#//so many random things can become inquiries

[truly-quirkless-a]

"...yes....it's one of the effects of the limelight young Kaminari, if you get famous enough." The male shook his head. "--some villains even argued they were my type... as if that would somehow help them in fights..." All of them were beaten, rather soundly, of course...but it was still an awkward period, when everyone had gone wild over his proposed sexualities. "The rumors have at least died down, as of late."

@truly-quirkless

"E-Even with you, sir??"

[poomphuripan]

Hello Claire,

First of all, thank you so much for everything you have been sharing these last few weeks about My Stand-In and Poom (and Up). It's such a treat ❤️

Was My Stand-In Poom's first project out of CH8 or was it Bake Me Please? I hope his popularity will rise and allow him to be cast in different kinds of show and role. Because it must be frustrating to always play the same type of character... And do you know in which agency does he belong please?

Have a nice day ❤️

hiiii (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

well thank you for following and always supporting my gifs i see you (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

So Bake Me Please is actually Channel 8 (CH8)'s first ever BL series where they got their rising male actors (Ohm, Guide, Poom, Atom, Prame, Tawan) to star in, so BMP is actually a CH8 series.

I believe Poom's first ever non CH8 work is Saneha Stories Season 4: Saiyai Saneha (2022) which is a two-episode mini series based on the real life story of a gay man. This was aired on AIS Play and produced by TV Thunder.

Poom also has another comedy series Jenny A.M./P.M. (2022) on AIS Play but this was in collaboration with CH8 which is why there were some CH8 actors (Poom, Nonny, Prame) in the series. Poom plays the straight best friend of the male protagonist (played by Singto Prachaya).

So technically My Stand-In is Poom's 2nd or 3rd work outside of CH8 (depending on how you view the two projects above) but it is Poom's first lead role in a major production and Poom often refers to My Stand-In as his first ever lead role in interviews so that's Poom's position on it 😅

For some background on Poom's agency. He is managed by RSDG - a production/talent management subsidiary company of RS Group, a Thai entertainment and media company that owns CH8. So basically Poom is a Channel 8 actor but it seems that CH8 is a bit more laxed about their actors partaking in series outside of their network (but that also comes with a cost).

I've heard rumors that CH8 gave Poom an ultimatum between becoming 2ML in another CH8 lakorn or choosing to star in My Stand-In (a non CH8 work) and not having any CH8 lakorn projects left for the rest of the year. I have no idea the accuracy of this rumor but I guess all we gotta do is look at Poom's schedule for the rest of this year and see if he's got anything else other than MSI fanmeetings here and there ಥ_ಥ

But I have a lot of fun watching Poom playing his evil lakorn villain roles at CH8 as well and I think those scenes helped greatly in honing his acting skills throughout his acting career so far (you can watch Poom being very stiff in his early works and the gradual improvement progress over the course of his lakorn works). If you pick a random CH8 lakorn with Poom, his character is sure to be killing or dying or crying or getting mad or fucking someone (sometimes all of the above).

Whatever the future holds for Poom, I'm very happy that he chose My Stand-In because I can't imagine a world where we do not get Poom Phuripan as Joe. Poom expresses a lot of happiness from finally getting positive reactions about his acting performances for the first time, which is a thing that I think lakorn actors will hardly get (especially if you play supporting roles at an obscure TV channel with low to average viewership). I also feel like Poom is pretty happy to finally get to play a character that's so close to his personality in real life (bonus the fact that his character isn't dying or going to jail).

I too hope that My Stand-In will be the breakthrough project Poom needed to get the attention and the opportunities he deserved after being much underrated and typecasted at CH8, manifesting many interesting scripts and acting opportunities come his way 🥹

sorry op i hope i answered some of your inquiries. i totally get carried away whenever i'm rambling. tldr: poom is managed by rsdg group so officially speaking, he's an actor for channel 8 but sometimes they let him out to star in non-ch8 works.

[sugar-omi]

Hi Naeomi 👋

Thank you for replying to my inquiry so diligently (omg, me trying to sound like Baxter XD dead)!

For my Baxter request, I want to understand his character more, so I wanna pick ur brain for some ideas 😄

He is a very considerate person as his approach to the MC's comfort level changes between nervous, relaxed, and direct (i think 🤔😅). I just want to know how he reacts with an MC (on crush/love) who is only anxious around him but relaxed with everyone else. MC would be trying to fluster the crap out of Cove and talking excitedly about nerdy stuff (anime/manga, video games, books, random facts on their interests, a tv series, etc.), but when Baxter comes around they simmer down and smile all giddy his way and talk about stuff they he may like or be interested in.

Honestly, my MC would feel a bit unsure how to act around Baxter at first, but eventually, they become more comfortable over time as he is revealed to be easygoing and welcoming to MC's quirky side. Makes my heart flutter just thinking about it, so cute~ 🥰☺️

hii !!! omg your mc sounds so cute n honestly like me when I was younger lol, so sweet<33 excuse to the format I'm on mobile rn and I'll fix text color n format n stuff once I'm on my computer😎👍👍👍👍honestly i had fun writing this, two darlings taking their time to open up n love each other, embracing each others quirks... its so sweet, pls i feel like i could write another lil drabble abt how happy n cute baxter would be w a playful reader like this, mmm many thoughts

tags : fluff, nervous crush/love status w baxter, multiple choice text, headcanons/drabbles

*edited for format

this man is too cocky for his own good, baxter can easily tell how someone feels about him.

but I think that excludes people he has a crush on, as you couldn't possibly like/love him back.

he has some shame! although it's only enough to not assume everyone is in love with him or likes him in any capacity...

anyway, we'll get to that later~

at first he thinks it's because you want to impress him or maybe you don't want to bore him with what you think is brain rot to someone so mature and elegant as him.

(+ a "small" but darker part of him thinks you might hate him, that you don't want to show a piece of yourself to this weird stranger on your block. he squishes the thought)

so he finds out your interest through terri/terry and by spying on snippets of your conversations with your family or with cove.

and even though he will only admit it if you threaten him with something terrifying, like angry dragons, early mornings, or worse- color. then and only then will he admit he wants you to tease him the same way you do with cove.

you're so close with him, snuggling up to cove's side, and you smirk so tantalizingly as you lean i. close to whisper it in his ear, and you say something dirty or perhaps its something cove finds especially scandalous but now cove is blushing and he's pushing you away with a chastising "y/n!"

and baxter wishes it was him...

he wants you to curl up behind him and blow on his ear the way you do cove. he wants you to pinch his butt as he walks by and he wants you to flirt with him.

and he wants you to show up on his temporary doorstep to show him your favorite volume of a manga that you finally got your hands on.

and when baxter is a hopeless romantic because he's so vulnerable under the blanket of night, he imagines you laying next to him in this big bed and he imagines the music is blending in with your voice as you babble on about something before it drifts off into your soft breath when you fall asleep due to the late hour.

but time goes on and his vacation nears the quarter mark and whenever you two talk he notices that you are getting into some of the things he likes, like rock music, and when you see him walking lazily back to his condo you come rushing off the steps of your porch, abandoning your snickering moms, and showing baxter the new song you found that he had not listened to before.

you light up at the praise in a way that makes him wish he could capture it forever...

finally baxter comes to the conclusion that he should speak to you about the things you like, and the first time he mentions something about your hobby you clam up a bit.

you don't want to bore him or scare him off with your excitement but in the end you're showing him your craft/collection and telling him every shiny detail and he's so happy to watch the light in your eyes as you speak.

eventually though you two get to the point where you try to fluster him.

it's not often, baxter makes you far too nervous and he can see anything coming from a mile away. he's so cool and you love him for it but God is his smirking face irritating when you just want him to blush, giggle and kick his feet like a love sicken school girl.

but you finally get him to flush. it takes more than half his vacation for it to happen but you're standing behind him as he works away at plating the dinner you two cooked up together.

it's simple, both of you combined have the cooking skills of a sea turtle but it's good enough for one night and it's edible.

it's good enough, you know your way around a stove well enough not to burn the house down and with baxter as your assistant you're more focused on how fun it was than anything.

it's perfect, you know how to whip up something delicious and baxter did more chopping and passing of the seasonings than anything.

he doesn't process it at first but then it hits him like a ton of bricks.

you just... said something flirty?

he's short circuting and his ears are red, and baxter pretends that his blush isn't spread down to his neck.

it's such a reward for you, you can't help but gape for a moment because baxter alexander ward is walking away from you with a blush from his ears to below the collar of his shirt and he definitely squealed a bit when he beckoned you to the living room.

it takes a whole summer of talking to you about things you like that he has little or no knowledge in, doing an activity that caters to/is apart of your interest, and soothing you when you cut yourself off when talking (it's okay, he does want to hear whatever you're looking to ramble about, be it something exciting, something that happened when practicing your hobby, or venting about something you thought was terrible or sad in a show/comic you saw earlier that week.)

and he finally gets to a point where you're teasing him a bit more often, even if you don't get the flustered reaction you want, and you're taking a page out of cove's book and the two of you spent a secret night in baxter's condo, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time.

but then he leaves, and he let's you down gently but his rejection stabs like a knife anyway.

so when you meet again, half a decade later, baxter feels his heart fall out his stomach so bad he sucks it in to try and make up for the way his heart clocks out and air leaves his lungs...

you look sad. this wasn't what you either of you were expecting to be faced with and having no time to prepare yourself to face the man who ended your relationship that summer has your eyes glassed over and your fingers dig into your skin to ground yourself.

you look indifferent. somehow that hurts more than if you were sad or angry at him, not that he'd prefer it but the smaller part of him thinks that your empty gaze shows he's lost any part in your life and you stare through him like you can see the rawness of his heart...

your face is schooled into a stony expression and you've folded your arms to match the rest of tour cold posture. he can't tell what you're thinking even though he's searching your eyes and this time baxter can't tell if you want to cry, scream at him, or if you're looking past him to the scenic view. but he sees your fingers twitch, like you want to either grab him by his tie or run.

you look angry. you try to mask it, not wanting to display the unadulterated rage you feel but your lip quirks up and your eyes are sharp and the words that escape your lips lick at baxter's ears like fire. if your thunderous glare could kill a man he'd be a goner..

he knows he's fucked up either way.

and the whole time you're working together, you're distant. although sometimes you snap back, you confront him and you joke with him sometimes.

you're both too nostalgic, you're both too in love.

somehow, you let him start over.

perhaps its the nostalgia and sentiment that came from making the groom cake together, or how beautiful scott and jude's wedding went, or perhaps its the way the other person laughs and smiles that has you drunk.

but now you two are sitting on baxter's couch and you're letting him start over.

he messed up, it's something hard to move past. something you did, for better or for worse but now it's for the better and you're moving on together.

and you're almost as nervous as you were when you first met but this time it's more that you're reserved than anything else.

sometimes he thinks he's fucked up too much, that when you cut yourself short while rambling and when you take more interest in his hobbies than your own, baxter puts a stop to it quickly.

it takes while. you both try too much to insert yourself into the other person's likes, as if that will make the comfortable relationship you had once come back quicker.

but finally, you and baxter are sharing a bed in the middle of your new apartment, and you're laughing about something funny Miranda sent you earlier that day and in the morning you two are spinning around your new kitchen in a guideless dance with your hands intertwined and you're laughing...

and baxter loves both versions of you.

the version of you that's so in love with him you quiet down, letting him take up all the space in the world and the other version of you that rants about something stupid in an anime and pinches his pale thigh when he's searching through his messy pile of clothes for that one specific shirt.

and he's so happy you opened up to him and you still open up to him everyday, loving him the same no matter how shy you are that day <333

[grad604-amber]

Week 8: Body copy

This week we need to go back and look at what we wrote over the break and try to solidify it into something more conceptual that can be used for the poster. The text is 50 WORDS MAX, so for me I need to ensure that I don't waffle and write too much. Below is the rubric, or what we are aiming to achieve with our writing.

Discuss the relationship between design and a range of historical, cultural and contextual issues.

Apply critical thinking through academic research contexts

Analyse and synthesize key texts in relation to cultural and contextual issues in design. 

Communicate key ideas and concepts through a range of visual, written and oral methods

INVESTIGATION: Proficiency in evaluating and extending links between a complex range of conceptual and contextual content.

COMMUNICATING: Your command and expertise of new - tools and methods to advance and document the research process.

REFLECTING: Your cohesive questioning and reflection of material to extend the inquiry.

INTEGRATING: Your ability to articulate and integrate research thinking, processes and findings, clearly and fluently to present ideas.

Below are examples we were given on the slides to guide us so we can use them as a template to ensure we are writing the right thing.

Here is what I have done from the activity:

These are not my finalised writing pieces rather just made sure I have ticked all the boxes for my written part, ensuring it is giving the right information. I will begin to finalise it from here.

CONNECTIONS:

Task 1:

We were given a task that can be "Used to develop and refine your element selections and categorisations through analysis, reflection and discussion, and make timely and appropriate changes if needed."

This should be for all 20 elements to be included in your final assessment, or as many elements as you have at present. You can always add and/or edit some of the elements in response to this exercise. 

Name your categories in terms of the main defining feature: e.g., “Tools I use in my design work” or “Possessions of personal significance which influence my design practice” 

Because I prefer doing things analogue I have a rough little map sketched out grouping my objects:

Needs refinement this is just a rough grouping - will refine to determine How I want it to be presented in my poster with strong meaning.

Task 2:

As a designer/creative, you could also explore creative, visual and non-logical methods to create new typologies, if consistent with your strategy. E.g., do you notice half the elements are pink in colour or hand-crafted? Is this interesting, helpful, or offer opportunities or limitations worth considering?

I have noticed a lot of items are hand crafter or second-hand - they feel very exploratory and random but at the same time all very fitting - they have had to be discovered, which takes time and patience but shows the outcome is worth it.

What do your current categories tell you about the elements contained in them?

A lot of the hand-crafted items are considered very personal and meaningful to me while also relating to the designer tool kit I have - which consists of analogue materials.

What underpins your categorisations? Are the elements grouped by a key characteristic, material or medium – or something else? e.g. typography, fluid type, poster design, etc?

Mine may feel slightly broad as I have said all the items are mainly analogue or illustrative but I think that describes me as a creative well, an explorer.

When seen together, what story do these elements and their categorisation tell an audience?

I want the audience to see this journey throughout my life and upbringing and how the little things that have stuck with me and become so significant to me not only as a person but as a creative - from the sea glass collection to the little ceramic I have collected and made some unique items that depict my love for hand crafting and analogue process. It will not only reflect in the way the poster is presented but also in my additional designer tool kit which is displayed within the 20 elements.

