#(which would devastate me if it turns out to be the case)

[niuxita21]

If these two aren't meant to be in love with each other, someone on the directing team fucked up REAL bad lmao

#el grito de las mariposas #the cry of the butterflies #minerva mirabal #arantxa oyamburu #shitty screencap posts (TM) #omg wtf with tumblr's new photo set creator my shitty screencap posts look even shittier!!! #anyways the way I'm kweerbaiting myself here EYE have to laugh #came for the female-centric historical drama centering on a period of latam politics I know very little about #and stayed for the homoerotic friendship that's pretty on brand for me tbh #and yes I know kweerbaiting as such is not a thing but it's particularly funny here bc like minerva mirabal was a real person #so if she was not actually a lesbian that's on me for creating a story in my head lmao #that said the directing in every scene with these two is at the very least harold-adjacent #and older arantxa is FO SHIZ hiding something I just thought it was a torrid lesbian affair with the protagonist #but it could just as easily be that she did end up getting in bed with the trujillos and was maybe instrumental in minerva's execution #(which would devastate me if it turns out to be the case) #or that she's not proud of having been a dancer at that club because it does look like the female dancers ended up doing... other stuff #still not to worry bc as soon as I read that article about how the show was about the undying FRIENDSHIP between these two #I knew to lower my expectations #so then WHY do they keep having such bizarrely intimate physical contact and looking at each other like THAT like what is the angle here??? #still I'll stick around because I'm curious about what older arantxa is hiding if it's not lesbianism #and because minerva's actress is so fucking beautiful omg she looks like a young salma hayek it's hypnotizing #look at me back on my bullshit making posts of rare f/f pairings from shows no one's ever heard of #feels good feels organic nature is healing etc

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT.

Grandma cat!reader. Who was a old women who got experimented on and turned into a smiling critter but like the caretaker of the smiling critters.

Often seen walking around with a scruffed smiling critter hanging from her mouth(somehow-) and overfeeding the smiling critters or children.

How would a saved dogday and (maybe) good catnap react to the player bringing them to readers containment room. (She was locked in before the Hour of Joy due to something and just stayed there)?

I just want to see them get some sort of parental love 🥹😖

- Marshmellow🤍

I swear ya'll are gonna make me cry with these requests /nm <3

.....

Dogday

In your old age, you didn't wanna retire from Playtime Co. and spend the remainder of your life laying around, waiting for your body and mind to deteriorate.

So instead you became one of the few willing volunteers for the Bigger Bodies Initiative, being turned into a Smiling Critter (which made you especially happy since your grandkids adored the toyline and cartoon show).

In the show, the gang mentioned a grandma character several times (albeit she was unseen) and with Catnap being recalled from all promo materials, Playtime Co. took creative liberties and made you the newest feline replacement, fitted with a cinnamon scent and pie necklace.

Your tagline was something like "The Smiling Critters take care of our orphans, but who takes care of them? Why, their Grandma [Y/n], of course! She's full of love and wisdom!"

True to that, you became the caretaker of the Critters and children, ensuring everyone's fed well and staying out of trouble.

The incident with Bron (Thomas/Experiment 1199) had scientists rethinking how they'd introduce willing experiments to those...well..less-than-willing.

So you had a supervised introduction to the SCs (with children also present to discourage them from reacting violently). You were even given a containment cell you could retreat to in case of emergencies.

Luckily, you never had to use that room--as they accepted you and began calling you "grandma" since day one.

Dogday, especially, got attached to you.

You called him "DD" and "Doggy-Dearie".

Being a bit taller than the rest of them allows you to pick them up by the scuff of their necks if they're being too rowdy (Kickin and Hoppy, especially).

Even so, you're very sweet to all of them, letting them snuggle up to you as you shared stories and made them food so they could keep up with the little ones.

All was well in the Playhouse up until the Hour of Joy of course.

But you were unaware of it since Catnap sabotaged your room's lock, keeping you trapped to lower the Smiling Critters' morale.

Dogday was 100% convinced you were dead.

However you survived long enough for the Employee's arrival years later, never knowing what happened to the factory..

After rescuing Dogday, they find your door and powered it up, allowing the two entry into the perfectly intact space within.

Your fur was matted and you looked sickly, but you still jump up upon seeing the state your dear "grandson" was in.

It devastated you.

"My word..Dog-Dearie.." Your heart shatters. "Your legs..where are they? Where is everyone?"

Something inside of him ultimately breaks as he realizes you were alive...and you were here all along.

"G-Grandma...! Oh...god..I-I thought you were--" He crawls away from the Employee and towards you, sobbing into your lap. "You were h-here..this whole time! I-I wanted to see you, but..C-Catnap..he.."

"Shh, shhh..I'm here now, my sweet pup. It's alright." You hush, stroking his ears and resting a paw on his back, before looking to the Employee. "You must be terribly confused..as am I.."

After explaining your role--and calming Dogday down--the two tell you about what's happened to the factory, and at first you can't believe it...

Until you all wander through the Playhouse and see the horrid state it's in, but they're confused as to why none of the mini Critters attack you.

Only then do you mention feeding them over the years through little vents and holes in the walls, keeping their hunger moderately satiated.

Dogday feels awful, and even more upset at Catnap for lying about your fate.

But still, you don't show any ill-will towards any of the Smiling Critters, even if one of them had betrayed you all.

Instead you just let Dogday cling to you as you escape together and try your best to keep up.

Catnap

Like the rest of the Smiling Critters, Catnap considered you family and often went to you for snacks and such.

Or if he needs a break from trying to put all the rowdy orphans to bed in Home Sweet Home. Only then is he given permission to see you.

He always liked curling up in your lap, purring while you stroke his fur and tell him a story (which is sometimes an event from your old human life, albeit you do accidentally confuse yourself since ofc you're not supposed to remember any details of your old life).

The Prototype sees this as a problem, as Theodore Catnap was getting a bit too comfortable with his life here and needed a reminder of his mission....and so he tells him the truth.

About how you not only worked at the factory until you reached retirement age...but you were also a willing participant in the experiments.

And suddenly, he couldn't look at you the same way anymore. Only with resentment.

It wasn't fair.

You got to lead a long and fulfilling life. Theodore barely got the chance to grow up and be a normal kid.

You had the procedure and associated risks explained to you clear as day. Theodore never had the luxury of being warned ahead of time before he was grabbed and put under the knife after recovering from the incident with the green grabpack hand.

All he wanted was to free the others, but he ended up becoming their warden instead.

He almost forgot all of that because of you.

He refuses your food now, and you worry for him when you see how skinny he becomes as the months pass.

But he's very cryptic in the way he talks to you, the other SCs, and the staff...so you didn't know for sure what you did to upset him so much.

"Catnap, dearie..you're skin and bones. Let me-"

"I know what you were, and what you've become...the Prototype told me so."

You don't know what to say. What could you say when he kept talking about this "Prototype" person?

Despite his hatred, the SCs were conditioned to love you regardless, and so before the Hour of Joy Catnap decided to sabotage the locks of your containment room.

That way, he wouldn't be tempted to kill you...and he'd spare you from the grief of what he ends up doing to the other SCs, including Dogday.

Years later, when the Employee finally knocks some sense into him after saving him from being sacrificed to the Prototype, he takes them to your room, believing you to be dead from starvation.

Instead, though, they break you out and he discovers you're very much alive.

And Catnap just breaks down, groveling and begging for your forgiveness.

You were the one who always tried to reach out and comfort him, giving him some relief from the misery of being trapped in this factory....and he pushed you away.

But you don't hate him for locking you up, realizing that he still cared about you after all this time. Even when the Prototype told him about your past.

He wanted to keep you safe.

That alone proves he had a heart, and you reassure him of that as he cuddles up to you for a little while.

Once he's calmer, you go with him, Dogday (assuming he was saved), and the Employee to meet with Poppy and Kissy--both of whom are relieved to see you alive

#clanask #marshmallow anon #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #catnap #dogday #catnap x reader #dogday x reader #platonic #grandma reader #toy reader #headcanons #hurt/comfort

[hornedqueenofhell]

Shared Interests Pt. 2

Pt 1

Lucas pats him on the shoulder and grins at him, "You're doing much better Eddie."

"Don't condescend to me Sinclair." Eddie teases back and tickles Lucas's side, "You're the one who told me to do that stupid shoulder touch thing and Steve laughed whenever he looked at me for a week!" Steve may also have done it back to him at one point and made his knees go weak which just isn't fair.

"Wait, so is that why Steve asked if I wanted to learn how to pitch a baseball after we went up to cerebro for my date with Suzie?" Dustin had been confused at the time, wondering if Steve was trying to make him want to be a jock too.

Eddie nods and settles back in his chair, "Aside from the fact that I think he just wants all of you to be more physically active considering how much time we spend running from monsters, yeah."

Oh, Dustin had called it gross and sweaty and wanted to go home before he got a sunburn. And Steve hadn't complained, he ruffled Dustin's hat and told him to wipe his feet before getting in his car.

"Wait, does Steve think I hate him?" Fear bubbled through Dustin's veins, all the times Steve asked if he'd like to go see a movie or visit the library… was he going to lose his friend? 

"Mmmm, I wouldn't go that far per say." At the devastated look on Dustin's face Eddie quickly drops the act, "No Dustin of course he doesn't, Steve loves you dearly. You guys could stand to ease up on calling him stupid or shit like that because that does hurt him, he wouldn't tell you that even on pain of death though."

Lucas and Will share a look at that and Eddie suspects that this isn't the first time that particular subject has been brought up by someone. His money is on El. That little girl loves Steve with every fiber of her being and watching them read or work on El's catch up work together warms Eddie's heart endlessly.

"So we have to do sports stuff now? Because of Steve?" Mike looks like he's swallowed a lemon.

"You realize Steve has other hobbies besides sports right?" Eddie points out, "The guy is literally in school right now learning to do hair professionally because he's so good at it." Case in point baby Byers missing bowl cut and his far less frizzy curls.

"I like that he tells me everything that he's doing because I don't like people standing silently behind me. He does it with El too because she's so worried about her head being shaved again." Will pipes in causing Mike and Dustin to turn to him. "He cooks too, likes to help mom with dinner whenever things go late."

Eddie beams at Will brightly, "Yep, although he's a far better baker. I'm always bringing snacks to band practice now, Gareth would probably fight me to the death to marry Steve himself; his sweet tooth has never been so happy."

"Okay but how is just listening to him talk about hair 'sharing a hobby', that just sounds boring." Mike says, complete with poorly done air quotes. He’s trying to mimic Eddie again but can’t get the motion quite right.

"Mike, if you grew up in a house all alone outside of when the rest of the party came over for d&d or sleepovers how would you feel?"

"Uhh great, no parents fighting, no dealing with Nancy, no having to be the only one taking care of Holly."

"For the first few weeks, sure. But what about when the silence sets in? When you're sitting alone at the dinner table for months, having to make every meal yourself. When a tornado or a storm rolls through and you're sitting in the basement wondering how long it'll take for someone to find your body, if anyone would even care to look. When you're sick and there's no one around to help you make a bowl of soup or bring you water after you threw up again. When there's no one to talk to for days on end because your friends have families and lives outside of you. How much would a conversation about anything, even the most mundane thing ever, mean to you then?"

"That's not-" Eddie cuts him off with a look and Mike hunches his shoulders. Dustin wants to go give Steve a hug right now.

As if hearing his wish the door to the basement opens and Steve walks down the steps, “Hey babe.” He says cheerfully as he presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.

“Hello sweetheart, class go okay?” He places his hand over Steve’s on his shoulder.

“Someone messed up the bleaching lesson horribly today, I’ll tell you about it on the way because we will be late if we don’t leave soon and I know how much you enjoy making puns out of the players names.” Also because they get skimpy with the nacho cheese at the concession stand when you’re late.

“Alright, one sec and I’ll finish packing up.” He squeezes Steve’s fingers before letting go to start scooping dice into his bag. As he’s packing his stuff away Dustin bursts out of his chair and wraps his arms around Steve hugging him tightly.

“Hey man, where’s the fire?” He chuckles lightly as he hugs Dustin back, the boy's hat is digging into his chest but he doesn’t mind.

“This weekend, would you like to go to the library? We can go read comics or something.”

Steve smiles brighter than the sun as he squeezes Dustin tighter, “Yeah Dust, that sounds great!”

“I love you Steve.” He says softly into the older boy's chest. Steve’s not sure what brought this on, maybe Eddie did something in the campaign that scared them? He’d ask later.

“Love you too kiddo, get home safe and tell your mom hi for me.” He taps the brim of Dustin’s hat fondly before letting him go and taking a step back when Eddie places a hand on his shoulder.

“Ready love?”

Steve nods and folds his arm around Eddie’s waist, he had to get his clingy affection in now before they had to pretend to be just friends at the game.

“Alright we’re off kids, ponder the lessons you have received today and prepare for combat next time.” Eddie calls over his shoulder as he and Steve head out of the basement.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair

[mypoisonedvine]

virgin neil lewis with 11: “fuck, do that again... please."

your work is so fucking good i LOVE it

thank you so much love!! i got so many amazing neil requests but I love the idea of virgin neil c: kinda made him an incel lowkey...

warnings: noncon sexual content (18+ only!!), perv!neil, grinding, neil being a creepy nice guy with 0 stamina (aka my exact type)

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

Neil could be a little bit... well... touchy.

You mostly didn't mind it. It was just his way of being friendly and he usually made you laugh with the way he would randomly hug you from behind or tickle you or playfight you just to hold you down.

Every once in a while it would get weird, but not too weird; just his dorky, goofy sense of humor taking a jokingly-horny turn.

Well, you thought he was joking.

Like, for example, today—when you were on the couch arguing over what to watch (a common occurrence).

“No way,” he shook his head, “it’s shlock!”

“Just because it had a big budget doesn’t mean it’s shlock!” you defended.

“Oh yeah?” he challenged with a smirk.  “Just read the box!”

He snatched the DVD case out of your hands, flipping it to read the back as you tried to pull it away from him.

“In a world,” he began reading the synopsis in a deep, dramatic voice.  “See?  No good movie starts its premise with in a world—”

“Shut up!” you whined.  “Reading the back is cheating!  Gimme it!”

You leaned over him, trying to grab it, but his arms were longer; he held it up high and tilted his head back to keep reading: “In a world devastated by nuclear war—”

“You’d like it if you gave it a chance!” you insisted.  You couldn’t reach as high as him from where you were sitting, so you thoughtlessly hopped into his lap and lifted yourself up to get closer.  He yanked it away again, leaning to the side and watching you as you laughed and groaned and tried to get it away from him.  “You just need to see it, then you’d like it!”

Three things happened at once, right then: you moved to try to get the DVD from him, twisting yourself in his lap; his other hand grabbed suddenly and tightly onto your hip; and he stopped laughing.

You didn’t really notice it at first, just happy you managed to snatch the case from him.  You only really realized something was different when you looked at him with a smug grin which fell quickly.  “Neil?”

His lip was between his teeth, and his face was a little flushed.

“Neil, what’s wrong?” you wondered, relaxing on top of him, which only made you put more pressure against his— oh.

“Fuck,” he breathed, holding your hips with both hands now, “do that again… please.”

“What the fuck?!” you snapped.  “Are you— is that—?”

You tried to get off of him, but he was holding you down.  Your face flushed as you suddenly felt self-conscious about everything you’d done— about wearing these tiny lounge shorts, about getting in his lap, about coming over to see him at all.  He rocked his hips slightly under you, and you whimpered as you understood, without a doubt, that he was rubbing his erection right against you through his pants.  You could feel it throbbing, even.  You weren’t sure what was worse: the possibility that he got that hard that fast because you were in his lap, or that he’d been hard before when you two were just hanging out.

“Let me go, Neil,” you demanded, but your voice was weak and shaking; he ignored you, looking down at you in his lap as he moved you on top of him.  “Neil, stop—”

“Fuck,” he sighed, “you’re warm.”

He did it again, again; you felt sick and strange and sort of numb as he held you tighter, groaning under his breath.  “This isn’t funny,” you whined, “this is—what the fuck, dude—”

“Sorry,” he panted, moving you faster over him, and you grimaced as you were forced to feel the details of his cock against your pussy.  It was disturbing, really, how well you could feel it with these clothes in the way: you could feel the ridge of his head, the shape and thickness of his shaft…

You swallowed, blinking quickly, not really believing that this was happening—this couldn’t be happening, right?  Not to you, not with Neil, it just didn’t make sense.  “Stop,” you begged again, quieter yet more desperate than ever.

“I will, I will,” he promised, “I’m so close— I’m almost done, then I’ll stop— fuck!”

He tossed his head back, and you felt it flexing.  You watched in shock, confusion, and disgust as a small stain began to form on his shorts, hot come soaking through the fabric as his chest rose and fell quickly while he caught his breath.

You were speechless, and confused, and you had pins and needles all over as you tried to convince yourself that didn’t just happen— that your ‘friend’ hadn’t just used you to come, holding you down and rubbing you against him.  You’d felt so helpless and dirty… so why was there a wet patch in your own shorts, not from coming but from unsatisfied arousal?

His grip relaxed on your hips, and you could get up, but you were still frozen.  If you moved now, you might have to acknowledge that this was real. 

“Okay,” he smiled, still breathing a bit heavy, eyes still shut with relief, “we can watch your movie now.”

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #neil lewis dark smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

[ofjunemoment]

work it | na jaemin

Jaemin can’t quite keep a part time job; every time he gets hired, he somehow fucks up enough to be fired straight away. But he just can’t get fired from his job with you, not until he successfully asks you out on a date, anyway.

OR: How many times can your cover Jaemin’s mistakes before you blow up, or him. 

pairing — jaemin x fem!reader

genre — restaurant!au, slowburn, fluff, humour, smut (MDNI)

wc — 20k 

content — profanity, both jaemin and reader work at a chinese restaurant, kun, jaehyun, mark and shotaro mentioned, waitressing dynamics (im gonna be honest most of this is just me throwing words together and hoping for the best), smut tags below the cut :)

a/n —  *sniff* my baby.... i loved writing this so much because the dynamics is something i truly enjoy ^^ there were times i wanted to strngle myself because i just couldn’t think of how to but the scenarios into words but here it is <3 hope you guys have fun reading!!!! 

smut tags — making out, boob/nipple play, fingering, pet names, just the slightest bit of a dom/sub dynamic, lmk if i missed anything <3

Jaemin is in the back room of the pet store, looking at a big bag of dog food and a laminated paper with the number of servings needed for each pet section when he hears his boss call for him.

“Jaemin? You doing okay here?” He turns around to look at Mr Choi, showing a light smile and a thumbs up.

“All good sir, just trying to familiarise myself with each serving of the pet food before I try feeding them.” He waves the card around, the lanyard attached to it swishing around. Today was his third time coming in with a shift at the pet store, and although the place isn’t near his house, it wasn’t far from his campus either, which ultimately makes his travel easier. If he can go all this way to a lecture he won’t even remember, he can go again and again to make some cash and help his sobbing wallet.

Mr Choi grins, plump fingers clapping together in delight. “I knew I could trust you. You’ve worked in so many places so you must have adapted quicker.” At this, Jaemin’s smile strains a bit as he lays his hand on one of the food packets to seem normal. He’s not wrong, Mr Choi— Jaemin has worked at a lot of places. He started when he was fourteen at his uncle's small business in the night markets, looking after keychains and phone cases while his uncle would try to sell items with his marketing voice. His task was to answer customers when they asked for the price, and to find out the price he just had to remember the prices — and if he was really struggling, his uncle quips, you can look behind each sections name tag, where the prices are written in vibrant red.

But he was confident with the prices, who would forget that the key chains cost 500 won and the cases cost 1000 won?

Of course he wouldn’t forget, but he wasn’t correct either. The five and fifteen behind those items were actually 5,000 won and 10,000 won. And throughout the entire day when he would receive coins instead of the colourful notes his uncle was collecting, he didn’t even question it; he just thought his uncle was a top-tier marketer. Needless to say, he was ‘fired’ (he’s not sure if he was even supposed to be paid for his labour) and his parents took out the money he credited to his uncle from his savings.

You would think that the brutal action of taking someone's hard-earned pocket money would deter them from trying another job again until they were fully prepared to take on such professionalism. But Jaemin was devastated at the fact that he had lost his chore money while sitting down on a plastic stool in the hot summer's night market. And so he tried to get another job to attain back the money.

At age fifteen, for his birthday present, he had asked for a job opportunity from his parents. Reluctantly, they had asked one of their neighbours if they’d like to get their lawn mowed. After seeing Jaemin in the backyard a few times doing the gardening, they weren’t abhorred by the idea of paying him a small fee to clean their lawns. Excited, he set to work with the mowing, which was something he would do, but he didn’t remember if it was the growing bush on his left side or right that he was to avoid at all costs. Turns out it was both, which attained Mrs Choi’s sacred tea sprouts that she’d imported from one of the islands in between Malaysia and Indonesia, and it costs an arm and a leg, he recalls her saying. The horror on her face, when she saw the shaved-down plot of land, was something Jaemin never wishes on his worst enemy and all the while desires to draw frame to frame.

But of course, it didn’t end there. He worked at a convenience store and a local retail store when he was sixteen, but was fired from the first and never received his roster from the latter. He thought that maybe local stores were just too picky with their quality of work due to having to compete against monopoly businesses, and so he opted to turn to chain businesses instead. He worked at McDonald’s and almost deep-fried his instructor's hand when being taught how to work the fries, and barely batted an eye when a few teenagers shoplifted the stores’ display clothes when he was working the chain clothing store at the mall near his house. To his defence, he’d thought that they were his coworkers changing the clothes on display with their casual dress code of the workplace, and so naturally, he didn’t think much of it. His longest-lasting job was at a general retail store he was hired for during Christmas, where he lasted for three weeks due to his supervisor being too busy to catch Jaemin’s mistake.

It’s a miracle really that he’s lasted three solid days at this place, but there isn’t much he can screw up in a pet shop; so far all he’s tasked to do is feed the fishes, as they’re the easiest to feed, and discard the box with hamster and rabbit poop for compost. Surprisingly, they’re both placed in the same corner of the room, but they’re kept in different storage boxes. Jaemin remembers how green means compost, and blue means fish; it makes sense, so he just goes to the blue one and scoops one full scoop into a mini bucket, before going into the store and feeding the fish. With the compost bin, he simply fits it onto a wheeler before going out to the back and dumping it into the designated compost area.

