#HOW ABOUT A LITTLE COMEDY AND INTRIGUE INSTEAD!!!

[fanfic-obsessed]

Failing to Thrive then Thriving in failure

I just had the funniest notion. Time travel comedy, but the twist is that Palpatine is the one to go back in time. 

So we start just after Kenobi, Palpatine has been emperor for about a decade, he succeeded. The Sith plan is complete, he has everything he had dreamed of and worked toward for a decade…and he is so bored. He never realized that 90% of his joy actually came from pretending to be a benevolent Chancellor and the intrigue of fooling people.  Now he has shown his true colors and could not go back to pretending (it simply would not work). Being the Sith in charge is not as fun as he thought it would be. Even getting to openly torture people has lost its appeal after 10 years.

It’s ok for Vader. For one Vader was never interested in those intrigues in the first place. For two 45% of Vader brain is taken up by trying to resurrect Padme Amidala, 50% is taken up by Obi Wan Kenobi (Palpatine is not sure if Vader wants to kill Kenobi, Kriff Kenobi, make Kenobi tuck Vader in every night and tell him is it going to be alright, Force Kenobi to help Vader resurrected Padme, or make sure Kenobi is eating, taking care of himself, and has a good enough blanket), leaving only 5% for everything else.  

Frankly if this is what Kenobi had to deal with before the war, Palpatine is somewhat impressed he got anything done.

Vader isn’t bored. Palpatine’s assorted lesser minions are not bored, they are living the dream of being as bigoted as their little fascist hearts desire. But Palpatine just could not find joy any longer. 

I do want it clear. Palpatine is not repentant. He does not regret the deaths that he caused, the genocide, the enslavement, any of it. He’s just bored. 

One day Palpatine finds a book, or maybe an artifact, or possibly a scrap of paper with an archaic formula. The title roughly translates to ‘Sith Master Time Travel’ (Listen The Son was also very bored, and being outside of Space Time meant He wanted to see what would happen). Palpatine is able to time travel, but only as far back as when he became a Sith Master. It was also a one time deal, he would not be able to use the method again AND it would destroy his origin timeline (not that that actually factored into Palpatine’s decision at all).  Not to mention he would essentially be possessing and killing his previous, alternate timeline self. 

Of course Palpatine time travels. He goes all the way back to the moment he became the Sith Master (it turns out the Sith titles are not just titles), looking at the still warm corpse of Hugo Damask, just as the Naboo crisis is wrapping up. 

Now Palpatine had already decided to do some things differently.  At first he was still working outward the Grand Sith Plan, if trying to keep his ‘Kindly Politician’ mask a bit longer, however he has decided that instead of Vader (or possibly in addition to Vader, if things get boring again) he will get Obi Wan Kenobi as his apprentice, figuring that there must have been a reason that every Sith Apprentice for 20 years ends up obsessed with the man (also because he thinks it would be funny to corrupt the Jedi’s ‘Guiding Light’). Dooku and all the pieces needed to start the Clone wars are already mostly in place. It is just a matter of maintaining until the clones are the right age.  So he does what he needs to to maintain the Empire building plans and decides to focus on corrupting Obi Wan. 

He fails, utterly. He fails so fully that Obi Wan did not even notice his attempts at corruption. Like he knew it would take time to corrupt a Jedi, he had done before after all, but he still expected at least a little change within the first year. There was nothing. 

And it was not a case of Obi Wan not trusting Palpatine. This is still a decade before the war. Obi Wan is a grieving, freshly knighted,  trying to keep up with a nine year old with somewhat unique trauma. Palpatine knows how to get Obi Wan to feel comfortable and trust him (Palpatine probably knows too well how to get Obi wan to feel comfortable and trust him, between Dooku and Vader). Obi Wan is just, for a given value, incorruptible. 

Now Palpatine’s obsession switch has been flipped. He went into it thinking that corrupting Obi Wan would be a fun side project, a way to pass the time.  He was wrong.  He knows from the previous timeline that torture would not be effective (Listen if the torture mask specifically built to corrupt lightsiders did not make a dent after a month it is pretty well proven that torture will not cause Kenobi to fall, Palpatine knows this) nor would killing Kenobi’s loved work (again, if it didn’t last time we have some pretty concrete proof). 

So now we have Palpatine trying every method he can think of to seduce Kenobi the darkside, always just shy of admitting to being a Sith or being creepy. To the point that he has actually forgotten the Empire building he was doing. He kind of even forgets to be Sidious.  He almost ghosts Dooku, before he remembers that Dooku is Kenobi’s grandfather(that is not the correct term, Dooku tries to correct Palpatine an even dozen times before giving up) and gets Dooku involved in the corruption that is STILL. GOING. NOWHERE.

Dooku basically becomes Grandpa Dooku to both Obi Wan and Anakin, and falls back into the Light while trying unsuccessfully to corrupt Obi Wan to the Dark. Due to darkside vow complications (also because I think it would be really funny) Dooku is not able to say, imply, or otherwise do anything to make the Jedi suspicious that Palaptine is a Sith. Also, to a certain extent he thinks that as long as Palpatine is focused on corrupting his incorruptible grandson, the other Sith is not thinking about galactic domination (To be fair he is correct).  

Palpatine spends most of his time trying to corrupt Obi Wan, while keeping up the act used to maintain Obi Wan’s trust. The thing is Palpatine is fully aware that Anakin in the original timeline was about observant as a particularly dense brick wall and would not have realized that the persona of ‘My friend Palaptine’ did not match the reality of ‘My pal Friendpatine’. Obi Wan would realize if his act was not consistent. 

So Palpatine decided to keep the act up 24/7.  And everyone knows that your actions become your habits become your personality. 

Somewhere in year 8 Palpatine forgets how to Sith. 

Technically he is still a darksider but not the extra layer of fucked up that comes from being an actual Sith. And he still has not even made a dent in Obi Wan’s light. He has also, almost single handedly, derailed the war that had been brewing and fixed about 40% of the corruption in the Senate.  All without killing a single senator.

Palpatine spends most of his time very confused. 

Palpatine lets his term as Chancellor end, having gone down in history as one of the most beloved Chancellors in history.  The Clones are found and mostly are inducted as an arm of the Jedi Order. Jango Fett is given a metric ton of therapy, which helps him see that the Jedi were not actually at fault for Galidraan (Jango had, in fact, been the person to escalate things to violence) before he is allowed to take Boba back into the galaxy. By that point the Clones want little to do with him. 

For the rest of his life Palpatine tries, unsuccessfully, to corrupt Obi Wan (who never noticed). At this point he is genuinely friends with a number of Jedi (He and Mace Windu have a surprising amount in common, including a love of the theater and a mild exasperation for Anakin Skywalker's antics). He is an honored guest at both the CodyWan and the Anidala Weddings (including a Jedi based wedding ceremony).

Honestly he is having the most fun of his life. 

He is also never caught as a darksider. He never figures out how that is possible either.

[casiia]

༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; deep breath.

warnings .: x reader, afab! reader, suggestive (just a kiss but still), mdni 18+, piercer simon, use of y/n, unedited.

.: masterlist.

the rhythmic hum of tattoo machines and the faint sound of chatter filled the air as you stepped into the studio; ghost canvas. you had booked an appointment with simon riley, intrigued by his work. known for his painless piercings and intricate fine-line tattoos, making him very well-known in the industry.

you had originally booked an appointment for another ear piercing, a helix that would go with the other assortments of jewelry already shining your ear. excitement and nervousness mingle through your stomach as you glance around the studio.

an ambient light flickers around each furniture corner, keeping the place dim and allowing natural sunlight to filter in through the sunroof. the walls were adorned with vibrant artwork, most of which are messy and clean-looking oil paintings. various band tapestries also hung from the walls, rock bands; nirvana, metallica, and deftones being a majority of the decor. 

you settled into the waiting area after checking in, and the receptionist behind the counter shot you a kind smile and let you know that your piercer, simon, would be ready soon. you had been a little late for your appointment, struggling to find parking, and he had taken another client waiting for you.

you shifted in your seat, the leather cool against your bare skin. you pulled the hem of your skirt down, before winding your hands in your lap. your eyes wandered around the room, and you couldn’t help but admire the diverse clientele that flowed in and out of the studio. each person was leaving or coming in with a unique mark, a testament to simon’s expertise. 

the longer you waited, the more nervous you began to feel. you had gotten piercings before, but each time you found yourself chewing on your lip in anticipation. pain was never your friend, and your tolerance for it was always low ever since you were a kid. tears would well in your eyes with every papercut you got, even now as an adult. 

“y/n? simon’s ready for you.” the receptionist calls out, guiding you into another small room. she looks at your fidgeting fingers and gives you another reassuring smile. “no reason to be nervous. just sit tight for a second, and he’ll be here to show you our selection of jewelry.” she encourages before shutting the door behind her and leaving you in the small room. 

it’s decorated very similarly to the lobby, except instead of oil paintings, there’s a various amount of skull decor littering the room. paintings, sculptures, and in a glass case on a counter sat a small dinosaur skull.

you felt a chill run down your spine; there was almost no color in the secluded room. everything was dull black and white, and the walls were even painted a dark gray. the only thing that stood out was you, sitting on the large black chair in your bright little pink skirt. 

you’re pressing your thighs together, your legs absentmindedly swinging as you wait for simon. you had heard about him from instagram, the wild comments that raved about his work while some raved about his looks. curiosity got the best of you and with his studio only a couple blocks from your place, what was there to lose?

“are you my two o'clock?”

you hadn’t even realized that the door opened, a tall man stepping inside and shutting it with a soft click. even with you sitting on the elevated chair, he loomed over you. his tall build complimented with muscles that bulged out of his tight-fitting black shirt. 

“i am. y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” you look up at him with a friendly smile, sticking your hand out for him to shake. when he does, you find yourself biting the inside of your cheek.

romance comedies always made you laugh; you never believed in love at first sight or a spark that ran between the two lovers when they first touched. but you couldn’t help but like how your hand fitted in his, his palm warm and much larger than yours. you could feel his calloused fingers squeezing your soft skin, an intimate touch that made you want more.

“simon.” the corner of his mouth barely turns up, but he’s looking down at you with a cocky look. he squeezes your hand again, and you're reminded that you should have let go by now. 

a blush paints your cheeks, causing you to look away from him and down at your lap. he clears his throat, and you can tell he wants to laugh, which only adds to your embarrassment.

“what kind of piercing are you planning on getting today?” he asks, going over to his jewelry display and bringing it to you. your eyes flicker into the clear box before looking back at him.

“just an ear piercing, a helix.”

he nods, reaching over and pushing your hair back. he looks at your ears, already littered with piercings, and he only nods again. “let me know which stud you’d like, and i’ll get it sanitized for you.”

as you continue to look through the assortments of jewelry, a frown forms on your lips. not to say that you were picky, but nothing seemed to catch your eye. the various amounts of gold and titanium all the same, dull in color, and wouldn’t match the theme of your ears. 

simon glances over your features as you’re focused on the display in front of him; you are beautiful and unlike any of his other clients. 

“i think i may have something that you’d like,” simon says, his voice sounding softer than before. he almost grins when you look up at him, your head tilting to the side in confusion. 

he’s kicking himself for wondering why you’re making him all comfortable; he was never one to want to be close to his clients. he’s leaning into you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and tilting your head with his thumb. his eyes linger on your lips, and he wants to push his thumb into your mouth, just wanting to see how you’d look. although quickly, he turns his attention back to your ears, noticing the array of star and moon jewelry that piece together perfectly. 

“i knew i was saving this for someone,” he mumbles, pulling away from you. he steps back over to his cabinet of jewelry, putting the clear case of boring studs back before grabbing a new one. “do you like any of these?”

your attention flickers down to the mini box he held in one hand, the case no larger than a ring box. inside sat a small star stud, its coloring a soft rose gold. instantly a smile finds your lips, and you’re nodding up at him with thankful eyes. “i love it.”

“great, give me a second, and i’ll get it cleaned up for you.”

as simon turns around to sanitize the stud, your gaze is glued to his back. the way his muscles flex under his shirt with every subtle move or the intricate tattoos that litter over his arms. it doesn’t look like he has any piercings, his face, and ears completely untouched. makes you wonder why he’s also taken in the profession of piercing; from just a glance, anyone can tell he’s much more into the art of inking. 

silence fills the room as you patiently wait; only the muffled sound of rock music from the lobby eases your nerves. he turns back to you, snapping black gloves onto his hands. “how is your pain tolerance? are you prone to fainting?” he asks, his tone almost monotone as he repeats the same precautionary questions that he has to ask every day. 

“i never faint, but i’m not too good with pain.” you reply, your hands now gripping the edge of your seat beside your thighs. “kinda why i booked with you, heard you make ‘em painless.”

he gives you a reassuring smile, pride starting to swell in his chest. “s’that why you booked with me?” simon couldn’t help but feel grateful that you’d made an appointment with him because of his skill and not his looks. most of his clients booked with him because of his reputation of being attractive, and even if you silently agreed with them, the fact that you didn’t voice it and belittle his career surprised him pleasantly. 

you nodded, swallowing thickly when he took a step closer. he’s telling you to relax, that he’s just gonna mark you, but you only find your breath hitching when he invades your personal space. he knocks your knees apart, making you spread your legs for him as he stands between them. he has your chin held between his fingers in one hand while the other is pushing your hair back again and pressing the tip of the toothpick into your skin, leaving a dot of purple ink at the top of your ear.

you can feel his warm breath fanning against your cheek, and your thighs try to close together, squeezing his hips. you have one hand on his chest, balancing him in an attempt to distance yourself. your other hand is gripping at the hem of your skirt, pulling it down as it rides up from your spread legs. 

“tell me if you like it.” simon whispers right by your ear, seeming to forget about the proximity. and just like before, he’s pulling away from you. allowing you to suck in a shaky breath. 

you didn’t think that this would be so intimate, and you wondered if simon was always like this or if he just liked the way you trembled beneath him. 

he hands you a small mirror and motions for you to look at the mark, “i wouldn’t recommend moving it, it would clash with your other jewelry.”

you agree with him, handing his mirror back and shifting once more in your seat. as much as you wanted him to lean into you again, to feel his breath across your face, you wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. your attraction towards him is growing far too fast.

he hums, stepping towards you again, in the same spot between your legs. “lean back for me, sweetheart.” he mumbles, pushing you down into the seat. he’s bending over you and wiping your ear with an alcohol wipe, a cocky smirk on his lips when he feels your thighs squeezing into his hips again. 

the nickname catches you off guard, and now with you stuck underneath him, your nerves begin to eat at you. not because you’re worried about the pain or the piercing but because he’s playing with you now. 

“alright sweetheart, you’re only gonna feel a pinch. are you ready?” simon’s pulling back and looking at you, his eyes tracing your expression and looking for any sign of regret or hesitation. 

“i’m ready,” you mumble, your palms pressing into your stomach. you’re a little nervous, but you don’t find yourself running away. he’s tilting your head again, pressing into you with a babble of reassuring statements. 

“deep breath in for me.”

before you know it, the needle glides through your ear with minimal discomfort. it’s been your most painless piercing yet, and you understand why simon has the reputation that he does. 

“good job, love. did so good.” he praises you, sliding the jewelry into place and leaning back to look at you. his adoration fuels an ache between your legs, and you whine just under your breath. 

simon pulls off his latex gloves and presses his hands into your seat, dangerously close to your thighs. “how’d that feel?”

“amazing, you’re really good at what you do,” you say, sitting up in your seat. you tilt your head with a smirk, realizing that he still has you caged into the cushiony chair, unable to maneuver away.

he grins at your words, his tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek before he licks his lips. the ball of his tongue piercing, shining in the light only for a second. “thank you.” 

you don’t even register his appreciation, your mind clouding with the thought of his hidden piercing. “did it hurt?” unable to resist the urge, you voice your curiosity. 

“hm?” simon hums, a chuckle spilling from his lips. “when i fell from heaven?”

you snort, shaking your head. “no, your tongue piercing.” 

simon riley’s eyes meet yours with a mischievous glint; he flashes you a confident smile. his lips parted slightly, revealing the small but distinctive piece of jewelry. you find yourself leaning closer to him, watching as he teasingly slides the ball of his tongue piercing against his teeth. the sound, a gentle click, echoed in the intimate space.

“no,” he mutters, lifting your chin as you lean into him. his free hand going to your hip, squeezing it softly. 

