#50 shades of did we watch the same fucking show

[vaaaaaiolet]

the state of some spencer reid fic

[mrs-monaghan]

the way this fandom have trouble with ANYTHING jimin related is sickening. First, the obvious mistreatment with all of jm's releases. Then, we have "ot7s" accusing focused jimin accs of being solos. When jm's fanbases organizes streaming parties and recomebacks, its hell on twitter. Now, that person who was the guide for the jimin tour on that harry potter place is being accused of being a tae anti. Why the hell people started to search her tweets about tae in the first place, even tho she has the little seven on her dn? Just because she saw jm and said he is the most precious human being? Btw, her tweets about tae werent problematic at all. She just metioned things that TAE DID, like his paris date with jennie. Some "ot7" started to say she was tae anti and boom, people believed it and taes solos started to send death threats to the poor girl. Just because she was saying that we should normalize the members being treated as the grown man they r, men that can make their own decisions. ADULT decisions. If she had been a guide to any other member, i wonder, would she receive this hate?

What the fuck is wrong with this fandom. Why, even the "ot7", have such a big problem with jimin? I really dont get it. I dont think its a exaggeration anymore when we say that the only real ot7s r the ones that have jimin as bias. When we see fake ot7, always is someone who have other members as bias, and that shades jimin. On the other hand, more and more we have jimin biased army becoming solos because of all this hate he receives. And i dont judge them. I mean, i dont like solos, but i can understand the urge to defende jimin of everything and everyone, because, in the reality, we can't even trust the people on our own fandom. This solo bts era is a mess, and i'm so sick of all of this. I'm happy members r happy discovering who they r as individuals, and i'm loving what they r showing to us. But i'm afraid this fandom is worse and worse everyday.

I remember when this lady got attacked. Best believe me and my friends were right there backing her up among other people who were doing the same. She got many DMs all telling her to kill herself simply because she said V is an adult and can smoke if he wants to. Their real issue was that she met Jimin and praised him for being the beautiful, kind human that he is.

This is why this discord is important. More people need supporters in their corner. When 50 tkkrs are attacking you it can be overwhelming and that's why people leave twitter. But if you have other people fighting them off and encouraging you to stay and block them, it can make someone feel better about having people in their corner.

This girl had back up and she's strong so she stayed. The vermin are the scam of the earth. And I for one I'm done watching them ran havoc and get away with it. My friends and I have been fighting them for months and we will continue to do so with or without people's support.

Of course it would be nice if more people joined us but if you let these big tumblrs get in your head just because, then things will continue like they have been and what good has that done? You can yap about Jimin abuse all day. You can shout at the rooftops about JK being used as a shipping tool by tkkrs. You can cry all day about Jkkrs getting attacked and ran out. And u can complain about ot7 accounts being tkkrs that allow Jimin to get dragged. But if you're not doing anything about it then what good does that do?

For everyone who has something to say about what we are doing; If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem. You can deal with things your way, that's fine. But if u don't want to join the fight then keep it moving. If you don't want anything to do with this then just, let, us, be.

Anyway anon. Chapter 2 has been a fucking mess. Makes me wonder what will happen when all of the Tannies enlist and the fandom is left without supervision. Then what?

Discord still here. All welcome.

[a-christmas-carol-from-hr]

the ballad of five thousand, eight hundred and fourty days

alternative title: a boy, a girl, and open grave

tw: major character death, alchohol use, m*scarriage

an: "for...years, this year, and this, and this, and this, I did not love him. And then I did. Then I was his. I can count the days I was his in hundreds...In all one thousand days. Just a thousand. strange. And of those thousand, one when we were both in love, only one, when our loves met and overlapped and were both mine and his.” -anne of the thousand days

================================================

"Harry Jorkins." She said, not without some rue.

"He gave you your second job, after you left Fezziwig's, ja?"

Ellen snorted. "'Job'? Indentured servitude is more like it." Her usual mask of cold calm had melted when the image of her past boss had come into sight. For once, Scrooge seemed to be legitimately outraged.

"I hated that man. He was slime." She muttered. "Pure slime."

"Some would say the same about you."

"Then they never met Harry Jorkins. If you want to clasp me in chains for my deeds, I should hate to see what Jorkins carries. The man was never any good."

It certainly didn't look it from what the pair saw. Mr. Jorkins, a fastidiously dressed man of about 50, led the younger Ellen down a hallway. Even though mere months had passed between the Ellen they'd left at Fezziwig's and the Ellen that stood here now, life had altered her. Her hair had gone entirely silver. Where semblance of warmth had lingered in her form, this Ellen had already frozen as cold as her current self. The frost of time had settled into her bones and bearing, keeping her stiff and awkward as Jorkins showed her around the office.

She was only twenty seven.

"And here's where the other programmers work!" He said. "There's my office. My clerk's in there somewhere. Ask him if you have any problems. I'm sure he'd show you a good time!" The man gwaffed at his own joke as he slapped the younger Ellen hard on the shoulder. She smiled thinly, barely disguised malice already creeping into her eyes.

"Ugh." Scrooge groaned. "Just seeing that makes me want to shower."

"Touchy with the staff?"

"You have no idea. He'd say the most disgusting things about the female staff. Never about me. Wasn't pretty enough to fuck, I guess." She ground her teeth. "Why are you showing me this? I refuse to believe I'm as bad as him. If you knew half the things I know about him-."

"He's not the thing I'm interested in," The spirit remarked. "Do you really not remember this day?"

"Hard to forget. This is my first day of work."

"Ja. But..."

Time shifted again, if only by a few hours. Closing time. The Past Ellen got to her feet, gathered her things, and headed out. They followed her down the street towards the subway station. The damp darkness of the tube hadn't changed in the twenty plus years since this December. The past Ellen stood waiting for her train, checking her watch with a growing displeasure.

A sickening laugh from the stairwell announced Jorkins's presence. The past Ellen scowled and moved away as he and his clerk stepped onto the platform. Jorkins didn't even spare her a glance.

But the clerk did.

Jorkin's clerk was a young man about Ellen's age. He was pale and thin, with a hungry look in his eyes and face that showed good food wasn't a constant in his life. Even still he took great pains to look nice, even with his obvious poverty. He wore a good suit that was a year or two out of date. He was handsome, in a sharp sort of way.

A blast of wind shuffled the platform as another train barreled by. The past Ellen's scarf blew, attracting the clerk's attention. His eyes were a light shade of grey, and they glanced at Ellen behind a pair of thick square glasses.

He looked away, and then looked back at her, as if doing a double take.

"This was where you met." The spirit said.

"...No. No, that's not-." Scrooge's face showed genuine confusion. "That's not how- I didn't meet him for-"

"And yet, he just met you." The ghost said with a smile. The clerk was still looking at her.

"No, that's not- that’s not how I remember it."

"That may be, Frau. But it happened all the same. Perhaps your memory isn’t infallible."

The thought terrified Scrooge.

The ghost sighed, happily, as he glanced between her past self and the skinny clerk.

"If you'll forgive the therapeutic transference, these are my favorite moments. Things in your past can affect you that you don't remember, or even know. Something can happen a world away before you're even born, or a choice can butterfly out into your world that you never knew about. Sometimes, what we remember and what we can control are two different things, Mein Frau. And sometimes?"

He gestured at the younger her, and the clerk.

"It’s the old story, isn’t it? Sometimes, even in a place like London, things just happen. Even two old sinners. It’s the old story. Boy meets girl.”

The train came tearing down the tunnel, and with the wind and noise it brought with it another memory. The office returned, along with her younger self. She sat at her desk, arms deep in a Power Macintosh 8500’s innards. The sound of Jorkin's awful laughter rang out as he passed by the hallway, surrounded by a flotilla of sycophants. He glanced at the younger Scrooge once before bursting into laughter again. Scrooge didn't need to be close to know he was plastered. He often was. The man took martini lunches as an all-day buffet.

He whispered something conspiratorially to one of his companions and they burst into laughter. "Damn girl works like a canary in a coal mine. She'll only stop when she keels over!" The metaphor was perhaps a trifle mixed up, but Jorkins thought it was clever. He and the others went off cackling as the past Scrooge simply scowled and continued to work.

"He was embezzling."

The spirit looked up to Scrooge as she broke the silence. She was intently watching her past self. "Oh, ja?"

"Say what you want of me, but I've never done that. I never wanted to be like him." She watched as the younger Scrooge glanced at the door before opening a drawer in her desk. She removed a file and placed it beside her gutted Power Macintosh 8500.

"That is true. For your many crimes, nothing illegal has ever been among them. Your sin is apathy, not malice."

"I never wanted to be like him." She repeated. "I thought I was the only one that noticed."

"Were you?" The spirit asked.

The door to the office creaked open. The past Scrooge glanced up, a startled look on her face. Scrooge herself didn't need to. She knew who would be there.

It was Jorkin's clerk. The pale, dark-haired young man who was so good with advertisements. The one who walked in his shadow every day. He was looking at the past Scrooge with an inscrutable expression. He had the same lean and hungry look as she did.

The younger Scrooge’s expression shifted from alarm to a familiar look of firm control. Even if she didn’t feel brave, she showed it. The clerk studied her. He was always smiling around the boss. He stood at his side, enduring slight after slight with a perfect smile. He wasn't smiling now.

The two stared at each other like two lions sizing the other up.

Finally, he seemed to make up his mind. He moved towards her desk with a file folder in hand.

"This might help your number-running." He said, but he didn't offer it right away. He seemed curious about her response.

She studied him with a frozen look. "Why?" She asked. "Why do you care?"

"Because I hate him." He said simply. "Why do you care?"

"Because I hate him."

"There's something we can agree on, at least." He offered the file, and then he smiled. Truly smiled. It was crooked, and seeped in revenge, but she still found it charming.

The younger Scrooge’s head tilted ever so slightly, and she took the file.

"Jacob Marley."

"Ellen Scrooge."

“You two brought him down, in time.” The spirit remarks. “Not publicly, of course. That would have been difficult. Who would have taken you seriously. But over time, over the years, you did what you do best. You worked. You kept at it. And eventually a dossier was given to the right person, and Jorkins was exposed.”

A modicum of pride burst in her chest. “Yes.”

“You two crept out from the fallout with enough money to go into business together. The millennium dawned and Scrooge and Marley INC dawned with it.”

The world changed again. Time danced forward, days melting into nights melting into days. Scrooge was aware, somehow, that the years had shifted again. Not so far, but further all the same.

The room transformed. A cold study became warm, the walls shifting into the light openness of a fancy hotel room. A place too expensive for Scrooge’s blood, but her Chinese associates would pay to put visitors up here. She knew it immediately. And knew it well. Far too well.

“Beijing, 2000.” The Ghost said, checking his watch. “Christmas Eve, if I’m not mistaken. And I never am.”

“What’s the significance?” Scrooge asked. “Why are you showing me this?”

The sound of a door slamming open served as an answer. It was herself again. A little older. A little thinner. And quite, quite drunk. Somehow Scrooge could taste this long forgotten wine as she watched her past self stumble into the room. The other Scrooge had been wearing a very sensible business dress, but the shoulder was beginning to slip, showing off just a sliver of pale flesh. Her hair was beginning to slip from a tight bun, and her stocking had a tear in it.

She was laughing.

Her laughter was joined by a deep tenor laugh, a laugh that sliced through Scrooge’s heart like a knife.

“Oh, spirit.” She said, so quietly it could barely be heard. “Do not make me see this.”

“Why?” The spirit asked. “This is a happy memory, ja?”

Behind the past Scrooge stood Jacob Marley. A little older than the one they’d just seen. His brown hair had more strands of silver than before. But he laughed with her. He was not a creature built to laugh, but his smile seemed to fill his whole face as he laughed, as drunk as Scrooge. She’d forgotten how vast his smile could be. It’d been crooked. Like it wasn’t quite set right. Like he wasn’t used to smiling and meaning it. How could she have forgotten he had a crooked smile?

They were laughing at a forgotten joke. Marley was holding a bottle of cheap wine, although it was no doubt not their first.

“It was the champagne at the dinner.” Scrooge said, remembering. “They served Krug. Marley liked Krug. He liked anything he didn’t have to pay for. I would have never bought it. The staff kept refilling our glasses at the behest of our hosts.”

“We were already drunk by the time we left. I don’t know where we found the wine. It was the cheapest we could get. We’d drunk at least another bottle before we got back to the hotel.” She said.

“A celebration?” The ghost asked.

“Business was good. This was only our first year working together independently.” Scrooge explained. “We were-.”

“Happy?” The ghost asked.

“Mollified.”

“Hm.” The past Scrooge caught sight of herself in the mirror and began to laugh at herself. Marley, having no idea what was so funny, laughed too. The past Scrooge tried to take off one of her shoes but lost her balance. She toppled against the bed. Marley, made gallant by intoxication, made a show of trying to help her up from the floor. He quickly realized he was far too drunk for that so he sat down next to her. He offered her another swig of wine, and she took it with grace.

“You two were close.” The ghost prompted.

Scrooge simply watched. Her past self was having a conversation with her partner. It was evidently very important to her, given her expression.

“So that…that is why we must…” She started.

“We must what?” Marley asked.

“...I’ve forgotten.” The pair looked at each other and then broke into another fit of giggles. They leaned against each other, arms intertwined as they sat on the floor.

“He was your partner.” The ghost said. “Here you two are. Not so young but not so old.”

“And drunk.” Scrooge replied. “We were being foolish. Idiotic.”

The younger Scrooge regained her bearings enough to stand. But she quickly fell backwards on the bed, giggling all the while. Marley, not wanting to be left behind, awkwardly shambled up the side.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asked.

“Do.”

“I don’t think I can move.” He admitted. “I am very, very drunk.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” The younger Scrooge asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I can either.”

They lapsed into giggles again, moving ever closer. After a few moments the laughter stopped. The room grew quiet as they simply looked at each other. A tension seemed to build, tangible enough for spirit and shade alike to feel. Scrooge didn’t want to see what happened next. She knew it, of course. She kept it locked away, deep inside her mind, with the other things that stung too much to remember.

“You’re so beautiful.” Marley said, voice little more than a whisper. His tone was wine-soaked, but still awed.

“...Nobody’s ever told me that before.” The past Scrooge murmured.

The two looked at each other, heads close enough to touch noses. Despite the wine, despite who they were, despite their greed and their pride and their avarice, in this moment they only had eyes for each other.

When they kissed it was a surprise to no one.

"No more." Scrooge said. She tried to be firm, but her voice wavered. "I don't want to see anymore."

"Frau," The spirit said in a voice both gentle and firm. "This is your past. It's all happened before. It can't hurt you."

Liar. Liar. All the past did was hurt her. Everything she'd seen hurt her. That's why she didn't think about it. Let her put it back in the boxes. Mom, Farah, Jacob. Let her put them away, in their neat little boxes in their neat little graves. Let it stop. Please.

"I don't understand it," The ghost said. "Your chains were in the making. You'd already forged more than one link. But here, you are happy. You and him are happy. You could have been happy." He looked at her, those golden eyes unreadable. "Why did you not let yourself be happy?"

"I don't know. I don't know. No more."

"What happened to you that was so awful, Ellen?"

Time moved forward. The two on the bed vanished, and the room grew dark. But they stayed in the same location. A digital alarm clock declared it to be eight years later.

Ellen tried to speak, but nothing came out.

