#/ncs/admin's art

[nostalgiacriticshitpost]

Nostalgia Critic playing Nostalgia (please laugh)

[nostalgiacriticshitpost]

I can't believe CA stole this idea from 15 year old nostalgiacriticshitpost... Bastards...

cursed image.

[greatrunner]

It is a truth universally accepted that when critiquing anything regarding AO3/OTW, reactionaries enter the building, and critical thinking and discernment gets locked out.

Nia Ola (on Substack) attempted to raise the alarm about AO3's changes in Terms of Service. This bit in particular:

Nia Ola: "[...]AO3 just updated their terms and conditions so that the only way you can use the site now is that you consent to them taking your data (so, works that you've written, distributed, saved, bookmarked, etc, everything) and give that data and information to the government."

In my time reading Terms and Conditions of Service, websites claiming that they're "duty bound" to provide data uploaded to the site to the govt, depending on jurisdiction, is not a surprise. You will not be informed or told by the site(s) when the government accesses/obtained your information. All on the pretense that it would "interfere with an ongoing investigation".

It isn't dissimilar to the one I've read here for Tumblr. The bit that says (legalese-y) that anything you post on the site can be used as evidence (IIRC) if it becomes "necessary."

But as usual, the AO3 brigade worked like hell to shout them down. Folk focused a lot on how OTW made their TOS "easier" to understand. They claimed Nia Ola was spreading misinformation. Most have gone as far as quibbling with her phrasing, "giving your information to the government" (which they would be doing) based on their personal interpretation of her meaning.

After making the video (they posted on TikTok) private, Nia Ola continued to encourage people to use security measures like VPNs and secure Browsers (they mentioned Firefox; I'm sure others are recommending Tor, Brave, and lesser-known browsers with better security features than Edge or Chrome) and to back up information they didn't want to lose.

Is it an explicit consequence of the election? Probably not. AO3/OTW knows entirely that they're hosting grimy shit on their website and refuse to do anything about it. AO3/OTW, like other websites, are "all-ages". Meaning OTW knows kids as young as 13 (and lets face it, younger) are using AO3. If the US or any other country decides it's politically advantageous to go after them, AO3/OTW is gonna cover their asses and throw you under the bus.

Point-Blank-Period.

That said, I think it would be irresponsible to exclude the election as a factor altogether. Organizations (govt or otherwise) are hang-wringing about rustling conservative feathers, and censoring themselves to avoid the wrath of a Trump Admin.

KOSA and COPPA are still in play. And there's the bill targeting non-profits to consider that's likely (and did) to pass not long after it got shot down.

When Tumblr wanted the favor of the Apple Store and their advertisers, they targeted sex worker blogs and fashion and art bloggers (primarily Black/non-Black). Then, they created an AI flagging system that still doesn't work.

When enough people (and advertisers) made enough noise about the NC-17 content that FanFiction (dot net) hosted on their site (at the height of its popularity, mind you)? They made a choice that allowed the website to survive and eliminate the target on their back. Both were financially motivated, yes, but if it's a choice of annexing content to stay online or getting shuttered?

AO3 will not be an exception. It's already embracing that "Obeying in Advance" phrase y'all are in love with right now.

Nia Ola is not the only one raising the alarm or alarmed by this decision. In your haste to fall on the sword for an organization that does not care about you, try not to make an ass of yourself by dog-piling people with experience regarding the consequences of data collection stemming from policies meant to criminalize sexual content, yeah?

This will continue unless we establish actual policies, education, and protections to prevent the mass surveillance of adult spaces under the pretense of "decency" and "protecting children." Additionally, we must address the ongoing elimination of healthy and safe spaces for children.

Because in our govt's haste to claim their concern for children, the corporations they serve have been demolishing child spaces and media online to save a couple of bucks (Cartoon Network's website comes to mind), and pushing children into adult spaces. And if they're not pushing kids into adult spaces, they're inviting adults into so-called kid spaces to increase their profits (Roblox and its attempts to become anything but a game for children, to say nothing of their monetization of the ideas that kids make).

Until our culture/society overhauls its approach to sex education, divorced from white supremacy, the actual intention of creating spaces that aren't sex-negative and don't prey on uninformed children will probably always exist in short bursts.

That means our politic has to rid itself of the reactionary ilk that (a) demonizes all things sexual and (b) refuses to practice discernment and critical thinking in their so-called sex-positive spaces. Both are why places like AO3 manifest and then ultimately help no one.

And it does not help anyone that reactionary AO3 loyalists will always fight to keep conversations about the site politically and socially stunted and unchanging.

Not all censorship and moderation is or should be sex-negative or censorious to the point of infantilizing. But, if the goal is maintaining free speech and freedom of expression (as we like to think of it vs how the govt allows it), it cannot be to the detriment of itself or for the sake of it (i.e., anti-censorship is not the answer any more than autocratic censorship is).

[denimbex1986]

'When the companies behind Ira Sachs’ new drama about the shifting currents of intimacy in a troubled love triangle submitted Passages to the Motion Picture Association ratings board, they probably anticipated an R.

But the MPA came back with an NC-17 rating, forcing the distributor to release the film (which premiered at Sundance earlier this year) unrated rather than risk commercial marginalization or impose cuts that would diminish its intensity...

Let’s be clear: Passages — which Mubi opened Aug. 4 in Los Angeles and New York before expanding to other cities in the weeks to come — is a movie with a generous amount of sex, both gay and straight. But it’s neither particularly explicit nor remotely gratuitous, even if it’s frequently quite hot.

The sex is, above all, integral to the movie’s emotional texture, to the way the characters navigate their volatile relationships, the way they express their feelings and explore their connections through their bodies as they come together and pull apart. In other words, the film’s candor in depicting sex and nudity nudges it closer to European cinema than American.

The ratings controversy around Sachs’ movie comes just as Oppenheimer has been generating talk on social media and in the press about being the first Christopher Nolan movie to feature sex scenes. The trysts between Cillian Murphy as scientist J. Robert Oppenheimer and Florence Pugh as his lover both before and during the former’s marriage earned the release an R rating, which is standard given the glimpses of sweaty flesh on view.

But the fact that people are talking about it at all — and no one has been talking about it louder than Nolan himself — just underlines how squeamish American movies are about sex and sensuality.

The sex scenes in both those movies serve a clear narrative purpose. In Nolan’s film, they convey the magnetism of Oppenheimer and its ultimately devastating effect on a woman who, while not really on screen long enough to acquire much complexity, is defined by her intellectual curiosity, political radicalism and carnal desire.

The actual intercourse — once during the affair and once years later, as a haunting specter conjured in a security hearing — is brief and somewhat mechanical, while a long post-coital discussion has Murphy and Pugh sitting naked in armchairs on opposite sides of a room, carefully positioned and framed to keep crotches out of sight. The scene looks like an interview for an admin job at a nudist colony. It’s anything but erotic.

The scene in the Paris-set Passages that evidently had the MPA clutching their pearls, by contrast, is erotically and emotionally charged, raunchy and tender. It takes place after narcissistic German filmmaker Tomas (Franz Rogowski) has strayed outside his marriage to English print-maker Martin (Ben Whishaw) with Agathe (Adèle Exarchapoulos), a French schoolteacher he met at the wrap party for his latest feature.

Back in bed with Martin again, Tomas more or less offers himself up, resulting in sex that could be a bid for forgiveness, a reconciliation, a sad acknowledgment of enduring feelings or a manipulative attempt by Tomas to keep a hold on his husband while continuing to explore a new relationship. Or it could be all of those things.

Like the movie’s other sex scenes, it’s dramatically loaded, and although it’s shot in a single take with no artful draping of the sheets, it’s hardly graphic...

The prim attitude toward sex in American movies goes beyond MPA rulings to Hollywood itself. Sex and unapologetic sensuality have been all but banished from the mainstream since the heyday of erotic thrillers in the 1980s and early ‘90s — films like Dressed to Kill, American Gigolo, Body Heat, Basic Instinct, 9½ Weeks, The Last Seduction, Color of Night and Sliver. People onscreen were getting laid and loving it back then.

What happened to make American movies so desexualized? As the holdover artistic spirit of the emancipated ‘70s faded further into the distance, studios became increasingly corporate and less creative in their thinking. In order to be profitable, movies had to play not only across the U.S. — including conservative Red states and Bible Belt regions — but internationally, where many countries have rigidly imposed codes concerning sex and nudity.

The ascendance of the superhero movie has been another nail in the coffin of sensuality. In the Superman films of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, there was most definitely something cooking between Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder. But in the more recent wave of comic book-inspired action fare, the protagonists are so sexless they might as well be genital-free Kens and Barbies...

Where, in film, is the supposed sex-positive movement that has become part of the cultural conversation? Cable and streaming platforms have stepped into the breach with shows that don’t hold back on steamy content — think Girls, Insecure, P-Valley, Bridgerton, Game of Thrones, Euphoria and The White Lotus.

So is the dearth of grownup attitudes toward sex and sensuality on big screens a stagnant situation or a step backwards? Many would argue convincingly that it’s been that way since the late ‘90s. But it’s also conceivable that we’re in a unique perfect-storm moment, where far-right conservatism has converged with post-MeToo liberal timidity. On social media, some Gen-Z filmgoers have even questioned whether sex scenes have a place in movies. Seriously, kids, you need to get out more.

The presence of intimacy coordinators on set has no doubt helped to ensure an environment of increased safety and trust for actors, establishing essential boundaries of body autonomy. But unlike so many uninhibited European screen stars, the majority of major-name American performers remain shy about stripping down and going at it.

Witness Penn Badgley declaring his dislike of filming intimate scenes and his insistence on less sex and skin for his character in season 4 of Netflix’s You out of respect for his marriage. “That aspect of Hollywood has always been very disturbing to me,” said the actor in a Variety interview. But many of us who bemoan the shortage of full-blooded sensuality at the multiplex might wonder which Hollywood he’s talking about.'

[thebiasrekkers]

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 01: Strength of Silence

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, eventual smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,964

Tag List: @luxekook​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @stillcopingxx​, @taevkimchi​, @aroseforyoongi​, @vivpurple7​, @happilystrongthroughthedark​, @sw33tnight​, @nikkitane​, 

AN: Sorry this has taken so long for me to get out. With all the madness happening in the world, I just needed a break and decided to throw myself into just writing. I’ve received so much love on the prologue for this series so I’m happy to present you all with the first chapter. It’s a hefty time jump, but who doesn’t like one of those, am I right? If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to drop me a line!

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Silence is a great source of strength.” - Lao Tzu

23 Years Later

Yoongi sat on the edge of a large rock, his eyes peering out over the deep grays and blues of the wide mountainous landscape. Summer mornings were his favorite and while he knew he could get an extra hour or two of sleep, seeing the sun rise above the mountain tops always filled him with a new vigor. There was just something about greeting the day that allowed him to truly feel alive. He could never fully explain it.

A soft whimper issued beside him and he craned his neck to look at the gray and black wolf seated at his feet. Pulling the sprig of barley from his mouth, Yoongi reached down to pet the wolf’s head and it panted happily in response; its thick tail swinging back and forth at the attention it received from its master. It made a small noise from pleasure, the sound of its panting intensifying little by little with each pet.

Chuckling, he scratched the canine between its ears. “You’re so needy, San-ah,” he teased, watching the wolf stand on all fours as he peered his pale blue eyes up at him. “You’ve got to be the luckiest fool in the entire kingdom of Joseon.”

The wolf barked happily, spinning in place, and then plopped his rump back down on the grass. This caused Yoongi to laugh loudly and he waved the barley sprig at the wolf’s nose. 

Growing up in the countryside, it wasn’t uncommon for wolves to linger around in the forests and mountains. But for a young cub to get abandoned during the Winter was more than Yoongi could stand. After begging his father to let him take the small wolf pup home, promising to take care of him, the two of them were inseparable. The other villagers were concerned with Yoongi raising a predator. But after being at his side for the last four years, the village came to appreciate San and often showered him with the same amount of affection as he did; if not more.

Yoongi could safely say that San was his best friend in the world. 

The wolf leaped up, pressing his large paws into Yoongi’s lap and began licking his face. San’s tongue caressed over the scar tissue on the right side of his face and he gently shoved the animal away. His fingers pressed over the scar, tracing the pads up from his cheek all the way above his eyebrow. Sighing, he tossed the barley sprig away and motioned for San to follow him just as the morning sun crested over the mountains. 

“Let’s head back,” he said, reaching down behind the rock to pick up the large wooden pail of spring water, “you know how the old man gets when he doesn’t have his morning tea.”

Again, San barked, before tearing off ahead of him to sniff out the trail. Yoongi could navigate his way through the forest and mountains with his eyes closed, but his companion always insisted on being careful. He’d barely made it twenty paces before the wolf returned and walked patiently at his side. 

The trek through the forest and down the mountain path was short, but only because Yoongi knew it so well. San barreled down the expansive green hill just as his father appeared from the doorway, a large axe draped over his shoulders. Yoongi rushed down the hill with hurried steps, cradling the wooden bucket in his arms so he wouldn’t accidentally spill the water in his haste.

“Father!” Yoongi called, to which the broad-shouldered and bronze-skinned man lifted his head just as he finished petting San’s back. “I can take care of that!” 

The lower half of his father’s face was covered in facial hair; always well-groomed. His dark eyes, while usually intimidating, always held a certain degree of warmth in them when he looked at Yoongi. Instead of answering him, he simply straightened his posture and proceeded to head toward the side of their modest home to proceed cutting wood for the fire.

Sighing, Yoongi gave up trying to convince his father to let him take care of the more laborious chores again. Instead, he shooed San into the house and started preparing breakfast. It didn’t take Yoongi long to see they were missing quite a few things from the food storage that would need to be replaced soon. Namely eggs, meat, and a few key vegetables.

“I’ll just have to do what I can,” he murmured as he began washing the barley in a small basin. Yoongi frowned. This wouldn’t be an issue if we lived closer to the village.

It wasn’t the first time he bitterly thought of how inconveniently far away they lived from the rest of the world. Yoongi only could go as far as the local village and that was a task and a half trying to convince his father to let him do even just that. When his father left every few years for days at a time to visit the Capital, Yoongi was forced to stay behind. He’d never been to the Crown City, not once. But he wanted to, insisting that he could get better books and even practice a trade or go to school. He could start working to take care of the household for a change.

Every time the matter was brought up, however, his father scowled and forbade him from thinking or speaking such foolishness. But to Yoongi, it wasn’t foolish. He believed he was trying to do his best by his father in wanting to take care of him. What father wouldn’t want that for their son? Why did he have to grow up differently from everyone else?

What little education he received was all self-taught. He kept most of his studies a secret, not wanting to anger or worry his father. But he knew that he would eventually have to marry and raise a family. Since his father didn’t want to pass along his knowledge, he had little choice but to strike out on his own and do what he could. His father wouldn’t be around forever and he couldn’t expect to spend his youth idling around.

The one thing his father did teach him, much to Yoongi’s persistence, was the ability to fight. 

A humble breakfast was completed and the two of them ate in relative silence. He watched his father sneak a few pieces of meat to San and the wolf lovingly spread itself across his lap. Yoongi shoved rice into his mouth in annoyance, chewing loudly but knowing that it wouldn’t actually bother either of them into paying him any attention.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to stop doing that?” Yoongi asked mid-chew. “He’s spoiled now because of you.”

His father leaned back and released a hearty chuckle that never failed to warm Yoongi’s heart. “Did I? I can’t recall.”

He scoffed, grabbing some of the spinach out of one of the wooden bowls. “Of course you can’t.” 

His eyes caught the scars on his father’s arms as he rubbed his hands lovingly over San’s fur. They were sword scars. Yoongi knew this, even if his father never told him so. Training him in martial arts was a clear enough indication that his father must have been a seasoned warrior in his younger years. The harshness of his training regiment was proof enough for Yoongi.

Min Dojin. 

His father never spoke much about his past, or even about Yoongi’s mother. After a childish tantrum, he came to accept that his mother must have died sometime after he was born. Those were the words that the villagers passed on and they never pitied Yoongi. It wasn’t because they were heartless. It was just a factor of life in their country. If anything, he was fortunate to still have his father, freeing him from the shackle of being branded an orphan. 

But on lonely nights, Yoongi missed the warmth of a mother’s embrace. Something he wasn’t familiar with, but felt that it was a distant memory that refused to fade from his mind. 

“There’s some money in the lock box if you need anything,” his father said suddenly, slicing through his thoughts.

He blinked, realizing that his father already cleared the dishes away. Had he spaced out that much? Scrambling to his feet, he tried to follow after his father and nearly tripped over San circling in between his legs. 

“Are you leaving for the Capital?”

A frown touched his father’s features. “Yes.”

Yoongi felt his brows furrow. He knew how much his father despised going to the Crown City and never understood why. Even though he offered to run his father’s errands for him, he was denied every opportunity to travel that far from home. It clearly wasn’t for his own safety. Yoongi could more than take care of himself. But he didn’t have the heart to accuse his own father of keeping anything from him.

“How long will you be gone this time?”