“w-what does it feel like?” 

he hesitates momentarily, seemingly torn between professionalism and the impulse to share a more personal moment. he knows that his attraction is not one-sided, the way you’ve been eyeing him was an obvious sign. you didn’t shy away from his extra touches or the nicknames he whispered in your ear.

“want to find out?” he’s leaning in impossibly closer now, his lips ghosting over yours. and when you nod, he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. 

his grip on your chin tightens, his tongue pushing past your lips and into your mouth. you gasp softly, the feeling of his cold piercing rubbing against your tongue a feeling you’ve never experienced before. you moan into his mouth when his large hands travel down to your waist, tugging you into his chest; your legs wrap around his waist, and you shamelessly swallow his tongue as he shoves it down your throat. 

a knock at the door pulls the two of you apart, breathy gasp and panting quietly filling the room. simon still has that cocky smirk painted on his lips, his chest heaving as he pulls away, “that’s what it feels like.”

he answers his door, leaving you a flustered mess; you quickly gather your things and grab your bag from the floor. you can hear his receptionist telling him that his next appointment is here, and you feel so stupid. reality knocking the air from your lungs, you had just kissed simon, a stranger that you’d only met a couple minutes ago. you shouldn’t expect more, he merely answered a question that you asked. 

before you can push past him and out the room, he grabs your wrist, his grip tight. “wait,” simon sighs loudly, pulling you back into him before sliding his business card into the waistband of your skirt, “call me if you have any…questions.”

AN: republishing this with no changes because oh well, i also love being delusional cuz i lowkey fell in love with my piercer.

[lunargrrrl]

Lights, Camera, Magic

Agatha Harkness sits in the director's chair of some of your favourite movies. Your world suddenly turns upside down when you're invited to audition for her latest screenplay, "Witching Hour".

Chapter 16

director!agatha harkness x fem!reader | slow burn | power dynamics | eventual smut | oh and agatha is a top in this, ofc | praise kink | smut | thank you all for your patience | i'm really bad at posting on tumblr

Dinner is served in a grand dining room, with elegant chandeliers casting a golden glow over the tables. Soft jazz plays in the background, mingling with the clinks of silverware and chatter. You glance at the set name placeholders, realising you’re seated slightly away from Agatha, opposite her and a few seats down, next to none other than Rio Vidal—the captivating woman you encountered on the roof terrace just moments ago. She exudes confidence in a tailored dark grey suit that perfectly complements her striking features and cool energy.

“I'm really glad I’m sitting next to you instead of some of these lizards,” Rio says, her voice light. “At least you know how to keep a conversation interesting. The last guy I talked to just wouldn’t stop bragging about his latest blockbuster flop.”

You chuckle. “I can imagine. It’s refreshing to talk to someone who’s real. I’m just trying to enjoy the moment and not get caught up in all the Hollywood nonsense. It’s all just… so intense.”

Rio nods. “Totally get that. It can feel like everyone’s just playing a part, trying to outshine one another. I mean, I love this industry, but sometimes it’s exhausting.” She glances around the room, lowering her voice. “I swear, if I have to hear one more person talk about their ‘vision’ for a film that’s been in development hell for years, I might just lose it.”

You laugh softly in reply as she leans in closer, a playful smile on her lips. “So, tell me, what do you do when you’re not charming the socks off everyone in this room?”

You take a sip of your drink, feeling the warmth of her compliment. “Well, the past year has just been so crazy, I don’t even know anymore. One minute, I was working for some tech company in my first job out of college, and the next, I’m here, auditioning for movies after some guy spotted me in a coffee shop. It feels like a dream that I’m just trying to keep up with.”

Rio raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Talk about a plot twist. Honestly, I see why someone would want to scout you. It’s no wonder people can’t help but notice you.”

You laugh, feeling a flutter of connection. As dinner progresses, the conversation flows easily, filled with laughter and shared stories. As you chat, you can feel Agatha's gaze on you from across the table, her expression a mix of interest and something else—jealous, perhaps. 

That familiar, possessive gaze that refuses to leave.

-*-✨-*-

Dinner draws to a close as the servers begin to prepare the table for dessert. Rio is mid-story when her hand brushes against yours as she gestures animatedly. “And then I told him, ‘If you think that’s impressive, wait until you see my next project!’” she finishes, a grin on her lips.

You burst into laughter, and the moment is light. Friendly. But then, you catch Agatha’s eyes flicking toward you, narrowing as she engages with the heavyweight next to her, flashing a smile that feels a touch too flirtatious for comfort.

You try to shake off the discomfort, refocusing on Rio. “So, what’s next for you? Tell me about that project you’re crewing up for next year?”

“Oh yeah, it’s a new script that I think will turn some heads, I reckon you’d be a perfect fit for one of the roles,” Rio replies, her enthusiasm infectious. “It’s a dark comedy about—”

But your attention drifts as you catch another glimpse of Agatha, who is now leaning a bit too close to her companion, laughing a little too hard at something they say. Her fingers graze their wrist, and you feel a knot of annoyance tighten in your stomach.

You turn back to Rio, forcing a smile. “That sounds amazing...”

As you attempt to redirect the conversation, Agatha’s laughter rings out again, this time drawing out her iconic cackle, and you feel the heat of frustration bubble up inside you. You steal another glance at her, catching her playing with the producer’s fingers, and that’s it.

“Excuse me for a second...” you mutter under your breath, pushing back your chair with a noise that draws attention. You stand abruptly, not caring if anyone is looking, and storm away from the table, the air around you suddenly feeling too stifling.

As you pace towards the exit, the soft murmur of conversation behind you fades, drowned out by the thudding of your heart in your chest. You reach the elevator, and the doors begin to slide shut just as you take a breath to steady yourself.

And the second that the doors almost close, is the same second that a hand shoots out, catching the door and forcing it back open.

Agatha.

Your mouth goes dry, and your heart skips, responding to her presence like clockwork.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, her voice smooth as silk, laced with an undertone that makes your pulse quicken.

“I just needed some air,” you reply, trying to sound casual, but the way she’s looking at you makes it impossible to hide the tremor in your voice.

“Air?” she echoes, stepping closer, her gaze steady and piercing. “Why? You seemed pretty… relaxed out there with Rio.”

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you do your best to hold your composure. “And what about you? I saw you flirting with that producer all dinner.”

Agatha tilts her head, an amused smile dancing on her lips. “Flirting? Hardly. I was simply being professional, and sometimes you need to play into their hands in this industry.” Her expression furrows as she steps even closer, the air between you thick with electricity. “But I’ll admit, it’s adorable how you think you can tease me and get away with it, pet.”

She continues, leaning in, “Two can play at this game, sweetheart. Do you think I didn’t notice the way she looked at you? I think you were forgetting who you belong to.”

Your breath hitches at her words, the possessive undertone igniting within you. “Well, maybe I’m not so easy to claim.”

“Oh, but I think you are.” She steps closer, closing the space between you, “You just need a little reminder.”

Before you can respond, Agatha closes the distance between you with one swift, powerful motion, slamming you against the wall of the elevator. The cool metal presses against your back, causing you to gasp.

“Agatha…” you breathe, but she silences you with her lips, crashing into you with a fervour that ignites every nerve ending in your body. The kiss is urgent and demanding, her hands framing your face as she tilts your head to deepen the connection. You melt against her, responding with equal intensity, the frustration and heat of the moment fuelling your desire.

You gasp helplessly into her hot mouth as she brushes her tongue against yours, igniting a wildfire of longing that tears through you. Her kiss is a heady mix of passion and desperation, each sweep of her tongue sends shivers shaking all over you. You feel her breath hot and rapid against your skin, mixing with the soft sighs that escape from your lips.

Every second stretches into eternity as you lose yourself in her, the world outside the elevator fading into darkness. You explore the intoxicating taste of her lips, rich with the hint of the champagne you shared; the overwhelming strength of her hold wraps around you like a spell. You run your hands up her blazer, your fingers reaching and tangling in her long brown hair, pulling her even closer.

You want to surrender yourself to her completely.

A soft moan escapes your mouth, echoing in the confined space, and Agatha responds immediately, deepening the kiss. It’s as if she craves the sound, as if every whimper from your lips is a reward she cannot resist. Her mouth captures every ounce of your breath, each kiss a sweet torment that leaves you aching for more. She pulls your bottom lip into her mouth, teasingly grazing it with her teeth, sending a rush pooling through you that makes you whimper louder.

And the second that sound slips past your lips, is the same second that Agatha can’t contain the low, throaty sigh that escapes her.

Time seems to compress, each heartbeat reverberating in your chest, leaving you breathless and aching for more, as if every inch of you is ablaze—and only Agatha has the power to quell the flames.

And then, without a word, she reaches into her pocket, retrieving a sleek hotel key card. You manage to catch a glimpse of what it swipes on the elevator panel:

Penthouse Suite

Your breath catches.

Your heart thuds.

Every inch of you pulses at the implication.

Breaking the kiss once more, Agatha pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression a mix of possessiveness and desire.

“It’s time to show you who you really belong to.”

Continue reading on AO3:

[bcdwhcre]

heyy can you write some fluff headcannons stuff about L x fem reader? Whatever you have in mind, thank uuu

“Gently,” L x Fem!Reader

Summary: Some cute gentle headcannons of L and the reader <3

Warnings: None

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Neither of you could explain how you both ended up in the position you were currently in right now but it just randomly happened.

You both sat in your living room, enjoying each other’s company and talked about whatever flowed from each of your mouths. That is until L ended up on the floor before you, his back facing you and his body sitting between your legs as you sat at the edge of the couch.

Your fingers combing through his long dark hair. The tv playing some comedy movie you had put on a while ago but began to talk and focus on each other instead.

Hair ties and hair clips rested on your lap as you started to comb and braid pieces of his hair a specific way. It was a dumb idea that you had brought up but it was a shock when L agreed to let you do it.

The smile on your face, the fits of giggles that escaped your mouth made it all worth it to him. Your laughter filling his ears, making the smile grow on his face.

He could feel your fingers tugging at his hair and doing whatever you wanted with it, making him a little nervous but also excited to see what you ended up coming up with.

The relationship you two shared have only been going on for a little less than a year. It randomly happened one day when you both met inside of a library, seeing you sit in a chair and read a thriller book.

It intrigued him and although he wasn’t the best at talking, he surprisingly had enough courage to walk up and make the first move.

After that the two of you bonded over books and over movies. Then you both found out that even though you were the same, you were also very different.

He was into sweets, you were into salty treats. He was into educational and detective books while you were into thriller and romance books.

Now here you both were.

“Ouch.” L mumbled, feeling the tug on his hair as you continued to braid the small pieces.

“Sorry.” You laughed slightly, the concentration on your face evident as you tried to work with what you were given.

After some time you finished, watching him stand up and the amount of laughter that left your lips as you watched him walk towards the mirror was a great amount.

He stared at himself in the mirror for what seemed like forever. Not only was he in shock with what you had done but he also found it hilarious. Some laughter escaped his mouth at the bright pink hair clips and the fact his hair was brush back from his forehead, exposing his entire face.

“I look ridiculous.” He spoke, turning to face you with a flushed face as if he was almost embarrassed at how funny he looked.

“I think you look like a pretty princess.” You admitted, crossing your arms over your chest in almost a pouty way.

“Thank you.” He stepped over, planting a quick kiss to your forehead.

After that, without much thought of how you got there, you both were in the kitchen. His hair still braided and full of bright hair clips while you both started to make cupcakes, a treat he had been asking for all day.

You finally gave in, the both of you making quite a mess on the counters while trying to teach him how to make his own cupcakes so he can stop asking you to make them everyday.

“I know how to make them! I just like it when you make it.” He scoffed, cracking the egg open and letting the insides fall right into the bowl on top of the cupcake mix.

“So you’ve been pretending to not know?” You asked, the memories of him telling you he didn’t know how to make him so you can.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, a cheesy smile appearing on his lips.

“What a little shit.” You laughed, mixing the mix together and sticking your finger in it before rubbing off the mix onto the tip of his nose.

His nose began to scrunch up at the feeling of it while also in shock at the fact you decided to waste some mix just to put on his face.

“What a waste.” He muttered, making you roll your eyes and put another wipe of mix onto his cheek this time.

A sudden dramatic gasp fell from his lips at you wasting even more that could have gone to his precious cupcakes. L decided to lean forehead, pressing a kiss on your lips but only because the mix on his nose smeared against yours.

When he pulled back, he turned his head to rub his cheek on yours, once again smearing the mix on both of your faces. You let out a grunt, trying to pry yourself away from his body.

“Jesus, L!” You said out loud, hearing his small fits of laughter leave his lips.

“Don’t worry, I won’t waste it like you. I’ll lick it off.”

.

.

.

.

.

A/N:

Wondering if this is the fluff I had envisioned in my head but we’ll see how it does. It’s also somewhat short so I’m sorry :(

• DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST •

• MAIN MASTERLIST •

[charliemwrites]

Honestly I would love to hear your thoughts on all of the concepts you mentioned, but I’m especially intrigued by “reader who came back Wrong” and Simon getting possessed - if you feel like sharing of course <3

I just did the Possessed!Simon one here, so let’s do reader who came back Wrong

-a bit similar set up to SpecGru reader tbh. Reader and Simon have a fraternizing thing going on. They’re definitely more invested than Simon

-simon is a shit, per usual. It’s not enough to hint or just brush off gently. No, he’s gotta be nuclear about it

-reader lasts a couple months of trying (and failing) to pretend they have their feelings under control. Doesn’t help that Simon is sending mixed signals by still wanting to fuck them

-initiate strategy: time away

-reader takes a long-term assignment with a different team, but it is temporary. Theyre home is still with the 141, issues with Simon aside

-what was supposed to be a year becomes 18 months. At month 6 contact with all of the 141 (not just Simon) decreases. At month 9 it cuts off entirely. At month 13, Kate admits that a mission didn’t go according to plan but the 141 is not authorized to intervene

-at month 17 she announces that reader is finally coming back

-reader steps off the plane with bad scars on their face and a uniform with no patches (borrowed)

-they smile at the 141, express how much they missed their boys….

-but there’s just the slightest hesitation when Gaz hugs them. An uncharacteristic twitch in their fingers when Johnny throws an arm around their shoulder. They keep looking to Laswell for direction instead of Price. And they barely seem to notice Simon is there at all

-Simon is the only one to notice. And he keeps noticing.

-their signature has changed. He sees their after-action reports first and he almost doesn’t recognize it. Handwriting is off too

-they smile just a bit too slow at jokes that used to be just their type of comedy

-Johnny suggests a movie they used to love and they make little comments almost like this is the first time they’re seeing it

-Simon catches them eating banana one day. They hate banana.

-they keep looking at him weird. Just… weird. Like someone they know but can’t remember the name of. Except they do know his name - or at least his last one. They keep calling him “Riley” something they never did even during their worst arguments

-price notices too. Their combat is Off. no ones getting injured and yet… they don’t fight like they used to either

-they ask Laswell what happened. She says it’s classified.

-it won’t be for much longer

[cecilysass]

Undercover Smolder Mulder: Pine Bluff Variant Fic Recs

I'd describe Pine Bluff Variant as a low key fan favorite, an episode that I even feel like appreciation has grown for over the years. Oh sure, it doesn’t get the fan love that a Memento Mori or Pusher might, but we sure do see those Mulder Scully intense looks gifs popping up pretty often, right? Plus, it has partner trust angst, undercover intrigue, hurt/comfort, genuine thriller-style suspense, and serious MSR overtones.

I like PBV for all of those reasons obviously, but also because it feels like the show going with a slightly different tone. Starting from its action-based, FBI operation cold open, we know this is more conspiracy / bioterrorist thriller than classic X-file. Yes, there’s a sci fi component to the biotoxin--and the scenes that reveal its victims have a horror feel--but this episode just isn’t as much about the supernatural. It also raises the interesting--and nowadays more pointed--question: aren’t anti-government groups operating under their own rules sometimes potentially as dangerous as the government itself?

TXF tried several kinds of experiments in its later seasons, in production and structure of show (Triangle or X-Cops), in exploring all kinds of playful, self-aware and satirical comedy (lots of season 6, Hollywood A.D., etc.), in making drastic moves with its mytharc (One Son, Requiem, etc). Going in the direction of a more purely action-suspense thriller for a MOTW wasn’t something they ever tried again (that I can think of anyway). And I think that's kind of a shame? It feels like a good change up. Different without messing too much with the show’s basic DNA.

Not to mention, y'all, Scully thinks he betrayed her! And there's the scene with the finger! And Mulder thinks he's going to die! There's so much good stuff here!

