#why the fuck do i have an alarm for 4 am this is outrageous

[cykoscandycane]

YAYAY posting this now just because 😋

this is my exchange gift for @becki-here !! i actually started this really early, around like dec 11th i have to say 😭 but i managed to finish it quickly, i added a bit more details before uploading this, but as always, merry christmas and happy holidays, hope you enjoy.

does it still count as christmas since im uploading this at 4 am on the 26th?? 😭

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)

You sell yourself to the Doll House to pay your mom’s medical expenses, only to discover your trainer is the guy who bullied you relentlessly in high school: Gojo Satoru.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Gojo’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Chubby Reader. Dubcon. Pet Play. Bullying. Collars/Leashes. Fingering. Anal sex. Vaginal sex. Bondage. Dildos. Humiliation. Oral sex. Tons and tons of cum. Gojo being an asshole.

Gojo looks confused, as if you just spoke a different language to him. “Hurting you? Was I too rough with the training? I’m sorry, I thought you liked-“

“No, not the training!” you yell. The training was the only part of this whole thing you enjoyed. “It’s all the sarcastic remarks about me being cute or little or ‘highlighting my best features’! Saying all those things when I know what you really think of me! And now saying you love me?! You want to keep me?! How stupid do you think I am? How cruel do you have to be to try to get my hopes up just so you can laugh at me?!”

“What are you talking about?” he asks. “Why would I try to trick you? I wasn’t being sarcastic! Fuck, why are you so insecure?!”

You stare at him with your mouth dropped open, totally stunned. “You made me this way!” you scream, tears flooding your eyes. “You gave me this insecurity!”

He actually looks offended. “How?!”

“You made fun of my looks for two years! You, the most beautiful person in the school, laughed at me, said horrible things about my clothes and body, gave me that awful nickname, made me feel ugly and disgusting… made me hate myself!”

“I never made fun of your looks!” he says, his voice getting loud. “I thought you were beautiful! Why would I make fun of your looks?!”

“You called me Chubby Bunny!”

“It’s a cute nickname!”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Even if you thought that, didn’t you notice that everyone was laughing at me because of it? You started that! And you laughed right along with the others! You made my life hell!”

He draws back as if he’s been slapped. “I… I just teased you… I-“

“That was more than teasing, Gojo! I was terrified of you! You were my boogeyman. If I heard your voice coming down the hall, I ducked into a room or hid around a corner until you were gone, because I was so afraid of what you would say or do to me!”

“What? No! I never hurt you! I couldn’t have… I was crazy about you!”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Is he actually rewriting history to make himself feel better? “What about when you tripped me in the hallway? I twisted my ankle. I couldn’t even get up by myself. Geto had to help me! And while I was on the floor, another boy walked by and said I looked like a seal! A few of them made seal barking noises at me for days after that!”

The outrage in his expression is gone, replaced by a look of uncertainty. “I didn’t know anyone said that. I was just joking around. I tripped my friends all the time, even Shoko! I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“So you saw it,” you say, your voice a little more quiet now. “Did you enjoy it? Watching me limp away in tears?”

“No! I actually felt bad about it, I swear! I even thought about apologizing, but Suguru said I should just leave you alone.”

“But you didn’t leave me alone, did you? You took my things, you made constant comments about my clothes. You laughed so loud whenever I made a mistake in class or even dropped a pencil, which got everyone else laughing too. You made me the laughingstock of the class! Why did you do that to me?! What did I ever do to you?!”

He looks hurt, almost sad. “I wanted your attention. You always ignored me. Every girl in the whole school paid attention to me, except the one girl I wanted. And the only way I could get that was to make you mad. I just… wanted you to look at me.” 

“I did look at you then, didn’t I?” you ask. “I looked at you with fear. You made me dread going to school.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, taking one step toward you. “I didn’t realize I hurt you so much. I was just a dumb kid back then. I can make it up to you, I can-“

“No, Gojo, you can’t.” Tears are running down your face. You wipe them with the back of your hand before going on. “Do you remember when you grabbed that love letter I was about to put in someone’s locker, and read it out loud?”

He flinches. He definitely remembers. “Yeah, and I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done that, I know!”

“There’s something you don’t know about that letter,” you say. “I actually wrote it two years before that. I wrote it for you, back when I was in love with you. But I was too shy to even anonymously sneak it into your locker. I was afraid you would somehow find out it was from me, and be disgusted. But I couldn’t throw it away, just like I couldn’t completely throw away my feelings for you, no matter how badly you treated me. So I held onto it. And when I started liking someone else, I realized all those same feelings applied to him. So I tried to drop it in his locker. But you grabbed it, and read it, and laughed. What you were laughing at, Gojo, were my feelings for you!”

Horror is written on his face. He has the same expression as someone who has just been informed that a family member has been in an accident. “I didn’t know… I was jealous… I’m so sorry!”

You don’t engage with his apology. You don’t have the mental strength to do that right now, so you continue airing your feelings. “Even after graduating, I had a complex about my body. I wouldn’t let anyone see me naked, not even my boyfriend. He probably broke up with me because of my hang ups. Eventually I was able to bury my feelings for you, the love and the hate. But then… I came here…” you say, your voice breaking as you begin crying again. “And all those feelings came rushing back to me! I worked so hard to forget about you! And now… now my heart is in tatters!”

There’s a flicker of light in his eyes. “So you do have feelings for me! Even now!”

You scoff, wiping your eyes again. “Yes, but that’s the problem! Loving you is hurting me! Because it makes me feel low and weak and pathetic. I even started feeling lucky that someone as perfect as you could hold back their disgust long enough to fuck me.”

“Don’t say that!” he practically yells, his face twisted in pain. “This whole time I thought I was the lucky one! Fuck, I’ve practically been permanently hard since you got here! I spent my high school years dreaming of touching you. Even when I’ve been training dolls, even when I was fucking them, I imagined they were you!”

You shake your head. “It’s too late. You already did the damage. I can’t be your doll. Whether you knew it or not, you’ve owned me for far too long. I can’t let you literally, legally own me for ten more years. It would destroy me.”

He seems to be at a loss for words, his eyes shimmering and wet, like he’s about to cry. 

You wipe your face again. “I can’t stay in here tonight. If you touch me, I might crumble. If you’re serious about feeling anything at all for me, you won’t do that to me. I’ll ask the owner if I can sleep in one of the empty rooms.”

“No, I’ll go. You can stay here,” he says, his voice unusually gentle. He grabs a few things and then heads for the door. Before stepping out, he looks at you again. “I really am sorry,” he says to you, and then he’s gone. 

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

Not long after, Gojo is knocking on Suguru’s door, not caring what he might be interrupting. It takes a few minutes for his friend to answer, his long hair slightly messy and his face annoyed. “What is it, Satoru?” 

Gojo doesn’t even say anything, just looks at him. 

Suguru’s eyes narrow. “Let me guess. You told her you’re keeping her and she told you to go to hell.”

“It was so much worse than that!” Gojo practically whines. 

With a sigh, Suguru says, “Let me clean up in here and I’ll meet you in the dining hall.”

An hour later, the two friends are sitting at a table, cups of tea in front of them. Gojo has told Suguru every word of the conversation he had with his doll, twice. 

Suguru takes another sip from his cup. “I tried to warn you when she first got here, but you wouldn’t listen. You never listen.”

Gojo is leaning over the table, his head on his arms. “I thought it would work out. I thought making her fall in love with me again would be easy. And it sort of was. She said she still has feelings for me!”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that part a dozen times already,” Suguru says, sitting his cup back on the table. “But for her, you’re the person who ruined her life just to get attention. Loving you only makes her feel worse. I don’t blame her for wanting to get away from you.”

Gojo looks up. “But I didn’t know! I didn’t know so many other people were making fun of her because of stuff I did, I didn’t know about the letter. I didn’t know I was hurting her so much!”

“Now you know,” Suguru tells him. “The question is, now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”

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

The next morning, you wake up in Gojo’s bed. It smells like him, and you can’t help remembering all the things you’ve done in this bed with him. 

But it’s over now. You’re going to talk to the owner and tell her to find a buyer for you as soon as possible. Gojo can move on to his next doll and hopefully both of you can put this whole mess behind you. 

The owner agrees to meet you in the welcome room to discuss your situation, and you find her standing in the center of the room. A folder is tucked under her arm.  

You open your mouth to speak to her, but Gojo suddenly rushes in. “Did you bring it?” he asks the owner, not even looking at you. 

The owner opens the folder and pulls out a paper. “Here it is, her contract. She is now your doll.”

“Wait!” you yell, confused and angry. How dare he do this after everything you said last night! You read your contract, you know you can reject him as your owner if you give sufficient reason. You’re pretty sure your history with Gojo would qualify. Still, the fact that he’s ignoring your wishes makes you livid. 

Before you can approach him, he turns to face you and holds your contract up in front of him. “You probably won’t believe me, but I planned to do this from the very start.”

With that, he rips the contract into tiny pieces and lets them fall to the floor. 

You freeze, watching the shreds of paper falling before your eyes. 

“You’re free,” he says. “You’re not a doll anymore.”

Your eyes widen. The owner sighs and shakes her head, saying, “Gojo, do you understand what you’re doing? This was your one doll to keep. You can’t ever pick another.”

“I know. I’ll never want another doll anyway,”

he says, then looks at you again. “I know this doesn’t make up for what I did to you, but I hope it can be a start.”

You feel your eyes becoming wet again. You’re free! You don’t have to give up ten years of your life after all! You glance at Gojo, unsure of what to say. 

“I never wanted to own you,” he says, his face a little sad. “I just want you to be happy. If you believe anything I’ve told you, believe that.”

“I… uh…” you flounder for a moment, trying to decide what words to use before finally settling on, “Thank you.”

He smiles at you. “Maybe someday, if you want to, we could try being friends? No pressure or anything. Just think about it.”

You nod, somewhat dazed. In the end, you leave with his phone number and return to your normal life. 

It takes over a month for you to text him. Just an awkward, “How are you?” that he replies to within seconds. You can almost feel his excitement to hear from you. 

“I quit my job as a trainer,” he tells you. “I just wasn’t all that into it anymore.”

You wonder if it’s because of what happened between the two of you, but don’t ask. A small part of you is relieved that he doesn’t currently have some other woman on a leash in his room. 

For the next couple of weeks, you and Gojo talk via text and phone calls. He never asks to meet up, and never tries to pressure you in any way. You do discuss your past some more, calmly this time. He listens quietly to everything you say, apologizes over and over, and (only when you’re ready to hear it) explains why he did all those things. 

His reasons were so childish and petty, it makes you realize he was just fifteen or sixteen years old when he did those things. Maybe it’s not fair to keep punishing someone for things they did at that age, if they’re trying to make it right as an adult. 

One night you have another anemic spell, and your friend is at work. The only family you have is your mother, and she’s still hospitalized. Nervously, you text Gojo. He’s already told you to let him know if you ever need anything, but the thought of seeing him face to face again makes you uneasy. 

Still, he shows up at your door in a flash, a bag full of food and DVD’s hanging on his arm. Seeing him standing there in your living room, so tall and so beautiful, makes your heart race.

“Did you faint again?” he asks, looking so worried. 

“No, I just felt dizzy and weak,” you tell him. 

“Then just relax,” he says with a smile. “I’ll take care of you.”

And he does. He cooks for you, brings you hot tea, and sits on the couch with you watching movies. He stays until the next morning, and you’re a little surprised that he never tried to tempt you into sleeping with him. You remember that the last time you weren’t feeling well, he did the same thing. 

To be honest, you’re a little disappointed. 

After that, the two of you are officially friends. You talk often, always checking in on each other’s days, getting to know each other’s habits and schedules. 

The friendship doesn’t last long. 

The first time you go to his place to “hang out just as friends”, both of you give in. 

One minute you’re sitting on his couch, laughing and talking, and the next you’re wrapped in his arms, his tongue in your mouth, his hands tugging at your clothes. 

He spreads you out naked on the cushions and eats your pussy like a man starved, saying how much he missed you, missed tasting you, missed watching you cum. He goes at it for over an hour, making you climax so many times you practically forget how to speak, only able to whimper and gasp. 

Then, he fucks your ass, absolutely railing you. You’re so overstimulated by this point that you just want him inside you, no matter what hole he uses. Overwhelmed by your own feelings, you start crying. Gojo holds you close to him, hugging you gently, rubbing your hair, whispering sweet words into your ear as he fucks you relentlessly. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re so beautiful. Feels so good inside you… Fuck, you’re incredible!”

You know what he’s doing, and it only makes you even more emotional. He wants you to know what he thinks of you. He doesn’t want you to question how attractive he finds you. He doesn’t want you to feel insecure. 

The two of you begin dating after that. You couldn’t ask for a sweeter, more supportive boyfriend. He takes care of you, pampers you, treats you like a queen. He even goes with you to visit your mom in the hospital. And through all this, you feel like you’re finally beginning to heal. 

And when the two of you are alone, and very horny, sometimes you go back to being his Bunny. Not Chubby Bunny, he’s never called you that since finding out how much it bothered you, but just Bunny. 

Right now, you’re in the living room of his apartment, all the curtains closed and the door locked. You’re wearing your collar, bunny ears, and thigh high stockings, and nothing else. Your hands are handcuffed in front of you, and you’re on your hands and knees, your legs trembling as you crawl toward Gojo, who is tugging on your leash. 

It’s hard to crawl with two huge dildos shoved inside you, one in each hole, both of them vibrating and rotating wildly. Earlier, Gojo got on his knees behind you and jacked off until ready to cum. Then he stuck just the tip into your pussy and filled it full. With his fingers, he scooped up the cum that leaked out and pushed it into your ass. Then he put the dildos in, leaving them to churn and stir up his cum, telling you not to let them fall out. 

It feels so good, being full of his cum, the sensation of it swirling inside you. But there’s one more hole that hasn’t had any yet. So you crawl between his spread thighs while he sits on the couch, looking down at you lovingly. You nuzzle his clothed crotch with your face and say, “Please fill my mouth, Satoru~”

You’ve only recently started calling him that. It felt a little weird at first, after calling him Gojo for all these years, but you love the effect it has on him when you purr out his name like that. 

You hear his breath catch in his throat, but he manages to compose himself. “Such a naughty, greedy Bunny! I’ve already filled two of your holes! Why don’t I just put the third dildo in your mouth?”

“No, please! The real thing… in my mouth… please,” you whine, staring up at him with glossy eyes. “Your cock tastes so good, Satoru… please feed me your cum!”

His eyes go wide, and you can just barely hear him mutter, “Holy fucking fuck!”

You’ve leaned by now that he’s totally weak to your begging. You’re the one handcuffed and leashed, but Gojo would move heaven and earth to please you, to watch you lose yourself to pleasure. 

“Th-then I guess I’ll fill that pretty mouth,” he says, his hands fumbling with his pants in his hurry to get them open. He stands up, towering over you. There’s a faint blush across his pale features, and he’s breathing a little harder than usual as he pulls out his cock. You open your lips, your tongue partially out. He grins. “You’re gonna have to open wider than that, Bunny, or this huge dick won’t fit.”

You lick your lips, then open your mouth wider, and he immediately shoves in. He fucks your mouth, thrusting into it, hitting the back of your throat, groaning when your tongue laps at every inch it can reach. 

“F-fuck! Your fucking mouth… so good…”

These moments together are so much hotter now that you can fully enjoy them, knowing he finds you irresistible. It makes you feel sexy, desired, loved. Knowing you can make him lose his mind gets you wet every time. 

Just when your jaw is starting to get sore, he pulls out so that he’s barely in your mouth, and shoots his load inside it. There’s so much! 

“Don’t swallow it yet,” he says, his face slightly red, his hair messy. He grabs the third dildo and pushes it into your mouth, turning it on low so that it can slowly stir his cum in your mouth, spreading it to every inch. Then he stands back and watches as all three of your holes, full of his seed, are fucked by the gyrating toys. 

You moan around the dildo in your mouth, locking eyes with him. He’s panting, his eyes wild with desire. Before your eyes, his cock gets hard again, standing tall and gorgeous just like him. 

He drops to his knees behind you and uses his hand to pump the dildo in your ass, in and out, making obscene squelching noises. With his other hand, you feel him pull the dildo out of your pussy. He holds it up, and you look at it over your shoulder. It’s dripping with his cum and your wetness. 

“Gotta be inside this pussy,” he mumbles, and then he’s thrusting into you, deep and hard enough to make your body jerk with his motions. You’re sore from being fucked by the dildos, which are almost as big as Gojo’s cock, but you wouldn’t pass this up for anything in the world. He pushes the dildo into your ass to the same rhythm as he fucks your pussy, making your eyes roll back as you release muffled cries. 

Gojo is grunting behind you, losing himself, babbling out words. 

“Fuck… fuck… I love you so much… this cock belongs to you… every ounce of my cum belongs to you… everything I am… yours…”

He thrusts in deep enough to make you scream, and shoots loads of hot cum into your core. After pulling out, he quickly pulls out the dildo in your ass, sticks his cock in, and shoots out the rest of his load. 

He’s panting as he turns you over, so that you’re lying on your back, your legs splayed, creamy cum dripping out of both holes. He reaches over and gently pulls the dildo from your mouth, watching as your tongue continues to lick at it, collecting any remaining cum from the sticky object. 

“Just how much do you love my cum?” he asks, staring down at you in awe. 

You run your tongue around the edge of your mouth. “It’s delicious,” you say. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he says, pulling you up and unfastening the collar. 

You snuggle into his arms as he helps you to the bathroom, enjoying how incredibly sweet he is during after care. 

The two of you have come a long way.  Even now, you’re not certain you’ve one hundred percent forgiven him. And occasionally you remember something terrible he did to you and it makes you uncomfortable around him for a few days. But he’s putting in the work to make it up to you, and you’re having a wonderful time enjoying being his girlfriend. You couldn’t ask for a happier ending than that. 

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii @fvsm4x @tyunhyukamyloves @rottmntrulesall

[krreader]

ensorcell | chapter 8.

pairing: prince!taehyung x reader  fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; prince!taehyung ;  arranged marriage ; language ; sex  genre: fluff ; angst ; smut word count: 2.7k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7

summary: it was funny, how meeting one single person could change your life forever. you were ordinary, he was not. he was rich, you were not. he fell in love with you and so did you. even though he was never supposed to.

a/n: i’m so sad I never get to update my originals as much as I want to, but I’m really happy when I do. especially with this one BECAUSE IT’S FINALLY SEXY TIME

It was on days like these that you were harshly reminded of not really belonging here.

It was on days like these that you realized that the girl struggling in college to get her degree and having frequent anxiety attacks due to the uncertainty of the future was the real you that you had left behind to play pretend. Because unlike some others, you were not cut out to play this game of royal intrigues that some seemed to excel in.

“You're mad.. aren't you?” the familiar voice would have made you turn around and smile a few hours ago, but now you kept your eyes firmly on the horizon and watched the sun set in the royal gardens while royal guards and maids were all around you, making sure that you were well taken care of.

Why, you might ask? Well, because they all thought you were carrying a royal heir, thanks to the man that now sat down next to you. When in reality, the only thing you were carrying was the weight of the lies that kept piling up.

“I'm not mad. I know why you did it,” when Taehyung let out a relieved sigh, you quickly added, “Doesn't mean I like what you did, though.”

“I had to say something. I've gotten so many inquiries about whether the rumors about Dae and me were true today, I knew the only way to make it stop was to say you were pregnant. A royal heir is the most precious thing a kingdom could have. You being pregnant will put an indefinite end to any possible other 'proposals' that my father could make.”

“But I'm not, Taehyung. I'm not pregnant. And I don't intend to get pregnant. Because in case you forgot, we've only been dating for a few weeks. Marrying is a big step after such a short amount of time, but having a baby?”

“I know,” he put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, brushing them over his tired eyes in desperation, “I thought it was the best solution at the time. I should have discussed it with you first, I'm sorry.”

It was a mess. A mess that would be hard to get out of, but at the same time, you really couldn't bring yourself to be angry with him. His father would have married him off to someone that he hated. He did it to ensure that the two of you could stay with each other. In some way, it showed you that he did it because, like his sister said, you meant a lot to him. And from the way he was acting now, a child hadn't been something that he had considered so early on either.

So at least you were on the same page in that sense.

Now, you'd have to figure out how to fix this and get out of this without birthing a baby in nine months. It’s not like you already had enough shit on your plate already.

“Give me a second,” you said when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, letting out a heavy sigh when you saw the name on the display. You already knew you were in deep shit when you answered, “Let me explain..-”

“No, you let me talk now and you just listen,” your mother started angrily, “You run off with some foreign prince that I've never met in my life without so much as a word to get married to him, because there is no other way to stay together, despite you and him only knowing each other for a few hours. Then you get knocked up by said prince before even getting married to him and are now pregnant without even having finished college yet and having absolutely zero fucking stability in your life while being in a country that is not home. Did I get all the details right?”

You clenched your jaw as you looked at the terrified 'foreign prince' that your mother seemed to like so much. Taehyung maybe should have asked more about your family, now that he was hearing her scream like this.

“I'm not pregnant, mom,” you lowered your voice, “It's.. extremely complicated and I promise I will explain it all eventually, but I am not pregnant, okay?”

“You know what? I've had enough. I'm taking the next flight out and I am taking you home with me.”

That alarmed Taehyung so much that he sat up straight, but you just put your hand on his leg to stop him from worrying, “I'm not five anymore, mom, you can't just come and get me. I'm an adult who can make her own decisions and I've made this one. I am getting married, with or without your approval.”

You knew that she was worried. That her saying that wasn't said out of any ill-will, but she was worried sick for you being here, so far away from home where she couldn't be with you.

And she instantly showed that side of herself when her voice broke a little, “Just come home, sweetheart. We can figure all of this out when you're back here. And maybe your boyfriend could come here too? Why can't he just..-”

If only it were so easy.

“Mom,” you got up and started walking, wanting a moment alone with your mother, “I miss you as much as you miss me, so I'm going to suggest that maybe, if you can, come here and spend a few days here. I actually would really like you to be here for the wedding. I want you to meet Taehyung and see what a great guy he is and his mother and sister, who take such good care of me. I want you to meet them.”

“It's not them I'm worried about. It's everything else. You don't understand how big of a thing this is, the media coverage on all of this is insane. Everyone is suddenly talking so much about you and I'm so afraid of what it's turning you into. I just don't want anything to happen to you, so leaving now..-”

“..- is not an option, I'm sorry, mom,” you said firmly, but at the same time, with a soft undertone, “Call (Y/B/F). She'll be here soon, maybe you can take the same flight as her. I'll prove to you that I'm doing okay and that you won't have to worry about me. I've got this.”

Fake it till you make it, right?

“How could you be so stupid?!” the king was pacing up and down the room, the queen and Taehyung's brother and sister all sitting across from you and him on a couch opposite, “I told you, the worst thing that you could do is get her pregnant and you do exactly that. This is an outrage!”

“Have you even listened to the news? Read an article? Because everything I've seen so far is well-wishes and happiness,” Taehyung leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, “We live in the 21st Century, father. Having a child before marriage isn't as big of a deal anymore as when you were younger.”

He was challenging him, so much that his mother had to gently shake her head to tell him to stop.

The king was already furious enough. Taehyung shouldn't add more fuel to the fire.

You had thought that Taehyung might have told his father the truth about the situation, but that would make little sense. What he did was to stop him from trying to ruin yours and his relationship. If he caught wind of this pregnancy being fake, it would be back to him trying to marry Taehyung off to princess Dae. His mother seemed to be unaware of the situation as well. Only his sister knew, why she did, though, you didn't know. Maybe Taehyung had confided in her beforehand.

“I thought I had raised you well, you know?” gone was the mad king, now all that you could see on his face was disappointment, “But ever since you met her..-” and as soon as your eyes met his, it was back to anger, “..you ruined everything.”

Taehyung let out a snort and got up, “If that's everything you have to say, then we shall take our leave. My fiancé has to rest,” he emphasized the word fiancé, which only seemed to make his father angrier.

But before this could escalate any further, he pulled you up by your hand and out of the room, walking with you to your bedroom.

And as soon as the doors behind you two were closed, his shoulders slumped and you could see just how tired he actually was.

You weren't the only one that was drained by all of this, he just hid it better than you.

Taehyung moved to the bed, then sat down on the foot of it and closed his eyes for a moment.

You watched him, but couldn't do so for long. Your need to reach out and support him was too great. And so you followed him and knelt down before him, gently cupping his face in your hands so that he looked at you.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered, “I made it worse.”

“Why did you do it? I mean.. really, why did you take such a drastic step?”

He looked into your eyes for a long while, then he put his hands over yours to hold them, his eyes becoming sadder by the second, “I was scared to lose you. The only one that I ever had feelings for and that I wanted to spend my future with. That was selfish, wasn't it?”

The corner of your mouth curled into a smile, “I wouldn't be here anymore if I didn't feel the same way about you.”

And the longer this eye contact lasted, the harder your heart beat against your chest. So much, that it felt like it was about to jump out. The urge to kiss him, to hold him and just... be with him, was so overwhelming that you couldn't hold back anymore.

And for the first time since you came here, it felt like you shut off your brain and just listened to your heart. You leaned up and kissed him, carefully at first because you were afraid of taking it too far, but Taehyung was as desperate for this as you were.

This wasn't even about sexual needs, this was about feeling the other person so close to you, to feel a union that would bring you closer together and would help you feel a little better in a shitty situation like this.

He wanted that too... so he deepened the kiss.

You sighed against his lips and slowly got up, only so you could straddle him a moment later.

His hands traveled from yours to your waist, holding you so tightly that you felt like his hands were leaving marks on your skin.

Keep in mind that you haven't had a proper moment like this since that first kiss that you shared back home. All those emotions, those feelings... you both just bottled them up because you had no other choice. But now, the bottle was overflowing. And there was no going back anymore.

Taehyung fell back into the mattress, you with him, without ever breaking the kiss once.

The only moment you both did, was for you and him to take off your shirts, then it was back to exploring the others mouth.

Fingertips running over your back, a trail of goosebumps forming where they touched and once he unclasped your bra, your entire upper body was covered in them.

One of his hands came up to your neck to hold it firmly, his thumb brushing against your jaw, stopping to kiss you for a moment, but leaning his forehead against yours and breathing heavily.

You thought he might say something, but he couldn't. It was all too much in that moment. Too many feelings and emotions. All he could do was quickly turn you around so that you were lying on your back and he on top of you.

His lips found their way to your neck, beginning to kiss every single spot on it.

Your hands were running through his beautiful and soft hair, letting out quiet moans every time he found a spot that made you shiver.

It was clear that he wanted to make you feel good. As if he wanted to make up for something, which he really didn't have to. But as his lips wrapped around your nipples, you couldn't bring yourself to say no. Not when his tongue felt so good and felt even better when it was finally between your exposed legs.

You had only been able to imagine what kind of lover he was before, but you were glad to see that – despite not knowing his sexual history – he seemed to know what he was doing. His tongue was caressing your clit, kissing it and biting down on it every now and again. Every time your moans became louder, he slowed down, just so you could fully enjoy this and he could draw this out for as long as possible.

He didn't say a word, just enjoyed making you feel beautiful, loved and outright good. 

Soft kisses, hard kisses, sucking on it.. he drove you mad relatively quickly.

“I think..- I think I'm..-” you couldn't finish this sentence, Taehyung had already felt your grip tighten in his hair. He licked on your clit like he had before and to top it all of, sucked on it a little harder than he had earlier. And that was all it took to bring you over the edge and to have you moan out his name. Loud.

Your body became limp afterwards, breathing heavily as he kissed his way back up.

A grin had spread on his face, kissing your cheek when he whispered, “I should thank whoever built this castle for making the walls thick.”

You let out a chuckle and spread your legs a little wider, grinning when he looked down, “You're not done, though, right?”

“Right..-” he dipped his head to kiss you once, twice, then he leaned down to your ear, his hardened length now resting against your throbbing clit, “Are you sure?”

Butterflies erupted in your belly when he said that. This caring and wonderful man, still worried if you maybe didn't want to continue after all this... it might have been stupid to think that way, but in that moment, you thought to yourself: ‘It's all worth it...’

“Yes,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I want you. All of you.”

“You have me,” he whispered back, slipping inside you so easily because of how wet you were, “All of me.”

You had seen his dick earlier and had seen that it was long, but now that he was actually inside you, rock-hard at that, you could really feel just how long.

The moment he was completely buried in you, you let out a breath that you had unconsciously been holding and waited for him to continue.

But it took him a while.

He just waited, held you in his arms and kissed your cheek every now and again. 

“Hey.. are you okay?” you asked eventually, putting your hand on his cheek to make him look at you.

And when he did, you were surprised to see tears in his eyes. Worry filled your face, but he quickly laughed, “Shit, I'm sorry. I'm just... I just really needed this.”

“My vagina?” you said, mainly to lighten the mood. And it did.

Taehyung let out a laugh and kissed your forehead, “No.. happiness. A moment of peace. With the woman that I'll marry.”

Your smile softened, your thumb brushing over his cheek, “Well then.. why don't you show your wife-to-be what she can expect from her future husband?”

“Many,” he pulled out a little, “many,” then pushed back in, a little harder than the first time to make you moan, “Orgasms.”

Now, that was music to your ears.

And the moans that escaped his throat afterwards as he continued pushing himself inside you again and again were an even sweeter melody. Every time he moaned your name and told you how good you felt, your heart felt like it was exploding.

This is what you had both needed.

Because now, there was no uncertainty anymore.

This was right. This felt right. You and him together.

And whatever obstacle would come your way, you would face it.

Together.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Fine Line | Jurdan Quarantine AU

Written for Jurdan Week 2020, hosted by @jurdannet​ | Day 4- Song Crossover (Adore You by Harry Styles requested by @mysweetvilllain​ )

Chapter Rating: M

CW: mature themes, explicit descriptions, vulgar language, eventual explicit content.

Summary: Two vindictive assholes. One shitty apartment. And a vow to get under each other’s skin. Stuck in hate together twenty-four-seven, this can only end in a crime of passion.

Next Chapter    |    Fine Line Masterlist    |    Masterlist    |    AO3 

Chapter 1- Adore You (Verse 1)

[Cardan POV]

The minute I walk into the kitchen, I know I’m fucked.

She’s sitting there on one of my bar stools, at my island counter, eating my strawberries straight out of the plastic container. I say “my” because I’m still in denial that I have to share this shit-hole with anyone. Especially her.

When I put the ad up online, I was skint and desperate. I would’ve taken anyone short of a serial killer, really, but I was hoping for normal. Or at the very least, boring. It’s just my luck that the only person who responded to the ad was someone so insufferable.

