#That would be fine; I’d participate in that and give it art to see what it cranks out

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

lmfao someone who commissioned AI generated images from Bing and tagged them as “fanart” tried to follow me, an actual digital artist. Blocked.

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 13: Budding Spring - Episode 11: Pause & Pose

Citron: << I don’t see anything wrong with this. >>

Staff: << Understood. Also, there is one more thing– >>

Staff: << As Citronia-sama’s activities become more widely known, the interest in foreign arts and culture increases. >>

Staff: << There have been discussions about proposing the invitation of foreign performances. >>

Citron: << That sounds brilliant. Let’s try discussing it with my father. >>

Staff: << I will create an outline as soon as possible, then. >>

Citron: << I will also keep an eye on promising theater companies and the like. >>

Staff: << I appreciate that. I will create an outline in time for the International Arts Festival, so please wait for a while. >>

Citron: << About that… Please put my attendance confirmation on hold due to scheduling reasons. >>

Staff: << Would you like to have someone else go in your stead? His Majesty said this is a good opportunity to promote Zahra overseas… >>

Citron: << No, if we are going to participate, I am the right person for it. I just have some work piled up. Give me some time. >>

Staff: << Understood. >>

Citron: …

-

[Keyboard keys clicking]

Tsuzuru: … *exhales*

Masumi: … It’s 12.

Tsuzuru: Are you some kinda time announcer? It’s okay. I’ll take a break soon.

[Phone vibrating]

Masumi: …

Tsuzuru: Answer properly if it’s someone you know.

Masumi: I know.

Masumi: … I’m gonna call them back, so leave the room.

Tsuzuru: Eh? You’re making me leave?

Masumi: Hurry.

Tsuzuru: Okay, okay. I got it.

-

Tsuzuru: (Could he have just been trying to get me to take a break?)

Tsuzuru: (Guess I’ll eat and then go for a walk…)

-

Clerk: Welcome. You may sit wherever you like.

Tsuzuru: …

Syu: Oh, if it ain't Minagi-sensei.

Tsuzuru: Eh—

Tsuzuru: (Otomiya-san in a café is kinda… Should I say surprising? Should I call it a mismatch? … I’d understand if we were in a bar.)

Syu: It’s not like I only go out to drink, y’know.

Tsuzuru: (He saw right through me…)

Syu: Are you alone? Hang out with me for a bit.

Tsuzuru: I am. Then, excuse me…

Tsuzuru: (He even acts like we’re in a bar.)

Syu: Man, that Yukio’s really done it now.

Tsuzuru: Eh?

Syu: The Fleur Award.

Syu: This is Yukio we’re talking about, so all he’s thinking is probably things like “Theater is the best” and “It’d be fun if everyone could aim for the Fleur Award ♪”

Syu: He hasn’t stopped to think about the people who got caught up in this and are all confused.

Tsuzuru: Haha…

Tsuzuru: (It’s really starting to feel that way…)

Syu: So, how’s it going? Do you have a winning strategy?

Tsuzuru: Ah, we’re thinking of doing sequels to our debut performances…

Syu: Heeeh. That sounds interesting.

Tsuzuru: It’s just, this is my first time writing a sequel. I’m worried about how to plan it and what people are expecting of me. My pen’s feelin’ heavy, so to speak.

Syu: Isn’t the way you always go about it fine? Isn’t that why you chose to make a sequel of your debut?

Tsuzuru: I mean, I guess that’s true.

Syu: Well, if you need some more help— 

Tsuzuru: ?

Syu: … Have you heard of Director Akazaki?

Tsuzuru: Eh, I have. Isn't he pretty famous?

Syu: As a director and a scriptwriter, he holds a scriptwriting camp once every few years to nurture new talents.

Syu: He's holding it again this year, so he asked me if I know any promising young scriptwriters.

Syu: I was thinking of recommending you, but it looks like you’re too busy for it.

Tsuzuru: A scriptwriting camp… Such a thing exists?

Syu: Scriptwriters that participated in the past have won theater awards overseas, and have been selected for major dramas. The record’s good.

Tsuzuru: I’ve never participated in something like that before. I’m really interested.

Tsuzuru: But, considering the results of 1Q will be announced in three months, I think now’s not the time to participate in something like that…

Tsuzuru: (It’s a tempting new challenge, but given the timing, I don’t think I can accept it.)

Tsuzuru: If there’s a next time, I’d definitely want to participate.

Syu: Got it. I’ll let you know when that time comes.

Syu: As I said before, it’s fine if you stay the way you are, Minagi-sensei.

Syu: If you’re going back to the start, you should ask your past self to teach you about your debut script.

Syu: What do you want to write? That’s the kind of thing that’d appear most clearly in your first work.

Syu: Writing what you want to write’s one of the better parts of working for a particular theater. This sequel is something no one other than you can put out.

Syu: If you get the chance to do what you want, you should take it. Before it gets to a point where you can’t do anything at all, that is.

Tsuzuru: — —

Tsuzuru: (That’s true. He can’t read Hakkaku-san’s sequels anymore.)

Tsuzuru: (And if the rules for the Fleur Award hadn’t changed, we might’ve never brought up the talk of sequels.)

Tsuzuru: (That’s how it was with the original RomiJuli. I just blindly clung to the opportunity given to me.)

Tsuzuru: (Thinking this might be my first and last chance, I was willing to do everything I could.)

Tsuzuru: (Then, now too—)

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

NOTES:

(1) the episode title is two words written in the same way (ポーズ) but denoted just slightly differently, i went with pause and pose by ear

[hey-there-it-me]

What is that??? Another art challenge thing that is vaguely batman themed????

Let me give you guys some background information before I really get into it. Me and my friends who also love DC have done this for a few years now. It’s basically the normal “do an art thing for this prompt for this day” but, ya know, Batman themed and a bit more complex. It’s been fun, some of them do it using traditional art, some digitally, some use it as writing prompts, and so on and so forth. But due to bucket loads of conflicts, a lot of us can’t participate (literally just me and 2 others who can😭) and we don’t want this to die out so a few chats and a cartoony montage of me building this design like it’s a house later, and here we are!

About Batober

You know how these work. Every day in October, you will be given a prompt. You will then create something that you associate with or just straight up is said prompt. All the prompts are randomized every year except the 31st (which will always be Scarecrow). You can use whatever media you like (e.g., writing, visual art, edits, etc) and you really don’t have to wait for specific days or anything to start creating.

But with Batober, we’ve changed some things up to make it a bit more fun and challenging. Personally, I find a lot of these 30/31 day prompt challenges a bit too open ended, so we added a new system with it.

Every day, with the main prompt, there will be three other prompts for that day as well that goes along with the main prompt like accessories. You can pick 1-2 of these additional prompts, but you can’t use all 3. And if you don’t want to use any of the additional prompts and just use the main prompt, that’s totally fine. I’ll post a little card every day to reveal the additional prompts you can pick from:

Of course, it’ll actually have the additional prompts but this is what it’ll basically look like.

Now to clear some things up.

We chose and stuck with “situation,” “relationship,” and “status” because those three are really broad but at the same time can give you more direction. We had tried some other types of prompts in the past but these just kinda stuck.

Situation is just an event they may be participating in or observing or something in between. I like to keep the situations only a few sentences and something that would happen any day in Gotham. 

Relationships aren’t just “platonic” or “romantic,” I like to get really specific with it so you can really get to thinking who that person or thing could be. And hey, if it’s not a character that is the main prompt, it just makes it more interesting!

Status is really broad and basically is anything that happens mentally and sometimes physically (like sometimes I use “injured” or “dead” for status). This can be emotions, mental states, addictions, etc. I don’t really define status as anything, it’s just to add another level of flavor to the mix.

If you have any questions about the rules, I’m not very comfortable with DMs but my ask box is open!

How to Participate

This is my first time hosting one of these so I’m just doing what I see a lot of others do. Just use #batober2024 and make sure to add what day your artwork is for. If you’d like to @ me, go for it! I’d love to see what you guys will do with this! You can also participate on Instagram! Again, use the tag #batober2024 and you can @ me if you like. I rarely use instagram but I’ll post the prompts there as well.

(My insta is @hey_there_it_mehahahehe)

Also please use trigger warnings, we don’t have many rules about how you should use these prompts but please please please use proper trigger warnings!! I don’t really expect for this to become really big because it is our first year sharing it, but if you do participate I’ll try to reblog as many as I can! This list has helped a lot of us out of a lot of art/writers blocks for the past few years, so we hope this will help you guys out too <3

Additional Note!!!

We may make some more of these but for different months (just for the funsies), but that is a HUGE maybe. It’s really up for debate if we keep Batober public but keep some of our other hyperfixation prompts for ourselves, but keep an eye out incase we change our minds! Oh and also I used “The Long Halloween” for the logo because I thought I was being clever cuz hehehoho long Halloween = October = batober hehehahaha I’m so creative (lie). You can use whatever version of these guys you like, from official storylines to fan works or even your own version of them.

Prompt List

Day 1 : Ace Chemical Processing Plant

Day 2 : Robinsville, Midtown

Day 3 : Wayne Manor

Day 4 : Nightwing (different from Dick Grayson)

Day 5 : Upper West Side, Downtown

Day 6 : Arkham Asylum

Day 7 : The Gentleman Ghost

Day 8 : Man Bat

Day 9 : Crime Alley, Uptown

Day 10 : The Joker

Day 11 : The Riddler

Day 12 : Bruce Wayne (different from Batman)

Day 13 : Old Gotham Homeless Shelter, Downtown

Day 14 : Chinatown, Downtown

Day 15 : Jason Todd (different from Red Hood)

Day 16 : Amusement Mile, Uptown

Day 17 : Black Mask

Day 18 : The Iceberg Lounge

Day 19 : Commissioner Jim Gordon

Day 20 : Gotham City Police Department

Day 21 : Tricorner

Day 22 : Oracle (different from Barbra Gordon)

Day 23 : Hush

Day 24 : Wayne Enterprises

Day 25 : Jack Ryder

Day 26 : Upper East Side, Midtown

Day 27 : Richard “Dick” Grayson (different from Nightwing)

Day 28 : Fashion District, Downtown

Day 29 : Alleytown, The Slums

Day 30 : Arkham City

Day 31 : Scarecrow!

Have fun!!!!!

[transomensevents]

‘Ello ello ello! 🩷 I have a question about your mini-bang event, specifically about participation wrt identity, and what is respectful supportive allyship vs taking the mic. I’m a cis woman*, so it’s not for me to tell trans stories or talk over trans voices. But I’ve been touched and inspired by some beautiful writing in this fandom about things like identity (gender and otherwise), and healing from trauma and such. And (if it would be a welcome thing!) I think I would love to sort of support and honor those expressions by drawing/illustrating them?

I’ve never participated in a minibang before, and apologies if I missed this in the FAQ, but am I correct in my understanding that it’s sort of led by the fic idea first, and then the art is supposed to illustrate the fic? Would this be an all right way for someone like me to participate? 1000% okay if not! If this one’s not for allies, is meant to just be for trans people to express themselves, then I look forward to lovely fic and art that I can support by kudos and reblogging! But if allies are welcome, I’d love to support by arting too :)

*99.9% sure. Crowley gives all cis women inexplicable gender envy, right? it’s fine.

Thank you for asking and for your interest!

While this is an event primarily intended for and by trans creators, cis allies are also welcome to participate respectfully. We feel that this is a good opportunity for allies to observe trans art in process and participate in dialogue and building community.

With that being said, if you are an ally and are not yet confident in your ability to portray trans experience in your work, we encourage you to support and observe this event without contributing. You may join us on discord, follow the blog and collection, enjoy the art and vibe with us. We do plan for more events in the future, and would be happy to see you contribute in the future when you feel ready to do so.

[the-houseryn]

Review of my 2023 Writing

I don’t typically post about my fanfics, just reblogging posts made about them by fest mods and the spare reccer but I’ve decided I’d like to change that a bit. So my first attempt is going to be this summary of what I’ve done this year.

⊹

Stats

Word Count Posted: 144,496

Fic Count Posted: 7

Art Posted: 1 (First time)

Updated Series: 2

Fandoms/Ships: HP: 4 Dron, 2 Drarry, 1 Dron Friendship

Fests: @harrydracompreg, @unleashed-fest, @hp-soulmates, @hprarepairfest, and @pumpkinspiceficfest

⊹

Fics Posted

take me home, you're my, my, my, my... (Drarry, 157.4k, E)

Potter – I have found myself in a position in which I am desperate for assistance. I know I have no right to reach out to you for help, but I know of no other option. Could you be amenable to meet up with me someplace private, can be of your choosing, to discuss this matter? Please. Draco Malfoy A Malfoy mystery. His favorite kind.

I’ve been writing this one since Nov 2021 and I unfortunately was only able to update one chapter on it all year long. I yearn for my muse for this fic to return to me so I can finish this bad boy off.

in a party bathroom (Drarry, 16.4k, M, HD Mpreg fest)

He hadn't even wanted to go to the ridiculous party, let alone planned on shagging Potter in a port-a-john while he was there. But he did, and oh, what fun the consequences it brought were...

