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#< new tagging system maybe if the others agree
astralfandoms · 4 months
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the host's asleep post the cog relationship chart meme that we made months ago
anyway uhhh i'm not tagging everyone because I Would Rather Die but for any of your relationship needs <3
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paganinpurple · 2 years
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AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED
Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.
It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:
As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.
If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.
No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).
Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.
There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.
For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.
The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.
Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.
If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.
Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.
Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.
People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.
Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.
Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.
It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.
The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.
I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.
I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.
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buckets-and-trees · 1 month
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Obsidian Stain and Sin
Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for quite a while. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond anything you bargained for.
Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending
Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.
A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!
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You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.
A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.
“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.
“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”
You nod. “First tattoo ever.”
“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”
He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.
“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”
“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.
“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”
You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.
“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.
Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.
You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.
The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.
This is happening.
You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.
The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.
As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.
The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.
But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.
Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.
"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.
You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”
“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.
“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.
You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.
“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”
Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?
He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.
You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.
"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.
You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.
He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."
You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.
"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."
You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.
"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.
The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.
"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.
Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."
You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"
You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.
"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"
You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.
“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”
You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.
He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.
"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.
His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.
"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"A little," you admit.
"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.
Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.
"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."
You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.
"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.
Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"
You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.
Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."
The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.
The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"
You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."
“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”
You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.
“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.
He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.
As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.
"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"
You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."
Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."
You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."
"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."
You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”
Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"
His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.
"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"
Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."
He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”
The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.
Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."
The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.
“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.
Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.
The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”
He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.
"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"
Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.
"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."
You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.
"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"
Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"
You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."
Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.
"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.
Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."
With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.
“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."
You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.
Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"
You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."
He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.
After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."
His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.
"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."
You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.
"It's beautiful," you breathe.
Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."
You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.
"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.
As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.
"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."
Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”
You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.
"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.
"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.
Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."
As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.
"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."
You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.
Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."
You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.
As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."
Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."
Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.
You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.
You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.
After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.
It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.
The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.
Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.
But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.
Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.
No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.
“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.
“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.
You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.
“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”
You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.
"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.
Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.
Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"
You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.
“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.
You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your above, over, and below the crook of your elbow.
“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”
Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.
He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”
“No?”
“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”
“It… isn’t?”
“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.
He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"
You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."
Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”
Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.
"What do you think?" he asks.
Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.
"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.
Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."
Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.
"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.
“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.
Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.
"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."
His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.
"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.
He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.
Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."
Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.
Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.
"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"
You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.
"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."
As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.
"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."
The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."
Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.
"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.
You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."
Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."
His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.
"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"
The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.
Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"
You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.
A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”
Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.
“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.
"I don't know what you mean.”
Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."
His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.
"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"
The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.
"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.
You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.
"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.
"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"
You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.
"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.
Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."
His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.
"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"
You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.
"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."
One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.
"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”
You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.
"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"
You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.
Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."
Your breath hitches. “No.”
“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”
You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.
"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"
Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."
You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.
"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.
Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”
Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.
"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"
"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."
His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.
“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.
You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”
Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.
His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.
"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."
You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.
Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.
"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, andI've got you."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.
Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.
"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.
Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"
Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.
Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.
Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”
Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.
You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.
Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.
Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.
“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.
Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.
“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.
Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.
Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.
Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.
Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.
Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.
Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.
“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”
You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.
“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.
Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.
Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.
“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.
While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.
When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.
“Open your eyes,” he commands.
But it doesn’t register.
He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.
His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”
And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.
“Ari,” you groan.
“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”
You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.
“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.
You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.
“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”
He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.
“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.
Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”
“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”
“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.
And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.
But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.
And then they both began to move.
In and out and in and out and inandout.
And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.
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runningfrom2am · 11 months
Text
leveling the playing field IV
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summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.5k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!!
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a/n: im just hammering this out at this point-
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The following days were full of a new routine. Every morning, take pain medication for your now neverending migraine, gather food for Lucy Gray and the Snow's, check in with Jessup and redress his bite as best you can, go to the hospital and be denied visitation to Coryo, go to class, and then start the cycle again that afternoon. You were getting burnt out, and quickly- your parents were displeased that you weren't home as often. Their patience was wearing thin.
If you were honest with yourself, your patience was also wearing thin. You were catering to Lucy Gray, which of course you agreed to do, but in the case that she wins the games, the Plinth Prize would not be going to you. It would still go to Coriolanus- and he was in the hospital doing nothing but recovering. Which was good. You remind yourself several times a day that you are happy to help because at least he isn't dead.
The sun is setting when Coriolanus wakes up again, this time feeling less groggy. He's been in and out the last few days, most of it as a blur due to the pain medication that has been pumping into his system through an IV for the last few days. He does vaguely remember waking up to eat as much as he could stomach, talking to Clemensia, maybe, unless he was hallucinating, and telling a nurse to stop letting you in when he kept seeing covered plates and glass containers showing up with more food. It had to have been you, and while he was grateful for it, he loathed the idea of you pitying him.
Tigris and Sejanus were both present, now, and despite telling the staff to not let you in, he's more than a little disappointed you are not there. He furrows his brow, attempting to pull out the tube from his hand. "Hey, hey-" Tigris stops him, shaking her head out of confusion. "What are you doing?"
"I'm fine. I'm better." He insists, pushing her hand away.
"I need to go check on Lucy Gray..." He mumbles, shaking his head.
"Y/N is with her. She's fine." Sejanus tells him, standing by the end of the bed.
"Now? What time is it? How do you know?"
"Well, the interviews will start in an hour or so." His friend explains.
"An hour?" Coriolanus asks, now more frantically pulling out the tube with a hiss. He has to be there, he has to go introduce Lucy Gray. He didn't even consciously realize time was passing while he was there.
"No, Coryo, you can't go. Y/N can handle it." Tigris says, trying to calm him.
"Sejanus, are you going?" He asks, ignoring his cousin completely.
Sejanus looks down, shaking his head and twisting his fingers out of nervousness. "No, uh, Marcus escaped. He's gone."
Coriolanus was disappointed- he was hoping he would be able to hitch a ride with him. He'll have to run- though it isn't too far.
"Okay, well, I'm going." He insists, grabbing a pile of clean clothes that Tigris had brought for him the day previous.
Tigris gives up on trying to stop him, and Sejanus hasn't really attempted to. He knows that you would be happy to see him if he is feeling well enough to go. Watching you in class, constantly jittery and even a little pale, made it evident that you needed Coriolanus, or you were worried, at the very least.
Thankful for the morphing he still had in his bloodstream, he makes it to the studio in time for Lucy Gray's interview, even with a few minutes to spare. As soon as he sees you, he can tell that you've been struggling. The bags under your eyes couldn't be hidden by makeup, nor could your healing bruises from the bombing that were now turning a shade of green that would typically make him ill. Scattered as well among them were some darker ones, purple ones, around your elbow and on your wrist. Regardless, you're smiling- talking in a hushed tone to Lucy Gray.
You're opening your brother's guitar case, carefully lifting it out of the velvet that surrounded it when you see Coryo walking toward you, and you're immediately abandoning your effort to stand up and greet him. "Coryo? What are you doing here?" You ask, excitement fading into worry.
"I wouldn't miss it." He smiles politely, adjusting his cuffs.
You sigh, finding the effort to match his smile. "You made it." Lucy Gray grins at him, brushing over her face with a cloth you offered her, a small effort to clean up the dirt and grime that clung to her skin in the zoo.
"Well, I got her a guitar. It's my brothers." You quickly move on, already feeling comforted by his presence alone. You grab it, holding it out to him as Lucy digs into the makeup that you had brought for her to borrow, hoping to add some life back into her face.
He takes it, looking over the polished wood and the brand-new strings. "Thank you. And it's tuned? Working order?"
"Tip top shape." You promise with a nod. "I had it professionally looked over this morning."
"You're a dream." Coryo praises you, making you blush. "Thank you, Y/N. Truly."
"It's my job."
Lucy Gray did amazing in her performance- and everyone loved it. She received the most donations by a long shot, which will allow Coriolanus to help her in the arena. As much as he can without changing her abilities to defend herself or fight, anyway.
You had made it home shortly after, returning your brother's guitar and having a shower before practically crawling into bed. Finally, you feel like you may be able to get a good night's sleep. Coryo is home, and even though you have an early morning, you'll be able to relax enough to rest.
That is, until you hear something snapping against the window next to your bed. You try and ignore it, covering your ears with your pillow, but the tapping persists.
You flick on your lamp and hesitantly pull back the curtain, peeking out to track the source of the noise. It was only a moment before your eyes landed on Coryo, who waves when he can see you in the window. You rub your eyes, squinting from the light and sliding the window open.
"Coryo?" You ask, confused as to why he's here.
"Come down, bring your notebook." He whispers loud enough for you to hear, but his voice is still soft enough to not wake anyone else in your house. "And a coat, it's quite cold."
You sigh. "Okay. Give me two minutes." Apparently, rest isn't a part of your evening plans.
You follow alongside him all the way to the arena, already set up to host the Hunger Games in the morning.
"Woah..." You gasp, walking into the same clearing you had just days before, but now it looked like a whole new place. "Okay. This we can work with." You smile a little to yourself, not noticing Coryo training his eyes on you.
He watches as you walk ahead of him, immediately toward the center of the large room as you scribble in your notebook. You wanted to get down as many details as possible, every new pile of debris or hole that could offer a place of refuge for Lucy Gray. Coriolanus wants to focus on the task at hand, but this is the first time he's been around you without the prying eyes of classmates or adults in a long time. You were never alone, he almost always was outside of school.
Walking up next to you, the light from the moon hits your hair and the side of your face as you look around, hardly glancing at the book in your hand. "Are you..." He starts, being reminded of what he noticed on the walk over but wouldn't dare to mention.
"Hm?" You prompt him to continue, drawing your attention to the boy in front of you now and lifting your pen to your mouth, biting onto it while you shake out a cramp in your wrist.
"Are you wearing makeup?" He asks, leaning in slightly to get a closer look.
"Excuse me?" You laugh awkwardly after grabbing the pen once more, taking a small step back. "Certainly your grandmother taught you its unbecoming to ask a lady such a question."
He chuckles slightly, looking away from you. "Bold of you to assume I consider you a lady." He jokes.
You gasp in mock offense, playfully smacking his arm. "How dare you!" You can't help but laugh. Now you remember why you were friends. Or why you considered him a friend, and why he believed that he was merely tolerating you. In reality, he didn't have to bring you. He could have come on his own, but why should he when you would be willing to accompany him? You're known for your attitude, your brashness, and he admired your unwavering ambition- whatever you wanted you would get. Not just because of your family name, either. You were willing to work for it, to fight for it.
Coriolanus was walking a fine line between desiring your presence and his own indifference. Now, surpassing a mere tolerance of you, this change scared him. "I know what you look like, you know. It's the middle of the night, there was no use wasting our time with putting on makeup." He says, not wanting to let on his own intrigue on the topic.
"I would argue that you don't, not since we were fourteen, anyway." You reply, dipping your head to get back to your sketching. "It's more of a force of habit."
His closeness allows him to grab your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently but firmly lifting your head back up to get a better look at you. Your eyes widen, your heartbeat increasing with a mix of fear and embarrassment.
His eyes bore into you, into every part of your face as if your skin would somehow tell him the full story. You can't bring yourself to speak, just waiting for him to find the answers he wanted.
"Is it your father?" He asks, looking into your eyes now, his grip loosening on your chin.
You take a quick step back. You were aware that he knew something, he was the only one who tended to stare too long at your skin wherever it was exposed ever since you were thirteen and he asked what happened when you came to school with a bruise on your cheek. Notably more so after your essay last year that rewarded you with only a B.
"I won't tell anyone." He says, and your own voice echoes in your mind after telling him the same thing just the other day at your house. "I would have by now if I was going to."
"Why do you care?" You bite back, defensiveness being your go to weapon in a war of self-preservation.
He wants to spit at you that he doesn't, but that's a lie he couldn't even dream of in this moment. You'd storm out, probably never talk to him again, and that idea hurt him. "I want to help you."
"Well, not much anyone can do now is there?" You reply, attempting to move on. "Let's look around." You try and change the subject, give yourself an outlet to walk away, but this doesn't work as Coryo is grabbing your wrist, stopping you from taking another step.
"You can help by ignoring it." You sigh, his blue eyes just staring as he scrambled to find the right thing to say. "By not treating me like I'm going to break at every turn. How does that sound?"
He opens his mouth to speak but he doesn't, slightly shaking his head. He wants to release his grip on your wrist, tense and tight with urgency, but how could he without giving you the idea he thinks he's hurting you? He slides his hand into yours, holding his breath. "I apologize. It's not what I intended."
Now it's your turn to be speechless, staring down at your hands locked together.
"I just wanted to keep you safe." He explains, dancing around the idea even in his own mind that maybe he cares for you more than he should. "After Arachne, and after Clemensia, and now the Ring twins and Felix still fighting in that hospital bed it's so obvious to me that we are far from safe in this. We always were."
Your brow furrows. "What happened to Clem?"
"Dr. Gaul..." He takes in a deep breath. "One of her experiments, Clemensia has been in the hospital for days and she has these scales growing all over her and I thought I watched her die and then you almost died and-"
"Hey, hey, woah-" You cut him off, stepping closer again and not daring to drop his hand as he begins to crumble in front of you. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
He just nods, attempting to swallow back the fear in his voice.
"Okay. So, we've made it this far. You'll get that prize, we'll move on. Next year it will be someone else's problem. You will be safe." You say, squeezing his hand gently. "We're almost done, just a few more days."
His mouth is dry, and despite his heart racing, he knows you are right. After tonight, you won't be face-to-face with the tributes again. Neither of you will be in harm's way anymore, at least, not due to the games. Life will return to normal for you, and he will claim the prize he is owed and his life will change for the better. You won't be bringing him food every day, and you won't both be stressing over how to best prepare Lucy Gray. The tightness in his chest returns as his thoughts devolve- will he miss you?
It catches you off guard when he pulls you into a hug. Tight, panicked, heavy under the weight of all the tragedy and grief the two of you walk around with day to day. There is no one who gets him quite like you do. This time, he rests his chin on your head as your arms wrap around his waist, hands overlapping on his back. No, it's not enough. He tilts his head down so he can feel the warmth of you on his cheek, holding you tight as he takes in the scent of your hair. It's not roses, not like his mother's powder or what's left of her clothes in the Snow apartment, it's fresh. The smell of whatever soap you use doesn't demand to be noticed and inhaled, it's mostly full of you. Raspberries. That's it- it's raspberries mixed with you.
"We're almost done..." You whisper again, gently rubbing his back now in reassurance. He wonders, could you not feel the weight of everything? Of both of your entire lives barreling toward you all at once? Of course not. You were Y/N Y/L/N, you could only feel the pain of others; altruism drips out of every ounce of your being despite your habit of lashing out. Of course, you couldn't see it. You only saw him right now. Not his fear of losing you.
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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 10 months
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How to Leave Comments on Fanfiction
So, I recently made a poll to know if people might find it helpful to have a list of things they could talk about when leaving comments on fanfictions, be it on Ao3 or on here. A majority of people were interested in seeing the post so, well, I'm making it. I started writing and posting stuff online when I was a teenager, on a website where leaving constructive criticism was the norm. It's by far the place where I've gotten the most feedback and it was an incredibly formative experience for me as a young writer — and it taught me how to leave detailed comments.
Writing comments doesn't necessarily come easy. It's something that you may need to learn how to do, but the good news is that you can learn how to do it, so don't worry if you don't know what to say at first. Hopefully this list will give you some pointers on how to do that.
This is more or less the list I go through when I want to leave a detailed comment. Even if I don't have a specific idea at first, I'll go through the steps and I never come out empty-handed.
Comment etiquette:
What became apparent with the poll I made was that a lot of people worry about how they'll be perceived by the writers if they leave a comment. Now, obviously, writers aren't a monolith, but 99% of the time writers will be thrilled that you took the time to leave a comment to let them know what you enjoyed in their fic. I cannot stress this enough. We're not going to judge someone based on a positive comment they leave.
As it stands, on Tumblr and Ao3, it's seen as rude to leave negative feedback, unless the author has explicitly asked for it/agreed to it, so that's what I'll be going over here. Since quite a few writers did say on that post that they would like to get constructive comments as well, stay tuned, I'm trying to get something together to do that for authors. Other than that, you're good to go.
The main ways to let an author know your thoughts on a fic on Tumblr are:
reblogging a fic with your thoughts underneath it
reblogging with your thoughts in the tags, which is often less formal
leaving a comment as a 'reaction'
sending in an ask if they're activated on the blog (which means you can stay anonymous, if anon asks are allowed)
Reblogging means that your followers will see the post as well, and is therefore really appreciated on Tumblr.
As a note, you may find different systems work for different fics! Maybe leaving tag rambles works for you when commenting on drabbles, for example for me it's the system I use to leave comments on smut.
General advice:
Everything I'm saying in here is for people who want to be able to leave longer/more detailed comments and don't always know where to start. If, for whatever reason, you're not comfortable or you don't have time to do it at the moment, a simple "I love the fic, thank you for writing it" always goes a long way for an author.
The key thing to keep in mind if you're trying to find something else to say, I think, is to try making the comment specific to the fic you're leaving it on. It shows the writer what you took away from the fic and the fic's strong points, which is both meaningful and helpful to an author.
Comments don't have to be long to be meaningful. Don't stress about writing a ton; a one-sentence comment highlighting the fic's humor or how emotional it made you can be incredibly impactful.
With this out of the way, I'll go through things you can talk about in a comment, starting with what I think is the easiest and moving on to things that could require more thought. You don't have to do all of that. You may never use some of the things on that list. Leaving comments should not be a source of anxiety. So take what you want from the list, maybe come back to it if you need more inspiration, and don't worry too much about it :)
Favorite line(s) : pull from the fic to let the author know what your favorite line was. If you wish, you can expand on that by saying why it was your favorite: did it make you laugh? Did it make you feel something specific? Did the author nail the characterization with it? Was there some incredible metaphor? Did you find it beautiful or poetic even if you can't go into detail? Is there one line in particular at the beginning of the fic that hooked you in and made you want to keep reading?
All of that is very valuable for a writer to know. Some of my favorite comments I've gotten were a list of a reader's favorite lines from a fic with one or two sentences to explain why they liked them, so don't hesitate to do that more than once if you can!
Emotions:  if there’s one thing I know about writers, it’s that we’re thrilled when we’ve made you cry. So tell us: how did the writing make you feel? Did you laugh out loud? If you did, was it the dialogue, or the narrator? Did it make you cry? Which part? Could you relate to one of the characters? Did it make you feel seen? Did the fluff make you feel all fuzzy inside or did the angst twist knots in your stomach? This isn't an exhaustive list, and emotions are great to draw from when you're leaving a comment!
Favorite element of the writing: Is there one thing in the writing that struck you as being particularly good, or what was your favorite thing to read? Is the author a master at writing dialogue? Are their descriptions so good you could see the whole scene? Are they really good at getting in a character's head and describing their emotions? Were you hooked from the start and couldn't stop until you reached the end?
Characterization: Now, this might be less instinctive, but if you've been in a fandom for a while, you'll probably be able to identify these things fairly easily. You can tell the author if you think they've nailed one aspect of a character. Did you have a favorite character in the fic? What did you think of them? Did the author manage to capture their voice? Was the attitude spot-on? Which parts of the character, if you can name them? Were there aspects of the character you particularly enjoyed? Did the author shine a light on something you hadn't considered or on something you don't think is highlighted often enough? Is there one thing from the fic you can actually picture/hear a character doing/saying in your head?
Style: I'd argue this is the hardest part, and you shouldn't feel bad if it's not something you can really comment on. As someone whose first language isn't English, I know I struggle with it. Style can be perceived as the way the author's voice comes through in the text. It can come through in punctuation, in the way sentences are formed, in the choice of the words themselves. If, when you read, you feel something intangible that doesn't fit well in the other categories, it just might be the author's style.
Here are some things (non-exhaustive list, of course) you could say about an author's style: it can be direct, straight to the point. The author doesn't bother with ornaments. Every sentence feels impactful. Maybe the writing feels intense. You're overwhelmed by the characters and their feelings and you feel truly engulfed in the story. Maybe the style is light and airy. It's so easy to read you don't even notice you are reading. Maybe the writing is intricate. Going through it is like piecing a puzzle together, sentences are foreshadowing and metaphors reveal deep truths about the characters. Maybe the style is rich. While not always the easiest, it's a pleasure to read through it, the author has a wide vocabulary, and you might want to compare it to a well-written novel.
If you identify specific elements of that style (metaphors, interesting use of punctuation, etc.), don't hesitate to point them out and let the author know you enjoy them!
That is it for this post, hopefully it doesn't look too daunting — again, you absolutely do not need to do all that in any comment, but maybe going through this list can help you leave comments for authors you enjoy.
I like to end my comments with 'Thank you for writing and sharing this with us', so I'll tell you thank you for reading, I hope this was helpful, and please consider reblogging if you'd like to save this or if you think it could help someone else!
As a bonus, my friend @elidebrey and I (but mostly her) made a 'checklist' for commenting, to help remember all this if that's something you'd like, so use at will!
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A big thank you to @elidebrey, @yoongihan and @antoniorhinothethird for their precious opinions on this ♥
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I'm an A-Level student and so many of my classmates use ChatGPT for essays in Law and RS and stuff - like, they sound proud of themselves, as if they're cheating the system and being clever? Just makes me feel very bleak. What are we doing man
Well, the unfortunate news for them is that they are going to struggle if they make it to uni.
This is the big problem with AI - it cannot analyse a single thing. If I were to say to you "What are the features Tumblr users would most want and why?", you are a human being with a brain and experiences and decision-making skills, and you could probably sit and come up with an answer. You would base that answer on things you personally find lacking, or want to see; you would also base it in things you have seen others bemoaning on the site.
For example, I reckon I'd say something like:
The permanent ability to boop people with a cat paw, which is implemented as opt-in. Also customisable, so you can choose whether you want a random cat paw to appear on your screen each time it happens to you. Also a different animation for super boop/evil boop, and maybe more boop options than those two, and maybe also different paw colours.
Actual enforcement of hate speech rules. We all agree to them when we join, so it's perfectly legal to delete someone for spouting Nazi shit AND YET.
No more banning or censoring queer folks' accounts
More ability to adjust the interface for disabled bloggers, e.g. colour and contrast, font, layout, switching off moving GIFs or other animations by default, etc.
Tag editing, it's frustrating having to delete whole tags.
Tag memory! Where have my tags gone??? For a year now I have slightly better luck on desktop, but for the most part, which of my tags are remembered by autofill and which are never, ever offered to me has been wholly divorced from how often I've used them. And my tags are often lengthy and odd, so it's become much harder to use mobile.
No data scraping. This is the anti-cap site thank you. Also on that note, get rid of the For You section and any other algorithmic tracking, because it's just as likely to show you a Nazi blog as an anti-Nazi one as long as you have spent any time at all discussing Nazism.
Better blocking ability, on that note.
Better search function
I could go on, but you get the idea. That's analysis that I've done, based on discussions I have seen and taken part in, and my own experiences.