This task has helped me to reevaluate from the last task where I felt I didn't really categorise it well and it was quite broad - by answering these questions I have been able to think of a better way to organise.

[belamuse]

5 Important Questions to Uncover your Soul Purpose.

We all come into this life with a soul purpose and with gifts that we are here to share with the world.

This is also known as our dharma, or our act of devotion to the world. For many of us, life before discovering that purpose is… utterly purposeless.

Personally, the search for my purpose completely consumed me throughout my adolescence and into my early adulthood. I had this burning sense deep within me that there was something I knew and came here to do but somehow forgot.

I could not rest. I would not be satisfied until I found it.

I was relentless in my quest to uncover it, constantly asking, “Why am I here?” “What is my purpose?” and “How can I help people?” I was turning over every stone, going on many random forays, and journeying down every pathway possible to find the answers.

I was wildly unhappy and felt a gaping hole within me until I found the path that I am on now and began connecting with my soul’s purpose.

There are no words apt to describe the joy, the magic, the bliss, the excitement, the abundance, the fulfillment, the miraculousness, and the alignment that comes from being connected with your purpose here in this lifetime.

I am incredibly grateful that my soul contract saw me connecting with my purpose so early on in life, as many people go their entire lives searching and never finding this purpose. And part of my purpose is helping others uncover theirs!

Here are five windows that you can look through and make a self-inquiry in order to uncover your soul’s gifts and purpose:

1. What are you naturally good or gifted at doing?

We are conditioned to believe that we need to work hard in order to succeed. It’s hard for us to believe that we could be celebrated, paid, and appreciated for the things that we find easy or natural to do.

On the contrary, our soul’s purpose and gifts are actually something that come easily and naturally to most of us. That’s why they are considered our gifts.

Look at what comes easiest or naturally for you and you’ll quickly uncover some of your core soul gifts. These could be skills and talents that you have, such as public speaking, healing, dancing, painting, cooking, musicianship, writing, or being good at math or science. Also, they include your inherent personality traits.

Soul purpose is not only about what you are doing but who you are being in the process.

Traits that come naturally to you, such as emotional intelligence, empathy, compassion, problem-solving, leadership, creative thinking, or even esoteric wisdom that you simply possess without knowing how you know also count as soul gifts.

Perhaps, people always come to you for help and support and you’re great at helping them solve or work through their problems.

Perhaps, you’re amazing at lifting the vibe when those around you are sad.

Perhaps, you’re a natural-born leader and people tend to respect and look up to you.

All of these are traits belonging to your soul signature, and being an authentic embodiment of them is an important part of your soul’s purpose here. If you’re struggling to answer this question, ask your friends and nearest and dearest to help by asking their opinion and what they perceive your strengths to be.

2. What bothers you that other people aren’t good at doing, or that other people are naturally embodying?

Often it’s the gifts that come naturally to us that we can’t for the life of us understand why others don’t have them. We take these traits or talents of ours for granted, assuming everyone else should find it as easy or natural as we do. Therefore, we are often frustrated or impatient when someone around us isn’t embodied in a soul gift or trait that comes naturally to us.

Look at where you become easily bothered or annoyed at someone for not understanding, being good at, or “getting” something the way you do.

Does it trigger you when people are slow at doing certain activities?

What can you not tolerate other people lacking, for instance, emotional intelligence, the ability to grasp concepts, and the ability to take action on their desires?

On the inverse, are there certain things, positions, roles, or traits you see others embodying that trigger you?

We are often triggered by somebody who is authentically, unashamedly expressing an aspect of ourselves that we have repressed. For instance, you may see a woman who is radiant and unashamed in her sensuality, and that might trigger you because you repress your own.

If you see someone who is a powerful speaker, it might trigger you because that is a gift that you have that you are not using. Our triggers are wonderful doorways and windows into the deeper truths about ourselves.

3. What can you lose time doing?

Our soul purpose and gifts activate the flow of the life force within us. When we are fulfilling them, we become open vessels, channels, and conduits for divine inspiration to flow through us. This energy heals, uplifts, and brings joy and love to others and to ourselves.

In a flow state, all worries and thoughts melt away and you become completely present—devoted and immersed in the activity you are doing. You seem to slow down or lose all sense of time completely. You look down and begin writing, and then when you look at the clock again it’s been five hours.

Look at the hobbies, interests, activities, and talents in your life that you can lose all sense of space and time doing, and more importantly, the things that bring you immense joy. This brings me to…

4. What lights you up, what brings you joy, and what are you passionate about?

In order to find your purpose, the most important barometer to follow is:

What brings you joy?

What feels good, juicy, pleasurable, and exciting for you to do?

What brings you genuine joy?

What takes you into a childlike state of wonder, play, and curiosity?

If you can’t answer these questions, this is a good place to start.

Our souls will always be speaking to us through little pings of joy, tingles of excitement, and feelings of pleasure. Follow the fun crumbs!

Abundance, joy, and love are our soul’s natural state of being, so anything that gets you in touch with those states of being is going to be in alignment with your soul purpose. Yep, even if you can’t figure out how to monetize it yet. (This comes later, as you’ll always be supported to fulfill your soul’s purpose. It’s literally stipulated in your soul contract.)

When we are in a state of joy, excitement, and passion, it is infectious to those around us. You can’t help but feel excited and uplifted around someone who is passionate and joyful about what they do! In doing things that bring us excitement and joy, we are giving others permission to follow their bliss and do the things that light them up, by allowing them to activate and share their soul gifts.

When looking at this window, ask yourself:

What could you talk about or do until you’re blue in the face?

If you were stranded in the desert and could take or do only one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

For the record, I want to say that there have been times on this journey when I’ve had no clue what actually brings me joy, particularly during my experiences of the dark night of the soul. I was feeling super disconnected from my feelings of joy, happiness, and a desire to live at all.

So, if this is you, and you can’t connect to or figure out what brings you joy right now, that’s okay. I invite you to go out and try a whole heap of new things until you find activities that do. You’d be surprised at what you might find. I didn’t actually know half the things even existed that now bring me the most joy.

A beautiful mantra you can use every day to connect to this intention is:

“Soul (universe/higher self/God), guide me to what would truly nourish, fulfill, and excite me today.”

Last, but certainly not least…

5. What traits or gifts of yours, when you are authentically expressing them, bring joy, peace, love, healing, or activation to others around you?

As I’ve already pointed out, our soul purpose and gifts are given to us to share. In the act of sharing these gifts, we are uplifting those around us, and as a result, the vibration of the planet.

When looking through this window, ask yourself: What is it that you do that people often express their gratitude toward you for doing or being?

For instance:

Are you naturally thoughtful and kind?

Do you enjoy nurturing, helping, and supporting others?Is your presence uplifting or inspiring?

Do people go nuts for your cooking, or become overwhelmed with emotion when you play the instrument you play?

Do people reach out to you to thank you for inspiring them with your writing?

Or, do they simply appreciate you for holding a loving, non-judgemental space for them?

What is it that you do that you know brings a positive impact to others?

These are five windows you can look through in order to uncover your soul’s gifts and purpose, but in no way is this an exhaustive list. Your soul purpose is multifaceted and is not just what you are doing but who you are being.

Allow that to sink in. It’s less about doing and more about being.

In order to fulfill your soul purpose and mission, literally all you need to do is: be the most authentic, unique, You-iest version of you that there is and share that with the world. Any work that you can do to connect to your true self, or the self beneath the conditioning, the limitations, the masks, the stories, and the identities is inevitably going to align you with that sense of fulfillment and purpose within.

And don’t forget, your soul’s purpose is your authentic soul expression and the art that you share in the world—no matter what form that comes in.

[dipperdesperado]

I Found The Best Framework to Plot My Stories (MICE Quotient Masterclass)

For a long time, I had all of these amazing worlds bouncing around in my head but wasn’t really sure how to bring them to life. When I just free wrote, characters would feel alive, but the plot was a mess and the scenes fell flat. For me, just trying to follow things like the 3 act structure made the pacing go belly up. What the heck are you supposed to do during all of Act Two?

Then, I found the MICE Quotient, and just like that, I had a framework that can work with any story structure. It's specific enough to be useful, but flexible enough to encompass many different story elements. Hopefully, by employing it, you can come up with great stories of your own.

MICE can be used at any length and for any (sequential) story medium. Books, film, tv, comics, et cetera.

I like to think of MICE as the foundation for your story. Each letter represents a different "type" of element. You combine them in unique arrangements to create your unique story.

Each element in MICE is made up of 3 basic parts:

The introduction of the element into the story

The story conflicts as the element try to be resolved

The resolution of the element.

The four elements are Milieu, Inquiry, Character, and Event. We’ll go into depth for all of them, starting with Milieu.

Milieu

The milieu is a character’s environment, where the action happens. A spaceship. Their house. Stories are all about momentum, so this should be a space that facilitates conflict.

The basic structure of this element is a character enters a new space → they encounter conflicts and obstacles within and relating to this space → the character leaves the space.

Usually, the character’s goal is to leave the space, and your goal as a writer is to be a pain in their rear. You want to systematically prevent them from winning until you finally allow them to succeed.

Inquiry

Next is the Inquiry. It’s all about questions.

This one has a structure where the character has some question → they encounter conflicts and obstacles relating to this question → the character gets the answer.

As a writer, your goal is to make the journey to the answer interesting. Give the character false leads, red herrings, and slight of hands. Once the mystery is solved, the ideal situation is for us to retroactively understand the clues, but not have seen them coming at the same time.

Character

The C in mice stands for Character, which I’ll argue is the most important part of any story. This element is all about the character’s emotions and psychology. The character starts with some angst, and by the end, shifts their mindset in a different direction.

The structure is that: something makes the character realize a flaw → they encounter obstacles and conflicts that make them feel bad as they try to rectify the flaw → the character comes out on the other side, solid in who they are.

One thing to keep in mind is that this doesn’t always have to be a positive arc. It can also be a character accepting their crappiness. This is all about them becoming who they’re supposed to be. Sometimes that’s just someone who is okay with themselves, warts and all.

Event

Finally, we have the E, the Event. For me, this is one of the easiest ones to grasp.

It’s where a story establishes some status quo -> an Event happens that throws it off -> the characters spend the conflict and obstacle sections trying to restore the status quo.

Usually, this ends up creating a “new normal”. After life-altering events, nothing ever really goes back to exactly how it was before.

So, we have all of our elements. Just from hearing them, you can probably imagine how they can weave in and out of each other and relate. That’s what you want! This is one of those greater than the sum of its parts kinds of situations. Imagine a story where a character is just in the void, angsty for 5 minutes until they have a random epiphany and feel better about themselves. For most people, that probably wouldn’t be a very engaging story! Mixing these elements together in interesting ways and arrangements is what can make your story feel well-designed and exciting.

Before we get into practice, an important thing to note is the nesting aspect of these elements. For my coders, you can think of curly braces or russian dolls. If the first element you use is character, the last you resolve will be that same character element. If Johnny starts the story dealing with social anxiety, the story will end with however he finally addresses that dissonance between who he is and who he wants to be. All the subsequent elements introduced will be resolved before that. It just keeps going, just like Russian dolls.

Example visual of element nesting:

Examples of MICE Quotient in action - Naruto

Now, we’re going to do a couple examples. The first one is from my favorite piece of fiction ever, Naruto. Not to say it’s the best written, but it's the one I consistently enjoy the most. Anyways, let’s break down the first episode of Naruto using the MICE Quotient/Framework thingy. Spoilers for the first episode. If you want to watch it, it’ll be linked here.

The episode starts with an Event: The nine-tailed fox attacking Naruto’s village. It causes a lot of damage and trouble. To stop it, the leader of the village gives his life to seal it away, inside Naruto.

This leads to our Character element, where Naruto becomes a troublemaker, pining for attention. He wants to be accepted. All that he does is to reach his dream of becoming Hokage since that is what he feels like will ensure his acceptance by the people around him.

The final main MICE element we’ll focus on for the first episode is an Inquiry: How will I pass the academy exam? He tries and initially fails to do the clone Jutsu. This is the third time he’s failed, so it doesn’t look like he’ll ever graduate.

Going back to the curly brace or Russian doll visual, each element is closed in the opposite order of their introduction. So since the Inquiry was introduced last, it gets closed/resolved first. Naruto is able to pass by using the scroll that he was manipulated into stealing to learn the Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu, a high-level clone jutsu. Don’t ask why this was easier for him than a normal clone.

The Character and Event are also resolved, but much later in the series. I won’t spoil that too much, but just know that they resolve in that same order.

Examples of MICE Quotient in action - Naruto

Hopefully, you’re getting the gist of this. Now, we’ll try it ourselves! I’m going to start with an idea, and use the MICE Quotient to chart out a very broad story outline.

So, after a few minutes of thinking, I came up with a story idea: Something unknown reaches across time and space to teleport humans from different periods and cultures in history, bringing them all to an earthlike-ringworld, a la Halo Infinite.

With that story idea in mind, here’s my MICE Quotient outline.

We start with the I, an Inquiry. We have a researcher who through some excavation, finds some super advanced technology that was buried underground for like forever. He’s trying to answer a question: what are the origins of this tech?

This then leads them to tinker with it, triggering the E, the Event, where they cause some reaction from the technology. A giant flash of light, and POOF! That whole wing of the lab is gone.

We then enter a new M, the Milieu. The researcher and their team find themselves in a new place that seems both familiar and alien.

Through the trials and tribulations of trying to adapt to this situation, we get a C, a Character situation. The researcher realizes their shortcomings as a leader and members of a team. This comes in no small part due to them causing the current situation, along with them trying to lead the survival efforts.

The final new element we get is another E, an Event, where our scientists run into…Ancient Roman soldiers! What the heck!

We then close that E by having them fight and defeat the roman soldiers. How did they do it? I don’t know!

Through this journey with the other scientists, the researcher comes to learn about how to be a better leader and a better team player. That closes the character, the C element.

Once everyone’s able to work together well, they figure out what they need to do to escape. They are able to close the Milieu and leave this new place.

Once they are back on earth, in our time, the Event is resolved, and the status quo is “restored”.

All of this leads to them understanding the truth of how this technology works and where it comes from. This resolves that initial Inquiry at the beginning.

I hope now, you can, with these two examples, relatively confidently apply them to the stories you like, and use that as a springboard for your own stories. From here, you just fill in the insides of the elements with conflicts and story moments, and you’ll have your story! Once I discovered this, it was like being able to see the seams behind a lot of stories in a way that was more useful than some of the other ways that I’ve seen stories be broken down.

