#AND ALSO I bear a long time grudge

[pileofsith]

I'm super jealous of that period in time where they used to make figures of the most obscure star wars characters ever!

And now I'm frothing at the mouth, muttering under my breath, gnashing teeth, etc. about how the characters I'd like figures of had actual speaking roles and proper screen time and and and--

[hpowellsmith]

of all my characters I think Matia is the one with the largest gap between how easygoing they think they are and how easygoing they actually are when it comes down to it

[felassan]

July 15th Game Informer article on BioWare's companion design philosophy in DA:TV - cliff notes:

DA:TV wasn't made with the intention of making a sequel or 'the same again as DA:I'. They wanted to do something different

The companions are key to everything in DA:TV; the special centerpiece, load-bearing pillars. The studio uses the phrase "DA is about characters, not causes"

These are the most fully realized, complex, fleshed out & complicated companions from BioWare yet (and DA's best). They have stories of their own, and roles both in and out of combat. They are authentic and relatable

For the first time in the series, BioWare feels that they have purposefully and intentionally created great companions. In previous entries, they sort of 'stumbled' onto great companions

Rook goes on a journey with the companions, rather than how it felt in previous games where the companions are more like going on an adventure with the PC

The companions have complicated problems. We will explore how they think and feel, and help them through their problems. They participate in the game's dark parts and optimistic parts

Corinne: "They feel like my dear friends, and I absolutely adore them"

Corinne quote: "We've really moved into a place where you can have the highest of highs, and it can be colorful, it can be optimistic, but also, you can have the lowest of lows where it gets gritty, it gets painful, it gets quite dark. But throughout it all, there is a sense of optimism. And it creates this delightful throughline throughout the game." 

When creating DA:TV one of BW's principles was that the world exists even when you/Rook isn't around, with ancient conflicts, grudges and more going on. Rook kind of comes in in the middle of some of these plots

John quote: "For example – the Grey Wardens are an interesting faction but by themselves, they don't tell a story, but there are characters within that faction that do. And the same thing with other characters in the story. They represent these factions, they show the face of the other parts of Thedas and of the storytelling we really want to do, which, again, shows Thedas as this large, diverse living world that has things going on when you're not there. [...] Where can Rook come into [the companions'] stories, and what interesting ways can those stories develop not just based on themselves but also based on Rook's presence within them?"

Companions are the faces of their factions. Some, like Bellara, are the faces for an entire area of the world

BW hopes that the companions' visual design challenges and excites cosplayers. Matt Rhodes: "The previous art director had the mindset we should make things easier for [cosplayers], which I think is a misunderstanding of cosplayers. We've seen the kind of challenges they're willing to take on, and so we've gone for, in some cases, a level of complexity and detail"

Tevinter is an oppressive, totalitarian regime that has slavery. "If you’re not a mage in Tevinter, you are lower than dirt for a lot of people". A damaging regime has taken over Minrathous

The Shadow Dragons are a rebel faction that fight back against this Tevinter mage-ocracy (so does Neve)

Neve believes that good exists in Tevinter. She's there for the common people, and believes in fighting oppression and tyranny. She represents the voice of the streets and the common people. BW "wanted to have a character that showed not just what is Tevinter at the top, but what is the average person who lives in Tevinter"

Detective Neve is also about finding clues and ways through problems that aren't as action-focused as some of the other companions

The writer Wesley of Game Informer thinks that DA:TV is sure to be "multiple dozens of hours long"

In combat, companions have their own autonomy and behaviors. They pick their own targets

As their plots progress, they learn how to use their abilities more competently in battle. "It feels like we're all in it together"

In battle, strategy, progression and a sense of teamwork comes into play as the party's leader, Rook. "It is a game about creating this organic sense of teamwork."

Vulnerabilities can be used synergistically

Bellara can slow time

Harding has devastating attacks with 'knock down' effects

Corinne quote: "Now, there are more explicit synergies as well. We very much have intentional combos where your companions can play off each other, you can queue up abilities between them, and each of those abilities will go off and have their effect. But it results in this massive detonation where you get enhanced effects, debuff the entire battlefield, all because of planning and teamwork. What makes it really cool is you can introduce Rook into that equation as well. One of my favorite things to do is upgrade some of Harding's abilities so she will automatically use some of these abilities that normally I'd have to instruct her to do. And she'll actually set my character up to execute that combo that, again, has that detonation effect." 

Outside combat, companions have their own concerns, fears and distractions

Companions have their own personal spaces. They each have their own room in the Lighthouse. These sanctuaries become reflections of who they are. "The more time you spend with them, as the game develops as you work through their arc, their room and their personalities will evolve and flourish and become more complete as they trust you more and you understand them better."

The companions also develop romantically, sometimes with each other. Corinne: "There are moments in the game where two of our companions fell in love with each other and I had to make some pretty challenging choices as it related to the quest we're on. And it broke my heart, it absolutely did"

Get to know and learn about the companions in the Lighthouse. "It endears them to you in a way that I honestly haven't experienced before."

There are joy-filled moments and heart-breaking moments in the game wrt the companions

[source]

[ellapurnellmybeloved]

fluff alphabet |clarisse la rue

author's note: Hi lovelies, please send me requests! I don't know what gave me the confidence to think I can write, probably delusion. Also, this is according to my personal views of Clarisse so don't be mad if it's different from what you've imagined. Leave a comment, I love interacting with people, xx.

warnings: I tried my best to keep it gender/race/cabin neutral for the most part but there are still some feminine coded things here and there. English is not my first language so excuse any grammar mistakes.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Starting off strong because with Clarisse sparring is a must. Although she doesn't like to think there will ever come a time in which she won't be there to protect you, it's still an essential part of life as a half-blood. And who better to train you than the daughter of war herself? And in case the apprentice becomes the master and you happen to beat her or pin her to the ground or even hold your dagger to her neck? Oh boy, she's done for. Actual heart eyes.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She pretty much loves everything about you, she can't really just choose one aspect. Though, if she had to, she'd probably say she loves you for being supportive, understanding, and patient with her. You understand her better than anyone. That's what made her know you were the one for her. You can control her anger issues and calm her down when she's on the verge of exploding and she thinks that's beautiful.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc?

The art of intimacy or comfort never came easy to Clarisse. Her relationship with her mother isn't the best and hasn't been for a while now and her father is a grade A asshole. Her first instinct when you're feeling down is to fix it, to ask you who or what happened and give them a physical piece of her mind, but that's not always how it works. She'll pull you to her lap and hold you through the night or for as long as you need, wiping your tears and kissing your cheeks. She'll let you vent your heart out. You can tell her anything. Or nothing, if you prefer. She's not the best with words but her actions speak much louder.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

She's never thought that much ahead if she's being honest. Never allowed herself to daydream too much into the future, choosing to live off the present for now. Sometimes, however, she pictures what could be only described as an utopia; to go on such a fantastical quest that the gods can't help but grant the both of you immortality, that way you'd bask in the glory of your love forever and ever.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

On the outside looking in it would seem Clarisse is the dominant one for sure. And in some ways she is; she likes that you can rely on her, she wants to provide for you, yearns to prove herself capable of such. Still, you're the one in charge. Clarisse is completely devoted to you, and your relationship means more to her than anything she's ever felt before. She cherishes it like no other, always at your beck and call.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Clarisse is intense, that much we know. Her anger runs deep and her passion burns red. She's not perfect, and doesn't try to hide it either. She's hot-tempered, arrogant, she's got a short fuse and she holds grudges. Her fatal flaw is pride, which sometimes gets in the way of her good senses, so you'll most likely be the one apologizing first. Despite all that, she can't bear the thought of you being mad at her and absolutely hates fighting with you. It's like it's tearing her apart, especially if you're sad over something she said or did in the heat of the moment. Truth is, she is a fighter at heart so when all is said and done she'll try and make it up to you in some way, somehow.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

She is so appreciative of everything you do and are. As previously stated, Clarisse didn't get much love growing up so any semblance of that is something she clings hard to. She notices everything, every little thing you do for her and the underlying of your words. How you treat her and others is always stored in the back of her mind and she loves to be loved by you.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Clarisse is a very closed off person in general, she doesn't like feeling exposed and being possibly seen as weak. She'll tell you things but there's still some matters you have to pick up on your own and know how to approach them, especially regarding her feelings and personal struggles. She's very honest though, she feels like she owns you that much and appreciates you if you do the same for her. The more your relationship progresses you'll notice being able to read her like an open book because although she does her very best to hide it there's an underlying vulnerability to her behavior in certain moments you'll take proper notice of the more you know her.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Clarisse has definitely become more gentle since you. It still doesn't extend to your friends and family but more so how she behaves around you and knowing she doesn't have to put up that though front all the time. Her sense of self worth has improved as well, especially when you reassure her through her insecurities and doubts (never being the son her father wanted etc.)

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Oh, boy. Clarisse’s jealousy is very fuelled by… Well, anything really. She doesn't necessarily need a motive to go toe to toe with someone, just staring at you for a second longer than she deems them worthy of and she's ready for a fight. It's hard for anyone to get close enough to flirt with you because she's always there, by your side, kind of like a guard dog. But only because she knows how amazing you are and her insecurities do blurry some lines on what's acceptable. She's working on it though.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Clarisse is definitely a good kisser. She doesn't have much experience, if any, but she's a natural. It sounds cheesy but the first time she kisses you was like butterflies and church bells dancing loudly in the wind. The way she cups your face so uncharacteristically soft and how she breaks off the kiss with a series of small pecks only to smile one of her beautiful smiles so close to each other's faces… Magical. It could be at the fireworks on the fourth of July or it could be in your favorite spot in the woods, soaked in lake water during a midnight swim or after a heated argument. No matter how many times Clarisse kisses you, she'll never not feel electricity similar to her spear’s sharp edge digging into her body and soul.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Clarisse does not have a clue what she's doing. I feel like she'd say something in the heat of the moment; either confessing her true feelings or masking them by saying something hurtful she doesn't actually mean. In the latter scenario she'd storm off and berate herself over it but her pride and fear that you'd never look at her again made her put off her apology for some time and let it all sink in to talk to you when she's ready. That is until you start properly ignoring her and she nearly goes crazy with longing, just missing your overall presence and having her stomach turn to knots at the way things were left between you two. That's one of the few times Clarisse sucks it up and reaches for you. The apology is awkward but overwhelmingly honest and she tells you she's an idiot but you're content in forgiving her and giving her a second (actual first) chance.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Again, Clarisse never thought she'd live to see the day she'd actually have a marriage prospect. Her life just doesn't seem complete without you anymore and the moment she realizes that she's done for. It would probably be while you're laying in bed together, your head on her chest while you play with her fingers. Your eyes are heavy with sleep but hers are wide open, thinking. “Will you marry me?” said while staring into the distance and you probably think she's joking except Clarisse is not one to joke about that sort of thing. “Not now. But eventually.” and whether you ask if she's serious or just accept it right away, she'd look at you seriously for a beat and then tackle you into a bear hug, crushing you underneath her. She doesn't see the point in a big wedding, but if that's what you're into, she won't mind.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

She is not immune to babe or baby but would still like to keep some variety. Things like sunshine, gorgeous, angel or others (I'm looking at you, person who created the “mama/s” HC). She does like your name very much, or probably a shortened version of it. Don't expect her to not tease you if any of these make you flustered.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Clarisse likes to think she's good at hiding it when she's absolutely not. As Taylor Swift once said, you can hear it in the silence. Just the way her eyes soften when she's looking at you speaks millions, but people also get whiplash at how fast her mean attitude changes whenever you're around. Her love giving languages are probably acts of service and physical touch. She loves to do things for you, feeling all big and mighty whenever she can make your life just a little easier. Touching is also a must but we'll get to that in a second.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Clarisse is not very comfortable with public displays of affection, because she is afraid of being judged or mocked by others for being weak or soft. She prefers to keep her relationship with you private and intimate, but doesn't mind the little things. She does gloat about being with you as well as showing you off, so that everyone on camp knows you're hers. She brags about you all the time and I mean, seriously, all the time. She's not a big hand holder but she almost over compensates by grabbing at your hips and thighs, throwing an arm over your shoulder or hiding her face in your neck. She especially loves bonfires when you sit on her lap and she can hold firmly onto your waist while she's talking to her siblings or just press her forehead against yours when her social battery is low.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

