#being always alone is not that nice and freeing like most coupled people think

[iysics]

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[vifilms]

tattoo artist!vi who takes notice of just how beautiful you are the moment you step foot in her shop. it’d be the most difficult task in the world to not notice just how insanely breathtaking you are. it’s clear by the smirk on your glossy lips. you know just how good you look. caitlyn, being the woman she is, tries to jump in first. you’re just her type. violet would know, cait’s dated the anti-thesis of her since the moment you broke up. caitlyn kiramman loves pretty girls. anything she can do to be underneath them, she’ll find a way. you fit her bill. violet tried not to take offense of the ways your eyes light up taking to her ex-girlfriend. maybe you’re just nice. that’s it, right? two minutes, someone who is almost as gorgeous as you walks in and then violet forgets about you as her next client walks in. she tries to at least.

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t stop thinking about you. it’s new york. there’s plenty of pretty girls she can drown herself in. well, if she could figure out how to ask someone out without her crippling anxiety suffocating her. she knows she’s somewhat attractive but her lack of knowing how to efficiently communicate it without sound like the weirdest fuck who has ever lived gets lost in translation. she doesn’t like how sure cait is of herself when she talks about you though. violet doesn’t even know you but seeing the glint in those aquatic-blue eyes make her want to punch something. it’s hard to even tell if it due to her budding crush or that it’s her ex. probably both but she ignores it.

tattoo artist!vi who likes to frequent bars on her days off. it’s when she doesn’t feel alone. it’s fun to bug her sister, powder. she’s always been more of a free spirit out of the two of them. an artist, a wanderer, someone who choses to bartend a couple nights out of the week just because she liked meeting new people, learning their story, what makes them tick. are they a mean drunk, happy, or will they burst into tears when you ask them how they’re doing? vi isn’t either really. she’s quiet, calm even, but tonight part of her wants to cry. she feels lonely, lost, and even a little bit upset caitlyn is your first choice. she only knows your name because of the clientele list and that just feels pathetic. violet’s never been the smoothest of talkers, she knows that more than she feels the blood coursing through her veins. she isn’t the girl and she’s perfectly fine with it. perfectly. fine.

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t even enjoy work anymore. three months in and you’ve been cait’s girlfriend and the feeling only gets worse. it’s cliché. a little fucked, but being in love with her ex’s girlfriend? it doesn’t get any lower than this. she let it slip days ago, only to powder, thank fucking god. if violet knew one thing, she didn’t wanna deal with caitlyn’s wrath. according to maddie, she’d been a dog with a bone when it came to you. so protective it nearly turned into possession. she wanted everyone to know that you were hers and not anyone else’s. it wasn’t new to violet, cait didn’t like being runner up to anyone. it’s why their relationship ended in the first place, especially when the girlfriend feels inferior to the sister. when powder comes around to the shop, cait can’t help but wear her disgust all over her face like a poorly concealed mask. vi thinks it’s silly. the both of them are nearly the same it’s almost sickening. if only the other took the time to know the object of their disdain, they would see two peas sitting in a pod.

tattoo artist!vi who hates a messy shop. when personal items are left behind or someone’s station isn’t properly sanitized and clean. it’s why she’s here, alone on the sunday, the only day the shop is closed. it’s been too long since she did a deep clean, just a week or too, but that’s long enough for her. she’s always been proud of what she’s been able to accomplish her. even if she didn’t have much, a girlfriend to love on, or if her father was on the other side of the country, she had this. violet ink. it was her name out on the sign over seeing the street, the luminous violet led lights kissing the downtown street. she made it this far and she couldn’t let anyone run her off from something she fought so hard to build from the ground up. it’s why she was surprised when she saw you. your face free of makeup, your hair in it’s natural state, and you appeared more laid back than you ever were — in her shop. it feels like a fever dream she never wishes to wake up from. cait must have given you a spare key to the shop which she would have a discussion with her about that later because what the fuck? but it’s hard for her to stay mad when you’re standing there looking like a million bucks in the most casual pair of sweats she’s ever seen. it feels different to who you usually are. shredded of the image you maintain, stripped back, there’s just a softer version of yourself and vi can’t help but contemplate if this is the side you’re so reluctant to show.

