#but how the fuck did that even get approved by tumblr

[strawberrybabydog]

the tumblr ads that play at 25%+ volume and keep playing audio long after i've scrolled passed is really successful marketting. i am not annoyed or off-put by unwanted screaming royalty free audio after 10 minutes of silent peaceful scrolling. infact, every time this happens i scroll all the way back to the ad with glee because i am overjoyed at the idea of downloading the hospital gore app for children

#do you know what i mean by the hospital gore app for children #a few days ago i kept getting recommended genuine real cartoon gore ads it was a game for kids #and i was like what the fuck child is downloading an app where you pull bugs and puss and hair out of peoples infected feet. actual trauma #i reported all the ones i saw and havent seen them again because they are genuinely fucking sickening. im serious they are #but how the fuck did that even get approved by tumblr #anyways this specific gore ad didnt blast me with music but a fuck ton of them do now and im like. why #i have to manually unmute videos that automatically play on my dash #theres no way to mute these ads unless you turn your phone volume off so rip any music u were listening to #like you just scroll by and the uwu woyalty fwee music starts playing on blast. on its own. no mute button no way to opt in or out of this #what is going on why is tumblr this fucking bad. who approved ads that yell at you????? who approved gore for kids ad??? #not dog #personal

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Clownfall: Endgame

I am calling it that in the full knowledge that batshit things may yet happen, but listen. Listen. We have a year left before the general election. I am hedging my bets and assuming all that comes in that year will be Tory manoeuvring ahead of that. Let's all hope for a nice quiet year in which everything can fall neatly under that banner, that won't ruin this naming convention.

Previous Reading

Important Terminology - Required Reading

What is a Whip?

How do Whips work?

Shadow Cabinet

Front Benchers, Back Benchers and the Cabinet

What do we need to call an early General Election?

The Adventures of Big Dog the Clown - Suggested Reading

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Elanor’s Guide to Liz Truss - Suggested Reading

Character-based prequel

The Premiership of Liz Truss

The Next Steps - Suggested Reading

The post-Truss contenders

Bye Matt

BoJo Resigns as MP

Alright, that's probably everything. Just nice to have it all in one place, innit? If you would like a nice soothing soundtrack to your reading, here's my recommendation. On with the show!

Clownfall: Endgame

Wednesday

So, let's start with charismatic and charming Home Secretary Suella Braverman! You may remember her from such hits as "Quitting before she could be fired after breaking the law only to be rehired by Sunak almost immediately and without consequence to appease the right wing nutjobs in the party", and "Claiming Pakistani men have a culture that makes them work in abuse rings to target vulnerable white English girls" (I should add that, if you are unfamiliar with Suella Braverman, regardless of what that quote implies, she is not, in fact, white); recently she made the news because she announced that being homeless is a "lifestyle choice". So true, Suella! They could give it up any time they wanted. They could, for example, get together and break in and steal your fucking house.

But in particular, here we're focussing on her recent stance towards the multiple huge pro-Palestine marches that have been taking place in London. So far she has indicated that she wants people who wave Palestinian flags to be arrested, so that's very measured and rational of her; but, last Wednesday (Nov 8th), she decided to write a lil opinion piece in the Times all about how mean and biased and liberal the police are. This is an absolutely fascinating assertion to I suspect literally anyone who has ever been involved with the police. But no! Quoth Suella, aggressive right-wing protesters are "rightly met with a stern response", while "pro-Palestinian mobs" are "largely ignored".

And, she claims, the march on Saturday isn’t simply a cry for help for Gaza, but an "assertion of primacy by certain groups - particularly Islamists - of the kind we are more used to seeing in Northern Ireland".

Imagine how well all that went down.

Thursday

You are underestimating how that went down, because it emerges that Suella deVille did not, in fact, get any form of validated sign-off or permission from Number 10 before squirting her ill-informed liquid horseshit all over the front desk of the Times news room, and that, Tumblrs, you'll be surprised to learn, is actually quite an important and compulsory part of criticising the police when you are the Home Secretary. Like, there is a Ministerial Code about this. It is very clear. It is in Article 8.2, Tumblrs. Thou Shalt Have Permission From Number 10 Before Making Media Interventions.

“The content was not agreed with Number 10,” a spokesperson for Prime Minister Rishi Sunak told reporters, referring to the prime minister’s Downing Street office. The ministerial code is clear that any ministerial media interventions need approval from No 10.

-AlJazeera

And the Tories are furious! The bloodbath forms quickly and loudly and the hounds start baying! Clown noses are flying everywhere! The factions are drawn! Because even now, there are Tories too stupid to understand that whether you agree with someone or not they still have to follow the rules! Also the other parties realise they can offer some actual opposition here, given that Suella has essentially dragged a barrel into the middle of the House of Commons dressed in a fish costume, handed around a set of loaded rifles, and then crawled inside to wait. The result is that the calls for her resignation are both deafening and pleasingly cross-party.

"(This is a) dangerous attempt to undermine respect for police", says Labour's shadow home secretary Yvette Cooper. "(It's) irresponsible," says London mayor Sadiq Khan. "The PM's weakness when it comes to standing up to Suella is the most shocking thing in all this," claims a senior Labour source.

They're wrong, of course. The most shocking thing is Liberal Democrat leader Sir Ed Davey realising he can actually appear in the paper if he plays this right and so surfaces to attempt some politics. "(Sunak) must finally act with integrity by sacking his out-of-control home secretary!" he declares, frightening many MPs who had forgotten he was even in the room with them.

Meanwhile, several Tories approach the BBC anonymously.

"The home secretary's awfulness is now a reflection on the prime minister. Keeping her in post is damaging him," says one. Another straight-up describes her as "unhinged". Another claims the comparison with Northern Ireland is "wholly offensive and ignorant", and really, all of this is permanently triggering that "Heartbreaking: the worst person you know just made a great point" reaction image.

Saturday

Hey, speaking of reaction images, look, Labour has a go:

Well. They tried.

BUT! Do you want to know the INTERESTING bit??!

Enter: Nadine Dorries! Mad shrieking pink harpy who spends her days maintaining a BoJo shrine in her bedroom! Always the most hinged of politicians, let's see what she has to say.

Former cabinet minister Nadine Dorries claimed Ms Braverman was trying to get sacked to give her a platform of martyrdom in service of the right-wing. "The competition is on now for who is going to be the leader of the opposition," Ms Dorries told the BBC.

???!??!?

PERTINENT POLITICAL OBSERVATION FROM DORRIES?!?!?? The most shocking part of this whole affair. Remember that time she yelled at a journalist during an interview about Boris Johnson's latest scandal when he asked her how Johnson was feeling about the whole thing and inadvertently implied they were having an affair when No One Asked? God, wonders never cease. She's even acknowledging the Tories can't win the next GE, look. I'd say this is growth, except I am 100% positive she's just being catty about BlowJo being fired again.

Anyway, the real Saturday issue: it's Armistice Day, and there's a pro-Palestine march planned.

Now, to give context, Armistice Day has a creepy level of patriotic state-worship attached to it in the UK. Some time in October everyone on telly suddenly starts wearing a poppy, and if you don't you get hanged, drawn and quartered by (a) the British press, and then (b) a baying mob outside your living room. You most be performatively sad. You must perform reverence and hero worship and say things like "Never again" all while whole-heartedly supporting current wars. You must talk about "our brave boys", and share the works of dead poets from the trenches, and then completely fail to absorb any of their lessons. If anyone tries to wear the white poppy to distance themselves from the current political appropriation while still commemorating the millions of conscripted casualties, you accuse them of being "woke" and pissing on the worthy dead of WW1. It's a whole thing, and politicians love using it as an excuse to point fingers and mock each other for being insufficiently patriotic if they wear the wrong tie to the ceremonies, or choose to walk with actual veterans rather than a head of the current army, or any number of other things. And then on November the 12th they'll order a drone strike or something.

So, off the bat, you can see how a pro-Palestine rally on the same day was likely to be seen as provocative to some.

"Some" included Sunak! He didn’t (publicly at least) ask the police to ban the protest, but did call on organisers to call it off, claiming the choice of date was “provocative and disrespectful”, because as I say, a march calling for the ceasefire of a genocide is super disrespectful to every sad dead poet in a trench who dreamed of a ceasefire so they could live, or something.

But the inevitable therefore happens, which is that far-right activists agree that it's disrespectful, and so decide to violently target the march to show their respect for the idea of peace on Armistice Day, or something.

Here's the planned route by the organisers:

Note, though, that the Armistice ceremony happens at the Cenotaph - visibly nowhere near the march. These two events actually wouldn't have overlapped, if it weren't for far-right protestors deliberately linking them to stop them being disrespectfully linked, or something.

And that's exactly what happened. From the Guardian:

Perhaps the most striking incident, though, was when far-right protesters charged past police who sought to hold them back from the Cenotaph. In this video, a man shouts “this is fucking our country” in celebration. Whereas the pro-Palestine march had been excluded from the area as a precaution, the far right was not; by overwhelming the police, they supposedly sought to defend the site from an enemy that simply wasn’t there.

(that's quite a good article of the whole thing, actually, I recommend giving it a read.)

Crucially to the clown show, though, several politicians and others accused Suella deVille of emboldening the far-right, which... well, several of the far-right protestors straight up said was the case on the day, so hard to disagree, really.

Rumours of a reshuffle in Whitehall circumnavigate the land so fast the truth gets sucked into a tornado and is declared MIA.  Here's the thing! I've covered a few Cabinet reshuffles by now, Tumblrs, you know the drill. Reshuffles are always deniable until they actually happen – so if, say, a reshuffle was going to happen on Monday 13 November 2023, there’d be no need to publicise it in advance. That way, if things change and politics happen, you don't need to retract anything :)

Because, remember: reshuffles are always controversial.  Yes, some people get demoted, and those people will often kick off, and some people who don't deserve it get promoted, and lots of people kick off.  But the big thing is that a lot more people get overlooked for promotion.

His most ardent supporters would say that Rishi Sunak is a cautious man (if you'll allow me a moment to express my own view on the matter, Tumblrs, if you'll forgive this crumb of personal opinion amongst my otherwise impeccable journalling of greatest integrity, I once did a teambuilding task with my students where they had to build the best possible bridge out of uncooked spaghetti and pieces of marshmallow, and I personally would liken the structural integrity of his spine to the losing team's entry), and reshuffles will spread a lot of disappointment to Tory MPs who lose – or fail to gain – a cabinet position.

So, all in all... regardless of Suella's idiocy...

There's no guarantee of a reshuffle. Rumours are just that - whether they prove to be true or not remains to be seen.

Week Commencing Monday 13th November, 2023

New week, new challenges! And it's going to be a big week this week. On Wednesday (tomorrow, at time of writing), three big things are going to be announced, and these announcements will colour everything else this week:

One.  The Supreme Court decide whether the government will be allowed to enact their plan to send some migrants claiming asylum in the UK to Rwanda, a signature Braverman plan that human rights campaigners (including many in Rwanda) have been trying to block for ages.

It’s a massive deal anyway – a flagship government idea that’s been bogged down in the court, and we’ll finally have an answer one way or another.  For what it’s worth, the Tories aren’t confident about winning it, either.  The optimists among them reckon it’s a 50/50 chance, the pessimists reckon it’s 70/30 against, so it's iffy at best.

But here's the thing!

Plenty of Tories have always disliked Suella.  Others could handle the odd outburst she has, but can’t stomach the sheer number of them lately - the Lib Dem non-entity man was absolutely right that she is rapidly growing out of control and just does not know when to shut the entire fuck up.

Which means! If the Supreme Court allows the Rwanda plan, Braverman could become emboldened, like a far-right protest injuring police officers to defend the cenotaph from people who are nowhere near it and have no interest in it.  Do we want an emboldened Braverman?? Well; no, obviously. I also don't want dysentery, or rotten meat, or a serial killer in my neighbourhood. But it's a question even Tories are asking themselves, which is notable.

Plus, even if the court allows it, there will still be months of planning, and lawyers might still prevent the plans in the long run...  But psychologically, the issue is this: the government wants this win, but probably doesn’t benefit from Braverman feeling victorious.

Two.  We’ll get inflation figures.  The government promised to halve inflation, and it seems likely they’ve managed this.  Expect them to massively celebrate this, to distract from the promises they haven’t kept e.g. waiting lists in England, competent governance, etc.

Three.  Voting on a ceasefire in Israel seems likely for Wednesday.  It’s the SNP’s idea, and it won’t affect government policy (they won’t support a ceasefire – they claim it’ll empower Hamas).

But it’s a big deal for Labour, even more so than the Tories.  A Shadow minister has already resigned over the war.  A bunch of frontbenchers want a ceasefire, but that isn’t Keir Starmer’s policy, a man who is calling for the colours of the Israel flag to be shown at sports matches to show that "we stand in solidarity with Israel", because you can really count on Starmer to fuck up everything he touches.  So what do they do?  Abstain?  Claim they had a prior commitment??  We might see more resignations, basically.  Big day for Starmer.

So! With all that in mind...

Monday

8.43am

Oh look. Timestamps are back. I wonder if that suggests anything?

Suella Braverman is sacked as Home Secretary.

But! Sunak is accused of waiting too long! Which he demonstrably did!

He should have made the decision after the illegal article that she shouldn't have written and triggered a far-right rally on fucking Armistice Day.  Instead, remember that 'cautious' descriptor I talked about?? He waited until the tide had turned against her completely, and now looks like he (a) was too much of a useless wimp to fire her until he was sure people would still like him and pat his dick and tell him he's a Good PM, and (b) only fired her because he caved in to that appalling lefty liberal cabal that somehow these days includes the Metropolitan Police of all fucking people, and she'd have been able to stay otherwise.

Shout out to the best comment from Reddit:

u/nowonmai666: Doesn't she normally get sacked on a Friday so she can have the weekend off before being reappointed?

Anyway, that's the big risk now: Braverman’s supporters can claim she was only fired because Sunak caved in to the left.

8.56am

Tory MP Andrea Jenkyns claims Sunak only sacked Braverman because he caved in to the left.

9.00am

Neil O'Brian, Pharmacy Minister, quits to live out his stated dream of being a back-bencher with less power.

*sus*

9.09am

Nick Gibb, Schools Minister, quits to live out his stated dream of being more diplomatic, or something.

*sus*

9.42am

The Lib Dems decide to build on the success of their leader getting to be on telly for his one comment on Thursday and call for a general election.  Says Ed Davey: “It was the Prime Minister’s sheer cowardice that kept her in the job even for this long. We are witnessing a broken party and a broken government, both of which are breaking this country.”

Good job! They're having such a good few days.

Anyway remember the Tories don’t have to have a general election until December 2024, though, thanks to the Fixed-term Parliaments Act (2011), which was passed by the coalition government of Tories and, um, Lib Dems.  In which Ed Davey served for three years.

Hmm.

9.43am 

James Cleverly (remember him?) returns to the Cabinet and is appointed Home Secretary. The party attempts to appear trendy by experimenting with emojis:

This appointment is probably because Tory strategists wanted him in a domestic role to help the party’s chances in the next election; as Surprising Political Pundit Nadine Dorries told us, of all fucking people, the race is now on to lead the opposition.

But hey, this is not likely to lead to any more changes -

10.03am

FORMER PRIME MINISTER, BREXIT-TRIGGERER AND PIG-FUCKER DAVID CAMERON BECOMES FOREIGN SECRETARY

!!!!!!!!!!!!

And look! Another emoji! They're so hip!

(Side note... the balls on this one are astounding, actually. The UK political system has been in chaos ever since Cameron, and he was the first domino. This is not a well-loved former hero that will be greeted warmly by the unwashed masses.)

Awkward though, since just last month Sunak claimed that we’d lived through “30 years of a political system that incentivizes the easy decision, not the right one.”  It would be a terrible shame if a journalist was to ask David Cameron whether he agreed with the Prime Minister on that, given that Cameron’s job is to support the Prime Minister now.

Especially since Cameron took to Twitter last month to explicitly criticise Sunak for breaking the Tory promise to deliver High Speed 2.

(Cameron tweeted this criticism last month.  Labour MP Angela Rayner however promptly retweets it now lol suck a dick Dave, but try a human one this time)

Also, fun fact, Cameron has just come out of a large-scale lobbying and corruption scandal. Given the state of Sunak, though, that's actually probably what got him the job.

BUT!!! Here's an even funner fact: the man is not an MP. He left politics after he accidentally triggered Brexit and then it came out he'd once face fucked a dead pig's head while it was held on the lap of another Tory; he's been living it up in the lucrative world of after-dinner speaking, as these people do.

So can you do that?? Can you hold a Cabinet position if no one at all has voted for you??

Yes, turns out.

Don't be alarmed by that, though:

But, convention holds that anyone who becomes a Cabinet member while not being an MP needs to be a Peer - that way, if they do bad and naughty things, they can't be held accountable by the House of Commons but they can be held accountable by the House of Lords. Only problem is, Hameron is not a lord...

10.13am

The reshuffle, bafflingly, continues. Jeremy Hunt will remain as chancellor.

For the first time since 2010, the top four positions in government – Prime Minister (Sunak), Chancellor of the Exchequer (Hunt), Home Secretary (Cleverly) and Foreign Secretary (Cameron) – are all held by men.

10.18am

Lots of people tweeting about the historic context of Cameron’s appointment.  Here’s my favourite:

10.48am

David Cameron is given a life peerage, so his proper name now is Lord Piggledick.

10.52am

Health secretary Will Quince quits.  He wasn’t planning to stand for re-election anyway though, so this one is probably not a shock. But it's important that no one else resi-

11.04am

Decarbonisation minister Jesse Norman resigns.

...

...

...

Time for a

✨Conspiracy Theory✨

Between Quince and Norman – as well as Neil O’Brien and Nick Gibb – we’re seeing several mid-ranking ministers resign, despite being generally regarded as fairly competent.

It’s possible they were fired in private, and they’re publicly resigning to save face.  But here’s another theory.

MPs aren’t allowed to seek commercial employment for six months after resigning from the government.

So hypothetically, if you were going to lose your seat in a general election, you’d want to have resigned six months earlier so you can still get a job.

If that’s what these guys are doing, it suggests we’re on track for a May 2024 election...?

11.05am

11.12am

Remember Cameron's financial scandal? Quick background here: David Cameron was specifically vice-chair of a £1bn China-UK investment fund.

So let’s see what throwback former leader Iain Duncan Smith thinks of Cameron’s return:

“I am astonished at this appointment. It seems to send a signal to China that we are pursuing business with them at all costs and any costs. Those who have been sanctioned now feel more abandoned than at any time. Those facing genocide and persecution will feel more abandoned than at any time.”

I cannot believe I am about to say this.

But.

I agree with Iain Duncan Smith *spits on floor*

11.50am

Former Tory deputy prime minister Lord Heseltine is asked to sum up the return of Cameron, and says it’s the “clearest signal that the sort of right wing lurch that we’ve seen and the anti-European movement that we’ve seen has been put to bed, and that will get a message across to people”.

12.13pm

A Tory MP is worried that Cameron’s return will turn back the clock on Brexit and Johnson’s election.

“It is very alarming. I am predicting a softening on small boats, a softening on legal migration. I would not be surprised if the ban on conversion therapy returns.”

... Don’t threaten me with a good time.

Anyway, let’s see how the public actually sees Cameron compared with other PMs!

Yeah, not sure people will mind if Cameron’s not Boris Johnson.

12.43pm

ITV political editor Robert Peston walks past a minister of state.  The minister’s on the phone, but takes a moment to heatedly shout at Peston, “The PM just sacked me!”

I guess some days are easier than others as a journalist

12.47pm

Therese Coffey resigns as environment secretary!!!!

*choirs of heavenly angels sing*

You'll remember her of course, Tumblrs - she was one of the thugs manhandling people into the 'right' voting lobbies to force their vote on the day of Liz Truss' fracking law. Rumour has it she still has the Whip handle in her ass.

A lot of people seem to be resigning today! But don't be fooled. In almost every case, it’ll be because they were told to resign.  They’ve been sacked, but they resign to save face. A last mercy from their benevolent leader.

My guess: Tessie here is terrible at media skills, so – get rid of her before she hurts general election chances. This, too, is a pattern.

12.52pm

Rachel Maclean sacked as Housing Minister! Fun fact, numbers fans: it took Doctor Who 33 years to make it to eight Doctors, but since the 2019 election, the Tories managed eight Housing Ministers in just under 4 years

trololol

1.15pm

Jeremy Quin quits as Minister for the Cabinet Office.

1.37pm

Times Political Editor Steven Swinford reports that No 10 is struggling to find a new housing minister (owing to rumours the job is cursed). Several people have turned it down, including Jeremy Quin. It is incredible to me that they didn't line someone up before sacking the last guy.

Kemi Badenoch and Michael Gove are apparently unhappy that Rachel Maclean was removed from the role. I for one do not care about the opinions of Kemi Badenoch or Michael Gove.

2.04pm

Health Secretary Steve Barclay becomes Environment Secretary.  This is effectively a demotion for him. It is our 5th Environment Secretary in four years. Chasing that Housing Minister record! It took 19 years for Doctor Who to have five Doctors

2.15pm

Richard Holden appointed new Conservative Party chairman.

A 2019-intake Tory MP, he led the charge against Sir Keir Starmer over Beergate, which did damage Starmer a bit (albeit not much, given that it turned out Starmer had complied with lockdown regs, and the accusation was nakedly to try and distract from Partygate).  So this appointment looks like more strategy to win the next election - someone not known enough to be hated, with what passes in the modern Tory party for a proven track record.

This could be a sign that the Tories intend to at least try to shore up the Red Wall votes? As unlikely as the Tories are to keep those seats.

That said, Holden’s seat disappears in a boundary change next election, sooooo … we'll see what they do there.

2.24pm

Victoria Atkins appointed Health Secretary, replacing Steve Barclay who’s moved to Environment Secretary. She's a relative unknown but also considered actually competent. Massive middle finger to Steve Barclay

2.37pm

Laura Trott (formerly in pensions) promoted to Chief Secretary to the Treasury.

2.42pm

Science minister George Freeman resigns.

3.18pm

YouGov conducts a snap poll: is the appointment of David Cameron as Foreign Secretary a good decision or a bad decision?

Good decision: 24%

Bad decision: 38%

Don't know: 38%

So that's going well

3.24pm

Greg Hands is made a business minister after losing the Tory chairman role.

John Glen moves from chief secretary to the Treasury to become the Minister for the Cabinet Office and Paymaster General.

3.39pm

With Cameron being a Lord now, he’ll be based in the House of Lords rather than the Commons.  The most recent Cabinet Minister to be based in the Lords was former Brexit minister Lord Frost, who did weigh in on the matter:

“[T]hough I was not running a whole Department too. I don’t think it works well to have a lead Cabinet Minister answering questions and defending their Department solely in the Lords. The Lords is not a fully party political environment - nor should it be - and voters are owed proper political scrutiny. In our system, that can only happen in the Commons.”

I cannot believe I am about to say this.

But.

I agree with Lord Frost *spits on floor*

The SNP had already called this out, with MP Stephen Flynn claiming, “The UK is not a serious country.”

4.21pm

Conservative MP Lee Rowley appointed the 16th housing minister in the past 13 years. Even counting David Tennant twice, that's more than all the Doctors Who we've ever had, and that took almost 60 years.

5.16pm

Sky News’s Tamara Cohen reports that Sunak sacked Braverman by phone this morning!  Downing Street says there won’t be any exchange of letters between them - this is almost unheard of. Politics runs on paper trails! Everything happens through formal letters! By phone!

It means we’re denied insight into their differences.  But Cohen reckons we’re likely to hear from Braverman on Wednesday, as the Supreme Court rules on the Rwanda scheme.

6.03pm

Tory MP Andrea Jenkyns, former Education Minister, submits no-confidence letter in Rishi Sunak.

It's almost like, in the absence of Dorries, she's decided that someone needs to step up and have a tantrum and that someone might as well be her. It is, actually, an extremely funny letter, as these letters go. Normally they're written with a sort of furious earnestness wrapped in formal language. I presume that Andrea Jenkyns MP, former Education Minister, was aiming for something similar, and the first paragraph manages it. But by the end you sort of start to wonder if this was supposed to be a letter she wrote with her therapist to get her feelings out:

My favourite line, when pulled in isolation, is "Yes Boris Johnson, the man who won the Conservative Party a massive majority, was unforgivable enough."

Yeah, Andrea babes. You're bang on there.

6.05pm

Esther McVey is appointed as Cabinet Office minister.  Not a full cabinet member, but she will attend cabinet meetings.

This is notable: unlike a lot of today’s appointments, she’s on the right of the party.  Her role will be to represent the government on TV and radio as much as possible, talking about gender/culture/British colonial history issues (i.e. she’s anti-woke and a screaming bigot).

In other words, with Braverman gone, McVey is an offering for the populist right of the party to try to appease them.

6.15pm

Sunak tweets about the new cabinet, claiming they’ll make “the right decisions for our great country, not the easy ones.”  So it looks like that’s the new slogan, and we're pressing on with austerity

6.27pm

Tim Loughton, a Tory MP on the “One Nation” wing (i.e the David Cameron side) responds to Andrea Jenkyns’s letter of no-confidence by tweeting:

“Where can we submit a letter of no confidence in the Pantomime Dame?”

(It’s Andrea he’s publicly referring to as a pantomime dame there. A lil joke from the Tories for you)

6.31pm

Paul Scully sacked as minister for London. Didn't know that one was a position.

9.43pm

Sunak says that only a two-state solution will allow a new future for Israel/Palestine.  This is, um, not what the Prime Minister of Israel wants.  Who knows whether the Prime Minister of Israel will survive this crisis anyway – but these are big words from Sunak.  Cameron’s influence? Maybe? Interesting either way

10.03pm

And then - PLOT TWIST!!!

According to ITV political editor Robert Peston, a senior government source reveals that Cameron was approached on TUESDAY. 

Which means plans were underway to get rid of Braverman not only before the far-right violence on Saturday, but before her anti-police article on Wednesday.  It seems she lost her job not because of what she said about police after all; but because she claimed homelessness was a lifestyle choice.

Well well.

11.05pm

And the day finishes with Andrea Leadsom back in government (as Under Secretary of State for Health and Social Care) which nobody saw coming!  Pretty demeaning to the other 300 Tory MPs who could have been given this.

The final response from numerous Tories: they are feeling jilted and insulted because David Cameron being brought back when he's NOT EVEN AN MP, RISHI suggests that they themselves are not good enough to be in government.

No one tell them

#politik #clownfall: endgame

[fuckyeah-bears]

not that i truly care what rando losers on tumblr dot com think about me but i did just get an obnoxious as fuck message telling me about how internet activism and sharing things online isn't actually activism, trying to shame me into not posting as much or "torturing myself" by watching and sharing pictures and videos of what's going on in gaza. and it pissed me off enough to say this:

One, Palestinians have asked people to share and boost their content. That is a direct fucking ask from people in Gaza and Palestinians around the world. I will keep watching and sharing these photos and videos because it is what we have been asked to do by the people who are themselves experiencing genocide. Yes, it is depressing, yes it emotionally and mentally fucks me up. 100%. But i will keep doing it.

Two, literally none of you have ANY fucking idea what i am doing in real life to fight for Palestinian liberation. I don't need anyone on tumblr dot com's validation or approval and i'm certainly not stupid enough to dox myself online when every zionist shitbag, the police, and every employer out there is already trying to do that. but believe me when i say i have dropped pretty much everything else in my life to fight as hard as i fucking can to stop this genocide and work towards the Palestinian liberation.

Three, everyone needs to be doing shit in real life to fight to end the genocides going on right now. Only posting online does not count as activism, true. So take your conversations offline as well. Talk to people you know about Palestine, Sudan, and Congo. Read books and learn the histories. Write to and/or call your elected officials and government leaders and even the fucking bureaucrats. Join local solidarity and action groups working towards Palestinian liberation: Dissenters; DSA; JVP; SJP; AMP; IfNotNow are all US based groups that have local state chapters (idk too many groups outside of the US, sorry international friends). Participate in BDS, personally boycotting brands yourself, demanding your schools, workplaces, organizations, institutions, and governments divest from Israel. Attend rallies and protests and disruptions and vigils. Write to your local, state, and larger newspapers and demand they cover this genocide without bias, call them out for their shitty zionist reporting; write op-eds and letters to the editors. Sign up for webinars. If you can't leave the house or attend in-person events, you can make signs and banners for people and groups who can go. Start or join a campaign to pass a ceasefire resolution in your town/city; testify at town/city council or public comment about it & write to your local elected leaders. Donate to Palestinian and and relief orgs and charities if you can. And yeah, keep fucking sharing and uplifting and boosting Palestinian posts and voices online. The media is trying to repress the fuck out of them, so you we need to do our part to make sure their voices are seen and heard as widely and as loudly as possible.

And four, don't be a pretentious dick to strangers on the internet. You don't know shit about what people are doing in their real lives. This is just common fucking courtesy

Free Palestine 🇵🇸

#free palestine 🇵🇸 #free palestine #palestine #free gaza #gaza #gaza genocide #eyes on sudan #congo genocide #free congo #free sudan #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #🇵🇸

[tinystepsforward]

i've still been keeping tabs on what's happening at automattic. a couple of things i've observed:

toni schneider (who is a man btw), the interim ceo, has been quite open with staff in ways that mean they generally seem relieved to have him leading the company for now. i've heard people speak optimistically about him from all parts of the spectrum (by which i mean: staff who are trans tumblr users right through to staff who are "anti-woke" or whatever and were absolutely intolerable to work with as a trans person), which seems like... a good sign? maybe.

this relative transparency includes things like weekly updates from an executive level, as well as openly saying that he did have to directly speak to matt and encourage him to, you know, stop posting.

matt is back to his usual milquetoast blogging, and replied to someone on mastodon about the AI issue saying he'd comment on it when he's back in may, so whatever toni said to him seems to have worked for him keeping out of it for now.

people have no idea what it's gonna look like when matt's back.

the best case scenario is that schneider manages to create a significant enough boost in morale and productivity that "it'd be nice if we just kept him" becomes a sentiment that isn't held just by the rank and file. i don't know how likely that is, but there's a sense of cautious hope and of making the most of this reprieve from matt's increasingly erratic decisions no matter what.

the tumblr staff statement was approved by schneider and hr, so i am also hopeful they won't face repercussions. what they said might seem pretty mild from the outside, or carefully worded, but it's pretty clear to me and to most people who've worked at companies like this that it's a pretty bold one.

i'll quote a friend:

keep reminding the more histrionic elements out there that: 1. there really are trans people, INCLUDING TRANS WOMEN, in the fight here. 2. we don't have nearly the power they seem to think we do. 3. we're fighting anyway. was the statement we wrote enough? fuck no. does it fix everything? fuck no. but we literally called out the CEO, and got the greenlight for it from the interim CEO. i don't know where this will end, but that's not nothing.

i'm not sure automattic deserves the immense honor of having this many of its brave, dedicated trans staff put effort into trying to make it better. but it has them, and it would be wise to do its best to keep them. so many of us — even me, even now — believe in the ideals that drew us to the work automattic does, and hope that it can return to them. we will see!

other things i want to say:

the wellbeing of my friends on staff is my priority. i am interested primarily in their safety, and won't pressure them to give me goss. the ways i've spoken publicly are already pretty scary to people who might worry about retaliation against them just for being known to be my friend.

this is a regular personal blog. i'll keep updating if there's shit to update about, but i also don't work at automattic any more (thank fuck, again), have a life, and am not interested in declaring matt my specific nemesis or otherwise acting purely out of spite.

some of youse really deeply do not understand companies, the internet, generative ai, or pretty much anything else i've said. that's okay — big tech in particular is fucked up on purpose bc it benefits those in power to have it be incomprehensible! but maybe it's not a great position from which to get mad at me specifically or at staff for idk not personally assassinating matt.

got tired of blocking transphobes so i've turned anons off. i'll probably flick them back on eventually.

#tony muses #tumblr meta #<- just for my blog's tag search

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 16, Unaccompanied - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language.

Word Count: 977

Previously On...: You felt even worse when Bucky revealed that Carthage had someone weaseled her way onto the Quinjet to join him on the Russia mission.

A/N: It's short, so you'll get two parts today! Second one will post at 5pm, EST. NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony greeted you as you entered his lab. He was surrounded by bits and pieces of various tech, obviously in the middle of some experimentation. “How are you feeling? Obviously good enough to be walking around. I’m glad you’re here, actually– I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I thought Carthage was benched, Tony!” you interrupted, ignoring his greeting. Rhodey had been making a slow, but steady, recovery, but as far as you knew, Tony had not lifted his blanket ban on keeping Jade grounded from further missions. Tony frowned at you. “She is,” he said, giving you a puzzled look.

“Then why the fuck is she on the Quinjet with Bucky on the way to Moscow right this minute?” you asked, accusation clouding your words.

Tony put down the electronic components he’d been holding. “Well, I certainly didn’t approve it. I only just got you to forgive me. You think I want to willingly make you even more pissed?”

“Well, someone did,” you said. Your arms were crossed over your chest and you were pouting like a petulant child. 

“I’ll look into it,” he promised, “but don’t overlook the possibility that she took it upon herself to stow away. Not just to get some alone time with Barnes, but to get herself back on the mission roster, too.”

You hadn’t considered that, but now that you did, you wouldn’t have put it past her at all. “Thanks,” you huffed.

“Why do you even care, though?” he asked. “I thought you two broke up. Can’t believe you still won’t tell me why, by the way.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Because it’s not your business, Boss,” you told him. Truthfully, you wanted to confide in Tony, to tell him what Bucky had done, what he had said, so you could bask in the comfort you knew he would offer you, but you truly believed that, if he knew the full truth, there was a very good chance Tony would actually try to murder Bucky. You might not be prepared to fully forgive him, or be with him again, but you certainly didn’t want him dead. And honestly? The last time the two had gone up against one another, it hadn’t ended so well for Tony, either. You doubted Bucky would purposefully hurt him– he wouldn’t do that to you– but you’d never forgive yourself if Tony got himself injured because of you.

“Pfft,” Tony scoffed. “Not my business? What kind of pseudo-big brother would I be if I didn’t look out for my pseudo-little sister? Besides, you think I don’t already know it has to do with him and Carthage being a little too close?”

“Tony,” you warned. “Just find out how she got on that Quinjet, okay? Please?”

“Finnnnnne,” Tony conceded with a roll of his eyes. “You’re lucky I still feel guilty about that med bay incident.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I really appreciate it.”

“With that out of the way,” he said, sliding his rolling stool over to you, “I need a favor.”

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Tony to ask for a favor in your moment of turmoil. “Go on,” you urged him.

“The annual shareholder gala is on Saturday,” he told you. You nodded, knowing that the event was upcoming. You’d been planning on being away on the mission, so you hadn’t given it much thought. “Big topic of conversation’s going to be your C-PAS. I want you to be there to talk it up, get the investors excited about it so they’ll open their wallets.”

“Ugh, Tony,” you groaned, “you know I fucking hate schmoozing. Can’t you do it? You’re so much better at bullshitting rich people than I am! Besides, I’m sick. What if I throw up on everyone important? Is that really a risk you’re willing to take? Think of the optics.”

Tony rolled his eyes at you. “We’ll load you up with anti nausea meds if we have to,” he reassured you, “so you’ll be fine for a couple of hours. Come on, Pocket. You’re my Chief Technical Officer. This program is your baby. No one is going to sell it as passionately as you. You know that. Don’t you want to show your hard work off?”

You considered it for a moment before dropping your arms and let out a groan. “Fiiiine,” you conceded. “But you’re really gonna owe me for this one, Stark.”

“I’ll buy you a pony,” he said with a smile.

“Oh my God, really?” you squealed. You knew he didn’t mean it, but you sure as shit were going to play into it.

“No,” Tony said, looking at you like you were a complete idiot. “Where the hell would we keep it?”

“I dunno.” Your expression turned into a sour pout. “You could buy a farm Upstate or something.”

“I suppose we could raise some sheep there,” he said thoughtfully.

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “That takes me back.”

Tony grinned at you. “So, all seriousness, what do you want in exchange for a few hours of your time on Saturday?”

“Buy me a new dress,” you said. “And shoes.”

“That’s it?” he asked, sounding somewhat disappointed, as though he’d expected you to ask for a yacht or some such thing. Maybe you did need to up your asking game.

“Okay, how’s this– new dress, shoes, handbag and jewelry, PLUS,” you added with a pointed look, “official write ups in Carthage’s file listing her as unfit to continue beyond her probationary period for recklessness and conduct unbecoming an Avenger. Enough to guarantee no amount of votes will allow her to stay.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder. “My dear Pocket,” he said, smirk growing wider, “here I was hoping you were going to ask me for something difficult. It would be my pleasure.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[aitadjcrazytimes]

It's been a good run

But it's time to bring this to a close!

The saga is over, C, T and I are all together. T and I are in the swing of it, C approves as much as it is possible for him to approve of anything, everyone knows about the blog and is chill.

C is back at his rightful place of walking his sister down the aisle.

I'm getting everything I want, and we're all free to make each other miserable until the day we die.

I'm not going to be updating this blog anymore! Nobody else involved with the situation will be submitting any more AITA posts either, because they are either not on tumblr or agreed it would be annoying.

I will say that there is some stuff on here that I've alluded to that isn't necessarily 100% in the spirit of things, so I've included some stuff below the cut for the folks who have caught onto that. I would not suggest reading it if you like how all of this played out and want to keep it that way. I know that's incredibly vague, but I'm not sure how to phrase it without making it weird?

Thank you all for listening and talking to me over the past few days! That's where I'm leaving it!

...

...

...

...Is everyone who wants to keep believing in the disaster polycule gone? Yes? OK!

So, this was fake. I made up the whole thing. TK and C and T and everyone else are fictional characters. Did I lie? Yes. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

Q: All of it? Even the og AITA post? The followup AITA post? The screenshots?

A: All of it.

Q: Wh... Why did you do this...?

A: Well, first this all started as a Red vs Blue fanfic for the ship Chexer (Church/Tex/Tucker)-

It started as a fanfic for Chexer. However, I was already working on a different fanfic for RVB that was totalling about 15k words at this point (+ at least 90k to go), and I knew I would never have the time or energy to write this one. I thought: yknow. this would be really funny as an aita post.

