#like it's onr thing for him not to be up there for you and lose your sanity every time you remember he exists like i do

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Lee Chan

[hopelessdazai]

Could I request virgin Atsushi getting head for the first time please hehe :3 thank you in advance (it be head-canons or however you want to write it)

okay!! I hope this meets your expectations :)

Atsushis first time being blown

contents ; nsfw, oral (m!recieving), zai doesn't know dick anatomy names,

oh that man is so sensitive. as soon as you havw your mouth wrapped around him he's holding back so many whines because it's so new to him and its already so lovely.

if you'd never done it before, he'd never ask. he thinks it's dirty at first, having something he pees from in your mouth. but god does he warm up to it when you console him it's okay.

hes trying so hard not to fuck your throat, it just feels so amazing and he'd never known such a thing before that his instincts are just telling him to almost choke you out with it.

he plays with your hair during. if he can't grip it and push you down to hit your uvula, then he'll take it patiently and distract himself by doing that.

hes so so loud. he's whimpering so badly and moans are coming out of him like you'd never heard, but you're literally giving him a new kink on the spot.

hes always making sure you can breathe, especially if you take the initiative to try and deepthroat him. as much as you'd probably love to suffocate there, when he thinks it's been too long he'll gently tug you back up to remind you to breathe again.

part of him wants to just lay back and enjoy the show like any other guy, but it feels so good he can't help but almost lurch over, watching you suck him off is just so lovely to him.

if you tell him to be rough? ooh, you might lose your ability to eat for a while. your throat is gonna be sore but at least your tiger boyfriend is purring and satisfied.

hes too shy to directly ask you the next day for it again, he keeps trying to bring it up but he's never fully managing. so just try to take the poor baby's hints.

Scenario ;

you swirl your tongue just around the head, tracing up the slit and along the cap. atsushi lets out the loveliest whimper, and you can only giggle as you push him into your mouth, taking him almost to the base and trying to ignore the need to gag.

"o-oh- [Name]- b-be- ahn~ be careful-"

he manages to get out, you gently massage onr of his thighs as you start to bob your head up and down, the slurping sounds were erotic, but the noises your boyfriend was making was plain porn ridden.

"f-fuck- k-keep going, ple-please..~ i-it feels s- nhg~ s-so good.."

gonna run out of purple banners at this rate 😭😭 - zai

[breathlessmorro]

Can I request a skybound Destinyshipping? Like Kai is the onr trying to save Morro

YOU ARE A GENIUS ANON HOW HAVE I NEVER THOUGHT OF THIS??? I'm doing two versions of this, one where their story is background, and one where they are totally at the center of the season.

Destinyshipping Skybound Edition (background story)

Nadakhan knows Morro is responsible for bringing the Cursed Realm to NinjaGo. While Nya destroyed the realm, he blames Morro equally for its destruction, and by extension the destruction of his home. So when he captures Jay, and Morro makes an attempt to free him, Nadakhan does not intend to show mercy.

Nadakhan tortures both Morro and Jay - and feel free to interpret it however you wish - but with Morro? He's forcing him to keep the skies clear to keep the Zeppelins afloat. Morro is the only ninja who never makes a single wish, because he knows they won't work in his favor. However, Nadakhan likes to tempt him with the green ninja. Being human again. Beyond that, he promises to give Morro one more thing; Kai

Nadakhan cannot grant a wish for love, but a wish for lust is different. Even if he's in the sword, he can make Kai crazy for Morro. Leaning towards the idea that Kai doesn't like Morro yet, Morro is greatly tempted by the idea that Kai wouldn't hate him anymore, but pure lust? Does he really want that?... Well, the more he thinks about it, the more tempting it is. A slip of the tongue leaves him wishing to be with Kai, and he ends up in the sword.

Eventually, Morro ends up in the sword. When he and Kai are brought out by Jay, he doesn't know how to react. Nadakhan got him in one wish, and that wish was Kai. How is he supposed to explain that? Kai's made his indifference totally clear and honestly, it's deserved. He loses focus in the fight, if only because he has no idea how he feels anymore.

When the reversal happens courtesy of Jay's wish, Morro's memories may be erased but those feelings remain. He looks at Kai in a new light, and he hates to admit it, but he likes it. While he has no clue where the idea of liking him came from, he knows it's quickly becoming a problem.

Destinyshipping Skybound Edition (main story)

So straight up, Morro is the one Nadakhan first targets. The reason he's alone? Stomping off after the ninja annoy him - specifically Kai. The two of them butt heads more often than not, and Nadakhan offers to fix that. He can't grant Morro love, but he can't make Kai see him in a different light. Accidentally, Morro wishes that Kai would appreciate him for who he was. And his wish is his to keep. Kai comes to find him, worried and insistent they stay together. Morro realizes he messed up.

Kai is a lot more worried about Morro than before. Morro is annoyed by it at first, but eventually starts to realize why the team likes him. Why people like Kai. He's caring, he's sensitive, he remembers the things you tell him. Morro's one-sided wish quickly becomes a problem as he starts to feel guilty. Guilty because Kai doesn't actually feel this way for him, and Morro is starting to wish that he did.

But of course, he cannot make the same wish twice, Nadakhan reminds him when they're alone again. Morro wants to scream, because how dare he? He never meant to make a wish in the first place, and he never meant to make Kai something he wasn't. He inadvertantly wishes that Nadakhan would leave him alone, and the team finds him. And Morro tells them the truth. The team gets angry with him, especially Kai. The island essentially plays out the same, with Morro getting captured instead of Jay.

Nadakhan is furious. If Morro was responsible for taking Djinjago from him, then he will be responsible for returning it. He makes plans to marry him instead of Nya, and because he already has Morro in his grasp, they can act on that much sooner. Morro's escape attempts include possessing Nadakhan - and failing miserably - jumping off the ship only to realize Vengestone works on ghosts, and even considering jumping into a puddle of water. None of it works.

When the team comes to rescue him, they're already planning to shoot Nadakhan with the Tiger Widow Venom. Except because of Morro's first wish, Kai ends up jumping in too early to protect him, and he gets hit as well. Because Nadakhan is losing his power, Kai snaps out of the wish, and Morro apologizes profusely. Because of him, Kai got hurt, and he never wanted that to happen. He's grown to care about him, after seeing his kinder side, and he regrets that it was a wish that did that. Kai tells him he doesn't want him to blame himself anymore, that in another time, maybe he would have started to care on his own, because even through his wish, when he was giving Morro a chance, he had started to genuinely develop feelings for him. Morro wishes that they had gotten the chance to fall for each other without Nadakhan ever escaping that teapot, and his wish is his to keep. The reversal happens, and he and Kai remember everything. They're the ones who kiss at the billboard, much to Lloyd's upset and everyone else's confusion. Nadakhan never escapes.

[mae-gi-writes]

DRIVER'S LICENSE || LEE HYUNJAE

Driving lessons with your best friend seems pretty tame. Except, they're not.

Genre: bestfriends to lovers! Au, part-time uber driver hyunjae, young adult! Au, mentions of sexual harrassment.

Words: A lot.

A/N: I KNOW ITS BEEN SO LONG BUT I SWEAR I AM STILL WRITING. i just have no time to be constant so i apologize for my sporadic updates :( enjoy this one! It's a cute one!

—————

"You can cry if you want."

You hope the glare you throw Hyunjae over the rim of your glasses is enough to shut him up. But like anything else, Hyunjae never does know how to shut up about stuff. Any stuff, for that matter.

He babbles on, unknown to the murderous intent forming at the back of your head, "I mean, you could have done all you could but driving is hard. You're not a loser for failing and you're definitely not a loser for crying about it."

"I swear I will throw this tomato at your face if you don't stop talking," you warn, hand already reaching for the tomato beside your chopping board. You're in the middle of cooking up a simple lentil and tomato stew, not bothered with your usual meat and vegetables combo that work supposed wonders on your diet and lifestyle (whatever the fuck that means).

You're usually not this carefree when it comes to food. You always have your meals planned for the week, the weekend, the snacks, everything in between. You've grown up this way, counting nutrients and macros and micro calories until it comes as natural as breathing does.

