#and then you look and that silly little boy is 26 years old

[morganpdf]

unironically all the takes ive been seeing irt laios have been sooooo 😬😬😬 that if/when i catch up reading and/or watching i simply shant interact w anyone outside of my trusted mutuals bc holy shit yall

[chososdiscordkitten]

Lord Choso Kamo.

Synopsis: bridgerton au- 22 yrs old nd have yet to marry, only to be set up in an arranged marriage to Choso ^-^

Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor readers appearance, Choso is 26, enemies (on one side) to lovers, reader is sharp tongued and stubborn, plotttttt booooo, just a niche fic I couldnt stop thinking about ^-^, catered for a very specific audience, if you get it- YOU GET IT.

Presented to society at seven and ten. One of the many young potential brides. 

You had asked your mother to allow you to wait a few years- focus on your studies instead of marrying you off. As lacking in presence as your father was, even he said, ‘Absolutely not.’

The first year had a handful of potential husbands. But none of them could nack your witty remarks towards them. Causing your second year to have an even less amount of suitors.

The second year, you were already deemed a spinster by your parents. Attending balls and only sitting on the sidelines in the very same gowns you've worn before- only ever seeing it as a meaningless affair. Only present to watch the other young ladies receive marriage offers before you did. 

By the time you were two and twenty, your mother and father saw you and saw a sort of disappointment. An only child- raised and trained for marriage- and refusing to let go of the silly notion of going through life unmarried. 

They blamed you- but in reality it was a mix of their inability to keep up with the fashions of the seasons. Having to re-wear dresses didn’t help you in the situation either. That and the lack of an eye-catching dowry. Seemed as though no man wanted to marry a woman with a mere four figure dowry, no matter how beautiful. 

One afternoon, as you read a book in the drawing room, you sat on the couch lazily, wearing a day dress that you deemed obsolete—dressing up for no one but the servants and your mother. 

And your mama spouting- “I do not know why you insist on filling your mind with nonsense.” Pacing back and forth a few feet from you. 

Causing you to lower your book and look at her with pursed lips. “It is not nonsense, mama,” you snipped, lining up your eyes with the words again. “It is Shakespeare.” you muttered, a small smile curling on your lips at the look on your mother’s face. 

She was about to start speaking again- only your father walked into the room with an unaccustomed smile on his lips. Almost exasperated, “And what is it you have to smile about, my lord?” your mother scoffed, sitting on the couch across from you with a sigh. 

“I have found a proper suitor for your daughter,” he said, causing your shoulders to tense and your book to lower in disbelief. 

“I am your daughter as well- father.” you scoffed. Lightly pinching the bridge of your nose and sitting up. 

The gleam that shone on your mother’s eyes was one you hoped you’d never see. “Who?” she asked, breathless and eager to see who would finally take you from their hands. 

Your father flashed his eyes to you, almost worried for the words that dared spill from his lips- “The lord Kamo.” 

You closed your eyes with a soft sigh. You had been appropriately raised to not talk back to your father, but the vein that pulsed in your mind when he said that name almost made you snap at him. 

Lord Choso Kamo. 

To others, just another lord without a bright and shiny title. Firstborn son and heir of the Kamo name, his mother gave birth to 8 more boys- all one year apart. And on the eighth, his mother died. 

His father remarried within the year, speculated with a woman he had an affair with when his mother was still alive. Giving Choso one last little brother. 

And to you, three years your senior. Choso was a playful child growing up. Chasing you around- stepping on your shoes and stealing your ribbons at the various balls you would attend with your mother. 

But somewhere around the time his father died, he became more serious. Now head of the Kamo family at a mere five and ten, he grew taller and more serious-faced. And no longer picked fun at you, nor chased you around. If anything, he ignored you. 

Even as a child, you had developed a special kind of disdain towards him. Seeing him as an ill-raised boy, blamed for his misdeeds by your mother. “But mama- he is the one who chases me!” you would defend when she would pull you away by the arm. 

And in your teen years- you would avoid him like a plague. Holding your head high as your eyes looked over at him- his eyebrows, thick and furrowed with severe eyes scanning the ballroom. 

You disliked Choso not only for his actions as a child but also because he had a dismissive aura when it came to these balls—and when it came to you now, apparently. Far too mature and busy to even hold a conversation with you now. 

Only once when you were four and ten did you approach him. Standing much taller than you at seven and ten, hands behind his back with a stern look in his eye.

Choso stood near the far wall of the ballroom, his eyes scanning the lively room for his little brothers. To make sure they did not stain his legacy even further than his father had. 

“I think you owe me a dance, my lord,” you spoke, standing beside him but not bothering to look over at him, dressed in a dark plum suit, a color he had taken a liking to at his coming of age.

His face churned in confusion, “Owe you a dance? Whatever for.” he spoke- improper and uncaring of this supposed debt you imposed onto him. 

“For stealing my ribbons and stepping on my shoes.” tilting your head slightly, so sure you were correct. 

He only scoffed, walking away from you and collecting his rowling brother. 

Choso’s coldness against you was upsetting. Not because you wanted his friendship but because of how improper and indifferent he was when it came to you. Not even bidding a goodbye before walking off.

In the third year you were on the market, you stood beside him once more—you, freshly twenty, and he, three and twenty. Thinking if no other man would have you, who was the Lord to deny you?

It was not as though he was the worst man of the bunch. A decent name, a decent fortune- and a better-looking face than most suitors. His only flaw was how standoffish he could be and how improper he was with you.

Yet still. You gave the man one last chance.

“You still owe me a dance, my Lord,” you spoke, watching the people dance at the center of the room. Choso looked over to you, quickly scanning the light pink gown you wore that evening, surely to attract a suitor.

Your gaze caught the bags below his eyes, a side effect of the late nights spent in his study with only candlelight illuminating the mess of books his late father left him. And his long hair tied back, giving you an unobstructed view of his strong jaw.

“Should you not be looking for a husband?” he spewed, looking back at the dancing crowd and lightly widening his eyes. Unable to see the youngest sibling he was watching. 

You let out an unamused laugh, “That is what I am doing, is it not?” looking over at him with a pleased expression. 

“No, you are talking to me-” he murmured. Walking off and trying to find the pink-haired sibling with a penchant for wandering off. 

After that, you swore never to speak to him again. There was a spark of hatred in your heart when you saw his stupid, serious face at the balls. And when his eyes caught on yours, you would look away, uncaring if people saw. If anything, you wanted people to see your dislike for that brinking-on beastly man. 

So when your father said that he- Lord Choso Kamo was to be your husband, you almost hemorrhaged on the spot. 

You did not speak to your father for three days and two nights. At the dinner table, you stayed silent. Picking at your food and avoidant of any conversation. And your mother held more than enough excitement for you both. Planning the flowers, the gown- all before the Lord even proposed. 

And when your father grew tired of your silence- he shouted at you to speak. 

You bowed your head, tears in your eyes—“Please,” you said in a tone of voice you had not used since you were a girl. Peering your eyes up at him, full of salt water and a weary lip. You said, “Please, do not make me marry that man, father.” 

Though your papa was generally uncaring when it came to what you felt. The way you looked at him- he saw a glimmer of his little girl in your eyes. The same little girl that would cling to his leg, scared of the strangers he would present her to. 

Your father took your hands in his- and you were so sure he would call it off. 

“I will allow you a two-week courting period.” He whispered, watching the tears spill from your eyes. “You must marry him,” he spoke your name softly. 

It wasn’t until the following day you heard your father speaking to your mother- the stoic man practically in shambles at the thought of using his only daughter as a form of paying his debts. 

Before the late Lord Kamo passed, your father owed him a substantial amount of money. A debt your father was still unsure how he would pay. And the news of Choso’s father's death washed over your papa as a wave of relief.

So when a six and twenty-year-old Lord Kamo wrote to your father- something along the lines of; ‘I have in my late father’s books that you owed him an undisclosed sum of money. I would like to discuss this face to face-’

Your father thought up a million things—selling off the silverware, the dresses, and letting go of the staff—but it didn’t amount to half as much as he owed. 

So when your father met up with the young Lord Kamo at a gentleman's club, he was far too inebriated. Drinking to fill the uncomfortability he felt with the severity Choso imbued in his words. 

“It is my understanding you have yet to marry?” your father spoke- glass half empty in his hand as he looked at the brown-haired man before him. 

Choso furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the drunk man and squinting. “I have yet to.” 

“Then the matter is settled. You may have—*hic* My daughter,” he said, thralling his arm around Choso’s shoulder with a happy smile. “She is well-read. And you have been friends since youth, have you not?” 

Choso parted his lips to speak—“Phenomenal!” your father said, “We will discuss the technicalities later,” ending the conversation and continuing to another topic. 

In Choso’s mind, he knew the impending task of finding a wife had run at him at full speed. And rather than slotting through the many carefully primped young ladies, Choso found peace in knowing if he should have to marry, let it at least be you who he does. 

The least objectionable option. Finding it revolting how the many mamas would peddle their overly young daughters to grown men. Be it you- three years his junior and knowing you far better than he would know any of them. 

And when your mother advised you that the Lord Kamo had asked to see you- you felt a pool of nerves and unease form in your tummy. Knowing that the two-week period your father had granted you, would begin the minute, he would come see you. 

Your mother mulled over what you were to wear when he would visit. Trying to find the best option- an option that would make your beauty distracting enough to ignore your sharp tongue. 

“Mama, I’ve already told you- he is not interested in marriage” you insisted- your mother ordering you to hold a dress against your body. 

“Hush up.” she insisted, causing you to sigh. 

Tossing a light pink chiffon gown onto your bed- “I have known him since I was a child- mama, he knows what I am like.” sitting onto your bed with a scoff, “A frilly gown I’ve worn before won’t change his opinion on me.” 

Your mother shouted your name- “Your father has said that he already agreed- mouthy and far too mature as you are. Lord Kamo has agreed to marry you.” she insisted. Making your mind reel at the possibility that he only agreed to vex you, knowing him.

As your ladies maid fixed your hair- looking into the mirror and thinking of your foiled plans. Plans that had been entirely derailed simply because the Lord said ‘yes’ to marrying you. 

And as you sat in the drawing room- back slouched and a bored look on your face. Your mother did not hesitate to slap your back when the footman walked in “The Lord Kamo, to see you- my lady.” he directed at you. 

Straightening your back- fixing your face as you watched the man stand at the doorway. Flowers in hand and with his hair pushed behind his ears. Unfurrowed eyebrows and nervous eyes looking at you. 

You rose to your feet, “My lord.” you exasperated, lowering in a half-assed curtsey as he slightly bowed. 

“My lady.” he spoke- almost unsure and far too formal for the relationship you had with him. 

You clenched your jaw looking at him- your mother leaning to your ear, “Be kind, and smile.” she instructed through clenched teeth. Sitting at a tea table a few paces from the couch you were sitting on. 

Choso took a step towards you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he mumbled- yet another thing you disliked about him. He spoke unclear words far too often. 

You plastered a false smile on your lips, reaching for them- “Thank you. My lord.” dropping the smile and holding them out for your ladies’ maid to take them. Thinking of a snide comment, only laughing softly to yourself at- ‘make sure to leave them in the sun till next week.’ you said in your mind. 

“Did I say something funny?” he asked- watching you sit onto the couch and following you. 

You eased your expression. “No, unfortunately you didn’t.” you spit. Hearing a slight cough come from your mother, reminding you to be kind.

Choso parted his lips to speak- “May I ask you why you agreed to marry me?” you interrupted- a hushed tone so your mother would not scold you. Eyebrows stern and determined to know his reasonings. 

The Lord squinted his eyes slightly with a furrowed brow. “I have yet to ask for your hand?” he queried- as though you had the answers that you, yourself, were looking for. 

“My father says you agreed to marry me in two weeks.” deadpan face looking at his confused one. 

The corner of the Lord’s lip curled, “Your father was drunk when he struck that deal.” 

You rolled your eyes and looked off to the side. “So you do not wish to marry me.” you stated rather than asked. So eager to hear the words- ‘I do not want to marry you.’

“I did not say that.” 

You almost groaned in frustration at his words. Only your twitchy eye went unnoticed by the man sitting before you. “Then?” you pressed, pursed lips and squinty eyes awaiting his declaration- or an excuse. 

“I am reaching the age to take a bride.” he started, bordering on a mumble that only frustrated you even more. 

“And why not take on a well-behaved child bride-”

Choso’s expression churned in a flash of disgust. “I did not choose you,” he spoke your name in a whisper. Improper as ever- not even using your family name with a simple ‘miss’ before it. 

You blinked harshly at your name callously spoken as though you were already wed. 

“Your father offered-”

“And you accepted.” 

“Because I have known you since I was a boy.” he defended, “I found marrying you to be simpler than carding through the many eligible young-” you sighed at his droning on. Giving you every excuse besides the one you wanted to hear. 

“You also said 'yes' to this union, did you not?” he asked. You looked off to the side, scoffing at his assumption. 

Intertwining your fingers together and pursing your lips, “This union is everyone’s choice but mine.” you muttered. Looking down to your hands with a frustrated look on your face. 

Choso called your name again- this time in worry. Making the vein in your temple pulse from his improper tendencies. “If you do not want to marry- I will not force you to.” 

“You do not know a thing.” you spouted, causing your mother to look up from the embroidery cloth to see why you were seething in your words. And Choso only smiled at your mother, assuring her it was okay. 

Clearing your throat- standing from the couch and urging him to do the same. “I think it’s time for you to take your leave, my lord.” You spoke- hearing your mother stand. 

“Can’t you stay for tea?” she asked- only for Choso to look at you. Mouthing a soft ‘No,’ instructing him to assure your mother that was not necessary. 

The next time Choso saw you was at a ball. You stood near a wall, a pondering look on your face, an unsipped glass of lemonade in hand, and an empty dance card on your wrist. 

Looking off as though you were physically here- but your mind was elsewhere. 