I just asked ChatGPT. Here's what it had to say:
"Tumblr users have diverse preferences, but there are several features that many users would likely appreciate: 1. Improved Content Discovery: Tumblr is known for its vast array of content, so improving content discovery mechanisms such as personalized recommendations, trending topics, and enhanced search functionality can help users find more of the content they enjoy. 2. Enhanced Customization Options: Tumblr users value the ability to customize their blogs extensively. Providing more themes, layout options, and customization tools can empower users to express themselves creatively and make their blogs unique. 3. Integration of Multimedia Formats: Tumblr is a platform where users share various types of multimedia content, including images, GIFs, videos, and audio. Enhancing support for different media formats, improving media upload and management features, and optimizing the viewing experience can enhance user engagement. 4. Improved Mobile Experience: Many Tumblr users access the platform via mobile devices. Therefore, optimizing the mobile app for better performance, usability, and feature parity with the desktop version can greatly enhance the user experience. 5. Community Engagement Features: Tumblr has a vibrant community, so features that facilitate interaction among users, such as improved messaging, reblogging, tagging, and commenting functionalities, can foster a sense of community and increase user engagement. 6. Content Moderation Tools: Given the diverse content on Tumblr, providing users with robust content moderation tools, including options for filtering, blocking, and reporting inappropriate content, can help ensure a safer and more enjoyable experience for all users. 7. Monetization Options for Creators: Many Tumblr users are content creators who would appreciate opportunities to monetize their content. Introducing features such as ad revenue sharing, subscription-based content, or integrated e-commerce capabilities can incentivize creators to produce high-quality content and invest more in their Tumblr presence. 8. Accessibility Features: Improving accessibility features such as alt text support for images, screen reader compatibility, and customizable text sizes and color schemes can make Tumblr more inclusive and accessible to users with disabilities. 9. Privacy and Security Enhancements: Enhancing privacy controls, data protection measures, and account security features can help users feel more confident and secure when using the platform, which is especially important given concerns about online privacy and security. 10. API and Third-Party Integration: Opening up Tumblr's API and allowing for easier integration with third-party services and apps can encourage innovation and development within the Tumblr ecosystem, providing users with more options and flexibility in how they use the platform. Overall, focusing on improving content discovery, customization options, community engagement, and user safety while also providing opportunities for creators to monetize their content can help Tumblr retain and attract users in a competitive social media landscape."
It's possible that feels alright, on first glance. But take a closer look.
Every point made is vague, and disconnected from any real life examples. In the very first point, it thinks we want better search functions (yes!) but also more algorithmic recommendations (no!). It wants us to have personalised recommendations AND better security, in fact, which are incompatible - but an LLM doesn't and can't know that. Monetisation of the platform is something that has historically faced appalling backlash from users, and this thing is suggesting ad revenue sharing and subscription services.
Because, its suggestions are generic suggestions. These are not Tumblr-specific. No mention of queerphobia, no mention of Nazis, and absolutely zero understanding of what the specific users on this site actually want.
... all of which is to say...
It's what is academically known as descriptive work. It lays out some facts, but there's no depth, no analysis, no interpretation of those facts at all. Why would we want third party integration? What apps are we calling for? Give examples. Would that aid ad-blocking? Search functions? In that case, wouldn't third-party integration be tackling the symptoms and not the cause? Shouldn't we work better ad-blocking and search functions into Tumblr at a base level?
And in school - even up to A Level - that's okay. You won't get top marks for that, because it's all too vague and too descriptive, but it's fine. School-level assignments tend to be more broad and less applied, too, which LLMs fare better with.
But in university, you start with descriptive facts, and then you are expected to analyse. If you cannot analyse, you run a very real risk of failing. Which means if you've spent your GCSEs and A Levels not bothering to learn those analytical skills and letting ChatGPT do the work for you, you are going to face an extremely uphill struggle when the expectations of study increase.
So, to round off, try not to get too discouraged. You know you aren't doing it, which means you are the one actually learning and developing and growing. Others will learn eventually, and probably more painfully. You do you!
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wonderlandwalker · 7 months
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One Day at a Time | Finnick Odair x Reader
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Previous Part / THG Masterlist / Inbox
Summary: a short collection of sweet moments shared between you and Finnick as you recover, reminding the both of you of the love you share
(part 4 of the remember series but could also be read on its own I think, you can find the other parts in my masterlist)
Content Warnings / Tags: Fluff, no use of y/n, mentions of punching, I really think that's it.
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: It's finally here! Sorry it took so long my only excuse is that I am an absolute mess of a human being which is a terrible one but oh well. This will be the final part of the series, hope the fluff makes up for all the heartbreak I've put you through <3
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It's been a week now, one week of blissful moments spend with Finnick while recovering from the attack within district 13. After all that had happened you were in need of some peace, and the universe granted it.
On the first day you were still in the hospital wing, an IV dripping steady fluids into your system. You woke up to Finnick sitting next to you, one of his hands holding onto yours while the other was holding up a book. It was one of your favourites, and you had been pestering him about reading it so you could talk about it with him, but he had always brushed you off, saying he'd get around to it eventually. It seems eventually finally came around. You coaxed him into getting in the bed with you, he was hesitant at first, not wanting to hurt you, but he wasn't above your charms either, your eyes pleading with him in a way he couldn't resist. He had settled in behind you, letting you lean against him, ignoring the dirty look the nurse gave you. You had asked him to read to you, and even though you already knew it by heart, his sweet voice added a whole new element to the story so beloved.
The second day was spent trying to convince the nurse to let you leave the hospital room, if only for a few hours, she didn't initially want to agree, but Finnick simply wouldn't drop the subject. So you walked together towards the dinner hall, feeling like little children sneaking out past the curfew.
Supper had already finished, but Finnick was friends with one of the cooks who let him into the kitchens. He told you to sit down on the table in the middle of the room and gave you a quick peck on the lips before moving over to the fridge. It was simple, it wasn't much, but it was perfect. He would let you taste the dish in-between steps, always forgetting one ingredient or another, but you didn't mind reminding him. At some point you could have sworn he was doing it on purpose, but maybe he was just too caught up in having you there with him again. You offered to help with meting the butter, dicing the vegetables, stirring the sauce, but each and every time he would insist you stayed right where you were, accentuated with a quick kiss, his hands on your face smearing flour all over your jaw, not that you minded. He claimed he was the better cook anyway, that you'd only hold him back, now that one you both knew was a lie, but it was a precious one, one that didn't need to be disturbed.
Day three consisted of a slow day back in your room, having been cleared by the doctor and finally being in your own space again. You and Finnick hadn't shared a room in a while now with everything that had gone down, but you had immediately decided to spend your nights together again, not wanting to spend more time apart than necessary. You hadn't fully recovered yet, still needing your rest, but Finnick had set his mind on moving your things back into his room today.
So there you were, sitting crossed legged on his bed absentmindedly sipping on some coffee he had brought you as you watched him bustle about. He was only gone a few minutes at a time, but you never failed to produce a smile when you saw him approaching again, hands full with some of your books, the collection of flowers he had given you over the years that you had dried and pressed in-between the pages were sticking out slightly, but he handled them with care. Even while you weren't together you couldn't find it ins yourself to get rid of them, and you're glad of it now. He goes back and forth for a while, collecting your pillow, your skin care products, your small radio that barely managed to get a reception down here, but you couldn't bare to part with. Each time he'd ask you where you wanted him to put it down, carefully creating a space that consisted of the both of you.
On day four you had finally woken up in his arms again, wondering how you could have ever forgotten this feeling. When he noticed you were awake he had moved to place a delicate kiss on your lips, basking in the simplicity of the fact that he could. He had told you he had a surprise for you today, and you couldn't help how giddy you already got from the mere thought of what it could be. But it was oh so much better than you could have imagined, because today Finnick took you to the surface. How he managed to get you past all the checkpoints was beyond you, and when you asked he had simply said he had friends in all the right places.
It was a bit of a walk to the spot he wanted to take you, but you revelled in the sunlight against your face, needing to squint your eyes to see properly with how bright the sun was but too blissed to care. The high grass rustled against your bare legs as you continued to walk, and the tickling sensation brought back so many fond memories. When you finally made it to the clearing it was a sight from a dream. The tree next to the lake provided a shadow you could both comfortably lay in as the smell of the fresh water blessed your senses once more. The wildflowers adorning the space around you were once you could recall from back home, with a few others you couldn't identify. Finnick had picked a few, placing them behind your ear as he talked about what the flower meant. A myosotis, he had called it, representing true love and dedication. He told you about the myth behind the forget-me-nots, how they had been afraid of being forgotten by the gods, and you had vowed in return to never spend a day without thinking of him again.
During the fifth day you didn't do much of anything special, but you supposed that depends on your definition of the word. Finnick had made dandelion tea from flowers he had collected yesterday, the familiar taste bringing back a sense of nostalgia for a time that you wouldn't be able to return to. You had once told him your mother used to make it when you were sick, and ever since he would go collect them by the cliffs for you. You had insisted it was too much work that he didn't need to worry himself with, he had countered that he enjoyed the view where they grew anyway, and really, he was going for himself as much as for you. Maybe he had simply been trying to get you to stop fussing over the subject, maybe it had really been true.
You spend the day talking to your friends, reminiscing in regained memories and filling in gaps that you couldn't on your own. As you sat next to Johanna she talked on about the days Finnick spent longing after you, claiming he was alright wirh being just friends, but she was convinced that if any of her friends looked at her the way he looked at you she would have suckerpunched them.
On the sixth day you had begged Finnick train with you, saying how you wanted to get your strength back, how you missed the exercise and the content feeling of aching muscles. He had been reluctant, of course he had been, but once you had managed to drag him onto the training mat he revelled in it. He couldn't deny he had missed sparring with you, the action so effortless with you. He had made fun of how you threw your punches, saying you had to extent your arms further to complete the motion, but he was the one not protection his core properly while fixating on you. It had been good to feel your body in motion again, he was still stronger than you, knocking the breath out of your lungs once be stopped holding back, but you were still faster, getting the drop on him in the split seconds he was distracted. The manner in which your muscle memory still held up, the way in which you still used the same techniques without meaning to, it was good to know there are some things people can't take from you.
The seventh day you picked your routine back up. Waking up to an empty bed but not lonely, his side was still warm as you rolled over. Once you opened your eyes you saw the cup of coffee and the note on the bedside table. Finnick knew you never slept for long after he left, somehow he still knew. He had been given some time off during your recovery, but district 13 didn't stand still and they had needed his help. You weren't expected back yet, but the sense of purpose was one that you were always glad to have. You drank the coffee he left you as you got dressed, smiling as he had made it exactly to your liking, even if he used to complain you couldn't even call it coffee anymore with that much sugar in it. And so you went back to work, moving to scribble a quick message on the back of the note if he came back looking for you, not that he needed it, somehow he would always know where you were.
In the past week you had learned that a love as great as the one you shared with Finnick could never be forgotten, not really, because no matter how many memories faded, there would always come new ones. And soon, even though you didn't know it yet, Finnick would give you his mother's ring once more, and this time you would remember everything that led you here, and you would remember saying yes.
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strawberryya · 1 year
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ghost in the machine
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s.coups x reader
synopsis: Secrets can only be kept as secrets for so long, everyone knows this. Yet when 5.C0UP5 came in contact with someone he never should have even known existed this notion seemed as foreign as his own name. Perhaps there exists another way of life even for him, or maybe it was all a dream too big to dream of. 
word count: 20k
genre/contains: sci-fi au, AI-idol au, automaton!seungcheol, angst, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, found family, afab and gn!reader, general smut warnings for oral and penetrative sex, nothing kinky except being eaten out while talking on the intercoms and some almost being caught moments, big fight
rating: 18+
a/n: this has taken a long time to finish, but it also turned out to be my longest fic to date and I'm a bit proud that i managed to actually complete what i had in mind :> thank you @idyllic-ghost for proof reading and for the banner !!
collab link to read the other amazing fics from @idyllic-ghosts genius collab!
Network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main
[navigation post!]
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“100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming to our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”
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Pride. It was one side of 5.C0UP5 state of mind, and he felt it often. He felt it whenever he looked at his members, he felt it whenever he performed on stage in front of blinding lights and roaring crowds, and he felt it when he looked at you.
Yet, the other side of the coin of his pre-programmed personality was what crushed him every single day. Everything he took pride in having accomplished, was completely tarnished by a single thought about your lips on his skin. The shame was unbearable. 
You had never been meant to get close to him, he was not supposed to be close to anyone. He knew this better than anyone. As the leader of 53V3NT33N he was the one to keep everyone in check. He was meant to set a good example and be the perfect level 1 automaton at all times. For years he kept his promise to everyone, he continued to avoid all things that could ruin his reputation and go against his lifelong contract which he had become bound to the moment he had been created. It hadn’t been easy, but he had taken pride in being the perfect and flawless leader for his members. 
That guilty feeling in his gut came back once again as he left the dorm with his manager. “Lookin’ good,” he heard the voice of one of his members play in his ear. J30NGHΛN stood, next to some of his staff members across the lobby, curiously looking at 5.C0UP5. “Going somewhere fun today?” he said and pushed the communication device on his chest, letting 5.C0UP5 hear his every word. 
“You’re too curious J30NGHΛN,” he said with a smile, “We’re just gonna get some pictures at a café for this week’s posts.” It was one of the few things he did a couple of times a year, even under the strict surveillance of his company and its staff. No matter what, he had to sell the fantasy of himself to millions of people all around the universe. 
“Oh, I see… have fun,” J30NGHΛN said with a tone that made 5.C0UP5 feel his fingers, the chirping sound of his voice making him conscious of his own existence in a way he despised. the damn wink didn’t help. It was as if he knew something. Maybe everyone knew? 5.C0UP5 shook his head and began walking towards the exit along with his manager. He felt his members’ curious gaze following him as he left. Maybe the secrets were beginning to take their toll on his mind. He knew he was supposed to keep his emotions in check, the overpowering of one of his programmed human states of mind would be his demise. They had told him that much. Yet again, he told himself the same words he had spent so many days and nights telling himself. Nobody knows. 
Luckily, the café that had been chosen for today was only a couple blocks away. The cold sweat that ran down his back went unnoticed by the staff accompanying him in the shuttle used by the members whenever they needed to go to filming locations and individual shoots.  
“Let’s order some smaller stuff and get the shoot over with, we don’t have all day,” one of the managers announced, making 5.C0UP5 nod with a forced smile before he went back to looking out the window. His hand fell to his side, feeling the hard outline of his phone in his pocket. 
Entrusted to him by the company, he had been allowed to have a small flip phone. It was ancient. They used to have them in the old world, but even by the start of “The Great Journey” the technology was seen as outdated. By the current standards, however, the phone he had been granted was not worth much more than the shoelace on his sneakers. To him though, it was priceless. 
He was nervous now, his hands felt clammy, and his shoulders were tense as he walked into the café along with the staff members. One of them hurried off to the counter and placed your orders while 5.C0UP5 and two others made their way towards the corner table. The young couple currently sitting at the table were quickly removed by the staff members. It was routine, nothing more than a sentence informing the couple of why they needed to get up was given before they were chased off by the staff members threatening presence. 
He would never get used to that, the way others were treated around him as he stood by, powerless to intervene. Every time he felt ashamed of being the reason the rest of the population had to accommodate whatever his company, his owners, deemed profitable. It didn’t matter if it was evacuating an entire city block to film a music video where the buildings crumbled around the members, or something as insignificant as taking over a table at a popular café. The guilt was always there. 
The young couple hastily gathered their belongings and one of the waiters came over and cleaned up the table, apologies for the mess constantly pouring from their lips. Level 3 automatons could get fired for something like this, but at the same time, 5.C0UP5 couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy as he watched the worker get back to his place behind the counter. Maybe life would be better if he too was a lower-level automaton, he found himself thinking as he sat down and was served the beverage and piece of dessert that the staff had ordered for him. He would be freer in a way…
“5.C0UP5, let’s go.” 
He picked up the drink in his hand, the cold from the iced drink bringing his mind away from his thoughts and back into reality where a staff member had just fixed the collar of his shirt and fixed his hair which had been ruffled by the wind. “Look over there,” the staff said as another one snapped hundreds of pictures as he moved around on his chair. The rehearsed smiles, the sip of the drink, and the way he leaned toward the camera all satisfied the staff it seemed. He was good at his job, and acting like a down-to-earth boyfriend at a café was just another part of his job. 
What wasn’t part of his job, however, was when he felt a buzz in his pocket and without a second thought spilled half his drink across his thighs, the fabric covering his knees now the color of his drink. “Oh!” he shouted, “I’m sorry. I’ll go clean up real fast and we can continue like nothing happened, I’m so sorry, I’ll fix it!” he hurried to say before any of the staff members could even comprehend the situation he had just created. Hastily, 5.C0UP5 rose from the chair and left his staff confused and shocked at the table. ���Fuck- someone go watch the door, no one else can be in there at the same time he is.” he heard them say behind his back as he hurried off towards the door to the bathroom. 
There were multiple doors inside the bathroom, each leading to a small bathroom. He didn’t know where to go, he didn’t know where he was supposed to be. He didn’t need to look very far because as he approached the second door to the right it opened for only a moment and a hand pulled him forcefully through the opening. “Finally,” a person said with a smile before they kissed him passionately in the low light of the lightbulb attached to the dark mosaic tiles above the sink. 5.C0UP5 entire body heated up from within as his lips pressed against those familiar soft lips he knew belonged to you. 
He had dreamed of those very lips every night since he first got to kiss them all those months ago. “Hi,” he whispered and let the corners of his mouth turn up in the most genuine smile he had had all day. 
“Hi…” you answered and giggled softly, feeling his warm hands on your cheeks as he held you and kissed you once again, softly and as if to make you feel how much he had missed you as he held your lips locked against his. 
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“Are you meeting up with that secret fuck buddy of yours?” Lana joked as you scrambled to grab your phone and keys on your way out for lunch break. 
The office supply store was empty at this hour, and you had thirty minutes until you had to be back again; the perfect amount of time for a quick meetup with Cheol. You had to be back in time to release Lana, your co-worker, and close friend, from her shift and let her take her own lunch break since your boss had deemed it necessary to have the store manned at all hours of the day. 
Or, well, 5.C0UP5 if you were fussy about things like that. That was his real name, his legal name. To you, however, he was Seungcheol. It had been months since you had called the wrong number in your hurry to order a pizza after work, starving and sleep-deprived as you were at the time you hadn’t been looking too closely at the numbers you were putting into the keypad on your phone. Luckily for you, the craving for pizza that night had led you to discover something new that you soon began craving much more and much more often - him. 
His enchanting voice had caught you off guard that first night, and his confused and cautious “Who is this?” had, incredibly enough, been the starting point of you two talking every chance you got since then. Late nights chatting away on, what you have to admit were very sketchy websites, and the occasional call which was made with hushed voices and both of your hearts pounding away, had been most of your relationship. It sometimes felt like an imaginary relationship, since no one could know who he was, and even more importantly -  know who you were to him. 
“He’s not my fuck buddy, he’s…” you retorted. 
“See, do you even know what he thinks you two are? You won’t even show me any pictures of him, is he super ugly or something?” Lana shouted as you hurried towards the back door. 
“Shut up! I’ll see you later!” you yelled and the door slammed shut behind you. The back alley was filled with trash and scrap metal. The teenage boy from the large family who lived atop the store was smoking as he kicked bolts around on the ground. He looked up as you passed, and an uncomfortable feeling in your gut appeared as you felt him watch you while you exited the back alley and went onto the bustling street. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you fished it up. 
Unknown. 12.31.
“I’ll be there in 10, leaving now.” 
It was from Cheol. You wouldn't be getting any more updates from him until tonight, at least he had confirmed that he would be coming. Quickly you deleted the text from your phone and put the phone back into your pocket as a strange sense of being watched made the skin on your neck prickle. You looked around, moving your shoulders as if to shake the feeling away. 
You hurried away and towards the café, the uncomfortable feeling still haunting you as you entered the café and headed straight to the restroom. 
Would he come this time?
You could never be certain. He always did his best to keep his promises, but if the circumstances wouldn’t allow him to leave the group of managers that always circled him whenever he stepped outside the shiny company doors, keeping you a secret was more important. It didn’t hurt any less whenever he stood you up though. 
Knowing that his reasons for acting as he did were because of his status as a level 1 automaton had shaken you to the core at first, but it had also been a relief. He had told you who he was after a couple of weeks when you had become convinced you had accidentally begun an affair with a married man, he had been forced to confess his real identity. At least you weren’t a home wrecker, was the thought that helped you reconcile with the fact that he would never be free to live a normal life with you. 
Now you were seated on the toilet seat cover, your ear pressed to the door, your hand on the handle ready to pull it open. Time moved slower than usual, but your heartbeat was racing along with your mind. 
Then you heard him, it was undeniably his voice that made its way past the music, chatting, and the coffee machines. He was coming to you. You could barely hear when he opened the first door into the restrooms over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. Without a second thought, you opened the door enough to register the man you had thought about all too often lately and pulled him by the arm inside the small bathroom you had occupied. His biceps tensed as you pulled him and your body lit on fire because of it. God, he was so wonderfully big. Everything from his biceps to his cock was just so perfectly huge, and you went mad any time you thought about it. You kissed him in a passionate kiss, pressing your entire body against his. You fit so well together, his hands on your face and yours wrapped around his body. 
You wanted more, you wanted all of him, all the time. You wanted to cry because you knew you couldn't have him. With tears pricking your eyes you let Seungcheol pull back to look into your eyes. 
“Hi,” he whispered and smiled. You said hi back softly before the excitement and the giggles overtook your lips. You kissed him again, this time he saw to it that it was a soft and gentle kiss. A small wince left your throat, making Seungcheol quickly turn on the faucet, hoping it would drown out any noises. “Sorry,” you mumbled against his plush lips. 
“Don’t worry, it’s partially my fault,” he said pridefully. 
You were about to laugh, but instead, you pushed up his shirt, exposing his perfectly sculpted upper body to your touch. “Fuck you,” you said under your breath. 
“‘Fuck me please’ is what you meant, yeah?” he cockily corrected you without missing a beat, flipping you both so you stood with your back against the wall he had been facing away from. You gasped as he lifted you off the ground with the wall helping to pin you between his stiff cock and the cold and hard wall. 
He was right, even though you hadn’t allowed yourself to get your hopes up, you had been feeling unusually needy lately. The thoughts of him filling you up in any way constantly on your mind, you were already turned on as you entered the café with the small promise of him setting foot in there to meet you later. 
“Please, fuck me,” you gasped out, feeling your arousal soak your underwear at the thought of his girthy cock inside of you. “I need you to be quiet,” he mumbled against your lips. 
At this, you nodded fervently. Finally, you would feel him stretching you open again, bruising your insides with the force of his strokes like you had dreamt of after every single time you had managed to get together like this before. The moments were rare, but you made the most of the short time you had, to say the least. 
His tongue quickly found yours as he ground you on his erection, eliciting a low moan and making you open your mouth for him to enter. Warm hands wandered your body, his gentle touch making you swoon as he held you with so much love, while the promise of him fucking you like the slut you were hung in the air. 
A knock on the door, and both of you froze up, his bulge pressing right on your clit making it unbearable not to move. You winced only slightly as Seungcheol’s lips left yours, deciding to put your now lonely lips to use, kissing down his jaw and neck with soft little pecks and nibbles. “What?” Seungcheol asked over the sound of the water running, his tone a bit more agitated than he had intended. Not that he was at fault, he had a soaking cunt begging to be fucked right above his cock, and lips that made him go insane on his neck; someone disturbing him right now was not what he needed. 
