your eyes as you think of that is that, as Goeun finishes placing her order in, she turns around as she jams to the music she's playing on her AirPods. And right as you open your eyes, she looks up from her phone.

"Wait," Goeun said. "You look familiar."

You reply nervously. "Yeah, uh... we were lab partners a few times. Under Baek-seonsaengnim?" You realize hiding in your hoodie might be making it harder for her to remember, so you lift your hoodie and remove your mask.

"Oh!," she exclaimed. "It's you! Hi! Oh wow, I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you! How have you been? Pardon me." Flustered, she put her earbuds away.

"No it's okay! I was just about to head home," you respond, closing your notebook and laptop quickly. "I don't want to keep you."

"No, please, don't worry about it! I just happened to come by the area. Before the reunion," she added.

So she did plan to go. Guess Dosie was wrong.

"Tell you what," she said. "Do you still live nearby? The apartments just up the road?"

"Not too far from that, you turn left by the convenience store instead of going straight," you respond.

"Oh neat! I'm not that far from you then. Why don't I join you for a bit?," she replied.

"It's okay! I can manage," you add shyly.

"Nonsense, it's late. I got you," she rebutted. "Besides, it's nice to see you again! You have to tell me how you've been."

You warm up a bit, and open yourself to being a bit more chatty. "Same here."

Waiting for your coffee, you try and make the first move. "Funny, I was just with Dosie and Ireh a few hours ago."

"Really! How are they? They still into performing?," she asked.

"Yeah. They're not classmates though, but I think they're both going to try out at the same theatre group when they graduate soon."

"That's great! Wow, it's so nice to actually hear from our classmates nowadays."

"Wait, so you haven't met anyone? None at all? In six whole years?"

"Well... I did spot Chaein from afar, you remember her right? From my section? Anyway, there was a time she saw me from afar while I was waiting for a bus, but before she could say hi, I had to go. Otherwise, no, probably just some random guys I actively tried to not run into when I caught them," she replied. "And, well, you! Right now!"

As you both step out of the cafe with fresh cups of coffee in hand, you head the way home. It's finals week for first semester, so the air is cold and damp.

After a few seconds of silence, only disrupted by the crunching of feet on asphalt, Goeun speaks up. "So... I'm pretty sure you're gonna ask me where I've been."

"Well... yeah. But I figured you had your reasons. I mean... you did, right?," you asked. "Not that it affects me or anything, it's just... I always thought you would, I don't know, be an actress or an idol, or literally anything–"

"Wah, jjinja?," she exclaimed. "Gosh no, I don't think I could make singing and drama my entire life."

"So what was your life then?"

"College."

What you thought was a pause turned out to be a full stop. "Wait, that's it? No scholarship, no special gigs? Just college?"

"No, of course not! Seriously, why does everyone assume I just get these things?," she laughed, seemingly shocked by the assumption.

"Because you were THE Na Goeun?!," you said incredulously. "Everyone thought you'd be out there in the world, not disappearing off the face of it," you retort.

"Hey, for what it's worth, I finally got to do some things I couldn't before. Jog more frequently, record songs instead of just performing, go skiing during winter. It's fun."

"But did you not miss any of it?"

"Any of what?" she presses, looking puzzled.

"The attention? The social life? Being loved by everyone?"

She looks up for a few seconds pondering on her answer. "Well, that's a lot to answer. First... I guess I did miss it a bit. Not enough to seek it out though, as you can tell. And second, I honestly just step away from it all, you know? I wanted to lay low, just excel quietly without getting attention, graduate, and do whatever it is I have to do to earn money nowadays. Does that answer your question?"

"I... yeah," you reply, shocked by both how much and how little you know of Goeun.

"But for the record," she glared at you, eyebrow raised with a smirk, "I succeed for no one other than myself."

You clicked your tongue and pointed at her. "There's the Goeun I know."

You both laugh as you share stories, struggling – and barely succeeding – not to wake up all your neighbors. You must have failed either way, because right in the middle of your conversation, rain suddenly pours, drenching both you and Goeun. You run to your porch, fortunately only about a hundred meters away, and laugh even harder when you both process what just happened.

"Don't even think about going home in this rain. I'm so sorry!," you said.

"Are you kidding? This is the most fun I've had in a while!," she replied.

"Please, dry yourself off inside! You can stay over until the rain subsides."

Walking Goeun up the stairs provided an all-important reality check: you were bringing your high school crush, who until now remained a mystery to everyone else, and is still pretty as hell even drenched, to your place, alone?

You power through the growing anxiety and successfully reach your apartment. It wasn't the biggest, considering your parents were the ones fully paying for it, so having a second person already made the place feel twice as stuffed.

You point Goeun to the bathroom to freshen herself up first, while you search for some spare clothes you could lend her. The flannel and jeans you were wearing sent sharp sensations of cold all over your body, so you instinctively remove them, leaving you in your underwear. In your rush to find clothes for Goeun, you miss her unlock the bathroom door and step out, herself also in just a sports bra and her underwear. When you turn around, you give a slight yelp.

"Ai, I'm sorry!" Goeun said, hiding behind the door. You both shuffle around awkwardly trying to find a way to get dressed, but, perhaps to break the awkwardness, she adds, "You have a nice body, you know that?"

You feel your body scrunch up a bit, trying to hide yourself. But Goeun walks up to you, grabbing towels you hung on a chair to cover both you and herself up. As she wraps your shoulders in a towel, she places a hand over the arm you've placed over your chest, trying to ease you up.

"Hey, it's okay," she reassured. "I know we're not close, but you don't have to be so shy." She looks at you, and your eyes meet. She always had very pretty eyes, accentuated by their size and the way they glisten in the light.

"If only I was as pretty as you, maybe," you blurt out suddenly. When you realize what you just did, you take your other hand and cover your mouth, shocked and scared. Even she looked surprised, and the two of you stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

Both of you were trying to formulate whole ideas, but Goeun is the first to get a word out.

"I... think you're pretty too," she said.

Another round of staring. You barely notice it, but now you're almost up to each others' bodies. Fuck it, here we go I guess.

"I thought you were pretty ever since high school," you add. "I even kept that candy you gave me on the last day of school."

"Did you really?," she giggled. "You know, I gave you that because I remembered you as a lab partner."

"Why, was it because I barely helped? I'm sorry if I was too much for you to carry."

"No no, not like that... because back then, I'd see the way you look at me with those eyes, and it was cute. I remembered that."

You aren't that much taller than Goeun (maybe less than half a head), but you can feel yourself having to look down a bit more as you move your body closer to her.

"Goeun...," you whisper, "every time some guy asked you out and you rejected them, I always thought I'd actually be able to make you happy. But I also accepted I'd never be able to tell you that I liked you."

"Well," she says, as she tipped on her toes and plants a kiss on your cheek. "now's your chance. Do you perhaps... still like me now?," she asked innocently.

Your heart thumps all the way into your eardrums, but, with how close she was to you, you could feel her heart beating quickly as well. You're lightheaded, but at the same time aware of everything around you, most especially Na Goeun looking into your eyes with a smile.

You press your forehead into hers and close your eyes. No point hiding anything now.

"Yes, Goeun-ssi, I still like you."

She chuckled again, though sounding a bit nervous. "Please, I think we're past the point of you calling me that way. Just call me Goeun."

At that moment, a switch flips: literally, in that both of you have unwittingly backed into a light switch in the room; and figuratively, in that after exchanging a quick laugh, you both lean in together for a kiss. It was soft, gentle, and also unsure, but a second kiss erases all that fear.

Every moment your lips parted came longer than the last. You were immersed in the warmth of someone you've dreamt about in the past, and that's all that mattered then and there.

You break your kiss, and guide her to the edge of your bed. Goeun stares at you, for once seemingly unsure of what to say, and you move your hands to the sides of her chest. She gives a quiet nod, and you work her bra and panties off her. She does the same, moving her hands to your hips, and you nod in return. You both had a language only both of you could understand, and it burned you up inside.

When you pull her to the bed however, Goeun is just staring into your eyes still, like she's trying to say something.

"Is everything okay? Am I going too fast?," you ask, trying to calm her.

"No, it's just... this is my first time with a girl, and I haven't done anything like this in... I don't even remember," she replied.

You give a warm, reassuring smile. "Don't worry, this is my first time too. We'll... figure this out together I guess?," you added. She closes her eyes and smiles, looking more relaxed than a minute ago. She always was a perfectionist.

"No one's ever told me that before," she said, looking shocked from the statement. "Okay."

Both of you resume making out. Still not intense nor heavy, just enough to focus on each others' lips. Time to time, you or Goeun would pause to just look at your other half, and continue. Every pause you snuggle closer – perhaps still cold from the rain pouring outside. And, when your eyes lock, you giggle and keep going.

She breaks the rout with a light kiss on your nose. "You're cute when you have nothing to say."

You feel your cheeks flush. "If you're going to tell me you've been flirting with me ever since lab, I'm going to freak."

"If I managed to learn to flirt between then and now, it's a miracle," she replied. "But I mean it. You're cute in a way other guys can't be."

You place a hand over her cheek, rubbing it with your thumb. "I really hope this isn't a dream," you say, before kissing Goeun again.

"I don't think dreams would feel this real," she laughed.

You start making out again, your hands now straying to different parts of each others' body. Goeun's hand slides down your chest, pausing between your breasts, your hand works up her spine to the back of her head.

You pull her in closer, sliding your leg between hers, and hers between yours. You can feel the warmth of her core, and you're sure she can too. Both of you connect with a jolt; you feel Goeun's breath stagger. She looks at you again, with a look that said "it's okay, I'm yours."

You start to rub yourself on her leg, and she follows suit. Slick builds up on your thigh, and deep breaths trail behind. You can't hold back your moans, but neither does Goeun; her whimpers of pleasure are fed straight into your ear. The harder both of you grind, the harder you pull her closer to you, as if wanting to experience your stimulation as one whole.

"Does it feel good?," you ask under your breath.

"Yes, shit, I want more."

You're now determined to do one thing and one thing only: make Goeun feel good. You prop yourself up on a knee to get on top of her; her petite body rises and falls with her heavy breaths. She tries to get up on her elbows to meet you, but you place a hand on her chest. "Let me," you whisper, and she plops back down.

You feel around her folds, glistening and sticky from the stimulation you gave her. You give her one last glance, and her eyes are closed, ready to take you in. You slide a finger in, and Goeun gasps, feeling all of you in her. Her breaths are giggly, trembly expressions of pleasure, and it unsurprisingly turned you on. You reciprocated the pleasure with a second finger, causing her to lurch her back in ecstasy.

"Hah, that's so good! Please don't stop!," Goeun begs. You have never imagined her to be on the receiving end of anything, much less this, but you're committed to make her keep begging for more – as a metric of her enjoyment, of course.

You didn't anticipate, though, how much of a quick study Goeun could be, as she forces herself up and reaches a hand towards your groin. You feel a finger graze your clit, causing you to squeak, and Goeun continued to go crazy on it. Both of you are staring deeply and longingly at each other, legs crossed between each other – and of course, now fingering each other.

You couldn't take it anymore; you needed more of Goeun, and you wanted to give her more of you. You grab her hand out of your pussy and guide it to her mouth, and you do the same to your own. Your moans and movements at this point are so synchronized that when you drag her closer to start scissoring her, you're surprised to slam right into her juicy warmth without much distance covered.

Just like tides slamming and receding back, you and Goeun rub your pussies into each other. Waves of pleasure ripple across your body, and you can feel in the way she trembles in your grasp that so is Goeun. You're hungry for her, and the look in her eyes confirm she wanted to know exactly that. As you creep closer to your edge, a dam bursts open inside your chest, and you grip ever more tightly on to Goeun. She holds on to you just as tightly, enough to be moaning right next to each others' ears yet again.

Suddenly, you couldn't stop yourself from blurting everything you've ever thought about Goeun to her. "Fuck, Goeun, I've always dreamt this, I've touched myself to this dream so many times, please don't leave me! I'll do everything to make you stay! Please don't let me go! I just want to be yours!," you cry out in desperation.

"Yes, yes, yes, baby! You're mine! I'm not letting you go! I want to cum together! I'm so close!," she screams in reply. Those sweet words were enough to finally you make you tremble and leak, just before squirting all over her hips. Your orgasm in turn brought Goeun to her climax, your fluids mixing with each other, consummating your newly forged commitment to each other.

Together, you tip to the side, still locked into that embrace, catching your breath. The moans hidden beneath her breaths are soft but unabated, and you feel satisfied knowing she most definitely enjoyed herself.

When Goeun comes to, you stare at her and give her a kiss on her nose. "You're cuter when you're relaxed."