But you're a mess right now. You're a mess and you don't give a flying pig's fuck whether you're eating all the right nutrients for the day. Not today. Nope.

It's just... you do know that driving isn't everything. It's not. There's wars happening, there are people losing their lives, there are countries struggling to keep their finances afloat and families who are counting every penny they're making just to make it through another day. And when you put things into perspective, you can't help but think of how privileged you are to be even standing here, in a flat of your own with food you buy with your own money. Your family is safe, your family is healthy. Honestly, what more do you need?

And yet.

And yet.

That driving test had been so important to you. You'd already put aside some money to buy this second-hand toyota vitz that you've had your eyes on for over six months, you want -- no, crave -- this desire to drive. To be free.

And the worst part -- you could've done so much better than this. Than whatever had happened on the road this morning.

"What mistakes did you make? You're allowed up to three mistakes until you fail right?" Hyunjae asks as he lifts himself up from the couch, where he's been stationed for the past hour, "do you need help by the way?"

"No I don't," your scowl deepens despite knowing Hyunjae and the driving test are not related. Not onr bit, "I crossed the yellow box at the intersection. And I turned a little too aggressively apparently. And then there was stupid stuff too, like switching lanes. I was too close to the white line as I waited."

"Bullshit."

"See?! It is bullshit! I mean, the errors are so ambiguous!" Your hands shoot up in exasperation, "I don't get it! And some people pass on the first try."

Hyunjae can't help but snort, "like me."

"You don't have to rub that in my face."

You're too busy sliding in your tomatoes into the pot to notice Hyunjae's figure moving over to stand next to you, until your elbow bumps into his stomach.

"Ouch," he grimaces.

"What do you expect? You're in my way," you answer back with a roll of your eyes. You stir the pot, the aroma lifting up in the air and making you sigh in bliss. Hyunjae does the same. He's always loved your stews.

"I can help you out."

You don't look at him as you ask, "with what?"

"With the driving."

This time, you look up at him, browa furrowed in confusion, "you? Helping me with my driving? You barely even have time for yourself."

"I've cleared up my schedule for uber so I'm free on Wednesdays and Fridays. And the weekend."

"I thought you needed money," you turn to fetch two bowls from your cabinet, only to see them in Hyunjae's hands, ready to be served.

"I do, do you wanna pay me?"

You punch him lightly in the arm, grabbing one bowl at a time to serve a decent helping and of course, adding extra chicken pieces to the said young man's bowl.

"Are you serious?" You can't help but ask because in all honesty, Hyunjae ia a good driver, "I can definitely pay you...if that's not too much trouble for you."

"It'll be more fun to hear you complain while driving, that's for sure."

You show him the middle finger in response, which makes him laugh before following you to the dining table cramped with two chairs.

"So is that a yes?" Hyunjae asks with a mischievous gleam that makes him look like a little kid.

You throw him a pointed look, "I'm going to ask you again: you're sure about this?"

"Hundred percent."

"Do I get a discount?"

"No."

"Why?" You can't help but whine out, leaning over the table to give him the best puppy eyes you can muster up, "I can pay you back in free meals."

A spark lights up Hyunjae's eyes. He grins, cocking his head to the side, "now that, is a good deal."

---

"Watch out for the sidewalk--No! Don't--Don't turn!"

It's your first lesson with Hyunjae and it has been a week since the start of your small arrangement. It's Friday afternoon and you'd skipped your business management class in favour of driving around the neighbourhood with Hyunjae. Him, on the other hand, had cleared his schedule of any uber activities. And for that you're grateful.

However, it seems that your best friend has a temperament. And you're not quite sure whether that works at your advantage or not.

"Jesus Y/n," Hyunjae's breathing hard by the time you swerve back into your respected lane, chest heaving up and down and if you watch closely enough, you're certain you can spot the sweat dripping down his face, "no wonder you didn't pass your driving test."

"Thanks Hyun, that's exactly what I wanna hear right now," you retort.

"What do you want me to say? That you're an excellent driver when you're a danger hazard?!"

"Well no--but a little support would've been nice!"

He snorts at that, arms crossing over his chest, "you don't need support. You need someone to actually show you how to drive," a pause as you hit the brakes at the red light before you. That gives him a little moment to breathe. You see him turn towards you at the corner of your eye, "why didn't you continue with that driving school you used to go to?"

Instantly, your mood turns sour.

You don't answer. The light turns green and with a little more force than necessary, you swivel to the right, following the traffic crawling up one of the main streets.

"Hellooo," Hyunjae, however, doesn't pick up on the sudden change in mood, "you could at least not ignore the person trying to help you out here."

"I didn't have time."

You do know that your voice is coming out colder than expected. You hope Hyunjae is too oblivious to care.

"In any case -- oh, go. The car's moving," he directs you forward upon seeing the traffic ease up, "slowly, make sure to check out the upcoming red light. They dock marks when it turns yellow."

"That's such bull."

"Uhuh. Go right. Keep your vehicle steady," his hand rests on yours, gently turning the wheel and navigating you into the right position. You notice how big his hand is in comparison to yours.

You're turning onto another side road when you aak, "Has your hand always been this big?"

"Pfft. Honey, my hands have always been big," he wriggles his brows, "if you know what I mean."

You shove him, "dick."

You try not to let yourself think about what happened in driving school back then. The memory still haunts you even to this day, despite you brushing it off and hoping to carry this secret to your grave. There are many things you regret in life. One of them is continuing on with it despite of what was happening. How stupid--pathetic--an idiot.

Hyunjae, of course, doesn't know anything.

You meet him a few days later for another lesson in the heart of the city and you're waiting where driving school students usually do, when your eyes suddenly spot a familiar green vehicle in the distance.

You freeze.

It's him.

You blink. A shiver runs down your spine. Fear.

A hand on your thigh. You, unmoving, terror spreading like venom.

A voice in your ear. Disgusting.

The car turns and a gasp leaves you upon spotting his face. The world suddenly comes to a halt, blood freezing and air suddenlt getting sucked out of your chest.

It would have been impossible to avoid him forever. But you hadn't expected to see him again this soon.

You feel trapped. You can't breathe. Your legs feel like cement, stuck to the ground.

Your voice. You can't speak, you can't--

"Y/N."

You jump. Swivel around to see Hyunjae waiting for you with a confused furrow to his brow. He's looking pretty good, with a simple white shirt, checkered shirt thrown over the top, and dark jeans and sneakers to match.

"I've been calling your name for ages, you asleep or wha--" his words are cut off when you stride towards him, grab his arm to pull him away. Away from him. Away from all the mwntal pictures flashing before your eyes.

"Y/N?" He's calling after you, worry now lining his voice, "what-- what's wrong?"

"I--nothing I just--where's your car?"

"Y/N--Hold on. Wait," he grabs your shoulders, turning you around with a firm grip that's impossible to escape and though you avoid his eyes, drop your gaze to the ground, you know from the way he's tightened his hold that it hasn't escaped his notice.

He waits though. Until your door is closed, until you're already pulling out of the parking lot without a backwarda glance. Until you're driving down the road at full speed as if you're on the run for your life.

You don't know how much time has elapsed until Hyunjae calls your name. Once. Twice.

"Y/N."

"What?"

"Can you pull over to the side?" He points towards a free spot where another car is pulling out. You diligently slide in, and Hyunjae grabs onto the wheel for assistance. He makes sure you're well settled into your space before turning to you in a way that makes you squirm in place.

"Care to tell me what that was about?" His tone is serious, causing you to look away and swallow hard.

Of course he deserves explanations. It's just that... you don't know how to tell him.

"And don't tell me it's nothing," he cuts off your mental scramble with a finality to his tone, "you can't hide that from me Y/N. Who do you take me for?"

Crap.

"There's nothing to say," you lie. But it's useless, because Hyunjae has seen the fear stretching across your face, has noticed the terror glazing your eyes over.

His hand grasps your wrist, a familiar action he does whenever he tries calming you down, "tell me, Y/N."

You can't keep it in any longer.

You break.

You tell him everything. About how it had started with comments on your appearance at first, how pretty you looked today, how beautiful the clothes fitted on your body. You'd thought it weird but not weird enough to stop. So a polite thank you was your only response. Apparently, that had only escalated from there. His hand, venturing under the wheel to touch your knee, then slide up your thigh. And you, driving, terrified that doing something about it would be overreacting. Was it overreacting? You weren't sure. Of anything. And you were ashamed.

