#more of a stretch but weirdly enough i could also Kind Of see it being anankos looking out for you given well. Actual Dad spoilers i guess?

[dirtyoldmanhole]

i was clicking around on FE wiki and it reminded me that bifrost exists. aka super legendary 'revive one (1) of your people' staves aka reskinned Aum.

the staff that boss!gunter drops in revelation when you fight/"kill" him. that staff.

why the hell does he have it?

the only other time it shows up in fates is a random treasure chest in conquest near the end (in hoshido), so it's not really tied to the character or a location in an obvious way.

but it's the kind of thing that i can't see anankos giving to him because why help your enemy?

we're firmly in headcanon territory here, but ngl i could see gunter checking out some of the chests beforehand (he does collect some treasure for you if you decide not to fight mikoto two chapters before, so not an unreasonable assumption). he grabs it, holds onto it.

he's obviously not a staff user so he doesn't intend it for himself... kind of begs the question that he knows corrin's going to defeat/kill him and basically has it for corrin to find.

even after straight up betraying corrin he's still looking out for you.

:') p a i n

[hedgehog-moss]

The Great Jungle Fence of ‘23

A majority of you poll-voters expressed the opinion that my fence would stop Pampe for 4 to 7 days and I am very touched by this popular endorsement of my fence-building skills, because her first escape happened after roughly 4 hours.

^ Pampe connoisseurs will know that her preferred way of defeating fences is by karate-chopping them with her neck, but I thought she could only do that if the fence was low enough for her to put some strength in the chop. The jungle fence was at least as tall as Pampe in the place where I found it all droopy-sad after she escaped, so I guess Pampe added a new jump-chop combo attack to her character sheet. I imagine it went something like this:

That’s okay! All new information about Pampe is carefully filed and will contribute to the creation of the Ultimate Fence. I decided to simply make this portion of the fence unneckchoppable by braiding branches from nearby trees into the fence like they did in Indonesia with that living bridge made by knitting the roots of two banyan trees. I ended up using five or six branches so it’d be solid enough, but here’s a pic of the beginning of the process:

The braided-branch part of the fence still stands undefeated, after 20 days. Pampe ate all the leaves but couldn’t get rid of the branches and had to concede this battleground.

I then found her staring pensively (worryingly) at another potential weak point of the fence: the gate. I used a standard wood pallet at first, tied to trees, but it wasn’t very high. I couldn’t add another pallet on top of it because that would make it inoperable as a door, so I went to explore the barn, which like all barns is full of dusty treasures. What object do I own that’s like a pallet, but much taller?

!!

A slatted bed base. Once tied to a tree it swings open easily, but it was an awful chore to carry it all the way across the pasture, I had to wait for a weekend when my mum was going to visit me. That conversation went like:

Me: Do you remember that old bed in the barn? Can you help me carry it (well part of it) across the pasture? Mum: Why on earth Me: Pampe. Fence. Mum: That’s a good reason

I was very proud of my new, impassable gate, but Pampe was weirdly nowhere to be seen as I was setting it up. Usually she’s here carefully observing over my shoulder when I add a new element to a fence, so that was alarming.

In a flash of insight I realised I had been tricked; she’d never had any intention of jumping over the pallet gate. Too easy, too predictable. She’d only examined the gate to scare me into trying to solve this non-problem and force me to use my only trump card (I don’t have several old beds in the barn), and meanwhile she’d gone and jumped over a different pallet in a different part of the fence.

That other pallet had a sheep netting stretched above it, so that a) I thought it was unjump-able, b) Pampe thought it was a more amusing challenge. Poor Baby Poldine was a bit distraught; she clearly didn’t dare to jump to follow her mum but she didn’t want to be left behind once again, so she tried to slip through the net, but that didn’t work either.

Poldine made a baa noise like a traumatised baby goat and Pampe grudgingly turned back to go bump noses with her through the fence, it was a cute mother-daughter moment.

I added a new length of wire mesh (see pink arrow in the below pic) above the pallet to discourage further jumping, and my mum went “So you can remove the sheep netting and use it elsewhere” and I was like, what, no! Do you think they remove parts of the fence every time a Jurassic Park dinosaur escapes? That makes no sense. I’m only going to add more elements to this fence. Forever and ever or until it works.

Pirlouit, a law-abiding animal with very modest fence needs, was starting to look a bit overwhelmed.

Also—for once, Pampe didn’t look annoyed about being escorted back where I wanted her to be, she was kind of bouncy and looked immensely entertained by all this.

I’ll spare you the details but she escaped again, this time by lifting the bottom of the fence in a place where it was weighed down with a crossbar, which she broke in two with the power of her neck. That was easy to fix; instead of a wooden crossbar I weighed down the base of the fence with massive rocks. Go ahead and neck chop those, Pampe. But this time around it had taken me forever to find the spot where she escaped, so I decided to make things easier for myself in the future—I cordoned off the area just outside the fence with police tape between trees, along the whole length of it. This way I’ll see easily where she escaped—the tape is very flimsy and I crisscrossed it in places, so she shouldn’t be able to get past it without breaking it.

... So I suppose I’ll have to start the next post with “You’ll never guess what I caught Pampe doing last night” and a photo of her like

Anyway, Pampe looked unamused this time.

Well, that’s all. For now. Pampérigouste is back in the lawful enclosure with her family and we are waiting for her next move. Here’s a photo of her alone in the unallowed half of her pasture the other evening, contemplating her freedom

[whatlovelybones-if]

"the screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain" THE WHAT?! YOU DARE AVERY??? AND WTF J???

What would happen if MC and J were about to kiss, but MC suddenly stopped and just apathetically stared at them and said that they resented them for not being their first kiss, and just left? 😂😂

(Also, did MC have a some sort of relationship before the story began, or is that left for headcannon?)

it started with a simple statement.

“i won’t be riding back with you today,” J said.

you didn’t mind, not really. of course, you used to take every opportunity to spend time with them, but you could understand that they had their own life and sometimes their plans didn’t line up with yours.

“anything special you got planned?” you joked while closing your school locker, but you feel your insides wither and shrivel like a crumpled flower when they give you the actual reason.

“avery wanted to take me home today,” J said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal but the embarrassed pink on their cheeks give them away.

you had a feeling whatever was going to happen today, you wouldn’t be liking it at all. on top of that, J was acting weird as hell. not to mention that this avery person had been someone they’d been weirdly close the past couple of days.

you also happen to know that avery lived on the other side of town, completely off the route you and J took to get home every day. avery wasn’t just giving them a ride; it was something else. the more you thought about it, the more it sounded like a date. a motherfucking date.

you felt your heart starting to weigh three times heavier as you forced a smile and said, “oh, sure, that’s fine.” and then, before you could stop yourself, you found yourself stupidly asking, “so did they ask you out on a date or something?”

to save yourself the embarrassment and act nonchalant, you find yourself ruffling their hair slightly. if J noticed that you were forcing it, they didn’t let it show. instead they just laughed nervously, trying to fix their hair, and said, “actually, i was the one who ended up asking them out.”

wonderful. you wanted to scream, but you managed to give them the fakest smile you could. “i’m so happy for you.”

J picked up on the hint that maybe you weren’t feeling as happy as you’re saying you are because they asked, “are you alright, teddy?”

that nickname hurts even more now as you nod, “of course, why wouldn’t i be?”

one of J’s love languages has always been physical touch and everything just gets a lot more complicated; their hand on your back is warm, the inky dark eyes that stare back at you are kind and worried, the full pink lips that you wish to kiss look so inviting. they smell the same as always: leather, strawberries, spearmint, and marlboro red smoke masked by a fancy cologne/perfume.

“did i do something wrong?” J asks, looking like a kicked puppy.

you can’t stand it. the concerned look on J’s face as they ask you what’s wrong when everything is wrong right now. it’s wrong that they can’t see how much you love them. it’s wrong that they can’t see how loving them has become second nature for you. it’s wrong that they can’t see how you don’t want to be just their best friend.

knowing them, you know your best friend is probably imagining a thousand different scenarios of how they must’ve hurt you. but you know that they didn’t hurt you, they could never do that, at least not intentionally.

then you do it. you actually do it. one of the stupidest things you have ever done in your 15 years of existence.

you leaned in and kissed them.

the look on J’s face makes you wanna crawl into your own skin and die. their body had tensed up, their lips frozen open, parted but not uttering a sound. all of that was enough to tell you that it was fucking mistake. so you do the only thing that made sense to you at that moment: you turn and run outside like a fucking coward.

time seemed to slow down, each second stretching impossibly beyond normal. the only sound that could be heard was the rain. heavy, rhythmic, and coming down without pause. you don’t even feel the chill setting in as your whole body burns with the shame of what you did and the image of J’s reaction only makes your skin crawl more.

stupid, stupid, stupid!

you run across the parking lot to get to your car and book the hell out of the school campus. you utter a loud curse when you check your pockets and realise you left your car keys in your locker.

you’re soaked to the bone and you aim a swift kick at your car; panting like you just ran a marathon, hair sticking to your neck and cheeks, heavy breathing pushing your chest up and down, your face wet from both the rain and your tears.

tears? no, you’re not wrong, you can feel the saltiness mixing up with the rain and pouring down your face. you haven’t cried in forever. at least not in a genuine way.

why in the world did it have to J of all people that you had to fall for? they had been your best friend since you were kids, always a constant and comforting presence in your life. almost a decade of friendship down the drain because of your stupid feelings. it wasn’t worth it at all to lose your best friend like this.

your best friend who’s now calling your name. a yell in the distance muffled by the sound of the rain and of your breaking heart. your breath hitches but you ignore them. there’s no way you can face them, not right now.

“for god’s sake, you can’t just kiss me and walk away! hey!” J yells out.

“go away, J! i really don’t want to talk to you right now.”

they catch up to you, refusing to let you run off again. “and why is that, hm?”

“i don’t know!” you answer, throwing up your hands in exasperation. “i’m ignoring you right now.”

“well,” J continues to stubbornly come closer, “i am ignoring the fact that you’re ignoring me.”

you give them a glare. “that’s not how it works.”

J matches your challenging glare. “fine then. tell me why you kissed me and i will leave you alone.”

“i kissed you because i love you, you daft dumbo!” you nearly yell, frustrated beyond reason. ignoring the dumbfounded look on J’s face, you continue, “i’ve loved you ever since we were kids. i love your eyes and how they sparkle like stars when you’re talking about music. i love your voice and how it soothes me whenever i’m having a hard time. i love how you know me and know exactly what to say to make me feel better whenever and wherever. i just love you so much and i cannot stand the thought of you with avery. i will get over this though, J, just give me some ti—”

in a heartbeat, they lean in and their lips are on yours. you can’t help the gasp which slips out of your mouth, too surprised, too tense, and J holds your face dearly like you’re something precious, pressing your lips and body against theirs with something akin to desperation. both of you so entirely soaked from the rain, so entirely frightened, so entirely in love.

when the kiss ends, it’s because both of you are completely out of breath. J doesn’t let the space between the two of you grow any further, though. they instead press themselves further against you, your bodies fitting like perfect puzzle pieces.

“don’t get over me,” they plead, the taste of strawberry in your mouth, forehead against yours, dark eyes fluttering close. “don’t ever get over me.”

“b-but,” you stutter, head still spinning, “what about avery?”

J groans, following it up with a chuckle. “one date and i think even they’d be able to see it.”

“see what?”

“how you are the one i’m in love with.”

before you can even process what they just said, they lean in again to seal it with a kiss.

[ronearoundblindly]

i believe johnny needs some attention 🤭 A, B, C, & D?

Prompts from this dirty ask game, and the answer is my general impressions of canon Human Torch. Note at the end explains why it can't be my Johnny Storm AU in the works.

MINORS DNI. This is not for you, kiddos. Sorry.

A - Alone Time

He's not a man of finesse, that's for sure. Johnny doesn't consider or analyze anything long enough to know what his preferences are--

(unscented lotion and BBW porn)

--and he also isn't consistent. He's too young to need to think of a self-care routine and spends almost no time alone.

When not training, away on mission, or doing PR--a big job as the bad-boy of the astronaut program and the most charismatic of the Four,--he goes out a lot.

He feeds off the attention (and approval) of others, and therefore masturbation...does not fill that void.

B - Bondage

Johnny doesn't have that kind of forethought, and if Sue ever heard one fucking whiff of him restraining someone...she'd use magnetic fields to squish his testicles into oblivion.

If him being tied up is what gets him laid for the night, then strap that puppy down already! Only improvised stuff, though, like scarves, neckties, fuzzy cuffs, or whatever.

Johnny is a speed demon in every aspect of life. Bondage takes time, limits sex positions, slows him down (when moving others), and just...yeah, not appealing.

C - Crying

What type of crying we talking? If he's just met you, and suddenly, you're blubbering about how your boss treats you or some deep-seated family trauma, Johnny will jump out the window to get away.

Now, shedding tears because of how amazing his cock feels stretching you out and because he's the best fuck you've ever had...well, he can understand that. You go ahead and cry. The only soothing he'll be doing is to keep going.

Otherwise, he's got nothing.

No sweet words. No compulsion to talk about it. No intention of diving deeper and getting to know you.

Johnny is a one-trick pony in this department (sex); there's rarely a second hookup.

D - Dominance

His existence feels like a perpetual game. Johnny is always leveling up after a boss battle, and his life--his real life--amounts to nothing more than side quests.

Naturally, he's a take-whatever-he-wants and do-whomever-whenever-he-pleases type of guy. It's not dominance or submission.

He's amused when his bed partner shows some initiative or control, but he doesn't need them to. He is used to taking over, thinking on his feet, and finishing a job.

He's what we might call a 'practical dom.' He takes over out of necessity. If Johnny slowed down enough to really listen to and bond with someone, he'd have and existential crisis and fall apart.

That's why he's only alone when passed out drunk or exhausted. He won't survive self-reflection.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I couldn't answer almost any of these using Johnny from Phantom Pleasure because that's ghost!Reader. Bondage? Of a ghost? Probably not. Crying? Eh, long story, but unlikely. Dominate a non-corporeal entity? Yeah, no. And, weirdly enough, being alone? When a ghost could be there but not visible? Oops! (Yes, reader gets to see Johnny's alone time routine in that tale. Teehee. It's the opening scene lol.)

[krii-bolts]

✨N's FLASHBACKS!!✨

OKAY, ITS TIME TO COVER THE LIKE. 3 SHOTS OF FLASHBACK THAT WE GOT Also big thanks to Physics Anon and @runitails for their science contribution on the last Post, Khan and the Nori Closet, when it came to the spirals and their Red Text Equations

Again, EP 4 Spoilers!! Even though its been a while by now..

I'll admit, the following screenshots were not done by me (Cause mine sucked in quality) SO KUDOS TO THE PEEPS I SNATCHED THEIR SCREENSHOTS FROM Caussee I dont remember em (My bad ;-;)

ANYWAYS

^ OH boy her again.. and shes EATING A HUMAN HAND.

I see a lot of people refering her as CYN and honestly. I can't blame em, it fits (Especially with the Solver symbol as their right eye)

Ofc, I also see some simularities between This Drone and Nori (From the braided sides to similar swooped hair) but thats Lackluster Evidence at best and a mere coincidence at worst, so I dont believe in it... But might as well bring it up-

Orrrrr they could be sisters, i just realized. Making Nori 002 and This Drone / CYN 001.... uhoh.

^ Even with a clearer Quality photo, I got not much to say off of this..

What I can say is that its a Human arm, weirdly blacked out, being carried on some... claw? Its weird. This whole screenshot is weird. Gonna wait on this one.

I SHOULD MENTION THOUGH, FROM THIS PHOTO AND THE PREVIOUS ONE, THERES A VISIBLE PALE YELLOW OVERLAW ON THEM + LINES OF CODE.

It does not match the DD vision that we saw in Episode 1 in either, I checked and it was far different then these flashbacks.

I may be stretching it when it comes to these Flashbacks, do keep that in mind lol..

^ This. This scares me. And its where Physics Anon and Runitail's contributions come into play.

This is a fucking Black hole. And while I don't have Melanophobia (Fear of Blackholes), I know well enough the kinds of effects Blackholes can cause..

Apart from the jarring Blackhole, this is the FUCKING MANSION. THAT MANSION, and its being pulled apart so this blackhole is PRETTY DAMN CLOSE.

A blackhole that big and that close, can only spell bad news to the planet its nearest too, and in this case its Earth. That is if its a Regular Blackhole, and I don't its a typical blackhole...