The Lord came up to you for the first time since he was seven. Calling your name in a mutter and pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Yes, my lord?” you spoke- refusing to turn and look at him. 

He inhaled sharply, “Have you thought more on-”

“It is all I think about these days.” 

Choso tried thinking back on the lessons he was taught as a boy- how to approach a lady and how to ask for a dance. 

He parted his lips to speak- “What is it you want, my lord?” you asked, interrupting his attempts to communicate with your tone bordered on frustration. 

“I owe you a dance, do I not,” speaking your name with the same thoughtlessness as he always held. You sighed, placing your glass on the table beside you. 

Looking over at him with a peaked brow, “Why is it now you want to dance? Not once have you ever shown interest before.” 

He scoffed softly, “I aim to court you- dancing is part of it, is it not?”

You let out an unamused laugh, “If dancing meant courting- you declined that proposition long ago, my lord.” taking a sarcastic tone, holding your head high as he furrowed his eyebrows. 

Unknowing what you were talking about, Choso squinted his eyes. “Why do you speak to me in that tone?” he looked over at you, trying to recall if he had insulted you or even done something to warrant your curt behavior. 

You sighed harshly, bored of this conversation- and irritated that Choso had the guts to ask that. “My mother is summoning me-” Trying to find an escape from this conversation; you chose to lie. 

Turning to face him, pursed lips and your jaw slightly clenched, “Good evening, my lord.” you spat, his eyes widening and scoffing. 

As you turned to walk away, he called your name- loud enough for more than enough people to turn their heads to the source. Seeing you still in Choso's presence, his face troubled as he looked at the back of your head. 

The control you had in not turning around and snapping at the man, was control you weren’t sure you held. You only breathed in a small breath and continued your steps, hearing the Lord step behind you as you walked out of the ballroom. 

Nodding your head 'no' as you stepped onto the terrace- breathing in the crisp evening air and clenching your jaw. Your name was spoken again, in the same uncaring tone he always held when he referred to you. 

“If I have done something to offend you-” You turned around swiftly, angered by the face before you and your eye threatening to twitch. 

“If? If you have done something?” you scoffed, finding it unbelievable that he didn’t even know what he did wrong. Choso turned his head, awaiting your explanation as your gloved hands balled into fists at your side.  

Choso parted his lips to speak, your name falling from his lips carelessly, making you even more upset. “Please, tell me if I have done something wrong.” The urgency in his tone fell on deaf ears. 

“I do not wish to speak of this any longer-” you muttered, “My Lord.” you gritted, a breath leaving his lips at the name. 

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” he lightly grimaced, cringing every time you’ve ever referred to him as that. 

The control you held slipping from the satin covering your fingers. “Because it is polite—something you do not harbor,” you spat, shivering at the crisp breeze brushing against your arms. 

Choso furrowed his eyebrows- even more confused than before at your proclamation. You scoffed- “Do not pretend you are unaware of what I speak of.” your chest puffing and slightly spilling from the top of your gown. 

You abandoned the topic, knowing he would only look at you with the same stupid expression in wait for you to further elaborate. 

Turning away from Choso and placing your hands on the balcony’s edge, sighing softly before a smile crept onto your lips. 

“We have yet to marry, and we are arguing already,” you whispered, looking out into the gardens with a pummeling headache. 

Choso sighed, his face troubled. “I’ve already told you—if this marriage is not of your will, I shall decline your father.” 

You breathed a sharp exhale from your nose at his claim, knowing it was not up to you nor him. It was a duty your own father entrusted to you. 

“It is of my will.” you muttered, hearing his footsteps creep beside you. Looking out to the same view as you. 

“Then why is it you hold such disdain for me?” he whispered, looking to the side of your face in worry. 

Dropping the veil of anger to answer his question in earnest. “Do you remember when we were children? And you would chase me around the Easter gardens?” you asked, taking a softer tone and looking to the very same gardens below you. 

“Or when you would step on my freshly polished shoes- or steal the ribbons of my hair?” Looking back to him with a soft expression- watching his face churn to a pensive one. 

A small smile formed on your lips, “I was able to forgive all of that- but when I was ten and four, you declined my offer for a dance.” your mouth in taught purse, watching his lips part to defend himself. 

“And when I was twenty, I offered again.” the corner of your lip curling in disbelief, “And you declined- again.” 

“This is all because I refused to dance with you?” Choso asked in a half laugh. 

You huffed a smile, “No, not because you declined my offers for dancing, my lord.” clenching your teeth and the seething below your skin burning in your cheeks. “Because after all of that- you somehow managed to foil my plans for the future.” 

Sighing in a straggled breath, “After all of that- you agreed to marry me. And go on as though we have been friends since childhood.” You nodded in disappointment. 

“But we have been-” Choso stated in almost a question. 

“You bullied me in childhood. We are not friends.” You spat in a whisper, turning and taking a step away. Only for his hand to grasp onto your clothed forearm, holding you back with an amused expression. 

“Bullied?” he asked in a surprised tone. “If anyone was a bully- it was you,” speaking your name and looking at your angered expression. 

Choso loosened his grip on your arm, “Do you not recall? When you would pull my ears or push me?” he smiled, remembering the memories he held fondly. 

“Or when I would call you 'my lady'- and you would snap at me? Tell me that was not your name- and that you were no lady?” he scoffed with an earnest smile. You furrowed your eyebrows, barely able to remember the memory he was referring to. 

“If I am so horrible- why did you agree to marry me?” you whispered, the smile on his face only growing in the slightest. 

His cheeks slightly flushed and daring to inch closer to you. “I do not find you horrible,” the tone he took when saying your name made your own cheeks threaten to warm. “I never have.” he smiled. 

Watching your tight expression soften, you parted your lips slightly. Darting your eyes back to the ballroom and seeing a pair of debutants whispering whilst looking through the doors. 

You cleared your throat, taking a step back and exhaling a shaky breath. Choso furrowed his eyebrows and looked over to where you had looked, “A dance, my lady?” he offered his hand out to you. 

You took it with a sigh, what you interpreted as anger filling your cheeks. Allowing him to guide you back to the ballroom. 

A hand on your waist and other holding yours, taking precise steps as your eyes avoided his. Thinking of a way to break the tension without stuttering. “If you insist on marrying me- I ask we speak of agreements beforehand,” you expressed, avoiding the gaze Choso held on you. 

His hand guiding you into a waltz, “Agreements?” he murmured, snapping your eyes back to him and nodding. 

“Yes, agreements. Discuss what shall happen if we marry.” you reiterated, keeping a stern brow and ignoring the wisp of a smug expression on his face. 

Choso lightly smiled, “Very well.” he murmured again, making you nod your head no with heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Bring freesias for my mother- and stop mumbling.” you seethed, watching his smile deepening as he heard your demands. 

-

(a.n) sooo niche and I overindulged I know, but I don't CARE.

[ultram0th]

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 30: Daddy

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21 │ 22 │ 23 │ 24 │ 25 │ 26 │ 27 │ 28 │ 29 │ 30

Derek didn’t like being called “Daddy”.

The werewolf bristled whenever his boyfriend, Stiles, would call him it during sex, but would try to brush it off. It wasn’t because of anything too bad, really. Derek just associated the name with being old. When he’d admitted his dislike of the word to Stiles, Stiles understood, but there was a clear disappointment on his face. 

At first, Stiles accepted it and opted to call Derek “Daddy” in his head, yet after one day of looking through one of Peter’s magic books he got a mischievous idea…

Derek came home from work, his muscles feeling slightly achy from a long day at the auto shop. A dazed smile was on his face as he smelt whatever delicious thing Stiles was cooking in the kitchen, mingled with some random incense that was burning throughout the house.

“Hey Stiles,” Derek said as he walked into the kitchen, hugging his boyfriend from behind.

Stiles smiled back, “Oh hey there,” he greeted back, a playful tone evident in his voice. “Did you have a good day at work… Daddy?”

Instead of cringing like usual, Derek was surprised when he felt his cock immediately rocket to life. His seven inches went full mast the mere second he’d heard Stiles call him “Daddy”, even feeling goosebumps erupt all over his body as he shuddered with unfamiliar pleasure. 

“Um, y-yeah,” Derek stammered, his cock throbbing with intense need. He was confused over how turned on he was, but that curiosity rapidly disappeared and his face broke out into a playful smirk. Of course Stiles called him “Daddy”, as he frequently did in the bedroom.

Derek tightened his grip on his boyfriend and playfully rutted his hard cock against his butt.

Stiles pushed back into it. “Oh,” he grinned, “I guess you’re feeling a little frisky, huh… Daddy?”

Derek tensed up as his cock throbbed even more, twitching and leaking precum into his boxers. He felt so tortuously horny, licking his beard-framed lips with want…

Derek cocked his eyebrow and reached upwards with one hand, running it over his previously smooth face. The lower half of his face was covered with a thick, black beard that felt so large that it would’ve taken a few months to grow. It wasn’t Santa big, yet it was big enough to where it went past the typical gymbro beard and bordered Daddy-territory.

“Hey, Stiles, do I…?” Derek’s voice trailed off as he was about to ask Stiles if he looked different, feeling silly all of a sudden.

Of course Derek had a beard. He’d begun growing one the year he and Stiles had started dating, loving the way his beard tickled his boyfriend’s neck as he’d hungrily suck on it. Plus, he loved the way Stiles would shudder as his beard rubbed the inside of his thighs as he sucked him off, making sure he was a good daddy by taking care of his boy’s needs.

Stiles turned around and looked up at Derek with wide, admiring eyes. “What?” he asked.

Derek blushed a little and scratched at his beard. “Nothin’” he shrugged, “just having a weird day, I guess.”

Stiles mock frowned and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Well, why don’t you change out of your work clothes, and I’ll finish getting dinner ready… Daddy.”

Derek bit down on his lip as his cock surged once more, feeling as if he was about to explode right there. “Y-yeah,” he panted, jerking back at the sound of his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Be right back.”

As he walked upstairs to their bedroom, Derek could’ve sworn that his voice sounded deeper. It wasn’t exaggeratedly deeper, but the baritone resonated a lot more and there was a more mature quality to it, almost manlier.

The werewolf kept puzzling over it as he entered his and Stiles’s bedroom and began to take off his grease-stained work clothes. As he shucked his pants, his hard cock bobbed wildly in front of him, and he was on the fence between taking care of it real quick and rushing downstairs to ask Stiles to handle it.

Snickering, he opted for the latter and made a move towards the door, clad only in boxers, when he stopped in front of the mirror and gasped loudly.

Derek leaned in even closer to his altered reflection in disbelief, marveling at the array of grays that peppered his hair and beard. As he ran a shaky hand through his salt-and-pepper colored hair, Derek finally noticed the new lines that were near his eyes, indicating the slight beginnings of crows feet.

His heart raced in his chest as he looked like he was much older than he should’ve been, however, his cock throbbed once more and his fear evaporated into thin air.

“What a day,” Derek sighed, rubbing his mature face with his hands. Of course he looked a bit older for his age. He was a total daddy after all, and having a boyish face wouldn’t play into that role. 

Shaking his head at his dazed feeling, Derek went back downstairs, his tented boxers out in front of himself.

When he entered the kitchen, Stiles’s grin grew even wider as he looked his boyfriend up and down. “If you need some help with that, you gotta give me a second because this is boiling,” he said, gesturing at the pot on the stove. “But it shouldn’t take too long… Daddy.”

Derek grunted as his cock spasmed again, a large wet mark starting to form on the front of his tented boxers from his precum drooling out his hard member. He put on a coy smile of his own, crossing his arms in front of his hairy chest. “Well, you better make it quick, ‘cause Daddy’s getting impatient,” he grunted.

Again, Derek felt like something was off as he looked down at his hairy chest. The older hunk could’ve sworn that his chest was naturally smooth and typically devoid of any hair, but that thought was quickly proven wrong as he stared down at his hairy pecs and stomach. In fact, his whole body seemed to be covered in coarse, black hair. It covered his strong arms, thick legs, and even disappeared into his tented out boxers. 

Derek snorted at himself. Of course he was hairy, and he’d always melted at the sensation of Stiles running his fingers through his thick chest hair. He just chalked up his foggy brain to his insane horniness that he felt, his cock aching for his boyfriend to touch.

Derek squirmed in place, his cock twitching madly as Stiles finished up at the stove. Once the burner was turned off, Derek couldn’t contain himself anymore and eagerly rushed forward, easily tossing the smaller guy over his shoulder as he stomped towards the couch.

Stiles laughed. “Damn, I guess you’re really frisky,” he giggled, “…Daddy.”

“Hnng,” Derek bellowed as his cock leaked even more precum, his thudding footsteps sounding heavier and much louder than normal.

For the millionth time that hour, Derek scrunched up his face in confusion as he lumbered towards the couch. The way his thighs rolled over each other as he waddled felt wrong to him. Whereas Stiles felt lighter in his hold for some reason, Derek felt as if his own chest was much heavier than it should’ve been. He glanced downward at his hairy pecs, his eyes nearly bugging out of his skull at the way his bulbous pecs jutted out in front of him, having ballooned to such a large size. They blocked the view of anything south, forcing Derek to stare at his hairy mounds and the tips of his nubby nipples. He blushed as he felt a foreign jiggling at his gut, and upon glancing at his blurry reflection in the TV, he could make out a large, hairy musclegut that his large pectorals rested upon. His boxers had magically disappeared, and the werewolf nearly sputtered at his massive ten inch monster cock that bobbed in front of him. Even his hairy butt had bubbled out, jutting out from his broadened back at a large angle. To finalize his growth, Derek’s arms had doubled in muscle, explaining away at how Stiles felt lighter.

It was hard to deny it now, as Derek stared at his altered reflection. The large muscled up, hairy older man who stared back at him from the TV’s glare. He finally pieced together what was happening: Derek was turning into a total daddy.

And he loved it.

