#HE MARKED ME OFF FOR USING A CONCEPT THAT HE APPROVED TWICE

[criticallyconcealedchaos]

I am so filled with rage over something I know is inconsequential but I have no idea how to get rid of this feeling where I want to tear this world apart throw him into the depths of hell and scream for a thousand years

[ktheist]

title. “it’s armani, not polyester.” | m

pairings. ceo!jimin x secretary!reader x ex-boyfriend!director!jeongguk

inspired by. conan grey’s heather.

genre. e2f - f2l , office romance, sugar daddy-baby-esque.

words. 10.6k

warnings. explicit content (obviously). mentions of alcohol use. 

concept. a retelling of conan grey’s heather in its future days.

story time.

x

“that’s your ex?” wendy blinks once before proceeding to openly ogle the - as per jennie’s excited text - ‘tall and handsome as hell cutie’ who’s in the middle of speaking to irene who seems to be sporting a larger-than-her-daily smile as her body moves as she nods and laughs and nods again, “i mean - i was expecting some hobo looking guy with spectacles bigger than his head and snot running down his face.”

with a cringe, you shoot her a much needed side eye, “okay first off - ew,”  throwing your gaze back at jeongguk, “second off, we only dated for like three months before everyone started sleeping with everybody.”

“like orgies and shits?” this time, it’s her turn to cringe.

“no,” you roll your eyes, “i mean we had our first fight, he slept with my best friend so i slept with his brother who was dating that best friend.”

“oh,” you can almost feel the way her eyes shift from you ex to you as you continue to type on the computer, “guess no more family dinners.”

“it gets better,” you feel a creep up your face as you turn to meet her wide eyed gaze, “me and his brother got into the same college and we decided to stay friends and now his mom knows me as taehyung’s best friend instead of her second child’s ex-girlfriend.”

by the end of it, wendy’s jaw is quite literally on the floor, missing her chance to greet the cutie who’s obviously led here by irene. standing up, you fix the man who seems to have turned into ice, “thank you, irene, i’ll take it from here,” without even missing a beat you give jeongguk a once over, admitting his worth of the nickname he’ll soon forth be known as in the office, “mr. jeon, mr. park is thrilled to meet you.”

jimin didn’t exactly say that - he only yawned when you briefed him about the interview with the possible new tech guy before dozing off in the passenger seat for the rest of the ride.

“you work here?” thawed from his initial shock, jeongguk hurriedly tries to catch up to you when he sees you walking towards the double doors of your boss’ office which is just twenty feet away.

“oh no, i just deliver pizza and happen to know where the ceo’s office is,” and that marks your second eyeroll for the day to which jeongguk’s lips tuck into a blatant sneer.

before he even finished his “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed”, you’re already knocking twice on the door before strutting into the room where jimin’s face lights up at the sight of you before returning to its unsmiling state when his eyes lands on something over your shoulder.

“mr. park, mr. jeon is here for the interview for the management information systems director position,” you hand him the ipad with jeongguk’s resume opened and ready for inspection.

jeongguk pretends not to see your feigned smile as you pass him but before you manage to exit the room, a voice stops you, “oh, miss ____, do you mind telling  irene to make me an extra strong coffee?”

“i can make that, mr. park,” you announce, eyebrows threatening to weave themselves together at the peculiar order.

jimin only chuckles, “miss ____, you and i’s definition of extra strong is vastly different,” but before you can debunk it, he’s already complementing his insult with a praise, “you make the nicest chamomile tea though.”

all while jeon jeongguk stands in the middle of the way yet he’s the last thing you see and probably the last thing jimin notices.

“that’s fair,” with a nod and an amused smile, you leave through the door, knowing full well jeongguk is more than able to distinguish between what’s a facade and what’s not.

and he may very well be the first to call bullshit on your too respectful interactions with your boss.

x

jeongguk gets the position. naturally, he would - he graduated at the top of his class, became valedictorian, dished out an inspiring speech to which taehyung showed you a video of when you were having your trimonthly meet up a year a ago.

he was a cutie with brains and brawn. his department sucked him in as their new director and colleague in no time. the news of the new tall and handsome as hell cutie who apparently looks better than most people in suit has spread to every other department with wendy and irene liasing between the rumors - considering the fact that they take the ‘first interaction’ privilege.

perks of being part of jimin’s secretary trio, you suppose.

the aforementioned man peeks up at you with a smirk, his leather black salvator snaking up the side of your black mesh pantyhose as you stand in front of him and just until five seconds ago, were briefing him about his meeting with the representative of the manufacturing company for the new chip.

“miss jisoo will be here in two hours and she’ll be discussing the direct materials cost, direct labor cost and manufacturing overhead - that’s where i’ll need you to pay attention because maque it is known for their concrete bargains but exceptional product outcome.” you inform.

“mr. park,” his eyes snap to yours, “my eyes are up here.”

you’re not sure what he sees, but it may or may not have something to do with your unyielding force but flirtatious tone - either way, he lets out a surrendered chuckle.

“i got it - bargain, get the cheapest overall cost but the best production,” he says before guiding your hand that’s under his chin to his mouth, taking your pinky finger between his pearly whites.

“good, call me if you need anything else,” you nod in approval, lips curling into a satisfied smile before summoning your hand back to your side.

the sound of your heels reverberate against the walls as you make your way to the doors but before you manage to step one foot out, he’s calling out for you, “____,” voice unsettlingly calm but his words couldn’t have been any more overbearing, “i expect the same amount of dedication for your... other line of work.”

you would have let that smile tuck into a knowing smirk, would have given him something to look forward to - enough to keep him on his toes for the rest of the day but not enough to be a distraction to his tasks. if not for the sight of a flock of wavy black hair and darkest brown eyes.

“mr. jeon,” your voice may have rose a pitch higher but you’ve managed to school it into a pleasant smile, “how may i help you?”

jeongguk’s eyebrows falter just the slightest bit as a flash of confusion mixed with suspicion crosses his face before he plainly says, “i have something to discuss with the ceo about my work.”

“i’m not sure how things work at your previous company but you need to schedule a meeting with mr. park before anything else but i’ll be glad to navigate you through your scope of duty since mr. park will redirect me to you anyway,” you say simply, noticing how the man’s eyes flit towards the tinted grey glass with three horizontal parallel line down the middle where one can distortedly see jimin’s body turned towards the glass the way it had been when you last saw him.

clearly, he’s watching this unfold through the same see through space.

“it’ll just take a sec - i promise,” jeongguk sounds halfway annoyed with your insistence.

when he takes a step to the side, you take another to the same side, “mr. jeon, this kind of behavior - and on your first day, at that - isn’t something you need on your record and i didn’t make that policy, it was mr. park,” with a the slightest tilt of your head, you let the smile turn into a snide one, “and since you’ve been going around chatting with your new coworkers, you should know a thing or two about how seriously mr. park values one’s descipline during work.”

he shoots you one last pondering look, tongue forming a gentle protrusion in his left cheek like he’d unconsciously do when he’s debating to do the opposite of what he’s told by first agreeing and then finding another way to get what he wants.

“fine,” his shoulder line jolts as he shrugs, hands shoved into his pocket as a strand of hair falls over his forehead, “i need a list of names of the people in my department as well as the last twenty year’s worth of projects held by the company.”

the smile you have on threatens to split into a disgruntled sneer at his ridiculous demand. ten years is the maximum amount of time someone would take to review and understand the workings of the company. fifteen is a stretch because there’s a chance of a change of policy. but a record of the past ten years means you’ll have to do some digging in the storage room since not all files were digitalized and being the new director of the IT department, jeon jeongguk is not oblivious to that very fact.

“i’ll have them on your desk by thursday,” you announce and he reiterates, “i need them by tomorrow.”

and that’s the last straw for you - letting out a sound between a scoff and a snide laughter, you place your hand on your hip, “huh, are you crazy?”

“i mean, as the new director, i need to learn the ropes of the company asap, no? don’t tell me you can’t even do that?” a smile creeps up jeongguk’s face, one that mimics that of a predator who’s caught his prey walking straight into his trap, “and all that talk about discipline.”

the contemptuous chuckle at the end is what boils the blood in your veins and before you know it, you’re spouting out words that you instantaneously regret as soon as they come out.

“of course, i’ll have them on your desk by tomorrow.”

x

“achoo!”

you curse underneath your breath as you sniffle from the remnants of the sneeze. fourty-three minutes in and you’re already on your nth sneezing fit. index finger flitting across the labels on the box, it takes you three nose scrunching and five boxes down the shelf to find a light blue label with ‘1998′ written next to a ‘september’.

well, that’s the second month of the year 1998 that you’ve managed to locate. the process repeats itself for a good twelve more minutes before you hear the screech of the in-need-of-oiling door and the echo of footsteps against the quiet walls before a tall, black haired figure steps into your periphery.

he’s looking as fresh and crisp as the tie hanging around his neck while you’re pretty sure your updo hair is halfway to giving out to gravity with how you’ve been moving boxes of files around.

“so what are we looking for?” jeongguk begins unnervingly calmly.

but you’re not one to turn down a hand, “anything blue with a label of 1990 up till 2010 - oh and they come in months.”

instead of complaining or at least making his displeasure known, the man simply starts searching the shelves five feet apart from you.

and so it goes, your file searching journey with your ex slash newly appointed coworker. multiple scenarios rushed through your head when you first heard jimin’s excellent review after jeongguk left. the elder man had been typing away on his mac when you’d come to pick up the empty mugs of coffee when he’d passingly say, “you know, there’s something about him that the other candidates lack - where’d you find this guy?”

but you never thought that being stuck in the files room alone would ever come up with this outcome-

“i heard you were the one who recommended me,” that voice of his is as sweet as the first drop of nectar but instead of the boyish tint, it’s tinged with a taste of wine and masculinity.

it’s familiar yet foreign all at once.

“then you must know all three secretaries were required to pick someone to recommend the job for,” with that, you twirl on your heels, a partially full box in your hand as you strut towards the desk where its blue shaded comrades awaits.

“so i’ve been told,” and that’s how you know jeongguk’s initial casual nature was just a facade to conceal his guilt-ridden conscience, “why didn’t you tell me? you didn’t even sign your name in the email - you never mentioned anything -”

“it’s nothing personal, guk,” you cut him off, back on him you pretend to rummage through each individual file of the recent box you’d found, “we needed a new IT director and you fit the criteria but if i gave out any indication that i was the one who reached out to you, your decisions might be affected by that - even just the slightest bit and that’s the last thing i want,” you say simply, “not to mention we pay better - so you get it, right?”

when you twirl around to face him, arms crossed over you chest, ass leaned up against the desk whilst your left knee slants to rest over its right counterpart, you finally meet the man’s curious doe eyes. they’re marred with the signs of life but still as exuberant and beautiful as the first day he stopped you in the hallway. his smiles are more expensive now and he doesn’t shyly look down before talking to you but he’s still the same high school heartthrob you’d had the fattest crush on.

and that’s the thing about high school and the matters of the heart - they’re meant to stay in the past as a fond yet foolish reminder of the things you would do when you were 16.

“i can’t have my guy prancing around the office like an uncivilized raccoon and ji- mr. park is extremely particular about time,” you sigh, throwing your gaze to your blood red soles if only because you can’t hold his gaze longer than this, “trust me, i don’t do things to inconvenience you just because i should have some kind of personal vendetta against you - i don’t.”

“wonder why i have been getting the opposite vibe from you ever since i came,” his shoulder line jolts slightly as he shrugs, eyes rolling but the tiniest smile on his face tells you that it’s all a good natured jest.

“i’m sorry - every time i look at you, it feels like i went back to being that high school girl who lashed out at everyone and everything,” it’s the way his eyes sparkle like stars at your words that drives you to quickly add, “my therapist told me to take a step back every time i feel like saying something mean to you because it’s just my own defense mechanism - i’m still working on it.”

“oh,” is all he says before a blanket of silence wraps around the both of you. it goes on for the longest moment with jeongguk’s unfocused yet heavy gaze on you.

he does that - staring off at something when he’s processing information and knowing his ex-girlfriend who he cheated on now goes to therapy, isn’t something one hears everyday.

“well, let’s get these,” you light tap the box on your left, “to your office - i’ll have the intern pick the rest later.”

“oh-” almost as though snapped from a daze, jeongguk blinks. one. twice. until he’s rushing to your side to get at least two boxes, one piled on top of the other, in each arm while you choose to only carry two.

when he finally finds his words, the first thing he says it -“you don’t have to get me all 20 years of record - 10 is enough and if you walk me through how things work, i’d be really grateful.”

you scoff, a smile on your lips before he mimics yours, “are you like, concerned about me cause i told you i’m seeing therapist -”

“me? concerned? about you?” his body moves along with his eye roll but his tone lacks the sarcasm he’s intending, “not in a thousand years.”

x

jeongguk is concerned. he tips toes around you like you’re the thinly veiled ice over a lake of emotions. as though one wrong move and you’ll break. and that’s how you know you’re not the only one who’s changed and grown with the years you spent apart.

the jeon jeongguk you knew couldn’t care less if you’d fallen into the darkest depth of your ruins - only because you’d hurt him just as much.

though you haven’t got to the point of having lunch together like wendy and irene and the entire team from his department had, you’ve had moments in between  coming back from lunch with jimin and just before lunch hour is up where you’re in the pantry with ice cream in your hand and your phone in the other.

while you’re sure no one would be coming around this time of the day, jeon jeongguk finds away to surprise you with his sudden appearance. strutting in as if he doesn’t notice you, picking up the instant coffee packet only to place one newly stirred coffee cup between you and him as he sips his own that he made with the one he’s apparently gifting you.

“why?” you narrow your eyes at him, suspicion filling every inch of your curled lips.

“oh you know,” his shoulder line shrugs and you realize he’s grown a few inches taller because his shoulder fully past your head, “cause i heard you like your coffees with cream too.”

“how do i know it’s not poisoned?” still dubious, you keep your eyes on him like a hawk - nothing can get past you, not even a nervous gulp.

but instead, he throws his head back, sighing, “___, you literally saw me make them.”

“i don’t know, you’re acting kinda sus, guk,” you insist, phone screen long dead as you take one last bite of the ice cream before tossing the stick into the trashcan.

“sus? me?” his free hand comes flying up to his chest as he looks at you in disbelief.

“give me yours,” you finally announce, hand struck out with your palm facing upwards.

“whatever, idiot,” he shakes his head still, despite failing to hide the tiniest smile that begins to tuck on the corners of his lips before placing the cup he’s been holding on your awaiting hand.

“yay,” you grin, delighted before taking  one long sip and breathing out in satisfaction, “i live another day.”

x

and so it goes, the light banters between moments in time. luckily for you, jeongguk is all round charmer that makes anyone and everyone - men, women and non-bonarys alike - who’s talking to him smile from ear to ear from something he says. possibly a compliment, possibly an agreement to what the other party was saying.

nobody suspected that either of you knew each other prior to this and that’s one less office rumor to look out for. you offer to help jeongguk settle in, murmuring names of the people who greets him so that he’d greet back with their informed name, seeing their faces light up a bit more at the realization that their new boss’s recognition.

“aren’t you with park 24/7? how do you know everyone in this company?” he asks one fine morning after you both got to his desk.

“i’d say it’s talent but i basically had to memorize them overnight right after i joined,” you shrug, “it wasn’t easy but you realize the difference it makes in everyone’s performance when they think their boss knows who they are.”

“so that’s the kind of person park is,” jeongguk nods whilst clicking on the ‘transfer files’ option on the screen of his computer.

“mr. park isn’t like the devil boss from hell - he’s just really self-disciplined,” you correct.

“if he was then why did he make you memorize the names of his employees?” he shoots you a look, one that says ‘you know i’m right’ to which you only roll your eyes.

“the same reason why he needs three secretaries to do his bidding - he’s too busy,” you shoot him a ‘no, you’re not’ look before sticking out your hand after the files are finish being transferred.

“how come i only get one?” his eyebrows knit together in a mixture of dissatisfaction and confusion as he places the usb drive into your hand, not quite showing any signs to take his own hand off just yet.

“maybe ‘cause you’re not that important?” you shoot him a similar ‘you know i’m right’ kind of manner and before he can even say anything, you’re curling your hand over the drive before twirling on your heels.

“ouch, you know that kinda hurts,” a voice comes up behind you and almost like a tidal wave, your apology comes in a second too soon, “really? sorry, i went too far-”

before you can even finish your words, you’re left rooted in your spot. a few feet away from the glass encased room where most of the executives and their secretaries are seen stepping in.

it’s the chuckle that reverberates against your eardrums that washes away your initial guilt like sand on shore, “you’re so-” jeongguk pauses, staring at you with eyes you can’t quite decipher and a flash of emotion you have never seen him make, “you’re so soft, you know that?”

“that wasn’t funny, jeongguk,” you fix him a hard stare, arms crossing over your chest.

“sorry - what i meant is,” and that’s the thing about the two of you - ever since you’d admitted your faults, jeongguk has followed your lead to apologize first. pride seems to be the last thing standing between the two of you at the moment - and it’s times like these, where you’re willing to listen and he’s willing to explain, that you think you might just escape that dark dwelling you call your past.

“miss ___,” a familiar voice drums in your ears, a hand on your lower back pulling your attention from the man in front of you to the attractive devil that’s on your side. the infernal spark in those dark eyes of his disappears as soon as he turns to - “jeongguk, i take it miss ____ has been a great help with the presentation you’re about to show us?”

“yes,” the aforementioned man nods, a look of unadulterated confidence making its way to his face as it replaced the lingering stare where jimin’s arm disappeared behind you, “i couldn’t have finished it this fast without ___.”

at jeongguk’s words, jimin lets a smile slip onto his strong features, making him look less like the unapproachable man he’s known for, “i’m looking forward to it.”

it’s only after jeongguk is walking a few steps ahead towards the open doors of the meeting room and jimin’s hand has long left your body, does the man murmur under his breath, “i’ve received applications for jeongguk’s secretary position, do you mind looking through them for me? though... i left them at my place - if you could come up with me to pick them later after work, it’d be great.”

“really?” you quickly say, before realizing it’d come off too excited for a request of overtime so you clear your throat, looking around the vicinity to see if anyone noticed, “i mean, yes, i can do that - i can drop by for a few minutes.”

“perfect,” his eyes disappears into crescents as the corners of his lips tuck higher before you part ways - him taking the seat at the end of the oval table while you head over to the computers connected to the projector, shoving the drive you’ve had trapped in your hand into its port.

x

“i’ve heard some things,” jimin’s honey voice is barely the subject of your conscience as you watch his lithe fingers working around the buckle of his belt until one end hangs loose before he pulls on the other, the sound of leather against fabric cutting the air like knife.

after jeongguk’s presentation which was met with praises and positive responses by the board, jimin had easily approved of the proposed updates on the - as the first would call it - a tad bit out dated data base. when the wendy, irene and the rest of his team was about to head out for dinner to celebrate their well earned success, you’d belatedly told them that you couldn’t make it because you had to drive jimin home.

seeing as it was a norm for the head secretary to also take on the role of the ceo’s chauffer, nobody questioned it.

nobody but the latest addition to the company.

jeongguk looked like he wanted to say something, stared at you a little longer as you fixed him and the rest of your leaving coworkers a ‘have fun, guys!’ kind of wave. but you suppose that could wait.

“i didn’t think you’d be one to pay attention to rumors,” you manage to say, swallowing heavily as you tear your gaze from jimin’s apt hands that are looping the belt into its buckle.

“this one’s a little bit interesting,” the chuckle he lets out is sinfully innocent compared to the way he slips the looped belt through your head and pulls on it, forcing the leather material to envelop your neck like a collar, “something about you and jeon having a special relationship.”

“that’s-” the words gets stuck in your throat when your heart leaps up at the slightest tuck on your neck, almost as if he’s saying to ‘choose your words carefully, dove.’

“it’s a matter of the distant past,” you say, sending a grateful prayer to the gods for allowing your voice to sound unbothered.

“didn’t seem like what the rumors are saying,” his breath fans your face as he whispers against your ear - you have to clench your fists together to stop the shivers from wracking through your body, “but that’s alright - at the end of the day, it’s my name you’re screaming.”

a moan escapes your mouth when a pair of plump lips press against yours. sparks in your veins and passion in your heart. before you know it, you’re blindly grasping onto the zipper of of jimin’s trousers, salivating at the thought of a part of him you know too well.

“please, daddy, let me suck your dick,” you plea, eyebrows knitting together with a sort of yearning and frustration from how achingly patient the striking blonde man in front of you is.

if it were up to him, you’d be soaking up the carpeted floor with your arousal throughout the night and he’d still manage to edge you on until you’re begging to come.

but that’s the thing, either way, you’re going to be begging for him. and you’d learned earlier on that you gain less from holding onto your pride than holding onto jimin’s dick.

with your mouth, that is.

x

it’s the morning after that - that you curse yourself for not putting any restraints to your carnal desires. in your defense though, begging and pleading jimin to push you to your limits seemed like an irresistible option at the time. that is, until you’re digging out what clothes you have in the drawer in your allocated room only to find most of them catering to the neck-to-just-above-the-cleavage-reveal kind of look.

so you opt for scarves - the bruises aren’t bad but the first days are always the hardest. and jimin notices the way you’re craning your neck from side to side as you keep your eyes trained on the red light that’s about to turn green anytime soon.

“does it hurt?” the saccharine sweet voice drips with honeyed concern whilst his hand goes to massage the back of your neck.

you hum in appreciation, “that feels good.”

“maybe i should’ve been gentler,” the tinge of remorse in his voice doesn’t go past you.

“that’s not even where it hurts most,” you giggle, feeling the familiar tingle in between your legs but you manage to push it to the back of your mind as you say, “but you know i like it when you’re rough.”

jimin only laughs, head shaking at your blatant confession. and so the mini massage session continues until the car starts rolling into motion. you go on with your morning routine of reminding him of the list of things he’ll have to do and people to meet for the day.

it’s only after you’ve parked the car and turning off the ignition that your phone dings with a notification of a ‘you received 50, 000 dollars from park jimin’.

squealing, you hop out of the car, heels click clacking against the concrete as you mini run towards the blond who’d slipped out of the car a second earlier.

“thank you, daddy!” you grin, hands wrapping around his arm as he chuckles softly, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

“i booked you a session at lotus nirvana for the weekend,” he says a minute later as you stand in front of the elevator.

“oh my god,” you gasp, jaw hitting the floor, “the lotus? really?”

“and you can bring a plus one,” he boops your nose with his index finger, making you scrunch it because of the ticklish feeling it leaves.

“you’re the best!” you stand on your tip toes, placing a kiss on his cheekbone just before the elevator stops one level below the ceo and chairman’s parking level, revealing none other than jeongguk in a dashing cobalt blue louis vouitton suit.

you’ve managed to detach yourself from the now-unsmiling ceo who shoots the newcomer a brief smile as a greeting when jeongguk takes longer to look between you and his boss before finally stepping in.

“morning,” you greet with a wave, hoping to brush off the elephant in the room.

the man echoes back your words but nothing else - at least until you reach the 19th floor where jimin turns to you, hands in his pocket, “miss ___ i need to discuss something with you in my office,” just before you’re about to point out the sunken eyes in the younger man’s appearance.

“yes, mr. park,” you say in a heartbeat, before mouthing a ‘catch you later’ to the brunette.

x

in the next few days, you’ve opt for a variety of scarves to match your outfit. but more importantly, to hide the darkening bruises around your neck as you style your hair to hide what the scarves can’t.

it’s times like these that you keep your distance from people, choosing to stay in front of the computer unless jimin calls for you. whether to ask for if you’re up for having lunch with him, to inquire about the meeting he has or simply to just say “i miss your chamomile tea.”

at that, you can’t help but let the giggle break through your iron wall of a facade, “that’s what you called me for?”

the man’s eyes flit to the right for the briefest second, as though in search for a better answer which he finds none of before meeting your own, “yep, that’s what i called you for.”