So ashamed.

The more you speak, the more tense Hyunjae seems to become. His jaw clenches and he fists his hand so hard in his lap that his knuckles turned white. He doesn't look at you, instead keeps his gaze on the vehicle before him and finally, when you're done and drying your eyes with the edge of your sweater while avoiding his at all costs, Hyunjae's hand slowly slips up to your shoulder and pulls you in.

He hugs you to his chest, not minding that your bodies were separated by a joystick. He tucks your head into the crook of his neck and it was only upon noticing the trail of tears on his shirt that you realize you're crying.

"I'm sorry," you attempt to pull away but Hyunjae halts you, arms locked into an iron cage of comfort that leaves you no choice but to melt even further into him.

When he speaks next, his voice is filled with silent, seething rage.

"How long has this been going on for?"

It scares you. And yet, the concern, the security that pools around you in layers of warmth in the form of Hyunjae's figure. He makes you feel safe. Heard. And most of all, not judged.

You shake your head. Time had blurred the moment this started happening. As if a recurring nightmare that would go on and on without end.

"Did he do anything else, Y/N?"

You don't answer, hiding your face into Hyunjae's neck.

"Y/N. I need to know. Did he do anything else?"

Maybe it's the way Hyunjae speaks that make you shiver. But you answer in a hoarse murmur:

"He--tried. But--I... I uhm, I--"

Hyunjae hugs you even tighter in response, though you can feel the physical tension running through his veins. He's burning, ready to explode and knowing Hyunjae, he's bound to get into a reckless fight just because of you.

"I'll kill him." He grovels out.

His words make your heart jump. You tug onto his shirt in response, "don't," you murmur, pulling back to look up at him, "don't do anything stupid."

He doesn't respond, but you feel his jaw clench. Reaching up to cup his cheek and turning his face to yours, you continue, "it's not worth it. And it's already done."

"He hurt you."

"Well, technically--"

"He hurt you, Y/N." Hyunjae's eyes darken menacingly, "I don't--I can't--" taking in a breath, he exhales shakily as though trying to regain a sense of control, "I can't let that slide."

"You can't beat him up for it. There's no proof. And you can't complain either--"

Anger flares through his nostrils, "what about the other girls he did that to? Are you just going to let it slide?"

"It's not worth it, not for you. If anything, I'm the one that should do something about it, " you try catching his gaze with your eyes after a moment of deliberately ignoring them, he does. And the anguish, the amount of emotion running, swirling through them is enough to knock the air out of your chest in one single breath.

You don't know how long you stare up at Hyunjae, him doing the same. You don't notice that his other arm has fallen to your waist, gently caressing the bit of skin underneath your shirt. Nor do you notice the way his heart speeds up as if he's just run a marathon in five minutes.

"Will you?"

"Hm?" you blink back to focus. Since when has Hyunjae been so close to you? Absentmindedly, you hear a car honk in the distance to remind you that you're still in the parking lot, and this is definitely still a public space.

"Will you do something about it?"

"I--" suddenly, it feels too hard to breathe. Hyunjae probably notices your inner turmoil, for he shushes you, hand smoothing down your back and pressing his head atop yours.

"I'm sorry I raised my voice at you," comes his murmur.

You shake your head, "that's nothing to apologize for."

"I still think you should go and report him to the driving school company he works for, at least."

Biting down so hard on your lip that you taste blood, you allow your eyes to fall to Hyunjae's collarbones and notice, for the first time, that he's got a scatter of moles across his neck. Cute.

"I will," you mumble in hopes that he'll be convinced. He isn't.

He grips your shoulders, turns you to him and says, "I know it's hard and I don't want to push you to do something you don't want to. But for the goodness of everyone else's and for the safety of the other students that are taking his lessons, you should report him."

You lower your head to his shoulder, "...I will."

How you will do such a thing, you're not quite sure.

But one thing you do know is that you haven't felt more safe anywhere else but in Hyunjae's arms and you wish this, this feeling can last forever.

As if listening in to your thoughts, Hyunjae snuggles even closer to you, dares a small kiss to be pressed upon your forehead.

"What's that for?" Your words echo against his nape.

He shifts against you without answering, though you hear his heart rate pick up through his chest.

"What?"

"You just..." your voice trails off at the last two words, "kissed me."

"No I didn't."

"Hm. Could've fooled me."

----

Nothing else was said on the matter of the forehead kiss. You did, however, pluck up your courage with two hands and, with Hyunjae's help, deposited a formal comppaint to the police station. Thankfully, both officers are kind and gentle with you, listening in attentively and assuring you that they will be looking into the matter as soon as possible.

"Since when has this been happening?" One of them asked while the other has his pen ready in hand. Outside, you can hear the bustling of police officers mixed in with landlines ringing in caocphony. It's no wonder the police are always running around the clock.

Is this a mistake? Just a waste of time?

"Hey," Hyunjae's voice brings you back to reality, one of his hands coming to a rest upon your own before he squeezes it softly.

Your eyes flutter up to meet his, and his tender smile makes your ribs contract.

"You okay?" He asks.

You croak out, "yeah."

You've never seen auch an attentive side to him before so it does surprise you, the way he coaxes words out of you as you continue babbling on about what your driving instructor had done, the way he gently guides you down the corridor, away from the policemen, away from the thought of what you'd just confessed in your own words.

He pushes open the door so that you can step outside and you take a shaky inhale, not noticing the way your best looks at you as if you've just opened up a whole entire universe to his eyes. A universe at which you're the center.

"Thank you," you can't meet his eyes. Not after everything that had just transpired.

"You don't have to thank me, Y/N."

"I do. It--that--I--" you stutter over your words as emotion catches in your throat, "I never would've been able to do that without you."

A few beats of silence pass, in which he gazes down at you, and you back up at him. Something stirs in the air, as new as a baby bird shaking its wings, as new as a butterfly breaking out of its cocoon for the first time.

His hand reaches for yours, pulls you closer until you have no choice but to look up at him, and the depth in his eyes makes your heart jump up to your throat.

"Proud of you," he murmurs.

You can't help but smile, "shut up."

"I really am," he pushes a strand of hair off your face. You feel the heat of a blush creep up your face. What? This is Hyunjae, the guy who'd make fun of you because you'd always sleep with your mouth open!

"W-We should probably head back." You stammer and proceed to side-step him. He lets you, allows the distance to grow once more between your bodies as you walk up to the said car. Nothing else is said during the drive back home and, despite the heavy realization that maybe you have a teeny tiny crush on your best friend, you try not to give that away when you say goodbye with a small sidehug.

"I'll see you around," you'te already gathering your things, scrambling to get out and away from him as soon as possible.

You don't even wait for him to say bye.

----

You could've imagined it.

The forehead kiss.

His hand holding yours.

The way he looks at you.

The more you try to push it out of your mind, the more Hyunjae seems to come haunt you.

You continue your driving lessons once per week, which does not help matters in the least. It's as if you brought your best friend back and yet, he'd do something like put his hand on the back of your seat, or place his hand upon yours to steer you in the right lane. More often than not, Hyunjae would lean over to direct you and you'd get a whiff of his deodorant. And oh my, had he always smelled this good?

"Earth to Y/N."

"What?" Your head whips up only to catch Hyunjae's eye as he strides to you. His hair is parted sideways this morning and he can almost pass as a model with those tight-ass jeans, black v-neck and metal chain hanging just above his collarbone.

The thing is, you've known Hyunjae all your life. You know that he knows how good he looks. And he'd played with those cards without fault today apparently.

" it's the D-Day," he grins wickedly, "how do you feel?"

"Like I'm about to throw up."

He takes a seat beside you, "you drive well. You just have to be careful of your turns and that you don't run over any red lights."

"But it's so hard! And you know how unlucky I am when it comes to that!"

"You'll be fine," he holds your gaze, "I promise."

You were not.

It's only fifteen minutes later that you step out of the police car, tears stinging the back of your eyes as you make your way back to the police station as shame crawls all over your tummy. The police woman recites off all your mistakes but you're barely listening, the rush in your ears so loud that you only nod in response to all her complaints and by the time you do make it out of the police office, you're disoriented, lost. Unsure of what to do.