I think Absolute Solver created this blackhole. From the [null] in the center aka "Nothingness" in a computers eyes to the lines of codes that flash behind it. Remember how Eldritch J collapsed in on itself and floated away as a "tiny black ball" in Ep 2??? It's hard to notice, but there's a Gravity Distortion around those balls... like what a Black hole would have.

Finally, lets bring in the Two Equations / Concepts that Physics Anon and Runitail brought it: Technological singularity and Artificial black hole. Artificial Black Hole concept adds more fuel to the possibilities of a Solver Created Blackhole but Technological Singularity?

To put the Technological Singularity concept into a """Shortened""" definition: A hypothetical Future where Technological growth becomes uncontrollable and irreversible, creating unexpected changes to human civilization... While Runi mentioned about Drone civilization becoming either Changed or Consumed, I don't think that's the case..

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

Human Civilization, more specifically JCjenson, goes and creates the Drone models. These Models are of Similar, if not the exact same, in intelligence to humans and were created for the need of a workforce thats expendable. Ofc like humans, not everyone wants to be pushed around and exploited by someone else, even if most don't or CAN'T realize this reality. And some rebel, even if its Futile... Some, whoever, were more successful and Dangerous then others. Experiments, Mutated Coding, who knows, but these Special Drones had the chance to rebel and succeed in it too: With a oily cost. Most of these drones were numbered with collars, so that JCjenson maybe could try and get things under control, for they knew what could happen if they didn't keep an eye on them.... They knew what would happen to Human Civilization if their Uncontrolled and Irreversible Technology ever reached earth.

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

Sorry this took longer then expected, I uh... was struggling a little on how to do this one cause N's Flashbacks are a little wack when it comes to stand alone theories. Did I stretch information on some? ABSOLUTELY, please yell at me at what things could be different or what I miss cause I probably did miss something.. (Also my brain is telling me to make Nori fanart woooo)

[trishmishtree]

So I just realized that I've made 5 dresses in the 2 years since I started sewing my wardrobe.

This blue silk satin dress was the first dress I ever made and was actually either the first or second article of clothing I ever made. I made it to wear to a friend's wedding and was just kind of winging it with no design in mind. I think I spent a total of 6-7 months working on it on and off. It fits well enough because I took the pattern off a dress that I already owned and had altered to fit me better. But there are definitely issues with the construction and fit if you look closely enough, and I definitely would make different choices to construct it if I were making it today.

This white dress I like to call my modernized chemise a la reine. I made it after stupidly deciding to see if I could shirr fabric by hand. And the conclusion is yes, you *can* do it, but I really don't recommend it unless you want to lose feeling in your hands halfway through but can't stop because you've already committed. If I ever make something similar again, I'll just stick to drawstrings at the neckline, underbust, and waist instead.

(image not found)

The third dress I ever made was actually made for a friend, so I don't have a picture of it. But the takeaway lesson from that was, if you're going to cut a skirt seam on the bias, leave it hanging up to stretch out for a few days before hemming the skirt. And if a dress is going to have a v-neck, try to cut the sides of the v on the straight grain so it doesn't stretch out and gape.

Technically not a dress, so I'm not counting this one towards the 5 dresses, but I wanted to include this blouse and skirt combo because the skirt is still one of my favorite things I've ever made. Only regret is that I made the pockets out of a heavier, stiffer fabric and they make the front of the skirt stick out weirdly. I'll have to rip them out and replace them with a more suitable pocket fabric someday.

The actual fourth dress I've ever made has been on my list of dream dresses to make since I saw the extant 1810s gown that inspired it. It took me a year to make and remake all the underpinnings before I could psych myself up to attempt the actual dress. It was a definitely a mistake to make it from cotton gauze instead of something with a tighter weave, but lesson learned for next time, I guess. And yes, I just about went insane from all the embroidery.

And now here's the fifth dress, which I just finished. It's a v-neck pinafore made from modifying the same pattern that I used for the blue silk dress. It fits like a glove everywhere except in the back, but this isn't a problem unique to this dress. All the dresses in my wardrobe that have a back zipper, including the one I got the pattern from, have this awkward bubble in the back when I wear them, so I think my pattern just needs a sway back adjustment for future projects. This was also my first attempt at pattern matching, and the results...could be better. But it's not too bad if you don't look too closely. Also, I'm glad that I made the bodice a little short-waisted. The fact that the waistband area ends just at the level of my lowest ribs means that the bodice will never crumple or wrinkle weirdly when I bend, because it's being worn against my ribcage instead of the soft, squishy part of my waist. And this time I learned my lesson and cut the edges of the v neck on the straight grain.

[patricia-von-arundel]

Not just fire emblem fans, fire emblem team too. It's so gross that pedophilia and grooming was put into the game and just accepted like that

It continues to pop up because societal trends have shown people find it acceptable to spend money on things that include it (whether they want it there or simply prefer not to see it). I don't know enough about Japanese societal norms to say anything about its inclusion, but I know Fire Emblem is certainly not the only Japanese game to push these kinds of boundaries. (The way Ken is dealt with in Persona 3 on the FeMC route has also been coming up again.) I don't know if such things keep getting put in because they're deemed acceptable by Japanese society, if they're put in because they bring in extra money, or if those involved in writing such things genuinely see no problem with them.

And note I am not disparaging Japanese society or cultural norms here - I simply do not know enough to have an opinion about how and why such decisions have been made and continue to be made.

What I do know is that I appreciate the translation teams now doing more to tone down, if not remove completely, the elements of romance between characters in late teens or adulthood and those who are pre-pubescent. (I say pre-pubescent as a general term rather than underage, since the concept of age of consent or maturity does differ between cultures. That's a very different kettle of fish that, again, I am not widely informed enough to comment on.)

I do not believe in censorship, except self-censorship (for instance, I will happily censor myself from watching Terrifier 2!). But I also don't think adjusting something along these lines is censorship: nobody is denying the original text. No one is being prevented from reading the script or playing in Japanese. But changes were made to be acceptable to an English-speaking audience, and they were a positive change (I feel). And much, much better than the heavy-handed have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too tactic we saw in Awakening (Nowi referencing her age repeatedly while retaining the body of a child, and what's more a child in the revealing clothing of a slave) or in Fates ("like the adult that you technically are" - "we've designed this character to look like a child, but look, one line says she isn't!"). And the societal norms I can speak of from personal experience - the ones common in the US and parts of Western Europe - could not justify a romantic attachment to an 11-year-old, nor telling an 11-year-old you'll wait for them to grow up.

(And again, I am not saying Japan would find this generally acceptable either. I am saying I AM NOT FAMILIAR ENOUGH TO KNOW.)

That said, I can't speak on the inclinations of the team in Japan, but I do know that something along those lines is not acceptable to an English-speaking audience. I do believe America, in particular, is weirdly prudish and puritan about sex generally, but that does not stretch to thinking it should involve pre-pubescent or pubescent children. Especially if it is presented as if it is a positive thing (compared to, say, something like Lolita or Gigi or Pretty Baby - and the last two come very close to uncomfortable territory anyway). Hence my saying something about the English-speaking fans decrying this decision, but not the team in Japan who originally wrote it (due to my own ignorance). Do I think 11-year-olds should be sexualized anywhere? Absolutely not. But that's a different issue. I am also very careful about tossing around the word "pedophilia," because it is a predilection that may or may not be present in either those writing or playing games where it is possible to romance or marry underage characters. I honestly don't think many of those complaining about this are actual pedophiles - as in, people who are primarily sexually attracted to children, whether or not they ever act on that predilection. They're people who have been driven into a frothing rage because they feel that localization changes mean something has been denied to them. That's not evidence of pedophilia, and using that word casually risks downplaying what pedophilia actually is, particularly those who act on it or create child sex abuse materials geared specifically towards those who would. No actual children are at greater risk of being harmed because of a video game script. So I'd avoid using that term myself. (I'm not saying none of those involved - in creation or playing - are not pedophiles, but rather, that using the current situation alone as evidence is both inaccurate, and risking the beginning of a slide down a very slippery slope. If you're truly worried about censorship, consider that such actions often begin with something like this, then snowball: see the Hayes Code, the Comics Code, etc). What is in the game does sound like it reflects grooming behavior, but it does not prove anyone involved at any stage is a pedophile.

If someone disagrees with the script changes, I wish them luck with learning Japanese. But as I play in English, and already have had difficulty in the past getting through some games that did retain things of that nature, I appreciate the re-write. What bothers me more is that many of those complaining about it seem to particularly focus on questionable elements being changed (like this, or like the drugging in Soleil's supports), but not actual problematic elements or plot points (like Soleil only being able to S-support men - many of the same people yelling about the support script changes defend those S-supports.)

In the end, I'm not going to toss around words like "pedophile" or "grooming." Those can ruin lives. And I see people every day also saying my sexuality is inherently predatory. I'm not a predator - I am an adult woman in a relationship with another adult woman - and I'm not inclined to assume anyone else is either. Not based on the evidence of a video game script.

So... that's my piece on it, I guess. Not sure how coherent it is.

[gamesbyalbie]

So, I started writing something this past week (inspired by DPR Ian's incredible music video for Don't Go Insane, and my feelings about [redacted]). This is all a work in progress and I'll be releasing it in sections. Anyways, here's the first part of...

The Cursed Journey

PART 1: PROXY

I don't sleep anymore. Anxiety and caffeine provide me with the energy I need to live and free up hours of otherwise wasted time. 

However—quite unfortunately—they've also stolen my ability to rest.

Most nights I lie in bed for 30-45 minutes but that's merely a formality, a tribute to a past life, a wish I'm certain will never come true. I get nothing from it—except for rare occasions where I stray close enough to dreaming to scrape up a bit of creative fodder—but it's one of the only things I do for myself.

Actually, it might be the only thing I do for myself.

It's not like I do it for long—I couldn't even if I wanted to (which I don't). It's just one half hour out of a full ass 24. Statistically, that shouldn't be the time when I get the most surprise calls. Yet, somehow...

"Fuck me. What now?" I growl, slapping my hand over my phone. It tumbles off the nightstand, because of course it does. A deeply dissatisfied groan rumbles out of my chest like distant thunder. Taking the sheets with me, I crawl halfway out of bed.

This is the third time this week. Who the fuck is it? I wonder, arms supporting my torso while my legs are still on the mattress, looking like I'm waiting for a wheelbarrow race to start. There's something degrading and weirdly primal about this position—stretching to reach my phone, grunting like an ape. I swear, if it's Michael, I'm going to—

The Ward

My blood runs cold. Shit. My arms start to shake. I slip down onto the floor and stare at my phone. It rings several more times before I finally gain the courage to answer. I press the button and a hologram of a woman's face appears. I recognize her and her bob vaguely—she has very distinctive bangs—but I can't remember her name. "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm calling for Ody Specter."

I can't tell if she genuinely doesn't recognize me, if she's being polite and pretending, or if she's following some kind of script. Then again, maybe I just look like shit. "You've reached them." I lean against the sharp edge of my bed frame. The discomfort clears some of the fog from my mind.

"Hi. This is Kelly calling on behalf of the Writer's Ward. Are you sitting down? I'm sorry to say that I have bad news."

That's all you call with, I want to reply. Instead I say, "What is it?"

"It's—"

"Is it Min-joon?"

"Oh, uh, no." She stammers. With how surprised she looks, you'd think I'd just jumped out of a wardrobe wearing nothing but a jester's hat. Probably the script then. "No, um, Mr. Park is stable as far as I'm aware."

The weight crushing my ribcage shifts. Nothing's alleviated, but it changes in nature.

"It's actually Kim Ji-yeon." There's a pause. "Mx. Specter?" Silence. "Did... did the call freeze?"

My mouth hangs agape. Less than two hours ago I was venting my frustrations and fears to Ji-yeon. She was comforting me. My brain cannot process this information. How? How could she— 

"Ji-yeon, she... is she there?"

"She's in transit to the facility."

"What? Uh, when? When did this happen?"

"Around 15 minutes ago." Damn, they move fast. Not that I should be surprised. This is their sole purpose and there's been no shortage of practice. "She made an alarming call to her editor. By the time emergency services reached her apartment, she was unresponsive."

How did the curse get her? Ji-yeon was the best of us. Of the few remaining writers, I would've picked her as the most steady, the most consistent and confident. Hell, she has two new books slated to come out next week.

Maybe... did I not see it? Could I have done something? Was it obvious? Min-joon would have noticed. No, shut up.

"I see. Um..." I rub the back of my neck while trying to force my eyes to stay open. I need coffee asap. "Okay. You need me to come down?"

"Yes, she'd selected you as her proxy. We need you to sign the onboarding documents for her. I believe you're familiar with—"

"Yeah, I'm well-acquainted with the process." Kelly's still relatively new. I'm certain I've done this more times than her. "When do you need me there?" I glance at my watch. 03:17.

"The flight carrying her is set to arrive within the hour. Can you make it here by then?"

"Sure." My fingers pinch the bridge of my nose. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting off an inevitable headache. "I'll be there in ten."

"Great. Thank you. So sorry to bother you, I know you're probably hard at work. I apologize if this is distracting or..." She probably means to say "puts you at risk" but she's smart enough to leave that unspoken.

"It's no problem. I'm," not happy. "I'm more than willing to do this for Ji-yeon. She would've done the same for me."

She literally would have. It occurs to me that I'll have to select a new proxy. Maybe I should just sign my own papers now. No, shut the fuck up. "Anyways," I tear my mind away from that disturbing thought. "I'll see you soon."

"Alright, see you. Thanks again."

End

My hand falls limply to the floor. The phone clatters onto the concrete. I allow myself a few seconds to stare into space, but I have no time to spare. That's more clear now than ever.

My knees crack as I rise to my feet. I'd been sitting weirdly at my desk all day. In general, yesterday was a bad day. I barely passed 15,000 words and Michael's already breathing down my neck. Almost a month has passed since my last big release. I've been worried, fearful that my well was drying up.

"You're too hard on yourself. Go to bed. Reset your brain."

Ji-yeon told me that. She's the reason I was in bed. Shit. She knew I was "asleep." Is that why she called her editor? Would she have called me if she—

I get dressed quickly. Forcing myself to stop thinking. Well, thinking about that. My mind turns to stories, to the words I'll have to write on the ride over, because I can't stop now. 

This... this can't happen to me.

I won't let it.

End of Part 1 of ? • NEXT PART

More Cursed Journey • More by Albie • Image Source

The amazing music video that inspired this:

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary146

2/7-8/2024

wednesday - thursday

off tomorrow, and tonight is my friend's birthday.

my friend, the girlfriend of my other friend. i'm not going though. it's just not a good time, i guess. i feel bad about it, like pretty bad, i hope she's having a good time, but too much is going on rn, scary or whatever, i need to keep everything stable for myself, if i don't work will get worse. i'm just nervous at these early stages, idk what i can really get away with.

anyway, i'm really in love with this music video:

it might be smarter than the song, it's a really good bit of filmmaking honestly, i love the script, the bit where the lusty cameraman goes "how many girls you been with," and the subject goes "a bunch..." and then the guy is like "lucky ladies," and the way the obvious lust and the subject interact, it's not a clear cut relation, there's a strange giving and taking, it's very dirty and weird, and the sadness passing over/through the man being objectified, it's so strange. it feels pretty unique to me.

did something weird, i just listened to the whole cocoron ost, i haven't thought about this game in a very long time. i discovered it because of eversion, an early internet horror game, it's like an nes platformer with BLOOD and DEATH and it's actually really cute and good, i think the game is super awesome actually, it really inspired me as a kid, when i watched a playthrough of it. anyway, that game lifts the cocoron ost, and i watched a playthrough of cocoron as a kid, i wanna play it now kinda, might be good. nes music rlly is cool, sometimes, they tried a lot of weird stuff, it makes sense a lot of people heard that and decided to make it like, grindcore/punk eventually, the noises are so piercing at times, it kind of begs to be screamed over, + the inherent sarcasm in doing that, and then it also sorta overlaps w/ the whitebelt stuff, weirdness of tones when creating music, weirdly colorful sounds for fucked up loud music.

for instance:

i've posted this before i think but this song is great, i love it so much. and i love the color. a perfect aesthetic touch point for me.

another fun one:

i also started looking at spritesheets tonight, just cuz it seemed fun, in the cocoron ost desc the uploader linked a site w/ sprite rips. reminds me of when i was ripping stuff out of ps1 and dreamcast games. i got a lot of stuff out of one game, sengoku turb on dreamcast, i should put some of that here, really cute artstyle i think, one of my fav looking games ever:

crazy looking game, i'm glad it has a sequel out there, also on dreamcast, they seem like pretty obtuse and random games, i miss the whole feverdream thing that could come out on consoles, illbleed, stretch panic is another similar game to me, even katamari on some level, though it's also way indebted to some other stuff, and killer7 is also in the maybe similar but i understand its particular history way better i think, the angura movement in japan offering a kind of springboard for the game's design i feel like, where it absorbs old forms and sticks them right beside the 'new,' as many of those plays had done, to channel something strange, to bring forth the negative and inconclusive, or maybe not inconclusive, just concluding things positivist works could not arrive at.

after finishing wiseblood i am unsure what to begin reading, i have discipline & punish beside me now, the foucault book, but maybe i need to stick with fiction, and just do agua viva by lispector. that might be good... we'll see. also quibbling over if i should try mixing a bit tonight.

also, we finally have real wifi, and it's like the old place, i am happy with it, it's pretty fast and stuff, so that's good.

all the videogame and nes music talk is making me think about how loud i've made the chip synths in my songs, and if i want them to be more prominent or not. it shouldn't be too big a deal, as long as they're there enough, you know.

now i am looking at closet child...dangerous, cuz i will get my heart broken over something i don't get but idk.. soon i really may be able to buy something, and then i will be sooo happy.

i am opening ableton now, i should do my night routine now and try and get the mix right quickly and just go to bed.

i did it, and there's just a couple things that i think i'll end up having to do to that song, cut some lows in the vocals, just a tiny bit more, and drop by 1-2b, raise the left channel guitar up by 1 db, and then maybe cut some of the low lows in the bass. that should do it on that song i think, but i might decide to just come back to it after the full listen w/ the rest of the songs to hear it in context. that leaves 3 more songs on this list, i should try and get them as right as possible, and then listen to the album, w/ some of the new songs i've got with vocals laid down, which there's a few, actually, and then i will see what i need to do, if any songs should be cut, anything like that, and if there's room for anything else. what there isn't room for, or even whatever there is, i need to go and write down the names of the project files i need to finish, just so i can mess with them sooner or later, maybe an ep of stuff i'm still attached to, and stuff.

but i am beat now,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[beaversatemygrandma]

Gonna void post for a second here. It's not bad at all. Actually pretty good.

