#and instead they said the most utterly insane thing possible

[catticry]

‘Are those things really you? And if not, then what is?’

TMA OC + Statement | The stranger | Gosha (Tomasz Olbrych)

Tomasz Olbrych, lead singer of the 5 person band ‘Gosha’. Grew up as a kid with a love for singing, but a fear of performing for a large audience. After joining his friend’s band and becoming their lead vocalist he learnt to deal with the anxiety.

After years of successful performances with Gosha he lost himself in his stage persona and forgot who he was before their breakthrough. When he gets called in to fill in for a band last minute, he encounters a team of strange make-up artists who make sure his face is ready for the show…

Statement of Tomasz Olbrych, or Gosha, regarding his performances with his likewise named band.

Statement begins.

I used to hate performing when I was a kid. Ironic, isn't it? Considering where I am now, performing my music live in front of an even bigger audience than that little kid could have ever begun to imagine. It wasn't the acting, the singing nor the dancing I hated, it was the performance itself. In fact, I loved to sing and play my guitar back then too. I liked to do it when I was by myself, alone in my room without any prying eyes from people who had opinions. When I did plays at school, I'd always try to get the most insignificant role of the performance possible, or a task somewhere behind the scenes where the audience could not see me. I felt safer behind the thick red curtain instead of on the wide open stage. 

I could only avoid participating in our shows so many times before a teacher started to notice. Everyone was expected to put in the work and perform their piece, they said. It didn’t matter how much I begged for them to exclude me, they wouldn't hear it. They’d nudge me forward and put me on the spot for everyone else to see.

That’s what I hated- all of those expectant eyes staring at me… wanting to be entertained. Surely enough the day came where the school had its little theatre show. Family members of my classmates and I flooded through the large doors to take their seats, ready to watch their children perform. Some kids acted out a short scene in homemade costumes, some of them danced to loud music in groups, and some of them showed off their skills on their favourite musical instruments. 

My teacher had convinced me to play on my electric guitar and sing a simple song for our audience - despite my unenthusiasm. Something about ‘stepping outside of your comfort zone’. As I heard the teacher announce my name, I started to feel nauseous and short of breath. My hands trembled as I waited behind the curtain. I couldn’t do this, I wanted to go home! I turned to leave, but I was already ushered forward onto stage by kids behind me who were waiting for their own turns.

I stumbled forward. The stage lights directed towards the microphone were blinding and so hot they made my face break out in sweat. In a panic my eyes darted around the audience to find my mother, but I couldn't make out any of their faces against the harsh light. The fact I knew the crowd was there and that I could feel their eyes boring into me expectantly, but I couldn’t actually see them do it didn't make me feel any better. My throat closed up and my fingers curled around my guitar in a tense fist. I tried to fight back the stinging sensation I felt behind my eyes, but it was useless. They wanted to see a show... and I couldn't give them one.

It was humiliating to cry on stage in front of every kid in my year, including their family members and all of my teachers. I ran off stage as soon as I felt the tears run down my cheeks and hurried to lock myself in the bathroom. 

That memory still keeps me up at night sometimes. That feeling of standing on stage, feeling so utterly wrong it hurts you at the very core of your being, while everyone stares at you like you’re insane for feeling that way.

It took me a long time to get over that feeling. If it hadn’t been for my roommate Daniel Gater who asked me to join his band when we were in our early twenties, I wouldn’t have been where I am now. I had my doubts when he first asked me, but it turned out I was a great fit for the band’s alternative style and joined them quickly after a few try-out sessions. I was the lead singer, Daniel was our guitarist, he was backed up by his boyfriend Nick Horton on the piano. Then there was our friend Joanne Avery on drums and Ezra Sampson from our school year, who was our bassist. When I played with them I felt composed, that sense of unease I felt on stage started to drift off into the background. We called ourselves ‘Gosha’ at Joanne’s request, she thought it was fun to combine our names together into one catchy band name. I didn’t really care for it, but the others were enthusiastic, so ‘Gosha’ it was.

We played together for years, eventually we got good enough to get small gigs. Sometimes people would come up to us after we finished to tell us they liked our music, or to book us for some other event. The band usually nudged me forward to talk to these people. I was the lead vocalist after all, the face of our band and the first thing people focused on when they saw us together.

We started breaking through when we were in our late twenties. At that point we decided to put some more effort into our stage presence. Daniel had always been a fan of dramatic make-up and flashy clothing so he suggested we try that. The idea of being on a stage dressed in bright clothing with make-up on my face made me a little nervous, it would surely draw extra attention. We got together and gave it a shot. Nick set me in front of a mirror and painted my face with a white face paint, and my eyes in a deep dark red. I saw my own face disappear in the mirror as he caked it with the dramatic make-up. As I watched him do his work in the mirror, I became an entirely different person in front of my very eyes. I thought it looked crazy at first, but that’s actually what I liked about it. There was absolutely nothing about this face that looked like me. This was the face of the band, the one people would think of first when talking about Gosha. I felt this surge of confidence. He was a new person who could play and sing and dance without being burdened by the weight of the audience's expectations. On stage I could be Gosha, at home I was just Tomasz.

We got a manager, Lila Price, and started playing more frequently, at bigger venues and for a larger audience. We’d even go on tours throughout the UK. The nights were long, we’d perform an entire show and then go to parties for the remainder of the night. The new lifestyle was… tough to keep up with. That’s what made me start drinking. I felt it helped me let loose on stage and give the audience the unforgettable performance they were hoping for.

Once I was out of my make-up and hunched over the toilet bowl for the entirety of the next day, I’d regret my decisions. I finally had time to myself at home and I made myself spend it in my bathroom. I wasn’t really happy when I was off stage either… my band and I didn’t hang out much outside of performances and I didn’t have any friends besides them. I’d sit in my bedroom alone and crave the attention I got when I was on stage. But those people didn’t care for Tomasz, they cared for Gosha.

One day I got a call from our manager, she told me a venue had contacted her to ask us to do a gig that very night. She gave me the details: the venue was quite new, I don't remember their name... it was something Russian I think. Apparently some band had to cancel last minute and they wanted us to fill in for them. I tried to protest, to say that a few hours wasn't enough time for us all to be ready, but she hung up on me before I could even begin to decline the offer. I hurried to call her back but it went straight to voicemail. This was so unlike her, she’d never arrange last minute gigs for us like this! After some time cursing to myself and collecting my things, I set out to drive to the location she sent me.

Sure enough, the evening rolled around and I arrived at the venue. The building looked fine. It was big, grey and unremarkable and I could see some damp stains on the outside brickwork. I saw the van we usually transport our gear in parked near the back entrance, so I figured they were probably already inside and waiting for me. I didn’t see anyone queuing up in front of the building's entrance, so I headed for the doors to register myself at the desk and hopefully find Lila.

To my relief, she was right there at the front desk talking to the woman behind it. Lila was quite short with long brown hair and usually wore her signature blue blazer, but today she seemed to have picked a more flamboyant and colourful option. She turned towards me and smiled when I greeted her. She told me everything was already set for my performance and started to lead me down the hallway that led into the backstage area. I found she was strangely upbeat for such a rushed evening, but I followed along regardless. Her unmoving optimism was so intense that I’d feel bad if I’d messed it up. I wanted to bring up how frustrated I was, but something about her voice, her smile, the way she moved just… made me feel uneasy. It was like her motions were a little too slow some times, and a little too fast the other. I brushed my feelings off and just thanked her for getting us the gig on short notice.

I expected to see my mates when I stepped into the backstage room, but they weren’t there. Lila reassured me that she already ‘took care of them’ and promptly turned around and left. What did she even mean by that? That was the moment where the frustration started to creep up on me again. It had already been a horrible few days full of hangovers, and now I was in this unfamiliar venue without any clue of what to do. 

I got out my phone and dialled Daniel's number to ask where everyone was, but he did not pick up. I did my best to get here last minute while unclear on what the plan was, and they couldn’t even pick up when I called? I sat down on a slightly uncomfortable chair and decided to wait, the show didn’t start in a few hours anyway, we still had to do soundchecks too. Luckily the backstage room had drinks ready so I helped myself to… a few. It got me to calm down somewhat.

Soon after I was startled by the door swinging open with a loud thud from the handle hitting against the wall. I craned my head from my snoozing position on the chair to see who had entered so energetically. Lila was standing there in the doorway, and next to her stood two tall people who I did not recognise. They barged in without saying a word and started emptying their bags onto the vanity mirror. Behind them followed Lila who answered my questions before I could open my mouth. My make-up artists, she said. I stood up and shook my head. No, we did not have make-up artists. We applied it ourselves every show!

She told me to not worry and reassured me I was in good hands with that same optimistic smile from before. I grunted in response. At this point the evening had already been a confusing mess, so I didn’t have any words for her anyway. Lila left me backstage with these two artists I had never met before. Something about them made me feel uneasy. They were intimidating and slightly lanky. Both of them wore colourful make-up and bright clothing that looked like it was a few sizes too large for their bodies. Despite my nerves, I held out my hand for them to shake but instead of the introduction I expected, the taller one yanked me forward by my wrist. I stumbled into the vanity chair and they spun it around theatrically until I was face to face with myself in the mirror. My heart jumped, it was completely uncalled for after all!

I told them off for it, there was no need to be so aggressive about this! I was going to comply if my manager had arranged this for me somehow. I turned to snap at the taller one, but as I did I saw their face up close for the first time. It was… smooth. Unrealistically smooth. Like their skin was stretched taut over their skull without any creases in it. Make-up was plastered all over it, and at this distance I could see their faces were not what they looked like at first glance. Their eyes, their nostrils, even their smiles were painted on. It was at this moment that I realised that neither of them had spoken a single word to me so far. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, the way those eyes stared at me… or rather how they didn’t, rendered me speechless. 

When they noticed my attitude towards them change, the taller one rushed to hold me down. The shorter one held up a tube of face paint to me in the mirror. My eyes darted from their face to the tube. Something about their expression made my heart sink. They held it up like it was some sort of torture tool they were about to use on me. The taller person’s fingers sank into my shoulder blades like needles, pinning me to the chair. Before I could scream, the shorter one yanked my head backwards and clamped my jaw shut. I tried to wrestle myself free, to scream for help, but it was no use. I gasped for air when I saw the short one hold up the sponge with the white paint and began to apply it to my face forcefully.

It wasn’t like any paint I’d used before. I felt a burning sensation wash over the areas they applied it to. At first I thought I was having some kind of allergic reaction to it, but that wasn’t it. It was as if my very skin was starting to boil, like the paint was being absorbed into my skin with a scorching heat. I screamed, yelled for them to stop or for someone to come help me, but it was no use. I was sure they were going to kill me, that my face was melting away like hot wax dripping down a melting statue in large gooey chunks.

The taller person increased their grip with surprising strength and looked me dead in the eyes when the shorter one finished applying the white paint. They held a finger up to their smile as the short one placed its cold bony thumbs just below my eyes and began to press. I grabbed its arms, trying to tear them away from my face but it was unmoving, like it had been bolted in place. I thought they were attempting to poke out my eyes, but when I saw the scene reflected into the vanity mirror, I saw they were applying the finishing touch to my make-up look… the dark red eye paint. They pressed harshly, etching the paint into my face. The sight of their unfaltering smile was the last thing I saw before the pain made me faint.

I woke up on the floor hours later… at least I assume it was, because as soon as I opened my eyes, Lila came in angrily gesturing to me about how I should be on stage already. I couldn’t really hear what she was saying. I felt disorientated. I looked around for the two… things that hurt me, but they were nowhere to be seen. I glanced at myself in the mirror, expecting to see my face burnt and bloody, but it was… normal, and the paint looked great. There wasn’t any injury to take note of whatsoever. I was starting to think I had dreamt the whole thing… maybe I drank too much and passed out on the floor after doing my make-up myself? Quickly, Lila began to usher me towards the stage door. I was still feeling nauseous and confused so I just complied without question. If everyone was already on stage, I couldn’t turn around and leave. There were people out here waiting for me… waiting for Gosha to start the show.

I stepped on the stage, mustering up all of the theatrical enthusiasm I could find within myself at the time. The air in the venue was thick and humid and smelt like the smoke from the haze machine. The bright stage lights hurt my eyes and they were so hot on my face I could feel sweat drip down my face. It reminded me of that awful dream. I greeted the audience enthusiastically, like I usually did at our shows. The large crowd roared with excitement. I was surprised to see how big the room was. The building had looked sizable from the outside, but I had never thought the room would be big enough to have several balconies. From what I could see every seat was taken. This made me feel another pang of nerves. Sure, I had played for large crowds, but I had never played for this many people before. I had to give this my all, I couldn’t disappoint them. 

I jumped at the sudden sound of a drum and a riff off an electric guitar. I spun around to see my bandmates. I forgot we hadn’t actually met for a soundcheck tonight, but they were all set up and ready, smiling at me enthusiastically. Everything was so off. Their faces, their limbs, that dream… had it even been a dream? I was uncomfortable. Nothing made sense, but the crowd was looking at me expectantly. I felt their eyes bore into me, into my very being. I knew it, even though I couldn’t see their faces because of the lights. Despite my confusion- I had to deliver. Gosha had to deliver. I couldn’t let them know I was underprepared, I couldn’t let them know I was scared.

My band started playing our opening song, starting out with just one instrument. Nick played a steady rhythm on the piano to hook the audience and to introduce them to our sound. I followed his lead and started singing the lyrics to our song on autopilot as more instruments joined in. Ignoring my uneasiness, I put on a show as the music started picking up. We sounded so alive, and the audienced loved it. I could see they adored us. They cheered wildly for Gosha, several people even tried to reach up to the stage to touch me. Would they have wanted to touch me if I wasn’t on this stage and not in my make-up and costume? Would they want to when I was just Tomasz on the bathroom floor and at my worst?

No. Of course not. They did not love me, they loved Gosha. And I was here to play him for them.

That’s when I heard it- the saxophone. I was caught off guard - not that it didn’t sound good, the opposite actually, it really added something to our music. It was surprising to me because of the fact that no one in my band played the saxophone. I tried to spot which of us was playing it, but I couldn’t make out my friends’ faces through the thick haze of the fog machine. Then, another new instrument played. A trumpet. It was not part of our original song either. The tempo of the music started picking up, it was much faster than we had always played it before. I did my best to keep up. 

A cello. A tuba. A violin. None of this was right, but the music was incredible. The crowd seemed to think the same thing. People danced. Wild hands waved in the air. They sang along to the lyrics at the top of their lungs. I started singing louder too. It was intoxicating to sing the lyrics as loudly as I could, putting all of my energy out through my vocal chords. The audience went crazy for it. They loved Gosha- they loved me. The more energy I put into the lyrics, the more wild they became. The dancing became thrashing, the waving hands started clawing, and the singing became screaming. People tried to climb over each other to get to the stage, their arms and legs contorting at strange angles. They were tearing each other up just to try and get closer to me. I felt as if something clicked within me. I smiled. They loved me. They really loved me.

As the music rose to its highest point, I gave it my all. My newfound confidence boosted my energy to really give that final note the fire it needed. I had never felt so connected to my music before. It was as if everything became one sound, the music, my band, the audience and I. When we hit the crescendo of our song, so did the screams of the crowd.

When I opened my eyes the following morning, I found myself at home, face down on my bed. I was still wearing my costume. Usually I’d wake up hungover after a gig, but today I felt great. I got up to stretch my muscles. That’s when I saw my hands. It took me a moment to register what exactly I was looking at.

Blood. They were covered in old brownish blood. My silver rings were crusted to my fingers because of the thick dried substance. I hurried to the bathroom to wash it off. As I scrubbed my hands clean I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror. It was equally as bloody and I was still wearing my facepaint. No matter how much soap and water I used, the paint would not come off. My make-up was stuck there, etched into my skin like a perfect tattoo.

All I could do was grin. I recalled the night before clearly. I know what I saw. I know what I did at my performance. I remembered how loved Gosha was, how loved I was. It all made sense. Tomasz could’ve never played like I did last night. He would have been scared. He would have ran off terrified with tears running down his cheeks. But not me, no, Tomasz was dead, and in his place stood Gosha.

[ardbar]

You know. Noobs aren't really expected to last very long. Every time we see one that isn't Evbo, they never last long. We watch at least 5 of them die. Who knows how many Evbo has watched die. They probably aren't expected to last more than a few weeks.

And who would waste resources teaching things to people who will be dead in a few weeks anyways? Who would even teach them things? The Pros? The pros would Never, even if it was their Daily Task they would likely just sneer at the Noobs and call them stupid.

It makes me wonder. How many things are considered Common Knowledge that Evbo simply doesn't know even exist? How many things does he do that everyone else would consider him Utterly Insane for that were just... normal on the Nood Level?