“How much longer do you need? We don’t have all day to wait around for a pair of pants to dry up.” the staff member on the other side of the door said, earning a sigh from Seungcheol. 
After a moment of silence, he groaned and shouted towards the locked door. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I’ll be right out.” 
No, you thought, your limbs holding onto the man who you had just only gotten a taste of even harder than before. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 
“I need you to be patient for me until next time, can you be good for me and wait?” he mumbled against your hair, your lips still attached to the skin right below Seungcheol’s collar. “Yes,” you said against his neck, letting go of his skin in favor of burying your face in the warmth of his chest. He put you down on the floor, his arms releasing the back of your thighs and instead wrapping around your body. For just a moment he held you close until the buzzing of the dryer died out and he loosened his hold on you. 
You pressed your body against the wall as Seungcheol unlocked the door and disappeared through it just as quickly as he had been pulled in through it. 
“Sorry, it didn’t come off.” you heard him say through the doors. 
“We can’t get the shots if you’re all messed up like this, let’s tell the crew that we’re going back instead. Come on 5.C0UP5.” The staff member who had been just a few steps away from you two while they waited outside the restroom door responded as the voices got fainter and blended into the sounds of the café. 
You sat in silence with your hand on the door handle as his voice disappeared completely. In the beginning, you had enjoyed the thrill and noncommitment of him not being able to be there to be an actual boyfriend because of his work and position in life, you recalled as you felt all the emotions in your body dissolve into nothing. 
A small pain in your chest was the only thing left. The late-night thoughts you whispered in the dark, and the messages you had sent each other that contained your deepest yearnings and your worst fears. They had gotten to you, and it didn’t help that whenever you got a taste of having him physically there with you, you rarely- never- wanted to let go. But you always had to. 
“Enough wallowing, this isn’t changing anything,” you mumbled as you wiped your face from the wetness that had seeped from your eyes without you noticing. You needed to hurry back to relieve Lana from her shift you realized as you checked your watch, seeing that you were already supposed to be back at the store. 
You didn’t waste much more time after that, hastily making your way out of the bathroom, checking behind you as you left the café to make sure nobody had paid any attention to you. Like a punch in the gut, the feeling of being watched returned as your eyes landed on a dark-clad figure staring at you through the shop window. He had no reason to follow you with his gaze as you hurried across the street, away from the café, away from the gut-wrenching feeling that something was awry. 
He wasn’t looking at you, right? You were just getting too paranoid, that’s all, right? 
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5.C0UP5 had been daydreaming the entire way back to the company, his mind taking him back to the moments he could hold you in his arms. His body couldn’t ache for you, but his mind almost had him believing that he did. Some days, he almost believed himself to have a heart. A heart that broke each time he had to leave you behind. 
It wasn’t until he got back to the dorms where he got a glimpse of his members, and friends since he had been put into this world, that he finally felt himself come down back to reality. They were everywhere, some he saw in the lobby along with their hoards of staff members just like his own. Some were in the dorms, sleeping, or at least in a state of being that looked like sleeping as they charged. 
Others were nowhere to be found, not that he went looking. They could mind themselves, he knew they would never do anything to make him less proud of them. To 5.C0UP5, he was the bigger worry. 
He was just about to let himself rest and recharge, to try and forget the pain in the back of his mind, haunting him even as he saw his members wandering the dormitories and the company hallways. You were always in the back of his mind, no matter what he did to try and forget. Somehow, he had accidentally let you in, and now you were half his world. The hidden side of the moon, the side which should always remain in darkness, no matter how closely you look. 
A staff member who had left him just minutes ago as they entered the guarded company building came back, not even bothering to knock before they entered the room in which 5.C0UP5 sat on his bed. “5.C0UP5, you need to follow me, the CEO has something to talk to you about.” 
It had happened before, he met with the CEO every once in a while. After all, he was the spokesperson for the group, even if they didn’t have many (any) rights, they still needed to have someone to be their voice. This time, however, the meeting wasn’t scheduled. The CEO wanted to have an impromptu meeting with him… his hand unconsciously fell against his left side pocket, worry filling his mind even though he tried to make sense of why he had been called in to talk to the management. 
Even as he entered the large office of the CEO he had been in more times than he could count, something felt off. People he had never met sat in chairs all around the walls. Guards stood at the door, looking more tense than he had ever seen them before, and the CEO himself had the strangest expression he had ever worn. 5.C0UP5 waited until he was spoken to, as he had been instructed so many times before. Honoring the one who made sure he had the comfortable life he currently had was something he had been taught from the very first day he had opened his eyes. 
“Hello 5.C0UP5.” the suit-clad man in the dark chair said. He spoke calmly, but not kindly. 5.C0UP5 picked up on his tone immediately. 
“Hello, Sir,” he answered and bowed his head ever so slightly, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him. The room was dark, but the photos splayed out on the desk in front of the CEO finally caught 5.C0UP5’s eye. He could recognize them even at this distance and brightness. His head worked ceaselessly to find the moment it had begun, the moment they had found out. Because in front of the CEO, he could spot hundreds of pictures of the one person he wished they would never even see: you. 
All that went through 5.C0UP5’s mind when he realized what had finally happened was fuck.
“I understand that you have been seeing this human for a while… did you think we wouldn’t find out?” the CEO said, almost laughing at him as he sat in his chair looking over the pictures, each one containing your face, at work, at the café from earlier that day, at home. They had you right under their nail, ready to remove you from the planet at any second. He wanted to scream. 
The CEO cleared his throat before he threw the photo he held in his hand on the glass desk in front of him. “Now, unless you want us to eliminate this problem of yours, you will be rebooted first thing tomorrow.” 
5.C0UP5 knew he wasn’t supposed to protest, he wasn’t even supposed to think anything other than “Yes, Sir,” but before he could stop himself he spoke his mind. 
“Please, no… Why would you do that? It doesn’t make any sense. If I’m found breaking the rules, I’m to be demoted, not- not this!”
“Seventeen is currently the galaxy’s top band 5.C0UP5, and you are their leader, you have an image to uphold. And since you failed at doing this, we want to reboot your system, that way you will be able to stay and your group members' reputations won’t be tarnished, and most importantly. This little issue will be resolved because you won’t even remember this little human.”
The CEO wasn’t smiling as he had thought before, the CEO had never once smiled. His eyes were dead, nothing more than a ghost of a human left inside of him. At least 5.C0UP5 felt something, at least he could smile, at least he could love…
He could love. He had felt it. So why was he about to get punished for something his management swore he couldn’t feel? Hoped he couldn’t, might be more accurate, 5.C0UP5 realized. 
“How did you know?” he asked, the glare he received was enough that the management had begun running out of patience for him already. 
“Does it matter? We know everything about you.” the CEO answered curtly. 
Just like that the pieces fell into place, they had known all along. He felt the piece of metal that clung to his chest like a stone, stuck in his body and destroying him from within. They had known all along… The upcoming release of their new comeback was what they were worried about, he soon realized. They had hoped he would stop of his own free will, after all, he had the personality trait of shame. He should’ve already ended whatever he had with you. 
However, he hadn’t. And now it would become an issue if they didn’t handle it quickly and quietly. 
Despite that, the thought that overpowered all others at that moment wasn’t about how small he felt as he realized the true power the company had over him, or how much he loathed the people who thought they had a right to control him. He could love. That was the loudest, and he wanted to scream it, make everyone hear him just this once. It made him proud, he could do something this human was incapable of, and now they wanted to take that away from him. No. There was no way he was going to let them do that to him as well. He clenched his fist at his side, should he fight? 
“You can return to your rooms, they will come to get you soon,” the CEO declared and pushed the photos on his desk off the table, straight into the trash can underneath. 5.C0UP5 fists relaxed a bit, a new plan forming as he turned to leave the room with the stern guards following along. “Oh,” he heard the CEO say, “and leave the phone, you are no longer trusted to keep it with you even in case of emergencies. I hope you understand… you won’t need to understand in a bit.” 
His jaw was frozen in place as he took the phone from his pocket and threw it towards the CEO. The guards jumped forward to grab his arms as the phone crashed into the table and tipped over a cup of metal pens that scattered all across the floor. “Leave us,” said the CEO without even flinching. 
5.C0UP5 didn’t feel any shame as he was dragged out from the dark office, suit-clad strangers watching him with cold eyes as the doors slammed shut behind him. He was dragged until they were in the hallway where the crossroad between freedom and forever forgetting you were. “I can walk by myself,” he said with a growl he had never heard in his voice before. The guards let him stand alone, watchful eyes on him as they began walking again, one in front of him and one behind him now. It’s now or never, he thought, taking the shot as he saw it arise in front of him. 
His mind barely registered the hands that tried to grab onto him, all his focus lay on the doors in the lobby and on getting there. He ran with all his might until he crashed into the doors that were too slow to open. The crack widened and he pushed himself out of the glass doors that opened just in time for him to keep staying ahead of the guards. Bright lights in all the colors of the rainbow lit up before him as he began running down the crowded streets. His eyes watered because of the wind, and the lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of light. 
His body was designed to be agile and strong, he was designed to keep moving. Right now that felt like the biggest blessing he had ever received in his cursed life. 
From the back of his mind, two things arose. The first was your apartment, he had only heard about it, you had described exactly how to get there in one of the late-night calls you had whispered to each other weeks ago. The second was those twelve faces which were all he had known for so long; his members would be left to deal with it all when he was gone. He knew them so well, and yet, none of them had even had a chance to become someone to get to know. He wanted to give them a chance. As he ran he shouted out the word “Run!”, pressed that button he had used so many times before in the middle of the device connected to his chest, and began tearing the peace of metal from his body. It took him a few tries before he managed to rip the entire thing off of his skin. It hurt more than he had imagined, the pain was brain-numbing and overwhelming. He almost had to stop, the pain making it hard to focus on making his legs move forward. 
Nevertheless, he was free, the tracker was gone from his body, and with it was his only connection to the only family he had ever known. 
He ran, and he didn’t stop running until he arrived at your apartment. They would know he was here, they knew everything. He needed to be quick. He ran up the stairs to your apartment, knocking aggressively on your door, shouting as loudly as he dared for you to open the door. It wasn’t long until the door swung open and he was close to tears as he saw your very shocked face looking back at his panicked state. The thing you had imagined, but since you had found out his true identity, always known would never happen, had happened. 5.C0UP5 was tired, but he needed to get away, and he wanted you to come with him. 
“We need to leave, they’re coming for me. Please come with me,” he pleaded, his eyes begging you as his hands held your arms desperately. 
“What did you do?” you said breathlessly. 
“They were going to make me forget, make you… erase the issue… I couldn’t let them take this away from me too.”
You were speechless. “You ran.” He nodded. You didn’t even bother to say a word as you ran into your apartment, leaving 5.C0UP5 at the door. He had no idea if you were trying to find somewhere to hide or looking for something as he heard crashes and your voice shouting curses from further inside your small place. He needed to get out of there, but maybe… holding out hope was worthwhile it turned out. Minutes later, which felt like hours for 5.C0UP5, you reappeared at the door, backpack in hand and sweat gracing your hairline. You were running with him. 
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It wasn’t a hard decision, you weren’t close to your parents, and Lana would understand eventually… at least you hoped your coworker, and only close friend at this moment of your life, would understand if you ever survived to tell her and apologize for leaving without a word. 
A small pain stabbed at your heart, leaving everything for an automaton on the run. Everything you had ever known for this man… It felt insane at the moment, and it felt even more insane as you felt Cheol squeeze your hand which you had been holding since you took it, and began running towards the docks. You sat in the cold of the night on a hard bench next to Cheol. In a bit, a ship would arrive. Crowded places felt like a good idea at first, but now, the paranoia set in. Was that old man over there looking a bit too long at Cheol? Didn’t those surveillance cameras follow them as they walked onto the docks? 
The hand in yours pressed gently against your skin, helping you stay at least a bit sane as the weight of what you were doing was already beginning to tug at your strength. You thought it best to focus on the plan instead. 
“Let’s get on this ship, hop off at the airport, and get on another ship there. That way we can get off this planet because the sooner the better right?”
“Yeah, but don’t you think they will be looking for me at all the docks and airports?” Cheol said quietly. 
He was right of course, they would be looking for the escaped automaton at all the exits of this world they could think of. 
“Maybe if we…” You tried, but you didn’t know how you would get away if his company's staff members were to hunt them down anywhere on the planet. “Damn. Do you know that it’s incredibly difficult to go on a trip with you?” you deadpanned. The moment was horrible, but also perfect. It made Cheol smile, something you hadn’t seen the entire way from the moment you opened the door until now. 
It helped keep your mind off of the horrible situation and the impending doom. 
“It is,” he chuckled, “I never thought it would become an issue though.”
“But here we are,” you said and sighed. Cheol leaned against you, his large arm pushing against your side, making a smile split across your face. 
“I don’t think we should get on one of the commercial airlines… we need something more private,” Cheol mumbled.
“How would we get a hold of a ship of our own? We don’t have the money for that…” 
“We’ll figure it out…” 
“We have a lot to figure out from now on, Cheol,” you said and let your head fall against his shoulder, resting your heavy mind on his strong frame. He hummed, the sound comforting you even while you thought about all the ways you could get killed while on the run. 
The submarine came soon enough, and you both got on without a hitch. If you were being followed, they weren’t coming out of the shadows just yet. The cold light from inside the ship lit up the dark water around the underwater tracks that held the boat in place as it brought commuters across the sea each day and night. Under the high waves had turned out to be much easier than above them, especially nowadays. The storms had become worse in the last couple of centuries. Every other day there was another tropical storm on the seas. A side-effect of the universes coming closer together was what the scientists had concluded when it first began happening hundreds of years ago after the end of The Great Journey. 
You looked out the blurry window into the empty waters. Cheol and you were sitting by the back of the ship, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. You had managed to throw a cap into your backpack, which now helped hide Cheol’s face from any surveillance cameras while you used the hood of your sweatshirt to somewhat hide your face. Being a petty thief seemed like the least of your current issues. 
Neither of you spoke the entire ride, only communicating and comforting each other through a hand in the other or on their thigh. If you weren’t panicking you would probably be craving his touch in other places. That would have to wait though. A safe place was probably the priority, you decided in the back of your mind. You noticed his other hand, the one which wasn’t holding onto you like his life depended on it, continued reaching towards his neck. He seemed to be in pain. Did he get hurt? You hadn't had the time to even think about asking him how he was feeling or if he had gotten hurt by the guards or even the staff. You made a mental note to ask him later, placing your head against the rest behind you instead of his shoulder. You didn’t want to cause any more pain by resting against him. 
It was getting rather late as you left the submarine station you had gotten off at. Your heart wasn’t calming down anytime soon, you weren’t equipped to handle this kind of stress. Day-to-day, normal life stress was enough, this was something else entirely. 
“I want to live out the rest of my life in a very peaceful manner, far away from all of this crap,” you whispered as you walked the short walk from the submarine station to the spaceport welcoming hall. You wanted to be on a warm couch, not thinking about how to run away without being arrested. Right now, the idea of a living room seemed too far out of reach. All around you were tiny shops, suitcases, and the cold and unnatural light that lit up the entire spaceport’s welcoming hall. Ships that were boarding sounded out through the air, the comfy couch was as far from reality as you could get. 
Cheol scoffed, “I agree, wholeheartedly. I am never running away again after this, it’s too much work.” 
You tried to hold your laugh in, “Yeah, too much sneaking around for my taste. Let’s just run away this once, and then stay put and become that old couple on the hill that no one dares to visit.” Cheol nodded. “I would do anything for that…” Suddenly you noticed a small melancholy feeling in his words. You were just about to ask what was on his mind when he stopped your walk into the large welcoming hall, ushering you both into a small tourist shop. All you saw were miniature Earths, mugs with stupid prints, and keychains with different tourist attractions. You did not like it. For a second you were worried that he wanted to do some last-minute shopping, but your worries changed as you saw his terrified face. He had seen someone he knew. 
“I’ve seen that woman over there by the kiosk before, she usually helps backstage at our concerts. Fuck, that means they really managed to send people out to the exits,” he grumbled. This was bad. You felt your blood rushing in your veins, panic filling your mind. Had you been alone, you would’ve been frozen right about now. 
“Let’s just go,” he whispered hurriedly, panic visible on his face. “The faster we’re out of here the better, right? Are you with me?” 
“Always. Let’s go,” you whispered, the reassurance being all Cheol needed to grab your hand in his even firmer than before and head right out of the welcoming hall and out the nearest exit leading to the departing spaceships. You were unbelievably lucky as you ended up in the middle of a large swarm of travelers who were just about to board the large ship. Most were workers it turned out, the ship being part commuting area and half cargo space. The both of you managed to sneak onto the ship along with the workers, keeping your heads down as you hoped to anything that would listen that you would be able to sneak onboard undetected. 
It was unplanned, you barely even knew where the ship was headed. It wasn’t until you heard the voice that called out that the ship heading to Specus would depart that you both realized where you were heading. Specus was the mining planet, all the minerals needed for this universe to continue expanding its empire, and for life to continue as it has been until now, were found on this planet. All the people on this ship were workers there, probably coming back from their biannual leave which was granted to all humans and other living beings working there. Automatons was not included in the group of people who got any leave. The laws were clear about that, automatons were not human and didn’t need any form of vacation. 
The laws were bullshit. 
“Specus… I mean it could be worse, right?” you whispered. Cheol nodded, caught up in his thoughts. “Should we look for somewhere else to hide until we’re there?” you asked, trying to catch his attention again. Once again he only nodded, his senses all focused on his surroundings, making sure you two weren’t being followed or watched as he pulled you away from the area with rows of seating for the workers traveling with the ship. You went past the cots, knowing there was no way you could manage to stay hidden the entire way if you tried to stay in there. Instead, you made your way to the lower parts of the deck, the part of the ship where travelers didn’t wander. Here, you would only find crew members, cleaners, servers, and mechanics. The hallways were darker here, the LED lights being used more sparsely on the lower decks. You had a hard time seeing in the low light, but Cheol had your hand in his, a relaxed feeling managing to find its way into your body despite the circumstances.  
You had only managed to get a little way past the third deck when you met another person for the first time since you had left the seating area. “Are you two lost?” the man asked, making you jump and making Cheol whirl around to where the sound was coming from. You hadn’t noticed him in the dark until he spoke. 
“No, we’re just… looking for the bathroom,” you stuttered out. 
It was the dumbest excuse in the book. You knew you didn’t have the man fooled when he began laughing. It was a wonderful laugh, high-pitched and genuine. The figure stepped out of the dark, revealing a handsome man, dressed in a simple gray overall. Over his breast pocket, it said maintenance. You felt yourself growing a bit anxious as to what the laughing man would do next. Would he turn you in? 
“No, but seriously, why are you all the way down here? You two certainly don’t look like the new hires we were supposed to get this week,” the man, who you realized was holding a mop which he was now leaning on, said with a curious tone as he scanned the both of you from head to toe. “You look like a fucking idol, you know. If I didn’t know better I would think you were on the run,” he said with a smirk. 
“I’m Cheol, this is Y/N,” Cheol said finally as he nodded his head in your direction. Even in this light, you could tell he was staring at the stranger with that intense gaze that could make anyone either break down or swoon. 
The maintenance man sighed, “Alright, I’m Wooyoung. Come with me,” he said without explanation.  You didn’t follow him right away. He looked back at you, the “Coming?” visible on his face. 
“Do we trust him?” you whispered to Cheol, who was still watching the man waiting for you. 
“I don’t know about trust, but honestly what choice do we have? It’s not like we can go anywhere now, and it’s a long journey to Specus…” 
You nodded, nervousness made your hand clammy in Cheol’s firm grip. 
This was a risk you needed to take. If he was going to turn you in, it was probably better to just get it over with. At least you wouldn’t have to starve or something if you were locked up until you got to Specus. 
He led you to the lower decks, and surprisingly began introducing you both as the new temps that would help around on your way to Specus. The other crew members nodded, a few glancing rather suspiciously at you both but accepting the half-truth that Wooyoung told them. They hadn’t heard anything about any new temps, but it was none of their business it seemed. Who, and why you were there to help around didn’t matter to them.
Wooyoung led you around the lower decks, being strangely chatty with you two. You hadn’t expected someone so friendly to simply appear in your lives just as you needed it. Was he somehow your savior or was he something entirely else? You hoped he was good news because the alternative was so much worse. 
“Okay, this guy is great, you’re gonna love him. He’s not… too talkative, but he’s very good!” Wooyoung said as he took you down a flight of very narrow stairs. 
“Good at what?” You asked, minding your step so you wouldn’t fall as you descended. Wooyoung didn’t answer, instead flinging a thick metal door open and skipping inside. 
“Sannie!” Wooyoung suddenly shouted as you and Cheol entered a room after him. The room was filled from floor to ceiling with electronics. Screws, bolts, and different tools were everywhere. It looked like a mix of a car workshop and a dentist. The second part was mainly because of the chair in the middle of the room. The only time you had seen one of those was when you had gone to the dentist. By a table, a man sat on a high stool, engrossed in whatever he was doing. A bright lamp shone down on, what looked to you like, a bunch of chords in different colors. 
“What Woo? Did you get hurt again? Or are you just here because you’re bored…” San said as he was turned away from the door where you and Cheol stood, unsure of what to say and do just as you had been for the past couple of minutes. Would this man scrutinize you and Cheol as well, like the other staff members Wooyoung had introduced you to?  It seemed you had managed to bump into the most friendly maintenance member on the entire crew, and you thanked the universe for that because it seemed as if he was the solution to a lot of your current issues. He seemed to know everyone on this ship, and you hoped the friendship between him and the others would somehow be your and Cheol’s way of being allowed into the crew. 
“No… or well, yes, I am always a bit bored when you’re not around,” Wooyoung chirped, “But I’m here to see what you can do for these two.” 
Wooyoung gestured towards the door, finally bringing the new strangers’ attention to where you and Cheol stood. “Well, I’ll be damned. You brought a level 1 down here along with a human?” San said and looked between you both and Wooyoung who smiled brightly at his friend. “Yup!” 
San nodded, “Well, I can guess what happened with you two since you’re here after all… Can you work?” he asked after a moment. You nodded. “Yes,” you heard Cheol say. 
“Great. I’m San, I’m the mechanic around here. Since I’m human, and apparently that means something even in space, these fuckers also put me in charge when we leave the dock. I’ll get you what you need, food for you,” he said and looked at you, he then turned to Cheol, “A charger for you, and enough work to make sure you sleep soundly when you get off your shifts,” San declared. 
“Yay!” Wooyoung shouted gleefully, his cheerful claps making you crack a smile - despite the situation you found yourselves in. 
Cheol wasn’t smiling, but he seemed more relaxed. “How did you know I was a level 1?” was all he asked. You hadn’t reflected on it, but it was strange that he had been able to realize the difference between Cheol and you so quickly. 
San smirked, “It’s my job to know. If I couldn’t tell the difference between you and one of the workers here, I’d really be in trouble as a mechanic.” He was about to return to the mess of chords on his desk, but he looked back at Cheol, pointing towards his neck. “Also, come back here tomorrow and I’ll get that fixed for you.” Cheol’s hand reached for his neck again, the pain from touching the place his tracker had been made him flinch in agony. His shirt had fallen a bit lower while you had wandered after Wooyoung, he had opened his jacket, and now you finally spotted the area he had been protecting this entire time. The piece of metal you had avoided in your secret rendezvous was gone. He had ripped it out, you shuddered at the thought of the strength it must’ve taken to rip something like that from your own skin. You squeezed his hand to comfort and distract him, you didn’t know what else to do. 