She's very perceptive. She may not know what has changed right away but she's also persistent so she'll figure it out in an instant. If it's the way you did your hair or something that happened along your day, even if you change your usual greeting. She notices and she'll definitely ask you about it.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Clarisse wants to be loved, that's all she’s ever wanted, and she has so much love to give, therefore I believe she'll do just about anything to make you happy. That includes being an absolute sap. She honestly doesn't mind how cliche it is, if it works on you, you bet she's using it. If anyone cares to say anything remotely negative about you or your relationship she will promptly glare them into oblivion or give them something to really worry about.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

She is your absolute biggest supporter. Especially if you don't believe in yourself, then she's trying even harder for you to see just how well you can do something if you put your mind to it. With something like sword training she is more than willing to help you, rewarding you with kisses and cursing you for distracting her with your pretty face.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Clarisse doesn't mind change, she rolls with it. If you have a certain way of doing things, a routine you like to follow, that's fine by her. If you're unpredictable, even better. She just loves to see what comes next in terms of your relationship, not necessarily needing anything to amplify her love for you. It's already hardwired into her.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

She knows you like the back of her hand. Even the slightest furrow of your eyebrows or tilt of your head and she'll be there in a second asking what's wrong. She does learn to be more empathetic towards your own struggles, which was hard at first because she wasn't sure how to see things from someone else's point of view. Though road but you make it work.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

She doesn't have much to look forward to so Clarisse values her relationship with you very highly, as you are one of the few people who can see past her tough and aggressive exterior and appreciate her softer and more vulnerable side. She is fiercely loyal and protective of you, and would do anything to keep you safe and happy.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

I actually read this one on a Wattpad story a while ago so credit to the original creator but, Clarisse has a teddy bear named Mr. Muscles she's had since she was like, nine and she cherishes it like it's her most prized possession. When she introduced this piece of information to you, you just found her so incredibly adorable you couldn't contain the giggles and she gets so hot in the face she pushes you off her bed and it's honestly one of the most memorable moments in your relationship.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I headcanon Clarisse as your personal furnace as well as a koala bear so kisses and cuddles are a must, especially if it's cold outside. She loves to take naps with you, it gets to the point where she has trouble sleeping without you (so you give her a vial of your perfume to spray on Mr. Muscles for when you're away).

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Clarisse with you: 🥰

Clarisse without you: 😡

She gets snappier than usual and easily annoyed but she'll also get really sad because she's never had to deal with being away from you. Her siblings try to cheer her up by shoving some kid's head into the toilet but she's so disinterested in anything that does not involve you she just goes about her days training until she can see you again and show off her muscles.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

The answer is yes, one hundred percent. “Touch her and you die” trope goes so hard. Not only that but she would willingly sacrifice the world and herself for you and your relationship. She would go out of her way to make sure you are okay, that you are fed and hydrated and well rested, even messing up her own sleeping schedule in order to take better care of you.

[moongreenlight]

GIRLIE PLS I NEED MORE YOUNG HOUSEWIFE x PRICE 😭😭

Instead of starting every ask response with “sorry it took me so long to get to this I suck” I’m just going to issue a blanket statement that I have like 45+ asks in my inbox rn and I get so overwhelmed looking at them that I just ignore them until I need to write something. I love you all for messaging me I love hearing your ideas and compliments please don’t stop sending them just bear with me as I sift through them. <3

Also- I got legit death threats on my first post like this. I’d like to make this ABUNDANTLY CLEAR that this is a LEGAL AGE GAP. It’s not grooming, it’s not predatory, it’s ENTIRELY LEGAL. You’re early twenties. He’s mid-to-late-thirties. Please do not bite my head off.

Anyway I’m back on my Price and his young housewife bullshit below the cut. Xoxoxo

Here’s the OG post if you need a refresher

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

There’s this scene in the MW3 campaign where Price and Farah are talking about where she got the missiles from and he’s trying to shoulder up with her, but she just shuts him down in the end. (Like always I hope you’ll trust me. Implicitly) (John Price the man that you are!!!!!!) and I really think that’s the household dynamic. He’s always the biggest in the room, but he’s got this incredible reverence and respect for women who can out-bitch him. Bends his rigid spine BACKWARDS for you. Would move mountains if you’d only ask.

Doesn’t always have to be serious things. Like maybe you’ve made friends with some moms in the neighborhood (it’s a point of pride for him that they’re all minimum 5 years older than you.) and they all go to this obscenely expensive Pilates class at six in the morning. You mention in passing that you’re signing up and the suburban white dad in him makes his ears perk.

“‘N how much ‘s this class going to cost me?”

“Dunno. Think it just goes on the account.”

“Course. Gym membership doesn’t cost enough as it is.”

And then all it takes is him seeing you in a matching workout set for all of his protest to die down. For SURE makes a comment about how he ‘didn’t know it’d be this worthwhile’

Loosely following that point, I think any real arguments get hostile very quickly. He’s not so egotistical that he won’t apologize, but I’m certain that it’s like pulling teeth to get him to that point. He can hold a grudge unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Borders heavily on immature when the two of you are in the thick of things. Starts shit just to start shit. (Secretly because he just loves makeup sex. Would rather eat you out until you’re sobbing than actually say the words “I’m sorry.”)

Having thoughts about him bringing you to some military ball. The both of you dressing up and sliding into the car that was sent for you just to sit on opposite ends of the backseat and not speak a single word. He burns through a cigar in record time and you toss back a few glasses of champagne. You both put on appearances getting out of the car. Hook your hand around his bicep while he shoves you inside with his hand on the small of your back. Hissing nasty quips back and forth about making this quick. Few hellos. Show your faces and then you can get home and get away from each other. Putting on appearances only goes so far, though, because when John is pissed- everyone feels it. Sucks the life out of a room and replaces it with an eerie feeling like a bomb’s about to go off.

He leaves you alone with a few other wives. Pulled away by Laswell with a promise of a ‘quick’ meeting. He comes back half an hour later fuming when he sees that somehow you’ve been pulled away from where he left you and found company chatting with his boys at the bar.

He gruffs some greetings before dragging you away by the arm so roughly that you have to stifle a yip.

“Are we leaving?”

“No.”

“So what is it, John? You’re making everyone think we’re miserable.”

“We are miserable.”

He’s yet to stop yanking you away. You have to do an awkward half-jog to follow him down a short hallway just outside the washrooms.

“Christ, would you just-“

“You look like a slag in that dress.”

He about throws you straight into the corner at the end of the hall. Muscles in his jaw ticking under the force that he’s using to grit his teeth.

“Sorry?”

His lips are brushing the shell of your ear. Bullying you further back into the wall. You’re entirely taken aback by his ferocity; especially because he usually prefers you wear something much more revealing than this. Some twisted point of pride, him seeing all the men your age drooling over you even after knowing you’re on his arm.

“Ought to let the boys pass you around. See if that won’t sort out that fucking attitude of yours.”

Theres some more protest from you, but it was entirely useless given how worked up he was. He ends up making good on his threat and shoving you into Ghost’s side when he brings you back out. He says something, but you can barely hear it over the blood rushing in your ears. Though you assume it’s a half-warning, half-explanation by the way Ghost snakes an arm loosely around your waist and gives a sharp nod. You get off relatively easy all things considered because Ghost is the only one smart enough not to take Price’s words at face value and sneak you away to some coat closet. That’s a permission granted only when John was present and in his right mind.

I cannot stress enough how much it gets him off to see you pregnant. Not like sexually, but he is nothing if not a glutton when it comes to feeding his ego. Likes it when you wear shirts that hug your swollen belly tight so he can see exactly how much your body is changing. Even better if they’re crop-tops that show off the skin that’s now littered with stretch-marks from growing his babies.

I have been saying this, but just to make it clear, he wants a small army of children. Like enough to have one of those trashy reality TV shows about how many kids you have. (In reality I’m getting 4/5 kids in total vibes) Loves coming home from work and seeing you carefully stirring a big pot on the stove while bouncing a baby on your hip, pulling a clingy toddler around on your leg, and situating your school-aged kids with their homework at the table.

But he most definitely hires a live-in nanny to help you out. Knows it’s not fair to leave you with that kind of responsibility. But also it just makes him so hot to see you mothering his kids that he needs to be able to take you away and not have to scramble to find something to occupy the kids.

Makes the nanny take over bath time more often than not so the two of you can take a bubble bath yourselves. He loves the casual intimacy of pouring two glasses of wine and having thirty or forty minutes to yourselves.

Having this visual of you before you’ve started having kids sitting in the tub after being strangely quiet all night. He offers you a heavily-poured glass of red and you’re a little glassy-eyed and staring up at him but making no move to take it.

“You alright, doll?”

“Mm?”

“Said you alright? Don’t want a drink?”

A long moment of silence from you. Long enough for him to perch on the rim of the tub and gently tip you up to look at him by putting a few fingers under your chin.

“John, I think I’m pregnant.”

“So no drink, then.”

[prentissluvr]

literary parallels — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : light angst, fluff ➖⟢ cw : small injuries, few seconds of physical fighting (self-defense), no use of y/n, you have a dad and i gave him a name (rick lol), mentions of death of loved ones, sort of case fic, kinda ignores canon timeline in terms of a few minor things but canon doesn't matter much in this fic lol, poorly edited most likely ➖⟢ wc : 3.6K summary : sam is someone from your past at stanford university, and the last place you expect to see him again is on a case. that's exactly where you find him. i plan on doing a part two for this one in the future! :))

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

today is one of those days where the reality of your life feels strange, unwelcome, and somewhat foreign. it’s not as if you’re new to the hunting life; it’s just the opposite, and yet, you often feel removed from it, especially after having lived normally at college for a few years. but you were ripped back into hunting without being able to finish your degree by your father after the death of your closest cousin. 

so now you’re cooped up in a crappy motel room searching endlessly through detailed lore websites and the few books you have on you, trying to make sense of the odd patterns of killings in the small california town. that’s part of the pit in your stomach for today; the beach town, cayucos, is only three hours from stanford. 

being so close to your former university after almost a whole year brings back a whole lot of mixed feelings. mostly longing for the normalcy that you loved and lost, but also a renewed urgency to find what killed your cousin. she had been studying at a different college just an hour inland from you. when she died, you had wanted to salt and burn her body and move on. but when your father showed up with proof of odd circumstances, he pursuaded you to rejoin him in the hunting life.

the deaths in cayucos are certainly odd, but they lack the defining features that would allow you to identify the creature at fault. so, you’re searching for anything with a grudge against hot men and a killing cycle of seven years since those are about the only patterns so far. your dad is at the coroner’s office, meeting with an old hunter friend to check out the body of the latest victim.

that’s been another reminder of your brief time at a normal school with normal friends and normal hobbies. when your dad first told you he called in a friend to help, he’d asked you, “d’you remember john winchester? you met him once when you were a kid, he’s an old buddy of mine.” you shook your head and he shrugged, saying something about how it makes sense; you were young and only met him once. but the name stuck in your mind as he left, and it had nothing to do with hunting or when you were a kid on the road, stuck in motels, school if you were there long enough, or the town library if you were lucky.

that name, or the last name anyway, comes from the stanford part of your life, the one you keep cherished in the most protected corners of your heart. sam winchester was one of your few friends during your time there, and after hearing his family name spoken aloud, he’s floating through your mind all day.

he disappeared after jess, his girlfriend and one of your other few friends, died, mere weeks before your own cousin died and you left standford as well. you’ve always wondered what happened to him, the best conclusion you could come to being that he couldn’t bear her death. they were absolutely in love with each other, but you know jess would have wanted him to finish at stanford, then head to that law school he was bound to get that full-ride to. sam always had an air of strength about him, so it surprised you when you never saw him again. he wasn’t even at her funeral, and to this day, that’s your singular bone to pick with him. 

but, you can’t afford to think about him too much as you search for answers about the case. abandoning the lore websites for the meantime, you look over the police records of all the deaths that you can find, hoping to draw together any more patterns that you can use to narrow down your research. you’re jotting down a few notes, thinking you may have found something regarding accounts of a few of the men being last seen with a woman, when your train of thought is interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.

on instinct, you draw your gun as you cross the room, looking through the peephole and silently cursing when you realize the light out front has gone out. all you can make out is the tall, broad silluete of a man thanks to the dimness of the twighlight sky.

you wait for a moment at the door, hoping he’ll just walk away after he doesn’t get an answer. but you’re unlucky, and he knocks again before calling out, “hello? rick sent me here to … help with the case, he said his kid was here. i’m john winchester’s son, sam.”

if you were in an old-timey cartoon, your jaw would’ve dropped to the floor. sam … sam winchester. it sounds just like him. trying to keep your head, you swap your gun for a nearby canteen of holy water and slip a silver knife into your pocket for accessibility. it’s too much of a coincidence for you to believe it.

you crack the door, just enough for him to hear you a bit better. “sam winchester? like stanford full-ride, lawyboy sam winchester?”