---

I hope that all makes sense! Now, try to use the MICE framework to chart out your own stories, and get to writing! See you soon :)

[cantalouupe]

curiosity

nsfw!!! kaeya x f!reader

prequel to this drabble

hand & finger kink, semi public sex except you don’t have sex with him he just makes you suck on his fingers

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The knights of Favonius weren’t a group of people you mingled with. While you had no quarrels with any of them and had even spoken to some before, they just weren’t people that you considered friends.

There was nothing you held against them, no vendetta you had. Your feelings of them were just neutral. Pleasant conversations are easy to have with the ones stationed around town, where they’re willing to help you with really anything you need.

That’s probably why you’ve never really had to interact much with them. You’ve never been in danger and so help from them wasn’t something you had to seek out.

The higher ups, though, were a different story. You’ve also not interacted with any of them, but heard of them incredibly often, seen the outrider around town.

But that was all.

You had understood they were busy with all their work and obviously didn’t expect them to come out just so they can talk to you, a random citizen - still, you were curious. With all the big talk of them they were bound to be quite an interesting few people.

Sara, who worked at The Good Hunter - a little restaurant near the center fountain in town that served amazing food - had told you about them. The interesting honorary knight that travels with a little fairy in search for his sister, the outrider that you’ve seen before, the librarian who apparently was incredibly intimidating when you don’t return books, and even Jean, the acting grand master. You’ve heard about all of them, your curiosity causing you ask around for stories.

The first time you met any of them was on a sunny day, not unlike any other. You were out on the trail, foraging mushrooms as per Sara’s request, when you ran into a suspicious looking group of hilichurls. The odd creatures were entranced by an odd looking sigil on the ground that glowed a faint purple.

You had chosen to mentally mark where you were and turn back to go to town and report it. Hilichurls close to town was already a safety hazard, but them acting the way they were felt off and made a pit of worry grow in your stomach.

The guards at the doors of the Knights of Favonios Headquarters had questioned what you needed when you ran up, and you explained the situation, requesting to speak to Jean if possible.

Guilt ate at you when you pushed despite them telling you she was busy with work already. “I really would like to speak to her directly,” you told them.

They were going to shut you down again, but from behind them the door opened and out came an infamous face.

Of the many people you’d been told about, the Cavalry Captain was among them. Kaeya was very popular in town, apparently appeared at the tavern on most nights to chat with the townspeople. There was a lot of mystery shrouding him and his backstory but despite that he was a favorite of many people.

He looked as he’s been described to you, with dark hair and tanned skin, one eye covered with a black eye patch. His bare eye, beautiful and piercing blue met yours and you looked away immediately, feeling as though you were seeing a myth in the flesh.

“Like I said,” your eyes, probably a little wide from seeing the captain, fell back to the two guards you’d been talking to. “I think it’s a good idea if I talked to Jean directly.”

You hadn’t meant to alert Kaeya as he was leaving the Knights Headquarters but he seemed to hear, voicing out an “is everything okay?” as he approached the three of you.

“I’m not trying to be any trouble,” you tell him once the situation was explained.

He watched you shrink slightly under his gaze, pretty eyes staring up at him - and shook his head. “It’s understandable to want to report something like that immediately. I can take you to her.”

Obviously he had some sort of authority over the guarding knights because they had nothing to say about that, stepping back to their spots on either side of the stone stairs leading to the building.

You mentally let out a breath and nodded up at the blue haired male, thanking him quietly and apologizing again for making a fuss.

“Come on now,” he smiled down at you, calming your nerves a bit. “Stop apologizing for trying to keep Mondstadt safe. If anything we should be apologizing to you for not catching it before you did.”

The short walk inside the Knights Headquarters was quiet, and you took the few silent moments as a chance to get a better look at Kaeya. It was weird seeing him in front of you after only hearing about him for so long.

His clothes were much different from the other knights, from the fur on the shoulder to the color of the clothing. A small blue glowing charm hung from the side of his hip - that’s right, he had a vision.

When he opened the door to Jean’s office, you caught sight of his fingers that peaked out of dark gloves. Fingerless gloves?

“Are you going to come inside?”

Oh no, you weren’t standing here gawking at his hands, were you? You blinked at him like a deer in headlights and you wanted to melt into the floor at the amusement written on his face.

You ducked your head in embarrassment, slipping passed him silently.

Your shame was short lived, however, when you stepped into the room and saw Jean. Now you knew for a fact awe was visible on your face. It’s not every day that you get to see the grand acting master herself.

She was kind and genuinely concerned about you after you ran through the scene you saw for a third time in that day. The abyss order have been causing some trouble for the knights and they had been trying to track down more about them and their plans. What you saw didn’t give away much but Jean reiterated that it was an important bit of information and she thanked you for coming to her for it.

You preened at that, glad you could be of help to her.

Before you left, she thanked you again and assured you that you didn’t need to worry, the knights would take care of it.

And that was the end of it. Nothing else regarding that situation happened and life returned to normal.

The next time you ran into one of them it was at The Good Hunter. You were chatting with Sara while waiting for your food to finish cooking when a very familiar pair on hands came to lean against the counter you ordered at, with a very familiar voice accompanying them.

“I’ve been wondering about you,” Kaeya muses.

Wondering about you? You had to take a moment to process that, forcing out a small “Why?” to which he didn’t respond.

“Eat with me,” he responds instead, smiling at you and he is nice and a knight so who are you to decline.

So, you two eat together. He’s just as charming as people have mentioned, voice smooth and easy to listen to. By your wonder, he tells you in more detail about the Knights of Favonius, and you soak up his words like a sponge.

He is able to describe specific stories that you didn’t otherwise know about, along with other people that you hadn’t heard much about.

You find it fascinating and ask more specific questions - about visions. He answers every inquiry thats thrown at him, about his own cryo power and that of others in Mondstadt.

“Does the fingerless gloves have something to do with your element?” You ask him, and he laughs lightly at you.

“You like them, huh?”

Does he remember your lingering gaze on his hands at your last meeting? God, that’s mortifying. You hadn’t meant it to be a weird question.

When you gape at him, sputtering and trying to grasp a suitable response, he reaches out and taps a finger on the underside of your chin. “Cute,” he murmurs, before taking his leave, claiming he has work he should go attend to.

You stare at him while he leaves, reeling from his actions.

Things move more quickly after that.

You don’t know who really started it, but Kaeya’s hands become somewhat of a teasing point. It wasn’t a serious attraction at first but now his hands are the first thing your gaze catches on.

In turn, he’ll tease you for it, brushing the back of his knuckles against you or tapping a fingertip on you like he did that first time.

It boiled over one day in the Knights Library, you alongside him, curiously looking at all the different titles that were offered. Kaeya reaches out to grab a book and your eyes zero in on his hands.

Bare hands.

He wasn’t wearing those gloves today, skin fully on display and that shouldn’t be as important as it is but there you are, staring at them.

“You’re not-“

He has to know. Theres no way he accidentally forgot to wear them on a day he would be with you. Another tease, definitely.

“My gloves? Didn’t think you’d notice something like that.” Oh, he knows.

Cocky as ever, he taps his finger into your bottom lip - as he has before - and your mouth parts in response. An invitation.

The taste of clean skin bursts on your tastebuds, two of his fingers sliding inside.

“Ah, I knew it,” he murmurs, moving so you were situated in the corner of the wall and bookshelf, his body shadowing yours to shield you from any possible onlookers.

Your knees buckle from under you when he presses down onto your tongue, a whimper sounding from your throat.

“Look at you,” he coos, head leaning in so his lips brush against your ear. “How was I supposed to hold myself back when you want this so bad?”

Your hands find purchase on his biceps, gripping them to ground yourself while he rubs the pads of his fingers against your tongue. Saliva pools and threatens to spill over your lip, and Kaeya knows it, fingers moving so that it drips down out of your mouth and onto your chin.

“You know,” he starts again, fingers sinking deeper into your mouth as his other spare hand wraps loosely around your waist. “If you’re so good like this I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I fuck you.”

Another noise leaves you, fingers digging into his arms. Your head knocks back into the wall right behind you and your eyes flutter.

You feel lucky that you cant speak because you know you wouldn’t be able to trust yourself to not beg him to fuck you right here in the library.

It feels filthy, the drool on your chin and his breath against the side of your face while he tells you these things. You felt hot and if your eyes were opened your pupils would be blown out.

“You’ll have to come see me some time, so I can really take you apart with my fingers.”

[iwadori]

written by @ohajime

Genre: angst

Warnings: mention of death, gangs

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Forbidden love turns to pure hatred when Kuroo Tetsurou abandons you, scorned and pregnant, to choose his gang over you, and the long-standing rivalry your families have with each other doesn't end with you and Kuroo, only brewing the hatred you already have.

[series masterlist]

previous | 01 - I’m going to get her back | next

When you left Kuroo alone and devastated that day, he realized he messed up big time. He knew you'd never return, given your obstinate character, which he was all too familiar with. He understood there was no turning back from that moment on; nothing would ever be the same again. No more passionately expressing your dreams with one another, no more going on brief small trips because you couldn't stay put in your position, he would get to feel you comb your fingers through his hair and revel in your soft touch; one that offered him an unfathomable peace. However, you and Kuroo were similar in that he, too, was obstinate, which meant he would not back down from his remarks.

So he tried everything he could. He became the leader of his gang, exactly as he promised his father, and forgot about his history with you for his and your sake. It goes without saying that he grew into a different guy throughout that period.

Despite the fact that he was considered as a stone cold individual inside his inner circle, constantly keeping everything in control with a straight attitude, everyone could see how his acts were off; more impulsive and demanding. Kenma Kozume, like his most trusted colleagues, his right-hand man and best buddy, couldn't pinpoint the cause. Many people were perplexed by it. All Kenma could do was hope that he would get better, that this unknown difficult moment would soon be over.

During that time, several issues developed. They descended like waterfalls, fiercely and heavily. They didn't stop; instead, they created a large ocean, causing Kuroo a headache. Everything got more aggressive, so he had to be more nimble, but stress and fury were eating him up, and he didn't know how long he could keep himself from cracking. It made him wonder if the decision he made was the correct one.

Since then, five years have gone; the difficult period has not abated; rather, it has become more tolerable, almost as if it were second nature. Despite what Kenma hoped, Kuroo's hostile and demanding attitude was a permanent shift, although, like their difficulties, it became acceptable. Kuroo was a bitter man behind closed doors, hidden from his gang's probing eyes, his brain still reminding him of you wherever he went. He expected to have seen or heard anything about you by now.

Oh, how wrong he was. You managed to stay radio silent. Kuroo had to congratulate you on that, with a status like yours, he believed news about you was bound to reach his ears.

He underestimated you.

Not just you, but all news about your gang has vanished. It seems as though your disappearance freed them from any ties they had with his group. From time to time, he pondered if he should swallow his pride and go question your pals about your whereabouts. But he couldn't. Not when it would simply add to the confusion and inquiries.

So he kept hoping to hear your name leave the lips of those around him, any small clue as to where he could find you. He imagined himself laying on his bed with you against his chest, drawing random patterns and having strange conversations. He pondered what would have occurred if he had never accepted his father's offer in the first place; how life would be if you were still at his side.

However, time can turn any man bitter, and this is exactly what happened to Kuroo. He was no longer certain that if you ever returned, he could reclaim you. How could you leave him speechless about you? How dare you make him fantasize about all the heinous things that may have happened to you, which plague his sleep every night? He set out to hurt you. Make you experience the anguish he felt, and that he still feels, as a result of your disappearance. He was irritated that you never gave him an opportunity to explain. You shattered his heart into fragments that could never be repaired or regained by anyone else's hands; only yours.

Did you feel any regret, as he did? Were you so disgusted with him that you wanted him to completely obliterate your existence? Was everything he envisioned a lie?

Despite the fact that he desired retaliation from you, he was unable to do so. Not when he had no idea where you were. He considered calling your family and demanding your location, but you were obviously cruel enough to even ghost your own parents. Leave them with no information about you.

He was adamant on portraying you as a heartless woman in his head, but he knew you were never one who had a close relationship with your parents. He was the only person you had ever allowed inside your heart. He used to be proud of it, but now he's not so sure it's a good thing.

His father contacted him with some thoughts about you and your group. He planned to demolish your family once and for all, erasing the gang's existence entirely, but Kuroo always fought back. What were your odds of returning if your group was gone? If he obeyed his father's demands, there was a good possibility he'd never see you again; it was a gamble he couldn't afford.

He pondered what to do for days and nights. Kuroo's father had high expectations for him, and he needed to find a way to please him or risk being booted out of the family. It took him a long time to come to an appropriate conclusion that would please both him and his father.

He would kill your father, weaken your gang, and give you an irresistible reason to return home.

It benefits both sides.

Kuroo and Kenma were drinking at their customary spot and discussing their future plans. They were seated in a separate area to ensure their privacy (Being a gang leader had it perks). Normally, Kuroo would be the one to take Kenma out to rest, but this time it was the opposite, and not to relax, but to discuss their intentions. “There are far better paths we can take, Kuroo; are you sure about this?”

Kuroo had told Kenma about his plot with your father, and it was clear how upset he was. Kenma was a meticulous guy who preferred plans with a certain conclusion, which was why he was Kuroo's right-hand man in the first place. He minimized the dangers and ensured success. Nonetheless, this was the one choice he would not allow Kenma modify.

“Kozume, my decision is final.”

“I understand, however you need to consider the outcomes of it–”

“It’d be good if you remembered who runs this gang, Kenma .”

At the sound of his first name, Kenma straightened in his seat, releasing a heavy sigh now that he understands how desperate his friend is. “Alright, Kuroo. At least let us plan it more–”

Kuroo interrupted Kenma again, “No. Tell the boys we’re doing it today.” A silence befalled around them, the atmosphere tense, and limits reached. Kenma was trying his best to play it off by scrolling through his phone while he was internally losing it. Kuroo’s idea was preposterous, unbelievable, and simply too risky; one that could determine their future.

“Are you sure, Kuroo?” He asked, looking up at the mob boss, genuinely questioning his motives. Kenma wondered how he could change his mind.

“Don’t question my instructions, just do it.” Came his reply. Kuroo stood up from his seat ready to leave the room.

