#i am filling in the gaps these boys are my ocs now i will create more vamp lore its 2023 guysssssss

[jeonqukie]

PLAYING CUPID / 01.

SYNOPSIS / Consistently overshadowed by your older sister, you expect your days in high school to be filled with plastic smiles and apathetic peers with hidden intentions. Everything changes when four of the most popular guys in school join you and your best friend for lunch on the first day of school.

FEATURING / Kim Namjoon; appearances by Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook.

GENRES & TAGS / high school au, freshman reader, senior namjoon, student council president namjoon, best friend jungkook, lots of fluff, and some angst.

WARNINGS / Graphic and mature language, slight age difference/gap (to clarify, oc is 14-15 yrs old and namjoon is 17 - first part is rated pg); list will be updated as fic is updated accordingly.

WORD COUNT / ~10.3k

NOTES / I am a day late in posting this and I want to let you guys know that this is... not edited at all and I will be looking through this every now and then to correct any errors. But I hope you enjoy the first part of this series! I wasn’t expecting this to be relatively long, but it was all to set up the characters dynamics and the history behind the reader and Namjoon’s relationship. Any feedback is appreciated. To repeat, I’m so sorry this was super late. Please expect part 2 to be up in ~2 weeks. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

All rights reserved © jeonqukie (formerly known as aiscka). All (or portions) of my work may not be reproduced, redistributed, reclaimed, translated, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

“You’re Sena’s little sister, right?”

You’d be a damn millionaire if you made a dollar for every person on campus tried to break the ice with you. It was a severe understatement to say that your older sister was known around town. She was vice president of the student council, president of the debate club, and the best player on the varsity volleyball team. All of the teachers and faculty adored her, every girl wanted to be her, and every guy wanted to be with her.

For the longest time, you assumed your sister was a celebrity on campus.

You were so wrong.

It was because you never met him. You’ve heard his name so many times whenever your sister had sleepovers with her friends or when she was on the phone with a friend, whispering so softly into the receiver, afraid that someone would find out about that she had a crush on him. You were perplexed because you thought your sister was a very forward person; she had so much confidence talking to so many guys who desperately wanted her attention yet somehow her palms would sweat over him.

“Hey, you know who Kim Namjoon is?” You would sit at the cafeteria for the first time with your best friend, Jungkook, who had devoured half of his ham and cheese croissant sandwich. He looks at you and he would raise one brow.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who’s obsessed with hyung.” But Jungkook sees the genuine confusion form on your face. You catch a glimpse of your older sister who sat on the other side of the cafeteria, thumbing a reply on her phone while her friend nudges at her when she sees the notorious posse that every girl swoons over.

It was a scene right out of a movie.

At that time, you had the faintest idea who they were, but you were quick to find out why they were so well known around campus. Jung Hoseok was the senior of the group; he was a dancer and was featured in numerous music videos by well-known artists and he had an extensive list of choreographers willing to work with him. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin were inseparable; they were juniors who ran the school newspaper and the school yearbook – Taehyung being in charge of the photography while Jimin being in charge of the organizing the yearbook staff. Meanwhile, there was Kim Namjoon; student council president, valedictorian of his class, member of the honor society and numerous organizations on campus.

“Wait, you know who Namjoon is?” You were curious whether Jungkook knew of him, not exactly knowing the guy.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s been my next-door neighbor for god knows how long. His folks and mine go out for golfing twice a month.” You just nod to his answer when you are shoving a chocolate moon pie into your mouth.

But your mouth instantly goes dry when the four guys appear right across from you and Jungkook are seated.

“Gukie!” Hoseok exclaimed at the sight of Jungkook still devouring his croissant. “Look at you! Finally, you’re with the hyungs in high school.” The tease made Jungkook’s ears go pink and you feel your own face get hot; not because of second hand embarrassment, but because you can see everyone’s eyes on you – the two freshmen who had no right to be sharing a table with, what you can only assume, the four most popular guys on campus.

There were many times where people would only want to get to know you because of your sister; girls wanted to get close to you because you were had a cool older sister and boys wanted to be with you because they were so eager to come over to your place and obsess over Sena.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had no interest in her. As a matter of fact, you met Jungkook when you were in middle school and took a swimming class and later found out that you two were in the same class and bonded over your competitive nature in swim class.

“Who’s this? You got a girlfriend on your first day already?” You and Jungkook exchange a look of disgust with each other and create a sensible amount of space for each other to establish that you both see each other as friends.

“Oh my god, wait – you’re Sena’s little sister, right?” Hoseok corrected Jimin who had made the assumption you and Jungkook were an item. Jungkook can see the way you scrunch your nose from his periphery, and he decides to answer for you instead.

“This is YN. She’s… literally been my best friend since middle school.” Jungkook introduces you to the four people right across from you. “YN, this is Hoseok – well, I call him Hobi-hyung. This is Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung. I’m pretty sure you know Namjoon-hyung because –”

“ – school council president.” You interrupt because you didn’t want Jungkook to reveal that you had been inquiring about him earlier. “I remember because you made that welcome speech this morning at the assembly.”

Namjoon is rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment and you resume eating your packed lunch, despite losing all appetite because you are surrounded by so many people did not know. They weren’t terrible people, but you weren’t mentally prepared for such strong personalities and dynamics to be introduced all at once. You felt like an intruder – a fly on the wall – because everyone carried on with their normal conversations; Jungkook and Hoseok were talking about plans for the weekend and then Jimin and Taehyung were already drafting out ideas for the yearbook. Meanwhile, you sat in silence as you ate your tuna salad sandwich, reading a new book you were gifted over the summer by your parents.

“Let me know when you’re done.” A voice catches your attention, and you stop all chewing. “The book, I mean.” Namjoon clarifies and he sees that you are already halfway done with it. “I read it a year ago and I’d like to hear what you think of it.” He offers you a heartwarming smile and you nod once, returning the same grin.

“I started it a week ago. I really like it so far.” The conversation is light and drowned out by the loud voices beside you.

You never really pinned him as a reader.

“So, how’s your first day so far?” He inquires and you honestly thought that the conversation was… over. Normally, that’s how all the conversations go when people find out your Sena’s little sister. They feign their interest in you and instantaneously ask about her.

“It’s… nothing special.” You admit, smoothing your fingers on the pages of the book. “Most of the classes I have before lunch, Guk’s with me. Now –”

“Now, her large, wrinkled brain is going to abandon me and get into those advanced program and honors classes.” You are rolling your eyes at your best friend who whines that you decided not to take the same classes as him.

“We literally have homeroom, social studies, and PE together and then we see each other for breaks and lunch. I think you’ll live.” The group laughs which earns quite a bit of stares from outsiders, but they seem to be completely unfazed by it. Everyone turns back to their own conversations and, usually, your social presence isn’t necessarily sought out by people.

It wasn’t until you hear another inquiry fall out of Namjoon’s mouth.

“What do you have right after lunch?”

“Biology.”

“Honors biology, by the way. Can’t you spare just one regular class for me? Or does your GPA really matter that much to you?” Jungkook complains and you are left ignoring his comments.

If there was one thing that your older sister taught you (something you actually agree with) is that colleges love a good GPA and joining as many clubs as possible. You even remembered how she’d phrase it for you; college admissions officers will cream their pants when you score that 4.0 GPA and do something out of the box from the rest of your peers.

“Or just get smarter, Guk.” Hoseok poked fun at Jungkook, earning a shrug from Jungkook. Namjoon, on the other hand, is smiling from ear to ear at the dynamic between the elder and the youngest of the group.

“Let me see your schedule.” Namjoon urges as he spots your clear binder which has your printed schedule on the cover. You push over your binder to Namjoon who is scanning your binder; he reads through your name, your birth date, the list of teachers you had for the semester and the classes assigned to you.

You feel indifferent about the sudden attention on you, especially from Namjoon; a mere stranger who everyone obsessed over was so piqued by you. You observe the way the corner of his slips curve into an impressive smirk as he glances over at Hoseok.

“Guess who we have for calculus at the end of the day?” He slides over your binder where the rest of the group examine the rest of your schedule, only for Hoseok to find a coinciding class with you.

“How the fuck are you in a senior’s class? Are you some math whiz or something?” Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sight of an advanced calculus class on your schedule. It was one of the things you were proud of you; you were good at math – it happened to be Sena’s worst subject and your parents often joke what she lacked; you had gained immensely.

“Yeah, YN’s cracked, hyung. I don’t understand. I remember in middle school they had to make arrangements for her to get into a pre-caclulus class or some shit like that.” Jungkook finishes his fruit cup and gathers all of the trash on site to toss over to the closest garbage bin.

Namjoon is sliding your binder right back at you, brows raised at you with the same grin he had on. He stares at you for what seemed like a long time – to you, it seemed like a long time and he is glancing back down at where your fingers brush against each other and he pulls away, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I – um, saw that you were taking orchestra too.”

You nod and chew on your cheek, self-conscious all of a sudden about your appearance because you are very much aware that Namjoon is examining every aspect of your face.

“Yeah. I mean, I already know how to play the piano, so I might as well learn how to play another instrument, right?”

“No – yeah, you’re right.” He stammers and he folds his hands together only to be interrupted by Jimin tossing over a bag of pretzels at Namjoon.

“Bell’s about to ring. Pretzels was all they had left. We need to head to physics soon.” Taehyung and Jimin are swinging their bags over their shoulders. Hoseok is too busy on his phone, showing Jungkook a video of his new choreography.

Suddenly, you are receiving a plethora of notifications in the depths of your jean pocket. Your fingers unlock your phone only to reveal a series of text messages from your sister.

Sena [12:29]: Did you just spend your entire lunch with Kim Namjoon?

Sena [12:32]: Earth to YN?

Sena [12:39]: GUK IS FRIENDS WITH ALL 4 OF THEM.

Sena [12:41]: You have officially made a fucking impression to this school. I’m so proud of you. You’re sitting with us at lunch tomorrow.

“Guess I’ll see you later, YN.” The bell doesn’t descend you back to reality. Instead, it was his voice that brings you to pack up your things into your bag. “You might want to sit at the back for Mr. Lu’s biology class; he’s a spitter.” Namjoon swings his backpack over his shoulder. “He reuses the same lesson plan every year. If you need any help with them, you know who to look for.”

As you’re swinging your own bag, Namjoon leaves you with a wink as he is exiting the doors of the cafeteria into the school hallways.

Now, you understand why the entire world was obsessed with Kim Namjoon.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Mrs. Kang, your calculus, is a middle-aged woman who didn’t look like she had aged past thirty. You found it incredibly hard to believe the woman was nearly in her mid-forties who had three kids of her own. She looked like a stern woman but had a good heart from what you remembered; she only wanted what was best for the class even though it meant tormenting them with a shit ton of homework. “I don’t need to go over the syllabus with you bunch. As you can see, this is a much smaller class than a regular class because not a lot of people pass this class.”

Silence fills the room from when you had first arrived. You were one of the last few people to find your seat because your class was all the way on the other side of campus. It seemed like everyone in your class were juniors or seniors. There were so many of them who knew each other from previous classes; they were all huddled in their own designated spots in the class, so you sat at the front of the class because all the seats at the back had been taken and it may help that you’re at the front because it’ll force you to pay attention.

“There’s a lot of material to cover and there’s only so much I can do. Since we’ve implemented the new block schedule, we’ll only be seeing each other for an hour and a half every Wednesdays and Fridays. First thirty minutes will be on new material, next thirty minutes will be spent on practice problems, and then the last thirty minutes will be working with your partner on getting your homework started. I’ve figured getting a head start on the homework for the last thirty minutes will be helpful just in case you or your partner are lost, you have me to ask for assistance.”

Someone’s hand raises up in the air out of your periphery.

Mrs. Kang points to them. “Yes, Namjoon?”

“How do we determine who are partners will be?”

“Please tell me we get to pick our partners.” Mrs. Kang is already turning her back to the class as she searches for a box that had been hidden behind her computer monitor only for her shake the contents of the box.

“The last time I gave the students the opportunity to choose who their partner was, I’ve written a disciplinary notice for academic dishonesty twice a week.” Mrs. Kang prefaced, and the room goes silent. As she continues ruffling through folded papers inside the wooden box, you are already aware of how the partner system is going to work.

Everything was going to be randomly assigned.

“We have 26 of you total which means there will be 13 pairs.” Mrs. Kang announces, and she walks around the class starting from the left where the person is picking a folded paper out of the box. Each person who had unfolded their paper sat patiently until Mrs. Kang had completed distributing the paired assignments around the room. She is fetching a pen and paper as she sits on her desk.

“Alright, our first pair is –” Mrs. Kang looks up to see two people raise their hands; it had been Hoseok and a girl with the prettiest bangs named Mimi. Mrs. Kang continued jotting down the pairs until you scanned the number on your own paper; a large 12 inscribed on your already tattered paper.

You hear Mrs. Kang’s voice as she calls out for the twelfth pair and you raise your hand. You don’t see anyone in your periphery raise their hands, so you turn your body around to search for your partner.

Your body turns cold and still, but you can feel your cheeks get warm at the sight of Namjoon seated down at the back with Hoseok with his hands raised, revealing that he had pulled the same number as you. The thumping in your heart is loud and it beats hard as each moment passes.

Both your hands lower and you are trying to turn your attention back to the front of the class where your teacher stood, but you can feel his eyes on you. You remembered scolding yourself, unaware of why you were so nervous and so shocked to be his partner – he saw you nothing more than another classmate; someone to help him with his assignments.

“Perfect! Since we have our pairs, everyone will be sitting next to their partner from now on; I don’t care where it’ll be. I just need you to sit with them, so we’re not scrambling at the last thirty minutes of class to find them.” Mrs. Kang says sternly, clearly not wanting to waste time in this class. “Shall we begin?”

“How do you already have so much shit to do?” Jungkook laid comfortably on your bed, shoving down salt and vinegar potato chips that your parents had bought from the store last weekend. “Do you like never take a break from reading or what?”

“It’s just a really interesting book.” You say as you flip through the next page and bite into an apple.

You two laid on your bed, basking in the afternoon sun. Normally, you two didn’t have this much down time. Last summer, you two volunteered to be camp counselors to lessen the boredom you two would endure. It was either that or spending every goddamn weekend on the golf course with Jungkook’s parents and yours.

“I was thinking of trying out for the track & field team.” Jungkook informs you and you resume reading. “Namjoon-hyung tells me that the team runs right after school and it sounds fun. Events are early though, and we all know I’m not an early riser.”

The mention of Namjoon urged you to reminisce back to your last period that day. Mrs. Kang mentioned that she wasn’t going to let the class immediately sit right next to their homework partner – thank god. You just wouldn’t know what to talk about with him; you don’t really know what to talk about with people because they always somehow led the conversation back to your older sister.

But, at the end of class, he did manage to keep up with you as you hastily packed all your items into the bag before you darted outside of the classroom. You planned on walking home with Jungkook and you two would meet at the front of the school. Namjoon, somehow, caught up to you in time.

He had grabbed your arm and greeted with you with his million-dollar smile. “Hey,” He breathes, and you stop to offer him a meeker and shier smile.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“You’re meeting with Guk?”

You give him a single nod before he hands you two pieces of paper. You’re curious as to what they are, and you see the words parent’s consent form along with the health forms to give to a doctor – for a physical.

“He’ll know what they’re for.” He reassured you and you hold onto the forms. “Thanks for that. I have to go; I have a meeting in five minutes with the student council.”

“I’ll be sure to give it to him. Was there anything else you wanted to tell him?”

He shakes his head, and he starts reversing his steps, clutching onto the straps of his bags. “I – um, I’m really looking forward for calculus – you know, the whole partner thing. I must be really lucky to be partnered with a cracked, math whiz like you.”

Now, you’re blushing because you weren’t really sure if you were supposed to be flattered or offended.

And he read you so well because he is suddenly panicking but he hid it. He stops his reverses, and he takes one step closer to you.

“I’ll see you and Guk at lunch tomorrow, if that’s alright?” He hums; his voice sounded so soft and clear to you – no one can hear a single thing he had said to you, but you heard him bright as day. Suddenly, you feel a grin creep up to your mouth and you nod once. You had regained some of your confidence back and Namjoon can see it. “Cool, well, I’ll see you ‘round, YN.”

“Earth to YN.” Jungkook snaps at you and you pay attention to your friend who is lying next to you. “Did you hear a single thing I said?”

“Sorry ‘bout that. I dozed for a couple minutes.” You admit and he scrunches his brows, dismissing your moment of silence.

“I was asking how it was like to be in a class of seniors.”

“There’s no difference, honestly.” You begin your thought. “It sucks just because I don’t really know anyone, and everyone knows everyone.”

“Yeah, but you have Namjoon-hyung and Hobi-hyung.” Jungkook reassures you. “They’re basically your friends now because we’ll be hanging around them a lot.”

You weren’t sure if you were looking forward to or nervous to be spending a lot more time with the older guys. They made a good first impression on you though; they’ve probably only mentioned your sister’s name once. Granted, it was only thirty minutes spent together, but it was so much better than most of the conversations you’ve had with everybody else.

“That’s true. I have Namjoon as my homework partner, so I’ll… definitely need to get along with him.” You chuckle under your breath as you read through each line without comprehending a single thing. Your mind had been so clouded with the idea of Namjoon and you weren’t sure why.

Jungkook decided not to stay for dinner that evening even though mom made two pans of lasagna to feed a village. However, he did help you and your mother prepare it. Your mom was pretty insistent on it, so you promise that you’d be giving him some leftovers for lunch the next day. Your dad arrived home next; it was a typical evening – he beelined to your mom, planted a kiss on her cheek and patted your back before he hastily moved to the office to continue working. Sena arrived home from school at a later hour than usual before she was already setting the plates on the dining table.

“Alright, Guk, final offer.” Your mother says as she is pulling out two piping pans of lasagna out of the oven.

“No, thanks, Mrs. LN.” He respectfully declines before he is swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Mom’s expecting me home right about now for dinner. I’ll definitely ask YN to pack me up some leftovers though.”

“Alright.” She waves him a goodbye before you are showing him to the door. “Walk home safely.” She bids him a goodbye softly as she pulls the foils off the pan.

“Pack me an extra serving, please.” Jungkook pleads and you roll your eyes before he already made his way out of the door.

“Honey, dinner’s ready!”

“You did not tell me Jungkook was friends with Namjoon.” Sena settles herself on the dining table and you sit right across from her, waiting for your mom to begin serving everyone a slice of lasagna.

“Quite frankly, I didn’t know Jungkook even knew Namjoon either. I’d say I’m just as surprised as you are, but I really don’t know what the fascination is with Namjoon.” You lied through your teeth as your mom serves herself first (she called dibs on the corner piece) and you decide on getting the smallest piece since you weren’t so hungry that evening.

“Are you talking about Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s son? Is this the same Namjoon we’re talking about right now?” Your mom’s curiosity is evident in her tone, taking small bites out of a side salad she had prepared.

“Yes, and Sena is hopelessly in love with him.” You shove the lettuce into your mouth as you wait for your lasagna serving to cool down momentarily.

“How can you not be in love with him?” She breathes out hastily. Your dad has his brows raised in disbelief; his daughter talking endlessly about her crush.

“He is a nice boy; responsible, kind, gentle, polite, seems to get things done, really cute too.” Your mom lists his never-ending advantages, and you stray away from their eyes because you hate the admit that you find him incredibly cute.

“Can we please talk about something other than this boy?” Your father is already exhausted from listening to you talk about Namjoon and you don’t blame him, really. “How was the first day for you, dear?” He refers to you and you are still chewing on your dinner.

“I have three classes with Guk. I like all of my classes so far; I can already tell calculus is going to be… a lot of work. We have a test every week and we mandatory study sessions after school for the exam to qualify for college credits. Thankfully, I have a partner to work with just in case I don’t understand anything. There’s also –”

“Who’s your partner? Maybe I know them.”

Your silence is defeating, and you look at your dad who is waiting for his answer and you dart your eyes back at Sena who is piecing the puzzle in her head, so she drops her mouth open, gasping at your lack of a response.

“No fucking way!”

“Language, please, Sena.” Your mom scolds.

“I mean, you’ve been in the same classes as him before! I’m sure you’ve been in a group project with him or something. You guys are in the same clubs. I don’t understand why you haven’t asked him out.” You weren’t so sure what motivated you to blurt it all out because your sister was definitely a good catch, but the obsession with him was getting way out of hand.

“That’s ridiculous, YN. I would never ask out a guy. I don’t even know he likes me that way.” Sena is taking small bites out of her dinner and you sigh to yourself, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “If there was only a way for me to find out. It’s not like I have a sister who’s partners with him in a class – oh, she’s also best friends with his next-door neighbor! How convenient.”

She eyes at you where you decide to focus on your meal, but her eyes are pleading and desperate.

“I… am completely eliminating myself from this predicament, Sena. If you want to ask him out for yourself, you should do it. Besides, who wouldn’t like you? You’re amazing.” Your voice is sincere and genuine, and you hope she pushes all of her fears and insecurities to the side to do something about her feelings.

“It would just be so much easier if I knew if he thought I was cute or something.”

“Everyone thinks you’re cute.”

“That’s not the point, YN. Listen, how ‘bout this? You don’t even have to drop my name in there; just ask what his ideal girl is like or something… or let Guk do the work! I’m sure he already knows the answer. Just help a girl out, please, YN.” You sigh defeated because your sister was really good at convincing.

It wasn’t really hard to figure out what type of girl Namjoon was interested in or… if he was interested in girls. All of this was easier said than done and you were going to rely on Jungkook a lot on this.

“I’m not going to prioritize this.” You surrender and she is giddy in her seat.

“YN, you are the best sister anyone could ask for.”

Several weeks have passed since you had last had your conversation with your older sister. You made an emphasis that you weren’t going to prioritize delving into Namjoon’s personal life. You were purely on a calculus homework and best friend’s next door neighbor relationship with him. But you finally get an idea of what Namjoon likes in a girl when he had to leave early for calculus to get pep rally ready for the first football game that Friday.

Unknown [14:34]: It’s Namjoon. Got your number from Guk.

For some reason, you feel your heart leap out of your chest at the text message. You’re still seated in calculus class working on the first few problems of your homework without him. You look up to see that Mrs. Kang is too busy assisting other students confused with the problem. Honestly, you were confused too and were unsure with your methods, but your mind had been too focused on your cellphone the entire time.

Namjoon [14:35]: Should’ve gave you the heads up about this. Sorry about leaving you alone to work. ):

You [14:36]: It’s no big deal. Seems like everyone’s confused, tbh.

Namjoon [14:36]: Fuck, mb. It’s the first game of the night, so I’m kind of required to be here. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

Namjoon [14:37]: I have some down time after setting up. Maybe we can work on it then?

You [14:37]: Just tell me the time and place, I’ll be there. (:

Namjoon says that he had somebody covering his duties for the student council before the game began. You see him rushing inside a computer lab that remained open for students to use. You had reserved a table at a secluded corner because you wanted to be away from prying eyes. He spots you trying to reread your notes and erase the umpteenth method you had tried for a word problem you were stuck on.

He admires the way your brows knit together; lips pursed as you began redoing your method on a separate piece of paper. He keeps standing, not taking his place on the chair right next to you – too afraid that you would interrupt your flow. You feel a presence right next to you and he nearly gives you a fright and you realize just how tall he is.

“You scared me.” You inform and he chuckles softly at how endearing it was. He takes the seat right next to you where he is already pulling out notebook and pencils from his bag.

“I left my book at my locker. Do you mind if I share your book with you?” You look at your open textbook and nod at once pushing the textbook closer for both of you to see. “Thanks.” He scoots much closer than you had intended and when he strips his hoodie off of him, you can smell his cologne and how good it smelled on him.

You ignore your thoughts and scurry back to the problem you’re on.

“What problem did you end on?” He inquires and you point to the exact word problem you had been staring at for the past thirty minutes in class.

“It’s been bugging me. I didn’t want to ask Mrs. Kang because I wanted to figure it out myself.” You were so stubborn, he thought to himself. You had only completed a total of eight problems when there was so much more to do for the weekend. For some reason, you decided to stay stuck on that problem for god knows how long and Namjoon found it adorable – one of the few attributes he liked about you.

He reads the word problem and begins trying to solve the problem on his own. After several tries, he had figure out what you had done wrong and he so desperately wanted to point it out to you. Just when he was about to open his mouth, you turn to him and shake your head, covering your ears with your hands.

“No. I refuse to let you tell me what you did wrong. I can figure this out myself.” You whisper harshly. Namjoon can’t help but respond with silenced laughter because this is exactly how your homework sessions have been going; just the both of you refusing to let the other correct each other until the other figured it out themselves.

“Can I give you one clue?”

“Nope.” You popped your ‘p’ to accentuate just how persistent you were. You stuck out your lower lip as you examined the word problem again and he looked at the glossiness of your mouth and the softness of your cheeks; how he desperately wanted to lay his own petals right on yours as his fingers crawl to your face.

“So, I have a question.” He starts.

“And I can try to give you an answer depending on what it is.”

“Are… you and Guk by any chance – y’know?” His question is vague, but you definitely know what he is asking you because lots of people were never really used to the idea of a boy and a girl ever being best friends; for some reason, people assume they always end up dating and never talking to each other again.

“God, no. I love him, but I don’t love him like… I’d date him.” Your cheeks were fully flamed, and you weren’t so sure why you were so embarrassed to discuss this with Namjoon. All the times you had to clarify people on your relationship with Jungkook, you were almost disgusted and quick to reassure people that you two were nothing more than friends.

“Well, is there anyone you were willing to date?” Namjoon is pushing the boundaries here and he knows it very well. But he feels like he has gotten to know you well enough in the past few weeks to ask such a question.

“Not that… I know of really.” You try to remain composed when you respond to his question, but you feel his eyes burn into your soul, so you’re doing everything you can to avoid his stare. But Namjoon continues to stare right into you. He really can’t take his eyes off of you. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever really experienced what it’s like to be attracted to –” Just when you had mustered the confidence to look at him, he is quite literally staring so deeply into your eyes that it is taking your breath away.

He is making you eat your words right now; you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to…?”

“I don’t what it’s like to be attracted to someone.” You sigh softly; your breath fanning him. “On the contrary, I don’t think anyone’s ever really been attracted to me.” A chuckle comes erupting from your mouth, shaking your head. “Fortunately, that’s not really my goal in high school.”

“You don’t know that.” He quips.

“I don’t know what?”

“If someone’s been attracted to you before.” You shake your head in disbelief, chewing on the inside of your cheek knowing fully well that he was doing this because he wanted to seem like a dick for not disagreeing with your self-deprecation.

“Well, what about you?” You pose the question to him. “From what I understand, most girls and guys I pass by swoon every time you pass by.” He is chuckling to himself this time and he is very much aware of his desirability among his classmates. “You have plenty of choices; I’m sure you have the opportunity to date someone you must really like at this very moment.”

“That’s what I’m hoping on. I’m just not quite sure how she feels about me.” You feel like you were unraveling his darkest secrets and you were happy he considered you close enough to reveal who it is or give an inkling to who it is.

“Do I know her by any chance?” You’re hoping that you can narrow down who he is interested in. Because you barely knew anybody, you knew this would be a piece of cake.

“Yes.” He replies simply and he is staring at you. “You know her very well, YN.” He sighs, hoping you would finally understand what he is alluding to.

“Is she in my grade?” You were really hoping that the answer would be no or else you’d be breaking some terrible news to Sena that evening after the football game.

Namjoon nods slowly and he can see how you are not picking up his hints. He sees the slight disappointment in your face for whatever reason. Suddenly, he is perplexed because, in his eyes, he has made it pretty clear who he was interested in from the get-go. Many people should make the assumption, too, considering there was only one person he had his eyes on – only one person he was giving his attention to.

“Is it… that girl in Guk’s class who –”

As you are trying to list out the girls in your class who has interacted with Namjoon, he is in complete disbelief that you have not figured it out at all. How much more clueless could you get? He is sighing now because is frustrated. He admires your persistence when it came to solving difficult word problems in calculus but it’s frustrating when you are unaware of his feelings for you.

Just when is about to confess his feelings for you, you are greeted with another presence calling for both your names.

“So, this is where you two have been.” Jungkook ambles hastily towards your table and you grin from ear to ear when he is taking out his algebra textbook. “YN, one last chance, please. I didn’t pass my last quiz which brought me one letter grade down and my dad’s going to make me quit track & field if I don’t –”

“I told you I’d help you over the weekend, dumbass. I’m busy getting shit done with Namjoon.” You breathe softly before he is hugging you on your side and you grunt at how much stronger he has gotten. “But you’re buying me coffee for a week.”

“Sick.” Jungkook simply replies before he begins unpacking some of his homework. “You excited for the football game, Namjoon-hyung?” Jungkook queries and Namjoon is baffled because the moment is gone. One interruption from his next-door neighbor and the moment’s lost.

“Fuck yeah.” Namjoon replies and he sees that you’ve suddenly lost interest in the subject. You were subconsciously listening on their conversation while you are back to resolving the complicated word problem right in front of you. “Will you two be going to the game?”

“I’ll go, but YN won’t go because she hates crowds and, honestly, she doesn’t know how the game.” You exhale in response to Jungkook’s statements. Namjoon observes that you decide to move onto another problem, wanting to tackle the word problem at a different time. “Everyone you know will practically be there. Why not give it a shot?”

“We usually have half of the bleachers reserved for the student council since we’re in charge of tickets and concessions, so it won’t be that big of a crowd.” Namjoon attempts to entice you with modifications to appease your concerns. “Plus, we’d all get to hang out with each other; no homework, no calculus talk – just… us.”

Jungkook is stunned to see you agree.

The night was a lot more enjoyable than you thought it would be. Namjoon waived off the entrance fee for the game the moment he mentioned that you and Jungkook were volunteers. Taehyung was already on the field taking photographs of the football players and cheerleaders while Jimin took photographs of the students on the bleachers. You even passed by your own sister who was busy with her own group at the entrance entertaining friends, families, and alumni into the bleachers. Meanwhile, Namjoon was overseeing every single aspect of the event; he was mainly at the concessions, not wanting to create so much traffic around it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You offer your assistance before he notices that you have your hair all tied up. “I’ve washed my hands if that helps.” Namjoon can’t hide his smile and he offer you a pair of food safe gloves.

