#like we were in sectionals for a big amount of time and i was with the low reeds and the guy leading us was a bassoon guy

[hella1975]

worked four sections today bc we were so understaffed. i had 20 tables. a normal section is about 5/6 tables. the way i didn't maul anyone will go down in the guiness book of world records as strongest silly guy alive

[vexwerewolf]

Should I read homestuck

tl;dr: no

actual answer: yes, but with some extremely important caveats.

Firstly, because Adobe shitcanned Flash, you can now no longer experience Homestuck in the form it was intended upon release... unless you download the Unofficial Homestuck Collection. This act of unbelievable, nay, saintly generosity by Homestuck's most dedicated fans allows you to experience Homestuck as it was intended - as close as is humanly possible.

"As close as is humanly possible" is the key phrase here. One indelible part of the original Homestuck experience was UPDATE! Homestuck would sometimes go weeks or even months (and later, years) between updates. I wasn't on Tumblr back in the day, but at the peak of Homestuck, even if you knew nothing else about it, you'd know when an update dropped because Tumblr's net traffic would increase something like three to fourfold. People would go apeshit bananas about whatever new revelations the Huss would drop on us.

You also need to realise that Homestuck is a product of its time and while its takes on sexuality and gender identity was pretty progressive (for its time), Huss did use the r-slur a bunch.

While we're on the subject of the author, Andrew Hussie (of whom my current understanding is that they have not changed name but go by they/them nowadays) is, in the most diplomatic possible terms, a very unique person. They are, at times, a visionary storyteller with genuinely fascinating ideas. At other times, they come off as kinda spiteful towards their readers.

Without meaning to dip into spoilers, some story beats seem (in my opinion) almost intentionally calculated to upset, irritate or mock certain fans. It never rises to the sheer vicious contempt that Steven Moffat had towards Sherlock's fanbase, but it does leave a bad taste in my mouth whenever I go back.

Additionally, and this is where a sort of birds-eye-view spoiler is unavoidable, the story suffers from the Game of Thrones pitfall of repeatedly increasing its own complexity by adding new plot threads without resolving existing ones, eventually leading to fatigue on the part of both the reader and the author. The arcs of a lot of characters just straight up get abandoned, while a couple of characters take an unnecessarily large amount of screen time.

There's one character in particular that the author openly states within the narrative (the author exists within the world of the story. It's... a whole thing) that they favour, and whose behaviour the story is warped to accommodate. You'll know exactly who I'm talking about almost the moment they show up.

Another reason I say that it's not really possible to read Homestuck as it was originally intended is because a lot of the shit that happens in it fits into the zeitgeist of the internet at the time any individual update was written. There's a whole section in the late middle third that is inextricably and very specifically tied to how it was like to use Tumblr in 2012.

Additionally, a lot of things have soured with time. There was the whole Hiveswap debacle (it was first announced in 2012. We got the first act in 2017. We got the second act in 2020. We do not even know if the third act will ever come out.). There were the legal threats. There were the Epilogues and Homestuck 2, which were... how do I put this? Not universally liked. There's been nearly a decade of discourse since Homestuck ended, and a lot of things haven't grown better with age.

All of that being said.

You should read it.

I cannot express to you just how big an impact Homestuck has had on internet culture. Even people who claim to hate Homestuck unconsciously use slang that it invented. Its unique ideas on storytelling, character design and narrative chronology have, in both subtle and unsubtle ways, changed the way millennials and Gen Z tell stories.

A lot of people were inspired to tell stories because of Homestuck - one example I always give to Lancer players is that Kill Six Billion Demons started as a comic on the MSPA forums (before it was homestuck.com, it was MS Paint Adventures), so Homestuck is in an indirect but demonstrable way responsible for the existence of Lancer. The sunglasses that Gideon Nav from the Locked Tomb wears have been explicitly stated by Tamsyn Muir to be Dave Strider's. Toby Fox made music for Homestuck, and worked on large parts of Undertale while living in Andrew Hussie's basement.

We also know someone in the Bluey creative team is a Homestuck, because...

There are subtle but direct references in Bojack Horseman, Hazbin Hotel, Steven Universe, Adventure Time - and those are just the ones that it's easy to prove! In a more general sense, I think there's a lot of cartoon series, movies, games, etc. that would either be very different or wouldn't exist if Homestuck hadn't happened.

It's certainly influenced my work.

I think, being very cautious to manage your expectations, that you should read Homestuck. At the very least, a lot of things people say on Tumblr will start to make, if not sense, a different kind of nonsense.

[keresnotceres]

Good, Good, Great

Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!

[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.

PART TWO

3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33

You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.

How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.

He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.

He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.

You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.

“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”

He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.

The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.

The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.

There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.

His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.

It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.

Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.

“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.

Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”

“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.

“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.

Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.

And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.

He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.

The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.

The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.

The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.

“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”

The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”

The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.

Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”

Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.

“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.

“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.

“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”

Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”

Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”

The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.

You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.

He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.

He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.

You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.

Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.

You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.

“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”

It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.

When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.

Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”

You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.

You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”

Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”

You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”

You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.

Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.

He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.

He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.

At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.

When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”

Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.

Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.

It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.

You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.

You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”

Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.

You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.

“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.

“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”

Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.

“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.

“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’

The look on your face screams ‘yes.’

Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”

Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.

“Don’t flirt with him.”

Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”

“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.

“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”

And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.

“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.

“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”

All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.

Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.

All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.

You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.

“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.

He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.

“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.

Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”

You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”

You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.

You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.

“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”

[seeingivy]

birthmark 

satoru gojo x f!reader 

satoru’s suddenly more appreciative of scars 

content warning: MANGA SPOILERS, canon divergence bc im not gege and they all deserve to be happy, reader described as pregnant, giving birth/c-section, hospitals, pain (kinda), big brother megumi + tsumiki, lil corny family, 

an: happy fathers day to our fav dad :DDD reader is described as having dark hair in comparison to satoru but tbh every hair color is dark compared to white unless you have white hair them im sorry

- 

“Hi baby.” 

“What do you want, Satoru?” 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” 

You take your eyes off from the screen to find Satoru lying across the couch, his head very close to your stomach. His blindfold is hanging around his neck, his shiny, blue eyes staring right at the bump. 

“He doesn’t have ears yet.” 

“You don’t know that. We have father-daughter telepathy. She can hear me.” 

“If anyone was going to have telepathy with him, because he is most definitely a boy, it’s going to be me.” 

He rolls his eyes, lying his head against your stomach as he continues staring down - his eyes focused. You reach down, pressing your hand in his hair as you start carding through his white locks. 

“What were you like as a baby, Toru?” 

“Horrible. Came out super late, cried all the time, total sweet tooth.” 

“I asked about you as a baby. Not now.” 

He rolls his eyes, sitting up to ruffle your hair. You shrug him off before leaning your head against his shoulder, his hand placed directly on your stomach, which he does almost every time he’s near you. You can hear his stupid voice in your head. She has to know I’m here too, not just you mama. 

“Shut up. Stop bad mouthing me in front of our child. That’s not a healthy parenting model.” 

“You screamed my head off for throwing out your precious kikufuku in front of Megumi last week. Healthy parenting model, my ass.” 

“Well some things are just unforgivable, sweetheart. And he’s a big boy now.” 

He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head, before pressing his cheek against your hair. “What was my baby like as a baby?” 

“I came out super early. I think they had to stay in the hospital for a few days because I was too weak. But after that, I think it was okay.” 

He leans over, pressing himself harder into your frame as he squeezes. You place your hands in his hair again, running through as you wait for him to talk. He’s thinking - too hard. 

You understood that a baby, a real one - not grown up and super self sufficient like Tsumiki and Megumi were - was anxiety inducing. But ever since you had told him, Satoru was stressed out, more than usual. Shoulders always tensed up, freaking out over painting the room or assembling a crib, or picking a godfather. 

“Love?” 

“Yes, Satoru?” 

“Do you think…the baby will be scared of me?” 

“Because you’re the strongest? Of course, not. Megumi and Tsumiki always thought it was so cool when they were little, smacking their tiny little hands against it while laughing.” 

“No, no. Not because of that.” 

You push your palms against his cheeks, pulling his face out of the crook of your neck. He looks into your eyes, the look shy. His eyes waver down to his arms, littered in scars, before looking back up. And now you get it. He’s talking about his scars. 

They’ve faded over the years, from back when Megumi was still possessed by Sukuna. You remember when they were angry, red and fresh, when he came home, and nearly made your heart drop out of your chest. 

And when it was well and over, you had kissed them hundreds and hundreds of times over until Satoru knew, with full confidence, that you love him. And Megumi had apologized, millions of times before he understood that none of it was his fault. You love Satoru. Scars and all. And you love Megumi. Possession and all. 

“Satoru. You know that we all-” 

He shrugs you off, the look exasperated. 

“I know you guys love me. But I’m talking about the baby. There’s just so many of them and they’ve faded a good amount but-” 

You lean over and press your lips to his, kissing him softly before you let go. You can feel him deflate at the sensation, giving you the smallest of smiles when you pull apart. 

“You guys have father-daughter telepathy. She could never be scared of you.” 

You see the smile spread across his face as he rolls his eyes at you, shaking you at the shoulders. 

“So you agree? She’s a girl.” 

“No. He is most definitely a boy. But I’ll let you have it for tonight.” 

“You’re so generous.” 

“I know Satoru, it’s one of the best things about me.” 

You feel him cup his hands around your face as he presses a light kiss to your nose. 

“Yes. It is.” 

“I was being sarcastic.” 

“I know that, love. But I wasn’t.” 

- 

Unlike Satoru and much more like you, your baby is born early. What you thought was a routine ultrasound turned into an emergency c-section and your little baby coming a little earlier than you had planned. 

That was hours ago. Satoru has been watching you, your chest heaving up and down as you sleep, since they moved to this room. Your daughter, because Satoru was right, was down the hall in the NICU, in a tiny little plastic incubator. With Megumi and Tsumiki. 

This day had already been too hard for Satoru. And it wasn’t even over yet. Watching you get pushed onto a table, your baby coming out and not crying, finding out it was a girl but you weren’t even conscious enough for him to stick it to you, having to pick who to spend his time with. 

He picked you. Because Megumi promised that he’d watch her there, make sure she wasn’t alone. He knows how much it meant to the two of you to get to meet her together so he’ll wait. I mean, that is his little sister and all, he doesn’t mind watching her. After Satoru agreed, he couldn’t help but smile at Megumi, literally sprinting down the hall to meet her where Tsumiki was waiting. 

He watches you shuffle in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open. He nearly knocks the table as he stands up, placing his hands on your arms as you wake up. 

“Satoru.”

“Love, oh my god, I was waiting for you. To wake up, I mean. Are-are you okay? Does anything hurt? Do you want me to get anything?” 

He watches your eyes pinch shut as you raise your hand, clamping it right across his mouth. Your little raspy voice breaks out and he can feel the tears streaming down his eyes at the sound of it. 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” 

He can’t help but laugh, the tears still streaming down. God, he loves you. Bedridden and still giving him fucking attitude. You’re okay and sassing him around and he loves you. 

He watches the smile spread across your face as you keep your hand there, now wiping his tears off. You look around the room, the crib still neatly made. 

“Wait, where’s-” 

“Down the hall. Megumi’s there with her.” 

“Her? It’s a girl?” 

You can feel the pride bustling in your chest, the tears now filling in your eyes. She’s a girl. Your tiny little baby that you were carrying for the past months was a girl. You can buy her little dresses and teach Satoru how to braid her hair and-

“Told you so.” 

“Shut the fuck up. I know you’re not sticking it to me while I’m literally in a hospital bed. Need I remind you, that you did this to me.” 

“How did I do this to you?” 

“You knocked me up!” 

You both laugh as Satoru helps you up into the wheelchair, pushing you both down the hallway to where she was. 

“You see her yet? Is she cute?”

“No, it’s only been a few hours. I wanted to see her together.” 

He swings the door open, pushing you to the front into the room. You can see Megumi seated right next to the little box, his hand inside with Tsumiki watching from the other side, her eyes focused on the crib. 

But you don’t take notice of your baby first. What you notice first is the shirts Megumi and Tsumiki are wearing, matching pink that say “big brother” and “big sister.” 

“Satoru. Don’t tell me you guilt tripped them into wearing the shirts.” 

They both run over at the sound of your voice, pressing you into a hug. You reach forward, resting both of your hands in their hair as they help you up, holding you steady in the air and running their eyes over you to make sure you’re okay. 

Satoru had bought the five of you matching shirts to wear when the baby was going to be discharged. And they were corny as fuck. With dad, mom, big sister, big brother, and baby written on them. Megumi said he was going to burn his in a fire. You and Tsumiki hid yours somewhere in the basement, pretending you lost them. Satoru found them in five minutes. But here they are, wearing them. 

“You don’t have to wear those. I’m sure he pulled the whole, my wife is dying, my baby is sick but-” 

“I didn’t ask them to wear those. At least not today.” 

You look over to find Satoru smirking, worst than he ever as before, at Megumi especially, as he starts ruffling his hair, cooing over how cute he was. 

“Just, shut up about it. I thought it would make your depressed ass laugh.” 

“Toru, quit bugging him.” 

You press a kiss to Megumi’s cheek before Satoru crushes him in a hug. He’s always been your sweet boy. 

You and Satoru slowly shuffle over to the little box, sticking your hands in to hold hers. Her eyes are pinched shut, a tuft of dark hair at the top of her head. You can feel the tears rising in your eyes, quickly glancing over to see Satoru crying too. Megumi and Tsumiki are on the other side, directly across, sweet smiles pressed on their faces.   

“Dark hair, Toru.” 

“Just like her mom.” 

You both can’t help but stare at her, rustling around in the little crib. But what catches your eye is the dark patch of red on her left eye, instinctively reaching over to touch it. 

“Megumi. What happened?” 

“We think it might be a scar or something. The doctors said she’s okay though, it doesn’t hurt her or anything.” 

You immediately crane her head over to Satoru, whose switched spots with you and is now softly pressing his fingers over the skin. You lean over, whispering in his ear as you both watch her. 

“Think she looks scary with her scar, Satoru?” 

“What the hell are you talking about? She’s perfect.” 

“You guys match. A scar for her and a scar for you.” 

He looks over and you watch the realization spread across his face as he understands what you’re getting at. He gives you a sweet look before pressing one the softest kisses to the top of your hair. He’s crying even harder now, his entire frame shaking. Fucking sap. 

She curls her hands into Satoru’s, squeezing his pinkie finger. 

“What the hell, Toru? She didn’t do that for me.” 

“It’s father-daughter telepathy, love. You wouldn’t get it.” 

[ashasdiary]

Hairstylist

Pairing: Geto Suguru x fem!reader Synopsis: Geto shows you his skills when it comes to hair. CW: pet names, established relationship, fluff WC: 673 A/N: I want him to do my hair 🥺

Geto had always been great at styling hair. He’d had his own long locks to style since being a teen, then he used Gojo as his model for a while. 

Then, with the entry of Nanako and Mimiko into his life, he’d become more skilled, and more careful too. Those two little girls were his world, and he found that one of his favourite things to do was style their hair for them. 

They’d take turns, sitting down between his legs as he braids their hair lovingly, twisting it this way and that, and making cute hairstyles for them with the most adorable accessories.

Even when they grew up more, it was mutually enjoyable for them to style his hair and him to style theirs. 

When you came into his life, you hadn’t expected that side to him. 

He was a big physical touch guy (his top love languages were quality time and physical touch) but you didn’t think that there would be more to him toying with your hair one evening while you were lying together on the couch. 

You thought he’d just been twirling your strands around his long, slender fingers, because he was so gentle, but little did you know, he had made a neat little braid out of it. 

When it fell into your face, your brows furrowed a little, “Wh…Sugu, did you do this?” You turn your head to him while he’s spooning you. 

“Mmhmm,” he nods. 

“When?!” You laugh a little, surprised. 

“Just now,” he chuckles. 

“I didn’t even feel it… you were so gentle,” you awe. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he shrugs with a small smile, and you gaze up at him intently. 

“Do tell,” you turn your body fully and relax as you watch him and wait for him to explain. 

He smiles a little, bashful, “Well, first it was my own hair. Then Gojo’s. Then Nanako and Mimiko. The girls really loved going to school with different hairstyles, so I learned.”

“That’s so sweet…and impressive. Will you do my hair as well?” You ask.

“Of course…I was going to ask you one of these days, actually, but I’d love to,” he presses a chaste peck to your lips, completely content with you. 

So that’s how you ended up in the bathroom together, with him gently combing your hair. 

“Do you want me to sit down?” You ask as you gaze at him through the mirror. 

“No, it’s alright. You’re a shortcake. We’ll be fine standing,” he answers and throws you a wink. You let out a playful scoff at the nickname he’d chosen for you.  

“Meanie,” you pout. He laughs a little as he sections your hair with clips. 

“You love it,” he grins at you. 

“Maybe,” you mumble. You both laugh together and then fall quiet as he works so expertly. Not once do you feel any discomfort, of him pulling or tugging on your hair. You’re in awe of how skilled he is. 

He pulls out some hairspray, mousse, gel and various combs from the cabinet and uses appropriate amounts of product. He’d put your hair in a beautiful messy bun, sectioned so there’s a slicked back side part that frames your face a little.  Once he’s done, you smile to yourself and bite your lip.

“There— wait, just one more thing,” he tugs free a strand, mirroring his own, and grins. “Done.”

You turn and look at it in the mirror and you let out a soft gasp. “Sugu! This is so pretty…! We have to go out now. I refuse to go to bed without enjoying my hair like this.”

He lets out a small chuckle from your enthusiasm to enjoy your hair. He circles his arms from behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as you look at each other in the mirror. 

“It looks good on you, shortcake," he smiles.

“I love it. Thank you, sugarboo,” you kiss his cheek once, twice, then he turns his head to capture your lips with his. 

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

Divider by cafekitsune

[slutforalastor]

"Ah, he's got this problem." Your friend Mimzy waved her hand. "You know how animal demons get. I'd take care of him myself but I wouldn't want to spoil our working relationship. We go way back, you know."

Slowly, you nodded. "You'd consider it a personal favour?" That was how things worked in Hell. A consideration for a consideration. And dealing with the Radio Demon in rut was hardly a small favour, even if it did play well to your preferences.

"To me, yeah." Mimzy smiled broadly. "Just take him to a private room in the back and see that he's calmed down before it's time for the show. If he's cranky he's gonna start eating people, ugh." She fluttered her hand again. "Don't worry, though, he's an absolute sweetheart."

Seeing the Radio Demon turn sideways to get through the door, eyes glowing red and his huge rack of antlers festooned with cables, you were starting to doubt Mimzy's definition of sweetheart.