The door opened and Marley entered. A little older. A little greyer. He was staring at a phone while carrying a plastic bag.

“Scrooge?” He called out. “I’m back. I have what you asked me to get.”

There was no response. He put the plastic bag on the bed and began to take off his coat. He paused as he evidently heard something. Spirit and Scrooge alike heard it too after a moment. Somebody was retching in the hotel bathroom.

“Ellen?” Marley asked. His tone was more concerned than most thought he could be.

When the only response was more retching, he moved towards the bathroom door. He knocked once, but it opened at his touch.

Another Scrooge could be seen, head pressed against the sink. “Did you even keep the dramamine down?” Marley asked.

“No. No, I didn’t.” Scrooge said, not moving from her pose. Marley looked as if he wanted to say something, perhaps something comforting, but thought better of it.

“This…you’ve been sick for over two weeks.” He said. “You really should see a doctor. Who knows what the problem is.”

“I do.” Scrooge replied. “I know exactly what the problem is.”

She finally looked up at him. And somehow, he knew exactly what she meant.

“...Shit.” He breathed.

Scrooge turned away. “I’m not looking at this any longer.”

“What are you so afraid of feeling?” The spirit asked. “This is long past, mein frau. Long gone. It has all happened before, like I said.”

“I KNOW what it is.” She hisses, venom seeping into every word. “Do you honestly think I don’t! Do you think I’ve managed to forget one of the worst things that ever happened to me!?”

“No, I don’t.” The spirit responded. “I think you think about it every day. I think that is part of the problem.”

The room dimmed. When the lights returned, they were in another place. They were in a bedroom in the very apartment Scrooge lived in now. Scrooge kept her back turned. She knew what she’d see. She’d lived what she’d seen.

“I won’t turn around.” She said and she hated how weak she sounded. Like a petulant child. But it didn’t matter. The room seemed to turn, and she came face to face with her past anyway.

The past Scrooge lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. She was pale, her skin clammy. She had the same blank, empty expression she had worn when she was twenty-seven, the same look Farah had worn, the same look her mother had worn. An inherited grief passed down from woman to woman. A pillow was pressed to her stomach.

"It happened again." The spirit says.

"And so what if it did?" It comes out a snarl. Her anger had long been chained and it came roaring out of its cage, like a wounded lioness.

"Are you going to tell me this is my fault!? That losing them - it - was my fault? It was nothing." She snarls. "Barely anything. A fluke. A trick of the light. An error that was corrected. Are you going to stand here and tell me this was my fault too!?"

The spirit stared at her. The light of his eyes was piercing.

"No. I'm not." He responded. "The loss wasn't your fault, Ellen. Why do you think it was?"

Her anger blew out of her like an extinguished candle. All she could do was look at herself, her younger self, lying in that bed. Eyes unseeing.

"It isn't a crime that you wanted it." The spirit said, barely loud enough to hear. "It isn't a sin that you hoped. That you were happy about it, even under your shell. You have to stop punishing yourself for wanting it."

A door opened somewhere in the apartment. She heard the jingle of keys. Scrooge moved past the bedroom and into the hall.

Marley stood there. He was speaking animatedly to somebody on the phone. He smiled as he talked, his tone light and airy. But the moment he hung up, his face fell.

He suddenly looked very, very tired.

The past Marley tossed his coat over a chair and left his briefcase over the chair. He unpacked what looked like a take-away before glancing at the open door to the bedroom. He stared at it for a moment before walking into the room. He stood in the doorway, looking at his partner.

For a moment it looked like he was going to say something. But the past Scrooge went stiff. Pretended she was asleep. Marley hesitated for a moment before turning and leaving the room. Whatever he was going to say went unsaid.

The past Marley moved past her, his back to the other Scrooge. He walked into the hallway. Ellen followed in his footsteps, eyes fixed on his back. He made it four steps out of sight before stopping. He seemed to stumble. He reached out a hand to the wall and pressed, hard. His hand clenched into a trembling fist.

She couldn't see his face. But somehow she knew he was in pain. His breathing was heavy and strange. Like he was trying to repress tears.

"He wanted it too, Ellen." The spirit said quietly.

Scrooge drew in a pained breath. She tried to speak, but the lump in her throne wouldn’t let her. “Oh, spirit.” She said after a moment. “Are we almost at an end?”

“We’re coming near it.”

And then they were in her office. The same office she’d left earlier today, her throne in Canary Wharf. The Scrooge they saw now was almost the same as the Scrooge she was now. Perhaps only a few years younger, perhaps only a few degrees warmer. She was gathering a pile of files in her office.

“Roberta!” She yelled. “CRATCHIT!”

The sound of footsteps outside her door made her look up, but she looked back down when she saw who it was. “Oh, it’s you.”

Marley stood before her. As old as he’d ever be.

“...Please. Please, don’t.” Scrooge whispered. But the Spirit gave no sign he even heard her beg.

“Are you sure you can handle Los Angeles on your own?” She asked as she shoved papers into a file folder. Marley snorted.

“They won’t even know what hit them.”

“Good. They deserve it. God, I’m so late. She scheduled me for the 5 PM flight to Beijing, the blasted fool.” Scrooge finished gathering what she needed. “I’ll be back in the New Year. Let me know what they’re thinking.”

“Will do.” Marley said. Scrooge placed the file into a briefcase and moved past him.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

“Look back.”

The spirit glanced at his companion as Scrooge, the real Scrooge, stepped forward. She had begun to follow her past self.

“Look back at him, you fool.” Scrooge said, falling into step besides her past self. “Look back! Why don’t you look back at him!”

She turned to look back now. Marley was watching her leave. For all his faults, he never took his eyes off her.

“Just look back, for God’s sake. Just look! That’s all you have to do!” She stepped in front of her predecessor, as if physically going to stop her. She even reached out, as if to force her to look. Tears flowed down her face, unnoticed and unstopped. Her face was contorted in rage and grief.

“This is the last time you’re ever going to see him!” Scrooge howled. “WHY DON’T YOU LOOK AT HIM.”

The past Scrooge never turned around. She moved into the stairwell, out of sight of Jacob Marley, and was gone.

The Scrooge that was left behind, the Scrooge that was the sum of all the others’ choices, fell to her knees.

“I never even looked back at him.” She whispered. “And then he was gone. And I never even looked back.”

“You never even looked back.” The spirit replied.

The world shifted once more.

They were outside a hospital now. One of the local ones near Canary Wharf. It was Christmas Eve. Doctors bustled in and out, the holiday seeming not to reach them as they focused on their duty. They stood by the doors, looking out at the sea of people.

The door opened, and through them walked Bellamy Fezziwig. Older, and tired, but happy. So happy. He pulled out a cell phone as he walked.

“Dad?” He said, stopping to laugh. “It’s a girl.”

Scrooge recoiled as if physically struck.

“Yup, a girl! Tell the other kids they’ve got a new baby sister! Nora’s good, she’s good, everyone’s great. God, a Christmas baby! Can you believe it! I- hang on, Dad, there’s an ambulance.”

Bellamy stepped out of the way. An ambulance pulled up. The sirens were not on. The paramedics were unfussed as they strolled to the back. Why would they be? When the doors opened, and Scrooge saw what was inside, she understood in one horrible moment.

She let out a wordless cry.

The paramedics pulled the shrouded body out from the back of the ambulance. They loaded the body onto a gurney and began to wheel it into the hospital. Bellamy gave it a brief, pitying look before continuing with his conversation. A jostling from the wheel disturbed a hand, which fell limp over the side. Scrooge knew that hand.

“One for the maternity ward. One for the morgue.” The spirit said. “You were with neither when it happened.”

She tried to speak. Tried to say something. Anything. She was good at biting remarks. She could cut him down. Put him in his place. But she had nothing to say.

“Did you feel anything when you left him behind, Ellen?” He asked quietly. “Did you think of anything but practicalities when you took his furniture and his apartment, consigning what remained of his remains to boxes in closets? Did you even once think about what you were burying? Jacob Marley was your only friend. Jacob Marley was the only one left who cared for you. And you left him. Here. Alone.”

“You knew him for sixteen years. You spent five thousand, eight hundred and fourty days with him. You laughed and schemed and fought and lived. You both felt something you could never say. But it was there. And when he died, you left him here. In the morgue, all alone.”

“This was the sum of his life. This was the sum of your life, together. A man in an icebox. A body in a cremator. And a cold, rotting heart locked in a woman’s shell.”

The light of his eyes was blinding.

“Look at your face, Ellen. A face of a wrenching, grasping, scraping, covetous old sinner.”

[williammr01]

So here’s my initial thoughts to Ep 12 of Gap and the series in general. Maybe I’ll go back and re-watch it in a few days, but I will re-watch it again when my bestfriend gets to watch it. I love that we got a happy ending. I’m happy that Saint accomplished what he set out to do :) This series has brought me a lot of happiness, and I’m going to be a life long fan of the actors. Everyone involved with the show did an amazing job, especially the director and the camera people.

I called the finale’s plot points back in the first episode (Mon going to England), them breaking up in ep seven (where Sam says Mon can’t take it back), although I wasn’t sure they would get married until Sam’s proposal in episode nine, but I was sure it would have a happy ending just based on the general vibe of the show. i.e. the cutesy sound effects, what was portrayed as funny, and other basic reactions they’d have the characters give. Really the tone of this show (and plot) is a mashup of Imagine me and You and But I’m a Cheerleader, with an undercurrent of Better than Chocolate. (I recommend BiaC, not so much the other two.) And I think those reasons are why I’m feeling underwhelmed about the finale right now. I don’t live in a blackhole, so I saw photos of the finale- and seeing the dresses and everything probably took out a lot of the magic and gay joy I would have had seeing them for the first time in the episode- but it doesn’t change how I feel about the progression of the episode. Or how I felt about the plot in general. I got the memo from episode one that this wasn’t going to be a character deep dive, but as long as I could understand and root for the characters, that was enough for me. Sam and Mon’s characters had more than enough explanation in the ep, I just felt like some of the time spent on them being heartbroken was wasted, just a little. I mean we had seen that multiple times from episode six on. I’m just happy Mon stayed and let Sam finish speaking on the highway. I’m overjoyed that Sam made the first move this time. Kirk and Grandma... just hell naw. I don’t buy Kirk’s redemption at all. This mf*er can only now SEE that Sam isn’t happy? Not all the time they’ve been engaged? Not once, in all of the “this company is my only happiness/I refuse to marry Kirk”s did he not get it? Not when Sam said it to his freaking face that she was going to love Mon to her heart’s content? gtfo Kirk. And to make HIM be the thing that finally let’s Grandma tell Sam she’d be okay with Sam being gay... I just. Setting aside the whole patriarchy having to approve bs, I’m so tired of the plot about the homophobes and the “boyfriend” being good people despite their toxic actions. I’m so sick of having to watch media about how it’s possible for them to change. 90% of Gap’s plot was for the queer community, and this 10% bs of trying to say that the show isn’t calling homophobes out/spread a positive message just makes me want to throw up. These two people were so fucking toxic to Sam and Mon, I don’t want Kirk to get a happy ending. I didn’t want to see him once again fucking up someone’s wedding by not following the color theme. I didn’t want to see him, period. Honestly Grandma didn’t bother me as much (not until her explanation to Sam, but I am not getting into that right now), although her talk with Saint made me roll my eyes so hard. I had to pause and take deep breaths to get through it. Don’t even get me started on Sam bowing to Grandma, I’m doing my best to forget that. And I get it, my media experience is not the same as their projected viewers. I get that this was a passion project for Saint, about opening up more eyes in Thailand; and that as a feel good piece of media, I shouldn’t have expected differently. Saint and everyone gave us so much- guys we got the cute version of the Devil Wears Prada with a touch of 50 Shades, and I will forever be grateful. But not what I wanted for the finale.  Overall, loved the series. Hate that we dropped the point of Mon knowing about Kirk being the mole, it would have been another good reason/justification for Sam to just stop all contact with Mon. Hate that we didn’t get a scene of Mon telling her parents about Sam and her breaking up. Just a little bit more time spent on the characters, and not on them crying, would have done a whole lot to turn this episode around for me. However, I loved how affectionate Sam and Mon were, even during the sad parts of the episode. The first scene and the car scene are the highlights for me. I will always be grateful that this show gave us Mon and Sam being so affectionate with each other as a whole. I know I spent a lot of this post complaining about the finale, but it doesn’t take away my love for this series. I still want dvds and merch and all that. I’m going to miss this show a lot, and will probably never look at Saturdays the same way again.

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

does the sight of a grave make you feel all alone? || hanji || trial 5.3 || re: jesus christ all of you

...Hanji just stood there.

...

Hanji quite literally just stood there, still, hands to their side, only their eyes displaying movement at they dart from person to person. If they were being honest, all these emotions had them just baffled. They understood, but at the same time, they didn't get it at all. In fact, wasn't this even a little insulting to Hisakata...? Or maybe Hisakata would want her to live. Who knows.

Ah, but, so they were right all along, huh... Yuriko set the traps, they were right on the bullseye before they switched theories. ...It never felt very good to be right. And it didn't feel good to be right about everyone wanting to mistrial. Did no one remember what happened last trial?

They mumble to themselves, only those around them being able to barely hear their words.

"...Amazin'. Fascinatin', how so many o' ya're willin' to throw away yer lives so easily like that."

That sort of lack of respect for oneself...

It was something they never understood.

...No, it was something they'd never understand. Not even after Risumaru had done it. Oftentimes, they would wonder if everyone else also knew it was completely fine to want to live. That's just what humans do. They want to keep living. Maybe to everyone else, it was a form of heroism, or justice, or even modesty and selflessness to be willing to sacrifice yourself. But to Hanji, all they saw was a lack of regard and respect for their own lives.

It was kind of disgusting to watch. Was it really so easy to treat yourself as disposable the same way the Shepherd does?

...Huh. Since when did they start to care to that extent? Usually, Hanji would only think about how they'll make sure they live, without thinking twice about the others.

They sigh, and they knock on their podium in an attempt to get everyone's attention next.

"...Alright, alright, let's settle down, now. I know we're all emotionally compromised by this, but can we not start throwin' ourselves to th' sharks an' make everythin' even more distressin' than it already is right now.

Murase. 'Specially you. Folk want ya t'live. Ikko gave ya all them odd-jobs so y'could live, so y'can see that there was worth in livin'. She wanted ya t'see th'worth in livin', an' she wanted ya t'thrive, otherwise the hell was that whole will fer? What would Sayu's will be fer? Why d'ya think Sayu, an, Mika, and Jin would go outta their way t'keep ya from dyin' like a lemming?"

"Why're some o' ya so ready t'die when all y'all got folk who want ya t'live? Ya think Ikko an' Yvette protected all y'all jus' fer ya t'throw that shit away? If yer all votin' fer a randomized choice, then at least stick wit' it, 'cos at least wit' that, it shows that nobody's given up. They both would'a wanted us t'keep fightin, so at this point, becomin' a martyr is just an insult to yerself an every'un who cares."

This was strange to say for them, considering they almost were about to suggest people volunteer to die if they wanted to throw the trial so bad. They actually don't know where they were going with this, in fact-- someone just had to be the calm one here. And they never wanted to be that someone, yet their so-called intelligent mind continues to chug at mach 50 to no avail. It was a bit hard to juggle so many shades of grey, their own included.