“I’m usually one to decline help, but we really need it. Let’s see – Yuqi really needs to go use the bathroom, so you can be in charge of the drinks and chips right now.” You take your station at the drinks and chips stations. It was going faster than you had expected; people ordered too fast or too slow – there was no in between. There were people who were very certain with their order which you appreciated. Then, there were the people who were very fickle with their order and you can’t help but stand awkwardly to wait for them to decide.

“I can’t believe you roped me into helping.” Jungkook grumbles under his breath. “Hey, I didn’t rope you into anything.” You take the five-dollar bill from the student and offer them back their change.

“Yeah, but you made me seem like a real asshole sitting there not helping.” You can’t help but laugh at Jungkook’s pout because you knew just how much he wanted to just spend his time on the bleachers, watching the game with his hyungs. But he was stuck here helping out the student council while most of them were on their bathroom breaks.

“Once someone’s back from their bathroom break, you can go back to your game.” You soothe him and the chaos outside the booth is starting to die down. Less and less people were coming because they’ve all satisfied their craving and the game was building up – it was pretty close, so you understand why Jungkook was in there sulking with you. When you turn to look at Namjoon, hoping to convince him to let Jungkook off the hook, you don’t see him there.

You look out the window to hear your sister’s pretentious giggle. She laughed so differently around him – acted so differently around him. He stood right next to her with the rest of the council members, giving them a big pep talk. She looked at him like he was an angel who fell from heaven. Their conversation ends and the rest of the council members disband except Sena and Namjoon. They are having a personal conversation and you can’t read mouths, but you can’t tear your eyes away from their beaming faces.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You clear your throat, speaking so softly so only Jungkook can hear you.

“I’m all ears.”

“Does – does Namjoon have a type?” You say out of curiosity. Jungkook raises a brow at you, curious as to what motivated you to ask the question.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve never really heard hyung talk about any girls… or his type, to be honest.” He hums and he is staring at you stare at your sister and Namjoon. “Why’d you ask?”

“It’s… for Sena.” It was the truth, but your own curiosity was definitely a motivating factor. “She’s been obsessed with Namjoon since… as long as I can remember.” You breathe out, hoping no one else can eavesdrop on your conversation. “She’s been talking a lot about him more since she found out I knew him, y’know?”

“Huh,” Jungkook leans on the table and folds his arms. “Why doesn’t she just tell him?”

“Apparently, she needs some sort of confirmation that he thinks of her that way too, so she doesn’t make a fool of herself.”

“Why don’t you just ask him then?” Your silence is clearly something Jungkook wasn’t expecting because you never actually considered it once. “He’s a pretty easy-going guy; just ask him and he’ll be honest.”

“We’re not on that level of friendship yet, I guess.”

“Well, I consider you guys close enough to ask that kind of question.”

“Then, he’d just assume I’m being friends with him because my sister was using me.”

“Well, are you?”

“No.”

Your own answer stuns you almost. Just a couple weeks ago, you knew nothing of Namjoon and, suddenly, you are on a level of friendship where you think you can confide him in anything. Perhaps, now, you really understood why everyone obsessed over him; why everyone wanted to be friends with him, why everyone wanted to date him, why everyone just wanted to be noticed by him.

“Then, feel free to ask him yourself.”

You hadn’t really worked up the courage to talk to Namjoon about his dating life. You repeated to yourself that it wasn’t really a priority to delve into what goes on behind the scenes with Namjoon. You were in a consistent state of going to school, doing your homework, reading books, and retraining your body to try out for the swim team next semester. 

But the time came when you got sick for an entire week and missed so much material, especially calculus material.

But you were eternally saved by Namjoon himself.

Namjoon had requested to drop off the homework sheets and printed copies of his notes over to you. Everything was so detailed, and you were impressed with how organized everything seemed to be. You didn’t know what motivated you to reach for your phone on your bed and dial in his number. Maybe you felt like it deserved a personal thanks rather than a typed one.

“YN?” His voice on the other line sounded so surprised and there was so much noise on the other end. “Give me a second.” He excuses before you hear him move to another location, somewhere much quieter.

“How many times do I have to thank you for being an absolute saint?” Your voice sounded so stuffed. The flu was getting to you really bad, but you were recovering well. But he chuckles into the receiver and you are flipping through each page he had printed before you fall onto your bed, sighing blissfully. “I’m serious, Joon. I’ll say it a million times if I have to.”

“You’ve pulled my weight when I was off doing council work so much. I’m sure if I got sick, you’d do the exact same thing. It’s what partners do.” Namjoon is smiling from ear to ear; he was glowing, and no one was there to really witness it. “I – um, did you see my note attached at the back?”

You are now flipping through the pages frantically until you see a handwritten sticky note that read: “We have a quiz on the Monday you come back. I’m free this weekend if you wanted to study with me.” And there was even a little smiley face attached to it and you are experiencing a whirlwind of emotions.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” You can feel the panic starting to bubble in the pits of your belly, but you were trying not to let it show. “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t rob you of your weekend. It’s just – It’s just too much.”

“I’m happy to do it, Ace. I promise.” The guy deserved everything in the world because he was too generous for the world and you weren’t so sure what you did to deserve such kindness.

“Ace?”

He chuckles embarrassingly into the receiver, chewing on his cheeks. “I – uh, it’s a nickname. I hope you don’t mind.” Suddenly, butterflies erupt from your stomach and there is a glow on your cheeks that you are very much aware of and you are curling into your bed with a shit eating grin on your face.

“I – I like it.” You sigh and Namjoon leans on the wall as he observes the rest of his friends and council members enjoy slices of pizza, taking a well-deserved break from preparing for the pep rally event coming up next week.

“So, is that a yes to a study session this Saturday?”

“Yes.” Your voice is small and hesitant because it feels like you’re doing something wrong when you were just having a quiz session with your calculus partner.

“Great. My place or yours?”

Namjoon insisted on coming over to your place because you were still recovering. Coincidentally, your parents had the weekend trip away with your dad’s work colleague for a wine tasting event. You debated whether you wanted to tell Sena that Namjoon was going to be arriving in an hour, but you soon realize that she was out with her friend’s house for a movie night session.

You had the place all to yourself and you were relieved and frantic all at once.

You busied yourself the entire day to make yourself look decent; brushed hair, brushed teeth, clean face, and fresh clothes. You throw used tissues into trash bins, changed your sheets, and kicked all of your dirty laundry into your hamper that had fallen on the carpeted floors. As you are jogging downstairs, you discover you have no food in the fridge, so you’d probably have to order a pizza or something to share with Namjoon.

Immediately, you question why you are so desperate to make the place and yourself so presentable when this was a mere tutoring session with your calculus partner?

The doorbell ringing prompts you to peek through the peep hole and you see him; he is wearing a regular white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He has his hoodie thrown over his shoulder as he begins texting a message on his phone, waiting for you to open the door for him.

When you unlock the front door and open the door for him, you smile timidly at him.

“Hi,” You greet him nervously.

“Hey, Ace.” He waves before he examines how you look. Despite your red nose and tired eyes, he missed seeing your face for a week; he really did. You stood awkwardly fiddling with your fingers and he can sense just how anxious you are, so he decides to tread lightly. “May I come in?”

His tone is so polite which effectively allows you to open the door wider for him to enter. You are nodding and you close the door shut behind him, ensuring that you have locked them. “I – um, I can’t really offer you anything to eat since my parents are out of town, but we can order pizza, if you want. It’s what my sister and I usually do.”

“I’m more than okay with pizza.” He permits and you nod and begin walking to the living room. “Will we be working here?”

“We can work anywhere.” You announce. The conversation is so light, and you hate how quick yet reluctant you are to your responses. “I – I can get you a glass of water, if you’d like. I’ll just get my things from upstairs and bring them down to the living room.” You inform him and he nods as he is making himself comfortable on the couch.

You are scurrying off upstairs to go get your materials and catching your breath because you think you were holding your breath the entire time. You’re stalling because you’re making a check list of every single thing you need for downstairs to avoid seeing him or talking with him. Just when you are about to exit, you see him at the bottom of the stairs. He is examining each family portrait on the wall.

Your face is hot because you can only imagine how terrible you looked like a child, so you jog downstairs with your study materials to gain his attention. “I never really realized how much Sena looks like your dad.” Namjoon comments and you stop in your tracks, only to examine the portrait he is looking at. “Exact same nose and smile.”

You purse your lips into a thin line because you are reminded once again that he is probably only interested in getting to know Sena – there was always that possibility. You were so familiar with this feeling of discussing your sister with other people because – yes, she is absolutely beautiful and intelligent and there was no denying it.

“But you are like your mother.” He comments as he takes a closer look at your mom who seems to be so much more youthful. “The way she’s smiling here looks so much like the way you smile.” He describes and you allow him to explain more by staying silent. “When you smile, your nose kind of crinkles and the corners of your eyes creases and your dimples are a lot more –”

Your throat seizes because you’re flattered and aware that he has perfectly examined your appearance and all the features in what he sees. He grows silent and he is chuckling nervously, scratching the back of his hand to distract himself.

“Sorry that was… super random.” Namjoon clears his throat, and you are shaking your head before you point towards the living room.

“I – I’m ready now.”

Now, you’re desperately hoping Sena doesn’t come home too early from her friend’s house.

Hours have passed since Namjoon have gotten you caught up with all of the materials and have assisted you through last week’s homework sheets. Namjoon was impressed with how you can keep up despite your recovering condition. One minute, you were sneezing and wiping your nose clean and, the next minute, you have your lips pursed and brows furrowed as you are writing equations down on a separate piece of paper.

“I got a question for you.” Namjoon begins and you are still too busy piecing everything together for a specific word problem you wanted to master.

“Shoot.”

“Are you always this focused?” You are typing things into a calculator before you are erasing things on your paper and you turn to look at him, showing him the calculator.

“Is this the right answer?” You ignore his question for a moment.

He nods and you grin at him before you proceed onto the next word problem.

“If I’m a week’s worth of lessons behind, yes, I’m focused all the time.” Namjoon is shaking his head and he is in awe at how you are so quick at writing all the information; he notices how neat your handwriting is too. Namjoon checks his watch and realizes just how late it has been and he clears his throat as he looks out the window to see the sun has gone completely down.

“Will your sister be coming home tonight?” Namjoon notices that you stop writing – you stop solving the word problem that you are tackling because you, suddenly, realize that he is asking about your sister.

“She’s probably still at a friend’s house or something.” He senses the atmosphere has changed and you shift your mind back to the practice problem right in front of you. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason – well, I honestly thought she should be taking care of her recovering sister.” You snicker at his statement.

“She’s a great sister, but she’s not that great.” You quip, biting your tongue at how ridiculous he sounded. “I think we can all agree that she’s smart, charismatic, and ambitious. I will admit she’s a really considerate sister too, but she thinks caring for her ill sister is a parents’ job – not hers.”

“Okay, okay, I get it she’s amazing but not… amazing.” He raises his hands to surrender and his words coming out of his mouth urged you to inquire about his relationship with her.

“If you think she’s amazing, why don’t you date her?” The words came spilling out of your mouth uncontrollably. Maybe it was the meds, you thought. You see the grin disappear from Namjoon’s face into utter confusion and he tilts his head for further clarification. “What I mean is that… you’ve known her and worked with her for so long and she’s a great girl – I’m obviously really biased considering she’s my sister, but you two would make a… great couple.”

You didn’t believe that you were talking about this to Namjoon. You didn’t think you would have the guts to discuss this with him, but the opportunity came up and you took it. But you are faced with such an unfamiliar emotion. True discomfort arises at the pit of your stomach as Namjoon’s brows furrow together and he is shaking his head with the same boyish grin he always flaunted to the world.

“Ace, she’s great, but I… honestly see her as a friend.” He isn’t so sure how many times he’s reiterated those words before. Because little did you know, so many people have asked the exact same thing. Peers and colleagues in their class were very much aware of Sena’s not so little crush on Namjoon for quite some time.

“Well, I mean, isn’t that how all relationships really start? Becoming friends and then possibly developing feelings for each other? Most people always see each other as friends until one of them is aware of the others’ feelings, right?” Your tone was so quizzical. You were treating this conversation like it required rationale and logical reasoning to tackle the issue at hand.

But this wasn’t a problem the mind can solve.

“That’s the usual circumstance, yes.” He admits and he sees that you resume back to the worksheet. “But I’ve known Sena’s had a thing for me and, quite frankly, I’ve been interested in someone else for a while, remember?”

“Someone far more interesting than Sena?” You are in disbelief. You are trying to eliminate other people in school who is on the same social standing as your older sister. “That’s… not possible.” You breathe.

“You’re wrong.” You stop writing because you are retracing your steps on the word problem you are solving. He finds it so endearing how you can’t seem to understand that he is utterly into you, but you are so lost in numbers.

“No, don’t tell me, Joon. I’ve told you this hundreds of times –” You lift your head to look at him to accentuate your reminder; you didn’t want to know what you wrong, you wanted to solve the problem yourself unless you demanded the assistance yourself.

Normally, Namjoon would comply with your request. It was so rare for him to point out your mistake, but he figured this was the perfect time to do so.

“You’re so stubborn.” He breathes before he dives in.

You don’t complete your sentence. Because when you turn your head to look at him with pleading eyes, you are met with his pillowy petals on yours. Your cheeks heat instantaneously, and you can feel your heart leap from your chest.

His kisses were soft and slow. You don’t realize that he has already cupped your cheeks. You’ve never kissed anyone ever before but, for some reason, it was like you knew how to move your mouth against his. He was gentle but there was a certain control he possessed. You pull away momentarily to breathe and, suddenly, you feel the heat of his tongue swipe on your lower lip. A shuddered whimper leaves your mouth before you are regrettably pulling away from addiction.

“N – no, that’s not possible.” You’re still in denial from the events that occurred. “Sena – she’d be so… betrayed if she –” Your brain is glitching and it didn’t help that you can taste the mint of his lips on yours.

“Listen, Ace, for one moment stop thinking about Sena and answer me honestly.” Namjoon positions his body to look straight onto you. “Do you feel the same way I do or not?”

“I don’t – I don’t know.” You shrug before avoiding his eyes. “I – I shouldn’t like you.” You sigh defeated and you are covering your face. You were ashamed not because you like him, but because you didn’t understand what you were really feeling, and you didn’t understand what you wanted to do. “Why – why do you like me?”

“You’re hardworking and incredibly intelligent.”

“I know plenty of other girls who are… exactly the same.”

“Your tastes in book are impeccable. You’re selfless to a degree that I can’t quite comprehend. You keep to yourself, but when you speak your mind, it leaves a lasting impression. Listen, YN, I can keep going, but you can’t… keep doubting my feelings for you.” Namjoon justifies and it was a tough pill to swallow.

You were too stunned to say anything. Too many emotions flooding your brain and it took too long for it to process, so you remained expressionless. Namjoon found it incredibly difficult for him to read your face.

“Ace, it’s really hard to tell how you’re feeling right now.” He points out and you understand just how awkward you sat there; head spinning with so many things to say but very little coming out of your mouth.

“I – I don’t know what you want me to say.” You admit. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting out of me with a confession like this. If I don’t feel the same way, what would’ve happened? If I do feel the same way, what – what was I supposed to do?”

“Well, for starters, do you actually feel the same way as I do?”

“I – I do.” You croak to respond to his inquiry. “I – I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to myself either, but… I think I like you.”

A wave of relief washed over Namjoon, but there’s a bit of relief for you too. It’s out in the open now, and you know that there’s nothing really you can do about it. There’s a very content grin plastered right across his handsome face, but it slowly transforms into a frown as he realizes that, despite your feelings for each other, nothing will change between the both of you.

“Namjoon, we can’t be anything more than friends.” You realize the unfortunate circumstances the both of you were in. “It’s not fair to my sister. I don’t think it’s very fair to make me choose between you and my sister. I – I don’t think it’s very fair that… you’re in this position.”

Your heart swelled just moments ago, and you can feel it crumble into pieces as the words come spilling out of your lips.

“I understand.” He agrees softly and you perk up at his acquiescence. “I’m not going to force you to be in that position, Ace.” The reassurance softens your tense form, and his fingers cradle your chin, lifting up to be at eye level with you.

“But when you’re ready to reconsider... us, I’ll be waiting.”

↪ Please stay tuned for the next part!

[hazbbyhaz]

sleepless || harry styles

twenty four

pairing: Harry Styles x OC

synopsis: the party cleanup

disclaimer: mentions of selfharm, mentions of scars

just remember that sometimes, the way you think about a person isn’t the way they actually are - John Green

At 3am the party had finally started to die down, people slowly funneling their way out. And by 3:30, All the guests were gone, leaving Avery, Harry, and Francis. Avery was on her fourth cup of coffee, the caffeine keeping her awake enough to not pass out on the couch. Everyone was sitting in the living room, strewn around the space. All of them winding down from the energy that the party created. It was silent. Serene. Comforting, in a way.

Harry was the first to move, starting to pick up the mess that swept the entire flat. Avery and Francis joined him soon after. They collected all the cups and plates that were scattered about, bringing all of them to the kitchen. Francis washed the dishes, Avery dried and put them away, and Harry made several trips around the apartment to collect all the trash.

Avery was lost in her own world, taking her time in drying the dishes and figuring out where they were kept. A tap on her shoulder had broken her from her trance. When she looked back, she saw Francis with a big soapy beard on his face. His jaw was completely covered in bubbles.

“How do I look, Avery?”

“Absolutely fabulous, if I do say so myself.” They were giggling like children, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

The laughter had Harry making his way to the source, and the sight in front of him had him laughing too. It was nice seeing Avery and Francis smiling and laughing. It was something that he hadn’t seen in a while, mainly from his friend. Maybe this party really was what he needed. Maybe this was a fresh start.

“Alright Old Saint Nick, let's get the kitchen cleaned up, after that we are finished till the morning.”

Harry chuckled, throwing a towel to Francis, and after he wiped his face clean, they continued. The rest of the dishes were washed and put away, the counters were wiped down, and the floors were swept. Avery had the cake she made in her hands, about to put it in the fridge, before she heard someone protest.

“Nope. You're not putting that masterpiece away until you try a piece.”

Francis hastily took it out of her hands, grabbed a paper plate, and cut a small slice out of the cake. He just about shoved it into her hands, not taking his eyes off of her until she took a bite. "It's very sugary," She said, grimacing as she swallows her first bite. "I think I need to cut down on that the next time"

"I think it’s great," Francis shrugs, getting a new fork to take a bite from her piece. "I mean, considering this is one of your first cakes, this is amazing."

"Thank you." After tasting the cake herself, Avery doubted that he was telling the truth. It was awful. "Harry, you try a bite" She holds the fork out to Harry and he doesn't even take the utensil from her, but eats it straight from the fork. The silly action instantly made her blush, All the heat rushing to her face and making it beet red. But the redness of her cheeks quickly vanishes as Harry loudly coughs, and nearly downs a whole glass of water after swallowing the small bite of cake.

"I'm sorry, Ave, but..." He takes a breath. "that is revolting. Francis, how are you just eating that?" Avery giggles, looking over at Francis, who has almost finished her piece.

"I can feel the cavities forming in my teeth..." He takes another sip off his water.

"I like it." Francis concludes with a shrug. "Anyways, Avery, are you staying here or should we take you home? I can play my charm and convince Mrs Sheffield to give us her car keys."

"It's 4am," Harry frowns.

“Trust me, she loves me!"

They keep bantering back and forth while Avery contemplates if she should stay or go. She had been with Harry for a majority of the weekend, rarely leaving his side. She didn’t want to overwhelm him. Didn’t want him to get tired of her presence or feel like she was clinging to him. "You can stay, Ave. It's no problem." Harry says, bringing her back into reality with his green eyes looking into her own.

"I don't want to bother you guys"

"You're not bothering anyone. Stay. I can walk you home after breakfast"

Her gaze moves over to Francis, who was putting the cake back into its container. She was looking for him to protest, for him to say that he didn’t want her there. But he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, so she nods. "Alright, just til after breakfast."

Harry breaks into a smile and Francis puts the dessert in the fridge, slowly closing the door. "Great, now that this has been discussed, I am going to bed." Francis said goodnight to the two before vanishing in his bedroom. Avery noticed how Harry's eyes stayed fixed on his friends door for a moment.

"He likes you." Harry then says, turning back to her with a gleaming smile.

"I'm glad"

He walks over to her, leaning against the kitchen counter. "When do you go back to work?"

"Tomorrow."

"You're going to be tired."

"I'll be fine." She murmurs. In the dim kitchen light, Harry can see the three freckles on her nose, and the different shades of blue in her eyes. There had been numerous times where he’d thought about kissing Avery. More than he would like to admit. So many times where he wanted to sweep the loose strand of hair behind her ear, cup her cheek, and put his lips onto her own. He believed that, maybe, her pain would leave after he kissed her. He knew that it was stupid. That it was impossible. That something that mundane could ever fix the pain that she had felt.

So, out of all these times, he picked this one. He picked this time because he was tired. He picked this time because he still had some liquid courage coursing through his veins. He picked this time because she looked just… so unbearably sad. Even though he knew she had a great time that night, there was this underlying look to her. Even at her happiest, she always looked to be sad. Like she was in a great world of pain. Always.

He slowly leaned closer, his gaze fixed on hers. She didn't move away from him as their eyes met. "I don't think we should do that," Her breath is warm against his lips. "You'd regret it."

"I doubt that." His words are hushed, and if he leaned a bit closer, just the smallest bit, their lips would touch. Averys gaze switched between his eyes and his lips. She wants to be brave enough to close the gap. She does. But there is a small voice in her head telling her that it's wrong. That she will destroy everything that she has created if she moves forward with what's happening.

"You're so soft nobody knows how to take care of you".. "You know what you are? An ungrateful brat. That's all that you are, and that’s all you’ll ever be".

"You're pathetic, I can't deal with you anymore. No one can."

"I'm sorry but... I can't." She whispers and she doesn't have to tell him that's it because of her mind, her past, and everything that she continues to hide from him. He knows.

"I get it." Harry reassures her and instead of kissing her lips, he kisses her forehead.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” He leaned in again, pressing his lips to her forehead once more. This time letting them linger.

“It’s okay, Ave. It’s alright. You don't need to be sorry.”

So, instead of kissing, they watch Lost In Translation. Harry had fallen asleep shortly after, his head resting on her thigh, and Avery’s fingers gently carted through his soft, honey brown curls. Somewhen, the morning sun illuminated the living room. The early morning rays casting a golden shadow over the room. Bathing everything in what could only be described as eternal light.

Francis emerged from his bedroom soon after the sun rose, stopping for a short second to look at his friend. Harry was asleep on Avery's lap, his face cuddled into her stomach with her hand resting on his head. He looked so at peace, even youthful in his sleep. He was getting the rest that Francis knew he deserved. That he needed.

Seeing him and Avery together made Francis happy. He saw the way that they had interacted during the party. They were always together, never spending much time apart.

Francis made his way to the kitchen, getting himself a glass of water. He got a cup out of a cabinet, one that had been washed only hours ago, and filled it at the kitchen sink. not bothering with ice, it was too early for ice cold water. Once the cup was full, he turned off the tap and turned around. He jumped and nearly dropped his cup, startled to see Avery stood at the entrance of the small space.

“Jesus! You scared me.” Francis leaned against the counter, holding a hand up to his chest in an effort to slow his racing heart.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

They stood there in silence for a while. Avery eventually made her way into the kitchen, sitting atop of the counter closest to the entrance. Francis was looking out the small window they had in the kitchen, and Avery watched. He didn’t seem to be actively in the room. His mind was elsewhere. This was a different kind of silence. Not like the atmosphere that they had experienced after everyone had left hours ago. This one was darker, in a way.

Somehow, Avery knew. She just knew. She knew that he was troubled. Maybe it was the worry that Harry always had in his eyes when looking at his friend. Maybe it was the dread that showed in Harry’s face whenever he called. Or maybe it was her own personal experience. But, either way, she knew. She could see the scars that littered his arms, the ones he had tried so desperately to cover, and it made her angry. Did she have a real right to be angry? No. She didn’t truly know the boy that was standing in front of her, but she knew enough. She knew enough to know that he shouldn’t feel that kind of pain. From what she had seen, he was funny, caring, and he stood by his friends. He cared for his friends. She didn’t want anyone to know half of what she had been through, what she had felt. And she knew that he had.

“Francis?”

“Yes?”

“Just… thank you.”

He looked bewildered by her words, not knowing what they were for. “For what, Avery?”

“For earlier. Eric. You saw that he was bothering me and you told him off. I never got to thank you for it.”

“Oh… it was no problem. He was being a prick. He kept on advancing towards you when you told him no, and I won't stand by to see that.” He made his way to the kitchen sink, Avery not too far from him, and started to rinse out his empty glass. Avery watched as he did so, closing her eyes shortly after to let them rest for a minute.

“Avery?”

“Yes, Francis?”

“Can you promise me something?” He looked into her eyes, a serious glint inside of them.

“I guess so… what is it?”

“This probably isn’t my place, and I apologize if I offend you in any way. But, just… please stand up for yourself. Okay? There are loads of blokes like Eric, people who will take advantage of you because you are too nice, people who will disregard your rejection of their actions. You have to stand up for yourself. I would hate to see you get hurt because of something like that.”

She was taken aback by what he was saying. She didn’t know how to respond, at least not right now. So she simply nodded her head, casting her eyes downward.

“And thank you for the cake, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. I'm glad.”

Avery’s apartment was a wreck. Various papers and notebooks littered every surface as she tried to find a good sample she could send over to Hughes Magazine. This was a real opportunity, one that needed to be taken seriously. She has the chance to be a published writer, to have something that she had written somewhere in the world for people to see. To say that this was nerve wracking was a major understatement. Avery was sitting in the middle of her living room looking like a mad woman, frantically flipping through notebooks in hopes of finding something that she deemed good enough.

After going through every piece of writing she had, she decided to submit two short stories and a handful of poems. She chose pieces that, she hopes, shows her diversity as a writer. Avery wanted this to be something, just once. She added her CV and all the other required information before attaching the poems and stories at the end of the e-mail, sending it off to their office in London before closing her laptop, pushing every bad thought aside.

As she began to pick up the mess she had made in the process, Avery's phone lit up showing her a message from Tom.

Tom: Hey, is there any chance you could come in early tomorrow? I've found a potential new employee and I would like you to show her around a bit.

Avery: Sure. How much earlier?

Tom: Thirty minutes early will be fine, just need a second opinion on her. She would be starting work soon, if she is decent at everything.

Avery: I'll be there.

Tom: Thank you, Avery :)

"What do you think about the editing?" Harry questions Francis, showing his laptop with the edited photo on the screen. He spent the whole Sunday in front of the computer, trying to finish editing the set his boss needed for an upcoming ad. His eyes were exhausted and his head ached from the hours he spent looking at the monitor screen.

"I like it," Francis says with a shrug, continuing to eat his Ben and Jerry's out of the paper container.

"I need constructive criticism, Frany. Saying you like it is not cutting it anymore." Harry groans, putting his head back to regain composure and stretch his sore neck.

"You know I'm devoted to the numbers.'" Francis replies with a sigh. "I can't give you constructive criticism when I don't understand it."

"It's art. Most of the time you don't have to understand it."

"Why are you not doing your black and white photography? I love it and I know you do too, I'm sure there are some people who would buy it."

"Those “some people” aren't going to pay rent," Harry closes the laptop, realizing Francis really wouldn't be much help here, and layed down on the sofa, his head atop the arm rest. "I wish I could just do that."

"I’d say do it. Do what makes you happy. That's what you always tell me, anyway."

"Yes, but you're different," Harry murmurs, his eyes closed and his forearm shielding them from the sunlight. "And what would I photograph? I don't go out anymore, I barely see James or Emily or Anais anymore. And God, I have a million photographs of you already."

"First of all, you make that sound like a bad thing." Francis replies, before eating another spoon of his ice cream. "Why don't you do a series on Avery?"

"She doesn't like being photographed."

“May I remind you that that's what you do? Take photographs without people noticing, so it's not staged."

"Yes I know, but-" Before Harry can finish his sentence Francis makes his way to Harry's room only to come out a minute later with a large black and white print. Harry remembered that day as if it were yesterday. It was Anais’s birthday party. Francis wasn't well that day so Harry had to take him to the party, he didn’t trust him enough to leave him home alone. He had spent the whole evening making rounds around the house, camera in tow, capturing every guest he could.

The photo in front of him showed Francis in an armchair in Anais’s living room. There was a half empty glass of champagne in his hand and a red balloon tied to his pinky, and at the first glance it almost looked comical. This sad boy with all the balloons, presents, and dancing people around him.

That same night, Harry had gotten absolutely wasted. So, when Francis told him that he wanted to go home, he didn't hold him back. He didn't look at him, not really, not like he should have. Once he had finally made his way back to their flat, he found Francis cutting himself on the bathroom floor and immediately sobered up. They didn't talk while Harry gently patched his friend up, doing so with so much care that it made Francis cry. And they didn't talk while Harry sent Francis to bed before he cleaned the bathroom, blaming himself for everything that had happened in the process.

Despite everything that came after, this was still one of his favorite photographs he had ever taken. The black and white didn't seem dramatic, but natural. He caught Francis without a mask, just Francis. It was safe to say that his best friend despised the whole thing, he didn't like it one bit and Harry was sure that if he hadn't stopped him, Francis would have ripped the print to shreds immediately.

"I really like that print..." Harry mumbles, eyeing the photograph that feels like it was taken so long ago. When he was still so naive and inexperienced, thinking he could just do this his whole life. "But I can't do it. I have to think about earning money, this dream won't take me anywhere."

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Taddy drabble!!!!!

Okay, remember this post from yesterday about how @hockeysometimes and I accidentally created 3 OC tadpoles for the frogs’ senior year? I accidentally ficced. And it got sort of long.