You find Hyunjae or rather, he finds you in the middle of the parking lot, glassy-eyed and flushed to your toes.

"I'm such a loser," is the first thing you say to him, almost laughing at yourself. Except this situation is not funny at all and you soon realize that you’ll have to do this again, and again, and again, until you somehow miraculously get this stupid piece of paper that doesn’t even mean much in the real world. That fact alone is frustrating in itself and you swear you almost break down right then and there, if not for Hyunjae’s firm grasp on your shoulder, propelling you out of your thoughts.

“You did nothing wrong,” he looks into your eyes, searches your gaze until he’s sure you’re finally looking at him and not through him, “and we’ll keep trying until you get it. There’s no shame in failing a driving test Y/N. You know that right?”

“For you probably,” you mumble.

He pulls you into a hug then, as if that might solve all the problems that seem to burst out of your life. Though it does calm you down, the way his chest presses against yours, the way his warmth engulfs your entirety, like you can drown yourself in him if you really want to.

You briefly wonder whether he’s aware of the effect he has on you, but decide against saying anything. You’ve said enough for today.

So you only hold on to him even tighter if that’s possible before breathing in deep. Hyunjae’s scent fills your nose and you’d be a liar to say that it doesn’t ease your worries, because it does.

You’re not sure how you feel about that.

The more you try to push away thoughts of your best friend being what people called "boyfriend material", the more his presence haunts you. It's impossible to go five minutes without thinking of the way his body feels when he leans over you, or the way his hand covers yours, or the way butterflies erupt in your chest when he looks at you for a little too long.

To the point where it annoys you, grates at your nerves. So annoying.

It seems though, that fate isn't on your side, when you bump into him on your way home from work.

"Hello stranger," his face eases out into that mischievous grin that makes your cheeks warm. You look away, as if burnt, "you've been avoiding me."

"I've been busy," you retort, "and I have other friends."

"But I'm your favourite, right?" He wriggles his brows as he follows you to your said bus stop. It's the middle of the week, around five in the evening, and the place is void from people.

That doesn't help. That leaves you alone with him. You can't have that.

"What's going on with your driving? You haven't asked to meet up after your test," Hyunjae asks.

"Ugh I don't even want to think about it," you grumble.

"You don't want to pay me anymore?"

"Stop being so dramatic, Hyunjae. You know that's a lie."

"So you're avoiding me then?"

"What makes you think that?" You scoff, looking down at the scuff of your shoes, at the end of your road. Anything to avoid Hyunjae if you can help it.

"Well you're not looking at me, for one."

You look up, frowning, "that's not--"

Hyunjae stepping forward to trap you against the wall of the bus stop has you yelping in shock. Dipping his head towards yours with a smirk that causes you to squirm in place, his arm presses against the wall to trap you in, heat against heat. Tempting.

Your head is buzzing. You feel dizzy. Light-headed.

Suddenly, it's hard to breathe.

“What are you—“ the words catch in the back of your throat upon seeing his face up close, so close to yours. You turn your head away, only for his fingers to grasp your chin, turn you back to face him with again, that mischievous glint in his eye, almost as if he’s a five year old boy ready to tease you senseless about your unexplainable crush on him—

You do not have a crush on him. As if on cue, you take a sharp breath.

Hyunjae notices, causing his smirk to grow wider, “so,” he says as casually as you would discuss today’s weather forecast, “my dear Y/N, I’d like to ask you something—“

“Please don’t.”

“—Because I think that you and I have—“

“Shut up Hyunjae—“

“—still have things to discuss and you—“

“I said shut up!”

“—do you like me like I do?”

You’re about ready to kick him at this point, to throttle him with bare hands. That is, until the weight of his words sink in.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost. Did you hear him correctly or is that another figment of your imagination? Because in a universe tucked away from this reality, you and Hyunjae are — well, if you’re being honest with yourself — fully immersed in each other’s being. It’s a pathetic secret that you’ve merely realized was true a few nights ago as you lay in bed, wide-eyed and staring up at the ceiling, and wondered why your heart beat so fast whenever Hyunjae’s name floats to mind.

Hyunjae prods the side of your hip, bringing you out of your sudden daze, “hello? Did you hear what I just said?”

“Wha—I—Did you—I—“ you can’t help but splutter out and making him chuckle deeply as his hand reaches up to curl a strand of hair behind your ear. You feel the heat ignite within your chest, so tight and bundled up in a knot of fire that makes you squirm in place and — why the heck was he so close?!

Amused brown eyes gaze down at your flushed face, though his grip on your chin is firm, stopping any attempts for you to hide your face somewhere, anywhere. His body, his warmth, you can feel it. The heat that buzzes between you, a tension that’s been pulled tight like an elastic band and ready to pop at any given moment.

“Hey,” Hyunjae murmurs.

You bite your lip. Your eyes flit to his, then back up to his.

Your heart lurches at the tenderness swimming in his orbs.

“Wh-What?” Your heart is pounding.

“Are we…” Hyunjae searches your gaze for a moment as the tension wraps around you in a tighter embrace, “…can I…kiss you?””

You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what you can say to such words, except that there’s no denying the jolt that your heart gives, practically jumping up your throat as it tightens. Which is why you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind:

“Are you flirting with me?”

Hyunjae blinks. You blink back. Then, horror seeps in.

Oh no.

Oh no no no—

But he bursts out laughing, “yes Y/N, I am — well, no — I’m trying to flirt with you. I have been trying for ages now.”

“Stop shitting me.”

“I swear it on my mother’s head that I am not shitting you,” Hyunjae’s hand releases your chin to raise it at his side and despite yourself, you miss the warmth of his fingertips, “ask the rest of the boys if you’re not convinced.”

“Is this why you wanted to give me driving lessons?”

“Well…” He grimaces, “partly, yes. But I also genuinely wanted you to pass your driving test.”

That earns him a hit on his arm, causing him to yelp, “ouch! What? What did I do? I helped you!” He whines out like a kicked puppy and though you’re aware that Hyunjae is a little too close and that it should’ve made you more uncomfortable that he’s in your personal space, you can’t help but laugh at his expression. He joins you soon enough, all grins and smiles. His free hand absentmindedly drops to your hip to draw comforting circles.

Your small moment is broken when a bus pulls up. Your bus. And though you should’ve been more surprised when the said young man decidedly hops on to accompany you home, there’s something that shifted in the air between you. The ball is in your court now, you know Hyunjae feels and there’s a warm glow that seems to spread across your heart and tingle at your fingertips the more time you spend pondering over the thought that yes, you want this. You want this as much as he does. Maybe more.

He goes back to being your best friend during the bus ride home and it isn’t until he walks you up to your apartment door that nervousness creeps up on you again.

“Thanks for dropping me off. You didn’t have to do that,” you tell him.

He answers with a raised brow, “I only accompanied you home because I’m waiting for an answer. A positive one, hopefully.”

“What answer?” You play dumb.

“Don’t make me repeat it again. My ego’s already gone under the bus. Do you really have to do that?”

You only grin up at him.

He sighs, “fine. Y/N, I like you and I’d like to know if you like me too because otherwise I don’t think we’ll be able to be best friends anymore. On top of that, I don’t think I can keep the promise of being your best man at your wedding—“

Your hand clamps upon his t-shirt and you tug him down, cutting off his speech as your lips press against his in a short, sweet kiss.

Hyunjae’s eyes are glazed over when you pull back, looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Wow.” He murmurs, and before you know it he’s wrapped his arms around you, pushed you back against your front door, before his lips lock upon yours.

Wow is an understatement.

His mouth, so gentle yet firm, opens up against yours. His arms firmly press you to his chest and your hands flatten against his t-shirt, instinctively curling into the material when he parts your mouth and kisses you till your head starts spinning. You never would’ve taken Hyunjae for a gentle kisser, but the way he handles you with care — cupping your face with one hand to tilt your head sideways — causes tingles of excitement to shoot down to your stomach down to your toes.