We were civil with each other for all of a day. Three weeks had me almost driven to moving out. Me. Moving out of my own damn apartment because even that is easier than living with Jude Duarte. 

That’s when corona hit, so I guess I’m stuck.

It’s been a fortnight of isolation. Putting up with her unmitigated bullshit. Her ceaseless presence and mulish disposition. Our constant butting heads. 

On a good day, I give myself over to the ashen taste of resignation. On the bad ones, I want to throw myself down the stairs just so I can spend the night in hospital. 

Anyways, I’m fucked because my wretched flatmate is sitting there in her baggy black sweatpants and oversized hoodie. Her knees are tucked up to her chest, giving me a plain view of those stupid rainbow socks she’s always wearing. Her hair is a mess on top of her head. Everything about her sets off a tick in my jaw.

Except the way she eats strawberries.

Her full pink lips wrap around one now and—fucking hell. I swear my cock twitches. When she sinks her teeth in, those lips come away red-stained and glistening. A line of juice dribbles down her chin as she chews. Then, she pops the stem into her mouth and eats that, too.

I find myself imagining her on her knees, strawberry lips wrapped around something else of mine. The way the back of her throat would feel as I ram into her mouth—

I blink. My lip curls. I need coffee, and maybe a cold shower.

The former is closest, so I stop standing in the doorway like the twat that I am, and walk into the kitchen. Thankfully, she’s got earphones in and is so immersed in whatever the fuck she does on her laptop all day that she hasn’t noticed my blatant ogling.

If she notices me at all, she doesn’t acknowledge it.

Good. It’s better this way. The less we talk the less we end up screaming at each other. It’s only happened twice. The neighbors came round both times.

I pull a mug and the instant coffee down from a shelf.

It irks me. Just last night, I was standing in this very spot, doing everything in my power not to lose my shit after finding a pile of her dirty dishes in the sink. For the third time this week. She always says “they’re soaking”, and I always end up doing them later anyway, because I can’t stand the mess.

She does things like that a lot. Dishes and crumbs and wrappers. Stealing my food. A week ago I found a pizza crust jammed in between the cushions of the sofa. She denies all accountability, of course.

Not to mention, she sets her alarms for the ass crack of dawn. She’s such a heavy sleeper that I’m invariably wide awake well before she is, listening to the incessant shrill of her phone through the walls as she hits snooze, over and over.

I’m certainly not without my faults, of course. I know she hates me just as much as I hate her. She’s told me as much. Which is why I’m miffed that suddenly, without any warning, I want to fuck her into the kitchen counter.

There’s a spoon in the drying rack and I use it to stir my coffee. 

Nicasia hated me, I think to myself. She loved me once, but she hated me for a while before she did anything about it. Then, I stop. Because I don’t want to uncork that bottle today. Point is, maybe it’s not completely out of left field. To want someone right when they’re giving you the very least of their attention.

I tap the spoon against the lip of my mug. Usually, I’d retreat back to my bedroom at this point. Instead, I throw the spoon in the sink and turn around to lean against the counter.

She’s still sitting at the island, honed in on her computer. I can hear the thin, metallic wail of a guitar coming from her earphones. She bobs her head slightly to the beat.

It’s not as if she isn’t attractive. In her own, unique way.

She’s strong. If I didn’t hear her pummeling that blasted punching bag she’s got hanging in her room every night, I’d have known she boxed just by the way she looks. She’s got a fighter’s build about her. It lives in her shoulders, in the barrel of her chest. As if every line of her was made bold and unyielding. With intention. 

Again, I have to stop my own wandering thoughts. I’m starting to wonder if maybe my dead end job that has me editing bad romance novels for a living is starting to go to my head. 

It pays the bills until it doesn’t. And then it rots my brain. Maybe I should quit.

Still, I tell myself it’s the quarantine talking. That if I wasn’t trapped in here with her, I wouldn’t find anything about her attractive. That I’d probably be willing to whore myself out for one cigarette right about now. And I don’t even smoke.

But then she looks up at me, mid-bite. Those honey-brown eyes are wild. They threaten to cut straight through me. She squints, accusatory. Chews her bite, slow. Swallows.

My mouth goes dry as the fucking Sahara.

“What are you staring at?” she demands, glare blazing.

Apparently, I’m in the mood to walk that fire, because I take a sip of my coffee and say, smug as I can, “You.”

Sometimes, it’s better to be completely honest with Jude. The truth always seems to appall her far more than any lie ever could. As if she expects everyone to be deceiving. Or maybe it’s just that my truths are so outrageous to her that she doesn’t believe them.

I wouldn’t blame her there. I can hardly admit to this truth, myself. Whether she believes me or not, though, it gets under her skin.

“Right,” she scoffs. “Is it because I’m pretty? Is it because you like me so much?” She bats her lashes at me, mocking. I am stunned by the fact that, for a moment, I wish it was real. That I’d gladly lose myself in that look if it came from her eyes in earnest.

Then I shake my head. I sound like the biggest shit-for-brains. It’ll take more than a few eyelash flutters to make me surrender.

“Oh, no,” I say, trying to match her taunting tone, “I don’t like you. I adore you.”

That makes Jude roll her eyes. “Please,” she says. “You’re probably plotting ways to stick me in my sleep or something. Fucking psychopath.”

It’s that last part that makes me take a step toward the island, lean forward to rest my elbows on the counter so I’m nearly in her space. She doesn’t draw back. Just gives me a scathing look from over the top of her screen.

“If I’m ever depraved enough to stick you,” I tell her, smirking, “I guarantee you won’t be sleeping, love.” Which may come off as anything from perverted to downright murderous, but I don’t care. The face she makes is worth it.

It’s all jaw dropped, vicious gaze, blush creeping into her cheeks like red smoke. I’ve never challenged her before. It makes her look at me like she despises me. Like the only thing she’ll ever do is despise me. I don’t know why that eggs me on, but it does.

“Would you look at that,” I hum, “You’ve got the face about right, too.”

Her nostrils flare. Jaw sets. There’s a lovely shade of puce coming up on her already heated cheeks. She’s absolutely livid, and I can taste it in the air between us. It’s like static on my tongue.

That’s when something cold and slimy hits me dead between the eyes. Jude’s half-eaten strawberry plops to the counter. I’m so surprised I almost laugh.

“You’re disgusting,” she says with as much derision as I feel coursing through me.

Part of me wants to give into that anger. Sling a string of curses at her. Throw the strawberry right back in her face. Those things won’t annoy her half as much as what I actually do.

Keeping an unbothered expression, I pluck the strawberry off the countertop and pop it right into my mouth. Stem and all. I lick my fingers for good measure. All while keeping direct eye contact with the little menace sitting across from me. Her gaze flits to my lips. So I swipe my tongue over them. She blinks.

“Delicious,” I say.

She looks just the right amount of scandalised for me to straighten, take my coffee back up in one hand, and saunter out of the kitchen. I don’t say anything about the strawberries. Or how stealing isn’t a very good exercise in courtesy.

We’ve never been courteous with one another, anyway.

When I’m back in my room I lean against the closed door and scrub a hand over my face. My heartbeat is raging since I did not.

Sometimes, I think the irritating things she does are all on purpose. Just to get under my skin. I rarely give her the satisfaction of knowing it works, but I don’t like letting her trample all over me, either. It gives me an oily feeling. Like I’m back to being under someone else’s thumb, and I hate it.

But that—whatever that was—felt more like fighting back than I ever thought I’d have the balls to do. I feel more alive now than I’ve felt in months.

Maybe that makes me a bastard. C’est la fucking vie.

I start shucking off my clothes, throwing them into the hamper in the corner, one by one. My bedroom is mercifully en suite. If I wanted to, I could live in here for days at a time without leaving.

I don’t know why I ever bother.

I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower. As I stand there under the cold stream, I think about how dangerous it is, this game I’ve entered. Flirting with Jude to get a rise out of her is one thing. That’s clear cut. A direct retaliation.

It’s another thing entirely if part of why I’m doing it is to take the edge off of my own perversions. I mean, what kind of sick fuck has sex fantasies about someone they hate? Someone they’re stuck in isolation with, twenty-four-seven, for the foreseeable future? Someone who hates their guts, too, and could probably easily take them out if it came to physical blows?

I guess that sick fuck would be me.

It’s a fine line to walk but there’s no turning back. I’ve already begun.

☽☽☽☽☽

AN: So I guess I’m hopping on the quarantine fic bandwagon 😅 this is definitely not what I expected to come out of this song crossover prompt, but I kind of like it? It’s (very loosely) based off of Adore You by Harry Styles- the threads are there if you look for them 😉

I’m planning on making this a 12 part series (one chapter for each song on Fine Line) so if you’d like to be added to the tag list for this, or to my Jurdan Forever tag list, let me know in the comments/my messages/inbox and I’d be happy to add you! 

-Em 🖤💫

Title Inspo: Fine Line (album) by Harry Styles, Adore You (song) by Harry Styles

Tag List: @velarhysismine​ @knifewifejude​ @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @thesirenwashere​ @judexcardanxgreenbriar​ @nite0wl29​ @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ @whocares-idont​ @babycardan @mysweetvilllain​ @aesthetics-11​ @storiesandschemes​ @jurdanhell​ @poeticbrownmermaid @thechainofiron​ @random-llama-socks​ @villanellevi​ @lady-thea-of-narnia​ @b00kworm​ @flowersinvegas​ @vanessa172003​ @cardanstrickytail​ @queen-of-glass​ @doingmyrainbow​

Next Chapter

Fine Line Masterlist

Masterlist

[captain-emmajones]

Here’s a Prompt; Emma’s when she comes back from the Underworld without Killian, pre funeral scene, when she realises she’ll never see him again 💔😉

Hello beautiful angel, thank you for the prompt! This is slightly different from what you asked for, but everything did originate from your idea. I hope you’ll like this <3

Big thank you to @snowbellewells who was a real angel and beta’d this and saved all of our eyeballs in the process <3 

Fluff - Angst - Canon Compliant -  Ao3 - 2500 words

Summary: This is set at the beginning of season 4 when Killian and Emma start dating and expands until the end of season 5 ... or the times Killian helped Emma make her bed after staying over, and the times he didn’t. 

The first time he offers to help her, she is sprawled across her bed like a starfish, as she tries to properly tuck in her freshly-washed fitted sheets.

“Come on guys, you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” she hisses between her teeth, one foot keeping the right corner down while her fingers battle with the left. 

“Need a hand love?” 

“Thought you were in the bathroom,” she mumbles -- this close from succeeding, this close -- and she doesn’t spin around to face him because the sheets just might escape her and she won’t allow it. 

She hears him chuckle behind her back. How dare he be chuckling?

 “Aye, well, a man has needs love...But now that I am here, let me help you.” 

It’s actually quite funny then, because as she reluctantly raises her chin towards him, ready to tell him that she’s got it covered -- although she has actually broken a sweat over this terrible affair -- well, her eyes meet his and her heart leaps inside her chest just as the fitted sheet bounces back into her face. 

Fuck. 

Because, see, the thing is the sun is quite a traitor, and it has decided to dabble its most outrageous golden beams into his gentle blue eyes and this absolutely does not stir something weird deep within Emma’s belly -- not at all. 

And Emma’s heart tries its best to remain neutral, cold, detached but the only thing it manages to do as Killian Jones offers her a bright smile and a raised eyebrow is to sigh and skip an alarmed beat. 

“Y-yeah, sure. Thanks.” 

The starfish leaves her natural habitat to stand up and hand him one corner of the white cotton sheets. When his warm palm brushes against hers, playfully, on purpose, she flushes remembering what those fingers did to her the night before.

“There we go, Swan,” he says, casually, as if all of this domesticity is normal and appropriate when her heart is throbbing and threatening to jump out of her ribcage onto the carpeted floor. “I’m actually quite an expert, as you’ll see.” 

And because misfortunes never come alone, he has the audacity of gently pressing his lips to her temple and sighing a deep sigh of contentment against her skin, and by that time Emma has completely stopped breathing. 

Because the thing is she is fucking terrified. 

.

Later that day, when Killian has ventured out of the apartment, a piece of toast tucked between his teeth, pirate business to attend love, and Emma’s alone with her mother in the kitchen, and her spoon tinkles inside her mug, tinkles and tinkles, Emma wonders aloud: 

“Mom, when did dad start helping you make your bed?” 

And then it’s quite a scene for the ages because Mary Margaret nearly spits her entire mouthful of tea into Emma’s face, and Emma figures her question might be slightly weird and instantly regrets asking it.  

“I’m, I’m…,” Snow White begins, and Snow White is blushing, and Snow White is Emma’s mother and Emma wants to dive into her mug of coffee and possibly drown there. “I mean, I don’t know.” She pauses, winces. “With the Evil Queen, and the sleeping curse, and all of that...your father and I didn’t really get to date, you know…” 

Oh, Emma knows. This is all very new and weird to her, the whole dating Captain Hook. 

“I see,” Emma replies simply, because Mary Margaret is gazing at her far too intensely and Emma is still contemplating diving into her small mug. 

Instead, she stubbornly lowers her gaze and refuses to look back up at her mother, who will not stop staring. 

“Why…” Mary Margaret’s voice resonates a few seconds afterwards, “Why are you asking, Emma?” 

Emma feels her hair stand on hand. 

“No, you know, just wondering…”

.

The next time he sleeps over, her parents are downstairs when they wake up. Emma feels like she is sixteen and she’s just had her first boyfriend at home, and while it is obviously inconvenient, a part of her cannot help but shriek (very silently) of happiness because this is is silly and dumb and it’s hers. 

“Alright. Just stay here, I’ll go grab us some coffee.” 

When she climbs back up, cold, morning air greets her and curls around her bare legs. But Emma cannot bring herself to complain. In fact, she can barely bring herself to form any coherent thoughts.

Because, see, the thing is Killian Jones -- her boyfriend, as we’ve mentioned before -- has opened wide the windows and is currently on all fours, busy fluffing her pillow, on top of her already tightly made bed. 

Emma blinks, swallows, tries her best to contain the panic birthing inside her throat, ready to roar out of her mouth. 

It’s just Killian. It’s just him. It’s just him. 

Although her legs seem to burn with the urge to run, flee, disappear, she breathes in deeply, it’s just us, forces a smile on her face and clears her throat to signal her presence. 

All it takes to quiet down the voices are his eyes gazing into hers as he turns his face. 

And she says, “You didn’t have to make the bed”, but she means something else, something that she isn’t ready to voice, that she is terrified to even think.   

And he smiles back at her, rolling back to her side, and she can tell in his “Don’t worry about it, love,” as he springs to his feet and to her lips that he heard it anyway. 

. 

As things turn out, Killian makes a far better bed than Emma ever could, and Mary Margaret is quite pleased. 

“I have never seen your room so tidy,” she exclaims on delivering a hot cocoa to Emma who is still busy with sheriff files. 

Feet propped on her desk, Emma shrugs and scans the room while this silly, little warm bubble of happiness swells inside her chest. 

“Well, yeah, Killian always makes sure everything is in order when he--” and abruptly cuts herself. 

Emma’s cheeks flush a bright pink then, what the hell was she about to say? and Mary Margaret’s cough is another poor attempt to hide her grin. 

“I see...Well, I’ll leave you to it. Say hi to Killian if you see him tonight.” 

Emma means to tell her that she absolutely doesn’t want to talk about her boyfriend with her mother, of all people, and she isn’t sixteen anymore and she shouldn’t feel this embarassed, but instead she just smiles, giggles a bit even, for fuck’s sake, and exhales: “Sure.” 

And if she wants to slap her own face with her own two hands afterwards, it’s only because this is new and terrifying and the happiest she’s been in ages. 

.

When she sleeps over on the Jolly Roger, and she wakes up to his side of the bed empty, a good sailor wakes up with the sun love, she tries to make the bed like he does...and fails, miserably. 

“For both of our sakes, Swan, please leave the bed to me.” 

And she wants to be mad, fists on hips, but instead a rare, childlike laughter rattles her ribs as she pounces on top of him and they both land onto the bed. 

“What’s the point of having a neatly made bed if we’re going to mess it up anyway?” she grins against his lips, and then kisses him more, and more. She cannot get enough of his kisses. 

He chuckles, too. It’s a wonderful sound. 

“Point taken, Swan.” 

And as she backs away to slowly delve into his eyes, Emma thinks she might need to hear it for the rest of her life, or else she might wither like the poets do. 

. 

(When he leaves, she doesn’t wither like the poets do. Emma figures she should have known, should have known that the metaphor was far too delicate and gentle, should have known that death would be fire and ashes and void -- oh, so much void, where he used to live in her heart. 

When he leaves, she burns, she breaks, she collapses to the ground in a deafening bang, but she most absolutely does not wither.)

. 

The first time, it is a parallel universe and it doesn’t count, it isn’t real, and she gets to hold him a few hours later, and squeeze him, as hard as she can, against her heart, and she doesn’t say it, then. 

Although his smile weakens he lets her love him this way -- with her fragile, imperfect, scarred fingers that tremble even as she brushes his cheeks. 

She doesn’t know how else to love him.   

(He also loses her, that night. She tends to forget it. That she isn’t the only one bleeding, that he also lost his love when she took on the darkness in a flash of light. He also lost her.)

.

In Camelot, they share a room. 

Although Dark Ones do not sleep she remains by his side most nights, and she watches him.

As the moon and the stars illuminate his skin, trace the shape of his face and dust his cheeks of constellations, she thinks about the time he died, only it wasn’t real but it could have been, and she thinks about how precious he is to her and that death should not be able to touch love, death should remain very far and hidden from her because god knows what she’ll do to keep him by her side. 

She brushes a stubborn strand of hair from his forehead and brushes her lips against his warm skin, once, twice, thrice. I love you. I love you. I love you. In his slumber, he smiles. 

She loves him. It is the only light in her darkness.

.

The second time, he lays asleep in a middlemist flower field. She doesn't let him sleep. She wakes him up. 

He hates her for it. No one likes to be awoken in the middle of the night, in the middle of an eternal, ghastly night. 

.

When Emma is alone in this big, enormous house, she is quite thankful Dark Ones do not need sleep. She doesn’t have to make the bed. But she does stare at it, the bed where they should be both lying down, curled up together, warm and comfortable and happy. 

She stares at it and she remembers his sleepy smile under the golden morning light, not two months ago, she remembers his blue eyes disappearing, one instant, behind yellow sheets that danced in the air between them, she remembers how much love she had seen in his eyes and how much it had frightened her. 

She isn’t afraid anymore. Her fingers have stopped shaking. 

She only hopes she isn’t too late. 

(She is, of course, she is but that will take some time to sink in.) 

.

The third time, she sleeps on the couch, warm fingers against the cold silver of the ring he gave her. 

“The Dark One is immortal. Emma isn’t. Bring her home to me.” 

Her heart pounds inside her chest for the first time in weeks and it bumps against her ribs, it rattles, it begs, it cries: what is the point anymore? What     is       the        point? 

She sleeps on the couch. 

It would be too much to withstand to wake up in her bed and forget that he is gone, stretch a hand and not meet his, stretch a leg and only find void, nothing, and remember it all, suddenly -- and stretch the bed cover and find her muscles sore and lonely and how the hell did she manage to do that alone? 

She sleeps on the couch. 

Until she stands up and decides Orpheus was right and strides to fetch him from Hell. 

.

Is she meant to turn around, and lose him forever? Is there no other ending? 

It can’t be. It can’t be, not when his skin still tastes like his skin, and his eyes are still blue and real and he is here with her, and they are going to make it out of there alive, together. 

Orpheus failed. She won’t. 

.

She does. 

She fails. Again. 

She leaves him behind. And when she turns around, her father’s fingers clutched around hers, tugging, tugging, Emma we have to go, she doesn’t even get to see him one last time. 

She swallows broken pieces of glass and happy endings and true love, and she suffocates because it is the fourth time and she cannot breathe and this cannot possibly be the end, they deserve time, more time -- 

-- We already got more time than we were ever meant to. 

.

The day she buries him, she’s staring at her unmade bed when, for the first time, she realizes, understands, that there will be no getting him back this time. 

That his warm fingers will not close over her knuckles, his stubborn little sigh, as he mumbles not like this Swan, you have to really tug, just like that…

Her fingers will forever remain stretched, ready to grasp, hold, treasure... but there is nothing left to reach. 

Tears burn her eyes as she stares at the stubborn piece of fabric in her hands that will not be properly tucked in. 

A breath, a sigh, a sob shaking her spine. 

She should have paid attention when he was explaining. Should have remembered the steps. Instead, she stared at him and his mouth and his eyelashes in this golden light and  thought she would have him forever. 

She thought they would have their happily ever after, so why bother with making a bed? 

But now he is gone and she is unable to make the bed like he does, used to -- oh god, will this ever get easier? -- and her fingers have nowhere to hold anymore, nowhere to reach, nowhere to be. 

.

It does. It gets easier. 

As things turn out, Fate has other plans than death for Killian Jones. 

Emma is forever grateful. 

(Their nights are still haunted by terror and grief, but that’s quite alright. 

Because, see, every morning, no matter the stormy night they just spent, no matter the nightmares and cries and screams, well every morning they make the bed together, and Emma actually pays attention when he explains, she’s learned her lesson, and they get to face the rest of their lives together.)

**

[jungkookiebus]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tea shop owner!jjk x reader  ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: angst x fluff x eventual smut  ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mentions of death (non-major character)  ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.2k sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:  you thought after three years the hurt in your heart for your dead husband would sting a little less than it did. in an attempt to clear your mind and start anew, you move to a small, coastal town. there, you find comfort in a tea shop run by a man named jeongguk. every day, at the same time, you come to the tea shop and soon start to fall for the bright-eyed man that listens to you pour your heart out. but the guilt settling in your stomach every time you think of your husband has you running from jeongguk entirely. do you have what it takes to let go?

Part of the Love Yourself The Collab. I hope you enjoy all of the wonderful stories!

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: This is part one to this installment. There is so much more story and I didn’t want it to feel extremely rushed. Picture for my heading and fic breaks are of the Aoyama Flower Market Tea House. 

The whirring of machines and the steady, monotonous beep beep beep echoed loudly in your head; ping ponging off the sides of your skull until it felt like it would break straight through the bone. A tension headache pounded behind your eyes and you pinched the bridge of your nose to alleviate some of the pain. The room’s sterile scent burned your nose and you were sure the smell had permanently seeped into your clothes. Outside, the night was quiet save for the sirens every now and then. You absently wondered if there were people out there having just as bad a night as you. There was soft, raspy breathing steadily beside you as you sat doubled over in an uncomfortable chair as your head lay on the hard hospital mattress. You stared down your arm to your fingers intertwined with his and ran your fingers softly against his skin. It was then that every alarm in the room went off. He gasped for breath as he struggled unconsciously, hands reaching out to an unknown specter. You panicked and grabbed his shoulders to keep him steady, screaming in panic for someone to help you, pressing furiously on the nurse’s button. But help never came. All at once, he went still, and his eyes focused on your face. His lips moved slowly, and he seemed to be saying something. Leaning forward, you turned your ear close enough to his face to feel his warm breath against your skin.

“Why?” he breathed.

The monitor beside you blipped one last time before hitting that too well known tone of death. Your breath caught in shock as the realization kicked in. He was gone. Nurses poured into the room seconds later and you were jolted awake as you slid from his bed.

Sitting up in the darkness you looked towards the clock. 4:34 am.

You had had that reoccurring nightmare for years.

You looked to your right at the empty space beside you and immediately fell into tears. It had been three years since he died. Some days were easier than others, some days you’d even forget about the whole thing, and then some of them were so unbearable you could barely move. You had dated your husband since high school, married in University, and you both had the whole world ahead of you. He had accomplished every goal he set for himself, got a good career, and was ready to start creating a family with you when he had received the news. Brain cancer. Very aggressive and minimal chance of an effective treatment. Your world came crashing down around you with the news. Every which direction you had expected your life to go was suddenly skewed by a landslide.

He hadn’t even lasted the month.

One second you were happily married and the breath before your next heartbeat, he was gone. He had left you well cared for, but the pain in your heart could not be softened by being financially stable after his death. It took months for you to put his bathroom things away; a few months after that you had the heart to tidy up his study, putting away reminders, and picking up the coffee cups that seemed to accumulate there; it was two years before you were able to donate his clothes; and it was almost three when you moved the book he had been reading from his bedside table.

“Is this something you really want to do?” Ki whispered cautiously over his cup of tea. Steam wafted outwards towards you as he asked the question. His glasses fogged up once more as the heat was once again directed at his face.

You smiled down at his cautious gaze and glassy eyes. “I really want to do this.”

“Tongyeong is so far away,” he pouted.

“You can visit.”

“What will his family say?”

You stared out of the café window to the bustling city streets. What would his family think? Probably glad the bitch was out of the picture. When he had died, his family was outraged to find that he left the majority of his belongings and holdings to you. They fought tooth and nail to take everything from you, but his will was legally sound and so they had no other option than to relent. Ever since, they had cut off all connection, but were still nosy, using proxies to delve for information about your life. You weren’t going off and blowing his money. You had invested most of it after you paid off the house and was living comfortably off the earnings. The only news they ever got was that ‘she’s still there, leaves the house when she needs to, gardens when she’s sad, and sits outside for long stretches of time.’ Eat that, Jung family.

You smiled to yourself then said, “Who cares? They can go fuck themselves.”

Ki snickered into his drink. Setting the cup down on the table he reached across and grabbed your hand.

“___, if this is something that you want, I support it 100%. Know that I’m here if you ever need anything.”

The move went easier than you had expected. Your therapist talked you off the ledge of a mental breakdown twice as you packed up your life. If it wasn’t for her and Ki’s unswaying friendship, you wouldn’t have been able to do it. Tongyeong was on the southern coast of Korea and was everything you ever wanted. It boasted mountain ranges and evergreen trees for miles. The small part of town you had purchased in was nestled amongst the craggy rocks of the shore, dotted with docks, several hundred boats swayed amongst their moorings, and the smell of salt was fresh on the wind each day. The home you purchased was cottage style, slightly outside of the range of “town”, but close enough to walk. There was room for you to garden and still be able to enjoy yourself if you were to put in a sitting area. This house was admittedly smaller than your last so you did sell some items of furniture you wouldn’t be needing and packed up your most treasured possessions. Windows were on each wall of the single story home, which would boast sunshine for most of the day and called for a warm house during winter. Most of your unpacking was done save for a few of the books you had yet to shelf in your new study. For now, you had your essentials and the rest could wait. You were eager to explore the town and familiarize yourself with some sort of café to enjoy some tea.

Pulling on a light sweater, you slipped from your house and down the path into town. It was lazy on this Sunday morning and you were thankful for the lack of interaction you would have had to otherwise endure. Passing a small dress shop, florist, and bakery you finally stumbled upon what you were looking for. Settled oddly, almost at an angle between two buildings sat a small, squat building. It seemed to give an almost magical aura with its soft, gray brick. The glass in the windowpanes looked old as the sun rippled across them. A green door with intricate wood carvings greeted you as you pushed it open. A rush of warm air hit you and was quickly followed by the smells of spices, something citrusy, and chocolate. Dried flowers hung from string in the windows. Behind the long, wooden bar stood floor to ceiling shelves with hundreds of jars of various teas. A library ladder stood at one end, ready to be rolled to its next destination in this journey of tea. Soft piano music came from an unseen speaker. Besides you, there was no one else in the café. You looked around thinking maybe you had made a mistake and accidentally came in while it was closed. As you were turning to leave the way you came a bright ‘hello!’ startled you into turning back around. A tall, broad chested man with black hair that fell into his eyes came out of a door behind the counter. His eyes shone bright in the lights of the café, lights you couldn’t see now that you were observing your surroundings more. The café seemed to glow as if it created its own atmosphere. It glowed even brighter as he entered the room. All at once you felt instantaneous relief wash through your body as he smiled at you.

“How can I help you?” His voice was neither very high nor low, but the lilt of his dialect calmed you.

“I, um, well…,” you trailed off.

“Let me ask you this. How can the tea help you?”

Your brow furrowed at such an odd question. You were trying to wrack your brain for some logical answer when he spoke again.

“What ails you?”

Was this turning into some health appointment?

“Tea has all kinds of healing powers. I have tea for depression, insomnia, nerve pain, chronic sinus infection, and the occasional ‘blend’ for the hypochondriacs.” He threw his fingers into air quotes at the end. “Or, you know, if you’re just into peppermint I have that too.”

He leaned against the counter and looked at you questioningly. His eyes held the same attentiveness as someone saying, ‘I’ll stand here happily for 8 hours until you decide’.

“Yea, well…sometimes…I have trouble sleeping.” You looked away shyly. Something inside you told you that if you looked him directly in his eyes, he’d know all your secrets.

You felt his gaze on your face as you pretended to read the names on all the jars.

“Nightmares?” he questioned.

Your eyes immediately met his as they widened. Your mouth fell open slightly before you snapped it shut and fixed your gaze.

“How did you know?”

“Intuition.” He leaned on the counter for a beat longer before he pushed off, grabbing the ladder and rolling it behind him. “I have just the one.”  

As he climbed the ladder you let your eyes flit over his lithe frame, probably small under that oversized sweater, but you could tell by the fitted pants he wore that he was well toned. Your cheeks burned with guilt as you thought about it.

“Take a seat,” he said as he jumped off the ladder, jar in hand, and gesturing towards the counter.

You sat down slowly on one of the bar seats, placed your bag in front of you, and watched as he moved around burners and teapots.

“Are you visiting?” he asked as he sat some water on to boil.

“No, I just moved here.”

“Oh! We rarely get anybody new around here. Small town and all.”

“Yea, it’s a really pretty town and it boasted some of the best seafood.”

He laughed as he nodded in agreement. “Some of the freshest you’ll ever get. Go down to the docks early on Saturday mornings before the sun comes up and you’ll receive the best squid you’ll ever eat.”

You laughed as he tried to get you to warm up. His banter was oddly comforting, and it seeped like honey through your veins. Your mind seemed lazy, slow and all at once at ease. The tension you held in your shoulders dissipated and the slight clench in your jaw relaxed. Chamomile, lemon balm, and something spicy wafted into your nose. The man stood there; lips pursed as he concentrated on the cup of tea steeping in front of him. The more he moved his lips the more you saw his dimple appear and disappear. He had a strong jaw that led to an equally strong neck. He was wiry; veins stood out along his neck, arms, and hands. You wondered what else he did to keep himself in such great shape besides make tea all day.

“Perfect,” he muttered as he pulled the leaves from the mug. Carefully, he sat the mug in front of you. “Now, I suggest drinking it as is, but if you want sugar, honey, or milk I’ve got it.”