It's insane to think about the progression of my current relationship. It Really Really is. Like, it feels like the thing where you meet somebody at the wrong time and then years later suddenly it's the right one.

Back in high school, it was just this casual school friend. I knew damn well he had a crush on me by junior year, if it wasn't already obvious in sophomore year. In freshman, he was just a weird guy in my science class who eventually started sitting with me at the lab tables after i moved to sit there because our classmates were annoying me. He just kind of slid in, we started doing projects together, then eventually started having lunch together every day. Sophomore year, we managed to have the same lunch period and I'd actually start going to his path towards the nurse's office as he always did before lunch and just meeting him there. Carried on through junior year. Even emailed each other over the summer. Somehow we got lucky and every year, even during junior year when we didn't have a single class together, we always had the same lunch period. He'd start meeting me on my path out of class and I'd just walk with him on his daily routine. That was the year that so many of our classmates would start asking me if he was my boyfriend. He wasn't. He was just some guy that i was close to and we'd spend lunch together talking about random shit the entire time. But that was also when the crush was getting Even More Obvious. It didn't hit me honestly until i started getting asked that. But then I just noticed the way he looked at me and always let me just vent off at him. He was attentive and caring. Literally better than any boyfriend i ever had back then. Somehow, something in me back then just couldn't see that for what it was worth. I was too focused on "not being one of the nerds" (like shit, look at me. I am one of them. I want my old nerd friends back and I'll damn well get them.) I stuck with this abusive jackass who is honestly a waste of damn air. The one who essentially had the classic "If you leave me I'll kill myself"TM abusive tactic. And fuck, with how he literally quit his job because "he wasn't getting enough time with me", it didn't even feel like a stretch.

I was stuck with that piece of shit boyfriend through most of our friendship back then. Senior year, he went off to be fully at the local college in dual enrollment and i was stuck at our high school because i didn't drive and my mom would never give me a ride anywhere, even if it was for school. Literally the year where I was alone through most classes. I made a couple odd friends who lasted only that year never to be seen again. Then again, i was forced to take THREE freshman electives that year, again due to the lack of transportation even though i already had the credits needed to graduate. Apparently I met his younger sister in one of them. She apparently remembers me from school. I saw a picture of her and genuinely i have no idea who she was. I get the weird feeling she was one of the girls from that 3D art 1 class who just had so much drama and a weirdly active sex life for a freshman. Always talking about her 21yo bf and his bullshit, while i just kinda listened, did art, and held back on telling her that she should break up with him. (I should've. Maybe she wouldn't have had a kid at 17. God, his sister is a mess.)

Anyways, I didn't see him again until graduation. I had honestly missed him the entirety of that year. Wanted to send an email, try to get his number, but i could just never do that. I always had that piece of shit ex basically breathing down my shoulder and basically cutting me off from my friends. (Hell, drama club would go to chikfila after club meetings and i went one day when my ex was wanting to have me over, and he CAME TO CHIKFILA. Basically invited himself into the situation until another good friend of mine told him to fuck off. Same guy who tried to give me a reality check at graduation.) But at graduation, i was wanting to hunt him down, finally get his phone number, just catch up after a whole year. But my ex was there. He was already mad about me having been talking to the guy friend who told him to fuck off at chikfila, thinking he was a threat (he wasn't. he just saw the red flags Real Quick.) Either way, the plan failed. I couldn't find him in the crowd and my ex wouldn't give me enough space to go searching. Didn't talk to this guy for years. Went through it all just wondering how he was doing. In 2019, i heard news about a guy who has the same first name from high school. I didn't know him by that name, but the nickname used by the neighborhood kids. He committed suicide shortly after graduation. I PANICKED thinking it was my guy. I asked my friend for the link to the obituary and immediately relaxed. It was the guy from my neighborhood. Still felt bad, yeah, but So Damn Relieved. Soon after, i got a switch and noticed that your friends from 3ds could be carried over. The time I had spent with him playing pokemon back then paid off.

Apparently, we spent THREE YEARS watching each other's online status to check in, both just anxious about actually reaching out. I watched as he played his usual stuff, a new mario game, whatever else. And he noticed that i was playing pokemon still. Somehow, the thing i introduced him to made him even more curious. Turns out, when Scarlet and Violet came out, he saw the online features and thought it could be a way to get in contact. Maybe switch online voice chat connection (it does not). He got the game hoping it would give him something there. And I'm glad he did. I noticed he was playing it a few days after i got it. I spent a good while looking through my old email just SEARCHING for the emails we sent back then. Grabbed the email from them and sent one, hoping that it was still active. He fucking responded in 20 minutes with his number. Insanely fast. I was texting him that night. We had literally been thinking that we lost contact entirely for that damn long only to suddenly have contact again after just THAT.

Spent time catching up, just texting between each other, playing the game together. Just eventually working up to texting damn near every day, to basically sending texts when we got up and went to bed, to HOURS of calls. I can literally talk to him for HOURS. DAILY. This goes on for a couple months, drunk me on new years started flirting with him which brought back that somehow-not-dead crush. About a week later, he starts asking about all that finally, just having the guts to even address what drunk me was doing. Then I'm there having a whole "Am I doing this because I'm lonely or because I actually like him?" for a good few months. Eventually, I'm having a night where my back pain flared up SO Bad. He stayed there texting me, just comforting me and making that bout something i could be distracted from. I think that was the point where i had the realization that I actually do like him. I actually wanted something between us to happen. This managed to encourage me to force myself to get what i needed to done. I got my license, formed a plan with my mom to get back into town. I got everything done. I set myself up to finally get my life started back up down there. Just the thought of having him around again managed to do that.

And here i am after problem, after problem, after more problems, FINALLY having a set plan to get down there. And Holy FUCK. This is a full blown actual long-distance relationship now. I'm MOVING IN WITH HIM NEXT MONTH. We've got a nice one bedroom apartment set up. He's been getting it cleaned up and furnished and even offered to pay for the move down there because the only thing stopping me is money at this point.

Agh The whole point of this is that i reached out at Just The Right Time. We've been through our few years of getting a better grasp on ourselves and the world and not being the cringy little shits we were back then. Just having that out of the way, everything just fell together perfectly. If high school me heard that i was literally dating this guy, they would flip shit and not in a good way. But currently, I'm very happy with this relationship. He really is attentive and caring. He's giving and really just does put communication ahead of everything else. He's not a bad person at all. I don't know why i was so against this back then. He really could've been perfect. Even if that didn't happen, it's happening now and oh my god, he's amazing. I've literally told him all the weird stories of shit that I've gotten into, just as a test to see if it would scare him off because those stories Really Can do that. He's honestly just amazed that I've done all that. I've gotten a lot of random experiences in, a few good, a good amount honestly a little traumatic. He's just listened to all of that and I really want to give him some of those good ones. I know that we'll be doing that. There's just so much potential for good here. So yeah, I love him. It's hit. I actually do. So holy shit. Still just absolutely reeling over the history here. We've literally known each other since we were 14. A whole ass 9 years. Given, yeah, no contact from 2017-22, but NOW? Oh boy. Now sure is something.

God. I can't wait for next month. I really want to be down there with him already. A whole place to ourselves and finally having time together after so damn long.

[dirkxcaliborn]

Weirdly specific asks (etc.)

chipotle order? I have a couple. My favorite is tacos with black beans, veggies, extra corn salsa, lettuce, and guac. Chipotle’s expensive and the tacos probably give you the least amount of food for the price though. If I’m being more economical, I’ll get a bowl with white rice, black beans, carnitas, veggies, corn salsa, and lettuce. That can usually stretch two meals for me lmao

thoughts on veganism? As a dietary choice I have no real thoughts. Why should I try to control what other people eat?? As a philosophy/movement... ehh... I only think it’s bad when people start policing other people’s lifestyles. Especially without regard for finances, health, culture, personal morals... basically ignoring the fact that it’s obnoxious to act like your way of life is so much better than everyone else’s and that they need to live exactly like you do... As for a more personal take, mmm it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. I personally prefer a focus on sustainability and humane farming. I think humans should seeks to be a part of the ecosystems they inhabit rather than exploiting them or cutting themselves off from them entirely. Hunting, farming, etc. aren’t inherently bad imo. The issue is greed and the prioritization of profits that leads to animal abuse and overhunting to the point of endangerment/extinction. 

a specific color that gives you the ick? Basic ass answer but it’s gotta be that yellowish green color that looks like puke. 

mythical creature you think/believe is real? Another really boring answer, but none :,) Not to say there’s not a single mystical creature that could exist... but more like I don’t tend to strongly believe (or disbelieve) unproven things. I’m more of a “maybe, maybe not” kinda person lmao. 

favorite form of potato? French fries fuckin slap... but not all french fries. McD fries are my honest fav. Generally though I love when they’re thing and crunchy. Gnocchi also really fuckin slaps. 

do you use a watch? I used to. I uh... kinda lost it though. I don’t really like the feeling of wearing a watch, so I would only wear it when I left the house, usually for work. I kinda had a bad habit of taking it off and leaving it places especially when it was dead and uh... yeah. I’m fairly sure it’s in the house SOMEWHERE but I have no idea where to look. I kinda really miss it though.

what animal do you look forward to seeing when you visit an aquarium? Hmm I actually haven’t been to an aquarium often enough to zero in on a particular animal. I like pretty fish tanks though, I’d say that’s what I’m most eager to see when I visit one. 

do you change into specific clothes for the house when you get home? Nah I’ve even fallen asleep in jeans and a hoodie lmfao I’ll usually change for bed, but idk I generally wear comfortable clothes. I don’t even wear actual jeans anymore... they’re like some kind of stretch cotton or smth

do you have a skincare routine (and how many steps is it)? my skincare routine is that when I touch my face and realize it’s all greasy, I wet my hands, wipe my face, rinse my hands until they no longer feel covered in oil and repeat until my face feels less gross. 

on a plane, do you ask for apple or orange juice? what? neither. I get ginger ale.

anything from your childhood you’ve held on to? Ah jeez a bunch of stuff. I still have the stuffed animal I got at my kindergarten graduation and some awards I won in school. I have a few things from my mom’s childhood like a couple stuffed animals and some books.

brand of haircare/bodycare/skincare that you trust 100%? Not really lol I’ve hopped between products a bunch. If something works well enough, I’ll usually try to stick that exact product but idk. Nothing that’d really make me go “I’d trust anything from x!”

first thing you’re doing in the purge? Hide in my closet probably and doomscroll social media lmfao. There’s no fucking way I’m leaving my house in the middle of a free-for-all. 

do you think you’re dehydrated? I don’t really know how dehydration works as a long-term status but I can definitely say I’m currently thirsty. 

rank the methods of death: freezing, burning, drowning Freezing, Drowning, Burning. The fact that you reach a point where you’re so cold it feels hot is just such an interesting one. Drowning sounds absolutely terrifying and like the kind of thing you would be very aware of right up until you black-out (which would take way too long and feel even longer subjectively). I hear burning to death is one of the worst ways to die, and I don’t think I’ll challenge that idea. It sounds pretty horrific from what little I know.

thoughts on mint chocolate chip? It’s one of those things that sounds like a good idea but in reality becomes too much very quickly. Also I kind of hate ice cream with chunks of stuff in it, so the “chip” part definitely drops it several degrees.

an anxious compulsion you do everyday? Hmm... I’m not sure and I’m already starting to overthink it so I’m just gonna skip lol

your boba/tea order? Standard milk tea with no toppings (aka boba) is probably the easiest since it’s available literally everywhere. If a place has jasmine milk tea though, I found out I fucking love jasmine milk tea. One of the local shops has a milk tea with cheese foam (it’s like a salted cream cheese foam and it slaps) and they top it with crumbled oreo and omfg it slaps. it slaps sosososososo hard. They didnt put oreo on it for a while and I straight up almost fucking cried when I tried ordering again and it DID have the oreo. 

the veggie you dislike the most? HMM... first thing that comes to mind is eggplant. I really wanted to like it but the texture is god awful.

favorite disney princess movie? Moana 100% 

a number that weirds you out? None really. I guess like big numbers that are slightly off? Like 3,500,001 Like it’s juuuuuuuuust off from a solid even number so it’s kinda unsettling. But I’m not that bothered I just don’t super like it.

do you have an emotional support water bottle? Absolutely. I was very particular in buying my water bottle. There were a lot of features I really wasn’t willing to sacrifice bc otherwise I wouldn’t use it lmfao. It had to have loop because I hate carrying it normally. It had to hold a decent amount of water (at least 24oz). It had to have a straw and preferably be lightweight and see-through. I generally keep it right by my bed.

do you wear jewelry? Nope. I had a necklace that was really important to me once but I think that’s the only time I cared enough to regularly wear any kind of jewelry. It was a character necklace though and I drew a lot of mm.. emotional support I guess? lol by having my favorite character with me all the time. That niche is currently filled by a keychain attached to my backpack though. My emotional support Kazuha Kaedehara. If I got my hands on a really good Nazuna charm,,, 100% I would keep that shit on me constantly

which do you find yourself using, american or british english? American. I’m American and it’s what I most frequently encounter and engage with, so it’s the most natural to me. Grey is better than gray though like 100%

would you say you have good taste in music? I like my music and that’s what matters most imo lmao I know a lot of people find it annoying though. It’s most EDM though I’m too garbage at genres to be any more specific about the kind of EDM I like. I really enjoy a lot of repetition though like in the lyrics when they loop lines? I love that lol

how’s your spice tolerance? Physically? Mid I guess. Emotionally? Horrible. I just hate the physical feeling of spicy food. The tingling, the running sinuses... the way those issue persist even after you stop eating? I just really don’t like it. I can eat something spicy, but if I can have zero spice, I’ll always go with zero spice.

what’s your favorite or go-to outfit? The same shit I wear basically every day lmfao. I have a favorite pair of pants (my uniqlo stretch jeans that I went back and bought extra pairs of), a favorite hoodie (my target zip-up that I fucking left on a cruise and had to desperately order online. forget my emotional support keychain I need this exact hoodie), a favorite long-sleeve shirt (that I have 3 of in different but similar colors) and a favorite pair of shoes (all black converse with pastel rainbow laces that I got from Daiso. I did in fact buy back up laces lmfao). Every time I have to deviate too far from this basic outfit I am so upset about it lol

last meal on earth? Hmm... one time my mom made this seafood chimichanga. It was apparently a nightmare to make and it took forever but we both agree that it was amazing. But she lost the recipe and we only ever got to have it that one time. So if I could have aaaaaaany meal with realistic limitations, I think I’d want to have that again. If I had to be more realistic mmm.... for appetizer I want one of those side salads you often get at asian restaurants with the ginger dressing.. maybe a miso soup too. Hmm. If it doesn’t clash then I’d say my favorite entree is chicken parmigiana, so I’d want to have that. A jasmine iced tea with lychee jelly to drink... mmm and idk if I’d want desert. I think that would be a solid round up of my favorites.   

preferred pasta noodle? Tri-color rotini!