This one has found itself on a few rec lists this year and I’m very pleased about that. Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed it and promoted it💖

boy, you might have me believing i don't always have to be alone (Dron Friendship, 102.1k, M)

Eighth year was not nearly as painful as he expected it to be. Honestly, Ron would be on cloud nine if only Harry would let them help him. But Harry kept insisting he was fine; his denial was so strong he didn't even see how bloody weird it was that he didn't care that Malfoy was acting weird. It only made sense then to Ron that with Harry not up for the task, it was on Ron's shoulders to watch and take care of the prat.

Started this in Nov 2022 and this year I did Chapters 9-18. This baby lives in my head allll the bloody time, if only that could then translate onto the keyboard with as much ease, then I could have it done already. This one isn’t all that popular, but I’ve got a small gathering of devotees, and that makes it so freaking special 🥰

unless you're choosing me (Dron, 31.4k, M, Soulmate Fest)

A soulmate was a choice. It was two people deciding to spend the rest of their lives together, weathering any storm. That was a fact that Ron would hold as truth for the rest of his life. Even when the Unspeakables found a spell in some ancient text that tied soulmates together with a red cord and showed them a moment of their "true love". It was a hoax, he was sure of it. But no one else agreed, willing to upend their lives just because a stupid spell said so. Ron wouldn't have minded so much if it hadn't wrecked his.

OMG, this fic. I was just freaking perusing the Soulmate Fest prompt list out of curiosity only, NO intention of participating since the due date was like in under two weeks. But then I saw this one prompt (Thank you Dr.P’s hubby) and I was struck dumb with an idea, then wrote the first 11.4k in 24hrs, breaking my record by an extra 2.5k. Honestly so fucking baffled by myself when 3k on a normal day is a stretch.

misty morning comes again (Dron, 4.4k, M, Unleashed Fest)

Every morning without snow on the ground or rain that turned the land into a slip and slide of mud and wet grass, Ron ran the property with his misfit herd of barnyard animals close behind him. The thrilling tease of watching Ron's solid, sweat-glistening body do its lap around the misty morning pond was just about the only thing that could get Draco willingly out of bed so soon after the summer sun rose. Barn chores and animal butts certainly weren't going to do it.

Hands Down My Favorite thing I’ve written this year. I give it a quick reread all the time. I normally don’t care too much about my stats. But I love this fic so bloody much that it bothers me a weeee bit that it’s my lowest hit fic. Only really cuz I get so much joy from it that I just wanna share that joy with others but it seems to have passed under people’s radar.

all of this silence and patience (Dron, 9.9k, M, Pumpkin Spice Fest)

Thanks to the lack of a natural baby boom after the war, The Post-War Reunification and Family Reformation Act of 2003 passed, damning Draco to a long, miserable life with Ronald Bloody Weasley. With nothing left to lose, they might as well try Luna's suggestion, even if the idea of snuggling Weasley sounded like a unique method of torture. Pumpkin Spice Fest Prompt: Morning Fog, Snuggles, and Marriage Law

This was the first fest I’ve ever done with a max word count and I honestly thought 10k was plenty for my idea with this prompt… I ended up having to cut three sections and hunt down every possible contraction I could create to make it three words shy of the max 😶

your seat, it's the best seat (Dron, 17.4k, E, Rare Pair Fest)

In the moment, it hadn’t occurred to him that taunting Draco into sitting on his lap once would open the door for Draco to keep doing so, even when other chairs existed. Nor had he known that the consequence of becoming Draco's furniture was how hard he'd fall in love with someone who didn't fancy him back.

I almost pitched this fic so many times. It was a fucking brawl to finish it. Thank you, Amia, for reading it over tho and hyping it up. I’m way more proud of it than I was then and I appreciate you convincing me to persevere 💖

⊹

Art Posted

[ART] how the hell... (Drarry, G, Unleashed Fest)

Prompt: Harry has no idea how a white highland cow got inside 12 Grimmauld Place, nor why it seems to have a strange affinity for the fancy French chocolates one of his admirers keeps sending him...

Never have I thought I’d participate in a fest with my art, but here we are. I’m honestly quite proud of it…. As long as I don’t think about my struggles with perspective… but hey, my little dumb details like the scrub brushes in the sink and the post-it notes are my favorite things I’ve done. Also??? I’ve never drawn an animal before so I’m proud of that too tbh

⊹

Overall Notes For The Year ✨

I cannot believe how many fests I participated in this year and how many I was so sad to not be able to do like Kinktober and Deflower December. But I’m so so thankful that I participated in the ones I did because it led me to fest servers where I really got a chance to alpha and beta for other writers. Not only did I get to talk to awesome people and make a friend, but these wonderful writers undid so much damage from some bad shit that happened to me in high school English classes. I have been denying myself becoming a professional editor despite my love of it for a decade but between my therapist’s support and these writers insisting I had talents as an editor, even requesting my little write-up about beefing up your writing in 2nd edits, I’m now ready to face those fears. It’s gonna be tough but I’m also so excited in a way I’ve never felt about life outside of writing fanfiction.

(Also, what the fuck is up with me having my word counts end in .4? I managed that in 5 out of 7 fics as well as my overall for the year??? Odd AF)

⊹

2024 Goals

Right now, I have plans for participating in Knot, Dronarry, HD Mpreg, and Love of a Weasley fest with dreams of participating in SEVERAL others. I also HOPE with every fiber of my being that I finish ‘take me home...’ and part one of ‘boy, you might have me...’ in 2024. Got my fingers to fucking crossed for that 🤞🤞🤞

✨May we all have a year full of the planets called Free Time, Great Ideas, and Energy (and Skill for those like me who have skill loss when overwhelmed with life) being aligned so we can create all those wonderful fics floating in the universe, begging to be shared.✨

[maebird-melody]

Fic Stats Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most bookmarks, fourth most comments, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

Thank you so much @aowyn for tagging me! I’ve seen this one going around and it seems fun!

First most hits: The Last Time

After settling into his new anonymous life, Peter picks up a new coffee habit. But is it really just for the sake of routine, or is it an excuse to see his old friends? Peter resolves that today is the last time, and then he will truly cut ties with his past. After all, that's what he wanted, wasn't it?

You may not know this about me, but Spider-Man is my oldest and deepest obsession. I didn't like how No Way Home ended. I didn’t want to rewrite canon or anything, but I did want to explore how Peter (especially MCU Peter) would do a terrible job at staying away from his friends. Most likely this fic only has such a high hit count because the fandom is massive.

I wrote the first chapter of this fic as a oneshot, but it’s become a multi-chapter slow burn identity reveal fic now and I am atrocious at updating with any semblance of a reliable schedule. I’m trying to get a lot of it outlined and several chapters written before I start posting again.

Second most kudos: Glockwork

Sometimes, the answer is violence. In which Clockwork rescues Danny from the Guys in White in a more conventional manner.

Joining fandom events (especially for Danny Phantom) has resulted in several one-off crack fic ideas. This is one of them. My second-longest obsession after the Sam Raimi Spider-Man films has got to be Danny Phantom. I somehow managed to avoid phandom participation for nearly 20 years. And honestly, y’all are insane, but in a good way I think.

Glockwork isn’t even my joke. I just couldn’t think of a better pun than the meme this was based on. I am glad to have contributed any small part to fandom lore. Also, Clockwork with a gun is hilarious. The original art that inspired this fic was drawn by @ravenatural-art

Third most bookmarks: Waypoints

When an unnatural cold settles over Casper High, the trio know that something more than they can see must be going on. But their search for answers yields more than they bargained for. Ghosts are haunting Amity Park with their shattered memories. Only by reliving those memories can they free the mortal realm from ghostly influence, restore the broken cores, and ultimately, help the ghosts pass on. Yet there is a sinister force at work behind the scenes. Someone…or something…caused this. Who is pulling the strings? Why? And how do they make sure none of this happens again?

Another Danny Phantom fic! This is the piece I’m writing for Invisovang (yes, writing, as in present tense—I didn’t finish by the deadline it’s fine). My longest fic by far, it’s amazing what actually planning out your story will do for you.

Probably has so many bookmarks since I'm still actively updating it, and many people prefer to read completed longfics. Also, there are just so many Danny Phantom fics out there. If you want a fic that doesn't involve dissection, maybe this one's for you.

Fourth most comments: Geduldh’s Fate

In which Heisshitze learns of the consequences of his meddling in Ferdinand's affairs. SPOILERS FOR PART 4 VOLUME 8 It is the first Interduchy Tournament since Ferdinand left for Ahrensbach, and Heisshitze is feeling very pleased with himself for having orchestrated Lord Ferdinand's freedom from Ehrenfest. But as he is about to learn, no good deed goes unpunished.

My current obsession, Ascendance of a Bookworm! It’s a slice of life turned high fantasy political thriller light novel series. I highly recommend it. Let’s just say, I was unhappy with the turn of events in Part 4 Volume 8, so I wrote something to deal with that. Ironically, a lot of what I’d written and wanted to happen actually came to pass, if not in exactly the same way. This was also written at the turning point where I stopped waiting for the paperbacks and ended up reading all the way up through pre-pub. I haven't quite gone so far as to read to web novel.

Fifth most words: The Long and Winding Road

While traveling the West Road, Alistair becomes the unwitting guard of a merchant caravan. When he leaves camp later that evening to gather firewood, he meets a strange, enigmatic elf who is lost in the forest. They spend a brief time together before their paths diverge once again.

This was written for a Dragon Age event! It was a fic exchange in which people requested either romantic or platonic pairings with Solas. I picked the Solas & Alistair platonic pairing. I have them sharing a camp together for the night. It’s a very moody, contemplative piece, I like it.

Least words: Uthenera: Fen’Harel Ver Na

"I lay in dark and dreaming sleep while countless wars and ages past." This song blends the Lost Elf Theme and the Thedas Love Theme, and also introduces a new theme of my own devising which can be heard in the opening bars of the piece. This is a programmatic piece, which means that each part of the song represents an unfolding story. For program notes, see the end of this page.

Feels like cheating though cause it’s not words at all. It’s music. Dragon Age inspired music (though I did lift part of a theme whole cloth for this piece, it was too pretty to deconstruct).

Fic with the fewest words that is actually a fic would be A Terrible Bedside Manner.

By the power of fan fiction, the laws of time and space have been broken to bring us this little nugget: what if Richard Maxwell was working for Regis when he first came to Odyssey? This tiny bit of chaos was incredibly fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It’s Adventures in Odyssey crack fic based on the two most compelling characters in the series, who also happen to be the villains (in a series that Did Not Need Any Villains).

I feel like most of y'all have already played by now. Well, if you've already done it, please feel free to ignore the tag! Or instead, share a fic of yours that you think is underrated and doesn't get the attention it deserves. :)

Tagging @imakemywings @seaglass-skies @the-oaken-muse @bibliophilea @sailorpunksenshi @theelibugs

[surrealinkrpstories]

FuckinSurreal, FuckinLucid and FuckinSway

Vane Everett ‏@FuckinSurreal 

@FuckinSway @FuckinLucid /Snaps on some new latex, starting to thread the liner into my tat iron and setting aside to pick up a razor/ Are you sure that’s that one you want, @FuckinLucid? /Lifting a shoulder/ Where are you mounting the art? /Snorts shortly/  

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid 

[I move closer to @FuckinSurreal, turning my back on @FuckinSway and pointing to my arm.] Here will do. [Anything to keep awake.]

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*I frown as @FuckinLucid turns her back to me, but I am interested in watching her get tattooed.* I would love to watch if you don’t mind.

Vane Everett ‏@FuckinSurreal

/Chuckles quietly giving a tick down of my head before starting to shave and prepare the area/@FuckinLucid @FuckinSway It’s fine with me Dude as long as @FuckinLucid doesn’t mind. /Grinning between you both/ So you play at a bar? What instrument? /Cleans off the lower section of@FuckinLucid’s inner arm, starting the free hand drawing before whirling up the iron with a low hum/

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid   

[I start to tap my foot, a sweeping of anxiety rushes through me as I watch @FuckinSurreal set up and clean the area. I shrug at @FuckinSway.] If you must. [I mumble but I’m not sure he heard me. I drift into my own mental space, already feeling buzzed and excited about the ink that’s soon going to be etched into my skin. @FuckinSurreal and @FuckinSway start a new conversation but I’m not listening. I’m closing my eyes and biting my lip, waiting for that tingle, the thrill of being permanently marked.]

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*Looking intently at @FuckinLucid being inked as I reply to @FuckinSurreal.* I play the guitar and sing. I do covers and also write my own music. It’s a great atmosphere over there. I can also get you free drinks if you come by. *I turn my attention back to @FuckinLucid’s etching.* How’s it going, pet?

Vane Everett ‏@FuckinSurreal

/Lifts a brow down to @FuckinLucid bouncing foot, rolling forward in my seat to start lining the ink, small ink drops gathering at the edges as I braze the dark lines across her flesh, wiping away the excess and hitting the ink caps to load up the ink into the needle. I furrow my brow in concentration listening to @FuckinSway/ Guitar, nice. Are you participating in that Blue on the green fest? I’ve heard people talking about it, and being in Austin it’s got to be great for musicians with it being the live music capitol. /Nods over to @FuckinSway/ You get groupies hitting on you?

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid   

[Despite the pain of the needle in my skin, the shivering from the adrenaline high and the busy movement surrounding me. My body relaxes and I sigh as I feel myself sinking into the depths of a blissful calm.]  