THIS POST CONTAINS MATERIAL NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS. 18+

Content: Rutting, antlerplay, role reversal, give and take, banter, mutual masturbation, light femdom, biting, marking, a lot of flowery language for smut

You'd heard the stories and rumors, saw the occasional report on VNN, but you'd yet to encounter the Radio Demon for yourself. Even pushed to the edge where something resembling humanity plunges into dark depths of depravity, he's maintaining a grip on decorum, his wavering smile barely forming the syllables when he introduces himself as Alastor, his voice impossibly mimicking the sound of a mono recording from a bygone time. Mimzy is going to owe you big-time.

"I'm doing well, sir. I have to say, you look like you've had an awful day."

"It is... most inconvenient," he stammers, shaking his head like a beached animal trying to throw off water. Just as Mimzy had requested, you'd waited for him in the private room, and you're still laying in the bed, your body draped across the two rows of firm pillows, down to your lingerie for his ease. With wobbling steps, he begins to close the distance, loosening his bowtie.

"I really must insist that this matter... stay between us." The restraint he's displaying seems as though it's taking every bit of faculties he can spare; his breathing, his sight, his ability to stand, all seem to be sustained with the minimum amount of effort possible. Even glazed in electric red, you can tell his eyes are focused intently on you.

"Who would believe me, anyhow?"

"... Too true, no one would dream of calling me a liar," he agrees, pulling his waistcoat off and leaving it in a heap on the bureau. His undershirt is the same deep red, intersecting black stripes making a cross across the center of his chest. He rolls his sleeves up, then sets his cane on top of his waistcoat. "Any... sensitivities I should know about?"

"I like being kissed on the neck," you venture, playing it safe for opening bids.

He laughs wickedly, the glow casting light further than it could reach before, his antlers growing another section in size, branching out that much closer to the ceiling. "Oh, Mimzy didn't tell me you'd be so pure. Surely you have something more entertaining than that?"

"You think I do this sort of thing often enough to have an itemized list?"

He tuts at your attempt at banter, removing his shoes and leaving them in the gap under the bed. "I don't have time for experimentation, my dear. I'm asking if you think you can handle what I have to give."

"I've handled everything so far," you smirk.

"Let's see how you handle the best, then," he mutters. With a wave of his hand, a black tentacle rises to wrap around your midsection, pinning you in place. He's climbing onto the bed, teeth bared like an animal seconds from pouncing. There's hunger in his eyes, desperation in his motion, a frantic bent to the way he's starting to falter, his kayfabe crumbling with every push of his knees. He's got your legs open, mounting you, and you can feel something alive and thrashing, barely contained by the slacks tenting away from his midsection. His eyes are narrowed in ravenous anticipation, his hips pressing him into you, etching his longing lengthwise against the fabric of your underwear. You feel your upper teeth against your lip, knowing that despite all your talk, you can't hide how appreciative you are of his straightforward approach.

With a hoarse exhale, he fumbles with his belt, the restraining tentacle slipping southward to yank your panties down. Your eyes catch a glimpse of how prepared you are for what's coming next, the evidence staining a dark spot in the light fabric. The Radio Demon hikes his slacks down to the midsection of his thighs, the tip of his firmness kissing against your entrance, his erratic movements keeping him from slipping in. You take it in your hands, which makes him rear up in ecstasy, a hissing growl punctuating the reaction, and align it directly where it needs to go. With a thrust motivated by nothing more than primal need, he forces himself deep into you, grunting in satisfaction at your breathy gasps when it settles into your apex. He gives you little time to adjust, burying himself into you with harsh, crushing strokes, the red in his eyes leaving a tracer every time you shut your eyes against the force of it. His hands are against your forearms, pinning the both of them on either side, and when your head goes back, he finds the crook of your neck with his teeth, his tongue, his lips, seasoning you with scratches, leaving welts from kisses and bites. They sting like fire, they excite like aphrodisiac.

"Is that what you mean, my dear? Is that what you're looking for?"

You whimper something that sounds close enough to assent for him to grow bolder, making a map of your body, marking a trail, carving canyons, raising landmarks that stand red and pulsing against the canvas of your skin. All this in the throes of his rutting deep into you. It drives you mad, your legs wrapping around his waist, bidding him to see just how much of his mind he can lose.

"God, your fucking taste. It'd be such a shame to just devour you, though. So many uses for the whole." Or maybe you're using the homophone of that word to make him seem kinder.

A flailing hand finds your throat, freeing your arms by necessity. You catch onto the rack of black antlers nearly driving themselves into the headboard, using them for leverage to arch your back. You can't tell if you've irritated or excited him with your little move, but the result is the same; he's pressing you with enough force that you can feel the force of it in your midsection. You're seeing red, the sound of him making a mess of you ringing in your ears, two organs vying for sensations yet to be experienced, every other part of you a mere pretense, a chorus playing ensemble to the true performance. And he's reaching the climax of it, his bucking hips shaking your entire frame. You can feel every shift of his disposition in the bone of his antlers, and you hold on for dear life as his urge rushes into your lower half, filling you with thick heat. You're moaning unconsciously, letting him keep you impaled for as long as it pulses with diminishing vigor, feeling every twitch in his shaft as it empties itself. Finally spent, he releases you, the tentacle unwinding from around your waist. Your fingers, knuckles sore from strain, release his antlers, and you extricate yourselves from one another. You can feel his seed weep from between your legs, your breathing rapid, your skin slick with sweat. He collapses onto his back, his legs still entangled with yours, the fabric of his slacks a strange texture on your drenched skin. Straining, you lift your head up, seeing that despite his exhaustion, his cock hasn't calmed one bit.

"Still... not satisfied?"

"This damnable rut..."

You pull yourself up, your lower half numb and leaving a trail of translucence as you crawl to the space between his legs. You wrap a hand around him, and he breathes a hissing inhale that tapers into a low, long groan.

"I didn't ask you..."

"You look like you're in misery, you really don't want the help?"

"I am in no position to keep going..."

"So let me handle it."

You can see the conflict playing out in his expression, but his hips gently bucking against your hand tell a different tale. "Not a soul can know about this."

You nod your assent, giving the part that needs it more of your attention. It's as lively as when he was frotting it against you, throbbing with want, coated with spend. It makes a marvelous lubricant, the wet sound of skin against slick skin nearly obscuring his quiet moans.

"I couldn't help but notice that you have sensitivities of your own, sir."

"Surely you can't mean..."

Your free hand dances like a bird across the branches in his horns, his vocalizations and submissive thrusts suggesting that you have stricken quite the nerve. He's already oozing pre into your palm, a searching hand walking a blind path between your legs, caressing you in kind. You've got a wild idea, just crazy enough to sound worth doing. There's a real chance you'll never cross each other's path again, might as well indulge. You spot a path that ends in a blunt point in his rack, and take it into your mouth, flitting your tongue against the rough material, firm and tasteless, but eliciting such a response from him that you'd not dare release it. His fingers are stroking you with all the effort they can muster, his thrusts weak but sincere.

"Cannot believe... you're getting away with this," he whines, his voice so submissive compared to the one you first heard that it threatens to send you over the edge. Why not press your luck? You straddle his waist, inching him into you margin by maddening margin. He's got no more clever quips for you, his curled claws clutching fistfuls of ruined bedsheets. The view from on high is a pleasant one. A few more motions, and you feel that sensation alighting in him once again; you're ready to join him. His whimpers go up an octave, the crackling filter in his voice thickening, distorting. For the second time, he climaxes inside of you, your own orgasm arriving in tandem. The both of you cry out, his subdued and sweet, yours unrestrained and carnal. You fold into him, his initial reaction wanting to pull away, but he grants you this favor, letting you find the crook in his neck in parallel. He speaks unfiltered, more as Alastor than as the Radio Demon.

"You know, it can be so hard to find willing assistants for these difficult times. Perhaps I could call on you again, my dear."

Maybe it should be you that owes Mimzy.

[vinceaddams]

@mxbuster replied to your post “Being a part time alterations tailor may be a very...”:

Omg you are amazing. If you ever want to do a tutorial…….

​Sorry for the delay, I put the photos in a folder on my desktop and immediately forgot they existed.

Alrighty, here is how I shorten modern jacket sleeves.

First I should note that:

I work for a suit store that doesn't take very many outside alterations, meaning almost everything I alter is from the same few brands and I'm used to a specific construction. Other jackets from other brands may have different construction, but it shouldn't be too wildly different.

All the jackets I work on have false buttonholes, or none at all. If you've got one with functional buttonholes (statistically unlikely, but not impossible) you're kind of screwed, unless you need to shorten it by so much they'll all be turned to the inside.

The amount you need to shorten it by should already be marked on the sleeve, or you should have a measurement written down. The salesmen leave a little chalk line for me.

Start by cutting the buttons off. (Both this shop and my previous job use razor blades for this kind of thing, so I can only assume it's common in the professional tailoring world.)

Then turn the sleeve inside out. There will probably be a section on the lining seam where the 2 edges have been topstitched closed. Carefully pick this out with a seam ripper on both sleeves. If it doesn't have this, just open a section of the seam, but not too close to the end of the sleeve.

Often the sleeve lining will be tacked to the outer sleeve's seam allowance in a few places, and you can cut these if they're in the way.

Now you can easily pull out the threads that were holding the buttons on, and can remove the false buttonholes if there are any.

Most of the buttonholes on the jackets I do at work are chain stitch, which means they're easy to pull out quickly once you get one end loose and can un-chain them, but some of them aren't and take a lot longer. I especially hate the ones on the sport coats that have a little contrasting bar tack at the end, those ones are the WORST and take forever to pick off.

There's a seam holding the ends of the lining and outer fabric together. Cut it off.

On jackets with a particularly loose fabric there may be a bit of blindstitching around here holding the end up, same as there is inside a dress pants hem, and you should remove this first. It's big and loopy on the inside and you can find the end and pull on it to make it come apart, just like the string on a potato bag.

There's probably also a bit where the edge of the jacket sleeve is stuck in place with a bit of fusible tape, so pull that apart. Cut through the threads where the seam allowance is sewn to itself, and pick apart the seams that form the corners of the vent.

(I use the razor blade for this too, by pulling the 2 halves of the seam in opposite directions and cutting the threads in between, but you'll probably want to use a seam ripper.) Don't cut the top part of the seam on the vent though, that bit where the seam allowance juts out to provide extra material for the overlap should still be sewn shut, as you can see at the top of the photo below.

Turn the sleeve back right side out and mark the new line all the way around. At work I mainly use wax chalk which disappears as soon as you iron it, but regular chalk works too, it'll just take a bit more work to brush it all off after.

Press out all the creases from the old seams at the corners. (I have to be careful not to get steam on my wax lines, or else they'll disappear.)

Now press the end of the sleeve in and make the new crease. Sometimes I press out the old crease first, if it's far enough away from the marked line, but sometimes not.

I like to press both layers of sleeve at once in the middle, avoiding squishing the sides, and then I press each of those side bits using this little dense pillow thingy we have at work. It's kind of like a tailor's ham but small. You could easily make one and fill it with scraps, it's a useful thing to have. Make sure the overlap & underlap are facing the correct way.

I then straighten out the sleeve and see how the lining length looks. The end of the lining is usually quite wrinkled, so I press it first.

Here the lining is barely protruding, so I didn't trim anything off, but if there's more than about 1.5 cm sticking out past the sleeve then I'll trim that excess off.

Turning the sleeve back inside out, trim any excess off the folded up bit. I try to keep this bit about 4.5 cm wide, so this one just needed a little bit removed.

At this point you may want to add a bit more fusible interfacing to the button area, but it usually goes pretty far up, so I only do this if I'm shortening the sleeve by a LOT. (And if I'm shortening it by that much then there probably isn't enough overlap left to redo the vent.)

Now there should be creases showing where the new vent corners will be. On the underlap side I mark a little + right where I'll start sewing there.

And on the overlap side (the one with the mitred corner) I mark a diagonal x and then draw a line over the whole corner with a ruler, like so.

That is NOT your stitching line!!

This corner isn't perfectly square, it's a slightly wider angle. So when I fold that corner right sides together and match up the lines I start sewing from the tip of that marked line at the fold, but I veer off at a slight angle (in the direction of the seam allowance) and end about 4 mm out from it.

It's not very clear in the below picture, but you can hopefully see it.

Flip those 2 corners right side out, turn the whole sleeve right side out again, and press those corners nice and flat. I use the little sleeve pillow for this too.

Then you can pin the overlap shut just the way you want it to sit, turn it inside out again, and carefully re-pin it so the pin is on the inside, before removing the first pin.

(I actually skip this step and just pin it from the inside and go straight to the rest of the sewing up, and then press the corners after the lining is closed up, but I've done hundreds of these at this point so you'll probably want to do it this way.)

Sew the two halves of the vent together so that it'll stay closed. Just a tiny spot of backstitching on the seam allowances, like so.

Now you can match up the ends of the lining and outer sleeve and reattach them. I always start with the seam opposite the vent, since the vent side doesn't line up precisely.

I put them together like this, right side to right side, and pull those ends out through that opening in the lining before pinning it closed.

Then sew it, starting and finishing on either side of the vent.

There will likely be a small gap between the ends of the seam, since the vent is in the way, but this doesn't matter.

On the non vent side, clip into one of the seam allowances right below the seam.

Fold that seam allowance right sides together, keeping the rest of the sleeve out of the way, and sew it to itself. This is the same bit of stitching you removed earlier in the process, and it helps to keep the end of the sleeve from sagging.

If the seam allowances are too small or frayed you can also just turn it back right sides out and stick a bit of fusible tape in there.

Stuff everything back so that it's right sides out but the sleeve itself is still inside out, and redo that topstitching on the linings. (Or do it for the first time if there wasn't any. You may want to press the lining first if you don't have two nice creased edges.)

If this is your own personal nice jacket you might prefer to slipstitch it closed by hand, or to instead machine sew it closed from the inside and hand sew the lining back to the end of the sleeve, but I'm obviously not going to do that for my very low paying alterations job.

Turn the sleeve right sides out, sew the buttons back on, and you're done!

Nice mitred corner and all!

The first time I did this it took me over 2 hours because I didn't know what I was doing, but 5 years later I've got it down to about 45 minutes.

If the sleeve needs to be shortened by so much that there isn't enough overlap material left to redo the vent, then I just sew it shut and fold the whole thing up. I have to add new interfacing behind the buttons, as mentioned. For this I also need to turn it back right side out before I close up the lining, so I can stick the not-vent-anymore area to itself with some fusible tape.

Sometimes I have to lengthen sleeves, and for that the process is fairly similar, except of course I have to carefully unpick the seam at the end of the sleeve instead of cutting it off, and I sew an extra strip of fabric to the end. (I keep a box of cut off ends from some of the pants I've hemmed for this.)

For that you also need to use fusible tape for both seam ends, because when you've added an extra bit on you can't sew the seam allowance to itself. The amount you can lengthen a sleeve by is limited, since you need to make sure the new piece of material is entirely folded to the inside and out of view.

I hope this helps and makes sense!

[reasonsforhope]

"At HarperCollins, a lot of attention and thought is given to deciding exactly what combinations of margin measurements, font, and layout feel most appropriate for the genre, and writing style.

But in a case of do-your-part environmentalism, designers at the publishing house have now standardized a series of subtle and imperceptible alterations to normal font style, layouts, and ink that have so far removed the need for 245 million book pages, totaling 5,618 trees.

Telling the story in Fast Company, representatives from HarperCollins, one of the four largest publishing houses in the world, explained that the idea first arose in Zondervan Bibles, HarperCollins’ Christian publishing division. Being that the Bible is 2,500 pages or sometimes more, saving ink and pages was not just an environmental consideration, but one of production costs.

A new typeface called NIV Comfort Print allowed Zondervan to shave 350 pages off of every Bible, which by 2017 had amounted to 100 million pages, and which, as Fast Company points out, would be four times higher than the Empire State Building if stacked.

The production and design teams then wondered how much they could save if they applied the same concepts to other genres like romance and fiction. Aside from the invention of the eBook, publishing hasn’t changed much in the last 100 years, and the challenge was a totally novel one for the teams—to alter all their preconceived ideas and try and find a font and typeface that resulted in fewer pages without being harder to read.

They eventually standardized 14 different combinations their tests determined were the most environmentally friendly, and which delivered an unchanged reading experience.

But the challenge didn’t stop there. Printed books, one might not know, are printed in large sheets which are then folded into sections of sixteen pages, meaning that Leah Carlson-Stanisic, associate director of design at HarperCollins, has to calculate the savings of space, words, and ultimately pages with the help of her team to fall in multiples of sixteen.

Nevertheless, they have been successful with it so far, and in the recent print run of one popular book, 1 million pages (or a number near 1 million that coincides with the 16 times tables) were saved.

“We want to make sure our big titles, by prominent authors, are using these eco-fonts,” Carlson-Stanisic said. “It adds up a little bit at a time, saving more and more trees.”"

-via Good News Network, April 4, 2024

--

Note: Great! Waiting to see this on the rest of their books and at the other big publishers!

Actually, though, it's worth noting that this may not come quickly to the other large publishers, because Harper Collins almost certainly owns that font - meaning that other publishers would have to pay HarperCollins in order to use it, on an ongoing basis.

More on publishing shit and more realistic solutions here below the cut!

What I'm hoping for and think is more likely is that this will inspire the development of open source eco-friendly fonts, which would be free for anyone to use. That would make it far more likely other publishers would adopt eco-friendly fonts.

I'm also hoping it would inspire other publishers to create similar eco-friendly fonts of their own.

Ideally, there would be a whole new landscape of (hopefully mostly open source) eco-friendly fonts. And/or to see calculations of the eco-friendliness of popular existing fonts, compared to each other.

If we could have a publicly accessible list of calculations for different fonts, including fonts designed to maximize eco-friendliness, I really do think that it would affect which fonts publishers choose to use. Here's why:

Most people in publishing are on the left (notoriously, actually) and really do care about the environment

People in publishing are plenty aware of these issues re: paper and trees, I promise

Shorter books means smaller production costs - and possibly smaller shipping costs as well, over time! So it would save them money too.

Eco-friendly fonts could also be combined with other measures for greater effect, such as bamboo paper (already in use for a lot of projects where page color/quality is more flexible) and thinner paper (aka paper with a lower weight) that uses less trees.

Don't expect books to all move to just one or two different fonts, though. Publishers and typesetters and font designers will innovate to create more options instead, though it will take longer. This is because different books really do use different fonts for various different reasons - one new font to rule them all isn't really a solution here.

"Every book is in the same font" may sound like a "whatever" deal to a lot of people, but as someone who works in publishing - trust me, it would actually make your reading experience worse, even if you could never quite put your finger on why.

[foulphantomllama]

The Pen: One-Shot | Pool Winner

Ahn Yujin x Male Reader (POV)

I was so tired that I go straight to bed when I arrived home. And then, of course I was late in the morning. I shouldn’t be late tho. Because today was a big day. I got out from the bed, brushed my teeth and wore my jeans and shirt in nearly just five minutes. I hoped into my car and drive straight to the record studio. I worked with many famous artists. But today, IVE  were visiting us to record a special track. I was too excited to see my bias, Yujin. I dreamed about this day ever since I knew that they were coming to our studio. I even prepared my albums and photocards in order to get them signed by the group. But especially Yujin.