“i– how do you–” there’s a moment of silence, and you know that he’s piecing together the few clues he has; your voice and the last name you must share with your dad, the man he knows as rick. his voice is just as cautious as yours as he says your name like he can’t really believe it.

for a moment, you stop thinking when you hear his voice saying your name after so long, and you throw open the door and let him in. the light from the motel room finally illuminates his face, and it’s him, it’s really him. and the moment you think that is the moment you realize that could absolutely not be the case.

the second he turns to you from closing the door, you’re splashing holy water in his face so fast you barely catch the look he was about to give you; eyes so full of surprise and wonder and confusion and something akin to joy. you react quickly to his lack of reaction besides the normal surprise at getting splashed in the face, slashing at his arm with your silver knife to finish testing him. but he reacts just as fast as you, grabbing both of your wrists, spinning you around and pinning you to the flat surface of the door.

his hold is quite strong, but he doesn’t have the time to bear his full weight into holding you down before you react, so you’re able to manuever out of his hold with practiced ease. you lift one arm up as you yank the other down to make it so you’re able to slip down and to the side, out of his hold. then you’ve got a strong hand to his back, shoving him face-first against the door and your other arm bringing your knife to his throat.

the thought that his profile view with his pulled-taut eyebrows and the grimace on his mouth looks pretty has the audacity to float up to the forefront of your mind before you can squash it down. the whole struggle had taken mere seconds, and he resigns the minute you’ve got him pinned down.

“it’s me,” he pants, “i swear. ‘m not a shapeshifter or ghoul or anything, it was just instinct. sorry,” he explains quickly, “go ahead, test me.”

you debate saying “don’t mind if i do,” but decide that you don’t have to be teasing or snarky about it. instead, you tamp down your hesitance to hurt him, even a little bit because he still sort of feels like innocent, regular, lawboy sam to you, and you draw a thin line of blood at the spot where his neck slopes into his broad shoulder. there’s no burning, just a normal wince from his mouth, so you loosen your hold on him and step back, internally cringing at the small bit of blood beginning to slip down towards his collarbone.

“sorry,” you say, far more sincere than you would be if it’d been anybody else. this is the norm for hunters, but you haven’t quite wrapped your mind around the fact that sam is a hunter. you’d never once would have guessed, though you suppose that was the point. you had done everything you could to hide that part of your life during your time at stanford.

“it’s fine,” he gives you an awkward half-smile, just as sincere as you. “just, y’know, your turn.” you’d been so busy taking in the sight of him standing there, looking almost exactly the same, but not quite, as he had in college, that you forgot about the courtesy of testing yourself too.

“right,” you clear your throat, “of course.” without the hesitance any normal person would have, you take the knife to your forearm and splash a bit of holy water on your skin. “there we go. no demons or shapeshifters or the like. that’s good.” you feel incredibly awkward all of the sudden, still so bewildered and thrown off balance by the collision of your two words. it feels like too much of a coincidence for you to be this close to your old school, be thinking about sam winchester, a symbol of that old life, then for him to show up and flip your whole entire understanding of him. there’s just about a million things running through your mind at just about a million miles per hour and it’s starting to make your head hurt.

the movement of his hand, reaching up to hold the small cut you gave him is what brings you out of your short lived reverie.

“god, i’m sorry. let me get you something for that.” you don’t give him the time to politely tell you, “no, it’s okay,” like you know he would before you’ve turned your back and crossed the room to grab a first aid kit from your bag and some rubbing alcohol from the bathroom. “sit down,” you urge him when you turn back to him, motioning towards the table you’d been seated at when he arrived.

he complies and once again, you’re thinking about the strangeness of sharing this sort of space with him. you’re used to seeing him in libraries so big that they’re almost grand for quiet study sessions or in the dining hall with his nose buried in a book or in the lecture hall where you first met him in a gen-ed class. you’re used to seeing him on one of the grassy quads with jess by his side or him in the big, open, and fancy old university buildings. now he looks right at home in the dingy motel room, so small it feels like his tall, broad frame shouldn’t fit in here, so dim that his sometimes blue or green eyes look sort of muddy. they’re pretty, nonetheless.

you set the first aid kit on the table and pull out a large bandaid and a bit of gauze. you reasses the cut to be sure he doesn’t need any other sort of bandaging and almost sigh in relief when you see how shallow it is. sam doesn’t speak or protest that he’s fine to do it himself as you pull the collar of his t-shirt aside just a bit. you’re sure his mind’s busy with a whole load of questions for you, just like you for him. the brush of your knuckles against his skin suddenly makes his presence feel more real. whatever contact you’d had during the short-lived fight you’d had was completely surreal; you weren’t sure he was really even sam, and if he was, it would feel like a lie anyways, for his hands to be rough or so quick in a fight.

he doesn’t so much as wince when you press alcohol soaked gauze to the cut, and though the wound is small and shallow enough that you’re sure it barely stings, it still feels like a sign of his being a hunter, being used to pain. you don’t like that thought; sweet, sincere, and ever so smart sam being used to pain. as you take care of the cut, he lets his eyes wander around the room, probably taking in how familiar it is, and how weird that it’s your motel room and all of your belongings packed into a single bag and your computer screen displaying hacked into police reports and the very same lore websites he frequents to solve a tricky case.

when you’re done he thanks you with a small smile and you take the seat across from him. as your fingers had brushed over his bare skin and felt a whisper of his strong shoulders, you’d gotten the strong urge to hug him. you missed him even more than you thought. that urge doesn’t leave when you move away from him.

you make a confused face at sam when he reaches for the first aid kit and pulls out another set of bandaids and gauze. he just hands you a gauze now soaked with alcohol and nods at you.

“for your arm,” he explains, because you’ve already forgotten about that as you accept it with a questioning brow.

“right,” you chuckle softly, swiping over the cut with the gauze, then taking and applying the bandaid that sam opened for you. when you’re done you have to drag your eyes up to meet sam’s gaze. there’s tension in the room, and though it’s not bad per se, it’s begging to be addressed and you’re not sure how to even start. it seems like sam’s not sure either.

so, you choose to jump right into the fire.

“it’s so good to see you, sam,” you confess, pushing all your sincerity into your voice, “i mean, this is absolutely insane and i can’t quite wrap my mind around it, but i guess i don’t really care because it’s so good to see you. i worried about you so much after … after jess died, i mean, you just dissappeared and … and i can imagine that has something to do with the fact that you’re a hunter, which is sort of incomprehensible to me, but–,” suddenly you’re hit with a new realization. if sam’s disappearance had to do with the supernatural, you wonder if jess’s death did too. but you don’t want to ask, not right now. “oh, god, and i never got to tell you how sorry i am. i– i mean. i can’t imagine.” there’s where your voice trails off and you look to sam to be the one to say something now.

“thanks,” he answers simply, voice gentle but a little pained, rightfully so. “she was your friend, too. i mean, we were all friends. and i’m sorry i disappeared like that. i, um, well, you’re right. hunting dragged me away. it’s complicated and i’ll explain it to you later. you deserve to know what happened to jess, but– but it’s a lot.” a moment of silence allows that to sink in; so something did happen to her, something more than just faulty electrical wiring in her apartment. sam’s genuine as he goes on, “and it’s great to see you too, really. it’s so strange, i mean all of this, obviously, but it’s even stranger how close we are to stanford. i was already thinking about it, about you all on the way over, and the next thing i know, you’re the suspicious hunter throwing holy water in my face.” 

you cringe a little at that, but sam smiles a little wider than he has all night. “that’s a good thing,” he half-laughs, “i don’t care how weird this coincidence is, i’m glad for it.” his hand twitches, almost as if he’d wanted to reach over and grab your hand, but thought better of it before it could happen. “i gotta ask, did you finish your degree?” the way he asks is so hopeful, and you immediately know how much he wants the answer to be yes. he’s thinking, if i couldn’t finish, please tell me at least one of us could. that one of us poor and foolish hunter kids who thought we could escape managed to long enough to finish a degree, prove that we could make something of ourselves in the normal world. it would be so nice to see that, if it couldn’t be me, it could be somebody, it could be you.

his face falls a little when he registers the sad smile on your face. your expression is more than enough of an answer, and the fact that he wanted so badly for you to have made it makes your heart break a little, for both him and you. we deserved better, you think.

“just about the same thing happened to me,” you begin to explain, “you remember my cousin, bex?” sam nods, recalling the way the two of you acted like siblings the few times he met her, how much you liked alike when you smiled, already sad for what he suspects he might hear. “she died a few weeks after jess. she and i both grew up hunting, and we both thought we got out of it, at least for a little while. we almost lasted all four years … i didn’t think there was anything weird with her death, but … my dad showed me proof of just that at her funeral, convinced me to come back to hunting with him. she was– she was hiding something, and, honestly i’m still not sure what happened. progress on her case has been slow. real slow, so we’ve been working on others in the meantime. keeping busy, you know.”

“oh, i know,” sam sighs, and you completely believe him. you wonder for a moment what bigger things he’s digging into before deciding it’s best if the two of you stick to what’s in front of you. if you go too deep, having each other, a new kind of steady presence from better times, might start feeling too unreal again. 

you want to preserve this delicate balance, where sam is still stanford sam and you’re still stanford you, but now there’s just a deeper understanding of each other. a knowing of what it’s like to grow up with a hunter for a father, to want to get away from it all, to want a sense of normalcy, and to want to learn and become something more and say “screw you!” to all of the expections. and on top of that, knowing how it feels to get so close to the finish line, only to have it ripped out of your hands like you’re a child who’s parents think they’ve had too much candy. only it’s far worse than a half eaten lollipop in the trash because people that you love died, and it was all so much more than just chasing after a momentary sugar high. 

“i’m sorry about bex,” sam says, this time actually reaching out and placing his hand on yours for a moment. his voice is as full of empathy and sincerity as ever. “she was amazing the few times i met her. i could see how close you two were.”

“thanks, sam.” you give him a small smile because those words feel so much better coming from him than just about anyone else. with that, the air seems to settle a little, and it’s far more bearable. you’ve still got a hundred and one questions to ask and a hundred and one more things to say to each other, but to find out you have this near-exact shared experience is like having so much of the weight of loneliness lifted from your chest. and it all feels even better because you know sam. you know him already. 

sure, there’s a whole lot you missed before, but you don’t doubt for a second that the sam sitting in front of you is as kind, funny, smart, witty, sincere, adorably awkward, and good as the sam you met and came to know at stanford. in fact, knowing he grew up the way he did just reaffirms his goodness to you. it’s not easy to live like that and continue choosing to be kind and well-meaning and true to yourself. then there’s this feeling of admiration for sam, just blooming in your chest and you hold back a wide grin because the timing’s not quite right. you still can’t shake the urge to hug him.

“well,” you smile casually, if not a little rueful as you say your next words, “i think our dads will go all hunter-dad-crazy on us if we keep playing catch up. i’ll give you a run down of everything i’ve got, then we can do what dropouts from the west coast’s most prestigious school’s do best; research.”

sam’s smile matches your own, and it’s achingly familiar. “well, we can’t have those asses ruin our not-quite-stanford-alumni reuinion. let’s get to work. we can pretend it’s like the good old days, spring freshman year, all of us cramming for the way-er exam at the back of the library and getting shushed by the librarians. we can pretend john and rick are the librarians.”

for the first time in a long time, you let out a loud laugh, surprised and pulled right out of you without warning. he smiles wide at the sound and finally, without restraint, you grin back. god, you missed him.

[edenesth]

Pride and Prejudice

Pairing: superior!Hongjoong x fem!reader

AU: office au

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Kim Hongjoong, the intimidating superior with an unreasonable prejudice against you, holds a grudge that seems endless. What happens when your paths collide in an unexpectedly heartwarming late-night encounter in the office?

ATEEZ Masterlist

Kim Hongjoong.

That was a name that sent shivers down most employees' spines.

In the bustling world of corporate offices, he was known as the intimidating superior that everyone dreaded.