Wooyoung came towards you, happily walking away from San who was already immersed in his work, and made it clear that you were to follow him. 
“Thank you,” you said before you left, San looking over his shoulder to give you a small smile and a ‘no worries’ expression in return. But worry was exactly what you had begun feeling, more than anything else. 
You and Cheol got a gray overall each, both saying maintenance over the breast pocket and the back, just like the one Wooyoung was wearing. “Stay in here for tonight, and when I wake you I’ll let you know what you will be doing for the next couple of weeks,” Wooyoung explained, giving you a small room in a long hallway to stay in. Everything was in the same cool metallic shade, and you realized that all you had to sleep on tonight would be a lonely pillow and a blanket that looked like it had seen better days. 
“It’s not ideal…” you stated, looking around in the small space you had been assigned as your room. “But we can make it work, right?” 
“It could be a lot better,” Cheol nodded and looked at you. You had had an affair with a famous level 1 automaton, been found out by some really powerful people, threatened to be disposed of, illegally left Earth, and had just been offered safe passage to another planet by some unexpectedly friendly people. But the room was a bit small and dark. Cheol looked at you, a smile creeping onto his face. You began laughing at the absurdity, “We should probably be more grateful,” he gasped out between laughs. “But it’s so ugly!” You shouted, your laughs getting more and more manic. 
“This is probably the stupidest thing we have ever done,” you gasped out. 
Your eyes welled, which tears that were a result of your laughing, and which were your exhaustion finally setting in was impossible to tell. All your emotions just came out all at once. You were gasping for air, tears running down your cheeks, and all the weight of your decisions crashing right into you. 
“It was, but I can’t make myself regret anything,” Cheol said, emotion welling underneath his words. But he didn’t cry. Instead, he just held you. He let you cry your eyes out, staining his dark hoodie with your tears as you sobbed. 
“Did we make the right decision?” you whispered against his chest, strong arms holding you safe as you questioned what you had done. 
“I hope so,” you heard Cheol say, the sound of his voice echoing in his body. You fell asleep in his arms for the first time that day. Having him to yourself in this way was a privilege, you realized. It was a privilege you had lived without for your entire life. You didn’t even know that you had been missing out on it until you woke up the next day, your head in his lap and his hands holding the blanket to your waist. You looked up at his handsome face, wondering if he had been able to rest where he sat against the hard wall.
It didn’t take long until you had both caught on to what you needed to do around the ship. It turned out that Wooyoung was a great instructor. During your shifts you both ran around, cleaning, and helping the regular crew members when needed. Wooyoung quickly made sure you felt at least a bit more comfortable on the ship by giving you tours around the decks and introducing you to even more of the crew members. 
The best part, however, was when you, after an exhausting day working around the large ship, got to lay down in Cheol’s lap while he charged and slept for a few hours, just feeling the heat that his body generated as you let yourself be swept away from reality. The weeks passed, and you learned the routines of the ship rather quickly. 
You barely had any time to think, let alone feel, how physically and emotionally exhausted you were. Leaving everything on Earth and trying to survive day by day on this ship in the middle of the vast universe was more work than you had hoped when you impulsively decided to leave. Some days you managed to take a moment to yourself, stopping in the middle of your step, and just staring out the small windows on the sides of the ship. The space outside was both so full of life and so empty of anything at all that you found yourself floating away in your thoughts into nothingness for just a moment. 
After a few weeks of almost nothing but work and sleep, the crew began preparing for the landing. Soon you would be on Specus, with absolutely nothing planned for what was to come. This soon changed, however, as you sat down with San to eat dinner. Cheol sat next to you, not wanting to spend unnecessary time apart from you just because he didn’t need to consume any food. 
“But, like, did you like the dancing and all that?” Wooyoung asked, the conversation had ended up being about your professions. 
“I think I did, yeah,” Cheol answered honestly. 
“I always thought I’d be a pretty good idol. If I wasn’t designated my level, I would've given it a shot for sure!” Wooyoung said, “Or well, maybe not under your company… they don’t seem that great from what I’ve heard, with the whole rebooting thing and all… that…” he trailed off. You were all staring at him. The silence was deafening, none of you truly knew what Cheol had been through. He had told you bits and pieces, but not nearly enough to know how he’d react to this. 
San and Wooyoung had become your friends since you had been sharing your meals every day. Most of the time the conversations flowed naturally, and the topics ranged from everything from San’s latest way to fix up bolts that had begun unscrewing themselves to childhood memories. Wooyoung and Cheol had a hard time joining in on those conversations, but they shared their fair share of memories from when they first gained consciousness. 
It was strange to think about it in that way, your boyfriend never had a childhood. Well, you still didn’t have a name for what you two were, and calling him your boyfriend in your mind might be jumping to conclusions, you were simply on the run with each other and had a romantic and sexual relationship with one another, but boyfriend might be going too far- Nevertheless, he had been created just as he was right now. Out of all the parts about AI that you had grown up to accept, the no-childhood part was the one you never quite could get past. He had missed something that was so fundamental to you and all other people who had been born instead of created in a factory. It made you really think about the fact that someone had created him intentionally - not just anyone, but him. 
The silence was still pressing around you as you all waited to see how Cheol would react to Wooyoung’s lighthearted comment about the idol life. Your thoughts were wandering away from you, maybe in a way of escaping reality until Cheol saved the conversation. 
“I think you would've been a great performer. You have the right energy about you,” Cheol said with a straight face making Wooyoung crack a smile. 
You were happy that he seemed okay talking about his experiences. And you were equally happy that the mood hadn’t been completely ruined because of Wooyoung’s thoughtless comment. 
After some time, the conversations died out and San picked up a new one, asking something neither you nor Cheol had any good answers to: “What will you do next?” 
You looked at Cheol. He looked just as clueless as you felt. Neither of you had a plan. “They don’t have any clue,” Wooyoung pitched in with his laugh, that you would remember for the rest of your life. You looked down, nodding slightly. It was true. 
“Where do you want to go? You don’t have any idea of where you would like to be in the future?” San asked, surprised that you didn’t have at least the semblance of a plan. 
“I don’t know much about the universe… but I want to go somewhere safe. I want to spend my life where I won’t be found and won’t be constantly watched,” Cheol answered before looking at you, “…somewhere we can be alone.”
Your heart fluttered. You had forgotten that your life wasn’t just the endless days of work on the ship. It was beyond you how you could’ve forgotten it all so fast,  but the intense look filled with love and pain that Cheol gave you made all the feelings stir up once again. You wanted that too, you wanted a place where you two could just be together. 
You nodded, concurring with what Cheol had just said, “Is there somewhere like that? Where we can stay forever?” 
Wooyoung stayed quiet but San looked at the both of you, something in his eyes telling you both that he did have an answer to what you were asking him. “Lumen. That’s where you want to go.” 
“Lumen?” you asked, never having heard of the planet before. 
San hummed, “It’s right beside galaxy 428B. They say it’s the ‘utopia of the universe’, but very few have ever managed to get there and even fewer have managed to get there and back to tell the story of it.”
“Why is that?” you continued asking, your curiosity piqued. 
Lumen had been a planet much like Earth before the entire shift in the universe had happened. It was a sunny place, filled with forests and unexplored nature. There lived some type of people, San wasn’t sure what they were called. It was far away, and the solar systems that were close together had not deemed it worth the cost of travel to create a way to commute there. If you could get there, you wouldn’t have to worry about anything but creating a way of life, San told you. He had heard about the place from travelers he met in his childhood, people who had been on a journey of their own in search of a safe haven - much like you and Cheol. 
“All I know is that you need to travel as far north from our solarsystem as possible,” he said and went quiet. “I’ve never seen those people after they left in search of Lumen, I don’t know if they ever made it.”
Cheol was deep in thought next to you. Neither of you responded to what San had told you except for a short: “Thanks, I think we should head to bed.” But even as you rested your head against his shoulder that night waiting for the exhaustion to overtake you, not a word came from the man you had spent weeks chatting within just this position. 
If you were going to find out what he thought about your destination, you would need to take the initiative you thought that night.
 “I wanna go, do you?” Your words lingered in the dark room. Silence. Soon you almost began falling asleep, your brain coming to accept that you were probably not going to get an answer out of him tonight. Your body jerked as you heard his deep voice say: “I want to come with you.” Grabbing his hand you nodded sleepily against his shoulder. 
“I love you…” you mumbled before you dozed off, leaving Cheol alone and awake in the dark with your words ringing in his ears. 
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The next day Cheol still couldn’t get those three words out of his mind. Only for a moment did he think about trying to make up a plan for what you needed to do now that you had decided where you wanted to go. ‘I love you’… the thought of your sleepy voice whispering to him had him cleaning the same spot for at least twenty minutes.
You had said it first, but he didn’t even know if you meant it in the way he felt it. Did you just say it without thinking while half asleep? Were you thinking of someone else? What if you were mad that he hadn’t said it? 
He was freaking out, rubbing harder with the mop on the laminated floors. He was sure that he had messed it all up. Maybe you didn’t want to go anymore. What if you had just followed him thinking it would be a quick trip and ended up with more than you had bargained for? God, why hadn’t he said it back last night? He felt it, so why did he freeze when he heard those three damn words? 
He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, “Hey,” Wooyoung stood beside him, looking at the only wet spot on the ground around them. “How’s it going with the floor?” 
Cheol looked down, only now realizing how caught up in his head he had been. “Shit, I’m sorry man.”
“No worries. Something wrong?” Wooyoung said, his hand still on Cheol’s shoulder in a reassuring manner. 
He shook his head, “Just a lot on my mind…”
Wooyoung hummed, nodding understandingly. “Go talk to each other about whatever it is, don’t just stand here doing… I don’t even know what the hell you’re doing, to be honest.” 
Cheol looked at him. He was weirdly intuitive, Cheol thought as he looked at the crooked smile Wooyoung was flashing him. He nodded, “It’s ok for me to go?” 
“Dude, just go! I told you to do so, I decide who cleans the floors and you are definitely not helping me do it, so you’re off floor duty.”
Cheol let go of the mop, his legs quickly moving away from the upper decks and down to the lower ones, towards you. He quickly found you in the kitchen, removing plates from the large dishwasher as the servers stacked the hot plates in tall piles - it looked rather dangerous as he glanced at the piles that towered over him. “Cheol?” You blurted out, surprised to see him here when he wasn’t on duty in the kitchen that day. 
“Hi, I… I wanted to see you, and Wooyong he- he said I could go and I needed to…” he paused, he didn’t actually know what he wanted or what he needed. Or well, he did know, he just didn’t know how to make it happen. 
“Come on, let’s go talk then,” you simply responded, making Cheol look at you in awe. He wondered how it had been so easy for you to say what he had wanted to say all along. You on the other hand were wondering why Cheol stood entranced in the kitchen doorway looking at you as if the words ‘let’s talk’ had been revolutionary. 
“Coming?” 
Cheol nodded and followed you back to the small back room that had been yours for the past few weeks. It was dark, but there was enough light coming in from the hallway and the tiny lamp in the corner of the room to light up the piles of clothes in the other corner, the blanket he put over you every night, and the charger that was plugged into the wall next to where he slept with you in his lap. 
The door closed heavily behind him as you leaned against a wall, wondering what it was that he felt the need to talk about, was it Lumen? “Did you change your mind?” You asked hesitantly. 
“About what?” Cheol looked scared for some reason, you didn’t know why but it made your eyebrows knit together. 
“It’s not about Lumen?” 
“No, no I still wanna go to Lumen! It’s not about that… wait, do you… not want to anymore?” 
You shook your head, “That’s not it!” You hurried to assure him. “I just thought, since that was our last conversation… you know.”
Cheol swallowed, he just needed to say what he felt. 
That was easier said than done though. The words all got jumbled up in his brain, his thoughts making his throat go dry, he just wanted you to know without having to tell you. You couldn’t read his mind, but he wanted you to feel it. He wanted you to feel how much, how deeply he loved you. He took a step towards you, your arms wrapping around him without a second thought. You pulled him close, chuckling at the thought that he had just wanted some kisses. 
His lips pressed against yours and his tongue quickly made its way into your mouth, the movements from his touch making you dizzy and tingly all over. Want was already pooling in your lower stomach. Arousal seeped through your folds, you hadn’t felt Cheol’s touch or mouth on you in so long. It kickstarted your system and had you wet after just a couple of minutes of making out. 
“More please,” you mumbled against his lips. 
Cheol’s hand moved down from your waist, below the gray pants you were wearing today. His large fingers quickly found their way through your folds, your pussy now soaked and leaking as he slipped his hand against your clit. His breath was hot against your face as he let go of your lips so he could hear your whimpers as he circled your clit. 
It felt so good, his rough hands knew exactly what to do as they dipped into your cunt, only teasing you before he went back to press on your sensitive spot. 
You were spreading your legs further apart the longer he teased your clit, you wanted to be filled, you wanted him to push his digits further into your body, you wanted to feel him inside of you as you gushed around his fingers. When he did you moaned out his name, the tension from the past few weeks all dissolving as he fucked you on his fingers. 
A loud knock drew you both out of the moment, and an unsure voice came from behind the door. “Uhm, Cheol? I just wanted to tell you that you’re off for the rest of the day… I got both yours and y/ns shifts covered… so you could talk.”
Cheol cleared his throat, “Yeah, thanks Wooyoung!” he shouted back before pushing his fingers back deep inside your cunt. A moan escaped your lips as he hit the right spot within. 
Wooyoung went silent, “Okay fine! Later then!” 
Cheol didn’t bother to answer, and as Wooyoung left you could hear him talk to himself, “You do something nice for someone and all they do is wave you off so they can get their dick wet, assholes!” 
He would’ve done the same, but none of you would ever argue about it with him. You both laughed for just a second before Cheol kissed you gently yet again, making you forget everything about what had just happened. 
You soon came as he thrust his fingers deeper into you while the palm of his hand pressed on your entire pussy. It was heavenly, a white blur was all you could see, and relief swept through your body. Cheol kept you from falling onto the floor when he put down the leg he had helped hold up. You were holding onto his clothing with a firm grip as you came down from the first high you had felt in too long. Cheol was riding on a high of his own, not because he had been allowed to cum but because you had. He felt just as proud now as he did the first time he had managed to make you have an orgasm, and he let the words come as they wished, “I love you, more than anything in the universe.”
Your eyes fluttered open upon hearing those softly spoken words. The words that turned your world upside down, the words that terrified you, the words you had longed to hear. 
“I love you too,” you said, pressing your forehead against Cheols. 
“I know,” he chuckled.
“Wait what?” You said and pulled away your head to try and see his face, “How… oh!” 
Your hand flew to slap over your mouth as you remembered what you had been thinking last night, remembering how the words had sat right at the tip of your tongue before you let yourself fall asleep last night. “I said it out loud, didn’t I?”
Cheol nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. “I hope you meant it because you’re gonna have to spend the rest of eternity with me once we get to our paradise.” 
“Our paradise? You already think Lumen is ours?” You teased. 
“Of course, with my handsome face and your gorgeous everything, how could we not find ourselves in charge?” 
“You’re insane, and I meant it.”
His smile shone even in the darkness and it lit up your heart like the sky on New Year’s Eve. He held you that night just like all other nights, but your mind was calmer than most other ones. You were dragging your fingertips along Cheol’s chest, resting your chin on his pillowy arm. 
“You know what’s funny?” he suddenly asked. 
You looked at him curiously. “What?” 
“My entire life, the people around me tried to convince me that I didn’t have a will of my own - that I didn’t have my own needs that they couldn’t fulfill.”
“...that’s funny?” you asked, shocked at his apparent sense of humor.
Cheol laughed, “No, no, I mean, it’s not really funny… but it’s funny how, as I had begun believing this myself after years of having been told this, it all just collapsed in front of me the moment I picked up the phone and heard this stranger with the most endearing voice ever try to order a pizza from me.”
You stayed quiet, “...again, that’s what you find funny?? I think we need to work on your humor mister.” He laughed more, your giggles joining his after a moment. Living wasn’t easy, but at least he had joined yours, and it was beginning to transform. Nothing was as it had been, and even an unsure future on the run seemed better than the life you had been living so far. At least you had one another now. 
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Time moved too fast after that day, the goal of somehow going to Lumen with Cheol made the days on the ship with San and Wooyoung fly past you. Soon you were preparing to land on Specus. San had told you that you could stick with him for a few days before he got back on the ship to make the journey back to Earth. You both accepted, grateful that you didn’t have to figure out where to go by yourselves on this new planet. 
The day you stepped off the ship onto the giant spaceport on Specus you held onto Cheol’s hand, just as you had when you boarded it. Specus was an industrial planet, its main purpose was to mine minerals and metals from deep within the planet. It was visible the second you stepped off the ship that this planet wasn’t like Earth at all. Everything felt like it was a back alley, with pipes, and rust covering every building and vehicle you could see as you followed San through the rundown welcoming hall. There were no shops filled with books or souvenirs, only a ticket shop booth where a robotic arm was visible in the yellowish window. San led you through the hall, not looking at much and saying even less. It was colder here than on Earth. 
“Stop.” San said suddenly, “Look up.” 
Both you and Cheol let your eyes flash up, towards the ceiling, or at least towards what would’ve been the ceiling had there been one. Instead what you both saw was a dark violet sky, not the kind that you had both seen on Earth, but one that looked like it was exploding with tiny stars. “What is that?” You asked as you stood with your neck bent back completely so you could watch the stars moving around above you, faster than any stars you had ever seen before. 
“Specus spins faster.” San explained, “Somehow that ended up meaning it’s always this one color of blue in the sky and the light from the stars in our galaxies all blend to create this kaleidoscope of color and stars.”
“It’s pretty,” you said, tears almost forming in your eyes at your first sight of something other than metal and the darkness of space you had seen in months. You had missed looking up at the sky, you realized, even if it wasn’t the same sky that you had at home. 
Home, where was that? Earth wasn’t your home anymore. Did you not have one anymore? 
Cheol’s hand squeezed around yours and you abandoned the thoughts. They would only hurt you in the end, it was better to focus on the now.
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San got you all two rooms at a hostel, the only one on the entire planet it turned out. They didn’t get many visitors except for the few who worked on commuting ships like San, and now you two. It had been so long since you had slept in a real bed that you slept as long as you physically could bear before your stomach was growling at you to get breakfast. San had already retrieved some while Cheol stayed with you, refusing to leave you alone just yet. He didn’t trust the others in the hostel, it seemed, as he continued to be on guard as you both got ready to leave your hostel room. 
That day San took you both on a tour around the town, it was small but busy. Automatons, aliens, and a few humans were wandering around; on their way to work, on their way to their temporary homes, or on their errands for the day. In that sense, it didn’t feel like you were very far away from Earth. But as you glanced up at the violet kaleidoscope sky you were reminded of just how different it all was.  
As the days passed on Specus, you didn’t have a clue of what to do next or how to get to Lumen. San had done everything he could for the both of you, even teaching you some of the most basic routines for checking on Cheol’s health. It hadn’t been an issue you had spent a single thought on, his health being something you took for granted even now. San helped you realize that what you had gotten yourselves into was dangerous not just because of who was after you, but because of who you two were. You needed to know things in case Cheol couldn’t help with telling you what he needed, in case something bad happened. Nobody would be able to help once you were alone. You weren’t handling the realization well. 
Cheol was the one to let you forget about it after you had gotten yourself stressed about what could end up hurting him. He felt guilty about having you worrying about him, and honestly, a little pissed at San for frightening you so much. He knew you needed to learn though, and opted for being your comfort instead. 
He kissed you, gently and lovingly, and he held you close when you couldn’t let the thought of having to use the new skill San had taught you on the man you loved. Seeing the inside of someone in that way had become your new nightmare. Cheol held you each night, shushing you back to sleep if you ever woke up from it. 
Two weeks ended up passing by just like that, nightmares and lessons on Automaton autonomy. You wanted to get off of Specus by the beginning of the third week. It didn’t matter that San and Wooyoung had become your friends, you wanted to leave. The sky was still beautiful but everything around you reminded you of what San had taught you, and you couldn’t think anymore, you didn’t want to think anymore. 
“Let’s find a ship then,” Cheol simply said when you voiced how badly you wished to go somewhere else, to find your paradise sooner rather than later. 
You laughed a bit at that, “Do you really think it’ll be that easy?” 
“Of course, it’ll be easy!” He said with a casual shrug. You flashed him a smile in return for his suddenly carefree attitude. 
“I don’t believe you, but I say we give it a shot!” 
Before you left you said your goodbyes to San, just in case you ended up actually lucking out and finding a ship that was willing to take you both to Lumen. You hugged the mechanic who had helped you both so much during these months. Cheol did the same, with one small difference, he whispered something to San before he pulled away. Something that made San’s face go serious but he nodded in confirmation. What had he agreed on? What had Cheol told him? You tried asking him as you left towards the spaceport but he wouldn’t budge, telling you “You’ll notice if it worked later, I promise.”
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The hours passed, and any ship that looked decent had declined you. Every captain had a destination already and none of them had Lumen on the maps. 
You were tired and hungry. Cheol’s chipper attitude was long gone by now and you were both seemingly thinking about giving up for the day. 
“You know what, what if we just steal that ship? If we’re gonna be on one for months or even years we should have a proper one,” you joked and pointed at a large ship by the end of the docks. Cheol looked at the ship, it was larger than the ones you had been asking all day, but not even close to as large as a cargo ship. It was the perfect size for going on a long trip with a few people. 
“Alright,” Cheol said without a hint of sarcasm, which made you look at him surprised. 
“Wait what? You want to steal that ship for real?” You wheezed out. He nodded, a playful smile showing you that he meant to try. 
Fuck it, your mind decided - hunger and the need to leave Specus and all its minerals overtaking your rational mind. You boarded the ship, walking past any guards as if you owned the place. Nobody minded you two, the few people that far out the docks minding their own business. The ship was even more gorgeous inside, modern and so clean you were shocked at how long you had gone since you last saw a floor without mud or rust. 
You walked into the cockpit of the ship. If someone were to arrest you right now you were happy to at least have seen this ship before rotting away in Phylaca forever. The prison planet was the one place you never wanted to see even if you weren’t going there for imprisonment. But going to Lumen was all that mattered, so you would need to steal this ship. 
“I think this will do,” you said and smirked at Cheol. 
“What are you two doing here?” The voice made you both jump, and you both looked towards the exit. A man, rather large in his stature, stood confused and agitated in the doorway. He had just stepped inside the ship, the door behind him still wide open with the ramp that led to the dock right below him. You were in shock one minute and the next you began running. But you weren’t running away from the large man, you ran right towards him. A look of panic flashed across the man’s face and then your body slammed into his. You were sure you were going to fall with him, but you never did. A strong grip holding onto your waist. When you opened your eyes to see if you were dead you saw the man on the ground. He wasn’t moving. People around him looked up from their own business to look at what had happened. Cheol pulled you inside, closing the door as you stared out into the void in front of you. 