[lvgvs]

Traces of the Past 

A Fate - The Winx Saga Drabble Characters: Sky, OC (Thelia Merricks) tags: friendship, childhood memories, monster attack, specialist training words: 1,092 to be continued: maybe

Eraklyon, five years ago. 

Mist rolls in from the ocean, pale fingers stretching over the mossy ground and the overgrown trees. Closer and closer the cold creeps towards them, dancing upon the wind like the first taste of winter.  It is not even autumn yet, but already the darkness grows with every night while the hours of light melt away. They are thirteen, lost in the woods but both to stubborn to admit it. And they should have been back in the warmth of their homes hours ago, the blonde boy and the red haired girl with the unruly hair. 

He grunts, trying to lift the log out of their way. And he fails miserable. She's going to make him feel that. Just like he made her feel every time she stumbled on the cliffside path. "You need to become stronger if you want to be a specialist one day. My father said only the best of the best get into Alfea." From the corner of her eye she sees Sky nod in agreement but as soon as she turns to look at him he is on his way already, expression stern, unreadable. Thelia wonders, has she hid a raw spot? After all she has heard, about Sky's real father and about Saul Silva she had simply thought it would be the most logical way for him. To become a specialist.  "You want to be one, don't you? A great hero, like your dad and Saul.", she follows after him, through the half-light of the forest, eager to not step on vines or roots.  The last thing Thelia wants is to scrap her knees even more - or gods forbid, seriously hurt herself. She has heard so much about Sky and his great future from her parents, being embarassed in front of him is the last thing she wants to do.  Maybe they could end up being friends. "I honestly don't know why that is any of your concerns", the blonde boy scoffs over his shoulder at her. Or not. Maybe they  won't become friends at all. "Or do you want to go to Alfea, too?", his voice is almost mocking her and Thelia can feel anger bubbling inside her chest. Who does he think he is?  "What now?", she quickens her pace to walk beside him instead of talking to his back, but the trail is so small there is hardly enough space for two, "You don't think girls can become specialists?" He shakes his head. "Of course they can. I just don't think you can. After all you fell how many times? Three? Four? You are way too clumsy." She had thought about attending Alfea. She had thought about becoming a specialist like her uncle.  But in all her years Thelia had never truly considered it. Never truly wanted it.  Until now, in this dark and tiny forest, walking beside this tall and conceited boy. Now she wants to. Simply because he told her she could not.  And then there is that sound again. This animal, this bird that sounds so much like a human scream.  They both stop, straining their ears to hear something in the silence that comes afterwards.  "We should hurry", Sky finally says, sounding weirdly out of breath, "We need to get back to the clearing before it is too dark to see."  She knows he is right. But she also knows that he is scared. So "What if it is not a bird?", is what she says instead of a reply, "What if it is truly someone in need of help? Or some kind of monster ready to kill us in our sleep if we let it sneak up to the house?" "This isn't some scary bed time story", and he's doing it again. Talking over her as if she's some little girl that needs protection. He might be bigger, but she's actually the one two months older.  "Well then there is no reason to not check it out, is there? I want to see this supposed bird of yours." And Thelia is on her way again, in the other direction, towards the screams, towards the darkness. Head held high, back straight. She knows he will follow her. After all this is no longer a game. This is a question of who will be braver. And she knows Sky of Eraklyon is not going to back down. Neither is she.

Alfea, now.

With one swift motion she rises out of the water, red curls now clinging to her face in thick and frizzy strands. Thelia is back up on the platform again before anyone can move as much as a finger to help her. And the anger is clearly painted upon her face.  "Do not let your emotions control you", Silva's voice is a warning in the distance, not strong enough to make its way through the fog already clouding her mind.  Riven smiles at her, smug and overconfident as ever.  It has been quite some time since he bested her and she can see in his features how pleased with himself he is.  Time to change that.  She takes off the wet shirt that is now more in the way than any kind of protection against his blows and she can see his eyes dart to that spot above her navel, to the three scars that run over her skin, still red and angry... like the wardrums beating in her ears right now. "One day you gotta tell me what that's about", Riven's sword dances through the air in fast circles as his feet begin to move around her again.  "Ask your roommate", is all she replies before charging again - right before Silva can call "Again." She needs no reminder that Blood Witches won't give them a break to catch their breath, needs no reminder of how it feels to have your body controled by something else, something ancient and magical.  As she charges at Riven - again and again - swords singing in the air, she spots a familiar blond head of hair and she does not need to break her concetration, does not need to look at Sky, to know he is thinking about that day again.  He's back in the woods.  Back in the dark.  He, too, knows what is at stake.  And it fills her with confidence.  Yes, there is a war looming on the horizon but her friends are well trained, her friends are determined. They will stand side by side. And they will get through this. Somehow. 

[salazarslytherin]

midnight rendezvous (b.w x y/n)

requested: yes! by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 [i love you arms your writing so uh anything w bill weasley. either smut, angst, fluff, etc. is fine, but could it be on the longer side. please and thank you, no pressure btw :)] send in your own request here

summary: where you and bill have a penchant for meeting in the night

part two here

🃛 masterlist

cw/tw: angst, smut AND fluff babes fem!reader, bill's kind of a dick for a part. sexual tension to the MAX doll. age difference (~6-7 years?) reader IS 18! jic anyone was worried. also i imply reader is short-ish? but in my mind bill is like 6’3-6’5 so he’s massive and like most people would be shorter than him

word count: 5.25k (so i heard u say ‘on the longer side’ and interpreted it as ‘i want a short novel’. hope this satisfies u doll, there'll be one or two?? more parts coming!!)

a/n: requested by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 . hope you like it! pls leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost if you did xx

☯︎ join tag list here

Being the best friend of the Weasley twins definitely had its perks. Spending summers at the Burrow, having a second family that was closer to you than your own, friendly banter that came along with the family.

However, there was an unexpected drawback that came with this.

A drawback by the name of Bill Weasley.

⚔︎

Although in the same year as the twins, you were a year older than Fred and George, meaning you had always felt a little more mature than the two pranksters.

Thus, you felt like you noticed things that the two of them never really noticed. Girls having crushes on them, boys being envious of them, the ways rumours would fly around about the three of you.

The main thing, however, that you felt the two of them didn't notice, was the way Bill treated you.

It wasn't that he'd always been like this. The first few years you'd known the man, he was very nice to you – familial and brotherly, much like the rest of the family had been to you.

However, sometime in fifth year, things changed.

⚔︎

You arrived at the Burrow with the twins for Christmas, ready to be welcomed by the family you'd come to call your own, but was left feeling hurt, weirdly hollow.

Every Weasley had welcomed you with open arms, except Bill. Harry, the only other non-Weasley around, was embraced heartily by the curse-breaker, but you were given a sharp nod, and nothing more.

Confused, you shook it off, moving to sit next to George, his arm wrapped around your waist as you snuggled into him. Fred landed on your other side, passing you a mug of hot cocoa as he landed a kiss on the top of your head, arm enveloping your shoulders with a tight squeeze.

Surrounded by the younger Weasleys as you watched Ginny, Ron and Harry play a game of Exploding Snap, you felt an intense gaze on you, looking up to see the four oldest Weasleys sat around the dining table, watching all of you.

You caught Bill's eyes, sending him a familiar smile, but was ignored as the man took a sip of his coffee, turning to look out the window instead.

Your hurt was short-lived as Fred leaned into whisper a soft quip into your ear, letting out a laugh, turning to relay the same quip to George.

The rest of the trip went similarly – every time you attempted to catch Bill's eye, to hold a proper conversation, he'd ignore you, or brush you off, pretending that he had something else to do.

The day all of you left the Burrow to go back to Hogwarts, Bill had even left the group before you could say goodbye to him, and you could only be left wondering, what did you do?

⚔︎

Now that you've graduated, you were relishing in the last summer you could spend in the Burrow as a teenager without the pressure of work hovering over you.

Determined to have the best time you possibly could with your 'family', your days were consumed by pranks with the twins, quidditch with the family, and helping Molly bake.

Yet, you still felt empty; a hole in the warm pit created by familial love, a hole marked with the name 'Bill Weasley'.

The cursebreaker was still actively avoiding you, for no known reason, and you stopped seeking out why a year ago. Instead, you sought to live your life with one less brother, one less family member to love.

Tossing and turning, you found yourself particularly restless one night. Not wanting to wake Fred, who was sleeping soundly in bed next to you, you got up, tiptoeing down to the kitchen to have a nice cool sip of water.

You'd taken to sleeping in the twins' room since the first holiday you were at the Burrow. Molly was against the idea at first of course, but was incapable of stopping the pranksters who managed to sneak you in night after night, insistent on having 'sleepovers' with you.

After the third night, Molly gave up, only giving you three a strict 'no funny business!' warning, before trudging back off to bed.

⚔︎

The dim lamplight from the kitchen illuminated just about enough for you to see your surroundings, having been around the Weasleys' long enough to know which boards to avoid so as to not have them creak and wake the family up.

However, what you hadn't taken into account was a body on the ground, hitting your foot into a blanketed torso, making you elicit a shriek, the unknown body on the ground letting out a muffled groan.

"What the fuck?"

You muttered a quick 'Lumos', pointing your wand at the person under the quilt, only for the fabric to be thrown aside, revealing a tousled Bill Weasley, sleep clouding his narrowed eyes as he massaged his abdominal with one hand, ruffling his hair with the other.

"Oh."

Realising that the man on the floor was, in fact, a Weasley, and not some thief who'd stolen into the house in the middle of the night, you dismissed the charm, lowering your wand and shifting awkwardly on your feet.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were there."

Throwing a curt apology at Bill, you moved off towards the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard above and wordlessly filling it up, intent on finishing your business as quickly as possible before heading back up to the twins.

"Pour me a cup?"

The deep voice startled you for a moment. At some point Bill had gotten up from his mound of pillows and now found himself stood behind you, his hand holding out a mug that had a 'B' painted on it, gesturing at the water jug you were holding.

Nodding curtly, you poured him his water, Bill thanking you before moving to lean against a counter, watching you from behind the rim of his mug.

"'m surprised you're down here."

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man in confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

He shrugged, downing the rest of his water before placing the mug down on the counter with a tad bit more strength than he needed. He stretched for a moment, arms pulled over his head to pull the sleep out of his eyes, shirt moving up with the movement to show off a slither of his toned stomach.

"You're always around the twins, never see you without 'em. Expected you to be, in their beds or something I don't know."

A protest spluttered from your throat, choking slightly on the water that you'd been drinking.

"I–what?"

The man lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

"Am I wrong? You've been in and out both their beds since you were firsties. I mean, it's not hard to guess what you're doing in there with 'em."

You huffed at the implications of Bill's words, putting your mug down with much of the same vigour as he had just now.

"First off, I'm an adult, and I can do what I please."

You were fuming, steam practically coming out your ears, and hearing the muttered 'clearly been an adult for a while' from Bill's lips didn't help.

"Second, even if I was sleeping with your brothers, which I am not, I don't understand why it'd be any of your business. It's not like we're friends or anything."

An odd, emotionless laugh came from Bill's lips, pushing off the counter to come stand over you. His tall stature forced you to stumble backwards, pressed against the wooden cabinets as he glared down at you.

"First off," Bill's deep voice was modulated up an octave, mocking your previous rebuttal.

"I am not saying your life is part of my concern. I'm concerned for my brothers."

A hand landed next to your head, pushing against the cabinet harshly.

"But second, you're practically a Weasley. It's my duty to look after you guys."

You laughed indignantly, looking away from the intense man to focus on his arm instead, as if studying the tattoos that covered his tanned frame.

"I'm sorry. It's your duty to look after me?"

You pushed him off of you, moving away with a huff, grabbing the two abandoned mugs to wash them with far too much tenacity, water splashing everywhere.

"Yes, that's what I said. I've known you since you were eleven – of course I have to watch over you. You're like family."

You rolled your eyes, giving up the facade of placidity as you left the mugs clattering in the sink, whipping around to face Bill.

"I'm like family? That's rich, William, truly rich."

Now it was your turn to advance towards the man, causing him to back up as your anger fueled you with energy, stomping dangerously close to his feet.

"If how you treat me is how you treat your family, I pity Molly for having you as a son."

Incoherent words left Bill's mouth in an attempt to argue further with you, but you didn't listen. Turning on your heel, you left the man in the kitchen, no longer concerning yourself with which steps to avoid as you stomped back to the twins' room, leaving Bill accompanied only by the dim light from the lamp, and the creaks coming from the floorboards.

⚔︎

After that infuriating night, it was no longer a 'hidden' fact that something was off between you and Bill.

While it had seemed that Bill used to be the one avidly avoiding you, the tables had quickly turned – you were now the prey ardently avoiding any encounters with your predator.

Any time Bill came into the room, you'd either leave, or place yourself as far away as humanly possible. During meals, you'd move yourself to sit next to Ginny, as opposed to in between the twins as you'd been sat for years, just so you no longer sat across from Bill. Even during quidditch, one of your favourite things to do with the whole family, you opted to sit out and stay in the twins' room or help Molly with the dishes, just to make sure you never had to interact with Bill.

Honestly, you weren't quite certain why the conversation with Bill had ticked you off so much. Maybe it was because he accused you of sleeping with your best friends, as if that was all you were good for. Maybe, it was because he had no right to insert himself in your life like that, to pretend like he cared about you in the first place.

It was clear he no longer wanted to be a part of your life when you were sixteen. You had no desire to welcome the curse-breaker back into your life now.

⚔︎

Three days after the midnight meeting with Bill, you found yourself restless again, unable to sleep.

George shifted slightly as you moved out of his bed, turning to cuddle with your now abandoned pillow as you slipped out of his grasp.

You decided to go for a quick midnight broom ride, hoping that the adrenaline rush and energy that you'd burn while flying would tire you out so you could finally fall asleep. A lot of the time you'd spent avoiding Bill turned into naps, which meant you were increasingly unable to fall asleep at night, disrupting your sleep schedule massively.

Cursing Bill under your breath, you creeped down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't be down there again. You didn't want to have to deal with the eldest Weasley again.

Thanking your lucky stars, you landed on the final step, noting that the first floor was empty. Hoping that the door wouldn't creak when you opened it, you ran towards the small shed out back, grabbing a random broom from it and got ready to fly.

"Y/N?"

You were already mounted on the broom and ready to kick off as that dreaded baritone resounded from the door.

You should have known you weren't that lucky.

Yelling a quick "Nope!", you kicked off and flew out towards the countryside, only looking behind you to see Bill standing in his sleeping pants, hands gesturing out at you in exasperation.

"Now how's that for some good ol' avoidance?"

⚔︎

Though you'd initially planned on flying only for a little bit, seeing Bill at the door really put a damper on your plans, making you decide to fly to a nearby watering hole the Weasleys used to bring you to.

Illuminated by the moonlight, you descended upon the grassy area, smiling at the way the water rippled in the soft night breeze.

Tranquility was what the scene spelt.

In a moment motivated by something you'd come to dub as 'Weasley Whims', i.e the reason the twins had gotten the three of you in trouble constantly, you decided to strip down to your underwear to take a dip in the cool water, abandoning your clothes and wand on a mossy rock nearby.

Taking a running leap, you threw yourself into the water, feeling, for the first time in three days, free. A laugh rippled the waters as you broke through the surface, swimming back over to the edge, only for the laugh to be stolen away as you noticed a shadowed figure land next to your broom.

Bill Weasley was here to ruin your night, yet again.

You let out a strangled scream of frustration as the man alighted from his broom, feet and torso bared to the moonlight.

Clearly, he, like you, had not bothered to dress properly for the impromptu flight.

"Why are you following me."

Your question held no semblance of curiosity, only frustration as you demanded an answer from the man. His answer did not come, only moving towards the water to kneel in front of it, looking down at you.

"Why are you running away from me?"

Wisps of his ginger hair fell forward, covering bits of his handsome face as the rest was carelessly thrown up into a short ponytail, clearly done to prevent his hair from falling into his face during the flight, a precaution that you'd forgotten to take.

"I could ask you the same. Only, it must be a bit harder to hide from someone when they're already hiding from you in the first place, hmm?"