From the moment you set foot in the company, you felt the weight of his prejudice against you. He had a stereotype against pretty girls, believing that you had only secured your position due to what he dubbed as "pretty privilege."

Despite his initial disdain for you, you had been determined to prove your worth. Days turned into weeks, and your hard work began to speak for itself. Your colleagues recognised your dedication and praised your quality of work.

But Hongjoong's pride remained an impenetrable barrier, preventing him from acknowledging your skills and contributions. Because of that, he's been out to get you for as long as you can remember.

Little did you know, things were about to change real soon.

One evening, after the office had emptied out, you found yourself still at your desk, engrossed in a challenging project.

It was then that Hongjoong, against his usual routine, returned to the office for some last-minute work. Surprised to see you there, he observed you from a distance.

He watched as you tirelessly poured over spreadsheets, crafted reports, and revised presentations. It was clear that your commitment went beyond any perceived privilege. Slowly, a realisation dawned upon him, shattering the preconceived notions that had clouded his judgement.

Too immersed in your work to notice him, you typed away, the soft glow of your computer screen casting a dim light on your face.

Hongjoong couldn't help but feel a growing sense of guilt.

He noticed the countless cups of coffee scattered across your desk, each one bearing the telltale signs of late nights and long hours. There was also a half-finished packet of cream crackers, a meagre attempt at sustenance in the midst of your dedication.

His initial irritation at finding you still at the office slowly gave way to concern. It was well past dinner time, and he wondered if you'd even had a proper meal that day. Clearing his throat, he approached your desk, his footsteps light but purposeful.

"You're still here?" He asked in a voice that was almost a whisper, the surprise of your presence evident in his tone.

Your head snapped up at his unexpected appearance, and you shot up from your seat, a reflexive gesture of politeness ingrained in you, "Yes, Mr. Kim," You replied with a polite bow, "Just finishing up some work. What are you doing here?"

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to the scattered coffee cups and the packet of crackers before meeting your gaze, "I had something I forgot to finish earlier," He confessed, his voice carrying a newfound vulnerability, "So, I came back to the office to settle it."

You nodded slowly, understanding the pressures of your demanding workplace all too well. Returning to your work, you couldn't help but notice the genuine concern in his expression. It was a stark contrast to the disdain and prejudice you had once faced from him.

Then, in a moment that would forever change your professional relationship, he spoke up once more, his words laced with an unexpected humility.

"I didn't realise how hard you work."

Surprised by his admission and the softness in his voice, you looked up again, a flicker of hope in your eyes. With a faint but sincere smile, you replied, "I've been trying to show you all along."

It was a turning point, a moment when the barriers between you and your superior began to crumble, replaced by a newfound understanding.

The awkward silence that hung in the air between you and Hongjoong felt palpable, a reminder of the distance that had separated you for so long. You decided to break the tension by resuming your work, murmuring, "I'll get back to this then."

He simply nodded in response, his eyes fixed on his own office room, but he didn't leave. Instead, he stood there, silently wrestling with his thoughts. He desperately wanted to ask if you had eaten, knowing full well that the late hour meant that a proper meal was long overdue.

However, his pride, which had been a formidable barrier between you two, still held sway over him.

Inwardly frustrated with himself, he cursed under his breath and forced himself to remember why he had returned to the office in the first place. With a reluctant sigh, he reminded himself of the unfinished work waiting for him in his office. Pushing past his internal turmoil, he turned on his heel and headed toward his workspace, determined to distract himself with the tasks at hand.

As he retreated to his office, the lingering sense of guilt and a newfound respect for your dedication continued to gnaw at him.

It was a moment of reckoning, and he wondered if breaking down the remaining walls of pride and prejudice was the path he needed to take to foster a more harmonious working relationship with you.

Hours passed, and the office had grown eerily quiet as midnight approached.

Hongjoong, convinced that you would have left by now, finally decided to call it a night. He stretched, shut down his computer, and began packing his things. But as he made his way towards the exit, he glanced over at your desk and was surprised to find you still there, diligently working away.

His surprise grew when he saw you reach for another packet of crackers, your stomach protesting loudly with a growl. The sight of your dedication and the audibility of your hunger pangs finally broke through the last remnants of his pride and hesitation.

He couldn't let you continue like this.

In a bold move that shocked both you and himself, he approached your desk and swiftly snatched the packet of crackers from your hands, "That's it," He declared, determination in his voice, "I'm taking you to have a proper meal."

You gasped, your wide eyes locked onto his, completely taken aback by his sudden change in demeanour. Without giving you a choice, he tugged you up from your chair, and you reached for your handbag, thinking you might need to pay for your own meal.

Shock and disbelief coursed through your veins as you followed him towards the 24-hour convenience store just downstairs from the office. He surprised you once again.

"Go on, pick whatever you want to eat. It's on me."

The realisation that your once-intimidating superior was genuinely concerned about your well-being left you in a state of utter astonishment.

You carefully selected a light meal, trying to be polite since Hongjoong was footing the bill. But he sighed in frustration when he noticed your restraint, and he swiftly grabbed a few more side dishes, silencing your protests with a stern glare.

Once he had paid, you found yourselves settled at a table and chairs in a quiet corner of the store.

You began, "Thank you for the meal, Mr. Kim."

He nodded in acknowledgement but seemed lost in thought. After a moment of contemplation, he finally spoke up, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red, "Just Hongjoong."

You froze, your actions of opening the food package momentarily halted, "What?" You asked, surprised by his request.

He cleared his throat, still blushing but determined, "I said, just call me Hongjoong. We're not at work now, you don't have to be so formal."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you noticed how cute he looked, flustered by the change in dynamics. You nodded, genuinely touched by his gesture, "Okay. Thank you for the meal, Hongjoong. I really appreciate it."

For some inexplicable reason, he felt his heart warm at hearing you say his name for the first time.

As you both shared the meal, he discovered a side of you he had been quick to overlook. He realised just how wrong he had been to judge you based on a shallow stereotype. It became evident that there was so much more to you than just your good looks, and he couldn't help but curse himself for his past behaviour.

He had needlessly made your life difficult from the moment you joined the company, and he felt a growing sense of remorse.

After the meal, you thanked him once more and wished him a safe trip home, intending to return to the office to finish your work. But his unease intensified as he watched you walk back toward the darkened office alone. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you after he had left, and he knew he would never forgive himself.

In an unexpected move, he followed you back to the office, stopping the elevator doors from closing and forcing his way in. You gasped in surprise, staring at him with wide eyes.

He cleared his throat, trying to appear nonchalant despite the racing of his heart, "What kind of a terrible boss would I be to let you work alone so late?" He stammered, "I... I'll help you. That way, you'll finish faster, and we can both go home."

Your heart skipped a beat at his thoughtfulness, a gesture you had never expected from the intimidating Kim Hongjoong.

With a grateful smile, you nodded, realising that beneath the stern exterior you had initially encountered, there was a caring and compassionate side to him that you were only just beginning to discover, "Thank you, Hongjoong. This means a lot to me."

From that day forward, the dynamic between you and Hongjoong shifted dramatically.

The next morning at work, an unexpected sight left all of your colleagues in shock. Hongjoong appeared next to your desk, holding a cup of your favourite coffee and a pack of sandwiches that he had clearly taken notice of you enjoying frequently.

His voice was unusually gentle as he greeted you, saying, "Good morning. Here, don't skip breakfast again."

Your heart fluttered with surprise and gratitude as you stammered out a thank you, bowing slightly, "Morning, Mr. Kim! Gosh, you really didn't have to. But thank you so much."

You could see him trying his hardest to maintain his composure in front of your curious colleagues, who were all gawking at the unexpected display of kindness. With a quick nod, he turned and hurried into his office, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Once he was gone, your colleagues flocked around your desk, eager to hear the story behind this sudden change in Hongjoong's behaviour. They bombarded you with questions, excited to unravel the mystery of why your intimidating superior was now going out of his way to be nice to you.

The office buzzed with curiosity and anticipation, as the dynamics within the workplace continued to shift in surprising and heartwarming ways.

Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong had been discreetly observing you from the glass window of his office.

A smile spread across his face as he watched you finally enjoy the coffee and sandwich he had gotten for you. It was a simple gesture, but it held a deeper significance for both of you.

In the days that followed, everyone at work noticed the remarkable change in his behaviour toward you. He openly acknowledged your skills and contributions, and the two of you began to develop a professional respect for each other.

Your colleagues teased you relentlessly, speculating that there might be something more to his newfound kindness. They playfully suggested that Kim Hongjoong might have developed feelings for you.

But you would have none of it.

You firmly told them off each time they made such ridiculous claims, asserting that his change in behaviour was simply a result of him realising he had been wrong in his initial judgement of you. While the teasing continued, you remained steadfast in your belief that his actions were motivated by respect rather than romantic interest.

The office atmosphere had shifted from one of tension and prejudice to one of teamwork and support, thanks to the unlikely friendship that had blossomed between you and your superior.

Little did you know that your colleagues' playful theories about Hongjoong's feelings were not as far-fetched as you believed.

Frustration began to creep into his actions as he yearned for you to grasp the deeper meaning behind his gestures. He had become more attentive, consistently leaving breakfast at your desk and offering assistance with your workload, even when you hadn't requested it. These efforts were his way of expressing feelings he had only recently come to understand.

He was left bewildered by the evolution of his emotions.

He couldn't pinpoint when it had started, but his newfound respect and admiration for you had gradually transformed into something more profound and romantic.

As he continued to go out of his way to be a part of your life, he wished for the day when you might see beyond the professional facade and realise that his actions were driven by deeper feelings he was struggling to contain.

But Hongjoong had reached a breaking point.

That's it, I guess I'll just have to be more direct.

He couldn't continue to hide his feelings and yearnings any longer; he needed to be more forward about his intentions. The internal struggle was taking its toll, and he was determined to let you know how he truly felt.

On a day like any other, as he got you breakfast, you thanked him once more for the meal.

Gathering his courage, he decided to seize the moment, even if it meant doing so in front of all your colleagues. He cleared his throat and, with an air of determination, he spoke, "You can thank me by going to dinner with me."

A collective gasp rippled through the office as everyone realised that Hongjoong was finally making a move.

You, stunned by his unexpected proposition, gulped and blinked up at him, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. With a shaky voice, you croaked, "A-are you asking me out on a date?"

He nodded, taking a bold step closer to you.

He knew he was being unprofessional, and normally, he would care deeply about that, but his feelings for you had grown too strong to suppress any longer. At this moment, all that mattered was hearing your response, and he couldn't wait to hear you say yes.

As much as you longed to say yes, you couldn't ignore the weight of potential consequences.

The risk of having an office romance with your superior loomed large in your mind, and you feared the impact it might have on both your personal and professional life. You were torn between your heart's desires and the practicality of the situation.

However, your colleagues, growing impatient with your silence, began chanting insistently, "Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!"

Their encouragement, combined with Hongjoong's pleading gaze, melted your heart. You knew that your happiness in the present moment mattered more than any potential complications, so you finally nodded and said, "Yes."

The office erupted into joyful cheers as his face broke into a radiant smile. He couldn't contain his excitement as he gently took your hand and pressed a tender kiss onto your knuckles.

"Great," He said, his voice filled with genuine happiness, "I'll catch you after work, then."

With a newfound sense of hope and anticipation, you felt that this unexpected turn of events might just be the beginning of something wonderful between you and Hongjoong.

Your first date with him had gone exceptionally well, and as you spent more time together, your connection deepened.

After a few more memorable dates, he finally gathered the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. You couldn't help but voice your concerns about how the relationship might impact your work dynamics.

He listened attentively and reassured you that he understood your concerns completely. He promised to do his utmost to keep things professional and not let your relationship interfere with your work. Trusting his sincerity and the strength of your connection, you took a leap of faith and agreed to be his.

From that point onward, everyone at work began to playfully thank you for transforming Hongjoong from an intimidating figure into a gentle and approachable one.

It was evident that he had become more friendly and open with all the employees, and the atmosphere in the office began to relax. The newfound harmony made everyone happier to work together, as the once-tense environment transformed into a more welcoming and pleasant one.

His transformation from a scary boss to a sweet and caring boyfriend was nothing short of remarkable. He made every effort to ensure that you felt loved and cherished in every aspect of your relationship.

Each morning, he would pick you up from your home with a warm smile and drive you to work, turning your daily commute into a shared adventure.