Q: It was a fanfic of a Halo fanfic series.

A: Yep!

So, I submitted Tucker's perspective. I did not expect for it to get more than maybe 100 notes at most. I totally thought someone would call it out right away.

The funny part is, if I'd dedicated all this energy to a fic instead of this blog, I'd probably have about 15-20 thousand words of fic already, but whatever, can't ruin my personal day!

Also, I wanted to see how many people would figure it out/how long it would take for it to become too obvious that this was a fandom thing. I was dropping names and RvB lore since the beginning. A few people did figure it out, and I DMed them in private to let them know.

Q: But why make the blog then?

A: Because I love to lie and be a nuisance to the general populace! <3

It was always my intent to wait until Carolina's perspective got posted (i am honestly still shocked i got away with "Carey/Georgia/West Virginia/Alabama/Miss Louisiana 1988"), let it simmer for about a day, then come clean. Which is what I'm doing now!

The reason I'm coming clean now instead of dragging it out is because I don't want anyone to feel stupid or like they got duped. You're not stupid! You were a part of this story! This was, as one anon said, a creative writing project. It was a collaboration! Thank you so much for helping me!

That said, I'm sorry to anyone that finds this disappointing! I had a blast doing this, but I will not be doing it again. I have gotten my fill. I have had my taste of being an influencer, and now I can go on with my life without ever feeling like I need to start a youtube channel.

Q: How did you keep up with a consistent timeline?

A: I didn't, especially at first. But in my time as a liar who lies about things, I have found that usually people are willing to believe you when you say "yeah, i lied about that".

Q: Wait, what about the thing with your kid?

A: Yeah, I fucked up on this one. In the other fic I was/am writing, Tucker was around 33. So, when I was saying what Junior's age was, I subtracted it from 33 and got 18. It wasn't until I was showing my partner the blog and they said "Wait, he had his kid at 13??????" that I realized I had fucked up. Oops!

Q: Was it really ALL fake?

A: For the most part. I will say that I did actually drop chocolate cake all over my tits that one time and had to shower by myself like a fucking loser. That one was true. I did also get my nails done for the first time ever, which did actually affect my typing. And I am in a band (but so is Tucker, canonically)! There are a few other things as well, but I don't want to list all of them.

Q: DID you ever read homestuck?

A: Nope. And I never will.

Even the title, though I will say that the title I came up with was "Leonard "Alpha Bitch" Church's Decidedly Not Lo-Fi Beats to Get Nasty and Get Clean To: The Movie"

Q: So there was never a combination sex/bathtime playlist?

A: Maybe! But perhaps more accurately: the combination sex/bathtime playlist was inside of you all along. You can make it. There are only three songs on there that are canon to the lore of this blog. Those are No Children by The Mountain Goats, Take It Out On Me by Thousand Foot Krutch, and one unknown song from the album Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV by Coheed and Cambria (Yep, the call was coming from inside the house, I gave Church my music taste). I had intended this to be Wake Up, but it's out of my hands now. The rest is yours to fill in.

Q: What's your main blog, so I can follow you?

A: Hi, this is aitadjcrazytimes. You're not getting that.

Q: Your AO3 handle?

A: Nope, not that either.

You will never find me. And that's the way I want it. You will see me in every blog. Every new follower. Every stranger you meet on the street. You will look into your discord kitten's eyes, and you will absently wonder if he was the one behind aitadjcrazytimes. And you will never know for certain.

Q: But-

A: Let me live on in your memory. The only person who knows both who I am and the fact that I did this is my partner, who is not into RvB or commonly on tumblr. I am not a RvB blog. I am not a writing blog. I am a nobody on the fringes of tumblr society who's been here long enough to know how to remain in the shadows.

And, even if you do manage to find me, against all odds:

No one will ever believe you.

I am closing my askbox. I am also closing my messages. If you have anything to say to Tucker or Me (tumblr user aitadjcrazytimes), you are welcome to do so in the replies or reblogs, but you will not be receiving an answer. I'll keep this blog up for anyone that wants to go through after the fact and do a deep dive or what have you.

Thanks to everyone who made this into the wild ride it was! Live long and get fucked or whatever! Xoxo <3

#final post #if you don't say goodbye then aitadjcrazytimes isnt really gone #they're just not here right now #<-so that was a fucking lie -tk from the future

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 16

Not the Love Actually India footage! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40600110/chapters/101720886 by @inspiteallthedanger is a favorite I should revisit after this painful day.

“Yes, what Were we doing?” Literally, why did you start this conversation, Paul? What did you think John and George were going to do? Just let you have your little casual chat about the footage? Come on, you know them better than that. “In your room?” “Yeah, right. I remember, yeah.” You set yourself up for this, babe. 

I would LOVE to know the real context for John’s mic-job. Because yes, that is real. He really did do that while staring like That at Paul. But it wasn’t after he said, “I don’t regret anything. Ever.” What was the real moment where John decided that was his move? And did Paul really just keep talking right over all of that? Beatles tumblr deserves access to all that footage just for all the obsessing we do. 

It is noteworthy, certainly, that we know for a fact that a good chunk of John’s India footage is just Paul, but in how much of that footage, I wonder, is Paul also focused on John?

We all know Paul approves, but why did we have to use valuable time to show monkey sex? I did not need to see that. 

“I have all the tapes, too.” Those laughs. You guys aren’t as sneaky as you think you are. Also, @ Lennon estate you won't release the tapes. Chickens.

George is just SO sick of their shit. “Because that was the purpose of going there was to try and find who yourself is.” AKA ‘I took your dumb asses on this beautiful spiritual retreat and you had to make it about your stupid psychosexual obsession just like you do with everything else.’ “And if you were really yourself, you wouldn’t be any of who we are now.” AKA ‘if you two would stop fucking hiding, we – me and Ringo too, you’ve dragged us down with you – wouldn’t be in this hellish mess.’ And here’s the thing. He’s pissed off. And rightly so. But he’s still going along with their veils and secrecy. A callback to his strumming over Paul ranting at him. He’ll still protect them even when he fundamentally disagrees. George is such a beautiful person and so underrated by people like me.

 Paul’s appreciative little look as John finally ends the difficult conversation. 

"Bye, Bye Love” is DEFINITELY *meaningful*

John calling Two of Us “Four of Us” is so sweet. Like saying to George and Ringo, “You are important too. Just because we don’t have weird thoughts about your physical adjacency to Elvis Presley, doesn't mean we don’t love you.” 

I think John’s willingness to be taught is also an underrated leadership quality of his. All the old men obsessed with Leader Lennon won’t acknowledge it, but that’s what it is. It’s humility and a recognition of other’s strength and it’s leadership.

Literally everyone else: Just don’t look and it’ll go away. John: what? Don’t look at Paul? I don’t know how to do that.

George and Ringo honestly had the patience of saints to just sit there and play through Two of Us eight million times so John and Paul could do their little accents and silly voices.

And then John can also do the traditional leadership, too. “Start again, ey. Shh, don’t talk when he’s playing there, gang.” And really, he’s the best of the four for that job by far.But it’s far from acerbic or cutting. Get Back John is certainly almost undiluted Lovely John. 

Quick reminder to anyone who may have forgotten: those boots George is wearing are literally Paul’s hand-me-downs. Earlier on the nagra reels, George was describing a kind of boots he’d like a pair of and Paul was like “I’ve got some you could have.”  Permanent baby brother status. 

“That’s a good idea, John.” “Yeah, well I’m full of ideas like that, I’m famous for ‘em. Literary Beatle, you know.” Puhlease. I know fics with more realistic dialogue.

“The things that’ve worked out best for us haven’t really been planned any more than this has, it’s just. You know, you just go into something and it just does it itself.” Yeah, George. Because of Brian. 

Paul really wants to do a big Thing at the end, because he loves performing, yeah. But what’s this about John and Yoko’s black bag? Does he think that performing together will remind John that being a Beatle with Paul is what he loves? Or does he just want closure before everything falls apart?

He really does hate to see him upset, doesn’t he. Like, I think he does a lot of things purposely to get a reaction out of Paul. And sometimes he needs to see him hurt to know he even cares. But from the way he’s watching Paul chewing his nails and rocking, you’d think Paul’s worries affected John physically. And then he breaks into “I Lost My Little Girl” almost as a sort of knee-jerk comfort instinct.  

These two shots are comedic gold.

My cabaret boys again. Heck, maybe I’ll write it just for myself. Honestly though I love that the two Beatles who loved performing and who would’ve been performers in any life (would’ve been performing circus elephants if they’d been reincarnated as animals) got to continue doing it into their eighties. One of the few happinesses in the end of the Beatles.

Get Back really is such a great character study, though. George hands John a drink. John takes it without looking at George, let alone the drink, and gulps. George hands Paul a drink. Paul smiles at him, then proceeds to sniff it and swirl it and inspect it like it might be poison before he gives it a taste. 

John chewing the mic. I hope you didn’t do That to Paul’s dick in India. What if that’s all that happened?

Bitching and gossiping: top requirements in the job description for John Lennon’s Codependent Special Person.

In these last few minutes of the day, I’m relating more and more to George. I’m sick of John and Paul and all their drama and stupidity. John suggests they write another verse of Let it Be together, and Paul looks frankly horrified at the idea.

So John lays his head in Yoko’s lap, reminding me painfully of that “ . . . except you can go to bed with it and it can pet your head without . . .” quote.

And then a few minutes later, Paul’s spiraling again and asks to go home to which John responds with a tease. “I’m just tryna get the group working, you know,” and “You’re gonna have to be strict, Paul.” And it’s just dizzying and frustrating at this point. Where are they possibly going to go at this rate?

#sorry that this one was late #And probably less coherent or insightful #Two jobs and a teething baby and a depressed husband today so it is what it is #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | three

🐴Chapter summary: You win some and you lose some— isn’t that how the saying goes? But when you keep messing up, how long does it take for your sister to get enough of your fuck ups? 🐴Chapter title: Sometimes 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: some sexual tension and angst! A storm is brewing ⛈️ + a horse in pain (colic), also Jessi is a real pain in the ass in this chapter, sorry. 🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!) 🐴Word count: 11.8k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Sometimes” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note(1): I’m not a vet okay– so some of the descriptions regarding veterinary treatment of horses might not be 100% spot on, lol. 

Also, I know that you all want MC and Jimin to get together, and it is coming soon— I promise! 🫶 The next chapter is actually one of my favorites 🥰

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“Sometimes at the edge of sight Something moves which isn't there You turn to look but it's gone, it's gone Was it ever really there Yet it touches you Softly touches you And then it begins again” -  ‘Sometimes’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Perplexed, you question why Jessi deemed it a brilliant idea for you to single-handedly corral the sheep into the pen. You move at a measured trot, employing subtle cues with your legs on Marshmallow to orchestrate the intricate dance required to guide the sheep to their destination.

Eager to excel and make a lasting impression, you're determined to master the task your sister entrusted you with. The desire to earn Jessi's approval fuels your determination, pushing you to strive for excellence in her eyes.

With a subtle click of your tongue, you skillfully guide the reins, prompting Marshmallow to gracefully trot to the right and deftly corral a stray sheep back into the fold.

A sense of surprise washes over you as you realize just how adept you are at this task. It feels surprisingly easy, and a newfound energy surges within, allowing you to even whistle a tune as the ranch comes into view on the horizon. The girls await your successful return at the shed, a testament to your growing confidence. Almost there.

Grinning ear to ear, you reach the gate of the pen and energetically wave to Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin, your sister nowhere to be seen.

Approaching the gate, you deftly lean over Marshmallow, swing it open, and expertly turn the horse around. With determination, you guide the sheep into the pen, where the girls await, poised for the upcoming shearing.

“You did such a nice job!” Soo-ah's voice echoes with admiration, her wide smile and doe-like eyes expressing genuine appreciation. You nod in gratitude, turning Marshmallow toward the barn to return him to the field, a sense of accomplishment swelling within you.

Guiding Marshmallow into the barn with deliberate ease, you orchestrate a gradual slowdown. With a practiced motion, you swing your leg over the saddle and dismount, grounding yourself with a gentle touch on the barn floor. “Such a good boy,” you murmur affectionately, your hand caressing Marshmallow's neck, eliciting a delighted response from the appreciative horse.

Effortlessly unhooking the girdle from the saddle, you carefully lift it off Marshmallow's back and return it to its designated spot on the saddle hook in the corner. He stands patiently, awaiting your return to relieve him of his bridle. A soft click of your tongue signals him to follow as you lead him gracefully to a paddock.

As you swing the gate open for Marshmallow, you marvel at the grace with which he bounds into the paddock, joining the rhythmic dance of the other horses. A peculiar warmth envelops your heart, a sense of fulfillment washing over you. The silent camaraderie among these majestic creatures stirs a deep nostalgia, making you keenly aware of how much you've yearned for the company of horses.

With a heart brimming with affection, you stride purposefully back to the shed where the girls await assistance in shearing the sheep. The prospect of shearing, an uncharted territory for you, looms uncertainly. Doubts flicker like fleeting shadows—will you navigate the shearing process with finesse, or fumble in your attempt? The anticipation lingers, but optimism threads through your thoughts as you hope for a seamless endeavor.

The girls deftly corral sheep, ushering them one by one into the bustling shearing shed. Jessi, now a commanding presence, orchestrates the operation with vocal precision, her directives ringing out amid the flurry of wooly activity.

“Go grab a sheep!” Jessi commands, her voice cutting through the wooly chaos. You heed her directive, but the task is easier said than done. The sheep evade your advances, darting away like fleeting shadows, leaving you in a comical dance of pursuit.

Balancing on the delicate line between assertiveness and consideration, you tread lightly with the sheep. Jessi's voice echoes in your mind, emphasizing the significance of stress-free herding. You avoid being too imposing, a mindful dance to ensure the flock remains undisturbed by your presence. Struggling to find the right pace, you navigate the delicate task of herding without causing distress. Yet, your caution results in a slow, deliberate progress that doesn't align with Jessi's brisk expectations.

“What's the hold up?” echoes your sister's impatient voice from within the shed, prompting an audible sigh of frustration to escape your lips.

“They run away as soon as I approach! I can't catch a single fucking one…” you lament with a deflated sigh, watching Ha-rin effortlessly wrangle a sheep into the shed for Jessi to shear. The task seems so effortless for her, and you can't help but feel a sense of frustration settling in.

“You've got to assert yourself without stressing them out!” Jessi's instructions echo from the shed. Easier said than done, you think to yourself. 

Why can't she take charge of the herding, leaving you to shear the sheep? After all, how hard can that be? You've handled clippers while cutting hair before!

“Can’t we switch places?” You groan audibly, surrendering and entering the shed. Inside, you find a visibly sweaty Jessi and Soo-ah hard at work shearing sheep. They sport tank tops, drenched in sweat, and you glance at your hoodie, realizing it's time to shed that too. Without second thoughts, you peel it off.

Jessi looks up, setting down the clippers after finishing with one sheep. As it walks off into another pen, she questions, “Do you really want to shear the sheep?”

“Yeah,” you affirm, standing in your tank top, determined to dive into the task at hand. After all, how challenging could it really be?

Jessi chuckles, clearly amused by your determination. She powers down the clippers and stretches her back, beads of sweat tracing a path from her hairline down her face. She breathes heavily, as if she's just completed a vigorous run.

She explains, wiping her face with a cloth, “Just pull this to start the clippers, and again when you're done with a sheep.” Her smile is encouraging as she heads outside into the brisk, hot sun to fetch sheep for you.

Jessi hands you a squirming sheep, and its resistance is evident as you grapple to steady it in your arms for shearing. The sound of Jessi's laughter echoes through the shed as you wrestle with the stubborn creature. You grasp the clippers, initiating their hum, and lower them toward the sheep's wool. Yet, the distressed animal resists, and your attempts to shear off even a single piece of wool are thwarted as it breaks free, darting around the shed in a state of panic.

Laughter erupts in the shed, a symphony of joy, and Jessi joins in with such enthusiasm that she clutches her stomach. Tears, mingled with sweat, streak down her face.

“You have to hold it down, gently though,” Soo-ah instructs, her hands expertly guiding the clippers through the wool of her own sheep. The ease with which she maneuvers the tool makes you realize that she's mastered the art, turning the seemingly complicated task into a graceful dance with the clippers. You watch, determined to learn, as she transforms the shearing process into a captivating display of skill.

“Okay,” you affirm, a newfound determination burning in your eyes as you prepare to make another attempt.

Jessi deftly catches the elusive sheep that had evaded you earlier, guiding it back to the pen with a gentle touch. She shares insights about the importance of letting the sheep de-stress before attempting to shear, imparting her seasoned knowledge in a blend of expertise and empathy.

Jessi strides out to fetch another sheep, its wooly resistance evident in the struggle against her hold. Passing the lively bundle of wool to you, she entrusts you with the task. Cradling the spirited creature in your arms, you activate the clippers, their hum filling the air as you carefully guide them over the sheep's body, determined to conquer the challenge of shearing.

The sheep surprisingly cooperates, holding still as you work the clippers through its wool. Just as you start feeling victorious, Jessi reenters the shed, her expert eye catching a potential mishap. 

“Not that close to the skin, or you’re gonna cut it,” she advises, and a frown creases your face. Examining your progress, you notice the sheep's skin perilously close to being nicked. Quickly shutting off the clippers, you release the half-sheared sheep, which makes a hasty escape. Fortunately, Soo-ah intercepts and expertly completes the shearing process.

Frustration bubbles within you as you groan, “Fuck. This is hard.” 

The sense of failure looms large – unable to smoothly handle the sheep, struggling with the clippers, you question your competence. What, in this unfamiliar environment, can you actually accomplish?

The stifling air in the cramped shed starts to feel suffocating, prompting an urgent need for a breath of fresh air.

“Did you expect it to be easy?” Soo-ah inquires, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Your head shakes in uncertainty. Perhaps. All you yearn for is to excel, to instill a sense of pride in your sister, to debunk the notion that you're merely an inept city dweller. However, in this moment, that's precisely how you perceive yourself.

“You know what– I'm going to take a breather and catch some fresh air,” you declare to the girls, conceding once more. This situation is not to your liking; you yearn to contribute meaningfully on the ranch. Yet, you can't shake the feeling that you're merely impeding everyone's progress.

The girls offer silent nods as you exit, no further words exchanged. Your head hangs low; pride in your performance is absent. You could have done so much better. You just feel so fucking useless.

Your feet guide you outside, greeted by the blazing sun and its intense heat. Grateful for the comfort of a tank top, you make your way to the paddock where the horses leisurely graze. As you open the gate, a mental note reminds you to turn around and ensure its secure closure this time.

Your steps lead you without a clear destination, winding through the landscape until, unexpectedly, you find yourself atop a hill. From this vantage point, the entire ranch sprawls beneath you, yet you choose to avert your gaze. Instead, you turn to face the captivating expanse of the blue sky meeting the rolling green horizon.

As you exhale, your body gives in to a slight slump, settling onto the soft grass. The weight of perceived failure rests on your shoulders. Despite the rational acknowledgment that shearing sheep for the first time comes with a learning curve, the nagging desire to impress Jessi fuels your frustration. 

Why can't you do better?

It's a question echoing in your mind, a silent plea to yourself to rise above this initial struggle.

As thoughts of obtaining Jessi's signature to sell your share of the ranch swirl in your mind, a surprising realization hits you—you're starting to embrace the charm of this vast, open land. The expansive landscapes, the crisp air, the vibrant green grass under the endless blue sky, and the twinkling stars at night, all things the city never offered. Despite labeling yourself a city girl, you're slowly discovering a newfound connection to the land you used to call home. Could this place, once abandoned, become home again? 

Now, as the landscape of the ranch paints a new picture in your mind, you question whether you could reclaim that sense of home. The uncertainty hovers, a cloud casting shadows on your future. Is this rural life meant for you? While Jessi revels in your recent misadventures, you can envision her sharing a beer or uncorking a bottle of wine with the girls the moment you depart. A smirk tugs at your lips as you ponder her probable preference for beer, and you find yourself smiling at that fact.

A yearning for deeper understanding tugs at your core as you grapple with the realization that you might not know your sister as intimately as one would expect siblings to. The echoes of your departure from this place, a mere kid back then, reverberate through the unspoken words that now hang heavily in the air between you and your sister. 

The scars of the past loom large, raising the daunting question: Can time and memories ever bridge the chasm caused by years of separation and untold pain?

As a sigh escapes your lips, a subtle uneasiness takes root in the pit of your stomach, casting a shadow over your thoughts. The gentle caress of the wind on your face seems to mock your inner turmoil, and a low groan escapes you. Despite the reluctance gnawing at your resolve, the undeniable truth lingers – you must return to the shed and confront the unfinished task that awaits.

Maybe you could do something different instead of shearing or gathering sheep. You don’t really want to do that again anytime soon. Maybe you could collect or sort the wool that the others have sheared?

As you gaze up at the vast expanse of the sky, its hues shifting subtly with the passage of unnoticed time, a realization dawns upon you. It's a silent cue to return to the shed and rejoin the collective effort. As you descend the hill, the silhouette of a black and a blue Ford Ranger gradually comes into view, parked near the paddock. A peculiar flutter dances in your chest, a subtle rhythm that you attempt to dismiss, choosing to bury it deep down.

As you approach the shed, the crescendo of voices builds a symphony of anticipation. Upon pushing open the door, a medley of scents assaults your senses—sweat, the unmistakable essence of hard labor. The scene unfolds before you: men toiling away, clad in tank tops, their bodies glistening with the evidence of their exertion, each droplet of sweat a testament to their dedication.

At first glance, your eyes lock onto Jimin, his tousled blonde locks clinging to his perspiring forehead as he skillfully shears the sheep handed to him by Ara. His muscles ripple beneath the strain, defining every inch of his biceps—a visual feast that leaves you momentarily captivated. Unconsciously, you find yourself licking your lips, entranced by the alluring spectacle of him immersed in his work.

The veins in his arms dance beneath the surface, as if daring to break free from their confines, a mesmerizing display of controlled strength as he maneuvers the clipper with precision around the sheep's body. A surge of something indefinable stirs within you, igniting a cascade of flutters in your chest. Flutters dance in your chest, and the heat intensifies, making it suddenly challenging to draw in a simple breath in the midst of the scorching atmosphere.

The beads of sweat cascade from his hairline, tracing a rivulet down his face, and the droplets rhythmically dance along his arms as he deftly pulls the lever, silencing the clipper. The sheep, now freed, scampers towards the other pen, leaving a tangible sense of accomplishment lingering in the air.

Entranced by his every move, you find yourself in a spellbound reverie. When his gaze locks onto yours, revealing that he's caught you stealing glances, a mischievous and knowing smile curves on his lips. 

In that moment, you sense the impending danger he poses to your heart.

As your gaze shifts to Jungkook, you observe beads of sweat mirroring his brother's exertion, his muscular biceps defined beneath the strain of wielding clippers on the sheep. The strands of his black hair cling to his head, forming enticing curls at the ends.

As your eyes traverse the scene, they settle on Hoseok, his luscious brown hair adhering to his face due to perspiration. In a tank top that clings uncomfortably to his sweaty body, he expertly drags sheep from the pen to join Jessi, Jimin, and Jungkook, who are engrossed in the current shearing process.

Next, your gaze descends upon Yoongi, immersed in the task of sorting the wool. With silver hair that curls at the ends from the heat, he emits a groan of frustration while scrutinizing the wool. Intrigued, you approach him, a curious lilt in your voice as you inquire about his current endeavor, genuinely captivated by his activities.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m classifying the wool,” Yoongi's fingers deftly navigate through the wool, inspecting it for imperfections as he classifies it. When he looks up at you, his gaze locks with yours, and a hint of invitation colors his voice as he asks, “Do you want to help? It's easy,” he adds, extending the offer with a subtle challenge in his eyes.

You smile warmly at him, nodding in agreement. The prospect of contributing in a meaningful way lifts your spirits. Yoongi takes the lead, guiding you through the intricate process of classifying wool. He imparts the nuances of the task, pointing out imperfections that could downgrade the wool's quality. 

Yoongi proves to be excellent company. While he remains mostly silent, the occasional grumble escapes his lips as he meticulously identifies imperfections in the wool. 

Out of the blue, you turn to Yoongi, curiosity lighting up your gaze. “Do you like horses?” His response is a subtle smile accompanied by a nod. In the quiet exchange, you sense that he might be a man of few words, his thoughts and emotions hidden beneath the surface, waiting to be unraveled.

As you glance upward, you find Jimin's eyes fixed on you, an intensity that seems to penetrate your very soul. Uncomfortably exposed, you quickly shift your gaze away, unable to withstand the weight of his stare. It's as if he possesses the ability to see through your every layer, leaving you feeling vulnerable and laid bare.

As you approach the halfway point, beads of sweat dotting everyone's exerted faces, a welcomed break arrives. Ha-rin swoops in as the savior, distributing ice-cold water bottles to the parched crew. You practically guzzle down an entire bottle, the refreshing liquid providing a much-needed respite from the relentless heat.

Cool water trickles down your collarbones, and you sense Jimin’s gaze lingering on the droplets. Sweat continues to bead on his face as he dives back into the task of shearing the remaining sheep.

Jessi reenters the shed, her sudden return catching you off guard. You didn’t even know she left. “What the hell is this?” Her eyes narrow at the sheep tags, a visible frown creasing her face—oh, she’s not happy.

Your fingers pause their work on the wool as you look up, meeting Jessi's intense gaze. The tension in the air becomes palpable, and you can't help but feel a knot forming in your stomach. “What’s wrong?” 

“These are the wrong sheep,” Silence descends like a heavy shroud as Jessi's words cut through the air, freezing every motion in the shed. Her revelation hangs in the space between the hum of the clippers and the suspended breaths of everyone present. Your hands, once deftly working with the wool, now hover in limbo, caught in the gravity of her words. All eyes converge on you, and the weight of your mistake settles like an anchor in the pit of your stomach. Unable to face the accusing gazes, you avert your eyes, well aware that you fucked up big time.

Your sister marches towards you at the wool pressing station, her voice cuts through the air like a whip, each word laced with frustration. “You gathered the wrong sheep!” 

Her accusation lands on you like a blow, and you instinctively shrink under the weight of her anger. Hovering over you, she delivers her disappointment with venom, making your body tense in response. The air thickens as she paints the picture of the setback you've caused, and the realization of your mistake casts a shadow over the shed. 

“Now we have to gather the right sheep and shear them too..” Frustration lines her face, and beads of sweat form a trail down her hairline, leaving traces on her tank top. 

In the blistering heat of her frustration, your sister's words cut through the air like a searing wind. “We are going to be behind! And it’s your fucking fault!” Her accusatory finger points directly at your retreating form, each word a sharp pang echoing in the shed. 

The weight of your mistake presses down on you, and you can't bear it any longer. Stepping back, you find yourself in the spotlight, all eyes still fixed on your figure. The suffocating tension hangs heavy in the air, leaving you with a sense of regret that matches the scorching heat around you.

As you retreat towards the door, you catch the remorse and sadness in Jimin's eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the chaos unfolding. Pushing yourself outside, you crave distance – an escape from the suffocating atmosphere, from the weight of your failures, and from the relentless series of mistakes that cling to you like a shadow.

Without warning, your feet break into a sprint, the sting of unshed tears threatening to overflow. In the midst of your rapid escape, you acknowledge the bitter truth – a familiar refrain that echoes in your mind: you should have seen it coming; after all, you have a knack for unraveling everything you touch.

Barely a few steps away, a familiar silhouette catches up – it's Jimin. As you reach the outskirts of the main house, standing in the yard, he utters words that echo with a plea, “Please come back,” his voice infused with a tenderness that tugs at your heart.

You exhale a heavy sigh, pausing before taking tentative steps toward the house. Slowly, you pivot your body, facing him with a mix of reluctance and curiosity.

“I fuck everything up Jimin,” you confess, releasing a heavy breath and exhaling deeply. “I feel utterly useless on this ranch.”

You sense your mind descending a ladder it shouldn't tread, but you can't resist. The overwhelming feeling of uselessness sends your thoughts into a tailspin.

“It’s to be expected. You’ll get better.” As he attempts to reassure you, his words only partially register, drowned out by the surging frustration within. A turbulent blend of anger and irritation courses through your veins, and you clench your fists, struggling to steady the rapid rhythm of your heart.

Out of the blue, you throw a question at him, breaking the silence. “Do you think I belong here?” The unexpected inquiry catches him off guard, evident in the momentary gape on his face.

“I do,” he starts, his words carrying a subtle plea, and you're left wondering why. What prompts this earnest assurance from him?

“I believe you just need time,” he adds, a reassuring smile gracing his face. 

“I don't think I fit in, and I feel like an imposter,” you state, the words escaping your lips with a blankness that mirrors the emptiness inside. It's as if all the fight has been drained from you. Thoughts of returning home and calling it quits start to seep in, contemplating whether this life is truly meant for you. The allure of the city beckons, a retreat from the challenges on the ranch and perhaps a way to keep a safe distance from your sister. The idea lingers, tempting you with the notion that everyone might be happier that way.

You feel the raindrops patter on your skin, a cascading rhythm that mirrors the tumult within. Jimin appears unfazed, embracing the downpour without hesitation. The deluge intensifies, nearly drowning you in its relentless flow, mirroring the suffocating feeling of your struggles on the ranch. Is this torrential downpour a sign, urging you to contemplate the idea that perhaps it's truly time to head back to the city?

“We should get back,” Jimin suggests, attempting to guide you back, but the allure of the rain refuses to release its grip. The downpour descends heavily, clinging to your hair, a weight that feels like both burden and baptism. With raindrops tracing trails down your skin, it’s almost as if you’re being cleansed. As he observes your entwined hands, Jimin releases an audible sigh. 

“You belong here,” he whispers, his voice a gentle caress, and a distant memory awakens within you— Childhood days resurface, a time of carefree laughter, a handsome boy uttering those same words when your father tore you away from this very land.

His touch crackles with an electric charge, igniting your skin in a dance with the pelting rain. It's a strange collision of fire and water, the contrasting elements creating a sensation that defies the damp surroundings. Instead of quenching the internal fire, the rain seems to stoke its flames, the intensity growing and nearly overtaking you.

His simple words act as a catalyst, reigniting the spark within you. With a heart fluttering to the rhythm of a wild stallion's gallop, you sprint back to the shed hand in hand, a small newfound determination propelling you forward in the pouring rain.

The lingering sense of uselessness persists, a relentless storm within. The weight of failure bears down on you, exacerbated when Jessi emphatically states that wet sheep can't be sheared. Her reminder echoes in the air, emphasizing the crucial task of gathering the right sheep after the sun works its magic to dry and warm their wool.

Amidst the tumultuous events, a haunting trio of emotions persists – regret, failure, and the sting of embarrassment.

As you move, the gentle yet commanding gaze of hazel eyes tracks your every step, sending a tingling sensation across your skin, creating an undercurrent of anticipation.

Frustration fueled by recent setbacks propels you to reach for your phone, fervently scouring the internet for information on handling your inheritance. Can you maneuver through the legal intricacies to sell your share of the ranch without the elusive signature of your sister?

In a moment of urgency, you delve into the unexplored territory of your inheritance, frantically searching on your phone. To your surprise, the results reveal a glimmer of hope – selling your share of the ranch without your sister's consent is not just a possibility, but a potential reality.

Despite the unsettling churn in your stomach at the thought of selling your share without your sister's knowledge, there's an undercurrent of reassurance. The knowledge that you have this option as a fallback provides a sliver of comfort, a lifeline in case Jessi refuses to grant you her signature.

Even as the warmth of this place and its people seep into your heart, the truth remains unchanged—you were never destined to stay. The allure of a potential sale, with its promise of financial security, continues to beckon, a lingering reminder of the transient nature of your stay.

As Ara flashes you a warm smile while tidying up a horse's stall in the barn, she extends an invitation, “Do you want to come into town with us?” 

You're already lending her a hand, a task you're proficient at among the few things you've mastered during your stay.

“Sure,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug, the prospect of joining them in town offering a welcome diversion. With nothing pressing on your agenda, the possibility of a change of scenery beckons.

After completing the task of clearing out the stalls, you step into the yard, heading towards the pickup truck where Ha-rin awaits. The afternoon briskness plays with the strands of her short black hair.

As you all squeeze into the car, Ara takes the driver's seat and steers towards town. The road stretches out, and a contemplative silence envelops the vehicle. Unsure of what to discuss, you resist the urge to fill the void with forced conversation, allowing the rhythmic hum of the engine to create a canvas for unspoken thoughts.

Ara, surprisingly swift behind the wheel, navigates the journey to town in under two hours, leaving you both impressed and slightly questioning the safety of the speedy drive.

Nevertheless, here you are, immersed in the charm of the small town, wandering the aisles of the local grocery store.

Your trio navigates the aisles in unison, methodically checking items off Jessi's list. The simplicity of the task doesn't escape you, and you're determined not to let this be another thing you mess up.

As your gaze sweeps across the formidable grocery list, you notice an abundance of canned goods, sacks of flour, bags of rice, heaps of pasta, and an array of frozen items. The sheer quantity raises an unspoken question in your mind – is Jessi preparing for an impending event, or is this a routine restocking?

You cast a frustrated gaze away from the overwhelming list, you can't help but voice your exasperation. “Do we seriously need every single thing on this damn list?” The question hangs in the air, met with amused chuckles from the girls, their eyes twinkling with shared understanding.

Ha-rin offers a smile, her explanation accompanied by a purposeful stride as she guides the cart through the aisles, steadily accumulating the items on the lengthy list. “It's mainly for backstock. Stocking up helps us avoid frequent trips to town,” she shares, her words carrying a practical wisdom that resonates with the challenges of ranch life.

As you navigate through the aisle, the sultry tones of a familiar voice reach your ears. “Come on. It'll be fun in my car.” 

Turning the corner, you spot the source—Jungkook, once again in the midst of his charming antics. A chuckle escapes you at the scene: his body leaning into the woman's like a predator and its prey. The pang in your chest is fleeting this time, a mere echo of the past encounter when you found yourself pressed against a wall with Jungkook.

Ara joins you, a shared chuckle escapes her lips as both of you catch sight of Jungkook's flirtatious spectacle. Deciding not to linger, you continue your journey further into the store, leaving the scene behind.

“I feel like I see Jungkook everywhere I go,” laughing, you share your observation with Ara as the cart, now laden with supplies, glides toward the cashier. The recurrent presence of Jungkook in unexpected places has become a quirky pattern in your days.

“Jungkook's reputation with the women in this town is legendary,” Ha-rin remarks, rolling her eyes with a smile. “Not that he's not sweet, but it's as if he's eternally searching, never quite satisfied,” she muses, the words more of a contemplative murmur than a deliberate statement.

As you ponder Ha-rin's remark about Jungkook, a fleeting thought crosses your mind. Could it be true that he, like everyone else, is on a quest for ‘the one’?

At the cashier, you efficiently load all your items onto the till, settle the grocery bill, and proceed to wheel the cart out to the pick-up truck. The teamwork flows seamlessly, and thankfully, the task is swiftly accomplished.

Securing the tarp over the backload of the truck, you turn to Ara and Ha-rin with a curious glint in your eyes. “Do you guys know when Jungkook moved here? I don't recall him being around when I was a kid,” you inquire, a tinge of nostalgia coloring your voice.

As you all climb back into the truck, you can't help but feel a sense of relief with Ha-rin taking the wheel this time – a decision that, for some reason, gives you a comforting notion of safety.

“Jungkook actually moved here shortly after you left,” Ara reveals from the front seat. The engine roars to life as Ha-rin takes control, steering the truck back towards the ranch.

“His mom married Jimin’s father, and they embraced the Park surname as their own. Jungkook’s actual last name is Jeon,” Ara shares, her laughter filling the truck's cabin as she turns to face you more directly. “And here's a tidbit for you: Jessi and Jungkook are actually best friends.” The revelation catches you off guard. Despite their apparent closeness, you hadn't realized the depth of their friendship until now.

“They’re always bickering,” Ha-rin chimes in with an eye roll, steering the car down the main road.

“They just need to fuck each other, that’s all.” Ara declares with a laughter that echoes through the truck.

You join in her laughter, though a peculiar unease settles in your stomach.

You sprint down to the main house, your feet drumming angrily on the dirt, the rhythmic pulse of your heart echoing in your ears. Bursting through the door, you dash into the kitchen, seeking out Ha-rin. Panting, you lean against the door frame, catching your breath.

Gasping for breath, eyes wide with urgency, you implore, “Do you have the vet's number?”

Worry etches across her face as she abandons the vegetables on the countertop. With a swift motion, she retrieves a piece of paper from the fridge, hastily jotting down the vet's number. 

“What's wrong?” she inquires, concern lacing her words. 

You spill the urgency in your voice, “It's Cinnamon, he's just laying down in his stall and I can't get him to stand. He seems to be in pain.”

“This is Namjoon’s number. Call him, and he’ll get here as soon as possible.” She hands you the slip of paper, and as you're about to turn away, heading back to the barn, you flash her a soft smile, gratitude lingering in your gaze.

“It sounds like he might have colic; do everything you can to make him stand up, okay?” She continues with a sense of urgency, turning her attention back to preparing the vegetables for tonight's dinner. You respond with a firm nod, then hastily leave the kitchen, the house, and sprint toward the barn, the piece of paper tightly clenched in your hand.

Cinnamon remains on the ground, emitting a strained whine that sends shivers down your spine. His condition is visibly deteriorating. Anxious, you retrieve your phone and the piece of paper bearing the vet's number. Your fingertips glide across the glass of your phone, tracing unfamiliar numbers before decisively pressing ‘call.’

“Hello, this is Namjoon. How can I assist you?” His voice carries a gentle warmth, hinting at a reassuring smile even through the phone.

“Hey there! My sister's horse is in bad shape. Any chance you could swing by and check him out?” you implore, crouching beside Cinnamon and gently caressing his soft coat.

“Absolutely,” he responds, and a brief pause follows, suggesting he's gathering supplies, the distinct rustling audible. “Mind filling me in on what's going on with the horse?”

After a brief hesitation, you gather your thoughts. Uncertain about Cinnamon's ailment, you decide to echo Ha-rin's suggestion, your voice conveying the worry that grips you. “I suspect it might be colic. He's lying down, and I can't get him to stand up.”