Every color of the rainbow imaginable bursts behind your lids the more you kiss like you’ll never kiss again for the rest of your life. Pressing you against the door, a gasp suddenly falls from your mouth upon feeling his chest against yours, and that urges his tongue to slip past your lips into your mouth. You moan softly, the slightest of sounds that rumble at the back of your throat, but Hyunjae’s satisfied growl is enough to send your stomach cartwheeling with fireworks. His hands pull you even more insistently, slipping past the material of your shirt to rest against your naked skin, leaving you gasping against him as your hands slip up to the back of his head to fist into those gorgeous locks of his.

Hyunjae grunts in pleasure, tongue tangling up with yours and one hand tracing random shapes along the small of your spine. One of his legs slip between your thighs, causing you to gasp at the sensation. His only response is to drop a hand to your thigh and before you realize what he’s doing, he’s pulled your leg up to hook it around his waist as another soft growl of satisfaction rumbles from the back of his throat.

You can't hold back the whimper escaping you as he traces patterns up your clothed thigh.

"Hyunjae," you gasp out when your lips disentangle so that his dot a line of kisses down to your jaw, "you--"

You never thought of your best friend, capable of doing such things.

You never thought of your best friend, and doing such things with him.

It causes heat to spring up your entire body. It feels all kinds of wrong and all kinds of right at the same time. But one thing for sure is that it feels good. Too good.

He grumbles out something that sounds like, "don't move," mouth echoing kisses along your neck. He brushes along a sensitive spot, causing you to let out a sharp breath and grasp onto his shirt like he's the last thing keeping you afloat.

Pulling back only for air, you're met with his brown eyes filled with such naked affection that makes your tummy twist inside out.

Your nose brushes against his tenderly. With affection.

And when he gives you a smile, it is one filled with a feeling so exhilarating that it knocks the air out of your chest.

He's so beautiful.

"I--" you're at loss for words. What to say when there's nothing that can match the way he makes you feel?

And when he speaks next, his alto has dipped to a murmur:

"I like you."

Your breath catches in your throat.

"I mean, I wouldn't be kissing you if I didn't," he chuckles nervously, pulling back and allowing his hold on your thigh to fall slack, "I couldn't help myself, sorry, maybe I should've asked--"

You tug him to you and kiss his next words away, and the young man moans, kissing back hungrily, even following your lips once you pull back.

"I would've punched you if I didn't like you," you whisper.

As if unconsciously, your hand reaches up to his cheek, thumb stroking over his cheekbone.

He shivers at your touch, leans into it before closing his eyes, "so...you think we can go out for a coffee sometime?"

You can't help the smile that breaks over your face, "if you let me drive us there."

[jeawrites]

Okay!! So 🥺🥺 techno trains with Tommy and teaches him how to fight because I'm a sucker for found family

"Technoooo, Techno, Techno--!"

"What is it Tommy?" Techno asked, looking behind him and towards the child. He was just about to head into the woods too...

A wood sword was proudly in his hand, a bit poorly touched on the blade itself, but otherwise it looked alright.

"Its Tuesday!" Tommy announced, "you said you'd take me with you to practice if I had a sword by now!" he beamed.

Techno fought back a smile and tried to hold his usual stoic expression. "I dunno Tommy, your still a little young, dont you think?"

"That better be a joke-"

Tehcno cut him off by ruffling his hair, walking by him to head back inside. "I gotta get my old sword," he said, "make things fair on ya."

Tommy beamed in victory, laughing happily as he gripped his sword lightly. It was exciting- to train with the Technoblade. His grin was impossible to wipe at that moment.

--

They had walked to Techno's clearing- a space in the woods he had discovered months ago. He made it into a makeshift training ground, which other that Phil and now Tommy, no onr knew about.

Training began shortly after, with Techno teaching Tommy the basics.

"Your stance is sloppy," he commented, nudging Tommy lightly and watching him stumble. "You need to be heavier, harder to move," he pushed his own foot back and bent his knees lightly, showing ak example. "Like this."

Tommy mimicked him, glancing over a few times and down at his own feet to make sure it was right.

"Now lift your heel up, so you're ready to move at all times," he moved as he spoke, talking through the steps. "And don't watch your feet, it'll set your balance off."

"Right," Tommy mumbled, looking up, and then back down immediately to make sure his footing was right.

Techno shoved him again and watched him fall right on over.

"It also makes it easier for someone to attack," Techno said, entertainment in his voice but he didn't keep a smile. Instead he offered a hand towards him. "Here. I'll help this time," he said.

Once Tommy was standing, Techno moved to stand in front of him. "Focus on me," he said, "follow the movements but keep your eyes on me."

Tommy nodded and did as told, keeping his eyes on Techno as he moved his stance, stepping forward with ease.

Techno grinned. "Good!"

Tommy grinned brightly.

"Now, again."

Tommy frowned.

--

After an hour and a short break, Techno began teaching Tommy how to use a sword.

"You need to feel it," Techno said, "note the weight and strength of your blade. If you're too strong with a swing you could very well break your sword."

Tommy nodded and looked at his sword before at Techno. "Don't you want to have a strong swing?"

"Yeah, but not too strong," he answered. "You need just enough power to make it deadly and for that you need to understand limits and you also need to develop skills." He gently slashed the air in front of him and Tommy.

"Phil told me once that in order to perfect the sword to a deadly weapon you beed to perfect an attack," he smiled.

Tommy beamed. "So then you'll teach me that?"

"No."

Tommy groaned. "What the hell?"

"You need to learn some stuff be yourself," Techno shrugged, "I'm not a teacher." He then smiled and got into a beginner stance, his sword in his hand as a threat. "I'll give you experience and beginner stuff though."

Tommy grinned again. "Finally! Yes!" He fell into position, his sword up and ready.

Theen they both moged forward and the fight began.

--

8 rounds and 8 loses for Tommy later they took another break.

Tommy rubbed his head befire he laid back in tge grass, his chest heaving as he breathed in deep. "Every-... Every Tuesday," he held his hand up with his pinky out, "promise you'll train me on Tuesdays."

Techno glanced at him, a smile in his eyes despite the fact they rolled. "Of course," he said, linking his pinky with Tommy's, "I'm sure Phil won't mind if I do."

Tommy grinned and closed his eyes as his hand fell to the ground with exhaust, a soft snore following.

Techno stared momentarily before he laughed, following Tommy's lead as he fell back onto tge ground, his eyes closing as he made impact.

Every Tuesday.

Techno was glad to have something to look forward to. Maybe they'll do hand to hand next week.

[karumashadowchicken]

Dabi x FemGeten

I was suggested the idea of this story by kannra21

If your reading this, I hope its how you wanted the story!