EMF catches him using a bucket of water and bar of soap to wash his clothes instead of a washing machine and just thinks he likes doing it the old fashioned way. Shades Pro sees Evbo counting on his Fingers, only after 5 he's speaking jibberish. Shades decides he misheard him or Evbo is fucking with him. Seawatt finds him picking grass blades off a grass block and turns away with a roll of his eyes, not seeing Evbo stuff the fistful of grass into his mouth. He says that even reading is parkour because that's how he refers to all things he's never seen before (and 90% of the time is Correct in this assumption) and EMF and Seawatt think he's just making a joke.

And no one helps him because they don't know he needs help. They don't know that he can't read or write, he doesn't know numbers past 5 and ended up making up names for them, doesn't understand any sort of machine, even unable to understand how furnaces work really, as they had them on noob level but had no fuel for them, he eats grass blades because sometimes... sometimes Pros would "forget" to deliver some meat to his house, or he would be late and not get any, or sometimes the hunger would just get To Bad. Does he even know what a callender is? Evbo has no idea any of these actions are incorrect or that there's things he should learn.

After all, how can he possibly ask for the answers to a question he does not know exists?

Wait I actually love this. I've also believe that Evbo just wouldn't know as much as everyone else because as you said the Noob level just has no infrastructure. Like to your point about him saying even reading is parkour, he specifically mentions he only started to learn it after becoming the champion. This really goes to show how the noob layer just wasn't cared about. However this has always made me question some things, what exactly is the point of the noob level if ranking up is impossible. The master level is obviously a parallel for the wealthy elite, which would make the pro level something around the working class, following this type of logic the noob's would be like the lower class and menial labor. However, the noobs don't actually do anything. While we didn't spend too much time in the noob level all we really saw was that they have to do their daily parkour for food and then as long as they follow the rules they have no other tasks. Do they just exist to keep the pro class busy, to make the pros not realize they are still at the bottom of the social hierarchy?

Personally I think it would be cool if that was why the Noob layer is so underdeveloped and as you said not well educated. The noobs were only a means to an end. I think it would make sense that the Pro level has the biggest population since they aren't prone to dying like the noobs and because they do most of the jobs. Because they have the biggest population and thus a decent amount of sway the champion keeps the noobs around to make the pro's antagonize them instead of trying to rebel against the masters and him. By keeping most of the conflict between the pros and noobs he has effectively prolonged his society.

The noob's exist as an example that things could always be worse. That while the pros need to work to get time to practice parkour they at least have food, they at least have nice homes, they are safe as long as the noobs exist.

Personally I think it would be really fun wrote a fic about various things Evbo does and everyone else just looks at him like, "how are you alive right now?"

[transpat]

realizing that the lilac betting convo was them having three different conversations at once.

yoon jiwon who's been unsettled the whole week bc of seok jiwon's reappearance was now just totally and utterly humiliated bc seok jiwon witnessed her rejection and breakdown (actually going to talk about that in a separate post). if it isn't entirely obv btw the reason she was crying is actually seok jiwon.

(her whole line is 'i'm crying because these days...')

and then,

'To laugh at me?' obv seok jiwon hasn't even thought of that and probably can't add 2 and 2 together. but to yoon jiwon who was an over achiever in high school, always better than seok jiwon the only person she cared about being better than, and is then dumped wordlessly and cruelly by him, her current living situation compared to his are. embarrassing. she normally doesn't care being not that well off financially but again, this is seok jiwon. everything matters when it comes to him.

anyway, her saying 'he's ruining everything her grandfather worked for' is the only valid excuse she has to shit on this man now. there's so many things she wants to complain about, to scream at him about, but he just abandoned her, left without a word, never picked up a single one of her hundred calls and admitting she's anxious bc he came back would only further add to her humiliation.

insisting the lilacs won't bloom again is like saying, 'anything u touch will be doomed'.

seok jiwon on the other hand, is talking about their romance.

unlike yoon jiwon who's had zero contact w this guy for years and thus believes it'd be both mortifying and insane to still harbor feelings for the dude, hence her vehement denial in the consecutive eps, seok jiwon's seen her at her most miserable and vulnerable. it's why he's never been able to move on no matter how painful this is for him, why he's never been able to love any one else even thou yoon jiwon no longer wants him. in fact, him refusing to come back was precisely bc he knew his presence would only upset her, esp involved in a project that is already destroying her grandfather.

it's only when he's told she possibly forgot about him, that he abandons all reason and runs back. and to his relief—initially—she has not forgotten about him at all. no, rather he's come back to hear her say all of this instead.

(he never said he hated her.)

the lilac is barren, the lilac hasn't bloomed in years, the lilac is probably dead—there are no feelings between us, it's been way too many years, after everything that happened there's no way we'd ever fall in love again. that's what he's hearing.

this is also the girl who dumped him over a tiny little fight and refused to ever see him again no matter how many times he tried to reach out to her. this is also the girl he's still in love w. and he just heard her admit to liking someone else and then spit at the idea of them being together.

his words: 'it's not withered or dead', he still has feelings for her and since she feels so strongly about him, he's dying to know if there truly isn't any love in her opinion; 'this is the 5th year not the 40th', even if it's been almost two decades, it wasn't enough for him to forget about her, after what she did to him, was it that easy for her to move on or did she ever think about him, did she ever regret.

insisting the lilacs will bloom, is him trying to convince himself she still loves or still can love him.

and so the bet conditions:

she wants him gone from her life so she can stop feeling so pathetic and embarrassed about herself and her situation and her somehow persisting feelings for him. she loved him for so, so many years, that even if she's in denial now and thinks she isn't in love with him, seok jiwon's long become a part of her self. and she's convinced the only way she can evict him from her heart, is to evict him from her town first.

he wants to know, once and for all, if yoon jiwon truly truly hates him and will never hold an ounce of emotion towards him again. he needs to see for himself if yoon jiwon doesn't regret their breakup at all, if she's never thought of him in all those 18 years, if she really doesn't love him for all. it's the only way he'll be able to move on.

tldr; the lilacs convo was yoon jiwon's metaphoric way of saying seok jiwon ruins everything (she talks about her grandfather but means her heart) and seok jiwon's way of saying a love as deep as there's was can't die no matter how many years have passed and will bloom again, and the rest of the room only now realizing how fucking insane these both are.

p.s. maeng sua spends a lot of time joking about how jiwon must be confusing her feelings of affection for him as hatred and how hate and love are two sides of the same coin and blah blah blah, but it's only now that she realizes her jokes were on point and she looks scandalized.

she's seen yoon jiwon screaming and kicking at the man but this is what made her jaw drop.

and this is where she realizes that yoon jiwon becoming animated and childish and talkative and lively over the past week was bc she'd finally met someone who matched her freak.

she's the only one excited about the bet lol. funnily, she also stops joking about seok jiwon being her type after this and once she snuffs out gong minsu's feelings for yoon jiwon, she turns her flirty jokes on him instead.

[books-and-strawberry-tea]

Fourth Wing Review

★★★★☆

This took me a few days to write. What could I say about Fourth Wing that hasn't already been said? This book has been insanely popular for a few years now, and I've only just gotten around to reading it.

So I guess I'll talk about my feelings instead of the books story itself.

I...loved it. It took me a bit to get in to. Maybe 10%-15%. Which to be fair, is still pretty early. But I had stayed away from any spoilers (somehow, idk how that happened), because I didn't want to know anything. I wanted to know if the hype was worth it. So I wanted to remain as neutral as possible. I wouldn't say I necessarily love the book with all my being and soul. But it definitely has made it's way up my list as one of the better books I've read. That being said, I still really loved it. Hence the 4 star rating.

One thing I will not forget, is how this book made me ugly cry in public before work. At the 80-90% mark, when....Liam...IYKYK. Fucking hell!!! I was not expecting to cry so much before I had to go serve customers. Started with my nose tingling, then my eyes stinging, and it just went down hill from there. Why, may you ask, was I outside? Let's be honest, I don't go outside if I don't have to. I worked 10+ days straight the week I read this book. I read any time I could, on the bus, before my shift, again when I took the bus home, before bed. Any chance I could. I just had to know what was going to happen next.

The smut came in alot later then I expected. I was told that it came in really quick. And maybe not plot wise, but character development wise, I can see that as a valid argument. But I got to be honest, 70% into the book, filled with tension and angst of Xaden and Violet not liking each other, and quickly turn to something more. HEHE! (You can tell I enjoyed this book cause I remembered their names off the bat! If I don't really like a book, my adhd yeets that sort of information. So if I can remember their names, it's really telling'.)

If you like war, fantasy, romance, and ofc dragons, you'd like this book. I was actually surprised though. In my own experience, most content for dragons that I've been exposed to, the dragons are all goofy and silly. Or at least a tad comical in some way. But Tairn and Andarna were anything but that and I lived for it!! They straight away comanded respect, and had a very forward aura of "Fuck around and find out!" People sure did with Andarna that's for sure. RIP you foul suckers. (Again, IYKYK).

Tairn and Andarna were absolutely the stars of the book for me. Their dialogue, the way they were written, the interactions they had with humans and each other, was so incredibly enjoyable. And yes, I've already been looking at merch for these two cause I'm utterly obsessed.

Also that fucking ending??? HOLY SHIT!!! Talk about dropping a bomb right at the last second!!! This was unfortunately the only thing that was spoiled for me. I didn't know exactly how this was going to unfold, but the fact he is alive?? Like wow!! Even before the spoiler, that was not on my radar at all.

Side note that I forgot to mention, I actually listened to the Graphic Audio while reading this. Which, game changer!! All the voice acting, sound affects, dragon roars, battle sounds/music. Really tops just listening to fantasy music playlist while reading. Graphic Audio's are my new obsession while reading, if a GA exists for the book I'm reading, you bet I'll be listening to it while reading. It's so much more immersive. Especially in big scenes that are dramatic, of plot heavy, OR FUCKING EMOTIONAL!!! Def's recommend.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really That Bad?

PREVIOUSLY ON IS IT REALLY THAT BAD...

That right there truly is the long and short of it. Producers held her verbally agreeing to be in this over her head, and so she begrudgingly worked on this movie. She was hostile on set, hated the director, had a stipulation one of the producers wasn’t allowed to speak with her or come to set when she was there… And it’s hard to really blame her when this movie ended up blasting her from Oscar-winning actress to a washed up talk show host. She wasn’t the only one who got obliterated like a stegosaurus chilling at the point of impact for the asteroid; director Johnathan Betuel never directed again (he did go on to found the visual effects studio Luma Pictures, most notable for their work on the Underworld films, so not a bad rebound for the guy) and the aforementioned producer, Richard Abramson, never produced again.

And really, these people should’ve seen this coming. They took an idea that had been trapped in development hell for years and turned it from a gritty sci-fi black comedy into a goofy buddy cop movie for kids! Is it any wonder it tested so badly they canceled a planned theatrical release and sent this one straight to video? Every single thing about this film screams “colossal misfire,” something that proved to be true when this bombed hard. But maybe audiences were simply too harsh on this film; perhaps there’s something of value that audiences back in the day couldn’t see. I mean, it’s a movie about dinosaur cops in the future! Can it really be that bad?

Oh yes it fucking can. But let’s take a look at it anyway.

THE GOOD

If nothing else can be said about this movie, it must at least be given some credit for how utterly weird and ambitious it is. This is a family-friendly take on Blade Runner, but instead of replicants dinosaurs are brought back to life and anthropomorphized for… reasons. The guy who did it literally says he did it just because, and you know what? That’s kinda based. I love this goofy-ass Sauron worldbuilding.

Uh… Yeah, that’s really it.

THE BAD

Hey you know how I said that the film was very ambitious? Ambition only goes so far if you don’t have the talent to utilize said ambition. And let me tell you, they had zero talent utilizing all the wild ideas in this story. This movie is about psychic dinosaur cops in the future solving murder cases… and this is used to make a generic buddy cop movie! There are so many ways they could go with this and they go the safest, most boring route possible so they can cram in a bunch of goofy kiddie jokes.

That’s another thing: This movie has insane tonal whiplash. You have Theo engaging in cartoonish antics where he bonks people with his tail and gushes about his love of cookies, and then you’ll have intense sci-fi B-movie violence right after. This movie really tries so hard to have its cake and eat it too, but instead it kinda just shits all over the cake and tosses it around.

Our leads aren’t exactly great either. Whoopi Goldberg understandably does not ever feel like she wants to be here, and the result is her character feels underbaked and flat. I can’t exactly blame her for not giving a shit; she did want out after all. George Newbern as Theo is serviceable enough, but it is such an awkward waste of his talents. This is the guy who played the greatest hero in all of fiction and the most evil villain too, and here he’s relegated to corny baby antics and cookie obsessions. Granted, this was before he became a bigger name in voice acting, but in hindsight it seems like a critical waste of his talents.

Oh, and the animatronic effects are complete ass. The dinosaurs barely work half the time, with some of them straight up not moving. Theodore’s eyes stop working at several points, and you can tell his pet dog is actually genuinely fucking terrified of him whenever they’re in a scene together. ILM did the effects and they somehow look worse than what they did for Howard the Duck—which is insane since this film came out the year after they convinced the world dinosaurs were real with Jurassic Park! Several staff members apparently worked on Dinosaurs too, a beloved series with great stylized dinosaur animatronics! What the fuck happened here to give us these malfunctioning uncanny monsters?

And why the fuck is Shaft in this?

IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?

Oh it absolutely is that bad.

Like let’s not beat around the bush here: This movie is a tonal mess with janky effects and a nonsense plot that squanders numerous fascinating concepts. There’s not really any sense being too charitable here. But this is absolutely what makes this movie so entertaining! It’s such a colossal, batshit misfire that it ends up being one of the most insanely fascinating films ever made. From the bizarre story of how it was made to the absolute clusterfuck of a plot that was put to screen, you can’t ever say this movie is boring.

Of course, one must lament that the original idea from the 80s was scrapped and forced into becoming a family-friendly action comedy at the behest of the studios. There are so many great ideas here, so many interesting concepts and worldbuilding, and none of it ever gets to soar like it should because the movie is the inept bastardization of interesting concepts by out-of-touch suits. It makes the film interesting as a freakish curiosity, but this genuinely could have been something on the “good” side of “so bad it’s good” (or maybe even straight up good!). As it is, this is one of the best of the worst, peak shitty movie to inflict on your friends on movie night.

Of course, this film has the easiest path of redemption in the world: Someone just needs to dub Theodore's lines over Advent Children or Superman vs. the Elite or even Injustice and it will all have been worth it.

[thekingofwinterblog]

Varric Tethras - The Proud Dwarf

So it's not a big secret that the best companion Bioware ever created was Varric Tethras, the lovable rogue, crossbowman, author and handsome Viscount of Kirkwall.

There are ao many reasons to love Varric, but one I don't see much discussed, is the subtle, and contradictory relationship Varric has with his own race, the Dwarves of Thedas.

Varric makes it a point of always putting his seeming disdain for his own people out in the open, always making it clear how much he dislikes the traditional Dwarven culture, wqy of life and so on.

He describes Orzammar, one of the great wonders of the world as cramp tunnels filled with shit and body odor, he never fails to mention how much he hates the deep roads, and he often mocks dwarven pride at any opportunity with his usual wit and charm.

On the surface, Varric might seem like he has a lot in common with Sera and her racist views on all elvhen kind, but that really, really is not the case.

Because under that exterior of seeming disdain, is a man who both understands Dwarven Culture in all it's flaws, but also loves it and hates it in equal measures.

Varric has always made it clear how much he loved the Hanged man, and essentially made his room there his office, his real home away from the uber dwarfish merchant guild.

And do you know what he fills it with?

The dwarfiest architecture you can imagine. Varric has a dwarf table, a noble dwarf chair, dwarven artwork on the wall, and even a dwarven stone bed.

All expensive and traditional stuff which he would have had to had personally paid for to transport into this room out of his own pocket.

Varric for all his harsh words on the Dwarven people, WANTS to live in a home that looks utterly Dwarven.

The most obvious moment that puts Varric's love for his dwaf ancestry on full display is of course the act 2 quest from da2, where he and an insane(temporary lucid) Bartrand has a heart to heart where both puts their real feelings on the tragedy of their situation on display.

Varric chastises Bartrand for in his madness having thrown away every bit of his dwarven nobility and honor on a stupid trinket, and Bartrand ends up begging his brother not to let house Tethras fall with him, in this display of utter madness and dishonor.

The entire thing is a deeply tragic display where the two brothers show that deapite all their differences, they really did love each other deeply, as well as the fact they had a shared love of their ancestry as Orzammar Nobility.

Of course Varric almost never comes out and says it nearly this clearly anywhere else, as showcased in another side quest where you give him back the Tethras family signet ring that Bartrand had to pawn to finance the expedition.