But there was a big problem. I already got the text from my friend that says they’re about to be here. And the problem was that I forgot my bag in home. As you can guess, I was already there, at the record studio. I rushed inside my booth and make my preparations. It was that moment that I realized that I forgot my bag at home. Fuck. There was no turning back from there. They’re here, our secretary opened the booths door and said to me. I went out from the booth and greet the girls. They were even more gorgeous than they look on the screen. Especially Yujin, oh boy she was glowing. I briefed them about the song and the standart procedure, then we started. I turned back to my booth. And we did a part of the recording. I was so dehydrated and I needed a cofee break. I got out from the recording booth and went downstairs to get myself a coffee. Many of my friends from work knew that I was obssessed with Yujin. Some of them were encouraging me to talk to her. I mean, I did not see the point? What is going to happend? We suddenly start dating? I got my coffee and went upstairs.

I returned to my place and give the greenlight to the team to start recording again. But suddenly, power went out. Generators were not working. This happened to us before tho. I was familiar with the problem so we just used the backup generators. But sadly, they were no good for powering up our recording gear. It was just for lights and kitchen. So that we can survive in the studio and do the lightwork until the problem gets fixed. Sometimes it get fixed quickly, sometimes it takes a remarkable amount of time. I went out to talk to the girls agent. This kind of artists were using different artists in different countries, in US, they working with an American agent. I never seen or heard about her.  So I asked how many days will the girls will be around. She told me 4 maybe 5. I said that we may have to postpone the recording for today so that the girls go to their hotels and rest. She said it is a great idea. She went to the other room to make phonecalls to arrange a driver for the girls. During that time, I went into my cabin again and start looking at my phone. I never realized that Yujin was doing the same in the recording are. my eyes caught Yujin sitting in the recording area of the booth. She smiled and wawed at me. This was an interaction I was not expecting. I studied Korean in my University years and I was familiar with the language. Although has been a long time since I used it. I said, fuck it! When are you going to get the chance to talk to Yujin again? I got out of my section of the booth and get right inside to the recording area. She was wearing white knee socks, a crop tank top and jean shorts. And let me tell you, her shorts was literally short. I tried not to look at her legs and belly button so that I would not look like a creep in our first interaction.

I said hi with my broken Korean. She greeted me with a kind gesture. You know the little bowing they do when they greet somebody. I did the same. She asked me if I know Korean, or If i just know the basics like greeting and asking names. I said that I think that we can communicate in Korean. She said that not many Americans know Korean. “They barely know English don’t worry.” She laughed at my joke very loudly. I insulted my own people to make Yujin laugh. Totally worth it tho. We surprizingly started chatting about things about life and work. Then, their manager get inside the booth. And opened Google translate in order to tell Yujin something. She looked at me with a smiling face. It was a reference to the thing I said about Americans. I already fell into her humour. “I can translate.” I said to her agent. She relieved. “Tell her that we’re stuck here for a moment because I did not find any cars to drive them to the hotel.” I translated this to Yujin. She asked me to ask about the girls. “What about the other girls?” I asked. “They’re visiting the area with some guards. We can arrange a host for her if she wants to do so too.” I translated this too. Yujin replied “No, I will wait here. Thank you.” I was surprised. “She stays. Don’t worry she is in good hands.” I replied to the agent. She said whatever and went out. And she come back in “If the power does not fixed in a few hours we will go to the hotel somehow.” Again, I translated. She answered in English. “Okay.” The agent went out again.

Yujin continued in her cute english “She talks very much.” She giggled. I laughed. “You want a coffee?” She nodded. “Yes, please.” I went downstairs to get her a coffee in a flash. I grabbed a coffee want went upstairs very quickly. My friends were cheering for me. Of course there were cameras. I gave her the coffee and went into my recording booth, unplugged the camera and went back in. Our chat was too fun. We talked about music, industry, movies and many things. She is even a better person than you see and read in online. She is an angel. Literally.

My eyes were having a hard time trying not to look at her thighs and legs. But It was literally impossible. I tried to distract myself by saying that she is my bias in IVE. The moment I said this, her face blushed. I can see that she was embarassed. I tried to comfort her by saying “And you’re even prettier in real life.” I don’t think what I said helped her the slightest, but I wanted to say it anyways. But I can see that she was a little bit more comfortable about this whole situation when I said “I wanted to bring you my albums and wanted you to sign but..” She interrupted “What happened?” I answered, “I forgot them at home when I was trying to be here on time for you.” “Oh, that is so cute. I still sign them for you If you want.” I asked how can we do it. She answered. “Maybe I can come around with you and sign them for you. Is your house far away from here?”

That was an answer i did not expect. She just really wanted to come home with me? Should I do it? “It’s not very far away. A seven or eight minute drive and I’m home.” “Great!” she answered. As soon as we finish this recording, I will come with you and sign your albums she said. “We probably going to finish tomorrow. I bring them with me if you want.” She looked at me. “No, don’t carry them around with you. I can come with you.” I agreed. After a moment of silence, she took the last sip from her coffee and wanted a pen. I gave her mine. I always keep a pen in my pocket. She signed the paper cup and gave it to me. “Let’s start with this.”   And then her agent came in. “Let’s go” she said, our car is here.

And she went with her agent. It was going so good that I did not wanted it to end. At least, I got a promise from her. She will come to my home and sign my albums and photocards. I did not mention this to anybody. And I went home. Later that night I got a text from the studio. The problem was fixed and the studio was ready for recording. At least we did half of the song. Only a few hours of work left to do.

As I was getting ready to go to bed, I got a notification. IT WAS FROM YUJIN. SHE MESSAGED ME. It was saying, “I got your instagram from our agent. She asked so many questions. LOL.” “Oh, Hi!” I texted back. And I wanted to be a little bit funny. “Do I know you, princess?” She sent me a sticker of a cat holding a heart. And texted “Can you send me pictures of your photocards?” I got up and took a little video of my binder for her, then sent it. She replied quickly. “Even from IZ*ONE?”  “Yup.” I replied. “You deserve a lot of signs lol” She texted. And continued texting. “I need to sleep now but.. See you tomorrow.” She texted and sent that cat emoji again. I wished her good night. She liked my message. Then I went to sleep. Or at least I tried.

In the morning, if i completely be honest, I waited for a good morning message. I opened our chat and started typing things. But i did not sent anything. When I was doing so, she suddenly texted. “Morning. What were you typing?” I quickly had the control of the situation by saying; “I wanted to tell you good morning but i did not sure that you’re awake. And I did not want to wake you up.” The cat sticker. Again. “Your pen is with me right now. I forgot to give it back.” “You can keep it if you liked it” I replied. “Thank you, I will sign your albums with this. Haha.” She replied again. I said that I need to go to the studio. “See you at the recording.” I texted. She liked my message. But no cat sticker this time.

I arrived at the studio. The girls were already there. We quickly started the recording. It went pretty well. We finished even quicker than I expected. We wrapped up the recording and they left the studio. Except Yujin. When a K-Pop artist comes another country to record a special track, they had time to explore the country and buy some souvenirs. Yujin decided to spend her time with me. But her attitude was different from yesterday. She was like more.. intimitading. She approached me. This time she was wearing a skirt and a crop t-shirt. And a Nike shoe. That crop was a must. She loved to show her abs.

As we started to walk towards my car, she said that she needs a cover up before entering my car. She said someone might took her photos and start rumours. I gave her a cap and a long coat. We entered my car very quickly. And I drove her away from a safer zone. Along the way, she kept asking me personal questions. But the most important one was when she asked “Do you have a girlfriend?” “No” I answered. And I don’t know why i kept giving her my personal information but, i continued; “She cheated on me. So we broke up.” “What a bitch!” she answered. Then she quickly get emberassed because she swore. “Don’t worry” I said. You are still so cute when you are swearing. She laughed. “I wouldn’t cheat on you beacuse you’re a good person. And you’re handsome too.” She said. I was pretty shocked to hear this. I looked at her face. “Look at the road.” She turned my face towards to the road. “You will see my face enough today.” She continued. “It will never be enough tho.” I answered. “Sorry If i offended you by saying I wouldn’t cheat on you. I did not upsed you did I? “She asked. “Why would I be offended by that?” I asked. She kept her silence for a moment. And contiuned; “You always say I’m so cute, so beautiful, Aren’t I sexy and hot?” Okay. This was something different. She obviously trying to flirt with me. I was very close to get a one night stand with my bias. I was feeling confident.

We arrived my house. I opened her door and hold her hand while she got out from my car. She thanked me and we started walking to my house. I have a modest house. I am a successfull record producer. But also I try to live a humble life. She was fascinated by my house. I never understand if she was being polite or if she really liked it but, that was the situation.

After we entered the house, she said that if I have something fresh to drink. I offered her a beer or a coke. She took the beer. As he was drinking her beer, she got up and started to walk around my house. My record collection, my computer. She was taking a full interest in me. The she asked “Where are your albums and cards. I want to see them.” I gave her the bag. She started to sign them with my pen. And after some time she finished signing them. She put them onto my desk. And sit beside me. “Do you love me?” She asked. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Come on, you said I’m your bias. Didn’t you ever jerked off to my fancam?” Okay. It was happening. “I think about it.” I said. I got a boner sometimes. But I did not jerked off to you.” She took of her phone and checked to clock. It was 2 P.M. “I need to be in the Hotel by 4 P.M.” She said. “We have two hours.” Two hours for what I asked. She didn’t even replied and just kissed me on the cheek. I hold her neck and started kissing her lips. She started to took my clothes off. I did the same. She was left with her socks and her bra. I was only with my pants and my socks. She took of my pants and sit on my leg. We were kissing very passionately. Our lips were sealed to each other and our tongues were dancing in each others mouth. I took off her panties. And I carried her to my bedroom. Throw her to the bed and get on top of her. I started to kiss her every inch. Her nose, her lips and her neck. I started to go down slowly. I squeezed her tits. My cock was rock hard. But kissing her soft lips and her soft boobs was feeling like heaven. But I needed to go down on her and eat her pussy. When I started to eat her pussy, her body was shaking with my every touch. She was getting goosebumps everytime i lick her clit. It was so wet and so soft. I started fingering her pussy. After a while, I gave her an orgasm. Her juice was all over my hand. I licked my hand and I turned her back and started licking her asshole. “Don’t, It’s so gross.” She said while moaning. I answered “No, I want this.” As she was moaning and saying things in Korean, I stopped licking her asshole. Gave her ass a good spank and turned her back to me. “I want to suck your cock.” She looked at me with her cute eyes. I lay down on my bed, she get up and started to suck my cock. Yujin was sucking my cock.

She was so good. As she sucked my cock, I felt like she was sucking my soul off from my body. “Are you coming?” She asked me. “Yes, a little bit more, then I will be coming.” She stopped and said; “Do you want to cum on my boobs or on my back?” “I want to cum on your belly button.” I said. “You do that.” I was about to cum, I said to her that I was about to cum. I hold my wet cock. And started jerking it off to Yujin’s belly. My ropes of cum were on her belly. She rub her belly with her finger and eat my cum. “You should have just cum into my mouth” She said. “We still have time” I said.

She asked me for a condom. I always carry one in my wallet. I took of my wallet and take the condom inside. She hand gestures me saying give me the condom. She took the condom into his hands. Her red nail polish looked so sexy while she is holding my cock. She put the condom on, and turn her back to me. She was bent over in front of me. I got closer to her pussy and kissed it. Then i put my cock into her pussy. She was moaning like hell. But I wasn’t gentle with her. I put the tip in, waited a second that put it all the way in. Very hard.  I was hammering her. Holding her waist. I was holding her waist so hard that it was starting to go red. I let go of her waist and started to spank her ass. Left, right, left, right. With each spank, she was moaning a little more. I realized that I was about to cum, so I changed the position. Since she is very tiny, I was able to turn her face to me. I put her legs to my shoulder and took of her socks. Her little feet was on my face. I was kissing her feet wile i pound her pussy. She was screaming in English at this point. Then I put her legs down and get a little bit closer to her face. I was kissing her face as I was fucking her pussy. She was also scraching my back like crazy. As I pound her, she started to scrach a little bit more. At some point, I can feel that my back was bleeding.

She came for a second time. This time it was all over my cock and my legs. I continued to pound her pussy. I was about to cum. I took off the condom in a hurry, get closer to her face and cum on her face. She licked the cum near her lips. I gave her a napkin. She cleaned her face. Her face was so pink. I can tell that I fucked her really good. She hugged me. That hug was better than the sex. She looked at the time. “We have 20 minutes.” she said. “Where is your pen? I need your pen.” She continued. I got up and brought her the pen. She signed my left chest. And kissed it. “I was thinking about singing your forehead but you need to drive me to the hotel.” She said. I laughed. “Now I have two reasons not to take a bath” I said. “What was the first?” she asked. “Your smell is all over me. I never want it to disappear.” I answered. She hugged me again. “Will you help me dress up?” “Of course.” I answered. I helped her wear her clothes. She did not wear her bra and her socks. “You can keep those. In case you miss my smell.” She said. Then I asked “Will I Ever see you again?” She hugged me again and said; “I don’t think so. But If you see me again, you can be sure that we’re going to do this again.” I was devastated to hear that but, what else was going to happen? “I will text you tho.” She continued. “Now, let’s go. I’m going to be late.” I get dressed up and carried her to the car. As we were getting closer to the hotel, a sadness was taking over my body. Her little hand was on my thigh. It was a feeling that cannot be described with words.

Then we arrived at her hotel. She took off the pen one last time, put on her cap and coat and signed my forehead. Gave me a kiss on the lips. “Goodbye.” She said. “Goodbye.” I replied. As she got into the hotel and disappeared from my sight, I was just standing here. Frozen. Trying to process what happened in the last few hours. I smelled my right hand. It was still smelling like her.

And I drove off to my home.

THE END.

[polyamorouspunk]

What Stealing Looks Like

From someone who works in retail

Leaving behind empty packages. The only way we can report an item being stolen if we didn’t see the crime with our own eyes is by finding an empty package. If there’s no empty package, it’s very easy to chalk it up to a slightly incorrect inventory. Our inventory is often very incorrect.

Seeing someone lurking around the store for a long period of time not actively engaging in items. It’s suspicious. You know that feeling you get when you see people just loitering around? Similar feeling when you see someone just casually looking at products without really picking up anything to actually buy. Retail employees are bored and WILL follow you around and check the sections you’ve been lurking in.

Looking at items with a big bag/backpack. If you’re really interested in some items and you have a big bag, retail employees are going to watch you leave and then immediately swarm to the items you were looking at.

Being too engaged in products. Maybe you aren’t stealing but it might throw up a red flag. Also interacting with employees an irregular amount. Once again maybe not stealing but we’ll remember you more if you talk to us often. I feel like this should be obvious but you never know.

Anyway, feel free to reblog this to let your followers know what stealing looks like! I’m mostly harping on the first point here. Also please remember it is a federal crime to tamper with security devices and you will be in MORE trouble for doing that than actually stealing sometimes. Not that any of you are stealing of course.

[marleyybluu]

Scream

Spooky Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 821

Content Warning(s): 18+, smut out the ass, mask kinks, p in v, little bit of porn, little bit of plot, Spooky's big fucking arms, I picture spooky hella tatted, the reader is not race-coded, reader speaks and understands Spanish, no one is pulling out (I seriously have a problem), backshots anyone? mirror sex anyone?, I'm toasted rn so sorry for the mistakes, lmk if i missed any or if i forgot to tag you

A/N: if yall know me well enough, you know what kind of state of mind I'm in 🍃and I just thought I'd write a little quickie since Halloween is next week and I don't think I've ever written anything in regard to Halloween so here we are.

(not mine, got it off Pinterest. i could koala cuddle those arms fuuuuck)

It started off as a joke. You'd become influenced by the amount of Ghost face masks you'd seen on TikTok, girls buying their boyfriends the infamous Ghost face mask so that they could put it on and pretend to be the killer from the movie, a few even accessorized with a fake knife and the women always seemed to get off on the idea. It was weird to you, at first, but then you became curious about what he would look like with the mask on. Maybe you'd open up a new kink for yourself, or maybe not but it was worth a try. 

So you went to Spirit Halloween and travelled over to the mask section where only two of the Scream masks were hanging. It seemed like you weren't the only inquisitive one. You bought some other things to decorate the porch with and headed back home. You called out to your boyfriend saying you needed a favour. He sprints into the living room where he sees your hands behind your back and that smirk on your face, you were up to no good. 

You present him with the mask and he chuckles shaking his head. You tell him that you want to know what he'd look like in it, but you don't want to see him try it on in front of you, you want him to walk into the room like the videos you'd seen. You hand him the mask and trot upstairs and into your shared bedroom where you sit patiently on the bed. 

It took a few minutes but you'd finally heard the creaking of the stairs, your heart raced with anticipation and a familiar tingle in your fingers and toes. All over your body really. He emerges from the dark hallway into your dimly lit room and leans against the door frame. Your breath gets caught in your throat, and your thighs squeeze together. He had upped it a bit by removing his shirt and all he had on was a grey wifebeater and sweats to match. His arms were so big and his chest was so large, his broad shoulders adding to the attraction and his scattered tattoos were a bonus. 

You blink and before you know it those clothes, accompanied by your own, have been disregarded and scattered all over the floor. And somehow, here you were, face shoved into the mattress and back arched professionally. His enormous hands gripped your waist as he pulled you into his thrusts making you feel every inch, every vein that was prominent on his shaft. You whine, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life as he pounded you, the bed shaking and creaking to match his rhythm. 

"Look up, mi amor, this what you wanted right?" He mocked, you raise your head with the little bit of strength you had and looked up at the mirror across from the end of your bed, you bite your lip, the sight was something out of Twitter porn. The mask, his arms, the grip he had on your flesh, the way your ass recoils every time it collides with his pelvis-- Oh it was almost magical. "Fuck! That feels so fucking good." You whimper, your toes curl and you feel another orgasm approaching, only the gods in heaven knew what number this one was. You cried as you felt your hands, with a mind of their own, move from their position as you tried to crawl away from him, it was too much, the sheets were damn near soaked and sticky. 

Spooky caught on and pulled you back. "¿Adónde vas, cariño? Hm? Can't take it?"

You gasp as he draws you close to him, his strong arms hooked around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. "Oh, fuck, fuck,fuck!" Was all you could get out before your walls squeezed him, your head in the cloud and your vision completely fucked out. Your head falls back on his shoulder while he continues to slam into you, his own high slowly creeping over him. He takes off the mask and kisses your neck, licking and sucking enough to leave his mark. 

"You want me to come for you, bebita?" He grunts hotly in your ear, you moan and nod as an answer. Usually, he would tell you to use your words but considering your current sex-dazed state, he'd leave it alone for today. He buries his dick deep, his throbbing erection painting your walls making them extra sticky. You smile drunkenly when he affectionately nudges the back of your shoulder with his nose. "You always feel so fucking good, baby, I fucking swear." He praises, now kissing your skin. "Te amo." You manage to squeak out. 