tattoo artist!vi who stutter how some stupid joke, trying to break the ice and it should have made things more awkward than they already were but your laugh full of symphonies just makes violet smile. in her best efforts, she craves to conceal it from you but it’s impossible when you’re looking at her. she can’t help but smile — so she does. desperately, violet tries not to act nervous when you’re looking at her designs on the wall, not saying a word, just inspecting. there’s a chill in her bones she feels, a need for her work to be loved because if it isn’t? it eats her up from the inside out. maybe it’s embarrassing but she needs her work to be loved. what’s the point if it isn’t? it’s always been an extension of her soul, her life, and if someone doesn’t like it? all they say is they don’t like her. it may be the silliest thing in the world, but she needs to be adored. from a complete stranger, from the people who she’s permanently tattooing, and especially from the beautiful women violet can’t stop daydreaming about.

tattoo artist!vi who blushes when you tell her how much you love her designs. there’s a soft touch to her shoulder, your thumb lightly tracing circles in her sturdy bicep. it feel innocent enough but vi doesn’t give herself much time to think about it. painfully, she takes note in how your eyes soar when they make contact with her designs. even if it makes her cocky, violet knows she’s good at her job. clients flying in from all over the country, just to get tattooed by her. with your undeniable charm, you’ve convinced her to do a custom design for you but you wanna discuss it on sunday’s, alone. if anything, she should know this isn’t a good idea. you’re charming, gorgeous and the prettiest thing she’s ever seen. she should be afraid of caitlyn’s wrath, of what would happen if she found out, but it’s innocent…right? she’s a professional. no matter how much she’s attracted to a client, it’s never been an issues and she certainly won’t make it one now. vi nods and the second she does, you’re leaping in her arms, into her space. you smell of lavender and lilies, like spring in the beginning of march. a sun-kissed marvel aching for the shine of summer, for one breath of fresh air. it’s really all she wants, a moment to be in the sunshine with you, if only for a moment at least she could tell the moon about it. her best kept secret and she would cherish every bit of it. 

tattoo artist!vi who tries to keep her head down low as the weeks carry on. even when you try to make more of an effort to speak with her, the last thing she needs is caitlyn to take one final look at her and realize just how much she likes the attention. maddie already made one comment, even if it was light-hearted — it’s enough to keep her on edge. with the design being complete, all she needs is to tattoo but violet’s been avoiding you and what’s worse? you knew it too. in her true avoidant style, violet failed to go to the shop the last two weeks on sunday. the tidiness and damn right organization of her shop was suffering but she still had plans of avoiding it. rather avoiding you, but in her forest fire of a mind, it comes all the same. all of this is so trivial, so stupid, so tragic. it’s kiramman’s day off and violet and sevika are the only artists on hand today which means she’s overworked. the both of them are tired and violet just completed her last session of the day. she sneaks to the back enjoying the cigarette she’d been itching to have. violet’s on her second one when you corner her into the brick wall she’s leaning on. you’re too close. dangerously close, almost as if the fire you’ve created in violet’s lungs might cause her to burn from the inside out. it’s chilling how silent you are until you aren’t. you’re loud about the way you caress her exposed biceps, tracing the lines of her intricate tattoo as it crawls up shoulders and so do your hands. with a sharp graze, you scrap your nails across her skin as if you want to leave a reminder that she was in fact here. should she even even be here? letting you touch her in the way you are? but it’s not like vi has much of a choice when you push the hem of her tank top up to her ribcage, showcasing the flexing abs on her abdomen. it may be faint but there’s a happy trail, one violet wants to see your lips on but she’s scared to say anything, to move, to breathe. “caitlyn said you were ripped underneath. i wanted to see for myself.” then your touch is gone and you are with it. 

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t show up on sunday…for the first couple of hours. violet thinks of that night, the way you touched her, like you knew exactly what to do before she even could think of what she wanted next. how on earth did you manage to paralyze her with a mere flick of your wrist? when your nails clawed at her toned abdomen, violet felt the stickiness in her boxers and you’d done all of nothing. she had to put an end to things, the private session, violet couldn’t do it. she didn’t want to be caught in some weird and perversed love triangle with her ex. in the back of her throat, violet feels the lump she constantly has to swallow. the only reasonable explanation is that this, you, is all some weird fantasy of caitlyn to get the last laugh. to fully degrade her in a way she couldn’t, not when you’re the person who gets broken up with. it’s not a secret caitlyn’s ego had taken a hit. to anyone, not being the first choice stings but to cait? it might as well be a death sentence and certainly it wouldn’t stand. 

tattoo artist!vi who isn’t one for confrontation but in the need to savor some of her salvation in her dignity, she walks in the shop. you’re still waiting for her. two hours later, you’d hoped she’d show. ”violet, you came.” it’s endearing but violet also sees herself the night before tangled in her black sheets, vibrator on its highest setting as she applies pressure to her clit, fingers nestled so deep inside her cunt as she hears your voice, thinks about your irresistible lips. violet wonders what you sound like when you come and suddenly the thought sends her hurling towards the edge. the smile you offer is almost like you can see right through her, like you know vi came to the idea of you just the night before. 

with a slender smile, you make your way over to her and suddenly the internal dialogue she created to put an end to this arrangement died on your tongue when she shrugs vi’s leather jacket off. she’s only wearing her wrap to cover her chest, not intending on staying for a long time. definitely not enough to finish the beautiful design she created for you. she’d get cait to do it. their styles were similar to it. your girlfriend has to do this. but you’re touching her bare skin. vi is losing focus as she feels the control slip into your greedy fingers. 