Dabi x FemGeten

Shigaraki stood infront of a group of villains, announcing groups for the next project. Most people were fine with their group, Twice and Toga worked together fine. Compress and spinner worked together well too, alonge with shigaraki and kurogiri. Dabi was rather annoyed when learning he was put in a group with Geten. Geten and Dabi look at Shigaraki with a dissiproving look, either Shigaraki diden't notice or diden't care. Once Shigaraki had finished talking, Dabi and geten had both told Shigaraki about there dissiproval. "So? I don't care about your dissagreement." Shigaraki continued, " I don't give a shit, get to work." Dabi gives Shigaraki a feed up look, causeing Shigaraki to continue talking. " Your powers can balance eachother out. getens quirk will stop you from over heating, and Dabi's quirk will keep you from freezing." Dabi and Geten start bickering about how they don't want to work with eachother. Shigaraki snarls, " I don't care what you WANT." Dabi takes a deep breath and calms himself. If he can deal with the leauge he can deal with some ice cube. Dabi thinks and agrees to work. As long as he is going to be able to meet and fight Endeavour in the war, he was going to keep going. Dabi was following Geten around, incase she needed help. Although she was a pretty good leader. Dabi and Geten were finishing something up when Dabi looks around. He notices that shes onr of the only women here. yet, she is one of the strongest, and she wears a hood over her face and goes by 'Ice Man'."So, whats will the name 'Ice Man'?", Dabi askes. Geten sighs, and pulls down her heavy hood. He had to admit she was quite beautiful, but he wasen't going to tell anyone that. Geten walks up to one of the members, giving them orders. One of the members had refenced to take orderss or even listen. "Listen Doll face, you should watch that mouth of yours.", one of the men even attacked her after she persisted. Dabi Quickly defended her, he diden't like her but he was discusted at the men ien front og him. Dabi then yelled ordrs at them with a snarl, he was quite pissed off now. They had started quirk training, which would be helpful if they were to end up fighting Shoto. Deika is placed in Okumikawa, which is around mautiple rivers, and since geten needs a water source they thought it would be nice to train there. Dabi and Geten ended up fighting against eachotherr for training, and dof course geten won. Geten in the process had soaked her entire jacket. "Here, ice Cube", Dabi lended her his jacket. "Can you stop calling me 'ice cube'?" Dabi just laughed of the queastion and they contined. Dabi and Geten were getting ready to return to the base with her. As he looked at her he notice how small she was. He was staring for a second, but moved his vison to the floor. He felt like he needed to protect her. Even though she was stronge and had just on eagaist him, he felt like she was small and needed protecting. When they returned geten took a Shower, walking out dressed. She was having a hard time brushing all her hair, and asked Dabi to help. He brushed her hair the same way he used to brush Fuyumi's hair. He was suprized in himself that he was here, brushing Getens silky, damp, white hair. He brushed his fingures threw her hair a few times. The more he brushed the more fluffy getens hair got. Geten and Dabi even ended up getting cold soba togtherr, and Dabi diden't hate it. maybe Ice Cube wasen't so bad. Geten talked about herself and the things she likes, dislikes, been threw. Dabi sighed talking about the leauge and vagley about his past. As their walking back to the hidout, Geten kisses him on the cheek and thanks him for the cold soba and time spent together. Dabi realized he was too deep in all this, he was emotionally atached to geten. He wanted to go into war without connections, without realations, without emotional attachments to people. He regrets it now, but it's too late. He's too afraid to lose her now, he doesn't want her fighting in the war. Now hes attached, now he's in too deep.

The End. I hope you liked the story!

[epraim1992]

Edward Weevil

When Edward Weevil was revealed as the last Shichibukai I was really disappointed. But their was the mystery of his parentage and Miss Bakkin’s was a former member of the Rocks Pirates. I did a deep dive into him to try to uncover some clues. I believe I have found things that might make him more important and interesting than I originally thought. First of all his name, the characters in Weevil can translate to weave i.e, weaver (l and r are the same) hinting at a Devil Fruit power related to weaving. I’ve read theories of Weevil being a zombie or Frankenstein like monster do to his scars, it looks like his head and arm were reattached. But it might be because of a Devil Fruit.

I think Weevil was mentioned way earlier in the manga than we believe. Like Kinemon’s symbol I think there is a hidden message in Weevil’s jolly roger. So like Yasuie I altered it and discover that you can make a six out of the mustache and skull. I think Weevil was Mr. 6 from Baroque Works.

But why Baroque Works? I think Bakkin was his partner Miss Mother’s Day. She uses Miss in her epithet and she is supposedly his mother. 

Now on to Weevil’s father, I don’t think he really is Whitebeard’s son but Shiki’s. They have the same lion mane hair which was the only thing visible and when they were first introduced. Weevil’s weak spot are his legs which I think connects to Shiki cutting off his own. 

Shiki has appeared more recently and even made a cameo in Wano, when Kurozumi Higurashi took his form. Shiki’s epithet is the “Golden Lion” just out curiosity I searched “Golden Weaver” and it turns out it is an Asian bird which fits with Shiki’s flying them and Weevil being shaped like a weeble an egg shaped toy.

Now to the biggest thing. I didn’t come up with this myself but I do buy the theory he is the Shichibukai who killed Zephyr’s subordinates and took his arm. Like I mentioned I think his name hints to weaving based Devil Fruit powers and the person it was joined during the time skip.

While the movie is obviously not canon I think Z is. In the film Z creates the Neo Marines I think instead in the manga he creates SWORD. The Neo Marines’ jolly roger has a sword running through the skull. Also Z’s wish was to create a hero and his name is based on a hero he played as a kid. There is the fictional hero Sora from Sora, Warrior of the Sea which looks the costume Z wore as a child and Sora is based on real marines.

There exist two big holes in my theories. One the Unluckies gave the Marines the portraits of the Baroque agents. And two it hasn’t been hinted that Weevil defeated Z a former admiral which would be an enormous thing not to bring up. I believe that Weevil suffered an accident/injuries and fell into the ocean causing memory loss. Big Mom lost her memory when she fell in the sea of Wano and Oden’s injuries after his trial to travel with Whitebeard reminded me of Weevil. I think because of his Devil Fruit he retained that form so now he is unrecognizable. Big Mom reverted to childhood persona O-Lin I think Weevil did the same. After losing his memory I think Miss Bakkin took advantage of the situation and fooled him into thinking she was his mother.

As monstrous as Weevil is I think he is a ticking time bomb for when he gets his memories and original self back. We know Shanks went to the Gorosei to warn them about a pirate. It would make sense if he was warning them onr og yhr Shichibukai since they work for them. It was very reminiscent of the warning he gave to Whitebeard about Blackbeard an ex-subordinate. 

The last time we saw Shanks he was attending a wedding at some ruined island. I think it’s the same island that the former Baroque members started the new Spiders Cafe. Shanks respected Whitebeard and gave him a proper funeral I think he would be interested in the pirate taking out Whitbeard’s former men. I think Shanks went to the Spiders Cafe and discovered Weevil’s true identity. 

I have a feeling that Weevil will get his memory back the same way Sabo did through a newspaper. When he is first introduced Bakkin is shown buying a newspaper. Maybe something in the recent edition will jogged his memory it was full of shocking news.

At the beginning of the series Shyarly made a prophecy that the human with the straw hat Straw Hat Luffy would destroy Fishman Island. Because the person is in silhouette I don’t think it really was Luffy. I think it might be Weevil it does fit his M.O. I think he was in Baroque Works because he was secretly after Poseidon. So once he gets his memory back I think he will be going after all the Ancient Weapons and Robin as well. 

[barnesbabee]

Omg the NERVE of that guy 😭 No man I've been with ever made me come but I have ONR story that kinda remind me of yours. I hooked up with a guy around my age and we met at a hotel. Dude was wearing a cock ring and had me riding him. One thing you should know about me is that I SUCK at riding. I never made anyone come like that. I have to stop ever 30 seconds because I'm exhausted. Yet that dude...he'd stop me every couple of seconds so that he wouldn't come. He literally asked to take a nap in the middle of it so he wouldn't come too soon. Worst was that he started rather wildly, tearing my stockings and groping me (I agreed to that beforehand) and kept promising wild stuff through text then...that 😭 - toes anon

Toes baby are we the same person??? I also suck at riding dick

I'm sorry baby but..... A nap??? Mid sex??? You should said yes and dipped while he snored 😭😭

Men make me so mad cause through text they're beasts like,,,, be humble, if you never had sex with someone don't go out making promises and acting big cause chances are you'll get the other person's expectations high as hell and then disappoint them ahdkahdks

Since we're telling sex stories and I find this hella fun

One time at a festival type thing I was with this dude

And we were fucking on the grass, which was already horrible because it had rained a bunch

So I was like all the way wet, my clothes were wet and full of dirt and then suddenly he loses the condom??? And 2 days later I start to feel uncomfortable and the condom was coming down??????

I was so pissed I texted him and I was like dude wtf

And my period was late that month so I started freaking out and I tolf him and he was like "well Im freaking out as well" and I'm like well maybe don't think too much of yourself and get the right fucking size?????

He's an ass. He's honestly one of the worst people I've ever met and I've done some bad choices but he was definitely the worst one. Cause after that he left me alone and went to his friends (who are also my friends) and said "he made a huge mistake"

Sure but it wasn't a huge mistake when he basically forced me to have sex with him on the new years..... I wasn't fully forced or anything but I had on this fancy tight dress for new years and we ran into each other and he was like hey come on let's go somewhere and I kept saying no and he was just a pain in the ass so I eventually said yes which I am forever embarrassed about

Yeah... As you can see I have a very sad sex life lol

[cosmicmadwoman]

Adam and Eve Chapter Three: Friends Keep Promises

Summary:Polly wants Cheryl to move in with the Coopers and Archie asks Jughead a favor.