He chuckles. "Te amo, mamita." 

He playfully smacks your ass before easing his way out of you, you fall on to the bed and sigh, completely and utterly satisfied. 

Thank god for TikTok trends.

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

see you in the next one. peace and love 🤙🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb @librarian1002

who might be interested: @miyahmaraj @bigenergy777

[yeosatinyngz]

ME OR LUMIERE?

Xavier is jealous of your love for Lumiere (A lil twist to Xavier’s new myth story)

↳GN Reader | wc: 982 | Fluff/suggestive mention at the end

A/N: I'm trying to get my groove back for written pieces since I've only been making text fics so I hope this piece was alright, don't expect too much

With the arrival of the new film Apocalypse’s Dawn in theaters you excitedly dragged Xavier along with you since it was starring your all time favorite hero, Lumiere. Xavier on the other hand wasn’t nearly as excited as you were, matter of fact he was completely disinterested. 

After watching the film all you could do was talk about Lumiere and frankly it was getting on Xavier’s nerves. “Can we stop talking about him already and get some food instead? All your gushing over him has made me hungry” He grumpily murmured while storming away to find the nearest restaurant. What’s his problem? You thought to yourself while you tried to keep up with the irritated male. 

Xavier swore he didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he has somehow found himself pressed against the wall behind you and Tara, trying to hide his presence. He was just minding his business until he heard Tara ask you about your ideal type which stopped him in his tracks and led to him in his current position. 

You answered rather passionately, “My ideal type is someone like Lumiere. Brave, strong, selfless, not to mention handsome. He’s everything I can only dream about.” Tara couldn’t help but smile, “Ah that’s right I remember you mentioning being a big fan of Lumiere. It’s a shame that we don’t have more men like him” You nodded in agreement to Tara’s statement before you both had to part ways.

The bleach blonde who was eavesdropping displays a face of pure annoyance. Lumiere again?! 

Your eyes were fighting to beat unconsciousness from the amount of stress you put on yourself from fighting off a sudden wave of wanderers. As you were struggling to keep up your breathing a wanderer appeared before you about to strike you with an attack This is the end you helplessly voiced in your head. However, a flash of bright light appeared and the wanderer who was seconds away from finishing you was now defeated. The last image you had before you fully submerged into darkness was a figure resembling the same person who saved you 14 years ago. 

You woke up with a jolt to find yourself back in the comfort of your bed. Confused on how you ended back home, you were startled by a voice you know all too well. “Had a good sleep?” You looked up to see Xavier and nodded. That’s when all the memories were flashing back into your head and you looked Xavier straight in his eyes. “You- you saved me back there.” You said before softly adding on, “Lumiere saved me again.” 

You searched in Xavier’s eyes to try to find some sort of answer only to find a look of indifference. “That’s not what’s important right now, what matters right now is you getting a proper rest.” You awkwardly pressed your lips into a thin line and stayed quiet. The silence was quickly broken by Xavier, “So you’re a big fan of Lumiere huh?” 

That’s when you realized that while you were sleeping Xavier had seen the Lumiere shrine section of your room, decorated with a giant poster of him on the wall and a shelf with his merchandise including figures, plushies and pins. You shyly looked away from his piercing gaze while letting out an embarrassed laugh, “Yeah.”

He grabs ahold of your chin and turns it back so your eyes meet him once again. “Who do you like more, me or Lumiere?” The sudden question shocked you beyond disbelief. “So what’s your answer?” He demanded, snapping you out of your shock. “Uh I’m confused, Aren’t you and Lumiere the same person?”

He looks away with a slight frown, “But you don’t see them as such.” He looks back at you with that piercing gaze again while sitting next to you, slamming both his hands down besides your body, caging you in between his arms, “While Lumiere is handsome and courageous I’m nothing but your coworker aren’t I?” 

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Bringing your hands up to cup his face he looks away again with a pout on his face, you shook his face in your hands. “Oh my, are you perhaps jealous of Lumiere?” His pout deepens while he lets out a, “No, I’m not.” You couldn’t help but laugh again, “You’re too cute when you’re jealous.” You proceeded to plant a kiss on his forehead, “My answer is you, Xavier. It’s always been you.”

His eyes widened as he intensely searched your eyes to find truth behind your words. What he found was a pair of sincere eyes full of endearment. The same pair of eyes that he's been yearning to see for all these years. This was the moment he felt himself slipping, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. 

He softly smiles at you while tucking the hair in front of your face behind your ear, “Please stop me if you don’t want me to continue but I can’t control myself any longer when it comes to you.” Before you could process his words fully, his arm snakes around your waist pulling you closer to him, connecting both of your lips.

What started off as a sweet and tender kiss turned into something much more passionate, you can feel the desperation from Xavier’s kiss. He was kissing you as if it was his last, every attempt you made to free yourself from his lips would fail as he continued latching on to your lips.

When he finally freed himself of your lips you were a panting mess. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it was gonna fly straight out of your body. How was this the same Xavier who was pouting cutely not too long ago? That was the night you found out that there was another identity Xavier was hiding from you, his freak in the sheets identity.

[sweetwolfcupcake]

The Taste of Deceit( Hyung line Part One)

Request

Yandere Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, Dark Characters with Darker Intentions. And the plot would only get darker from here. Disturbing imagery, allusions, blood.

Word Count: 14k+ (Yes, I lost myself in the flow)

(GIF credits to the owner. I do not own them)

Kindly excuse the typos and errors

*****

The night was young and the stars were restless.

The night was young and the club was booming.

The night was young…

yet it felt like the darkest hour when his eyes met hers. 

(Y/N) worked as a bartender at an elite bar in the city- sort-after, high-end, but oddly lowkey. It was subtle, but an experienced pair of eyes would point out the oddities with ease.

As he sauntered towards her section, she busied herself with arranging the glasses and the mixers.

She had sworn to herself that she would stay out of trouble, and the broad-shouldered man with lips that seemed to be the carrier of kisses from paradise looked nothing less than trouble- big, deep trouble. 

“What specials do we have tonight?”

(YN) almost flinched at his voice, but her actions remained smooth as ever as she arranged the glasses. She managed to put up a smile though

“Cosmopolitan, French 75 and Paloma.”

“Cosmopolitan with olives please.” 

Even his voice was honey-like. But it held an unusual edge to it– some rare kind of honey- light but the right amount of sweet.

“I haven’t seen you before.” 

He stated as a matter of fact.

“I joined a few months ago,” she replied 

“I visited here last week.”

“I used to work the morning shift, it’s my first day in the evening shift.” she replied softly while handing him his drink.”

He smiled as he sipped from his drink but his eyes never left hers.

“Hope it’s not too overwhelming for you?”

“A little.” she admitted sheepishly “But my colleagues have been incredibly helpful, I think I will be settled soon.”

He hummed before finishing off his drink with a swig “I am Jin,” he offered his hand for a shake. 

With a somewhat hesitant smile, she took it– his hold was firm but his hands felt warm and smooth, just like his eyes.

The night was young and the stars were restless.

The night was young and the club was booming.

The night was young, yet when he smiled, 

it felt like slow electricity pulsing through the air

Jin– Kim Seokjin.

(Y/N) noted. The description that she was provided did no justice to what she was experiencing at the moment– his aura, his appearance, everything hit her at once.

The night was still young

And it was a long way ahead.

But officer (Y/N) (L/N) was determined.

“Liya. My name is Liya Grace.” she introduced herself.

The night was young

And she had taken the first step

—------------

Kim Seokjin was many things, Liya came to know that with her two years spent with him. He was a perfect gentleman, and he remembered exactly how many teaspoons of sugar she liked in her coffee and he oddly remembered the days that were otherwise insignificant to Officer (Y/N)- the person behind the mask of sweet and charming Liya Grace.

Little things mattered to Kim Seokjin, (Y/N) had realised– when Liya would cook dinner for him and wait up to reheat it even if her eyes would be droopy. When she would remember what tie he liked on certain days. When she would help him with fixing his tie and cuff links. Or when she would bring him his coffee to his home office every two hours.

One might misunderstand those as his expectation at first glance, but no– he never expected or assumed that he was not of the kind.

But the little gestures of care and devotion made him happy. It assured him that his partner was just as devoted to him as he was.

And was he a sincere lover– to the extent that (Y/N) felt a prick of guilt every time she replied to his soft, quiet declarations of love.

Jin was a lover straight out of a woman’s daydreams. 

One would never believe how the hands that touched her so delicately were the ones that pushed his enemies to their dooms.

But (Y/N) knew. She knew because she had witnessed him strangle men twice his size with ease– it was like buying bread to him- mundane business.

His eyes would be chillingly nonchalant and they were the windows for the sinister beast in him to peek through.

But only (Y/N) knew of this side of him– undercover officer (L/N)(Y/N) who was quick and quiet and never even breathed loud but took all the pictures right, and never forgot to set bugs in his office. Officer (Y/N) was subtle and clever, after all.

Liya Grace, however, was naive and oblivious, believing in whatever her beloved boyfriend fed her. He owned chains of hotels, exclusive nightclubs and restaurants. What was odd with that? Some red wine sprinkled on his white shirt? Happens! Why would not she believe him?

That was not technically a lie. Jin did own all of them. But they were the surface, the strong shields protecting his underground illegal weapon dealings– his real business.

It would have been so easy to fool any ordinary civilian, but (Y/N) was no ordinary civilian. 

“You’re late. Again.” 

“I’m sorry Jagi, you know well that I am– it’s those old investors, always looking for loopholes in my projects.”

Potential buyers

(Y/N) corrected him mentally  as she scoffed and turned away pretending to be upset 

“Liya–love, you can’t be angry at me now, it's only–uh– a bit late…” he trailed off as he glanced at his limited edition watch.

“It’s two in the morning Jin.” she huffed while reheating his dinner 

“Hmm, pretty late, but you are still awake sweetheart.”

“Yes”

Just getting some confidential documents.

“I wanted to talk.”

“Everything alright Jagi?” he sounded concerned but her smile soothed his frown

“Just considering visiting my parents. Haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Why? I mean is everything okay there?”

“Oh no, I just miss them.”

There was another thing (Y/N) had noticed about Kim Seokjin. He liked to keep her for himself.

He was a possessive man, more so emotionally than physically. It was normal for lovers to be possessive, but his sense of possession extended a bit too far.

And it made (Y/N) squirm sometimes– she could swear it was just her being uncomfortable, but deep down, she knew that there was a sinister edge to his love and it made an eerie anticipation bloom in her heart.

“Why not we go to meet them this weekend? You can finally introduce me to them then?”

“Oh Jin, no need of that, you already have a tight schedule.”

There was no way that she could let all her hard work go down the drain.

“But Liya, I have to meet them someday.”

“Sure Jin, I want you to meet them too, but I want to see how they would take the news of me already living with my boyfriend– they have always been a bit protective of me and I want things to go smoothly so bad...Let me set the ground first. Hm?”

She managed to muster up her best puppy eyes and Jin finally relented and nodded with a sigh. He was in a hurry to put a ring on her finger, so eager in fact that she already had a promise ring occupying her finger.

“When do you plan to go then?”

“Tomorrow?”

Jin smiled and nodded “Just don’t stay away from me long, okay?” 

—------

“Liya! I have cooked your favourites.” 

Her father greeted her on the porch as soon as she arrived.

“Dad I missed you!”

Her father smiled and pulled her in for a hug.

“You have the pigeon feed?” he whispered into her ears without a single muscle faltering.

She hummed, still smiling.

There could be no chance taken. It was Kim Seokjin after all, and underestimating him would be foolishness. The department knew that Kim Seokjin had eyes everywhere and one slip-up could cost them not only all their hard work but also their lives.

“Hurry up, your Mom is setting the table.” he ushered her in as they played the perfect father and daughter for the hidden hawks.

—----

“Here.” (Y/N) handed them a Pendrive. It was the one that contained recordings of his office, some pictures of classified documents and some codes

“Excellent Officer.” her ‘mother’ hummed as she examined the item.

“Now that the pigeons will be feeding, let us have dinner too.” her ‘father’ quipped in– finally at ease now that the documents were in their hands.

—------

(Y/N) had excused herself back to her room. It was cosy yet oddly familiar– detailed to perfection. A typical room that screamed  ‘I spent my teenage years here’. (Y/N) felt exhausted. Not only because she had been putting up a facade for so long but also because the ring on her finger sat heavily– mocking her as it gleamed under the nightlight. But most of all, it was the booming questions in her mind, screaming at her for answers.

She dug into her purse to retrieve a Pendrive. Another Pendrive that held the most crucial information, the deepest vulnerabilities in Kim Jin’s empire, in his security system. The Pendrive contained information that could easily lead to his encounter– no more pieces of evidence required.

She gulped, fiddling with the tiny device. She had always known what she wanted, what she was doing. But not this time.

What was she doing?

Why couldn’t she—why did not she submit the most important Pendrive to her superiors?

It would take them no time to bring Kim Seokjin and his empire of illegal weapons into ashes and yet….

“What’s wrong with me?” she huffed out breathlessly.

Finding no convincing answer, she settled for going to bed. Maybe a bit of rest would do? She had been pretending for so long, acting as the perfect, oblivious little girlfriend to a man so subtly dark, it had taken a toll on her mentally and emotionally.

—----

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip drip drip dripdripdripdripdrip

.

.

.

Gurgrlegurlegurlegurglegurglegurgurgurgle—

“Huh?”

It was disorienting to wake up to the sound of an open tap. Without much thought, she stepped into the bathroom, cringing at the wet sensation. It was tap left open and the basin was overflowing. Turning the tap off, she waited for the water to settle down. 

The drain was blocked.

She did not remember blocking it. She had not even stepped into the bathroom.

She pulled out the lid, unlocking the drain as thoughts began to flood in. It was an in-built instinct within her. She never dismissed anything that even felt remotely off.

And at the moment she felt like something was very, very strange.

The sound of splashing and gurgling of water felt louder than it actually was. The silence was no longer blank, or even remotely cosy. It was instead eerie. 

Something just did not feel right.

Rushing to the closet, she searched for any weapons that they have provided her in the room. She let go of the breath that she had been holding as she felt a gun kept between a bundle of empty boxes. 

Fishing it out, she checked if it was loaded before pocketing the pen drive and slipping out of the room as quietly as possible. It was two o'clock in the morning, and while the silence was expected, this silence felt like holding one’s breath– it was filled with anticipation.

Making her way down the carpeted stair, she remained glued to the wall while her finger wrapped around the trigger. She gulped silently as her foot reached the bottom of the stairs. The door seemed locked, the kitchen was empty—

The backdoor!

Carefully gliding around along the walls, she reached the bedroom near the backdoor. The safety of her colleagues mattered the most to her at the moment. 

Much to her relief, she saw them asleep on the bed. Noislesslyy shutting the door, she made her way to the backdoor. It  appeared perfectly—

No.

It was unlocked. 

One twist of the doorknob gave away the fragility of their safety. Her ears tried to pick up any noise behind or around her while her eyes searched for her other colleagues roaming around in disguise. The house, past the lawn, was supposed to be occupied by her colleagues too. She quickly searched for the torchlight she knew was kept there. Gripping it with a tinge of desperation, she blinked it at the house window.

No response.

She tried again. They were supposed to have their eyes on this house for the whole damn night!

No response.

Feeling the panic beginning to build, she took a deep breath in and out. She had been spying on one of the country's biggest underworld figures, there had been people she had taken care of before.

Everything would be under control.

She tried to soothe herself as she made her way back to the bedroom, leaving the door unlocked. If something went wrong, the backdoor would be their safe exit.

As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, she reached out for them, fingers almost twitching to shoot anyone other than her colleagues.

“Sir, wake up.” she whispered as quietly as possible. Not getting a response, she tapped on his covers “Sir, Ma’am please—”

She felt cold at the sensation of the warmth she was familiar with–--warm and wet. Her throat closed up as she felt around the covers. It was all damp and warm inside but her colleagues were still and cold. 

She yanked her hand out with a shaky gasp, only to be further horrid at the sight of her tainted hands in the darkness of the room— she could see it clearly–even under the street light. 

There was a faint noise of something shifting that had her pointing her gun at the darkest corner of the room. Her heart thumped in fear and anticipation as she pointed her gun at the darkness.

It was at that moment when her anticipation came to a  heavy halt— Jin stepped out of the dark corner, taking up the space near the window instead. The streetlight and moon rays falling on his form gave him an eerie illumination.

“Why wait now?… Here I am. Pull the trigger.” 

His inaction was far more chilling than his acts of violence. He was just standing still– and nonchalant and yet, the darkness in his eyes was far deeper than the dark corner he emerged from.

“Is it not what you were sent for, after all?” he drawled, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Now you even have a reason.” 

his eyes flickered to the bed momentarily before settling back on her as he tilted his head slightly

 “What’s the matter Officer (Y/N)(L/N), pull the trigger.” the amusement was clear in his tone.

She would not pull the trigger, even if it was the right thing to do, she would never do that. 

And Kim Seokjin had realised it before her. 

She hid away the pen drive, her hands shook as she pointed her gun at him and her fingers froze at the mere thought of shooting him. 

She shook her head, trying to push back her tears as the realisation began to dawn upon her, like a nightmare merging into reality.

“E-even if I tell you why, you would not believe me.” she breathed out.

It was pathetic. How would he believe her if she told him that she had just realised that she was in love with him? For real.

Why would he believe that even?

The corner of Jin’s lips lifted up slightly at her words.

“Oh Jagi, I know you inside out…” he trailed away as he sauntered towards her.

His movements reminded her of the first time she had met him. Two years ago.

Today was the day– the day they first met.

She stepped back, half in shock, half in caution, her hands lowered far before she had realised.

“Why did you keep the other pen drive to yourself? You had two of them.” 

He knew, he always knew.

“How long?”

Jin’s lips tugged up with smugness.

“The moment our eyes met I knew that you did not belong there.”

She took in a sharp breath.

“Assuming that I had never known of you– confidence.” he continued to take predatory steps towards her. 

She truly felt like a cornered prey– so small and helpless. His towering form seemed to have engulfed the whole room- and he, her whole existence. She flinched internally when her back touched the wall. 

“But assuming that my sources would never know about you– overconfidence.” he smiled as he reached her. The kind of smile that made her feel cold

There was no way out.

“If you plan to kill me, just get over with it now.” the words felt foreign on her tongue, but she meant them.

“Oh Jagi…” he drawled as if sharpening his sword “ I only intend to teach you a sweet, sweet lesson…I do love you after all.” she forced down a whimper as he leaned closer to her, his lips touching her earlobes

 “After all, you love me too, and you shall scream that to the world tonight”

****

Min Yoongi was many things.