Jaemin sniffles a bit, before placing the laminated poster back on the shelf, checking his watch for the time. “Oh,” He exclaims, “It’s lunchtime for the fishes,” His smile towards his boss might just be pushing it, but it seems like he’s doing a great job at, well, keeping this job; anything resembling ass-kissing, he’ll try. As long as it guarantees a longer stay for him of course.

Mr Choi laughs heartily, sending Jaemin a thumbs up as he slowly filters out of the back room while Jaemin heads to the blue tin. What he misses is how the relief from Mr Choi’s face turns into sheer horror, as he sees Jaemin scoop into the blue tin and drop the pendant-like substances into the fish’s designated feeder.

“Stop!” Jaemin drops the scooper into the tin as his boss yells out, his blood running cold at the sudden shout. “Jaemin..have you been using—” Mr Choi’s eyes widen as he cuts himself off, going back to the store with hurried steps. Jaemin is very confused, as he has his hand midway in the air from Mr Choi’s exclaim, standing in the backroom like an NPC only activated when a main character comes to him for a quest.

But, miraculously, he can move his feet as he hears another shout of— a woman? Or maybe it was just Mr Choi’s sheer…excitement of Jaemin’s dedication to his job? But what he sees when he gets out of the back room and into the main store isn’t a surprise party held for Jaemin and his efforts (okay, he thought that maybe this was all a ploy to just show his new staff some appreciation; he’s still sceptical about the horror in Mr Choi’s voice, can you blame him?). What he’s instead met with is his boss’ and how his hands are clenched on his already thinning scalp — Jaemin winces when he sees a strand slowly descend to the floor— as he skids left and right around the aquariums.

It isn’t until Jaemin takes a closer look and sees that the fishes he thought were sleeping are now, well, permanently sleeping; on the floor of the aquariums, save with a few floating slowly, hanging on for Mr Choi’s happiness or the longevity of Jaemin’s work streak. He later finds out that fish float when sleeping.

“Jaemin, oh my god— the blue tin is the compost bin, and the green one is the fish food! I’ve told you about this two times, there’s even a fish sign on the green tin, how could you not tell?!” Jaemin might be tripping, but he swears he can see the bald patch on his boss’ head growing steadily.

Of course, now wouldn’t be the best time for him to point out scalp care remedies, and so he settles for the next best thing; “I thought the fish sign meant that they just…smell really bad…” Mr Choi now has his hand splayed across his face before he slowly goes to rub at his eyes, and nose bridge next, probably preventing a stress-induced nosebleed.

He points towards the front of the store, where the counter sits next to the door, finger jabbing up and down. Jaemin takes this as a sign to get some tissues from behind the counter, or his boss’ water bottle that always seems to have unlimited tea; but before he can even get back to him, with his eyes still close, in the softest tone Mr Choi says “... Out.”

He would’ve stopped his job hunting there, to be honest; but he’s in the last year of his course and is living with a roommate in a separate flat from his parents, which means he has to have at least some money to buy some necessities like groceries, much less pay rent.

He tells this much to Mark when he asks why Jaemin decided to work at a gym straight after working at a pet shop, and also what his resume looks like for people to still be keen to hire someone like him. He completely evades the second question, happily confiding in his friend about the job at a gym he picked up a week after being fired from sending the fishes into a food coma.

(“…Too soon?”

“Yeah, maybe a little bit.”)

And when Mark asks how Jaemin’s day was as a conversation starter, he vulnerably confides in him about losing his job again. This time working at a gym, he was assigned the task of giving out flyers and talking to people about why they would benefit from going to the gym, according to the outline he was provided in this big binder, the corner of the cover peeling off with age. While he was trying to promote the gym and give the discount flyers, he got into a long-winded conversation with this one old man who was talking about how the treadmill ‘fucked his knee up’, which had Jaemin thinking if treadmills existed in the 1980s.

They were five minutes into Jaemin searching the creation of gyms on Naver and the old man scolding him for not listening to a customer even though he was ‘not yet a customer because you haven’t accepted the flyer, now have you?’  when his supervisor comes out and yanks on Jaemin’s ‘employee in training’ lanyard from around his neck. Jaemin wasn’t sure what factor was the tipping point, but Mark thinks it was because he was on his phone during work hours.

“Or maybe the fact that you were stuck talking to someone likely to be the last person to ever sign up to a gym?” Mark is spinning his pen as he says this, looking up from his laptop screen towards Jaemin. Mark doesn’t even write his notes by hand, so it’s truly beyond him why he’s brought a high-class fountain pen to their study session at Jaemin’s, but that should be the last of his worries.

“Actually, they did have yoga and treadmill training for those aged sixty-five and above, so I wasn’t even targeting the wrong market.”

“Are you saying you’ve been wrongfully fired?” Mark sports an amused smile at Jaemin as if he’s laughing along with his joke; but that’s the problem, he wasn’t joking.

“Don’t laugh at my demise,” Jaemin smacks Mark’s arm, and he would feel bad at the wince that the latter lets out if he hadn’t been on the receiving end of his brutal laugh-hitting habit five out of seven times in the past week. Mark slowly halts his laughing fit when he sees Jaemin sulking, suddenly turning soft.

“Alright, you know what, here,” Mark fishes out his wallet as he says this, twisting and turning his bag on Jaemin’s bed. He gives the latter 10,000 won, waving his hand out towards Jaemin’s window. “Go ahead and get some snacks, my treat. And get me the watermelon-flavoured ice cream too?”

Jaemin scoffs. “You’re only doing this because you’re too lazy to get it yourself.” Mark’s smile is sheepish.

“Well, do you have 10,000 won to spare?” That shuts Jaemin up, as he snatches the notes out of Mark’s hand with a glare.

“When I do get 10,000 won, I’m making you eat the note,” Mark’s laugh is nervous as Jaemin marches out.

The cold hold of the ice cream contrasts the warmth in Jaemin’s hand, as the walk back to his unit proves to be a good remedy for taking a mental break from studying, as he decides to take a long way back; partially because the walk through Central parks is nice, but mainly because he wants Mark’s ice cream to have melted into a gross mush when he gets back.

Walking through the park, the rustle of the plastic bag and the tree branches are the only sounds echoing throughout, with Jaemin swinging his arm leisurely. The park is a circle shapen thread of grass with benches and pathways swirling around it, adorned with a children's playground in one corner, and the park's famous Yoshino cherry tree sitting right in the middle of the whole scene. The walk from the ice cream store back to his unit, the long way, requires Jaemin to walk through the park and the line of stores and restaurants in company with the park’s facilities. For as long as he’s lived here, three out of four of the store slots have been busy with business and traffic; all but one.

Unit store 1279 is infamous for dooming local businesses whenever someone applies for its lease. Jaemin has seen two restaurants and at least three cafes open and close, all with varying reasons for closing; the landlord is a nightmare to deal with, a corner of the store leaks something green but only when no one pays attention, and lastly about how there’s a ghost that lingers near the back door, sending cold shivers down staff and patrons alike when they pass through the door.

Out of all these rumours, Jaemin truly has yet to see one of them be proven true, the landlord was friendly enough to send welcoming flowers when each business would open; and close. He was keen to feel the shiver of the ghost's presence course through his body when he visited two openings ago but to no avail.

However, the reason why he finds the store so intriguing today is related to neither of those rumours; right on the glass door of the supposed vacant spot is an estate-sealed sticker adorned with bold letters spelling out “SOLD”. Not leased, but sold, with just below the official sticker being a recruitment post, a single slip of the business's phone number flapping in the light breeze.

We are looking for part-time staff. Starting rate at 25,000 won per hour. No prior experience is required.

Jaemin shifts from one foot to another as he eyes the piece of A4 paper taped to the door. Isn't this fate? A store opening right near where he lives, willing to accept someone with no experience, and the last slip of number is left? All while Mark’s ice cream is melting in his bag. This is the universe's calling if he knows of any.

Jaemin paces around the living room while Shotaro sits on the couch, head tilting left and right to the opposite rhythm of Jaemin’s paces as he tries to look past his whizzing figure and to the TV. If Shotaro had even a single mean bone in his body, he would ever so kindly tell Jaemin to stop pacing and maybe instead stand in one place, if he’s comfortable to of course. But as far as Jaemin is aware, he flinches at the sight of a fly, and is much less able to hurt one, so, of course, he doesn’t tell Jaemin to stop obscuring his vision, and instead turns to look at him, ignoring his show.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and Jaemin finally deflates, seeing this as an invitation to rant to his roommate. Plopping himself right next to Shotaro on the three-seated couch, he links their arms together by the elbow, needing something to ground himself.

“I wanna call this place and see if I can get a job, but I don’t know how to go about it; is there such a thing as a verbal resume?”

“You mean, an interview?” Shotaro provides, hand hovering slightly in the air as he contemplates patting Jaemin’s hand in comfort, but not for long as Jaemin separates them with a look of shock on his face.

“So that’s the word I was looking for?” He frowns to himself in contemplation, before sulking right back into Shotaro’s bicep. He doesn’t think they’ve passed the phases required to get this close to his former, but he’s too stressed about fucking up another job, and Shotaro seems to not mind this sort of interaction.

“If you find it so stressful to call them and have a phone interview, why don’t you send them a text?” Jaemin doesn’t know if this is truly coming from the goodness in his heart or if this is just something that everyone knows. Either way, the words put him at ease as he stands from the couch, patting Shotaro on the shoulder in thanks.

“You’re right! They didn’t specify their expectations; they just had phone number slips and a recruitment notice. You’re a genius Shotaro,” To that, the boy flushes with a shy smile on his face, but before Jaemin can hear him say something about how he didn’t do anything, and that he would love to help you even a little bit, Jaemin has headed off to his room and is curating a message to send.

To: [phone]

Hello, My name is Jaemin and I am interested in working in your establishment. When can I come in for an interview?

From: [phone]

Hello Jaemin. We are grateful for your enthusiasm, could you stop by next Thursday at 12 p.m at the Tao Village restaurant? Please bring a copy of your resume and provide a USB of a soft copy of said resume. We look forward to hearing from you.

To: Tao Village HR person (I think)

Yes I am available :) Thank you

Jaemin was not quite sure what is an appropriate outfit for when you want to be interviewed for a job as a waitress, but Shotaro’s eyes had dimmed just the slightest when he saw Jaemin step out of his room with jeans and a hoodie.

“Is that what you’re gonna wear?” His tone was far from condescending, even with the smile on his face, he looked more like a proud mom, but Jaemin could tell when his roommate may be slightly disappointed with a poor choice, so he had gone back and dressed up in some slacks he had and a polo shirt tucked in. he hopes he doesn’t see people he knows, or worse, Mark, because he knows he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Now he’s situated in front of the store, the ‘sold’ sticker now nowhere to be seen and a light glow shining through from the glass door, but the sun shinning from outside obscures any other view Jaemin could peak from the inside, as he sees more of his own reflection instead. Hand clasped on a clear folder and a USB with his resume, he pats his head one last time before opening the door and stepping in.

He’s been inside this store a few times over the past few cafes and restaurants, and so he’s not surprised to be met with a whole new interior. On the contrary, he’s quite pleased with the choices that the current owner of the store has made, with the walls now an even slate with ivory-coloured paint instead of the rundown orange brick that the last restaurant had. There are tables and chairs fit for two, and a last one for six people uninformed from left to right, with a counter and a curtain obscuring what he assumes is the kitchen towards the end of the restaurant.

Jaemin was too enamoured with taking in the whole place that he had completely missed the mini counter situated a bit to his left, with you standing behind, confused as to why someone has came in to simply look at the interior design and not, well, the menu.

A clear of your throat startles Jaemin out of his daze, as he looks towards you with the initial look of annoyance before his expression melts.

She’s so pretty. What the fuck? Does she work here? Is this a needed requirement? Maybe Jaemin should’ve topped up with a bit of cologne or something to truly seal his spot, but before he could embarrass himself by very subtly going to smell his shirt, you start.

“Hi, welcome to Tao Village, how can I help you?” He’s not sure if you’re using a customer service voice on him but it proves to work as he immediately thinks of how sweet your voice sounds. But Jaemin doesn’t want you to think he’s a creep who follows pretty women around and ask for their number the minute they open their mouth (he was so, so, tempted to ask for yours), so he tries a better way to ease in.

“I need to…speak to your manager.” His strong voice startles you both, as your eyes widen a bit before you lean back from the counter, now wary.

‘Is…is everything okay? My manager is unavailable at the moment.” Your eyes flit back to the curtain, where Jaemin assumes the head of this whole place is at the moment. His brows furrow further as he looks down at his watch. Twelve p.m., on the dot like the person he had texted requested. There must be a mistake.

“No, I’m sure they’re here. Maybe somewhere at the back? I need to speak to them,” he’s not sure why he’s suddenly being so demanding (he suspects that it's the polo shirt he’s wearing) but he’s nervous and he doesn’t want to be rejected before he was even given a chance to prove himself.

“I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, sir,” You voice out, now leaning back with your hand situated on the ring button placed below the counter, in case of emergencies or to be able to call for backup from the back of the kitchen. You didn’t think that you’d use it this early, “Can I make it up to you or help you in any form?”

Before you get to ring the button or Jaemin gets to backtrack, the curtains pull back and out comes a man in his mid-twenties, wearing an apron and holding a… paintbrush?

“Is everything alright?” He drops the paintbrush into its respective tray before he steps closer towards the two of you. You point at a faint smear of paint that’s caught on his cheek, mentioning silently to rub it off. Still, when he gets the memo and goes to wipe it off, he ends up smearing it further into his skin, his expression not wavering from its seriousness. It’s when he does a one-over at Jaemin that it all clicks.

“Oh! You must be here for the interview.” He pats down on his apron as if checking his bearings. “Kun said he’ll be back by now; that’s alright, have a seat.” He offers one of the two-seater tables, as Jaemin shuffles his way onward to take a seat, plopping himself on the opposite side of who he assumes is the boss of this place, as he takes his apron off and goes to brush at his clothes, before taking a look at his stained hands and deciding otherwise.

“Thank you for coming, my name is Jaehyun and I’ll just give you a brief breakdown of this place,” Jaemin nods as he rubs his palms against his jeans, thinking about how much he truly knew about this job. Come to think of it, he has no clue what the job he’s applying for even entails, just that they need staff who don’t necessarily need any experience (Jaemin does have some experience, maybe not the right kind) and were willing to pay enough for him to be able to pay his rent and only eat instant noodles two times a week, instead of the standard eight.

“We’re called Tao Village, and we offer a range of Chinese cuisines. I run this place with Kun, who was the one that got in contact with you. Both he and I cook, so we’re always in the kitchen. I have my niece,” That’s when Jaehyun points at you, which you don’t hear as you set up cutlery on tables with your earphones in, completely tuned out. “But she needs help for when we get a bit busier, or when it’s closing time; I can’t stay back because I have to wake up early the next day for the stores' essentials. We can show you the ropes but so far I just need you to work from Friday till Sunday.” Jaemin does his best to listen and store the information, but he realises that Jaehyun’s waiting for his reply.

“Yes, that should be okay,” He gave a thumbs up and a tight-lipped smile, which he slowly brings down when he sees Jaehyun’s stare on his hand.

“Great,” Jaehyun claps, standing up and reaching for the apron he placed on his lap before wrapping it around himself. “Well, the official opening of this place is on Saturday. Come in on Friday and we’ll try to acquaint you with the basics.” With a clap on the shoulder and a grimace of a smile - can it even be considered one? -  Jaehyun hands him a brochure-like menu of the restaurant, telling him that if he can memorise it as soon as possible it will be helpful.

You’re wiping down the counter when Jaemin stands to leave, and when he shoots you a barely-there smile, all you do is look away.

“You got another job?” Mark sounds surprised when he says this, and that puts Jaemin off, because, of course, he got another job.

“What was I supposed to do? Stay jobless and have Shotaro pay all the rent and food expenses?” Jaemin’s on laundry duty this week, and is being mindful of what colours are supposed to go together according to the laminated piece of paper Shotaro taped above the washing machine.

“Knowing him, he probably would offer to pay your uni fee too.” Mark tosses up a pair of bundled-up socks as he says this. “Wait, so where do you work now?”

“At the new restaurant, you know the haunted place just past the park?” Mark hums as he says this. “I’m a waitress, er, waiter there now. From Friday to Sunday. Which is good because I only have classes throughout the weekday.”

“And you barely get invited out during the weekends anyways,” Mark snickers as he says this, but misses catching the sock as Jaemin grabs a pair of used underwear and throws it directly at the boy, barely missing the undergarment as he looks at him wide-eyed. Words of ‘ew dude’ and ‘that’s gross’ goes into one ear and out the other as he picks the briefs back up and shoves them in the washing machine, closing its door and starting it off.

“Well, I have a good feeling about it this time,”

“Are you gonna blame the ghost for your- wait, did you put any detergent in?”

“ …Does it not come with detergent already?”

Jaemin picks a lint off of his shoulder, before smoothing his hand down his shirt and his pants next. He was told to wear an all-black attire, not sweatpants or hoods, so he stuck with a simple t-shirt and some black jeans.  He doesn’t know why he’s exceptionally nervous this time when all the other times he was only caught praying to last more than a weeks worth of paycheck. For some reason, he’s not keen on crossing his boss this time - Jaehyun seems scary.

Stepping forward, his hands find the handle and with one deep breath, he pushes the door. Except it doesn’t budge.

He steps back and looks through the glass of the door, seeing if anyone is inside. When he doesn’t find anyone, he pushes once more, and one more time with all his body weight; yet it doesn’t budge.

“I swear they asked me to come in at four,” He fishes his phone out of his pocket, looking at the time while his face stays squished against the door. Not even a second later, he hears the click of the door unlocking, and before his reflex could take over and help him step back, he’s launched forward and onto the ground.

“Oh my god, are you okay? Why would you cling to the door like that?” Your voice reaches his ears as he’s situated on the floor, and he then realises that his fingers were latched onto the door handle when you pulled the door to let him in.

Your slack-covered knees come into his vision first, before your face enters his view, albeit upside down.

“You didn’t get a concussion from that alone, did you?” Sounding so serious, Jaemin couldn’t help but laugh slightly at your words as he pushes himself up to his elbows, brushing at his shirt before inspecting it for any dirt. So much for looking wanting to look presentable.

“Jaehyun’s not here yet, and Kun’s stepped out just then,” Jaemin realises this is the most he’s heard you speak since the first time he’s seen you, as he sees your standing figure reaches a hand out to him, offering to help him up. He gladly accepts it, but is mindful to not pull all his weight.

“Oh,” Is all he can muster, now sheepish at the fact that your second impression of him is not any better than the first. His eyes scan around the place as he finds new additions since last week, such as a few ink-wash paintings on the wall and paper lanterns lining down the ceiling instead of the LED lamps that Jaemin saw last. Even the staff counter looks more lived in compared to the glimpse he caught before, with what looks like a brand new electric kettle and two mugs with silicone lids, one with a peach and another with a bear as their handles.

Not knowing what else to say, his eyes seek yours for any sort of initiative; hoping that you will catch his gaze and give a smile, all while explaining to him the in’s and out of this place, like how should he take orders, if there’s a particular way to fold the tissues that are placed on the tables, and if the Fujian fried rice of this restaurant is the one with or without pumpkin. Simple details.

But you all but look back at him, instead you drop your gaze away from him entirely and go to the staff counter at the back of the restaurant, picking up and taking a look at the kettle before you go behind the curtains that lead to the kitchen, out of Jaemin’s sight. He’s not sure if he’s even allowed there as a rookie staff, so he doesn’t play with his luck and instead trudges behind the counter at the door. After a few minutes of poking and prodding at things like the card reader and a pen cup, the front door swings open and in comes a tall man with red hair, holding plastic bags full of an assortment of things from food to cutlery.

“Oh, you must be Jaemin,” Jaemin straightens his back at the mention of his name, nodding his head and bowing in lieu of a greeting. The man trudges through the restaurant, the bursting plastic bags bumping into the chairs every now and then, and not long after the door swings open once more to reveal Jaehyun.

“Jaemin! You’re,” He gives his watch a glance, “On time! How pleasant, come, have you met Kun? Let’s go into the kitchen first.” Jaehyun manages to say this all with an expressionless face, but Jaemin does not feel like he’s being condescending, following his now-boss silently through the restaurant, past the main staff counter and the curtains and into the kitchen. Boxes are perched on the metal counters of the restaurant’s kitchen, filled with what Jaemin guesses are the containers for the ingredients of the dishes, and some restaurant plates, as well as takeaway boxes and bags. You’re taking out the abundance of takeaway container lids from boxes that take up two-thirds of your height, stocking them up on the top shelf.

“Kun, have you met Jaemin? I’m not sure we’ve given him a proper tour of the place,” Jaemin doesn’t think he’s gotten any sort of tour of the whole place, so all he does is politely shake his head.

Kun grunts as he places another big box next to your unpacking figure, the impact of it barely making you flinch. He looks at Jaehyun before his gaze falls on Jaemin, and with a smile and a wave of his hand, he goes through the backdoor of the kitchen without looking back.

Jaemin is guided through the whole place, with Kun showing him the storage room and the cold room, which conveniently has a sliding door; the singular bathroom of the whole place, and the main part of the restaurant.

“You don’t need to prepare much for tomorrow, it says in your resume that you’ve worked in a lot of places for short amounts of time, which gives me the impression that you can pick up traits easily,” Jaemin delivers a stiff smile as he feels Kun clasp a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Me and Jaehyun will just tell you the way we work, but first I need you to help with the unpacking. Any questions?”

Jaemin nods his head, taking the chance to now ask his burning question. “Will I get paid for today?”

Kun just laughs and pats him twice on the shoulder, shaking his head and heading to the kitchen, shoulders bunching up now and then.

Tasked with the job of organising the cutlery, Jaemin places the metal spoons and forks into the cutlery tray placed next to the plates and bowls for setting up the tables. You’re here too, wiping down the window and the glass door, emitting any sort of stain. Jaemin tries his best to not let his gaze wander on for too long, wanting to be in your good books. From what it seems, you seem just as important as both Kun and Jaehyun, so he doesn’t want to risk doing anything wrong, or piss you off. He also thinks you’re really pretty and would like to ask you out, but that’s beside the point.

It’s when you’re getting up from wiping the bottom of the window when you hear the clatter of plastic. Turning around, your eyes widen when you see Jaemin and the plastic forks he was supposed to put away at his feet.