May I present, tadpole number one: Sebastián “Nando” Hernandez!!!! This started because I said, you know what, there should be a baby gay tadpole when Nursey and Dex are seniors and then they love and cherish him like their adopted child. Thus Nando was born. As promised, I’ll make a post telling you more about Nando and his fellow two tadpoles soon. For now, have this sickeningly soft random fluff, in which Nando comes across some gay shit going down at Annie’s between his captain and said captain’s assistant-captain-slash-best-friend.

Nando loves his classes.

He picked his schedule last spring, at the Samwell admitted students day, and, like, okay, he was a little nervous about it, because how are you supposed to pick classes for a major that determines your job for the rest of your life when you haven’t even graduated high school yet?— But. He did a good job. Because his freshman fall semester schedule is the shit.

Tuesdays are the best, and today is Tuesday, so his spirits are high. He gets out of Soc 101 at 10:30, and he has an entire, like, six hours before he even needs to start thinking about hockey practice. Hockey practice is one of the best parts of any day, by the way, because he gets to see his friends.

He can’t believe it. It’s the middle of October, and he still can’t believe it. Walking across Samwell’s main quad after class, he takes it all in. He’s really here. He’s really in college. He’s almost two thousand miles away from home, and he misses Mama and his sisters a whole boatload, but he’s here. He’s in college, and he’s studying sociology, and he’s playing D1 hockey, and he’s not sure he’s ever been happier.

He’s in such a good mood today, actually, that he thinks it necessitates Annie’s. He’s only been at Samwell for two months, but already he’s perfected his order. They make a mocha frappe with cinnamon that’s honestly the drink of the gods.

Okay, he reasons with himself. Annie’s it is. And then homework. Later. But first, Annie’s. He deserves this.

He’s going to gain his freshman fifteen solely because of Annie’s.

And then Dex will kick his ass. Nando isn’t scared of his captain, exactly; he’s been in enough settings with him to know that Dex is a really nice guy, and he’s been instrumental in welcoming Nando to Samwell. But he’s also seen him on the ice, fiercely debating linesmen on bad calls and getting in scuffles and doling out checks to the members of opposing teams with particularly hateful chirps. He’s a great leader. Nando just isn’t so sure he’d want to get on his bad side.

He just. He really wants to impress the seniors, okay? They’re, like, the coolest guys ever.

Nando reaches into his pocket for his phone, but there are no new messages. He checks his thread with his boyfriend, but Nate left him on read at 9:21 this morning and hasn’t gotten back to him yet— which he never used to do, really, not before Nando left for Samwell. He’s trying not to read into it too much. Nate is busy, after all. He’s at U of Arizona, much closer to home, doing big things. He doesn’t have as much time to text, and that’s okay.

Or— at least that’s what he’s been telling himself.

It’s okay. He tucks his phone away. Nate will get back to him eventually. Even though the gaps between his replies have been getting larger… and larger… and larger.

He knew coming to college with a long-distance boyfriend would be hard, but. Jeez.

His team doesn’t know about Nate. Not really. He would be lying if he said that his decision to come play for Samwell wasn’t influenced at least a little by Eric Bittle and the 2016-17 team, being in the news so much for the first openly gay NCAA captaincy. He was reading the stories before he even got his acceptance letter. He’s not sure he’s ever felt more inspired by another hockey player.

And besides, this is Samwell. It’s one of the queerest colleges in the country, on top of the hockey team’s reputation for acceptance. So really, he shouldn’t be afraid to tell his new teammates he’s gay.

It’s just. Hockey is hockey. And Eric Bittle graduated.

He has some surviving memories from, well, an entire childhood of being a queer, Latino hockey player, and it wasn’t a fun time.

He’ll get there. Eventually.

And besides, he tells himself, he isn’t worrying about that today. Today he’s going to Annie’s, and getting a frappe. The sun shines on his face, and the trees are turning every color.

It’s a good day.

*

Nursey loves his boyfriend.

For a number of reasons, but especially right now. He’s about three sweet-talking sentences away from getting Dex to share a bite of his French toast. They’re tucked into the corner booth at Annie’s— their booth, really; they’ve staked a claim to it every time they come here ever since they got back to campus for senior fall. It’s tiny, and barely spacious enough for two 6’2 hockey players to squeeze themselves into, but Nursey sits across from him and their knees press together under the table, and all is right in the world.

“Look, babe,” Nursey says, spreading his hands out on the table. “All I’m saying is, that little crust right there with the powdered sugar—” He points to the bite of toast in question on Dex’s plate. “I’ve got my eye on it.”

Dex rolls his eyes at him. There’s a smile on his freckly face, and in the warm light of the dining room, he’s every autumn color imaginable, fiery red hair to plaid, maroon button-down to amber eyes like pools of sunlight. For the past three years, Nursey spent his entire friendship with Dex trying to train himself not to stare, to rid himself of the wants for a boy he never thought he could have. This summer, that changed. Now he can have him, does have him— so he can look. Why not look?

Dex is a fucking catch.

He’s pointing with his fork toward Nursey’s own plate. All that remains of what once was there are a few whole-grain breadcrumbs. “I don’t know if you’d noticed,” Dex says, “but you had your own food.”

“Will,” Nursey groans. “I’m still hungry. I just want to taste it.”

Dex cuts into his last stack of toasts, and Nursey glues his eyes to them. Annie’s does French toast right— brioche bread with just the right amount of egg wash, pan-fried and then dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with syrup. Nursey is pretty sure his mouth is watering.

And Dex is right. He did have his own food. But—

“It’s not my fault,” Dex continues, between bites of toast, “that you insist on getting hipster toast every time we come in here.”

Nursey puts a hand on his heart, like he’s been shot. “Dexy, avocado toast is part of my aesthetic.”

“Jesus Christ.” Dex sighs. “Why am I dating you?”

Nursey grins, rubbing his foot against Dex’s sneaker under the table. “Because you love me.”

Dex rests his cheek in one hand, and Nursey is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to lean across the table and kiss each of his freckles, one by one. He watches Dex pass judgement over him, eyes lingering on him bemusedly, mouth curving up to the dimple on the left side of his face. For a few seconds, he’s quiet, and Nursey doesn’t break eye contact. He’s in love with that look in Dex’s eyes.

Then, finally, Dex stabs the crust Nursey has been eyeing with his fork, holds it across the table, and announces, “I hate you.”

“I know.” Nursey beams. Through the power of his charm, he’s getting exactly what he wanted. He knew it’d come to this, all along.

Dex feeds him the little nugged of powdered, syrupy crust, and it tastes just as overly sweet as the gesture is, and Nursey has never loved anything more. “Mmmm,” he groans as he swallows. “That shit is delightful. Thanks, baby.”

“You’re a sweet-talker,” Dex mutters, still grinning, as he returns to his plate to finish it off.

“But you fall for it,” Nursey points out. “Every time. So who’s whipped in this arrangement?”

“Both of us,” Dex replies. His cheeks are flushed pink, but his smile remains.

“I tend to agree,” Nursey says, then reaches for his free hand and takes it in his own. He pulls it across the table, then plants a kiss on each knuckle, plus one, two, three of his favorite freckles. Dex’s hand, like the rest of him, is covered in them. Nursey has written enough poems about them to fill a book.

In fact, he maybe feels one coming on right now. He tucks the idea into storage in his brain for later, when he’ll inevitably wind up scribbling all over a notebook in a pile of leaves outside the Haus for two hours before practice.

God, he fucking loves this place.

He presses Dex’s palm to his own face; Dex’s fingers curl into the touch and caress his cheek. “Ah, my Will,” he hums. “Where would I be without my stolen bites of your French toast.”

Dex points his fork at him menacingly. “Don’t even think about it,” he says. “That was your ration for the day. This is my breakfast.”

“Hey!” Nursey beams, still holding his hand to his stubbly cheek. There are callouses all over Dex’s fingers. Before this, before Dex, he didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with a pair of hands. “Did I say anything about asking for another piece?”

“No.” Dex mops up the last of his syrup with the very last piece of his toast. His eyes twinkle like the sunrise as he looks up at Nursey. “But I know you were thinking it.”

Nursey kisses the inside of his palm. “Rude.”

Dex laughs into his hand, smiling from ear to giant ear, and Nursey really fucking loves his boyfriend.

*

Annie’s is crowded.

It always is. Or at least that’s what Nando has inferred from his two months on campus. The line stretches almost, but not quite, to the door. He weighs the merits of long line versus mocha frappe— is it worth it?— but then watches two girls go by him holding their drinks, each with tall stacks of whipped cream atop them, and he decides, yeah. Definitely worth it.

So he waits in line. He should have texted Rhodey to ask if he wanted to come with him, but then again, Rhodey is still probably asleep. He’s pretty sure his roommate-slash-teammate is nocturnal.

The coffee shop is buzzing with students, a sea of maroon Samwell merchandise, groups of friends clustered around tables or piled into booths.

Nando grins at the scene. It’s such a postcard of college. Some are hunched over homework; others scroll through their phones or laptops, and still others are just talking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company. There are art kids, and jocks, and fierce academic types, and— oh, wait— is that Nursey?

Nando squints. Yes, it is! There’s no mistaking that green hat. It sits atop his teammate’s familiar head of undercut curls; Nursey is in the back booth, and he’s— oh! He’s sitting across from Dex.

Nando almost waves at his teammates, but a.) they’re not looking at him, and b.)... something he’s never seen before, he realizes, is happening.

Because the thing is, they’re not looking at him, but they’re not looking at anything else, either. In fact, their eyes are all each other’s, as they sit mere feet apart across the small booth. Dex is resting his cheek in one hand, looking across the table at him, and Nursey is beaming at him, eyes crinkled and face soft, like— like—

— like he’s looking at the love of his life.

Nando widens his eyes. All of a sudden, he feels like he’s seeing something he isn’t supposed to be seeing. Nursey says something to Dex, who rolls his eyes but smiles at the same time. He proceeds to fork something off of his plate and hand the fork across the table to Nursey, who eats the bite of whatever Dex is offering clean off without hesitation.

Nando blinks.

This looks gay.

Really gay.

His theories are confirmed when, a few seconds later, Nursey picks up Dex’s hand and kisses it several times. Nando looks away, lest he catch one of their eyes, but then again, it’s not like either of them seem to be planning to look anywhere but at each other anytime soon. His awkward aversion of his gaze only lasts a second, because when he sneaks a glance back at them, he has to marvel at how soft Dex looks— his cheeks are freckled and pink, and he looks so at ease with Nursey, like he has no other care in the world. It’s an extension of the dynamic Nando has already observed between them— they’re best friends, and he knows this. He just had no idea that they were more than best friends.

Nando pauses in line. Logically, he knew that Nursey was queer. He’s open about it, proud of it, and he gave Nando and the other tadpoles the no homophobic bullshit, this is Samwell, have your teammates’ backs speech on day one of preseason. It was a breath of fresh air for Nando, and he’s sort of been looking up to him ever since.

But Dex?

At the table, Dex has his hand pressed to Nursey’s face, like it’s a prized possession. Nando has never seen that soft smile on his captain before.

“Hey.” Someone nudges him, very lightly, in the backpack from behind. “Dude, you can move up.”

“Oh.” Nando snaps out of it— the line has moved on without him, and he’s left a gaping, empty space in the middle of it. “Sorry,” he says to the person behind him, and then steps forward.

He can still see Nursey and Dex from his new spot in line.

His stomach turns. He misses Nate, watching them together.

His phone still has no new messages, just Read 9:21 AM.

But here are Nursey and Dex, in plain sight at Annie’s, canoodling— there is no better word for it— with each other, being a couple, despite all the odds, all the stereotypes, everything everyone thinks hockey players are supposed to be. Here are his captains, the team leaders, seniors, sharing something that even in this brief glance Nando knows is precious beyond words.

He wonders, for a split second, if he should say something, the next time he sees them. Tell him he looks up to them. That he’s grateful to feel so safe here.

But watching them with their breakfast, he decides against it. He’s seeing this before they’ve chosen to reveal it to him, and that should happen on their own terms.

Nursey throws his head back in a laugh. Dex grins like he’s just won the Stanley Cup.

No, Nando won’t say anything. This is something too precious to intrude on.

For now, he smiles, and he waits in line for his frappe.

[honeybunchcalum]

𝒲𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉- 𝒥𝑜𝒽𝓃 𝐵  (part of ptersparkers writing challenge)

I’m a 5sos girl at heart, and this song really fit this fic, so I had to 

Summary: John B promises to help Winnie learn to let loose, the process of which involves skinny dipping, a bucket list, and some really good advice (and inevitable flirting, of course). 

Pairing: John B x OC

Warnings: language for sure, and some nudity 

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: HUGE thank you and credit to @alexandracheers for editing this fic and giving me feedback! She also has a fic for @ptersparkers writing challenge that you should check out!

The main character is based a lot on myself, so for all you borderline uptight and academic overachiever readers, this one’s for you to relate to! 

I also aged the pogues up a few years, so all the characters are 18/19.

GIF credit: @sharmans​

“What would you do if you weren’t afraid of everything?” 

The sun grazed over facial features as it set, blurring some and sharpening others. Yet another day of summer gone, but the opportunity for a hot summer night followed the horizon. 

“God, I don’t fucking know, everything and anything! Also, I don’t appreciate that generalization, I’m not afraid of everything,” she trailed off.

“I know you know,” John B said while flopping down onto the towel that he had just finished smoothing out on the sand. “There’s never been a time when Winnie doesn’t have the answer to something… especially when it’s about herself,” he mumbled the modifying words as to make sure she didn’t hear, but she did. 

A few seconds later there was a handful of sand sprinkled throughout his curls as she laughed.

Winnie was a “conscientious and goal-driven girl” as every professor of hers had described her. As she’d come to realize, those words are just the nice way of saying “uptight over-achiever.” 

She wished she could be something outside of that. Outside of a ‘certificate of achievement,’ or a picture perfect transcript. Do something for once and make a decision or mistake for herself. That’s what she had come down here this summer to do after all, right?

“Fine, then I shall rephrase.” John B shook the revenge-filled sand out of his hair and asked, “What are you afraid of?”

Knowing that would be an easy question for his borderline-uptight friend to answer, he quickly added a condition, “and not the standard ‘failing a paper, looking bad, or not being at the top of whatever-the-fuck class you’re in’ fear.”

“Well, you’ve basically got all my bases covered with those,” she replied. John B raised an eyebrow at the mention of covering her bases. 

“You’re so annoying,” slipped out of her mouth accompanied by the obligatory eye-roll. She laid down on her own towel not too far from John B (certainly more gracefully than he had) and looked up at the purpling sky. 

The beach was beginning to empty as all the vacationers returned to their rental homes. It was her and John B’s favorite part of the day. They basically had the whole beach to themselves aside from the late-night skinny dippers, but they weren’t due for another few hours. 

It was peacefully silent for what felt like hours, just the two of them side by side on the towels that John B always kept in the van for spontaneous beach trips like this. 

Winnie started to drift into her daydreams of her future--walking down crowded city streets to the subway in a fashionably professional outfit on her way to the courtroom for her breakthrough case. Then she flipped to her daydream of writing in a cozy coffee shop. Writing about anything and everything--even the hazel-eyed boy beside her and how he just lived, nothing more or less (and sometimes without thinking). But that was just John B, and she felt the need to document it beautifully somehow, and make sure she’d remember him just as he is. She knew she couldn’t get it more right than he was then, right next to her, just as he had been all summer. 

“So, what’s your answer?”

“What?” Winnie had already forgotten his question, and was definitely startled. 

“To my question... I saw ya thinking there,” John B chuckled and looked up at the sky as well, “unless you were off in your lawyer daydreams again.”

“Well maybe I was, but I also have an answer for you. I can think about multiple things at once, y’know?”

“I know a little bit too well, Winnie. You’re always lost in your thoughts about something,” he replied while playfully touching her arm. 

She started to feel a weight on her chest and in her throat, first off because John B was now staring directly at her, and more prominently because she knew her answer all too well, but didn’t want to say it. What if John B didn’t understand, or if it sounded dumb?

“John Booker Routledge,” she spoke strongly, “I am afraid of being ordinary, being stuck and not having the opportunities to do enough fun shit while I’m young, and also worrying too much about all of these things at the same time.” 

By the end of her proclamation, Winnie was in tears. 

“It sounds...s-so stupid,” she was laughing through some sobs now, “like I’m the one in control of my own life, a-and I can’t get it right. I want to be young and do fun shit, but I-I-just can’t because I feel like-like I know better than to knowingly do something stupid.” Talking through things, even while she was choking out sobs, had always made everything she was feeling make sense. 

“Look, you hang out with young and dumb every day,” John B laughingly pointed at himself, “and while I am a bit offended by your ‘ordinary’ fear-”

Winnie cut him off with a sob-filled, “I’m so sorry, John B, I didn’t-”

“I’m kidding, Winnie. I’m getting to my point here…” he reached out and held her shoulders. 

“...which is that you don’t know how to let go. And you’re already not ordinary, at least to me. And I can tell ya that JJ, Kie and Pope will tell you the same. I wouldn’t have been hanging out with you every night if you were.”

John B punched her arm to try to clear the seriousness in the air. “C’mon, you don’t really think I’d hang out with someone ordinary and boring, right?”

“Right,” Winnie replied.

“What was that, can you say it again?”

Dripping in sarcasm, Winnie repeated herself, “John B, you’re right.”

“Thank you.”

He turned away from her for a second and glanced at the purple sky that draped over the ocean, seeming to string words together in his mind. 

After a few seconds he started, “Coming from me, I feel like you can’t plan everything out. Some shit just happens--shit that you can’t make happen, Winnie, no matter how much of a control freak you are.” 

John B was right, she was a bit of a control freak; she’d admit it. 

“Like, do you think I was trying to make JJ stealing 25k from a drug dealer happen?” 

Now he could chuckle at the memory, and Winnie at the secondhand telling of the story since it seemed so outrageous. 

“Everything can’t be picture perfect, Winnie, a lot of things are messy” he was nervously fidgeting, which was very unlike him; John B was always so sure of himself. 

“And unexpected, like this--” he raised his hand and flung a clump of sand at Winnie.

She instinctively scoffed, but then laughed. At least it derailed the overly-serious energy that John B created. 

“You know, I was really starting to take you seriously, John B.”

“Ouch, Winnie,” he cracked a smile, “Well I’m glad you tried because it was part of my life-changing advice.”

“Which is…?” 

“You have to do what you feel is best for you right now. I’ve always told you, you need to be who you are now.”

“And throwing sand at me felt right to you in that moment?”

“Yes. But you have to admit that it’s good advice. My dad would always tell me, and it just stuck with me. So now, I relay it to you.”

Winnie let the words mellow around her mind for a few seconds. It was really great advice, especially for someone like her. She let her eyes scan the beach around her. She had an amazing landscape that was totally memory-worthy right in front of her. And more importantly, she had the time. The time to be here, in the moment, with her best friend. 

Although she had only been on the island for a few weeks, Winnie knew there was something special about John B. They were complete opposites in a way--an uptight law student from the city, and an easygoing surfer from the island. But they complemented each other: while she may have read more, he had seen more. And that’s what made them such a good pair.

They could both figure anything out, whether it was Winnie perfecting John B’s college essays and finance records for after his gap year, or the trademark stories of John B escaping trouble on the island. 

“Another philosophy I live by is that you should try everything once,” John B started. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard that from JJ too,” she smiled, remembering the times in the van that JJ spilled his life philosophies while slightly under the influence. 

“Also, at the next kegger, you are definitely hanging with me, I’ll teach you how to have some fun,” John B added, as Winnie agreed, looking forward to it.

-------

After a few seconds, Winnie asked, “So it’s about 8:25, what are we doing right now? And what have you not tried?”  

“I see you took my advice to heart. There’s not too much honestly,” he nervously laughed, reminiscing about his countless long nights. “Your wish is my command on this lovely Thursday night. Whatever is on your, what I assume, color-coded bucket list,” he teasingly continued.

Winnie playfully scoffed. “Actually, it’s just highlighted, Mr. Routledge. Anyway.... I choose skinny dipping.” She spoke with a glow in her eyes and no hesitation, maybe she had planned out this moment for a while, waiting for this exact opportunity. But that’s one thing she wouldn’t admit.

John B’s jaw practically dropped to the ground. His eyes widened; she’d managed to pick the one thing he didn’t have experience with, which is impressive. 

The two had always poked fun at the nightly ocean skinny dippers; he never thought Winnie had the desire to partake in it. 

He ran his hand through his curls in an attempt to conceal his jitters. He would do anything for Winnie, and this is what she wanted. He couldn’t lie to himself--he would only consider something like this with her. As much as she trusted him, John B trusted Winnie. 

“No prob, sure, let’s do it,” the brunette slightly rambled. 

Winnie undoubtedly picked up on his fault of confidence. “Are you sure? We definitely don’t have to… I mean driving with the windows down is also pretty high up on my list.”

“Yeah,” he flashed a reassuring smile. One full of serenity and comfort. He pulled his t-shirt off as Winnie did the same, along with her shorts. The two awkwardly looked at each other, as if searching for each other’s cue to continue. Winnie gave John B an up-and-down glance, to which he knowingly turned around with an, “oh, yeah,” so she could further undress. 

It was dark enough on the shore now for the teens to be unrecognizable, but Winnie ensured that the towels they were currently wrapped in would be waiting for them right in front of the tide lines, in case the need for a quick escape dawned. 

There was an unspoken promise between them that lustful stares would not be exchanged, but quick glimpses would be inevitable. With that, towels were dropped, and John B started the countdown to rush into the water. Before “one,” Winnie already took off running towards the calm waves. 

By the time she was up to her knees, she was yelling, “Holy shit! That’s cold! Oh my God!” 

Seconds later John B was yelling the same before they both had dipped underwater to get used to the temperature. They came up from underwater with their faces almost inches apart. Their eyes locked for a moment. Nervous laughter followed as Winnie moved backwards, not remembering to keep her arm over her chest. 

“Shit, uh, sorry,” John B looked away from Winnie.

“It’s okay,” she giggled, “I don’t really care. I also don’t think there’s really a way to prevent that.”

Within a second, John B had started a splash war, and the rare serious energy dissipated. 

Ten minutes in the cold night ocean was more than enough. Luckily, no late-night walkers stumbled upon their antics. Now they sat on the sand peacefully wrapped in their towels. Winnie cuddled into John B’s chest. It felt as though time had stopped in her mind, yet the ocean continued, as did the waves and the heartbeat of her best friend both pounding in her ears. John B was warm, sweet, and wise. Especially now, with his curls a perfectly-laid sopping mess and his chest so comforting, the warmth took over. Winnie sought to ingrain this feeling into her mind. 

John B admired Winnie as the towel adorned her chest and the dull glow of the night slightly illuminated her face. He couldn’t deny it--she was very pretty. 

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked down towards the girl on his chest. “I knew you could let go, and not give a fuck, you don’t need me, Winnie.”

“No you did not know that,” she protested, “you’d told me I didn’t know how to let go like, 10 minutes ago.”

“Ok, yeah I did say that. But… would an uptight Winnie suggest skinny dipping, get me to do it with her, and also play it cool when I accidentally saw her boob?” 

Winnie thought about it: John B was right. In the moment, without overthinking, she did know how to let go and do whatever felt right to her at the time. 

“No…” she responded. 

“So you’re not uptight! I proved it to you, and I didn’t even have to argue with you about it-- HA!” John B retorted, pulling away from Winnie so he could now look her directly in the eye. 

“I guess, yeah. But you did go in the ocean with me, naked, for me to get to this realization.”

“Were you just trying to get me naked?” John B jokingly gasped. 

Doubled down in laughter, Winnie managed to respond, “No, definitely not, but you did it willingly, which was a win.”

“Well, I can say I did it.” John B seemed content, and he truly meant it. You should try everything once, right?  

“I’ve got the van radio and windows rolled down and ready for us, if you so desire.” 

“Why of course, Mr. Routledge, my prince charming, please fire up our carriage.” Winnie smiled, which was a repeated pattern throughout the whole night. The tears from earlier were forgotten, with aches from smiling too much replacing them.

They practically jumped into John B’s van, scantily clad, with Winnie’s hand already on the radio knob. She turned it to a station playing a summer song that would eventually become overplayed within the next few months, but that was ok. Maybe better, even, since each inevitable time this song was on, it would remind her of tonight.

Tonight. He’d truly seen her as a person, physically and emotionally now, with ease. He saw her as someone more than just an uptight student, and she realized that maybe she wasn’t always uptight, after all. He was willing to put aside his apprehensions and trust her, just as she’d come to trust him.

With the windows rolled down, and the radio almost unbearably loud, Winnie felt bliss. True and uninhibited, like this is what she was meant to be doing with John B, at this moment in time. 

Winnie’s eyes couldn’t resist scanning John B’s frame next to her. The way his calloused hands gripped the steering wheel, the flex of his arms, his wet caramel hair regaining its curl, and most notably, the smooth and tanned skin of his chest. He was damn gorgeous. And now gazing over at her. 

“Shit, he noticed me staring,” she thought. But he didn’t seem fazed or embarrassed by her gaze at all. He flicked her the trademark John B smile. “Like what ya see?” He gave an eyebrow raise.

“Oh, shut up,” she spit back and turned the radio up even further, starting to scream the lyrics to the catchy song. She felt the wind blow in her hair as the roads she drove down each day gained a newfound beauty.

-------

“I’m beat,” Winnie exasperatedly stated once John B pulled the van up to the Chateau. 

“Yeah me too, that’s enough ‘young and dumb’ for tonight. You don’t mind sharing the pull-out with Kie, right? I kinda forgot she was staying over tonight...” 

“Yeah, no prob,” Winnie responded. She really didn’t mind sharing with Kie, but secretly wished John B would invite her to his bed for the night.

She opened the screen door of the house, and after she got ready for bed, practically flopped on the pull-out couch. 

Kie groggily groaned, “Ugh, Winnie don’t do that, I’m tryna sleep. Why are you back so late anyway?” 

“Sorry, beach night with JB,” Winnie whispered, only to realize that the girl beside her was already asleep again. Winnie was practically shaking from her excitement as she looked back on her night, especially after John B threw a “g’night Winnie” her way.

------

Winnie knew she had slept too late when she’d woken up without Kie next to her, probably already at the Wreck for the breakfast shift. She stood up and made her way to the bathroom, peeking around to make sure that only John B was in the house and Pope or JJ hadn’t made a surprise visit. 

She’d wanted to make a move last night. Especially when he’d caught her staring. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror to psych herself up: it was now or never.

She rounded the corner to John B’s room and knocked on the doorframe, since he always left the door open. John B sat up and gave a raspy, “hey, Winnie.”

She cut to the chase, as she sat down next to him on his bed. “I think I overthought something I shouldn’t have last night.”

“Yeah, yeah, shoot, what is-”

Winnie cut him off with a kiss that was well-received. His lips molded to hers as his hand moved to her cheek and then to her hair. He pulled away. 

“Funny enough, that’s something that’s actually been on my bucket list, too.” 

“Well, I’m happy we’re efficient in crossing things off our list,” Winnie smiled into another kiss, now being the one to pull away. 

She was on her way to living the life she wanted.  

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

Tagging some of my mutuals: @noshamenion​ @darkrosekuwonu​ @cccatz​ @poguelifesurfshop​ @maybankiara​ @tothemoonmikey​ @singledadharrington​ @kindapinkskies​ @outerbanqs​

[alphaofdarkness]

not me here for the oc ask ! can't wait to answer the ones you asked me, tomorrow i have my exam and then i shall live again haha ! but now i'll ask you 1, 2, 17, 18, 19, 20 and 31 — i know, it is a lot ( you don't have to do them all 💕) , but i really want to know something more about your wonderful babies and Dany ofc ! I missed her sm during this semi-hiatus 🤧💕💕💕 hope you're doing fine, sending you lots of love 💞💕💘

@carmenio Edgy!! 🥺 so happy to hear from you! ✨ I love these kinds of asks, especially on my many, many OC babies! I hope these answers are good and interesting to thee! I’ll present more info on Dany to some way, some how cause I love her 😭💖

I have gone and included the other questions you asked as well! 🤗 Let’s dive in! 😳

1. Gone and Answered Here ! UwU

2. Do you have a personal favorite among your OCs?

Personal favorite is often shown in the one I draw the most lol, which for a long time was Danielle LWW, but just because she was also my wolfsona at the time. After I made my own personal one I think I went onto Sam for a good while, also eventually going to Dany from Bsd!

So a tie between two beautiful girls, Sam is definitely my favorite LWW Oc, she is just precious and the one I hold the most and most always feel terrible and bad when I put her through it TM. 

Also Dany is my self insert, U//w//U, she has definitely allowed me to slowly self love and allow me to appreciate myself, especially the parts of me I didn’t think to much about or consider so appealing, I think? She has definitely been changing gradually into more of myself since I first came up with her almost 2 years ago! Watch me slowly knock her down to my height of 4′9″, let her have her 3 inches for another year maybe lol.

My dearest Atsushi agrees lol ✨🐯

17. Any OC OTPs? 

👀 lol yesss~ so many and so many crack ships too, which I'll answer next 😂

I’ll just go on and list them off, plenty more of them but~:

DanyJay

SoraYama

LidiaTom

AlikLucy

IsabelleKayla

AlexanderIsabelle

DarkwolfmonJatomon

JatamonRaiwolfmon

EarthamonHounmon

HumaamonWolverimon

And lastly TakaSam is the one I have definitely drawn and thought of the most! They are the top OTP and just best trope of Childhood Friends to Lovers trope, also filling in that trope of Oblivious to both of them but everyone else 🙄. While SoraYama may have been the OG Couple in my story, my love and warmth for TakaSam is unmatched TwT.

It is wild cause I always draw anguish between them as could-have-been-lovers-had-it-not-been-for-death, but recently been drawing them purely happy and content. Total sweethearts, the love everyone wants, excluding possibility of being old friends or not!

18. Any OC crackships?

L o l, I never seem to focus on the main couples because of this specific thing.