He was subtle, he was lowkey, and yet he was powerful, he bathed in money and influence and guess what– he was a well-known face on the top magazines, billboards and newspapers.

He was one of the leading industrialists after all.

To the world.

Behind closed doors ran the chaos and spills of the underworld– white power, red ink and sharp edges.

Min Yoongi was many things, but he was not always very patient– especially during crucial interrogations. His business was vast and deep. And to run such a vast business empire– one he had built himself, he needed money– a flood of it.

 People looked up to him as an inspirational figure– the ideal rags-to-riches man. But to build such an empire by the age of thirty-two, one needed something extra, and Yoongi had nothing– nothing other than a hawk’s eyes and a razor mind. So he used them instead and created a whole ring of underground business. The profit in the market required heavy investments and it came not only from big investors, it was pumped from the underground.

Who would suspect that the man making gaping charities, arranging free scholarships and educating millions of children would be the one running a whole underground business?

The police, who else?

It was an open secret among the top officers. They knew what went on behind closed doors and dark basements in his posh offices and luxurious hotels. Too bad, Min Yoongi was always ten steps ahead.

It had turned into a cat-and-mouse game, they would hunt for evidence, a loophole and Yoongi would hunt for the one digging those holes.

The man’s head was pulled out of the cold water. He coughed and wheezed, struggling to breathe through the remaining water dripping down along with blood.

Yoongi sighed. Twenty minutes– twenty fucking minutes and no information regarding the infiltrator. Though it was no new thing, it was a matter of increasing concern because he had not been able to get hold of the mouse yet. 

The man being interrogated was one too, but Yoongi knew that he was not the spy he should be concerned with.

“Here’s how this is going to be young man…” he began with a cigarette clasped between his lips. He paused briefly to light it up. “You tell me who has been collecting information about my organisation and I give you an easy death.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicked up, finding the dilated pupils of the man, blood and saliva running down his busted lips. He spat out two of his bloody teeth into the water and coughed. He gasped again as one of Yoongi’s men took hold of his hair, ready to dunk his head into the murky water again.

Yoongi rose his palm this time, halting his men’s actions. Pulling the cigarette away, he blew out smoke into the air, momentarily blurring his face “Let me rephrase it..If you do not reveal your partner, I will make sure that you continue to breathe.”

 Nearing him, Yoongi leaned closer, whispering in his ear 

“Besides, your sister would make up for the loss of our money for our clients. Now, that would be perfect, don’t you think?”

Yoongi smirked as the man clenched his jaw and shuddered. He gripped his shoulder and squeezed the bruise hard, making the man scream.

“Think about it, hero– your charity might cost you your sister’s life. She just entered college, didn’t she? Tsk tch tch, she must have so many dreams…” he threatened with a voice dripping with mock concern while his eyes held a promise of acting through his words.

The man shut his eyes, gritting his teeth before looking dead into Yoongi’s eyes

“Raven”

Was all he said before pushing out a tiny bottle from his tied hands, it had been there between his palms. It happened within the span of seconds, one moment the man was there, and the next, he shoved the bottle in his mouth before dropping dead.

Cyanide.

“Where were your eyes?” Yoongi gritted out as he looked at his men with fury “Where.the.fuck were you looking when he had this in his fucking palms?”

His men trembled but said nothing, only hanging their heads in shame. Min Yoongi with raised voice was a threat, but he with a cold, low voice with gritting teeth was a warning that barely stood between one’s life and his gun.

Surely, the police officer's body was not the only one which would be laying there.

But to their utter surprise, their boss’ fingers, instead of going for his gun, went to his head, running through his long hair.

He took a few puffs from his cigarette before dropping it on the wet floor and viciously crushing it with his heavy shoes.

He sighed, closing his eyes, the thin cut running through his face could be seen in its complete glory with his eyes closed– it began from his forehead and sliced straight through his left eyebrow, and eyelid, ending on his upper cheek, parallel to his nose. It was faded but only added to the grim aura he carried.

“Find out who is Raven. And don’t be lousy fucky this time.”

That was all he said before marching out of the place.

Min Yoongi was many things but he was not a man to step back from his words, even if it was something he had promised himself.

No blood on his hands on her birthday. 

—---

The front light of the shop flickered before dimming considerably while Yoongi’s car pulled up in front of the flower shop. It was decent, but in Yoongi’s mind, needed a ton of renovation. It was already past midnight and his only regret was that he could not be there to wish her on the strike of twelve.

The door sign showed ‘closed’ but he rang the bell anyway, his heart thumping on hearing the muffled sound of her ascending the stairs.

His lips curved into a smile as soon as the door opened.

“You came? I thought you were busy.”

“And I thought I told you to wait for me at my place. Yet I find you here, sleeping with just a single lock at the main door.” he commented as he walked inside. 

The flower shop was on the ground floor, and the floor above was where she lived. It would seem odd, special in a way– a business tycoon and a florist. But it would turn bizarre at the revelation of his true identity. A man marred with the underground murk and a sweet florist, oblivious to the monster she was letting in almost every night at her home.

“I baked some cookies.”

“Mhm? I got you some fried chicken with cheese and beer.” her eyes lit up at that and she smiled, raining heavens on his heart.

“Oh, Yoongi, you always know what I want!”

 Her voice dripped with delight as she made her way upstairs, while he locked the door, making eye contact with his men stationed just opposite the flower shop, under the guise of some construction workers.

He sighed in delight as her delicate floral fragrance engulfed him while he followed her upstairs.

“Wait for me in the bedroom, I will bring the food. And–what is this? A cake? You even brought me a cake? Oh Yoongi, you did not need to.”

He shook his head and smiled, taking her hands into his.

 “But I wanted to.” 

His hand slid to her lower back and the other hand guided her hand to his shoulder as they began to slow dance in the kitchen, the food long forgotten at the kitchen counter. 

Fishing out his phone, he clicked to play a retro romantic track– slow, lovely and oh-so poetic. He smiled at her, stealing a fleeting kiss on her forehead as they continued to move, like a slow-burning flame that would ignite one’s soul.

“Happy Birthday my love.” he whispered ever so tenderly as she looked up with glistening eyes. 

She tucked her head on his chest, relishing the moment in silence.

—---- 

One of the best leisure activities had to be sitting on the bed and enjoying one’s favourite meal along with one’s favourite person, Yoongi realised that while placing another piece of fried chicken on her plate. She smiled at him, a smudge of ketchup on her lower lip and it made her all the more adorable to her. All he wanted was to protect her, love her and be loved by her.

He scrunched his nose lightly while wiping the ketchup with his thumb while she munched on the chicken with stuffed cheeks.

Min Yoongi was in love with her, he knew it, she knew it too and he hoped that she would trust him too, enough to believe in his love through thick and thin.

“Gina…” he began as he took her hands in his, not minding the crumbles and oil “Do you trust me?”

She blinked “Yoongi, where is this coming from?”

“Just tell me, do you trust me to never hurt you? To love and protect you with my life?”

She frowned before nodding, but that was not enough for him.

“I need words Gina, do you trust me, love?”

“Yes Yoongi…” her voice shook but there was a crack of uncertainty. 

He would admit that it did hurt him, but he also knew that this was nothing beyond normal human behaviour– blind trust was a luxury and he would taste that luxury soon, he only had to be patient. He knew that her trust would falter with his next words, but he needed to do what was required.

Taking a deep breath, he grasped her hands firmer “Gina…I love you, and I did not wish to lose you…so I hid something from you, but now I must come clean for the sake of our love.” licking his lips, he continued “Gina, you know me as the world does, a philanthropist business tycoon, one with multiple companies under his banner, international projects, the rags-to-riches guy and what not…But the truth is beyond that, darker than that.”

Her frown deepened at that “What do you mean?” 

Yoongi sighed and continued “I have an underworld business, Gina, I have my hands dipped in everything murky you can possibly imagine.”

He felt her stiffening at his words and as she attempted to pull away from his hold, his fear began to take the shape of reality. With each attempt to pull her hands away, his hold coiled tighter like a hungry snake. His jaws ticked at her futile attempts

“You promised to trust me, didn’t you?” his hand crept to her forearm 

“Y-Yoongi…”

“I love you, I love you so much Gina, don’t try to take that away from me.” hissed, turning desperate “I love you too much to let you go. I have everything prepared for you love, you will love the mansion, it has a vast garden and even a patch of woods, there are flowers, beautiful flowers, and the room I have prepared for you is your dream room, Love. We shall move to our room soon after the wedding.”

“Wedding?” she whispered out incredulously as if it were the most bizarre thing to hear from him. 

“Of course Jagi, are we not going to marry soon? I love you Gina and I thought this would be a perfect time to come out clean. I want to keep you safe love, pack up hmm? I have had the mansion all readied.”

“No” she whispered, making Yoongi pause

“No?”

He scowled, tightening his hold to a painful extent before jerking her closer to him, ignoring the whimper his actions and eyes had elicited.

“What do you mean by No?” he snarled before closing his eyes and looking away– his tongue pushed against the inner wall of his cheek to show his thinning patience as he remained unfazed by her struggle to slip away from his bruising hold. “Gina…I told you that I love you, didn’t I? I came clean to you like a good lover. Isn’t it your turn to show appreciation and fucking listen to me? You are so fucking unsafe here I cannot protect—”

He was cut off by the sound of a click that tore through the otherwise heavy silence like an arrow in a dead forest

He looked at her, hold loosening before she mouthed--

RUN!

But there was no time for that other than reaching for his gun strapped on his shin but the moment his fingers touched the gun, he felt the piecing of a bullet. Chaos ensued as a figure in black jumped down from the attic, opening the foldable ladder that dropped from the ceiling, and reaching the bed.

Yoongi felt hands forcing him down before he elbowed the assaulter. His palm was already suffering a bullet wound but his eyes never left her– his Gina, or that was the name she had used. She shook her head, tears now streaming down in full force. 

“Min Yoong, you are under arrest!”

How were there so many men in the room? Boots rang across the floor as many men in uniform stormed the room, forcing him down further. But his eyes remained on the woman sitting in front of him, nursing her bruising wrist yet looking down at him with the sorrow only a true lover could.

Her eyes widened as he smiled at her– a genuine smile that came from the realisation that she did warn him to run, that she had pain in her eyes. 

“What’s your name?” he whispered softly making her her eyes widen. “Your name…”

“Oi! You are under arrest for being involved in illegal business, you just confessed that!” 

One of the officers spat out as he snatched away the necklace she wore roughly, making her wince and Yoongi's jaws tick.

 “We have it all recorded you scum!”

 He waved it in front of him before landing a heavy punch, making Yoongi’s head whip to the side, a bruise already forming while blood trickled down the corner of his lips.

But he did not care, finding her frightened eyes once more as her hand jerked to reach him, only to be stopped midway by the officer “What’s your name?” he asked again

 “Get her out of here.” the senior officer barked before the subordinate approached, his actions and tone much gentler than his superior as he helped her get up from the bed.

But before went out, she turned to him one last time, eyes filled with emotions, while Yoongi focused on pushing his heel against the sole of his shoe– one press of the sensor and his team would be ready. He smiled at her as she disappeared from his sight.

Soon, Love…Very Soon.

—-----

The journey to the police station involved being shoved into a heavily guarded van with too many armed men.

Twenty men for one person? Even with a bullet wound?

He liked the fear. 

His eyes met with one of the amateur officers, young, naive and so fucking idealistic perhaps– a version of his in his early teens. Yoongi smirked as he watched him gulp subtly.

Good.

As soon as they reached the police station at an ungodly hour, he was shoved into an overly guarded prison, the captain watched him from outside as one would while inspecting a feral animal.

The middle-aged man held his gaze as Yoongi made himself comfortable behind the bars, sitting on the bed near the wall, his form faintly visible in the darkness.

The captain held his phone to his ear before speaking up, breaking the tense silence that felt like a bated breath

 “Mission Raven Completed,” 

He whispered out, his eyes holding Yoongi’s gaze in mockery as he cut the call and slipped his phone into his pocket

“Your game is over Min Yoongi.” 

Yoongi sat still, his feline eyes shining with amusement under the minimal light reaching his prison.

“What? Aren’t you scared? The whole world will come to know your true face in a few hours!” he snarled at him.

Yoongi knew that he had made many, many enemies along his climb to the top of the underworld rings. And this captain seemed to take things a bit too personally. But what did he know of the ‘games’ he played?

“ Captain Jiwok…” he watched in satisfaction as the smirk was wiped out from the man’s face “My game has just begun.”

Before the man could speak any further, a deafening boom shook the whole building as rubble began to fall,  he watched the building burst into bedlam, throwing his back into laughter while his eyes twinkled in delight.

****

A sunny day, the bright colours of the summer and the gentle breeze playing with the new, tender leaves and the playful petals of brightest and softest blooms. 

It would make anyone smile. But not the mistress of the Jung Estate–(L/N)(Y/N), who could only resentfully look on as the servants, maids, dogs, cats, butterflies and even insects enjoyed their freedom of embracing the outside world– all but her.

The sprawling estate encompassed a vast garden with water channels running around in symbols, hosting a range of koi fish, one more stunning than the other and a number of servant quarters that housed the staff. 

The place would look idyllic to anyone who would first set their eyes on it. But underneath the beautiful estate, laid metal doors, bloody walls and unending, dark body chutes. One might find that shocking, but not (Y/N) – to her, the Jung Estate was an extension of the master of the property– Jung Hoseok– an angel’s face and a devil’s soul. But (Y/N) doubted that he had any soul at all.

Taking her eyes off the garden, she focused on the elaborate lunch spread out for her. At least she had a choice of food, she thought with contempt as the maid served her more rice.

“Would you like dessert after lunch Ma’am?” Lia, her personal maid enquired.

“No thank you.”

“They’re all your favourite Madame.” she pressed ever so gently.

Sighing, (Y/N) nodded. Dessert might do her soured mood some good.

“I will bring them right after you are finished, Madame.” Lia beamed

(Y/N)’s lips tugged up subtly with an amused smile as she continued to eat her lunch. Hoseok, her husband always told her how much he loved her smile. And yet, he had turned the reason behind its decline. 

Jung Hoseok was probably the most feared man in the country and she had made the foolish mistake of walking right into the lion’s den one sorry evening.

—-----

“Madame, sweet buns along with mini butter croissants.” 

(Y/N) had smelled the delicious aroma before the oven-fresh delicacies came within her sight. After all, something to truly smile about, without making her cheeks ache. 

“You should have your lunch, Lia.” she offered softly, aching to be left alone, truly alone, without his people following her like some…fucking guard dogs!

Lia, the dedicated girl was obviously not at fault– she was just doing what she was paid so heftily for– taking care of the mistress of the Jung Estate.

The Mistress of Jung Estate…Ironical, really, when she could not even step out of the iron castle without his consent. And if he were to go out of the city, even the garden was out of her reach. Even his pet had more freedom than her. 

And yet…

And yet he would claim to love her the most, adore her more than anything and appreciate even the most mundane thing she would do.

Huffing as such thoughts crossed her path, she violently tore the delicate croissant into two before—

Croissants were not supposed to make any tearing sounds! Or were they?

This time, she looked closer, only to two torn pieces of the same paper peeking out of the halves of the delicacy. (Y/N) frowned as she pulled the pieces of paper out before joining them. Only to part her lips in surprise at the sight of the message written there.

A phone number!

She crumpled the pieces of paper, hiding them away in her fist before carefully peeling apart another croissant– the same number!

This had to mean something, this could not be a coincidence.

Her stomach flipped as she gulped an uncomfortable lump in her throat. 

What is this?

The question rang louder than all other thoughts in her head as she delicately folded the paper and walked up to the closet before hiding the paper in one of her shoes.

Thankfully, there were only two such croissants and the rest had only warmth and aroma stuffed inside them, so were the sweet buns, simple and delicious. The incident felt more like a dream but (Y/N) knew that it was not.

—--

“Who prepared the dessert today?” (Y/N) prayed that she sounded absolutely nonchalant as she fiddled with her food, pretending to mix the sauce with the rice.

Sitting on the terrace, she could have a wide view of the spread-out property– all lit up and quiet, except for nature’s sounds.

“Oh, did you not like it Ma’am?” it was the butler serving her this time– breakfasts and dinners were his responsibility and she had no clue why this was a rigid routine.

“No, it was delicious, that’s why I asked…”

“I am glad Madame, Lia herself prepared the dessert.”

(Y/N) kept her eyes down, afraid that her eyes would give away the surprise. Somehow, she managed a mundane “Oh, I see.” but all she did was restrain herself from frowning.

She did not even remember when she fell asleep, in his absence, sleep seemed to come easy and deep. But this time, somehow she woke up with a start in the middle of the night. It was quiet but tense and while she was alert as soon as she woke up without the usual grogginess she would feel, the goosebumps all over her skin told her that something was just not right.

Squinting her eyes, she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness when she spotted–

“Lia?” she hissed, annoyed that the girl was there inside her bedroom and had given her a nightmare-worthy scare.

“Lia, is that you?” she felt her parched throat before recognising her rising fear— what if it was not Lia but one of Hoseok’s rivals? What if the person wanted to hurt her? The silhouette matched that of her personal maid but she had not seen the person’s face yet and—

To her slight relief, Lia revealed herself as she stepped near the bed “Madame, you are awake at this time?”

What kind of question was that?

“What are you doing in my room at two in the morning?”

Lia only smiled at her counter-question, but there was something condescending about it.

“Don’t you feel better? More refreshed than mornings?”

“Wh-what? What kind of question—”

“I assume you’ve got the number and are smart enough to hide it in a safe place?” she cut her off,

(Y/N) gulped, feeling increasingly uneasy with the situation. She was alone, vulnerable in her room with her supposedly personal maid who seemed…just off.

Lia sighed and tilted her head “Don’t worry, I'm not here to hurt you. In fact, I can help you.”

“Help me?” she could feel her voice crumble at her words.

Help her as in helping her get out of the place? But who would dare to?

“No, woman, I am not a rival’s spy or something if you are worried about that. I work for the government.”

(Y/N) gasped quietly at that. Why would the government of the nation take the pains of infiltrating Hoseok’s home to rescue a simple girl? She gulped again, feeling her mouth grow increasingly dry.

“Don’t,” Lia’s voice was quiet but strong, halting (Y/N)’s movement immediately as she reached out for the water bottle placed on the nightstand.

“I was just feeling thirsty?” she could not help but feel fear beginning to grip her in the face of the uncertain situation.

“You can drink that once we’re finished with the conversation woman. You drink that right now, you will fall asleep again.”

“What?” (Y/N) frowned while Lia rolled her eyes with a slow shake of her head 

“You are such a naive girl, no wonder you are still stuck here.” 

 She sighed before explaining

 “Don’t you feel weird? It is only the butler who serves you breakfast and dinner, prepared by him in the boss’ absence? Don’t you wonder why you feel so sleepy, even after breakfast? You sleep until noon and yet feel tired after dinner”

“So…” (Y/N) gulped, feeling her stomach beginning to flip “So, y-you are saying that the food, the water is compromised?”