You turned away from the man, diving back down into the depths of the watering hole to kick yourself over to the other side, wanting to do nothing more than swim away from the ginger, or maybe, have him leave you alone and fly back to the burrow, alone.

But of course, fate never let you have your way.

You turned around only to see the man had sat himself down cross-legged, body illuminated by the moonlight as it highlighted the tattoos decorating his forearm, the several scars that littered his chest a sharp white juxtaposing his tanned skin.

"I never ran away from you."

Your head fell back as you tread the water lightly, looking up instead to admire the stars that embellished the night sky, recalling fondly the astronomy classes you'd taken in the past two years as you focused on constellation after constellation, intent on ignoring the man in front of you, hoping your disregard would drive him away.

"Y/N, I'm talking to you."

The words drew a monotone chuckle from you, your eyes snapping to meet Bill's.

"Well that's a first."

Bill moved to stand up, and your heart jumped for a moment. Maybe he would finally leave you alone.

But yet again, luck never did seem to favour Y/N Y/L/N.

Instead of moving further away as you'd thought he would, Bill moved closer, stepping into the shallow of the watering hole, the water soaking the bottom of his pants.

Your eyes darted at the ripple of his abs with every movement, swallowing as your eyes darted to look anywhere else you could. You were not about to find this man attractive.

You could see him coming towards you in your peripherals, and moved back to face him, his pecs the only part of his torso above the water.

"You haven't spoken to me for almost two years, and now you've just got so much to say to me, huh?

Bill looked down into the water, nibbling on his lip as he looked back into your eyes, almost sheepish as he tried to answer.

"I–"

"You know how much that hurt?"

You swam closer towards him, your feet finding ground as you stood next to him, your shoulders bared to the world as you were no longer submerged.

"You were like family to me for almost five years, and then one day. You just fucking stopped. Stopped talking to me. Stopped joking around with me. For a while, you didn't even look at me!"

Your hands came up out of the water, gesturing wildly as you basically screamed at the man, Bill flinching slightly as the water splashed into his face, looking back down at the water again.

Ashamed.

"D'you know how fucked up that was? I had no clue what happened, why one of the people I considered family, one of my favourite people in the world, just fucking despised me all of a sudden."

Bill looked up at you in surprise at your words.

"And you know the worst fucking part?"

Your voice suddenly fell to a hush, almost a whisper as a tear welled in your eye, prompting you to shut them as your head tilted down, urging your breath to slow down.

"The worst part, the worst part was that I thought it was my fault, that it was something I'd done to drive you away. I blamed myself for ages, didn't know what I said, didn't know why you hated me."

"Didn't know why you'd never like me back."

The last part was said in a true whisper, barely audible despite the silent night.

Yet Bill still heard it, and his breath hitched in his throat, eyes searching your face as a tear escaped you, rolling down your cheek.

Unable to restrain himself, Bill's hand darted forward out, cooled by the waters you two found yourself in, a blatant contrast to the warm tear as the pad of his thumb wiped it away.

You flinched away from Bill, feeling vulnerable for the first time that night, coming to the sudden realisation that you were clad only in your underwear, your unintended confession drawing heat to your cheeks as you moved away from the man.

"I, I was afraid."

Bill's own confession halted your movements, making you turn back around to look up at him, confused.

"I–, how do I say this. I was ashamed of myself."

It was now Bill's turn to feel vulnerable, his unease making him shift in the water, the water rippling around the two of you at his movements.

"That winter when you came back here, when you turned sixteen, I started seeing you as more than family. I– I found you attractive, and I felt disgusted with myself."

You huffed, disbelieving of the words you were hearing.

"I'm being serious Y/N. You just, grew up over those few months, and just came back different, somehow. I felt like a predator, I was twenty-three! You were still a kid, and I, I just didn't know what to do anymore."

"I wasn't a kid!"

"Of course you were! You were still in school, I'd been working for five years, I couldn't live with myself feeling like that. I didn't know what to do, so I just, distanced myself. Hoped that the feelings would go away eventually, then I'd just, go back to being normal."

Your eyes scanned the ginger's face, searching for a speck of a lie, a pinch of deception but only found uncertainty, attraction and lust dusting the man's face.

"But you never stopped..."

Your breath stopped for a moment as your eyes met.

"Are you being serious?"

His breath fanned your face as both of you instinctively moved closer towards each other, more of your body exposed to the world as you came further out of the water.

"As serious as I could be Y/N."

Your breath was taken away as Bill leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours, strands of ginger hair falling to tickle your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

A breathless whisper fell from Bill's lips, prompting you to nod in assent, the man falling to capture your lips before you even finished the move.

Sparks flew in that moment, the man's lips gliding over yours as he stole your breath away. You pulled apart after a second, before your lips fell back together again, insatiable in your desire to taste each other.

Bill's tongue teased you, mouth falling open for his teeth to graze at your lower lip, making you gasp such that your lips fell open in the same way, his hand moving to cup your jaw. Taking advantage of your momentary shock, the ginger slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of you as you moaned into his lips, pressing your chest against his.

The water waded around you as Bill's left hand moved down your body, fitting snugly under your ass as he muttered a soft 'jump', which you obliged.

Your legs wrapped around the man's hips, Bill walking the two of you onto the soft grass, muttering a charm against your lips before placing you down.

Instead of feeling prickly blades of grass on your skin, a soft blanket had appeared, making you smile, pulling away from the man.

"Quite the romantic, Mr Weasley. Know how to treat a girl right don't you?"

A deep chuckle sounded from the man who hovered above you on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip at the sight of you.

"Only the best for my girl."

Your heart leapt at Bill’s words; were you his now?

Not wanting to dwell on it, to overthink this moment of passion, you pulled his lips back down onto yours.

His girl.

⚔︎

The moon hung high in the night sky as both your hands explored each other, frantic, as if it was your last day on Earth and you only had here and now to envelop yourselves in each other.

The pure animalistic need that pulsed through the two of you allowed no time for foreplay, fingers hooking into the soaking fabrics that clung to both of you.

“Can I?”

Bill fingered the waistband of your underwear, thumb brushing your hip bone with motions feather light, wildly disparate from the way his lips devoured yours hungrily.

One act designed to ruin you, the other almost afraid he’d break you.

“Yes, I need you.”

You deigned to show him just how much by hooking your own fingers into his waistband, soaked pajama pants pulled away to reveal his boxers, clinging to his muscular frame.

Bill responded by undressing you with much of the same vigour, moving to pull your underwear down to your ankles, his pants in very much the same state, gazing down at your soaked private with lust clouding his vision.

“Next time,” he breathed out onto your glistening lips, “I’ll make you cum with just my tongue.”

Your breath hitched at his words, no, his promise, of a next time as Bill made his way back up your body, peppering kisses on your exposed skin, his hard-on grinding against your leg as he moved up.

The cursebreaker’s deft hands unhooked your bra expertly, sucking in a breath as your pert nipples were revealed to him.

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

Bill moved to unclothe himself fully, before you stopped his movements, his hands already pulling at the waistband around his hips.

“May, may I?”

He nodded as you sat up, eyes glazed as he studied your body, memorising the way your breasts glistened in the moonlight. He would make it his mission to mark them, to show anyone who came near you that you were no one’s, but his.

You hooked your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down to his thighs at an almost agonising pace as every part of Bill was unveiled to you, standing proudly in the light.

“Are you... a virgin?”

The man above you asked as it dawned upon him. He was really about to have the girl he’d been craving for.

“No, I’m not.”

His jaw clenched at your admission, the thought of someone else’s hands on you ticking him off, before pushing it away.

It didn’t matter. You were with him now.

He nodded, coming back down to kiss you as one hand braced him by your head, the other reaching down to pump himself slowly.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, eyes falling closed as you immerse yourself in him.

Bill’s knee nudged your thighs apart, moving himself so he was lined up against you, hand brushing his cock up and down your lips, causing both of you to shudder.

His head dipped into you, your tight heat causing him to hiss, pausing for a moment to savour the feeling before pushing himself in fully, stopping only once he’d bottomed out.

“Are y’okay?”

You bit your lower lip as Bill moved away from you to scan your face for discomfort or pain. His girth, while not quite painful was definitely bordering on pain, your walls stretching as he filled you entirely.

“Yes, just, one second.”

Your hands gripped his neck, lacing your fingers through the tresses of his hair as you adjusted around him. As the pain receded, you nodded, a silent signal for the man to move.

He carefully pulled out of you, then pushed back in slowly, hands landing by your head to brace himself, testing the waters whilst both of you moaned at the feeling.

“Faster.”

Bill obliged, moving to thrust in and out of you at increasing speeds with each movement. His hips snapped against yours at a speed that could only be described as vicious, eliciting sounds that defiled the tranquil nature you were surrounded by.

You were breathless as the man thrusted in and out of you, his movements only capable of drawing pants and whimpers from your mouth, the activity rendering you a simpleton who knew only two words - ‘Bill’ and ‘please’.

Your climax soon drew close, a coil tightening with his every sound and every move, your body notifying the man above you by the clench of your walls around him, the motion drawing him closer to his own orgasm.

“Are you close baby?”

A nod was all you managed as you threw your head back, Bill’s tip brushing against your g-spot edging you even closer to your precipice.

One of Bill’s hands moved down your body, landing on the bundle of nerves above where the two of you met, rubbing figure eights onto you, making you let out a gasp of surprise as the older man helped you move closer to your orgasm.

His movements didn’t falter as your moans grew louder, seeming instead encouraged by the promise of your climax, your moans growing loud and unabashed.

Each pant of his name made the man groan in return, moving both his fingers and his hips so ferociously that your breasts bounced with each thrust, your back sure to be red and chafed in the morning from the friction against the blanket.

But you didn’t care - the only thoughts you were capable of manifesting was how good it felt to have Bill inside you, how this was the one thing you’d ever needed to feel full, how he never stopped in his stimulation, the way his mouth felt on your nipples - sucking on the skin of your breasts, a reminder that would last of this fleeting night.

As Bill stimulated you with his cock, his fingers, his mouth, you couldn’t hold it in any longer - and you could tell Bill was reaching his breaking point as well - you let out a moan that would awaken the sleeping birds in the tree nearby, a scream of “Bill” that would leave the twins wondering why your voice was hoarse in the morning left you, legs trembling as you released around the man.

Yet he still never relented.

As you rode out your orgasm, your cunt throbbing, Bill never faltered in his actions, hips thrusting into you as he bit into your neck softly, intent on marking you for all to see as his cock twitched inside of you.

With a moan that you could only describe as sinful, yet angelic, a sound that would haunt your dreams and bless your nightmares, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, Bill came into you. Hot stripes of white liquid coating your walls while his thrusts slowed to a stop.

Getting up on trembling hands, Bill hovered above you, exiting you in a slow movement that had you whimpering at the sudden emptiness, your eyes still shut from your post-orgasmic bliss.

Lips pressed onto your forehead, as if Bill was savouring something he didn’t want to lose.

Something you didn’t want to lose either.

⚔︎

The flight back to the Burrow was silent, the two of you side by side as you flew through the wilderness of Ottery St. Catchpole.

When you landed, you looked out onto the nature around you, Bill landing almost immediately after you.

In the distance, you could see the sun readying to rise in the East, colours bleeding into the sky that had been pitch dark save for the spattered stars hours ago.

“Did you regret that?”

The man standing beside you asked after a moment of silence, not daring to meet your eyes as he appeared vulnerable, afraid, feigning an interest in the rising sun.

His muscular arm was what you were faced with as you turned towards him, his tall stature casting a shadow over you. You eyed the red marks you’d left on him, the little reminders scattered on his shoulders and back.

“No. Did you?”

The cursebreaker turned to face you, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched you, scanning your face for the umpteenth time that night.

“Of course not.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, drawing Bill’s gaze down towards them, a small smile telling you he was admiring the slowly darkening marks he’d left on you.

“Then why’d you assume I would’ve?”

He caught his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing on it absentmindedly as he shrugged.

“I dunno. Just assumed you wouldn’t have wanted that with an older man or somethin’, I s’just worried, s’all.”

You inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh as you reached out towards the man, cupping a hand on either side of his chiseled jaw, making him look into your eyes.

“Bill, that was my decision to make. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I wouldn’t’ve done it. It’s not your place to decide for me whether I wanted it.”

You leaned in to capture his lips in yours; this time deepening the kiss on your terms, slipping your tongue into his mouth and savouring his taste.

Cinnamon, with a hint of mint and tobacco.

You pulled away, tracing your lips to the sweet spot under his ear, sucking softly before turning to whisper in his ear.

“I wanted it, and I’ve wanted you for longer than you could have known.”

part two out now x

[jiminrings]

Hey bb! First of all, let me just tell u how much I love your writing! You're fabulous, love. Don't ever doubt yourself. Secondly, I wanted to know if u could do a college professor! Jungkook and pretty student reader where Jk is absolutely enamoured by her.. (also, with a bit of the good ol smut🤭) It's a-okay if u can't tho! Just know that you're appreciated!❤️

the probability of us

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 6k

glimpse: jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories. 

notes: there’s something so warm about this request that it made me write it as an actual fic and not a bullet one!!! i did alter it a little bit but i was genuinely so happy writing this so thank you sO much for this babe :D // gif from pinterest!

Jungkook, in his better and most definitely unbiased judgement, thinks he knows enough about you.

He knows you well enough to have noticed your patterns and habits with almost everything in between. They were predictable for the most part, and that was partly because he takes pride in being observational, but you manage to unintentionally throw him a curveball every now and then that makes him smile.

You always come into class when there’s atleast fifteen people in it and Jungkook wonders if you know it in the back of your head or if you just sneak a peek at the room every now and then. He’s not keen on being early to classes, and on the three straight occasions his dad left something in the classroom from the day before and got him to retrieve it for him, you were already there.

You’re fixated and practically attached to your knitted cardigan, seemingly having no problem wearing the same outfit for days straight — something so both adorable and visibly heart-racing when it’s almost always a tank top underneath that’s on the lower scoop, and a rotation of pants and sweats that sometimes feel so misplaced with your cardigan that it matches.

Jungkook’s found out that you probably wear atleast three rings on a daily basis, and that only took him two days to figure out because you’d exit the classroom with slight marks and indentations on your cheeks or on your jaw. Whether it’s to being sleepy, being bored, or being focused is something he has yet to discern — but yeah, he looks at you with his eyes silently when the class is dismissed, wondering if he’d see the same Pandora tiara ring mark on your cheek, or this time from a signet ring you sported more often.

He’s eight weeks in doing whatever this is. Whatever having the definition of him trailing behind his dad, a back and forth between his classes and his office, then them eating out for lunch break.

Sometimes, Jungkook forgets that his dad’s the president of this very university. 

He’s only really known him as dad and he’s grateful for that, and the only times he’d see his father as the educator he was with the fancy doctorate degree was whenever Jungkook’s been a little lacking in his studies as a child up until high school. His mom, a doctor, would be on duty for nights and at home for mornings so that’d be the window she’d teach him the alphabet and addition with the carrying, something that eight-year old him would tear up just at the mention of.

His dad would just sit beside him in a very calm manor, take out two notebooks for one of them each, and make reviewers. Jungkook writes down what he knows and what his dad tells him to, highlights the key terms, and for some totally odd reason, making his own reviewers saved him from failing altogether and become an honor student with little help from his parents and most especially his dad.

It humors him that people are so rigid and intimidated by his dad, and he knows that not everyone would believe that this is the same guy that taught him how to give someone a proper wet willy. Jungkook sees people left and right going out of their way to greet him and pay their courtesies, stifling in a giggle that his dad also fights the need to laugh.

He loves and looks up to his dad, feeling a lot more thankful that he has a healthy relationship with his parents as an only child. Jungkook feels he owes that much to his dad that he took education for his college course, despite his blatant lack of interest for it.

And here he is — a senior at another college his dad’s not the professor of, studying a degree that he’s not gonna practice, and shadowing his father for eight weeks while he goes and teach for the “experience” as his dad calls it.

This has got to be a little ethically questionable, but that’s okay. Jungkook takes some comfort knowing that his dad’s the boss and he could just sit in a chair, pretending to absorb his lessons. In fact, he doesn’t even know why his dad opts to teach still even if he’s well high up in that ladder, the only explanation being that his father just really really likes teaching and not just be moving between airconditioned offices and meeting rooms all the time. And if that was enough, his dad just had to teach two classes to which Jungkook needs to accompany him in both — Statistics and English Literature.

Jungkook has a memory of stone that’s probably of the same kind the Code of Hammurabi was inscribed in (because he just swears his memory started way earlier than the age of four), because he practically knows everyone in each of his dad’s classes.