As shocked as he was, Derek’s panic was quickly replaced with lust as he flexed his free arm with power, loving how big and manly it looked. He knew deep down that Stiles had somehow played a hand in this, and he loved him even more for it. Mental images of the two of them out in public, Derek completely dwarfing his smaller boyfriend who called him “Daddy” for all to hear filled him a giddy excitement, and he couldn’t wait to have Stiles run his fingers through his chest hair.

Derek tossed Stiles down onto the couch and loomed over him, smirking hungrily down at him. He couldn’t resist leaning forward and flexing his beefy, hairy muscles. “Who’s your daddy?” he bellowed in his deeper voice.

Stiles could only grin back up at him in anticipation before lowly whispering, “You… Daddy.”

“Uuughh!” Derek grunted as he came, loving how his bulky muscles bounced as his cock erupted, shooting his fat load up onto his hairy pecs. He knew deep down that he’d just cemented his transformation into a muscle daddy, but the second he looked down at his boyfriend, his enlarged cock shot straight back to life, and he pounced, forcing Stiles to take care of his daddy all night long.

[arilynn170]

The Begin (2023)

Me (age 16) and my friend Poppy (age 19) are going to The Jackalope she tells me its a calm to get away from asshole boyfriend Brandon/Gabriel (40 year old) i left without him knowing...

Poppy Summers: You got your fake ID?

Me: Yep I always have it with me when we're doing stuff together.

Poppy: Why are you wearing a dress we're not going to a party or some club it's a bar plus there won't be guys that looks like Ryan Gosling or Harry Styles. There's ugly old fuckers there.

Me: I just like being cute.

Poppy: Well your always cute without the dress wear some like big t shirts and jeans.

Me: Welp to late.

Poppy: If you touched by old pedophile it's your fault.

(I roll my eyes I get in her car and made there it was empty in the bar)

Me: It's all for us.

Poppy: Hm... Weird... Usually there's like I don't know 5 or 10 people here.

Me: Really? Huh well this is my first time being in a bar.

Poppy: I know it's your first silly goose. Im going to get drinks

Me getting sleepy: Ok... I guess.... (Sleep on the table for a little bit I wake up by a tap on my back) I DON'T TOUCH MY BACK!

Lawrence (age 26): Oh I'm really sorry...

Poppy: Are you ok Ari? Who are you?

Lawrence: Lawrence... You?

Poppy: Poppy, why you touch her back she has a scar on her back.

Lawrence: Look I'm really I...

Ren (age 21): Lawrence what's going on? (I look at the black and red hair woman that is next to the blonde hair girl)

(I look at Ren) Hi I'm Ariana Lynn

Poppy: I'm Poppy

Ren: Well hello Ariana and Poppy I'm Ren Hana. Me and my friend Lawrence are just about to get drinks for each other if you want I can buy y'all's drinks

(I fell in love with him I started blushing)

Poppy looked at Ariana: Ari, why you blushing found someone you like?

Me: Huh? Oh I'm just thinking about.... Justin Timberlake nudes... Yeah hahaha...

(Lawrence and Ren look at each other with confusion)

Ren clears his throat: I'm going to the drinks (Ren and Lawrence go get the drinks)

Poppy: Not going to lie Lawrence looks fine he seems chill

Me: Yeah I think I like Ren he's pretty nice and handsome... *Blushing more*

Poppy: You should cheat on Brandon for Ren, because I don't Brandon to keep on hurting you and make isolated

Me: I still love Brandon

Poppy groans

(Ren and Lawrence came with 4 cups whiskey)

Me and Poppy: Thank you

Ren: Yeah no problem *I look at Ariana*

(I took Lawrence drink and then Ren's and Poppy's)

(Ren was shocked and surprised) Oh wow...

Poppy: Really Ari?

Me: What I wanna have fun.

(Ren and Lawrence walk away from us and I hear them arguing)

Poppy: Wanna leave Ari?

Me: Yeah I'm ready to go to your place

(We go outside and then Lawrence come to us he seems upset me and Poppy looked at him and then each other)

Lawrence: .... Ren's path...split from mine...

Me: I'm sorry I guess...?

Poppy: Ari let's leave

(Lawrence then swing his fist at Poppy knocking Poppy out)

Me: Poppy! (I run to the alley I see a fox tail next to a trashcan I go to it, it was Ren)

Ren: Ariana, you ok?

Me: Please help me... He.. he... (I fall on the ground)

(Hours later, I woke up to a beautiful living room) Huh... Where am I?

Ren: Hey your awake, are you ok. This is my house by the way (Smiles at her)

Me: Oh cool, I see your just like me... A beastkin.. I'm a cat girl

Ren: Oh how cute I'm a fox boy...

Me: Oh nice, hey I need to go home

(Ren look at me and then clear his throat) I'm making food for us can you stay for a little bit longer?

Me: Oh ok... What you making fox dude

Ren: Well mashed potatoes, green peas and steak

Me: Do you have steak sauce

Ren: I'll check

Me: Ok (After he left the living room I tried to walk but I heard a chain rattle I look behind me I'm chained and there's a collar on my neck) What the fuck?!

(Ren comes back from the kitchen) Hey you okay? Oh you see the chain

Me: Why are you doing this?! Are you crazy or something?!

(Ren give me displeased look) Well I need a friend

Me: But that doesn't work chaining me like a  goddamn prisoner!

(Ren pull out a remote from his hoodie pocket and then push a button)

Me: AGH!!!! (Fall on the floor)

Ren: I'll be back to get the food

Me: YOUR A FUCKING PSYCHOPATH I'M 16!

Ren: I beg your pardon…? Your 16... Are you kidding me... Well why were you in the bar with that Poppy chick?

Me: Look I had a fake ID so I can get away from my abusive boyfriend

(Ren felt guilt and sadness he turned to me) Why didn't you leave him like break up with him and find someone now?

Me: If I do he'll kill me or sell me... He is a Mexican cartel leader... Has his own cartel... (Started to cry)

Ren: I was in that type of situation but I was kidnapped and but he wasn't a cartel leader he was a murderer and dark web person... You see the faded cuts on my body that's from him...

Me: Who?

(Ren started to tear up) His... His name is Strade... He kidnapped me when I was 19 I met him at a bar I started liking him and then I exited the bar he followed me without me knowing he than attack me and threatened me with a knife... I thought he was a nice person... But he has a dark personality...  After that he tortured me and raped me (cries) But in my heart he loved me because I didn't have anyone that cared about me.. but he did... But he got killed by the person he kidnapped and then both of them died... I should've had saved him... (Cries hard)

(I pull him and hug him)

(Ren hugs me back) I miss him

Me: I don't want to be rude or anything... But he's a bad person he doesn't loves you, he made you feel broken and now you have Stockholm syndrome and PTSD because of him... You should have someone better than him... But you can't trapped or chain a person for no reason your copying what he did to you chaining shocking me or anything awful you feel me...?

Ren: Your- your right... Why am I doing this to a girl like you... Fuck I don't want to be like him, I'm really sorry Adriana I mean Ariana, sorry... Do you hate me for doing this to you?

Me: No. You didn't kill me or anything but you shock me with collar

Ren: I'll take it off of you (Unchain you and take the shock collar off your neck)

Me: Thank you... If you want I'll give you my phone number if you like

Ren: You'll do that...? I can call and text you?

Me: Yes

(Ren hugs me)

Me: You deserve a friend I'll fix you ok I'll send you memes and stuff to me you happy

Ren: Thank you Ariana

(I leave his house)

(I hear the door open it was Ren)

Ren: Ariana you left your purse (walks to me)

I take it: Thanks Ren

(This took forever I was thinking and remembering the some of the lines from BTD2 I did this since July)

[unamazing-sheep21]

My own silly little interpretation of Edward Rochester if he were my OC instead of Charlotte Brontë’s ( Jane Eyre Chainsaw Man AU, takes place in the 2000’s)

Edward Fairfax Rochester

Born: 10/11/1976, 26 years old

Gender: male, he/him

Family: Frederick and Rowland Rochester ( father and brother), Ahed Al-Wadood ( mother, deceased), Mary-Anne Fairfax Rochester ( stepmother/half mother , deceased)

Occupation: Devil Hunter, current captain of division 6. Later landlord to Thornfield Hall.

Devil contracts: Tragedy, Terror, and The Electricity Fiend

Edward was raised for most of his life by his mother, an independent journalist who often worked for large media companies in a series of contracts back in Britain. Most of the time she would have to work in her home country, whatever the news decided to call it, she called it Palestine. Edward would spend half a year with his mother and half a year with his father and his wife. In order to keep up the charade that he was his father’s legitimate son.

So he grew up knowing what war and violence looked like. Sometimes following his mother to visit family in Gaza or Jerusalem. He knew what it was like to have threats issued that your house was going to be demolished, or to be randomly searched at checkpoints when you wanted to go one place to another. He knew what stark contrast it was to the luxurious life he lived in Britain with his father. But one incident would change his boy mind forever.

His mother was shot during crossfire between the two sides. And though the killer was obvious and clearly on the side of the occupation, no one bothered to bring him to justice. Edward was never the same after the death of his mother. He would spend his whole year in the UK from there on out. But the images of violence and bloodshed caused by human hands would not escape his mind. Soon he would learn that it was not only humans that could cause that sort of destruction.

Being the sheltered son of a billionaire he was in the UK, he did not know much about Devils or Fiends and what they could do to humans if you ever got near. After all, public safety and the Devil Hunters could take care of them, right?

It was not until he witnessed a Devil maul a civilian before his very eyes as a teenager that they felt real. As real as soldiers in uniforms. And for the first time since his mothers death, he felt like he could do something about it. These devils weren’t humans, you could bring them to justice no questions asked. Hungry to take out his revenge on targets that deserved it, he started training and soon enough joined the Public Safety Devil Hunters in London.

And there he met the Devil Killer herself, Antoinette Bertha Mason.

They say the best devil hunters are those that have the most screws loose. And if it was true, then Antoinette was the best of the best. The two of them became work buddies, and the worked together most of the time. Bertha always remaining at arms length from Edward due to her insanity. But saving his life more than a few times during their escapades. A strange sort of one sided friendship grew between them.

Then Antoinette nearly died, and was possessed by a devil.

The electricity Devil, effectively making whatever Antoinette was a fiend. By law, meant to be killed as mercilessly as any devil. But Edward, not bearing to kill his friend and colleague, or what was his friend and colleague, hid her in the attic of Thornfield hall and took it upon himself to take care of her.

And that’s his backstory lmao ahaha

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

OMG OPEN INBOX I THINK??? SO EXCITED!!!! COULD YOU MAYBE TALK ABOUT THE PUPPETEER OR HELEN,,, MAYBE TOGETHER POSSIBLY X3

RAHHH I NEVER GET TO WRITE FOR THESE STINKERS BUT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH <333

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

General headcanons!

The puppeteer

He's around 5'10

Im kind of 50/50 on his sexuality, I'd like to say hes bi, but idk i feel like hes straight

We'll go bi with a fem lean

Pronouns are he/him, he's cis

He's american

His aesthetic is a mix of grunge and mall goth

I feel like he'd be a vengeful spirit/ghost

He likes to pretend he's moved on from that first girl, but he really hasn't

He died at age 21, and would be around 26 if he would have continued aging

But due to him not letting go of that "unfinished buisness" he hasn't aged

He smells like general cologne and maybe a tiny bit of laundry detergent

He's kinda lanky and thin

Hes kind of annoying tbh

Soooo whiney and mopey omg

"If i never would have died I might've found someone new 😭 she took everything away from me 😔😔😔"

"Dude stfu im literally just trying to get some soda" -jeff probably

His proxy tattoo is on his right shoulder

He's supringly really clean

Literally everything else about him is fine, he's just a major bummer to be around

and also kind of an incel

His hobbies include listening to midwest emo bands, writing "poetry" and watching south park

Occasionally you'll see him warming up some pizza bagels and he'll try to pretend he's all mysterious and such a bad boy by shimmying away

Im going to be so for real with you, he probably idolizes jeff and tim

Theyre just so manly 😱😱

Also really wants what bella and edward have

Can you guess which one he wants to be in that situation?

Thats right!! Its edward!!

Like i said, incel

The bloody painter

He's 5'8

He doesn't really take a romantic interest in people, so most of the time I'd say he's aroace

But idk man, theres something in the way he looks at men and constantly draws them thats a little...💅...yk?

Like he'd never want to actually have a relationship with anyone, or engage in any physical intimacy with anyone, he just thinks that the male figure is especially beautiful

Pronouns are they/he, poor dude has had soooo many identity crises

The conclusion he came to was that he doesnt mind being a boy, he DEFINETLY does not wanna be a girl, but he does like expressing his gender with more fluidity

He's 22 years old, and he's french

He has a really heavy french accent, and pnly really speaks english when needed

He has an obsession with circle shaped choclate

Specifically circle shaped

He is kind of skinny, with long fingers

He smells like rose petal deoderant, paint and fresh cotton

His proxy tattoo is on the back of his neck

He also has a little star tattoo on his wrist

I feel like he'd be very in love with the idea of multimedia art pieces

He wants to make a fashion line someday, he just needs to learn how to sew

He has his very own art studio on the first floor of the manor, the walls are completely windowed and there is canvases and unfinished works everywhere

He's generally very quiet and observant, only speaking when spoken to

His few friends include jane, liu, and ej

His relationship with ej is complicated though

He wants to be his friend but also....he is in LOVE with his structure

Ej has such a perfect face shape for and pil painting, combined with his gorgeous skin tones and dreadlocks that frame his face oh so beautifully??

