#TRULY so many talented people in this bunch!!! really couldn’t handle it

[elfkissing]

My piece for the FREE TO DOWNLOAD @bg3zine!! What an absolutely incredible project, can’t overstate how talented this group of contributors is! If you’d like to grab it for yourself the link is here!

[kookiesjoonies]

rule breaker — jhs | part ten.

rule breaker | part ten: ramen & froyo.

a/n: this chapter is quite a few days late, but i literally had the worst case of writer’s block of my LIFE. i started this chapter, n then completely scrapped it. and i’m glad i did, bc the first draft was SHIT. LMAO. anyway, come talk to me abt hoseok n yn please. i want to hear your thoughts. especiallyyyy after this chapter! thank u all for reading! xo

main pairing: choreographer!hoseok x idol!reader

side ships: vmin, namkook

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, angst, wet dream (dunno if that qualifies as a warning, but uhhh just in case lmaodskjd), masturbation, squirting

— SERIES SUMMARY

your career as an idol comes first, end of discussion. and to make sure that you stay on track, you implement two foolproof rules to abide by:

rule #1: no distractions. rule #2: no mixing business with pleasure.

and those rules seem simple enough to follow. that is, until you develop a crush on your new choreographer.

Dance practice was over and you felt like you’d just run a marathon. No, wait, scratch that. You felt like you’d run five marathons. Dancing with Hoseok was no joke. He always pushed you to work harder, to do better. And any time you were convinced you couldn’t perfect a move, he’d encourage you and offer you a thousand reasons as to why you could.

Both of you were drenched in sweat. Your grey crop top soaked and dark in certain areas, perhaps revealing a bit too much of what was underneath. Hoseok’s hair was sticky and wet against his forehead, and he’d pushed it back since practice ended.

You’d have been stupid to ignore just how attractive such a simple gesture made him look. Still, you tried your hardest to push such thoughts out of your mind. You shouldn’t be thinking of him in such a way. But you blamed it on the sensual dance routine that you’d just completed with him.

Jimin was just supposed to be late to practice, but he ended up having to skip it all together. Which meant that every single sexy move you were supposed to do with your best friend, you’d done with Hoseok instead.

At first, it was awkward. You didn’t know where to put your hands, and he was hesitant to put his on your body as well. Eventually though, the two of you relaxed into one another. The feeling of his fingertips on the bare skin of your hips was exhilarating, as well as the feeling of his length being pressed against your ass while you pushed back against him.

The way that he watched you in the mirror, the way way his pupils had clearly dilated, sent immediate relief washing over you. You weren’t the only one affected by the routine the two of you were performing. But at the end of the day, it was just that. A performance.

And that’s what you’d keep telling yourself, even if deep down, you didn’t believe it even for a second.  

“Well, I don’t know about you,” Hoseok began, lifting the bottom of his muscle tank top up to his face to wipe the beads of sweat trickling down, “but I worked up quite the appetite.”

Your eyes shot down to admire his perfectly sculpted abs that were practically begging for your touch, your tongue poking out to wet your lips at the delicious sight.

“Y/n?” Hoseok was speaking again, this time albeit a little louder, which snapped you out of your trance.

Embarrassed, your neck straightened up so that you could now look at the man towering above you face to face. And you willed your cheeks not to turn red, hoping and praying that he didn’t catch you checking him out.

“Huh?” That was all you could muster up, unsure of what he’d even said to begin with.

To your surprise, he offered you a chuckle in response.

“I said I was hungry. You want to go grab lunch?”

The two of you’d never hung out outside of the studio before, so you were a little taken aback by his suggestion.

He could sense your hesitation, and he stuttered as he tried to play it off nonchalantly.

“Or, uhm— we don’t—, we don’t have to. I just figured—“

You cut him off, a small smile creeping it’s way onto your face. He really was adorable when he rambled.

“Hobi, we can get lunch. I just wish I didn’t have to go out in public looking so gross.” You were half joking, half serious.

Your hair felt greasy, you weren’t wearing any makeup, and your athletic clothes were sweaty and sticky. So, you were definitely not fit to be seen in public at the moment.

“You don’t look gross.” Hoseok was quick to reassure you, matching your smile with a wide one of his own.

“No?” You asked, wanting him to compliment you one more time. Even though, you weren’t sure why you wanted him to do so so badly.

“Nope!” he shook his head, “you look like you’ve been working hard.”

You internally groaned. Not exactly the kind of compliment you were hoping for, but it would do, you supposed.

“In that case, did you have a place in mind for lunch? Or..?”

“There’s this place down the street that has the best cooked ramen!” you found it adorable, the way he was so enthusiastic even while talking about food, “Is that okay? I mean— do, uhm— do you like ramen?”

A tiny giggle left your mouth before you could stop it, and you offered him a quick nod of your head.

“I love ramen.”

“Great!” he grinned, “let’s go then!”

Turns out, Hoseok was right. This place did have the best ramen. You were sure you could slurp up at least ten bowls of it.

Your choreographer was sitting across from you at the small round table. The place was quaint, small, and yet surprisingly busy. Various K-Pop songs boomed through the speakers overhead, and the hustle and bustle of the restaurant workers never seemed to cease. The sound of the other diners mumbling bounced off of the walls, and the aroma of the foods being cooked in the kitchen were to die for.

“So,” Hoseok spoke up after practically inhaling a few bites of his ramen, “do you like the place?”

You didn’t hesitate in answering, “Yes! I can’t believe it’s been so close to the studio for so long and I never knew about it.”

“You’re welcome.” He winked at you, a playful gesture that for some reason, had your heart doing flips in your chest.

You gathered a small bunch of noodles with your chopsticks, bringing them up to shove the food into your mouth.

“Aren’t you nervous people will recognize you?” Hoseok questioned, taking a sip of the soda that was sitting beside of his bowl.

You shrugged, chewing and swallowing the bite you’d just taken before answering him.

“It’s just part of the gig, you know?”

“No,” he admitted, “I don’t know. How do you do it? How do you deal with people constantly invading your privacy?”

“It’s not easy,” you answered honestly, “but I’ve been doing it for almost six years now, so. I’d like to think I’ve gotten used to it.”

“You handle it well. The way you carry yourself, even with all of the pressure you’re under, it’s admirable. And the fact that you’re so— so kind, so down to earth, even with the millions of fans you have.. it’s amazing, really.”

His series of seemingly never ending compliments were successful in creating flutters in your stomach. You were sure your cheeks and the tips of your ears were tinted pink, and your spine tingled as you happily took in every single one of his words.

“Hobi,” you couldn’t hide the grin that was now plastered across your face, “you’re too sweet.”

This time, it was Hoseok’s turn to blush. You’d said something so simple, yet it had the apples of his cheeks tinged red. He’d hoped you hadn’t noticed. But you did, which only made you want to continue your compliments further. If it meant seeing him like that, all flustered and shy, you’d compliment him twenty four hours, seven days a week.

Even if, technically, you shouldn’t be trying to make him blush. But at that exact moment, you couldn’t be bothered to give a single fuck.

“I mean it,” you continued, swirling the few remaining noodles around in the bowl below you, “you’re so kind to me, always. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

He glanced away from you then, turning his attention to watch the waiters walk in and out of the kitchen. You didn’t miss the dark shade of red that had taken over his entire face. And yeah, you found it undeniably adorable.

Before you could say anything else to him, a familiar sounding song blared from the sound system above you. You couldn’t help but to laugh, shaking your head as you listened to the low beat of take me.

Hoseok faced you again, a smirk present as his ears perked up to listen.

“Hey, that sounds kind of familiar.”

“Never heard this song before in my life.”

You kept a straight face, for the most part. But Hoseok didn’t miss the glimmer of playfulness in your eyes.

“Ahh,” he decided to play along, finishing up the last few bites of his meal, “a shame you haven’t heard it. The artist who sings it, she’s truly something special. Insanely talented, an incredible dancer.”

“Maybe she’s just an ‘incredible dancer’ because she has such a good teacher.”

“Nope!” he was quick to shut you down, “she’s talented because she’s hardworking and she never settles for anything but the best.”

If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you. And maybe he was. Or, maybe you just wanted him to be? But then, why did you want him to be? Your brain was scrambled, too many thoughts running a million miles a minute.

The sound of footsteps approaching your table pulled you out of your own head, and standing before you was a tall, lean yet muscular man with dark hair. He had a freckle just under his bottom lip, which you were quick to note was quite cute. You assumed he was a fan, but as soon as he addressed the man sitting in front of you as Hobi, you quickly realized he was here for him and not you.

“Here’s that movie you wanted to borrow.” The younger boy handed a disk over to his friend, and you watched the exchange curiously.

“Ahhh! Thank you, Jungkookie! I’ve been wanting to see this for ages!” Hoseok quickly stuffed the film into his bag at his feet.

“Hmm,” you observed, tapping your manicured nails on the top of the table, “Jungkook, I presume?”

He seemed shock at the mention of his name. Or rather, at the sound of familiarity laced in your tone.

“Uhm, yeah..?” he cocked an eyebrow, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Your attention turned to Hoseok, and you pointed a finger at Jungkook.

“Is he the one who thinks I’m a diva?”

Hoseok had a mouthful of soda, and damn near did a spit take at your obvious call out.

“You told her?!” Jungkook slapped his hyung’s shoulder, and you watched as Hoseok soothed the abused spot with his hand.

“It just slipped!” The older male was quick to defend himself, and you couldn’t help but to laugh at the whole ordeal.

“Guys,” you said, “it’s fine! Jungkook, I’m sorry that you think I’m a diva. I’d like to think I’m not, but your own opinions can’t be helped.”

“She is not a diva, I promise. She’s anything but.”

You couldn’t help but to smile wide at the sound of Hoseok defending your name.

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Ahhh, I shouldn’t be so quick to judge, or to assume. I don’t even know you. I apologize.”

He bowed in front of you, and you waved him off.

“I promise, it’s fine,” you assured him, “I accept your apology. Any friend of Hoseok’s is a friend of mine.”

He sighed, relieved.

“In that case, could you get Jimin’s autograph for me? I’m like, his biggest fan.”

Hoseok groaned before bringing the palm of his hand up and dragging it down his face. You just laughed, nodding your head once in response.

“I’ll see what I can do. You should come by the studio with Hobi sometime, you’ll probably run into Jimin there.”

“Really?!” He lit up like a kid in a candy store, and it seemed as though his older friend had had enough.

“Okay!” Hoseok said, shooing Jungkook away from the table, “You’ve fulfilled your purpose of dropping off the movie. Thank you!”

“Awww, but hyung!” Jungkook pouted, “I was hoping I could join the two of you, and you know, tell her a secret of yours since you told her one of mine.”

You perked up in your seat, gaze shifting to Hoseok as you eyed him curiously.

“What secret?” You asked, hearing Jungkook snicker to your side.

“Ignore him.” Hoseok groaned.

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave,” Jungkook held his hands up in front of him in defeat, “but you should tell her, is all I’m saying.”

“Tell me what?” You asked, intrigued and confused all at the same time.

Hoseok shook his head.

“Nothing, he’s just an idiot,” he insisted, laughing the entire situation off, “we should uhm— grab froyo after this, if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“Ugh, the key to my heart.”

He smiled at your immediate acceptance, flagging your waiter down and digging in his pocket for his wallet.

You did the same, unzipping your purse to retrieve your credit card.

“No, no, Y/n. I got it! My treat.”

“Hoseok, I can’t let you—“

Before you could argue further, the waiter was walking away with Hoseok’s money. He was unbelievable.

He paid for froyo, too. Despite your arguing.

The two of you were walking along the river, enjoying your cups of frozen treats. It was spring, nearly summer, so the weather was just right. The sun was shining beautifully on the water beside you, not a cloud to be found in the sky. It truly was a beautiful day.

“It doesn’t shock me that your favorite color is yellow.” You started, dipping your spoon into your birthday cake flavored yogurt.

“Why not?” Hoseok retorted, bringing a spoonful of his own dessert up and to his lips.

“Because it’s a bright, happy color. And you are a bright, happy person.”

He flashed you that big, toothy grin that you’d grown to adore so much.

“Alright then, what’s your favorite color?”

“Red.” You answered without hesitation.

He shook his head, quiet laughter exuding from his throat.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he insisted, “red just matches your personality perfectly.”

You cocked a brow, licking a bite of froyo from the spoon.

“How do you figure?”

“You’re full of fire, full of passion. A force to be reckoned with, you go head first into everything that you do and you don’t stop until you’ve achieved your goal.”

“You got all of that from the color red?”

“Mhm.” He just nodded at you, his smile never once faltering. Your damn heart was doing the flipping thing again and you feared it would leap right out of your chest if he looked at you like that for a second longer.

“Okay,” you said, dipping your spoon into the bowl, “you have to try this. It’s so good.”

You lifted the plastic utensil up to his mouth, and he only hesitated for a moment for allowing the sensation of birthday cake flavor to flood his taste buds. His eyes lit up, and his tone was enthusiastic.

“Mmm! That is good! I’m not usually a giant fan of cake flavored things, but I’d eat that.”

You fake gasped, bringing your free hand over your chest.

“How dare you! Birthday cake is the best flavor!”

“Pffft, no way!” he was quick to shut you down, gulping down another bite of his own treat, “brownie batter is. Here, you try.”

He was bringing his spoon up to your lips in an instant, and you poked your tongue out to give it a test lick. Usually, chocolate flavored ice cream wasn’t your favorite. But this was incredible.

“Aww, man! I like yours better!” You pouted, and Hoseok’s heart sank at the sight.

He knew you were being playful, but still, he couldn’t help himself.

“Here,” he held out his bowl to you, “we can trade.”

You shook your head, refusing the gesture, “I can’t take your food!”

“Yes you can! Please, for me. I want you to enjoy this.” His voice was kind, sincere. How could you say no to that?

“Only if you’re sure.” You said, hesitantly switching your bowl out for his.

“I’m sure.” He smiled at you again, and you felt like you’d been grounded down to the earth once and for all.

You didn’t make it home until the sun was about to set. Having too much fun with Hobi, you decided you could afford to stay out for a bit. He really was wonderful company, he seemed to make even the simplest of things fun. You’d hoped you’d get to hang out with him like that again in the future, the near future, to be exact. It was different than when the two of you were in the studio.

There, you were working. But today, you were out having lunch and enjoying spending casual time together. It felt like it went on forever, yet not nearly as long as you hoped it would last all at the same time.

However, you were happy to finally be in the comfort of your own home. Practice had kicked your ass today, and you were exhausted, grimy, and in desperate need of a shower and a nap.

Taehyung wasn’t home either, so you were home alone and excited by that fact. Very rarely did you ever have time to yourself and yourself alone. Except, you weren’t alone. And you didn’t know that until you walked into your master bedroom and saw Jimin sprawled out on your bed.

He nearly gave you a damn heart attack, had you shrieking like a banshee and clutching your chest.

“Jimin! What the fuck?!”

“It’s your fault for giving me a key.” He was flipping through a magazine, unfazed as ever.

“You could’ve texted me and told me you were coming over!” You scolded, and he just grinned.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I hate you sometimes.”

“Liar.”

You walked further into your room as you rolled your eyes, picking up a pillow and tossing it forcefully at his head.

“Hey!” He whined.

“Why did you show up here unannounced?” You questioned, lying down beside of him on your king sized bed.

“Wanted to see how practice went.” He turned the page, and you peered over his shoulder to see what he was reading. Of course it was a fashion magazine.

“Fine.” You answered simply, and your best friend was shutting the catalog instantly.  

“Damn, one syllable is all I get? Must’ve been better than I thought.” His smile was mischievous, and you had half a mind to smack it right off of his face.

“We danced. I learned the routine, and you did not. Which means you’ll have to work extra hard trying to catch up tomorrow.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what you were trying to do.

“Dude, shut up. You know I could learn it in my sleep, and you also know the ‘routine’ isn’t what I’m asking about.”

“Jimin,” you groaned, “don’t start.”

“Was it hot? Did you get off on grinding on Hoseok?” He wiggled his brows, and you flicked his nose with your thumb and middle finger.

“Ow!” He cried out, bringing a hand up to rub over the sore spot you’d just created.

“Don’t ask stupid shit like that.”

“Come on, Y/n. It’s me. You can talk to me about this shit.” He tried to convince you, and somewhere inside of you, you wanted to.

Because yeah, maybe you did get aroused from Hoseok’s hands on your ass. And maybe you did get a little wet when you were grinding against his thigh.

But who wouldn’t have? He was a fairly attractive man, after all. It didn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“I’m going to take a shower.” You quickly changed the subject, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

Jimin couldn’t help but to roll his eyes.

“You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“I know. Are you spending the night?”

You heard him sigh, a sad sigh that made your heart clench.

“I would, but... I don’t want to make Tae uncomfortable.”

“I get it. But you’re welcome to stay, you know that. This house is plenty big enough, and we always hang out in my room anyways.”

“Yeah, I know. But I’ve already pissed him off, or whatever. I’m sure me staying here would just add to that.”

You frowned, wishing that you could do something, or say anything to ease his obvious hurt.

“I love you, Chim.”

“Love you.”

Normally, you’d stay up until at least midnight. Tonight, however, you were exceptionally exhausted and were lying in bed by nine.

Your satin sheets felt extra comfortable underneath you, and your eyelids were heavy. Friends played on the big, wall mounted television in front of you, and the sound of your air conditioner running was lulling you right to sleep. Before you knew it, you were slipping into a state of blissful unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how you’d ended up in Hoseok’s apartment. And you definitely weren’t sure how you’d ended up nearly naked underneath him on his couch. You were squirming below his touch, his blunt fingernails lightly scraping down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

His hips were rutting into yours, Hoseok’s hardened length rubbing along your soaked, clothed core. You were a moaning mess, slews of curses and praises spilled out of your mouth, letting him know that you were fucking loving everything that he was giving you.

“Hoseok, please don’t stop.” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as you clutched onto his back in an attempt to keep yourself grounded. You felt like you were floating, like you were in a completely different time and place.

“God, I’ve waited so long for this,” he was growling lowly into your ear, his fingers descending south and flicking the thin strap of your thong against your hip, “waited so long for you.”

You yelped at the feeling of the string stinging your skin, your shriek turning into a whiny moan as you felt his hand begin to slip into your panties. You couldn’t wait for him to finally be where you needed him most. You didn’t care if his fingers were inside of you, his tongue, or his cock. You just needed some part of him filling you up. You needed it in the same way that you needed oxygen to survive, and you feared that you would die if he didn’t touch you right here, right now.

His head was hovering above yours now, and you were sure he was about to lean in for a kiss. Which had your pussy clenching around nothing. It had just occurred to you that you’d never kissed him, and all you wanted was to taste him. You were sure he’d taste delicious, sickeningly sweet.

Instead of his lips pressing against yours, though, they parted. And he began repeating your first name over and over again like a mantra, gradually getting louder and louder as the seconds ticked by.

One final yell of your name had your eyelids shooting open, the sound of Hoseok’s voice being replaced by the low tone of your brother’s. You blinked once, and then two more times for good measure. It took you a whole minute to realize that you were at home. In your bedroom, not in your choreographer’s apartment.

“Tae?” your voice was groggy, “what time is it?”

“Past ten. I could hear you from down the hall, it sounded like you were in pain so I came to check on you,” he said, cocking his head to the side as he stared down at you, “must’ve been one hell of a nightmare.”

Embarrassment immediately came over you, and you were thankful for the dark lighting of the room because you were sure your face was similar to the color of a tomato.

“Yeah— uh, just a... bad dream. I’m good.”

“If you’re sure.” His voice was laced with genuine concern, and you almost laughed. Such a protective older brother.

“I’m good, Tae. Swear.”

He nodded, mumbling a goodnight to you before turning to leave your bedroom.

You called out to him before he could shut the door.

“Hey, wait a second!”

“Yeah?” He was confused again, and you worried your lower lip before you spoke.

You weren’t usually one to meddle in his personal life, but this time, you felt like you had to. Or, that you at least had to try.

“You need to talk to Jimin. He thinks he made you upset, or mad. At the very least, you should tell him you aren’t angry with him.”

“Noted.”

That was all he said before he was shutting your door, and you couldn’t stop the dramatic roll of your eyes. Typical Taehyung.

You pushed your hair back and out of your face, grimacing as you felt the beads of sweat pooling on your forehead. In your half asleep state, you’d almost forgotten what you’d been dreaming about. You let out a groan as the images flashed through your memory.

Not only were you dreaming about Hoseok, but it was a wet dream. Surely, you hadn’t actually gotten aroused by it.

You bit down on your bottom lip before sliding your hand underneath your duvet, pressing your fingers against your underwear to test for any dampness. You gasped as you were greeted with soaked panties, hissing through your teeth as your fingertips barely grazed over your clit.

Before you really knew what you were doing, your hips were bucking up and into your hand. You pushed the cotton fabric to the side, letting your middle finger drag along your slick folds. You sighed at the feeling, your head tilting back as your eyes screwed shut. It was almost unbelievable how drenched you were just from a fucking dream. And a dream about your fucking choreographer, to beat it all.

You moaned at the images of Hoseok during practice earlier flooded your mind. He was so hot, and so sweaty. The way his fingers curled around your thighs had you wondering what it would feel like if he was the one touching you right now instead of yourself.

Maybe it was wrong, but you didn’t care. You kept yourself focused on Hoseok as you used your middle finger to circle around your throbbing bundle of nerves, whines and praises of his name slipping out of your mouth.

You dipped a finger down to tease your slit, imagining the entire time that it was him. You slipped a single digit into your heat and keened at the sensation. Hoseok’s fingers were much longer than yours, and you were sure he could have you cumming with them in no time.

Still, you decided to work with what you had and began to fuck into yourself until you were knuckle deep. You added a second finger and moaned at the stretch, your thighs beginning to shake already.

“Fuck, Hoseok!”

You picked up the pace of your fingers, curling once you found that spot that drove you absolutely mad. Using your free hand, you allowed your index and middle fingers to vigorously rub at your clit.

It was too much, too soon. Your walls contracted around your fingers, and your legs convulsed. Your thighs were trying to squeeze together and you were arching off the bed as you felt your lower stomach knot up, fire spreading from head to toe and making your toes curl.

Your orgasm hit so hard that you were practically screaming, Hoseok’s name being the only word left in your vocabulary. This was harder than any orgasm you’d had in a long time, and you could feel your juices squirting out and all over your hand and wrist. You squealed at the feeling, using your fingers to fuck yourself through your high.

Your breathing was erratic, and stars were circling above your head. You groaned as you pulled your hands away from your cunt, wincing at the emptiness.

An arm rested over your eyes as you attempted to stop panting. Slowly, you felt like you were back on earth again and the black dots you were seeing went away.

There was no fucking way that just happened. You did not get off while thinking of Hoseok.

You were furious. And you wished that you were mad at yourself, but the only reason you were angry was because you’d had to get yourself off. You wished it would’ve been him doing it instead.

Against your better judgement, you grabbed your phone off of your nightstand. It was eleven now, and although Hoseok was sure to be asleep, you needed to hear his voice. For what reason? You weren’t sure. Either way, you were scrolling through your contacts to find his name, pressing the call button with a bit too much enthusiasm.

When he answered the phone, his voice was raspy, deeper than usual. You were right, he’d been asleep.

“Hello?”

“Uhm, hi.” You said, voice shy and almost inaudible.

“Y/n? What time is it? Is everything okay?” He sounded worried.

“I’m okay! Uhh, it’s past eleven. I’m sorry for waking you, I didn’t mean to.” 

Yes you did.

He was beginning to sound a bit more awake now, and you heard him yawn on the other line.

“It’s alright, I just wasn’t expecting you to call. Or, call this late.”

“Yeah..”