"...Sucks, eh. It ain't matter who ya vote fer. Votin' right is useless, an' mistrialin' is jus' as useless, 'cos sum'un we consider innocent is dyin' either way. Even wit', uh, yer chandelier theory, Mika, Nyako was still th' one who set the whole contraption.

There ain't no right answer t'this, uh, few folk said that already. It's all jus' a matter o' what result we want: knowin' who dies while th'rest stay safe, or sayin' fuck it. Guess that's why there ain't no fight, ya can't win a game that's rigged. An' ain't no one wanna play no more, I reckon. As much as I fuckin' hate bein' put up fer sum'n I never agreed're consented to-- guess that was every damn case, 'nyway-- judgin' by everyone's two coins an their faces, we're all in fer a mistrial at this point, wit' no argument 'ta budge no one. So."

They look at Jinpachi, then at Futaba, then at Mikazuki, Tsuneo, Kazuo, Yuriko...

Then they pause...

...and, they look to Kazuo again, as though remembering something.

'...You know, he died trying to protect what little memories we had left. It's hazy since it's been so long but... If he died for that then memories were important to him, right?'

Dying to protect someone or something important...

Maybe they did understand, after all. But that didn't mean they had to like it.

"This decision is t'protect sum'un. I get it. But if yer all actually okay wit' this mistrial, I suggest sayin' all yer goodbyes right now, now that we're all potentially up fer death. All of us, includin' Nyako.'Cos if th' Shepherd was quirky 'nuff 'ta leave Maxime behind in that god dang desert, who's t'say they'll actually exclude 'er in the roulette? They've already killed Ikko an' Yvette like we were expendable. They already called us expendable.

So, say yer last words to those ya think might die, an' say yer goodbyes in case yer th' one dyin'. Might as well show yer all actually ready fer what yer decision will bring. I'm sayin' this earnestly, mind ya. I always fuckin' hated havin' words left unsaid. Hated it fer 10 years an' still now, an' like four people here can account fer that."

"Just please, fer th' love of god, don't volunteer yerselves. That's fuckin' gross t'everyone an' yerself. Ya think anyone wants t'fuckin' watch that sad shit o'va display? Ya think that makes this any easier fer Nyako?

Christ..."

They knew emotions did wild things to people, and that being overwhelmed with them can make people do stupid things. But enough was enough. It was almost cringy seeing people make it worse.

That aside, speaking of Yuriko... The nickname still hangs on their tongue as Hanji looks at them again, and after a moment of silence, they smile.

"...Do ya remember what I said to ya b'fore? Yer stuck wit' yerself fer th' rest'a yer life, so ya might as well be kind to 'er, right?

Don't blame yerself fer this. You never knew this was gunna happen, an' that happens to th' best o' us. Not bein' a good person, not bein' smart 'nuff-- all that shit ain't fuckin' matter. What matters is that yer loved, so y'ought 'ta love yerself, too. Everyone makes mistakes, even th' smartest an' kindest o' people. Yer not a failed prodigy or nuthin'. Yer human."

They almost feel like they were talking to a younger version of themselves.

And with that... they suppose they can say their last words to everyone else later. Standing quietly, they watch like a hawk, but with their usual lazy gaze.

[nonpracticinghumanbeing]

A Fellow Masochist's Perspective on Izzy

(I wasn’t going to write about Izzy anymore. But then of course I did, because I’m me. We just gotta do what we gotta do. FUCK.)

[This is like half meta about my views on Izzy as a masochist and half my attempt to explain why him being shown the way he is is so important to me on a personal level. I just can’t separate these two issues even though I know I’m getting way too emotional over this. I guess there’s not a lot of people who would be a target audience for this, but I need to get it out of my system.]

Soooooo... So. So so so so. I made this comment on Facebook about how Izzy being a sad little masochistic boy gave me feelings no other fandom has been able to give me in about a decade. Which was a joke, of course, we all laugh at Izzy’s pain kink. Ha ha. But then I realized it’s also very much not a joke. Because I can indeed remember the last time I felt like this and it was when I first watched Lawrence of Arabia. And that movie turns SIXTY this year.

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Let’s be clear. Izzy IS a masochist, plain and simple. I’ve already written about how I think he’s more into power play than pain itself, but then I do realize how often these seem too similar to be simply labeled as one or the other. These things are way too complex to be simply analyzed and quantified as often pain becomes a tool of power. And I don’t necessarily mean “power” as in a relationship between two people, it may also mean (and often does) power over one’s own body, and in a larger perspective, one’s life.

In episode 3 there’s this scene with Izzy back on the ship, giving Blackbeard a report on Stede. He comes into Edward’s cabin and tells him how Stede isn’t interested in meeting. And while doing that, he burns his hand on a candle. Edward has his back to him, so he’s probably unaware that Izzy is even doing it. So he’s not doing it for Ed (I’ve written about the power exchange dynamics between them here), he’s doing it for himself. Is he punishing himself for lying to Edward (’cause he didn’t tell Stede he was working for Blackbeard because he didn't want them to meet)? Is it a way of proving to himself that he’s strong - unlike Stede - and therefore worthy of Edward’s attention? Does he even know why he’s doing it? I really don’t think he does, I think it might be something that he just does instinctivenly and without any deeper thought (especially seeing that he does the same thing in episode 7 while talking to Spanish Jackie and accounting for the fact that he’s not the type of person to analyze his feelings in general). And I absolutely adore it to bits.

It’s shown from a few different angles, so we’re being made aware that it’s important. But at the same time he’s talking to Ed about Stede, like him doing it wasn’t all THAT important. Like it’s just a thing that he happens to do while carrying on with his responsibilities as Blackbeard’s second-in-command. And yet the camera shows him burning his hand with nothing else happening visually. It goes on for about ten seconds, which is A LOT when it comes to movie editing. They’re coding it as something that is BOTH a crucial part of his identity AND just one of his many traits. (And it’s not just here that they’ve done this, the scene when Ed cuts off his toe with Avalanche playing in the background with its lyrics about conquering pain is just pure damn genius.) And honestly, when did that ever happen before?

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Now, I know there’s been a considerable and overall very positive move to normalize BDSM lifestyle and practices. (And I’m certainly NOT talking about the horrible abusive garbage like 50 Shades of Grey or 365 Days.) But it always seems to go one of two ways, neither of which makes me feel the way OFMD makes me feel.

So, on one hand we have the media meant to educate vanilla peope about the issue, while at the same time trying to build their capital on being somewhat naughty, with Netflix’s Bonding being the prime example. I’ll be the first person to say that the show was important in disspelling a number of popular misconceptions and trying to broker some deeper understanding between kinksters and the rest of the populace. Hell, I LOVED the talk about trust and boundaries Tiff is given by her boss in the second season. But its characters - those who are truly into the lifestyle and not just in it for the money - don’t really come off as fully fleshed characters. They are mostly just Tiff’s clients and are often characterised solely by their kinks. And that makes it impossible to relate to them.

Then we get the shows with well rounded characters who just happen to be more or less tangentially connected to BDSM, for whatever reason. Irene Adler being a dominatrix on BBC's Sherlock. Kat doing the video dominatrix stuff in the first season of Euphoria. Joanna and Tyrell doing bondage on Mr. Robot. That whole fake-kidnapping-actual-s&m-roleplay thing on Cucumber. It happens more and more which is great. But it never really felt all that important to who any of these characters really are. It’s usually about money or just a simple way of quickly allievating boredom in the bedroom (which are both totally valid, to each their own, it just doesn’t feel like it’s something that is crucial to the core identity of any of these characters). Or worst of all, it’s just an embarrasing eccentricity intended as a pun. So of course I can’t really relate to any of it, even if I do appreciate it being shown in mainstream media at all.

If hard pressed for an answer about any representation I found compelling, I’d have to say that Transparent hit the closest to home with Sarah’s experiments with BDSM, but even that felt more like a three-episode-long subplot rather than an attempt to really make it an integral part of her character. And then I’m given Izzy. Izzy for whom his masochistic tendencies seem so deeply ingrained that they are crucial to who he is. And yet he isn’t at all reduced to being just the sad little masochistic boy, because there’s also so much more to him. No wonder I’m so drawn to him, because the only other piece of mainstream media that made me feel so seen is sixty years old. 

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I’m not at all saying that what Izzy is doing is in any way healthy. His relationship with Edward - the only meaningful relationship in his life - is very toxic and right out mutually abusive. He’s so fixated on the balance of power which makes him feel safe that he’s willing to suffer a great deal to keep that balance - and willing to hurt Edward as well, even though he’s the closest thing to a friend Izzy has. A point has been made (here) about how he feels that he only deserves physical closeness when it’s justified by his own defeat. He clearly craves submission and yet he has to be forced into it - and I don't mean "forced" in a fun, playful, BDSM-like way, I mean he literally needs things to be done to him without his consent. He doesn’t just need pain (which is fine), he needs abuse (which most definitely isn’t). Because Edward making this decision for him means he doesn't have to acknowledge this need. Because acknowledging that he wants to submit to another man would shatter his self-image and make him feel weak, which he can't afford. None of this is healthy.

But. Let's imagine for a moment that he was to learn to let his guard down and let go of the toxic masculinity he's so dedicated to - which would also very much help him stop seeing his need for submission as shameful (because it's toxic masculinity, with its inherent homophobia, that tells him that no real man would be willing to submit to another). I’m not saying that it’s going to happen, I’m not even sure if I want it to happen. But let’s just imagine it. That wouldn't stop him being a masochist. These needs don't just go away, but you can learn to fulfill them in a safe and healthy (both physically and mentally) way. To find a healthy outlet for them. The feeling OFMD gives me is that everybody around Izzy would be 100% fine with him being like that. And THAT feeling is so very difficult to come by.

Why exactly does the Kraken cut off Izzy’s toe? Sure, it’s a punishment for threatening him and being disrespectful in general, Edward is full of rage and acting out. But I don’t believe he would necessarily do that if Izzy wasn’t the way he is. Blackbeard recognizes that in order to trust him again, Izzy NEEDS that punishment. It is fucked up for sure, because their whole relationship is fucked up, but there IS the act of recognition that this man needs pain (and humiliation of being made to eat the toe) to feel safe in the world. Edward ACKNOWLEDGES that Izzy needs this even though Izzy himself isn’t capable of acknowledging it. What Ed is doing here is that in his own twisted fucked up way he is actually showing respect for who Izzy is. (Then there is the confrontation between Jim and Spanish Jackie’s husband. Jim spits him in the face and he quite matter-of-factly tells them that he’s into that. And everyone around just accepts that, and I didn’t get any feeling that they judged him for that in any way.)

What OFMD was able to do that no other TV show has done for me before is to create a safe space for pretty much everyone (I do get the criticism of it glossing over the implications of Stede being a slave owner, but that’s quite a different conversation). We get multiple queer couples on the show, we get a non-binary representation, we get a huge and diverse POC representation, we get a wonderful discussion of toxic masculinity and a brilliant deconstruction of the stereotypical top/bottom dynamics in gay couples (in the fencing lesson scene, with Edward being the more experienced one and still being the one who gets penetrated by the virgin Stede). And for the first time in oh-so-many years (or maybe ever?) we get a world where I feel being an out masochist would be fully accepted by everyone and yet it wouldn't get you reduced to just this one aspect of your identity in their eyes. 

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As someone whose policy has always been total openness, over the years I’ve had people approach me and ask what the appeal was. Why did I enjoy getting hurt. And I really DO get the curiosity, because it’s very counter-intuitive for most people. It’s just that it’s so hard to explain it to someone who isn’t like that. Either you feel this way or you don’t, and if you don’t, understanding may be quite difficult.

So I’ve always used one of two things to try to explain how I feel about it: Bob Flanagan’s poem Why? or the opening scene from Lawrence of Arabia (the trick, William Potter, is NOT MINDING that it hurts), because these were the only pieces of media I could truly relate to. But then, one of these is just a short poem by a man who’s best known for being that guy from the music video for Happiness in Slavery by Nine Inch Nails, so it’s hardly mainstream media. And the other is a sixty-year-old movie - based on a ninetysomething-year-old book - which is deeply problematic in more than one way (from glossing over just how dishonest Lawrence was with the Arabs concerning their chances for actual independence to Alec Guinness playing an Arab prince which is just totally off-putting).

And then I’m given Izzy. Yes, he is a horrible and toxic man who’s both abusive towards everyone around him and dealing with his own needs in an extremely unealthy way that borders on being self-destructive. BUT. He’s being acknowledged for what he is, both by the characters within the show and the creators who make sure the viewers won’t miss it. And yet he’s not just that, he’s his own person, with his own motivations and feelings that go way beyond his proclivities. AND he exists in a world where him being like that would most probably be completely fine with people around him. No wonder I’m losing my mind over it. Because I was given a piece of modern mainstream media that makes me feel more seen and more validated than I even thought possible. And it’s a feeling I will treasure FOREVER.

[nationmckinleyscorset]

Completing thisss

Nah fr I'd be so mad if I was giving a presentation and someone was humming

"Love?" Fucking hippie

"A reckless lunatic sits in the whitehouse" never have truer words been spoken

Oop fugative Jimmy

"I love you even if you do have pudgy fingers" 💀

Don't trust the brownie my boy

Idiot

What is happening

This song is me when my mental health gets bad 💀 brownies hit different when you're sad

He's fucking a brownie? I- what?

Mae is so protective of Jimmy I love it

At least he finally got the ring off

Why is Jimmy humping Sally's leg like a bulldog?

Mary lane's smile has too many teeth imo, i feel like she'd bite me and not in a good way 😂

Oh my god he's like a dog he's going for everything pillars, furniture... Mary come collect your animal

I can actually see Mary being infatuated with Paris

Her eyes are killing me

Mary really I'd like the Janet of Reeder madness, I know I've already said it but it's true

The website I'm watching on keeps freezing and annoying me lol

"You'll forget the word no" I'm not too sure I like the way this is going

I wish I could say I wasn't expecting it but I keep comparing it to rocky horror so it only makes sense that she'd have a dramatic transformation in which she switches from pink to black and red

Love the fact we have the same nails rn XD

What in the 50 shades

"Whips, nip clips and candle wax" ON HER FIRST TIME?

I'm laughing so hard rn and I probably shouldn't be

She's such a top 😂

Tbf... it was one or the other. One of them was gonna get assaulted and I'd rather it was a guy with bad intentions than Mary sooo (Not justifying this)

"Shut up bitch 👊🏻" damnnn ok

That looks low-key painful

Get schooled Kochinski

NOT THE TONGUE

Ok wait im thinking hear me out. So Mary and Sally look alike, some kid who looks like Jimmy just showed up to the house, it's like a cycle: 2 kids get corrupted and become like Sally and the other guy who's name I can't remember and they keep bringing in kids similar to their younger selves. I honestly am probably just slow and that's probably obvious.

Who got shot?!?!?! OH MY GOD NO! NO NO NO!

Smelling salts aren't gonna help her you idiot she's dead

Oh I'm dumb lol

Yeah forget my theory she can't continue the cycle if she's DECEASED

irrelevant but Mae's got a murderess robe 💀I already know how this ends so I find that hilarious

A deathbed proposal? Aww lol

"We're happy, young and... hemorrahging blood 😁"

No honey romeo and juliet die know👏��your👏🏻shakespeare👏🏻

That's so sad though omg

That's a lot of blood jeeez

If they let Jimmy go doen for this imma throw hands

Mae please

If she doesnt tell the truth-

LMAO he said Mae please too 😂

STOP

OMG I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING NICE I SAID ABOUT HER

well, not everything but DAMN

DEATH ROW?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!