Had you killed that man? You ripped yourself from Cheol’s grip and looked out of the tiny window that faced the docks where more and more people were grouping around the man. Was he moving? You wanted to think he was moving. The people around him tried to lift his head, he was bleeding a little, but he was sitting, right? Your mind was a mess. You didn’t know if what you were seeing was real, or if it was your mind playing a terrible trick on you.
You gasped as you saw the docks moving. They were moving away from you just as the man seemed to turn and point at you. “He’s not dead! Cheol I’m not a murderer!!” You shouted.
But Cheol wasn’t there, he wasn’t where you had torn away from his grip anymore. He was by the cockpit, hands frantically trying everything he could to get the ship to do as he wished. The docks hadn’t moved, you realized, the ship had. 
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Cheol picked up how to steer the ship rather quickly, even understanding how to use the auto control so he could charge at the same time you slept instead of constantly doing shifts. You were happy about that since it meant you got to spend time together on the ship, your days becoming rather pleasant as you settled into a routine. There was plenty of fuel on the ship, both for the ship itself and for you and Cheol. Electricity was easy to come by and there was a rather large supply of food there as well. You had managed to snatch a ship that had just been restocked - it was hard to accept the amount of luck the two of you had been struck by. 
But the best part of the ship was the fact that nobody else was on it. For the first time in forever, you two were alone. Alone with a bed and each other. There was nothing else to do but to let Cheol fuck you in every way he, or you, wanted. And my god you wanted to - all the time. The day had only just begun on your second week on board the ship and you hadn't had the chance to get dressed yet, breakfast in bed having become the norm as you let the ship steer away from everything, hoping it would lead you to Lumen if you just kept the course San had told you about. You simply steered away from — and hoped for the best. After all, you had better things to do that occupied your mind at the moment. 
Cheol could taste the fruit you had just eaten for breakfast, you tasted like what he imagined summer would if he could consume it. In a way he was. He was drinking in the way you looked underneath him with his eyes, he was licking and kissing every inch of you that he saw, nibbling on your skin, making you moan and beg more and more for each day that he learned his way around your body. 
Never before had you been undisturbed like this for days on end. It was pure bliss. He found out each spot you liked to feel his lips on your skin, each spot where he could make you arch your back off the bed, and each spot on the ship where he could drill into your cunt until your legs gave out and your juices leaked out of you. You made a mess of the large bed that had been meant for someone a lot more powerful than the two of you, but none other than you two would’ve been able to use it to its fullest like you had been while alone on the ship. 
Cheol’s fingers smoothed over your thighs as his hot breath caused shivers to spread from your core, goosebumps prickling your skin in the air of the spaceship. You were grabbing fistfuls of his long hair, his gaze sultry and dripping with lust as his tongue flicked over your clit. He was burying his face in your puffy and glistening folds, reveling in your moans and how your entire body was writhing from his tongue exploring your wet pussy. 
You had been at it for a while, but neither of you were finished, orgasms were still left to be had before you would be able to sleep. 
The way he was making out with your cunt would soon send you over the edge if only the muffled sound of a voice hadn’t found its way through the corridors of the ship to pull you out of your pleasure. 
“What the fuck is that?” You groaned, pushing on Cheol’s head a little as if you would be able to hear the voice clearer the further Cheol was from your cunt. This was true, but not enough of a reason to give up on chasing your orgasm, according to Cheol since he simply attached his lips to you again. 
He hummed, meaning to get you to ignore whatever it was. The voice of a person, clearly in a rush, continued to echo in the large rooms from the cockpit. “Cheol I need to check on that. They sound worried, maybe they’re in danger.” 
“Fucking hell!” He groaned out as you pushed on him again. “How is it possible for us to get interrupted right now?! We’re in the middle of the freaking space for goodness sake!” Cheol shouted, his lips leaving your body and his hands stilled. 
“I’ll fix it. Gimme two seconds,” you said with a giggle. He had taken the words right out of your mouth, it was incredible how you could never have sex without someone interrupting you. 
You rushed to the cockpit, only managing to throw on a simple T-shirt. “Hello?” The voice came screeching out of the sound system in the cockpit. You had never used it before, but with a simple push of a button that blinked in a bright shade of red, you were able to answer the person on the other end. “Hello! Can we help you?” You asked in your friendliest tone. 
“Yes, hello, this is the spacecraft Marquise, 4210-CH378,” the voice stated, “We are on course for —- and have discovered your ship on our monitor. We are on a direct collision course with your ship if nothing is adjusted, and based on our estimation of your ship size we are afraid that any living beings on your ship will be crushed as a result of the impending collision.” 
You were speechless, “I’m sorry? We’re about to crash into you?! And die?!” You shouted the friendly tone you had tried to access now long gone in favor of your pure panicked state. 
“I’ll move our ship! Please don’t crush us!” You shouted as you pressed down on the button, hoping to the stars that your actions were the right ones to do at that moment as you simply smashed buttons at random on the control desk. Anything to make the ship away from the larger ship that was already visible in the far-off distance, a star that seemed to move twice as fast as any regular star could. 
You hadn’t noticed Cheol when he entered the cockpit, only noticing him when you felt a kiss on your shoulder, which then became a row of small warm kisses down your back. A small chuckle came from behind you as your body reacted to him, forgetting what you were doing. 
“If you intend to change the course of your ship, we would prefer it happen before you end up in front of us…” the person on the other side of the intercom reminded you. 
You had forgotten, pushing the red button once again, bending forward as you did, giving Cheol the perfect opportunity to push his face back against your still dripping pussy. 
“I’m so sOrry-” you winced, “I’m having some technical difficulti- ah!” 
“Do you need some assistance?” a voice crackled over the intercom. You needed to get the ship on another course or you would soon be nothing but a bug on the windshield of the much larger ship coming right towards you. Cheol’s tongue on your soaking cunt had you trembling where you stood, bent over the control panel, the ship in sight and your mind working against the impulse to give in to Cheol’s magic touch and ignore all your issues. 
You tried to momentarily pull away from his face, but he had you in his grip and you were too entranced by his grip to properly make the effort to get your heat away from his warm tongue. Instead, you pushed on the lever that you had seen Cheol use only once or twice, unsure of what it did but it was the best option. You pushed it as far as it went, and the ship began turning away from your intended course, and by extension, away from the collision course. 
“Thank you. We wish you good luck on your further travels,” the voice from the larger ship sounded through the intercom once again. “No problem, you too!” you managed to say before turning away from the control panel, Cheol’s grip on you only losing for a second as he took his mouth off of you, only to sit you down in the pilot’s seat. This time you weren’t focused on staying on the course however, instead the chair was turned away from the panels and the vast universes outside the ship, instead, you had a very cocky Seungcheol on his knees in front of you. Your cunt was on display and dripping as you awaited his touch yet again. 
“You seemed to be a little distracted just now,” he chuckled. You scowled, but not for long, your neediness taking control of you once again as you pushed Cheol’s face back to your arousal, which he lapped up with fervor, the stress of the moment gone just as it had come, the incident being largely forgotten by the both of you afterward. 
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This was one of the biggest mistakes you could have made on your journey. Forgetting where you were going, forgetting that your newly found safe haven on the ship would only last as long as nothing burst your fragile bubble. 
Days passed, and your waking hours flew past you almost as fast as the space around you did. 
A single blip showed up at the edge of one of the monitors in the cockpit. Blinking bright blue, your spacecraft flew closer with each day. Neither of you paid any attention to it. The both of you relied on the autopilot mode to guide you to Lumen, even if your initial direction was based on nothing more than what San had told you months ago. 
The change of course hadn’t made a difference to your daily routine until you saw the desolate planet in front of you. When you had spotted it one morning in the distance, you had presumed it to be an optical illusion. There wasn’t supposed to be much of anything out here, but you could very clearly see a small planet, darker than the surrounding space, with only the lights of ships to reveal that it was anything other than space junk or a meteor. 
Dark and wet, it lay lonely in the universe. Your fuel had begun emptying after weeks of nonstop flying, you would need to stop at one place or another sometime soon. Changing courses away from the prison planet now would only make suspicion arise from the watchtowers on the planet. There was no denying it: Phylaca would be your next stop.
“We need to put on our best act, we fucked up y/n, let’s make it quick…” Cheol tumbled as you both watched the planet becoming bigger and bigger from the cockpit’s large window. “As long as they don’t find out anything about who we are or why we’re here, everything will be fine,” you agreed, the doubt evident in your voice and the way you were biting your cheek to distract you from the sense of doom you were experiencing. 
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Docking at Phylaca’s spaceport was unexpectedly easy, the man who had answered the intercom had welcomed you to land on one of the less crowded docks before they could come to meet you. You had worried they would take you as pirates or something worse since you weren’t authorized to be there, but the man on the speaker had jokingly called you out on “not exactly looking like a pirate ship.” You weren’t sure how you should take that, but you were thankful that it had let you both safely land on the planet. 
A guard was coming closer, he didn’t look like most guards you had seen before, he was rather short and his stature was on the smaller side. His presence, however, was enormous. The way he carried himself made you a bit nervous as he approached. You went out to meet him, hoping it wasn’t all a ploy to get you and Cheol arrested, he stayed behind inside the ship, having been convinced that it would be safer if nobody had seen him on Phylaca at all. San had recognized him as a level 1 automaton, even though most people can’t tell the difference at all, who was to say that nobody else would? 
“Hey,” the man said and reached out a hand, “Welcome to Phylaca, the intergalactic prison.” 
You had to swallow hard to not reveal how nervous that made you. “Hey, me and my crew were hoping that we could stay here for just a little while, just until we can restock on some supplies and fuel. We’ll be out of your hair before you can even count to 10!” You rambled, not much thought going into what you were saying even though your brain was running in circles trying not to say anything stupid. 
His features were sharp, delicate in some way, he stared at you expressionless as he listened. 
“That soon? On the run or something?” He said, the same expressionless eyes staring at you suspiciously. 
Fuck, you had already fucked it all up. You would die in prison and they would probably send Cheol back to earth and he would forget everything and you would be left here all alone for all of eternity! You wanted to cry. The guard must’ve noticed, because as he saw the tears trying their hardest not to fall from your bottom lashes his expression let up, eyebrows knitting worriedly together and he reached out a hand, “No, shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry!” 
The tears fell, and you wiped them off, pulling back from the hand the guard had reached out for you. “I was only kidding, okay? I’m gonna tell you a secret, yeah?” 
Your tears were gone, you mind a huge question mark as the guard you had been speaking to for about two minutes had 1. Made you cry, 2. Guess your life’s story in two seconds, and 3. Wants to tell you a secret so you won’t cry?? 
Who was this man? 
“You’re not the first person who has ended up here while on the run, and I’ll help if you are! That’s my secret…” he whispered, looking at you with a curious eye. Was he waiting for you to respond to him disclosing what was most likely highly restricted information to you just because you were tired and scared?
“Uhm…” you were speechless, “I’m y/n, I’d love help…” 
“Oh wow, okay that was much easier than it usually is. Hi y/n, I’m Hongjoong,” he gave you a gentle smile now, somehow reassuring you that you would be okay, even if you had just been offered illegal help from what you figured was basically a corrupt guard. 
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“What? He just agreed to help us? A Phylaca guard agreed to restock our storage and fuel tank. Just like that?” Cheol was in disbelief, you nodded with big eyes, barely believing it yourself. 
“I mean, it’s possible that he only said he would because I was crying and he wanted some time to get more guards to come and arrest us… but he seemed very nice!” 
He was in shock, and he was scared, you could see it in his face before he hid it in his hands, rubbing away the worries as much as possible. 
“He… did he not want anything in return?” He finally asked. You were silent for a moment. “Y/n. What did he ask you to do in return for this huge favor?” 
His voice was stern, and you would need to tell him eventually anyhow. 
“…he wants us to help one of his acquaintances get off of Phylaca…” you mumbled, a bit scared of how he would react to you agreeing to host strangers on your ship. 
“You invited refugees from a prison to our ship?” 
“…I did.”
He stared at you, his expression hard to read. 
“Can we run before they get here?” 
“I don’t think we should…”
“…Fine, let’s wait for them, whoever they are. But if it turns out they’re literal murderers or something, we should kick them off sooner rather than later,” he said before standing up. You were standing by the door, not having gotten much further into the room created for the kitchen staff on the ship, the room that you had deemed safe enough for Cheol to stay in while you went outside to meet Hongjoong. 
He walked to you, taking your face in his hands, “Thank you for coming back safely, even if this deal might get us killed in the end.” 
You chuckled but was interrupted when Cheol leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 
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The ship was ready to lift, but the docks were even emptier than you had seen them during the entire time you had been on Phylaca. Hongjoong hadn’t talked to you much since that first day. He had sent notes along with the supplies he had sent over. It was terrifying each time a delivery was made, you never knew if this was the day you would be found out and arrested. But Hongjoong had turned out to be trustworthy, and you had kept your own promise of staying to help out his acquaintances in need too, at least so far. 
“They haven’t shown yet?” Cheol asked when he came back to the cockpit where you sat, prepared to lift the moment your new passengers were on the ship. 
“Nope, Hongjoong said that they would show up about now… should we leave if they don’t come?” 
“I don’t know. Maybe they will come after us if we leave…we don’t know how much we should trust that guard if we break our deal.” 
He was right, you needed to wait; you needed to keep your promise to make it off Phylaca safely. If you had done all this just to get arrested while leaving the planet, it would’ve all been in vain. 
You waited, the silence of the empty-looking planet feeling increasingly eerie. 
Then you spotted them, you gasped, they were running. Two people were running towards you. You couldn’t see them clearly, they were too far away at first. You recognized the jacket on one of them, it belonged to the guard on Phylaca. The other person was seemingly wearing matching clothes. Were they criminals? What had you gotten yourselves into? 
You didn’t call for Cheol to come look, but he noticed the way you tensed up as you saw them coming closer and the way your breath hitched in your throat when you finally saw them. You recognized one of them from the big plasma screens. His face had been everywhere. Even though you hadn’t been looking much at any of the members standing beside the man you had found out was the idol you were talking to in secret, you could recall his face lit up with the cold blue lights in the evening. He was one of the 53V3NT33N members. D1N0. One of the members Cheol had been forced to leave behind when he ran. He was here, on Phylaca. 
Cheol stood frozen beside you. They stopped just a couple hundred feet away, the other person blocking the view of D1N0’s face. Something was happening, you didn’t know what, but when you saw the guards you didn’t even care anymore. You weren’t going to get caught here, not like this. D1N0 had stayed behind. He pushed the other person forward, and simply watched as they ran toward the ship. They ran away from him, away from the guards, and towards you and Cheol. 
They were the acquaintances Hongjoong had spoken of, they were supposed to leave with you. Both of them. But only one of them got on board. Cheol was still frozen, you weren’t sure if he was even there anymore. You couldn’t wait. The stranger that had run on board was safe. 
You left the docks, hearing a faint, “No!” You knew it was Cheol, but the instinct to get you all to safety was greater than his shouts for you to turn back. He could’ve overpowered you and made you go back, but he didn’t even think that far. He ran to the doors that would’ve led him outside. A large bang echoed through the metal hallways of the spacecraft along with a pained sob. You didn’t know if it came from Cheol or your new passenger.
But there was nothing to step onto, only space. The view of D1N0 was soon lost, you didn’t want any of you to see what would happen to him as he stayed on Phylaca. 
You didn’t want to know what you had done as you left without him. 
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Cheol was quiet. So quiet. 
He said nothing, he barely looked at you. It felt like a stab in the back each time he looked away from you when you even looked his way or opened your mouth. 
The bang had come from Cheol making a dent in the interior of the ship, wrecking his hand in the meantime. You had looked at his broken hand in horror, the sight of his skin cracked but without a single drop of blood or bone showing made you queasy. 
The stillness of the ship continued for days. Your new passenger having shut themselves away from the both of you, it was different than Cheol, but the silence was crushing anyhow. There was nowhere to go, you were stuck right there, in the middle of the universe. 
You used everything San had taught you back at Specus to help heal Cheol’s hand. With bandages and thread, you sewed and patched his cracked skin over the mechanical workings of his broken self. It didn’t help him deal with his real pain though, you knew that. 
You couldn’t understand either of their pain completely, but you tried. He didn’t want you to try. He was hurt and he wanted you to feel as alone as he did, you knew he just didn’t want to be completely alone in his pain. So you let him stay as he was: quiet and angry. 
He didn’t touch you anymore. He didn’t talk to you. He didn’t even care to respond to a single question you asked for over a week. You cried yourself to sleep each night, and did your best to create a new daily routine now that everything had changed into this still place of pain and dark glances thrown your way. 
You had begun blaming yourself, you had made the choice, maybe you did deserve to be shut out by everyone. 
You waited for days for him to take the first step, to tell you that he was ready to talk about it all, to tell you that he wasn’t mad about the choice you had made. He never did. He didn’t say a word. The solitude continues for all three of you on your lonely spacecraft on your way to a planet that didn’t exist…
It continued until you felt yourself going mad, the days had melted together in a bad way, the only emotion you had felt was gray and sticky and you hated it. You had begun hating yourself because of it. 
“Cheol.” Was all you said to him, startling him where he sat staring into space from the cockpit. You stood a couple steps away from him, closer to the door than to the man who seemed like a shell of who he had been before Phylaca. 
At first, he only responded with silence, but after a moment words formed. “Do you know why I had the phone you called in the first place?”
His voice sounded raspy and repressed as if he was choking on the syllables. You shook your head in response. He didn’t see you, but he continued. 
“I convinced the management that I needed a phone that wasn’t connected to the network so that in case anything bad happened to me or the members, I would be able to contact help even when our communication devices didn’t work.” 
His voice wasn’t more than a choked whisper. The words still felt like a slap to the face. 
“Everything I have ever said, done, and felt has always been meant to help my members, they’re my family. Instead, I used what I had gained in the name of helping them, to ruin everything. I did it all for my own selfish desires. Can you understand how much shame and guilt is crushing me every day? Every minute I spend away from them. Not even knowing if they’re okay.”
You had nothing to say. What could you say? Could any of your words comfort him at all? Could you make him the slightest bit happier right now? Could you ever manage to keep him happy? Distracting him from all the disasters of the universe wasn’t possible, so what could you do? 
Instead, you continued to say nothing. Your body fell back against the cold metal wall behind you. You couldn’t say a single word to help him, but you could let him say all the words he needed to say to help himself. 
He stayed quiet for a while. Your shuffling as you slid down to the floor against the wall told him you were still there. His figure slumped back against the chair he sat in. 
“I just, I can’t believe I actually left them all to fucking deal with all of this by themselves. I don’t even know if they made it out alive.” He began, voice still strained as he tried to hide everything that wished to rip him apart from within. “I was supposed to be there for them, to be their leader who stood by them no matter what. And you know what, I took pride in that, I was so proud to be the one to support those guys even in the situation we were in.”
You stayed quiet. Quiet tears streamed down your face as you listened. 
“How could I just leave? What? Because I was scared of forgetting this? I could’ve stayed, I could’ve figured something out.” He was beginning to sound angry now.
“Cheol, no. You know you couldn’t have. This was the only way… wasn’t it?” You whispered, the tears clouding your eyes as you watched the back of his head. 
“I- I don’t know anymore y/n. Maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly at all, maybe I was actually sick like they said…” he sighed. 
Your heart was in your throat, swallowing hard you decided to say your peace as well. “So… because you loved someone- no, because you loved me, you’re gonna blame yourself for everything that has happened? That feels like you’re actually blaming me, you know?”
This made him turn around. His features were tired and his skin was dull. He hadn’t been taking care of himself at all. 
“Y/n, stop it. You know this isn’t your fault.” He mumbled. Tired eyes looking at your tear-stained face. 
“No, maybe it is. You would’ve never broken the rules, they would’ve never found out and you would’ve never been almost rebooted. And most importantly - if you had never loved me you wouldn’t have had to abandon your family.”
“Please, just stop that y/n.” He groaned and let his head fall back, eyes closed, he was in pain. You didn’t know if it was physical or mental. Nevertheless, you wanted him to listen as well. You were in pain too. 
“What? Am I making you feel bad for thinking it’s me that’s the problem and not the goddamn company that put you through it all from the start? Am I making you feel like you’re making me feel with all of your talk of how ashamed you feel that you left that life behind? Because I know, I remember how out of everything horrible in your life back then, those boys were the only thing that made you happy while you were there… So please, stop beating yourself up, Cheol. The past has already happened, we managed to get out right? What makes you think the others weren’t as lucky as we were?”
He stayed quiet for a while. His silence made your heart drop. You needed to ask him straight up. 
“Do you blame me? Do you hate me?” Your voice wasn’t more than a whisper, but he heard you. It was impossible for him not to. 
“I-” he tried, but his voice broke. The tears welled in your eyes. You wanted to fight for what you two had, but if he blamed you… whatever you had might be too far from saving. 
“It’s okay. I understand.” 
You forced yourself to say it, you couldn’t walk away from him. Even if he hated you, you refused to be the one to leave. 
“It’s not that I hate you, I just hate how it hurts. Because it really fucking hurts. I’m in pain every single second and I don’t know how to make it stop.” His voice was breaking as tears streamed down his face. “But, I… I can’t lose you too.”
You placed the back of your hand over your mouth, trying to somehow hold back the pain that wanted to consume you from the inside. 
“We should’ve tried saving Dino…” 
You got up from your corner, your arms finally letting your legs go, replacing your own arms around your body with Cheol’s. He hugged you. Tightly. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. It was relieving to say it. He had been in a shame spiral for the past few weeks. He just hadn’t noticed. Still, you stayed with him, waited for him, listened to him. He wanted to repay you for all of it. 
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Weeks passed yet again. Things got better, slowly but surely. You talked to each other. You were beginning to forgive each other for those weeks after Phylaca. It wasn’t easy. 
Breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleep, and repeat. Small conversations, still trying not to start up another fight. It was exhausting. 
The stranger still wasn’t speaking much, too wrapped up in their own mind to be able to share the pain they kept inside. Not that either of you were sharing your struggles with them anyhow. It was a mutual understanding that all three of you needed some space, even as you were trapped together in space. Galaxies passed you by, and you found yourself passing time by watching the tiny lights fly past the large windows from the cockpit.  
Sometimes, Cheol sat with you. Holding your hand, comforting you without words just like he had been that day when this had all begun. That helped. It helped both of you; knowing that neither of you actually wanted to abandon what you had, even after everything. 
When something finally showed up in front of your ship, only a small planet, not much bigger than the moon of the earth, you didn’t allow yourself to get your hopes up. 
After so many months, this was probably only another uninhabited planet with a poisonous atmosphere. 
“I don’t wanna get your hopes up, Cheol, but this planet looks so much like earth…” you shouted to Cheol who was trying to get your guest to eat some of the lunch from earlier, with very little success. 
If this was Lumen, maybe everything would be okay.
Maybe the void of space you had been traveling through had an end after all, despite the overwhelming feeling of being trapped and that you would all end up wasting away inside the ship on your long journey. 
But if this was it…
You let the ship continue straight ahead. Cheol and your guest joined you in the cockpit after hearing your shouts across the deck. 
All three of you watched as the planet became bigger. You could see water, and green patches everywhere. Clouds! There were clouds and an atmosphere surrounding the small planet. 
You had gone off autopilot, Cheol helping you steer the ship toward the planet. You circled it, trying to draw attention to yourselves through the intercom system. No sign of life was heard until a small voice came through, a child. “Hello! Are you aliens??” The child asked over the crackling of the coms. 