“you’re so cute, daddy,” you gush, before placing you ipad down on the desk, hands coming up to frame around jimin’s cheeks as they turn round from the smile that slips onto his face, “i’ll make some for you tonight!” but then your shoulder line falls, eyebrows coming together, “wait - i have dinner with jeongguk tonight.”

“you mean jeon?” he raises an amused eyebrow to which you nod, hands falling away from his cheeks.

“i’ve been avoiding him these past few days and i think he’s getting a little suspicious about us spending so much time together - he thinks you’re... forcing me to do things,” you sigh - just this morning, the black haired cutie caught you in the middle of your way to your desk, pulling you to the side with a set of concerned eyebrows knitted together, “are you okay?”

you took a moment, eyes roaming around the vicinity as though it’d help spot the reason to this abrupt intervention before looking back at him, smiling cluelessly “...yeah, i’m fine.”

he let go of your arm to push his soft tresses which seemed to be missing its usual slick gelled look today, “the ladies have been saying park tends to work you to the bones every few times a month - like right now, and that’s a normal thing here?”

and because it wasn’t the kind of question you got asked often - people just accepted and were even glad that it wasn’t them that jimin was calling to his office every hour throughout the day, you had to take a moment to ponder on your answer “...yeah, it’s normal.”

“and you don’t care?” jeongguk’s blinked, mortified.

“i mean, that’s my livelihood right there so...” and you shrugged.

“i don’t know, i don’t like him,” his shoulder line tensed as he turned his body towards the wall sized window, eyes casted towards the neighboring skyscrapers.

“why?” was all you said - you’d understand intimidating. strict. unapproachable to describe the words jimin is, but no one’s ever confessed to outright disliking the man. but then again, you are the closest person to jimin in the company, no employee would risk getting fired because they blurted out their dissatisfaction towards their ceo to his head secretary.

“there’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way,” instead of shrugging like what 17-year old jeongguk would have done, this older version of him didn’t even stutter.

you suppose one’s confidence and sense of reasoning - even though there wasn’t any particular reason for him to dislike jimin-

“...something about a ceo calling his head secretary ‘miss’ while he casually address everyone else by their name but never really talk to anyone beyond business matters while nobody’s has a single bad thing to say about him,” when jeongguk’s obsidian eyes fell on you, it was as though the background faded and you found yourself trapped in a glass cage - unable to run away from the truth he seemed to possess, “especially the person he’s overworking the most.”

“well,” there’s this habit that you do - laughing in the face of crisis and this was damn well a crisis because, “if you feel that way then you feel that way.”

“is there something you want to tell me?” he pressed on, speaking under his breath, “if you need help, you can always come to me.”

and that was when the laughter broke into a fit and you’re holding your stomach and his shoulder with your other hand, “jeongguk - i’m fine, really,” there was a tremble in his eyes as self doubt crept up his conscience, which meant whatever you were doing was working, “listen, how bout we go for dinner tonight with wendy and irene? i’m late but i wanna hear how your first staff dinner went.”

you managed to escape jeongguk right after his ‘...yeah, sure’ before mrs. yoo came up to you to ask about the arrangements of the seating for the upcoming corporate dinner. it’s in five months but preparations must be made in advance.

“if he’s starting to notice that means i’m not the only whose got his eyes on you,” the sweet honeyed voice pulls you out of your memories, almond shaped eyes staring at you with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

and for some reason, you felt the need to clarify where you stand and where jeongguk stands, “we were kids when we started dating - we know better now that both of us clash like two magnets on the opposite poles if we go beyond what friends are.”

“you know i have the utmost respect for you,” butterflies set flight in your stomach when jimin guides your right hand to his lips.

x

the place you end up going to is called han chu where it’s most famous for its variety of chicken-based cuisine which happens to be irene’s boyfriend’s family’s long standing business. it’d been packed with people, mostly those who’d got off work like yourselves but apparently, they have a different room for adhoc visitors who popped up out of nowhere.

“irene’s taking a long time at the washroom,” wendy announces, a small, jealous pout on her lips as she sticks her chopsticks into the rice bowl before you and jeongguk exchange a knowing look with each other.

since her boyfriend works here, you’re pretty sure that everyone in the room knows irene, in fact, did not go to the washroom. and wendy isn’t too secretive about her want for a man she can call her own to which, two bottles of soju later, she slams her glass against the table and confesses, “i’m so lonely, i want a boyfriend!”

by then, irene’s already back and chiding the younger woman about how she needs to stop drinking so much because apparently, at jeongguk’s congratutional dinner, she was that coworker that drank herself silly and might or might have not blurted out something about jeongguk’s exceptional proportions in front of the entire IT department.

“___! you’re single, right?” the way jeongguk’s hand seems to be take longer to pick up one of those spicy-sweet chicken even though he was gobbling them up like there was no tomorrow just five seconds ago, doesn’t go unnoticed by you, “let’s go to a mixer! i’ll text my friend to include our names for one this weekend.”

this time, the way jeongguk’s visibly tensed shoulder line is no coincidence.

“i’m good, thanks,” you chuckle, patting the woman’s shoulder.

irene on the other hand, looks increasingly worried about her fellow coworker as time passes. it’s when wendy starts to gulp down the soju straight from the bottle that you step in, swiping it out of her hands and placing it back down on the table.

“alright, that’s enough for tonight, let’s get you home” at that, you shoot irene a signal with your eyes, counting a short ‘1,2,3′ before you both hoist her up to her feet, directing her arm over your shoulder while irene does the same with the other one.

“i’ll get the car - you ladies wait at the front of the restaurant ” jeongguk announces, just as you step out of the room.

“thanks, guk,” you fix him an appreciative smile, grateful for not having to drag the half-conscious woman’s body all the way to the parking lot.

“you know, he’s been staring at you the whole night,” a voice giggles - and seeing how wendy can barely even open her eyes, that could only mean that it’s the only other woman that’s holding her up that also decided to let out such absurd statement.

“that’s cause i was sitting next to wendy - who by the way, isn’t exactly a quiet drinker,” you roll your eyes, before a separately realization hits you- “you didn’t drink.”

“well, i can’t really at the moment,” the brunette’s voice takes a gentler turn as you watch her free hand clasp her stomach.

“oh my god,” jaws on the ground, you’re not sure if you’re even blinking, “you’re pregnant? how long far along are you?”

“a month, me and jae were discussing how we’re gonna tell our families,” she meets your wide eyed gaze half-heartedly, “and if i’m going to continue working after i give birth.”

“either way i’m so happy for you,” you reach out your free hand that’s not wrapped around wendy’s waist to which the elder woman accepts, squeezing your hand just hard enough for you to feel her fears and excitement and overflowing joy flow through you, “you and jaebum are gonna be the best parents.”

“i never really said it but you helped me a lot when i just started,” the tears in her eyes makes them look like sparkling stars in the midnight sky, “and you’ve always been so supportive - seriously, ___, thank you.”

“stop,” you squeak in between holding your breath and holding back your tears, “i’m gonna cry.”

“if you cry, i’ll cry,” irene is already pulling her hand away and fanning her face, glimmering eyes turned to the sky.

it’s a moment later that a car rolls to a stop in front of the two of you. the window rolling down, revealing an extremely concerned jeongguk, “what happened?”

the “it’s a girl thing” comes a few moments later, particularly after you slipped into the passenger’s seat next to him while irene sits at the back with wendy’s head in her lap.

by the time you reach wendy’s apartment building, irene announces that she’s staying over at the first. if only to look after the drunken woman and make sure she’s okay.

“are you sure?” you ask to which she nods, murmuring something about how wendy couldn’t survive without her hungover soup if she didn’t stay and make it.

wendy manages to sober up and walk with irene holding her hand. and with the way she’s slow-waving at you, you take it as your cue to leave too.

“call me if you need anything, okay?” is the last thing you say before the two of them step through the clear glass door.

the rest of the ride is filled with silence, save for the faint sound of low volumed music in the background. 

that is, until one of you decides to break it with a kind of heartwarming concern you thought already left his mind, “so are you okay?” he peeks at you from the corner of his eyes, as if to check if the tears were still there, “you were crying just now.”

you can’t help but laugh, “don’t worry - they were tears of joy.”

“oh?” only then does he allow the smile to tuck on the corner of his lips, “what about?”

“i don’t know if i can say it,” you feel your own lips curling, “not my story to tell.”

“okay,” he nods, “as long as you’re okay.”

and so the silence returns but this time, it’s no where suffocating or makes you want to hop out of a moving car just to get away from the man you thought you could never stand to be alone with five months ago.

at first, you told yourself that it was for the good of the company - that you didn’t need to be friends, civility was enough. but then you had that talk in the storage room - both equally tensed but both grown out of their youthful impatience into someone who was willing to listen and learn.

and you realized that you work well together - too well, in fact, that jeongguk’s own secretary would come to you even after four months of working with him, just to ask you if he’d prefer his coffees black or with cream.

but you suppose it was because this was her first job after graduating - you were used to taking notes of the littlest of things jeongguk did because that was what worked best for jimin. that, minus the already known facts about jeon jeongguk that you’d gathered during your two years of knowing him and three months of dating him.

and it’s almost as though the plants and the stars align, as the car comes to a stop in front of your apartment building and as he pulls the brake before turning his upper half towards you, “i had a great time tonight.”

“me too, guk, and thanks for driving irene, wendy and me home - you’ve become quite the gentleman,” you chuckle to which the corners of his lips upturns, while his eyes casts itself down to his hands before they meet yours again.

“it was the right thing to do,” but then you can’t escape his eyes - those obsidian eyes that seem to reach through the windows of your soul effortlessly.

“well,” the smile may have been forced but it’s still comes from the heart, “i better go in.”

“yeah - yeah you should,” he nods and you thought you’re just imagining things - irene’s initial observation might or might not have gotten to you.

but just as you’re about to open the door, hand on the handle, jeongguk speaks again, “i was hoping,” at that, you turn to him, “you and me,” you can only hope he can’t hear the sound of your pumping heart, “we could try again, you know?”

you’d like to believe that you’ve gone past that part of your life where you hurt and you hurt others back - the ones that tried to help you, pull you out of that darkened cocoon that you grew so accustomed to.

like to believe that it took a bit more nudging for you to break through the cocoon and that was okay - everyone needed a little bit of help at some point of their life. yours happened to be when you were sixteen hitting seventeen. and even now, you still need help to fly - to let your wings flutter through the wind without breaking and hitting the hard cold ground.

but all of a sudden, you find yourself that same cocoon you thought you abandoned with the ugliest dark brown and maroon walls - the color of the school mascot that seemed to be the symbol of the baseball team’s undefeated victory throughout the year. and all because taehyung’s brother, jeongguk just joined the team.

and you were just one of the many girls who had her eyes on the ace. except your best friend was dating the captain so you sometimes joined her as she watched him practice. until jeongguk noticed you. until he lift you up and broke you down.

“jeongguk,” you say, heart erratically clawing against your chest - obsidian is the color of jeongguk’s eyes as he waited for your answer with bated breath, a rap song is playing in the background, smooth is the material of the handle of the door under your fingertips, marc jacobs is the perfume that faintly wafts from jeongguk’s collar and sweet is the taste of peach soju you had, “i think it’s best to maintain a professional working relationship instead.”

almost as though being pulled from a trance, jeongguk recoils, eyes blinking once before he blurts out a “yeah,” then, a moment later, “yeah, that’s probably the best - sorry for-”

“it’s fine,” you shrug.

“-making everything awkward.” he finally stops.

“i’ll see you on monday,” you say - not so sure if it’s the right thing to say, but jeongguk nods, echoing your words, “yeah - see you monday.”

and with that, you slip out of the car, heels clicking against the ground as you tread towards the door without looking back.

x

monday turns to tuesday and then tuesday turns to an abundant of weeks. your interactions ceased to a strictly professional, work-based relationship. jeongguk talks to you only when he needs clarifying where his own secretary can’t give him an answer.

you go to him when his secretary is doing a job that requires her to go mia for the day. wendy and irene are well aware of the sudden shift in your dynamics but if you’d gladly told them jeongguk was your ex-boyfriend then you gladly told them what you told jeongguk that night.

your only regret was taking away their own friendship with jeongguk. none of them went out for dinner with him because they were torn between their loyalty to their colleague-turned-friend and the boss whom they were halfway to befriending if not for your complicating the whole thing up.

“but you decided to keep your peace instead of the peace around you and i’m proud of you for choosing yourself first,” jimin had told you as he traced patterns on the dip of your back.

and you might or might not have cried and fell asleep in his arms that night before cancelling your appointment with your therapist with the next day and choosing to have it at the end of the month like you were supposed to. ever since then, your relationship hadn’t been all that physical.

“i think i need time for myself,” you’d told him in the middle of getting stuck in traffic with unmoving cars on either side of you, “but i also still want to see you.”

jimin who’d been staring out of the window mindlessly had turned to you - instead of asking you to repeat what you’d said because he barely caught it, he’d fixed you the warmest of smiles, “it’s been over a year, ___, didn’t it ever occur to you that i wanted more than just sex from this? from us?”

if there was something park jimin was, it was arcane. mysterious - just as you thought you figured out his wants and needs, he makes a 180 and surprised you in ways you never would have seen coming.

“doesn’t it bother you that i’m... this?” there was no word for it - for being yourself but also feeling like someone entirely different all at once.

“no, it doesn’t,” he’d look straight at you as he said it, “i know you probably don’t feel like it right now, but let’s go on a walk by the han river.”

and that was where you talked about your feelings and what you could and couldn’t give while you nibble on the fish shaped bun that was wafting with heavenly scent throughout your walk until you found the stall.

jimin still wanted to pay you for the times you’ll be spending together even though there won’t be sex invloved. 

“we still have another few months of the contract, if i don’t pay you then i’d be breaching it,” he’d argued with crescent shaped eyes and the most beautiful smile.

“alright but i’m paying for dinner and lunches from now on,” and there was no changing your mind.

so it goes, you work in the day and leave with jimin for the night. he’d steal away your mac and you’d steal away his but for the most parts, you’d do work in the same room. he’d stop and stepped out only to bring you a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows and you’d pay back with chamomile tea.

then came the annual dinner which marked five months since that night. he’s decked in a stylish cut black tux with a blue sheen reflected under the light. paired with a glass flute of white wine, he’d probably already won at least three hearts only an hour into the commencement of the dinner while your teeth clamor at the low temperature of the hall.

you’re halfway ready to curse yourself for foregoing your crop blazer in jimin’s car all because you remember been too warm in it - but that was last year and the air conditioning needed fixing - when something warm engulfs your open shoulders.

“jimin,” you blink, recalling the last man talking to a board member just a moment ago before you’d stepped out.

“you should’ve told me you were cold,” he chides and only then do you notice the lack of blazer on his vest-hugged body.

stealing a glance into light poured room, you briefly stand on your tip toes, hands wrapped around the man’s arm as you pull him down to meet your halfway.

“thank you, daddy,” with that, you step away, feeling the rush of heat on your cheeks and the thrill of adrenaline in your veins.

“you’re welcome, dove,” and as soon as he goes back inside, he’s swarmed with other guests who must have wondered where the star of the night went.

and you would have turned to the cityscape if not for the glint of light trapped in glass.

“jeongguk,” your voice is strained, so you clear your throat and put on a smile to cover it up, “how long have you been there?”

a scoff follows your inquiry, “you’re not 16 and a guy giving you his jacket doesn’t mean jack shit, ___.”

at the uncalled for response, you subconsciously tug on the center front of the blazer, “first off, it’s armani, not polyester,” you say, not missing the way his eyes twitching at the comparison - he used to lend you his jackets and sweaters back when you were dating, “and whatever i do with my personal life is none of your business - i don’t have to explain myself to you.”

another scoff hits the air as he steps out of the shadow and into the sliver of light that pours from the hall and onto the veranda, “so all that talk about maintaining a professional relationship were just excuses? because you couldn’t get over the past?”

“the p -” you almost choke on your words, “the past when you cheated on me with my best friend all because i said taehyung was in the right for getting mad at you over you ruining his only chance to get into one of the best theater school in the world?”

“it’s cause of you!” the fact that his voice rose doesn’t go unnoticed even to him as he looks around and only after making sure that nobody was listening, does he continue is a hushed but harsh tone, “i slept with heather because you pushed me to her. if i wanted someone to point out the many list of things i did ‘wrong’ i could’ve just went to my parents.”

you sigh, “that’s the problem, guk-” 

“don’t call me that, you don’t get to call me that,” he shoot backs.

“jeongguk,” you rephrase, fingers fiddling with each other until you’ve hit the ten-second mark, “what we had was toxic. we needed so much work on our self-esteem and personal traumas but we turned to each other hoping the other could fix it and all we did was make it worse.”

“please, you were the one who was so insecure about heather - you think i don’t realize how you look at her? how you compare yourself to her when all she did was be your friend?” it takes everything in you not to flinch at his choice of words, “what personal trauma,” he laughs dryly.

“that’s what i’ve been working on but i’m not the only one flawed -your parents,” you say, choosing to ignore the first part of his retort, “them constantly paying more attention to your brother just because he was older and achieved a little bit more than you did. and everyone else who compared you to taehyung’s ‘legacy’. so you turn to the only girl who noticed you,” there’s a flash in his eyes, one that burns bright with anger - just like it did all those years ago.

but you pretend not to notice, “and i was so caught up with the idea of a boyfriend of my own - a guy that didn’t choose heather over me that i did everything i could to keep you. i was toxic to you because i agreed with everything you said, i put down others while i lifted you up but as soon as i tried to fix what i’d done,” you heave out a sigh, “one push - that’s all it takes for you to fall right out my arms and if that wasn’t enough i hurt you by sleeping with taehyung.”

the last thing you see is the boy the with maroon and brown jacket, staring right at you with eyes prickling with tears and face flushed pink but no words come out from his clamped mouth.

so you turn you back on him like you did five years ago. you turned your back on jeongguk and you don’t look back.

you find jimin somewhere amidst the crowd, conversing with a guest from your rival company.

“mr. park,” his eyes focus on your tight-lipped smile as soon as he sees it, you don’t even have to say another word when he excuses himself and you, not even sparing a glance at the guest before his hand finds itself on your waist, guiding you through the room and into the empty hallway since all the guests have arrived and jimin was supposed to deliver the opening speech before you took him away from it.

you barely remember the ride to his place and how he’d sat you down on his bed, kneeling right in front of you with eyes overflowing with concern.

smooth is jimin’s skin under your fingder pads when you touch his face. plump is his lips that you kiss and sweet is the taste of his mouth from the red wine you’d seen him down at the beginning of the event. the woody scent of bleu de chanel that you got him for his birthday last year is what fills your senses.

but they’re gone too soon.

“are you sure?” jimin’s eyes bore into yours, searching for something - something you can’t pinpoint.

“jimin, please, i-” and that’s all it takes for him to press his lips harder to yours, one hand groping your breast while the other pushes the weight of the jacket off your shoulders.

x

the room is silent.

save for the tapping sound of your fingers across the keyboard. that is, until another pair of hands capture them and brings them across your chest in a hug whilst you giggle at the ticklish sensation of deep violet strands brushing against your cheek, “let’s have dinner together tonight.”

at that, your mouth clamps shut, body recoiling to the side to meet a pair of almond eyes, “don’t you have dinner with chairman of samsung tonight?”

from the way jimin’s lips purse together into a pout, it seems like you hit the nail right on its head, “you quit being my secretary - you should let me lie to you and say i’m free so we can have some ‘us’ time.”

“nope,” you shake your head, breaking free from the man’s grasp before looking at him pointedly, “you’re not going to skip a meal with one of the most influential person in the world.”

“how’s the website going?” he attempts to change the topic, eyes focusing on the sequence of letters and numbers on the screen of your mac as if he understood what the codes say.

yet you humor him, “it’s going okay, though i can’t seem to figure out how to configure the servers.” 

it’s been six months since you’ve quit the job. three since you permanently moved in with jimin and one since you’ve got the paperworks done to open up your own joined business with irene. she decided to follow your footsteps to quit even though wendy was basically clinging onto her legs when she came over to pick up her belongings with a growing belly and a sort of radiance on her face.

naturally, the position for co-secretary was opened and applications were flooding in, so much so wendy had to beg you to meet with her somewhere just to review them together.

“i don’t know how to read people,” she lamented, “i do the technical stuff and you do the mind games - by the way,” something flashed in her eyes as her voice lowered into a whisper, “how did you to it?”

she meant, the explosive and tea-worthy news of how you and jimin came to be.

nobody knew about you and him until much much later. when you were free to go out to dinners and social events together with your hand on his arm and him strutting in with a never-before-seen smile. more jaws dropped that afternoon than the money raised for the event.

jeongguk is still the director of the IT department - you left to keep your peace but you’d also hope to keep his. because that’s the thing about past loves and open wounds. they hurt and they bleed with just the right words as knives but it’s how you choose to treat them that heals you.

and though your way of healing is by tearing a piece of yourself over and over again until you grow a new, steeler part that doesn’t mean you loathe the parts you’ve chosen to cut off. 

as such, you don’t hate jeongguk - you still want him to live life to his fullest potential. you still want him to thrive like a wilting flower after a rainstorm.

you just didn’t want to - can’t be part of that life.

“my father used to say, ‘if you find yourself in a dry spell of ideas’, take a break,” jimin’s voice is laced with a sort of playfulness as his eyes disappear behind crescent moons, “particularly in mauritius.”

“you did not book a plane to one of the most beautiful islands in world,” you can feel your cheeks hurting from the growing smile that creeps up your face, “did you?” 

“our flight scheduled to leave at 2 in the afternoon tomorrow,” he sweeps you up into his arms like you weight nothing at all.

“jimin!” a yelp escapes your lips in between him twirling around and the background moving too fast whilst your arms find their way to his shoulder, “you know i can’t hide a whole ass romantic getaway from my mother! what am i going to tell her when her unemployed, supposedly single daughter starts missing our daily calls because i was too busy vacaying?”

“a month,” jimin adds, head bopping against yours - you’re not quite sure when he stopped twirling, “we’re staying there for a whole month.”

“oh my god,” at first, excitement flashes across your face, then worry follows a second later, “what about your schedule? it’s gonna get pushed back - the phone calls wendy’ll have to make!”

“lisa’s in charge of the phone calls,” he means the new addition to his line of secretaries.

“doesn’t make it okay to give her all the work!” you say, not quite as passionate about someone you’ve never met as he gently lowers you, arms still banded around your waist whilst your foreheads touch.

“after we come back, i’ll make arrangements so your parents could come here - so i could meet them,” he steals a kiss from your half-open mouth.

“you’re kidding, you’re gonna meet my parents?” you echo, halfway into believing that you’re hearing things if not for the way his recently dyed hair bounces as he nods.

“i need their blessings first, don’t i?” he says, chuckling.

“after banging their daughter into the bed every single night, you’re gonna need a whole lot of those,” you pat his hair, in a ‘good luck’ kind of manner - your father isn’t the most welcoming and your mother won’t be as pleased to hear the out-of-the-ordinary ways you fell in love.

a bout of chuckles later, he’s swiping you up in his arms again as he carries you towards the familiar hallway where your shared bedroom lies while you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“but daddy, it’s still morning,” you giggle.

“didn’t stop you from begging for my dick yesterday, did it?” the corner of his lips curve into a smirk.

x

note. story time (a short post where i talk about the background of the fic eg. why i decided to write it, the overall message of the fic etc.) is already up (queued along w the fic)!

i’m aware that armani is a brand and polyester is a clothing material so it technically can’t be compared together but in a deeper sense, armani’s material is more comfortable than polyester so it works (pls make it work) ahahahahahaha

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 27 - ao3 -

Matters settled, eventually, and just as eventually, it started getting better.

At first, Lan Qiren wasn’t sure if matters were actually better, or if he’d just grown numb and accustomed, but after the past year and more he thought that there was a serious possibility of it being the former rather than the latter.