I’ll again just go off in list an maybe add a trope or something to get an idea of them:

DanyYama: Rivals, Constantly arguing, and can be petty as heck, but oh the potential and just possibility of opening up after the traumaTM 👀 also the couple that is always in your face about being in a relationship.

DanySora: Sparing partners, the sass and stubbornness, BiPan solidarity 👀

DanyLidia: Pure, wholesome, best friends and so much hugging and lifting from the tol to smol, the nature love vibes

SamJay: Wholesome, soft, healing together from traumaTM, protectiveness, also their Digimon were lovers and married in their previous life, what does that make us? 😳

SamDany: Mostly sibling-like relationship, but damn they have that Sun and Moon tropes?! How can you not possibly ship them!

SamLula: Shy and Confident, Bisexual/Lesbian solidarity 💕✨

JaySora: Opposite of the DanyYama tropes, why are our partners constantly arguing, can they please stop, pure and soft together.

DanyTaka: Digimon Au specifically, Oh you and I are the voice of the revolution? We are rallying up the troops together? Oh boi my Digimon feels love for yours, am I falling for you or are we falling together? Depression buddies but also each others hope and spirit boost ;;w;;

Any of the Warriors with the Sins: A whole lo t of mess, and just not healthy ... but I can already seen fandom people sayin g otherwise~

LustWrath: Spicy, no strings attached kind of deal.

WrathEnvy: ...Oof um, not healthy, kind of manipulative, we are devils there is nothing but toxic vibes.

PrideWrath: Rulers, King and Queen vibes, Yeah we are toxic for each other, f*** off.

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

Definitely Darkwolfmon! I am sure I explained in the first question why, but again I consider her to be that other half of me, the part of me I never discovered or the parts that essentially fill in the gaps within me. She is my precious partner Digimon and has honestly come a long, long way since I first created her. I believe sometime in 2009-2010, so almost 11-12 years since. She was the first ever OC of mine and is one I hold closest too in my heart.

For the longest time, even too now, I have always wanted her to just manifest at my side. Go on this journey of life together. While she might not be physically here like my child-self would want, she is still in my stories, my imagination, my inspirational drive. I think that is definitely more than enough, I don't know where or who I would be without having created her. I probably wouldn’t have a whole tale of OC’s and stories to tell if it wasn't for her. 

I am more than grateful and thankful that I am who I am because of this lovely Oc of mine. I can only hope to have her at my side for the rest of my days!

20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?

Most, if not all, my OC’s can sing! Their voices and tones vary, to which I cannot give a straight answer on how I headcanon most of their voices right now ^^; I will say that Danielle has a British accent to her voice as well as Spanish speak, and Sora has a Russian accent to her voice, so may be just lightly deep, but not to much.

I will definitely go with my Bsd Oc/Self Insert Danielle Mika Mason, however! Because I have gone and done a thing on how she would speak in her Japanese and English Dub! Other than me also being her voice, her Japanese VA would be Yui Ishikawa, same VA of the queen herself, Mikasa 💕 English VA would be Barrett Wilbert Weed, with an English accent, good Veronica from the Heathers! You can have a listen to her here in this post! 

Dany is meek when it comes to her singing, she will often be caught humming and softly singing something, but quickly tends to stop around others. She is often back and forth with how she sounds and often shuts down when she hears someone she considers better than her. She just needs some encouragement and a gentle push from someone she really cares about. When she does feel the push and genuineness from someone she will sing her heart out. But of course prefers to sing for only that one special person~ can ya guess~ 🐯

31.  Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really).

Oh boi! I literally have moodboards to add to this! I pick Samantha, or Sam! 

She would totes have a Tumblr blog, and Instagram! You always look forward to see what she post and just feel an instant calmness and warmth when you see it! She is always tagging her things appropriately, a soft and warm spring like layout that is shades of yellows, golds, orange, white; an occasional blue and teal as well! She would reblog anything of her aesthetic, golds, yellows, dance and ballet related things (may even post videos or poses of herself in practice and dance related things), cafe shops, sweets and desserts, warm night lights, cats, lots and lots of cats and felines of all shapes and sizes! Her best friend/boyfriend, Takaru always cameos in her stories and posts 💖

She would also reblog or spread awareness of any issues happening in the world, marking them and making her own voice heard as well. In spur moments, you may see her not tag things, but will likely go back to name things accordingly. She would also reblog anything of Bi Pride too!

28. Your most dangerous OC? 

Hmmm,,, my most dangerous Oc, I am taking the notion that they are just plain dangerous and likely of evil intent in their actions. Because plenty of my Oc’s on their own are dangerous in their own right, such as the Legendary Wolf Warriors, who have a great power at their paws. They can be destructive in their actions if they lose control or use it for the wrong intentions, which they wouldn't do of their free will. 

I will say Danielle and Sam are the strongest of the seven, because of their powers of Darkness and Light, respectively. Their souls created the others, so the other Warrior’s power does not match theirs. They can definitely be lethal together if used for the wrong reasons or if they are under the control of a Human or Deadly Sin.

Which leads me to say that the most dangerous of my OC’s with the worst intentions and evil thought processes that makes them dangerous is likely the Deadly Soul Sin Pride, or Mikka Penelope King/Pride as her solid name goes. 

She is definitely the most sinister of the seven sins, even worse than Wrath, who you may figure would be the worst. She has a calculating mind and is very precise in her actions and ways of manipulation. She has a poison within her veins that is just as deadly, capable of blinding others or even killing without remorse or care. While she may be a ghost like entity in my stories, a person/digimon holder in my Digimon College Au, she has enough power to influence people to fall under pride and vanity in the most dangerous level possible, heck even possess them if she wishes. That makes her stronger, as well as the other sins. Does not matter if she is dead or fades away for a while, her influence remains and if it does, than she can exist for a long as she desires.

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure

Lol I saw cinnamon roll and instantly had a list of ocs ready, honestly any child OC I have is instantly a cinnamon roll and to good and put for this world, please treat them all kindly!

Current top Oc’s that come to mind are Haruko Mason-Nakajima, along with their nameless sister/pup! They are the sweetest babies ever and love them so much. Too good and pure, especially nameless pup with her love for tigers; she wants to grow up and be like her sibling and papa 🥺🥰  You can see the post on them here!

Next up is my precious flamey boi named Alik Azure Mizuhara! A next gen. LWW, son of Sora and Yamato! A little sightless boi with the softest heart and warmest empathy for others. Very much like his mother in likeness and pure curiosity of the world’s secrets and tales. His father worries for him a lot, but gradually learns to trust in his ability to guide himself. Don’t worry too much about him, he is very smart and knows how to care and guide himself!

Thank you so much for the time and questions you asked me Edgy! I had so much fun with these and gave me a chance to gush about my dearest OC’s! I do hope you find them of interest! 🤗🥺🥰

May your day be beautiful and amazing!! 🥰✨💖

[smg4andbeetlejuicefanatic]

My thoughts about TETOCUIS

-“So George and Harold make comic books IN SPAAAAAAAACE!! But they had a mean ol principal IN SPAAAAAAAAACE!!” This theme is the best one so far.

-The way Cap saved the boys from FLUSHER’S Ant-and-the-Aardvark-style suck current and looked down at it angrily was absolute perfection. It got even better when he saluted to them, as if he knew he might not make it.

-When I saw the FLUSHER sneak peak and it ended with that explosion, I knew the boys would be upset. This was the first time I’ve heard them cry and I felt so bad. I’m disappointed that they didn’t hug Cap when they found out he was alive tho, they needed it.

-Krupp in a dress is possibly the greatest thing this show has given us so far (besides the second bullet point, ofc)

-Melvin’s rapping was 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

-I honestly wish that Melvin had stayed a prisoner instead of becoming the Biglyans’ king. It would’ve been REALLY nice to see his reaction to George, Harold, and the Misfarts saving him not because they had to, but because they wanted to. They said that friendship is more important than [insert rest of cosmicops quote here cause I don’t remember it], and actually kind of considered Melvin to be their friend, and I feel like if he’d stayed a prisoner and got rescued, he would’ve realized that the people he thinks are against him actually somewhat care for him, and that could’ve led to a gradual redemption (cause I don’t think Melvin’s gonna get redeemed all at once, it’ll likely take a little time).

-I’m not quite sure how I feel about the plot twist of the Cosmicops being real. What I AM sure of however is that that purple blob Warply is the most annoying piece of shit I’ve ever seen. Why did they create him? He serves NO purpose, not even comic relief. The Cosmicops should’ve let him stay kidnapped. I hope we don’t see him again.

-The Utopiqua episode was cool and sad. Sad cause of how the adults had to live and cool cause of the Blunderpants vibes. I kinda wish that we could’ve seen Alien!George and Alien!Harold’s parents, I really wonder what they would’ve been like.

-The episode where Krupp woke up from cryosleep too early would’ve been PERFECT for an Edith debut. She could’ve snuck onto the ship to look around just before Krupp woke up and he could’ve hung out with her instead of waking up the boys just to be a jerk. And there could’ve been a different villain. In my opinion, Dressy being the villain was kind of like a repeat of the Vimpire episode and it was underwhelming.

-Speaking of Edith, the alien that tried to make contact with POOPSIE in season 3 kinda looked like her alien form (with all the tentacles), and that alien seemed important, so it’s kind of disappointing that he didn’t show up at all. I hope that if there’s another space season, we’ll get to see him (watch him be Edith’s brother or something 🤣).

-It took three months to get to Melvin to rescue him from the Biglyans. If theee months passed for them in space, how much time passed on Earth? Tbh, it’s terrifying to think about...

-I wasn’t looking when Fitzgibbons was revealed to be a Littleite in disguise so I’m kinda confused about that 😐

-Going off of my theory that several years must’ve passed on Earth while everyone spent three months rescuing Melvin, I have another theory that the reason that Piqua was taken over my Melvin things when everyone got back from space is cause while these “several years” on Earth passed, Melvin’s parents got really anxious and stuff from not seeing or being able to contact their son for so long, so they created a temporary Melvin to fill their child-sized gap until he got back. But since Temporary!Melvin was only, well, temporary, he knew that as soon as the real Melvin got back, he’d be discarded; so he turned evil and took over Piqua, creating other Melvins to serve him so he’d never be discarded. And the big Melvin statue we see is a statue of Temporary!Melvin in all his Statue-of-Liberty-esque glory. I think i just created a new oc-

-The part of the season finale where the boys went back in time to fix Piqua was super confusing. The school spaceship disappeared, so does the whole season just cease to exist now? Also, if they’ve already gone back to Earth, what’s gonna happen in the next season? Are they gonna go back to space? Maybe the alien from season 3 tries to make contact again and they go back up there to see what’s going on?

-I still don’t see the point in making this a whole new thing instead of just adding it on to TETOCU. It honestly doesn’t make sense to me.

[chimswae]

Untold Bonus Part 3

Foreword:

Some stories are better left unsaid.I couldn’t change anything for the world, although the fame part of this industry is tough to handle.Do i have a life? Yes I have my fans.Do i have friends? Yes the members that I cherish. Do i have love? No I have to let go.Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow. But do i have any tomorrow?

Pairing: Jimin x OC (Other characters: BTS, OCs, Lee Taehwan)

Genre: Idolau, Fluff, Romance, Father!Au

Word Count: 2,324

Author Note: I totally forget to finish update Untold! forgive me ;; This is an old story of mine i think i wrote it in 2017, so please ignore my clicheness and the excessive usage of clicheness~ that makes u cringe haha

You can check full masterlist below :)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Part 3

 Although their camel tour ended a little comically, everyone had fun. Hoseok on the other hand was salty the whole day because of the poop incident. As soon as they reached their hotel, Hoseok spent at least two hours in the bathroom alone taking super long bath just to get rid of the smell or whatever he thought it was. He claimed it was to stabilize his mental state after the horrifying event.

 Hoseok could be a little too dramatic sometimes, no one could stop that guy.

 Leaving Hoseok with his delusional thought, others went to get dinner at nearby restaurant and bought takeaways food for him to savor later on. Enjoying the night city view, the stars sparkle in the night sky.

 “I love the city when it shuts down” Jimin whispers.

 Yeoul smiled upon hearing that low and raspy voice of his, so enticing. They both strolled the parks pedestrian pathways following others from behind silently. The streets was empty, there were minimal number of people around and most of them were couples. The emptiness was strange and magnificent.

 “This is perfect” she squished their hand tighter.

In front of them, there were Taehyung with his cameras and his loyal assistant Kim Namjoon, his eyes fixated on his gadgets. These two guys sometimes stopped in the middle of their walk to take good picture and admiring them afterwards. Or ended up bickering over Vante’s photos.

 Maknae and Jin on the other side were busy scanning the city and finding good spots to shop, though there were fewer shops opened past 11. The couple did not give up on whatever they were planning to buy, more like souvenirs.

 Taehwan and Yoongi went back earlier than them since they wanted to catch up their sleep, with that they offered to bring Minyeol together. Poor Minyeol being dragged around by the adults. Not to mention, they still had to feed loner Jung Hobi, that guy must be starving.

 Yeoul and Jimin took their time to enjoy this night stroll exchanging funny stories or stealing glances. Being with Jimin taught Yeoul how to swoon him with a simple flirt and playful kisses. She was taught well.

 “Baby..Let’s ditch them” he tugged on Yeoul arm preventing her to move.

 “Are you crazy? They will flip out” raising her eyebrows with a questionable look, she watched Jimin took his phone typing something in his phone.

 Jimin grinned “Done. I notify them in our Kakaotalk group,so lets go” he pecked her lips, intertwining their hand together. Yeoul could only smile at his randomness and followed him wherever he wished to go. Anywhere with Jimin is everywhere she wanted to be.

 Like a flash the couple disappeared from their vicinity for their own oh-not-so-romantic midnight tour. Jin and Jungkook had so much sense in them that they did not even care when they left unlike someone who insisted of following those two. Another reason how they ended in Morocco anyways, Kim Taehyung really need to stop pursuing different career in his life. The preferred V and Vante for now.

 Please don’t turn him into Varazzi or something.

 ------------------------

 There sitting side by side, two pure soul enjoying each other company under dark sky accompanied by the heat from the bonfire across them. Being drawn by the warmth of their body heat, Yeoul snuggled in Jimin’s embrace smiling as he rested his chin on top of her head.

 The fire glimmered and gleamed, its warmth drawn people in creating an atmosphere for sharing and making memories. As the night grows, they wished to linger around just a little longer in the warmth and contentment around the fire.

 Everything about tonight was perfect.

 “Aren’t you tired?” he was the one who first broke the silence between them.

 Jimin felt Yeoul shifted a little in his embrace and soon he heard she replied “Tired of what? You? That is impossible.. I prefer to cling onto you for the rest of my life” she teased while wrapping her arm around his waist tighter.

 “You cannot be tired of me. My charms are overflowing” he gazed down into her dark orbs. A pair of eyes that never failed to draw him in into this crazy world. World with unspeakable love. World that fills with hope. World that fills with happiness.

 If she were to list down her weakness when it came to Jimin, his gaze would definitely on the list. In fact, that’s her utmost weakness.

 “Aren’t you being a little over confident right now Park Jimin-ssi?” she ran her thumb over his lips, stroking it softly.

 “I don’t mind if it is you I am trying to win over” caressing the back of his hand along Yeoul’s soft cheeks, Jimin closed the gap between them and locking her into a long endearing kiss. A kiss that he wished to give everyday.

 Their lips move just perfectly in sync following their rapid heartbeat. He stroke over her back in a light touch that sent tingles in her heart. Every time their lips touched the spark ignite anew. Yeoul placed her palm upon his chest over his heart and felt it strong steady beat. The kiss deepened as she could feel with every stroke of his tongue latching onto hers.

 They broke the kiss to catch a deep breath “You are irresistible Park Jimin” Yeoul mumbled against his lips.

 “I am sorry. You have to deal with it until death do us part” nuzzling her face, Jimin chuckled softly.

 “I don’t mind” this time Yeoul was the one who initiate their second round. Locking her arm around his neck tight, she pulled him down for another kiss. Who knows a kiss with Jimin can be addicting? Well Yeoul had her whole life to deal with it.

 ----------------------

 It was time to get back to reality. Everyone was physically ready to be back in Korea but not mentally. They will be missing Morocco for sure. Nonetheless, thanks to Kim Taehyung unexpected plan Yeoul and Jimin stays in Morocco was extra fun than they expected. Creating new memories with their loved one especially Bangtan, Taehwan and Minyeol, it was beyond perfect.

 Boarding the plane on time, everyone got into their seat. First class seat as they said, but Jungkook was stuck with Jin for the whole journey, how unfortunate. He liked his hyung but sometimes he’s a little too bubbly for someone at his age. Considering he is in the hyung line, Jungkook felt he had slowly shifted toward the maknae line.

 Welcome aboard Kim Seokjin!

 Even before the plane took off, Jin insisted to sit on the aisle and made Jungkook stay in the middle. They had no idea who would take the window seat but scratch that, he hoped that person wouldnt snore that much.

 Jungkook eyes wandered at the direction of their seat and noticed the window seat was already occupied. He couldn’t get a full view of the person but he’s sure it was a girl. So, he sank in his seat carefully not to startle the girl whom seemed engross with her reading. She had earphone plugged in both of her ears got him less anxious to sit behind a stranger some more a girl.

 The older boy came few minutes later with a triumph grin plastered across his face, more like mocking Jungkook for sitting beside a girl.

 Maknae grunted under his breath feeling unfair as he sent death glare at Jin’s way “If it weren’t for you……” Jin dumbfounded look was even annoying.

 As the plane was ready for take off, Jungkook stole a glance at the girl beside him. He admired her long eyelashes, and her soft fluffy cheeks which again reminded him Jimin’s puffy one. Her fingers were beautiful and those accessories that she wore fitted perfectly around it. He tore his gaze from examining her feature even more like a creep. Jungkook had no idea why was he so nervous when the girl beside him showed no interest to start a conversation even a simple hi.

 You are so stupid Jungkook. He grimaced.

 The first hour of the journey, Jungkook had decided to pay all his attention on the games in his phone. His mind sometimes was too wild and he tended to over thinking too. The girl snapped the book closed as she stifled her yawn, stretching her aching muscle.

 She loved window seat since she had more space for herself and most importantly she didn’t have to deal with strangers on plane. Engaging into unimportant conversation was one thing, but she hated people who snore in the plane.

 Thank god, the two guys beside him seemed normal. She totally forgot to take a glance at the guy beside him and only to realize he’s quite good looking. Not an average look for a man at his age, but his eyes and those visible veins were her weakness.

 Reaching out to her hair, she’s about to tie it into a bun but only to lose grip on her red hairband. It landed just few inch from Jungkook’s feet. Jungkook realized that and put away his phone. He bent down to pick the hairband up but at the same time the girl was already reaching for it. Their head were hitting each other, earning a low gasp from both Jungkook and the girl.

 Jungkook straightened up with a baffle look “I am so sorry” he apologized earnestly.

 The girl took the hairband and rubbed her sore head with a small smile “It is alright. I am sorry for dropping this” their eyes met. The girl grew anxious at the sudden staring battle that they had right now. She touched her face in case she smeared her lipstick.

 “I am sorry? Is there something wrong” she inquired.

 He was brought back to his sense as he blurted without he realize “Nothing. You are just pretty” Jungkook himself couldn’t believe what’s coming out from his sinful mouth. Clasping his hand over his mouth, he patted it giving it a scold.

 The girl blushed upon hearing his compliment as he watched him in horror “W-hat…” she faked a laugh and averted her gaze from Jungkook.

 “I mean..I didn’t mean to say that. That is just weird. I am sorry again” He bowed a little hoping he would not scare the girl away. What’s wrong with him anyway? This stupid filthy little mouth gave away compliment so casually especially to a stranger like her.

 She shook her head “It is alright. It must be the gravity” she reasoned.

 Jungkook bit his lower lips to surpass his chuckle at her silly reply “Urm.. I am Jeon Jungkook by the way” he flashed her a charming smile not trying to win her over but that’s just how he smiled.

 The girl was taken aback at first not expecting the guy beside her would introduce himself. This was the start of every conversation, how she hated that. Therefore just to be polite, she replied Jungkook casually “Nari…Son Nari” her eyes gleams.

 “Nari.. Nice to meet you Nari-ssi”

 “You too Jungkook-ssi”

 Interestingly, this Son Nari girl seemed to not recognize him. Not to sound like a superstar, but to be frank everyone knew Bangtan Sonyeondan but for some reason this girl had zero idea of his existence as one of famous idol members.

 After exchanging their names, they fell into silence again. Nari exasperated a sigh of relief knowing Jungkook was not a talkative person, so she could enjoy this plane ride with ease.

 Little did Jungkook know, Jin was actually faking him being asleep. He heard it all up until those little innocent conversation made by Jungkook introducing himself to some random girl. It was a rare sight but he’s proud of his dongsaeng mustering his courage to talk to opposite sex.

 Jungkook stiffened in his seat still contemplating whether to ask questions or kept his mouth shut. Part of him wanted to prolong this conversation as he was curious of this Son Nari person. A soft sigh escaped as his fingers fiddled nervously.

 “You should be thanking me later Jeon” a soft voice whispered awfully low and close to his ears causing him to jerk backwards accidentally hitting Nari again.

 “I AM SO SORRY AGAIN” he looked over at the confused girl and threw a nasty glare at Jin, grinding his teeth together.

 “You seem to have the knack of bumping into others clumsily” she chortled.

 The corner of his lips tugged into an embarrass smile “I thought there was a bug on my seat” he lied. Studying her facial more clearly know, he could tell she’s judging him considering how hard she tried to hold back her laughter.

 “Actually you kinda remind me of one of my friends.. he is..” Nari couldn’t believe with her own eyes that she actually felt comfortable talking to a stranger exchanging their stories and life which was she rarely did every time in public.

 But..Jungkook. Something about him made it feel different.

 Was it his smiley face?

 Was it his perfectly round eyes?

 Was it his giggly side every time he got shy?

 It had always been a start of something new. Nari could use new friends.

Previous | Next: Epilogue  

This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2020. All Rights Reserved

[mikkock]

Uhm??????? Unacceptable?? Please tell me more about your OCs in that last art? I demand it? I want a full report on my desk before morning? Cite your sources please?

Oh no,, you’re asking,,, about my own faves,,, sorry to everyone, but I guess im never going to shut up ever now. (i already don’t shut up ever, what have u done, im now going to speak so much that society will collapse AT LEAST)

But for real. I enjoy pretending I don’t have faves, I love all my kids the same, buT WE ALL KNO THAT’S A LIE, those two my fave bitches (they snatched that title from the last two faves, rip to them, and they also snatched, n I must really make that clear, the title of “the bitches with the most AUs from the previous previous faves. Their power.)

SO. Get ready for a ride, table of content: them, their respective character, their story, and the pLETHORA OF ALTERNATE STORIES I GAVE THEM because i must yell about all the versions of my kids i have (non-exhaustive cause its that serious bro, but ill take extra time for the universe depicted in that art just for u bby). (tbh if clamp is allowed to sprinkle their fave gays in all their universes so am i, except they aint secondary characters there, every story is just theirs. love that concept.)(itll be so long you’re getting a whole novel even if i have to post it in two posts)

So~ Em twos. Dari n Wei-wei as I call em, or Dumbass n Egg if you wanna get friendly.

They’re my proudest instance of “oops i made a squad of characters, and two of them just accidentally were so perfectly compatible and complementary oh no I guess they’re in love now.” And then they became my favourite. Cause I guess their potential was too much (jk its bc they hot)

cuties.

I spent ten minutes wondering which to introduce first cause dang son, I want to talk bout them both so much shefjgfdg

First, as I technically designed him first (like ten minutes before the other), my man weiwei. if u ever saw my art its impossible that you havent seen him at least once. cause i’m legit always drawing him. cause im in love bro.

Demonstration : here are my computer scribbled weiweis of 2020 so far (with a few daris there n there they’re a package deal), that i could find, and they do not include all the paper sketches that i’m too lazy to take pics of. (i just been drawing him with so much hair these days that’s illegal, his brand is baldness)

But anyway, he’s CHEN Chia-Wei, he’s 21, he’s Taiwanese n I love him. Two very important facets of his character when you meet him: he doesn’t talk, and is absolutely, in every single dimension, built to make you fall head over heels for him.

He’s (in the “canon” storyline if i may call it that since it’s def not my most developed one but oh well) an art student, mostly paints but is also great at photography and videography (his vibe is busy hectic pieces with strong bold colours, lots of harsh edges, and very people focused).

Aside from that, he’s also super into fashion, and because he’s part of the rich boy squad (the “im broke so im giving half my characters wealth in compensation) he Can and Does exhibit some quite funky fits when he feels like it. (maybe a reason I draw him a lot, since my fave thing is pretty boys in weird ass clothes)(and then i also draw him in just casual shit cuz tittiful men in plain white tees you know. there’s just something about it.)

Small compilation of outfits. ft me and my band handwriting roasting outfits that id also kill to own but ok u know.

He digs music. (i make playlists for my OCs and i gotta say, his is the best one, i spent so many hours researching it, “arranging” it etc n its still a work in progress but dude. she got many moods my fave part is when it suddenly turns into so many cheesy ballads also she’s enormous cause im as wordy in playlists as I am in writing.) listens to a lot, n also he can play piano n guitar. cause you know. heartthrobs got to win your heart with a song (and if he’s alone he can even mumble some songs, who knows maybe even sing em softly, definitly a sight to stumble on accidentally). Big main artists that have his vibes are Hello Nico, No Party for Cao Dong, n Circa Waves’s “what’s it like over there” album.

He does a lot of sports. He ain’t fit through magic, rip to him. He’s got a serious routine, and it’s a time he likes to use alone, cause nothing like running at the break of dawn, alone with your thoughts, which you can just easily forget through the exhaustion of a workout session afterwards.

he also eats. A lot. Food is just good, bro. (the canon story is def happening some place europe aka his biggest struggle is how expensive food is here. outrageous.)

He secretly loves super cheesy movies. the dramatic romcoms??? the cute shows that are just so cute and worriless?? anything involving soulmates??? yeh dude. he watches it, he reads it, he listens to it, and he may cry about it, but no one will know. That’s the one true guilty pleasure. (and he definitly has a collection of romance dvds, books n manhuas in his old room back at the family home. where no one can see it. perks of studying abroad. no one can see ur hoarding of material that clashes your image. “yes i watch edgy experimental things haha yes i love those smart people movies of course wow the philosophy…” and then immediatly goes to watch the trashiest predictable but oh so sweet dramas all night)

While he doesn’t speak (as in with the mouth) he can communicate in a bunch of language, due to having moved around quite a bit. On top of his native mandarin and hokkien, he’s fluent in English, so he can use those to write, and is also fluent in TSL, and pretty good in HKSL (and from that, other close-in-syntax sign languages). So he doesn’t have trouble getting around, but then he is also overall quiet in public (with close friends and over text though, that’s another story, that’s where he gets chattier, and also where you may get more of his true personality). Also, he can speak with his sister. That’s pretty cool bro.

I was going to say he’s a very “hides his true colours under a shell” type of character but you know, for an egg character, that’s pretty ironic. We love poetic cinema.

He presents himself as a very laid back, chill detached dude, going with the flow and all that great stuff, and masterfully mixes just the right doses of mysterious, flirty and calm to just go around vibing. But ain’t that jUST THE MILLENIAL’S ILLNESS, those dANG KIDS, going around, gettin relationships but never intimacy 👏😢 (there’s more to it dont leave)

First of all, before you see the Drama, the Turmoil, the first thing you notice when you really do befriend him is that he’s c h i l d i s h, he gets sulky when things dont go following the plan, he gets whiny n jealous for not getting attention , he gets competitive over stupid challenges, and way too playful if you start teasing, and when he gets flustered too…you think you get cool stoic dude but actually you get a dude who’s reacting to things with way too much intensity, and boi i thought u were gon be mature what’s that why have you been pouting for three days over losing a bet come on- That’s mostly coming up when he interacts with his sister, but the closest you are to him to more of it you get to see.

He’s also an affectionate dude actually. Like physically. As in you’ll get spontaneous hugs. He’s come nap on your shoulder. That’s a perk of befriending him if you ask me.

Also he tries to look so cool, so tough haha. He’s actually a lil sensitiv boi. he gets fluffy, he gets flustered, he heart eyes. you turn around and he’s gazing at ya as if you were the whole universe. he gets a mini crisis for holding hands with his crush. ya know. he’s secretly a softie.

nerd.

Then in the “what he doesn’t show” (my fave part), where you stock all the anxieties, all the trauma… Obviously there’s a lot of anxiety here (selective muteness being a symptom of it, he hides the other ones very well) mostly fear of inadequacy, of abandonement and of loneliness. mmmmmmmaybe that’s why he was v reticent to continue pursuing that one guy he was into when he realised he was just a tad too into him oh no is that some,, like?? some lovey-love?? cant have that im afraid of gettin heartbroken bro. Aint that sad for a someone who’s one true goal is just findin someone to love and to be with forever, the struggles of yearnin for a soulmate when there’s nothing you fear more than getting attached to a person and letting them see you and your flaws.., delicious.

Now tho (because its so alone speaking about a character on their own and i just wanna get to the part where i can speak bout em together and how they bring out bits of each others ya kno, the good kush….), Dari…

He’s pretty, i must say, and got the funniest hair to draw, and comes from the most opposite background to weiwei’s.

Darian Andriev PARVANOV, also 21, comes from the remote Bulgarian countryside, but i still love him (this makes it sound as if i wouldnt normally love someone from the bulgarian countryside. its not what i meant. by default ud remind me of my son so you’d start being liked if u came from the bulgarian countryside) Now for the first instance of “wow, the complementarity”. The first thing i thought making Dari was that he looked too cool, and that he obviously was a dumbass, and mostly that he was physically unable to shut up. (o fuck he’s me)

best picture i could find of him. He’s got the dilemma of “wow he looked so pretty n cool until he opened his mouth” 

He’s ALSO an art student (cause they were initially created for the purpose of filling the gap of “i have ocs in every field except the one i sorta know that’s so stupid”), painting major (def vibes differently than weiwei though, he’s doing those soft pretty landscapes n flowers, everything real pretty and peaceful, we got some impressionism nerd in here folks). 