He doesn't come out and say it, instead focusing on the bad aspects of Orzammar in this quest, but unless hawke is rivaling him when he gives him the quest, varric has a huge approval boost in response to getting his family ring back, showing the thing really did mean a lot to him, despite his disparaging it and Orzammar in said quest.

Later, in Inquisition, Varric never misses a chance to badmouth Orzammar and tradition, but he reacts with incredible sadness at the prospect of Orzammar one day possibly falling.

When Solas asks him about Dwarven literature, and whether there is a lot of Dwarven tricksters, varric gives a smartass remark summing it up as Dwarves tend to write how they want the world to be, while humans write how they think the world is, eith the latter being clearly superior.

It's a good scene, but it has a deeper meaning that ties into Varric's deeper views on Dwarven culture.

Varric knows how Dwarves write, because he has read Dwarven liturature, and understands it completely as both a dwarf, a reader, and a writer, and how it in turn differs from human literature.

For all his grumbling on dwarves in Orzammar being obsessed with their ancestors, he himself is the exact same way as shown in legacy when you find the original Tethras and gives him to the stone, able to shortly remember every bit of his own family lore on the spot and being moved to tears by the tragedy of it all.

Varric defends both surface dwarves and Orzammar dwarves against Solas accusation that they have given up against the darkspawn threat, though in his usual way, he makes it out like surface dwarves are clearly superior.

Varric genuinely loves and cares about so much of Dwarven culture and history, and he understands it deeply.

Which in turn also is the reason he genuinely hates so much about it.

Like all of the DA2 companions, Varric has something he is deeply, deeply obsessed with, something that drives him as a person, and motivates his actions through the entire story. The difference between him and everyone else, is that this obsession never reached a conclusion, because Varric doesn't get to actually face it, and confront it.

That obsession is, of course, the Dwarven Merchant Guild.

Varric HATES the Dwarven Merchant guild, and though he uses his regular humor to portray it, in this case it's actually the opposite of the way he will always be critical of the Dwarven people. Because Varric hates the guild far, far more than he ever pretends to hate Orzammar.

Varric always talks of how shitty the guild is, how it embodies the absolute worst parts of dwarven culture, and essentially how it ruined Bartrand from ever being able to function as anything other than a cutthroat businessman. He time, and time, and time again, refuses to interact with the guild, breaks the law hard to not have to participate, and all in all cold shoulders them and their cutthroat culture completely.

There is a very important, significant moment in act 3, that is incredibly easy to miss, but completely recontextualizes varric's entire motivation for wanting the deep roads expedition.

Varric talks about the real reason why Bartrand wanted to go through with the expedition, of how it represented the one chance he had to get AWAY from the guild forever, just by being rich enough he no longer had to deal with them anymore.

Varric portrays it as Bartrand's big wish and motivation, hut it's incredibly obvious if one pays attention that this was a wish the two brothers actually shared, a mutual desire in the world. Which in turn is one of the reasons why Varric is so incredibly angry at his brother when he goes off the deep end due to the idol and betrays them.

Him and Bartrand got into this venture to finally, once and for all get out of having to deal with the worst parts of surface Dwarf society, and here his brother seemingly willingly turned his back on all of that, showing the only thing he ever cared about was pure greed.

In other words, everything both he and Bartrand hated about the Merchant Guild.

Varric hates the Caste system. He hates the division between surface and "regular" dwarves, and he thinks Orzammar's nobility has a collective stick up it's ass. And yet despite all of that, he loves the Dwarves. He loves the idea of nobility and the ideals it is supposed to represent, he loves Dwarven architecture, their grand ability to make shit, and the incredible grit and romanticism about the Dwarves long, unending struggle against the darkspawn.

The only part of Dwarven society Varric has no love for, is the Merchant Guild. It is Orzammar's nobility without anything resembling virtues, nobles who lost their caste, and yet still enforces a brutal hierarchy of blood, and cares for no ideals, no honor, no cause, except for the clink of money.

Varric is such a deep character, and I really wish that in the future, we get to see this aspect of him fleshed out even more.

[chthonicgodling]

For, Lokiii 🧠 & 🍩

For Libbyyy ❤️&✂️

[ask game here!] eeeee ty!! OH THIS IS GONNA BE SOOO LONG AAHGH—

Lmao first for eLoki my most favorite oc 😇

🧠 - What do you like most about them?

IMMEDIATELY GETS ON THE SOAPBOX the thing about him tHE THING ABOUT HIM IS- and I do not CARe what anything else anywhere else cough cough tries to say about him , I am CORRECT or at least I am correct wholeheartedly in Elysium where fenixe and I are in control —

the short answer is he fits within my favorite character trope trend of all my favorite ocs (Maci, Chal) and the long answer is specifically what I mean is that Loki is the most desperately insecure, frantically jealous and attention-deprived disaster of possibly all time.

and it’s that, to combat this, the utterly insane solution HE found was to adopt this… this DEMEANOR, this Sneering and Smirking Haughty Veneer of Calculated Scheming Aloof Supervillainry— well, retired supervillainry. Everything he’s ever done, all his actions — -and then generally, his incessant compulsion to swerve around genuine emotional vulnerability, his crucial need to not only appear as if he’s all put together, but to appear like he’s WINNING (winning what?!)- is just, the most utterly batshit way to handle??? feeling like that??? to handle an entire lifetime of feeling NOT GOOD ENOUGH and an entire lifetime of UNENDING COMPARISON and an entire lifetime of NOT MEASURING UP and— this??? this is how he deals?!?!?!?!

ELoki - being shown genuine love and ACCEPTANCE and EMBRACE for who HE is instead of who he isn’t - and promptly locking himself behind like ten doors to crumble into dust about it - it’s just sooooooo????

grits teeth that insecurity after all the Veneers being scraped off is the entire point to his character. he’s not ACTUALLY a cocky narcissist LIKE SOME MAY HAVE DESCRIBED IN CERTAIN UHH MEDIA CONTENTS, but HE would call himself that to further disguise that burrowed insecurity and that— again— to choose that method of all ways to handle that aching void inside is just soooooooooooooooooo oh my god. I’m. So obsessed with that, and make no mistake I’m so obsessed with portraying him at all times in Elysium with that core character trait at ALL times in the back of my mind. ohhhh hh hgmy god. my god. my GOD—

🍩 -Who is Loki’s arch-nemesis or rival?

….if you had asked him this like. three months ago he would have said Maci 😭actually if you caught him in the hallway like right now he probably would STILL say this to your face and then as soon as you wandered away would poof back to her bedroom to let her pet his hair, so,

This is so funny Loki does actually have very specific and famous arch nemesises but he snidely professes to be retired from the supervillain lifestyle and so he OF COURSE doesn’t REALLY care what the a vengers are doing, unless of course they were to mildly inconvenience him in ANY way and then they’d be his archnemesises again. Honestly Loki is a person that just kind of collects these into an infinite list, anyone who’s ever slighted him or even mildly annoyed him is an enemy forever. I also want to say that he considers Hecate to be his absolute enemy and Hecate has always been and continues to be warm and friendly to him bc that’s a fully one sided rivalry fgkfkgkgkgkg

Within Elysium, hmm let’s see Loki also famously dislikes Eris NOT because of anything she’s done to harm the palace but bc she’s also a goddess of chaos and it makes Loki feel territorial and threatened 😠 but also OH an actual and legitimate answer is - like everyone else’s - Thanatos???? He’s of course on Loki’s shitlist forever due to That Whole Series of Events (Thanatos siphoning Loki’s powers to attack the palace, culminating in Thanatos’s explosion into jars) and like. It is unacceptable to attack his family but EVEN MORE unacceptable to trick HIM and make a fool out of him in the process absolutely how dare you (worth mentioning that if interrogated about this certainly Loki would only admit to the latter…..)

now onto the Libby section!!

❤️ - What is one of Libby’s best memories?

oh this was an IMMEDIATE answer that came to my mind and it’s gotta be one of Libby’s FIRST memories of her very own that is, when Loki made her real, since before that when living as a hallucination of Chal’s she and Chal had all the same memories — and I think it IS when Loki made her real. like, that very moment. Chal had gotten to sleep for the first time in her life ever and her hallucination of Libby was fading; the deal she’d made with Loki & Ty & Bel was that if she could try to be nice for a week they would make Libby real and bring her back, Chal held up her end of the bargain but it was an entire week without her. Libby’s very first memory of her own was becoming tangible — and immediately getting to tacklehug Chal for the first ever time :’)))))

✂️ - What is one of Libby’s worst memories?

……Well. hey. Due to her time living as a hallucination of Chal’s….. she and Chal……. Share the same memories, s… so…………

however due to many traumatic events and also severe sleep deprivation neither Libby or Chal remember everything from their earlier childhood, Libby remembers a little bit more than Chal does but, collectively they’re missing so many gaps. Hell, Chal’s even covered in scars - besides the shoulder scar that we all know what the cause of was - they have NO idea where all those came from �� some things are just too horrifying to hold space for in your brain!

A few years ago Libby had had a couple of sessions with Epione, the palace therapist who’s helped Chal (and Maci, Epi, Tory, many many people) and Epione had asked her to talk about some of her bad memories. Well, all of Libby’s bad memories are of watching Chal be terrorized by her parents when she was younger. The specific event she’d talked about then was of generally how the Keres daemons, Ker’s minions, would basically follow Chal all around to tattle on her to Thanatos and Ker if she ever did anything “wrong” and on one such occasion, a mortal Chal had been trying to kill had escaped. The Keres daemons watching had all turned on Chal, accusing her of showing mercy to the mortal who’d gotten away, dragged her back to Ker and Thanatos, and —

And then blank. Libby, just like Chal, quietly haunted by the memory of the terror of it, of being brought back before them— and then a gap of several days later. All of Libby’s worst memories are just like that. oops! AUGH.

Thank you so much for the questions!!

[countlessrealities]

A Heart for a Kiss || Accepting !

@mcltiples sent: ❤️ for a romantic kiss. { To your Rick from my Rick ! }

The night was beautiful. The stars shone brightly in the sky, thickening in its middle to draw the greenish arch of an alien galaxy. All around there was nothing but the sandy expanse of the beach, golden and silent. The only sound came from the ocean, purple waves caressing the shore in rhythmical whispers.

Rick agreed that the landscape was breathtaking, worthy of being stared at for hours, especially while it was bathed in the golden rays of the moonlight. It was why he had chosen to bring his boyfriend here, wanting to share the wonder of that place with the one he loved the most.

However, in truth, he found it really hard to pay attention to his surroundings because he was too busy staring at his counterpart. Every time they were together, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, until it became nothing but a white background noise. So easy to ignore and forget.

Ice blue eyes kept tracing the shadows that the dim light cast on that handsome face, mesmerised as if it had been the first time he was seeing it. He was hyper aware of their sides pressing together as they sat on the beach, comfortably sharing their body warmth. The scent of his boyfriend's aftershave tickled his nostrils, mixing with the salty smell of the seawater.

It was insane. How could he still be so utterly lovestruck after all this time? It shouldn't have been possible. He had thought that he couldn't be possible, up until the moment he had been proved wrong.

And fuck if he wasn't glad for it. His other self was the best thing that had, and would ever have without doubt, happened to him.

Following the flood of tender longing those thoughts brought him, he reached out, cupping his counterpart's jaw with his hand to turn his head towards him, so that they could be face to face. God, there were no words to describe how much he loved that man. All of him, down to the smallest detail, even the parts he couldn't stand at times. They contributed to make his boyfriend who he was, so how could he not love them too?

For a moment, it looked like he was about to say something, but the only thing that left his lips was a quiet breath. Instead, he leant in and captured that mouth in a soft but passionate kiss. His lips slowly explored his counterpart's, as he took his time to savour the kiss before deepening it. Even when he did, his movements remained slow, as if he had been trying to memorise every inch and every second of how his boyfriend felt and tasted.

He couldn't have said how long they stayed like that, lost in each other, and he couldn't have cared less. Once they finally broke away, he rested his forehead against his counterpart, his expression full of the affection and adoration he was feeling.

"A-At times, when I'm with you, I-I can't remember what my life was like b-before we met," he spoke in a whisper, locking their eyes together. "An-And you know what? I-I don't fuckin' care that I don't. I-It's fuckin' great, b-because you made my life a thousand times better. I-I feel like my life really started with you."

It was sappy as fuck and it probably sounded like an exaggeration, but he meant every word. To hell with the act he usually put on, to hell with the sort of reputation he likes upholding for himself. To hell with his fears and wounds and insecurities. None of that mattered, not when he was with his soulmate.

The smile came back on his lips, a little brighter than before, and he didn't wait for an answer or a reaction. He closed the distance between them again, stealing another, more heated kiss.

All that mattered was them. Forever and a thousand years.

[internetmisfitsworld]

Man, I feel bad for Soap fans.

Imagine your fav character being offed in such terrible way compared to the old ones. 💀

The thing is, it was never about not wanting him to die. I think almost every Soap fans are aware of the possibility of him dying again and most of them are accepting of it.

The problem was how he died.

I know that scene parallels with Yuri saving Price from Makarov but the way I see it, it's a mix with when Soap and Price was throwing hands with Shepherd.

For starter, it's utterly insane how OG Soap managed to yeet a knife with god-like precision at Shepherd's eye, all while suffering from a stab wound in the chest.

In the reboot, Soap went for Makarov's shoulder.... instead of his neck? Like I get that he was probably dazed from getting shot in his right shoulder, but come on man 😭 compared THAT to the OG? They made him look incompetent.

Are you really telling me that this man, who for the entirety of the game, went into rage mode whenever Makarov was mentioned, doesn't went for his neck when he's about to stab him??

Hell, even on Verdansk flashback, that man really threw his ass on the floor of the helicopter, ready to end his life right then and there. Is this really the same man??

On god, I'm surprised Soap doesn't just tackled him on the ground and went berzerk on him. Also, what was Makarov's men were doing when Soap went sneak attack on him?

"Oh he did just tell his men to back off and let him handle Price and Soap alone and so obviously they should follow his order even if said enemy was about stab him to death :D". How noble. So technically, Soap would've been dead the moment he rise from the ground and wouldn't even get the chance to lift his knife and Price would be dead :D.

So yeah, it's understandable why people reacted the way they did. They made reboot Soap so amateurish with the way he aim that knife (dude was SAS ffs) AND they killed him off in a horrible way.

Basically, that whole scene just feels odd.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi! I just saw your post on DS2 and I have a HUGE problem with that movie, and it mainly comes down to the fact that it fails (in my mind) to properly explore character development. To explain what I mean a bit more, the MCU is a franchise and that franchise is literally built on its characters. I mean, it’s not just “MOM” it’s “Doctor Strange in the MOM.” So, a lot of people are coming to see DS and Wanda and their interactions. DS had a pretty lacklustre motivation and I honestly didn’t buy his role as a mentor with how little time it took for him to let go of his arrogance, but with Wanda especially her arc is so neglected just so shel’ll play the villainous role. They set up this whole narrative for her in Wandavision ending with her grief and hope, but then just skips to her being utterly insane. This is probably even worse for people who haven’t watched the series and just witness her going from the end of Endgame to fully evil. It wouldn’t be such a problem if Marvel didn’t pride itself on its character driven narratives but it DOES. Rewrites or no, I felt that the reason the film felt so soulless was that it prioritised fan service and wider MCU connectivity over the thing that brings the audience and drives the narrative in the first place: the characters.

(referencing this post)

Hey Lovely!

YES UGH. And it's frustrating because it kind of forces people to get the streaming so they know what happened in the "in between"? like, Marvel shows should have NEVER been about "solving movie level issues" more just like about a singular character and their adventures. Like Agents of Shield and Daredevil were (to my knowledge, I haven't seen either). So yeah, to some rando, MOM just... seemed really weird? But even then ALL the characterizations were SO OFF and, as I mentioned, Doctor Strange became a secondary character in his own movie. It's like they wanted someone else for a villain and someone higher up said, NAW let's make Wanda the villain and oop how about this fan service and let's introduce a character who's powers are SO ridiculously OP'd that it changes the power scaling of the most powerful sorcerer in the MCU.

Don't get me wrong, I liked America, and I liked the Illuminati, BUT they should have NEVER been introduced in a Doctor Strange Movie? Like... it's weird.

I dunno, I'm seeing theories going around now that they're setting up Doctor Strange to be the big bad of Secret Wars instead of Kang, so I don't know anymore. I just... wanted a continuation of DS1, and Mordo should have been a bad guy in DS2.

DS2 just... is so convoluted and not even a DS movie? I didn't hate the movie, I just... felt it WASN'T a DS movie, like the first one was. It felt like it was just there to introduce the Multiverse in the most convoluted and confusing way possible.