It was silent for a few seconds, neither of you knowing quite what to say. You couldn’t exactly tell him that you’d just made yourself squirt to the thought of him. And he wasn’t about to tell you that he was glad you called.

“What are you doing up?”

“Uhm—“ you stumbled, trying to come up with any excuse other than the truth, “I couldn’t sleep.”

You heard him chuckle, and it was as if all of your worries and nervousness evaporated at the sound of his laughter.

“Not that I’m not flattered, but.. why did you call me because you couldn’t sleep?”

You groaned internally. Why did he have to ask such questions?

“I just... I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you, is all, I guess.”

“Okay.” He seemed satisfied with your answer, and you sighed in relief.

“Hobi?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you FaceTime me until I fall asleep?”

As badly as you longed to see him in person, you figured that this would do for now.

“Absolutely.”

He was calling you instantly, and you smiled as soon as you laid eyes on him. His hair was disheveled from sleeping, and his cheeks were a bit puffy. Suddenly, the other side of your bed felt a bit too empty. And you wondered what it would feel like if he were laying beside of you.

↼ masterlist ⇀

a/n: if you’d like to be added to the tag list, just send me an ask, message, or reply to this post! let me know what you think of the series, i love hearing your feedback. enjoy! xo

tag list: @ppersonna @neouihobi @vanteatj1n @55west81st @jjiminah @cesthoney @vaehyungsworld @ggukiyo @devotedlywriting @consensual-trashtalk @w1tchcraftt @threedecadesofawkward @chocobetterknot @americano-sprite @yoongisabby @hobi-love @justpeachyjoon @excuseme-youpretty @sunkissed725 @amoreguk @koostime @cobbiebaexqueen @imluckybitches @taefect94 @parkmaeri​ @bts-7-forever​ @gukniverse​ @untainted-memories​

a/n: tumblr won’t let me tag certain people for whatever reason. so if you’ve asked to be tagged and don’t see your name, that’s why! i apologize. :/

[smutbymia]

streetracer!mark (pt.3): highway to heaven

Click here for streetracer!mark (pt.1): Go

Click here for streetracer!mark (pt.2): 2 Fast

You passed out in the back of Taemin’s car the night before but woke up tucked into your bed the next morning in the apartment that you shared. This morning you could hear voices chattering outside your door for a change. Usually it was just you in the luxurious unit since Taemin lived in Europe most of the time but now that he was back for a little break the place felt less empty and a lot less lonely.

You crawled out of bed wearing the same dress you had worn to the club last night. At least Taemin had taken your makeup off, even if he did fail to throw out the makeup wipes afterwards which were now scattered across the nightstand beside your bed.

The memories of the night before began flooding back and your heart skipped a beat as you began to recall what had happened with Mark. You couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about not giving him a response after his confession due to Haechan's sudden interruption. Speaking of Mark and Haechan, you struggled to stop the theories swirling around in your head about what kind of business he needed to discuss with Taemin of all people.

You had no idea your brother even knew who Mark was but it didn’t seem to take Mark by surprise when your brother summoned him for a private conversation. It couldn’t have been about you, you thought. You sighed to yourself and ran your fingers through your hair, shaking it in an attempt to release yourself from the burden of your imagination.

You quickly slipped into some other clothes, opting for a pair of sweatpants and a cropped t-shirt before pulling your hair into a bun and heading into your en-suite bathroom to clean yourself up.

You spent the next couple of minutes upon returning to your room rummaging around for your cellphone. No notifications. You kind of hoped to hear from Mark until you remembered that the two of you hadn’t even exchanged numbers, though it probably wouldn’t be hard to find him on social media if you really wanted to reach him that badly. The grumbling of your stomach was all it took for you to abandon that thought and head towards your kitchen.

You were shocked to find Haechan seated on one of the barstools giggling uncontrollably and batting his eyelashes at Yuri, Taemins girlfriend, who couldn’t stop smiling at the younger boy as she scrambled eggs in a frying pan. Lucas sat a seat away from him, and two other boys who you recognized  as Sicheng and Yuta -- both well known racers who you had on your radar, were seated in the living room watching TV and chatting. They looked up and greeted you politely. 

“Oh, y/n! You’re awake,” said Yuri as you stopped to stare at the sight in front of you in confusion. “Okay, what the hell?” you mumbled to yourself, glancing at her from across the room. She gave you a weak shrug in return. “Taemin should be back soon!”

Haechan spun his head around to flash you his signature mischievous smile. You swore it always seemed like that boy was up to something. You greeted everyone and headed for the fridge to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Ah, sleeping beauty. You had quite the night last night didn’t you? It was a challenge getting you up here since you wouldn’t let anyone but Mark carry you!” he teased, laughing quietly to himself.

You froze, clumsily knocking over the glass in your hand onto the counter. Luckily nothing was in it yet. Haechan's hand flew over his mouth as he tried to hide his laughter as Lucas watched on smiling, entertained by your clumsiness.

“Sorry what did you just say? What exactly happened last night and why did Mark carry me upstairs when Taemin was the one who drove me home? Also no offence but what the hell are you all even doing here?” you asked, the words flying from your mouth too quick for anyone to keep up.

“Too many questions, and I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” Haechan groaned as he covered his ears. A few minutes later, coffee had been made and Yuri had served you all a plate of food to eat. You leaned over the counter picking at the eggs before bringing up the questions again. This time Haechan, who has happily stuffing his face, began filling you in.

“Well, last night Mark and Taemin had a lot of stuff to talk about but it was getting late so Taemin suggested that we all meet up here. Your brother drove you but you gave him a really hard time when it was time to get out of the car,” said Haechan in between bites. “Good thing Mark was there cause you seemed much more comfortable with... uh, obeying him,” Haechan said, exchanging a look with Yuri. A smile played on her lips as well and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Yuta and Sicheng seemed to have halted their conversation momentarily at Haechan’s comment but continued speaking a few seconds later.

“Oh god, what did I do? What did I say?” you said panicking. “Oh y/n, don’t worry. Honestly it wasn’t even a big deal,” Yuri began.

“You called him DADDY!” screeched haechan as he exploded into a fit of laughter, almost choking on his eggs. He frantically reached for a glass of water. Everyone in the room stifled their laughter.  

You hadn’t even noticed the fork you held had slipped out of your hand until you heard the clattering as it crashed against the plate. “A-are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered. You groaned in embarrassment before burying your face in your hands.

“Honestly that wasn’t even the funniest part,” started Haechan, “You should have seen Marks face! No wait, you should have seen Taemin’s! Ah, honestly you had to have been there... Like, consciously!” Yuri patted your head while Haechan rambled on as you let out an exasperated noise.

“It wasn’t that bad. To be honest, I felt bad for Mark more than anyone else. Taemin truly looked like he wanted to kill him but Mark handled it so sweetly. He brought you upstairs and tucked you in,” Yuri giggled at the memory.

“So he was the one who took my makeup off...” you mumbled to yourself. Yuri held her coffee cup to her lips as she took a sip. “Did he? Wow that’s sweet. Even Taemin isn’t that thoughtful,” she said as she rolled her eyes. She got up from her seat to clean up the kitchen while you continued the conversation as you slipped into the seat between Haechan and Lucas.

“Speaking of my brother... where is he?” you asked. “With Mark,” Lucas responded as he scrolled aimlessly through his phone. A few seconds later you could hear the front door opening as Mark and Taemin strolled into the apartment. 

Marks gaze fell upon you and Lucas who were in deep conversation. He didn’t look pleased but he strolled over to you anyway, and titled your chin up, shooting you a quick “good morning” before leaning down to kiss you, letting his lips linger a little longer than expected. He was clearly marking his territory.

The sound of Taemin clearing his throat was all it took for him to pull back. You could feel the heat rushing to your face... and other places. Bold move, you thought to yourself. Lucas had gotten up to join the other boys on the couch, clearly unbothered by the interaction. Mark slipped into his seat as Haechan pulled him into a conversation of their own.

Your brother glared at you from across the kitchen. He nodded his head towards the balcony and you knew right away that was his way of telling you that you both needed to speak alone. You got up immediately and followed him over. Mark snapped his head up the second you shifted out of your seat without a word, watching as you stepped out into the summer air. Haechan snapped his fingers in the face of his friend to direct his attention back to their conversation as he rolled his eyes. 

Taemin slid the glass door closed as he stepped onto the balcony after you. The two of you leaned onto the railing as you usually did and looked over into the city. “So, do you want to tell me why you have a bunch of guys in our apartment?” you declared. “And why you’ve been spending so much time with my—“ you began, before stopping yourself. 

“Your what, y/n?” your brother asked raising his eyebrows. You struggled to find your words. Goodness, you didn’t even know what exactly you and Mark were. You groaned before falling silent. Taemin patted your head and pulled you into his side.

“I’m not exactly happy about my sister... doing whatever it is that you’re doing... with Mark Lee, but you’re old enough to make your own decisions,” he said with a look of brotherly disgust on his face. “Hey, he’s not that bad,” you whined.

“Yeah I know, the timing just isn’t exactly ideal,” he said. You looked up at your brother, confused. “To answer your earlier question, I’ve been working on putting together a team of racers for a while now. These guys seem pretty promising and could really do well in the big leagues in the next couple of years. But Mark... is a little bit special,” Taemin said as he sighed.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “He’s talented but he’s been getting himself into a bit of trouble lately. Don’t worry too much, though. I don’t want you to get involved. We’re handling some things,” he warned.

“But—“ you started. Taemin shook his head. “Y/n...” he said sternly in a voice you hadn’t heard him use since your parents passed away, “I mean it. If you want to keep seeing him, and if you want to give him a real shot at a career then you’ll let us deal with this alone. Don’t even think about grilling him for any answers, either. I know how you can get sometimes.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he turned to head back inside. “Wait! Are you seriously forming a fucking racing team without me?!” you complained. Your brother laughed, brushing your comment off.

“Hey, you don’t even like racing. You just like winning. But don’t worry sis, I’m definitely going to need your help behind the scenes,” he said. You pouted and followed him back inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced after stopping to have a conversation with the boys in the living room about training times and locations. They nodded and headed out of the apartment, leaving just Mark and Haechan behind in the apartment with you, your brother, and Yuri, who had gone back to her room after breakfast.

You went back to your own room, flopping down on your bed. It wasn’t long before you heard a soft knock. “Come in,” you said as Mark peeked his head in. “Taemin just got in the shower. Are you sure your brother isn’t going to kill me if he catches us in here?” he asked. You raised your eyebrows at him. “Since when do you care about what my brother thinks?” you asked in return, patting the space next to you, signalling for Mark to come over.

“Hey! I’ve always had a lot of respect for him... Besides, he’s helping me out a lot,” he said as he sat next to you, leaning back onto his palms. “Sounds like someone has a man crush,” you teased. Mark rolled his eyes “I don’t know about that. He’s cool and stuff but I don’t think he’s very happy about the fact that I’m seeing his little sister. Especially after the way you acted last night,” he said as he scolded you. Your cheeks went pink as you gave him a sheepish smile.

“I mean kissing me like that at the club in front of him was one thing but calling me—“ he began. Your hands flew up to your ears as you groaned and fell back onto your bed to lay down, staring at the ceiling. “Please don’t remind me,” you begged. Mark laughed as he leaned over you, pressing his body onto yours. “You’re such a trouble maker when you’re drunk,” he said. You couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “Am I that hard to handle?” you asked him, dropping your voice down to a whisper, and biting on your lip. You were beginning to get restless with his body against yours. “I can handle you just fine. In fact, the only time you seem to behave is when daddy tells you to,” he teased, “it’s your brother that I feel bad for!” You shut your eyes tightly, groaning for what felt like the millionth time that day due to your embarrassment. You’d never stop beating yourself up over it.

Mark laughed softly as he brushed a few strands of hair out of your face and gazed down at you before leaning in for a kiss. You both relaxed into it as you savoured the feeling of his soft lips against yours. He carefully slipped his tongue into your mouth letting it explore every part of it before pulling your bottom lip in between his teeth, biting and pulling softly at the flesh. He moaned into your mouth as you roped your hands into his hair, wrapping your legs around his waist as he shifted to be directly on top of you. Your kiss was quickly turning hot and heavy as Mark rolled over, putting you in a position that allowed you to straddle him.

You broke the kiss as you sat up, smiling down at him. He looked tired but so precious. You rolled your hips to grind yourself against him gaining a groan from him in response as he ran his hands overtop your thighs and hips -- grabbing at whatever parts of your body he could reach. “Baby, please... he’ll kill me for real this time,” Mark said as his breathing became more shallow. You pouted in response. You wanted nothing more than to finally be able to have him in your bed but he was right. It was far too risky having sex in the middle of the afternoon when so many people were constantly coming in and out of your place but you couldn’t keep your hands off of him too long. 

You slid down the bed, falling to your knees next to it. “Hey, what are you doing?” Mark asked, reaching for you to bring you back up. You reached for his joggers, untying the strings and pulling at them to get him to shift them down lower. “Consider this as my way of thanking you for taking such good care of me last night,” you said as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft and reached your tongue out to lick the head of his dick. “Hey, I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he warned. “I’ll be quick, I promise,” you swore as you went to work on him. 

“Oh man,” moaned Mark as he bit at one of his knuckles to quiet himself. You pumped your hands up and down his length, slowly taking more and more of him in your mouth and pulling him back out with a pop ever so often. You could feel him grow harder under your touch as you swirled your tongue over his head, excitedly tasting and licking at his pre-cum the second that it spilled out of his throbbing erection. You bobbed your head up and down, mouth dripping over him as he let out soft whimpers. You moaned against his flesh at the sensation of him sliding in and out of you, hitting the back of your throat. Curse words spilled from Marks mouth as he struggled to keep his composure. His hand rushed into your hair as he guided you. You submitted to him completely, allowing him to control your movements. You wanted him to use you. You needed him to use you. You gazed up at him as you let him fuck your mouth, sometimes holding it in place whenever he had buried himself far enough down your throat and wanted to savour the feeling. 

It wasn’t long before he delivered his final thrusts, releasing his hands from your hair and running his thumb against your cheek as you continued to bob up and down, suckling at the head of his dick anytime you pulled him out of your mouth far enough for it to brush against your lips. Your eyes watered as you worked your hardest to please him.

 “You’re going to be a good girl and swallow for daddy, right?” he had whispered to you, making your nipples harden instantly. You hummed in response and soon enough he was releasing himself into you, filling your mouth with so much cum that it had nearly spilled out. You obeyed his commands and swallowed as he continued to softly rub at your cheeks, watching you from underneath his hooded eyes. “Yeah that’s right, baby. Just like that,” he praised. You rested your head against his thigh after you finished, a little tired as he pet your hair gently. 

You could feel your eyes getting heavier as he drew you back onto your bed, tucking you in under the covers. He sprinkled soft kisses all over your face. “M-mark?” you stammered. He met your gaze, letting you know you had his full attention. “I’m yours too,” you added. He gave you one final kiss before heading for the door now that Taemin would probably be out of the shower soon. “I know baby, you told me last night — actually you kind of told all of us, if you get my drift,” he said chuckling and flashing you a smug smile. You groaned again, swearing to yourself that your days of drinking were over. “Thank you, by the way. I really needed that,” he said before slipping out of your room quietly. Your head fell back into your pillow as sleep overcame you.

When you woke back up again it was around 3PM, your hangover had finally gone away, and you had much more energy than you did that morning. This time the apartment was quiet other than the ringing of your phone. You picked up even though you didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, it’s me. Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?” asked Mark on the other line. “I want to take you out!”

Your heart fluttered at his words. You hadn’t had the chance to go on a real date yet. You tried to hide your excitement as you responded

“Yeah of course, where are we going?” you asked.

“It’s a surprise, but dress comfortably. I’ll be there soon,” he ordered, before hanging up.

As if, you thought. There was no way in hell that you were going to just dress comfortably on your first date. You jumped off of your bed and immediately started rummaging through your closet. You pulled out a black, cotton, high waisted mini skirt, and a matching tie-front shirt to complete the set. Mark loved your legs so you definitely wanted to show those off and the thought of him undoing the front of your shirt was more than enough of a reason for you to wear it. You decided to slip on a pair of vans to add something a bit casual to the outfit before letting your hair fall out of the bun you had been wearing all day to reveal the waves that had formed. You were touching up your makeup just as you received the text telling you he had arrived and was waiting for you outside.

You grabbed your purse and headed for the door, passing Taemin on the way out. “Where the hell are you going looking like that?” he asked. He was cuddled up with Yuri as they watched some movie on TV. “Oooh you look so pretty!” she cooed. “Thanks, Yuri!” you said, before sticking your tongue out at your brother.

You slammed the door behind you. When you got outside, Mark was leaning on the side of his car. He wore a crisp white t’shirt and some light wash jeans, and narrowed his eyes as you approached before sighing. He reached out his arms to you as he ran them over your hips and down against your butt. “Didn’t I tell you to dress comfortably?” he said. You loved the fact that he couldn’t ever keep his hands off of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him your best puppy dog eyes. “You don’t like what I’m wearing?” you asked sweetly, knowing very well he did.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he warned jokingly, giving your butt a light squeeze before letting you go. He roped his hands into yours and then opened up the passenger door for you. When you sat yourself down into the seat, he leaned in to give you a quick peck before closing the door for you and jogging around and getting in on the drivers side.

Soon you were heading down the highway, far out of town. You sat back letting the wind blow throw your hair while you watched Mark goof around by singing or rapping whatever song played on shuffle. You were half an hour into your car ride when you began to fall impatient.

“Are we almost there?” you whined for the second time in the last ten minutes. Mark slid his hand onto your thigh as he always did, squeezing it lightly. “Just a little longer, baby,” he answered. You sighed deeply and looked back out of the window when you felt his hands slide up a little higher.

“Feeling restless?” He asked as he pulled at the thigh he held, opening your legs up as he kept his eyes on the road and his other hand on the steering wheel. He ran his fingers up and down your flesh raising goosebumps on your body. After a few seconds, he tugged at your skirt, raising it above your hips to give him better access to your core.

He danced his hands over the front of your panties, massaging at your clit through the fabric as you whimpered next to him. He was still hyper focused on driving and the fact that he was turning you on so much without even glancing over at you once made you even more wet. You kept your eyes on him as he slipped his hands into your panties, still casually humming along to the radio when he glanced over at you for the first time.

Your mouth was hung open and your eyes glazed over as he ran his fingers up and down your slit, collecting the juices on his fingers before circling over your clit again as he applied pressure to the sensitive bud. Moans spilled out of your mouth as you felt wetness spill out of you.

“So pretty,” he said as he smiled over at your fucked out expression. He slid a finger in you as you let curse words slip from your mouth, before inserting another to begin working two of his fingers in and out of your dripping hole. Your eyes fell closed as you tipped your head back in ecstasy. You held tightly onto his arm, gripping the muscles that protruded as he sped along the deserted highway fucking you with his fingers.

“Mark, oh my god,” you struggled to say between your moans. You could hear the wet sounds that came from your center as he quickened his pace. “Hey, undo that top for me,” he ordered. You obeyed, pulling at the fabric as the strings came undone, allowing the entire shirt to fall open to expose your bare chest. You reached up to palm your own boobs in your hands, massaging them, and twisting your nipples between your fingers.

“Shit, y/n,” he groaned as his eyes flashed between your writhing body and the road. You were so close to your climax. You felt mark hook his fingers inside of you, massaging at your g-spot. The cool air felt crisp against your chest and the sensation he was building up inside you was just enough to get you to the peak of your climax. “Come for me, baby. Right on my fingers so I can taste you,” he ordered. And that was it. Those very words were more than enough. You gasped as you orgasmed in the passenger seat of Marks car with his fingers burried inside of you.

His name spilled from your lips over and over again as you rode out your high. Mark held his fingers in place until your body relaxed around them again. It wasn’t until you opened your eyes again that he slipped them out of you and right into his mouth as he promised. He hummed, “Mm... so sweet.”

You were still gasping for air with your legs spread as you watched him lick his fingers clean. He turned and smiled at you before shooting you a more stern look. “Now, behave. I don’t want to hear any more complaints. We’re almost there!”

By the time you had buttoned your shirt again and pulled your skirt back into place you were pulling into a beautiful little beac town. You slipped your panties off, as Mark looked over with a questioning glance.

“You made me ruin them...” you explained. He laughed before grabbing them from your hands. “Hey I’m going to want those back! Wait, wow this place is so pretty,” you said as the scenery distracted you. You watched as the waves lapped against the sand and families lounged around by the water. Little shops and restaurants were scattered along the boardwalk that stretched across the waterfront. It was so pretty you didn’t even bother to scold mark as he slid the panties into his pocket.

He pulled into a parking lot before helping you out of the car. It felt surreal to be in such a beautiful environment. There were enough people around to give the little beach life but it also wasn’t overwhelming populated, allowing you to feel like you had really stumbled across the perfect little oasis. You walked hand in hand down the boardwalk, stopping in any little shop that caught your eye.

Mark was insistent on spoiling you, grabbing anything that you touched and ringing them up at the register. So far you had new handmade crystal earrings that held the promise of surrounding you with protective energy which Mark insisted “Was really important because you needed to be safer”, and a fake but cute little gold necklace that had the letter M on it that he said he planned on replacing with something better once you guys had the chance to go shopping in the city. Next, you stopped to have dinner at a Taqueria by the sand which resulted in both of you giggling as you got more food on your face than you did in your mouths.

Now the sun was setting and you sat a little way away from the crowded area of the beach snuggled up to Mark as you watched the sky change colors. “How’d you find this place?” you asked him. You sat between his legs, leaning your back onto his chest as you both faced the water. You had taken your shoes off to walk barefoot next to ocean before you grew tired and decided to cuddle as the temperature began to fall.

“When I first started racing I’d look for whatever parts of the highway were the longest and most deserted,” he began, “the cops never seemed to patrol the one we drove on to get here and so it was kind of my go-to when I wanted to just burn rubber for a good 20 minutes straight!”

“You really love racing don’t you?” you asked. He shook his head excitedly with an almost childlike smile on his face as he looked out towards the water.

“Most of the people who come here live in towns closer by so I almost never had any cars in my way. I ended up stumbling across this place one day but never really stopped for long,” he finished. You looked up at him, pulling his head down to brush your lips against his.

“Thank you for bringing me,” was all you could say in response. He pulled your face back towards his “I’ll take you somewhere even better next time,” he promised. It seemed to register at that moment how he had been acting all this time.

“Why do you keep saying things like that? And all these gifts?” you whispered as you touched the crystals that hung from your ears. Mark sighed.

“To be honest, if everything goes well with our new team then racing could be something serious for me,” he said. You shivered and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. “I’ve been talking with your brother a lot. He’s been able to see so much of the world and experience so many new things since he got out of street racing. I want that too, except I want to be able to do that... f-for you, mostly,” he confessed.

“Mark —“ you began. You wanted to shut down his words. You didn’t want him to walk around with the burden of whatever expectations he had started placing on himself because of your brother.

“No, I know what you’re going to say already,” he interrupted. “But hear me out. I used to race to survive, but now I have a chance to race and really live. And I know it might feel like things between us are casual but,” he paused, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“I-i don’t know. When I see myself really living, I can’t help but picture you there with me. It’s like I just have this urge to give you the entire world. I want to buy you everything that you like and take you anywhere that you want to go. No matter what it is, I just want you to have everything you could possibly want!” he rambled, sounding like a cute little boy with the worlds biggest dream that he was hellbent on achieving. You turned around to face him before pulling him into a hug. For what felt ages you held him as he sighed, resting his head against you chest.

“Mark, I have everything I could ever want right now,” you whispered.