“I…” There goes Jaemin’s one and only chance. He isn’t even being paid for this and he’s gonna get fired, right in front of the person he was trying to rizz up, too. Before he can say anymore and save his reputation, you whizz past him and into the kitchen, the curtains flying around you but you’re mindful enough to shut them back, not letting the sight of Jaemin with a bunch of forks splayed around him like he’s being sacrificed to the fast-food culinary Gods. He hears Kun and Jaehyun’s voices coming through the curtains, variations of them asking if everything is alright, to which you answer with the clutter of pots and pans.

Coming back with a big metal bowl, Jaemin’s eyes widen as you kneel — for the second time today — at his legs, picking up the forks frantically and placing them in the metal basin.

“Are you gonna help?”

And now he’s on his knees too. Scooping up the forks and placing them in the bowl, once every single fork is off the floor, you rush towards the undermount sink at the corner of the staff counter just as footsteps echo from the kitchen and Jaheyun’s figure emerges.

“Is everything good?” Jaemin feels paralysed, unable to decipher anything since the doom he felt spilling all the single-use forks onto the floor.

“Yup,” You answer nonchalantly, filling up the basin full of forks with water and a few drops of dish soap. “Just thought to rinse these clean first before…” You pause for a second as you look at Jaemin, before trailing your gaze to Jaehyun with a smile. “Before Jaemin organises them.”

Jaehyun simply nods his head before he trudges back to the kitchen, and Jaemin barely gets to utter a ‘thank you’ before you walk past him and into the kitchen.

“So she just helped you? That simply?” Jaemin’s smile is all but smug, as he cracks open his beer and clinks it against Marks, both taking generous sips.

“What can I say? I charmed her with my natural skills,”

“The natural skills of messing things up,” Mark scoffs at him before leaning over to get a piece of fried chicken out of the takeout box. “She probably pitied you for making a rookie mistake.” He starts munching on the chicken and hums in delight, following it with a sip of his beer. Jaemin reaches to pick up a pickled radish.

“Well, rookie mistake or not, she likes me enough to help me. You should come to work tomorrow for the grand opening, and while you’re at it bring everyone else too; I swear she doesn’t even like people,” Mark laughs in delight at Jaemin’s invitation, promising to come up with something.

Mouth full, he asks, “How long do you think you’ll last?”

“Swallow your fucking food first before jetting all your spit at me dude,”

In the same black polo shirt, Jaemin steps in at noon, just like his boss number one (Kun) asked him to, while boss number two (Jaehyun) had emphasised that calling him this early is to ease him in easier into the culinary business. Jaemin doesn’t mind, he’s just glad that he’s being paid for today's work.

He greets you with a wave as soon as he gets in, to which you wave back before going to the kitchen and announcing his presence.

“Jaemin’s here now,” You come back out and stand at the staff counter, taking the kettle and filling it up with water to boil. Going behind the counter, he places his phone and earbuds into his pocket, remembering that they were prohibited unless he’s on his break. Once the water is boiled, you pour it into the two mugs Jaemin remembers seeing yesterday, before putting it back on its stand and taking the mugs back into the kitchen.

Jaemin simply fiddles around, not knowing what to do. It looks like his presence on Friday was needed to set things up, but now that it’s all done, he can only wait for a customer to walk or call in, or either one of you to give him a command; he’s weary this time ‘round to not fuck anything up.

Coming back out right behind Kun, you busy yourself at the counter next to the door while Kun comes up to Jaemin, patting him on the back.

“Don’t worry about doing much today, it’s just a soft opening and not a lot of people know about our business anyways. I’m just expecting maybe two or three takeaway orders and just a handful of tables. This could be a good chance for you to bond with each other, yeah?” But before Jaemin could take in the fact that Kun had wanted some sort of bonding to happen, his mind got caught on the words ‘soft opening’.

“Wait, so today’s only the …soft opening.” Careful with his tone, Jaemin tries to make it sound like he’s just restating a fact rather than being surprised. Kun is too busy drinking from his hot water to notice Jaemin’s nervous front.

“Yup, Jaehyun and I decided it would be best to have a grand opening maybe after we got to test the waters out.” He places the silicon lid with the bear cover back on his cup to retain the heat, and Jaemin really can’t help but feel like something bad is brewing. But before he could even voice out a word, the door to the restaurant opens with a bell resounding, and in swarm a pack of ten or so customers, and a blob that looks like Mark.

“Yoo, this place is quite neat,” Apparently it talks like Mark too.

Both shocked still with wide eyes, trying to make sense of where and how this many people all came together into the restaurant just minutes after the soft opening, Jaemin just hopes that nothing about Mark and what seems like a club he gathered from the university can be somehow linked back to him. It doesn’t seem like the universe is keen on taking his side, however, as he sees Mark’s eyes squint and searches around the restaurant, knowingly searching for him. Jaemin doesn’t know why he hasn’t tried looking at where the general staff area would be, like at the door or where he’s currently situated, but before he could duck to hide or face his impending doom, you miraculously step in.

“Hello, welcome to Tao Village, how can I help you?” You sport a kind but mute smile, hands clasped together politely.

“Yeah, can I have, like, a table or something?”

“Sure, for how many people?”

“Ooh! Good question… I think there’s like, ten of us at the moment.”

“Is it alright if I were to ask you to sit separately? Since you’re walking in, we didn’t have the opportunity to set up. Just in two groups of three and one table for four maybe?” Jaemin doesn’t know how you do it, but his shoulders sag when Mark gives you a thumbs up, going back to the group of people all loitering around the entrance, telling them that they will just break into subunits.

Kun has somehow slipped away without any notice, which left just Jaemin behind the counter for you to encounter when you head towards the bottled water in the fridge. “Can you help me with the water? I’ll take their orders and you can just follow along first,” With a nod of his head, you press the bottle into his hands, waving him off as you reach for a server notepad, writing down table numbers and heading to the tables.

With your presence and the two chefs busy in the kitchen, Jaemin doesn’t do much but avoid eye contact with Mark and listen to you pick up the scarce phone orders that come through; trying his best to learn how to pick up such skill. After the third time of the phone ringing and Jaemin staying in place, simply looking at you to pick up the phone, you pick it up and press the answer button, before pressing it against his ear and giving an encouraging nod.

It turns out to be a scam call, with the person on the other end attempting to sell Jaemin a double-doored fridge with a touch screen and dual ice and water dispenser, all while Jaemin tries to promote the restaurant.

“With the dual dispenser, you can fill your glass up with both water and ice at the same time so your water doesn’t go too cold on the first si-“

“The mapo tofu is a great dish to order, as tofu proves to be a primary source of iron, easily accessible and cheap with the rising price of meat.”

“…It’s a Samsung model which has been on limited release—“

“Do you want the food or not?”

(The telemarketer hesitates just a bit before stating that they’ll call another time.)

Nothing else happens, you two go to the kitchen whenever a sound of the bell ringing resounds, signalling that a dish is ready to be served, and Jaemin uses all of his brain power and logic skills to pick up dishes that are for tables that Mark isn't seated at.

He successfully gets to do all that is required of him and stealthily avoids Mark, silently celebrating as he sees you place fortune cookies at every table, signalling that it’s time for them to pay the bill and leave.

But of course, nothing good ever lasts.

“Jaemin, bro,” Mark must’ve been some assassin in his past life because Jaemin barely notices him creeping up to him until he’s already wrapped in a handshake and a bro hug. “Well done dude, you barely made a mistake today. Yo, the food was good too, you should bring back some of the Mongolian lambs every now and then, yeah? I’ll see you later,” And with two claps on his back, he’s fishing his pockets for spare change as he heads towards the front counter and near the door, finding a singular coin before placing it in your palm, smiling as if he’s single-handedly pulled you out of poverty.

“Your friend?” You murmur towards him, looking at the coin in distaste.

“Yeah, unfortunately so.”

“I can’t do it,” Jaemin is shaking his head and hands vehemently; making him feel even more sick than he was.

You roll your eyes at him, holding the restaurant's phone in your hand. “You have to start somewhere, you can’t just avoid it now and expect to be miraculously good one day. I swear once you learn how to pick up phone orders you’ll only want to do that.” You explain, before putting your free hand out, palm facing up, encouraging Jaemin to do the same. Once he follows, not without a lot of hesitation, of course, you gently place the phone in his hand, closing his fingers around it with two hands before giving it a light pat.

“Now,” You pick up Jaehyun's phone that's placed on the counter, dialling the restaurant's number before placing yourself on the other side of the restaurant to cease any echoes. “I’m gonna call and act like a customer, you try writing down the order details.” With a nod of his head, you press the dial and turn the other way around, opting to look away to make Jaemin less nervous.

With a deep breath in, he picks up. “Hi, welcome to Tao Village,” He pauses, looking at you for any sign of motivation, but continues when he notices you waiting. “What would you like to order?”

“Jaemin,” Your voice sounds in the dining area and not through the phone, as you turn slightly to look at him with the phone tucked into your chest. “Some customers might not order food straight away. Maybe try asking how you can be of assistance,”

“Hello, welcome to Tao Village restaurant. Uh, how can I help?” Jaemin tries again, to which you reply with a bunch of dish names, asking for the different types of sauces that come with the mixed vegetables, as he tries his best to answer with what he remembers and writes down the prices of each dish from the takeaway menu.

“Uh, okay. Is that, did you want anything else?”

“Nope, I’m good. What's the total?” Jaemin fumbles with the calculator, shoulders hunched over the counter, punching in the numbers and writing down the total on the piece of paper. “That would be around 38,000 won.”

“Are you sure?” This time your voice is right by his ear without the phone pressed against it, your arm brushing against his side. Jaemin doesn’t even have the time to be scared, distracted by the proximity of you two as you reach over and use the calculator.

“It came up to 42,000 won. Did you forget to calculate the buns?”

“Oh,” Jaemin splutters. “Maybe, my bad.” Although this all sounds so new to Jaemin, he doesn’t feel as overwhelmed as he thought he would; with every other job he had, there would be someone assigned to help Jaemin understand the ropes of the place, but everyone else would add something on too, like how folding clothes the ‘Marie Kondo way’ was is even more efficient, even if that defeats the whole purpose of displaying a t-shirt at a department store.

You coach him through the quirks one by one, not moving on until Jaemin shows that he’s somewhat picked up the action. It all feels like a dream come true, with you guiding him as if you know that he couldn’t last a week into his job without actually knowing that. He’s just not sure how effective it will be in the long run. And it turns out that he doesn’t need to wait long to find out, as the ringing of the phone echoes in the restaurant devoid of any noise except for the soft piano background music.

Nodding your head at him, Jaemin picks up the phone and only hesitates for half a ring before he presses accept, bringing the phone to his ear and repeating the welcome phrase. It all goes well, with the customer asking if they can make a phone order for pick up, to which Jaemin replies ‘Why yes, of course you may’, and the sound of a car door closing sounds through the phones speakers, and suddenly the quality of the customers' voice sounds like hot garbage as their phone connects to their cars’ bluetooth.

“Sorry, did you say you wanted mixed vegetables in rooster sauce? Sorry, we don’t offer— oh. Oyster sauce. Yup,” You look at him with a confused look on your face, curious as to why Jaemin can’t understand the person when everything was good. The furrow of your eyebrows and the scratching sound from the phone sets Jaemin off, as the customer mutters something about ‘how many times do I have to repeat myself?’.

Jaemin writes down what he can understand, writing down the name ‘Kai’ and giving the customer the estimated waiting time, before hanging up the phone.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” You give him a pat on the shoulder, taking the slip of paper from his hand, wincing as you take a look at the scribbles writing of the dish names and their prices. “It’ll just go up from here. Hey, tell you what, why don’t you try remembering the ingredients of our fried rice, and see if you can differentiate between which one is the normal one and the special one without looking at the names, yeah? I’ll go help set up the ingredients for cooking these dishes,” And with one last tap, you disappear behind the curtains, taking a pen with you and correcting the mistakes before providing it to the two chefs.

You’re busy talking at a table of customers when the door swings open and in walks a customer, which leaves Jaemin to tend to them instead. With a customer service smile, he clears his throat and greets them.

“How can I help you?”

“Oh, I’m here to pick up an order. Under the name Kim I think? Sorry, I didn’t place the order but my dad did.” The woman scrolls through her phone as she says this, looking at what Jaemin guesses to be an exchange of texts between her and her dad. He ducks a bit to look at the dock under the table, where all the takeaways are brought and placed with the order slip attached to them with a piece of tape. He sees one with the name Kim and picks it up, removing the attached slip and placing it on top of the counter while the lady reaches for her wallet.

“Okay, uh, did you order the sweet and sour pork, with a large fried rice?” Jaemin reads off the food, a procedure you emphasised was important when dealing with takeaway orders. The lady nods, impatient as she swings her card around. He looks at the price at the end of the paper before punching it into the machine. Once the transaction goes through successfully and a receipt is printed, the woman quickly snatches the handle of the takeaway plastic bag and nods her head goodbye. Jaemin senses that something is wrong, off maybe even, and so he looks at the copy of the receipt and the contents of the order slip, looking at the other orders waiting at the dock and their contents and seeing that they all match their slips, and so with a shrug, he sets off to go back to the staff counter.

It isn’t until ten minutes pass that his wrongdoing was confirmed, as you call for his name from across the restaurant while sifting through the takeaway orders, a customer patiently looking over to see your interaction. He pulls up beside you, squatting down eye-level to the dock like you are before he whispers, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Where is the order for Kim? The one with the fried rice and sweet and sour pork? I remember bringing it here when it was packed at the back.” Jaemin feels his blood run cold at the mention of the order, a clear replay of his interaction with the woman coming in full blast.

“Oh… that…” At this, you pause your search and look at Jaemin, whose breath hitches at the short distance between your faces, courtesy of your crouched figures. You close your eyes, breathing in deeply to calm your nerves, before straightening up at lightning speed, knocking Jaemin over and onto the ground with an ‘oof’.

“Your order is still not ready yet, sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll go and check up on the progress, did you want to take a seat while you wait?” You smile at the customer, who nods back and says something about not minding the wait. You walk over Jaemin’s bent knees on the ground, going past him and into the kitchen.

He picks himself up quickly, making brief eye contact with the customer before looking at the curtains which you walked into. He’s doomed, you’re gonna tell Jaehyun and Kun about the mistake you made, and they’re gonna come out mad with their sleeves pulled up, ready to beat the shit out of him. He should’ve taken the self-defence class his mom recommended to him when he was twelve, maybe then he could do something to make the pain afterwards not hurt as much.

But before he could think about running out of the place with the bowl of fortune cookies (compensation for the beating that is due… possibly), you come back out, heading for the sink and filling up a glass of water while you place it on the table that the real Kim sits at.

“Shouldn’t be too long, they’re just finishing up on the sweet and sour pork. Here some water while you wait.” And now Jaemin is confused. He’s still on the floor of the restaurant with his brows furrowed and mouth hung open as if he’s gonna start throwing a temper tantrum. Your eyes widen ever so slightly when you catch a glimpse of him still on the ground where you left him, but your professionalism pushes through as you widen the smile on your face with a hum, before shuffling away towards his direction when the customer looks away. Pulling him up, Jaemin is only able to offer you a few murmurs of random words to voice his confusion.

“They’re making a new batch, I figured that someone provided a similar name and didn’t know the order details, which is why they accepted it. Don’t worry, they don’t know that you mixed it up,” Jaemin feels a sense of relief wash over him, looking at you with what he knows to be his puppy eyes; you make sure to look away.

“Isn’t it like, against the rules to not tell them?”

“Well, if you like rules so much, you can go ahead and take this takeaway order to the back and confess. Or you can split its payment with me and take what you like home. While you decide what to do, I’ll call the customer you gave the wrong order to and offer some apology coupon.” If it was professional to, Jaemin would give you the biggest head; but unfortunately, this isn’t the film industry, and so he sticks to the next best thing, which is to just look at you longingly.

In hindsight, five weeks have passed and Jaemin is still an employee of Tao Village, surpassing his longest streak of two weeks and five days at the retail store. Which calls for a celebration.

“To Jaemin,” Shotaro opens a can of beer with one hand, which truly impresses Jaemin, because he didn’t think that he knew what alcohol was, let alone drink it. “Who can finally pay his half of the rent on time,”

“You’re too nice, Shotaro,” Mark clinks his can against his and Jaemin’s at the toast, taking a sip. “I would’ve kicked him out as soon as he somehow disconnected the house's water system. You guys had to shower at the campus locker rooms for a week.”

Shotaro simply laughs as Jaemin lunges at Mark. “You don’t even live here, why do you keep coming? You should pay rent at this point too, fucker,”

Mark shoves at Jaemin’s face, which was really close to biting his shoulder, effectively avoiding a months-long bruise. He scooches away on the couch, leaning against the handle and sipping his beer. Jaemin picks up a piece of takeaway fried chicken, and it’s with his mouthful when Shotaro asks how he’s liking the place.

“It’s okay, it’s not too busy since it just opened and no one really knows of its existence. Except for when Mark brought a shitton of people on its soft opening day,”

“You told me it was the gran-”

“Anyway, thankfully I didn’t get into trouble for that. But I was close all the other times…”

Mark snorts while Shotaro mumbles something about how well Jaemin is doing. “What, did you do all the cliche mistakes?”

“Define cliche,” Jaemin speaks after taking another bite of the chicken, making Mark kick at his thigh lightly.  “Like, did you spill red wine on a customer? Or break a plate, or write down the wrong order. You know, restaurant waiter cliches.” Jaemin ponders for a second at this, thinking back to his five weeks of employment at the place.

“Not quite…” He tilts his head in thought, but before he could follow it up with anything, Shotaro and Mark clink their drinks together from opposite sides of the couch.

“Then that means you’ve finally healed! Let’s celebrate while we can,” Mark and Shotaro both chug at their drinks, and Jaemin would be ecstatic to join if it weren’t for the fact that it’s only three pm in the afternoon. But also because he doesn’t think he can celebrate yet.

“Shotaro, did you know about this person Jaemin’s working with as well? He has a massive boner for her but like, they barely interact.” Shotaro chuckles at this, glancing at Jaemin whose face is now red as he stumbles for an excuse.

“She must be really nice if you like her; does she help you around a lot?” Shotaro questions, making Jaemin flush even more.

“If only you knew,”

He picks up a carton of Sprite from the ground of the cold room, goosebumps erupt all over his forearms as Jaemin hurries out of the place, closing the door shut with his foot. Shuffling past the two chefs cooking and back into the dining area, he briefly searches for you before he finds you at the basin at the staff counter, washing the used cups.

“I brought the carton,” He announces, making you turn around.

“Thanks, do you mind placing it here? You can open the carton but be careful when you put it at the edge, it can spill out.” Your fingers are covered in sud as you point at the counter next to you. With a nod of his head, he perches the carton on the counter, half of it hanging out with the cluster of items placed, not providing enough room. As he gently prods open the cardboard packaging, he glances at you, back facing him as you lather the cups in soap one by one. Before he could continue with his task with his newfound motivation (your existence), you lean over and open the door to the mini glasswasher, backing up against him as you place the cups in.

He averts his gaze quickly, eyes wide from seeing you bend over like that, not wanting to lose his feminist streak from letting his mind wander so easily. As he continues to prod at the Sprite container, he feels the briefest brush of your legs against his, and he completely splutters, accidentally hooking his finger at the opening of the carton and ripping it open, making all the cans stacked against each other topple out and over the edge of the counter, one by one making an impact with the floor.

With a screech and a poor attempt of stopping the cans in motion, he squats to make it to the cans before they fully fall to the floor. But it seems like, yet again, the universe is not on his side, because not only does he fail to catch most of the descending drinks, the bridge of his nose makes contact with the edge of the counter, making him join the cans on the floor.

“Oh my god,” You’re shocked by the view in front of you, like some sort of twisted Renaissance painting. You reach down, and just as Jaemin is about to tell you not to worry about him, and that he can just die a beautiful death with the cans surrounding him, you pick up the fallen cans, inspecting them for any damage.

“You’re lucky none of these popped open, the floor would be sticky for days,” You mutter as you place the cans back on top of the counter, separating the ones that turned out fine and the dented ones. All the while Jaemin lies there, his nose throbbing, contemplating how he’s lasted here so far.

“Aren’t you gonna tell them?” He closes his eyes as he gently presses his cold fingers against his nose bridge, soothing the pain. The answer seems to be an obvious ‘yes’ if your lack of reply is anything to go by. A few seconds pass and he feels the cold contact of a can replacing where his hands were on his features, and when he opens his eyes, he sees your face above his, inspecting him.

“What is there to say? That you’re on the ground fighting against a nosebleed?” You taunt, removing the can and inspecting the spot with the gentle press of your fingers. Grabbing his hand and opening his palm, you place the dented can you used gesturing to his face.

“You can drink it once you’re done, they won’t notice,” Jaemin sits up as you say this, bringing the can up to his nose, pressing the cold against it as he watches you go back to turning on the machine and walking away, tending to other restaurant responsibilities.

Notepad and pen in hand, Jaemin walks to the table that raised their hand at him and delivers his best customer service smile. “Hello, welcome back to Tao. Would you like to order?” You had given Jaemin the heads up to look after this table exclusively.

“They’re this group of ladies that have nothing to do but spend their significant others’ money. They come like, almost every second day; something about wanting to support local businesses. And they give generous tips. No one does that.” You sigh. “I wish I had that much free time.”

The women smile at him, seemingly charmed. Jaemin knows the power he holds, and he also knows that if he bunches up his cheeks just right, he can have any woman over the age of fifty want to pinch them.

“What a charismatic boy,” one of them comments, and he blinks his eyes and tilts his head, smile still on his face feeling just slightly strained as he politely rejects the compliment, feigning humility.

“Okay, well can we start our entrees with a set of fried dim sims and spring rolls, and for the main course we’ll have the mapo tofu, fried rice— did you say you wanted Hokkien mee? One of those too please, and a serving of mixed vegetables with oyster sauce and chicken chow mien. No mushrooms for either, please. And for drinks, we’ll just have three tsingtao’s and one glass of Shiraz.” The woman drones, and Jaemin has a bit of difficulty catching up and writing down all the dishes she’s named, and so he repeats it all back once it’s done; a practice heavily encouraged by you.

When Jaemin finishes listing the dishes back and receives four nodding heads, he smiles in thanks and head’s to the kitchen, yelling out ‘New order!’ for the chefs to be aware of. Coming back out and placing a copy of the notepad at the staff counter, his smile turns genuine when he sees you, showcasing two thumbs up.