The gesture appeared to have jolted Goeun to her senses, as she gives a faint smile.

"I'm lucky I found you tonight of all nights," she whispered. Your softest voices were now audible, as the rain had finally subsided.

"And I'm lucky the rain kept you here," you reply. You look outside, thinking what comes next after this, and Goeun responded immediately by using her forehead to pull yours in.

"I'm not going anywhere," she reassured.

"Not even the reunion?," you taunt, giving a childish pout.

"Of course I'm going to that, silly," she giggles. "Only if you promise to come with me."

"It's a date then," you reply. "Finally."

—————

A/N: hope this one surprises the few plorys out here in the wild. hopefully i get to make for kween dosie next

[rachalixie]

a/n: for @moonacholy’s request for spooky fic with vampire hyunsung and witch felix and reader! sorry i lost your ask baby, i posted it and had to delete it and repost :(

you giggle at hyunjin’s sigh as jisung applies another layer of white makeup to his face, and you follow in with a delicate swipe of blush just like you knew he didn’t want it. he’s wearing a ridiculous dracula outfit that shouldn’t look good on anyone, complete with greased back hair and a red lined cape. but hyunjin looks unfairly good in everything, so. he looks phenomenal.

“vampires aren’t even this pale. i should know. i am one.” he whines, kicking jisung’s shin much harder than he ever could kick a human’s. jisung, on the other hand, went the twilight route, with glistening sparkly skin and his glowy yellow eyes out on display. he’s wearing a shirt that says say it. out loud. it made you cackle when he first emerged from his room in it.

“oh really?” jisung feigns surprise, his red-painted lips forming into a perfect ‘O’. “i’ve never met a vampire before! what’s that like? what does blood taste like?”

“jisung shut up, you literally drank some of my blood last night.” felix rolls his eyes as he joins you all in the kitchen and wraps an arm around you. “the blood that i drew out for a really important potion, and i now need to wait for the next full moon to arrive to do. remind me to never let you drink witches blood again, by the way, it makes you way too hyper.”

you ignore jisung’s indignant squawk to turn towards your boyfriend and press a soft kiss to his cheek. he has star sequins dotting his face, one for each freckle you could find, and his tall and pointy witches hat matches the one perched on top of your head. it almost falls off when you lean in, but he catches it with one hand while the other squeezes you closer into him. he winks at you as you let some of your magic seep through the air, turning the tips of his hair bright pink and the fringe of yours a deep purple.

“are we going out?” you ask, glancing at the time on the microwave’s clock. it’s nearly 10pm, the day is almost over and you want to get out at least a couple hours of being out and about in your true forms, even if it’s playing pretend. you’re meeting your werewolf friend chan and his packmates jeongin and seungmin at a party, and you’re sure that felix’ fae cousin changbin and his mermaid roommate minho will be there too. among a bunch of unassuming humans too, but tonight thats the least of your worries. its halloween, the one night you all don’t have to hide.

“one more shot before we go!” jisung cries, pouring out a couple of blood shots for him and hyunjin while you pour out normal ones for you and felix. in different colored shot glasses, of course, you can only make the mistake of accidently drinking blood once before you learn quickly how not to mix them up.

you all stumble out of your apartment together, walking towards the full moon and enjoying each other’s company until you hear a series of loud kissing noises and a thump coming from behind you.

“but hyunjinnie!” jisung is pouting, draping himself over hyunjin’s shoulders and keeping his grip when the taller boy tries to knock him off. “you’re my soulmate!”

“maybe. doesn’t mean i want your lips anywhere near mine.” the blonde boy grimaces, taking jisung’s hand anyways.

“after over 200 years of being together, you think they would get tired of the bickering,” felix’ deep voice hits your ears, drawing attention away from the mess behind you and onto the boy whose hand your holding.

“you think we’re going to end up like them in 100 years?” you ask, smiling at him as if you know the answer already.

he just smiles in response, eyes twinkling like the stars as you continue to walk together.

—

soft hours

[redgoldsparks]

Well, I wasn't planning to do any hourly comics and then I did some! I just got a couple ideas late at night and wrote them all, then drew them yesterday afternoon. I didn't do one for every hour because the rest of the day I was literally just answering emails. Too boring to draw.

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

Transcript and descriptions: 

1-2pm

Panel 1: Maia, wearing sweats and a hoodie, scowls at eir laptop with a frustration scribble over eir head. E thinks, "I don't want to be reading insurance forms, I want to be drawing dragons!"

Panel 2: The top half of Maia's head in profile, scowling fiercely. Over eir head is a thought bubble in which a dragon sets fire to a pile of paperwork.

2-3pm

Panel 1: Maia sits at eir desk facing a laptop. Maia says, "Hola Maestra. Mi semana fue buena. Terminé una larga proyecto... um... Leí mucho." 

Panel 2: Closeup of Maia facing forward with a frustrated expression. Maia thinks, "I've been taking Spanish classes off and on for 14 YEARS and I still can't hold a solid conversation..."

7-8pm

Panel 1: Maia, in a Tae Kwon Do uniform and blue chest guard and helmet, with a blue belt, spars against a girl with a red chest guard, belt and helmet. Maia is doing a back kick which hits the girl in the leg, instead of on the chest guard. Text: In my class where we learn how to kick people, I kicked someone and really hurt her.

Panel 2: Maia sits with eir helmet in eir lap, eyes scrunched closed. Maia thinks: "I hope she's not bruised tomorrow... She's a higher belt level than me, she knows this can happen... I've been hurt in this class and I kept coming... it was an accident but I feel really bad :( Especially because she's younger than me :("

9-10pm

Panel 1: Maia looks at eir phone and thinks, "I love seeing everyone's hourlies! But I don't even have time to read them all..."

Panel 2: Maia looks thoughtfully to the side and thinks, "What if people didn't all do hourlies on the same day but we divided them evenly throughout the year"

Panel 3: Maia thinks, "I think everyone should do their hourlies on the first day of their birth month so I can read them all year round"

Panel 4: Maia smiles at eir phone, "Yep, I think I'm on to something!"

Happy late hourly comic day <3 Maia, 2023

[tetsuromybeloved]

another chance

♡ Bonten!Rindō Haitani x gn!reader

♡ angst

♡ part 2

♡ this is my first time writing for Rindo, hope you’ll like it 🥺

(navigation)

Shampoo, conditioner, cotton: you checked if you took everything when the idea of buying candies crossed your mind.

It was late, around 10pm, and you were out buying some groceries. You had been very busy all week because of work that you didn’t find the time to buy the few things that missed at home. To make it even worse, your flatmate had gone on vacation, which meant that no one could do it instead of you. 

You headed to the section where sweets were and started to look for something that you liked, leaving your cart next to you and moving slightly your head to the rhythm of the music in your earbuds. You sighed, not finding your favourites, when you saw a hand shake in front of you. You backed off startled, stepping on someone’s foot; you turned around taking off your hear buds ready to apologise, when you froze.

What was he doing there in front of you? 

You tried to play it cool, faking that you didn’t recognised him. “Sorry” you said looking down, trying to get away from him, but he stopped you raising an arm. “Hey… don’t you recognise me?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you. You glanced at him and shivered; impassive face, emotionless eyes. He was still the same even after changing haircut and facial features had grown; “no sorry” you answered, hoping that he would leave you alone. 

He rolled his eyes, understanding that you just didn’t want to talk to him. He decided to stick to your game, “Rindou” he said. Observing your reaction he added “Haitani Rindou”. Like there was another Rindou, you thought.

“Ah” was the only thing that left your mouth. “Yeah” he said, putting his hands in the pockets of his grey sweatpants; he was handsome, you couldn’t deny it, but you had to get away from there, away from him. 

You tried to surpass him, “well… I have to go” you said. He stepped in front of you and looked at you while you held your gaze on your shoes. You sighed being aware that he wouldn’t let you go so easily, “I don’t want to see you Rindou” you started then raised your face to look at him, “I have to go” you continued sternly. 

He observed you with his icy gaze, however even after years, you could see from his eyes that he was hurt from what you said. People that didn’t know him wouldn’t have noticed but, after all the moments you two spent together, Rindou would always be an open book for you. He sighed and passed a hand through his purple hair, “could you at least listen to me?” he asked but you didn’t want to talk to him, not when you were still in love with him. 

You shook your head trying to back away from him, but he always stopped you; after the nth time of him blocking you way, “Rin!” you exclaimed furious. 

The moment you realised how you called him, you widened your eyes, same as Rindou. Your cheeks began to flush and you looked to your right trying to hid your face. You were embarrassed but, on the other side, Rindo just wanted to hold you close, he missed your warmth. “What… what did you call me?” he said walking closer to you. You took a step back, but the shelves behind you blocked you; he drew closer to you, until the space between you two was only a few centimetres. You looked around to check if anyone was observing you, but who would be in a convenience shop at night? You gave him a quick glance before attempting to shove him away, but he remained in place. He put an arm above your head and inched even closer, “I missed you y/n” he said looking directly in your eyes. 

You felt on the verge of tears because of how weak you felt; you thought you wanted to get away from him but there you were. Him hovering over you, and the only thing you wanted was to kiss him. “Please Rindou” you whispered holding your hands in fists over his chest. He took one of your hands keeping it even closer to his body and shook his head, “I don’t want to leave you… not now that I found you again”. You were tired and beaten up from work and, the last thing you wanted was the guy who you had always been in love with, who was also one of the most feared criminals, to tell you that he missed you. You looked at your right and a tear fell from your eyes, “no” you murmured. 

How could he tell you that he didn’t want to leave you when he was the first one to leave? 

“Please” he muttered, and you shook your head while tears fell from your eyes. He took both your hands and held them so closely to him that you felt like you could have passed through his body. “Please” he said again, and inside of you, you felt your heart ache because it hurt to reject him. 

But how could you take him back after he had been able to break you? 

You turned your face towards him and furrowed your eyebrows, “leave me” you whispered through gritted teeth. A storm of emotions was raging inside of you; you were angry because he wasn’t respecting your space but, on the other side, you wanted to break the little distance that was left between you two.  Why couldn’t he just disappear like he had done in the past?

He shook his head again, “please y/n... give me another chance” he continued. You broke into sobs and pushed him away.

“I told you that I don’t want to see you” you said trying not to raise your voice so that the cashier wouldn’t hear you. He stood there silently staring at you, his eyes telling you that he was hurt, but how could he be the one suffering?

You dried your tears but it was useless, they didn’t want to stop. You picked up your bag that had fallen before, and turned to look at him, “how could you ask me to give you another chance when you were the one who left me?”.

You started to walk towards him while crying, “how can I give you another chance when you teared me apart after all the chances I gave you?” you asked again. Rindou was observing you with shock in his eyes but didn’t try to answer back. When you arrived in front of him you pointed a finger in his chest, looking in his eyes “why can’t you just disappear like you did when you decided I was no longer enough for you?” you said. 

Your lower lips trembled when you looked at him; a tiny part of you wished he would continue to fight to have you back, but he stood still. He looked at you with his impassive face and you understood that he was just bored, he didn’t want you back. You glanced at him one more time, when a voice interrupted “everything is okay guys?”. You turned around to look at the person and nodded, “yes, no problem” you whispered while drying your face. The guy nodded with a worried look and went away. 

You turned around and took your cart, “don’t ever try to talk to me again, Haitani” you said and went away. Rindou stayed there, looking at you. He didn’t do anything to stop you. You wished he did. 

© tetsuromybeloved do not copy,modify or repost.

reblogs are appreciated 🫶🏻

[apoptoses]

DANIEL -

3. What first drew you to this character? 12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character? 26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding? 34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life? 50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

okay you also asked for Armand with the same questions so for the sake of organization i'm gonna do both in one post!!!

What first drew you to this character?

Daniel: I just really like what a great stand-in for the reader he can be because yeah, I'm sure EVERYONE who read these books at some point had the same thought- that they would want to be turned and they'd see immortality as a gift. I like his shameless love of these monsters, the line about liking kissing and snuggling with dead things? Made me absolutely insane. I like that he's not afraid to mouth off to something so dangerous while he's still mortal. I like his drinking issues, his weird craft fixations. Basically everything we got in the text was incredible imo, he's a fave!!

Armand: Honestly Armand didn't really click with me until QotD. In my mind he was a Louis-simp in interview, and then an angry bitchy little Jesus freak in tvl, but then he shows up in QotD and he's putting cigarettes down the garbage disposal and throwing money at Daniel to make him teach him about international calls and I was like- damn, this one is a FREAK deep down. So seeing him be erratic and out of place and curious about the world made me view him in a new light, and the moments of gentleness he shows later in the book really pulled the pieces together for me.