Once the sun had gone down you had started to make your way back the the car. Mark scolded you for not following the dress code he had tried to set earlier. “Look at you freezing your little ass off,” he said concerned. He slipped his denim jacket around your shoulders. “Next time don’t be so stubborn. You don’t have to dress up for me you know,” he stated. You grumbled at this side, calling him ungrateful, playfully bickering back and forth as he held your hand and rushed you towards the car.

You were talking casually when Mark froze next to you, pulling his arm behind him as he stepped forward, shielding you from something in front of him. “Mark, what’s going —“ you began until you peered over his shoulder. You gasped softly as you clung to his back.

Four men stood close by his car. One of them held a gun up in the direction of the both of you. Despite the circumstances, Mark seemed to be surprisingly calm.

“Looks like we need to have a little chat, kid,” said the man with the gun. “You pulled out of the race but last time I checked, we had a deal and you haven’t held up your end of it yet!” he yelled as he cocked the weapon. The sound of the gun clicking sent shivers down your spine as you whimpered softly behind Mark.

He turned his head to the side to whisper to you quietly. “Hey, relax baby. Everything’s going to fine, I promise,” he said. Tears started to pool at your eyes.

He turned back to the guys who stood a few feet away from him. “Let’s handle this properly, but quit flashing that thing around. There are families here and you’re scaring my fucking girlfriend,” he spat.

He walked calmly over to the car as you clung to his side before opening up the passenger door. “Get in the car,” he ordered. You locked eyes with him, not wanting to leave his side. He stared to push you into the seat when he realized you had frozen into place and you let him guide you until you were seated. “Give me five minutes, I’ll be right back I swear,” he said as he gave you a soft and lingering peck before ordering you to lock the car as he pressed the keys into your palms and closed the door. He flashed you a weak smile and you watched in the rear view mirror as he disappear into the night with the group of men, tears spilling from your eyes.

Click here for streetracer!mark (pt.4): Mad City

[demauryss]

sail the wildest stretch; 1/6

Summary: Lucas is in a mess. His roommate is his ex-crush. He gets years worth of hairfall if he thinks a minute too long about his philosophy class. His penis-drawing talents are just out of the ordinary. And the cupid assigned to his case is a hair breadth short of committing his murder.

But it’s okay. As long as he has to worry about Eliott Demaury getting to murder him first.

or, cupid8776 has a lucas problem. lucas has an eliott problem. and they are not as unconnected as one might think they are.

enemies to lovers/matchmaking au.

ao3

chapter one: april thunders may blunders 

(next)

Dear Lucallecoeur456,

I’m extremely disheartened to announce that your request filed under letter no 654lgb has been denied. According to my records, it is your tenth letter in the past five months which is getting rejected. Personally, I feel saddened as you’re the only person assigned to me who’s over eighteen and still hasn’t found a match. I’d be able to help you better if you consider the following points while writing to cupidint.com next time:

While forming the letter, please consider typing in a computer before you write it down by hand. Or just consider inscribing neatly. You’re the reason our Server turns into a whimpering mess when it transcribes Coup de Foudre - assuming it’s what you write because frankly, your handwriting is garbage – as Coup de Foutre.

Please refrain from using acronyms in your letter. Writing ‘brb’ every time you deviate from a thought does not make you look good. Especially when the abbreviated form has the same number of syllables as the original word. Even better, just totally refrain from straying from an original thought only to come back to it after five pages. Makes me feel like I’m walking through a maze as I’m reading your letter.

While we’re on the topic of refraining, also stop drawing pictures of dogs when you’re asked for what you’re looking for in a partner. I know they are cute, but they can really not be an ideal partner for you.

Consider saving your satirical remarks for the real life. Our Server isn’t smart enough to detect sarcasm and thinks you are being serious when you describe a trash can in the space specified for explaining your qualities.

If you would ponder over these suggestions then I believe I’ll be able to find you a match and it’ll make both mine and your life a lot easier.

Yours truly,

Cupid8776

(They/Them)

*

The day Yann gets his letter, it’s everywhere on the news. local loner boy, Lucas reads somewhere, having qualities worse than the loner boy from gossip girl has a match. There’s a post circulating on twitter which goes friendly neighbourhood pretty man is officially off the market. And another after reading which makes Lucas wants to wash his eyeballs with hydrochloric acid: hot, tall, model-like being ready to dick down some pink canoes. it’s a trip you’ll never forget!!!

It doesn’t help that Lucas suspects Basile’s fan-account for Timothee Chalamet to be behind half of these posts. Especially the last one. And it also doesn’t help that Yann’s latest letter is currently getting glued to the roof of their bunk bed, right where Lucas would sure be made to stare at it for the rest of his puny life in the lower bunk.

“You’re a fucking prick,” Lucas grits out as he smothers the liquid and ugly look to the back of Yann’s letter. His hands are slimy, and Yann’s fucking face is smiling at him from the small chair he’s perched on. “You don’t even have the fucking decency to do it yourself. Can’t believe I ever thought that I like you. Fucking unbelievable.”

Yann tuts, low and too sure of himself. His face is glowing. His eyes are crinkled. And he desperately needs a punch in one or both of these areas, “You’re being dramatic, you know that?” Yann gets up from the chair, a marker in his hands. If it were up to Lucas he would have used that same object to ruin Yann’s pretty pastel pink blanket. The asshole deserves that and even more. Muttering some more curses, Lucas goes back to the task at hand – pasting the paper in smooth cursive writing courtesy of Cupid5644 on the roof of his bunk bed. Yann looks towards him in the middle of drawing a tally across the four small lines marked on the cupboard above the handle. His face is glowing. He desperately needs a punch or kick to dull that fucking shine. “Besides you signed this up for yourself. So shut the fuck up.”

Lucas groans, resting his head against his pillow, the letter he just pasted staring down at him in all its glory. “This whole thing is ridiculous Yann,” Lucas starts, hands crossed on his chest, “I still believe it’s a world-government scam meant to lure people in for their assassination later. Like, can you believe even Sully from 231-9 has a match. There’s no way you can expect me to believe the System is genuine.”

Lucas looks over to Yann who’s now leaning against the cupboard, scrutinizing Lucas from afar, “Are you sure your reason for not trusting them has got to do with that and not with the fact that in the past three months, each one of your request has been rejected with no guarantee of you ever finding a match?”

“Fuck you, Yann,” Lucas scoffs, turning his back to Yann, his front to the wall. Let Yann believe whatever he wants. It doesn’t affect Lucas, nor does it have any ring of truth to it. Fucking douchebag. Let his match turn out to be some astrology-loving, Harry-Styles-listening, ravenclaw-ass-fanatic. She’ll leave Yann’s Scorpio ass in seconds.

He hears Yann’s footsteps before Lucas feels him crouching behind him, Yann’s finger poking the back of Lucas’s shoulders, “Hey now,” he sounds apologetic, Lucas will give him that, “Life isn’t all about that jazz; your match or partner or whatever. Don’t worry about it. At least you haven’t fallen for their scam yet.”

Lucas laughs as he turns to Yann. His face is glowing. Lucas has changed his mind. The former Yann might deserve a slap in the face with a brick but this Yann deserves all the Kit-Kats Lucas has stashed under his bed. Cupid8776 will have a field day if they found Lucas’s current train of thoughts. Shocking, Lucas can imagine the magnitude of their gasp, Lucallecoeur456 does have a heart after all. Who would have thought.

 Lucas smiles at Yann as he extends his arm for him to take. “C’mon now. Basile will have both of our heads on a plate if we waste another second.” He gets up, stepping into his shoes as Yann walks out of their dorm. Something crunches under his foot – Lucas’s blunder; his newest message from Cupid8776. He had thought maybe Letter No 654lgb – lonely gay boy, for clarification – would finally tire them out. But apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Yann had laughed for ten minutes straight when he had read the letter. “Your cupid is going to commit mass murder one of these days. And I think you’re going to be the first.” Lucas had shook his head at Yann’s analogy; he isn’t that horrible. He sighs as he bunches the paper into a ball and bullseye’s it into the trash can – the one he’d described in his letter. Cupid8776 has a big storm coming next.

*

So here’s the thing in quite simple terms.

The world’s currently under the secret matching agency Cupid International. Before that it used to be SoulsBound, with the tagline where we find your soulmate for you. But then the name changed to Cupid Int. after getting involved in one too many scandals which Lucas remembers vividly; bold headlines on the front page of several newspapers: Soulmate leaves Soulmate for another, better Soulmate #SoulsBoundFails. And Soulmate doesn’t buy eco-friendly products. Puts the planet at risk #FixItSouls. And another, much dangerous and serious than the rest, which still gives Lucas nightmares to this day: Gryffindor finds out Soulmate is a Slytherin. Says even pet stones can tell they’re not compatible #FuckSoulsBound.

These outrages demanded an instant name change, so SoulsBound transformed to Cupid International; with a union of specially trained cupids from all over the world designated to find your potential match anywhere on the planet after you turn eighteen. The changes were justified and a long time coming, Lucas would say, as for him the term soulmate warranted a much deeper, not an ephemeral meaning; which couldn’t be forsaken for anything. But the soulmate that they suggested were anything but that.

And that’s what brings Lucas to the now: the thought that why people hassle so much for getting their letters to Cupid International as soon as they turn eighteen. Why instead of trying the conventional dating method - which has been getting much recognition as of late - they relied on some unknown person’s (or spirit? Who even were Cupids?) judging of whom they’d be compatible with. But then he guesses it has something to do with the fact that the conventional method is for people the Agency has dubbed hopeless – whose matches they still couldn’t find after years of research and rejection. Lucas is halfway turning into one of the people what with his letters of rejection piling up in the trash can.

But that’s not it. The Agency has more success than its scandals, which puts Lucas off. His grandparents met through the former SoulsBound. His neighbors that have been married for over forty years when he started university met through that. Yann’s parents met through that. Everyone he knows has some kind of emotional success story regarding SoulsBound/Cupid Int,.

And then his father had gone against the system and met his mother through the conventional dating method. Look where it had brought them now.

And here’s a thing in even simpler terms.

 Lucas hates Cupid International with a passion which burns his sternum and makes his stomach coil in disgust. And it has nothing to do with the way he has told Yann how he thinks the whole System is a government scam. But it has everything to do with the way how Cupid8776 has denied all forty of Lucas’s letters sent in the past nine months of him being eighteen. It makes his heart boil in his blood when he thinks about how he’s turning nineteen in three months and he still has no fucking chance of ever being matched with someone. Which sucks because out of all the remaining 6,999,999,999 people in the world, there still isn’t someone with same interests as him.

Which is cool. Fine even. Lucas isn’t petty about it. And definitely an ass. No. He’s anything but an ass about it. Because you see. He keeps in contact with Cupid8776 when he’s not writing to them on the specified days of the week. He asks them about their health, their lives. If they have someone special in their life. If they took their dog to a walk. If they’re remembering to stay hydrated.

He makes sure to send in an email every week, even if all he gets in reply is a monotonous Dear Lucallecoeur456, I’d appreciate if you would stop sending me non-work related messages. This email is reserved for work queries only. I’d also appreciate if you would use the time you took in composing this message on your request letter as I’m sure it would be more useful than this. Yours truly, Cupid8776 (They/Them) every single time.

So that’s what he does every time, much to the cupid’s dismay. He spends more time drafting his grocery list than the letter. Spends more effort in drawing stick figures of his enemy than correcting mistakes in the letter. Takes more interest in Cupid8776’s private affairs than his own. And still complain every fucking time why he hasn’t found a match yet.

But like he said, it’s fine. He’s fine.

*

The first damper on Lucas’s already damped mood comes a little after one. When a pretty fucking important experiment is turned in incomplete. The second comes in the shape of a person. And it’s much significant than the other.

Lucas has just crawled out of a brutal microbiology lab, his clothes tattered, voice bruised from screaming at his group members who don’t even know how to work around a fucking microscope. One would disrupt the lens and the other would somehow mess with the resolution. And then Lucas would curse his life and begin the whole fucking experiment just for the thrill of it, really.

So it goes without saying that after seven unholy tries on the experiment, it had been left incomplete as they ran out of time. Unfinished experiments aside, Lucas was fucking exhausted. He could feel the tired in every cell of his body as he walked from the class to the cafe in the campus where he’d agreed to meet the boys. Now not only was he about to drop down any second, he was also fourteen minutes late.

“You’re so early, Lu,” Arthur drawls out, dull, “Couldn’t have come even earlier if tried.”

Lucas shakes his head and plops down loudly on the bar stool in between Arthur and Yann. He dumps all of his stuff on the ground, wincing as the muscles in his neck scream in protest. “I’m sorry,” Lucas sighs, reaching over Arthur to hit Basile on the back of his head who appears to be sleeping with his head resting on the curve formed by his arms which are folded on the counter. He jolts up, eyes wide, as he looks around the café with hand rubbing where Lucas hit him.  “This fucker left me on my own in the lab. It was a nightmare, honestly.”

Arthur smiles his head as Basile pouts, “What was I to do, man? Daphne asked for my help, I couldn’t say no to her!”

Lucas shakes his head, looking over to Yann as he nudges his shoulder. Yann motions towards Basile, “But you don’t have a match, right? Where does Daphne come from in all of this?”

A proud smile takes over Basile’s features. Lucas finds it funny how the words Daphne and match in the same sentence makes the sadness and the sleep to literally dissipate from his face. “I know that, Yann. But to answer your second question, I sent an email to the cupid and he reassured me that I’d find a match in the next attempt so.” Basile shrugs like it’s no biggie, when to Lucas, in definitely is. “I’m hoping it is Daphne.”

“Here’s to fucking hoping,” Lucas’s attempt at muttering is intercepted by Yann, who looks at him weirdly. As if in a question. Lucas shrugs, no biggie. He also finds it funny how Basile’s cupid is replying to his emails reassuring him about the whole fucking ordeal, while Lucas’s cupid can’t be bothered for anything. Lucas gets this: Cupid8776 definitely has something against him.

They place their orders for their beverages: coffee for all of them except Lucas. He goes with cardamom tea. It’s when the café’s beginning to fill up with people getting freed from classes that Arthur speaks up. “But like, you haven’t met the person before right? What if they have the emotional range of a lentil?”

Out of the four of them, Arthur was the one who cared the least for the System, even less than Lucas did. He hasn’t sent a single request to Cupid International, saying he isn’t the one for dating or love. And Lucas respects all his choices. He looks up, affirmation on his tongue. But then his eyes fall over Arthur’s shoulder, in between the barricade of tired students blocking the door. And he thinks, he thinks – holy motherfu-

“Speaking of lentils,” He takes a sip of his tea, meeting the boys’ confused stares, “Here comes one, heads-up.”

And it’s just that – how Lucas spots him and a murky grey takes over his surroundings. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Something weird settles in his stomach as his friends look over to the ill lentil as a smile blooms across his ugly face. Fucking traitors.

“Eliott!” One of them shouts. It’s probably Basile. It’s definitely Basile with the way he’s waving his hands in the air. Lucas would have probably knocked them off of the face of the earth had it not been for Yann seizing him by placing both of his hands over Lucas’s shoulder. Lucas inhales deeply as Eliott walks over to their little settlement of barstools and idiots, a bounce in his step as he plays with the strap of the bag over his shoulder. Lucas looks anywhere but at him as he comes to stand next to Basile as he yells excitedly, “Good to see you here.”

“You too.”

Lucas just about murders Basile with nothing but his mind as Eliott’s shirt comes into his line of vision. And as Lucas looks up - goes against the well-being of his eyes - his eyes take a quick sweep of Eliott’s tall figure. Nothing out of the ordinary. He’s currently smiling warmly at Basile, then at Arthur. It’s when that his eyes fall on Lucas that the previous warmth in them is sucked out of them, like a vacuum, and they harden like stones as Eliott looks at him. And Lucas thinks he’s probably remembering the latest stick figure drawn on a piece of paper which Lucas had hit him with earlier as he was bent over an old, tattered book in the library.

“Have a seat, mate.” It’s Arthur. Double fucking traitor. Lucas should consider getting new friends. (But then, he thinks quite sadly, who would ever befriend him if not for these completely insufferable idiots?)

Lucas watches, stomach in knots and million things on his tongue, as Eliott’s face softens as he turns to Arthur. He smiles, “I have a class soon so I should get going.”

Basile murmurs something about it being a bummer. Arthur tells him that they’ll see him around. Lucas doesn’t know a bummer or what that is but he knows the look Eliott gives Lucas over his shoulder as he leaves – he knows the menace which is coiled in the white of his eyes, the absolute anger and disgust  he’s reserved for Lucas comes pooling out in that instant, and Lucas almost washes away with it. Fucking pretentious asshole.

Lucas swallows his heart beating in his throat as Eliott disappears from his sight. Un-clenches his hands which have formed a fist without his knowledge. He turns on his stool, passes Yann a smile who’s been weirdly quiet during that encounter, watches as Basile’s contemplative face comes into his line of vision. And curses whoever put him in this situation: A Thinking Basile is not a Good Basile.

“Do you know apparently Eliott still hasn’t found a match either? Which is odd, since the guy’s a deity. I mean, just freaking look at him!”

Arthur side-eyes Lucas as he nods his head in agreement. Lucas should seriously consider getting new friends. The ones he currently have differ largely from on certain matters. And it fucking sucks that they know it too. “Yeah,” Arthur is saying, “he’s pretty. And nice too.”

‘Nice’ my fucking ass. Lucas shakes his head, finishes his cold tea in a second, and picks up his bag which he dumped to the floor. It is common knowledge that Eliott Demaury is good-looking. He’s the person everyone in their uni flocks up to. He’s also pretty fucking amazing at everything he does. Which only irks Lucas more. He gets up, adding onto Basile and Arthur’s conversation with a silent Yann in tow.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom,” he speaks to no one in particular, not really expecting the three people to stop their oh-so-important conversation about Eliott Demaury to pay him any attention. Shaking his head, he runs through a crowd, past a sulking worker, stressed students and mahogany colored back door to an alley o sheltered light and soft breeze.

Lucas breathes in deeply. His bag makes a sound as it plops to the ground. Closing his eyes, he focuses on calming his heart down which is beating so erratically Lucas has trouble keeping his mind on one place. If he could just wrap his hands around that fucker’s ne-

“Fancy seeing you here,” Oh fucking hell. Lucas fires off every curse he could think of in his heart. There is an off feeling in his stomach as he opens his eyes to Eliott’s hooded figure sitting off to his right, a cigarette placed between his lips. Lucas has to look down to place the full expression on his face, and it thrills him a little. (The act of looking down at him, for once. Not the clever smile which is placed on his face.

“Well, how’s your day doing?”

“Oh, it’s you.” Lucas shrugs his shoulders like it isn’t taking a great deal out of him to plaster the absolute fake smile on his face. “I was wondering why suddenly all the clouds turned grey.”

Even though he’s standing five to six feet away, Lucas doesn’t miss the brie fall of Eliott’s smile. But it’s coming into place faster than Lucas has the chance to feel good about the whole ordeal. He watches, against his will, as Eliott takes a long drag of his cigarette, the end of the stick burns brighter in glowing red embers before he blows white puffs of smoke in the air. He’s just so –

Lucas bites down on his lip to prevent the stupid thoughts from slipping out. Eliott watches him with (feigned) interest.

“Ahh there he is,” Eliott straightens his back. Even though he’s sitting on the steps to the side and Lucas is standing, it still – somehow – feels as if Eliott’s looking down on him. “I was wondering where the meanie in you has wandered off to.”

He didn’t just call Lucas a meanie. What the fuck.

Lucas heaves in a sigh. Wills his heart to stop hammering. “You wouldn’t know a thing or two about that, now. Would you?”

Lucas notices the little shake of his head, the light which falls over his face making it look like it’s dropped the sneer which has now become a part of his features whenever he’s around Lucas. And Lucas should revel in the thought of getting Eliott to show his real colours, but it grates on him regardless.

Eliott rubs his thighs over his jeans. Lucas traces the motion with narrowed eyes. And when he speaks, it’s to a completely different wave.

“You know, when someone asks about your day, you reply and then ask the question back. It’s called having a conversation, you know?”

Lucas bites the inside of his cheek, words already spilling out before he has a chance to assess them, “And what part of me actually looks like I would want to have any conversation with you?” Just. Who does he think he is? Pretending to be nice and all that. It doesn’t mean Lucas would forget when yesterday he doused Lucas’s workplace in some sticky as hell material which ruined not only his assignments which he spread on the table but left a permanent damper on his mood.

There’s a tilt to Eliott’s lips, his eyes bright and every bit gauging Lucas with the way they’re trained on him. The structure in his chest gives a painful squeeze.

Lucas doesn’t like it. At all.

“I should have known,” Eliott says with an air of nonchalance that has Lucas’s insides firing up in anger and – “You’re not one to have a conversation with.”

“Glad to have that sorted, then.” Lucas decides for the same tone Eliott chose earlier. He turns on his heels. And with Eliott’s eyes digging holes in his back, he returns through the same door he came out of earlier.

*

So here’s another thing in the simplest of terms. Lucas isn’t fond of many things in his life. He hates the System, his philosophy professor, Sully from 231-9. But what he hates even more than all of these things is the fucking lentil Eliott Dick Demaury.

*

There’s a dull buzzing seeping into his bones as Lucas walks towards consciousness. His limbs are still heavy with sleep, his eyes glued shut as he pats around his pillow for the vibrating device around him. He picks the phone up around a yawn, voice groggy as if he hadn’t used it in years.

Well, he hasn’t used it in hours. So. There’s that.

“Hello?” He croaks out, snuggling his face into the pillow under his head.

“Lucas Lallemant! Why are you still sleeping?”

The voice, filtered through the static, still compels Lucas to bolt upright in the bed, eyes now opened wide as he rubs away the sleep with his hand. “Mama!” He wills his voice to sound as if a trail of drool hadn’t had been drying at the side of his mouth. “You’re still up!”

His mama chuckles a little, as Lucas is left to smile sheepishly. Her voice comes clear now, “I would have called you at crack of dawn and you would still have said the same thing. Besides, don’t you have to go to your shift in half an hour?”

Lucas frowns, and then gets out of the bed. He finds Yann gone, his bed properly made. That’s why Lucas was able to sleep that much, considering Yann has reserved a distinct hatred for Lucas’s sleep.

His limbs are heavy as he changes out of the moth-ridden (not exactly, but its appearance justifies the statement) shirt he slipped into before his nap. “How have you been, Mama?”

“Great,” his mother speaks on the other line. There’s a brightness to her voice which lessens as well as increases the cut of homesickness lodged inside the muscle of his heart. Lucas doesn’t let himself dwell on the sudden sadness which grips him. Instead he focuses on the smile he can hear in his mother’s flowery tone, “I’ve been spending a lot of time in the garden these days. You know the plants Willow got me? They flowered yesterday and they’re so beautiful Lucas!”

Lucas smiles as he picks up his bag lying by the door.

She hums on the other line. “And Dr. Noelle changed my medication. We’ve switched to lighter pills instead of those heavier ones that always made me drowsy and loopy. She said I’m doing better so no need for the heavy dosage.”

There’s something like relief travelling with the air he inhales right to his heart. The sun is bright as Lucas makes his way outside. “That’s good, Mama.”

His mother launches into details about stuff about her new medication like the schedule and the amount of pills she’s required to take each time. Lucas walks out of the campus, listening intently to his mother’s retelling of the shenanigans happening in the various clubs she has joined now that she doesn’t feel so drained anymore. Lucas tells her about his classes and life in return.

 “Oh, yesterday in the cooking club, Nadine switched Hira’s container of salt with baking powder. It was quite fun to watch them two bickering afterwards. And there’s a betting pool going around the club about how much time they’re going to take before they get together.”

Lucas shakes his head, a smile pulling up on his face as he crosses the road, “Mama, you should help them sort out their differences instead of enjoying their fights!”