Miss B ‏@PoutyIsabella

*The crowd is insane. People lined up from venue to venue, others loitering around tables covered with tattoo designs, waiting to get new ink. I’d been to one of the expos before, back in LA, but the building was larger, so it didn’t feel as cramped. Sliding the flyer into the back pocket of my jeans, my eyes scan the area again. The leaflet mentioned human suspension and the tinge of excitement to see that only kept building the closer I got to where it was. While watching someone hang by hooks through their skin makes me cringe it also feeds into that ever curious nature of mine. Exactly how can they do that?! When I finally push through the crowd, I’m met by two men, both suitable enough for the Hot Stud contest I passed when I came in, hanging from the hooks. There’s no way in heck I could do that! “Fuckin’ epic, right?” My gaze shifts from the men to a girl, her grin spreading from ear to ear. She’s completely covered in ink and I’m curious as to why she’s not in line for the Hot Babe contest. Her hot pink mohawk makes me grin and before I realize it, I’m nodding.* It is… and not a bad sight to see either. *She winks and continues moving through the crowd, getting as close as possible to the men. Pulling my phone out, I snap a few quick photos while moving around, catching different angles, to send to Lily. She can’t stand things like that and I love giving her hell about it. Deciding to start scouting for an artist, I shift to the side, slipping between a couple and head towards the artists’ booths. I judge a few at first based on the artwork and photos of tattoos hanging up or displayed at their tables. The first couple of artists seem to focus on the death side of things, their pieces mainly skulls, reapers and the like.* Definitely not what I’m looking for… *My hand clutches the tiny paper in my pocket and I suddenly feel a little foolish for thinking I’d find what I’m looking for here. Most of the artists are hardco… my train of thought stops I come up on a female artist currently working on a side piece. Her work is cute and frilly, all enhanced with a little freak. I love it. The piece she’s doing consists of stars, feathers and… something else. It kind of reminds me of a paisley design and is something that I definitely wouldn’t mind having. Shifting my gaze from Jessie, my eyes scan the surrounding booths. If I didn’t find someone else to do my randomly crazy tattoo, then she’s going to be who I choose. Not just because of her designs, but she’s cute, too. Always a plus in my books.*

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*Speaking to @FuckinSurreal.* Yep. I’ve heard about it. *Chuckles.* I don’t have any groupies yet that I know of. *Looking back at @FuckinLucid. I frown as I notice her eyes closed and rhytmic breathing. Is she…? *I lean in to whisper in her ear.* Are you falling asleep?

Vane Everett ‏@FuckinSurreal

@FuckinSway @FuckinLucid /Chuckles out, lifting my eyes to scan around the booth briefly/ Who knows, perhaps you have some stealthy stalkers. @FuckinLucid here could be one. /Grins down, seeing Aleva relaxed with a blissful grin across her lips. Strange some. I bend forward to clear away a large drop at the corner of a line, my lids blinking rapidly as I think I see @FuckinLucid’s new tat line shift from where I’d just lined. What the hell? I shift back in my seat, wiping a small trickle of sweat from my brow thinking I may need to rest my eyes soon./

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid   

[The soothing voice of @FuckinSway whispers through my head and I smile in response, forgetting that I’m supposed to hate this guy. But my mind is elsewhere, concentrating on the flood of sensation in my arm as the new ink settles and becomes a part of me.]

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*Tranquility is radiating off of @FuckinLucid, contrasting to the anxiety she had before the tatt started. My lips twitch in a small smile before I notice something strange. Frowning, I take a closer look.* I must have been seeing things. *I mutter to myself, having thought I saw her ink shift before my eyes. Shaking my head, I decide to go for small talk as @FuckinLucid seems calm and not ready to bite my head off.* So, where do you live?

Vane Everett ‏@FuckinSurreal

@FuckinSway @FuckinLucid /I finish up the lining, the shader being loaded carefully as I begin adding the different hues of grey and black to highlight the piece making it stand out more. I refill the ink caps, using the clean the outline and concentrate on blacking in the points in slow even strokes. My head shooting to the side catching an odd expression flicker across @FuckinSway’s face. Did he just see the same thing I had? My temple pounds, finishing the last few strokes on @FuckinLucid’s tattoo, wiping it clean and coating with jelly before allowing her to check the work/ I think you’re all finished,@FuckinLucid. How you holding up? /Slips off my latex, eyes watching closely for her to sit up/

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid  

[I frown as I open my eyes.] Done already? [I didn’t feel a thing. I sit up and start to lean to one side. This has never happened to me before. Shit, I shouldn’t have gotten a tatt when I haven’t slept properly indays! A rushing through my ears has me losing my balance as I try to stand too quickly. What the hell is happening? I feel like I’m crashing after a sugar high as I feel myself shake, starting to fall.]

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*I notice @FuckinLucid sway on her feet and I grab hold of her to help her catch her balance. I glance at @FuckinSurreal, he is talking to other customers. I take a wad of cash out of my pocket and tap@FuckinSurreal’s shoulder before nodding bye and slipping the money in his hand. I wrap my arm around @FuckinLucid’s waist to help guide her away.*

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid   

[I stumble away from @FuckinSurreal’s booth with @FuckinSway, unsure why I’m having such a physical reaction to the tattoo. I must have at least twenty of the things in various places. It has to be something to do with dreaming state I’d been drifting into whilst getting inked. I grab onto@FuckinSway’s arm for balance. Clinging to him as we walk, unsure of where we are going but thankful. My breathing is erratic as we walk and sweat drips down my face.] I need to sit. [I hear myself whisper to @FuckinSway]

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*I can feel her anxiety spiking and using my empathic abilities to bathe her in calmness. I steer her to a chair.* Would you like for me to get you some water, Aleva?

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid   

[I sit on the chair @FuckinSway directs me to, nodding at him.] Sure. Water is good. Coffee is better! [I close my eyes again to try and direct the swirling vivid lights away from my eyes. Please… not now. I can’t go into this state now. I take a deep breath and feel myself calming. But I shouldn’t be calm. The forced emotion is just as disconcerting as my own addiction trying to take a hold of me.]

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

I’ll be right back. *I leave @FuckinLucid to go grab a coffee at the beverage stand and hurry back to her.* Here, sip this. *I hold the cup out to her.* Would you like for me to give you a lift home?

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid   

[I practically snatch the cup from @FuckinSway’s hand, downing the scolding liquid, not caring that it is burning my lips and throat. Just needing the caffeine and now. I take a deep breath after draining the contents of the styrofoam cup. Licking my stinging, puffy lips. I shake my head at @FuckinSway.] I don’t know where I’m staying yet. I was kicked out of my last motel.

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*I gaze down at @FuckinLucid. I don’t want her to be without a place to stay. I can always sleep on the couch in my art studio and let her have the bed my room. I blurt out.* I have a spare bedroom if you’d like a place to stay.

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid   

[I raise my brow at @FuckinSway, the coffee finally taking effect on my body and waking me up. I feel messy and my arm is stinging. I look down at the new ink and remember I didn’t give @FuckinSurrealany money.] Oh shit, I forgot to pay! [I start to stand again but stumble and lean against @FuckinSwayinstead. Groaning and lifting my slightly bloodied and newly tattooed arm to wipe my face which is soaked in sweat from the adrenaline and Texas heat. I remember @FuckinSway asking me a question.] You say you have a bed, Julian?

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*I lift my brows at the use of my real name. So she does know it after all. I inwardly chuckle, but not letting my amusement show. I hold her up and let her lean on me.* I paid @FuckinSurreal for you so don’t worry about that and, yes, I have a spare room if you’d like to take advantage of that.  

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid   

[I chuckle, as a foreign sense of amusement sweeps through me. Unable to control my words, I blurt out…] As long as you don’t make me strip. [It sounded funnier in my head and I’m not even sure why I said it. Letting @FuckinSway guide me to wherever we’re going. I should definitely sleep. And soon.]

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*Laughing out loud this time, shaking my head.* Don’t worry, I’m not that creepy. Is there anything you need to get before we go to my place? *I begin to steer you out of the building.*

⌘☯ Aleva ☮⌘ ‏@FuckinLucid   

[Snort] You really are a creep. You just have trouble admitting it. [I chuckle to myself before realising…] I left my bag at @FuckinSurreal’s booth. But I know where his shop is. I can grab it some other time. You got some spare clothes?  

Julian Blake ‏@FuckinSway

*I could loan you a shirt and some shorts.* Yes I do. *I help you over towards the car.*

[tolkienrsb]

CALLING ALL TOLKIEN FAN ARTISTS!

There are just 10 days left to sign up for 2022’s Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang - the form will be open until 23.59 CET on 8 May.  We’ve got some great submissions already but it would be wonderful if more of you could join us - the more artwork, the better!

I’d like to take part but I’ll never get anything finished in 10 days...

It doesn’t have to be finished - art drafts are due at 23.59 CET on 15 May, and the draft just needs to give a good idea of what the final piece will look like.  Line art which will have colour added later is fine, or you could submit a concept drawing of something that you will work on through the summer - a costume or an embroidery piece, for example.  If in doubt, contact the mods; we will be as accommodating as we can.

Unless you decide that you want to be completely hands off in your partnership with your author, you have until 7th August to finish your art.

I’m not sure my art is eligible.

It probably is!  We only turn down art for the following reasons:

1) It is so incomplete that you can’t get any idea what the finished piece will be like (e.g. it’s at the lines and blobs stage - a nice sketch, for example, would be fine, or a manip that’s still a little rough at the edges).

2) It doesn’t demonstrate sufficient original input (e.g. it’s a screenshot from a film or game with no transformative elements applied).

3) The piece(s) submitted have previously been published elsewhere (e.g. they’re already on DeviantArt).

We accept all kinds of artworks.  In the past we’ve had sculpture, crafts, drawings, paintings, comic strips, moodboards, edits, digital manipulations, calligraphy, collage, cosplay and print block cutting.  It would be great to broaden that out even further.  (Pyrography? Video?  Bookbinding? Board game design?!?) 

I’ve never done anything like this before! / I’m usually a writer and I’ve never published my art!  I’m nervous!

You’re not on your own - every year we have a lot of first timers as well as plenty of experienced participants.  The mods will happily answer any questions you have; our FAQ section gives a fairly comprehensive run-down of the event, but if something isn’t clear, please just ask!

What if nobody wants to claim my art?

We cannot absolutely promise that every artwork will find a loving home with one of our authors, but rest assured that demand on claims night is always extremely high - and it isn’t always the obvious characters and pairings that get snapped up first…

(We also have an excellent team of pinch hitters and treat makers, and will do our very best to find someone to write for your creative efforts.)

I’ve only seen the films / I’ve only read The Lord of the Rings / I’m new to the fandom, but everybody is talking about obscure academic papers and people whose names start with Fin.  Help!!!

We have artists and writers of all experience levels taking part in this event, from complete beginners through to professionals.  Length of time in fandom and knowledge of different canons also varies, and we will be glad to have you whether you are a full-time Tolkien scholar or you fell in love with the films last weekend.

There is no gate-keeping in this event and no expectation that you are familiar with every Tolkien text or every piece of media.  All we ask is that you are clear in your submission which canon(s) your art is based on.  Art and fic based solely on the films or on a video game canon is very welcome in the event - in fact, we always like to see a mixture!

Do I have to help the author with the story?  I don’t think I can do that!

That’s OK!  We have a range of collaboration levels that you select from when you submit your art, including low-commitment options (though we do ask that you are responsive to your author and reply to any questions within 48 hours, unless you have told them in advance that you’re going to be unavailable for a period of time). See the FAQs for more detail. 

How many pieces can I submit?

Up to two pieces, for claiming by two separate authors.  

OK, I’m in.  What next?

The artist signup form is over here - once we have your signup, we will send you a confirmation email welcoming you to the event (this can take up to 48 hours depending on mod availability).  We can’t wait to see your beautiful creations!

[spencersawkward]

if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together

me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted! 

summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.

relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.

word count: 4.5k

masterlist

popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.

but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.

and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--

"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.

"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.

a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.

he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.

as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.

every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.

I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.

my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.

I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.

which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.

it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.

towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.

"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."

at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.

as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.

"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"

my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.

I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.

"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.

"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.

"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."

"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.

"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.

"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."

he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.

"are you struggling with the content?"

"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.

"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."

"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.

"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."

"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.

but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.

when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.

"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.

"only one minute, though. I had another class."

he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.

"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.

"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.

"I didn't know you cared."

"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.

"of what?" my expression is saccharine.

"being rude to people who control your grades."

"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.

"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.

"you wouldn't."

"and why is that?" he baits.

"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."

"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."

"not completely." I shrug.

"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.

"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."

Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.

"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.

"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.

I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.

"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.

"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"

"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.

"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"

"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.

"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."

"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."

"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"

"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.

"why?"

"well, I mean, you're a student--"

"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."

"w-what?"

"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.

he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.

"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."

"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.

"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"

as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.

god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.

"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.

"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.

I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."

one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.

"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"

"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.

"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.

"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.

"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.

"I'll be good." I practically beg.

"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.

"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.

"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.

"you're fucked up, doctor."

"so are you."

after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.

instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.

"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.

"mhmm."

"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."

"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.

he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.