And WandaVision, even though I didn't really like it as much as everyone else apparently, did a good job of showing Wanda's trauma. I just feel that DS2 really undid all that and just... made her a villain to sell toys because everyone loves her.

Ugh. Then again, apparently my tastes are crap because the only Marvel shows I enjoyed all the way through were Moon Knight, Hawkeye and FatWS, so what do I know. Loki was alright until they fucking shoehorned that horrid romance into it. Feh.

Anyway, thanks for sharing your thoughts Lovely <3

[skzdarlings]

Hi Darling <3

It is over. I am empty. I am relieved. I am filled with so much emotion. Holy shit. Where do I start🙃

I have been SO looking forward to this chapter and (as always) you delivered EVERYTHING!!!!

Little Fun fact: As I read your latest two questions, I remembered I myself had been extremely anxious about how the story will end for a long time. I am from Germany and when I first started reading this fic, I mistranslated „eventual happy ending“ in my head because „eventuell“ is a german word very similar to „eventually“ and it basically means „possibly“. I mixed those two words up in my head. So I spent the first few weeks thinking you said „possibly a happy ending, maybe not“ and it drove me NUTS until I looked at the word again and let me tell you the RELIEF when I realized I had mistranslated it was INSANE lol. So for a long time, I really didn’t know there’d be a happy ending. But still, even after realizing my mistake, I was very nervous about this chapter.

 I am very torn between crying because the story is over and crying because it ended in the most beautiful, exciting, satisfying way possible. I really mean it, you couldn’t have done it any better. 

Hyunjin’s appearance was SO heartbreaking. At first I was glad that he reappeared after such a long time, but his miserable state broke my heart and then he even had to get this confession out of Y/N 😭😭😭 THE PAAAAAIIIIIIIIIN and then you even made us think that he was killed?!?!?!!??! Excuse me?!?!?!?!?!🤬 I think I was actually close to dying at that point. 

The father freaking out completely and losing his sanity more and more throughout the chapter was both terrifying and satisfying as hell. I also loved seeing at least a tiny glimpse of him as an actual person (like when he was reminded of his own father) instead of him only being this one-dimensional super-villain without any layers. Bravo! Felix finally standing up to him made me so happy, I’d say it was about damn time! And when that BITCH ASS CUNT WAS MOWED DOWN OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!! My highlight oft he year!!! Yeeaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!! I LOVE the fact that his death was so quick and undignified. And who could’ve been the better person for this job than…... HAN FUCKING JISUNG 😭😭😭😩😩😩👏🏻🙏🏻👏🏻🙏🏻 

YAAAASSSSS!!!!!!! When Y/N sent her goodbye message, I just KNEW that he was gonna have to react in some way. And when The Bitch got ran over, my heart started beating a bit faster and I thought „that HAS to be him, that can’t be anyone else“… The PAYOFF after missing him for so many chapters was….. immense. I cried. Uglily. No shame. 👍🏻 It’s sad that we didn’t get to see Seungmin and Jeongin again, but reuniting with both Jisung and Hyunjin definitely made up for it. Although I would’ve loved to know what happened to our university boys. 🥲

And the most important thing…. Felix and Y/N. They are finally free, after everything. They are fictional characters, but I feel a strong sense of inner peace when I think about it, be it rational or not. They finally broke from their shells and made sure the father knew what they truly think of him before he died, which was so deserved for both of them. And of course they‘d catch a bullet for each other😭 The confirmation that Chris is in fact dead was utterly heartbreaking, but I expected it tbh. I’m just so sorry for Felix. Him sitting in the garden, crying about his friend with his fair finally back to it’s natural shade got me in my feelings 🥲💔 But I really couldn’t be happier with this ending. Finally peace and calm and room for love. They are together and will always have each other. And Jisung.

I really don’t know how everything will continue for me now that the story is over lol. I created this account specifically to tell you my thoughts about the fic. But I will definitely not stop checking out your account. I wish you nothing but the best, and I thank you so much for inspiring me in a broader sense than you can probably imagine. Thank you so much for this project, for your discipline to bring such a huge story to life and share with others. Thank you for all your effort and reminding me of why I first started reading as a little girl. All love. ❤️

-Viktoria ❤️

oh my goshhh 🥺♥️♥️ your reviews always make my day thank you so so much.

first of all oh my goodness at the translation confusion 😂 what a relief in the end hahahaha

and ahhh those were all the big moments i love reading reactions to 🤭 i have had this ending planned out from the second jisung appeared on the page and through all the missing him had been so excited to finally share the ending hahahaha i am so glad you enjoyed it all!!

and thank you so so much for such a heartfelt note. i appreciate it so much. writing is so much more wonderful and fun with amazing readers like you. it’s a joy to share it with you!! thank you for all your messages and i wish you all the best 😊♥️

also very random but i love your name hahaha that’s one of my favourite names i think it’s so beautiful 😊

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

tldr is that Dream’s a fucking asshole who’s spent the last few years amassing often quite serious controversies (speedrun cheating being the most well known but a few of the absolute lowlights are his constant misogyny- making weird tweets to female streamers, staying quiet when they were harassed, deliberately making a misogynistic music video for no reason, using his grooming allegations to waffle about talking about how women always do this for a year instead of doing absolutely anything at all to address them despite apparently having evidence against them all along, and most ghoulishly defending his friend for groping a drunk stranger without her consent- his constant racism- he's an ex (? possibly lying about that considering how bigoted he is) trump supporter who made a weird kkk edit when he was 19, and launched a blatantly racist hate campaign against one of his ex friends for daring to make a minecraft server before him- and extreme lack of safeguarding- making sexual comments to 16 year old streamers, having private personal conversations with sometimes underage fans, stuff like that) so like the only people who like him are his weird cult of fans at this point.

anyway so randomly out of nowhere dream calls the entire fanbase of another one of his ex friends, tommyinnit, a slur. for literally no reason. tommy was arguing with someone who mentioned his name, but that person was slagging him off so it made absolutely no sense to side with that guy. now tommy Has Not been kind to dream since they stopped being friends, accusing him of being an asshole to him when they were friends (and since tommy is the streamer he made sexual comments to- yes, he was a teenager at the time, while dream was 20/21- I can buy it) but that was not relevant here at all. tommy was attacking someone for being a trump supporter.

anyway he at first tries to justify it by saying he’s autistic, despite having done this before and eventually declaring he knew it was inappropriate to use as an insult. when even his fans were unimpressed bc he was blatantly doing something he said was immoral, he deleted it, but still did some wild justification.

ANOTHER ex friend of his, Tubbo, is upset at this bc Tubbo is neurodivergent himself. he makes a livestream trying, quite politely, to explain that there’s a difference between reclamation and using something as an insult. inexplicably, dream decided to react to this stream in a goofy minecraft skin, not addressing any of the points Tubbo actually made which included him inexplicably admitting to letting adults post pornography in discussions with minors like those people didn’t commit a fucking crime (and as it’d turn out, this happened multiple times, so he didn’t even stop it let alone report). like i'm not cutting context there was literally no reason for him to do that.

anyway so, Tommy responds and basically calls out dream for calling random people slurs and also the misogyny stuff. he also alleges more mistreatment behind the scenes which yeah I believe if this guy is calling his fans slurs for no reason. dream sees this and responds with the worst “apology” video ever, except maybe the ukulele one but it’s close. he spends like a minute tops apologising for the slur use, then he does absolutely buckwild shit like accuse tommy of using slave labour (???) and underpaying his editors (?????).

Tubbo did another livestream (he did one before it’s just not really relevant) completely and utterly debunking literally all of dreams insane points and proving through a picture of his editing he used in the video he had to be doing so on purpose by cropping screenshots. so Dream’s lying about petty things and that’s confirmed, no one knows if he’s telling the truth about the serious allegations anymore bc What The Fuck, and his fans are trying desperately to justify slander as a morally good thing.

“That’s a tldr?” Yes the full thing would be a goddamn essay he’s just that fucking annoying

This is like Kendrick vs Drake for terminally online people

[tired-biscuit]

Ugh poor Kiba. I can imagine him doing the most cringe stuff trying to impress a girl.... mainly because the girls in his friendgroup give him the most over the top advice. But he TRIES lol.

i think he’d be a smooth talker once he gets older and gains the experience, but inexperienced kiba definitely would do something like that.

ino and sakura, being the menaces that they are whenever they come along in a duo, would make him pull the most insane stuff just for shits and giggles and their personal entertainment. filling his head with piles upon piles of information he can’t possibly follow along with, much less understand, they try to shake up his look and the way he acts, speaks — even the way he stands.

and he tries to keep it in mind, he really does, even if all he wants to do instead, is keep being him and to flex a little about it like he normally does. and being the stubborn man that he is, he decides to follow the girls’ advice, but to also mix it up a little bit. so he tries to stand taller whenever you come near, silently boasting with his body language alone, but also tries to play off being nonchalant about it because ino had once told him that girls always fall for emotionally unavailable men and that he should try being like that instead if he ever plans to score you.

and as a result, he ends up looking low-key intimidating in your presence; towering over you whilst falling oddly quiet whenever he gets you alone with him. his eyes are dark, jaw clenched, shoulders stiff, and his lips are nothing but a firm line. there’s no fanged grin in sight, the dimples in his cheeks are nowhere to be seen. he has a tendency to be grumpy, sure, but never in an aloof, utterly cold way like this.

to be frank, it makes you uneasy. you’re so weirded out by the sudden switch that you start asking him questions and try your hand in smalltalk in feeble attempt to fill in the gaps of silence that in reality absolutely petrify the shit out of him and which he wants to fill, fill, fill with warm, friendly chatter because he’s good at it — goddammit, he’s good at talking.

and yet, all he ends up doing is grumbling short answers to whichever question you throw at him. he nods or shakes his head as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, even if his palms have gotten so fucking clammy that the sweat there makes him want to wipe them against his pants so bad. he unknowingly builds a wall between you brick by brick by trying to seem so mysterious like this.

and oh god, the entire thing would be even funnier if you were completely clueless about it. like, this man; this poor, lovesick man, who is so obviously head over heels for you in the eyes of others, is nearly lifting boulders off the ground as a means to impress you because he doesn’t know how to talk to you and because the girls said so, and you just can’t believe the mere thought that he’d ever be interested in you.

to be fair, you do have pretty valid reasoning for it. he looks like he’s in pain whenever he looks at you, and turns all weird and quiet as soon as you approach. and it’s valid especially because you know for a fact that he isn’t at all like that around others — you’ve seen him be so loud and talkative whenever he goes out drinking with his friends and you keep sneaking glances at him from across the bar. you’ve seen him bicker with his sister playfully as they walked down the street, poking each other’s sides, and you just happened to be exiting a nearby shop. you’ve seen him hug his mom for mother’s day and even heard him coo at his dog multiple times.

he’s actually warm and passionate and hot-headed and determined. he cares so deeply for the world around him and the people in it, and he has a heart, just… not for you, it seems.

or at least that’s what you think.

[sukirichi]

Breakfast for Choso with ingredients #17 and 34 with #2 sugar? Wine is optional.

EASY 

— Nothing is ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d push through hell and back.

meal order: breakfast + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + biting, scratching, choso eating reader out, sex on the beach

warnings: mature content, unedited fic, choso is mean and harsh when he’s angry

notes: thank you so much for this anon! I really enjoyed writing this and this totally made my day. I hope you like it!

word count: 10k+ LOL CHOSO BRAIN ROT

check out the fanart @tigressnej-chan made, it s so beautiful HURRR

Your day was absolutely ruined. Dark, deep bags covered your under eyes as you stormed through the convenience store downstairs your apartment, body clad in an oversized hoodie and socks visible through slippers, hair greasy and lips chapped. You’re aware you look like a mess, but did you care?

Absolutely not, especially when you haven’t been sleeping well the moment you moved into this cursed apartment because of a certain fucker.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That specific fucker – the cause of your ruin and the devil who prevented you from living a good life – waltzed inside the store, the small bell chiming to signal his presence. You scoffed at his confident, suave walk, further irritated because he just had to be insanely attractive – in an alternative, laid-back kind of way.

He wasn’t even your type; you preferred more refined men who wore pressed suits and leather shoes, but you had to admit this man was insanely attractive.

With deep, sunken eyes, a dark tattoo across the bridge of his nose and dark hair twisted into twin ponytails, large, muscular body covered in a black sweatshirt and a red scarf – he looked very much like a former member of a gang who retired because their barbaric ways wasn’t his thing. It was an odd theory, and you sat there at the corner of the store, glaring at the man who tiredly pressed the coffee maker machine for a dark roast.

As if feeling eyes on him, his lazy eyes slid over to yours, and almost automatically, one corner of his lips tilted up in humor. This fucker knew how much he annoyed you, and he only further pushed your buttons by walking over to you, the steam of his coffee nearly blocking your gaze.

“Good morning,” he greeted sarcastically, well aware that it definitely not a good morning for you.

“Have fun last night, neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, you won’t even bother denying it?”

“I see no point in it,” he invited himself by sitting next to you, long legs crossed over his muscular thigh. You found yourself staring at how he seemed so firm even in loose sweatpants, averting your gaze and staring at your soggy ramen noodle cup instead.  “And you’re not trying to hide the fact you’re listening, either.”

“I wasn’t listening!” you slammed your fist down the table – he didn’t even flinch, only continuing to sip his coffee as if you weren’t burning in anger beside him – as you hissed, “The walls are too damn thin and you’re so fucking loud.”

“No, I wasn’t. She was loud, though.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. He really was shameless. You already knew this man didn’t have enough shame in his body, but you didn’t think he’d have absolutely nothing.

Upon witnessing your stupefied state, he reached over to knock at your skull. “Still there, princess?” you cringed at his nickname for you; you didn’t even know this guy’s name, for pete’s sake! “Or are you still too bothered by the fact I got some good fucking last night?”

You flicked his arm away from you, nearly seething in your seat. “God, you’re insufferable. I should move out.”

“Yes, I think that would be for the best too,” he nodded to himself as he stared at his now empty coffee cup. Had it been that long already? Apparently, it was, because your noodles turned cold and your neighbor was already leaving your seat, dipping for a mocking bow. “Have a nice day, neighbor. Don’t think of my cock too much,” he teased, even going as far as winking until your jaw dropped.

You watched as he threw the paper cup in the proper bin, a little surprised he was decent enough to do mundane tasks like that. Sometimes, it was so easy to forget your neighbor was also a decent human being, but whatever.

You absolutely, utterly hated him, and you kept mumbling to yourself of the different ways you’d get your revenge on him as he walked out the door, his annoyingly gorgeous ass in view. “Yeah, right,” you scowled to yourself, “As if I can get that image out my mind now.”

He would not be an easy feat.

Despite your constant pleas for him to at least be silent during the weekdays to give you enough peace of mind to study for the finals, he didn’t stop. Hours just after the sun sets, you’d hear giggles and sloppy kisses on the hallway.

No matter how much you pressed your hands into your ears and set your music on full volume to block out the noise, you could always hear them.

Your neighbor was undeniably a fuckboy. 

Every night, he’d have a different girl dangling in his arms. You knew, because the voices squealing his name while he fucked them right next door were always different. Some days, it was deep and throaty, and on other days it’d be high-pitched and nearly scraping at your ears. They all said the same thing though, such as fuck, right there, you feel so good or harder, harder, please, I’m so close!

To say you were traumatized was an understatement. You never wanted to hear such things again, but alas, your neighbor apparently couldn’t give a single shit because he was fucking someone again.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the person he brought home this time around just had to have the most fucking annoying voice ever. Or maybe it sounded like the others, but you were in the middle of memorizing veins and brain chemicals in alphabetical harder when you heard the headboard of his bed slam against your wall, the sound hard and loud enough you dropped your book in surprise.

They didn’t stop. If anything, he kept going harder until nothing but his low sexy groans and his partner’s screaming – that was right, she was fucking screaming – like she was having her insides rearranged.

You didn’t doubt the possibility that maybe she really was. Your neighbor was such a huge, attractive guy, after all, it would make sense he was capable of such. Before you knew it, you could no longer understand the words in your textbook. You kept rereading the same line over and over again, but nothing registered into your mind. You were so close to screaming at them to stop and shut the fuck up because it was three in the morning and they were still going at it, but you weren’t that mean.

Yes, you hated him, but you weren’t going to blue ball someone or make sex awkward. Sex with your ex was always awkward, so you knew how painful it was to live with that memory. No matter how much you hated your neighbor, you wouldn’t go that far.

So you trudged all the way up to the building’s public balcony, bringing a blanket with you to survive the chilly bite of the night.

You used your phone’s flashlight to read all over the textbooks, keeping your little note cards organized and color coded beside you. Finally, you could make sense of things a little bit more, and you chugged at your Red Bull to keep you awake. Time passed by so fast whenever you were lost with your nose stuck in a book, and your attention was only ripped away when the balcony door swung open, revealing your neighbor with messed up hair and bruised lips.