"IM... FINE... perfectly in control" relatable

Ralph being haunted by Jimmy is the funniest thing I've seen in a while

And now Mary is dancing with the devil WTFFFFF

Is she dressed as a maid?

This entire movie is such a trip but I think that's the whole idea 😂

Just realised their entire garden is growing weed 💀 reminds me of my dad's friends house 😊🤣

His dark circles are more prominent than Riff Raff's

Zombie flash mob timeee

If Sally dies I'll be so pissed

STOP

HE DID NOT

OMG I'm gonna throw up wtf

Mae screaming is literally me rn

Why have so many of the movies I've seen this week involved somebody getting parts of them getting bitten off

BROSKI WONT DIE

#justiceforsally

Sally was my second favourite character thoughhhhh

"Now I know that once you see you can't unsee" - Carrie The Musical

OMG HES STILL ALIVE THIS BITCH I SWEAR-

Oh to walk like mae XD

OMG what in the repo the genetic opera

Skewered like blind mag no disrespect to my girl or anything

Finally he's dead

OMG WHAT IS HAPPENING I low key wanna draw that now - Sally's body emerging from the garden

Satan's really just chilling with them all 😂

So are there more bodies in the garden? Cos there's more dead people than the number we've seen killed in the movie

The voices in my head when I'm trying to pay attention to someone giving me directions: (/j)

Jack had better die

OMG everybody shut up Mae's about to sing

TAKE. YOUR. HANDS. OFF. HER. TITS.

I hate that she's trying to be empowered but Jack's just stood there smacking her up

IT WASNT LOADED YES

Omg slayyy Mae

Definitely gotta cosplay her

Yes baby beat his ass 😂

Knowing how this ends is making this concerning cos like I know it gets so graphic

Jaw on the floor (just like Jack's body)

All the people walking out after that presentation traumatised 🤣

Stop omg that's way too coincidental

Just putting on lipstick like she's not covered in blood

She hit te floor (She hit the floor!) shawty got low low low low low low low (sorry it had to be done)

Does anybody survive this movie?

I hate that this is the norm for most movies I watch now

Is Jimmy gonna live? WAIT

Jimmys last words: "um..."

YAY!

Oml get him out the chair and cut the small talk 💀

Not the last minute Annie references 😂

Why is nobody questioning the fact that Mae is drenched in Jack's blood?

You choose: Paddington 2, Chicago, or Reefer Madness - who had the best prison musical number?

What am I watching?

The best American propaganda I've ever seen 🤣😭

Is Sally the same actress as Lady Liberty?

Cutting down the weed factory? Now it's definitely like my dad's friends house IM KIDDING JEEZ

did Satan just die? How? What?

And Mary went to heaven XD

"One day I'll get cancer or hit by a train!!! 😁😊😍"

Wtf was that ending oh my god (referring to the heaven scene)

I'd die laughing if the fire at the pep rally was the burning weed (Is it a pep rally? I'm British idk)

Final thoughts

Would i watch it again? Absolutely

Recommend it to a friend? Definitely

Favourite character? Mae

Was the music good? It was amazing 😂

@little-whats-her-name thank you so much for drawing my attention to this

Best of a hilarious play-by-play of people watching Reefer Madness for the first time that I found on the liveblog

[just-some-random-blogger]

Silent Hands

ph-1 (Park Junwon/Harry Park) x Idol!Reader Summary: There's something so special in knowing that this introverted man went out of his own comfort zone to make me comfortable. Word Count: 1k+ Warning: mentions and mildly graphic depictions of panic attack/mental breakdown, fluff, slightly crack-ish, typos etc.

A/N: i love ph-1. Also this fic is based on what happened to me once I was so friggin scared to miss work or be late, but I wasnt even late yet  T_T

It was pretty instantaneous when it happened. The absolute fear and feeling of stupidity running up my spine and neck. It came all at once. It was horrible. First, I was dazed like one as one blinks into wake, but then, my body was up and so was my heart rate.

When I had opened my eyes, the TV was already turned off. 

Oops, I fell asleep. 

Sorry Harry... 

These were my initial thoughts.

I looked to the rest of the couch I was on and see, well, he wasn’t there. The rest of the couch had my legs on it and my legs had a blanket covering it. My back was on the arm rest and my neck had a pillow behind it. Either I did this in my sleep or I was moved; you be the judge.

The lights were closed. There was a slight misty chill in the air. Then I saw it.

I turned over my shoulder and found the window. The sky was a bright shade of orange and red. Is that...

Holy shit, I slept through the night.

I literally ripped the blanket off me and felt my breath hitch as I scrambled for my things. I roughly wiped my face back as a whine left my lips. I had so much to do today. So many things to do with so many people waiting for me to do it. 

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I should have been in the studio at 6.

I feel tears form in my eyes as I found all my things scattered by a cabinet near the bathroom’s door. I shove the objects that found its way out of my bag back in and fish for my phone.

I suddenly realize that I was probably alone in the apartment because Junwon had already left. I begin to chew my lower lip in agitation, muttering softly, “why the fuck didn’t he wake me up?”

I roughly scratch my tears away as I find my phone.

My heart dropped when my phone screen stayed black. I start slamming my head with my palm. My phone fucking died?!

I will it to open as I harshly pressed on the buttons on the side. I continuously cuss as the phone chimes open. I mentally debated plunging it against the far off wall in front of me.

My heart skips when I hear a flush sound. I watch dumbly as the door opens and light closes behind a Harry-caught-in-headlights.

“Are you o--”

“Why did you let me sleep through the night?”

He knits his brows and watches me. In confusion, he mutters, “what?”

“I have so much to do today! My phone friggin died on me and, gosh, I must have so many missed calls.”

“But you said we could hang out today...”

“I did! But not until the next day!”

He assesses my expression as he watches me fumble with my phone. His aloof and naïve expression just angers me. How could he not get it?

I just grab my bag and begin to head for the door, “I have to go.” I stop at the door and work his locks. That’s when something clicks in Harry’s head.

I was already out when he comes up to me and places a hand on my shoulder, “wait! You didn’t sleep throughout the night.”

I look over to him as he quickly runs back in. In the few moments I was staring at the hallway of his apartment, I felt my stomach boiling in agitation. He quickly runs back and shows me his phone, “see, it’s still 6:50. It’s the same day. It’s Tuesday.”

It took a little longer for this information to register into my head, but when it did, my shoulders relaxed, not that I even knew I was so tense, and I let out a sigh of relief, not that I was actually relieved. I mean I was, but I was actually feeling more like a really big idiot.

I placed my hands on my face when I felt tears gush down. “I friggin thought it was the next day.” I let out deep breath.

Harry watches me with a sympathetic look on his face.

He then moves in to give me a hug.

I however was not having it. Mostly because I was caught off guard and feel icky when people hug me. Not that I hated hugs either. I just... grew up always dealing with my problems on my own, and now I feel like a wimp who is undeserving of comfort when I'm breaking down.

I really didn’t mean to shove him off as hard as I did. I didn’t. He sure looked shocked when I did it though. When I was faced with the aftermath of what I had done, I instantly regret it and felt 10x more idiotic.

“I...” I sniffle and wipe my philtrum, “I’m sorry. I-”

“It’s okay, I caught you-”

“No, it’s me. I just... I’m usually the one giving the hugs. I... I should go.”

He looks shocked at my words. “No! Geez,” he comes up in front of me, “please just come back inside.”

I squint tightly and breath out, “I’m kind of having a mental breakdown-”

“Which is why you should come back in.” He raises his hands and leads me in, “please. I’ll drive you home later, I promise.”

“Junwon-”

“Please, I can’t have you leave my house like this.”

My inner voice was screaming to just jump out of the window. It felt like a nice idea, but like the rest of its ideas, I muted it out and decided to plead my case to my judge, “please, I don’t want to-”

“You can have a moment in my bedroom by yourself. Just please, stay okay, even just for a little while.”

Fine.

My chances with him were ruined anyway. I spent, what, about 4 hangouts with the dude, I’m pretty sure they weren’t even dates yet, and now I’ve completely malfunctioned in front of him. There is absolutely no way I can face him again after this. I might as well do him this courtesy, for him and me.

So, I went back inside and hid in his bedroom.

I sat on the floor and cried at the end of his bedsheets.

My chest hurt.

And I felt all in all suckish

“Hey... It’s been 20 minutes.”

I think my dry throat would agree, although I would rather stay here for eternity.

He knocks on the door and I mash my face into his blanket.

He opens the door and looks at me. He walks over and whispers, “hey, it’s all good.”

I feel like crying again. I turn my face to the side and say, “no it’s not.” I feel tears pool by my nose bridge.

“This is just like peeing in a swimming pool, you just got to walk it off.”

I blink and lift my head, turning to him as he looks down on me with a soft gaze, “what?”

“You gotta get up.”

“... that makes no sense.”

He reaches a hand out to me, “a lot of things in life don’t. Sometimes you look at a sunset and think it’s a sunrise and that’s fine. It’s a little confusing but it’s a part of life.”

I take his hand when he starts making sense. I dumb it back down though, “at least if I pee in a pool, no one will know.”

He hums, “someone will always know, but you just gotta walk it off.”

I look at him after I stand, “that’s still disgusting.”

“Well,” we pull away, “you shouldn’t pee in a pool.”

“... I shouldn’t have cr-”

“Nope, it’s not an analogy. Just... what you felt was scary, it’s okay to cry when you’re scared.” He takes my hand and leads me out, “I meant not to make sense... I thought it would make you laugh.”

We walk back out and make it to his kitchen. The two seater table was set with some Mexican food. He looks at me and says, “I heat it up for you.”

I frown, “you shouldn’t have.”

“I should. I bought it before you woke up. It’s kinda gross when it’s cold.”

I feel even worse, “sorry.”

“Hey, just...” he places a hand on my shoulders and gives me a look. I don’t meet his gaze and blink rapidly as I turn to my feet. A moment passes and he speaks up again, “I’ll get you some water.”

I sat down on one of the chairs as he pours me drink. He then sits down in front of me and motions to the food. “It’s good, I promise.”

I look to my plate and feel like resting my head on the quesadilla. Maybe I can get a cheese facial in the process.

He licks his lips and releases a soft breath. He then drags his chair and moves his plate close to mine. He begins to work on my plate, and cuts up my burrito with a spoon meant for the salsa. He vigorously works on it, raising a brow at his opponent before ultimately getting a knife and fork.

I watch as he pokes it with four prongs, “are you actually cutting burrito?”

“Yes, well, I gotta make sure you have no choice but to eat it cos I worked so hard on it.”

I notice the corner of his lips faintly curve upward.

I frown.

He turns to me and catches this, “do I make you cry?”

I fist my hand and scratch my eyes, “no.”

“Do you want a hug?”

“No.”

“I think you do though.”

“Please don’t hug me.”

“... I want a hug though...”

“...”

“Can you hug me cause I need one?”

I pull my hands away and find his apprehensive expression. I let out a breath. He takes that as a yes and gives me a hug. He stands from his seat and envelopes me in his arms. I don’t move but I do close my eyes and breath in his scent. He smells like one of those cute med boys when I was in uni. He smells nice. He feels... safe. This feels safe.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly whispers.

I raise my hands and wrap them around him. I then stand and we reposition our embrace, “no... I do want a hug.” He secures his arms by my shoulders and I secure mine on his torso. He rests his cheek on my head and rubs my hair.

For a moment, we just stand there in each others arms. I feel warm with my head on his chest.

“Ripson nubus.”

“... ... did you... just speak simlish?”

“I did.”

“...”

“If we were in the sims, you would probably be happy because of how much I’m trying to make you less sad.”

“Oh to be a sim.”

“Yeah...” he rubs my head, “is it working though.”

“Mmm, well, I kinda want to eat that burrito now so you won’t have to put it back in the microwave. I don’t want the responsibility of becoming a Spiderman.”

“Right, we should,” he tries to break away, but I stop him. I pipe up softly, “just a few more seconds.”

His arms tighten around me, “a few more seconds is good.”

[yeah-uh-the-pilot]

Ok, I think I'm starting to process this a little bit, so here are my thoughts on this episode.

Starting strong with the hearts mentions! The girl with the heart transplant, the golfer dad 'shot' almost to the heart by the wedding ring, the car dealer claiming that they have heart, and Maddie, MADDIE MY LOVE, wearing the same heart necklace in all of her scenes, all 7 of them!!!! I'm still screaming.

Speaking of Maddie.... so much is going on in my head about her! Madney is back! Madney is going strong! I fucking love them - on another note, Chimney, dear lord. The way he caresses Maddie's shirt to get to her hand... just. That's some fucking Austen shit right there, and also hotter than all the 50 shades movies combined.

And something else about Maddie! I love that once she moves in with Chim she says "Turns out Mama's got a lot of stuff!" which is so different from what we know of Maddie - she never puts down roots, she travels light, she only had two suitcases worth of stuff when she left Doug, but now she's got many more things, just like her family is made of a lot more people.

Captain Hen! She IS the future of the LAFD as it's implied in Hen Begins. I think Captain Wilson was where they were going to go before they decided to get Hen to Med School, anyway, so. Also, I hadn't watched the Lucy scene before watching the episode because ya girl here wants to experience the whole episode at once, so yeah, I'm perfectly ok with the way all the things about the Interim Captain went. (Also, I still stand by my decision to watch the episode as they come - no preview, no nothing, it's a whole other experience this way.)

(May is so pretty in this episode, dear lord)

Bobby and Athena, my loves! ❤️ Their first scene together warmed me to my very core. (also if we find out that that little girl that disappeared when Athena was a kid was kidnapped or killed by her dad I will cry for three days straight)

Buck, Buck, my beloved (THE RETURN OF THE CLIPBOARD!!!!!!!!!). I firmly believe that the show will end with Buck in the Captain's chair - and this! We'd got from Oliver Stark's several interviews in the last week that he was going to go for that and I loved his interaction with Bobby, the idea that to become a good leader you can't just be good at your job, you also need stuff outside of it too.

Eddie in this episode hit me in so many ways, dear lord. He was so competent with everything - did you see the sternal rub? I'm gonna start developing a complex here - both as a medic and as a firefighter. He's better, he's more open, I love how he talked about Shannon, I just loved him so much in this episode. (also kudos to Ryan Guzman, because seriously! He's so different from the other seasons, and you can see it, you can feel it, I love the way he talks now, because I remember how he was in S2-S4, always trying to make his voice a bit bigger, a bit lower, louder and quieter at the same time, but this Eddie is more comfortable in his own skin, he doesn't need to pretend to be something he's not, and Mr. Guzman is incredible in the way he shows it.)

Buddie. I have no words - actually, I have too many words, bear with me here:

The lasagna!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As a little italian lady, let me tell you that lasagna is how you show love. It's time-consuming, it's a hassle, it's something that you only do for the people you love. The fact that he's making it for Chris and Eddie, so comfortable in his kitchen, so laid back, is just... ugh. Also how he says it took him three times to get it 'right' - I don't know, like the number of girlfriends he's had in the show and the fourth time is the charm and he's giving it to Eddie and Chris???????? I'm screaming.