Mwah. Chefs kiss

But will helen ever admit that? Nope

He has a little bird he's named "eros"

Such a silly little dude <333

ALSO HE HAS LOTS OF TRAUMA SURROUNDING BEING FEMININE AND GENDER ILL ONLG ELABORATW IF PEOPLE WANT ME TO TJOUGJ

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Welcome to Night Vale episode recs

Welcome to Night Vale episode recs—for new listeners and for fans that fell off! I’m thrilled to see interest spiking in my favorite podcast after certain site-wide events, so this is a list made to make Night Vale's large catalogue less intimidating. WTNV is a master of both impressively plotted arcs and phenomenal one-offs, and there's something for everyone, whether you've never heard it before or haven't listened in eight years <3

Requisite warnings: Welcome to Night Vale is an absurdist horror-comedy, and it goes heavy on themes of unreality, especially in regards to perception, derealization, time and memory, existential dread, and body horror. The premise is that the listener is a citizen of the town, and Cecil often addresses the audience directly, not to mention frequently implies they’re in danger. The series is also (United States-centric) political satire about government surveillance, gun laws, and general conspiracy. Year One specifically is heavy on themes of anti-indigenous racism, which I believe were resolved insensitively. Please be cautious, and honestly, if anyone has questions about specific warnings/episodes I'd probably be down to answer!

On to the episodes! I’ve sorted them here into recs for new listeners and for returning ones. The list is quite long (26 recs in all—longer than a season!), so I’ve put it under a cut, but TL;DR: Year One is the best for people looking to get into the feel of the series, and returning listeners should consider relistening to some old arcs and poking into the new ones to see what’s changed in Night Vale, both town and show! The official transcripts page lets you sort by arc and by year, and I personally love the now-archived cecilspeaks on Tumblr for transcripts up to 176!

For new listeners

Recs to pique your interest! These are mostly one-shots which represent the ethos and storytelling of Night Vale :)

1, “Pilot”: An absolute classic, and one of my favorites even after so long! The first episode is literally amazing at setting up the general tone of the show and the town, not to mention dropping about a dozen future plot threads at once!

2, “Glow Cloud”: ALL HAIL—ahem. There’s a glow cloud and a wonderful end monologue :)

3, “Station Management”: Sneaking this in because this is the ep that really dragged me into the show! I could go in depth, but I know my audience; simply go forth knowing it features Cecil being a poor little meow meow <3

13 and 45, “A Story About You” and “A Story About Them”: The first parts of one of the most intriguing arcs of the series, told in second-person with an engrossing break from usual format and eeriness aplenty!

71, “The Registry of Middle School Crushes”: A family heist!!!

94, “All Right”: One of Night Vale’s most technically impressive episodes—listen to this one with headphones!

101, “Guidelines for Disposal”: Another personal fave. Something about this one really, really strikes at my heart, and I think it perfectly showcases Night Vale’s ability to balance its silly surrealism with haunting, lovely narrative

131, “Brought to You by Kellog’s”: I can’t possibly explain this one. Just listen to it

132, “Bedtime Story”: Oh man. Ohhh my god. Do you want to feel feelings about a boy who wanted to know everything

133, “Are You Sure?”: Another technically stunning episode; you have to relisten to this one for it to achieve full impact. Consider reloading once you’re done with your first listen, and again after your second :)

142, “UFO Sightings Report”: A lovely episode that offers glimpses into the lives of various Night Vale citizens. It ends heavily, but comfortingly all the same

159, “Cat Show”: You know how Cecil has a floating nightmare cat?

168, “Secret Blotter”: Extremely fun episode which goes off the usual format by a tad to great effect

All in all: I think Year One is the absolute best for exploring the ambience of the town and familiarizing yourself with recurring names and arcs, and even in a town where time doesn’t work, it’s best to start at the beginning! But there are so many Night Vale episodes famed for their prose and panache, and for good reason—shop around for what interests you!

For returning listeners

Meant to be a list of refreshers plus things that make you go “hey WHAT happened while I was gone???”

16, “The Phone Call”: Don’t we all wish we could recapture the experience of hearing Cecil squeak “Neat!” for the first time... (To new listeners: Have you heard Carlos the Scientist’s (season one) voice before? Have you heard Cecil being smitten and mortified? Would you like to?)

27, “First Date”: Listen, I’m trying to get y’all in the cecilos mood again, is it working

49A and B, “Old Oak Doors”: Possibly the best climax to any arc ever. This live recording goes so, so hard

67, “Best Of?”: Okay, I have a huge multidimensional timeline charted for Cecil, and this episode does heavy lifting for about 60% of it

110, “Matryoshka”: This episode will undo you. Talk about reckonings. Genuinely impactful writing, and a gorgeous resolution to one of my favorite arcs

111, “Summer 2017, Night Vale, USA”: THE episode for returning listeners. I’ll let the episode summary speak for itself: Everything is the same. Everything is different.

135, “The Mudstone Abyss Part 1”: Hey, remember that Kevin guy? Wonder what he's up to these days!

144, “The Dreamer” and the rest of the Blood Space War arc (144-149): This arc will fuck you up irrevocably and you will not regret it

171, “Go to the Mirror?”: Very possibly one of the scariest episodes in the podcast, thanks in no small part to Cecil Baldwin’s stellar voice acting and the sound design

182 and 192, “It Sticks with You” and “It Doesn’t Hold Up”: In line with 171, these episodes will make you fucked up about Cecil Palmer

195 and 196, “Silas the Thief”: Just trust me

212, “The Campus”: Wanna dive right into the current arc? Here you go!

My bias is especially clear in this set, and for that I apologize, but I really think it’s worth refamiliarizing yourself with some of the long-running plot threads to get the max enjoyment out of the current arcs, which so far have been high-octane and recalled a lot of early elements of the show, not to mention Cecil and Carlos backstory!

Closing notes

I know this is a long list! It was a struggle paring it down as much as I did—half my favorites aren’t even here :’) I hope my enthusiasm for so many episodes makes it clear how dearly I hold this show to my heart; Night Vale has been a second home to me for years now, and I hope you give it a chance to be yours too <3

[pirate-fan-rachelle]

Note: this Gijinka sketch was made in Dec 26 2022

An idea I made year ago!

(Long post ahead)

So..I had this idea during my MU phase and that idea is "what if Johnny has a human friend?"

Sully have Boo, so I thought "You know what? I'm gonna give this Monster a little friend"

So say hello to Sammy!

(2nd note: I was joking on this old sketch about Johnny adopting the child, but, he does gives off the father figure to Sam, because I love Johnny)

(Old quick sketch from Dec 29 2022 that has been redrawn today)

Undercut will show my early concept of this au

In the early concept, Sam is a 4 y/o boy who loves bug, and since his mom work as a entomologist, he's allowed to keep a stag bettle as his pet.

How did Sam met Johnny?

Well...it's still in WIP, in the beta concept,

It takes place right after Monster Inc Movie

Lets just say, Sam accidentally met Johnny somewhere which actually scared Johnny himself (3rd note: I just wanna assume that he still think that human are toxic)

It's like when Sully & Mike are dealing with Boo at their apartment (but slightly different?)

Until someone convinced him that Sam wasn't dangerous

Time skip, One day Johnny finally became Sammy's friend.

So when it's night time, he wait for Johnny to come by just to pick him up to play with him.

Also, Sammy nickname Johnny "Beetle" because his big horn reminded him his pet Stag beetle 🪲

Most part of the stories are pretty obvious that it's still WP / unfinished, and the reason are:

- I don't even know what Johnny's home looked like (assumed he lived in a mansion or something), plus we don't know what Fear Co. Even look like on the inside (if this was necessary to this idea of mine?)

- I'm bad at writing a canon characters' accurate personalities & action (ex. What they do, how they talk and so on..)

- I might have forgotten a lot of parts about MI & MU's stories (I'm not good at remembering thing easily)

- I'm not good at making story, so I wasn't able to execute it well (due to my bad English and grammar and also lack of making good story, I think? English is not my first language anyway nor was I a good writer)

- Lastly, I'm still deciding whether I should make this into a 4 panel mini comic series or not (I was inspired from a certain game creator who made a 4koma series of their new game)

And...that's pretty much it,

Boi was this a long post compared to the post I made about my AB oc's design.

I know this was just a silly idea of mine but I still love this concept regardless.

I'm nervous to post this i public cuz' I think people might find my idea to be weird but I just had this random burst of energy of writing this post from 1 - 2 AM (yes you read that correctly).

Thank you for your time reading this!

End of post, back to sleep 🛌💤

[jayspaceinc]

Hanbin (AU)

[A/N: I adore Kori. She might be my favourite character out of everybody in AWDY so this au is just a silly little imagine and nothing personal to the character or her transition]

Written: 10/26/24

12 year old Hanbin wrung his hands as he sat at the table. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while and.. I think I wanna be a girl.” He gulped in anticipation of what could come next the moment the words slipped from his mouth.

One of his older brothers cackled beside him. “You don’t wanna be a girl just because you like boys, Hanbin.”

“But I don’t like boys. I really—“

“Enough. You shouldn’t joke about such vile things, Hanbin. Nor should you be encouraging it, Jongsoo. Both of you, finish your dinner and head to bed.”

“But I wasn’t—“

His father glared in his direction and he sighed, picking up his fork. “Yes sir.” He should’ve just kept it to himself. He knew no one would believe him anyways.

—

Hanbin thought about what his brother had said at the table… about liking guys. He hadn’t considered it before but maybe he was right. Maybe he didn’t want to be a girl and he just wanted to be with a boy. That was the better option, right? Hanbin could like boys. They could be just as pretty as girls could he supposed.

‘Your hair is getting long again,’ His mother signed, taking a piece in her hands. ‘We should cut it.’

‘It’s not hurting anybody. What’s wrong with keeping it a little long?’ 16 year old Hanbin signed back.

She glared. ‘You know your father would never approve. You need to look professional. Prepare yourself to fall into the family business.’

He sighed. Again with this family business talk. ‘Well I’m not going to cut it now. It’s the middle of the week. I’ll cut it this weekend. Deal?’

‘Fine. Have it your way.’

—

“I almost thought you were a chick from behind, Benjamin.” A friend laughed as they placed a hand on Hanbin’s shoulder and plopped down in the seat beside him.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

“I dunno, it’s just a statement. You’ve got one of those soft faces that girls love. Makes you look like a supermodel like Takahite Muzo.”

“Girls are the farthest thing from my mind, Casp.”

“Yeah, I know. But hey, guys like a soft looking face too.” Casper patted his shoulder, getting shrugged off by an uninterested Hanbin.

Casper was a guy that Hanbin had met over the summer last year. The two had a short fling that quickly fizzled out and neither thought to bring it up again. It was only by chance that they went to the same school. Hanbin only hung around him because he didn’t have much of anyone else to hang around and home was getting unbearable with all this talk of ‘taking over the company’. He had two older, way more capable brothers. Why was all the pressure on him? He zoned out, looking into the sea of high schoolers that all seemed to radiate perfection and beauty. He felt nothing like them. Sure, he was captain of the swim team and that had drawn eyes towards him but without that, he’d surely drift into the background. His eyes lingered on a gaggle of girls sitting around the table all talking and laughing with one another. He imagined himself at the table with them, talking and laughing just alike.

“Ben…~” a distant, muffled voice called but he ignored it, lost in thought.

To tell the truth, Hanbin loved when his hair got long. But he was only allowed to keep it that way in the winter. Once it was warm enough outside, he was expected to cut it regularly. He had a tendency to forget until scolded by one, if not both, of his parents. If he had it his way, he’d keep his hair as long as possible and wear whatever he wanted. Not stupid polo shirts, khakis, and dry cleaned silk pressed suits. He’d paint his nails and wear eyeliner and shirts that would show his stomach if he lifted his arms. Maybe if he gained enough confidence, he could even wear a dress—

“Ben. It’s almost time for class. Are you going to eat or what?” Casper nudged him and nodded towards his full plate sitting on the table.

“Yeah.. sorry, I got distracted.”

“Who are you staring at this time?” Quinton asked on the side of an eighteen year old Hanbin. Quinton had replaced Casper as his only friend as the two had a falling out the previous year. Casper wanted to be more than friends but Hanbin didn’t. At least, that’s what he told him. In truth, he was scared of what his family would say if the two were to actually date.

“The new girl that's in our senior class.” Hanbin said, looking over at the girl who had caught everyone’s eye. Her skin was practically glowing and she had curves everywhere not to mention intelligence. Rumor had it she had skipped a few grades.

“Isn’t she like fifteen?”

“Is she?” Her body was already perfect, and so young too. Hanbin’s was far from perfect. His body was too straight. It had absolutely zero curves.

“Stop being a weirdo before you get caught.” He elbowed him in the side. “I thought you were gay anyways.”

“Yeah, kind of.” Hanbin sighed and tore his eyes away. “But, my dad’s been talking about ‘thinking of the family’ as of late. Stop pretending and embrace the truth of my life or something like that.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

He shrugged. “Don’t really have a choice.”

“Everybody has a choice.”

“It’s not worth arguing with him over. It’s easier to just shut up and do what’s asked.”

“If that’s what you want, I can't convince you to do otherwise.. But I hope you know that’s sad, Hanbin. You don't have any life aspirations for yourself. You don’t try to enjoy any part of your life, you let them have all the fun.”

“That’s not true.”

“What's your dream? What do you want to be? What do you want to do with your life?” Each individual question rattled in Hanbin’s mind, each one harder than the last.

What’s your dream…?

What do you want to be ..?

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while and.. I think I wanna be a girl.”

Hanbin’s eyes watered. “I… I don’t know.” He strained. “It’s easier that I don't think about those things. I have to go, I’m sorry.”

—

Hanbin stared out the window as his father drove them home. He watched the trees, houses, and buildings fly by in an overlooked breeze. “Do you remember when I was 12 and I said I wanted to be a girl..?” He asked quietly.

The car came to an abrupt stop as they sat at the light and his father’s hands gripped onto the wheel. “What is the point in bringing this up? To anger me again?”

“No..” He quickly deflected. “I’ve been thinking about it and you were right. I haven’t been thinking about the family.. but I’d like to start. You were talking about an arranged marriage with Mr. Choi’s daughter, weren’t you?”