“Two weeks.”

Again, he blinked. This time from surprise. “T-That long?!” His eyes followed after his father as he began gathering his traveling satchel and walking cane. “You’re going to leave me here alone?”

His father chuckled as he turned and raised his brows at his son. “You have San.”

Folding his arms across his chest, he frowned. “You’re just so funny, Father.”

He laughed again. “Kali promised she would come by to check on you if you needed anything.”

“Kali-ssi?” A soft warmth touched his cheeks at the mention of Kali and he quickly averted his gaze. Yoongi cleared his throat loudly as he placed a hand on the back of his neck. “She needn’t bother.”

He could see his father’s cheeky grin without even having to look at it. “I asked her to.” Yoongi whipped his head around to peer into his father’s eyes. “She said she had some interesting stories to share with you.” His grin widened a measure. “And maybe a gift or two?”

Yoongi slid his fingers through his cropped bangs, tugging at them for a measure. “I see,” was all he said as he rubbed his hair between his thumb and forefinger. 

With a grunt, his father shouldered his satchel more comfortably and made his way toward the entrance of their home. San followed after him but stopped at the entryway, his tail wagging as he uttered a guttural whine from his throat. Yoongi watched his father lean down to pet the wolf between his ears, his eyes lifting to meet his own.

“If anything happens--”

“I know,” Yoongi replied softly, “take everything in the lock box and abandon the house.” He sighed. “Have a safe journey.”

He felt his father’s large hand fall onto his shoulder and for a moment, all they did was share a silent look. His father’s smile looked noticeably more solemn than usual. He patted Yoongi’s shoulder, then turned and made his way toward the edge of the forest. San barked after him before bolting off to chase a cluster of butterflies. Yoongi waited until his father disappeared from view before retreating back into the house. 

No matter how hard he tried, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten with worry.

Yoon sat perched in one of the large magnolia trees in his palace garden. He cradled his plum colored crown in his arms, the rich cobalt of his silk robes reflecting from the sunlight. The silver dragons embroidered in his clothing seemed to shimmer against the morning light and he sighed as he peered through the tree’s canopy. Eunuchs and maidservants alike were running around through his palace courtyard and he remained silent - purposely ignoring their screaming pleas for him to come out from hiding.

He scoffed, sliding his hands behind his head as he leaned back further into the trunk of the tree. No one’s hiding, he thought bitterly, you’re all just too incompetent to find me.

“Cheo-ha,” came a sharp whisper from above him, causing Yoon to sit up abruptly. 

“Who’s there?” he called back quietly, glancing every so often down to make sure none of his attendants heard him. “Reveal yourself!”

A long plaited braid suddenly dangled from above as he saw his younger sister’s face flashing an upside down smile. His frown deepened, not sure what her intentions were but Yoon knew he wanted nothing to do with them. She made a satisfied noise before dropping down hard into his lap. Yoon grunted, his arms flailing to both keep his balance and to maintain a hold of his crown. The princess plucked it easily from the air, preventing it from falling.

“You shouldn’t be so careless with your things, Crown Prince,” she said while smiling up at him. 

“It’s none of your concern,” Yoon snapped, attempting to snatch it back from her but she stretched her arms up and away from him. He threw her a harsh glare. “Saeryung-ah…” His tone dropped in a clear warning.

Saeryung pouted before she sighed. “Fine. You’re always no fun.” She motioned for him to lean forward a bit. “Let me put it back on for you.”

“Do as you like,” he said, leaning forward so she could replace the crown over his platinum blonde hair. Once it was situated comfortably, he peered at her as she continued to pout, kicking her legs up and down while still in his lap. “Why are you here, Saeryung-ah? Don’t you have lessons to attend to with your teacher?”

The princess puffed out one of her cheeks defiantly while folding her arms across her chest in a completely unbecoming fashion for female royals. “I’ve already memorized The Book of Filial Piety!”

Yoon sighed. “There are other books that you need to study from.” He reached out and pet his sister’s head and she turned to look at him. “Being a princess isn’t just a title. You have other responsibilities.”

“Not nearly as many as you do, Orabeoni.” 

The term caught Yoon off guard and he could only blink in stunned silence at her. The Princess must have realized her slipup because she quickly covered her mouth and gasped sharply. However, instead of chastising her, Yoon poked at her nose. Ever since he became Crown Prince, his studies and responsibilities steadily increased. His father was still able to rule the country, but there were disturbing rumors in the palace walls that spoke of his failing health. If that were the truth, then it would only be a matter of time before he was left to ascend to the throne.

Saeryung wouldn’t have any more opportunities to call him “big brother” when that day came.

“Forgive me, Crown Prince! I didn’t mean--”

“It’s fine, Saeryung-ah,” Yoon replied in a soothing tone as he petted her head again, “until I’m King, you can call me your Orabeoni.”

Her apologetic expression melted into one of pure joy. He smirked, then narrowed his eyes and pointed at her nose. She crossed her eyes at the sudden gesture.

“But you can only call me such when it is just the two of us. Understood?”

She nodded happily and was about to hug him when sudden outcries reached them from below.

“Seja Cheo-ha! Gongju-nim!”

“You both must come down from there at once!”

“We will be in terrible trouble if His Majesty finds out we were not at your sides!”

The two of them gazed down at their attendants frantically shifting below them. Rolling his eyes, Yoon scooped up his sister into his arms. Gasping slightly, she clung to his neck as he shifted to a standing position in the tree. His attendants continued to move about fearfully, screaming for him to be careful. He bit back a growl before leaping from the tree and into the air. His robes fluttered around him and he landed easily on the ground, setting his sister down and her servants were immediately at her side to straighten out her hair and robes.

“Princess, you shouldn’t be climbing trees like that!” her maid fussed as she finished tidying up Saeryung’s appearance. “Her Majesty, the Queen, would be appalled if she discovered it.”

Namgil, Yoon’s eunuch, appeared at his side and also adjusted his royal robes. He waited patiently for him to finish, not really listening to the slew of things flying from his attendant’s mouth. However, one particular sentence stood out and caused Yoon to pause, craning his neck to look straight into Namgil’s face.

“What did you say?” he asked, raising a curious brow.

The eunuch bowed his head low, unsure if he’d offended the Crown Prince or not. “Your Majesty requests your presence in his study.”

Yoon was suspicious. His father never called for him in his personal study. Let alone in the middle of the day. The King was fully aware of his itinerary for the afternoon. Yoon was scheduled for martial arts training and riding lessons. Was he supposed to rush through whatever matter his father wanted to speak with him about and make his instructors wait? 

If Father is in his study, then it’s a personal matter, Yoon surmised, sighing as he clasped his hands behind his back, which is surprising all by itself.

Narrowing his eyes, he gestured for Namgil to lead the way. He took two steps forward and paused to look around. “...where’s Bidam?”

Just as confused as he was, Namgil spun his body in every direction before groaning. “Curse that Bidam! Leaving the Crown Prince’s side for even a moment!”

Leaves rustled to his right and Yoon quickly pivoted on his back heel to avoid whatever was aimed for him. A sharp whistle tore through the air and he dipped down, his knee crashing to the grass as his shoulders tensed. He was on high alert now after two attacks were propelled in his direction. There would not be a third attempt while he was unarmed.

Namgil screamed after him as Yoon dashed toward the edge of the steps leading to his palace. Reaching underneath the wooden floor panels, he slid a sword from the sheath with one clean motion just as another object hurled itself directly at his head. Lifting the blade up, he blocked the object and felt the handle rattle between his fingers. Something landed at his feet and Yoon recognized it as a throwing knife. Smirking, the Crown Prince took a breath and swept the blade across his body.

Focus, he told himself, you know that he’s here. You just have to pinpoint his location.

The heavy thud of his own heart ached inside of Yoon’s chest. A bead of sweat formed on his brow and he was keenly aware that Namgil and the servants fled the scene. Probably to go fetch the Royal Guard. It was so unnecessary. He wasn’t defenseless. He’d made damn sure of that. 

Yoon licked his lips, the flutter of sparrow wings the signal he needed. Launching from his position, he roared at a nearby cluster of bushes. Seconds before he swept his blade down over the hedge, a body leaped from behind. Metal clashed against metal as sword blades made contact. Yoon felt his crown shift on his head before falling to the ground, revealing his pale hair in the morning sunlight. His muscles tensed when the sword clashed against his blade, forcing his boots to skid along the ground and he was now face to face with his assailant.

He grinned. “There you are, Bidam-ah.” Yoon’s voice was slightly strained from the force pushing against him.

Bidam, his bodyguard, grinned back at him. His dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, his thick brows lifting teasingly as he continued to push all of his weight behind his sword. “Good Morning, Seja Cheo-ha,” he said, sweat falling from his temple, “you’re a little slow this morning. Is your mind elsewhere, Your Highness?”

Yoon scoffed, taking a step forward and forcing Bidam to take one back. “My mind is always elsewhere. Haven’t you realized that by now?” 

He swung his leg out to kick Bidam but his bodyguard predicted this. He watched as Bidam backward somersaulted into the air. Just when Yoon was going to unleash his counterattack, several sets of feet thundered into his palace garden. He lowered his stance and Bidam immediately sheathed his sword as the Queen and her attendants rushed inside, followed swiftly by the Royal Guard. Yoon bit back a groan at the fearful expression etched over his mother’s features.

“Seja!” she cried, all but running to him. “Are you alright, my Prince?!” He stood patiently as she looked over his entire body to make sure that he was, in fact, free of injuries. “I feared the worst!”

A small measure of guilt welled up inside of Yoon’s heart. He wished his mother would stop needlessly worrying over him. “I am fine , Mother. I was training with Bidam.” He cast a casual smirk to Bidam who met his gaze briefly before lowering his head. “Right, Bidam-ah?”

Bidam immediately fell to one knee, one arm crossing his chest as he pounded his fist into his collar. “Forgive me for stirring up chaos in the Palace, Your Majesty.”

The Queen’s shoulders visibly sank and her attendants were at her side to keep her from losing her balance. Namgil retrieved the prince’s crown and handed it back to him. He held it out to his mother who took it in her trembling hands as she watched Yoon lower himself at the Queen’s feet. Some of the servants gasped and whispered to each other and the Prince continued to stare at the patch of grass around the hems of his mother’s robes.

Hearing her sigh, she gently set his crown back atop his head, her gentle hands framing his face. She lifted his head so that he was now staring up at her. “It is good to train your body and mind, My Prince, but please be careful. You are the future father of this nation. If your body is harmed, your people are harmed. When your people are sick, you are sick. Do you understand, Seja?”

“Yes, Mother. I understand.” Standing to his full height, he let his mother take his hands into hers. Her fingers caressed over his knuckles. 

“Your Father was asking for you, wasn’t he?” The Queen looped her arm through his. “Would you allow your mother to accompany you?”

“Of course,” Yoon said with a wide flourish of his arm, “but I thought you were scheduled to have tea with the Queen Dowager and the princesses?”

The Queen hummed and nodded as they moved through the gardens of his palace and out over the bridge leading to the main palace. “I can take the time to escort the Crown Prince to his own destination.” 

Yoon’s entourage walked alongside his mother’s and they all chatted together in polite levels so as to not disturb the Queen and Crown Prince’s conversation. The days were peaceful, but mostly in part to how well-guarded the Palace was from the chaos of the outside world. But Yoon was no fool. Ming was growing restless because of Japanese opposition. It would only be a matter of time before Japan would attempt its invasion of Joseon in order to sink their claws into Ming.

He wondered if his father had any contingencies in place if such a thing were to actually transpire.

Arriving at the main palace gates, the Queen released Yoon’s arm and smiled. “Enjoy your time with your father, Seja.”

Yoon bowed, as did the rest of his servants. “Be well, Eomma Mama.” He waited until his mother and attendants were out of sight before turning back to face the main gate. “Let’s go.”

[fuckyeahexofics]

[AO3] Last Words of a Shooting Star

Title: Last Words of a Shooting Star Author: TBA/baeconandeggs Pairing: Baekhyun/Chanyeol Status: Complete Length: Chaptered Rating: NC-17 Genre: Dystopia, Angst 

Warnings: Prostitution, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Abuse

Summary: This is a museum, they’re the art pieces, they’re here solely to be admired. And in a world where love is prohibited and considered a dangerous disease, Baekhyun and Chanyeol fall in love. Admin Cat: BAE is here! One of the fic fest I look forward to and a great way to discover new authors! I’m in love with this fic, not going to spoil it too much here but this one is definitely worth the read. 

We’re in the midst of creating a masterlist for this round of BAE, so keep a look out for it!

[thechanbaeklibrary]

Summary: Baekhyun has been dealt the tough cards in life. No matter how much he tries to run away from his past, it seems to catch up to him. In one final desperate attempt to finally free himself of it, he meets someone that finally tempts him to stop running. Author: serenitysebaeks for baeconandeggs Length: threeshot  Sidepairing: kaibaek Status: Completed Genre: romance, smut, fluff, drama, angst, art thief baekhyun, art museum curator chanyeol, hurt/comfort Rating: NC-17

Admin Shiba: This is SO GOOD. The way it’s written is absolutely amazing, and their relationship was so cute, even though there was the lingering tension over the fact that Baekhyun was going to steal the paintings and hurt chanyeol in the end :( the ending was so cute affdjlskfj they love each other so much :(

[kaisooficrec]

La Taille Parfaite

Author: saccharineflower

Genre: Wolf AU, A/B/O, College AU, Smut, Crack, Fluff, Romance

Rating: NC-17

Kinks/Warnings: Top Kai, Size Kink, Knotting

Length: Chaptered (ongoing)

Summary: Kyungsoo starts to have dreams about his unknown mate's gist, which happen to be a large dick. And as a fine arts student, things start to get... sketchy. Literally and figuratively.

Admin Macaroon’s Notes: the title of the fic means ‘the perfect size’ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) i’m very excited for this fic! as of today there’s only 2 chapters out and I can’t wait for more!! loving the ‘dreaming of your mate’s dick’ part a LOT

Read.

[maybeformepersonally]

Fic: you are the choice i'll keep making

Title: you are the choice i'll keep making Author: maybeformepersonally Rating: NC-17 / Explicit Summary: In a universe where soulmates travel forward in time once in their lifetime to be with their bonded and solidify their relationship, 23-year-old Phil jumps forward to 2019. Word Count: 13,271 Author’s Note: I wrote this for the @phandomreversebang. I want to thank the admins on the PBR for organising this. And a special thanks to my team, @jorzuela and @agathelight, for their support and patience with me. Thank you to @agathelight for betaing this fic and putting up with my terrible time management skills, any mistakes that remain are solely my fault; and to @jorzuela for making the beautiful art to accompany my fic!

                                             [art by @jorzuela]

Masterpost for the art

Read on AO3

 Dan is pondering the merits of getting up for a snack. They’re having a pajama week to unwind and recharge before they emerge from their little holiday, so they’ve been mostly lazing around the house and catching up with some tv shows.

 Now that Phil’s birthday week is over, they figured they’d take a few days for themselves, not their audience, not their friends and family, just the two of them in their shared home.

 Phil had insisted he needed to top off the bird feeders before they settled down to watch something, even though they had filled it to the brim less than 12 hours ago, but he shouldn’t take longer than a couple minutes, so Dan had rolled his eyes at him and let him go enable the overweight pigeons living off Phil’s soft spot for any and all animals.

 Dan decides not to get a snack, after all. He’s not that hungry and he doesn’t really feel like getting up. They can find something to eat later. Something to “put them on”, Dan thinks with a grin. Phil’s northern vernacular will never stop being charming, probably.

 Speaking of, where is he? Topping off the feeder shouldn’t take him this long.

 ***

  Soulmates are and have been a point of contention since the dawn of time. Religions the world over had tried to impose their own interpretation of what the jump meant, entire libraries could be filled with both fictional stories and philosophical speculation about the biological, social and cultural implications of the bonds. Academic circles are, to this day, firmly split into two camps: the metaphysical paradigm that asserts there’s such a thing as non-physical bonds that tie people who are destined to be together; and the agentic paradigm, which argues that what creates the bonds in the first place is our decisions to be with someone and the work we put into strengthening and maintaining such bonds. This interpretation would explain why there’s been reported cases of a single individual having more than one “soulmate” in the course of their life, whether consecutively or concurrently, as well as why the jumps normally happen after the pair have been together for a while. Anecdotal evidence and later systematic analysis of data both appear to confirm this thesis in that the jump never happens before the individual has “decided” to stay with the other person(s). However, despite the paradigm shift that has occurred in the modern age, many people still favour either the metaphysical interpretation or a fusion of both of them, and the idea that there is “someone out there made for every one of us” is still a ubiquitous trope in media.

 ***

  Dan sees him first. Phil. Phil as Dan had first met him, emo hair and plaid shirt and bony angles, looking around cautiously, everything from his posture to the tight expression on his face telegraphing his fear. Dan can read Phil better than anyone, but he thinks even a complete stranger would probably be able to see it. He looks so young. He is so beautiful. It makes Dan breathless.