Probably the biggest difference was the birth of little Lan Huan, who’d joined the world as a fat and squalling infant that Lan Qiren had loved at first sight and sleepless night – he was still too young to be separated from his mother, or at minimum his wetnurse, but Lan Qiren made a practice of visiting every few days to try to prepare himself for caring for him. The women were generally happy to shove the baby into his arms and let him play guqin or xiao for him until he fell asleep. Apparently Lan Huan was actually a very peaceable baby, an assertion which Lan Qiren had initially doubted on account of the circles under everyone’s eyes, but when he’d said so, the wetnurse had glared at him and pronounced that saying such things meant that the next child would be a true wild terror, and probably a biter to boot.

The frequency of Lan Qiren’s visits was actually less about Lan Huan, although he liked his nephew very much, and more about trying to establish a precedent for visitation. He hoped, eventually, to be able to bring Lan Huan to see his mother on such a frequent basis, once or even twice a week, knowing as he did that He Kexin lacked the temperament for seclusion. To his regret, she’d ended up spoiling that plan not long after she’d recovered from her pregnancy, misinterpreting his frequent visits as an interest in her, and he’d been forced to cut back for a while out of sheer disgust at the mere concept. He bitterly scolded her in his mind for being seemingly incapable of seeing any other reason that he would visit so often, especially during the times that Lan Huan was already asleep, although he suspected in his heart that the real reason was simply likely a longing for a connection with the only other person she regularly saw. 

He still had hope of negotiating regular visits with his sect elders, eventually, but now he knew he’d probably be lucky if he managed to make it once every fortnight, when originally he’d hoped for twice a week.

Disturbing female disciples is prohibited, after all. Lan Qiren had a very good reputation, being widely known to be frigid as a stick of ice, using his brother’s terms, but there was only so much he could do when there was known to be an expressed interest on the other side, especially an interest of adulterous nature. And couple that with what had happened between them before…

At least she’d restrained herself to only making a verbal offer, this time.

Lan Qiren did not know how to explain to He Kexin in a way that she would understand that although he visited her regularly as a matter of duty, and although he was the only person other than his brother with whom she regularly conversed, he did not enjoy his time with her – that he blamed her in part for the destruction of his dreams, the shattering of his heart in a way that would likely never heal, even though he did not blame her for his brother’s obsession with her. It was not her fault that his brother had fallen in love with her, or that he had taken such extreme measures for her, and yet…

“She’s still a bitch,” Cangse Sanren announced, and her new husband smothered a snicker in his sleeve. “What? She is.”

Lan Qiren sighed, and Wei Changze, smiling, made an excuse to depart and let them talk between themselves. He was a good man, with an irrepressible sense of humor that regularly made Cangse Sanren laugh without any shame at all, howling and hooting like a monkey. He had courted her assiduously even after she’d departed the Lotus Pier, headed off to complete her education regarding the mortal world in the various Great Sects, and yet had been oblivious to the fact that she treated their liaison as a serious one – perhaps he had only truly believed that she would give herself to him when they actually married, their interminably long courtship finally ending the way any blind man would have guessed it would from the very beginning.

“I asked you to come here so that you could meet A-Huan,” Lan Qiren said. “Not to relitigate the matter of He Kexin, who at any rate is already suffering the punishment for her unwise actions.”

“Unwise is an understatement. She killed a man! On no basis, and without even a formal challenge! If she’d just kept her sword in her sheath and not jumped ahead three steps –”

“I’m aware.”

Cangse Sanren made a rude noise, but settled back, grumbling. “The baby’s cute, though,” she added begrudgingly. “Looks like you.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you, he is my nephew. To the extent you can identify any traits whatsoever in a roly-poly puppy like A-Huan, they’re family features.”

“Of which you’re the finest representative!”

Lan Qiren gave her a look, and she grinned unrepentantly at him. “Heartbreaker,” she teased, but a moment later her smile faded. “Have you spoken with your brother?”

Lan Qiren’s gaze dropped to the table. “There’s no need,” he said. “He has always been torn between pride in his capability and the admiration of others on one hand, and a yearning to retreat from the world and its annoyances in order to focus fully on his cultivation on the other. Other than occasionally meeting with his wife, he is now able to wholly focus on the latter, and unlike He Kexin, his temperament is suited to the strictness of our seclusion practices.”

“There might not be a need,” Cangse Sanren agreed. “Did you speak with him anyway?”

“Once,” Lan Qiren said, voice short. After a few long moments, he added, a little painfully: “He said that our father had always seen seclusion as a means to reunite with his wife.”

Cangse Sanren hissed in a manner not unlike a very angry cat, or possibly an agitated snake, her eyes very nearly turning red from rage: naturally she knew about the whole awful background, the many years of age between Lan Qiren and his brother and the way his brother had always blamed Lan Qiren’s belated birth for the death of their mother, and by extension the shattering of their father’s heart when she left him behind, gone too early.

Lan Qiren’s brother had also said other things, mad things, things that Lan Qiren sought to forget as soon as he’d heard them but which he knew would likely haunt him in the dark of sleepless nights for the rest of his life. The worst of it was that Lan Qiren still loved his brother, who he’d idolized for so long: his brother who was the perfect gentleman when he wanted to be, capable of being kind and charming and generous, of excellent cultivation and who excelled in each talent, who was thoughtful and reserved and in his own way a very good sect leader – the Qingheng-jun that the rest of the world had seen, the one that Lao Nie had befriended, the one so much of his sect had pinned their hopes on.

Lan Qiren felt, as always, like an inferior substitute.

No one had made his brother fall in love, nor to take such terrible actions to protect his love from her own foolishness, and yet, if Lan Qiren could have found another way out that the sect would have accepted, he would have. It would have been better, in his view, to lash them both with the discipline whip until they lacked flesh if it meant that they would stay free. A human could live with pain, but he wasn’t so sure they could do without freedom or hope…

Aren’t you just the same as me, his brother had sneered at him through the door that would part them for the rest of their lives, lashing out like a rabid dog that sought to hurt others in order to ease its own hurt, or else would you snap yourself into a thousand pieces begging for a scrap of my approval, which you will never receive, or whoring your vaunted righteousness out for a smile from your ‘sworn brother’?

Lan Qiren hadn’t done that, and wouldn’t. Unbelievable as it seemed, his stubbornness had stood up against Wen Ruohan’s and won; it had been Wen Ruohan who had changed to match him, rather than the other way around. He had vowed that the Fire Palace remained useless, and Lan Qiren believed him, especially when even Lao Nie confirmed it to be true. They had taken to exchanging letters this past year, since Lan Qiren could not visit the Nightless City until he had stabilized the Cloud Recesses and – sworn brotherhood or no – a visit by Wen Ruohan to the Cloud Recesses would be taken as a formal exchange, sect leader visiting sect leader.

Perhaps now, after a year, when he had more fully settled into his role…

“Did the trash say anything else?”

For a moment Lan Qiren was unsure whether Cangse Sanren had somehow managed to follow his thoughts and was now referring to Wen Ruohan, against whom she still bore something of a grudge, but then he realized that she meant his brother.

“Anything of value, anyway,” she huffed, tossing her hair and baring her teeth in the way she used to do before she realized that human beings didn’t use threat displays in that manner.

“He picked a courtesy name for A-Huan,” Lan Qiren said. “As is his right, of course.”

That had been Lan Qiren’s true motive in going to see his brother, in fact. He had refused to go see his brother for months, even if etiquette suggested he should go to pay his respects; it was only after A-Huan was born that he had finally yielded. It was only upon seeing the round and innocent face of little A-Huan starting to smile that he felt compelled to bend his stubborn back and compromise himself to reach out – there was very little, he found, that he wouldn’t do for his little nephew, who had no one else in the world.

His brother had been largely disinterested, though, even when Lan Qiren had inappropriately brought the child over for him to see – it had been too early for propriety, before the first month ceremony which marked the moment when the child could be exhibited more broadly, but Lan Qiren’s heart had hurt at the idea of his brother not seeing his son before the rest of the world had had a chance. It was not a large distance between the seclusion house his brother had chosen for himself, the same one that their father had planned to use before his suicide, and the house set aside for He Kexin, which Lan Qiren had taken to privately calling the Gentian House on account of the flowers that crowded around it. 

Everyone had turned a blind eye to Lan Qiren’s little excursion – but his brother hadn’t cared.

It was He Kexin that he loved, that he was mad for, and in his selfishness he could not see extending that love to anyone beyond her. Lan Qiren was resolved to teach A-Huan to do better, to think of others first, to care for other people and think not only of them but of the people beyond them, just as he looked at He Kexin and thought to teach him to make his own judgments of people, to listen to their side of the story and analyze it carefully based on what he knew.

He could only hope that it would help.

When his brother had told him to leave, that he didn’t care to see the child, Lan Qiren had left, returning Lan Huan to his mother’s care, and returned himself to his brother’s door, boiling over with rage, to give him a piece of his mind. 

It had backfired on him, of course. He would have been better off not going back at all – the rules said Do not succumb to rage, and they were right. All he had managed to obtain was a sore throat from all the yelling and a fresh set of nightmares.

And a name.

At least he had gotten Lan Huan a name bestowed upon him by his father, as he deserved.

“He selected ‘Xichen’,” Lan Qiren said, drawing out the characters and passing it over for Cangse Sanren to see. “It’s a good name.”

“Lan Xichen,” Cangse Sanren said, sounding it out and thinking over the meaning of the characters. “Yes, that’s a good name. Full of ambition and well-wishes…I bet the rotten trash-heap sees A-Huan as another incarnation of himself.”

Lan Qiren didn’t exactly disagree. Still, it would be rude to say so; he coughed and shook his head. “What about you?” he asked instead. “Are you and Wei Changze planning on giving A-Huan a playmate?”

And himself a student, in a dozen years or so. He’d started accepting students from rogue cultivators and other sects, just the way he’d planned; it was still in the early stages. He was still writing to small sects with fewer resources and offering to take their problem children because he knew that that was all they’d be willing to send to him, an outsider – there had always been lectures offered by the Great Sects, but they were one-off things, often accompaniments to discussion conferences or else excuses for the sects’ adults to gather and socialize while the children learned a few days’ worth of material. Taking another sect’s child for a full season, the way he planned to, was a much bigger ask. Much less to teach them his Lan sect rules, which weren’t even seen as applicable by the rest of the world…

Still, Lan Qiren had hope that eventually he would be able to demonstrate his merit; if his teaching worked with this first set of children, he hoped that it would work in the future for more of them. He hoped he’d be able to help them learn something, but even if he didn’t, they would at least have the experience of traveling – of visiting another place all on their own – so that if something happened in their lives to rob them of their freedom, they would at least have that much to remember. And in return, he would have them, his students, the feathers to brighten and color his dull nest and let him experience a little of what the world was still available to him.

Cangse Sanren laughed. “Not for a few years yet,” she said, eyes dancing. “You’re still safe! We want to have some time for ourselves, first – we’re going to travel around as rogue cultivators. I’ll write to you from every city, and send you things!”

Lan Qiren smiled.

“But only,” she said primly, “only if you promise me you’re not actually going to go through with growing that awful beard of yours again –”

“I’m a teacher now. I’m entitled!”

“You’re too young! You have to wait until you’re at least thirty for a beard.”

“By what rule?”

“My rule! Also my aesthetics; you’re so pretty –”

“I explained to you my reasoning already,” Lan Qiren complained. “What do you have against it, other than an aesthetic preference which is completely irrelevant to me?”

“I’m a rogue cultivator from Baoshan Sanren’s immortal mountain,” she proclaimed. “I seek to improve the world wherever it may be, fight evil and promote good, and keeping you clean-shaven is such a clear and vast improvement to the beauty of the world that it must be fiercely fought for –”

“Cangse Sanren!”

She burst out laughing. “How about this?” she giggled. “You can grow it after you’re thirty, or else whenever I’m not here, so that you can have it when you’re teaching your classes.”

“Thank you for your generous permission,” he drawled.

“No, no, it’ll be good!” she beamed at him. “That means that when I’m gone for good, you’ll have something to remember me by.”

Lan Qiren’s smile disappeared. “Cangse Sanren –”

“I told you long ago that I was doomed,” she reminded him. “Anyway, I’ve kept a low profile, haven’t I? I’m not dead yet, and you never know what might happen. And anyway, like I always said, a short life in exchange for a good life is a bargain I’m willing to strike…anyway, enough about me. Tell me about your children! The students, I mean; are they really all terrible bear children, without a single good trait between them?”

“They’re fine,” Lan Qiren said, distracted by what was quickly proving to be a new favorite subject. “I don’t know what everyone complains about with them. So what if they’re mischievous at first? In the end they all learn, you just have to give them attention and figure out what it is that they like, what will work to give them a basis to use in the future…”

“Surely some of them have to be disasters.”

“Don’t worry, I’m certain that your future child will be a fiend in human flesh born for the sole purpose of wreaking havoc on the serenity of my classroom,” Lan Qiren said dryly. “To be matched only by the inevitable offspring of Lan Yueheng and Zhang Xin, should they ever choose to put aside their furnaces and chemicals long enough to have them.”

Cangse Sanren giggled. “Just you wait,” she warned. “They’ll have a whole host of children, just like the common folk do; none of this two-and-done that you noble scions of the Lan sect prefer. They’ll have an entire horde for the next generation, and just when you think that you’re finally done with them, they’ll have an ‘accident’ twenty years too late, a child of their old age, and you’ll have to teach them alongside children young enough to be A-Huan’s heirs…”

“Why must you curse me?” Lan Qiren complained. “What have I ever done to you?”

It had been a good visit.

Yes, Lan Qiren thought, he was starting to adjust, little by little. The life he had now was not what he wanted, not what he’d dreamed of, but he could live with it – he had to, of course, but he thought that he also could. He would play for his nephew instead of a nameless crowd in a distant city, he would teach students a generation too early, he would only leave the Cloud Recesses on short excursions – night-hunting, or discussion conferences, or visits to his friends, to play with little A-Jue over in the Unclean Realm or the slightly older A-Xu in the Nightless City, whose would-be sibling had not made it despite Wen Ruohan’s concubine’s best effort. Wen Ruohan had written in his letter that he had promised her another as compensation, but only in a few years, once her body had fully recovered and A-Xu was old enough that another child wouldn’t be seen as a threat, which seemed fair to Lan Qiren.

He would live.

He might even enjoy it.

He only wondered a little, about Wen Ruohan – his sworn brother had, he thought, expressed some mangled version of feelings towards him, feelings that well exceeded the ordinary course for sworn brothers and which he thought he had made clear were not unwelcome, but amidst the hubbub that had later ensued Wen Ruohan had not spoken of it again. Lan Qiren could understand that he had been distracted, first by Lao Nie’s marriage – now ended, according to Lao Nie, who seemed as unperturbed by his announcement that his wife had disappeared permanently and would likely never be returning as he had by anything else about this mysterious woman that Lan Qiren had never had the chance to meet and now never would – and then by Lan Qiren’s brother’s situation. 

And yet, he would have thought that there would be something…

Wen Ruohan has lived for generations, he reminded himself. He is an ancient monster of the old sort, unmatched by any other living being, excepting only perhaps those that long ago retreated into seclusion or the mountains. Waiting a year or even a few is for him little more than a brief pause. He may yet reach out again – and, of course, you could do the reaching out yourself, if you weren’t such a coward.

It wasn’t cowardice that stopped him, of course, no matter what names he called himself. It was uncertainty, and also, in his own way, a form of care – it was the Lan sect’s curse to love too strongly, to prioritize their hearts above all common sense. Lan Qiren did not want to burden Wen Ruohan with an offer that would not satisfy him, to hang around his neck an obligation of unwanted feelings the way his brother had done to He Kexin.

Lan Qiren could not see a way in which he could offer Wen Ruohan his heart and not his body, yet he knew himself well enough to know that he would be unhappy if he tried to offer both. He could exert himself if he really had to, force himself to go through the motions that seemed so dull and unpleasant, all squelching amidst bodily fluids and inelegant grunting and none of the attraction that other people had to compensate for it. But he couldn’t do so sincerely, and he wouldn’t be able to do it for very long without developing resentment at being forced to endure such a task routinely – and it did seem that regular people wanted it all the time.

Such a feeling, if ignored, would breed disorder between them, poisoning their hearts…no, Lan Qiren could not make the first move, to take the step that would breach the paper between them, change them from their current status as brothers and nothing more. 

He had made his position clear.

The only question was – what would Wen Ruohan do about it?

[mxvladdy]

Ey, could you make food source reactions for Mammon & Levi like you did with the others?

I've read it like 3 times now, they're all so sweet and believable you did a great job!

You got it Fam! Glad you like them so much lol. (I got a lot more angsty with Mammon than I thought I would but I love him sooooo)

Mammon

This poor man. He gets to spend so little time alone with you. He has to make every second count. Between the hustling, modeling, and running from Lucifer, he’s a pretty busy guy. 

So he plans date nights. Just you, him, and his leather couch. Ya ain’t goin’ nowhere, ya hear? He looks forward to this every month. He pins it on his calendar too just so he doesn’t double book himself. 

Now, don’t get me wrong. Just cause he plans this doesn’t mean he necessarily has a plan. Not that you care. Most of his activities turn into trouble anyway, even when he is not trying.  

 Sometimes he teaches you how to play cards (also shows you human ways to cheat-just in case you need it). The hours are spent pleasantly sitting in his lap while he teaches you how to count cards.

But, most nights, he just wants to talk. He enjoys his time with you. You and him cuddling and chatting away the hours before passing out for the night. 

He has a lot of things he wants to know about you. To him, he feels like if he knows you better than the other brothers he’s won. 

Won what? Idk, your affection? Approval? He already has it, but he is insecure about his place in your heart regardless. 

This evening starts out like any other. Mammon dashing to the kitchens to pilfer some snacks and drinks before Beel can steal them all, and you bring your cute self over to his room. 

You two toss back a few drinks and spend some time looking over his latest photo shoots before going on to the main event. Tonight you brought one of your favorite human card games. It was like 20 questions, but some questions were more risque than others. Was it meant for more than two players? Yes, but whatever- Mammon wants to play it so you are.

You both are relaxed and drowsy by the time you start playing. Your stomachs are full of junk, and the morning moons are just on the horizon. It’s the perfect mixture for loose lips and secrets, before falling asleep in each other's arms. 

You pick easy cards first, jumping from silly innocent questions to one that made him blush from ear to ear. The hours pass quickly and Mammon’s answers become more slurred and accented as he tires out. 

He was on the verge of sleep when you ask,  “What’s your favorite dish?” 

It was a slip of the tongue, a long-lost memory pulled up from the dregs of his exhausted mind. He remembers a savory dish Barbatos use to make way back when. He can still smell the savory smoky spices mixing with the fresh vegetables and meat- Oh shit.

He feels you stiffen and he ain’t sleepy anymore, that’s for sure. Immediately up and apologizes. He stumbles over himself in his haste to explain himself. 

You spend the rest of the evening with him in your arms trying to comfort him as he tearfully swears he hasn’t eaten a person in a couple of hundred years. 

Mini Fic

He regrets it the moment the words slip out. His sleepy remark hangs out in the chilly air of his room. He feels you jerk in his arms as if punched. “Shit! I-I didn’t mean.” Mouth agape, he backtracks, tongue working faster than his overtaxed brain. He looks down at your head on his chest. 

Your eyes are wide. Their surprise reflected in the bright blue moonlight. His heart sinks to his stomach. Gods, he ruined it. “I’m sorry- I.”  Pushing you off of his chest he goes to grab his shirt and redress, ignoring the prickling heat growing at the corner of his eyes. He could sleep somewhere else tonight. You could have the room if you wanted, or at least give you a minute to flee in terror from the demon that masqueraded as your friend. He can’t look at you. Hells, he was too ashamed to even glance in your direction. What kind of idiot let’s slip that? They even had a council meeting about this very thing before you arrived. 

So lost in his panic he doesn’t notice you trying to get his attention. It wasn’t until you forcefully grab his arm did he hear you. “It’s ok Mammon.” You engulf him in your warm and comforting scent. Strong arms dragging him back to the crumpled sheets of his bed. Your soft fingers wipe at the silent tears streaking down his cheeks. 

He dislodges himself from your light grasp to rub at his own eyes. “How can ya’ say that?” Where was your sense of self-preservation? Ain’t humans supposed to be aware of such dangers? The irony wasn’t lost on him though. Being your ‘protector’ and all.

You shuffle closer, hellbent on comforting. His pack mark hums gently on his chest when you touch it. As much as his body wanted to run, your pact mark cemented him to his seat. He sits while you fuss over him slowly breathing through his mouth to calm his racing heart. He can’t help but drift closer to you when he feels your hand on the top of his head. When had he become so weak for you? 

“Well-How can I not?” You shrug. He closes his eyes when you start ruffling his fringe. “You’ve been nothing but sweet to me. Yes, you have,” You cut him off firmly before he can object. “Always my number one anyway.” That pulls a wet chuckle from your demon. His eyes clear up at your admission. “I trust you Mammon, honestly. I mean, I kinda knew that you’ve probably eaten a human or two in your life. Knowing, and knowing are more different than I thought.” 

 Mammon cages you in his arms, his nose brushing along your neck and jawline. “Damn-.” He huffs covering you in his warm body, arms tight around your sides. “I’m sorry. I ruined tonight.” Mammon sighs into your skin. 

You hug him back. “Nonsense, if you want to get technical I think you won this game. I can’t top that answer.” You push away with a wide yawn. “Now can we go back to bed?” With a nod, he flops over pulling you down with him. You bully your way into his arms again. Sighing constantly you snuggle in for the night, ready to drift off. His eyelids began to feel heavy again too. Your soft weight on him like a security blanket. He listens to your slowly beating heart, matching his breathing to yours. The rhythmic thumps working to calm him better than his noise machine. He basks in your presence, rubbing his broad hand down your back for a moment before you speak again.

“Hey, Mammon.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Do you think I would taste good?” 

Leviathan 

Awkward boy. Of course, he has had his fair share of humans. Not particularly his favorite through. A lot of the time it wasn’t on purpose. His demon form is big and sometimes more than just fish and other demons get swallowed up. Course when that happened, they weren’t exactly fresh either. Bleh-just thinking about it makes his stomach turn. 

No, he never got a taste for it, even when it was served in the royal palace. The memories of the sea are still pretty vivid. It never really crosses his mind anymore. Till you bring it up.

He invites you over for a game night. A new VR game he had been saving up for just dropped and he had to play it with you.

It was a horror stealth game. Heavy on critical thinking and solving puzzles in real-time.

Your two characters were on a race against time against a flesh eating cult that had invaded a small village. He thought it was a fun concept and you both liked horror games. He didn’t notice how quiet you had gotten until you had set your controller down. 

You ask during a loading screen after a pretty graphic cut scene of a npc getting caught. How realistic was that cut scene? Had he ever eaten a human before?

Boy is a brighter pink than Ruri-chan’s signature outfit (and twice as cute lbr) 

He gets so flustered that he misses the start of the next round and gets you both eaten. 

He doesn’t take conflict well. Like at all. He much rather slink off into his fish tank and hide than answer you. In fact, that sounds like an excellent idea.  

He slithers back out of his tank hours later thinking you had left or found a better brother to hang out with. Yucky people eaters like him aren’t good company for humans. 

You jump him the minute his feet are back on solid ground. Have an answer now you must! Yrssss. 

Mini Fic

“L-Let go!” Levi shrieks, caught in your sneak attack. He locks up when you jump him, all four of your limbs wrapping around his soaking body like an octopus. 

“No!” You squeeze him harder taking full advantage of the fact that he won’t remove you himself. You feel the heat of his blush through his soaked clothes as you cling closer. If he could blush any harder you were pretty sure steam would be wafting off of him. 

“Why do you want to know anyway?” He wiggles gently, trying to loosen your tight grip. 