If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

Fuck, I really want some newly turned Daniel at Night Island for both of them. Like what went wrong? What kind of maker was Armand with all these ghosts from his past around? How long did it take for things to fall apart and what were the ups and downs of that period like? I really, really wanna work through that but I don't have even the slightest inkling of where I want to begin yet.

If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

So generally I start with fic rated Explicit or Mature, not just for pervert reasons lmao But I feel like if a writer can write some smut that really gets the characters and explores something interesting about them then most likely their fics with lower ratings are gonna be interesting and not pure woobification. (also if they're writing the kind of smut I like? Then we're likely similar flavors of freak and I know anything else they do is gonna be safe)

Also while I wanna write some vampire on vampire stuff, I generally prefer Daniel to be mortal for bodily exploitation purposes 😂

Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

Kacy pls you know what things have been like for me lately, every two weeks something is going on that has me feeling like I'm living the Full Molloy lmao I'll never live down the experience of sitting in my car at 10pm and having that liquor store owner come outside and wave to me while Lixx runs around inside with an armful of bottles of wine for my shot nerves.

Anyways in all seriousness I think about Daniel's speech to Armand when he's dying a lot:

“But don’t you see,” Daniel said, “all human decisions are made like this. Do you think the mother knows what will happen to the child in her womb? Dear God, we are lost, I tell you. What does it matter if you give it to me and it’s wrong! There is no wrong! There is only desperation, and I would have it! I want to live forever with you.”

The refusal to ruminate or get sucked into thinking of all the possible wrong outcomes, that at the end of the day there is no wrong decision there's only action- I think there's something poignant there and I would do better to not be like Armand, convinced everything will turn out poorly in the end.

Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

The fanart of Daniel that will always live rent free in my head is @nightislandofficial's art of him in tank top and cut off shorts bitching about 'give me what I want' lmao (though honestly all of their comics featuring Armand and Daniel send me, what a fandom gift)

Your series the Usher will forever have me in a chokehold like. Fic of all time!!! Also the thing you wrote for my wedding 🥹

God, for headcanons- anything stupid. Any headcanon that is really just a shitpost.

And my favorite quote for the two of them, just off the top of my head, would be Daniel saying "let me be a lover in the savage garden with you". He really had some killer lines, despite what little he got lol

[seesboy]

hello it seems i'm back here again with my Ambiguously Late 2000s AU except i managed to draw almost everyone this time around. woohoo

design notes && extra stuff under the cut :-)

~ if there's one design i'm not completely confident about it's combeferre's x_x i honestly didn't know where i was going with it outside of designating him as the Blue in the red/blue/yellow thing i did with enj/him/courf respectively. i might revise it in the future to make it fit him better but for now this is what i'm sticking to

~ there isn't much reason behind bahorel's clothes being similar to feuilly's it was 10pm when i drew him and i got lazy. i don't have much of an issue with how he turned out though

~ grantaire's hair is naturally wavy/curly (somewhere between 2b and 3a? i guess?? looking up hair types didn't help as much as i thought it would. btw it's vv much based off of my own hair lol), but it appears straight in most cases through a mix of him actually straightening it and it just being Greasy. i've drawn it naturally before though !

~ éponine's hair is dyed, naturally it's a lot like the light brown hair gavroche has. oh and the racoon tails are extensions lol

~ speaking of gravroche, while i don't know if it's completely obvious, certain parts of his design (namely the beanie) are based off of what i did for grantaire. he and ep are living with R in this au so i think he looks up to him a ton && really really wants to be like him (albeit in a "10 year old idolizing Some Guy" way) and that's somewhat reflected in his design

~ in an earlier draft of the second part i had a montparnasse design all set up and partially colored before i realized it would've made more sense to add gav lolol... i still have it saved but he's like. a Generic Emo Boy here so i don't feel like i'm confident enough in his design to add him to this post </3

~ oh yeah and i tried adding acne to a lot of the guys (gender neutral) but i don't think it's really noticeable outside of marius -_- i think i'll have to keep studying it to figure out how to draw it better

so yeah ! there's my update to this au, at the moment the fic (which i rewrote shortly after posting the first drawing) is sitting at over 5k words which is like. the most i've written Ever and it's still going strong... it's also taught me that i'm prone to writing scenes that drag and drag </3 thankfully revision helps a ton so hopefully it'll be decent when i finally finish it

[nogenderbee]

Night Ride with Tsukasa

Happy Birthday to my sweet future star!!

You throught I won't write fic for my cuties birthday just because I have a break? Hah, jokes on you!!

TagList: @bleachtheidiot @alicewinterway18 @yulikesminori

Even the future star sometimes can experience burn out, of course he would never say it out loud but you as his lover coule perfectly see it. So with the facts that Tsukasas birthday are coming up, you decided to take him on some relaxing date. You thought of amusement park date at first but then you decided it's not great idea if you want to get him to relax. Then you remembered you recently got yourself a motorbike and it immidietly sounded like a perfect idea for relaxation.

But of course, just a simple ride wouldn't be enough so you wanted to think of something more... and luckily for you, one of your friend were rambling about car cinema (I don't know if that's how you call it-) so of course you decided to give it a try. You went through searching and luckily for you, motorbikes were accepted there too and you also found some nice movie to watch. Of course you didn't told him single word about where you're going, you only told him that you'll pick him up at around 20:00/10pm and he waited for you patiently.

To be honest, it felt like he was just staring out of the window, waiting to see you so he can leave because as soon as you got there, he left with big smile on his face.

"Hello there, my lovely star! I see you're also ready! Mind telling me where we're going tonight?"

"You'll see that later~"

"Ah, so it's a surprise! Well then I already can't wait for it!"

And so, he got onto your motorbike and you happily drew there. Of course, he was rambling and telling all the time, even you were surprised he has so much to talk about but that's what you loved in him after all.

And once your arrived at place you had in mind, saying that he was already happy was too little to describe how he felt. He was absolutely excited for this date! And when he saw movie you choose, his smile was even wider.

"That's one of the movies I had my eyes on for a while now! How did you know?!"

"I have my ways~"

"Ah, you're really incredible, you know that? I still can't believe you went through all that trouble for me!"

"Well today is your special day so I'd be happy to go to the moon and back for you! And while we're at it... Happy Birthday, Tsukasa!"

You could only see how happy those words made him before he planted sweet kiss on your cheek and right after that, the movie started and you enjoyed it while snuggling to each other.

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

[ihavenoideahowtodream]

*slams this on your desks*

@belladonna413 and @mimi-and-the-next-20th-century

*takes long drag off cigarette*

I hope your happy, my wife left me because she said I made better love to this than her.

*takes a swig from my flask*

OCs that I made up at like 10pm last night. No similarities to people living or dead or fictional etc.

CW: violence described, violence to minors implied but not described, war (both my bio parents are American veterans and several grandfathers for many generations are also American vets so I am staunchly anti war and this will reflect that), foul language, Natural disasters

Two speaking characters:

Miri (she/her)

Prinix (they/them)

I don't think there are any other cws to post. Message me if you notice one, and I'll add it.

OCs, forced proximity, forbidden love, slow burn, pining, angst, protectiveness though tending someone's wound (I hope that counts, Mimi)

3k words

 

She could still smell them. The tulips grew in the field where they met all those years ago. She could still feal the earth beneath her toes as she held her matching daggers. A gift from her father on her coming of age celebration. Her father who was now long gone. Killed in that same tulip field 4 years after they met. They stood across from her in that field. They drew their weapons at the same speed as she did. Incredibly, uncertainly slow.

*********

The elevator music paused shortly as it opened with a cheery ding to see the first born of her people’s hundred year enemy's face on the other side. It was impossible to tell them to fuck off as their ruling councils and her father had decided entirely at random to choose peace talks even for a moment as a greater threat had risen from beyond the Western Uncharted. We didn’t know where they came from but it was easy to see they would be unable to squabble amongst themselves if this threat continued to harass both peoples.

The First Born walked on the elevator.

The elevator music became so cheerful she knew she would stab the speaker if she continued to hear only it.

They started at the same time:

“Are you really just called-“

“Isn’t it hard to move-“

“Oh”

“Oh”

“Well since this is a peace talk, it is customary to let the other speak first.” She said cooly.

They scoffed

Then a beat later, “Ya know what, it’s better than the sound of this damned music. Is it hard to move in that uniform? It always looked so complicated.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, I guess it is without practice. We have the folds and pleats practiced before we can choose a name and come of age. I’ve been able to do this since I was 9 but my coming of age wasn’t till I was 15. That’s the traditional age where you can begin the stages of adulthood.”

“You gotta know how to do the drapes and such before you can become an adult?’

“Yeah. We have to show we can clothe ourselves, feed ourselves, and defend ourselves.”

“Sounds ableist.”

“We adapt it to each person. My cousin with one arm was taught a different but equally deadly martial art and can cook a mean chicken soup. She proved she could clothe herself by having such good relationships with her sisters that they could help her with something as personal as draping her clothes for her. Cultivating relationships is an extremely important aspect of coming of age. You don’t think I learned this on my own, did you? I had to be taught.  I was born surrounded by people and I will die mourned by people and the purpose of life is to cultivate those relationships throughout.”

“Hm…” they made an unsatisfied sound that also indicated they didn’t want anymore clarification.

“What were you going to ask me?” They asked glaring at the speaker still wailing more jazzy melodies.

“Does everyone just call you-“ she was interrupted by a sudden jolt.

********

They were 15. They could smell the tulips in the air. The smell of their mother’s grave. Many expected them to take the late queen’s name. They had never considered it for a moment.

They were not their mother and they never will be. Mother would come home after months at siege covered in other people’s and often her own blood. They were about to tell the priest their name and who they would be for the rest of their time in this Great Wood. They wanted merely to serve their people but not to be the same caricature of a monarch as their ancestors before them. They were not a Queen or a King. They were simply a monarch who wanted to protect their people.

Dressed in the garb of the royal family they walked forward to the priest in front of the Council of Oaks.

*********

“What just happened!” the enemy princess cried.

“I don’t know but we’re not moving. And the lights don’t give me much hope either.” The lights had dimmed to emergency lighting. A single bulb to the left of the elevator faded in and out rhythmically.

“This is not good.”

“Yeah, no shit princess.”

“No, not just our situation, this is such a delicate summit. If either of our sides even get a hint that one of us sabotaged the other it will be a massacre”

“Yeah, I know. But why are you so certain either of us didn’t?”

“Because, First Born of The Wood, I know what the Beyonders did to your Village in the Grove. It was barbaric. You need our help or more children will….Well I saw them do the same in the City by The Falls. We have to find some form of solution to get them out of our lands.”

They couldn’t respond to that as they knew about what was now being called The Fallen City so they awkwardly changed the topic. “Are you harmed? You landed on your arm weird.” They reached out instinctively.

“Oh! I am bleeding, aren’t I?”

She held up her arm to the flickering light. The First Born grazed their fingers lightly over her arm before they realized what they were doing and quickly lifted their hand.

The princess laughed. They were both crumpled on the floor of what they were slowly realizing was a lopsided elevator.  The princess with her bleeding arm jutted out and the trembling First Born’s hand hovering over it.

“Sorry, I should have asked first. Before touching you.”

“Why,” the princess giggled (yes giggled), “ you didn’t ask last time” she lifted her sleeve more and not an inch higher than the fresh wound was a deep scar that was long healed.

“Ok that’s fair.”

“Years ago we met in that tulip field and you cut me nearly to the bone and now here we sit and you’re trying to care for my wound just below the old one. Funny old world ain’t it.”

“The old gods have old ways.”

“What?”

“I…um..its just a phrase ya know? Like life does weird shit and you can’t change it kind of idea. It’s from a children’s story. I read it to my nieces last night for bed time.”

“I thought you were the old queen’s only child?”

“I am. But I have many siblings forged in blood and love. Yours isn’t the only culture that relies on relationships.” They said the last sentence quietly though decidedly not accusatoraly.

“What do they call you?”

“What?”

“Your nieces and siblings? They must call you something other than First Born?”

“What? I…they do. But no one has ever asked the name I’ve only given it to them. Other than my parents who gave it to me, of course.”

“Oh, well, in the spirit of peace treaty I suppose I won’t ask then.”

“But you already have, and you cannot take back what you tongue has already done.”

“No, I suppose it can’t. I’ll just not insist then.” She said with a smile.

“Prinix”

“What?”

“It means silly in the Language of the Leaves. Our ecclesiastical language. It’s the term we use when talking about how the leaves dance in the autumn.”

**********************

The tulips didn’t bloom that spring. There was a late rain that drowned them all.

“Father, why? Why did that have to happen?”