He was/is a real country boy, farm family, he helped tend the fields, he worked in plantations for pocket money, he knows how to take care of cattle and chicken and goats and all the cool babies you can take care of, he can tell whether the soil is good or not, he can drive a tractor, and doesnt fear dirt.

but then also he’s kind of a neat freak, he hates getting paint on himself, so the duality of man, dirt ok but paint? disgostin. his spaces are real neat and spotless, he likes cleaning (its relaxing) and does it nearly too often.

his dumbassery comes from lack of common sense and impulsiveness, aside from that he’s actually what you’d call “mad smart”, dude had em good grades, he can memorise pages upon pages of the most trivial information, he has an accumulation of knowledge beyond limits, and is good at problem solving. so he can recite all the words of the F letter of the dictionnary, but would also put a curling iron in his mouth to see if it would curl his tongue. (side note, he does have a problem with heat n fire, most his “oopsie how i wound up hurting myself on acccident” story involve burning -that stove was just too tempting…)

while he doesnt feel very attached to his home country, he does feel strongly for his family. he’d do anything for his mum (and actually does everything to make her proud already, that’s his one main goal), and he’s ready to sacrifice a lot for her (as in, spend years working non-stop a really uncomfortable job so his mother wouldnt have to pay a cent of his expenses even though she said she could by doing some sacrifices herself,and then being ready to come back as soon as needed if anything happened, and potentially drop his career and dream n go back to the farm life to provide for mama)(also he still does hold onto some parts of his home country’s traditions, and does sometimes feel homesick but more in a ‘i left the most beautiful landscapes n the city feels cramped and claustrophobic and i dont know people and i dont feel in the right place cuz im a forreigner with a thicc accent who doesnt master the language of this place and straight up have different body language communicators due to cultural difference oh lord i wanna be home where a nod means no and a head shake is yes i keep misunderstanding everything”)

if you want background noise he’s the perfect pal to call over, he’s just so chatty, he got hours and hours of non stop speech ready for you. you can shut him up once you’re done listening with the offering of food. works everytime.

he’s definitly not shy. neither in terms of talking to people, nor when it comes to making decisions. he’s quite bold, and rarely hesitates to go towards something he wants. he’s direct in his approach to most everything.

he likes partying. mostly the socialising part, talkin to people is just fun ya feel. and being in the crowd, doing whatever, pressure free? ya can dance n enjoy yourself, and people wont notice? yeah that’s nice. but doesnt do it super often cause broke bitches aint got the party time n budget. 

he likes arm. (just an excuse for me to drop this thing here cuz i like it)

While he’s an overall bubbly looking character, with a cheery loud personnality, he does carry some youth trauma that has him more reticent to engage in happiness, he comes from what you could call “not the wokest background” and he may have fallen victim of it : he’s kind of a flashy noticeable character, both physically and in his personnality, and doesnt exactly matches the expectations of dudes in the area he comes from (delicate, emotional and sweet guy? that doesnt exist bro). He went through it, and it has definitly had some impact on his confidence in many aspects. But he’s 100% the type of guy to put on the fake happy front because if feeling bad is sad, making the people you care about sad for you too is Unacceptable Right??? relying on friends?? what???

But then what are we supposed to be doing with such charming characters huh,,, 

Make them fall in love obviously.

Their story obviously has to do with falling in love and workin a relationship cause if I dont write romance i literally die, but I make the center pivot of all of it communication, and barriers in communications. Most obvious being them coming from wildly different cultures, having different native languages, and also the ways you adapt to muteness (what i love most bout that part is even then they fucked up given the easiest quickest small body language things to communicate are head nods n then i managed to make one come from the one country that reverses those like iconic how do they even understand each other -through a lot of work and love bro) but also on more “introspective” points, how to say things that you are even afraid to think about, how to open up and share your burdens and trauma with someone, how to say words you’ve been convinced you weren’t allowed to, the inner turmoil of communication in short. And then also communication through art, and through alternative unusual ways. If i were snobbish i could call it something like “a thinkpieces on how humans overcome obstacles in communication, and adapt, all for the sake of pursuing love” but fact is its mostly boys being in love n learning how to speak, figuratively and also quite literally. And also its me having fun with making characters evolve from each other, be able to influence each other for the better, helping each other be more comfortable with themselves and express the true things of their personnality, and discover new aspects. I just wanna write intense and soulful love bro.

So in less concept and more facts, weiwei meets dari, dari being his puppy self just immediatly strikes a conversation and weiwei gets interested cause “oho nice pretty boy? very good. i want some of that”. they get closer because you cant fight off the Power of friendship (and also the power of “what your friend is bestie with my friend?? guess we hanging out”) and then friendship and interest turns into pining, held back by respective dread of what romance with the other would mean (as in “romance?? cant have that we cant feel” and “with him?? cant do that, convince yourself he’s just a friend immediatly what would the family think”) but eventually they do have to just crash into one another cause that’s just the gravitational pull bro, its physics bro. and from then on its all unlearning destructive behaviours, bettering oneself with the help of the other, and getting over trauma to finally live ur best life. and gettin fckin married bro they’re both cheeseballs theyll wanna wed

BUT MAKING EM FALL IN LOVE ONCE ISNT ENOUGH time to make 3894853 alternate universes about em.

Lets speak bout my fave of those for a hot second.

First of all, the one of the art that brought this ask, guess i could call it “Pretty Tribes” AU, bunch of tribes live and do their things, having nature and energy powers. Dari n Weiwei’s tribes are bros, the latter’s powers needing them to move around to get energy from different places, enabling them different abilities. So basically they get to hang at the other’s place while the regenerate energy from there, and in exchange they help them out with various tasks (dari’s tribe is a rly farmer oriented one, with plant magic, while weiwei’s got more poyvalent powers, and have very good healers notably, so it comes in handy). The two boys were born a few months apart in their respective tribes, so naturally, anything the two clans meet, they’re put together to play and all, and from that they became besties, and each time they meet, after the gaps of time separating the two groups, they feel more and more of a little something else~ story is themed round growing up, friendship between clans, their traditions and cultures, and pretty boys in pretty clothes in pretty landscapes interacting with nature.

The superpower AU, i fuckin love it bro. Its an old one, made for other characters, but i just love it so much that i had to inject my faves in it. Its got a grimy ugly setting, bad government, propaganda, and fights between super-people (heavily mediatised for entertainment and reinforcing the idea that “look at these evil villains thank god us the good government protects you from them”), with a side of bad ethics in science. In all that, those two have the role of “those two young enemy warrior and villain, they were so powerful and fought so hard”, public figures, legendary and admired by both sides, everyone followed their fights, til one day they presumably died in one of their showdowns. (haha sike they actually found themselves talking for 5 seconds and realised they lived in a society, n built a plan to run away). The main characters get to find they’re alive because one of em had history with super-warrior-golden-boy and go to seek their help to overthrow the Big Bads. (stealing them from their nice gay cottage hermit life smh so rude)

Mermaids. I like those. Sailor weiwei sees merman dari, they both save each other in different occasions, they grow fascinated with each other, they’re at sea, water romance. Amazing. AU made half cuz i just like water n fish. and shirtless sailors.

(i couldnt find art of it in five minutes so have a link to that lil animatic piece i made of it once)

Indie band AU, where i was listening to songs that vibe so well with those two in general n then my brain was like “what if they’re the ones playing”. They’re (along with the rest of the art squad) a nice little alternative rock band, doing their thing, then one of their songs blows up, and they get quite the attention, to the dismay of dari who wrote that song in a moment of “oh no im so in love with my bandmate but i cant tell him what if i ruin everything we have going on ill just have to love from afar and deal with that” and now has way too many people interested in who he wrote it about and theorising from his every move when performing it (a mix of music, secret crushes and social media) (ft a picture of neither of them but its the least ugly art i found of this AU cuz its old and instruments are the bane of my existence)(also kelana is so pretty i gotta flaunt her around)

in kind of the same vibe, as in we’re in a music world overexposed to social media, i also integrated em to an AU i did for fun, “boyband AU” as its called aka idol based band system cuz you kno, i got a hobby, lets apply it. Band boy Dari and bodyguard Weiwei got a thing going on, but can’t really act on it in any way, because they’d just destroy the whole band if it ever came public. Featuring annoying bandmates, catchy pop songs and people making fanaccounts of that one hot Mr.Bodyguard cause dang he hot.

(all the art of this one so ugly im sorry)

SPY AU, one of my fave brand. They spies, they get assigned on the same mission, they work real nice with each other. spies hot. fights. strategy. i just like the concept. Gays taking down the worst traffics imaginable??? I love that song.(i actually have so much on this cause s p i e s are fuckin great)

Fashion. U kNOW i have an AU for fashion. Supermodel and his private stylist, trying to maintain the line of professionalism. And failing to do so. Lets make out in unpractical designer clothes.

Have an highschool AU for a bunch of characters, injected them as “spinoff”, start chatting online being art buddies, fall in love without meeting (ft. all the iconics of internet friendship like knowing tiny details of their personnalities but not the fact that they have a sister or “waIT ur a GUY i thought u were a girl wow wild good news for my gay ass”)

n those are my faves as far as i remember, i got a fuckton of small other ones that arent fleshed out enough, or some that are more of a guilty pleasure universe, and some that are more like “projects that i can expend on as soon as i run out of daydream material” (like u kno those hospital drama shows with super innacurate medicine n shit like idk scrubs or whatever, yeh i want some of that but im keeping it for later)

[celestial-neverland]

**Thought I'd do a little fun one shot while I work on my other one**

“I now pronounce you”

Peter Pan X Darya(OC)

Darya ran her hand through her hair as she rolled from her bed. She'd been a part of Neverland for a long while now, few years now. It had taken some time for the Lost Boys to warm up to her, hell she was sure Pan still wasn't as warmed up to her as the rest of them. At least that's what it seemed like. He would have Felix, his second in command, be the one to transfer the orders from him to Darya.

The weirdest thing she found though was when she felt his gaze on her. He was always quick to turn away when she returned the look. The way he watched her made her feel like he didn't trust her... But if that was true then why wasn't she off the island?

Darya shook her head at her thoughts and tugged her boots on. She climbed down the ladder of her hidden tree house, making her way to the camp's "kitchen". She smiled as she went into the decently sized hut. Shortly after she'd arrived to Neverland, she had made a deal with Pan upon hearing some of the younger crying for their mothers, that she would become their replacement mother for her freedom of the cages. Much to her surprise, he had agreed. The next morning, there was a kitchen that Pan had created with his magic. Much to Pan's surprise, Darya had used magic of her own to summon various foods and ingredients to fill the kitchen for a couple months.

Strumming her fingers on the counter top, she debated what she wanted to make the boys this morning. Most absolutely loved pancakes. That was the usual go to for breakfast or whatever someone would request. Smiling, she nodded knowing exactly what she would make.

She quickly gathered everything and started preparing a buffet of everything "breakfast" related items. After a good hour and a half, just in time for the boys to wake, she had all the food spread out on some of the extra tables.

As she checked out the display of food she felt a tugging at her shirt. Darya turned to gaze at a small blue eyed little boy named Jean. She flashed the boy a smile and knelt down.

"Good morning, Jean! How are you this morning?" She asked, happily as she ruffled his hair. The 6 year old smiled and wrapped his small arms around her neck.

"Thanks for the yummy food, Mama Ry! Did you make pancakes too?" He asked excitedly. Darya laughed.

"Of course I did!"

Jean clapped excitedly and bounced off. Darya smiled, turning around. As she turned around, she collided with a hard chest. She let out a gasp at the impact, closing her eyes as she waited to hit the ground.

After a moment, she realized that she had stopped mid-fall and had been caught. Her eyes shot open open. Electric blue eyes met dark forest green. Her eyes grew wide as she scrambled out of Peter's arms. She straightened herself and covered her now bright red face.

"Oh hell!" She whispered. "I did not mean to- I should of-"

Peter's eyebrow arched. The boys hushed, waiting in anticipation of what would happen next. Darya bit her lip, as she too waited for his reaction.

Peter's hand shot out and he grabbed her arm, yanking her along with him into the deep recesses of the woods. Darya let out a Yelp as he basically dragged her through the woods.

"H... Hey!! Wh... where are you taking me? I didn't mean to run into you!!" She said, internally panicking. "I'm sorry!"

Peter came to a sudden halt in front of her, causing her to collide once again with her, this time into his back. He turned around, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at her.

"P... Pan?"

Peter reached up, brushing his hand through her dark colored hair. A devious gleam shimmered in his eyes suddenly. “Yes, love?” 

Darya looked at him, eyes unable to tear away from Peter. The Lost Boy leader pulled his hand from her hair and took ahold of her chin in his index finger and thumb. She opened her mouth then closed it, repeating the action a couple times before finally clamping her mouth closed. 

Peter leaned down, nose brushing hers. “What is it?” He asked, breath against her lips. Darya stood there frozen in her spot. 

“I...” She started, trying to form a proper sentence. He waited a moment longer before rolling his eyes. Obviously she couldn’t find something to say, he leaned in closer and closed the gap between them.

Darya’s lips parted as she gasped against his lips. Peter took the chance to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Her electric blue eyes slid close as he brought his other hand up, tangling it into her hair and held her head in place as though she would try to escape. Darya brought her own hands up, one placed on the back of his neck and the other resting lightly on his cheek.

After a few moments longer, Peter pulled back and rested his head on her forehead. Her eyes remained closed for a short moment longer, sighing contently. “I love you, Dar.” He whispered suddenly. Darya’s eyes flew open and she looked into his deep green eyes. 

“I...uh.. You what?” She whispered as if she had misheard him correctly. Peter pulled back, eyes suddenly fully of hurt. He stepped back away from her. Darya shook her head, reaching for his hand. “No! Peter, wait-”

Peter shook his head and turned to leave. Darya launched herself at him, grabbing his arm and jerking him around to face her. Peter growled, yanking his arm back and shoving her hard up against the tree.”You obviously don’t feel the same.” He shot at her, his tone laced with venom. Darya looked at Peter with wide eyes.

“B.. But- I... You didn’t even-” Peter cut her off.

“I didn’t even what?” He demanded, his grip on her shoulder tightening as he shoved her against the tree again. Darya let out a yelp, both of surprise and somewhat of pain. 

She hesitated a moment before answering. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond..” She whispered, head cast down. Peter suddenly looked surprised as he dropped his hands to his sides. “Well..?”

“Y... You surprised me...” She started, head still turned downward. He watched her, his patience growing thinner and thinner by the second. She finally tipped her head back up to meet his gaze. “I... I love you too.” She replied, covering her red cheeks. 

The words were barely out of her mouth before he had his lips back onto hers. She let out a soft noise, almost like a whimper against his mouth. She felt him grin as he ran his hands down to her hips, holding her to him as though she was going to turn tail and run with a change of heart. 

Darya wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly against her. Peter pulled back just enough for a breath and enough to speak his next request of her.

“Hey, Love?” He started, waiting for her to respond. She looked at him curiously.

“Yea?”

“I want you to become my queen.”

Darya looked at him, baffled. “Your-”

“Queen, love, yes. I want you to help me rule over Neverland.”

Darya looked at him before smiling at him. “Is that similar to asking for marriage?” She joked. Peter grinned.

“We can make it like a wedding ceremony if you desire.”

“Wait, are you serious? Are you really asking me to stand as your equal in ruling Neverland?” She asked him, caution in her words. Peter chuckled at her disbelief. 

“Yes, I am asking you exactly that. Would it be better if I asked you just be my wife and you automatically become my queen?” He teased. She let out a small laugh. 

“Well... I- If that’s how you want to do it!” She replied with a smile. He grinned, leaning in to kiss her lightly. 

“Then as King of Neverland, I now pronounce you my wife and Queen of Neverland and the Lost Boys.” He whispered against her lips, kissing her once more.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Hey there, my name is Shanna. I am a twenty seven year old lady who lives in the Pacific Time zone. I have an itch for some roleplaying and I’m hoping to find some long term partners! 

Before I start, let’s get the hard part over with; the rules. I’m pretty lenient when it comes to rping, I don’t expect too much but due to the past, I feel like I should go over what I’m looking for and what i’m not looking for.

First and foremost, be respectful. This is more aimed towards male rper unfortunately. If you guys are looking for someone who just wants to smut or someone to flirt with and basically ignore the rp altogether, I am not your girl. I am here to make long term friends and roleplay, nothing more. 

Ladies, if you are looking for someone to play strictly male, I am not your girl. I love a good compromise and if you don’t mind playing male, cool but if you want to play female, we can come up with something. We can world build and mae multi couples, I also love  side characters in rps! Let’s compromise and make it work.

Don’t ghost me. If something doesn’t work out or you don’t like the direction of the rp, let me know. If you have personal issues going on and need to stop, that’s alright! I get it! We all have lives outside of rp but let a girl know. Seriously, it’s been such a problem that it’s getting disheartening. 

Please understand, life comes first. As much as I love rping, I have responsibilities in my personal life. Work, school, my four month old kitten. Life piles up and depending on the time of day, I might not be able to rp all the time. Please. Don’t. Spam. Me. That makes me absolutely nervous and it will not make me respond any faster. 

Be over eighteen. For obvious reasons, ahem, smut.

If you’re still reading, congratulations! Now, we can get to the nitty gritty; the actual roleplaying! 

Plot wise, I am looking for something filled with drama, romance a bit of angst. Something more on the realistic side though I do love my fair share of supernatural plots as well and would love to explore that. As for pairings, I mostly do MxF and F//, though I usually play female, I wouldn’t mind playing male as long as we both have a chance to play female! 

I am also big on world building. Mood boards, play list, bring them to me! The more we can gush about our characters and their world, the more fun it will be for the both of us! 

Plot Bunnies

Exes who fall in love again

Best friends who reconnect after years apart

Offspring of fairy tales

Mafia romance plot 

One night stand ends in pregnancy 

College Love

Soulmate tattoo plot

Good girl (boy) falls for bad boy (girl)

Poly relationships

Seven Deadly sins falling for a human 

Angel and Demon forbidden 

Forbidden love such as age gap (within reason), step siblings, any other taboo relationship.

Teacher and student 

Princess gets kidnapped by a thief and they end up falling in love while on the run. 

Human in deep despair encounters a god/goddess/angel

Stripper and client fall in love

Opposites attract

Sub/Dom relationship 

Boss and employee relationship

Marriage arrangement

Possible Fandoms (Oc x Canon only)

Osomatsu san

My Hero Academia

Danganronpa 

RWBY

Blue Exorcist

Fruits Basket

Monster Prom

Servamp

Lucifer 

Food Fantasy

Riverdale

Dream Daddy (Amanda Centric)

Now for everyone’s favorite part, smut. Please be okay with smut because I like to include this into any plot. I do not fade to black. I’m pretty comfortable and open with suggestions and I do have a few kinks that aren’t too over the top. These include public sex, light bondage, involve toys, emotional attachment.

However, I DON’T do porn without plot. Meaning, the plot cannot be forgotten about because it is very important. If it fits into the moment than that’s great but let’s not force it and let’s not rush. I also have limits; no pedophile, no beastility, no blood, no violence, no hardcore rape. Overall, just respectful and communicate, it’s all about having fun. 

Some last little nuggets I want to leave you all with! Like I said, I mainly want to have fun and make friends! I love creating worlds and stories while also talking to people. I am that partner that loves making playlist, moodboards and gushing over characters while making worlds. I would love someone with the same energy as that! 

But all in all, I want us both to enjoy ourselves! Please come with ideas as well and an open mind! :D 

If you made it this far and you’re interested, yay! Send me your favorite color and an introduction of who you are and what you’re interested in so we can get started :D 

Contact

Email: Hunieangelrp@gmail.com

Discord: Seras Moonfry#6596

Tumblr: Shannasplayground92 (if you can't me add my discord, you can always message me on Tumblr and give me your discord :)) 

[eerythingisshaka]

World’s Best Baba

(M’Baku x Black OC)

Plot:  The family takes a holiday in the States and on the itinerary is a trip to the zoo.   The kids have fun in the day, but once night falls, the adults start to play!

A/N:  This is my submission to @muse-of-mbaku‘s M’Baku’s Mistresses Fic Fest!  I hope this suffices; as usual I type WAY more than I meant to, so grab a snack and settle in!  This is my first Black Panther Papa story and original character fic, so excuse if there are some ‘yous’ where there should ‘hers’ etc.  Thank you again, ms. muse for allowing my hand at this.  You are appreciated!

Word Count: 7.2K

Warnings: The Holy Trinity - Fluff, Angst, and [kids cover ya ears: Smut]

Translations:  

Ọmọbinrin = daughter     Molo = Good Day      ife mi = my love    

 Umyeni = husband     Ikaka = shit      Umfazi = wife        Entle = beautiful

“Today is the day!! Everybody up!!”  M’Baku bellowed throughout the hall outside of his kids’ rooms.

The children ran out on cue to tackle their father at his knees.  The 5 year old twin boys, Mayowa and Mabayoje, clung to his calves.

“I got you, Baba!!”  Mayowa exclaimed.

“You can’t move now!!”  Mabayoje said with a giggle fit.

M’Baku gave a hearty chuckle at their efforts.  “Oh no!  I have been overrun by little people from the Wayward Forest.  What ever will I do?”  M’Baku says with a dramatic sigh.

“Give up!  And let us have all the cookies!”  Mayowa reasoned.  M’Baku felt his little jaws trying to bite down on his thick leg, which tickled more than anything.

Mabayoje added on, “And the ice cream, Baba!”  His little fists punch at M’Baku’s thigh.

M’Baku lifts the leg with Mayowa, causing him to squeal.  

He lifts Mabayoje on the other leg.  “Agghhh!! No, Baba!!  You can’t move!  You’re cheating!”

“BABA!”  a third voice squeaks from behind them.  “Baba!  Get your BUTT!!  DOWN!!  HERE!!”  M’Baku turns to see his third child, a three year old baby girl named Monife standing with her hands crossed in front of her Doc McStuffins pink pajamas.  She did not look amused.

M’Baku looks down at the boys to say with Shakespearean cadence, “Your sister is overtaking my body with her mind powers.”  He lifts his legs one by one as the boys scream with glee.  “I am not shackled to your demands, for she beckons my assistance.  Therefore…”  he picks each boy off of him by the backs of their shirts.

“AGGGHH!!  Baba! No!  Not the dragons!!”  They say in perfect unison.

M’Baku looks at them with dramatized sorrow,  “My sons, I must feed you to the fire-breathing beasts.  I will always love you, but our time must end.”  M’Baku heaves them over on their beds, making them bounce a couple times, giggling to the point of breathlessness.  It’s the only time they can get airborne on the bed without a stern warning.

M’Baku exhales deeply; he wasn’t tired but their little energies so early in the morning was a lot.  He went over to their closets and picked out a couple of outfits.  “Ok, boys.  Fix your beds, brush your teeth.”  

“Hmph!”  M’Baku looks to the door of the boys bedroom to see Monife tapping her foot.  “Baba!”

M’Baku acknowledges his daughter, “Ok, Monife, hang on.”

“Babaaa!!”  Monife mewls.

M’Baku sighs, “Coming, ọmọbinrin.  Boys, do as I said.”  He commands one last time to the dueling twins before leading his baby girl to the bathroom.  

She stands on a stool in front of the sink,  handing her father the comb.  “Ok, Baba.  Can you do braids?”  

M’Baku takes the comb and a leave-in spray to condition her tresses.  “Ohhh, Baba has not got that down just yet, I think.”  M’Baku looks at his daughter in the mirror as she screws her face up with slight disappointment.  

“That’s ok Baba, we can practice again later.”  Monife says with the maturity of someone five times her age.  

M’Baku works through her soft coils, detangling the kinks as with a soft hand he has learned to adopt since having children.  He was so proud of every single one of them, but as big of a surprise the twins were to introduce them to parenting, his daughter was an even bigger adjustment.  She was a Jabari through and through.  Her brothers fell into her command as soon as she entered their world. Monife does not let them or anyone gang up on her when she felt she was right; this was a spot of pride and strife for M’Baku and his wife.  But she taught you patience and how to think before speaking so that there was an understanding on why things must be the way they are from chores to snack options to bed times.

“How about a little puff puff, eh?  I can put your little beaded band around it, let your little curls fall by your ears and neck, and it would be cute, right?”  M’Baku says in an octave only reserved for her.

She drums her fingers on the sink thoughtfully,  “Ok Baba.  It will be easy for you I think.”  she says with a smile that makes her eyes close up.

M’Baku shakes his head at the slight shade from his child as he goes to work.

---

Ifelewa stood in front of the mirror of the master bathroom surveying her reflection.  She woke up this morning not feeling so good, but was able to hide her ailment until M’Baku kissed her good morning before he got the children up for the day.  She felt the same way on the plane ride over to the States but that was easy to blame on the turbulence of the plane.  This was supposed to be a fun filled holiday from home, but now she felt an overwhelming sense of dread.  Her period was over a week late; she didn’t track it religiously but she knew the estimates were off.  The stick sat on the edge of the bathroom sink as she moisturized to pass the time waiting.  She had her twist out taken down and fluffed out her curls when she glimpsed the results.

As she picks up the stick, Ifelewa hears her daughter beckoning her father to do their morning routine.  She felt her heart pound as the results came back positive; she had to sit down on the toilet to keep her head from spinning.  Ifelewa had not discussed having more children with M’Baku before now but here it is, straight from Hanuman.  Ifelewa prayed, thanking Hanuman first for the blessing, as children were always to be seen as such.  She also prayed for guidance: how should this be announced?  Did M’Baku have the will for more children?  What if it is twins again?  Ifelewa recalls her first pregnancy, so happy to be carrying two babies but they left her swollen and acne riddled and throwing up almost the whole pregnancy.  Monife was easier, but she required bed rest the last 6 weeks because she was too eager to arrive.

Ifelewa felt her belly, nothing particularly different yet, but it certainly was.  A new life between her and M’Baku to grow.  She chuckled to herself as she imagines pinpointing exactly when the conception probably occurred.  When they were able to get a babysitter, they do not waste time to catch up on romance.

With a sigh, Ifelewa resumes getting prepped and dressed before heading downstairs to cook for her brood.

Just as she is finishing up the waffles, she hears the stampede of little footsteps spilling into the kitchen.

“Molo, Mama!”  The boys answered in unison before pushing each other over to fight over one seat.

“Aye aye aye!!  We have more chairs, move over!”  She commands of the twins.  

Mayowa sticks his tongue out at Mabayoje as he claims the coveted seat.  M’Baku finally comes down, hand in hand with Monife before picking her up and setting her down at the table.   

“Molo, ife mi.”  M’Baku coos in Ifelewa’s ear as he slides his hand around the side, over her belly, causing her to jump.  

Ifelewa laughs it off, “Good morning to you too, umyeni.  Did you sleep well?”

M’Baku takes plates of eggs, fruit and toasted bread on the table; fixing up the children’s plates.  “Like a rock.  This is a very nice place we picked out to stay in.”

Ifelewa rolled her eyes as she turned off the waffle maker to lift out the last waffle on a plate.  “‘We’?   You were ready to have us living in someone’s fancied up garage before I changed the price range…”  Ifelewa sets the waffles on the table,leaning on Monife’s chair with her hand on her hip, glaring at M’Baku.  “Cheap does not get you very far, M’Baku, how many times must I say?”

M’Baku takes a strawberry from the bowl of fruit, chewing it thoughtfully.  “You say cheap, I say financially conscious.”  He comes over to her, laying a hand on the side of her face.  “You have always been the brains of the operation, and I thank Hanuman for it because I think our children just might make it off of your genes alone.”  Ifelewa laughs.  M’Baku does not naturally self-deprecate but he knew his woman made him more of a man than he ever could achieve by himself, and he never let Ifelewa forget that.  

Ifelewa sighs, looking at her husband deep into his round, enchanting eyes.  She wasn’t sure if it was the hormones or his soft expression, but the wave of love that came over Ifelewa for her husband  warmed her all over; the same feeling that guaranteed your surety of carrying his children.  She turns to kiss the palm of his hand, causing a low growl from the back of his throat. Taking her chin he kisses her longingly, deliberately.

“EWWWWW!! Can you be done already?” Mayowa exclaims with a disgusted expression, Mabayoje covers his eyes groaning.

Monife misses everything as they were standing behind her.  She looks up at the both of them, “What you doing?  Sit down and eat!”  says their little general.

Ifelewa and M’Baku break from their kiss in laughter.  The kids were never for the PDA, as M’Baku rounds the table with sloppy kisses for each children’s cheeks, creating a chorus of yucks and little hands swiping away at his face.

Sitting down to enjoy breakfast, Ifelewa admires M’Baku as he talks to each child equally holding the attention of each as they gab about what they were excited to do today.  Ifelewa rubs her stomach again as she stabs at her eggs trying to eat to keep her strength up, but anxiety was fighting her appetite.  Thinking of a fourth child joining the table gave her absolute joy:  Would this one look more like her or M’Baku?  Would Monife want a little sister or remain the solo star?  M’Baku catches her staring at him and he flashes his gap toothed before reminding the children to finish their meals.  Ifelewa could not wait to tell him the news, she just hoped he was ready.

“Ok! Yowa, Yoje, Fefe, are we ready to go to the zoo??” Ifelewa stands, announcing the event with a flourish.

“YEAH!!”  The children exclaim.  

“Well then. Let’s go to the car, we haven’t got all day!”  she says, gleaming as they all get up excitedly to make it to the front door.

On the road, M’Baku at the wheel puts one hand on Ifelewa’s leg.  “Is everything ok, ife mi?  You haven’t seemed completely yourself this morning.”  He looks to her with his brow furrowed in concern.

She sighs as she fans herself, “I have just got to get used to the American air.  It is so thick and humid.  My hair is growing by the minute.”  Ifelewa complains as she looks in the visor at her twist out as it slowly loses definition.

“Mama!!  Your hair reminds me of a plant!  It’s so, whooosh!”  Monife demonstrates with her hands the volume of her mom’s hair.  