“Morbid curiosity.” Well, at least you were honest. He was still going to say no, you didn’t need to know that about him. He opens his mouth to shut you down but makes the mistake of looking at you. The words die when he catches the pout growing on your face. Oh no- his one weakness. Your way your lower lip pops out adorably, accompanied by slightly puffed-out cheeks. It was a one-two punch to his defenses. 

“I-they weren’t on purpose.” He pleads. Nevermore in his life did he wish he could turn into a mist-like his brother. He feels you slip off of him. Your bare feet don’t make a sound on his carpeted floor. “It just happened sometimes.” He admits. You accept it for a few seconds before his words fully hit you.

“Wait? How do you accidentally eat someone?” You ask incredulously. “All though- that’s something Beel might do.” You ponder the logistics and step back to give him some space.

He rights himself, wicking the moisture from his coat and pants with magic until he is completely dry again. You start asking a dozen more questions in rapid fire. It was enough to make his head spin. You were too curious for your own good. “Ever heard of basking whales?”  

You blink. 

Levi sighs and waves a hand to himself.  “When I lived in the ocean… I’m big ya know. I kinda would just open my mouth and swallow. Whatever I caught I ate.” He waits for you to get the jest. Most of the time it was smaller fish and aquatic mammals. When a demon encroached on his territory he would eat them too. The dead were meant for his army, but sometimes they got sucked into.

Instead of nodding in understatement, you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand and snort. His eyes grow big and his blush turns brighter. You were spending way too much time with Asmo. “No-Not like that!” His flailing only makes you laugh harder. Great, as if he didn’t want to die of embarrassment already.

“Well word it better, nerd.” You laugh retreating back to the mound of pillows you claimed for gaming, VR headset in hand. “Come on, we have to start over now- thanks to someone.”

“You started it!” Levi shoots back grabbing up his gear as well. He fiddles with it for a moment before glancing back at you. You were oblivious to inner turmoil over this admission. A naval admiral was one thing. Humans had them too, that wasn’t too much for you to comprehend. Being a devil was easy enough to understand too, at least in his mind. But eating people? Shouldn’t you be more concerned? “So-that’s it?”

You look up questioningly. “What’s it?” 

He raises a purple brow. “You have nothing else to say? I just admitted to eating people!” 

“Not really.” You shrug. “I can’t get too pressed about it. It’s not like you are human. I’m like what-at the bottom of the food chain to you, right?” Levi nods. “See! So no point stressing over it. ‘Sides, you haven’t munched on me yet.” You turn your attention back to the screen, flicking your controller to wake his flat-screen back up. “Unless~” He gulps at the sly eyebrow wiggle you throw at him, the shit eating grin that accompanied it only made him worry.  “Perhaps you just have an appetite for seamen.” 

Your peals of laughter mix with his shrill yelps of objection, as he tackles you. His previous worries were completely forgotten by your teasing. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #444

“the monster you made is wearing the crown  /  i’ll be the king, and you’ll be the clown”

Do you take off from school, or work for your birthday? Ha, I used to try to talk Mom into letting me stay home from school... It only sometimes worked. Have you ever created ‘open when’ letters for someone? No. That'd be cute for an s/o, though. What is the best thing about being in the relationship you’re in right now or about being single? Not having to fear my partner leaving because of the struggles I'm going through. Not having to worry about not being enough for another person, because I'm not even enough for myself. Do you have a favourite painting? Not by a historical artist, no, but there is a piece by a deviantART artist called "Denialism" (by NukeRooster/Tatchit, if you're interested) that I adore so much I've actually gotten her permission to get it tattooed one day when I can afford a brilliant artist to do it. What are some of the best life hacks you know? /shrug What makes you smile without fail? MARK LAUGHING laj;sdkafjwlk;erj Do you know what you’ll be getting your loved ones for the holidays this winter? No clue. That's still a whiles off. What is your biggest short-term goal (within the next month)? Just lose a decent amount of weight for a month's time. What will your next tattoo be of? It depends on what cash I have available, really. As much as it sucks, I think my next tat is a whiles off because I just have more pressing things to pay for. Has anyone very close to you ever died? Besides pets, the closest human to me that's ever died was Jason's mom. If you were throwing your significant other/best friend a themed party, what would the theme be? Uh, Frieza-related, obviously. Do you feel prepared for the apocalypse? I don't believe in the apocalypse in the biblical sense of it being determined by an ultimate power, so this isn't something I really think about. Whenever humanity ends, it ends. I don't have a say, so I may as well not obsess over it. Do you think you will have children naturally, adopt, or forgo having children altogether? I'm not having kids, but if I did, I know that either I'd have to give birth to them or my hypothetical wife would for me to feel *properly* connected to them as a mother should. Oh, or if my male partner had a kid from a previous relationship, but I'd have to be REALLY in love with him to feel like that child is also my own. Do you take pictures of yourself on a daily basis? Oh god no. Do you believe in angels? No, but rather just spirits. Is there anything in your past that you used to regret, but now you don’t? Hm, maybe? Does your knee hurt? My knees always hurt. Has anyone ever called you sexy? Yes. Do you like raisins? omg nooooo What is your favorite bug? Butterflies! :') Do you like Scrabble? Sure, it's fun for a board game. Do you have a printer? Yes. What is your favorite food? Cheeseburgers or pizza, probably. I know, so American. Have you ever overheard a conversation you weren’t supposed to? Yes. Do you like ants? They are very fascinating when you really think about it, but I still find them incredibly annoying. Did you like the movie Antz? I loved it as a kid. Have you ever drank goat milk? No, I don't believe so. What’s your favorite video game? Silent Hill 2 and Shadow of the Colossus. Do you like cats? I love kitties!!! :') Are goldfish your favorite fish? No. I think my favorite is probably the lionfish. Do you like vanilla pudding? No. I only like chocolate pudding. What is your opinion on gay marriage? I 100% support it and would fight to the death for it. What is your opinion on gay adoption? Don't even fucking look at me if you see a problem with a parentless child finding a home with two people in love. Who was the last person you had a crush on? Sara. What’s the most expensive piece of clothing you own? I have zero clue. Why do you drive the car you have right now? I don't have my own car. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Omg yes and it sucks. Are you friends with your neighbors? No. What is your current desktop picture? One of my favorite pictures of my late pup, Teddy. What’s the coolest thing you’ve seen out the window of an airplane? Mountains! Does your neighbor have any pets? *shrug* Have you ever swam in a mountain lake? No, but that sounds VIBIN'. Has a cat/dog ever thrown up on your bed? alksdjflk;a;jdfalwe yes Have you ever had a concussion? One or two. Do you know anyone who has a pet gecko? Not currently, I think? I want a fat-tailed gecko, though. :( Would you ever go bear hunting? I wouldn't dare hunt ANY animal. Have you ever seen two movies at the theater in a row? I have not. How many teenagers do you know who have babies? I know no teen personally that has a child, but there were some pregnant students in high school. If you could keep your parents or trade them for other parents, which would you pick? I would NEVER change my parents. Is there a piggy bank in the room you’re in? It's not a "piggy" bank, per se, but my sister got me a skull one that she says is for my tattoo funds. :') How many sets of twins do you know? Two, off the very top of my head. If you have younger siblings, are you very protective of them? Yes. No one fucks with her for as long as I live. If you have older siblings, are they very protective of you? Not especially. Who is your favorite Disney Channel person? Uhhh, maybe Raven Symone? How many pets do you have? Just two. Do you think you will be successful in life? No. :/ What do you have pierced? My earlobes, twice, and my bottom lip. I have been dyinnnnggg for some new ones lately. :/ Does techno annoy you as much as it annoys me? No, I actually enjoy quite a bit of techno. What’s your comfort food? Ice cream. Do you like paranormal stuff? YES. Do you have a favorite stuffed toy? Rebel, my adorable meerkat plush from Jason, and Brownie, my moose from Cabela's. What’s the most exciting project you were given? In a way, my senior project since you got to choose your own topic, but I dreaded the presentation. Do you have a good sense of direction? Not at ALL. What are your favorite colour for a cat? Orange! If you had to live your life carrying a shield, what would its design be? This is gonna sound super, super cheesy, but probably a heart to symbolize how love should and could block the effects of hate and general evil and that we should pursue that instead of violence. Out of all the cancers, which one do you think needs to find a cure first? Oh god, they all do. If I had to pick one though, it'd be one of the inevitably fatal kinds, like pancreatic. What are your general afterthoughts when you’ve finished a book? I feel accomplished for actually reading to a story's completion. How many pairs of glasses (not sunglasses) have you owned? Two, I think? What color is your flash-drive? Hot pink. Have you ever built a sand castle? Yeah. How many houses have you lived in? Six. One I have no memory of. Do you shut off the water while you brush your teeth? Yes. What video game should everybody play at least once? Amnesia: A Machine for PIgs for the symbolism. It blows my mind how most horror fans hate it; it's like they totally miss the point. 100 years from now, what modern things will people look back on and say, “WTF?” Hopefully things like homophobia, racism, misogyny, concepts like those. What is impossible to understand until it happens to you? Mental illness, to name only one thing. What fictional food item from a television show, cartoon, movie, or video game have you always wanted to try? Hm. There's a lot that has looked super good, really. What’s something that gets much more hate than it deserves? Nickelback, lmao. What phrases or sayings drive you crazy? "Everything happens for a reason," "it could be worse/some people have it worse," "it's all part of God's plan," "just think positive"... a lot of stuff. Do you have a deviantART? I do, even though Eclipse made it fucking suck. I only really stay because I cling to the dying hope of being at least somewhat successful on there, and I enjoy keeping tabs on the artwork of the hundreds of people I watch there. Who is your favorite character in your favorite movie? Mufasa, even if he doesn't last long in the movie. :''''''( Have you ever been to Germany? No, but I'd love to! What is your favorite holiday? Christmas. Have you ever been ice skating? No. The blades on the skates scare me. Have you ever taken a karate class? No. Do you have any nieces or nephews? I have a lot, if you include my half-siblings' kids. Do you own an Xbox? Nah, I've always been a PlayStation gal. Would you date someone who’s well-known for cheating? Nope. Would you break up with someone your parents didn’t approve of? No. I'd consider their reasons, but ultimately, it's about me loving the person. Could you be in a relationship without sex? Yeah, sure. It's not ideal, but I mean if the other person is just very opposed, I'm certainly not forcing them. Emotional intimacy is more important to me, anyway. Have you ever been “friendzoned”? Yep. :') Briefly, anyway. Jason tried for my sake, but it was VERY short-lived by no one's fault but my own because all I know how to do is fuck shit up when it comes to him. Which “famous couple” is your favorite? LOOK Mark and Amy are FUCKIN GEMS Have you ever “destroyed” a relationship? Pretty fucking much. Are you the “dominant” or the “submissive” part in a relationship? I'm submissive by nature. Do you think Valentine’s Day is overrated? No, I think it's a cute holiday. Which do you feel is worse of the two to smoke: weed or tobacco? Well, weed has more carcinogens, but at least it has actual health benefits. Who did you last see that you haven’t seen in ages? *shrug* Are you photogenic at all? God no.

[kisskissbanggang]

The Sabotage of Simkung House - Part 1

[Stray Kids Multi Fic - 5K Words/20Min. Read - Lee Know x Female Reader - Non-Idol!au, Variety!au - NSFW/Smut, Plot - Reverse Harems, Variety Shows, Secret Hook-Ups]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Feedback

This was your weirdest casting call yet. The assistant was taking the longest time looking back and forth from your headshot to your CV, and it was making you anxious. You could be doing better things on a Thursday night than get scrutinized more than usual. Finally, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of near silence on your end, the assistant motioned for the casting director to come over. This new person looked from the CV, to the headshot, to you, in a repeated loop until they ultimately asked you to stand up, turn in a circle, and walk around the room. You felt like a show dog, but relief finally came as the casting director motioned for you to follow, not leave. Was this your weirdest casting call ever? Probably. Would you pass up an opportunity to sign? Of course not. 

Yet another eager assistant trotted up to intercept you as casting led you down the hall.  “I got this,” he explained, politely shooing away the casting director and redirecting you into a new office. 

“Hi,” he greeted as he sat you in a chair, “so we’re glad you're here. I’m Felix,” he introduced himself, offering you a hand to shake before he sat you in a chair in front of the big desk in the room. He remained standing as he animatedly explained himself. “I’m the assistant for our executive producer. We know this has been a little unorthodox.”

“That's fine! I know some AV producers have really high standards,” you shrugged with a polite smile. You hadn't been shooting adult videos long, but in the time since you started you’d definitely had some weird auditions. None as weird as this, still, but weird nonetheless. 

“Right,” Felix nodded, “we were impressed with your materials. I'm already familiar with your work--” he blurted out before cranking back, biting into his lip as he blushed. You modestly nodded for him to continue. “--but I never realized you had such credentials otherwise. You have a very nice acting resume.”

“I've never needed both before,” you explained apologetically, “so I just left everything on there.”

“No no! It’s better than I could've dreamed of. I had no clue you went to school. And you’re bilingual? I thought I recalled you using English once or twice in streams, but I never realized--” Felix paused again, realizing his continued admission. You nodded for him to get going once again. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you kindly encouraged, “I’m glad you’re familiar with my work.”

“I am,” he eagerly nodded as he pulled some materials out from a folder sitting on the desk , “And we want you. So can I explain?” He waited for your approval once more before he launched in. We’re casting a new variety show. It’s called Noesengnam House.” The first piece of material he slid across the desk was a logo: a cheesy, bubbly text in front of a silhouette of a chiseled man with a graduation cap on. You raised an eyebrow. However, being enthusiastic was key to landing any gig, so despite any doubts you put on a smile. 

“Alright. So we’re focusing on smart, sexy guys?”

“We’re making smart, sexy guys,” Felix clarifies, and he’s so proud as he passes five headshots across the desk. You’ve always been puzzled by these overenthusiastic assistants, like they have a stake in every good idea so they have to be good. “This is like charm school, but for guys. The catch is they have to get equal marks in all their subjects by the end of the season in order for all of them to win their prizes.”

You got the smallest bit distracted looking over the faces of these five men, wondering how charm school worked as a concept with porn actors. “So the subjects are…?”

“What,” Felix suddenly halted, “not interested in the prizes?”

“I assume it’s money,” you flippantly shrugged, “so what are they supposed to be getting high marks in? I assume I'm working with them, so I'm interested in what they’re doing.”

It was Felix’s turn to shrug. Somehow, he apparently hadn’t predicted this. “The usual: manners, fitness, home economics, academics. They’re all secretly cast to have a specialty, so they have to work together to figure out each other's strengths and weaknesses.”

You finally held up your hands to formally stop him. “I'm sorry,” you politely apologized, “but I think I'm missing something. Where do I fit in?”

“Ah, that's the fun part. We cast them for variety, not for adult content. This will be their first venture.”

“For all of them?” You dubiously marveled, starkly curious how this would affect their performances. Almost no one was ever proud of their first time for more than sentimental reasons. 

“Yes, all of them,” Felix proudly nodded, “in our counterpart series, Simkung House.” He slid a new logo across the desk, the first crossed out and a bubbly pink text replacing it, with the silhouette of a -- no, really -- french maid tickling her duster under the chin of the man in the original design. The cartoon male even had blush added. You raised a sharp eyebrow at Felix. 

“Simkung? Who's the heartthrob, me or them?”

He jokingly waved you off, as if you could dare be so modest. “You, of course. They’re the stars of the daytime show, and you're the star of the nighttime show. Every good dormitory needs a housekeeper.”

“Daytime show?” You asked, backtracking. Your head was starting to swim with details.

“Yes. We actually have a daytime slot for Noesengnam House.”

“And so this--” you tapped on the gaudy pink logo in front of you, “is airing? On television?”

Felix slowed down a second. “Not quite,” he admitted, “it’s an online subscription for a well-negotiated price. Our clientele are loyal, and word of mouth has been our biggest asset.”

“So I just sleep with everyone.”

“Of course not,” Felix grinned, wagging a cheeky finger at you. “You’re working for a prize as well.” He slid a new graphic across the desk, this one a table of information. One row had a heart, the one below had a broken heart, and the one on the bottom simply had a question mark. The zeroes populating the prize side of the infographic made your pulse race. “Our five budding bachelors are all yours for the taking, but they can’t find out about each other. They each have to think they’re the one you chose. If you bed one of them, that’s 50 million won.”

Felix’s grin grew more wicked as your eyes widened.

“If one of them finds out about the others, you’ll lose 60 million won each. So control of information is key.”

“And what’s this?” You asked suspiciously, pointing at the ominous question mark. 

“That,” he explained, “is for added drama being incited. You’ll find out later.”

“So what if I get all five?” You asked, feeling a bit foolish for getting excited.

“Then you get the prize,” Felix said seriously, “There's 500 million won at hand here, but you don't get to earn any of your penalties back for anyone finding out.”

You felt a little nauseous. That much money could get you a modest house, and maybe a car, and maybe all sorts of things. 

“Where’s the contract?” You cautiously asked, not wanting to sound too eager. 

“Of course,” Felix nodded as he pulled out two packets from under his pile of promotional material, one for each show, “I figured you’ll want copies for your manager--”

“I manage myself,” you firmly replied to Felix’s surprise, taking the copies from him and grabbing a pen from your bag. You flipped through, immediately crossing out any transfer of representation and exclusivity clauses. You had to be able to work after this, and you had to be able to keep up your own streams on the side during production if the schedule allowed. Your pen paused as you hit something interesting. 

“What’s this about accommodations?”

“We’ve leased a house for production instead of making a studio more habitable for the cast. You’ll need to be accessible at all times given our schedule.”

“So my stream…?”

“Sadly, you’ll need to take a hiatus,” Felix pouted a little in sympathy, “but we’re confident you’ll find new fans. Now, are you going to use that pen to sign? Or do you want time?”

A miniature war broke out in your head over the prospects, but you quickly tried to decipher why -- the contract practically led in with the fact you’d get five million up front. That would help pay the bills in advance and settle some debt that had sat while money was tight. If you said no, someone else would say yes. You would meet new guys and network, and possibly come out with more money than you had going in. 

You signed. 

---

Felix wasn’t around on your first day on set, but you had his card in case you needed him. You wheeled your one suitcase to the front door of the handsome house, and an assistant immediately herded you to your room, further away from the chaos currently happening in the main living space. The bottom floor of the house mostly contained the impressive home gym, but appeared to also be where the laundry room and your room were located. You noted cameras tucked into all sorts of corners and crevices, some more obvious than others. 

Your room was modest, with a small bathroom attached and its own fair share of cameras around. It was cutely decorated, a little feminine with warm string lights and soft textiles, but not very personal. It could've been any girl's room, but for now, it was yours. Felix had assured you that the cameras in here would only ever be on at night, and always with a signal of one of the bulbs on your string lights blinking. You opened your closet to get a feel of the space and where you could put your things when you saw your uniforms set out for you. A number of soft blouses with coordinating skirts hung on padded hangers, ready for you to mix and match. When you opened the drawers beside them, you found pairs of sensible tights and delicate pantyhose, some patterned and some not. Thankfully, the costumes were pretty sensible. You didn't want to be parading around in a french maid costume, swishing petticoats in boys’ faces or bending at the waist to show off some frilly panties. If the show wanted you to actually seduce these men and do it with some romance and dignity, the modestly cute uniforms would work just fine. You did also bring some of your own clothes, something Felix so graciously insisted upon, so you had options should you grow tired of the same look. 

You unpacked and changed into a pale pink blouse with a black pencil skirt and some grey tights before heading upstairs where you were immediately intercepted by another assistant. 

“Noona,” the younger man politely greeted, “you must be our housekeeper.” You nodded with a smile in return, popping the first button on your blouse when the assistant held up a lavalier mic to clip on. He quickly averted his eyes as you threaded the cord down and around to your back, endearing you, but just a little. 

“What's your name?” You asked, watching for some sound tech to signal that you were fine or needed adjustments. 

“I’m Seungmin, noona. You can let me know if you need anything. For now, we'll get you to a stylist and get you today's pages.” Seungmin showed you upstairs to the attic of the grand house, a de facto control center just above the main floor. A stylist swept you up and sat you in a chair while Seungmin fetched your pages. As the first episode, you would really only get a short introduction with the other staff: a cook, and a valet. For some reason, these cast members didn’t also reside in the house, but you didn’t need to question the producers at the moment and cause trouble. The main cast appeared to be downstairs already getting set for their first takes, their voices muffled through the thick rugs placed on the floor on this level. A text beeped through your phone that you had stashed in the pocket of your apron, and you opened it. 

>How's my star? Ready for your first day? Can I get a picture? I have the big boss here. 

You rolled your eyes at Felix’s antics, but took a reluctantly cute selfie anyhow, even winking for the camera.

>Perfect. It's like your first day of school and I'm so proud lmao. Big boss says to tone down the sass. Clients are more into Hidden Charm. 

A heavy sigh fell from your chest. You were already nervous for your first real variety debut, let alone with the show tonight lurking ahead. Seungmin appeared right next to you, ready to lead you downstairs as the stylist set your hair one last time. 

The lights in the living room were a bit irritating and took a second to adjust to, but the room itself was great. The home was impeccably decorated, modern and smart and just cozy enough to not feel sterile. You were sat next to your other Staff cast members while the main cast finished up in the dining room, your introductions awkward and brief. An errant bead of sweat traveled from the nape of your neck down your back when the rest of the cast were led into the living room, tempting you to shiver until the crew was done setting up. 

You watched, distracted in the middle of rising from your seat when the cast filed in from the dining room down the hall, stretching and chatting as they took a quick break. The boys all had on some coordinating iteration of the same uniform, capitalizing on the ‘college boys in their dorm’ concept the show was toying with. First was Minho, a perfectly pressed crease undisturbed on his slacks despite filming all morning, and his sleeves bundled up over his hands as he nonchalantly entered the room and immediately took a seat on the couch. Next came Jisung, glasses gradually sliding too low and one end of his necktie a little too short. Changbin followed, looking down his long nose at a loose thread on his sweater vest, with Hyunjin right behind stopping him to fuss over it himself. He stooped down to see better and brazenly reached under the material to pull the loose thread back through before being prodded along by Chan pulling up the rear. Hyunjin straightened up, smoothing out his blazer and adjusting his beret before joining the rest of the boys on the long sofa, Minho now having scooted off to sit on a tufted ottoman. Chan casually rerolled his shirt sleeves and brushed a hand through his ashy blonde hair, opting to stand until the crew was ready. The assistant director stepping in to run down the scene finally pulled you out of your reverie. Clearly, your co-stars’ headshots didn't do them justice, but did they think the same of yours?

The scene was simple: following the round-table of introductions in the previous scene, the cast meets the staff before picking roommates. That was it, that was your big debut, and for some reason it was nerve-wracking. You and the staff all nodded greetings before filming even began, before you took your marks off camera. The boys were all polite, but none of them treated you with any familiarity. You would have to remember to ask Felix if they actually had seen your headshot before coming to set. 

Finally, cameras rolled. As the Seniors of the group, Minho and Chan led the discussion, but Chan was clearly filling his role as the show’s host. He spoke well, and with plenty of charm, but something definitely struck you as odd about him. You just couldn’t pinpoint what. Your cue snapped you out of your train of thought and you suddenly remembered you were nervous, just as you walked on set and into the irritating lights. The valet introduced himself first, and then the cook, and, to your horror… You forgot your cheesy intro line. 

What was it?

Amazing. Your first shot would require a reshoot, and it would be because of a flub. 

You momentarily floundered, opting instead to roll with it and improvise. 

“Hello, boys,” you beamed as you greeted them, “I’m your housekeeper. Keep a good home while you're here, since I'll be the one cleaning it. I hope you have nothing to hide.” You topped it off with a wink, and the boys all shared a momentary air of surprise. You didn't blame them -- it was awkward, cringy, and too ‘sassy.’ The Big Boss probably hated it. 

But the boys laughed. Actually laughed. The take finished without any more problems, and the stylist ran up to reset your hair between takes. 