Here is a list of Pine Bluff Variant fic recs. (As usual, I really think there should be more. This episode has sooooo many openings. You should write some.)

Calling Bluffs - mangokiwitropicalswirl An angsty little post ep that doesn’t flinch from the way coming close to death affects Mulder (or Scully). It also raises the question of how much their bond always puts them at risk. Moving ending.

Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One Before - pinebluffvariant Immediately post ep, Scully protects Mulder. There is some satisfying hurt/comfort. But what really shines in this fic is the ending, which ties a nice bow on season 5 and kicks me in the feels. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, indeed: sniff.

Passing Solace - DarlaBlack An intensely romantic NC-17 scene set in the middle of the episode, focused on their deep care and need for one another. Beautifully written.

All of This (around) Us - secondsflat In this sweet fic they share whiskey before Scully sets his finger bone, and Scully voices her frustration at not knowing about his undercover work. An intimate, atmospheric little scene.

Snakebitten - onpaperfirst This is a riff on all of season 5 written with great skill and subtlety. So, so good. It’s canon divergent in that it seeds the Pine Bluff Variant / New Spartans storyline back earlier in the season—and it has more RST. Such a treat.

Postcards Slipped Under the Door - skuls Two years after Pine Bluff Variant, some time after the events of En Ami in season 7, Mulder begins receiving ominous postcards from the New Spartans, suggesting they have regrouped. Skinner and Scully think it’s too dangerous for him to get involved in the case again, so Scully goes instead. This is hard on Mulder, as they’re in a recently begun relationship. Angsty, plot-driven, satisfying.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Swipe Right | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (18+)

Description: Roman and Iris go to dinner and get to know each other more.. Intimately.

Chapter: 5/6

Word Count: 2065

Warnings: Mention of death of a loved one, flirting, teasing, Dom/sub dynamics, smut, mention of spanking, very mild depredation, honorifics, fingering, dirty talk, praise.

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. As always my stories are about Roman, not Joe. While there is not smut in the first couple of chapters, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. You have been warned.

Roman arrives at Iris's house in a sleek, black car, driven by a chauffeur. He steps out of the car and rings her doorbell. When she answers he hands her a bouquet of her favorite flowers, a small smile on his face. He knew her favorite flower from going back and studying her tinder profile. He was dressed in a suit that made him look like the walking billion dollar check he claimed to be.

"These are for you," he says, holding out the bouquet of white roses.

Iris takes the flowers, surprised that he knew her favorite. She looks at him, trying to hide her surprise.

"Thank you," she says, her voice a little softer than before. "You didn't have to do that."

Roman shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his face. "I wanted to," he says simply. "I know you like white roses."

He looks past her, noticing Imani, Amira and Jax standing in the background grinning. "And who are these lovely ladies?" Roman asks, a charming smile on his face.

"This is my daughter Imani," Iris says, gesturing to the teenager glaring daggers at him. "And this is Amira, my youngest." she adds gesturing to the smaller girl in the Disney Princess shirt.

Imani looks at Roman with a critical eye, sizing him up. She crosses her arms and gives him a skeptical look.

Roman raises an eyebrow at Imani's glare, but he doesn't let it faze him. Instead, he turns his attention to Amira, who is looking up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"And how old are you, Amira?" he asks, his voice gentle.

Amira smiles shyly "I'm nine," she says, her voice small and sweet. He had sons roughly her age.

Roman turns his attention back to Imani, who is still glaring at him.

"You must be the overprotective one," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Imani raises an eyebrow at his comment, clearly not amused.

"And you must be the guy who hurt my mom," she retorts, her voice laced with hostility.

Iris shoots Imani a warning look.

"Imani Rosé, be nice," she says firmly. "Roman and I have made up."

Imani rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything else. Roman can't help but chuckle at the interaction.

"Don't worry, I understand where she's coming from," he says to Iris. "She's just looking out for her Mom. Besides, I have a daughter her age. Not the first time I've gotten that glare and probably won't be the last." Roman chuckled lightly.

Roman smiles at Imani, his expression warm and genuine.

"It's nice to meet you, Imani," he says. "You sound like a really strong and smart young lady."

Iris turns to Jax, who is standing next to Imani, beaming with excitement.

"And this is my sister Jax," she says, introducing her. "Jax, this is Roman."

Jax's eyes widen as she looks at Roman, and she can't help but let out a small gasp. "Oh my gods, he's even hotter in person," she blurts out before quickly covering her mouth with her hands.

Roman can't help but chuckle at Jax's reaction, amused by her enthusiasm.

"I'm glad I meet expectations, I guess" he says.

Iris rolls her eyes and sighs. "Don't mind her, she's obsessed with the Bloodline," she says to Roman.

"Yeah, I need you to introduce me to one of your cousins. Like yesterday." Jax said half jokingly.

Roman raises an eyebrow, intrigued by Jax's request.

"Which cousin are you interested in meeting?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Are you being deadass?" Jax asked, her jaw dropping.

Amira, who had been mostly quiet until now, pipes up at the mention of Roman's cousins. "I want to meet Maui!" she exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement.

Roman grins at Amira's enthusiasm.

"You want to meet Maui from Moana?" he asks, feigning surprise. "That's my cousin."

Amira nods, "Yeah, my Auntie LeLe told me!" she said.

Roman chuckles, "Well, I'll see what I can do about getting you a meeting with Maui," he says, winking at her.

Iris laughs and hugs her kids tightly.

"Okay, okay, that's enough requests," she says, trying to contain her amusement. "I'll see you two later, behave yourselves. I love you both." She says placing kisses on top their heads.

She then hugs her sister and thanks her for watching the girls before shuffling out of the door with Roman.

Iris and Roman arrive at the rooftop restaurant, which is decorated with elegant tables and twinkling lights. The view of the city is breathtaking, and the air is filled with the soft sounds of music and chatter.

Iris looks around in awe, taking in the atmosphere.

"This place is amazing," she says, turning to Roman.

Roman smiles and takes her hand, as they're led to their table.

"I'm glad you like it," he says. "I wanted to make this night special." Roman pulls out Iris's chair for her, a gentlemanly gesture that makes her heart flutter.

"Thank you," she says, taking her seat.

Iris chuckles and raises an eyebrow at Roman.

"Suddenly being a gentleman, huh?" she teases. "You weren't this gentle when we first met." Being that the table he reserved was in its own private little area of the rooftop, they could pretty openly discuss anything without being overheard.

Roman grins, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, I'm definitely a gentleman," he says, his voice low and smooth. "But I'm also a Dom, and I know a sub when I see one. And you, babygirl, are definitely a submissive."

"And how do you know that?" Iris questioned

Roman leans in closer, his voice taking on a seductive tone.

"I can tell by the way you react to me," he says, his breath hot against her ear. "

"The way you respond to my touch, the way you submitted to me taking control when we made out in my locker room. The way you beamed when I called you a good girl."

Iris grins, her heart racing at his words. She can't deny that he's right. "I can't argue with that," she admits, biting her lip.

Roman takes a sip of his drink before speaking, his eyes locked on Iris. "I've been in the lifestyle for years," he says. "It's something that just comes naturally to me. I enjoy taking control and making my partner feel good. How about you?"

Iris takes a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "I've been in the lifestyle for a while too," she admits. "But it's been a while since I've had a partner who could truly take control and make me feel the way you do."

Roman's eyes darken with desire as he leans in closer. "I want to be that partner for you," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I want to make you feel things you've never felt before. I want to take you to new heights of pleasure, and submission."

Iris takes a deep breath, her expression turning somber.

"I haven't been on a date since my husband passed away," she says, her voice quiet. "We were exploring the lifestyle together before he.. well.. I haven't had a Dom since. I appreciate your offer, but I need time to think about it."

Roman nods understandingly, his expression softening.

"I understand," he says, taking her hand in his. "Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere. And if you decide you want to give this a try, I promise I'll take care of you and treat you right."

Iris smiles, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words.

"Thank you," she says, squeezing his hand.

Once they make it to the car, Roman slips the driver a $50 bill and instructs him to give them some privacy. The driver nods and gets out of the car, leaving Roman and Iris alone in the backseat.

As they sit in the backseat of the car, Iris looks at Roman with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. She leans in and presses her lips against his, kissing him softly at first, then more passionately.

Roman returns the kiss, his hand coming up to cup her face. But then he pulls back, a stern look on his face.

"Ah ah ah," he says, shaking his head. "You know gotta asking permission, babygirl."

Iris pouts and looks up at Roman with a sulky expression."But I wanted to kiss you," she says, her voice almost a whine.

Roman chuckles and shakes his head again."I know you did, babygirl," he says, his tone firm but playful. "But that doesn't change the fact that you didn't ask permission. If you were mine, you'd be getting a spanking for that."

Iris's pout deepens, but there's a hint of excitement in her eyes.

"You'd really spank me?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Roman grins, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Oh, I would," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I'd spank you until you're begging for mercy. And then I'd take you home and make you mine in every way possible."

Iris can feel herself getting aroused at the thought of Roman spanking her and taking her home. Her breath quickens, and she shifts in her seat, trying to ignore the growing wetness between her legs.

Roman notices the change in Iris's demeanor and smirks, his eyes darkening with desire.

"You're getting excited, aren't you?" he asks, his voice low and sultry. "The thought of being punished and taken by me is turning you on.. such a bad girl."

Iris nods, unable to deny it. She can feel her body responding to his words, her nipples hardening and her clit throbbing.

"You want your tribal chief to make you feel good, sweetheart?" Roman asked.

"Yes," she whispers granting all the consent he needed to work his magic.

"Safeword is red." He tells her getting a nod in response.

"Use your words" Roman commanded

"Yes Sir" Iris responded.

Roman pulls Iris onto his lap, his lips crashing against hers in a hungry kiss. He runs his hands up her thighs, pushing her dress up and pulling her panties to the side. He slides his fingers between her folds, feeling how wet she is for him.

"You're soaked," he growls, his fingers rubbing against her clit.

Iris moans, her body arching into his touch. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his long luscious curls as he continues to tease her.

"Please," she whispers, her voice trembling with need. "I need more."

Roman grins smugly, his eyes flashing with desire. "More, huh?" he says, his fingers slipping inside her. "You want me to make you cum right here in the backseat of this car?"

Iris nods, her hips bucking against his hand as he starts to move his fingers in and out of her.

"Yes," she gasps, her eyes locked on his. "Please, make me cum, my tribal chief."

Roman's fingers move faster, his thumb rubbing against her clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of her. He leans in and whispers in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"You're so tight, babygirl," he says. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Iris's body tenses as she feels herself getting closer to the edge. She clings to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she moans his name.

"Roman, I'm going to cum," she cries out.

Roman smirks, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Come for me, babygirl," he growls, his fingers curling inside her. "Come all over my hand."

Iris's body shudders as she reaches her peak, her orgasm washing over her in waves of pleasure. She buries her face in Roman's neck, moaning and gasping as she comes undone.

After Iris comes down from her high, Roman licks her juices from his fingers savoring her taste and helps her straighten her clothes. They make their way back to her place. The car ride is quiet, comfortable quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

When they arrive at her house, Roman walks her to the door, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

Roman pulls Iris close and kisses her deeply, his tongue tangling with hers.

"Goodnight, babygirl," he whispers against her lips. "I'll see you soon."

"Damn, I'ma need one of them cousins!" Jax's voice is heard over the ring cam.

Previous Chapter ●◉◎◈◎◉● Final Chapter

[floridaboiler]

One sunny afternoon, a couple of tourists in San Francisco found themselves in the middle of an unexpected adventure. They were wandering through a small bookstore, scanning the shelves, when they heard a familiar, playful voice behind them. Turning around, they were stunned to see none other than Robin Williams, a grin stretched across his face, as if he had just cracked a joke that only he could understand. Rather than ignore his fans or hide behind sunglasses, he immediately engaged them in conversation. Within minutes, he had the small group in stitches with his improvised accents and quirky observations, showing not just his comedic genius but his humble nature. For Robin, connecting with people was never a chore but something he genuinely enjoyed.

Robin Williams had an uncanny ability to make every fan encounter feel unique and personal. Once, at a New York City comedy club, a young aspiring comedian approached him nervously, unsure of how to introduce himself. Instead of brushing the young man off, Robin put his arm around him, looked him in the eye, and asked, “Do you have a joke for me?” The young comedian, taken aback, stumbled through a joke that he’d been practicing. Robin burst into laughter, not just to humor him, but with genuine appreciation. He gave him pointers, shared advice, and even encouraged him to keep going, emphasizing how crucial it was to find his own voice. This brief encounter became a defining moment in that young man’s life, all because Robin Williams had taken a few minutes to make him feel seen.

Another time, in Los Angeles, Robin was at a coffee shop when a family approached him, excited but hesitant. They had a young boy with them who was clearly in awe. Robin noticed the boy’s nervousness and immediately switched into his "Mrs. Doubtfire" voice, asking, “Hello, dears! How’s everyone doing today?” The boy’s face lit up, and he broke into a smile, instantly recognizing the familiar voice. Robin went on to entertain the entire family with voices and impressions, making sure the little boy felt like he was in a private comedy show. For Robin, it was never about just signing an autograph or taking a quick photo; he went the extra mile to ensure that every interaction was memorable and heartfelt.

One of the most heartwarming stories about Robin’s humility happened during a hospital visit. He often visited children’s hospitals, sometimes unannounced, donning his "Patch Adams" persona or other beloved characters. During one such visit, he met a young girl who was battling a serious illness. Robin sat beside her, held her hand, and spent nearly an hour cracking jokes, making faces, and bringing a genuine smile to her face. He never once looked at the clock or acted like he had somewhere else to be. For him, being there and bringing joy to that little girl was the most important thing he could be doing. Hospital staff recalled how Robin made sure that every child in the ward had a moment of laughter, even if it was just a few seconds. His humility wasn’t a show—it was genuine, unfiltered kindness.

Even outside of public spaces, Robin had a way of connecting with people in the most unexpected places. There’s a story of him at an airport lounge where a tired airline employee was working a double shift. Robin noticed the fatigue in her eyes and decided to lighten her mood. With his classic mischievous smile, he slid up to the counter and started speaking in a thick, exaggerated Russian accent, pretending to be an international spy who had lost his passport. The bewildered employee couldn’t help but laugh, even as he continued to spin an elaborate story of espionage and intrigue. For those few moments, her exhaustion was replaced with laughter, and her long shift suddenly didn’t seem quite so hard.

Robin’s kindness extended beyond spontaneous encounters. He was known for staying after his stand-up shows, often for hours, chatting with fans who waited just to say hello. One time, after a particularly long show, a fan nervously approached him, explaining how his comedy had helped her through a tough time. Robin listened attentively, asking questions and offering words of encouragement. When she thanked him and apologized for taking his time, he responded simply, “No, thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” For Robin, every fan interaction was a two-way exchange; he valued the connection as much as they did.

Perhaps one of the most surprising stories about Robin Williams happened during a taxi ride in New York. He struck up a conversation with the cab driver, who was excited but also overwhelmed to have the famous comedian in his backseat. Robin asked him about his life, his dreams, and his family, genuinely interested in hearing his story. By the end of the ride, Robin gave the driver a generous tip, but even more valuable was the memory he left behind. The driver later shared that Robin’s curiosity and warmth had made him feel important, as if his own life story was just as fascinating as any Hollywood film.

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks For the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Two

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 13.7k

Release date: Mon. February 5, 2024

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: Now aware of Seokjin's secret, you try to take some of his...techniques into your next stream. But how well will they pay off?

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, discussion of boundaries and triggers, Seokjin explains what bdsm is supposed to mean to us watching at home, internet/cyberbullying dynamics, boss/employee power struggles, discussions of consent, peer pressure, mention of threesome, implied chubby/fat reader (it's vague enough to not adopt a specific size), mention of sex toys, swearing, sexual fantasies, m masturbation, damn Seokjin has a boner so many times in this sorry, size kink, y/n assumes Seokjin's sexuality, porn simulation games, 1 (one) reference to Vine (RIP), Dom Seokjin, kink negotiation, mention of choking and improper bdsm practices, mention of urethral sounding (but not actually happening)

a/n: Ahh hello! First of all, thank you to everyone who has read TFTS so far! It really warms my heart knowing how well received it's been, and your comments and messaged have meant so much. I really wanted to emphasize discussions of consent and boundaries in this chapter. I was struggling to write for a little bit, and then suddenly I saw this one gif of Jin on my feed and my brain jimmy neutron brain blasted my way to a 13k length chapter. Hopefully I've proofread well enough, but if you spot some serious errors please let me know. -h

On Saturday afternoon, Seokjin woke up for the first time in what felt like forever feeling rested. After checking the weather app on his phone constantly throughout the night, he received the alert that heavy snowfall was causing delays in plowing and public transit. He messaged the opening crew, encouraging them to also enjoy the lie-in and prepare for a delayed open. Instead of falling into the semi-sickening lovefest of couples peeling each other’s perilla leaves or trying to feed each other lunch, he could be spared until the evening. 