Now bashful, he says “I think I’ve replaced you as ‘favourite waiter’ now.” His smile is cheeky as he says this, with you rolling your eyes, pointing at the fridge near the counter instead. “Stop spewing bullshit and get the drinks ready. I’ll write down the prices of each dish.” With a salute and nod of his head, he goes to fetch the drinks from the fridge and the bottle of red wine nearby, as well as an empty wine glass. Preparing the drinks, your shoulders brush against each other in the tight space of the staff counter, with you looking back and forth between the menu and the order slip. Jaemin misses when your eyebrows furrow together, inspecting the slip for something.

“Uhm, Jaemin,” He hums back in response, eyes still focused on pouring no more than one standard drink of the wine. “Did you tell the kitchen that this is the table with a mushroom allergy?”

Jaemin’s heart drops to his ass.

His posture straightens immediately, vision zeroing in on the table he just took the order of, as his head slowly turns to you, a million thoughts run around in his head. With the expression he sports, you quickly grab a pen and a highlighter, running back into the kitchen as quickly as possible. Scanning the restaurant, when he sees all the customers occupied, he slowly slips away and into the kitchen, leaving them unattended to somehow save his ass, and from a possible murder case.

“—do you mean there’s a mushroom allergy? And why did none of you tell us? Of course the mixed vegetables and chow mien have vegetables in them.” Kun speaks as he cooks on the wok, lifting it every now and then as the clang of his wok’s spatula echoes out, mixing around the satay chicken.

“He wrote it down but just forgot to say it out loud,” You bluff, pointing at the copy of the slip that Jaemin brought back into the kitchen, now adorning the words ‘NO MUSHROOM’ in bold, highlighted letters at the top. Your other hand is clasped behind your back, holding the pen and highlighter. Jaehyun momentarily stops making his fried rice, coming up to the counter, and looking at you over it before snatching the slip, his aggressive manner making Jaemin wince slightly.

With a poor squint of his eyes, you and Jaemin wait with bated breaths for him to somehow finish reading the two words. When his eyes stop squinting, he spares a look at both you and Jaemin, placing the slip back down onto the counter before reaching into the bowl containing the ingredients for the dishes, fishing out the mushrooms and putting them back from where he originally picked them up, waving you both off. And you barely waste any time, muttering a sorry and going towards the curtains, pushing Jaemin out with you.

“Sorry. Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else to say, looking at you while you ignore his gaze so close to your face, centring him back to the staff counter. You shake your head and hand at him as if to say that he has nothing to be sorry about.

“Mistakes happen. Now can you put the puppy eyes away? We have a new customer to serve.”

“I’m not that stupid to bel— Hi, welcome to Tao Village. How can I help you?”

“Jaemin, do you think you could give the Chardonnay to table three? It’s for the man with the glasses,” You ask as you calculate the total of a takeaway order you just took, glancing at him to see if he’s available.

“Sure,” It turns out that you’ve already set out the glass and the bottle, as he opens the cap and pours it in, before taking a tray and placing the glass on it. You’ve taught him a few times to hold the tray with one hand, but he’s taking it slow and only using a single hand with drinks and sauces that he’s asked to deliver, not wanting to be too ambitious. Balancing it, he eyes for table number three and said man with glasses, strategically planning to swiftly arrive and deliver the drink.

As he waltz’s his way through, with his vision zeroed in on the customer, he completely misses the lady at the table before wanting to get out of her chair, completely skidding it across the floor and making an impact on Jaemin’s side.

Everything is suddenly carried out in slow motion, as he sees the fright on the woman's face, the tilt of his body and tray towards the customer settled on the table, the white wine toppling over the rim of the glass. If he retains his focus, maybe he can slow-mo recover and balance himself, only causing the wine to spill on the ground and maybe himself. He is willing to sacrifice his (Shotaro’s) black t-shirt.

Then he blinks.

A groan echoes and silent gasps are spilt, as he opens his eyes and sees first the man drenched in white wine, and Jaemin’s hand on his arm, balancing himself. Before he could even separate himself and apologise profusely, he is suddenly grabbed by the collar, and in his head, he’s already commemorating the lovely memories he’s made here with you and mourns how quickly he has to abandon the delusion that you two will end up together.

With one eye squeezed close, he’s not sure if it’s better to expect a punch or a slap against his face, but before he can anticipate either, he hears someone say “Excuse me, sir,”

“What do you want,” The man snarls at you, as you make eye contact with him, a silent customer-service-smile sported on your face as always.

“Apologies sir, but we don’t accept this sort of behaviour in our restaurant. Violence is not part of our values. I do ask of you to let out staff member go, you’re scaring him.” Jaemin can’t help but nod his head at the man, who glares at him before letting him go and jamming a finger into Jaemin’s chest.

“This boy spilt my drink all over me, how is that a part of your values?” He yells, making Jaemin wince at the loud volume, but you merely blink, stepping forward and closer to the customer, lowering your voice in an attempt to get him to soften his, too.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience caused sir, but this sort of behaviour is not tolerated. If you would allow our staff to apologise and we’ll-”

The customer scoffs, “Apologise? An apology isn’t gonna fix the stain caused on my shirt. Isn’t the customer always right? Who the fuck are you to speak to me like this,” He shoves you at your shoulder as he says this, causing you to stumble back into Jaemin’s figure, whose arms shoot out and hold you by the waist.

The curtains leading to the kitchen skid aside, and out steps Jaehyun. It all feels so dramatic if Jaemin were to look at it from a perspective of an outsider, as Jaehyun walks over to you three, his figure looming over all of you.

His smile is blinding, dimples forming on both his cheeks as he clasps his hands together. “Out,” Is all he says, hand now facing the door of the restaurant.

The man blanches. “But—”

Jaehyun merely shakes his head in a stern manner, smile suddenly dropping, pursing his lips as if taunting a child. Without making contact with the customer, he guides him gently towards the door, before the man gets the memo and stomps his way out. Jaehyun turns to the remaining customers at the table, providing a formal apology and confiding in them that they simply don’t tolerate this sort of behaviour towards their staff.

“Would you like to pack away your remaining food? You can pay at the counter just at the front, thank you for your understanding and apologies for the inconvenience,” And with that, he steps back into the kitchen, curtains shutting close as if they barely jostled. As you and Jaemin pick up the plates and pack the food into takeaway containers, Jaemin slowly approaches you, his arm brushing against yours.

“Are you okay,” He asks, voice solemn. It never feels nice to get yelled at by a customer, Jaemin’s just used to it, but he forgets that it can take a toll on different people.

Your smile is shy, barely looking in his direction as you click to close the lid of the container, grabbing both of your containers before placing them in a takeaway bag. “Yeah, I’m okay.” without a second glance, you walk to the front counter, giving the bag to the customer as well as the receipt.

“Can you two close up? Kun and I have to get up early tomorrow to make it to the fish market before the good quality scallops all sell out.” Jaehyun says this later in the day, as he folds his apron and places it on the staff counter. “I’ve already mopped the back. Do you have the keys?” He looks at you as he says this, to which you nod and give a thumbs up. With a nod of his head, he goes through the back door of the restaurant, leaving you two alone. Jaemin mops as you wipe the tables clean, preparing them to be set up once again tomorrow. Silence engulfs you two, with the only sounds being the slosh of the mop in the bucket and the scrape of chairs as you manoeuvre around them.

Jaemin decides that this is a good time to speak up. “Thank you for doing that,” He continues pumping the mop into the drainer part of the bucket, removing all excess water before plopping it back down. “I wouldn’t have minded if he had smacked me,” At this you laugh, cheeks bunching up cutely making Jaemin’s heart flutter.

“Did you want him to smack you?” You look into his eyes this time, the lights of the restaurant reflecting in your iris’. Jaemin thinks he could get used to this.

“Are you kink-shaming me? I doubt that’s allowed within the Tao VIllage values,”

“I’m not too sure. Hey, why don't we talk to the boss about it tomorrow?”

Jaemin’s grin is cheshire-like, “Wouldn't be the worst conversation I’d have,” At that you raise an eyebrow, to which he throws a wink. A comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, as you continue with your tasks, working around one another and you avoid the places Jaemin has freshly mopped while he manoeuvres himself around you.

It’s when you’re outside of the place and locking the doors, sizing up and down the door to put all the locks in place when you speak up. “You don’t have to thank me, by the way. People make mistakes, and Jaehyun would be less mad at me than at you. Plus, Kun doesn’t care like that either, as long as he can run this business, you can break as many cartons of drinks as you desire,” Looking over your shoulder, you catch Jaemin gazing at you, the same puppy eyes leering at you. Looking away, you pick up your stuff from the ground, wanting to bid him goodbye and completely disappear, maybe quit this job and move countries and settle down with a farming family of seven that don’t mind an additional one person to work their fields and pet their cows as a form of cattle therapy. Anything but face Jaemin’s face abd his ridiculously handsome features.

But before you could begin your progress, Jaemin calls out your name, making you turn around to face him once more. Thankfully, there’s no sign of the puppy eyes, but he is smiling.

“Since it’s a Sunday and we have a day off tomorrow, do you want to grab some food with me?”

The warmth from the broth and fishcake in your cup seeps into your hand, preventing them from getting too cold in the Autumn breeze. Jaemin counts his notes under the red and yellow haze of the fishcake stall, handing them to the old lady once he collects the right amount. The woman snatches the notes once Jaemin presents them and counts them twice, nodding her head in dismissal when she’s done.

Picking up his cup, the two of you manoeuvre yourself around the park and settle on a free bench, looking out into the lit-up park, with parents and kids at the playground while adults settle their picnic mats and huddle around near the fairy-lit trees; the Central park seems to be teeming with more people with the sudden shift of seasons, as people embrace the coming cold by celebrating in their own ways. Kids scream at the top of their lungs when sliding down a steep slide, and adults teem with laughter as they swish their wine in their plastic glasses.

Picking out a stick of fishcake from the cup full of broth, you blow on it a few times before biting into it, settling into the park bench more comfortably as the warmth of the food engulfs you. Excluding the bustle of people, you and Jaemin sit quietly as you indulge in your food.

But the silence doesn’t last long. “I don’t know how kids are so agile at such a young age. Like, aren’t their bones basically jelly?” Jaemin points at the few kids climbing up ropes at the playground, taking them to a tall slide as a reward.

“It doesn’t look too hard,” You quip, head leaning closer to Jaemin as you look at the kids climbing up vicariously. Jaemin turns to look at you, making you realise just how close you leaned in. “You think you could climb that?”

“At my age? Easy,” You scoff, leaning back and away, now feeling more flustered. If Jaemin catches on to your behaviour, he doesn’t make it obvious, sipping on the broth in his cup and opting to ask you about your favourite playground equipment.

“Thank you for the fishcakes,” You pat your stomach, smiling at your coworker.

“Of course,” He rocks back and forth on his heels the two of you standing at the edge of the park, ready to part ways. “I can never have a pretty girl like you be deprived of such Autumn goodness,” Jaemin teems at you as he says this, ready to receive some sort of backlash for his behaviour.

Imagine his surprise when you slightly guffaw, before stopping yourself with a hand to your mouth and a straight face. “If you think I’m so pretty,” You start as you turn around, slowly beginning the walk back to your house. “You would do more than just buy me a 3,000 won snack; I think pretty girls like me deserve more. No?” And with a wave, you continue your walk, leaving Jaemin with wide eyes and a slightly concerning grip on his cup.

It’s been eight weeks since Jaemin started working at Tao Village as a waiter, and he hasn’t known peace throughout.

It’s not that the pay is bad, or that the people around him treat him terribly. The pay is generous enough and as rarely as he sees Kun and Jaehyun on his shift, even if they’re a curtain width away from him, they’re nice and give him a container of food after every shift. And you’re an angel on earth, helping him whenever he fucks something up, and saving his ass nearly six times since he’s started working here.

The problem is that he makes those mistakes. And he has to go out of his way to not make these mistakes, and after every shift he feels like he’s worked five days with no break when in reality he just had a five-hour shift and a very generous thirty-minute break, eating hot and sour soup while you tell him about the weird customers you’ve encountered, asking him to rank them from most to least smashable with the details given from your anecdote.

Speaking of you, he thinks you're the epitome of his worries. Ever since he slipped up and basically confessed to thinking you’re attractive, you’ve been tormenting him, torturing even. If he were to tell you this, you would deny it all. And of course you would, because—

“I’m not doing anything,” You reply when Jaemin asks what you’re doing with the order slip that he’s just written down on. With a pen in your hand and a separate order slip, you’re copying down everything word for word instead of just taking Jaemin’s one to the back like normal.

“Yes, you are. Why are you making a copy of my slip— Are you ripping it to pieces?!” Jaemin shrieks, which catches the attention of the patrons in the restaurant, earning him a light smack against his arm.

You sigh, “Look, Jaehyun doesn’t like it sometimes when the slip looks too messy. There’s already a lot of oil and water being splattered on these poor things the minute they go past the curtain.” You shake the paper in your hand. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, you grab Jaemin’s hand, not looking at his face in case he’s flashing those eyes again. Jokes on you, because he’s also blushing, so you’re doing him a favour.

“Your handwriting isn’t messy, they’re just used to mine. I don’t want them to make a fuss over nothing,” You pat his hand and head to the back, not before reminding him to check on table number seven.

Looking at his left hand, the hand which you grasped hours ago, he holds it to his chest and prays to whatever holds power to keep him strong. He doesn’t know if you’re doing these things on purpose, or if he just has a weak heart.

“You barely go out of your room, so I’d say the second option is more likely.” Mark quips, tilting his body to the same side that his kart skids in the game. Jaemin lies down on his bed arm slung over his eyes as Mark plays on his console.

“Am I just due for a good fuck? Is that why I’m basically busting whenever she brushes past me?”

“Yo,” Mark sounds concerned now. “Brushes past you? Like, it’s just the accidental skinship that makes you horny?”

Jaemin sits up now, wanting to prove himself innocent despite the words he uttered just seconds ago. “You have to understand, I think she’s doing it on purpose.”

“I’ve seen your place Jaemin. The staff counter seems like a tight fit, I don’t know how she can be doing these things on purpose.” Jaemin huffs at that, falling back onto his bed again. He doesn’t know how to explain to his best friend that he isn’t delusional, so he just mutters a ‘whatever’ and tries tickling him, wanting him to lose the game and get last place.

“Yup, your order is just right here. So it’s just the large special frie—” His voice gets stuck in his throat repeating back the order to the customer when he feels a figure pressed up against his back, and with a glance to the side he sees you leering over, looking at the slip he holds in his hand. When he makes eye contact with you, you barely give back a nod of your head, encouraging him to continue reading.

“Sorry. Uhm, just the large special fried rice, and two servings of the spring rolls,” You lean in even more, and Jaemin can only thank the great heavens above for the bit of privacy that the takeaway counter provides. He feels the plush of your breasts pressing against him, leaning against him while you reach over below the counter to some pens, opening the notebook of table reservations and writing in a new booking.

He only messes up putting in the total price of the order twice on the machine, before the customer picks up his food, leaving you two behind the counter. Just as he’s about to turn around and say something, you separate yourself from him, patting him on his shoulder and closing the notebook shut.

The first thing he does is find his bearings, as he clutches a hand at his chest, then his neck, and lastly his ears, feeling how hot they were. Next, he has to somehow find a way to see if he just made that whole scenario up. Looking at where you now were, which was at a table, conversing with a customer, he was a few seconds away from losing his mind. But his thoughts were confirmed when you glanced a look at him, the corner of your lips lifting ever so slightly before you continue speaking to the table.

Jaemin doesn’t know how long he can last.

He now knows how long he can last.

Unsurprisingly, it’s not long at all. He doesn’t know if what you’re doing is on purpose, or he’s just infatuated with you enough to now notice these things, but all he can blame it on is the fact that it’s been some time since he last got laid, and so that’s why he’s getting flustered by your proximity these days.

But he also thinks that you might be doing some things on purpose; like squeezing past him in the tight margin of the staff counter to wipe some inconspicuous water stain, bodies brushing against each other in a tight squeeze, or inspecting his hand for too long after he’s delivered a sizzling plate of Mongolian lamb to the table, in search for an injury you both know is not there if he hasn’t already blatantly dropped the whole dish onto the table. Or that one time when you both went to the cold room, with him reaching up for the carton of beers while you kneel to get the soft drinks, side to side. You had momentarily lost your balance while pulling out the boxes from the back, resulting in your hand clutching at his pants, wanting to regain your balance.

“Oh, sorry,” Your words are a clear contrast between your actions, as your hands linger on for longer, lashes fluttering when you look up at him, the light of the cold room twinkling in your eyes. Jaemin swears he feels your hands squeeze ever so slightly before you let go, shuffling out of the room with a carton tucked by your side.

He doesn’t know how to confront you about it; it’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the sudden burst of attention he’s receiving from you, it’s just that it’s both not enough and too much. He wants more but he doesn’t want to risk popping a boner while taking a sixty-year-old woman’s order.

Every time he thinks he’s got you cornered, something always comes along to save you, like the call of a customer, or Kun coming through the curtains to get some hot water, even though his sightings are as common as blue moons.

So when Jaehyun asks you two to restock some of the items into the storage room as a part of your closing shift, Jaemin thinks the opportunity is basically being graced into the palm of his hands.

“The stuff might be a bit heavy, so be careful with your posture when picking up the boxes,” Jaehyun tuts, scrubbing his wok clean. “And remember to lodge something between the door, it still gets stuck from the inside. Don’t go home too late, but also don’t half-ass things as well.” Jaemin almost shivers when he hears her mom echoing back the same things to him in his head.

“Jaemin, do you know that door wedge we have at the back? You can use that, sometimes even I forget. Kun’s trying his best with the handle.” He steps over the freshly mopped places, going past and at the cashier, placing your tips in your dedicated storage boxes.

“Okay we get it Jaehyun, but if you keep speaking we won’t be done unti—” The front door shuts before you can finish what you were saying, but you only let out a light sigh before finishing up with the mopping, with Jaemin drying the cutlery with a towel.

“I’m gonna start with the boxes first,” Jaemin nods his head at you, seeing you go through the back door and towards the storage room. Jaehyun and Kun were kind enough to place a few boxes inside, but there were some still littered outside.

When a few minutes pass and Jaemin is all done, he still sees the extra boxes outside, not having moved a bit. He calls for your name, just to see if you’re back there.

“Yeah, I’m here, just—” You grunt, balancing the box on your knee as you take its contents out, placing them on the shelf. “Trying to sort this. Can you help me with the boxes outside? Be careful with the door, I have my shoe lodged there.” Jaemin rolls his eyes at the third reminder of the day, before shutting the lights off from inside the restaurant and picking up the boxes near the door, stacking them on top to only use one trip to the storage room. The light from within shines a silver lining across the now dimmed restaurant, as Jaemin nudges the door open with his leg, careful to avoid your shoe as you had advised.

He places the boxes down with a groan, straightening up and stretching his back. “That was a piece of cake,” He smiles cheekily at you, to which you barely react, handing him the box you were balancing, opting to take the items out from his hands, making the process more efficient.

“Are you having fun?” Jaemin speaks again, not letting the silence between you two stretch out for too long.

“With putting these things away? Not exactly my definition of fun,” You look at him questioningly, picking up another item while glancing at him.

“Not with the packages,” He shakes the one in his hand for emphasis. “I meant ever since that night at the park, where I called you cute—”

“Pretty,” You mutter, and the word slightly shocks you both, as Jaemin sees your shoulders stiffen. You have been doing everything on purpose, because you, too, put some meaning into his attempts.

“You keeping tally on how I compliment you?” putting the box down, he opts to look at your face as he says this. It’s not every day that he gets to tease you like this, so he uses this opportunity to rile you up a bit as you do to him, body inching closer to yours.

You feel the heat radiating off of him and onto your back, as you place down the last item in your hand on the shelf and turn around, only to be startled at the proximity of you two, Jaemin inching closer with the box discarded at the side. This close to him, your eyes tilt up to look at his, mischievous iris’ grinning back at you.

“I don’t…” Jaemin’s eyes glance at your lips as you start, parted open now as your mind blanks on what to say next. The distance between your bodies shortens, and you feel yourself craving for something. A simple touch of his hand at your sides, the heat of his breath at your cheek, the soft push of his lips against yours.

Your tongue brushes the corner of your lip at that thought, an action Jaemin can’t miss with how close you two are.

“You don’t? Don’t what, don’t know what I’m talking about? Finish your sentence pretty,” Jaemin’s hand raises, and your chest flutters at the anticipation of his touch, only for it to deplete when he places it on the wall beside your shoulder, getting closer and closer.

You want to scream, needing him to just do something, anything, but your body still inches back, wanting to see how far either of you can prolong this. Jaemin notices your game, leaning his head in and bringing his lips to your ear.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything for you, just gotta have you use your words, baby.” At this your eyes flutter, fists clenching at your sides to gather up the courage as his warm breath fans against your neck.

“Can you kiss me?” Your eyes look at his as you push his body back by his shoulders, wanting to look at him as you ask for him, for more. Smile slowly softening, he leans in and places a peck onto your lips, plush skin pressed against you, both of your eyes closing shut. Before you get to do anything else, he parts back slowly, seemingly done. But you’ve barely even started.

“More,” You mutter before placing your arms around his shoulders, pushing both of you closer to one another as you lean in, kissing his lips once again, catching him by surprise. His lips are only still for a split second, before he reciprocates, pushing against you, giving you exactly what you asked for.

“Your hands, please,” You mutter in between as they slowly turn from innocent pecks to open-mouthed kisses, your own hands coming to his biceps, wanting him to touch you.

“Where, baby?” He sighs against you, hands grasping yours, ready to be guided.

“Everywhere,” You clasp your hands together, before grabbing his wrists, placing one at your waist and the other underneath your boob, arching your back in encouragement and contempt of finally having him closer. And Jaemin listens well, hands squeezing and thumbing at your body over your clothes skin, before roaming them around. Slithering one behind your back, pushing your body flush against his, chests brushing as he rushes to kiss you more, lips pressing against you feverishly. Your arms wrap around his neck and shoulders, wanting your boobs to be pressed against him fully, nipples perked with arousal from him, having the both of you pushed back and against the wall as he follows your lead of wanting to be all over each other.

Except walls don’t click shut.

But Jaemin either doesn’t notice or pays it no mind, continuing his quest of ravaging your lips, not that you mind, as he squeezes the flesh of your boob and brushes a finger over your clothed nipples, biting lightly onto your bottom lip as your mouth parts slightly from the pleasure, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue.