 “Phil.” Dan tries to call his attention gently, but Phil still jumps and almost ends up on the floor. He puts his right hand to his chest and clings to the wall with the other one. They stare at each other for a few seconds, before Phil seems to deflate, worry seemingly evaporating and leaving him unsteady.

 “I wanted it to be you.” Phil lets out a small, wet, shaky laugh, and wipes the stray tears from his cheeks as soon as they start to fall. “I wanted it to be you so bad.”

 Before he realises he’s made the decision to move, Dan is in front of him, wrapping him in his arms and holding on tightly. Phil clings to him desperately and lets himself cry into Dan’s comforting shoulder. Dan’s broader shoulder. It’s a bit unsettling, but this is still Dan, and Phil is dizzy with relief at the concrete physical evidence that it was Dan, that he’d been right, that it had always been Dan.

 “I’ve got you,” Dan whispers into his ear, “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here. I love you. It’s okay to let it out. I love you so much, Phil. I’m here.”

 (Dan would say, “I knew it”, in an almost whisper, a shaky breath laced with a bone-deep certainty. The raw emotional delivery did nothing to conceal the conviction of the words. “I knew it was you.” Phil would ask him, later, much later, after the whole thing was over, how he’d been so sure. Dan couldn’t explain it to him, he just knew.

 “Remind me again how I’m the one who believes in fate of the two of us?”

 “It wasn’t fate that brought us together, Phil. It was luck, and effort on my part at first, and on both our parts later, to make it work. That’s what makes it so special. Not that it’d inevitably happen. But that it could have never happened, but it did. And we’re the ones who made it last.”

 Phil wouldn’t answer with words. He’d shake his head in wonder and bury his face in Dan’s neck, breathe him in, wrap his arms around this man who still made him weak in the knees, still made him giddy with excitement, still made him nervous, the good kind of nervous, the kind that came from hopeless infatuation, from the exhilaration of having your affections returned, from seeing the future stretch out before you and being eager rather than scared because you knew you’ll have your person beside you every step of the way. And he’d let it be.)

 ***

  Dan knew it'd be Phil for him because he never believed in fate. Dan knew it'd be Phil because Phil is the one Dan chose, and by the time the jump happened to him, he was comfortably three years into this relationship that was better than anything Dan could have dreamed of as a depressed, pessimistic teenager who didn’t even know what having a best friend was like. By the time it happened, he knew that he'd chosen well and that Phil wouldn't leave him, that Phil (impossibly) really did love him as fiercely as Dan loved him, that Phil was more than deserving of Dan's trust and devotion and love.

 ***

  Phil's jump happens shortly before their first year anniversary. Phil has made his decision, but no matter how right it feels, no matter how much and how obviously Dan loves him, Phil is still afraid.

 He's never felt this way before. This is what he’s been hoping for, what all the films and books and songs were about, he’s been craving this for years and finally it was here and there was a lot he hadn’t anticipated: the way Dan was on his mind all the time, all day, no matter what he was doing, like Dan had made his way under his skin and laid claim to his mind (Phil supposed that in a way he had); the painful clench in his chest when Dan had to say goodbye at the train platform and they’d have to be apart for days or weeks, sometimes without even knowing when they’d get to hold each other again; the knot in his throat as he made his way back home after watching Dan go into the train with heavy shoulders and sad eyes, and Phil knew that Dan would be miserable until they met again; the spike of excitement every time he got a message from Dan, or a tweet, or a call. But of all the things he hadn’t foreseen, the one that surprised him the most was the fear. The fear was always in the back of his mind, indistinct and amorphous. It changed shape and intensity, but it never quite left. When Phil was particularly happy, especially when Dan was within physical reach but sometimes when they were skyping too, the fear dissipated until Phil forgot about it, a nebulous mist that didn’t weigh on him at all. But then the call ended, or Dan had to go back home, and it resolidified into a more palpable form.

 What if meeting was a bad idea? What if Dan was disappointed when they met IRL? What if Phil couldn’t meet Dan’s expectations? Surely they’d talked enough through comments and DMs and Skype that Dan had got to know him beyond the Amazingphil persona? Did Dan really mean it when he flirted with Phil online? (And he did, constantly.) What if Dan wasn’t attracted to him in person? Phil couldn’t control what he looked like IRL like he could on the screen, couldn’t select the perfect angle, pick and choose and edit and filter. (It didn’t occur to him that Dan couldn’t either. It was irrelevant because Phil already knew he fancied him, would fancy him with bad lighting and from terrible angles, with eyebags and spots and his dreaded naturally curly hair that Dan hated so much and Phil not-so-secretly thought was really cute.)

 And then they’d met, finally, finally, and Dan was even more beautiful in the flesh, and more nervous too, but still just as interested in Phil, still just as keen on everything Phil had to say, and after the perfect first day together Dan had kissed him, and Phil felt his heart do something it had never done before in his chest. He’d been so happy at the time he didn’t notice the fear was still there until Dan was gone.

 Ultimately, what the fear came down to was: was Dan as serious about this as Phil was?

 Dan is younger than him; he's young and driven and talented and so lovely and sure, he wants Phil now, loves Phil now, but he's starting uni soon, and he's so young. Phil remembers being a teenager scared about the next step in his life (he’s still scared about that too, to be honest, but lately everything seems to be falling into place and Dan is a part of that,) it might only have been five years, but it feels like a lifetime. Phil feels like a different person, and it scares him to think that Dan might become a different person too, a person who doesn’t want him. Dan is still struggling to decide what he wants in life other than YouTube (and Phil) and who knows what he'll want a year from now, five, ten.

 The crux of the matter is: Phil wants it to be Dan, but Dan just turned nineteen, and Phil knows a lifetime commitment is too much to ask of a nineteen year old who feels so adrift and so desperate for a genuine connection that he agreed to take a three-hour-train to spend a long weekend in the house of a man he met on the internet. 

***

 The jumps propell the bonded forward in time to a point in their future when they are with their soulmate, but there seems to be no rhyme or reason to it. Some jumps cover decades, while others only go forward a few days. Some jumps last for a few minutes (the shortest on record spanned 13 minutes and 48 seconds), while some take days, with the longest known being over two weeks.

 ***

 Phil encases his face between his hands and holds him there, held him close. “Let me look at you.”

 Dan knows he’s flushed with emotion, knows his own eyes are taking in this younger Phil just as much as Phil’s are studying him.

 “God, you still look at me like that?” Phil sounds wrecked, and like he might start crying again any moment now. Dan wants to hold him tight, wants to kiss him, wants to shield him from any bad thing in the world. Wants, most of all, to make him happy.

 “Yeah,” Dan drawls, soft with overwhelming love for this young man. “I get teased about it all the time. Mostly by you.”

 Phil keeps staring at him in silence, looking dazed. He brings his left hand to Dan’s curls, pats them lightly to watch them spring back into place. From there he goes to Dan’s hoop earring, running a finger down his ear and following the motion with an amazed expression, down to Dan’s exposed collarbones and latching on to the denim jacket covering the white t-shirt that his own Phil, 32-year-old Phil, loves so much. Dan likes to joke it’s because you can make out his nipples through the thin fabric. He knows he isn’t entirely wrong.

 He spares a thought to be thankful that the cold prompted him to get dressed this morning. He likes that he’s looking good for this. For Phil.

 “Oh my god.” Phil is covering his mouth with one hand like he used to do back in the beginning, back when they first met. Back before Dan sweet talked him out of covering up his gorgeous smile which Dan loved so much. Back when some stupid teenage boys’ cutting words still resonated somewhere inside Phil’s head, making him self conscious about some of his best features. Dan’s always been a pacifist, but there’s been times he’s really wanted to cut a bitch.

 It’s still so cute. If Dan didn’t know why he used to do it, he would miss it more.

 “You look like the really cool bad boy protagonist from a movie. The kind I’d fantasize about but could never hope to get in real life.”

 The words hit Dan like a physical blow and wipe the smile he hadn’t even realised he’d settled on.. The sentiment is so backwards that it makes his chest tighten, makes his stomach swoop and a choked feeling to lodge in his throat. Dan knows Phil harbours some insecurities, that it’s only human to do so, but it doesn’t make him hate it any less. Phil should know how wonderful he is.

 “Phil…” his voice is soft and quiet. Somewhere between admonishing and pleading.

 Phil gives a little breathless laugh, eyes never straying from Dan’s face. “It’s true,” he insists. His smile belies his self-effacing words, and Dan is weak for that smile.

 “You got me.”

 Dan frames Phil’s face in his big hands and slowly draws him closer, closer still, maintaining eye contact that feels too intense, too wrought with emotion, but Phil doesn’t look away, doesn’t close his eyes until after their lips have connected.

 ***

 There is no definitive guide on the soulmate phenomenon, as no general consensus has been reached on the matter; but as expected from a topic that has fascinated and mystified humanity for as long as we can be considered such (i.e. for all of human history), there is a wealth of knowledge accrued on the subject.

 The highlights are as follows. ‘Soulmates’ share a strong connection, though it might take a long time for that connection to form. The bond requires a certain level of commitment before the jump can take place, and there is overwhelming evidence confirming that the jump will not occur unless both individuals involved have consciously committed to one another. The bond is often romantic in nature, but it needs not be. It can be consummated sexually, but this is not a requirement, and there are countless known instances of both romantic and platonic bonds that were never physically consummated. While rare, the bond does not require a physical meeting at all, there have been cases of soulmates who established their connection through correspondence and met for the first time during their jump. This has become less rare with the developments of technology and the advent of the internet, but it still represents a small percentage overall. People can have one soulmate in their lifetime, or they can have multiple ones, or none at all. Children can’t be part of such a bond, even a platonic one; our current understanding is that children lack the psychological maturity to knowingly and conscientiously decide to commit to someone at the required level. Teenagers can form this bond, very, very rarely. Statistics calculate that the number of teenagers to form this bond (i.e. younger than 18-years-old) is slightly less than 0.0003% of all bonds. The youngest recorded cases were of 15-year-olds, all of them bonded to older individuals. But soulmate bonds normally happen in adulthood, becoming more statistically likely the older the person gets, the mode (highest concentration of bonded cases) is 45, with a sustained number of cases from ages 32 to 56, until the curve starts to descend again around 57 years old.

 ***

 Phil keeps staring at him. It is actually worse than those first few months when they got together. Back then, he at least tried not to be too obvious, but now he doesn’t seem to care; perhaps due to the confirmation from the universe that Dan is here to stay, possibly because he can see this Dan isn’t shy about it at all, quite the contrary. Dan has always enjoyed Phil’s eyes on him, but a full decade of work on himself and his own insecurities, and the same amount of time of steadfast love and support to get used to the intensity of the emotions sparked by Phil’s stare on him… well, they’ve made a difference. He’s never quite shied away from Phil’s visibly appreciative eyes (well, not since they first met IRL, anyway), but he used to feel self-conscious. Like Phil’s focused attention might at any moment reveal Dan’s own shortcomings and Phil might change his mind. Of course, that never happened.

 Now, Dan preens a little under Phil’s attention, and, as always, he stares back.

 ***

 Dan was the one who brought it up first. It was on their postponed Portugal trip. They’d been markedly affectionate the whole trip, more so than usual even. Phil felt touch-starved, he couldn’t get enough of touching Dan. It had only been a week since he’d been with Dan before the trip, but Phil had been feeling the distance even more keenly than usual, and Dan had been just as affected if their skype calls were anything to go by.

 Phil kept expecting the gaping need he felt in his chest whenever Dan wasn’t within touching distance to abate, for this yearning to be assuaged and the longing to settle into something more manageable. It’s what everyone said would happen after he’d been with someone for a while. Except it’s been seven months and it’s only got worse. At least Dan seemed to be just as bad. And he was always so happy when Phil indulged himself by sitting too close or touching his arm or pretending to bite him. In fact, Dan had caught on pretty fast and he’d started being physically affectionate right back. (Phil especially liked it when Dan put his arm around him. He’d been the first person to do it, somehow, and Phil hadn’t expected he’d like it so much, but he did.)

 Phil had thought about it before that point, of course. Could not stop thinking about it, really, he loved Dan so much, was thinking about him all the time, of course he’d considered the possibility that Dan and he could be soulmates. But he didn’t know how to bring it up. They’d just celebrated their seven month anniversary, Dan had been with his ex-girlfriend for almost three years.

 They were drinking and lazing around on the beach when it happened, watching the sunset and babbling about whatever came to mind. Phil had flopped down at some point when the scenery started spinning a little, so he had his head on Dan’s lap. He was looking up at him, feeling warm and happy and in love (he was always feeling in love these days), and Dan had buried his fingers in Phil’s hair at some point and was gently scratching his scalp in a way that had Phil’s insides squirming happily. If Phil was a cat, he’d be purring right then and there.

 “Phil?”

 “Mmh?” Okay, maybe he wasn’t so far from purring all things considered.

 “If we’re soulmates, you’d be alright with me fucking the older version of you, right?”

 Phil was too comfortable and relaxed to do much more than chuckle from his place on the sand (and Dan’s lap). Of course that’s how he brought it up. Phil was too happy about it to mind, honestly, and he did raise a good question, to be fair.

 “Yeah,” Phil answered, grinning so wide his cheeks hurt a little. He’d been smiling so much lately, always did when he was with Dan. “That’s fine. I’d be worried if you didn’t want to, honestly.”

 “Cool.” Dan was smiling back just as wide. He looked gorgeous, flushed from the wine, with his hair tousled and his pretty collarbones fully on display in his sleeveless Howl shirt. His skin looked soft and extremely touchable in the sunlight. Phil raised his hand and poked his dimple.

 “I’m fucking older you too, by the way,” Phil told him.

 “Yeah, okay.” Dan said, then promptly turned his head and bit at Phil’s finger, which had them both giggling and poking each other for the next few minutes, until Dan blatantly cheated by tickling Phil’s sides until he surrendered.

 ***

 Dan had distractedly pushed Phil back while they kissed, until Phil bumped into the back of their sofa.

 Phil pulls back from the kiss breathing heavily, and seems content to look intently at Dan some more, idly rubbing Dan’s shoulders seemingly without noticing. “You’re so pretty. It’s unreal.”

 Dan huffs a fond laugh, pulls Phil a little closer by his grip on his waist. “Well, from my completely unbiased opinion as your soulmate, I can tell you, you are in fact the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

 “No, I’m not!” Phil protests, but he’s giggling and blushing brighter than before, and Dan can see the happiness practically radiating off him, so he just places a little kiss on Phil’s nose and smiles back really wide at Phil’s reaction.

 ***

 In many cultures, sexual contact during the jump was discouraged if the bonded pair were not already married at the time the bonded jumped forward, for fear of it resulting in a pregnancy that could not be justified to the spouse or the spouse’s family. While not very common, a lot of suspicious pregnancies were explained this way, leading social mores to frown upon the practise and, in some cases, to forbid it. While this wouldn’t matter for same-sex couples, the norm was considered universal, and romantic love being what it is, this rule was universally broken whenever bonded pairs had motive and opportunity.

  It is no longer viewed negatively, although some argue that couples should discuss the possibility ahead of time, as many people still feel uncomfortable with the thought of their partner being sexually involved with their future self.

***

 Dan guides Phil up the stairs to their room, squeezing his hand all the way there and only getting distracted by the vision of this younger Phil twice or thrice on the way.

 They kiss until Phil is breathless. Dan is keeping him flush against the wall and still Phil is grasping at Dan’s sweater and trying to pull him closer. Dan feels… firmer than he’s used to. His wandering hands have already confirmed that Dan must have taken up exercise at some point, if his arms and back are anything to go by. Phil is downright eager to do some further exploring.

 Before he can so much as catch his breath, however, Dan is running his hands down from where he’d been holding him by the hips, and without breaking eye contact he bends down to slide them down and around Phil’s thighs and grabs them firmly in those big, soft hands that Phil loves so much. The sensation is unexpectedly carnal, the trail left by Dan’s touch tingles and Phil is so hard he instinctually tries to grind against Dan, but Dan’s hold is strong enough to keep him in place. The combination of that thought and the feeling of Dan’s hands on him is enough to wring a soft moan from Phil’s throat. Then, in a practised move that makes Phil actually, in real life, honest to God fucking swoon, Dan rights himself and lifts Phil up with him, immediately trapping him between his own firm, wide chest and the even firmer wall. Phil can’t help a little scream of surprise, but he instinctively wraps his legs around Dan’s lower back anyway.

 Dan. Is holding him up against the wall. Dan is strong enough to pick him up and then continue to hold him up against the wall and that is so hot that Phil grabs his face in both hands and starts kissing him again, cock throbbing where it’s trapped against Dan’s chest.

 ***

 After Dan’s carried him to the bed and let him fall back on it carefully, he quickly finishes taking off his own clothes while Phil watches him intently. But he isn’t given much time to appreciate the sight before Dan is on him again, kissing the breath out of him, biting his shoulder in that way that’s so familiar, sucking on his nipples and dragging his tongue down his stomach, making Phil squirm.