“But this could start a war,” Kenma stood up as well, grabbing a hold of Kuroo’s arm to keep him in his place, “and we don’t even know if Y/N will come back-”

Kuroo flinched when he heard your name. He seemed to have misjudged his closest friend's capacity to identify anything. However, in the end, it was for this reason why he rose so far in their group. He was perceptive, perhaps a little too perceptive; one look into his golden-like orbs could tell him everything about you. But now that he understood, there was no need for him to hide behind the pretext of pleasing his father.

“Perhaps, yes. But don’t think of it that much. If we kill her father, their gang won’t survive unless she comes back. That benefits both me and my father. He gets the pleasure of beating them, and I finally get to see her. It’s unavoidable. Catch my gist?” A smirk formed on his face while talking, looking down at Kenma with those mischievous eyes of his.

Kenma was unable to react. He knew his closest buddy was once madly in love with you, but he had no idea he'd go to such lengths to get you back. He didn't want to refute further because Kuroo seemed to have made up his mind. He mentally shook his head; he knew Kuroo couldn't be stopped if he wanted something; he only prayed it didn't damage them in the process.

Kenma would frequently thank the gods that he was single. Love was a curse he did not wish to bear.

AN: another big thanks to @/satorinnie for helping me out with this and elevating the chapter since you’re so amazing and ilysm bro...thansk thanks thanks and thanks @mattsunbae for beta reading this for me ik you love me.

And this is from Kuroos perspective I know this may seem boring but stick with me people it’ll get better soon I promise! So I hope to hear your thoughts on it (come in my inbox to talk)<3

The players club taglist[1][bold can’t be tagged]: @teesumu @risjime @joyaphoria @nxvacaine @mysterystarz @soft-angel-clouds @tooru-luvs @sugurus-princess @dazaisfavgf @si4am @ebiharachan @candybabey @bluesweetpink @wonhomarshmallow @certifiedhaikyuusimp @stinkita @panini @mikasbloodbag @lilith412426 @stffychn @ezriwel @soggypp @atsukuroo @pluviophilefangirl @scentedflower @crapimahuman @mariyeahh @elianetsantana @ellesalazar @bakugouswh0r3 @ley-writes @whorefornoodles @avatarkanemi @boosyboo9206 @homeorbust @kitacharm @rinschuupet @schleepyflocci @moonlightaangel @curved-horizont @roseestuosity @color-me-petty @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @hhmnvm @shadyjinyoung @sakusasbitch @xogiaaa @iampotat @coconut-dreamz @dancing-with-dinosaurs @omiikeii @iworshipyelena @yomanitsgonnabehee @random-734 @errorishere @vinzx @flushphoria [join the taglist here]

[nxtsnw]

P1: Please could it be a mikey oneshot leaving a male reader; I leave it days before the dissolution of Touman with the excuse of "I like another person more, I don't love you anymore and I don't want to see you again" it may be that I don't want to hurt him or something like that, in the end ReaderMale! he takes it badly at first but over time he recovers and becomes a famous Idol that is everywhere, not only is an Idol but has a presence in the underworld (something +

°Mikey x Male reader°

plot: After the breakup between Mikey and MaleReader, their two paths split. The reader, after an unexpected glow-up and after both have apparently moved on, meet again, Mickey as the leader of the Bonten and the reader as a very famous idol.

author note: I also read the pt.2! I apologize if I changed it slightly, I did everything possible to respect it. Thank you for the request!

word count: 1k

warning: angst, break up

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

The weather that day was so hot, but it wasn't a pleasant heat, it was quite the opposite. Y/n was going to meet Mikey, his boyfriend for a year now. He noticed his bright blonde hair from afar so he decided to run up to him and hug him from behind.

"Heyy Mikey" he yelled.

"mh" he replied looking at him from top to bottom.

"What happens?"

"I leave you," he said with that a weird calm and his eyes staring at him and waiting for a reaction.

"Ahaha this is funny" answered y/n.

"I'm not kidding, it's over between us, I'm no longer in love with you. I'm sorry, but it's time for me to open a new chapter in my life."

A slight shiver ran down the y/n back.

"Wait, did I do something wrong?"

"No, I already told you, I'm not in love with you anymore."

How was it possible? Why should he leave him like this?.

He could still feel the blond's gaze on him and didn't dare to raise his head. He took a deep breath and mentally slapped himself.

"Goodbye then." he continued without expressing any kind of emotion.

"Goodbye."

So that completely unexpected conversation ended. And for y/n began one of the hardest times ever. Even just to realize what had happened took him several weeks(maybe months), which were lived in a very bad way by the boy.

Acceptance was a hard thing and just as he was returning to the bad habit of smoking he was stopped by a strange man.

“Wait for a second please, don't quit smoking that cigarette. And please, let me take some pictures of you. "

Surprised and scared, the boy decided to walk away.

"Wait up! Believe me, I'm (his name and his surname), a famous photographer ”he continued showing him a tag that confirmed his previous words.

"Please, just a photo?" and so the boy agreed.

So the photo was taken and the photographer came over to show it to him.

At first glance, not even the same y/n could be recognized, he seemed so different from the last time he had seriously looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn't see himself in that photo he had just taken.

"When I became like that?..." he spoke aloud when he was still deep in his thoughts. So much so that the photographer looked at him with a bewildered face.

“Don't like the photo? I'm sorry. Did I make you feel uncomfortable?" The boy shook his head no.

“Oh thank god, I also wanted to ask if you would give me permission to publish this photo on my new photo album due out next month,” he asked, clasping his hands. After he noticed the boy's troubled expression, he continued saying: "You can also receive money and be contacted later by different modeling agencies, I think you have this potential."

A job and some money would not have been bad .. the young man accepted and the two traded their phone number.

But before he could think of anything else, he remembered his change in physical appearance. He immediately went home to look in the mirror. In the street, while he ran, he saw himself in a shop window, he noticed the changes in the body.

They weren't that obvious, but to him, it felt so different, developed. The more he looked at himself the more he was convinced of how much prettier he had become.

Self-conviction? Had he had the famous post-breakup glow-up without realizing it? Was it possible? Was there any entity unknown to him involved?

Arriving at random he noticed even the smallest details of his face, had he always been this attractive?

Thanks to that funny meeting were the beginning of a new life for the boy.

After the photographer's album began to be printed, he noticed his inbox filled with inquiries from various fashion agencies.

They just asked him for a meeting to see if they could hire him, and reading the pay he didn't think twice about accepting.

He came from the first agency that contacted him, and after a short interview, he was hired. It was all happening so fast, the long time after parting with Mikey seemed to have almost vanished from the boy's mind.

In no time at all, he began to have great success in many magazines, and his fandom began to grow. Real people stopped him on the street to ask him for a photo and how beautiful he was. The agencies organized real meetings for the boy's fans.

He met some of his old school friends (with whom he had had some bullying problems) who didn't recognize him in the least...

Everyone had begun to love and idolize him. The creepy and weird thing is that it all happened within 6 months, all that fast? How was that possible? Often y/n stopped to wonder how it was possible, and always tried to find out how it could have happened, but he never found anything rational. ( I'm so sorry, I have never read "lookism" yet, I tried my best to find information <3)

And so winter had arrived, the cold now surrounded him.

He had just finished his shift at the agency and had decided to go get a hot chocolate in his trusted bar. As soon as he entered he noticed a new boy, he was tall with green eyes and dark hair he was really cute.

The boy had been working in that bar for a short time, and it was he who served him. Along with his hot chocolate, he gave to him a note with his phone number, hoping that y/n would contact him.

So that's what he did, he had finally overcome the breakup with Mikey, he was finally ready to start a new life, and finally sentimentally too.

Months and years go by. The relationship between the two boys seems to have improved and thanks to his work he becomes more and more famous. A real Idol, with a little secret, he hadn't yet explained the change that had radically changed his life.

Did some divinity have anything to do with it?

Because of his job he had not been allowed to have a boyfriend, so he had invented and hired him as a "personal bodyguard", so he was able to find an excuse to spend more time with his boyfriend.

They were walking arm in arm under light snow when he saw what he never wanted to see.

There was Mikey. That Mikey. He was sitting on a bench and always kept his lost gaze on some buildings. Was he there on purpose or for simple deals?

He had a hard time recognizing him, Mikey had cut his hair even though he still had that different sheen, but it looked just fine. He was thin and pale in the face, but the most noticeable thing was two dark circles under his eyes that made him look more tired and almost sick.

After a while, Mikey turned to his side.

"Look, let's go if we change our way," he asked his boyfriend.

"Um okay, but what's going on?"

"Nothing, don't worry..." but at that moment he realized that he could no longer escape. He had long since overcome that breakup.

"We can continue from here too," he continued, smiling and taking his boyfriend by the hand.

Meanwhile, a tall pink-haired boy had caught up with Mikey and they were heading in the direction of y/n.

He seemed to be going smoothly until the two ex-boyfriends stopped at the same time.

"Hi Mikey"

No reply.

"Now pretend you don't even know me eh"

Mikey looked up, but this time, in addition to the usual air of defiance, he looked seriously surprised, almost scared?

"Hi y/n, how long has it been?"

But who could know him better than y/n? They had been together for a year, by now he knew that expression perfectly. He knew that at that moment Mikey was confused but he didn't want to show it.

How were they supposed to react?

That question was creeping into both of them, but neither of them seemed able to react.

Did he get over it? What had happened all that time? And who were the new respective partners?

For these questions it will still take some time to get answers and who knows if they will ever have them ;)

I hope you'll like it<3

[daisychainsinthespring]

The Snowball Effect.

As a child Darcy Elizabeth Lewis had a Bucky Bear. With its soft brown fur, and navy blue Howling Commandos jacket the bear had quickly become her favourite toy. Her parents thought this adorable, and so never questioned Darcy's complete attachment to said comfort object.

As a teen Darcy Elizabeth Lewis had kept the Bucky Bear, now placed proudly on one of the many bookshelves in her bedroom. Upon learning of the man behind the bear (corporations were behind many evil things, but whoever thought up the idea of making a bear modelled on the ultimate forties heartthrob turned hero deserved a god damn raise in her mind), promptly had her first celebrity crush. At sleepovers Darcy and her friends would sit around in a circle, on their sleeping bags, and share their various fantasies (which only became more realistic with age). Darcy mentioned her affinity for one James “Bucky” Barnes, and her friends latched on to it with a crazed sort of glee that would be concerning from almost anyone else. From that point on Darcy, at random moments throughout the year, received varying levels of increasingly inappropriate Bucky Barnes themed merch, and she (shamelessly) loved it all.

As an intern (not a real adult yet, because no thank you, responsibilities can stay in the far off and distant future) Darcy Elizabeth Lewis realised her minor obsession with a decidedly not dead war hero may be an issue. With Jane having recently moved her lab to Stark Tower, where said hero turned assassin lived, and her childhood friends being aware of said relocation she was worried. The gift giving had only increased in intensity and explicitness with age, and Darcy knew her friends would be having a field day. There was also the fact that despite her move having taken place three months ago, she had yet to receive a single piece of Bucky themed memorabilia. With this in mind Darcy did her best to avoid Sergeant Barnes, which was admittedly not a hard task to accomplish, an intern had little business with an avenger after all. In truth she had only met Sargent “call me James, dollface” Barnes once, when Jane and her had just moved in and Thor was recalling his teammates with stories of his lady and lightning sister. The way he looked her over with his intense ice blue eyes should have been illegal. It was like all of her young adult fantasies coming true at once, and Darcy was fairly certain this had been written all over her face. Upon seeing his utterly sinful smirk slide into place, Darcy knew she had been made. So yes, since that first embarrassing meeting with Sargent Barnes, sex god extraordinaire, she had avoided him like the plague and kept one eye open for suspicious packages from not so well intentioned friends.

As a Stark employee (which was really just a glorified intern with a fancy credit card because Tony didn’t know how to express emotion), Darcy Elizabeth Lewis had yet to receive a single gift from her friends. She had crossed the line from scared to offended. They had missed her birthday for heaven's sake! That never happened. Darcy was also becoming increasingly aware of a shadow that had taken to following her around the tower. The only reason she knew this feeling was not the result of too many science benders (and was in fact real) was because said shadow had also taken to gifting her breakfast on her little wooden desk in the corner of Jane’s lab. She was not going to look a caramel cloud macchiato with a butter croissant in the mouth, thank you very much. Jane was under the impression that this shadow was a secret admirer. Darcy wanted Jane to shut up and stop trying to hook her up with a boyfriend just because she felt bad that Darcy wasn’t getting any while she had a literal God to come home to every night. She had continued to avoid Bucky like the plague, even though he had been quite persistent in the first few months of her living at the tower. He had eventually left her alone, seemingly having given up. Darcy was still unsure of what exactly had led to his interest in her at all, she was just Jane’s gofer, not a superhero or superbrain in her own right. Things had been going well enough, that of course they had to eventually go wrong, and on a Monday no less. Darcy had been missing her mail for long enough, and had decided to go down to the mailroom on her break to see what was the what. Upon entering said room she was promptly told by the nice people working down there that mail for Avengers and Avengers related personnel (which she sadly fell under the umbrella of) was looked over by one James Buchanan Barnes before being allowed to be delivered. Upon further stunned inquiry she was also told that this was another way Sargent Sexy was able to ensure the safety of the tower and its inhabitants (which for a veteran and ex prisoner of war did make some sense). Darcy shuffled back to the labs in a state of rising mortification, her head bent in her phone trying to ignore the crushing sense of knowing exactly what had happened. She did not notice the man in front of her, not until she bumped into him that is. A silver hand had reached out to steady her and Darcy took in a breath when she realised who she had bumped in to. She looked up into his eyes and (in typical Darcy fashion) said the first thing that came to mind, “So funny story, it would seem that you’re in charge of checking over mail for us Avengers adjacent folks, and I’ve been missing said mail since I came to this tower. You don’t really have that big a thing for ladies underwear do you? I mean hey, if you do no judgement here, just get your own dude.”.

Bucky looked down at her for a minute, his gaze turning damn near predatory, and Darcy had the distinct impression that she had fallen into some sort of trap (which, knowing of The Winter Soldier wasn’t outside her realm of possibility), “Well doll,” he drawled in that edible Brooklyn accent of his, “now that you mention it I do. Especially when it comes to lingerie fashioned after my own old uniform. Have to admit I’ve been wanting you to model it for me for some months now”.

Darcy was fairly certain her brain had finally broken. The James Barnes was not standing in front of her in fucking Stark Tower of all places, practically propositioning her. “I, uhm, what?” she said, cheeks beginning to resemble her cherry red sweater.