Which was good, because Seokjin was exhausted. His live last night was not planned, but after closing and apologizing to you about his gross mismanagement of power, he needed to get out the pent-up frustration that crumbled the bones in his body from pressure. 

Sure, it was the right thing to do to apologize, even though he knew he would never be able to look at that prep counter, your wide, glassy eyes, and swollen lips the same way again. But it was important to him. He could never become the kind of man he watched his boss be to him or his wife, forcing his way past someone’s boundaries to get what they wanted. 

Even years later, Seokjin was convinced that had he not shared information about Soon Yi that intrigued his boss, if he’d maybe kept his personal and professional lives separate, things maybe would have been different. And now that he was in the position of power where he was someone else’s boss, wasn’t it his duty to make sure that didn’t happen to you too?

Seokjin almost lost all his control with you yesterday. From the moment you came in with a tired, croaky voice that greeted him “hi” before the sun had even come up, he knew he would be struggling for the rest of the day. 

During multiple points of your training, he had the urge to touch you, which was nearly impossible not to do, since so much of the guidance you needed came from hand-over-hand instruction as he showed you the fluid motions of safe chopping. When his large hands covered yours, Seokjin became aware of how tiny you were to him. Maybe not in all the places, but your height, your smaller hands, they showed him how easily and perfectly you slotted into his body, like a puzzle piece he didn’t know he could ever feel matched to. 

Maybe Seokjin executed this desire to touch you a little too dramatically. When he saw your misplaced cutting knife, he let that excuse lead him head-first into white hot desire, scolding you, watching you squirm a little as you felt embarrassed for losing focus. And that seemed to unlock some feral need in him, to get you to squirm a little more, to touch you and feel the velveteen softness of your forearms as he pinned you against the prep table. 

The little gasp you’d let out sent the blood straight to his cock, and to avoid you seeing how easy and embarrassingly you could undo him–how quickly one singular sound from you would make Seokjin rock hard and panting and under your complete power–he reacted, clasped your wrists, used some set of excuses to get closer, let his arm skim across your cheek to grab a packet of whatever the hell was above you. And the way you didn’t resist, didn’t pull away from his grasp showed him how good you could be, how obedient you were as you turned around when told. 

He should’ve stopped there, but you were standing in front of him, smelling a little bit like coffee and a fruity shampoo you used, your bodies only mere inches from full on contact. And Seokjin wanted more of a reason to hold onto you, to see what ways he could rile you up, whether you were cognizant or not of how, well, submissive you were to him. 

Most of his income from streams came from scenarios where Seokjin played into a softer role, which translated into the role of a submissive pretty boy, and usually a bottom. But for the first time in years, a rich, satisfying wave of dominance rolled back into his body and he welcomed it.

Seokjin knew better, but he couldn’t help himself. The one bit of control he maintained was in his refusal to let go of your hands, even after you had mastered the motions of your knife, possibly even better than Seokjin himself could chop. Because if Seokjin declawed himself from you, his hands would absolutely wander. Up the sleeve of your exposed forearms and down the swell of your breasts and full hips. 

His cock ached thinking about how plush and soft your body would be under his hands, how he wouldn’t have to worry about breaking you. He could safely grope your sides and not feel like he would pinch your bones together, and that was important, because Seokjin liked to be rough.

When that carrot fell, you couldn’t shake Seokjin’s desperate hands off yours and you carried him with you as you curved your body toward the floor to pick up your mess. Seokjin was blessed and cursed with the brief moment he got to touch more of you than he ever had as your ass rocked back and ground gently into him. 

He’d moaned, though he tried to disguise it as a grunt or scoff, but the way your delicious ass attracted him right in between the line of your cheeks practically begged him to rut against you. 

Your reaction of shock, though, halted him as he remembered you two were in the kitchen of his family’s restaurant. He scrambled to cover his dick before it became even more obvious and humiliating. 

And then you fell, because Seokjin was an idiot and forgot he had been holding onto you. 

The sound of your head crashing into the metal ricocheted through his ears, and your pained moan sent him spiraling in panic. He didn’t think. Seokjin wasn’t the best at remaining calm during potential medical emergencies, instead of electing to assess your wellbeing and check-in with you, he just reacted, plucking you off the floor and onto the counter.

You can’t manage a restaurant without carrying heavy sacks of rice or flour, cartons of vegetables or gallons of oils and liquids into the space. That, plus the fact that Seokjin did go to the gym to keep his figure, ensured that when he had to pull you up from the floor, he could do so with ease. Which thanks to his awful, overly enthusiastic libido, was really locking in some potential size kink. If Seokjin could hoist you onto the cold prep counter without breaking a sweat, it meant he could also hoist you onto other things, like his cock. Could bounce you up and down and see how those delicious, large tits would follow his pace.

Fuck. 

This was when Seokjin realized even though he was deeply, deeply interested in these fantasies, his reality was different. Because too easily he had dipped into some innate submissive part of you and decided to play with it and tease you for it. Too easily, he has erased any boundary between professional and personal, and now you are walking around with a giant bruise on your forehead. He used his power to manipulate you, didn’t he? While the tiniest part of him argued back, suggesting it was purely mutual attraction and biology, that he shouldn’t apologize because he swore he saw something in your eyes that almost guaranteed you wanted him too, this is why Seokjin had to apologize. The “almost” of it all. He wasn’t sure, which meant the uncertainty was a risk and just because he wanted something to be true didn’t mean it was. 

By the end of the day, the intense proximity to you and the memory of your lips parting to suck his tongue into your mouth had become too much. Seokjin turned on an impromptu stream to wallow in his self pity and direct that dominant energy into something that was far less harmful and at least lucrative. 

Now, as the winter’s dull afternoon light glowed through the city, Seokjin checked his phone, seeing that the evening crew leader had arrived and informed him that everything was covered and they wouldn’t need the extra help. 

With that update, Seokjin’s entire evening just became available, which was a rare thing for him since he moved up in his job role. But because of this, he was unsure what to do to pass the time. He cooked himself dinner, cleaned, and organized the jars in his refrigerator, needing to keep his hands busy to distract himself from thinking about you. 

His apartment looking immaculate and there no longer being anything else to clean, he finally fired up his computer to play games. Maybe this would serve as a proper distraction. His new PC was set to come early next week after being delayed by the snow. Despite Seokjin’s financial success since his start as a streamer, money to him was still something he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

After Worldwide Handsome took their cut from last night’s fifteen grand in earnings, he would be walking away with about ten thousand dollars. He would, albeit quietly, pour around seven thousand of those dollars into the restaurant, where the mom-and-pop feel of the small shop was starting to show its age.

Last week, he’d called a repairman to give him a quote about fixing a broken coil on one of the griddles. After a quick inspection, he was informed most of the unit was corroding, and it was time to seriously consider a replacement. Between that, the new register he ordered, and the walk-in freezer that was coughing its last breath, probably as we speak, Seokjin spent nearly forty grand in the last month with repairs and replacements to keep the shop running another day. 

His parents had insisted they’d pay for the expenses, but after the first few discoveries he’d made of the DIY wiring his father had tried in earnest to configure, Seokjin stopped alerting them to the updates he was making, hoping that distance, age, and some fairly similar looking appliances would allow for these changes to go undetected when they returned. He had seen what this place made. He’d seen his paycheck. There was no way in hell his father could afford an $18 to 25,000 walk-in freezer on their operating budget. 

Overall, Seokjin made plenty of money with streaming, but beyond some investments and his nice apartment, as well as a savings account to ensure he wasn’t completely destitute, he lived much below his means. When he hit goals during his streaming, it did really feel like he was winning big. To buy himself a new PC was something he knew he worked for.  

Just as he was browsing the new skins in the game store, he heard the familiar chime and his heartrate picked up. 

You were live. 

He hesitated. “No,” he said out loud to himself, his voice croaking after hours of not speaking. “Don’t even think about it.” 

He knew if he looked at you right now, all the distractions, the cleaning, the dedication to keeping himself busy, would be for nothing. It would be painful to look at you–probably all cozy with your hair pulled messily away from your face, your glasses hanging off your nose instead of your usual contacts–and not think about how merely hours ago he had your heat rubbed up against him. 

If he really wanted to torture himself, he would also think about how the casual, disheveled look you sported could have been something he woke up to this morning if he’d tried a little harder, the loose t-shirt you probably wore rising up while you slept next to him, exposing the soft tummy he knew hid under it. Maybe even one of your nipples would slip out, hard from the chill of the cold winter air bleeding into his apartment. 

But Seokjin wouldn’t torture himself. He knew better. When he exited his game, he definitely didn’t launch his web browser and go to your channel that was on his Favorites tab. And he definitely didn’t cup himself through his sweats as he watched you appear before him. 

If the idea of you in casual wear could make him this hard, the view of you now, as you sat on stream with a tight, low-cut top that showed the curve of your breasts and their delicious, lickable valley between them, could easily turn every part of him into stone. You did your makeup today. Let your hair delicately frame your face. You looked like you were logging on to lure your viewers to come to you like a siren. Seokjin wanted you to devour him. 

His cock twitched and he groaned. He was such a pervert. But whoever this Y/N was, she looked like she was ready to play some games, and not the kind that Seokjin was used to seeing on stream. 

“Well, hello,” you purred. Was this really happening? Who the fuck had possessed the wide-eyed, awkward gamer he was used to watching?

“I thought, given that it’s so close to Valentine's Day, and because I missed the stream last night, I would make it up to you.” 

Seokjin froze. How had he not known you were supposed to stream yesterday? He would’ve never let you stay so late. He shot you an apologetic text,and when he looked up from his phone, he saw some of the comments flooding into your feed:

Mingisaysrelax: Um…am I on the right website? 😏💦

MountainSan88:😳 

PizzaBoy97: You look really pretty 😍

MizzVyne: Is this allowed? IS THIS ALLOWED?

Seokjin watched as your chat exploded in response to your new look, clips being taken by the hundreds when you leaned down to adjust your seat and the tops of your breasts jiggled. Your mods seemed to be on top of things though, because as soon as he saw raunchy or hateful comments, they were swiftly being taken down. 

“I’m not going to read my comment section right now, but I assume you’re all a little shocked by my appearance. I don’t know, I was feeling a bit inspired by another streamer I watched last night when I got home from work. He had some really good ideas on um…stuff, and no I’m not going to share who he is because some of you will absolutely cyber bully him for being associated with me and he deserves better than that.” 

He. A pang of bitterness surged through Seokjin. It was laughable, really, how he was jealous because you were watching other male streamers when you got home from work, completely oblivious to how on another site he was jerking his aching cock to his viewers thanks to how worked up you made him. 

“But yeah, I’m going to switch up the stream in the second half, if you want to stick around and see.”

This really piqued his interest, pressing his palm down onto his erection to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

You frowned at your screen as you launched your game, some first person shooter that would hold your attention so you wouldn’t have to talk.

You opened your mouth to add something, but you were immediately dropped into your game, setting your jaw as you focused on the controls in front of you, occasionally panicking, key smashing so loud that it drowned out your squeals when you were knocked over and over again and needed a revive. 

Seokjin assumed whatever teammate who kept reviving you must’ve been a subscriber who was stream sniping…or reverse stream sniping? Stream assisting and reviving as you struggled your way through the game. 

Something really stuck with him as you played. Whoever this “mentor” was must have been well versed in the knowledge that on any streaming platform, sex sells, especially for women. Your new look was drawing in quite the crowd. He wasn’t sure he’d seen you have this many subs, points, or viewers while streaming before. It was like a switch flipped. 

He felt a tiny flutter of something like pride swell into his chest. You were becoming more confident every day he knew you, from your knife skills to school teaching to now streaming. 

“Oh shittttttt,” you groaned into your mic, ripping Seokjin away from his soft reverie and back into full on, desperate wanting. Maybe you were toeing the community guidelines with this stream, but that groan sounded almost pornographic coming out of your mouth, and any chance Seokjin had at trying to be respectful was long gone. 

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh you’re being a bad girl tonight I see,” he chuckled to himself.

Almost as if you heard him, you giggled back, biting your lip playfully. Fuck, what were you doing to him? Your chat seemed to be in a similar standing. 

As a result, One of the mods pinned an announcement to the top:

W0nW00: To maintain community guidelines and compliance, we are labeling this channel as 18+. We ask that you be respectful to Y/N and her moderators as we continue with this stream. If your account is set to under 18, you will be redirected in 2 minutes. 

Shit, all for a simple moan? 

You paused the game. “I’m going to go for a bio break. Be right back.” You set your break screen, and instead of the usual, cutesy graphic of a cherry blossom tree blowing in the wind that said “Spring Day Streams”, it was now a neon, vaporwave cityscape and said “Join Us For Spring Night Streams, An After Dark Experience”. 

Seokjin’s eyes wide, he finally released his cock from his sweats, and took himself in his hand. Oh, this was going to be good. 

Seokjin is a camboy.

That’s the only thought splitting through the headache you’ve had all morning. Is there such a thing as an orgasm hangover? Because if so, you’ve got one. If not, maybe you were concussed in the kitchen yesterday.

You’ve spent most of the day trying to clean up the mess of your apartment and frankly, your mental state. Seokjin spends his Friday nights Daddy domming his humble pool of viewers and making thousands of dollars doing so. To even think that sentence feels insane. 

And humiliating. Because attached to that sentence is the realization that Seokjin’s major success as a gay camboy means that he is absolutely not thinking about you the way you are of him, and the kiss you imposed on him at work was definitely not consensual after all, which when you think about it, is obvious based on how frantically he apologized and assigned himself at fault for what happened. He was trying in the most polite way to reject you. 

You’re an idiot. And despite all of it, the shame of your action isn’t what’s delivering the heavy punch; it’s the fact that your crush didn’t die the second you found out last night. If anything, you’ve been silently wallowing in your sadness since you woke up, your stupid heart not processing that there’s one significant reason for why you can’t have him. 

You try to trudge through the fog of it all, placing your newly cleaned toys back into their proper dust cases and compartments before returning them to the drawer next to your side table. You switch loads of laundry and drop the warm pile on your bed, grimacing at the idea of having to fold it all. 

You shouldn’t be disappointed. This is a stupid crush that was never meant to go this far. Not to this place where you aren’t just humiliated, but the loneliness that you often avoid feeling has been spilling through the cracks of your life all day. 

The laundry is the only thing that occupies one side of your bed. Never another body, his warmth, his weight existing as another living thing keeping your living thing company as you fold laundry or wash dishes. 

No, you shouldn’t have projected this crush or obsession or whatever you want to call it onto Seokjin, but in these months of conversation and blooming friendship, you’ve found your mind beginning to wander into the fantasy of not just sex, but safety and connection. He’s a man who has always treated you with the utmost respect, even now in how he has maintained a boundary that gently rejects you, even if it’s confusing. 

Before his promotion at the restaurant, there was collaboration that fostered your trust in him; your bodies started working around each other like dancers, fusing your movements with a natural flow. You’d seen some of that pop up throughout the day yesterday, which you couldn’t help but feel like delivered a bit of hope in your stomach. 

You know it’s useless to continue hoping that something will change. Maybe he’s bi, you’ve thought a few times since you went to bed. He did call everyone a good girl. But, don’t some guys call each other girls as some kind of kink? But even hoping for that still feels wrong in your gut. Instead of wishing he just so happens to like pussy, you should be redirecting yourself from the fact that it doesn’t even matter. He said so himself, he’s your boss. 

“Ugh,” you groan into your unfolded laundry. Why can’t anything ever be easy? 

You shove the clothing pile to one side of your bed as you lie down, staring up at the ceiling, your eyes following the soft pattern of cracks that have begun to appear through the paint. You already know that going back to work on Monday will be awful, not just because this crush won’t crush itself, but because you clearly now know more about Seokjin than he perhaps ever wanted you to know. Won’t it be awkward trying to talk to him? And if he asks why you’re being so weird, what will you even say?