Words Count: 2602

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

There was a tangible stillness in the trailer. Both Jughead and Betty laid naked on the couch, the itchy material making their skin burn and sweat. The two had just caught a glimpse of a hollow darkness inside them that seemed bleaker than the gray walls of FP’s trailer. Betty grabbed a puke colored orange blanket from the arm of the couch and wrapped it around her nakedness, plus her boyfriend’s Southside Serpent jacket, offering a spot for Jughead with her right arm outstretched. His knees were held up to his chest and he looked frightened. He glanced dryly at her invitation and shook his head.

“What we did was weird and scary,” Jughead spoke up. He opted not to look at Betty until she takes his chin in her hand and gently pulled him into a featherlight kiss.

“But wasn’t it thrilling?” Betty’s soft voice echoed with ashamed excitement.

Jughead felt his lips involuntarily curl into a shy smile, looking anywhere but his girlfriend’s eyes. She was right, there was nothing in this world that compared, in his short 16 years in the world anyway, than engaging in intimate danger with Betty; so fascinating and wrong. Maybe they weren’t meant to be right. Nothing that has happened since July 4th had been ‘right.’ That was how Riverdale was now. That was how Betty and Jughead were now.

Betty presented the space under her blanket for Jughead again. He gladly snuggled up against her this time. The pony-tailed blonde smirked coyly as she realized his signature beanie had been perched upon his head the whole time they had sex.

“I feel like even when I was so hopelessly and stupidly in love with Archie, I was always intrigued by you,” Betty mused as she leaned her sweaty head on Jughead’s bare chest. “The way you didn’t care what people about you while still caring so much about people. You’re so… human. When everything else in this dumb town is primped and polished and plastic you live and breathe and cry and laugh and scream. It’s almost enchanting.”

A pause settled over the room before Jughead said, “Wow. I guess I I don’t know what to say.”

“Just know that I love you,” Betty chirped with a peck on the cheek. “As much as I would love to stay here with you forever, I should get home. I’m surprised Mom hasn’t called already. Alice Cooper must have signed up for coffee hour again.”

Betty checked her phone and saw the screen display 12:31pm.

“It’s only 12:30? This has been the longest day of my life.”

“You’re telling me,” Jughead scuffed, but with an airy laugh.

Betty shed Jughead’s leather jacket to replace it with her own clothes. She had never been naked so often in her life. Before Veronica came to town, Kevin was the only person she felt comfortable changing in front of. She used to secretly wished Archie was peering at her through the slits in his window shade, but now that felt so juvenile. Jughead made her feel like a woman, a desirable woman, when she was so used to rejection from Archie and being treated like an infant by her mother. She felt the weight of her ponytail on her back and it suddenly felt out of place there, like an old man placing an unwanted hand on the back of her neck. She looked at the two guns on the couch, one hers and one his. It reminded her of those silly his and hers towels people get as wedding gifts. She had half the mind to bedazzle hers with pink jewels. She giggled at the juxtaposition in her head.

Jughead rose from his place on the stain spotted sofa and wrapped his naked body around her clothed onr. He left little kisses and licks on the side of her neck, causing the blonde to lose focus for a moment.

“You should probably check in with your foster parents,” Betty let out with unsteady breaths.

The Jones boy sighed  and moved from Betty’s neck. He had met them briefly, they were nice people and all, by they didn’t have much room for Jughead and they other children they fostered as well as their own biological son. The littler kids needed to be there, have guidance and protection, but he could take care of himself just fine. He had the trailer and whatever FP left. He would probably even have water and electricity paid for until the end of the month and with the money coming in from working with the Serpents, he could manage all by himself. The foster family was just a pony show for the state. The Carters, his foster family, had a zoo of people; they probably didn’t even notice he hadn’t been around. Betty was right though, he should still check in.

“I would like to meet them,” Betty added.

“Maybe,” Jughead said and kissed her rosy cheek. 

“I better,” Betty gave him a playful swat on the butt and opened the heavy metal door. She looked back for a second, absorbing the sight of her boyfriend standing stark naked with nothing but a cockeyed beanie on his head. She smiled warmly and went outside.

--------

Betty crept in the house to find her very pregnant sister caressing her bulging stomach. Betty was constantly aware of the town’s obsession with the new Blossom twins. They were special, certainly, ‘purely Blossom’ Penelope had called it, but Betty couldn’t help but think there was something else to the story of her nieces or nephews.

The younger blonde looked away from her sister. The way Polly had a blank smile stretched to either side of her face as she stroked her body irked her. Betty attempted to sneak past and up to her room to get on the homework she uncharacteristically neglected, but Polly stopped her with, “You’re lucky mom and dad had to rush to the Registrar. Big story on Archie’s dad, but I’m sure you’ve already heard  that.”

“I have,” Betty answered, motionless.

“Come sit, Sis,” Polly patted the seat next to her.

Betty sat carefully, her back stiff and arms held tightly to her side. Polly and her and reconnected once she rescued her from the Sisters of Quiet Mercy, but it seemed her limited time at Thornhill, even undercover, seemed to give her the creepy friendliness that the Blossoms inherited.

“Thornhill is in ashes,” she said blankly.

“What?” Betty jolted up and clenched her fists until she felt blood. She relaxed them instantly, regretting giving into the impulse to harm herself. The Cooper girls did not show emotions outwardly, they kept it inside. But Betty’s not a robot, her emotions boil and erupt. So instead of breaking her cool, she projects the pain onto herself. No one can live like that forever. That’s why she was so inspired when her mother threw a brick through the Registrar's window; a Cooper woman was allowed to feel again, just to be disappointed when she took her dad back in the end. Betty wiped her hands on her pants and left streaks of blood there. She hoped Polly didn’t notice.

“Cheryl called this morning from some fancy hotel in town. She wanted to purify the place she told me,” Polly explained. Betty noticed the tell-tale glint in her eyes, Polly was upset. “That was the last place Jason called home.”

Tears were falling from her eyes now. It was an ugly hysterical cry that left her not burying her face in her hands, but looking towards the ceiling as if she was begging Jason to come down from his pillowy cloud  and fix everything. Betty sat down next to her and held Polly’s quivering hands.

“That’s all it is. A house. The thing that made Thornhill Jason’s home was Jason,” Betty said softly to her fragile sister.

Polly nodded, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her lavender cardigan, trying to pull herself together.

“Maybe we should have Cheryl, Penelope and Grandma Rose live with us while they look for another place,” Polly offered.

Was Polly hallucinating? Was there a something a little special slipped into the wafer cookies during coffee hour at church? For one, the remaining Blossoms would not feel comfortable in an average colonial, let alone accept an invitation from the Coopers. Who, she guessed, were also Blossoms. What the hell was wrong with this town?

“Polly, that is very sweet, but completely out of the realm of possibility,” Betty said as gently as she was able.

“Maybe at least Cheryl can stay. I know Jason would want me to take care of her.”

“Where would we put her?”

“She can sleep in my room,” Polly proposed.

“Ask Mom and Dad I guess,” Betty gave up and started to go for her room.

“You won’t even see her. You’ll be off with Jughead anyway,” Polly said. It could have been just a friendly older sister teasing moment, but the heaviness in Polly’s voice told Betty it wasn’t. It was more of an accusation. Was Polly jealous? Did she want her to spend time at home?

“He is my boyfriend….”

“Sure,” was all Polly said before quickly ending the conversation by pulling out her cell phone.

Betty climbed the beige carpeted stairs to her room and felt the weight of the gun in her bag. She needed somewhere to hide it. Her mother still looked through her things, for her diary for example, so it had to be super hidden. All traditional hiding places were out of the question, like under the bed or in the sock drawer. There was one place Alice would never think of though. A place she thought was safe from debauchery. Betty hid the gun in her pile of stuffed animals hung from a corner hammock on the wall on the right side of her room. She patted the head of her old teddy bear, Mr. Cuddles, and told him to keep her secret safe.

-----

Jughead was sleeping and still naked on the couch when he heard a knock of the steel trailer door. He was startled awake and looked quickly to his gun, debating if he should wield it or hide it. She chose the later as she slipped the piece under the couch cushions with the echoing sound of the door still pounding.