As Namjoon offers advice over the phone, the urgency in his voice becomes apparent. “It might be colic. Try your best to get him up and walk around if possible,” he instructs, the audible sounds of a car door opening and closing in the background. Then, he queries, “Where did you say you were again?”

You chuckle, realizing you hadn't given any information about yourself, let alone an introduction. “I'm at Bora Ranch,” you quickly provide, hoping the vet can navigate his way to your location without further delay.

The silence on the line for a few seconds feels like an eternity, but then his voice resonates close to the phone, “Wait... Are you Jessi’s sister? Is Cinnamon sick?” The urgency in his tone heightens the gravity of the situation.

You nod fervently, forgetting for a moment that he can't see you, and respond, “Yeah, that's right.”

“Okay. I'll be there soon,” he assures you before the line goes silent, the distant hum of a car engine starting in the background. Anxious, you pray that Namjoon arrives quickly; the agony of watching Cinnamon in pain becomes more unbearable by the moment.

You attempt to coax him with a gentle tug on his halter, but Cinnamon remains stubbornly unmoving. It's as if he's determined to stay sprawled on the ground. You wrestle with the conflicting thoughts racing through your mind – would it truly be detrimental if he stayed down? Uncertain, you recall the vet and Ha-rin's advice, urging you to encourage movement. Faced with uncertainty, you resolve to heed their counsel and make a concerted effort to get him back on his feet.

“Come on, buddy, rise up... I beg you to get up,” you groan, attempting to lift Cinnamon's head, but your efforts prove futile. Time seems to blur as you persist in coaxing Cinnamon to stand, your frustration mounting. 

Just when despair threatens to settle in, the distant hum of an incoming car reaches your ears. A surge of gratitude washes over you as the vet's arrival feels like a lifeline in this desperate situation.

The nearing footsteps echo steadily, building anticipation until a towering figure emerges before you. Lifting your gaze, you lock eyes with the imposing presence that has just arrived.

His physique commands attention, a robust build accentuated by broad shoulders and encased in a blue coverall with sleeves artfully rolled up, revealing powerful biceps. Yet, his face carries an inviting warmth, and a friendly smile plays on his lips, instantly putting you at ease. Dimples grace his cheeks, adding a touch of approachable charm as he surveys you and the ailing Cinnamon.

“Greetings, I'm Namjoon, the vet,” he declares, placing his toolbox down before extending a hand for a firm shake. His neatly cropped black hair impeccably frames his face, and you take note of his confident yet gentle demeanor. As you introduce yourself as Jessi’s sister, you step aside, creating room for him to enter the stall and assess Cinnamon more closely.

“I'll conduct a thorough examination, but at the moment, colic appears to be a likely diagnosis,” he mentions, retrieving a set of instruments from his toolbox. With precision, he begins scrutinizing Cinnamon, attentively listening to the rhythmic sounds of the horse's stomach through a stethoscope

“Hmm. Could you fetch that tube protruding from my bag?” He motions towards his toolbox, and you swiftly identify the requested tube, presenting it to him. “Appreciate it,” he responds with a grateful smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of professionalism and warmth.

“Could you hold the tube for me? I need to step out to my car and retrieve a bag of fluids,” he entrusts you with the tube before swiftly heading outside, returning promptly with the life-saving liquid in hand.

“Appreciate it,” he acknowledges, reclaiming the tube from your hands and linking it to the translucent bag of vital fluid. Squatting down beside Cinnamon, he gently coaxes the horse's mouth open, inserting the tube into his throat. The sight is unsettling, prompting you to avert your gaze; it's too distressing to witness.

“The fluids will aid in rehydration,” Namjoon enlightens you, sensing your reluctance. 

“The tube is in; you can turn around now.” A soft laugh accompanies his words, prompting you to face the scene unfolding before you. Witnessing Cinnamon receiving the vital fluids is a reassuring sight, and you find a glimmer of hope in the expertise of the skilled veterinarian.

“I've administered some medication to help him relax and alleviate the stomach discomfort. You should be able to get him on his feet in a few minutes,” Namjoon explains, rising to his feet and offering you a reassuring smile. His confidence in the treatment plan eases your worry, and you feel a sense of gratitude for his expertise.

“Jessi never brought up having a sister until about a week ago, so your existence was a bit of a surprise,” Namjoon chuckles, casually leaning against the stall's wall.

“That's not entirely surprising. I left this place as a kid, and now I'm grappling with this unexpected inheritance that's become a puzzle I can't quite solve,” you admit, absently scratching the back of your head in a gesture of nervous uncertainty. It's not that Namjoon is making you uneasy; rather, it's the delicate balance of deciding how much of your story to unveil. Some cards, you’ve learned, are meant to be held close to your chest.

“You know, you could always stick around and build a life for yourself here with your sister,” he suggests, a contemplative smile playing on his lips.

“I've been thinking of heading back to the city... Things are a bit complicated around here,” you admit, reflecting on the numerous times you've stumbled and the strain it has put on your relationship with Jessi.

Without waiting for Namjoon's response, Cinnamon unexpectedly stirs, lifting his head with a renewed vitality. Rushing over, you grab his halter and gently coax him back onto his feet.

The tube slips from his mouth with a resonant clatter, and Cinnamon vigorously shakes his head, dispelling the fatigue that weighed on his robust frame. As he rises to stand firmly on all four legs, a wave of relief washes over you, reassuring you that he's on the path to recovery. You offer him a gentle pat, your touch a soothing affirmation of his regained strength.

“If you've got other matters to attend to, I can handle walking him around. My schedule is clear at the moment. I'll look after him until Jessi returns,” Namjoon suggests, securing a tow rope to Cinnamon's halter before leading him out for a stroll.

“Sure thing,” you respond, reflecting on Ha-rin in the kitchen, realizing she could probably use an extra hand. Expressing your gratitude, you head down to the house, relieved that Cinnamon appears to be on the mend.

Teaming up with Ha-rin, you dive into preparing tonight's dinner, savoring the lively conversation between you. A part of you acknowledges the inevitable longing for these moments once you return to the city. For now, you hold onto these cherished times with everyone on the ranch.

As the clock ticks towards dinner, and with no sign of your sister in sight, you notice Namjoon's car still parked by the barn. Determined, you make your way up there, ready to announce that dinner is served, extending an invitation to Namjoon to join if he wishes.

In the warm embrace of the lingering weather, you embark on a short walk towards the barn. The muffled voices of your sister and Namjoon greet your ears, growing more distinct as you draw near. As you gently push the barn door open, an unexpected sight unfolds before you—they share a tender kiss. 

Stunned, your mouth hangs agape, and instinctively, you retreat behind the barn door, veiling yourself in the shadows to avoid catching their attention.

Your decision to conceal yourself feels somewhat irrational. The sight of your sister engaging in a kiss is surprisingly jarring—perhaps it's the sheer unexpectedness. In your mind, you didn’t think she had a romantic bone in her body, and this revelation leaves you in a state of bewildered surprise.

You push open the barn doors, breaking the tender moment between your sister and Namjoon. A faint blush tints your cheeks as their gaze shifts to you. “Dinner's ready,” you announce, a casual invitation extended to Namjoon. Without waiting for their response, you swiftly retreat, your steps carrying you back down to the house.

The unexpected sight quickens your heart, a strange warmth flickering within. It's comforting to see your sister finding solace, someone to lean on as you prepare to depart. Reflecting on your own shortcomings, you realize you've been more of a burden than a support. But perhaps, in Namjoon, she's found a source of stability you couldn't provide.

The dinner unfolds seamlessly, with Namjoon proving to be delightful company. A subtle undercurrent of emotion lingers between him and your sister, evident in shared glances and unspoken words. Witnessing this connection stirs a surprising sense of joy within you, a genuine happiness for your sister.

“Thank you for calling Namjoon, when you saw that Cinnamon was sick,” Jessi's gratitude catches you off guard, her eyes expressing a tenderness you've rarely witnessed. It's a surreal moment, as if a different, softer version of your sister is speaking. She’s even thanking you. Is this moment real?

Namjoon's words carry a reassuring smile, his gaze fixed on you. “Thanks to your prompt call, Cinnamon will be back to his spirited self in just a few days.” His words accompany a gentle smile, his touch offering comfort as he playfully nudges Jessi's shoulder. 

At last, a glimmer of success amidst the string of mishaps. 

A warmth blooms within your chest, and a genuine smile graces your lips. It's a small victory, but in this moment, you revel in the relief of having played a part in something that didn't unravel under your touch.

As the sun shines high, casting a warm glow upon the barn, the rhythmic symphony of saddles being fastened and horses being prepped fills the air. You meticulously saddle up Marshmallow, your loyal companion, while Jessi tends to Cinnamon, who has thankfully bounced back from his bout of colic. In the background, Ara, Ha-rin, and Soo-ah bustle around, collecting saddles and bridles for their own equine companions. Each of their horses, with coats of varying browns, don distinctive stockings, that makes it easier to tell them apart.

“Are the guys meeting us here?” Curiosity colors your expression as you inquire about the guys, your gaze following Jessi's skilled hands as she readies Cinnamon. 

With the saddle securely in place and the bridle in hand, Jessi exudes confidence, her words carrying a definitive tone, promising the imminent arrival of the guys, “Yeah, they’ll be here at any moment.” Stepping out of the barn, she leads Cinnamon with purpose.

As you prepare to tack up Marshmallow, the task of fastening the girth on the saddle demands your attention. Yet, in the midst of the routine, Marshmallow stands patiently, a paragon of trust and reliability. With practiced ease, you secure the girth, appreciating the unwavering steadiness of your equine companion before moving on to put on the bridle.

While you meticulously attend to Marshmallow, the trio of Soo-ah, Ha-rin, and Ara prove to be swift in their preparations. The clatter of hooves signals their efficiency, and before you can lead Marshmallow out, they're already guiding their horses into the open, joining Jessi in the vibrant embrace of the outdoors.

After meticulously preparing Marshmallow, you guide him out of the barn to find the girls eagerly mounted on their horses, a scene brimming with anticipation. They sit poised, their eyes on you.

Gracefully mounting Marshmallow, you settle into the saddle with practiced ease, a seamless fusion of rider and horse. Alongside the girls, you wait for the guys to arrive.

On top of the hill, four men adorned with cowboy hats emerge as the charge down the hill with an effortless equestrian elegance. The rhythmic cadence of hooves makes your heart feel giddy with anticipation and you take a moment to appreciate how incredible they all look on horseback.

Jungkook commands a fiery red stallion, its thick mane billowing gracefully in the wind, embodying untamed vitality. Meanwhile, Jimin guides a sleek black horse, distinguished by elegant white stockings that accentuate its majestic presence. Trailing closely behind, Yoongi and Hoseok navigate their sturdy brown horses. 

As they approach, the undeniable allure of these men becomes even more apparent. Is everyone in the country just handsome?

However, it's Jimin's eyes that captivate you instantly—deep pools reflecting a passion that seems to run as profound as the countryside hills. The cowboy hat sits stylishly on his head, allowing strands of his blonde hair to playfully escape. His green checkered button-down shirt clings snugly to his well-defined torso, sleeves casually rolled up. The denim pants and boots bear the marks of hard work, adorned with the earthy traces of the ranch.

Jungkook dons a shirt that molds perfectly to his sculpted pectorals, paired with snug denim jeans and sturdy boots. Yoongi opts for a white tank top, showcasing his lean arms and defined biceps. Meanwhile, Hoseok sports a loose gray shirt that complements his easygoing style, paired effortlessly with denim pants.

“Hi,” resonates in unison from the group of guys as they approach you near the barn. A smile graces your lips, but your attention quickly shifts to your sister, fully aware that she's likely crafted a meticulous plan for the upcoming cattle drive.

“Nice of you to make it in time,” Jessi grunts, a small smile playing on her lips, punctuated by a chuckle.

“Someone had to spend an eternity getting ready,” Jungkook quips, rolling his eyes and nodding toward Jimin. He follows it with a nonchalant shrug, not bothering to deny it.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Hoseok asks, brimming with eagerness to get started. Jungkook scoffs beside him, “Boss? She’s not your boss– I am.”

Hoseok burst out in a beautiful, contagious laughter, echoing through the air and drawing a chuckle from you.

“Kook, just shut up,” Jessi laughs, her voice carrying a hint of playful exasperation. Then, she takes a deep breath, steadying her posture, “We'll move the cattle from the northeastern paddock to the one closest to the Bell Ranch.”

Amidst nods from everyone, Yoongi leans down, patting his horse's neck with a soothing touch that elicits a deep, resonant whine from the animal. “Anything else?” he asks, his voice a calm undercurrent in the anticipation-laden air.

Jessi's gaze sweeps across the group, her eyes meeting each one in turn. A stern but determined expression settles on her face. 

“This is a stress-free drive, so remember, no pushing the cattle!” Her words hang in the air, setting the tone for the upcoming task.

Jessi orchestrates the plan with precision, assigning roles to each member of the team. “Me and Soo-ah will take the front, Ha-rin, Hoseok, Kook, and you,” she points directly at you, “will cover the sides, and then Jimin, Yoongi, and Ara will handle the back of the herd.” Her directive gaze holds a sense of purpose, and a unanimous agreement ripples through the group.

“Let’s get going!” Jessi announces, her voice bubbling with excitement as she nudges Cinnamon into a spirited gallop. Eagerly, the rest of the group surges forward, and you, too, urge Marshmallow into a rhythmic canter, the rhythmic beat of hooves creating a lively symphony as the cattle drive begins.

To reach the north-eastern paddock, the journey takes you over rolling hills and through a small forest, where fallen trees create impromptu jumping courses. Jungkook, seizing every opportunity, guides his horse with finesse over the natural obstacles. Yoongi and Hoseok follow suit, while Soo-ah and your sister eagerly join in on the exhilarating equine adventures.

As the group revels in the joy of riding, laughter fills the air as they expertly guide their horses over logs and obstacles, showcasing their agility and camaraderie. Meanwhile, the rest of you opt for the smoother path, enjoying the less rugged terrain.

Amidst the playful antics of the group, you observe Jimin refraining from the lively jumping games. However, his infectious laughter resonates, and his eyes crinkle in mirth.

you sense his attentive gaze lingering on you as you ride, creating a flutter that dances in your stomach reminiscent of the last time you felt his eyes roam your body.

As you reach the paddock, Jessi gracefully maneuvers Cinnamon into position, opening the gate from atop his back. With a synchronized pace, you guide your horses through the entrance.

“Alright, everyone, let's find our positions. And keep in mind— stress-free!” Jessi's eyes pierce through the group, emphasizing the importance of a calm approach. 

The importance of a stress-free approach for better cattle sales echoes in your mind, a principle she insists upon even when the herd isn't up for sale yet. It's Jessi's commitment to consistency, and you brace yourselves for the task ahead, determined to maintain the calm demeanor required for a successful drive.

Jessi and Soo-ah kick their horses into a measured trot, leading the way towards the grazing cattle. The rhythmic beats of hooves on the ground set the tone for the impending drive, as you and the rest of the group follow, creating a unified force propelling towards the herd.

With precise coordination, Ha-rin and Hoseok elegantly flank the right side of the cattle, while you and Jungkook synchronize on the left. Together, you form an unyielding circle, ensuring the cattle remain contained within your guiding presence. Bringing up the rear, Jimin, Yoongi, and Ara stand as guardians, securing the boundaries of the moving cattle.

As you gradually set the cattle in motion, your horses step purposefully, nudging the herd forward with a deliberate yet gentle momentum. The realization dawns on you that this endeavor could stretch into hours at the current pace. A silent acknowledgment passes through your mind – a subtle premonition that your ass is going to hurt after this damn long cattle drive. Sigh. 

Adjusting yourself in the saddle, a subtle awareness creeps over you, when you feel a tingling sensation run through your body – the distinct sense of Jimin's eyes tracing your movements. Expectantly, you turn to meet his gaze, only to find his attention fixated on the cattle, his expression unreadable. 

The vast expanse of open land surrounds you, the lush green grass beneath your horse's hooves and the endless blue sky overhead create a beautiful image, like straight from a painting. Despite the scorching summer heat, you appreciate the breathability of your t-shirt, confident it shields you from overheating. 

Glancing at Jimin, clad in a button-down shirt, you can't help but wonder if he's feeling the heat, beads of sweat possibly forming beneath the fabric.

As the chatter of small groups fills the air, you and Jungkook maintain a contemplative silence, guiding the cattle towards Bell Ranch at a deliberate pace. The rhythmic hoofbeats and the collective murmur create a serene backdrop to your silent partnership, each of you immersed in your own thoughts as the herd moves forward.

Jungkook maneuvers his horse closer to yours, prompting a curious look from you. Leaning in, he turns his head in your direction and asks, “Are you alright?” His voice carries a genuine concern, and you find yourself captivated by the unexpected tenderness in his eyes.

His unexpected question catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily wide-eyed. A soft chuckle escapes him as you gather your thoughts. 

“I'm fine,” you assure him with a gentle smile, the warmth in your expression matching the pleasant day unfolding around you.

His words hang in the air, laced with a playful smile that reaches his eyes. “I've sensed a bit of avoidance on your end since the barn party,” he says, punctuating the statement with a wink and a teasing smirk.

Your words rush out, a mix of surprise and reassurance. “I really wasn't avoiding you,” you start, hoping to convey that any perceived avoidance was unintentional. 

“Are you hurt because you wanted a relationship with me?” His words, delivered with an air of casual curiosity, strike a chord within you. The nonchalant tone belies the complexity of the question. In the initial moments, a pang of hurt may have flickered, not due to a desire for a relationship, but from the lingering sense that there might have been more beneath the surface between you.

His unexpected question leaves you momentarily flabbergasted. “No, Jungkook. I've just heard a lot…” Your sentence hangs in the air, interrupted by his swift interjection, “That I fuck around a lot?” The weight of his reputation hangs in the air, injecting a charged energy into the conversation.

As you nod in acknowledgment, he erupts into laughter, exuding an undeniable sense of self-contentment. There's a certain admiration that sprouts within you, witnessing his unapologetic confidence.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly cut out for relationships. I just wanted to clear the air, make sure you weren’t expecting something more from me,” he grins, and you reciprocate with a smile of your own.

“I don’t, but I’d love to be friends with you?” His face lights up at your words, a radiant smile nearly outshining the sun. Laughter bubbles up from within you, a newfound lightness filling your chest now that you’ve cleared the air.

Just when you anticipate him riding away, he edges even closer, your horses nearly touching. “Actually,” he leans in, whispering in your ear, “I've noticed the way Jimin looks at you.” 

Your ears and cheeks blaze with heat, and your heartbeat quickens, as if a spark could set you ablaze at any moment. Has Jungkook truly sensed the simmering tension between his brother and you? While in conversation with Jungkook, the weight of chocolate brown eyes drilling into your back intensifies, a silent observer.

A nervous chuckle escapes you, blending with Jungkook's laughter beside you. “I've also noticed the way you look at him,” he adds, his eyes glinting with a playful understanding that hints at the unspoken connection between you and Jimin.

This revelation tightens the grip of anxiety around your chest, your heart threatening to burst forth. You believed your feelings were veiled in subtlety, yet Jungkook's revelation suggests otherwise. Your palms turn clammy as his warm breath grazes your ear, a sensation that sends electric shivers coursing through your entire body.

Jungkook straightens up on his horse, creating some distance that allows you to breathe more freely. However, his words hang in the air, echoing in your mind. “You should make a move,” he suggests casually. Yet, his words echo in your mind, almost making you choke on the fresh air, and your eyes widen. Does he really think you should make a move on Jimin— won’t that be weird?

An awkward chuckle escapes your lips as you voice the concern that's been gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. 

“I mean, he's your brother… Won’t that be weird?” The words stumble out, a bit disjointed, revealing the nervous energy that now dances between you and Jungkook. The admission of your attraction to Jimin hangs in the air, making the situation more delicate than ever.

His honest words wash over you, a tide of reassurance in a sea of uncertainty. “I don't think it's weird, at least not for me,” Jungkook confesses, and suddenly, the weight of apprehension begins to lift. His understanding response offers a newfound comfort, nudging you to consider the possibility of embracing your feelings for Jimin.

He leans back into you, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “Also, he's looking at you now, practically undressing you with his eyes.” The words send a thrilling shiver down your spine, creating an electric surge inside your body and a charged atmosphere as you process the realization of Jimin’s lingering gaze.

You gulp, acutely aware of Jimin's lingering gaze that has been like a steady flame throughout the day, igniting a fire in your body that you're hesitant to stoke. Jungkook chuckles at your nervous reaction, and in that momentary distraction, you both fail to notice two cattle slipping away from your side.

“The cattle are out!” The urgency in Yoongi's shout pierces the air, and without a second thought, you and Jungkook kick your horses into a gallop, chasing after the errant cattle. Jimin swiftly takes your place at the side of the herd, seamlessly filling the gap left in your wake.

Side by side with Jungkook, you expertly corral the two stray cattle, seamlessly reintegrating them with the rest of the herd. Yet, a discerning glance from your sister reveals your momentary lapse in attention.

Her voice carries a hint of frustration as she scolds, “Didn't I emphasize a stress-free drive?” Her eyes reflect irritation as she shakes her head disapprovingly. Resuming your original positions with Jungkook, Jimin strides purposefully back to his spot at the rear of the herd.

Apologizing, you attempt to justify, “I'm sorry, but they were making a run for it…” However, Jessi isn't willing to accept your explanation.

Her frustration boils over, “You always mess things up—the feed, the tire, the gate, and now this!” With an exasperated exhale, she falls silent and resumes her position at the front of the group.

Your complexion drains of color, the weight of Jessi's accusations sinking in. Has she been keeping a tally of your every misstep? You're well aware of your frequent blunders, but Jessi's direct call-out stings. 

Gripping the reins tightly, you feel frustration coursing through your veins. With a deep breath, you fight to regain composure, not wanting to distress Marshmallow with your unsettled state.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook attempts to offer reassurance, but you're in no mood to accept it. The exhaustion of another setback on the cattle drive weighs heavily on you. “It's not okay,” you groan, a sense of deflation settling in. It seems like setbacks always find a way to plague you.

You pivot on Marshmallow, addressing Ara with urgency, “Ara, can we switch places?”

Ara offers you a gentle, reassuring smile, nodding in agreement as she guides her horse to your side. With a turn, you position Marshmallow at the back, now flanked by Jimin and Yoongi.

Frustration envelops the atmosphere at the back, and it's mostly yours. A silent tension lingers between you, Jimin, and Yoongi. It crosses your mind that they might be hesitant to engage in conversation, a realization that irritates you further.

“Just let it go,” Yoongi utters, his gaze fixed ahead, and for a moment, it's unclear if the advice is meant for you. Your retort comes swiftly, “Easy for you to say; you're not the one stumbling at every turn.” A frustrated exhale follows, tension thick in the air.

“He did in the beginning,” Jimin chimes in, a playful smile accompanying his laughter. Yoongi, rolling his eyes at Jimin’s jest, contributes, “I did. You learn from each and every one of your screw-ups.” 

“It's pointless,” you sigh, a heavy sense of defeat settling over you. It's time to call it quits.

Jimin visibly startles at your candid statement, a subtle flinch in his movements. The tension radiates through him, evident in the stiffening of his shoulders. Yoongi, wisely choosing silence, refrains from adding anything further, sensing it's not the moment to provoke.

The remainder of the drive proceeds with minor mishaps, and you successfully avoid major blunders in the back. However, upon reaching Bell Ranch, Jessi's dissatisfaction with your performance becomes glaringly apparent as she candidly expresses her discontent.

“I don’t want to get into it,” you share, burdened by your own errors and unwilling to hear your sister enumerate your shortcomings in ranch life. Surprisingly, she heeds your request, allowing you to brood in solitude while the others relish a well-deserved sip of water, celebrating the triumph of a fruitful cattle drive.

A somber cloud seems to loom over your head, making it challenging for you to partake in the joy and success radiating from the others.

“I’m going back to the ranch,” you announce to the group, their expressions registering surprise before they nod in acknowledgment. Striding purposefully, you make your way back to where Marshmallow is tethered to a post, swiftly mounting him. A gentle squeeze of your legs, and he bursts into a rapid gallop, carrying you away.

You surge over the undulating hills, the lush green grass beneath you, a cascade of dirt trailing in the wake of Marshmallow's swift strides. Granting him the freedom to unleash his energy, you, too, allow your emotions to unravel. This gallop, akin to the refreshing rain, brings a cleansing sensation, each stride lightening the burden on your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, you guide Marshmallow into a brisk trot, the anticipation building with each step. Upon reaching the barn, you meticulously strip away his gear, setting him free into the paddock alongside his equine companions, the sun casting a warm glow on the familiar surroundings.

Determined to shift your focus, you stride purposefully toward the main house, contemplating the idea of preparing a hearty dinner for the returning group. The uncertainty of their arrival lingers, but the thought of a satisfying meal upon their return fuels your motivation to create something special.

Seeking refuge in the kitchen, you throw yourself into the rhythm of meal preparation, attempting to drown out the echoes of your perceived failures. However, just as you find solace in the routine, a gentle pattering on the roof and windows interrupts your thoughts – the subtle arrival of rain. 

As you lose yourself in the culinary dance, time becomes elusive. When you finally lift your gaze from the bubbling pots, a captivating sight unfolds outside the kitchen window – the girls, drenched from the rain, riding back on horseback. The tantalizing aroma of dinner fills the air, and with their return, you hope to satisfy not only their hunger but also the unspoken cravings lingering in the rain-kissed atmosphere.

In a swift transition, they sweep into the house, their laughter mingling with the aroma of the rain outside. Together in the kitchen, a collaborative symphony ensues as you and the girls put the finishing touches on dinner, setting the table in the warm glow of the living room. Despite the subtle undercurrent of Jessi's irritation, you forge ahead, determined not to let it cast a shadow over the convivial atmosphere you're creating.

Amidst the shared warmth of the dinner table, Ha-rin expresses her gratitude, breaking into a chuckle that echoes the sentiment of relief. “Thank you for taking the reins in the kitchen,” she acknowledges, savoring the anticipation of a meal without the familiar duty of preparing it.

As you share a smile with Ha-rin, a peculiar tension lingers around the table, casting a shadow over the meal. Your appetite wanes, reduced to absentmindedly stabbing at the food on your plate.

“Why do you keep messing up?” Jessi's voice pierces the air, frustration palpable as her gaze locks onto you. The question hangs in the room, demanding an answer you're not sure how to provide. Honestly, the reasons behind your repeated slip-ups elude you, leaving a disconcerting silence in their wake.

You release a frustrated sigh, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. Clenching your hands in a bid to contain the brewing storm of emotions, you admit, “I... don't know.” 

The confession hangs in the air, a raw acknowledgment of your own confusion and struggle.

Jessi's frustration explodes, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp gust of wind. “I give you clear instructions, but you manage to mess it up every time!” 

Her words reverberate across the table, a storm of tension settling over the room, leaving the rest of the girls in hushed silence, their eyes darting between the two of you as the confrontation unfolds.

“I'm well aware that I mess things up, but damn it, I'm trying!” Your voice echoes with a mix of frustration and desperation, the words carrying a weight of both anger and a plea for understanding.

“If you can't handle it, then I don't want you here,” she declares with unwavering determination, and you find yourself gaping at her. The simmering anger within threatens to boil over, your hand involuntarily unclenching as the tension in the room tightens like a coiled spring.

“Maybe I should just leave then! Sell my share of the ranch,” you retort with a sharp edge, your heartbeat quickening as anger boils inside, transforming your thoughts into a seething red haze.

She scuffs, “Just go, but you’re never getting my signature.”

“I don’t need your signature. I consulted a lawyer, and he said I don’t need it,” you assert, crossing your arms firmly over your torso. 

Jessi's face turns pale at your revelation, and she hisses, “You wouldn’t dare!” 

She's fuming, but you don’t care. 

Unaware of the startled looks from the girls, Jessi has risen from her seat, poking her finger at you. “You wouldn’t dare,” she repeats, her voice seething with disbelief.

“I would,” you declare with unwavering certainty, rising from your seat across from your sister. The air crackles with tension as both of you yell at each other, and it feels like there's no turning back now.

Blinded by rage, you find yourself panting and seething, the room tainted with the color of your fury. The atmosphere becomes oppressive as Jessi slams her hands down onto the table, her words cutting through the air like venom. “I don't want you here. Get the fuck out, and I mean it this time,” she commands, each word carrying the weight of finality, stinging and lingering in the charged silence that follows.

“FINE,” you hiss, your hands clenched in frustration, a turbulent storm of emotions swirling within. It's a bitter realization that this place isn't for you, that your sister neither wants nor needs your presence. With a resigned exhale, you retreat from the table, striding out of the dining room and into the solitude of your guest room, the weight of rejection settling heavily on your shoulders.

You yank open your bags, tearing the closet apart to gather your belongings. The relentless rain pelts against the windows, mirroring the storm of emotions inside you. Frustration wells up within you, and as you navigate the room to collect your scattered belongings, the blur of tears makes it challenging to see. 

Damn it. 

This wasn't the outcome you anticipated.

You never quite found your place here, and perhaps you never truly belonged. Uncertainty engulfs you, a whirlwind of thoughts storming within your mind. Yet, now you're bound for the city. Your heart tightens at the prospect of returning, leaving behind a place that, against all odds, had grown dear to you.

But in the grand scheme of it all, none of it holds significance now. You hastily cram the remaining belongings into your bags and sling them over your shoulders. Your initial packing was minimal, and your city friend's contributions were modest, a reflection of the short-lived stay you had anticipated from the beginning.

A heavy sigh escapes you as you exit the guest room, traversing through the familiar dining room. Pausing in the doorway, you let the weight of the moment settle, and with a resigned tone, you utter, “I suppose this is our farewell.”

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin bid you a somber farewell, their eyes reflecting sadness, but as you turn to face Jessi, her gaze remains stubbornly averted. The palpable tension weighs on you, causing your shoulders to slump in defeat. With a heavy heart, you step outside, making your way to your parked car.

As the rain continues to cascade around you, you disregard the wetness, traversing the distance from the main house to your car. The downpour soaks you thoroughly as you hurriedly stow your bags in the vehicle. Seated inside, a poignant moment unfolds, mirroring the tears glistening in your eyes with the relentless rain outside.

With a heart weighed down by the burdens of departure, you insert the key into the ignition, the mechanical click echoing the emotional weight within. As the engine hums to life, it serves as a reluctant melody to the bittersweet symphony of leaving.

An unsettling sense of déjà vu envelops you as you bid farewell to this familiar haven for the second time. Yet, this departure bears the weight of your own volition, amplifying the melancholy that lingers in the air. 

Regret creeps in, leaving a bitter aftertaste as you press down on the gas, steering the car away from what you once called home, now fading into the rearview mirror.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 I’m not really feeling very well at the moment. I’m very depressed and I was even hospitalized last week because of trigger warning suicidal thoughts… anyway. I’m struggling, but I enjoy writing this, and I’m gonna see it to the end, even though I feel very disheartened by the notes (I really shouldn’t look, but I’m only human, lol. And I’m comparing it to my other works, not other’s because that can get dangerous real fast!). But anyway. Writing is therapeutic for me, but posting seems to be the hurdle for me now… so I’m thinking— only thinking, that this story might be the last one that I post. I don’t know yet. Just a thought. Anyway. I’m very happy to have some lovely friends here— thank you guys! You already know who you are 🫶✨

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[fanttasttica]

Running into stranger

Rhysand x reader

During your first Calanmai you meet someone new, male who you don't know, but at the same time it feels like you know him. What could that feeling mean? How will your meeting end?

A/N: Hello and welcome to my first fanfiction here on Tumblr :D At first I would like to warn you, that english isn't my first language, so there will be some mistakes. But I know you aren't here for me, so now to the story.. Warnings: smut (only indicated) Word count: 2570

It was finally here, you came to age and your first Calanmai was waiting for you. Your family lived in Spring court your whole life and you honestly don't remember, when did you hear about this tradition for the first time. Well.. right now you couldn't even remember how did you get into this white dress and when did your aunt finally left your room, after many hours during which she tried to tame your hair and complete your makeup to perfection. You were staring at yourself in the mirror and you couldn't decide if you loved your new look or hated it. Your aunt did good job, she styled your hair, so they looked like a crown and she even added some flowers from the garden. Your makeup was very light, nothing monstrous, it didn't just feel like you. You looked down on your dress, that was the thing you hated most on your look tonight. Maybe it was because of that deep neckline, which you were not used to. Maybe the fact that you feel like precious porcelain doll in them. You sighed, while shaking your head. It was just for one night. One night and then, you will be free. Well.. until the next year, when there will be another Calanmai and Highlord will be picking another girl, which he wants to fuck, so he can release the magic that will spread through the lands and allow crops to grow. You were just hoping, that the next year, you will not attend. Right now, you were just a single and pure Maiden, an ideal option for tonight's ceremony, as well as a couple of other girls. And your family wanted you to go. Actually, they were even hoping, that you might be the Maiden, who will be picked by Highlord tonight. They probably seemed it as a great opportunity to climb higher in the eyes of society. Saying that their daughter was pretty enough for Highlord to pick her tonight would also ensure plenty of attention and possibly even marriage proposals. You already had some, but not from males your family approved and you didn't mind, because not a single male who wanted to marry you was someone you would want to marry. Maybe you should start coming to terms with the fact that you will probably not marry someone you will love, because that was something your family didn't care for. You were brought up to be a perfect lady, elegant, always polite. Your were expected to hold your tongue and have as many children possible. You hated it. You hated the life your family wanted for you and you haven't even experienced it yet. "Y/N what are you doing?! I was calling for you for the past five minutes." said your mother, while standing in open door to your room. Her foot was tapping impatiently as she waited for an answer, you were going to give her one, but before you could speak, she interrupted you: "It's time to go, or you will be late."

You were relieved, High lord didn't pick you, his eyes were watching you for a while, but then moved to the girl standing next to you. Maybe he saw that you didn't really wanted to be here? You tried to mask your emotions, because you knew how important it was for your family and even though you hated them, you loved them and didn't wish to disappoint them. But since you already had, there wasn't a reason for you to stay. Some people would probably find tonight's festivities interesting, but the only thing you wanted right now was disappear into thin air, so you wouldn't have to watch tons of people have sex, while you were still innocent and insecure about this. Hiding in the shadows, you tried to avoid as many people as possible, which was quite hard, since there were so many of them. Smell of sex was starting to fill air and your lungs, holding breath was not a long-term solution, so you decided to try run faster, but after a fex meters you run into something, or rather someone. Preparing for fall, you closed your yes, but in the end, your body never met the ground. Instead, someone's hand manage to catch you saving your dress from getting dirty, even though you wouldn't mind. You would rather celebrate. Still holding breath, you opened your eyes meeting purple ones, which looked at you in surprise.

"You probably should start to breathe, darling" he said, smirking slightly and you obeyed. "I am sorry," you start pulling away from him nervously and finally looked from his eyes. Your gaze travelled across his handsome face, his neck and to his body, which was covered with clothing, very expensive clothing. "Don't be, I am actually used to girls, who are throwing themselves at me", you replied by raising eyebrows. "You have a very high ego", he chuckled at your words. "Why shouldn't I? Just look at me," your eyes travelled all over his body, once more and you again meet his eyes, which reflected his smile. He was handsome, more than all flowers in this court, no.. He was more handsome than stars on the sky. And since you couldn't denied his words, you rolled your eyes, forgetting good manners for a while. "Sorry", you immediately apologized, after you realized what have you done. "There is no need to apologize, you didn't do anything. Actually, this was probably the mildes reaction I got after boasting myself. My brothers would laugh at me for sure and my cousin would probably start to insult me" you didn't know him, but you still believed him, so you nodded, not knowing what to say. There was silence between you, the only sound was from drums and since you ran far enough, it wasn't that loud either. "Are you okay?" he asked suddenly. "Yes, I am, shouldn't I be?" you straightened up, trying to gather your thoughts. Why are you even here? You should just carry on your way, after apologizing to him, but.. You couldn't. Something was holding you back. Your brain was protesting, when you started thinking about going home. "Well, maybe because you ran into me, like there was a beast following you? I try not to visit Spring court and Calanmai so often, but I know this isn't normal behavior here.." He was clearly not buying your lie, you sighed before replying "I just.. don't like Calanmai so much. And I wanted to get away, before things get out of hand." It looked like he accepted this explanation, nodding his head, "Then why are you here? If you don't like this traditions, you should be home. It's not.. save for you." You knew that, of course you did. This night wasn't only for High lord to find a Maiden and have sex with her. Many others were here to have fun and some males, could be very brutal, if they were refused, mainly those visiting from Autumn court. "Well, you know.." you cleared your throat, embarrassed because of your situation. "My family wanted me to go, they were hoping that High lord Tamlin would pick me tonight", you were whispering, not wanting to say this out loud, because it would make your situation with your family even more real, than it was. Male before you clenched his fists, while his eyes darkened, because now he understood, what were you almost forced to do. It made your heart ache, this stranger already cared more about you, than your own family did. "Were are you going now?" he asked after seconds of silence. "Home," you replied honestly and he shake his head in disbelief. "You are going home after your family forced you, to this? You couldn't possibly mean that," it was understandable that he didn't want to believe you, who would? "I don't have a choice, I don't have anywhere else to go," you shrugged. Of course you didn't want actually to go home. But it seemed better and definitely saver than being outside this night. "You can come with me, to my home" you smiled at his words, not thinking he meant them seriously. "I am serious. I understand that it probably sounds.. well creepy, but I assure you, I don't mean any harm. Maybe I don't know your family, but I am surely better than them, just because I wouldn't ever forced you into anything." Something in your heart was telling you, he meant those words. He seemed actually determined persuading you into going with him. "This is crazy. I don't know you and you don't know me, I.. I shouldn't even be thinking about this," and you still were. "You definitely shouldn't, not that it matters because you're not going anywhere with him or anyone else."