In his office, you would both enjoy breakfast together, savouring these precious moments before the workday began. As he walked you to your desk, he would often steal a quick, affectionate kiss when he thought no one was watching, leaving a subtle yet sweet reminder of his feelings.

Throughout the day, he would make sure that you never skipped a meal, even if it meant reminding you to take a break. Whenever the weather turned chilly, he'd drape his blazer over your shoulders, ensuring you stayed warm and comfortable.

One of the most significant changes was his commitment to ensuring you didn't stay late at work anymore. He would whisk you away for dinner, treating you to delicious meals before taking you home. And on nights when he was too tired to go home, he'd sometimes stay at your place.

Hongjoong's sweetness as a boyfriend was a stark contrast to the intimidating figure you had first met.

He had evolved into a caring and attentive partner, demonstrating his love not just in words but also through his thoughtful actions, it made your life more meaningful with each passing day.

"Thank you, Mr. Park. I look forward to our collaboration."

As you shook hands with the client, a polite smile on your face, Hongjoong felt a twinge of frustration. He was so close to winning over Park Seonghwa for the latest project.

Fine, you win this round.

A year had passed since you started dating, and your professional paths had taken an unexpected turn. You had been promoted to his level and were now working in a different division, putting you in direct competition with him at work.

He remembered the days when he used to be your intimidating boss, and the thought of you becoming his professional rival both intrigued and challenged him.

While he couldn't deny his pride in seeing your career flourish, the competitive spirit within him burned brightly, as he prepared himself for the battles that lay ahead in your evolving relationship, both in and out of the office.

That evening as you both settled down in the home you now shared, a mischievous grin spread across your face.

You watched with amusement as Hongjoong grumbled and struggled to remove his tie. He wore a look of mock envy as he tried to get rid of the professional attire that now seemed like a burden.

Unable to contain your laughter at his sulking, you approached him, gently helping him remove the tie, "I'm sorry for stealing your client, Joong. I thought you'd be proud of me." You teased, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

He blinked in surprise before a soft smile spread across his face, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

"I'm just playing with you, silly." He said, his voice filled with affection.

"You didn't steal Seonghwa from me. You won him over fair and square with your skills. And I am incredibly proud of you, my love. You continue to prove me wrong about my past stereotypes every day, and I love you so much for it."

Your boyfriend's sweet words had a way of melting your heart, and in that moment, you couldn't resist the overwhelming rush of affection you felt for him, "I love you too, Joong." His arms around your waist made you feel safe and loved, and you leaned in, pressing a soft, tender kiss to his lips.

His lips met yours with a gentle warmth, and the kiss deepened, filled with all the love and passion that had grown between you over the past year. Your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer as the world faded away, leaving just the two of you lost in the sweetness of the moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you relished the connection, your hearts beating in sync.

If someone had told you a year and a half ago that you and Kim Hongjoong would eventually fall in love, you wouldn't have believed them. But as you held each other in that moment, you couldn't help but marvel at how far you had both come since those days.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Lord, this turned out so much longer than I'd planned.

No regrets though, I realised I had to write this after seeing all the recent photos of Hongjoong in Paris. The sight of this man in suits just does things to me. Like, just imagine having him as your boss.🧎🏻‍♀️

This is personally one of my favourites. Hope y'all liked it too! Thank you for reading and as always, do share your thoughts with me! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for having a mental breakdown over my extremely close friend (accidentally) posting (what I thought was) radfem propaganda?

(🧵🎤for finding later)

It’s a very long story and I’m gonna have so many mixed opinions on this, so buckle up broskies.

I(X, minor) had met 👑(F, at least 4 years older than me) 2 months ago after a close friend of her was exposed as a pedophile. Coincidentally, that same pedophile had spread lies about me being a sociopathic asshole a few months ago, so me and 👑 grew extremely close because of both the aforementioned pedo and also because we shared a favorite manga, and we quickly started talking everyday about our favorite characters from the manga.

Due to our close friendship, I educated 👑 about BPD (a disorder I myself have, this is important), genderfluidity, and radical feminism. And apparently, I should’ve educated 👑 a little more about radical feminism.

Also due to our close friendship, 👑 opened up to me about a traumatic experience she had with her stepdad. This triggered me slight flashbacks to an extremely nasty and messy fight I had with an ex last year, but I didn’t want to seem like I was victim blaming, so I kept my mouth shut.

2~ weeks ago, 👑 posted about the “Man or Bear” question, and chose bear. She also brought up the traumatic experience her stepdad inflicted on her in the tags.

(I personally believe the “Man or Bear” question is radfem propaganda because when women choose bear, they always bring up a traumatic experience a man inflicted on them in some way. To me this sounds like they are saying that all men are misogynists that want to see women suffer, which is obviously not the case.)

When I saw the post, I was quite pissed. Eventually, I saw it another time, and I started having a meltdown. I was actually crying, impulsively vagueposting about her and the post, and eventually when I had to go to sleep I angrily messaged 👑 telling her about the mental breakdown accompanied by a middle finger emoji.

When I woke up and checked my notifications, I saw that 👑 had messaged me 4 times saying she’s sorry, that she didn’t mean ill towards men and that she had deleted the post (which she did, but that did barely anything to comfort me). I, still extremely pissed at 👑, told her about how pissed I was, that I trusted her but now I can’t, and that she should fuck off. 👑 replied by asking if there was anything she could do to regain my trust, so I, in the mood to just make it known that I was extremely pissed, told 👑 to go harass a radfem. And she did.

Later that day, me and 👑 had an important conversation about what had happened. I explained to her that I was holding a grudge against her since she told me about her trauma because it reminded me of the fight between me and my ex, and that I thought she was slowly making her trauma her personality. She understood, and she apologized.

Me and 👑 are now in much better terms, but I am extremely scared that I ruined her opinion on me and that she dislikes me now because she’s an extremely close friend of mine and I had opened up to her about everything bad in my life, and I threw it all away because I didn’t want to be reminded over something that happened a year ago.

TLDR; I held a grudge against my therapist friend for opening up to me about her trauma because I got flashbacks to a fight with an ex, then had a meltdown when she posted about the Man or Bear question, and now I don’t know what to do about our friendship.

[101suouexpressions]

Graffiti on Fuurin High School ground

This is a continuation of Part 1 (it was too long I feel like I should halve it). You don't have to read it in order to understand this post, but you are more than welcome to!

Let's continue!

Tiger and Dragon (Sakura and Sugishita)

The drawing of a tiger and a dragon on class 1-1's black board refers to the idiom (龙争虎斗) from eastern culture, meaning the clash between dragon and tiger, which are two of the most powerful creatures. The idiom is used when two opponents who (often) hold grudges and are equally powerful face each other. Tone wise, it is a positive phrase, leaning towards amazement and admiration from an outsider's point of view.

I'd say Sakura is the tiger and Sugishita is the dragon here based on their physiques (Sakura is small but flexible and resilient, while Sugishita has long limbs and tends to strike his opponent heads-on with force).

Graffiti on the wall in chapter 3 as a foreshadow for Shishitouren Arc

As the section name suggested, this is definitely a reference/foreshadow for Shishitouren Arc. On the wall, we can see a rabbit chasing down a man with a (rather dangerous, oopsie) baseball bat while other animals (foxes to the left and I'd say bears to the right?) look on and laugh.

This is the expected scene in the run-down theatre Ori. The rabbit is their leader - Tomiyama Chouji, as his name has the word rabbit (兎) in it. Moreover, having animals in them is the common Shishitouren name theme (I might make a separate post on this haha surely). E.g. Togame Jo is a turtle (亀), Sako Kouta is a fox (狐), Teruomi Inugami is a dog/wolf (犬) (note: I can't access the original Japanese publication since it's paid only so I'm only guessing based on the "inu" in his name. For anyone interested, he appears in chapter 127).

Skulls/Skeletons

Skeletons and skulls are easily seen throughout Fuurin. Most of the time I believe it's just because it's a common thing to graffiti. It's also interesting to think about how they represent violence and death, while Boufuurin are just little babies running around protecting the town haha.

Little blobs accompanying the skeletons <3

It is clear that the large skeletons are looming over the little blobs, but the skeletons don't look hostile and the blobs aren't scared of them. This makes me think that the skeletons are Boufuurin students and the blobs are the people of Makochi who are under Boufuurin's protection.

Overall I just think they're adorable. They are literally you and me :3 :3 :3

[afternoondreaming]

No Business Like Show Business (3/?)

Hey there, everyone! Sorry it’s been a bit of a hot minute without any writings- celebrated my birthday this month, so I’ve been a tad busy! Now I’m rewarding myself with writing my dear Puzzle man. Also, can’t believe they let my man say fuck. We’re truly in the future, folks

“…Starlet? Oh, Starlet…? Do you make a habit of ‘spacing out’?” Mr. Puzzles leaned across the table to get closer to your eye level, waving his hand in front of your face. You were, as of current, left aghast at the man’s suggestion. Work alone? It was ridiculous. A studio couldn’t be ran by itself! Yet, the more you thought of it, the more the puzzle pieces fit together. A building bereft of staff, left obviously unused. The interviews where he simply posed the questions to himself. All the unanswered résumés constantly being shipped in… Besides those few actors he had on board briefly, which he seemed to hold a grudge against given his attitude in the shows, this was a one man show.

“How… Do you pump out all this content?” You spoke slowly, turning your focus to him again. He looked surprised that you finally spoke up, but quickly switched his screen to a more offended face.

“Excuse you! I don’t make content and it’s not ‘pumped out’!” If a TV could pout, it was about as close as one could get to it. “I make art! I make cinema!” Mr. Puzzles roughly slammed his hands against the desk, kicking up dust as he sprung to his feet. As you began to cough, he continued his confident rambling. “Puzzlevision’s film making techniques are proprietary, so! Until you sign on the dotted line and accept such a golden opportunity, you’ll never know~!” The man looked smug as he leaned closer across the table, goading you on.

As you tried to wave away the rest of the dust, you began to think. You were certainly curious and having such a big name on your résumé would certainly catapult you to whatever heights you wanted to reach. There was just one problem…“Listen, Mr. Puzzles, while I really want to accept this offer… The commute will be way too long. I need to find a place first before I can accept-“

“Oh! That. Easy fix!” He habitually interrupted you, rising from his chair to round the table towards you. “It’s rather common for companies to cover moving costs and provide local housing listings~ I believe there’s a few in the apartment complex across the street! We’ll simply get you settled in there.” Like a fact he said it plainly, hand coming down to pay your shoulder assuredly. “I take it you accept, then?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“Perfect!” The TV in front of you turned manic, eerie face with realistic eyes and smile jittering. “Time to share my genius Puzzlevision process, partner.” Suddenly you felt a pull. A gravitational force towards the man’s screen, all the while that disturbing face towered over you.

“Woah- hey- what’s going on-!” Before you could finish your sentence, you were pulled closer to the screen. Vision quickly going to black as you lost all awareness of the dusty interview room around you.

“Ugh… What just happened…?” You groaned, pushing yourself up off of the floor you were lying on. As you got your bearings, you wished you didn’t. All around you, you were surrounded by void. Giant TVs all around you filled with a low, droning static. Shaking, you picked yourself up off the floor. “Hello…? Is anyone there?” You were in an interview before, right?

“Welcome! To the Puzzlevision proprietary secret!” A booming, familiar voice called out. Up from the void below rose a giant, familiar figure. Right. Mr. Puzzles. How could you possibly forget. “You’re absolutely star struck, Starlet, I know~!” With a knuckle he tapped against the side of his head causing the whole world to shake, nearly toppling you over again. “My head always makes for the best sets and crew!”

“I’m… In your head.” It was hard to believe. I mean, who possibly could? First the man has a TV for a head in the first place. Now this? “Right now. Your head. In it.”

“Right you are, my dear little Starlet! Who needs a studio when you have the realm of imagination!” Mr. Puzzles dramatically struck a pose, a happy smile on his face as he waited for your reaction.

“And you expect me to work here.” It felt like your head was going to explode.

“Well, when we’re filming, yes!” Your question seemed to take him aback, pose dropping as he looked confused. “If you’d like to write in here, you certainly can… But I will gladly dust off the old studio for you and I to brainstorm in~” There it was again. The fact that only you two- and, let’s face it, it’s essentially just you- will be writing, producing, and workshopping movies. Entirely. By. Yourself.

“I…I think I’m gonna lie down for a minute...”