"too hard, baby?" he checks.

"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.

"you like being punished?"

"yes." strangled and desperate.

he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.

he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.

"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.

"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.

"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."

he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"

"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."

"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.

he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.

his breath stops for a moment before he groans.

"so ready for me."

he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.

"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.

"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"

"Dr. Reid--" I moan.

he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.

"take it, baby. fucking take it."

I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.

"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.

"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.

"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."

"thank you." I whine.

"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.

"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.

"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.

"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."

"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.

"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.

"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."

the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.

"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.

"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.

"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.

"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.

"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.

"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.

"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.

"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.

he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.

"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."

"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.

"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.

"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."

I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."

"math is not fun."

"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E121 (Jan. 19, 2021)

Aaaand we're back! The epic pet montage at the start is still the greatest thing ever.

Tonight's guests? Matthew Mercer and Marisha Ray!

We begin with an extensive discussion of waffle farts. As you do.

Matt is asked what it's been like to get to build out the characters in the Tombtakers. Lucien is Matt's favorite, but they've all got some fun traits to them. "It's one of those rare experiences as a dungeon master where you get to watch your players combat with the necessity of playing along. The instinct is: fuck these guys, I want to fight them, we'll take their shit... or I guess we have to play nice. And they begrudgingly grit their teeth and I smile internally."

On the Lucien accent: "You guys are all so mean to Taliesin!" Matt knew his own take would be a "weird mutation" of Mollymauk's accent anyway.

How's Marisha feeling about a lot of her predictions panning out? "Aw, I mean, gee, me? What? Noooo. It's definitely vindicating, I'm not gonna lie, and rewarding, but I also know that I write a lot of shit down in that notebook that's never relevant ever again. It's definitely a good feeling to know that I didn't go on that fifteen-minute deep dive and was utterly wrong about everything I said." Matt: "I was super proud. I was just silently cheering you on as you went on these long tangents."

What does Lucien think of the Mighty Nein? "Lucien is definitely curious about why they're getting involved in his shit and what they're planning alongside them. One, he hates Beau because he doesn't like people who challenge his authority. He gravitates towards Jester to an extent because she's the most open, which from his standpoint makes her easiest to manipulate. He loves toying with curiosity, and so between Jester and Caleb, those are the two people that he's the most comfortable interacting with. Caduceus makes him feel a little weird. He's amused by them. Fjord to Lucien is one of the more guarded and less accessible at the moment."

Is Beau enjoying getting under Lucien's skin? "Beau's picking and poking still kind of stems from her defensiveness and guardedness and her feelings, in a lot of ways, and the way that she's coping with things. It's a few steps removed from her default and what she often resorts to when she starts throwing up those barriers. She still has in the back of her head that she's looking at her dead friend. It's her way of protecting herself if she can go, fuck you, I don't care about you. This isn't too dissimilar to the way she reacted when Yasha was brainwashed." Matt: "It's a unique social sparring match the whole time they're traveling side-by-side. It's unique to have an antagonistic force that you're--" Marisha: "That we're going camping with."

Navigating the Tombtaker/M9 relationship as a DM is "challenging. At any given moment, a wrong statement could escalate matters one way or the other. It's having to pay attention to a lot of things at all points in time to be ready for how those chain reactions can happen and where it might go." He likens it to trying to follow and participate in two different conversations simultaneously at a party.

On the note from Yasha: "Oh man, you guys. Oh, it was so sweet. I don't think Beau was expecting Yasha to be so forthcoming with everything, and so complimentary and eloquent. Beau is awkward with healthy relationships, so she doesn't know how to handle them. She's still processing that and wants to not ruin it. No, it was magical." Ashley told Marisha after the episode that she was trying to think of what to say and wound up basing it on what she would say about Marisha.

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Vax (by stormfeather_cosplay, photograph by travi_b, both on Instagram)!

On using variations on the Wild Magic table: "I wanted to give it some variation to consequences. They took some of the tooth out of it from earlier editions. I knew it would be fun once I gave them the specifications of when these things would happen - players are just waiting for someone to roll a 20 or a 1 at all times."

Why is it so important to Beau that she and Yasha have a proper date? Part of it is a fresh start. "So much of Beau's past relationships have been rooted in some toxic behavior. Beau feels like, well, maybe we should just start from the beginning in the most us way possible: fighting through the tundra with our dead-ish friend."

The sci-fi-ish theme came toward the end of developing Aeor, but it mostly comes from rationalization. Matt is intrigued by how all these different societies want to usurp the gods... which has parallels with modern society. He notes that focusing more on the science of the magic means the aesthetics pull away to "instead facilitate the utility or the most direct route to the answers you want. You streamline as opposed to focusing on the aesthetics."

Beau’s reaction to all the weird magic stuff? “I think Beau’s just so focused on the pragmatic aspects of it all right now. There are greedy people with motives and the will and want to corrupt across all spans of cultures and times. She’s trying not to get lost in the magic, both proverbially and literally, of it all, and just trying to focus on the motives of these people at hand.”

In some ways, Matt was surprised by Caduceus’ strong reaction to the creepy woods. “It was the first major reveal that there are some other sides to the coin that he hadn’t learned about. I had no idea how he would react. It pushed him away more in ways than I expected.”

Fan art of the week: an amazing Lucien! (by oratorkayla on Twitter)

What’s Dagen’s motivation? “He’s definitely a man of his word when it comes to fulfilling a contract and getting the other half of his pay, but it’s not hard to see they’ve grown on him a little bit. He’s really good at getting around the tundra unseen and unnoticed.”

Brian: “In true Sam fashion-” Marisha, instantly: “OH MY GOD.”

Marisha: “Here’s the thing. Here’s the tea, okay? If I ever hear one more fucking person trying to claim that I’m ruining things by metagaming, I’m going to point to Sam. I’m expected to respond accordingly to Veth being a Sam troll. Gods damn him! Raven Queen curse upon him! Let chaos reign! He made me pull out my earphones, I can’t hear anything you’re saying. It’s frustrating because I’d be mad at it if it wasn’t so god damn funny.” Matt notes that at a different table this wouldn’t be great behavior, but they all know each other well enough (and check in with each other enough) that it’s comfortable teasing.

With a bit of a deeper pull, Matt is asked whether he knew Avantika would return someday? “I knew she was a fun, interesting option out there. The M9 still have in their grasp the single most important artifact, in Uk’otoa’s opinion, at the moment. As long as they carry that artifact, his eye of Sauron is upon them.” Matt notes that he has more encounter tables going, so a lot of the time even he’s not sure what’s going to happen.

Caduceus suggested contacting Essek, but Beau and Caleb nixed that idea. Does Beau trust him? “Gods no. Absolutely not. She can like Essek personally. As a person, he’s fine, I guess. But I think a lot of people might be forgetting that he’s kind of a war criminal and kind of set off a lot of bad things in motion with this war with the Empire and the Dynasty, because he wanted power and to know things. So now here he is, also in Aeor. Yeah. Just kinda putting two and two together there. It is another one of those things of, you’re walking that line on trying to keep him on your good side and having a mutually beneficial relationship before it could easily go completely south.”

On the Star Razor being a Vestige: “I don’t want this to be--- the Vestiges aren’t always a thing where it’s like, you get a Vestige and you get a Vestige! I want them to be still considered special and rare. This is one that had to be earned, it had to be reforged. I didn’t know the circumstances that would involve it coming about.” He based it on the circumstances of Fjord’s evolution into a paladin. “In essence, not only did he finish the creation of the sword, but he Awakened it at the same time as he made this transition. It is Exalted at this point, it’s in its final form.”

What does Beau think might lie ahead? “I have no idea. I am trying to abandon expectation when it comes to that. I know what we don’t know, and that’s it. Beau is trying to compensate for the known unknowns and the unknown unknowns. I hope we can keep this tenuous relationship through to Aeor, because we need more answers before it explodes in our face. Beau, and Marisha, is hoping for a little more information before shit hits the fan.”

[dustofthedailylife]

hi dust! congrats on hitting 1k, i’m so happy for you!! 🎉. i’m not sure if there’s still spots left for the event, but if you don’t get to doing mine, that’s perfectly fine!

name/alias: actinium (or act for short!)

hobbies: drawing/making art, listening to music, cooking, learning about things, etc

personality: i’d say i’m pretty intelligent, witty, and sarcastic. i can be pretty lazy but also upbeat. i’m very introverted and lose a lot of energy from talking to people, but i can be loud and outgoing at times (especially with people i’m close to). i’m also pretty blunt and don’t mind telling people the truth straight to their face. however, im also emotional and sensitive, i just don’t show it to people.

what i look for in a partner: definitely someone who’s more outgoing, loud, intelligent, and funny. i absolutely adore people who are kind and love people no matter what. i especially like people who really value things like knowledge, the arts, and getting to know others. bonus points if their love language is quality time (cause that’s mine)

personality traits i like/ dislike in others: like: humor, intelligence, confidence, kindness, honesty. dislike: rude, hates on things for no reason, ignorance, can’t take jokes, low self esteem, dishonesty, judgmental, overly dependent, super clingy

zodiac sign: taurus

fav romance trope: enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers (both with mutual pining)

ideal date: something where we can just talk (like maybe a late night walk around the city just looking at things, talking about serious stuff, but also goofing off)

Hiiii! thank you for participating and also congrats on hitting 1k yourself on your writing account! I thought about sending in an a request for your event, too, but when I saw I was already too late 🤭 Anyway, here we go...

Your Perfect Match is...

Childe

The first time you meet him is at Third Round Knockout where you're drinking tea while reading a book. He is seated at the table next to you with a couple of other people you had never seen before. He was visibly struggling to eat with the provided chopsticks while being ridiculed by the people he ate with.

You tried to concentrate on your book but for some reason the struggle of this random (quite handsome) stranger kept pulling you in. A smirk finding a way to your face.

The company he was with soon remarked that he should simply just ask for a fork and spoon before pointing at you and pointing out that even the locals are starting to be amused by his struggle.

Eventually you'd give him some advice how to properly eat with them to which he invited you over to their table, or rather his, since his company soon left.

Something with the both of you just instantly clicked and you started seeing each other more often after that.

In your relationship he is definitely the more outgoing and loud part and would definitely make your energy levels rise.

Prepare for daily witty/sarcastic remark battles because he is all over that and he finds it quite attractive that you can keep up with him.

He is the confidence king! Even if he sometimes overestimates himself... (try to take care of him, okay?)

How does cooking together sound for you? Because he loves cooking, especially with you! Would 100% be the type to jump around the kitchen dancing and using the spoons as improvised microphones.

Even though he can be super goofy he can also be serious and mature. You can count on him at all times, no matter what is weighing you down or if you simply just want to have a mature conversation about anything, he can do it all.

You don't even need to tell him, he can read the room pretty well and knows when it's time for shenanigans and when you're trying to have a meaningful conversation.

Childe's love language 100% is quality time. He can get quite busy due to his job so he tries to make the best of the time he gets with loved ones.

"You know, you're quite good at explaining things. Mind showing me how to use chopsticks again tomorrow? I have to survive a while longer here in Liyue still."

[yandere-society]

The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired 

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it. 

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story! 

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango​ 

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know! 

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon. 

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me? 

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire. 

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing. 

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together. 

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine. 

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk. 

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.” 

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.  

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water. 

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold. 

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight. 

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person. 

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear. 

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces. 

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field. 

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain. 

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me. 

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor. 

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist. 

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?” 

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-” 

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come. 

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

-

I’m chasing something odd in my dream. 

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing. 

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast. 

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains. 

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face. 

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am. 

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men. 

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail. 

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy. 

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

-

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two. 

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle. 

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit. 

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me. 

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family. 

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.  

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room. 

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?” 

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother. 

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.” 

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again. 

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites. 

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room. 

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.” 

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows. 

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely. 

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch. 

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant. 

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-” 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” 

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend. 

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.  

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me. 

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” 

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.” 

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more. 

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me. 

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week. 

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount. 

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly. 

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.” 

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me. 

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.” 

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand. 

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.  

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features. 

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire. 

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone. 

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.” 

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?” 

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.” 

-

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.  

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer. 

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.” 

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago. 

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well. 

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave. 

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him. 

-

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice. 

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing. 

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take. 

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I... 

No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages. 

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl. 

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.  

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands. 

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.  

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me. 

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened. 

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain. 

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

-

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America. 

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!” 

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?” 

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over.  “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL 

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole 

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers, 

                                      The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.” 

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?” 

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace. 

-

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes. 

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!” 

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.” 

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns. 

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so. 

-

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse. 

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway. 

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this. 

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning. 

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger. 

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp. 

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper. 

-

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry. 

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief. 

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence. 

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in. 

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room. 

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room. 

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls. 

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well. 

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts. 

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares. 

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to. 

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I  turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn. 

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board. 

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us. 

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room. 

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me. 

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy,  dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!” 

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase. 

Mr. Jeon Jungkook. 

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.” 

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at. 

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.” 

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me. 

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of  this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor. 

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue. 

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second. 

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure. 

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues. 

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.”  My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise. 

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue. 

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.”  Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.” 

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously. 

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head. 

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?” 

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.” 