Bucky only laughed, using his arm to bring her flush against his body “Will you model it for me? I’d love to see what it looks like on you. Although I will admit that I’m even more interested in seeing what it looks like off of you, on my bedroom floor. But I was raised in the thirties, you know, I have to treat a lady right. Would you settle for dinner and the promise of future modelling opportunities?”.

Darcy, having finally regained her speech capabilities, brought herself up to his ear and whispered an affirmative that had even the great Winter Sexbot blushing.

As a newly married woman, Darcy Elizabeth Lewis-Barnes was completely and incandescently happy. This may be down to the honeymoon on one of the many private islands owned by one Tony Stark, or the many orgasms her new husband had managed to pull out of her. Darcy wasn’t one to dwell.

[guqin-and-flute]

I've got this very important question, because you are making the best ratings I've ever seen. 10/10 So... Who sings/plays the best lullabies?

[Ahh, thank you! OH!! LOVE THIS IDEA YES this is very important. I’m going to add in what their voices are like because I’m a singer and I want to. This is less from the kids POV and just how I headcanon it, though the kids help with the scoring]

[More Than Just] Uncle Rankings

Jin Zixuan: His family wasn’t...big on lullabies. Or music. Or bedtime routines. Or creating memories together. He got a few songs from various nannies, but it was never anything super consistent that got carried over for him to use in fatherhood. It makes him very...uncomfortable to sing and he can’t quite put his finger on why. Would be a salvageable, mellow tenor if he tried--which he doesn’t. It doesn’t bother the Jin kids at all, they’ve got lots of other musical relatives! Their dad tells the best stories anyway.  0/10 Does Not Compute

Jiang Yanli: She likes to hum idly when cooking or playing with the kids, knows little Teaching Songs for different lessons and animal songs. Sings happily to any of the permutation of children are currently under her roof--niblings and all. She has a vast library of songs that she knows and they’re different from the ones that the nannies or the Lan might sing because she’s from Yunmeng. Sometimes, she gets choked up in the middle of one and has to stop (and maybe not sing it again) because it was one of Wuxian’s childhood favorites. Soft, gentle 1st soprano, not a lot of vibrato. Sings from the heart and is very comfortable with it. 10/10 Songbird Extraordinaire, Makes Up For Unmusical Husband

Jin Guangyao: Will hum or half sing under his breath when he braids his loved ones’ hair, when he’s not really thinking about it. Strangely reticent to sing if people are just looking at him; it feels too honest and vulnerable. If the lamps are dim or if A-Fu is tucked to his chest or the boys have their eyes closed, he will do it. Knows some of the same songs that Yanli does, though many seem to be more melancholic and about longing. One song is the boy’s favorite, because he can fit their names into it--a song about being brave and being smart and becoming all you’re meant to be. A-Fu ponders as he grows older and learns more about music, that the lines don’t quite rhyme like they’re supposed to--almost like there’s a different name that’s supposed to be there. Melodic, clear tenor, refined and controlled. 10/10 A Mother’s Musical Legacy Lovingly Passed On

Lan Xichen: Will use music as a way to soothe, entertain, educate, focus, you name it. Sings, hums, plays the flute and guqin. Set out to learn a few of those Teaching Songs from Yanli once he became a parent, knows quite a few lullabies from his mother, and has a practically perfect memory for songs--if he hears them once or twice, he now knows them forever. Will sing for any of the children when they ask, but is humble as a good Lan is about actually Performing for anyone outside his family. Many an evening ended with a pile of children being carefully divvied out to their guardians from his lap, sides and general vicinity after he patiently sang them to sleep. Warm, husky baritone, genuine and quietly captivating. 10/10 Melatonin In Musical Form

Lan Wangji: Everyone knows about the musical proficiency of the Lan and of the Twin Jades in particular. What everyone might not know is that Lan Wangji will sing his son to bed every night in a soft, low baritone/upper bass. It’s one of the things that begins to set A-Fu at ease with him early on when he starts to stay the night, occasionally, because he can hear the affection in his voice that his face doesn’t quite convey. He will hum as he rocks them if they are upset or scared from a nightmare and frequently plays the guqin as a backdrop to their play times. Both A-Fu and A-Yuan can hum Inquiry long before they know its name. Also has a nearly perfect audio memory. 9/10 Musical Messages On Demand

Lan Qiren: Does not know the same lullabies as his nephews--they came from their mother. Does NOT sing. This makes A-Fu disgruntled, though he accepts gentle, traditional Gusu songs from the guqin in the next room as a substitute to fall asleep to whenever he has to stay over. 3/10 That’s Not What I Asked For But Fine, I Guess

Nie Mingjue: More of a hummer than a singer, a little tone deaf if you ask him to sing with an instrument, but his voice is not bad, just unpracticed. Bass, kind of gravelly. Tends to make up repetitive little runs that are more of a soothing distraction than a song he knows, as he doesn’t have an ear for them. Game to make up nonsense songs when A-Fu was younger and wanted a lullaby about rabbits when he was at the Unclean Realm--as he didn’t actually know a song like that, he made it up on the spot. It was basically just speaking rhythmically with very imaginative words; ‘Rabbit, rabbit, ra-ra-rabbit, rabbit, rabbit, hop hop hop.’ Hey, the kid fell asleep, so it couldn’t have been that bad. 4/10 A Valiant Attempt Was Made

Nie Huaisang: Loves singing! The only drawback is that he wants to sing what he wants and when it’s vetoed, doesn’t really have the patience to argue, just says, ‘Okay! Good night, then!’ Usually likes ballads or tragic love songs that A-Fu and A-Ling are bored stiff by. A-Yuan, on the other hand, listens intently and asks questions about them after, like, ‘Did they ever see each other again?’ And that’s the story of how Huaisang made him cry at bedtime because, no, she stayed a statue for the rest of time and he wept on her every day until her face was worn off from the river of his tears. Oops. Respectable tenor with reasonable vibrato, sounds much like his speaking voice. 5.5/10 Fun and Educational, If You Like That Sort of Thing

Jiang Cheng: Nope. He does not sing. Will not do it. Ever. Could be a strong, driven tenor. But aggressively isn’t. 0/10 You Didn’t Even Try

MianMian: Knows songs from all over, but not many lullabies. Sings story songs sort of like Huaisang but they tend to be more energetic and less melancholy and so are overall received much more enthusiastically. She rarely is around for bedtime, even when she visits, but she can be coaxed into a song or two before the bedtime routine is started with parents/aunts/uncles. Strong mezzo-soprano, energetic and without frills. 7/10 Now That’s A Story I Can Get Into!

Wei Wuxian: Comes in kind of late for the kids wanting lullabies from him, but he knows a few drinking songs he can share and definitely knows a few rude songs that he is happy to sing for them--maybe a little sooner than their parents might appreciate. Is also the type to sing little nonsense songs about things that are happening around them, whether it’s teasing someone or just because he’s bored and wants the world to know he is chopping up potatoes. Is actually pretty skilled at just playing Chenqing like a regular flute as well and has started impromptu child dance parties on more than one occasion. His voice is solid, lower range tenor that likes to belt instead of croon. 8/10 Music Man--76 Chenqings Led The Big Parade

Wen Ning: Like Wei Wuxian, comes in too late for comforting songs and isn’t honestly that much of a singer. Will hum under his breath absentmindedly as he does things with his hands, but they aren’t really songs as much as random bunches of notes and jumps if anyone catches him doing it. The kids don’t really need him to be a good singer--they like him for other things! Like how he can crush rocks with his bare hands or toss them really high in the air! Mid-range tenor, not too confident or supported but not unpleasant. 3/10 It’s Just Not His Thing, And That’s Okay

[razieltwelve]

My Origin Story

I’m often asked about how I got into self-publishing. It’s something I’ve talked about in previous posts, but I want to talk about it again. It’s been years since I started, and I think time has given me something of a different perspective.

I’ve wanted to be a writer for a long time. However, I first began to take my writing more seriously in high school. I started posting my writing on the internet under various pseudonyms, and I gradually honed my skills. I won’t say I was good back then, but I steadily became less horrible. It still wasn’t something I showed to people I knew in my everyday life, not even to my family. My writing was, in my opinion, still too rough and raw to present to others, except via the anonymity of the internet.

Fast forward to university. I continued to improve my writing as best I could. In fact, I devoted most of my spare time to writing. It was at this point that I began to write fan fiction. Now, I can already tell what some of you are thinking, but writing fan fiction was honestly the best decision I could have made at the time. Fan communities are wonderful things. You don’t have to be the best writer to be welcomed, and you can get access to a far larger amount of critique and advice than you would get as some random lone writer on the internet.

My writing improved markedly during this time since I was now getting regular feedback. Now, obviously, it’s true that most fan fiction readers aren’t professional writers or critics. Sometimes, all you get is “I like the bit where people got stabbed”. Yet amongst all of the one word reviews, random hate messages, and simple but welcome words of encouragement, you do meet people who are genuinely interested in helping you improve. I’m talking about detailed reviews that can be pages long, covering everything from sentence construction to overarching plot critiques.

In my Honours year, I finished my first novel. Before you ask, it’s not something that I’ve published although I do intend to go back and fix it up one day. What mattered wasn’t how good it was. No. What mattered was that I actually finished a novel-length story. It was a bit of mess at times, but it was 100,000 words of original fiction. Sure, it wasn’t great, but it was mine. I actually printed it out and had it bound in a manner similar to my Honours thesis.

During my PhD years, I continued to write, and I began to submit my short stories to fiction magazines while sending out inquiry letters to agents and publishers about my longer stories. Over the four years of my PhD I wrote three novels and many short stories.

And this is where my origin story takes a bit of a dark turn.

Do you want to know how many short stories I got published?

Zero.

Do you want to know how much interest I got from publishers and agents about my longer stories?

Zero.

That’s right. I got absolutely zero interest from anyone about my original fiction.

That’s not a good feeling, let me tell you. It can be very disheartening. I might have thrown myself into fan fiction with a bit more enthusiasm then because at least there, in those communities, people liked what I wrote. Despite all the rejections from publishers and agents, I could at least say that in certain communities, my writing was well-loved and respected.

After bashing my head into the proverbial wall for a couple of years, I began to look into self-publishing. If my writing was genuinely good, then surely I’d be able to sell at least a few copies if I self-published. I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself and predict best-seller status or anything, but I had to be able to sell something, right?

I spent the next few months studying the market and learning how to make eBooks and design covers. Finally, I was ready. The very first book I self-published was The Last Huntress. That book was a labour of love. I pored over every sentence. I obsessed about the characters and the setting. I promoted it as best I could via the communities I was a part of, and then I sat back and waited for the magic to happen.

That last part, the bit about the magic? That was sarcasm.

There was no magic.

In that first month, I sold something like 17 copies.

All told, that translated to around $6.50 for me.

Staring at that result was not the happiest moment of my life. I did the mental arithmetic. Even if I increased my sales a hundred fold, it still wouldn’t be enough for me to make a living via writing. Heck, I could increase my sales three hundred fold and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Luckily, my years of unrelenting failure had somewhat numbed me to this latest failure. I decided to try again. The sequel and some other stories actually managed to do a little better, but that was hardly saying anything. It’s kind of like how if your leg has been cut off, you probably won’t feel the pain of a broken finger all that much.

After a full year of massive failure, my knee decided to explode because of course it did.

Cue surgery.

Cue misery.

Cue six weeks with my leg locked straight in a brace.

Sitting on my couch with my leg propped up beside me, I decided that I wanted to write something different. No more serious fantasy. No more high fantasy. My humorous fan fiction was what had first endeared me to readers, so maybe it was time to write something funny. Besides, it might take my mind off the fact that I had weeks of my leg in a brace to look forward to along with months of physiotherapy.

And don’t even me started on how awkward it was to have a bath or use the toilet.

I was throwing around ideas for what kind of story I could write when a scene came to mind: a necromancer being forced to beat his own wayward creation to death. All I really had was that one scene. It sounded pretty funny to me, so I started writing just to see where it would go.

Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Elf is what that idea became.

That book sold more copies in a month than all of my previous books combined had managed in a year. In fact, it managed to outdo all of my previous books combined several times over.

I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to see those numbers rolling in. It wasn’t a bestseller by any means, but it was the first time that I began to think that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t wasting my time, that maybe I could actually do this.

Things have changed a lot since then.

I’ve written more books, and although they’ve had varying degrees of success, they’ve all done so much better than I could ever have imagined during the doldrums of that first year. Humour, it seems, is what I’m best suited to, along with slice of life, and I’m more than happy to embrace that. I’ve even been lucky enough to have some of my books turned into audiobooks.

So there’s my origin story.

It’s easy, I think, to only remember the things that worked, but it’s important to remember the failures too. Writing isn’t an easy thing to do, especially if you’re aiming to make a living out of it. People can be cruel. You’re going to get reviews from people saying that you’re awful, that your story sucks, and that you should quit writing. But you’re also going to get reviews telling you that your story made someone’s day, that you made someone smile, that they can’t wait for the next book.

I wouldn’t be the writer I am today without those years of failure and disappointment. One of the most important qualities to have if you’re going to write humour is the ability to laugh at yourself and to make light of both the very strange and the very mundane. Moreover, a writer should be honest with themselves if they want to improve.

You can argue with reviewers. You can argue with critics. But you can’t argue with $6.50 worth of sales in a month.

I suppose that’s why I tend to be quite sympathetic to the underdog in my writing. I am one. I know what it’s like to put your heart into something and come up empty handed. I had that happen to me for years. I also know how important it is to celebrate the little wins and the small triumphs. Sometimes, they lead to bigger things, and sometimes, they’re all you have.

Well, that’s it. That’s my origin story.

It’s not exactly glorious. It’s filled with more than its fair share of failures. But it is my story. Mine. And that matters. Anyone who tells you that there isn’t some luck involved in the writing business is crazy. Luck is definitely a thing. But just being lucky isn’t enough. It takes years of hard work to become good enough to make the most of that luck, and it takes a certain level of idiocy/stubbornness to keep going despite everyone slamming doors in your face.

It’s a good thing, then, that I’m a lucky, stubborn idiot.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here or on Audible here. Also, just in case you missed it… The Sheep Dragon is out on Audible now! Get it here. It’s 26 and a half hours of fun, humour, and adventure!

[ddaenghoney]

my masterlist is in my blog description

Prompt: Kisses on the corner of the lips (thank you for requesting!)