Lucas can hear her shaking her head. She continues, “We should, but it won’t be fun anymore. Besides, I do like some slow burn if I say so myself.”

“You’re spending too much time on the internet,” Lucas muses, “Next thing I know you’ll tell me that you’re reading fanfictions.”

His statement is met with silence. Suspicious silence. He has a minute to be terrified at the prospect before he’s breaking out in laughter, “What the fuck, Mama!”

“Language, Lucas!” She chides, but there’s a smile in her voice which grips Lucas’s heart. Even though he’s kind of wary about the stuff she must find on the web, Lucas knows she can fend for herself.

“Anyways,” she steers the conversation to another direction. Lucas goes with it. “You’re coming on Saturday, right?”

Lucas nods, “Yeah Mama. I’ll try to make it on Friday if the boys haven’t got something planned already.”

The store comes into view, so Lucas says his goodbye into the phone. “I need to go, Mama,” Lucas swallows down the bile which rises in his throat. He misses her so damn much. “I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.” The lines drops, and Lucas is let to chase away the sudden sadness he feels. For a minute, he stands there outside the store, his heart beating with a pang of homesickness. But then he forces air into his lungs, clears his mind, and goes inside the store.

The store is blissfully silent when Lucas enters through the door. There’s a faint smell of lavender still left from the candle Mika must have burnt earlier. Lucas drops his bag behind the counter before he picks up the various records and CD’s piled on the counter and places them in their racks. He starts making his way to the store room for the stuff which was shipped earlier. Might as well get a head-start if he’s early.

The store’s owned by Mika’s aunt, and Lucas works part-time here. It’s a vintage record store; the business is okay. He had earned a full scholarship in the university, but needed a job for the basic necessities in his life. Mika offered a job – and the wage was enough to pay off his expenditures. It is okay, better even. Except – except for the –

Lucas ends up walking face first into a rock-hard chest. His nose gets squished against a set of solid pectoral muscles, the cartilage singing with pain. There are hands grabbing his forearms; stale cigarettes and citrusy bubblegum taking up a better half of his brain. If it hadn’t been for the way the systems operating his reflexes have trained him to be repelled away as soon as the scent hits his nostrils, Lucas is a hundred percent sure he would have delivered a leg straight into the dick in front of him.

“Hey,” there’s an iciness which Lucas feels even though he’s overtaken by the pain in his nose. Lucas looks up, up; and here he is – the dick in all its ugly glory. Lucas tries not to fall on the spot.

“Lucas Lallemant is early? Am I dying or is it really happening?” Eliott cocks his head to one side, lips tilted up a fraction. Lucas smiles back sarcastically. What if he is late to almost everything in his life? That’s none of Eliott’s fucking business. Forcing the very delicious image of Eliott choking to death in his sleep to a dark corner of his brain, straightens his shoulders to stare at Eliott square in the eyes. He’s sad and he’s tired. So he doesn’t have any energy to deal with Eliott today, “Please crawl to whatever grimy hole you’ve crawled out of this time, Demaury.”

Footsteps follow his as he spots up the cardboard box holding the new records in the store room. Mika told him to stack them once he gets the time. He’s picking it up when the slime-covered asshat opens his mouth, “What are you doing?”

Lucas sighs, “Operating a spacecraft.” He moves towards the box, hearing Eliott’s footsteps falter behind him. “What does it look like?” Lucas picks up the box, but Eliott isn’t up to giving it a rest.

“Actually, leave it there. You’re on dusting duty today.”

The fuckin- “What?” Lucas turns on his feet. His stomach is doing weird somersaults. He crosses his arms across his chest and looks at Eliott, whose eyes are narrowed as if he’s examining Lucas. It’s like he’s plotting Lucas’s murder. And Lucas – he has a flashing thought. That would be the highlight of Eliott’s life, no?

He shakes himself into the present. And then gets the words out with great distaste. “Mika told me to stack them so.” He turns around once again, moving towards the box, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Lucas shakes it off quickly.

Eliott stands off to one side, his face in its perpetual state of frown around Lucas. “Mika left me in charge,” he says, leaning his wait on the door as he looks down at Lucas. He won’t be intimated. No.

Eliott’s eyes flick to the box Lucas has picked up as he turns around, heart and head set in determination despite the initial bout of anxiety and something else which still sings inside him somewhere. Eliott almost has a foot of height in Lucas, and if that isn’t enough to make Lucas flee to the mountains, there are parallel lines drawn on the skin his forehead. His eyes are green, the one which reminds Lucas of moss gathered on stones settled to the ocean bed. Solid. Firm. Steady. Lucas wants to reach out and slap that look off of his face.  Preferably with a chair. He raises an eyebrow; a challenge.

Something like light flashes on Eliott’s face, giving Lucas a look into an annoyed feature before turning neutral again. Like the plants viewed from the askew perception of water floating above the surface, Eliott’s eyes turn infinitesimally greener. “You’ll dust off all the records in the A to M section. Or if you’d rather I tell Mika about the time you scratched one of his Stevie Wonders vinyl, I’m down with that too.”

There’s no wonder in the way the box previously in Lucas’s hands retains its original place. No. Definitely not him getting intimated by that giant goo of citrusy smelly being with his head too far up his head. Eliott’s face transforms into one of his ugly smirks; the one which is belittling and totally hateful towards Lucas. Lucas just about launches his self upon him.

“If we’ve figured that out,” Eliott straightens his body, his eyes have that weird sparkle that they always gain whenever they see Lucas miserable, which is just about every fuckin time Lucas comes in contact with Eliott. “I also would like if you could hurry up. We don’t have all day today.”

Lucas bunches his hands in fists to his sides as Eliott walks out, all pretentious and glad as he is to have the final word. He blesses Lucas with one final boastful look over his shoulder, the green now as bright as day.

 It’s no biggie, Lucas thinks. He can easily refuse. There must be atleast a thousand records in the A to M section. Well, not a thousand but you get the gist. And Céline has been in Léon for the past week to attend her brother’s wedding. Which means the records wouldn’t have been dusted for years. Not only would Lucas have a stellar day cleaning them, but his terrible allergy would cause him immense pain. But the scratched vinyl and Mika’s wrath after knowing about it would cause him a direct ticket to his grave.

So with heavy steps and an equally heavy heart, Lucas stomps over to the racks holding the worn out records covered with dust. There’s something tingling in stomach. He swallows down the feeling, and pushes Eliott out of his mind. That fucking asshole. No wonder he hasn’t got a match.

He goes towards to the record player he persuaded Mika to get for the store. Eliott had brewed a shit storm when Mika had agreed. His ‘Music would be distracting’ was countered by Lucas’s ‘What kind of a music store would it be if it had no music playing?’ and in the end, Lucas had watched a brooding Eliott triumphantly as Mika brought in his uncle’s record player the next day. And so it beings him a great deal of joy as he places in a record in the player that Mika has given his permission to be played in the store.

The records in front of him glisten with the reason Lucas would be walking out of the store with his eyes on fire and respiratory track on a lock down. Elton John croons in the background as he takes out the sticky notes from his pocket (they come in handy when the situation is like this, okay?), tears off a note. Eliott doesn’t, thankfully, surprisingly, bother him once as he gets to work.

*

It’s to a violet and pink merging together that Lucas looks up to when he makes his way out of the store. Even though his eyes are stinging, and his throat feels like the surface of a cemented wall; all rough and scratchy with cheeks stained with the water his eyes won’t stop producing, Lucas still looks up as a bird takes flight into the setting sun, a silhouette of the fucking time and energy Lucas lost removing years’ worth of dust off of records and cursing the asshole parading the halls with a stick in his ass.

Lucas doesn’t know why Eliott has made it the mission of his life to make Lucas’s life hell. And he also doesn’t know why Eliott’s like warm, soft sunshine when faced with anyone other than Lucas. Hell, if Céline had been the one asked for the task, Eliott would have stepped right up as the fucking gentleman he is to offer to do it himself. And it is funny how once he’d spot Lucas, his face would twist like he’s sucking on a sour lemon or something. Lucas doesn’t get that. He can’t.

With a sigh heaved out of his super congested nose, Lucas starts walking back to his dorm, his bag slung over his shoulder. He had been thankful for Eliott’s absence as he was walking out. It gave him a chance to stick the drawing which he made onto the first page of some deep shit book Lucas knows Eliott keeps in the drawer of the counter. Eliott was nowhere to be found, and Lucas was left with the proof to reinforce his theory. He firmly believes that besides being a fucking dick, Eliott Demaury is also a ghost which keeps appearing out of the blue and then disappears as if it hadn’t been there before. And Lucas is quite okay with that. The role suits Eliott in more ways than one – but it’s also sad Lucas’s won’t be able to get the pleasure of murdering Eliott if he’s already dead.

A rain droplet falls from the darkening sky over Lucas’s head. It lands cold in the center, making Lucas quicken his pace as he rounds the final corner near the dormitory. Yann would already be there, and Lucas can pester him all night to get him some chicken soup.

He makes it to his room just as the rain starts pelting on the ground. Lucas kicks off his shoes as he enters the room. Yann’s hunched over the study table, half asleep from what it appears to him. It’s when a particularly loud sneeze bursts through Lucas that Yann looks up.

“You look like a vampire,” Yann snickers as he looks at him. Lucas doesn’t need to look in the mirror to see what mighty image he’d be painting with red eyes and pink nose and tear-stains on his cheeks. He drops his bag, takes off his wet clothes and jumps into the bed in his boxers. Muffling his face into the pillow he lets out a groans, “I hate that asshole so much.”

“Whom do you not hate?” There’s a smile in Yann’s voice. Lucas chooses to ignore it. He sighs, turning on his back and staring at the abomination he glued to the roof of his bed earlier.

“That’s not the point, Yann,” Lucas exhales, “He knows I have a dust allergy. But still he fucking blackmailed me into dusting the records. It’s like he was getting me back on something.”

“Well, you do keep making those drawing of him,” Yann stops just as Lucas sits up. He scoffs, “Whose side are you on Yann? I can’t believe he’s bewitched you too.”

Yann shakes his head. He looks like he’s regretting every of his decision which brought him here, to this second, with a Lucas with a quarter of his brain working. Fucking Eliott Demaury and his fucking charm. Lucas doesn’t get what’s so special about it.

“-and then I had to walk in the rain,” Lucas continues, sighing into his arm. There’s a light pitter patter which is reaching Lucas’s ears. Lucas would have been able to take in the sandy smell that must be wafting in the air if his nose hadn’t been so congested. It’s Eliott’s fault. All of it. “Fucking pretentious asshole,” Lucas mumbles.

Lucas turns his head. Yann has his contemplative face on, “Don’t take it the bad way Lu, but don’t you think you’re kind of hung up on him?”

Lucas sits up, shocked to his very core. With a gasp he splutters like a fish out of water, “I’m not!”

Lucas doesn’t know where Yann is getting these terrible thoughts. Lucas won’t fall a prey to that. Fuck. Yann doesn’t seem fazed. It’s like he’s done this every other day of his life. What, Lucas doesn’t know. “If you ask me, or Arthur, or Basile, it kind of seems that you are, Lucas. You bring him everywhere, you know? Even if the situation doesn’t call for it, you’ll somehow make it so it has something to do with Eliott. And I think that’s where your fault lies: You give him too much thought.”

And that is…..totally not wrong. Maybe partially, but – Lucas does bring him everywhere with him. And that’s totally on Lucas. It’s maybe the reason he’s so miserable half of the time. He gnaws at his bottom lip, then, as in afterthought, speaks, “Well, then, fuck the rain, I guess?”

Yann’s face lights up as a chuckle passes his lips, “You know what they say Lucas: April showers May flowers.”

Lucas looks at him from the corner of his eyes, “More like April thunders May blunders but whatever floats your boat, I guess.”

And like expected, Yann starts shaking his head, exhaling heavily. The sound makes Lucas grins and he looks up just as Yann clicks his tongue, “You’re a hassle, Lallemant.”

 “What do you mean? I’m a delight to have around.”

Yann clocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed, “Listen, I know atleast one person who would greatly differ with your statement.”

Lucas sighs, plopping his head back on the pillow, “Yann, you and I both know that Eliott hates my guts, so.” He shrugs. It’s common knowledge now. And wasn’t Yann just lecturing him about giving Eliott to-

“I was talking about your cupid, actually,” Yann has a terrible looking thing crawling into the fibers of the cells constituting the skin Lucas so badly wants to punch right now. The corner of his lips hitch up a fraction before he gets up from his chair, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go out for a smoke,” Yann says, a smile crinkling his eyes, “You sit here and think about him, okay?”

He’s out the door in a second; the pillow Lucas throws at him landing on the ground after harshly colliding with the door.

Fucking assholes.

*

 cupidcollns@cupidint.com

Dear applicants,

Requests for the new sessions have been opened. Kindly take out the prints of your forms from cupidint.com. Please make sure to send in your requests to your designated Cupid before Friday. Any and all requests received after the deadline will be rejected.

Yours truly, Cupids

Lucas stares at the bright flashing and too depressing email displayed on the computer screen. There’s a dull throbbing behind his left eyebrow, his eyes are burning, and Yann still hasn’t returned with the food Lucas messaged him to get for him a few minutes after his departure.

His eyes move from the screen severely damaging his brain to the ugly yellow form Lucas keeps stashed in case of emergencies. His pen rests on top of in a bit slanted. Lucas hates the very sight of this form; apart of tree wasted for nothing. He remembers the many papers like this he sent many times before, and still end with fucking disappointment. What or who is to say this time won’t be the same.

With a dejected sigh he picks up the pen and presses the clicker. Might as well sign up for another disappointment. It is as he starts reading What would you pick to describe yourself as? Please pick one of the choices and is in the process to bang his head against the table cover over the answers that his phone pings with a notification. He unlocks the device, squinting at the light flooding his burning eyes. His stomach coils in on itself.

Eliott D 💩         

céline will be back on friday

so it’s your duty to dust the records till then

also, you draw terribly. thought i should let you know

Lucas stares at the words with a newfound hatred which now boils beneath his skin and rises up like a tide ready to consume all of him. But if that happens Lucas would so something extremely petty and stupid. Eliott won’t let him live, and besides, Lucas is above that. He turns his phone off, and with a bout of energy coming from somewhere inside him, underneath his sternum, he picks up the pen and, because he’s inspired, starts drawing penises everywhere there’s a blank for answers he’s supposed to write. The letter’s going to be rejected anyway; Lucas might as well go down with dignity.

This is it, Lucas thinks, when Cupid8776 finally gives up on him. Ha. Lucas would finally be free of their trap.

(And, because he’s inspired, he also takes a picture of the penis, lines them up with the various shots of the stick figures currently accumulating in his photo library, and sends them all to Eliott D (Poop Emoji). In response to his last message, Lucas provides: i don’t think i’m terrible. i’m getting better at drawing your portrait, see and presses send.)

Lucas folds the letter into an envelope and is on his way to mail it. And when Eliott replies back with a chain of messages including some very gruesome you are fucking annoying and extremely threatening crawl back to the whole YOU have come out of, psychopath somewhere between that, Lucas doesn’t feel any remorse.

Like he said, he’s above that.

[thorinthehottotty]

Dwemer or Dwarrow - Part 1

A/N: Based on semi-true events in my skyrim.

Summary: Thorin's found himself in skyrim. These are his adventures.

Warnings: cursing

"Honestly, I've always been told the Dwemer were extinct," you offer gently, not wanting to offend the small man.

"We are called Dwarrow where I'm from," he snarls through his perfect teeth.

"Dwarrow?" You repeat and nod. "Alright fair enough." You turn back to the fire, twisting the salmon on your spike slowly. It's an awkward silence for a long moment as he stews in his rage.

Finally, he breaks it. "What happened to make them go extinct here?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure. Dwemer- ah, er, Dwarrow ruins, don't sit well with me. Draugers I can handle, the damn machines are a pain in the ass to destroy."

"Machines?"

"Yeah. Your people are quite the craftsmen. Protecting their secrets even after their fall. I peeked at some crossbow schematics that I retrieved for an acquaintance back in the Dawnguard."

"Dawnguard?"

"Vampire hunters." Thorin sighs. In his world there were no such thing. His first occurrence with them enough to make him hate them like the folk of Skyrim.

"I'd like to visit some of these ruins," he admits. You give him a groan and a glare.

"I didn't sign up to be your tour guide, ya know," you puff out. In good conscious, you couldn't abandon him to that fate. "Whatever. I'll take you."

"Where is the capital for these ruins. We should start there." You wince at that.

"Ohhhh... About that..." You trail off, glare turning sheepish.

Thorin raises an eyebrow, preparing for your next words, but somehow, he was never prepared. Next you'd be telling him that the city had sunken into the Earth like a living fortress.

"I'm kind of wanted in Markarth, like... Really, really badly wanted."

"By the guard? Or those cultists that are after you? Or the Thalmor?" It was too hard for him to keep up with everyone who wanted you dead. It might be easier to list off the ones who were your friends. Between the shifty cat folk that often deal potent moonsugar potions and those uglier than normal elves, Thorin thinks he'll keel over from a heart attack before he gets home.

"The city guard, there was an... Incident."

With a sigh, Thorin lowers his head into his hand. He murmured something in his native tongue. "What's the bounty on you there?" When you didn't answer, Thorin glances to find your lips pursed as you focus on the fish cooking over the fire. "Y/N."

"Well... Something like... Ten thousand gold?" Thorin is baffled by this.

"TEN THOUSAND GOLD!? WHAT IN MAHAL'S NAME DID YOU DO? DEVOUR CHILDREN?"

"No!" You protest weakly, "it's a long story."

"Well, start telling it."

You give a whine and finally seem to decide your food is finished. "Alright. So the moment I enter the city gates, there is an inn and a two little shops. This man sweeps in out of no where, murders a woman, and then I kill him. People are going on about the Forsworn, hysterias breaking out, its a mess." Thorin settles in, knowing you're on your way for another dramatic rendition of your life. "This guy comes up and gives me this note that I 'dropped', obviously I didnt. It tells me to meet him at the Shrine. I get stopped on my way to meet him by this priest. We break into some abandoned house that's been used for something weird- aaaaaand that's not that important, I get it. Deadra, blah, blah, murder, blah, blah, I won the gods favor by beating this jackass priest screwing with his shrine, the works."

He hates to admit but he finds her stories pretty amusing. Even the dark ones.

"So turns out the city is corrupt. I got framed for murder. Befriended the Forsworn king and his enormous orc bodyguard in prison. Shivved a guy. Broke out of prison, accidently killed a guard. Then I had to kill a whole bunch of guards. And now everytime I go back my bounty goes up a lot."

"Why don't you pay your crimes off. You've got plenty of money."

"I was saving it for a house in Markarth, thank you." Thorin gives a groan of frustration.

"You have two houses already, just serve your time. Besides, how are you supposed to buy a house in a city you're wanted in?" She purses her lips at him, looking like she's debating smacking him. His 'tour guide' was his best hope for navigating this strange and dangerous world.

"If I go back, who's to say you're not going ot ruin into some dangerous ruins by yourself." The two of you glare each other down for a long moment. You emphasize your point by biting into your salmon.

Thorin debates for a moment. Despite everything, you'd proven yourself in many ways. A talented warrior, a good friend, and proved to be tender hearted. Truly you were a problem solver. He wasn't the only one you'd helped. He watched you give children homes, help perfect strangers and even stop to help farmers. You were always his best option. Yes, he wanted to go home as soon as possible, but getting there unscathed would be where his problem lie.

"I suppose your right. I'd really prefer not to go back to jail. Everyone wants to fight the dovakin, you know? Especially in prison." You laugh to yourself and he frowns.

"Dovakin?"

"You know... Dragonborn?" Thorin feels a deep sense of unease fill him at that title.

"I do not." You pulled a face, something akin to embarressment.

"You're not going to like this..." You nibble lightly on your salmon, avoiding his gaze. All he was imagining now was you birthing his child covered in scales. Did he say his? No. No, he did not. "So... I am the first one in centuries, but I have... dra...ood."

"Do not mumble." You wince and glance up at him.

"I have dragon blood."

"What does that mean?" He demands, glaring you down.

"I am born with the natural ability to shout." He'd heard that term before. He was unsure he understood it's full meaning. "The dragons have their own language. Each of their words give me the ability to do each of them. You could potentially learn them too but it takes years."

"So any new word you learn you gain magic automatically?"

"It's not so simple..." You turn fully toward him, looking ashamed. "I... I have to absorb a dragon soul for each word..." He watches you, unsure of how to react.

"Absorb?"

"I HAVE TO EAT A DRAGON SOUL OKAY? IT JUST KIND OF SUCKS INTO MY BODY LIKE LOUD LIGHT AND THEN I CAN DO SHIT OTHERS CAN'T!" Oh... That was... Different. Though he's more curious than angry now and his slow nod seems to relax you.

"Like what?" You sigh and stand up.

"This is the most basic I can show you. It's called unrelenting force," and you turn away, a deep breath in an then... You shout.

He can even see it, the edges glowing blue with magic. It's loud, like thunder clapping in his face and when it hits a dead tree the trunk breaks apart, the whole thing falls, crumbling down. He's awed, finding himself smiling.

He'd never been so attracted to anyone. Here you were, a dragon-soul-eating, prison-breaking, big hearted moron dressed in dragonbone armor and dear god was he falling in love with you.

"I normally don't shout for people, consider yourself lucky," you pout, dropping down onto your log and nibbling disinterestedly at your food.

"What other shouts do you have?"

Taglist: @tomisbaeholland @dabisburntnut @fizzyxcustard @queenofmankind @saviorsong @dumbassunderthemountain

[anxresi]

Chloe’s Last Straw

Synopsis: 

Chloe is guilty of many things in her life. But not this. Never this. So when her mother says something unforgivable to a person she'd usually consider an enemy, it's up to her to put things right. Grab your popcorn folks, and get ready for a roasting. Written for Blackout Tuesday.

..............................

Caline Bustier sighed in exasperation, wondering how her once promising career as an educator had stuck her with this… the most ill-disciplined, out-of-control bunch of students she’d ever had to guide since her formative years as a kindergarten coordinator.

But even those young rapscallions had some level of respect for their elders, whereas the current batch of alleged ‘maturer’ teens…

They couldn’t even raise their heads for role-call in the morning.

“Max! Stop playing with that flying toy this second ! Mylene, Ivan… you can kiss each other during recess! Return to your desks now ! Nathanael! Put down those pencils and listen to me! Lila, I know you said you suffer from ADHD, but until I see a doctor’s note, I expect you to respond immediately when I call your name! Honestly, it’s like trying to herd cats! And where on Earth are…”

“I’m here! I’m here!!” As if in answer to her request, Adrien Agreste bustled in just then, out-of-breath and apparently with a ready-made excuse to explain his absence. “Dawn fashion shoot… then piano recital… early morning practice… stop me falling behind. A-Apologies Miss Bustier… you know how it is with my father…”

“Hmm, yes… I’m afraid I do .” The frowning teacher gave an understanding nod, for Gabriel Agreste’s huge expectations for his son often led to constant late arrivals for his son. “I would say ‘try not to let it happen again’, but something tells me it’s out of my hands. Oh well, at least you haven’t missed any actual lesson time this week. Go and sit down, please. Now I wonder where…”

“ Argh ! S-Sorry Miss! Mom got sick… and usually she handles the morning deliveries… so I had to take a quick detour on my way here… and…” bang

At least, that’s the sound effect there would’ve been, if a stumbling Marinette Dupain-Cheng hadn’t been caught by Adrien on her inevitable descent to the floor. Right place, right time.

Still didn’t stop her blushing like a stoplight though.

“A-Adrien!! Gulp. H-Hi. ” The blunette gave a passable impression of a fish out of water.