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.  

“You have my word.” 

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find. 

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.  

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?   

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not. 

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me. 

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction. 

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes.  The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.       

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more. 

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man. 

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire. 

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago. 

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.                          

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain. 

“I live to serve.” 

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses. 

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white. 

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up. 

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him. 

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed. 

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.” 

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on. 

 “The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us. 

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need. 

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing. 

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck. 

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his. 

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me. 

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show. 

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way. 

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought. 

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation. 

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets. 

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.” 

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt. 

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.” 

---

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! 

[mackeydoodledoo]

Heroes

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You’re a sucker for classic rock. You’re a sucker for women. Getting a woman to get into classic rock is a milestone for you. It’s your senior year of high school and you had participated in a Senior’s Art Showcase; not only attracting a staff member of Musician’s Institute, but also your high school’s most popular yet edgy girl: Daniela Dimitrescu

Warnings: Awkwardness, High school Bullying, Mention of Separation Anxiety, Self-harm scars, fluff at the end

A/N: As someone who is a musician that dreams of becoming an actual musician, this is a whole vibe: getting scouted by a staff person who is apart of a music school and attracting a woman just being a musician.

“Heroes” - David Bowie

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Late-Fall As you play the last chord on your bass guitar of your song that you had written for this showcase, you receive a standing ovation. You could just barely see outlines of people standing for your performance. You could feel some kind of sweat along the sides of your head. Not only from the bright auditorium lights but the nerves almost getting the best of you.

You put your bass into your case and hoist the case across your body but turn around when you hear someone clearing their throat.

“Y/n Y/l/n was it?” A complete stranger asks

“That’s me,” You say, “I’m sorry, you are?”

“Derek Frank,” He introduces himself, “Bass instructor at Musicians Institute.”

Not knowing what else to say you only shake his hand. Maybe for slightly too long...

“I’m impressed by how you incorporated guitar-like chords on your bass,” He comments

“Thank you sir,” You say, chuckling nervously, “To be quite honest, it wasn’t too difficult to compose really. I just took them an octave down and wrote them out on tabs in case I’d forget and... All that... Jazz..”

Smooth y/n... Smooth...

“Well, I’d like you to give you a full-ride scholarship to Musicians Institute, working under me in the Bass classes,” He announces

Your mouth hangs agape, you didn’t expect to get that kind of offer. You don’t answer him right away as you were still trying to even process the offer.

“I’ll let you think about it,” He chuckles, “Here’s my card.”

You take one of his business cards and he makes his leave. you turn to him and watch him exit the building.

“You sure have a way with music,” A voice calls from behind you

You turn back into the other direction and notice Daniel Dimitrescu; Your school’s most popular girl. All the girls are pining after her. Yet, here she is; in your presence. 

“Thank you,” You say, “I-uhh, haven’t been able to get around to the fine art section of this showcase yet but I’m heading over there right now.”

“Perfect, I’ll join you,” She slightly smiles, coming up right next to you

You walk next to Daniela in silence, trying to think of a way to talk to her.

“Weren’t-weren’t you in the fine art section though?” You ask, finally breaking the silence

“I was, but then I heard how the performing arts section had a prodigy bassist performing. That sounded way more interesting than just standing around, greeting people,” Daniela explains

“Is that so?” You ask, sounding slightly flirty

“Was that flirting y/n y/l/n?” Daniela smirks at you

“Maybe,” You joke, but also not joking

Daniela leads you to her exhibition spot and you’re greeted in awe. 

The graphite... Ink... My god she’s a real artist... 

You also happen to notice some photographs that seem to be tattoos she’s done.

“And a tattoo artist?” You ask, gazing at her work, “You must be the prodigy instead of me.”

“Apprentice,” Daniela corrects you, “I’m currently an apprentice at the tattoo shop downtown. But, that won’t last very much longer.”

“Why’s that?” you ask, looking away from her artwork to look at her

“I got a full-ride scholarship to a private art school in the city,” She sighs, “But, I’ll make sure I’ll find a way to make it work.”

“You will,” You encourage her

After the senior art showcase, you and Daniela were out in the parking lot, walking to each others’ vehicles.

“Would you possibly want to get a coffee sometime?” Daniela asks out of the blue

“I don’t see why not Dani,” You smile, closing your trunk after placing your bass case in there

You didn’t really notice the change in color in Daniela’s cheek however you take out your phone and hand it to her. She does the same for her phone and the both of you part ways for the night until the next morning for school.

During the entire morning Daniela had no absolute time to even just say hi to you as you were always disappearing in the school halls between classes. She was hoping she’d see you at lunch however, when she had noticed you not in your typical spot in the corner of the cafeteria, the only other place she thought of was the band room practice rooms.

“Sorry ladies I have to go find someone,” She says, standing from her seat

The girls that swarmed around her, watching her sketch a design into her sketchbook all groan in annoyance and begin dispersing back into the cafeteria. Daniela rushes out of there and right across the hall into the band hall. A few band kids give her an odd look.

“Have you seen y/n?” she asks, despite knowing you might be in the practice room

“Practice room C,” one of the band kids answers

“Thanks,” she says, rushing past them

As you were playing a long to a song, you could slightly hear the door being knocked on. You look over and a smile sweeps across your face as You put your bass against your stand and run up to the door.

“Hey stranger,” You smile, “Come here often?”

“No,” Daniela giggles, stepping into the practice room, “I came to see you. I also need a break from all of the pining girls...”

“Alright,” You sigh, smiling, “ Make yourself comfortable.”

She sits in a chair and watches you, intently.

“What do you want to hear?” You ask, picking your bass back up

“Impress me,” She only says

You chuckle and throw in some slap bass to a song you were doing. Daniela couldn’t help but almost laugh at your ‘bass face’ as you let the music speak for itself.

“What?” You ask, smiling

“The faces you make when you play,” She laughs

“Oh, right,” You chuckle it off, “That happens when a musician lets the music take over our souls and we tend to make faces.”

“Your faces are cute if you tell me,” She smiles

Before you could talk more the bell rings.

“Blast this school,” Daniela growls, “Are you doing anything after school?”

“No why?” You ask

“Meet me in the student parking lot,” She says, leaving the band wing

You spend the rest of your time in the band room as you have pretty much finished everything that was required for your graduation. However, you do wait at the doors leading to the student parking lot. As the final bell rings, you leave through the doors but wait outside for Daniela to come meet you. You look over and see her with a flock of girls following close behind. She manages to see you and speeds off into your direction.

“Hey you,” She smiles, “You ready?”

You nod happily and she swings her arm around you, making sure to let hose girls know who she’s taken an interest to. 

“Where are we going?” You ask

“You’ll see love,” She smiles as she leads you to a convertible vehicle.

“Is that-?”

“Yep, that’s my baby right there,” Daniela smiles

She opens the passenger door for you and you smile at her whilst seating yourself into her car. 

“A gentleman indeed,” You smile

“Oh you shush,” She teases

She gets into the driver’s side door and begins to drive.

“Hey, you got any music?” Daniela asks almost at the top of her lungs

“I do, pass the aux,” You smile

She passes a thin cord to you and you plug in your phone. You scroll through your phone. As the song starts, You look over at Daniela, hoping she’d vibe to the song.

“Wait I’m really vibing with this babe,” Daniela flirts, “What is this??”

“Have you never heard of Classic Rock?” You ask

She shakes her head.

“Girl, I’m about to open your ears,” You smile

As Daniela continues driving, the both of you hold your arm out of the vehicle. You let your hand ‘fly’ like the wing of a plane. 

“You sure do have taste y/n my dear,” Daniela smiles, “Play some more after this song!”

“You got it!” You smile

As you listen to the intro and the intro vocals, you decide to sing your heart out.

And you, you can be mean And I, I’ll drink all the time ’Cause we’re lovers and that is a fact Yes, we’re lovers! And that is a fact Though nothing will keep us together We could steal time just for one day

You look over and notice Daniela smiling. Not sure whether it was from the good music or your vocals. But, you were still having fun so you didn’t care about what she thought. 

Well, I care though...

We can be heroes! Forever and ever! What d’you say?

As you sing the last line in the refrain, you look at Daniela; Your right hand over your chest and your other arm reaching out to her. She laughs as she takes her free hand into yours, linking your fingers’ together. 

Later when Daniela finally stops driving, you turn down the radio and look out to a gothic coffee shop.

“Welcome to my favorite place to be,” Daniela smiles

“Oh my goodness,” you say

“What is it love?” Daniela asks, getting out of her car

“I’ve just never been here before,” You say, “This place suits you super well.”

You follow Daniela into the coffee shop and you follow her into a spot, seemingly she normally seats herself in whenever she would come in here.

“How long have you’ve been a regular?” You ask

“About a couple of years now,” She answers you, “Sometimes I’d even skip class for this place.”

“Would you now,” You chuckle, “Maybe I’d skip with you one of these days.”

“Since when are you a rebel?” She asks, giggling

“Since meeting you love,” You smile

“Everyone falls for me in time,” Daniela flirts

“Not me,” You smile, "Somewhat."

"Somewhat?" She asks, taking somewhat offense to your comment

"Like, I've noticed you in the halls at school, but you've never really captivated me until the senior art showcase." You explain, "But hey, you got me now right? Better late than never."

"You're right," she smiles

During the outing, your focus was concentrated on a book.

"Whatchu doing?" Daniela asks, trying to see what you were so focused on

"That is for me to know and for you to find out," you smile

Once the both of you were back on the road, you notice the sun beginning to set.

"Hey I know an amazing place to watch the sunset," you smile, "You want to come along?"

She smiles as she nods to your suggestion. She follows your direction and the two of you end up on the cliffside near the outskirts of town.

"Come on Dani hurry!" You say, breaking into a run towards an open spot along the cliffs

Daniela walks over to you as you gaze out to the wilderness below. Along with the sunset going below the horizon.

"Welcome to my favorite spot," you smile, "Where I go whenever I'd feel at my low, I'd come here, take in the scenery."

"By yourself?" She asks

"Well, yeah," you sigh, "But, if you'd like to come on adventure outings with me I'd love your company."

"I'd like to y/n," she smiles

"By the way, do you have a record player?" You ask out of the blue

"Yeah why?" She asks

"You'll see," you smile, “Also, I’m about to send you a playlist I made of all the classics I loved listening to growing up.”

You send it to her, “You don’t necessarily need to listen to them right away. It’s for whenever you feel like it.”

Mid-Winter In the next month, Daniela had been your ride to school and in the next week, during finals, came Daniela's birthday. Daniela told you how her mother is throwing her a huge birthday dinner and how she won't be able to spend her birthday with you.

"Hey it's okay Dani," you smile, "Besides, I got you this."

You hand her a wrapped folder-looking present.

"I gotta go to band," you smile, "I'll see you on Monday."

You step up onto your toes and gently place a kiss on Daniela's cheek. You turned your heel before you could see Daniela's reaction. You also didn't see how some flock of girls noticed your cheek kiss gift to Daniela. She looks down at her present and unwrap it; a Rare David Bowie "Heroes" Promo Vinyl and a card. Once she opens the card, a senior photo of you falls into her palm.

"This is one of my most prized Vinyl's," Daniela reads aloud on the back of the photo, "But, I'd want my favorite gal to have it since you love it as much as I do."

Daniela squeals of happiness and gently hugs her her newly added vinyl to her collection. She runs over to her locker to place it in there for the rest of the 

"That girl will get in our way," one of the popular girls snarl

"We have to do something about this," another one says

During lunch you were minding your own business, it was a rare occasion that you'd be in the cafeteria. You look up when you saw 3 torsos in your peripherals

"Stay away from Daniela," one of the popular girls comes up to you, "She's ours. Not yours."

Daniela perks her head up to her name being called. 

"I'm sorry?" You ask, "sorry not sorry I attracted the coolest girl in school by flexing on an instrument. At least she sees something in me that has potential, I don't know why you three gawk over her when you have nothing to show off to her for."

One of the girls opens her basic white girl coffee and splashes it into your face and clothes. You burst out of the cafeteria, back into the band room, not caring about if Daniela saw.

"That'll teach her," she snickers

"What the hell was that?!" Daniela asks, snarling at them

"Hi Daniela," one of them tries to play it off, flirtatious-sounding

"Don't you 'hi Daniela' me," Daniela yells, "Answer. My. Question. What the hell was that?!"

"She’s taking you away from us," one of the girls blurts out

"I'm not even into any of you!" She growls at them, "Don't even flock around me anymore. And if I see you three doing so in the slightest, I will make sure you get the same treatment you treated y/n.."

She takes her backpack and runs into your direction. Of course it was into the band room. She manages to find you in your same practice room however, it was dark. She opens the door and sits next to you. Daniela then opens her backpack and takes out a pair of leggings and a hoodie.

"You okay?" She asks

She looks away when you change your pants in a hurry then stripping down into her hoodie. The smell of lemon and mint eased your senses.

"Yeah," you lean against her shoulder, "Thanks for the extra pair of clothes..."

"No worries," she says, "I'm sorry for them. I didn't even realize that they would do such a thing..."

"No it's okay," you say, "It's not you who should be apologizing. But those three never will. So I'll be over it in time."

The both of you leaned on each other until the bell rang. However, you were about to leave for class until you felt Daniela snake her arm around your waist.