On a sidenote, I fucking called it - food is love in this show, so Taylor can get fucked and she only gets frozen waffles, but the Diaz family deserves home-cooked meals made from scratch! Something he doesn't really know how to cook even! That he had to make over and over again. I'm sorry, I'm obsessed.

The couch talk was so incredibly important too - once again, I'd steered clear of all the discourse after 'you don't even have a couch' was leaked - but yeah. The way Buck says "The couches came with girlfriends" and he's never really felt comfortable in them (thinking of Chris sitting down on the coffee table in 3x03 here), and then Eddie replying "Your last two girlfriends came with couches" WHEN BUCK IS ALWAYS SITTING DOWN OR SLEEPING ON EDDIE'S COUCH, JUST WHAT

I have no idea how they managed to make the loft so lived in! It looked like a home - and the fact that it was because the table was set and Eddie and Chris were there, just... kill me already.

I'M NOT DONE ABOUT HOW IMPORTANT THE FOOD IS. You mean to tell me that Taylor moves in and she gets to eat takeout - no cutlery because they can find it - but Eddie is there and the whole table is set up, everything is out, and they get a homemade meal? I will be done screaming at one point, I swear.

Chris roasting one of his dads with the help of his other dad, my beloved.

Eddie and Chris feeling comfortable enough at the loft that they can mind their own business as Buck does his thing ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ also, I love how at ease they looked in Buck's kitchen but once they're home on their own... it felt off, it felt like something was missing this time around.

(Mr Guzman, you blushed through the whole episode. What. do. you. know.)

THE CHAIR. ashdhfbrkfhbsrkjfbsdfjbsd the way he's choosing a chair he owns, a chair he knows, a chair that won't hurt him. (Also, Oliver, dear lord, the way he lifts that chair)

I don't know. I have so many feelings. The more I think about it the more insane I feel about the weewoo show.

[mermaidsirennikita]

I hope the show isn't making the slow burn/less sex change for season 2 because people were complaining about Daphne and Simon getting together too soon last season. A couple getting married in the middle of the book is pretty standard for HR. I actually think I've read more books were the couple gets married at the beginning rather then the end. Or at least they have sex sooner even if they're not married.

Here's how I feel about it, having not seen the show and being determined to judge it for myself.

While I think that you can ABSOLUTELY have a great romance without explicit onscreen sex; and while I think there can be a trade-off for having fewer sex scenes (if the quality of them is good, if the ramp up makes them hotter, if the nature in which they occur is more exciting)... I don't think there's going to be a way I won't have some level of issue with the show having less sex in principle, if that makes sense?

It's because, I think, it feels like a response to the general prudishness people have been displaying towards onscreen sex as of late, and there's not a way that it doesn't read as more of an effort to ensemble the show and make it less of a romance. Because while I definitely get why they changed plot elements (I genuinely do not care about that by and large, unless the plot elements changed negatively affect characterization; I liked TVWLM, but I have no deep emotional attachment to the book) I think that the amount of subplots present suggest that... Everything could've happened a bit faster if we weren't also giving screentime to the Featherington heir, or Eloise Does Feminism. Which doesn't just mean you could have more sex--it also means you could have more emotional depth for Kate. Which would PROBABLY include her sexual evolution, as is often the case with HR.

If there hadn't been a precedent set with season 1, if this was the same couple we were returning to who we'd already seen fuck like crazy, dialing down sex would have no... idk, lol, political significance for me? But as a romance reader, knowing that trad publishing is toning sex down (releasing more tame romcom books, getting rid of stepbacks and shirtless men on covers and replacing them with cartoon covers that make the book look appropriate for 12 year olds) it's a bummer to watch the first true historical romance novel adaptation do the same thing.

Also, I don't really care about the success of the show because I don't think there's a chance that they get to the couple I care about anyway lol... But I don't know how having a dozen articles with titles like "Bridgerton Still Good, Way Less Sex Tho" is going to help promote the show. Like. I feel very strongly that the audience that originally watched watched in part because they heard of fuckathons occurring.

People want to go on main and act like they hate seeing sex, and Mine Eyes Have Been Violated By The Filth, but lol. The numbers would suggest that they're actually turning the fuck out to watch people fuck it out. The fact that the 50 Shades movies, LEGITIMATELY horrible movies based on horrible books, made as much money at the box office as they did? Before direct to streaming releases corresponding with theater releases were a thing? Is huge. People trotted out to actual movie theaters because they thought they were gonna see that girl get her back cracked (the sex scenes in 50 Shades are actually v. lame, but the promise of them is the thing).

Add in the prospect of streaming, where you don't even have to watch with other people if you don't want to... Look at how well 365 DNI did at Netflix. I know that a lot of y'all reject that movie (a film I hold as a BADGE OF FUCKING HONOR) but that shit was all over the place in their top 10 for weeks.

Sex does sell. And the great thing about having sex scenes as opposed to not having them is that if you want to be a prude about it, you can also fast forward. You can't add them back in. And I just don't think that the correct response to people flipping out because the hot duke was gone and where will the sex appeal be now with Generic White Men 1-3 in the leading roles was....... to dial down the sex scenes lol. Like, give this Generic White Man his chance to show that he can throw down, you know?

So while I may still fully enjoy the love story and enjoy the sex that is there, I know myself--there's no way that I wouldn't have appreciated more, there's no way I won't read into why there's less (I mean, even aside from Anthony and Kate, bizarre that you don't hear about Benedict fucking around in the background like Anthony did in season 1), and there's no way that they wouldn't have been better off keeping the levels where they were in s1. Which you could definitely do, while maintaining a slow burn. If anything, I think you need to make the payoff for the slow burn very worth it.

[vintagegoddess12]

The Ever After (3)

Relationship: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Agatha is getting thirsty for the reader.

Requested by: @adorkwithaplan

The 50s

The 60s

The 70s

Agatha was irritated, to say the least.

First, she can’t find a window to approach the Vision residence because of their instant pregnancy. Her synthezoid husband has been beside Wanda since the baby bump appeared. Second, she can’t…uhm...she can’t - she can’t even talk about it.

Seeing you made her revisit her feelings about you, the wonderful four years you two had. She can remember you bumping into her in the chicken aisle in the grocery. You were rushing and crashed into her cart. All your attention is placed on the chicken meat near her.

“Sorry,” you frantically reached for the pre-packed set of chicken, “I just really love myself some breasts.”

Agatha, taking in the view, was immediately in a playful mood. “I’m more of a leg person.”

You paused and looked at her for the first time. You can see her eyeing you hungrily, causing a blush to form on your cheek. You were only wearing your shorts and T-shirt, not exactly revealing but you feel so exposed under her gaze. Agatha didn’t need to read your mind to know you were hooked.

“I meant the chicken.”

The woman scanned you from head to toe, making you hold your breath, then replied, “I can’t say the same about the legs.”

You tried to hide your attraction with nervous laughter, which made Agatha more engaged.

“I’m really sorry. I was rushing too much. Were you hurt?”

“I’m not but I will be if you don’t invite me to taste those breasts.” She pointed her lips towards the meat still on your hands but you felt warmth spreading across your chest.

Still flustered with the conversation you replied, “you mean the chicken, right?”

Agathe stepped closer and you gulped in response, centering yourself. “I’m not really picky.”

Trying to reel yourself in, you breathily replied, “you’re very forward, aren’t you?”

“You would be if you’re seeing what I’m seeing.”

Back in Westview, Agatha can be seen smiling while reading her spellbooks. Meeting you was one of the highlights of her long life. It didn’t take long for her to reveal her true nature to you. While she was fearing you might leave her, you simply asked if she had ever thought about hurting you. The answer was of course no. You pulled her into a searing kiss. Long. Hard. Sweet. It comes with a promise that you are hers, no matter what she is.

Agatha had to put down her spellbook. This time it was her who has to center herself. The image of your lips on hers is sending heat straight to her core. She can remember how you would moan and writhe underneath her, begging to let you-

This is the second thing she can’t talk about.

Every time she sees you in this sitcom world, she can’t help but imagine you under her. That black lace dress, she can see herself taking it off of you. Kissing your shoulders while she removes it slowly. The real-life you would be aching, burning with need for her, moaning her name. When you were at the talent show, it took all her strength not to drag her fingers across your thighs under the table, wondering if it still feels the same after six years.

The witch’s hands traveled down her body, as she adjusted her position in the chair. She sat forward, leaning in the backrest, conjured a picture of you in her head while her finger grazed the sensitive bud below. The shocks it sent caused her to release a moan. Thank heavens she’s alone in the basement. She kept making circling motions, making her lose herself in the feeling and image of you. Blushing [y/n]. Submissive [y/n]. Fucking [y/n].

She was about to come undone when she heard loud knocks coming from her door.

Interrupted once again, she stood up to greet her guest at the door. Sometimes it can be hard playing the nosy neighbor. Earlier that day it was Mrs. Hart, setting up a luncheon. Few mins ago, Dottie was asking about her husband. Rumour has it that Phil practically ran away after his wife asked if her earrings make her look fat. She dismissed both ladies as nicely as she could so she could go back to thinking about you.

The pretending housewife was ready to shoo away her visitor when her eyes landed on a periwinkle pleated dress cinched at the waist. The dress stole her breath away just as much as the wearer. You always look amazing when you wear shades of her signature color. Or no dress at all.

“Hi, Agnes!” You offered a plate of quiche in her face.

“[y/n], sweetie, do we have any plans today?” The witch placed a handful of her hair in front of her face, trying to hide her flustered look from her recent activity. ‘

“No,” you pushed the plate again to her and this time she accepted, “I just have a lot of food dropped by the house. Apparently, that’s what you do to a widow. Make her fat.” Agatha snorted, which you found endearing.

“You’re still my sweetie even if you get fat,” she teased. That made you smile.

“That’s a relief. Consider that as my thank you for keeping me company these past few days.” You pointed at the plate on her hand with a bright smile on your face. “I hope you like quiche.”

Still in a flirty mood, your neighbor replied, “I do like something that sounds a lot like quiche.” She then pouted and made a loud kissing sound.

“Oh my god, Agnes! You’re so forward.” You said with a grin.

She stepped aside, “well, want to come inside?” She wouldn’t mind being interrupted if it was you.

Agatha watched you instinctively reach for the gold band on your finger, still bound to a marriage that isn’t even real. And for sure did not satisfy you, the way she could.

“I’ll pass,” you saw the fleeting look of disappointment in her eyes so you continued, “for now. I still have a lot of food to clear out.”

“If you ever need help disposing of them, just holler.”

“I will. There’s a lot of chicken casserole in that house.” You huffed as you placed your hands on your hips, making her see the full view of the dress.

“I do love chicken, dear.”

“I know.” You beamed.

Agatha was about to react when colors around her started glitching.

The episode rewinds.

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from grace) Jungkook x OC

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5

Chapter 6

“Are you sure you want to head back to work today, Areum? Hoseok told me that he would give you the rest of the week off if you like... That bruise on your face is looking pretty nasty.” My sister commented mildly, her eyes worried as she watched me dab concealer on the mottled purpling skin on my jaw.

“I need to finish a couple of reports by the weekend. And Namjoon oppa told me he wanted me to be there when we viewed the CCTV footage later today. It’s going to help getting that bastard fired.” I flinched at how bad this side of my face looked. 

The bastard. 

“He’s not fired yet?” My sister made a noise of outrage.

“Of course he is. There’s a restraining order against him. But formally he needs to be terminated and Namjoon wants to do it in a way that it goes on his record permanently. Especially considering he’s already out on bond.” I wrinkled my nose. 

There wasn’t much chance of Junho going to prison over this but I definitely did not want him within fifty feet of me, ever again. 

“Jungkook’s busy with his practice is it? I haven’t heard from him...” My sister prompted and I nodded.

“His big match is coming up on Sunday. That's like four days away ...he’s probably cooped up in that gym of his.” 

“I know... Seokjin works out there too... its a great place...how come you’re never there?”

I frowned .

“He actually has me blacklisted. I’m not allowed inside the establishment. ” I muttered. 

My sister’s eyes widened.

“What? Why?”

I shrugged. The memory was a good one and worth reliving. In fact i relived it quite often when I was particularly horny with only my own hands for relief. 

“I seduced him against his favorite punching bag once and he had to get rid of it because the cum stains wouldn’t come off. He’s a petty jerk.” I grinned at my sister enjoying the way her eyes went wide as saucers. .

She stared at me slack jawed. And then she shook her head in disbelief. 

“You talk about him this way but you always look like you're half way in love with him. I don’t know what is going on in your head when it comes to Jungkook.”

I laughed.

“I love him. Of course I do.... I’m pretty sure he cares about me too, “ I remembered how warm and content I’d felt when he’d held me, how the police officer had immediately concluded he was my boyfriend, simply from the concern radiating off him, “  But, I’m not going to push for anything. I like how we are ...now.”

“Friends with benefits.?”

“I prefer the term enemies who fuck” I winked and she groaned. 

“Whatever you say. But remember, you’re going to have to DTR at some point and I hope you don’t get a shock if he isn’t on the same page. “ 

“Unlikely. Now go distract mom so I can slip out of the back door.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That looks pretty fucking bad.” Hoseok winced when he saw me and I groaned.

“Don’t remind me. I ran into Namjoon on the way up and he swelled like a bullfrog. Is Jungkook in today?” I asked him brightly.

Hoseok frowned.

“you guys are awfully chummy these days ....Need I remind you about the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office?” 

I flushed.

“We’re...not....I mean. We’re friends. “

“I thought the term was enemies who fuck.” Hoseok said thoughtfully and I jumped.

“What-?”

“Jungkook told me, you little brat. I asked him why he went over to the police station and broke Junho’s fucking jaw and he spilled...”

My own jaw came unhinged.

“ He what?!”

 “He posted the bond money for the bastard himself to get him out and then apparently punched him hard enough to land him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God...is he in trouble?” 

Hoseok sighed.

“Of course not... Mr. Jeon had it taken care off at once but I knew something was up . He’s too old to play knight in shining armor , unless there was something between you guys...” 

I sighed.

“We’re in a purely physical relationship yes with of course a splattering of affection for each other. But nothing that deserves a label or close scrutiny from the HR dept. Please Hobi oppa, just let me be. “ I fluttered my lashes and he rolled his eyes. 

“Just as long as you know that Jeon Jungkook is a chaebol. He’s not going to make a honest woman out of you.” Hoseok gave me a pointed look and I wondered if I really did wear my heart on my sleeve. 

Apparently, everyone could sense that my feelings for Jungkook ran deeper than just lust and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. 

“Anyway, yo answer you question, yes. He’s in his office right now.”

I made to turn away but Hoseok grabbed my wrist.

“You have thirty five memos to answer and seventeen appointments to schedule. Your desk is this way, I suggest you head in that direction.” His eyes glinted in a way that told me he was incredibly serious. 

I pouted.

Fine... I’d wait for lunch to go meet Jungkook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook had a secretary of his own , the smitten Miss Lee and she gave me an angelic smile, telling me that Jungkook was out to meet someone in the marketing department. If there was anything important, I could leave it with her.

Declining the offer and thanking her, I made my way to the fireescape and the back stairwell. One of the doors opened to the emergency exit in Jungkook’s office and it took me a little bit of running around but I managed to locate it easily enough. 

Jungkook had left the door open and less than ten minutes later , I was in his office, staring around in mild awe. 