M’Baku clears his throat looking in the rearview, “And a beautiful plant it is, right Fefe?”

Monife nods, “Yeah!  It like mine!  Mine is a pot plant, Mama’s is free!”  Monife bobs her head back and forth to the car tunes as she stares out the window.

“Aww, that’s sweet, my smart, little flower pot baby!!”  Ifelewa looks back at her baby girl in her jean shorts and tie dye ruffle top.  She looks just like her mother, but has all of her dad for the rest.

“You did a good job with her hair, Baku.  You’re a natural at it now.”  Ifelewa says as she peers at her husband.

M’Baku shrugs, “It wasn’t the original plan but it was something we could agree on.”  M’Baku smirks as he glances at Ifelewa again.  “And then I get to look at a masterpiece for a partner every day.  I am a lucky man.”

Ifelewa grins, feeling that warmth all over her again before hearing a slap in the backseat, followed by a cry from Mayowa.

“Mamaaaa!!  Mabayoje smacked meeeee!!”  The eldest twin cried with despair.

M’Baku speaks with his fatherly tone, “Mabayoje…..”

“But Baba!  He has been mean all day-”

“If you do not have patience with you brother, how can you have patience for anyone else in the world?  You cannot keep sparring to settle agreements, you must learn to control your emotions!”  Ifelewa says to her sons sternly.  

As Mayowa sniffs and wipes his tears, Mabayoje stews with his arms crossed.  “Ikaka.”

“AYE!”  M’Baku and Ifelewa bark in unison.  

“Where do you go around saying that word?”  Ifelewa inquires.

“Baba says it a lot when he messes up or stubs his toe.”  Mabayoje says into his hand as he bites his fingernails.

Ifelewa looks at M’Baku swiftly who keeps his eyes on the road.  “Ohh, look!  We have arrived!! Children, if you behave, we can forget about this whole situation, no punishments!”  The children cheer as he parks.  

Ifelewa looks at him like he is crazy. “NO PUNISHMENTS?  M’Baku, they can’t learn from their ways without-”

“Everybody out!  We might beat the afternoon crowd!”  M’Baku gets out of the car to unbuckle his baby girl.  

With the children walking hand in hand, Ifelewa presses M’Baku, “You have to control your tongue more around the children.  They will repeat everything you say, even when you think they aren’t listening.”  

M’Baku sighs, “Come on, I am not perfect.  And besides, we are on holiday.  We can loosen the reigns a little until we get back.”

Ifelewa walked heavily in annoyance.  She did not enjoy being undermined in front of the children either.

M’baku reads the silence, whispering to her, “I am sorry if I ran over your foot back there.  I just want the kids to have as much fun as possible, and to save myself from a good scolding.”

She rolled her eyes.  M’Baku was not too bad at gauging her feelings and hit it on the nose yet again.  “I was not going to scold you, just heed your words?  Please?”  

M’Baku looks at you, biting his lips, “Will you beg some more if I continue to act out, umfazi?”

She rolls her eyes, “Concentrate on the admission, eh?”

M’Baku drops the hands of Monife and Mabayoje to get out his wallet.  “My mind is already set, entle.  Just be prepared once the kids are down for bedtime.”

“No!!  We don’t want to go to bed!!”  Monife protests, overhearing her father.

“Oh, don’t worry sweetheart.  We will be up for a long time before then.  Your father is kidding, we will stay up as late as we want!  We are on holiday after all!”  Ifelewa says excitedly, earning cheers from the children as the shuffle through the turnstiles.  She looks back at a hurt looking M’Baku, shrugging without care as she switches a little extra to show what he would be missing.  M’Baku calls the shots naturally so, but he knew the true boss in their marriage, especially when it came to sex.

Once they made it inside the zoo, the family walks around admiring the wildlife that there was to offer.  The lions were lazy as usual, basking in the sunlight; this didn’t stop the little ones from making faces and giving their best roars.  

Monife loved the flamingo exhibit.  “They look so pretty Baba!  Pick me up!  I can’t see!!”  M’Baku obliged, holding her close while pointing at them and telling her all about them.  Ifelewa stood back a bit, suddenly tired from the trek around.  Seeing M’Baku hold their littlest creation made her heart flutter.  The thing she loved most about him was how soft and caring he was despite his ferocity with the Jabari and any enemies he comes across.  Monife looked so tiny in his arms but it was M’Baku who shrank in her presence.  

“Mama!  Do they have monkeys here?”  Mayowa asks excitedly.

Ifelewa nods, “Of course!  Monkeys and much more!  Come on!  Mabayoje!  Get down from there, let’s go!”  As the twins fell in line, M’Baku walks beside her with Monife still in his arms, playing in his beard hair.

There was a mix of animals along the way: monkeys, orangutans and last but not least, gorillas.  

“Look! Look!”  M’Baku points the group to the gorilla enclosure.

“Wooow!”  Monife squirms out of M’Baku’s arms and the twins set off toward the glass and bang the living daylights on it.

“Ah ah!  Stop it, oh!  They can see you without noises, just look.”  Ifelewa warns.

“Yes, Mama.”  sang the children.

“Yowa!  Yoje!  Jabariiii!!!” Monife bellows.

The twins follow her lead to respond with a hoots and woofs, banging their little chests with their fists.  “Wooo! Wooo!  Wooo!”  

Ifelewa laughs uncontrollably at the children’s antics, “M’Baku?  Did you teach them that?”

M’Baku looks to her beaming with pride and shrugs, “They just learned it on their own from their father.”  He walks up close to her.  “Should I heed that behavior in front of the children as well?”  M’Baku’s baritone threatens teasingly.

Ifelewa crosses her arms, “You know what I mean, Baku.  Right now, I just want to heed a plate of some food, maybe a portobello burger...”  she moans at just the thought of the swiss cheese and grilled mushroom top dancing on her taste buds.

He takes a deep breath holding her close while looking at the children.  “I thought you didn’t like mushrooms, my love?  That’s an odd request to make.”

Ifelewa freezes a moment.  He was right, mushrooms are gross to her except when she is with child, she couldn’t get enough.

“Ah, just testing you!  But I am still hungry though.”  She could live without the portobello for now to keep the secret a little longer.

M’Baku squeezes her side, pecking her on the forehead before rounding up the children for a late lunch.

Ifelewa could not find any substantial pescatarian food to soothe her appetite (vegetation life like M’Baku wad not her style), instead opting for some fries and shaved ice.

M’Baku had packed some snacks for the group but Ifelewa did not feel like eating it.  “Are you sure you don’t want something else?  You sounded pretty starved earlier.”  M’Baku inquires chomping on some red bell pepper slices.

She shrugs, “It’s fine.  When we get home, I can get some dinner going.”  Ifelewa couldn’t hide her exhaustion as she rubbed her feet.

M’Baku looked at his wife suspiciously as he wiped some cheese off of his son’s face.  “Well, we can get ready to go now, for sure.  We have seen plenty out here today, the skies look a little cloudy anyway.”

“But Baba!  We didn’t get to see the tigers or panthers!  They are my favorite!”  Mayowa exclaimed sadly.   M’Baku waves him off.  “You only like them because of your Uncle T’Challa.  The Gorilla’s are much more exciting.   They came right up to you!  The cats just lounge around.”  M’Baku says giving a thumbs down motion.

“But-”  before he could protest any more, the skies opened up as rain came crashing down.

“Whoa!  Would you look at that, we have to go after all!”  M’Baku gets up in Mayowa’s teasingly.  “Ifelewa,  I will bring the car around so sit tight.”  M’Baku gives her a kiss before jogging out in the rain.

“I hope Baba doesn’t get washed away in the rain.”  Mabayoje says looking worried.

Ifelewa pats his back as she watches the showers fall sharply to the ground.  “No worries.  It’s just like at the lake, right?  Long as you stand up, you are fine.”

“And Baba is really tall, Yoje.  He will be fine!”  Monife encourages her brother.

“That’s right, intomba.  Baba stands very tall and is very strong, so he is fine.”  Ifelewa says and as if on cue, M’Baku rolls up outside of the restaurant with an umbrella to collect his family.  

Once they got home, Ifelewa and M’Baku change the children out of their damp clothes before starting some dinner.  

As Ifelewa cooked, M’Baku put on a movie for the children as he joins his wife in the kitchen.

“What do you need help with, entle.  My hands are yours to direct.”  He says wrapping his arm around her waist, kissing her cheek.  

“Mmm, how about just chopping up the other vegetables over there?  I’m mixing a vinaigrette and the pan should be hot to start sauteeing by the time you are done.”  Ifelewa commands.

M’Baku reaches for a knife and begins to chop.  “Did you enjoy the day?”  

“Yes, I did.  It was very fun to see the babies enjoying the animals and getting along.”  Ifelewa looks back at M’Baku’s wide back as he chops.  She loved the width of her husband,  so attractive that there wasn't an ounce of scrawniness to him.  She wipes her hands and comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around him. She feels M’Baku chuckle in his belly.  “And you were the greatest help as usual.  I don’t know what I would do without you being here.”  Her voice hitches at the thought before she can stop herself.  Mabayoje bringing up M’Baku getting caught up in the rain was hitting her all of a sudden.  She had to just sit there with her children anticipating M’Baku’s return, but what if that was everyday?

M’Baku stops chopping to hold his wife’s hands against him as she buried her face in his back.  “Where is your emotion coming from, ife mi?”  He craned his neck to talk behind to her.

Ifelewa shakes her head, “I just thought about something Mabayoje was saying.  You know how the kids can bring out so many emotions from me out of the blue.”  She chuckles weakly as she wipes tears from her face.  M’Baku turns around to hold his wife’s face in his all encompassing hands, his thumbs swipe at wayward tears.  “I am right here, entle.  No harm will come to me, Hanuman willing.”

She holds his wrist, “I don’t even want to think about it, for fear of bringing it to pass, but you help me so much with them, I am just spoiled.”

M’Baku brings his hands to her hips, pulling her against him.  “If spoiling you is being a good father to my children and devoted partner to my wife, than so be it.  But you brought our babies into this world with so much strength.   Through sickness, false contractions, mood swings, bed confinement; I know why Hanuman gave us twins for your first pregnancy because we probably would have an only child right now otherwise.”  Ifelewa chuckles.  “But believe me when I say you are a most capable mother, right now and for whatever is ahead of us.  You have made me the happiest man three times over, and I hope to be blessed even more.”

Ifelewa looked at him with wonder, digesting his last words.  M’Baku loved her with all of his heart, his beautiful speech was nothing new of what he has said before.  But having just found out she was pregnant, she was already feeling moody beyond control hence her irrational fear.  But the new life inside of her was giving her cold feet concerning what they could handle.  But luckily, she has a great man to give her reprieve.

Ifelewa smiles, shifting her weight anxiously.  “I’m glad you said that, because-”

“Mama!  Baba!  Something smells funny!”  Monife yells from the living room.

Ifelewa turns to the stove to take the hot skillet with burnt oil off the stove.  “Ikaka!” she curses, wiping her brow in frustration.

“Ohhh, Mama said a bad worrrrd!”  Mabayoje taunts, giggling at his mother.

M’Baku shoots him a look that shuts down any further foolishness.  M’Baku lays a hand on her lower back, speaking softly.  “Iffie, let me finish up here.  You go sit with the children.”

“I can handle it, I should do it.”  Ifelewa persists taking the skillet to clean.

M’Baku finesses it out of her hands to set it on the counter.  He plants his hands on her hips to guide her out of the kitchen to the living room.  “Don’t make that face, you want to treat me to be the man of the house?  Then I am telling you to sit down, and elevate your feet.”  She plops down on the couch shaking her head with a smile.  M’Baku leans into her ear, “And I don’t want any lip about it.”  He full mouth grazes her ear lobe before returning to finish cooking up dinner.  Her babies mill around her, resting their heads on her body to snuggle up for the rest of the movie.  Ifelewa looks back in the kitchen again as M’Baku is concentrated on mixing up ingredients, tasting his concoctions, working his hips as he jiggles the skillet around.  She turns back to the TV, hugging her babies close to her, staring at their deep melanin tones, soft curls, little extremities getting longer by the day.  Looking to her belly she whispers, “We love you very much.  So, so much.  Keep growing big and strong.”  Ifelewa stared listlessly at the TV screen until her vision blurred, drifting off to sleep.  

When she woke up, she was on the couch still but the TV was off and outside was dark, still rainy.   She infers that M’Baku rounded the kids up to bed,  falling asleep himself.   Ifelewa gets up to walk out on the patio, hugging herself as the rain drills down to the ground.  She always found peace in the sounds of rain, the cloudiness putting her at ease.  People always looked at her crazy when she would say the day was beautiful and was not joking.  Light storming never annoyed her one bit; it was like a shower for the earth and the plants look extra beautiful afterwards.

She steps a toe out, letting the drops coat her foot.  She follows with a hand out, collecting some in her hand.

Ifelewa feels pressure on her shoulder as her peripheral catches her husbands face resting on her shoulder, making her jump.

“Oh M’Baku!  Why are you so quiet when you walk around?  You are like a bumblebee: what you can do just doesn’t make sense to your physical make up.”

“Bzzz Bzzz!”  M’Baku lifts Ifelewa in the air carrying her out in the rain with a spin.  

“Agghhh!!  Put me down!!”  Ifelewa shrieks as she hides her face, unable to barrage of drops dampening her and M’Baku.  He brings them back under the overhang of the patio, freeing Ifelewa to attack him with slaps on his body.  “Where do you get off doing that? Huh!  How dare you!”  

M’Baku brings his arms up to protect himself, laughing the whole time, “What?  You seemed on your way out there, I was just helping you get a little wet!”

Ifelewa pushes him, still stewing.  “You are so immature sometimes!  I woke up comfortable, now I have to change clothes!”

M’Baku gets a hold of her wrists, pushing her up against the wall.  He says through his teeth.  “The children are sleeping...keep your voice down.”

M’Baku and Ifelewa stare each other down, only their breath and the storm behind them fill their silence.  

“They ate dinner?”  she asks.  M’Baku nods.  “They took their baths?”  M’Baku nods, freeing her wrists to run his hands down her arms and body.  “What about my plate?”  

M’Baku brings his lips to her neck softly grazing her clavicle, “It’s in the oven, wrapped up for you.”

Ifelewa clears her throat as her husband’s supple lips travel across her chest, creating goosebumps, while his hands reach around to grip and pull at the flesh of her ass.  “I am not amused, M’Baku.  I’m cold, I’m wet-”

M’Baku takes his hands up under her shirt, making Ifelewa shiver from his brazen behavior.  His hands cup her breast, thumbing over her already protruding nipples.  His eyes are darkened with desire.  “Well if you are cold, I can change that.  But the wetness might get worse before you are truly relieved.”

Ifelewa lets out a sharp gasp, arching against his touch.  She reaches her hands behind his head, scratching his scalp.  “I can’t stand you right now.”  she moans.

M’Baku brings his mouth to Ifelewa’s, letting their tongues do the fighting.  Ifelewa grinds her hips against M’Baku’s, cultivating his growth which elicits a moan from deep within him.  M’Baku made all of her worries melt away with ease as his hands reached to bring her thighs up around his waist.

“Wait! Wait!  I can’t, not out here!”  Ifelewa whines, whilst involuntarily locking her legs up around him.

M’Baku sneers as he pulls her underwear to the side, looking down at her in marvelous wonder.  “I can’t let this juice go to waste, my love.  I prefer fresh squeezed.”  He takes his hand between her legs as she grip his shoulders, bracing for impact.

Ifelewa whimpers as M’Baku slowly plunges two thick fingers within her center.  M’Baku finds her G-spot without much searching as she confirm his findings with a pleasured moan.

“Do you like me feeling you inside, entle?”  M’Baku says deeply, his voice coated in sensuality.

She rests her head against the wall as she feels a wave coming on, nodding vehemently, “Uh-huh…”

M’Baku pumps his fingers within her walls looking deeply into her eyes, getting off on her tortured expression.  “You are making a mess of my hand, my love.  Are you trying to get me back for the rain?”

She tries to avoid his gaze by looking at the weather outside to distract from her pending orgasm.  Breathless, she says, “No, you can’t blame me.  You started it.”

M’Baku takes her chin to force her to look at him.  “And I plan to finish.  But you will need to work for it, Iffie.”

Looking into M’Baku’s eyes, his forehead wrinkled in concentration of her, and his thumb now working her clit like a joystick, Ifelewa locks her legs and arms onto M’Baku to ride his knuckles as she chokes on her climax.  M’Baku feels her clenching around him and pumps her canal to help drive out her orgasm a little more.

M’Baku watches her face stretch as she whines and curses him for what he has done.  He snuggles into her neck, sucking it, breathing into her skin to drive her absolutely mad.  Ifelewa bites into his shoulder to keep from waking the whole neighborhood.  

M’Baku finally finishes with her, pulling out his fingers from her, making her body jolt from sensitivity.  She slowly brings her legs down from him to stand, but he wisely holds her close or she were sure to stumble.  She rests her head against his shoulder, catching her breath, but feeling light enough to fly.  She sees him surveying his hand, “You see all of that you did?”

She hides her  face in his chest with embarrassment, “Please, don’t make me blush.  You are always playing.”

M’Baku looks over his shining hand, covered in her love as he gives it a taste, groaning with satisfaction.  “Mm, just the dessert I needed.”

Ifelewa feels turned on all over again as she looks up at M’Baku starry eyed.  “I hope you don’t think we are done here…” as she traces his erection through his pants.

M’Baku shrugs, pretending like it is nothing, “I thought you were too tired, or hungry-”

She puts a finger to his lips, “You know better than to argue with me.  Come on.”

They make it back inside, kissing  each other like first love teenagers as they claw at each others clothing.

“Baba?”  

M’Baku and Ifelewa break like children caught in the wrong as little Monife rubs her eye sleepily.

“Yes, Fefe.  What are you doing up?”  M’Baku says covering himself until he simmered down.

“The thunder outside woke me up.  I got scared.”

M’Baku and Ifelewa looked at one another hoping it was just thunder she heard.  “It’s ok sweetie.  I will tuck you in.  How about a story?”  M’Baku goes to walk her upstairs.

“M’Baku!  Maybe wash your hands….after being outside….”  Ifelewa tries to discreetly signal for his to clean up after their romp.

M’Baku nods as the lightbulb in his head goes off, “Right!  Fefe, hang on while Baba rinses a little.  You know how we have to clean up after being outside.”  

Once M’Baku finally gets Monife upstairs, Ifelewa takes advantage of the plate waiting on her in the oven.  M’Baku did a pretty good job as she finally gets a substantial meal in her belly.   Ifelewa rubs her tummy for good measure, dreaming of the life growing within her being healthy and strong.  She planned to tell M’Baku probably in the morning, since it may be a mood killer if they continue their romancing tonight: she didn't want him holding back.  

Putting away her plate, Ifelewa makes her way upstairs to peek in Monife’s room.  M’Baku had Monife laying on him instead of the bed, since his size prevented them from laying side by side on her toddler bed.  M’Baku read from  storybook as Monife lightly snored against his chest.  Ifelewa’s heart swelled at his attentiveness with his children.  She would’ve put the book down as soon as the children stilled to rest, but M’Baku swears that they never stay asleep until the story is finished, even if they sleep part of the way in.

Ifelewa goes in their bedroom, stretching as she slowly feels overcome with sleep.  She begins to strip her clothes off to get ready for bed.  While finding a shirt, she hears the door open and clothes behind her.  

Looking behind she sees M’Baku standing against the door, grinning hard.  

Ifelewa shakes her head continuing to look for a bed shirt.  “That little girl has you wrapped around her finger.  What are you grinning about?”  

M’Baku’s footsteps fall behind you as you hear clothing drop to the floor.  “And not long ago I had you wrapped around mine…..When were you going to tell me?”

Ifelewa’s heart picks up pace in her chest.  “What do you mean?”  She turns to see M’Baku sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed, stark nude.

M’Baku looks up at her confused, “My love, are you trying to hide it?”  

She leans on the dresser, taking a breath, “No, never.  I wanted to tell you in the morning, but….how did you know?”

M’Baku leans on his knees looking ahead.  “I wondered about it today.  You have been excited about this trip for months, but you have been the least excited since we have been here.  Tired, emotional, the works.”

Ifelewa looks to M’Baku empathetically as she began to sit next to him on the bench.   M’Baku blocks her path, beckoning her to sit on his lap.  Ifelewa takes her place on his ample thighs.

M’Baku rests a hand on her hips, and another across her legs as Ifelewa hugs his shoulders.  “You also tasted different.”

Ifelewa’s mouth dropped open at that comment.  “Well I don’t know how to take that information!”

M’Baku laughs, “It’s not bad.  You are sweeter, I noticed.  It may be due to what you crave while pregnant, but it’s noticeable.”

“That reminds me; you didn’t eat all of the strawberries, did you?”  Ifelewa asked.  Those were a particular strong craving of hers.

“No, and I’ll get you as many as you need.  And if you want a portobello burger, I can get that for you.”  M’Baku takes his hand to her stomach, rubbing it gently.

Ifelewa rests a hand over his, “Ugh, I really wanted one too.”

M’Baku chuckles, “You are so silly to try and be sneaky, you missed out on a good meal.  I saw your test in the bathroom earlier as well.”

“My goodness, M’Baku, you found everything!”  She exclaimed.

M’Baku shrugs looking up at his wife eyes widened and glistening, “A husband always knows, but that confirmed it.  Are you happy?”

Ifelewa gripped around his neck tighter, beaming.  “Ecstatic!  I just hoped you would be happy.  I know the three we have can be a lot to handle on their own.”

“I lead an army of men on a regular basis.  Trust me, the children are easier.  And this one will be a welcome addition.”

Ifelewa rubbed her hands across her husband’s hair, bringing her forehead to his.  “Hanuman, bless this child.  Let them come into this world, healthy, strong.  Let them learn compassion, refrain from ignorance, for they are already loved unconditionally.”  M’Baku prays between them before letting his lips meet hers.  Ifelewa deepens the kiss, suddenly needing all of her husband at that moment.  She feels him becoming excited beneath her legs; M’Baku parts her legs to feel her vulva slickening.

“Uh uh.  You will not lead this again.”  Ifelewa takes M’Baku’s hand away to straddle his lap.  M’Baku smiles broadly at his wife taking charge, as she snakes her hand down beneath her, touching him.  The tip of his dick is wet with precum as she takes her fingers to spread it down his shaft.  M’Baku’s head leans back, surrendering to her hand as  his hips buck up.  His hands traverse her thighs, making it up to her ass, giving it a hearty smack.

Ifelewa yelps out, licking her lips.  “Ohh, are you growing impatient, Baku?”

M’Baku looks over her body, snaking his hand up the nape of her neck.  “I just want to see that pretty pussy over yours at work, is all.  I know it’s ready.”

M’Baku wasn’t lying there, as Ifelewa’s walls clenched at the very mention of them.  Instead, Ifelewa drug his tip around the perimeter of her opening.  “How does that work for you?”

She felt M’Baku’s resistance, trying to move things along.  “My love, why do you tease me?  Do you see what this does to me?  I’m going to go insane.”   M’Baku did look desperate as his breathing became labored, taking one of her breasts into his mouth hungrily.  Ifelewa loses her train of thought, losing get grip on his dick to hold onto M’Baku’s head, clawing at his hair as he lapped at your nipples.  His tongue encircled her areola as he grabbed her hips to grind against his dick. Ifelewa arched into him as her clit receives stimulation from the friction, coupled with the arousal produced by his mouth on her tit, Ifelewa was almost there.  

Just as M’Baku sucked just about her total essence out from her, he found a chance to ease his dick inside of her begging entrance.  Ifelewa let out a gasp as he stretched her out, slowly, agonizingly.

“Ah, Baku, please…”  Ifelewa whines.

M’Baku comes off of her tit looking smug.  “Are you begging again?”

She nods, “Please, I want you to move.”

“I’m not sure, you are so tight.  Are you close?”  M’Baku whispers, biting his lip as he pushes further into her.

Ifelewa nods, “I’m afraid so.”

“Ohhh, so impatient we are.”  M’Baku tosses the remark right back at her as he leans back, inching a little off of the bench, before beginning his rhythm into her.

Ifelewa leans on M’Baku’s chest as his hips cause her to bounce against him, intensifying  the wave of pleasure within her sex.

The applause of their skin against each other brought her over the edge as her nails dug into his skin.

“That’s it, entle, let yourself go on me.  I can take it.”  M’Baku encouraged her as he plunged balls deep, working her hips to stimulate her clit again.

Ifelewa was almost near tears, gripping breasts for sanity.  “Baku, you’re so deep.  I’m already pregnant, remember?”

This sparked something in M’Baku as he gave her behind a slap once more.  “Come up here.”

Breathless, Ifelewa follows his instructions, crawling up his body until her thighs became his earmuffs.  M’Baku growled low from underneath her.  “Ahh, look at that pretty pussy.”  He gives it healthy lick.  “Wet just for me.”  He spreads her lips wider, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue.  “I see it talking, baby.  I hear you.”  M’Baku then plunges his stiffened tongue into her entrance, tongue fucking her without abandon.  Ifelewa’s thighs seize up at the overstimulation of her sensitivity, bowing down on her hands and knees, unable to straighten out her body from all the arousal.

M’Baku hums into her vulva, sending vibration between her lips as he sucks her off.

“I’m cu-cu-ohhh!!”  Ifelewa couldn’t get it out, but her moans said it all.

“Yes, my girl.  Cum on my face for me.”  M’Baku says encouragingly, shaking her ass cheeks as he shakes his head into her vulva with aroused enthusiasm.

M’Baku leaves her cunt a moment, giving Ifelewa what she thought was a chance to breathe, as she begins to collapse to the bed.

“Uh, uh!  Leave your ass in the air for me.”  M’Baku commands.  Ifelewa stays face down, ass up as she looks behind at M’Baku stroking his impressive girth in his hands.  Looking over her back end with a tantalizing appetite, he says, “Your pussy is so beautiful covered in cream.  Go ahead and rub it in.”

Ifelewa reaches her hand to feel the wetness of her cunt as she plays with her pussy, rubbing all of their love concoction into her vulva.  The stimulation makes her legs shake involuntarily, “Like this?”  she asks.

M’Baku’s hand rests on the small of her back as he groans with approval.  “Yesss, just like that, entle.  Keep doing it,  I want you to cum on me one more time for me.”

Ifelewa maintains a circular motion on her clit as M’Baku dives into her pussy once more, sending her body into shock as he strokes within her faster now.

“Ahh.  I can’t wait for you to have my baby.”  M’Baku groans.

Ifelewa nods into the mattress, “I love carrying your baby.”

M’Baku grunts, hitting his hips into her cheeks faster.  “And I love making them with you, ahh.”

Ifelewa grips the comforter as she feels her G spot getting activated, “Ohhh, please fill my pussy, Baku.  I’m almost there!”

M’Baku grips her waist tightly as his stroke becomes more labored, “For Hanuman’s sake, you’re gripping me so tightly!”  

Ifelewa got off right at that moment, “Ohh fuck!  Baku, yes!  Give it to me, that’s it!”

With Ifelewa’s encouragement, M’Baku laid her prone against the bed, resting his hand on hers as he busted inside of her, emptying every bit of his pent up seed within her walls.  He groaned as his dick spazzed within her until he was wrung dry.

M’Baku peppered Ifelewa’s back with kisses.  “I love you so much, umfazi.  I don’t know if you understand how much.”  M’Baku pulls out from her, laying next to her side, kissing her hand.

Ifelewa could barely open her eyes as her husband wore her down to dust.  She felt high from his love,  trying her best to concentrate,  she nodded sleepily.  “Mhm, I do.  I have devoted my life to you, until death.  And even then, I will love you.”

M’Baku rubs her back as her eyes close.  “My wife, mother of my children, I am so grateful for you.   I will make an appointment with the midwife so we can see her soon as-”

M’Baku stops talking once he hears her light snoring.  He kisses her forehead, studying her face as she rests.  “Sleep well, my love, and my littlest.  May we remain prosperous.”

Other Works:

King Kil’mawalls  

T’akia

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others

The Coffee Prince

Commencement Day

Wakanda Got Y’all

If I Could Do It All Again

#SundaySweat

Song of Stevens

Signs of Rain

RagTag

@chaneajoyyy @afraiddreamingandloving @yaachtynoboat711 @theunsweetenedtruth  @maliadestiny @syreanne @allhailnjadaka @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @great-neckpectations @bidibidibombaclaat

[seras92]

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Hey there, my name is Shanna. I am a twenty six year old lady who lives in the Pacific Time zone. I have an itch for some roleplaying and I’m hoping to find some long term partners!

Before I start, let’s get the hard part over with; the rules. I’m pretty lenient when it comes to rping, I don’t expect too much but due to the past, I feel like I should go over what I’m looking for and what i’m not looking for.

First and foremost, be respectful. This is more aimed towards male rper unfortunately. If you guys are looking for someone who just wants to smut or someone to flirt with and basically ignore the rp altogether, I am not your girl. I am here to make long term friends and roleplay, nothing more.

Ladies, if you are looking for someone to play strictly male, I am not your girl. I love a good compromise and if you don’t mind playing male, cool but if you want to play female, we can come up with something. We can world build and mae multi couples, I also love  side characters in rps! Let’s compromise and make it work.

Don’t ghost me. If something doesn’t work out or you don’t like the direction of the rp, let me know. If you have personal issues going on and need to stop, that’s alright! I get it! We all have lives outside of rp but let a girl know. Seriously, it’s been such a problem that it’s getting disheartening.

Please understand, life comes first. As much as I love rping, I have responsibilities in my personal life. Work, school, my four month old kitten. Life piles up and depending on the time of day, I might not be able to rp all the time. Please. Don’t. Spam. Me. That makes me absolutely nervous and it will not make me respond any faster.

Be over eighteen. For obvious reasons, ahem, smut.

If you’re still reading, congratulations! Now, we can get to the nitty gritty; the actual roleplaying!

Plot wise, I am looking for something filled with drama, romance a bit of angst. Something more on the realistic side though I do love my fair share of supernatural plots as well and would love to explore that. As for pairings, I mostly do MxF and F//, though I usually play female, I wouldn’t mind playing male as long as we both have a chance to play female!