 "What do you want?" Dan presses the words against the soft skin under his belly button.  Phil opens his mouth but the words stick in his throat, the barrage of different scenarios crashing together and causing a jam effectively prevent any one them from making it past his lips.  Dan looks up to him heatedly, his hands never stop their trek up and down the sensitive skin of his sides.

 When Phil doesn't speak, he drags his nails teasingly down his flanks, firm enough to have Phil's abs contracting at the unexpected jolt of pleasure and his hips lifting of their own accord. His erection rubs deliciously against Dan's collarbones, with only the fabric of his thin boxer briefs standing in the way.  "You can have everything you want, baby. There's nothing you could ask me that I wouldn't want to give you. You just need to decide what you want first." The words are low and soothing, punctuated by a firm kiss to the prominent freckle to the right of Phil's belly button.  "Fuck me," Phil blurts out. It wasn't so much a conscious decision as it was a gut feeling given a voice.  Dan's eyes don’t stray from him, the intensity of his gaze makes Phil shy, it makes him feel powerful, makes him want to preen and hide with equal intensity.

 Dan doesn’t move from between Phil’s thighs, however. He only shimmies down a little on the bed until his arms and shoulders are under Phil’s hips and his face is directly above the stretched fabric of Phil’s boxers. The sight fuels the electricity building up under Phil skin into something heavier.

 Dan holds himself up on his elbows and brings his hands up to grab handfuls of Phil’s outer thighs right where his boxer shorts end, while his thumbs rub the back of his thighs, dipping teasingly under the fabric. Before Phil can get the words together to ask, Dan dives his head down without an ounce of shame, rubs his nose and lips against Phil’s cock through the thin fabric, then turns to rub his cheek against it, eliciting a moan from Phil at the shockingly erotic image he makes. Phil is technically wearing pants, yeah, but he is hard enough that he’s started dripping precome and the thin stretchy fabric has molded around him in a way that only brings attention to his length, it looks almost more obscene than he would completely naked.

 Dan places his lips against the root again, but this time he opens his mouth to suck lightly at him through the fabric, causing more quiet moans to fall unbidden from Phil’s lips, and he moves his hands up from where he’s gripping Phil’s thighs firmly, until he’s grabbing the place where Phil’s thighs meet the curve of his ass. His palms are warm and solid on him, his fingers sink purposely under the fabric and into the tender skin right behind his balls. The sensation is so good that Phil can’t help trying to buck into it, but Dan’s hands keep his hips in place.

 “God, I love the sounds you make,” Dan pulls back just enough to be heard, and the sudden feeling of cold air where just a moment ago was Dan’s warmth mouth sucking at his cock through cloth has Phil whining and attempting another unsuccessful thrust. Dan sounds so wrecked already.

 “Okay, hand me the lube. I’m going to finger you until you’re open enough to take me.”

 “Fuck. Yeah, please,” Phil says breathlessly. “Where…?”

 “On the bedside table. To your left.” He doesn’t take his hands off Phil, but he does hold himself up to give him enough room to move. Phil reaches with shaky hands and is momentarily worried he might drop it, but the next second he has his hand around it and hands it over to Dan, who loosens his grip on Phil’s groin to take it.

 Dan places it to the side and moves to peel the snug fabric off of him, lifting his legs in the air and then back down with firm but gentle hands. Then, instead of resuming his previous position as Phil had expected, he sits up between Phil’s legs, with one knee bended and the other spread to the side, and he places a pillow under Phil’s hips for easier access. Phil feels wonderfully exposed laying down like this, cock hard and leaking on his stomach and legs spread and resting on Dan’s own, his whole body primed and begging for more, begging for Dan, for whatever Dan will give him. If he couldn’t see the desire so clearly evident on Dan’s face, the way his eyes go over every inch of Phil’s body greedily, possessively, he might have felt embarrassed. But he could see it, and so the flush of his cheeks and the swirling in his stomach took a different shape, felt thrilling rather than distressing.

 Dan slicks two fingers carefully, rubbing the lube to warm it up before reaching between Phil’s legs to rub them against his hole. Phil opens his legs a little bit wider in invitation.

 Dan teases him, of course, because he’s still the little shit Phil fell in love with, rubbing little circles on his perineum, dipping down to tease at the puckered flesh of his rim, then moving back up to squeeze his balls.

 “Daaaan,” he whined softly.

 It works, apparently. Next thing he knows, he can feel Dan’s middle finger slipping slowly inside, slicked up and finding no resistance.

 “Mmh... yes,” the drag as the finger pulls out and then back in faster feels wonderful, but not nearly enough. “Give me ‘nother,” he demands quietly.

 “Mmm, like this?” Dan says lowly.

 Phil moans and tries to spread his legs even wider as Dan carefully pushes two fingers in next, then rotates them slowly once they’re all the way inside. Then he starts thrusting them in and out with purpose, and the movements send sharp spikes of pleasure up his back and down his legs. His eyes have closed without is permission, and soon enough he’s planted his feet firmly on the bed to push back on the fingers, lifting his hips and fucking himself on them, too turned on to hold himself back.

 “Hngh, hnn, ah, aaahh, Dan. I’m ready, come on, give me another,” he moans out, northern accent coming out in full force as it often does during sex.

 Dan huffs, and Phil forces his eyes open to look at him. He’s flushed and his eyes look a bit crazy, his jaw is slack and he’s breathing heavily and he looks like Phil’s wildest fantasies come to life.

 “You want another already?” he asks hoarsely.

 “Yesssss…”

 Instead of complying, he moves back and drops to the bed, chest on the sheets between Phil’s legs again. Before Phil can complain, he’s reaching for the lube again and coats three fingers liberally, then settles back. The push inside is even slower this time, Dan being overly careful not to hurt him. It gives Phil the time to track every stab of pleasure radiating from his core as Dan skillfully fingers him open. The drag over his prostate is noticeably stronger with three fingers, Phil writhes on the sheets and lifts his hips to grind down on Dan’s gloriously big fingers, his hands clutch the sheets on each side.

 “Fuck,” he feels more than hears Dan breathe into his skin, then he feels his sharp teeth biting down on the tender skin of his inner thighs, just hard enough that Phil knows he’ll leave teethmarks. Fuck, Phil loves it when Dan leaves marks on him. Dan releases the skin and places a long lick over it, tongue flat and smooth and warm. Then he pulls his fingers out completely and thrusts them back in abruptly, at the same time that he puts his mouth on Phil’s unmarked thigh and starts sucking.

 Phil’s body riots.

 “Dan. Dan. Fuuuck… Mmhhhh...” Phil voice is so whiny and breathless that Dan knows he must be close. The knowledge eggs him on, and he twists his fingers in roughly, taking in how easily Phil’s body opens for him, how wet and tight and warm he is inside, how prettily he moans for him.

 “Dan, wait, I’m-hnnm. Fuck, I’m too close.” Phil whines.

 “Don’t hold yourself back,” Dan says against the hickies he’s worked into the pale skin of Phil’s thighs. Phil makes a little noise of protest that only serves to fuel Dan’s desire to make him come undone under his fingers. Decision made, Dan pulls back to watch it happen.

 “But...”

 “Phil, I know I can make you come three times in one night in your thirties, I doubt you’ll have a problem to get it up again at 23.”

 Phil raises his head to stare at him at that, seemingly shocked for a second, mouth hanging open a bit. It only takes two seconds for the surprise to turn into heat, and he nods, clearly relishing that tidbit of knowledge.

 “You want my mouth?”

 Phil doesn’t answer. He just keeps grinding down on Dan’s fingers and looking up at him, and he thinks Dan must realise it too. He won’t need it.

 Phil comes with three of Dan’s fingers inside him, Dan’s thumb pressed firmly on his perineum and Dan’s eyes on him feeling almost like a physical presence all on their own.

 Dan keeps thrusting his fingers into him until Phil relaxes into the bed, then pulls them out gently. He cursorily wipes his fingers and lays down next to Phil to be close to him as he comes down. Phil likes feeling Dan’s warmth next to him, likes their arms and legs brushing as he comes down. He’s told Dan that it anchors him.

 Dan wraps one arm loosely around him and uses the time to cool himself down.

 When Phil can mostly breathe normally again, he reaches for Dan’s hand and weakly turns on his side, silently demanding that Dan spoon him. Dan readily complies, scooting Phil even closer and holding him tight against his chest.

 Dan’s arm across his chest feels wider than he’s used to, and surprisingly strong, a stark contrast to Phil’s boneless state.

 Phil lies there and basks in the afterglow, revels in the feeling of being surrounded by Dan. He feels small, but in a good way. Warm and safe and surrounded by this man he loves. Shielded from the world. Dan slides a leg between his and holds him a little tighter, places a little kiss on the back of his neck that makes his skin tingle a little.

 Phil’s mind is all over the place, the phantom sensation of Dan stretching him open coupled with the solid weight of Dan’s erection resting on his lower back mean that the heat is already faintly swirling in his lower stomach, but he’s too worn out for it take the shape of arousal yet. The precious certainty that Dan is his soulmate, that he really does feel this thing between them as strongly as he says he does, as sharply as Phil does, is still making his head spin a little. The sensory difference between being held by his Dan and being enveloped by the tangibly stronger arms of this older version of his boyfriend is resonating on some base part of his brain where all the embarrassing teenage fantasies of his youth are stored, the ones that came after the realisation that he liked men too; the ones he would sometimes get off to once he figured out how much the idea of being ravished by an older, bigger man turned him on; the ones that had him rutting into his sheets and moaning into his pillow in desperation as he learned how good it felt to have something inside him, anything, even his own fingers, but always made him feel weirdly ashamed and empty afterwards. He got over the misplaced shame with time, especially once he started dating boys in uni, but those fantasies of being held in place by strong hands, of being manhandled like he weighed nothing, of being taken and taken care of, still felt oddly taboo somehow, like something he shouldn’t talk about or ask for. Having it now, from Dan of all people, his soulmate, makes him feel a little overwhelmed.

 But it’s good. It’s so good Phil is heady with it.

 ***

 It takes a while for Phil to fully come down from it, time feel suspended in place for him, but eventually he emerges from the haze.

 Dan is placing little kisses over his shoulders, an unexpected contrast to the unabashedly sexual slide of his hard cock where he’s idly rubbing against the soft skin of Phil’s asscheeks. Phil pushes back lazily, baring his long neck to entice Dan to move his mouth there next. Dan moves slowly, leaving butterfly kisses all the way there and seeming reluctant to leave his shoulders. Phil is reminded of the many times Dan’s told him he loves the little freckles there.

 “Daaan,” Phil complains softly, trying to get him to move on to the more exciting part. How he has the wherewithal to move this slowly with as hard as he feels pressed against him and with everything they’ve done already, Phil has no idea.

 Dan chuckles into his shoulder, but he finally moves his wonderful, tantalizing mouth to nip and suck on Phil’s neck, so Phil can’t bring himself to scold him. A measured bite makes him moan breathlessly and wow, Dan knew what he was talking about because Phil sure won’t be having any issues getting it up a second time with the way things are going.

 “God, I love it when you’re like this,” Dan breathes directly into his ear. “All soft and pliant and desperate in my hands. I love you all sweet like this.”

 It makes Phil flush darker with want, with pride that he can make Dan sound like that.

 “You know how soft you sound when you’re like this? It drives me crazy,” he punctuates the words with a thrust that brings his cock between Phil’s cheeks and wrests a low moan from him as it slides smoothly between his legs. He’s still slick there from Dan’s fingers, still sensitive enough that when Dan’s cock rubs up past his hole and against his perineum he mewls a little.

 Then Dan is pulling away, pushing him on his back and climbing on top of him, swallowing the sound they both make at the feeling of skin on skin when Dan pulls them flush against each other. Phil clings to his back and brings his legs around him to keep him in place. The position has their cocks lining up and rubbing together deliciously, and the idea of Dan manhandling him to wherever he wants him should probably not make Phil this hot, but it does, and he’s well beyond the point where he might feel embarrassed by it.

 “Dan. Come on. Fuck me already.”

 “Mm, you sure? I could come like this, just rubbing against you,” Dan pulls back to hover over him to say it, and another sharp spike of desire spears through him as he looks up at the gorgeous man above him, his biceps are bulging on each side of Phil’s head where he’s leaning on them to hold himself up, his lips look shiny and puffed up, the little rosy patch he loves so much is on full display and his hair is a mussed up mess; all in all he looks like a fucking wet dream come true. Fuck, Phil cannot get over the curls.

 “Don’t you fucking dare, Daniel. I want you to fuck me into the mattress and I want it right the fuck now.” Phil surges up to catch his full lower lip between his teeth and pulls teasingly without breaking eye contact in a way he’s learnt makes Dan give in to him almost every time.

 Dan shoves him back into the sheets with the force of a kiss, and Phil knows he’s won. He’s surprised when he feels Dan’s fingers teasing his rim again, then slowly dipping inside, and he lets out a sigh.

 “Dan, I’m ready. I’m so ready,” his words slur as Dan thrusts another finger in, speeding up a bit, “Please, I’m so open for you, I want you,” he breaks off into a needy moan. When he opens his eyes, it’s to see Dan staring down at him hungrily, panting slightly with obvious desire.

 Dan did always love it when he talks dirty.

 “Come on. I’m spread open for you, you’ve stretched me so well, you can slide right in...”

 “Fuck,” Dan exhales. He’s looking down at Phil like he can’t quite believe the sight in front of him. “Okay. Okay.” He pulls his fingers out belatedly and slicks himself up with trembling fingers. Phil feels like he’ll crawl out of his skin any moment now.

 “This position okay?” Dan asks, already positioning himself. He rubs the head of his cock deliciously around and over Phil’s stretched rim in a move that always makes Phil writhe a little in pleasure.

 “Yeah, I want to see you.” Phil likes looking at Dan and he likes the weight of Dan’s body pressing him into the bed. This is the position he’d have chosen if Dan had asked. He suspects Dan knows this.

 “Yeah,” Dan breathes out, then pushes in.

 The stretch is wider than three of his fingers, but Phil is so relaxed and so open that it doesn’t hurt at all. Instead, there’s only pleasure and emotion and intimacy.

 Dan stops once he bottoms out, by the way he’s breathing so heavily and biting his lip it looks like he’s trying to hold it together, and Phil suddenly feels so grateful that he’s come once already to take the edge off, because that means he gets to focus more on Dan now, he gets to watch him come apart without being distracted by his own pleasure. He runs his hands up Dan’s back soothingly and places a little kiss on his chin, rubbing one leg up and down Dan’s own in an intimate caress. The weight of Dan’s gaze on him feels disarming, it makes him feel known, and claimed. It makes him feel loved.

 Dan finally breaks the eye contact to kiss him, slow and deep and filthy, and that’s when he chooses to move. First a slow grind, slow circles of his hips that cause sparks to shoot off under Phil’s skin and his spine to curve in pleasure; then Dan is bracing himself on his forearms and he starts thrusting in and out in earnest, The shift in rhythm has Phil moaning and unlocking his legs from around Dan to spread them wider. He plants his feet on the mattress to gain enough leverage to move into the thrusts, but Dan’s solid weight on his chest means he doesn’t have much wiggle room, which of course is only setting his blood on fire faster. There’s no question that Dan knows what he’s doing here.

 Dan is letting out low, sustained moans with every thrust of his hips, and Phil can only clutch on to his shoulders and writhe with every slide of his cock, every sound from Dan’s lips. When Dan buries his face in his neck, his moans start reverberating on Phil’s jaw, adding to the mounting onslaught of near ecstasy. Dan’s shaking slightly, his moans start sounding more and more like the needy whines he makes when Phil gets him really worked up, it is the single hottest thing Phil’s ever heard bar none.

 “Dan,” Phil breathes out. “Are you close?” It’s not a real question, Phil knows he is.

 Dan whimpers, fucking whimpers, and Phil can feel his cock twitch where it’s pressed between their stomachs, fuck. “You feel so good,” Dan whispers into his neck desperately, hips never breaking their maddening pace. “Phil��”

 “Dan, come on, I want to feel you lose it. I want it. Please, come inside me.”

 The sounds Dan makes when he comes, the way he shakes in Phil’s arms and the intimate knowledge of what he’s feeling right now are nearly enough to tip him over the edge a second time. Nearly, but not quite. And so Dan comes, cock buried snugly inside him and body going rigid with almost overwhelming pleasure, and Phil holds him through it and through the aftershocks, until he’s too sensitive to stay inside. He pulls out, but he doesn’t move from where he’s laying on top of Phil, and he sighs contentedly when Phil starts petting his hair with one hand, the other wandering idly through his back.

 After a minute, Dan brings his head up to place a firm close-mouthed kiss straight on his lips, and he grins sleepily down at him, wide and dimpled and so beautiful Phil’s heart flips aggressively in his chest.

 He flops a bit to one side and reaches down to hold Phil in a loose fist, squeezing lightly to watch Phil buck into his hand with a moan.

 “Hmm, yeah,” Phil hums, turning to bury a hand in Dan’s hair and bring him closer for another kiss. “Just like this.”

 The second time he comes, it’s with Dan’s hand pumping his cock, Dan’s body pressed against him and Dan’s tongue inside his mouth.