“Hey there! F-Funny the places we run into each other, isn’t it?” Adrien seemed equally struck for what he wanted to say.

“ Ahem !” That was the sound of an impatient teacher, who obviously had no romance in her soul and was eager to restart the headcount. “If you two are quite finished with your impromptu act, you can save it for the talent show next month. Take your respective seats so we can get on. Wait…”

Glancing at Adrien And Marinette’s chairs had revealed something unprecedented in the recent history of this hallowed halls of education. In fact, so unbelievable was it, Miss Bustier had to rub her eyes twice just to make sure what she saw wasn’t just another product of her espresso-infused imagination.

For it would appear as though young Agreste and Dupain-Cheng, by some measure the most tardy pupils Caline Bustier had ever known, were not among the last ones to arrive that incredible day.

No, that dubious honor belonged to none other than the students the aforementioned pair shared a desk with, namely Nino Lahiffe and Alya Cesaire.

W-What the… the panicking teacher’s look of astonishment was completely forgivable, as both Marinette and Adrien made good their escape. I’ve never known anything like this to happen before. It’s most unlike them. I just hope they’re okay. Maybe, if they’re not here soon, I should ask the headmaster if…

Miss Bustier’s short soliloquy was interrupted by an unpleasant shrieking noise as a familiar pair strode in. The high-pitched noise made the hairs on her neck stand on end and shattered the formerly serene atmosphere of the classroom once and for all.

“ Dahling . You know I wouldn’t go back to New York without saying goodbye to my precious Coraline, don’t you sweetheart? I might be away for quite a while this time, even past Christmas, but you understand, right? If I’m not there to personally introduce my new range of spangly negligees to the world at Fashion Week, my competitors might steal my thunder! I might even be bumped off the front page of Vogue! And you remember what I’ve told you every day, since the blessed occasion you were born, whenever that was…”

“Yes, mother. ‘If you’re not somebody, then you’re nobody.’ I get it. But do you ‘get’: my name isn’t ‘Coraline’, it’s Chloe . Coraline is that so-called kids movie we saw years ago, the one that was so scary I nearly wet… you know what, n-never mind.”

The loud screech of Audrey Bourgeois’s voice was almost enough to give poor Miss Bustier a migraine, as if the prospect of trying to teach her disruptive daughter good manners wasn’t difficult enough. Why did this have to be the one day I forgot to bring my aspirin to class with me? Tell me, what did I do to deserve this? Did I walk under a ladder yesterday? Did I crack a mirror, or step on a gypsy’s foot by mistake? Please, if I am cursed for whatever reason, let me know how I can fix it. For the love of…

“Mrs Bourgeois! What an unple… u-unexpected pleasure!” The rapidly unraveling teacher put on her fakest, friendliest face to welcome the surprise guest. “How are you? When was the last time we met? I seem to recall it was at the salon…”

“What was that? Who is this strange person heckling me, dear?” Audrey pulled down her shades to stare closer, as Chloe whispered in her mom’s ear. “Oh yes, your public school educator. Still with the red hair I see, ugh . Yes, I remember… I told her to dye her roots blonde like me if she wanted a better job than the impossible task of instructing these degenerates. Because as we all know: ‘blondes have more fun’. Isn’t that right, Chlorine?”

Whether Chloe was still sore from Audrey getting her name wrong twice now, or just plain embarrassed by her female parent’s condescending behavior, who knows. She didn’t repeat her mother’s mantra again like last time though, and instead stood there nervously with her hands in her chino pockets, portraying quite an un-Chloe lack of confidence.

“Well anyway, if you simply must know Miss… Bustier, was it?” An uninterested Audrey inquired, proving the rumor true that her daughter’s name was the only one she regularly forgot. “I was just seeing my precious off, before catching the afternoon plane to uptown New York. It’s just wonderful there in the summer, with all the glitterati in attendance for the various functions. You really must try it, darling… oh sorry I forgot: on your meager salary, it might prove to be an impossible dream. Still, we can’t all be as ridiculously wealthy as me and my husband, can we?”

“Y-Yes, I suppose so.” Miss Bustier desperately kept her sentences as short as possible. She didn’t want the dreadful woman to stay there a second longer than absolutely necessary. “W-Well, I don’t want to keep you, if you have things you need to…”

“So, these are the local children you go to school with, dear?” Deciding she was tired with Miss Bustier’s ‘rambling’, a bored Audrey fixed a critical eye over the classroom. “Well, I must say, I’ve seen far better. A poor crop if ever there was one… why your father refused to let you be privately educated is beyond me. I suspect it’s because he wants to boost his election prospects by letting you ‘mingle with the common folk’, but is it really worth it? I hate to think the effect such distasteful surroundings must be having on your delicate young mind.”

Outraged gasps erupted from all around the room, and if Chloe could’ve jumped into a fifty-foot hole never to emerge, she likely would’ve done so with relish. Alas, this was not an option, and so once more the twitching girl was forced to deal with the consequences of her mother’s shameless arrogance and total lack of volume control.

But just as even the usually docile Miss Bustier was about to say something stronger to defend her visibly irritated students, the last two attendees emerged through the door, puffing and panting as they arrived at long last. Also noticeably, covered in what can only be described as black oil stains.

First up was Nino Lahiffe, who paused slightly to catch his breath and adjust his cap. Then came his girlfriend Alya Cesaire just behind, who despite being pretty exhausted herself, began to speak “N-Nino’s dad gave us a lift, but the car broke down. We had to help him fix it…”

Suddenly Audrey Bourgeois, obviously on a roll, glanced behind her with a pronounced sneer. Upon seeing the pair in question, her expression of disapproval grew even more pronounced…

And what she said next was truly shocking. Except, maybe not her.

“Who might these ‘people’ be, then? While I think it’s laudable you’ll let just about anyone into these types of schools Bustier, I hope you realize some individuals can’t be taught. Just look at those hopeless youths, for example. Obviously from a rough neighborhood, probably down to one parent each, deprived of everything to judge by their filthy clothing, and they can’t even be in class on time. Probably wasting their lives on the street listening to ‘wrap’ music, or whatever it’s called. As if this sort even need an education, in their future careers as minimum wage cleaners or drug-dealers. Really dear, you’d be better off kicking them out and investing in school uniforms instead…”

“ That’s enough !!”

Stunned faces all around. Jaws dropping to the floor. A few people on the verge of fainting, at the identity of the person who uttered those two screamed words.

It wasn’t Miss Bustier, who was prepared to declare her response by more physical means (a hard fist to the face of an unrepentant bigoted snob, if you must know).

Not Alya, who looked just about ready to burst into tears, being held by her apoplectic boyfriend  in his arms (otherwise, he might’ve formed an unstoppable tag-team with his teacher to kick some serious a**).

The surprise shouter was none other than Chloe Bourgeois, who having finally been pushed to her absolute limit at her mother’s complete lack of respect for anyone besides her own reflection, had finally snapped.

And boy, was it something to behold.

“Mom, as I’m sure anyone who isn’t you would agree, I’ve put up with a lot over the years. The insults. The dirty looks. Long absences. Always getting my name wrong. Never telling me you love me. Raising me to think ‘sacking’ anyone who disagrees with you is permissible behavior. I can tolerate all this and more, but there is one thing where I must draw the line. You want to know what that is?”

“ Must we get into this now, dear? You know I like first pick of the best VIP seats…” There Mrs Bourgeois went again, thinking this was just another conversation where she could brush off her daughter’s genuine concerns.

Well, in this case, she was about to get ‘schooled’ (pun not intended).

“Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. It’s racism Mom, plain and simple, and I won’t stand for it! Whatever problems I might’ve had with Alya and Nino in the past, and believe me there’s been plenty, I’ve never treated them differently due to the color of their skin! How shallow can you get?! And coming from me, this is the biggest of big deals!”

It was as if someone had lit a fuse underneath Audrey’s designer shoes, as the formerly unflappable woman suddenly recoiled in shock. “W-What… well I never ! How could you say such terrible things to me, Chlorophyll? Why, if you weren’t my own flesh and blood, I’d sue you on the spot! I’ll have you know, some of my best workers are blac…”

“Yeah, ‘workers’. You just made my point for me. That’s all they are to you, aren’t they? I’ve seen the way you treat them differently to even our other staff, calling them ‘tanned’ and ‘colored’ right to their faces. They don’t say anything because they don’t want to lose their jobs, and shamefully neither do I because frankly, you scare me sometimes. Well, that ends this second . The instant you behave that way again, I’ll be on you like a ton of bricks. Also, do you wanna know something else?”

“H-Huh?” Audrey’s demeanor had abruptly switched from coolness personified to utter confusion. Being called out so blatantly in front of a bunch of ‘underprivileged ragamuffins’ by her petulant child was not on the itinerary today.

“I’ll spoil it for you again. Father hates your attitude even more than I do! Whenever you finish treating the staff like the dirt under your feet, he goes to each one in turn to apologize personally. As well as give them a few extra euros that month, as if that’ll make up for the abuse they have to suffer. But look who I’m talking to! The woman who thinks Chinese and Japanese people are practically the same! And people wonder where I got such a stupid idea from…”

‘I-I…” For the first time in her life, Mrs Bourgeois was completely lost for words. All she could do was stare dumbly and numbly at her irrepressible daughter, as the young girl finished her extended lecture with a flourish.

“Finally, I suppose I should let you know about the head cook at our hotel. You know, the one who you think makes the best meals around for Daddy and his clients at short notice? Or when you have to entertain people, and she puts on a spread that’ll put any other caterer in the city to shame? That’s Mrs Cesaire, the mother of Alya over there. How do you think she’s going to feel, when she hears you racially insulted her daughter so terribly in front of her entire class? I don’t know, but if I were you I’d check my food for signs of saliva for a while. Also, put your lawyers on stand-by, because I think it may be heading for court. And if you want to know who’s side I’ll be on, here’s a clue…”

At this juncture, Chloe put her mouth to her now trembling mother’s ear to whisper sharply:

“...It won’t be yours!”

That was all it took for Mrs Audrey Bourgeois to collapse on the floor, in such a comatose state that not even the strongest smelling salts around could revive her in the foreseeable future.

...Not that anyone really wanted to do that, of course. Even the school nurse balked at helping someone who’d been so vile to the innocent students there. So, in an unconscious heap on the floor she stayed.

In the end, she missed her flight and the free expensive champagne on offer. Oh dear. How sad. Never mind.

As for Chloe, having said her piece and blithely sauntered over to her seat next to Sabrina afterwards, she was most surprised by the deafening cheer that subsequently erupted, as well as the much better treatment she got for an entire week afterwards by everyone present (even from Marinette).

As unusual as her newfound popularity was though…

She could quite easily get used to it.

If only she could master this whole ‘being nice’ thing.

..............................

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Remember everyone, having White Privilege isn’t just about paying lip service to the concerns of minorities and posting black squares and hashtags one Tuesday to show you care…

It’s about using your advantageous platform all year round to speak up to defend those in need, whoever they are. After all. if activism was just listening to others whilst doing precisely nothing to change the world outside the confines of social media, how are we gonna change the world?

Food for thought. Hope you enjoyed the story, which (I hope) got the point across well enough. Whatever you think, let me know… and thanks for reading! :)

[nad-zeta]

Match up 🌠

Ahhh your match ups are so thorough and well written I am in love! I'd like to get one for myself if I could bother you🌸 I also hope I'm doing this the right way otherwise I'm so sorry 😭💕

I'm 20, female, dark chestnut hair currently in a short bob/bangs, brown eyes which can sometimes look kinda brick colored, round glasses... I'm 168cm and more thin than curvy.

I'm an INFJ-T with an emphasis on the the turbulent. Kidding- but really I love alone time. I'm a very naturally nocturnal person, I love spending time with people in bursts but I usually can only handle being around calmer people for a longer time. When I'm alone I have a lot of passions I like to work on, studying Japanese, music composition, guitar, playing strategy games, drawing and writing... If I'm needing physical stuff I like to try and self teach choreography from videos when I can. Depression+anxiety have been known to get in the way of these passions for sure- but in the past years I've sought a lot of help+treatment and while I'm not a generally positive person internally- I'm alright 😌💕

When I am with people, I tend to try and be very bubbly and kind- most people know me as a very silly and caring person(but 100% scatterbrained, and a constant worrier- I would lose my head if it wasn't attached to my shoulders). I have a lot of trouble accepting any of that- but I have some very supportive people in my life banging it into my head... I am very easily flustered, and usually end up at the receiving end of teasing. I do pretend to dislike this, and I'm genuinely very flustered but truth be told- it's funny for everyone involved so I'm okay with it~ I do wish I didn't turn red in the face so easily though...

Worrier coming thru here... I don't know if this is too rambly or anything, feel free to let me know- but thank you so much for having these open and doing such great work with them. 💕

Hi, there love! Awwww you make me blush thanks so much for the kind words <3<3! I Hope you are doing well! Here is your long-awaited matchup! Sorry for taking soooooooooooo long..... Hope you enjoy it and have a good day!😊 💕

So I match you with……………. Mitsuhide

The night you saved Nobunaga from the fire; you ran for your life. After meeting Nobunaga and Hideyoshi, all you wanted to do were flee, and you did. You had run away so fast that you almost flung yourself of a cliff… Thank goodness for Yukimura! You were so startled and freaked out luckily there was a friendly face among all the unknowns, and that would be Sasuke. He explained the whole concept of time travel to you and asked if you would like to stay with him. You looked at the bunch of strange men, and they all looked fall less intimidating than the few you had met from the Oda forces. You smiled at Sasuke and gave him a small nod. And so you journeyed your way back to Kasugayama castle with the strange lot.

They were an odd bunch of men, but you had come to really love them and adopt them as your new brothers. The people of Kasugayama castle love your sweet, silly caring personality. You and Kenshin had especially hit it off due to your interests in strategy games. Kenshin had taken his role of overprotective brother very seriously. He will be the one to pull you out of banquets when he sees you getting tired from all the interaction. He is always there to help you and protect you whenever you are in trouble, and he would always send his army of bunnies to comfort you whenever you are feeling sad. 

One day you were out in the market shopping for some sake and sweet buns for the banquet that night. You were having a good relaxing time window shopping when some unusual music caught your attention. You followed the music and your eyes widened in awe when you saw a troop of dancers performing. You walked closer to get a better look, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the most beautiful man you had ever seen, perform a dance. The choreography and music were spot on and almost made you want to dance along to the music with them. You felt absolutely mesmerized watching the white-haired man dance. His eyes locked with you for a brief second and you could have sworn that he gave you the smallest of smiles before he looked away. When the show was over, you were going to congratulate the troop on a beautiful show, but there were way too many women swarming around the men, so you decided to rather make your way back home.

As you were walking back, the white-haired dancer ran up to you and grabbed your shoulder to stop you. “Little mouse it seems you have dropped your coin pouch”. Your eyes widened in horror; it must have fallen during the show, you profusely thanked the mysterious man. Mitsuhide was definitely intrigued by this little mouse he had stumbled upon. He started to tease you and was most amused by the way your face broke out into the most beautiful blush. The two of you had some tea together as a thank you for returning the coin pouch to you. Mitsuhide teased the shit out of you during the whole tea date, not that you minded you found that you really enjoyed his company. After tea, the two of you parted never to see each other again, you had to admit that thought made you feel a little sad on the inside. 

One day Yukimura and Sasuke announced that they were going to go to Azuchi to spy on the Oda forces. You low key wanted to go along for the adventure. Needless to say, it took some time to convince Kenshin to let you go, but he couldn’t say no to his dearest sister’s puppy dog eyes. You were so happy and excited that he agreed. You and Sasuke entered into Azuchi disguised as performers while Yuki went disguised as a merchant. You were super excited to be able to use your skills, bringing joy and smiles to all the people around you. You and Sasuke would put on a little performance every afternoon. You danced and played the guitar. And Sasuke performed a one-man play. 

As you were dancing during one of your performances, you saw a familiar face in the crowed smirking up at you. “My my little mouse, I never expected to stumble upon you this afternoon, much less witness your beautiful talent”. Mitsuhide invited you back to his Manor for some tea and card games. Which you really enjoyed considering you have been playing strategy and card games with Kenshin, so you definitely gave this sneki boi a run for his money. You really enjoyed the calm aura he gave off; you could talk to him for hours without feeling exhausted. You and Mitsuhide landed up staying up all night chatting and laughing, he was low key surprised when he looked out the window to see the sun almost rising. “aren’t you tired little one”. “Nope, I’m just naturally nocturnal, plus it's in the peace of the night when I get the most work done”. He simply smiled his kitsune like smile at you and offered to walk you back home. On your way home, the two of you stopped and sat down on a park bench watching the sunrise together. The two of you spent a lot of time together after that night. Both of you would always “coincidentally” run into each other all the time and land up hanging out for hours.

Mitsuhide both loved and was concerned for your scattered brain clumsiness. He would constantly worry about you when you weren’t near him. He could swear you would lose your head if it weren’t attached to your shoulders. Whenever the two of you are together, he would insist on holding your hand “can’t let my dearest mouse get lost now, can I”. TBH at this point, Mitsuhide was madly in love with you, he loved your sweet, caring nature. He loves how you could talk his ears off for hours. He also really loves the small doodles you draw on the napkins in the various teahouses the two of you have been to.

He knew you were close with the people in Kasugayama, but he couldn’t help but be attracted to you and feel the need to make you his. One day Yukimura announced that the three of you had been summoned back to Kasugayama, you were honestly so deflated. You had just fallen in love with Mitsuhide, and now you had to go back home. You sat with Mitsu in his manor the day before your departure. He could tell that something had been on your mind. You had told him EVERYTHING. Honestly, he knew of your connections to Kenshin, but he was truly shook when you mentioned that you were from the future. You had also told him that you honestly didn’t want to leave just yet. Little did you know this fox was ten steps ahead of you and had already plotted a plan.

When you said goodbye, Mitsuhide sent you off with the sweetest smile and a small kisses on the forehead, nose and finally lips and promised to see you again soon. 

You were back in Kasugayama’s garden playing with the sweet army of bunnies when a small fox appeared carrying a letter. IT WAS FROM MITSU! He had said that we would see you soon. Little did you know the sly fox was in a meeting that very moment with the god of war. They had come to an agreement that Mitsu was allowed to see you, but if he ever hurt you, or if he causes you any tears, Kenshin would hunt Mitsu down and kill him. Mitsu smiled his fox smile and agreed. You were summoned to your brother’s room and boy oh boy were you confused when you saw Mitsuhide sitting there, without Kenshin having a sword at his throat threatening him. Kenshin asked if you loved the fox and when you replied with a small nod. He smiled at you and gave you his blessing. You couldn’t help but ran up to Kenshin and gave him the biggest bear hug thanking him. The second part of the agreement was that the two of you were to attend a farewell banquet for you that night.

The next morning you were off with Mitsu to start your new life together. The Oda forces welcomed you with opened arms. Finally, someone to keep their resident kitsune in check. Mitsu loved you so much and spent every second of everyday showering you with affection. He would always be there for you, especially when you were feeling anxious or insecure. He would wrap you up in his warm arms while soothingly stroking your silky hair. He would whisper words of reassurance in your ears to help ease the anxiety. Your favourite place in the world would be in is his arms. You love how Mitsu even respects your alone time, giving you some space when he sees that you need some time to recharge on his own

The two of you can often be found spending time together, whether it is just the two silently sitting in his room, enjoying each other presence or time spent cuddled in each other’s arms. One thing is for sure, and that is you are truly happy with the sweet kitsune and that you had found your new home

Other potential matches.................... Kenshin

Hope, you enjoyed it, love!  💕@tsuki-no-usagiii

[liilyjane]

❛ her mother told her she could grow up to be anything she wanted be, so she grew up to become the strongest of the strong, the strangest of the strange, the wildest of the wild, the wolf leading wolves. ❜

cis woman / she/her. ┊ if you’re looking for LILY EVANS, you’ll probably find HER in the GRYFFINDOR dorm with the rest of the SEVENTH years. they’re the TWENTY year old MUGGLEBORN who looks kind of like KENNEDY MCMANN. they seem DYNAMIC, HEADSTRONG & EMPATHETIC to me, but apparently they’re also DOMINEERING, POSSESSIVE & MORALLY ABSOLUTIST maybe that’s why they remind me of the sweet smell of rain after a storm, heart shaped cookies burning in an oven, promising forever only to be met with the end of the world, initials carved into trees that you wish would burn, smudged eyeliner, stacks and stacks of unread books.

links: stats, pinterest character parallels: jane villanueva (jane the virgin), claire randall (outlander), amy santiago (brooklyn nine-nine), erin (derry girls), donna pinciotti (that ‘70s show), shirley crain (the haunting of hill house)

the evans family, circa 1960 — practically perfect in every way. xavier evans was rising in the ranks of his job as a bank teller; petunia evans had recently learned how to walk and spent most of her time prancing around the small cokeworth estate; and annabelle evans had just given birth to the most beautiful baby girl, lily. nothing here could possibly go wrong.

and for the longest time, nothing did. little lily grew up in a household full of smiles, forming a particularly strong bond with her older sister and learning to love only in the largest of doses. for five years, the evans family were so picture perfect you might have even thought it fake, but no amount of love could ever be pretend with this small bunch - they simply knew that happiness was around every corner and chased it with all the childlike optimism the world had to offer.

it was once lily turned five that things took a turn for the worse. the little toddlers happiness and excitement could no longer be contained in such a small body and so instead decided to lash out on the house. beds floating, cats hurtling across the room, the bushes out the front blooming with red in the middle of winter. the simple and mundane had suddenly become anything but - lily jane evans was a witch.

but of course, that wouldn’t be explained for at least another three years. from the ages of five to eight, xavier and annabelle liked to believe that it was miracles that followed their beautiful baby girl. petunia, however, was not so forgiving. she feared for what her freak of a sister was capable of, but for the most part, she kept her fears to herself. her sister was still her sister, after all, and she would still try her best to love her as before.

it was in the summer of 1968 that lily first met severus snape - an odd little boy from the bad side of town, as petunia liked to call him. lily simply preferred to call him her best friend. lily and severus got on like a house on fire for the simple fact that severus seemed to be the only one who truly understood her. it was severus that first explained to lily what she truly was, and lily wholeheartedly believed him. petunia, of course, was furious for how the greasy little boy drove a wedge between her and her sister and was even more horrified to learn of what he was telling her - no one could do magic. not really. lily and severus were simple freaks.

the first time petunia called lily a freak, lily cried herself to sleep. what could possibly drive her sister, one of her closest friends, to say such a thing? she wasn’t lying. she really could do magic, and it was beautiful. and yet petunia refused to believe it, and for that, lily was devastated. all she wanted was to share her gifts with her sister and instead her gifts were exactly what drove them apart.

lily always lived to regret how she handled this gradual separation. her fervent heart turned quickly from love to anger, furious that petunia refused to share this gift with her, but of course she should’ve realised that it was still enough to love without magic getting in the way. she feels as though she shoved her magic in her sisters face and that is why petunia hates her, and if she could go back in time and pretend magic was nothing all for the sake of the sister, perhaps she would.

when a strange owl dropped a letter on the evans’ front door step explaining that magic really was real, lily couldn’t really say she was surprised. after all, sev had told her this day would come. she was over and done with the surprise and confusion and was now able to be wholly and completely ecstatic for her start at school.

what she didn’t expect, however, was to be torn away from her best friend on the first day. severus had explained the house system to her before, and she’d always wished to be in the house of the ferocious lions, she just hadn’t realised how polarising it would be to be a lion and to love a snake. for a while, she was seen once again as a freak, this time by her peers, and this time for many reasons: one, for fraternizing with the enemy, and two, for being a muggleborn.

just as when she had been called a freak the first time, lily cried when she was first called a mudblood. where had she gone wrong? severus had described hogwarts as somewhere magical, somewhere inviting, a home away from home, and yet here she was just as equally criticized, ostracized, and bullied as back at cokeworth. severus ended up being her only friend for months as she tried to find a way to fit in, and a part of her almost resented him for that.

but of course, lily jane evans is not just going to sit back and accept a terrible fate. lily jane evans is a fighter, first and foremost. lily jane evans fought tooth and nail to be accepted within hogwarts, to be loved and, most of all, to be respected. and it didn’t take long for this to come true. lily was bright and cheery and had all the boisterous enthusiasm of her housemates, and for that reason she finally found friends outside of severus.

slowly, these friends became her best. they surpassed that of her sister, that of severus, and became her main priority. severus was not forgotten, of course, though perhaps he liked to act like he was. lily tried to keep their friendship alight for the first few years, but it was far too clear in this context that lily evans and severus snape were from two different worlds - they didn’t fit. they drifted and drifted until fifth year came - and everything came crashing down.

hearing severus call her a mudblood was not just heartbreaking, it was blood boiling. lily thought that she could trust this boy, this friend who had been there for her since she was eight, but that clearly wasn’t the case. he was done with her, and she was more than done with him.

after this incident, lily became a lot less trusting of people’s intentions. there was a tension bubbling in this exciting and mystical world she was now a part of and some people were always going to be on the wrong side - and she might not even know it. and so she was cautious, she chose her friends carefully, she learned how to let go. things were only going to get tougher.

proving herself tough and intelligent and a true leader at hogwarts, lily has been awarded the title of head girl in her last year, a role she takes very seriously despite some of her misdemeanours in previous years (punching someone for calling you a mudblood shouldn’t give you detention, anyway). she pushes herself hard in her final year, some would say to the brink, but she has a purpose now - the tensions are boiling over and she is about to be thrust into the real world, where life is no longer so protected...