You wanted to shout, there was life here! 
“Hello? We’re outside of your airspace, our registration is BO883628K, and we are requesting permission to land!” You shouted back. 
“What are you doing?!” Another voice could be heard, the small child squealed and the crackling disappeared. You were scared the last shot at landing somewhere had been lost forever, but the other voice came back after just a moment. 
“Hey? Who is this?” 
Your body was tense, nerves firing uncontrollably as you explained your errand yet again. 
“Of course, welcome to Lumen, wanderers.” 
You yelped, “Lumen?! We found it?” You were jumping up and down, laughing and shouting as you felt all your worries leaving your body. Your new home was right below you, welcoming you with a warm embrace and new hope.
“Yes, you found it,” the voice crackled, you could hear them chuckling a bit at your excited yelling. “There are bigger docks located northeast of your current location, go there to land safely.”
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You found a house, outside one of the small towns near the docks. You had nothing to give in return for the hospitality the diverse population of Lumen offered you, Cheol, and your newest passenger. 
They didn’t care, they told you that most of the people there had already been through the same suffering that you all had. Anyone who made it to Lumen was treated like family, nobody was to be left empty-handed just because they were strangers to the people. 
“Is this really here? Am I dead or asleep or something?” You said in wonder, grasping at Seungcheol’s arm. You stood in your new kitchen, it was simple, but airy. The view from the kitchen showed the sunny forest lying just behind the garden and the porch. 
“If you’re dreaming I’m dreaming with you.” He laughed hysterically. “But I think it might be real…” 
You jumped into Cheol’s embrace, hugging and kissing him like the past few weeks had all been a bad dream, like this was your true reality and everything bad could be forgotten completely. 
He seemed happy as well, looking around the large house with you, coming up with ways you could improve the place, and how you could make the vegetable garden prosper once again. It was overgrown and run down, everything had been left to its own devices. But it was vacant, and the townspeople had agreed that you two would be wonderful as the new owners of the house. It was a short forest walk back to the town, where you had parted from your quiet passenger, telling them that they were welcome any day and that you would always have a spare room and a shoulder to cry on. It made Cheol happy, somehow trying to make up for the fact that you had lost D1N0 on Phylaca through this person that he must’ve cared about more than his own life. 
“Do you think they will be able to find their way here too? The members, I mean. Like we did?” You whispered, resting your head on Cheol’s shoulder, your hand in his. You watched the dark green leaves swaying in the summer breeze, the flowers following the sun that shone more than it was gone, and the grass on the ground scenting the air you breathed in. 
“I hope so, I think they will know eventually.”
“Know what?” You said and looked at him. 
“That we’re here.”
You tilted your head. “How would they know to find us here of all places?” 
“Remember the secret I had with San on the first ship?” He said and smiled, embarrassed about something. 
You nodded. Not quite understanding what he meant yet. 
“I told him to tell anyone he met that might be related to us. Actually, I told him to let anyone like us know that if we got here, we would offer a home for them to rest at.”
Tears welled in your eyes, he had been thinking of everyone else this entire time. Not once had he let himself be entirely selfish, you squeezed his hand, bringing it up to your lips and pressing a thankful kiss to his soft skin. 
“I think they will come, eventually.” 
The years passed on Lumen. You and Cheol had made a home for yourselves. A home that would be open for any runaways, robot, alien, and human alike. It was safe, happy, and hopeful because one day everything might be absolutely perfect in your new home. 
The spare rooms of your new house would exist for them if they could ever get to their leader. The thought helped him continue, to live life to the fullest until they could join him. It comforted you as well, knowing that he had some hope left and that maybe he could let go of some of the guilt you knew he carried with him each day, and instead let himself be proud of something once again. 
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Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕
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fandomregression · 1 year
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Possible New AO3 Tags!!
So, I think we all know that the ao3 tag situation is...not ideal. You have basically two choices for tags: Age Regression/De-aging (which is technically meant for physically regressed/de-aged characters, not agere) or Non-sexual Age Play (which is...the wrong thing). Both of these tags are inaccurate for our community, but we have used them because its as close as we can get. It's even gotten to the point where Age Regression/De-aging has wrangled everything under the sun for agere (agere, age regression, regression, and every tag we make complaining about our tag situation). So! I have two possibilities for new tags we can use!
🧸Inner Child Therapy🧸
this one is probably the most obvious choice? at least it is to me lol inner child therapy is another, more clinical name for agere, so it would be a good choice. it's also not currently used for anything on ao3 (Healing the Inner Child is a tag, but not currently one with more than i think 3 fics, and it's not a common tag, so it would more than likely get wrangled, but I think it'd be okay)
with this one, we would also have the option to use secondary tags like we use with Age Regression/De-aging currently (think how a lot of fics use "Age Regression Little [Character]" tags, we could use something like "Inner Child Little [Character]" instead)
i think inner child therapy as a term would also help with the stigma around agere because it really...can't be confused with anything else? not as far as i can make out anyway lol
a con toward this would be that not many ppl currently know this as a term, and therefore it would be hard to implement
🖍Crayonfic🖍
i just think this one is cute. like we're all just out here writing our fics in crayon to share with each other hehe
in my head, this would even be able to include a whole tagging system using diff crayon colors to mean different things (when i was thinking of this concept, i was thinking along the lines of pink crayon = fluff, blue = angst, green = whump, purple = romantic, orange = platonic, white = diapers, etc etc etc etc)
it just so cute in my head lol, and it would definitely be easy to separate from the current tags
a con toward this one is just that it could be confusing to try to implement and i could see it getting wildly out of hand and complicated if we aren't careful with it
No matter what, it will absolutely be a struggle to change tags to get away from what we have right now. In order for any sort of new tag, one of these or something else, to work we would all have to agree not to crosstag. When tagging fics, you would *not* be able to tag it with the old tags and one of the new ones because it would more than likely result in the new tag getting wrangled and then we're back to square one. It would have to be a community effort to get it explained *why* things are different, now, and how to find fics. It would also be a struggle to get authors of older works to maybe switch their tags out so that new readers can find them more easily under a new tag.
These are just my ideas, and I'd love to open the discussion up to you guys!! If there's any other ideas for tags, I'd love to hear them!!!
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newbie-whovian · 9 months
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I NEED TO REQUEST A TIMELORD! READER X 10TH DOCTOR!!!
I feel like there’s just not enough on the app.
could be just like cute adventures, two time lords chatting, idk you decide <3
(so sorry for the wait! This was super fun to write, thanks so much for the ask 👌)
A Madman In A Box
Rating: G
Pairing(s): 10th Doctor & Time Lord!Reader
Tags/TW: Time Lord reader, reader is gender neutral
The Doctor was unlike any Time Lord you'd ever met.
For one, he seemed to have no idea what he was doing at any given moment. He leapt headfirst into danger, and almost seemed to relish in leaving an impact. The two of you had travelled to hundreds of different star systems, and it seemed to be his mission to leave each place a little better off than when you'd arrived.
It was baffling, but as you spent more time travelling space and time in his antiquated Type 40 TARDIS, you began to realize that this lifestyle fit you more than a life on Gallifrey ever would.
Today, the Doctor was taking a bit of a break. Instead of scouting for a new adventure to insert himself into, he was camped out in the console room, lying on his back and taking apart... Something.
"What are you doing?" you asked, sitting in one of the jump seats. You tended to hover whenever the Doctor began... Tinkering - once he'd tried to correct the chameleon circuit and nearly ejected the entire console room into space.
He sat up, promptly knocking his head against the bottom of the console. "General maintenance," he muttered as he rubbed the forming knot on his forehead, "Have to make sure the old girl is in tip top shape."
You smothered a snort. "I think the 'old girl' was out of commission before either of us were even born," you said, and he answered you with a huff.
"It's not like they had the newest model just sitting empty in a museum," he said. The TARDIS gave an indignant hum and he patted the central column, saying, "Besides, she's the best machine I've ever operated."
You raised your eyebrows and nodded, crossing one leg over the other and reclining in your chair.
After a moment, you asked, "Why did you do it? I mean, you hardly passed your exams, whatever made you think to go off on your own?"
He paused. "I just hated being there. My first face had never liked being cooped up on that dust ball-"
"Your first face?" you interrupted, "I never heard that bit. You left before you had even regenerated, even once?"
He nodded, saying, "I don't know what it was back then, maybe I was going stir-crazy, maybe I saw the writing on the wall and decided to try and avoid it on my own, I don't know. But I left, and I'm better off for it."
A question arose in your mind and you quickly shoved it back down. The Time War was a topic that - the two of you had agreed - was best left alone, and you respected that. It was an open wound in the universe, and you'd never seen it more plainly than in your best friend.
"What do you have in mind for the next trip?" you asked, and his face lit up.
He stood up from the floor and tugged one of the view screens over to where you could see, flipping a switch and displaying a star chart. "So, you know the forest of Pitinia?"
"The bird sanctuary?"
"Yes. Well, in the next system over, the same people have built the biggest aquarium in the universe."
You sat up in your chair, a smile dancing across your face. "Have you got ginger beer somewhere?"
He met your gaze with a wide smile. "You read my mind."
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maggie-margret-blog · 7 months
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Friends with Tattoo Benefits
Mingi was one of those guys you just couldn’t replicate. he had a sort of passion for life that was kinda hard to find in people.I had been seeing him as an artist for a little over a year now, slowly but surely filling my arms and mid section with ink. He was talented and enthusiastic about each new project I threw his way, may it be big or small. Mingi himself only had a handful of tattoos littering his milkish skin,but claimed he was in it for the arts, not the personal experience. I had a theory he was just a bitch about pain or needles, nevertheless I never bothered him about it during our sessions. And he couldn’t lie about the money either. It was good fucking money.
Mingi had become somewhat of a best friend, mixed in with all the other things that come with being in close contact for so long.
We had first met that one fateful morning, 2am to be exact, when I had decided that drunk tattoos would be a hilarious idea. In hindsight it was a wonderful memory and honestly I was better for the experience. My young, college ego had been inflated and a stupid decision was just what I needed to keep my head on my shoulders. The night had just begun for me and my friends, bar hopping and partying at each frat house we could bare to see the inside of. All the ones I had seen prior were rat nests, and yet I chose to place myself there. A few of my friends had tagged along one Friday in search of some of my famous shenanigans. Modesty forbid I ever keep my thrills to myself.
“C’mon let’s dip, this place sucks.” Renel quoted as she threw down a pink solo cup onto the frat house floor. We had only been there about 30 minutes and already we were feeling the effects of poor party planning. A dozen or more drunk college girls stood in a tight circle, grinding on any available guy, and in some cases other gals as Salt Shaker boomed from the shitty stereo system. Since the Ying Yang twins weren’t the vibe for the night, I wholeheartedly agreed- “Let’s get the fuck out!”
“I’m barely drunk! Give me a fucking minute!” San hollered over the loud music, grabbing onto Renel’s ponytail and stopping her from moving any further towards the door. “There’s smoke in my eyes, this drink taste like dog shit and my thong is literally splitting my asshole in half, San.” Renel growled as she swatted his hands away. “That’s your fault. Just take it off and sit down.” He laughed, knowing he was only egging her on. “Fine, here-“ Renel said smuggly as she reaches under her sequined skirt, pulling the lacey garment down her legs and stepping out of it. “Woah Ren-“ I began, on my for her to grab the thong and shove it in San’s pocket. “I’ll go sit down.”
“San you asshole.” I laugh lightly, never quiet getting over those two’s battles. “Remind me to give this back to her. If Yunho ever finds out I have his girlfriend’s thong in my pants, he’ll kill me.” He chortles. “I don’t think I will. You deserve a beating.” I joke.
“Tryna get rid of me?”
“Maybe.”
“He’s twice my size. I’m dead.”
“You’re a good guy, you’re fine.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m heading out. I’m meeting my friend downtown.” Hongjoon, another one of chipper friends, said as he pushed past us towards the exit. “Who?” I called out as the sixth drink I had been nursing finally began to hit me. Whatever this shit was was weak, and disgusting. Yet, I was still drowning my weekend stresses in it.
“Mingi. You know that tattoo guy I was talking about.” Hongjoon enthused. This guy was always so happy for some reason. “Are you getting a tattoo?” I asked again.
“Yeah why? You wanna come?”
“I’ll go. Anything to get me out of here.” I agree hastily as I set the solo cup I had been drinking from down. “I’m drunk enough I’ll go.” San called, as if he hadn’t been complaining of the opposite just minutes ago. “Go tell Renel.” I bark as I follow Hongjoon out into the yard.
Once San and Renel had caught up to us, we were already halfway downtown, passing bar after bar and collectively agreeing that we should all go to each one. “If we keep this up I’ll literally never make my appointment.” Joon whined as he threw back one last shot. “Fine, okay let’s go.” San gave a unionized answer for us all. “Mingi’s gonna kill me. He’s supposed to be closing and I’m already 20 minutes late.”
“We’re almost there Joon, calm down.” San said with a hint of a slur. With that statement we came up upon the shop. The neon light was already off, but a man sat at the counter with his head down to scroll on his phone.
“Hey Mingi! Sorry I’m so late!” Joon said sorrowfully as he brought his hands together and bowed shallowly. “Hey, no don’t worry about it. I was just chilling out.” The man spoke as he raised from the counter and reached out for Hongjoon’s hand. The whole place reminded me of a mechanic’s shop. Sort of industrial and gray, but art was strewn across the walls and a few neon light had been added to spruce up the place.
The size of this man had me speechless, though my drunken stupor may have exaggerated it. Mingi was maybe 6’0 and broad in the shoulders and chest. I could tell by the way his black compression shirt stretched over his muscles, rippling in their definition. With the buzz already prominent in my head, this man looked like a playground to me. All I wanted to do was climb him. I could feel a flush flooding my cheeks as he and Hongjoon giggled and joked over sketches and last minute ideas. I could just play it off as a liquor blush, but I knew it was because of him. Fuck he was attractive. He was just so big and handsome.
“Shouldn’t take too long. Maybe an hour.” Mingi said softly as he looked over the small design. It seemed to be just a simple spiderweb with a few intricacies.
As soon as Hongjoon laid down on the sterilized bed, he was snoring. Joon had never once been awake during a session. Either this was a result of the alcohol, or the pain was a sickening comfort for him. Either way he was out. I spent m my time, however, inspecting the artist and the way he did every little thing. His gloves were blue like they had at a doctor’s office, tight and defining over his veined hands. The tips of his thick fingers were gripping the gun firmly with a controlled pressure. His focus and precision were evident in both his work and how he carried out his task. Why was everything about him so alluring?
“Joon? Are you good buddy?” Mingi asked after working on the piece for a good hour. It was swollen and puffed, but I could already tell it would heal beautifully. “Yeah, I’m cool.” Joon said groggily.
San and Renel were sleeping across the waiting room chair at this point, San’s jacket draped over Ren’s legs. That’s small detail made me chuckle. Sure they had their differences, but if she was naked from the waist down in public, he’d protect her. “Dude sick, thank you.” Joon said as he looked over his Achilles heel, now inked and decorated. “No problem man. Now pay me and go home.” Mingi laughed lightly as he pushed Joon towards the front.
“How much?” I asked as an interception. “Hm?” Mingi cocked his head to the side as I stood from my seat, still a little wobbly from all the alcohol in my system.“How much for a small tattoo? A really little one.” I asked. I hadn’t known how I would get close to him, but this was the perfect opportunity. This way I really inspect him up close. Stare deep into his concentrated expression and analyze his eyes. Oh fuck, those eyes.
“Uh, all depends I guess. Why, do you want one?” He questioned as he handed Hongjoon a pen to sign his receipt. I nodded vigorously as I popped up from the plastic chair. I had no clue what I was doing, or why I just agreed to get a tattoo on the spot, but here I was. “Cool, give me a minute.” Mingi said with a smile, showing off his row of beautiful teeth. They weren’t straight but who cared? Not me! He was so cute!
“We’re gonna head out. I’ll get her back to Yunho.” Hongjoon said as he shook Renel awake for a minute or so. “Okay,” I said shortly as a twinge of turmoil erupted in my stomach. Sure this was kind of what I wanted, to be alone with this new hunk, but now I was alone alone? My body shivered involuntarily, spine tingling and adjusting at the thought. “Where’re you going San?” My voice was timid, a gleaming ray of hope in eye as i asked. I was praying that he could be talked into staying with me. “I’m going home so I don’t die. You know how Woo is if I’m not in before sunrise.” I only nodded at the statement as the unsettling feeling began to sober me. But I couldn’t pass this up!
“This way m’lady.” Mingi’s voice broke my illusion of loneliness as all my prior thoughts raced back in. He was the reason I stayed anyway. “Thank you.” I punctuated with a head nod as we walked back to where Hongjoon had just been napping. “Now, what’s going on? What’re we doing?” Mingi asked as he sat back against the counter, arms crossed to expose the few tattoos he had. Though not plentiful, they were big and loud. The one he sported on his left forearm was a colorful mural of what seemed to be hyper realistic squid. The body was red and luminescent with a somewhat manly aura somehow. It was an interesting choice for sure, but it was executed beautifully so I had to admire it for that reason. His right arm was detailed in black and white, a few odd and ends tattooed on his skin, probably to represent certain things. I did notice a small KQ prominent on the first knuckle of his index finger. KQ had been a music club hosted on my campus for years.
I laughed internally at the thought of this big, beefy man singing in a choir, or performing The Newsies at the campus theater. He didn’t seem the type. “Anything I guess. Maybe something coquette-ish.” I babbled, unable to tear my eyes away from Mingi’s form in front of me. I stood sheepishly in front of him, a facade of confidence saving me face, but only a little bit since I was still kind of drunk. “Coquette-ish? Like the frilly bows and Victorian shit?” His voice reverberated is low bass over the air. I watched his mouth and nose as he repeated what I had said, then nodded. He nodded along and choked down a chuckle.
Mingi drew up a tiny little design, detailed with a small, pink ribbon tied into a bow with a pearl accent. It was actually very cute and even my sober mind loved it. Something tiny and coquettish. I was so happy with it.
“You know I don’t usually do walk ins.” He said as he etched a stencil. “Oh? Why start tonight?” I asked, looking over his shoulder, feeling the heat rising from his body. “If I’m being honest I thought you were cute. And I’d rather you get a good drunk tattoo instead of one you’ll regret.” He chuckled lightly, but my face turned red at the mention of his attraction. He thought I was cute? “Now where do you want it?” Mingi asked as he turned to look at me, now just inches from my face. I had practically been his shell for the last 15 minutes as I watched him sketch, so the sudden movement surprised me. I stumbled backwards a bit, and was sure to fall of Mingi hadn’t gripped onto my belt, pulling me back to stability. His hand was nestled between our two bodies, now practically sandwiched together. I couldn’t help myself as the moment dragged on, but I looked forward at the chest I was now level with. Traveling upwards, my eyes met his. They pooled with a twinge of worry and one other emotion I couldn’t quite express. “Sorry,” I mumbled briefly as I stepped back, only for his hand to stay firm on my leather belt. “No, no it’s okay. Are you alright?” He questioned, unmoving from his position. “Y-yes I’m fine.”
The air was thick and heavy around us. The room wasn’t too big so that might have had something to do with it, but probably not. It was more likely the tension between us that simmered. His hand stayed on my belt, even going as far as to tighten his grip. “How drub are you?” He asks suddenly.
“I’m, I’m practically sober.” I answered.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“N-no I don’t.”
“Do you know where you are right now?”
“Tattoo shop.”
“Be more specific.” He hummed lowly as his hand pulled me closer, my hip flush against his thigh.
“Flaming Ink, downtown Astoria,” I answered again, quieter than before.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked finally, lowering himself to my level so he could see my expression clearly. My face was burning as it was, so for him to face me directly turned me to mush. And to kiss him? Oh fuck I could’ve vomited with how nervous I was!
I nodded slowly as the larger man braced my jaw in his palm, gently pulling me forward and pressing a hunger pained kiss to my lips. I was taken aback by the way he was already desperate for the contact. To be fair, so was I. The kiss only lasted about 3 seconds before he pulled away, lips parted and eyes droopy. The flecks of his dyed hair fell into his line of sight. The image in front of me was borderline erotic to say the least. I could tell by the look in his eyes that we were nowhere near finished.
Hastily, my arms found perch on his shoulders and I reconnected our lips, lapping at the pillowy petals and melting as he returned the favor. He tugged me closer, hands finally leaving my belt and landing on my waist, pulling my hips to his own. This was all too much yet I couldn’t (wouldn’t) stop myself. I had only wanted him for an hour or so, but that was an hour too long with out him.
Our lip lock progressed into something else entirely, and what that was I didn’t know. Something primal. Something languid and wet. Before I could count his teeth with my tongue, his hands were burrowed down the back of my jeans, fingers gripping at my ass haphazardly. The hum of the overhead lights was enough of a lullaby to keep us in the moment. Soft murmurs from the radio entwined around us and took the lead. “Mingi,” I said hushly, placing a hand on his chest. Oh finally I got to feel it. The muscles tensed under my touch and I watched the nipple harden from under the shirt. “Hm?” He acknowledged my plea and stopped himself. “I’m sorry it was all so fast, I-“ he began to explain himself, hands leaving my behind.
“No, no keep it there. I’m just— kinda you know, worked up.” I heaved as I kept eye contact with him. Those eyes, those honey brown eyes. Somehow the orange and yellow tendrils of hair complimented his eyes perfectly, encasing them in a warm, golden light. He was beautiful.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” His breath fans over neck slightly.
“Yeah, just not used to it.” I admit.
As far as sexual experiences went, I was dim in the subject. Yet, this was fueling a fire I never knew I had.
“Do you wanna stop?” Mingi asks as he’s pulling away.
“No! No I don’t want to!”
With that answer, Mingi was back to exploring what was exposed of my skin. Hands, finger tips, nails. I could feel everything as he lit each of my nerve endings on fire. Each swipe of his tongue left a burning trail in its path. “Fuck-“ I whispered internally, somehow finding my hands curled in his hair, entangling in the locks and pulling at the roots. The feeling of his lips on my neck made my stomach turn and twist with excitement.
How could this happen so fast? How was this really real? Was I dreaming?
No I couldn’t be dreaming. I could feel Mingi’s curious hands pushing up my shirt, folding the fabric upwards and letting it pool onto top of my breasts. Mingi pressed open mouthed kissed on my chest, tugging cheekily at the lining of my bra, teasing the nipple as he let it free. “Pretty.” Mingi’s voice vibrated against my skin, sending shivers down my entire being. Never in a hundred years could I explain myself and my behavior. I hadn’t been this kind of girl. Sure I partied and went a little crazy sometimes, but I had been strict with dating and sex. I never fucked on a first date. Hell, we had just met, never even went out. Renel would never believe me if I told her what was happening.
My brain was fuzzy as we continued in some sort of soft foreplay. His thick fingers had found their way down the front of my jeans, rubbing generously on my stiffening clit and entrance. My breath hitched as one found its way inside of me, petting at the spongy g-spot. I couldn’t keep my knees from buckling under that sort of pressure. I remembered stumbling around in an attempt to find something solid to hold onto, or at least steady myself on as he rid me of my clothes. I could remember removing his skin tight shirt and finally getting an eyeful of his sculptured physique. He was carved artfully as if by a woman with taste and experience. My hands explored his torso, slowly but surely making their way down my boxers. I ran a polished nail down the shaft of his throbbing cock, only to grab the entirety and grace it with a few passing pumps. His belt and jeans found themselves on the floor along with mine.