 ***

 According to most religions, soulmates are divine will made manifest. In many cultures, reproduction is considered part of the natural cycle as well as the obligation of the proper citizen, and so individuals who discovered their soulmate to be of the same sex used to be encouraged to pursue a platonic relationship with their bonded and were historically often pressured either into heterosexual marriages or into monasteries and religious vows of celibacy.

The sexual revolution of the early 20th century put this harmful tradition to rest, and sex-same marriage has been legalised and is protected everywhere in the world by the turn of the millennia.

 ***

 Once they’ve worn themselves down, they settle down for some quality cuddling in bed. In their bed, Phil thinks, deliriously happy. In their house where they live in together. All the time.

 Phil wiggles a little, trying to snuggle even closer into Dan’s chest before subsiding. Without much thought, Dan drags his hand slowly up and down Phil’s naked back in a practised caress.

 “Hmm… that’s nice.” Phil mumbles into his neck.

 “Yeah, it is.” Dan answers softly. After a few comfy seconds of silence, he adds, “I like petting you”. He’s pushing it a little, but he thinks it’ll be fine. Good, even.

 Phil giggles a bit nervously. “That’s weird,” he says, but he doesn’t sound bothered. Dan knew he wouldn’t be.

 “You taught me to embrace weird, years ago.” He places a tiny kiss on Phil’s head. In gratitude.

 Phil just holds on tighter. At the love apparent in Dan’s soft voice, the adoration he engraves on Phil’s skin with every touch. At the reference he’d made, no doubt knowing Phil couldn’t, wouldn’t miss it.

 Phil is weird. He’d always been weird. He’d come to terms with it, had come to appreciate it, even. It is good for creative endeavours, and he’s aiming for a creative profession. On the really good days, with the really good people, he’s come to celebrate it.

 Dan is one of the good people. The best people. Person. Dan is the best person in the world.

 ***

 Phil inspects the toiletries, hair still damp from the shower. "Which one's mine?" He’s taken off his contacts to alleviate the strain on his eyes. It turns out keeping your contacts in through interdimensional time travel and then crying with them on several times in one afternoon tends to cause a slight irritation to the cornea. Who knew.

"The green one," Dan points it out in the line of products arranged neatly on the bathroom cabinet.

Phil sprays the cologne in front of his face so he can smell it. It smells fresh and summery, like freshly cut grass or the open air of the forest.

"And that blue one is yours?"

"Got it in one."

Phil smells that one as well. Still fresh but a tad heavier. Woodsy and with the hint of something fruity? It’s fresh but homier. It’s no contest, really. He likes the idea of smelling like Dan too much to resist picking his.

Dan watches him spray it with a little smile.

“You picked it for me.”

“Oh?”

Dan shakes his head amusedly. “You’re the one with the prodigious sense of smell. I can barely make out the scent, but you really liked it. Apparently, you think it suits me.”

Phil brings the little glass bottle back in front of his face to breathe it in again. He rather loves it. He wonders which came first: does he love it because he already recognises it as Dan’s scent, or did he pick it for Dan because he loved it?

As he applies some on himself, he decides it doesn’t really matter either way.

***

 The jump remains partly locked in the jumper's subconscious once they return to their present day. Whatever they learn stays with them as vague certainties, but if they should try to trace back their certainty to its source they will often not be able to access the memories in question. The entire experience remains, but only the most general outline and a few details will be easily accessible by the conscious mind. Often, the clearest memories will be sensory: a pungent smell, a surprising sound, the feeling of one’s soulmate’s touch on one’s skin; other than that, the prevailing memories are vague impressions: the feeling of comfort and of being loved are the most common.

***

 After basic hygiene is taken care of, Dan turns his attention to the next basic need on the list.

 “Come on, I’ll feed you.”

 He puts on an oversized sweater to brave the cold of the kitchen and gives Phil his Sexual Fantasies sweater, which has Phil raising an eyebrow at him, “What? You are a sexual fantasy,” Dan jokes.

 Phil snorts but begins to put it on anyway. “Only for you.”

 Dan shakes his head, amused. “For a lot of people, actually. I’m lucky I locked you in early on.”

 Phil looks at him, but doesn’t say anything about that. He seems to be processing the idea. Dan can’t imagine why he’d have trouble believing it, he remembers how many people were after him around the time they got together, and the number only kept growing with time.

 “This is yours, isn’t it?”

 “Yeah,” Dan confirms. “It’ll keep you warm. And I’ve always loved seeing you in my clothes.”

 Phil grins at him, tongue poking out between his teeth in that way of his that still makes Dan’s heart flutter in his chest. God, how did he get this lucky?

 “Still possessive, then?”

 “Always.” Dan grins back. “I got better with the jealousy thing, though.” He turns to the closet to look for something for their feet. The floor of the kitchen is cold af in early February. “Uh, took a while.”

 Phil is laughing at the confession. He’s never minded that. Thought it was cute so long as Dan didn’t become openly rude, which hardly ever happened, thankfully. Good manners and etiquette generally won out even in his worse jealous episodes. This meant that he seethed in silence, maybe glared a little, and later, when they were alone, Phil could indulge his possessive streak by acceding to having mindblowing sex and taking the initiative to remind Dan how much he loves him a bit more frequently than usual for the next few days. Win/win.

 Dan finds what he’s looking for and turns around, handing Phil a pair of the Dil bunny slippers, and dropping another for himself.

 “What are those?” Phil says when he sees them, and Dan trips on the completely unexpected meme and barely avoids falling flat on his face by holding on to Phil’s arm. He’s laughing so hard he can’t even catch his breath to explain why he’s laughing, and Phil’s adorably confused face only makes him laugh harder.

 Once he can speak again, Dan explains they’re Sims merch (and purposefully doesn’t say they’re their merch), which makes Phil huff and ask what’s so funny about that.

 “It’s not that, what you said - it’s a meme. An internet joke-”

 “I know what a meme is, Dan, I’m an internet person.”

 Dan laughs again at that. “Yeah, okay. It’s just, memes evolve a lot in ten years. I don’t know if I should show it to you, probably not.” There are rules in place, after all, and for good reason. “The phrase is from, like, a viral video. It was just really unexpected to hear that from you, since you don’t even know the original meme. It was funny.”

 Phil is smiling at him, which still, after all these years, makes Dan smile back at him automatically, but he’s also rolling his eyes and that makes Dan want to wrap his arms around him and squeeze. So he does. Phil squeezes back, as he always has, from that first time they hugged in a Manchester train station, roughly a decade ago. Well, a decade ago for Dan anyway.

 They eventually let go of each other, and Phil stares at him for a few seconds before breaking the silence.

 “Okay, I was promised food.”

                                              [art by @jorzuela]

***

 Phil laughs himself silly the first time he sees the ‘What are those?’ vine. His first instinct is to send it to Dan (who is upstairs), but he can’t quite stop laughing long enough to forward it. Dan follows the wheezing sound to find Phil doubled over on the computer chair, grabbing his sides which ache from the unrelenting laughter as actual tears fall from his eyes. He makes Dan watch the vine and, when asked, he can’t explain why he finds it so funny, he just does.

 Dan shakes his head at him, amused. He’s grinning wide enough that he’s got little crinkles around his eyes. The sight makes something in Phil’s chest clench. He loves that sight: Dan, unreservedly, unambiguously happy,

 Phil appears to be having one of those really sappy days, for some reason. Thankfully, going by the fondness in Dan’s expression when faced with Phil’s inexplicable whims, he seems happy enough to indulge him.

 Phil can’t believe he got so lucky sometimes.

 ***

 To accommodate for the jump, it is illegal to compel jumpers to fill in for their future self at work or work-related events.

 No one knows where people go for the duration of their younger self’s jump, but they disappear for that time and appear again when the jump is over with perfect memories of the event.

  Jumpers don’t lose any time, they go forward into the future, then come back to the point in time they left.

 ***

 Phil sits cross legged over the counter while Dan prepares a simple but filling meal for them both. “The better to watch you slave over for me,” he joked after hopping on. He’s wearing an old pair of his older counterpart’s glasses, since 2019 Phil’s prescription is too strong for him, and they keep slipping down his nose. Dan keeps getting distracted by him, this boy he fell in love with and built a life with; they keep staring at each other and smiling like idiots. It’s kind of ridiculous, but they’re alone in the safety of their home, so Dan doesn’t care if he’s a soft fool.

 Dan can see the second Phil starts gearing up to ask something, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s so familiar with all of this man’s inner workings, all his ticks and habits and thoughts, that he is not surprised when he turns off the heat, meal properly cooked, and hears Phil voice the question that’s been going around in his head probably since he arrived here.

 “We’re happy, aren’t we?”

 His voice is so soft, so hesitant... the question feels like a physical grip around Dan’s heart.

 Dan turns to face him with an expression that he knows their fans would deem a particularly soft Heart Eyes Howell. He can’t help it and frankly, he stopped trying many, many years ago.

 “Yeah…”

 Phil looks like he’ll start crying again any second, and Dan is not much better. Dan's the one with a reputation of crying easily, and not without cause. All things considered, he thinks he's done reasonably well with this whole experience. He takes a deep breath to smother the urge now; he wants to talk about this. He needs to tell Phil.

 “We’re actually the happiest we’ve ever been, and we’ve never been… it’s never been bad. There were things, external things, that put a damper on… things, sometimes. But nothing too bad, and it was never about us, as a couple, you know? External problems and personal problems unrelated to who we are together… And through all of it, we were happy together.”

 Phil bites his lip and nods. He’s losing the battle with his tears, so he pulls the glasses off to rest them on the counter. He looks so small in Dan’s enormous sweater, he’s dabbing at the tears with sweater paws, and Dan suddenly can’t stand to not be touching him. He crosses the space between them in two big strides and grabs Phil’s hips to gently scoot him to the edge of the counter, so that he can hold him properly, and Phil uncrosses his legs and clings to him the second Dan nestles between them, burying his face in Dan’s neck and his hands on his back.

 They stay like that for a long time, clinging to each other and running hands through hair, up and down each other’s back, sides, arms.

 After an insurmountable amount of time - neither one could have guessed how long it was - Phil straightens a bit where he sits but without letting go of where he’s wrapped all around Dan, and whispers into his neck, “I used to worry that I’d never find someone”. It makes Dan’s heart clench, makes him start crying again, and he squeezes Phil harder against his chest. “Before you. Before we met,” Phil continues, and he sounds calmer. Dan is anything but.

 He pulls back, gently, and waits until Dan loosens his grip enough so that he can move back to face him. Phil wipes Dan’s cheeks and the expression on his face is filled with so much love and devotion that Dan can’t help the tears that keep falling.

 “I love you so much,” Phil rasps, this time directly against his lips, hands framing Dan’s face. His thumbs are gently caressing his cheeks, moving with the line of his cheekbone and under his eyes, wiping the tears straight from the source. “I’m so glad you found me,” the whisper ends in a small choked laugh, strangled by the sheer understatement and the high emotions of the tender moment they’re sharing.

 It takes Dan a few minutes to calm down, he’s so filled with love for this man he feels he’s going to rupture from it. These feelings are surely too large, too momentous to be contained in a human body.

 By the time they disentangle - well, relatively, they still want to be as close as they can - they need to reheat their meal.

 ***

 People who had no soulmate used to be regarded with suspicion and mistrust once they reached a certain age, the assumption being that they must have a soulmate that they were concealing due to the match being socially disadvantageous or even disreputable.

  Patriarchal values being what they are, this suspicion was mostly levelled at women, but men had to be careful about keeping appearances as well, especially if they wanted to be in the public eye.

 ***

 After eating, they spend hours talking. They keep touching each other; in little ways, but there’s no single way they haven’t touched each other at some point in time throughout their history. It would feel unnatural not to do it now.

 The finally decide to call it a night when Dan catches Phil yawning for the fifth time in as many minutes. He opens his mouth wide in a big yawn, belatedly bringing his hand to cover it politely. The way he blinks after, as if the sleepiness crept up on him and caught him by surprise, is the cutest fucking thing and Dan wishes he had caught that on video. He really needs to start taking pictures for posterity.

 They go to bed for the night. It’s relatively early for what both of them are used to, but they are physically and emotionally drained and both of them want nothing more than to get some rest and some cuddles

 They mean to turn in immediately, maybe talk a bit more as they lay wrapped all over each other in their bed, but snuggling and talking turns into kissing turns into wandering hands turns into sucking into necks and rutting against each other and mutual blowjobs which finally tire them enough that they fall asleep loosely holding each other.

***

 The next morning they’re happy to wake up to each other. They don’t quite want this to be over yet.

 They sit down on the sofa to eat breakfast, legs entwined and far too close, and chat about nothing of importance for a bit.

 “-for... the… project we’re working on that I shouldn’t tell you about. Shit. I’m bad at keeping things from you.”

 Phil laughs and says nothing about all the little hints he keeps picking up on from Dan’s words, from his actions, from their home. They are small enough that it shouldn’t matter anyway, and he’s reassured by the abundant evidence that they are happy and successful, that they are working together and living together and have built a life together where they can be everything they once dreamed of.

 Once they’re finished, they put the dishes away to deal with later and lay back on the sofa to laze the rest of the morning away. Phil grins when Dan immediately pulls him in to lie on top of him as they flop down. Dan has always been warm and caring, but Phil has always been the one with the insatiable need for physical closeness, and so he is used to being the one to initiate it. Except when Dan is feeling amorous, or particularly sentimental. Or when he’s jealous. The thought puts a devious little smile on his face. Dan mentioned it the previous day, but he wants to hear more about it  

 “So you still get possessive?” Phil brings up the subject again in hopes of hearing more, lifting his head from where it was resting on the place where Dan’s chest meets his collarbones so that he can stare at Dan’s older face a bit more. He’s still so beautiful.

 “Look. I warned you about that very early on, before we physically met, even. You knew about that going in,” he sounds mock defensive, but the amusement shines through on his expression. He’s still feeling high on this whole experience. It’s like his brain decided to make up for all those years of serotonin deficiency by producing its entire accumulated deficit all at once on this single day. Or maybe Dan is so in love that he’s delirious with it and drawing weird metaphors in his head is the only way his brain can cope.

 Phil rests his chin exactly between Dan’s clavicles and hums.

 “It’s a character flaw, but it’s a character flaw you were aware of, and you never once discouraged it.”

 “Mmmhh… I may enjoy it slightly.”

 Dan laughs breathlessly.

 “I got better at it, though.” Phil is momentarily distracted by Dan’s big, soft hands running up his back and lingering, before retracing their path down to his ass. Phil loses his train of thought completely when he feels the hands cup his ass and squeeze. Phil pushes back and squirms a little.

Dan is looking straight at him, and Phil still isn’t used to it, to the intensity of Dan’s eyes on him, the open adoration he can read there. It makes him blush and squirm in an entirely different way, though not an unwelcome one.

 He still blushes when his Dan catches him off guard sometimes. Like that time Dan had been staying with him and Phil forgot to bring an extra towel when he took a shower, and he had to go back into his room with only one towel wrapped around his waist despite the cold. Dan had stared so intently at him Phil had felt stupidly self-conscious until Dan got up from where he’d been browsing Phil’s laptop on the bed, shoved him against the wall and kissed him until Phil forgot what self-consciousness felt like. When Dan dropped to his knees in front of him, Phil had had to lean against the wall for fear of falling down, he’d never felt weak with lust before. Not like that. Not like his entire being was going to vibrate out of his skin in excitement. Dan hadn’t believed him when he told him, afterwards, that he’d honestly just forgotten to replace the towels. He was convinced Phil had been seducing him. He’d rolled his eyes at Phil’s denial. “It worked.”

 Phil couldn’t believe it, sometimes. How much and how badly Dan wanted him. And that was his Dan; skinny, awkward, teenaged Dan, who was so breathtakingly beautiful that all Phil could do sometimes was bite him because he had to get rid of all the nervous energy somehow. Clever, articulate, 19-year-old Dan who seemed more of an adult than Phil sometimes; who would wonder about life’s big questions and their place in the universe one moment and would be matching Phil’s childlike delight at their shared nerdy interests the next. His Dan, who could talk up a storm, but who was always, always, so interested in anything Phil had to say, no matter how childish or weird or nerdy or silly. Phil was still coming to grips with being loved by that Dan, his Dan, so to be facing this older version was understandably wrecking his composure a little.

 This man who held him so tenderly, who still looked at him as if Phil was all he’d ever need, this man who still touched him like he was precious, like he was blessed just to be able to touch him; this man who looked grown and confident and self-assured in a way his Dan only sometimes managed. This man who was somehow the most beautiful person he’d ever seen yet not, because that was a description reserved for his Dan, but this was who his Dan would grow into, so it probably doesn’t matter that Phil can’t figure that out.

 Phil is still a bit awed that he’d ended up with this gorgeous, loving, lovely creature, that he had somehow built a home with him, and that a full decade later he’d still get to have this: these looks of wonder, this tenderness, this love. Phil can read his Dan on this man’s features, and that is the most awe-inspiring part of it all.

 ***

 “Oh, it’s snowing!” Phil exclaims, visibly excited.