“Jaemin,” You try calling for him, voice coming out a bit hoarse as you pull back slightly. He takes that as a sign to venture more.

“What is it, hmm? Want me to go lower?” He doesn’t wait for your reply as he angles his head down towards your neck, breath tickling against your skin as he nips at it lightly.

“No, Jaemin. There’s—” He chuckles at you, looking into your eyes with a smirk now adorning his face. He raises his eyebrows at you while he scans your body pressed against his, and that shouldn’t affect you as much as it did.

“What, does my pretty baby want more?” his smile now turns slightly giddy, placing a sweet kiss on your lips before bringing both hands to your sides, squeezing slightly making you react to the sensitive spot being handled. “I can’t fuck you here, as much as I’d love to. But I don’t wanna be looking at a box of fortune cookies—”

“Jaemin, we just closed the door.” And you physically see Jaemin react to this, as he processes your words with a confused look, before the light in his eyes dims and his face falls, looking frantically between you and the door behind you. He searches at the bottom of the door where you had lodged your shoe, only to see it past the frame, squeezed from the pressure of your bodies against the door.

He’s about to apologise profusely, mind scrambling to think of a way he can get you two out. But before he can get too far, you plant a kiss on his cheek, and another one on his lips when he turns his head to look at you. You let out a light sigh as his hands find themselves back onto your body, pushing your hands towards his jacket, wanting it off. He shucks it off and throws it behind, hands grabbing at you again as you bring your fingers to rake at the hair at his neck.

“But—” Jaemin cuts himself off with a whimper when your hand grazes under his shirt, the cold press of your fingers against his warm stomach, fingers splaying themselves against his taut muscles, grazing your nails lightly making his body flush even further.

“Fuck, the door,” He tries again, but falls short as his head falls against your shoulder when your fingers linger past the seam of his pants.

“Later, I need to feel you,” You mutter. “Someone will come by tomorrow morning anyway,”

“Oh, fuck.” Jaemin curses as you palm his dick over his pants, his hips bucking up and into your touch, wanting more of you against him. His hand pushes your shirt up, tucking it before he slips his fingers behind your back, reaching for your bra and taking it off once the hooks are undone. His hands cup at your boobs, vision glazed over you as he squeezes them together. He leans in with his mouth parted, looking up at you and making eye contact, whining slightly in lieu of asking for your permission. It’s hard to wait for your word when he’s just as desperate, wanting your touch and scent all over him.

“Jaemin, please,” You pant, hand flying to his hair and gripping softly, scratching your fingers against his scalp as an initiative. “Make me feel good, I want your mouth on me,”

He swipes his tongue against your perked bud, before blowing lightly and saying “Anything for my doll,” mouthing at your breast, before closing his lips around your nipple, sucking in as his free hand occupies itself with your other boob, slightly scraping his nail against you before pinching your tit. The pain and pleasure shoots through your body, as you moan his name, nails scratching his head.

Your whimpers and whines turn Jaemin on even more, as he swipes at your bud one last time before pulling back, tipping your face back towards him and kissing you again.

“Want your fingers…been thinking about this so much,” You reach for one of his hands, guiding him to the apex of your thighs, looking at him as you press his fingers against where you want him the most. Even through the thick fabric of your pants, the push of his fingers against your core has you whining, happy for some friction but wanting, needing more.

As his hand goes to unzip your pants, he replaces them deftly with his leg instead, pressing his knee against you.

“Fuck,” You sigh, as he presses himself closer to you, body now flushed against yours, thigh stimulating your pussy through your pants, mouth at your cheek, jaw, neck. Jaemin is completely overpowering your senses, yet you want more.

“Pretty doll, letting me do all of this to you.” he pushes your pants down, leaving you in your underwear and your shirt tucked up, fixing it every now and then to pinch at your tits, loving when you keen against him. “Wanting me to do all of this to you. Have you thought about me a lot? Bet you thought about us sneaking off right here so you could suck me off, or maybe thinking about me taking you right behind the counter, forcing yourself to act normal with my cock in you,” He hums against your ear, swiping his tongue against the shell before biting lightly on your lobe, wanting you to remember his touch all over you.

You’re not entirely sure what he's saying, yet you nod your head up and down, moan slipping past your lips at the light swipe of his fingers against your clothed core, doing anything to get him to give you more.

Jaemin chuckles, “Is your mind going blank already? I barely did anything to you baby, do I have to dumb it down for you and remind you?” His condescending tone is the only thing that registers in your head; that and the fact that he’s not doing anything, hands splayed still at your sides, his knee not pressing hard enough against you, with no signs of more.

He leans in and presses a sweet peck against you, before his hand squeezes your cheeks together, an attempt of garnering your attention back.

“If you want something,” He leans in, just a breath away, but moves back when your eyes lock on his lips and lean in. “You gotta tell me. I’ll only do what you want me to, got it?”

Nodding your head, you add a breathy ‘yes’ when Jaemin raises his eyebrows at you.

“Good girl,” He smiles, and it only makes your head just the slightest bit dizzy. But you’re brought back when you feel the press of his thigh against you once more, a friendly reminder of what you’re missing out on.

“I want your fingers,” You start, voice wavering a bit, getting shy from having to voice your dirty thoughts. But the press of his finger pads against you edges you on even more, encouraging you to continue. “Always look so good doing the most mundane things. Want you to fuck me with your fingers, fuck,” Jaemin proves to be a great listener, as he quickly makes work of shoving your underwear aside, commenting how you’ve ‘soaked through your panties and my pants, messy girl’. He rubs against your clit, building up a rhythm, before rubbing his fingers against your folds, soaking them in your juices thoroughly before the pad of his fingers press against your hole, making quick work.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jaemin grunts at the squeeze of your walls against his two fingers, filling you to the hilt and shallowly pushing. “Bet you would feel so good around my cock,” You moan at his words, eyes falling shut as you rest your forehead against his shoulder, giving him better access to whisper such filthy words to you.

“So fucking dirty, getting off of my fingers in public like this. You’re lucky it’s late, no one gets to see you like this,” His fingers quicken their pace, the hot feeling in your stomach tightening as the palm of his hand smacks against your clit, other hand occupying itself with gripping your ass or tweaking your nipples. “Only I get to see you like this, messy and undone. All mine for the taking.”

“All yours,” You echo back, head burrowing further into his neck. As you feel another finger push into you, his pace making you clench tighter and tighter, you let out a high-pitched whine when his other hand comes down to stimulate your clit. Mockingly, Jaemin repeats back your moan in the same high-pitched voice, twisting the end of it to sound like a question.

“Is my baby close?” He pecks at the side of your forehead, a sweet gesture contrasting the pressure of his fingers against you.

“Please, Jaemin. Don’t stop,” You feel yourself grow hot, storage room now feeling stuffy as you separate from his shoulder, head tilted back against the door as your senses are overwhelmed.

“You’re so hot, fuck.” He smothers the pool of drool gathering at the corner of your lips, spreading it onto your cheek before leaning in for a kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, too close and fucked out to makeout steadily, just wanting to feel him against you. Curling his fingers against you, you feel yourself ripping over the edge as he presses his other hand against your stomach and swipes his tongue over yours, sucking at the tip of your muscle before finishing it off with a peck.

“Let go, pretty. Show me how messy your cunt can get,” Fingers fucking into you, with a final rub and pinch of your clit you break off into a silent moan, hands clutching at his shoulders as you tense up, finally reaching your high. Jaemin’s fingers keep a steady pace as he helps you ride off your high, now going slower than before. But his fingers don’t stop even when you calm down, seeing how far you can go as he overstimulates you.

“Hurts,” You cry, but don’t make a move to stop his ministrations, hips pushing up into his touch, panting against his mouth when he kisses you again, pushing his fingers in and out of you. After a few more seconds though, your whine lilts painfully and you weakly push at his hand, to which he relents as he slows down the pace, before pulling them out carefully.

“It’s gonna feel icky for a bit, so bear with me,” Jaemin softly murmurs, reaching above to a shelf that conveniently holds paper towel rolls. The emptiness that is left emphasises the tiredness you feel, as your shoulders slump and you lean back against the door for further support. Jaemin folds the towel and dabs at your core, cleaning you up to the best of his abilities before he wraps his clean hand around your waist, manoeuvring you to lean against the wall, carefully pulling your shirt down and underwear and slacks back up. He slides the two of you down slowly, and you open your eyes to look at him, tiredness slowly wearing away as your heart flutters at his gestures.

“You okay?” He hums, his back now pressed against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with you as he gently smoothens his hand down your scalp, before cupping your face gently. You nod your head, leaning in and pressing a kiss against him.

“More than okay, that was so hot.” He chuckles at your words, poorly concealing the smug look that overtakes his features.

“I’m glad at least one of us had fun,” He teases, which makes you feel shy, as you spare a glance down to see a chub at the zip of his pants. He waves you off, adjusting himself a bit before sliding his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.

“With what we did just then? I’ll be able to come for days even just thinking about you,” He laughs softly as you squeeze his hand in warning, before resting your head against his shoulder, with Jaemin reaching over for his jacket discarded earlier on, tugging it over your legs to provide warmth.

“You haven’t made a mistake today,” You mutter, breaking the silence that had settled as you play with his fingers with both your hands. Jaemin can only look at the side of your face as you say this, before getting comfortable and pressing his cheek against your head. “How could I when you have such high standards to meet? I need to be on your good side,” Your scoff holds no mean intentions, glancing at him briefly over your shoulder.

“You’re already on my good side,” He faux gasps.

“You’re telling me you liked me this whole time? I didn’t have to prove myself to you?” Jaemin squeals as he sways side to side, before wrapping himself around you and swaying you along with him.

You’re shy when you speak up again, muttering “I’ve already told you how I thought.. about you,” He tsks as he meets your eyes again, eyes going down to look at your lips that you bite nervously.

“Don’t even think about talking about that, I don’t know how long I can stay working here and pining after you.”

“But… I like— wait. Do you not like working at the restaurant?” Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, Jaemin tenses a bit at the information he let slip. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s ungrateful for your efforts, but the soft gaze that you give to him only soothes him.

“Okay, I’ll be honest. I think you’ve noticed by now that I’m not the most, flawless, person ever.”

“You’re telling me that you’ve made a few mistakes? No way,” He whines at your tease, as you bite your lip to contain your laughter, nodding your head to get him to continue.

“I’m just not really good at keeping part-time jobs like this. Things that need me to physically and actively do things. I once got fired from a scouts guidance group because I would give badges to the kids when they asked.”

“…Aren’t scout leaders there by volunteer? How can they fire you?”

“That’s my point!” He grumbles against you, bringing your head back down to his shoulder when you lift yourself to look at him, not wanting to look at you directly in your eyes. “And working as a waiter is definitely not easy, because I have to guess when a customer wants to order before they actually call me, and help with food and dietary needs and advice, and be smiling and happy all the time even when the old ladies pinch at my cheek and call me handsome like I’m some three-year-old golden child.” You pat at his bicep soothingly, fingers squeezing as he rambles on, letting him pour it all out.

“Well,” You bring your hands up to your lips, pressing a light kiss at the back of his hand before settling it back against your legs. “If you hate the job so much, why not quit and find something better?”

He stills as you ask this, thinking about your question. He hasn’t ventured far from the initial annoyance of having the job, not thinking of the reasons why he’s staying in contrast with the million reasons why he doesn’t want to. But the tingling feeling left at the back of his hand seems to be enough of an answer.

“Because I get to spend my time with you,” You squeeze your lips together as he says this, not knowing if you should cringe or swell at his words. You giggle lightly when you see him fall shy, hiding his face into your shoulder.

“Okay, then don’t quit,” You quip when you realise he’s not going to come out of hiding anytime soon, opting to play with your laced fingers instead. “Stay with me. You can deal with customers who ask if we have duck on our menu even when we clearly don’t, and try your best to not burn your finger on the sizzling plates, or get locked in the storage room overnight.” Jaemin feels bittersweet at the scenarios you provide, torn between what he should do.

“Or you can ask me out and then quit,” You shrug, conveniently avoiding his sudden gaze on you as he sits up. “Up to you,”

“I can do that?” You glare at him.

“I’m gonna blow up, Jaemin. I can’t believe you haven’t—” He stops you with a peck to your lips, now grinning like a maniac. “Can I be your boyfriend?”

“What will I gain?”

“Uhm… unlimited head?” You clench your grip on his hand harder. “...And a very deep and meaningful emotional connection where we fill each other's gaps and lift our—”

“Unlimited? Can you promise?” He’s about to agree without a second thought, before he sees you raise a suspicious eyebrow at him.

“..Yes?”

“Then yes, you can be mine.” He sighs contentedly now, cuddling himself back into you.

“I can’t wait to quit.”

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the sound of a door hinge and a sudden shine of light. You try to bring your hand up to shield the onslaught of the sunshine, but the weight on your hand reminds you of your position, with Jaemins head tucked on your shoulder and yours stacked on top, hands still laced and legs slightly tangled into each other. With a squint of your eyes, you look up at the figure standing at the door.

Jaehyun’s facial expression doesn’t change much, other than the slight parting of his mouth. To you, this means that not only is he shocked still, but also somehow angry and maybe … confused? If the left side of his lip is slightly tilted down; you’re still trying to learn.

“Jaemin,” Your hoarse voice calls, shaking the boy next to you lightly to wake him up. He whines, lips mumbling gibberish into your shoulder.

“The doors open, Jaem,” That wakes him up a bit more, as he squints towards the open door.

“Oh,” He says, and then Jaehyun clears his throat. “...Oh,” The two of you rise slowly, as Jaemin places his jacket over your shoulders.

“So,” Jaehyun starts when the three of you step out of the room, the two of you now standing like students being punished for their wrongdoings. It takes all his willpower for Jaemin to not raise his hands in fists over his head.

“Funny you ask, boss. Remember when you told me not to close the door?” Jaemin thought he started off strong before he saw you looking at him with wide eyes. Jaehyun’s lip tilts to the left.

“How could you ignore the only warning I gave you? Not only did you lock yourself in that room, but her too? You know how dangerous that is, what if we didn’t have a Sunday shift to open for? This liability costs you, Jaemin.” At that, the boy feels his posture straighten.

“Am I..?” Jaehyun's frown is the strongest expression Jaemin has ever seen. He feels like doing a backflip right now.

“Fired? Of course—” And it probably is rude for him to whoop as loud as he did, but Jaemin is on cloud nine, having bagged a person like you and being liberated from having to mop the floors like clockwork. He cups your cheeks and kisses you square on your lips, laughing at the surprised squeak you let out and the bliss he feels. Taking and shaking Jaehyun’s hand, he turns and walks out of the place.

Jaehyun sighs. “This is who you were rooting for?”

Your cheeks feel hot from the sudden public display of affection, before shrugging. “He’s cute. And he’s always trying his best.” You try as your hand clutches at the sleeve of the jacket he’s lent you.

Ever since being fired from the restaurant, Jaemin feels like he now has the best of both worlds, going to the restaurant after your shift to pick you up, or spending time with you as your boyfriend throughout the week, not feeling like he only has to look forward to a shift to see your face. You’re also happy with this shift in your relationship, spending your time with him freely.

But Mark isn’t.

“I don’t know why you couldn’t have asked her out and kept your job. You don’t even get to use your twenty percent employee discount.”

“I mean, if I’m an ex-employee then I can’t see why I couldn’t.” Mark grunts as he smacks at Jaemin, leaving the latter with a pout on his lip as he rubs at his shoulder.

“I miss the Mongolian lamb, man. Can we not go back at all?” Jaemin thinks about it briefly, his mind going back to the restaurant and how you’re probably working your Friday shift at the moment. “I don’t see why not,” he hums, thinking about planning a day when both he and Mark can drop by, but he is dragged to his feet and is being pushed to wear his shoes and shrug on a jacket, before he is out the door with Mark guiding him through it all.

“Welcome to Tao Village. Oh, hi,” You look up from the slip of the phone order you just took, seeing Jaemin and Mark standing at the door. Jaemin’s lips break into a smile as he sees you, already enamoured even when you’re in your work uniform. Mark merely smiles and nods his head as a greeting, before lifting up two fingers, gesturing for a table for them.

As the boys take their seats, you go up to them with a bottle of water and ask Mark if he wants his Mongolian lamb dish for today. He clasps a hand to his chest, touched. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“It’s all you order, really.” You write down his order into the slip in your hand, before looking at your boyfriend, who’s been gazing at you fondly, barely concealing adoration. You tap at the menu in front of him, encouraging him to voice his order.

“I want you,” Jaemin’s smile is menacing as he says this. Mark visibly shrinks in his seat, but you barely blink. “Gross, dude,”

“A dish's name, Jaem. Or I’ll tell Jaehyun that you’re here.” At that he pouts, leaning back before asking for fried rice, and a glass of red wine.

Mark gets his dish on the sizzling plate, and Jaemin spends two whole minutes trying to make sure that your fingers didn’t get caught on to the hot pan. You smack at his hand to get him back to his food, to which he flings his hand back, making impact with his glass and conveniently spilling the red drink all over. Mark blinks twice at the scene unfolding, pausing when he almost shoved a piece of lamb into his mouth, before continuing when he sees the wine only seep into the tablecloth and not anywhere near him.

Jaemin looks between the cloth and your expression. “Look at what you did,”

“What I did? Your hand was the one that smacked into the glass. You didn’t even try to catch it?” Jaemin ignores your words, waving at your words as if they’re merely pesky flies.

“It’s okay, I can forgive you but you have to compensate in another way,” He smirks at you, before his fingers slowly inch towards your waitress' apron wrapped around your waist, thumbing at the fabric tied around you. “Maybe a pretty girl like you can go out with me?”

You smile sweetly, clasping his hands into yours and rubbing your thumb into the back of his hand. You place it down on the table, your smile not dimming as you shake your head. “You have to pay for that, kind sir,” You nod your head in mock shame and guilt. Jaemin’s smile dims as he looks at the red-stained tablecloth.

“It’s part of the Tao Village policy.”

OKAY the part where jaemin *mocks.. u hehe was completely inspired by @/sunpopz haechan fic called ‘free falling’ !! give that a read bc its soso good

thank you for reading! let me know if you enjoyed it &lt;3

#jaemin x reader #nct jaemin smut #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #nct jaemin x reader #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #jaemin scenarios #jaemin hard hours #jaemin oneshot #nct dream oneshots #na jaemin smut

[sluttywoozi]

Adore You | Chapter 1 | kmg x f!reader

I'd walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~2k | Genre: rom com, fluff, smut, office au

Warnings: power imbalance bc reader is his boss but he’s the one doing the pursuing, personal assistant!mingyu, he’s such a simp, mention of food, suggestive thoughts

Reader Notes: wears a skirt and heels, boss bitch, touch starved, gets nails done, wap, referred to as a woman

Mingyu glances at his watch, noting that it’s near lunch, and shuffles around the papers on his desk wishing he didn’t have bad news to give you. The end date of the project you’re overseeing will have to be delayed again, and he knows you won’t be happy.

You won’t take it out on your team - you understand that things happen - but it means you’ll have to explain to the higher ups why you need another month and talking to them always puts you in a sour mood. 

It’s likely because you and everyone else in this building knows you’re more qualified and better suited to the role than the six old men in that big conference room are, but until one of them retires or dies, you’re stuck where you are. That means Mingyu is stuck where he is too, but he truly would be happy to stay here forever. 

Mingyu has been your personal assistant for six months now. He’s a bit clumsy, and he tends to order the exact same coffee as you so he has an extra just in case, and he once forgot his own strength and knocked so hard on your frosted glass door, it shattered, but he’s still good at lots of things!

He’s attentive, eager, sharp, and he can always anticipate what you need before you even ask for it. He’s a pro at taking care of you, making sure you don’t work yourself too hard and that you drink plenty of water and eat regular meals.

He does everything for you, everything but your job, and ensuring that you’re happy and content and well cared for is one of his greatest strengths. 

Which is why he’s borderline devastated when he overhears you on the phone. Your voice isn’t loud from his desk, but he’s trained his ears to listen for you and listen they do. You’re not talking about him, thank God, but you are talking about the boyfriend you just broke up with.

You were dating him when Mingyu first started, and from the one and only time he met him at the office, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near good enough for you. Apparently, he even turned out to be bad for you, stressing you out and hurting your feelings and, worst of all (to you), he couldn’t make you cum. 

That’s shocking to Mingyu. He’s always been a giver during sex, gaining more pleasure from making someone else feel it rather than taking it for himself, but he knows not all guys are like that. This one didn’t even try, it seems from your complaints, and he can’t believe you lived like that for all these months. 

He doesn’t doubt you’ve cum in the meantime, he knows women masturbate just like men do, but hearing that you’ve been so neglected has his stomach churning.

If it were him, he’d have to loosen you up with two or three orgasms before he could even fit his cock inside you, and if you let him in without a condom, he’d obviously have to clean you up with his mouth after, guaranteeing a grand total of four minimum. 

To think that you’ve been giving yourself to that man and getting nothing in return…

Mingyu doesn’t think he can let that stand. 

So, he comes up with a plan.

Step 1. Show you how well he knows you.

Mingyu starts by rescheduling your non-essential lunch meeting, recognizing in your voice that you need some time to yourself, and orders your favorite from the place down the street. He’ll run out to pick it up in half an hour, leaving him just enough time to break the bad news to you. He hates that he’ll have to put even more of a damper on your day, but it’s better that you know now so you can adjust accordingly. 

He rolls his chair back and stands, reaching his hands up to the ceiling in a stretch before straightening his clothes out and running a palm over his hair to ensure it’s all in place. There’s a piece that always breaks free from the pomade and drives him crazy, but he doesn’t want to use too much and look all greasy. Predictably, the lock falls against his forehead and he rolls his eyes before popping a mint into his mouth and smoothing on some lip balm. 

You hung up with your friend a few minutes ago and he can’t hear you anymore, just his own footsteps on the marble as he walks the six feet to your door and knocks. You call out a low, “Come in,” and he turns the knob as gently as he can. You have a corner office on the fifteenth floor and the view is spectacular, but when he steps foot inside, all he can see is you. Your eyes are rimmed in red, your lashes are clumped together, and your lips are puffy, the smile they stretch in forced and false. 

“What’s up, Mingyu?” You ask, your voice a bit scratchy and your tone overly bright. 

“So… Joshua sent over the project report, and it looks like they’ll need three more weeks.”

He imbues his words with apology, finishing with his eyebrows pushed together and his lip bitten between his teeth. You heave a great sigh, your perfect posture melting as you set your elbows on the wood of your desk and drop your face into your palms. 