He looked totally fucked out.

“Oh, fuck, no – what are you doing here?”

“This balcony is for all tenants,” your neighbor barely blinked as he walked closer to you, but instead of joining you on the table, he leaned against the railings and stared into the night sky. He seemed so placid, a little approachable despite his intimidating face even, and for a moment, you were studying his sharp, masculine features before he turned your way with a passive face. “Last time I checked, I’m a tenant, therefore I have the rights to be here.”

“I don’t care,” you retorted childishly, pulling your books closer to you as if he wanted to steal it. He only raised a brow at your actions, the large muscles of his arms bulging up from where he stood.

It felt so hard to not salivate at the sight, but for the sake of your pride, you had to push those thoughts down and remind yourself why you hated him so much. “I evoke your rights. You’re not welcome here.”

“You’re awfully harsh to a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re my neighbor who brings girls in his home every night and I can never get a wink of sleep because all I can hear is them moaning and the sound of balls slapping!”

“Vulgar,” he smirked, and he had no business looking so attractive with that arrogant smirk on his face that it took all energy you had in you to not whack him with your book.

“I think I deserve an apology.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

You stood up with a scowl, nearly shoving the book right in his chest. “Bro, I’m this close to slapping this book right in your pretty face. You see how thick this is? I’m not kidding, this will hurt. Listen, I’ve got a final exam and a suture practice this weekend. All I’m asking for is just a few hours of sleep – that’s all. I just don’t get why you always seem to be balls deep in someone at every god forsaken hour; I can’t focus on my work when the noises are so distracting. At this point, I remember their begging more than I’m familiar with nerves. I need to study, okay? I really want to graduate.”

He fell silent at your sudden rant, then, he tilted his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “You think I have a pretty face?”

“After everything I said, that’s all you remember?”

“It’s kind of hard to listen to every word when I’m distracted by your eyes.”

His comment caught you off-guard, and your eyes widened, arm coming up to hide your face that soon began to felt warm. He only chuckled at your reaction, the sound deep and throaty that it went right straight into the pools of your belly. “My eyes – what are you talking about? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You’re so creepy!”

“Hmm,” he snickered, “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“What, no one tells you you’re creepy?”

“No, people always say I’m handsome,” he said it with such a straight face that you gave him an are you serious look, and he raised one shoulder to shrug. “I’m surprised you’re not attracted to me, to be honest.”

“Wow,” you drawled out, shaking your head with a laugh as you plopped down back to your seat in defeat. “Aren’t you full of surprises? First, I get a really horny man as my next door neighbor who keeps me up at night with his shenanigans, and now he’s got the audacity to ask me why I’m not attracted to him?”

“I mean,” he scrunched his nose cutely, a huge contrast to his domineering stature. “Why aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I give up. I’m just gonna crash at my friends tonight,” you mumbled to yourself while gathering your things, leaving your neighbor all by himself. As you reached the door, you called out to him one more time, “Oh, and by the way, you reek of pussy. Go shower or something.”

“So how’s your exams going?”

“They’re fine,” you lied through gritted teeth, slicing through the fish a lot harsher than you intended. The knife scraped against the plate and you winced at the sound, ignoring your father’s loud munching. “Not too much of a big deal. My professors are nice and my classmates are nice too. I’m fitting in really well and I think I’ll even come out on top of my class this time if it weren’t for that stupid little bastard…” your last words ended up as a whisper, eyes glazing to the side as you glared at nothing in particular.

“Stupid little what?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you waved your hand in the air, “Someone’s just distracting me from my studies, is all.”

At the mention of someone distracting your usually composed and unbothered self, your father straightened up in his seat, a large smile on his face that made him look younger than he really was. “Is it a guy? Do you finally have a boyfriend?”

“Ugh, dad, really, you’re the only father who’s so eager for his daughter to have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be more proud that, I don’t know, I’m pretty and smart? I don’t need a boyfriend or anything.”

Your father nodded, “True, you don’t need them, but trust me when I say life is going to get pretty lonely when you grow old and you’re all by yourself. It’s still better – and life is a lot happier – when you’ve got a stable supporting and loving figure in your life.”

“I have you for that.”

“And you always will,” he patted your hand gently across the table, “But a parent won’t always be there for their child, and if you’re still not prepared for the future or ready to stand on your own two feet, then that means I didn’t do a great job at raising you; that means I’ve failed as a parent. Tell me, have I failed? Have I raised my wonderful daughter to be so repulsed by the idea of love that she’s willingly closing her doors and locking herself away in isolation?”

“No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he grinned to himself, and you watched with a frown as his eyes crinkled in happiness. Your father was such the complete opposite of you; he was always so loving and open to everyone, while you were mopey and afraid of attachment.

“Don’t be too afraid to love, child. It’s one of the most wonderful things in this world – it’s a blessing – the absolute core of our being. Why do we exist if not to love?”

“Not everyone is a romantic like you, dad,” you sighed, “Plus…how is it so easy for you to finally find someone after Mom died? Isn’t she your soul mate?” you questioned, putting your fork and knife down as you looked your father in the eye. “I just can’t believe you’re getting married again.”

“It’s already been years since she passed away, Y/N. And yes, she is my soul mate, but that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone again. Our hearts aren’t limited like that, and your mother wouldn’t want me to keep mourning her when she’s resting in peace,” he gestured to the both of you after swallowing his food, “She would’ve wanted the both of us to be happy.”

At the mention of your passed mother, your shoulders deflated, and your eyes watered at the thought of her kind smile. You wished you could see that again.

“I miss her…”

“I know, child, I know,” your father smiled encouragingly, “I also know the reason you’re so afraid to love is because you’re scared they’ll end up leaving you too, like how your mom just slipped past our fingers like that, but it’s only her body that withered. She’s still with us, right in our hearts and in our memories.”

“You really do sound like a lovesick fool.”

“That’s because I am,” your father laughed with a slap to his knees. When his phone buzzed for his alarm, he quickly dabbed a towel on his lips, standing up to excuse himself. “Now, this lunch was lovely and I dearly missed you, but I need to go back to work. We doctors just never get a break. This is a life you have to prepare for if you want to follow my footsteps.”

“I won’t follow your footsteps – I’ll surpass you.”

“I’ll be waiting for that to happen then,” he announced proudly; pride bursting in his chest at how determined his daughter was. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You squinted at the mischievous look in his eyes, wary of what your cunning father had in mind this time.

“You won’t outsmart me. You better bring a boyfriend or at least introduce someone to me on the wedding – or else I’m pulling you out of the university hospital.”

“Wha – Dad, that’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war, child, you’ll learn soon.”

“Oh, I just hate men!”

You really did hate men.

Your final exam was tomorrow already and you’d lost count of the coffee and Red Bull you’ve inhaled today, all so you could study one last time for the test, but no, something – or rather someone – just had to get in your way.

“I’ve had enough,” you announced before slamming your door open; not hesitating as your fists came banging down on your neighbor’s door. “Hey! Keep it the fuck down – someone’s trying to study here! Seriously, man, is it really that hard for you to keep it in your pants for one night? This is what, the sixth woman you’ve had around the past four days? Don’t you get tired? Because I sure as hell am very tired of you!”

The moans and the sounds of bed creaking stopped. For a moment, you almost smirked to yourself when they fell silent.

If only you knew it would be that easy to shut them up, you would’ve done so long ago. You were about to turn back into your room when his door swung open, and you were met by his sweaty and muscular chest heaving up and down – either in anger or from his previous activities – you couldn’t tell.

Your throat felt dry as you peered at him under your lashes, almost afraid of the way he loomed over you. Thank goodness he found the time to wear pants, though, because had he been baby naked, you would’ve run for the hills already.

His dark eyes cut through yours as he seethed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m the one who wants to ask you that,” you were surprised to find your voice despite the way your pussy actually ached just by the sight of his chiseled body, but when you did, you forced yourself to stand up taller, refusing to back down from his gaze. “It’s literally three in the morning and you’re about to fuck a hole through my wall!”

“I thought you said you’d be crashing at your friends. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I had to have your permission to come back home. Next time, I’ll give you a heads-up, good sir. And for your information, unlike you, I actually don’t like bothering the people around me so I came home. Now would you please kick her out and shut the fuck up for once?”

“Babe, are you coming back here or what?”

Red acrylic nails wound from his body out of nowhere, and your mouth fell open as you watched the naked woman press kisses on the blades of his shoulder. You were conflicted, torn between feeling jealous that she got to touch him like that because damn was he fine, but you also felt appalled your neighbor would be this type of person.

“Babe?” you repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

Stepping away from your neighbor’s tempting pecs, you waved to the stunning woman behind him. “Hi, I’m his neighbor, I don’t mean to be a cock block or anything but I’ve been a witness to his fuckboy ways for months now. If you think you’re special to him, I assure you, you’re not. Yesterday he was just banging two girls until the sunrise. If you’re really as sane as I hope you are, I suggest you skedaddle before this man feeds you with more lies. You’re not special, hun, he’s just going to fuck everything that walks on two legs.”

“Is that true?”

“Nadia, you know how this works—”

“I was literally just on the phone with you last night!” the woman named Nadia pushed him away, but because he was bigger, he didn’t budge. Nadia turned to you, her lipstick smudged and a suspicious white stain on the edge of her lips. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look down her head, and you and your neighbor both watched as she got dressed and left, hands up in the air. “Thank you for this. I should’ve known better than to waste time and money on him.”

You snickered as Nadia pressed on the elevator buttons, a scowl sent his way. Turning to him with pride swelling up in your chest, you smirked, “How does it feel—”

“Happy now?” he growled, his eyes so dark and slit into tiny cuts you took a step back, your heart pumping frantically for different reasons. You never thought he’d be this bothered for not being able to bust a nut. “Satisfied now, Y/N? Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”

“Uhm, yes,” you scoffed, matching his tone. “I just saved that poor girl’s life. Who else knows what you would’ve done and said to her. We don’t deserve to be looked down on and treated like this, you know.”

“Neither did I. I’m just doing my job.”

“Job? You don’t even have a job! You don’t even go to university for fuck’s sake – your apartment is rundown and smells like sour cunt and feet! Maybe you should even thank me because I’m trying to give you ideas on better things to do!”

“Yeah, and be like you?” he snapped, tugging at the strings of your hoodie until you fell a step forward. “Dressed in loose shirts to hide the fact you’ve got no tits and your ass is flatter than your back? Lying to her neighbor that she’ll crash somewhere but ends up waddling back home anyway because she’s always cooped up in her apartment studying to prove that she’s not as worthless as she is and that she doesn’t have a life or friends to begin with?” tears pooled at your eyes at his words, and you knew it hurt because it was true, but did he really have to say it that way?

However, his anger got the best of him, and he didn’t stop there. “I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to skip meals and lose sleep studying for something I don’t care about because I don’t know anything else other than following daddy’s footsteps so he’d notice me more than his new bride. I’m happy with my life.”

“How did—”

“Like you said, the walls are thin. You’re not exactly so quiet to yourself, neighbor. It’s kind of pathetic you talk to the walls when you think I’m asleep because you’ve got no one else to talk to.”

Hands balled into fists at your side, you stood on your tiptoes to spit the words out. “You’re a terrible human being,” no matter how much you tried to exert dominance over him, your lips still quivered as you fought back the urge to cry. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You’re the one who needs to go fuck yourself and get laid,” he didn’t let you have another word as he slammed the door in your face, but you still heard him through the door anyway. “Uptight bitch.”

You were wrong.

Your neighbor wasn’t just difficult – he was completely impossible.

[Dad:] Don’t forget your date!

[You:] Dad…don’t push it.

[Dad:] I find it hard to believe my beautiful daughter can’t have one. Go out there and make some friends, Y/N, I know you isolate yourself too much. It doesn’t even have to be a boyfriend. You could date a girl for all I care. I just don’t want you to be too bored at the wedding. Bring a friend.

[You:] Fine, fine, okay.

[Dad:] But a boyfriend would still be better. Your old man isn’t getting any younger and I want grandkids in the future.

[You:] Dad!

[Dad:] love ya kid !

And so it was the turn of your events that had you groaning in your swiveling chair, the grip on your phone so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up breaking it. As if your week couldn’t get any more horrible with your neighbor’s hurtful words still living at the back of your mind, your father hadn’t stopped talking about you to his co-workers and his equally crazy mother that your grandmother didn’t waste time in calling you.

You loved your nan, you really did, but more often than not, she was much more of a pain in the ass than your father was. The old woman was ruthless, shooting you question by question on why her pretty granddaughter was still single, then came the demeaning comments of how you “weren’t living life to the fullest.”

Frustration eating away at you, you let out a silent scream.

The escort site blinked back at you mockingly, temptingly, as if to remind you that your problems could easily be solved with just a click. You chastised yourself for always having the need to solve problems fast and as easily as you could, because before you even realized what you were doing, your heart started beating a mile a minute as the other line kept ringing.

You ended up lying to your grandmother that yes, nan, I have a boyfriend, can I study for my exams now please, to which the pressing woman responded with, oh, finally! well, I won’t bother you anymore. study well, my dear, I can’t wait to see him!

Just thinking about how she would react if you came alone at your father’s wedding had you breaking out in a sweat, and you chewed at your nails while waiting for the site to pick up.

You were truly desperate now, so much so that you were actually calling a rental boy site.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kamo Escorts! I’m Ijichi, here to assist you. What can I help you with?”

You held back a really painful cringe, biting the insides of your cheek as you got your heart to calm down. “Uhm, yeah…so this is like my first time c-calling a site like this and I don’t know what to do but…yeah.”

“I see, we get new callers too. Would you like a guide?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great thank you.”

“Kamo Escorts is all about, well, as you can see on our webpage – we have men and even women you can hire to escort you on special events. We mostly cater to clients who only need a pretty face to dangle off their arm for social company or even care, or whatever reasons the client may have and the relationship is purely business and professional, but in some cases, the escorts may have sex with the client too under the condition they are paid more.”

The gasp that left your lips was barely stifled, and you furrowed your brows at the implication. “Wh-what, so that’s like a real thing? Isn’t this…?”

Ijichi chuckled from the other line, almost as if he’d been asked this question many times before. “In a way, it is, which is why Kamo Escorts is commercially advertised for purely social company only. You may, however, negotiate with your escort if you would like more services, but we do require that you keep our escorts’ dignity and not look down on them. The service we provide may not be your typical honorable one, but we are dedicated and equally eager to be of service to this society. Should we find that you’re dehumanizing or harassing our escort, we won’t hesitate to…take some action,” the light warning of his tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and Ijichi took note of your hesitant silence. “Would you still like to proceed?”

“Ye-yeah, I didn’t want the sex anyway.”

“Very well, then. What event are we looking for?”

“It’s for a relative’s wedding,” you supplied, “I need a date.”

“Any preference in escorts? Male, female, tall, short, sociable or introverted?”

Your eyes widened, your back flattening against your chair. “Oh, wow, so this is like a Build-A-Bear, okay, wait,” you chewed your nails again, racking up on your mind on who or what exactly you liked. “My ideal guy is…someone tall, and has pretty broad shoulders…I think I prefer a more introverted one too because people with too much energy sort of drains me…and someone caring and attentive, yes. Handsome too – but if that’s too much to ask for then—”

“It’s okay, Miss. I assure you all our escorts are definitely blessed in the gene department.”

At his confidence, you scrunched your nose and made yourself small on your chair. “Okay, but now that you say it, if he’s too handsome then I’m going to look like a potato next to him.”

“We’ll find someone compatible for you; we always never fail to please our clients. We’ll be able to match you with a more suitable escort if you’re more descriptive with what you want.”

“Okay, okay,” you continued, “Oh, and I like guys with long hair too, but really, anything is fine. I just want someone to effortlessly pretend they’re enamored after just one date and that they’re very glad to be there with me on the wedding. It’s even better if they’re introverted but can communicate well and isn’t shy at all. My relatives are kind of…freaky.”

Freaky couldn’t even begin to describe the chaos of your relatives.

In fact, had you not been paying for this service, you would’ve almost felt bad for the guy. He had no idea what he had coming for him – but then again, neither did you.

“I think we’ve got just the perfect guy for you,” Ijichi answered after a beat, “May I ask when is this event and how long you’d like to book the escort service for?”

“The event is in two weeks. I don’t need to meet him before the wedding because I’m very busy with exams, so I hope this guy can just act really well. As for the duration…I think just one day is enough. After the wedding, I’m coming right back home.”

“Convenient then,” he mused to himself, and you heard slight clicking from his side. “Let’s see…someone introverted and able to communicate well…definitely not Satoru, and his entirely booked by sugar mommies too…” Ijichi whispered to himself, followed by a slight humorous snort. “One last question: would you like someone older, younger, or the same age as you?”