“..Yes. Choi Hyunwoo of the 3Cs Software Development Group. Marriage will make the merger a lot smoother. It is harder to backstab family.”

“Maybe.. I could marry her?”

“No. If you marry her, 3C will try to insert their personal opinion into projects. She will go with one of your brothers. They’re worthy of such punishment. For you, we need someone much better than that slut.”

“..Okay.”

“Until then, you will focus on your studies. Understood?”

“Understood.”

In the spring of Hanbin’s sophomore year of college, he was married to Park Haeun from the Park Shipping and Distribution Company. She was three years under him, having only just graduated high school but his father insisted this was the most optimal choice for him.

“Haeun is meek. She is quiet and will not question anything you say. She is the perfect wife.” His father had said before his marriage.

He was right, Haeun was quiet. And so was Hanbin. The house they shared which had been gifted to them by their parents sat in complete silence most days. Hanbin was lucky to see his wife at all, let alone speak with her.

“Hanbin, do you not like me..?” Haeun asked quietly as they sat beside one another in bed.

“Why do you say that?” He asked, looking away from his book.

She wrung her hands on the sheets. “You never touch me.. even on our honeymoon, you didn’t. I just worry that I’ve done something wrong.”

“No, I don’t think you have. Not to me at least.”

“Then… can we sleep together?” She asked just above a whisper.

He agreed for once. Somehow, this felt better than laying with a man in a way he couldn’t describe. It had a different level of obscurity to it. While his experiences with men had allowed him to imagine the concept of subservience, this actually showed him which cues he was missing. The breathiness, the desperate arcs, the pure submissiveness— he had missed all of those marks. Each time they were together, Hanbin took careful time to study every single ounce of her composure, hoping to capture that exact same essence within himself one day.

When Hanbin was alone, he often practised how his feminine performance should be. The sounds and movements he would make if he were in Haeun’s position. Sometimes, when he was sure she would be away for a good while, he would try on her clothes. Just to see how they would look on himself. Each time brought an exhilarating rush that he had to swallow down and forget.

—

Seven months after their marriage, Haeun was with child. Both of their families were overjoyed but Hanbin was horrified. Him? A father? He’d be a horrible father. The thought made him sick. He pushed himself into work, going to the office twice as much as before since he’d be taking over as soon as he graduated college.

Hanbin worked many long days since taking over the company and hardly came home before dark. This was because he couldn’t stand the sight of his supposed ‘family’. His wife and bastard child. The child may as well have been a bastard with how little he was there. Work had finished early today and he couldn’t bear the thought of going home. There was a pub not too far from work and he decided to set up shop there to drown out his sorrows. Was this the life he had imagined for himself? Working day and night and coming home to a family he barely loved? His son looked just like his mother and nothing like himself as if it were a cruel joke that he was alive at all. Hanbin often imagined a different life. One where he was happy and content with himself. One where he wasn’t such a drag. Haeun had caught him wearing one of her dresses one day and though she didn’t bring it up, Hanbin never wore one again. The spark that he once had studying Haeuns movements faded and became just another monotonous part of his routine.

“Benjamin, fancy seeing you here.” A familiar voice wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“How’d you know it was me?” Hanbin asked honestly, surprised he could point him out so easily in a large bar like this one.

“I’d know that pretty face from anywhere, you know that.” Casper pinched his face. “Nice monkey suit by the way.”

Hanbin removed his hand off his chin and finished the rest of his glass. “Thank you.”

“So what are you doing nowadays?”

“I’m the current CEO of my grandfather’s company.”

“Ooh~ fancy big boy job. Shouldn’t you be drinking in a much fancier, more expensive place then?”

He shrugged. “I just needed somewhere to unwind. The where didn’t really matter to me.”

“Same Ben as always. If you’re just looking for a good drink, come with me. I know a place that has drinks you could die for.” Casper slid out of his bar seat and took his hand.

Hanbin stared reluctantly before paying his tab and following him out.

The place Casper had dragged him away to was a gay bar full of strobe lights and strong drinks. Up on stage, there was a drag show. Gay men who dressed as women for the fun of it all… maybe he could be a part of that some day. He was losing cognisance with each drink that he downed. What a silly idea. Hanbin. Dressing up as a woman.. What a laugh that was. Dancing with Casper had reminded Hanbin a part of himself that he had been missing. He didn’t know how or why but he found himself going home with Casper that night. In bed, he practised every single routine that he had catalogued away in the back of his mind for when the time was right. Each desperate whine and breath.. each playful, teasing arc as his eyes looked up… each pull and tug with the beg for more, assuring himself he could take it… he imagined himself as Haeun— completely subservient and willing to do whatever.

—

Twice a week, Casper and Hanbin would meet. He would lie to his wife, saying that since the company was expanding, they needed him at the office much more now. The truth was, there were more than enough employees to pick up the slack but it would keep him out of the house with good reason. To his father, it only made him look better. Knowing that he chose to work late even though he had capable workers. His father wouldn’t be as happy to know what his son was really doing… but Hanbin could keep this a secret. For his own happiness, he had to.

With Casper, he let himself run loose. He would wear high heels and fishnets and the brightest of reds lipstick. He felt pretty like this. Desired even. He let his hair grow longer and his nails too. But only for a little while, he couldn’t run the risk of anyone finding out. He wore dark eyeshadow and dresses that clung onto him like skin. This was the happiest he had ever felt. Everything about this felt right. The facade was broken each morning that he returned home, forced to play the role of Hanbin once more.

“Hanbin.. have I done something to upset you?” Haeun asked as they sat across from one another at the table one early morning.

“No. Why?” Hanbin didn’t even bother to look in her direction as he continued reading.

“You don’t touch me anymore.. you don’t even look at me or Seungyun.”

“Work is busy right now, I’ve told you that before.”

“Yes, but—“

“That company is what provides for you and me. If I don’t take care of it, then I can’t take care of you or our son, now can I?”

“M-Maybe but—“

“Why are you still talking back?” Hanbin sighed, annoyed.

“I’m sorry. You’re right.” She bowed her head and remained quiet.

“I’ll be staying later at the office again today. I’ll be home tomorrow morning. Can you make sure my clothes are clean for the Otakibara consult that I have tomorrow afternoon?”

She nodded. “What time will you be back tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure yet. Early enough to change clothes and head back to the office by 9.”

“Should I cook something for you in the morning?”

“No need. I won’t be here too long.”

—

“You took longer to get here today,” Casper said as he laid beside Hanbin in bed, playing with his long hair.

“Haeun has been asking what time I leave work lately. I waited until everyone else left the building to come to you.” Hanbin explained as he clung onto him underneath the covers, their bare chests pressed against one another’s.

“Can’t take any risks, huh? Is being with me so sinful?”

“No, it’s the most freeing thing in the world to be myself around you. The sin is that I can’t be like this with anyone else,” he admitted honestly, looking into his eyes. “I feel like a completely different person around you.”

“I’m flattered. But I haven’t done anything except love and accept you. How you represent yourself around me is all you. I just wish you didn’t hide it.”

“No one in my family would understand.. they’d think I was confused and didn’t know what I was talking about. They’d make me feel stupid and childish. You don’t. You’ve always told me how pretty I am..”

“That’s because it’s true. You are pretty. Beautiful, even.” He kissed him, laying his lips against his ever so softly.

Hanbin clung onto him, cusping his jaw in his hands. “Come to my place next weekend. The house’ll be empty and I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Are you sure? That sounds risky even for you, Ben.”

“Haeun is going to visit her family in Seoul. She’s taking the baby with her too so it’ll be just the two of us.”

“That does sound nice but..”

“Please? I miss seeing you.”

“Okay. Just this once though.”

But it wasn’t just that once. Whenever Haeun flew away for a few days, Hanbin invited Casper over. What was the harm? Who would find out?

—

Caspers chest heaved and his eyes squinted from the rising sun shining down into his eyes through the large windows. “I’ve barely woken up and I’m already ready to go back to bed.” He panted.

“I’ll go make breakfast.”

“Mnh mnh. No need. Just a cup of coffee will fix me.” He said muffled as he clung onto Hanbin's waist.

“Fine, let me go so I can make it then.” Hanbin unraveled himself and tied on a robe, kissing the side of his head before he walked downstairs.

His heart dropped as he noticed his mother calmly sitting on the couch. How long had she been there? Had she heard him? He wanted to hide his makeup smeared face that he had no viable excuse for quite yet. He gulped. “Mom.”

His mother glanced over, shooting daggers into his being. “You are such a shameful, disgusting thing. You should be lucky that it was me and not your father that visited today.”

“I- yes, maam.”

“You will end things and make it up to your wife. Do you understand? Your father is not to learn a word of this.”

“I understand.”

—

Hanbin tried to distance himself from Casper. Truly, he did. For weeks, he tried to tell him they were incompatible and that it simply wouldn’t work but Casper refused to believe him and seeing his tears, Hanbin caved, admitting the true reason. He couldn’t bear to be away and so they promised to simply be more careful. No more weekend stays like before and for now, they would only meet once a week so Hanbin could pretend to rekindle a romance with Haeun but he assured Casper it would only be imaginary for him. For a good year they lived like this. Hanbin slowly regained Haeun’s trust before he introduced more late nights into his schedule.

By 26, Hanbin had two kids and his relationship with Haeun was more strained than ever. They fought more and more which only made Hanbin bury himself deeper into his work than ever before. Now, he met with Casper four nights a week, needing a desperate escape from the settled life he’d created for himself. Casper embraced the true parts of himself. He bought him the nicest clothes he could wear. Necklaces, earrings. He knew the true her tucked deep inside. Not like his family. They pushed for him to be something he wasn’t. He’d do anything to get rid of this weight.

In a shocking halt, his wish came true in the worst way possible. Haeun had found a pair of underwear while cleaning and suspected Hanbin of cheating. He denied all accusations and even gaslit her, insisting they were hers. But she didn’t believe him. Her family bought a private investigator to catch him in the act of cheating.. to which they did but not with a woman like they had expected. Needless to say, Park Shipping and Distribution Company wanted nothing to do with a tranny husband and requested a divorce. Hanbin's father found out in the worst way imaginable..

“After everything that I’ve worked hard to curate for you, you throw it all back in my face for laughs? For almost 6 years, the Kim and the Park family had a perfect merger, joined by your marriage and now all of that is thrown away! Do you even think, Hanbin?!”

“I..”

“Answer me.”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Yes, that much is clear. You don’t know anything. You wouldn’t know a blessing if it landed in your lap. Honestly, I had such higher hopes for you. I’ll be passing the company onto your brother for the time being. Clearly I need to re-evaluate my judgement. While you are on suspension, you will be brought down to executive assistant.”

“Understood.” He let his head hang low.

Hanbin stopped speaking with Casper per his family’s request. He deleted every message and call log that they had exchanged, burning the luxurious gifts he had bought for him afterwards. He needed to focus on his future and make good out of his family. His father had the smudge wiped from his record and told him to be on his best behaviour following this event as he wouldn’t be there to bail him out if such a thing were to occur again.

His father had somehow convinced the Park family to reconsider their divorce request and Haeun returned to live with him with their children. With her, she’d brought two new servants. One to watch the children and one to cook and clean. Her father had said it was to ‘ease her load’ while she lived here but he had a feeling it was so the house would never be completely empty again like it used to be.

By 29, Hanbin had earned his father’s trust bit by bit and moved up to CFO. A role meant to be hidden behind the scenes with no public limelight. His son, Seungyun was six now and his little girl, Chaesoo was almost three now. Haeun would be giving birth to another baby girl in the spring. He should be happy. He was happy. This was what everyone wanted. And everyone else was happy, who was he to take that away? Even so, Hanbin always felt like he was missing a piece of himself. Like he wasn't truly who he was meant to be. There was something different in his heart. Something that he felt shift when he was with the right people. He had confessed long ago to his old high school friend Quinton, that he had always felt like deep inside he connected more with girls than he ever could boys in a way that exceeded sexuality. Quinton always said if that was how he felt, he should embrace it and become what he wanted to be. With Casper, Hanbin took that advice to heart and became his truest self. He wore whatever he wanted and enjoyed every single second of it. And best of all, he had someone in his corner cheering him on through it all. Some days, Hanbin still thought about Casper and what could’ve been. If he hadn’t been too scared to choose him above his family. If he had become the woman he truly wanted to be… but that thought was just a fantasy tucked deep into the back of his mind again. Now he was Hanbin and he had to stay like that for the benefit of everyone else.

At 51, long after all his children had grown into adults and fully functional in society, Hanbin stepped down from his grandfather’s company. He became a missing person’s case and his last known appearance was somewhere off the coast of the Santa Cruz Beachfront where an eye witness report said they watched as he walked into the ocean and never came back out. Police and family members suspect that it was a suicide and thus the case was shelved.

At 52, Hanbin found peace living in secrecy. He lived far off on a remote island by the name of Calypso. Her hair was long and her nails were painted midnight blue to match her eyes. She wore the most elegant, most beautiful pieces of jewellery and dresses that clung onto her like they were always meant to be there. She had kept just a few items tucked away, keepsakes that she had held onto to remind her of a lover long past. Calypso was happy like this. She felt like she had finally found a part of herself. The part that she had kept hidden deep down inside herself for so long that she almost thought it wasn’t real. Sometimes, it felt like she had imagined such a life of happiness and beauty actually coming into fruition. She waded by the sea shores each morning, looking out into the horizon imagining if she had stayed. If she had chosen to stay miserable until death like her family wanted her to.

[end]

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[jellostories]

AJ the Very Whimsical, Ch. 26: Fill 'er Up

One chilly October's afternoon on their way home from school, AJ and her mom stopped by their local fueling station, Rod's Stop n' Go, for recharging purposes.

Like all motorized vehicles in this world, Blaze's golf cart ran on four rechargable, 40-volt batteries that were stored in a little compartment in the back of the cart.