Sorry Seokjin, I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore because I spent Friday cumming while watching you on your gay cam show as you stroked your huge dick and admittedly once I saw your face connected to your dick I had the best orgasm of my life that rendered me useless the next day.

Perfect. This won’t be absolute hell at all. 

Your stream alarm rings on your phone. You sigh. That’s right. You promised a makeup stream to your followers. 

How did Seokjin stream so confidently? Last night, the way he just exuded dominance and control, how he managed to get so much money from sitting there and making his chat do the work? It’s not only impressive but also inspiring. If you were able to have that distance from your chat, maybe things would be a bit easier, and the questions that were so personal and directed would fade into the background while ones of adoration and impersonal fantasies could take their place. 

And the money, god. If you had money like that, you wouldn’t have a stack of financial aid forms sitting on your dresser right now waiting for you to basically jump through hoops to ask nicely for a loan. 

The way he was able to be so different and make money off of it? That feels promising to you too. Because whoever Daddy Dom Seokjin is, he isn’t just walking around in the world being “on” all the time. You know him as someone whose ears flush with embarrassment the second one of the delivery guys tells him he made an error with the order and tries to diffuse the tension with some free snacks; who often hums game scores and whose laugh sounds like a squeaky windshield wiper swiping across dried glass. 

What if you could be more like that? 

Not Daddy Dom or Mommy Y/N, but more casual and detached? You could stop reading your chat and answering questions. Or if you did want to play into some of Seokjin’s sex appeal, you could dress slightly more suggestively or do your hair and makeup to exploit the male gaze’s money a bit, just like how Seokjin did. 

In this world of streaming, where everything feels like fractured versions of reality, parts of you being split among the pixels and delivered and digested into someone else’s home for their entertainment and pleasure, it’s hard for you to ever feel like you can have some close community with your followers. Not like Wonwoo does with his. Because of your start and how people perceive you now, there just doesn’t seem to be a way for you to have intimacy. Even if you tried, your chat flies by so quickly now that unless it’s a notification from a mod, any usernames and personal anecdotes are lost before you can even know who’s who. 

You think about it for a bit. It can’t hurt to try, right? It’s not like you being a little less reserved would automatically launch you into a career in porn. And if it will help bring a little more income in, lessen the blow a tiny bit, you can’t really see why it would make sense to keep doing things this way when you are this miserable by the idea of it. 

Spring Day Streams holds a standard image that is pink and soft, and you know some people love watching you because you’re hitting some fantasy they have. The woman who looks like an angel but swears like a sailor and as stereotypes often assume, fucks like a demon. 

What could “fuck like a demon” look like on an often all ages game streaming platform, though? Well, not all ages. Some streams are only accessible to registered users over the age of 18. Usually the age filter is there because the game is super graphic, or the streamer is a sex educator or swears so much the algorithm has started penalizing them. A few times though, you’ve seen some streamers playing games that are so raunchy they’re basically porn. And porn versions of those games exist, but to keep some of them streamer-friendly, they also sell versions that don’t have uncensored anime girls receiving creampies. That would definitely maintain the brand without going too far, right? 

You open your phone, typing in some of the titles of games, mostly dating simulators you’ve seen other streamers play before, and then you stumble across one called MiCamStudio, a puzzle game with the plot where you’re the manager of a camgirl enterprise and your goal is to become the most successful, richest entrepreneur while keeping your girls happy. 

You laugh. It feels a bit on the nose, but a fun way to shake things up in an after-dark concept. And it’s not too expensive, which means if this entire plan bombs, you won’t have invested much into it. Fine, you’ll do it. 

Wonwoo responds right away after you shoot a quick message with your idea to your mods on discord to help them prepare. 

On it. 

With a deep breath, you start to get ready. 

As you brace yourself to come back from your short bio break and announcement, your heart is hammering in your ears. What if everyone left? What if things get weird or gross or you think you’re being kind of sexy and cute but are really just being an idiot? 

Suddenly, this entire idea seems so stupid. What if your mom decides this is finally the time she wants to watch you stream? She hasn’t ever had the interest to, but what if she finally thinks to herself on a random Saturday night in February, “Wow, I sure do crave watching some video game streams! Say, I know my daughter Y/N streams. I should check it out!” or worse, what if someone she knows sends one of the clips or a screenshot of you with your tits practically out? 

Your anxiety is starting to win in this battle, and as you pace back and forth in front of your computer, shaking your clammy hands and trying to remember how to breathe, you see the number of viewers has dropped since the stream moved from all ages to 18+. Which means that you can now read your chat again. 

The comments are actually really supportive. Among them are some of your mods cheering you on, but one username anchors you back into your chair as you watch the notification dance across the screen. 

JokeJinSeokjin has subscribed for 3x months!

Seokjin. Seokjin is live and watching you. Which you expect to be the thing that will throw you over the edge. Seokjin, your boss. Your kind of friend. Your crush. The man who you are trying to emulate in this attempt to be sexy and earn more money and confidence. 

Surprisingly, a warm glow of comfort settles in you stomach instead. Because while maybe in all of this mess there’s plenty to be anxious about, you feel a part of you that’s determined to make him proud, to show him in this rejection what he’s missing out on. You take a deep breath to steady yourself as you hit the button to come back. 

“Ah, hello! I mean-um, hello,” you catch the nervousness pouring out of your shaky voice and clear your throat, trying to sound more composed. 

“I wanted to try something new today. Well, tonight. Welcome to Spring Night Streams, where I’ll be playing some not safe for work in more of a raunchy way type of games. Because as we know if there’s blood and guts and horror, it’s all ages! But boobs, those are a no no!”

You shakily laugh and suck your lip into your teeth. The taste of your lipstick laths over your tongue and you try not to think about how messy you just made it look. Or how you might now have lipstick on your teeth to really add an effect of clownery to your poor jokes. 

“I’m going to play this game? It came out a few years ago, but it’s a puzzle game called MiCamStudio. Maybe some of you have played it. But uh, yeah if you don’t like things like that I can always um…well I’ll just try it and see…” you trail off and nervously fidget with your controls as you open the game. 

Whatever you were expecting out of a dating simulator type game where you were in charge of cam girls, it wasn’t this. When you open the menu to start a new game, the animation that loads after you click “Start Streaming” is dozens of bra-clad boobs bouncing across the screen as it transitions you to the story line menu. 

Jesus Christ. Heat floods your cheeks. This somehow feels worse than the time your earbuds died and you didn’t notice that the audiobook of a very spicy holiday romance you were listening to wasn’t coming through them, but your phone. On the bus. And to make matters worse, you were at a part where the narrator was very generously providing sound effects and moans for the main character as she participated in an orgy with triple penetration. Yikes. 

You begin the walk-through of the storyline, greeted by Candy, a pink haired, busty camgirl who is looking to expand her horizons in the business. As you tap through the prompts, Candy starts to become less dressed, abandoning her already tiny skirt and crop top combo for a barely-there set of lingerie that covers just her nipples and vagina. 

“I need your help!” Candy pouts, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I need 400 new fans for my business or else I’ll be out of work! Quick, use this magic wand as you solve puzzles to help me get closer to my goal!” 

The wand is, of course, a vibrator. When you play through the first level tutorial and are prompted to use the wand, it vibrates the blocks, shifting them into new positions on the screen to match colors together. If you get enough combos, she has a giant orgasm, which increases her fans so you can pass to the next level. 

As you work through some of the first few levels, you notice that your view count has recovered somewhat from earlier, though the comments are kind of off-putting. Not because people are being sexually inappropriate, but because they’re mad you’re not interacting with them. 

NGL I thought this was going to be more fun and naughty. 

Yeah now she’s not even talking to us at all. 

I miss when she was bad at games and it was at least interesting. 

Someone come get me if she starts moaning again like she did earlier. 

Fuck. You are fucking this up. And your viewers are right, you haven’t been talking to them. Or really doing anything but playing the game and trying not to wince from embarrassment every time Candy moans as you make her a star. 

There’s got to be something you can do. You think about Seokjin again, who you’re not sure is still watching, but you hope some of that confident edge he had last night starts to come over you, too. What was it that he did to keep everyone engaged? 

He gave them incentive. A goal. He didn’t have to say much to them but tell them what to do and they happily did it. And that also took the pressure off of him to keep talking. 

With a deep breath, you test the waters. “Oh, you wanted more fun and naughty? Well, you didn’t really work for it did you?” 

You hate the words as they come from your mouth, but they have an immediate result. 

Loyal2You tipped 1600 points. What do you need us to do to earn it?

Your face burns hot, and you sip some water to try and cool yourself, playing it off as nonchalance rather than anxiety. You feel your stomach threatening to lurch into your throat as you force out the next sentence.  

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe you need to show me what I need,” you smirk. You really don’t know. Money? Subs? People not questioning you? This to be over?

LongJohn69 gifted 10 subs. Maybe this will help? 😉

“Well, it’s a start. Thanks for the sub,” you giggle, forcing yourself to relax into your chair. 

“Hmm, what can I give you all as a reward? I feel like I could really use some cute new clothes that I can wear for you next stream if you help me?” 

Your voice is softened and the pitch is a bit higher. Maybe Candy’s baby voice is having an impact on you from the game, because your normal, even paced tone is taking a turn. Is this the persona you’ve been trying to find? 

But you need this money. School, your future. You can’t just keep living the way you have been. 

7DaysAWeek tipped 10,000 points. Please, say “thank you 7 days” in that adorable whiny voice, baby. I’ll double tip if you do.

You freeze. 20,000 points is $200. All for you to say something so simple and stupid? 

God, but it doesn’t feel right to do it. You could ignore it, you think. And walk away with $100 before your commission rate is taken out. Which will end up being nothing, you realize.

“Oh, hmm.” You pause and then just do it. “Okay. Thank you 7 Days for the points. I really appreciate it.” You drum up the dramatics, eliciting some horrible, embarrassing baby voice that makes your vowels stringy and weak. 

Yuck. More requests pour in, people eager to get you to recite some innocent seeming phrases that you know are fodder for their spank bank. 

You see a tiny notification flash in the bottom right corner: a private message from Wonwoo. 

Y/N, you could get into deep shit if you aren’t careful. This could potentially violate your terms of service. 

You frown at the message but nod to let him know you read it. 

“Okay, well, I think it’s time we get back to the game!” You awkwardly divert your attention back to the screen, letting Candy’s moans fill the silence as you ignore the new requests and subs for the rest of your stream, too humiliated to think about what they could be saying.

After you end your stream, you feel the damn of tears that was welling your eyes for the last half hour spill. 

What a fucking disaster. What started as a hopeful night turned out to be one of your most streamed yet somehow also least successful broadcasts. The rush of viewers at the start provided you with a great boost, but after you didn’t engage again with the requests, your views, subs, and points plummeted, leaving you with a very slim payout for the day. This wouldn’t be much of anything for your bills once commission is taken. 

You don’t know how people do this. You feel like absolutely dog shit, and you even wrapped early, pretending that you were sick. But maybe you also aren’t really pretending, your stomach feels knotted and sour. 

Something about that felt wrong, but you don’t really understand why. It’s not like you’re prudish or fear sex. On any given day those kinds of requests stack up by the hundreds. But maybe it’s because tonight you finally peeled back the dismissive layer and let them in that has you feeling vulnerable and honestly, a little dirty. 

You wipe some stray tears from your eyes, stretching across the desk to grab your phone and pull it off of do not disturb mode. You see a few texts from Seokjin that he sent while you were streaming. 

Seokjin (8:17PM): Hey! I didn’t know you were supposed to stream yesterday. I would have let you leave early if I’d known.😞

Seokjin (9:15PM): Hey, are you okay? You look really uncomfortable. I know you’re playing and won’t see this until after you’re done but I wanted to check. 

Seokjin (9:47PM): Y/N, please don’t feed into these requests if it’s not what you want. 

Seokjin (10:02PM): Call me. The second you get this. Urgent.

You read the last text, which was sent twenty minutes ago. Shit, did something happen to the restaurant? 

“Y/N,” Seokjin says after one ring, his voice strained. 

“Um, hi Seokjin. I’m just calling you back because you said it’s urgent! Is everything okay with the restaurant? Did the snow knock power out or something? If you need me to come in tomorrow too I can help with stuff.”

“What?” Seokjin pauses for a second, his exasperation now turned to confusion. “No, Y/N. Everything with the restaurant is fine.”

“Oh. Then why did you call?” you ask. 

“Well, if you saw all my texts then you know I was watching your stream. And I just wanted to check and make sure you’re okay after that? Near the end you looked pretty upset.”

The warmth in your stomach you felt when you first heard his voice is gone, replaced by a sharp, gritty unease.

“Oh. Um, yeah I’m…fine,” but the tightness in your throat betrays you and a tiny sob escapes as the tears begin falling again. 

Seokjin doesn’t say anything as you sniffle into your phone, scrubbing the dribble away from your nose and cheeks with your sleeve. 

“Hey,” he says as your cries become softer. “Do you want to get out of the house for a bit?”

“It’s kind of late, isn’t it,” you say weakly. 

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want to get out of the house for a bit?” He repeats. 

Do you? Part of you is exhausted, tempted to just go right to bed. But you know if you lie down right now in the rest of that unfolded pile of laundry you might never emerge. 

“Ok,” you whisper into the receiver. 

“I’ll come get you,” Seokjin says. “Dress warm. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

When you were little, your parents took you on a road trip to get away from the city. You sat in the backseat, kicking your father’s chair grumpily on the first day, tired from waking up early and having to be stuffed into the car with the mountain of snacks, toys, clothes, and camping gear you had shoved in beside you. Your father was patient for the first hour of your kicks, but before long the steady thump thump thump on his lower back was becoming a strong annoyance as he navigated further away from home. 

“Y/N,” your father had sharply warned once he’d had enough. “Keep it up, and I’ll take your feet off and put them into my pockets.” 

While in retrospect the threat is silly and impossible, at the time, your five-year-old self was struck with horror as you imagined him sawing your feet off like the patients who were out in the snow for too long in that medical TV show you saw at your grandparents’ house once.

You’d tucked your feet underneath you until you were at a rest stop, where picnic tables and a small garden scape awaited you, filled with native wildflowers and lazy, fat bees that hovered from flower to flower. 

Your mother smoothed your hair with her hand, guiding you through the garden as your father bought your lunches from inside the building. 

“He didn’t mean it,” she’d said softly, feathering the tips of your hair across your cheek. Goosebumps prickled along your arms and you shivered, even though the sun was heavy and hot on top of you that day. “No one will take your feet from you.” 

You’d hugged her tightly then, still unsure as to why someone would try to take your feet from you. Your tapping in the car was mostly to keep you from feeling like you were going to be sick, but back then you didn’t really have the words to express yourself. 

When your father returned, he wordlessly placed your meal in front of you, including a large, fudgy cookie for dessert. Your father had always been proud, and even then when he didn’t apologize to you and promise he wouldn’t saw off your feet, being given a dessert was as good as any apology. 

He smiled when you licked the smudged chocolate off your fingers, eventually tutting impatiently so your mother would take you to the bathroom to wash up. Afterwards, you found him looking at a map on the building’s outside wall, with a bright cherry red You Are Here sticker signifying where in this confusing picture you were supposed to be. 

“There’s an observation point a few stops away from here. It’s supposed to be a really nice view over a valley. Y/N, do you want to be our navigator for those and help me decide when we should stop to look?” 

Laced in there was his apology. An opportunity at redemption, connection. You’d nodded instantly and scrambled back into the car, no longer upset about having to share your space in the backseat with all the cargo, ready to take on your role as your father’s co-pilot. 

You visited every observation point along that freeway that trip, all the way from the rest stop to the campground in some rural village. Some of the spots were lackluster, now overgrown and showing a view of a wall of trees and bushes and not some regal cavern or farmland below. But there were also the ones that, had you never insisted on visiting, you would have never seen half as much of the flora and fauna you’d expected to see on your camping trip. And it was the one major trip your family had ever had that made you all feel like a collective unit, ready to fight against the forces of grumpiness or foot-sawers together.

From that point on, whenever you saw the sign marker, you couldn’t help but feel a smile bloom on your face, which is why at this moment you are sitting next to Seokjin in his car, bundled up and stupidly beaming at him as he mirrors a happy but confused smirk back at you.

When he’d picked you up, Seokjin didn’t say much, just started driving north, through your neighborhood and into the rolling hills outside of the city. While this morning’s snow still clings to the trees and rooftops of some hillside buildings, surprisingly, the plows have done a good job of ensuring the road is safe and salted. You can feel the tense knots in your shoulders starting to lessen a little just from the feeling of being somewhere else for a while.