Weirdly enough, I’d never been here. before, mostly because Jungkook himself wasn’t in here all that much. But there was no mistaking that he actually did take his work seriously . I peered around the expensive drawing Tablet and the three or so monitor screens , the stylus tossed about. 

It was probably a huge breach of his privacy but I couldn’t help but click on the mouse, watching his monitor come alive. 

I blinked in disbelief when I realized what I was staring at. 

“Oh my  fuck...”  I

I felt my face flood with heat as I stared at the screen. 

It was a drawing of me. 

I was completely naked , reclining against what looked like a thick white fur rug , with countless plush cushions scattered all around me. The snow white fur set off the golden glow of my skin and I noticed the attention to detail, the tiny mole in the corner of my hip, the small half moon scar on the edge of my collar bone and of course an impressive collection of hickeys on my neck and my inner thighs. 

I looked the way I usually did when I was mouthing off at him, a little angry and rebellious, my eyes blazing with a challenge and my lips parted in annoyance . I had one hand resting right between my legs, two fingers pressed against the labia while the other two disappeared into me. The other hand lay on my breast, fingers tweaking one hard nipple . 

I turned away quickly, breathing harshly as I realized that Jungkook had literally drawn an incredibly accurate drawing of me masturbating , purely from memory.

Not entirely sure if i should be angry at this or not, I tried to clear the hazy cloud of arousal that was beginning to settle all over me. I wasn’t angry. 

I was just ridiculously turned on. 

And incredibly curious if he had other pics of me. 

I whirled back around to the computer and then nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized that Jungkook was leaning against the doorway, watching me with an amused smile on his face. 

“Oh, fuck...” I clutched at my heart which felt like it was going to give out. 

“Pretty sure your desk isn’t here, Areum. Are you lost?” He drawled, stepping away from the door and stalking over to me. 

I stepped back quickly, the action purely instinctive. 

“Did you punch Junho?” I asked sharply.

Jungkook gave me a small smile.

“That is a very mild way to put it yes. He’s gonna be eating through a straw for a couple of months , yes.”

I glared at him. 

“What if you got arrested.” I folded my arms.

He laughed.

“Baby, come on. fucker had it coming. Anyway enough about that loser. Why are you hovering near my desk. Corporate espionage is generally frowned upon baby... Am i gonna have to spank you, you naughty girl?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

I rolled my eyes before walking up to his desk and turning the screen around to show the lewd artwork . 

“how long have you been drawing me like that?” I pointed at the screen and Jungkook looked surprised. 

Surprised but not particularly bothered. 

“Ah... i love that one... Did you see the way I only drew four of your fingers between your legs baby, your thumb is supposed to be rubbing on your clit.... I was working on it when I got called away earlier....” He looked apologetic. 

I felt like I had turned the exact shade of the marron carpet under my foot. 

“Jungkook how long have you been drawing me naked...” I snapped. 

“ Oh... probably the first time you let me see you naked.” He said nodding lightly and I stared at him.

“How come I’ve never heard of this?” I hissed and he gave me a grin. 

“Because it’s for my own personal...use.” He grinned. 

I glared at him.

“How many....?” I demanded.

Jungkook shrugged.

“50...? 60? Definitely at least fifty.” He said casually. 

I stared at him.

“I wanna see them.” I said sharply. Jungkook sighed, like I was being a pain , which was so unfair it made me want to scream. 

“Areum, I-” 

“Jungkook?” A soft voice called from the outer office and I frowned when Jungkook startled. 

“Oh, hey... Sana..... Come in.” His voice had shifted into something mild and pleasant and I felt my hackles rise. 

“Oh..hello... Areum ssi...” The girl gave me a confused smile and I resisted the urge to fold my hands and demand what she was doing there. Instead , I moved away from behind Jungkook’s desk, grabbing a file. 

“Good afternoon Sana ssi.” I smiled.

“I’m sorry, I missed lunch, Sana.... I wanted to give you this. “ Jungkook pulled out a small envelope from his jacket, smiling an absolutely angelic smile at her. 

Sana looked suitably enthralled, her eyes trained greedily on his perfect face as she took the envelope.

“Oh.. are these--?”

“Tickets to my match on Sunday yes...” He smiled. “ I’m hoping you’ll be there.” 

I felt my lungs expand as I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The urge to screech like a banshee was increasing by the second. 

“Oh, I’ll be there for sure. I’ll be cheering you on from the front row, Jungkook !!” She all but bounced on her feet, looking positively giddy with excitement as she bowed to both of us and literally floated away. 

I waited till she was fully gone before turning on him. 

“There better be another envelope in there with my name on it.” I gritted out. 

Jungkook grinned wide at that, eyes dancing with mirth. 

“In my jacket? Not really. But there’s something much better in my pants with your name on it. Want me to whip it out for you baby?? “

He grabbed the edge of his belt buckle, tugging the leather out of the hoops and I glared at him. 

“You are out of your mind if you think I’m going to be okay with you letting everyone watch you fight but  me. That is just unfair and uncalled for.” I snapped. 

Jungkook was still tugging on his belt, but he paused to give me a look.

“What’s in it for me?” He said softly. 

I frowned.

“What?”

“I’m not going to enter a deal without an equitable pay off....Its obvious that you’re really turned on by the thought of watching me fight . So unless you give me something I’m thirsty for.... I’m not going to indulge you,” He said casually. 

I laughed in disbelief. 

“There is literally nothing I’ve denied you in bed , you're crazy to even suggest -”

“I haven’t fucked your ass yet.” He said casually. 

I could feel myself turning red.

“No.” I hissed. “ Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell not?” He frowned.

“Because it fucking hurts. I’m not going through that again.” I snapped. 

Jungkook groaned like he was in actual pain. 

“Baby, its hardly my fault you’ve never slept with a real man before me, is it? Why should I deprived the pleasure of fucking your ass just because those buffoons didn’t know how to do it right?” Jungkook’s voice was dangerously close to a whine and I resisted the urge to throw something at him. 

“I don’t fucking care...its a no. So drop it. ” 

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. 

“Fine. I’ll drop it. For now.” He muttered and then made a big show of thinking, “ alright fine. How about you let me tie you up.”

I stared at him.

“You literally do that every time we have sex.” I pointed out. 

“And I get to use my toy box.” 

I blinked.

“Your toy box.” I said , confused. He grinned mischievously. 

“You know the one...Big mahogany box  underneath my bed. The first time I showed you, you kind of screamed and called me a monster?” He grinned wide.

i had a brief flashback of an assortment of whips, floggers and gags. 

I shuddered. 

Nope. 

This wasn’t working. 

“How about this.... Either you get me those tickets or you don’t get to fuck me. At all.” I smirked.

Jungkook hummed.

“Why would you punish yourself like that love?” He drawled. “ You can’t live without my dick, the sooner you accept that the easier life is going to get for you.” 

The audacity of this bitch. 

I walked right past him , ready to stalk out,  but his hand shot out, gripping my elbow and pulling me into his embrace.

I struggled against his hold, but he brought both arms around my waist, flexing his muscles so I could feel just how futile it would be to try and break free. 

“Come on baby, walking out in the middle of negotiations...that’s just really poor etiquette. Think of the poor hostage....” He pouted , doe eyes wide and I nearly caved. He had no fucking business being sexy  and  cute. 

I laughed in disbelief.

“Hostage??....are you talking about your fucking ego....?” I stared right up at him , tilting my face when he moved to kiss me. His lips latched on to my jaw instead, tongue licking the skin there gently as he hummed . 

“No...I’m talking about my dick.” He grabbed both my elbows, swinging me around like I weighed nothing, one arm holding me in place as he pressed up against my back, hips rolling so I could feel the hardness of his dick right against the swell of my ass. “ Dude’’s feeling pretty darn trapped right now. Poor thing just wants to get inside you and ruin you baby, why you making it so hard for him...?” 

I elbowed him sharply, vindicated when the sharp edge of it caught something hard and fleshy. Jungkook grunted in discomfort but didn’t let go of me. 

“My little hellcat. “ He bit down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder, “You know why my dick is hard?”

“To match your cold unfeeling heart?” I snapped and he moaned in mock hurt. 

“Not fair baby...I have the kindest heart... Soft heart, hard dick....That’s literally my entire persona.” Jungkook nuzzled my neck .  

I fought the urge to laugh . 

“So why then? Because I’m within ten feet of you? Isn’t that all it takes usually?” I muttered, wincing a bit when his teeth sank in a little deeper.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle.

“Normally I’d agree but today... I’m so fucking hard because you looked like you wanted to claw Sana’s face off when I gave her those tickets....” 

I flushed.

“Well, I just don’t think I should be the only one not allowed to see you fight.” 

“Or maybe you just hate the idea of any one else getting to touch my dick...because like I said...it’s got your name on it right baby?” Jungkook laughed against my ear and I blushed . 

“I still think its rude that you don’t let me come to your matches.” I grumbled. 

“And why do you think that is, baby? Why do you think I’m so adamant about you not being anywhere near me when I have something important to do...”

I didn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut when he suckled on the skin near my neck. 

“Its because I’ll probably lose..” He growled into my ear, “ Don’t wanna get knocked out in the first round because I was too busy staring at your pretty, pretty face and delicious fucking body... My only distraction, my  favorite  distraction.”

  I felt myself melt like an ice cream cone in the fucking sun. 

“Oh, fuck you....you honey-tongued son of a bitch...” I choked out, unable to fight the wide grin that was taking over my face. 

Jungkook chuckled in victory, hugging me tighter.

“So tell me.... Can I tie you up tonight? Get some of my favorite toys...Want to play in your sandbox....” He leered and I laughed despite myself. How could this man make the most innocent of phrases sound so fucking sexy.... 

“Only if you let me pick the toys.”

Jungkook let go of me and gently turned me around. He was frowning deeply. 

“Babe you don’t even know what their called.” He complained.

“But I can gauge how much damage they’ll do and that’s more important to me.” I pointed out. 

Jungkook gave me a thoughtful smile.

“Hmm....fine... But I get to offer the choices. “ He said softly. 

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Okay, in that case you need to let me see every single drawing you’ve made of me... right now.” I smiled.

Jungkook grinned, already grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his desk.

“Deal...but I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock and keep it warm while I show them to you..... okay?” 

I glared at him but he was already moving to the wide , comfortable chair behind the desk. He sat on the chair, manspreading and unbuckling himself before wriggling the slacks down past his waist and tugging his boxers down. 

I watched him reach in to pull out his hard cock ,  pumping the hard length of it a couple of times before smiling at me expectantly. 

“Horny bastard.” I muttered under my breath, before letting him maneuver me into his lap, fingers slipping up my skirt and tugging my panties aside , before lining himself up against my center. 

“Ready baby?” He kissed my cheeks fondly and I nodded lowly. He pressed a couple of fingers against my slit, dipping in just enough to make sure I was wet enough. I wasn’t dry per se, but it still stung a bit when he drove himself in with one swift stroke. 

“Oh, fuck...” I groaned when he entered me , the rock hard length of him cleaving my insides and making my tongue go dry. I clenched down on him, thighs beginning to tremble already. I gripped the edge of the table in front of me. 

“Maybe I should call Sana in now.? Huh baby...that’ll show her who this dick belongs to, right , angel?” He whispered against my ear and I moaned, a gush of arousal staining my thighs at his words., Jungkook laughed knowingly, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me still before rolling his hips gently and settling inside me. 

“So baby, which ones do we start with.... Solo shots? ones with me....? There’s one of me fucking your pretty pink hole, maybe that’ll change your mind about letting me take you in the back...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : I’m stopping here because the next chapter is just like 5k of porn and I wanted it to be a standalone chapter. 

Comments are love , Feedback is really appreciated. Send me your thoughts, ideas or even just scream about how hot Jungkook is....anything works. 

taglist : @veronawrites @aamxxrii  @brooky95

@apollukee

@ladyartemesia

@yoongisdragon

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ if you guys wanna be on the taglist just lemme know...

[theggning]

Perfect timing for me to ask you this: what's your thoughts/opinions on Deacon?

It's always a good time to ask me to tl;dr, friendo, I love never shutting up, ever.

Ah, Deacon. The man of mystery, the liar, the Railroad's number one agent (though he'd rather you not believe it.) Everybody's favorite egg in shades. I really like Deacon. He's hilarious, handy in a fight, his voice acting is phenomenally fun, and has a lot of wise things to say about the lies people tell you to make you act in their interest.

Of course, Deacon's main character trait and personality is that he lies constantly. He is, admirably, upfront about the fact that he's a liar, and doesn't expect anyone to trust him. Sometimes his lies are clearly meant to be a joke. Sometimes they're a test, to teach the Sole Survivor a lesson about spycraft. But when it comes down to it, Deacon doesn't lie about important things, or things that will get someone in danger. He lies, with varying degrees of believability, so that when he *needs* to lie, nobody will know whether or not to believe him. He disguises himself, often poorly, so that when he *needs* to disappear, nobody will spot him.

But the thing Deacon lies about the most is himself. As with all the Railroad agents, his name is a pseudonym. He lies about being a synth (he isn't) and going places and seeing things. He lies about escapades he's been on and missions he's run. Even his appearance is a lie, as he admits he undergoes surgeries to change his face every so often. Every one of his affinity conversations ends with a charisma check revealing that he was lying.

And lies are all that you get from Deacon, until you reach his final affinity conversation. There, Deacon, unusually emotional and distraught, confesses that in his youth, he was a member of a gang called the University Point Deathclaws-- a hate group that targeted synths. After a particularly brutal murder turned Deacon away from the gang, he met and married a woman named Barbara. But years later, his old gang showed up at their doorstep and murdered Barbara-- as it turned out, Barbara was unknowingly a synth. Deacon proceeded to butcher every one of his former friends-- and impressed by his prowess and believing him to be sympathetic to the cause, he was then recruited by the Railroad.

If you believe that this story, too, is a lie, then we're left scraping for a motive or a baseline or just, anything we can actually use to pin Deacon down as more than a fleeting shadow.

People much more eloquent than me have dissected this reveal and all of their points are good and sourced, and they will do a much better job of it than I could, but in short, I do believe Deacon is telling the truth about his past. Everything from the acting to the expressions on his face to terrible things he confesses about himself point to real, genuine heartache under his usual glibness, and it also provides us a motive, one magical golden key that unlocks the most important facet of Deacon:

This man hates himself.

Deacon absolutely fucking hates himself. He hates his past, he hates his choices, he hates how he used to behave and believe, he hates what it did to the woman he loved. He views his service to the Railroad as atonement, that he also doesn't deserve and never will. Not only does the Railroad necessitate secrecy, making up lies, changing his face, turning himself into a mystery, but it also allows Deacon to pretend to be anybody else but himself (as MacCready ice burns him in one of their exchanges.) He fears that if anyone finds out the truth about him, spots even a small sliver of his real self, they will hate him as much as Deacon does. And he'll deserve it. The only future Deacon sees for himself is to die in service of the Railroad, in service of freeing the synths that he used to hate and victimize, in service of an organization he feels he's completely unworthy of belonging to.

This, I'm sorry to say to his fans, is the actual characterization/meta reason why Deacon isn't romanceable. Deacon hates himself so much that he's unwilling to let anyone know who he really is. He only barely feels comfortable exposing part of his past to the Sole Survivor at the end of the affinity conversations-- a romance would require letting someone in further than that, and Deacon not only refuses, but feels like he doesn't deserve it. Like, I cannot stress enough that in a canon full of companions struggling with self-image and varying degrees of hating themselves, Deacon is the undisputed Grand Champion of hating himself. He has a LONG way to go to finding even the slightest bit of worthiness in himself.