Your family was here. Well, not everyone, just your father, uncles and cousins, standing behind you. You quickly turned, so now you were facing them, stranger came closer to you, so you could almost feel heat coming from his body. Your breath quickened, this wasn't good. They clearly heard you two and because of your word, they knew you were thinking about leaving, about running away from them. Maybe they didn't love you, but they still wanted you to stay, so you could be a puppet in their game. "I.. I am sorry." you looked down, trying to focus on your shoes, instead piercing gaze from your family members. "Don't apologize," strangers voice was kind, well to this moment, now it changed, drastically. His voice was dangerously low and there was something forcing you to shiver, bus it was not from fear. You were confused. "She should apologize. For many reasons and mainly because she failed her job tonight" your father clenched his white teeth furiously. "And because of that, we are here, trying to find her, before she does something stupid, like leaving," your cousin added with venom in his voice. "Thank you for catching me, so I didn't fell and for asking me, if I was okay, but.. I should go." you said, turning your head to stranger, before you could go to your family, he grabbed your wrist firmly but gently. "You don't want to go with them. You shouldn't go, if you don't want to.. And I know you don't want to go with them." His eyes were staring into yours, his gaze was intense, you almost forgot that your family was here, until your father spoked once again. "You have no right to tell her what she can or can't do. I am her father, what she do is my decision, until she gets married." Stranger looked at him and laughed, "Well.. I don't care. I say, that she can decide for herself, what she wants. And if I were you, I would shut your mouth and behave well, before I make you." this wasn't just a threat, it was a promise. At this point, you wanted to cry from happiness, but on the other hand, you were still sceptical. How could you go with him? How could he take you away? One man against five. He looked very strong, but was he strong enough? You didn't want him to end up injured just because of you. As if he was reading your thoughts, he looked at you, and suddenly, you felt a huge way of power, which was coming from him. To this time, he was hiding his powerful aura, but now it was surrounding him. Confusion and fear was visible on the faces of your father, uncle and cousins, but you were calm, you felt safe, for first time in your life. And exactly at this moment you felt it. You felt the bond between you and the male, who was standing beside you and holding you, know protectively around your waist. He smiled at you kindly, "This makes a lot of things easier." It was surprising that you were able to recover from the shock so quickly and you even manage to respond, "You.. you knew." More than a question, it was a statement. "From the moment you crashed into me, but I didn't want to scare you." he sounded honestly, so you nodded and smiled at him once again. "I didn't dare to dream about finding you," your words were quiet, so only he could hear them. In the response, he brushed his lips against your ear, before whispering "And I was dreaming about finding for almost five hundred years, my darling." This romantic moment was interrupted by your uncle, who tried to step up to you, he wanted to grab your hand so he could pull you away, fortunately, he wasn't successful. Stranger was keeping his promise, in a second your uncle was before you on his knees screaming from pain. "Don't you dare to touch my mate." You looked at your mate, stepped closer to his embrace. It worked, your uncle stopped screaming and after he could move, he ran to other males from your family, who were now more terrified than ever. It gave you a sense of satisfaction, but you didn't want to look at them longer than it was needed, "Can we go now? Please." You asked your mate, he replied by giving you the brightest smile you have ever seen and nodded.

You didn't glance back at your family and he didn't too. Your mate was powerful and they knew it. They weren't dumb, it was clear that at this point, trying to stop you would be a dead wish. You left them in the dark behind you, as you followed your mate hand in hand to the little hill. "Even though I plan on calling you my darling for the rest of our lives, can you tell me your name?" you almost slapped your forehead, after all this and you still did not introduce yourself. "My name is Y/N.. What's yours?" you asked, as you stopped on the small hill, where were you headed. "I am Rhysand," your breath hitched. "Rhysand? Isn't that name of the High lord of the Night court?" it was all logical. He wore expensive clothes, he was very powerful.. You were surprised that it didn't occur to you earlier. You were once again shocked and your mate, Rhysand, smiled gently at you. "I know it is shocking. I probably should have said it to you, but honestly.. I didn't know when, this all happened so fast.." after he said that, you started laughing, Rhysand was looking at you, not quite expecting this reaction, but you shrugged and kept smiling. "I just find it funny. My family wanted me to get High lord to fuck me tonight.. And know they don't even know my mate is High lord himself." And he is not only High lord, he is the strongest High lord, who was ever born. "When I think about it now, I regret not introducing myself more properly." you couldn't agree more with him. "Well. they will find out, I suppose. But honestly.. I don't want to think about them more right know. I just want to go to your home." tiredness started to take over you. "To our home," Rhysand corrected you with happiness in his voice, winnowing you away. To your new home.. to Velaris, city of starlight.

#rhysand x reader #acotar #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #rhysand fanfic #night court #acotar imagine #rhysand imagine #rhys x reader

[chr0macide]

Break In: The Novelette (Fanfic)

Part 2 is out

BOOM FIRST TUMBLR POST. I am currently normal about the Roblox Break In series so I decided to try and recreate it as a short story. This is my first time writing anything seriously for fun so I'm sure the pacing is all kinds of fucked up but I did enjoy making it lol. I tried to follow the game's storyline as closely as possible but I also took a few creative liberties and tried to give the characters more personality, not sure how well it worked though lol. This is just the first Break In but I might also do this to Break In 2 as well, probably won't happen in the immediate future though. This thing is about 9,500 words. If you have any feedback/notice errors please do comment :)

Chapter I – Silent House

An old coupe trundled down the road of a quaint suburban neighborhood. Four kids were crammed uncomfortably inside it. One of them reached into his bag of chips, elbowing his younger sister next to him as he did so.

“Ugh. Watch it, Hadrian,” she grumbled.

“You watch it,” Hadrian replied as he shoved the chips into his mouth. The girl reached over to steal one out of the bag. Hadrian slapped her hand away.

“You jerk!” she shrieked, swinging her teddy bear into Hadrian’s face. Hadrian grabbed a handful of his sister’s dark hair and pulled. The two older kids in the car groaned as their younger siblings began bickering and jostling everyone else around.

“Hadrian. Stephanie. Cut it out,” warned the older sister. The younger kids quieted down, but only slightly. “I’m serious! Prince, tell them to stop,” she said to the driver.

The car ground to a halt. “Monica, it’s fine. We’re here,” said the older brother. He removed the key from the ignition. The engine made a worrisome rattling sound as it shut off. He grabbed the handle of the car door next to him and jiggled it. The door was stuck. “Damn this old shitbox,” he muttered as he forced it open.

The four kids squeezed out and breathed in the fresh air. “Finally,” said Stephanie. Prince walked around the car and popped the trunk open, removing the family’s only suitcase.

They’d parked in front of a modest two-story house. It was old and the paint was starting to peel, but at least it looked cozy on the inside.

The front door of the neighboring house creaked open. Out stepped an older man with sunglasses. Uncle Pete. After Prince and Monica had managed to get custody of their siblings, they all knew they had to get away from their parents’ house.

Pete was wealthy. He owned more than a few properties. He’d agreed to let them stay here for free. They weren’t sure why he owned two houses right next to each other. Old people were weird sometimes, but they weren’t complaining.

Prince waved at Uncle Pete. “Evening, Pete!” he called out. Pete just smiled and waved back.

“He’s, uh, usually nonverbal,” Monica explained to her younger siblings. “Anyway. Let’s get inside,” she suggested.

Prince stuck his hand under the welcome mat and fished out a keychain. He tried to jam several different keys into the lock before the door opened. Everyone stepped inside.

“It’s musty,” Stephanie complained. Hadrian made a beeline for the couch in the living room as he shoved another handful of chips into his face. He collapsed onto it and proceeded to ignore everyone.

“It’s not that bad,” Monica claimed. Truthfully, there was a slight odor in the house, but that was probably just because no one had aired the place out for a while. “Come on, let’s open these,” she said to Stephanie as she unlatched one of the windows.

Prince inspected the kitchen. They hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping yet, so the cupboards were barren. He took out his phone. “Pizza, anyone?” he called out to the others. They yelled their approval from the other rooms.

“Fine!”

“Sure!”

Prince punched a string of digits into the number pad and put the phone to his ear. “Is this Builder Brothers Pizza? OK, we’ll have a large pineapple—”

“NO!” bellowed Hadrian from the living room.

Prince rolled his eyes. “Fine. A large pepperoni as well,” he added.

Monica called out to him from the other room. “Prince! Get over here!” she said. Prince finished up the call and followed her voice until he was standing before a door with a large padlock affixed to it. Monica and Stephanie turned to him.

“This door looks cool. Open it,” Stephanie demanded.

Prince squinted at the padlock. “I don’t know… Pete probably locked it for a reason.”

“What, are you scared?” the girl joked. “You can lock it again if there’s a monster inside.”

The eldest brother pursed his lips. He wasn’t worried about monsters, but he’d heard rumors of growing criminal activity around this neighborhood. Although…

Prince rifled through the pockets of his cargo shorts until he located the keychain. He found the right key and inserted it into the padlock. It clicked open and fell to the ground with a dull thunk. Prince gently opened the door.

There were concrete steps leading down into a basement. They couldn’t see anything through the darkness, but the cold, stagnant air rushed out over them.

“That’s ominous,” Monica remarked.

Stephanie grinned in excitement and took a step inside, but Prince put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “No, Steph. It’s too dark to see anything in there. You’ll get hurt,” Prince told her. Steph stuck out her lower lip and pouted, but she didn’t try to run inside again. Prince shut the door.

The doorbell rang. The pizza was here. At the same time, Hadrian yelled at everyone from the living room again. “Guys! There’s breaking news on the TV!”

“Coming,” Prince yelled back. “You guys go ahead. I’m gonna get the food,” he told the girls.

Prince opened the front door. It was almost dark outside, and starting to rain, too.

“Sup,” said the delivery guy. Prince took a small step backwards. The guy was pretty big. “Two large pizzas?”

“Yeah,” Prince confirmed. He took the pizza boxes and set them aside before he rummaged through his cargo shorts again for his wallet. He opened it. The family had been low on cash ever since they left their parents’ place. He handed a $20 note to the delivery guy, but he continued to look at Prince expectantly. “Uh… no tip this time. Sorry. That’s all I got right now,” Prince admitted, averting his eyes.

The delivery guy threw up his arms in disbelief. “Dude, are you for real?” he questioned.

“Sorry,” Prince apologized again.

The pizza guy shoved the bill into his pocket. He turned around and trudged over to his motorcycle. “This is my livelihood, man,” he muttered. Prince fidgeted with his wallet guiltily as the guy sped off.

Nonetheless, Prince picked up the pizza boxes and brought them into the living room. Right as he set them down on the coffee table, there was a clap of thunder. The lights in the house blinked out abruptly. The TV flickered off.

Monica glanced outside. The streetlights were also off. There was a power outage.

Everyone looked out the window and saw Uncle Pete’s silhouette leave his house through the back door. He ran a cable to a box outside. He ran another one from the box to their own house. The box hummed to life.

“Oh, it’s a generator,” Monica figured. The lights didn’t turn on, but the TV did. Pete noticed everyone staring at him through the window. He waved at them again before running back into his home.

They turned to the TV and started eating their pizza as the news reporter began speaking. The screen showed a gang of mobsters wearing fine suits and tuxedos, their faces obscured by comedy masks. They were dumping a barrel of some unknown liquid into a storm drain. The picture appeared to have been taken through somebody’s broken windowpane.

The Purge has Begun, Villains on the Loose, read the headline. “This is not a drill. Agents of the mafia are roaming the streets,” said the news anchor. The image on the screen shifted. A short video played of a second group of mobsters smashing someone’s car window with his crowbar. They dragged a man out. One of them raised a gun to the civilian’s head, but the video was cut off before anything else happened.

“Goddamn,” muttered Prince.

“Do not engage these fugitives under any circumstances. There have been 19 confirmed deaths and many more confirmed injuries so far. Keep doors locked and windows closed at all times,” the news anchor continued.

Another image appeared on the screen. “Their leader is Larry Clockturn,” said the news anchor.

Monica stifled a laugh at the mob boss’s appearance. A grey beard hid the lower half of his face. He was old, and he definitely dressed like it. Bowler hats were not in fashion. There was a domino mask over his eyes. He wore a violet waistcoat with a rose affixed to the lapel over his black undershirt. A peculiar golden crowbar was in his hand.

The image switched to a mugshot of Larry. Monica stopped laughing. “Wait, that’s not a person,” she said. Now that they were looking at him up close, she realized that his skin was unnaturally shiny. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the dark and his face seemed stiff and lifeless.

“Is he a robot, or something?” asked Stephanie.

“I don’t know… he looks more like an automaton,” Monica replied.

Stephanie looked at her funny. “Is there a difference?”

“Well, yeah,” said Monica. “At least, I think so. Robots use electricity, but automatons have engines or something-”

Hadrian shushed her as the news anchor continued talking. “If you see this entity, run away and hide. Larry Clockturn is considered by authorities to be an extremely dangerous serial murderer. Do not engage him under any circumstances. Special forces have been dispatched to regulate the situation. I repeat, this is not a drill.”

There was static as the program ended. A standby screen appeared on the TV. Nobody spoke at first.

“That shit is wild,” said Hadrian, deadpan. Stephanie peered through the window nervously. “I told you we should have gone to Bloxburg!” she hissed to Prince.

“And I told you, Steph, we don’t have that kind of money.”

“Guys. Be quiet.” Monica was the one staring out the window now, but the streetlights were still off. If there were any mobsters creeping around outside, she couldn’t tell. “Can’t see shit. Maybe they don’t know we’re here, either… let’s just go upstairs.”

Prince grabbed the suitcase he’d left by the front door. He partially unzipped it and felt around inside until he found the flashlight, then switched it on and held it in front of him as he lugged the bag up the stairs. The others followed him from behind until he came to the bedroom. He dropped the bag just inside.

“Phew.” Prince was too tired to unpack, and now probably wasn’t the best time, anyway. He cautiously made his way to the window at the back of the room. It might have been his imagination, but he could almost see moonlight glinting on mobsters’ white purge masks. He drew the curtains. “Let’s just hit the sack,” he said to the other kids.

They were in for a rude awakening.

Chapter II – Broke In

The kids awoke to the sound of shattering glass. Stephanie sat bolt upright and screamed. She fell out of her bed and rolled underneath it, still clutching her teddy.

A mobster had smashed the only window in the room with his crowbar and was now climbing inside. The other three kids jumped up and scrambled away from him. He planted his shiny black shoes on the floor, brushed some glass shards off his tuxedo, and brandished his crowbar at the kids, laughing.

“G’day, cunts,” he greeted them, tipping his fedora at them wryly. He started towards them.

It was only one guy. The kids whirled around, searching for something to defend themselves with. There was nothing except for Prince’s baseball bat… but it was still in the suitcase. Monica ran to the front of the room and shoved the bag flat onto the floor. She started to unzip it.

Meanwhile, the mobster raised his crowbar to bash Prince’s brains in, but Hadrian had skirted around until he was behind the guy. He kicked the back of his leg. The thug folded, eliciting a giggle from the boy, but it was promptly cut short as the mobster shot to his feet and grabbed him around the throat. “Little shit.” He lifted his crowbar again as he throttled Hadrian with one hand.

Monica had the suitcase open. She dug through it, throwing the clothes aside until she found Prince’s chrome baseball bat. She tossed it to him.

Prince caught the bat and turned to the mobster again. “Get away from Hadrian, you asshole!” he yelled as he swung as hard as he could.

There was a sharp ding as the bat connected head-on with the side of the mafioso’s skull. His head was jerked to the side by the impact. He released Hadrian and crumpled to the ground, barely conscious.

Monica rushed towards Hadrian and hugged him. “Are you OK?” she asked, fussing over her younger brother.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Hadrian replied as he pushed her away, but his voice was wavering a little. He rubbed his neck. The mobster’s grip had left a red mark around it.

Stephanie finally crawled out from under her bed. “What do we do now?” she whispered, staring wide-eyed at the insensible mafioso.

Prince walked over to him cautiously. “We should… uh…”

He didn’t want to kill a guy in front of two young kids. Certainly not his own siblings. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill anyone at all. His eyes fell upon the broken window.

“We should… just push him back out through the window. Yeah. It’s not that far to the ground. He’ll be fine,” finished Prince hesitantly. He grabbed the mobster’s feet. Monica grabbed him under the arms. They hauled his nearly unconscious body to the window.

They draped the mobster over the windowsill. Prince gave him a little push. He slid out rather gently and grunted in pain as he hit the ground outside. Now he was really knocked out.

Prince and Monica took a peek over the sill. He was already surrounded by a few of his fellow mafiosos. They glanced up at the teenagers, faces unreadable through their masks. They started to drag their unconscious accomplice into the shadows, where Prince spied his own car. The hood was open. The engine was gone. Looked like they wouldn’t be leaving this place anytime soon.

“Shit. We need to do something before they come back,” whispered Prince, pulling away from the window.

Monica squinted as she looked around the bedroom. She opened the door to the walk-in closet. “There’re some wood planks in here. Maybe we can board up the window…?” she suggested.

“We can board up all the windows,” Prince told her… “except for this one,” he added, nodding at the broken pane. “We’ll use that to see outside.” He retrieved some tools from the suitcase. Monica had told him to leave them behind when they’d moved out of their parents’ house—they were heavy—but now she was glad that he’d packed them anyway.

Prince dragged the planks out of the closet and left them in a pile. He picked up a hammer and went to nail one of the boards over a window at the end of the hall. He swore as he hit his thumb. “Fuck.” The sun was peeking over the horizon, but it was still barely light enough to see.

Monica and Hadrian started boarding up the other windows. They spent all day securing the place, and it was dark again before they knew it. They were all making a lot of noise, but there was nothing they could do about that.

Unfortunately for them, the sound attracted some unwanted attention.

“This was a shit idea.” Hadrian glanced through the gaps in the boarded window. There were more than a few eyes glinting in the darkness outside, glaring at them. “Now they know we’re in here,” he told Prince.

“They already knew we were in here, dumbass. A purger broke through the window and tried to kill us, remember?”

“Oh… yeah. I guess you’re right.”

With all the windows boarded up, there was nothing to do except meander around the house. Hadrian went to the living room and thought about turning the TV on, but he wasn’t in the mood.

He looked at the leftover pizza on the coffee table. He was hungry, but it had been sitting out all night. The power was still gone. The refrigerator was useless.

Hadrian sighed. No eating today.

As he reentered the foyer, Hadrian heard a scratching noise coming from the other side of the basement door. He panicked initially, but when he listened closer… was that mewling?

Hadrian stepped closer. He put a hand on the doorknob and opened the basement door, but only a little. An orange tabby cat slunk through the gap.

“Have you been in there the whole time?” Hadrian questioned, staring at the cat in disbelief. He reached down to pet it, but the cat batted his hand away and hissed. It ran past him and darted through the gap between Prince’s legs—he’d been watching from behind.

The cat jumped up onto a cabinet in the foyer and stared at Hadrian disdainfully. “Tch. Cats are lame anyway,” he muttered as he shut the basement door again. “Wait… Prince, do you hear that?”

There was a strange noise outside. Tires screeched along asphalt to a standstill. There was a loud electrical bang as a pair of headlamps were abruptly switched on outside, flooding the living room with a bright light.

A van had pulled in front of the house, facing them and shining its headlights into the room. Six mobsters got out and stared at the house silently. One of them made eye contact with Prince as he peered through the boarded window. The teenager backed away. He beckoned Hadrian to follow him upstairs.

“Prince? What’s happening?” Monica asked when she saw him.

“More gangsters. Six.” Prince paused as he looked outside again. “They’re just standing there…”

Prince’s brow furrowed in thought. It felt like ages before he spoke again. “I’m staying awake tonight. The rest of you sleep,” he told everyone as he picked up his bat and paced around the room. “I’ll wake you up if something happens.”

“Prince, are you sure? We should sleep in shifts,” offered Monica.

“No. It’s fine,” the eldest refused, waving the suggestion away.

Everyone else got into bed, but Prince walked over to the broken bedroom window again. The mobsters were still staring at the house intently. He stared back, determined. It was going to be another long night.

Chapter III – Tick Tock

It was dead silent. Light from the mobster van’s headlamps was still streaming into the house, but they hadn’t tried to get inside. Prince leaned against the wall, nodding off with his baseball bat in hand. He’d been awake for hours. His eyes began to close.

The sound of glass breaking pierced the night once again. Prince snapped to attention. He heard wood splinter and nails clink against the floor as the mafiosos pried the boards off a window downstairs. He opened his mouth, about to shout for the other kids to wake up, but he instead decided to shake them awake instead. They’d lose the element of surprise if the mobsters figured out they weren’t sleeping.

“Monica, wake up,” Prince hissed, shaking Monica in her bed. Her eyes snapped open.

“What? Did they break in?” Monica asked. She rolled out of bed hurriedly and grabbed Stephanie, dragging her off her bed as well. “Steph, we have to get up. There’re more bad guys.”

“They’re downstairs. Maybe we can get the jump on them,” Prince whispered as he shook Hadrian awake as well. He hesitated before pointing to the hammers they’d discarded after fortifying the house. “Grab one,” he said to Monica and Hadrian. He didn’t want to kill anyone… but these mobsters weren’t leaving them with many options.

Prince grimaced as Monica picked up a hammer. “Actually… Monica, you take my bat. I’ll use a hammer,” he decided.

“Huh? Why?” Monica wondered.

Prince shrugged. “I don’t want you to have to kill anyone,” he admitted.

Monica shot him a look. “I’ll be fine, Prince. Worry about yourself.”

There were footsteps below. The mob was inside. Prince motioned for everyone to follow him.

The mafiosos ascended the stairs. They slunk down the hall. The one at the front reached out to push the door open, hoping to attack a few feckless civilians in their sleep… but he saw nobody.

The door behind them opened instead. Monica buried her hammer in the nearest mobster’s cranium, then wrenched it out. Blood spattered against the wall next to his head, and then he fell onto the carpet with a soft thump, dead. The other mafiosos whipped around at the noise.

Five left.

Monica was clutching the hammer to her chest now, wide-eyed and shaking a little bit at what she had just done, so Hadrian pushed his way past her before the mobsters figured out what was happening. He swung his own hammer at the closest one. The mafioso had no time to raise his crowbar as Hadrian struck him in the forehead, cracking his purge mask. He slumped to the ground as well, knocked out.

Four.

Prince jumped out of the wardrobe and rushed out of the bedroom while the mobsters were facing away from it. One of them bashed his crowbar into Hadrian’s chest, who stumbled backwards, wheezing. Prince managed to strike the side of the aggressor’s head. It bounced off the wall next to him. He heard something break. Maybe the drywall. Maybe his skull.

Three.

Another mobster rushed Prince. He swiftly retreated into the bedroom until he was standing at the broken window. The mobster followed. As he lunged with his crowbar, Prince sidestepped and took the chance to grab the mafioso, hurling him through the window. He landed on the concrete with a sickening crunch and didn’t get up.

Two.

Monica came to her senses. It was just in time, too, because Hadrian was about to be ganged up on by the remaining invaders. Prince came out of the bedroom. “You go left. I go right,” he whispered to Monica. She nodded.

One of the mafiosos lashed out at Hadrian with his crowbar. He raised his weapon to defend himself, but the hammer was too small to block anything. Hadrian yelped as his forearm took the hit. He dropped his weapon as Monica brained the offending mobster.

One.

Prince raised his bat high above his head at the same time and brought it down on top of the other mafioso’s head.

Zero.

The kids stood in silence for a while, breathing heavily. They didn’t hear anyone else in the house. After a minute, Monica spoke.

“Steph, you can come out now,” she said. Stephanie emerged from the guest bedroom wordlessly and clung to her sister’s leg. Monica took Hadrian’s wounded forearm and prodded at the injury. He winced.

“I don’t feel a break. Maybe it’s just cracked. I left my first aid kit in the car,” Monica admitted nervously. She knew it wasn’t safe to go outside right now.

Prince pondered. “We can check the basement first. Maybe Pete left something useful in there,” he advised. He retrieved the flashlight from the bedside table and switched it on as the kids moved down to the first floor. They walked past the window that the mobsters had entered through. Wooden planks and shards of glass lay on the carpet. It crunched under their shoes as they stepped over it.

“Didn’t you leave this closed?” Prince asked Hadrian as he came to the basement, shining his light inside. The door was ajar. He quickly realized what a stupid idea it was to point the flashlight into it. There was a chance someone was lurking there. He turned it off.

Hadrian started backing away. “Yeah, I did… I think?” he whispered.

There were footsteps again. Loud ones.

“Shit,” said Prince.

Hadrian hesitated. “Wait, I think it’s just one guy. We could take him.” Indeed, only one pair of feet could be heard, and yet, the floor shook as the basement dweller began to climb the stairs.

“No! That guy sounds huge! Hide!” Prince whispered harshly, pulling Hadrian—who winced again as his forearm was jostled—along with him. They and the girls ran away from the basement door as silently as they could.

Prince put his hand on the sill of the broken window, about to jump outside, but he saw too many masked men in the shadows. He doubled back and whirled around, searching for somewhere to hide. There was only the storage cabinet in the kitchen. All four of them squeezed in. It was a tight fit. They almost couldn’t breathe, but they all froze as the trespasser reached the top of the basement stairs. Prince peered through the thin gap between the cabinet doors. The guy was so tall that he needed to duck underneath the doorframe. There was a faint ticking noise emanating from him.

The ground quaked with every step Larry Clockturn took. His golden LED eyes lit up in the dark. The glow glinted off of the violet mask on his eyes. He was far more daunting in person. As he walked near the shattered window, the moonlight illuminated his tarnished metal face and the steel wires that served as his beard.

He passed the open kitchen door. Monica saw a large wind-up key affixed to his back. I told you he was an automaton, she wanted to whisper, but this wasn’t a good time.

The mob boss walked past the kitchen and out of sight, but the kids heard his footsteps move to the stairwell. The first stair, decayed with age, splintered and caved under his weight. Larry cursed and swung his crowbar at the wall in anger, annihilating the plasterboard. He tried the second step. It groaned under his mass, but it held this time. He made his way to the second floor.

Prince hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, but now he was almost gasping for air as he pushed the cabinet doors open and darted towards the basement. The other kids ran after him.

He swore internally as he almost tripped on the first step. It was still dark in there. He turned on the flashlight just long enough to make it to the bottom.

It was chilly. The kids huddled together in the darkness.

“H-he knows we’re still in the house,” stammered Monica, voice shaking. “He was here when you shined the flashlight in the first time. He had to have seen it. What are we going to do?”

Prince said nothing. He was out of ideas. All they could do was shut up and hope Larry didn’t think to come back here.

But the mechanical ticking returned. Larry did come back.

The automaton’s silhouette appeared at the top of the stairwell. The light from his eyes, still glowing golden in the dark, faintly illuminated his face.

There was a tinny creak as Larry tilted his head, staring into the basement. It was pitch black inside. Maybe he couldn’t see them, the kids thought.

Larry’s lips parted into a malicious grin. Prince flinched in surprise. He hadn’t realized the mob boss could emote with his metal features… but he didn’t come inside. Instead, he turned from the basement door and walked away, his steel exterior clanking as he moved.

There was a loud crack as Larry forced the front door open instead of leaving through the window he’d broken.

“What an asshole,” Prince grumbled.

Monica touched Prince’s arm. “Why didn’t he come inside?” she wondered.

Prince shrugged. He didn’t know either.

“Maybe he’s playing with us.”

It wasn’t a comforting idea, but they didn’t hear Larry’s footsteps anymore, so…

“Turn the flashlight on. We have to search this place,” Monica told Prince. He did.

The shelves were cluttered with supplies and knickknacks Uncle Pete had left behind. Pete, Prince suddenly remembered. He hoped the guy was alright, but there was nothing he could do for his uncle right now.

A good portion of the items were littered across the floor as well. Larry and his mobsters had trashed the place. Prince swept the flashlight across the ground.

“There.”

He pointed to a discarded first aid kit.

Monica picked it up. “Thought we’d never catch a break.” she took a broken piece of shelf as well and assembled a makeshift splint for Hadrian’s forearm. It wasn’t pretty, but it would hold until they figured out how to get to a hospital.

In the meantime, Prince perched the flashlight on a shelf to rummage through some carboard boxes. “Oh my god. Finally,” he exclaimed as he pulled out a bag of cheese puffs from one of them. The box was full of junk food, but it felt like the kids had struck gold after having nothing to eat for a day and a half. They gorged themselves, but once they were full, they were unsure of what to do next.

Prince looked pensive. “We can’t stay down here,” he eventually said. They had no clue how long the purge was going to last, and they couldn’t subsist on their meager supply of junk food for long.

Monica didn’t say anything at first. Prince was right, but the streets were still teeming with every kind of criminal.

She had an idea.

Chapter IV – Delivery

“This is dumb as hell.”

“Just put it on,” urged Monica.

Prince finished buttoning up the tuxedo. He pulled the purge mask over his face.

They’d swiped the disguise off of a dead purger they’d left upstairs. Monica reached for the second mask that they’d looted, but Prince stopped her.

“Nope. You’re staying here,” he told her.

“You serious? You can’t go out there alone.”

“Yes the fuck I can. Besides, someone needs to stay with those two.” Prince motioned to Stephanie’s tiny form and Hadrian with his arm in a splint.

Monica sighed. “Fine… be careful.”

Prince picked up one of the dead mobsters’ crowbars. Monica took a step back and looked him up and down. “I think it’ll work. Just act casual,” she said.

 After peering outside, Prince grabbed the windowsill and vaulted over it. The mobsters lurking nearby didn’t even glance at him twice.

 The nearest convenience store was just up the road. Prince could see it from here, but as he started walking, his shoe slid on the ice beneath him. He almost fell. The wet asphalt had frozen overnight.

There was a loud guffaw from a group of mafiosos passing him by, but then one of them slipped on the ice as well and fell on his face. The other gangsters laughed even louder. “Man, shut y’all’s asses!” he hollered at them.

Prince had frozen in place for a few seconds, almost thinking he’d blown his cover, but he quickly regained his bearings. He left the gangsters to bicker amongst themselves. They seemed a lot less menacing when they weren’t trying to kill him.

As he continued towards the convenience store, Prince passed by the house of one of his neighbors. Of course, he hadn’t had a chance to meet them yet, but he still wondered if they were doing alright.

There was an earsplitting scream from inside the house, then a gunshot. The distant voice of a mobster reached Prince’s ears. “Aww, come on! I was gonna play with her first!”

Prince scrunched his face up in disgust under his mask. Nevermind. Fuck these guys.

He made it to the convenience store. The place had been nearly bled dry, but there was some fruit left in the produce crates. Prince opened the sack that he’d taken with him. He reached for an apple.

There were two mobsters sitting on the counter nearby. They turned their heads towards Prince. They were masked, but he could feel them giving him an odd look. He faltered, then grabbed the edge of the fruit crate, tipping the entirety of its contents into his sack. The mobsters looked away, losing interest.

Phew. Prince threw the sack over his shoulder and almost ran back to the house.

Monica met him at the basement door. Panic flashed through her mind until she realized it was Prince. “What did you get?” she asked as they returned to the basement.

“Fruit.”

“Lame,” said Stephanie.

Prince took his mask off and shoved an apple into her tiny hands. “No, it isn’t. You need it after eating all that junk food.” He didn’t notice the sound of a motorcycle pulling up to the front of the house.

There was commotion in the kitchen upstairs. Utensils and cookware clattered against the floor tiles.

Prince foisted his crowbar over his shoulder as he turned to the stairs. “I gotta say, I’m getting real tired of this shit,” he muttered to Monica before he returned to the ground floor.

As he reached the top of the staircase, he hesitated. This dude was kinda big, he thought as he scrutinized the person wrecking his kitchen. There was no time for Prince to change his mind, though—the mobster saw him.

“There you are.”

He sounded vaguely familiar, but Prince had no time to muse as the guy charged at him.

Prince responded in kind. He rushed at the mobster and raised his own crowbar to block the blow. There was a sharp clang as their weapons met.

It was almost like a sword duel, though not nearly as graceful. Prince was no trained fighter, but neither was the mafioso, apparently. He accidentally hooked a vase with his crowbar, sending it shattering against the floor. The opponents staggered around the foyer, neither of them gaining the upper hand at first

The mobster couldn’t get a hit in. He grew impatient and lunged forward. He swung too wide. Prince backpedaled away from the strike, and now, for an instant, his foe was wide open.

Prince delivered an uppercut to the mafioso’s face with his crowbar. The force of the strike knocked his mask askew.

The mafioso collapsed to the ground heavily, dazed and confused. “Ugh…”

Alright, Prince had absolutely met this guy before. He reached down and pulled the guy’s mask all the way off.

Prince stared.

“Dude, are you fucking kidding me?”

It was the pizza guy from a couple days ago. He sat up gingerly, rubbing his chin, and spat a glob of blood onto the carpet. “Shouldn’t have fuckin’ stiffed me, you asshole!”

Prince threw his arms up in exasperation, still gripping his crowbar. “I told you I didn’t have any more money! And you come into my house and trash the place over it? What is your problem?”

The delivery guy eyed Prince’s crowbar. He straightened his bowtie as he spoke. “OK, don’t be like that, man. A guy paid me to do it. You’re not the only one hurting for cash,” he said, pointing his finger at the boy. “The big metal dude,” he continued. “I’ve been running with the mafia for a while now, but this morning he shoved a crisp hundred into my hand and told me to come in here. Take you guys out. And, uh, he looked like he was gonna kill my ass if I said no, so… here I am, I guess.”

Prince glared at him for a moment. “Man, just get the hell out,” he said, pointing his crowbar at the open door.

The pizza guy looked outside. “Uh… actually, I think I’m gonna chill in here for a while.”

“Excuse me? No, you are not. You just tried to kill me,” Prince snapped.

The guy held up his hands in surrender. “The big guy is gonna fillet me like a fish when he finds out I didn’t get rid of you guys! I’m not going back out there,” he said. “Besides, he paid me in advance, man. I ain’t gotta do shit no more.”

Prince mulled it over. This guy wouldn’t get out of his house, but Prince definitely didn’t want to kill him, either.

“Whatever. Fine. What should I call you?” he asked.

The pizza guy stood up unsteadily. “Isaiah.”

 “OK, Isaiah, you said you’ve been running with the mob for a while. Any clue how we might get away from here without dying?” Prince asked.

Isaiah deliberated for a moment.

“The sewers. The mafia normally uses it to move around the city, but It’s empty now that they’re on the streets…” He paused again as he formulated a plan. “I overheard a li’l bit of intel. The national guard made it to 5th Street. We head in that direction. Get behind their lines, where it’s safe. Then we can exit the sewer. No sweat.”

Prince didn’t have any better ideas. “Fine. Get in here, man. Leave the crowbar,” he warned Isaiah as the ruffian reached for his fallen weapon. “No funny shit.”

“I wasn’t going to do shit,” he muttered as they descended into the basement.

The other three kids drew back suspiciously as they saw Isaiah. “Prince? Who is that?”

“He’s the pizza delivery guy,” Prince replied. “From the day we moved in, I mean. He’s…”

Prince gave Isaiah the side-eye.

“He’s chill,” he decided. “And he told me how we can get out of here. We’ll walk through the sewers until we meet the national guard.”

The other kids glanced at each other. “Unless you guys would rather stay here…?” Prince added. They all heard a bout of submachine gunfire in the house across the street.

“Nope. Let’s get out of here,” Monica said. “Tomorrow morning?”

Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “Why are we waiting?”

“It’s midnight. We gotta get some sleep,” Prince said.

Isaiah’s eyebrows crept even higher. “You guys have been sleeping at night this whole time? You can’t be doing that shit during the killing purge! How are you people still alive?”

The kids murmured inaudibly. They didn’t really know, either.

Isaiah shook his head incredulously. “Whatever. I don’t know where you got that disguise, Prince, but there had better be more. Your buddies will get jumped in no time if they go out looking like that,” he said.

Prince retrieved some more suits and a couple of crowbars from the dead mobsters upstairs. The second floor was starting to smell really bad. He was glad they were leaving soon.

The disguises were a little ill-fitting on Monica and Hadrian, but Stephanie wasn’t going to be able to wear one at all.

“What are you going to do about her?” Isaiah asked.

Prince scratched his head as he thought. “I saw a manhole cover real close by. We’ll just have her walk in the middle of us ‘til we make it into the sewer.”

“If you say so.”

The group stepped out. Stephanie stood in the middle of the bunch, hopefully obscuring her from the mobsters’ sight.

They had almost made it to the manhole cover when they heard a crash in the distance. A shrill alarm pierced their ears. Someone had smashed one of the convenience store’s windows open and set it off. The group turned to see who was responsible.

They saw a shape with glowing eyes through the glass door of the store as he strode into view. Larry downed a can of cola before crushing it in his hand and throwing it aside. He turned to look at the street.

The automaton looked blasé as he surveyed the darkened neighborhood, but his expression shifted to one of suspicion as his eyes fell on the group. Then he looked furious.

Their disguises hadn’t fooled him. Larry kicked the door open and started towards the group.

“God fucking damn it!” roared Isaiah as he hauled the manhole cover off the ground and thrust it aside.

“Get in!”

Chapter V – Clockturn

Everyone clambered down the ladder and into the sewer.

Stephanie held her nose. “It smells really bad in here.”

Something heavy tumbled into the manhole after them, landing on Prince’s head. “Ow! What the hell?” he exclaimed.

It was the same cat that had come out of the basement earlier, and it started yowling as Prince pried it off his scalp.

“Guys, he’s coming! Fucking run!” Isaiah shouted at the group. He’d broken into a sprint as soon as his feet touched the floor. “And shut that cat up! It’s gonna give our location away.”

Prince set the cat on the ground. Thankfully, it stopped screeching, but it did follow them.

The kids raced after Isaiah. “Do you know where you’re going?” Prince panted.

“Yeah, I’ve been down here before. Just stay behind me,” Isaiah assured him. “Take this right!”

As they rounded the corner, Monica risked a glimpse behind her. The concrete ground fractured beneath Larry as he jumped into the manhole after them.

The corridors twisted and turned as Isaiah led everyone further into the sewers. He barreled through iron gates in their path. Some of the paths had collapsed and been replaced by flimsy timber.

Hadrian stumbled. A board slipped out from under him. He was about to fall into the fetid sewage, but Prince reached to fish him out.

Isaiah got there before him. Hadrian’s shoe had just touched the water when the mafioso forcefully pulled him back onto the walkway.

“Hey, be careful! His arm is hurt!” scolded Monica. Isaiah simply jabbed his finger at Hadrian’s foot.

Hadrian wiggled his toes. The tip of his shoe was gone.