“Well, my shooting star. You cannot have everything you want. You enjoy what you have in you hands and let go of a past you can never return to.”

He died at dawn the next morning. Her other father, the royal consort, assumed the throne till she would. She was old enough then that she could have taken the throne with moderate supervision. But she was so distraught by her father’s death that she elected not to. She asked her father every year on Ascension Day to continue his place on the throne till she was ready. The last few years it took more and more convincing. She knew she was scared of the throne and that she could never be either of her fathers. But her father was growing old and wanted rest. Her younger brother had had children several years ago and her father kept telling her he wanted to retire to his duties as a grandfather. Her brother had never shown an interest in ruling even though she had insisted. He had told her many times that she was the most qualified and had the best instincts and knew the people best. She was also the only royal child that had told the parliament in session on record that they could shove their privilege up their asses and managed to cut all their salaries in half to fund a program to assist individuals when their crop fails causing the family to starve. She actually said “Shut the fuck up” to the prime minister in front of the country and all their gods. Two years after the program was instituted their infrastructure was the best it had been in 50 years. She was 19. Her brother insists that he could never do that and that her care for people is what would make her the better ruler. He returned to his university later that week and came back from break with the woman who would become is wife and she has never asked again.

******************

Her father had fallen ill earlier that month and she and her brother were there in his stead but he was deferring all decisions to her and she was so scared she was going to mess it all up.

And now she was stuck in an elevator. Watching her enemy from birth dress her wound.

“It doesn’t look too bad.” They said, gently brushing their calloused fingers over her arm. They had skin decorated in tattoos, but it was quite weathered for someone of only 30 years. She knew she was only a few months older than the First Born, Prinix. They looked like a worker’s hands and not the hands of the highest class in their land.

“Your hands are so rough.”

“Oh sorry,” they dropped her arm quickly, “blacksmithing is unforgiving on your hands.”

“You’re a smith? But you are royalty.”

“Yeah. It’s customary that the ruling class learn a trade both as a way you have an outlet to take out frustrations and so you have a perspective on the commoner’s lives who you are making laws for. It has unfortunately warped into treating people who work for a living as being condescending to them, but I was cared for by a smith for a month as a child when one of your raids took me away from the party I was traveling with. He taught me smithing for that month and it was the happiest I ever was. So, when it came time to learn my trade, I choose an apprenticeship with him much to the disappointment to the entire court because I choose a not aristocrat to teach me. But my father backed me up so no one could say anything.”

“Well, Prinix, I wasn’t saying they were hurting me. I was just surprised by them is all as I have heard reports that you never go into battle so I didn’t know where your hands could have gotten rough.”

“Honestly, Princess-“

“Miri.”

“What?”

“I’m called Miri.”

“I thought you had a long, complicated name that meant Falling Star of Wonder or something”

“Rising Star Of Guidance. And, yeah, that’s my technical name. But I’m still called Miri by many people. It is short for Miracle. They call any child who wasn’t supposed to live to adulthood that.”

“Oh.” There was a pause as they ripped part of their shirt off to use as a bandage for her injured arm. “Well. Miri. I honestly have only ever been in one physical fight.”

“What?”

“Yup.”

“So that time we met in the tulip field….”

“My first and last fight.”

“But. You won.”

“I know. And I hated it. I threw up after that and I couldn’t sleep for a month till I decided I would never fight again. I knew had strong hands and I would use them to heal and create. So, I became a smith and studied healing in my university.”

“I think I’ve gotten into a fist fight every day since that day.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I guess I just felt I needed to prove something. Sometimes it was just war craft practice..."

“No, why are you called miracle? Why weren’t you supposed to live?”

“Oh.” She sat uncomfortably in the elevator staring at the flicking light. She noticed that they had finished bandaging her arm and quickly and awkwardly removed their hands to their lap. Their traditional royal robes in emeralds and golds with intricate embroidery of the royal emblem on their chest cut short halfway down their stomach because that was tied around her arm, the green in a stark contrast to the red and bronze of her pleated robes that had been her grandmother’s when she was younger before her parent started the war against the Woodland a hundred years ago.

“I was born in a flood. It was sudden because the dam broke. My village was in its path. They think my birth parent was already in labor when it broke, and they were carried to the highest building they could find but it wasn’t high enough. I was found in a rafter of a barn on a hill just outside of the village. After months of excavation, they found the bones of 3 people on the floor of the barn and a child who was maybe 9 under where I was in the loft. They think they sent me with the child to the top of the barn in hopes that we would make it and when the child realized they wouldn’t they put me in the highest place they could. The crown prince of my kingdom and his new squire found me a day after the flood during search and rescue and saved me. I wasn’t supposed to live, and they still are not sure how I did. But the prince and his squire sat by my cradle the whole time the healers tended me. They fell in love at my cradle caring for me. When the healers declared I was healthy enough to leave their care, the prince petitioned the king to adopt me, and my grandfather said yes with no hesitation. There are many people with memories of me sitting and playing in the king’s lap as he presided over court in his throne. I was 10 before I found out it was apparently illegal for me to sit on the throne because it was illegal for everyone but the monarch. At my second founding day anniversary my father made his squire the official Prince Consort. My brother joined us a year after that and then my sister 4 years after.”

“So, you are a miracle then.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“I’ve known of you my whole life and we’ve met so many times over the course of the last 15 years and I knew there was something special about you, but I thought it was just your green eyes and ability to dance. Guess you simply can cultivate love and create a family, actually.”

“Huh. I never thought of it that way. Wait why do you know the color of my eyes?”

“Um. I saw them in our fight-“

“That was 15 years ago, dude.”

“Yeah but I. Um. Well.”

“You remember my eyes from that long ago? You STABBED me and you’re telling me you remember the color of my eyes?!”

“They are really pretty, ok?? And the same color as the stream that runs through the Palace gardens. Chill.”

“chi-? I…? no! you think you can say, ‘your eyes were super pretty as I looked into them when I stabbed you when we were kids’ and I’m just supposed to be chill about that?”

Prinix shifted their weight from one position to a different then immediately back to the first. “I dunno, dude. Just forget I said it, ok?” they mumbled dismissively.

“You have pretty eyes too. They are a warm shade of brown.”

“Thank you.” They said with hesitating sincerity.

************

They stood before the Council of Oaks. Their words floated over their head as if in a dream.

“Traditionally its 35 that you would ascend to the throne…”

“The invaders from beyond the west are stronger and more violent….”

“What they did to the children….”

“The People of The Hills have been persistent in their violence but they never extended it to non-combatants….

“First Born, we must act. You must take the throne.”

They spoke after a moment of silence from the Council.

“Extend a message of truce to The People of The Hills. We know The City of the Falls is now called The Fallen City and we know why. They would be in a position for an alliance.”

They stood and made their way to the door to the Council Chambers. “Prepare for my coronation at the next new moon.”

**************

They sat in the elevator staring at the closed door in the flickering light. They could hear the princess, Miri, breathing gently beside them. This was the closest they had been to each other since that fight in the tulip field 15 years ago.

“Why?” came her soft voice, “why haven’t you fought since you beat me in the field?”

“I knew nothing about you. I didn’t even know who you were. I just recognized that you were wearing the colors of the enemy. I fought you because I felt like I had to. When I stabbed you and watched your eyes roll back in your head and the blood rush from your face, well you were beautiful. And I damaged you and I had no idea why. I didn’t know you. Your name, why you wore those colors, why you felt the need to fight me. Because I had no reason to. And I damaged you for a grievance my great grand mother had against someone you only had circumstantial connection to as far as I was aware. We don’t choose who we are born to or who raises us. Your fathers and mothers are not your decision. I had no idea why my mother hated your people, and I knew I wanted nothing to do with it though.

“We saw your people dancing once in a big group dance and I remarked how beautiful the flurries of the crimson and bronze fabrics were as they spun in time with the music. My mother said it was the color of the fires you burn our forests with and the color of our blood you shed. And then she burned the village, and I watched her slit the throat of the mayor of the village and their crimson blood sprayed my face. I met you the next day. And your blood splattered the tulips same as that mayor’s. I decided I would never add to the crimsons and bronze flames and blood of war the way my mother did.”

“You’re a smith though? Don’t you make swords?”

“I mostly shoe horses for people in the Capitol Grove. I’ll make farming tools and plates and cups and utensils. The closest I’ve ever made weapons is repairing and making arrows for hunting.” 

“No weapons ever?”

“My mother died a month before my naming ceremony. My father last spring. My mother was the head general of our armies and my father King of the Woods. We have customs in place so that I will run the Wood in conjunction with the Counsil of Oaks till I take the throne at 35 but with the invasion of Those from Beyond we are breaking custom, and I will become Monarch of The Wood at the next New Moon. I have to have a royal weapon commissioned as my symbol to govern my rule. My father was the sword my mother carried into battle and that she was eventually killed with. His mother’s was a spear. Her parent’s who started the war with your great-grandfather was an axe. Mine will be a shield. I’m tired of war, Miri. I want it to end. My woods are scarred. My people are exhausted. Last year I had a case where a woman was murdered by her own family because they found out her child’s other mother was from your people. I couldn’t convict them. I didn’t know how to tell them their fear was poisoning them. Her mother came to me crying saying that they chose to kill her own daughter because they were scared that if they did not kill her the village would turn on the whole family and she couldn’t bear to watch one child die but it would be worse if all five of her children die and her siblings and her wife’s family too.”

“What happened to the baby?”

“It was kidnapped. Its other mother took it and fled to the south out of both of our lands.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because my personal guard escorted her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m tired, Miri. Why was your birth a miracle, but not this child’s? Why am I allowed to not act on opportunities of violence but so many others cannot? If those from Beyond had not invaded I still would have asked for this summit after my coronation in 5 years.”

“You’ve got more balls than me.”

“I see your eyes every night before I fall asleep. They haunt my dreams. That changes a person.”

Miri laughed, “Are you aware that that is how my people customarily begin marriage proposals?” she gleefully informed the now blushing Prinix.

“I… um… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Um….”

“It’s ok. It took me a few years, but I realized after five years of obsessively researching you and your tasks and who you are after you stabbed me that. Well, I did kinda already know you were a smith and I kinda had a conniption when you addressed the peace envoy to me specifically, whichlikeiknowiscustomcausetechnecallymydadisjustaconsortandimtechnecly-“ she realized that she was speaking so fast she had stopped making sense. “Yeah, I’m kinda obsessed with you and I don’t think it’s for war reasons. So, it’s not the first time I’ve ever thought about you saying those words to me. Oh, my gods, how much blood have I lost that I would say this too you?”

“Well,” Prinix started awkwardly, “Um… I’ll just lie to you and say a lot?”

Miri, realizing that she had not looked at the other person next to her the whole time she’d been speaking and finally found the guts to look.

They sat there in their impromptu crop top and golden tea length skirt. There were vine tattoos covering their arms and legs. She noticed the contrast of who the two of them were and the clothes and colors they had always used to separate them thought they were both about to inherit two countries at war. She finally had the guts to look at their face.

“You’re blushing. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

Prinix leaned forward barely an inch away from her face before hesitating, their brown eyes unwavering from her own. Miri closed the space between them gently. 

The elevator music gently floated through the air.

(Don't worry Belladonna, my wife didn't leave me. I never had one in the first place)

[aspenwritesstuff]

Part One: It’s a Deal

🌹 prev 🌹 masterlist 🌹 next

🌹taglist: open! @drhsthl

I want you there every step of the way. I want to do what you asked for in your bio. I want you to watch our relationship bloom, to see love be true and real in the flesh.

I want to prove you wrong.

🌹warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, borderline cheating/inferred cheating, mentions of sex/sleeping around

🌹w/c: 5.5k

🌹a/n: I finally got around to finishing the first chapter of the story that has overtaken my entire life lately! 😭❣️ 

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you enjoy the introduction to the world of Prove Me Wrong as much as I’ve enjoyed putting the pieces together.

“Give me your phone.”

Your attention lifted from the device that you’d been tapping away at during Jisung’s recollection of the night he’d spent with his latest match, sheepish guilt clouding the depths of your gaze as you gave him your best apologetic smile, “I know I seem distracted, but I’m listening! Promise.”

He sighed, offering an eyeroll that would’ve seemed annoyed had it not gone hand-in-hand with an affectionate smirk. He took a deep breath, pretending to calm down from nonexistent anger before launching back into the details of the outing.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat, resituating himself comfortably on the opposite end of your couch, “He walked me all the way back to my car, even though he had to work in the morning.” 

You bit your tongue, forcing yourself not to let your cynicism show by informing him that it wasn’t all that impressive - and was actually, in fact, the bare minimum his date should do after 10PM. 