MISCELLANEOUS

lily has a very black and white way of looking at the world. to her, there is good and there is bad, and you choose which one you are. a good example of this is what happened with severus - for the whole time she’d known him, lily had thought severus to be a good person, no matter his house or his limited supply of friends. he might’ve been odd but he was good, but the moment he called her a mudblood, something in her switched, and severus was bad. she went from trying to talk to him every day to never talking to him again, from viewing him as her best friend even in the toughest of situations to her worst enemy. lily feels everything very strongly (love, hate, anger etc.) and this only feeds this somewhat toxic way of thinking. basically - don’t cross lily. she will write you off in a second.

the only exception to this rule is petunia dursley - push and push and push enough and lily understands that petunia is not wholly good, but she cannot bring herself to say her sister is wholly bad either. lily wasn’t invited to her sisters wedding, she hasn’t even so much as met vernon yet because petunia refuses to see her, and yet still lily would drop everything if it meant she could spend the day with her sister. it’s very complicated. yikes!

another note: lily starts to move away from this type of thinking when she gets closer to james and realises that maybe her impressions of people are wrong but... we have to wait and see that one out, don’t we!

lily loves baking. no, she is not good at it.

lily taught herself how to cast a patronus last year, but she tends to keep this information to herself. she knows she is strong and talented, but she doesn’t feel the need to show it off.

[kisskissbanggang]

OKAY Nothing to see here, this is me sobbing all over and responding to some feedback my darling @starxblossom has snuck into my submissions SO DON’T MIND ME I’M HAVING A MOMENT

tl;dr : you are talented

It’s bizarre how bizarre it is to read this sentiment. Let me set the scene for you: I had an awful end to my day yesterday where I had a forest fire to put out on my desk before I left the office and left a bunch of work behind. I woke up this morning, almost cried over your message in my box, and it helped me feel energized enough to go into the office for the morning when I wasn’t scheduled to do so and finish my leftover work. I had a particularly awful development during this morning where I went to the office and didn’t need to, and I came home feeling like a pile of dirt, cooking in the hot summer sun. So I needed this when I read it again and could read it more in-depth. 

To be perfectly candid, I would really go so far as to say that you’ve played your best cards yet in writing The Sabotage of Simkung House. It’s everything I’ve loved you for, and so, so much more. I mean, complex yet realistic main character? Yes. Interesting and well-fleshed out reality? Yes. Smut scenes that makes me squeeze my legs shut? Yes I mean what, I didn’t say anything. And a delicious collection of characters with such vivid personalities that I, well and truly, understand them as real people? Yes. TSOSH is a masterclass in not only writing an interesting and very original take on the smut genre, but also a thrilling read from start to finish. 

This sentiment by itself floors me. I had meant for TSOSH to be an easy and indulgent thing to crank out with a bit of a complicated plot thrown in to keep me on my toes, but I never meant for it to be deep. I never meant for it to feel either grounded or grand. I hate to think I’m propping myself up here, but this was another thing that was supposed to be dumb. I think that means I found something I like doing, that it feels like something I can just throw myself into and it feels easy.

Between this, Prowl, and those untitled assassins!Stray Kids drabbles series, I’m really excited to see you dive deeper into the thriller genre. You have a real knack for it, for making me nervous, and tense, and sitting at the edge of my seat, screaming at my screen. Perhaps I should have picked up the subtle tendencies towards thrillers in your older works, perhaps even the art of writing smut is a thriller in itself, but you have such a wonderful control over your scenes, especially when it’s right in the action, in the moment. The picture is vivid, breathing life into sentences as the reader falls into the worlds you’ve created. 

This is also hilarious to me in a cosmic way. The scripts I had put down when I truly quit writing were a heist comedy based on my time delivering pizzas, and a sci-fi adventure, both with thick thriller elements. I like exciting movies, I like exciting books, I like exciting music and art, so I suppose it jives with the lore here that I enjoy writing exciting material as well. The pervasive emotion in all my memories is tension. It’s what makes rollercoasters and first kisses fun.

I don’t know if there’s anything I didn’t immediately love with TSOSH. I think the idea itself felt so original that it was hard to analyse it, given that I have nothing to really compare it to. That sounds mean, but I simply mean that I’ve never seen this type of story done before, therefore I don’t know if there’s a right or wrong way to write this kind of plot. My only non-complaint might be that I wished it was longer, if only so we could spend more time with the other characters. I feel like there were characters whom I felt like I knew better than the others, whose stories and motivations were clearer than the other characters; but honestly this is a light complaint, given that the story is meant to be fast-paced, and there were really only two or three characters integral to the story.  

I think this is where I was first convinced this idea was truly dumb and over-indulgent, honestly. It is a funky-ass plot, honestly, and I don’t mean that in a self-aggrandizing way. But I have always been a huge supporter and advocate for sex work, and have been fascinated with more socially repressive cultures when it comes to sex (having been raised Catholic but not Too Catholic by pretty modern Gen X parents.) Sex vlogs and shows have been a growing market in the past twenty or so years, and I think the ethics surrounding that is wacky as hell. I wish it were longer already, too. I keep humoring ideas of a post-mortem or epilogue or even a sequel (I think I set up Too Many threads alluding to this desire) but my number one fear is not letting go of my babies. I had wanted to dig into where all the boys got casted from (which I got to touch on with Jisung and Hyunjin, at least), or get into more Felix antics, or, you know, more of Noesengnam House and how different it is to film both shows, but I couldn’t find space in the pacing. 

I’m honestly so impressed by TSOSH. I was really lost in this world, I was invested in every aspect, in the emotional stakes, in the competition, in the show, in the entire mystery itself. I even skipped the warning tags each time because I didn’t want to spoil anything for myself [which is bad, I know. But I trust your stories. You’ve never thrown anything that I couldn’t handle]. When I tell you that I screamed, I literally screamed; usually into a pillow, so as to no alarm anyone nearby. When I tell you that I threw my laptop out the window - well, okay I didn’t do that one, but I almost did !! I’m rarely ever so sucked into a story as this one, but you really had my heart racing. I even caught myself reading lines out loud while laughing because it amused me so much. 

This is so unbelievably humbling to read. I’m so engrossed in this because I’ve been there, I’ve done those things, I’ve had those reactions myself, but to be on the receiving end of a reaction like that is something I never thought I’d experience. It makes me greedy, wanting to pick apart your top moments or what lines you found yourself reading out loud, but I know just like I write for free, you support for free and I’m just grateful that I have your friendship.

In my humble opinion, this has got to be your best work so far. You are honestly so talented, and you only continue to improve with every new piece you upload. Love you Queen ❤️

You make me want to create more great work. You make me want to one-up myself and that’s an exhilarating feeling. I appreciate you, I treasure you, I adore you because you do make me reflect on my own work as a whole. I love you, Queen. ❤️

[isaacwg-blog]

Smith didn't realize that

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[amintyworld]

Inconveniences - Sanders Sides Oneshot

A/N: This is for @an-agender-disaster 's Sanders Sides Fic Contest. Please go check them out, and if you like this fic go and give it a vote! Love all of you! -Minty

Summary: Roman sacrifices everything to save a stranger.

TW: Cursing, Bullying, Fighting, Blood, Pressure, Yelling, Caps, abuse of power

----------

Logan and Virgil were best friends. A fact that seemed unbelievable to the students of Sanders High. One was dark, mysterious, paranoid to flinch at a single touch. The other? A classical nerd who memorized more facts than a search engine.

The two outcasts were known throughout their grade for their so to say 'weirdness'. Virgil, though desperately trying to fit in, was a natural outcast. He was extremely awkward, especially in social interaction, a fact that the more popular students quickly took notice of. Logan was what Virgil called 'naturally smart'. The 16 year old could recite 150 digits of pi and the entire table of elements without breaking a sweat. It was no doubt the two would eventually found a friendship, a strong one at that.

They didn't have many friends, but...they had each other. And really, when bullying becomes a daily issue, a friend is all you need.

"So Specs," Virgil asked as they were walking through the hall toward their next class, "what was the probability again?"

Logan pushed his glasses that started to slide down his nose as he processed the question, remembering almost instantly. He smiled for the first time that week, facing his friend as he answered. "Of us meeting?" Virgil nodded. "That's nearly impossible odds, Virgil."

"Impossible odds…" Virgil breathed, listening to his friend rant about probability, and percentages. He sat down, sighing, closing his eyes briefly, just to relax. Virgil wouldn't admit it, but he loved just to sit and listen to his best friend explain any topic, there was some kind of comfort to it that Virgil couldn't explain.

For a small amount of time that day, Virgil wasn't nervous, or anxious. All the possibilities of what could go wrong stopped running through his mind. 

"Impossible...odds…"

He was just a regular high school student.

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

"GO ROMAN, GO, GO, GO, ROMAN!" Patton cheered from the sidelines. He was early for his cheer practice afterschool, so he figured he could fit in extra practice. He and Roman had been best friends since middle school, when Roman was the new kid, he'd recently moved from New York. Since then, they'd been practically inseparable.

Coach blew his whistle, and Roman ran back to the benches nearby, chugging water and running his hands through his sweaty hair. Coach gave him a stern look. "Take a break, Prince." Roman just nodded, catching his breath. Coach turned quickly, "Demenga! Sub for Prince! Come on, you pansies, on the field, NOW!"

Roman grabbed a second water bottle and sat down on the bleachers next to Patton. "Hey, you alright, Ro?" Patton asked. "You look… horrible."

"Well, despite what my father believes, I'm not made for football." Roman sighed. Patton gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You could always quit, I'm sure your father would-"

"You know what he'd say." Roman said. "Either UCLA, or nothing."

"I know," Patton said defeatedly. "I just hate to see you so... miserable."

"Well," Roman smiled. "Not completely miserable. I get to see you practice, at least. Who knew you had such a talent with pom-poms?"

Patton smiled. "I wouldn't have known if it weren't for you joining the team, Ro."

"Please Patton," Roman joked, smiling at his cheery friend. "You'd be a cheerleader anyway, it was only about making it official."

"You know me too well, Roman. How's Remus doing, by the way?"

"Absolutely loving his biochemistry classes," Roman said, wrinkling his nose at the thought. "...maybe a little TOO much." He shivered, wishing he could erase all the grotesque things Remus had sent him via text since the start of the year.

"But Roman, it's so cool! Look at it twitch!" Remus insisted when he shared a video of a rat dissection that nearly made Roman hurl.

He'd never admit it, but he wished he was the younger twin. Free to pursue anything he pleased, instead of having your entire life planned out for you from the first moment of your existence. God, how he craved to reprise his spark for Theater, one that his father tried so badly to put out completely, though Roman never truly lost the passion.

As he put it, it was in his blood.

Patton's parents, or parent, rather, were completely different from Roman's. Almost as full of sunshine as Patton himself, Mr. Foster was quite a role model for the young boy. 'Superdad' handled two jobs and three kids without breaking a sweat, and he was more than happy to let Roman into their close-knit family.

He showed Roman all of his kids' baby photos, smiling and cooing over how tiny baby Patton was, making Patton flush with embarrassment: "Daaaaaad!"

Patton, you could say, was the second parent of the family, cooking meals, helping with homework, keeping an eye on his younger siblings while maintaining a 3.5 GPA.

"I'm gonna go wash up, Dad will be here soon anyway, and he hates when I'm not exactly on time, you know." Roman said, grabbing his duffel and heading to the showers. "Be back in a few, Pat!"

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

"OH MY GOD, STOP IT!" Virgil screamed, trying to restrain the stronger teen as he easily slammed his best friend's face into the concrete wall. Richard turned, throwing Logan to the floor, his face busted and bleeding, his glasses snapped in half on the ground.

"What exactly are you going to do to stop me, Scaredy Cat?" Richard said, a smirk spreading across his lips.

"I...I'm...I'm gonna...I…"

Within seconds, his body was slammed on the concrete wall. He let out a scream of pain, Richard clamping his hand over Virgil's mouth quickly, nearly gagging him, Virgil struggling to breathe. "You're gonna do WHAT?" Richard said. "You are WEAK. You are POWERLESS. You...you're NOTHING, nothing but a wimpy dimpy Scaredy Cat." With that, he dropped Virgil onto the dirt, but he knew he wasn't going to get up.

He'd done his damage just right.

Tears fell from Virgil's eyes as the words cut him like a knife. He was right. He couldn't do anything, he couldn't even save his best friend. His hands gripped the dirt as tears fell, soaking the ground underneath him.

How absolutely PATHETIC was he?!

Richard laughed at the pain visible on their faces. "You two are nothing but a bunch of losers. Do you know what we do, with losers?" He couldn't help laughing as he asked. His father the mayor, Richard was power-hungry from the start. He ruled this school, this town, and no one, absolutely NO ONE, was going to say otherwise. 

As King, he had a duty to himself, and to everyone, to put these… these pigs, right in their place.

Virgil's heart nearly dropped. He knew what was coming next. Worse, he knew he couldn't fight back. He looked at Logan, who fell unconscious, bleeding. No one was around. No one ever was around when he did this.

"We… we kill losers."

Richard grabbed Virgil by the neck, Virgil no match for his size, lifting him off the ground, against the wall. He grinned, squeezing his neck. "Fat pig…" He breathed, sending chills down Virgil's spine. Virgil clenched his eyes tight, fearing he would cry if he opened them. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He didn't deserve to get what he wanted. He felt his hot breath on his face, his mouth getting closer. 

The world began to spin, almost getting darker. He started to choke in his grasp, gasping for air, for any breath. He didn't say a word, didn't fight back. He knew he'd just wind up back here, with his world dizzing, just like Richard wanted.

"Richard, what are you DOING?!"

Richard quickly dropped him, Virgil's world slowly coming back to focus, breathing heavily to get air back into his lungs.

"Ah, my old friend! I thought you had practice." Richard said, maybe a little too cheery.

"It's nearly over…" Roman trailed off, looking at the two students on the floor, then back to Richard. "What are you… you… you hurt them…"

Richard set a hardened glare on Roman. "It would be in your best interests, Roman, to not get in the way of the King." He smirked. "I'm sure your father would love to know all about your movie stash."

Roman's eyes widened. "How did you know about-!?"

His movies, hidden underneath his bed - the only thing left of the old days. Days when there wasn't a legacy, there wasn't football. When his father didn't care what he did, and… he was, well, happy. Happy to just have Roman.

Before, well… Roman went to high school.

"I have my ways. Now, back off, Prince. Let your King do his work."

Roman gulped, hesitating. He knew Richard picked on them, but this was too far. He made up his mind quickly, silently saying goodbye to all his DVDs. He raised his fists, getting into a defensive position almost instantly. "I...I won't let you hurt them."

Richard sighed. "Shame you had to turn on your people, Roman. You better believe that now, you're just like them. You're a weirdo, an outcast."

"You have no right to just go around saying whatever you want-"

Richard's face turned bright red with anger. "I OWN YOU."

Silence fell. Roman slowly walked over. Richard looked to him, something indescribable in his eyes. "You don't own me. At least, not anymore."

Roman stepped back as the sting of sliced flesh zipped through his body. He looked down, and there, clear as day, was a thin, bloodred line that ripped his football practice shirt straight across the middle. He knew what was going to happen when he got home, but at this point - Roman didn't care. His instincts from New York kicked in as he tackled Richard to the ground, holding the hand clutching the knife firmly behind his back. "Drop it." He growled, and the small pocket knife fell to the ground with a small clink. 

Roman kicked it a good ten feet away before dragging Richard up from the ground, leaning close to his ear, making sure the next words out of his mouth stuck. "Don't you DARE even so much as think about hurting another person, or I won't be so nice next time." He growled angrily. He let the boy go, pushing him away, and Richard looked back for a moment, mostly in shock, before seemingly shoving his hands in his pockets and trudging toward the road. 

Roman sighed, the adrenaline wearing off, realizing what he'd done. His father will kill him, disown him, if he isn't expelled from school first and kicked from the team.

But you know what? Roman thought, rushing back to find Patton (who was a certified first aid), Eff it.

[cmlopezofficial]

congratulations || self-para

WHERE: Kingsboro, New York; Cleo’s Penthouse

WHEN: After the Allie baby announcement.

TIME: The afternoon.

WARNINGS: Angst, a lot of fucking angst you guys. And it’s really long. Maybe add /mobile at the end of the site address to read it better, because OOF this got long. Drinking, depressing thoughts, abuse mention, escorting/prostitution mention, racism mention, and suicidal thoughts.

CHARACTER FEATURES: Cleo Lopez

CHARACTER MENTIONS: A lot of character mentions tbh

PROMPT: Cleo’s reaction to learning her ex-boyfriend and his girlfriend are pregnant and a bunch of other thoughts over the past ten years coming back to her.

At first, today had seemed to be a pretty good day. Cleo was working from home today on a couple of paperwork involving the sanctuary and so far, she was almost done. She’d noticed her phone going off due to the group chat. The blonde rolled her eyes at first, not interested in the education debate happening again. Education should be a right for everyone; not a privilege for a few select few. That was her two cents on that. However, she was starting to grow annoyed with the blinking screen- and curious. Groaning, she finally grabbed it and began to read through that chat.

This most certainly was not a continuation about education and college.

Cleo froze, eyes widening and heart stopping at the chorus of ‘congratulations’ appeared on the screen. Congratulations to Ellie... to Allister... aunt... first trimester... “O-Oh my gods,” she breathed out, the woman’s body shaking. A baby. An actual, little baby. Allister was going to become a father... again. Only this time, he knew ahead of time. Only this time, he got to be excited. Only this time, he’s going to get to be there. Only this time, he wasn’t denied the privilege of being a father.

The woman slowly scrolled and squawked out quietly at Avery’s question. Moving in together?! No... well, yes... but gods, their relationship was still new, right? Surely they’ll wait until a few more months... maybe once the baby’s closer to being born... She was a damn fucking fool. A couple of weeks. They’ve been living together for a couple of weeks. They’re having a baby together... They’re living together... What next? Are they going to get fucking married soon?! Are they secretly already married?! That thought caused her hand to raise up and clasp over her mouth, eyes growing blurry with tears. 

Quickly getting up from her desk, she moved the sliding door connected to her bedroom, quickly locking any and all doors. She could hardly breathe and her body was shaking while her thoughts ran wild. That was her dream. That had been her fucking dream when they were young and “in love”: a life together. They would live together... They would get married... They would have children... They’d run the furniture business... For three years, that had been her dream. Cleo had spent her entire life dreaming of becoming a marine biologist, of returning to Hawai’i and live a happy life there. Then she met Allister Jackson... she fell in love with Allister Jackson... And she changed her entire life’s dream for a new one for Allister Jackson. Did he ask her to? No, she did so voluntarily. But for the longest time there, it had seemed like that was their plan together. That that was what they both wanted. For so long, it seemed that way.

Rummaging through her liquor cabinet, she grabbed a new bottle of rum. She uncapped and drank straight from the bottle. Nose scrunching and throat burning, she drank and drank and her thoughts went wild.

He broke up with her. He was going through a hard time with his depression, something she didn’t know but would’ve been supportive and helped him anyways with it, and broke up with her. Cleo never really took the time to grieve properly. Never took the time to lie in bed, wallowing and shedding tears over the man she believed to be the love of her life. No, she thought he didn’t want her in Nashville anymore and she couldn’t handle the idea of going around that fucking city and being reminded of him and the heartbreak. So she quickly worked on getting transferred to the West Coast at UCLA, got two jobs, and found a trailer home with two other roommates. 

And then, she moved. Was going to spend the next month getting ready and situated in Los Angeles before finally allowing herself to finally deal with her heartbreak. But instead, she found out about Cordelia. And once again, there was no time to cry. There was no time to shed her tears over the love of her life breaking her heart. No, she needed to figure out how to go through with this pregnancy- and how the fuck to tell the father. The very man who broke her heat, or more like shattered it. She was twenty. She was twenty and confused and fucking, gods damned scared. She tried to tell him. Fucking hell, she spent the first almost five years trying to tell him. Then she met Nicola and believed that maybe this was for the best. Maybe he was never meant to find out, and that fucking hurt. She wanted him to be in his daughter’s life so much. But her thoughts were wild and she wasn’t sure how things would be if she saw him again. If she re-experience that heartbreak again.

That, and she was busy. She was so fucking busy. She needed to raise Dela while she was deaf and trying to learn sign language. She had school, needing to graduate. She was living with two roommates, who both had their own shit. She was working two- no, three- fuck, now four-... eight weeks after giving birth to Cordelia, she got her fifth job. At first, prostitution. Then, she was able to make her way to escorting for some of the very rich and powerful scumbags of Hollywood. They did and say whatever they want with her and she gets paid mighty fine good money- along with keeping her mouth fucking shut. All she had to do was take their abuse and racism and the acts they believed to be “sex” while never telling another single soul about this... And she’d be able to provide for her daughter and for herself, finally pay off that mighty fine college bill.

She wrote letters. Twice a month for almost five years, she wrote letters to Allister. Talking about Cordelia, about what was going on in her life and the escorting, about her restaurant that’s going nowhere, and just... begging for him to come to LA. To come and take her and their daughter away, to please forgive her and please, please, please know and realize that she loves him... and she’s so sorry... and she meant to send the last letter and this time, this time, she was going to send them all to him. And she never did. She never sent those letters... Amphitrite’s Cove took off and become a successful chain... she quit all of her other jobs and bought an actual house for her and Dela... once she was becoming well-know and rich, she made an agreement with those assholes that if they say nothing, she’ll say nothing, and all is well... She eventually met Nicola and then spent the past four years in almost a relationship until Marissa showed up and finally, finally, a relationship between the three started... Dela adores Nic and Riss and refers to them as her mothers... She’s rich, famous, loved by so many people... She is a philanthropist and has done so much work concerning the environment, homelessness, poverty, advocating for sex workers, advocating for single parents, advocating for disability rights, and so much more... She has a sanctuary opening in Kingsboro in December... She has everything she could ever want and needed.