“I forgot to let you guys know. I saw some other mobsters pouring something into the storm drains,” Isaiah explained as he continued to run. “Whatever it was, it was corrosive as hell, ‘cause the drain stared melting. Don’t fall in there,” he finished, pointing at the water channel.

Isaiah veered left into a round clearing in the sewer. He came face to face with another gate, but he almost bashed his head into it as it refused to open. The kids skidded to a stop as he grabbed the bars and rattled the door. “This wasn’t locked before!” he shouted in frustration.

The mobster wedged his crowbar through the edge of the gate and tried to pry it open, but it wouldn’t budge. The kids glanced at each other anxiously. “Maybe Larry doesn’t know where we went,” Monica whispered.

No such luck.

They heard the ticking of his cogs before they saw him.

Larry rounded the corner. He was moving at a leisurely pace, but his footsteps were still fairly thunderous as he strolled across the improvised wooden bridge.

The automaton came to a halt as he reached the other side of the walkway. The kids could only stare at him. He was blocking their only escape.

Larry put a hand on his crowbar, leaning on it like a cane. He ran a hand through his wiry beard. His LED eyes swiveled as he looked the group over.

A lanky delivery boy, down on his luck.

Some high school dropout with a hero complex and his doormat of a sister.

A kid with a broken arm. His youngest sibling, hugging her teddy bear to her chest.

Larry laughed to himself and booted the wooden board behind him. There was a low sizzle as it fell into the waterway and began to disintegrate. The kids were trapped. His gaze shifted back to the group.

“What do you think you’re doing, Isaiah?” said Larry in his metallic peal.

His voice sent a chill up the kids’ spines. It was sonorous and hollow, filling the entire corridor.

Isaiah didn’t reply. He only yanked his crowbar out of the still-locked gate. It was futile. He walked to the front of the group.

If Isaiah wouldn’t talk, Larry would. “It’s not too late for you to follow orders, young man. Get rid of them.”

Isaiah didn’t move.

The crime lord raised an eyebrow. “Interesting decision.” Larry lifted his crowbar with one hand and rested it over his shoulder as he advanced on Isaiah.

“Hold on, boss, I-”

Isaiah cut himself off as Larry swung his crowbar. The mobster managed to duck under the blow so that it connected with the wall instead. The stone bricks cracked under Larry’s strength.

There was no reasoning with this guy.

No one knew how they were going to take Larry down, but he couldn’t go after all of them at once. Everyone scattered across the room, but the littlest was too slow.

Larry grinned as he reached down and snatched Stephanie by her tiny arm.

“No!” cried Prince. He rushed towards the automaton.

The cat was quicker. Prince had almost forgotten it was there, but it leapt onto Larry’s face, scratching and hissing. He cursed and released Stephanie. Prince pulled her away and swept her into his arms as the mob boss reached for the feline instead.

Its claws did nothing except piss Larry off. He ripped the cat off his face and flung it aside as he straightened his tie. It hit the wall before sliding to the floor and going limp, still mewling pitifully.

Stephanie normally would have begun crying by now, but she must have known it was no use this time. She gazed down at the teddy bear in her hands. It was the only toy she’d been able to take with her when the siblings had left their parents. Its voice box didn’t work anymore, but she turned it over and looked at the pull-string attached to it. She looked up at the golden wind-up key on Larry’s back. Still in Prince’s arms, she reached for it.

Stephanie twisted the wind-up key counterclockwise with all her diminutive might while Larry’s back was still turned. A steely bang sounded from inside him, followed closely by the jarring noise of an engine backfiring. The automaton flinched violently. He nearly toppled over, but he caught himself and whirled around, lunging with his crowbar furiously as he did. Prince backpedaled hurriedly, but the very edge of the crowbar just barely caught Stephanie’s cheek, ripping off a layer of skin.

“Bastard!” roared Prince. He set Stephanie down behind him. She ran into her sister’s arms. Monica steered her over to Hadrian before she went to confront their aggressor.

The group had figured out Larry’s weak point, and now he was a lot more wary. Prince, Isaiah, and Monica circled around him, but he’d turn and lunge again whenever one of them took so much as a step towards him. The three comrades glanced at each other. They all knew one of them had to engage the automaton while another tried to reach his key, but none of them particularly wanted to be stomped into red paste.

Before anyone grew audacious enough to rush Larry, the kids heard yet another odd noise. There was a resonant clang as the automaton’s steel plates snapped apart along the seams. A deafening mechanical whirr filled the sewer. All of a sudden, there was a cyclone of buzzsaws where he’d been standing a second ago.

Larry charged at Prince, who had to dive out of the way to avoid being sliced to gory ribbons.

Blood sprayed against the stone brick wall. Prince cried out as he hit the cold floor. He’d been too slow. The blades had caught him anyway. Fortunately, his arm was still attached, but there were several deep lacerations. Larry had sliced him all the way to the bone.

A pool of red bloomed under Prince as he collapsed. Monica rushed over to where she’d dropped her first aid kit. With wounds like that, he was going to bleed to death if she didn’t do something, but she couldn’t get near Prince while Larry was standing between them.

The automaton’s buzzsaws ground to a stop and clicked back into his casing. His plates snapped shut again as he stood above Prince.

Larry had his back to Hadrian now. He was so close. He had to do something. Hadrian ripped the splint off his own arm. He knew he was probably about to make his injury worse, but that was far better than dying here.

As Larry raised his crowbar to finish Prince off, he felt a pair of hands on his wind-up key.

Hadrian turned the key counterclockwise. Larry grunted in pain again as even more of his gears jammed, but he swung his weapon behind himself immediately this time.

Hadrian reeled as the crowbar struck his torso. He gasped for breath as he hit the concrete. Great. Now he had both a cracked forearm and a cracked rib cage. Larry turned away from Prince, heading for Hadrian instead.

Monica bolted to Prince’s side and started tying a torniquet around his bleeding arm. As she tended to him, Isaiah stepped in between Larry and Hadrian.

Larry narrowed his eyes. “Get the fuck outta the way, kid.”

Isaiah didn’t.

Larry scoffed and brought his crowbar down upon Isaiah with one hand. Isaiah gripped his own weapon as hard as he could with both hands and held it up to shield himself.

Their weapons clashed. Isaiah staggered, but he managed to remain on his feet. His crowbar vibrated in his hands with the aftershock of Larry’s blow, but he maintained his grip on it.

Larry raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised. Perhaps Isaiah wasn’t as lanky as he’d thought. He shook his head at the mobster.

“Little shit. I gave you a job when you were about to be homeless, and this is how you repay me?”

Larry attacked again, grasping his crowbar with both hands now. Isaiah did lose his weapon this time. It skittered across the concrete and into the corrosive water.

Monica sprang for Larry’s wind-up key. He swung his crowbar into her face without looking at her. She flew back and hit the ground, unconscious. Prince dragged himself towards her. He was starting to become lightheaded from the blood loss.

Larry swung again. With nothing to guard himself with, Isaiah took the hit squarely in the chest. He crumpled to the floor, winded.

The automaton circled him. He gave the mafioso a kick in the ribs with his steel-toed shoe.

“Come on. Is that all you can take?”

Isaiah choked out a couple of choice words. “Fuck… yourself…”

Larry scowled and opened his mouth to speak, but the cat hauled itself from the stone floor and launched itself at his face again, caterwauling and clawing with renewed fervor.

That was all Prince needed. He scrambled to his feet and leapt at Larry’s key. He grabbed it with his uninjured arm and wrenched it counterclockwise one more time.

Something rattled inside the automaton. His gears shuddered to a halt. There was a hiss as steam escaped from the vents on his face. His glowing golden eyes blinked off.

Larry lurched forwards and hit the ground with a crash, deactivated.

Epilogue

Prince opened his eyes blearily. He instantly shut them again. The lights were unpleasantly bright. He tried to shield his face, but the ensuing jolt of pain jarred him fully awake. Oh, right. He’d taken a buzzsaw to the arm.

He used his other arm to cover his eyes as he opened them. Prince was lying in a hospital bed.

“How’s it going, man?” said a voice from the left.

The boy turned his head. Isaiah was in the next bed.

“Is everyone else alright?” Prince rasped.

“Yeah, looks like it. Hadrian and Monica are right over there,” Isaiah told him, gesturing with his head to his left. “And there’s the li’l one,” he added.

Prince looked at the bed across from him. Stephanie was clambering down. She ran over to Prince and grabbed his hand, bouncing excitedly. “You’re OK!” she exclaimed.

“Hey, Steph. Ow. Don’t do that,” Prince croaked as Stephanie jostled his bandaged arm, but he was smiling. “How did we get here?”

Isaiah let his head fall back onto his pillow, brow furrowed in thought. “Uh. You beat the big dude. Or disabled him, at least. I don’t know. You passed out right after, and then… I think I heard Stephanie crying for a while. Someone above us heard it, too. They lowered a ladder into the sewer. Yeah, there was another manhole above us, apparently, but no ladder attached. Hah,” Isaiah laughed shortly. “They thought we were mafiosos at first, but I guess they figured out we weren’t when they saw Larry on the ground. And then they brought us here.”

The hinges on the hospital door squealed as a nurse walked in. “Oh! Some of you are awake,” she observed. “Don’t disturb your big bro right now, young lady. He’s going to need a lot of rest,” the nurse told Stephanie as she carried her back over to her own hospital bed.

“As for you…” the nurse examined her clipboard. “Prince Aguilar? Emancipated minor…” she read. “I’ve been told that you got into a fight with Larry Clockturn. You’re all lucky to be alive.”

“You ain’t lying,” Isaiah muttered. The nurse shot him a look.

“You should all be fine once we’re done patching you up,” the nurse continued. “But…” She checked her clipboard again. “Monica Aguilar appears to have taken quite the blow to the head. We’re monitoring her, but we aren’t going to be able to assess if there’s any brain damage until she wakes up.”

Prince sat up. “Brain damage?”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. We would be able to tell by now if it was serious,” the nurse assured Prince, urging him back down onto the bed. “At most, she has a concussion. She’ll be alright.”

Prince lay down again gingerly. “OK… I guess.” He was silent for a moment… but he was also curious.

“What happened to Larry?”

“Larry Clockturn? The police are handling that. They haven’t given me many details, I’m afraid,” the nurse told Prince. “All I know is that they haven’t moved his body yet. And the so-called ‘purge’ is over, by the way. Most of the mafia turned tail and ran after they figured out Clockturn was gone,” she laughed. “National guard didn’t encounter much resistance after that.”

Prince didn’t ask anything else. It was the nurse’s turn, now.

“It says here that four of you are siblings. Prince, Monica, Hadrian, and Stephanie Aguilar. And Isaiah… Smith,” she said, walking over to Isaiah’s bed. “It is to my understanding that you are affiliated with the mafia.”

Isaiah’s eyes widened. “Uh, I mean, like-“

The nurse held up her hand to stop him. “I’m not a police officer, but don’t be surprised if they come in here to question you guys at some point. I just wanted to warn you about it, so you aren’t blindsided,” she explained.

“Yeah… yeah, OK. Cool,” said Isaiah, even though it was not at all cool.

The nurse nodded. “Well, that’s it for now,” she said as she turned to leave. “Just sit tight. The doctor will be along soon.”

Prince took a deep breath. Larry was deactivated. They were out of the sewers. The purge was over. They were in a hospital at last. Everything was fine again.

In the sewers, however, things were not so fine. Police tape lined the walls of the room Larry had collapsed in, cold and unmoving. Officers surrounded him.

One of them looked up at the manhole high above them. “We could airlift him…?”

“Through that tiny opening? I’m not so sure,” his Lieutenant responded. No one was certain about how they were going to get this colossus out of the sewer and into police custody.

“We might have to move him all the way through the tunnel. Into the nearest water-”

The officer was cut off and his head jerked back as a bullet pierced the middle of his forehead.

The other cops drew their service weapons. The round had come from the other side of the locked iron gate. They returned fire. So did their assailants.

There was no cover in the room. More officers dropped dead. One of them tried to speak into his radio. “Shots fired. All units to the 5th-”

He was shot dead as well before he could finish.

The Lieutenant glimpsed something through the metal bars of the gate. Something green and glowing. He fired reflexively. The round ricocheted off metal. He stared into the darkness, confused, but there was no time to ponder as bullets continued to whizz past his ears.

“We’re taking too many casualties! Fall back!” yelled the Lieutenant.

The remaining officers ran from the gate and disappeared around the bend of the tunnel, leaving Larry’s body behind.

The mobsters lowered their guns. Their leader, who had been watching from the back of the troupe, made her way to the iron gate. Her high heels clicked against the concrete. The sound echoed through the now-quiet passageway.

She towered above her cohorts. The lock on the gate broke easily as she raised her slender arm and forced it open with one hand.

The lady reached the felled automaton. She walked around his inert figure and clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Take him,” she ordered.

The mobsters, with some difficulty, lifted him up and carried him into the small speedboat they’d used to traverse the sewer’s water channels. The motor roared to life.

As the helmsman steered them back to the river outside, he glanced at his boss. “We’re not gonna reactivate him, Miss Gearwise?”

“No,” she answered shortly.

“Then… what are you going to do with him?”

The lady’s icy gaze fell on Larry. The corners of her metallic green lips curved up into a small smirk.

“I have a few ideas.”

#break in 2 #break in roblox #roblox break in #scary larry #scary mary #roblox #snnizanzniA FUCK YOU MARY LEAVE HIM ALONE #did you really read this post all the way through or nah

[lucydonato]

what do you think the "internalized" part means. answer quickly.

okay so let me help you out real quick. when I said I was "projectile vomiting" about her going out with "a woman who isn't me" I was not LITERALLY projectile vomiting. I was simply employing this rhetorical device known as "hyperbole." it's like an exaggeration, sometimes people use it for comedic purposes, as was the case here, when I was having a right little giggle about how a girl who I once believed to be straight was NOT straight, yet this did not change anything about my secret crush. because it's kind of ironic (that's another rhetorical device that gets used for comedy a lot)

I literally have not done anything except talk about it on tumblr but luckily I am not your friend so it's not your problem ✌︎︎

what part of "you don't know me, you don't know her, and you don't know the 10+ years of history between us" did you not understand? it is absolutely not the same thing because I am not making MY feelings into HER problem. I am venting about them (sometimes even humorously, which seems to have flown over your head) ON MY OWN PERSONAL BLOG. WHICH SHE DOES NOT READ. do you also oppose the concept of keeping a diary?

there is clearly NO explanation I can give about this situation that you'll approve of, since you've already decided that you have "the ick" from it, and I really don't care if you think I sound a certain way. I know my life, I know my feelings, and I know my friendship with her. you don't. end of story.

okay now THIS part reminds me of an anon I got a while ago that said I was probably "a nightmare to have in class" or something to that effect. I have no idea if you're the same person but I do know that I said back then that I didn't appreciate those comments and I don't appreciate them now either. yes I DO take my classes seriously, and I DO want to be successful, and I DO (anxiously) wait for grades to be posted, and I DO get annoyed when other people cause distractions for the rest of us. and sometimes I even have the audacity to complain and joke about it on my own blog. fucking sue me. do you really think that every time I post a screenshot with the caption "give me my grades boy" I'm being completely serious? do you think I'm banging down the professor's door and whining because I'm god's most favoritest most specialest princess who deserves every single grade before anyone does anything? I assure you that I'm not. and for all your concern about me "missing social cues" (which I won't deny) you seem to be missing more than a few yourself if you take every single thing I post about my life at face value.

anyway! I'm blocking you now xoxo

[fanofthelamb]

So I went dumpster diving in my tablet for the first lamb I ever drew and WOW... I found a lot of sketches I really don't plan on revisiting. I am jsut gonna dump them below the cut for people to see!! Some of it is lore related, some of it is shit I ABSOLUTELY FUCKING HATE, but IDC!!! I will post it anyway for the tumblr users who I keep an eye on my notifs for. (yes, i see you guys. even if i dont always interact I see you and love you guys)

Anyway, here is the earliest drawin I have of me drawing the lamb!! I am going to write a comment under a lot of these to add context to them.

A cute little baby <3333 but I struggled a LOT of figuring out what the lamb was wearing, I eventually figured it out though. (I hope)

if you know, you know. (RIP VAL)

for my BTG AU. I decided I no longer wanted chemach to make the [spoiler] for the lamb, though, so I scrapped this

vaaaal,,,,,, i was still learning how to draw him, i wish i put pants on him but do those even exist in COTL? (yes)

I haven't been able to do much with them because I'm putting other stuff first, but Brear has two kids, Notre and Brejul who Narinder absolutely ADORES. he is the one who babysits.

fun fact but the lamb being touch repulsed is a projection LOL. i hate it when people touch me it feels so tickly and makes me want to bite their faces off. (but i am touch starved and i LOVE to show affection to other ppl, esp thru back rubs)

yes, they have a hoop for personal space. no, ill never use it.

drum corcl,,,, i love the little dancing guy that comes from the drums

more narinder and brear. they're not romantically interested in each other, but he is absolutely head over heels for brear, their brother, and the kids. they even call him dad sometimes.

[no context]

kallamar and leshy before their crowns. the scene i have related to this isn't happening anymore, but it was leshy begging to be taught to swim.

another "the one who baby sits" doodle. the bishops all came into the cult with a very good repuation thanks to narinder. he likes to tell the kids of the cult stories about how amazing his siblings were. at first, it was just to nobre and brejul with stories about leshy(he missed leshy a lot even though he was still mad at him, and the two reminded narinder of his time with leshy), but then it escalated into him hosting storytimes with larger groups after they started repeating some of the stories he'd tell them.

unfinsihed stuff about with the lamb and thier mom. their mom wasn't afraid of the bishops at all, but knew that they were a still a threat to her and her child's life. the lamb did NOT care for anyone thier mom didn't approve of/enthusiastically liked. they were much more afraid of the bishops than their mother.

i do not actually know if i posted this.i dont think so, but i giggle every time i scroll past it

brear and nobre <333

im still workong on BTG shit, and i post a little bit of the characters on here even tho the comics are going to be posted elsewhere. they have a "crownlike" beak, but a body part. there's different creatures who became gods through different ways; crowns are one way but their power is stuck with the crown and they are considered extremely weak compared to other gods. i wont blabber on about it tho.

so many sketches has random lines through em because i work with a tablet,,, i hate it. anyway, narinder and kallamar everybody!

sketches i made but didn't bother to finish of me and merbre,,,,,,,,, my husband #1 <3 them w/ narinder + merbre arent gonna be considered "canon" but damn it ill self-ship with them until i get a follower i can WORK with

i come back to this every few weeks and im never happy with it, i dont know if ill finish this but i think about them........ before the divorce </3

unused from an ask

heartstealer. menace. you can rip my heart out anytime, leshy <3

dreshy. he LOVES dresses and being pretty and cute and pretty. he sucks narinder into a lot and heket will sometimes join in if he demands asks her to <3

another unused drawing from an ask i'll eventually answer. (mildly offended at being called a mutton cube.)

.... aaand WOW! I think that's everything guys!! things are still kinda wild but they're calming down a little bit. idk how much longer it's gonna last like this but I have some energy so I made a way-too-long post showing off art I wasn't supposed to post! Awesome. :D

#cw gore #cotl au stuff in here #23 pics under the cut btw #cotl #cotl fanart #cult of the lamb #cotl lamb #the lamb #cotl narinder #cotl spoilers #cotl kallamar #cotl leshy #i dont think ill tag anymore #idek if i should've tagged this post at all #but well see how it plays out!! #THIS POST TOOK FOREVER TIME TO GO CLEAN

[hxhhasmysoul]

the blatant didactic nature of the gojou's racist comment scene

the way people talk about the racist comment gojou made is baffling to me. completely baffling.

gege seems to have lefty leanings and jjk is pretty lefty too. it's not super lefty, it's not fully enlightened on all possible fronts, not even close to as left as most tumblr fandom would want to be or imagine themselves to be. most of you fail miserably because you are averse to self-awareness and interrogating your own internalised bigotry and it plays a huge part in the outrage about chapter 255.

jjk can be easily criticised from the left. very fucking easily, but most of the fandom just doesn't know how and any criticisms they make on how jjk handles lefty issues usually fall so fucking flat and honestly often veer into into criticising jjk from a right wing and fundie religious pov. that's just the truth, i've personally dissected some of such takes, mostly about the performative feminism in the fandom that is aggressively terf flavoured.

so i will do some more mild lefty critique in the context of the recent gojou flashback. by explaining to the loud functionally illiterate part of the fandom what gege likes to do in the story. like what very basic, unsubtle things gege does in the story to push their lefty leanings. so this is as much a critique of the text of jjk as it is of the fandom.

______

jjk's target audience are japanese teenagers. idk if gege thinks they are writing mostly for boys but i wouldn't be surprised by that, that is the stereotype, even though i think a lot of teens who aren't boys passionately read shounen titles too. especially something like jjk that aggressively panders to the not straight male gaze.

what gege did with gojou making the racist comment, they'd done before with toudou and megumi. and with yuuji and ozawa. i mean the very unsubtle rhetorical didactic technique they used. gege took their presumed teenage male reader by the hand and led him through a basic lefty concept.

(they also tried to do it with momo and nobara and mai but that one is such a mess and honestly a failure because gege mushes in too many topics and really doesn't stick the landing on some, that it fails to be a simplistic didactic moment like the other ones. it'd be too much of a tangent to go into it)

megs & toudou aka gege explaining to teen boys how not to end up someone akin to an incel

when toudou asked megumi his type, as readers are very clearly led to understand that megumi's point of view is the correct one.

megumi's answer about character being what matters gets clear approval from the two girls present. gege points to the teenage boy reader, look, if you want girls to think you’re okay, think like megumi.

and toudou is very clearly written as cringe, as a guy who tries to be edgy but simps for an idol. there is a stigma in japan against men who obsess about idols because they are considered immature, unable to handle having interactions with other humans and forming parasocial relationships instead. so toudou's rejection of megumi's thinking is put into context. his behaviour puts women off, and shouldn't be taken seriously because he's likely a virgin, too afraid to talk to a real woman.

the attempt is good, but not perfect. because the social ridicule men like toudou get is really annoying, because it's just trying to shame them into being "normal", and it doesn't address the underlying societal and cultural issues that lead to men turning to parasocial relationships for emotional fulfilment. so i'd say 8/10. pretty high because toudou at least was like: don't be homophobic.

ozawa & yuuji aka gege explaining to teen boys how to be a borderline decent human being, and to people with low self esteem due to cultural shunning that they deserve more than basic human decency

gege does the same thing with yuuji and ozawa. ozawa has deeply internalised her fatfobia and turned it into self hatred. she develops a crush on yuuji because he considered her attractive. yes, i think yuuji is generally great and would make a partner happy, but ozawa's primary motivation is that he's normal about her. this teaches the reader: yuuji is the best one among the boys because he's not shallow and fatphobic. but also with ozawa not pursuing yuuji when she got slim, it shows people like her not to settle for the bare minimum of being treated with basic decency. it would've been better if ozawa didn't turn slim because i've seen cis male fans really gloss over everything else, but it's not a completely meaningless attempt. it's just like 5/10.

gojou & miguel aka gege explaining to teen boys how certain widespread stereotypes are actually bigoted

gege has gojou say an openly bigoted thing, get instant push back for it from the affected party and apologise to the person he hurt. it literally teaches the reader, we all have biases, we all are ignorant about things, even the people who the society elevates and puts on a pedestal. and when that happens, when our ignorance is pointed out to us, when it hurts someone, we should not argue, we shouldn’t treat their push back as a personal attack, we should just simply apologise. there's no attempt at gojou apologetics in the text. 10/10, the best of gege's attempts.

_

racism and colourism and cultural chauvinism are prominent cultural and societal issues in japan. japan also has huge issues with abelism, misogyny, queerphobia, fatphobia to name the biggest ones i can think of. but also these issues are pervasive in all other countries around the world, just to varying degrees. there's no country that is perfect on any of these, some are objectively better on some, but never all, than others and some market themselves as better but are actually fucking awful.

one of the most globalised things is bigotry, it spreads like wildfire. but it also spreads in ways that most people don't understand. you need to be taught critical thinking and reading comprehension and actually taught that they can exist in the first place to pick up on these things, no one is born with these skills and knowledge. if people never encounter stereotypes like "black people are naturally stronger" challenged or discussed, they will not know that 1. they are not true, 2. that they are actually harmful. because on the surface it kinda looks like praise, and people will propagate it thinking that it's praise. gojou isn't trying to insult miguel, his apology makes it clear. he lived in a culture where this opinion was widespread and never thought about it, it vaguely sounded like praise to his ignorance. it doesn't mean that what he said wasn't racist because his intentions were good. i've written before what i think about using intentions to excuse shitty behaviour, i've actually written about it specifically in the context of how the fandom treats gojou's shitty behaviour.

we all have these internalised bigoted opinions in ourselves, not because we're all bad people but because we're surrounded by them. as children we initially trust adults until we learn better that not everyone should be trusted. or that some people can be trusted about some stuff but not everything. so we take what we hear from them at face value. same with the media that we’re all bombarded with. someone has to teach us to notice these things. (if you think you're morally pure and only have good opinions it means that you've not worked through much. there are so many complex issues in our cultures and societies that it's impossible not to have blind spots. but also it means that you're closed to evolving your opinions. many views that used to be progressive 20, 10 years ago are not seen as such anymore. certain interpretations are proposed, seem good but get challenged, and usually turn out to be reductive. believing that there’s some finite and established set of morally good opinions means that you just want a cheat sheet to perform moral purity to get societal brownie points, you’re not really interested in reality)

we need to first learn that we have the biases we do and then also be open to interrogating our preconceived notions, to be actually capable of shedding them. we need to not take personally being called out on it.

but that's hard. the morality policing that is so pervasive online leads many people to never wanting to be wrong. because others will be horrid about it and will never forget. there's no incentive to get better on issues, or grapple with one's own biases when many people online will never accept the idea that someone can make a mistake, be corrected and take that correction to heart and do better from there on. you have one chance to get it right and then well, morally impure brand forever.

and this is one crux of the issue with fandom's reaction to the scene in 255. gojou is shown to have a racist blind spot and happily regurgitates a racist comment. and what happens next doesn't matter. the fandom has decided that gojou is forever tainted because he wasn't fully enlightened to begin with.

what gege did is one of the best ways a story can be aggressively didactic about something like this. show a person doing a bad thing and then show how to sincerely apologise. no apologetics, no relativism, very short, to the point.

but in this day and age, with how people perform leftism through media consumption and fandom, this is met with vitriol. and that's fucking scary because it will make it toxic for others to attempt stuff like this. all of you misinterpreting this so aggressively is actually harmful. idk how much of this will get to gege and other mangaka but it might make some of them believe that it's better to never touch any societal issues because it's not worth the backlash, most of which stems out of either actual lack of reading comprehension or malicious misinterpretation. because gege did it correctly and the fandom just will not accept that.

to the rabid and loud parts of the fandom, gojou having this flaw is either:

the author is just being a dick to their character, therefore the true gojou that lives in his fans' heads is not racist.

or what gojou did actually wasn't racist uwu, or his intentions were pure uwu, it's not that important and you're overreacting.

or gege is racist for even mentioning racism... some of you really think you are leftists and then parrot this tired far right tactic: i'm not bigoted, you're bigoted for mentioning bigotry...

and all of these, all of these completely miss the point of that scene.

_

this is one of the 3 recent gojou scenes that i think are meant to be redeeming for his major flaws selfishness and insensitivity, and the only one that in my opinion actually works.

the one that is completely garbage and confusing is the one with gakuganji, gojou seemingly is trying to appoint someone to provide structure to the rebuilding after the whole sukuna debacle. like i think it's meant to show gojou actually taking responsibility for his failures (the whole mention of yaga) and show practical concern over futures of the people in his care. previously he kinda showed responsibility over what happened to riko and getou but it was all kinda mired with him getting a power up, and him really still being an irresponsible and selfish guy later on. and all he had to offer the teens he recruited as child soldiers was some "better jujutsu society" that very pointedly lacked on any fucking details as to what it could've been. and him ceding responsibility onto gakuganji, one of the pillars of the previous system really kinda shows hoe vacuous gojou's ideals were. -10/10 on the redemption attempt.

the one that feels very tone deaf is gojou telling ijichi that he trusts him the most. ijichi literally thought that gojou could hit him a few months before that. ijichi a lower ranking person in a hierarchy, believed that a higher ranking person could hit him. the kind of bullying and disrespect that leads someone to believe that is serious, honestly gojou and ijichi kinda remind me of an abusive family dynamic, where the abuser sporadically and irregularly drops some kindness to confuse the victim and make them not leave. and the last act of kindness just doesn't feel that meaningful. 0/10 on the redemption scale.

but this with miguel? a 10/10 redemption moment. gojou isn't prideful when his racism is called out, isn't trying to diminish what he did, isn't avoidant. he apologises. that's it. this is why it actually is a very simple argument against the "gege hates gojou" bs.

that "gege hates gojou" is stupid in general, because it's basically based on the belief that giving a character flaws means the author hates them. and this stems from far right moral purity ideologies that a lot of people have never challenged in themselves. that's why there's so much harassment and vitriol over finding out people put on a pedestal have flaws.

gojou is flawed. each and every one of us is flawed. we all have biases and blind spots and internalised bigoted views, many of which we don't realise we have because we usually don't think about those topics. that point is what we do with that, how we react to realising that a thing we had as some background belief is actually a harmful stereotype. if it's just in our heads then interrogate it, where did it come from, maybe there's more shit like that in our minds that we need to tackle. if we say it, then acting like gojou is actually the way to go. apologise, if necessary do more remediation, and then interrogate where it came from.

having bad opinions doesn't make anyone an intrinsically immoral and impure person. what they do when those opinions are challenged and how they act / what they say next time is the mark of their character.

so many of you moral purity fuckers, who deem themselves leftists, want media to be morality plays. want media to take you by the hand and show you right from wrong. and when an author actually does that, the exact thing you claim you want them to, it literally flies over your fucking heads.

#jjk spoilers #jjk leaks #jjk 255 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojou satoru #jjk miguel #racism #bigotry #this fandom makes me lose brain cells #why do you people even interact with stories if you have no fucking reading comprehension #find a different fucking hobby #or learn to read

[aemondgirlfriend]

INVISIBLE STRINGS (4)

Aemond Targaryen x Twin Sister (OC)

Summary: Aemond Targaryen was known as a cold, cruel and frightening prince, but he wasn't like that. Aemond was affectionate, intelligent, obedient and loved his family, but mostly her. Alysanne Targaryen is Aemond's twin sister, but with a different appearance. She had hair like her mother Alicent's, but her eyes were the violet of Old Valyria, the blood of the dragon running through her veins. Aemond Targaryen was cold, cruel and frightening, but not with her. What Alysanne wanted, he did. Because it was always her and always will be.

Rating: Explicit/+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warning: Violence and explicit NSFW, third-person POV, bad language, angst, fluff, smut (unprotected sex, oral (giving and receiving), use of fingers)

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. This is the first story I've posted on tumblr, so please take it easy on me.

Alysanne stared at her reflection in the mirror while her maid calmly combed her dark hair. It had been weeks since the princess had spoken to the King, and he made no point of speaking to her. The dinners, meetings and celebratory parties were always the same, a part of the family getting together to keep up appearances, but it was all shit.

"- Princess?" she came out of her thoughts and faced her maid in the mirror “— I’m done.”

“—Oh, thank you, dear. You can stay for dinner with us, you know I love your company.”

“— It wouldn’t be appropriate, princess. The King would not approve.”

“—Oh fuck what he thinks. You are my maid, my lady-in-waiting, if I ask you to accompany me to something, no one should interfere with it.” She approached Gilly, her blonde lady-in-waiting with brown eyes, holding her shoulders “— I’ll lend you one of my dresses, you can choose.”

“—But…princess…”

“—Do not disobey your princess’s orders.” Alysanne said in a serious tone, clearly joking, then smiling. “— I’ll fix you up.”

And she did. Gilly chose a lilac dress with some embroidered butterflies and the princess did a simple hairstyle on her blonde locks. They looked in the mirror and hugged each other.

“— You’re beautiful, I bet some lord might even be interested in you.”

Gilly's pale face turned red as a tomato and the princess laughed, linking their arms together. They left the rooms and walked slowly to the main hall, where a celebration was taking place. It had been like this in the last few weeks, since Alysanne and Viserys had a falling out, the King had been throwing parties in the fortress with the aim of finding a groom for his youngest daughter, but it wasn't being easy. Not only Alysanne, but Aemond scared away the princess's potential suitors, scaring them and offering them as lunch to Vhagar. And now Alysanne scared them with Cannibal, saying that the dragon was super protective of her and would kill anyone who got close to her without her approval.

The King didn't like this.

Alysanne asked Gilly to have fun and went to her twin who smiled when he saw her. The purple dress fit perfectly on her body and highlighted her curves, matching perfectly with the color of her beautiful eyes. The princess approached her brother and hugged him, kissing his cheek.

“— You once again attracting everyone’s attention, I don’t like it.”

“—Come on, no jealousy, Aemond.” She adjusted the collar of her black clothes and held his hand. "- Do you wanna Dance?"

"- I do not dance."

"- Please. Or will I have to ask one of these lords, and honestly? I don't want." She looked at him with her pious eyes. “— Then I will ask Aegon.”

She let go of his hand and turned to leave, but Aemond grabbed her wrist, turning her back to him. With his jaw set and his face serious, Aemond pulled his sister into the middle of the room. He spun her around and held her waist, everyone's eyes fixed on the two brothers, the princess who was laughing and the prince who was just doing what she wanted. Everyone knew how spoiled by Prince Alysanne was, but they had never actually seen it happen. Alicent looked at the two with a smile on her face, while the King drank his wine in silence.

“— They’re getting closer and closer.” the Queen said, looking at her husband. “— We should accept Aemond’s proposal.”

Viserys placed the cup on the table and took a deep breath, wetting his lips.

“—Alysanne will marry whoever I choose.”

“— You know she won’t.” the King was silent, turning his gaze to the Queen. “— I never liked your ways, but…I can see how happy they are and how happy they would be. Can't imagine? Aemond has Vhagar and Alysanne Cannibal, they would be strong and good allies for other houses in the future.” Alicent got up from her chair and straightened her dress. “—Think about it once again, husband, and dance with your daughter. It’s time to sort things out.”

The Queen walked away and went close to Helaena who was arguing with Aegon because he was drinking too much. Alysanne and Aemond stopped dancing and the princess was panting, unlike the prince who was just tired. She held his hand and pulled him to the table, taking a glass of wine and drinking it heartily.

“— I see you’re thirsty.”

She looked at her father and let go of her brother's hand, wetting her lips and wiping away the traces of wine.

“— Dancing makes me thirsty and tired.” she pursed her lips, Aemond still staring at her.

"- Is tired? I thought I could have a dance with my daughter.”

Alysanne opened her lips in surprise and looked at her brother who smiled with the corner of his lips, motioning for her to accept the dance.

“— Well, I… I think I can dance some more.”

Viserys smiled and stood up, walking over to her daughter and linking her arm with hers. The two attracted all the eyes in the room, most of them surprised by the King's attitude, especially Otto and his children. The last time they saw Viserys do something like this was when Rhaenyra was just a child and Helaena when she married Aegon, but now it seemed different. All the guests knew that the father and daughter had fallen out, rumors spread quickly through the walls of the fortress and especially throughout Westeros, seeing that scene made some people happy with their reconciliation.

Alysanne danced the choreography she always did with the others, spinning, jumping and laughing, sometimes making the King laugh.

“— I'm sorry for my rude words, my daughter, I've been really hard on you.”

The princess stopped to listen to him, people still dancing around them.

“— I want to see you happy and with your family formed, and… with someone you love.” he held her hands and caressed her palm. “— And that’s why I wanted to make you a proposal.”

Alysanne took a deep breath and waited for his answer with a small smile on her face, wishing it was the answer she wanted.

“— I want to propose your hand to Jason Lannister.” the sparkle in the princess's eyes and the smile on her lips disappeared immediately, and once again she felt her eyes water. “— He is not an old man and he is a good person, I am sure he would be a good husband just as you would be a good wife and they would have beautiful heirs. He’s super loyal to me and it would be nice to always have the Lannisters on our side.” he shook her hands, looking into her violet eyes. “—What do you say?”

She felt her lips tremble and pulled her hands away, her nose itching with the urge to cry. She shook her head and laughed nasally, wetting her lips.

"- You are unbelievable."

Alysanne walked away, pushing past the people who were in her way and left the room, hearing the King shout her name, his eyes following her steps one last time that night. The princess locked herself in her chambers and removed the dress she was wearing, undoing her hair. She changed into looser clothes and let her hair down, grabbing a cape from her hanger. With her dagger at her waist, the princess entered Maegor's passages and left the castle, heading towards the flea desert.

She was going to have a different kind of fun tonight.

#aemond fanfiction #everyone #aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!oc #aemond the kinslayer #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell

[karmic-vibes]

If I Can Dream

8 - Oh Why Can’t My Dream Come True

art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr and lazyjunebug on twitter

cw: gender dysphoria, misuse of pronouns, use of deadname

Year: 1988

“They’re gonna freak out,” Eddie panicked.

“No they won’t,” Steve assured.

“They’re gonna call me a girl,” he hissed.

“And I’ll yell at them, then we’ll leave. You’re my boyfriend and soon-to-be husband, alright? I’m not gonna let them walk all over you.”

“If you say so.”

“Oh, hello boys. What brings you here?” he asked.

“Oh, hello boys. What brings you here?” he asked.

“Off to a good start,” Steve whispered. “Hi, dad. We, uh… we actually had some news we wanted to share with you guys.”

“Alright, what is it?”

“For starters, we’re getting married.”

“Oh, congratulations!” Pattie cheered, forcing the two of them into a hug.

“How, uh… how exactly does that work?” John asked.

“Well…” Steve looked to Eddie, seeking his approval before continuing. He gave him a nod and a reassuring rub on the back. “Since Eddie is still legally considered a female, we’re able to get married. When we go to change his last name, he’ll finally be changing his first one too.”

“About time,” John said.

“You’re telling me,” Eddie dryly chuckled.

“So what else?” Pattie asked.

“Hmm?” Steve hummed.

“You said ‘for starters’—what else is there?”

“Well…” They looked the each other, fear filling their eyes. “We’re, um… uh…”

“For Christ’s sake, we’re having a baby,” Eddie rushed out.