“God, can just one thing go right today?”

He shifts on his feet, staying silent as you process what exactly needs to be done. It’s fascinating to watch the thoughts play out on your face, the frustration and urgency and finally, the acceptance. 

“Okay, I’ll have to call Terry and let him know. He won’t be happy but I don’t fucking care,” you turn and stare out the window as you speak, sinking back into your chair and kicking off your heels. “They have their three weeks, and if they need to extend it again, I need to know now. Is there anything else?”

You sound so weary, like if he placed one more burden upon your shoulders, you’d collapse under the weight of it all. If Mingyu could, he’d carry all of your problems for you, hell, he’d carry you, but he can’t so he just squeezes his hands into fists behind his back, his fingers tingling with the desire to reach out to you. 

“Nothing bad,” he promises. “I pushed your 1 PM meeting to tomorrow and I’m picking up your regular from Diane’s. I thought you might want a breather, I hope that’s okay.”

You usually don’t mind changes to your schedule, as long as they’re not last minute additions that keep you here later, but he still worries about doing things without your permission. Your eyes leave the window, your gaze finding him, and he does his best not to shrink under your intense stare. Until tears start to gather on your lashes, that is. 

Then, he rushes to you, his hands hovering over your form, desperate to comfort you but not wanting to cross any boundaries. He speaks all at once, his words flying out so fast, they’re almost unintelligible.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can move it back! I’ll move it back, it’ll be okay,” he soothes, petting the air around you as if that could do anything. 

“No, don’t move it,” you warble, your hands coming up to cover your face. “That’s just so thoughtful of you, Mingyu. That’s exactly what I need, a breather. Can I tell you something personal?”

Mingyu rushes to nod, his eyes wide and his breath stuck in his chest as you wipe away the tears on your cheeks. You glance away from him, your lips tightening and your brows tilting in a frown, “Derek and I broke up last night. I broke up with him, at least, but it still hurts. I mean, I wasted seven months on him, and the most thoughtful thing he ever did was throw an extra beer in the fridge for me every once in a while. I don’t even like beer.”

Defeat is clear in your voice, as is some measure of self-hatred. He doesn’t know what to say, beyond being sure he shouldn’t mention what else Derek wasn’t good at. He could tell you about his own disastrous breakup last year, or how it’s actually easy to do nice things for you, or that he’d be happy to do some very nice things for you, if only you’d ask. 

Instead, he says, “You deserve better,” and clenches his fists again when you just send him a sad smile and nod half-heartedly. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, likely a text letting him know your order is ready for pick up, and he wishes he had a personal assistant of his own to send out so he could stay here with you. But he doesn’t, so he looks down at you from where he stands in front of your desk, longing to bundle you up and put you in his pocket so nothing and no one can ever hurt you again. 

That would be inappropriate, and impossible, and likely something you’re too independent for anyway. 

“I have to go get the food, can I grab you anything while I’m out?” He asks, his voice much softer than his words. 

You shake your head again, “No, thank you, Mingyu. Did you get something for yourself?” 

“No, I brought my lunch today,” he smiles, canines pushing against his bottom lip. 

“I should probably start doing that,” you sigh. “I bet yours is delicious, people still talk about the cake you made for Wonwoo’s birthday.” 

“I could start making a lunch for you, if you want,” Mingyu offers before he can actually think about it, about how intimate and domestic it would feel, packing a lunch for you and knowing you’re eating food he made with his own two hands. 

“Oh no, that’s way out of your pay grade, I couldn’t put you out like that.”

“I insist! Please let me,” he begs, clasping his hands together and bringing them up under his chin as he widens his eyes and pushes out his bottom lip. It takes less than thirty seconds for you to fold, your polite refusal defenseless against his expert pouting skills.  

“Fine!” You throw your hands up. “If you really want, you can make me lunch too. But you have to stop as soon as you don’t want to do it anymore, and that’s an order.”

God, he loves your stern voice. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Mingyu beams triumphantly, rocking back and forth on his heels to contain the excited energy flowing through him. He’s already brainstorming recipes in his head, taking into account your allergies and preferences, and he thinks he’ll have enough ideas to at least last him the month. 

“I’ll be back in twenty with the food,” Mingyu assures you as he backs up to your door, not wanting to take his eyes off you for a single second. You return your attention to your computer but look at him just long enough to smile gently and say, “Thank you, Mingyu. You’re the best.”

That little bit of praise from you makes him float all day. 

All the way through your afternoon meetings, all the way home on the subway, and all the way up to his apartment, where he immediately sits down to start a pinterest board for your daily lunches. He doesn’t even undress, just gets right to work searching for recipes and making pins of ideas he already has. 

He also maybe buys new tupperware and a classy little lunchbox to bring your containers in, and pays extra to have it arrive tonight. 

One can never be too prepared when it comes to seducing one’s boss. 

Next Chapter

Adore You Masterlist

Adore You Taglist

My Masterlist

AN: yayyyyy so excited to post the first part of this lil mini series!! i had this idea around a year and a half ago when i started writing so it's definitely been on my mind for a while and i'm so happy i finally put it to words so i could share it with y'all! i'm just about finished writing it and i'm planning on posting once a week, so it should be fully complete by the end of november!

thank you to @petrichor-mingi for beta reading!

please please please reblog!! likes do nothing to spread my work but reblogs are a really easy way to support me! and if you add your thoughts in too i'll love you forever 💖

#svthub #kvanity #mingyu fanfic #mingyu oneshot #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu x you #kim mingyu fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt fanfic #✨emily writes✨ #svt smut #kpop imagine #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fanfic

[curtsycream]

I apologize if the request makes no sense this is only my second one. You don't have to do this, but I was wondering if you could do a one shot of TF141 x fem!child reader (6 y/o&platonic) where they are on a mission in an abandoned city and they find the reader stuck in one of the buildings with the bodies of her dead parents and no way to escape the building without help. How would they get her out of there? Would Gaz and sope step up to comfort her? How would ghost deal with the child given his past? What would happen after they healed? Would price decide to adopt them as TF141's daughter?

Their Daughter

Platonic!TF141 x Fem!Child Reader

I hope you enjoy this I kind of got carried away, I hope it’s to your liking. Also not proofread I really suck at that sometimes. It makes perfect sense to me don’t worry!

It would be Gaz that finds you first when they’re scoping out the buildings for any signs of life. The second he takes you in he felt sick to his stomach noticing who you were laying between. Gaz would try his best to get you out alone, it isn’t protocol but he tries without thinking. That is until he realizes what he as to do and uses his comms to call over the rest of 141.

I’d like to think that they have a code word for when it involves something as devastating as this. In which Ghost would stick back unless absolutely needed. It’s mostly a precaution just in case seeing the scene triggers his PTSD.

But luckily he doesn’t need to see that unfold as Price and Soap are just as capable of helping. The three men would carefully examine the situation before deciding what to do. It wouldn’t be long before they get you out of there. With Price and Soap raising a few support beams for Gaz to crawl under and pull you free.

When you’re finally free it seems you don’t react to what is happening. Which is normal sometimes there are mental delays when it comes to experiencing something so traumatic.

But even when you’re still in shock Soap speak calmly to you trying to make sure you’re okay. “how’re you, lass?” His gentle voice comforting causing you to lean into it.

When you weren’t in Soap’s arms you would be in Gaz’s both men taking turns. A hint of attachment due to what you seemed to go through. But honestly you weren’t complaining your mind was off of the situation.

At first when Soap explains what happened and why he had to stay back. Ghost would keep his distance from you not because he didn’t like you. But because he didn’t want to break down around you. He didn’t cry often, at least publicly, but he knew he would when looking at someone so young who had already went through so much.

Your injuries from the accident left you in a leg splint with minor bruising on the rest of your body. Luckily they got you out in time as you were close to passing out from a lack of oxygen. The tiny space you were stuck in between your parents was close to falling by the time Gaz found you.

While you healed you would get visited by Gaz and Soap at least two times a day. Price would stop by at night to read you a bedtime story. It was his way of showing he cared about your situation. His care was paternal in nature, he always made sure the doctor was doing his job right. Any time you had the slightest look of discomfort on your face he would address the doctor. “Are you sure you’re doing that right? Can’t you see she’s in pain?” He always meant well of course.

The only person who didn’t visit you was Ghost at least to your knowledge. He would always visit when Price left at times when you would sleep. He never stepped foot in the hospital room only looked through the glass window.

When you were finally released from the hospital you found out quickly that Price meant business. The 6 months you were in the hospital he was working and fighting for custody over you. You had no other living relatives but it was a bit of a struggle since you were from a different country. Though with what seemed like pure luck he was able to adopt you.

While they were deployed you stayed on base in your own room. It was located right beside Price’s which you were okay with.

Ghost didn’t speak to you until one night when he was walking down the hall. He heard the sounds of screams alerting him. He realized they were coming from your bedroom. Something clicked in his mind as he rushed in without hesitation. The sight of you wringing around in bed with tears streaming down your cheeks hurt him emotionally.

Due to his experience with his own nightmares he stepped closer to you. Sitting on your bed he gently woke you up making sure not to startle you. When you were up he allowed you to cling to him as he held you close. The two of you sitting there in the comforting silence. From that night forward Ghost couldn’t see himself straying too far from your aid.

From the second they met you, you were their daughter even if it was only legal on Price’s end. When they were on missions you were in the care of Laswell at times. The station chief didn’t mind she liked spending time with you.

When they weren’t on missions and had time to go back home they made a change. It only made since to be nearby so that you could actively see Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. They may have decided to invest in a house big enough for all five of you. These men are passionate about those they love and you’re like are a daughter to them.

During there time off they don’t waste a second giving you any and everything you want. From movie nights to family game nights.

As you get older and start school they make sure it’s somewhere close to where they can travel between the base and home. You’re a military kid, but don’t worry you don’t change schools often.

You tend to go to Soap for stress relief as he knows how to cheer you up with ease. Ghost is someone you go to when it comes to your nightmares and worries as he makes sure to give you the best advice. Sometimes the best advice is none in his opinion though. Gaz is who you stick to a lot for comfort he gives the best hugs and cuddles. While Price is the one you look to for protection, not that you don’t with all of them, it’s just he’s your central father figure.

You never have much to worry about with them behind you.

#x reader #fluff #tf141 #tf 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #child!reader #fluffy headcanons #platonic!tf141

[sourle]

This is the anon with the LBD request. I copy pasted the plot again, just in case.

I was wondering if you could have the Fem S/O of MK, Red Son, Monkey King, and Macaque who gets possessed by LBD instead of that girl. Like one day after seeing their S/O, they suddenly disappear for hours, then days, then weeks, and they're now going on a desperate attempt to find them only to discover they've been possessed by LBD, and they're in desperate attempt to get them back leading up to their S/O being freed, and the aftermath of defeating LBD.

I'm sorry it took me a while to complete those because i was having small writer blocks. I'm sorry but i couldn't really do specific gender.

MK, Red son, Sun Wukong, Macaque.

Type: Angst

Summary:

The reader got possessed By LBD. How would the Monkeys and Red son react?

MK

He was.. sad, mad, and devastated at the same time. You, his insignificant other that he dearly loved, was taken from him and used against him.

He won't do a harder attack which gave LBD an advantage on her side since MK doesn't want to hurt you.

He would always plead and beg for you to snap out of LBD possession and come back.

C'mon man he's desperate, you're the only one he truly loves and he doesn't want you to go.

He loves you because you doesn't fuss about popularity just on dating someone who's under Monkey king wings. You love him because of him. And that's what he loves about you.

Yet now all he saw was you standing there looking down at him laughing, he knew it's not you. He knew but he seems to always think it was you.

He's upset, the others tried to hold him back. Screaming and crying as he tried to get you back.

Red son

Of all people.. of ALL people, it had to be you. He's in denial. He doesn't want to believe you're gone, he doesn't want to believe what is the truth.

He lost his parents in this chaos and destruction and now you?

He's in grief after accepting that you've been possessed, but not long. He'll go and promise to save you and his parents.

He'll try everything to get you back, even by helping MK and his friends. It's only a last desperate attempt to get you back.

He knows you're still there, he knows he's the one that's gonna get you back. It's only by time, and patience is the key.

He'll get you back no matter the cause and what he has to do, he'll get you back.

He promised and he'll fulfill that promise.

Sun wukong

Pain, pain all over. This man has hatred towards LBD now double it.

The moment he sees you he knows something was wrong. Trying to trick Him isn't that easy LBD.

You know that moment when he was in guilt for his actions? Yeah, now add you his guilt got the best of him even further.

He's going head on. On that one scene where he's about to get rid of LBD and the girl, he's definitely having second thoughts. It's you now in that girl possession.

Don't know but knowing this man, he's doing whatever he can to stop the evil. No not for civilization, not for the people. But for his own entertainment.

So 8/10 he will definitely sacrifice you to stop LBD.

Well until the table turns. You know what I meant.

Macaque

He's speechless, he doesn't know how to react or feel. Out of all LBD had to take you away from him.

At first it was his sworn brothers now you?

He couldn't take another loss and that's a snapping point for him, he'll stop at nothing, obeying every command LBD gave as she promised to free you when it's all done.

He's more aggressive than before— and more dangerous. Which is bad for Mk and his crew.

Overall, he's definitely going through 5 phases of grief before getting revenge on helping MK, but it will take him a lot to convince.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk x reader #mei #mk #lemon writes #sun wukong #macaque #red son #lmk mk #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk redson #x reader #mk x reader #sun wukong x reader #red son x reader #macaque x reader

[xjulixred45x]

I was watching Coraline and out of nowhere this idea came to me...

Platonic yandere! Kenjaku for Geto's child.

like, Geto had a child with Reader (anyone) and everything was happiness in a certain way, Geto and Reader loved and cared a lot about their baby, and the family loved them, they taught them the "proper" way of seeing the world, everything was fine until the events of the JJK0 Movie. Geto dies, Reader may even suffer the same fate.

and poor (child's name) is devastated, but they is taken care of by Mimiko and Nanako (their dear older sisters) and everything goes WELL, not great, but good.

but then Kenjaku possesses Geto's body. Consequently, he finds out about the existence of (child name), and since the child could inherit Geto's cursed ritual, he decides to see if this is the case to see if it is worth it.

What he didn't expect was to start to care in some way about the child, maybe it was because of Geto's body, but he definitely started to have some interest in the child apart from their possible usefulness.

stalking them became a normal ritual for him, in a way taking note of certain "important aspects" that he said would help him if the child came under his wing (which was really just making sure the child ate well or if they was physically healthy), things they were allergic to, he even searched Geto's memory for things they liked and didn't like, all to have a profile of the child.

So, when Mimiko and Nanako appear to him, he KNOWS that (child's name) is nearby, and decides to take the chance. He disappears in front of them and they quickly realize what he was trying to do and go to look for (child's name). but when they find them, they are running straight to their ""father"" and Kenjaku says goodbye to the twins with his shit-eating smile.

The girls yell at (child's name) something, but they're is so happy and glad that somehow their father is alive after a year of anguish, but then they realizes something, the way he hugs them, how he refers to them, and when they look at him and see THAT scar...they realize that they made a big mistake.

that THING is not their father....

Kenjaku is still smiling, but he is in "character" and asks them if they are not happy, but they turn away (or try to) and say the OBVIOUS...he is not their father.

Now, what does this have to do with Coraline? well, precisely the scene in which the other mother transforms for the first time.

Something similar would happen with (child's name) and Kenjaku, who continues to treat them as if they were father and child, introduces them as such to Mahito, Jogo, Hanami and Choso, talks to them like Geto used to do, makes them participate in the games he has with his colleagues, etc.

and (child's name) IS FED UP. Fed up with this man-thing holding them against their will, using the body of their ACTUAL FATHER, ripping them away from the twins and the Family that REALLY loved them, and they feels this is a twisted game for Kenjaku.

So he goes and tells him exactly that, that they are FED UP OF HIM, that they want HIM TO LET THEM LET GO, THAT THEY WANT TO RETURN TO THE TWINS AND THEIR REAL FAMILY.

Now, even after everything, they were never "mean" to Kenjaku, mostly out of fear and uncertainty of the situation, so Kenjaku is a little shocked by this change of attitude, but he's definitely a little irritated that make HIM look like the bad guy when it was THEY who ran into his arms (manipulation there, eh, manipulation).

So he gets more serious, and tells (child's name) that "That's no way to talk to your FATHER."

And (child's name) is like "YOU'RE. NOT...MY. FATHER"

(Mahito, Jogo and Hanami look like a surprised pikachu)

AND KENJAKU "APOLOGIZE....AT ONCE...(Child's name)"

"NO"

Kenjaku is losing his patience, and although he loves (child's name) very much (something like that) he stops, stands in front of them and gives them one LAST CHANCE to apologize for their lack of respect.

"I'm going to give you up to the count of THREE"

"ONE..."

"...TWO..."

"....THREE-"

and using his Curse Manipulation, he throws (Child name) a bunch of small curses that while "harmless" are definitely terrifying. The poor child is screaming and crying in horror and Kenjaku leaves them like that for a while so that they can "learn to be a good child"

and when he decides they have had enough, he destroys the curses that tormented them and returns to his normal patient self. When (child's name) goes to him, all scartched, they lets out an almost inaudible "I'm sorry" and Kenjaku just gives them a Headpat and tells them that "we all tend to have bad mood days" and gives them a cookie.

(bastard).

(I also imagine he uses gravity manipulation to make (child's name) go directly to him, or force them to come and give him a hug.)

I imagine that Mimiko and Nanako are constantly not only trying to kill Kenjaku, but also to find out where he is holding (child's name) captive and save them (let's pretend they don't die, please) along with the family.

I think they would only have a chance in the Shibuya arc, when the twins go to claim him for Geto's body, they also claim him for (Child's name), but obviously Kenjaku doesn't comply with either of them.

but fortunately since Dagon is killed, (Child's name) manages to get out to the outside world, asking for help from whoever, that is, Nanami, Maki and Naobito... until Jogo roasts them and tries to grab them.

(Child's name) runs away, but Jogo is hot on their heels, fortunately they manages to run into the twins and SUKUNA (they is not so lucky, the Twins survive! With horrible scars that Sukuna left, but survive).

While Jogo and Sukuna fight, the Twins take (Child's name) away, happy to see them safe and sound again.

although of course, when Kenjaku realizes it, he won't be happy at all.....

(^his live reaction when he found out that (Child's name) run away)

NEXT PART

#drabble #jujutsu kaisen kenjaku #kenjaku #yandere platonic #yandere kenjaku #mimiko and nanako #mimiko hasaba #nanako hasaba #jjk x y/n #platonic yandere #platonic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu no kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen geto #jjk spoilers #spoilers #neutral reader #platonic yandere kenjaku

[clavissionary-position]

(Summary) Gilbert's Beast Manual Case 2: How to Get Gilbert to Take His Meds

Part 2 of Gilbert's current party event, wherein Emma tries to sneak his meds into his food.

Spoilers. Technically a summary-translation hybrid where everything should probs be in quotes. I read using a translator. Some parts omitted. Case 1 | Case 3 | His POV

Gilbert and Emma are having lunch together in his lab. The menu today, graciously brought over from the dining hall by Roderic, consists of processed meat flavored with leafy greens, ham and potato soup and some bread; the kind of meal that any household could easily make. Gone are the days where the royal family had a separate menu. This is the same kind of food that everyone in the castle eats regardless of status, and so of course Gilbert, who advocates for equality, eats it up with gusto as per usual.

At this point, Emma's been pointedly staring at Gilbert eat. When he brings this up, Emma says that she's simply captivated by him. Which prompts Gilbert to consider staring pointedly back at her. Emma responds that she wouldn't be able to calmly continue eating, but Gilbert teasingly laughs it off because he certainly wouldn't mind. True to his word, he proceeds to take her into his red gaze. True to her word, Emma's unable to just casually keep eating.

Stuttering over herself, Emma decides to bring up the matter of dessert. It's different today. Not the usual cookies Emma bakes for him. Deciding those had gotten a bit dull, she's prepared pound cake for him today. With bits of dried fruit for a mouthfeel she figured he might enjoy. Gilbert's face lights up and he thanks her with a giggle while Emma does her best to keep calm and not give her shaking nerves away. The food she's busily putting into her mouth is delicious, but she's too nervous to enjoy it.

Here Gilbert decides to introduce a bit of an anecdote to Emma as idle chatter. What will, in true Gilbert-fashion, turn out to be a parable. Before Emma came along, Gilbert would take his lunches with Roderic and Walter. Not that he wanted to, and they themselves ventured forth looking like they were ready for certain death. So Gilbert asks Emma why she thinks that might have been, and she innocently asks if it was so they could deepen their bonds of friendship. But Gilbert succinctly clarifies that it was so they could keep an eye on him and ensure he didn't leave any food behind.

Hearing this, Emma seems quite naturally surprised. Gilbert's a glutton who generally eats up most his food after all. At this, Gilbert explains that the only food he leaves behind is anything that's been poisoned. However, he says with his world-class pout, whenever he had lunch with Roderic and Walter, the food would taste weird for some reason. He was told it was okay to eat because it definitely wasn't poisoned, and yet poor Gilbert had to suffer that awful taste. So terrible, he says with his world-class smile, that he contemplated sending those two to the gallows; there was a high chance something sus had indeed been mixed in.

Emma stares at Gilbert in silence. Gilbert merely asks: "You won't betray me, will you, little rabbit?" Emma stutters for a thousand years as she adamantly claims that of course she never could XD And Gilbert agrees, because if she ever did, he'd be so devastated he might just start drawing up a military operation. Emma mentally digests the enormity of that adorable threat while Gilbert casually turns his attention the cake in question. Due to her nerves, Emma's failed to notice that Gilbert's already finished his meal.

As Gilbert reaches for the pound cake, he stops to mention a footnote to his story. Figuring the weird-tasting food business meant he hadn't been disciplining Roderic and Walter enough, he decided to go ahead and do just that. Gilbert's not received any weird-tasting food since. He punctuates that with a giggle.

Emma stares at Gilbert in silence. Placing the plated cake in her hand, Gilbert gently implores her to feed him since she made it so special for him. Then, like the goober that he is, he sits back all happy and opens his mouth with a cute ah~

Emma holds the fork as firmly as she can given her circumstances and pierces the cake. In truth, she feels confident about the cake's taste, but she's having some serious qualms about tricking Gilbert like this. She suddenly throws out a fierce apology, but Gilbert, not dropping his smile for a moment, swoops in and eats the cake on the fork in one bite before she can do anything.