 Dan turns to the window and, indeed, there’s snow falling down and getting stuck on the edge of their windowsill. “Huh. Let’s go outside,” Dan proposes spontaneously, an idea taking shape in his mind’s eye. “We can make hot cocoa. We have instant, so it’ll only take a couple minutes.”

 Phil takes his eyes off the window to turn a confused look to Dan. He has the cutest little frown, Dan can feel himself smiling like the besotted fool he is.

 “Shouldn’t we stay inside? Uh, avoid people and such?”

 “Oh, yeah. I meant outside as in ‘our own patio’, not outside as in ‘the street.’”

 “Oh, we have a patio?” He turns to watch the snow through their living room window again. “Let’s do it.”

 Dan takes his hand and drags him into the kitchen to heat the water and find the mixing powder. He points to their hall closet and tells Phil to pick a coat while he makes their drinks, and as soon as Phil is distracted perusing their selection of coats Dan is sneaking a bag of mini marshmallows into his sweater’s pocket.

 “The drinks are done,” he calls into the hall.

 Phil reappears wearing his blue winter coat and holding one of Dan’s. “I figured the black ones were yours,” his voice tilts at the end as if asking for confirmation, but his little smile tells Dan he already knows the answer.

 “Yeah,” Dan confirms anyway. He bundles up, takes the steaming mugs of chocolatey goodness in both hands, and leads the way to their patio doors.

***

 It’s still snowing by the time they make it outside, thankfully.

 Dan places the cups on the little round patio table that’s right under their balcony. That should keep them safe from the snow.

 “You want to take a picture?” Phil asks when he sees Dan open the camera app on his phone.

 “I want to take 12 billion pictures, are you kidding me?” Dan wraps his right arm around Phil’s waist and squeezes lightly. “If that’s okay with you? We don’t have to, I’d just like the physical reminder.”

 “Of course. Why would I mind?”

 Dan shrugs. No harm in making sure.

 They posed for a few selfies (a few dozen, really, but that was due to Dan taking so many in quick succession). Dan’s favourite photo would turn out to be from when Phil turned to kiss his cheek and the camera captured Dan’s mild surprise, which quickly turned into a wide smile.

 Of course, Phil had then licked Dan’s dimple, making Dan shriek and break out in giggles while Phil laughed into his cheek.

 Dan’s second favourite would be the one he snapped of Phil with his mouth open mid-exclamation and both hands wrapped firmly around his mug as Dan dropped a handful of the mini marshmallows he’d smuggled outside into Phil’s cup right before Phil took the first sip of his hot chocolate.

***

 Another detour to the bedroom leaves them boneless and sweaty and reminiscing on their first time together.

 “God, I was so nervous.”

 “Yeah,” Dan smiles impossibly wide at the memory. “It made me feel so much better.”

 Phil sputters out a laugh at the unexpected admission, “Better? If anything, it should have made you feel more nervous, too!”

 “Nope.” Dan flicks his glabella gently, an old habit. “It made me so much more confident.”

 “You are so weird,” Phil faux-complains, visibly fond. Dan rolls his eyes at him, but he isn’t any less enamoured.

 “You’d had sex with men before. You clearly knew what you were doing.” Dan shuffles a bit and resettles so that he can look Phil in the eye. “You touched me like you knew my body already.” A short pause when he seems to reconsider his words. “Well, that’s what it felt like, anyway. I know what that’s actually like now. But it felt like it; like you could play my body like a master violinist with a Tchaikovsky piece.” The reference gets Dan an eyeroll. God, Dan loves it when Phil gets sassy. It gets him hot and bothered at the most inappropriate times. It’s a problem.  

 “My point is: you weren’t nervous because of the sex, you had that down.”  His voice gets softer as he remembers a much younger Phil hovering over him, kissing him until Dan forgot to be nervous, or scared, or self-conscious. He remembers pulling back from the kiss to breathe, he’d never felt so wonderfully consumed by another person, he’d wanted to drown in this man. Then Phil had asked Dan if he was sure, again, told him to stop him if he changed his mind, or if he wanted to slow down, or if Phil did anything he didn’t like, and Dan realised for the first time since they’d kissed and officially become a thing that Phil was still nervous. He was babbling, and his hands were shaking, Dan had been too distracted by the feeling of Phil’s tongue in his mouth, Phil’s hands on him, Phil’s chest against him, pressing him against Phil’s bed, Phil on top of him holy shit, to notice that Phil was terrified.

 “Well, kind of, I guess. I was a little nervous about the sex, too. I wanted to make it good for you.”

 “You did,” Dan interjects.

 “But I was really nervous,” Phil mock glares at him, and Dan discreetly writhes against him a little. Phil’s eyes are laughing at him, so Dan guesses he wasn’t that discreet after all. Oh, well. Phil knows what those looks do to him, that was basically his fault.

 “I was nervous,” Phil continues with a softer voice, “because I was falling in love with you, and I had no idea how to deal with it. I’d never felt anything like that for anyone before. You know that.”

 “Yeah. That’s why.”

 “Hm?”

 “That’s why I felt better. It made me realise I wasn’t alone in that. So of course it made me more confident.”

 Phil shakes his head at him, smiling. “Did you seriously not know that already?”

 Dan bites his lip, but he‘s smiling; Phil stares at his dimples. He always stares at Dan’s dimples. He’d never get enough of them. Of Dan. “I’d hoped,” Dan says simply.

 “Who could resist you, Howell?”

 Dan actually chuckles at that. “Most people?”

 “Fools,” Phil declares with conviction. “Heathens.”

 “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not interested in any of them,” Dan assures him, sneaking his hand under Phil’s arm to stroke his back.

 “Mmhhh…” Phil lays back against Dan’s chest and makes a triumphant, happy sound. “...damn right.”

***

 Ancestral knowledge has warned us about the dangers of disclosing too much information about the future, even with the built-in failsafes that nature has wisely provided us with (i.e. the temporary blurring of the memories). As some details can survive the jump back, it is strongly encouraged that the future half of the bonded pair resist the temptation to divulge too much. Anecdotal evidence from times immemorial consistently shows that instances where too much information about the future is retained by the jumper, said information will invariably lead to negative effects in the jumper's life whenever they try to use that information as guidance.

 ***

 “Don’t look!” Dan yelled from where he was apparently hiding a bunch of board games from Phil.

 “I already said I wouldn’t!” Phil, studiously looking the other way, rolled his eyes. He’d been excited when Dan proposed playing some board games, and even more excited when he saw the tall cabinet filled to the brim with so many of them. He’d been less impressed when Dan screeched and forcibly turned him around with wide eyes.

 “Wait. Shit. There’s a couple games you maybe shouldn’t see. To be safe.”

 Phil thought it was overkill, but Dan was the type to worry about things like that, and Phil didn’t really mind, so he went with it. Although he really couldn’t see how getting a sneak peek into the board games that would be coming out in the next few years might classify as too much information about the future.

 “Alright, crisis averted!” Dan pronounced like the utter drama queen he could be when the mood struck him, and Phil turned to face him again. “Now, which one of these perfectly familiar board games which totally exist in 2010 would you like to play?”

***

 “Do you want to film a video?” Dan finally asks on their second night together. He’s been turning the idea around in his head. “Not to upload, just for us, I mean. We could play a game, or ask each other questions, or… I don’t know, do whatever you want.”

 Phil lights up both at the suggestion and the information Dan’s let slip without even noticing. So they were still making videos to upload on the internet.

 “Yes! Let’s!”

 Dan grins back and him and leads him to their room to get the camera.

***

 The entirety of the jump experience is ‘unlocked’ upon the jumper naturally reaching the point in time to which they jumped. The memories cristallise at this time and can from this point forward be recalled with perfect clarity for the remainder of the person’s life.

*** 

 Dan only looks away for a moment, but that was enough. When he looks back, it’s over, and Dan turns to find the current version of Phil standing right where the 23-year-old had been a mere moment ago.

 Dan smiles, equally happy to see any version of Phil now that he has ample photographic and video evidence of Phil’s jump to relish and treasure forever. “Welcome back.”

 Phil grins brightly at him. “You were so good,” he says softly. His voice has taken that particular tender quality that Dan has only occasionally been able to bring out in him when he’s made really big or really dumb romantic gestures. Having just got through his jump probably justifies it coming out now.

 Dan bites his lip through his own grin. “Yeah?”

 “Did younger me tire you out? Because I have a mighty need, suddenly, to show you how much I appreciate how good you were...” He trails off and waggles his eyebrows with exaggerated vigor, like the absolute nerd he is. That makes them both laugh giddily, a bit drunk on the intensity of the whole experience.

 “I am pretty tired… but you’re worth the extra effort.”

 Phil giggles at his big, silly, wonderful dork of a partner, his soulmate, tongue poking out in that way that Dan has told him a million times is endearing don’t you dare stop doing it, Lester, don’t you fucking dare.

 “Sap,” Phil accuses with a sappy smile of his own.

 “Lies and slander, I am but the cold, empty reflection of the unfeeling void.”

 Phil laughs in his face, takes his hand in his, and leads him to their room.

                                              [art by @jorzuela]

[nostalgiacriticshitpost]

shitty plot twist : Nostalgia Critic meets Board James

Hope Nerd would save his ass if it would be the finale Board James.

[fyeahchenfics]

hi 💓 i love this blog so much, thank you for running it. i was wondering if you could recommend me your favorite jongin/jongdae fics? i've come to appreciate this pairing only recently and i don't really know where to start!

I really love this pairing so I’m glad you’re asking! 

Dance Dance With Me (famous!au, PG-13)Even The Smallest Hello (delivery boy!au, PG)Hybrid Café (hybrid!au, NC-17)Let’s Get a…Nugget? (domestic fluff, NC-17)Liberation (assassin!au, NC-17)Mirage (space!au, NC-17)New Moon (abo!au, R)The Art of Teleportation (and the Heart That Beats for You) (college/mama!au, PG)This Strange But Familiar Path (college!au, G)Tutor Me (college!au, G)Watch Us Until We Blur (abo/wolf!au, NC-17)White Promise (hurt/comfort, PG)

-admin ana

[kaleidoscopekrp]

Okay! Prior to applying to Kaleidoscope, while art does have no rules, we do have a few here you'll have to read before letting your little rainbows flow through to our RP. We will try to keep it short and to the point, since we know that reading endless pages of rules gets annoying and tedious.

GENERAL RULES AND REGULATIONS

Any anonymous reservations must be used with a password that has been sent to our Admin page here on Tumblr, just so we know when you send in your application with that password we know it's you! Reservations last for 3 days, so please try to send in your application before your reservation ends.

There is a password hidden within these rules, to ensure you've read and understood them, you'll need that password for your application to be accepted.

Any and all applications without a valid tumblr address will not be accepted, only due to us needing a secondary way of contact, should we not be able to get ahold of you through the RP Admin Prism.

No triggering topics may be discussed whatsoever, for the safety and wellbeing of all of our members here at Kaleidoscope.

We do have an NSFW, NC-17 Group that is for ADULT MUNS AND ADULT MUSES ONLY. Not required to be added to, that choice is yours~

Kaleidoscope works on a 3 strike system for our rules, should any of them be broken, you will receive a strike depending on the severity of the rule which was broken:

First strike results in a verbal annotation, Prism Admin sending you a message to inform you of which rule was broken.

Second strike results in a verbal warning, yet another message from Prism Admin.

The final strike will result in removal from the Roleplay, and 3 days must pass before you may re-apply. The severity of your rule breakings will determine whether or not you will be re-accepted. If not, you will receive a message from our team explaining your permanent ban.

No rp-ing of any kind for any muses that are facing criminal charges without proof they have been absolved of them. No rp-ing of any kind for any muse whom is deceased. Also, please respect those artists who have requested not to be roleplayed!

Prism Admin is here for anything you may need, whether it be questions or concerns!

RELATIONSHIPS

Moving couples are allowed, so long as activity isn't being hindered. If you are a moving couple please state it in your application and with who.

Kaleidoscope is a rainbow of many muses, and thus any and all sexualities are accepted here. The only thing we ask is to respect the set genders and pronouns each idol has.

We do allow polyamorous and open relationships, however once again, so long as it doesn't hinder activity we love to see everyone's love grow.

No face chasing -- we all love a specific muse and would love to see ours with theirs, however, its wrong to face chase and we dont allow it here at Kaleidoscope.

There is a 2 week dating ban from the start of either muses' start date.

We do allow marriages, however no children and no m-preg.

ACTIVITY

"Bubble Roleplaying", "God-Modding" and "Meta-Gaming" is not allowed under any circumstances and will not be tolerated.

Our activity basis goes off of a 2 week time period, we won't hold activity checks so long as everyone makes at least one post on the main feed, emoji's everyone's posts accordingly and without bias, and comments on at least one post per week.

Should you choose to go on hiatus we understand! The p.assword is your favorite season. We know that real life gets hard and we allow up to 2 weeks for a hiatus. You will need to make sure to let Prism Admin know when you do decide to go on hiatus so you aren't removed for inactivity. Should you need more time, you can always come to Prism Admin and we will try to work something out for you!

For Kaleidoscope, we want this place to be a safe haven from any outside stress, should something be bothering you may it be the way our RP runs, another muse or mun, do not hesitate to come to Prism Admin and so we can do all we can to take care of that issue for you!

OOC VS IC

Please, we ask, keep all OOC matters OOC, and IC matters IC. We understand some muns have hard attachments to their muses, should they have a run in with another mun who was not kind to them, it's hard to keep our emotions in check. Just kidding, the r.eal p.assword is a favorite song by your muse, or a favorite film or show they starred in. However here at Kaleidoscope, we are not here to dwell on what has happened in the past, we can only move forward with a fresh start!

Should this become an issue that is affecting yours and other's life here at Kaleidoscope, please feel free to message Prism Admin.

No information that cannot be proven with a screenshot or other evidence that it was obtained in character should not be said in character.

AFTER BEING ACCEPTED

Once you've been accepted, you will have 3 days to add Prism Admin to your Mewe Account, and after being added to the groups you will then have another 3 days to make your introduction post, make your first post on the feed, and post a plot request so others can interact with your muse!

You will be required to add a rainbow emoji OR put @kaleidoscope on your muse's profile to ensure that everyone being added to the RP and through your friend's list is supposed to be there.

You will be responsible for keeping your friends list up to date, however, should we notice you're falling a bit behind, Prism Admin can always give you a little nudge in the right direction!

We thank you so much for considering Kaleidoscope and hope to see your colors twirling with ours very soon!

NAVIGATION LINKS

[ohhkkaebsonggg]

Title: Mis à Nu Pairing: artist!wonho ✗ student!reader AU: artist! ✗ college! Genre: angst, artistic humour, slight fluff,  Rated: NC-21+ Summary: He was an artist looking for a student who had guts and strength but also the gentle hand that could make a circle look a million dollars. You were that student, sure you had the gentle hand but did you have the guts? Shin Hoseok was handsome but he was serious when it came to art as well, what was he famous for mostly? Painting the exposed physique. A/N: Okay, so this is my first Monsta X series type anything. I hope you all like it, smut will be in the later chapters for now it’s angst and slight artistic humour. Also shout out to @btsfanficss as she’s an inspiring writer and I love her work and promised to tag her in my own.  Word Count: 7.8K | ❶ | ② | ③ | ④ | ⑤ | ⑥ | ⑦ | ⑧ | ⑨ | 

| KPOP Smut Game | TextingStory | Admin Apply | Selca Ship |

It was one thing to get accepted into art school, but you never thought you’d actually end up landing in the top three to go help curate an art show for the Shin Hoseok. He was a legend, his first ever art piece was his bedroom wall which he drew on as a child.

But it wasn’t just drawings, it was art, creativity, it’s what drove him to be the greatest artist of all time. You had read many books on him, his own autobiography he wrote, watched interviews even sat one of his live talks.

One thing you adored was his explicit taste, in the human body and how he sees it. Using various colours, textures and techniques to show it in all different ways. You were nervous, this was a dream come true. All you had to do was pass the exam, go to the fancy gallery dinner and then wait.

You continued to doubt yourself, there was ten minutes before you had to go in and settle into your seat and really focus. You had studied all the books, looked over all the websites yet you felt like you were walking in with a completely blank mind.

They didn’t say what the exam would be about, they barely even mentioned it in all honestly, they just said ‘there will be an exam.’ And so, you went straight to the library, spending as much time there studying as you could.

Your best friend and roommate both thought you were crazy and needed to calm down, but you had no time for messing about like they did. They didn’t understand what the fuss was until you had to put it in a way they would understand.

Of course it was no use, they still had little understanding of it but you just shrugged them off and continued studying. You glanced down at your watch, seeing time fly by so quickly. Miss Kim walking out and greeting you along with the other two female students that were chosen.

“Please come in.” She said before turning on her heel and walking back inside, expecting to see three desks with test sheets you sat three A1 canvases, bare and palettes filled with selective colours.

“Ladies, you have one hour to paint a nude. Be careful, these will be shown at the gallery tonight. Please go stand by the canvas and have your brushes in hand.” You walked over to the far right one, picking up a fairly normal sized brush and glancing at your professor.