“Oh, no, this is fine, thank you.” The mug was pleasantly warm in your hands. The glass was not so hot that you had to pull your hands away and the warmth seemed to shoot into your limbs. He turned away to clean up his imaginary mess as you took the first sip. If molasses were sentient and it carried healing properties for stress, then you were dunked in a vat of it. The feeling seemed to slide across your skin slowly, making sure to fill each and every crevice of your soul. You almost wanted to bow down at the feet of whoever made this blend.

“This was a good pick…,” you trailed off. You wanted to put a name to the face.

“Jeongguk.” He wiped his hands to preoccupy himself as you took another sip.

“Well, Jeongguk,” you said giving him a look of surprise, “you were spot-on knowing exactly what I needed.”

He smiled shyly as he looked down at his shoes.

“Mom always said I had a knack for it. I make the blends in house.”

You looked around in shock at the hundreds of jars that lined the wall behind him. “You made all of these?”

“Yep!” he grinned proudly as he spun to look at his work. “I live farther up in the hills. I grow a lot of tea up there; they love the humidity in the summer. I get some stuff imported from reliable, sustainable growers. But yea, these are all hand crafted by yours truly.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Yea? Well, you’re welcome to stop by any time. Hell, you could come here everyday for the next few months and try one new tea a day.”

“That sounds great, actually. My name is _____ by the way, I don’t know if I told you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you move here?”

You’d knew he ask, but you still weren’t prepared when he did. What were you supposed to say? ‘My husband died three years ago, I’m still not over it, I wake up with nightmares every night, and I can’t sleep with my light off anymore, but everything’s great! Town is lovely!’ or do you simply say:

“Mid-life crisis.”

He snickered as the sentence came out of you dead pan.

“You look too young to be having one of those.”

“What makes you think I’m going to live much longer?” you laughed.

He doubled over in exaggeration at your joke. “No one around here has a sense of humor sometimes. Glad to meet someone that’s a little more normal.”

“Surely not everyone here is lifeless.”

“Ah, no. It’s just mostly a bunch of burly old fisherman, rich fishermen’s wives, poor fishermen’s wives for that matter too. Needless to say, it’s a mixed bunch and they don’t all get along. The hardened old timers that this is all they know, stay. The kids they had started moving away and now there’s barely any young people left in the town. Why stay here when you can be living life in Seoul or Busan.”

“What made you stay?”

“I love it here,” he said without missing a beat.

You appreciated that he took stock in the simple things. Everything about this town screamed simple and it appealed to you. This would be a no-nonsense restart to your life.

“I know what you’re thinking. He’s uneducated and knows nothing about life because he’s never left this coastal town since the day he was born.”

You shrugged at his almost correct assumption about himself.

“Well, no matter what anyone in town tells you, that’s wrong. I went to University, graduated, lived in China for a couple of years and that’s where I learned everything I needed to know about tea. I came back here with some of my savings and I opened shop. Been here ever since.”

“You seem very accomplished.”

“I feel very accomplished,” he smiled. Damn it, if that toothy grin wasn’t getting you every time. You found yourself blushing more than once as he fixed his gaze upon you, listening as if you held the universe in your hands.

You told him the bare minimum about yourself, barely scratching the surface of your depressing past. You told him where you moved from, your education background, and a few mundane aspirations you had for yourself. Luckily, a year ago you had started wearing your wedding bands on a necklace which now was tucked snugly inside your sweater. The lack of jewelry stopped him from asking any questions about your relationship status.

Once your conversation had lulled and your mug was drained, you stood up to leave.

“This was all very lovely, Jeongguk. Thank you for the suggestion in tea.”

He seemed very boyish when he smiled, but he looked to be the same age as you. Praise made him light up like a Christmas tree and you found yourself liking his smile more and more.

“Any time. Oh! And if there is a blend you’d like to try don’t hesitate to ask me.”

You gave him one last smile as you exited the tea shop. The difference in atmosphere as you stepped out was almost otherworldly. Reality seemed to tip on its axis before it readjusted itself and you were left staring dumbly on the sidewalk. You looked behind you to see if you had imagined the whole thing, but the tea shop still stood in front of you looking the exact same as when you walked in. Tendrils of anxiety pricked at your brain. The comfort of the tea shop had helped you forget for a little while, but now that you were alone and exposed to the evening air you felt an emptiness creeping back inside of you. Clinging to the last few notes of chamomile on your tongue, you held on to the feeling as you walked back home.

The next day you awoke to the sounds of seagulls gathering at the docks in the hopes of getting a stray fish that fell. You had left your windows open that night, letting in the early morning salty breeze. The smell of fresh fish carried on the wind and permeated your house. As you stretched your limbs, hopeful excitement bloomed in your chest as you thought about the tea shop and its semi-mysterious owner. You realized immediately that you slept through the entire night, not once woken up by horrible nightmares. You quickly dressed, looked yourself over in the hall mirror briefly, and stepped out into the morning air. All kinds of birds trilled in the trees and you still heard the shrill call of the seagulls closer to shore. You walked with purpose this time. You knew exactly where you were going and wanted to at least give the air of a local. You found it looking just as it had the day before.

The air inside was comfortably warm and today the shop smelled like lavender and bergamot. A patron sat at a small table near a bookcase, but the old man did not look up from his reading. Jeongguk beamed at you as he walked out holding a tray of fresh lavender scones.

He glanced towards the grandfather clock that flanked one of his walls. “Same time as yesterday. Punctual, I see.”

“And I see that not only can you make amazing tea blends but also baked goods as well,” you said taking the same place at the counter like you had the day before.

Today it sounded like he was playing music from some fantasy movie; a long, forlorn single note played, and violins dramatically sang in the background. Herbs were now placed on the line with the dried flowers and the smell of rosemary wove in and out of the calming lavender scent.  

“You can have one on me and you can tell me if it’s good or not.” He placed one on a plate before sliding it over to you. “What’ll it be today?”

He slid the tray of scones into a small bakery case and turned expectantly towards you.

“I’m feeling something fruity today.”

“Perfect,” he smiled. “You’re in luck. I had a bunch of strawberries that I dried last year that weren’t getting used. I made a strawberry and peach tea last night with just the slightest hint of vanilla.”

He bounced around excitedly like a kid showing you a new trick they had learned. He reverently put the leaves in to steep and stood idly by as he counted down the seconds until it was done. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he concentrated on not spilling a drop as he carried it over.

“How’s the scone?”

“It’s amazing. Not too much lavender, which is perfect.”

His grinned at the praise.

“Jeongguk?”

“Hm?” he was absently licking his lips and you were momentarily distracted by the action.

“You have a lot of family here?”

He stopped short with a confused look on his face, like you had caught him completely by surprise. His mouth fell open and the café lights reflected off his wet bottom lip. Questions formed in his eyes as he cleared his throat. A second later, he was smiling as if nothing had happened.

“Not anymore,” he sighed. “My sister was the last to leave maybe two years ago. My mom died right before I moved to China and my dad went to live with my brother. ‘Can’t stand to be here without her anymore.’ I get it; I just get lonely from time to time for my family.”

You picked at the scone on your plate as you tried to contemplate the best response to give him. “Do they not come visit? Do you get to go see them?”

“Oh, yeah! I visit as often as I can and my siblings still come, but my dad won’t. It’s too hard for him to be here.”

“Your mom must have been a very wonderful lady.”

You sipped quietly as you watched his eyes. He looked beyond you, out the window, at something you knew you couldn’t see even if you turned around. The muscles in his face relaxed, smile slipping, and the gleam in his eyes shined a little brighter as tears pooled in the bottom of his eyes. He sniffed quickly as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“She was.”

You weren’t going to ask more than he was willing to offer, so you smiled at him instead. He choked out a laugh as he reached for your empty plate.

“She was my biggest supporter in this endeavor.”

He turned to put the plate away and your attention wandered to the shelf of jars in front of you. How many of them were woven with the sorrowful love he held in his heart? He had so many teas with so many specific treatments that you began to wonder how much of himself Jeongguk had put into his creations.

“So, where’s your family?”

Fuck. You had to open your big mouth and ask him about the F word and now he was curious about you. You did not ask him if he were married so maybe you could skate around the subject as well.

“My parents live in Andong and I’m an only child, so no interesting siblings to speak of.”

He seemed satisfied enough with your answer and went back to busying himself with putting the jars back where they belonged.

You looked around and noticed the other man in the café had left at some point and neither of you had noticed. Soft music flowed lackadaisically through the air around you. Light filtered in through the dried flowers as the sun traveled across the sky and you watched the shadows dance on the indoor greenery. If there were a roaring fire and maybe a few lightening bugs dancing about you would have thought you were in a fairy’s house. Everything about the café seemed small and comfortable, but large and magical all at once. If Jeongguk offered to make you potions you would not have been surprised.

“Would you like anything else?” His expression was just as you had seen him when you first walked through the door, happy and full of life.

“No, actually I need to do some grocery shopping before I starve in my own home.”

“Well, if you ever want actual food I know how to cook as well.”

“Is there anything you don’t know how to do?” you asked grabbing your bag. Pulling out a few won, you laid them on the counter as you swiveled on the stool.

He mocked concentration as he looked around the room.

“Well,” he smirked, “I can’t sew.”

“I’m surprised. I’d probably not think twice about if I came here tomorrow and you had knitted me a sweater.”

“I can crochet,” he said with a point and wink in your direction.

“Of course you do.” You were laughing, already easing into a comfort you hadn’t felt with anyone for a while.

That’s when the guilt hit. It was like a punch to the stomach and as if someone had reached inside your chest and started to squeeze your heart. Your breath caught suddenly the room swayed ever so slightly around you. An echo of your husband’s voice telling you he loved you bounced around in your mind.

“Hey, are you okay?” his question was muffled at first and you weren’t sure what he said. It took only a few seconds of your addled mind to decipher his words. “You look a little pale.”

The pain in your chest eased just enough for you to retain some composure.

“I think I stood up too fast.”

“Ah, might have something to do with the altitude here. Here,” he said grabbing a jar at eye level. “Drink some of this before you go to bed tonight.” He pulled a small baggie and filled it with just enough tea to make a cup. “On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He was all smiles as he handed the baggie over.

“You spoil me.” You tried to bring humor back in the conversation, tried to be your normal self, but even you could hear the sadness in your voice.

Jeongguk seemed to notice, but only smiled when he caught your eye.

“Have a good rest of your day, _____, and don’t forget to drink that tonight.” He pointed towards the bag as he wiped the imaginary water off the same cup for the nth time. “It’ll also help you sleep.”

You felt the first set of tears start to well in your eyes. Saying a rushed goodbye, you slipped from the shop, forgoing the grocery store and walked home as fast as possible. As soon as the door shut behind you, your back connected to the wood and you slid down hard onto the floor. Fresh, hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed into your hands. If a literal stranger showing you kindness made you feel this guilty then how were you going to survive this move? At least in the city you never really saw the same person twice unless you were loyal to a coffee shop (which you weren’t) and at your previous job no one had paid much mind to you. You internally berated yourself for being so disloyal to your husband. ‘Til death do you part and beyond. Your heart ached for him every day. Some days it was a dull pain, others you could barely get out of bed, but grief was strange; you’d often forget he was dead. It was like walking up a set of familiar stairs in the total darkness, having counted them millions of times, but every now and again you miscount and take one more step than necessary at the top. Your body lurches, panicked as if falling through space and suddenly your adrenaline is pumping because surely, you’re about to fall, then your foot hits the ground. You’re brought back to the present, a little stunned and uneasy. Your heart settles back to its normal beating and reality sets in. Some things can be forgotten, we become so used to the feeling being there that we forget we even have them until we trip up and our minds betray us; showing us just how lonely we truly are.

The house had fallen dark when you woke up on the floor. Your body was stiff and sore from having been on the ground for so long. A few hours had passed since you came home, your stomach grumbled, and you internally berated yourself for not going to the grocery store earlier. You groaned as you pushed yourself to your feet and tried to adjust to your surroundings. Having been expecting a package, you turned and opened the door not to be met with what you had planned to see there, but a small bundle with a note on top. Bending over slowly, you picked both up to inspect them more closely. The script on the cardstock was perfect, so perfect in fact that you thought it was typed but the smudges of ink gave it away.

“I didn’t see you head in the direction of the store, so I made you a bento. Hope you like it! -JJK”

You wanted to cry again but you were all out of tears. The bento was neatly sealed and placed inside a beautifully woven bag. Bringing it inside you sat it on the counter and popped open the lid. Inside was marinated beef, onigiri, steamed vegetables, and a few pieces of sushi. You grabbed a pair of chopsticks and stuck a piece of beef in your mouth and moaned inwardly. Having lived in the city your entire life you thought you had tasted it all, but this beef was cooked so perfectly it seemed to melt in your mouth. You were in the middle of enjoying this perfect meal when you heard it. A soft mew floated on the breeze and through your open window. Listening again and tilting your head in that direction, it came a little louder the second time. You walked to the window and leaned out. The night was a calm one, so the sea was quiet and all that interrupted the night was the sound of crickets…and a meow. Frowning, you ducked back inside and made your way to your back door. You rounded the house in the direction of the sound and heard it again in the bushes near your window. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you shone the light and a pair of eyes immediately glowed under one of the plants.

“Hey,” you whispered even though your nearest neighbor was several hundred meters away. The small kitten mewed again. “Where’s your mommy?” Mew? It seemed to say.

Getting on your hands and knees you crawled in its direction and much to your surprise, it bounded straight for you.

“Oh!” you cried as it jumped into your arms. Immediately, it started to nuzzle your neck and purr. “Well…okay.” You were a bit taken aback and puzzled at how soon this cat had warmed up to you. In the past, when you were around friends’ cats, they all steered cleared or hissed in your general direction.

You stood from your position and walked back inside to get a closer look at your new friend. Its fur was bright orange and even in the light its green eyes seemed to glow magically. Turning it over you discovered it was a girl.

“You’re a rare baby,” you said shifting it so that you could hold it like a baby. It played with your finger as you brushed along its belly, but it made no attempt to escape your hold.

“Kyongni,” you whispered as the name immediately popped into your head as you remembered your husband’s favorite epic, Toji.

The kitten immediately made eye contact with you and meowed loudly.

“You like that name?” You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face. “I bet you’re hungry.”

Setting her down on the floor you reached for a piece of your dinner and handed it to her. She immediately took the meat and started chewing furiously. Before you were ready to fall into your bed you had fed her some lunch meat, made a makeshift bed in a box by yours, and found a brush to get some of the dirt from her fur. Plugging in a heating pad, you placed it beneath the blankets and placed  her inside where she instantly curled up and closed her eyes. You looked at her and thought that maybe the following days didn’t have to be so sad after all.

After you made your tea, you sat in bed and sipped at the delicious blend he had yet again nailed. Embarrassment flooded through you as you thought of your day’s encounter with Jeongguk. As much as you didn’t want to face him again you were going to have to apologize for how you acted and thank him for the food.

That night you had no dreams or nightmares.

The next morning you awoke to Kyongni mewing loudly in her box. You rolled over to see her standing, paws on the edge of the box, and looking at you as if to say, “It’s about time you woke up.”

“Hey, sweet baby.” You swung your legs over the side of your bed and reached into the box. “Let me get cleaned up and find something for you at the store.”

An hour later, you had laid a few newspapers down just in case, sat out a bowl of water, and a promise to Kyongni that you’d be back later. She simply meowed and jumped onto your couch and onto the windowsill she had discovered.

Your walk would take you past the tea shop so you figured you would bite the bullet and pop inside. The shop was bustling, and it was the most amount of people you had seen in one place since you moved here. A group of older women sat at a table near the windows gossiping about someone who had recently left their book club for another, the same mysterious man you had seen was sitting at his same spot reading the newspaper, and a very disheveled mom was enjoying her first sip of tea as her baby sat slumbering in its carrier beside her. Jeongguk was busy helping a teenager pick a tea, ensuring her that it had more caffeine in it than her usual coffee order. He hadn’t noticed you yet, so you decided to take your spot at the bar and wait. You watched him as he worked, not having seen him interact with anyone else beside yourself. He gave the girl just as much rapt attention that he had been giving you and didn’t seemed the least bit put out that she couldn’t decide on what she wanted. His eyes wandered briefly and landed on you, beaming and giving a nod before turning back to the girl who was smelling various teas out of the jars he had placed on the counter. About ten minutes later, tea in hand, and happily walking out of the shop, the girl left, and he was standing before you.

“Hey, _____! Did you like the tea I gave you yesterday? I hope it helped with the dizziness.”

“It was lovely. Got a good night’s sleep, too.” You stared awkwardly at your hands as you picked at the imaginary dirt under your fingernails. “Look,” you started. “I want to apologize for the way I acted yesterday.”

Jeongguk looked puzzled when you finally decided to look at him.

“What?” You knew that he knew exactly what you were talking about but was trying to save you the embarrassment.

“I freaked out for a second. There’s a lot you don’t know about me and sometimes…,” you trailed off without knowing what else to say.

“Listen,” he said leaning forward on his elbows and you caught a whiff of him that caught you off guard. He smelled strongly of cinnamon and berries. “You’ve been through a traumatic experience that much I can tell.”

Your mouth fell open and he held up his hand to stop you from speaking.

“You don’t have to talk about it unless you want to. I get it. You don’t have to explain it to me. I’m just here to ease the pain a little bit.”

His face softened as he looked at you and at the same time so did your heart. Relief washed over you because now he knew.

“I…I’d like to talk about it…some time. If that’s okay?” You felt like a child; small and vulnerable, but your therapist had told you that talking about the pain would ease the sadness.

“Sure!” he said standing back up and acting like nothing had happened. “How about you come see the tea I’m growing right now? You can come by tomorrow if you’d like. It’s my off day.”

“I’d love to,” you smiled.

His gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he seemed to snap out of it. “Did you have something in mind for today?”

“Something to-go, please. I have a new friend at home.”

“Oh?” You saw something flash in his eyes before he turned to grab a jar from the shelf. He stopped talking or looking at you as he busied himself with the kettle.

“Yea,” you sighed dreamily, playing into the act. “Listens to everything I have to say, loves to cuddle…” You saw his shoulders slump slightly. “Purrs a lot and really loves beef.”

He turned to look at you inquisitively. “Did you say purrs a lot?”

“Yea, I found a cat. Or, I guess the cat found me. Showed up at my house last night so I need to go get supplies for it.”

“The grocery store has a small section,” he said setting the cup down in front of you with a look of relief on his face.

You sat money on the counter and grabbed the small paper cup, smelling near the opening and caught hints of lavender.

“Thank you, by the way, for the food. You didn’t have to do that.”

He scoffed and waved his hand. “No big deal.”

“It was all very good. You’re an extremely talented cook as well.”

His cheeks flushed a dark red color as he grabbed a towel and began wiping the counter.

“Here,” he said grabbing a napkin and a pen. He jotted something down and handed it over to you. “My number.” He coughed and scratched the back of his neck. “For, you know, tomorrow. I can text you directions.”

You reached to take the napkin from him and his fingers brushed against yours. Jumping slightly, you retracted your hand and placed the napkin in your bag.

“Thank you, Jeongguk,” you said holding up the tea. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yea,” he laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The shop seemed like a warm blanket that you had just pulled from the dryer and you were hesitant to leave it. Even with the chatter and Jeongguk busily moving things behind the counter, you felt peace here. Your heart swelled in your chest at the thought of being here once more and you were sad to leave its warm embrace.

The next day brought clear skies and sunshine. Kyongni was happily lounging at the foot of your bed when you awoke, and she blinked blearily at you as you sat up.

“Did you rest well?” you asked her, rubbing behind her ears as she purred loudly. She had loved the food you’d gotten and litterbox training, who? She was, in your opinion, the perfect cat. “I’m going to his house today.” She looked at you pensively before reaching out a paw and laying it on top of your hand. “Is this a good idea?” Her head cocked to the side as the stared at you. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.” She removed her paw and began to lick her fur. “You’ve convinced me.”

What should you wear? Why were you even thinking about this? Just dress like you normally would. After about fifteen minutes of telling yourself what you had decided to wear was fine, you dug through your bag for the napkin he had written his number on. Sighing deeply, you took the plunge.

[you]: Hey, Jeongguk, sorry if I’m texting a little early, but I wasn’t sure when you wanted me to drop by today.

That seemed simple enough. You didn’t want to sound too eager. It wasn’t a full minute later before your phone vibrated in your hand and you felt your heart lurch in your chest.

[Jeongguk] I’ve been up so you’re okay! Ummmm wanna come over in about thirty minutes? I’ll text the directions.

You had discovered early on that anything and everything worth getting to in town was within walking distance. The directions he had sent were simple enough. With a kiss to Kyongni’s head and a promise to call Ki in the event of your death, you headed out.

The walk took you all of thirty minutes. It would have been faster if you hadn’t stopped to examine some wildflowers you had never seen before. Jeongguk’s house was up on one of the hills behind town, not easily seen through the trees, but when it came into your view it took your breath away. It was two-story but small, painted a light green that matched the surrounding trees, and had an immaculate garden out front. He must have been watching because he eagerly stepped out of his front door and threw a dish towel over his shoulder. He wasn’t wearing a large sweater like he usually did at the shop, but instead had on a plain white t-shirt and joggers that showed the muscles you guessed he had and were made painfully aware of in that moment.

“Hey!” he called out while walking down the steps. “I hope you’re hungry because I made brunch.”

“If I would have known that I would have brought something.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re my guest.”

He turned and headed back inside, and you followed dutifully behind. The inside of his house was just as cozy as his café. The smells emanating from a yet unseen kitchen had your mouth watering. You followed him into this kitchen, and you were met with a comforting sight. Much like the café, herbs were strung up in the windows that lined the entire back side of the house. Out past them was an even bigger garden and several different rows of tea bushes. A fat, white cat laid on a hammock hung in the corner and in direct contact with the morning sun. It blinked lazily at you with large, blue eyes before closing them and laying back down again.

“That’s Bungeoppang…he loves fish,” he said shyly.

“Fish bread hardly has fish in it,” you laughed.

“Yea, but he’s cute like fish bread.”

He started grabbing several small dishes of banchan and brought them over to the large table by the windows.

“If you want to help, I kinda overdid it with the small dishes if you can bring them over here,” he laughed as he balanced three on his forearm.

Setting your bag down you quickly walked over to the counter and surveyed the damage he had done. Ssamjang, dongchimi, gyeran mari, spicy tuna, and many others dotted the counter amongst vegetable refuse and shavings of ginger.

“You really did out do yourself.”

“I got excited, okay?” His smile was wide as he came up beside you to grab a large bowl of rice. “I don’t get visitors often.”

Your heart hurt in your chest at his boyish, dopey grin and his admission at being excited to have you over but you quickly dampened the feeling before you let it get the best of you. You both quickly moved every dish he had made over to the table and before long, you were both trying to figure how to move them so that’d you would both have a place to sit. Jeongguk scratched the back of his neck as he looked down, scooting plates here and there and stacking the ones that could be without mess. Once the both of you were settled, he handed you a pair of lovingly worn chopsticks. The few moments of comfortable silence as the both of you started to eat was only broken here and there when something was asked to be passed. You were each sated well enough to begin a conversation before long.

“I needed that. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I walked in here and smelled that pork belly,” you said while reaching for more cucumber kimchi.

“Well, besides the meat, all of this comes off the property.” Jeongguk gestured proudly at the dishes around as if he were a king looking over his treasures.

“You even made the kimchi?”

“I have a few onggi’s in the back,” he said so matter-of-factly as if every household had one.

“I have a few onggi’s in the back,” you said back in a mock tone.

His face flushed red immediately as he started to defend himself. “It’s just! You know! I can make so much at once! Who wants to go to the store all the time?”

“No, no, no,” you said between laughing, “I love it! You just sound like my grandma is all. Living in the hills and making your own kimchi.”

“The young today would do well listening to their elders,” he said regally.

Lunch passed by lazily. He had opened the windows next to the table and a cool breeze aired out the house. A mixture of florals and something spicier wafted into your nose.

“Gonna show me what’s out there?” you asked, pointing a chopstick out the window.

“Of course. Are you done?” He wiped his mouth and placed his napkin on the table before standing up from the pillow he sat on and reached out his hand to you. At first, you were surprised, and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter. A single bird chirped outside, and you heard Bungeoppang meow softly.

“…I mean, if you don’t want help that’s okay, too,” you heard him say as he was slowly pulling his hand away.

“No!” you said lunging forward and grabbing his hand almost a little too desperately. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking about yo-something.” You tried to quickly cover up your blunder. He didn’t seem to notice as he smiled again and helped you to your feet.

“I’ll worry about his later,” he said pointing towards all the uneaten food. He walked to the door and opened it before turning to you expectantly. Bungeoppang jumped off his hammock to walk in and out of his legs before trotting off to a spot beneath a tree. The garden buzzed both mentally and physically. The same feeling as the café and his home bled into the garden as well; you searched for the source of the power, but it seemed to be all around you. Bees buzzed lazily amongst the wildflowers he had planted along the path to the rows of tea bushes. You followed a few feet behind him and watched him as he walked. All the flowers seemed to turn from the sun and face him as he passed; only going back to their original positions as you walked by. Butterflies followed behind him and would then light on the flowers, fluttering their wings and spreading them in the sunlight.

“Camellia sinenis,” he said lovingly as he ran his fingers amongst the leaves of one bush. “Green tea.” He turned and smiled at you and he seemed even more supernatural in his element. No matter where he stood the sun seemed to shine behind him as if to say, ‘Look at him!’

The sound of trickling water reached your ears the further you walked between the rows, Jeongguk calling out the names of each one as if they were his beloved children.

“And these,” he said throwing both arms out wide, “are my koi fish!”

Ahead of you was a pond about ten feet long, five feet wide, and probably no more than three feet deep but several kois swam right below the crystal surface. They varied in color from bright orange, to solid white, and one was even decorated in splashes of orange, white, and black. A golden colored koi seemed to notice Jeongguk first and raced towards the edge of the pond, followed closely behind by the rest. They swarmed the surface excitedly and the water churned amongst their fins. Jeongguk reached for a plastic container under one of the nearby bushes and pulled a handful of food from it and threw it towards the swarm. He held the container out to you, and you grabbed a handful, delighting in the activity below you.

“The gold one is my favorite and my only one. Her name is Geum. She’s my very first koi, probably around six years old now.”

“This is beautiful, Jeongguk.”

“You really think so?” The way he looked at you told you he was yearning for approval. Perhaps his dad hadn’t come in a long time? It must be lonely in such a large house alone.

“I mean it,” you smiled.

“Come sit,” he said as he gestured towards a large, hand carved wooden bench. The designs along its back and arms were intricate and worn a little with age. “My mom carved it.” Jeongguk noticed you running your finger along the wing of a bird.

You looked at him, wide-eyed. “She made this?”

“My creativity came from her.”

“You must be a lot like her.”

Jeongguk stared wistfully out at the fish who now resumed their lazy swimming about the pond.

“I’m sorry…,” you whispered.

“Oh! It’s okay! I was just thinking about her is all. I just…you know, I don’t take time to think about her like I should anymore. I’ll see things here and there that will remind me of her. Hell,” he laughed, “sometimes I catch myself talking to her like she’s here. She was my biggest inspiration…and my biggest loss.”

You both sat in silence for some minutes more before he spoke up again.

“I almost let this place go when she died. I didn’t harvest any of the teas that year, weeds were overtaking everything, the pond was even filled with all types of weeds and scum. But then one day I had a dream about her. She was sitting in the garden out here and it was beautiful. The day was bright.” He squinted up at the sun as he spoke. “There were bees, butterflies, and birds flying about amongst the tea bushes. No weeds, nothing. And I just sat with her. She didn’t speak, she just held my hand and when I woke up, I felt so…relieved. The next day I came out here and started cleaning the place up and I haven’t looked back since.”

Your mouth vomited the words before your brain could catch up. You were caught up in Jeongguk’s somber story and your heart ached for him and suddenly you wanted to relate to him so he wouldn’t feel alone.

“My husband died.”

You saw him twitch slightly and his grip tightened on the arm of the bench. He turned his body towards you and reached out as if he wanted to hold your hand but drew back.

“I…I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were married.”

“Why should you? It’s not your fault and it’s okay…really. I honestly never planned to just dump that on you.”

“I don’t know what it’s like to lose a spouse, but I am, obviously, very well versed in loss; if there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m all ears.” His smiled broadened at the end of his statement, reeling you into his comfortable aura once more.

What could it hurt to tell him? It wasn’t like you were hiding some huge secret.

“Well,” you sighed, “he had a brain tumor.”

Jeongguk sat patiently beside you, not a sound coming from his side save for the occasional tap of fingernail against the wood and the shuffle of his feet in the gravel around the bench.

“Very aggressive. He died three years ago. We met in high school and dated through University. We got married before we graduated. Then, we got our dream jobs. We thought we had it made; we were good financially, our jobs were going well, we got a new house, and we were even talking about kids.” Your voice trailed off at the end as you thought about the children you would never get to meet. Your silent guardian shifted ever so slightly to let you know he was still listening.

“He died within the month that we found out.” Jeongguk’s nails scraped along the wood as his hand made a fist; he was anxious but wasn’t trying to show it. “Of course, I stayed there, I didn’t know what else to do. His family and I…didn’t really get along very well after and we eventually became estranged. They’re still oddly nosey about my life, though. Then, I decided there was nothing tying me there anymore, so I decided to pack up and leave. My life felt like it had a dull, gray film over it all the time. Every time I rounded a corner in my house, I expected him to be there smiling at me while he typed on his computer or sat in the reading nook with a cup of tea, or…,” your voice caught at the end. Jeongguk’s fingers spread out wide on the bench and he moved his hand until his pinky barely touched your leg. “What I wouldn’t have given to see him walking through our front door just one more time.” You had to stop, or you would be in full blown tears before too long.

Once more, silence fell between you. Nothing was strange, his hand stayed steady beside you on the bench, and you willed your tears to not fall. The sun was making its journey across the sky and by Jeongguk’s deduction, it was probably somewhere around 2:00.

“Come on,” he said getting up suddenly. His movements knocked you out of your daze. “I picked some fresh peaches today and I bought some fresh cream from Mrs. Kim, so I have dessert for us.”

“Spying on me? Peaches are my favorite fruit,” you said, trying to lighten the mood once more.

“Lucky guess!” he called back as he headed down the path between the bushes.

Bungeoppang was laid out on his side, still under the tree, and very much asleep as you passed. Once inside the kitchen, Jeongguk removed previously sliced peaches from his refrigerator, placed some in two bowls, and poured cream over them. He grabbed a bento box and brought it to the table with him as the both of you ate. While chewing, he began grabbing bits of the several dishes in front of him with chopsticks and was quickly filling the bento until it was neatly packed. He secured the band around it and stuck it in a bag before tying it shut and sitting it beside you.