“‘Compromised’? Don’t soften this up now, you know what it is, just acknowledge it.”

“He–he won’t–I mean he couldn’t have—”

Lia smiled again, the same condescending smile that rubbed the ugly fact on her face and made her stomach churn.

“You are saying that—that the food and water I consume are…drugged?”

She knew that Hoseok’s ‘love’ was toxic, but this was straight out of some nightmare-inducing psychological thriller. She let out a shuddering breath as the horrible realisation dawned upon her. It was sick, absolutely sick. 

“You see, morning and night are the only times when guards change shifts and take breaks, he could not take any chances. You are after all his most treasured possession.”

She drawled, and her words slapped the bleak reality of her marriage right on her face. Was it even a marriage? She felt like a prisoner before, now she was reduced to a precious little pet.

Weren’t you always his fucking pet?

Her subconscious mocked her as she felt tears beginning to gather.

“It took me a while to figure out what was he giving you, but today I managed to slip an antidote in your dinner. How does it feel to wake up refreshed?”

When she did not answer, Lia threw something beside her, making her flinch 

“In case you realise how deep you are in. All you need is to call.”

(Y/N)’s eyes remind of the buttoned cell phone, she did not even hear Lia leaving– she left as quietly as she came.

But she left behind a storm brewing in (Y/N)’s mind.

—-------

Despite knowing the consequences, (Y/N) tucked the phone away in some safe corner and drank the water, she was absolutely parched. Everything was too much to take. She knew that Hoseok was no saint, but this made her sick to her stomach. She feared Hoseok but now…now she was terrified of him.

The sky rumbled before her eyes found the window gigantic window of the place– big droplets of rain had begun to dot the glass. From that height, the sky seemed nearer, yet all the more distant– it was just a better, clearer sight, especially when one could leisurely watch the thunderstorm up close– clouds flashing, clashing and the skies illuminating with blinding cracks.

No one seemed to notice, or care, but her. It felt like it was only her– just like her four years old relationship– it was only her there. She was the one making the effort, she was always the one apologising, she was the one making her plans, her schedule flexible, initiating dates and she was the only fucking person in a relationship involving two.

And it took her a whole bad fight and a slap on the face to realise that. It was the worst fight the two had, and also perhaps the third major one in a span of four fucking years– so used to ‘sweeping things under the rug’ and ‘keeping the peace’, she had was, for once glad to let it all out– the bottled disappointments, suppressed anger, resentment, frustration hurt, envy, jealousy– every ugly emotion one could come up with when they had to carry the weight of a dying relationship and when she was spitting the facts on his face, he retorted with a slap that shook everything– the relationship, her perspective, her beliefs— everything shuddered and began to crumble with nothing. 

Noted, she had pulled his parents’ failed marriage in a fit of rage but reacting with violence? Was it ever okay?

Thankfully, she knew the answer. She did not even remember how she simply picked up her phone and wallet in dead silence after he stormed out of the house in tears. She had her vision blurred with unshed tears as well, but she did not let them escape her eyes, at least not until she drove back to her apartment. She had seen her first-ever serious relationship crumbling into nothing and she had no clue how to deal with that.

After days of crying herself to sleep and being on autopilot, her friends decided to intervene and drag her away to the fancy event. She had blocked him from everywhere but she was not sure if he even tried to contact her. Even in the glittering and gilded place, she could not stop thinking about him and the relationship she had dragged on for such a long time, but not romantically. She could not bring herself to do that after what had transpired that evening.

“Ma’am, a drink for you.” 

(Y/N) frowned as the bartender slid a fancy-looking shimmery drink in front of her. While her friends were busy chitchatting and flirting with people they knew, she had excused herself to the quieter part of the gigantic hall, a bar. But she had not ordered anything yet.

“But I did not order anything.”

“The gentleman bought you this.”

Not all drinks were free and the drink definitely looked like it had soaked up a fortune. Her eyes followed the bartender’s gaze and found a man she had never seen before leaning against the other end of the long island.

He looked sleek and mysterious and every last thing she wanted at the moment. While he smoked and raised an eyebrow, she smiled apologetically before shaking her head before getting off the barstool and making her way back to her friends.

She did not know what she needed at the moment, but she did know what she did not need.

As the event dragged on (Y/N) had begun to feel more uninterested. Maybe such high-class parties were more suited for her millionaire friend who had thrust the invitation card in her face. (Y/N) knew that all she wanted was to make her feel better but the event was quickly turning her eyes droopy. 

Bidding her friend goodbye with an excuse, she sighed in relief the moment she walked out of the hall, as the door closed, she was greeted with a silent hallway leading to the exit of the building.

“Hello there” the voice made her jump as she turned around, only to find the same man just a foot behind her.

“Oh, didn’t see you there.” she mustered up an easy smile as her feet remained in the direction of the exit.

The man hummed and assessed her with a ghost of a smile on his face, the tilt of his head had a few strands falling on his exposed forehead. He was an attractive man, no doubt, but she was just not interested. He seemed well above twenty-five, even past thirty perhaps.

“Did you not like the drink, Pretty?” she cringed internally at the nickname.

“I am in a hurry actually, thank you for the drink by the way.”

His lips tilted into an amused smile “Let me have the honours to drop you home, pretty.”

“I have my car.”

She had come with her friends and she had no car, but a cab would always be nearby in a posh locality.

“Oh yeah? Let me walk you to your car then.”

She tried to rack her brain for some excuse but the glint in his eyes confirmed her fears, he knew that she had no vehicle to return home and he was taking advantage of her situation. Even if he only intended to flirt, he was making her easy. 

“There you are!” the loud and buoyant voice startled her.

`

The man cornering her turned around, giving her a view of another man approaching them.

“And there I was, searching for you in that hall!” the new man beamed with a blinding smile before turning to him “Hi Juk, you’re here too.”

“Mr Jung, I did not that she is—”

“She came with me.” he declared, finding her gaze briefly before flickering back to…Juk– or whatever his name was.

She understood what he was trying to do and played along. 

“I was searching for you too!” even if her voice showed her relief, she did not care anymore.

Oddly, she felt less threatened in the smiling stranger’s presence. Juk came up with an excuse before walking back into the hall, leaving them alone. His gentle gaze fixed on her before his smile turned soft.

“Are you okay?”

“Eh yes, yes, thank you—I should get going now.” she bowed to show him her gratitude as he shook his head.

“Ah, it’s nothing, sometimes people here get pretty intense. I’m used to this.” he explained before realisation flashed in his eyes “I never saw you here before?”

“Yes, I came here with my friend.” 

“And you are leaving alone?”

“Yes, I was bored.” she slapped her hand over her lips immediately as the realisation dawned upon her. But it was too late.

Now what if he was the host?

“N-No I mean–I’m sorry—.” she was immediately in damage control mode, but he only waved his hand, laughing.

“No, no, I appreciate your honesty…I’m Hoseok by the way. Jung Hoseok.” he offered her his hand for a shake.

“(L/N)(Y/N).” she shook it with a smile.

—-----

When she opened her groggy eyes again, the room was illuminated with the sunshine filtering through the curtains fluttering. She rubbed her eyes as they began to close again.

Wait, she would never leave her window open at night?

“Good afternoon, Love!” 

Her actions paused as she rose from her bed, pushing away the comforter, only to find Hoseok standing in front of her, dressed in his casual olive t-shirt and sweats. Her eyes widened in surprise, the conversation with Lia floating back in her mind.

But he did not give her much time to think, instead, he got on the bed and pulled her for a searing kiss, never minding her morning breath or her stiffness.

“I missed you so much Jagi!” there it was, the deceiving smile that had blinded her to all the bright red flags once.

His arms engulfed her, pulling her towards his chest as he hummed in delight “You were sleeping when I returned, so I made breakfast for you myself.”

Schooling her expression and keeping her voice steady, she hugged him back “Thank you Hoseok.”

“Oh, no need to thank me, Love. I have been gone for a while, haven’t I? It must have been hard for you.” his voice dipped to a tone of regret before he pulled away and cupped her face “Being locked in here all by yourself. But you know it's for your safety, don’t you?”

Gulping, she dropped her gaze and nodded. He smiled in return before kissing her once more. “There, there, nothing to worry about anymore. You can even go to the garden unattended! But why bother about a garden when we have a whole vacation planned?”

Surprised, she looked up, earning a coo from him as he placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“Like, out of this place? This city?”

Hoseok nodded “Now, freshen up, I will serve you some breakfast. Okay?” 

 With a nod and a small smile, she made her way towards the bathroom, feeling increasingly uneasy in his presence. As soon as she was out of the bathroom, she was relieved to find no trace of her husband in the room. The bed was freshly made and crisp, everything seemed right in place, speckless. 

A vacation…

Lia’s words never left her mind, not even for a moment since she woke up. Did she want out?

Yes. Of course, she did. And she knew that deep down, Hoseok knew that too— she never asked to be here. That was why she was not even allowed to step out of the mansion in his absence.

But the real question was…

Was she safe?

She pondered as she held the phone in her grip.

****

She cursed herself as the thick rain pounded on her back while she jogged her way back home. Had she brought an umbrella, she could have avoided this situation. She hated getting wet in the rain. She hated such stormy evenings overall.

“Shit!”

She cursed out loud as she stumbled before slipping down on the ground, her one leg folding painfully in the process. Gasping out in pain and shock, she tried to steady herself.

Breathe (Y/N), keep calm, you are almost home, you can have a good sleep and—no, not a peaceful sleep maybe but you will be taken care of.

Nodding to herself, she rose from the ground and continued her way home with a limping foot while the sky rumbled unpleasantly over her. She should have slowed down before.

Her apartment was quiet when she entered it. Closing the door with a huff, she took off her now-soaked shoes but gasped when she rose after putting them away. 

There was someone in the apartment with her!

She cursed herself before hastily switching the lights on, only to fall into a fused state of relief and annoyance.

“Namjoon!” she hissed “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? And why were you just standing there like a creep?”

Namjoon chortled and folded his arms over his chest “Why? Did I scare you little bird?”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) shook her head “I’m not a little bird Joon.”

“Oh Little bird, you are dripping.” he cooed as he made his way towards her.

If there was someone who could simultaneously get on her nerves and warm her heart, it would be Kim Namjoon, her boyfriend of six months. 

And she wondered often how come he was a college professor. At the rate he lost and broke things while managing to look like the most innocent soul with round eyes and full cheeks and–no wait, he was annoying at the moment!

“There, there.” he gently patted her with a towel and yet had the audacity to tease her in between “You look like a dunked kitten by the way.”

She simply sighed. There was no stopping him, she had realised that within a month into the relationship. He was like a child sometimes, really.

“Move, I have to get changed.” Pushing her laughing boyfriend away, she made her way to the bathroom.

“Hey kitten, I have turned on the heating, be careful not to burn yourself!” He called out from behind as she slammed the bathroom door shut.

(Y/N) had met Namjoon in the most cliché place possible– a coffee shop. One moment he was passing by her seat and the next, he was tripping on plain ground and the entire content of his ‘extra-large’ cold coffee was all over her.

Before she could even turn around with smoke leaving her ears, he was on his knees apologising profusely with repeated bows, so much that he had hit his forehead twice on the table in the frenzy and his ID was on the ground, taking a dip at the spilled, frothy cold coffee.

The rest? Looking at them, anyone could have guessed the rest. 

It was hard to believe that a man this clumsy was teaching at a reputed college. She often wondered ‘How did he survive this far?’, especially when he tried helping her in the kitchen.

He was banned from the kitchen for a reason.

When she entered the living room, Namjoon was busy cleaning the muddy footprints near the apartment entrance.

“I ordered us some chicken ramen with some snacks and beer.” Namjoon perked up as soon as he saw her enter the room

“Finally, something good to look forward to!” she beamed

“Oh, was work not good?” His smile faded with a frown of concern replacing it.

(Y/N) smiled and shook her head dismissively "Nothing, just the usual running around. We have some sillies coming in with bizarre complaints” she scoffed

“So, where else people would go if not the police?”

“Joon, there were claims of alien sightings.” She huffed, rolling her eyes as she plopped on the couch “Thanks for cleaning up though. I am so tired.” (Y/N) could not stop the wince when she tried to stretch her legs. 

People might consider that once someone joined the police force, they attain immunity against injuries and pain– the fact was, she and officers like her, were only human.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, I just slipped while jogging back home.”

“(Y/N), how many times have I asked you to not rush? It's even more dangerous during the rainy season!”

He was immediately by her side, bunching the loose gown she wore to her mid-thigh. He winced at the sight of the bruised shin and knee.

“Look what you have done to yourself now.” Namjoon chided as he gently ran his fingers through the darkening bruises.

“I’m a police officer Joon.” she scoffed, attempting to pull away, but he would have none of that 

“So? You are still human. Moreover, it has barely been a year since you joined.”

“A year Joon, a year has 365 days.”

Namjoon simply smiled and for the first time, the warmth was missing “Oh, little bird…I bet you’ve seen nothing. The world now rivals hell.” he leaned closer and placed a peck on her knee “So, be careful what you fly into.”

Although his eyes held a playful glint, they darkened under the light, ironically, they seemed to swallow the light falling on them, not reflect. It felt like she was starring at the eyes of a stranger, a man she had never seen before and—

Ring! Ring-ring!

The doorbell rang, shoving her out of the trance as she flinched– eyes darting towards the unanswered door, the smart LED mounted on the wall– anywhere but him.

Namjoon rose and walked up to the door in silence. Looking through the peephole, he unlocked the door and opened it, while she rushed to cover her legs and look decent.

It was their dinner. 

“Dinner’s here!” he turned to her with the paper bag dangling from his hold as soon as he shut the door. 

His smile was warm, the one she knew– it was her Namjoon. 

“Don’t worry, I will set it up. Why don’t you play the sitcom we were watching last time, hmm?”

She smiled as he walked towards the kitchenette. It was so usual of him– he was Namjoon, her boyfriend. Why did it feel different then?

Shaking her head, she moved to switch on the TV– she was just tired.

—-----

There was a thing about being in the police force. One came under numerous circumstances, met numerous people and remembered most of them. It was a part of the training, or maybe the experience she had over a year of joining the Police. 

The spies, the police, and the military had somewhat of a peculiar kind of instinct– in fact, they were trained to follow their instinct, trained to not hold the gaze for too long without the necessity and to never stare at the back of the head of the people they were supposed to keep an eye on.

The training, perhaps made the observation and the intuition stronger– like their subconscious would note things before their conscious mind realised.

Even after days after Namjoon’s visit, (Y/N) could not forget the moment– the brief, dreamlike moment that, even for a part of a second did make her see her boyfriend under a different light. Even if it was just for a moment, the Namjoon she knew seemed to have turned into…someone else- someone who made her…uneasy.

So, aside from the cases she already was handling along with being a part of a confidential project, she took it upon herself to research more on Namjoon– her boyfriend. He had told her that he had discarded his 'original' surname, he was just Namjoon– even his ID showed that– ‘Namjoon’. But he had been making official changes for adding 'Kim'

And that made it all the more difficult for her to dig more about him. It had not bothered her before. In fact, she had not even bothered to dig up about him, she never felt like he was hiding something or even remotely pretending. He was an unsuspecting College professor– a clumsy, endearing gentle giant who loved bonsai, flowers and everything small and cute.

Until that one night.

It is just to ease my tension. Just to ease my suspicion, it's nothing probably.

She kept telling herself as she searched through digital file after digital file without a trace of anything familiar. At one point, she even thought, why bother anyway? It might just have been the light doing its trick, or maybe her tired brain making up things.

But there was something that distinguished a person in uniform from an ordinary civilian– their reliance on their gut feeling. Even if people might find it strange, the police relied heavily on their gut feeling.

So if her gut feeling sensed something, she was trained to go with it– no matter who or what. She might be an amateur, not a speedy learner like her colleagues but she knew her job and she knew was, at the end of the day, a police officer.

—----

“The police in Busan have discovered a shipment... cocaine.”

There was an emergency meeting held as soon as the station’s in-charge received an e-mail.

“But they are suspecting that it is not the whole shipment.”

“Sir, what is the amount?” (Y/N)’s colleague Han raised the much-awaited question

Their superior’s eyes turned grim as he sighed.

This did not seem good

“48 kilograms.”

The room fell into a tense silence.

“And how do we know that it is not the whole shipment? 48kgs of cocaine is no joke.” (Y/N) spoke up this time.

“Yes, (Y/N), but the shipment was most probably for Gangnam. I had some people working for the police keeping an eye out. Those people are cunning– they evaded the Busan police– I had spoken with the station’s in-charge there and got to know that only the shipment was discovered, not the dealers.”

 He switched on the projector and the screen showed a map of major cities in the country but there were places marked. 

“You see these places? These are the places we have foiled major shipments in the past year.” He pointed at the flagged locations “But there is a worrying pattern here. These are the areas where most hotels, resorts, and other tourist destinations are. And before last year, neither these places nor such a jump in the number of drugs was detected…You know what this means, right?”

“There is a new snake in the town?” (Y/N) guessed.

Their senior nodded “Yes, most probably– you see, this person is experienced, cunning. They know what happens in the streets, they know how things work and yet we get are able to sack the major shipments, but not a single dealer…It seems deliberate.”

“Deliberate? Those cost billions Sir,” Han was right, but so was her boss.

“Hmm, but we have no idea how vast this empire is, do we? It is the underground we’re speaking of, Han, these people are powerful dangerous, cruel and cunning. You never take them as fools. That might be your last mistake.”

Han nodded at his words before he continued -

“For now, we need to increase the patrol. Patrol officers here, keep vigilance and let some officers loiter around in civil attire, we need to keep an eye out for this area, we have  quite a few tourist places here. Dismissed for now.”

With that, the sounds of screeching and pushing chairs filled the room as the officers made their way out of the room one by one. 

“Officer (Y/N), please wait, I have a discussion with you regarding the burglary case.”

“Sure sir.”

As soon as the room was empty he walked up to the door and closed it.

“Sir, the case has been–”

“Closed, I know, this is regarding the shipments.” he paused before continuing "It's a mind game (Y/N). I’m sure of it.”

“May I know the reason, Sir?”

 “This time, they have targeted Busan. It's like a flag of ownership and victory, not a missed shipment. Whatever actual shipment was headed for Gangnam, has already reached there while the police were distracted with this one. It's like a declaration– they have their hold beyond this city now.”

“But 48 kg of cocaine costs a lot Sir, and Han was right, whatever shipments we have found over the months, they cost billions.” 

“And..do we know if those belong to this new…snake?”

(Y/N) frowned at his response

“The underworld, (Y/N) is no stranger to brutality. As I mentioned before, this new player knows the streets. They’re experienced. Do you really think that they will make such an amateur mistake? Not a single dealer caught, no man caught. They are mocking us, making us run around like puppies...But now, I have a name for the snake…”

“A name?”

Her boss nodded before handing her his phone. There was a message from an unsaved number. A message with only two letters.