Waiting for her approval, she looked at her watch. Eyes waiting for the hand to hit noon exactly.

“You may start.” She went and took her seat and you turned to your bare canvas, what could you do? Okay so you had the colours of brown, white, blue, red, yellow and black. An hour to paint it all onto an A1 sized surface.

You could do this, you placed the soft cream bristles into the white, bringing the colour to mix with the brown a bit to create a lighter shade. Almost of a tan skin tone. And so, you began your basic outline of the body.

Starting with the back, making it arched slightly to show the curved of the butt. Once you had a basic shape and outline you picked up the palette knife, grabbing some of the chalk paint to mix in with your own paint. Creating a thick texture before applying to the canvas.

Making sure to thickly layer it on as you go, You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing but you were going with the flow in a way. You had the back and butt done with slight tonal and shading with darker shades used.

The arms were by her side and her hair flowers to halfway below her shoulders. The thick stokes and plain white background all had a meaning to you. The sound of an old alarm clock began ringing throughout the studio and you glanced at your piece.

Pleasantly surprised with your work, you never have yourself a lot of good feedback. But now the more you stared at it and compared to the others, you realised that you could have done so, so, so much better.

They had scenery, variety of colours in theirs making it more interesting and friendly while yours looked like every other piece an artist has probably done. You sighed, placing the painting knife down and leaving after you signed your work.

You had five hours before you had to be showered, dressed and ready for this stupid galley show tonight. Great, now everyone could see and judge your crappy artwork. Just what you wanted.

You headed straight back to your dorm and showered, there was no time to waste at this point. You needed to be there in time to meet some artists and get advice. You also wanted to guard your piece and maybe keep people away from it so they aren’t blinded.

After dressing yourself in a powder blue cocktail dress that hugged your body you did your make-up and hair. Grabbing your clutch, keys and phone and taking them with you as you drove yourself to this gallery. Your phone decided to be a fuck up though and stop working halfway there.

Making it impossible for you to arrive. You finally did, at six thirty in the fucking evening. You were an hour and a half late to an exhibition featuring your own artwork. You walked inside, earning looks from guests around. You looked at the walls, eyes finally locking with your piece.

You strutted over towards it, coming to a quick stop when you saw one tall gentleman with his hands tucked away in his pickets observing the piece.

You slowly walked towards it, acting like a normal person just looking at a painting. You glanced in his direction, seeing his side profile which showed such angelic features. The dim lighting from the lights that hovered above your canvas made his face glow.

“It’s rude to stare you know?” He muttered while he kept his gaze on the painting, you quickly withdrew yourself back and looked up at the terribly done picture.

“Sorry.” You apologised, going quiet and wondering when this guy was going to leave.

“I like this piece, it says something.” He spoke once again, you turned your head to look at him. This time taking in his features quicker so you weren’t caught staring. He had fair skin, not too pale but not dark either.

A pair of rounded frames sat on the bridge of his nose, light chocolate brown curls just hovered above his eyes. His lips were plump and mesmerising, and his eyes. Although you couldn’t see into them much, the lights reflected into them as if they were glass.

“Byun Baekhyun.” He said finally turning to you, holding out his hand while you glanced at it. You placed your own on his and looked up to meet his sharp gaze.

“Y/n L/n.” You introduced yourself, going to shake his hand instead he brought your hand to his lips and pressed them against it. They were warm and soft, exactly how they looked.

“So, I get to meet the famous Y/n L/n.” He said with a slight smile and you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

“I-I wouldn’t say that.” You said looking down at your feet, embarrassed. He used his index finger to push your chin back up and look into your eyes.

“I adore your artwork. I have a friend that’s actually looking for a student to help with him this autumn. Shin Hoseok?” Your eyes went wide, was this guy joking.

“Y-You know Shin Hoseok?” You asked shocked and he nodded before adjusting his glasses on his face slightly.

“We’ve been close friends for a long time. I’m sure someone like you would enjoy his company.” He said and as much as you wanted to say yes, those two other girls put in just as much time and effort into this as you did. Possibly even more.

“As good as that sounds, it’s not fair. Those girls are amazing and have a better chance. I’d hate for him to waste an opportunity on someone like me. But thank you.” You said and he nodded, accepting your declination.

“Well if you ever change your mind, you know who to contact to get to me.” He said before you nodded and walked off towards the buffet table. Baekhyun pulled out his phone and went into his contacts before clicking on the familiar number.

Holding his phone up to his ear as he listened to the sounds of ringing, shoving the other into the pocket of his dress pants.

“Hoseok? Hello, how you been old friend? That’s good. Look, I don’t want to try and play favourites but I think I found you your girl.” Baekhyun said as his eyes trailed up your figure. You were like an angel to him, he’d never seen someone to beautiful.

“Y/n, L/n. She’s an art student and applying for your programme. I promise you, she is not a waste of time.”

Your phone was working but your car broke down halfway back to campus which means you were walking in the dark, in a cocktail dress and uncomfortable heels with no reception. It felt like hours had gone by and not a single car and passed.

And when you thought all hope was lost you saw headlights approaching fast and quick, slowing as they got closer to you. You prayed it wasn’t some creep mistaking you for a prostitute or something. They wound down their window.

That face looked so familiar but it was so dark and you were so tired you didn’t even care at this point.

“Are you okay? Do you need a ride?” The man’s husky voice asked as you nodded, stepping towards the car door and opening it before sliding in.

“Where to?” He asked, placing his hand on the gear stick and the other resting on the wheel.  

“Just Kyung Hee University.” You said and he nodded, keeping his face in the shadows. You felt a little uncomfortable getting a ride from a complete stranger but what else were you supposed to do? Sit around and wait for a friend to show up?

The drive was quiet, it felt like the drive was taking hours even though it was only twenty-two minutes to get there.

When he pulled up outside the school grounds you thanked him and hurried out of the car before running to your dorm.

You peeled the tight clothing from your body and kicked off the heels that were causing your feet to blister and grow sore. Not even caring about showering or putting on other clothes you fell right into the squeaky mattress and fell asleep.

Waking up the next morning to loud banging on your door made you drag yourself out of bed and throw on a t-shirt and answer it. Seeing your best friend with a large grin on her face as she tried to hide the excitement that was dying to burst out.

“It’s here.” She waved the white envelop in his hand as you reached out and grabbed it while pulling her inside and sitting down on your bed. Her sitting opposite with you as she watched with a smile as you stared at it, reading the label.

You bit your lip before tearing open the top in straight line before sliding out the folded paper, shaky hands unfolding it neatly before eyes scanning over the letter.

“Dear Miss L/n, we would gladly like to inform you that you have been chosen out of the top three nominated students and will be attending the six weeks as a student working under great artist Shin Hoseok…!” You squealed with excitement, jumping forwards into your best friend’s arms.

“I knew you would get it! You have amazing talent and you worked so hard for that position.” She said as you pulled back and reread the letter quickly making sure it’s real. Black on white.

“I can’t believe it. I mean I’m glad I got it but…why me?” You said slightly shocked, this is all you’ve ever dreamed about and it’s happening.

“So, when do you start?” She asked as you look back down and read over the details.

“Next week, four in the morning!?” You almost screamed at the time you had to be up and at that place by. Was this for real?  

“Damn, why do they want you to start so early?” She asked, peering at the letter to see no reason as to why you must start at such a ridiculous time of the morning. 

You were already swamped with your other studies and keeping on top of them, how were you supposed to do that and do this?

Maybe you should reconsider this, sure it is a one in a life time opportunity but this should go to someone who has time and deserves it. You looked up to make eye contact with your best friend.

That look on your face which she immediately recognised and shook her head while crossing her arms over her chest.

“No. No. Absolutely not. You worked just as hard for this shit, even more plus did you other subjects. I can take notes in class for you and help with your homework and assignments. Do not give this up please.” She begged and you sighed.

Maybe you could do this, you nodded your head and agreed.

“But if it gets too much for you then you tell me okay? I don’t want you swamped with work just because you have to do my stuff too. Deal?” You held out her hand and with a smirk and a nod she shook it and agreed.

“Deal.”

“Now, what am I going to wear on my first day?”

First impressions were important, not with just attitude but with how you look as well. After many hours and even days of trying to decide what to wear you went with a beige skater skirt and a tucked in white blouse.

You had your hair pulled back into a low bun with strands handing out and decorating the shape of your face. Your rounded golden rim glasses sat on the bridge of your nose and your art diary tucked into your arms carefully.

Along with notes and your own paint brushes. You got your friend to drop you off, so there you stood. Outside the large building that looked like it was old and falling to pieces. You walked up to the door, looking down at the address and number to make sure it’s correct.

You pressed the button for the apartment number and heard a loud buzzing before a little silence followed.

“Name and what do you want?” You heard a deep voice boom from the speaker and you jumped a little.

“U-Uhm, Y/n L/n and I-I’m here for t-the art thi-ng?” You stuttered, your cheeks heating up. There was silence on the other end before a loud buzzing was made again and the door creaked open a little. Allowing you to open it wider and step into the building.

There wasn’t an elevator which meant you had to walk up 5 sets of stairs before getting to his apartment. On the way up you kept trying out things to say and all.

“Hi, it’s so nice to be working with you.” You said in a chirpy tone, shaking your head as you realised it sounded fake and girly.

“Thank you for allowing this opportunity. I take this very seriously.” You said in slight monotone, it made you sound grown up but also like you were trying to make yourself sound older.

“I thank you for accepting me, what shall we start with?” You said in your normal happy tone, it wasn’t perfect but at least it didn’t sound fake or forced. Before you knew it, you were standing outside his door.

Hesitating to knock, you hand had been balled into a fist and ready to knock but thoughts that hadn’t even crossed your mind started to swirl.

What if he doesn’t like me? What if I look too slutty? Will he be mean? Can I actually do this?

You knocked softly three times, hearing only silence as you gripped your book tightly enough for your knuckles to turn white. You held your breath, your eyes growing watering from the lack of oxygen.

Finally, you heard some movement meaning the man was still alive, the door opening and there he stood. A white shirt clung to his body, he wore black sweatpants and grey socks. He had his glasses pushed up so they day on top his head pushing his hair off his forehead.

His brown locks sticking in different directions as if he hadn’t brushed it or combed it. That breath you had been holding slowly left your body, allowing you to suck in another deep breath.

“Ah, the student?” He asked with a slight smirked, you could only nod and look anywhere else but at him.

“Well come on in and we’ll get started.” His eyes quickly scanned over your frame as he said so before shuffling back into his apartment with you to follow. You closed the door and watched him disappear behind a door, you just stood awkwardly as you looked around.

Seeing many famous paintings and some his own he must have painted, all different styles, colours and techniques. They went well against the white plain wall. Hoseok returned just moments later with a silver tray and two tea cups with steam flowing out the tops.

A small bowl of sugar cubes sat between them as he placed them down on the coffee table and gestured for you to sit on the couch.

“I made you some tea, I want to thank you for coming to early. I understand it’s not a good time to be up and working but you have a lot to learn. So we’ll have tea and then I’ll take you to my studio and we can get started…what was your name again?” You wanted to frown but smiled instead and repeated your name.

You tried to remind yourself that he must have a busy life and so him not remembering your name wasn’t the end of the world but this man was your idol. Someone you looked up to and strived to be in so many ways.

He had confidence, rhythm, techniques and a way that made him to not only loved by many but desired by the opposite sex too.

Women wanted to be with him, men wanted to be him. He was just so balanced and into this world and that’s all you’ve ever wanted. A place to be in this world. 

“Right, now we shall start. Follow me.” He stood up and began walking down a hallway, you stood and followed. His studio was in his own apartment? That’s new but interesting. You watched as he twisted an old rusty doorknob and opened up to a bright room.

The silk curtains had been opened to let the warm sun beam in, there in the room stood a few canvases in a semi-circle around a small what looks to be a couch or bed of some sort. Some of the canvases were just started, you could see the outline of curves.

Some had colour, watercolour to be specific added to them. The body shaped and positioned in ways a normal human probably could achieve with willing enough. Some were unrealistic and some were.

He walked over to one and removed the large canvas, placing a new blank one on instead before retrieving a set of watercolours and paint brushes.

“Oh it’s okay, I have my own paint brushes. They’re my lucky ones.” You stated, showing him the few you held tightly in your hand. He scoffed at your comment and rolled his eyes. Did he really just do that?

“Jennie!” He called out, you were confused and about to tell him your name was not Jennie when a door opened and a completely naked woman walked out and towards you two. You looked away, feeling red colour your cheeks as she approached you two.

“Ah Jennie, this is y/n. She’s an amateur art student who has come to learn under me. Y/n this is Jennie, my partner.” You didn’t know why but your body froze. Partner? Your mind circled with the definition.

Partner;

1.  a person who takes part in an undertaking with another or others, especially in a business or firm with shared risks and profits.

 either of two people dancing together or playing a game or sport on the same side.

 either member of a married couple or of an established unmarried couple.

 a person with whom one has sex; a lover.

 a friendly form of address by one man to another.

Maybe they were just close friends, wait why do you care? You are just here to paint and learn and get this over with. Who this man has any sexual relationship with is none of your business. You nodded to whatever they were saying and turned to your canvas. Picking up your pencil ready to start.

“What are you doing?” He asked glancing at your hand with what can only be described as a confused and irritated look.

“I usually draw my outline in pencil before I start.” You said softly, he pulled the pencil out of your hand and threw it across the room. You just stood there in shock and scared.

“No, we don’t do grade five shit. Pick up your paint brush and get started.” He spat, why was he so angry all of a sudden? Not long ago he was a gentleman and made you tea and welcomed you nicely?

You nodded and quietly begun, trying not to stare and show your awkwardness. It was a little hard since a tall woman stood naked in the room in a very what you can only say is a ‘sexual position’ to you.

You glanced over to Hoseok’s canvas to see him doing so well, his eyes trained on her body carefully as he painted what he could see on the canvas. He ran his tongue over his lips and glanced back at his canvas, watching his hand glide along the soft surface.

Creating shape, colour, mood and more. You looked at your own, seeing how realistic it had been trying to be. Maybe you should try something unrealistic. You washed your paint brush off the beige skin colour and began to apply a navy blue instead.

Gliding it along where the beige sat, but doing it in a way that made half of the body navy and the other half skin colour. You continued, working in with other colours of red, yellows and purples. Enjoying how it was turning out.

Hoseok sighed as he put his paintbrush down and looked at his canvas, to him it was another stupid nude piece that would never sell for more than 2,000₩. He bit his lip as he glanced at your canvas, watching your hand glide and create such a big expression.

How is some college student able to do something so beautiful when I can’t even do a body? He though as his eyes moved from the canvas to you. Seeing the trained look in your eyes as you worked. Blocking out the world and distractions.

“Times up.” He growled, causing you to jump and luckily your brush didn’t flinch as you did. Jennie let out a sigh of relief as she got up and stretched her body out from staying in such a position for so long. She walked back into the room and you assume she’s going to get dressed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he spat, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him. You held your breath once again, trying to find your voice somehow.

“I-I was just doing w-what I thought you wanted me to do.” You stuttered and tripped over your words, you could feel your eyes stinging with tears. What was this man’s problem? 

“Well stop trying. You are here to learn and follow my orders.” With that he let you go and stormed off to another room. You stood there shocked and confused as to why he was suddenly being an asshole. 

“Well I’ve never met such an asshole.” You rolled your eyes and scoffed as you spun around to glance at your piece. It had some type of glow to it? You weren’t sure if it was just the bright lighting through the apartment window of the early sun or maybe it did have a glow. 

You began pacing back and forth, trying ti figure out what to say to this man to try and get him to calm down or at least stop being cold towards you in a way. 

“Hello sir, I’m so sorry for causing you any trouble and I do want to learn--no that sounds too ‘pet teacher.’” You said to yourself as you shook your head and continued pacing. 

“Excuse my behavior, I don’t work well in new environ--fuck no. Fuck! Fucking hell. Why am I so shit at all of this? He’s a fucking dick and needs to grow a pair and get over the fact he has a tiny cock!” 

“I have a tiny cock?” You heard a stifled laugh come from the other side of the room and spun around to see him standing there. His hair still pushed back by his glasses and a look in his eye that send shivers down your spine. 

“I-uh, no! That’s not what I meant. I meant to say ‘clock’ cause you have one on the wall that’s very very tiny and I can’t read the time on it. I-uh, I should actually go. Coming here was a mistake this was a mistake.” You said reaching and grabbing your cardigan and bag. 

Going to walk past him but instead he grabbed your arms and pushed you against the nearest wall. His face only inches from yours but his lips only millimeters and they hovered over your own trembling one. 

“You leave when I say you do.” His tone was demanding, very dominant, very...

“Daddy.” As soon as the word slipped you slammed your hands over your mouth and pushed past him and out of the building as fast as your feet would drag you. This was not happening, you did not just say that to your mentor. 

What the fuck happened? It’s like you had no control over your mouth at that time. Out of all the times you could have embarrassed yourself with words it had to be then and there didn’t it? 