“I’m in uni – I’d be more comfortable if they were closer to my age.”

“Oh, perfect, his schedule is oddly open for the whole month. Wonder what happened, he’s barely had free slots before…” the man was speaking to himself again, and you sat there pouting, even more dumbfounded at how this whole process worked.

Ijichi talked about this escort service and guided you so easily you almost couldn’t believe that it was as…simple as that. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but deep down in your mind, you were waiting for something fishy or weird to happen.

“I found someone for you. He’s one of our best escorts and I believe he’ll be great for this event. However, due to privacy issues, the disclosure of contacts and personal information can only happen once the escort agrees to this service. We’ll shortly get back to you if he’s up for the job. If not, I’ll find you another one quickly; you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, thank you so much!”

“It’s our pleasure. Thank you for contacting Kamo Escorts – we hope to see you again!”

Once the call ended, you fell back on your bed with a sigh. Your neighbor wasn’t around the whole day, leaving you in peace and silence, and you took advantage of the rare quietness by pulling out a book. Hours passed, and you were nearly finished with half the textbook, fingers slightly numb from practicing sutures over and over again when your phone lit up with a text.

It came from an unknown number, but the words were loud and clear. Hey, this is Choso, I’ll be your escort for the wedding. Please text me here for the details and what else you expect from my service. I’m only a text and call away, please don’t hesitate to ask me for anything else.

You blinked at your phone, unsure of how to process the whole thing.

So it was official now – you rented an escort and you had a date for the event. Quite frankly, you were kind of expecting that escorts would be a lot more…flirtatious or even eager to please, but this Choso guy sounded too formal for you to picture yourself having this stranger be a good company for your event. Ijichi sounded so sure though that you no longer questioned it; smiling instead now that you’ve finally solved one of your problems.

Life felt a lot easier.

At around four in the morning, you were too worn out to keep going. Your exam was in the afternoon so you still had plenty of time to sleep, your stomach grumbled, prompting you to leave your unit to get some snacks.

Keys in hand and feet cold in your socks, you locked your door, halting in your steps when you saw your neighbor. Different from his usual comfortable clothing, he was dressed in a formal white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his large, masculine hands coming up to loosen his tie. He wasn’t aware of your presence, almost blindly walking to his door and sighing. You didn’t miss the fact his shoulders were slumped, and he looked absolutely worn out.

For a moment, you actually felt worried, until you remembered what he said to you.

“What, no pussy to fuck tonight?”

He froze in front of his door for a moment, slightly tilting back to see your aggravated stance. Upon seeing it was just you, he shook his head and turned back to unlock his door. “No thanks to you.”

“Aw, did I ruin your reputation?” you mocked sarcastically, “I’m surprised people aren’t smart enough to pick up the smell of women’s perfume on you already. Seriously, are people that desperate for touch?” It was ironic; you’d never admit it, but you weren’t any better than them. You were equally desperate to be touched despite your aversion to romantic relationships, but he didn’t need to know that.

“It’s normal when you’re someone people are naturally attracted to. Not that you’d get it, of course, because it’s clear you don’t get some.”

“At least my apartment doesn’t smell like pussy.”

“At least I don’t masturbate every night then pass out after one weak orgasm.”

Your cheeks burned at his offhanded comment, and even with his back turned to you, you could see the slight smile tugging at his cheeks. He must’ve felt so cocky, thinking that he’d defeated you, so you blurted out the most intelligent thing possible: “How dare you!” while grabbing onto his shoulders to make him face you. “Look me in the eye and take that back!”

“Whatever you’re planning,” he crooned, head tilted to the side and making strands of his bangs fall over his eyes. He looked absolutely handsome under the flickering lights of the hallway in that moment, and you hated how you weren’t able to take your hands off of his strong shoulders, his masculine and spicy perfume clouding your mind. “It’s not going to work. Surprise surprise, but you’re not as cute as you think you are.”

Your eyes burned with fire, the nerves in your body so closing to popping. He infuriated you so much. “And you’re not as sexy as you believe you are!”

“Oh, yeah?” The positions are suddenly switched as he cornered you beside his doorframe, both of his arms planted beside your head. Because he was taller, he had to lean down to look you in the eye, his warm, minty breath brushing over your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, fingers raking over the wall in a silent attempt to flee. Upon seeing your pursed lips, he laughed.

“Then why are you so shaky? Do I make you nervous?” his head dipped down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Say…you only pretend to hate me, but you actually wish it was you I’m fucking every night, don’t you? Tell me…do you touch yourself when you hear me eating someone out?”

“I-I’m not—”

Before you could combust under his gaze, he pulled himself away from you, a satisfied smirk on his face at your flustered state. He chuckled lowly, keys spinning on his thick finger. “I was just teasing you, princess. No need to get so worked up.”

“I never want you near me again!”

He raised both brows as if to challenge you, and you knew from the glint in his eyes he was up to no good. “Princess, you jumped on me first.”

“I didn’t!” You shouted, immediately slapping your palm over your lips after realizing people were sleeping. He snickered at your reactions, and you pushed past him back to your unit, suddenly losing the appetite to get your precious snacks. “God, I hate you so much.”

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

Difficult. Unbelievable. Complicated. Idiotic. Nothing was ever easy with him.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” your father scolded from his chair, his body barely moving as the stylists fixed his hair and makeup, but his eyes glared at you from the mirror. “You’re a lot more nervous than I am, and it’s my wedding.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.”

Your father sighed to himself, standing up after they were done with him. He checked his appearance in the mirror for a while, nodding to himself in satisfaction. It was still a little surreal that he was going to get married again, to a woman half his age of all people, but he was happy, and his bride seemed to really love him too, so you no longer questioned your father’s decisions. He was an adult, anyway, he could make his own decisions.

“You’re waiting for your boyfriend, you say?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

You stiffened at the question. Not wanting your sharp-eyed father to pick up on the smallest cues, you lied through your teeth despite not having any idea on who or what kind of person the escort was.

Other than discussing details of how you two supposedly met, conversations had been crisp and short. You were lucky that the escort seemed to be nice and smart enough to not always ask you to explain everything, and he was crisp and curt in his texts too. No flirty or suggestive messages, not even a single emoji. He seemed a little stiff, and while you worried if you could fake chemistry with someone who seemed like a wall, you were also assured by the fact he wasn’t some creep.

“Nice. He’s sweet. You’ll like him.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“Dad, do I have to tell this story all over again?” you groaned, “We met after exams, he goes to a different uni and he studies law—”

“Law. Impressive.”

“Of course you’re impressed,” you rolled your eyes. Coming from a family of doctors and engineers, your father, and pretty much everyone else in the family, also expected that you’d date someone who was equally intelligent and had enough connections in different industries at least. It just so happened you were really lucky your escort also really did study law for a bit before he became an escort; a detail you never got enough explanation for. “He’ll be here anytime soon. Just you wait.”

In reality, you were the one who couldn’t wait.

You were excited and nervous at the same time to see this mysterious escort, and you were in the middle of talking to your father and his bride when someone called you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around with a bright grin. That must be him! You clasped at the hems of your dress so you could meet this mysterious, rigid man properly, but the moment your eyes met his equally startled gaze, you choked on your own breath. “Y-you—”

Choso stood before you; handsome as ever in his suit and tie, his iconic twin tails still there. How ever would your father believe you now that he was a lawyer, especially with his messy hair and face tattoo? You loved it and found it sexy on him, no denying that, but your father was a little bit more traditional. But that aside, it was Choso?!

His professionalism arose and he regained his composure quicker than you did, the smile on his face so natural and alluring even you almost fell for it.

Choso wrapped an arm around your waist before kissing you on the cheek, and the skin felt extremely hot under his lips. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, because Choso was pressed flush against you, and he looked at you with stars shining in his eyes you didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Maybe a fucked up mix of both.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad,” he explained with a small smile on his lips, and he looked so handsome and smelled so good in that moment you were left gaping at him as he bowed to your father, arm politely extended. “You must be Y/N’s father. It’s very nice to meet you sir. I’m her boyfriend, Choso.”

To your surprise, your father eagerly shook his hand with the brightest grin he’d worn the whole night before he faced you with a laugh. “No way,” he beamed, gesturing to Choso. “He’s your boyfriend? You managed to snag this fine man?”

“Dad!” your ears burned with embarrassment. Choso only laughed; making you painfully aware of his large, warm hand resting at the small of your back.

“I heard you’re a lawyer, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your father nodded in approval, the two exchanging over words about what his plans were for the future and how his studies were going. You stood there with a pounding heart, fearful that Choso could fuck up any moment, but he was so effortless and easy going. Had you not been the one paying him, you would’ve been fooled too.

So this was the life of an escort.

“So how much did my daughter pay you?”

“Dad, I didn’t—”

“I mean, there’s no way she actually charmed you with her non-existent social skills. My daughter here can’t even talk to someone and look them in the eye, much less ask someone out, so how did this happen?”

Choso laughed at your father’s lighthearted comment, saving the day for what seemed like the hundredth time already. “I approached her first, sir. We were both eating in this small diner and it was cramped, so we shared tables and started conversation,” Suddenly, his grip tightened on you as he pulled you closer, your ear now resting above the lulling and steady beating of his heart. How was he so calm?

He lightly squeezed your hip and it had you freezing under his touch, stiffening even more when he looked down at you so adoringly. “Guess it went downhill from there.” God, you had no idea who this man was.

“Really? What did you guys talk about?”

Choso opened his mouth to speak, but it was there, that damned glint on those dark eyes again that you clutched at his bicep. He may be damn good at this job, but knowing Choso, he was enjoying this way too much.

Anything you couldn’t predict or control properly was a huge no in your game, and you pulled Choso away before he could say something downright humiliating.

“Dad, just go focus on your wedding. I want to spend time with my boyfriend, okay?” You couldn’t even begin to fathom the inward cringe upon your words, the feeling only worsening when Choso fought back a laugh masked with a cough. Before your father could say anything else, you dragged Choso rather harshly, but he didn’t mind; he followed you obediently. “Come with me. I need to talk to you,” You didn’t stop until you were both alone in a desolated corner, and finally, you hissed at him. “What are you doing here?!”

“I should be asking you the same thing – but it turns out you’re my client.”

“Client? So you really are my escort?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So those women…”

“All my clients,” he confirmed your thoughts. “I assure you they knew what they were getting into. In fact, they were the ones who asked for that special service that caused you to lose your sleep every night. That woman the other day was just pissed because she booked me for three days, but I lied that I was available until the duration she wanted when I wasn’t.”

“You mean you were still working an escort for somebody else?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“It’s more money,” Choso stared down at his hands before his eyes flitted back up to yours, his face unreadable. “I’m saving up so I can move somewhere else. Our apartment isn’t exactly the most ideal considering my profession. I need to find someplace quieter with thicker walls this time,” he smiled, “That way, I’ll no longer bother my sweet neighbor,” your lips felt dry at his words, your tongue darting out to lick at them while Choso scrutinized you under his gaze.

“I have to admit though – you asking for escort service is the last thing I’d ever imagine you doing. Not that I’m complaining since it’s still money in my pocket, but you’re not the most pleasing company to be with.”

“Oh, you bet, Choso. Had I known you were going to be my escort, I would’ve declined long ago,” you groaned, your head dropping in your hands. “What was Ijichi thinking when he said I would be compatible with you?”

“You’re not,” he stated, “But I am compatible with you – as I am with pretty much everyone else. I’m one of the best escorts, and soon you’ll see why.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by then, but it seemed Choso was quite eager to show his skills off when he dragged you back inside the reception event. The whole time, you couldn’t pay attention to anything or anyone else other than Choso. It still felt hard to believe that the whole time, he really was doing his job, and upon seeing how easily he had people believing you two were an item despite you just standing silently beside him, you felt guilty that you disrupted his “work” like that.

Guilt gnawed at you as Choso made everyone laugh, and soon your relatives were cooing, praising you and congratulating you that you were “happy” now.

Back then, you always looked down on him and even called him a mere fuckboy, but Choso was so much more than that. He was intelligent; his past as a lawyer proved that, and whatever happened that caused him to work in this industry kept lingering in your mind.

There was no denying it now.

You respected this man – admired him even.

“And now it’s time to join the newly married couple on the dance floor! Come on, people, bring your dates up here for a twirl!”

You remained planted in your seat, too comfortable with Choso’s jacket draped around your bare shoulders. You’d lost count of how many times your head ducked down for the lack of sleep, and as much as you loved your dad, you wanted nothing more than to go home and rest.

Choso offered his hand to yours, a teasing smile on his face. He wriggled his eyebrows up and down, and he looked so utterly ridiculous that you couldn’t believe the boring man you were texting was the same infuriating yet undeniably attractive bastard who was your neighbor was the same fun. The world is very small, it seemed, and you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to venture these strange places and feelings.

“Uh-uh. No. I’m not dancing.”

“Two left feet?”

“No, I’m wearing heels. My feet hurts.”

“Then take it off.”

“And get my feet dirty?” you scoffed. As if to prove your point, you snuggled deeper into his jacket that smelled heavenly like him, closing your eyes as you pretended to sleep. “Sitting here isn’t so bad. Plus, look at them, all staring at each other with goo-goo eyes. It’s revolting,” you shuddered.

Through the sickeningly romantic music playing in the background, Choso fell silent. You cracked an eye open, frowning when Choso studied each of your features carefully. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem to hate the idea of love.”

“Because it’s pointless.”

Choso narrowed his eyes at your answer, brows bunching up at the way your shoulders squared to keep yourself away. Then, he stood up and sighed, offering his hand to you once more.

“I won’t really ask you to explain why, because frankly, I don’t care,” you stared at his large palms for a few seconds. There must be a ghost possessing your body because you looped your fingers through his and allowed him to guide you on the dance floor despite your mind’s protests, and soon, Choso’s eyes were all over you. “But if you don’t want your money to go down the drain and you really want to convince everyone, I suggest you forget about that mindset for just a few more hours,” his voice dropped down to a low whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes turned solemn, his hand on your waist gentle. “Dance with me. Let’s show them how madly in love we are with each other.”

“We met just last week, remember?”

“Love at first sight, princess,” Choso kissed your forehead, sending your heart thumping and running to another dimension. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind, and your hands travelled from his strong arms to his broad shoulders instinctively. “Take your heels off. You can step on my feet and I’ll dance for us both. Just put your arms around my neck – yes just like that,” he nodded with a smile when your fingertips nervously played with his hair, and Choso began to dance you both in time with the music. “Are you good?”

“I don’t like this lack of space between us.”

Choso smirked, “Why, do I get you all hot and bothered?”

“Jesus, Choso, you can’t be serious for a minute, huh?”

“It’s kind of hard to be serious when you’re so flustered and adorable right now,” you pulled at his hair in response, but of course, he wasn’t really hurt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, but you refused, keeping your gaze planted on your bare feet on top of his again. “Hey. I said look at me,” he tilted your chin up until you’re forced to be like prey under his gaze, his breath tickling the bow of your lips. “I am your escort for tonight – and I humbly ask that you do your part as my client so I can perform my job well. I need you to look into my eyes and pretend you’re in love with me.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone,” you suddenly admitted, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be,” he replied, softly this time, and his hands ran down tenderly to your hips to pull you closer to him. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

You couldn’t remember who leaned in first. The only thing you remembered was that the music faded in the background when you kissed him – or maybe he kissed you – fuck, you didn’t really remember. Eventually, the kiss grew too heated, his hands squeezing your waist while you moan at the taste of chocolate and wine on his expert tongue.

Choso easily read your mind and swooped you away from the crowd, the both of you stumbling until you made it out to the venue and onto the beach.

The salty air kissed your skin while Choso carried you bridal style, arms looped around his neck while he kept moving his lips above yours. He was laughing through the kiss with how messy and eager you were, tugging at his shirt to encourage him to unbutton it. Choso set you both down on the darker, isolated part of the beach where nothing but the sound of waves lapping against one another could be heard with your breathless pants and his chuckles.

You were lying on his jacket, dress bunched up to your chest while your legs were spread wide open for him. “Ch-Choso,” you choked out when his tongue ran flat across your slick folds, his hands keeping your hips pinned down to the sand. “I-I, please.”

“I got you, princess,” was all he said before he completely dived into your heat, his sharp nose brushing into your cunt.

It didn’t take long until you were spasming in his hold, legs closing around his head. Choso groaned into your pussy, a finger working its way inside your sopping cunt while he licks and slurps your arousal like it was fucking water. Now you understood why those girls always lost their mind – Choso was a fucking expert when it came to worshipping pussy.

Choso pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he was kind, eager to please you that he immediately replaced it with his tongue.