Pattie and John stood there catching flies. Their eyes bulged out of their head, not quite sure how to take the news.

“Okay, not everyone speak all at once, god,” Steve said.

“I… are you sure?” Pattie asked.

“Yeah, we’re sure.”

“Okay, but how sure?”

“I took an at home test and just got my blood work done. So… pretty sure…”

“Wow… John?”

His father didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed past the boys and made his way to the study. Pattie rolled her eyes and chased after her husband.

“Told you so,” Eddie said.

“Not the time, Munson. Mom, dad?” Steve called.

“What?” Pattie sighed.

“We just… we thought you guys would be happy. You know… grandkids, yay…”

“Steven, we put up with this whole charade you made us put on for your girlfriend–“

“Whoa–“

“I am not done speaking, Steven. You make us relearn a name, address her by some ridiculous new pronouns. We can accept the two of you getting married, since legally we can’t stop you. But having a child? No, absolutely not. You two as parents? Please. It’s an unfit household.”

“How, dad? Hmm? How are we unfit to be parents?”

“A child needs a mom and a dad. Not a dad and a fucking tranny.”

“Yeah, because a mom and a dad did me so fucking well. We’re done here. Let’s go.”

Steve grabbed onto Eddie’s wrist and practically dragged him out of the house. He opened Eddie’s door for him and shut it once he was fully in the car. Even when he was heated beyond belief, he always took the time to treat Eddie the way he deserved. Especially now that they had a child on the way, he always found a reason to calm himself down.

Without realizing, Steve was driving with his mind on autopilot. Despite not being scheduled to work that day, he found himself pulling into the Family Video lot. When it clicked, he blinked aimlessly a few times and profusely apologized to Eddie.

“No, no, it’s okay, honey. Let’s get a movie or something while we’re here and say hi to Robin.”

“Yeah, okay…”

“We don’t have to tell her yet if you don’t want.”

“No, no I do. Sorry, my parents put me in a bad mood.”

“I know, it’s okay.”

Steve got out, rushing over to get Eddie’s door for him. He helped him out and the two stood outside the door, trying to silently reassure each other before heading inside. As Eddie reached for the door, Steve grabbed his waist and pulled him in for a sweet kiss.

The two caught Robin’s eye as she was processing some returns. She raised a brow and leaned over the counter, waiting for the two to walk in. They mumbled something incoherent to each other before Steve opened the door for Eddie.

“Long time, no see, boys. How’re we doing today?”

“Good,” Eddie smiled. “How’re you, Rob?”

“I’m good,” she said, glancing over at Steve. “Are you hiding something from me, Harrington? You’re usually talking my ear off.”

“Can we talk in the back, Rob?”

“Sure… everything okay?”

“Yeah, just come on.”

The friends dipped into the cramped back room as Eddie wandered around looking for a movie for the night. Robin leaned against the door as Steve hopped onto the desk with a huff.

“What’s really going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s up. What’s going on?”

“Sorry, we just got back from my parents’ house.”

“Ah. Any reason you were there?”

“Do I need a reason to visit my parents?” Robin raised a brow and crossed her arms. “Yeah, okay, you got me there.” Steve buried his face in his hands. “Eddie’s pregnant…”

“Holy shit, what? How?”

“We weren’t careful and uh… yeah. He’s pregnant. Just about two months, now.”

“Wow… so, you’re gonna be a dad?”

“I know…”

“What the hell‽”

“I know!”

“Jesus… how does Eddie feel about the whole thing?”

“He’s nervous, understandably. I’m more nervous for his mental state, y’know?”

“Why?”

“Rob, he’s worked so hard getting where he is. He’s come out to me, to everyone we know, dealt with the backlash, went through the agony of top surgery, and now… after all that… he’s pregnant… it’s like two steps forward and three steps back. I feel terrible.”

“Steve, he loves you and I’m sure he’s happy to do this for you. If he weren’t, I’m sure he’d bring up the idea of getting rid of it. I think he’ll be okay.”

“I just worry.”

“And you have every right to worry! It just means you’re a good boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” he corrected.

“Jesus, Harrington, I don’t see you for a week and you come in here saying you’re gonna be a dad and a husband!”

“I know, crazy, huh?”

“Where does all the time go, Christ…”

“What do you mean?” Steve chuckled.

“Steve, three years ago, when we met at Scoops, you and Ed had only been dating for like six or seven months. Both unsure what you’d be doing with each of your futures. Now here you are, nearly college graduates, engaged, and future dads. It’s insane!”

“Yeah, I guess it is…”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Rob. That means a lot.”

“Of course, dingus. I’ll always be happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Steve chortled. “I should go check on the husband. Lord knows what he’s getting into.”

“Probably ruining all my hard work from this morning,” Robin teased.

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

As if I’m cue, as the friends emerged from the back room, Eddie had tripped over one of the displays Robin had spent all morning setting up. She pinched the bridge of her nose, motioning for Steve to collect his man.

“Sorry,” Eddie started. “Pregnancy brain is already getting to me.”

“I figured. Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks, Robin…” Eddie blushed as Steve helped him up. “Uh, Stevie, how do you feel about a horror movie?”

“Depends which one.”

“Nightmare on Elm?”

“Ed, we’ve watched that a million times.”

“Yeah, your point?”

“God, I hate you. Fine, we’ll rent it again, but I’m getting something too.”

“Fine by me. I’ll be right back,” he said, setting the tape down on the counter.

“Where’re you running off to?” Steve asked.

“If you must know, Steven, I feel like I’m about to puke my guts out. Happy?”

“Dear lord. Call me if you need anything.” Eddie gave him a thumbs up as he headed to the Staff Only bathroom.

“So, what’re you gonna make him sit through?” Robin asked.

“A birthing video. He wants horror, I’ll give him horror.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not? We both need to be prepared.”

“If you say so.”

Later that night, after the boys had dinner and finished watching Nightmare on Elm Street, Steve surprised Eddie with the birthing video. At first, Eddie was reluctant to watch it, especially so soon, but he eventually caved and let Steve pop the tape in.

The tape started out as rather informational, going through the different stages of labor and what to expect in each. What neither of them were anticipating, was it cutting to a woman actually pushing a child out of her.

“Can result in a severe hemorrhage, which could lead to death in minutes,” the narrator droned.

Eddie and Steve sat back on the couch, clutching their thighs to their chests, mouths hanging open with eyes popped out of the skulls.

“Steven, why did you make me watch that‽”

“I don’t know!”

“Was that meant to be comforting‽”

“I don’t know!”

“Oh my god, a human is going to be coming out of me!” Eddie panicked. “This is all your fault, Harrington!”

“What is‽”

“First knocking me up, then showing me that video!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Ugh!” Eddie fell back on the couch, dragging a blanket with him. He cocooned himself in the couch’s throw, only allowing his eyes to pop out. “This kid better be worth it.”

“She will be.”

“I hate you, Harrington.”

“I know you do, Munson…” Steve sighed as he rubbed his fiancé’s back. “I know you do…”

#eddie munson #eddie st4 #eddie stranger things #gay #st4 #steddie #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #lgbtq #pride #lgbt pride #trans eddie munson #transgender #parent steddie #joseph quinn #joe kerry #robin buckley #maya hawke

[2chopsticks2eyes]

What You Deserve: Part 2

This is part 2 of a three part series, please be sure to start from part one!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Fem Reader

Themes: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: All parts are ~67k | AO3

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, mentions of non-con, PTSD, Anxiety, Alcohol, Cussing, Come Eating, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Loss of Virginity, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, References to Drugs, Drug Dealing, Alternate Universe - College/University, Eating Disorders, Childhood Trauma, Vaginal Sex, Protected Sex, Unprotected Sex

Summary: After unfortunate circumstances, you pack up and move to Korea with your best friend Bang Chan to attend college. After falling into Chan's group of friends he had established, you find yourself getting a little too close to the mild tempered and snarky Lee Minho.

Author's Note: I am probably spoiling the whole story with the warnings, but I like to be safe. I originally was only on AO3, but I wanted to link platforms with Tumblr and Twitter too. Hope you enjoy!

________________________________________

Part Two: Discoveries

“Is everything okay with you and Channie-hyung?” You whipped your head around at Felix. You were currently sitting in the passenger seat of his beat up old Toyota Corolla. Chan had left before everyone else to help set up so Felix had offered to drive you to Seungmin’s for the party.

“Of course Lix, why do you ask?” You tried to not actively show how pissed off you were, but you suppose your other flatmate had picked up on the cold atmosphere between you and your best friend.

“It’s just… I don’t know, you two are usually laughing and talking twenty-four-seven and I feel like you two are intentionally avoiding each other now…” You looked at the sweet boy’s face and he seemed genuinely concerned. The boy’s got a goddamn heart of gold.

You breathed a deep sigh and looked forward to the road again. “Yeah, everything will be fine, Lix. We just… we got in a stupid ass fight and I don’t think either of us are ready to hash it out just yet.”

“Oh…” He sounded disappointed as he nodded his head in understanding. “Well, I’m sure you two will work things out fairly quickly! I’ve never seen a pair of friends quite as close as you two are, maybe Minho and Jisung, but none other!” Ugh. Why did he have to bring up Minho? It’s not as if your airhead mind wasn’t already being plagued by the man constantly. The LAST thing you needed was to add fuel to the fire. The fire that may or may not have been burning in your pants. Constantly.

“Thanks, Lixie. That’s sweet of you to say.” You raised your hand and gave him a small pat on his shaggy blonde head as he answered with a squinty smile.

The two of you rolled up and you braced yourself to face Chan as Felix knocked on the expensive apartment building’s door. You two heard a loud ‘COME IN!’ from none other than the ever-yelling Seo Changbin and the two of you tentatively stepped inside.

You stepped out of your shoes in the fancy entryway and rounded the corner on the right to fully enter the apartment. “TA-DAAA!” You stopped in your tracks as soon as you were faced with Jisung and Minho with their arms spread out in presentation of their surprise. And, boy, was it one HELL of a surprise.

Both of them were sporting brand new silky, midnight blueish-black hair. DAMN THOSE TWO FOR WRECKING YOUR HEART! You felt your stomach fall out of your ass and you were cursing them in all languages under the sun. “Holy SHIT.” You didn’t even give two flying fucks that you let that one slip.

“You like it?” Jisung was lightly bouncing, making his fresh new hair floof out in the process. He looked exponentially hopeful of your approval and looked stupid adorable with his cheeky smile.

“Fuck yeah I do!” You walked up to the two boys who smiled at you in suspension of your words. “Damn, you two are looking FINE AS HELL!” You shamelessly brought each of your hands up to their heads to run through their silky locks, to which they allowed with pleasure.

“Good, ‘cause I’d hate to have to redo it if you didn’t.” Minho winked at you and you silently kicked yourself for your dumbass swooning. You had desperately tried to avoid eye contact, but how could you when he looked like a whole fucking SNACK? With his stupid new hair color with his stupid black ripped jeans that hug his stupidly thick thighs deliciously and his stupid plain black t-shirt that would look boring on literally anyone but him, topping it off with that stupid fucking leather jacket that fits him perfectly.

“Psh, I highly doubt my opinion would convince you to go through another color treatment.”

“True, but it’s the thought that counts.” Cheeky bastard.

“Wait, is this why you skipped class?” You wouldn’t put it past him, he’s a fucking god at dancing so he can afford to miss a class or two.

He shrugged. “The world may never know.” He gave another breathtaking wink and you fumed at the damned tease.

You couldn’t help but glance over at Chan who was staring daggers at your interaction with the boys from his position next to Seungmin in the kitchen. You knew it was petty, it really was, but you couldn’t help it. You turned to stand in between the boys and looped your arms through each of theirs tightly. “C’mon, my two favorite blueberries, let’s get trashed!”

- - - - - - - - - -

Everyone sat in a circle around the large coffee table in the living room with their various drinks of liquor, cocktails, beer, et cetera. Chan was on the opposite side from where you were on the couch sandwiched between Jisung and Minho.

“Why can’t I be blueberry number one?” Said a very disgruntled Lee Minho from your left.

“Because she obviously likes me more!” Jisung said from your right, leaning over you to poke his tongue out at his best friend.

You chuckled at the quokka. “It’s because his cute little cheekies are so round and cute like a blueberry. I just want to grab him and squish them!” You took his alcohol flushed face in your hands by his cheeks and smooshed them accordingly, to which he promptly decided to close his eyes and pucker his lips out as you laughed at him.

“Yah! Back off, Han Jisung!” Minho shoved Jisung away from you as the quokka giggled. You felt your ears heat up as you imagined it to be over possessiveness of you. Even though it was stupid... No, IT IS stupid. End of story.

“What? It’s not as if she’s taken hyuuuung.” Jisung taunted his fellow blueberry, who just glowered right back at him.

“No, it’s because she’s just like one of us. One of the guys. Stop harassing her, Hanji.” Chan spoke up from across the table with a dead serious glare. You heard the laughter beside you go quiet and you could feel your anger rise again.

You threw your arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “Cool it, Chan. It’s all for shits and giggles, right Ji?” You could feel Jisung tense under Chan’s menacing eyes.

“Heh, yeah, just all for fun hyung…” He chuckled nervously and you reclaimed your arm from his warmth.

Everyone in the room went silent as you and Chan were having a damned Mexican stand off in the middle of the living room. You abruptly decided to chug your double bourbon and coke in one go and stood rigidly. “Whatever, I’m getting more to drink.”

Once you were in the privacy of the kitchen, you could hear low mumbling coming from the other room. Damnit, Chan! Why are you being like this? I mean... you, yourself, weren’t necessarily helping the situation, but it’s not as if you were intentionally dragging the rest of the group into it!

You refilled the glass of melted ice and you stiffened as you heard footsteps approach from behind you. “Hey…” You physically relaxed. You turned around and presented your most convincing smile to Seungmin.

“Hey, sorry about all of that. Oh! I forgot to tell you congrats buddy! I really like your new place, you must be loaded as hell. How much do you pay for this shit?” He looked utterly unconvinced.

“I appreciate your interest, but you know that’s not what I want to talk about right now.”

You sighed and hung your head. “I know I know, sorry Seungmin. I know we shouldn’t bring our drama into your party… I’m willing to ignore our petty quarrel for tonight if he is, but I really don’t think this is something he and I can solve in just one night.”

He nodded in understanding. “Okay Kiyomi, I appreciate it. I’ll talk to Chan-hyung too. Don’t be too long, okay?”

“Kay…” You gave him a meek grin as he exited the room again, exhaling in defeat once he was gone. Why tonight, of all nights, is it when we fight like this? It’s not like you two were strangers to disagreements and petty tiffs, even so, they were very few and far between so when they happened, it felt ten times worse.

Just as you finished making your drink, you turned to go back to the living room. However, lo and behold, the bane of your existence, Lee Minho crashed right into you as you rounded the corner. Bourbon and coke drenched  the both of you, on display for everyone to see, the darkened drink fully soaked through your white t-shirt. You looked down in horror as your bra became more and more visible through the dampening cloth. Lord, kill me now.

“Aw fuck, Kiyomi, I’m so sorry! Are y–” You flushed in embarrassment as you saw Minho look down at your current situation and you threw your arms over your chest to cover yourself. Minho was quick to turn and face away, but he didn’t cut and run like you had expected. Instead, he slightly spread his arms, fanning out his leather jacket and stepping to the side so that you were out of view from the group. “Where’s your overnight bag?” He said over his shoulder.

“By the front door…” You squeaked out from your mortified state of being.

“Walk behind me over to the guest room and you can shower in the ensuite and change clothes. I’ll leave your bag just inside the door.” He said it to you, but loud enough so everyone would know to piss off and keep it velvet.

“I’ll clean up!” Jeongin jumped up on his feet and you handed the empty glass to Minho for him to pass on to the maknae. The two of you shimmied over and you muttered a small ‘thank you’ as you closed the door behind you. You melted on the other side of the door and buried your face in your hands. You were reminded that, yes, you’re just like one of the guys, however you ARE still a female. Some things you just can’t mutually brush off. You weren’t exactly proud of your lithe body and now the whole group got a good glimpse of it along with your undergarments. 

You groaned in frustration as you stomped off to the shower.

- - - - - - - - - -

Your heart swelled with warmth as you stepped back into the room - your towel wrapped firmly around you - and saw your bag right where Minho said he would put it. It also appeared that he had closed the door and locked it behind him for good measure. He had always been attractive to you, but the act of respect he showed you earlier made him all the more desirable. You were SO far beyond suppressing your fucked up affection for this man.

You shimmied into your mint colored silk pajamas, A cute, collared button-up with matching shorts that actually complimented your slim figure. Not to make an impression or anything. Definitely not… You took a deep breath and mentally convinced yourself to not be awkward when you returned to the party.

As you opened the door, you were relieved to see all of the boys chatting amongst themselves. Changbin and Minho were yelling at each other and being rowdy like usual. You reclaimed your seat in between the blueberries and Felix cooed at you. “Aww your pj’s are so cute, Kiyomi! I’m jelly!”

“Well Chan bought them so go ahead and thank him.” You offered a small smile to your bestie and you felt a bit of weight lift from your shoulders as he returned it. You lightly shoved Minho’s elbow, pulling him from his zoned out state that was focused on your silk nightwear. You mentally patted yourself on the back. “Yah! You’re the one who wasted my drink, go get me a new one!”

He gaped at you in mock offense. “As you command your highness!” You smiled at him with triumphant smugness as he stood from his seat to play bartender.

“Okay!” Seungmin stood up in front of the group. “Before everyone gets shitfaced, we need to go over sleeping arrangements. There are three bedrooms, all with California kings so we can fit three on each, we just need to figure out who’s sleeping with who.”

Chan looked at you warily. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for Kiyomi to sleep with two of us?” Minho returned and silently passed your mixed drink to you which you accepted with an exaggerated bow.

“What’s the big deal, Chan? You and I would sleep together most nights when I stayed at your place growing up. Or would you rather me sleep on the couch?” You knew that would strike a nerve, but you needed to make your point clear. 

“No–” Minho and Chan eerily said in tandem, making them awkwardly glance at one another.

Chan added, “Absolutely not.”

“You're not sleeping on any damn couch.” Minho’s face was stern and it got you super heated to see him be so serious. The group looked confused at their outburst. 

You looped your arms around the two boys on each side of you. “If that's the case, I’ll just cuddle up with my adorable blueberries!” You swiveled your head back and forth like an oscillating fan at the two and watched as they both suppressed their endeared smiles. And you may or may not have minded the idea snuggling up to Minho in the sheets…

“Fine, do whatever you want…” Chan crossed his arms and sighed. At least he was backing off a bit. Maybe?

“We’ve decided to play ring of fire like old times, I’ve already translated and explained the rules to everyone. You cool with that?” Chan sounded surprisingly calm in contrast to his earlier demeanor. You’re grateful that he is trying to be civil for the party. Even if you know you two will be at each other’s throats when you return home.

“Hell yeah I’m cool with that! I feel like I’m back in high school, hiding out in your parent’s shed.” Chan huffed a suppressed chuckle.

"Yeah, and I had to nurse your wasted ass back to consciousness." A wide smile spread across your face at the memory. You were abruptly startled as Minho grabbed the drink you’re sipping on and took a swig of it for himself.

“What a rebellious little mouse. I never would have guessed.” You scoffed at him and snatched the iced beverage back from his hands.

“Well there’s a lot of things you don’t know, kitty cat.” That’s the understatement of the century. You petulantly poked your tongue out and he returned it in kind. Bad idea, I don’t need to see his tongue right now. What is wrong with my BRAIN?!

“Yah! Let’s get this show on the road, everyone!” Changbin fucking screamed from his place on the other side of Minho. Everyone covered their ears instinctively, Hyunjin - the drama queen - writhed around as if he was bleeding out.

“Hyuuuung, I’m right next to you! For the love of god, shut the fuck up!” Jeongin collapsed against Chan on his left with his fingers in his ear sockets. Minho joined the yelling with a ‘yah!’ of his own, making you crash into Jisung in an attempt to escape the noise, earning a laugh from the quokka.

Once Chan and Felix situated the game together and plopped a large beer can in the center, the boys were itching to begin. And to be honest, you were too, many fun times flooded your memory as you peered down at the game, filling your brain with pure bitter-sweet nostalgia.

Several rounds passed and you ended up being picked as Jisung’s ‘mate’ when he drew an 8, making you have to join him every time he was forced to take a drink. Which was a SHIT TON apparently with how horrible he was at this game. People had several varieties of drinks in their hands so the ‘pot’ on the side of the ring was filled with an absolutely repulsive concoction by the time the fourth King was drawn by none other than the little baby bread. He swore to the heavens that he would never play this game again as he gagged copiously.

With each Jack that was drawn came worse and worse rules. First, everyone simply had to say something nice to the person on their left any time they had to drink - courtesy of sweet Felix.

Jisung drank a lot so you were basically showered with exaggerated compliments. However this meant you also had to drink, showering Minho with little sassy remarks like ‘I guess you are tolerable’ and ‘you dance pretty good for a man with acrimony tendencies’. He was constantly sour back at you but you could tell it was all in good fun. You quite enjoyed playing with him. Uhm... well maybe not like that... Even though you wouldn't exactly mind that either... Oh god, don’t be dirty minded stupid brain.

Second Jack was to completely speak in third person, if you didn’t you had to take a straight shot of Jäger. A few got caught on that one, but not as many as you had expected.

Thirdly, nasty ass Minho decided you needed to literally lick the bottom of Jisung’s foot if you didn’t end every one of your sentences with ‘I am Minho’s bitch’. And, let me tell you, everyone avoided that penalty like the damn plague. Much to Minho’s dismay, everyone escaped that fate.

And lastly, the final Jack to be drawn landed in the almighty Hwang Hyunjin’s greedy hands. Everyone hunkered in suspense as he conjured up the final rule with an evil grin.

“Okay I’m ready!” He sat up straight with pride written across his angelic face. “Any time you cuss…” You can already predict everyone to fail. “…you have to kiss the person on your right. With. Tongue.”

Jaws dropped across the room. “Damn, babe. You’re ruthless.” Felix said with a hungry smile from Hyunjin’s left.

“And you love me for it. Now pay up.”

“Hell yeah I do.” Felix harshly grabbed his boyfriend’s face and smashed their mouths together in a passionate kiss. The room was equally filled with either cooing at the couple or sounds of disgust. “You do realize that Ji is probably going to have to swap spit with me, right?” Felix realized this as he pulled away.

Hyunjin just shrugged his shoulders. “Collateral damage I guess.”

“Hyunjin, you’re the devil incarnate. You know the majority of us curse like sailors.” Hyunlix just cackled at the Chan’s devastated reaction.

Meanwhile, you were legitimately having an internal melt down due to the fact that, against all odds, you could end up not only making out with one, but both of your blueberry boys. If Minho cusses, you might as well die on the spot.

“Piglet, if you mutter a single goddamned word, I will throw you in a legitimate meat grinder.” Minho was seething at Changbin sitting on his left who looked like his soul just evacuated from his body. He nodded in compliance without another word.

The game moved on and the air was thick with tension, most everyone had resorted to silence, save for Felix who just wanted to suck Hyunjin’s face off.

When Jisung failed the category game again, you groaned in frustration at having to take another drink with your ‘mate’. “Ughhh, what the actual fuck Jisung?! I swear, you're doing it on purpose just to spite me!” Everyone gasped and gawked at you. Your peculiar expression portrayed your pure confusion to the men. What the hell happened? Oh… Ohhh fuck.

Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you stared down at your lap in disbelief. You refused to make eye contact with both Minho nor Chan as you turned to face Jisung’s cheeky grin.

“Hyunjin, I would like to worship you for this glorious moment in my lifetime. I have truly been blessed.” He bowed to the tall man as deep as he could manage in his seated position to which the action was returned. When he turned back to you he gave you a soft look.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ve been told I’m an excellent kisser.” You saw his eyes float down to your lips eagerly. It’s not like you hated the idea of kissing Jisung, he was incredibly handsome and his lips definitely looked kissable as fuck, but he was just the cute little quokka you have come to know and love. Your mouth craved a different set of lips...

“Jisung…” You were flabbergasted as Minho and Chan spoke up at the same time again, both with same murderous expressions. You at least knew why Chan was being an ass, but Minho? It was beyond puzzling as to what was going on in his mind. Don’t even think about it…

“Oh come on you two, stop babying her! It’s just a game!” Seungmin was obviously thoroughly enjoying the show from his spot between Hyunjin and Chan.

You chuckled, a little more relaxed from the puppy’s lightheartedness. “Okay you feisty quokka, get over here…” He was already sitting fairly close to you, but he scootched closer nonetheless. It’s just a kiss, no need to make it weird, right?

You made the first move as you placed your palms on his chubby cheeks and pulled him in close. You felt his hands respectfully gently rest high up on your waist as your lips lightly touched.

“We need to see tongue, you scaredy cats!” Right. That. You initiated the task - reminded by a fairly tipsy Jeongin - by slipping your tongue out to meet his.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was a good kisser. Not too slobbery and not too stiff, a proper, sensual kiss. If this were... someone else... you would want to kiss them for days on end. The only problem was the fact that there were no sparks. No stirring feeling in your gut that indicated you really wanted it. Nothing like your most recent kiss…

You felt a broad hand wrap around your forearm as you were being yanked backward. “Okay! That’s enough! We get it! Task done. Move on.” Minho announced a bit too loudly as he released his vice grip on your arm.

“I am officially the luckiest man in the room!” You laughed at Jisung's proclamation when his hands lifted in the air. You couldn’t help but glance in Minho’s direction as Jisung reiterated his happiness. He was glowering down at you with fire and hunger in his eyes like you had never seen before and you felt heat zap up your spine and reddening your face. Welcome back butterflies.

“I beg to fucking differ!” You watched as Felix dived on top of Hyunjin to execute his ‘penalty’.

You heard Changbin clear his throat. “Well then… that was hot as h—“ you heard him pause and shrink away from Minho in terror as he caught his own curse. “-hhhhades! Y-yeah. Hades. *Ahem*” You could almost visibly see him mentally seal off his speech from then on.

“Are we going to continue the game or not?” Chan was visibly fuming, glaring daggers across the table as Jisung feared for his life.

“Cut it out Daddy Bang Chan, it’s just a game.” Felix rolled his eyes and took his turn. 

As the game went on, of course Jisung ended up cussing. Everyone hollered as Jisung and Felix got down to business, except for of course Hyunjin who just grimaced and turned away.

“You asked for it, hyung!” Jeongin pointed out to the disgruntled ferret, already sloshed from the nasty concoction earlier.

The tab on the beer can in the middle of the circle got progressively closer to popping the seal as the previously drawn cards filled the space underneath where everyone had slipped them to fit. Everyone held their breaths as the next person after the next entered their card carefully, praying they wouldn’t hear the telling *tsss* that indicated the seal had been broken.

Minho tactfully drew from the circle, making sure not to break the ring of cards. “Four is for whores! Drink up, whore!” An extremely wasted Felix pointed at you from the other side of Jisung. You loopily giggled as you gulped down the fifth glass of your watered down alcohol from the ice that has melted. You had an extreme lack of judgment as you leaned your dizzy body to rest against Minho’s shoulder. You immediately noticed how he tensed up.

“Fuck it.” Your brain glitched over Minho's cursed words and you peered out at the group of bewildered faces. Minho then decided to unceremoniously shove his card under the tab of the can - with no small amount of force - and promptly popped the seal, indicating the end of the game.

Your mind was in overdrive as you watched him fulfill his duty of chugging the whole can in one go and crunching the empty aluminum container once it was empty. Without warning, his warm hands cupped the sides of your jaw and angled your head up to meet his.

Your body was on fire. His eyes were ravenous and you could feel yourself drown in them as he pulled you closer, lungs refusing to cooperate. When his lips touched yours, everyone in the room disappeared, leaving only the two of you sitting blissfully in the universe. Your lips intertwined freely and your tongues explored each other’s mouths.

He tasted like shitty beer and liquor, but you had never tasted anything more addicting. You could feel your fingers involuntarily glide through his dark locks of silky hair and his thumbs caress where they were placed on your cheeks. Holy fucking hell please don’t let this be a dream.

Your euphoria was abruptly stolen from your grasp as you felt the warm hands and lips leave your skin hastily. Your drunken mind made you want to cry from the loss.

When you opened your droopy eyes, you jolted to your feet - making you stumble gloriously - when you saw that Chan had yanked Minho away and was holding him up by his shirt collar. “What the FUCK, Minho?! The game was over! You didn’t have to force yourself on her like that you piece of shit!” Minho’s face was completely devoid of emotion as his friend cursed at him.

“CHAN!” With all of your intoxicated might, you shoved your best friend away from Minho. “He didn’t force shit on me and you know it!”

The rest of the room had also jumped to their feet and were ready to intervene if things got ugly. “Hyung, it was just a part of the game…” The sweet maknae tried to insert a voice of reason.

“In his defense, Chan-hyung, he technically broke the rule before the game was officially over.” Jisung hid behind Changbin as he tried to protect his best friend.

You and Chan glared daggers at each other while the room fell silent. “Whatever, Y/N. You don’t want me to care anymore? Fine. Here’s me not giving a damn.” With that, Chan stormed out of the room and shrugged on his coat, slamming the front door behind him as he left the apartment. He barely ever uses your given name.

You don’t know when it had happened, but tears were cascading down your face in buckets. You hid your face in your hands to shield your ugly-ass crying face from your friends.

You felt the warm arms of the man at your back wrap around your front in a tight hug. “I’m s-so *hiccup* sorry Min…” You refused to reveal your face from your safe space in your palms as you choked on your sobs.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I’m not hurt. It’s my own dumbass fault anyway.” He chuckled. You know he was just trying to cheer you up, but it just made you sob more.

You could hear shuffling throughout the room and you could feel another pair of arms wrap around you. You were almost positive that it was Felix from the lithe frame of the body. Then you felt another, then another. You were afraid to look up and see just how many of your friends were trying to comfort you.

“You know he’s just trying to protect you, noona. You know that right?” You weakly nodded your head and assumed Seungmin could see it from wherever he was at.

Once you felt the sobs that were wrecking your body subside, you lifted your head from your hands and saw all seven of the boys crowding around you. You were exponentially emotional from the situation and you felt extremely undeserving. Chan was the reason you were here with them. Hell, Chan was the reason you were even still alive, really.

“I need to make this right…” You started stumbling towards the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Changbin had a hold on your wrist. “It’s the middle of the night and your fucking plastered, NO WAY are we going to let you go chase him around when it’s dark out and you’re as boiled as an owl!” He pulled you back to the group as Jisung and Minho bracketed you on each side and threw their arms over your shoulders.

“Let’s get to bed, Kiyomi. You can talk to Channie-hyung in the morning.” Jisung smiled at you brightly and you returned it with a weak grin.

“Okay…” You took one last look at the front door and worried about your best friend. He had been drinking too...

After everyone bid good night to each other, you quickly texted Chan.

 

Kiyomi😈:

Let me know when u get home, kay?

We can talk in the morning but I really do love u Channie…

G’night pup.

You tense in anticipation when you receive a text almost immediately after.

Channie🐺:

I’m home

It takes a minute longer but then you see another message appear.

Channie🐺:

I love u too, sis…

Get some sleep, sweet dreams

You could almost cry in relief when you felt that your relationship wasn’t completely in shambles. How could it be? You two were family. Always would be.

The three of you crashed onto the California king bed together in the room with the ensuite. Jisung on your right side and Minho on your left. It felt weird, almost wrong , to be laying in bed with two incredibly attractive men. But to you, they weren’t really labeled strictly as the opposite sex, they were so much more to you.

The two boys hugged you on each side, squishing you into a sandwich and squeezed a strangled giggle out of your mouth. When they relaxed their grip, you couldn’t control the words that fell out of your gob. The phrase being all-too-common coming from your mouth. “I don’t deserve you guys…”

“Stop saying nonsense.” Minho cupped his hand over your mouth while Jisung tickled your sides. 

“Ack! Okay! Okay!” You cackled at the feeling. You brought your hands up to rest on both of the arms that were wrapped around your tummy and you sighed in content as you closed your eyes.

- - - - - - - - - -

You slowly regained consciousness as you felt a rustling in the bed next to you. As you turned your head, you saw the warmth of Minho leave the bundle of blankets that incased the three of you. Just as he was about to leave, your arm moved on its own to grab onto his wrist.

“Please don’t leave…” Your half asleep slur made him smile and sit back down.

He patted your head that most likely looked like a rat’s nest. “I’m not, little mouse, don’t worry. I’m just going to get some water.” His words were hardly above a whisper.

“Oh…” You reluctantly released his wrist and he briefly rested his hand on the back of yours. “...well…I want some too, then.”

“As you wish. I’ll be right back.” Not even a witty quip back?

It took a couple minutes, but he eventually creeped back in the room quietly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping quokka. The water was nice and cold and soothed the stinging acid left behind by the liquor. He crawled back in bed next to you as you sipped on the refreshing liquid. When you handed it back to him, he took a few large gulps for himself and sat the glass down on the nightstand.

The two of you naturally faced each other with Jisung at your back. You and Minho laid there and stared into each other’s sparkling eyes. For some reason it didn’t feel awkward. It felt sweet and intimate as if unspoken words were lingering in the air between the two of you.

Your mind wandered back to when he broke the rule in the game. It was beyond obvious to everyone of the risks and tension of the penalty. ‘Fuck it.’ Fuck it, he said. There’s no way that was an accident. Well, you know what, you agreed with him. Fuck it, there was no point in holding back now.

Faster than you intended, you scooted closer to him in bed and grabbed his head with both hands, fingers running through his silky hair yet again. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to get over his beautiful mane. No matter what color. Your eyes moved from his blown out eyes down to his plush lips. The expression on his face was equal parts of surprise and anticipation.

This moment. This is what you’d been longing for. You pressed your lips to his and he eagerly returned the kiss, snaking his arm underneath you so he could wrap both hands securely around your waist. The kiss stayed slow and controlled, the both of you simply enjoying the relief of each other’s touch. Fucking finally.

You were only mildly aware of the sleeping quokka behind you, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Right then, it was only you and Minho, and he was way more intoxicating than anything you had drank that night.

There was a growing ball of heat that consumed your core and you felt like it was best to break the kiss before you lost all sense of proper judgement. You backed away with one last chaste kiss and stared into his eyes once more, heavy breathing emitting from both of your chests. You couldn’t control the huge smile that made your cheeks ache in a happiness that spread across your face.

He returned it in kind. “I kind of like you, little mouse. I think I’ll keep you.” You scoffed at his whispered words, but the annoyance wasn’t able to reach your face as the smile still consumed the space.

“Wow, what a smooth talker. Oh how it makes me swoon.” He chuckled and it seemed - no matter how hard he tried to suppress it - he couldn’t shake his own smile either. You watched his face get nearer and saw as his vision focus on your lips. You prepared for another heavenly kiss, but you suddenly felt yourself being pulled away.

Jisung had apparently rolled over and decided he wanted to cuddle in his sleep. His arm was pulling you in by your waist and his face was buried in the crook of your neck, lightly snoring like a baby pug. You and Minho shared a perplexed expression and when your eyes met, the two of you bursted out in giggles that wrecked your bodies.

The whole bed was shaking from the both of your guys’ hysteria. It was a damn miracle that Jisung didn’t wake up. That boy slept like the dead.

After several moments of smiles and light pecks, you and Minho fell back asleep with fingers intertwined.

- - - - - - - - - -

Boop.

Boop. Boop.

You wrinkled your nose in irritation.

Boop.

You groaned at the pokes you felt across your face, disturbing your sweet dreamland of pancakes and bacon. You could almost smell the delicious scent from the vivid images your mind had conjured up.

Boop.

“Kiyooomi… wakey-wakey…” You smiled at the warm, deep voice of Felix on the other side of your slumbering eyelids. Without much thought behind it, you reached out to the void in front of you until your hands found the small arms of the boy and you pulled him down for suffocating cuddles. “Haha! Kiyomi, you faker!”

He wrapped his arms around you to return the embrace. “Ten more minutes, Lixie. I feel like I just woke up from my deathbed.” You snuggled into his chest and felt the dark clouds return to your consciousness.

“GOOOOD MORNING, SUNSHINES!” Your eyes flew open to the sight of a flying quokka landing a full lunge onto yours and Felix’s balled up forms. You groaned loudly as he joined in the cuddle party. “Wake up lady! Changbin-hyung and Minho-hyung are making breakfast for our sorry, hungover asses.”

You quickly sat up and realized that that smell wasn’t from your dream as your body floated on its own to follow the delicious scent. “Holy fuck. Why didn’t you say so Lix? I’m starving.”

The small blonde shrugged and followed you out. “I was enjoying the cuddles.”

You could feel the smile overflow your face as you stepped into the kitchen and saw the two boys hard at work. Just like your dream had envisioned, a fluffy stack of pancakes and a simmering pile of bacon made their appearances to the side of the work space. You squeezed in between the two men that were diligently working together by the stove and threw your arms over both of them.

“You guys are my goddamn guardian angels. I thought I was going to die.”

“That's a shame. If you died, we could have had sausage and bacon.” You shoved Minho’s chuckling frame to the side.

“I take it back. You–” You pointed at Minho. “-asshole, are a whole damn slice of devil’s food cake.” You shot an exaggerated set of piercing eyes in his direction.

“Is that so? How do I taste?” The man looked like a predator stalking his prey as he scooted back over close to you. You felt your whole face light up in flames and butterflies stir in your gut as you stepped away from his tempting smile. You taste how a motherfucking dose of black tar heroin does to a drug addict. You moved to the other side of Changbin, out of sight from your personal demon.

“Can you two stop dicking around? You’re going to mess up the perfection of my flapjacks.” Changbin whined with an over-concentrated look on his face as he poured another circular form on the skillet.

“Hyung, let’s be real, it was ruined as soon as you took over the task.” Felix said from his spot by the sink, washing his hands.

“Yah! Do you not want any Yongbokkie?!” 

“Sorry Binnie-hyung! Love yooou!” Felix hugged Changbin around the neck briefly and you followed the ball of sunshine to help as he scurried away to set the table.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Lix, don’t worry about driving me back home. I’m going to get a head start so I can talk to Channie, okay?” You had finished your breakfast - barely making a dent before you felt like you were going to burst - and were walking out of the kitchen after you cleaned your dishes. You didn’t eat an extraordinary amount, but you felt more full than you had in weeks. To say the least, Minho was not happy with the amount of leftovers you slid off onto Changbin’s plate.