“Was it bad?” You whispered as she touched up your makeup. 

“No, I liked it!” She smiled, reassuring you a little. In fact, the AD asked you to run it again the way you had, surprised you could improvise at all. The retake went more smoothly, and you finally allowed yourself a sigh of relief as the scene cut for transition. 

As the boys finally wrapped up, you set about your other duties. When the cameras weren't formally set and manned, the planted cameras caught plenty of action from the boys. The valet had it easy; he was come-and-go as the plot necessitated, but you and the cook actually worked. Your contract outlined that while the boys were usually “on” from eight o'clock to eight o'clock, that you were an actual part-timer during the day and working at night. You could “work” your show during the day, but you couldn't interfere with the daytime activities. If you were needed as a housekeeper during the day, then that was priority, and these bookshelves apparently came with dust on them. You set about dusting as the boys transitioned from their scripted work to more casual filming. They each gave you a look as they filed back out of the living room to get set up in their rooms. Some expressions were cryptic, Hyunjin and Chan especially, but some were clear, like Minho’s small grin as he subtly looked you up and down as you reached for a tall shelf. Not wanting to shy away from an opportunity, you smiled back. 

The rest of your day was pretty simple, all things considered. You dusted and swept and tidied up a little, but since all five men had just started living in the house, there wasn’t much else at the moment. The house calmed down considerably as the huge crew dispersed for the day, now resembling just a mostly normal home. You hung out and snacked in your room as you heard everyone eating upstairs, only emerging once you heard their chairs scooting free of the dinner table. At that moment, one of the bulbs on your string lights blinked three times and then turned off. 

You immediately straightened up where you sat in bed and cheerily waved at the camera. Felix had outlined that you would never have to do much talking if you didn’t feel like it. You rose from your bed, turning to fix the bow in your apron before heading out of your room, giving the camera an extra wave. As you turned to ascend the stairs, a figure landed right on the bottom step in front of you, making you jump with a startled laugh. 

“Chan--!” You gasped into a giggle. “I'm so sorry, you surprised me.”

“I’m sorry, noona, I’ll be more careful,” he nodded cordially as he briskly moved to step around you. You quickly took note of the basket in his hands. 

“Wait!” You jumped back in front of him. “You don’t have to do your own laundry, you know. Besides, you already have some on night one?” You held your hands open for him to set the basket into and he hesitated before reluctantly giving it up to you. 

“It’ll take some getting used to, noona, thank you. I just wanted to take care of my uniform and my street clothes from before I got to set.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled warmly despite his stiff demeanor, turning heel back towards the laundry room as Chan hesitated again before heading back up the stairs. Working quickly, you set about separating the meager pile of laundry and getting them started on washing before you returned to your original plan and headed upstairs yourself. 

Through the living room was the dining room, and beyond that was the kitchen down the hall. You peered in, spying a sink full of dishes from dinner. You pulled on some gloves and got to washing when your ears perked up at the sound of the kitchen door swinging open. Just like that, your assumption was right: someone had to be a late-night snacker in the cast. And, of course, it was Minho. 

“I'm sure you could’ve eaten with us if you wanted,” Minho slyly grinned as he pulled open a cabinet and peered inside. His uniform was swapped out for a much comfier number, a simple henley shirt and pajama pants. The thin layers hugged the subtle outlines of his figure and suggested that despite his casual nature, he still put in effort for his looks. He came away from the cabinet with a box of cookies and offered it to you. You smiled and silently declined. 

“I appreciate that, Minho, but I'm just the help.”

“Yeah, but you’re pretty,” he said bluntly, quietly picking the box open, “and I feel like we could be friends.”

You watched, quietly impressed with how cool Minho could be. He silently, nonchalantly took a bite of a cookie and offered you a bite of the same. Could you really say no to an advance like that? 

Sure you could. Where was the fun in making it easy? You spied a camera in the corner of the kitchen, tucked under the hanging cabinets. Stepping aside, Minho instinctively circled with you, opening your conversation up for the camera. 

“It’s only the first night, Minho,” you teasingly scolded as you leaned forward and took a bite of the proffered cookie, “you shouldn't be so eager.”

Minho surprised you again, his thumb instantly at your lip and cleaning off a crumb you hadn't even felt. 

“Are you sure you're just the help?” He laughed quietly. “You don't act like it.”

“I can act however you want me to,” you teased back, enjoying the way his eyes lit up at your little repartee. You locked gazes as you let his thumb caress your bottom lip, watching for his reaction when dipped your chin to take the digit between your lips for just a moment. You took a step back, leaning back against the counter. His turn now. Minho set the box of cookies down, a devilish grin tugging at his lip as he stepped closer. 

When the door swung open once again. You both rapidly turned away from each other, your hands plunging back into the sink and Minho turning back to the cabinets. Changbin blinked at the two of you. 

“‘Sup,” Minho cheerily greeted, “I'm making myself something to eat. Want anything?”

“Nah,” Changbin shook his head as his eyes darted between the two of you before settling on the box of cookies on the counter. He stiffly reached between you both and grabbed it. “I'll be just fine with this. Unless you wanted--?”

“No, thanks, that's fine, like I said, making myself something,” Minho enthusiastically prattled on, making himself look busy as he started facetiously searching for pans in the bottom cabinets under the counter. Changbin raised an eyebrow before shrugging, popping open the box of cookies and digging in as he left the kitchen. 

A beat passed in the silence as you both waited for Changbin’s footsteps to disappear, but you didn’t get a chance to say anything before you felt Minho press up behind you where you stood at the sink. You let yourself have a small smile as he reached his arms around you, grabbing a kitchen towel and pulling your hands out of the sink to dry them. His head leaned down over your shoulder, his breath tickling your neck as he took his time before you grew impatient. You leaned back against his chest, opening up your neck for him. Minho breathed you in and brushed your hair back, the impression of his smirk pressed into you as his lips brushed against the delicate skin. 

You turned in his arms, playfully pushing him back a couple inches by the hips, and he instantly stepped closer, getting on with it already and driving his lips against yours. His flannel pajama pants did next to nothing to hide his growing erection he was currently grinding into your thigh. You kissed him deep, readily spreading your legs for him as his hands searched you and played with the hem of your skirt. 

“Right here?” You asked coyly. 

“As if we weren't pushing for that this whole time already,” Minho chuckled as he kissed you up and back against the counter. He spun you back around, pressing your hips against the sink as he kissed and nibbled at your neck. “Say it,” he implored. 

“Fuck me,” you replied breathlessly, gasping as Minho immediately pulled your skirt up around your hips and bent you over the sink, his fingers dipping below the waist of your tights and tugging them down. His fingertips probed your dripping entrance from behind and you gave an encouraging moan for him to continue. “What,” you grinned back over your shoulder, “chickening out?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting this,” he teased, “you sure you want it? You did say it's the first night.”

“Give it to me,” you said adamantly. Minho smiled back as he pulled out his hard length. One hand gripped your hip as he guided himself in, groaning as your depths took him deep. You squeaked out a surprised moan when he bottomed out before both his hands were on your hips now and pulling you deeper around him. 

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from getting too loud as Minho fucked you over the sink, his hips bucking hard against you as his length filled you up. Once he set a reliable rhythm, one hand crept lower, between your legs to caress your clit as he fucked you.

“I want to make you cum,” Minho gritted behind you, “tell me how and I'll do it.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing and you will,” you taunted. 

Minho seemed pleased with your answer, his fingers still rubbing firm circles on your clit as his cock drove in and out of you even faster. You pushed your hips back against his, gripping the counter hard as the refined angle helped hit your spot more consistently. Minho let out a deep groan at the sound of your quickening whimpers, the sound of you approaching your orgasm making it difficult for him to keep up his own pace. 

“Minho,” you gasped, “I’m gonna--!”

You threw your head back as you cried out, quickly muffled when Minho pressed his own hand over your mouth. He kept it there, his other hand still holding firm onto your hip as he fucked you through your orgasm and on his way to his own. You whined and moaned into his palm, the way his own desperate groans combined with his stuttering grip on you making you lightheaded. He came hard, suddenly, emptying himself inside you as he gritted out hushed curses and panted breaths. 

You both stayed there, connected at the hips before Minho pulled out and brought you back up from the ledge of the sink. It was sweet, the way he helped put you back together and kissed your cheek. 

“Thanks,” he panted with a grin, still catching his breath, “hope this won’t make anything weird.”

“Of course not,” you smiled back as you brushed your fingers through your hair, “we can even do it again some time if you’d like.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. What’re friends for?” You winked, and Minho’s laugh was almost bashful as he playfully nudged your shoulder. His hand lingered on yours before he gave a cute wave and finally walked out of the kitchen. 

You waited a beat for Minho’s footsteps to disappear before you found the closest camera in the corner of the kitchen and gave it a wave and a smile. You finished the dishes and left them to dry and exited the kitchen, nearly screaming in surprise as you ran right into someone. 

Another assistant, blinking in surprised relief and taking a deep breath. 

“Well done, noona,” the assistant laughed quietly. 

“Who are--”

“Jeongin, noona, sorry.”

“Where have you been hiding?” You asked, bewildered. 

“Upstairs in the control room. I come in when the day crew leaves to help supervise in case you need anything.” He handed you a bottle of water and you nodded your gratitude, uncapping and taking a sip as you looked him over. He was an actual infant. He must've gotten roped into the industry right out of school. “Any other plans tonight?”

“Don’t think so,” you chuckled. “The show won’t be much fun if I get everything done in one week.”

“Sounds good, noona. You’ll be getting some rest then?” 

“Sure will.” You waved goodbye to the assistant as he crept back up the stairs and you headed down towards your room, making a quick stop to make a change over in Chan’s laundry for him. 

You stripped down in the comfort of your room, waving as the camera blinked on and you pulled on your pajamas. The sheets were welcoming as you crawled into bed, blowing a kiss to your viewers before the camera blinked back off. Your phone buzzed with a text from Felix as your eyelids grew heavy. 

>Good show tonight. Great start. The big boss loved it. Can you wear the dark blue blouse tomorrow? I want to see if it looks better than the pink. And don't make tonight a habit. We gotta keep things interesting. ;)

You sighed, now suddenly curious how you would “keep things interesting” between all five boys and wondering who would be next. 

[miss-choco-chips]

Twisted soulmates

BIG Thank you to @iphoenixrising who let me babble on chat about this idea, and to @the-sky-is-a-lie who is an awesome sweetheart and read and edited this for me (THANK YOU!)

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

Tim has three names on one wrist. His soulmates. Tim has one name on the other wrist. His nemesis.

...or are they?

Tim gets his first mark the night the Graysons fell, ‘Richard John Grayson’ forever tattooed on him, the otherwise unblemished white skin of his left wrist almost shining in contrast to the new addition.

Young, he might be, but not stupid; never stupid. Neither of his parents would approve of a circus artist, perfect as he may be in Tim’s wide opened eyes, so he had to be smart about this. His mind hasn’t stopped whirling since the little touch that burned Dick’s name on him and vice versa, all kind of plans on how to broach the subject with the adults, how to make Dick like him beyond the promised love of a soulmate, every possibility dancing through his eyes, while his parents look for their seats at the stands none the wiser.

He's planning on asking his mom to stay after the show, so he might properly introduce himself to this marvelous trapezist, maybe proclaim an interest in the training - anything that could improve his overall abilities was a good thing in Janet’s eyes, and having her on board would be enough to force his father to accept. He’s excited at the prospect, and a part of him thinks Dick, up the trapeze getting ready for his act, feels the same. That he could feel, through the bond that snapped in place when the other kid first touched him, an echo of his own happiness, a joy at finding, so soon in life, something as beautiful as this. 

He’s going to stay after the show. He’ll talk to Dick, introduce himself properly, be as mature as possible- Dick wouldn’t want a dumb kid as his soulmate. Maybe even make friends with this wonderful boy that can fly and is destined to love him.

(Love him, him, him. He can’t wrap his head around this strange concept of being on the receiving end of something strong and wonderful. He might cry.)

Then the tragedy occurs, and  Tim's too traumatized to think about doing anything about it. He can't pester a grieving boy with this. They are kids after all, and it’s not like their bond is going anywhere. 

(I don’t want to wait, please don’t forget about me, please love me.)

---.---

Dick has just been adopted, his entire worldview had changed, adding a soulmate to care about would be just too mean of him. Tim can take care of himself, even when sometimes, after his parents left for yet another trip, he yearns for someone to hold his hand after a nightmare. To brush his hair back and hug him.

But that’s just the child in him. He doesn’t need it to live, it’s just a silly comfort thing to wish for, like the baby blanket his mother had made the servants take away once Tim turned four. So he keeps quiet. He waits. 

Dick’s name is on his left wrist, after all. He is his soulmate.

----.----

He gets his second mark years later, when the Batcave’s security is breached and some strange men attack Bruce. The giant penny is too tall, but he still get a good look at the man below it, and something in his gut twists. It all makes sense a few minutes later, when Bruce is fighting someone else and the man in green robes pushes Tim aside, holding him hostage to get the Batman’s cooperation. 

The skin on his wrist, the one that doesn't have Dick's promised love tattooed on it, burns. He doesn’t dare look down, aware of how taking your eyes from the predator in the room could mean instant death. He doesn’t need to, anyway; he already knows.

Tim’s pretty sure this is his nemesis, because no way he'd be destined to hate Dick and love this criminal, and they are on opposite wrists. So… getting away is the first step on his ‘do not interact with this terrorist until I’m significantly better at defending myself’ plan. Easy peasy.

He catches the side glance the man shoots him, because of course he also felt the burn, and there’s curiosity there. Something akin to amusement, which, Tim can get behind, he’s also seeing the irony of this, the utterly ridiculousness of him being important enough in the grand scheme of things to warrant being tattooed on this man’s skin.

There’s also possessiveness there, which isn’t fun at all. Stranger danger, his mind screams at him.

His nemesis shouldn’t be possessive of him, unless he has a really fucked up view of his enemies, in a ‘their death is mine, and mine only’ way. Because this is his nemesis, there's no doubt in his mind of that. 

Dick is on his other wrist, after all, and he is his soulmate.

----.----

Bruce goes mental when he finds out later, and almost blows a gasket. Ra’s, as Tim later finds out his nemesis is called, is suddenly one upping the Joker on Batman’s high priority enemies list, which means only a glimpse of him anywhere near the city borders would warrant a call to Superman, Bruce’s ultimate last resort. That’s how big this is.

Young Justice has split feelings on the matter. Cissie and Cassie, ever the bloodthirsty ones in Tim’s humble opinion, suggest tracking the man down before he can get to their leader, and taking him out of the game. Probably permanently. Kon seems torn, half with the girls, half with Bart, who finds the whole thing amusing and exciting. Ra’s Al Ghul, one of the most dangerous enemies the Justice League ever faced, and little old Robin is his fated enemy. Not Superman, not Wonder Woman, not Batman himself; just their Rob. That, according to the speedster, is so, so, so crash. The rest of the team, if they have opinions, keep them to themselves. It takes a while to calm the room down and focus on their mission of the day, but he eventually succeeds.

Dick, on his part, comes back from where he was brooding with the Titans after a fight with his mentor to fret over Tim, and everything is right in the world. 

He isn't afraid of Ra's. He has his new family, new friends, and soulmate.

----.----

There’s something on his pillow when he gets back from the weekend with his friends. 

A perfect rose, white as snow, thorns so sharp Tim knows they would pierce skin if touched. Not that he would be so stupid as to do it, not when foes like Ivy existed.

But… there’s a ribbon, and it sends ice through his veins. A red ribbon, tied at the stem’s exact center. A flower with a ribbon, the universal symbol of soulmates.

He’s pretty sure Dick’s back in San Francisco. Which leaves...

No.

He squares his shoulders and searches in his bag for his Robin gauntlets, protecting his hands with them as he disposes of the rose.

His right hand stings a little through the entire process.

----.----

When he gets his third mark, he's honestly surprised. As well as on the edge of unconsciousness from blood loss.

The blood flooding his airways is his, and the building that he believed was his safe place would never feel like that again. His knocked out friends litter the hallways, the bo staff he tried to use to defend himself long lost to the fight, as this man, his hero, his Robin, his apparent Soulmate, tries to kill him.

(Their eyes meet and they feel it at the same time, the twist in their stomachs, which is what stops Jason's blade. Tim’s hand raises up, weakly, and carefully brushes against the one holding the knife. It burns, and everything goes black for a minute.) 

(Jason stops breathing. He has the Joker on one hand, and was markless on the other until now, so this runt has to be his soulmate. No way it's the deranged clown. Which means he almost....)

Jason runs away (this is Jason, his wrist claims, not the mysterious Red Hood any longer) and Tim patches himself up, does damage control with his friends, calls Batman. His heart is beating twice as fast as usual, but he tries to be logical; Jason is on the same wrist as Dick, who is his soulmate, and opposite to Ra's, who's most likely his nemesis. Ergo, Jason's gotta be his soulmate. 

His confused, probably traumatized, totally not in his right mind soulmate.

He's gotta be patient and wait. Jason surely will get better, will come back to Tim, will fix this mistake he almost made, will... will love him.

Dick is his soulmate, and calls him ‘little brother’, which hurts, but he says it with such warmth that it soothes the ache. Dick loves him. 

Jason will, too, someday.

----.----

A few weeks later, he wakes up in the middle of the night, conscious of the feeling of being watched from the shadows of his room. 

There’s the teddy bear Steph won for him at the fair some months ago, sitting on the chair near his bed where he last put it, but… odd. There’s something about it that’s not quite normal, something that wasn’t there when he went to sleep half an hour ago.

It took him less than a minute to spot it, which would still be shameful if Bruce ever found out, but he sees the unusual shine in the bear’s eye and groans, more tired than rightfully angry, feeling like the moody teenager he never actually was.

A hidden camera. This was the fifth of the year, what the hell?

Pissed off, he gets up and takes the scissors he leaves by his bedside (can’t exactly go to sleep with a birdarang there, his dad might check on him at night and freak out, but sleeping without a weapon in easy reach just makes him uncomfortable) and makes quick work of the bear, getting the device out with as minimal damage to the plushie as possible. He’ll fix it later.

Beyond done, one hand opens the window with more strength than absolutely necessary, the other flying back to gather momentum and throw the thing right at the supposedly empty shadow on the roof of the building across the street. He’s not surprised when a dark gloved hand catches it, the rest of the body still perfectly concealed by the night. Fucking ninja.

No words needed, he slams the window shut again and grumbles his way to his desk, turning on his lamp. He’s not falling asleep again tonight, so might as well work on some cases.

----.----

His fourth mark is both exciting and like a bucket of cold water. 

It's a fucking kid.

Is this how Dick felt when he first got Tim's mark? No wonder he avoided talking about the subject, this was uncomfortable as fuck. Granted, it didn't necessarily have to be a romantic soulmate, platonic soulmates were a thing too, but... still. Awkward.

Even worse because the kid didn't have another mark and, as Tim was his first, was convinced he had to be his fated nemesis. No matter how hard Tim tried to explain the opposite; after the heart stilling moment where he extended his hand for a shake and was slapped away, thus providing the skin to skin contact needed for the bond to form, the brat was sure it was nothing but a ruse to get him to lower his defenses or something. God this kid was fucked up. 

So. In short. There were two of his soulmates trying to kill him. Great. 

But... Dick was on the same wrist as them. Dick loved him. Dick was his soulmate. So Damian... Damian had to be, as well. Maybe he'd grow out if his hate, maybe it was just a phase. 

Maybe.

----.----

His mother and father were dead. Steph was dead. His two best friends were dead.

Tim was numb, going through the motions but not really feeling anything. His only source of emotion, nowadays, was his constant rage at Damian, and the adrenaline while fighting a bad guy. 

He barely slept. He couldn’t remember the last time he properly ate. The manor wasn’t comforting enough with the little assassin roaming around for him to get any shut eye, and how could Tim be sure he wasn’t going to poison his food?

Sleeping in safe houses seemed the smarter move, even when they weren’t really safe at all, judging by the ‘gifts’ that kept appearing every time he turned his back. Food - sealed and untempered with - files on whatever case he was working on, a brand of turkish coffee that he would gladly down even if it contained poison…

Flowers, hundreds of them, all white in color, tiny red ribbons tying their stems.

Tim shivered at the meaning, but no longer minded the feeling of eyes on him while he slept. Looking for hidden cameras was too much effort to be worth it, as long as there were none in the bathroom and his walk in closet. He couldn’t care less, these days. 

----.----

Jason tried to kill him. Again. In the middle of a Pit Episode, even after all Tim had done to help him, to mend their relationship.

Damian was even worse, abusing Tim any way he could, any time he got the chance to get away with it. And it was a startlingly large amount of times, considering their family should be more attentive to attempted murder. None of Tim's effort to bond ever bore fruit.

But he's still convinced they are his soulmates, so he's gotta be patient. They have to be. 

Because Dick is his soulmate, and they share a wrist.

Because Dick...

----.----

Dick betrayed him. In the worst possible way, in the most vulnerable moment of his life. When Tim needed him the most.

Jason tried to kill him. 

Damian tried to kill him.

Dick betrayed him (which was, arguably, worse).

Dick was his soulmate. Jason was his soulmate. Damian was his soulmate.

They had to be.

----.----

His quest for Batman would’ve been a lonely affair, if not for the honeyed voice whispering in his ear. The silent eyes he felt on his skin wherever he went, more heavy than his three assassin escorts’ stares.

What a crazy world it was, where Tim’s nemesis believed in him, while his first soulmate, the one he loved almost his entire life, claimed delusion. Where his nemesis sent his people to keep him alive, to keep others out of his way, while his other two sought his death.

What a crazy world indeed.

----.----

-I think we need to talk, Timothy. About this bond we share.

-I’m listening.

Timothy, he said, but it didn’t sound like his name at all. 

In his mind, it echoed something scary, something that made him shiver and tense. 

It sounded like Mine.

----.----

Ra's al Ghul was probably his soulmate. 

He's gotta be. Because there's no way Tim's fated to love three people that are just going to break his heart again and again and again.

When he goes to the League for help looking for Bruce, he steels himself in place when Ra's’ voice in his ear makes him want to flinch. He grits his teeth at the viper like words murmured in soft tones. Makes himself accept when Ra's offers to train him in the ninja arts after he successfully brought his mentor back. Clenches his fists when he's asked to dinner in a dimly lit French restaurant.

Ra's didn't retaliate when Tim blew up half his bases. He kept giving Tim pointers and praises. Seeking his company.

So he breathes in. 

He forgave Damian for being a killer, Jason for being one, too. He surely can find it in himself to forgive his actual soulmate for being a criminal. 

In time.

Right?

...Right?

----.----

Something dark and victorious twists in Ra’s chest when the Detective doesn’t flinch away from his touch, and silently accepts the white rose and red ribbon he presents before guiding him deep into the restaurant. There’s acceptance in Timothy’s eyes, reluctant but hopeful, even if he stirs away from any ‘dangerous’ topics of conversation and very firmly drops a drug test pill in his glass of water the second the waitress turns her back on them. 

Ra’s doesn’t comment on it, merely mirrors the act on his own wine (one could never be too sure, not when an enemy as interesting as this is seated across from him) before raising it for a toast. Not that the Detective was aware of the reason.

He’s got a lot to celebrate. 

Deceiving this one wasn’t easy, after all.

----.----

Later that night, alone in his room, Tim turns in the bed, his back to the cameras on the far end of the room. The movement is slow, lazy, following his usual sleeping patterns. A clumsy hand pats the mattress, blindly looking for a pillow and dragging it to his chest, face hidden by its softness. He goes lax again, peaceful and oblivious to the world around him to any lingering eye.

Once he’s sure there’s no way anyone could see him, Tim lets a slow, dangerous smile creep on his face, his heartbeat thundering in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his veins, feeling so alive it’s almost painful after all the numbness.