As soon as she pulled up to an open charging pillar, Blaze opened up the aforementioned compartment, pulled out the batteries, and placed them in the charging slots on the pillar. As the batteries charged, the amount of money it would cost Blaze rose on the screen above the cash slot. For her family's sake, Blaze hoped it wouldn't cost more than $26. She was already running low on cash for the month.

Meanwhile, AJ hummed happily from her seat in the back of the golf cart, peering curiously at all the drivers charging their car batteries at the various stations. But then, AJ saw...HIM.

Sitting in a green convertible jeep stationed diagonally from AJ, playing on his portable game system, was Freddy Jensen, the red-haired sixth-grader AJ had a crush on.

Immediately, hearts appeared in AJ's green eyes, and her real heart began to hammer in her chest like an overactive construction worker.

"Schnookie-Poo..." the little girl said dreamily.

While her mommy busied herself with blowing a bubble-pipe (which Blaze had taken up as an alternative to smoking), AJ hastily unbuckled her seatbelt and ran over to the Jensens' jeep, much to the whole family's startlement.

"Bonjour, mon sweet amour," the French girl cooed. She brought her freckled, blushing face uncomfortably close to Freddy's tan one. "Fancy seeing you 'ere, non?"

"Uhhh..." Freddy uttered, too astonished to think straight.

Sitting right next to the redheaded 11-year-old were his younger sister and brother, both of whom were giggling and hiding their eyes from the one-sided kiddie romance going on, respectively.

In the front seat of the jeep, Mrs. Jensen looked like she was battling feelings of disgust and cute-gushiness (one voice in her mind: "What the French toast!? They're both kids! Neither of them are old enough to date yet! Stop them, Debi -- before they start holding hands or something!" / Another voice: "But they would look so cute together!!").

And finally, Mr. Jensen kept checking the charging levels on the car batteries, looking very much like he wanted to be anywhere that didn't have a little Pepe Le Pew girl.

And speaking of little Pepe Le Pew girls...

"I've been renting a lot of videotapes about romance from ze video store, cher," AJ crooned, still totally oblivious to Freddy and his family's increasing discomfort, "and, because of zat, I know all ze treecks and fleeps we 'ave to do to make our relationship work!"

Freddy shoved AJ back a few inches so they weren't breathing on each other anymore.

"'Tr-Tricks and flips'?" the redheaded boy echoed, not liking how weird the phrase sounded.

AJ shrugged. "Eet's somezing my Pop-Pop says. 'E's from Molandia, and zey LOVE making up weird phrases. But anyways," the silly girl clapped her hands, a huge grin appearing on her face, "back to ze romance! Ze first step, according to Keeds Fake Zings, eez--”

“Getting the heck away from me?” Freddy suggested hopefully.

AJ laughed. “Non, non, you seelly goose egg! We ’ave to ’ave a pajama party! And, coincidentally--”

The bubbly girl ripped off her outer clothes to reveal a pair of pink, frog-themed footie pajamas, making the Jensens gasp in awe. Unseen by AJ, Freddy’s little sister made a gagging noise. She HATED pink (she liked P!nk, though).

“--I just ‘appen to be wearing some! Da-ta~!” AJ declared, shaking her fingers like a showwoman.

Freddy made a noise like a gagging fish. He was now 100% certified, officially-for-certain uncomfortable and freaked out. 

Misdirected by his lack of speech, AJ ran up to her “Schnookie-Poo” and got her face uncomfortably close to his again.

“So, what are you saying, cherie?” the silly girl asked. “Do you want to ‘ave ze pajama party de kiddie romance weeth me? I promise you, eet’s going to be super-duper-tres awesome! We’ll ‘ave a leetle tea party, and watch a movie, and braid each ozzer’s ‘air, and dance around to--”

While AJ carried on with her enthusiastic babbling, an electronic beep-beep-boop sound emanated from the charging pillar, signaling that the car batteries had finished charging.

Giving a huge sigh of relief, Mr. Jensen took the batteries out of their stations, loaded them into their port in the back of the car, put the money he owed in the cash slot, hopped into the driver's seat, and lit the ignition.

This caught AJ's attention. "Oh? Are you going home so Schnookie-Poo can grab 'is jammies, monsieur?"

In response, Mr. Jensen turned around and spat: "You stay away from my son, you little booger!"

AJ's jaw dropped in shock as the Jensens rolled away in their jeep, with Freddy mouthing a hasty "sorry" to the French girl.

As she watched the green vehicle disappear into the distance, however, AJ's smile morphed back onto her face.

"Oh, I get eet!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands with realizationism. "Eet's just like Julio & Romiette! Our parents are trying to keep us apart, but we meet up in a garden at night and get married anyway!" AJ thoughtfully stroked her chin. "I wonder what 'appens at ze end of zat movie? I never got to feenish eet before Mommy took eet back to Flickmaster...ah, well! Eet probably doesn't matter!"

Humming another cheerful tune to herself, AJ skipped back towards her mother's golf cart, where Blaze was in the middle of taking the batteries out of their charging pillar. The little girl managed to hop into her car seat and buckle herself up at the exact same second Blaze had turned back towards the cart with the batteries in her hand.

The elder Arquette smiled at her child. 

"Bonjour, Crumpet," she said somewhat teasingly as she loaded the batteries into the fuel port. "You do anyzing fun while I was recharging our cart's batteries?"

"Oh, mais oui!" AJ answered with a glowing smile and a nod of her head. "I saw my Schnookie-Poo, and we made plans to 'ave a romantic slumber party!"

Blaze dropped her cart's batteries and her bubble pipe in shock, and stared at her daughter with eyes as wide as golfballs.

"What ze actual--"

[chudleycanonficfest]

Day 26, Post #1 by @cheesyficwriter

Title: The Greatest Chapter 

Author: cheesyficwriter

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

Prompt: Moving in together

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: None

Prompt: Moving in together 

  The Greatest Chapter

At age 10, I had the most embarrassing schoolgirl crush on Harry Potter. I'd see him and run in the opposite direction, painting the perfect image of me as a young girl who lacked the confidence needed to formulate words — any words — around someone I liked. 

Before getting to know Harry for who he really was, I was so infatuated with the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived. I wanted so desperately to be going to Hogwarts with Ron before I was old enough, knowing that Harry Potter would be there too. 

The way Harry took on a basilisk to save my life during my first year did nothing but solidify my growing feelings for him. My crush never really went away but instead transformed into a casual friendship based upon our shared experience in the Chamber of Secrets, a friendship that I was willing to accept at the time because I just wanted to be around him. 

As we grew up, I started to relax more in his presence. We gained a mutual respect for one another, exchanging laughs in the Great Hall and sharing in-jokes during Christmases at the Burrow. Those little moments, in between all of the chaos and turmoil of what used to be, helped me learn a few things about Harry that I wouldn’t have discovered otherwise — not even on the front page of The Daily Prophet.  

When I was younger, I admired Harry because I was under the impression that he possessed traits that I didn’t. I never imagined that I could be as brave, or courageous, or charismatic as he was to me. What surprised me the most about our developing friendship at Hogwarts was that there were far more similarities between us than differences. We shared the same wicked sense of humor — that I like to say I inherited from my plethora of brothers — yet could still hold my own during quick-witted battles, and I often found myself looking at Harry whenever something made me laugh, just to see if he was laughing, too. My stomach always spiraled when, more often than not, I found him looking back at me. We used our shared humor to our advantage, and I was thankful for that small respite in the midst of so much darkness. 

We shared the same values, both of us realizing the importance of family, friends, and love above everything else. It’s what we fought for every day, even when it seemed like we were too young to really know what love was. 

As our friendship continued, my romantic feelings for Harry were buried deep down in a place where I was once convinced they would stay. I decided to throw all of my energy into school, developing my skills as a witch, thus growing the confidence I needed along the way to put myself out there with other, more available boys. 

For years, we were caught up in our own lives, and it shocked me more than anyone to have captured Harry’s attention when I least expected it. From the first moment he kissed me, I never hesitated. All of those feelings I had attempted to bury came rushing back to the surface, like revealing a galleon that I had stashed at the bottom of my trunk. 

I will never forget those few stolen weeks we had together when I was 15 and he was 16. He described it as something out of someone else’s life, and at the time, I had thought that was all we would ever be. Time was fleeting, and there wasn’t enough of it. 

Harry had no choice but to dedicate his life to fighting for the wizarding world, and I was always determined to be right there beside him, up until the point where I couldn’t. I was smart enough to understand why he didn’t ask me to come with him. It was his mission. His, Ron’s, and Hermione’s. I didn’t often miss the times the three of them carried on by themselves, engaging in secret conversation and disappearing without the faintest clue of their whereabouts until much later. 

On that fateful day that Harry broke things off, I already knew what he was so desperately trying to convey to me. If I were to have accompanied him on the Horcrux hunt, it would’ve been me he was worried about instead of finding the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that were crucial to defeating him. 

That notion — although tragic in a sense — gave me more pleasure than the feeling of scoring an impossible goal during a Quidditch match. 

Regardless, Harry was never far from my mind those long months that he was gone. My childhood crush seemed silly at that point because I had gained so much more than a fleeting romance. 

As time passed, and Harry and I found our way back to each other after Voldemort's defeat, it took us a minute to catch our bearings and resume our relationship that we had put on an indefinite pause. 

It hadn’t always been easy dating him. In fact, dealing with the fame that Harry carried around with him from being a war hero had been a lot harder than I ever anticipated. But it was always unspoken that we managed, despite what any publishings had to say about us. 

I came to love him, not for being Harry Potter, but for who he truly was. His heart. His courage.  

As I stood reflecting on my relationship with Harry in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place, I was overcome with emotion. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was the one we were destined to have, and that made every hardship worth it. 

The room housed a large window overlooking the street, a charming — albeit dusty — fireplace, and ornate fixtures. For a person who just moved in, I felt like the house itself could have been in worse shape. Harry did an exceptional job keeping the place organized, especially for someone who, up until just a few days ago, lived there by himself. 

That’s not to say I hadn’t already spent plenty of nights at Grimmauld Place over the last couple of years. In fact, I probably spent more nights there than I did at the Burrow once I returned home from my final year at Hogwarts. 

It was during those nights that I discovered just a fraction of the pain Harry went through. He’d always been intensely emotional, and so many nights I spent shaking him from his residual nightmares of the trauma he went through, despite the wizarding world being in a much better place. I comforted him the best I could in those moments, determined to make it clear to him that I’m never letting go — not this time. 

I smiled to myself as I took a seat on the piano bench, observing the peeling paint from one of the large, cracked walls. We had a lot of work to do, but moving in together was a proper next step for us. 

"Gin? Are you home?" Harry’s voice carried through the dusty walls. 

Before I could respond, Harry was already standing in the open archway, head tilted to the side with curiosity etched across his face. “Were you just staring at a blank wall?”

I crossed my arms, determined not to let him know about my extensive reflection into our past. “So what if I was, Potter?”

He looked as if he wanted to question my retort further but instead joined me at the piano, bumping his shoulder with mine. 

“It’s a lot of fun coming home to you,” he admitted, the rich, melodic sound of the piano filling the open space from his fingertips pressing against one of the keys. 

“You know that’s practically how we were before, right? When was the last time we spent a night apart?”

Harry shrugged, and it was clear he never really thought about it. “Dunno, but it was one night too many, I reckon.”

I sighed, wanting to ask a question that had been weighing on my heart. “Do you find it odd that we’ve never really argued? I mean, even when you broke up with me-”

“Why must we go back to that?” Harry interrupted, a pained look crossing his face. 

I gave him a playful pat on the arm. I wanted our past to be something positive we could look back on and didn’t fancy dwelling on the shit times. 

“Shush. I’m just saying, even though it hurt a lot to not know where you were for almost a year, I always understood your decision. You had to go.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together, clearly still trying to work out the point of the conversation. “Where are you going with this?”

“I just-I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I rubbed my temple to ease my stressed-out mind. “I’m actually worried that we will never fight.”

“Oh, we’ll fight.”

I turned towards Harry, who was too busy fiddling with the piano keys to even look at me. He responded straight away, like he didn’t even have to think about it. “How can you be so certain?”

Harry snorted. “I’ve witnessed you get all hot-headed when you disagree with other people.” He sent me a dazzling grin, reaching out to trail his fingers through my stray ginger strands that hung loose from my ponytail. “You’ve got that fiery red hair. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Hey!”

“In fact,” Harry smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I think you’re the most problematic person I know, Ginevra.”

Harry yelped when I pinched his forearm. “You prat.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. “In all seriousness, though, we’re going to be fine.”

I stared at him in awe but leaned into him. “You are so sure of yourself.”

He grabbed my shoulders, pivoting our bodies so that we were facing each other on the bench. “You wanna know how sure I am?”

Before I could respond or even react, he kissed me full on the mouth. He growled as our kiss intensified, and all at once, our positions shifted as I felt a sharp pain in my back from my body making contact with the piano keys with a resounding trill. I was left dizzy and breathless, snogging Harry as a wave of happiness resonated through me. 

When he pulled away, his fierce emerald eyes locked on mine set my mind ablaze. “Does that answer your question?”

I decided his question didn’t require a verbal response, so I simply attached my hand to the nape of his neck before dragging his face back to mine. We didn’t talk much for a while after that. 

I knew, perhaps more than anyone else, how much Harry desired moving forward from the past. I’m ready, too, to start the greatest chapter of our lives.

[captmickey]

For the art ask:

2, 8, 9, 10, 26?

Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even) This is going to sound silly, but it depends on how the hair is parted? Like, for example, drawing Graham or no2 is easy no matter where they're facing because they don't have a specific part in their hair. But for someone like Link or Guybrush, it's easier to have facing right (erm... my left??) and no1 facing left because of how their hair is fixed. I can never draw them facing forward without it looking weird.... and I blame the nose.