I am also big on world building. Mood boards, play list, bring them to me! The more we can gush about our characters and their world, the more fun it will be for the both of us!

Plot Bunnies

Exes who fall in love again

Best friends who reconnect after years apart

Offspring of fairy tales

Mafia romance plot

One night stand ends in pregnancy

College Love

Soulmate tattoo plot

Good girl (boy) falls for bad boy (girl)

Poly relationships

Seven Deadly sins falling for a human

Angel and Demon forbidden

Forbidden love such as age gap (within reason), step siblings, any other taboo relationship.

Teacher and student

Princess gets kidnapped by a thief and they end up falling in love while on the run.

Human in deep despair encounters a god/goddess/angel

Stripper and client fall in love

Opposites attract

Sub/Dom relationship

Boss and employee relationship

Marriage arrangement

Possible Fandoms (Oc x Canon only)

Osomatsu san

My Hero Academia

Danganronpa

RWBY

Blue Exorcist

Fruits Basket

Monster Prom

Servamp

Lucifer

Food Fantasy

Riverdale

Dream Daddy (Amanda Centric)

Now for everyone’s favorite part, smut. Please be okay with smut because I like to include this into any plot. I do not fade to black. I’m pretty comfortable and open with suggestions and I do have a few kinks that aren’t too over the top. These include public sex, light bondage, involve toys, emotional attachment.

However, I DON’T do porn without plot. Meaning, the plot cannot be forgotten about because it is very important. If it fits into the moment than that’s great but let’s not force it and let’s not rush. I also have limits; no pedophile, no beastility, no blood, no violence, no hardcore rape. Overall, just respectful and communicate, it’s all about having fun.

Some last little nuggets I want to leave you all with! Like I said, I mainly want to have fun and make friends! I love creating worlds and stories while also talking to people. I am that partner that loves making playlist, moodboards and gushing over characters while making worlds. I would love someone with the same energy as that!

But all in all, I want us both to enjoy ourselves! Please come with ideas as well and an open mind! :D

If you made it this far and you’re interested, yay! Send me your favorite color and an introduction of who you are and what you’re interested in so we can get started :D

Contact

Email: Hunieangelrp@gmail.com

Discord: Seras Moonfry#6596

Tumblr: Shannasplayground92 (if you can't me add my discord, you can always message me on Tumblr and give me your discord :))

[jinterlude]

"Romantic” Bonding Time

↳This story aesthetic is made by yours truly. I do not own the rights to any of the images used.

➳ Pairing: Gang Member!Mark Lee x Superhero!Reader (female OC)

➳ Genre(s): Superhero!AU, Superpowers!AU, Gang!AU, MCU, Humor, Fluff, Action, & Slight-Angst

➳ Words: 5.7K

➳ Summary: Having yet another date night ruined, you, your brother, and the gang, NCT 127, are called once again to protect the city of Seoul. After discovering that you and brother possess two stones that can enhance the ability of the six infinity stones, Thanos sends Ebony Maw to retrieve them. The two of you continue to battle until Haechan causes an explosion that causes the deformed octopus to retreat. Now, in the rainy city of London, both you and Mark are on a mission to find him. What can possibly go wrong?

Cars zoom by. Screaming, panicking bystanders run as if their lives depend on it. A new threat has come out to play with the beautiful city of Seoul as its backyard.

A menacing laughter fills the atmosphere while a fiery blaze colors the blank night sky. With his army of minions by his side, Ebony Maw, destroys everything and kills everyone in sight. He is given the greatest of privileges by Thanos. He is tasked with retrieving two of the most powerful stones, outside of the six infinity stones. Legends say that the universe has created these stones to enhance the abilities of the other six. Like a supporting system one can say.

Many people, both outside and inside the Milky Way galaxy, have tried to find these stones and claim it for their own but alas, many have failed.

That is…

Until a certain enhanced pair of siblings received them as a last gift from their mother.

Now, they have sworn to protect their beloved country from any invaders that have a sudden lapse in judgement and want to attack anything and anyone under their jurisdiction. Of course, they are times where the dynamic duo has done enough damage to the buildings to the point that their structural integrity has come into question. However, they always brought their president results, and that is more than enough for the government.

At the end of the day, if their city is safe, then it is quite alright with them.

Currently, on a black and white street bike, you are zooming by hundreds of cars, who are going in the opposite direction, with the adrenaline pumping throughout your veins. You rev up your bike, adding more speed, and continue to maneuver through the debris that the Squidward wannabe is hauling at you.

Damn. To think all you’ve asked for was some quality time with your boyfriend, and you get this. What a great date night!

          “Yuta, his buddies are heading towards Hongdae,” You begin, speaking through the shared audio device, “Do you and WinWin want to take care of that?” You ask, activating one of your many abilities. Not even a moment later, you hear Yuta say that he and WinWin will head over there ASAP. You utter a quick thank you as you begin the process of another ability that you possess.

Speaking of which…

The abilities that you possess is based off moon and its lunar cycle. Depending on where it is at, you can either go full defense, offense, or a combination of both. Lucky for you, the lunar cycle is heading towards a full moon, so that means you get to go all out and have a bit of fun. It’s always fun time when you possess the ability of lunar manipulation. You have access to everything and anything associated with the beloved moon.

Holding out your right hand; your palm visible to everyone, you gather enough energy for form this ball of energy. Aligning up your hand, you release a thick beam of lunar energy at the minions, who think it's wise to block your path.

          “Okay…question!” You hear Doyoung through the intercoms, “Why did you have me design a weapon specific for your abilities, and you don’t use it!” He complains, causing you, your brother and the rest of NCT 127 to laugh.

          “I’m sorry Doyoung but given the fact that I’m on a street bike and being chased by Squidward on crack, I think using your specialized weapon is the last thing on my mind right now.” You explain, continuing to attack anything that has gotten in your way.

While with Doyoung, he simply sighs, flopping back in his chair. The joys of being the technology expert for his little gang. He then sits up straight and rolls his chair to a different monitor. He quickly types in some codes and is instantly granted access to your brother's camera feed.

          “How's it going on your end?” He inquires noticing him, Mark, Johnny, and Taeyong struggling a bit.

          “Do I have to answer?!” He hears your brother shout as he sets a few enemies ablaze. Don’t you love having abilities based off the sun?

As if he’s physically there, Doyoung holds up his hands in defense, not wanting to deal with your brother’s infamous temper.

          “Hey now. I am just checking in, especially with your sister sending away Yuta and WinWin to protect Hongdae.” Doyoung states, which instantly alarms Mark.

Mark stops fighting briefly; his pulse pauses as he worries for the woman he loves.

Johnny and Taeyong stop in their actions as well. Not because they worry for Mark’s mindset but because they know how ruthless their chameleon can be when anyone threatens his woman.

This can’t be good…

Taeyong throws his fist back, landing a clean punch on one of the alien invaders. Then, he whips out his favorite gun and fires a few rounds into its skull, hoping that it kills it. It does.

He then rushes over to the second youngest, placing a friendly hand on the boy’s shoulder.

           “Mark…” Taeyong begins, “Y/N is fine. Remember, she has enhanced abilities that —” However before he can finish his sentence, Mark runs towards his street bike, hops on it, and starts it up. Not bothered to wear his helmet, he revs it up and drives to wherever his girlfriend is at.

Your safety is his utmost priority. He knows that his members can take care of themselves. Plus, they have your brother, so they have an extra layer of protection.

Johnny watches his retreating body, letting out a long sigh.

           “You know…” He pauses, taking a moment to fire his weapon one of the few alien invaders that linger around the area, “I kind of envy him and Y/N.” He confesses.

Y/B/N perks up his brow, finding his statement both odd and amusing.

           “Why’s that?” He asks.

           “Because, Mark has time to love his woman amidst this chaos while I barely have time to tinker with our weapons and make them even better.” Johnny answers, reloading his favorite semi-automatic just in case there’s another swarm.

Both Taeyong and Y/B/N laugh at his statement before agreeing with them. In their line of work, it is quite difficult to maintain a relationship. There are days where they are lonely for companionship. On the other hand, with a few of them loving the idea of playing the field, a simple one-night stand will satisfy their manly urges…

Currently fighting as if your life depends on it, you hide behind a cracked pillar, catching your breath and replenishing your energy. This Ebony Maw fella really wants both yours and your brother’s stone.

           “Come out. Come out. You should think of this as an honor. Only a select few can say that they have died at the hands of the children of Thanos.” You hear that creeper’s voice state, further irking you.

An almost animalistic growl emerges from your lips. This asshole has done an excellent job at annoying you to no end, and the weekend isn’t even over yet!

Channeling all of your energy into the palms of your hand, moisture from the air begins to attract to them.

Slowly, it begins to take the shape of your favorite weapon—a Korean style katana. You always do love shedding the blood of your enemies with it.

With one deep breath, you slowly exhale, allowing the nerves to exit your precious body. For this fight, you can’t afford to lose focus. If you do, then everyone you have come to love and cherish will die. It will be a cold day in Hell if someone you love dies on your watch.

Not again. Not ever again.

You open your eyes, taking a step behind the pillar. You swing your katana, hearing this whishing sound from the blade as it cuts through the air.

A smug smirk graces his face as Ebony Maw holds up two fingers, summoning all of the debris from the ground and shaping them into sharp points. Sharp enough to penetrate your body over and over until you bleed to your death. A painfully slow death that you’ll never wish to experience.

You draw back your sword before letting out this battle cry filled with your pent-up rage as you rush him.

Ebony Maw flings the sharpened debris at you, desperately wanting to please his master.

You swing your sword in every direction, deflecting every single one of them, as you close the gap between you and the pain in the ass that has overstayed his welcome.

Using one of the destroyed cars as leverage, you jump on the hood, adding more momentum, before flinging yourself at him. However, that’s a foolish decision on your part.

With just a flick of his wrist, he forces your body to the side. He has hoped to capture you and your brother alive, but one out of two isn’t so bad. Like how he’s a rock in your boots, you’re annoying thorn on his side and quite frankly, he wants you dead more than alive.

           “Shit!” You curse, knowing that your defensive abilities are nonexistent at the moment.

You slam your eyes shut, bracing for impact; however, instead of landing on the cold hard ground, you feel a pair of arms around your body, securing themselves on your waist.

           “Looks like I’m saving you this time, huh baby girl?” You hear a familiar arrogant voice say.

You pry one eye open before opening the other. A breath of relief escapes your lips as a warm smile begins to take shape. Though, you soon pause as you realize that your amazing boyfriend has put himself in harm’s way—again.

Realizing that he has picked the wrong time to play hero, you scramble off of him and punch him square in the shoulder.

           “What are you doing here, Mark?!” You question loudly as you protect both you and him from Ebony Maw’s attack.

Mark yelps, rubbing his now injured shoulder, “Okay…! Ow!” He gives you a look of disbelief, “I’m here rescuing my woman from the drugged-up octopus!” He replies in an obvious tone of voice.

You can’t help but gawk at his words. While you do appreciate that he has come to your rescue, you want to choke him for failing in realizing that Ebony Maw can easily kill him without lifting more than two fingers.

           “I appreciate the thought, babe. I do, but as you can see, his threat level—” You suddenly stop mid-sentence as you throw your body over Mark, shielding him from one of the cars that Ebony Maw has graciously given you two.

Without a second a thought, you press your earpiece, activating the link between you and the rest of the team.

           “Guys…a little help here!” You request loudly as both you and Mark scramble to your feet and rush to cover.

           “Haechan is on his way!” The two of you hear Doyoung announce and just as he says that you hear Haechan’s cheery voice tell you and Mark to get away from the zone of impact.

A look of confusion washes over your faces but instead of verbally questioning, the two of you do as your told.

           “I always wanted to test out my new invention, cherry bomb!” Haechan shouts happily as he grabs a few interestingly designed explosives from his pockets and fling them around the perimeter.

           “Cherry bomb?” Mark asks, observing an almost maniacal smile on his closest friend’s face.

Instead of answering, Haechan simply holds out the trigger presses the red button, activating the explosives one by one. As each bomb goes off, the explosives produce different colors of smoke; a smoke that is toxic to anyone who inhales it. Originally, Haechan has hoped to use his beautiful creation on enemy gangs throughout South Korea but considering their predicament, he might as well test it out now.

Your eyes widen at the rather colorful sight that the explosives are producing. While with Mark, he slowly nods, finally understanding why Haechan calls it, “Cherry Bomb”

           “Isn’t this a tad overboard?” You asks, turning your attention towards the explosive expert.

Haechan gasps, feeling a bit insulted by your words.

           “Nonsense! While, I don’t think it’s enough to kill him, I do think it’s enough to distract him enough for us to get away.” He answers as the toxic clouds begin to disperse.

Just as you are about to answer, you notice that Ebony Maw’s silhouette is not seen.

Odd…

Feeling a bit anxious, you quickly tell Mark and Haechan to ready up just in case he comes for a surprise attack.

Your eyes scan the area; your breath a bit shaky. There’s no way that something simple as toxic cloud can make him retreat so easily.

The three of you continue to wait, feeling the cool breeze brush by your bodies. It’s as if the wind is warning you of what’s to come next. Yet, that moment never came.

           “Doyoung, scan for his whereabouts.” You quickly instruct as you hear the collected roar from a few engines. You instantly snap towards the direction of the noise; your guard at an all time high and ready to fight once more.

Thankfully, your mind registers that it’s only Taeyong, Johnny, and your brother. When you quickly ask about Yuta, WinWin, Jungwoo, and Taeil’s location, Johnny informs you that they have gone back to headquarters. You quickly thank the stars that everyone is alive with only a few injuries.

           “No sign of the Squidward on crack or any of his creepy Resident Evil like minions.” You hear Doyoung announce, lifting a huge weight off your shoulders. Though, deep down, you know he’s going to come back for you and your brother soon.

Honestly, you want to take the fight to him instead of allowing him to wreak havoc on your beloved country. Your home has suffered enough because of him.

Now, it’s time to put a stop to him once and for all.

           “Let’s head back to base. We have some things to sort out. I want him dead once and for all…”

A few days later, you and Mark are currently on a plane heading towards England. Why? Well, it’s because of Doyoung’s brilliant plan. He believes that Ebony Maw has retreated to a different country in order to find the other stones. When you’ve asked him why, Doyoung told you that it’s more than likely because his master ordered him too.

Not knowing who his master is can be unsettling for anyone, but for you and your brother, it’s quite the opposite. If anything, this is like an arousing game of who’s the true puppet master, and the two of you are ready to play.

Staring out the window, you absentmindedly run your fingers through Mark’s hair as you take in the different color hues that paint the sky. You admire the tranquility that radiates from the empty sky as the plane continues to penetrate the puffs of clouds. Fluffy clouds that remind you of pillows on your childhood bed.

Oh, how you miss the simple life. Before you and your brother have discovered the “blessing” that is your gifts. Blessing? More like curse. It is because of them that your parents are no longer on this Earth. It is because of them that your aunt and uncle are being protected by the agency known as S.H.I.E.L.D.

Honestly, you just want it all to end.

Yet…

At the same time, you know that it can’t end.

So as long as you and your brother live and breathe, the two of you will continue to protect the people since you know that they can’t protect themselves.

You both have taken an oath to protect the country of South Korea, and that’s what you will do…

Slowly, a soft sigh escapes your lips as you pry your eyes away from the window and pull down the shutter. You trail your eyes down and notice Mark’s peaceful sleeping face. A warm smile appears on your face as you can’t help but look at him with complete love and adoration.

You can’t help but shake your head as you recall the first day you’ve met this young man. Under a fake alias, you and Y/B/N have enrolled at the School of Performing Arts even though you’re currently “preparing” to make your big debut. There, you’ve had your first run in with Mark and his little gang of delinquents. Little did you know that day, him and the rest of NCT 127 would be the backing force that your team has been missing.

           “Okay, why are staring at me like that?” You hear Mark say in a sleepy tone of voice.

You immediately snap out of your thoughts and kiss him sweetly on the nose.

           “Nothing. I was just admiring how different you become when you’re not talking.” You tease with a playful smile on your lips.

Mark rolls his eyes as he sits up and stretches out his neck muscles. Instead of retaliating, Mark asks how much longer they have on the plane. He’s starting to get a bit anxious as he shakes his leg. He never does like being in one place for more than thirty minutes.

One of the downsides to being the group’s chameleon man. He always has to blend in with the crowd and make sure that no one can retrace his steps.

To calm his nerves, you lean over your seat and place a loving yet soft kiss on his lips. As you are about to pull away, you feel his hand rest against the back of your neck, keeping you in place. You can’t help but laugh into the kiss because of his sudden courageous action. Where’s your shy boyfriend?

The two of you finally pull away and as you do, you hear the one announcement that anyone on a ten hour plus flights longs to hear.

           “This is your captain speaking. Please buckle up your seat belts as we are about to descend onto the runway.” Announces the flight captain.

Mark shouts a quick, “Finally!”, as he swiftly buckles his seat belt, grinning from ear-to-ear.

You shake your head, chuckling at your other half’s sudden childish behavior.

You really can’t take him anywhere…

After what seemed like forever doing the whole airport check in procedure, both you and Mark now stand out in the pouring rain, not caring that you guys are becoming soaked.

Before executing your plan, you quickly establish a connection between you and Doyoung. You see his face pop up on the projector and proceed to ask him about any intel he has gathered while you were up in the air.

           “Nothing new since you left, boss.” He says as he types away on his mini laptop.

Your lips purse as you nod. You then tell him to keep an eye on your brother and provide him with whatever support he needs.

Doyoung laughs at how overprotective you are when it comes to your sibling, but he understands why. You two have been inseparable since you were children, so it’s

kind of weird to be on this mission, and you two aren’t together.

He’s in Spain while you’re in London. Two different parts of the world yet so close in a way.

Oh well…

           “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll make sure that Y/B/N is safe from harm, though, you and I both know that he can take care of himself. Especially, since he has Jungwoo, Yuta, and Taeil with him. Doyoung out!” He says before terminating the connection.

While Doyoung’s words have this feeling of reassurance, you don’t feel it. You’ll always worry for your younger brother.

Noticing the worried expression painted on your face, Mark wraps a loving arm around your shoulders as he places a sweet kiss on your drenched hair. He then sweetly whispers words of comfort, hoping that he can wash away your concerns away.

           “Now, let’s go find this asshole. I’m already kind of sick of this rain.” Mark says, causing you to giggle.

You nod and lead the two of you to the warehouse that Doyoung has graciously found for you guys.

What?

You can’t do your fighting in simple street clothes…

Now standing in front of what it seems to be an abandoned building, you look at your watch, courtesy of Jungwoo, and press a combination of buttons; thus, activating a tiny drone. You then command the small device to scan the building for any signs of foreign life. If it comes up positive, then that means some sort of alien invader is in there. Hopefully, it means that Ebony Maw is being coward and is hiding inside.

What a bitch…

Seconds later, your watch beeps, telling you that there’s no sign of foreign life inhabiting the building.

Okay. Odd.

With a short sigh, you command the drone to return to your headquarters and then tell Mark that it looks like you have to do it the old fashion way.

You unhook a few explosives that looks like an ordinary clock and hand them to Mark. Before fully handing them over, you quickly ask if he knows how to handle Haechan’s rather special inventions.

Mark’s body tenses at your question. Shit. Should he tell the truth or tell a white lie? Well, he did pay attention to Haechan when he explained what they did before they all went their separate ways—sort of.

           “Of course. I know how to use these.” He lies flawlessly, flashing a bright smile.

You raise your brow briefly. Your gut tells you that Mark’s lying, however, you choose to believe him since it’s just the two of you, and you definitely do not know how to use Haechan’s explosives.

Without a moment to spare, you hand over the time bombs before breaking down the door. You signal Mark to follow closely behind and have his firearm ready to use.

As soon as you step inside, you are instantly blinded by this luminescence light. It also doesn’t help that the entire walls are painted white, so the lights are reflecting off it.

And you thought that your brother’s solar flare attack were blinding. Nope. This takes the cake.

The two of you continue down the empty, quiet corridor. Both of you on high alert as you inspected every single room throughout the first floor.

After seeing yet another empty room, you and Mark stand up straight; this feeling of confusion washes over you.

What is going on here?

           “I’m not sensing any forms of life at all in this building, babe…” says Mark as he’s reading some sort of date from his phone.

You make a noise as your lips thin. You refuse to believe that there’s no one in this building.

Slowly, you inhale and exhale deeply. That tiny action always calms down your nerves before they go into a frenzy.

           “Okay. I think we should split up,” You begin, summoning a katana in your right hand, “I’m going to check the rest of the floors while you go check out the basement. If you find any suspicious activity, I want you to plant those explosives in those said areas. Got it?” You finish relaying your plan.

Mark stares at you, secretly hating the idea of the two of you splitting up; however, he knows that you’ll be safe, and your plan seems flawless.

In a reluctant tone, he says okay before running off towards the basement area.

You remain in your place, silently summoning this gravitational barrier around Mark.

You pray to the Gods that your shield will protect him from harm’s way before taking off towards the second and third floor. You kick open the door leading to the stairwell. A loud bang echoes throughout the building. You practically fly up the stairs and in a blink of an eye, you are already on the second floor.

You remain in place as you take a moment to listen for any suspicious sounds. Your eyes scan every detail of the hallway. Taking note of, again, how clean it looks. A little too clean for your liking.

Once you are greeted with silence, you make the executive decision to not check the rooms. Maybe you’ll have some sort of luck on the third floor.

You dash down the hallway; only the sound of your boots meeting the tile floor is heard. You feel the air slowly leave your lungs as you exert every ounce of stamina you have left.

With the adrenaline fueling your desire—your need—to put an end to this, you sprint up the next flight of stairs leading to the third floor…

You push open the door and instead of being greeted with the usual bright, clean scenery, you take note of the flickering lights. The cracks on the wall as if someone or something landed a nice clean hit on it. Your eyes trail up and you see that a few bulbs on the “EXIT” sign is blown out.

Okay…

Why the sudden change in appearance?

Then, it hits you. Maybe this is just a distraction, and both you and Mark have fallen right for it.

Shit…

You frantically survey the area, focusing all your energy in your hearing. You wait a few moments as you hear nothing but dripping sounds echo throughout the corridor.

A cold gush of air brushes past you causing you to lose focus for a split moment.

Then, sounds of lively chatters surface. You direct your attention towards the area where it originates before running towards it.

Now standing in front of a door, you lean close enough to confirm your suspicion.

Yup…

There it is…

Something or someone is on the other side, and they are definitely not alone.

You slowly exhale before gathering enough energy to activate both an offense and defensive ability. You feel this surge of power flow through your veins as it spreads to your hands. This white, holy aura surrounds your body as you become prepared to handle anything and everything that comes your way.

Just as you are about to use your gravity manipulation ability to force the door open, the floor suddenly shakes. You feel this gigantic tremor beneath your feet as if an earthquake just happened.

Then, this loud explosion sounds throughout the building.

Your eyes immediately widen as you conclude that without a doubt, Mark has activated Haechan’s “0 MILE” explosive.

As you are about to rush to Mark’s aid, you hear the door open, causing you to get into a fighting stance.

You ball up one of your hands into a fist while the other is gathering any debris in the building.

           “What are you doing breaking and entering in a federal government building?” asks an older gentleman with in a posh accent.

Wait…did he just say government building?

You and Mark are currently in a government building?!

Not wanting to humiliate your country, especially the president, you come out of your fighting stance.

A nervous chuckle escapes your lips before you sprint off to find Mark and leave this burning building.

           “I already phoned the police!” You hear the man shout as you exit to the stairwell and continue your journey.

Oh…

You are going to kill Doyoung when you get home…

Meanwhile, with Mark, he’s currently planting yet another explosive. Totally unaware that he’s destroying the building structure of a government owned facility.

Whistling a little tune, he winds the clock until it says, “1:27”, and places it on another pillar. He then creates enough distance between him and the bomb and just as he’s about to set it off, he hears you shouting, screaming at him to stop.

Before Mark can ask you why, he feels your hand around his wrist, and he’s now forced away from the area.

With Mark now in tow, the two of you flee the scene of the crime, running with no specific distance in mind, as the sounds of sirens grow near.

You two continue to run away from the soon-to-be crumbling building. Your eyes light up when you see an abandoned alleyway. You roughly pull Mark into it before basically exploding on him for ruining the mission.

The mission where little to no destruction will occur while in a foreign country.

           “This is all your  fault! If you haven’t gotten a little trigger happy, then we wouldn’t be in this position!” You take a deep breath, “I told you to stick to the plan! Remember?! Little to no destruction to this country!” You practically scream at him, ignoring the fact that the loudness of your voice will alert the police to your location.

You honestly don’t care. You are just incredibly pissed off. Not only at him, but Doyoung as well for feeding you false intel.

Mark gasps, feeling a tad offended by your statement.

           “Hey now. If we’re assigning blame, then this is your fault for leaving me alone with explosives in the first place! Especially, after you told me to plant explosives in areas that I thought were strange!” He then starts talking with his hands, “News flash! That entire building screams enemy activity, so it is not my fault!” He argues back, matching the anger in your tone.

An almost animalistic growl leaves your lips. You narrow your eyes; a harsh glare ever so visible. You honestly can’t believe what you are hearing right now.

Is he seriously putting the blame on you?

Seriously, the urge to choke your “incredible” boyfriend is strong within you.

You throw up your hands as an exasperated sigh exits your mouth.

           “Ugh! Why did you volunteer to come with me, knowing that you don’t know how and what Haechan’s fun little gadgets do?” You question, pinching the bridge of your nose as you hope to understand your boyfriend’s random surge of stupidity.

Mark scoffs before puffing out his cheeks, unsure if he wants to confess the truth. The truth of him missing you…

He wants to tell you his reasoning but at the same time, he doesn’t. The last thing he wants is to hear his members teasing him for being open about his feelings towards you.

Though, what he doesn’t realize is that the rest of NCT 127 already know. They aren’t stupid. They observe everything when it comes to their chameleon man.

As time passes, a blanket of awkward tensions covers the two of you as you hear the sirens become closer.

Great. Now, you’re more than likely going to get arrested, and you haven’t resolved your little couple’s spat.

           “Mark, please just talk to me. Why did you lie?” You try again, hoping the animosity in your voice is gone. Raising your voice at him isn’t going to make him talk to you. You have learned that after your first argument, which lasted more than a week.

Mark sighs, hearing the softness in your tone, as he remembers that an open communication is key to any relationship.

           “Okay…I lied about knowing how to work Haechan’s explosives. I just wanted to spend some quality time with you,” He meets your gaze, “It’s been three months since we had an actual date night. Just the two of us. No threats coming at us. No stakeouts. Nothing,” He takes a step towards you, closing the gap between your chests, “Just you and me in our normal civilian clothes and enjoying the night life that Seoul has to offer,” He takes your hands into his, “Remember, that was on your list of things to experience as a normal teenager?” He says, finishing his explanation.

You simply nod, smiling sweetly and softly at him. There’s no need for words.

Mark kisses your knuckles, “I honestly had planned for us to get through this mission with no bumps whatsoever…” He adds, letting out an airy chuckle.

His statement causes you let out an airy chuckle as well.

           “Well, the plan was going great until we got arrested,” You say in a light playful tone as you notice a few officers enter the alleyway, “Ha. Think of our pending jail time as our date night.” You add as you break the loving hold and hold up your hands in surrender.

Mark chuckles at your comment, mimicking your action, “True, though, it would be rather strange that they have arrested a member of the Avengers. Just throwing that out there.”

           “Don’t remind me. Cap’ and Uncle Stark will never let me live this down,” You direct your gaze on Mark, “You do know that they like to treat me as if I’m their own daughter, right?” You tell him as the officers slowly decrease the distance between you guys.

Mark grimaces, “Don’t I know it. I believe Ironman threatened me a few times…” He states, shuddering at the not-so-fond memory of his first meeting with the legend.

You laugh at his remark as you hold out your wrists for the police officers to handcuff you.

           “Wait…aren’t you Y/S/N?” inquires one of the officers, finding it odd that she’s indeed arresting a member of the Avengers.

You only nod, making sure to weaken the gravitational field around Mark. You don’t feel like adding, “assault on an officer” to your pending list of arrests.

           “I’m sorry miss, but not even superheroes are exempted from the law.” The other officer says apologetically as he and the female officer escorts the two of you to their police car.

You tell them that you understand. The law is the law.

           “I’m going to call Doyoung and see if he can get in touch with the president. Maybe he can get us out of this predicament.” Mark whispers to you as you slide into the backseat.

You mumble, “Okay”, before asking,

           “I have a question for you guys,” You begin, waiting to get the okay from the officers.

           “What is it?” the female officer inquires, perking her brow up.

           “Why do you guys call your bars, “pubs”, here?” You question, smiling.

Mark, on the other hand, shakes his head. He would’ve face palmed, but his hands are currently restrained.

           “Why am I with you again?” He asks, though, it’s a rhetorical question.

           “Because you approached me first and kept asking me out until I said yes.” You answer him, failing to realize that it’s a rhetorical question.

           “And I do not regret that decision whatsoever!”

           “But I do…”            “That hurts baby girl. That really hurts.”