“Starlet? Starlet-!” You couldn’t hear the rest of the flamboyant man’s cries, as you quickly found yourself dropping like a puppet with its strings cut all the way to the ground.

[superectojazzmage]

I really dig Qimir's characterization. He's a Sith and a lot of the brutality of Sith culture is on full display, but he doesn't really come off as necessarily evil or even especially malicious, at the very least no the in the typical way Sith villains are portrayed.

Mae's hunting of the Brendok Jedi seems to have been more of a personal thing for her that he reluctantly went along with as part of her training, and Qimir himself is evidently more concerned with keeping his culture alive than perpetuating old grudges. He hates Jedi because of all the bad blood between them and Sith and the ideological differences and has no issue with killing them, but also mostly just wants to be left alone to practice his faith, use his powers, and rear his own students/children as he sees fit rather than being forced to follow the laws of the nation that destroyed his own.

He bears no delusions about the Sith's current predicament as a tiny husk of it's former self hiding in the cracks of a society dominated by ancestral enemies, like many of the Baneite Sith do. He isn't interested in fantasies of revenge and conquest. As he says to Sol, the only reason he kills the hunting party is because Mae has caused them all to discover the Sith, and if the Jedi Council and Republic learn about Sith still existing they'll default to slaughtering or depowering them all for being "tainted by darkness", the exact same way they've done after every prior conflict with the Sith.

And while he disagrees with the Jedi Code, he also despises when Jedi fail to follow their own stated principles and gladly points out when they're being hypocrites (like how he mocks Sol for being upset over Jecki's death because she's "a child", as if he didn't personally lead said child into lethal combat after rearing her as a warrior and as if the Jedi in general don't use their padawans as child soldiers as a rule). His obvious disdain Sol and the Brendok Jedi specifically over even the other Jedi seems less motivated by the Jedi-Sith feud and more by him knowing about the very bad thing they almost assuredly did on Brendok and being livid about them continuing to act like they have the moral high ground despite it.

In a lot of ways, he's in the same position as the Brendok Coven, someone who wants to be free to live their own way and not be bashed into line by the Jedi and Republic, which would certainly explain why he and Mae gravitated to working together. They see each other as kindred spirits, both people left alone and in hiding by the imperialism of the Republic and the Jedi's refusal to let anyone who challenges their view of the Force exist in the long term, if at all. And that also adds to his anger with Mae when she turns on him; she was trying to throw him under the bus so she can ingratiate herself with the people who killed both her and his people. Even in a culture that values cunning and deceit, that sort of betrayal would probably be seen as unimaginable, the kind of dishonor that can never be atoned for.

All in all, the show is such a nice throwback to the more morally nuanced and even-handed works you used to see more of during the Legends EU days, showing the flaws and issues with all the involved groups while not coming down too hard and deeming any one pure evil, as well as treating the individual characters within those groups as varied in nature but usually sympathetic or at least understandable. The Jedi as an institution and a part of the governmental system are deeply flawed at even the best of times, but most of the Jedi come off as decent folk who are genuinely just trying to do the right thing. The Brendok Witches had their issues, but also justified reasons for everything they did and at the end of the day they just wanted to be allowed to live their lives without fear of outsiders storming in to take their children away and forbid them from passing their ways on. And now, with Qimir, yeah, the Sith culture is shown to be very harsh, ruthless, or even downright savage by the standards of the Jedi (and our own real world values), but they're still people at the end of the day.

[wanderingsoul6261]

Credit for gif goes to onlyhereforangst

This has been a long time coming! I tried. Motivation has been poor lately so if this sucks, then I'm sorry. This is also poorly edited. It's midnight so please bear with me. Might edit at a later date.

Warnings: bullying

James Beaufort x Tailor!reader

PART 3

------

It had been awhile since James or his father had heard from Y/N. James had been particularly nasty as he complained in frustration for her leaving so abruptly in the middle of his session. His father only listened, but had barely provided any insight into the matter. It was as if he didn't care, or maybe he just didn't care in the manner that James had expected, or maybe even hoped. The only sign of life that they had recieved from Y/N was an email apologizing for her behavior and that she would be out of office for several weeks, with all sessions being pushed back.

This had only upset James even more, and finally, some slight frustration from his father. James had hoped that maybe his father would finally act out and find a different tailor. But instead, he never did, and had only kept his patience while he waited to hear from Y/N, and James didn't even know how to feel in regards to that. Even Lydia was shocked, and neither twin could figure out their father's reasoning and change in attitude. Mortimer had always been used to getting what he wanted when he wanted, and right now, Y/N being MIA was a block in the road for their next line of clothing. But there was nothing James could do it about, no matter what he had to say.

How his father was even allowing Y/N to stay employed underneath them as one of their tailors still went unknown to James. Anyone else would have fired her and sent her packing, yet she still kept her job and with each passing say, it only continued to infuriate James more and more.

Nothing made any sense. His father wasn't making sense.

Y/N, definitely, wasn't making any sense.

Lydia had tried to conversate with James and get him to have the benefit of the doubt and to have patience. But when all he wanted was to have this suits tailored and get it all done and over with, he couldn't help but not have any patience. He couldn't help his frustrations as he waited day in and day out for a reply from Y/N.

Even when they finally heard from her, after what seemed like forever, it had only somehow pissed him off even more. James held grudges, and Y/N was no exception. He planned on showing her just how much of an inconvenience she has been to them.

----

Y/N was sitting in a chair when James had all but burst through the doors to the room. She had jumped in the chair, staring up in alarm at James as he walked in at a brisk pace, the door slamming shut behind him as he entered the room. His eyes found her almost instantaneously, narrowing to slits as he stopped, as if even taking another step towards her would fill him with a feeling of revulsion.

"Barely back to your job and you're already sitting. Didn't have a long enough vacation?" He sneered.

She frowned, almost shrinking in on herself as she took everything James gave her. Her eyes were dull, bloodshot eyes, cheeks red and eyes puffy. Y/N was the epitome of a disaster.

"There could have been more communication from you. Instead we all sat in the fucking dark waiting for you to move your ass so that we can finish this session. Your email back setting up this session was surprise enough, we all almost had a heart attack." James threw his hands up in irritation as Y/N kept her gaze to the floor. "What? Can't look me in the face because you know I'm right?" He asked. James finally walked around the room until he stood in front of Y/N, now forcing her to look at him.

She turned her eyes up to look at him. Her face portrayed no emotion as she stared at him, but anyone looking at her could tell something was off about her. James noticed it, of course, but he was so blinded by his frustrations that he couldn't find it in him to care, not that he probably would have either before she went and did what she did.

James watched she stood up, holding his furious gaze as he waited for her to say something. Anything. The tension in the air was thick, palpable, as they drowned in the silence between the two of them, waiting for one of them to say something. And yet he still couldn't get over the fact of how tired she looked as she finally opened her mouth to say something.

"Let's get started." Her voice was quiet, empty sounding as she turned away from him to get ready. He watched as she grabbed a suit and held it out for him, waiting expectantly for him to take it without uttering another word.

Somehow, that had only made him more frustrated.

"You don't get it, do you?" He exclaimed. Y/N stopped, the suit lowering slightly towards the floor, the pant legs threatening to touch the floor. James let out an angered puff. "You ignored us for several weeks with nothing else but a poorly explained apology. And even after that, nothing! You were radio silent, and how is that fair towards your customers?" Y/N took the scolding. She knew she could have handled it all better. She knew she could have explained it better to all of her clients, but most of them were actually very considerate, even without having to go too much into detail. "How is that fair to us? When we are probably one of your biggest customers to date? When we probably bring in most of your income?In yet I find it real fucking strange that my father is not angry and demanded for someone else."

"Careful. Your ego is showing." Y/N mumbled, but it was loud enough that James heard. She had turned and put the suit back on the rack. When she turned back to James, he had somehow appeared even angrier. How it was even possible, she wasn't sure, but he managed it quite well. "Listen. I do get it. But I'm not required by law to tell you all about my personal life." He went to open his mouth to say something, but she held up a hand, silencing him. "No. Its my turn to talk. You can tell yell at me for our entire session and we can not get stuff done. Or you can let me do my job, because I do have more clients to attend to after you if I'm going to be able to take up your father's invitation for dinner."

Now James was shocked, and she had taken a little bit of pride in doing so.

Dinner?

Her?

In their home?

Y/N caught on to his facial expression and let out an annoyed huff.

"Let me do my damn job." James looked at her and realized that not was she only tired now, but she was also angry. Good. He sneered at her before finally listening, and he had known then that if looks could kill, he'd be a dead man.

-----

If James was being honest with himself, and he was, he was still angry with Y/N. That much was evident as he glared at her from across the table. Lydia had exchanged a raised eyebrow with him before deciding to ignore him and go back to her food.

But the glares had helped hide something deeper down. When he first met her, Y/N had piqued an interest from him, and that despite him being a bit of an hard ass towards her, he was curious. And that curiosity had led to a bit more.

Seeing her earlier during their appointment, she had been tired, that much was evident. He had thought that there might have been something else though, and whereas he had told himself earlier that he didn't quite care, he had later found that to not be the case.

Upon leaving once they were done earlier, he couldn't help but think back to her, no matter how pissed off he had been at her. He really wanted to know she had been gone for as long as she was. What had happened? Dare he admit that a part of him wanted to know if she was okay.

Even at dinner, she looked tired. Exhausted. Bags hung below her eyes and she spoke a tad quieter than she did earlier, but no one had seemed to mind. In fact, they seemed to welcome it.

The dinner, for the most part, was going well. Mortimer and his wife had opted to talk to Y/N about her progress and future projects. James watched, and despite her being tired, she had also talked to his parents with a bit of enthusiasm. Maybe it was all for show though, considering who they were.

"I would also like to do something small for you. It was actually my wife's idea." Mortimer looked at Cordelia briefly before at Y/N. "After we heard about your father a few months ago." James watched as Y/N froze, her body tensing up. His gaze moved around the room, from her to his father, to his mother, and back to Y/N before it repeated. Lydia was just as confused.

Y/N's eyes moved slowly to Mortimer, her food now forgotten, and she looked as if she would be sick. Just then, the anger left James, and concern replaced it. His gaze focused on her, surprised when she looked at him briefly, her eyes showing every emotion without a single action. Sadness. Fear. Anxiousness.

She looked back at Mortimer and swallowed.

"He was a very well trained tailor, and he definitely trained you to be one of the best, just as he was." It was James turn as he looked at his father, shock in his expression. His tailor? Was her father? The cogs started to work in his mind as he looked between his father and Y/N. Her father. His tailor. Her emotions. Abruptly leaving during their session all that time ago.

His heart stopped.

"After we heard he had passed due to complications with cancer."

The confirmation.

James drowned out the words as he looked back at Y/N. She looked as if she was going to cry, hearing it all again, like she wasn't quite ready for any just yet after her father's death. But then again, who would be?

James had watched as Y/N barely held herself through dinner. She looked like she wanted to run, but refrained from doing so as she didn't want to be rude to her hosts. The news had explained so much, and now, even more so after hearing all that, he felt like an ass.

James felt like an ass for treating her in the way that she did earlier. He should had known something serious had happened for her to be gone as long as she was, but was too blinded to even think straight. He hadn't been fair to her, and now everything in him wanted to make it up to her.

So when Mortimer and Cordelia offered Percy to take her home, James jumped at the offer of potentially going with her, surprising everyone in the room, but as he turned to her, his facial expression told her that everything would be alright.

------

Taglist:

taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @uniquexusposts @sillyfreakfanparty

[danibee33]

The Queen’s Guard- Chapter 4: Enough

knight!simon riley x queen!reader

CW: dark themes - no graphic depictions* but non-con, sa, domestic violence, suicidal ideations *read at your own discretion*

word count: 3.5k

[<<< chapter 3]

“Hen..” Johnny turns to walk backwards, looking at you with a lopsided smile before you see his eyes cast up and to the right- lids narrowing for a split second, but the expression passes as he continues, “It’s swelterin’ out today, what’s with the fashion choice, eh?”

It had been a terribly, unseasonably, hot day- the sun was bright and oppressive as you walked through the hedges. You can feel the individual pearls of sweat beading off your skin under the high collar, your teeth clenching at the way they trickled down between your shoulder blades and collected in your cleavage-

And may all the gods damn this forsaken corset..

You don’t say that, though you sorely wish you could. No, instead, you fan yourself; fighting vainly to keep your breaths measured and at a normal pace.