Pairing: Veil!JiminxY/N (pre-Veil, my fic which you can find here xx)

Genre(s)/warning(s): Fluff, friends with benefits(though there’s nothing smutty in this lmao), mentions of alcohol/intoxication, y/n is a bit jealous and so is jimin lmao

wc: 3037

You recall what Jimin said at the beginning, “This way we don’t have to be obligated to each other.”

At that time you nodded immediately, completely accepting of his words because they gave sense to everything. You are both friends, but sometimes went beyond that in random, sultry rendezvous. After meeting at SoundWave, the two of you found yourselves getting along well, and with Jimin’s debut a project you were deeply involved with, it was only natural to grow closer. Though you never anticipated the connection to become physical, you didn’t want to change it.

Or rather, you do not want to stop, but something about your current predicament of watching him interact so closely with another coworker makes your throat uneasy. She smiles at whatever he says to her while Jimin talks casually to all of those around him at the table. He doesn’t go out of his way to give the girl particular attention, but the way that she bumped passed you as you all arrived in order to secure a guiding hand on his shoulder so that they would sit together told you enough about her intentions with him.

Jimin is not your boyfriend, and no one at the company recognizes either of you as anything more than close coworkers. He’s not allowed to date anyone, so of course everything is under wraps. There’s no reason to say anything about you and him to begin with-- there’s no reason for you to keep glancing from the table you sit at. No reason you should bite your tongue every time she puts a flirtatious hand on his arm.

“Y/N, I heard you’re going to help make our next title track.” A cheerful voice across from you breeches your ears, causing your shoulders to twitch you back to the conversation. You manage a smile easily enough, finding the male appearing quite happy with what he said, as the other member of his group who sits next to him, “You are, right? I want to learn from you about the writing process.”

“I don’t know if I’m good enough to be a teacher.” You take a sip of your soda, ignoring the nudge from Jihyo beside you whose eyes combat your dismissive attitude.

“As if. You could probably teach everyone at this table something.” She presses, earning a roll of your eyes. Grinning at your reaction, she turns back to the two across, “I’d even bet the song you make with her will end up charting for weeks.”

“I’ll do anything to help you then.” The male across you persists with a jovial curl of his lips. “You’re like the company’s golden songwriter.”  A loud affirmative from the member beside him causes a ripple with Jihyo and other people at the table to agree senselessly, even though some of them you’re sure are too intoxicated to know what the conversation is. “Cheers to our golden songwriter!”

You giggle at the dramatization of the whole thing, but reciprocate the energy by clinking your glass to his as those around do the same to each other and drink happily. You go ahead and down the rest of your mostly club soda beverage, setting it back down on the table with a small clunk and release a breath.

In the corner of your eyes, you catch Jimin’s head again and don’t stop yourself from angling your face to look. The return of his gaze startles you, making your hand squeeze your glass. The girl beside him remains, but she chats for the moment with someone else. Jimin’s focus forces the air in your chest to remain there as you sit somewhat transfixed and in wonder of what he wants. His lip quirks-- you think it does anyways; it’s difficult to discern from the distance. You wish he were across from you.

No; you shake your head at your thoughts, and return your eyes to your table. You take hold of some of the snacks on the table, tossing them into your mouth swiftly. It isn’t a good idea to dwell in those thoughts too long. In the first place, it should not matter to you where he is in the room, and you should be much less bothered by the lack of his attention on your person.

It’s not like either of you want to let even the smallest detail of your affairs into this place amongst all of your coworkers.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. When you go to glance back at Jimin, you see him back conversing with those around him. You scoff softly and pull out your phone, smiling a bit wider when you see how ridiculous you are acting for assuming a particular name to appear in the pixels.

Seokjin, 12:10AM: You’re going to regret skipping out on watching the latest episode with us-- the show is getting crazy.

Y/N, 12:11AM: You better not spoil anything.

“Hey, I’m going to head out.” You say to Jihyo, as you reach for your bag hanging from your seat.

“Aw, already?” She pouts, eyes following you as you stand. “You barely drank at all with us though.”

“I have to go to work in the morning.” You explain, laughing as she clings her arms on your waist.

“Want me to help you catch a cab, Y/N?” The guy across the table asks before sipping further at his beer. You shake your head, while you work to gently tug off Jihyo.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine-”

“You heading out too?” Jimin’s voice feels like it pops a bubble. You turn your head to him, as he walks with his jacket in hand, smiling casual as the inquiry remains in the air.

“You too, man?” The younger member across you asks him.

“Yeah, my manager would kill me if I couldn’t wake up on time tomorrow.” He answers with a smile lazily on his features, then he glances back to you. “I’ll give you a ride to your apartment.”

“You sure-”

“Yes, you need to! She uses too many taxi rides-- it makes me nervous.” Jihyo exclaims into the mix as she finally releases her hold on you. “You better make sure she gets home safe, though, Jimin.”

“Deal.” He’s still looking at you while he speaks, his eyes gentle. If you think about it, you’re sure you could misinterpret his expression, so you don’t. You just nod your head, and follow his lead outside of the restaurant.

—

“To think we’d leave at the same time.” You buckle your seatbelt with ease, as Jimin turns on the ignition. Relaxing your head on the seat, you barely arch your neck, eyeing him coyly. “Almost like we intended to.”

“Well, I did.” Jimin chuckles, wrapping a hand on the gear shift. Then he looks at you, and speaks just as easily, “I only went because you did.”

You try not to acknowledge the way your rib cage constricts for a moment at his words. Like it tries to lock them close to your heart. You half-smile at Jimin, helping the sentence to trickle away into nothing. “Smooth.”

“I think so.” He nods his head as he begins to drive away. The expression of his is nothing bashful or satisfied; nothing in particular at all. It’s just words. You relax back into the familiar seat and stare at the road as it comes, settled in your understanding of everything. You smother the confusion, putting it away before you are able to ponder it and get your flimsy feelings hurt. The last thing you would need is a relationship with an idol at SoundWave.

You can’t even imagine the complications that could entail.

“Are you very tired?”

You perk your eyebrows at the inquiry. Incidentally, his words brought you out of a stupor that was melded with the exhaustion from the day, but your curiosity wins over your response.

“Not very. Why?”

Jimin’s index finger taps the steering wheel as a red light forces a stop. His eyes fixate ahead as casual as ever, but the hesitation in his sentence reveals itself when his lips barely part without answering your question. More curiosity swirls in your expression, maybe too much, but Jimin is not looking at you so you let it slide, and merely hum to press for an answer.

“Do you care if I stay over tonight?” You should immediately throw away that nagging thought in your brain that tells you Jimin really did only go to the dinner because of you. You should cast it away, because this request is not dressed in sweetness. It’s implications are just a testament to the relationship between you: the friends and something more but nothing too much. Not ever to be more. It’s already settled, unlike him and that girl who could still take a relationship in any direction they want.

Your hand curls on your lap in recollection.

“To be honest, I’m not really feeling sex tonight.”

The car continues down the road, smoothly trailing closer to your apartment less than minutes away. The air conditioning’s breeze does more than it needs to as your legs garner goosebumps that you notice with the silence. Only a second passes then another, but it feels slow and you cannot stop your thumbs rubbing against each other.

“That’s fine. I’m not very interested in that either right now.” You glance towards Jimin, but it’s noticeable as your hair shifts and your eyes gleam from the passing street lights. Pondering the implications of his words should be at the forefront of your mind, but they are shoved aside by satisfaction. Satisfaction that he doesn’t just think of you for sex-- logically you never did consider that to be the case, but the words are reassuring. There’s still the friendship; a connection you care about more. “But I understand if you don’t want me to-”

“You can.”

You catch the corner of his lip curling upwards, but he stares ahead at the road. Resting his head against his knuckles as he eases the car around the last corner with a single hand, Jimin hums softly, and your hands close atop your lap with his reaction. You don’t bother smothering the small smile of your own, and can’t stop a tiny, playful scoff as he finally speaks up, “Slumber party it is then.”

---

“Hey,” You begin as the television streams a movie long forgotten about. Though opposite sides of the couch were occupied originally, Jimin mentioned simply through a soft mumble that his chest is comfier than the awkward positioning of your head on the stiff armrest, so the current arrangement of your body loosely entangled atop of his came to be. For a moment before being coaxed by his offer, you tried to play it off, giving a little hum and a small glance from him to the television then back again when he poked your thigh with his toe. His lips were a bit pursed, but he smiled like he knew you were trying to play it coy. Who were you to feign resisting further? “I thought you said earlier that you had to go home so your manager wouldn’t kill you in the morning?”

Jimin chuckles, fingertips easing in a slow trail along your back, before going up then back down like a leisurely gondola ride. You don’t believe you care about whatever reason he gives you for tagging along. You think you just wanted to talk and take your focus away from the embrace that you don’t know how to categorize.

“Like I said earlier too: I just went to begin with because you did.”

“You didn’t even sit with me.” The words come out in a mumble with a tone that sounds too whiny, and you wish they hadn’t slipped out so easily. Jimin shifts beneath you, adjusting your frame with his hands that find your waist and his neck cranes to look at you,

“What was that?” His grin teases you, clearly amused by your little admission. You huff, trying to avoid his gaze as a blush of embarrassment threatens to creep to the surface. “And this whole time I was wondering why you kept looking over at me, baby.”

“Jimin,” You bite your lip, now trying to count the amount of times you may have glanced over at him, and wondering how in the world he ever caught sight of a lot of them. You open your mouth to continue, but find nothing to say further in your flustered state. Jimin’s eyebrows raise as though he awaits for whatever you want to say as a rebuttal. You put your hand to his cheek and gently attempt pushing his stare back to the television.

“No-” He laughs, resisting your lackluster strength and simply takes hold of your forearm with one of his hands. “Go on, baby, tell me what you wanted to.”

You don’t know what you wanted to say, and really there’s nothing for you to complain about in the first place. How was he supposed to know, and given the way things were between them, who are you to ask for a specific seating arrangement out in public? Especially with all of the other employees, and especially when that girl went out of the way to monopolize him herself.

“Well, I wasn’t going to interrupt you and that other girl.” Your lips clamp shut. Thankful you’re not looking him in the eyes as yet another uncontrolled thought escaped, you merely breathe in through your nostrils, briefly considering that you stepped beyond a line you should not have.

“What girl?” He asks you like nothing else in the statement could concern him. Slowly, hesitantly, your eyes find him once more. Jimin’s focus is calm, yet something about his expression tells you that beyond confusion he wants to settle any worries. Whether obligated or not.

“The one who grabbed your arm on the way in,” You say, captured by his eyes that feel more intimate than you’re used to. “She’s clearly in to you.”

Jimin’s head tilts to the side, lips remain in a straight line and there’s nothing to say the idea interests him. “Didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, right.” You press without knowing why. If it bothers you, it would make sense for you to leave the subject untouched further, not to try and peek at his own interest in the subject. “It was clear to me.”

“Yeah?” One corner of his mouth rises. A strong beat in your chest ricochets within your ribcage, and your hand begins to curl a grip onto his shirt as he inches closer. “Couldn’t care less about her.”

The moment Jimin intends to press his lips to yours, you shift your head, causing a collision with his kiss landing on your cheek. Your hand remains tightened on the fabric of his shirt, certainly able to give it wrinkles as time passes. Jimin’s eyes blink as he pulls back, now appearing to be concerned he may have done something wrong, and he nearly verbalizes his worries, but you beat him to it.

“You’re not allowed to kiss my lips tonight.” The matter-of-fact tone stops Jimin’s mind in his tracks. His head tilts again, and a single breathy chuckle leaves his lips in a baffled confusion,

“Am I being punished?”

“Maybe.” Jimin’s head falls back against the couch with laughter at your words. A small fit, but nonetheless finding himself amused and from the appearance of his cheerful eyes when he looks at you again, you think he may even be endeared.

“Just your lips, baby?” He questions with a bright voice, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion at his question. Answering the curiosity towards his words, Jimin leans towards you, lips brushing along the bridge of your nose, testing. Your lips tighten into a line, not dissatisfied but instead trying not to show any of the flowers growing meadows in your hearts from his action. Like he graces you with sunlight, Jimin slowly moves his lips to the apples of your cheek, kissing softly.

“Can I confess something too?” He utters the molten words as another peck lands on your forehead, following along a path of his own to continue in tiny ministrations. You hum, feeling your hand relax its grip on his shirt, and your body nearly growing limp from his tender actions. “I didn’t have a great time watching that guy flirt with you all night, baby.”

Your eyes open as you tug your head away looking down at Jimin in surprise. He smiles at your stupor, reaching a hand to cup your cheek and guiding his thumb to ghost over the skin just beside your mouth. “Who was flirting with me?”

“You’re adorable-”

“The guy across from me? I don’t think so-- he’s just hoping I make a good song for their group’s next comeback.”

“It’s pretty common knowledge among the artists that he has a soft spot for you, actually.” Jimin elaborates simply, eyes gazing from yours to your lips. You watch his jaw tighten and can’t help your chest tighten from his reaction to the whole thing. You wonder if he’s ever said anything to the guy in regards to you, but you’re sure not. “Can’t say I blame him, though.”

“You’re pouting.” You smile then grin as Jimin groans softly and stretches his neck to avoid your assessment. “Adorable.”

Your copycat compliment makes Jimin chuckle with a roll of his eyes. His hand on your back tugs you back to him, and you do nothing but giggle as his lips find the space beside your own, kissing in a gentle frenzy. Mindlessly your fingers tangle in his hair, once again content as he follows your silly rule and leaves his lips kissing just next to your lips, warming the skin and making your heart flutter.

“Jimin,” You murmur, listening to his blissful hum as he breaks from your skin only to reposition a kiss on the tip of your nose so that his eyes can find yours when you speak again in a bashful voice, “Punishment’s over.”

Jimin smiles, not even sparing a second of teasing as he mumbles his words against your lips, “Say less.”

[faimrpg]

This entire week’s dashboard was an object lesson in how quantity and quality do apparently make good bedfellows, because damn, all these threads are proving it can be done? All of you are out here winning. Except Hippolyte, but... <3

Genuinely, there were so many replies to bowl us over, both individually and collectively, and we are once again so so inspired by the dedication & talent of our members (our beloveds...). Most of all, we are stunned by everyone’s determination to rally the common braincell for the purpose of developing this story arc together. Thank you so much and stay tuned (though some of you need to get some sleep, really) for tomorrow’s event !!

AGRIPPINE: does a lamb know how to face its slaughter? does the sacrifice know how to brace itself and accept, so yielding and pliant, as they are led to the altar? agrippine follows helene silently, afraid to make a sound lest she decide on a crueler punishment than the one she’s already listed.