With his mouth full he said, “In case you get hungry tonight, or you can have it for lunch tomorrow.”

“You really don’t have to-“

“You think I’m gonna eat this all myself?”

You laughed at his exaggerated gesture of sweeping his arm out across the table as his eyes bulged.

“I guess you’re right.”

That was when you felt it. The first little bit of stabbing pain you hadn’t expected to come back so soon, if at all. That first sting in your heart when your husband died was the worst it had ever been. Days after, the pain in your chest only subsided when you were able to get a few precious moments of sleep. Months later, the pain was dull, but still ever present. A year and then two went by and the pain only came on rare instances when you were having a really bad day. When his words and his comfort was needed the most was when you felt that stab straight through your heart. Yet, here you were, accepting the hospitality of a new friend and you felt the sting. Guilt blanketed you like an old friend, grasping at your shoulders and whispering in your ear. Your smile faltered as Jeongguk looked on and his expression changed to that of confusion before quickly painting a smile on once more.

“I think there is a storm coming in this afternoon. Don’t worry about helping me here, I can clean up, and you need to get home before the weather gets bad.”

He stood up quickly from where he sat and grabbed a couple of plates to bring into the kitchen. You grabbed your bento and bag. The sting was starting to subside and soon you felt guilty for possibly making Jeongguk feel bad.

“I can’t thank you enough for today,” you began. “I really enjoyed everything, and you have a beautiful home here. I only hope to have a garden like yours one day.” You tried to make your smile genuine.

“Well, if you ever need tips, I’m your man.”

“Thank you, again,” you said as you walked to the front door, him following close behind to let you out.

“I’ll see you at the shop then?” He was looking at you with a question in his eyes and high expectations on the rest of his face.

“Of course,” you smiled. Maybe you said it awkwardly. Maybe he hadn’t even noticed your change in mood. You waved before turning and headed back down into town and home.

The sky overhead started to turn a dark shade of gray. You had had no idea that it was even supposed to rain today. Winds picked up and blew leaves across your path. Your chest felt tight and once again, the stabbing pain of guilt seemed like the lightning now streaking the skies. Seconds after you shut your door against the howling wind, the sky opened up. Kyongni trotted out of your room and into the hallway in greeting, rubbing against your legs and purring.

“Is the storm scaring you?” you asked as you picked her up. She only stared at you with sleepy eyes as she continued to purr.

The hot bath you took did nothing to settle the uneasiness in your bones. The wind became high pitched as it came through cracks in the windows and the rain beat hard against your roof. Maybe a book would distract you, but you soon found out that even that wasn’t enough right now. You settled, then, to just turn off the light and lay in darkness. Lightning flashed outside, creating stark shadows against your wall. Turning over, you reached out to Kyongni who lay beside you, curled up, and fast asleep. Why did the weather outside match what you were feeling inside? A storm of emotions seemed to push and pulse inside your heart. On one hand, you were thankful for Jeongguk. He had accepted you with open arms as soon as you moved here and made you feel at home. He had even invited you into his own home. That didn’t mean anything. On the other hand, everything you were doing was wrong. Jeongguk is nice, good-looking, single, and you shouldn’t be talking to him. You had taken vows, to hell with ‘til death do you part’ you had promised someone your life. Even though he was dead, any other feelings you had towards anyone else made you feel as if he would find out. He would find out you were cheating and somehow, he’d never forgive you for it.

What was so wrong with making friends? But you knew, deep down inside, you had come to like Jeongguk. Not just for his boyish good looks, but because of how open, forgiving, friendly, and almost loving he had become. Not loving in the way of falling in love, but of the small gestures; sending you home with tea, leaving food at your door, and inviting you to see his passion.

Maybe if you didn’t pursue it…maybe Jeongguk didn’t even slightly feel the same way as you and you were just overthinking this entire situation. You sighed knowing you weren’t going to be giving yourself any more answers tonight. Brushing your hand along Kyongni’s fur, you finally fell asleep amidst the storm.

You were four months into your new routine in life. Every day, unless you were sick or otherwise detained, you were at the café ready to greet the day with a warm cup of tea. Sometimes Jeongguk would have a new creation for you to try or he’d subject you to a Frankenstein’s monster pastry that he “dreamed of” the night before. Every day he’d greet you with the same huge smile. You had never seen the sadness in his eyes that he held when he talked about his mother again. Sometimes, he would have a bento made of food that he kept tucked away until you arrived.

“You know I can cook, right?” you asked him one day, jokingly, as you passed a cleaned bento box from a previous lunch he had given you.

He simply shrugged as you both passed the boxes. “Sometimes I make too much food.”

But you knew he didn’t. Sometimes, the fruit inside the boxes were so fresh they had to have been cut the same day, if not minutes before your arrival.

On this day, you had entered the café to see the same mystery man reading his newspaper and the chattering book club.

“Have you been to that Italian restaurant in town?” He had asked this while leaning on both elbows, gazing around the café, but not having a direct conversation with you in that moment.

“Are you talking to me?” you asked, but first you had checked behind you to make sure no one else was near.

“Yes, silly. Who else?”

“I thought someone had walked up.”

“So, have you been?”

“Where?”

“Oh my god, ______,” he said rolling his eyes before laughing, “the Italian restaurant, do you not listen to anything I say?” He said it in a mock tone that you had used several times to make fun of your ex mother-in-law.

“No,” you giggled, “I have not. I make food and sometimes I get so much food from you that I don’t have to worry about groceries for a week.”

He stuck his tongue out at you as he rotated his elbows just enough to face you.

“Would you like to go? It can be on me.”

You willed your traitorous heart to stop beating so fast because you were sure he could probably hear it. You were also telling the nagging voice in the back of your brain to shut up.

“Like…a date?”

He sputtered and stood straight at the counter. “I…uh, well…not necessarily…I mean if you wanted it to be I guess, but…uh…we could just,” he started to grab things and frantically organize in a panic, “I could just meet you there I suppose,” he knocked a container full of sugar on the counter, “Crap. So, it’s not a big deal if you-“

“I’d love to.”

His head shot up and he was looking at you with large eyes. Shock was written across his features and you hadn’t even known his eyebrows could go up that high.

“Really?”

“Why not? Let’s do it,” you smiled. You were surprising yourself at how calm you were being. The last few months had been a lesson on forgiveness; forgiving yourself and the actions you deemed “inappropriate”. Doing so had let Jeongguk in a little more and you found yourself feeling a little less guilty and little more drawn to him.  

He blew out a heavy sigh of relief, hip hitting the counter as he slumped, and threw a towel over the mess he had made.

“I was trying to think of an exit strategy while I was talking. That’s why I was all over the place,” he mumbled as his cheek pressed against his arm.

Your heart melted a little and your body relaxed as you watched his internal struggle. Despite being just as anxious as you, he managed to always calm you in some way. Being in the café only seemed to heighten his supernatural ability to leave you both breathless and relieved.

“When would you like to go, you anxious little bun?”

He stood straight then, chest out, and a proud look on his face. “Anxious? Me? Also, bun?”

You felt your face burn red at the pet name you had mentally given him and just decided to blurt out like an idiot. Maybe your friendship wasn’t as comfortable as you thought.

“Forget I said that,” you said quickly.

“Oh, hell no. Bun?!” he started to laugh and you saw the man in your peripheral shift his newspaper a little to peer over the top.

“Jeongguk, shut up,” you whispered.

He leaned on his forearms across the counter and got extremely close to your face as he stared in your eyes. You leaned back a little, but your gaze didn’t waver.

“Explain yourself,” he said seriously, but you saw joy swirling in his eyes.

“When you smile…you look like a little bunny,” you said while finally breaking eye contact. You couldn’t look him in the face as you said it.

His smile reached his eyes and they disappeared as he laughed.

“Cute.”

You wanted to die. You were so caught up in him asking you out that you decided to let your guard slip too much.

“Anyway, when would you like to go?”

“Tomorrow? I can close up early.”

“Deal.”

“Not a date anymore?” he winked, but you could see he was seeking validation.

Butterflies swirled in your stomach and there seemed to be several dozen vying for space to fly. You couldn’t help the genuine smile that you gave him in that moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jeongguk,” you said standing from your chair.

He grinned knowingly at you, the most flirtatious you had seen him in a while.

Friday morning was met with the perfect temperature as you sat outside on your back porch with Kyongni in your lap. You were going to forego the tea shop today in favor of cleaning around the house and then getting ready for your “date” later. Standing from your chair as soon as Kyongni jumped down to pursue a lizard, you walked over to the edge of the house to look out towards the water. Down the hill and in town, it was bustling with activity with the fishermen cleaning up for the day and leaving the smaller fish out for the hovering birds. It all seemed normal…it all seemed right. You finally felt good about being here and it was all falling into place.

What you couldn’t see was the storm just beyond the horizon, lying in wait, ready to lay waste to anything it touched.

[nobody-wants-ice-cream]

Everything Wrong With The Umbrella Academy. Episode 7, The Day That Was.

We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals

Run Boy Run

Extra Ordinary

Man on the Moon

Number Five

The Day That Wasn’t

Disclaimer: This is all in good fun! I wanted to do a really nitpicky re-watch of the series and found some really cool and interesting things I didn’t notice before. This is meant to have a Cinema Sins-esque tone. However, I did take off a lot more sins than Cinema Sins would have because I do genuinely like the series and the people that made it possible. So all of the good things got one sin off and all the bad things got one sin added. This is a really long post, so grab some popcorn. If there’s anything that I missed, feel free to add it!

I would also like to add that normally you wouldn’t watch a show this way. I am purposefully looking for mistakes, easter eggs, and other things that we’re not supposed to notice. I am watching not with the goal of entertainment, but for analysis. So most of the things that I sin, I am seeing for the first time.

Also, no I can’t do better. I am in no way qualified to give this level of criticism about anything.

[Look out for the fic challenge at the end! I’m tagging @tehmoonofficial @seven-misfits @princenewton @tua-koffee and anyone else who wants to try it. Tag other people if you would like!]

The Day That Was

The use of “One is the Loneliest Number” by Three Dog Night implies that this is Luther’s birth. I know that that isn’t what they’re trying to convey so this is a very weird song choice. It would be way too on the nose if it was Luther, but it would fit so well. In fact, before Pogo said that it was the culmination of a normal pregnancy, I thought it was Luther when I was first watchin it.Point is, scoring is important. +1

No one is attending to this mother which is why she dies. Seriously, if just one person in that room was with Harold’s mother then any problems would have been noticed far earlier. I know this show likes to kill off women to further the plot, but this one happens to be excessively stupid. +2

There’s a woman in scrubs who doesn’t appear to be sterile in the room. Even Harold’s father is sterile. For those who don’t know, I’m talking about a lack of germs. +1

Harold playing with the Umbrella Academy action figures is adorable and makes sense. However, why the hell would his abusive father buy these for him? Something doesn’t add up. Where did he get these from? Did he steal them? In that case, stealing is bad. Sin still stands. +1

Dr. Terminal better appear in season 2. -1

Ben’s action figure includes the horror. This makes sense, but then how did Ben pose for this? Did he just sort of stand like that and let the sculptor take liberties with what the horror looked like? How were these modeled and designed? +1

“Put those stupid dolls away and go get me a beer” obvious abusive father is obvious. +7

Also, abusive fathers. +7

I didn’t notice that Harold’s house is the same as Leonard’s house when I first watched it because of the change in angle and lighting. This is clever. -1

Has anyone taken a good look at the Klaus action figure? That thing looks ridiculous! +1

Harold stops to look at a comic now and not later when his Dad isn’t demanding a beer. Then again, I am questioning the logic skills of a thirteen-year-old. So this sin is once again for the abusive dick for for not letting Harold be a child. +1

Seriously, where did Harold get all this stuff? Merch is expensive. And so are suit jackets. And tape. And a whole bunch of his supplies. +1

Seance seems pretty popular. Good. I love Klaus. But there is no indication that he did anything during missions, so why do these people love him? Show me his charisma or something? Give young Klaus a scene that shows why the people love him. +1

Are these barriers only there after missions? And if this is normal enough that there are barriers, then why aren’t there more people hounding the academy when Five runs away for example? How famous are these kids? +1

Harold you poor child. He even packed a bag and everything. Reggie is not better than your abusive father. Sin for Harold’s father and for Reggie. +2

No one stops Harold from jumping over the barrier. Not even the other fans saying something like “dude don’t do that”. Nothing. Who is enforcing these barriers? +1

Luther walked out of the car first and now he’s behind Allison. Since when does Luther have Five’s power?+1

Allison looks really uncomfortable. How many grabby fans has this young girl had to deal with? +1

Eden Cupid plays this really well. -1

How many grabby fans has Eden Cupid had to deal with?? +1

Reggie orders Harold behind the barricades. So is it Reggie enforcing it? Or what? +1

If it’s the academy enforcing it through Reggies orders then why didn’t Diego, Klaus, or Ben stop Harold? Or does this not matter because Luther was in front of them? This is confusing. Where is everybody? +1

Reggie is a dick. “You have no power”. Is that really the best way to deal with the situation? A better man may have said something like “You may not have powers but that doesn’t mean you aren't special. Run along now.” But then again, this is the same dick that drugged his daughter because he couldn’t control her powers so yeah. Fuck you, Reggie. +3

In the wide shot, Harold’s suitcase disappeared and some policemen magically appeared out of thin air. +1

Why are all these people laughing at Harold? After what Reggie just said there should be outrage? What the hell, people? +1

Some of these people include grown ass adults. +1

Reggie manhandles Harold and no one questions this. +1

Second hand embarrassment and shame. I really feel for this kid. -1

Where are the little umbrella mounts that the action figures are supposed to be standing on in this establishing shot of Harold’s collection? We see them on the collection in the academy. Is this supposed to imply that Harold stole them? I am confused. +1

We can see a piece of paper that has the words Klaus and Harold written on it in different colored crayon. Set designers, you win this one. -1

Why are the action figures going by their names instead of their hero names? It’s been established based on the posters the people had behind the barricades that “The Seance” and “Spaceboy” exist. So why the real names? If it’s because Harold is desperate for friends then the sin also applies. +1

In a close shot we can see that Harold must have taken those platforms off and glued them to this construction paper based on a weird deformity on Five’s foot. Sin still stands because Harold ruined those. In fact, I’ll add another sin, because this doesn’t explain how he separated them. If it was an exacto knife then sin for letting a child handle that. +1

Harold makes collages of the academy kids faces. Cute and a good set design choice. -1

You can see the moment when Harold decides to kill his father. That is some great acting, Jesse Noah Gruman. -1

You know, for all we rag on Harold for killing his abusive father, there are a surprising amount of fics in which the Hargreeves siblings kill their abusive father. Either we’re cool with killing abusive fathers or we aren’t, fandom. +1

Speaking of, we often use “cool motive, still murder” to describe this scene. But no one has a problem with the amount of people Five killed. +1

Harold got twelve years in jail even though there were signs of abuse. He had a bruise on his face! Any lawyer should have been able to get Harold out of jail. Even a public defender can’t deny this evidence. Harold should have pled guilty and he would have gotten a lighter, if no sentence at all. [I am not a lawyer, do not take this as legal advice. This is based on various crime shows and some law youtube channels. Also, don’t kill people.] +1

Why was Harold following Klaus? Popular theories include wanting to kill him or use him the way he uses Vanya. I am sinning this because it remains unclear. +1

The Leonard/Harold reveal is beautifully executed. This is how you do a plot twist. -1

Reggie refers to Klaus by name and by 00.04 in his journal. Why the inconsistency? If you know his name, why not use it all the time, Reggie? +1

In 2001, the kids were twelve. Reggie locked Klaus in the mausoleum as young as 12 and probably younger if the credit for 8 year old Klaus is anything to go by. +4

Reggie’s notes say that Klaus is resistant to this. No fucking shit, a child is resistant to facing their greatest fears with no support. +4

Title screen is on the umbrella in Reggie’s journal. Classy. -1

Five tosses Allison’s coffee behind him when he’s done with it. This goes back to his Apocalypse days, but you would think that sort of thing was frowned upon in the Commission. Or was really obvious during any missions he had as an assassin. Why is he doing this? +1

At the end of episode 6, Five slurps the coffee but here there is no slurp after “Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?”. +1

Leonard hears Five saying that he [Harold] is responsible for the apocalypse. This does not alarm Leonard in any way and he continues stealing Hargreeves’s action figure. +1

Also, Harold Jenkins happens to be in the academy right now as they’re talking about trying to find him. Choke on that irony. +1

Repeat scene shows no indication that the information Harold just got changed his reactions in any way. You would think that he would show a little fear or something? +1

Five isn’t treating his injury despite the fact that it’s causing him obvious pain and he has access to Grace and an infirmary because plot? They could easily have this chat in the infirmary while Five is getting stitched up. Five has been shown treating his injuries and does seem to possess more than half a brain cell, so not taking care of the shrapnel wound is a weird deviation in his character. +3

Speaking of brain cells, thank goodness Allison has one because she is the one asking relevant questions here. -1

Klaus and Diego are still pissed at Five for getting drunk while Hazel and Cha Cha attacked the mansion. Good job with the consistency in character motivation, writers. -1

“Temps Commission.” Maybe season 2 will give us the Temps Aeternalis. +1

Aidan Gallagher’s delivery is okay, but not stellar. I think it’s the tone that’s off. I think I’m judging him too harshly. This is hard to deliver because it’s an exposition dump seven out of ten episodes in. So this sin goes to the writers for making these paragraphs- not lines, paragraphs- that deliver information the viewer already knows. At this point, cut the scene short or show Vanya and Leonard again so we can skip the second Commission lecture. +1

And the reactions that Diego, Allison, and Luther have are so varied because they have such different levels of understanding. Allison, who knows the least, asks “What do you mean, protect time and space?” This level of info dumping this late is dumb. +1

“I look like a thirteen year old boy.” No you don’t. Real thirteen year olds do not look like fifteen year old Aidan Gallagher. For example, look up what Gallagher looked like when he was actually thirteen. +1

“Klaus talks to the dead” oh so we’re just stating the obvious now. Who wrote this scene? +1

How does Five know Claire’s name? Just one shot of a magazine in his apocalypse bunker was all we needed. The magazine that says Patrick and Claire are doing just fine without Allison would have made perfect sense. +1

If we don’t get Five and Claire meeting at some point istg. Sin until they meet.+1

Once again, Luther the moon and the apocalypse are connected, just not in the way you think. Reggie, you suck. +1

“Klaus you’re with me.” Diego and Klaus make a great team. -1

Five’s face when Klaus says he’s feeling under the weather. Considering Five’s injury, this makes sense for the character. -1

Five gives that look to Klaus. Five, you’re hiding a life threatening wound for no reason. You don’t have room to judge. +1

The old man walk looks ridiculous. Five is so obviously injured and Allison and Luther, who watch as Klaus, Diego, and Five walk away, don’t notice this odd walk. +1

We follow Hazel instead of Cha Cha because their story in this episode isn’t affected by Five’s time travel decision. However, the only part of this story we need is the part at the end of the episode. +1

Diego is driving, Five has shotgun, and Allison is in the back. They totally fought over who would sit where. That scene would have been way more interesting than the Hazel and Cha Cha repeat scene. Also, I kind of want to write about that fight now. You know Five wanted to drive. And that when Diego insisted on driving so he and Allison wouldn’t get in trouble for letting a minor drive or something like that, Allison and Five fought over the passenger's side seat. Well adjusted or not, fighting over that seat is what siblings do. +1

Allison, you could just waltz in there and ask for it. Don’t suggest that plan if you aren’t going to do that. +1

Five’s power or Allison’s power would be very useful, yet Diego choses to get the file himself. This wastes valuable time. And Five is okay with that. +1

Five refers to his powers as “blink” not “jump” which is what the fandom has been calling it. +1

Five has not slept at all in a couple days. And he’s making decisions about the end of the world. +1

Diego “made a call. That’s what a leader does.” But the call he makes is fucking stupid. This is a grab the thing and get out mission. Two people in the academy have powers that would work wonderfully for this type of mission. And they happen to be right there. Even with Allison refusing to use her power, it’s stupid to not have Five just blink in and grab it. Diego is a shitty leader. +1

Beeman just tells Diego that he is the prime suspect in Patch’s murder. This is so dumb on so many levels. Sigh. +1

Beeman has already said shit that would make him lose his job. At this point he’s arguing with Diego to pad the episode’s run time. +1

Whoever did Emmy Raver-Lampman’s makeup for this scene screwed up her brows really bad. Or maybe just her brow highlight is messed up. Or the blending on her eyeshadow. +1

Five is just sort of standing there and leaning against the wall. This is supposed to be another hint that he’s injured but it just looks stupid. +1

Allison’s heartfelt message to Vanya shows remorse and a genuine want for connection. -1

See! This cut where Allison doesn’t explain to Five and Diego who Leonard is because the viewer already knows and this can therefore happen off screen is good! Use this more if you’re going to do episodes like this. -1

Luther turns to alcohol because he doesn’t feel like he has any support. I’m sad now. Poor Luther! -1

And my sympathy disappears when Luther starts choking Klaus. That is some fucking bullshit. +1

I understand that Luther is drunk and not capable of complex decisions right now, but this seems excessively cruel. I think this is on the writers and not necessarily on Luther himself. +1

Why isn’t Ben seeing this? Later on, it’s like Ben didn’t see what Luther did here. This sin makes more sense later on in the episode. +1

Klaus is genuinely trying to make Luther feel better after Luther just choked him. Klaus is a good brother. -1

Klaus suggests going to find Allison. It’s like he knows what happened last episode. Oh, show. And yes, you can argue that Klaus knows that Luther and Allison were close. Then my counter argument would be that Klaus knows Allison is off saving the world. Yes, helping Luther is important, but Klaus can do it. Klaus needs more faith in himself. +1

Luther’s smile when Klaus calls him Number One and starts quoting poetry at him. “O captain, my captain.” -1

This immediately transitions into crying. My poor babies. +1

Klaus attempts to say “that’s not true” but can’t because he knows that Reggie is the type of person to send someone to the moon so he doesn’t have to look at them. Reggie is a dick. +7

Luther looks so lost and broken and sad. Tom Hopper, you asshole. I am actually crying a little bit. I’ll take a sin off because Tom Hopper made me feel emotions. -1

Robert Sheehan is an excellent actor. -1

Luther shoves Klaus out of the way with no regard to where he lands. What if Klaus’s head hit that furniture! +1

The Hazel and Cha Cha scenes would have been stronger if we left them in the last episode. Maybe one or two establishing things to show that they aren't affected by the time change and that’s it. All we needed was the order to not terminate Five and one of the messages. That’s it. +1

Hazel has a birdwatching book which shows that he wants to learn about Agnes’s interests. Cute. -1

They are trying to imply some kind of relationship between Hazel and Cha Cha! Cha Cha having feelings for Hazel doesn’t make sense. +1

“So do most serial killers and mass murderers. I mean look at him” “Thanks.” The delivery of “thanks” always bothered me. It could have used a little more sarcasm. +1

Diego doesn’t wait for Allison or Five to open the door. Nor does he let them offer suggestions. +1

Diego doesn’t even test the doorknob. Dumbass. +1

Diego seems like one of the competent siblings until he does this mission with Five and Allison, who have the family brain cells. This is amusing, but also makes me question the badass Diego moments. +1

If we don’t get more Five and Allison in season 2 imma riot. These characters work so well together. +1 

The way they make fun of Diego together is peak sibling culture. -1

“You need to see this.” Please just stop giving Allison these bullshit lines. +1

Five’s run is weird. He’s lifting his knees really high. This is one of those things that I shouldn’t have noticed. +1

Bottom left poster. Klaus hit the woah sixteen years too early. +1

Harold had time to scratch their faces before going to jail or Leonard did this at some point as an adult. Creep. +1

He also mangled the action figures even further. +1

Five isn’t looking so hot because the plot demands it right now. He was perfectly fine cracking jokes with Allison earlier. +1

Looking closer at the wound, we can see that Five not taking care of it right away is total fucking bullshit. That looks serious and like it could get infected easily. Five, who grew up in an apocalypse, would know to take care of shit like that. If he didn’t then he would have died in the Apocalypse.+1

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Diego would be excellent at cinema sins. +1

Five doesn’t answer this question because the answer is “The writers needed a convenient way to get me out of the picture for a couple hours.” +1

Harold’s father took him fishing. I don’t want to know why. +1

“We don’t have to stay here. We can just get a shitty motel or something.” Or ya know, go back to your apartment, Vanya. Or is Vanya’s apartment like Five’s injury in that it only exists when the plot needs it. +1

Off topic, but why is Vanya talking about chord progressions with her beginner violin student. Chords and violin don’t go together when you first start learning. This is a weird example. +1

Leonard is a manipulative bastard. He knows exactly what to say to make Vanya bend to his will. +1

We aren’t even halfway through the episode and I have been doing this for over two hours. This says a lot about the kinds of sins this episode has. Right now we’re at the end of page 6. +1

Vanya followed Leonard to a cabin in the woods in the middle of nowhere. They’ve known each other for less than a week. I wouldn’t trust some of the people I’ve known for years the way Vanya trusts Leonard. +1

Hazel has known Agnes for less than a week and now he wants to run away with her. +1

Agnes is willing to run away with Hazel despite knowing him for less than a week. +1

Hazel and Agnes are using the “Life is short” thing, which it is, especially with the impending apocalypse, but that doesn’t change that they’ve known each other for less than a week. +1

“Her job’s her life.” so why don’t you show that, show? Cha Cha’s motivations make no sense. +1

Hazel and Agnes theme! I love that piece. -1

The way Hazel is holding her looks really funny. I am amused. -1

Ben pressuring Klaus to help Luther despite all the physical harm Luther did to Klaus. I am sinning this again. Why didn’t Ben see this? Or does he just not care? This is either a sin for the show for not remembering where Ben is or a sin for Ben for not caring about his brother. +1

Ben creates a shadow but he is supposed to be invisible. I don’t think that’s how light works. Is Klaus the only person that can see Ben’s shadow? Is Klaus sober enough that he’s starting to make Ben corporeal? How does this work? +1

Right now if anyone looked in that alley, Klaus would look fucking crazy. +1

The guy walking past doesn’t care that Klaus is talking to nobody right now. +1

“You weren't ready to die violently at a young age” yeah. Seventeen, based on the portraits. Why does Ben’s ghost not look bloody? And why does he look like he’s in his late 20s? Ben should still look seventeen right? If Justin Min, age 29, is meant to be playing a 17 year old, then I have some issues. +1

Can Ben sweat? +1

The “if you were in trouble” line is delivered really well. Nice. -1

Ben’s tough love is more of a pep talk now. I like this version of Ben. He’s a little misguided, but he sort of gets the spirit. Heh spirit, Ben, get it? -1

“We should have taken him to the hospital” Allison would be excellent at cinema sins. +1

“We gotta get the shrapnel out.” Yeah, but that is not priority one right now. Is there any pressure on the wound right now? +1

This repeat scene with Diego and Grace makes sense because it’s at a different time. -1

“Seven bars, three strip joints, and a laundromat.” Why the laundromat? +1

Ben’s shadow is even more pronounced now. +1

Convenient rave girl talking to herself about Luther with a good description is convenient. +1

“Holy Shit” said in unison. Nice. -1

Ben and Klaus wouldn’t know about Luther’s monkey transformation, so the reaction checks out but not the description. Maybe “big” was why they decided to check it out? +1

Rave girl thinks Luther is a furry. This is funny. -1

Luther offers Klaus drugs. That’s nice, I guess. -1

Offering your newly sober brother drugs. +2

Ben is honestly a life coach from hell. “Stay strong don’t give into temptation.” Remember your mantras. Meditate. Drink lots of water. +1

Though, that does make sense. A dead guy would be a shitty life coach. +1

What’s with the weird light on the pill that Klaus threw? Is that a secondary power? Being able to find drugs? +1

No one steps on or trips on Klaus, who is crawling around on the floor in a room full of high/drunk/whatever people. +1

Klaus’s flashbacks. Putting my boy through trauma. +1

Dave turns into the pill because the pill symbolises everything holding Klaus back from summoning Dave. Symbolism. -1

Grace is treating Five’s shrapnel wound in his room instead of the infirmary. +1

“Receptionist at her music school” wait. Vanya has another job teaching music? She has three jobs? How in the hell did she have time to do any of this stuff? +1

Allison’s face when Diego says Luther was right. That was amazing. Emmy Raver-Lampman, you genius. -1

The City has no people around right now other than Diego, Allison, and the cops. +1

“Why would you ask that about me?” because you carry pointy things and throw them into people, Diego. That’s why Allison asks if the police are right about you murdering someone. +1

Allison would be excellent at cinema sins. She reiterated my last point. +1

Why did they send that many cops to go arrest one guy? Did they expect the entire academy to fight them? +1

“You killed a cop, asshole.” Rodriguez did the police academy teach you nothing? You can’t say shit like that to a suspect? +1

Finally, someone reads Diego his Miranda rights. Doing the bare minimum is impressive for these cops. +1

Diego, you edgy bastard. Spitting on the ground? Great. Make these people even more pissed off then they already are. +1

Vanya’s power is mostly destructive and Leonard should know this based on the book. So why is he trying to get her to summon a boat? Or destroy a boat? This doesn’t make any sense. +1

“I watched everything my brothers and sister could do ruin their lives.” The Umbrella Academy in a nutshell. +1

Also, if you saw this, then why the fuck did you want powers, Vanya? +1

“Do I stare really hard? Am I supposed to point my fingers?” Actual conversation Ellen Page had with the director somehow made it into the show. +1

This scene is so underrated. It’s so funny watching the music swell and nothing happen. -1

“I look and I feel ridiculous. I have no idea how they did this stuff with a straight face.” -1

“You are so invested in this.” Yeah, girl. Red flag. +1

Convenient burning not obscuring the words of the “terminate Hazel” message is convenient. +1

Do we really need the repeat of Cha Cha getting the message? +1

Cha Cha doesn’t notice Hazel behind the curtain despite being a trained assassin. This is why Five was the best. +1

Hazel doesn’t kill Cha Cha. +1

Netflix subtitles have Ben saying “Oh shit, Luther” when it’s clearly Klaus saying that line. +1

Klaus’s desire to help his brother is stronger than his need for drugs. -1

For whom the bell tolls? The bell tolls for Klaus. +1

Little Girl on a Bike God takes her lines directly from the comics. -1

She plays the pronoun game with Klaus despite Her being all knowing. Or She does this to be an asshole. +1

The barber shop looks like a little barn from the outside. Clever misdirection. -1

“Nite Owl Barber Shop” -1

“Barber banter may offend” no kidding. With Reggie working there, need I say more. -1

The pictures of Luther, Diego, Reggie, Dave, Five, and possibly young Ben on the wall. -1

Five’s hair looks really dumb in the photo aslkdj;gaf. -1

Artful close up shot of Robert Sheehan’s face. -1

Reggie is a dick. “What in God’s name took you so long?” Maybe he didn’t want to see you, asshole. +1

Was Colm Feore actually shaving Robert Sheehan? +1

I am going to sin Reggie being a dick in advance here so I don’t have to sin every line. +20

Klaus brings up an interesting point. How did Reggie know about the apocalypse? +1

Klaus is crying when Reggie says that he killed himself to bring them all back together. On some level, Klaus cares for this man. Empathy. -1

Just as Reggie starts to say something important, he disappears because of course he does. If the characters actually spoke to each other about important things then there would be no plot. +1

Klaus was dead and now he’s not. Why didn’t he wake up in the apocalypse? +1

Kenny’s mom sighting. She’s at the rave. +1

Leonard pays these guys to beat him up. Did he also give them a script? +1

Vanya’s powers activate when the rain starts but only become visible when she fears for Leonard’s life. Good choice. -1

Hazel doesn’t kill Cha Cha. Killing her would help him out in so many ways, yet he doesn’t do it. Or remove his tracker. Or her tracker. Or anything. +1

“I’m in love” You’ve known her for a couple days at best. +1

“Wake up and smell the coffee.” This is part of the reason why I headcanon Five’s coffee addiction came from the Commission. +1

Hazel can’t bring himself to kill Cha Cha after she threatens him and the woman he “loves” because of years of friendship in a job he hated? That she loved? I’m confused. +1

Allison is going after Vanya alone. She is going to this cabin in the woods alone. Horror Movie 101, Allison. +1

Now Ben looks concerned. All it took was Klaus’s literal death. +1

Luther and the rave girl are both too high to consent? I don’t like the vibes. +1

Diego is in jail because of his own stupidity. +1

The police didn’t give him back his sling. The man is walking around with a gunshot wound, assholes. +1

The shot of the eye before the camera focuses on Five symbolizes Five putting the apocalypse before everything. -1

Vanya looks so scared in the hospital. Excellent acting. -1

The shot of the eye also reminds us that the eye exists at all which makes the eye reveal more dramatic. -1

Overall Review:

Okay, so if episode 5 is where the viewer truly learns what’s going on, then episode 7 is when everything truly comes together. All the loose plot threads fit themselves together in this episode. In fact, you could argue that the Leonard/Harold eye reveal is the most important reveal after the whole Vanya has powers reveal. The eye makes sense now. 