And that's really the sad and poignant part of Deacon. We can believe Deacon is a fun and likable guy with good intentions and a good cause. We can believe that a person can change at heart, can try to make up for their mistakes by doing good things. (I believe it!) But the tricky part is making Deacon believe it-- a man so thoroughly sunk in his own self-hatred that he truly doesn't believe he deserves to be forgiven.

Well, that was kind of a downer, so I'll rattle off some other fun facts about Deacon to close this out...

Deacon seems to be very well-read, with an interest in pre-War literature. OR MAYBE HE'S LYING?!

He is, however, very likely the same person as John D., a Railroad agent mentioned in Desdemona's terminal who came up with the dead drop system, the pyramid structure of secrecy, was the only survivor of an earlier Institute raid on Railroad HQ, and was also instrumental in rebuilding the organization. This raid took place in 2266, over 20 years before the game starts, so it's actually very likely that Deacon is in his 40s or even his 50s.

We all know Deacon (poorly) follows Sole through the early parts of the main quest, but he's been following them a lot longer than that. Deacon discovered the Institute's apparent interest in Vault 111 and theorized there was something inside that they wanted. This led Deacon to stakeout Vault 111, where he apparently sat and watched the doors for some time until the Sole Survivor emerged. (You can find his spot in the trees on a hillside overlooking the Vault doors. There's a chair, a few bottles of water, a sun shade, and the Railsign for "ally" carved nearby.)

And stolen verbatim from the wiki:

At one point in 2275, Deacon was kicked out of HQ by former leader Pinky Thompson because he was "sick of the lying, face-changing son of a bitch," after Deacon had spent a month as a ghoul, which "freaked a lot of people out."

[ithehellisbucky]

Fake Smile

Carol Danvers x Reader

Request: for @marvels-writings

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Hatred, grief, suicide, etc

Author's Note: This is for @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest's contest last year, it's already on ao3 here. They have a great contest opening on may tenth for the mcu ladies, so go check that out! There isn't enough wlw fanfiction in this fandom (or really any).

~

You could swear her skin was glowing. Or at the very least reflecting the colors around her. Soft golden light shone around onto her face from the cracked window next to her chair, and she basked in the light as if she had just won every award the world had to offer. She didn't have the right to be this fucking pretty.

Her golden hair floated around her head, almost literally, forming a halo that made her look even more like an angel. Her skin was only several shades lighter, and her cheeks scrunched up in a way when she laughed that you could only describe as euphoric. Her piercing blue eyes only complimented her features, and your eyes were instantly drawn to her impossible beautiful cheekbones.

If only the woman below that was as beautiful as the face it belonged to.

Carol was the enemy. Not literally, of course. But she was the enemy. Utterly unsympathetic when you had told her about the death of your best friend in the dusting, you had grown to despise her within mere minutes of a word coming out of her mouth.

She laughed like she didn't notice you glaring. And when she finally locked eyes with you, her lips formed a smirk and kept on giggling.

In the brief days that she had returned to earth, she made it her mission to do everything for the sole purpose of lighting rage inside your chest. No one had the right to make you feel this way, least of all her.

She had returned to earth to "check-in." In the past 3 years since the snap, the world had taken a turn for the worst. Not only was every other person gone, but the death toll was slowly rising. Crime rates were increasing, and the suicide toll was only getting higher.

Every single damn day of your life you had dedicated yourself to helping the people on earth, and the only thing she had on her mind was the big picture. Trying to bring people back that couldn't be brought back. Bullshit.

All you were trying to do was make sure that the people who had left stayed alive.

"Ava? Would you like a scone." She said it in a normal voice, but you could feel the passion behind the words.

"No thank you. I'm careful about what I let others feed me. Because I'm careful. Unlike some other people I know." You say in the most passive and sickly sweet voice you could muster.

"I'm very cautious about keeping myself, and others, safe. I'm just nice enough to do it politely." She responded in the same voice as before.

"Carol, Ava. Do I need to remind you that this is a professional meeting, where we are to talk about important topics only." Nat said in a stone-cold tone. Natasha was never the most playful person, to begin with, but in the past 3 years, things had taken a turn for the worse.

When someone is already flying by the seat of their pants and is about as stable as a bull in a china shop, you tend not to provoke them. And by provoke, I mean of course murdering half of humanity.

"I was being professionally, just Carol here was-"

Natasha sharply cuts you off. " Ava. "

"Fine." You say, internally rolling your eyes.

Carol looks you dead in the eyes and gives you a smirk. Damn this woman.

You had been through hell. You had talking people of bridges, you had stood up for abuse victims in court, you had watched the people you had loved die. You were a stone-cold bitch. But with Carol, you might as well be a 2-year-old with a pair of scissors and a disturbing lack of adult supervision.

Once the meeting was over, you sparked a conversation with Natasha. "Hey Nat, do you wanna get some lunch?"

She looked at you, and then down at her phone, and then at you again. "Um, I can't. Not today." She looks behind her shoulder, and a sinister smirk creeps onto her features. "But I'm sure Carol would love to go out with you."

"Natasha, no. I said no."

Her menacing grin only intensifies. "Oh come on Ava, you could cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife."

"It's not sexual tension. It's just tension. Because we hate each other."

"Mm, I don't think so." She turns over her shoulder and calls to the blonde. "Carol, could you come here for a sec?"

Carol's head perks up, and she walks towards Nat, a scowl forming on her face when she sees that you're next to her. "What is it?"

"Do you want to go to lunch. Will Ava and I?" She questions politely.

"That sounds great, but doesn't Ava have to do that... Thing?"

You turn on your sickly sweet smile for what seems like the ten-thousandth time. "No, I canceled it. Just. To. Have. Lunch. With. You."

Natasha is almost guffawing at this interaction between the two of you. "Alright then, lunch it is!" She starts walking right without any hesitation, and both you and Carol have to run to catch up to her.

"I saw this cute little Italian place. Do you want to go-"

"Chili's." Natasha stops her pace and looks back at you.

"What. It's an incredible experience that I'm sure we'll all enjoy."

It's now Natasha's turn to wear the fake smile. "Great."

You reach Natasha's car, and she quickly whips out her car keys.

"Oh, we're riding together?" Carol exclaims with disgust.

"Yeah, saves energy," Natasha exclaims as she checks her phone.

"I call shotgun!" You counter, trying to do anything to get away from Carol.

"No shotgun. I think it would be nice for the two of you to bond. I wish it was in a bedroom, but a car will do." Natasha says, still looking down at her phone.

"What was that?" You asked, hoping that you didn't hear what you thought you heard.

"No shotgun, window's broken." She replies, opening the door.

You and Carol squeeze into the back seat. It wasn't a tight fit, by any means; but anywhere that isn't 50 feet apart from her is hell on earth. How was she so fucking pretty.

Every time your skin brushed together you shot up as if you had just touched a shock wire. The glares passed between the two of you could freeze even the darkest parts of hell.

As you were getting out of the car, you slammed the door in Carol's face. She opening it, and it was obvious she was pissed.

"Oh come on, you're a fucking superhero, if you're afraid of a car door then you're in the wrong line of work."

She doesn't respond to you and instead flashes you one of her infamous fake smiles.

The Chili's is cozy, with only 15 or so booths, less than 5 of them preoccupied. The hostess kindly led you to a booth, in the corner of the room. You slide into the booth first, and your shoulder pushed against the plastic wallpaper when you moved into your seat.

Carol takes her position in the seat in front of you. Natasha doesn't sit down.

She makes deadly eye contact with you as she pulls her phone out from inside her pocket. "Oh look, I just got a text message." She exclaims, not breaking eye contact.

Natasha quickly flashes you the screen of her phone, showing that in fact, she had not gotten a message. "I have to go. Emergency."

"Are you sure." You say, yet again feigning a smile.

"I'm positive, there's an emergency at work."

Carol attempts to get up and join Natasha before Nat gives Carol a disapproving glance.

"There's always going to be an emergency, but there isn't always going to be lunch." You say, cocking your head and putting on a smirk.

"No," Natasha says. And smiles at the two of you. "Have fun."

You flip her the bird, and without even turning around she returns the favor.

"This is going to be fine." You say.

"Yep," Carol responds, popping the p.

The two of you study the menu for a couple more minutes.

You begin to notice that whenever you adjust yourself Carol does the same, and you do as well, subconsciously.

The waitress walks up to you and politely introduces herself. She asked you what you wanted and, without skipping a beat, you ordered yourself the best thing on the menu, and Carol the worst. She looked as if she was going to protest, but at that point, the waitress had walked away. And all you did was sit there and smirk.

The tension in the room was not sexual. The hatred you felt in your heart for her and the simultaneous need to kiss her and have her kiss you back was not sexual, in any way shape or form.

"So." You promptly exclaimed, in the most positive voice that you could muster.

"Yes," Carol responded, deadlocking her eyes onto yours.

The longer you stared into her eyes the more love you felt. You lost yourself in the depths of her eyes as if you were Alice just entering wonderland. The smile lines surrounding her lips were faded and it seemed as if she hadn't cracked a grin in decades. Her fair hair fell into her eyes, and she quickly brushed it out of the way with one unmanicured finger.

"Why the fuck are we doing this?" She asks, avoiding your gaze.

"What do you mean?" You counter, plastering on another one of your on-brand fake smiles.

"Forcing ourselves to sit in this hell-ish place just for the courtesy of Natasha."

You tilt your head slightly and regain eye contact, "oh, so you want to leave?" You politely ask, knowing all to well the stir that you would get from Nat if you left now.

"No, of course not." She said, rolling her eyes. "But, why would she ever think that I would ever want to be around you for longer than the 5 seconds that are already peeling off my eyes."

"It's nice to see how kind you are to the people around you." You respond, attempting to be as harmful as she was even though you were internally hurt.

"But now that you mention it, I'm realizing how shitty it is that I have to engage in conversation with someone as horrible as you." You winced, and you were positive that she didn't notice either, because she was doing the same.

"What are your powers then, fixing computers?" She mocked you with a smile "oh, the world is ending. Look, someone to get rid of a faulty line on my phone."

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you were a dinosaur. I'm sorry, we don't use phones bolted to the wall in national security." You exclaimed. You wouldn't usually be so harsh, but her words were causing you to lash out.

"At least I can hold up in a fistfight." She said, putting on another mask of a hollow smile.

"I can hold up in a fistfight just fine, but can you hold up with a speakerphone button on an iPhone?" Ah yes, another hollow shot at her prehistoric days.

"You know, for someone how talks all this talk, I'm shocked that you can't actually do anything. Oh wait, I'm not. Sorry, Princess, you're all bark and no bite."

"Excuse me, I forget I was talking to someone who flies around in a space-suit and mohawk." Yet again another fake smile.

The two of you continued to bicker for another few minutes until the waitress comes over with your food.

"I can't believe that you would do such an ignorant f-"

"Hi, I have your food." A woman with a positive attitude and a braid crown places your meals in front of you.

You quickly stopped your argument and the both of you put on yet another fake smile to make it seem like you weren't two seconds away from causing an avengers level threat.

"Thank you so much."

"Really, we really appreciate it."

The second the woman walked away you were back at each other's throats.

But, somehow, Carol was still gorgeous all the while she was yelling at you and eating a shrimp on top of a salad drenched in vinegar.

"Seriously, you're so incompetent." You quickly burst out when she notices you staring.

"Maybe you wouldn't worry so much about me if you were actually doing your job." She responds, rolling her eyes.

"I am sweetie; I'm just good enough at it to be able to pay attention to your uselessness."

"You're too kind." She exclaims as she reaches for a napkin that you quickly pull away from her.

"What I find especially depressing about you is that you will never grow. You're the same person. You're stuck in a box. You will never be better than what you are now. And what you are is shitty." She looks up at you, " Princess ."

You pull back from your meal in shock. You couldn't believe that she had said something like that to you. It pointed out everything you had ever worried about yourself.

"I can't believe you. Why are you so relentlessly horrible to me? What have I done to you? I get when you take cheap shots. I take cheap shots all the time. I don't hate you. Why do you hate me?! I don't hate you! I love you!"

Carol freezes up. Everyone in Chili's looks at you. You were screaming. And you had just told Carol you loved her. You told her you loved her.  You loved her.

"What?" She says in a meek voice.

"I'm so sorry Carol, I was just-" She kisses you.

Carol kisses you.

Carol puts her lips on yours and kisses you.

And you kiss you back.

She's leaning over the table and knocked both your plates off the table and knocked you drinks over. You feel the liquid on your knees as you climb onto the table and place yourself on top of it. You kiss and you kiss until the rest of the world is null and void.

You only pull away for air, and when you're doing so Carol whispers a careful "I'm sorry."

You keep on kissing and kissing.

"I love you, I love you, I'm sorry, I love you." Muttered between you.

You finally pull away and stare into each other's eyes for a minute, basking in the beauty of her blue orbs.

"I feel god in this Chili's tonight." You breathlessly exclaim.

She laughs a beautiful, glorious laugh, and then leans in to kiss you again.

~Requests are open~

New fics out most Saturdays (check on Masterlist or bio in case the day changes) 💜💜💜💜

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers​

Marvel:

TUA:

Criminal Minds:

[joshsandersons]

congrats!!! 🥳 i propose a nsfw kirby dach headcannon 👀

oh my gosh yes of course 👀

Kirby Dach - NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I can see this man literally being the BEST at aftercare alright

He will 100% run you a bath or if you’re too tired to do that, will get a warm cloth and wipe you down with that

He will literally get you anything you need, whether it’s water because you’re thirsty or his shirt because you’re cold

And he’ll leave soft kisses on the places that he bruised from gripping too hard 

Basically he won’t even let you leave the bed unless he’s bringing you to the bath

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Now listen

Kirby is an ass man. Period. 

So he loves your ass

Because it’s so easy to grab, kiss, play with and smack 

Also loves your thighs 

Especially when they’re wrapped around his head, and he loves leaving hickeys on them 

I think his favourite body part on himself would be his hands

Just because they’re so big and he likes seeing them holding onto you yanno

Especially likes seeing them around your neck 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically..., I’m a disgusting person)

He LOVES to cum inside you 

And he especially loves seeing it come out of you when he pulls out 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Listen 

He would not mind if you got pregnant okay 

He doesn’t care if you guys are young, he just wants to put a baby in you 

Especially since he has everything to support you and a baby 

In fact sometimes I swear he hopes you get pregnant

Just because he’d think you’d look SO hot carrying his kid too

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Kirby is young so he hasn’t been with too many people 

But oh my god does he ever know what he’s doing

Especially with his tongue

And he just knows how to hit all the right spots all the time

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

It’s doggy 

Or just taking you from behind in any way 

Because he can have such a great view of your ass and can also grab it

Also because he loves to pull your hair and see your back arch and he KNOWS it hits all the right spots

Will also pull you up by the hair and hold you up against his chest with his hand around your throat 

And he’ll just fuck you niceeeee and slow, but deep 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humours, etc..)