While Emma panics and sees discipline looming on her horizon, Gilbert begins to pout while he chews. This too gives Emma pause as she prompts him to spit it out if it tastes funky. But Gilbert's smiling again and he says it's fine. He might actually be able to handle this. There's definitely a dicey quality to the taste, but he might be willing to try eating it for her.

Emma finally relaxes. Her repeated trial-and-error has seemingly been worth it. She'd put the dish together at Walter's behest in order to get Gilbert to take his meds. Walter's medicine is extremely effective but the taste is "devastating," so they needed a new plan to make it palatable for Gilbert.

Just as Emma furtively declares "Operation Pound Cake" a success, Gilbert casually shatters her adorable hopes: "A betrayal is a betrayal, right?" He gets up from his seat and places a hand on her back. Her mouth tightens at the immediate, peremptory pressure. Did I know what peremptory meant before this? Nope, but it's very Gilbert.

He says her name, by which I mean he says Little Rabbit, and his breath gusts against Emma's ear and sends her heart into overdrive for different reasons now. "My punishments are... rather long."

Emma, thoroughly repentant, promises to never Operation-Pound-Cake again and think of a different method. But Gilbert only chuckles and calls her foolish before biting her ear and making Emma make lewd Emma-noises. As she hurriedly cups her mouth, Gilbert proceeds to gently kiss the spot of the ouchie. And he brings up a good point: he generally listens to her requests if she simply voices them.

Emma herself admits that Gilbert carefully takes his meds whenever she asks him to. But that was never what this was about. "You hate the bitter taste, don't you?" she asks him. And that's why she intends to do her best and continue to do trial-and-error testing until the weird taste goes away. All because she wants to reduce the amount of things he doesn't like, even if it's just by one.

"Therefore I shouldn't discipline you?" Gilbert is quick to ask. Emma falls into silence as he tilts his head and says, "Now that I've got a good excuse to pick on you, there's no way I'm going to just stop." Before Emma can protest, he slips a cold hand down her collar in one fluid motion and begins caressing her skin. As Emma braces for what's to come, she realizes that resistance is futile at this point and that she's got no choice but take her punishment.

Emma feels Gilbert blow into her ear just as she shuts her eyes. "Thank you, Emma." At a loss for words, she opens her eyes and catches sight of the brightest, happiest smile she's seen all day.

#ikemen prince #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri jp spoilers #ikepri translation folder

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Fukuzawa's (Bungou Stray Dogs) daughter getting annoyed by sons of wealthy families everywhere she goes but is always saved by her ability (to control a flock of birds) or her father?

It was a fairly nice day out, now that the weather was starting to turn. Coming out of the cold gloom of winter and into the bright, but still brisk, light of spring.

“Shouldn’t we head back to the office?” Atsushi asked as he and his partner walked around the city streets. Working on a new case but their ‘investigation’ had ended some time ago. Not long after their second coffee stop.

“Ahhh….what’s the rush? Enjoy the fresh air Atsushi-kun.” Dazai remarked back. Filling his lungs as he spoke.

“I just feel bad leaving everyone else back at the office.” Leaving everyone to work that is. “Hey, is that Fukuzawa-san?”

“Well, what do you know. It is. Boss!” The older man turned to look at Dazai at his call. Greeting his subordinates as they came closer. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m waiting to have lunch with my daughter.”

Atsushi was surprised. Daughter? “Oh, [Y/N]-chan is in town?” Apparently, everyone knew the boss had a daughter but him.

Fukuzawa-san goes on to tell Atsushi that she was studying at university aboard, which was why he had never met her. There seemed to be a concerned look on his face when they talked about her being back in town, which was understandable with everything going on. Or maybe it was just his normal, serious expression.

The men continue to chat for a while before Fukuzawa-san perked up and looked over across the courtyard. As if sensing his daughter’s presence the moment she stepped into the park.

Atsushi had to admit, she was very beautiful. She didn’t look much like Fukuzawa-san, so he had to assume that she took after her mother. [Y/N] hadn’t seem to notice them yet as she walked across the park, presumably to this destination agreed upon by her & her father, when a man stepped in front of her path. He was talking to her rather animatedly and when she tried to step around him, he blocked her path again.

“Should we go and do something?” Atsushi asked. Concerned for her safety.

“No. She doesn’t need help.” Fukuzawa-san assured him.

“Yeah,” Dazai agrees. “She’s got enough back up as it is.”

Atsushi was confused by that comment. Then, suddenly, a crow came down out of nowhere and beamed the man. Clipping him in the back of the head like it was nothing. It was an odd coincidence, but then another bird came down and started pecking him. Then another. Then another.

Eventually the man had to take off running to try and escape the birds. Who chased after him regardless of his pace and [Y/N] kept walking. “Hello Daddy.”

“Hello princess.” Fukuzawa-san greeted back. Leaning in to kiss her forehead before he stood at his normal height again.

“What was with those birds?” Atsushi asked, and [Y/N] grinned at him.

“To Kill a Mockingbird.” She told him. “It’s my ability to control & communicate with birds. Not as interesting as being able to turn into a tiger, but it suits me.”

“You know about my ability?” Atsushi asked curiously.

To which [Y/N] chuckled. “Of course. Dad keeps me up to date on everything to do with the Agency. You and Dazai are often topics of conversation.”

“Glowing reviews I hope?”

“More like headaches.” She replied to Dazai’s comment.

“Are you ready to go?” Fukuzawa asked. Changing the topic.

“That depends. Are Dazai and Atsushi joining us?”

“They won’t be joining us.” Fukuzawa-san replied quickly, before the boys could invite themselves along. He didn’t get much time with his daughter and wanted to spend time with her alone. “I’ll see you two back at the Agency.”

“Roger that sir.” Dazai remarked. Giving a little salute. “Maybe [Y/N]-chan can come by after your lunch and say hi to the others. I’m sure Kunikida-kun would be devastated if he missed you.”

[Y/N] glared at Dazai behind her father’s shoulder. A warning look in her eyes as he gave her a cheeky smile. “Would you have time for that, or do you need to meet up with friends?”

“I think I can make time for that.” [Y/N] replied, back to her sweet smile in the face of her father, before they link arms and head to lunch.

Just as they were out of ear shot, another bird came down and started pecking violently at Dazai. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ok! Ok! It was just a joke! Knock it off [Y/N]-chan! Ow!”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #fukuzawa yukichi #bsd fukuzawa #bungou stray dogs fukuzawa #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs scenarios #bungou stray dogs imagine #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines #scenarios #imagine

[pennyblossom-meta]

Gale/Wyll banter

Here's a collection of Gale/Wyll banter that I found in the dialogue files. I hope this is useful as both fanfiction resources and general curiosity :)

Help: I'm fairly sure there's a line from Wyll (?) mentioning how Gale doesn't ever eat vegetables, but for the life of me I can't find it. UPDATE 30/12/2023: Found it and added it to the post, the banter happens with the MC during the tiefling party. Also added a couple more interesting tidbits of dialogue.

Warning: long post.

Act 01

Loss of powers

Wyll points out that he used to kill big monsters, and now a few goblins are a challenge. What gives? Gale remarks it must be the tadpole. Wyll: Was a time I tussled with hill giants without breaking a sweat. Wyll: Now, a mere werebear could swat me halfway to Amn. devnote: Amn = city on the Sword Coast. Pronounced "AAHM" like UK Eng "arm". Gale: Strange things are happening to us. What festers in our minds may well impel our bodies.

—

Netherese magic

Wyll recalls the hag said 'Netherese' and asks Gale what he knows. Astarion adds a thought if he is present. Wyll: Ethel mentioned Netherese magic. What in blazes does that mean? Gale: Magic from the fallen empire of Netheril. Ancient, exceedingly dangerous, and quite unrivalled. Astarion: Wonderful! I'd hate to be destroyed by any common old magic. devnote: A little sarcastic. You've been told the dangerous magic inside you is ancient and unrivalled

—

Goblin raids

Wyll: I've known goblin raiders to slaughter entire villages and strip them for loot - but I've never seen one ravaged like this. Gale: It's hard to imagine anyone who'd willingly inflict such devastation, be they zealots, marauders, invading armies... A sign of far worse to come, I fear.

—

Act 02

Mountain Pass

Gale: These cragged hillls make for weary soles. I see why most headed inland prefer the smooth sailing of the Chionthar. Wyll: More importantly, the land west of here suffers under a terrible curse. Gale: You've seen it for yourself? Wyll: I've glimpsed that doom during my travels, but never dared get close. Wyll: If we continue this way, we may get too close for comfort.

—

Scary woods

Wyll: What a dismal forest. Monsters could be lurking behind any and every tree. Gale: We'd be wise to fear the trees themselves. It feels like the forest itself longs for our destruction. devnote: serious Wyll: Frustrating, that. Wyll: Monsters, I can fight. But I can no more sever these shadows than I could the wind or the sun.

—

Approaching Moonrise

Gale: Moonrise Towers lies ahead. We're nearing the Heart of the Absolute, I'm certain of it. Wyll: Then let us push forward, heads high, weapons in hand, and turn this tower to rubble. Gale: Your confidence is encouraging but a little premature. Let's keep our eyes on the task ahead. Or eye, as the case may be.

—

Tollhouse

Gale: A tollhouse like this would only be merited in the most prosperous of settlements. This was once a thriving trade route. Wyll: Should it be any wonder? The Chionthar's waters carry merchant vessels from as far east as Berdusk. devnote: bur-DUSK Wyll: And they wouldn't have brought just trade goods, but song, dance, and custom. Riches of the mind and the spirit. Wyll: So much was lost when the darkness fell.

—

At the Mason's Guild

Gale: The masons here thought they were building something to last. How wrong they were. Wyll: Perhaps it's a blessing that none of them survived to see it fall to the shadows. Gale: No need for such a grim assumption. Halsin helped many to escape these shadows before the town was consumed. Wyll: Then some masons were more blessed still, if they could put their talents to use elsewhere. Wyll: Perhaps some of their work even graces Baldur's Gate.

—

Guildhall

Wyll: It might seem a bit ramshackle, but this place has a boastworthy bar. Gale: A bar is only as good as its cellars. Which vintages can we expect to find on their racks? devnote: Anticipating a nice drink Wyll: Here, a bottle is judged more by its ability to crack heads than the quality of its contents. Gale: Ah. If that's the main criteria then I shall reset my expectations accordingly. Water it is. devnote: Good humoured

—

House of Healing

Wyll: This was a hospital? Feels more like a prison. Gale: A common enough interpretation. Sickness has a nasty habit of making you feel trapped, if only within the confines of your own body. Gale: I once spent weeks convalescing in the Hospice of St Laupsenn (*) after a nasty bout of ruddy pox. For all their kindness, leaving that place behind felt like freedom to me. Wyll: I've always relied on the kindness of the healers and menders of the Coast. Better a cleric's healing touch than a chirurgeon's scalpel.

(Lore note*): The Hospice of St. Laupsenn is a temple of Ilmater in the North Ward of Waterdeep.

—

Moonrise General_AssaultState

Wyll: This is it, Gale - today, we annihilate the heart of the Absolute's power. The bards will sing of our victory here. Gale: Entirely unnecessary. Though if they are so inclined, I might be convinced to share a stanza or two of my own for inspiration. devnote: Feigned modesty

—

Moonrise General

Wyll: This is no aimless horde - the Absolute's forces are organised. What do you make of it, Gale? Gale: All enemies have some chink in their armour, no matter how much they like to believe themselves invulnerable. That's what we must find. devnote: Cheery/determined Wyll: And if we don't find any clear weakness? Gale: Then we hope our mutual strengths are enough to dominate them. Or, we die nobly in the attempt. devnote: Cheery/determined

—

Moonrise Prison

Gale: Not a devil in sight. How disappointing. COL_MizorasRescue_State_SavedMizora = False, TWN_Wyll_State_MizorasCaptureHappened, MOO_MizorasRescue_Event_WalkedAway = False Wyll: I doubt a few iron bars are sufficient to hold one of Zariel's. Gale: True enough. But an illithid pod? That would probably do the trick. devnote: Cogs whirring Wyll: I wager you're right. Ah, Gale - what a pleasure to see a genius' mind at work.

Wyll: Of course Mizora was Zariel's captured asset. How did I not see it coming? TWN_Wyll_State_MizorasCaptureHappened Gale: It's in a devil's nature to conceal the truth - you can't fault yourself for that. Wyll: I've been pacted for seven years on, Gale. I should be able to read between Mizora's lines by now, no matter how narrow the gap.

Gale: How long have you been pacted to Mizora, Wyll? Wyll: Seven years. Seven years of hunting the monsters of the Sword Coast - and seven years of Mizora's tight leash. Wyll: And seven years of wondering if I'd ever rid myself of her - or if I even should.

—

Act 03

At the Basilisk Gate

Gale: The history of the city itself is captured in the archives here - a fascinating resource. Wyll: I wonder what those archives will reveal about us a hundred years hence. Gale: Only the most excellent and complimentary things. With some encouragement from us, of course.

—

Morphic Pool

Gale: Whatever the outcome of what's just ahead, it will be the stuff of legends. Wyll: In that case, someone needs to survive to tell the story. Gale: My money's on you, Wyll. Wyll: I'm betting on all of us.

—

Misc banter

Gale's ticking time bombs

Wyll points out that Gale has two ticking time-bombs inside him - but he's holding together pretty well. Wyll: I admire your courage, Gale. Gale: Thank you. Any particular reason? Wyll: Between the orb and the bug, you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. Gale: What can I say? Mother always taught me to be a gracious host.

—

Wyll thinks Gale has potential

Wyll tells Gale he's got potential, and suggests he rename himself something more... heroic. Gale finds Wyll quite the tryhard. Wyll: You're an impressive fighter, Gale. You should consider a new name. Gale: I take it you have some suggestions? Wyll: 'The Wizard Wonder!' Or how about, 'The Master of the Weave'? Gale: Tempting. But I think we might already have the maximum number of theatrical titles.

—

With Laz'el and Wyll

Lae'zel notes that Gale knows a lot about mind flayers. He responds with information about his training. If there, Wyll chimes in as well. Lae'zel: You strike me cleverer than most istiki, Gale. Multiple tutors, I should guess. devnote: istiki - non-gith. IH-stick-ee Gale: Many a wise man and woman indeed. Waterdeep is the home of myriad scholars. Wyll: Ah, the City of Splendours. Spent a whole Fleetswake there with my father. What a delight.

—

Romance

The following dialogues are marked as ROM, which I assume is a flag for triggering when there's an active Romance with the MC.

Romance banter, Act 1

Gale: If your natural charm isn't quite up to scratch, Wyll, there are magical means of adding a little flourish of charisma. Wyll: A kind offer, but I think I'd rather pursue things the old fashioned way.

Gale: Have you noticed any attachments of the more, erm, romantic variety flourishing in our camp, Wyll? devnote: Fishing for info, a bit awkward. Wyll: I think I'm not the right person to be asking. Wyll: I can recognise a troll's silhouette on a far horizon, but I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

—

Romance banter, Act 2

Gale: I knew you were a graceful man, Wyll, but I hear you're quite the dancer too. Gale: I've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. Mine was a popular hand at the annual Blackstaff's Ball. Wyll: I'd have love to have witnessed it, Gale. I wager you are as elegant on the dance floor as you are on the battlefield.

Gale: I've heard that in Baldur's Gate, 'wizard' is also a term used for one who eschews their more, ahem, carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll? devnote: Fishing for info, a bit annoyed about what he's heard Wyll: Where are we going with this, Gale? Gale: Oh, nowhere. I just think it a rather cruel misnomer. Not at all reflective of the glamour wizarding life affords. devnote: A bit sulky/sensitive about it

—

Romance banter, Act 3

Wyll: I'm probably going to regret this, but Gale - if I'm to be wed, would you like to make a speech? Gale: You've asked the right wizard. My oratory skills have left many a wedding guest weeping in their seat. devnote: Honoured/very excited at the prospect of speaking at length. Oblivious as to why his previous listeners might have been left weeping… Wyll: Promise it will last less than half an hour? Gale: I can promise it will feel like less than half an hour... devnote: Trying to avoid committing to a short speech

Wyll: I used to believe the beauty of first love was unable to be surpassed. Wyll: But Gale - you are so much more tolerable now you've found your second. Gale: I'll take that comment with the sincerity and good will I assume it was intended. devnote: Not rising to it, cheerful

—

Misc quotes

Tiefling party

Gale: Wyll's a good man. He may actually be a tried-and-true storybook hero. Gale: Then again he's so full of himself it's a small miracle he hasn't resorted to self-cannibalism yet.

Wyll: You're running away from Gale's cooking. Wyll: It's delicious, don't get me wrong, but that man wouldn't eat a vegetable unless Mystra herself commanded it.

Other

Gale: So, you didn't fancy sharpening up the old moniker? I'd have thought the 'Blade of Frontiers' might be feeling a bit dull after all you've been through.

Player: Sounds heavenly. Mind if I join you? Wyll: Not at all. You hunt the deer, I'll scrounge up the ale. Prepare your belly for roast a la Ravengard! Wyll: Let's hope Gale doesn't take offence if I assume cooking duties, just the once.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion ancunin #astarion #lae'zel #baldur's gate wyll #bg3 meta #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale

[homemadehaunting]

From the river to the sea

hey all! firstgrave here

I was somewhat recently banned on tumblr for “targeted harassment”. the post that got me banned? a post in which I said Israeli settlers and former IDF soldiers had actively engaged in ethnic cleansing and genocide. 

I attempted to appeal the ban but have gotten nowhere, and I do see this as the final reason in why I should stay away from tumblr as a whole. I am no longer interested in coming back to tumblr, and will be making no future efforts to do so.

however, some important updates I want to give: many people whom I was mutuals with were there for my entire law school journey, the passing of the bar, and my entrance into the career of public defender. this is something I’ve been dreaming of and working towards for years now. 

in october, the union which represents the office of public defenders I work with, and the majority of public defenders in NY entirely, proposed a resolution on the genocide in Palestine, reinforcing the rights of union members to speak out against apartheid and ethnic cleansing and calling for an end to Israeli occupation. in response, four Zionist members of the union have commenced a lawsuit in attempt to get an injunction against the union members voting on the resolution. the union has now filed a motion to move the case to federal court, thus removing it from the jurisdiction of conservative Long Island state court judges, but also to have the action deemed as an unconstitutional infringement on free speech. 

since the lawsuit was filed, a supervisor at my office has cursed out myself and the 8 new attorneys I was hired with, telling us to “get the fuck” out of her office if we don’t support Israel, and we do not deserve to work there if we do not agree with her. so now we are also in the process of filing a union grievance and EOC claim against the supervisor. this has put us at significant odds against management and we may very well lose our jobs over this (we are at-will employees for the first 3 years of our contract, so while discriminatory firings are illegal, it would be near impossible to prove in this instance.) I am likely to lose my dream job that I have worked years to reach over this. 

The attempts to silence any and all people who speak out against the atrocities being committed with our tax funding cannot be ignored. When we look back at the atrocities of history and wonder how they were allowed to occur, it is because many people feel more comfortable turning a blind eye to the suffering of those “other” to them, and those that do care are faced with coordinated censorship campaigns armed with threats of loss of employment, homelessness, incarceration, violence, and even death. 

In the time all of this has occurred, thousands of men, women, and children have been senselessly and brutally massacred by Israeli forces, aided by other world powers. The US is actively and happily funding the genocide of Palestinians, as well as Britain, Canada, and other imperial nations. Babies have been abandoned and denied humanitarian aid, cities have been leveled, and families have been devastated. 

Attached here is the proposed resolution of the legal aid union. I stand by it wholeheartedly, and ask others to share it as well. There is no excuse for silence or complacency in the face of genocide. Those who are not in Palestine, have not witnessed and experienced the horrors in which every Palestinian citizen has been forced to endure, do not get the benefit of turning a blind eye. 

May we see a free Palestine in our lifetimes. 

#palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

[kittyuna]

when it rains

furina x reader

word count 1.7k

read me!!: no gender language used for reader !! anxious furina, ptsd furina, anxiety attack, reader comforts furina, happy ending

yuna’s thoughts: idk if ppl really wanna see furina but pls she so cute i just wanna nom her up ☹️ this is based off of her “when it rains” voice line! please enjoy! and always, if you like, feel free to leave an ask for something you’d like me to write!

For Furina, love wasn’t the first thing on her mind when she was relinquished from her duties. Though, her plans for a quiet life were quickly pushed aside by the traveler and their companion. So, she figured she might as well expand her relationships— platonically or not.

After the people of Poisson went through a devastating and preventable tragedy, Furina dealt with immense guilt and anxiety. There were always troubling voices in her head, she never stopped thinking. Her mind was so loud and she just wanted it to stop.

The day she met you, her mind went quiet. Horrific thoughts became less frequent and she was able to gain the strength to acknowledge and help in areas she should have before.

You truly saved her. Saved her from a lifetime of self destruction and anxious tendencies. She cherished your presence, your time, your love for her. “I promise, I’ll love you the best I can. It’s the only way I can even begin to repay you.”

Happiness was prevailing in your relationship, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t the bad moments. Especially when it rained.

You made a habit to check the forecast every night before bed and once in the morning. After Furina had revealed the rain to cause her to spiral, you wanted to make sure she was as comfortable as possible when it did.

Looking down at your phone, a frown fell upon your face. ‘Thunderstorms forecasted to begin shortly. Stay indoors and prepare in case of possible power outages.’ Shutting off the phone, you walked out of the bedroom, ready to prepare the house for the rain.

You spotted Furina in the kitchen. She hummed a soft tune to herself while brewing a cup of tea. Quietly, you walked into the living room, shutting all the curtains. You didn’t want her to see the sky darken, she knew that meant rain.

Pulling the last curtain shut made you realize how dark the lack of sunlight made the room. You walked over to a standing lamp and pulled the string, watching the light illuminate the room. With a content nod, you made your way into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Furina!” You called out sweetly. Her head quickly snapped to you, a delighted expression on her face. “Good morning, my love! Did you sleep well? I’m preparing some tea, if you’d like some.”

As you walked up to her, she turned around, looking back at the brewing tea. You wrapped your arms around her from behind, placing your head in the crook of her neck. “Tea sounds nice. Would you like me to reheat the pastries we brought yesterday?”