You know what? I challenge all the fic writers who read this to write a “watching the show” style fic, but only using this episode. Drop this episode on them in the middle of one of the early episodes and then have them try to stop the apocalypse based on it. Tag me when you’ve posted it and/or gift it to cherriesareneat on ao3. I will probably be writing my own version of this at some point. 

There are a ton of great moments in this episode. The important beats being the Harold/Leonard reveal, Five’s injury, Luther at the rave, Klaus’s death, Reggie’s reveal, Vanya’s powers reveal, and the eye reveal. These were mostly well executed with the exception being Five’s injury. 

Also, let me know if you prefer the long sins/short analysis style I’ve been trying out recently. 

Total: 152

Sentence: What is character motivation? Where am I? I am confused.

[themfchase]

blindfold (4)

Jeon Jungkook x reader

‒ blindfold. (m) ✎  [8k words]

genre: smut, nsfw, college!au, contract!au, light smut, and light fluff?

warnings: slight dry hump, angst, drinking. Strange things happen all the time, just like what you’re being offered by a strange tall man in a quiet coffee shop near campus. Strangers that you can’t see and only hear, and a strange boy that barely speaks but seems to be everywhere aren’t that common, on the other hand. But for some reason... You’re really keen on strange things. A/N: Part four is here and all I have to say so far is thank you! Really, the love I’m getting or this is overwhelming and makes me so happy! We’re reaching the end folks, so please, spread this ff everywhere HAHAHAH Reblog, like and do not shy from sending me a message. Love you. (btw, sorry, no smut in this chapter)

part 1. part 2.  part 3. part 5. part 6. masterlist. 

The party was loud and full this time, the strobe lights blinking while a hard base kicked at your chest when you walked in the frat house. Everywhere you looked there were people dancing, drinking and making out. As you made your way through the crowd you looked around the poorly lit room for Jungkook, instead, you see another familiar face. You squeezed your way through the crowd and smiled. "Hey Joon!" You greeted him as he looked up from the cup he was pouring a drink into and smiled. "You're turning into a party girl, aren't you?" He teased and you laughed. "I guess my mom was right and Malia is actually starting to have a bad influence on me." You said and Namjoon's smile weakened. You took notice, looking around for your friend who would usually be right next to him. You wanted to ask but didn't want to make the mood drop. "So, have you seen Jungkook? I'm supposed to meet him." You said looking around again and Namjoon's brows furrowed. "I haven't seen him since last night. I don't even think he went to class." He informed you, and you couldn't help but feel a little worried. "But, he could be in his room, the stairs are off limits so there might be someone guarding it, but go ahead and tell them I gave you the password." You raised an eyebrow. "A password? What are you all, eight?" You laughed and he shrugged. "What is the password?" Namjoon looked down, his cheeks turning a little red. "It's Crabs, but not the kind of crabs you think, I'm totally not down for STD's." He tried to explain, but all you did was just laugh. As you spun around and made your way through the crowd yet again to go find Jungkook, to your dismay there actually was someone guarding the stairs, but it was probably the last person you wanted to see. What was worse though, wasn't that he was there, no, what was worse was that he had a girl with him, an arm around her waist. If you were being honest with yourself, it didn't bother you because it was him, after everything that had happened in these past weeks you were more than over Yoongi. But seeing someone you had spent so much time with looking at another girl the way he once looked at you hurt. You slowly made your way towards your ex, his eyes completely focused on the redhead girl beside him. You were slightly nervous, but, you stopped in front of him and cleared your throat. His head moved your way and the smile on his face died down as soon as he saw who was interrupting him. "Hi." You gave him a weak smile. "I want-" You started to ask to go upstairs but Yoongi interrupted you. "Y/N, this really isn't cool, I'm with someone." He clutched the girl's waist tighter bringing her body closer to his, she seemed a little bothered by the obvious display he was making out of her. "I can tell, but-" You tried to speak again, and he rolled his eyes and scoffed. "We're over, Y/N, you really have to wrap your head around that and stop coming after me." With that, you crossed your arms and opened your mouth in outrage. "I'm not here for you, Yoongi." You stated and he gave you a condescending look. "Really? Oh come on, give me a break, a month ago you thought we were getting back together." He argued. "A month ago. As I said, I'm not here for you." You argued back. "Sure, who are you here for then?" He asked now letting go of the pretty redhead and crossing his arms. You opened your mouth to answer but a familiar voice interrupted you. "She's here for me." You looked up at the top of the stairs and Yoongi's head whipped around to face the quiet boy that shared a frat house with him. Jungkook was still, both hands in his pockets as he looked down on Yoongi. You smiled at the boy, he was so hot it made you blush a little. Yoongi looked from him to you and then back to Jungkook. "Jeon? You're here for Jeon?" He sounded a little outraged. Jungkook slowly made his way down the stairs one step at a time in an almost intimidating way that made you want to curl up, his eyes never met Yoongi's. As he reached the last two steps he stopped and still wearing the dark glare and cold features he looked intently at Yoongi. "Is that a problem?" He asked in a dark voice that if you could see, would have probably made Yoongi shiver, just as you did. Yoongi scoffed again without answering and turned around to face you while he hugged the girl again, he wore an annoyed look on his face that made you shake your head. As Jungkook took the last two steps to stand next to you and walk into the party, you turned around ignoring Yoongi, bust as you took the first step into the crowd you heard Yoongi whisper. "Good luck with that fucking control freak." And laughed. The girl next to him now completely bothered by the boy's attitude. Jungkook stopped in his track, his jaw clenched and his body tensed, you looked back and saw the boy take a deep breathe and close his eyes. You saw as Jungkook turned around and walked in Yoongi's direction, for a moment you were alarmed, what was Jungkook going to do? He didn't seem like the type to fight, but the boy simply stood tall, inches away from your ex-boyfriend and the height difference and body structure compared to his, was enough to intimidate your ex. "If I hear you talk that way about her again you will meet a side of me that I'm not very fond of showing, then, when you do, my bodyguards who are in every corner of this house will try to pull me away from you with no success while my fist introduces itself repeatedly to your face. Are we clear on that?" He said very calmly and in a low voice. You were shocked. Not just because of the threat, but because you weren't sure if Jungkook was bluffing or actually telling the truth. Yoongi didn't seem to have the same debate, instead, you saw his Adam apple bop up then down again and your ex simply nodded. "Good," Jungkook answered and turned his back once again to the mint-haired boy while he walked up to you. "Come on, let's go." You obeyed. Following the quiet boy in the crowd as he made his way to the kitchen where you were last with Namjoon. You were still a little taken back by what had just happened. No one had ever defended you before and for some reason, Jungkook doing it made you feel fragile but also... Safe. It only added to the strong attraction you had for the boy and as you leaned against the kitchen counter biting on your lower lip nervously, Jungkook was pouring beer into two red solo cups in front of you. His jaw was still tensed, his body rigid. He seemed annoyed and the way the black long sleeved shirt hugged his body made you bite your lower lip harder. Jesus was he a masterpiece. When he looked at you and saw the worried and nervous look on your face his features softened, he walked to you and handed you one of the cups, leaning on the middle counter in front of you. "I'm sorry about that." He said and you looked down, feeling your cheeks burn. "Thank you." You said too flustered to look him in the eyes. "I never had someone defend me before." "You shouldn't need anyone to defend you, I'm sure you're capable of doing that on your own, I just really don't like the way he talks about you." He said and you assumed Yoongi had made similar comments on your behalf in the frat house before. You took a sip of your beer, holding onto the edge of the counter. "He's not wrong, though... I am a control freak." You said looking down. It was way past the days when you felt bad about it, but somehow, it still stung a little. "If you're a control freak, then what am I?" He asked and you looked up, he had a side smile on his face, his eyes still dark. "Every step of my day is planned, everything has to be done on time and has to be in the right place. I despise any kind of disrupting in my schedule." He told you. You smiled, now you understood why you two related so well and it felt good to have someone understand you. "I'm pretty much the same, I actually change my toothbrush every 3 months and if they don't have the brand I use, I go around town to look for it." You laughed and Jungkook chuckled. "But, being spontaneous isn't all that bad either. I have had good things come from it." You admitted. "Like what?" And his question felt heavy. You took another sip from your drink feeling your throat dry. "I-I mean... You." You looked down again biting on your lower lip. Jungkook was quiet. You looked at him, and he was wearing the serious face that he always did, showing no emotion. "I-If it wasn't for you I wouldn't understand class a-and come to this party, and w-we're friends, and we talk, I l-like your company." You tried to explain yourself. "I like your company too." He said and looked down, something lingering in his eyes, something that resembled sadness. "Are your bodyguards on duty all day?" You tried to change the subject downing your drink and putting it down on the counter. Jungkook looked up a softer look on his face. "Oh, they're usually off duty, I lied." And he smiled making you laugh. "But, I can call them, it's no trouble, barely an inconvenience." And that made you laugh harder. Seeing this funny side to Jungkook made you want to smile and never stop. "I can't see why you'd need bodyguards, with that body I'd say you could take care of yourself." It took you a second to realize what you had said and Jungkook's raised a brow, a different look in his eyes. You were clearly already tipsy and weren't thinking straight with this lean, strong, freaking hot boy with this tight shirt and sharp jaw in front of you. "That body, huh?" He asked and you looked to the side, feeling the heat in your face. "And what does that mean?" "W-well..." You stuttered. "I mean, you're, you know... Strong and... Fit." You tried to keep a straight face while saying that. Jungkook only seemed to enjoy the way you were struggling with your words. "Fit?" He asked. "Y-yeah, muscular a-and I'm sure you have a six-pack." You blurted out, your eyes bulging slightly. "I mean! N-not that it has an influence on being able to defend yourself, although it might because when you have a strong core you have better balance a-and, just like in ballet it makes your movements stronger..." You looked at the floor putting a hand against your forehead clearly feeling stupid for babbling and making a fool out of yourself. "Would you like to see it?" He asked and you shot your head up, your face now fully red, you were sure. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. Jungkook laughed, a whole body laugh that made his shoulders bounce. You squinted at him, he was making fun of you, but soon you smiled and laughed with him. "I'm sorry, it's just nice to see you get all flustered, it's quite cute." He took the cup up to his lips, but never took his eyes off you. Was he... Flirting? You licked your dry lips and his eyes followed the movement, the darkness returning to his pupils with something else with it. "Would you like another drink?" He asked in a husky tone that made all the hairs in your body stand. You nodded gently, unable to speak. Jungkook took two steps towards you, stopping mere inches away from your body and you held your breath, the closeness making your heart beat rapidly in your chest. He never tore his gaze away from you as he took your cup and extended his hand behind you, making his body almost touch yours while he grabbed another bottle of beer and poured the liquid into the red cup. There was a weird feeling about it, it was as if you belonged to him and your body reacted to every little thing he did. He put the bottle down next to you then lifted the cup to your face, you bit on your lower lip to hold back a whimper from him being so close. Jungkook's eyes caught on the movement, and time seemed to still, his pupils blew wide. The danger in his eyes was so explicit, almost as if he was familiar with seeing your body react making the air feel thick around you both. Everything came crashing down when you two were interrupted by a loud drunk voice. "Wow! Look at that! Jungkookie and Y/N getting up close and personal!" Hoseok laughed while he and Jimin came into the kitchen. Jungkook's jaw clenched, the air leaving his nose in a hasty manner. He took a step back, leaning against the middle counter once again. You felt cold now, even if his body wasn't touching yours it was like it was emanating warmth and you yearned for him to come back. "Hi, Hobi, hey, Jimin." You said with a shy voice. "Hey, Y/N, how was your date with Taehyung?" Jimin asked while he poured a drink into his cup. You bit your lower lip, eyeing Jungkook, that put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head at Jimin. "I-It was nice, b-but we decided to just be friends." You said more in a rush then you expected, for some reason there was a huge part of that that wanted to reassure Jungkook that you weren't seeing anyone else. "That's why he was so upset, makes sense, I get it, you're freaking hot," Hoseok said is his drunk demeanor. You blushed, the way he spoke so bluntly about it made you shy. "Dude, look at Kookie, he's not liking you prying on his girl like that." Jimin laughed elbowing Hoseok. You waited for Jungkook to correct them, for him to protest, but he was silent, a serious and very not friendly look on his face. Jimin and Hoseok also went silent when they noticed Jungkook didn't seem to find it funny at all. They both shrugged and said goodbye before going back into the party. You both stayed silent for a while, you were looking at the floor too embarrassed to look up at him. "You wanna get out of here?" Jungkook's voice made you look up. You blinked a couple of times, opening your mouth to say that his room was here, but, looking at his face and how uncomfortable he was only made you shut it. "Yeah, I do." You answered, and he grabbed a bottle of vodka and took you by the hand, guiding you out the door. His hand was warm and firm, it felt so right as if you had held it a thousand times. The two of you walked down the sidewalk for a couple of minutes in silence, it was nice. Jungkook would take a sip from the bottle and pass it on to you. It was a few minutes later that you felt a shiver roll down your body because of the wind, or maybe the vodka. He noticed. "Are you cold?" His voice sent another shiver down you. You nodded. Jungkook stopped walking, looking around, it was when he noticed a Walmart store right at the end of the block that he looked at you. "Come on." He said and you followed. You both got in and it took you a while to understand what he was doing until he stopped in front of a coat rack, asserting through the many jackets and hoodies. "Jungkook... What... You don't need to..." You started to protest. "What?" He asked without even looking at you. "What size are you?" He was a little drunk and fuck, did that only make him look even more gorgeous. His hair a little messy, his cheeks slightly flushed and his lips a little swollen, he was a god. "Jungkook, I have money... A lot actually." You stated in your own drunk haze. He didn't even react, didn't seem to care at all. "I want to buy it for you." He said and took out a black plain hoodie putting it against your body and observing. It was big enough that it stopped mid tight and you were wearing a dress, so it looked as if you were wearing nothing underneath. He wanted to buy it for you and the way he had said it made you blush and accept without a word. "Perfect." He said and smiled, a lazy drunken one that had your heart fluttering. "What about you? Aren't you cold?" You asked and he shook his head. "Oh, come on, at least buy one to match with me." You said taking another black one off the rack. "Please?" The way he looked at you made you swallow hard. "Ok." He said simply, and he took the hoodie, turning his back and walking towards the register. As you both waited in line you looked at the oversized hoodie, a pout forming on your lips with how plain it was, he looked back quirking an eyebrow. "What is it?" "It's so plain." You said and he chuckled. Jungkook looked around an saw a kids painting kit, four different colors, a crayon set and a coloring pad. He took it and put it on the runner in front of the cashier. "We can personalize it." He said and you couldn't help but smile. He paid with a black card, and you wondered exactly how much money he had. As you both made your way out of the store, two black plain oversized hoodies and a coloring kit you wondered if it was safe for him to walk alone being someone with so much money. "Hey..." You started. "Is it safe for you to walk on your own?" You didn't want to intrude, but it was a question that you just needed to ask. He hummed, already understanding your concerns. Looking up at you there was a devious smirk on his lips, one that had you wanting to squirm. And he nodded towards the road, a little behind you both. Your eyes followed and you noticed the black car with dark windows driving slowly a little far back. Your mouth opened in awe. "Technically, there isn't any true danger." He started saying as he walked slowly towards you, the vodka bottle in his hand swaying beside his body. "But, they don't care, they follow me around." He shrugged. You nodded, pursing your lips. Silence installed again, and you felt a need to change that, as you both walked you saw a park a little ahead, smiling and walking a little faster towards it. You didn't look back as you made your way towards a children's swing, sitting down and now watching Jungkook walk lazily towards you. "Push me, Kookie." You teased, and he clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he put the bag down onto a pick nick table along with the bottle. Jungkook slowly made his way behind you, everything he did was always so tense and you wondered if it was because you were into him. Two hands touched your lower back, you closed your eyes, goosebumps covering your skin. His hands lingered there for a while before he slowly pushed you, your body swaying forward on the seat. "So..." He started. "You went on a date with Taehyung." There was a loud thump in your chest, why was he asking? Was he jealous? "Y-yeah, last Friday." Your voice was low. "But it wasn't for me." You finished. "Why did you go then?" He asked, a seriousness to it. You shrugged. "I wanted to explore my options I guess, but I had my head wrapped around someone else." You admitted. Jungkook hummed, you imagined he was nodding. "Did you kiss him?" And you put both feet on the ground, stopping the swing as you turned your head back to look at him. "No." You answered. Jungkook eyes never left yours, there was so much weight in them and you just couldn't understand why, it was as if he was possessive, but at the same time sad. Angsty. "I don't want to kiss him either." You reassured. He looked away for the first time, biting on his lower lip nervously. Your body shivered again and you coiled. His head whipped towards you and he took in your form. "Come sit, you're shaking." He said, his voice a lot lower now. You got up from the swing, sitting across from him in the pick nick table. He took out the hoodies and you put it on, the fabric soft and warm against your skin, Jungkook did the same, only, it fit him perfectly. You took the bottle and took a long take from it, the vodka burning down your throat as you cringed. "Have you ever dated?" You asked him, and he took the bottle, drinking with you. "Ah..." He chucked. "Yes, I have, once." He had this gentle smile on his face, one that made you want to kiss him. "We met in high school, lasted right up until I entered college. " He stated. "So, one year?" You joked, and he laughed, a little more than he would if he were sober. "Yep, the whole one year of High School." The conversation flowed between you two as you both got drunk in the park. You found yourself sitting on the grass, leaning against the pick nick table seat. "Then when she found out I was a virgin she made me promise I'd only have sex after marriage." You were telling him about a story with your mother. "Wow, your mom seems very... Conservative." He was now comfortable and relaxed beside you, the bottle now halfway through. "Well, my father left when I was very young, so instead of losing her mind and falling into a hole of depression, she kind of made these rules. Everything had to be perfect, everything was planned out, even my sleepovers at friends hose in middle school." You told him. "It wasn't all that bad, though, it thought me to be organized and safe." "There is nothing wrong with safe." He said. You smiled and nodded, looking down to the hoodie that kept you warm. "Jungkook, we didn't customize our hoodies." You said with a very disappointed voice. He didn't answer, instead, he pulled the bag from the table and let it fall onto his lap. "Here you go, child, have fun." He said giving the kit to you and laughing. You gave him your tongue, opening the package and going for the paint while Jungkook grabbed the pad and a black crayon. "What if I did yours and you did mine?" You asked looking at his hoodie. "Show me yours, I'll show you mine?" He quirked an eyebrow. You blushed, tapping him on the shoulder, and he opened his arms leaning his head back on the wood. "Go ahead." He said simply. You were drunk, you wouldn't deny that, but you were also very much aware. In a brave move, you shifted, straddling his legs and sitting on them. Jungkook's eyes shot open, looking at your choice of seat and his eyes grew darker. You opened the red pain, biting on your lower lip and trying to ignore his very intense stair. As you drew a very cricked heart with your fingers, you went pack and dipped it in the pain, then back to the fabric. "How come this set doesn't come with a brush?" It was more of a rhetorical question. "Because they want you to make a mess." He said, the velvet and sensual tone to his words. And you looked up at him, the familiarity to his voice making you furrow your brows, you brushed it off resuming your very bad painting skills on the boy's hoodie. As your fingers pressed into the fabric, you felt his toned chest underneath it. Hard and firm. Your mouth went dry, you really wanted to put your hands under his clothes. When you were finished you had a paint dirty hand and a drawing on his shirt. It was a red heart with a blue cookie painted inside of it. There was no other color than red, green blue and yellow. "I'm done!" You stated with happiness. He looked down, a soft smile on his lips. "This is a masterpiece." "Oh, shut up..." You giggled. "Your turn." You moved to get out of his lap, but his hands met your waist, keeping you firmly in place. You let out a small gasp, his hands grabbing tighter on your waist and pulling you closer to him. "There, that's better to reach." He said. You were hot, your whole body, you were almost completely seated on his lap, and you could feel his tones thighs underneath you, it took everything in you to not move your hips or whine. As Jungkook slowly maneuvered his hand on top of the fabric and into the sets of paint you held your breath, his movements were slow and careful, his hand never touching your body, just the fabric. He never looked at you until he was finished, eyes flicking up to see the glossy way your hooded eyes watched him. It could either be from your drunken state or the very perceivable arousal. "What do you think?" He asked and you finally looked down. There was a flower, the way he had used the colors had turned it into purple and pink, it was so well painted that it made you open your mouth, it was beautiful. "Jungkook..." You looked at him, there was a shy glint in his eyes. "Is there anything you can't do?" You asked and he chuckled underneath you. "You should paint for my thesis." You suggested and his eyebrows raised. "I could sketch you." He said as he grabbed the black crayon again and the pad. "Oh, no, I don't know how to pose." You said shyly and he shook his head. "Nonsense, you look beautiful just like that, don't move." He said and his hand started moving over the blank page. As he moved his hand you bit your lower lip feeling your cheeks grow hot an red, you were shy, so you looked away. "Hey, I said don't move." He chuckled. "I'm shy, I don't feel like I'm a good model." Your voice was almost a whisper. "You really look cute when you're shy." He gave you a side smile, one that made you even shyer as you tried hiding your face in your palms but made your heart flutter and beat violently in your chest. "Hey, come on, little muse, let me finish, I'm almost done." He said as he pulled your hands away from your face. You allowed him to finish his sketch, your cheeks certainly a dark hue of red. When he finished he looked at it, a tender look in his eyes. "Can I see it?" You asked and he shook his head. "What, why not?" "I want it just for myself." He stated and that made your heart thump in your chest. "But, I'm the model, I'd like to see." You argued. He shook his head again. In a childish, but excused drunk way, you tried taking the pad away from him to see, but his reflexes were sharp even drunk, and he pulled away. You opened your mouth to protest, but he threw the pad over the table and rested both hands on your hips. "There, now you'll have to get up to see it." He laughed a hot, warm and comfortable laugh that you wanted to hear forever. You threatened to get up, but he held you down firmly on his lap, the way his hands gripped on the side of your body, made you gently roll your hips. "Fuck..." He cursed under his breath. It sent a hard wave of arousal through your body. Jungkook looked at where you were seated, only a few inches away from where you would make him feel good and you slowly inched up on top of his center, your need already taking the best of you. Jungkook gulped, you watched as his Adam apple bopped up and down, and he was suddenly looking at you, taking in your lust struck features. "Beautiful..." He whispered is a raspy voice. And you involuntarily rolled your hips again, this time feeling the way he started to harden under you with a low groan. You whined a little louder when you felt him, resting both hands on his shoulders and clutching the fabric under your nails. The sound of your whine only served as fuel to him as he pulled your hips to grind over him again, there was a hard sting of pleasure that shot right into your core, you felt yourself get wetter and wetter under your lace white underwear and Jungkook certainly noticed. "You're making a mess, beautiful." He said in a low voice. It almost made you cum, it was so familiar. "If you keep grinding on my cock like that, you're gonna make me lose it, sweetheart." And you stilled. Every inch of your body felt cold, even under the hoodie. Your heart suddenly beating fast in your chest, a cold wave going up your spine. He didn't seem to notice, no, he was too drunk, his head too clouded with arousal and while you were still seated on top of him he just looked down at where your bodies almost connected. "W-what did you call me?" You asked, and he looked up, his eyes drowning in lust. "Sweetheart." He said and there it was again. The cold going down your body. No, it couldn't be. No, no, it was your head playing tricks on you. You must just miss him, no, this wasn't real. "S-say it again, please?" You asked in a weak voice. He didn't take it as anything other than lust. "Do you like it when I call you sweetheart?" It was him. You closed your mouth looking at Jungkook, looking straight into his eyes, taking in every single detail of his face, of his smile and it all made sense. The way you felt like you knew him, the way he seemed familiar, the way your body reacted to him. His interest in you, his awkwardness in the beginning. 'I have trouble looking people in the eyes and talking to them.' You recalled him say, that was why he needed the blindfold, That was why he didn't let you take it off, yet... Here he was, fooling around with you with no care in the world. You were shocked and in a fast swift mood, you got up but didn't have a tight hold on your body so you fell beside him, accidentally hitting the bottle of Vodka on top of the seat and it tilted over you, wetting your hoodie and making you gasp in cold. Jungkook acted quickly, taking the bottle and stopping it from pouring even more. "Shit, are you ok?" He asked as he got up and extended a hand towards you. You took it, getting up and trying to dry out the very large wet spot that made the paint smudge all over. You were sad, you were hurt... You couldn't think straight. "Take it off, I'll give you mine." You were just moving, you couldn't look at him, you were ashamed and upset, there was also a part of you that was glad and relieved, but you needed to organize your thoughts. When the hoodie made it's way past your head you watched Jungkook tug his hoodie off, his shirt underneath riding up and exposing his very strong V line and the beginning of his abs, ones you've touched before. You shook your head, how could you be thinking such a thing right now? He finished taking it off and looked at you, now noticing how serious you were. "Here." He said, extending his hoodie to you. You took it without looking at him and put it on, the strong scent of his cologne invading your nostrils and it smelled exactly like him. The Stranger, you closed your eyes, taking in the smell, tight pain in your chest. 'Intimacy.' His voice came into your head, he didn't want to fuck you because of intimacy. He didn't see intimacy with you, not as the stranger and not as Jungkook and the reality just started hitting you hard. "Is everything ok?" He asked and you finally looked into his eyes. His eyes. These eyes. The eyes you wished you could see before but he didn't allow you to. Why did he approach you out of all people? Why did he offer to tutor you even after the sessions? Why did he ask you to go with him to the party, even if you canceled on him afterward? "I think I want to go home." You said and there was something different in his eyes, he looked insecure, self-conscious. "Ok." He said, grabbing the ruined hoodie and putting one hand in his pocket. "I'll take you." You said nothing, instead watched as he grabbed his phone and texted someone. Soon the black car that followed you both pulled up in front of the small park. You followed Jungkook as he opened the door for you and allowed you to slide in, coming in right after. He didn't say anything to the driver, it wasn't the same one that usually took you to your meetings, nor was it the same car, but it was all settling in. You both were silent in the car, the strong scent from his cologne and the alcohol swimming in the small confined space of the car. As the driver slowly approached your apartment complex, Jungkook finally spoke. "I'm sorry if I did something to make you uncomfortable, I know it's no excuse, but, I'm drunk." He said, and somehow that only made things worse. You nodded. "I'm just tired, don't worry." You lied. And you knew he caught on, even if he said nothing to argue. As the car stopped you lingered in the back for a while, you feared that if you left, this was the last you'd see of him, and now knowing what you knew, all your feelings came crashing down on you. You were madly in love with him, with the quiet, sweet but serious boy and with the demanding, stern stranger. The fact that they were both the same person make matters worse. "Goodnight, Jungkook." You said before opening the door and hopping off, making your way in long strides to your empty apartment. As you got in, you pealed the hoodie off, the air in your lungs coming out all at once as you felt your heart beat angry in your chest. Why? Was all you could ask yourself. Why didn't he tell you? How could he? But at the same time, you knew why. He had social anxiety. Everything had a very good and plausible explanation. You threw the hoodie on the floor of your bedroom and sat on your bed, in the dark. Trying to calm yourself down. It took you a good ten minutes before the urge of crying left you, now organizing your thoughts. Jungkook was The Stranger. Ok, that was settled, and even if it was something as simple as a pet name, it was all the other pieces that started to fit that made it make sense. How had he chosen you? You had two theories, one. He either saw you at the frat house and felt interested in you or two, he saw you on campus and felt interested. That still didn't explain why you specifically, why not Malia or any other girl that could have made their way into the frat or campus had been chosen. Why had he decided to tutor you if there was a chance you'd recognize him? Or ask you to the party? Those where the questions that you didn't have answered to. But the question that you wanted to be answered the most was... Did he want you just for fun? Or did he want you for you? You shook your head, sighing out loud as you felt it start to throb, your body stilled for the second time when you heard your phone vibrating on the floor. You let your body fall to the floor, crawling towards the sound, and when you took it in your hands and looked at the caller, your heart started beating violently in your chest.