But that’s incredibly hard to do when your lungs can only expand as far as the rigid boning that lines your torso would allow.

Your handmaid, Elia, had fallen ill late last night, and her temporary replacement seems to have a grudge against breathing, apparently..

“It is supposed to be autumn-”, you mutter back, gratefully taking his arm when he returns to your side, “not bloody summer.”

“My, my.. Do they teach ya how to speak like that at Queen school, Your Grace?”

He belts out that wonderful, smooth laugh at his own awful joke- nudging into you when you give more of a strained huff than the actual chuckle you’d been going for.

This would be his last day here. The week had gone by so quick, far too quick; the days had felt like the usual whirlwind and calamity that is your life, though you admit that as soon as the King left the castle walls, you were quick to reschedule nearly every event that you could manage. Not wanting to miss any more time with Johnny than you absolutely had to-

Then there’s Simon.. Wasn’t it also a week ago since the night in the hedges? Oh- right here, actually! How painfully convenient-

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at the thought, recognizing the specific spot you had been with him- fight the urge to wonder desperately if he feels the same turmoil over what occurred.

Nothing had changed between you, well, nothing outwardly, anyway. Internally? You were confused, and ashamed, so fearful, and yet, every time you let your mind recount how sinfully good it felt- to have him so close, to have his lips caress your skin, and that deep, brassy voice reverberate through your ears- you feel that awful, terrible ache for him grow even more.

“Earth to Sunny…”

You look up too fast, or maybe it wasn’t even that fast; but the moment your head tilts toward his voice, and the sun bears down on your face, you see a flurry of black stars dance across your vision, thickening until there’s nothing at all. No more light, no heat, no heaviness, no restriction around your lungs- just pure, blissful nothing.

”Mm.. My Queen..”

Warm lips press a long kiss behind your ear, his voice silky and muffled as he speaks- calloused hands roam your body, they leave the most delectable chills in their wake. Your skin impossibly hot and cold at the same time-

“I’m not your queen anymore, Simon. Remember?”

He moves to hover over you, his mouth never leaving your skin as it traces every curve, and slope, and freckle with the softest kisses you’re sure you’ve ever felt. The sensation of them is more like a feather being dragged over your flesh, slow, every delightful stroke made with purpose, intention.

And when he chuckles, you can't help but to suck in a sharp gasp at how his breath tickles the skin of your tummy, how it seems to fan out, warming something much, much deeper inside you-

“Love.. You’ll always be my queen. Or, do you not remember the first time I kneeled before you? The oath I took- my fealty sworn to you, and you alone, for as long as I live.”

The image of Simon kneeling at your feet makes you squirm under him; recalling vividly how large and menacing he was even in such a vulnerable position, how he had looked up at you under his brow- molten amber irises practically dancing in the light, so full of guile and adoration, even then.

A shrill noise parts your lips when he hoists your thighs over his shoulders, your heart racing, blood rushing to your cheeks and neck as you dare to look down at him-

And you know the minute you meet his eyes, see the intensity behind them, even with the rest of his face obscured as he nuzzles further against your cunt, that it would be your undoing.

How would anyone, or anything, ever compare?

Certainly not your King- no, not yours anymore. Wait.. is that right?

The thought disappears just as quickly as it had come, the pain of it replaced by the reverent worship of Simon’s tongue-

You’re slammed back into reality by a rush of cool water streaming over your face- it feels heavenly, since you now also feel that ungodly heat wrapping around you again, your senses slowly coming back into focus-

The earthy, sweet smell of the garden filling your nose, the feel of the water evaporating from your skin, the dry taste that coats your tongue, and urgent voices resounding in your ear.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus..”

“My Queen?”

You’re gently shaken, large hands holding your face- but it’s your name spoken in that voice you’ve dreamed about, so deep and laced with concern, with worry, that settles heavily in your heart, bringing you even further into the moment. And you so badly want to reach for it, for him-

But when you try to raise your hand, it feels like lifting iron chains, your energy thoroughly depleted; you move to sit up anyway, needing to fix this- whatever this was.

“W-what.. What is it?”

Gods, it even feels impossible to speak- but, finally, it seems your eyes have decided to work again, even if the view before you is blurred and hazy at first. You blink away the remaining starbursts, seeing two imposing silhouettes perched over you-

“Grianach..”

It’s when your gaze meets Johnny’s, your brain able to register the horror, the anguish- that you scramble to clutch at your throat.

Oh no.. no, no, no-

In their efforts to relieve you of your many insulating layers, it seems they cut the laces of your corset, and ripped the collar of your gown apart at the seams-

The high collar that you insisted on to cover the angry purplish bruises that currently wrap around your neck, the outline of a hand turning green and yellow with age. There were other bruises in much the same state on your arm and your thigh, and you thank the gods that those could not be so easily seen- because the murderous gleam in Simon and Johnny’s eyes is scary enough.

What would they do if they saw the rest…

You order them to help you up, dismissing their reservations as you simultaneously plead for them to call no one else-

“This is.. embarrassing enough. I do not wish for anyone else to see me, there are too many rumors and baseless speculation as it is-”

Simon is close again, right there supporting your weight, his body tense and ready for anything- but his eyes..

A shiver wracks through you as the image of those same eyes settling between your thighs flits through your mind; a motion they both mistake for the start of another fainting spell, judging by the way they grip you a little tighter- Johnny’s hand at your waist in an instant,

“Let me fetch the physician-”

“No.”

“Sunny..”

Looking between them, between cobalt blue and rich copper, between the man you’ve known your entire life, and the one that has somehow upended everything you thought you knew, your knees feel weak again.

“Please- Just.. Take me to my chambers.”

Simon moves immediately, leaving Johnny no choice but to follow as the towering man leads you through the hedge- but he doesn’t go towards the usual entrance you should be taking. You follow his long strides to a shadowed alcove, one you never would look twice at; but, to your surprise, when he pushes against an odd section of wall, it opens.

Johnny casts you a sidelong glance, and you wish you had an answer for him- hells, you wish you had an answer at all. It shouldn’t be surprising there are secret and hidden passageways within the castle, you suppose you’re just surprised you were never made aware of them. Especially since the corridor he chooses takes you directly to your rooms-

Your mouth opens the moment he closes the three of you in, a demand already on your tongue to know exactly how Simon knew about this, but all coherent thought turns to mush when he turns on you, pulling the black glove from his hand,

“Did he do this to you?”

The feel of his bare fingers on your skin sends your entire body reeling, unable, or maybe just unwilling, to pull away from his touch, even when you see Johnny’s eyebrows furrow in equal parts confusion and anger.

“Yes.”

“The King?” Johnny nearly choke on his own words, running a hand through his mess of hair as he watches Simon back away.

“It’s not-” You start, but you don’t have a justification, or an excuse, just the horrific memory of how angry your King had been, how he stormed into your room after the feast- his breath so laden with the smell of wine that it made your stomach queasy.

He took you that night before he left, by force. Pinned you down, and hissed the most obscene and vile things in your ear, his hands marking you for everyone to see; but you think it was mostly for his own depraved pleasure-

”Tell me about this Lord of yours- hm?” “Dancing with him like some common whore- you’re a fucking embarrassment to my crown-” “Well, since you want to act like one, I’ll show you exactly how I treat my harlots.”

As much as you tried to reassure him, he wouldn’t listen, didn’t want to hear what you had to say; and it was too easy for him to silence you with a strong grip around your neck-

You feel the hot tears threaten to spill at the memory, but you won’t, you refuse to let them fall- you refuse to shed one more single fucking tear for that monster, and certainly not right now.

So, you swallow the agonizing lump in your throat, pinning the men in front of you with a determined glare, “This shall not leave this room, am I clear?”

Johnny steps forward, “What?”

You raise your hand to stop him, holding your ground, “It isn’t a suggestion. It is a command-”, your feet move on autopilot, crossing the distance to the spacious washroom.

“But, Sunny.. You can’t let him get away with this! What else is there, huh? How else has he hurt-” Simon moves to cut him off, a strong arm reaching out to hold the Scot back, “Get your hands off me.”

They stand toe to toe, Simon’s eyes practically burning a hole through Johnny, the shorter man giving it back just as severely,

“Enough..” You sigh, moving quickly to push yourself between them, an open palm placed over their chests- Johnny’s, solid and warm, the muscle underneath heaving with every breath, and Simons.. The obsidian steel, cold and unforgiving, but it’s impossible to miss how his breathing is just as labored.

He’s just as livid-

“Please..”

At the same time, they relax under your touch, the sound of your plea softening both of their hearts for a moment- long enough to hear out, at least.

“Come back with me.” Johnny says, his voice so strong and steady that you swear you could feel the conviction behind the simple statement-

You shake your head, stepping from between them, “You know I can’t. That’s my home, our home, which you stand to inherit. The King would-“

Yes.. What would the great and benevolent ruler do? Would he make up a reason to attack your beloved homeland, to round up your family and have them executed? Would he make you watch Johnny’s head roll before casting your own off with it? He had already shown you a taste of how far his jealousy could go, how truly malicious and cruel he was willing to be when you angered him- and that only seemed to be happening more as of late.

“I will not go. I will not endanger your-” He tries to speak again, and you can see the flush of anger color his cheeks, his bright eyes so dark now, so full of turmoil, rage, “I WILL NOT.. endanger your life, or the lives of any of my people, Johnny..”

“Then I’ll take ya somehwere they won’t find us! Somewhere, where we’re nobodies, not a lord, or a queen- somewhere our names won’t matter. We’ll pick new ones, and it’ll be just us, just like it used to be, Grianach-”

A series of knocks at the doors throws the room into an eerie silence, agitation still hanging thick and heavy in the air around you as you look to Simon with a small nod; watching him cross the space and walk out of sight; your ears straining to hear who has come to seek you out, eyes staying glued to the wall, waiting to see him round it once again-

Johnny’s voice is sudden and low in your ear, so close it almost startles you as he speaks in your native tongue, or well, the bastardized slang you had always spoken to each other as children, ”Do you trust him?”

You turn to look up at him, eyebrows furrowed and your tone just as low, ”Yes, I do.”

There’s a moment when he seems to question your answer, question how little hesitation there was behind it- his eyes dancing over your face before darting up and back down to you just as quick,

”Bring him, then. Would that make you say ‘yes’?”

A familiar sequence of taps causes you to look back towards the entryway, where Simon stands as casual as ever, hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he looks between you and Johnny,

“Lord MacTavish’s horse has been prepared, along with his things, as previously requested-”

“Well, tell ‘em to take him back to stable, ‘m not leavin’.” Johnny spits back with a venom you’re not you’ve ever heard from the man.

But Simon, characteristically, is entirely unfazed by the outlash, looking back through his helmet, his expression almost comically bored.

“I answer to the Queen.” He hums out, eyes now on you in a way that feels far too personal, too intimate, as he moves forward with slow steps, “Not you.”

No.. No. I can’t do this- not here, not again. I don’t even know what this is, but it’s too much.

“All right, both of you- out.” You seethe, your hands clenching and unclenching as you all but shove Johnny back to the secret entrance- because the last thing you needed was for one the King’s many eyes in the castle to see him departing from your chambers.

He doesn’t try to stop you, but he does beg once again, softly, quietly- a plea for which you don’t have an answer to, not right now anyway. What he wants is impossible and improbable, it would never work. Right? Right.

There is no way out of this for you- there never really was.

“Later, Johnny. When we’ve calmed down and had time to think. I need to dress, now, go. I swear, I will find you.”

You watch him go, watch him spare one last glance before disappearing into the damp shadows of the tunnel, leaving you alone yet again with your Ghost. And that same, awful ache that never seems to leave you, makes itself apparent at the thought- your reeling mind certainly not helping to quell it by any means.

“You, too.” You say, squaring your shoulders and steeling yourself to face him, “I just need-”

When you do finally look up, your stride falters- seeing him already looking at you, his hand reaching for yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do- but, at the last second, he stops himself. His long fingers curling into a fist as they fall back in place at his side, and you don’t know why his restraint only serves to enthrall you more.

“I understand, My Queen..”

You want to scream and cry as you watch him slip his glove back on, covering the pale, scarred skin again-

“Si- Ser.. I’m sorry-”

“No.” He cuts you off gently, his voice warm and kind as he turns into you fully, “You have nothin’ to apologize for.. Not a single thing.”