What’s an old project idea that you’ve lost interest in I have a few? But I guess one that comes to mind is one that can be found in the tag "IdeaWIP". I liked the idea when I first started it but I kinda... fell out of it? I don't want to say I'm ditching it, but it's not as well thought out like, say, Guild Trio

What are your file name conventions Professionally? [Project]_v1. For 3adv, Act#_v1 (I sometimes have to split the acts into two files)

But normally? Uh.... this.

Favorite piece of clothing to draw Coats, capes and rolled up sleeves! I find that to be soothing and uh.... you may or may not have noticed me drawing a lot of the time characters with rolled up sleeves.

What’s a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended It happened TWICE! Once in a fandom and one in my actual portfolio come to mind.

The fandom time was years ago involving Elaine's hair that I colored with ink for inktober, instead of the usual reddish hair, it was black (cause I only had black ink) and someone thought I was drawing her "true" hair which was based on the amiga version. I didn't have the heart to tell them it was ink for inktober.... and I wasn't made aware of colored ink.

The portfolio one was I was taking an AP Art class and the teacher there asked to see our current paintings so far. I was painting a little farmer boy holding a frog, it was very very cute and one of my favorite paintings. Now, mind you, at the time I was painting with oil and the technique I was using meant that the base was in greyscale before coloring over (it's called the Old Master's Technique according to my art teacher I was taking after school). The painting I brought in to class to look at was about.... 80% done? Everything was colored except the model's face that I was going to work on after school. My teacher looked at it and then went gushing about the deep symbolism, how the boy holding the frog is holding the world in color while his eyes see darkness or something like that.... when I told her that it's actually none of that, it's just a boy holding a frog. She proceeded to lecture me that I should leave it like that for the symbolism.

Symbolism that wasn't there.

It haunts me to this day.

[nctsjiho]

King of Hearts

warnings: none

era: July 2021

❀ Lucas decides it’s time to take JiHo out for her first date

Leaned over the kitchen counter, rolling an orange from hand to hand, JiHo was deeply invested in the conversation she was having with her manager. Not Yebin, but her Esteem manager she was currently living with. The poor piece of fruit had suffered bruises from the few times the young girl had dropped it or tossed it too hard, but JiHo paid no mind as she listened to Sihyun – the manager – talk about the latest gossip in the model and acting industry. Yes, JiHo had the ‘privilege’, or whatever you wanted to call it, to get the insider-scoop about that industry before stuff got public, if it ever went public anyway.

Mid-conversation the two women heard the keypad of their front door beep, indicating that someone was trying to get inside. Usually this would concern the residents, definitely because they were the only ones living in the apartment, but Sihyun knew. She knew JiHo had practically given the password to their house to all her groupmates.

And even though Sihyun wasn’t initially comfortable with 23 men being able to walk inside her house at any given moment, she quickly came to terms with it when all the boys had been nothing but respectful of her privacy and 99% of the time would announce their arrival. The only times they did not announce it was during the early afternoon hours when they knew JiHo would be home alone, or on the occasional moment they would just forget. This time seemed like one of those moments.

“Hello princess!” A loud voice boomed through the apartment from the small corridor. Sihyun who stood on the other side of the counter had a clear visual of the surprise visitor and smiled watching his goofy stance. JiHo however didn’t need to take a look at him to know who the visitor was. “Took you long enough, how many days have you been in Korea already? And you hadn’t visited.” JiHo continued to play with the abused piece of fruit earning a scowl from Sihyun – she knew the girl wasn’t going to eat that orange afterwards and it would be headed straight for the bin.

Soon enough two long, strong arms slithered around the girl’s waist. “I’m sorry, but I’m here now.” JiHo felt her bar stool turn – it wasn’t even a swivel chair – until she was met with a bright smile. She couldn’t help herself but smile back, yet her smile quickly turned into a confused frown when she saw the bag in Lucas’ outstretched hand. “What’s this? A house warming gift? You know it’s a little late for that now.” Lucas just smiled as he shook his head. “We’re going on a date! Now go change.” He pushed the bag into JiHo’s lap.

The girl’s confused expression quickly turned into one of shock, while Sihyun just tried to contain her excited shrieks behind her hands. The 26 year old woman felt like she was watching some sort of K-drama and no one would blame her, since Lucas looked like a handsome main-lead with his hair styled back and wearing a nice pair of jeans along with a crisp looking white button up. Oh how Sihyun wished she could get him to agree to work under Esteem, but he was already successful enough getting modelling jobs without having to look for any. Every clothing brand and fashion magazine in Korea and China had their eyes on him already. Esteem had nothing more to offer to him.

“A date?” The boy – man might be a more appropriate title for him – nodded his head wildly, messing his hair up a bit in the meantime. “Why?” “Because I heard you’ve had a stressful time these past months and so I want you to relax. Plus! I missed you and I want to hang out.” JiHo’s face softened at the confession, but she couldn’t help but feel the nerves flutter in her stomach. “But we can hang out inside and just order some food or something-“ The feigned disappointed shake of Lucas’ head cut JiHo off mid-sentence. “Chenle told me you’ve been playing Valorant every day after your schedules, practise and recordings. It’s time for you to get your butt outside.” Before JiHo could protest a sigh from behind the kitchen counter caught their attention.

Sihyun’s eyes widened as she saw the two young idols look at her, but she quickly regained her composure. “I agree with Lucas. You seriously need to leave this house more.” “I have been! I literally went skateboarding all the time with Yangyang this month.” JiHo defended, yet Lucas faked a cough to grab her attention. “What?” “I’ve heard you haven’t went since that last time when you invited He-“ “Okay! I’ll get dressed, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” JiHo pushed herself of the chair and ran towards her room. Lucas and Sihyun both just smiled knowingly before engaging in a conversation together.

Dresses weren’t completely foreign territory for JiHo, she had worn a handful now for work and she was well aware that her taste in fashion had changed over the past few months. She now wasn’t completely opposed to wearing a dress casually, even though this had not yet happened so far. However, as she looked at the dress she felt her hands get a bit sweaty.

It wasn’t that the dress was ugly, or too revealing. Not at all. It was just that JiHo actually really liked it, she didn’t know how to react. Slipping the yellow fabric over her head, she noticed how the dress fit like a glove, as if it was made for her. It was a silly thought, but somehow JiHo felt like she was having her princess moment right now – which was fitting because this was all thanks to Lucas who liked to call her princess. For once JiHo felt super feminine in a comfortable way and she wouldn’t like to admit it, but she really loved the feeling.

JiHo quickly put on one of the necklaces Lucas had bought her months, maybe even years ago, did her makeup in record time – well the makeup really only consisted of mascara and a lip tint – and made sure her hair looked acceptable to go out. Once finished she walked back to Lucas who was still talking to Sihyun.

“Oh you look so cute!” Sihyun almost squealed causing JiHo to roll her eyes. “I’m ready to go.” The young girl said to catch Lucas attention. He turned his body so he could see JiHo standing beside him. It took a few seconds before Lucas could form the right words to say, taken aback by how different JiHo looked right then. “Wow~ You look even prettier right now.”

The bright smile and breathy words coming from Lucas didn’t fail to make JiHo flustered. She’d already gotten used to Lucas calling her ‘pretty’ and ‘beautiful’ a lot of times and she knew that he meant it every time, but right now the words just seemed to register differently and catch her off guard.

An open hand “harshly” made contact with Lucas’ arm to which he winced. “Let’s just go.” JiHo mumbled going to the corridor where her shoes and bags were located.

Lucas couldn’t stop himself from helping to choose a bag and a pair of shoes for JiHo which he thought would fit best with her outfit. “Where are we even going?” She asked curiously after slipping on a pair of low, cream, sandal-like heels. “It’s a surprise, but we’re definitely getting some food as well and we won’t have to walk too much. So don’t worry.” He teased, but JiHo couldn’t help but smile. “You know me too well.”

To say that JiHo needed this “date” was an understatement; with how she was beaming and laughing nonstop, Lucas could’ve sworn that if JiHo was locked up in her apartment one more day she would’ve completely lost it. He could visibly see how the tension in JiHo’s muscles melted away. The twinkle her eyes held looked so innocent and childlike, as if she was experiencing things for the first time. And as the duo now sat across each other at a table in one of the nicest rooftop restaurants in the area, Lucas couldn’t move his gaze from the everlasting smile on JiHo’s face boosting his pride.

“I didn’t know there was a butterfly garden in Seoul.” JiHo deeply exhaled, thinking back at how beautiful all the butterflies looked up close. “Did you like it?” Lucas asked, awaiting a positive answer. When JiHo’s eyes widened, Lucas started to get slightly worried, but the girl’s passionate answer quickly eased his nerves. “What do you think? I loved it! Every part. The butterfly garden, the café, and now this restaurant.” She then shoved the piece of steak that was on her fork into her mouth, not waiting until she had swallowed it she continued, “I think this is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

A low chuckle left Lucas’ lips as he watched JiHo chew and swallow the rest of her food. “I should take you out more often then.” He smiled, mostly to himself, but JiHo perked up at his words. “Hm? Why?” Lucas looked up to meet JiHo’s eyes. “I mean, today was great, so yeah I’d definitely wouldn’t mind doing this again. But why would you want to?” “Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this beautifully before.”

At his words JiHo couldn’t help but blush, the comment completely catching her of guard. She wondered how after those years of compliments Lucas managed to make her blush like that, but somehow, today, Lucas had found a way so that any- and everything he said or did would make her feel like a young teenage girl going on a date with her crush.

“You always try to be so professional and even if you have fun and play around sometimes, it’s like you’re always on your toes. Seeing you let go and genuinely be happy, being able to forget about your worries, it looks absolutely stunning on you JiHo.” JiHo looked down at her now empty plate before mumbling, “Did China turn you into a cheesy heartthrob or what’s up with you?” It was barely a question and definitely a coping mechanism – JiHo didn’t know how to react to Lucas sincerity – but Lucas was all for it, laughing at how adorable JiHo looked.

“What? Are you falling in love with me princess?” JiHo looked up with a gasp. “Don’t call me that in public! If someone hears you and recognises us, dating rumours are definitely going to spread and SM won’t be happy.” JiHo scolded, but Lucas could only laugh. She was clearly just trying to avoid the question because she was already very aware that Lucas rented out the whole rooftop for the two of them, no one would be able to hear them. And even if she did forget, with just one glance it would’ve been obvious it was only the two of them there, besides the 2 waiters who were enjoying their own conversation at the bar.

Once the duo had finished their dinner and after they continued talking for about 2 hours afterwards, they headed back to JiHo’s apartment. Luckily all the boys’ dorms weren’t too far away from the apartment, so Lucas wasn’t rushing to get her home or to leave after she arrived safely.

“You really didn’t have to walk all the way up here. You’re acting like we’re in some teenage chick flick.” JiHo smiled as she pushed in the code into her door’s keylock. With that Lucas leaned against the wall next to her – in the most cliché way – while sending her a smile of his own. “Do you not like it?” The keylock dinged at the correct input and JiHo began to push open the door with one hand, the other hand pushing at Lucas’ chest. “Careful or I’ll tell Yuta oppa about this and I don’t think he’d be too happy.” For a second Lucas smile faded as he felt the tiniest bit of fear arise at the though of his hyung’s possible reaction, but his smile returned just as quickly. “I’m sure he won’t after he sees all the pretty pictures I took of you today.”

Again JiHo felt her cheeks flare up just the slightest, but this time purely out of embarrassment. “Don’t show those pictures to anyone.” “But you looked pretty today. And it’s not as if the boys haven’t see you wearing a dress before.” JiHo just shook her head and sent him a warning glare. “But I don’t mind being the only one who’s allowed to see you look this pretty- Ouch! What was that for?” The boy held his arm where he just got pinched.  “For being annoying.”

A pout formed on Lucas’ lips but it quickly got wiped away once JiHo pulled him into a quick hug, making sure the front door didn’t fall back into the lock with her foot keeping it open. “Thanks for today. Thanks for being my prince and taking me out on my first date.” Normally JiHo would cringe at her own words, but somehow every ounce of shame was thrown out of the window now that she was around Lucas. “It really was your first date huh?” He smirked, cocking one brow. “Yeah yeah, now don’t go ‘bragging’ about it to the others, okay?” However Lucas just smirked again as he began making his way to the elevator. “No promises princess!” JiHo hushed him, but he was already inside the elevator, doors closing behind him. “Oh God, Doyoung, Yuta and Kun are all going to kill him.” She mumbled to herself walking into her apartment.

Just as the door closed behind her she heard her phone vibrate. And then vibrate again. Until it just became one constant buzz. Looking at her phone she saw the notifications of the NCT group chat along with the words ‘Lucas and JiHo’ as well as ‘date’ and ‘princess’. Shaking her head in disbelief and deciding to ignore the messages until tomorrow, JiHo mumbled to herself again. “At least if I don’t get to him and kill him first.”

---

Side Note: The only reason that this writing is called ‘King of Hearts’ is for me to tell you that you should listen to that song. Winwin’s vocals 👌 Yangyang’s last verse 👌 Hendery during that live performance of this song in Bangkok (he’s so hot and talented, please stan him)👌 How this song was literally made for Lucas 👌 Yes I’ve listened to it 10+ times on repeat one day and I’d gladly do it again!