'Unknown caller' You knew it was him. Just like you always knew. You got up, without answering the call and walked towards your window, being careful not to move the blinds, and when you peaked, there he was, standing against the car, phone to his ear. He was still in the dark, but this time, you could make out his features perfectly. "Fuck..." You cursed desperately. You were tempted to answer, you were so torn. But this time, you muted your phone and watched it ring until it stopped, him taking the phone away from his ear and looking up to the window. He shook his head and put the phone inside his pocket before getting in the same car that got you here and driving away. You woke up feeling like you could die. Not only were you hungover, but you were emotionally shaken. You checked your phone and your heart hurt in your chest when you saw the number of texts you had. Unknown Number. I called you last night. Unknown Number. Should we settle a date for you to meet up with my representative? Unknown Number. I really wish you'd call me back, or answer my texts. Jungkook. Sorry if I did anything last night, I got carried away. Jungkook. I hope you slept well. Jungkook. I'm really sorry, I feel like I did something wrong. Jungkook. Text me back when you can. Please. You whined and buried your face in your pillow. You didn't have the strength to deal with this, not today. You decided on not getting out of bed, you occasionally got up to either go to the bathroom or grab junk food from the kitchen, and Malia was sure not to ask questions when she saw the look on your face as you made your way back to your room. You turned off your phone and stayed in bed, putting your earphones on and binge-watching a TV show on Netflix. Anything to get your mind off things. You did the same things the day after, Malia now making you cupped ramen to at least feed you something other than cookies and crackers. She still avoided asking questions, but you knew soon that peace would go away. It wasn't until Thursday came and you woke up so late for the fourth time and you decided to skip class again that Malia decided to do the last thing you wanted her to do. She knocked on your door and you just grunted. "Hey..." She said while she opened the door slowly. "There is someone at the door for you." She said and you sighed, getting up and wondering who it was, as you slipped on your flip-flops and put on a cardigan, you walked to the door and opened it, only to feel your heart up in your throat. "Jungkook." You said his name in a weak whisper. He was standing in a gray hoodie and dark jeans, his hair messy and his face slightly flushed. "Hey..." He said in a nervous voice. So different from the Stranger behind the blindfold. His hand was in his pocket and in the other he held a bag. He looked down, it was as if he was struggling to say something. "Look..." He started and you bit your lower lip, holding your body. "I don't know what I did that might have fucked this up..." He started and you felt a lump in your throat. "But, I just wanted to apologize. And if you don't want to speak to me again, I understand. I don't know what's bothering you... I wish I did, so I can help, but since I don't, all I can say is... You need to get up. You need to come back to class, nothing is worth putting away all your hard work and dedication you have this far." Your heart swelled. The tenderness and care in his words made you want to close the small space between you two and hug him, tight. Tell him how you felt, tell him he didn't need to hide from you. But just like him, you were insecure. So you nodded, he shook his head, clearly accepting defeat, and he handed you the bag. "Here, I thought you should keep this." He said and you took it. His hand made it's way back into his pockets like he always did. "Thanks," You said as you looked down. It wasn't that you didn't want to talk to him, you just weren't ready to accept that he didn't want you as anything other than a contract. A session. Maybe a fun thing now and then. He nodded your way and turned his back walking down the hall looking utterly disappointed. You closed the door and rested your forehead on the cold wood, sighing. You decided to look at what was in the bag and as you pulled out the black thick fabric you saw the flower. He had painted it again, this time in so much detail. It was stunning and you couldn't help but feel special. As you pulled it open you looked at it for way too long, tears started streaming down your eyes slowly. "Y/N?" You heard Malia call, but didn't look back, instead, you held the hoodie close to your chest and allowed yourself to sob for the first time since Friday. Malia silently wrapped her arms around you, you both slowly slid down to the floor, and you don't know how long you both were there, you in the arms of your best friends as she silently comforted you. When you calmed down, she pulled away wiping the wetness from your face and brushing the hair away. "Listen, I was quiet for a while because I saw that you needed space, but, I really need to know what's happening, so I can help." She started and you felt like you could cry all over again. "I can't stand to see you like this." You took in a deep breath and decided to tell her everything. While you told her, she helped you walk to the couch, and she listened without interrupting, when you told her everything, you rubbed your face tiredly. "So, it was Jungkook the whole time... But isn't that a good thing? You're clearly into him." She said. "That's the problem, the last time we had our... Thing... He said that sex required intimacy and it's not even about the sex, it's about him not seeing me as someone he could have intimacy with, just... You know, a name on a contract." "Oh, please Y/N you can't be that dense." She said and you furrowed your eyebrows at the offense. She noticed your confusion. "It's so fucking clear that he likes you, and not in just a Christian Grey gets a kinky girl to slap kind of way." She started. "He's asked you to spend more time with him with the tutoring, that was so obvious, and the way he looks at you? Like he could crumble at any second, or like you hold all his power." She continued. "Also, Namjoon told me that he asked about you several times, he saw him sneak into Yoongi's room and steal that body wash you left at the dorm." You put a hand over your mouth. The body wash. Of course, it wasn't a coincidence at all. "And this?" She said while she took the hoodie into her hands and looked at it. "This isn't something that someone who has no intention of getting real with you does, no guy, not even quiet app boy Jungkook." You closed your eyes, you really wanted to believe everything Malia was telling you, but you couldn't be sure without actually hearing it from him. "I need him to tell me, Malia, yes, with all my control freak ways and methodical head, I need him to tell me, I can't live with a 'maybe', I need to be sure." You told her and she nodded. "When did you say you two were meeting to sign the papers?" She asked. "I didn't, I still have to schedule it." You said with a sad voice. "Text him, say you want another session, one last time before you sign off, confront him, and if he doesn't give you what you want, you bail." She said. It wasn't the best of ideas, but it was something, It was a way to corner him and make him give you the truth, one way or the other. You got up and grabbed your phone, turning it on and hearing the notification bell go off as your phone was spammed with texts and missed calls. Malia did a face. "He's whipped." She said. You didn't even read the texts, instead, you clicked on 'Unknown Number' and started typing. "Can we meet one last time before it's over?" The reply came faster than you expected. "Yes, tomorrow. Same room, same time, looking forward to seeing you." And you now had a meeting with The Stranger. No... Now you had a meeting with Jungkook.

[tendertenebrosity]

TJ and Danny, Part 4

The conclusion of my series set in @wildfaewhump‘s Path Verse! Thanks Vic, I hope you liked this fanfiction! Previous parts 1 2, and 3

Danny walked through the halls of the Agency, jacket slung casually over his shoulder. He raised a hand in greeting to people as he passed them, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile for the scant handful of them that he actually liked.

He’d been at his desk for the last couple of days, doing paperwork. As much as it bored the hell out of him, he had been glad of it, because if he was at his desk it meant that his Path was being allowed some downtime for the first time in weeks. Back to business as usual today, though.

They hadn’t listened. Danny’s hand curled into a fist at his side, and his mouth tightened in the anger that was starting to colour most of his interactions in this building. Why did none of his superiors ever listen to a thing anybody else said? Did they think Danny had gotten his degree out of a cereal box? Did they think their staff just liked to hear themselves talk?

Danny had warned them, and they hadn’t listened.

 The previous week

“She… she went up the stairs to get the, the gun,” TJ said, standing with his fingers resting on the arm of the accused.

The courtroom was hushed, hardly a murmur as the assembled people listened intently to TJ’s quiet, detached voice. The accused was holding herself rigidly, jaw clenched, eyes closed, the muscles of her arm tense under TJ’s fingers.

“She thought, she was thinking about, she was afraid. He keeps the gun in the spare room. Her hands were, were shaking, she couldn’t get the doorknob to turn, he was yelling… downstairs… she…”

TJ shivered, twitched, hunched over forward, and his narration faltered.

Danny stepped closer. “Still there, kid?” he asked under his breath. His Path was pale, had been all morning, and twitching at every sound. When it had been time for the reading, though, he’d held his hand out for Danny to guide it to the subject. Unhesitating, trusting.

“…Kid?”

The thin shoulders rose and fell. “Yes,” TJ choked. Danny could see his head turning, fitfully, jerkily moving around like he could see things happening in the corners of the room even though Danny knew full well he couldn’t see anything. Not good. This reading was too much.

TJ lurched upright, started speaking again in fits and starts.  “He – he hit her, he hit her, in the room w-with the kettle and the l-little blue and white plates, he said – I’ll kill you – plates breaking, have to call John – he said – ”

That was familiar. They’d already had that fight related to them. He’d jumped back a few weeks.

“No, TJ, you said that bit,” Danny said, frowning. Despite his misgivings, he pressed onwards. This needed to be quick - get in, get the information and get out. The less time in other people’s heads, the better. “You went back. She was going upstairs to get the gun, remember? What happened after that?”

TJ turned his head towards Danny’s voice. Danny saw, with a twinge of alarm, the blood that was starting to ooze down TJ’s lip from his nostril. He suddenly reconsidered. Maybe he ought to call an end to this reading, to hell with his instructions. Deal with the bureaucratic whining later.

TJ blotted the blood against the back of his left hand, smearing it away.

“O-oh. Yes. Yes, the gun. Upstairs. Tripping, falling over the stuff in the spare room cupboards. She picked it up – ammunition, she doesn’t – she doesn’t know – ow… oh, no…. h-h-h-h….”

TJ stood stock still, shaking violently, his breath coming in gasps and heaves.

No. Enough was enough. Danny realised, sickly, that he’d let this go too far. He stepped forward and reached out to knock TJ’s spasming hand away from the accused, and time was moving slowly as treacle, but he was much too late anyway.

The Path fell like a puppet that had had its strings cut. No attempt to soften the fall or go in any particular direction. A heap of long thin limbs in Agency scrubs, lying on the courtroom floor twitching and shuddering violently.

Danny swore, a bolt of fear and guilt going through his chest. He dropped to his knees beside the Path, hands going to the thin shoulders, rolling him over and pulling him up. “Kid?”

Danny could hear surprised gasps and murmurs, and the accused was backing away, but Danny had no time for them. TJ was seizing, shoulders jerking against Danny’s grip. Blood was smeared across his face, hands tremoring - and then the Path suddenly went limp in Danny’s arms. The face that had been twisted in distress under the blindfold went lax, and the head fell back against Danny’s shoulder.

Cursing himself for a callous bastard, Danny checked the pale, exposed throat with gloved fingers. Pulse rapid and weak, the skin hot. He didn’t respond at all to the touch.  

Danny spared a glance around at the courtroom. Shocked, confused faces.

“He’s overloaded,” Danny found himself explaining in a flat voice. “He needs to go back to the Agency right away. If you’ll excuse me.”

He managed to gather TJ up, one arm under his knees, the other around his shoulders, head lolling against Danny’s chest.

He spared a moment to make sure that none of the Path’s exposed skin was going to touch Danny’s before pushing himself to his feet, cradling the Path awkwardly in his arms, and heading for the door.

 Of course, then they’d had to postphone the hearing, and all the rest that TJ and Danny had been scheduled to work that afternoon, and the woman had made a serious complaint about being forced to go through the trauma of a second reading. That, Danny thought sourly, is probably the only reason they fucking did anything.

Danny had reached his destination, turning corner after corner in the hallways of little grey-painted cubbies that housed the Paths.

He’d told them the Path would break under the strain eventually. They were only flesh and blood. Maybe the higher-ups who didn’t have to actually handle any Paths anymore forgot that.

Deep down, Danny knew he might rail at his superiors, but he was just as angry at himself. Hadn’t he been trained to recognise overload? Why had he ignored his instincts? Just because some suit had told him he fucking should? Since when did Danny abdicate his responsibility like that?

Danny unlocked the cubby with his keys. Regardless of Danny’s frustration, TJ should be much improved today, after his treatment.

When the door swung open, TJ was standing in the middle of the little padded space, waiting for him.

Danny stood in the doorway and looked the Path up and down. His colour was better, no more trembling, not clutching at his opposite elbow with one hand like a broken thing. His head was held upright, blindfold secure over his eyes. His scrubs were neat and clean, and his thin hands were clasped nervously in front of him.

“Morning. How are you feeling?” Danny asked.

The Path’s chest moved, up and down, a rapid breath. “M-morning?” he said timidly. “Okay. I mean, I’m… I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Feeling up to some work today?”

“Oh, yes.”

Danny watched the Path, uneasily. He certainly looks better. But.

Something about the way he had responded was… off.

He didn’t smile. Normally, when he first heard Danny’s voice in the morning, the tiniest tremulous smile would touch the Path’s lips under the blindfold, and he would turn his blind head towards where Danny was. Today… nothing. Polite readiness, but no smile.

“Hey, Path,” Danny said slowly, suspicion creeping over him. “Do you… know who I am?”

The Path licked his lips nervously before he spoke. “My… my new handler?”

Danny pushed back the outrage that swelled in his chest for a moment. Idiot. Idiot. You knew he was going to the Class A, what did you expect? Didn’t you fucking warn them he wasn’t going to be functional much longer? 

Are they going to do this every fucking time? Wipe the last few months clean and start over? They think that means you can drive them as hard as you want?  It - it offended Danny’s sense of good practice, that was it.

TJ was fidgeting in the middle of the cubby. He cocked his head nervously. “Is that – not right?”

“Nah,” he said gruffly. “That’s me. I’m your handler.” He stepped into the room to take TJ by the arm, noting the way TJ ducked his head and tensed with an odd ache.

Danny was being a sentimental idiot. It didn’t matter if the Path remembered him, as long as it did what it was told. Soft-hearted goddamn moron that you are, you ought to be happy. Isn’t this for the best? Like he fucking wants to remember the last three months?

“Buckle up, sunshine, let’s go,” he said. “There’s work to do.”

[cakesunflower]

Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 11

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Chapter 11

NEVER HAD THERE been such thick, palpable tension as there was right now in Calum’s living room. A pin drop could be heard in the heavy silence of the apartment, so could to pounding of hearts as Aspen and Calum stared at the woman who entered the living room, her dark eyes taking in the sight of the girl she’d thought she’d ran off years ago, as well as the little girl standing by Aspen’s feet.

Joy took in a sharp breath, the incredulous, near outrage, clear in her eyes. “What in the he—”

“Luna,” Aspen interrupted, looking down at her daughter who’d been eyeing Joy curiously before looking up at Aspen. “Why don’t you go play in your room for a little, okay?”

Aspen was glad and lucky that her daughter was so obedient, with Luna merely nodding in agreement before running down the hall to where her room was, Duke following after her. Maybe the dog picked up on the tension in the room and wanted to be as far from it as possible. Aspen didn’t blame him. And when her eyes met Joy’s dark brown ones, she felt her chest tighten.

But not in fear or intimidation; this time, all she could feel was indignation and the willingness to not back down a second time. She wasn’t the same, vulnerable twenty-one year old who let Joy Hood get in her head and get her to run away. She was a mother now, with a daughter to look after who looked up to her, and one of the many things Aspen planned on teaching Luna was to never take shit from anyone. And for the past number of years, Aspen had been living in consequence of a decision she cowardly made, giving into her fears and insecurities and stupidity that were also fueled by the woman she didn’t want to see again.

Joy looked at her son, lips pursed and jaw tight as a look of disbelief took over her face. “You’re spending your days with her now?”

Neither Aspen nor Calum liked how Joy was talking as though Aspen wasn’t even in the room. Calum clenched his jaw. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.” He’d never talked to his mother that way, never shown her an ounce of disrespect, but how could he possibly respect her after what she did? How could he look at her the same way again?

Joy’s gaze sharpened. “You’re my son—of course it’s my business.” She took a step forward, the frown never leaving her face as she looked at Aspen. The way she looked at her up and down, as if she was sizing her up, had Aspen clenching her jaw. “It is definitely my business when my only son is getting mixed up once again with the woman who’s already caused his life so much trouble.”

Aspen couldn’t help it when she said through gritted teeth, “Don’t confuse me with yourself, Mrs. Hood.”

The older woman’s gaze shifted back to her, eyebrows raising as if she couldn’t believe Aspen was speaking to her, the notion only confirmed when she scoffed out an, “Excuse me?”

Both her and Calum’s eyes were on Aspen, but she made it a point to only look at Joy. She couldn’t look at Calum, not when she was feeling such a raging fire boil in her blood, looking at the woman who put her in the most difficult positions of her life. Aspen couldn’t hide behind the excuse that she was intimidated and vulnerable and dumb at the time everything was going down; she knew she should’ve been stronger, should’ve stayed. But she would forever be pissed and hurt at the fact that, as a mother, Joy practically encouraged, basically forced, her to go.

Now, as a mother, Aspen could not understand how Joy could’ve done that.

Aspen lifted her chin, taking a breath and not letting her nerves get the better of her. It was a good thing she was more angry than anxious. Joy Hood didn’t make her nerves skyrocket, not anymore—she was just worried about the repercussions her words may have on her mending relationship with Calum. “I know I hurt Calum with what I did, I’ve apologized for it. But it doesn’t even look like you’re sorry for keeping your son’s child out of his life.”

Joy bristled, affronted at Aspen’s words, lips parting and eyebrows drawing together in a displeased frown. “How dare—”

“Is she wrong, Mum?” Calum cut in, standing a bit to Aspen’s left, his back to her as he faced his mother. Aspen noticed the rigidness in his shoulders, the tension weighing heavily on him. He gave a single shake of his head. “Are you even sorry for what you did?”

“Calum,” Joy started, a disheartened expression taking over her face as she looked at her son. Honestly, Aspen fucking hated that this whole thing was happening, that there was a rift between Calum and his mother. She knew how close they were, how much he loved and respected and looked up to her. She knew she shattered all of that when she told him the truth. But, then again, Joy already cracked it when all of this began in the first place. Still, this wasn’t easy to see, no matter Aspen’s own grievance with Joy. “I-I only ever wanted you to live your best life and reach your fullest potential.”

Calum’s hands tightened into fists, the veins in his arms protruding angrily. “And having a kid would’ve screwed all of that up, wouldn’t it?” he rhetorically questioned, and Aspen nearly flinched at the malice in his voice. He raised his hand, a single ring clad finger pointed at Joy, ever so slightly trembling with the rage that had taken over his body. “No right,” he ground out through gritted teeth, voice low and rough. “You had no right to do what you did. Absolutely no fuckin’ business forcing Aspen out. She should’ve come and talk to me, yeah, but you took advantage of her vulnerability. So how the fuck am I supposed to forgive you for that, Mum?”

The way he spoke—his words were quiet yet full of anger that made his voice tremble slightly, some of the words coming out as whispers. It only added on to the tension in the room, thick and suffocating as Aspen stood with her lips pressed together, slightly widened eyes on Calum. Things between the two of them were on the mend, yes, but Aspen would be lying if she said she wasn’t somewhat nervous for when Joy showed up and feared that Calum would take his mother’s side. But seeing him defend her, listening to him tell off his mother, had taken her by surprise, and her heart hurt.

Because all of that anger Aspen could hear the hurt carried in Calum’s voice, the betrayal of his mother purposely keeping his own daughter away from him. Aspen’s heart hurt for him, wanted to hug and tell him now that Luna was in his life, she was never leaving. Aspen would never do that to him, to Luna, to herself ever again. She could feel her heartbeat racing in her chest, tight and quick that it almost physically hurt as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. Her own anger towards Joy was still present, but this was Calum’s moment. He needed to talk to her. Needed to get what he felt out. And Aspen would support him.

“Calum,” Joy breathed, taking a step forward, fingers nervously playing together. Gone was her previous confidence and bravado, face crumpling with every word Calum uttered as realization set in that she had majorly fucked things up, that she betrayed her only son’s trust and lost his respect. “I truly never meant to hurt you, honey. Ever. I only ever wanted you to be happy.”

Aspen swallowed as Calum let out a bitter, humorless chuckle, looking away from her as Aspen noticed the tightness in his jaw. “By getting rid of my girlfriend and unborn child.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Aspen looked down at the floor, eyebrows drawing together at Calum’s words. Memories from those days always seemed fresh in her mind, always reminded her that she had been a coward to run away, to give into her insecurities and fears when she should’ve just talked to Calum. They’d still be together. He wouldn’t have missed out on four years of Luna’s life. They’d be a family.

Aspen hated that she could feel her eyes stinging.

“I’m sorry.” Joy’s words pulled Aspen out of her thoughts, making her look up as she saw the woman desperately looking at both of them. Aspen tightened her jaw. “What I did is unforgivable and extreme; I’m so sorry for the pain I caused you—both of you. Nobody ever deserves to have that be done to them, and I’m ashamed and-and disgusted that I did that to my own son.” Aspen saw the true, honest regret on the older woman’s face, saw the way her brown eyes turned glassy with unshed, apologetic tears, and felt something in her soften. Just a bit. Not enough. “It wasn’t my place to get involved, and I certainly had no right to do what I did. I’m so sorry for the pain I caused you.” Her eyes shifted to Calum. “I only ever wanted you to be happy.”

Her apology was followed by silence, and Aspen found herself looking at the ground again, lips pursed. She wasn’t ready to forgive her, not yet. Maybe her and Joy needed to have a chat of their own, but Aspen wasn’t mentally prepared for that. Her head was already starting to hurt; she didn’t want to deal with this right now.

Calum’s spoke up again, raspy and tired. “We’ll talk more tomorrow or somethin’,” he said, voice half a mumble. It seemed like he didn’t have the energy to deal with this right now, either, despite the anger that had been radiating off his body like a wildfire. “It’s. . . It’s been a long day.”

Aspen held back a dry scoff. You got that right.

“Of course,” Joy whispered with an accepting nod, looking between Calum and Aspen. “Can I. . . Can I meet her?”

Aspen’s head shot up at that, heart pounding at the unexpected question, unable to keep her eyes widening in alarm. Her body tensed, as if she was getting ready to step into a physical fight, willing herself to relax. But she couldn’t—she didn’t want Luna anywhere near Joy, not right now at least. Not when things were still tense and upset, when nothing had truly been resolved. Joy may be Luna’s grandmother, but Aspen didn’t want Luna around her until everything was settled—if it would get settled. Aspen wanted to resolve her issues with Joy before letting her daughter near her.

When Calum looked back at Aspen, recovering from his own mild shock from his mother’s question, he saw the defiance set on Aspen’s face. He knew, in that instant, Aspen wasn’t prepared to have his mother and Luna meet, and he found himself respecting that decision. His chest was still burning from anger and hurt, not having entirely accepted his mother’s apology, and while pushing any sort of resolution back another day probably wasn’t wise, it was still his decision. His decision, because he’d been deprived of making his own very big one years ago.

“Not tonight,” Calum finally answered, looking back at his mum. “Maybe after we’ve figured everything out.”

He saw the disappointment in her face, saw the slight relaxation Aspen’s body took from the corner of his eye. He knew he’d made the right decision.

                                                            *****

Things had been a bit awkward once Joy left, not sticking around because of the tension that sat heavily in Calum’s apartment. There was a tightness in Calum’s chest and Aspen felt stinging discomfort at seeing the woman who had a hand at the shit that went wrong. Neither were sure where to go from there.

Calum eyed Aspen; they were both in the living room, sitting in the silence Joy left behind once she walked out the door with Aspen sitting diagonal of him on the couch. Her gaze was on her linked hands while Calum wondered what was going through her mind. Wondered how she felt; he’d been disgruntled at his mum’s arrival—he couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

Aspen took a sharp breath, coming back to life and drawing Calum’s attention. “I should go.”

She stood, making her way around the coffee table, and Calum was instantly on his feet, in her way with his hand grasping hers without a thought. “Stay.”

Aspen froze, gaze flickering to his ring clad fingers holding her hand before flickering to meet his, her eyes wide with alarm and incredulity. This was the second time Calum had asked her to stay in a matter of hours. She looked at him, lips parted in surprise, not sure what to stay or how to interpret his one word request. Asking her to stay for lunch was one thing—asking her to spend the night was completely different. What did he mean by that? Did he mean anything by it? “W-What?” was all she was capable of asking.

Calum swallowed adam’s apple bobbing. It was yet another hasty request, one he’d barely thought through before the word had slipped past his lips. But he didn’t want her to leave, needed her to stay. It was asking for a lot, he knew, given the somewhat fragile status of their relationship. They wanted things to get better between them—Calum wasn’t sure if asking her to spend the night would be beneficial or detrimental. “We have lots to talk about, Aspen,” he spoke up after clearing his throat, hoping to sound like he was being casual, reasonable. “I think we should do that tonight. I’ll drop you home tomorrow, yeah? Just. . . Stay.”

He could feel his stomach churning in anticipation of her response, his dark eyes on her green. The sight of her in front of him had Calum’s heart picking up its pace, something that always used to happen whenever Aspen was around—something he noticed beginning to happen once more as of late. He realized he was feeling the exact same things he used to feel for Aspen now—the twisting stomach and racing heart and heated skin—as if they’d never been separated. As if all the shit never occurred. As if the pain the past few years was melting into what he once used to feel for her.

Aspen pressed her lips together, dry throat working. He was right, she knew. They had shit to work through—all in regards to them. The truth coming out had prevented Aspen and Calum to actually discuss what happened between them prior to her spilling everything, how intimate they’d been before everything blew up in their faces. The tension following that didn’t give them time or the appropriate opportunity to talk things through, but it’d be irresponsible to ignore that it ever happened.

Truth be told, Aspen was afraid of this conversation. She didn’t know what to expect. She wanted to know what was on Calum’s mind in regards to everything—did he think it was a mistake? Did he regret it? Was it a one time thing? Aspen herself didn’t know the answers to those questions, wasn’t sure what she should even think in regards to it. She didn’t know what she wanted—didn’t think that when Calum came back into her life that this was something she’d even have to think about.

But it happened; they crossed that line, and they needed to talk things through. Aspen was just afraid to find out where Calum stood on all of that, was afraid once she heard what he wanted, it wouldn’t be the same thing as what she desired. It caused her heart to twist uncomfortably. But they had to figure it out—if anything, for Luna’s sake.

For the next few hours, Aspen chewed relentlessly on her lips and picked at her nails, knowing that as soon as Luna went to bed, her and Calum would be sitting down and having a talk. It made her nervous, honestly, not knowing what to expect from it, and Aspen wondered if Calum felt his nerves eating him up, too.

It wasn’t until around ten-thirty, when Luna had brushed her teeth and got on her pajamas, that Aspen realized the conversation was about to come. But first, both she and Calum were in their daughter’s room, sitting on either side of the bed as Luna settled in under her covers. Then, her big green eyes looked between her parents, hugging the white teddy bear Calum had gotten her, and she smiled. “I like this,” she commented.

Aspen raised her eyebrows, smiling in confusion as she tucked the covers under her chin. “Like what, bub?”

“Having both of you at bedtime together.” Aspen’s heart halted in her chest, pausing in her movements as her gaze flickered to Luna. She could literally feel Calum freeze next to her, both of them looking at the four year old girl who was smiling innocently, sleepily, at them. She had no idea how breathless her words made the two adults. “I like it.”

A quiet, deep breath was taken in by Aspen in hopes of filling her lungs with the air Luna obliviously stole. It pained Aspen, a burn in her chest, at the acknowledgment of Luna being deprived of both of her parents tucking her in at bedtime, at only having her mother for so long until Calum came into the picture, and even then only having one at a time. Luna had been really good about this co-parenting thing, understood that her parents didn’t live together like most of her friends’ parents did, and Aspen was grateful to have a little girl who just accepted life the way it was without many questions. However, it’d be naive of Aspen to never expect anything of the sort from Luna.

Still. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Were they being like any less of the parents that Luna deserved? Were they not doing this right? The mere thought of giving Luna any less than what she deserved pained Aspen to the point of paralyzation.

Calum’s voice was soft when he spoke up. “Time to sleep, bug,” he said, a gentle smile on his face as he pushed back a few of Luna’s curls that tickled her forehead, leaning down to press a kiss there. “Sweet dreams.”

Luna smiled as Calum sat up, smoothing the blanket over her small frame before standing up. The shift of the mattress once his weight lifted brought Aspen back to reality as she smiled at Luna, willing herself to ignore the weight of this moment—of her and Calum putting their daughter to bed together for the first time. It strangely made her emotional, but she kept that at bay as she also leaned down to kiss Luna’s forehead.

“I love you, baby,” Aspen murmured, making sure she was tucked in well before standing up. The nightlight was already on as Aspen switched off the bedside lamp, the room dark save for the warm, soft glow of the nightlight. Duke was already in place near the foot of the bed, a new spot for him to sleep in whenever Luna would come over, Calum was sure, as Aspen moved away from the bed.

Calum was by the doorway, leaning against it with his arms crossed, waiting for Aspen, as Luna’s sleepy voice called out soft, “Night Mama. Night Daddy.”

Oh, man, she was just ripping their hearts out.

Aspen hugged herself as they left Luna’s room, shutting the door as they walked down the hall towards the living room, and she felt Calum’s gaze burning in her back as her bare feet padding through the apartment. Behind her, she heard Calum ask, “D’you want some wine?”

Wine would definitely help with her nerves due to this impending conversation. Still, Aspen couldn’t help but glance over at him as she asked, “Since when do you drink wine?”

He’d never drank wine when they were together; Calum was always a beer or hard liquor kind of guy, so the fact that he even had wine in his apartment was surprising. She saw the small smile quirk at his lips. “Lots has changed,” he told her. There was no hostile malice in his voice—not that Aspen expected it; it was just that, ever since they reunited and mentions of their past came up, it was always spoken with bitter resentment. Not this time, and it somewhat relaxed Aspen. “Honestly, I was going to grab whiskey for myself, if you prefer that.”

Aspen shook her head, chuckling breathily. “Wine’s good.”

“White?”

When she nodded in reply, Calum went to get the drinks and Aspen settled herself on the couch. She felt goosebumps rise on her skin, cold from the conversation to come, as she sat atop her folded legs and pressed her side against the couch, hearing the glasses clink around in the kitchen before Calum remerged, a glass of wine in one hand and his whiskey in the other.

She took the glass from him, smiling gratefully, and as soon as Calum settled next to her Aspen found herself blurting, “This is weird.”

Calum raised an eyebrow, sitting with his back against the armrest as he faced her while she took a sip of the drink. “What is?”

“This,” she answered after lowering the glass. “Us,” she clarified with a nervous chuckle. “Actually sitting down and trying to talk things through like adults. Last time we did that was. . . When we were trying to figure out the whole co-parenting thing. Now things are just. . .”

Calum’s heart pounded against his ribs, the taste of the whiskey bitter in his throat, hesitantly yet expectantly watching Aspen. “What?” he asked, hoping to get some kind of answer from her, hoping to see where she stood with them.

Aspen sighed, her gaze dropping to her glass. “I don’t know.” She gave a shake of her head, taking a long sip as Calum took in the curve of her jaw, swallowing the tightness in his throat. Aspen’s eyebrows drew together a bit, taking in a breath and her shoulders rose as she did so. “What I do know is that. . . Whatever happens, we need to keep Luna’s best interest in mind.” Her green eyed gaze lifted to meet Calum’s brown eyes, forcing to not let the wind get knocked out of her at the sight of him already looking at her. “We can’t mess up anything for her. We’re. . . Things finally seem to be going okay with us and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

“Neither do I,” Calum agreed, his voice quiet in the silence of the living room. He took another long sip of his drink, as if the whiskey would give him the courage to say whatever he wanted to. And it seemed to work, because his gaze dropped to his glass and suddenly he was saying, “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you.”