Eight weeks in. He’s only known that long.

But Jungkook knows for a fact that you’re never late — that much he knows. He refuses to believe that you’re actually gonna be late to class. 

His dad comes in early and normally, he sits by his chair just when he’s a minute away from starting class. For some odd push today, he felt the need to enter the room with his dad and be early for once; but for the one time that he did this, you weren’t around for it.

You’re late, and you’re never late, and you’re throwing him a curveball, but something tells him in his gut that this just wasn’t something you pull out of your cardigan sleeve to confuse him.

You’re confusing.

You’re never usually confusing.

He visibly straightens in his seat when you enter the room with a sense of complacency and without the need to rush, the class only in the quieting down stages before the lesson begins when you walked in.

Mr. Jeon’s flickered to the entrance briefly, his tinkering with the HDMI cord continuing nonetheless. “Kook,” he just barely manages to get out because he’s already standing up from his seat, nimble fingers grabbing a slip from his desk that makes his dad perplexed.

Jungkook walks all the way to you at the back of the class, holding out the late slip to you a little too eagerly as it seems, and you can’t help but feel confused and irritated at the same time with how you started your morning.

For starters, coffee was spilled on your cardigan from the night before, and soaking it overnight in a mix of detergent, softener, and the tiniest bit of bleach wasn’t enough to completely rub the stain off — which meant you had to get up extra early to have it dry-cleaned (the staff looked at you a bit weirdly) and head off to where you needed to be, in a rush.

“But I’m not late though.”

You murmur as you peer up at him, refusing to even take the slip in between Jungkook’s fingers. He turns impatient, even more-so at your retort that honestly sounded genuine, that he settles on dropping it down your desk.

“You are, Y/N.” He says as convictedly as he can, only having to glance sideways briefly to your nosy seatmate to keep him out of a conversation he clearly isn’t a part of, and you make a note in your head to apologize to Jimin who gets scared easily, especially by the president’s son.

As if to prove his point, Jungkook rolls the sleeve of his bomber jacket in the slightest, enough for you to see a glimpse of his flashy gold Rolex in an attempt to tell you the time, one you couldn’t decipher because it was analog and your eyesight’s not that quick-witted nor clear.

“It’s three minutes before the start of the class,” you make it a point to outstretch your forearm, one that isn’t covered by your cardigan as he now realizes, your silver and digital Casio telling him that it’s 9:57, indeed three minutes away from the start of his dad’s class.

He barely even blinks before he adjusts himself to stand between your stretched legs so he could hold your arm and adjust your goddamn watch to be set four minutes later, his movements done so quickly that you straighten your back to the seat.

Jimin pretends he’s looking away, but deep down you already know that he’s gonna ambush you with questions as soon as Jungkook leaves.

“See that? You’re late,” he hums contentedly, pushing the late slip towards you and stands by himself with his hands across his chest, all-knowing that he wouldn’t leave not until you comply with his stupid request for a late slip.

His dad sees the interaction unfold from a distance, still confused but somehow amused, and a curious smile appears on his face as he now has something else to bring up on the dinner table later.

After all, he only called out to his son to tell him that they should go pick up a few groceries over lunch break — not to give you a late slip.

Jungkook collects the piece of paper from you wordlessly, letting his hand linger for the briefest moment but you pay him no mind, too occupied to looking at your left and gesturing for Jimin to scoot closer.

Something’s wrong.

His instincts are not exactly the most accurate but after all, it does account for something. He’s not the best at reading people when they’re indifferent, and normally you’re never indifferent to him. 

He decides to lay low at that, sitting back on his chair and only twirling the slip in between his fingers and not once setting it down on the desk, preventing himself to look at it.

It’s only when his dad calls him to do a summary and explain to the class about his lesson’s breakdown, and he turns stern when he crushes the paper within his palm for the sake of being indiscreet that he totally wasn’t fiddling with paper for an hour and a half.

Jungkook returns and that’s when his dad starts giving out final reminders for their next meeting, straightening it out as much as he could until he can see your messy handwriting more than he could see the creases.

Tutored Hwang Hyunjin; state quizbee next week.

And why, exactly?

As far as he knows, Hyunjin’s the faculty’s favorite because he was such an intelligent student. He might be the favorite of his dad but he’s not entirely sure because his dad says he doesn’t like playing favorites, but he seems to think so nonetheless. If the guy who’s in the line-up for summa cum laude is asking help for a mere quizbee, what exactly is it for?

You’re an honor student, sure. In the dean’s list and in the running for cum laude, but you’ve said it yourself that you’re no Hyunjin and in verbatim, anyone who takes education as seriously as he does needs a hug and an emotional support system. Do you see yourself doing all the extra credits when you already have the highest average on all of them?

Did you hug him?

Jungkook scoffs to where his mind is running, a little dejected as he ponders on it even more as he stands next to his dad’s desk, nodding curtly at the students who bid him goodbye.

He’s extra quick to stepping up when it’s you who passes him, hands on his pocket as he asks under his breath.

“We cool?”

He tries to search for a hint of distaste in your face and he’s almost disappointed to find none, a genuine small smile on as you reply and come out the door without so much of a look back at him.

“‘Course we are, Mr. Jeon.”

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

“What’s up with you?”

Jungkook utters the moment the door of your apartment swings open. It was straight to the point, really. No buttering up to you and no unnecessary bullshit before he drops the question that’s been plaguing his mind the whole day.

You had only been brushing your teeth when you hear a series of crisp and heavy knocks that led you to think that your neighbor Hoseok next-door has finally screwed up the pooch completely, and accidentally set his kitchen on fire with the cookie batter he’s been doing a series of trial and error with for a dozen times already.

Oh.

It’s only Jungkook, then.

He doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned being out in the hallway that gave everyone an opportunity to see him. Frankly, everyone who’s set foot to the president’s office, which is everyone, could tell who he is simply by looking at the few hundred picture frames Mr. Jeon has on his desk. 

He’s not concerned and he doesn’t have the gall to be concerned either, because as much as he knows that although underneath his dad’s section, the housing section of the college wasn’t under his close supervision. Besides that, he finds that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this.

Jungkook only looks up to you for a few seconds, wide-eyed with your toothbrush in your mouth, and decides to let himself in.

This being yours and Jungkook’s interactions for the past eight weeks. There’s not a label to it, but it goes along the lines of the occasional fuck, and then the ranting about each other’s days, and binge-watching that either ends up as hook-up, or trying to pick up new hobbies the other’s just suggested, or whatever’s playing is actually playing and the two of you just watch, your head laid on his lap and his hand brushing your hair.

Yeah, that one. Whatever that’s called — that’s what you and Jungkook are.

It’s been painfully obvious to your tight knit of friends, namely only being Jimin and Hoseok, that those things practically yielded to the commitment of him being something that starts with boy and ends with a friend, no spaces in between and all in one word.

You blink away your internal monologue, remembering that you need to spit before replying to his question that he’s asked you point-blank two seconds ago.

“You saw me in class today.”

That one couldn’t be anymore obvious and he huffs at that, once again going on a grumpy fit of frustration while he lies on your bed upright, arms across his chest. “Off,” you swat his leg immediately, making him haphazardly throw away his shoes if he want to keep being frustrated with you.

That’s the exact bit though. Regardless if you forced him to take off his shoes while he’s on your bed, he’d be frustrated at you regardless. He doesn’t know why he’s frustrated with you in the first place and that just makes him stressed even more.

The realization hits him that Jungkook doesn’t really know why he’s so pressed about you, his tone considerably softening because now he feels a little smaller under your curious gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. I clearly know that. I, uh, I meant outside of class.”

Normally, he’d find your avoidance of things actually endearing because you seemed to worm your way out of any situation you just deem to be unrelated to you — but for the first time, he doesn’t know if you’re avoiding his question. If this was still your passive-aggressiveness or genuineness showing its head right now.

“You’re starting to sound like a professor, y’know,” you note with intrigue, relishing to how Jungkook lying on your bed and looking at you under such intensity seems normal to you at this point and at this moment. “A professor hanging out with his student outside of class, in her dorm, and on a weekday.”

The comment you add was supposed to be humorous but you find it rather odd now having said it out loud, the realization dawning on you that whatever this is, is just too ambiguous and vague that you’d never wanted something so specific in your lifetime.

“Just trying to appease dad. Do I look like I have the patience to teach a class, better yet show up?”

That’d be the actual bane of him.

Don’t get him wrong, professors must be so cool and patient with their workload and stuff, but holy fucking shit does he hate it for himself. He means no disrespect to his dad but he honestly can’t see himself doing what he does, even for a fraction of his life willingly.

You sort of envy him for the upbringing he has and the wholesome and healthy relationship he has with his family that you wouldn’t mind telling people all about. Not everyone expects Jungkook to be as family-oriented as he looks, and the little nugget of information he made you privy too puts a gentle smile of your face.

“You do have the patience to ask me if I’m okay though.”

It’s a question between reeling yourself in and putting yourself out there more, plopping to sit on the edge of your bed as you try to put lotion on your legs all the way down to your heel.

Jungkook finds it normal to see you putting lotion on and zit cream on your face, and he doesn’t question it for one second.

That doesn’t automatically mean that he’s gonna address it though.

“Well, baby, are y’okay?” he crawls the short distance from you, putting half of his body weight as he slings himself on your shoulders from behind, lips brushing against your ear as he pulls you tighter.

“Mhmmm.”

He finds it that as much as he pulls you tighter, you grow a bit more distant. You’re there with him but your mind isn’t, perhaps lost on the lotion that only adds into your scent that seems engraved in his mind nowadays.

Jungkook does as much as to tug a sleeve of your shirt to expose the slightest bit of your shoulder blades, pressing wet gentle kisses that leaves you, surprisingly, unfazed.

You make no move nor action, just continuing on rubbing your arms with your hands and him taking the momentary act of silence to look around your room, seeing your textbooks piled neatly on your desk with your lamp on.

“Long night?” 

He asks and not a second later do you hum in confirmation, making him roll his eyes and his stomach churn, but it probably just has something to do with a heartburn that’s beginning to form because the ache’s spreading to his chest.

It’s got to be heartburn, right?

“Alright. Didn’t have to answer me too quick just so you can kick me out.”

He mutters underneath his breath a little hurt, taking your responses as his cue to leave. His flair for what you think is the dramatics makes you roll your eyes and slap his thigh, following him out on the way to the door.

Jungkook’s fazed because he doesn’t exactly know the essential purpose plus his expected outcome of this five-minute visit. He doesn’t have a clue, but dropping to your apartment unannounced and seeing you for just even five minutes, even if he doesn’t know why, doesn’t seem wrong.

What is wrong, is that you’d normally kiss him goodbye.

This time, you don’t.

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

Jungkook’s gut tells him to come early to class, even telling his dad that he’d come down there by himself so he could scope out his class like the great son that he is, and he does exactly that.

Some of the early-birds are pleasantly surprised to see him there, early and alone without Dr. Jeon, sitting on his usual chair.

This setting’s odd for him and as much as he wants to leave, he doesn’t feel the need to. He doesn’t really care if he’s intimidating the students because after all, that’s not the reason why he’s here. In fact, he’s aware that he seems to be quite the talk of the campus, the verdict being half and half if he was as fun, easygoing, yet stern like his father — or if he’s something else entirely. Either way, none of them could catch on to the fact besides you that he’s not here out of passion, but rather obligation.

There’s less than thirty students in the room but Jungkook could just feel it at the back of his spine that you’re gonna walk through the door soon enough. You’ve got to be, right? Jungkook stands by himself near the door, practically barricading the door with how he’s built.

This familiar guy he can’t put a name to is walking through the door carelessly, eyes completely fixed on his phone that his shoulder’s barreling into Jungkook’s.

“Oh hey dude, what’s up?”

The guy in question barely even looks up for a second, a meek smile on his face before turning to his phone again and just staying there by the door, a character paused to block it all for a fucking text as what it seems.

Jungkook barely needs a second to look at him eye to eye; tall, pale, long blonde hair, and smooth pronounced features.

Hwang Hyunjin.

He’s only seen him in passing but never on this scale, his first instinct being straightening his back. They’re roughly the same height, Jungkook shoving his observation to the back of his head that Hyunjin’s only a millimeter higher than him.

He’s probably the only one applying pressure to this scenario, thick brows furrowing as he almost grimaces looking at the younger guy in front of him.

“Are you in this class?”

What?

Hyunjin’s confused to say the least, not only because this random dude he bumped into is suddenly making conversation with him, but because someone’s actually questioning about his presence here.

He lowers his phone, putting a pause to his heated exchange of which installment of this series they’re watching this, all in the favor for staring at this guy who’s cowling at him.

“... Yes?”

His answer even sounds unsure, Jungkook’s questioning raise of his brows prompting him to explain.

Hyunjin doesn’t even know why he feels compelled to explain but he does it nonetheless. “They say I could sit in this class. Some topics would show up in the quizbee next week.”

That’s just grand.

Before Jungkook can simmer in his irritation even more, his dad slips through the door by holding his shoulders in place, looking between the two of them briefly before walking to his desk.

“Kook? Thought you’d open up the lesson without me.”

Blondie tilts his gaze, eyes narrowing as he tries to scan a Kook in his brain’s directory and why it sounds so fond coming from Dr. Jeon.

“Mmmm, sorry dad.”

Jungkook emphasizes a little more than needed, turning to him and sending him a half-hearted grin while unbeknownst to him, Hyunjin pales and is having a breakdown and a half.

Did he really just accidentally bump into the college president’s son? Is he gonna be expelled now?

Jungkook’s oblivious to the inner turmoil that’s unfolding in the guy in front of him, crossing his arms before looking at his dad once more.

“Is he allowed here?” 

He questions sharply like a toddler who’s just seen an inconspicuous man by the swing, his cheeks rounding with his lips pursed.

His dad’s really confused because this is the most intrigue he’s seen Jungkook inhibit for the whole eight weeks.

Of course his dad knows; he’s more than aware that his son has literally no interest in being a professor, and honestly speaking, he’s not even mad at that. He’a outsmarted him on this one and just went along with the lengths of hi son trying to impress him, falling into this eight-week routine of them bonding together with little practice teaching, yet Jungkook still wonders where he got his wit from.

He looks back and forth between Jungkook and Hyunjin, perplexed because he’s pretty sure that the two of them don’t know each other and that doesn’t explain the tension lingering.

“Hyunjin? Yeah. President’s lister, right?”

Hyunjin grins and chuckles at that, bowing slightly as he just passes Jungkook that appalls the latter.

“You put me there, sir.”

Jungkook mocks him under his breath, not going unnoticed by his dad who just chuckles all the same. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he lies right out of his teeth, sitting on his chair and spreading his legs until his dad nudges him to be atleast decent because he wants the students to focus on his presentation and not his son’s crotch.

He feels cursed having such clear vision because even when the lights are dim, Jungkook still finds his gaze looking for you out of habit. Cursed for seeing Hyunjin sit on the other side of you and suddenly he wishes that this would be the time that Jimin interferes.

He’s unsure if you’re making him confused or he’s confusing himself, but the way his head feels like splitting just by thinking about you and what he could’ve done wrong tells him that he should be definite.

“Would you mind wrapping up the lesson, Mr. Jeon?” his dad asks outloud and for any other context, they’d share identical smiles on how they should be professional towards each other (as suggested by his dad) during class.

“Not at all, Dr. Jeon.”

God, he’s so oblivious to see how he has everyone gravitating towards him that it’s actually endearing. You sitting all the way up gives you a front-row seat to see how everyone sits up a little straighter and how heads follow his every move.

Jungkook has everyone wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know — you’re everyone; he can’t know.

He steps up to the plate and the natural dominance and hold he has on everyone broke through, a lesson about statistics never being this intense and a large majority of the people would really stay for another hour and a half if it’s Jungkook who’s teaching.

He’s so absorbed into summarizing as a way of destressing that he ended up giving perhaps one of the best makeshift lectures ever, his dad positively awed and ending up even more confused.

Jungkook’s coming down from his lecture high, nervously fiddling with his fingers as his dad gives the final reminders. What doesn’t help is also you coming out of the classroom with Hyunjin in tow, wearing your cardigan, and that’s what considerably sets him off.

Suddenly, he now decides that your cardigan is the ugliest and most disgusting piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s the furthest thing from adorable, and the nearest thing into being set on fire.

You still smell sweet and homey when you’re nearing him, and the realization that your cardigan’s tainted by the smell of you and soon enough, Hyunjin will — it hits Jungkook too hard that he mutters under his breath, his jaw lax from being clenched.

“If you have a problem with me, just tell me about it.” 