Also someone tell me to stop posting every other day, why am I doing this to myself also me feeling writing/creative withdrawal when I don’t post😅 

Have a nice day/evening/night loves 🤍💚🤍

[yenafmd]

introducing: nam yena (again).

surprise bitches, i bet y’all thought you’d seen the last of me. but no, i have no shame or self restraint and have returned after barely one month after my dramatic leave, believe me, i’m tired of my own bullshit too. for everyone that is new and has not met met yet (good for y’all ngl) i’m jamie! i hail from gmt+2, go by she/her pronouns and am 22 years old and i’m your resident overly emotional pisces, as understated by... all of this. i had told myself i’d be out of famed a little while longer, aiming for like, early next year after my exams etc etc but then i said,,, sike,,, and came back now. so here we are. below the cut, i’ll leave a rundown of yena. not much has changed in a months time, she’s back in her wild party girl era but other than that, she’s the same old girl we all.... tolerate? as for now, you can find here BIOGRAPHY,  CONNECTIONS and PROFILE all up and running. if you wanna plot, do like this post, slide into my ims or hmu on d*sc*rd: winter gf goeun#5703 ! 

  triggers: emotionally abusive parenting, allusions to hypersexualisation, implied alcoholism

so basics first, nam yena, yenny, 26 year old, cis female, she/her

she’s the... everything of calypso

ok no she’s their maknae, lead vocal, lead dancer, lead rapper, i know it’s a lot bear w/ me

she grew up in incheon as the middle one out of 5 daughters (...and oh boy... can you tell... the middle child syndrome is REAL) in a very strict traditional household, dad was never home and always working, mom was micro-managing every aspect of their lives

yena kinda was always the odd one out, wasn’t particularly gifted academically, didn’t really pull off the soft nd prim nd proper thing her mother demanded of her

there was a lot of rivalry between the sisters, to be the best, to get whatever little attention their parents held over them as a price to be won, needless to say there wasn’t much support to be found there either

yena hit her teenage years and realized that obviously she wasn’t gonna find the attention and love she was looking for at home and that’s when she discovered External Validation and oh boy has she not been the same ever since

got street-scouted for dimensions for having a pretty face and then skipped school to attend the auditions she somehow bullshitted herself thru on absolutelty 0 training

parents were Big Mad when they found out lol but they were also kind of frustrated of dealing with their Bad Child so they just shipped her off to seoul so 1) it would be someone elses problem and 2) in the hopes that if it blew up in her face she’d finally realize they were like Right or whtvr

as a trainee yena was kind of shoved into everything, like dimensions’ silly lil guinea pig, she came in as a blank slate and while she didn’t turn out to be outstanding in Any field, she picked all of them up quite well so dimensions was like ok bet bestie 

didn’t debut w/ calypso initially cuz she was like too young and hadn’t trained enough yet

only sike she debuted half a year later anyway cuz calypso was kinda messy w all these members leaving and suddenly she was trained well enough ig???

(spoiler alert: she wasn’t, dimensions was just fumbling but whtvr)

kinda sucked in their early years ngl but made up for it w/ sheer enthusiasm cuz wow this was her dream even if their music kinda sucked or whtvr and she could hardly sing live without embarassing herself

but like stuff got better as she got more experience and she slowly grew into the bad bitch we all know and??? love ig???

calypso got sexier and yena shed the last of all the doctrination she had received at home only to tip to the entirely wrong end of the scale, suddenly she was a sexi party queen with a big mouth and a mild drinking problem

nam yena only works in extremes ok its either shy wallflower or absolutely insane i don’t make the rules

calypso hit like, their little relevancy peak in 2014 and after that she slowly got pushed into more solo work as well

if she alrdy did a fuckton of different things in calypso get ready for her solo work cuz dimensions was like, youre gonna do all the things, brand deals, acting, magazine shoots, variety

pretty privilege ig 

no but yena’s biggest skills as an idol mainly lay in how likeable she can appear on camera and how hot she is and dimensions heavily leaned into that

yena rlly loved all her lil side projects and esp rlly rlly fell in love with acting

still enjoyed being an idol too but after their like 5 seconds of fame w/ expectation and female president, calypso kinda fell off again and now, like, 7 years later, not much has looked up for them since

doesn’t like, actively want to disband but she is just, burned out ig? so she wouldn’t really mind it either? like switching to some acting label and going all in on that rather than just, having to tend to a pretty much dead music career

definitely favors her personal activities and ends up cutting corners on her efforts as a calypso member when she doesn’t have the headspace/energy to give all her responsibilities 100%

(dw, this whole dramatic arc will only last for three months on, when calypso has their chart reversal.... i will not be held responsible for the person yena will be... gosh she will be INSUFFERABLE)

uh tidbits on her personality:

yena is definitely like the problematic drunk aunt, offering her juniors cigarettes behind the dimensions building and teaching them how to avoid their managers and all that

very loud and very outspoken, the kind of big mouth that could get her in trouble if she wasn’t so good at hiding all of that on camera, in her personal life tho, she Will go off and she will throw hands bitch

definitely tips into like, jaded and wary territory at times when it comes to trusting ppl and their intentions but thats just a lot of family trauma and generally shitty experiences with mainly men as a highly sexualised idol

big everybody wants to date me nobody wants to love me energy, being highly desirable and praised for being pretty has kinda fucked w/ her head and her self-esteem, definitely leans into like vain and super-ficial territory at times because of it

notorious party girl, knows all the good places idols sneak off to to get fucked up, has shown up to work morbidly hungover multiple times but haha nothing problematic about any of that :))

bi queen but also seeking external validation queen and attachement issues queen, good luck to anyone who like l*ves her or whatever

again, kind of cuts corners as an idol from time to time, has had some subpar vocal moments, lazy dancing, obvious lipsyncing but nothing rlly big ever came from it cuz... ngl who cares rlly anyway?

fiercly protective friend though, will not stand for any bs on behalf of the people she cares ab, also enabling friend, if u tell her u killed someone she’ll be like 

material gworl, not all that ridiculously rich (tho her personal schedules definitely help in that aspect) but loves pretty shiny glittery things. very heavily into traditionally ‘femine’ things like make-up and fashion, again, tends to get a bit super-ficial but god damn it let her enjoy the things she likes and that make her feel good, they’re probably the least harmful of her hobbies

tends to jealous and competitive behaviors, very much rooted in her childhood

dang this all got v sad and shit but like haha at least she’s hot and she knows it!!! 

basically yena is a trainwreck but like a fun one with glittery eyeshadow and a nice ass so pls be her friend!!!

[gallavictorious]

26, 27, and 28 for the either/or ask meme please!

26. First proposal or brawl proposal?

The first proposal is very interesting and certainly includes some aaaaawmoments, but on a very shallow level their ugly as hell outfits ruin it a bit for me. (Thank heavens they decide to go home and get changed before heading out to do the deed – excellent choice, boys, and glad to see you're taking this seriously!)

On a deeper level, Ian's (very well-intentioned!) dishonesty messes a bit with my appreciation of it as a romanticmoment, even though it makes for intriguing drama and excellet meta opportunities. Don't get me wrong, Ian is absolutely truthful about loving Mickey – that's why he wants to protect him and that's why marriage is even a consideration – but it does come up on this day because he wants to keep Mickey out of prison, and he should have been upfront about that. Given how he presents it, it's no wonder Mickey reacts that way he does when Ian pulls out (which doesn't excuse punching Ian in the face).

So like... I do love the first proposal because I think it sets up a conflict that's seems to me entirely realistic and firmly rooted in their past, but for triumphant romance I still prefer the brawl proposal. It's messy, it's a bit silly, and I love my Gallavich somewhat chaotic, so yeah. It's also Ian making an effort to speak Mickey's language by making a grand gesture in front of a bunch of people, which is all kinds of lovely. Also, they look som much better here than at Patsy's! ;) ”This Life” is an instant mood booster for me these days!

It does lose some small points by not lingering on the kiss. That's not justme being a thirsty old woman, by the way, that's me being a slut for well-executed paralells and well.

Sidenote: for someone who's very concerned about breaking parole in season 11, Ian is pretty quick to violently assault (mostly) innocent people. Kettle not looking all that black right now, eh, Mr. Gallagher?

---

27. “Can I go in with him”-hug or “You're gonna be a great dad”-hug?

Argh. What sort of twisted mind came up with this impossible choice? See, I think the hug of 5x06 is actually superior in every way – it's more emotional, it's beautifully shot, the boys cling to each other as if drowning and it's just a damn good hug all around. Ian accepts the hugs at the police station, from his siblings and from Mick, but this one he (no pun intended) embraces and leans into. He takes the comfort (and forgiveness). And it's not just Mickey comforting Ian, but Mickey seeking comfort in Ian, because he can't let Ian walk away without holding him, without making sure he's there, and without making sure that Ian knows that Mickey loves him.

I mean, it's perfect.

And yet. AND YET. Ian hugging Mickey and comforting Mickey just does something to me, you know? I have no defense against it. Mickey has got like maybe half a percent of the hugs he's ought to have had in his life, so. Yeah. He needs more hugs. (And fine, not everyone likes or wants hugs, but I am convinced that Mickey does, he's just not been getting them and then there's been issues with being seen as soft and whatever.)

Oh dear, I forgot to actually choose, didn't that? Well, that's embarassing.

---

28. Border kiss or city hall kiss?

The border kiss is their prettiest kiss and there is so much love there. With the exception of their very first one, the other kisses we've seen before this are heavily tinged with lust and hunger (fueled by their feelings for one another, sure, but still pretty damned sexual in nature) but this... this is just love. It's farewell for ever and sharing one last kiss and trying to just be in that moment and enjoy each second of it even as they commit every single detail to memory because this will have to sustain them a lifetime now. There's resignation and there's regret but mostly there's just accepting their love and everything it means and all the way it hurts, because – even now – the joy of it is greater than the loss.

I love the border kiss. But it's so fucking sad and it breaks me even though I know that in less than two years Ian will stare in utter disbelief and awe at his beloved once more. So sorry, beautiful border kiss, it's the city hall kiss for me.

There's something to be said for casual affection, yeah? Ian's whole demeanor here... he's nervous and his solution to that, his way of grounding and reassuring himself, is to lean in and kiss Mickey. Because maybe he's not sure about marriage – and in just a little while that (perfectly understandable) uncertainty will cause all sorts of trouble – but he knows that he loves Mickey; that being with him makes him happy and feel safe. Then there's the look on Mickey's face; he's a little surprised but so pleased and so in love and zero percent uncomfortable by being kissed in public. I don't know. To me this is a moment where it's very clear that they don't just love each other, they like each other and are each other's comfort and joy. Hearteyes, motherfucker.

---

Since it was you asking I feel especially not bad about nattering on like a loon. (Not because you natter on like a loon - you are always highly succint and eloquent and the envy of Kees everywhere! - but because I know you won't mind. <3) Thank you for ask, dear one!

Gallavich 'Either Or' Ask Meme

[xgoldxnhour]

26 days. The wind feels far too quiet for the storm that resides within her lungs. Meetings and investigations fall silent as all they carry are their condolences. Everything is being worked in the background—she’s told. Roan le Roux is missing.

Her phone lights again, either another pity party or it’s the detective with another update of misguided optimism ultimately stating that an investigation of running in circles. At first she came to clean up the mess after law enforcement returned what couldn’t be seen as evidence. Apparently the job description never heard of the rule of leave it how you left it. Also seems like no one has followed that rule since preschool. It’s a full day of organizing as El sits on the floor surrounded by papers and things left and unused. If they knew anything, they’d know that her father was rarely home to call it such. Work. Travel. Hotels. Hell, sometimes he’d crash on her couch because it’s closer to the airport as he has eight hours before his next flight.

And here, she sits amidst pieces of a puzzle she can’t quite see the picture clearly. He lived modestly, a sweet house that also stood as her home of two years before college. The house was a museum, filled with photos on the wall of milestones and old whims of the past. His platoon that far more like family that his own left back home. Her mother, whom she’s a ringer of apparently. An image she never saw past the eyes of an eight year old. He ran away to be with her and they nestled their lives all over the continent. As someone who claimed he would never settle down, Gwendolyn was the greatest opportunity and choice in his lifetime. Even with such little time.

Her gaze falls on one that she hadn’t seen in years. Her mother sits on the beach in a color that could only fit her with and those small oval sunglasses. In her arms sits two identical toddlers—El and her brother, Jesse, when they’re not even two years old. The blonde children dawn bucket hats and strips of sun screen. Jesse is giggling at the seams and El sits with her tongue out and heart shaped sunglasses.

Her phone lights up again, revealing another photo on her screen. It’s uncannily the same boy from the photos on the wall, just taller and managed to grow some hair on his face. His face is a silly one with sun rays cascading down the corner, almost obscuring his face. Jesse’s calling.

“Hey, I have a question for you?” She asks the moment she accepts the call.

“Yeah?”

“Would we still be considered orphans even if we’re well past the age where they can throw us into a home.”

He’s quiet for a second, understanding that this is just her version of coping. She never was one who dealt with loss easily. Even gave their childhood dead fish a funeral.

“Don’t think there’s an age limit on that one, kid. Even if you exceed the bar, you’re still tall enough to ride.”

She smirks—weak and barely air piercing through her nose but present nonetheless. Tossing a straggling chess piece back on the floor, El silently nods.

“Where are you?”

“Where do you think I am?”

“You’re not gonna find anything that they haven’t already found.”

“Yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up their fucking messes.”

“Look—“ Jesse pauses. “—I was thinking…maybe you should come out here for awhile. Get your mind off the whole thing. I’ll buy the ticket, I won’t let that be your excuse…and we can take a vacation. Head to the beach and camp out for a few days. Think…think it would be good for you. Getchu outta that rain.” It’s not just the London weather he’s referring to.

“Uh, lemme…lemme think about it—okay? Maybe.”

He’s quiet. Suppose that’s all he can ask for.

“Okay. Lemme know and I’ll buy the ticket. Any day of the week. Month. Whatever. You pick.”

“Okay—thanks…J—uh, I—I gotta go. Love you.”

She cleans for a few more hours, making quite the dent. A few things seemed untouched like the safe he keeps hidden. Though El has tired herself for the night and decided that finishing up will be tomorrow El’s problem.

The bedroom hasn’t changed much since she moved out all those years ago. Suppose you don’t need a guest room with no guests. Though she passes her old abode and goes straight into his room. Somehow this was one they barely touched. Slowly, El drags herself onto the bed and lays on top of the covers. There, she curls and the tears she’s been holding all day begin to well.

@postscriptumafortiori