RM

“So–so who is this?”

“Can be anyone, a business tycoon, a philanthropist or whatever, but a looming figure in the underworld with eyes and ears everywhere. Ever since the last major drug dealer was shot dead in Dubai last year, we have been receiving anonymous alerts on such shipments.”

“So, you are suggesting that this…person has replaced the notorious Don? He was a Godfather, Sir and wasn’t his son about to take up—”

“And where is his son (Y/N)? Vanished, we have no idea where he is but this is not their pattern. We know that. Their businesses are sealed– legal or illegal, their bank accounts were frozen, properties here sealed– the family is not a threat now (Y/N). But this…” He pointed at his phone in her grip “This is. They are a clear, looming threat and it is so obvious that they fear no, nothing. It's like a game to them.”

“So, what do you want me to do?”

Her superior sighed and nodded as he took his phone back “It is not easy but I know I can trust you on this. I am forming a team, and I will update you soon about that but for now, we know that this snake knows the street well, maybe they belonged there once. Take a few days off and take a sweep of the street meanwhile. We need to have more information.”

“Sure, Sir.” she squared her shoulders

He nodded “Okay, you can go now, do not let anyone suspect anything until I inform you of the rest of the team.”

“Sir.” giving him a salute, she turned to walk away.

“And (Y/N).”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Be careful. We have a cunning and venomous one here.”

“I will keep that in mind, Sir.”

“Okay, you can go now.”

—-------------

The place looked as peaceful as ever. The aroma of roasted coffee beans, blended with that of butter and chocolate– it was a typical cafe. And the same cafe she had met Namjoon for the first time.  And as she watched the couple sitting across the place, the same seat she had been sitting on months ago, her meeting with Namjoon, her interaction, it all felt surreal. Their story was indeed novel-worthy! Like a perfect romcom—

Perfect…

(Y/N) froze completely for a moment when the realisation struck her– her chewing, her fiddling, even her breathing and blinking.

Each movement spent with her boyfriend flowed in and each moment seemed so…Perfect.

Beautiful or not, (Y/N) knew one thing about the world…Nothing is perfect.

Yes, there were some shortcomings here and there but the meetings, the bumping into one another again…Everything was indeed perfect.

She gulped, then blinked.

No, she was thinking too much. Namjoon was a true gentleman. A man she was falling for, she really liked him. Maybe–maybe even loved him? She was not much sure about love but she knew one thing for sure, her job’s stress was spilling over on her personal life and affecting her personal relationships.

Before her thoughts could spiral any further, the chair in front of her was pulled out and her boyfriend took a seat in front of her, boring holes into her form as he made himself comfortable.

“Oh, Hi Namjoon.”

Namjoon did not respond immediately, he just sat there, staring right into her eyes, fingers folded into a contemplating posture. For the first time, (Y/N) realised that indeed, it would not be difficult for him to take control over a class of even hundreds– he had a commanding presence.

“You have not been answering my calls,” he stated. 

There was no questioning regarding the possible reasons. There was no trace of ‘questions’ in his tone at all.

“Yes, I have been a bit busy lately– just the usual, police things.”

Namjoon simply hummed, eyes still searching hers without a shift. “What are you getting, little bird?”

“Uh…Coffee?” she was left baffled at her own reaction. 

It was Namjoon, just Namjoon. So why did she feel… scrutinised? She was reminded of the night she had seen a glimpse of…something in his eyes. 

“So– what would you have?” her gaze dropped to the menu card in front of her.

“The usual.”

She nodded to a waiter passing by 

“Would you like to order Ma’am?”

But before she could speak up, Namjoon ‘s voice intervened “One cappuccino frappe and a caramel macchiato along with some choco-chip cookies please.” 

As soon as the waiter was gone, he reached out for her hand on the table and sighed “You scared me (Y/N).” his eyes looked so soft and vulnerable, she thought she was crazy. Something had to be wrong with her to doubt a man like him.

“I’m so sorry Joon, I was so stressed about my job I…” he squeezed her hand gently and nodded.

“It must be stressful, right? See, you have dark circles forming.” His fingers reached out and traced the subtle bags forming under her eyes. “But please let me know (Y/N), let me know that you are okay, not too stressed, not hurt…I was so worried!”

Guilt encompassed her as she stared at his vulnerable gaze addressing her. He had been so worried about her and there she was, letting her investigative brain rush to conclusions and scenarios.

“I’m...I’m so sorry Joon, I should have informed you– I was so wrapped up in things and—” she stopped herself lest she would accidentally let something confidential slip out. And no matter who it was, having a loose tongue as a police officer was unacceptable.

“It’s okay, I understand Baby. Just never...” his hold on her hand tightened with a pause “Avoid me again.”

—-----

Everything was settled. Han, her, Dok and Kyong were in the special team. They met up at Han’s place in order to discuss their strategy.

“So we have a layout of the regions where we found drugs worth millions and from different cities. Each time, different location and different day.”

“Where’s the pattern though?” Han questioned, 

“In the fact that everything time, it is a city, a town at least, no remote area.”

“Yes.” (Y/N) added. All eyes turned to her and Kyong nodded “Not yet.”

“So, where do we begin?” Dok asked the much-anticipated question

“ As we know, we are on leave on paper. This is a highly confidential mission. First thing first, Sir asked us to be lowkey. No matter what we need to risk, just don’t get caught. The department would refuse any connection without activities here.”

“If it's a special mission then, why not involve the intelligence?”

“We are yet to receive any message from the higher-ups,” Kyong explained

“So we are on our own?”

“Definitely,” Han added.

“What we can do now is to track where the recent shipment was supposedly headed for– Gangnam. Why don’t we all spread to different high-profile clubs? Meanwhile, tell our informants to be on high alert, especially in Gangnam and nearby localities, even universities and colleges.” (Y/N) proposed.

“You’re right. Shall we go tonight?” Dok proposed

“Yes, we can but would not this be obvious if anything happens tonight? We found a shipment yesterday.” Kyong suggested,

“The weekend then?” 

“No (Y/N), the weekend is just too obvious. If anything does happen this weekend, it might be planned too, maybe to distract us—right–Kyong, your best informants are active nearby airports, stations and docks right?”

Han perked up as if a fuse went off in his head

“Tell them to be active tonight and especially this weekend. We can spread it in different clubs in Gangnam. If anything happens there, we shall also alert the informants and the police near dockyards, train stations and transportation areas. Because if they do plan to distract us, they might be up to something much bigger. Shipment, I assume, for now. We can catch them red-handed.”

“But where would be the official orders? Like, we are involving police officers from other regions Han.” Kyong had a point.

“Well, right, we can speak to Sir, right? He will provide us with the required.” Han proposed.

“Han is right, if this is a special mission at the department level, there is no way that the higher-ups have no idea. And even if they have no idea and Byuk Sir is risking it all for this mission, he has to have some loopholes in his mind. He can manage and he can help us all manage.” (Y/N) added.

“But, wait, we were supposed to just collect information, not arrest anyone.” Dok pointed out.

“Well, not this RM, we can’t reach to such a level by ourselves, but maybe get out hands on this…RM’s men? Won’t this be a breakthrough?” Kyong argued.

“And would alert them further? We don’t even know if this is a man, woman, organisation, or group–we are in complete darkness!” Dok pointed out and he was right.

“Dok’s right. We will only collect information, a full-fledged operation would happen only after approval from the higher-ups, we don’t know who we are dealing with Kyong and if something goes wrong, the whole department, especially Byuk Sir would be under fire. We have to first find out this…RM’s reach and standing.”

“Seems obnoxiously confident to me, deliberately giving away billions worth of shipments,” Han added.

“And we will let them be confident. Won’t take long to turn into overconfidence– one misstep and we can have them.” (Y/N) spoke up and everyone nodded in agreement.

“This weekend then.” Dok reminded.

“This very weekend Dok,” Kyong assured.

—-----------

“Are you free this Weekend?” Namjoon asked as he poured her some wine. 

They were dining in a moderately fancy restaurant to celebrate his promotion as the Department Head. Now he would be responsible for all the inter-section activities and event organisations for the Literature and Culture Department of the University.

“I wish I were Baby, but I need to help a friend out. She’s a colleague, her mother is sick, I need to take care of her baby for a day.”

“Oh, what happened?” he asked before sipping his wine.

“Cancer.”

She hated the fact that she was having to lie to him. But what was needed, was to be done.

“Oh, the type?”

“I don’t know much, it has been rough on her, I’m trying to help as much as I can.”

Namjoon hummed before smiling “It’s okay, Jagi, we will get to spend a lot of time later. Just take care of yourself, hmm?”

“Yes, sure Joon.” she smiled back, but guilt continued to tap within.

But it would be alright. Once she was done with this case, she would make up for the lost time with her Joonie. She reassured herself.

—------

“Okay, I’ve reached, Dok,(Y/N), Han?” Kyong’s voice was clear despite the thrumming music across the floor littered with moving and blinking streaks of neon. The earbuds were incredible.

.

“Yes, I’ve reached. Over.” (Y/N) responded and followed.

“Okay, you have your informants inside?”

“Yes.” (Y/N) replied, as she neared the bar, body language relaxed and dressed up to mingle with the crowd.

She ordered a drink– her eyes met with that of the bartender. They flashed with recognition and he nodded and prepared her drink. He poured yellow syrup over it.

A subtle sign that he was suspicious of someone in the nightclub.

“Here you go Ma’am.” he smiled and leaned further for the final garnishing, and as he leaned, he managed to whisper out “A man in a white shirt, scotch on rocks– corner seat.”

Taking her drink, she turned around and looked around the area. It was too chaotic and dark. And if there was someone, she did not want to seem even remotely suspicious. Fishing out her phone, she connected with another informant in the place– a waitress.

“Man in a white shirt, scotch on rocks, a corner seat. Use a bug.”

For an hour, whatever she had heard had been irrelevant but then, something caught her ears

“Yes, whole forty-eight, the shore, where else? Let's talk upstairs…”

From where she stood, she could see the man, partially visible under the shadows– he was a middle-aged, bulky man. But he was not alone, there were three more people. As they moved, (Y/N) slipped further under the shadows, pretending to be just another girl on call. Yet, from the corner of her eyes, she could see them beginning to walk towards the more private space of the club.

Under the shadows, she was about to stalk them when, with a beep, her team reconnected with call.

“ This is Kyong. We have information regarding a suspicious shipment at the dockyard, I repeat, we have information regarding a suspicious shipment to be loaded at the dockyard within an hour. Over.”

“Kyong, I think we have a suspect here. Over.” (Y/N) informed.

“We have to move to the dockyard first (Y/N) give the tell your informants to stay alert there. Over.” Kyong spoke

“Kyong, this might be important.”

“(Y/N), this is more important, you are alone there anyway. Just meet us near Cafe 18.” he named the meeting point in coded language.

Sighing, (Y/N) threw the door leading upstairs one last look before reconnecting with her informants 

“Keep an eye, bug the place if possible. Also, keep tonight’s footage ready. I’m leaving now.”

—-----

To their utter disappointment, there was no suspicious shipment discovered at the dockyard. Everything was in place. But the people the informant was suspicious of, had vanished into thin air as well– tightening the knot on the case further. 

“It's far more complicated than I had expected,” Dok spoke out, running his hands through his hair. 

After such a hectic night, the four of them decided to call it a day and grab some dinner at a good, old ramen shop.

“This is only our first attempt Dok, we can’t lose hope like that.” (Y/N) patted his back.

“It makes no sense, they are in the CCTV footage but they never reach the dock.”

Wait–CCTV footage!

“Oh right, I think I have found a lead.” (Y/N) dropped her chopsticks and perked up. She prayed that at least the bartender would have his hands on the CCTV footage.

“Really? What?” Han asked, 

“See, I have the recordings, I already sent them to each of you, just listen.”

Fishing out their earbuds, they listened to the part of the recording she had sent them. 

“Sounds familiar? He did not use anything directly, not an amateur for sure but the words, forty-eight, shore. Don’t they ring a bell?”

“They surely do. Can we have access to tonight’s footage?”

“I hope so too. By tomorrow I guess?” (Y/N) prayed what she said would come true.”

“Okay, as soon as you get hold of that, inform us. Han, is your girlfriend home?”

“No, she has gone to her parents’.”

“Perfect.” Kyong clapped his and together.

—------

“Have you watched the footage yourself?” Kyong asked as Han began to set up his laptop.

“No, I came straight here.” (Y/N) replied with her eyes still stuck on the laptop screen 

“That's a good move, what if people are keeping an eye on us too?”

“Quiet possible.”

As soon as Han clicked on ‘play’, the strenuous task of analysing the video began. But four pairs of eyes were far better than one.

(Y/N) could feel her patience waning. The man and those people with him had been so exceptionally discreet, there was no trace of them in the footage even after hours of watching and—

“Wait, wait wait! Rewind that.” She jumped up as soon as something caught her eye.

“What, this?” Han was clueless.

She tasked and took the laptop before rewinding the footage again. Narrowing her eyes, she zoomed in.

“It's him, the man.” She declared and placed the laptop in front of everyone.

“I see. We need to save this picture, take a screenshot Han.” Kyong suggested as he clicked a picture on his phone too. 

It was thankfully, not blurry enough to be unrecognisable, and the fact that they had not reached the end of the video made them more hopeful of catching something else. 

Han clicked on play again before they discovered the people with the man as well. One by one.

“Hmm, there are three more men and a woman. But only their backs are visible until now.”

“Wait!” (Y/N) yelled out, catching them off guard.

“Did you find something?” Han asked as he paused the video once more.

(Y/N) licked her lips and took hold of the laptop. Rewinding the part, she watched closely again. The second man…Even though his back was to the camera, he was too familiar to her.

After a few seconds, they all turned to the side to take their seats. There, she could see his side profile and her legs were fast turning brittle.

“You have seen anyone from here (Y/N)?” she could not answer Dok.

Instead, her eyes stayed on the frozen screen, she zoomed in and a wave of nausea hit her.

Namjoon...

It was Namjoon!

Her boyfriend Namjoon. She would recognise him anywhere– from the way he walked, to his back, his hair and now his side profile. Too many coincidences could never be a coincidence.

“(Y/N), you know him?” Kyong asked.

Yes.

She wanted to scream a ‘yes’ but she just could not.

“No, I was just…taking a good look at them.” she deadpanned.

—------

“Hello, this is (Collage Name) College, how may I help you?” The receptionist’s gentle voice echoed through the phone, but it only turned (Y/N)’s heartbeat erratic.

“Hello, I would like to leave Professor Namjoon a message regarding the upcoming semester.”

“Let me check Ma’am, please let me know your details.” She requested

“ Choi Hana, Guardian of his student.”

“I request you to stay online, please…Yes, thank you, Professor Namjun you asked. Let me transfer your call to the Economics Department.”

“Economics Department? But isn’t he a professor in the Department of Literature and Culture Studies?”

“Ma’am we only have Cultural Studies Department. Literature is a separate Department. Shall I forward this call, Ma’am?”

“Okay.” (Y/N) managed to squeak out.

After a few beeps, another voice greeted her.

“Good afternoon, this is the Department of Economics of (College Name) College, how may I help you?” Another woman’s voice filled her ear.

“Can I speak to Professor Namjun, please? I am a guardian of one of his students”

“I am sorry Ma’am, he is attending the Department meeting right now. But you can leave a message.”

“He is the department chairperson, right?”

“No Ma’am, not anymore, he was, two years back.”

“Oh?”

“Yes Ma’am, would you like to leave a message?”

“Sure, please let him know that…that I would be thankful to him if he could give me an appointment to meet him. It's an urgent matter.”

“Surely ma’am, would you like to share your name and contact?”

“Yes, uh, Choi Hana.” she gave the email address she used for her undercover investigations before the line was cut off.

(Y/N) felt her throat close up and her eyes turn blurry. The park was scarcely populated during the afternoons– thanks to that. But she would still not risk breaking down in a public place. Se ought to hold herself up like a true officer.

Leaning against a tree, she tried to gather herself together. But with each passing moment, her lips quivered just a little more.

No. Not now. Now now!

She tried to school herself. But nothing seemed to work. One stubborn tear managed to escape her eye anyway.

I loved you.

Another tear followed.

I trusted you

Then another.

But she managed to stop herself from bursting into a fit of tears and the scream that was itching her chords with deep, calming breaths.

A drink.

Yes, that was what she needed.

—-----

By the time she was home, the sun had already set, but it was a pleasant evening– ideal for walking home. She was not drunk, or even tipsy. It was just a buzz but it could not make her feel any better.

The apartment was plunged into a tense darkness when she stepped in. Her fingers twitched, ready to reach for her gun at any moment, but she kept her body language calm– casual and unassuming.

“How was babysitting?”

She jumped at his voice. But it was too dark for her to see. 

Before she could reach the light switch, Namjoon switched on a table lamp, illuminating the space enough for her to see him sitting on the sofa but somehow making her own apartment appear threatening. 

With him in it, the place did not even feel like her own. She no longer felt safe with him.

Switching on the lights anyway, she schooled her expressions to that of being pleasantly surprised, even though her throat felt parched. Sometimes, working in the police paid off immensely.

“I was babysitting yesterday Joon,” she replied, putting away the titbits she had bought on her way home.

Namjooon gave her the heart-melting smile her heart had fluttered for. She managed to smile back at him as she made her way towards the kitchen. The delicious aroma of her favourites hit her. Switching on the kitchen lights, her suspicions were confirmed as takeouts from her favourite ramen stall awaited her at the kitchen island.

“I missed you awfully today. Couldn’t help myself.” Namjoon's hot breath teased the back of her neck, making goosebumps appear all over her body.

“Oh, Joon…you didn’t have to.”

“I don’t mind doing this for you, Jagi.” He placed a kiss on the back of her neck as she held back a grimace, keeping her smile plastered on her face.

Her heart stung bitterly as his lips tenderly traced her cheek and the side of her neck. She was greeted by his warm smile and soft eyes as he turned her around, fished out his phone from his pocket and played her favourite song. Perfect for slow-dancing to.

“What has gotten into you?” (Y/N) chuckled, keeping her composure as he led her steps, twirling her now and then.

“I love you so much, Jagi. You know that right?” his fingers wrapped gently at the back of her neck as he pulled her into a breath-robbing kiss.

“Yes, I know that.”

Now that I know your true face.

His lips descended to the side of her neck as he pulled her closer. 

Bear it.

She told herself.

Do not let him be suspicious.

“Then why are you trying to investigate me?”

His voice dropped into something heavy and unrecognisable and everything stilled. But before she could think of anything, she felt his fingers pressing at the side of her neck and her eyes rolled back.

*****

Pheww! It was a long part, but I enjoyed writing it and hopefully, it would not disappoint you all!

[wear-this-for-me-sweetie]

One of the wonders of my childhood and early teens was the mail order catalogue.

In the 70s/80s these were a big thing in the UK. Basically a shopping mall in a book, where you could browse the aisles from your sofa.