Ra’s was looking so smug, like the cat that got the canary. Oh, he tried to hide it, but Tim had made it his life's mission since he was twelve to understand the man to his truest essence, to be able to read him as one would a book, and practice had taught him how to play him like a cheap kazoo.

He probably shouldn’t smile, safe as he is in hiding his face in the pillow, but he can’t help it.

Deceiving Ra’s, soulmate or not, wasn’t easy.

[alloveroliver]

Kiro x MC “No Time To Lose.”

Rating: Smut, Light Dom!Kiro

WC: 3,553

A|N: Contains slightly rough sex, over the counter, with clothes on, mixed with narrowly getting caught. This was inspired by Anons Thirstday submission and their Kofi donation. Thank you!

Summary: Unable to spend time together due to Kiro's busy schedule, you two manage to sneak away for a quick date. However, when things begin to heat up, it's a race against time not to get caught in the act to ensure there can be more secret dates in the future.

Mr. Love Queen’s Choice Fanfic

Kiro took off his forward facing cap and fluffed up his hair while he held the door to his home open for you. The scent of his shampoo filled the space as you walked past, ignited by the band of sweat that slicked his golden hair leaving you in a cloud of his soapy scent. Crossing the threshold the AC in his apartment hit you in the face, soothing your warm sun-kissed skin.

"Annnd here we are!" Kiro gestured to his open concept condo. He placed the black hat on backward with his hair thoroughly fluffed anew.  

"It feels much better here than it did outside in the blazing sun." You comment, looking around at the semi-familiar decor.

You've been here before, but never during the day while the sun poured into the massive windows. His manager wouldn't allow you to come here, not in broad daylight at least, and never hand in hand with the pop star himself.

"Yes, it does. Now that we successfully hid from everyone, we have another major decision to make." He looked over at you solemnly. "Are you ready?"

Your hair stuck to your neck and forehead while you tried to wipe off the thin sheen of sweat with the back of your hand.  

"What decision is it?" You asked, slightly worried as you stare at his creased brows.

With a wink, he broke out into an infectious smile. "What flavor ice cream do you want, of course."

He chuckled, walking down the hall to the left. You followed after hanging your purse on one of the coat hangers at the entryway. Entering the spacious kitchen, the sensory lights flicked on at your presence. The countertops were backlit with a gentle blue glow highlighting the kitchen themed knick-knacks that the interior designer splayed about.

Kiro popped open one of the cabinets revealing a hidden freezer built into the wall and placed his hand on his hip. "We got cherry garcia, vanilla bean, milk chocolate, cookies and cream, rocky roa-"

"Cookies and cream!" You blurt out before he can finish listing off the ridiculous number of frozen desserts he hid in his massive fridge.

Kiro laughed at your eagerness. "Alright, cookies and cream it is. Do you want whip cream or sprinkles? Perhaps both?" He waggled his brows.

"Um," It was a valid question. "Both!"

"Alright!" His energy matched yours as he pulled out a tub of ice cream. "Bowls are behind you. I'll get the spoons."

You whipped around post haste, grabbing the turquoise and navy blue marbled bowls from his glass cupboard. He shut the utensils drawer with his hip once he found two large spoons and moved back to the cold tub.

Soon, you two were enjoying a delicious bowl of overly sweet ice cream with added rainbow sprinkles, whipped cream, and even a maraschino cherry to top it all off. The uninterrupted time together seemed so blissful, but you made sure not to get carried away in the silence.

"How much time do you think we have left?" Your spoon clinked against the side of the glass bowl.

Kiro pushed his cherry stim to the side then arched a brow to the clock above the stove. "I would like to say forever, but in reality, maybe more like twenty to thirty minutes?"

His leg dangled off the countertop you two sat on, hitting the cabinets in a musical tune below. The shirt Kiro wore brushed against your arm every time he took a bite of ice cream. You tried to sit closer to him, but any further and you would basically be in his lap.

Placing your empty bowl next to you on the island countertop in the center of the room, you hooked your ankle around his, halting his unfamiliar tune. Kiro let his spoon drop into his bowl and jerked his head over to you.

"Am I being annoying?"

"No, not at all. I just want to be close to you." You reassure him with a wide smile.

Your gazes locked and he nodded understandingly.

"Then," He placed his bowl down with a loud clunk on the granite stone and licked his lips of any remaining droplets of ice cream. "I want to be closer too."

A moment passed while you two stared at each other. The tension that built up every time you were alone became palpable in Kiro's grandiose kitchen. Alone, and close enough to feel the warmth of the other made the air sizzle magnetically. You were drawn to him, and he to you.

The way he dipped his head down to you was apparent what he was doing, yet your shyness made you look away. Smiling, Kiro brought his hand up to your cheek. With his fingertips cold from holding the ice cream bowl, he ran them along your jawline cooling your rapidly blushing skin.

The tender moment warmed your chest from the inside, making a smile quirk on your features. Kiro's crystal blue eyes looked briefly down to your mouth before he tore them back to your gaze. His lips parted as his jaw relaxed, guiding you to them with his large hand.

Gentle lips encase your own, radiating warmth from their touch. Kiro began to hold you tight to his chest, allowing you to get close enough to smell the soapy scent again mixed with a hint of musk. His fingers glide along the curve of your neck, slipping between the strands of your hair.

The island countertop was big enough for Kiro to push you back to lay flat on the surface. He guided you slowly until your head met the solid stone. He hovered over your form without breaking the passionate kiss. Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, but the action knocked off his backward cap as your arms collide with the lid. Both of you ignore the accessory fluttering to the ground while the kiss grew ever more profound.

His tongue teased your lips, then delved past to explore your mouth. Kiro's hand moved to rest on your waist, using his thumb to massage your hip bone. This was the point of no return. You either stopped here, or there was nothing on this planet that could pull you two apart until you both knew the other was satisfied.

A tense moment past. Neither of you stopped.

His thumb ran circles over your shirt until the hem was askew, revealing the warm skin of your torso. His teeth playfully tugged on your bottom lip, keeping his eyes closed as he kissed you passionately.

Time ticked by tauntingly. The fear of his manager walking into his apartment at any time with the spare key hung over you like a dark cloud. Kiro was under a contract and had to follow what he was told, that meant if the manager didn't approve of you, he had to power to make you disappear from his life for good.

Taking that fear, you grab a fist full of Kiro's shirt and tug, clinging to him for dear life. Your boyfriend dipped his head, letting you pull the fabric up, baring his lower abdomen. His muscles were solid, perfectly sculpted. Your hand ran down his chest, feeling his taut muscles until you met his firmly toned stomach.

"If you touch me any lower, I'll think unspeakable things."

"Think them." You blurted. "I want you…"

His bright eyes grew dark, piercing yours with unbridled lust that he tried so desperately to contain. He blinked, and there was no way for his eyes to hide a flicker of fiery passion.

He pulled at the hem of your shirt until it was exposing your delicate bra beneath. Your forehead pressed into his, breaking the kiss. Kiro let out an open-mouthed sigh and moved away from your lips. His long fingers teased the band of your bra while he looked up at your mischievously.

His smile illuminated his features. Then he pulled the bottom of the undergarment up until your breasts spill out of the confines. The lips that once pressed firmly to your mouth were now gently encasing the sensitive peaks of your chest. His tongue smoothed over the soft nipple while his hand slid down the curve of your hip, holding you safely in his embrace.

Everything seemed to be speeding up exponentially when his hand obscured your skirt and your legs parted for him to draw nearer. Kiro's hips pressed against your leg once, then twice revealing how aroused he was for you. He gasped, pressing into you a third time.

Your hand moved to weave into his silky smooth locks. Kiro's teeth grazed your pert nipple, making you moan indecently. You pressed your lips together, trying to hide the sound, tasting the sweet whipped cream lingering on your lips.

Kiro's mouth moved to your lower breast, kissing and sucking at the sensitive spot until a small hickey began to form. He moved to the opposing one, leaving yet another mark of his existence intimately on your skin.

Deft fingers ran along your slit, above the thin cotton panties you wore. Kiro tugged at the fabric until it dug into your lips, making the sensation to your clit unending. His usually soft features were now sharp, filled with concentration. The world faded away as he teased your helpless little nub.

Your panties were quickly drenched in your desires, soaking his fingers in the process. Kiro moved to your neck, finding the sweet spot under your ear you loved so much and focused all his energy there.

The numbers on the digital clock above the stove continued to increase, causing your anxiety to crack wide open.

"He could be here soon," You open your legs further, allowing the panties to disappear deeper between your folds.

"I know," His voice was down an octave as his breath tickled your neck. "M- maybe I can sneak into your house tonight, and we can continue."

"No, Kiro." You practically moaned his name. "I want you now. I'm ready, I really am."

You didn't care if it was too soon for your body to take him, but Kiro seemed to be keen on that. He slowly dipped his pointing finger into your entrance, and you could feel how tight you were as his digit curled into you. It was a small attempt to add more foreplay to allow your body to take him easily.

"I said, I'm ready." You reiterate, glancing over at the clock again. "Please, I want you. I need you." You beg your pensive boyfriend.

He let out a long breath and stared down at you. A heartbeat passed as he sat still, studying the desperation in your eyes. Then a switch was flipped, and he removed his finger.

"Relax for me," His sensual voice coaxed you. Sitting up with his knees on the countertop, he fumbled with his belt buckle. Your bra dug into your skin, your hair was a mess around our face, and your back began to ache against the solid surface. The granite was unforgiving, pressing against your shoulder blades and spine as Kiro angled himself above you.

"Spread your legs," He pumped his free cock a couple of times, leaning down to your center. "And pull your panties to the side," Kiro added quickly.

You scrambled towards your skirt, pushing the fabric up then finding your lingerie. Kiro glance over at the clock you had been focusing on, and his sense of urgency began to match your own.

With joint effort, Kiro was able to push the tip of his length into your eager entrance. The way he gasped gave away what a tight fit it was for him. His cheeks grew red while his hands moved to find your wrists. He only pressed in minutely to make sure your body adapted to his inch by inch.

With his hands on your wrists, he pushed them above your head and held them there. Kiro's solid chest heaved against your exposed breast as he angled down to your level. He began to pump shallowly, bringing his lips down to share a deeply passionate kiss with you.

Your body was so eager, clenching around him helplessly bringing him in further without any effort on his part. You went to wrap your arms around his neck when you felt his grip tighten on your wrists. He held you there, unable to move the deeper he sank into your sex. With his strength, you wouldn't be able to wiggle free from his grasp.

You had a choice, keep fighting against him or let him have full control over your body. Choosing the ladder, you relax while Kiro moves your torso over into the position he wanted you in. Your arms stretched high over your head while his hips moved in a rhythm that kept your thighs spread wide apart.

He broke the kiss, using his teeth to tease your bottom lip. Kiro took a deep inhale, and you felt his hips flesh against yours. He sheathed himself fully into you, sitting there for a moment while his chest heaved.

"You have me." Kiro kissed your cheek as he spoke. "Now, what do you want?" His tone was teasing, linking his fingers with yours yet still keeping them above your head.

You sighed, feeling the cheeky grin on his face as he kissed your jawline. "Make love to me…" You whispered.

"Making love might take a while because, you see, I'm madly in love with you." Kiro playfully kissed your neck. "I could do that, or…" He paused. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Your eyes went wide and face heated. Suddenly the sensation of Kiro's lips were too much. The feeling of him kissing the shell of your ear made you so sensitive that small gasps escape your throat.

"Fuck me."

Kiro let go of your hands at your request. Soon you were being dragged over the smooth countertop and tossed onto your stomach. Your feet hit the ground just in time for Kiro to kick them apart. You kept your cheek pressed down on the counter as his cock entered you anew.

"Hands behind your back." He requested urgently.

You moved to fold your arms behind your back while your stomach and chest adjusted to the flat surface. Kiro used your arms as leverage, holding them together tightly, pumping into you faster than before.

The sensation of him hitting your sweet spot perfectly, over and over, made you cry out into his kitchen. He hardly removed himself from you, as if he didn't dare be too far away. His thrusts made him breathe heavily through gritted teeth, while his fingers dug deliciously into your arm.

It was bliss, all of it. The way Kiro let go of his inhibitions and fucked you senseless over the ledge set your mind into a frenzy. The mild pain from his nails in your skin sent waves of pleasure coursing to your core. He knew you liked it like this, desired him to act like this. Kiro would be anything you wanted him to be, act however you wanted him to act as long as you were happy.

"Harder," You rasped, pushing your hips back towards his relentless thrusts. "Deeper…"

Kiro stopped, lifted your right leg, and hooked it around his hip. Holding it there, he began pumping into you again, this time hitting you at a deeper angle than before. He obliged your other request by going faster and faster until the sound of your skin, hitting one another's filled the room.

His hand held your arms behind your back while the other held your leg. There was the thought of the clock again, but you didn't care enough now even to give it another glance. Your pussy fluttered against his thick cock, pumping ceaselessly into you.

The clothes you wore became too hot, and your vision became a hazy blur. Your back arched into the speed, and you felt how hard your walls clamped down around him.

"Say my name when you cum." Kiro panted. He was in fantastic shape, so the state of his breathing showed just how much effort he was putting into pleasing you. "That's how I know your cuming for me and me alone. Say my name."

He could feel how close you were as he watched you unravel before him. You moaned, making sure not to say his name until he instructed you to.

"Yes, yes… yes." Your groaning voice dripped with affirmations.

"I love hearing you moan, but my favorite is when you moan my name." He urged you on, wanting you to so desperately cum for him.

His hand left your arms, then Kiro reached around and pet your swollen clit. You jerked at the rush of pleasure from his skilled fingertips. Kiro kept your leg hooked back while playing with your sensitive nub.

Your blurred vision went white, and toes curled, while you pressed your face down into the hard surface.

"That's it." Kiro cooed. "Cum for me."

The combination of everything finally came to a head. Your desires burst open, and rushing pleasure coursed through your veins. Your muscles tightened then relaxed over and over again while his cock kept hitting the best spot of them all.

"Kiro! Ki-ro…" You helplessly screamed. These moans egged him on, making him fuck you harder and faster while coming undone for him.”Kiro...”

He didn't stop, nor did he slow as your release came to an end. The overstimulation kicked in the harder he thrust into your quivering pussy. Kiro panted. He dropped your leg, then reached for both of your shoulders to brace himself.

Your collective moans mixed, growing louder. You kept your hands behind your back like he asked as his fingertips dug into your collarbone. Kiro raced to find his own release in the limited time you both had.

You felt his form falter and his moans draw out longer.  A knock to the front door ripped you out of your concentration. Kiro held your shoulders tight while the person outside his apartment called out for him.

"He's here!" You panicked, realizing Kiro hadn't stopped. He kept going, desperately wanting to use your body to find his own release.

Hips slapping against one another, you sat still and strained your ears to hear the door. It was difficult to concentrate on when Kiro's cock started another coil in your abdomen to tighten.

"I think- Ah. I might cum again."

"I'm close too. So so close." He mewled, pressing his forehead against the back of your head. "Cum with me." He urged, rocking his hips just right.

The jingle of keys fitting into the front door made your stomach sink, but your release didn't waver. The coil snapped inside your belly like a rubber band, and you came on his cock again. Moaning his name, Kiro began chanting yours over and over like a mantra. You felt the heat in your sex, the pulse of his member helplessly spilling into you.

"Kiro!" A man's voice yelled out into the hallway. You both went silent, desperately trying to keep your breathing even.

Kiro grabbed you by the waist and helped you stand up. He zipped his pants and helped you bring your bra and top back down to cover you. Heavy footsteps grew near, and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. If you two were caught together, especially in this uncompromising position, there was no telling what his manager would do.

Your hands intertwined, and he tugged you out the back way of his kitchen. Now in the living room, you two tiptoed towards his bedroom and slipped in.

"Kiro I know you're here! I can see your hat laying on the floor." The man's voice filled the condo again.

"Shit." Kiro chuckled almost soundlessly to you. "Busted."

Your back was against his bedroom door after he gently shut it. Kiro hugged you to his chest, nuzzling his face into your hair. 

"Just stay quiet. I'll walk out there alone and distract him since he knows I'm already here." He kissed your forehead. "Alright?" His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded. "That's my good girl." He teased, showing you a dazzling smile

His hair was a mess, tousled, and sweaty. The heat outside could be a good excuse as long as the manager didn't know what just transpired.

As you stood there, pressed against Kiro's body, you could feel warmth began to trickle down your thigh. It made your heart kickstart and cheeks light up bright pink.

"You okay?" Kiro fixed his shirt and hair to be more presentable before he was to leave the bedroom.

"Um yeah, I'm fine. But, can I use your shower after you leave?"

His eyes locked to yours and they crinkled at the sides knowingly. Heat shone behind his cheery facade. "Of course."

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate you <3 I am changing up the way I do things, so bear with me as I 'rebrand' XD

Masterlist is at the top of my blog~

[ninetyeightwriter-blog]

Untitled

A/N: So… I love reading, since I was little, and, at some point, I started fantasizing about actually writing the stories I wanted to read somewhere. Here goes the first shot with a concept I sent to etherealmins, who was kind enough to give the approval I was looking for.

WORD COUNT: 1731

Date time, though were scarce, were treasured and longed for by the two of you.

They’re carefully planned, checking the empty slots on the calendar hanging by the kitchen door, checking again to make sure they remained empty throughout the weeks prior. It wasn’t unusual to find the two of you discussing the plans over and over again, adding details, searching new ways to do old ideas, letting the excitement for even 1, 2 hours together squeezed in between busy schedules built into expectation.

Also, they often started way before the date itself, the bubbling anticipation for the hours to come displayed on the small grins and lingering gazes full of adoration perceived through reflexion on the mirror above the bathroom sink while standing side by side. Rooftop picnic, stargazing outside town, dinner with reservations… They all stared, almost sacredly, on the meticulous preparation for the little escapade, when you’re applying an extra layer of lipstick or he’s adjusting the cufflinks you got him on your second anniversary.

That’s where you can be found now, silver bangles and bracelets jangling on the moving arm responsible to hold the mascara brush whilst mouth lays agape humming along the soothing sound echoing from the bedroom. Stuck in the peacefulness of the moment, eyes glued on the reflected task, the senses fail to acknowledge a new presence shyly invading the ambient. Only when leaning back into a proper standing position you’re able to catch by the corner of your eyes his fidgeting figure cuffing and uncuffing his dress shirt, widening the collar opening only to button a few sets again.

Basking in the buzzing feeling of his presence, it takes more than just a while to notice the uneasiness flashing as an outdoor sign across his pitch-black orbs. What doesn’t take long though, is the worry that settles within when eyes fall upon the awkward movements of his fingers against his shirt’s fabric, this one getting crumped by the second. As a small smile forms on marsala lips, you turn his direction and slowly make your way to him, carefully not to disturb even more his obviously unsettled track of thoughts. Your hands move naturally to rest on his chest once he’s in reach and his own come to a halt only to leave his shirt and wrap around your hips instead, thumbs absently moving in circles as if to calm himself.

“What is up in that big brain of yours?” Your voice is barely a whisper, but you know he’s heard from how his hands tighten around you.

And then he smiles. The award-winning, heart-warming gummy smile that swooned you from day one and you almost let it distract you from how his eyes focus on everything but yours. Almost.

“Hey, talk to me… If you don’t want to g-“ He doesn’t even let you finish the sentence before he is frantically shaking his head. You let out a breath probably stuck on your throat for even thinking about calling out the date while still searching for what might be disturbing your lover boy.

“It’s kinda dumb, really…” He starts, but then his right hand rises to the back of his head and you know he’s going to need a little more coaxing to start opening up.

Silently, your eyes plead for his racing mind to stop as your hands reach for his and fall on his chest with intertwined fingers.

“C’mon,” You whisper looking into his eyes intensely to assure there’s nothing to worry about “Just use words, I’m sure there are plenty that can do the work…”

He scoffs at your words, but a fading pink starts to bloom on his pale cheeks and a smile falls on constantly chapped lips.

“Remember the photoshoot for the last album?” You nod, uncertainly as to why he is bringing it up, and he continues “You spent almost a month after the pictures were released talking about how much you loved everything about them, but mostly about how much you liked how Noonas did my hair.”

He didn’t need to explain further which shoot he was referring to. You could picture it perfectly on your mind.

Yoongi never really showed much of the projects for Bangtan before the official releasing date. You’d get to listen unfinished melodies he was still figuring out, here and there listen to a semi-polished song that was rejected from the album and sometimes read some verses when he wanted your opinion. But never a official thing. Like concept pictures.

He seemed really excited about the new album as well as the other boys, to such a extend you could feel it would be amazing. To say you were anxious about it would be an understatement. However, it didn’t matter how much you anticipated them, the photoshoots announcing the group’s new phase got you completely by surprise.

It looked like they were trying to bring a nostalgic vibe to it, all concepts were old fashioned and high class, still holding a boyish appeal to them. And Yoongi was specially stunning in every single one. Sure, you knew he looks like he stopped aging at his twenties and you certainly knew his gummy smile made him look tiny and dainty, but you can swear you’ve never seen well-produced pictures for his group in which he looked so much like a joyful rich boy.

Everything was perfect, from the outfit to the wide grin he was displaying, but what really gave Yoongi a headache from how much you talked about it was his hair. It was in natural colour after a long time, dark locks of silken hair styled in subtle waves bringing a flow to it. Maybe you were just hyped from the expectations, maybe it really was the cherry-on-top, what you knew was you loved that hair and it broke your heart to never see it in the flesh.

You’ve begged him to style like that at least once, just for your own pleasure, only for him to stare at you in amusement or laugh at what he called “cute whines”. He never gave in, so you just stopped asking. The shoot was still you homescreen, a daily reminder of how soft and precious your lover boy was.

He knew how deep run your love and adoration for the specific hairstyle and yet, up until now, acknowledgement was as far as you got.

Well…

“Well... I asked if they could teach me how to recreate it, but I’m not sure if I’m handling the curling iron right… Could you, ya know, give me a hand?”

You blink once. Then twice. And then you let out an overly excited squeal followed by giggles from his part.

“Yes! Oh God, yes! Why didn’t you say it already?! C’mon, let’s move to the bedroom, shall we?” You say in a suggestive tone, earning a full laugh as the two of you make the way through the door “You know the iron must be on, right?”

***

The soft beats from his playlist fill the silence while you work on his hair, both comfortably placed in the middle of the bed. Yoongi’s instructions turn out to be only two or three tips on how the mousse should be applied and how big each strand must be for the curl to be subtle, making the task in hand much easier than you once expected (oh if only you knew…).

While focused on mastering the style, his long fingers draw absently on the exposed skin of your things laying on each side of him. Short nails scratching gently, as if to mark quietly his presence, to state he was still there.

“I think it’s done…” You say after almost half an hour, hands busy carefully turning the machinery off.

He moves to face you quietly, just as you set aside the hair mousse on his side table, waiting for your attention to fall on him.

“So…” He tries in a hushed tone “Is it any good?”

His hand fly to his neck, nail digging in the nape. He waits attentively for your opinion.

You take good a look at him, eyes scanning his figure, and it couldn’t be more different from the shoot. The hair was definitively there, but everything else didn’t match. Starting from his outfit, the plain black colour staining from the matted material of his shoelace and belt to the tailoring pants and the dress shirt give off a far darker and grave feeling to him, making you question for a second how on earth he manages his duality so well. His face is also make-up free, the signs on left cheek and on “boopable” nose visible and waiting to be smooched. The big grin is now replaced by shy side smile and expectant eyes.

You let out a dreamy sigh. That’s your lover boy, right before you.

It suddenly hits you, doesn’t matter how much you wanted – no, scratch that, how much you longed to see the manifestation of said photoshoot in the flash, your boy always delivered something way better. Because it’s himself. Because it’s reality and you could feel it in the totality of your senses, from the pine fragrance to the smooth skin.

Caught in a daze, you move forward to straddle his thighs and connect your lips to his in a hurried but pretty assertive act. The marsala colour once staining your lips comes to leave an imprint on his lips, cheeks and neck during your audacious pursuit of claiming every bit of skin presented to you. Mouth moves in a passionate stupor not to leave anything unattended.