Aspen nearly choked on her own sip, forcing down the wine before lowering the glass and looking at Calum. Her heart stuttered as their eyes locked, Calum not at all shying his gaze away from her. Oh. Oh, God. She missed him too. Just hearing him say that, it was like a door she kept locked was finally opening, like she’d found the key after so long, and everything she had once felt for the man was slowly flooding through her veins once more. Like his words were all the permission she needed to experience those feelings she’d kept hidden away for so long.

“What happened the other night,” Calum began once more, maintaining eye contact despite the thundering in his chest he was sure Aspen could hear, unaware of her own pounding heart. “I don’t regret it. I don’t. . .” He paused, lips pressed together in an accepting smile, eyes warm and loving and making Aspen melt. “I can’t ever regret anything when it comes to you.”

Fucking shit—were Luna and Calum in some kind of competition to see who could render Aspen breathless the most?

Her lips parted as she inhaled a shuddering breath, eyes widening at his stunning confession. Aspen stared at him, completely dumbstruck, because was he serious? After everything, how could he say that so easily? So sincerely? Aspen was almost done with her glass of wine but she knew the heat she felt in her skin was because of Calum’s words, Calum’s gaze, Calum.

He didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret her. What more could Aspen possibly need to hear from him? Because the second he said that, she understood. She realized: she didn’t regret it either. Just like him, she could never regret anything that came with Calum Hood. At one point, he had been her everything. He had given Aspen her everything in Luna. And slowly, she knew, he would effortlessly crawl back into the space of her heart that had been vacant in his absence all these years.

“What are you thinkin’?”

Calum’s soft prodding words pulled Aspen back into reality, feeling the shift under her as Calum scooted towards her, diminishing the space between them. Aspen licked her lips. “I’m thinking. . .” she started, lifting her gaze to meet Calum’s, feeling her heart flutter at the softness in his gaze, open and warm and gentle. “That I missed you, too.” Calum’s lips lifted at the honesty of her words, cheeks pushing up slightly, feeling a lightness in his chest at the knowledge of her feeling just how he did. Aspen’s throat worked. “And that I’m really fucking scared.”

That was an afterthought, but it was true. Her feelings for Calum was coming back, swiftly and dizzyingly, and if he meant what he said then he was feeling the same way. But what were they going to do? What about his mother? Were they going to get back together? The thought was daunting, but not nearly as much so as the thought of them getting back together and then things somehow getting messed up, and losing each other all over again. They wouldn’t be out of each other’s lives, wouldn’t let that happen because of Luna, but breaking up all over again would feel even more brutal than the first time. And Aspen wasn’t sure her and Calum would be capable of going through that again. Especially not with a daughter to think about.

“I am too,” Calum rasped, leaning over to put his glass on the table before shifting closer to Aspen, right arm going around her shoulder and left hand resting on her knee. Aspen looked at him, hesitant and yearning, their faces so close. “But I don’t—I want more with you, Aspen. Not just co-parenting. Not just seein’ each other when I’ve gotta drop Luna back off at yours. You and Luna. I want both of you. I want all of it.”

Her heart was in her throat, a tight lump making it difficult for her to breathe as she gaped at Calum, his confessional words rendering her speechless. He wanted them to be a family. The idea was wonderful, something Aspen could definitely get behind, and it was kind of unnerving how ready she was to jump at that. But there were still things to discuss—she couldn’t wait for that part to be over; to talk through everything, slowly but surely, especially where their parents were concerned and how to deal with their opinions on their hopeful family—and she was still confused about the status of their relationship. What were they?

“You want me, too?” Aspen questioned, her voice quiet, almost shy, as she peeked a look at the brown eyed man next to her. She just needed a confirmation, a definite answer that he was serious about this—about them. That they would work through everything that’s happened between them, that they would try to be better than what they once were.

His gaze never left hers as he took the glass from her hand and reached over to put it on the table, before both of his hands found Aspen’s. She welcomed the warmth his hands provided, as well as the coldness of his rings, an anticipated ring sounding in her ears as she held her breath. Calum tugged her towards him, his forehead coming to rest on hers, gazes still locked. She was surrounded by the familiar, welcoming smell of him, just as he was with hers. “Of course.”

Of course. Like there was no doubt about it. Like there could never possibly be anyone else. Like it wasn’t even a thought in his mind to have anyone else but her. Like, despite everything that happened, she’s the one he still wanted to be with.

That’s the way he said it, that’s the way he meant it, and that’s exactly the way Aspen interpreted it. And it was just that simple two word answer that had her body sinking with relief before she closed the very little distance between them, lips finding his in a kiss that felt more like coming home than the one they shared that night.

tags: @crownedbyluke @gotta-try-something-new @rishlo @bitchinbabylon @ghstofcalum @dxmncalum @letsfxckindance @unsexilexi @calumthoodsyonce @grreatgooglymoogly @therainydays4 @sadbreakfast-club @lifeakaharry @codycasperky2 @biggestslutforcalum @complete-trash-101 @kinglyhemmings @empathycth @friendly-neighborhood-michelle @cxddlyash @checkeredcalum @lovelettercalum @nostalgia-luke @captain-what-is-going-on @slimthicccal @bloodytbs @miahelizaaabeth @ghostofhood @elsysoza @writing-in-riverdale @tourettesboi @angelbbycal @bbteamlove @xoforeverx @stfujace @thebodaciouscth @helplesshood @runawaywithme-xo @lietomemyvalentine @emma070900 @cosmixcalum @babygirlcashton @calumamongmen @5sos-stan4lyfe @ihatemyself21 @lipstickstainfading @crystalisinfinite @misskarynie @wrappedaroundcal @wcstethenights @michealcliffturd @akacalciumhood @poppedpins @dollbitxhes @5saucewho @hearts-to-the-sky @booklove-2 @walkedhomealone @andreabjoerg @qualitylu @softboycal @early-thoughts @5saucefanfic @dher216 @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @babyloniancal @xlov3quotingx @aybbblondie @rexorangecouny @flowerchild8341 @romanticalumhood @kaxseychill @babyloncalm @calistheloml @calumh-excess @egyptiangoldhood @irwinkitten @soulmatecashton @gettingjillywithit @asht0ns-world @visualm3nte @xhaileyreneex @cal-pal-cuddles @invisiblexcth @cliffordcntrl @calumsmermaid @5secondssofssummer @cals-babylons @mysteriouslycali @hoodcentral @cathartichaoss @inlovehoodx @gigglyirwin @roselukes @thepixiedreambitch @calumhoodless @paqueretteash @antisocialbandmate @sunnysidesblog @escap0-with-me @rosa-aurum @thewhitestbitch-u-know @rosecoloredash @biwriting @calteahood @2k17muke @theagenderwhocriedwolf @caelumhood @kinglycalum @fucking5sos @ohhmuke @ghostofch @isabella-mae13 @5secsofsomewhere @tupeloohoneyy @sublimehood @shower-me-with-roses @hotmessmichael @pauliip @jetblackyoungblood @astroashtonio @valentinelrh @softforcal @glitterprincelu @meetashthere @youngblood2019 

[latestageyouth]

When you walk away (Nothing more to say)

chapter 4 - ThE PLoT tHiCKeNS

trigger warnings: sympathetic Remus and Deceit, misunderstandings, threatening, threats of blackmail, slight unsympathetic Patton (let me know if I missed something)

summary: Just because I don't have the patience to write slow burn doesn't mean I won't try.

The following week was, as expected, awkward between Damon and Logan. Neither talked to each other, hell, Damon even skipped some of his classes to avoid Logan. Not that Logan did the same, but hey, he doesn't really need lunch, right? Okay, so maybe Virgil was getting suspicious, but it wasn't like he will be forever. Soon, Virgil will get used to the three not hanging out together and forget the two ever even talked. Logan was sure of it.

Which is why he was especially alarmed when Patton mentioned it.

"...Pardon?"

"I was saying that you and Damon are, like, making an extra effort avoiding each other, what happened? I mean, it's not like you were buddies before but you are intentionally avoiding him now. What happened? Did he hurt you?"

"N-no, of course not! I would tell you if such a thing happened," Logan reassured the other man.

Patton furrowed his eyebrows, giving Logan a kind but concerned look, "Then what happened?"

And for the first time in forever, Logan didn't know what to say, "Well, you see...Damon..." his eyes darted around the classroom, "...Asked me...out?" okay, maybe it wasn't completely true, but it was close enough.

Patton started at Logan for a while before collapsing into a laughing fit, "Oh Godness, Logan, have you learned a thing or two from me?" he wiped the tears from his eyes as Logan stared at him. After what seemed like an eternity Patton's expression changed from a smile to a black stare, "Holy Moly, you weren't kidding..."

"Why would I joke about something like that?" Logan crossed his arms and looked away.

"And what did you say?" Patton propped his head into his hands, putting his elbows onto the table.

"I said no, what else would I say?" Logan internally cringed at his answer. God, he wished Damon would ask him out, but of course, his chances are already ruined. He ruined them himself. How did he know that? Well, when someone avoids you and doesn't go five feet near you, you kinda get the message.

Patton just nodded, still smiling, "Good."

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, "Why is that good?"

"Well, Damon is a bad person. I mean, he spreads gossip around the school, he breaks the school rules, I even heard that he got arrested once for underage drinking," Logan wonders if Patton can see the hypocrisy of his last sentence, "And surely you wouldn't want to be like that, right? He's just...bad influence."

Logan looked at the clock, "The class is about to start. I suggest you take out your things," Patton did as he was told, pulling out his biology textbook and some colourful pens. Logan looked at the floor, even as the professor came in. It was unlike him to zone out during a lesson, but he couldn't help thinking about what Patton had said. A bad person? From what Logan saw, he is far from one. And really, underage drinking? Four out of ten teenagers had drunk alcohol, it's not as outrageous as Patton makes it.

"Mr. Croft, care to elaborate?"

Logan looked at Ms. Watson, "Pardon me Ms, what was the question again?"

Ms. Watson sighed, "Mr. Croft, out of all the people here I thought you would be the one listening. Nevermind then, Mr. Lee?"

"Antonie Philips is often called "The father of microbiology", Ms."

Ms. Watson nodded, "Very well, at least one student is paying attention," she turned her back on the class and started writing on the board.

Logan put his head into his arms, shutting his eyes. Despite the embarrassment, he kept thinking about the whole "Damon" situation. He hadn't heard any rumours or gossip surrounding him, but of course, people won't talk shit about him in front of his face. Maybe Damon already spread the word and Roman and Patton were not telling him out of pity? He needed to confront Damon about it, ignoring him will only make it worse, and if he hadn't told anything to anybody yet, maybe he can prevent him from doing so.

As soon as the lesson ended he packed his things and went out into the hallway. If he's (un)lucky, he will spot Damon, and (un)lucky he is, as Damon is talking to Remus close by. He tries but fails, to swallow the lump in his throat as he approaches the two. The two don't even notice him at first, so Logan needs to speak up, which is more difficult than it should be. Is this how Virgil feels?

"Ex...cuse me..."

The two look down at the spectacled young man. They both raise an eyebrow at once, which Logan thinks is remarkably eerie. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Damons spoke, "What do you want, specs?"

"Can I speak to you? Alone?" Logan looks at Remus, who in turn looks at Damon. After a while, Damon sighs and tells Remus to wait for him in the classroom. Remus, although involuntarily and with a lot of protests and a suggestive wink, does what he is told.

Damon turns to look at Logan, "Well? I don't have all day for you."

"Don't spread rumours about me."

Damon smirks, but not in the same way he did on the last Thursday, this smirk is bitter and sarcastic, "Straight to the point I see. You always were so formal, Logan, but I am afraid I have not, it goes against your wishes, after all."

A tiny bit of flush spread across Logan's cheeks, "Oh, how thoughtful of you. I didn't know you were so...fair."

"I am not. I just know how gossip works. You see, rumours get twisted very easily, and I don't need the school thinking I got rejected by a nerd and am just twisting the whole story to look good. Remus has the same class as you, did you seriously think he wouldn't tell me?"

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, "I-"

"Now scram, you're ruining my reputation," Damon began walking away. Logan tried to think of something to say that would get his attention. If that would happen to be a threat, well, there's nothing Logan can do with that.

"That's not what you said on Thursday. How do you know that I won't tell people about that, huh?"

It seemed to work, as Damon stopped walking. He slowly turned to look at Logan with a wide-eyed look he could only identify as fury. He walked over to Logan, pushing him against the wall with his hands on his shoulders, their height difference not helping the situation. Logan could technically just kick him or punch him, but for some reason, his body didn't cooperate with him, "I know you, Croft. You're not the type to spread rumours about someone you have a crush on just because you fucked up your chance with them. That sounds more like me, and if you have some of that common sense you love to boast about, you would know not to push my buttons."

Logan may not look fazed, but on inside he couldn't put the person from last Thursday and the person right now together. One of them was a facade, that Logan knew, but which one was beyond him. Damon leaned in closer, now speaking in a much lower and threatening manner.

"If I remember correctly, you didn't want to look like a creep, right? Well, you see Logan, the best rumours have a little bit of truth to them, so let's say that I would take you having a crush on me and twisted it just a little bit. What do you think would happen if you gained a reputation as a stalker, huh? Even if you disproved it, people would still believe it, because it was the first word, and also because I can be very convincing with my words. Capiche?" Damon stepped away from him, his hands leaving Logan's shoulders. When Logan glanced up at him again, he looked like a completely normal person who didn't just threaten him. He even smiled at Logan, a relaxed smile at that, "Well, I look forward to our next chit-chat."

He walked away and left Logan with that. He was a completely different person. Was that his real self? Does he even have a real self? His thoughts were interrupted by Patton who put a hand on his shoulder. On instinct, Logan jerked away.

"Hey Lo, you okay?"

"I, uh," the man in question adjusted his glasses, "Yes, why would I not be? We should get to our next class."

"Mhm," Patton hummed, "I think Roman is already in math, I haven't seen him yet."

Logan chuckled, "I find that hard to believe. He probably overslept and is now running to school."

"Aw, come one, have some faith in him, Lo!" Patton punched Logan's arm.

Logan rubbed his bicep, "If he didn't slack off so much, maybe I would."

Patton didn't say anything in response, just softly smiling at Logan. They walked into the classroom and as expected, Roman was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until the middle of the math class that Roman burst through the door, apologizing and making up excuses to the teacher, who just told him to sit down and gave him detention. The three boys, well, mostly Roman and Patton, passed notes to each other during the class, occasionally snickering. Surprisingly, the teacher didn't catch them this time. Logan couldn't help but stare at the man not that far away from him. Only one row and a desk away. Logan knew that Damon knew he was staring at him, but that didn't stop him. He watched as he ripped out a page from his notebook and wrote something on it, then folding it and passing it to the person behind him, who looked at the note and passed it to Logan. Logan looked at the note.

It had an arrow pointing to the right scribbled on it. He unwrapped it.

'stop staring at me, u creep'

Logan looked around, checking to see if the teacher was looking, and when he confirmed that he was not, he took his pen and wrote back:

'Stop me Yourself.'

He folded it back together and passes it to the person connecting Damon and him. The girl gave him an unimpressed look, tapped Damon's shoulder and handed him the note. Logan watched as Damon read the note. He shot Logan a glare, which Logan returned with a passive-aggressive smirk. Logan didn't think Damon would do anything other than write back, so he was fairly surprised when he raised his hand.

The teacher looked at him, "Yes, Mr. Barnes?"

"Can I go to the BR? "

The teacher was silent for a few seconds, before answering, "Yes, but be quick."

"As always," Damon mumbled as he stood up and walked out of the door. That was ten minutes ago, and Logan wonders if he just made someone leave school to get away from him. So, instead, he focused on the lesson, ignoring the notes being passed between Roman and Patton. When the door finally opened, shortly before the end of the lesson, Logan didn't think he was ever more disappointed in someone.

There Damon stood in the doorway with a cupful of ice cream with a little plastic spoon stuck in it.

"Mr. Barnes, may I ask where you have been? You asked to go to the bathroom ten minutes ago," the chalk in the teacher's hand snapped in half.

Damon just shrugged, "I never said I was going to the bathroom, I said BR. You know, like Baskin-Robbins? Where else did you think I was going?"

"Detention. All week. Now sit down and stay silent."

Damon smirked and sat back down into his seat. Some of the kids in the class snickered, some let out a groan, some just sighed. Logan was one of the latter. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand, closing his eyes.

"Is that mint chocolate chip? Aw man, I'm so jelly!" Patton quietly whined.

Logan spent the rest of the class staring at Damon, not even paying attention to the class. Or Patton. Or Roman. Or anything other, really. When the bell finally rang, Logan's head almost blocked out the sound too. Roman and Patton were gone first, but Logan quickly caught up to them, not forgetting to shoot a glare to the sly snake walking off in another direction, which was returned.

Damon still had the cup, scrambling for the last remains of the ice cream before throwing it in the trash. He felt someone wrap around his waist and turned around only to see Remus.

"Since when are you so touchy-feely?"

"Since when are you such a buzzkill?" Remus tilted his head and grinned. Damon noticed Virgil standing behind the shorter teen. He waved awkwardly to Damon, while Damon nodded back. He turned back to look at Remus, who was now a reasonable distance from him, "I am so fucking hungry, let's go eat already."

Damon rolled his eyes, "Then don't skip breakfast all the time."

Remus groaned in response, already going to the cafeteria, so Damon and Vigril tagged along. Speaking of Virgil, he tapped him on his shoulder. Damon turned his head to look at him.

*'What's up with Logan and you?' *, Virgil signed to him. Oh, that's right, Damon finally started learning sign language. Although it was still broken, he understood enough, he was a fast learner.

Damon sighed, "Don't even ask, he's being an asshole."

'Why?'

Damon hesitated before answering, "...He's...jealous that I hang out with you more," Yes, that'll do it, lying is always a good alternative. Virgil didn't sign this time, instead scrunching up his face and rolling his eyes. Damon nodded, "Yeah, just don't tell him I told you, he would explode."

The cafeteria was emptier than usual. Still, they sat at their usual table, and Damon thanked whatever eldritch being was listening the others weren't here. The others? No, they weren't even a part of their group, they hung out with them once. Remus ate whatever food they served today, Damon couldn't tell what it was. He and Virgil were talking about something, but Damon couldn't bring himself to pay attention. The whole situation seemed like he was back in middle school, maybe it does to Logan too? Does he even remember him? Maybe he already forgot about their past friendship. Well, they were more frenemies than friends, Patton always brought them together despite their protests. Huh, he didn't talk to Patton in forever, but what did he expect? After what he did Damon has to business talking to him or his family.

He finally noticed the fingers snapping in front of his face, "Heeey, earth to Dee. Are you there?"

Damon pushed Remus' hand away, "Yeah, I'm sorry, just...thinking about stuff," he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to focus.

"Ooooh," Remus put a hand under his chin, "What kind of stuff?"

"None of your business."

Remus huffed, "Okay then, party-pooper, keep your secrets," he stuck his fork into the whatever-the-hell-cafeteria-was-serving-today and put it in his mouth. Virgil, who had pulled out his phone without the other noticing, turned the said phone around for Damon and Remus to look at.

'Srry, have to go. Told Em i would meet up with him dring lunch :P'

Damon waved his hand dismissively, "No problem," they both watched as Virgil got up and left the cafeteria.

"Look at that ass."

The taller one put a hand on his forehead, "God damn it, Remus, can you not sexualize one living being?"

"Sorry not sorry, the temptation is just too strong. Anygay, I wonder what Picani wants, do you think it's about us?"

Damon shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not, who cares..."

"Damn, Dee, what's up? You are the nosiest son of a bitch I know, don't you wanna go eavesdrop on them?" Remus gave the other a concerned, truly concerned look.

The other sighed, "Not really..."

"You, uh, you sure you're, like...totally gucci?"

He rolled his eyes, "Yes, Remus, I'm fine. Can we drop it?" Damon said in a more serious voice.

"..." Remus looked away, "Sure..." he frowned and ate the remains of his lunch. The table was silent up until Virgil returned, neither of them knew how long. The table was also silent after that, aside from a few greetings. Virgil didn't question it, and if he did, he didn't bring it up.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hello lovely people! Could you rec some fics where the Pack fucks Up and stiles is just so done so he leaves and the Pack regrets it and stiles makes them work and earn his forgiveness? Please it would be greatly appreciated and I love you all!

AND

Anonymous said:hey you know the "stiles leaves and comes back badass" trope? so do you have any fics to recommend?? it can be Sterek, Steter, Steterek or no ship at all

AND

Anonymous said:I have an obsession with Gerald tortures Stiles fics where Stiles leaves and comes back stronger! Can you recomment me some more, pls? ^-^

AND

roseymoonlit said:Do y’all know of any fics where stiles and Peter leave beacon hills together and fall in love or stiles comes back after leaving the pack and fall in love?

Soooo many Stiles is Kicked Out of the Pack! - Anastasia

On Pack, On Family, On Love by AlexTheShipper

(1/1 I 1,342 I General I Sterek)

Stiles doesn't feel he's truly part of the pack, and Jackson doesn't help the problem. Derek has something to say on the matter.

pack of two by ScarSacrifices

(1/1 I 1,735 I Not Rated I Steter)

“You’ll be alright. No one can hurt you now,” Peter breathed out clutched the sobbing boy to his chest. Peter took a shaky breath and smoothed his hand down the boy’s hair making low shushing sounds as he did so. “Just listen to my heartbeat sweetheart, I’m here. You’re not alone,” he clutched him tighter, “not anymore.”

Theif by Lady_Poison_Heart

(1/? I 1,934 I General I No Pairing)

After months of neglect stiles knew his pack bonds were going to break soon, and his father wouldnt miss him. So he runs away and finds himself in New York and turns to pick pocketing as a way to feed himself. One run in with a pair of avengers later he finds himself being stalked, and with tension brewing between stiles and the local wolf pack, things arn't going to end well for stiles.

The Murder Weapon by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

(1/1 I 2,183 I Teen I Stetopher)

Is the murder weapon guilty?

Black Out Days by Maifire

(5/? I 4,343 I Not Rated I Sterek)

He made his way towards the kitchen, twiddling a light bulb in between his fingers and pausing in the doorway. This was so stupid. The invites had gone out weeks ago, and since then Scott hadn’t given him the time of day. Stiles knew it had to do with the pack, but it still hurt. It wasn’t easy being the only human in a group of werewolves, but honestly what was he expecting? After Scott had been bitten, nothing was the same.

Someone who understands by SnazzyJazzyH

(1/1 I 5,004 I Teen I No Pairing)

“What are you doing here Stiles?” Jackson questioned, more confused than annoyed.

“I-I didn’t know where else to go,” Stiles shuffled looking down at his feet.

Jackson had never seen Stiles this beaten down. It was like everything that life could have possibly thrown at him had been. Something had to have happened that was unthinkable to turn this unbreakable boy into a shell standing before Jackson.

“Get in here,” Jackson opened the door wider, welcoming Stiles in.

The Lost and the Found by Levi_Winchester

(2/? I 5,604 I General I Sterek I MCD)

Stiles tried to turn their opinions of him around, but it didn't matter. It was time for him to embark on a journey on his own, a journey that could change the way everyone saw him for good. Could Stiles balance the Scales of Good and Evil? Or is he destined to fall into darkness?

--or--Stiles gets hurt really bad and Derek decides to bench him until further notice, but Stiles leaves town after meeting some relatives who can teach him how to master his magic. Chaos ensues.

Outrage by Mittymitty

(2/? I 7,334 I Teen I Sterek)

“Stiles—“ his father tried but was ignored as Stiles continued to rant.

“You ignore me all fucking year! Told me I was a waste of space! Told me it was my fault that mom died! Now, Mr. AA is so much better than me because I’m “moody!?” Fuck you! I’m angry! Why do you hate me, why do you fucking—“ Stiles suddenly stopped and began to truly hyperventilate and between his harsh breaths and sobs John could hear him say “why do you hate me?” over and over and the ex-sheriff’s heart broke right then and there and he began to cry to.

“B-breathe, son. It’s going to be ok. I love you so much and I am so sorry I treated you that way. I am so sorry. I swear spending some time in New York is going to do you some good.”

*********Stiles is an angry, over stressed, depressed and moody teenager and his father believes that sending him to New York with his half-brother will help him relax and get a new point of view.

Who needs them anyway by Midnightbluejay

(8/? I 9,838 I General I Sterek)

After the whole thing with Gerard, saving Jackson and him finally becoming a werewolf but still part kanima, and Allison and Scott patching things up, Stiles thought his life was returning to normal sorta. Then when he was gonna go for a pack meeting about some supernatural creature, but instead it was about him.

Blue Moon by Merlin_Wolfgang_Trades_Hale

(4/? I 10,221 I Not Rated I Stiles/Others)

After the events of the Nogistune, the Sheriff thinks Stiles needs a break. The pack's being distant and he's being left with too much time on his hands by himself, so he doesn't fight too hard when his dad sends him away. Where is he going? Well, an old buddy of his owes him a favor and he's calling it in. Who's that buddy?

Charlie Swan, Sheriff of Forks, Washington.

You can't protect me by Lansfics7

(4/? I 11,333 I Teen I Stydia)

Stiles is kicked out of the pack. Turns out it's a false alarm when everyone tries convince him to rejoin, claiming they did it to protect him. When he leaves to learn more about his spark and vows to leave Beacon Hills to figure things out, that's when he's needed most. Stiles has to chose between staying with his comfortable life, or helping his old friends.

Find Who You Are by mizaki

(16/? I 14,176 I Not Rated I Steter)

Stiles and Scott have a nasty break, Scott blames Stiles. Stiles needs some space, time. Stiles feels broken down, he wants to be stronger. Stiles wants to find out what he can do to help his family and friends.

Comes and Goes by toyoto031999

(12/? I 16,739 I Not Rated I Sterek I Rape)

It takes a lot for people to break. And Stiles is at his breaking point.

Meet a Small Death by authoresswithoutwords

(2/2 I 16,991 I Not Rated I Steter)

So, fighting monsters again and again, and being in a pack full of werewolves, is not exactly the recipe for a healthy human being to grow old. It actually only was a matter of time before Stiles fell. It may have been surprising, but no surprise.What was a surpise is that Stiles woke up again.

It seems wasted now by DaaroMoltor

(6/? I 20,082 I Teen I Sterek)

It's been months. Months of lonely days and lonelier nights. And Stiles can't understand what he did wrong.

A Healing Silence by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere

(28/28 I 36,334 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Stiles is slowly pushed out of the pack following his fight with Scott about Donovan's death. After receiving a phone number from an old friend, Stiles is surprised to find that it belongs to the one person who may be able to bring him back to himself.

Lost on you by devilscut

(7/7 I 51,322 I Mature I Sterek)

A deadly encounter with an Alpha changes Stiles' life forever - kicked out and betrayed by his best friend and brother, Scott McCall, he leaves Beacon Hills, but much to his surprise not alone. Ten years down the track, living a life he never dreamed possible, a chance meeting brings back memories of that night - the good and bad mixed with a whole lotta WTF that even now still has him scratching his head as to what happened.

Those Are The Days That Bind Us by s_a_m

(5/5 I 52,171 I Mature i Sterek)

His father wasn’t stupid. He was an officer of the law, trained to look for patterns. He confronted Stiles about werewolves and they shouted and Stiles tried to explain but his father was so, so, so mad, more mad than Stiles had ever seen him, ever in all his life and then his father looked at him and said,

“It’s like you’re not my son anymore.”

And Stiles broke.

To Walk the Long Road Home by AnAceAJokerAndAQueen

(31/? I 54,369 I Mature I Scallison)

Stiles goes to the Pack for an ordinary Pack meet, but what he finds out is not what he expected.

The Weight of the World by Belladdictedd

(25/? I 128,513 I Not Rated I Steve Rogers/Stiles)

Stiles had never known more to his life than the pack. Thus, when the pack decided he's too much of a collateral damage, he runs. While running from his past, he stumbled his way into S.H.I.E.L.D and somehow managed to squirm his way into the hearts of The Avengers, especially a certain Captain's.

When he had finally amount to a life worth living, the world just had to crash and burn. He and The Avengers are humanity's last hope--a heavy burden to bear with hard decisions to make, all while dealing with his old pack. Sometimes, you just can't save everyone; Stiles learned that the hard way.

Alpha, Mage, Pack by Foxfire2018

(25/? I 297,331 I Explicit I Sterek I Rape)

Set at the end of Season 2. Stiles was kidnapped and tortured for hours. Yet no one came for him. Hurt and cast out of the pack by people he thought cared for him, what is he to do? He finds himself accompanied by someone he never expected and someone he is eternally grateful for.Derek feels betrayed and foolish for what he allowed to happen. Out of anger and hurt he forced a valuable member he really started to care for out of his pack.With the pack scattered and people hurt, what will come of them? Will they bond together again in time for the next big bad?

[voidpants]

Convin with "Sorry, were you sleeping?"

Gavin isn’t a heavy sleeper.

Hasn’t been for the last twenty years.

It’s left him chronically sleep-deprived, but he’d rather wake up every half hour from the cats moving around the apartment, or his neighbor’s squeaky door, than to sleep through something he shouldn’t. Again.

(His therapist, when he had one, called it “hypervigilance” and “unhealthy,” but personally he just calls it a reasonable response to past experience.)

So, he’s awake and alert before the second knock even lands on his door.

A quick glance at the alarm clock says that it’s 4:27 in the morning, and God, he’s going to punch whoever thought waking him on fifty minutes of sleep after an eighteen hour shift was a good idea.

He rolls Dumbass gently off his back and onto the bed, and she lets out an angry mrrp in response before falling immediately back asleep. Gavin tries very hard not to be jealous of what amounts to nine pounds of fur and outrageous stupidity.

The apartment is bright outside his bedroom, and he squints, tired eyes irritated by the light as he staggers sluggishly towards the front door, the early morning silence interrupted only by another two knocks, halfhearted and hesitant.

He pulls open the door just as Connor raises his hand to knock again, and no, no, it’s way too early, and he’s way too tired for… much of anything, to be entirely fucking honest, but especially interacting with a coworker that he only vaguely tolerates.

“Tin can, it’s four fucking thirty in the morning,” he says, trying to rub the blur from his eyes. “…Why?”

“Oh,” Connor says, hand still hanging confused in the air, bland smile on his face. “Sorry, were you sleeping?”