As you weave up the mountain side, toward the observation point, you gasp. 

“What?” he asks. “What’s wrong?’ His eyes bulge from his head. 

“It’s just that, I love observation points,” you say sheepishly, not sure if you should divulge your entire story. 

Seokjin nods, thoughtful. “I like to come up here sometimes when I’ve had a really bad day. Just need to clear my head. Seemed like you needed to do that too.” The car curves along the bend, some of the wind fluttering clods of snow from the trees and onto the road. 

“Yeah, I do…” You trail off, letting him take you higher into the mountain before pulling into the observation point. This one has some small cafés and despite the late hour and snowfall, there are still quite a few cars parked in the lot, some sets of families and couples strolling around with warm drinks and peering out onto the twinkling, snow-covered city below. 

“How’s your head,” he asks gently, and it takes you a minute to remember what he’s referring to. You touch the make-up covered bruise and shrug.

 “Eh, it’s not so bad.” Truly, as the day wears on, you are feeling a bit tender, but the swelling has gone down, and your worry has gone with it. 

Seokjin opens your door for you, ever the gentleman, and you try to fight off the harsh tug in your chest that likens this behavior to a date. 

The two of you head over toward one of the lookout points, leaning against the rail posts. You take in the rolling hills below, how soft and plush the city looks now, almost like it could never be a place where you feel sadness or loneliness. You sigh. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Seokjin begins gently, “but I was wondering what happened during your stream tonight.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure him. 

Maybe this conversation would feel more uncomfortable if you didn’t already feel so awful. You are just trying to feel a little bit better about this whole ordeal. Trying to find in you some nugget of comfort to ensure a more stable future. And hell, Seokjin had made it seem so easy. But now, you are humiliated. You aren’t sure how you are going to go live again and go back to how things were before when the internet is probably making a giant laughing stock of you, or fetishizing you. You’re not sure which one is worse. 

“So, I know when we used to be, um, friends, I had mentioned to you that streaming is something I fell into. And as you also know from working with me, I don’t have the best social skills. Or I can, maybe, I don’t know. Anyway, I haven’t been liking it that much, really. Mostly because people in the chat always ask really personal questions about me and it feels weird. Like they’re real people but they can’t be real, to me. Does that make sense?”

He nods once, urging you to continue. 

“Right, so, in all of this, I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it more fun for me. And last night I saw you-YouTuber. I saw this YouTube streamer and on his stream he just seemed so cool, and smart. And he was able to both stay engaged without telling everyone everything and had distance. But he also was kind of domin-strong, he was just really good at telling people to meet goals and incentives. And it worked, they did it. I thought, maybe this could help me be better at this so I don’t hate it so much. I could make some persona, do something different that helps me better enjoy it or make more money. I don’t know. It seems stupid now when I think about it.”

“It’s not stupid, Y/N,” Seokjin says, turning to you. Your eyes flit to his face. His nose is pinkish from the cold, and his broad shoulders are tightly bound up to his ears to avoid the chill from spreading. 

“Of course you should like streaming, but if you don’t, if this isn’t the formula that works for you, then maybe you should try something different to help you.”

“How do you do it?” you ask, realizing too late what you are saying. 

Seokjin freezes. “Do what?”

“Um, how do you maintain confidence all the time? Like at work and stuff.”

Seokjin scoffs. “I don’t. You know that. Weren’t you just with me last week when I was bowing and spluttering like an idiot to Mrs. Yoon because that one repair man backed his car over her potted azalea? I was anything but confident then.” 

You fight a soft smile. Seokjin had been trying to scoop the twiggy, out of season bush into a bucket to salvage it before offering to replace it. Mrs. Yoon however, was having none of it, chirping on about how that plant had been germinated from her ancestors’ hillside home generations ago, and despite her choosing to carelessly plop it into a busy alleyway, she was sure there was no replacement that could soothe her aching heart. Seokjin handed her a wad of cash, and a gift certificate to the restaurant in an act of good faith. That seemed to shut her up. 

“You know what I mean,” you nudge. “You have an ability to talk to people though. Even Mrs. Yoon can’t say no to your mother’s bossam recipe when you charm her like that.” 

“First of all, no one can say no to my mother’s bossam recipe, regardless if I’m there to grovel or not. Secondly, you’re charming too, Y/N.”

You chortle at this. You? Charming? “Ha, I wish. But really, Seokjin. Half of that stream was an awkward setup and I thought I was going to puke. And not because of how I was dressed or anything like that. It’s so weird. I don’t really care about if people make comments like that about me because they’re impersonal. But knowing that I am sitting there, and everyone has some expectation of how I’m going to perform for them, it makes me feel awful.” 

“Tell me about it,” you hear him mutter, but he then recovers. “It sounds like that crossed one of your boundaries, then. Just because some explicit stuff doesn’t bother you, doesn’t mean that nothing ever will. And it doesn’t have to make sense. You can not care if strangers are talking about you sexually but care if you’re engaging with them and using sexual innuendos to do so.” 

Part of you is tempted to engage with the comment, to press him to explain and pretend that you have no idea what he’s speaking in regard to. But what good would that do here? Please Seokjin, can you share with me how being a gay sex cammer, which I absolutely already know about after watching you and masturbating to you, has impacted your life? 

God, how mortifying it would be for you. 

Instead, you let the comment go, cutting him enough slack so he can assume you didn’t hear him. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Seokjin adds. You shoot him a look. 

“I don’t really have much of a choice at this point! No offense, but it’s not like I’m making bank at the restaurant, and I already have chosen to withdraw from this term because of billing issues and–” 

“You’re withdrawing from school? Y/N!” He yells,  and you feel a heat of shame flood your cheeks as you see some scattered people shift their attention toward you. 

Now you were both embarrassed and pissed. How dare he scold you?

“Not from school, just the term!” you yell back. You’d made the choice in your spiral this evening, in between bio breaks. It was haunting you as you stared back at the packet of financial aid papers and billings notices. Streaming, you’ve now seen, is such a hit or miss game. And you truly can’t maintain the expenses that can cut into your work hours. Especially if you need to get a different job that isn’t streaming or working at the restaurant. 

“Is..is that where Spring Night Streams is coming from?” he asks, face flushed with embarrassment at his outburst. Your anger dulls.

“Partially. This felt like some way to sustain myself without it draining me. I thought maybe if I look pretty, people won’t just come and try to either ask me super personal things I don’t want to share, or they’ll just feed into basically the illusion of sex and pay me that way. And I can continue to play games and suck at them or be good at them, but the original reason behind why they came to my stream could be replaced with a different person, someone who isn’t so closely trying to dig into me.

“But, then I fumbled the bag, and you saw it. The viewer count was fluctuating so bad, and the second I interacted with that one comment, suddenly I was toeing the line for TOS and could easily have jeopardized my entire branding and be permanently banned from the website for sexual activity. Tonight was one of the lowest payouts I’ve made since I started. And now I know too, this could all just as easily go away if I’m not being…I don’t know. Compliant.” 

Seokjin makes a dissatisfied grunt, his breath coming out in a white puff. Now past eleven, most of the couples and families have dispersed, and the cute café that had advertised decadent looking hot chocolates is closed. The only thing remaining open is the tiny convenient store. 

You try to suppress a shiver but fail. 

“Come on,” he says, guiding you away from the railing and toward the store. 

Inside, the shopkeeper doesn’t even flinch or look away from his phone, which is streaming some sports match in Spanish. 

Seokjin places his hand on the small of your back as he guides you over to the drinks section, gesturing for you to select something from the warm options. 

“I wouldn’t recommend anything pre-made,” he warns, his voice low. “That stuff has probably been here since this morning.” He helps himself to a tea packet and the hot water dispenser. 

You browse a little and find a packet of hot chocolate. While it may not be the fancy, marshmallow delight pink drink that the café had advertised in their window, this will do just fine. 

By the time you’ve gotten your drink mixed together, Seokjin is waiting for you at the counter, a selection of different snacks piled high and a gentle smile on his face despite how bothered and grumpy the shop worker is toward him, practically smashing the food into a bag and muttering a total. 

You hadn’t given yourself a chance to really look at him before, but as he stands before you, you can finally take in how incredible he looks. While he’s wearing some gray joggers underneath, he’s elected for a long black puffer coat and green knit sweater and somehow looks so put together, so…boyfriend. 

Your heart flutters a bit and you try to tamp it down. This isn’t a date, you remind yourself, Get a hold of yourself Y/N. 

As you head back out into the chilly air, you both settle into a table outside of the convenience store, and Seokjin pulls the snacks out of the bag, all of which are your favorites. 

“You remembered?” you ask, a little stunned that he would commit all your tiny convenience store runs to memory over the months you’ve worked together and would split packets of sweet potato puffs and tiny, sweet cakes. He shrugs. 

“Morale is low. You need the boost. Now pass me some of those chips, I’m starving.” 

Your stomach growls in agreement, and you pop open the bag, nibbling away quietly. 

“You don’t need to people please to be a good streamer,” Seokjin says finally, rinsing his mouth with his tea. You chew your bottom nervously but wait for him to continue. “There’s tons of people on the internet who do streaming for all kinds of uh, stuff. And they make a ton of money without compromising their values to do so. Maybe instead of focusing on what you think people want in a stream, do what you want instead.” 

You sigh. “See, that sounds great and all, but when I tried that today, people got mad and left. Did you see all the donations trying to get me to say things or do stuff after that first one?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, taking a big bite of a chocolate cake thing and chewing diligently. “Welrr,” he begins, his mouth stuffed full, “I guesh you have to undershtand dat peepo on dee internet will always chewz sex first to get what dey wan.” He swallows. “And if that doesn’t work because someone sets a boundary, fuck them.” He pauses. “Not literally!” A blush creeps up his neck. 

You laugh. “I thought you limited your swearing to mostly angry kitchen interactions,” you say, and sip the watery hot chocolate. You wince. 

“You chose wrong with that hot chocolate. I’ll make it up to you next time.” Next time. Your stomach leaps. 

“But you don’t see it because I’m trying to maintain a professional air most of the time. But I say shit, piss, cock and fuck pretty regularly.” Like when you’re camming, you mentally note. 

“Yeah, so, speaking of that. And boundaries. This isn’t really the most professional boss-employee relationship happening right now.” You gesture around you. You didn’t want to say it, but you know it needs to be addressed. Seokjin and you really need to figure out a new set of rules, especially now you know what he does after dark, and he’s watching your streams, too. 

He pauses and sighs. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Look Y/N, I do want to talk about that. And we can address it. But before we do, I want to finish talking to you about what happened earlier today. Can we do a brief boss-employee dynamic halt for the rest of the time we’re up here? I want to talk to you as a friend right now, which we once were, even if it was for a short time. Will you let me do that?” 

You look up at him, and he’s gazing back with intensity, and also something that looks almost like desperation. 

“Okay,” you say. “For the rest of the time we’re out of the city. We are just two people. Friends. Not boss. Not an employee. Just us.” 

He smiles at that. “Yeah, just us.” 

Seokjin tried to not kick himself in his own ass for doing what he was doing now. Bringing you up here, to his safe place, was far too intimate of a decision. But when he’d watched the rest of your stream, watched you do stuff that– while he couldn’t be absolutely sure but he could assume– tested your boundaries and comfort, he knew he couldn’t just let you spiral by yourself. 

He’d been there before. During a show earlier in his cam career, Seokjin was once asked to try a more extreme kink on his stream which involved a thin metal rod that he would push into his urethra for pleasure. 

He’d agreed to try it before he’d even looked it up, and even when purchasing the equipment, he’d felt really queasy and knew he would hate it. But he’d promised, which he now understood was a fake law people set for themselves to push them past their limits. On the stream where he tested it out, he started shaking and crying, stopping before he could even open the package with the rods in it and ended his stream early. 

From then on, he had spent more time learning about kinks and BDSM. It was much more psychological and technical than he’d realized, with precise and careful movements, components of care, and more thoughtfulness than he’d ever really learned from porn or the internet. 

While he and Soon Yi had been exploratory in their sex life, it wasn’t like they’d ever done proper research when they were together. Looking at things now, he felt a little sickened knowing she could have gotten seriously hurt the times he choked her, not knowing the right placement of hands or pressure to make sure he didn’t cause permanent damage. 

Seokjin then reassessed his boundaries. He never wanted to position himself on his streams where he would succumb to pressure for money and compromise his own safety or desire. This was supposed to be fun.

The main tenets of BDSM are safe, sane, and consensual, which is hard to define on the internet. When something is leaked or found by the wrong party, it can especially compromise consent. With a permanent imprint of something existing once agreed upon, at any point someone’s right to withdraw consent can be invalidated simply because there’s a paper trail. And if that happened, then safety and sanity were sure to be called into question too.

Which is why Seokjin couldn’t stay silent after he saw you drawing breath after shaky breath after the first exchange with that follower. The instant regret that bloomed on your face as you so easily traded your comfort to make money, he never wanted you to feel that or experience it again. 

Which is why you now sat before him, the residual makeup from your stream still there but smeared, a thin looking peacoat doing a lot of work to protect you from the elements. This is why he said dress warm. Why were you wearing a glorified blazer in this weather?

He knew his time was limited with you, and that yes, he was already compromising this boundary that he’d set. But boundaries could be redrawn, and in this moment, he didn’t want the only thing protecting you right now to be that peacoat. He needed to protect you too. 

Granted, you probably were questioning his qualifications in this, and for a brief moment he considered telling you, but he quickly dismissed the idea when he remembered the video of him cumming and saying your name existed on his page if you’d ever gotten curious. Behind a paywall, sure, but it was there. 

No, for now, it was Seokjin and Y/N, friends. Us, he thought, and his pulse quickened unhelpfully. 

You sat in front of him, sipping at that awful hot chocolate, waiting for him to deliver more of his advice. He hesitated to speak more. Here you were, attention fully focused on him, and the dependence on him to get you home tonight, to move back into a world that wasn’t just you two and your own little universe, and all Seokjin was doing was considering how long he could carry on the pause. 

Maybe he would never speak again, and you would have to stay here forever, on top of the mountain as the snow began to gently fall around you two like you both lived in your own private snow globe. 

Wait, snow? Seokjin blinked, and sure enough the flakes were swirling around you both again, the wind kicking up your hair. You let out a sharp shiver, and that broke the fantasy of staying here. 

He ushered you back to the car, where now the snow was coming down in thick, heavy globs that signified the moisture in the air had increased, which made sense. Back in the city, the forecast had said it was set to rain, but he’d forgotten elevation impacts the weather, and that the change of moisture in the air also could result in ice on the way down. 

As you warmed your hands in front of his heat vents, he tried to think of his next move. It was now after midnight, which meant the road authority was probably not planning on plowing the roads anytime soon, and the accumulation quickly erasing the parking lot around you was a sure sign that it soon would be unsafe to drive. 

If you stay here any longer, you might be stuck together all night, an evil idea glinted through his head, and he felt a pulse of desire run through him as he caught a whiff of your soft, sweet scent. 

It would be kind of hot, the two of you snuggled in the backseat of his SUV, you clinging to him tightly to keep yourself warm through the storm as you used his parka as a blanket, the windows fogging up to give you two privacy as you moved tighter together, panting into each other’s mouths when you rubbed up against him and–

No. He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. Urging his steadily inflating erection down, he glanced over to you, noticing you were still shivering. 

He sighed. God, why did he have to get hard right now, in gray sweatpants no less? Nothing screamed “boner alert” more than seeing a dick swelling in light colored sweats. But you were still cold, and he decided he would rather risk you seeing him hard than your teeth chattering or you getting sick. 

Seokjin removed his puffer, handing it to you. “Here, put this on,” he ordered, and you looked at him, a tremor rocking through your body as you tried to eke out a “thank you”.

You began to put the puffer over your peacoat, but Seokjin shook his head. “I think your peacoat is useless right now. Maybe you should take that off and just wear mine. And then, consider getting a new coat,” he teased. 

You hesitated. “Uh,” you said. Seokjin’s eyebrow raised, and he swiftly adjusted himself in his joggers while you looked down at your coat before sighing and unbuttoning it. 

Fuck. You still had on that same top from earlier, and Seokjin could now see that it wasn’t just a sexy, low cut top that showed your heavy and full breasts, but that it also had a large keyhole cutout through the back, which meant you didn’t wear a bra with it. He bit his lip as he took in your hard and prominent nipples. God, no wonder you were cold. You were practically naked. 