You informed the other of your plan when you passed the Aussie in the dining room as you headed back to the room to collect your things. “You sure?” His words were muffled with the amount of food stuffed in his freckled cheeks and you nodded with a confident smile on your face.

“I’ll help you get your things together.” Minho stood from the table and followed close behind you as you stepped into the room. 

Once you were safely inside, you froze in your tracks when you heard Minho shut the door behind him. You slowly turned around to face him with an apprehensive expression, heart thumping in your chest as you waited for his next move. But as you looked at his face - where you had expected to find amorous fires emitting from his eyes with a confidence that only Lee Minho could exude - instead, there was a somewhat insecure longing. You had never seen such a look on him, but damn him to hell for looking so freaking beautiful no matter what expression he held.

“Y/N…” He took a hesitant step towards you. “You know that I like you… right?”

You had never seen him so unsure of himself. He always held a confident and intimidating attitude that melted you to the spot, so this reaction was quite startling. You wanted to take away anything that could possibly make him feel anything less than the force of nature he was.

You smirked up at him to stride over to where he was standing, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Unless you kiss everyone like that, I would say I’ve had an inkling.” You could feel him physically relax under your touch and finally felt his muscular hands slither around your waist.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say quite like that, but my cats definitely get plenty of my smooches.” His wink and blinding smile had returned to his face and you could feel it carry over to your own. You felt magnetized to him as your arms subconsciously pulled him down for a reassuring kiss. It sure as hell felt real now. Now that neither of you were drunk or half asleep, the both of you moved like it had always been that way.

The arms that wrapped around you made you feel even tinier than you already were with the way they almost doubled over around you. The warm pressure of his lips made you sigh in pleasure and you found yourself reaching up on the points of your toes to get closer to him. The tongue that snaked out to meet with yours tasted like butter and maple syrup and you drank in the pure bliss the taste brought to you.

You lightly gasped as he pulled your body flush to his and you felt your skin set aflame when his fingers glided up and down your back through the thin material of your top. The skin on the back of his neck felt like lava and you skimmed your fingers underneath the collar to try and feel of more of the satin flesh. You were visibly keening when you felt his fingers find the bottom hem of your silk shirt to do the same.

“Hyung, can you help me w–” You almost screamed when you heard none other than Han Jisung step into the room, but your voice couldn’t express more than a squeak. Minho looked indubitably pissed when you jumped backwards and he whipped around menacingly to face his best friend.

Jisung quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “Ji, wait, it wasn’t w–”

“Well well well! It’s about damn time you made a fucking move, hyung!” Jisung crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at Minho while your brain short circuited. “I was prepared to tell her MYSELF if you kept your gob shut any longer.”

You stared at the pair, completely lost. “W-what?” You looked at Minho expectantly.

He meekly turned back to you as he scratched the back of his neck. “I may have *ahem* mentioned once or twice that I kind of have a thing for you…” He chuckled nervously. So… this wasn’t a new thing for him? He’s had these feelings for a while now? Holy shit…

“He only told me, though. I’m pretty sure everyone else is completely oblivious. Even though I'm not sure how they could be when he looks at you the way he does.” Blueberry #1 just stood there with a smug look on his face when Minho turned his attention back to him.

The feline took a step toward the quokka with malice. “YEAH, which is why that bullshit you pulled last night with your filthy lips was NOT FUNNY.” 

Jisung put his hands up in defense. “Hey, I’m not the one that cussed, she was! Besides, how else was I going to pressure you to get the fuck on with it?”

You stood flabbergasted as you watched the boys bicker. Minho rolled his eyes. “Well you definitely seemed a bit overeager to get your hands on her…” You had then decided that Minho's pouting was now one of your favorite things to witness.

“Can you blame me though? I haven’t gotten any action in AGES and she’s actually a fucking goddess with those lips!” Jisung threw you a sly wink, making you blush furiously.

Blueberry #2 came back to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Yeah, I know. So get your own, Sungie! And give us some goddamn privacy while you’re at it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He traipsed over to the door and started to step out before turning back. “But, Kiyomi, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” He flashed yet another crooked grin and winked at you once more.

You couldn’t help but giggle when Minho threw a pillow directly at Jisung’s face, the latter closing the door before it could meet its mark. You heard the fading sound of laughter from the quokka on the other side as he walked away.

You felt an overwhelming sense of giddiness consume you. You gently walked up to the man still glaring at the closed door and placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to turn around and face you. “Hey Min?”

As he turned around, his face softened. He brought his left hand up to cup your cheek. “What’s up, my little mouse?” You blushed and look down with a smile on your face, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze. “Oh? What’s this? The girl that was sucking on my tonsils a few minutes ago is feeling shy?”

Damn him, he’s not wrong… You harshly punched him in the shoulder. “It’s not like you were any better! Anyway, as much as I would love to bicker over swapping spit, Chan is probably waiting for me…” You turned to collect your things and you felt a strong hand pull you back.

He abruptly spun you around to roughly grab your waist and - in contrast to his hands - he gently pressed his lips to yours. He sensually moved his mouth against you, not quite chaste, but also not quite open-mouthed. “When will I see you next?” He breathed against your lips.

You felt dizzy from his proximity and ethereal face. “I... I don’t know… it depends on how my talk with Channie goes. I’ll text you, but I might not see you until class on Monday.” He pulled back with reluctance.

“Okay, well… I hope everything goes okay. I know he loves you unconditionally and he means well, so I hope you two go easy on each other.” 

You smirked at his comment. “Wow, I think that’s the softest, most heartfelt thing I’ve ever heard you say!” You grabbed his shoulders and turned him left to right as if you were inspecting him. “Is my cat broken?”

He dramatically rolled his eyes at you and suddenly you could see a scheming glint pass over his eyes. You trembled when he stepped closer to you with a bone-chilling smile. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his lips grazing your lobe. “Would you rather I be rough, little mouse?” His hands landed on your hips and he pulled you flush to him with force. God, I’m a weak, weak woman. You felt like a horny teenager all over again when you found warmth starting to swim through your core, right down to your groin.

You pushed him back in an attempt to avoid the temptation with the whole group just on the other side of the door. “You're the devil, Min. We don’t need the whole friend group to hear you getting ‘rough’.” You tried to glare at him, but you were pretty sure you just looked like a stubborn child.

Where you expected to find more teasing, you found the opposite. “Oh…” He awkwardly dropped his gaze and you wondered if you had said something wrong. “So you don’t want them to know?”

Your heart broke when you saw his downcast face. “It’s not that I don’t want them to know that I’m yours! I'm just not quite ready for Chan to murder you…”

He nodded in understanding, then his face grew that cocky, crooked smile once again. “Sooo, you’re mine?” He bit his bottom lip and all you wanted to do was bite it for him.

“Don’t get cocky, Minnie. You’re still on a tight leash, babe.” What the fuck? The word just instinctively fell out of your mouth and you were mortified at how upfront you were being.

He stepped closer to you again with that darkness in his eyes and regained purchase on your waist. “Babe, huh? I like that, say it again.” He licked his lips and bit it again in anticipation.

You weren’t sure where your sudden confidence came from, but you leaned in close to his ear in preparation to whisper. “I have to leave, baaabe .” You quickly pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and skipped off to gather your belongings, leaving a blushing statue behind.

- - - - - - - - - -

You took a deep breath as you stood in front of your apartment door. Patience, Y/N. Patience and understanding. Nerves wrecked your body as you opened the door to enter your living room.

You immediately spotted your best friend pacing in front of the kitchen and your heart instantly dropped. He looked awful. His hair was disheveled and there were bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept all night. He has insomnia, so you were usually used to this, but he looked way worse than other sleepless nights.

Once your eyes locked, you broke down. You ran up to his anxious form and wrapped your arms around his neck. Tears streamed down your face as he squeezed your waist in a tight hug. “I- I’m so s-sorry Channie. I love you so much and I don’t want us to fight anymore… you deserve someone better than me as a shit friend…”

He squeezed you tighter, leaving you slightly breathless. “Kiyomi, I wouldn’t trade you for anything or anyone on this god forsaken planet. You mean the world to me.” He pulled back and wiped your alligator tears away with his thumbs and laid a small peck on your forehead. “Let’s gather our bearings and veg out to chill for a bit before we work things out, yeah?”

You meekly nodded but refused to let go of his neck. He chuckled at your clinginess and picked you up to lay you on the couch. “I’ll go get snacks, you still want pretzels and chocolate?” You eagerly nodded your head and offered a small smile. No one could ever know you better than Chan.

- - - - - - - - - -

“I- I just don’t think that you need to worry about me 24/7, Channie. I love that you care so much, but I’ve protected myself over these past years that you’ve been gone, haven’t I?”

He hung his head low and nodded. The anime and snacks that had previously been helping to avoid the difficult conversation were completely ignored as the two of you tried to reconcile.

“I suppose that is true. But mom and dad moved you here so I can protect you, love you, and give you a better life. I don’t want to risk you getting a heartbreak or worse from someone who doesn’t love you unconditionally…”

Your face morphed into a sad smile. “Channie, you know that love doesn’t present itself right off the bat, right? If I don’t even get to try, is that really living life to the fullest? I want YOU to date. I want YOU to have a special intimacy with someone. I want YOU to have someone so you don’t feel lonely anymore. I’m not sure if what you have with that one girl is serious, but I have the same fears for you. I don’t want you to get hurt. But even if you do, that is part of the risk of finding someone better.” 

He chuckled under his breath. “It’s times like these where you show that you really are the noona and not the little sis that I treat you like…”

No shit. You smiled at him with the kind of love a mother would give to her child. “So will you tone it down?”

“...I will... try… but please - for the love of god - don’t choose one of our friends. I absolutely love them, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable thinking about any of them…” He shivered in disgust. “...doing… things to you.”

You froze, limbs going stiff and face dropping to a frown. Luckily he was focused on snacking and not your reaction. The ‘things’ that you were wanting to do to Minho flashed through your mind and you knew for sure that Chan would murder him if he ever found out.

You sat there in silence and sadness, but Chan leaned over and hugged you warmly. “I am glad we had this talk, Y/N. I felt awful that we were at odds. I love you so much.” You briefly relaxed and hugged him back.

“I love you too, Channie.” You stared over his shoulder blankly while wrapped in his arms. Now you knew you really had to hide the fact that you and Minho were a thing. A thing? I mean what are we really? You couldn’t help but ponder to yourself, ruminating over the fact that there may or may not be something concrete between the two of you, but you didn’t know what to call it.

When the two of you were ready for bed, you agreed to snuggle that night. The way that you were used to doing growing up when his insomnia was at its worst. He always said it helped him sleep and you definitely felt like he needed the assistance that night.

He laid a kiss on your head as he took over the position of big spoon. “Night, Kiyomi. Love you.”

“Nighty night Channie.” You stared into the darkness and battled with your own thoughts. How am I ever going to tell Chan about Minho?

Needless to say, you didn’t get much sleep that night.

- - - - - - - - - -

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

R u and Chan-hyung all good?

Little Mouse🐭😘:

Thankfully, yes 🙌🏼 

But, um…

Kinda have bad news too…

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

😳 Uh oh

At least ur still breathing

I assume

But do tell

Little Mouse🐭😘:

U free tomorrow?

I don’t have to work tomorrow since it’s a Sunday

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

Hmm 🤔 I’ll have to check my schedule

But I think I can fit u in 😉

Little Mouse🐭😘:

Wow. I’m so touched 🙄

I’m spending a lot of the day w/ Chan

U know, reconciliation and shit

So I’ll probs be there around 7pm

Cool? 👍🏼

 

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

I’ll be waiting 😘

You were nervous and excited that morning. Nervous to tell Minho the uncomfortable news, but excited to spend the day with your best friend and your… ‘Man? Lover?’... whatever Minho was to you - that night.

The day with Chan was spent going to Lotte World. You had never been to an amusement park and Chan was as giddy as a school girl to get to show you around. You had decided that you love roller coasters. The thrill of it gave you tingles in your nerves that made you feel like you were flying. Much like the feeling of riding the motorcycle with Minho.

Chan went all out in giving you the full experience. You were not sure how he possibly could have wracked up that kind of money from his ordinary fitness trainer job, but he sure spoiled you nonetheless. Popcorn, cotton candy, ginormous soft pretzels, hot dogs, and ice cream. That’s not including all of the random carnival games where he won you a mountain of plushies. The most impressive was when he won you a cat stuffed animal that was as tall as a fully grown man when he hammered the high striker.

You couldn’t believe the sights and sounds of laughter and fun that filled the air. You felt like a kid again and Chan was with you through all of it. You looked over at your self proclaimed brother and laughed as he fumbled with all of the plushies. When you reached Felix’s car - that you guys borrowed - and he sat down all of the fluffy toys, you hugged him tightly with a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Channie. You are the greatest man I’ve ever met. You take care of me so well.” He hugged you back impossibly tighter.

“Love you, big sis. You deserve all of the happiness in the world.” You smile and your heart swelled with your love for this man. 

When you got home, you helped him dump all of the plushies onto your bed. You weren’t sure if you should tell him that you were going to Minho’s. Chan was already uneasy with the two of your guys’ relationship and you didn’t want to stoke the fire.

“Hey, Chan. I have some friends that are needing tutoring in calculus tonight and I was going to go help them at one of their house’s.” You felt slightly guilty for the lie, but you knew the risk of telling him the truth.

He gave you a flabbergasted face. “Kiyomi, you absolutely suck at calculus.” He looked so confused and his face twisted extremely crooked. 

Shit, he’s right. I should have picked a different class. You thought you could play it off, but it didn’t even sound convincing to you. “Yeah, tell me about it. I told them that too, but they insisted.”

He slowly nodded his head. “Okay well, be careful and let me know when you get there and let me know when you are headed back, okay?”

You chuckled at his fatherly instincts. “Yes, sir!” You raised your hand to your forehead and sarcastically saluted him, earning a small scoff.

Before you left, you snuck a tiny kitten plushie with you out of the door.

- - - - - - - - - -

You texted Chan to notify of your arrival as you stood outside of Minho’s apartment door. You didn’t know why your nerves were going haywire. You had already stayed there before. Maybe it was because you two weren’t together before? Were you two together? Anyway, let’s get on with it.

Your knuckles rapped on the door panel and almost instantly you see the ethereal being that was Lee Minho standing on the other side of the threshold. All you could muster was a breathless “Hi” as you stepped into his entryway. Once he closed the door behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist against you in a back hug as you took off your shoes.

“Well hello, little mouse. Fancy meeting you here.” You turned around in his arms to face his smoldering eyes.

“I figured it was a nice spot to chill.” He smirked at you and you could see him lean in for a kiss.

You decided that you wanted him to earn it. Before he could touch down on your lips, you pulled the plushie out from behind you and held it to his face. He looked shocked as he leaned back, unhooking his arms from you. He almost looked hurt from the obtrusion of his advances.

“What the hell is that?” 

“It’s you!” You smiled triumphantly as you held the cat up to his face. “I got it for you! That way you have a little mini Minho to keep you company.”

“Awww” He pinched your cheek. “What a sweet little mouse.” You pierced your lips together and swatted his hand away.

“Well then, I guess if you don’t want it, I can always give it to Ji…” You pulled it away but he snatched it from you quickly and walked away with a grumble. As you followed him, you see that he had placed it on the center of the island in his kitchen.

“There, now I get to see it every morning when I eat breakfast.” He turned around and smiled mockingly down at you. You felt giddy with the way he looked at you, feeling as if you were lucky to even be in the same presence as this man, let alone having intimate encounters with him. You turned around to hide your blushing smile and walked over to plop down on the couch. Not even a second after, the man sat down next to you with his legs crossed, fully facing you. “So what’s the news? No more brownies before bedtime? He needs to walk you home from school?”

His smirk earned an unamused expression from you. “Wow, you’re a true comedian, you know that?”

He simply shrugged. “Maybe I should change jobs.”

The seriousness of this man is severely limited. “I think you’re better at dancing.” You patronizingly patted his shoulder. “No, but Chan and I have restored harmony, which was the biggest relief I’ve ever felt before in my life…” He nodded, but you looked at him hesitantly. “...and he’s okay with me seeing people…” Minho’s face lit up like a damned Christmas tree and your heart sank. “...but… he said he doesn’t want it to be anyone from our circle…”

You deflated when you had to witness his face drop. “W-what? Why?”

You sighed in frustration. “The fuck if I know. Something about him not wanting any of you guys doing ‘things’ to me.” You raised your eyes to the ceiling and then dropped your face into your hands.

“So, is that it? We can’t see each other?” You whipped your head up to look at his frustrated face and you were sure you looked like a terrified puppy as you grabbed onto the hand that was resting on his lap.

“W-well, not necessarily… we just might need to… I dunno, keep it on the down low?”

He held your hand in return. “Well… as much as I would hate to keep you a secret… I suppose it’s better than nothing.” You two sat in comfortable silence for a moment and Minho seemed to be contemplating something. You couldn’t keep your eyes away from his beautiful face, fearing that he was considering that it might not be worth the trouble. That is until he looked up at you with a smirk on his face. “Sooo…” He leaned in a little closer from his spot next to you. “Care to elaborate on the ‘things’ Chan-hyung was worried about?”

You felt the blood rush to your face and nervousness swirl around in your gut. You definitely never anticipated this is where the conversation was going to go, but, hell, no complaints from your end. “Care to take a guess?” You feigned your confidence when, in reality, you felt like you were going to pass out from anxiousness.

“I might have a few things in mind…” He whispered against your lips, suddenly right in front of your face. You felt your resolve crumble as he pressed his lips to yours. A teeny tiny sliver of your subconscious whispered to you that you were betraying Chan, but it was nothing compared to the burning hot desire you were currently feeling.

You basically jumped him as you threw your arms around his neck, making him chuckle as he almost fell back against the arm of the couch from your impact. You wasted no time in coaxing him to let you explore his mouth, which he did so eagerly. You’d never tasted anything more addicting than Minho, hinting at a bit of dark chocolate and citrus.

Your upper body leaned against him, while your lower body remained respectfully seated on the couch. You ran your hands through his hair and under the hem of the collar of his shirt while one of his hands claimed purchase around your waist and the other was rubbing up and down your thigh. And my god did it feel heavenly. He repositioned his crossed legs to halfway sit on the sofa proper while his left leg folded underneath him to lean in closer.

His tongue was extremely experienced and you were sure you were currently soaking in your panties from the intensity of the situation. You decided to take matters into your own hands as you pulled him down on top of you, slotting him in between your legs. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth when you felt the effect you had on him through his tightening pants.

“God, you’re so sexy.” He whispered as his lips moved to nip at your ear. Your body moved on its own as you grinded up against him, seeking the sweet friction from his body. The sound of heavy panting filled the room and the hands that were currently on your hips slipped down to grab underneath your thighs, lifting them slightly so he could press even closer to you.

You whimpered as he grinded down on you with his mouth sucking on your pulse. You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him impossibly close. You almost felt desperate for more of his touch. You were new to this but all your instincts could think about was feeling him all over.

While your legs were wrapped around him, one of his hands moved from your thigh up to the hem of your shirt, teasing with it to silently ask permission. “Minho, if you don’t touch me right now I think I will actually combust.” You felt his smile against your neck and he roughly grabbed your shirt, leaning back to shuck it off your body.

You slightly felt embarrassed as he intensely looked down at your body, running his hands over your sides and protruding ribs. You could've sworn for half a second you saw a sad smile cross his features, but then he licked his bottom lip as he slid his hands to cup over your bra. You silently praised Felix for the black, lace bra he provided you with. “You're so goddamned beautiful, Y/N…”

You didn’t expect it when he laid himself on top of you again, switching his movements against your lips to a slow, intimate kiss. Your body melted on the spot and decidedly resolved yourself to allow this man to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to you. Your heart was pounding as you two gently moved your tongues together in a delicate dance, his hands massaging your breasts all the while.

You arched your back as he wrapped his arms around you to allow him to remove your bra, much more controlled than the last time you two fooled around on this couch. He wasted no time in throwing the lacy fabric to the side and running his palms across your bare breasts. No man had ever touched you under your clothes (not welcomed hands anyway) and you felt as if you were hyperventilating.

He flicked his thumbs over your sensitive, pink buds and you couldn’t sustain the squeak that escaped your mouth. “Hmmm, I like to hear my little mouse make those sweet noises.” You were sure your whole body was flushed as he moved his open-mouthed kisses down your chest. You felt another wave of pleasure pulse through your groin as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked  hard .

You whined as he moved from one nipple to the other as to not neglect the other from his abuse. All you could do was lay there in suspense as he continued the journey of his lips down to your navel, the absence of his hard erection making you whine. “Oh, god, Minnie…” He thumbed at your clit through your jeans and you immediately took matters into your own hands. “Bedroom, now.”

With that, he swiftly lifted you from the couch (Damn, he’s strong) and shuffled to the bedroom to gently lay you down on the bed, quickly pulling off his shirt like a damn porn star and making his dark hair fluff from the friction. You giggled as he pounced on you and peppered kisses all over your face, eventually landing his lips on yours. It was hungry this time, pressing into your mouth furiously.

His hand snaked down to your navel and eventually popped open the button on your jeans. You were almost scared of what was to come, not knowing what to expect with another person’s hands on you. Well… hands that you actually wanted on you. However, this fear was quelled as he reached in and massaged your clit over your panties. Your eyes fluttered closed and you threw your head back with a loud moan, running your hands over his soft, toned chest in an attempt to gain purchase on something to ground yourself.

His mouth moved back down to flick his tongue over your nipples. “You’re so soft, baby.” He gently nibbled the swollen bud and you almost drew blood as you bit your lip. You lifted your hips as he peeled off your skinny jeans and he propped himself up on his knees between your legs. His eyes refused to leave yours as he slid his hands up the inside of your thighs. You were visibly quivering and you were embarrassed of the effect he had on you. 

He smiled down fondly at you. “Don’t be afraid, darling.” He moved one of his hands to caress your cheek. “I’ll take excellent care of you.”

You were speechless as you just nodded at him. He returned to your aching sex and lowered his body to kiss your inner thigh. “Holy fuck…” You breathed in a whimpered tone. You were immediately praising yourself for keeping yourself neatly groomed down there every day. You could feel his cheeky grin on your skin as he slid his tongue further up your thigh. His face hovered over the black lace that matched your bra and he stared directly into your soul with fire in his eyes. Never breaking eye contact, he closed his wet mouth over your clit through your panties and you felt like you died and went to heaven.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your body couldn’t help but squirm from the delicious new sensation. He grabbed your hips to keep you still and your already soaked panties got even wetter as his saliva seeped through the fabric he was sucking on. Surely - with how you were bugging out like a teenager - he knew that you’d never done this before, right?

Your breathing picked up to hyperventilation mode as he thumbed at the hem of your panties. His mouth left your bliss button and you huffed in frustration. He chuckled and raised his body back up to whisper in your ear, grinding his bulge down on you all the while. “Calm down, little mouse. I don’t want you passing out before I’ve even started.” He pecked an open-mouthed kiss under your ear and sat back up to continue his previous ministrations.

He looked hesitant as he looped his index fingers through your panties, looking in your eyes for approval. “Please…” you whispered. And that's all he needed to swiftly slide your panties off your legs. You were completely naked and vulnerable in front of this man, but you didn’t feel scared of being touched. Not like last time…

He plunged down in between your legs and latched his mouth onto your bare, sensitive pearl, swirling his tongue around and making you whimper like a puppy. Grabbing onto your wiggling hips again, his mouth closed over your clit, he sucked hard . And goddamn was he a fucking god at this. You never thought anything could feel this good.

That was until his mouth moved down. Your knuckles were completely white as they gripped onto the sheets. He had traveled his tongue down to the base of your folds and licked up between them, ending the journey with a flick of your clit. You couldn’t hold back the cry that breached your lips. His tongue then plunged in between your slick lips and ate you out as if it were his last meal.

Your hands instinctively laced through his silky blue locks and lightly tugged on them, not pulling him away, but more to coax him for more. He received the memo and quickly looped his arms underneath your legs, using his pure strength to lift your pelvis to gain a better angle. “Fuck… shit… Oh god, Min! – ah!” One of his arms released your leg and guided his middle finger to join his tongue inside you. You could almost cry from the pleasure he was giving you.

You grinded down on him and he finally relented the attack with his mouth. He kept his finger inside you, slowly probing in and out as he moved back up to hover over you. “You taste so delicious, little mouse. So fucking good for me.” You desperately pulled him down for a kiss, tongues wrestling and you tasted yourself on his lips.

You whined into his mouth when you felt his index finger slide in next to the one already torturing you. You threw your head back, disconnecting your lips, when you felt him curl his fingers up and press against your sweet bundle of nerves that threw you into pure ecstasy.

He quickened his pace and you thrashed your body around, whining from the extreme intensity. He grabbed your arm with his unoccupied hand and pinned it to your side to lessen your movement. He latched his tongue to your clit again and it was too much to handle. “M-Minnie! I– I…” You felt waves crash over you as you released the tightness in your core, soaking the man’s face and sheets in the process.

“There we go, darling…” He left a sweet kiss on your inner thigh as he sat up to assess the damage. You closed your legs in shame, embarrassed of the mess you made. He looked up into your eyes with a sweet smile, putting his hands on your knees in the process, spreading them again. “Oh baby. That is so fucking HOT, you drive me crazy, baby.”

You felt your core heating up again, unable to get enough of this unreal human. You lunged up at him and tugged on his belt, slipping it out of his loops and undoing his jeans, loosening the tightness from his erection. Your eyes bulged out of your head when he pulled his pants down, displaying the ginormous tent in his boxers. The shakiness returned to your body tenfold.

You were terrified of your inexperience, afraid that you would humiliate yourself. You scooted closer to the edge of the bed and put your hands on his hips, eyes never moving from his painful looking erection. He stood there patiently, awaiting your next move. You hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided he deserved to know. “I– I’ve never done this before… you might need to help me…”

You could feel him tense up under your hands and you looked up at his face in apprehension. “Wait... are you a virgin?” You lowered your hands to your lap and looked down at them with a red face.

“Oh… O-oh shit!” He stepped away from you in a rush and pulled his pants back on at light speed.

You felt your heart sink and your head fill with desperation and doubt. “Min?” 

He scratched the back of his neck once his pants were fully on. “Y/N… I… I don’t know if I can do that…”

You felt the tell-tale signs of your stupid angry tears prick at your eyes. “You can't do what exactly?” You tried to control yourself, but your statement came off as extremely pissy.

He frustratingly ran his hand through his hair. “That’s… that’s a special kind of thing, Y/N… I can’t–”

“It’s so special that your dick won’t work?” You cut him off as you stood up and crossed your arms over your chest, feeling humiliated and exposed in your bare state. You began to pull up your soiled panties and jeans to at least feel a little bit of security. 

“That’s not it, babe–”

“You’re afraid to steal my ‘virtue’ or what the fuck ever? Well, news flash, I’ve lost that in about every other category.” You realized you were yelling now, staring daggers into him.

His scowl didn’t make you feel any better. “You don’t get it, Y/N. That kind of thing is not something that–”

Why the fuck did everyone judge your lack of ‘experience’? I’m not a goddamned child. You interrupted him again, not wanting to hear anymore. “Save it, Minho. You sound just like Chan! I thought you…” You cursed yourself for the unexpected tear that rolled down your cheek. You saw his face fall, but you were determined to stand your ground. “...I thought you wanted me…” You looked down at the ground and closed your eyes, your face twisted in anger. You didn’t want to face him anymore in you humiliated state. “But whatever, forget it. At this point, I’ll just stay a virgin forever. Or maybe I should just find someone with the balls to actually fuck me!”

You knew you didn’t mean it, but the rage that blinded you didn’t care. All you wanted to do was escape. And that’s exactly what you did. You marched into the living room to reattach your bra and pull your shirt over your head, immediately heading for the door with Minho close behind.

“Babe, please don’t leave…” He tried to grab your hand as you put your shoes on, but you yanked it out of his grasp.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me! Just…” The tears were streaming down your face and the woman you thought was strong, ended up to be just an emotional bitch baby. Just like you had been ever since you had stepped foot into this god forsaken country. “...just…” You gasped for air through your sobs, not knowing what to say in your anger. “...just fuck off, Minho…” You hastily turned and slammed the door in his face.

You skipped the classes you specifically shared with Minho on Monday and Tuesday, picking up an extra shift at work on Monday evening to drown your thoughts.

- - - - - - - - - -

You were balled up in your blankets as Chan walked in to bring you another plate of food on Tuesday, switching it out with the previous uneaten one in its place. “Kiyomi… please eat… I know you are feeling sick, but you aren’t eating enough on any given day already. I’m worried about you, hun.”

You stuffed your face into your pillow and mumbled back to him. “I’m sorry, Channie… I’ll try…” You knew you wouldn’t, but at least you could give him hope.

He caressed your hair with his face downturned in worry. “Okay, sweetheart. I’m praying for you to get better soon.” You smiled into your pillow and felt the black fog of sleep engulf you as he caressed his fingers through your hair. Chan is all I’ll ever need to make me happy, even if that means I’ll never have a real relationship with someone... These were the last thoughts that ran through your head as you drifted off into dreamland.

- - - - - - - - - -

You slowly regained consciousness and smiled again as you felt fingers still carding its way through your hair. You opened your eyes to look up at your best friend and almost jumped out of your skin when you saw another man. You had apparently jumped to the other side of the bed as you sat face to face with the man of your desires and heartache.

There was a moment of silence where the two of you searched each other's eyes, looking for some sort of explanation. “What the fuck are you doing here, Min?”

He looked down at his fiddling hands. “Um… tutoring? It is Tuesday, right?”

You scoffed and images of his rejection on Sunday ran through your mind. “Did I get lost in translation the other night? I specifically remember telling you to fuck off. Obviously you didn’t understand that included your company on tutoring days.” You crossed your arms and refused to look him in the eye.

“Y/N, please let me explain.”

“I think it’s crystal clear, Min. You are too much of a pussy to take my virginity. A concept that means nothing to me, by the way. Especially with the way I almost lost it last time…” You felt the prickling in your eyes of your potential tear ducts acting up and you tightly closed your eyes to hold them back.

“It’s not that it’s–” You peeked over at him sitting on your bed when he cut himself off mid sentence. “What do you mean ‘the way you almost lost it’?”

You kicked yourself for letting that slip. “Nothing, forget it.” You crossed your arms and faced away from him. He probably wouldn’t give a fuck anyway.

You felt a gentle hand rest on your knee and you almost broke down. “I know I might not be the most serious person in most situations, but please know that you can talk to me… I… I really like you, Y/N… the thought of you finding someone else to do that to you… it drives me crazy.”

You faced him and you were sure he could see your glossed over eyes that threatened to spill over. You hesitated, but after a moment of silence your hand naturally gravitated to hold the hand that was on your knee, intertwining your fingers and feeling his strong hand squeeze yours. You hadn’t realized how much you had missed touching him only in the span of a couple days.

“I… I didn’t really mean it, Min. I was just angry… I’d rather just forget about it…”

His face was downcast and his eyes were zoned out on your intertwined hands. “I feel like I know nothing about you, Kiyomi… I wish you wouldn’t hide from me…”

You looked up to the ceiling in an attempt to avoid your tears from falling. “It’s not that I want to hide from you, Minnie… I just have an ugly past. You wouldn’t look at me the same. Chan is the only one who helped me through it and the only one who has never judged me.” You looked down with a sad smile.

“Y/N…” You dared to look him in the eyes. “I want to be with you. I want to call you mine and have the honor to be called yours. I want to scream from the rooftops of how lucky I am to have you with me. I want to take you on dates and cuddle you when you’re sad. I don’t want to…” He looked down, considering the weight of his words. “...I don’t want to just fuck you, Kiyomi… I want to make love to you… but only when that time comes. You deserve your first time to be the best experience possible. Because you deserve to be happy, Y/N.” 

You didn’t know when you had started crying, but you only realized when he wiped away a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m not blind, little mouse. I know you have had some sort of shit happen to you… I can see it…” He freed his hand from your grasp so he could take both sides of your face in his hands, kissing your forehead gently. “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. But I would really like to know what’s going through your pretty little head when you fret over these things.”

He wanted to be with you, not only as a lover or a friend, but something far more intimate. You almost couldn’t process all of the words that were thrown at you, but as you cleared your mind of the fog of anger it once held, you found pure affection took its place. He was right, if you wanted this man, really wanted him (and you did) he deserved to know the truth.

- - - - - - - - - -

You looked down at the scrap of paper that had small lettering with shit handwriting of an address on it and looked up at the faded numbered door of a seedy motel, hoping the address was correct so you could get the fuck on with it. You briefly felt down to your boot, ensuring that your switchblade was secure inside your tight sock. 

The late autumn wind whipped around you and through your hair, causing you to shiver and grow goosebumps up your bare arms. Your jacket, admittedly the only jacket you had, had been ruined when your mom dropped the embers of a couple lit cigarettes and an ashtray on it, burning through the material. You should have at least worn long sleeves, but there was no point in ruminating on it now. The best thing you could do now was to get this over and done with.

You rapped on the door with your knuckle systematically and saw the blinds of the window next to you part slightly, inspecting who the visitor was. You rolled your eyes as the figure left. Do they seriously have to be so sketchy about it? As you waited for the man to open the door, you heard muffled voices on the other side of the teal, paint chipped door.

Once the door opened, you were quickly ushered to enter the room. “Ah, nice to see you again, Y/N! How are mom and pop?” The overweight man sitting next to a crappy table in the corner of the room shined a yellow, toothy grin at you. The two men who ushered you in the door retreated to resume their places on opposite corners of the room, one lighting the foul stench of a cigarette, the other scrolling through his phone.

“Can we please skip the pleasantries? I have school in the morning and I’d rather not chit chat.” You tossed the McDonald’s paper sack down on the bed, one of the lackeys grabbing it to inspect the contents. You watched as the man poked his pinky finger in the white substance and smeared it on the inner side of his lip, smacking his tongue to distinguish the taste.

“That’s it, boss. A full kilo.” You outstretched your palm to receive the roll of money that was sitting on the table next to a full syringe and a line of cocaine. Of course they aren’t satisfied with just one. The man stood up from his place next to the table and stepped towards you, making your fight or flight instincts flare up.

“Do you really have to leave so early? The night is young, little girl! At least stay for a drink.” He held up his lowball glass of brown liquor, making the contents slosh and the ice clink against the edges of it's containment. Your face twisted into one of disgust at his proposition.

“I’m good, thanks. Just give me the money and I’ll be out of your hair.” He huffed as he turned to grab the wad of cash, presenting it to you. As you went to claim it from him, he pulled it back.

“I think you could earn a little extra, kitten.” He licked his chapped lips and looked you up and down.

“Thanks but no thanks.” You tried to reach for it again, but he pulled it back further, making you lean closer to him. You stood back to your previous position and huffed. “Don, seriously? I don’t have time for this shit. Can you please just pay me so I can go?” You held out your hand expectantly once again.

Finally, he dropped the bundle into your hand and you grasped it firmly. You started to walk away, but when you turned around, your fear froze you on the spot as you watched one of the useless assholes pulling the chain over the lock on the door. 

There had been a couple of deals before where the recipient tried to hold you back, but they were easy enough to handle. Because you were a young, skinny girl, many thought you were a scared baby lamb. They were wrong.

You turned around with a blistering glare. “Don, what the fuck?! Let me out of here! You got your fix, you don’t need me anymore.”

“Oh, on the contrary, love. I think you have far better uses.” With that, the two men grabbed each of your arms, pulling you over to the bed and pinning you to it on each side. You cursed yourself for not watching your own back. The one that was smoking held up his cigarette to your neck and pressed the embers deep into your skin, making you scream in pain. The searing white pain fogged your eyes and fuzzed your mind.

When you regained composure, horror filled your veins as the fat man started unbuckling his belt and pulled down his pants and underwear in one go, showing his erect dick underneath bundles of fat. Sick motherfucking piece of cow shit.

Without even a second thought, your self defense instincts kicked in and you twisted your body in the men's firm grasps and wrapped your legs around the neck of the man on your left, making him relinquish his grasp on you as he tried to pry your thighs from his throat, choking and gargling on his spit all the while. You didn’t have much time before the other two men reacted, the larger of the two tripping over the pants around his legs and falling to the ground (fucking dumbass). And the man holding your other arm refused to loosen his grasp as you clung onto the other’s neck with your thighs for dear life.

The other man tried to pull you away, pulling your arm and twisting. You heard a pop and a grind in your shoulder followed by another yelp from your mouth from the pain, but you used the advantage of now having a free hand to punch his throat with all the strength you had in you. The man’s eyes bulged out of his head as he grabbed his throat with both hands, most likely having his esophagus collapsed. With both of your hands now free, you lunged over the bed to chase your escape, grabbing the money off the floor in the process and popping your shoulder back into its socket.

Both lackeys were clinging onto their throats in attempts to regain oxygen and the hefty man was rolling around on the floor, suddenly grabbing your ankle and pulling you backwards. Your body moved on its own as you reached down into your boot and flicked open the blade. You pulled back with a swift move and plunged the knife down. You heard a high pitched scream as you saw the sharp metal pierce straight through the middle of his hand, going all the way through and ripping through the tendons and veins there.

The hand that had held you captive retracted at light speed as he cradled it in his chest, whimpering like a baby. When you turned around, your terrified fingers trembled as you stumbled to slide the chain out from the lock with one arm, the other loosely hanging at your side. The pain in your shoulder would have to wait to be assessed at another time, because all the adrenaline worked towards one goal. Getting the FUCK out of there.

Luckily, you finally got out of the door just in time as you could hear Don yell ‘go get the bitch’ to his lackeys. You didn’t even hesitate to redirect your normal route to the bus stop, instead opting to round the corner of the motel and sprint through the back alleys of the area to sprint 3 miles to Chan’s.

- - - - - - - - - -

You sat in the dimly lit shed - and personal hang out spot - in Chan’s backyard and inspected your bruised knuckles from smashing that guy’s throat in. You felt yourself beyond lucky to make it out of there with only a few minor injuries. Your fingers fiddled with the loose strings on the bean bag’s covering that you sat on in the semi-decorated shed, making it seem a bit more homey.