I had no time to feel the inevitable embarrassment. “Mingi-“ I moaned as he took the initiative to set me on the table, lips now working down my stomach and hips. A strong hand pushed gently on my chest and gestured for me to lay back and I followed with no hesitation. The icy sensation of the vinyl coating made me shiver, but I recovered as soon as his fingers hooked to the hem of my panties. My breathe caught in my throat, Mingi dragging the garment down my legs and letting them fall where they may.
“You’re sure you’re good with this?” He asked once more, looking down at me from his standing position. His eyes were soft and concerned but I could tell he was barely hanging on. His lids sat halfway across his iris, cutting off the light to his eyes. He looked dark and sexy, but alluring. The tattoos that weren’t apparent earlier were now proudly on display.
I only reeled back slightly at the sight of his miniature. Well, you could hardly call it miniature, but you know what I meant. The dick held itself proudly, the tip a dark pink and mushroomed, while the rod was stained a lighter hue, coursing with a few deliciously placed veins.
With as tender of intentions as possible, I reached to caress the decorated man’s chest and feel the heat emitting from the skin. He was as soft as satin, the feeling becoming addictive against my fingertips. His hands traveled to meet mine, bringing the appendage to his lips and leaving a few short kisses on the palm before holding it above my head. Our fingers intertwined as his other hand cradled the soft underside of my knee, pushing it upwards.
“I’m sure.” I said finally, eyes meeting his and he came closer, pressing gentle and reassuring kisses to my cheek and neck.
“Good,” he hummed.
Another blurry moment flashed as he said a few sweet things then continued to move his body. Soon enough I was in a comfortable position with a hand in his and one helping him push inside. My head fell backward as a silent sigh left my lips. Oh shit. “Oh Mingi-“ the words fell fluidly as he breached past my entrance. The stretch alone brought me back to reality, only to be pulled back into whatever sensual scene this was as he began to adjust. His breath was low but not indistinguishable, I could tell he was already feeling good. A second or so passed in silence until the pit in my stomach had grown twice it’s normal size.
“You can move.” I say, slight circling my hips. A pained hiss left Mingi’s plump lips. He takes the bottom in between his teeth and nods as his hips break their isolation
I felt as though my lungs had been palpated, deprived of air and squeezed to the brink. I felt like I was drowning but I couldn’t stop this. This was all too good. Mingi moved with a steady rhythm and intensity. His hands roamed my chest, poking and prodding at my breasts and using them for leverage for his powerful thrusts. I almost felt ridiculous as lewd noises leaked from my throat. My body shook with excitement and my voice was shaky with adrenaline.
“So cute. I can’t fucking stand it.” He growled next to my ear as he punctuated each word with a particularly sharp thrust. I couldn’t believe I had come here to accompany Hongjoon on a drunken tattoo venture, and ended up fucking the artist.
His motions grabbed me as wild, someone with experience in pleasure. Mingi’s body was following a natural progression as the bulbous head of his well endowed cock nestled against my cervix with each violent bash of our hips. A slight shake wracked my muscles and joints as the pressure and endurance of our position grew tiresome. I was exhausted but so ready to reach a peak with him. Coils tightened in my abdomen when Mingi’s voice sounded, moans and small grunts of praise echoed from him.
“Fuck-so good-“ he panted into my neck as his body curled around mine, encasing me in a lustful embrace. Mingi’s toned arms wrapped around my shoulders and waist while his forehead dropped to my collarbone. I could feel the change in angles as he hoisted my torso upwards to meet his, somewhat suspended in air. The erratic pace and movements of his hips reminded me of some crazed animal in heat. I felt the same way though. My body was craving each and every thing Mingi would give to me. His now harsh grips left marks on my skin that I wild find later; they’d bring back me memories of this night and how desperately I would be chasing a feeling like this again.
Creaks and screeches wailed from the legs of the table, yet Mingi couldn’t have cared any less. My arms gripped around his waist, in a way, propelling him forward. “Mingi!” My voice grew weaker in the moment. I was coming close.
“Mmm- fuck…” Mingi groaned against my skin, lips flattening to my chest and hair falling messily over my shoulder. I let my body speak for me as the intensity of his movements and brought me higher and higher. My walls closed around him, clenching in an effort to warn him that I was there. “Mingi! Uh! Gonna cum-“ I moan directly into the man’s ear, hoping to affect him the way I wanted to. “Mm- go ahead baby. You can cum.” His breath was hot as he lifted his head to face me, pressing a kiss to my lips as he quickened his pace. I couldn’t stop the chorus of moans, colored in shock as he pushed me over the edge.
I lay in waves of bliss. One surge after the other. If I was being honest, I had never cum first in any of my previous encounters. This was a once in a lifetime experience for me and I wasn’t going to lie, it was beautiful.
Mingi stalls briefly before sighing in satisfaction as he pulls out of me. My body immediately misses the weight of him inside of me, closing around nothing but air and slick ejaculat. My chest is heaving as I caught my breath, warm fuzzy feelings filling my body. Never had I ever had an orgasm quite like that.
It was soon interrupted at the sound of Mingi’s hand sliding over his still hard erection. I had been so caught up in my own pleasure that I forgot that he hadn’t cum yet. I peak downward at the beautiful man, his face scrunched a bit as he leans over my body. Without much thought I place my smaller hand in his. I can see a smirk forming on his lips as he allows me to help him rub his moistened dick. His eyes open slightly as we make contact, gazes holding intently as waves of pleasure flood his system. I never break eye contact as he reaches his final breath, our hands slow and a loud cry erupts from the man.
“Oh shit- oh fuck-“ Mingi mumbles quietly, forehead nudged to mine as he unloads on my stomach. I was quick to find Mingi’s jaw and yank his sight forward, our eyes meeting once again. “You’re so pretty.” I kiss him before he can answer my statement.
“Me?” He huffs confused. His string brow bone dips in concern of the comment. “Yes, you. You’re very pretty.” I reply, pulling him in for another kiss. “Thank you.” He says genuinely as heaves and tries to catch his breath.
——
“Soooo…. Do you still want that tattoo?” Mingi jokes as he holds the collar of my shirt open above me, placing it down over my head and resting it on my shoulders.
“I might have to take a rain check on that. I’m kinda tired.” My voice was hoarse and losing volume by the minute. A mix of drinking and calling his name for an hour would do the trick.
“Anytime, really. I do actually do tattoos. I swear. I’m not just a whore.” He laughs, looking down at me as I finish dressing myself and heave a sigh.
“I believe you.”
“Good. Do you think you’ll be back?” He questioned, flicking the light switch and opening the door for me. It was almost 5 am and I had no alibi for when Renel inevitably asks what kept me out so late. My cheeks flushed as I thought over the details. I might just tell her, just to see her reaction. If I knew anything about Renel, it was that she’d flip if I told her I fucked the tattoo guy.
“I’ll be back. For that tattoo and also… you know, if you ever wanna…” I led the the statement, looking down at my hands as he walked along side me towards the dorms. “I’m down. You know for tattoos… and… yeah.” He agreed. It was barely dawn, but I could tell his cheeks were as red as mine.
As soon as we reached my dormitory, I turned to face the man who had just made my night. I craned my neck upwards to face him. Gosh he was beautiful, especially in the light of the rising sun. “Thank you so much for tonight Mingi. And for walking me home.”
“Of course. Anytime, really. Have a good night.” He said gently.
“Or I guess morning. Have a Good morning.” He repeated. I chuckled slightly, placing a hand on his chest gingerly and pushing myself to stand on my tiptoes. I was hoping Mingi would get the idea and thankfully he did. His strong hands embraced me one last time as we shared a kiss. Nothing lustful or suggestive. A light, sweet, tender kiss.
“Have a good morning Mingi.” I said finally as we broke the kiss and I ran off towards the dorm doors.
“Tell me EVERYTHING!” A shrill voice echoed throughout the whole room as Renel surprised me at the door. My heart nearly burst out of my chest.
“Girl, sit down. You’re gonna love this!”
~The End~
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Note
Hi if your still taking requests the can I ask for an aged up story about reader x neteyam or Reader x Ao’nung fic where they are in a secret relationship and an altercation happens between their families and during it or after it is revealed that the reader is pregnant (no smut if ur uncomfortable with it) thus revealing their relationship. Plz hurt comfort is my genre as of late.
The reader is a Sully kid if it’s reader x Ao’nung and if it’s x Neteyam then she is Ronal and Tonowari child.
Of course, you ask for it and you must have it! I love this idea! I hope you like it and maybe I'll do a part two where we continue with the dinner?? We shall see if people enjoy it! (Also I did not take the Sully kid into consideration so I'm sorry if that shows)
I named it: Secret Families
Ps: Thank you for your support!
┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑
Pairing: Aonung x reader
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: This is my second post of the week so we shall see you next week. Thank you all for your support. I'm setting up tag lists for the x reader series now so if you want to be part of my avatar x reader tag list, reach out, don't be scared! <3
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Ronal was a suspicious woman; not much went under her radar for very long, and her children knew that, yet they still did everything they could to keep their little secrets under wraps.
Aonung was no different, well apart from the fact that the nature of his secret would have had more severe repercussions than any profound dark secret his sister was harboring.
To the clan, you and Aonung were the worst enemies since a young age. They all thought that Aonung had  matured dramatically over the years to prepare himself for the role of Olo'eyktan. Still, they thought he still hadn't managed to put out the petty fire you ignited in him whenever you walked past with your usual saunter, making him want to roll his eyes so hard they fell out of his head.
But in private, far beyond the gaze of curious eyes, you two were mates before the great mother in an immortal bond with one another.
The only people who knew about your relationship were yourselves, and while a few amongst your friends had suspicions that you two had feelings for each other, none of them knew how deep the feelings went.
One afternoon after you finished all your required chores for Ronal, who was training you to be a healer, she invited you to dinner the following evening. You nervously agreed while trying not to register any red flags to her attention as you quickly excused yourself so you could get home to your pod before nightfall.
As you wandered back to your quarters, your mind returned to an anxiety that had popped up a few weeks ago, slowly turning from an obsessed overthought to a life-changing reality.
You were pregnant.
You had been a few weeks late on your cycle, so when Ronal left to give her mate his lunch, you quickly ran a test, and it came back with all the signs for positive.
As soon as the herbal mixture had turned a soft blue which confirmed your doubts, a million questions raced through your mind, and now that you had time alone, you dug back into the pile with fresh eyes.
How would you tell Aonung? He had never mentioned wanting kids, as you were both so young. He hadn't even become chief yet, so you highly doubted he wanted to settle down and start a family just yet. He would surely take the news badly.
Would you keep it? You were still at a stage where you knew a few herbal concoctions that would abort the embryo from your system, and you could do so without telling anyone. It would be like it never happened.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you crashed into a solid chest, you stumbled back a bit, but two hands gripped your forearms to steady you.
You looked up, and as if he had heard your thoughts and come running to speak with you, Aonung was there with his usual smirk. He restrained himself to only give you in private.
"What's the rush, servant girl?" He asked while using the affectionate nickname he had given to you years ago from the job that required you to spend a lot of time running after his mother without questioning her.
Usually, you would have smirked at him and spat out an insult, but instead, you could feel the anxiety clog your throat, and you stuck your thumb between your teeth, nervously nibbling on it to stop the gasps of air you knew you would let out without the block.
His comedic attitude dropped, and he immediately dropped his height a little to try and look into your eyes.
"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?" His voice was quiet and soft as his eyes darted around to make sure nobody was around so he could quickly pull you to his chest.
You didn't know the tears had formed in your eyes until Aonung noticed them slipping down your cheeks and pulled you into his cradle arms to silence you like a small child.
"You know my mother doesn't mean anything she says when she's angry!" His only logical conclusion as to why you could be crying on your way back from work was that it must have been his mother's temper.
Ronal had a tendency to slip up and call you some variation of 'incompetent' as she had done in the past to previous students.
"It's not that", you huffed as you hopelessly wiped one side of your face with your hand to try and rub away the tears.
"I have to talk to you about something", you whispered, still unable to believe what was currently growing in your womb. You pulled back from Aonung and watched as his face fell a bit.
Immediately his mind spiraled to think of the worst possibilities that could have happened. Had you been attacked? Were you sick? Had someone been hurt? Did someone find out about you two and not take it well?
As you saw him flicker from each of your eyes with a hurricane of unanswered questions brewing in his mind, you simply nodded toward your pod at the end of the pathway and led him to speak privately.
He ran after you and quickly unrolled the sail above your door so he could speak without fear of being overheard and having to deal with the emotional crisis of another person.
He watched you pace a hole in the floor for a few seconds, and then you turned sharply and pointed to the floor.
"I think it's best if you sit down", you could feel the air thicken as he resentfully took a seat on one knee while he leaned on the other.
The climate was humid and you could almost feel your mate's brain churning to keep up with his theories.
He was staring at you with his lisp pursed in confusion as you felt more tears form as you started pacing in front of him again.
You were terrified. Starting a family was a huge deal, and it took a lot of commitment, and you knew that with Aonung, you could raise a family together, but that was a fantasy you had toyed around with. Aonung would think it was too soon; you just knew it.
'He is your mate, and he will understand' your mind replayed the statement a few times when you felt like you were about to be crushed by a tsunami of doubt and indecision.
"Ma woman, you are scaring me. What is it?" His voice was soft, but you could tell by the way his hands were clenching into fists on his knee that he was worried for you.
"Aonung", you turned to him once more, letting the tears fall because you knew if you brushed them away, they would just be replaced by new ones. You wrung your hands out in each other, trying to find an outlet for your frustration.
"Promise me you won't be mad, we can talk about this, and we have plenty of options", you held out your hands in front of you to reimburse your statement with a miserable attempt at showing a strong front.
Aonung struck forward like a snake and grabbed your hands before returning to his previous posture. You felt his finger rub a circle over the back of your hand then his warm lips pressed themselves against your knuckles for a moment to let you gather yourself.
"I promise. Now tell me what happened. Has someone done something to you?" His protective flare couldn't help but be shown as your hands trembled in his.
You wanted to laugh at the awkward joke you could have made about the fact it was him who had done something to you, but you knew it was your brain trying to distract from the fear of letting the words spill into your real life because once you said these words you couldn't take them back.
"No, nothing like that…" You looked into his eyes, and everything felt so perfect at that moment, with you two basking in each other's company.
You thought back to the early days of your relationship and the nights you had spent together rendezvoused, visiting places you shouldn't have while cracking jokes. Aonung's eyes widened as you took deep breaths. Your daydreams then drifted to your daily shared glances behind people back's that had been filled with so much adoration. You couldn't stand to see that jeopardized.
"Your mother invited me to dinner tomorrow night", you felt the words claw out of your throat in battle with your mind that begged you to tell the truth but you weren't strong enough to tell him the news.
"Well, that's okay. She always does that to her students; why are you crying?" He was now utterly confused about why the dinner invite had caused such a visceral emotional outburst.
Your lips parted in bemusement as you tried to concoct a plausible reason as to why you would be so distressed.
"It was just a hard day", you slipped your hands from his grip, up his forearms, and slid onto your knees so he could hold you as you took deep breaths to get your bearings.
He pets your hair and gently shushes you while rocking back and forth. You clenched onto him and allowed yourself to be selfish for the moment, and you let his comfort about your decision to keep the secret from him wash over you.
You knew he wasn't convinced that what you said was a complete truth but he didn't push you any further on the matter, and you were very thankful for that.
You knew you would have to tell him eventually. Hiding a pregnancy could only go on for so long, but you decided you would give yourself a week to at least get yourself to a mental place where you could say the words aloud without having a fear of Aonung's rejection claw its way out.
Now all you had left to prepare your head for was dinner at Ronal and Tonowari's pod tomorrow.
The next day flew by all too quickly. The whole time, you felt Ronal's eyes on you as you rushed every chore that had to be done in her presence for fear you would crack or, worse, she would somehow sense your new medical condition.
You worked as quickly as possible, and when Ronal could find nothing left for you to do, she sent you home early and ordered you to prepare for the meal she would be hosting later that evening. So, you rushed home with the thoughts of your womb and the offering for your hosts that needed to be perfected, consuming your mind.
You brushed your hair and clipped on your finest bracelets and your most firm-fitting necklace, but nothing seemed to be able to be just right, and all you could think about was Aonung.
He had to be the first to know, it would only be fair, but you couldn't tell him, and you needed to speak with someone about it because this secret was eating you from the inside out.
"Hey", Aonung's voice made you jump, and you turned on the balls of your feet to see it was your mate, armed with his spear in hand, still damp from his hunting trip.
"What are you doing here!" You hissed as you pressed your hand against your heart, begging it to calm down.
Everything had you on edge; his presence only made your soul cry out with humiliation. He knew you were lying to him about something, yet he still tried to be there for you.
"Relax, everyone's gone home for dinner. I wanted to come to talk to you about something", he stepped further into your pod and closed the flap again, making sure you saw his eye-roll that teased your anxiety about being caught.
Your heart was beating so fast that it could have powered a storm, but you nodded with a nervous nip at your lip and allowed him to step closer to you.
Aonung's presence was consuming and sent a wave of peace over you as his touch gently caressed your face with one hand while the other slowly came to your waist and brushed against your stomach on its way to rest on your hip, which made your gaze turn white for a second as the fear swaddled you tightly.
He knew! He had to have found out from his mother. Of course, she would have known; she is Tsahik! She would have taken one look at your body and asked her son if you were mated with anybody, and Aonung would have fit two and two together.
"I want to tell my parent's about us tonight, after dinner", He slid his head into the side of your neck and kissed it softly. His sweet care for you, that often could have drowned you, was now suffocating.
"Okay", you managed to whimper out. He must know. Was it a fluke brush of his hand?
This was something he wanted, and you would do it. Maybe if you started out small with an announcement of your relationship, another announcement of a child wouldn't take such a toll on you.
"What is wrong? If you do not want to tell them, we can wait," he pulled back from you, his hands dropping to his sides. Your strange act confused him, you were always so outspoken, and he wondered why you had suddenly become so meek.
He knew something was misplaced in your relationship, and he would have left you to stew in your thoughts if it wasn't for the fact that you were starting to worry him with the way your body was handling the stress.
You had been skittish all yesterday evening, and he was worried. You seemed so pale and sickly. His mother had come up to him this afternoon and asked if he could go lightly with the playful teasing at dinner tonight as you were looking fragile, and it confined his doubts that something was grievously wrong.
"No, It's not that, I just can't tell you", you whispered, turning away from him to busy yourself with picking out a hairpiece to curl into your hair.
"You can tell me anything, ma y/n. I am your mate, and we are one", he pushed himself in front of you and grabbed your hands, so you were forced to look him in the eye.
He desperately tried to hold eye contact with you, but you shook your head and withdrew your hands from him, turning again to walk to the other side of the room.
He sighed as he felt his own fears envelop him.
"If there is somebody else… I won't keep you from him", he felt his ears flattened, and his chest heaved with panic that you might turn and accept the comment as truth, but you did no such thing.
You turned with a chuckle as you sniffed to stop the snot dribbling down your face, your arms crossed themselves tightly around your chest, and it broke his heart to see you with such a dreaded shocked look on your face.
"I am pregnant", you slammed your eyes shut, eyes only opening after a few seconds when the silence became unbearable. If they tried, the words couldn't have felt more doomed coming out of your mouth.
Aonung's jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and his ears waved back and forth as he tried to figure out if you were telling the truth. Your tears couldn't have been fake, so you must have been, but why were you so upset with this blessing?
"You-You are with my child?" It was the first time you had ever heard the warrior stutter in your years of knowing him, and you worried that it was a bad omen.
You nodded grievously before your left hand detangled from its hug and flew to your mouth, covering the orifice to stifle a sob. Aonung was unhappy, and this was your worst nightmare coming to fruition.
Aonung's shocked eyes morphed to joy as he closed the gap with a single step, one hand immediately closing around your cheek to bring his forehead to yours. At the same time, the other pressed to your side, his most extended finger storing your belly button to stroke the child-growing within you.
The shame of the predicament was killing you, but the immovable emotion boiling in your stomach was stilled as Aonung's joyous guffaw hit your cheek.
You looked up at him, wondering how he could be laughing at a time like this, but then he shocked you. Aonung pressed a peck to your head and then another and another. He peppered your face with kisses, moving across your head, cheeks, and jaw before he tossed himself down to your floor on his knees and placed a single kiss on your belly, letting his hands encase your stomach.
You were ecstatically shocked, you had been expecting to be sat down, to be asked what the plan was to empty the embryo from your womb, but he was acting even more loving than ever, if that was even possible.
"For how long? Is it healthy? Why are you so upset? Is something wrong with it", his gentle touch increased as he gazed into your stomach, feeling the worry bubble up.
"No, everything is fine, ma Aonung. I was just worried". You quickly dried your tears now, wiping your nose on the back of your wrist and your eyes with your palms.
"Worried about what?" He pressed further, his forehead creasing as he stood again to return to your height.
"I was not sure you were ready," you mumbled, returning to the familiar grounds of fear as the idea that Aonung would be away with his duties as chief in training too much to have a family right now.
"It is a big responsibility," he agreed with you, nodding, but his arms slipped around your waist, and you dug into him, letting his hold tell you that he was about to continue positively.
"But we have been blessed. Imagine how many babies Eywa will bless us with if you are pregnant now!" His eyes lit up as he realized that this quick pregnancy must be a sign of good fertility and, therefore, more children would surely be on the way before you were both old.
You laughed. The scratchiness on your crying caused it to itch, but you were so pleased. It was like someone had just taken the weight of the world off your shoulder now that you had someone to confide this secret with.
"We have never talked about children", you nervously pointed out as you slipped your hands around his slim-cut waist, fiddling with the string that kept his loincloth tied on his hip.
"Well, how many do you want?" Aonung grinned at your touch, and smugness was coming over him as he started the foundation of the plans for his new family.
"I have no idea. How many do you want?" You shook your head with a sharp exhale. Children were a lot of work, and both parents had to be prepared to put in equal work to raise and preen over them. They would all be loved, but it would take work.
"As many as you will give me!" His smile stretched from ear to ear. His tail thumped against his calf eagerly as the idea of a family between you two emerged.
"Hm, three?" You asked hesitantly. It was the number of children Ronal and Tonowari had, so maybe that was a sound system to model the base of your ideal family size on.
"Four is better, more even", Aonung shook his head, disregarding the number with a serious face. You adored how cute he looked as he discussed your future children, and it made you playful as you stood in your hut, plotting away while Ronal was probably cursing you for being late.
"Well, five is a lucky number", you suggested, an eager peek in your tone as you pushed the invisible barrier between you two that kept you both from laying your true thoughts on the table.
"But then someone will be left out. Best to make it six", Aonung's eyes lit up with tease as he hopefully glanced at your face, trying to gauge your temperature as the number increased, but you were in your element.
"Six? You want six children?" You were slightly disbelieving at the idea of six children running around your cramped pod.
"Actually, I have always liked the number ten", that you laughed at. Ten? He must have been crazy.
"Ten? You had better become the best hunter in all of Pandora if you expect me to birth ten children", the thought of your poor body was enough to send your head spinning. Still, the idea of you sitting around a small fire with a large horde of children running around with a much older Aonung kissing your face was enough to make you blush.