But she isn’t enough.

Gods... She wasn’t enough for Allister, right? She wasn’t enough for her first love, eventually going off and finding some girl who would’ve been learning cursive when they were suppose be getting ready to spend the rest of their lives together. She wasn’t enough for him and now, he was going to be living her once new dream with said girl.

She’s not enough for Nicola and Marissa. They are truly the most incredible, loving, intelligent, beautiful women she’s ever met, and so much more. They’re both so strong and wonderful. Both were broken by the deaths of the women they loved and yet, they’ve both powered through. Gods, she does not posses a single amount of strength in her entire body the way they did. They held more strength in their pinkies than Cleo did within her entire being. They deserved each other... To only be with each other. But what if they wanted Natalia and Zane to be within that? What they’re enough for them and not her? What if she loses them and the new dream she’s been creating for them like she did for Allister?

She’s not enough for Cordelia. Gods, Dela... Her little minnow. Her brave girl, who is so talented and wonderful and too smart for her own good. Who was a star on the soccer field, knew two different sign languages, knew the names of all the current known marine creatures, knew woodwork, and charmed those she trusted. Cleo is so, so blessed and lucky and honored and proud to be her mother. There was truly no one else like Dela. And now... She’s suppose to be an older sister. Fuck, how does she tell her? She is adamant that she wanted nothing to do with her biological father; How does she tell her that the man she refuses to see, is going to have a child with his girlfriend? Is going to be giving her a little sibling? How does she tell her?

Gods fucking dammit, she wasn’t enough for her friends. She wasn’t enough for her business. Has all of this been for show? The charity work, the sanctuary, the image of being a powerful single mother when truly, she is nothing? Allister said that the shit she went through, she did that to herself. She truly deserve all that crap... She didn’t deserve any of the good. Cordelia, Nicola, Marissa, everyone else... they all deserve so much better. Not her. She deserved nothing. She can go fuck herself. Bottle empty and phone still in hand, she typed a single message: Congratulations. 

And with a guttural scream that has been waiting an entire decade to make an appearance, there was the sharp sudden sound of broken glass. Had that been when she threw the bottle and phone at the wall? Could that have been due to her scream? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she grabbed a few more bottles and threw them at the wall while screaming and tears streamed down her face. Another crash and the door was broken through, one of the bodyguards quickly running to the woman and tightly wrapping his arms around her to stop her. She thrashed and screamed, tried to kick and punch him while another bodyguard quickly called Marissa to tell her what was going on. The woman eventually stopped fighting and instead just cried, tears that have been waiting ever since the breakup to make an appearance. The man spoke lowly and carefully, trying to calm her down until she eventually fell asleep and dreamed of the deep dark nothing that beckoned her. Wanting her to stay at, forever. 

Should she? Go into that darkness? It was like the bottom of the ocean... Should she?

should she?

should she..?

should she...?

... could that be for the best?

[torasteals]

Blueberries (part 2)

part 1 | part 2 (This is part 2 of the story, go back a page for part 1)

(1,737 words)

Warning: Contains talk of abuse

“They’re a Nightmare Court rescue, like us.”

They’d rescued them too late. The gaunt plant was unnaturally still and wide-eyed - one push away from turning to Nightmare, she knew the look. She wondered if anyone noticed. Did Meritt notice? Judging by the worried looks he cast at Sheridan, she gathered he did.

Definitely not the one leaving blueberries.

In fact, it didn’t take long for her to feel quite comfortable in cutting out many of the members as potential blueberry-leaving candidates. By her fourth week there, she realized there was a hierarchy among them, with the louder or more powerful members lording over those who were deemed weaker. They’d bully them, harass them, or make them do grunt work like cleaning their tools or clothes. The louder ones simply didn’t seem the type, and the quieter ones…

The most notable one was Pepper, a young sylvari whose right-side of his face looked utterly mangled with one eye completely missing. He was for the most part easy to read: another case of a broken home, likely neglected and made to feel small. The scar on his face though, the damage looked like the result of daggers and poison -the kind of poison the Court used on her… She pointed him out to Meritt once, then pointed to her right eye as a question. He caught on.

“We uh, don’t know what happened to him actually. He was gone a bit, then he came back like that. Baya said he took on a camp by himself. I’m guessing it was his rite of passage? I kinda thought he did that already though. He’s been here longer than me.”

Blueten waited for him to explain.

“Everyone has to go through a rite of passage to be here” Meritt informed her. “You have to prove you’re tough enough to handle being a Dagger. When I joined, Birr once um… he uh, stole my clothes and tied it up in a tree south of here. I had to uh, w-wade through the swamp full of wild skelk naked to get em back…”

Blueten only stared at him, horrified when he told her.

“H-Hey, it’s better than Nightmare Court though, right?”

She wasn’t so sure.

And this was something that started to bother her. More than the upstairs and basement being off limits, more than her silly search for someone leaving bowls of blueberries… This guild had a lot of abuse in it. A mess of hurt sylvari taking out that hurt on others until they too started hurting people. A never ending cycle of abuse. She’d seen it before, from behind bars of thorny vines.

The guild members were all quick to try and sell her on their guild mission though. For whatever it was worth, they really did think they were doing good for the sylvari race. They were adamant about stealing only from Nightmare Court and… foreigners, especially asura. The former made sense to her but the latter?

“Baya likes to mention their wrongs toward sylvari a lot. I don’t know.” Meritt told her when she gave him a concerned look over it. “I think she um, you know when the asura kidnapped a bunch of us? No one knows for sure, but we think Baya may be second generation…so…”

That explained some things, but not all. Baya definitely seemed older, but was otherwise unreadable. She wore a casual grin that revealed nothing, rarely said anything that’d betray something too personal, and moved in a way that seemed lax but was clearly practiced. Baya gave nothing away about herself, and Meritt had little to offer on where she came from or who she was beyond meagre rumours.

She was intriguing, commanding a presence whenever she entered the room. More than their leader, she was the guild star, a powerful force of wit that charmed every member. Baya always appeared calm, and ready to give a quick joke or to entertain with her latest stories. Yet there was something off about her, false in a way. Her behaviour was too precise, too practiced… every word she gave felt empty. No one seemed to notice.

Baya was suspicious. Her whole guild was suspicious, but by the fifth week, Blueten didn’t have time to dwell on it. It seemed her own “rite of passage” had finally come, in the form of Birr, a rather portly and greasy sylvari with a bulbous nose and a constant smirk. Her initial profile of him was a plant with a major insecurity about his looks that resulted in a preoccupation with everyone else’s. He was quick to shout unwanted appraisals on appearances, make lewd inappropriate comments, or otherwise be rude. The only person he seemed to be truly kind to was Baya, whom he praised for her beauty.

It was perhaps no surprise then that he eventually targeted Blueten for hiding her looks behind a mask. He was relentless about seeing her without it, harassing her whenever he saw her -nagging, pleading, and even raging to see her without her wooden barrier. Eventually, to the cheers of others, he tried to remove it by force.

She left him dangling from the ceiling, with a small flock of minions she’d summoned tying his clothes around the rafters. That’s when they found out she was a necromancer. It was also when they discovered she could talk, using her minions to speak for her.

“Do not touch me.”

She found a jar of nectar by her door the next day.

It didn’t seem to matter who left it anymore. She was so tired.

Whoever left it must’ve been impressed, and they weren’t the only one. Meritt gave her looks of awe and was eager to have full conversations now that he knew she could talk. Most members gave her a lot of space, giving her uneasy looks as she passed them. And then there was Baya…

“You’ve a talent that’s wastin’, eh? Why aint’cha raidin’ with us?”

So she did, though in truth she wasn’t sure about it. Part of her wanted to give the guild a chance though, despite all their flaws. Maybe this was it. Maybe she just needed to really see them at work.

Her first raid was against a small camp of Nightmare Court, but she made a point to only observe. She didn’t steal a single thing, only acting to fight if they alerted a guard or a Nightmare hound. It wasn’t particularly difficult. It was even relieving in a way, and she secretly wished the guild did more than steal. How stress relieving it would be to wipe out every Courtier onsite.

Then they returned to headquarters, and gathered in the main room around the one dining table. Blueten found herself huddled among the weaker members who all looked very nervous. This was her first time taking part, but she’d seen this ritual before. Each member would go up to the table and drop what they stole on it. It was a moment of judgement, to see who’d stolen the most. She was hardly concerned, she already knew she stole nothing, but the members beside her looked ashamed. Even Meritt, who stood beside her, looked worried.

Just before they could start the ritual in earnest though, Blueten felt herself get shoved aside as a short plant, roughly the same height as her, tumbled his way through the gathering of weaker members. He tripped and fell to the ground, dropping a small bag. The louder members laughed and sneered as he hastily grabbed the bag and picked himself off the floor. She stared, wide-eyed. Who was this?

“Real smooth, Tora!”

“He does this every fuckin’ time…”

“D’ya even look where ya goin’?!”

Face flushed and head bowed, Tora silently made his way to Baya’s side. Blueten watched him  as Baya started the ritual. She couldn’t recall him at all, yet it felt like she must have seen him at least once but… there were 17 members, she’d counted. She looked around again, counted them off by name: Claws, Onora, Birr, Ebril, Meritt, Shade… 18. There were 18 members.

Her pockets felt heavier.

As member after member poured their spoils onto the table, she cautiously searched her pockets. Six gold. She hadn’t stolen six gold. She looked up as the members around her started taking their turns. Each one came back from the table looking relieved, including Meritt. He came up to Blueten, placed a hand on her shoulder, and laughed.

“I always think I’ve stolen less than I have. It’s your turn, Mute!”

Confused, she walked up to the table and slowly dropped the six gold coins onto its rough surface. Six coins she shouldn’t have had. Her mind was racing. The guild cheered, but she barely registered it.

“Pretty good fer a first go!”

“Six gold? Not bad at all!”

She walked back to Meritt’s side, mind spinning faster and faster. Why did she have six gold? She hadn’t stolen six gold! Where did the six gold come from?! A loud yell snapped her out of it.

“YOU DIDN’T STEAL ANYTHING?! AGAIN?!”

Blueten spun around to see Claws snarling at Tora. He’d shrunken behind Baya, but was smiling. It was a copy of Baya’s smile, she realized, except far weaker -it didn’t hide his feelings at all. He was panicking. Did anyone notice?

“Yer so fuckin’ useless! What kinda thief are ya?” Spat another.

“Bayaaa why do you keep him? Honestly…”

“It’s like this every time! One gold or nothing! EVERY TIME!”

Several of them started shouting, enraged, until Baya made a motion for them to stop.

“We’re done here. Meritt, I want this counted and split proper by morning.”

“O-Of course!” Meritt rushed off to the table.

The rest of the guild grumbled and whined but did as they were told, slowly dispersing. All but Blueten who stood still where she was, staring intently at Tora as he began to follow Baya away from the table.

Tora the 18th member.

Tora who hadn’t stolen anything.

Yet she had six gold, and knew she hadn’t stolen anything.

Meritt thought he’d stolen less than what he had.

The weaker members all had looked relieved.

She watched carefully as Tora, now calm, casually reached into his coat pocket and brought out the small bag he’d dropped earlier. He reached into it, plucked something out, and ate it. She squinted as he reached for another.

Blueberries.

 <prev part | part 2 (END) |

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NEW READERS || PATREON

[binaural-histolog]

Interview with Wiseguy at Mindquake 2018

binaural-histolog: So how did all this get started?

WiseGuy: That's a big question.

BH: Okay, let me back up. So it used to be a very small scene. Brian David Phillips was doing things on Yahoo, and there was hypnovideo, the Maestro, etc. And then at some point it got too big to track. What happened?

WG: Well, the first thing I went to was probably 2007-2008, which was Hypnoticon. There was another conference, Hypnocon, that has been going on for like 15 years or so, but it's always been exclusive to the gay men's community so the rest of us didn't know about it.

At that time, I was a fiction writer. I posted on mcstories.com. And when I got there, it was a big surprise how many people read my stories, because if something is really popular, you'll get two, maybe three emails if you're lucky. There's no reddit or like button. There's no feedback. Simon keeps everything minimal and pure. He'll publish anything with very few exceptions, and he'll do no editing on it. It's his... what's the word? It's his aesthetic. And then suddenly you get all these people coming up and they know you and they like your stuff.

So Hypnoticon was a big success, and Mephki and Buddy [DrSlashBlight] got the idea of putting a convention together. Buddy was the face, and Mephki was the brains, the organizer. Buddy had this tremendous skill of being able to stand in the middle of the room and say "Guys, this is what we're going to do and it's going to be great and you're going to love it." And Mephki pulled everyone together and made it all happen. That was NEEHU, 2009. Mephki and Buddy had the New England Hypnosis Group, and there was a recreational hypnosis group next door, and they knew Lady Ru'etha, and she said come to this thing, and that was NEEHU 1. It was a single day. I sat in a couple of panels, talking about erotic hypnosis.

It was literally an unconference and a play party at night, in a not so great part of town. I was surprised that we didn't get in trouble with the police, and we realized later that the illegal police biker bar was next door, so the police weren't going to interfere with any disturbances around that area.

So NEEHU got bigger and bigger, and these groups all started to meet up, and so the people that were already into this found out about it. There were some things independent of NEEHU. Lee Allure and MrDream had their own thing that they run, DeepMindDarkwood. It's a camp, they keep it limited down to 45 people and that's it. But there were more people that wanted to join. Kansas City and Texas had a bunch of stuff happen. Black Rock City. And now there's five things happening yearly, and meetup groups throughout the country.

BH: Do you think there's a reason why everything started to come together in 2008?

Yes and no. All the elements were there, it could have happened earlier or later. But all the right things had to happen in the right order. NEEHU really needed Mephki and Buddy to kick it off, and there needed to be enough meetups and enough groups to keep it going. And there was a lot of learning in the community.

BH: What has the community learned?

WG: Oh, so much. In the beginning, informed consent was not a thing. If you were at a conference, it was assumed that you were consenting. You'd walk up to someone in the hallway, say "wanna see something cool?" and if they said yeah, you'd drop them. That's just... you can't do that now. It's not acceptable.

Safety and ethics was not a thing. There was a talk in NEEHU that was literally "Why do we need ethics?" And that's changed so much now. Safety and ethics are the first thing you learn, and every conference has a code of conduct.

BH: What do you think the community still has to learn?

WG: We still have to learn how to handle our shit properly.

We know how to handle the people who are clueless. We know how to handle the people who are obviously bad. We still have to figure out how to handle the people who are predators, the truly manipulative people. They'll pick their targets carefully, and it'll be someone who is new, and it happens alone in a room. There's no way to know what happened. It's one person's word against another. And it may not even be deception, they may believe their version of events completely. Belief is different from reality. These people will have friends, they have defenders, they'll say all the right things. So it's hard. There may not be a good answer.

BH: I remember reading a book on abuse called Why Does He Do That, and realizing I'd met abusers and seen them operate, and still hadn't put it all together. It is hard. On the other hand, I was encouraged by Divney's discussion about always believing the accuser by default.

WG: It's more complex than a single answer, though. I don't have a problem with BEHIVE's policy in their application, but my concern is that it doesn't scale well to larger events where the stakes are a lot higher than being banned from a local munch.

Mephki: This isn't a legal argument though. There's no standard beyond a reasonable doubt. It's a private party you can't go to, not going to jail or having your children taken away from you.

WG: Agreed, but it's still damage. It's something we haven't figured out yet.

[Much discussion ensues, in which everyone in the room weighs in. Everyone has cogent and nuanced arguments that I could not write notes on fast enough.]

BH: What's really impressed you lately? What's improved in the community that you didn't predict?

WG: Oh! Standards have evolved so much. There are so many bright young voices. Our representation has improved so much. There used to be a joke when you got out of a conference, you'd say "Remember me? I was the bearded white guy." Because that was everyone. Now you have non-binary people, femme representing people, bottom types. There are so many more points of view and inclusion in the community.

BH: One thing I've noticed is that there is an assumption that erotic hypnosis corresponds to kink and BDSM generally.

AmHypnotic, chiming in: Yes, and they're not the same thing. There's this tendency that the bigger and more intense something looks, the more impressive it is. But that's not what makes it work.

BH: I mention it because I really like the gentle femdom movement I've seen lately, where gently pulling on someone's hair is recognized and seen as dominant, and there's no pain or fear. It's not about turning everything up to 11.

WG: There's a lot of good things, but stuff like that is coming from the kink community in general. The EH community is barely 10 years old, and what we have been doing is copying what other conferences are doing, like scholarships for female presenters. And the internet and local groups getting together has been huge. There's so much better vetting of presenters and sharing of information now.

There's still a problem with sharing information. The TNG group had a presenter that had been vetted and it was a horror show. And then once it came out, there were presentations she'd given before that made it clear she had done this before, and so it's a question of getting all those people together. So there's a missing stair problem there.

Mephki: There is a discord server called the Watchtower which is all the conference and group leaders together, and there is a vetting service. There's work being done. There's hypnation. It is getting better. You have to be careful about ban lists, but they are private party events.

BH: What do you think the recreational and EH community can teach the clinical hypnosis community?

WG: [Laughter] There's no comparison. The EH community is leaps and bounds ahead of the professionals. There's no need for them to do it for money, so they have more freedom to experiment, and so it's all about the creativity. But there are professionals still reading off of scripts written in the 1950s.

[Much discussion ensues]

BH: I know there are talented individuals. Melissa Tiers, for example.

WG: No, there are absolutely some great people out there. Melissa Tiers is a rockstar. She's very good, no bullshit, always happy to show new things she's learned. Kaz Riley is another good example. But the field as a whole is still behind and playing it safe. There can be ten different tracks at a conference and not one presentation you want to go to.

Hypnomedia: Hypnothoughts Live is really good. They have a good mix of clinical and stage hypnotists.

WG: I've heard that, but I'm afraid that if I go, I'll get outed.

BH: So final question. Erotic hypnosis would seem to have a natural overlap with using hypnosis for sexual disorders. And yet, there's almost nothing about using hypnosis to treat sexual disorders. And there's sex research on BDSM and kink, but there's very little research into erotic hypnosis. Why do you think that is?

WG: I couldn't tell you. I know there's a Dr Will Horton who puts together a five day course on Erotic Hypnosis. The first three days are clinical, focusing on erectile dysfunction, anorgasmia, and things like that. The final two days, he hands out copies of Mind Play and talks about erotic hypnosis. The mixture of clinical treatment and erotic material in the same course is not something that anyone can do, but Dr Horton has a Psy D, so he can get away with doing it.

BH: But it does seem like so many techniques are essentially erotic hypnosis with the serial numbers filed off. Tantric Massage, Sensate Focus, and so on.

WG: There are many hypnosis things that do not show up in the field. But I don't know.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

How You Met - Akatsuki

Hoshigaki Kisame

You and your puppy went to the lake to enjoy your day off, eat some nice food your mum made for you and have a small swim in the chilly water. As you prepared your blanket and food basket on the grass, the puppy ran past you, yipping happily and jumping straight into the deep part of the lake. Now, you did know how to swim, but you were better at floating in shallow water and not the most confident swimmer either, so clearly, you were rather worried that she might drown or something. Unfortunately, she suddenly sunk under water with a yelp, and you started panicking, looking left and right, asking for help, but nobody seemed to be around when needed. Freaking out, you took off your flip flops and ran into the water, but you suddenly stopped in in fear, as you saw a menacing shark fin circling around your sweet baby.

"NO! DON'T HURT HER! P/N, COME HERE, BABY! FAST!" You were shaking and crying in fear, thinking of the brutal way your baby is going to die, when, instead of the threatening predator, out of the water, came a very tall and well-built shark-like man, holding your puppy in his grasp, protectively, walking in your direction, as she kept licking him, gratefully.

You were now crying of happiness, beaming in glee at the sight in front of him. All senses lost you, emotions overpowering you, and the only rational thing that you could do was to hug the life out of this blue stranger, and he only chuckled and ruffled your hair.

"I honestly c-can't thank you enough f-for saving her. I don't know wh-what I would without her." you said stuttering from emotion. "No need to thank me. I am just happy to help save the life of such a lovely creature." he said, grinning. "Yeah, I totally get you. I'm like that too, since it's why I decided to become a vet since very little. This baby was left abandoned in my clinic after her owners decided that a surgery would be too much time and money wasted." you said, taking her in your embrace and rubbing your head to hers, lovingly. "I hate people like that. Animals are much better than humans, and on that note, lack any evil intent." he said, sighing. "I'm happy to hear that someone else agrees with me, after all this time. People always thought I was crazy for thinking that way." you laughed, seeing his grin widen. "Likewise, I have to say. Will you be around tomorrow too?" he asked, scratching her behind her ear. "I'm not sure. I had this day off from my clinic, but I live in the village nearby, if you want to see me or p/n. I'm uh...Actually the only viable medic in these neighbour villages." you scratched the back of your neck, grinning sheepishly. "If you wouldn't mind a weird, blue shark guy walking around and scaring your patients-" "Nah, only the humans. The animals will surely love you. I have no doubt about that! Hope I'll see you around!" you cut him off, in glee. "I'll see you around, then. Take care and see you later, squiddo." he gave a side-grin and a military salute, as he left the place, leaving you and your lovely puppy enjoy the rest of your day off.

Uchiha Itachi

You were a regular visitor at the vintage bookshop cafe in town, since you absolutely loved to relax on a plush armchair on the ground, with your favourite book and the hot beverage of your choice to soothe your nerves after a long day at work. You were friends with all the employees there, knew all the regular faces and occasionally helped out with what you could. Your favourite was putting back books and arranging them by certain criteria, breathing in the mersmerising scent of coffee and tea. One lovely day, as you were reading "Da Vinci's Code" in your usual silent corner, you noticed a brunet man entering the video silently, and yet, he captured everyone's eyes with his mysterious, intriguing aura, as he walked to the belletristic section, seemingly looking for a certain book.

After reading one more chapter, you look up again and see him in the same place, still searching, so you put the vintage bookmark at the page you were at, gently put it on the table next to your tea and made your way to him, tapping him on his shoulder, smiling softly.

"Hello. I'm sorry to disturb, but you seemed to need help looking for a book. Correct me if I'm wrong, however, and I can leave." you said, trying to look at his gorgeous onyx eyes. "Thank you for your help, miss. I was looking for 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'. I'd be grateful if you could help me find it." he replied, with a ghost of a smile. "Ah...Well, I believe I took the last copy of it, last week, I apologise. I can borrow it to you if you want. I'm almost always around here anyways." you said, recalling the amazing book you recently finished. "Are you not an employee here?" his eyebrow raised in confusion. "Nah, I just come around to relax and enjoy my time. I do tend to help around if I can, since they cant handle all the work, you know?" you replied, looking around in pride and content. "That sounds wonderful. Mind if I come around tomorrow to pick it up? I will return it as soon as I finish it." he said, looking grateful. "Sounds like a plan. Whenever you have time, I'll be here. That, over there, is my usual reading corner, but if you don't see me, just ask around for Y/N, okay?" you grinned, extending your hand for him to shake. "Uchiha Itachi. It was a pleasure meeting you. Thank you for your help, I have to leave now. Have a lovely day." shaking your hand, he made his way out of the bookstore, waving his goodbye at you. "It was nice meeting you too, Itachi." with a side-smile on your face, you turned back to your corner, very smug at the looks the others were giving you.

Deidara

Your village was very well known for its fabulous festivals- so great that people, both ninjas and commoners, would get out of their way to attend them as often as possible, since they provided delightful food from all over the world, great games, and the best part that always comes at night- 

Fireworks!