It’s very tempting to just slam the door in his face and go back to bed and stay there for the next twelve hours.

Unspeakably tempting.

But the thing is, even fucked up from sleep deprivation, Gavin is an observant son of a bitch. It’s why he’s a good cop.

And Connor isn’t looking right.

He’s standing too straight, too still. His eyes are too wide and blank. His face too perfectly pleasant, plasticy. The way he’s moving his hands to rest behind his back is too deliberate.

He reminds Gavin of the first time they met, back when he hadn’t deviated yet. Or was pretending he hadn’t. Whatever.

He looks like a machine.

He looks like he’s trying to keep it together and isn’t doing the best job.

Fuck my life, Gavin thinks, sighing as he turns to walk towards the kitchen. He’s going to need the fucking coffee.

Connor closes the front door with a soft click before following him quietly into the apartment, hovering in the doorway to the kitchen as Gavin fucks around with the coffeemaker.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” Connor says after a couple of minutes, voice carefully even.

“Sure, whatever,” Gavin says, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against a cupboard as he waits for his coffee. “You didn’t tell me why, though.”

Connor goes silent again, and Gavin can feel his eyes boring into the back of his neck. The sensation has the dread crawling up his spine, old and familiar, but it can’t carve through the bone deep exhaustion enough to become real panic, and he can reason against it. Connor won’t hurt him, or at least not in a way that matters.

He doesn’t push, just prepares his coffee, and lets Connor work out whatever he wants to say.

“You…” Connor starts, hesitant, the slightest static cutting into the word. “I am equipped with very advanced psychological assessment software,” he settles on. “The main focus of the programs are of course to estimate a suspect’s likelihood of guilt, and to determine an optimal strategy for interrogation in order to secure a confession, but there are broader applications; my first mission was as a hostage negotiator.”

A pause.

“I’m very good at… seeing trauma, in victims.”

And Gavin’s going to have to stop him right fucking there, because this isn’t going to happen. They’re not friends, and it wouldn’t even matter if they were, because Gavin doesn’t talk about this to anyone.

“Well, thanks for the Android Zone marketing bit, it was very interesting,” he says, turning around to face him, watching Connor over the rim of his mug as he takes a sip of coffee. “Do you have a point to this that doesn’t end in me kicking your plastic ass out of my apartment?”

And fuck, Connor’s face crumples, and he looks so goddamn frail and human, wringing his shaking hands, standing in Gavin’s kitchen with tears rolling down his cheeks. “How do you bear it?” he asks, voice anguished in a way he’s never heard it before. “I don’t know- I don’t know what happened to you, but something did. And you- You go to work every day, and you keep it together, and I just- I need to know how? Because I can’t- I can’t seem to find a way for myself?”Gavin moves without thinking, the same way he does at a crime scene, faced with a terrified victim or witness; close but not too close, hand careful and light against Connor’s elbow, leading without forcing as he sits him down in one of the kitchen chairs, drags another up for himself with his free hand, maintaining that one simple point of contact.

“I’m supposed to live and be a symbol to my people, but I hear her voice all the time,” Connor sobs, hiding his eyes in his sleeve. “When I do well at work, it’s her praising me. When I fail, it’s like I’m trapped again, her disapproval weighing me down and freezing my processes. I feel guilty when I act like a machine because I should be alive, and I feel guilty when I don’t because she would be so angry with me.”

“Sounds like a real bitch of a situation,” Gavin says, eventually, once Connor’s sobs have died out, because what else fucking is there?

And it makes Connor laugh through his tears, so at least that’s something.

“I’m just so tired, I just want to know how to keep it under control,” he whispers, voice wobbly and weak.

“Yeah, I know,” Gavin sighs. “Look, I don’t think you should look to me as some sort of… fucking authority on how to deal with your fucked past, alright? I’m a dysfunctional bastard. No advice I can give you will be good for you. And your whole coming here and pulling this shit on me, just dragging my past out like you have that right is… pretty fucked, too.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, small and ashamed, and Gavin is just so fucking tired.

“Yeah well.” Gavin shrugs, getting up from his chair, hand carefully making it to Connor’s shoulder instead. “You’re lucky I’m running on no fucking sleep because if I was awake enough to get angry I’d probably shoot you.”

“Lucky me,” Connor says, smiling wanly at some point vaguely to the left of Gavin’s head.

“You can sleep here tonight,” Gavin offers, because he’s a fucking weak bitch and pathologically unable to make good life decisions for himself. “Or go into standby or whatever it is you tin cans do. And tomorrow you can get a fucking shrink, and learn about boundaries or some shit. Okay?”

Connor nods. “Okay.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go fucking sleep.”

[psyched2b]

Not Your Average Walk in the Park (Steve Rogers x Reader)

A/N: Thank you to @mermaidxatxheart for giving me this request! It was hoot to write!!!!

Warnings: Swearing, Minor Injuries and Lots of Fluff

P.S. Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

It was the same routine every single morning.

Alarm blaring in your face at 4:45am. Snooze.

Again at 4:55am. Debate if you’re ready to move. Snooze.

Final time, the alarm goes off at 5:05 am.

Roll out of bed. Get changed into the workout clothes you have already set out the night before. Slide into your runnings shoes. And run.

Despite living in the middle of the city, the moment you stepped foot into Central Park, it was like being transferred to another world.

You slip your earbuds into your ears and turn on your favorite workout playlist filled with upbeat music and begin your usual route around the park. You allow yourself to let your thoughts wander, not paying particular attention to your surroundings, going back and forth between living through fantasies in your mind and making mental to-do lists of what needs to be done that day.

That’s why you were quite surprised when you trip over your own feet and go tumbling to the ground.

Instinctually, you put your arms out to protect yourself from hitting your head, but then change your mind the last second, not wanting a broken wrist. You weren’t quick enough though and the result was that you scrape your arms from the wrist up. As painful as that was, you were more concerned about the shooting pains radiating from your right ankle.

“What the shit,” you wheeze out, curling into a ball on your side, trying to get over the shock of the trauma. You knew you should get up off the ground, but damn if you didn’t hurt. You want to reach over for your phone to make sure it survived the fall but your eyes catch the several hundred dollar device lying next to you, screen cracked and earbuds ripped.

Before you can mourn the loss of the device, you hear heavy footsteps running towards you and you look up, eyes nearly falling out of your head in surprise at who you saw.

Steve Rogers crouches down next to you, blue eyes filled with concern. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice washing over you in a gentle caress. You give an involuntary shiver.

You mean to give him an answer, but you but you were too busy openly ogling his muscular chest that was straining through the tight fitted Under Armour shirt. The man was simply dazzling in real life. Assuming he was out on a run, you were a bit envious because he didn’t even appear flushed, his blond hair sitting perfectly on his head. It was unfair. That, and it appeared that since he’s shown up in your textbooks back in grade school, he’s grown out a neat beard and it had a devastating effect on your libido.

“Ma’am?” he tries again, gently caressing your arm to grab your attention, concerned that he missed you hitting your head and that you were more seriously injured than he previously thought.

You flush in embarrassment and realized that you were still curled into a ball on the sidewalk. “Oh-uh, I,” you stutter, trying to sit up. Turning over, pain shoots through your leg and you let out an involuntary gasp. “Oh shit, that fucking hurts.” Then you remember who is in front of you and your face darkens more and you look at Steve in horror. “Oh no, I just cursed in front of America’s Golden boy.”

Steve chuckles, “Believe it or not, America’s Golden boy knows a swear word or two.”

You giggled a bit, feeling yourself relax a bit despite the stinging pain in your arms and leg. “Well color me curious.”

He smiles and you feel your heart flutter in your chest and you look away, eyes assessing the torn skin on the bottom of your arms. It looked like serious road rash, but nothing too deep, and for that you were thankful.

Steve clears his throat, catching your attention once again. “Do you think you can stand up? We’re in the middle of the way and I’d hate for you to get trampled by a stray person or animal.”

His question prompts you to attempt to roll your right foot, but just the slightest movement steals your breath because the pain was too much. Your eyes water and you look up at Steve. “I think I broke my ankle.”

Steve's face turns to one of concern and he looks around to see if there was anyone in the immediate area. There was not. Pleased with this, he focuses back on you. “I’m no doctor, but I could take a look at if real quick and then we can get you somewhere.” You bite your lip, thinking it over for a moment before nodding in consent.

You watch as he delicately prodded around your ankle, feeling for any swelling or tears. He’s very gentle with his touch and though it’s still painful, his intention of being careful causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You watch him with a careful gaze, watching his muscles in his arms ripple as he moves to until your shoe. Taking off the shoe itself sends a sharp pain through you and you can’t help the gasp that escapes through your lips.

He looks up at you through his eyelashes with an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he murmurs, managing to get the shoe off all the way. He then feels along the top of your foot, placing two fingers over a spot and holds them there for a moment.

He gives a relieved sigh and gently places your foot in his lap. “So, the good news is, I don’t think it’s broken. Bad news, it’s probably a severe sprain.”

You give a nod, accepting his diagnosis. “Guess it’s a good thing it’s Saturday. Gives me an excuse to be lazy.” You look at your phone again and scowl. “I would call someone, but thanks to breakable technology, I just might need to crawl home now.”

Steve frowns at that idea. “I don’t feel right leaving you on your own injured,” he admits aloud. “And you should still get your ankle looked at by a professional. That and get your arms properly cleaned so they don’t get infected.”

You snort unattractively. “Yeah, well unless you plan on carrying me out of here, I don’t see much of an option.”

Steve doesn’t seem to mind because he gives you a shrug, saying, “I can do that.”

Freezing, you look at him with surprise covering your face. “What?”

He smiles, amused at your reaction and flexes his arm muscles. “I have enough muscle to spare. Plus, I’ve always wanted to save a damsel in distress.”

You can feel your face heat in embarrassment, eyes switching from his arms back to his gaze. Your throat feels dry as you imagine what it would feel like to be carried by the superhero. Swallowing, you say, “Yeah, that wasn’t a suggestion.”

Steve’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “But it’ll work nonetheless!” He then leans forward and easily slides an arm behind your knees and the other behind your back. With very little effort, he stands up, not even teetering a little, and looks down at you with a smug look. “See? I’m stronger than I look.”

At this point, you’re convinced your face is in a perpetual state of being red. For someone so muscular, it was remarkably comfortable in his arms. You have to resist the urge to poke his pectoral, giving an indignant huff.

Without warning, Steve squats down and somehow manages to swipe up the remnants of your phone without dropping you and plops them in your lap.

Righting himself once again, you notice he’s giving you a shit-eating grin. “Are you trying to impress me by showing you can do squats while carrying me?”

“My wife likes it when I show off my muscles,” he teases, kissing the top of your head.

You couldn’t help but smile, nuzzling into his neck. “Yeah, it’s kind of hot.”

Steve starts off towards the tower and you enjoy being in his arms again. He had been gone on a covert mission for the last few weeks and it was complete radio silence. “I had no idea that you were coming home today,” you comment, tracing your fingers over his clavicle.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to surprise my wife on her morning run but she somehow managed to surprise me by faceplanting.”

You gasped in mock outrage, smacking the back of your hand over his chest. “I did NOT faceplant!”

Steve grins down at you and takes the chance to give you a quick peck. “You have your version and I have mine.”

You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest, pouting. “You’re just asking to sleep on the couch.”

The chucklefuck laughs. “Love you too, Mrs. Rogers.”

Tags for Everything: @bettercallsabs @thinkwritexpress-official @mermaidxatxheart

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[strangersihavedrawn]

170ish albums/EPs you should have bought in 2017.

This year has been a strange one. After a pretty desperate 2016, our bubbles remain burst, our political systems are still in shambles, the planet is slowly dying. It’s business as usual pretty much, except this time all of our heroes are sex pests (Cue a bit of guesswork as to which album has been redacted from this list). Fortunately, business as usual means there’s too much good music to even keep track of, but I’ve done my best. So, without further faff, here’s my annual list in chronological order, with my featured album from each month in a doodle, as I am want to do.

January

04/01 Pink Guy - Pink Season (Self-Released) 13/01 Code Orange - Forever (Roadrunner) 13/01 Omar Rodriguez-Lopez - Roman Lips (ORL Projects / Ipecac) 13/01 The xx - I See You (Young Turks) 20/01 As It Is - okay. (Fearless) 20/01 When We Team Up - Shut Up and Fly (Self-Released) 20/01 WSTR - Red, Green Or Inbetween (No Sleep) 21/01 Palladino - Supersymmetry (Hembleciya) 27/01 Japandroids - Near To The Wild Heart Of Life (Anti-) 27/01 Omar Rodriguez-Lopez - Zen Thrills (ORL Projects / Ipecac) 29/01 On a Hiding to Nothing - Formaldehyde (Umlaut) 31/01 Push Over - Demo EP (Esque)

February

03/02 Less Than Jake - Sound The Alarm (Pure Noise) 03/02 The Menzingers - After the Party (Epitaph) 03/02 Smile and Burn - Get Better Get Worse (Uncle M / Grand Hotel Van Cleef) 10/02 Homebound - The Mould You Build Yourself Around (Rude) 10/02 Omar Rodriguez-Lopez - Chocolate Tumor Hormone Parade (ORL Projects / Ipecac) 13/02 Glowbug - Fantasma Del Tropico (Self-Released) 24/02 Broadbay - Five Year Plan (Hanger / Copper Top) 24/02 Crystal Fairy - Crystal Fairy (Ipecac) 24/02 Decade - Pleasantries (Rude) 24/02 Guillotine - Sapphire (Failure By Design) 24/02 Nightlife - Salt & Acid (Speaking Tongues) 24/02 Thundercat - Drunk (Brainfeeder)

March

03/03 Converge - Jane Live (Deathwish, Inc.) 03/03 Minus The Bear - Voids (Suicide Squeeze) 10/03 Can’t Swim - Fail You Again (Pure Noise) 10/03 Self Defense Family - Bastard Form b/w Maybe You Could Explain It To Me (Alternatives Label) 11/03 Atta Girl - Betty’s Begonia (Trrrash) 13/03 Traits - Limits (Self-Released) 17/03 Pulled Apart By Horses - The Haze (Caroline International) 17/03 Sorority Noise - You’re Not As ____ As You Think (Triple Crown / Big Scary Monsters) 17/03 Stolas - Stolas (Equal Vision) 17/03 Western Addiction - Tremulous (Fat Wreck) 24/03 Catch Fire - A Love That I Still Miss (Rude) 24/03 Coast To Coast - The Length of a Smile (Fox) 24/03 Creeper - Eternity, In Your Arms (Roadrunner) 24/03 Fucked Up - Year Of The Snake (Tankcrimes) 24/03 Great Cynics - POSI (Specialist Subject / GUERRILLA ASSO / Lame-O) 24/03 Lotus Eater - Lotus Eater EP (Self-Released) 31/01 Mastodon - Emperor of Sand (Reprise)

April

07/04 Blood Youth - Beyond Repair (Rude) 07/04 Father John Misty - Pure Comedy (Bella Union) 07/04 The Flatliners - Inviting Light (Dine Alone / Rise) 07/04 The Smith Street Band - More Scared Of You Than You Are Of Me (Specialist Subject / Pool House / Side One Dummy) 14/04 Loathe - The Cold Sun (Sharptone) 15/04 Lost Avenue - Best Friends (Rustys Rekords) 16/04 Kendrick Lamar - DAMN. (Aftermath / Interscope) 20/04 Eternity Forever - Eternity Forever (Esque) 21/04 Bear Trade - Silent Unspeakable (Everything Sucks / Dead Broke / Waterslide) 21/04 Have Mercy - Make The Best Of It (Hopeless) 21/04 Self Defense Family - BBC Session (Deathwish, Inc.) 21/04 what gives - feels good (Skeletal Lightning) 21/04 The Winter Passing - Double Exposure (Big Scary Monsters / 6131) 28/04 Gorillaz - Humanz (Parlophone / Warner Bros.) 28/04 He Is Legend - few (Spinefarm) 28/04 New Found Glory - Makes Me Sick (Hopeless) 28/04 Thurston Moore - Rock N Roll Consciousness (Ecstatic Peace!)

May

01/05 X-TV - EXIT (Self-Released) 05/05 At The Drive-In - in.ter a.li.a (Rise) 05/05 Gnarwolves - Outsiders (Big Scary Monsters / Tangled Talk) 05/05 Mac Demarco - This Old Dog (Captured Tracks) 09/05 Self Defense Family - Wounded Masculinity (Triple B) 12/05 Gun Shy - The Long Dance (Wrong Way Round) 15/05 Jordan Mackampa - Tales For The Broken (Self-Released) 19/05 Employed To Serve - The Warmth of a Dying Sun (Holy Roar) 19/05 Higher Power - Soul Structure (Venn / Flatspot) 19/05 Miss Vincent - Somewhere Else (Uncle M) 19/05 Tigers Jaw - Spin (Black Cement) 26/05 Create To Inspire - Sickness (Basick) 26/05 Frenzal Rhomb - Hi-Vis High Tea (Fat Wreck) 26/05 Pet Symmetry - Vision (Polyvinyl)

June

02/06 ‘68 - Two Parts Viper (Cooking Vinyl) 02/06 Dystopian Future Movies - Time (Oak Tree) 02/06 Grove Street Families - VOL 1.0 (Venn) 02/06 Mutoid Man - War Moans (Sargent House) 02/06 Rainfalls - Creep (Self-Released) 05/06 EAT DIRT. - I (Self-Released) 08/06 Bares - Salty Kiss / In Lieu (Self-Released) 09/06 BROCKHAMPTON - SATURATION (BROCKHAMPTON / EMPIRE Distribution) 09/06 Donnie Willow - Exhibition (Sunbird) 09/06 Kamikaze Girls - Seafoam (Big Scary Monsters) 16/06 Broadside - Paradise (Victory) 16/06 Chon - Homey (Sumerian) 16/06 Color Film - Living Arrangements (Epitaph) 16/06 Faux - Faux (Speaking Tongues) 16/06 Fleet Foxes - Crack-Up (Nonesuch) 16/06 Harbinger - Human Dust (Basick) 16/06 Portugal. The Man - Woodstock (Atlantic) 16/06 Single Mothers - Our Pleasure (Dine Alone / Big Scary Monsters) 23/06 Aviator - Loneliness Leaves The Light On For Me (No Sleep)  23/06 Rozwell Kid - Precious Art (SideOneDummy) 23/06 Slowlights - I Try So Hard (Killing Moon)

July

07/07 Melvins - A Walk With Love and Death (Ipecac) 07/07 Puppy - Vol. II (Spinefarm) 12/07 Baggage - The Good That Never Comes (Self-Released) 14/07 Bad Sign - Live & Learn (Basick) 14/07 Fights and Fires - Live Life Like a Tourist (Lockjaw) 14/07 The Gospel Youth - Always Lose (Rise) 19/07 Listener - Being Empty: Being Filled I (Truth Seeker / Black Bassett / Smiths Food Group DIY) 21/07 Energy - The Witching Hour (Self-Released) 21/07 Tyler, The Creator - Flower Boy (Columbia) 21/07 Wot Gorilla? - Angel Numbers (Self-REleased) 21/07 Young Hunger - Wear Me Down (Self-Released) 25/07 Converge - I Can Tell You About Pain (Epitaph / Deathwish, Inc.) 27/07 MC Lars - The Jeff Sessions (Horris Records) 28/07 Manchester Orchestra - A Black Mile to the Surface (Caroline International) 28/07 Milk Teeth - Be Nice (Roadrunner) 28/07 Oceans Ate Alaska - Hikari (Fearless)

August

04/08 Dale Crover - Fickle Finger Of Fate (Joyful Noise) 04/08 Dead Cross - Dead Cross (Ipecac) 11/08 The Cribs - 24-7 Rock Star Shit (Sonic Brew) 11/08 Mush - Protect Your Brand (Skeletal Lightning) 18/08 Everything Everything - A Fever Dream (Sony RCA) 18/08 Wallflower - Where It Fell Apart (Self-Released) 24/08 Fizzy Blood - Summer of Luv (Killing Moon / Ayla) 25/08 BROCKHAMPTON - SATURATION II (Question Everything, Inc. / EMPIRE Distribution) 25/08 Queens Of The Stone Age - Villains (Matador) 25/08 Turnover - Good Nature (Run For Cover)

September

08/09 Comeback Kid - Outsider (New Damage / Nuclear Blast) 08/09 Death From Above - Outrage! Is Now (Last Gang) 08/09 Stray From The Path - Only Death Is Real (Sumerian) 08/09 Such Gold - Deep in a Hole (Bird Attack) 08/09 Angelo Badlamenti - Twin Peaks: Limited Event Series Original Soundtrack (Rhino) 08/09 Various Artists - Twin Peaks: Music from the Limited Event Series (Rhino) 15/09 The Apology Tour - This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things (Save Your Generation) 15/09 Arcane Roots - Melancholia Hymns (Easy Life / Red Essential) 15/09 Beaumont - Honestly (Reclaim Music) 15/09 Hot Water Music - Light It Up (Rise) 15/09 Seaway - Vacation (Dine Alone / Pure Noise) 22/09 The Bronx - V (Cooking Vinyl) 22/09 Caracara - Summer Megalith (Flower Girl) 22/09 Circa Survive - The Amulet (Hopeless) 22/09 Mastodon - Cold Dark Place (Reprise) 22/09 Metz - Strange Peace (Sub Pop) 22/09 Prawn - Run (Topshelf) 29/09 Primus - The Desaturating Seven (ATO) 29/09 Propagandhi - Victory Lap (Epitaph) 29/09 The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die - Always Foreign (Epitaph)

October

06/10 Citizen - As You Please (Run For Cover) 13/10 Beck - Colors (Capitol) 13/10 Courtney Barnett & Kurt Vile - Lotta Sea Lice (Matador / Marathon / Milk!) 13/10 The Front Bottoms - Going Grey (Fueled By Ramen) 13/10 Iron Chic - You Can’t Stay Here (SideOneDummy) 13/10 Knuckle Puck - Shapeshifter (Rise) 13/10 Roam - Great Heights & Nosedives (Hopeless) 17/10 FUCK *(It’s Pronounced SHIT!)* - It’s Still Pronounced SHIT! (Self-Released) 20/10 Movements - Feel Something (Fearless) 20/10 Muskets - Chew (No Sleep) 21/10 Listener - Being Empty : Being Filled Vol. II (Black Basset) 27/10 Gold Key - Hello, Phantom (Venn) 27/10 Heavy Hearts - On a Chain (Failure By Design) 27/10 Jamie Lenman - Devolver (Big Scary Monsters) 27/10 Slaughter Beach, Dog - Birdie (Lame-O / Big Scary Monsters)

November

03/11 Converge - The Dusk In Us (Epitaph / Deathwish, Inc.) 03/11 Lifetight - Self-Tightled (Crooked Noise) 10/11 Listener - Being Empty : Being Filled Vol. III (Sounds of Subterrania) 10/11 Quicksand - Interiors (Epitaph) 10/11 Versus You - Birthday Boys (Noiseworks / G Chord) 17/11 Milk Teeth - Go Away (Roadrunner) 17/11 Onsind - We Wilt, We Bloom (Specialist Subject) 17/11 Valliers - Lost In Familiarity (Dream Atlantic) 24/11 At The Drive-In - Diamanté (Rise) 24/11 Björk - Utopia (One Little Indian) 24/11 Lightcliffe - For a While (Failure By Design) 24/11 Rain - Abstract Vision (Venn)

December

01/12 The Dear Hunter - All Is As All Should Be (Self-Released) 01/12 Glassjaw - Material Control (Century Media) 15/12 BROCKHAMPTON - SATURATION III (Question Everything, Inc. / EMPIRE Distribution) 15/12 Gun Shy / THE EAST / summerbruise / Superdose Gangway - BSR / OPR 4-Way Split (Beth Shalom / Old Press) 15/12 Lemuria - Recreational Hate (Turbo Worldwide / Asian Man / Big Scary Monsters) 15/12 N.E.R.D - No One Ever Really Dies (i am OTHER / Columbia) 21/12 Original Sharks - Hundred Grand to the Man (Self-Released) 26/12 Scum Couch - Ignorant Bore (Self-Released) Okay, that’s your lot. Now go away.

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

“Winners Don’t Do Drugs”

Summary: chuuya and chuoya’s celebration of 4:20 is cut short when the weed police arrive to investigate an anonymous tip

Notes: HAPPY 4/20 BITCHES HAVE A FUCKIN MEME LOL

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

“oh shit bro i think imma bout 2 nut on ur bodey” chuuya grunted as chuoya shoved his patent-pending Pussy Rekter 69 TM further up his tight little ass.

“boy howdy pardner” chuoya purred seducktevly, yanking chuuyas nipple piercings with one tiny lil babby hand and shoving the bick further, ever further, up the tightest ass in yokohama with the other. “i cant wait to feel that sweet dick gravy all over my biscuits yall”

“HOLD UP THE FUCK BRO” chuuya SHRIEKED, shoving chuoya off the racecar bed and onto the pile of empty cheeto bags and mountain dew cans on the flor (chuuyas a fucckin l33t af mlg pro, thats why he was 360-no scoping that ass). “now is NOT the time for the sexk!”

chuoya gasped, clutching his cowboy hat to his rippling, nut-splattered pecs. “but pardner isnt it ALWAYS time for the secks?” teers rolled down chuoyas cheeks. teers of nut rolled down his ass cheeks. “i thought yall were the hron 4 meh. is my rough-ridin stallion of a bod not sexy enough for yall?”

“its not that” chuuya assured the orangenette, patting his sticky head. “im very much hrorny for ur body and lov making the sex on u bUT-“ he jestured wildly at the ninjago alarm clock on the bed stand. it looked like cole from ninjago- chuuya had asked for one that looked like lord garmadon but his bitch ass mom got him the wrong one. thx obama. right on coles chest (behind all the nut) there was a clock that said 4:20

the ninago alarm clock bussted out its ninjago alarm cOCK and ejaculated on the chuuyas. “ITS NINJA O CLOCK” he cried, gyrating his shapley birthing hips.

chuuya gravely patted the ninjago alarm clock’s throbbing erection ‘u bet ur sugar sweet ass it is” he said very seriously. he turned to chuoya, also, very seriously, with seriousness in his eyes. “it is has become THE TIME”

chuoya smorked. “well shove a horses tallywacker up my feedin hole and call me mom!” he said, pulling a bong out of his ass. “looks like its time for some good ol fashioned plant-fuckin!”

“oh yah” chuuya moaned, shoving the bong into his face mouth. “imma giv this weed the real good succ. i lov to smonk weed”

“yeehaw!” chuoya agreed, injecting preciesly one weed into his dicc.

“im so fucckin high rn!” chuuya whimpered, licking the rim of the bong to suc up that dank weed juice.

“HIGH!??? NO ONE IS GETHING HIGH WHEN THE WEED POLICE IS AROUND!!!1!” the door was knocked down, revealing EGGNOG SACKAGUCHI who had knocked down the door.

“EgGNOG??????” chuuya exclained. “how did u knock down that door?”

eggnog grinned. “they dont call me sackaguchi for nothin.” he frowned and shook his massive girthy sack at the chuuyas. “im here 2 arrest u for snorting weed”

“u dont snort weed u fuckin loser” chuuya snorted. “hav u ever even done a weed in ur life u fuckin n00b?”

“ya, i bet yall were REALLY popular in high scool” chuoya added. him and chuuya slapped their peens together. it was like a sekret handshake but like with dicks.

“i dont know what u do with weed bc im not a filthy MISCREANTS” eggnog sackaguchi screamed. he was is cry bc the chuuyas were right and he was a fucckin loser. his tears fell onto his limp ballsack. “all i know about weed is that weed is BAD and u fuckos are going to WEED JAIL”

chuuyas dick got super duper mega erect with excitement!!!! “a hole jail made of weed!??” he screamed. “all my dreams are coming tru!!! next thing u know it gordon ramsay will burst thru the wall like the kool aid man and start giving everyone hot blowies!” a 6’2 angery blond guy burst thru the wall like the kool aid man and chuuya cremed his jenes! “OH MY FUCK ITS GORDON RAMSAY” chuuya whimpered loudly, thrusting his eager and ready asshole toward the new arrival. “TAKE ME RAW GORDEN, MY BODY IS READY”

the blondette pushed his glasses up his nose so they did the anime thing. “im not gordon ramsay u ignrorant slut” he growled. “yeah this is my weed police partner kunikidonk” eggnog said smugly. he said everythign smugly bc he was a stupid fuck.

kunikidonk knodded. “yea that. i am heer to handcuff u-“

chuuya sprinted ass-first at kunikidonk shriekign at the top of his lungs “YES DADDY YES!!!!TIE ME UP SCOTTY”

eggnog slapped chuuya in the face with his massive sack. “DONT TAKE THE NAME OF STAR TREK IN VAIN U FILTHTY WHORE” he shrieked. he got so angery he popped a sack boner!

“but w8 yall!” chuoya exclaimed. “how did yall even know chuuyall and me were doin weed?”

kunikidonk did the anime glasses thing again. “we got a tip off from an anonymous source”

“you can get your tip off on me anytime gordon daddy” chuuya panted, humping kunikidonks leg. “i can locate ur lam sauce- in my ASS!!!!!1!!”

“yall just wait” chuoya growled as sackaguchi handcuffed him to his massive sack and dragged him out the door. “ill find out who snitched if its the last thing i do!”

“youll NEVRE find out!” eggnog laffed cruelly. “it was a top-secret classified anonymous person and i would never tell u that it was cyuya!”

chuuya stopped grinding on kunikidonk long enough to be outraged. “IT WAS CYUYA?!”

“HOLY SHIT IT CAN READ MY MIND!!!” sackaguchi screeched. he was so freked out that he uncuffed chuoya from his sack and jumped out the window! at least he meant to jump- his thicc sacc got stucc and kunikidonk had to push him out.

kunikidonk shook his head sadly as he handcuffed the chuuyas and dragged them out the door. “you too are going to b behind bars for a long, long time”

“oh daddy how long is it?” chuuya salivated.

kunikidonk crouched down so he could look chuuya seriously in the eyes. “ten to twenty-five”

chuuya fainted from pleasure!!!!!

as kunikidonk pulled his sick-ass polise car out of the apartment, chuoya looked out the back window and saw cyuya smirking evilly.

“WHY DID YALL BETRAY ME BROTHER” chuoya sobbed over the sound of his breaking hart and withering boner. “WHY DID YALL CALL THE WEED POLICE”

cyuya shook his head in sadness as he pressed a button on the remote control he was holding. the remote control was to control the bomb he planted in kunikidonks police car and when he pressed the button it blew the fuck up. tears poured down cyuyas face, wiping away the blood and nut stains on his cheeks. “winners dont drugs.”