“It’s perfect Min Yoongi,” You mumble once a space was created between you, eyes never leaving his lips now swollen and smeared in lipstick “You’re always perfect Gi… I don’t know how I managed to hit the jackpot getting someone like you to be with me…”

***

You arrived twenty minutes late to your reservations, the hostess makes sure to press it on you by the disapproval stare she casts on the two of you while leading the way to the table, but the time was well used. There was no chance you’d be getting your boy walk out the door without basking him in all the love and adoration he deserved, particularly when he was looking so perfect for your own pleasure and it alone. Your perfect lover boy.

[mahalzevran]

DA 20+ Questions

Tagged by @antivan-surana​ thanks! Tagging @situationnormal​ @the-dread-doggo​ @acepavus​ @aroundofgwent​ @lakambaeni​ @kxnways​ @fuckbioware​ (no pressure ofc) and anyone who wants to?

The rest is under a read more because it’s long

01) Favourite game of the series?

Origins, only because you got less and less op as a mage as the games went on. I love all the games tbh.

02) How did you discover Dragon Age?

My friend got my sister into it. They kept talking and talking about it so finally I was like “ok lets see what the big deal is” and here I am now

03) How many times you’ve played the games?

I’ve done Origins twice fully, DA2 four times fully (omg I didn’t realize this until now lol) and DA:I just once fully. I have one unfinished playthrough of Origins with a Cousland, and I’m in the middle of maybe two of DA:I. I think I’ve gone back and replayed certain parts of both Origins and DA:I plenty of times.

04) Favourite race to play as?

Elf I guess? Though I’ve only fully played as a human and elf. I’m in the middle of a dwarf playthrough and I’m thinking of doing a qunari one in the future. It might change idk.

I just really liked playing as an elf in Origins so that’s why I got into elves. But the funny thing is, I wasn’t even thinking of playing as an elf when I played for the first time. I wanted to play as a human. I just did it on a whim.

05) Favourite class?

Mage, hands down. Realistically, they’re the most versatile class. They can do range and melee since anyone can learn how to fight with weapons. But the last two games won’t let you so :)

Also, this stems from the fact that I’ve been a harry potter fan since I could remember.

06) Do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time?

In my full, proper playthroughs that I’ve finished, it’s slightly different but still the same basic ideas. Sided with mages, agreed with Anders, etc.

But I am planning to try an evil playthrough in the future so

07) Go-to adventuring group?

DA:O (I have two)

Leliana, Wynne, Shale - the OG crew; they were my main crew in my first playthrough and it was a pretty even party

Zevran, Leliana, Alistair - the elf crew; esp. with Rhian they’re all elves because I saw a theory that Leliana is half elf and I’m down

DA2

It’s a mixed bag. If I’m not playing as a mage, I usually take Anders a lot because we need a healer and Merrill can’t heal. I tend not to take Sebastian as much after I max his friendship. After Sebastian, I take Aveline the least. Other than that I just mix it up. Unless I’m romancing someone, then I take them every time.

I’d love to take Anders, Fenris, and Merrill out more often but I hate how mean they all are to each other (looking @ u bioware 👀)

DA:I

My first playthrough, I mixed it up a lot in the beginning but then I ended up bringing Solas, Cole, and Blackwall a lot near the end for some reason?

I love taking Vivienne, Dorian, and Solas out, especially if I’m playing a mage, because it’s such a pretty fireworks show

In general though, if I’m romancing someone I take them with me almost always.

08) Which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

I think it’s a tie between Rhian and Lu.

09) Favourite romance?

To no one’s surprise, it’s Zevran :3

Solas is second because I just really like that angst.

10) Have you read any of the comics/books?

I’ve read The Silent Grove, Those Who Speak, and Until We Speak (because someone gifted me the Omnibus) and The Calling.

I also have Hard in Hightown, which I should probably read lol, and the art book of inquisition.

11) If you read them, which was your favourite book?

The Calling solely because of my mom Fiona and my dad Duncan. 

12) Favourite DLCs?

Awakening because I love everyone and its also really funny that Rhian, who is 19 at that point, had to basically babysit people older than her and also run a whole arling.

I love both Legacy and Mark of the Assassin. Mark of the Assassin was really funny (though I hated the stealth part). I love Legacy specifically because when I was fighting Corypheus, both Varric and Anders K.O.’d and it was just me and Carver. It was a special family moment bringing down a whole entire magister together. I also hc that that was canon and it brought Kaia and Carver closer together.

13) Things that annoy you.

I’m gonna talk about the game bc if this is about the fandom, then that’s a whole other thing.

Anders’ writing for one. It doesn’t make sense that he’d approve of giving Fenris back to Danarius. And also that he wouldn’t tell f!Hawke that he’s bi? Then there’s the fact that Anders, Fenris, and Merrill all don’t get along when they have a lot in common.

Anything that was written by Lukas Krisdkjsdhkdk. Aveline, Sera, etc. he did a really bad job.

Also didn’t like that mages got less OP in the last two games.

There’s also the tone-deafness? Dorian, a brown man, saying slavery is ok. And also there’s the dialogue between Solas and Vivienne where Solas supposedly “owns” Vivienne. I think he says something like “may you learn”? Solas, a white person, saying this to Vivienne, a black woman, when there’s obvious colorism in Thedas? I think not.

There’s probably other but I can’t think of them right now.

14) Orlais or Ferelden?

Orlais is too snooty and Ferelden doesn’t season their food. I pick Seheron and Laysh because that’s where the Asians are at.

15) Templars or mages?

Mages

16) If you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

Originally, my canonverse was Rhian, Kaia, and Luwalhati. Alden and Bolin were part of an AU. Then Alden finagled his way in there, then I decided to have Bolin in there too. So now i have twin Hawkes and Bolin is part of the Inquisition (if he’s a companion or not, I haven’t thought about)

I have plenty of other OCs that I’m planning on, but they’re currently sorted into a different universe.

17) What did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

Pikamon for the Origins mabari. It’s a mix between the names of my two dogs, Pikachu and Cinnamon

Cinnachu for the DA2 mabari, also a mix of Pikachu and Cinnamon.

Lu’s mount is the royal sixteen (hart), which is given to you by Clan Lavellan if you manage to keep them alive iirc, and its name is Luntian, the tagalog word for green which is her favorite color. (In a teen!Lu AU, her mount is the bog unicorn bc she’s an edgelord)

18) Have you installed any mods?

It would be more surprising if I didn’t. How else would I manage to have my characters look like the’re poc?? And also get rid of whitewashing and have some continuity. I usually just do cosmetic mods if it’s my first playthrough. Then I do like “cheats” after I finish the game fully.

Fun fact, I once spent like 2+ hrs modding Origins to have the Zev romance the way I want. I also stayed up until like 5am trying to make Solas look like his concept art lol (it didn’t really work)

19) Did your Warden want to become a Grey Warden?

Rhian didn’t not want to become a warden. She read about them and thought they were an honorable order, but she didn’t expect to ever have a chance to become one. Her goal was to just go up in the Circle hierarchy, maybe even become First Enchanter. Then when the time came, she didn’t really have much of a choice.

20) Hawke’s personality?

Kaia is blue and Alden is purple

21) Did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquisition?

At first, I didn’t get what the big deal was with crafting. It didn’t seem fun at all lol. Then I tried it and was hooked. I don’t have them matching, but I do tend to try to match my Inquisitor with their LI in some way.

My usual procedure for armor in Inquisition is like this. I make everyone wear heavy armor and pick the materials that have the highest attributes, not caring how ridiculous the colors are. Then I go to tint them using a guide for each companion’s color scheme. This is the same for helmet but I usually have them turned off or have no one wearing one.

The only exception is Varric, Cole, and Blackwall. I have Varric wear the rogue armor that looks like his DA2 outfit, and Cole and Blackwall wear the Grey Warden heavy armor. I tint the grey warden armor using a guide for its color scheme.

I have Bull, Vivienne, and Cole wear their unique helmets.

22) If your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

Rhian - She’d probably want to re-do how she told Zevran that she wasn’t exactly dead.

Kaia - Taken Quentin’s threat more seriously and killed him before he got to Leandra

Alden - He has no regrets

Luwalhati - wouldn’t have taken Sam and Wis with her so they wouldn’t have had to have died in the conclave explosion

Bolin - None, all of his decisions led him to Dorian and he’s happy with that.

23) Do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

They’re all at least part Seheron?

I also hc that neither Carver nor Bethany die because Kaia was able to cast a barrier on both of them before the ogre got them. Then they both became Grey Wardens because Carver contracted the taint in the expedition and wouldn’t join the Wardens unless Bethany came with him too.

Another hc I have is that Sebastian didn’t leave when Anders was spared and stayed to help out. But he went his separate way after because he still didn’t approve of sparing him.

Oh shoot, I almost forgot. The most against canon thing I’ve done probably? Rhian didn’t do the Ritual but she did slay the archdemon without dying. Rhian’s an arcane warrior, so when she slayed it, she was partway in the fade. Being partway into the fade was enough for her essence, I guess, to survive it. But she’s not mortal anymore and kind of a spirit now? So she periodically has to chill in the fade because being in the real world takes a toll on her.

25) Who did you leave in the Fade?

In the game, it was Stroud. I killed Loghain and no way is Alistair gonna be trapped in there. Fiona will be sad. So I made Alistair king in the game only, so Stroud was the one that was left.

This is another off canon thing I did. In my actual canon, Alistair is the warden contact. The Hawke that comes to the Inquisition is both Kaia and Alden. Alden brings Fenris with him because he doesn’t go anywhere without his Boo-Boo. Bethany and Carver also come because Weisshaupt was being weird and it seemed like they would be safer in the Inquisition. Lu + her party, Alistair, Kaia, Alden, Fenris, Bethany, and Carver all come to Adamant. Because there’s so many people, everyone was able to escape the Fade. No one is left behind.

26) Favourite mount? The nugs! All of them :) 

Though I don’t really use the mounts lol

[comebackbehere23]

“Hey, I have to go.”

Cheryl scowls as Toni approaches her, “Excuse me?”

“Official Serpents meeting or something. Normally, I’d be okay with skipping but FP called it and he almost never calls a meeting.” Toni explains in a breathless tone. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“TT, you can’t miss a Vixens practice…”

“You can just show me the moves later on. Give me a private show.” Toni smirks, and Cheryl shudders in silent anticipation. “I promise this won’t happen again. I’ll see you at home.”

“Fine.”

Cheryl tries to stay angry, but she can’t when Toni’s lips nuzzle against the corner of her mouth. Just like every time before, Cheryl settles as she presses her blunt nails into the material of Toni’s practice shorts. She hates when Toni leaves for meetings, she knows exactly what meetings are. It means that later on she’s going to be cleaning cuts and icing bruises, it means a late night of pacing through Thistlehouse and counting down the minutes. It means that there’s a chance that her girlfriend won’t be returned to her at all, and that thought makes her heart split and her skin crawl.

“Take me with you.” Cheryl orders.

Toni tenses in her arms, “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re…I can’t.” Toni replies as she pulls away from Cheryl. “You know I can’t. Please, Cher. Don’t ask me to put you in danger ever again, alright?”

“You’re always with them.” Cheryl snaps.

“Because they’re my family. Besides you, they’re all I have. They raised me.” Toni whispers. “I know this isn’t ideal, but this is my life. Please don’t try to change that.”

Cheryl sighs heavily, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll see you soon.”

The other Vixens mill around and watch as Toni grabs her bag and disappears from the gym. Cheryl can already feel the eyes on her and she knows what they’re all thinking, they’re waiting for her to explode or to explain why she has a soft spot for their newest cheerleader. But she won’t. It doesn’t concern them. So, Cheryl channels her frustration and takes it out on the other girls; their drills are run until they’re perfect, they run twice as many laps, and one girl literally bursts into tears of excitement when Cheryl finally allows them to leave.

By the time she’s in the shower, her entire mind churns with questions she constantly asks herself. Questions she wants to ask Toni. She wants to know everything there is to know about her girlfriend, she wants to know how she became who she is. She wants to know why Sweet Pea guards her, why she shows up in Fangs flannels sometimes, and why it’s damn near impossible to pull them apart. They’re attached at the hip, and Cheryl has found that Fangs and Sweet Pea have pretty much moved into her guest rooms.

Cheryl doesn’t understand them, she hasn’t had a connection like they do. Not even with Jason. Sweet Pea looks at Toni like she holds every answer in the world and Fangs listens to Toni like her voice is a delicate as a sirens. Sometimes Cheryl can’t stand it, it makes her ache in an unfamiliar way. She never has had to share before, even when she was young and Jason was alive, their parents away bought two of everything. But Toni? There’s no way to split her in half or find something to occupy her Serpent family. Nope, Cheryl has just learned to share.

“Stupid meetings.” Cheryl huffs.

The locker room is empty and she’s alone when her phone goes off, and she’s a little ashamed by how fast she dives for it. As soon as she sees Toni’s contact information, her heart soars and her breath catches. She’s always afraid of this part, of opening the text and seeing whether or not it’s from FP telling her to meet them at some rundown shack so she can pick up a concussed Toni. All she wants is her girlfriend back, she just wants to kiss her and leave marks where others can’t see.

My Queen: On my way home to you.

And Cheryl breathes a sigh of relief.

-

Cheryl hates Jughead.

Every time she sees him, she feels sick to her stomach. She sees him and remembers that stupid USB with that stupid video. She remembers how cruel he was, and it reminds her of how much she wants to sock him in the face. But she doesn’t. Cheryl stays silent because Toni adores Jughead, she thinks he’s just the best thing in Riverdale. If only Toni knew, Cheryl would love to see what her overprotective girlfriend would do to Jughead then.

“Babe, Pop’s tonight or did…oh. Jughead.” Cheryl pauses and rolls her eyes. “I didn’t know we were having company.”

Jughead scoffs, “You aren’t. I’m here for Toni.”

“Don’t be an ass.” Toni snaps as she glares at Jughead before her soft brown eyes gleam Cheryl’s way. “So, Pop’s?”

“We’ll discuss it when we don’t have a homeless vampire sitting on our couch.” Cheryl chirps, and Toni simply laughs under her breath. “So, what are we talking about?”

“Nothing.”

Toni shrugs and looks up at Cheryl, “Just about something he and Betty are looking into. He was asking me for some advice.”

“Advice?” Cheryl repeats as she drops onto the couch opposite the pair.

“It doesn’t concern you, don’t worry about it. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I’m done.” Jughead assures her as he glares at Cheryl. “Anyway, as I was saying, Betty and I found a lead for the Black Hood.”

“Oh.” Toni frowns.

“Betty and I are planning to do some investigating about his hideout.” Jughead begins, and Toni arches an eyebrow. “We’re planning to look around Southside and you know the area better than us. Would you mind giving us a hand?”

Toni hesitates, “I…”

“No. Absolutely not.” Cheryl cuts in, and she folds her arms over her chest as two pairs of wide eyes look to her. “I’m not going to let you rope Toni into one of your stupid Murder She Wrote investigations. She doesn’t need to…”

“I didn’t ask if you were okay with it.” Jughead scoffs.

Cheryl bares her teeth at him for a moment, “I don’t care. She’s my girlfriend and I know how your little missions go, you’ll save yourself and your precious Corpse Bride and leave Toni to fend for herself. Not happening.”

“Toni has a mind of her own. She’s a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.” Jughead snaps as he rolls his eyes.

“I never said she can’t make her own decisions, but this is something I know she’ll agree with me on. The entire town knows about how you and Betty work.” Cheryl sneers. “Toni has enough on her plate with the Serpents, she doesn’t need to add Nancy Drew to her list.”

“She’s right, Jug.” Toni sighs, and she hears Cheryl’s hum of approval just over Jughead’s scoff. “I already cause her enough stress with Serpent business, I shouldn’t add to it.”

“I would keep you safe…”

“I’m sure you would, but I can’t.” Toni whispers.

“But…”

Cheryl hisses in frustration, “She said no, Hot Topic. Would you like to buy a vowel? Phone a friend? Get a clue?”

“Cher.” Toni scolds. “Stop.”

“I think I should probably go.” Jughead mumbles as he stands to grab his jacket. “I guess I’ll see you at tomorrow’s meeting.”

Cheryl continues to seethe as Toni walks Jughead out. By the time he’s gone, Cheryl is up and pacing; she isn’t sure why she feels like this, like she has splinters in her chest and they’re leaving marks in her heart. She feels like she can’t breathe. She’s just so mad. Jughead has no concept of understanding when people tell him no, when people don’t agree to go along with his barely thought out plan. He doesn’t care, and that’s what frustrates Cheryl the most.

“Wanna tell me what that was about?”

“He’s an ass.” Cheryl scoffs as she turns to face the woman leaning her hip against the arm of the nearby couch. “Promise me you won’t help him look for the Black Hood.”

“Cheryl…”

“Promise me, Toni.” Cheryl pleads.

Toni sighs and ducks her head, “He was talking to me while I walked him out, he wants to get the other Serpents involved. If he does, there’s nothing I can do. I can’t abandon them.”

“So, am I just supposed to sit at home and stay quiet? Pretend my girlfriend isn’t out doing things that could get her arrested or killed?” Cheryl asks with sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Am I supposed to relive the night Sweet Pea called me after you were stabbed?”

“Baby, I know this is…”

“Insane? Ridiculous? Horrible? Just let me know if I’m getting warmer on my description of your so called gang activity.” Cheryl growls. “How am I supposed to just…accept this?”

Toni hangs her head, “They took me in when my uncle kicked me out, they gave me couches to sleep on and protection. I can’t just abandon them, Cheryl. I can’t. They’re…”

“I understand. They’re your family. I get it. We’ve talked about it a million times.” Cheryl cuts in as she lifts a hand. “But you have two families now, Toni. I want to build a future with you, but you have to be alive for it to happen.”

Toni pauses in shock, “Yo-You want a life with me?”

“Toni, you are my life. I love you so much.” Cheryl whispers as she crosses the room to gently cup Toni’s face. “You know that, right?”

“I do. I love you, too.” Toni murmurs as she nuzzles into Cheryl’s palm. “You’re right. I do have two families and it’s time I start acknowledging that. I’m sorry, Cher.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Cheryl hums as she tilts Toni’s chin up slowly. “Will you just kiss me so this argument can end?”

Toni chuckles as their lips meet, “Best way to end argument ever.”

-

“White or pink?”

“I’m thinking white tonight. Make sure you put it on some ice.” Cheryl calls over her shoulder. “Go ahead and pull two bottles.”

“Two? Why, Ms. Blossom, are you hoping that a little wine will sway me into bed with you?” Toni smirks as she sets the wine bottles on the counter. “Because if so, you are most definitely right.”

Cheryl giggles and shakes her head, “I could offer you a chocolate chip cookie crumb and you’d still crawl into bed with me.”

“I love nights like this.” Toni grins as she slides behind Cheryl to peer over her shoulder. “You know, the nights when you cook dinner and we have a little jazz playing…”

“First of all, stop calling Sam Smith jazz. Second of all, I always cook for you.” Cheryl points out. “And if you don’t stop stealing samples then we’re not going to have any dinner. Go eat something else.”

Toni smirks, “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Yes. My favorite.” Toni hisses, and Cheryl laughs in surprise as teeth dig playfully into her shoulder. “Mm, so much better than pasta.”

“TT,” Cheryl squeals. “Stop!”

“But you’re so delicious and you told me to find something else to eat.” Toni pouts as she reluctantly pulls away. “You’re so mean.”

Cheryl laughs softly as Toni wanders off to pick up her buzzing phone. As soon as she sees the smile on Toni’s face drop, the entire atmosphere changes. She knows exactly what her girlfriend is looking at, another text requesting her presence for a meeting. With a sigh, Cheryl goes back to straining the last of the pasta as she mentally tries to prepare herself for yet another late night dinner with just herself and that stupid cat. She silently wonders if Blossom would eat pasta, she wonders if she can even get him to pull himself out of his hiding spot in the closet up in the guest room.

“Where’s my stepstool?”

Cheryl frowns, “What?”

“My stepstool.” Toni repeats as she looks around with a frown. “You put the wine glasses on a shelf higher than I can reach. I thought we discussed this, I am vertically challenged. I can’t…”

“You’re not leaving?” Cheryl demands.

“What?” Toni frowns.

“You got a text.”

“Okay? I told them I can’t be there.” Toni shrugs. “I’m not missing out on dinner with my girl just because they need me to play juror.”

Cheryl bites her lower lip, “Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely positive.” Toni beams, but her smile quickly falls away as her brow furrows. “Now, where is my stepstool?”

Toni walks away and Cheryl smiles brightly to herself as she turns back to their dinner; suddenly, their quiet night in seems a thousand times better.

[blackosprey]

Yo I’m bored

And I wanna make a list of all the Nier Automata machines’ namesakes, because I love trivia, I love philosophy, and I love this game.

Marx and Engels

As you probably guessed, they’re named after Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, best known for their collaborative work, the Communist Manifesto. I don’t really have any solid theories on why a bucket buzzsaw and an oil rig transformer got names like that, maybe because industry/industrial things are important to communism according to the book? I dunno, it’s been a while.

Beauvoir

Most seem to call her “the opera boss.” She seems to be named after Simone de Beauvoir, a French philosopher who delved into existentialism as well as gender and feminism. 

Interestingly, the machine who Beauvoir is infatuated with, Jean-Paul, is named after Jean-Paul Sartre, a fellow existentialist and lifelong lover of the real-life Beauvoir. Machine Jean-Paul even quotes his namesake when you first speak to him: “Existence precedes essence.”

Pascal

Most likely named after Blaise Pascal, French mathematician and theological writer. Dude didn’t even live to 40 but he still managed to leave his mark with a couple theorems, early functioning calculators, and the famous Wager about how believing in God is logically less risky and more potentially rewarding than doing otherwise. As a Christian, it’s pretty likely the human Pascal would have dismissed Nietzsche as a guy “skipping profound and jumping straight to crazy” as well. 

Interestingly, Pascal’s Wager comes from  the Pensées, a book left unfinished due to Pascal’s death. You’re given this very book to take to machine Pascal, but never end up delivering it since his village is slaughtered soon after. 

In addition to all that, Pascal is also a form of programming language as well as a unit for the measurement of internal stress or pressure. Could be references to how Pascal the machine is exceptionally eloquent and intelligent, and suffice to say, he’s under quite a lot of stress by route C.

Ernst

The Forest King is probably named after Ernst Bloch, another Marxist philosopher. He was best known for writing “The Principle of Hope,” which explores the idea of utopia, a concept that this machine tried to create by forming a kingdom as a “utopia for machines.”

Immanuel 

The baby Forest King, probably named after Immanuel Kant, the guy responsible for Kantian ethics. Given how frustrating that set of ethics can be, and how convoluted Kant is when it comes to explaining himself, I’d wanna skewer his machine representation too. 

On a side note, the image of a swaddled baby in a crib sort of reminds me of the typical depiction of baby Jesus, another king of sorts who was also called Immanuel.

Grün

After going nuts and attacking everything, including ally machines, this dark colossus was exiled deep into the ocean. In similar fashion, radical socialist philosopher/activist Karl Grün was exiled for his shenanigans. Twice actually. 

Kierkegaard

The robo cult leader is probably named after Danish philosopher and theologian  Søren Kierkegaard, one of the first to delve into existentialism. Human Kierkegaard, to sum it up, wrote a metric fuckton about everything Christian. Interestingly, he became disgusted with the Church as a government institution, believing that mixing in politics caused the religion to deteriorate into nothing more than a casual trend full of hypocrites. 

Kierkegaard apparently emphasized use of one’s consciousness, and the term “leap of faith” is commonly attributed to him. Though I doubt he’d approve of leaping into vats of molten metal...