You cried out when you felt his tongue entering your hole, one thumb pulling the hood of your lips up to reveal your sensitive pearl. Choso rubbed your clit fervently, his other hand reaching up to squeeze and tug at your breasts while he drank your juices dripping down his tongue as if you would be his last meal – and he honestly wished you were, because you tasted like heaven on him and he wanted more.

Once he felt you clamping down on his tongue so tightly he struggled to retrieve his warm muscle back, he helped you reach your high by pinching your clit. You moaned out his name, the sound sending blood straight down his cock, and he groaned into your pussy the moment you grinded on his face as you relaxed from your orgasm.

Choso didn’t give you the chance to recover from your orgasm, pulling you up to his lap before he’s kissing you again. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his tongue, his face and cheeks sweet from your arousal and cum.

You should be ashamed, but you couldn’t find a single bone in your body that felt shy right now. Choso was right – there was no point in being shameful when it came to your pleasure.

The kiss was sloppy, more tongue than lips and teeth clashing onto another. Choso grinded you on his hardened erection in search of your heat that would bring him relief, but he slowed down and pulled away from you, a string of saliva connected from your lips. He wanted you – wanted to fuck you so badly – so he searched your eyes for the answer when you aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Is this okay? Are you sure with this?”

“Yeah,” you gritted your teeth when his tip entered your tight cunt, your walls sucking him in greedily already. Choso’s head dropped down to your shoulder, his teeth sinking down to your shoulder. You slowly sat down on his thick length, but then froze before he could bottom out. “Wait, no, I’m broke! I can’t pay for your extra services!”

“It’s free for you, princess,” he rasped out, “Now sit on my lap so I can feel you around me already.”

“Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

Through the pleasure that had his abs rippling, Choso managed a laugh. “You might want to get used to it.”

“Why would I?” you breathed out, eyes shutting tight once he fully slid into you. He allowed you to get used to the sudden stretch; it had been too long since you’ve been touched this way that you were impossibly tight around him right now. Your chest rose and fall with each faltering breath, your nails running down his back when Choso gave a deep, experimental thrust that immediately hits your sweet spot.

You moaned, cheek resting on his shoulder as Choso set the pace, squeezing your ass as he bounced you up and down his cock. “You’re gone after this. Once this contract is over, you’re moving away and I won’t get to see you anymore. I-I won’t lose sleep anymore after hearing you fuck all those women and gosh, I hate you so much, you know that?”

“I hated you too,” he groaned through your skin, “Or at least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Hurt? I would never hurt you,” Really, you praised yourself for still being able to form coherent sentences even after Choso kept fucking into you.

“I’m an escort, princess, I’m everybody’s and nobody’s at the same time,” he explained almost angrily, and his lips zealously sucked love bites to the sensitive flesh of your neck, “Even if you won’t hurt me, we’re bound to crash and burn at some point. This is why we’re not allowed to get attached to anyone,” his lips brushed over her collarbone, his canines dragging along to make red marks. “Why we’re not allowed to fall,” he squeezed her breast in the palm of his hand, twisting the peaked nipple until you whined, hips bucking deeper into his cock. “Why we’re not allowed to love.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ve always liked you,” he laughed through the pleasure, holding your hips down so he could drive his cock deeper into you. Yes, he was selfish, yes, he was frustrated – and his feelings burst through the way Choso powered into you. You fell limp in his arms and he easily caught you like he always did, his eyes blown wide as he stared right into your eyes, his dick still pummeling through your gummy walls.

Choso inhaled sharply when you clenched down on him, an elongated moan spilling past your lips. “I liked you the moment you moved in and you fell flat on your face before you could greet me.”

“Shut up, don’t remind me of that!” you raked your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood, and Choso concealed the pain with light chuckle, the pain only prompting him to absolutely use you. “You’re seriously bringing it up now when you’re – ah, fuck – b-buried in me?”

Choso tugged at one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, the sudden change of angle had you pressing down deeper into him. It felt like you were sinking closer and closer to his cock, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you’re crying out in his arms, scratches evident on his back.

“For now,” he breathed out, “I want to at least be selfish enough to want you now, just for now if fate won’t still allow it.”

“W-we can try,” you said in your lust-filled gaze, lips crashing down messily to his while you bounced on him, your hips slamming down at the same to meet his thrusts. “It’s not going to be easy, but we can try, right?” You cupped his face, surprised with the sudden vulnerability from his hooded eyes, looking so innocent and beautiful as if he wasn’t painting your insides white.

“Okay,” he nodded, brows pinching together. And that was all the both of you needed before Choso sank his fangs down the column of your neck to hold on his low groans; your head thrown back as you both drown in the pleasure of being with one another.

In the blink of an eye, all tenderness is Choso’s touches replaced by the hunger in his eyes and the power of his lust-filled thrusts. You were a moaning mess by the time your hips sit flat on his pelvic bone and his balls brush on your ass from how deep he was hitting you, and you felt his teeth nibble at the side of your breasts again as he warned, “But for now, I’m not going to go easy on you – not when I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve been so hard for you these all time.”

And you allowed him. Because nothing was ever easy with Choso, but for him, you’d try pushing through hell and back.

[queenlua]

jaggedwolf what's your favorite thing about seattle?

1) access to nature.  i love cities, and always knew i wanted to live in one as an adult, but my brief time in NYC taught me i would go entirely insane if i was entirely in a concrete jungle all the time.  (central park is not enough!  prospect park is not enough!!!)  seattle offers a wonderful compromise: the first time i came here, i was losing my entire mind about how green everything was, and i kept blabbering to the cab driver like “is it always like this???” and he kept chuckling and saying “welcome to seattle.”  there are better cities, and there’s better nature, but i don’t know anyplace that does both quite this well

2) summers.  which, i’m fully aware, sounds stockholm-syndrome-y; when i first moved here, the folks who said “oh, the summers make everything so worth it” sounded utterly deranged to me.  all four seasons gotta be worth it, babe!!!  and all four seasons are worth it, but summer... is way more worth it than most, lol.  everyone goes kind of insane in the best possible way, everyone’s outside 20 hours a day, everyone is in love with everyone else and also the whole world, and every variety of good vibe possible is flowing through the streets, it’s amazing

3) there’s this ~*~ vibe ~*~ i feel when i go to new cities, which i don’t talk about much because it feels like total mystic woo shit, but.  it is a sensation i experience!  anyway, seattle’s ~*~vibe~*~ is this very unique, edge-of-the-universe kinda thing—it’s weird that you can be in a hoppin’ crufty bar with a bunch of townies one minute, then wander across the street to a crazy nightclub, then wander a few blocks north and be on this windswept cliff and it’s dark and moody and dramatic, and it feels like if you fell off you wouldn’t just fall into the sound but maybe off the edge of the whole universe?  it’s a weirdly isolated place, for such a large city—gotta get on a plane to get anywhere near as interesting—and it feels a little scary and lonely sometimes but in a way i love.  (cities with similarly strong vibes: montreal, boston, kushiro JPN)

4) the people.  which is kind of the point of any city, in the end?  the best city on earth is hell if the scene you’ve fallen into sucks; the worst city in the world fucking rules if you’ve found your people.  like, there’s an alternate reality where i took the job in Washington DC instead of here, or the job in Louisville instead of here, or whatever, and i’m sure i’d grow to love those places just as much.  but this is the place i fell in love, and fell in with an old friend i met from an online RPG literal years before i moved to her city, and fell in with some locals and some transplants and—everyone.  place has a lot of problems but also a lot of good and i’m pretty ride-or-die at this point, lol

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo 2

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ Oral M receiving, daddy kink, someone walks in

Word count: 5.7k

Chapter Two

The light streaming in through the window woke you up. You curled up in the soft silk sheets, listening to Hannibal’s hums coming from the bathroom. Deciding there wasn’t much more to do than doze, you did just that, taking your time to enjoy your Monday morning. His bed was much softer than the hand me down one you kept at home. You really could lay here forever.

It wasn’t until the bed dipped that you opened your eyes. He was all ready dressed and groomed to the nines. The navy sweater and grey trousers seemed as homey as the man allowed himself to be.

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted.

“Good morning, darling.” Hannibal cupped your face gently, smiling when you leaned into his touch. “It’s marvelous to see you so relaxed, it’s not a sight I get to see often. You’re divine.”

“Devine,” you scoffed in disbelief, “I haven’t had a glimpse of it yet, but I’m sure I look nothing less than a wreck.”

Hannibal’s thumb stroked your jaw, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “When it’s my fault you look so utterly debauched, I can’t lie and say my pride doesn’t play a factor.”

“There it is,” you couldn’t help rolling your eyes as you dropped a kiss to his hand, “Always taking pride in everything you do. However, much to your dismay, I’m going to have to destroy your masterpiece. A shower does sound perfect right now.”

“Of course, I took the liberty of running a bath for you.”

“Sweet man,” you smiled fondly at him.

Bringing you closer he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. As always, he left you wanting more. This time though, you didn’t chase after him. The night of fun was done. All that was left was the goodbye to wrap up the event completely. Some part of you wanted to push that time back.

You hummed lightly, “You enjoy making it hard to not miss you.”

“All the sweeter when we reunite.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

He tapped your cheek playfully, “Take your bath. I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re done.”

Getting out of bed, you stretched. Hannibal’s fingertips ghosted along your spine. “From the looks of it, you’d be happier to help.”

“Simply admiring… You truly are a thing of beauty.” he squeezed your hip before taking his hands away, “I’ll leave some of my things for you to wear on the bed.”

Walking into the bathroom, you were taken by the soft scent of nearly familiar perfumes you’d wear, his cologne lingered ever so slightly. A perfect mix of the two. Looking in the mirror, you surveyed the wreckage. Runny mascara, smudged over lipstick, and rather large hickies scattered across your body did make you look like the definition of debauched. The neck didn’t have as much damage, but covering the few there would still be a pain. So much for keeping things hidden from others. Grabbing the pack of makeup wipes on the counter, you started cleaning up knowing you’d find it to be too much of a chore after the bath.

It was welcoming when you finally got into the still warm bath. Hot water made you relax further as your body let go of the last bit of tension it held. The products seemed to match the ones you usually used, if not make yours seem like cheap dupes. Your lip quirked at that realization, the gentleman seemed to have had ulterior motives after all.

You took your time washing up, deciding time to relax was sparse so you may as well take advantage of the small time frame you did have. A soft knock at the door pulled you back to the present. “Afraid I drowned?” You asked teasingly as the door opened.

Hannibal offered a quiet chuckle as he walked over and perched on the side of the tub, “Asleep more like.”

You didn’t bother hiding yourself. He’d probably be able to draw you from memory by now if you were being honest. “I do have a question.”

“What is it, darling?”

You gestured to the soaps, “Did you have any plans in particular for our night?”

“Not exactly. The night ended perfectly- you wouldn’t mind me saying-” Hannibal tapped your chin affectionately when you smiled, “but there wasn’t anything other than pure intentions when I purchased them. The scent reminded me of you and I thought if you drank too much or there was a storm, those kinds of things, it would be good to have something for you to use. Sending you out into possible dangers was never something left to chance. You’d be safer with me.”

“Ever the good host,” you said, taking his word for it, “Thank you for thinking of me, Hannibal.”

“Always.” Hannibal rolled up his sleeves, moving to sit behind you. “Lean back for me.”

You turned to look at him questioningly, “What are you doing?”

“I find it very important to take care of my partners just as much after. You didn’t give me much of a chance last night. While I’m here, I may as well make myself useful.”

Allowing him to turn you forward again before he grabbed the shampoo and conditioner. You sighed heavily as he massaged the shampoo in, his fingers working magic. “You took care of me,” you argued, “Asked me what I wanted and gave it to me. I didn’t want anything else.”

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you,” he stated, running some water through your hair, “I like to make sure nothing was too much or that you’re not telling me if it was.”

“I’m as good as I’ve been in a long time. Really. If I hadn’t wanted something to happen I would have stopped you. Though, if I had known things would have ended like this I would have stopped by when we had more time. Testing before winter break would have been all that much easier.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t be of service earlier,” he mused. “A difficult time that must have been for my sweet girl. Poor thing.”

The urge to sink into the water was strong as you felt the smallest bit of pride at the endearment paired with an equally small bout of jealousy that you shared it with his other partners. It was snuffed out quickly. Perhaps you’d entertain this for a while, but it wouldn’t last. He liked a life that was above and usually too stiff compared to your own. The pair of you weren’t meant to work long term and that was fine. A simple passing thing between friends was the most this would be.

-

Things went back to business as usual after that night. There weren't any intense feelings or need for Hannibal. There wouldn’t be any time to entertain the idea even if they had popped up. Not with this insane work piled on top of you and the final test you needed to study up on. The most you had seen him was in passing or when he’d drop off a meal every so often. Though you wouldn’t lie and say your mind hadn’t found itself wandering every so often.

There was nothing you could do about that, so instead you took shifts, grading work then studying. Rinse and repeating the cycle as long as you could handle it. Your head was pounding before you knew it, but all of this needed to be done. A little bit longer, you reminded yourself as you took a couple headache pills.

The buzzing of your phone vibrating on the desk startled you. “Hi, dad,” you sighed, stuck with this particular pain.

“Hey, pretty girl, how have you been?”

Pretty girl, you scoffed inwardly. You had to give him credit- at least he was pretending to be interested this time. That was rare. “Nothing much. Work. School. The usual. It’s been heavy lately.”

“Yeah, of course, things get like that. So listen, your mom and I are running real low late-“

“I already told you I wasn’t any good for money. I’m barely making ends meet as it is… I already sent you the last $600 I could,” you rested your head in your hands, “I’m sorry.”

“Well, what the fuck do we send you to that school for,” he shouted, “It’s a waste of time. You’re not gonna make anything of yourself. All you do is waste fucking time. Everything we do for you and you just take it all for granted. What type of selfish bitch of a kid doesn’t try to help out her parents?”

“Yeah, dad, I take everything for granted. Putting myself through school should have been a breeze. Juggling school and two jobs? Simple fucking shit right? You should know, right? Wait… you couldn’t even raise your kid could you?” You snapped the stress getting to you. “Why the hell do you always do this to me?”

No response. He hung up. The truth of the matter seemingly too much for him. No. That was too much credit. He knew you wouldn’t send him anything. Try again some other time. Sighing you set the phone down. Your throat felt like it was closing and your head was pounding. A couple tears fell, soon followed by a quiet sob. You didn’t want anyone to see, but the stress was getting to you. Try as you might, you weren’t made of stone.

You hadn’t noticed when Hannibal had walked in for a usual evening check up. “Darling girl,” his accented voice was laced with worry as he walked toward you, “What’s wrong?” Hannibal crouched near your chair as he wiped away your tears.

“Everything went to my head. It’s nothing. I’m okay,” you swallowed thickly, as you attempted to stop the crying and sniffling, not meeting his eye just yet.

Hannibal grabbed your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. “Nothing more?”

“Nope,” you shook your head, giving him a slight smile, “Just school and a headache. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it.”

He looked you over, not believing you but unwilling in prodding you further. “It seems a break is in order.”

“I can’t, Hannibal,” You gestured to the papers and books around the desk, “The sooner I’m done with all this the better. I just want to go home.”

Hannibal started to pick up your things, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer this time. “We’ll go to my office, you’ll eat, I’ll grade the work and ask you questions. Follow me.” Before you can get a word in, he turned heel, leaving you to quickly scramble behind him.

The office had the same comforting feel his home did. Though you weren’t sure many besides you felt comfort in his presence. Hannibal Lecter was by all means an intimidating man, even when you did feel like you were close to him. Closer now, you corrected thinking about the fading bruises under your shirt and the sweater he had let you borrow that you had yet to return. Still there was something about his presence that invoked a feeling of calm in you, even with that spike of something questionable. He seemed to always have all the answers and knew exactly what to do with any situation.

“Here,” Hannibal placed a Tupperware and drink on your side of the desk, “You really shouldn’t be spreading yourself so thin, love. It isn’t good for such a delicate thing.”

“I’m hardly delicate.” You grabbed the food giving him a grateful smile. “I’ve got it all handled. It’s just finals and everything stacked up. The future. I stumbled a bit, is all.”

Hannibal sat on his side and started shuffling through your papers. “Nonetheless, I wish you didn’t strain yourself so much.”

“Not all our days can be a nice weekend together,” you pecked at the salad, as much as you wanted to grab some papers off the stack you knew he would never allow it, “Life is still as frustrating as ever.”

“What did they say?” Hannibal asked, nipping the problem at the bud. If you wouldn’t start the conversation he would.

You sighed, “Something along the lines of ‘waste of time’ and ‘selfish bitch’ really wasn't the worst thing he's ever said. I was just already at my endpoint. I’m pretty sure if I dropped my pen I would have had a similar reaction.”

“Being at your end doesn’t justify mistreatment.”