Finally, Chan’s scowled face returned with a first aid kit and frozen peas in each of his hands, tucking one under the other arm to lock the latch of the door behind him. “You should just come inside so we can properly wash it.” He handed you the two bags of peas, one to place on your throbbing hand, and the other on your shoulder. 

He helped you as you flung a makeshift sling around your neck and secured it under your fucked up arm. He then opened the first aid kit on the small end table in between you and the other bean bag he sat in. 

“And let your parents see me in this state? No fucking way.” You winced as he pressed an alcohol swab against the ringed burn on your neck. The furious look on your best friend’s face refused to let up.

“I’m going to call the cops.” He didn’t look you in the eyes as he muttered the words.

You pulled away from his helping hands and glared at him. “Like hell you are! I wouldn’t have come to you if I were looking to get hunted down by drug dealers for narking. I’d just go home and suck it the fuck up.”

He just returned your glare and grabbed the back of your neck forcefully, continuing his aid with his other hand while he held you still. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Kiyomi…” He turned to grab the antibacterial ointment. “You’re…” You felt a pang in your chest as you saw his eyes water. “You’re going to get yourself killed…”

You took the bruised hand of your uninjured arm and raised it to his face. “That won’t happen, Channie. I’ve survived so far, yeah?” You dipped your head over to try and catch his fallen gaze. “Besides, I can’t leave my little pup to fend for himself.” You pinched the cheek where your hand was laid and he attempted to suppress his smile as he pulled away from your grasp.

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he lifted the swab of cream to your neck. He stayed silent though as he finished bandaging you. After he closed the kit, he patted your knee. “All done, sweetheart. Let’s go to bed, kay?”

You shook your head as you stood up. “No can do, love. I gotta get back home with this money before my dad has an aneurysm.”

“Would that be so bad?” He muttered bitterly. You panned over to him with an unamused face. “I can’t believe you keep going back to that shithole! Can’t you just come live with us?”

You scoffed and dropped your eyes to the ground. “Yeah, if you want them to come find me and harm not only me, but you and your entire family as well. It’s already been risky enough trying to keep you a secret from them…”

You felt his arms wrap around you and you buried your face in his shoulder. “I hate this, Y/N. I just want you to finally be free… safe.”

You deflated before you pulled back from him, trying to put on the most unaffected face you could muster. “Don’t worry about me, Channie. I’ve made it this far. I’ll be able to protect myself until I can save enough money to move out after graduation.” You offered him a sweet smile, which he halfheartedly returned. “Now, I have to get back before it gets too late. I don’t want them to come searching for me. You placed a peck on his cheek and showed yourself out of your tiny safe haven.

- - - - - - - - - -

You felt your skull crack against the cheap, hard linoleum flooring in the kitchen as your dad stood over you, your mom burning down the embers of a cigarette furiously in anxiety and talking on the phone a few feet away on the couch. “How THE FUCK could you lose us Don, one of our best buyers?!” You felt the breath leave your lungs as he landed a harsh kick against your ribcage.

You didn’t cry, you couldn’t. Your mind retreated elsewhere while your body laid there and awaited the end. “All for what?! Your stupid fucking pride?! If one of our buyers wants something, you do it, NO QUESTIONS ASKED!” Another kick.

“I know Don, we are taking care of the problem, just hear me out–” You faintly heard your mother trying to reason with the monster on the other side of the phone.

“If you can’t keep up with a stupid, fucking simple task, what good are you?!” A punch to the face this time, blinding your vision as you curled in on yourself on the ground. “You’re only taking up space here, so you’d better start pulling your goddamned weight!”

The anger that was boiling inside you released in a small snap. “He tried to fucking rape me dad! What was I supposed to do?!” He punched the side of your jaw, making you spit out a tooth and taste a disgusting flow of iron flowing from its place.

“If someone wants you to spread your legs, you tell them to pay up and then say WELCOME TO FUCKING POUND TOWN! Hell, it’s more revenue and a better use of your useless cunt anyway!” 

Your mother had ended her call and shouted over her shoulder. “He won’t fucking get over it! We lost him!” She slammed the bedroom door.

Your father’s face couldn’t get any more red. One, two, three more punches. You could feel the ring on his fingers denting and gashing into the bone and flesh on your face. You saw more and more blood build on his fist each time he pulled back. You could hardly believe it was coming from your body due to the amount of pain nearing the sense of numbness.

It was almost as if your soul had left your body, leaving nothing but a bloodied stick figure in its wake. Pain and acceptance was a dichotomy that was slowly blurring lines. Somehow, you were numb to the point of acceptance, but you were hyper aware of the feeling of every centimeter of your body. Your toes were scrunched up where they laid on the cheap linoleum. Your hands were balled in fists on your abdomen, attempting to protect your damaged ribcage, completely ignoring the pain that was already wrecking your shoulder. Your back was hunched into a ball like a fucking abused dog. And your face… you could feel the disfigurement increasing with every swing of his fist.

Once he stopped, heaving from his anger and effort, he spat down on your bloody and bruised body. “Find somewhere else to sleep tonight, bitch. I want you out of my sight.” With that, he turned and slammed his bedroom door behind him.

You laid there for a good ten minutes, uncontrollably shaking as you failed to get up. You were sure that one of your ribs was broken and you knew your nose was broken. When you finally came to, you limped your way over to the bathroom and examined yourself in the mirror.

The sight was grizzly, the entire left side of your face was flushed and swollen. You had a black eye that was swollen shut and cuts all over your cheek, jaw, and brow bones. The worst coming from your high cheek bone where you could feel the indentation underneath the skin into the hard surface of bone under the heavy flow of blood. 

Blood gushed out of your nose and you decided to bite the bullet. Picking up a nasty ass washrag from the floor, you shoved it in your mouth and bit down on it. With no small amount of hesitation, you counted to yourself. One, two, THREE . You heard a loud crunch as you snapped your nose back into place, blood gushing all the more into the washrag and sink as you removed the soiled cloth from your mouth.

You decided to bring the rag with you to hold up to your bleeding nose as you grabbed your rucksack and headed out of the apartment and into the brisk autumn weather. You definitely didn’t want to be present if your father had caught you still hanging around. It was about three in the morning when you had finally limped all the way to Chan’s house. You really didn’t want to call upon him twice in the same night, so you snuck around to the backyard and pulled a small key out of one of the pockets in your pack.

You snuck into the shed and locked it behind you, finally collapsing on the rug that adorned the decorated space. You laid there for no more than a minute before your vision turned to black.

- - - - - - - - - -

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, Y/N!!!” You awakened from your haze, sore and out of breath with the taste of blood still lingering on your tongue. Your vision was blurry at first when you opened your eyes, but eventually Chan came into view, on the ground next to you and tears streaming down his face. Your heart broke at the sight of your friend hurting. You tried to sit up to comfort him, but the pain racking from your ribs threw you back down with a thud and a whimper. He reached out towards you, but pulled back as if you were going to break if he touched you. “No no no, Y/N, why?! Why??? ”

You turned your head and tried to smile at him to quell his worries, but the smile only met half your face as the other half is still too fucked up. “Hey baby Channie…” Your voice sounded gurgled and rugged coming from your mouth. Funny, you wanted to ease his concern, but you probably just made it worse with how you sounded. You chuckled from the irony, making you cough up blood.

He reached toward you with tremored hands and a shaky breath. “I’ll take care of you, baby girl... I– I’ll fix this… I’ll fix this…” He sobbed into your hand he was holding and pulled out his phone with the other. You already knew what was going to happen. He was going to call the hospital - or worse, the police - and you would be utterly fucked if anyone found out. You weakly put your hand over his phone, making him look back at you with his blurry eyes.

“Channie… it’s okay… I’m okay, really.” You attempted a smile again.

“Bull fucking shit, Y/N! I LITERALLY THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!” He instantly regretted his words when you flinched from his anger. The tears refused to subside from his eyes as he gently caressed the less harmed side of your face with his fingertips. “I looked everywhere for you, sweetheart…”

You were utterly confused. “What do you mean, how long have I been out?”

He sobbed. “It’s fucking Wednesday, Kiyomi! I haven’t seen or heard from you since Sunday night!” You felt like you were hit by a truck with this news. You desperately tried to raise yourself from the floor, clenching your teeth through the pain. You felt as if you had face-planted down a flight of stairs while fighting a hangover. Your head rang and the world spinned on a top.

“Holy fuck, my parents are going to think I bounced on them. Fuck!” You fumbled around to get up from the ground, struggling to breathe, but Chan firmly held you down.

“NO.” Chan looked murderous when you looked up at him in frustration.

“Chan. You don’t get it. It’s one thing to be kicked out for a night or two, but the last time I stayed out longer than that, mom had locked me in the bathroom with nothing to eat for two days. I have to leave.”

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK! Tell your dad or who the fuck ever that you are staying away, at least until you’re healed. I– I–” The sobs plummeted out of his body and you gritted your teeth as you sat up to hold him. “Please. Please, Y/N! Don’t go back. I can’t lose you…” He wrapped his arms tighter and you cried out from the pain that shot through your diaphragm and shoulder.

You instinctively clutched your sternum and doubled over, eventually falling backwards again against the ground, knocking the wind out of you. His eyes looked horrified as he gently placed his hands on your arms. “Kiyomi, w-what–?” He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up without warning. You weren’t necessarily uncomfortable with it, you trusted him more than anything in this world. But you were afraid of what he would find underneath.

Sure enough, Black and blue bruises were blotched all over your exposed, protruding rib cage, an angry red surrounding it all. The man had fire in his eyes, shaking from ferociousness and most likely homicidal thoughts. “Fuck this, I’m taking you to the hospital.” He wrapped his arms around you, one under your back and the other underneath your knees, carrying you like a baby toward the shed door.

You screamed out in pain and the only indicative response that he was hurting to hear you like that was the slight hesitation in his step and the agony on his face. “CHAN PUT ME DOWN!”

“NO!” He yelled back through his tears.

“CHAN IF YOU DON’T PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW I’M NEVER COMING BACK!”

That made him freeze in his tracks. “W-what?” He looked down at your balled up form with saucers for eyes. “Y-you don’t mean that…”

“If you expose me, you won’t ever see or hear from me again. There is no way I could keep you and your family safe with ties like that to link my life back to you.” You were killing yourself to say the words, but your face remained fierce. Well, as fierce as it could be in its debauched state.

He turned back and gently laid you flat against the carpet again. You breathed a sigh of relief, wincing from the action momentarily. “Thank you Channie. I’ll… I’ll call mom and tell her that I need to lay low until I heal so the school doesn’t get suspicious. That I’ll find somewhere to stay out of their hair in the meantime… That should pass as a fair excuse, at least in mom’s eyes. Do you think your folks will notice if I hole up in your room? I’d stay out here, but at least your room has an ensuite bathroom I can hide in.”

He reluctantly nodded and pulled your phone from your backpack, hesitantly handing it to you. “Call her, I’m going to go make sure the coast is clear.”

- - - - - - - - - -

There were really too many tales to recount, each one worse than the next, so you decided on one of the more sordid stories, only briefly describing other smaller encounters. You had figured that if Minho really wanted to know, you might as well get the worst out of the way. You finished your trip down memory lane by telling Minho the reason why you were here. The reason you ever moved in the first place.

That night with your father. The week with Chan’s family. The move that saved your goddamned life.

You had figured he would be disgusted with you. Terrified or awestruck. You knew you would be if you were in his shoes. But all you could do was sit there in silence, refusing to look up and find out what the expression on his face had morphed into. The silence was deafening and the air crackled with preemptive lightning you knew was bound to come. 

But it never did. Why the fuck isn’t he saying anything? You spared a look at his hands and you saw his knuckles were completely white with a murderous grip. You slowly raised your gaze to try and read his eyes, consequences be damned. What you saw made a chill run down your spine.

His jaw was clenched and trembling, his nostrils flared, face red as his eyes were screwed shut. You could only speculate as to why he would be so mad. You supposed it wasn’t too far off that it was because you hid this from him, making him think you were a person you really weren’t. Chan was a pure golden hearted angel, never judging you or making you feel inferior - but realistically - you knew you couldn’t expect that from everyone. No matter how much it hurt to admit it…

You stood from the bed, wanting to be anywhere but there. Always running from your fucked up past. But you abruptly felt yourself being pulled back by the wrist, falling flat back down on the unmade bed with a thud. You felt the warm presence of the man of your desires wrap you in a tight hug, laying down next to your confused body in an unyielding embrace.

You felt all of your worries and machinations wash away as you pulled him indescribably closer, grateful for allowing you to burrow into him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, nor could he, so the two of you just laid there with your bodies intertwined and his consolatory hand ran up and down your back.

You eventually puffed out a shaky breath and looked up from where you were buried in his chest to look at his face. He stared back down at you with an expression that was part adoration and part agony. One of the arms that were wrapped around your back was pulled to your face, his fingers gliding over your forehead and behind your ear to brush a stray hair out of the way. His hand found its resting place on your cheek and the fingers of the hand on your back swirled around in soothing circles.

You looked into his glossy eyes and couldn’t control the natural force that pulled your lips to his. His thumb brushed over the permanent indentation in your cheek bone as your lips whispered and melded over each other. The moment was more intimate and loving than anything you had ever experienced.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “Y/N… H-how… w-why…?” You could tell he was at a loss for words and you shushed him with a chaste kiss.

“Min, it’s over now. I’m here and I’m fine. Chan saved me…” You offered him a small smile but he was remiss to return it.

“Well I can definitely say that a lot of the things I’ve been worried about have been made painfully clear now. How could you keep going back? You were literally on the brink of death, Y/N.” He stuffed his face in the crook of your neck. “I don’t even want to think of what those sick fucks would have done to you. I’ll fucking kill them.” He growled into your shoulder and you tried to calm him with your own ministrations on his back.

“It’s okay. Shhh… I’m sorry I kept it from you, Minnie. I was afraid…” He looked back up at you in confusion. “...afraid you would be disgusted with me. With the things I’ve done.” You refused to meet his eyes at your confession.

You felt his soft hand dip under your chin and lift it up to meet his eyes. “Oh, little mouse. Never think of yourself as anything less than extraordinary. You are the most strong, brave, and badass woman I’ve ever met. I think I’m starting to fall for you more and more by the second.”

Fall for me? As in love? That’s preposterous, there is no way anyone could feel that way about you knowing the things you’ve done. You were surprised enough that he didn’t run for the hills. You never could have even imagined ending up with someone who wasn’t already a pothead let alone anyone at all. You always considered Chan the only man in your life that miraculously loved you unconditionally, even if it wasn’t romantic.

He looked down at you as if he was seeing you for the first time. “So beautiful…” His hand smoothed over the curve of your waist and his eyes traced your body. He leaned in and breathed against your neck, the hot puffs stealing the air from your lungs. “So powerful for such a small little mouse.” The smell of him filled your nose with ginseng, sandalwood, and citrus and you got chills from the delicious aroma.

As his hand traveled down your body - over your waist, hip, ass - he stopped at the back of your thigh, lifting it to drag over his own hips. “Minnie…”

You’d never experienced this much desire in your entire life. Honestly, with your experience with sexual encounters, you thought you wouldn’t be interested at all. Meeting Minho completely reversed any of those thoughts and enhanced your libido tenfold. Surprisingly enough to you, you wanted nothing more in life right now than to jump this man’s bones.

You felt a wet kiss touch down on the base of your jaw and you loudly sighed in desire. You closed your eyes and felt hot waves of arousal spread over your body and through your veins, making electric shocks shoot to your nerve endings. Just a single touch from Minho was enough to thrill you into wanting and make you throw all caution to the wind.

You made your intentions very clear as you pulled your groin closer to his. Well, as much as you could in the awkward angle you two were in - facing each other on your sides. He responded in kind, grabbing your ass and pulling you flush to him.

He lightly suckled on your pulse and you threw your head back in bliss, allowing him more access. You slipped out a tiny whimper when he lightly bit the flesh on your neck, immediately soothing it with his delectable tongue. You could feel his hardening length tighten his pants as you pressed into him, making you giddy that he was just as worked up as you were. 

The haze of ecstasy momentarily cleared when a pressing thought crossed your mind. “Wh-where’s Chan?” It was only but a whisper, but you knew he had heard you, stopping his sinful actions to briefly respond.

“Gone.” He moved back to your mouth, planting a sensual kiss before whispering against your lips. “Said he’d be out late…” He licked up into your mouth and you clenched your thighs around him, feeling your shorts soak with your arousal.

You took matters into your own hands and straddled your personal, beautiful incubus. You paused to look down at his gorgeous form. His iconic look of dark ripped jeans, a black v-neck t-shirt, and that same damned sexy leather jacket. You wanted it all gone.

He seemed to be appreciating you as well as his hands ran up and down your thighs that bracketed his hips. Your hands lightly crawled up his clothed chest and parked on the collar of his jacket, gripping it firmly. You leaned forward and planted a small kiss on his cheek before whispering. “Minnie… I want you…”

The groan that left his throat was low and controlled. He involuntarily grinded his hips up, making you gasp at the friction. “Oh baby…” He closed his eyes. “You’re making this so difficult for me…” His hands traveled to grope your ass and grinded you forward.

“Ngh *gasp*… Well… if you aren’t ready… can I at least take care of you?” You said between movements, breathing heavily. You scooted back slightly and splayed your hand over his rock hard bulge to encourage him. “I want… I want to taste you…” His eyes were about to pop out of his head at your bold statement. You feigned confidence.

He was breathing just about as heavily as you were and you continued to stare into each other's souls. His face looked pained in conflict as he fluttered his eyes shut from your touch. “God, Kiyomi… you’re unreal… ” He opened his eyes and searched your own for any uncertainty. He would find none, you were hungry for him and you wanted to do anything that would show him that. You decided to be a bit more daring and deftly popped open the button of his pants.

He smirked at you with that confident smile that you hadn’t realized you missed until he graced you with it. “Well you seem to have already made the decision for both of us, eager little mouse.” You bit your lip seductively, egging him on as you steadily lowered his zipper. His eyes burned in anticipation and flit between your eyes and your wandering hands. “Are you sure you want this?” His face still had that teasing demeanor, but you could hear the genuine hesitation and indecision in his voice.

You paused the exploration of your hands to gently place them on his shoulders, kissing him with a slow, passionate tenderness that you hoped would ease his doubts. When you released his lips, you whispered. “I’ve never been more sure in my life. I want all I can get from you Lee Minho.” That was all it took.

His movement was swift as he sat the two of you into a sitting position with his legs swinging over the edge - you still straddling him - making you dizzy as his lips latched onto your cleavage just above the dip in your shirt. You used this opportunity to slide off his jacket and his hands slid up under the hem of your shirt to unceremoniously yank it over your head, freeing your braless chest and lithe frame.

For half a second, it seemed like he was looking at your figure in a new light, now having known the knowledge of your previous child neglect and linking it to your current self neglect. Although you were starting to fill out gradually with proper meals, you were still severely underweight. But after that second of contemplation, he gently kissed your belly, just above your navel. His hands ran up your sides slowly as he continued kissing your torso. When his hands traveled up to take purchase of your breasts, he softly flicked his thumbs softly over your perky nipples and - at the same time - laid a sensual kiss against your visible rib cage.

You sighed in pleasure at his pure affection and pulled back momentarily to peel off his shirt, your hands returning to run through his silky mane. You rolled your hips forward to seek out the sweet friction from his erection and he squeezed your breasts harder before releasing. His mouth replaced them to latch on to one of your nipples and, with his free hands, he blindly fumbled around for your pillow and threw it down on the floor at his feet.

You knew what your next task was, so you pressed a sweet kiss on top of his head and removed yourself from his lap, slinking down onto your knees in front of him and running your hands over his magnificent clothed thighs with desire penetrating him through your eyes. Your hands slid up his legs to the hem of his jeans, feeling each and every groove in the rough fabric, and you looped your fingers underneath them and his boxers. He awaited your next move, letting you set the pace.

When you tugged on them, he lifted his hips to assist you as you gradually pulled down the offending piece of fabric. Once they were finally thrown to the side, your gaze was blown wide at his bare tumescence. There was no fucking way you could fit all of it, but you’d definitely try like hell. You were surprised with yourself when you realized your mouth was literally watering at the sight.

“Min, porn can only teach me so much. I’ll probably need your help…” 

“Oh?” He smirked. “I wonder what type of porn my cute little mouse likes.” His condescending tone lit a fire in you. He leaned down to catch your gaze and whisper. “I bet it’s not so innocent, is it, darling?” His crooked smile challenged you and you wanted to do nothing more than gain the upper hand and wipe that smirk off of his face.

You unexpectedly reached forward and ran the palm of your hand up the length of his dick, applying the delicious pressure that you knew would make him weak. “Maybe you should stop stalling and find out for yourself how innocent I really am.” He shuddered and his eyes closed fleetingly, making you proud of the effect you had on him.

That was until he returned to that exigent glower. His admonitory hand raised to leisurely smooth his thumb over your lower lip. “I’ll never know until I see these pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” Your jaw dropped and it was your turn to quiver this time, making him sit back in triumph as your face lit up to an alarming shade of red. Damn him and his stupid ability to make me completely muddled with just a few words.

You absentmindedly licked the spot where his thumb grazed you and tentatively wrapped your hand around his length, your small fingers not able to fully wrap around the full width. He guided you with his hand covering your own, indicating the pressure and movements you were to execute. His dick felt like fire in your hand and it made your head spin to think about how it would feel inside of you.

The veins were prominent and you couldn’t understand why that turned you on so much. The level of arousal was apparent with how much precum he was leaking onto your hand and you felt your confidence skyrocket.

He was patient and alit with desire, but once you got the hang of it, he released you and let you continue your ministrations on your own. You could tell he was enjoying it by the way his breathing picked up and his eyes fluttered.

Again, continuing at your own pace, you placed a small kitten lick to the underside of his head, making him gasp at the abrupt sensation. The precum didn't taste awful like you had imagined, just a bit bitter.

Satisfied with his reaction, you tried to pull out some of the skills you had learned from your recent searches. Pulling away your thumb from your grasp, you completely flattened your tongue, making it wide enough to run from the base to the tip of him, flicking your tongue up at the end of his sensitive slit. You followed it up by wrapping your lips around the very tip of his sensitive head with tentative suckling.

A groan fell out of his mouth as he sighed and his fingers gravitated to intertwine through your long tresses. “Oh baby… fuck, you’re doing so good…” Your heart swelled with pride and you took in a bit more. “...just wrap your lips over your teeth and do what you feel is right. I trust you, baby girl.” You felt a fluttering in your chest and you realized that you wouldn’t rather be anywhere but here, sucking the life out of this man’s dick. 

You followed his instructions, sinking down further and trying to mimic the pressure you had used with your hand. As you had previously assumed - far before he was fully sheathed - the tip hit the back of your throat making you accidentally gag and pull off. You looked up at him with a pout. “I can’t fit it all…” You wanted to cry with frustration. All you wanted was to please him, which wasn’t characteristic of you at all. You were ashamed of yourself and hated the thought of him not being satisfied with you.

He cooed at your frustration and pinched your cheek. “That's okay my little mouse. Just do however much you’re comfortable with.” He grabbed your previously used hand and placed it on the base of his length. “This can do the rest, yeah?” His smile was one of adoration and your already flushed cheeks reddened even further as you meekly nodded to him.

You returned your mouth to him and his hands continued to lace through your hair. Once you were fully choked again, the hands on the back of your head gently guided you up and down, making you hum in appreciation. As your hand had worked the rest of him, you stared up at his face. Your shorts soaked even further when you saw that he had freed one of his hands from your hair so he could lean back on it on the bed, throwing his head back in pleasure and huffing from the euphoric feeling through his raw, bitten lips.

The precum that was oozing from the tip started tasting acidic and salty, but the underlying sweetness made up for the uncomfortable sting. The hum you vibrated against him earned you a strained croak from the depths of his throat and your pride returned to you.

You decided to redouble your efforts and quickened your pace with abandon, wanting to hear more beautiful noises from him. You tried with all of your effort to swallow down his ridiculous length and not gag, but it wasn’t an easy feat. You could tell he was struggling, but he was very well controlled when it came to vocalization. You didn’t want that.

You let your mouth take the reins and you swirled your tongue around him and flicked the slit on the underside like a lollipop, letting your saliva drool out of your mouth and down his shaft. That is what did it for him. His low groan almost sounded like a growl and the hand in your hair gave delicious little tugs. “Fuck, Kiyomi… baby *ngh* so fucking good… shit.” You hummed in appreciation and you could feel his dick twitch. Your slobber was dripping down your chin and it was messy as hell, but that turned you on even further.

His gut was palpitating and you could tell he was getting close. You made eye contact with him as your free hand slid down your body to tuck underneath your shorts and make circular motions on your sensitive clit. His eyes blew open wide and you groaned at the sensation you were granting yourself, the vibration on his dick was making him come undone. “I– I’m c– cumming…” He grunted out as he tried to pull you away by your hair, but you always knew one thing - the hottest thing a person can do is swallow. So you remained firm in your actions, speeding up and sucking harder. “Y/N–!”

You felt a thick, warm liquid collide with your throat and blend in with your saliva. You stroked him a few more times to milk out the rest and then slid off of him altogether with a loud *pop*. The taste was definitely more prominent, but with the tangy substance still sloshing around on your tongue, you made sure Minho saw it as you cleaned the rest of his tip with your dripping tongue, punctuating your action with a loud ‘gulp’ at the end.

It took a moment for him to regain a modicum of composure, but when he did, he spoke with a heavy breath. ”I now have no doubt in my mind, you are indubitably a motherfucking goddess.” He fell back against the sheets and you raised from the floor to follow him, draping one leg over his own and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You were just happy that you could make him feel good. It was a goddamned miracle that he didn’t bounce out on you as soon as he heard your story. So if that meant that you would just have to take care of your own aching pussy once he left, it was well worth it.

You looked up at his resting face and his beauty never failed to take your breath away. His sharp jawbone perfectly framed his gorgeous high cheekbones and the straight slope of his nose was as if it was carved from stone. His huge, beautiful eyes were closed and his long eyelashes fanned over his cheeks like black waves.

You could've stayed there forever, just basking in the pure ethereal beauty of Minho. You took in a large inhale of his musk and earthy scent and snuggled closer to him. His bare skin felt like velvet under your touch and you took a moment to appreciate his milk and honey skin.

You raised your hand and - once again - tangled your fingers through his silky midnight hair, lightly running the tips of your fingernails over his scalp, making him hum in gratitude. Your eyes finally landed on his delicious lips. His overbite was insanely adorable, but the plumpness and slope of his lips were sexy as hell. The heavy, hot breaths he puffed out of them turned you on even more.

You found yourself licking your lips and figured you could indulge yourself just a bit more of him. While his eyes were still closed and he was still trying to catch his breath, you latched your lips onto his briefly and sweetly before ghosting down against his skin on your way to continue your open-mouthed kisses on his jaw.

He was addicting, the light sheen of perspiration on his skin gave you a salty-sweet taste that made you want to lick him all over. Your tongue traveled further to fleetingly suckle and nip on his ear. The sound he made as he sighed out made your wet shorts even more drenched. 

You gripped his hair a bit harder as the other hand ran over his pecs and lightly defined abs. You started devouring him. Sucking hard against his neck, pulse point, collarbone, chest, anything that could elicit more of his sweet noises.

The arm that was wrapped around your waist underneath you snuck its way over the back of your shorts to gingerly kneed at your ass. His other hand raised up to travel his fingertips over your breast, tweaking the swollen nip periodically. His head craned back further into the bed to give you more access to mark him up and the hand that was exploring your breasts traveled further down.

His single index finger slid far too slowly down the center of your abdomen and dipped into your navel before traveling further. Your breath hitched against him when you could feel him teasing with the edge of your shorts. “Please Minnie…” You whined against his neck and you could see his dick twitch. Damn, does this man not have a refractory period?  

He gained a mocking tone of voice. “Well, since you asked nicely…” You breathed heavily in anticipation as he dipped his hand down the front of your shorts before he chuckled. “Tsk tsk, no panties? Maybe my little mouse isn’t so innocent. So naughty for me.” Blood ran to your face making it bright red and you never thought you would like dirty talk, but coming from his mouth it lit you on fire. His finger dove further down into your wet shorts and found your aching pearl. You cried out as he stimulated it with figure eight movements. “Is this what you wanted, baby girl?”

You frantically nodded your head in the crook of his neck, relenting your attack on his skin in response to his sinful activities. You’d been stimulated by him before and you could now confidently say that he was a pro at this. You were breathing against him rapidly as his finger teased at your labia. He dragged his finger through the center, but not quite inside you, ending his journey with a light flick of your clit.

“Damnit Minho! Stop winding me up!” You roughly bit his shoulder and he growled at the sensation. Before you knew it, he had pushed you over on your back and hovered over you.

“I’d like to see you make me. What can a mouse even do when faced with a tiger?” His evil grin made you glare in sexual frustration.

You looked down at his now fully erect cock and your hand flew to its base, making him choke on his words. You leaned up to whisper in his ear. “If you ever want your dick in me, whether it’s now or later, you’d better stop being a fucking tease.” 

You released his erection and he regained his senses. He climbed off of you in a rush and grabbed your ankles, roughly pulling you to the edge of the bed and got on his knees where you had been positioned just moments before. Your breath escaped you at light speed and excitement flowed through you like a babbling brook. He grabbed onto your soaking sleep shorts and quickly yanked them off of you (almost tearing them even).

“You asked for this, you damned bratty rat.” He growled. He immediately plunged two fingers inside of you and dove his face right in, devouring anything he could get his mouth on. His tongue joined the two fingers that were already relentlessly pumping in and out of you, making you whine at the stretch.

“Fuck–!” You watched his concentrated face as he probed you with his tongue while his nose stimulated your clit. He then moved up to your clit, sucking on it hard and looked into your eyes with an eyebrow raised as if he were taunting you. You had never felt so malleable.

Without warning, he added a third finger into you alongside the others that were abusing you. You belted out a high pitched yell and thanked god that both of your roommates were gone for the night.

“Is this what you wanted, frisky baby? For me to fuck you with my fingers?” He pulled off with your juices running down his face.

“Fuck– ngh! – I want– ah! – you to fuck me with your *gasp* dick!” His fingers were teasing across your g-spot and you were losing your composure quickly.

“All in due time, princess.” He curled his fingers up to abuse you right in the spot that made you scream. He leaned down to continue to lick up into you and flicked your sensitive bead when you felt the painful buildup in your core start to increase.

“Ah! Min please! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD don’t stop!” You saw stars burst and your vision went black for a half a second. You felt your release explode and soak your lovers hand and face, making the experience all the more euphoric. You would never let this man go if he could make you orgasm that hard just by eating you out. Your whole body was limp and you felt numb, only able to see him .

He raised up from his knees and licked his fingers clean while seductively staring at you. You would be swimming in your shorts from the sight if you were still wearing them. He then wiped his face with the back of his hand and walked into your bathroom. Moments later he returned with a damp cloth and started cleaning you. Can this man be any more fucking perfect? He threw the rag into the laundry bin and pulled his boxers on. Once he climbed back on the bed and hovered over you, that stupid ass smirk returned to his face. “Any other requests, my sweet mouse?”

Everything faded away as you looked up at him. You couldn’t believe that this man wanted you at all. It took everything in you not to cry from disbelief. You felt as if this were some sick trick, someone spending money to make this feel real just to eventually rip the rug out from underneath you and send you plummeting into darkness again. You wanted this to be real. You wanted Minho.

You grabbed his face and pulled him down so his lips could meet yours. It was slow and intimate, a drastic change from the earlier hunger. When you pulled back, you were inches from his face and staring deep into his two black pools for eyes. “Be my boyfriend.”

His smile was enormous and you had never seen anything more beautiful. He wrapped you in his arms and rolled the two of you over so you were flat on top of him with his hands tightly squeezing you in a hug. You dug your face into the crook of his neck to inhale more of his earthy and musky scent. “Fucking finally.” 

You looked up at him with an unamused face. “I assume that’s a yes?” He laughed at you.

“Yes, I suppose I will keep you around.” You giggled as you smiled at him and, again, he was all you could see, the brightest light smiling at you. He usually kept a confident or indifferent composure, but this was a completely different side of Minho you had never witnessed.

“Fucking finally…” You mocked and repeated his earlier statement and he squeezed you tight while rolling around on the bed. You protested but he continued rolling you around like a ragdoll. You suddenly realized that you were still completely naked. “Min!” You laughed as he winded up squishing you with his strong body flat on top of yours.

“Mousebed, 5 stars.” He snuggled up on top of your neck.

You squeaked out. “Min… I can’t breathe!”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” He kissed your neck gently.

“I’m gonna die.”

A dramatic sigh escaped his lungs and he reluctantly rolled over to lay next to you. “I would threaten you more, but I can’t hurt my new girlfriend just yet.”

“Just yet? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You sat up and looked down at him incredulously.

He formed an evil grin. “Pain and pleasure are just two sides of the same coin, little mouse.” He grazed his hand over your thigh and your heart dropped out of your ass. Holy hell this man is going to be the death of me. Your thighs squeezed together as your pussy started to ache from excitement. And of course the bastard's eye catched it. “Excited are we?”

You pushed yourself off the bed and glared at him. “No! I was just contemplating whether to punch your stupid smug face or not!” He sat up on the bed and watched your naked body saunter off to start the shower.

“Even though you might be the most badass girl I’ve ever met–” He said it loud enough for you to hear. Without realizing he came up behind you, he wrapped his arms around you after shucking off his boxers and the two of you entered the shower as he whispered in your ear. “But I can still make you weak underneath me, baby girl.”

Your heart palpitated as he trailed open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. “No marks, Min…” You breathed out your words in a desperate tone.

He hummed in response. “Hmm… It doesn’t seem quite fair that you marked me all over my neck, but I can’t claim you with mine.” He bit your earlobe, still swaying you back and forth with his arms around you from behind as the hot water cascaded down your bodies.

You twisted around in his arms and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him away at arm's length. He still had a cocky smirk on his face. “You want Chan to question me? Have me tell him that I’m fooling around with some other guy? You know he would want to meet the mystery man.” His smile dissipated into a scowl.

“Fuck no, I don’t want our circle thinking your fucking anyone but me.” He crossed his arms and looked like an annoyed teenager.

“Okay well, one: you refuse to fuck me. And two: the guys don’t and won’t know we’re together anyway.” He rolled his eyes and zoned out on the wall with his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. You put your hands on his cheeks and turned his head to face you. “What is it, Min?”

He grabbed your hands and pulled them off his face. “Do we seriously have to keep it a secret? It really is stupid.” His arms returned to their crossed position. “Do you not want people to know?” His voice was accusatory.

You glowered at him. “Min. Are you serious right now? Chan made his intentions blatantly clear. I don’t want my boyfriend to end up being a smear on the carpet, it would never be able to get that stain out!” That earned a repressed smile out of him and your annoyance slightly decreased. “You know I am more than proud to officially be yours… I… I just need time to change his mind…”

He tensed his jaw, closed his eyes, and let out a big sigh. “Okay…” 

- - - - - - - - - -

It had been a few weeks and you and Minho had been so busy with school and work, you only got to see each other in classes. Even your tutoring days were postponed due to constant work.

When you did find a break in your schedule, you had taken the chance to find a good doctor. She was able to get you set up with an IUD for good birth control. That is… if Minho was ever ready.

You couldn’t do much fooling around at the moment anyway with all of the work you had to do. The spring season made everyone want to get out and enjoy the air. Causing more people stop by the café and more work for you.

You didn’t mind work, you actually loved your job at the coffee shop, but it also meant less Minho time. You finally started taking orders when your boss was satisfied with your Korean speech and Hangul writing.

One day during work, the boss man came to check up on things. You actually really liked him, he was patient and funny. A really chill guy. So you decided you would try your luck at a suggestion for the business.

“Good afternoon Mr. Choi! How’s your day been?” He sighed and slumped into the back room office chair.

“About as well it can be with a full day of paying bills.” He cracked his neck and looked half asleep.

“Wow, my favorite days! Don’t you have a secretary or a manager that helps you with that?”

“Psh, I fucking wish. No, I’m alone in this fight.” He leaned forward in his seat. “So what’s up girly? You needed to talk to me?”

You caught yourself nervously fiddling with your fingers and pulled them to your sides. “Yes, sir! First off, have you heard of that lounge down the road? Eunsincheo?”

“Yeah! Pretty cool little place they’ve got there. Seems really chill.” He suddenly looked more lively and you regained your confidence.

“Yeah! It’s a really nice place! My roommate actually works there—“

“Oh yeah, that muscley guy that comes to see you all the time?” 

“Yeah! That’s Chan. Well, I go there a lot to see him and their coffee is… for lack of a better word, it’s complete shit.” He absolutely cackled at that and you chuckled to yourself. “Well, my point is, I was wondering if you had ever considered collaborating or creating a sister store? Both of our businesses are small and local and I feel like it would have a positive impact on not only our revenue, but also on theirs.”

He was nodding to himself in contemplation with furrowed brows. “Is this something you have discussed with their management?”

“No, sir. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself until I spoke to you first.” He seemed to appreciate that answer.

He suddenly swiveled to face the office desktop and pulled the agenda up on the screen. “How about this, you write up a plan and an outline of all the expenses and steps needed to take. I will email you a summary of our current budget and you can calculate what our potential revenue would be. If you can get that information to me by next month and it looks doable, I will let you handle the entire project.”

You almost couldn’t believe it. You were sure he would at least give you the stereotypical ‘let me think about it’ and then never mention it again. This was better than anything you could’ve asked for. You deeply bowed. “Yes, sir! Thank you so much!” You enthusiastically shook his hand. “I will work on that right away! You won’t regret this, sir.”

He laughed at your eagerness. “Well, it’s not a done deal yet, Y/N. It all depends on the budget.” He stood up and shook your hand again. “I look forward to see what you will prepare.”

You were almost jumping with joy. You couldn’t wait to tell Chan. Hell, if you got to be in charge of it, you could probably get to work at Eunsincheo with Chan, Changbin, and Jisung! Every day in this country kept getting better and better. The next time you decided to pay your dues to your Bang ‘parents’, you would have to let them know, once again, how grateful you were to them.

_________________________________________

Click here for Part Three

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