"Class can wait," Daniela says, "I'm staying with you..."

You feel your cheeks heat up as you lean your head back onto Daniela's shoulder. You take out your phone, thank the gods it didn’t get stained with coffee and plug in your earbuds. You put one into your left ear and offer the other one to Daniela to put into her right ear. She takes it, places it into her right ear and you begin playing the first song that came up.

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” - Arctic Monkeys

“You like them too?” Daniela smiles, trying to lighten the mood

“I do,” You smile, but looking in the empty void of the practice room

“Well, we have one group we both like,” She smiles

After school you explained to your band teacher why you didn't show up to class, thankfully your band teacher is lenient and excused you for mental health reasons. You and Daniela decide to get dinner together per Daniela's suggestion. She wanted to make it up to you for letting that cafeteria incident happen earlier in the day and for you to celebrate her birthday with her a day early. You didn't want to go anywhere fancy so Daniela gets the both of you food from her favorite coffee shop and takes the both of you to your cliffside spot.

"So Bela has a glass eye?" You ask, "Is that why she always has her hair covering her right eye?"

"Yeah because we like to fuck around with her and continuously steal it and hide it from her." Daniela laughs, "If you didn't know, I have two different eye colors."

She lifts her bangs to show you. You kind of look in awe before she puts her bangs back down.

"My other sister; Cassandra has a lazy eye," she says, "So basically my family is full of broken people..."

"Maybe it isn't a bad thing all the time," you say, "Having imperfections are what make you who you are really."

You roll up your right sleeve and reveal some silver scars.

"Sometimes past relationships can go awry and... Make you do things you regret," you sigh, "But hey, these were from like.... 3 years ago so I’m doing a lot better than last time."

She gently takes a hold of your arm and places many kisses along and over your silver strands. You felt your cheeks heat up once more.

"You're right," Daniela agrees, "Well, I know now you're alive to tell the stories about them. If you're comfortable with doing so."

Once again she snakes her arm around your waist and leans her head against yours.

"Your family also sounds interesting," you add

"Interestingly Chaotic," Daniela jokes

"Chaotic is more fun," you flirt

Daniela lifts her head away to look at you. You look down at her lips and lean forward. Daniela meets you halfway.

"I've decided to go to California for Musicians Institute," you say, when you pull sway from Daniela’s lips

Daniela freezes.

"Dani?" You ask, looking at her, cupping her cheeks into your hands, "What's wrong?"

She doesn't say anything but plays it off like nothing happened.

"Sorry-it's nothing," Daniela sighs

"Are you sure?" You ask, "You can trust me."

"It's okay, I'm sure," she says

"Well, whenever you're ready to talk about it," you say

Spring Seniors are itching to get out of high school. Everyone either had committed to colleges, gotten a date for prom. But you? You got yourself the top prodigy artist in the school as your girlfriend and gotten into one of the best music schools for your field of music. Best of both worlds. It was after school Daniela had slipped a note into your band locker to meet you at your guys' hangout spot at the edge of town. You park at the parking lot and see a blanket laid out near the cliffside; Daniela sitting there; noticing her red hair.

“Dani?” You call out, shutting your car door

She turns to you and you could easily see a smile across her face as you catch up to her.

“Hey you,” you smile, sitting right next to her, “What are we doing out here?”

You look out to the cliffside; the forestry and the giant lake in view. Your favorite place to be when you want to be alone; has officially turned into a place you want to be, with Daniela. 

“y/n, when we met that night, I’ve felt something in me that I have never felt with any other girl,” Daniela confesses

You felt your heart beginning to thump in your chest. 

Why was she beginning to confess everything now?

She turns to you and you notice a small instrument in her hands; a ukulele. You watch her left arm make a chord; it was pretty... 

Tear in my Heart?...

Sometimes you gotta bleed to know

Daniela easily struggles to make the chords and sing at the same time. However, you weren’t paying attention enough to know she’s struggling.

But it takes someone to come around To show you how

You watch her attempt to sing to you... For the first time ever, you were so touched. 

“Fuck,” She growls

She stops after realizing she’ll never finish the song properly however, you reach out to her and engulf her in a hug.

“You learned how to play ukulele? For me?” You ask

“It’s-it’s not perfect but- but I really wanted to impress you,” She confesses, “But, I’m still working on figuring out how to sing and play this thing at the same time.. I’m sorry it’s bad...”

“Dani, it wasn’t bad,” You smile, “I’m so touched... You took the time out to do this for me. If I’m going to confess something, remember when you and I went out to your favorite coffee shop and I ‘wasn’t paying attention’ to you?” 

She nods, “How could I forget?”

You reach into your backpack and take out your own sketchbook. You flip to your bookmarked page and reveal that you had done a graphite drawing of Daniela. 

“It’s not perfect either but-”

Before you could continue, Daniela leans her head towards yours and places her lips gently onto yours. When she pulls away to look at you, you open your eyes and begin processing what Daniela had done. However, your hands put down the sketchbook and cup Daniela’s cheeks and your lips crash onto hers. You climb into her lap and she snakes her arms around your waist.

“Dani,” You call her name, breathlessly

The both of you pull away to breathe and you could see the smile sweep across her face. 

“You learned how to draw? For me?” She asks the same exact question you asked her

“Technically I know how to draw but, I can’t draw as well as you,” You smile

“You kidding?” Daniela asks, reaching for your sketchbook, “you got my eyes- the Blue and green, the choker I always wear, my hair including the little hairs on my shaved side, beanie detail... You did it all babe.”

“I did?” You ask, in awe

She smiles as she nods at you. You give her another kiss before finally the question you had comes to mind.

"Now what is it that you really got me out here for?" You ask

"y/n y/l/n, would you like to go to prom with me?" She asks

"Yes Dani, a million times yes!" You happily say

You kiss her again before the both of you decide to talk on prom outfits.

"I was thinking we could match the color of your choker," you suggested

"We could," she smiles, "I'm down. One condition; I'm wearing the suit."

"No complaints there love," you smile

After the both of you settled a day to get your prom outfits, the both of you just begin to watch the sunset.

"When are you moving again?" Daniela asks

"End of August," you reply, "I'll be sure to come visit or if you're able, come visit me."

"I'll take you up on that offer," Daniela smiles, still trying to hide how sad she is that you’ll be moving soon

The two of you went to prom however, got so bored the both of you decided to ditch it and make your own prom. The both of you ended up staying at Daniela's place for the first time for yourself at least.

"Is this is girl that swept my daughter off her feet?" Her mother comes in

"Yes mother," Daniela smiles, kissing your temple

"Oh aren’t you a dream,” She compliments, “Daniela has told us so much about you.”

“Mother!” Daniela yelps, hiding her heated cheeks

“Oh, is that so Ms. Dimitrescu?” You ask, looking at Daniela, who was clearly blushing

Summer You pretty much got instantly accepted into the family. You’ve spent most of your summer with them. 

“Do you have to go?” Daniela asks, her arms wrapped around you like a sloth

“I do,” You say, “I told you before, it’ll be okay, we’ll make this work.”

“I know,” She sighs, “But, what if we let the long distance get the best of us?”

“It won’t baby, not as long as we make the communication thing happen. That’s key.”

“I- just...” Daniela stutters

“You just what?” You ask, propping yourself on your elbows, looking down at her

“I have separation anxiety,” Daniela confesses, “I don’t want you to go, I want you to stay here... But, I don’t want you to stay here just for me...”

“Dani...” You say, “I would stay here for you if I could.”

Your fingers caress her cheek as she leans into the palm of your hand. 

“Don’t stay here for me,” She says, “I- Just don’t forget about me...”

“Dani babe, How could I ever forget about the girl that I attracted? Saved my skin from three petty girls? Especially the girl that did some music for me, regardless if she had no prior music experience. I could never forget you my love.”

You drop your head down to give her a long, lingering kiss.

“Plus, if I had the choice, I’d take you with me in a heartbeat,” You smile, pulling away

Daniela smiles as she wraps her arm around your neck to drag your face down to hers. 

3 Months Later... You knock on the door to the Dimitrescu Estate and notice Bela had opened the door.

“Is Daniela here?” You ask Bela

“Daniela, your girlfriend is here!” Bela calls from the front door

“You want to come in or what? It’s cold.” She smiles, “Welcome back.”

Daniela practically jumps down the stairs as soon as she sees your face appear in the doorway.

“Baby!” Daniela screams happily as she picks you up to give you a big bear hug

You hug her tightly as she spins you around all excitedly. The two of you share a kiss before hearing Bela and Cassandra jokingly barf at your PDA.

“Welcome home honey,” Alcina smiles, giving you a giant hug, “How is California?”

“Insane,” You sigh, “It’s a whole different world.. But, I’ve been video chatting with your daughter every night.”

“Daniela has been almost moping about every night after the two of you video chat and-”

“Mother!” Daniela interrupts before taking you gently by the arm and dragging you right back out of the front door

The both of you headed to Daniela’s signature coffee shop to catch up. Despite it only being 3 months you’ve moved to California for your music career.

“I’ve finally gotten around to listening to your playlist since you left,” Daniela confesses

“I’ve sent you that like ages ago,’ You slightly chuckle, “But, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I practically listen to it wherever I go; drives, around campus, even at my apprenticeship.” Daniela explains, “Clients are loving my girlfriend’s taste in music.”

“Awwww,” You blush, “I’ve began taking some other music genres to practice bass. Well, taking them from my professor when he assigns video assignments.”

“So, what is it you want to do when you play your bass?” Daniela asks

“Oh?” You ask her, “Well, I’ve been to many concerts and I really love how all of the musicians would be performing on stage to millions of people. I want to do that too.”

“Who do you have in mind?” Daniela asks

“That depends on who’s hiring,” You say, “But, If you really wanted to get answers out of me; Waterparks, Panic! At the Disco... To name a few.”

“Those are some big bands,” Daniela leans back into her seat, “But, I know you’ll be able to do it. And when you do, I’ll come to every single show; make one of those giant posters where it says: ‘my girlfriend is the bassist!’.. That kind of thing.”

Your face heats up and you shove your face into a mug of coffee. Daniela lets out a peppy-giggle and lifts her head so her face is toward the ceiling.

“Lets drive,” She suggests

“I’d thought you’d never ask,” You smile

As soon as the both of you had gotten into Daniela’s car, she puts a couple of fingers under your chin to gently pull your face towards hers, the both of your lips molding to each others’. You flip on the radio and put in your playlist. The familiar riff of the first song the both of you had listened to together. 

[a-nice-and-interpretive-fanzine]

[ID: A cream-colored banner that says "A Nice and Interpretive Fanzine: essays and art about the meanings we've found in Good Omens." There is a photo of a book page with a key on it behind the banner text. The photo source is rosy_photo on Pixabay. /end ID]

A Nice and Interpretive Fanzine: Information Masterpost

Welcome!

This is a zine for those of us who love the subtle, complex work that is Good Omens, and who’ve enjoyed the thoughtfulness of the fandom as people interpret how the many moving pieces of the story come together, creating a slightly different meaning for each of us.

To put it simply, it’s a book full of the fandom’s own analysis and commentary about the Good Omens TV show, enhanced with illustrations from our brilliant artists.

This zine is analytical in the sense that all the writers are expressing their own nonfiction thoughts and feelings about the show, rather than writing fanfic, but it is not meant to be heavily academic. Anybody who likes to pick apart the series and discuss it should be able to enjoy it.

The zine will contain essays by fans who are passionate about analyzing and interpreting different parts of Good Omens - the characters, the plot, the writing techniques for the book and script, the cinematography of the TV show, the popular content of the fandom itself. Accompanying these essays will be black and white illustrations from our artists.

How are you organizing this process?

May 1-May 15: Everyone submits their application to do writing or art through a Google form. Behind the scenes, I’ll be setting up a separate email and Discord.

May 16-20: Applicants will be screened during this time.

May 20: I’ll email everyone to let them know the outcomes of their applications. The final participants will get a link to the Discord server for the zine (totally optional, of course).

May 21: If there’s any clarification or solidifying of ideas that needs to happen, I’ll contact you and discuss with you by this point. This is also when artists will be matched up with essays.

May 22 to August 14: This will be a period of just working on our essays and art. The Discord chat and Tumblr will be there for support and for exchanging ideas!

August 15: Participants need to email their full works to the zine’s email address by this date. No special formatting is needed; I’ll do that in InDesign.

August 15 to August 31: I’ll be putting the zine together in InDesign.

September 1: Preorders will open.

September 30: Preorders will close.

October 1: The zine order will be placed!

October 15: Assuming all goes well with printing and shipping, the zines will be shipped out in waves starting on this date. If the printing or shipping from the manufacturer is delayed, then shipping will just start ASAP.

Writer Application HERE Artist Application HERE Asked and Answered Questions on Tumblr The Fanzine's Page on Twitter

Read below for more detailed information about the zine in a Q and A format!

What are the specifications for the zine contributions?

For writers, I’m starting with 3k words or fewer per essay (approximately 10 pages at the size of this book). This depends heavily on how many participants we actually get, so it may change!

For artists, I’d be looking at black and white works, 300 DPI, 5.5 x 8.5 inches or smaller. If your art is supposed to fill up the entire page (i.e. no white space), please make it a total of 5.75 x 8.75 inches with nothing too important around the edges to account for bleed during the printing process.