BEAU: She begins to sit up, shuffling through a few things on his desk. Nothing wild or scandalous. Her thoughts briefly wander to if he has a lover, if he enjoys things other than following behind Calandre and cutting off heads. She snorts at the thought.

CECILE: Still, she allowed him his hesitation. She hopes he will allow her the same. She is accustomed to small, comfortable secrecies shared with Michel, secrets that smell of fresh pastries and Cecile’s finest perfume. It is an odd thing, to come here and discuss matters of blood.

CYRIL: It’s the way Gisele seems hellbent on forcing her beliefs about nobility that makes Cyril the most nervous. “You’re right, it is comforting and I could spend hours of my day wondering what could have been. And I never said I saw Celestine as a... meritocracy. I am aware of what it is.”

DEGARE: It never ceases to astonish him, unacquainted with magic as the next man, how she bleeds the objects of their tincture with such ease. Darkness washes over the cloth, like the spread of rot. The accents, wine-red, are a nice addition, though he doesn’t say so.

ETIENNE: Liane did not merely exist within the shadows— they were the forces that moved her, that fueled and called upon her— the very forces that she answered too. What dreadful devices existed beneath her splendid visage and how enamored he'd become as a result.

GISELE: Some believe there is constancy in the finality of grief, but the notion is misguided-- finality comes when the grief is sourced from circumstances beyond your control. Gisele’s grief is a suffocating shark on a fisherman's boat, slippery and sharp-toothed and either thrashing so violently it could shatter bone or lying so still you could not meaningfully tell if it was still clinging to life.

HELENE: It is a declaration, as she tilts her head to the side elegantly, a sharp eye pinning them down beneath her gaze. Fear does wonderful things to the psyche of those who cannot withstand it, but Helene does not have time for it. Only the auspices of this evening have kept the nobility from turning their eye, but they will not suffer it for long.

ISEULT: He flips the coin off his thumb and catches it. Doesn't even need to look. Knows the imprint of heads against his skin well enough to know the answer is 'Yes'. The prophet’s spoken. Iseult strolls on in.

LIANE: The sharp of her tongue mirrors the sharp of her stare as she lessens the distance between the two. “You know what I am. Do not deny it. You have always known, and still, you served your heart on a silver platter and expected me to be gentle with it.”

MATTHIEU: For a second, Matthieu watches its colour jump out, and thinks this thing between them is not just duty. It’s not just habit. In a way, saving her from the weight of the moment—from the brand, both holy and professed, of always having to leave her mark—is like working up to save himself. 

MICHEL: He crushes any semblance of irritation under his heel, fingers twitching for his helmet -- he could put it on, but that would be dishonest, seem strange to don now after so many hours without it. Hippolyte’s blood still stains the silver plating. 

PATRICE: He watches the man when the other’s gaze drops to his work, follows the sharp lines of his face to the softening of his expression. Can a face hold mystery, or only an expression? Savatier’s expression doesn’t seem to be projecting anything mysterious, simply humble and helpful, and yet there is something that Patrice wishes to crack open, a marrow he wishes to discover.

ROSALIND: When your desires are made equal in the other, when the bottomless hole of your stomach matches the bottomless hole in theirs, it becomes a question not of want and greed and hunger and avarice — but of dominion. Who will rule? Who will conquer? Who can bare their teeth and snarl the longest, until the other loses heart and shrivels away, swallowed whole?

SAINTE: They’re glad for their mask, hoping it hides their discomfort to some extent, although not much. It hangs in the air between them. “I don’t know.” They want to say no, but they can’t, can they? It’s undignified. But what dignity is there in the career they’ve chosen?

SAVATIER: he’d never known the touch of crushed silk until a courtier brushed against him at the summer palace, never understood the need nor the prevalence of masks, not even when he forced himself into the custom, not even when he forgot his in his chambers and weaved through the seas of marionette faces with his own flesh bared.

SIDONIE: His blood still stains the bottom of one of her heels and her jaw still still aches from being clamped shut to stifle her own inquiries. It is not her place to question Her Imperial Majesty, and anything that happens outside the realm of the arcane is beyond her purview.

VIOLAINE: Sidonie was real, and her splendor was something that existed outside of Violaine’s daydreams. The back of her hand outlined the curve of her companion’s cheek— her own way of affirming Sidonie’s existence, an existence that oft felt too good to have been true, so much so that Violaine could not help the random onsets of doubt.

YVON: she had never warmed a glass between palm and flushed breast, held to her heart like the carved wooden figures of odeline hand-crafted and favoured by peasant women, while standing witness to impromptu execution. liquid or ephemeral, she had never forgotten to abandon a flat, lifeless thing in exchange for one crisp and bubbling.  

ZHENYA: Far beyond, the streets of the Northern city breathed in a tranquil cadence, humming with motion and thrumming with activity. All around him, life drawled on, idle and unhurried; ever eager to sustain its oblivion towards the halting horrors and terrorizing trials it so callously incited.

[utterlyinevitable]

On The Subject of Love

Paring: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao)  Word Count: 3.3k Warning: Tame. A few curse words and mentions of sex.  Summary: Becca coaxes Ethan into talking about his experience with love during their visit to Leland Bloom's yacht.  

Author’s Note: this took waaaaay too long to write and i’m still not sure i’m happy with it :/ but thank you @aylamwrites for pre-reading and leaving hilarious comments ❤

________________________________________

The drive to Leland Bloom’s yacht was staid, a direct contrast to the glorious sunshine surrounding the bubble of the sedan. Ethan was navigating the unfamiliar route to the private yacht club with extreme disdain. His ego wanted to resolve this case and finally put an end to this petulant competition with Mass Kenmore Hospital. Sitting in the passenger seat of his car was his favorite accomplice, Becca, calmly staring blankly out the window and still so unsure of his feelings towards her. 

She knew she riled him up when she went behind his back to seek out the first high-profile patient, influencer Gwenyth Monroe. Though, in her defense, the man wasn’t actively trying to save the Diagnostics Team from the budgetary chopping block. Ethan Ramsey was always so blinded by his pride and ethics - He did the same with their future as well. But, Becca also knew she stepped over the line this morning when she called him a spoiled child in front of Baz and June at Mr. Bloom’s estate. Though she didn't really regret it because someone had to tell him off, the interaction still left a bad taste in her mouth. 

Becca wasn’t too sure where they stood - professionally or romantically. The words Ethan spoke not too long ago in the dark of his office rang through her head: I want to know you as you truly are. 

That was a few weeks ago. There he was breaking down their simply professional facade once again. It was a constant tug-of-war with him. Some days Ethan would let the wall crumble by letting her in or grabbing her hand, and others where he’d build it higher than before just to keep the force of Becca at bay. She didn’t realize how sweet of a memory the two of them creating his Pictagram account during that late-night research session would become. 

He’s such an old man… 

Ethan cut through her reverie, “What are you thinking about?” 

With her gaze fixed on the passing trees and her mind still half-stuck in her daydream, she responded without further consideration, “Do you really never want to get married?”  

Ethan’s brow furrowed at the random intrusion, needing to think before settling on a response. “Are you still stuck on this?”

The two sometimes-lovers spoke briefly about his views on the subject while working on Gwenyth’s case late into the evening. To Becca it was one of the most important questions in building their not-so-subtle budding relationship - she needed to know if Ethan was worth all the… complications. He spoke about how he didn’t believe in soulmates, unconditional love, and his doubts on marriage as an intuition. He never once spoke about his experience with love.   

Looking out the window into the cloudless end of summer day, Becca boldly asked, “Haven’t you ever been in love? Wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone you’ve dated?” 

“Oh god, no,” he scoffed with wide pale blue eyes. “I told you, Rookie, I don’t see the point.”

She rolled her disbelieving brown eyes and let the conversation pause there as they pulled up to the dock. 

***

After the yacht set sail the doctors waited around the stern in a restive silence for 45 minutes while Mr. Bloom wrapped up his business meeting. Once safely away from the prying eyes of investors and colleagues in the yacht's master bedroom, Ethan and Becca begin to run tests and scans on the deteriorating businessman. 

“Mr. Bloom, can I ask you and Caroline a question?” Becca asked as she drew a few samples of blood. “It has nothing to do with your case. Me and my friend here are debating something,” she nodded her head at Ethan’s general direction.  

The patient looked between the two with a devious smile, “Sure, swing.” 

Becca quickly peered over at Ethan standing at an expensive gold and glass table with the mobile sonogram machine, his arms crossed and waiting for her to enlighten the room with her inquiry. 

She shot him a coy smile before turning back to the worldly man and asking, “How did you know you wanted to get married?” 

Ethan stifled a surprising cough. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought she’d ask a complete stranger that. 

Mr. Bloom smiled as he instantly recalled every moment he has ever spent with his now-wife. 

Closing his eyes he recited, “We’ve been business partners for decades - since college, actually. We were married about 11 years ago. I’ve known her my entire adult life and waited until I was almost 50 to tell her how I really felt.” 

His eyes opened and found Caroline sitting in the chair by the large bay window immediately. The two looking adoringly at one another for a few seconds, speaking volumes in the language of love. For a moment Becca’s heart panged with hope that she could have that level of fondness with a man - that unconditional and unencumbered attachment that precedes words. 

“My recommendation is to tell the other person you have feelings for them from the get-go. It’ll buy you time together. Its - it’s the most precious thing in the world to be with the one you love most.”   

The way Leland Bloom spoke about his wife humanized him - he wasn’t a cut-throat businessman with oligarch-like wealth. He was a man who wanted as much time with his loved one as this world would permit, no matter the cost. 

“But how did you know she was the one?” Becca quizzed further. 

Mr. Bloom looked at Ethan's awkward form first and then to Becca as he asked, “Have you ever been in love?”

Ethan’s attention was focused on watching the images printing, deeply embarrassed by Becca’s brazen question and wanting no part of the conversation. Feeling everyone’s gaze on him he took in the three expectant stares and exclaimed incredulously, “Wha - Of course I have!”   

Becca smiled at the old man, “Yes.” 

“Do you remember how it felt?” Leland’s eyes bore into Becca’s begging the memories to surface. 

She nodded. 

Becca peered over at Ethan for a split second, his eyes meeting hers. She could see the curiosity swirling around his dark blue orbs alongside something else. Feeling ashamed for getting caught staring she bit her lip and tore her eyes away from him before she could even try to pinpoint just what the mystery emotion was.

“It’s like that,” Leland reassured. “But you’re constantly drawn to one another. The simplest and meaningless of tasks make you the happiest. You can sit in the same room in your own little world of silence together. Your heart swells when you look at them.” Like before his eyes flashed over to Caroline. “You’re never bored. And you can rely on them. The most telling sign was that I knew I needed her in my life even before I knew I had feelings for her. The intimacy was an added bonus.” 

He smiled up at his wife who now stood close by with an affectionate hand on her husband’s shoulder.  

“Would you agree, darling?” 

She nodded only for him. “I knew he was my person when he’d stand up for me. He wouldn’t let anyone belittle me or my intelligence. He challenged me to be a better person and comforted me when I needed it. He’s the best partner I could ask for.” Caroline’s body shifted to Becca though her eyes never left Leland’s, “Does that help your debate?” 

Becca looked over at Ethan who didn’t have an inkling of amusement in his features. “I think you’ve just proved my point, but I'll give him a few minutes to form a rebuttal,” she winked at the couple. 

They shared a pleasant laughter at Ethan’s expense. 

“Ok, Mr. Bloom, you’re all set,” Becca beamed as they finished their examination. “We’ll give you a call once we have the results from the lab later today.” 

With a nod of his head Mr. Bloom replied, “Good evening, doctors.” 

Ethan didn’t say a word as they disembarked the vessel. 

“So…” she started, expecting him to begin arguing his case on the disillusion of soulmates. 

Ethan wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. 

The walk back to his sedan was stewing in awkward tension under the afternoon raging heat. More than halfway back to the car Becca had just come to accept the fact that Ethan wasn’t going to engage in their little intellectual tiff when he spoke with a critical eye;   

“How many people have you presumably been in love with?” 

She certainly didn’t expect that to be his first rebuttal. It almost made Becca drop the medical bag she was holding. Almost.  

She simply responded, “Two. You?” 

Over her shoulder she saw Ethan walking straight and stoically, eyes fixed ahead. He was ever so expertly guarded and displaying no telling emotions. 

“Three, maybe,” he shrugged, not giving it a second thought.  

“Maybe?” 

“I don’t think teenage relationships could really count as love.”

“So we won’t count it,” Becca agreed with a small nod. “My number stands at 2.”  

They made it to the car and Ethan popped the truck for them to put the gear. He fussed with the equipment, taking slightly longer than necessary to make sure the bag with the blood samples were safe and secure. Becca eyed him carefully from the sidelines expectantly. 

With a loud thunk of the trunk and eyes glued to the license plate, he hesitated, “One.” 

“Tell me about her.” Becca demanded sweetly as she moved to open the passenger side door. “Or I can go first?” 

“Please,” he motioned for her to continue as they settled into his sedan. 

Becca took a cleansing breath as she buckled herself in for the journey. 

“It was my first year of undergrad. His name was Mack.” Becca could almost hear the roll of Ethan’s eyes as she stared out her window. “We dated for a year and broke up because my workload got intense and I couldn't go out much.” She took a pause as she remembered all those meaningful moments that came to define her adult-self. “He was a liberal arts major, really outgoing. He brought me out of my shell and taught me to be the person I am today. I’m really thankful for him, but more grateful that it didn’t work. I loved him, but I know now I definitely wasn’t in love with him. Looking back I don't even know how we would have made anything work.” Becca chuckled to herself. “He works in television now.”

There was a pause before she continued onto the second romantic love she’s ever experienced. Part of her hoped Ethan would jump in with an antidote. 

Still, he kept his eyes on the road ahead. 

“My last relationship was during med school. He was something else,” Becca continued with a vibrant smile. “We had great chemistry and a good time together.” 

The affection in her voice for the nameless man instinctively had Ethan gripping at the wheel just tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. Medical school wasn’t more than two years in her past, still enough time for the exes to find their way back to one another… 

“We thought we were supposed to be together because that’s what you’re told as a kid - go to school, find your soulmate, get that good job, get married and have babies. We groomed each other to be all that. But the pressure of trying to be someone’s perfect person was too much. He went to California and I went to Boston. I don’t know what he’s up to today.”

Her smile faltered as she wordlessly recalled the day she and Thomas Miller III walked out of one another’s life for good. Ethan would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little relieved to know her break up was not amicable.  