He can’t find the will in himself to care whether or not Hyunjin’s gone on without you and is waiting for you by the corridor, or that his dad’s arranging his shelf and could be possibly listening.

“I don’t,” your face reflects the same thing as your answer, devoid of any uncertainty that you have a problem with him.

“You don’t?” he prods further even if he knows that asking the second time wouldn’t even help.

“I don’t. Do you?” 

There’s no malice in your tone. It’s the same gentleness laced with mischief underneath, head tilting in question.

That’s when he narrows his eyes at you, always knowing how to play your cards right without him knowing.

“With you or with myself?”

You shrug carelessly, an automatic giggle tumbling out of your lips that it bothers you too because you shouldn’t be okay with pulling yourself away from Jungkook, and the fact that it could be because you made peace long enough that the two of you will never be more is something to blame.

“You tell me, Mr. Jeon.” 

He’s never hated his family name more and the formality preceding it than now. In reality, he’s just a year older than most of you in this class and the last time he’s checked, no one calls their senior, despite being from another university, like that.

Everyone assumed that he should be called with respect because after all, they’re probably looking at the future of this institution anyways. 

Stable breaths aren’t enough and Jungkook seems to despise the way your slightest change towards him affects him the most, and his pride over not reaching out to your first has long been gone since.

He figures that this is just your way of detaching from him because his eight weeks are almost up, and that he should be totally fine with it because after all it’s only been eight weeks.

He can’t see another eight weeks of you pulling out from him, and even worse, eight weeks without you.

“We’re not cool.”

Jungkook says as soon as you open your door, not waiting for you to gesture him to come in. In any other situation, he’d find you adorable having traded your contacts for glasses, and absolutely sexy if his blood’s rushing elsewhere besides his cheeks. There’s no introduction of asking about your day nor catching you off-guard with a kiss either. 

It’s him going straight to your bed and lying upright, looking at you somberly that you feel sorry you’ve been establishing this change in the first place.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

His question is a complete 180 from his voice that’s been gravelly since morning, sincerity underneath the rough edges.

You shake your head no, a signal that there’s absolutely nothing wrong and you don’t have anything to tell him about.

“Are you sure?”

He looks at you with wide reassuring eyes just begging for anything, atleast something, the only time that he wishes there’s something wrong going on so he could chalk it up to that instead of facing this shift with you blindly and aimlessly. 

You’re wordlessly climbing up on bed too, making him automatically scoot over to his side of your bed when he stays overnight, instant warmth welcoming you just by having your shoulders touch with him. It’s a head nod of yes, I’m sure that there’s nothing wrong with your eyes closed. 

Being beside him is the equivalent of all the comfortable nights you’ve slept. Jungkook’s the ultimate compilation and the most expensive goodie box of warm hugs and warm tea that tasted familiar instead of incredibly earthy. He’s white noise and eight-hour loops of rainfall against your windows and humidifier-goodness of sleep that you take indulgence and warmth in.

Jungkook’s in another realm of thought when he almost snaps at you because your roles have been reversed and it’s him who’s doting over you.

“Are you usually this non-committal?”

You’re always warm with a cherry on top when you talk to Jungkook, and just only two days of you giving him timid replies has him asking you if you’re the opposite of the adjective that people most commonly attached to you.

“I think we both know best that I’m loyal.”

You are. 

It’s a word that’s almost always attached to your name. You’ve never really sustained a large group of close friends, and it wasn’t needed, but Jungkook finds it funny that you’re oblivious to how people look at you.

He’s well-acquainted with what goes around, and the only things that go around about you was that you’ve touched them in one way or another. You’re the most loyal friend Jimin has because you’ve stuck with him even if he’s spilled his guts on your bathroom floor, missing the mark of your toilet bowl. You gave up your bed for him and tucked him in even if he was still at risk of throwing up because he just couldn’t stop, and made him breakfast the next morning. You’ve only known each other for three days.

Hoseok considers you his most loyal neighbor slash friend ever, because you let him have a go at your pantry even if you knew at the back of your head that he’d screw up something in his recipe one way or another. Even started buying extra ingredients whenever he needs them, and him purposefully forgetting that he has brown sugar at the back of his cabinet.

You are loyal, and that’s what he sometimes hates about you too because it makes you more vulnerable. A little too easy to trample on. A little too easy to have you cheering for someone from the bleachers when they’re still on the bench.

Jungkook wonders if you’re loyal to him too, and if you were (which he’s sure of, and there’s no denying it), would you still be even if he feels like the two of you are growing apart?

“Then why do I feel that-“

He sighs in exasperation, head turning to face you and he’s greeted with your finger outstretched, digging in to where his dimple would appear.

He could look at you properly this time because he’s not in a rush asking if you’re okay. Eyes glazed looking up at him underneath your glasses, scrunched nose with the cutest smile and all that he wants this to never stop.

“Hey.”

You whisper in a rush all of a sudden, a toothy grin fading steadily when your thumb comes to rest on his cheek, whole hand soon pressed to it whole that Jungkook finds himself leaning.

“I’m in love with you.”

It comes out of you fluidly; no baited breath and no hesitation at all. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, actually. Not once did you think that you’d ever tell Jungkook you love him in this way, or ever for that matter, but it’s something that materialized out of thin air.

It’s as quick as a passing thought and as stable as a core memory, reiterating what is only a truth instead of a confession.

There’s no sadness in your gaze and no distrust either, but the smile that stretches on your cheeks doesn’t look as giddy.

He’s a little cross-eyed with how close you are, but Jungkook audibly whimpers when you pull away suddenly and out of the bed altogether, picking up your laptop from your table.

You don’t know what you’re doing either, but you could only hope that it looks as natural as it seemed, wanting him to know that your sudden realization that you need to make a twenty-page essay in size 12 font has nothing to do with your profession of love.

“But I know I shouldn’t, and besides, it’s a conflict of interest. Anyway, let’s just end this here now and-...”

“Are you insane?”

Jungkook exclaims in punctuation marks and of deep urgency, looking at you as if you suggested the most ridiculous thing ever after what you’ve just said, which you exactly did.

“Just continue loving me!”

He says it as the most obvious thing ever, his chest feeling an odd sense of relief after having blown up with emotion. He’s a sponge at this point in whatever relationship the two of you have. He’ll take what you can give, but this was something Jungkook would run to hell and back for to not take from you.

“You didn’t even ask if I loved you back! And that’s my honest answer, not something that would appease you when you return the question.”

He looks a little softer around the edges at the moment — arms flailing around and hair bouncing as he keeps moving his head. 

His cheeks are puffed out when he’s angry and his lips are red from trying to get his point across strongly, stammering with what more he could think of in his head.

“It’s not a conflict of interest either! I only shadowed my dad to please him, but we both know that I don’t want to become a professor like him. You just think that it is because you’re up on the seats and I’m down on the podium!” he’s heated and his cheeks are warm and there’s no way it has something to do with your airconditioning.

“It’s a stint. It was a literal eight-week stint for free, because he’s the president for god’s sake — that’s it! I go back to my university in like what, a week? And they don’t even need me passing requirements, because they already know, again, that I’m the son of a university president! Honestly, it’d be stupid of them to.” 

Jungkook feels like he’s gonna pass out with how overwhelmed he is. Too overwhelmed to the point that he doesn’t see you smiling out of the corner of his eye, hand rubbing down the length of his nape to his back.

It’s only then that you realize that he’s rambling and his voice is wavering, concern dripping down from you instead of amused laughter.

“Y/N, please, it’s convenient — more than convenient. I graduate this year, and you next year. The last thing I’d do in my life is grade papers. You know what I want to be? I wanna be-...”

Jungkook’s cut off with a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth that’s grounded him, blinking twice to look at you.

He should really kiss you right now.

“You could’ve condensed that into a single simple sentence,” you snort when you pull away from Jungkook’s hold, sending him a look of faux disappointment to which he whines. “It’s called I love you too, Jungkook.”

He squints at your teasing but reasons just as quick, sneaking in his head underneath your shirt to escape from your teasing and importantly, press a gentle kiss to your chest, then your boobs, and settling to lie down on your stomach as he’s content.

“I was panicked!”

Jungkook’s certain that he loves you, laughing to himself when he heard heavy knocks against your bedroom wall that just conveniently happens to be adjacent to Hoseok’s.

“Fucking finally! I was about to flirt with either of you just so you could cut to the chase and admit it to each other!”

Your laugh is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, coming out from hiding underneath your shirt and just laying on top of your clothed tummy, hand looking for yours to hold on to.

You’ve been sleepy the entire time, he’s figured. You having switched to your glasses meant you’ve already had your night shower, and only had three hours maximum before succumbing to your bed. You’ve had a long day clearly, and it’s when you’re starting to succumb into sleep right exactly where you are that Jungkook suddenly remembers.

“You know what I want to be? I wanna be-…”

“With you.”

“Mhmm?” you all but mumble, feeling him adjust your head on the pillow while he lays on his, literal weight being lifted off from you.

Jungkook feels even more endeared if that’s any more possible, the tiniest boop to your nose and the softest kiss on your forehead.

“I wanna be with you.”

[fandom-imagines]

Escape Artists

Fandom: Halloween/Slashers

Pairing: Michael Myers X Reader

Warnings: Murder, mention of parental abuse, lightly-written smut (not too descriptive).

Words: 2.4k

He had seen her around the hospital numerous times. She was always sat surrounded by those weird beads that she made designs with, only to have to hand them to one of the nurses who always seemed glad to iron the pattern for her.

Despite having seen her and observed her, Michael had never actually interacted with the girl. Sure, she was interesting, seemingly too innocent to be sat in Smiths Groves, but he wouldn’t talk to her; he wouldn’t talk to anybody. This was how he lived. Day in, day out. Never talking to a soul and nobody willingly talking to him. That was how Michael liked it which is why he couldn’t help but be irritated by the person who was interrupting his mealtime.

“Hi,” in front of Michael stood the bead girl, nervously fiddling with her fingers. “I-I made this for you.” Before he knew it, Michaels hand now held a beaded blushing panda.

He was tempted to snap the poor thing in half, and he would have had he not felt a piece of paper stuck to the back with the crappy tape the sanitorium provides.

“Don’t look yet, look when you’re alone.” She said, leaving with a short nod.

He listened to her words, going to the bathroom, the one place he was allowed to be alone, to read whatever note was scribbled on the paper.

Do you want to escape with me, Michael?

Confusion overtook his mind, the creaking of the tiled walls being the only thing he could fully register.

Not only did she know his name, but she also wanted to escape with him?

Weirdo.

He simply shrugged it off.

*

“Morning, Y/N,” a kind nurse awoke the young girl from her peaceful slumber, something that was rare for her. “Here is your medicine.”

“Thank you, Nurse Green.”

Her small hands grasped the bottle of water they provided her each morning, spare hand now filled with the medication she took daily before gulping down all nine of them with one mouthful of water.

Yesterdays interaction with Michael still plagued her mind.

She knew what he had done to his sister, everybody did, but still he was the only person she somewhat trusted her. Not that she had ever actually spoke to him of course, even though she was exceptionally kind to all those on the ward. She simply hoped he had read the note.

*

Lunchtime came round quite quickly, Y/N refusing to part with her beads and Michael nowhere to be seen, something that wasn’t uncommon.

Her fingers picked out another green bead to add to her new creation, a soft smile gracing her lips as she fit the final bead into the pattern, creating an amazing leaf. She looked up with a smile on her face, ready to show the nurse only to be met with Michael face, head tilted to the side.

“Oh,” she spoke quietly, evidently shocked at the older boy’s presence. “Hi, Michael.” Her kindness didn’t falter however, the shocked look on her face quickly forming back into the smile she wore previously.

Michaels hand reached out to grab the box of beads, pulling it towards him along with a square pegboard. He quickly got to work making a pattern, something that was done in mere minutes, pushing it back towards Y/N before leaving, not sparing her a single glance as he went back to his room.

Confused, Y/N pulled the board towards her. On it was a perfectly designed tombstone, yet it was masked as a grey brick, something Michael knew the nurses wouldn’t pick up on, only someone that was looking or expecting it would. However, beneath the board was a small slip of paper, something that caused her Y/E/C orbs to widen, quickly yet carefully sliding the paper into the pocket of her knitted sweatshirt.

*

“He what?” Loomis’s voice was loud, booming throughout the office. “He interacted with another patient?”

The nurses were unable to tell whether he was scared or happy at this news.

Michael had never interacted with another patient before, never interacted with anyone at all so this was a big surprise to him.

“Leave this to me,”

*

Yes.

This one word was floating around Y/N’s mind for the entire night.

He wants to escape with her? Michael Myers wants to escape with her? It was something she could not refuse, so she got to writing.

*

Over the following months the two shared notes through the beads they would both make. Nobody had spotted this yet, the scheme too smart for the nurses and doctors alike at Smiths Grove. Loomis had been keeping a close eye on the pair, looking for something significant that he could use against Michael but there was nothing yet, nothing at all.

The girl was sat at her usual table, alone for once which was uncommon for her. She wouldn’t have been alone had she not told the usual people that she wished to be alone today.

She was waiting.

Waiting for Michael.

A small sense of glee filled her chest when she noticed him walk into the cafeteria, a small smile following suite. The smile only dropped when he ignored her presence, walking towards where he usually sat. He must have sensed her gaze, glancing up to catch her sight before glancing at the chair opposite him, a silent hint for her to come over which she gladly did.

“Hi,”

Michael didn’t give her a verbal response, something she was used to by now, he instead looked towards her hands that held her most recent pattern: a pink milk carton. She eagerly passed it to him, watching him closely for any sign of reaction as he observed it, the two unaware that somebody else was also watching him.

*

“I want you to cut all communication between Michael and Y/N,” Loomis seemed to have come up with a plan of his own. “We’ll see how he reacts to that.”

“Yes, Dr Loomis.”

*

Y/N sat at the desk in her room, spinning the board around the wood with her finger.

“Why am I stuck in here?” Her tone expressed how fed up she was of being confined her for the entire day. “I’m bored.”

“Why don’t you make something?”

“Why am I here?”

“A doctor wants to see you.”

“I’ve seen all the doctors. Which one?”

“Dr Loomis.”

Oh, so it worked, good to know.

*

A few hours later she was seated on her bed, legs crossed with her pigtails falling down to her knee.

“We’ve met before, Y/N. After you were first sent here.” Loomis did his best to be friendly, hiding the burning curiosity and urge to ask her everything he wanted in one go.

“Yes, Dr Loomis.” Her tone was friendly, also forced.

She was waiting. Waiting for-

An excruciating loud beep blared throughout the entire ward, signalling a door had been opened by one of the patients.

Loomis’s eyes widened, worried that it was Michael who had escaped. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye before rushing off, forgetting to lock the door on the way out, something the pair had planned.

*

Y/N had half expected their planned escape car to be gone by the time she had finished running to the door, Michael probably having using her to escape. Weirdly enough, he was sat there waiting for her, something that made her smile as she hopped into the car.

Their plan, something that had been in the works for an insane amount of time, had worked. Every part of it had gone how they had planned.

“Thank you,” Y/N’s voice was as soft as always, glancing at Michael whose eyes were focused on the road, seemingly dismissing her appreciation.

He wasn’t however. He was silently grateful for her. She had stuck by him, his quiet and rude self. She knew what he had done and had still accepted him, he could see it in her face. He assumed she was simply in for depression or something of the sort, uncaring as to why because all he cared about was leaving and finishing what he had started, but something about her drew him in and he began getting somewhat attached to the girl.

*

The pair drove for hours, having to stop by to get gas before pulling into an abandoned place far away from the main road so that nobody could find them.

“Do you want a drink?” Michael gave her a confused look as she sat on the car, hand stretched out to hand him a bottle. “It’s weird you know,” she continued speaking after he took the bottle from her hand and sat beside her, “I never thought I’d make it to adulthood.”

This further proved his point of her having depression.

“Not that I’m depressed or suicidal or anything. I just thought I’d die by now.” This simply confused Michael. If she wasn’t in there for depression, what was she in for?

The nights sky hung over the pair, stars being one of the only things lighting the place, supported by the car’s lights.

Y/N seemed to sense his confusion.

“Oh, you don’t know what I’m in for? Well, was in for.” Michael simply shook his head.

“I killed someone. My dad. He used to hurt me, physically, mentally, emotionally and a few other things. My mother just watched it all happen, so I tried to kill her as well but she got away and I was dragged there.”

Michael nodded as to show that he understood.