Can I submit an essay to this zine if I’ve already posted it on Tumblr?

Not as you’ve already posted it. We don’t want to just copy/paste the exact thing that hundreds or perhaps even thousands of people have already read.

However, it IS fine and maybe even a good idea to take the same thought from your post and refine it, preserving your same thesis. For example, a lot of Tumblr posts are just us fans jotting down 5 or 6 paragraphs of random thoughts at 2 AM, but some of them are really cool thoughts! Expanding them and turning them into a bona-fide Essay would make those posts into excellent zine chapters. And you can copy small pieces of your own language as long as the whole thing isn’t just pasted word-for-word.

How long do essays have to be? Is there a limit?

With the number of writers we have, I've calculated that each person should ideally keep their essay to about 6000 words. There is wiggle room.

There’s no real minimum for your contribution; some analytical ideas are really good but can be expressed concisely, so it’s okay if your essays only come out to a few pages typed. For reference, with our book size, a page is about 300 words.

What happens if the zine sells a lot and you end up not only breaking even, but turning a profit?

It’ll go to charity. While I’ll ask the participants what they want to do for certain if we do make enough money, my suggestion will be donating it to Alzheimer’s Research UK in honor of Sir Terry Pratchett.

I’m not really comfortable calling this a “charity zine” up front since I simply don’t know if it will raise a significant amount. For the most part, I just want the thing to physically exist, which means breaking even, and don’t want to make it more expensive for buyers than it needs to be to afford the printing costs.

What kinds of essays are you talking about? What could be included?

In short, any analytical thoughts about the Good Omens TV show - and possibly even the fandom as it interacts with the show - are possible inclusions for the zine.

To expand a bit, think about the meta posts you see floating around Tumblr. Often these involve analyzing characters, or picking up on patterns in the plot. Sometimes fans use their own background knowledge to write posts about the significance of certain costume choices or the way music plays into each individual scene. Some posts examine the ways the series approaches gender, while others might discuss ways that the characters present as neurodivergent. That’s how diverse the pool of possibilities is for subjects in this zine.

How does art come into this?

Images will be black and white, to match the bookish mood of the project overall. Images can range in size from a half page to a full page.

I’m planning to talk to the artists and authors and loosely pair artists with essays that appeal to their personal interests.

I know how to illustrate a story, but how do I illustrate an essay?

There are infinite answers to this! I’ve seen some beautiful symbolic artwork in the fandom already (e.g. a number of takes on Aziraphale munching on an apple with Crowley in snake form curving around him), and there are tons of symbolic motifs to draw from, but these are not the only options. An artist illustrating an essay about cinematography, for example, could draw a well-known scene from an alternative angle. An essay about Heaven as a capitalist corporation could be illustrated with a cartoon of Gabriel giving some sort of excruciating PowerPoint presentation. A character analysis could be accompanied by a simple portrait. And on and on. I’m not interested in limiting the possibilities by trying to make a list, but just know that there are many and you don’t have to make it complicated if you don’t want to.

If the writers can reuse their essay ideas, can artists reuse their drawings?

Similarly to the writers, if you already have an interpretive drawing that you’re in love with, artists can use the same ideas and the same fundamental composition that is present in their own existing work. However, it has to be redone in some significant way. Whether it’s taking something you drew in 2019 and redrawing it using an updated style, taking a sketch and turning it into a lined and shaded piece, or redoing a full-color drawing so it presents more strikingly in black and white, it shouldn’t be identical to the thing you’ve already posted.

So how are you choosing participants here?

It’ll be based on what people are interested in writing about (or illustrating). I’ll be looking for people who are passionate about their essays, but I’ll also be looking for variety. It all depends on what people want to offer, so I won’t know for sure what it will look like put together until everyone’s application is in.

For artists, I’ll be trying to figure out whose style looks like it would adapt well to illustrations in black and white, and also who demonstrates an interest in the same subjects as the writers.

If we don’t get a lot of applicants, I’d love to simply include everyone, but I can’t commit to that without knowing for sure how many people are involved.

Do I have to use a formal writing style to participate?

No. You should use a style that makes your thoughts and ideas as clear as possible, but as long as it’s understandable, you can also get a little artistic with it. You can “write like you speak,” though perhaps in a more organized way. You definitely don’t need to worry about stylistic rules like not using the first person. This is not academia.

Is this zine going to center only on Crowley and Aziraphale?

That remains to be seen! It depends on what ideas show up in the applications. There will be a lot of the ineffable partners for sure, but whether the whole zine will center on them or whether there’s plentiful stuff about other characters will depend on what the participants suggest.

Do we have to agree with all your personal interpretations of Good Omens to be in the zine?

No! In fact, I’m assuming that a number of essays will contradict each other, too, and that’s perfectly okay. The zine is a sampler of fan interpretations meant to inspire, not instruct. It’s not “Here’s a fan-made guide on how to understand this TV show,” it’s “Look at all these moving parts and how many meanings we can find in them. What does it mean to you?”

However, there are some basic rules and assumptions by which I’m working here.

I don’t personally have the energy to include essays that are highly critical (“negative”) in this zine. It’s analytical but also meant to be fun.

I’m pretty focused on the TV adaptation. This isn’t “no book analysis allowed” but just that the essays will end up being weighted toward subjects that apply to either the TV show or both the book and the show.

Each writer should focus on making their own points over disproving other fan interpretations. If you’re writing in an expository style, it’s normal for the essay to contain rebuttals to opposing ideas, but these should be minor supporting points, not the heart and soul of your essay. For reference, I’d say the majority of meta I see floating around on tumblr would follow this rule just fine.

Essay ideas that seem to contain bigoted or exclusionary sentiments will not be accepted (no TERFy stuff, for example).

What kinds of editing will go into the zine? Are you going to argue with us about the contents of our writing?

While I might ask you to elaborate on certain points in your writing or clarify your thoughts about your subject, I’m absolutely not here to ask you to change the thesis, opinions, or headcanons on which your writing is based. If I really have a problem with your initial idea, I’ll tell you that up front and politely decline the contribution.

While formatting the zine, I’ll make minor edits if I think I see a typo or misspelling, something small and obviously unintentional. As with any other zine, your content won’t be changed without consulting you.

Is this a SFW zine?

Yes. If people want to discuss sexuality in a theoretical way, like erotic subtext, that would be allowed. There are canon references like Newt and Anathema’s moment under the bed that might come up, too. But there will be nothing explicit, and since these are essays instead of stories, there will be no “action” going on between characters. Let’s just say sex isn’t a forbidden topic, but it will be like discussing it in English class.

As for other topics that could make the zine NSFW, like gore or extreme language, I don’t think they will be an issue. Some dark topics, like abuse by Heaven and Hell, may be discussed, but they will be warned for, and these are not stories, so you aren’t going to see violent actions playing out.

Will there be any “extras” like charms or stickers?

I’m not sure yet. I’m most inclined to keep it simple, because of the nature of the zine, but would be open to including some bonus items if there’s an artist who’s really passionate about it.

With that said, I am pretty committed to making a hardcover edition of the book available, in addition to the standard softcover version.

You’re doing this with only one mod?!

Yes. I personally find it easiest. While I’ve worked on multi-mod projects in other domains and adore all of my co-mods, it’s a little bit different when it’s a project with this many moving pieces that includes real-life components like printing and shipping. Though there are a lot of individual things to be done, I am experienced with all of them, so it’s less overwhelming to just take on the whole project. That way, I know exactly what needs to be done and when, and there are no issues with assigning tasks.

What qualifies you to run this zine?

The résumé answer: in fandom, I successfully solo-modded a large not-for-profit zine in the past, the @soulmakazine2018, and while I can’t speak for the whole fandom, it definitely seemed to be well-received. <3 In real life, I’m a case manager and this involves coordinating and communicating with a lot of different people including my 100-person caseload, budgeting services, and filling out all kinds of paperwork on the fly, all skills that can be imported into zine work.

The practical answer: well, I’m the one who decided to start this project, so if you like the sound of it, you're stuck with me. I say with encouragement and enthusiasm that if you’d like to do a different take on a commentary zine, you should absolutely do it.

[lambden]

Here’s some belated Geraskier fic that I finally get to post, as last week’s flash fic challenge has wrapped up! This was originally published anonymously; kudos to those of you who guessed that I was the author. Head to the collection to see the picture prompt that inspired this, as well as view the other works. I've been having a great time participating in fandom events like this; I promise there's more on the way!!! (Read on AO3)

Up To Date

prompt: "You were so hot that when you asked if I was the blind date you were looking for, I lied and said yes. But then your actual date comes up to introduce themselves and I'm so embarrassed."

G, 2.3K words, modern AU, Geralt/Jaskier

It shouldn’t be this difficult to find inspiration. He never used to struggle like this in high school, finding his muse in everyone and everything. Even his mundane trip on the city bus to and from school would give Jaskier hundreds of ideas, for poems too personal to publish or lyrics too deep for his band to use. Back then he had thought he lacked discipline and experience, so the clear choice had been to take his interest in poetry one step further and go to university.

The problem, as he’s now discovering halfway through his second year, is that he maybe hates university. He loves it, of course; he loves the praise from his professors and peers, he loves learning about the history of literature and art. He even loves the academic rivalries that wax and wane every term, and the competitions that ignite a mean streak in him he didn’t know he had.

But his assignments are of worse quality than anything he’s ever written before, and try as he might, they aren’t getting any better. Putting words on the page just to meet a count is impossible for a poet, not when the space and thoughts and images are all supposed to be cohesive. Poems used to flow from him so freely he hadn’t been able to keep track and now his well of motivation has just about run dry.

That’s what led him here, for the third time this week. His creative dysfunction has forced him into the day-to-day habits of an elderly man who spends his days reading in public gardens. It hasn’t helped so far, but maybe this third time will be the charm. Jaskier finds his favorite place: right by the koi pond, next to a strange art installation with ivy crawling along it. He sits at the base of the giant question mark, dropping his backpack onto the bench beside him.

“This better fucking work,” mutters Jaskier to himself and the koi, opening today’s book to a random poem. He refuses to let his mind wander at first, gluing his eyes to the page and reading with intense intent. The first poem he sees is about love.

Groaning, Jaskier flips the page. The next poem is also about love.

The third poem is about war, and Jaskier thinks that might be alright, until he realizes what this long-dead poet is trying to tell him, which is that war is also about love. Because it is, of course, but also of course it is. Jaskier scowls deeply and flips through the book to a random page, hoping to find something to spark inspiration that won’t just make him feel hopeless and single and hopelessly single.

Before Jaskier can get through the title, someone speaks to him, startling him so badly he jumps. “Are you Yennefer’s friend?”

Jaskier scrambles to catch the book by its cover and nearly drops it. He hadn’t even heard anyone approach. “Sorry?”

The stranger audibly sighs, as if Jaskier has inconvenienced him terribly. With all the force of someone announcing their presence at their own death row, he grits out, “I’m here for a blind date she set up. With you.” Jaskier looks up at the man and sees him wearing a blank expression, pointing at the question mark in front of the bench. “By the thing.”

“Oh,” Jaskier says, still looking at the man. It takes a second for the words to sink in because the stranger is perhaps the most handsome person Jaskier has ever seen. He could write a thousand poems and still fail to capture his beauty. He has golden eyes, for one, and a sharply chiseled face. Even grimacing like this, his jaw is set in the loveliest way, and his stern brow is framed by platinum white hair, half-tied up. He’s wearing a fairly gloomy outfit for a blind date, but maybe he told whoever Yennefer is that he would be dressed in black. Regardless, he’s making it work.

The gorgeous stranger is still waiting for an answer, scowl worsening as Jaskier tries to make his decision about how the fuck to handle this. Really, there’s no decision at all— he just impulsively takes the leap. All his best ideas come when he’s stumbling forward blind anyway. “Yes,” he finally says, jumping to his feet. “Yes, um, I’m sorry, you caught me off-guard. I’m Jaskier.”

“Geralt.” They’re of a similar height, but Geralt is so much wider. Jaskier wants to climb him like ivy on a question mark. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“It’s fine! I got here a while ago. You know, can’t be too early!” Jaskier has never been early for anything in his life. He sits down again and shoves his books into his bag as quickly as he can. Geralt shifts his weight back and forth between his feet before awkwardly sitting on the bench next to Jaskier, looking out at the garden. “I’ve never done this kind of thing before,” he admits, which is true. His usual lies and schemes are much less chaotic.

Geralt doesn’t reply to that, leaving Jaskier to privately wonder about his dating life. He stares at the plants, giving the impression that he might be hideously nervous. Jaskier has no idea why someone like Geralt would be nervous about anything but it’s an awkward situation, to say the least. Right as Jaskier’s about to suggest they get out of here before Geralt’s real date shows up, the man asks, “What were you reading?”

“I was studying, sort of,” Jaskier says. “I’m a student.” Then abruptly he wonders how much Geralt knows about who he’s supposed to be, and he swallows, pulse racing.

Glancing over, Geralt’s yellow eyes meet his. There’s no obvious doubt there, just a curiosity. “What’s your major?”

“Poetry,” Jaskier grins as their conversation starts to pick up something resembling a rhythm. “What about you, are you in school?”