And that is where you came from-

Since you were very little, you absolutely

LOVED

fireworks- the colours, the patterns, the noise, the smell, everything about them just made you incredibly giddy and overwhelmed with happiness, so, with time, you started creating your own fireworks, infused with elemental chakra and other tricky, secret stuff to make them even better than the common ones, which made the villagers happy to allow you to do every Firework Show, each night.

This night, however, the festival was in the same day as your birthday, which had you excited - tenfold the usual dose, if possible - and going up the hill, in your gorgeous traditional kimono that your mother gifted you, and needless you say, you put your best performance so far, incredibly satisfied at your work and the gorgeous display on the dark, starry sky.

"That was a great firework show, huh? Much more intriguing and fascinating than all the others I've seen so far. You did this, hn?" a deep voice said behind you, making you yelp in surprise and look back at the blond individual, with big, scared, fawn eyes. "Sorry if I scared you, yeah." he continued. "Just wanted to praise the artist and learn some tips from them." he grinned, confidently. "O-Oh! I'm really happy that you liked it! I did my best with this one! It's uh...A special occasion, might I say!" he smiled softly, trying to tone down your excitement. "Lemme guess, it's your birthday, hn? Special outfit for a special day, yeah." he said as he took out some clay his bag. "It is! Good guess, mate! What's this clay for?" you inquired, curiosity completely taking over you. "This! Is my art! Watch and learn, missy!" he gloated, as the mouths on his hands started shaping clay into a bird, showing it off. "Uhh~! So pretty! You're really talented!" you chirped, examining the birdy. "You think this is pretty? Look at this, yeah!" with that, he infused the clay figurine with his chakra and threw it high into the sky, then activated it by yelling "KATSU!", making it create a huge, fascinating explosion, leaving you awestruck, jumping up and down, clapping. "Art truly is an explosion, right?" you said, looking at him in admiration. "I couldn't have said it any better, missy. Glad to see there are other true art enthusiasts around, unlike my dull partner, hn! Well, gotta go now, missy!" he said, as he gave you another clay figurine. "Hope I'll see you again. After all, artists stick together, right?" you said, with a knowing smile plastered on your face. "You know it, missy! See ya around, yeah!" he waved, as he jumped on the back of a huge clay bird and flew away, leaving you look down at the little gift in your hands, smiling and blushing slightly. This sure was one hell of a birthday!

Akasuna no Sasori

Since you were  little, you've always been interested in herbal medicine and poisons, so much that you'd only research plants, both from your home and from abroad, which made you become a well-known merchant, which allowed you to travel all-over the world, practise and invent all sorts of antidotes and poisons.

You were very passionate about your hobby, and by now, you had several books in which you wrote every plant you've encountered, wrote its properties and where you saw it, and many other books for different potions, how you could make them, their effects and so on.

Obviously, you already knew everything by heart, but it was always nice to have it written down and drawn on paper, especially since drawing was also a passion of yours and it was the only way you could practise it.

You carried precious but dangerous information with you at all times, so it was little surprise when one day, when you finally found the perfect spot for new plants to document and draw, you got ambushed by a bunch of no-so-friendly looking ninjas who wanted to hurt you and take your precious notes from you, which angered you so. As soon as you found a run-down small shack, you hid in it and prepared one of your most powerful poisons so you could kill them all. The best part of this? You were completely immune to all poisons and venoms so no matter what the outcome would be, you wouldn't be injured at all. As soon as they entered the house, you raised your mask up to your nose and stealthily closed the door and with a simple jutsu and a very toxic and complex poison, you breathed out a deadly mist that engulfed the whole place, making the scums die in agony as you swiftly made your escape out of there, enjoying their screams of pain. The only problem was that as soon as you got out of there, you stretched your limbs and as you were about to take off your mask, you notice a red-haired man about your height with seemingly no emotions on his face, staring at you. Despite his stoic face, a glint of smugness was evident in his eyes.

"I heard you were good, but that was much better than expected. I can see why Leader wanted to recruit you." he said in a monotone voice. "I wasn't aware I was so famous..." you said quietly. "The day the Black Mamba won't be famous, I wouldn't be-" "Akasuna no Sasori." you chirped, cutting him. "Sorry, that was rude of me. Forgive me." "So you're aware of my title. Good. You'll be coming to the base without any struggle, then." he smirked at you with a slight patronising stare. "As long as I can continue my passions, I don't see any reason not to. Uh...Maybe the fact that you're criminals could be a strong point...But it would be much safer with than without you." you tried to speak coherently, trying not to make a fool of yourself in front of the person that became an inspiration when you were young. "Before that, uhm...Would you mind if I went home and get my things? I have a lot of important thi-" you started, but were quickly cut off by a dismissive hand. "I'm not a patient person. Go home, I'll be back to escort you to our base. Be ware, however, that I am not a patient person and my patience runs thin incredibly fast. Don't push your limits." he said, sternly. "I-I...Will keep that in mind. Thank you for giving me a chance." you said, low-key spazzic and wanting to get away from his intimidating stare. "Do not disappoint." he stated, before he left without a second word.

Well...That will proved to be a great opportunity for you to grow even further and become and even more qualified poison expert.

Pein

You were an amazing ninja, but after a horrible incident which got both your family and your team, consisted of your two best friends, killed, your village blamed and shunned you, making you be forced to go rogue and live the life of a criminal. You were scared and angry at the injustice that has fallen upon you, but there was nothing you could do, apart from living on your life the best you could. After that incident and your shunning, you became a target high in the Bingo Book's Top 10 Wanted Criminals, with a huge bounty on your head, due to your incredible stealth, tracking and mind-controlling skills, which is why, unknown to you, the Akatsuki were trying to recruit you.

Countless months passed since the incident, you managed to find a small but cozy place to live in and you got pretty comfortable with a common life, pretending to be a normal villager. You become the one to provide the small village with flowers and other city technology, so you were used to people knocking on your door, asking for commissions and other stuff to order and bring to the village store, so when a knock could be heard at your door, at first, you weren't surprised. However, that changed when, after so many years, you picked up the sense of an incredibly powerful chakra, which made you uneasy, to say the least, but if that person particularly went out of their way to find you, they were sure to know you were there, so acting anything but peaceful would not be in your favour.

Shivers ran over your body, anxious beyond belief as you quietly unlocked the door and opened it, hiding behind the door, gripping it, only peaking slightly at the stranger standing in front of me. He had short, messy orange hair, multiple piercings, the famous Rinnegan and the feared Akatsuki cloak. Biting your lip, you tried to calm your breathing and hold a decent conversation without showing your worry, since his stern glaze root you to the ground. By the way he was standing, fully composed and an air of authority around him, being here by himself, unlike the others, who seemed to always do missions with another partner.

"H-Hello. How may I help you?" you mustered, unsure of what to do. "You are Y/N L/N, am I correct?" he said in a low, monotone voice. "Y-Yes, who asks?" you clearly weren't surprised this strange knew your name, since you were a known criminal around the big villages. "My name is Pein and I am the Leader of the Akatsuki. I came here to recruit you, being one of those few people with more than average skills." he stated, not budging. "That's...Not so bad, actually. Thanks for considering me, I guess." you said, unsure of yourself, still biting your life. "I will be coming for you next week and I am expecting a definite answer by then." he said, nodding. "There's only one answer which would ensure I'll stay alive, anyways, so uh...You know the answer." you looked away, trying to escape his hypnotising stare. "Very well. Be prepared to leave next week. Also...I suggest breaking your justu. It is not going to work on me. Good day." as with that, he left you there, dumbstruck to the spot, still processing your encounter with the strongest criminal you've ever seen.

It was fun and you were looking forward to this new adventure.

Konan

All your life, you've been dealing with a lot of negativity from everyone around you, since you were the only ninja in the village and you were damned good at your job and with that, you gathered a lot of money and hate from others.

This, however, motivated you to become a better person and spread positivity in any way you could and that included telling people they are pretty, wishing them a great, sunny day and/or giving them flowers. It was, in your opinion, a very sweet way of making they day better and seeing them smile brightened up your own day as well. On the other hand, you only wished someone would one day do the same to you too.

And so, one day, you went to the market, saw some beautiful flowers, took three of them and left to walk around the city and settled for the nearby cafe. Unfortunately, it was all full, apart from one empty chair at a table for two where a gorgeous girl with blue hair was sipping tea and reading a book, which upon further inspection proved to be Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Grinning, yet still feeling shy, you went besides her table, trying to fake confidence.

"Hi! Would it be okay if I stay here? Everywhere else is full." you smiled kindly. "I don't mind." she said, barely stealing a glance at you, but gesturing for you to take a seat.

After taking a cup of hot chocolate, you took out your book from your bag, but something was urging you to talk to the girl, so that's what you tried.

"So, Mary Shelley, huh? I love her work too. She's a genius." you said, unsure. "She's amazing. This must be one of my favourite books and the perspective of ethics is very intriguing." she stated with the ghost of a smile on her face, finally looking at you.

Grinning at her, you continued talking to her about the morals and ethics of the book, the author and many other books with similar topics, until you both finished your drinks and you realised you had to go home. As a way to say goodbye, you paid the bill for the both of you, then smiled at her and handed her one of the flowers.

"It was lovely meeting you and I'm very happy that I got to meet someone as beautiful as you who also shares my tastes in books. You brightened up my whole year with this encounter and I only hope I could make you smile. I hope to see you again, if you wouldn't mind." you said with a grin on your face, gripping on your book, swinging back and forth on your spot, shyly. "I would love to. It was an honour meeting you." she smiled and you could swear the whole room lit up. "I'm Y/N. It was a pleasure meeting you too...?" you stated, hoping for her to tell you her name. "Konan. Thank you for paying for my tea as well." she said, extending her hand for you to shake. "Special people deserve special treatment. Will I be seeing you again soon?" you asked, hopeful. "You will. Farewell, Y/N. Have a bright day." she smiled at you, nodding and leaving the place.

It took you everything you had not to jump-hug her or kiss her cheek in happiness, but you managed to restrain yourself and only grinned at your success and went home, extremely proud of yourself.

Kakuzu

You were a retired ANBU ninja who decided that she's enough death in her life in a short amount of time, so you decided to take up healing and other relaxing activities, like tending to your new flower garden, crocheting and taking care of your kitten. It was all going great, so far, finally managing to get over your trauma and learning again how to relax and be happy. As you were tending to your little piece of heaven, you suddenly got startled by the sound of a tree breaking and a thud. You sighed, got up and went to investigate the annoying sound, which proved to be an unconscious, weird-looking, injured man. You checked to see if he had a pulse, which admittedly, he had, but at the same time, as you took off his mask, you immediately recognised him as one of the most mysterious and dangerous Akatsuki member, high-listed in the Bingo Book you constantly kept in your position. What was more, apart from his name and village, nobody knew anything about him, which made him all the more dangerous, since clearly, every person he encountered and fought never lived to tell the tale of his true powers...Or at least his chakra nature. Not that it mattered, anyways. You were no longer a ninja and nor were you intending to go back to that stressful life, but as soon as you finished your medical training, you swore an oath never to let any person die, if you can help (which, on the other hand, never states that I couldn't possibly maim them at least, thankfully.)

His injuries were incredibly bad and if he wasn't as weirdly, inhumanely powerful as he was, he wouldn't have survived another breathe - which now he could take with ease. Sighing after hours of healing, I stretch your arms, satisfied with your work, when suddenly, a hand grasped your neck and you see Kakuzu raised to a sitting position, his glare being ominously highlighted by his long hair, draping over his face.

"Rude...!" you gasped, trying to breathe, as you put your hands on his wrist, trying to make him stop strangling you. "I healed you!" "Not a wise decision." and although he said that, the grip on your neck became slowly softer until it completely released you. "Sheesh...Kinky. At least get me a cup of sugary coffee or something." you mumbled, rubbing your neck, looking away. "Why would you heal a criminal?"  he said, completely ignoring your previous reply. "Criminal or not, it is my duty as a healer to save people, evil or not. Can't do much about it, huh?" you stated, as a matter of fact. "You have a Bingo Book next to you and yet, you don't seem afraid. Why?" he asked, peering into your eyes. "The risk I took was calculated...But boy, am I bad at maths."you chuckled, trying to ease the tension. "Are you aware of the incredibly huge bounty on your head?" it was more like a statement than a question, as he handed you his own Bingo Book to look at. What came as a huge surprise, as you flipped through the pages you also had in your own book, was a page dedicated to yourself- Your name, your village, your chakra nature, your skills and an unimaginable sum under your picture. You whistled in shock at the page you were staring at, then you slowly and lifted your eyes, making eye-contact with the famous Bounty Hunter, as a chilled shiver took over your body

"So...You're going to kill me and hand me in for the money, huh?" you asked, unsure of his intentions. "Money runs the world and ethics nor morality do anyone a favour. It would be ridiculous not to do so." he stated, without any remorse. You gave a scared laugh, thinking about your last moments, but they never came. Kakuzu, instead of killing you, stood up, towering over your small frame "Fortunately for you, I still have an ounce of morality left. Enough so that I won't kill the healer who did me a favour, despite knowing who I was." and he left without another word, leaving you blinking in surprise. For some reason, this encounter left you with a giddy heart and not only from fear, but from a bit of admiration too.

Hidan

You weren't an actual ninja, being from a smaller village with very few actually training by going to other big village's Academies, but you and your mum learnt how to be very the best healers around, which was why the place you lived at became a small clinic for every kind of people to get treated, either for free, or make donations.

Today was significantly more boring than usual, no conflicts, fights or small 'wars' happening, so you decided to let your mother run the place while watching a movie on your laptop, as you went out to stretch your legs, enjoy some fresh air in the nearby forest, stand by the stream and take in the godly perfume of the flowers.

The birds' symphony that had you lose yourself on Cloud 9 was, however, abruptly stopped when out of nowhere, a screaming head was catapulted in your direction, at a rather fast speed. Your eye twitched at the disturbance and you merely cocked your own head to the left, in order to avoid the annoying thing projecting your way. Happy enough, it slammed into the tree close to you, which made it stop yelling...For a short while.

"Can you shut up already? Some people are trying to enjoy the peace and quite this place offers."you told the annoying talking-head next to you.

This head, apparently, had silver hair, slicked back , slightly messy from the throw, and amethyst eyes.

"The hell is your problem, bitch?! Can't you have any bit of sympathy for a decapitated man?!" he glared at you. "Can you blame me? I just wanted to have one free day to relax and instead I...You know what? This is actually hilarious. How did you end up like this?" you smirked at him, resting your jaw on your hand. "What does it matter?! Just stitch me back to my body and leave me alone!" he said, trying to roll on the ground. "And where is your body, anyways? I couldn't possibly dream of some magical way to detect your body in the middle of nowhere, right?" you chuckled at him, then grabbed him by the hair, making him look at you directly. "You're even more annoying than that asshole, Kakuzu! Argh, just wait till I see him! That way! Go, now!" he said, trying to spin to show you the direction. "Kakuzu? Is he your boyfriend, or what? Domestic fight?" you snickered, getting up and walking in the direction he was instructing. "Boyfriend?! What the hell is wrong with you, bitch?! That jerk is absolutely horrible and has no regard for my religion! Besides, who cares about relationships?! All I need is Jashin-sama's blessings and I'm good." he thundered, clearly offended by the idea of him being in a relationship. "I suppose that's why you're immortal, huh? No normal person could get decapitated in a revenge-porn acti-" "DON'T EVEN DARE CONTINUE THAT SENTENCE! Or, I swear, the first thing I do when I get back to my body is to make you into a sacrifice!" by this time, the foam forming in his mouth almost drooling down his chin in anger. "You forgot the key-point of this. I could just as simply toss you farther away, just like your partner, much smarter than you, did." you winked at him. "Here! There it is!" he yelled in slight smugness. "Ah...Poor you...You look like a fish on the land, struggling to breathe." you replied in fake sympathy, as you sat down besides his body, getting the emergency scroll from your purse and taking out your sewing kit to help the poor idiot become whole again. As soon as you finished the procedure, during which he kept continuously whining and chatting about weird stuff, he got up and rubbed his neck, stretched, clearly relieved to be back. "You know what? I think you did a much better job than that asshole! Thanks, bitch!" he said, beaming. "My name is Y/N and I'd like you to call me by my name, not some stupid nickname your boyfriend calls you." you glared at him. "You know wha-" he tried to continue the sentence, but he was cut off by a loud, angry, booming voice echoing through the forest.

                          "HIDAN!!!"

"Is...This your boyfriend?"

you cocked your head in confusion and amusement at their antics.

You waved at Hidan as he was violently dragged away by his partner.

Ah, what a happy couple~!

[smchaoticchloeofficial]

Dear best friend,

I'd like to pretend this idea was original, but unfortunately it wasn't. Everything coming next is very much original though, so bear with me. And just so you're prepared, get a tissue ready because you're probably going to need one with you being the soppy little thing you are.

I wanted to write something somewhere to let you know just how much me, and everyone else will miss you if you decide to go to California. But after a few teary sessions realised just how selfish that would be. And just in case you thought this is a cue for you getting out of reading all about that, you're wrong. Wait until the end for maximum mush.

To say you've not had the easiest 21 years on this planet would be an understatement. I didn't either be it not as awful as you have, but having you around made it a little more bearable. Now and then you tell me you wish you were stronger or braver. But unless you're aiming for the Incredible Hulk or Godzilla just how strong do you wish to be?

You suffered in silence for years at your dad's hands. And even though you knew how hard it would be to finally speak up you still did it. You didn't care about what it would cost you, you only cared about preventing Bethany going through the same thing. You knew it would likely cost you the rest of your family, you knew you'd be belittled and targeted in court, you knew you'd have to recite and prove all those terrible things he did to you, and you knew there was a chance he might not get sent down, but you took that risk and did it anyway because of Bethany.

Speaking up about what your dad wanted his friends to do with you took you even more time, but I am so proud of you for doing so. That took guts and so much courage and I cannot even imagine how hard that must have been. But you still did it. Despite being called a liar in court by each and every one of them and their legal team saying it was your own fault, you still stood your ground. You just wanted to prevent them doing the same to any one else, no matter how much it hurt you to speak out. If that's not bravery I don't know what is.

Losing both Chris and your Nan in the way that you did was horrific, but neither were ever your fault. And I know that's still something you struggle with, I know you still blame yourself. But you are not responsible for your dad or your grandad's actions. You never, ever were. Maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but that is not your fault. I also know you think you must have done something to make your dad want to abuse you, that somehow you believe you must have deserved it. Your dad acting towards you in the way that he did was never your fault. Your grandad siding with him and doing his dirty work was never your fault. You were a child. You did nothing wrong. You never deserved to be treated the way you were. You are so young to have had to deal with so much grief already, and I don't think anyone could tell you you should have handled any of those things the way you did any better. Every year at their lantern memorials you make sure you speak to everyone who comes and make sure they're not sad. Even though it's such a hard time for you too, you still put other people first. I don't know anyone else who in that situation, would be able to push aside their own feelings to help others.

You've been in hospital more times than Jake's ran away from house spiders, and that's an awful lot of times. But even though every time you've been there it's damaged the way you see yourself, it's never stopped you going out of your way to help others stuck in the hospital too. There are very few people who know all about how you always take your guitar to hospital with you, just so you can sing and play with the kids in there going through a rough time. Very few people who know that every time you go, you always make some kind of donation because you feel guilty needing the hospital so often. You help so many people when you're there feel better just by listening to them and cheering them up no matter the reason why they're there. And I really don't know how you manage to do that, it seems like it's just some magical natural ability you have. I mean you're a terrible patient and never do as you're told but you've always got a good reason. You almost didn't survive sepsis, twice, but as soon as you could get out of bed again you were off playing with the kids on your ward instead of resting. And if that doesn't show the kind of person you truly are I don't know what will.

You've spent most of your life avoiding people, keeping yourself locked away from everyone because you were worried they would get hurt. You tried to push me away once, glad to see you realised that was a losing battle though. I don't understand how you seem so surprised when people tell you they care about you. People choose to know you, Soph. People choose to want you around. It is not your responsibility to keep others safe. Anyone who knows you well enough can understand why you're concerned with everything that's happened with your family. And despite that they still want you around. People are able to make their own choices and if they decide to take that risk then that's on them, you are not responsible for anyone else's choices. Shutting yourself away from people who care is never going to make you happy, for once you need to start putting yourself first. For some of us, it doesn't matter how many times you try to shut us out, we're not going anywhere. We're our own little family, and nothing you could ever do or say is going to change that or make us forget about you. I know if the tables were turned and if it were any one of us you would do the same. I chose to stay, and it doesn't matter how many threats I get, I'm not going anywhere. Because that's what real family would do.

You bought a house to try and get custody of Bethany. You were willing to give up your job, the thing you've always wanted to do to make sure she would be looked after when her previous family didn't. At 19 that's a pretty big accomplishment and something to be proud of. Even though you pulled out of the custody battle, you always made sure Bethany's best interests were met, despite how much you wanted her to be with you.

I know you've never had much self confidence, and it's no surprise considering everything you've been through. I also know that self love and self confidence have been a never ending struggle for you, it's been one step forward and two steps back for a really long time. But you're the kindest, sweetest, and most incredible person. And one day I hope you can see that for yourself. You've got the biggest heart out of anyone I've ever met, and that's so rare nowadays. You're unbelievably smart, though not so much with common sense, sorry... How many people can say they got 18 GCSE's all A's and A*'s and only one B? And you have so many talents, even though you say you're bad at everything. I honestly don't think there's anything you can't do if you tried hard enough.

I didn't even mention half of the things you've been through in this, but I mentioned enough so that anyone else who reads this can see just how much of a fucking bad ass you are for getting through it all and more.

You are by far the strongest and bravest person I've ever met, and I doubt I'll meet anyone braver than you in the future either. You've made a difference to so many people's lives and you don't even realise it. Every so often in life you come across one of those people who just emits light, and you're one of those people. You don't have a bad bone in your body. You're just one of those intrinsically good people. How you could possibly think any one of us would be better off without you in our lives completely baffles me. Recovery's never a linear line, there's a whole bunch of bumps in the road along the way, and you've understandably hit more than your fair share, but one of the many things I've always admired about you is your ability to hit rock bottom and still climb back up. I don't believe in god anymore than you do, but I refuse to believe that you still being here after all the times you've tried taking your own life, the car crash, the fire, and the sepsis, twice, is just a coincidence. I know you like to think of your Nan and Chris as guardian angels, and maybe there was more truth in that than you thought. You deserve to live just as much as everyone else after everything you've been through. You've spent years trying to keep everyone else happy and keep them safe. You never put yourself first, and it's about time you did. You deserve to be happy too. You can't keep wasting your life by worrying about other people.

If your Nan, Chris and Alec were all still here I know for a fact how proud they would be to see the person you've become. They always believed in you, they always saw the best in you even when you couldn't see it in yourself. Just like the rest of us do.

You going to California would be such an unbelievably great opportunity for you. Whether it be for 5 months or a year, we'll all still be here waiting for you to get home. You know we'll take the very best care of your non human family too if you decide to go. It doesn't matter where you are you're still very much one of us, and going away for however long won't change that.

I'm sorry I dated your brother... and then went on to marry him. That was a shit best friend move on my behalf, but at least you've got yourself another sister out of it. But we both know we were family long before a ring proved it. If you leave losing you for anything up to a year is going to be like losing a limb. We've been through so much together and not having you around for that long is going to hurt I won't lie. I'm going to miss my fly in visits every time I go to base. I'm going to miss our late movie nights and our inability to find anything in tesco together even though we both go all the time. I'm going to miss laughing with the only person who completely shares my sense of humor. I'm going to miss you so much, Ladybug. But I know going to California could be the boost you need to get yourself where you need and deserve to be. You've been through enough, you've had enough pain to last longer than a life time. You always put everyone else before yourself but now it's your turn. It's time you got to be happy too.

- Love always, the best friend you will never get rid of.