“It’s weird. When I was younger, I always thought I’d be a popular eighteen-year-old with a boyfriend, a lot of friends and all that stuff. I never thought I’d be here,” her gaze fell on Michael, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if I am a virgin.” Y/N made sure to finish her sentence off with a joke, hoping to ease the tension she felt whilst expressing her emotions whilst continuing to stare up at the sky, oblivious to the thoughts running through Michaels head, his face not showing any signs either.

Y/N jumped at the cold sensation of Michaels hand touching her bare thigh, goosebumps rising beneath her dress. “Michael?” She turned to face the unmasked man, only to be pushed to lean against the back of the car with attempted gentleness. “Michael?” She repeated, growing even more confused as he lifted himself over her, able to feel her heart pound.

She didn’t fear him, she had never feared him; he’d never given her a reason. Sure he could be rude towards her, but never fear-inducing, never to her.

“Michael?”

Her words were silenced as Michaels body crawled onto her own, his chest pressed against hers, both hearts racing, despite Michael’s calm composure and Y/N’s confused look. Her eyes widened as she felt Michaels lips against her neck, roughly sucking with such force that she knew it would leave a mark.

A soft moan left her lips when Michael’s hand wandered down to her chest, lightly toying with her nipples before grabbing her breast, massaging it as he did so. The moans that left her lips simply increased Michael’s urges, his desires; he wanted her, and it seemed like she wanted him too.

“Michael-“she murmured, fingers looping themselves in the strands of his hair as he nipped at her skin.

Her free hand ran down his front, searching for his clothed erection which she soon founds, enjoying the breathy moan that Michael made as she slid her hand into his pants. It was quiet, but not quiet enough. Michael’s own hand reached into her own panties, finger soaking up the wetness that had formed at his touch, something that almost made him smirk.

Another moan fell from Y/N’s lips as Michael’s fingers began to explore, the tightness she felt was almost too tight, yet Michael was surprisingly gentle considering who he was. This time Michael couldn’t resist his smirk, being thankful for the fact that his face was buried into the crook of her neck, marking her as his and his only.

Her grip on his hair tightened as he slipped another finger inside of her, giving her a moment to adjust before slowly moving. It wasn’t long before pleasure began to consume her, grip tightening on his hair further as she neared her end.

“M-Michael,” she moaned. “I want you,”

He seemed happy to comply, fingers leaving her heat to unclothe his member. He waited for a moment, searching Y/N’s eyes for any sort of hesitation before sliding in, giving her time to adjust.

“I’m ready, you can move.”

His movements were slow to begin with, giving it his best attempt at not hurting her, something that was incredibly hard for his rough self, but self-restraint can be a magical thing. It wasn’t until the word ‘more’ left her lips that he finally increased his movements.

The cold of the cars metal caused shivers to run down Y/N’s spine, made worse by Michael’s cold hands running across her, now bare, body as moans filled the air.

“I-I’m close,”

Her words only increased his movements more, desperate to reach both their ends. Michael’s hand moved down to her clit, harshly rubbing in hopes that in would held her meet her own release, which it did and she came with one final moan, her sudden tightness triggering Michael’s own orgasm as he came inside of her, their juices mixing together.

Cheeks flushed, both Y/N and Michael wordlessly laid against the car’s windscreen. Deciding to test the waters, Y/N leant herself against Michael’s shoulder, silently pleased when he showed no sign of rejection.

He was surprisingly warm, heating up her cold body in the cool night’s air; she never expected him to be so warm. She lightly wrapped her hand around his upper arm, snuggling herself into his shoulder before falling asleep.

Michael stared at the sleeping girl, confused and shocked at how she had so much trust in him, despite what he had done. It was oddly reassuring to him. Once certain she was asleep, he raised his hand to move a stray strand of hair from her face before falling asleep himself.

“Goodnight, Y/N,”

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 3

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 2

Next →Part 4

Never before had you dreaded something more than you dreaded arriving for work the morning following your incident with Keishin. More than anything, you hoped he was thoroughly pissed at you and had left for work early that day so that the two of you wouldn’t have to see each other, but much to your displeasure and horror, when you stepped into the store that morning, he was sitting at the front counter, waiting for you.

How was he not pissed at you after what you had said to him? 

When the sound of the front doors sliding open filled the otherwise silent building, leaving the keys in your hand useless as Keishin had already unlocked the store, you gripped the keys tightly and swallowed hard when he looked up at you. He didn’t say anything at first, maybe because he was waiting to see if you would make the first move, but after last night you were done making first moves when it came to him.

Averting his gaze and dropping your head low, you shoved the keys back into your pocket and headed for the back room to put your stuff away and get this day over with. 

Just as you were about to open the door to the back room, Keishin cleared his throat and you stopped in your tracks, head turning to look at him without thinking about it. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” This was the very first time he had greeted you first, and on top of that, the very first time he had ever used your name. 

You weren’t sure how to respond, confusion and excitement mixing in your body to create an overwhelming concoction. “Good morning,” you mumbled in response before disappearing into the back before he could do anything else out of the ordinary, like God forbid initiate a conversation or something.

You took your sweet time getting ready, delaying heading out to the front of the store as long as possible to give Keishin ample time to leave. After about fifteen minutes or so, you emerged only to find him sitting right where he had been before, newspaper sprawled on the counter and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Shouldn’t you have left by now?” The questioned slipped past your lips before you even had the chance to filter it through your head.

Eyes wide, Keishin was surprised that you had spoken to him almost as much as you were. “We’re expecting a big delivery today, so I’m sticking around,” he answered. “You’ve never handled one by yourself so my mom asked me to show you how it’s done.”

Your heart sank, your stomach twisted, your knees felt weak. So he was going to be here with you all day long? “Perfect,” you groaned, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your tone. “That’s just awesome. Great.”

“Listen, it’s not my idea of an ideal day either, but it is what it is,” he said. “So why don’t we just put last night behind us, chalk it up to exhaustion and the influence of alcohol on my part, and move forward?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, the fact that you couldn’t seem to figure him out thoroughly starting to irritate you. “How are you not angry at me?” you questioned him. “I was . . . horrible last night.”

You had spent the entire night after getting home thinking about the horrendous way you had behaved. The things you had done and said made you feel awful and you couldn’t understand how Keishin wasn’t on the brink of smacking the shit out of you right now.

“It’s fine.” He flashed a smile, trying his best to prove that he wasn’t dwelling on the past. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

Looking around to double check that the two of you were the only ones in the store, you lowered your voice before speaking. “But I put my hands on you. You can really just forget that?” Heat swelled in your cheeks as you recalled the less horrible events that had taken place.

“I touched you too,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, but yours was an accident.” You weren’t sure why you were saying all of this stuff; it was almost like you wanted him to be angry at you. Who knows, maybe you did. “I called you a burnout.”

Keishin let out a booming laugh at that. “Take a good long look at me, kid.” He smirked, gesturing to himself. “You really think I’ve never been called worse?”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” you breathed out.

Keishin opened his mouth to speak, but before he let a word out, he changed his mind and pressed his lips together. In the meantime, he watched you, the cogs in his head obviously working hard. “You’re an odd one, you know that?” He stood up, walked over to you, and set a hand on your shoulder. “I said it’s fine, so just forget about it, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, finally giving in. 

“Good. Now, get to work, because this place isn’t going to run itself and I’m only here to help with the delivery, so until then, I’ll be napping on the couch in the back. Wake me up when the truck gets here.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Keishin gave you a pat on the head and disappeared into the back room without another word.

You stood in place for a moment, unsure if the fact that he had forgiven you so easily was a relief or not. You didn’t allow yourself to worry too long about that though, because, like Keishin had said, you had work to do and the store wasn’t going to run itself. And, if your memory served you correctly, you had some sweeping to do in the back corner.

For about two hours, you fell back into your normal workday routine, completely forgetting about the events of the previous night or the fact that Keishin was napping in the back. That was, until you saw the delivery truck pull up in front of the store and remembered you had been given the task of waking the sleeping man. 

Heading into the back, you moved slowly and quietly even though it didn’t matter if you woke Keishin since that was what you were supposed to do anyway. 

“Keishin,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. “The delivery truck is here.”

Of course, he didn’t even budge at that. Nervously, you stepped closer to the couch, unable to ignore the fact that Keishin looked completely different when he was asleep. The usual frown or cocky grin he sported was nowhere to be seen and he didn’t seem as intimidating when his eyes were closed and his breathing was so slow and rhythmic. 

“Keishin.” You reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder like he had done to you earlier and shook him slightly. Still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you were unsure what to try next aside from shouting right in his face. If only he had warned you he was a heavy sleeper. 

Deciding to try one last thing before you resorting to screeching, you leaned closer to his ear, planted your hand on his chest—a brief memory of how you had touched him last night flashing in your mind—and shook him once more while you spoke. “Keishin, the delivery truck is here,” you said, not whispering but also not being too loud.

Thankfully, the mixture of shaking him and speaking directly into his ear seemed to finally do the trick and his eyes shot open. Immediately, you jumped back, not wanting him to be weirded out by how close you were to him. 

Eyes travelling up to meet yours, Keishin yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Truck’s here?” he clarified.

“Yeah, it just arrived,” you told him, waiting for him to get up. “You should have told me you were a heavy sleeper. I was about to scream or pour water over you or something.”

Keishin cringed at the thought of that. “Well, thank goodness you didn’t. Next time, just pinch my nose or tickle me or something . . . anything but water.”

“Next time?” you asked. “You plan on taking naps on the couch often?”

“It’s my favourite place to nap. You should try it sometime,” he said before heading for the door. “Come on, let’s get this delivery over with. Try to learn fast so I don’t have to teach you again.”

“I’ll try my best.”

As you had pretty much expected, the delivery had been pretty straight forward. After helping the delivery man unload all of the boxes into the storage room and signing off on the delivery, the most time-consuming and complex part of the process was taking an inventory of the new supplies, which you picked up on pretty quickly. 

Keishin showed you how to mark down the new delivery on the clipboard kept in the storage room and where to input the total count for each item. From there, all you had to do was make sure you had received everything and had the correct number ordered. 

“Pretty easy, right?” He glanced at you out the corner of his eye as the two of you worked together at counting the inventory, keeping an ear open for customers in the process.

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem hard. Just time consuming,” you agreed. 

“Exactly. We usually get a big delivery like this about once a month, then smaller deliveries throughout the week for more perishable items, as you already know.”

You nodded, quickly becoming lost in the repetitive task of counting and writing down the amount on the clipboard. Weirdly enough, you found that you didn’t actually hate taking inventory; the simple task was actually kind of calming and passed the time effortlessly. 

“50,” you muttered under your breath, jotting down the number in the correct box right after you finished counting. When you turned back to start on the next box, you caught Keishin looking in your direction. “What?” You furrowed your brows at him. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he responded, quickly elaborating when you shot him a confused look. “Well, more specifically, why you took this job.”

You shrugged as you continued working. “I already told you. I need the money.”

“Right, so you can move out on your own. But why?”

Your hands stopped grabbing items and your mind stopped counting, making you lose track. “Because I’ve been waiting for as long as I can remember to live my own life and now that I have the opportunity, I’m not going to pass it up.”

“But wouldn’t you much rather be going to school? Surely you don’t want to work in a place like this for the rest of your life.”

You sighed heavily. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“I’m just curious,” Keishin said. “I want to understand you better.”

“I don’t think you could truly understand unless you experienced the childhood that I did.”

Stopping his work as well, Keishin leaned against the shelf and crossed his arms over his chest. “Try me.”

Rolling your eyes, you accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to give up. “First thing’s first, I’m not saying my childhood was tragic or anything. My parents didn’t beat me. They fed me and clothed me and everything a parent should.” You started, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “I was just never allowed to live my own life or make my own decisions. I ate what my parents wanted me to eat, I wore what they wanted me to wear. I took the classes they wanted me to, I was friends with who they thought would make a good friend. They went overboard on trying to get me to do what they thought was best for me. I was never old enough or mature enough to know what I really wanted. I lived in a controlling dictatorship.”

“What about soccer?” Keishin asked, proving that he had actually remembered the conversation the two of you had had on your first day at the store. “You told me you used to play.”

You smiled fondly at the thought of your high school soccer team. “That was the only thing I ever got to pick for myself . . . and it took months of convincing, and in the end, I was only allowed to continue because I was good at it. The fact that I genuinely enjoyed it never came into account for my parents.” Your smiled faded slightly. “Sometimes they even managed to drain the fun from that as well, but I refused to let them ruin it for me because it was the only thing I had that was mine.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Every day . . . but this is more important right now.”

Keishin was silent for a few moments while he processed everything you had said. “Sounds like everything needed to have a purpose.”

“Pretty much. If something had no chance of providing success in the future, it was a waste of time.”

“So the plan is to work so you can afford your own place, then go to school next year? How are you going to afford school?”

“Well, if I had followed my parents plan for me and started working toward a law degree, they would have paid for it. But since I’ve decided to do my own thing now, I’m just lucky they haven’t kicked me out of the house yet . . . so I guess I’ll have to get a scholarship or apply for student loans. I’ll basically be scraping by, so I’ve applied for a bunch of community colleges and I’ll go from there I guess.”

Fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, Keishin lit one before sticking it between his lips. “What do you want to do?”

You laughed slightly at that. “I have no idea. I was never allowed to have hobbies or interests, so I don’t even know what I like. I just know what I don’t like. If I could do anything though, I’d apply for the University of Tokyo. They have a great soccer program. I just want to play soccer again.”

Keishin smiled. “Just soccer?”

“For now, yeah. I’ve learned that I’ll have to take life step by step, so that’s the first major goal. I’ll probably take some first year classes and see what I like and go from there. I think it’s okay to not have a set-in-stone plan sometimes . . . after all, this is the first time in my life I’ve never had my future planned out for me. It’s kind of exciting . . . scary, too, but exciting.”

Keishin sighed contently as he watched your eyes light up when you talked about the things you wanted to do in the future. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“So what was the point of what happened last night?” he inquired. “And, while we’re at it, the past few weeks as well. How do I fit into this grand plan of yours?”

You felt your heart pound against your chest. “I thought we were forgetting about last night?”

“We are,” he assured you. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just curious, is all.”

You thought for a moment, unsure how to phrase exactly how you were feeling. At first, you were inclined to take him up on his offer to not answer, but after how nice he had been to you today, you felt you owed him at least that. 

“Originally, I was in a pretty messed-up head space and I wanted to use you to get back at my parents,” you told him truthfully, “. . . but after last night, I did some serious thinking and realized that wasn’t the case. What I really want is to prove to my parents that not everything that is different or ‘not according to plan’ is bad. You have an  . . . alternative look about you,” you tried to phrase that as respectfully as possible, causing Keishin to chuckle, “but you’re not a bad person or, despite my harsh words last night, a burnout. You coach volleyball for high school kids and you help out at your family’s store and even though I’ve been pretty horrible to you, you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You paused, unsure if you should say the last part or not. “I don’t know, I just think that maybe if they met you, they might realize that I’m capable of making good choices for myself even if it doesn’t fit their predetermined mold of my life.”

“You think I’m a good choice?” he asked, taken aback by your honesty.

“Yeah.” You eyed him while he took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke spill from his lips. “Maybe not the nicotine addiction part, but hey, no one’s perfect.”

Keishin chuckled before putting his smoke out. “Okay, I’ve got a deal for you.”

You cocked a brow at him. “What?”

“If I pretend to be your boyfriend and help you fix things with your parents, you have to apply to the University of Tokyo and follow your dream of playing soccer.”

You were thoroughly perplexed. “Both conditions of that deal only really benefit me. What do you get out of it?”

He just shrugged. “Nothing.”

You scoffed. “Well, as generous and sketchy as that sounds, there is no way I would be able to afford the University of Tokyo on my own and I don’t think any amount of ass-kissing could make my parents agree to pay for me to go there to play soccer and figure life out.”

“Hey, one step at a time, right?” He used your own words against you. 

You contemplated his offer for a moment. “You’re really okay with that? Even though you get nothing but more work out of it?”

“I suggested it, didn’t I?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “You’d really pretend to be my boyfriend? Even though I’m just some rebellious kid?”

“Your opinion of me changed,” he pointed out. “Why can’t my opinion of you change too?”

“Fair enough,” you conceded. “Well, if you’re absolutely positive you won’t regret it when you wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll happily accept your deal. Thank you.”

Keishin turned back to the stack of boxes and promptly returned to the task at hand. “You’re welcome.”

You watched him work and quietly hum to himself while he did so. This time, it was his turn to catch you staring. “What?” he looked over at you.

“I just didn’t peg you for such a softy is all,” you joked. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffed at you. “Just don’t fall in love with me or anything, kid.”

You smirked. “Whatever you say, old man.”