“No,” says Geralt, cutting his dreams of a normal date conversation short. “Are you any good? At writing poetry?”

What a weirdo. Jaskier’s heart thrums. “I’d like to think so!” This, at least, is something he knows how to talk about. Except, of course, it isn’t really the truth. “Well… recently, I’ve been in a bit of a creative rut. Just waiting for the right burst of inspiration to come along.” Perhaps this blind date that he’s stolen will suffice, but he doesn’t say that. “This place is great for that, actually. I mean, it hasn’t worked yet, but I’m sure any day those fish will sing for me.”

Geralt blinks. Jaskier feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck. He tries a different tactic, crossing his ankles and asking politely, “Are you a reader? What kind of things do you enjoy?”

“Nonfiction,” Geralt answers, slightly stilted. His gaze drifts over to the plants once more. “Not biographies, more like… encyclopedias and field journals. I like field journals.”

“Alright,” Jaskier says, shrinking into himself. This is going terribly. “I’ll have to go bribe some scientists for their field journals, then.” The corner of Geralt’s lip twitches, and Jaskier’s stomach flips. Gorgeous and weird and maybe, although he’s trying his best to hide it behind seven layers of nerves, maybe a little amused by Jaskier. Jaskier is going to fuck him right here in the garden. “Do you take journals of your own for work?”

A rather roundabout way of asking ‘what the fuck is it that you do’ but somehow, it lands. “I’m a… researcher,” Geralt mumbles. How very vague. “But I don’t publish my findings very often.”

Jaskier raises an eyebrow. “Do you work… for a company?”

“No.”

“Right. So you’re just keeping all your findings to yourself for no good reason at all.”

“No.”

“Then it sounds like you’re a pretty terrible researcher, actually.”

Geralt’s eyes flash as he turns to glare at Jaskier. “What?”

“Well, if you don’t share what you’ve found with anyone—”

“My… colleagues—”

“Aha! So you have colleagues!” Jaskier pokes Geralt’s side. “You aren’t just holed up in some depressing storage unit with months and months of research just for you.”

Once more, Geralt half-smirks. Not even half— more like a one-fifth smirk. “Years,” he admits.

“Years…” Jaskier tilts his head to the side thoughtfully. “Why do I have the feeling that you’re perhaps a significant number of years older than me?”

“I had the same thought when I saw you sitting here,” Geralt mumbles.

Jaskier snorts. “Seems like something Yennefer should have warned us about, perhaps. I would ask you directly how old you are, but I’m fairly certain that the only response I will get is a very gruff no.”

“No,” says Geralt, nearly smiling.

Making a show of pouting, Jaskier folds his arms over his chest. “Is that your favorite word?”

“No.” Geralt breaks into laughter as he repeats himself, and his whole face lights up with it. Jaskier laughs too, delighted by how joyous Geralt looks. He’s even more beautiful when he’s happy like this, and Jaskier wants very badly for this not to be their last date. “If I tell you my favorite word, you’re bound to judge me for it, as a poet.”

“As a poet, I swear not to mock you,” Jaskier raises his hand to cover his heart, barely restraining himself from grinning.

But before Geralt can share whatever it is, someone else approaches their bench. A second stranger— a woman about his height with short brown hair, wearing a pretty blouse. Jaskier notices her much more quickly than he’d noticed Geralt, and he makes the connection instantly. This can’t possibly end well.

“Oh, Yen wasn’t kidding,” says the stranger, eyeing Geralt. “You are very distinctive!”

Geralt stares back at her, slack-jawed for a moment. “What?”

“I’m Renfri,” Geralt’s date introduces herself. Jaskier wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole, especially when she glances over at him. Her gaze slides back to Geralt, as does Jaskier’s, and yeah, he is very fucking distinctive with that white hair and those yellow eyes. Damn. “My friend Yennefer set us up for a blind date…?”

As Jaskier contemplates throwing himself into the koi pond, Geralt twists to stare at him. Jaskier can only imagine how mortified he must look right now; his face burns as both Renfri and Geralt look his way. Perhaps Renfri will figure it out before Geralt says anything; she looks like a smart woman.

But Geralt just gets up, dusting himself off and shaking his head. “No,” he tells Renfri, which would almost be funny if it weren’t the weirdest thing Jaskier has ever seen anyone do. Then Geralt leaves, turning to walk away from both of them, leaving Jaskier and Renfri alone together in the garden. Renfri frowns, watching him go with obvious increasing confusion. Jaskier also jumps to his feet, equally confused but determined not to lose sight of Geralt.

He chases the man— and it does feel like a chase, Geralt must be fucking speed-walking away— and finally tracks him down well outside the garden. Geralt is thundering down a set of stairs leading to a parking lot and he doesn’t stop at the sound of Jaskier careening towards him. Only when Jaskier desperately calls his name does he finally stop, slowing until he reaches the bottom landing and then standing there, still.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier calls down the stairs, breathless. He begins to descend them but Geralt doesn’t turn around. “Fuck, you’re fast! Shit. I’m sorry, Geralt.”

Without looking his way, Geralt complains, so quietly that Jaskier nearly misses it, “Yennefer is going to kill me.”

“I would have fucked off,” Jaskier says quickly, hurrying down the rest of the steps until he gets to the bottom. Geralt still doesn’t look at him so Jaskier slides none-too-gracefully into his space, demanding his attention. He’s hardly red in the face or anything, but he looks embarrassed. Jaskier crumbles. “I’m sorry. I— seriously, I don’t care, I would have fucked off. I should’ve left, I should’ve— You should go back there, she’s beautiful!”

Geralt’s nostrils flare but he doesn’t look away. “Why did you lie,” he demands, flat.

“Well,” Jaskier deflates. “Um. You’re beautiful.”

“Hmm.”

“I really am sorry,” he offers.

Geralt, still watching him closely, says, “You don’t sound sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jaskier throws his hands in the air, breaking away from Geralt’s stare— in the greenhouse, surrounded by bright lights and open, manmade nature, it had been easy to sit under the weight of Geralt’s eyes on him. Down here, at the end of a staircase and the entrance to a dark garage, chest still heaving, it feels too intimate. He puts some distance between them, sighing. “You want me to go back there and explain the whole situation to poor Renfri?”

When Jaskier finally turns around again, Geralt’s gaze hasn’t left him. “I want you to come have dinner with me instead,” he says, slowly but purposefully.

“Oh,” breathes Jaskier. “That’s— well, if you want that.”

“I already made a reservation for two. My name’s on the list.” Geralt is fidgeting with the end of his sleeve at first but when he approaches Jaskier he drops it, striding forward without hesitating. “Table for Geralt and one young brunet friend of Yennefer’s.”

Jaskier chokes on his own surprised laugh. “I don’t actually know Yennefer,” he needlessly explains.

“She’s going to hate you,” says Geralt, half-smirking, and then he adds, “Well, she’ll hate both of us now.”

They get to the restaurant twenty minutes late, Geralt’s hair mussed up and lips a bitten red and Jaskier wearing his backpack and a shit-eating grin. The host sees them and immediately tells them their table has been cancelled, and they end up getting terrible two-dollar slices from a hole-in-the-wall pizza place. They eat on the way back to Geralt’s car and then he drives Jaskier back to campus, kissing him soundly in the door to his apartment until Priscilla comes home and yells at Jaskier to get a room. As they squabble Geralt apologizes, polite and nervous, and kisses Jaskier’s cheek and tells him it was nice to meet him.

Jaskier goes inside and spends the next thirteen hours writing the best poetry he will ever write.

[klave-fucktober]

Klave Fucktober Fest - Info Post

Hello Party People, the Hargreeves’ birthday is nigh and what’s a better present for our lovely Number Four (and us) than getting him and his main squeeze thoroughly wrecked? Without further ado...

Welcome to Fucktober! A prompt fest dedicated to creating mature fanworks for The Umbrella Academy pairing of Klaus Hargreeves/Dave Katz.

Details under the cut…

Cool! So, who is it that’s hiding behind the curtain?

Your fest runners for this event are CriseCardiac (@thistlemoth) and Teddy  (@yeah-klave), just a couple of friendly neighborhood smut enthusiasts dying for some content in these dark, dark interseasonal times. Any questions, you can find us on tumblr or, more often than not, hanging out in Elliott’s House.

Okay, how does this work?

You can submit a prompt here from now until September 17th. The submitted prompts will be posted on September 19th, on which day claiming will open and participants can begin working on their submission(s). Multiple claims are allowed on prompts, and you can claim as many as you want. Collabs are great! We don’t want to be restrictive – the idea of this fest is to encourage as much smutty Klave creation as possible: we want ALL THE SMUT.

Once you have completed your work, you can either: (1) add it to the AO3 Klave-Fucktober Collection - “Klave Fucktober 2021″; and/or (2) submit it to the Klave-Fucktober tumblr page. The AO3 Collection will go live on 30 October and any works submitted to the tumblr page will also be posted at intermittent times throughout the day on the 30th October, and, depending on the number of entries, the following days.

Alternatively, you can post your work to your own tumblr, however, if you’re doing this, we ask that you don’t post your work until 30 October, please. If you’re posting to your own tumblr, please remember to tag your work #fucktober. Also, if you tag either @klave-fucktober, @thistlemoth or @yeah-klave, one of us will reblog on the official fucktober tumblr page.

Please note, if you are creating nsfw art, you must adhere to the rules of the site you are posting your work to.

What can I prompt?

It’s a free-for-all baby! Want to see Klaus and Dave having sweet, sticky Saigon sex? Prompt it! Want to see them getting down and dirty in the jungle? Prompt it! Modern AU lazy Sunday morning lovemaking? Angsty, post-argument make-up fuck? Gender-swapped klave (i.e. our lovely Klesbians) princess/stable girl illicit love affair? Office co-workers enemies to lovers? Sex dungeon? Semi-public? Trans? Threesome? Moresome? Full on orgy? First time? Prompt it, prompt it, prompt it!!

So, in summary, as long as Klave is the main pairing and it involves some form of sex, you can prompt anything and everything. This could be as simple as a particular kink or you could submit a detailed scenario. Whatever you’ve been craving, this is your opportunity to get it out to potential nsfw Klave content creators.

Are there any exclusions?

No rape and no underage, please. And absolutely no kink-shaming.

Can I submit a prompt if I don’t plan to contribute?

Of course. As a prompt fest, there’s no commitment. Often the prompts are a gift in themselves. Your prompt may inspire something wonderful – so please, prompt away!

What can I create?

Anything you want, as long as your creation is in some way fucktastic! Write something, draw something, use those graphic-design-is-my-passion skills. Know some songs you think the boys would get down and dirty to? Make a playlist! All fannish talents are welcome and encouraged. We’re here for a fun, adult time together. Go wild.

As a note for fics: there are no word count restrictions. You can write a sexy bite-sized drabble or a slow burn epic where all that antici-- pation and build-up doesn’t come to a tingly, pulsating climax until chapter 10. Multichapter fics do not need to be completed within the fest window.

I’ve made a claim but I’m afraid I won’t finish my submission on time. What happens now?

No worries, it happens! Neither of us will run screaming after you in the night. Claiming is mostly to give us an idea of what to expect and allow your potential audience to get excited about what might be to come. Allowing multiple claims means you can be as ambitious as you want without preventing other submissions.

If you change your mind about a claim, decide to fill a different prompt instead, create something that hasn’t even been prompted, post only the first chapter, post later than the fest window – that’s all fine!

I’ve never created anything nsfw before – I’d like to participate but I’m nervous about the theme.

This is not an exclusive environment. We know there are many smut veterans out there who will be eager to participate in this event, but we also want to use this as an opportunity to encourage as many new participants to get involved as well! Whether you’re new to creating nsfw content for this pairing, or just new to creating nsfw content at all – we would LOVE for you to get involved!

There’s no getting around it, posting smut can be very daunting. Maybe you’ve always wanted to create something nsfw but have always felt too exposed or nervous to post it? Maybe you’ve created something in the past but have always thought it was not good enough or not sexy enough to share? To all you lovely people, we beckon you over, throw our arms wide and invite you to join the smut club.

Smut comes in all shapes and sizes and styles. Just like kinks. Just like people. Everyone has different tastes and preferences – there is no right or wrong way to create smut. What works for one person might not work for another, but that’s part of the fun of it!

So whatever your previous smut experience level, we would love for you to take part. And remember, if you’ve got any questions, concerns or you just need a little positive encouragement, you can always reach out to one of the event runners – we’re very friendly and we’re both smut-writers, so we’d be happy to chat with you. Feel free to drop us an ask or a DM.

Any warnings?

This is an open prompt fest, where just about anything goes, so please be aware of this when reading prompts and fills.

We ask our creators to tag all works accordingly, so nobody gets any nasty surprises, i.e. any potential triggers, unusual kinks or non-klave pairings (particularly any sibling ships). However, we caution everyone to read/view/participate at their own risk.

I am underage, can I participate?

Sorry, but no. This is a smut fest, 18+ only please.

The Timeline

Sept 4th -  Prompting begins

Sept 17th (noon PST/ 7pm UTC) - Prompting ends

Sept 19th (midnight PST/ 7am UTC) - Claiming opens

Oct 30th (Devil’s Night) - The revelry, I mean posting, starts!