“What a splendid idea!” Furina’s hand found their way to yours, holding them as you continued to hug her. “They should be on the top shelf of the fridge.” Following her instructions, you let go of her to walk towards the fridge, which pulled a small disapproving hum for her as your touch faded.

Opening the fridge, you grabbed the box of pastries and placed them on the counter. “I was already going to do it…” Furina began, her tone laced with obviousness. “But I didn’t want to ruin them by making it too squishy,” the end of her sentence sad.

“You do it best! So I’ll take that one and that one!” She smiled at you before grabbing her cup of tea and walking to the living room. You laughed to yourself slightly before placing the pastries she requested in the air fryer. After setting the temperature and time, you followed her into the living room, watching her pick a movie on the tv.

“What are you thinking of watching?” Your arms leaned against the back of the sofa, intently watching her scroll through. “Well..” she leaned her head back to look at you. “I watched a beautifully made romantic comedy yesterday so I want to contrast that. Perhaps a murder mystery?”

You nodded at her answer, eyes trying to peak through a crack in the curtain, seeing if the rain had started yet. Furina’s eyes furrowed when she noticed you weren’t looking at her. “Hey..” she grabbed your chin, tilting it to look at her. “What’s outside that’s more interesting than moi?”

“Oh, nothing.” A reassuring smile grazed itself on your face before you leaned down more, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “May I be free now? Your pastries won’t serve themselves.” Instantly, she let go of your chin. “Yes, my love! Thank you again.” You nodded at the true sincerity of her words before walking back to the kitchen.

Opening the air fryer, you quickly grabbed the pastries and plopped them on the plate. “Should’ve used a mit,” you muttered to yourself, shaking your hand to distract it from the pain. Just as you picked up your tea and the pastry plate, you heard a loud thud come from the living room.

After sloppily placing down the cup and plate, you rushed into the living room. Your eyes first landed on the couch, seeing Furina wasn’t there. You noticed the curtain was pushed open slightly, the sight of the downpour and occasional lightning filled the room.

Walking further into the room, you found Furina on the floor, her back against the coffee table. “Furina?” Concerning lacing your voice as you quickly walked over to the curtain and shut it. Lowering yourself slowly to the floor, you noticed her eyes looked empty.

Small mutters left her mouth in a frantic and repetitive tone. “The water levels, have to stop them. Can’t let the people down. They’re gonna rise I need to do something. Do something. I need to do something.”

After fully positioning yourself next to her, you slowly reached out to place your hand on her knee. She instantly pulled away from your touch. “Don’t touch me!” She yelled, panic and anger tainted her words. Furina got like this when she became anxious. You didn’t take her words to heart no matter how harsh they were.

“Alright, I won’t touch you.” You acknowledged her wishes, she didn’t have the strength to thank you for that. Her hands rapidly tapped on her thighs, her entire body shaking. “The rain.. it’s need to stop. It’s bad, really bad.” Words barely pushed through her tears.

The sound of her chocked sobs filled the room. Your heart broke everytime you saw her like this. “The water levels won’t rise, I promise. Everyone is safe. The people of Fontaine, me, and you.” Taking a moment to see her reaction to her words caused you to pause. The same thing didn’t always work during these situations.

Sometimes, she needed you to be realistic. Other times, she appreciated delusions responses. The tapping of her fingers slowed, signifying that your words were affecting her positively. “You did your duties already to protect Fontaine. The prophecy is gone, everyone will be okay.”

Her sobs lessened, allowing breathes of air to come through. She sniffed a bit, prompting you to reach behind you to grab a tissue. Offering it, she gladly took it and began patting under her eyes before whipping her nose.

“Do you still want your pastries?” Furina nodded. “Yes, please bring them to me.” After walking to the kitchen and back, you placed the pastries and your tea on the coffee table. Swinging back around to the front of the table, you extended a hand to her.

She looked up through teary eyes, grabbing on to your hand. You pulled her to her feet, watching her not even take a second to gain her balance before she threw herself on to you. You accepted her embrace, slowly rubbing her back as the two of you hugged.

“I’m sorry.. I was just curious about what you were looking at. It was a bad idea to check.” She spoke into the hug. “Don’t apologize.” You replied stern yet sincere. “You never have to apologize for things like this, okay? I’m always here to help you.”

Furina’s arms squeezed around you tighter. You felt her arms tug you slightly and her feet move as she pulled you towards the couch. Letting go so you both could sit down, she sat on the couch first. You followed suit, sitting down next to her.

“Oh! I forgot I picked this one out yesterday!” If it wasn’t for the damp spots under her eyes, you would’ve never been able to tell she was crying. When Furina pulled away from the sweets plate and leaned back into the couch, you decided to take the opportunity to wipe away the rest of her tears.

You grabbed her chin, facing her towards you. “Hmm?” She questioned, chewing up a small piece of the pastry. Leaning closer to her you analyzed the tear spots under her eyes. You adjusted your sleeve and held it in your palm. Pulling your hand towards her face, you patted the tears under eyes.

She swallowed the remaining pastry, allowing herself to speak clearly. “Ah, thank you.” Her eyes shyly looked away from yours. Moving your hand to the other eyes, you patted under that one to before pulling your hand back.

Just as you were about to pull away, she grabbed your face in her hands. Pulling your face towards her, she placed her lips lovingly on you. Your arms snaked around her neck, finding comfort there as the two of you shared this intimate and comforting moment.

A smile accompanied by a pink tint on her face was a pleasant first thing to see after the kiss. You licked your lips, tasting the glaze of her pastries on your mouth. “Tasty.” You hummed.

Furina laughed at your response, reaching forward to grab the other one. “Would you like to split?” She wasn’t the type to share, especially the types of pastries she considered to be her favorite. You felt honored at the moment.

“I would love to.” She quickly split the pastry, handing you half of it. “Thank you again, truly. You go above and beyond to help me. I can only hope I find the means to repay you one day.”

You shook your head at her words. “You never need to repay me you know.” Furina’s head tilted out of curiosity. “Huh, why not?”

“Simple. I do this because I love you.”

#genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact #genshin imagines #furina #furina x reader #furina x you #genshin x you #furina fluff #furina angst

[sluttywoozi]

Adore You | Teaser | kmg x reader

I'd walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~0.6k

Mingyu prides himself on being the perfect personal assistant, on knowing exactly what you need and giving it to you before you ask, so when he hears you say your ex never could get you there, he takes it, well, personally.

Mingyu glances at his watch, noting that it’s nearing lunch, and shuffles around the papers on his desk, wishing he didn’t have bad news to give you. The end date of the project you’re overseeing will have to be delayed again, and he knows you won’t be happy. Of course you won’t take it out on your team, you understand that things happen, but it means you’ll have to explain to the higher ups why you need another month, and talking to them always puts you in a sour mood. 

It’s likely because you and everyone else in this building knows you’re more qualified and better suited to the role than the six old men in that big conference room are, but until one of them retires or dies, you’re stuck where you are. That means Mingyu is stuck where he is too, but he truly would be happy to stay here forever. 

Mingyu has been your personal assistant for six months now. He’s a bit clumsy, and he tends to order the exact same coffee as you so he has an extra just in case, and he once forgot his own strength and knocked so hard on your frosted glass door, it shattered, but he’s still good at lots of things! He’s attentive, eager, sharp, and he can always anticipate what you need before you even ask for it. He’s a pro at taking care of you, making sure you don’t work yourself too hard and that you drink plenty of water and eat regular meals. He does everything for you, everything but your job, and ensuring that you’re happy and content and well cared for is one of his greatest strengths. 

Which is why he’s borderline devastated when he overhears you on the phone. Your voice isn’t loud from his desk, but he’s trained his ears to listen for you and listen they do. You’re not talking about him, thank God, but you are talking about the boyfriend you just broke up with. You were dating him when Mingyu first started, and from the one and only time he met him at the office, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near good enough for you. Apparently, he even turned out to be bad for you, stressing you out and hurting your feelings and, worst of all (to you), he couldn’t make you cum. 

That’s shocking to Mingyu. He’s always been a giver during sex, gaining more pleasure from making someone else feel it rather than taking it for himself, but he knows not all guys are like that. This one didn’t even try, it seems from your complaints, and he can’t believe you lived like that for all these months. 

He doesn’t doubt you’ve cum in the meantime, he knows women masturbate just like men do, but hearing that you’ve been so neglected has his stomach churning. If it were him, he’d have to loosen you up with two or three orgasms before he could even fit his cock inside you, and if you let him in without a condom, he’d obviously have to clean you up with his mouth after, guaranteeing a grand total of four minimum. 

To think that you’ve been giving yourself to that man and getting nothing in return…

Mingyu doesn’t think he can let that stand. 

So, he comes up with a plan. 

Adore You Masterlist

My Masterlist

#svthub #mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #kpop imagine #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #✨emily writes✨

[sabokunsmalia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄, part one " the return of hiken,"

featuring: flame emperor sabo x fem!reader content warning: mentions of child's death, mdni!! hi it's malia: finally, i finished part one, i'm so glad and so devasted for her reaction towards sabo. excuse the she usage, but it was easier to write for me than using the you! it's still female reader.

tagged: @dimplesjaehyuniie & @96jnie

Equipped with a small mechanical crossbow on both wrists, she watched how the steel arrow slid in and out. Preparing her weapons for a fight if Zoro and Luffy would be followed by enemies. It was the worst-case scenario. A fight in the corridors of the Corrida Colosseum might not be the greatest idea to avoid unwanted attention, but she would not allow any others to hurt her friends.

Winning the Devil Fruit, which once belonged to Portgas D. Ace, was an important task for the Straw Hat captain. At the same time, he would feel responsible if one of his friends could receive deadly wounds from an enemy. Most likely because Luffy could have prevented the intensity of the damage. And in the moment where Ace's image popped into her mind, the loud cries and angry screams coming from the end of the corridor required her undivided attention.

Luffy tugged underneath his muscular arm, dressed in his usual attire again without the costume for the contest. Storming down the corridor, she raised her eyebrows in confusion. No one followed them, at least, she could not see any enemies closing in on the duo. Shaking her head at their unexplainable behavior, she felt the gentle breeze of the wind as the two passed her before turning and following. With slow steps, she walked through the Colosseum towards the exit. One that wasn't known to most contestants, who entered a fight, and were forced to stay as prisoners. A departure was not an option for strong people who once signed the contract.

Tricky, but fitting for a cruel person like Doflamingo.

"Take that!" The swordsman with the green hair shouted, throwing a blue caterpillar costume at the approaching markswoman. She caught it with one hand, staring at the ridiculous large eyes until Luffy's whiny sounds became the center of her undivided attention. "What happened to him?" A slender finger pointed at the crying man, who mumbled word after word between the tears streaming down his cheeks, and the drool running down his chin.

"No idea," Zoro shrugged his shoulders to strengthen his words. "Found him on the ground close to the cells, crying and without the clown costume,"

Luffy was lost deeply in his emotions, uncountable waves of tears ran down his flustered cheeks. Unable to move a heavy limb, Zoro helped his captain and certainly best friend to step into the costume, he brought along. If they wanted to walk through the streets of Dressrosa without being captured or attacked, the dress-up was a necessary change of clothing.

“Captain, are you good to go?” She spoke towards the boy with the inky strands, and the head thrown back. It was obvious that the scene he went through, must be almost as painful as watching his brother die. Something so similar that Luffy’s entire personality shrunk into a whining boy. “For fuck’s sake, who the hell did he see?”

The markswoman chuckled to herself, shaking the head from left to right as she kneeled down. Thick fabric of the caterpillar costume between her fingers, she imagined any kind of animal or enemy as the thing that straddled Luffy to such immense. While the Captain’s face was almost hidden as Zoro pulled on the zipper, she stepped into her own costume.

“S-Sabo,” Luffy stuttered between the sobs and whines. And the head of the markswoman snapped towards her last standing childhood friend. “What?” She questioned, thinking she must have heard the wrong name. It was impossible. “Sabo!” Luffy shouted, but Zoro’s large, scared hand was quick to cover up their Captain’s wide-open mouth before any danger found them.

She felt a pinch in her chest, a breath tangled between her ribs like the sharpened blade of a knife pierced through skin and bones without resistance. The name Luffy repeated while crying out of happiness caused too many unbearable emotions for her severed soul. Stopping in her tracks, the ridiculous animal costume Zoro brought along, slipped out of her grip and bunched around her ankles. Luffy would never speak his name again, if he would not tell the truth about the encounter.

The pain caused by his early and unexpected death was certainly enough to never repeat the memories with words. Something, the three had promised each other, even more so after the happenings at Marineford. “Hey!” Zoro waved his hand in front of the markswoman, demanding her undivided attention. And it was a coincidence that she heard his voice over the loud thudding of her heart against her rib cage. “Get dressed, we have to leave!”

Instead of following the instructions, she stepped out of the costume. What Luffy spoke, made her question the escape, question the current life they are living, question what happened that day when the ship got destroyed by the cannon balls of a World Noble. Dry lips pressed together in a tight line, fingers clenched into fists, she turned away from her friends and towards the secret entrance to the colosseum.

“We don’t have time for this! There’s nothing left in there for us!” Zoro shouted, pulling the costume higher to hide his signature hair color and his well-known face from the people of Dressrosa. “Maybe not for you, but I need to know if Luffy’s speaking the truth or if someone decides to play a distasteful game with us,” She stated, already walking slowly back into the Colosseum and leaving Zoro back to carry Luffy away.

Thoughts scattered in her mind, the reminder that he couldn’t be alive after his small boat got attacked by a World Noble’s crew. Caught in the fire, the explosion didn’t allow him to escape, and they held a funeral in Foosha Village for the boy. She cried many nights, almost each night she fell asleep with wet cheeks and the burning red color in her eyes.

“Sabo,” She whispered to herself, the head hanging lower than usual as she inspected the crossbows in her wrists. “Is that really you,”

Steel arrows prepared in the mechanism, she already expected to be disappointed again. A person, who could imitate another, or maybe Luffy’s idiotic behavior caused him to forget that the blonde boy couldn’t be alive. Still, she wandered through the corridors, following the shouts of an excited commentator about the next match-up. It was easy to find a way to the stands, which were filled with multiple people who eagerly watched the competition.

The people clapped and watched as the competitors of the finale started to fight in the middle of the arena. Names, which were known ones across the sea. And the markswoman did not seem vaguely interested in the fight until a familiar costume caught her eyes. It looked exactly like Luffy in disguise except for the signature scar on the chest. The person underneath the costume was paler than her Captain, and the x-shape was definitely drawn across the muscular chest.

Also, Luffy just escaped the Colosseum with Zoro to save Law from being executed by Doflamingo. Running a hand through her hair, she stared exactly at the person who acted as Lucy, fighting with a steel pipe before focusing on the middle part of the arena. Fingers clenched in the brown leather gloves, he punched the ground and the platform broke apart in seconds. "What the fuck," She whispered underneath a breath, eyebrows raised and pupils dilated in shock. The power was unbelievable.

The people scattered in the arena, running towards the exits to leave the Colosseum as the water underneath the arena caused chaos. Pieces of the ground floated around, contestants drowning in the water as Devil Fruit eaters weren't able to swim. Large fishes swam with the currents, one of them having a chest bound on their back. The man in the gladiator costume jumped straight to the treasure, while others cursed underneath their breaths. "This can't be," The markswoman muttered again, placing her feet on the railing and preparing herself to fight against the costumed lad to receive Ace's legacy herself.

One person stayed in the stands with her. A woman, dressed in a short skirt, and a very bright, pink blouse with a brown hat. She looked cute, especially with the stockings, and she held onto the pile of clothing in her arms. The chest was ripped open by the man who took Luffy's disguise and showed a smile when the Mera Mera No Mi was tightly in their hands. "I've won, this is mine," He declared, a deep. and almost too familiar voice rang in her ears. So familiar, she almost ended up starstruck and rooted to the railing of the stand around the ring.

Seconds too late, the second Lucy took a bite out of the Fire Fruit, and immediately regretted doing so. "How disgusting," He shouted, his tongue hanging out of his mouth while forcing the last pieces of the valuable Logia into his burning mouth. The woman in the cute costume beside the markswoman watched, a giggle leaving her mouth as she witnessed the facial expressions.

Within seconds, and still caught in the wave of memories and the simple glimpse of a familiar voice, the Straw Hat's markswoman stumbled into the ring. In mid-air, the Lucy duplicate proudly presented the growing fire around his fist. A strong attack, a loud word echoed through the arena above the gasps of surprise. "Hiken," He shouted, losing the fake beard and cheap, golden helmet while destroying the entirety of the ring. Enemies drowned in the floating waves, and got hit by the crumbled platforms and thick pieces of stones hitting their bodies.

Landing safely on the ground underneath the ring, the Lucy duplicate smirked to himself and placed a saved Rebecca on the ground. After him, the woman with the folded clothing followed quickly after him, jumping confidently from one piece to another. And while, the markswoman attempted her best to stand tall while sliding down the side of the ring, she landed on her ass on the hard stone ground in one of the tunnels. Eyes squinted together, the footsteps of a group of people running close to her caught her attention, and helped her to receive the power over herself back.

"Fuck," She cursed, standing up and letting the span of her soft palm rub over her aching lower back and the curve of her butt cheeks. "What's going on," She muttered to herself, looking around to at least find out where she was. No one knew about the secret tunnel system underneath the town, at least, none have told her about what was going on in those bunkers of Dressrosa.

Surely, the SMILE factory must be hidden in such a place. One of the many reasons why the Straw Hats came to this forsaken land, and decided to help the tortured folk regain their freedom from Doflamingo.

"Who the hell are you?" The voice of the female gladiator, the woman with the pink hair and the sword, echoed through the quiet tunnels. She was saved by the man who disguised himself as Lucy, taking the costume away from Luffy and eventually telling him important information about Sabo. Shared secrets that caused the emotional damage to the Straw Hat, and even rendered him unable to speak a full sentence without repeating the name of a long-lost brother. "We're from the Revolutionary Army," The man explained, chuckling about the change of emotion on Rebeka's face.

And suddenly, the markswoman, who was just straddled by the destruction of the fighting area, felt her heart thudding against her rib cage. Quickly, and even harshly which almost caused unbearable pain to her body. Such a familiar glint in the voice of the adult, such a sweet hint in the melodic sound of the man's tone. "I'm Sabo,"

Eyes dilated within seconds, tears gathering on her lower lashline as the name easily left the male's mouth. Spoken without hesitation, without fear and without regret of acting as if he was someone, who couldn't be alive anymore. Couldn't have survived the attack on his small, wooden boat about twelve years ago. Fingers clenched into fists, she reloaded the crossbows on her wrists and ran toward the spot between the multiple barrels. Fast steps allowed her to witness the moment as the girl with the goggles placed an all-too-familiar hat in a larger version on top of the blonde's hat.

"You're not the original Lucy," Rebeka stated, pointing a finger at the man who was busy controlling the fire in his palm. He still had trouble, attempting to pull his brown leather gloves over his digits. " The original Lucy is a pirate. A chaotic but brave one, who will become the King of the Pirates, he's my little brother," The man in his noble outfit chuckled, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat after finally hiding his soft digits in the leather material of his gloves.

Stopping in her tracks, but already in sight for the group of three and the former female contestant to see, her fingers released the clenched fists at the sight and the explanations he was giving.

There might be a chance that someone could imitate Sabo to mess with Luffy's head, but none could talk about the Straw Hat with such pride and belief. From the first day on Luffy revealed his dream to his older brothers, the noble-born boy with the pipe on his back believed in the dreams of the crying boy. It was possible, it all seemed so possible for them. She remembered those moments, those little, beautiful moments of a carefree past so perfectly.

"S-Sabo," She stuttered out the name of a man, who gave her enough as a ten-year-old. Who offered her love before she could even describe the word or emotion before she even experienced the positive and negative aspects of it.

Tears dwelled in the corners of her widened eyes, blown pupils stared at the trio of the revolutionary army as the one in the middle lifted his head. Tilted to the side, the brim wasn't hiding parts of his face anymore. A breath, she took seconds ago, stuck in her tightened throat at the sight. Words mixed between spit and air, a confusing mixture of syllables on the tip of her tongue. Eyes, she remembered so dearly. Eyes, so innocent with a glint of courage hidden in the depth. Eyes, who presented a deep love and caring for the young, noble-born girl around twelve years ago.

Eyes, which burst open at the sight of the brave warrior. The burned skin around his eye stretched as he raised his blonde brows at the female, whose gentle features with the sharp twist were a familiar picture to him. Sabo, who froze while playing with the insides of his pockets and watched the droplets slowly roll down the span of her flustered cheeks. "This can't be true," A whisper so sincere, so quiet it only belonged to her and couldn't be carried by the gentle blows of wind towards the revolutionaries in front of her.

"Sabo-kun," The woman in the light pink blouse wrapped her slender arms around the blonde's arm, shaking him hesitantly from left to right. "What's wrong with you? Are you alright?" She was almost whining, whimpering at the state of her superior. Almost fearing that the Mera Mera No Mi consumer froze in place.

"How," The stunned markswoman spoke again, comprehending the confrontation of a moment, she doubted since Luffy spoke the forbidden name. A scene, she dreamt of. Meeting him again, seeing him all grown up and becoming the person he talked about while watching the sun hide behind the horizon. "How are you alive? This must be a cruel joke," She shook her head, outstretching her arm and showing him her flat palm while stepping back. Some devil fruit user must be playing a very twisted, and sick game.

So, she aimed her crossbow at his figure. The steel head of the arrow pointed at the man's chest while being released with the simple twitch of her thumb and pointer finger. No, Sabo was dead, he was killed when they were still children. He never reached the first island, he never left the boat. They saw him and witnessed how the boat sank after burning. No, this wasn't Sabo, this couldn't be him. "You died! You fucking died twelve years ago. Stop using Sabo's image against us," She shouted, firing another one of her deadly arrows but it was no use. After eating the Logia Devil Fruit, his body was made of pure heat. Flames closed the hole in his stomach without pain and blood, and she stared at the sight. A familiar view, she witnessed when Ace toyed with his enemies until destroying their existence.

"No, you're not real,"

#one piece #opla #opla x reader #one piece x reader #opla imagine #one piece x you #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #sabo op #one piece sabo #asl brothers #asl trio #revolutionary sabo #sabo x reader #sabo #portgas d ace #sabo x you #sabo fanfiction #sabo one piece #sabo the revolutionary #monkey d. ruffy #monkey d. luffy #strawhat pirates #straw hat crew #straw hat pirates #straw hat luffy