It honestly depends on the situation 

For example if he just had a bad loss he’ll be serious 

Like straight to business, his head is buried between your thighs and he’s going to town, no room for jokes

He just needs to get his frustration out, but he also wants it to be slow and drawn out

But if he’s in a really good mood, it’ll be goofy 

Literally, so much giggling, will even tickle you a little, nice sex 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc..)

Homeboy keeps everything clean down there

He trims the hair regularly to make sure it doesn’t get too long

Also the same shade as his hair 

Maybe a tiny bit darker

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, a romantic aspect..)

His way of showing intimacy is being close to you at all times

So he’s extremely intimate 

Also will also kiss every inch of your body 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

The only time he masturbates is when he’s on a really long road trip

Or even if he’s just away from you and he wants to he’ll just call you up late at night and then you guys do it together

Phone sex is very crucial to him okay

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

O V E R S T I M U L A T I O N 

Kirby absolutely loves to overstimulate you 

He will just bury his head between your thighs and use his tongue and fingers to get you off for hours 

In fact he actually did that a couple of times

L = Location (Favourite place to do it)

Since Kirby lives with other people and their KIDS

He just prefers to do it in the bedroom 

Plus he doesn’t wanna get teased for anything so 

But if no ones home and he knows nobody is gonna be home for awhile 

He will have no problem bending you over the counter and just fucking you hard

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

If he sees you wearing his jersey 

Or just anything with his name

Then that’s it, just get prepared for Kirby to be turned on 

Especially after his games when you guys are leaving to go home

At least every night ends in car sex 

Because he just HAS to have you as soon as he sees you

And it’s maybe happened once or twice in the locker room after everyone left 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

We all know Kirby gives off dom vibes but one thing he would never do is degrade you 

He honestly just loves you too much to do that to you

And he just can’t see himself ever doing it 

O = Oral (Preference in giving, receiving, skill, etc..)

Alright this one I have to say is just a complete 50/50

Because as much as he loves to just go to town on you

He also loves seeing you down on your knees for him 

Especially while he puts his hand in your hair and guides you up and down

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc..)

Again, this honestly depends on how he’s feeling 

If he’s feeling a little sad or upset, he’ll be slow and sensual and be a lot more intimate 

But if he’s in a good mood, he goes fast and hard

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc..)

Quickies have basically become a regular part of your routine I swear 

Because everything you do turns this guy on 

If you guys are getting ready for an event? You bet your ass you’re thrown on the bed for a quick one

He sees you wearing something real nice at a party? He has you bent over the bathroom counter

Anyways yeah he's a horny one so quickies are often

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc..)

Oh

This guy would be SO down to blindfold you and tie your hands to the bed 

As for risks

Kind of? But not really 

He doesn’t want to risk anyone seeing you because you’re his and he won’t like someone else seeing that so

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last..)

Listen

He is a 6′3, young, professional athlete 

He can go on all night if he wants to

Can also last real long too

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Kirby doesn’t like the idea of anything else getting you off

He just wants it to be him

BUT

I mean if you just happened to have a vibrator 

He would totally use it on you 

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

He can either be the most generous lover

Or the most cocky little shit and tease you endlessly 

Most of the time he likes to be cocky

But he likes seeing you squirm and beg for him 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I feel like he isn’t that loud when it comes to moaning and everything

Unless you’re blowing him then his head is thrown back and he’s just moaning and groaning SO loudly 

But most of the time during sex he’s just praising you

“you’re such a good girl”

“you look so good like this baby”

“takin me so well”

njdnckdmkfeovmdk

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

This guy LOVES having you sit on his face

He has such a perfect view on you when you do

And he loves watching your face as he eats you out

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Kirby is 6′3, big hands, big feet

Safe to say he’s PACKING

Probably around 6.5 to honestly 7 inches 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

As mentioned before

Very high 

He can’t go like 2 days without sex I swear

Y’all have a VERY healthy sex life

Z = Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

It takes him at leas 10 to 15 minutes

He needs to wind down 

And he just wants to hold you in his arms for a bit before he does 

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 3 - Her Father’s Daughter

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunvelies @sunwoowuvbot​​

“You want the luxury of a choice? I’ll give one to you right now, so you better make the right one.” ​

“Now, this just coming in-- The next director of Apple-Korea, Lee Juyeon and Hera’s Princess, Kim Jang Won... have been reportedly dating for almost three years now!”

“No!”

“Yes! And get this: this wedding? It’s been on the planning table for almost 6 months!”

Lee Juyeon peers out the window as the car slows to a halt, hazel brown orbs scanning the traffic outside. Multiple LED screens on the sides of corporate buildings were broadcasting the news. The crinkling of a plastic wrapper ruins the beauty the amount of shock amongst the community was bringing Juyeon, cuing him to turn back and face his fellow passenger. The sight of Kim Jang Won awakens his corporate-thinking brain, processing the gravity of the news she falsely put out just about... five minutes ago.

“Your father just climbed out of his own grave and you wouldn’t give him half a day to busk in the spotlight, huh?”

“Mm,” She hums, gracefully taking a bite out of the fruit-yoghurt bar. “I would’ve given him a lifetime worth of spotlight if he came back as a zombie and there would be some sign of actual death but-- nah, he’s been alive since the day we thought he all dropped dead from that heart attack of his. God knows where he’s been the last two years, hiding and letting me build HERA & ARTEMIS... only to take it away from me?” She shakes her head, smacking her lips and taking another bite. “Not a chance.”

Juyeon laughs through his exhales, unsure whether he’s more in disbelief he’s trapped in this chaos or how poised Jang Won’s uncouthness in handling this situation was. His phone buzzes, and he coyly pulls it out to check the message in the screen amongst all the other stupid headlines. 

Young Jin Seol [12.52pm] : You’ve been schedule for a meeting with The Board at 4pm later, sir. 

He locks the device and slides it back into the inner breast pocket of his blazer. “I assume your brother is taking this better than you?”

“Excuse you, I think I’m taking this much better than most people expected me to. Well, better than I expected myself to,” The wrapper crinkles when she finishes it. The car drives up into the entrance of her mansion, easily dozens of reporters already beginning to pillow the car. 

“I have a meeting with The Board later at 4pm. Will you be present?” Juyeon raises a brow, watching Jang Won slide on her sunglasses. Her blue fingernails glimmer as she carefully folds the wrapper, using her tongue to dig the crevices of her mouth. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be, hubby?” She offers a seductive smirk, then unbuckles her seatbelt to lean across to him. Sliding the folded plastic wrapper into his breast pocket, Jang Won presses her cherry lips onto his, earning incessant flashes and shouts from outside the car. 

“Mm, I can still taste the wine and the tad bit of salt you got left from lunch with your Mommy and Daddy.” 

Juyeon frowns, gritting his teeth as she pulls away and exits the car on her side. The shouts and questions directed at her are muffled when she slams the car shut, her bodyguards from the mansion rushing down the steps to create a pathway for her. 

The car finally drives off, and Juyeon can’t help but to sneer in disgust at the cherry shade left on his lips. The grimace on his face nearly earns a snigger from his driver. 

“What? Funny?”

“On the contrary, sir,” He eyes Juyeon through the rear mirror. “I think she’s rather charming.”

Juyeon nearly chokes on his saliva, pulling out a napkin from one of the seat’s back pockets. “‘Charming’ my ass. She’s a dangerous woman and I’m just keeping myself alive.”

BREAKING: LEE JUYEON AND KIM JANG WON TO BE PRESENT AT THE BOARD’S PRESS CONFERENCE AT 4PM LATER THIS AFTERNOON

Mr Ro has the most disapproving look on his face as Jang Won pridefully pushes her way into the entrance hall, heels clacking against the marble and smiling widely at her butler. But of course, her brother shows up from the hallway, clearly dissatisfied.

“What the Hell’s wrong with you? You can’t run off like that and lying to the media!”

“Oh, please. This is nothing. Hey! Can I get my wardrobe and hairstylist down soon? I want to look nothing less of Kylie Jenner at her mother’s funeral at my own press conference!”

“It is exactly because I know you’re just getting started that I think you should stop,” Younghoon quickens his steps, reaching out and grabbing her arm. “You are not only pulling our family into this - you are pulling the Lee family into this.”

“Well, hey! I wasn’t the one who put their son up for sale when the offer came along!”

“But Lee Juyeon didn’t even want to be a part of this! He had no choice because his parents made it for him!”

“And did I?!” Jang Won’s near-shriek echoes through the halls. Mr Ro winces, gently shutting his eyes to regulate the surprise. “You say that of him as if I had a choice. I didn’t want dad to die. I didn’t want to take HERA & ARTEMIS. You think I wanted to spend all those nights and days and shitty bar hangouts with rich people trying to get them to sponsor and invest in HERA & ARTEMIS? Hell, no!”

She tears her wrist out from Younghoon’s grasp, shoving him back by pushing against his left shoulder. “Maybe you don’t know how shitty it feels because all you had to do was wait for HERA & ARTEMIS to become successful enough before you could build your stupid entertainment company. But right now, I’m fighting for what I created; for what I made, and I will tell you right here and right now that I am not stopping until I get what I fucking own so you better... and I really, really, really hope you make the right decision when I say you better pick a side.”

Her brother remains frozen in some kind of resignation as she closes the gap toward him. “Just because we share the same last name, doesn’t mean I will spare you, Kim Younghoon. You want the luxury of a choice? I’ll give one to you right now, so you better make the right one.”

Jang Won turns on her heels and strides past Mr Ro to the stairs, walking up to the second floor where she would spend the next 3 hours getting pampered and fitted for her press conference as the new bride of Lee Juyeon. 

The smile Lee Juyeon has on his face looked like it was programmed; sculpted onto a stone statue; frozen in time. His father almost cannot look at it - even through the television screen, he knows it’s fake. He knows Juyeon hates it. 

But Hera’s Princess couldn’t care less. Why would she? She’s getting what she wanted, or at least, part of it. Now that she’s got Lee Juyeon playing the game by her rules, she’s one step nearer to her goal, and that’s to win back HERA & ARTEMIS from her own father. 

The jewel sitting on her left ring finger shone brightly with every flash a certain camera in the room went off. The Blue Nile Round Diamond 30-carat ring could blind someone if she deliberately shone its reflection into someone’s eyes.

“Today, The Board invites the next director of Apple-Korea and his newly announced fiancé, also known as Hera’s Princess and current owner of HERA & ARTEMIS to our monthly press conference of May. We warmly welcome Lee Juyeon and Kim Jang Won.”

The reporters and journalists provide a rather generous round of applause as Juyeon steps up the platform and takes his seat, Jang Won on his left with the brightest, sweetest smile he’s seen on her in the last six hours. 

“Thank you. We’re absolutely honoured to be here today, my fiancé and I. Today, we announce our upcoming plans up till the end of the year, assuming my father still grants me some kind of authority to HERA & ARTEMIS,” She scoffs the last part of her sentence away, earning some scattered chuckles from the crowd. It irks Juyeon, the way he knows she’s being sarcastic and her words are filled with nothing but the poison of hatred and yet these people can’t hear it for the love of God.

Sympathy, he feels. For a short, fleeting moment, he feels sad for her.

“But otherwise, my father and I have agreed on a major reform of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

Juyeon’s eyes light up, not from enthusiasm, but anxious anticipation.

“Before my father is to take full ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS by June, firstly, we will have our wedding in April,” Coyly grabbing Juyeon’s hands and showing them off to the audience, rings around their fingers. “And secondly, after my fiancé advances to director, Apple-Korea will buy 50% of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

The effort Juyeon was investing into hiding his shock, confusion and frustration in his chest was of immense, ground-breaking magnitude. His grip around her hand tightens, and she tightens her jaw, forcing out a smile when the reporters and journalists break out into murmurs and surprised exchanges.

“My brother, Kim Younghoon, will assume full ownership of Artemis as a separate entertainment company, no longer attached to HERA & ARTEMIS. Artemis will become a collaborator or partner, no longer a subsidiary.”

The panel of officials from The Board looked extremely restless from the corner of Juyeon’s eyes, and he finds trouble in deciding which to offer more attention to: the fact that one single person was intelligent enough to send the entire world of The Board into chaos, or the fact that she was already making use of him even before he assumed the role of director. 

Her fingers are now interlocked with his, resting on the table as the camera flashes go off, illuminating the room every other second. 

THE BOARD’S MAY PRESS CONFERENCE: 

LEE-KIM WEDDING IN APRIL, LEE JUYEON TO ASSUME DIRECTOR OF APPLE-KOREA IN MAY AND BUY 50% OF HERA & ARTEMIS, KIM JO-PIL TO ASSUME OWNERSHIP OF THE OTHER 50% IN JUNE, KIM YOUNGHOON TO ASSUME FULL OWNERSHIP OF ARTEMIS AFTER DETACHMENT, “ARTEMIS TO BECOME PARTNER OR COLLABORATOR”, KIM JANG WON SAYS

Younghoon’s inhales sharply, standing and frowning at the television screen after finally being unable to contain his shock. The reflection off the pool outside his living room paints inconsistent waves on his ceiling, the sound of pool water wading being the only thing he can hear besides the commotion from the broadcasted press conference. 

Scoffing aggressively, he covers his mouth and drags his fingers down to his chin, pulling on his skin and pursing his lips into a thin, white line. 

“Father, you have made the grave mistake of underestimating your daughter,” Younghoon smiles, then grins widely, somehow proud. “Her father’s daughter after all.”

Jang Won’s smile beams throughout the room, and for a split second Juyeon is mesmerized by it. Her eyes have been planted with the horrors of nightmares and terrible myths combined and yet there was something about that smile that made him think ‘Maybe being your fiance wouldn’t be too bad’.

“Before we open up the floor to the invited reporters and journalists, would Mr Lee like to say anything?” One of the officials from The Board finally gets up, hiding his confusion and anxiety behind his polite, service smile. 

Lee Juyeon sits up straight in his seat, thumb gently massaging hers as he resumes the act. Jang Won’s service smile remains coded into her lips, eyes loving as she turns to him. 

The whole world is watching, Juyeon. He thinks. The whole world is watching you put up this act, being in love with Hera’s Princess - arguably the most cunning name tied to The Board. Choose her and she’ll give you what you want. Choose otherwise and who knows what will happen?

“Mr Lee?”

“I think my fiancé has said everything that’s on my mind, haven’t you, love?” Juyeon smiles sweetly, eyes folding into long, thin lines. The curl of her lips are of triumph when she knows he’s bought into what she offered him; what she promised him. She cannot do this without him and he knows this, but what better way than to assert his authority than to pair up with the most powerful female in this shitty world?

Kim Younghoon’s eyes widen, fingers digging deep into the material of the cushion on his sofa as he watches Juyeon remove his hands from Jang Won’s, instead cupping her cheeks and bringing her face to his. 

Mr Ro strides past the first guestroom, hearing the sound of the news playing on the television in the room. He looks through the gap of the door that was left ajar, cautiously watching Kim Jo-Pil nervously swirling a glass of whiskey in his hands as the next director of Apple-Korea tilts his head, on screen.

“Play along, would you?” He whispers, and Jang Won’s pride surges when he presses his lips into hers. The floor of reporters and journalists erupt into questions and cameras go off like Donald Trump had just been shot dead. 

Kim Jo-Pil freezes, watching the whole press conference room light up with fluorescent flashes. But Mr Ro can’t help the jolt when Kim Jo-Pil deliberately flings the glass into the floor, pieces flying across the wooden flooring. 

“She’s her father’s daughter after all, sire.”