His cock twitched, and any attempts he had at concealing his erection were useless. He was now definitely going to be fully hard for the rest of the drive. 

You zipped yourself into Seokjin’s puffer and let out a satisfied sigh as you nuzzled into the warmth. Seokjin took the opportunity to snatch your peacoat from your lap and drape it over himself, praying that would help conceal some of the compass-pointing-north bullshit he was trying to stave off. 

Unfortunately, you snuggled into his coat was just making it worse. 

Clearing his throat, he started the car, and slowly began testing the surface of the parking lot. It was a little slick, but nothing too bad. If you stayed any longer, though, you would definitely be here overnight. 

With a silent, sad nod to the outlook point, Seokjin prepared himself to head back to reality, where your moment of connection would be replaced by workplace congeniality. 

About halfway down the mountain, the snow surely turned to a heavy rain, aggressively battering down on the windshield and making it nearly impossible to find the lines on the road. 

“I’m sorry, I think I should pull over,” he apologized and you agreed easily, your shoulders relaxing a bit as he pulled over to the side of the road. 

“Well, we never really got to finish talking about stuff anyway,” you offered generously. 

Seokjin smirked back. “Yeah, we didn’t. Look, what I wanted to say earlier was that with streaming, you shouldn’t have to compromise on what you want to be successful. If people leave your stream because they can’t hear you baby voice their requests so they can get off, then fuck them. They aren’t the community of people you want to watch your content, anyway. Those are the type of people who are never satisfied, who will just demand more from you. Sooner or later they’ll be less kind and be aggressive and threatening. And you don’t deserve that, Y/N.” 

He sucked in a breath. “You just need a chance to build confidence, that’s all. Assuming you even want to continue doing these streams. I know you said you don’t feel like you have much of a choice, but maybe I could help you out. Uh, I could give you a raise or something so you could quit! And with school, too, I’m sure we could figure out something! Maybe if it’s not too late you could go back and––”

You held up your hands, signaling for Seokjin to stop talking. 

“I’ve made up my mind! And I don’t think giving me a raise or trying to help me with school would be a great way of maintaining that boundary we are supposed to have, remember? Something tells me a boss isn’t supposed to offer his employee an undeserved pay raise for her personal issues.” You huff.

You were right. Seokjin chuckled. “Okay, fair. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to throw everything away like I did.” 

You whipped your head over to him. “Listen, Seokjin. I appreciate that you care and don’t want things to happen to me. But I’m also not you. And you also didn’t throw everything away but that’s another topic completely, one I thought we discussed yesterday morning. Regardless, I’m getting a lot of mixed messages here and I need you to help me understand what exactly is happening right now. Are you my friend or my boss? Because right now it feels like you’re telling me what to do like you are in charge of me but hiding it behind the guise of friendship and that’s not how this works. So explain. Ideally before you drop me off and we don’t speak again until Monday.” 

Seokjin swallowed hard, an anxiousness beginning to swirl in your stomach. This whole conversation felt like it was going south really quick. He scrambled to steady himself and took a deep breath.

“You’re right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t styled it today, and the black strands were sticking to his forehead from the melted snow. “I’m sorry. You have every right to decide. And you’d said before that this was a temporary pause. And even if it wasn’t, that’s also your choice.”

“Again, yes, you’re right. But I also don’t see why you seem to care so much!” Your volume raised in annoyance and you crossed your arms over your chest in a puff. “You don’t get to decide I’m some soft little flower who can’t advocate for herself! Like yeah, I feel shitty about what I did but I’m just trying to figure out my boundaries, just like you said earlier! So yes, I have the right to decide if I want to go back to school or not! Thanks for pointing that out!”

If he hadn’t been getting chewed out right now by you, Seokjin would’ve thought you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen, your mouth settled into a sharp frown and your eyebrows knit together as you argued with him. 

Instead though, he felt like a jackass. He’d seriously overstepped in his attempts to protect you, and guilt washed through him as he realized he was placing himself into your shoes. Even if your situations were scarily similar, you still had the right to do what you wanted without his interference. Besides, his intention was to provide safety for you, not control. Maybe he’d underestimated you earlier and how you were utilizing your stream. Yes, you were uncomfortable, but it’s not like you were a child who was set to be taken advantage of, or that you’d make the same mistakes he would.  

“I-I care about you, Y/N. We’re friends. I know being your boss changed a lot, and while I sign your paycheck and have to give you orders, it’s not like that change in role made me care less. It’s not that easy.” 

You uncrossed your arms. “But,” you started, your tone softening, “you can’t both tell me what to do as my boss and tell me what to do as a friend. I’m not clocked in, Seokjin. And that’s why this is so fucking hard. Because my boss is the one who took me up a mountain after apologizing to me yesterday for his “gross misuse of power” when I’m the one who kissed you sitting on a fucking prep counter! And yeah, we were friends before you were my boss, and that means I learned to work with you and trust you as my coworker, and we shared interests so you can watch my streams and tell me about MapleStory. We have history and it’s not something we can deny. But you keep acting like I am not in control, like I am not an adult. 

“I would love it if we could stay on this mountain forever,” you added, taking the words Seokjin was thinking earlier and making them real, “because, maybe then we could just stay friends. I miss you as my friend! And I wouldn’t feel so…weird now trying to figure out which guy, Boss Seokjin or Friend Seokjin, is talking to me.” 

Seokjin was unsure what to say, just that he knew he’d fucked up yesterday not just with his behavior in the kitchen, but ultimately how he set boundaries with you. 

“I don’t know what to do about it, Y/N,” he said weakly, honestly. 

“Can I then offer a suggestion?” Your voice sounded frustrated, on the verge of yelling. He nodded. 

“On this mountain, right now. You are my friend. And any other time when we aren’t at work, we are friends. We are not the first two people who started a friendship and had a power dynamic at work. I don’t know what happened in your past that makes this so hard for you, and you don’t need to tell me. But whatever you said yesterday, it wasn’t true. I want you to trust me when I say you didn’t take advantage of me. Was it kind of stupid and inappropriate on both our parts? Sure. But I’m not this weak, breakable thing. You said so yourself with my boundary-setting for my stream that I just need confidence to assert myself and make sure I don’t get taken advantage of. So let me start with you. Help me start with you.” 

You leaned a little closer and Seokjin’s heart beat erratically. “I promise, Kim Seokjin, that whatever happened in the kitchen yesterday was consensual. At least on my end. And that I do hold you in regard as my boss during work hours most of the time. But I can’t fucking stand if you continue to uphold this standard when you talk to me as an authority and then immediately pull a hypocritical move and try to be my friend after. It’ll drive me crazy.”

Your voice was shaky now, like you were holding back tears. Seokjin fought the urge to pull you close to him, but god, how he wanted to. 

“What you do need,” he asked and you sighed. 

“Clear communication. On both sides. No more deciding for me. On anything. If I say no at work, it’s just as valid as saying no in private, even if it’s something you think is what’s best for me. Even if you don’t like it. Because you don’t know what really is or isn’t until I tell you.” He nodded in agreement. 

“I can do that. And I’m sorry again, for how confusing this must’ve been. I acted selfishly when I decided that my position as your boss overruled and negated any of our history. It was never going to be as clean as I wanted it to be,” he apologized. 

You managed a sad smile but nodded, a sign you accepted his apology. 

“Thank you. And also, I do want to continue doing the streams. I didn’t get to say that before. I do want to try after dark stuff. Because it feels like it could be fun, could help me stay involved but less personal if that makes sense. And…” You trailed off, humming to yourself as you tried to find the words for your final thought. 

“I really would like it if I could have your help in this. To help coach me in a way to maintain that boundary. You did have some really great points on execution. And I think maybe your experience in cam-leadership and management could help me both continue doing this but also finding what I want. And I need a friend for that. Not a boss or manager.” 

Seokjin’s eyes widened as he caught the last of what you were saying. 

“Wait,” he said, trying to put the pieces together. Were you asking what he thought you were asking? “So��you want me to help you run an adult-only, after dark gaming stream?” You laughed. 

“I need you to be my confidence coach,” you clarified. “Help me learn how to say no to my fanbase and keep myself calm throughout a stream so I don’t compromise. And like, I don’t know. We can iron out the details, the idea is so fresh to me, but I need you, my caring friend Seokjin, to make sure I don’t break the terms of service again and ban me from streaming.”

He blinked a few times, unsure how you’d arrived at the conclusion that he would be any good at this. 

But Seokjin knew he would be. He did this multiple times a week, and it’s how he knew you were heading toward trouble. What if he could help you learn how to protect yourself? Because you were right, you didn’t need anyone to save you. But you maybe needed someone to show you. And he could be that person. 

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll do it.”

As Seokjin pulls up to your apartment nearly an hour later, you feel a slight sadness that your night is over. On the way home, as the rain steadily poured and the city lights came back into a clear view, you’d felt a tug of worry in your gut that because you were back in the city, your agreement to stay friends wasn’t real, and that any moment Seokjin would be cold and formal, withdrawing his agreement to help you with streaming. 

You’d had the idea in the car in somewhat of an epiphany, sorting through the confusing dynamic you’d been shoved into. It made sense to you, now. Instead of trying to model yourself after the master, why not learn from the man himself? 

Despite your initial anxiety that he would back out, Seokjin if anything is all the more reassuring, gently nudging you with your peacoat in his hands to signal it is time to trade. You nod sleepily, shrugging it off your shoulders and trying to ignore the disappointment you have in no longer being enveloped in his warm scent. 

As you tuck your arms back through your sleeves, Seokjin gets out of his side of the car, the rain still beating harshly, but he appears even more determined to open your door for you, opening an umbrella to keep you and your coat from getting pounded on. 

You try to insist on sharing the umbrella, but Seokjin shakes his head, guiding you forward toward your apartment complex’s front door. 

“Thank you,” you say as you step under the lip of the roof with him, smiling up at Seokjin, who is already soaked. His black hair is piecey and dripping down his face, plastering a few disheveled pieces across his forehead. “God, you really should’ve used the umbrella too! You’re drenched!”

Seokjin laughs a hearty laugh, the squeaky, windshield wiper one that makes your chest burn. “Please, that coat you’re wearing is pathetic. I had said dress for the warmth and you picked one of the worst things you could find. Even a standard issue blazer has more weather resistance than that thing!” 

“Excuse you, but this coat most of the time is fine. And also, I thought you were just saying it as a formality! If I’d known we were heading into a literal mountain I would have changed my clothes!” You bicker back, your laughter filling the space between you two. 

“Yeah, well, now you know for next time,” he says, eyes flickering with something you almost categorize as lust. 

You beam. This time the idea of next time feels possible. If Seokjin and you can work on these weird work boundaries, there might be a hope something comes from this after all. Unless he’s gay, which you still can’t quite figure out, but you try not to think about that as he shakes his head like a big dog. 

“Okay, Sparky,” you joke and glance down at your phone. It’s very late now, and your body is quickly succumbing to the exhaustion of the day. “I’ll see you Monday?”

Seokjin’s shoulders sag, and he sighs, stepping back into the rain. “Yeah, I should probably let you go now. I’ll see you on Monday. And Y/N?”

His lips turn into a smug smirk as the rain soaks through his clothes. “Don’t forget that you promised me a crate of julienned carrots”.

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

[promiscuouspomegranate]

If you're not busy can I request a yandere shane from stardew I really don't see that much of him😸

Midnight Martini

“A little oneshot with some rambles toward the end.”

Oneshot TWs: Drinking, Existential Thoughts, Shane is Depressed, You got Drugged lol, implied abduction.

Ramble TWs: Alcoholism, Depressive Thoughts, and Yandere Behaviors

(You’re the second person to request something.. so I simply have to entertain the anon. I hope you like it.. I was sleepy writing this 😪)

º

“Do you ever drink, Y / N or do you constantly keep up the happy farmer charade? I’m genuinely intrigued by your little persona,” Shane smirked and elbowed me, “What happens at this lake stays between us.”

I nervously gripped the martini I ordered earlier and quickly chugged it. It was dry and bitter and overpowered my mouth with gin. I covered it and felt a burn in my throat. Shane, instead of getting a water bottle for me, laughed as if comedy peaked at this very moment.

“You seriously have never drunk before? Fuck, I didn’t know I’d encounter someone like this ever,” He took a swig of his bottled beer and wiped his mouth, “It’s kinda sweet.”

“Shut up,” I nudged him and groaned, “I was always the damn designated driver at work events and high school parties fucking sucked.”

“Oh, you can curse too? It seems my world is coming to an end,” He chuckled and set his bottle down, “I get it, though. I didn’t start until.. well, until some time ago.”

“I don’t get how you enjoy this shit,” I glanced over and realized what I said, “No offense, of course!”

There was a moment of silence between us, and the moonlight rippled through the iridescent lake water. I moved in a little closer and grabbed an unopened bottle of cold beer. I used the dock to pop the cap off and took a sip.

“I don’t even like to drink, honestly,” He sighed, “I only like the feeling of being drunk. It’s the only way I feel happy, y’know? So much shit happened, and life continued. I wasn’t fucking ready to man up, so I drove to the closest gas station in ZuZu city and came him with a six-pack. I woke up the next morning with a throbbing pain in my head and vomit in a bucket, but not a single memory about the shit that happened to me. It’s.. it’s become a ruthless cycle.”

I took another sip and Shane grabbed his bottle. He gazed at my face and rubbed his stubble.

“Do you ever think this is it? All we have in life is a cycle of horrible feelings and emotions until we die? Yoba, I hope it’s not,” His voice sounded raw with emotion as he spoke, “I just wanna get better.”

“For what it’s worth,” I paused and thought about what to say. I set my bottle down and grabbed Shane’s hand, “You’re not alone, Shane. I don’t know what happened, and I would never expect you to tell me. I know what despair feels like, and you can’t help but think it all fucking sucks. That’s because it does. Everything is horrible, but.. but we have these ever so brief moments that make life worth living.”

He was silent and I decided to continue.

“When I first came here, I was depressed. I lost the only family member that genuinely cared about me and had no fucking money, friends, or food,” I laughed and looked at him, “Shane, I remember approaching you, and you told me to fuck off. I went home and started sobbing because I felt like shit. I could’ve wallowed in my misery, but then.. I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Reality seemed to blur with desire and I selfishly leaned in closer. I brushed my hand across his face and his eyes glowed in the darkness of the valley. He felt warm and my mind felt fuzzy.

“I want to be here with you,” I murmured.

“Fuck you,” He whispered back, “Fuck you for being so.. you. Damn it, you’re not supposed to be a flirty drunk. I’m supposed to be making a move on you.”

Our noses touched and I felt my heart racing with intoxication and want. I wanted this kiss to happen and I wanted it to be with Shane. I quickly pressed my lips against his and pulled his head closer to mine. He reciprocated my feelings and wrapped his arms around my body. After a moment, he pulled away.

“That was a long time coming,” I slurred my words and grabbed his face, “I want more Shane. ‘S not fair to kiss me then pull away so quickly.”

“Oh, I know sweetheart,” He calmly replied and kissed my forehead. He stood up and put our bottles back in the cooler, “I’m just concerned about how you feel right now.”

“I’m fine,” I stupidly smiled and bounced up. My head was pounding, and the ground felt like it was swirling, “Just.. just sleepy.”

“That’s good to hear; you’ll be out any second now. It’s past your bedtime, isn’t it,” He pulled me into his arms and muttered, “Just go to sleep. It’ll all be better in the morning. We’ll be together.”

.

That whole scene would take A LOT of gifts and bonding to happen. I’m sensing a major inferiority complex and, “Oh, if I talk to them, they’re just going to think I’m some stupid drunk who can’t take care of himself.”

I think something terrible happened in his life that spiraled into his alcoholic depression. His parents refused to accept him after discovering that he had nowhere else to go but Marnie’s ranch. He’s stuck in the past and refuses to move on from what happened. He feels horrible and desperately needs to feel something other than self-hate and sorrow.

When you first approach him, he’s too absorbed by his grief to realize that YOU WANT TO BE THERE FOR HIM (like.. you don’t bite.) He tries to close off any form of interaction and conversation. Why would he deserve to talk to someone when he’s terrible? He’s too afraid of his flaws to let anyone close.

Yet, you insist on hanging around like some incurable parasite. Shane feels startled when he finally realizes you want to be with him. Here’s this kind farmer who thinks that HE is worth something. He hasn’t felt proper affection in so long that his feelings spiral immediately. He finally has someone that makes him feel like he has self-worth and that he’s important.