“Your turn.” 

Becca didn’t have the strength to turn and face him, the still-raw memories were playing out against the glass of the rear-view mirror and she couldn’t banish them just yet.

Ethan began to recite his past relationship like a bulleted list, checking off any sort of pertinent information; “It was for nearly 10 months. During medical school. She was gracious and brilliant. We never saw much of each other but when we did we had the most riveting medical debates. It was good fun.” 

“That’s it?�� Becca questioned in astonishment. Her brows were furrowed as she tried to keep her mouth from hanging open. How could someone look back on their first love with such displeasure? Even if it ended horribly the feeling of being in love is magical... and shouldn’t that in itself be celebrated?  

He nodded. 

Becca folded her arms across her chest and bit her lip as she pondered his words. 

With the slightest scoff Becca boldly concluded, “I don’t think you were in love.” 

Ethan was taken aback, clenching his jaw tightly in blatant refusal of conveying his surprise at her account of what happened with his heart while she was still in grade school. “How would you know?” he retorted.  

“Because if you were you’d see each other all the time,” she responded simply and with a jovial lightness - like she’d cracked an undefined code. “You’d forgo sleep to spend some time together. You’d talk about your insecurities, your family, your dreams of the future. Not just medicine and cases.” 

“You’re romanticising it.”  

That one phrase stirred something up deep inside Becca. Who was he to tell her those things didn’t matter in a relationship? Those are the things they talk about and she… she wouldn’t admit to it. With that one romantic phrase they dove back into the quarrel Ethan so desperately didn’t want to be having. 

Undeterred by consequences she countered, “How often did you have sex?”  

“Excuse me.”  

“You heard me,” she challenged.  

Ethan let out a long breath of air. They were stuck together for at least another 25 minutes and there wasn’t a single thing he could say to dodge his way out of this one. Although he didn’t like the fact, they both were acutely aware that Rebecca is the only person who could ever ask him an impudent question. She had earned that right that night he crossed the line and they ruined one another in the most pleasurable of ways.

“Once, maybe twice a month, I think.”

“Months!?” Becca practically jumped out of her seat. Her head whipped around to face him.  

Ethan hadn’t moved from the upright position and tight grip on the steering wheel she noted when they began their journey back to Edenbrook. The only thing that was running through Becca’s mind as she gawked at the admirable DNA of the man beside her was: How?  

“It was a long time ago,” Ethan said, still completely unflappable. “I can’t remember correctly.” 

“I was lucky to have sex twice a week.” Gosh, there were so many questions fluttering around Becca’s mind that she just couldn’t find the right words to articulate how unfathomable his confession seemed. 

She watched as he raised an eyebrow, “You had other priorities.”  

“No,” she stopped him right there with a point of her finger. “I had the same education as you. In between classes, assignments and reading your entire body of work I found time to find time.” 

The corner of Ethan’s lip twitched when she mentioned her devotion to his life’s work. 

Becca couldn’t believe he dared question her priorities - he read her application, he knows just how diligent and qualified she is. 

She wanted to continue arguing but knew it was futile. Instead she asked another innocent question, “How many relationships have you been in since her?” 

“Hurm, one,” Ethan grumbled, “Harper.” He paused to look at Becca out the corner of his eye for any sort of reaction. She gave him no ill indications - Her alert brown eyes were on him and brows rose high, awaiting further explanation. The two have had a quick quip on his history with the surgeon, but nothing past hearsay. “We’ve been on and off since residency,” he told her once more. “Now can we stop talking about this?”

Becca conceded, settling back into the shiny black leather. “I can’t believe you dated Harper,” she mused as she played with her seatbelt strap, “You two are so…” 

“Different?” Ethan finished for her. “We actually have a lot of the same interests.”  

“Intense,” Becca grinned as she finished her train of thought. “But I'm glad you got along.”  

“We didn’t.”  

If she wasn’t confused by the attendings’ relationship before she sure as hell was now. “Wha- How? You just said you have a lot in common.”  

“Having similar interests and getting along are not mutually exclusive, Doctor,” Ethan smirked. 

With a slack jaw and eyes trained on him once more, Becca all but demanded, “Explain please.”  

“We were two people at the top of our respective classes,” he began. “Medical journal leeches were pitching us again and again. Everyone was pushing us together - a power couple, if you will.” 

“The pride of Edenbrook,” she muttered in understanding.  

Ethan nodded, “Pretty much.”  

“Did Naveen orchestrate your coupling?” she asked. “He loves a good gossip story.”  

Ethan shook his head once, “Naveen just wants me to be happy. At that moment he thought she’d make me happy.”  

Becca let his words settle amongst them. She shouldn’t feel unsettled by his honesty, yet she did. There were too many comparable variables coming to light today. 

Becca chewed on her bottom lip for a few pensive seconds before asking the fated question; “Did you like her?” 

As soon as the words fell off her tongue she shut her eyes. She didn't want to see the damage the words could cause, and yet her body craved the answer. 

“I had an affinity for her, if that’s what you mean,” he asked but didn’t give her the chance to clarify. “We had the same interests; both of us very career-orientated. Ultimately that’s what got in the way.” He paused for a moment, thinking carefully about his next words. He said them slowly and a decibel quieter than the last, “And that I didn’t have highly romantic feelings for her.” Just then Becca’s eyes shot open, fixed at his loosened grip of the steering wheel. “I still have a lot of respect and admiration for her.” 

A small smile crept up on Rebecca. Those words alone held all she needed to know - Harper Emery never was and never will be a contender for Ethan’s heart. 

“Then why do it?” 

He shrugged as his features settled back into their default stoicism, “It was the right thing to do. If we didn’t… people would spend the rest of our lives forcing us together.” 

She cocked an eyebrow, “So your relationship was a PR stunt…?”

“Absolutely not. I’m not a low-life, Becca.” He took pure offense that she thought he would do anything without a saturation of intention. “We tried because it seemed right. It seemed… inevitable... to try.”

“Huh, ok.” 

He used her words against her. ‘Inevitable’ was what they were. Does he feel the same way about their relationship that he felt about Harper? Surely he didn’t, but she’d have no way to know. Ethan Ramsey kept pushing her away, and yet years ago he refused to wait and chose to explore those ineludible feelings with someone else. 

Was Harper the reason we aren’t together, since he’s done the whole ‘inevitable’ tango before? She speculated.  

Ethan’s next comment broke through her trance, “Aside from those disasters called relationships I have spent time with a few other women. You can rest assured I’m not completely incapable of intimacy.” 

“I know you’re not a robot, Ethan,” she lamented. I’m happy to be one of those women. 

Becca was glad he opened up to her, and for their intimacy all those months ago. Though, the gnawing of how many other women Ethan Ramsey had taken to bed in the days without her or Harper Emery plagued her mind. She wanted to press further but knew not to - she pushed her luck too much for one day.

_____________________________________

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[doesitsparkjoytho]

"The Happy Harpy Post" - Medieval Craigslist

(**For anyone not in the U.S., Craigslist is Facebook Marketplace's janky, super sketch predecessor, basically an online site to list items for sale, jobs, "Missed Encounters," etc.**)

[For Sale / Trade]

Realm's most powerful -- and evil -- sword

Just in time for that long-awaited conquering!

The realm's most notoriously blood-thirsty sword has reappeared from the dark abyss yet again. The last band of heroes battled death to cast it into oblivion some centuries ago, but like a merciless rash, it will not stay banished.

Features:

Authentic blood stains and nicks

Possessed by an extremely evil and demeaning spirit, rumored to be that of Lord Archbane himself

Crafted from the finest dragon's bone and titanium, ensuring years of slicing, thrusting, hacking, mutilation and general intimidation

This weapon is not for the faint of heart. If the latter is not black as pitch, I assure you that the blade will drive you mad in its attempt to corrupt your soul. I stumbled upon the sword but three weeks past, but already the power of this dark artifact threatens to consume my being. However, one with the strength of spirit to master it stands to gain an instrument of unimaginable potential.

Willing to trade for guaranteed safety during new owner's reign of terror, a residence in owner's general vicinity, and a small (negotiable) re-homing fee for myself / the sword. ***And please note: the sword has attached itself to me in ways that I dare not speak of. If you try to kill me and take the sword in place of a transaction, it will be lost for many more centuries. It has assured me of this.

If interested, please find or send for innkeeper Finbar Ruild of Heshire, Eastern Province.

Free Pulsating Crystal Thing

Are you a dark being of some authority seeking an artifact of unknown power and antiquity to enhance your castle/cave/fortress/tower/dungeon's mystical atmosphere? Are you perhaps also wishing for a handful of random occurrences to shake things up, or to rid yourself of a few pesky, traitorous, or bumbling minions too curious for their own well-being? Then look no further! This strange, eerily glowing crystal pulsates as if containing life and is sure to amuse and amaze guests. In addition, this nifty crystal can easily lull one to sleep with its deep, otherworldly and ominous croonings. I guarantee you won't stumble upon another artifact of such myriad uses and features. I'm only parting with it because the lady of the keep has suggested that I have one too many "unique" trinkets.

Serious inquiries only (No minions, peasants, slaves or other lowly beings, as I dread the repercussions of this falling into the wrong hands). Please contact Lord Vasuvian at the black tower. You can send a messenger by horseback, pigeon, falcon, hawk, bat, dragon, etc. I promise its safe return.

[Services]

Haircuts for Heroes

Are you a hero? Do you want to be? Nothing says "hero" like a unique hairstyle. I offer dying, cutting, braiding, and lime-washing. Be the first to try out my new Dark and Dangerous dye, made from a fermented leech and vinegar mixture which is entirely unique and promises the darkest, longest lasting black available.

Stop announcing your triumphs and displaying your spoils to earn the trust of the town and start standing out!

My shop, Haircuts for Heroes, is located in North Ghestfel.

Live-in Mage for hire

Have you ever wanted life to be a little easier than it is? Do you ever find yourself wishing that your floor would clean itself, that your fire would stay lit through the night, or that those pesky birds would cease pecking the thatch from your roof to build their nests?

Now you can make your wishes come true! Mage with 20+ years of experience in the Way is willing to lend his talents in exchange for room and board. His only request is that you don't treat him as a servant and allow him time for his own studies between your requests.

If interested, please send word to Octulus Drolp so that we may arrange a meeting and home viewing.

[Missed Encounters]

At the smithy - M4W

You, dearest woman, had four children in tow and were berating each of them as they touched everything in the shop. I smiled at you, but you were too busy to take full notice of me. Your voice was the sweetest music to my ears. I doubt a lovely lady such as yourself with four energetic children would be without husband, but if that is indeed the case, I beseech you to come and find me!

Make inquiry for Will at the stables.

O4H

To the ruggedly handsome human who passed through the southern Fivhren woods yesterday morn:

As I emerged from my cave, sleep still crusting my eyes like fairy dust, I was struck by a most unusual but welcome sight. Upon the knoll beyond my cave, a dark-haired man (you) knelt by his steed. My orcish heart pattered- and I am not easily moved, particularly by those of diminutive form. A dark green cloak enfolded your manly form, and you seemed intent on starting a fire, perhaps to make your breakfast.

Not wishing to startle you, I went about my morning as routine demanded, beginning with my rejuvenating spritz in the creek just beyond my cave. I began to hum to catch your attention. When you spotted me, I tried to act alluring, splashing my heaving green bosom with water from the nearby creek and rubbing my face sensually. In reality, I was merely taking my morning bath and desperately attempting to remove the morning crust from round my black orbs- but I figured 'hey, why not kill two birds with one stone?'

I locked my gaze unto yours, and your visage was overcome with- dare I hope- alarmed intrigue? You quickly gathered a few of what I assumed were your belongings, leapt onto your steed and rode away. Without me.

I am sorry if my forthcomingness frightened you away. I am willing to take things slowly, if you are lacking a mate and or have any interest in lady orcs. I enjoy, I imagine, many things you humans do: fishing; rolling in the mud and baking in the sun afterward (it's good for one's skin); eating and cooking (I prepare an astounding seared pig, and my frog-eye soup is unmatched); clubbing and stoning small, pesky animals; and, last but not least, dancing.

If you ever pass my way again, don't hesitate to peek your beautiful head into my cave and holler. But you'd better holler fairly loudly, as I'm a heavy sleeper.

Sincerely yours,

Ghrus'yula

[Community Notices]

Your Daughter Is No Treasure

Dear Lady Fitz,

Please cease advertising your daughter as the most enchanting creature in the land. I had the misfortune of crossing her path in the market this Saturday past, and she was neither lovely, endearing, soft of voice, or willow-thin. In fact, I have seen female trolls more alluring. If you were to place her in a tower for one to rescue, those stupid enough to brave the perils set before them on faith of your word alone would, upon seeing her, leap to their deaths or fall on their own swords before they carried her out of there with them. I am not trying to be rude, I am merely pointing out the truth which I think you should know. If you really wish to marry your daughter off, be honest. It also might not hurt to throw in some gold.

Sincerely,

A man saving fellow men from unhappy futures

To my neighbor to the east and south, the marauding tyrant

Dear kindred conqueror:

Being a power and land hungry tyrant myself, I acknowledge that certain consequences can be expected from claiming new provinces. For example, I realize that valuable farmland will likely be laid to waste in the process, forest burned and the animals inhabiting it slain, and villagers and townspeople dispatched from their homes.

However, it is the latter which concerns me. Far be it from me to advise you on proper warmongering, but your actions have brought the consequences of war to my borders. In the towns and villages dotting our shared borders, beings fleeing your terror-inducing campaign are piling in by the hour. However, that's not the main issue here. No, what concerns me is that these humans, orcs, elves, etc. are crossing my borders and falling dead in my towns, creating an awful sight and stench which, in the end, I am left to deal with. Not only that, but my denizens are becoming worried that I might gather my army again and attempt to take the few provinces I have allowed them to keep. I have worked hard at gaining their newfound trust in the last few years following the end of my campaign, and your actions are threatening the fragile halcyon of my new kingdom.

If you would kindly see to it that more of your soon-to-be subjects did not escape your borders, or at least died within them, I would be most grateful. If you do not comply, a few thousand of my most sickly denizens may somehow find their way into your lands just when you think you've established yourself in your new domains.

Yours to the west and north,

Lord Belus III

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

So I used to write. A LOT. Before fanfic, I was an aspiring fantasy novelist, and I wrote pretty much all the time. I'm trying to get back into it, so I've been looking at my old pieces and taking stock of what I like/don't like. This is one of my all time favorite pieces so I thought I'd share!