“I know,” you shrugged, “but I don’t have it in me to argue anymore. Deaf ears and all that. What’s the point?”

“The point is making it known that you won’t tolerate that behavior.”

“I’m just tired and disappointed. A part of me is considering just going into the world on my own. The only family that really cares has passed on, what’s the point of hoping my parents would ever consider changing.” You coughed lightly, clearing your throat. This was too much of a therapy session for your taste. “I’ve already made it up in my head that I’m going to wait a year before getting back in school. You know, save any penny I can. These past four years even with aid and scholarship money has been hell. I’m going to be 24 and there’s still just so much to do.”

“I can’t say I envy you,” Hannibal shook his head, “The uncertainty in those years is unmatched.”

“It’s hard to imagine you uncertain of anything. You seem to always know exactly what to do.”

Hannibal scoffed lightly, “Only because time has granted me certain wisdoms. When I was younger I was lucky enough to appeal to someone with my artistic talent and stories of my past. Though I’d like to think it was the former that earned me my scholarship. I may not have had the exact struggles you did, but we’ve all been through situations we needed to push past. It comes in time. Once you get there, you’ll go through life with grace.”

“Well, I don’t have any reservations about using my past. Would you be my mentor?” You joked, for the most part.

“A five year forward request,” he mused, “Are you certain you’d enjoy me that much as a mentor?”

“Someone is gonna have to teach me the ropes,” you shrugged, “We’re more than comfortable with each other and I already know how pleasurable time with you can be, why not learn a couple of things from your infinite wisdom?”

His lip quirked, “Glad to know your thoughts are nothing less than wholesome.”

“Only the purest.”

You ate your dinner as he asked questions. It was a bit unfair, probably, you knew he had helped form the test. Then again, you knew your boss and it was more than likely all of Hannibal’s work. So this little run was sure to be a preview of what to expect. Still, the questions he asked were far from simple, despite how much you studied. Sometimes a raised brow would tell you, you needed to think again. Other times you’d get a soft praise thrown your way that would immediately make you think of when he was against you.

“A few more for me, darling girl. You’re doing so well.”

Your face heated up as you remembered the exact moment he said something nearly identical.

Hannibal looked at you over a paper, a smirk playing on his lips, “You’re looking a bit distracted, are you alright?”

“You know what you did, jerk.”

“Do I?” He laughed.

You shook your head, “You’re unbelievable.”

Hannibal continued grading, rattling off questions off the top of his head. You mind however, wandered. Answering his questions absentmindedly, more preoccupied with memories than the matter at hand. The way his hands felt. His breath against your chest as he chased his high. The gentleness the morning after as he helped you into his clothes, giving you a last kiss before breakfast. A lingering regret at not getting to thank him back properly. He would be the perfect distraction now that you thought of it.

“I won’t help you if you prefer to daydream.”

“I wouldn’t be daydreaming if you didn’t decide to help me in the first place.”

“Touché.”

“Think I’m all done studying. I’m tired of it,” you sighed, stretching, “I want to do something else.”

Hannibal looked at you, brow raised. “What’s that sweet girl?”

You shook off some nerves. As much as the two of you had already done, he was still an intimidating man. His eyes followed as you stood and walked around the desk. Hannibal brought your hand up to his lips. You trailed it along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble that just started coming in, buying yourself some time to steady yourself. A raised brow questioned what you’d do next, but otherwise he leaned into your touch.

“I wanted to thank you for everything. For how good you are to me.”

“I don’t expect anything in return,” he assured.

“Yeah, I know,” you sunk to your knees in front of him, tracing your fingertips up and down his thigh slowly, looking up at him, “but I want to take care of you too.”

He toyed with a strand of your hair, looking almost bored as he leaned back in his chair. “That isn’t necessary, little one, I enjoyed watching you.” Still there was a glint of something in his eye that told you he was interested, merely teasing with the show he just wanted something more from you.

You bit your lip, pondering at what he had deemed missing. The title. A thing that had slipped past your lips embarrassingly but one he had used with stupor throughout the night. Hands settling on his knees, you pushed them apart so you could settle there more comfortably. A pout, “Please, daddy, I’ve wanted to since we met.”

“Always an eager plaything,” he sighed checking the clock on the wall, “I suppose daddy can make some time for his girl.”

That was enough for you to start undoing his belt. Despite the bored act, his half hard cock betrayed him and told you exactly how much he had been interested. You palmed him through his boxers, he didn’t give you the pleasure of hearing anything from him, but that’s alright you didn’t mind earning it. Once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you pulled him out of the boxers. Leaning back on your knees you took it in, unsure if you could fit the length of it in completely.

Hannibal took in your hesitation. Using a finger he tilted your head up to look at him in the eye. “We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t okay with it now. A change of mind is more than alright.”

“No. It’s not that I want to,” you licked your lips, as if to prove how okay you were you wrapped your hand around him, thumb tracing a prominent vein, “I was just wondering if it would fit all the way in.”

He let out an amused huff, shaking his head, “I’m sure you’ll try your best, ridiculous girl.”

Leaning in you pressed a kiss to the head. Just a little more time to work up the courage. You kissed along the shaft, mapping out every vein. Your tongue traced its way back up, catching a taste of precome that had beaded on the head. An encouraging hand threaded itself in your hair, never pushing for more than you were willing to give.

A knock at the door, interrupts the scene.

“A moment,” Hannibal calls out to the person. “Get under the desk,” he said as he started to hide away any evidence that he was with anyone. Your appearance wasn’t completely ruined, not to his taste at least, but the messed up lipstick and slightly ruined hair wouldn’t take much mental work for someone to come to the correct conclusion.

Taking his instruction you got under the desk as he fixed his own appearance, suit jacket over his arm to hide himself. Walking over to the door, “Mr. Henderson,” he greeted, pleasantly, “Please, come in.”

“Hannibal, sorry about stopping by so late,” you heard the door close as the two walked over.

“Nonsense. If anything, the company is welcomed.” Hannibal took his seat, pulling his chair in close, to make sure you were hidden away.

“I was actually going to see if I could convince you to stay.”

Mischief sparked as you grew bored with their droning conversation. Thankfully he had decided to get rid of his belt fully. It didn’t take much to free him again. He spread his legs, attempting to give you the most space possible under the cramped desk. You pumped him in your hand, getting him back to how you had him. The other hand tugged softly at his balls. You wouldn’t be able to put him in your mouth properly with this angle. Instead you satisfied yourself with sucking on the sides of his cock.

“The students adore you,” the other man countered whatever Hannibal had said, “Honestly your classes are killing Jacob’s with every exam.”

“I take great pride in my students. They are an extension of myself. How well they do is a direct reflection of my skill as a teacher,” he sighed, “I have a couple of people in mind that could fill my roll, I’ll ask people to see who’s interested.”

“Still Jacob’s is slacking too much, I may take away his student aid privileges. I see her around here more often than I ever see him.”

You gave a particularly hard suck to a seemingly sensitive spot as his hips had stuttered ever so slightly. No evidence of any misconduct came from his voice as he said, “Oh her? She is a very good girl. Motivated. Never complains about a thing.”

You felt Hannibal throb against your mouth. Taking a break you leaned your head on Hannibal’s thigh, as fun as it would to mess with him more, you knew he took great pride in his social image. Besides, you had wanted Hannibal’s full attention anyway. His hand came down to your hair, subtly showing that he was still paying attention to you to the best of his abilities.

They talked a while longer, before Henderson finally left. Hannibal had pulled out a stack of papers, motioning like he was going to work on grading, and politely asked him to lock the door as he left. When it was clear he pushed his chair away from the desk. You made your way out smiling at him.

“Someone seems very happy with themselves.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“But did you ask permission?” Hannibal asked as worked himself lazily.

You faltered slightly under his gaze, “Well...no.”

“And do you think you deserve any type of reward for that stunt?”

“...I hope so.”

“I’ll forgive it,” he decided, “only because you’re so eager and we never set ground rules. But now it’s on my terms.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded obediently, not wanting to receive one of Hannibal's punishments just yet.

Hannibal used your hair to pull you closer. You stumbled on your knees catching yourself on his thighs. “Since you were so unsure if you could fit in daddy earlier, after that little stunt, I’m sure you’re feeling better now. Aren’t you?”

The hand in your hair pushed you down. You closed your mouth around the tip. Hannibal groaned quietly, letting you work your way down. Bobbing your head you took more of him deeper every time, but those last two inches were proving difficult. Gripping your hair, he pulled you off of him.

His breath was coming in quick pants, brushing your hair away from your face. “Do you need help, darling?”

“I can’t fit it daddy.” It came out in a breathless whine.

“Yes, you can. Be a good little mouth and let me do the work.”

Again he pushed you onto his cock. This time he took control. His hand kept you in place as he thrusted his hips up. Without the hesitation you had, he fit himself in quickly. Grinding into your mouth he let you choke around it for a while before pulling you up for air.

“See?” He choked out as he used you again, “Fucking perfect mouth… Daddy’s good girl… taking care of me like she asked.”

His grunted praises and moans were enough to excuse the tear prickling your eyes. Over and over he used your mouth to it’s extent. Seeming to enjoy it most when you did choke on him. Hannibal stopped before he came. Pulling you up off the floor and onto his lap. Wiping away the stray tears that had fallen.

“You’re too good for me.” He kissed your cheek.

“You haven’t finished.” You caught your breath as you curled into his chest. His cologne comforted you. The increasingly familiar scent carved a special place in you.

“I’ll finish later,” he promised, dropping another kiss onto your head, “At the moment, I want to make sure you’re alright. I got carried away.”

“I’m not porcelain, Hannibal,” you intertwined your fingers with his, “I like it when you’re in charge… It gives me a chance to not think of anything.”

“Even so these situations require a lot of trust from your partner.”

You shrugged, as you decided to be honest, “At the moment you seem to be the only person I trust. Besides, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“I can’t see you ever doing that.”

That night Hannibal had taken you home. You received the same treatment you had received the first night you stayed at his house. Mostly you thought it was an apology of some sort for treating you roughly in his office. By some good grace both of you had classes later in the day, allowing you to enjoy the softer side of Hannibal in the morning again.

A new sweater of his joined the one that resides on your futon. You hadn’t thought twice about packing them away when you emptied your apartment out.

-

Life in New York was eventful to say the least. Different but fun. It had been six months since you had graduated. Your friend from high school shared an even shabbier apartment together. You made a couple friends. Picked up jobs at a bar and a bookstore.

“You’re not any fun,” Alex complained as she adjusted her makeup, “You never want to go out with me.”

“I’m tired,” you complained. “Anyway, why would I want to go to a bar when I work at one?”

“To wreak hell on someone that’s stuck in your usual gig.”

“Have fun with the guys.”

She attempted to pull you off the couch a couple more times to no avail. In truth you were happy to have a moment of peace. All honesty she was the driving force in you actually living your life and not just working the entire time. You really did love her for all of that and the experiences you had. However there were times for breaks to be had from everything. And tonight was one of them.

You showered, got dressed in a sweater and shorts, heated up some leftovers. Throwing on a bad 80’s horror flick, you spent your night in splendor. A break was rare and you were gonna use your relaxation time to its extent. Sleep overtook you sometime in the night, only to be woken up by the annoying shrill sound of your phone.

“Al, baby, I love you so damn much, but if you’re gonna bitch at me about not going out tonight. I just might be tempted to murder you,” you muttered sleepily, “I could get away with it.”

“Sweet girl, is that any way to speak to your friends?” A voice you hadn’t heard in a while asked, disappointment clear in his tone.

“Hannibal,” you said lamely, slightly ashamed that that was the first thing he heard from you in months. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you. It’s… It’s been a while.”

“It has been,” he agreed, “In fact, I called to ask if you would like to come to a dinner party.”

You looked at the clock, noting just how late it had been. “You called at two in the morning to ask me to a dinner party?”

“I’ve been busy and you didn’t leave an address for an invitation. It was… spur of the moment.”

“I missed you too,” you sighed, deciding to be the one to voice it, “Yeah, I’d love to go over.”

“Are you planning on staying with me?”

You sighed dramatically, “Suppose I can give a lonely old man some company. What, you couldn’t find anyone as entertaining as me in Baltimore?”

“I’ve got specific tastes.”

“Is that right?”

Alex walked in, the last part of the conversation hitting her ears and the alcohol in her system making her louder. “Is that the daddy? Does he know he’s ruined men for you? Ugh, can you get him over here to loosen you up? I’d appreciate it that so much.”

“I never said ruined, I just sa-“ you realized Hannibal was still on the phone, “Just please, go take a shower, I’ll make you anything you want to eat if you promise to stay quiet.”

Surprisingly she complied, only saying egg sandwich with cheese and bacon in response.

“Ruined?”

“Couldn’t let that skate by?”

“You’re the one talking about me.”

You coughed. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve got specific taste too. Just something happened with someone and I don’t know, I couldn’t get into it that same way. Like with you. They needed me to tell them exactly how… It was just awkward. It wasn’t satisfying. They were nice though.”

“You compare my experience to their experience inexperience,” he deduced. “You enjoy knowing I’ve got everything under control.”

You tried to shake away the blush. “So it seems we’re stuck in similar positions.”

“We are.”

“Hannibal,” you heard someone call out, “When were you thinking of joining us? We didn’t bother you so much you had to leave us that long.”

He asked him for a moment.

“Seems like someone wants your attention,” you commented.

“Does it bother you?”

“Not at all. Just friends having fun right? It would be hypocritical considering I just told you of my night with someone else. As long as it’s nothing serious with whoever that was, we’re fine.”

“They’re nothing. Someone’s too loud nephew. In fact I think he’s rather rude. You know I can’t stand people like that.”

“You’ll survive. Get home safe.”

“I’ll send you the directions in a moment. Have a goodnight little one.”

“‘Night daddy,” the long unused term of endearment fell from your lips easily.

“‘Night daddy,” Alex sighed dreamily from the bathroom door, “God, is the dick really that good? How could it be?”

You hung up the phone. “Can you please not do that next time? He’s really particular about things.”

She raised her hands up in defense. “Whoa, there. He can handle a little joke at his expense when he’s already been down your throat. Now where’s my sandwich?”

“I’m serious Al.” You sighed when you got up from the couch to get to work on your promise. “He makes me feel like I need to be all proper.”

“You’re fine, doll. A dime if I’ve ever seen one. I’m not gonna ruin this for you, if he randomly decided to call you this late,” she took a seat on the counter, taking the water you handed her gratefully, “Do you want that to be a long term thing?”

“Nah,” you threw the bread into the toaster, “I couldn’t live his life. Sure, I like him and I do think he’s fun to hang around. But it just feels like something that will simmer down eventually. We’ll probably meet up a couple more times and it’ll be done. It’s not like we do anything more than end up in bed and sweet talk.”

“I’m telling you, we’d be set if you asked him to be your sugar daddy. Please ask him to take care of you and be his call girl.”

“How about you?” You asked, changing the topic, “Any pretty girls?”

“This one chick at work,” she shook her head, “Fucking goddess of a woman, LN, I’m telling you. I got it bad. She’s got me waiting for her with her coffee orders in the morning like some kind of obedient little puppy.”

“You know her coffee order.”

“Exactly!”

“How’s the commitment issues?”

“I’m gonna have to fucking work through them. Unlike someone, I think I wanna try out the long term thing.”

“Hey!” You cracked the eggs into the oil, “I’m just not up for it right now.”

“Work him out of your system. We’re supposed to be having fun this year.”

You sighed, “I’m trying.”

“I’m telling you we find you a decent lay. You won’t need to be fucking around with that guy.” Your phone chimed. Alex grabbed it off the counter. “The devil works fast doesn’t he? Address and day of the party. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Says he’ll buy you a cute little number.”

“No, tell him I got it.”

“Thank you, daddy. I’ll make it worth your wild. Wink. Send.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I still think he’s ugly,” she shrugged, tossing your phone over, “May as well get a cute dress out of sleeping with him.”

“He’s not ugly. I’ve seen the people you’ve brought home,” You scoffed, handing over the plate.

“Reggie is a fun time! Fuck I miss Reggie.”

“Work chick,” you reminded her.

“Right right.” She argued before taking a bite of the sandwich. “Fine, we’ve both had our questionable older partner moments. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not.”

“Still never called her mommy and that’s a win in my books.”

“I should have never told you that,” you laughed, “I fucking hate you man.”

She pinched your cheek affectionately, “You had your chance to get rid of me. The return policy ran out. You’re stuck. Congratulations.”

“How long until you expire?”

Alex pretended to count it through. “We’re looking at at least 50 years more, if we’re lucky.”

You hummed, “Are you accounting for possible sickness or accidents?”

“I’m immortal for 50 years in between. No arguments at this time please.”

Next Chapter

Tag list: @charc0al-grey