When you decided what you wanted, all you had to do was fill out a lengthy form by hand, writing the long product codes with a bic biro, post it with a cheque for the total amount, and hey presto, in as little as two weeks, the postman would deliver your items to your door.

Hi tech magic!

Kays was one of the most popular catalogues, and my mother made sure we always had the latest edition in the house.

As far back as age 5 or 6, I remember spending hours looking at the girls clothes, thinking how pretty they were, imagining myself wearing them, and feeling sad that I couldn't. My parents were of their time and explained, kindly, that these were not the things that boys wore.

But I carried on. For years.

When I was older, I took more interest in the underwear and lingerie sections. A lot of my friends did the same, and for them, it was a bit of innocent naughty fun.

For me though, leafing through those pages was like coming to terms with the fact that this is what I wouldn't become. I would never have this kind of body and I would never get to wear this...stuff (Not true because of course I do now, but I couldn't foresee that back then).

The muted sadness of that was ever so slightly offset by the persistent glowing appreciation of the majestic women adorning those pages.

In my teens, I did find these images somewhat arousing too of course. Girls, women, females in general...they were 'other' in one sense. They weren't like me, they were magnificently mysterious creations and I loved the way they looked, dressed, sounded, moved, thought, smelled, gestured, held themselves and were regarded.

But in another sense, they were like me. Or rather, I was like them, inside myself, and that's where I had to keep it, hidden away. Learning to talk, act and even think like a 'proper' boy. Girl envy was a motif of my formative years; they had the girl bodies that allowed them to be the way they were, but I didn't.

I should say here that I did okay as a boy, and did not spend my life out of my skin 100% wishing I was someone else all of the time. This is the blessed curse of being non-binary - not resonating with your assigned gender but not being fully at odds with it either. It's exciting and confusing in equal measure.

Over the years, like many people, I started to come to terms with just how much of me was concealed by the male front. And I realised that wearing female clothes was indeed just one aspect of self expression I was denied.

And that's why now, along with dressing the way I want more and more, I'm enjoying letting more of my true female self come through in many other ways.

Annnnnwayyyy back to the catalogues.

Below is a selection of catalogue excerpts (mostly Kays) that were the staple of my childhood reading. And although they represent the frustration I felt, they were also a beautiful oasis for me, allowing an hour or so each week to take a well earned break from performative boyness.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"A lot of people ask me, 'Chloe, what's the hottest part of being a pregnant trans girl?' And I mean, there are a lot of things! First of all, my womb is technically State property, so I have no say in if I get pregnant or not. Every time my uterus is ready I'm inseminated via a small port on my side, after lots of fertility drugs, of course, which are part of my hrt routine. I'd say, though, my favorite thing is the uncertainty of birth...... My port has a tracking device. So all of my checkups and any medical-related stuff happens compulsorily wherever I am. They pull up, take off my clothes, measure me, weigh me, take breast milk samples, semen samples, ask me embarrassing questions about how often I'm having sex, masturbating, if I'm letting men smack my belly during intercourse and if not, why not?

So I can be out on a date or at work or in line at the grocery store and they'll come up to me and do this whole checkup as everyone watches, filming, gossiping about it, and my body.... It's so humiliating, having my clothes removed, or sometimes even cut off of me with scissors, as the nurses and doctors only talk to each other and never me. I just have to obey as they touch and poke my body, grabbing me, openly talking about my growth and stuff..... I can only talk if they ask me questions like 'How many men have you fucked this week?' or 'Are you engaging in any extreme bondage?' or 'Are you using drugs while you prostitute?' I then have to explain that I don't prostitute myself and they don't believe me..... Well, I mean..... OK I hook sometimes but not all the time! It's just a hobby......

Then of course they weigh me and ask me stuff like how fat I'm trying to get..... again, more loaded fetish questions..... They take milk samples as another nurse jerks me off for a semen sample. When they're done they give me a nice spank and go on their merry way, leaving me still in line or at a restaurant on a date, naked, hugely pregnant, totally embarrassed.... But of course, the real answer to the initial question is obvious.... The hottest thing? I wasn't given any way to give birth naturally, so like a growing amount of trans girls I don't get the pleasure of giving birth anally or urethrally...... I'm given C-Sections...... no matter where I am, just like my checkups.

Last time I had a guy over and I was riding him, my cock on his chest getting absolutely smashed to hell by my giant pregnant belly every time I pumped down on him. It was pure bliss, some of the best sex I had that whole week! When...... the doctor came in. They have a key because my womb is State property, so they can enter my place whenever...... They told us not to worry or bother interrupting ourselves. So I mindlessly rode his cock and he had the time of his life watching this unfold, as they smeared my belly with numbing gel and, yepppp....... And every time I slowed down they told me it was a routine retrieval, that my time was up for this pregnancy, to not 'be dramatic' and stop what I was doing....

We both came so many times, we were exhausted by the end, because after we came they'd smack my ass and tell me to keep riding. I covered his chest in so much cum, it was glorious! My balls legit felt ready to pop, picture it.... My big hips, riding a guy anally, my balls were on his groin getting smashed under the weight of my belly, full of quintuplets with every pump and thrust..... My scrotum was bruised for a week, which guys just found hot..... They slapped this gel on my incision after my babies were taken out (again, State property!), and my whole Caesarian scar was healed in like a day. Not that they bothered to line it up with my other three Caesarian scars, so my belly is gorgeous but it kinda looks like people are taking a samurai sword to my belly when I'm full term. Wait, don't give them any ideas..... Kidding! I love being a breeder for the State! And I can't wait to see how many kids get pulled out of my belly this time.... I'll try to fuck as much as I can when I'm full term, so hopefully I get to give another guy the ride of his life! ❤️"

[kikokus]

Lucci and Kaku: An Analysis

I haven’t done long analysis/meta/essay-style posts in a while, but after seeing a comment that amounted to “every time Lucci’s shown an interest in something that doesn’t have to do with killing, Kaku’s involved” it made me think about whether or not that's true and, more specifically, whether or not there’s been sufficient build-up to justify what happens in Chapter 1111.

So let’s explore, shall we?

First of all, basic disclaimer that I’ve been heavily into One Piece since 2008 and Water 7 has been my favorite arc since the first time I read it that summer. Kaku, in turn, has always been one of my top characters in the entire series for various reasons…but this isn’t about him (at least, not entirely), so all of that is just to say that I’ve thought about these characters a lot over the years.

And I think what always struck me about them is that not only are they so fundamentally different, but that realistically Lucci should not tolerate Kaku at all. He’s pretty much everything Lucci’s not, and they’re more-or-less a perfect example of the ‘someone will die…of fun!’ meme in a lot of ways (and honestly it’s what I think of every time I see this card, but I digress):

At the same time, what happened in the latest chapter didn’t surprise me, because there’s been hints all along, and I’ve personally been waiting years for it to pay off…even though part of me thought it never would, or at least not in the way it did!

Still, how did we get here?

But First, A Bit About 相棒

So. Why is the fact that Lucci calls Kaku his “相棒” (aibou) so significant? Mostly because of the…individualistic meaning of the word. It literally translates to ‘partner’, but not in a romantic/life-partner way (not to say that it has never been used like that, but it’s not the inherent meaning of the word).

Unlike words such as 友人 (yuujin), 友達 (tomodachi), and of course, with Luffy, 仲間 (nakama), aibou generally only refers to one person. You can have many friends, teammates, crew members…but only one aibou. So by calling Kaku that, Lucci’s already placing him on a different level to anyone else in CP9 or CP0 and acknowledging openly that Kaku’s important enough to him to have earned that distinction.

Which is why a lot of us were very excited about it, since this is not a common occurrence where Lucci’s concerned.

That aside, let’s get to the actual canon content.

Water 7

Obviously at the beginning we find out they both work at the shipyard, but that in and of itself isn’t entirely significant…until you consider that, since Kalifa is pretty much with Iceburg all the time and Blueno’s running the bar, the two of them are working in much closer proximity to each other than to the other CP9 members in the city. 

The first real indication we get regarding their comfort level with each other comes in chapter 327 when Kaku gets back from examining the Merry and goes to sit down to explain what he’s discovered. Paulie’s the closest to him, but he actually ends up stepping past both him and Lucci in order to sit directly beside Lucci on the same level.

It’s quite a while before we see the two of them alone again, and it doesn’t happen until chapter 339 when they’re speaking with Robin. Of course at the time we’re not supposed to know it’s them, but there’s really nobody else it can be since this is happening at the exact same time that Blueno’s talking with Franky and Kokoro at the bar. So, as will become fairly common, the two of them are again acting as a unit of their own within the larger group.

And then, of course, we get the infiltration of the mansion prior to The Big Reveal (which I’ve spoken about before because for me it’s still the single greatest reveal in the entire manga because of how carefully crafted it is, right down to Kaku’s limited dialogue in this section being completely devoid of his usual speech quirks in the original Japanese text). Once again, Blueno and Kalifa are doing their own things while these two are working together.

This panel has always been interesting to me because immediately prior to this Lucci says he can’t let Paulie live, and then he decides to just restrain him instead. In Luffy’s case it makes sense because they gave their word to Robin not to harm the Strawhats, but he has absolutely no reason to spare Paulie, and the little lines of shock/surprise beside Kaku imply that he hadn’t expected Lucci to do that, either. The ‘why’ is still unclear, but it’s interesting nonetheless, and it’s also…noteworthy that it’s the only thing Lucci asks Kaku to do. All of the actual damage Paulie takes comes from Lucci and he never asks for or expects Kaku to harm him.

I never connected these two panels before but it’s obviously very deliberate to have Lucci telling Iceburg that feeling emotions is a sign of humanity followed immediately by Kaku…demonstrating exactly that and thanking Iceburg. It’s important to establish that part of Kaku’s character, but keep in mind Lucci’s lack of a reaction here because it’ll come back later.

Again, very tiny moment, but there’s a lot of examples of Lucci deferring to Kaku or letting him take the lead without any hesitation, and I like this because Kaku’s noticed something that Lucci hasn’t and Lucci just goes with it immediately.

I’d forgotten about this but Kaku’s also the one that decides to take Usopp with them, first by recognizing him as one of the Strawhats and then going through with it even after finding out he doesn’t consider himself a part of them anymore. And Lucci just…stands back and lets him give out orders to the others while doing so.

Okay so this is what I was referencing earlier. Kaku shows actual emotions with Iceburg and Lucci’s silent, but the moment Kalifa gets even slightly happy about completing the mission he’s berating her instantly. Kaku’s expression here is interesting too because he looks absolutely haunted and it’s very telling.

And also another visual representation of Lucci and Kaku being equal to/on the same level as each other.

I didn’t include the panel but Kaku was ‘sleeping’ when Corgi was giving them all of the information about Nero while Lucci was (seemingly) wide awake, and yet Lucci has no idea who he is and relies on Kaku to have all the information. Which he does.

Kaku being the one to take charge again and direct the others even though Lucci’s standing right there. They do this more than I’d realized at first, especially since Lucci always seems to be looked at as the unofficial ‘leader’ of CP9.

Enies Lobby

We’ve made it to Enies Lobby, which is the first glimpse we get of these two interacting with the full CP9 group outside of any sort of ‘mission’ environment.

Mostly it entails Lucci being more combative (especially with Jabra) and Kaku being more annoyed, but again I can’t really imagine anyone else taking this tone with Lucci and getting away with it while Kaku does it fairly often and Lucci never retorts or gets angry with him.

And while Kaku’s not immune to taking Jabra’s bait in the right circumstances, his typical tendency is to de-escalate situations if he can and here he’s refusing to engage despite being deliberately called out…and Lucci, without being asked, immediately takes his side and defends his choice.

This is practically the next panel and while both Lucci and Jabra are kind of equally at fault for this little display, Kaku only berates Jabra for it while Kalifa’s directing her comments at both of them.

Now that I’m actually looking for these sorts of things it’s becoming more obvious, but again we have Lucci and Kaku in an equal position to each other at the front of CP9.

This isn’t just to Kaku since Kalifa’s there as well, but Lucci’s still encouraging them to eat the fruits and I have to believe it’s coming from a place of good faith because he’d know whether or not being able to swim is that big an issue in their profession. I also want to note that Kaku echoes Lucci’s ‘it’ll be fun’ line when he actually does eat his fruit, so obviously that resonated with him.

I’ve put these two together because they both highlight the same thing, that being in both of these sequences we get almost all of CP9 giving out their individual thoughts/comments on what’s happening but Kaku’s statement both times is a direct reply to what Lucci says, so again the two of them are paired off in a way that doesn’t include anyone else there. 

The only other thing of note in this section is that while Robin’s talking about what happened during the Buster Call on Ohara, Kaku and Lucci are the only CP9 members to kind of…break formation and actually look at her while she’s speaking, which is interesting.

And for the rest of Enies Lobby they aren’t together so there’s not too much more to say here other than Kaku of course being the one to have the actual key to Robin’s cuffs, but it’s never made explicit who came up with that plan or handed out the keys so…if I ever actually do the thing and write a full analysis of Kaku’s character we can talk about it then Lark you’ve been saying you’ll do this for years IF I EVER--

Interlude - CP9’s Independent Report

Besides the fact that this is still one of my favorite cover stories, there’s a couple of noteworthy things here, the first of which is that Kaku again is taking the lead. Even though he’s the only other CP9 member other than Lucci to be injured badly enough that he can’t walk on his own, he’s still the one directing them where to go.

Other than that, I love seeing all of them just…interacting like friends and being very relaxed and casual, and pretty much every panel where Kaku and Lucci are together they’re directly beside each other so I’ve included a bunch of those here.

Dressrosa & Egghead

The next time we see Lucci and Kaku is at the end of Dressrosa, where they’ve been promoted to CP0 Oda can we please get some explanation of how this happened and let me tell you, I remember this vividly because the spoilers at the time just said that Lucci was talking to ‘someone’ and when the raws came out you can bet I went right to the dialogue to see if it was Kaku because his way of speaking is so telling.

But even in this little scene, we can see they’re having an equal conversation and there’s a major difference between how Lucci’s speaking with Kaku and how he addresses Spandam mere seconds later.

After this we have the Reverie/Levely/what-even-is-this-thing-called arc where they get all of a single panel together and while it’s the first time we actually ‘see’ Kaku after the time-skip, nothing really interesting regarding their relationship happens, so let’s move on to…

The end of the colored manga! And Egghead.

We start with a very familiar situation: Lucci asking Kaku what’s going on, and while Kaku this entire arc seems more outwardly annoyed with Lucci than he ever was in the past (which is never really explained but then again, Lucci spends a lot of the arc doing things he’s specifically been told not to do, so maybe it’s understandable…), he still has all the information and relays it.

Though Kaku’s also much more comfortable letting his real personality show despite them being on a mission while before he was always completely serious after the Water 7 reveal, especially around Lucci. It came through with Zoro and Jabra but during the cover story he’s smiling and laughing a lot with Lucci right there so it makes sense he’d be more willing to let his guard down even ‘on the job’ by now.

So here’s the first real instance of Lucci showing concern for Kaku, something which escalates pretty quickly throughout the arc. It’s subtle, and though he’s framing it as a suggestion to Stussy, if he didn’t care at all he wouldn’t have said anything. 

At this point it’s fairly obvious that Lucci and Kaku don’t really have any authority difference between them and Kaku spends a lot of time in this chapter especially telling Lucci to Not Do The Thing. Anyone that’s ever lived with a cat knows how well this works.

I’ve always found this bit of dialogue particularly interesting because Kaku’s very openly…praising Sentomaru for choosing his loyalty to Vegapunk over assisting the government, and there’s no way Lucci doesn’t hear him say this but he doesn’t say anything in return. There’s no real evidence that Lucci knows about Kaku willingly giving up the key to Zoro or how conflicted he was about Paulie and everyone else, but this seems to imply that at the very least, even if he doesn’t share those sentiments, he wouldn’t think less of Kaku because of it.

Putting these two together since they’re in the same scene but at this point it’s not even subtle concern anymore, Lucci’s genuinely worried for Kaku and you can tell this caught him off-guard.

Kaku’s the first one to suggest working together but Lucci immediately backs him up and goes with the idea. It’s logical in the sense that it’ll give them the biggest chance to survive, but willingly working with pirates isn’t exactly the sort of thing that Lucci, especially in the past, would have so easily done regardless of the situation.

So at this point it’s becoming clear that this whole 4-v-2 section is supposed to be the most…light-hearted thing going on right now and a lot of it is played to be comedic, including Lucci’s inability to lie, but yet again there’s almost nobody else that could get away with scolding him the way Kaku’s doing here.

…And then we skip ahead a day and things happen that I really hope get explained at some point because they seem important, but while Lucci’s never going to have impeccable bedside manner, he’s very concerned with getting Kaku to rest and while Kaku’s trying to justify what happened Lucci really doesn’t seem to care about that. It’s a big departure from him being willing to write off anyone he deems ‘too weak’ and it’s a nice character moment.

I’d mentioned on my liveblog that some of the things Lucci was doing after this point were confusing, but if you look at them through the lens of him wanting to protect Kaku, it makes a lot more sense. Yes, he’s deliberately keeping him out of the loop, but Lucci I think has decided that he’s going to throw caution to the wind and act alone since if Kaku can’t prove he knew about the plan, he’s probably safer being left with the Strawhats, and if the Marines show up he should be safe anyway or so Lucci thinks…

When this chapter came out, I’d said something about Lucci being a hypocrite considering what the rest of CP9 did for him when they could have easily just left him at Enies Lobby, but given what happens almost directly after and likely what he’s trying to do with this entire fight, these words feel even less genuine…

And that brings us to this. The moment that I’ve been thinking about for almost an entire week now. The moment that, looking back at…oh, wow…almost 3000 words of analysis maybe shouldn’t be as surprising as it was for most of us, but it does feel like the payoff for a long, long buildup that’s taken nearly twenty years to reach. Because really, there’s no other way to describe them other than ‘partners’, and probably hasn’t been for a long time…and I’m so glad that Lucci acknowledged it.

To summarize, I think what surprised me most about re-visiting all of this is how much the manga has framed them as equals since the beginning even though it was never explicitly stated between the characters themselves. Lucci’s always been far more lenient with Kaku than with anyone else, and Kaku in turn has never had any fear of Lucci even if he wasn’t really expressing his true self with him for a long time.

The cover story being the turning point makes perfect sense, and the progression throughout Egghead of Lucci being more outwardly willing to show his concern and Kaku not hiding his emotions at all seems like a natural progression of their relationship and their level of comfort around each other.

And the fact that Oda is never really…hitting us over the head with any of it until that final moment when Lucci says everything so plainly because Kaku’s life is the most important thing to him even when faced with a literal monster… It’s so effective. 

I don’t know where we go from here. To be honest, I’m kind of scared of where we go from here. But regardless of the outcome, I hope this little essay has been at the very least interesting and perhaps allowed you to look at these two in a different light.

Thanks for reading.