So-Shi and Boku-Shi

(Boku-Shi looks identical except he’s got cannons instead of blade arms lol)

Named after the Japanese pronunciations of Chinese philosophers Zhuangzi and Mozi. 

Zhuangzi is credited for writing the manuscript that bears his name. It’s mostly a collection of fables and poetry that dismiss human perception of things like good and evil or life and death, emphasizing a sort of carefree wandering approach to existence. 

Mozi is known for opposing the philosophy of Confucianism, advocating self-restraint and reflection over obedience to established order. 

Honestly I have no clue why they would have these names because all they did was attack me in a factory and electrify a pond in the most not-carefree and unrestrained fashion possible.

Hegel

Fun fact: while researching, this guy’s name kept coming up either as influence or inspiration for a bunch of different people. He had a firm-held belief in the freedom of mankind and their self-determination and influenced the likes of Nietzsche, Marx, and made way for psychoanalysis and existentialism. ... this guy seems important but it’s 3am and I’m trying to do a brief analysis here...

Auguste and Friedrich

Big brother and a buncha little brothers, the former named after Auguste Comte, a guy who was seriously put off by the French Revolution and tried to introduce positivism to help. He’s credited with coining the term “altruism.”

The latter is probably named after Friedrich Nietzsche. Nihilism, God is dead, etc, tbh I’m still not sure what the heck was going on with this whole sequence in the game to say anything about this, other than that I’m sort of amused that Nietzsche makes his cameo with a bucket on his head.

  Ko-Shi and Ro-Shi

Named after the Japanese pronunciations for Confucius and the Taoist Laozi respectively. 

tl;dr: you get to beat up Confucianism and Taoism at the same time! 

[artafrd]

My A-KON 2018 experience.

Greetings everyone! I know that this technically isn't new, but it occurred to me that I haven't told everyone about my previous project. I'm sure everyone is dying to know.

 A few months ago, my fabulous boyfriend Jace invited me to go to A-kon with him in Fort Worth Texas.

 At these conventions, they have cosplay contests.  In these, you can either enter as a walk on (think, runway modeling for nerds) OR a skit. Obviously, I chose the skit. What can I say, I'm just a sucker for performing.

 First step was to decide who to go as. I made a short list, but soon I chose Alice in Wonderland. Because I would make an awesome Alice. Plus, I've always wanted to do a wonderland themed dance.

 Next step: Music. This was a full weekend project. First thing I did was decide on a song. It took about an hour to decide I definitely had no choice but to do Sweet Dreams (are made of this). Obviously. I spent HOURS listening to covers, remixes, whatever I could find. I couldn't settle on one song, so I took 3 different versions and mashed them into one living breathing thing. I liked it, but it needed something more.  I decided to take actual audio from the movie and sprinkle it on top. (During this whole process I was showing my dad my progress and asking his opinion. When I added the quotes, I could tell by his reaction I had nailed it. Thanks, dad.)

When I had finally finished the music, I sent it in to be approved. The cut off limit for skits was 3 minutes. ...my song was 2 minutes and 58 seconds.

(Here is a link if you want to hear it! )

 Next step, a concept. Obviously, with this song I wanted to do something inspired by the idea of Alice's descent into madness. Mom and I started throwing out ideas about having a costume that transforms during the performance. I loved the idea. I started doing some sketches.

 Then, CHOREOGRAPHY. 2:58 minutes worth of it. What have I done?? I knew I wanted to go from a classic, cute little ballet thing like the “classic” Alice, then morph it into creepy contemporary for the “mad” Alice. It took months to finish. I was working in a roughly 30 by 25 foot room, also. This means I couldn't do it full out until I went home where I could use the dance studio. After many sore muscles, frustrated chorio sessions, and help from my dad when I was stuck, I got it done.

 The costume itself didn't take very long. When Mom came up to WV, we sat down and came up with a little tear away dress and a leotard with a torn up skirt. It worked flawlessly.

 I get down to Arkansas and only have a very short amount of time to practice full out. Maybe a week. Lots and lots of hard work. I was actually really scared that I couldn't make it all the way to the end of the dance. It was so high energy and high difficulty for nearly 3 minutes! It was considered a good practice when I could make it through the whole thing once or twice. Katie, mom, Jace and miss Patty were very helpful and encouraging. I'm so grateful to have them.

 The convention finally comes around! I get signed in for the contest. I meet a couple people who I was gonna be going against. I start getting a little nervous.

 Later that evening they had a roll call and the line up. The walk on went first, then the skits. Surprise, I was the very last contestant.

  Waiting to go on, I started marking the dance. Soon I realized my shoes were going to slide off if I didn't do something about it. I talk to Jace, and we decided to maybe attach the shoes to my stockings. In a room full of cosplayers, it took about half a second to get a needle and thread after Jace shouted what we needed.

 Jace was such a trooper through the whole thing, I was so nervous I would bite his shoulders or hands or arms. He didn't like it very much, but it helped. Haha. Eventually he got me ice to chew on.

 Soon it was finally time. I was so nervous. When I started, I didn't get much applause so I thought everyone hated it. The change in choreography, music and costume surprised everyone and they were all roaring. I was SO relieved. Through the rest of the dance, everybody loved it. I made it through the entire dance, even after hitting my head on the stage.

 Jace had been videoing the whole thing (so my family didn't murder him) from right next to the stage. As soon as I got off he was right there with praise and hugs and kisses. I was so happy. We got back stage and my adrenaline rush crashed. I was shaking all over and hitting my head didn't help, so he carried me into the room all the contestants were kept. I'm pretty sure he got boyfriend of the year award as soon as he walked through the door with me in his arms. Everyone was being so nice!! I'm so happy that I got to participate with all of those sweet people. We came in and they all applauded. I was blown away, honestly.

I ended up getting second place in skits! I was very happy. The group who won were telling me they had decided if they lost to me, they would be perfectly okay with it. That was honestly the nicest thing to say. They deserve it.

Walking around the convention, I suddenly had a few fans. I was known as THE Alice. It was really cool.

Definitely an awesome experience.

[otnesse]

Might as well post this regarding Linda Woolverton based on something that she said a little while back.

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/la-et-mn-linda-woolverton-alice-through-the-looking-glass-20160523-snap-story.html

In particular, something she said in the article really irritated me, which is the following in regards to the so-called Disney Princess culture:

"'I grew up in that princess culture,' Woolverton said. 'I remember feeling very incensed that the men would retire to the library and talk about interesting things and the women and girls were supposed to be over here baking and sewing. We weren't supposed to be thinkers or philosophers.'"

Okay, first of all, Woolverton, I'm pretty sure that is NOT the Princess culture (in fact, technically, the Disney Princess culture didn't even EXIST at the time she's referring to, as the only three movies that existed of Disney Princesses were Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. The Little Mermaid had yet to exist, let alone Beauty and the Beast and others, heck, the idea of an interconnected franchise regarding those characters like Disney Princess was not even an idea yet.). In fact, I don't recall it EVER being implied in the movies that women were not supposed to be thinkers or philosophers at all. Far from it, Cinderella at least was actually shown to have studied history if her naming one of the mice after Emperor Octavian, or more accurately, his nickname of Gus, is of any indication. So don't conflate your experiences with the princess culture.

Which brings me up to my next point: Don't imply that what you described was even widespread enough to be a culture, or that women during that time weren't allowed to be thinkers or philosophers, or even allowed to enter libraries. Sure, maybe YOU have personal experience regarding that bit, but that doesn't mean it was even remotely widespread enough to qualify as a culture, since it's unlikely that most common Americans at the time, heck, most common Californians even, had that experience you did (or various people in the world, for that matter). Actually since it was mentioned earlier in that article that during her childhood she learned to tie knots on the family's 45-foot boat and often went sailing there, she's actually closer to one of the more wealthy citizens of America at that time, meaning that DEFINITELY wasn't a common occurrence among mainstream America (for example, my parents weren't exactly slouches in terms of income or being well-off when they were children, with my dad being the son of a traveling businessman and being raised in Edina, Minnesota, and my mom being the daughter of a traveling Baseball announcer who settled down while still young at Massachusetts. However, not even THEY could afford during that time a 45-foot boat to travel the Atlantic coast or even one of the lakes of Minnesota.), or even the world for that matter. At most, this was just something your own family had as a social rule.

And here's the final point on the matter (and I learned of this yesterday): From what I gather, it was common among the upper class at the time that, around the time of dinner, the men retreat to the library in order to talk about stuff like baseball and other topics, while the women often separated to take care of dinner prep. It had more to do with a social rule among the elites, one that wasn't even embraced by all (not that my Dad's family was anywhere near the upper class, but he had a similar story: During dinner parties, the kids were often separated from the adults when they had conversations, mostly because the subject matter was simply not stuff the kids would have had the emotional maturity to deal with). Even assuming she had an actual legitimate grievance towards it, there was technically never anything stopping her from, say, actually entering the library. Sure, it's unorthodox, and not quite approved of by her class, but it's not like she'll get punished AFAIK by her parents like she would for, say, breaking curfew or refusing to clean up a mess, or that she'd get arrested for that.

I don't mind strong females by any stretch (heck, my #1 DP, Ariel, is plenty strong. And I'm also a fan of Misty from Pokémon and Samus from Metroid, both of whom were very strong females), but Linda Woolverton's attempts at strong females I do not approve of at all, especially not when she is trying to push the radical feminist agenda (and let's face it, her view of feminism and what she tried by her own admission to push onto children IS radical, from bashing the concept of marriage to such an extent in BATB that she effectively implied in the film that it was a woman's worst nightmare and that any woman who even remotely supported marriage in any way was some brainless bimbo who only falls for the town hunk, to basically bashing men by depicting them as either villains, incompetent, or doofuses like she did in BATB and Maleficent. Heck, even speaking as someone who actually has respect for the Beast, I have to admit she definitely had him poorly handled, especially in the ending where he was unable to do ANYTHING to save himself or even his servants when they were attacked, something that he was at least perfectly capable of in his old ways, unless Belle was physically present, as if Belle just castrated him.). And quite frankly, I thought you ruined Beauty and the Beast with your insistence of using that to push the feminist agenda, like Paul Verhoeven did with his pushing an anti-War agenda in Starship Troopers. Belle didn't come across as having true beauty within, and if anything those triplet sisters came far closer to that mark (to say little about their outer beauty). And there was literally nothing in common with the original tale (either version) save for the bit about Beast being cursed and her father encountering him. I'm sorry, but even the Disney version of The Little Mermaid was a lot more faithful to the source material than BATB is, and that's the one that got complained about being ruined by Disney for a changed ending (a changed ending's nothing to literally most of the entire plot being rewritten to such an extent that it came across as an in-name-only adaptation, the latter of which was BATB's problem.). Yes, several Disney films before then had significant rewrites as well, some even going as far as to be in-name-only adaptations but most of that was either due to time constraints (such as Snow White cutting out the poisoned comb bit) or otherwise trying to tone down the material due to the source material otherwise being too inappropriate for the age bracket to do a direct adaptation (eg, The Jungle Book). BATB was the first film to literally rewrite the whole film from the story it adapted from for the sake of pushing a socio-political agenda onto the masses, onto children even. And I wouldn't call that a good thing. To add insult to injury, you arguably insulted the original authors of the tale, Villeneuve and Beaumont, by having the story effectively imply that Belle was not only the only one of the village who was literate, but that she was an outcast for that reason especially due to her being female. Quite frankly, the only reason that jerk is working at Disney is thanks to Jeffrey Katzenberg insisting on a feminist twist to the story after critics complained that Ariel was "cloyingly sexist" just for the fact that she even wanted to go for Eric at all (completely ignoring, of course, that Ariel had already shown badass credentials in the very opening scene where she managed to encounter a shark and beat it, not to mention was explicitly shown to have an interest in humanity to such an extent that she already WANTED to become human long before even being aware of Prince Eric's existence, let alone meeting him face to face, or the fact that she, you know, saved Eric at least twice, and Eric returning the favor himself about that same amount.). I'd even go so far as to argue that, thanks to Katzenberg and this decision, that was the start of Disney shedding its wholesome family values reputation in favor of pushing leftist agendas that is currently plaguing the company right now.

[carousels-on-fire]

Hey guys, its been a minute. I always migrate to tumblr when I’m feeling nostalgic/sad. Therapy is too expensive (fucking Better Help was like $80/week) and my irl friends are tired of hearing about it, So I’ll ask all of you for advice instead. I mean this isn’t really a question so much as a...diatribe, but bear with me. Even though I’m relatively happy now, I still feel the need to pick at this one emotional scar. My friend Jay and I haven’t spoken to each other in two years. And, I suppose with good reason. Two years ago I told him I was tired of the emotional game, and letting him carrot and stick me for his affection and alternate talking to me like a friend with ignoring me for months with no explanation. And told him to have a nice life, effectively: “Fuck off and don’t speak to me.” with zero profanity. Sometimes I look at the smouldering ruin of the bridge I burned and wonder if it was the right choice. I even tried, a month or so ago to mend that bridge. No reply. I guess I can’t be too upset, I got what I wanted. It took me a long time to realize the relationship was always very one sided on my part. As someone with pretty severe ADHD I cling to anything that’ll give me a hit of serotonin. Sometimes that comes from movies, shows, games, concepts, and rarely people. But I’m also a hopeless romantic with a love for tragedy who clung to the idea of being in love with someone who didn’t want me and staying loyal to that possibility even when the rest of the world has moved on. Its taken a long time to see my own motivations for what they are. I’ve lived a whole decade of life around a two week relationship and a friendship that was absent and arms length more often than not. But just like my obsessions with celebrities, my obsession with a distant friend, always came crashing down when I spent enough time with them to realize my idealized version and reality were two different things. They lived a whole life two that I had no idea about, and I’m not sure now, what to do with all the hopes and dreams of that version of me that doesn’t exist anymore. I don’t know what to do with this grief for someone who’s alive but moved on. I’ve grown enough as a person, and been medicated, and worked through enough to realize my self worth isn’t tied to a relationship or whether people find me attractive. But I still miss him. Even if he did, genuinely, treat me terribly sometimes I still miss him. I don’t know what to do with that grief. I’ve grown apart from a lot of people I used to see as friends, but none of their losses hurt like this. Its like that disappointment when plans are suddenly cancelled and you  don’t know what to do with your excitement. Its like I have to put all my hopes away and accept that the thing I was looking forward to is gone. But in this case its a friendship that should have lasted a lifetime.  Twice now I’ve “broken up” with him, not because I wanted to, but because I thought maybe, just maybe it would make him stop ignoring me. A last ditch outburst to get a reaction from someone who leaves friends and lovers as easily as the cruel leave a dog at a shelter. Part of me is still angry with them  for walking away so easily. I don’t know what I expected, or why I expected it to be different this time. But that’s that I guess. No matter how much I think I’ve grown and moved past him, I’ll always check up on him, on his blogs and pages. I think I’m desperate to see if I ever made any mark on his life like he did mine. Maybe I’m angry at myself for still, still, missing him. Maybe I’m angry at myself for the years I lost to depression and the terrible coping mechanisms that probably kept me from some great relationships. The saddest part is, I’m not hurting for friends. I have dozens of people who love me. Why do I keep wanting the friendship and affection and approval of someone who’s made it quite clear they want nothing to do with me? Its like the cat who lavishes affection on the single allergic person in the room. Or maybe its  easier to fall hard platonically for someone who you don’t know at all, because you can project whatever you want on that relationship. It doesn’t come with the actual  work or upkeep of an actual relationship. I think, for a long time,  staying in that eternal ‘what if’ ‘what if they choose me’ was emotionally easier to bear than moving on and trying the terrifying thing of starting new with someone new. I have two tinder conversations I’m ignoring while I write this.  Its hard to move on from friends. I genuinely enjoyed spending time with him as a person. He’s funny and passionate and full of righteous indignation and stories so ridiculously out there they must be true. He loves animals, he’s 5′ nothing and ready to knife fight a hobo in an alley for catcalling someone. He’s the bravest ball of anxiety I’ve ever met. But he can also be distant and cruel and vindictive. But maybe his flaws aren’t mine to number.  It really does feel like mourning the dead. I don’t know what to do with this sadness or how to stop checking his socials. 

[hannahchronism]

The Chat Log™

Alright so I told myself (and Jordan) I would rewrite this into a drabble when I actually did the thing, and I am probably still going to, but not tonight because my brain isn’t working. So, if you care about my dustkids and my attempts to emotionally wreck Jordan at every turn, here’s a chat log for you (that’s actually from November, in case you’re curious about how long I’ve been sitting on this) that explains  what’s up on the Haven blog. It will be updated into a drabble at some point->

[3:46:15 AM] Hannahbal: A concept:

[3:48:50 AM] Hannahbal: Tox comes up on the safe haven after being pointed there by Tess. He crosses the fences on foot, and RKO has word to half the station before Tox is even halfway to the door, 'lone dustkid on foot. He's pretty, but he looks like fuckin' /shit/' - Phantom shoots back a comment, Vi can be heard laughing, but Lith misses out on the transmission because she left her radio in her room before holing up in the garden to teach Dawn how to harvest and use the aloe leaves.

[3:50:38 AM] Hannahbal: The first person to recognize Tox is Jack, who gives a look out of the window when he hear's RKO's early warning. At first he's dubious. All he had to go on was Phantom & Lith's story when they came to the desert, and though he trusts them, there was always so much that seemed missing from the tale. Now, he's go his suspicions, but watching the figure walk up Jack can't be sure it's really him. He races to the ground floor anyways, Colton on his hip, and storms out into the sand, daring -as always- to hope.

[3:53:31 AM] Hannahbal: The first familiar face Tox sees in fourteen months is Jack. Jack, who Tox hasn't seen since he left for the city nearly four years ago. The toddler on Jack's hip has to be the baby Tox helped deliver - it brings him up short, how long it's been and how much Colton already looks like Dusty. But then, Jack isn't slowing down, a fool grin on his lined face, and Tox only has a second to compose himself before he's wrapped in an iron strong one-armed hug. Same old Jack.

[3:55:49 AM] Hannahbal: "You're pretty spry for a dead guy" Jack laughs, but Tox can see the heavy sentiment underneath (Welcome back), feel the way his arrival has soothed a wound Jack hasn't been talking about Tox claps a hand against Jack's back, proof of his solidity "That's what they all say." (This is home)

[3:59:33 AM] Hannahbal: Jack steers Tox into the haven, content silence between them, and Tox is awed but unsurprised by this new home that Jack has built out of the desert's rejects. He spies some new faces (the one who was on guard, the little one slinking around in the corner) and some old (Vi with that churlish grin she always wears, Diana looking shocked, but tanner, brighter)  A sense of possibility hits him, looking at the faces, and then Phantom rounds the corner.

[4:04:23 AM] Hannahbal: Tox can't help it. He breaks from Jack's guidance to surge after Phantom (Nathan owes him a promise.) Before anyone knows what's happening, Tox has him pinned by the shoulders, his expression something peircing to behold. From the corner, Foxtrot exchanges a look with Vi, who has simply gone "jesus", and RKO looks like his eyes might roll out of his skull - Di seems equally startled. Des cautiously rounds a corner, perpared to back Phantom up until she realizes who that is with his hands holding fistfuls of Nathan's ratty shirt. Jack hold his son carefully away from the confrontation, surprised by a side of the compassionate young man he's never seen before, but comforted in his past familiarity with him: there's nothing, he's convinced, Tox will do that isn't just.

[4:07:33 AM] Hannahbal: Phantom's hands are up in surrender, his entire posture submissive to the warning aggression and his face unperturbed as he looks on at the friend he made within the walls of BLis city sized prison. Tox looks much the same, perhaps a little thinner, but still wide in the shoulders and, thankfully, amazingly alive. The key difference is the spark, the guttering flame ready to turn full blast. Phantom - Nathan had never seen more that a windblow ember before today, never more that a far of winking star. Now the blaze was waiting, and it was all he could do not to smile.

[4:10:23 AM] Hannahbal: Tox is not in the mood for smiling - he needs to know. Knuckles pressed firmly into the bones of Nathan's wiry shoulders, he stares the older man down. (Don't lie to me, man.) "I see Diana," he says softly, "I see Desire." Nathan nods - two members of their scattered group. "I don't see .. I don't." Tox can't say it, but the point stands. (Behind him, Jack makes a short sound, but the short glance Phantom sends shuts him hip fast. Not his business.)

[4:11:27 AM] Hannahbal: Tox grinds his teeth, pulling on Phantom's shirt before pushing him back into the thin metal wall  slowly, like a  grasp at straws of strength.

[4:12:09 AM] Hannahbal: "Did you keep your promise?" He asks, and searches so hard, so hard for the answer.

[4:12:30 AM] Hannahbal: Before Phantom ever opens his mouth, a quiet "oh!" comes from down the walkway.

[4:13:57 AM] Hannahbal: Dawn and Lith have appeared there, dusted with the dark soil from the garden. Dawn's face is drawn in surprise, a finger caught between her teeth as she glanced between Phantom and the man they left behind in the city, but all eyes are on the young woman over Dawn's shoulder.

[4:14:11 AM] Hannahbal: (how am i doin so far are you upset yet?) [4:14:18 AM] Tired™: im gonna block u

[4:15:12 AM] Hannahbal: For a long minute, there is silence. Heavy and palpable and so so fragile.

[4:15:24 AM] Hannahbal: No one dares to breath too loud.

[4:19:58 AM] Hannahbal: With careful but firm fingers, Phantom prys Tox's hands off his shirt, then lays his hand over his shoulder. With a quiet smile tugging at his eyes, he answers. "Yes" The silence is broken. "Yes?" the shaken echo comes from Lith, who has gone ashen, faced with the ghost from so many of her waking dreams, the figure of both her fantasies and nightmares. She is asking because she couldn't stand it to believe without being sure. To make the point, Phantom thumps the starstruck Tox on the chest, producing a very real, hollow whump.  "Yes" he says again.

Lith breaks free of her defensive restraint and /runs./ Tox meets her halfway.

[4:24:44 AM] Tired™: jesus u are still typing

[4:24:49 AM] Hannahbal: Where they meet the air is gold and miracles are real, it takes only an impossible hug to see that. It's not a movie, they don't kiss, not right away, too drawn to one another to bother with something so unimportant as kissing, no - they crash, they throw each other off their feet and hit the concrete without a damn care how much the bruise is going to hurt later. He his squeezing her like it had been nine centuries instead of nine months, and she is laying her hand over him, his arms and his back, pulling her hands through his short hair, feeling out the old familiar places and the new spots and scars. She can feel him now, real as the dirt under her fingernails, so she has to see.

[4:24:51 AM] Hannahbal: (yes)

[4:38:28 AM] Hannahbal: She pushes him and he lets her, but not very far - they are staring at each other now, their audience forgotten. She can't think what to say. He's thought about it every day since he got his last look, seeing her terrified as they pushed him down and cracked their nightsticks over his shoulders. "I fought" he says it softly, seeking either understanding or approval, "I told you to run so I could fight. You ran, at least, I hoped you did, so I fought. Every day I thought they'd come to tell me you were there, and they did twice," he smiled, something small and fierce, "but they had nothing to show, so I called them liars." "You fought" she nodded faintly, dragging her fingertips over the mark on his neck, the line on his bicep, the cut still half healed on his forehead. He caught her left hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. (For you. For a home for a family for what's right for liberty for kindness for justice.) Tears stung her eyes. She returned the gesture, only then spying the band of ink around his finger where his ring ought to have been. "No metal," he said solemnly, flexing his hand as she peered at the tattoo. "I don't know what they did with any of it. Melted it, probably." Shock had her look for the silver chain that ought to hang around his neck, but it was gone too. She was starting to understand. "It doesn't matter" she told him. His smile was crushing, and when she saw the old familiar him at last, she was suddenly very aware of her distinct lack of hair. She ran a self conscious hand over the short fuzz that crowned her head and laughed. "It's impossible to keep it clean out here, you know" He brushed his hands over the back of her head, peering at the short buzz job this way and that before declaring with a laugh, "I like it"