“And then, I said he didn’t have to if he needed to get home and rest, guess what this man said to me?” 

You hummed rather than actually asking, knowing based on the animated storytelling and twinkle in his eye that you were going to be told anyway, regardless of your interest. 

“He said he’d be awake worrying about me anyways until I’d gotten home safe!” he’d nearly squealed, kicking his feet against the carpet happily, “It was literally the sweetest fucking thing! I think he may be–” a sharp inhale drew your gaze from the notes app you’d once again been typing into, bringing Jisung’s shocked expression and wide eyes into view.

“Are you taking fucking notes?” 

A scoff tickled your lips before you blatantly lied, “Why would I do that?” Your voice had shifted up half an octave, effectively giving you away as you dismissively waved your hand. 

“Oh my God!” he screeched, laughter bubbling from his lips as he reached for the beer he’d all but abandoned in his rush to spill each and every intricacy of his date, “You totally are!”

You felt the prickle of an embarrassed flush creep from under the collar of your shirt as you mumbled for him to shut up, sipping at your own open drink as you waited for him to stop cackling - which he eventually did, most likely influenced by the sight of your still-reddening face. 

“Writer’s block that bad again?” he finally asked after his composure had returned, genuine worry knitting his brow, before setting his now-empty bottle back into the ring of condensation it had left on the coaster whilst being neglected. 

You nodded with a sigh, lips downturned in dissatisfaction, “It just feels like I’ve written all there is to write, y’know?” 

He shook his head, giving you an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow - a silent effort to earn an explanation. 

“Love isn’t as complex as everyone thinks it is,” you offered, tipping your head back to finish your ale. Setting the empty bottle down, you continued, “There’s only so many ways to tell the same old story.” 

You pointed at your digits as you listed the main steps of love, “Person meets person, they fall in love, then live happily ever after - or, more likely, leave eachother broken and damaged before moving on to the next.” 

Han’s face was easy to read, displaying obvious distaste towards your opinion. He knew better than to try and change your mind by now, though.

“We get it, you think love is dumb,” he’d said instead, sarcastic words laced with a sadness he couldn’t manage to completely mask. 

“But, back to the topic at hand!” He proclaimed, any traces of brief melancholy dissolving as he clapped his hands together.

“It’s that I’m not flattered by the idea of my love life being your muse—“ he stood from his place on the sofa to make his way to the fridge, pulling another bottle from its container, pointing it towards you before interrupting himself to ask, “Another?”

“Sure,” you smiled affectionately as he grabbed a second beer, pushing the fridge door shut with his hip before making his way back.

“Wouldn’t it be more effective to just go on your own dates?” he handed you your drink as he asked, flopping unceremoniously back down into the indent he’d left in his absence.

Only Han could get away with that suggestion, you thought as you instantly withdrew so as not to have to remind him that - for you - that simply wasn’t an option. 

You filled the looming silence with the quiet hiss of your bottle opening, Jisung’s eyes burning holes into the side of your head as you sipped once, twice, and three times. 

You’d be the first to admit he had a valid point. Vicariously pulling inspiration from your best friend’s first date was definitely among the more convoluted ways to retaliate against a tauntingly empty document.

That wasn’t relevant, though. 

It wasn’t because he was wrong that you’d gone mute.

It had somehow already been a year since you and your highschool sweetheart, San, had called off your engagement. You’d dated since senior year, somehow balancing the stress of university with a happy, loving relationship. 

When he’d proposed to you at your joint graduation party - a collective finally coming from your shared group of friends - everyone was overjoyed. You were the couple other couples aspired to be; adoration evident in every glance you’d share, so madly in love that it was palpable.

Until you weren’t.

You’d gotten into one of your rare, heated arguments after attending one of his work parties. You had expressed your distaste for the way his coworker’s hand lingered on his arm, the other twirling an auburn strand around her perfectly manicured finger whilst they exchanged inside jokes about the project they’d been assigned to work on together. You had effectively been made feel like a third wheel despite the diamond glittering proudly on your finger.

He’d said you were acting far too jealous, accusing you of being controlling when you’d tried to point out that he’d done nothing to stop her from being increasingly too touchy with him. 

“This isn’t who I proposed to!” he’d snapped, eyes sending you a dangerous glint you’d not seen before.

“And you’re not who I said yes to,” you’d whispered back through silent tears, watching as he packed his bags violently - snatching the ring from your finger to place it back into it’s little velvet box gently, completely opposite to how he’d shoved it haphazardly into the pocket of his coat immediately after - before slamming the door on his way out.

Only to end up dating his bubbly, beautiful coworker less than a week later. 

Once the initial shock had worn off - finger no longer feeling the phantom weight of a silver band - and you’d become capable of going twenty-four hours without crying, Jisung had insisted you go out and, “live your best life.” 

It probably wasn’t what he meant when you’d immediately tried to distract yourself with other men, prowling the bars for someone sober enough to retain their ability to coherently fuck you without going soft.

And just drunk enough to forget your name afterwards.

That lasted for only a couple of months, though; Jisung’s concern had already been close to stopping you, but it was a sudden realization after a particularly boring one night stand that cemented the end of your promiscuity.

The strangers had somehow made the unoccupied side of the bed San had left behind feel even emptier.

Thus began your earnest but incredibly short attempt at getting back into the dating pool. It was a strange adjustment, saying yes rather than cringing away when someone would ask for a date. It was when you’d called the number the cute Starbucks employee had scrawled on your cup, agreeing to a dinner date, that you’d come to the conclusion that love - for you - was dead.

You’d nearly forgotten how to prepare for a date. After spending arguably too long choosing an outfit that was pretty in a love way - not a sex way - you arrived at the impressive French restaurant he’d scored a reservation at. You’d spent what - to any sane, rational person - was a beautiful evening with an attractive man.

Except, in your heartbreak, you were neither sane nor rational.

He’d offered you a modest bouquet of pink carnations, stunning and lovely. Most would feel their heartstrings be plucked like a harp at the gesture. But, to you, it served only as an unwelcome reminder that you’d still needed to call the florist and cancel your order of that exact bloom for your wedding that would never happen. 

The white wine you’d sipped, though delicious and assumedly expensive, had only reminded you of the glass San would always bring you while you soaked in the tub after a difficult day. 

The nervousness in your date’s eyes that should’ve been endearing failed to even flatter you as flashes of the same expression on San’s face when he’d asked you to prom shot daggers through your heart. 

Despite all of the painful memories, you had let the cute barista kiss you goodnight afterwards. 

It wasn’t a bad kiss - filled with hopeful feelings and the taste of the chocolate dessert you’d shared- his surprisingly soft lips capturing your own in a chivalrous, gentle way.

No, it wasn’t a bad kiss. It wasn’t a bad date. He wasn’t a bad man. 

But yet, after you’d said goodbye and got into a cab, you’d thanked him for the night by blocking his number and googling the address for the next-nearest coffee shop.

You didn’t want another date with him. You didn’t want a date with anybody. 

Of course, being your best and oldest friend, Jisung knew that. 

“It’s been a year, honey,” he gently informed you, not that you’d have forgotten had you tried. His hand fell gently onto your knee, stopping the bouncing motion you hadn’t noticed until it was brought to a stop by his warm palm. 

“I know,” you sighed, placing your hand on top of his in a show of appreciation, rubbing your thumb over his smooth knuckles as you whispered, “but it’s like I said before –”

“Your heart can’t break if you don’t share it with anyone, I know,” Jisung cut you off, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair before exhaling a sigh that could only be described as defeated.

“But not even a meaningless date for inspiration?” he pressed, raising a brow as you chugged over half of your fresh beer, attempting to delay having to answer.

Jisung had yet another perfectly valid point. But, as was typically the case, you also had another perfectly valid reason not to do as he suggested.

It’s not that you hadn’t considered just finding a few dates here and there to serve as a fount of creativity - it was, by all means, the most direct approach to climb out of your slump. 

Maybe before San, or if things had ended differently, you would’ve made attempts to do exactly that by now.

But San had, in fact, happened - and events had, in fact, unfolded as they did.

Now that you knew the hurt of feeling played, the absolute seasickness that wondering why you weren’t enough could cause? You couldn’t find it within yourself to give anyone the opportunity to hope for more - at least not with you.

Not dating was the only way to keep any more hearts from breaking; be it others’ or your own - even if it meant your agent having a fit over the lack of chapters you’d sent to your editor as of late.

“I don’t wanna lead anyone on, Ji,” you admitted, actively trying to escape the tense atmosphere -  the off-putting vibe that only hung over you and Jisung when your love life was the topic - by standing up. 

“Some poor guy’s gonna think we’re gonna get married someday,” obviously forced humor fell from your words as you busied yourself, gathering empty beer bottles from the side tables. 

Your best friend followed as you brought them to the kitchen to rinse out, taking them from your hands one-by-one to place gently in the recycling bin. 

“What if you just…tell the truth?” he suddenly asked after the last of the bottles had been taken care of, making you drop the plush towel you’d been drying off with.

You were absolutely shook by the sheer simplicity of what should’ve been the obvious answer.

“What?”

“Y’know, just be upfront about it,” he reiterated nonchalantly, “Just say, ‘I need to go out for research, don’t expect more of me’ or something.” He opened one of your cabinets - grabbing a bag of pretzels and biting down on one with a casual shrug - though he hadn’t just given you the Holy Grail of solutions.

There had never been a rule that you had to want to fall in love to go out on a date, though that was traditionally the goal. In theory, as long as you could find a willing participant, you could go on dates simply for the experience. 

Admittedly, you felt a little stupid having not thought of it on your own.

“Hey, Ji?” you queried, biting back a smirk at the way his head shot up, cheeks bulging with the snacks he’d been indulging on. He struggled to ask what you’d interpreted to be something along the lines of ‘what’s up,’ finally bringing a breathy laugh to your lips before you asked him to do something you never thought you would.

“Will you help me set up a tinder?”

After his completely understandable surprise had worn off, Jisung was ecstatic to help you set up your account. 

He’d personally selected each photo that appeared on your profile, not-so-subtly choosing only those that he’d snapped himself. He waved you off when you’d called him on it, insisting that it wasn’t his fault you took terrible photos of yourself. 

As you stared down at your own brilliantly smiling face in the picture he insisted appear first - lips painted red, parted mid-laugh with shimmering gold flecks around your eyes, crinkled in jubilation at a joke you could no longer remember the punchline to - you decided that he may just be right.

He’d since handed you the reins, begrudgingly leaving the bio up to you after you’d turned down his many - as he put, brilliant - suggestions. Jisung officially lost the privilege of helping after he’d genuinely offered, “Hot but emotionally unavailable, swipe right to be blue-balled,” as an option, disappointment obvious in the way his shoulders slumped when you’d told him, in these exact words, that it would never fucking happen.

It wasn’t as easy as you thought it’d be. As an author, you knew the importance of an attention-grabbing opening line, so - after several instances of typing, backspacing, and deliberating - you settled on something simple yet compelling:

“Love is dead, prove me wrong.”

Jisung had told you that it was very mid-2000’s emo of you, earning him a playful smack to the arm before you published it to your profile and began swiping.

Ignoring your best friend picking apart every line written by the potential dates, you read each person’s description diligently - treating it less like dating than the experiment it had become - and swiped right only on those who didn’t come across as the type to insist that you simply didn’t believe in love because you hadn’t met them yet. 

That didn’t stop you from receiving your fair share of cringe-worthy messages.

Hey sexy, unmatch, you’re too pretty to be such a cynic, unmatch, it’s so unfair that you don’t actually want a relationship, you sure i can’t change your mind? Unmatch. I don’t believe in love either, wanna bang? Stifle your vomit and un-fucking-match. 

It wasn’t until Jisung had excused himself to return to his apartment - having yawned one-too-many times in the last hour to trust himself with driving home had he stayed any later - that a simple, genuine question popped up from one of your matches. It bad provided you with the long-forgotten feeling of warm hope deep inside your chest. 

The sender?

Lee Felix, a twenty-three year old bartender with an innocent, joyful smile who - according to his profile - might be the answer to your unspoken prayers.

His bio was short and sweet, simply reading, “Hopeless romantic, hopeless at dating. More awkward in person.” 

Seeing the way his eyes sparkled with childlike wonder, you could’ve easily known he loved the idea of love - even without his self-proclamation.

I almost didn’t swipe right, but I just had to ask. Please don’t be offended! but... If love is dead, why are you here? 😅

You forced that unfamiliar warmth down as you typed your reply, knowing that your plan was pretty far fetched - even in today’s dating world. You decided on  keeping it as short and sweet as you possibly could, though Jisung would later tell you that you were a terrible texter;

At least you’re honest. I’m an author, a romance novelist to be exact. Hilarious, I know. The irony isn’t lost on me. I’ve hit a bit of a slump that going on dates could be the remedy for. 