A/N: Hi everyone! You are probably surprised to see another one shot! Me too! I think looking at my work (school work + studying) schedule, I have only have time to write on the weekends, unless I have prior engagements to attend. Also, I added a rough estimate to the stories that I have planned out, so that helps me keep accountable/on track. Anyway, this is a response to KPOPWONDERLAND’s 13 days of Horror! I based this story off prompt no.32 (“If we’re assigning blame then this is your fault for leaving me alone with explosives in the first place.”) & no.33  (“The plan was going great until we got arrested.”). As I am the queen of comedy and have a been wanting a Superhero!AU (especially for the Marvel universe), what a better way to write it than during the month of Halloween! :)

Don’t forget to leave a like/reblog/comment/a message in my inbox! I love hearing your thoughts! :)

- Kim

[ashadowcalledkei]

I know, I know, I should be working on my two other fics and am absolutely the worst, but ... well, this idea wouldn’t leave me alone.  So, I decided to start writing this too, and boy it was a great way to break out of writers block and get started again.  And no, this is not part of my normal babyblasters storyline.  WitD, TLtN, and the oneshots are all one connected story, but this is its own thing.  An au of an au (of an au of an ... well you know).  And as such, it’s gonna be very different.  And also a lot shorter.  Yep, short chapters from me for once.  Shocking, I know!  Not too many of them either, I think.  i just wanted to write this sort of on the side to explore a few what-ifs (and because I missed writing nice Gaster!).  (side note; the assistant in this currently has no name or description because ... well I didn’t know who to use.  I might go with one of the followers or Sil (a background oc from To Last the Night) but ... not sure yet. )

Credit where credit is due, I wanted to point out some of the inspirations behind this (and also recommend some awesome fics).  While planning this out I wound up thinking back on two amazing works; A Year Every Minute by @askull4everyoccasion and Creative Problem Solving by bermudablue.  Both of which are fantastic and if you haven’t read either then you should stop right now and go do so.  But oddly enough the real source of inspiration for this story was ... making the babyblaster bjds for spacegate.  I’m not kidding!  I wasn’t going to make a pair for myself until the chest piece I made for hers wound up warping in the oven.  I couldn’t use it for a gift, it didn’t look right anymore, but it was still a functional piece.  So ... well, you’ll see ...

I hope you guys like this little tangent of a fic.

Bend

Pairings: None Characters: W. D. Gaster, 1-S

Warnings:  prepare for unexpected cute (G is not prepared)

Notes: Baby Blasters AU belongs to the wonderful @spacegate​​, I just write here.

Chapter 1

W. D. Gaster stared down at the file in his hands, one foot tapping out an anxious rhythm on the polished tile floor as he read over his own notes for what had to have been the hundredth time.  'Determination Trials', the somewhat worn cover read, 'WDG-DTP5-BP-0018 1-R'.  He flipped through page after page of carefully recorded observations chronicling the process by which subject 1-R had been created.  The ratios of different magics that had been merged to create its soul.  The time it had taken that newly crafted soul to stabilize and the amount of external energy that had to be introduced to achieve that.  Growth rates.  Energy levels.  Liquid magic supplement types.  Everything he'd done had been carefully monitored and recorded, checked and double checked for any signs of irregularities, yet it still hadn't been enough.

'Irreversible soul destabilization.'  The neatly printed words, bold and accusing even in his own signature script, hardly did his failure justice.  After the horrific, liquified mess subjects 1-O  through 1-Q had become only a few short months into their incubation, he'd vowed to find the correct ratio of Determination to monster magic before daring to attempt the procedure again.  And then, after countless hours of calculations and testing, he'd found it.  At long last one of his creations had developed the way it should, forming not only a stable soul but a body as well.  But then, when he'd tried to remove the subject from incubation, everything went wrong.  Due to the influence of Determination on its physical form, 1-R's bones hadn't fully calcified the way they should have and the creature had been unable to support and sustain itself outside of the magic infused liquid it had developed in.  In his eager haste, Gaster hadn't even thought to test for such things.  The fact that the creature would likely have never survived outside containment regardless of if he'd noticed the problem ahead of time or not was little comfort when he'd been forced to clear away the dust of yet another failure.  

The scientist closed the thick folder he held with a weary sigh.  He placed it back at the end of a row of seventeen other similar files and turned his attention to the one folder left sitting on his desk.  Barrier project experiment attempt number nineteen.  Subject 1-S.

Snatching up the file and taking a pen from the deep pockets of his lab coat, Gaster jotted down a few notes to himself as he left his office.  There was so much to be done today.  He'd been in the lab working ever since what passed for dawn in his subterranean home, too anxious to even be tempted by the thought of sleep.  By the time his assistant had come in to join him, already chattering excitedly about the 'big day', he'd run every test imaginable on his latest creation.  

Gaster pocketed his pen and retrieved a large mug of coffee, still sitting by the containment chamber where he'd left it.  The drink was stone cold and bitter, but he was used to that.  He sipped it slowly, barely aware of the flavor so many others found overpowering, as he stood in the pale green glow of the incubation tank.  The tall, glass cylinder was full of a thick liquid made up of mostly synthetic magic.  It sat atop a sturdy metal base which housed the various mechanical parts necessary to keep the mixture warm and ensure the development of the creature housed within it.  And suspended at its center, amidst the various wires and tubes that had sustained it during these long months, was subject 1-S.

Just like each of its predecessors, 1-S was a combination of human and monster soul energies fused together with both science and magic to make something entirely new.  If the creature turned out the way Gaster intended, it would be strong, intelligent, and capable of wielding devastatingly powerful magic.  As strong as a human mage, if his calculations were correct.  And if he could really do it, if he could create not just one but seven of these creatures, they would be a force strong enough to destroy the barrier and free monster kind from the underground.  No more human children unfortunate enough to fall into their realm would have to die.  No more monster children would be sentenced to a lifetime in this dark prison.  They could end generations worth of suffering.  If only his creations would live.  

The creature in the tank was small, smaller than he'd predicted and, in fact, smaller than 1-R had been on the ill-fated day of its extraction.  And just like 1-R, the end result of all the mixed magic types that had come together to form the soul of 1-S had resulted in a creature that could not be easily classified.  It had developed the solidly built legs of a canine, the flexible spine and sharp claws of a feline, and a vaguely reptilian tail.  That odd combination of features was interesting enough, but the unique anatomy of its sloping, crested skull made his creation unlike anything Gaster had seen in any animal or monster.  

Like most of the others that had come before it, 1-S was skeletal in nature.  Unsurprising considering W. D. Gaster himself had been the primary soul energy donor.  It took so much magic and raw life energy to create each one of the experimental souls that, while he did readily make use of donations from the few other researchers aware of the project, the scientist always seemed to find himself running short and filling the gaps with his own magic.  While this did carry a higher risk than he wanted to admit to himself, each time leaving him exhausted and dizzy as he came dangerously close to draining his reserves, he just couldn't bring himself to ask someone else to take that risk for him.  Besides, he always recovered after a few days.  And, in his opinion at least, if the project was successful it would be well worth all the risks.  

There were other benefits to using his own magic as well.  For one thing, it was easier to tack development in a skeletal being.  There was no risk of unseen, internal complications, because there was nothing 'internal' about the creature at all.  Except for its magic, but that was being carefully monitored for any potentially dangerous irregularities.  There were other risk factors to consider, mostly to do with how fragile a young skeleton's physical form could be, but their predominantly magical nature made for even greater potential power.  It was a tradeoff Gaster was more than willing to accept.  

The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention as his assistant came to join him.  “Everything looks good,” they said as they checked something off on a clipboard then flipped it so that Gaster could see what they'd written.  The very same tests he'd run twice himself and had been about to ask them to run as well.  He looked over the numbers, checking them against his own findings.  They couldn't afford any mistakes this time.  

“Alright,” he said, moving his hands in precise gestures that had long ago become second nature to him.  “Let's begin the extraction.”

For the next few minutes, the lab was a flurry of activity.  The large, heavy cap that sealed the incubation chamber was removed and set aside.  Some sequences were terminated while others were started to take their place.  A rush of bubbles rose up through the green liquid and a soft hissing sound emanated from the mechanisms beneath it.  Gaster felt his soul pounding in his chest as the fluid slowly began to drain.  He summoned a set of floating hands, comprised of magic bone much like his attacks but without any hint of harmful intent behind them, and guided them into the cylinder.  Phantom sensations washed over him as he reached into the thick, warm liquid.  Carefully, he cupped the small creature in his hands and held it secure as the liquid slowly drained around it.  It seemed to take forever, but at last the fluid level dipped low and his creation settled into the conjured hands.  

Excitement made the scientist's magic race, but he steadied himself as best he could.  If he rushed things now, he would just be inviting another disaster.  With agonizing slowness, he lifted 1-S, attached monitor cables and all, out of the tube.  His assistant dutifully called out the data their machines were receiving about the creation.  Magic levels steady.  No noticeable variation in DT.  Soul energy spiking, but that was to be expected given the sudden change in circumstances.  He couldn't see any signs of melting or unexpected indentations in the skull.  The scientist called on his own magic, feeling the warmth of energy sparking in his eye sockets, and a pale indigo haze colored the world around him as he used his power to check his creation's soul in a way no machine ever could.  Health, strength, defenses, all on the low side but not unbearably so.  No doubt they would improve with time.  And underneath, there was the pulse of new magic glimmering in shifting shades of blue.

As the sheen of magic faded from his vision, Gaster slowly became aware of a subtle vibration against his conjured hands underscored by the faint rattle of tiny bones.  His creation was shaking in his grasp.  No, he realized, not 'shaking'.  Shivering.  It was cold.  And no wonder, the lab was quite chilly compared to the warmth of the incubation tank.  Gaster levitated the creature closer to him and reached out, carefully taking his creation into his arms.  1-S stirred in his grasp, its tiny body pressing close to his chest.   His magic pulsed a little faster as the skeletal creature nuzzled him, eagerly soaking up his warmth.  It was so small.  So fragile.  Its entire body couldn't have been longer than his radius.  

“Sir?” his assistant said, snapping him back to reality.  They handed him a towel and helped him clean 1-S, wiping away the last traces of green fluid until it's bones were sparkling white.  Gaster took a second, clean towel and swaddled the creature in it, carefully threading the fabric around the various wires and tubes still connected to his creation.  When that was done he set 1-S on a nearby cot.  His eager assistant, practically buzzing with excitement over their success, set to work moving the necessary equipment over and locking guard rails in place as an added bit of precaution against potential accidents.  

The creature squirmed in its towel cocoon, wriggling out of the soft fabric just enough to raise its head which wobbled on its thin neck.  Its tiny muzzle pointed towards the scientist, twitching as if sniffing the air.  Eye socket blinked open, squinting at first but then large and round as they stared up at him.  Faint hints of light glittered in their dark depths.  1-S let out the tiniest squeak of a sound.

Gaster could hardly believe it.  Knowing the data was one thing, but seeing it, touching it, watching it move on its own, that was something else.  Against all odds, 1-S was alive.  He was so lost in his own amazement that he didn't even realize his assistant was talking until they grasped his hand and shook it.  

“Congratulations,” they said, breathless with a heady mixture of relief and excitement, “you finally did it.”

“I couldn't have done it without you,” he managed to reply, his own voice faintly choked with the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.  So many years of work, countless sleepless nights spent pouring over data from failure after failure, and now here it was.  1-S; the first successful life created from monster and human magic.  The culmination of the Determination Trials that had dominated his life since the completion of the CORE.  The first of seven living weapons that might one day strike down the barrier.  That lofty goal had never seemed closer.  But for now, 1-S was just a newborn.  Nothing but a helpless little puppy.  Gaster rested his free hand gently on the bundled form, feeling the faint rise and fall of the creature's chest as its first shallow breaths gradually settled into an even, calming rhythm.  He wasn't entirely sure what would become of this tiny thing he'd made, but for now, this was enough.   

When his assistant returned to work the next morning, they found the scientist fast asleep in a desk chair beside his creation's bed, his head resting on the edge of the cot and the sleeping puppy's muzzle pressed against his outstretched hand.

[fluffybunnybadass]

The three TGP sisters, plus Melody (Pokeverse) and Alt-Melody. Maybe Douchebagel, too.

the prompt

Full Name:Gender and Sexuality:Pronouns:Ethnicity/Species:Birthplace and Birthdate:Guilty Pleasures:Phobias:What They Would Be Famous For:What They Would Get Arrested For:OC You Ship Them With:OC Most Likely To Murder Them:Favorite Movie/Book Genre:Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche:Talents and/or Powers:Why Someone Might Love Them:Why Someone Might Hate Them:How They Change:Why You Love Them:

Sarai Chiaki

Full Name: Sarai Lin ChiakiGender and Sexuality: Female and Demiro Pansexual. Or maybe bi, but I’m honestly not sure for her in particular.Pronouns: She/herEthnicity/Species: Human/technically half-celestial, JapaneseBirthplace and Birthdate: [sputtering noises for birthplace], I forget if I kept her berdei the same as mine considering how quickly she ran from being a self-insert like right away from point of creation. :TGuilty Pleasures: [HURR HURR] reading fluffy stuff on the occasion, thinking about dat romancePhobias: being hurt/betrayed, some heights??? I forget. I don’t think her fears came up much when I was using her. :T;What They Would Be Famous For: Last I checked, it’s underground poprock star [currently a Paramore cover band]What They Would Get Arrested For: Trespassing, tbh.OC You Ship Them With: no one atm?? i mean i’d probably ship her with her bandmates if I had to pick a ship, since her and Shroud are kind of not a thing anymore [actual reason: don’t talk to that mun anymore]OC Most Likely To Murder Them: idk Raven probably [of mine, uh. QB I guess, she’s the only one to actually commit murder out of like everyone]Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Action/comedyLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: dramas/period dramasTalents and/or Powers: uhhh does being chronically depressed count uhhh she’s kinda good at her cover band gig. She’s the only one in her family that seems to be powerless, even though her parents are a celestial/angel and a powerful mage, she has 0 abilities. She secretly blames her older sisters for taking all of them, even if that isn’t the case anymore.Why Someone Might Love Them: She was the quirky LULZ RANDOM1!! teen, also is treated poorly by her narrative tbqh...Why Someone Might Hate Them: She’s chronically depressed as of late/has become hardened as a result, like even to the point of another OC known for being a bitch coming in and being like “dude. stop being a bitch. you’re a human it’s literally against your biological inclinations to isolate yourself and be vitriolic.”How They Change: already answered above, but they go from being the low-key depressed but presenting RANDUMS LULZ!!! teen and eventually become full-blown depression because wow she has nothing to offer the world and continues to lack reasons to believe opposite.Why You Love Them: I... made... her??? like I don’t even know. Also maybe because we vibe a lot on the whole “I’m nothing special, everyone else [in my family] has something special about them” aspects of bad brain thinking.

Hamano Chiaki

Full Name: Hamano [nee Chiaki]. I forget her husband’s last name lolwoops. [alternatively, wonder if the girls all just. keep their last name and it’s only a technicality. They’re all still referred to as the Chiaki sisters, after all]Gender and Sexuality: female and I don’t know!! hetero/guy-loving?Pronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: Human/half-celestial, JapaneseBirthplace and Birthdate: [whirrrling noises] I forget her birthday i’m sure it’s on her lj/gaia.... apparently it’s 9/30? huh. I always thought she was a summer muse. ok then.Guilty Pleasures: TRASHY ROMANCE MOVIES/NOVELS, like they’re so bad but she loves all the cheesy romance stuff. and some of the trashy stuff too. Phobias: Not being able to help someone/her sisters, losing her sisters.What They Would Be Famous For: Clothes/designing/teaching design!What They Would Get Arrested For: nothing she is too good. [maybe if mind-reading is illegal]OC You Ship Them With: @whenocsareooc / @curseyoupikachu ’s  Mikhail. ..Kurogawa? or was that someone else’s last name lol.OC Most Likely To Murder Them: who would want to murder her. qb doesn’t count, she’s always dtmFavorite Movie/Book Genre: Romance/”chick flicks”Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: hypermasculine action festsTalents and/or Powers: Psychic. Telekinesis, telepathy, spirit sensing, etc etc.Why Someone Might Love Them: She’s super sweet and her love of romance stuff is p. admirable.Why Someone Might Hate Them: she’s “too girly” and “cheats by mindreading”How They Change: She was a romance tryhard and flirty with all the boys, she eventually calms down when she finally meets Mikhail [she’s always been faithful to whomever she was dating, but she rarely found someone she was attracted to like. all the time. or something.]. She also goes from being the quiet middle sheep between her older and younger sister, and more actively mediates and takes part in their lives, instead of doing whatever she felt would create the least amount of strife. She goes from being a little timid about getting in the middle of things, to stepping in when she sees/senses the need for it. Why You Love Them:  SHE’S LIKE MY BLACK SHEEP I ACCIDENTALLY NEVER DO ANYTHING WITH HER, BUT I STILL LOVE HER BECAUSE EVEN IF SHE’S LIKE ALL MY GIRLY TROPES ROLLED INTO A CHARACTER, I LOVE HOW UNABASHEDLY HAPPY SHE IS ABOUT BEING A GIRL??? LIKE. YOU GO GIRL. #INSPIRATION.

Sakamoto Chiaki

Full Name: Sakamoto Chiaki-HertzmorderGender and Sexuality: Female, greysexual? //SHRUGSPronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: human/half-celestial, JapaneseBirthplace and Birthdate: we just don’t know but it’s probably in Japan, and I thought it was later in may but maybe I was thinking of ALL THE PEOPLE I KNOW WITH MARCH/MAY BDAYS anyways it’s 5/18 apparently Guilty Pleasures: don’t tell anyone but her husband but she rly likes the soft quiet moments where she actually gets to be vulnerable/not strong, SHE WILL NOT HESITATE TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE IF YOU FIND OUT., also i’m sure there’s something else but that was the only thing to come to mind lolPhobias: Losing, getting killed, being the reason for any harm/death to come to her sisters/familyWhat They Would Be Famous For: The Potion Seller who sells you their strongest potion. am i memeing this right. also for kicking your ass with magic without breaking a sweat What They Would Get Arrested For: setting people/places on fire.OC You Ship Them With: Viktor!! :DOC Most Likely To Murder Them: lol... I’m pretty sure my friend’s OC Raven still has dibs despite them pretty much being extended family/distant relate-mates [both tough, closed off women with happier little sisters and known for being powerful as well, getting worned down by a pair of dashingly handsome vampire brothers.], but it’s more like a case of “You don’t get to die until I say you do. Only *I* am allowed to take your life.” [also a bit of pun, seeing as Raven is her realm’s goddess of death. XD]Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Nonfiction books, mostly spell/information/learning booksLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: any movies but mostly romance and action. and terribly written/”unrealistic” fantasy movies [no one is able to watch their random fantasy series around her because “THAT’S NOT HOW MAGIC WORKS WHAT THE FUCK”]Talents and/or Powers: magical AF. like. literally. High MP pool to cast those big powerful spells down a few times and blast your ass into the next 5 dimensions. Also can read tarot despite it not being a very magical thing. Why Someone Might Love Them: She’s a strong woman who don’t need no man, sarcastic af, she takes no shit.Why Someone Might Hate Them: OP af, closed off/distant even to her own siblings; kinda fucks up raising her kids/connecting with her daughter because of this.How They Change: She learns to open up more and become less imposing/threatening to her own children, especially when it shows much strain in her relationship with her own daughter. While the gap can never truly become completely filled, they have worked together on making a bridge, and as a result, she’s opened up to helping people more, whereas before it was a sort of “obligation” to the greater good. She was also mostly concerned with kicking her dad’s ass for his manipulation of his children and neglect, but while she’s nowhere near saying that she has familial love (or any kind of love for that matter) for her father, she no longer hates and despises him/just barely tolerates him.* Why You Love Them: see “reasons why someone might love them”

*bonus fact: he tries to give the Chiaki-Hertzmorder family branch gifts of goodwill, such as incredibly expensive pottery and vases and shit, and Sakamoto just lets her kids use them as target practice..... LOL. someone broke a vase? As long as it was from your grandfather it’s all good.

Melody (Pokeverse)

Full Name: Melody Ann Anson [nee Hikari]Gender and Sexuality: female, demiro (gr)ace. I think.Pronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: Human, Kanto nativeBirthplace and Birthdate: Saffron City, 11/30/90Guilty Pleasures: buhhhhhhhhh [whirrling noise] going on adventures now that she’s a responsible adulting mom. how do u go on an adventure with two toddlers and a husband that’s a Champion and y’all are pseudo-celebs/recognizeable that is hard ok.Phobias: death, somehow doing something unforgivable, losing everything.What They Would Be Famous For: being the most accomplished trainer ever woops. [okay like. being a Champion and being married to an elite four member slash Champion? and winning a few cups/tournaments here and there? like how much MORE famous/footnote in history can you get]What They Would Get Arrested For: buhbuhbuh breaking and entering in order to free some pokemon that were being illegally kept/treated improperly lolOC You Ship Them With: no one :T [i feel like there ALMOST was one at some point. but I don’t think they were within this realm/history/limitation]OC Most Likely To Murder Them: no one within realm.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: adventure/fantasy books, action/comedies moviesLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: poorly done Kiss of LifeTalents and/or Powers: she’s a really strong/awesome trainer? and she could have been a really Masterful Coordinator in her late teens/early twenties/current age if she had kept interest in them. [Unfortunately, becoming a Pokemon Master > Pokemon Coordinator]. Why Someone Might Love Them: idk she’s just p. neatWhy Someone Might Hate Them: [insert people screaming MARY SUE here despite that getting worked on]How They Change: She starts out as this kind of. Openly willful kid, with a very expressive way about what was right and well (so I guess.. that’s like. 8th grade syndrome or whatever?), but she eventually matures, and in her early twenties she’s just this. Much more calm/reserved/wise-seeming adult who seems to have their life together, though in reality she’s still just trying to figure it out, especially when the itch to adventure isn’t something you can’t just up and do anymore when you’ve got a husband, a home, children, essentially “Settled”. Why You Love Them: she my bae/first gal  

Alt-Melody

Full Name: [redacted]Gender and Sexuality: female-presenting [maybe agender] and i’m not sure if she’s just lesbian or pan.Pronouns: she/her/they/themEthnicity/Species: humanBirthplace and Birthdate: [redacted]Guilty Pleasures: watching her girlfriend/wife?? idk tbh it’s very hard when I never really got into their character much.Phobias: becoming weak, not being able to defend/protect her gf.What They Would Be Famous For: hacking i guess.What They Would Get Arrested For: hacking, lol. and illegal time/realm travelOC You Ship Them With: alt!kiraOC Most Likely To Murder Them: QB, maybe a handful of friend’s OCs.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: tech/instruciton manuals, information booksLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: literally any of them.Talents and/or Powers: I... don’t remember terribly well? I’m not sure if she also has time/realm travel abilities or if she had a device for it. She is more warrior-trained than her alt/original.Why Someone Might Love Them: idk tough quiet person made of stone who loves her frilly gf and that dynamic between the two?Why Someone Might Hate Them: she’s p. plain for an alt.How They Change: idk she marries her gf //THROWS HANDS UP IN THE AIRWhy You Love Them: i don’t have the same affection for her like I did a lot of the other characters, but she did slap some sense into her alt [literally], so bonus points for that. *thumbs up*

Douchebagel

Full Name: idk but he’s referred to in-universe as Mafia Purge and in the past as an Alpha Purge.Gender and Sexuality: he i guess, aropan? i forget. either aropan or aroace.Pronouns: he/him/it/shitballEthnicity/Species: futuristic human thing being now made of timespace ether???Birthplace and Birthdate: one of the many alternate sc5 realms/timelines that was all mafia themed, and he was one of the few to be successful/killed his timeline’s UlalaGuilty Pleasures: everything he does is a guilty pleasure.Phobias: uh. i forget if spiders was a universal alt/purge phobia or not.What They Would Be Famous For: he is literally famous within that rpverse as being the Fallen, the ex-Alpha, for being a piece of shit, and when he and QB meet in timeline, for actually being one of the few people to give QB a run for her money.What They Would Get Arrested For: [LAUGH TRACK]OC You Ship Them With: crackships alpha and qb. separately. tho man now i wonder how the fuck a poly would work with them that would be interesting/hilarious AF.OC Most Likely To Murder Them: QB, Alpha, any of the other alt Purges... they all also HAVE killed him he’s just. beyond normal lifeline/timeline cycles when he originally ascended to Alpha status.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Crime lol. Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Where the crimelords don’t win like where’s the realism in that.Talents and/or Powers: where do i begin? Spacetime manipulation for one, manipulation of people for another, being insanely uber powerful that only other beings who have ascended to a statehood of Alpha can even come close to harming him, making even QB hesitate. I forget what else but man he’s. he’s... someone you don’t wanna mess with, like actual demigod level here.Why Someone Might Love Them: he literally is scum the only thing he has going for him is being a source of drama and being someone QB would hatefully run from/avoid conflict with.Why Someone Might Hate Them: he is a piece of shit and tortures all his alts without remorse and is essentially the one who ruined alpha’s life, PLEASE GIVE ALPHA HIS HAPPINESS AND CHEERFUL NATURE BACK KTHXHow They Change: he gets more powerful, merges with a demon, comes back as an uber demon. is still unsuccessful.Why You Love Them: LOVE HATE MAN LOVE HATE CAN YOU SEE WHY DO I REALLY NEED TO SPELL IT OUT.

[erikagraphy-blog]

the family pocketbook

My uncle An describes it as the family pocketbook. “You list everyone’s name,” he explains, “no one from the house gets left out.” He tells me that, in Saigon, everyone had one. I listen while I imagine all the marks left by generations of family members, every one of their distinct pen strokes a remnant of character and identity. It seems as if this pocketbook will fill in all the gaps of memory involving my family’s past in Vietnam, a subject seldom brought up by any of my relatives. But there is a time in one’s life where there is desire for the knotted roots of ancestry to be untangled and demystified—where one yearns for the curious stories of ancestors’ childhoods that have remained vacant and untold. With my uncle’s thoughts, words, and feelings at my disposure, that time for me was now.

A restless desire for truth prompts me to anticipate something further than a refugee story from the OC Register or a discussion of why it was pointless for America to have intervened in the Vietnam War. My uncle’s story would go beyond what any American needs to know—and any of my predisposed expectations of what that might be. America’s confusion about the Vietnam War was also my confusion, simply in a more intimate way.

I become more and more anxious to explore my family’s household in Vietnam: to understand its every creak; to unveil its fragile secrets; to rebuild its image onto a foundation of truth. In 1975, the family pocketbook, according to my uncle, became the new household necessity— but my uncle’s roof, as he would tell me, was now under the Northern Vietnam communist regime.

The very first mark of the new regime, now stored in my uncle’s memory, is a man with a round face and a green hat strapped around his chin. Starting in April of 1975, when my uncle was an eight-year-old boy, military personnel from the North were assigned to each block of Saigon: My uncle’s father was taken away to be relocated in one of the first re-education camps, which my uncle tells me should really be called hard labor camps. More readily, my uncle explains, “They know every single item that’s in your house, and either they say you have an hour to move out or they let you stay but take everything away. Just like that.”  He prompts me to imagine the violent ransacking by men in uniform, now emptying his sacred household, filled with our family’s history and belongings—and even though my family was allowed to stay in their house, the house was no longer theirs.

“Robbery,” he says, now laughing with a strange hilarity. His laughter makes me uneasy, but I am now forcing myself to swallow his story whole.

Eight years after the first ransacking, my uncle was now sixteen in his high school classroom; his teacher began calling him up to the front of the class, again and again, to recite the previous days’ lesson; she never demanded this from any other student except for him. He grew increasingly aware of his teacher’s targeted coldness in response to his presence in the classroom—an unusual indifference that resembled feelings of hatred.

He recalls the times where his “old buddies” would give him hand signals to show him the material, as he would always forget: “She harassed me, so bad, to the point where all my classmates knew about it.” Decidedly, while my uncle would stand in front of the classroom, his teacher would reprimand him for being an ally with his old best friend, who was hated for his association with the United States. “It’s funny how you can be discriminated against in your own country,” my uncle expresses with a satirical smile. He is categorizing his experience with two words: prejudice and discrimination, whose heavy meanings contrast his grinning face. What he had felt in the classroom made something known to him— there had been a definitive line drawn between those loyal to the new communist government, and those loyal to the old government. He was no longer a part of his country.

He recalls his name now, along with this five brothers and sisters, written in ink in soldier’s writing in a small book. My uncle can no longer escape his identity as a Southerner, and is troubled by this irreversible fact which maintained him as the enemy. I realize that the new government’s hold on the city of Saigon lay in its power to besiege the village from within, where every face, name, and identity was known—it was not about a unified Vietnam, but Northern power over Southern villagers. This book, and this list of names, was the family pocketbook. What my uncle had described to me was still true; our family’s legacy was kept in his household—but the memory was in the wrong hands, instead in a new and abusive household. This documentation suddenly became eerie, and dismissed any fantasies that a curious college girl had about remembering history.

After waiting fifteen years for a U.S. sponsorship to process, my uncle and his family had grown weary and accepting of their impossible escape. However, when the United States created a program in 1990 called the “Orderly Departure Program,” my uncle and our family now had their single opportunity.

Big-eyed and filled with amusement now, my uncle bursts into laughter and is amused by the idea of being naïve about their first destination-- a prison in Thailand. “I didn’t even know. I was happy. I ate a lot, too. The water in the shower was so nice, so I took one every few minutes. That’s all I can remember.” As I laugh with him, he gloats how his experience of discrimination was never continued here, and radiates with a vivacious gratefulness for living in America. My uncle’s innocent recount of gratefulness for the simple things, like food or water, makes me think of him now with a two story house, a family, and a job in a company in Irvine. I realize that his story has brought me to a full circle: His story was the American Dream, the tale I had been so incessant on resisting.

Remembering the family pocketbook, I realize, too, that I never got a list of my ancestors’ names.

But maybe it wasn’t about the ancestors, or the United States and what they did, or fulfilling my own needs of curiosity: It was about the life that my uncle knew. I had continually placed my uncle’s laughter into doubtful question, and dismissed it for the way it repelled my own expectations of romantic family tales—but his laughter was the voice of his new identity.

It didn’t matter that my uncle gave me a form of the American Dream—it really wasn’t the exact tale, anyway: The real struggle of fitting in was in his homeland, not in America. Starting in 1975, my uncle was already alienated from Vietnam and instead, was subject to its oppression; America had been his first taste of identity in fifteen years.

As I speak with my uncle during the last minutes of our lunch, I see his difficult past, now overcome with an air of gratitude and relief; I see his humor as the response to the remnants of our family’s history; and I know that the American Dream has many of its variations— for this was his American Dream.

I think again of family identities and their characters being fulfilled in my dreamy mind— looking at my uncle now, I scribble his name on the first page of my white college-ruled notebook, making him first on the list of my very own family pocketbook.