He starts drinking less and talking to you more. As he sobers up more, his feelings are less intense but still linger. He wants you to himself and hates the thought of you falling for another bachelor. So, what better way than to take you late at night? Not like he could just ask you out himself.

Give this man counseling and a hug ⁉️⁉️⁉️

[dropthedemiurge]

My first impression for GMMTV 2024 projects:

Ossan's Love Thailand: Let's just say, first one is instant skip for me, though I am still excited to watch Earth and Mix in something I'll enjoy. I probably should go and watch Cupid's Last Wish instead xD Japanese comedy that is transferred in a Thailand comedy make me fear for my life, to be honest (my tolerance for physical comedy is unfortunately very low). But good luck to EarthMix though, they'll get to play some funky roles, hope they'll have fun!

Leap Day: Woah! It looks very intense and very interesting already. Pond and Dew (who I dearly love since High School series) in a very dark and mystical thriller(?). It's not BL but I love unique plots with darker vibes. Also Gun playing autistic guy (who also gives off creepy vibes because the entire trailer is creepy)? Sign me up twice! I'm going to be checking it out for sure.

The Heart Killers: First and Khaotung wanted to play a cute sweet romcom after all the depressing and dark and difficult characters and tears, right? Well, they also wanted to play mafia or gang roles so I guess that gave Jojo the right to make a ASSASSINS ROM-COM, why not!xD This man is the only one I go for when I want something very refreshing, unusual, gritty, that has flawed and underground characters, weapons and high stakes. It'll probably fumble the ending but I'm definitely going to be here for my Assassin x Tattoo Artist Firstkhao. Also it'll be my introduction to JoongDunk. Second to the top of series I'm excited about!

Friendshit Forever: I actually had to double take because GMM surely loves puns in their titles, right? xD I thought this would be GL but it seems like a very intense friendship-betrayal story, seems like girl actors are able to pull it off and New is going to get caught up between them, sounds interesting but again, not my type of story. Still, points for the shit in the title lol

Perfect10Liners: I literally have 3 couples that I am familiar with because I saw them in other shows, and they all play Thai engineers, and I still have no desire to watch this show? Somehow?! I don't know why but I feel like the writing is not solid at all. Or the premise. I'm not sure what's this show is even about, beside a silly university romcom. I am already craving something more interesting, I'm sorry guys.

Us: I ONLY HAD EMI AND BONNIE FOR ONE MINUTE AND I DON'T WANT TO LET THEM GO! I mean, new discoveries?! This trailer is filmed beautifully, first of all. The acting is already great (also hello, Sing, my beloved!) and the girls have chemistry (I might have a little crush on Emi already). Anyway. I am still waiting for GL that'll be my cup of tea, I hope this will be one.

Hide & Sis: I really enjoy the vibes, the three sisters look badass (and I adore Piploy and Lookjun and Jan), it's very unusual to see Chimon in this role, Gawin continues his police officer streak, but THAT NAME! Who decided on a name for this series and why?xD Probably not going to watch but I give it a stamp of approval.

ThamePo (Heart that skips a beat): Oh! I enjoy idol stories, though I haven't seen many, but I'm always intrigued how shows like this could display the backstage and the complications that come with different positions and spotlight. And thank god GMMTV used their actual boygroup to play idols! And didn't just try to teach actors to dance. I don't know main two actors but they seem to have good chemistry as well?! I'm intrigued.

Break Up Service: I'm all for Off in a very sketchy role (Midnight Motel type of sketchy, only with even higher stakes?xD) but the overall genre is probably not my thing.

Revamp The Undead: I'm sorry but all I know about BounPrem is that these are guys from another agency who desperately wanted to have vampire BL for years or something xD Glad to see the wish being fulfilled! I love how the teaser was filmed, and the plot has a big potential. Don't know the cast but might tune it to check out! Also my guy Kay is here being bad!! (I am collecting my HS gang over all lakorns)

Sweet Tooth Good Dentist: Sorry but I'm going to be mourning Mark Pakin's talent being wasted on series like that x) I don't know the other guy Ohm, sorry, but such romantic comedy where Mark's character is a weirdo and simply falls in love with the client (how was he not fired on the spot) doesn't really intrigue me... But at least it's a step up from his (amazing) side roles.

The Dark Dice: Ooh! I love psychological thrillers and this honestly reminded me of Cube, I just didn't expect Gemini to be the main lead. As someone who watched Gifted, High School and similar shows, this is right up my alley. Very curious to check out and I hope they'll do something deep with it beside a simple mystery.

The Ex Morning: I might be biased but I just knew they would be the last one, what everyone's been waiting for. It's hilarious to think that the plot is based on Krist and Singto's actual lives but I trust P'Aof to write compelling characters and relationships. Also I probably will sigh with relief already because he's one of the very few writers that actually write a complete story with a nice and believable (and not hurried) ending. And I really want KS to come back with a bang, just like TayNew did with Cherry Magic. GMM going exes back to lovers will be very interesting to watch, and Krist Singto grew as actors so much. I'm very excited!

Overall, I'm happy to see GMMTV choosing to try a lot more mystical or dark stories than before, way less school students and also most of these BL stories are about adults! Woah! Finally! The audience is mostly grown up as well, thankfully they realized it. And their announced project about accepting stories and plot from the fans, as well as Interactive Game project by GMM, I wonder how that'll look like.

It's funny how last year I was thinking about making my webcomics and visual novel games with GMM actors and I didn't push through because I had health problems and not enough time, and it's like in 2024 GMM tells me THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT WE WANT. Maybe I should actually make some dating otome novel game or some interesting AU webcomic based on GMM BL pairings, and then show it to all fans and then GMM would notice it xD Who knows? Go kick me so I'd work on one of those projects in my mind.

Anyway, in Part 1 I barely liked any trailers or stories, and I like almost everything in Part 2. I am very very excited.

[bookshelfdreams]

Jokes aside, I find myself more and more intrigued by what they're doing with Izzy this season.

The new eps have confirmed to me that Izzy is literally not that deep, and that's on purpose. Compared to the others, he is distinctly undercomplex, one-dimensional even; he doesn't have little fun or surprising things about him, he seems complex on the surface, but the more we get to know him, the more it's confirmed that he's just an asshole and nothing much more to it.

This is because he's there as a comment on toxic white masculinity. He's not the only character like this; but while others (Father Bonnet, Father Teach, the Badmintons) are there to condemn the abusiveness and violence of it, Izzy is there to ridicule it.

Which is an equally powerful thing to do.

That's why he's always the butt of the joke, why we are never invited to empathize with him. ofmd draws the line between drama and comedy at emotional pain. Physical pain is played for laughs, and Izzy's pain is only ever physical. The narrative doesn't take him serious at all, openly laughs at him and invites us to laugh at him, too. Is even cruel to him, at times, because he's not really supposed to be a person. He's a stereotype.

And I think we can see in the discourse how unusual and counterintuitive this is. We are not used to seeing a character that ticks all the boxes Izzy does in that role: comic relief and mascot. Not used to guys like Izzy being the ones who are dehumanized.

This is why it feels to me like he's getting rehabilitated instead of redeemed; he just doesn't have the depth for his actions to have enough moral weight to warrant redemption. You wouldn't expect a bitey terrier to apologize for taking a chunk out of your face, would you? That's where Izzy is at. The way he's treated right now to me feels benevolent, but condescending; he's gently fed treats to teach him that people can be friends, but behavioral euthanasia isn't off the table yet (and we won't be heartbrokem should it come to that).

They aren't trying to redeem him, they're trying to make him a real boy.

And yeah, that can be criticized, but embedded in the broader context of what ofmd has to say about authenticity and oppressive power structures, I find this approach fascinating. How do you rebuild a personality after a lifetime of compliance? And is it even possible to gain enough self awareness to realize that's what you need to do?

If what you want from an Izzy arc is a heartfelt apology, for him to see the error of his ways and make amends for his wrongdoing, I don't think we're going to get that. I think the narrative has very limited time and more important things to spend it on, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing. So far, they mostly seem to enjoy putting Izzy in a jar and shaking it, and I for one am here for it.

[drawbauchery]

ok i’ve been getting the thinky thoughts about starting a blog in a similar format to the way you’re doing the bus au…. advice?

i'd say don't start off your story with anything huge or lore-heavy. build a little intrigue by introducing ideas without going into detail right away, and take even the most inconspicuous asks ("how's this character feeling/etc") and try to twist them into an answer the asker wouldn't expect. a way to spark curiosity from an audience is show, don't tell. so instead of having a character answer directly with, "it's been hard because of this and that, ask me about it" show them dealing with whatever it is they're up to. the goal is to slowly craft a story with your followers, to get people wanting more. if you can introduce a tiny bit of intrigue, comedy, or emotion with every answer, the asks will come in naturally. you know where you want the story to go, but it's ok to let the asks take it off course a bit because you're all kinda working together. i will say though, it'll take time to get off the ground and sometimes you won't get the response you hoped for. i get discouraged all the time by lack of reblogs and stuff, but i also keep going because it's a story i wanna tell. so most of all, just keep at it.

[yuurei20]

Lilia Info Compilation part 7: Lilia and Sebek

We learn that Sebek's grandfather, a former royal guard who served the king of Briar Valley, entrusted Lilia with Sebek’s training.

Lilia may have been Sebek’s grandfather’s captain in the royal guard.

Silver and Sebek have known each other for about ten years, from when they were approximately 7 and 6 years old. While Sebek has a family of his own Lilia seems to be keeping his position as Sebek’s guardian even at the school, scolding Sebek for his lack of alertness and cautioning him to follow Malleus’ instructions instead of arguing.

While Sebek admits that Lilia is a strong magic user, he was uncomfortable with Malleus having no guard but Lilia during Halloween.

When Lilia asks, “Am I not a good enough teammate for you, Sebek?” for Beanfest, Sebek says, “I would never dream of implying that…I am greatly honored to have the privilege of following a warrior as renowned as yourself into battle, of course. But even then…Malleus, well…”

Despite this personal preference of Malleus over Lilia, Sebek seems to obey Lilia without questions, despite Lilia’s pranks.

In the Phantom Bride event we learn that Lilia has taught Sebek that “a fountain pen and stationery are the true weapons in matters of love”, he is to “pen my feelings, slip a photo of my smiling visage into every third missive, and repeat this until the twenty-fifth full moon."

"Once we have exchanged a sufficient amount of correspondence…I shall then sit next to them on a bench in Briar Valley Central Park, with a person’s worth of space between us!” When Epel says that Lilia has been teasing him, Sebek shouts at him for questioning Lilia’s integrity.

We learn that Lilia has also told him to combine “a variety of fermented bean that Lila brought from the Far East as well as yogurt” with steak and eat it all at once to increase his body’s ability to absorb the protein and he becomes irate with the others for daring to “question the wisdom of our vice housewarden” and “doubt Lilia’s wisdom”.

At the end of the vignette Lilia appears to confess that he only said “the first thing that came into my head” and laugh at Sebek for being “an endless font of comedy” and “adorably trusting”, leading Sebek to say “you deceived me again?!” And “how many times now have I met this fate?”, insinuating that Lilia’s pranks are fairly common.

Lilia’s lab wear vignette even begins with “I had just a wee bit too much fun messing with Silver and Sebek”, but we do not find out what it was he had been doing.

(Lilia’s pranks do not seem to be limited to Silver and Sebek: during the Phantom Bride event he “teases” Eliza’s ghost guards “a little”, and seems delighted by the drama and intrigue of “stealing a bride”.)

But Sebek still clearly respects Lilia as his guardian, and we see him chastise Silver for interrupting him, other students for taking “an aggressive tone” and Idia for refusing to kiss Eliza in the Phantom Bride event (doing so would have killed Idia, so he had been reluctant.)

For his part Lilia seems to spoil Sebek to some degree as well, arranging for a court painter from Briar Valley to paint a portrait of Malleus to give to Sebek, at Sebek’s request.

[heyitsrink]

WIP game

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how nondescriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet and tell us about it!

I was tagged by the queen of WIPs herself - @tragediegh. Thanks for the tag, friend! Always fun to see what's lurking in the WIP folder/notebook.

I want to write more fic but since I mostly make comics, most of my WIPs are actually comic scripts so I figured I could include those as well.

Fic | "The Overstory Chronicles" - longfic exploring the early days of Erek and Detozi meeting in Trehaug.

Fic | "A Foolish Arrangement" - a TM-era Flowers™ fix-it fic.

Fic | Untitled modern AU in which Fitz pursues comedy instead of going to therapy - this concept is so stupid and makes me laugh so hard.

Comic | Farseer-era Pacey comic where Lacey slips and says "My Love" instead of "My Lady." However will Patience react????

Comic | AU where Fitz, Beloved, Molly and Bee are a FAMILY (..:

Comic | Mirroring-POV of Fitz and Beloved back when they were little kids and being so so loved (.....:

Comic | Nettle + Riddle being all cute and in love.

Comic | Jek arm wrestling her way through the Paragon and leaving queer awakenings in her wake.

I'm running on too-little sleep to think of folks to tag so consider this an open invitation for anyone who'd like to participate. I'd love to see what you're working on!!

[letyukisayfuck]

hey!! i really like your blog and all of your thoughts about haruhi the franchise are so interesting but what I'm curious about is how do you feel about koizumi in general? you speak about him very rarely but he's my fav character and you're my fav tumblr account so far so i wanna hear it if you have something to say about him ahah

aaaaaa thank you! i'm glad people like my particular brand of nonsense and screaming loudly into what i initially thought was a void. gotta say, being called someone's favorite tumblr is an honor i never thought i would receive from anyone

so yeah, i mostly talk about koizumi on here to give him shit, but honestly that's partially because i find it funny that after mikuru gets promoted from being nothing more than the universe's punching bag he basically takes her place in terms of 'character that suffers for comedy' (see: random numbers and seven wonders in particular), and partially because the text gives us very little of him seemingly being genuine without some level of bullshit attached to it.

like i said yesterday, i don't dislike any of the brigade; koizumi would probably be classed as my least favorite, but it's not so much because i dislike him and more because he never gets the narrative focus that would bring him up to the same level as mikuru

we never really get something that eqates to love at first sight or the melancholy of mikuru asahina for koizumi, and certainly nothing on the level of disappearance or intrigues (which i would argue are the yuki and mikuru spotlight novels, respectively)

(melancholy and surprise i would class as haruhi spotlights, one before and one after her character development; and sigh i would class as 'establishing material that is necessary but not exactly fun to sift through for the most part')

i like to think if we ever get another long-form book it'll be koizumi-centric, mostly because i'd like to see him actually get to be a major player! it's getting a little sad to watch kyon hear him go "maybe i wanted to time travel" and just go "i mean what could koizumi possibly want from me"

but really, the only koizumi spotlight we have is the tempo loss bishop exchange--which, notably, while i take it as canon (as it was authorized) was not by tanigawa; if i remember right, it was instead written by sou sagara

i read a fan translation, as there's never been an official release and my relationship with the official haruhi translations is reasonably antagonistic on a good day, and i think it's worth noting that for the first page and a half i didn't think there would be a plot. i thought it was just koizumi's philosophical bullshit, novelized.

that said, it was really fun to read something from his perspective (kind of like how editor in chief gives us insight into yuki and mikuru via their writing styles; but more direct)

so, before i get into my own thoughts (which i believe i've touched on before), it's worth noting that while the entire cast of haruhi can be easily read a variety of ways, koizumi is arguably the easiest to do this with because we get so little to work with in terms of "things we know to be true"

things we know for sure are true about koizumi: north high student (presumably a teenager), esper, works for a mysterious organization, considered attractive/popular (unless i'm misremembering something), has explicitly stated that he's always putting on an act but has never clarified how much and in exactly what way, earnestly offers advice but often contradicts himself, claims to be able to read haruhi's mood/emotions/something along those lines, and (in the later books) has made a hobby out of trying to convince kyon to deal with his very obvious romantic feelings for haruhi

my own reading of koizumi is biased by my readings of other characters and their relationships/dynamics; and it's also specifically the one i think is the funniest option: koizumi has a thing for both kyon and haruhi, is aware that neither of them views him the same way (with haruhi viewing him solely as a subordinate and only really paying attention when he's saying things she wants to hear, and kyon seemingly regarding him as a friend as well as a source of useful information, but hardly even willing to acknowledge that fact most of the time)

and, since he has accepted that neither of them like him that way but they do very obviously like each other, he's decided that they should get over themselves and get together. unfortunately, kyon's strategy when he hears things he doesn't want to is pretend no one's said anything at all, and so koizumi's words go ignored