You chewed your lip for a moment before typing out another message, wanting to be as transparent as possible with the man behind the bright-smiled profile picture, only to be surprised by the telltale bubbles of your match responding bouncing in the lower corner of your screen.

So, you know a lot about love then?

This was the first of many questions Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender would ask that surprised you - but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

I know enough to know it’s pointless.

Your retort would later earn you a slightly-too-hard smack from Jisung, directly to the back of your head while he would chastise you for trying to spread your “anti-love agenda.” 

Your match, for as grating a message you’d sent, was either unaffected or politely ignoring the jaded undertones when he immediately answered with an inquiry that you could never have predicted.

If I help you, will you help me, too? Not in a creepy way!!! That sounded weird, sorry.

You laughed aloud at his self-awareness towards the way his message could’ve come across, wondering if he truly was even more awkward in person as his bio stated.

You deliberated this until his next message popped up, sparking your interest with an intensity you’d forgotten you were capable of.

There’s this girl…

He went on to explain that he’d downloaded tinder in a last-ditch effort to forget about the so-called woman of his dreams, a regular at the bar he worked at, who had no idea he existed outside of being the guy who refills her cosmopolitans. He’d tried to talk to her off the clock all of once, taking a twenty-minute detour to get his pre-shift coffee at the café she worked at. 

He’d gone through all of that effort only for her to be completely unaware she’d ever seen him before, asking him for the name she’d seen on his nametag - every weekend for three months, he included with several broken heart emojis - to write on the cup his latte would be poured into.

He hadn’t known how to try since then, still dejected by his experience and more-bitter-than-usual latte. 

So you want me to help you impress this girl?

You aptly summed up the contents of the two paragraphs with a single sentence, laughing aloud at his immediate response.

Yes.

After a two-second pause, he added a please for good measure.

That’s all?

Your hesitance stemmed from just how perfect it all seemed. Despite your eagerness to give Jisung’s offhanded idea a try, there had been a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that - even if you left your feelings completely out of the equation - someone could end up falling for you.

So how exactly had someone who was already enamored with someone else just fallen into your lap?

Almost.

His answer caused your breath to hitch, the ordinary word he sent holding an unusually heavy weight. As you watched the circles at the bottom of the screen do the wave for longer than anticipated, you breathed out a near-silent, “Please don’t be something gross, please…”

I want you there every step of the way. I want to do what you asked for in your bio. I want you to watch our relationship bloom, to see love be true and real in the flesh.

I want to prove you wrong.

Now, that was a first. Not the desire to show you that love was real, there had definitely been a fair amount of men who’d claimed they could prove you wrong - your experience on tinder tonight only serving as an unfortunate reminder of the cockiness with which a man would proclaim they could alter your entire perspective, claiming you’d feel differently if they would’ve been the one to love you.

But never once had one of them wanted to prove you wrong via falling in love with someone else before your very eyes.

Making a decision you weren’t sure whether or not you’d regret, you quickly sent your own completely average single word answer with the same above-average connotation.

Deal.

“Did you pack your pepper spray?” Jisung called from the living room as you swiped a thin layer of mascara onto your lashes, catching your own eye roll in the bathroom mirror before you justified his wild comment with a verbal response.

He’d been near-unbearable with his insistence on self-defense ever since you’d told him you were going to meet with Felix today, figuring it would be easier to discuss details of your unconventional deal face-to-face.

Felix had initially suggested you come into the bar while he was working, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable by simply inviting you over. He’d quickly backtracked, though, when you’d reminded him that the subject of his affections could appear - potentially overhearing the conversation, effectively revealing his debilitating crush. 

Felix practically jumped at a new suggestion in his eagerness to move past the near-foiling of your not-yet-enacted plan.

“We’re meeting at the food court, what’s he gonna do?” You paused to swipe a clear gloss over your lips, smacking them together with an audible pop before finishing the thought, “Stab me in front of Taco Bell?”

Walking into the bathroom and setting the aforementioned canister of pepper spray into your purse, Jisung placed a hand on your shoulder and solemnly spoke, eyes meeting yours in the mirror, “I was thinking Panera,” he shrugged, unbothered as you stared at his reflection with a gaping jaw.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he warned, brows raising as he sincerely continued - still ignoring the indignation written on your face, “Author found dead in front of t-bell? That doesn’t give enough headline energy and you know it.” 

The way your eyes narrowed must have finally gotten to him, seeing as he quickly tacked on a compliment, “You’re too classy for that.”

You huffed, grabbing your purse now that you were content with the state of your face. Sure, there were no romantic intentions behind this meeting - but you still liked to feel pretty. 

“No one is getting stabbed!”

“Correct!” Jisung grinned, “Because you’re taking the pepper spray!” He nodded in satisfaction before placing a quick peck to your cheek, skipping back to the living room. He narrowly avoided the kick you’d aimed for his arse as you followed him, coming to a stop at the welcome mat before voicing a sarcastic complaint. 

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” you’d grumbled, slipping your feet into your favorite worn pair of black boots and zipping the sides.

“And, yet, you keep me around,” his voice held a smug air of pride as he slid his own shoes onto his feet, opening your front door for you as he always did when the two of you left at the same time.

“Only because your warranty ran out,” you winked, slipping out the door and watching Jisung diligently lock it behind him with the spare key you’d given him years ago. 

“Don’t lie, you just lost the receipt,” he laughed, hooking his key back onto his keyring before serving you a rare, serious look.

“Real talk, though,” he began, running his fingers through his hair nervously, a habit he typically engaged in when he felt anxious, “Be safe.”

“I’ll be fine, Ji,” you assured, falling into stride next to him as you walked towards the parking garage, “Promise.”

Content with your vow, he offered a gentle smile before branching off, walking towards his own vehicle as you climbed into the front seat of your own. 

You waited to watch him leave, waiting until he turned the corner to put the key in the ignition. You shushed your old Nissan as a parent would their whining child, breathing a sigh of relief as it reluctantly sputtered to life. 

Jisung had often criticized you for still driving the weathered four-door when you could easily afford something better, but it was easy to ignore his complaints. Loyalty to the first car you’d ever bought had always just made sense to you, even if it resulted in being the butt of a few jokes. 

Your car - dubbed ‘Georgia’ by a shitfaced Jisung after you’d rescued him from a party he’d been forced to attend - was reliable, despite the rust creeping into the sun-faded maroon paint. You’d reasoned that she’d taken care of you, so why shouldn’t you do the same?

Jisung disagreed, claiming that you were just replacing romantic love with misplaced affection towards Georgia. 

The journey to the mall was uneventful, filled only with your own voice singing along softly to the near-mute radio until you’d clumsily parked in an empty space a respectable distance away from the main entrance. You cursed yourself silently, remembering the long-forgotten pair of sunglasses on your bathroom counter as the late summer sun brought your eyes to an uncomfortable squint as you walked quickly to the doors. 

Once the shade of the looming building provided a much-needed respite from the brightness of the sky, you whipped out your phone and shot a quick message to Felix, only to see that he’d beaten you to it.

Hey, I’m here! I know I’m a little early 😅 I got us a table, so take your time! no rush. 

You exhaled your amusement, wondering how he’d managed to make informing you of his arrival into such an awkward affair, typing a quick ‘here’ in response as you crossed the threshold into the sensory nightmare that was Twin Peaks Mall.

You were immediately assaulted by the discordant, overlapping chatter of the mall-goers and the mixed scents of the several food chains present. Your eyes scanned the dining area for the man you’d only seen in photographs, stopping for a moment on each head of blonde before realizing none of them were attached to the freckled face you’d memorized before leaving home.

Your name being called from the midst of the throng straightened your posture, head whipping around as you looked for the source. You audibly snorted as you spotted him standing atop a chair, arms drowning in the sleeves of a soft, pink hoodie as they waved above his head. He beamed proudly as your eyes met his, the corners of your own lips involuntarily lifting to mimic his contagious joy. 

Your eyes stayed trained on his mop of flaxen waves as you made your way through the crowd, uttering inevitable apologies to those you bumped into. You held back a laugh as Felix clumsily brought himself back down to the ground, lips downturned in both fear and concentration as he squatted on the wobbling chair. 

Every second you’d spent near Felix thus far had made Jisung’s paranoia seem more and more unfounded.

You watched as he inhaled deeply before jumping safely down to the tile below, noticeably exhaling his relief. With arms outstretched on either side of him and an expression of sheer focus, his demeanor was more comparable to that of a gymnast who’d landed an important stunt rather than a man who’d leapt from a seat. 

Furrowed brows were exchanged for a brief, triumphant smile as he glanced up to see you approaching. Rising to his feet, Felix stumbled in his haste to rise before your arrival. 

“You do acrobatics for all of your dates?” you teased as soon as you were in earshot, tittering good-spiritedly at the way his cheeks flushed pink. Despite his embarrassment, the gentle-mannered man before you still offered his palm.

“Only on Tuesdays!” he chuckled, grasping your hand gently before giving it a quick shake. As he let go, he gestured towards the table and smiled warmly.

“It’s Saturday,” you corrected, taking the seat opposite the chair Felix had used as a stool to garner your attention.

A chuckle resonated from Felix’s throat as he reclaimed his seat - properly, this time.

“I was trying to be funny,” he informed you lightheartedly, corners of his lips still pulled into a ghost of a smile as you settled into a brief, comfortable silence. After plugging your meal choices into the food court’s provided tablet, the screen flashed to a timer. Ten minutes flipped to nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds in a fanciful font you’d come to find comically charming - especially after Jisung had claimed they were ‘yass-ifying’ fried chicken by using such elegant-looking numbers.

You’d had soda spew from your nose that day.

“So,” Felix began, pulling you from your reminiscing. You glanced towards him, watching as he fidgeted in his chair, attention focused on his worn sleeve. He twisted a loose thread between his index finger and thumb as he sheepishly admitted, “I’m not really sure how we do this,” a nervous laugh escaping his full lips as nothing more than a breath.

His admission brought you pause, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks; 

You had no fucking idea. There was no manual for your extraordinary circumstances that the two of you could simply follow for the best results. Hoping that Felix wouldn’t think you incompetent, you finally shrugged and spoke honestly.

“I don’t have the slightest clue, to tell you the truth.” 

His brows shot up as his lips parted, inhaling sharply before laughing aloud. Melodic bursts of joy poured from deep within his chest, infecting you in mere moments as you subconsciously joined him, carefree giggles meeting with his own rich, genuine laughter in perfect harmony.

As your giddy uproar dwindled, he timidly pulled a notebook from his backpack. You didn’t ask, but he’d informed you that he’d purchased this brand new one just for your meeting today. You’d thought about teasing him over it, but the expectant gleam in his gaze stopped you in your tracks. You couldn’t bring yourself to dim the light he effortlessly radiated, brightness only increasing as he proudly handed you an unopened package of glittering gel pens - in thirty different shades.

It was in that notebook and in those sparkly pens that you’d come up with the conditions of your deal, Felix even writing out a mock-contract, face dead serious as he signed his name in vibrant magenta. 

You’d fought the urge to pick on him once again as the corners of your lips turned upwards, the little heart he’d put above the ‘i’ in his name proving to be the most challenging thing to resist poking a bit of fun at. 

You read over the bullet points he’d jotted down - ideas from you both, written in sequential colors of the rainbow providing a very rudimentary set of guidelines:

Felix will take you on a date each Friday. (unless either party has prior obligations, in which case rescheduling will take place.)

You will help Felix get closer with Ryujin each Saturday. (This could be in a variety of ways, via lessons or actively coaching him through interactions. The same rescheduling clause applies here.)

Expenses will be split evenly for each outing, regardless of the recipient.

Physical contact is to be limited to things friends would do with each other.

Either party can; suggest a break, ask for changes to the contract, or terminate the agreement at any time.

The completion of both parties’ goals (finishing the novel/dating Ryujin) marks the end of this deal.

If Felix successfully convinces you that love isn’t dead, you will admit that he proved you wrong.

When you’d signed your name in the same shimmering fuschia your counterpart had minutes ago, you were blissfully ignorant to the irrevocable way Lee Felix, twenty-three year old bartender would change your life - catastrophically, miraculously - forever.

[raveyardantics]

Cynophobia

Summary: Dogs have a long and complicated relationship with death in mythologies all around the world, and even though he doesn’t get a lot of moments in the series, Damon Gray -coincidentally- also has a complicated relationship with death and dogs..