Gods, why does he have to make it so difficult to be in his presence? Just standing here with him, his frame dwarfing your own, tall and broad, so immovable, so powerful; and yet, he somehow manages to make you feel like you’re the one looking down at him, like a deity gazing down on their devout disciple; like just allowing him the grace of your time and attention is what he lives for-

That is absurd.. And blasphemous. What is wrong with me.. It’s just a silly infatuation that I’ve aggrandized, that I’ve made more important than it is, obviously. I don’t know any better, anyway. This could be a ruse, and I wouldn’t know it, only ever having been with one boorish man; they could all be like that, Simon included-

“I’ll be at my post, Your Grace.” His voice is closer to normal now, not low and rich, spoken like it’s only meant for your ears-

All you can manage is a lame nod, turning away as he leaves because you know you couldn’t bear to see him go. Instead, you busy yourself finding another dress to cover your neck before calling in the handmaids for help.

Yes, busy, that usually tends to ward off the wayward and errant musings, the fantasies of what can never be- you’ll hone your focus on the mundane, on the way this new dress is softer than the last, the dark green velvet hugging you tenderly. Focus on the pinch of the corset, your eyes glancing at the wardrobe where you know the mutilated one now resides.

You simply won’t think about him. Or Johnny, and his preposterous proposal-

Oh, your sweet Johnny.. still ever the bleeding heart he is. You’ll send him back home with grand gifts, and hope he finds the letter you wrote for his eyes only, hope he can move on, and forget what he regrettably had to witness.

It will be ok. You’ll make sure he’s taken care of, that he won’t be cast into an unsavory light, or blamed.

Not when you’re so painfully aware that he’s the only wonderfully bright light you had been blessed with in so long, and gods forbid it’s your fault that his light is snuffed out-

The mirror catches your eye, reflecting someone so different back to you now. Different from a few short months ago, different from just a week ago, an hour ago, even. And while you don’t know if you particularly care for the woman you see, you know she is necessary for what’s to come.

It will be ok.

Simon stands guard at her door, unwavering and vigilant- but his mind races.

How could this have happened to his Queen, on his watch no less, how could he have allowed that monster to enter her chambers?

To hurt her.. defile her- his Queen. He swore his life to protect her, but he never imagined the one she needed saving from would be his own sovereign.

No matter. Because at the end of the day, the King is just a man; mortal, made of flesh and blood, a beating heart that can so easily be pierced by a sharp blade. A soft, squishy neck just made for cleaving-

And he doesn’t know this cousin of hers, doesn’t know what kind of lord he is, but she seems to trust him implicitly- they seem close in ways he can quite grasp. But, perhaps he’s on to something, Simon could get her away from here, away from this hellish place that drains her more and more, every waking moment.

He would take care of her, it would be so easy to make them both disappear.. they already called him ‘Ghost’, why not live up to the idea the mindless drones of court already have of him?

Hm.. Ghost-

The name rolls around on his tongue, Simon Riley has been called many things in his life, but none of them ever sounded so fitting.

[chapter 5>>>]

[yuesya]

Xiao straightens, and flicks his spear.

The downed form of the man-shaped demon before him fades slowly, crumbling motes of darkness drifting up and gradually vanishing in the air. It’s not dissimilar to the demons of Liyue that he’s familiar with –the demons that Xiao has spent so many centuries hunting and slaying in an endless, eternal cycle– but at the same time, he is able to discern the difference.

This demon was not one born of the restless grudges of fallen gods that refused to accept their own deaths. If anything, its origins seemed more… but no… no, that was preposterous. Surely it couldn’t be–

A monstrous roar sounds behind him; Xiao whirls around. There’s another demon left, struggling futilely in a pool of its own blood. The signature of its energy is far weaker than the one that he’d just fought, and all four of its limbs have been broken… and yet it’s still alive, and struggling to crawl forward on its belly.

Xiao exhales, raising his spear–

–and pauses.

There’s a pale hand that rests upon the bladed edge in a clear gesture for Stop. Xiao looks up sharply.

“You intend to let it live?” The girl –yet there is no doubt that this is no mere mortal girl– doesn’t say anything, but presses insistently upon his weapon. Please stand down, is her unmistakable, unspoken request.

The only reason why Xiao doesn’t point his spear at her in turn is because he knows that she actively fought the demons long prior to his arrival. It’s the only reason why there are humans who managed to escape this catastrophe.

Her appearance… Xiao does not recognize her. He admits that she looks similar to the snow women yokai of Inazuma, white hair and pale skin and clothed in Inazuman dress as she is. But she does not bear any powers of ice nor snow. If anything, the way the sword in her hand cuts through every obstacle without pause reminds him of the whispers of kunado-no-kami. But to his knowledge the last of them had died along with the Watatsumi Omikami that they served.

Regardless, Xiao does not intend to allow the current situation to go unanswered. If she was present here, fighting those strange demons that were decidedly not of Liyuan origin, then surely she knew how this incident came about in the first place.

“Explain,” Xiao says. He banishes his weapon, allowing it to dissipate into motes of golden light. “How did this situation come to be? Has the war in Inazuma worsened to such a state that it’s no longer able to contain malicious spirits within its own borders?”

The girl opens her mouth–

Oh.

Xiao blinks, genuinely surprised and caught off-guard. Her words…

“That’s a dialect I haven’t heard for quite some time.” He doesn’t have a perfect understanding of what she’s saying, especially given that the last time he’d heard this was… during the time of the Archon War, perhaps?

Xiao tilts his head. Is he looking at a survivor of the kunado-no-kami? … So far from the shores of Inazuma?

I apologize. I don’t understand what you’re saying.

Luckily for them both, Xiao is also old enough to know of the dead language that she speaks and discern the general meaning of her words, if not the precise details. Although Xiao is a Liyuan adeptus who has never once left the land in the thousands of years he’d lived, he has encountered gods of other lands, so he is not unfamiliar with other tongues.

That she is apparently unfamiliar with the language that is spoken in the present…

“Thank you for your assistance,” the kami bows. Polite, graceful. Xiao folds his arms across his chest and waits for her to explain. “… I’m afraid that this also came as an unexpected situation to me. I didn’t think that there would be a long-distance transportation array, and the barrier should’ve… no, I suppose that’s unimportant.”

She shakes her head.

“I was investigating a matter that was entrusted to me by my cousin, and ended up being ambushed by cursed spirits. Four total, the last of which you just slew,” she nods towards the fallen demon beneath him. “There was also a curse user, but he doesn’t seem to have been transported along with us. Ah, he would be the one responsible for teleporting us here. He needs to die.”

The words are spoken calmly, serenely. Xiao is aware of the dissonance here, but it’s not as if he disagrees. The regrettable casualties and wanton destruction around their current surroundings speak for themselves.

“And the demon you wish to spare?”

“Demon?” The kami blinks, then instantly understands what he’s referring to. “Ah, Muta-san? I’m afraid I can’t allow him to die yet, he’s the one I’m supposed to investigate. Although, given his current state I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to interrogate out of him…”

“I cannot allow such threats to remain within these lands.” It is his contract, and the duty that he must uphold as one of Rex Lapis’ adepti and his last yaksha.

“I understand,” she nods. “We will depart as soon as possible. If I may ask a question of you, where… are we?”

“You are within Dihua Marsh,” Xiao answers. Pauses, upon the uncomprehending way she looks at him, and elaborates, “Located upon the Bishui Plains.”

“… Did Not-Geto teleport us to China?” the kami mutters. “An entirely different country?”

Xiao stares at her. “This is the country of Liyue.”

The kami falls silent. Then, proceeds to take out a small pouch from her sleeve, and procures a strange device from it –a rectangular piece of metal that lights up with an artificial glow when she taps at it. There’s a small frown on her face, before she wipes the expression from her face with a long sigh.

“By any chance, do you have a name for this continent?”

Continent?

“… If you mean this world, it is named Teyvat,” Xiao says slowly.

Going by these questions… this is very likely not a kami of Inazuma who stands in front of him.

[whathorselegs]

Idk if this was obvious and it just didn't click for me, but I'm gonna talk about it anyways.

When I watched the anime, I never understood why the GSS aligned with The Sheep. Yes, they were both technically gangs, but one of them is a highly trained private security service gone rogue and the other is a group of scared kids with guns. It's not an alliance that makes much sense to me passed "The enemy of my enemy is my friend", meaning the Port Mafia. Which doesn't hold much strength to me, as they really don't seem any better equipped to take on the mafia after joining forces.

The Sheep were gaining a new source of protection. But the question I always had was what was the GSS gaining from The Sheep?

And I think after reading fifteen, I finally see what it is. It also makes the way The Sheep betrayed Chuuya make even more sense to me.

Because that's what the GSS supposedly gained, Chuuya's death.

Now this is just my interpretation of events, so bear with me. The obvious reason for The Sheep wanting Chuuya dead was because they thought he was joining the Port Mafia and thus betraying them. They knew they had no defence against Chuuya and you don't let a weapon like that fall into enemy hands, so you destroy it. There's also the personal grudge of having been- in their eyes- betrayed.

But now, I also think the GSS demanded Chuuya's death as part of their joining forces. After all, Chuuya had literally killed an entire squad and captain of their forces not long ago. That's an action that needs answering. Plus, the GSS need the security of knowing that The Sheep wouldn't just turn to Chuuya should he promise them shelter. They needed to secure The Sheep's loyalty.

So they demand Chuuya's death, they demand The Sheep are the one to do it. They get their revenge at no cost to themselves and ensure The Sheep's ties to their old leader are completely severed. They won't have to worry about descent in their ranks.

When Shirase says Chuuya can serve The Sheep one last time by dying, I think that's what he means. It also makes me wonder if that's why Shirase is specifically the one holding the knife, because he was the one closest to Chuuya.

He invited Chuuya into The Sheep, he was the one that fought for Chuuya's place there. In the arcade scene he says he's the one that's been pushing back against the rumours that Chuuya was a traitor. Shirase truly was Chuuya's first and last friend in The Sheep. Of course, he had to be his Judas too.

[ineffectualdemon]

Ok so having once lived in poverty, suffered painful abusive childhoods, and bearing a "will do anything to survive" mentality are things Shang Qinghua/Airplane, Shen Jiu, and Luo Binghe share thanks to their experiences growing up in the SVSSS/PIDW verse

(Note, we don't get a lot about Airplane/Shang Qinghua's childhood but he does state when he meets Shen Qingqiu that as Shang Qinghua his childhood was "destitute and miserable" so we know his second childhood was bad)

Now they handle it differently to an extent

Shen Jiu refuses to admit weakness and lashes out around him at anyone who he thinks got what he wanted naturally. He cares his anger and resentment for people who had more and more easily out in the open. He holds grudges and never bothers to explain his side because why would anyone believe him?

Shang Qinghua plays up his weakness to elicit at pity though he doesn't object to disgust as long as it ends up with him dismissed as a threat and he'll take abuse for a long time but he does have a breaking point as he has the same rage as Shen Jiu but it's boiling under the pressure for a long time. He also holds grudges and doesn't bother to speak on his own defense until he is pushed to the edge. He also lies like he was born for it

Luo Binghe is kind of a mix to the above approaches but refined. He's openly antogonistic when it serves him or Xin Mo get the better of him but he also plays up his "weaknesses" and his good boy persona when it serves him. And I don't just mean his crocodile tears for Shen Qingqiu. There is a reason he had Huan Hua under his thumb so fast. And he has a lot of rage in him too which is used by Xin Mo (though more thoroughly in PIDW). Again, he holds grudges, doesn't explain his own actions and thoughts and feelings or speak to his own defense when hate is turned on him and like Shang Qinghua is an adept liar.

They are all (if it's SVSSS Luo Binghe) also obsessed with a person who offers both protection and hurt

(side note: Shen Jiu: Mansplain, Shang Qinghua: Manipulate, Luo Binghe: Man-whore)

Anyway the above is to point out their differences and some of their similarities

But what else might they be similar in?

Speculation town-

Hidden stashes: I would not be surprised if all three of them kept stashes in case they had to run at all times. In the case of Luo Binghe and Shang Qinghua this includes after their happy endings

Trouble sleeping: We know this with Shen Jiu and how he handled it, Luo Binghe I think uses his dream abilities to feel safe and secure during sleep but it's not as restful as it could be, and Shang Qinghua overworks to avoid sleeping

...I know there are more possible but I'm tired and I still want to post this

But yeah