"Five girls and five boys, that is good, no?" He had clearly been thinking about this behind closed doors, and it was enough to cure you of any doubts forever that this man wasn't ready.
"Are you starting an army?" You joked around with a laugh, and Aonung was on cloud nine. He felt everything click back into place as you recovered your former happiness with an added glow; Eywa, Aonung questioned how he didn't see you were pregnant sooner.
Aonung sighed and rolled his eyes at your words, using his humor to keep you amused as the conversation about your future panned out before you two.
"You want to have less?" He queried, feeling out exactly how many babies you wanted your mate putting in you. He wanted a large family, as large as you could bless and Eywa could condone.
"Hm, it's best not to say. Eywa will either give me far too many or far too few if I say", it was an old wife tail your mother had told you years ago, and even though it wasn't rested in any science as Eywa took no sides, the power of the jinx held your silence.
"You know, if we were to have ten--" Aonung brought up the number again, making you laugh merrily as a hot warmth spread across your belly.
"Aonung!" You interrupted him with a shy, embarrassed outcry as the picture of a vast family filled your mind.
"I am just saying, if it were ten, you would barely have any chores. They would do them all for you!" Aonung raised his hands in defense, slyly grinning as he thought of the acts it would require to populate his dream-sized family.
"You are trying to grow an army!" Your jaw fell slack in mock shock as you slapped an arm to his chest, giggling as he quickly snatched your wrist before it could retract.
"No, if I were, then I would have stuck with thirteen", He brought your hand to his mouth and pressed it against his face to encourage you to hold his cheek, which you did agreeably.
"Hm, well, you'll have to prove yourself with this one first; you have to convince me", your words were half joking, but Aonung's eyes fell down your figure towards your stomach with a contemplative smile.
"You will see, I will be the best father, and you will want to have all my babies", his words made you blush further, but a deeper part of you lit up with desire.
Everything had gone well. The only part hindering your happy ending was sitting far across the village in her own pod with her arms crossed, cursing her son and her student's tardiness. Unsure if it was connected.
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bellezaycafe · 6 months
Text
sunsets and self doubt (and words left unspoken) - 1.
Main AO3 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, 2024 Formula 1 Season
Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )
warnings: swearing, mentions of a car accident.
comments: The revamped Get Your Shit Together is here! Let me know if you enjoy the new version :)
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Sadie had to force a deep breath through her system. The podium sitters were not going to like the news she had. The cooldown room’s walls felt a little like they were closing in on her. 
“Alright, listen up!” She called, feeling a bit like she was talking to a random club team. “The stewards have finalised the penalties and we have two drivers dropping down.”
There was a quiet chorus of curses from Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. Oscar Piastri, quiet from his third place chair, frowned.
“Lance Stroll was given two 5-second penalties for track limits. I’m told that he served one in a pit-stop, but the other took him down to 9th.” Sadie tried to give them all a gentle smile.
It might not have come across that way as she braced herself for the next one.
“Max Verstappen, you, and Pierre Gasly, were both given a 10-second penalty for overtaking under yellow flag conditions.” A small cry of outrage came from Charles Leclerc. “This was decided during your last lap and was not conveyed to your engineers in time for them to tell you.”
Max Verstappen’s face pulled into a glare of fury, while Charles Leclerc buried his face in his hands.
“What do you mean, 10-second penalty?”
Sadie hoped he didn’t explode at her during the next piece of news. She looked down at the iPad in her hands and read the standings.
“Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri and Charles Leclerc were all under ten seconds behind you, so you will now be P4.”
“What?! Are you serious?!” The world champion did explode. “Pierre overtook me and I was just taking it back!”
It had been a long weekend for Sadie. She had never been to an F1 race before, let alone volunteered at one; she knew she would be busy but she hadn’t expected to be thrust into learning something the hard way at 7 am. And again at 10. Again at 2. And now again at 4:28 pm.
“I understand that-“ She held up a placating hand, reining in a scathing reply.
“Obviously you don’t if you are giving me a penalty for -“
Sadie cut him off with a sharp laugh. “Who do you think I am, Verstappen? Huh?”
He stopped leaning towards her, something he hadn’t noticed himself doing.
She took advantage of his hesitation. “I am a volunteer. What power do you think I have to change this for you?” she spat.
A scowl appeared on his face as he began to lean in again. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Sadie saw Piastri start forward, his papaya suit around his hips. She put a hand out to stop him.
“I know who I am talking to. You are a three time world champion who will survive the depths of P4. You are Max Verstappen the reigning Champion, not Max Verstappen the upset child! Get your shit together!”
He stopped at that. All three, no four, as Lando Norris had appeared in the doorway, of the drivers did. Piastri and Leclerc looked ready to jump forward and restrain him.
Sadie saw the anger leave his eyes and said to everyone, “if you’re all sick of the FIA imposing these penalties just before interviews, maybe you should all say something. Together, as the drivers.”
It was Charles who shrugged. “If something happens in the final laps, it is fair for it to reach us after the race.”
“Yea,” Lando agreed. “But not half an hour after the chequered flag.”
All the drivers conceded that, recalling the penalties of Jeddah two weeks prior. 
“I’m going to read out your standings and you’re going to stand in that spot. Do not“ -Sadie glared at Max- “complain to me, I cannot help you.”
And read them out she did. Leclerc had won, Piastri had come a close second and Norris an even closer third. 
A few hundred metres away, and outside of the cooldown room, Verstappen silently simmered in his P4 position. When she left the room, Fernando Alonso smiled at Sadie from P5. Lewis Hamilton, in P6, held a fist out for a fist bump.
Sadie waited for her next job as the rest of the grid lined up in their order. They went out one by one and did their interviews.
Sadie sighed once they were all gone. At least, she’d thought they were all gone. Carlos Sainz, who had crashed out in lap 4, hadn’t gone out for his interviews yet.
“We all heard that. I don’t know if it was brave or stupid.”
Sadie jumped and shook her head. “I don’t know either and to be honest, I’m too tired to care. He was angry, I understand that, but my patience has been worn very thin.”
Sainz hummed thoughtfully as he left with a soft wave, red Ferrari suit right over his tensed shoulders.
Sadie pulled in a deep breath. Another volunteer told her that she was done for the day, and she gathered her gear. She’d be back in the morning to help pack down the equipment.
Sadie Leo needed some time to contemplate how she’d just yelled at Max fucking Verstappen.
--:--$--:--
“Charles!” The reporter called him over. “This is your first race of the season! How does that feel?”
“I mean,” he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “I found out in the cooldown room, we all did. I’m still shocked! I don’t know what happened with the penalty or the flags, I’m just happy to have another win!”
“You weren’t sure that you won?”
Charles laughed through his, “no!”
After a small pause he added, “I think a volunteer was given the standing from the stewards. She told us, and told some of us off for complaining.”
“We saw the beginning of an argument between an official and Max, but the feed was cut. What happened there?”
“Ah well, we are all pretty annoyed by the penalties; that safety car was twenty laps ago and we were only just being told. It is frustrating, we are all frustrated."
Oscar Piastri's interview was similar.
"That was very well done out there, Oscar. How does the P2 in your home race feel?"
"I'm still trying to process the fact that I scored a podium in my home race. It's an incredible feeling."
"You were standing here when Charles spoke about the late penalties. Do you agree with his sentiment?"
"Yeah," the Australian answered without hesitation. "Frustration is the right word for what we're all feeling."
With a nod and a thank you, he handed back the microphone and walked away.
Lando stepped up.
"Congratulations," the reporter began. "That is another double podium for McLaren, how does it feel?"
"I'm gonna be honest, undeserved. Don't get me wrong, I think I did well today and I'm proud of Oscar and our team, but I didn't cross that line in third. I don't know the full story about Max's penalty but it just seems undeserved, you know? He should have kept the win. I should be P4, not Max. The FIA needs to sort it out."
"Wow, that's a strong opinion. Will you get in trouble for saying that live?"
Lando shrugged and pursed his lips. "If I do, I do."
His PR manager pulled him away before he could say anything more incriminating.
Then Max stepped up, still fuming.
"Max," the reporter began.
"I know what you're going to ask," he interrupted. "Yes, I'm upset about the penalty. Gasly passed me under yellow flag conditions. I was told that I was allowed to take the position back. It is an unfair penalty."
"Charles told us that a volunteer told all the drivers off for complaining. Surely you have a right to complain?"
Max let out a surprised huff of laughter. "Charles is being Charles! That volunteer told me off. I blamed her for the penalty and she put me back in my place. Volunteers don't dictate penalties and can't change them."
Max shrugged and moved to hand the microphone back to the reporter. She held up a hand to ask one last question.
"Do you think the stewards should revoke the penalty?"
"Yes. They shouldn't have given me a penalty and they shouldn't have handed it out half an hour after the safety car. I think that all of the drivers are sick of being told what place we finished after the race."
"Thank you for your time, Max. It was still an incredible race."
He nodded his thanks and moved on.
It was the same reply over and over.
We are tired of the FIA handing out penalties well after the fact.
We are frustrated.
We are annoyed.
We. We. We.
Sadie never watched any of the interviews. She didn’t watch the footage from the cooldown room, in which her face is hidden but her voice is alarmingly clear. She didn't realise the impact she'd had on the drivers.
As she wiped a hand across her sweaty brow the next day, she wondered if they had said anything. She was about to ask her friend, Aurora, when a shadow fell over her.
She turned to see Max Verstappen.
"Hi?" She frowned.
"I'm sorry" he blurted, squeezing his eyes shut in mortification at his slip up.
"What?"
"About yesterday," he muttered, opening those blue eyes. "I shouldn't have tried to intimidate you."
Sadie laughed and put down the tent peg she'd been using to remove other tent pegs. "The key word there is tried."
Max smiled at her laughter. He chuckled a little and stared down at his feet in the dirt.
"But," Sadie continued, "thank you for apologising. I didn't take it to heart. You’re trying to break records. Yesterday, something probably slipped through your fingers and it made you angry. I know, so it's okay."
Max's eyes widened at her nonchalant statement about his motivation.
"What?" she asked impatiently. "I figured out your goal? It wasn't hard, Verstappen."
"No, it's not that."
"What, then?"
"You had already forgiven me?"
"Yes, I forgave you the moment you left the room. You were angry and that was your response to the anger."
"That doesn't make it okay," he pressed. He didn't know why he was pushing her, she’d already forgiven him.
"Which is why you will never do it again." She pointed a dangerous finger at his face.
"Okay," he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.
"Good. Now I’ve got things to do and you probably have somewhere you have to be.” Sadie pointed at the gazebo and then the bag it belonged to.
“Right, yes. I have a flight in a few hours, so I need to get to the airport. Have a great day, yeah? It was amazing to meet you.” He stepped backwards, with a thumbs up.
“It was an honour to meet you too Max Verstappen. Never forget who you are.”
Max had to take a deep breath as he strode away.
Never forget who you are.
You are Max Verstappen the world champion, not Max Verstappen the upset child.
He made a promise to himself then, and to Sadie, that he would hold himself to a higher standard. He could be better, he should be better, he would be better.
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elfqueen006 · 9 months
Text
Varsity Blue, Yellow, and Red
Sunny Day Jack x Reader
CW/Tags: drinking, harassment but light, possession, college au
---
You’d only taken a small sip and within minutes were bracing yourself against the wall. Yep. The punch was spiked. Booze was already present at the afterparty, you knew. The air stank of alcohol at every turn. You didn’t even have to glance at people’s cups to know they were in the process of getting wasted. Hell, many others carried whole bottles of aged wine and beer, taking the contents straight to the head. So it was only a matter of time before someone dumped their entire stock into the punch bowl.
You sip your drink again. It wasn’t as strong as the first. Though, maybe the effects of the alcohol were relaxing your mind, making you less sensitive to it. It didn’t taste awful at least. The cherry punch was to thank for that. It left a kind of sour aftertaste rather than the pungent bitterness that assaulted your senses.
You then shrug and continue to nurse your drink, scoping the scene like the wallflower you were meant to be.
Fryer State had won its final game of the semester. And it was decided that the afterparty would be held inside the apartment of one of your schools’ football players. Pizza and drinks alike were already provided. Though there was the unspoken rule that those who didn’t trust the system provided, brought their own. A rule you forgot, much to your dismay.  You’d meant to bring bottled water and have some pizza, but you’d left it in your fridge all the way back at your dorm. But you pretended not to, for no reason in particular.
It was an honest mistake after all, and so long as you didn’t overdo it, you were a-okay!
Still, aside from being pushed up in a corner like a rat from its hidey hole, you couldn’t help but feel like you were on the outside looking in. All because of the single thought continuously running through your mind: “They don’t know I’m being haunted by a ghost clown.”
Jack stood beside you, bobbing his head offbeat to the music blaring over the radio. “I didn’t know people still carried boomboxes!” He said.
“Just those that have a lot of parties, or listen to a lot of music.” You muttered into your cup. It comforted you that people still owned CD radios. Your parents used to have one in the house when you were a kid. But since converting a lot to streaming, they’d eventually gotten a bluetooth speaker. Which was cool and all, but it was refreshing to revert back to old times.
“What do you think of my new look, Sunshine?” Jack popped the collar of his newly styled letterman jacket. It had the traditional colors of his original vest, though the material was slightly altered to fit a varsity theme and decorated with patches of the sun, bunnies, and his initials of S, D, and J – all that he manifested out of thin air as soon as you made it to the apartment.
“You look good. Big man on campus.” You said.
A guy looked over at you, “Huh?” You waved him off, then decided to pop in your earbuds. The go to method when talking to Jack in public so you didn’t look like a crazy person. The party was loud, but somebody was bound to hear.
“Maybe you should go to a different corner?” Jack asked.
You shrugged, “Nah, I’m chillin’.”
“Keep your guard up, sunshine. I want you to enjoy yourself, but these parties are notorious for debauched activity.” Jack said. “You don’t want to find yourself swept up in the chaos.”
You almost wished you could agree. The college scene wasn’t anything like the movies portrayed it; there were no frat parties every night, no hot professors, the athletes weren’t chasing cheerleaders by their skirts, and there weren’t any cliques. Well, the cliques thing was still kind of a thing. There were a lot of attractive people who hung out with each other. People in the same Greek houses hung in the same circles. You even hung out with a group for a while before being … well, for lack of a better term, moved out.
It might’ve very well been your first experience with college bullying! It was fast and somewhat sobering in figuring out who to really trust. But you were on your own for a while, so after that, campus life became notably dull…
Shaking off the melancholic haze you mutter, “I’ll be fine.”
You could see Jack’s concerned look in the corner of your eye as he tilted his head like a lost puppy dog. You hid your loneliness well under the nonchalant body language. But Jack could see how distant you were at that moment. The way your eyes longingly followed the laughter, gossip, and raunchy party games… It was heartbreaking. 
Truthfully, Jack had wanted you to stay in with him tonight while you two binged Christmas movies. But you’d wanted to end the semester by going outside your comfort zone. And yet here you were, plastered to the wall.
Finally, after mulling it over, he nudged you lightly. You look up at him, lightly touching your earpiece.
He points to the group of jocks and cheerleaders over at a table. They’re playing beer pong. “That seems fun! Why don’t you head over and try your luck?”
Your brows raised, “Really?”
He smiled with a shrug, “Sure, why not?”
You hesitated, looking between the group and your friend. “But what about you?”
“I’ll be right there! In fact, consider me your official spotter!”
A grin breaks out on your face. You were actually afraid that Jack wouldn’t like you hanging out with people here. You knew he was looking out for your best interest, but a lot of times when he managed to pry you away from others, he was notably clingy and almost came off like an overprotective mother.
You were grateful he was being this considerate despite himself.
You wasted no time, downing the rest of your drink and rushing over to the group of athletes.
It was only the third. Round. How could you be tipsy already on the third round!
Jack’s nerves were hanging on by a thread as a random guy came up behind you to hold your shoulders, presumably to steady you. But he could swear that if he looked close enough his thumbs were caressing you ever so tenderly as he leaned in and whispered to you. Processing his words, you double over in laughter. The jock wraps his arms around your torso, following you in laughter as he pulls you close.
“Cash, what’d you tell that girl?” A cheerleader on the couch asked.
Cash rolled his eyes, “There’s a reason I whispered it, nosey.” He placed his head on your shoulder, leaning in next to your ear, “Isn’t that right, baby?”
“Baby?” Jack exclaimed. 
You then waved to your unseen friend, “Heyyy, Jack!” you said, “I forgot you were there.”
The spectators chortled in response.
“Oh hell no, this bitch is trippin’!”
“She’s drunk as hell!”
Your sudden outburst didn't hinder Cash one bit; the young man's hands trailing up your shirt, rubbing your stomach in a circular motion that made you hum in contentment. The scene made Jack fume, and the phantom sound of what would've been his heart was ringing in his ears. It was so clear what Cash was intending to do, and yet nobody was stopping it. In fact, they looked on in interest, as if the jock were putting on a private show to see just how far he'd go.
No longer able - nor willing - to stand by. Jack marched up to your body. His influence swiftly sobering you.
You straightened up and stretched out your limbs, the joints popping. You wriggle out of Cashs’ grip. “I gotta go, it's getting late.” It sounded odd, Jack using your voice. It was surely yours, but it had more projection and pep than your usual tone.
The man grabbed your wrist, “Late?” he scoffed, “It's not even past midnight.”
You turn and give him a curt smile, “I have finals tomorrow. You understand, right?”
"Baby-”
“Don't call me that.”
“-Can't you stay for one more round?”
You hum, glancing over at the arrangement of cups. You then tip the table slightly, knocking them all down. There's cries of protest and curses from the people on the couch, and some spectators watch on in intrigue.
Cash furrows his brows, “What the fuck did you do that for!?”
“If you can rearrange those before I get to the door, I might stay another round. Otherwise, goodbye.” You said, beaming.
Jack was worn out from using your body. But he thankfully had enough energy to get you to dorms, wash you and put on your pajamas before getting you into bed.
Finally getting to his own, he flopped down on the bed, sighing in exhaustion. He then glanced over at your sleeping form. You were really out. He expected some light stirring or bleariness after leaving your body but you were still as a brick. Breathing, thankfully, but otherwise undisturbed. 
It probably wasn't a good idea to provoke them like that. But from what he could tell, most of the people at that party were seniors. They wouldn't be here next year to harass you, thankfully. 
Jack shuffled up the bed, next to you. He hugged you close to his chest and threw an arm over your torso. “You partied too hard, but thankfully we got you to the dorms safely.” He muttered into your ear.
That's what he'd tell you when you woke up. And it was mostly true. But it's not like you could blame him for doing what he did. You would've been in a lot of trouble if he just stood by.
Honestly, what would you do without him?
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jamesunderwater · 5 months
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I think it’s honestly more realistic for the trio to give up on their revolutionary/anti-authoritarian ideals and work for the government as adults(I think generation wise, while they might technically be gen x they have much more in common with the boomers). The thing is, Harry Potter is a fantasy series. The characters could tear down the system and make a new, less corrupt government so easily, but they don’t because Jkr is a neo-liberal:/
I thought about that as I was writing the tags -- is it actually out of character for the trio to join the Ministry? And I ended up only saying something about Harry because I think it makes total sense that Hermione would be the type to try and "change the system from within" and I think Ron probably retains some faith in the Ministry because of his dad + would see it as a means to have financial stability (plus just the thrill & notoriety of being an Auror).
But Harry, see, this is what depresses me about the fact that you're right. Because I entirely blame JKR for the fact that it does feel realistic for Harry to eventually have decided to be an Auror. It's her lazy writing and lack of focus on the macro levels of the society she's created that leave room for us to believe that, sure, maybe Harry just saw being an Auror as an obvious path to continue helping people in the way he's best at, and sure, maybe Hermione convinces him they really can change things from the inside. Sure.
But in the hands of a better writer and someone with actual revolutionary ideas (not to mention a soul), Harry's character traits of naturally distrusting people in power, being absolutely incapable of going along with the program, and unwilling to let the tiniest injustices go, plus the fact that he's spent the formative years of his life witnessing the heart of the Ministry's corruption firsthand, would make him the PERFECT character to say fuck that, I refuse to accept that this is the the system we all have to live under. Which is why I said in the tags that Harry James Potter wouldn't let a Ministry man tell him what to do -- because my Harry James Potter never would (just like my Sirius Black would never have confused Harry with James, but that's another issue).
Which is all to say, I agree with you -- it's a fantasy novel, for fuck's sake. A more talented writer with an actual moral compass would have done SO MUCH more with this world JKR threw together, as evidenced by the incredible fanfiction so many people write that far surpasses the original media. Comparing HP with other YA and/or fantasy series like The Hunger Games or The Lord of The Rings really puts into perspective the things JKR didn't address in the books, and what that says about her as a person. (Though at this point she has made it clear all on her own.)
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sophieinwonderland · 4 months
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i dont think i really get the whole x-punk thing. like for some, yes, its a form of self expression... but also just... use the word punk?
i get a new tag sort of but everyones arguing on whats REALLY punk, and i think many punks wouldn't waste their time arguing about whos excluded from the punk label and would instead, you know, fight for what they think is right in ways that would change things? just going "ew endos bad and fake and not REAL systems" doesnt change the fact that even disordered DID/OSDD systems still need acceptance and to be understood and helped and not be treated as some super rare basically impossible thing that .0001 percent of the population has. maybe correcting people from using "multiple personality disorder" or starting a DID/OSDD support group in your community might be a start.
but all these anti endos just want to have the label systempunk to sound cool while still being exclusive and spending their time arguing against "the endos" because they're "making doctors not listen to us" when newsflash, the doctors are already ableists, and you need to help educate them instead of yelling at other victims. but okay
i swear some of the x-punk things just sound like it's cool and exclusive for only certain punks and all they care about is appearance. looking like a punk and poorly playing the part i guess.
I agree with most of this, but I actually really love the idea behind the x-punk labels.
As I understand, this started with cripplepunk, which is centered around applying punk values to disability pride, rejecting ableist societal ideals that expect people with disabilities to behave one way to be deserving of support, while celebrating individuality and pride in who you are.
Terms like madpunk and neuropunk sprung out of that for neurodiverges.
I know there's debate over whether cripplepunk should be exclusive to people with physical disabilities or if it should be an umbrella for all disabilities, and that sort of gatekeeping can breed toxicity between communities that are both victims of ableism and should be seeking solidarity.
But whatever your stance on that debate is, I do feel these labels are important for people in these groups looking to take pride in who they are and reject both systemic ableism and internalized ableism. Because cripplepunk and its offshoots are more than the sum of their parts. It's more than just punk and it's more than just disability pride.
The problem with Systempunk
With systempunk, anti-endos took a look at an already punk community, Pluralpunk, and decided to make something that was less punk.
Their view of systemhood is based purely on what they perceive as the medical model of systemhood, or what their friends say that is. Anything that doesn't conform to that is bad.
And their values aren't based on fighting against an ablesist society or psychiatry or anything of the sort. No, because to them, the real problem is this other group of plurals and so-called "fakers".
And their problem with pluralpunk was that it was too individualistic.
It celebrated people who were too different and too weird.
It was fundamentally too punk for them.
So anyway, yeah. I like a lot of other types of x-punk labels. I don’t like ones that try to strip away the punk from them though, and are only interested in using punk as an aesthetic.
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