Character(s): Damon Gray, OC(s)

Content Warning(s): Horror, gore, body horror, graphic animal death, torture, possession/exorcism

Word Count: 4,850

“There is a flame that I've been fanning, there is a fire waiting to catch

There is a Hell that has been building from the moment we first met

If there ever was a time, if there ever was a chance

To undo the things I've done and wash these bloodstains from my hands

It has passed and been forgotten, these are the paths that we must take

Cause you and I, Tom, we are men, and we can bend and we can break”

                           -The Hounds, The Protomen. Act II: The Father Of Death

The sound of a dog barking near his ear and the sensation of fur covering his whole body made Damon Gray shoot awake and instinctively reach for the gun he’d begun keeping in his desk. 

Disoriented from sleep, his scrambling hands found nothing but the lamp beside the couch where he had fallen asleep, knocking it to the ground and causing him to fully compose himself as his mind caught up with his body. He wasn’t in his bedroom, he was in their tiny apartment’s living room. There wasn’t a dog, there was a movie playing on the TV that he claimed to be watching as he ‘rested his eyes.’ And lastly, he wasn’t covered in fur, but rather a blanket that Valerie had no doubt tossed over him when she came home from work and found him sleeping. He smiled to himself at what a paranoid old man he’d turned into since becoming a father so many years ago.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Damon made his way down the hall to the bathroom to wash off his face. The dog on the tv was aggressively barking now, and even though he’d turned it down before getting up, the sound was enough to flash him back to the incident at Axion that had nearly cost him everything. He had never exactly been a fan of dogs -in fact he had always preferred cats- but he had also never been able to hate them either. In fact, when he learned about the Mastiff Protocol at Axion Labs, he’d been thoroughly impressed by how well trained the “volunteers” (the corporate word for the dogs they had been preparing to use as security) had been. He knew that the breed was highly intelligent with an excellent memory and even better guardian senses and he had to respect the work ethic of any creature that determined… but he also had to acknowledge how superior his security system was. 

.Was.

He stressed the last word in his mind as he sighed and finished cleaning his face. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise,he couldn’t help but blame himself for the Green Hound incident.  Of course, he hadn’t known what they would do with all those dogs after agreeing to use his system, let alone that one would ignore the old adage of ‘letting sleeping dogs lie’ and instead start tearing up the lab in what seemed to be some act of revenge, but maybe it their (or rather his) security was a bit better they could have cut down on the damage and he’d still have a much better job. Maybe then his daughter wouldn’t be spending her school nights giving herself gray hairs chasing ghosts and he wouldn’t feel himself flinch every time a dog barked too loudly in his direction.

Speaking of, he thought, suddenly aware of the relative silence of the apartment, Valerie’s way too quiet tonight…

Damon loved his daughter, really he did, but that girl could snore in a way that gave a sawmill noise envy, and the fact the he didn’t currently hear her cutting logs drew his attention. They had an agreement that she’d always be back in the house by 10pm on a school night and a quick look at his watch told him it was too late in the evening for the silence of an empty room. Rounding the corner to her room, he listened at the door for a bit for the miraculous sound of a normalized sleep volume, but instead he heard nothing. Well, nothing would be an understatement; Damon Gray heard the absolute sound of emptiness on the other side of the door.

Knocking twice on the door, he whispered her name.

“Val? Sweetie?”

Silence greeted him. A door cold to the touch.

“Valerie…” he called again, this time louder and slightly concerned.

There was a response this time, the sound of tiny claws scraping against the door. Damon recognized the sound from a trip to his grandmother’s house in Florida years ago, it was the sound of a dog excitedly scratching at the other side of the door. Desperately flipping the mental switch away from fear, his mind went back to rational parent mode and the scratching became more excited at his presence. As disappointed as he was that his daughter was apparently breaking curfew again, he was entirely too tired to deal with a smuggled animal ruining the security deposit. “Not the worst thing your teenage daughter could bring home, old man,” he told himself as he grabbed the doorknob, “count your…”

The door opened inward into an ice cold abyss. In front of him there was only the top of a glowing white stone staircase and, as far as he could see in any other direction, there was simply darkness. He moved to close the door as an immediate reaction to the sight, his mind shutting down and opting to reset the scenario. However, halfway through the motion a voice cut in to his mind.

But then where’s your daughter, Damon?

It was a rough and scratchy thought, a mocking thought that rested in his mind despite the voice that had put it there not belonging to him in any sense. 

His angered grip tightened on the doorknob to the point of almost causing him pain, and as he grabbed a few deep, panicked breaths, he stepped silently into the blinding darkness, the phantom scratching at the door transforming into a wood splintering fervor the second he released his hold on the anchor to the outside world

----------------------------------------------------

The staircase into nothing was held up by nothing and was seemingly eternal. He almost wasn’t thinking straight as he made his way down; turning around was out of the equation (even if he’d wanted to, the one time he had looked behind him whatever entrance or exit to the path had existed was replaced with more stairs curling up into more darkness) and there were a few moments when he considered just rushing into the darkness just to get to the bottom so he could throttle whatever was at the end of this haunted path. He couldn’t bring himself to sprint forward though, the thought of the path ending abruptly and him falling into the nothingness forever kept him from making any careless moves.

He wasn’t sure how far down he’d traveled before he reached some sort of bottom, but given how strong the damp smell of mildew and age had gotten for him he was sure he was approaching some sort of end. As if on queue, the steps ended and he found himself deep enough in what he chose to believe was warm water that the bottom of his feet were submerged. Suddenly, a light appeared from the north of his position, pale red illuminating everything around him and giving him a definite direction to move in as he heard something splashing around behind him in the darkness

The water was foamy and churned, and as he skimmed towards the light he couldn’t help but think of the beach in the summer. It was a delusional thought for sure, Damon knew it, but he needed the familiarity to keep himself sane moving forward and not a sobbing mess scared out of his mind. There was no sunlight in this place, but there was a light to guide him.. There was no ocean breeze but there were waves lapping at his ankles.

There are no sharks in this place but there are things with teeth and hunger all the same…

The voice in his head was louder this time. Closer.

The world shook at this realization, and whatever imagined path in the darkness Damon was standing on sunk for a bit, submerging him before being bobbed back to the surface. He gasped for air as he resurfaced, scrambling in the churning fluid for stability and desperately wiping his eyes clear to avoid being robbed of any other senses in this place. When he finally got his vision back fully,  he noticed that the environment had changed once again. Whatever floated through this space with him had risen up to his knees now, his feet completely lost to him beneath roiling foam. He was walled in by what seemed like cages on both sides now, but rather than the polish of smooth steel, the bars he saw around the pool that was once an ocean were all roughly hewn from one continuous block of ancient yellowed stone. The red light from before was now directly over him, and even though he still found no source for it, he chose to believe he had made some kind of positive progress.

Curiosity got the better of him however, and as the paralyzing thought that he was actually the one in the cage started bubbling in his mind, he made his way across the flooded path towards the wall on his left. At first he saw nothing on the other side of the bars, just more of the same darkness he had wandered down stretching ad infinitum, but as he opened his mouth to call out, two burning yellow lights manifested from the blackness. 

Instinctively, he jumped back just as the sound of paws scrambling across stone filled the room. Some were farther away than others, but the one that he had just peered into wasted no time filling with the massive visage of a ragged and decaying dog. Its eyes were lanterns against a midnight sky, circles of pure gold set against the green fur lining most of its body. The creature snarled at Damon, baring its teeth against the bars before going into a barking frenzy and bashing its skull against the solid brick separating them. It was unrelenting in its attempts to get out, and as the sound of bones breaking against stone intermixed with the feverish barking, Damon could only watch in horror as the creature’s head split open from the central impact, its eye bulging out from a freshly shattered skull and teeth bending against each other before breaking loose of the jaw and dribbling down the wall. Blood, thick and black against the red lighting, pooled in the cage before overflowing into the flotsam, bone fragments and brain matter carried out towards him on a wave as the beast continued thrashing against the prison.

Now he ran. The corridor went on endlessly in either direction, and even though he no longer had a sense of direction, he no longer cared. Damon ran straight in the direction he was facing and he prayed that there would be an end to this. Every cage he ran past, the creatures seemed to get more and more intense in their desire to be free. Teeth breaking against stone, reabsorbed and healed into the shattered jaws of monsters only to fly out again in a mist of blood and tissue. Fur coming off in slick sheets from full body charges against something archaic and unbreakable, bones that wished they could say the same snapping against the impact before mending themselves back into gouged flesh.

Maybe they were telling him he was going the wrong direction. Maybe this was all some cold pizza and guilt inspired nightmare to teach him a lesson. Maybe he didn’t fucking care. Damon ran… until the sound of breaking stone behind him crumbling into the building river of viscera finally caused him to look back.

What he saw was massive, just looking at it almost caused Damon to drop to his knees as a sense of hopelessness washed over him. It was easily the size of a passenger plane, a body of pure cosmic black that rippled with muscles and purpose, the pool barely soaking the base of its massive paws as it trudged into the room and stared him down amidst the cacophony of violence that still played all around them. However, the creature almost looked bored watching him frozen in terror, or rather it would have if there was only one head to be bored of him. In addition to the eyes that watched him, Damon noticed an additional head on either side of the creature's central one, each one resembling some combination of wolf and, ironically enough, a mastiff. Something writhed in the spaces between the creatures’ ears, barely visible in the dim light if not for the reflection from the snake’s scales. The auxiliary heads growled at the walls as it moved towards him, each step sending a tidal wave of gore in every direction and quieting the prisoners as they retreated back into the nothing that they’d sprung from with whimpers of defeat. 

The dog had not barked since it arrived, and now that it had quieted the hell-raising around them, it looked content to temporarily puzzle over Damon’s existence in this space. Each head tilted to the left in confusion, and as he slowly stepped back, he watched its ears perk up, alert but not making any direct move against him as the others had. After watching each other in silence for a bit, the dog decided to take the lead, throwing his massive body across the path and blocking the direction he had just run from. It laid all three heads on its paws and proceeded to ignore Damon with a huff of further boredom, the ripples churning the waters again even across the parking lot of distance between them still.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Turning to go once again, he shuddered as the pale eyes from the cages watched him with burning hatred. Something shimmering in the ‘water’ caught his eye before moving on though, and as the creature behind him howled loud enough to shake the planet, Damon Gray picked up the Axion Lab dog collar and ran harder than he ever had in his life

He ran until the minutes became days, ignoring the rising sensation of the slurry that now reached to almost his waist as deafening fear drove him through the darkness. By the time he stopped, the eyes on either side had fully retreated back into their stone prisons, leaving him alone in the quiet again under the hazy red light. He had started calling out Valerie’s name again once he was sure he was alone, convinced that finding her was the key to finding the way out. 

Of course, he thought, heartache dragging him down as he moved forward, that’s assuming she’s actually even here.

As if responding to his thoughts again, something else splashed in the nearby darkness, something large, snapping his concern from the internal to the external again. 

“Val?” He called, taking a tentative step forward. “Val is… is that you?”

Burning hope and icy fear clashed in his heart as he called out again to the noise.

“Valerie!” He yelled, the steam of uncertainty driving him forward as another unseen splash sent waves in his direction. “Valerie, can you hear me?!”  

He was terrified of an answer. If It was her, then they’d be together and maybe they could figure this place out. Maybe. But if they couldn’t? If the sea just stretched forever and this was some cruel glitch in reality, well… the idea of dragging his daughter through a directionless void forever was worse than anything he’d been through. Honestly, his mind was racing so quickly in the direction of the noise being his daughter, he almost didn’t consider the alternative.

Almost.

“Va-”

A flash of teeth appeared in Damon’s mind, biting into the name and dragging it away into the muck. He stumbled in his motions, kicking up his own wave from the infinite pool and splashing it against the nearest wall. He couldn’t afford to fall again, couldn’t bear to see what happened when the ‘water’ got too high against him and the horrible things he imagined below the non-surface moving their way upward. 

As he prepared to creep forward, now trying to be more cautious despite all his previous thrashing, a geyser erupted directly in front of him, throwing foam and debris against the cages and completely soaking Damon again. Luckily for him, he had thrown his arm across his face this time, shielding his eyes and mouth from the ocean spray. His dripping body was the only sound now, and the water around him had gone completely still, only disturbing where the drops from him hit the surface.

He could also feel someone else there with him now.

He didn’t bother calling out to his daughter again, he knew that whatever had calmed the waves was too cold of a presence to be anything living. It reminded him of the lab incident, it reminded him of being in the Fentons’ basement, it reminded him of being the last one in the cemetery after his father’s funeral; it was the feeling of death walking. And walk it did. Damon heard each movement as it closed the distance between them, a casual stride through the flood to reach him. He didn’t run. He couldn’t run. It felt as though gravity had magnified a thousand times and glued him to the spot where he stood, a primal fear that recognized that hunters responded more aggressively to sudden movements.