“Yeah, one sec,” he grumbled to the guest on the other side. He imagined it was Hack Saw and was too tired to get into the Serpent business just yet. The beanie clad boy tugged on his jeans, sans underwear and pulled the door open, pleasantly surprised to see his redheaded friend. His eyes were cast down.

“Can I come in?”  When Archie looked up, his blue eyes were bloodshot.

“Of course, man,” Jughead moved to the side and let him in.

Archie went straight to the couch and plopped down. Jughead winced, knowing that if Archie had an inkling of what had just happened on it he would burn it to ugly 1970’s upholstery ash.

“So you’re a Serpent now,” Archie began.

“They said they’d look out for me, yeah,” Jughead answered.

“Are you doing work for them?” Archie asked, his thick eyebrows furrowed incredulously.

“I kinda have to. I’m just getting bar supplies,” the black haired boy shrugged. This felt like a questionnaire and he didn’t want any part of it. Jughead thought it was odd he wasn’t at the hospital with Fred, but maybe he was distracting himself by interrogating Jughead. He wasn’t heartless, he would do whatever Archie needed to feel better. And if that meant pummeling him in the chest like Cheryl did, then so be it. However, Archie pummeling his chest would be a lot more painful.

“Illgeally?”

“Well, yeah. I’m sorry Arch, is everything alright?” Jughead asked.

Archie bolted upright and took one large step toward Jughead, pinning him against the old island counter.

“No! Nothing is alright! My dad is dead! He died two hours ago!” Archie’s yelled with his fists and jaw clenched tightly.

A wave of everything crashed over both boys as the omission was out in the air, swirling around both of them inside the four walls of the trailer. Jughead was the first person Archie told. He was his oldest friend and Archie knew, despite his possible Benedict Arnold behavior, Jughead loved Fred too. The growing men turned into the little boys that used to play in the sandbox in the Andrews’ back yard, and sobbed in each other’s arms. There were tears of apology, heartbreak, understanding and fear for the unknown future. They settled down and sat on the couch together in silence.

“I came by because I need to ask you something,” Archie said, finally breaking the choking silence.

“Anything, Archie,” Jughead said with every ounce of serenity left  in his bitter body.

“Kill the man that killed my father,” Archie requested his face serious and unwavering.

Jughead was speechless. He was a Serpent now, yes, but he wasn’t a hitman. He had planned to use his connections with the Serpents to hopefully gather some intel on the shooting, but he hadn’t come up with a plan for what to do if he ever found out.

“Even if it’s a fell snake,” Archie added.

Jughead fell into investigative journalism in light of Jason’s murder and began to thrive on a thrill of uncovering things people wanted to stay buried. The mission was intriguing, but nonetheless, this was several steps beyond playing Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys with his girlfriend. This was murder. A righteous murder most likely, but still murder. He found himself wanting to consult Betty first. What a silly question to ask your girlfriend. Should I tell my best friend that yes, I will find and kill the man that killed your father? In a roundabout way he felt like Liam Neeson. A part of him was also annoyed that Archie would just assume that now he was a Serpent, he was a complete criminal. Another example of how Archie doesn’t see life in technicolor,but black and white.

“I’ll work to figure it out, of course, but killing someone? Could I even do that? Could you?” Jughead’s voice strained against his throat.

“I never could. I wish I could… but you’re the next best thing. He loved you like a son, too. One of us needs to do this. I saw that look in your eye when you punched Chuck,” Archie looked at him with abnormally clouded eyes.

Jughead felt uncomfortable with his assertion, “You think I could kill someone? You think I’m that psycho serial killer, Donnie Darko, Edward Scissorhands bullshit Reggie always calls me?”

“You would be surprised what anyone would do if they’re pushed far enough,” Archie said knowingly. Jughead wondered if he was talking from experience.

“I will find him. That, I promise, Archibald,” Jughead said, draping an awkward arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry I blew up at you earlier, Jug. I’m trying to understand,” Archie admitted.

Jughead just nodded. That was enough for him.Archie was trying.

“I need to get home to my mom,” Archie said, moving to the door.

“How is she?” Jughead asked.

“As good as she can be I guess.”

“Tell her I’m thinking of her.”

“Sure,” Archie said as he closed the front door.

Jughead hadn’t notice how puffy and tired his eyes were until he closed them, trying to envision himself holding a gun to a man’s head, much like how Clifford Blossom did to his son last summer, and actually pulling the trigger.

[mollyfamous]

[[TW: loss of child, loss of faith/innocence] You know, I was thinking about my more recently lost innocence, and I remembered that I used to try very hard to maintain a child-like faith, and I guess thanks to an extremely rare reaction/side-effect (does anyone know the difference?), it kinda stuck, but I was actually, genuinely, more innocent at 35 than I was at 25. Much moreso, in fact. And I miss it. I really do! But, I don’t know that I will ever be able to reach a level of faith high enough to enable me to get there again because it has been utterly shattered. It was broken the day I prayed for the life of a 13 year old boy, who I really, genuinely, had faith would get better; and then I watched, as they pronounced him dead a couple days later, and the organ harvesters came in while his mother was still standing there, and I watched as her heart poured out of her eyes as tears, and her mouth as heavy sobs. It didn’t even occur to the staff to guide her out before they came in to harvest his organs! I can’t even begin to explain how much of this experience was absolutely unacceptable. “He,”(tthough gender didn’t apply to God, I always defaulted to He or She to ease conversation.) had taken (pr at last failed to spare) that boy. The first person I ever asked specifically to heal. It had always been “if it be your will,” before then. I never actually ASKED for anything from “God,” before. And the first time I did, for selfless reasons, with love and faith in my heart and mind, I was denied. This alone would have shaken my faith,but maybe not broken it. But to further torrure her by not only allowing him to die, but to do it THAT way??? Isn’t taking him enough of a burden for his mother to bear? Did it have to be in the most painful way I could possibly imagine? I saw human vultures in white coats. I saw one of my dearest friends lose her child, and I saw a child die.Nothing abput this was acceptable! And I really didn’t feel right talking about it, because I didn’t want to take attention away from her suffering. And I didn’t know how to talk about it, though I did have a couple friends I was able to open up with, I don’t think I yet understood what I had lost, so I wasn’t able to articulate it, or maybe I just wasn’t ready to face it yet. But, it had been my faith that had kept my depression in check for over a decade. And when that faith broke, the depression came seeping back into my brain, little by little. Slowly enough that I didn’t notice, though honestly I was in so much physical pain at one point, I wonder if anyone would have noticed. Then there was the abuse at home. The daily rants and tirades that I had to endure that almost always had absolutely nothing to do with me, but I was still the onr being screamed at. The growing fear that he might hit me. I *meant* my vows, but surely I did not deserve to be stuck in a practically helpless body full of pain until I die. (And at that point, I had given up on recovering from 15 years of dealing with “fibromyalgia” and constant slight swelling and pain throughout my body, that would later turn out to be gluten intolerance.) I endured as much as I was able, but that broken faith asked me why a loving God would just keep piling shit on like that. And why would a God that cared about people let so many people suffer as horribly as my friend was suffering? That isn’t loving. It’s sadistic! And the depression seeped in faster, as I tried to rebuild my faith to keep it at bay, because I could not bear all of the things I’d seen and experienced in my life without belief in some higher good, some damned good reason to allow/cause such suffering. Eventually, I left my husband, after realizing I felt safer in a city park surrounded by strangers than I felt in my home. He quickly killed all faith I had left in him. But, still, I was starting to notice a difference when I could avoid gluten for long enough. I started dreaming again! I had hope! Maybe I would finally get better! Maybe the bleak future I envisioned for America and my children and grandchildren wouldn’t come to pass! Maybe I could have another chance at sharing love with someone! I saw nothing but possibilities and beauty. But no. As my body healed, more shit got piled on, then more, and then more until my very ability to believe ANYTHING was shattered. Every piece of shit that got piled onto my life stole a piece of innocence, and the depression took over.

I died inside, and just sort of existed for a few years. Now, I am trying to rebuild mental health without faith in a loving God. With a faith that says God cares about each of us about as much as we care about our individual blood cells. I know God is not omnibenevolent because I have more compassion than “God” does.