You sighed as you walked down the sidewalk, completely unaware of anyone or anything. Your shoulder barging into another and you looked up to apologise to the person only to see eyes you’ve seen before. 

“Baekhyun?” You questioned just to make sure you were talking to the right guy. 

“Y/n, it’s nice to see you here. What are you doing here?” He asked as you chuckled and brushed some loose strands behind your ear and glanced down at your shoes. 

“I um, just finished my first lesson with Hoseok. I got in! I can’t believe it. It’s been...great. Really great.” He gave you this look where he wasn’t sure whether to believe you or not. 

“Why am I having trouble believing you?” He asked and you smiled and shrugged your shoulders. 

“I--” 

“Y/n, there you are. You forgot this at mine.” Hoseok suddenly piped in, holding up the navy blue cardigan you must have dropped when he pushed you up against the wall. You were so stunned you didn’t even notice. 

“Oh Baekhyun, good to see you. I see you’ve been talking to y/n.” Hoseok glanced at your for a second. 

“Yes, we just bumped into each other. I was about to run over to yours actually and tell you about this true artist competition coming up that y/n might be interested in. This is her chance to get her name out there.” Baekhyun said gesturing to you. 

“Well I’ll discuss it with my student. Come along y/n, we still have a lot to work on.” Hoseok said but you shook your head. 

“Actually, I’m kind of unwell. I think I’m going to head back to campus.” You said, rubbing your stomach slightly. 

“I’ll walk you home.” Baekhyun said, going to place his hand on your waist but Hoseok instead pulled you into him and smiled at Baekhyun. 

“Actually, I think I should take her home, I know her address.” And with those words you were being dragged to wherever the heck Hoseok decided to take you. You were a little scared, what was he going to do to you? 

Was he really going to take you home? Or take you to his apartment to abuse you or something for running out like that. You kept your mouth shut the entire time, afraid if you spoke you might upset him more than he already seems to be. 

You arrived back at his apartment, you tried to keep your distance from him but it was a little hard with him backing you up against the wall. You felt a little intimidated by his height and how close his body was to yours. 

His cologne was strong and filled your nostrils, you weren’t sure what he was wearing but it was beautiful. 

“If you ever speak to Byun Baekhyun again, I will end any chance you have at becoming an artist. I’m a very powerful man, I can do things that people wouldn’t even dream.” His harsh tone mixed with his words frightened you. 

Was this man crazy? Thoughts on what to say swirled in your head, you wanted to practice them, a habit you gained from a child. But nothing seemed to want to leave your mouth. You decided to nod and try and squeeze past the man and out the door. 

Taking the fastest way you could back to campus so you could just hide. Your nerves burned and you fell a buzz rush through your body as soon as you made it into your room. Throwing off your cardigan and slipping off your shoes before sitting down. 

Your head spun and your chest heaved up in down, what had you gotten yourself into? This man was very weird and different from what you had read and seen from on stage events. You could feel your stomach bubble and mind twist to come up with a solution. 

Listen. That’s all you could do for now, just listen and follow orders that he gives you and then you can paint and gain experience and then he’ll write a reference letter for you guaranteeing you a gallery show of all your artworks and then you can officially get your name out there. 

Easier said than done.

You ended up falling asleep and waking up to your phone ringing like crazy, who was trying to disturb your slumber? You grabbed your phone, blinking harshly so your eyes could focus as they got used to the bright glow of the screen. 

‘Kim Taehyung is Calling…’ 

You sighed and answered the call, holding the phone up to your ear to listen to your brother probably yell into the phone about something. 

“WHY IS NUI UPSET!?” You winced as his voice bombarded your ear and nearly made you go deaf. 

“I don’t know, what did you do?” You asked, voice hoarse as you sat yourself up and brushed your fingers through your bed hair. 

“I don’t know. I did everything right. I put the toilet seat down after using it, I did the washing, I folded the clothes and put them away in the correct drawer.” He explained and you nodded, responding with a hum. 

“Have you said anything that might of made her upset with you?” You asked and you heard silence for a minute.

“I don’t think so. I was telling her about work giving me more hours and—“

“Ah, see. You did something without consulting her and so she’s upset about that.” You explained and he finally understood.

“Ooohhhh. I’ll talk to her, thanks so much sis.” He said and you smiled to yourself, where would your brother be without you?

“Okay, give my love to Nui and tell mum when you see her next I’m doing great. Love you bro.” He said his goodbyes and hung up, you got out of your bed and slipped into something more comfortable.

Some silk pink shorts and a simple dark grey t-shirt, letting your hair fall out as you slipped on some slippers and grabbed your wallet. It was time for a late night trip to McDonalds for dinner. Only a three minute walk from where you were.

You walked in, thinking on what you want as you read the menu. You finally walked up and ordered, getting your receipt and waiting for it to be ready. Once it was you walked outside, not looking as you bumped into another figure.

“So sorry sir.” You apologised, bowing slightly before meeting their eyes. A smirk appeared across their face as you recognized them.

“Mr. Shin what brings you here?” You asked stuttering throughout your sentence as you avoided eye contact as much as you could.

“I was just getting something to eat quickly. I didn’t realise the time I was so busy painting. Care to join me?” He asked but you only shook your head and was on your way.

Things felt so weird around him now, you didn’t feel comfortable or anything. You just felt like you were, a waste of space.

“I’m sorry, you were pestering me about this before you were selected and now you want to quit? What changed your mind?” Your professor crossed her arms over her chest as you played with your fingers.

“He just is weird. He has a different mood like every five minutes. He was nice in the start then something changed I guess? I don’t know, but I can’t keep seeing him.” You said calmly as she began chucking.

“What?” You asked confused as to why she would laugh at a student’s safety.

“What Mr. Shin Hoseok has Miss L/n is a condition called ‘Bipolar.’ It’s when he has an often change of mood. I’m sure with a little research you can find out a way for you two to get along.” Her hand directed towards the door of her office.

Stating for you to ‘leave’ while she got back to her work. You had heard of the condition before but never thought that an artist like Shin Hoseok would suffer from it. You decided to take her advice, getting into your laptop and researching what it was and how you could handle it.

A lot of web pages and books written about how to handle someone with this issue and what things they don’t like. After some time you finally put the laptop away and grabbed your coat before taking a walk outside.

You wanted to walk around for a bit, get to know the city in a way. You decided to call Baekhyun to ask if he wanted to show you around, you pulled out your phone and dialled the number for his assistant who would transfer you to him.

“Byun Baekhyun’s office.” The lady answered as you stopped and moved to the side so people could walk past while you talked and stood in the stop.

“Hi, my name is Y/n L/n I was—“

“Oh yes! Mr Byun said to let him know when you called. I’ll put you through.” And within seconds Baekhyun’s voice was ringing in your ears like a beam of sunlight warming you up on a cold day.

“I thought you’d never call again.” He chuckled, a smile broke out on your face.

“Actually I was wondering if you wanted to give me a tour around the city maybe? We could meet up outside a restaurant and maybe get something to eat?” You asked, you weren’t sure if he could hear the shakiness in your voice but he still agreed.

“I’d love to. Where do you want to meet up at?” He asked, you looked around. Spotting a simple restaurant before glancing at the name.

“Minho’s?” You suggested and heard a small hum.

“Alright. See you soon.” He hung up and you headed over to wait, sitting down in the seat and waiting quietly for Baekhyun to show.

As soon as the call ended Baekhyun couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, he began getting ready. Putting on a simple white button up shirt tucked into some blue jeans and putting on some shoes before grabbing his sunglasses and slipping them onto his face.

He left this apartment quickly and began heading down the pathway to the restaurant, he was thinking about what he would talk about with you once he got there. He didn’t want to talk about work or jobs or Hoseok.

He’d prefer to keep it casual, normal conversations about interests and dislikes. He was practically power walking down the side-walk, people giving him funny looks as he went by which he ignored. Until he ran into someone he didn’t want to see today.

“Baekhyun, it’s nice to see you today. Where you off to?” He asked, a small smirk on his face and Baekhyun tried to think of a quick excuse.

“Just out for lunch with a friend.” It wasn’t a total lie, he was going to lunch and you were just a friend…for now.

“Who’s the friend?” Hoseok asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Baekhyun’s face slightly stiffen.

“Nobody you know, just an old art friend of mine.” Baekhyun lied right through his teeth causing Hoseok to smirk.

“Seven years and have you ever been able to lie to me?” Hoseok asked and Baekhyun sighed, getting irritated because he had to meet with you.

“I know who it is now, you’re off to see my student.” Hoseok chuckled at how red Baekhyun began to go in the cheeks, but even though he looked like he was mocking Baek on the outside on the inside his insides were burning in irritation.

“I-I know what this looks like Hoseok but I promise you it’s not what you think. We’re just going to lunch and having a nice day out together.” Baekhyun said calmly, face still heated and red.

“Yeah, like a date.” Hoseok stated and Baekhyun shook his head, not wanting to give in easily. Baekhyun did want this to be a date, but he didn’t know if you saw him like that or not.

“Baekhyun, if you go on that date, I’ll tell everyone about Lisa. I’m sure the newspaper will love to have your photos splashed and in black and white. ‘Critic? More like Killer.’” Hoseok said, using his hands to get out what he was saying.

“Lisa was an accident! You know that, and you’re just as guilty as me that night!” With that Baekhyun stormed off, in the opposite direction. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for you to see him right now, Hoseok smirked as he watched his friend storm off.

He began heading towards the restaurant that you sat at, you were glowing. He’d never seen you looks so relaxed and happy. But he could feel his insides burning again knowing that the only reason you were so happy currently was because you thought Baekhyun was coming.

He walked on over, acting like he didn’t see you at you. You looked up and almost yelped when you saw him standing there at the front counter. You grabbed the menu, hiding yourself behind it.

“Ma’am are you ready to take your order?” The waiter asked, holding a pen and notepad as he looked down at you. Hoseok looked over, already knowing it was you and smirked. ‘

“No not yet thank you.” You squeaked out, after a few minutes you decided to put the menu down. He must have not seen you. As soon as you placed it down you screamed slightly and your body jolted as you saw a smirking Hoseok sitting across from you.

“What can I do you for?” You asked, trying your best to plaster a smile onto your face as Hoseok smirked slightly.

“Well hello to you as well, it’s nice to see you after you ran out of my apartment the other day and we haven’t had any contact since then.” Hoseok said and you began to go red, feeling embarrassed that he knew you were trying to avoid him.

“I-I’ve been busy.” You defended causing a small chuckle to leave his lips.

“I don’t know how you think this works but you’re required to come every day from four to whatever time you leave. Staying for at least four hours which is the minimum time before you can leave.” Hoseok explained causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yes, I know how it works I read the letter when I received it thank you.” You said with an irritated tone evident before pulling the menu back up to hide your face.

“Then what are you doing, sitting in a restaurant, waiting for Baekhyun?” He asked, causing you to slam the menu back down onto the table. A few people glancing in your direction to see the commotion.

“How do you know I’m waiting for him. I could be waiting for my mother to arrive.” You said and he smiled, enjoying your reaction to this.

“He told me all about it, he told me how he was going to come to this lunch, then walk around with you, he would buy you flowers, then when you thought things couldn’t get better you two would go to the fare tonight and he would kiss you on top of the Ferris wheel. Once he’s got you all over him, he’ll take you back to his apartment, sleep with you, then slowly destroy your life.”

As Hoseok explained Baekhyun’s ‘So Called’ plans to woo you, he kept a stern face. His tone didn’t weave any silliness or over exaggerations. He was dead serious.

“No, Baekhyun wouldn’t hurt me like that.” You said, trying your best to fight back the tears. Is that really who Baekhyun is?

“Well if he didn’t want to hurt you, then why did he stand you up?” You opened your mouth to protest and defend Baek but he had you there. Where was Baekhyun? Hoseok lived further away from Baekhyun and he made it here before him.

Your phone began ringing, the number reading a slightly memorable one so you picked up. Eyes on Hoseok as you answered the call.

“Hello?” You asked, hearing the same female’s voice you spoke to earlier.

“Yes Miss L/n, I am Mr. Byun’s assistant calling to inform you he had to cancel last minute due to a meeting coming up. He would like to reschedule and would like you to call back when you have a time and date in mind?” Your eyes tried to leave the man’s who had been sitting across from you.

But they couldn’t, you were so shocked that he knew this would happen. Had Baekhyun done this to women or girls before? Lead them on and make plans and ruin everything at last minute. No he was too good to be like that.

“Actually, I’m free Monday night, would he like to take me out then?” You asked, hearing some shuffling of papers before her voice returned.

“He has a meeting from six until eight so he should be good for eight-thirty to eleven.” She said and you agreed to the time and date. Hanging up and looking away from Hoseok.

“Let me guess, he had some business to attend to? Yeah, that’s his message of ‘go away.’” Hoseok said, you didn’t care anymore, tears burned your eyes as they threatened to fall while you shook your head and kept it low to avoid any fuss.

“Why are you doing this? Do the problems in my life entertain you or something? You’re a sick person.” You stood up and stormed out of the restaurant, paying the bill before leaving.

Hoseok sat there stunned, your words hitting a nerve and something in his head was triggered. His own mother abandoning him after she said she would be back later.

He was sitting on the floor in the living room, playing with his blocks when he saw his mother with bags in her hands. She looked sad.

“Mummy where are you going?” He asked, his mother whimpering as she fought back the tears.

“Just out for a bit baby.” She said softly.

“Will you be back?” He asked, she nodded. Biting her tongue as she tried not to cry.

“When?” He asked, she sighed. Taking in his picture for a moment before answering.

“Soon.” And with that she left him, alone. Forgotten.

Hoseok didn’t realise he had phased out and stood up before leaving as well to return to his own apartment.

He sat in his chair, hand balled into a fist as he rested his chin on it slightly. Thinking as his other hand rested on the arm of the leather brown couch, his fingers tapping slowly against it as he was lost in thought.

“Hoseok, are you coming?” He was brought back to reality a he looked up to see Jennie standing in the door frame facing him. A silk black robe around her but not done up showing him the black lace she wore underneath as she had a subtle smirk on her lips.

He sighed and stood up, slowly walking over towards the room. She made her way towards the bed and he turned around so his body now faced out towards the couch he just sat on. He closed the door slowly, not sure if he was really in the mood tonight. 

“Is something wrong baby?” He sat on the edge of the bed, still lost in thought. He felt so confused and lonely. She began kissing down his neck, running her hands along his torso feeling his upper body build. 

“No, nothing.” He said, mind still lost somewhere else but slowly coming back to the real world. 

“Good.” His hand slid down and grabbed his clothed crotch, squeezing it causing an aroused grunt to leave his lips as he succumbed to the pleasure she was giving him. But while she did everything to him, he couldn’t take his mind off you.

You were stuck there like glue in his head, he wanted to only think of Jennie and no one else. He wanted to not be that guy that thinks of another girl while fucking someone else. 

But he was, and it looks like for now that might be a secret he’ll keep to himself. 

The first part is done yayayay! I hope you guys like it, I enjoyed writing it even though it was long. But yeah, part two will be out soon! 

- Admin 체리≈

[fuckyeahexofics]

Hello admins~ I recently read Artful Sins ( sekai ) and I absolutely loved it. I was wondering if there are any similar fics with Pack/ pride or shapeshifter long chaptered fics?

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Hello! You can check out our ABO verse tag for fics with packs/ pride, below are some of my recommendations for long chaptered ABO fics, enjoy!

eventually (i fall into you) (Kyungsoo/Jongin, NC-17)love is just a daydream (Minseok/ Jongdae/Chanyeol, NC-17)Storming Seas (Kyungsoo/Jongin, NC-17)Soulbinder (Jongin/Sehun, NC-17)These hands not fit for holding (Minseok/Chanyeol, NC-17)Yes, Alpha (Kyungsoo/Jongin, NC-17)

-cat

[sebaekficrec]

I can't really remember the title of the fic but its about Sehun searching the net about sebaek fan arts and being able to find a website/blog full of sebaek nc-17 stuff then Baekhyun saw Sehun browsing the blog and then they ended up having sex in the end (?) I really hope you can help me find it. Thanks!

hello! i believe the fic you’re looking for is click here for sebaek porn by yeolis ! there are multiple fics on this entry so just scroll down til you see the sebaek one, it should be the third story! hope that’s the one you’re looking for!

[kaisooficrec]

A Prince Among Tigers

Author: honeyedapricotsunshine

Genre: Royalty AU, Martial Arts School AU, Romance, Humor, Smut, Angst

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Light violence (fight scenes) 

Length: Chaptered (on-going)

Summary: When Kyungsoo, prince of Joseon, is ambushed by goblins on the road to Hanyang, his father, the King, decides to send Kyungsoo to the mysterious Tiger Mountain School to learn how to fight. Deprived of the comforts of royal life, Kyungsoo struggles to find his footing and woo the cold but incredibly handsome Jongin, a fellow student at the school

Admin Macaroon’s Notes: very interesting au! i can’t wait to see what’s going to happen next, the angst just started to kick in c: 

Read.