Hot breath coated the back of his neck, a primal warning from a thing that didn’t breathe and didn’t care. Damon wanted to close his eyes and swing on it, if he couldn’t flee, he wanted to fight so badly, to fill the silence with something other than the judgmental huffing of something that reeked like ancient tombs. Fear and anger made him tear up, violently shaking in the stilled waters as the image of his daughter flashed in his mind again. Suddenly, the feeling moved from behind him, and as Damon looked up for the first  time he saw the creature was now directly in front of him, red eyes peering down and cutting through the darkness like wet clay.

It was massive, easily over seven feet tall, with the head of a large or white wolf sitting atop the body of a lean and athletic man whose skin was the same color as Damon’s. They wore a white and gold longskirt and on their right hip they carried a massive mace. It raised a hand to his chin, lifting Damon’s eyes to meet their own as their ears perked up and their nostrils flared, and while the hand was human in shape, its nails were rough and jagged claws.

TO ME UNHAND THE STONE ANCHORED TO YOUR SOUL. FROM ME SEEK PASSAGE.

He heard a voice in his head again, different this time, and as he was about to ask what they meant, the creature jabbed its free hand into Damon’s chest and squeezed. Shock ran through his body, and the horror of the situation demanded his attention enough that Damon’s eyes shot down the fresh wound, expecting a splatter of blood and pulp to be running down his chest. To his surprise though, what he saw was somehow even worse; hands, not his own but coming from him nonetheless, had grabbed onto the stranger's wrist where he had been punctured.

He did scream this time, and as the silence was disturbed, the wolf-headed creature slowly withdrew their hand from Damon’s chest, pulling more and more of an alternate body out as he retreated. It didn’t hurt him in a physical sense, but the more the others struggled against each other the more Damon flashed in and out of memory, his mind struggling under the weight of whatever was happening.

There had been an accident. A man was dead and the lab was giving him the day off.

The sea had started to recede from him, which is lucky considering he would have fallen to his knees screaming anyway from the pressure inside his head.

A secret folder. Layouts to a model of his security system that was supposedly not in use anymore. Termination order.

The phantom was fighting back, trying to push its way back inside of his chest despite the claws shredding whatever soulself had been stitched together in its new home.

Termination order. Stolen funds. Termination order. Poisoned bags of dog food. Termination order. A speeding car blowing through a red light. TERMINATION ORDER.

With one final pull and one final scream in the darkness, Damon watched as a pale husk was separated from his soul, the new body thrashing in the water as the wolf-headed figure offered him a hand up from the shallows. The last memory burned away as he accepted the help, standing in the ocean again with only the bottom of his feet submerged. 

A Black Dog on a highway, smiling with human teeth. A speeding car unable to stop at a red light. A sudden weight in his chest. A hazy face in the mirror that wasn’t his. A man was dead and the lab was giving everyone the day off. 

“....T-Tom?” Damon asked, looking into the eyes of a dead man once again, “Tom Callumson?”

The figure stopped trashing and laser focused on Damon, completely ignoring the clawed arbiter that stood between them. Tom Callumson had been the man in charge of Axion Labs security, he had hired Damon and when he had been fired the first time they said that Tom was the one who agreed to let him come back in any capacity. Tom Callumson had also died earlier that day, a car crash after running a red light and meeting the grill of a freight truck with the driver’s side of his Camaro. Tom Callumson had also also been reported to have been mumbling to himself over the past two weeks about how ‘they’ were out to get him, which had begun to worry the company about competition stealing their designs…before Tom began complaining about hearing…

“Scratching at the door…” Damon whispered to himself.

“Gray? GRAY?!” Tom yelled, a wild look of fury in his eyes. “It should have been you, Gray! You uppity fucking prick! Over some rank fucking dogs?! SOME FUCKING DOGS?!”

His eyes darted around the room in paranoia, but whatever Tom was seeing now Damon was completely blind to it. He wouldn’t have cared anyway, his mind was too busy connecting the threads from their jumbled up set of memories, piecing together a timeline that made sense for him. The termination orders, they’d been signed right before Damon even had his interview, but the names… Curie, Turing, Tesla, Kirby, Redi, Lovelace… he recognized them as the ‘volunteers’ that Axion had gotten rid of as security due to poor performance. That would explain why they were so eager to get rid of him after the Green Hound incident, he was just the fall guy, those poor dogs never had a chance but he was the sucker who, unfortunately, gave them an excuse.

He had also been covering up some less than spectacular security failures in his free time too, taking bribes from other companies to look the other way as some equipment had been messed with before major testing could be done. In fact Damon was remembering right, Tom may have cost a few scientists more than their pound of flesh when things had gone wrong.

All Damon could do was look at him in disgust. Death had stolen his body but it seems his rotten spirit was just as determined to break the rules, staying behind like so many others in the last few years to make things miserable. Fishing the Axion collar he’d gotten earlier out of his pocket, he rolled it between his fingers, the silver of the pendant a perfect match for fading light of the broken soul glaring at him while pinned standing to infinite nothingness.

“Somehow, Tom,” he said, flipping the tag over to see his hitchhiker's name etched into the stained metal in the dim red light, “I think the dogs are the least of your worries now.”

The wolf-headed creature had been standing beside Tom this whole time, and with a nod he reached out his hand for Damon to place the collar. Relieved to be rid of it, he tentatively dropped it into the beast’s palm, flinching a bit as Tom made another attempt to lunge at him with hatred in his eyes unbound to humanity.

The attempt was short lived however, and as the wolf-headed man wrenched Tom’s head back into his grasp and jammed the silver medallion of the collar into his mouth, Tom began to scream. The noise cut through the darkness like an explosion, bringing back a collection of barking and howling from the cages as eyes lit up observant and hungry on the other side of the darkness. Liquid silver began running out of the corner of Tom’s eyes like tears, and Damon noticed that the water had started boiling underneath him, the sea churning  into a mass of whip-like tentacles each lined with cynodonts that had seemingly leaked through their confinement for the sake of furthering punishment. He took a step back and closed his eyes as the mouths began ripping chunks out of his former coworker, each bite stripping away spectral flesh. The falling silver began to harden into chain-links still connected to his eyes, and as Tom tried to choke out defiant screams, something under the surface began pulling at either side of the chain, slowly dragging him deeper into the nothingness as the sound of ripping and tearing increased in ferocity. Damon didn't want to see what was happening to him, but as the sounds of muffled screams slowly trailed into rattling metal, he couldn't help but spare one final look. Tom was waist deep in the infinite by the time Damon managed the strength to open his eyes, silver chains being pulled from his eyes and mouth where the obol had disintegrated and started overflowing. His skin was tiger-striped with gashes, and where there was once what could be called flesh, there was now matted and disgusting fur, the scabbed lines where they met oozing a vibrant green in the darkness. 

Damon wanted to reach out to him, he wanted to make it stop even if for the selfish reason that the longer he watched the sicker he felt, but as he moved forward, the wolf-headed creature rounded on him, putting themself squarely between Damon and a steadily sinking shade of Tom.

He hesitated, waiting for the creature to make a move or even speak. “Is…is my…”

SHE IS WHERE YOU SHOULD BE DAMON GRAY. NOW BEGONE FROM HERE, THIS IS NO HOME FOR INNOCENCE.

Once again not waiting for him to respond, the creature shot his hand out with impossible speed and jammed the tip of his pointer finger into the space between Damon’s eyes. The world collapsed into true darkness as his eyes rolled back into his head, and he stumbled for a moment before he began to fall backwards Expecting to feel the warm sensation of water on his back at any moment, he braced himself for the soft impact of waves, only to instead feel the hard crush of drywall against the back of his head. His eyes shot open on impact, the blurry shapes in the darkness across from him no longer the hulking visage of a monster but instead forming into the door to his daughter’s room once again.

Senses flooded back into him; the mildew smell was released into the artificial citrus scent of the air fresheners around the house, the static quiet replaced with soft snoring bleeding through the hallway, pale light at the end coming from the tv where the dog was no longer barking for its owners attention. He was home… but he had to be sure. For the second time tonight, he grabbed the doorknob to Valerie’s room with fearful intensity, opening it slowly,  but this time rather than the yawning silence of a void, Damon was met with a wall of sound, his daughter passed out at an impossible angle that would have destroyed his back if he ever tried to recreate it. Despite everything he’d been through tonight and the near airplane level decibels, he smiled at the small victory

Well, this should be a home for innocence, he thought to himself, the burning eyes of a wolf-headed man still engraved in his mind. With a sigh somewhere between He closed her room door and made his way back to the living room where his laptop was, flopping on the couch as the credits rolled on what he was supposedly watching. He knew he wasn’t going to be sleeping for a while, he knew that there’d probably be a long while before he could comfortably close his eyes and not have to hold his breath at the slightest chance of eyes glaring back at him in the darkness, hungry and resentful, but for now at least… he could start searching for a new job.

 —-----------------

Hello everyone, thanks for reading. I haven’t done a strictly horror piece in a while but I wanted to pull something  from my drafts and I figured I’d start the year with something a little more off the wall. I’m a big fan of horror in short story format and especially with a show like Danny Phantom I feel like if you look  beyond the action angle that they typically take with the children and think about the adults who aren’t strictly dedicated to fighting the supernatural there’s a lot of potential to explore the darker elements, hope you enjoyed, and remember: No corporation is your friend and they’d all just as soon drag you into hell as they would flip a light switch.

[lilgraceandi]

Eventful Chinese New Year 🧧

On the first day evening, we drove up to Melaka, had potluck with the family and drove back to muar on the second day afternoon, it being a Sunday and we had duty in church. Grace happily stayed back in Melaka to spend more time with Ah Yee, Porpor and her cousins.

On the third day morning, we drove up again to Melaka, picked gracefully, Ah Yee and Porpor up, then headed to Semenyih. After a simple ceremony at Grandpa and Pa’s graves, we stayed the night at Ah Chim’s place in SS14. Ah Jek took us on a long walk to see a small but beautiful garden in their neighbourhood.

The next day, we visited Gideon, Evelyn and baby Giovanni before we met Jiu Jiu and relatives at Secret Recipe nearby. After lunch, we drove to his house to chit chat further. At about 3pm, we drove home, though at first ma wanted to visit David’s place.

The moment we reached and parked the car at Novo8, Leslie realised he had left his laptop in Jiu Jiu’s house! We were filled with disbelief! We didn’t want to drive back up, what with the traffic jam and our exhaustion.

So the next day at 5.30am, Leslie and I took the bus up to TBS (my first time). We then took the MRT/LRT to Jiu Jiu’s place, then managed to reach Melaka at 3pm. Then we visited Julie. Grace didn’t follow though because she wanted to watch TV with Ah Yee.

We spent one more night in Melaka and drove back to muar on Thursday morning. Phew!

On the first day evening, we drove up to Melaka, had potluck with the family and drove back to muar on the second day afternoon, it being a Sunday and we had duty in church. Grace happily stayed back in Melaka to spend more time with Ah Yee, Porpor and her cousins.

On the third day morning, we drove up again to Melaka, picked gracefully, Ah Yee and Porpor up, then headed to Semenyih. After a simple ceremony at Grandpa and Pa’s graves, we stayed the night at Ah Chim’s place in SS14. Ah Jek took us on a long walk to see a small but beautiful garden in their neighbourhood.

The next day, we visited Gideon, Evelyn and baby Giovanni before we met Jiu Jiu and relatives at Secret Recipe nearby. After lunch, we drove to his house to chit chat further. At about 3pm, we drove home, though at first ma wanted to visit David’s place.

The moment we reached and parked the car at Novo8, Leslie realised he had left his laptop in Jiu Jiu’s house! We didn’t want to drive back up, what with the traffic jam and our exhaustion.

So the next day at 5.30am, Leslie and I took the bus up to TBS( my first time). We then took the MRT/LRT to Jiu Jiu’s place, then managed to reach Melaka at 3pm. Then we visited Julie at 4.30. Grace didn’t follow though because she wanted to watch TV with Ah Yee.

In the evening, Aaron and Alice came over for dinner and we had a nice time chatting and playing the hidden item puzzle book which we bought in Popular in kl. We spent one more night in Melaka and drove back to muar on Thursday morning. Phew!

Today I cleared the house, it being vacant for three days had accumulated a lot of dust and dried leaves. In the afternoon, Grace spent the afternoon with Ivana and they drew a funny comic.

Then at night, we attended Gabriel’s birthday party until 10pm. Grace had fun, although most of the kids were two years older than her. Pan Zi and Yew Boon really put in a lot of effort to organise the basketball themed party.