“i know what you’re gonna say.” 

“and what’s that?” 

“you wanna stop this, meeting me here, you feel like you’re betraying someone you love and you have too much integrity to keep seeing someone you so obviously want to fuck.” 

“i can’t—” but the words die on violet’s tongue. 

“sense won’t get to you, that’s something caitlyn didn’t understand. you think with your heart of gold. when it drips for someone, you’d let it bleed out if it meant you were saving someone.” you take a pause, slipping off your shirt as your pierced nipples are exposed. violet nearly begins to drool, her eyes unable to look away from your perfect nipples, the swell of your breast how perfectly they fall on your chest, she’s nearly salivating to be offered a taste. “my girlfriend doesn’t understand you’ve found someone else to be loyal to.” 

“this is not, um, i didn’t—” 

sweetly, you kiss her cheek. “it’s such a bitch isn’t it? your heart wants whatever the fuck it yearns for, no damn mercy on who it hurts.”  

violet can only think of how much she wants to be suffocated by your tits, forever trapped in this venus fly trap you’ve caused her to succumb to. with her best foot forward, she wants to tell you to go to hell, that you’re wrong about her — she would never do something like this — until she does. it’s all tongue and teeth, vitriol and lust spills into her mouth as violet pushes you on the bench, ripping your skirt to shreds with her bare hands. only to find nothing underneath. 

bent over the table, ass up in the air, violet wastes not a single moment and stuffs her face in your fat ass. with a gratifying need, she splits your folds on her tongue as she slaps your ass making you whimper and cry out for her name. it’s beautiful, violet thinks. someone needing her to bring them to the edge, and god, you aren’t shy about it either. never has she heard anyone be so loud and proud about sex. so goddamn confident in each moan you let fall from pornogrpahic lips, it’s damn invigorating. the first one comes easily, you spill over vi’s tongue as she moans back into your weeping pussy, liquid gushing over her face violet never wants it to end. the second time violet fucks you with her fingers, stuffing and fucking until there isn’t any part of you that isn’t undeniably shaking. the third time, you’re on top of her, the two of you finding comfortablity on the cot in the break room as violet lets you fuck her. 

exactly what she expects it to be; hot, rough, fast. slippery pussy rubbing against hers until you collapse on top of her, breast pressed against her binded ones. you have a feeling they are there for a reason and you don’t push, for once in your life, you let yourself succumb to sleep as you fall asleep in her arms. 

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t see you for three months after she had the best sex of her life. even if it does sting, vi knows it’s for the best. six months in and you’re still with caitlyn despite your best efforts. surprising everyone, but violet for different reasons, you admit your slip up to cait but she forgives you. maddie and sevika make a game of it, trying to guess who make you cheat and when violet’s name comes up jokingly, caitlyn’s words leave an unsettling pit in her stomach. 

c’mon, what is violet going to do? look at her. she’s as loyal as a trained dog and i have you trained. don’t i, cupcake? 

tattoo artist!vi who focuses on her work, like a trained dog, she falls back into her routine. sunday’s aren’t as pleasurable as they were with you, or one sunday she should say, but she dismisses the thought altogether. pushing it to the deepest parts of her mind becomes the only viable option. she uses other forms of entertainment to get her mind off of you. powder thinks it’s a good idea to be here but she refuses to step foot in here with her. this is where my path ends, sis. i’ll be just up the hill when you’re ready. a not so subtle wink has her cringing and flipping her off blue-haired braided sister off in the process. this is such a good stupid idea but violet doesn’t manage to convince herself out of this situation she’s conducted for herself. anyways, it’s one night? no one ever has to know. from the moment she steps into the strip club, she knows she never should have been here. she keeps to the bar as she changes songs from the jukebox a few times. this has never been her scene nor will it ever. as she finishes off her class of neat whiskey, the familiar voice whispers into her ear, never thought you’d be here but i guess we’re both full of surprises.

[highvern]

Nights Like These

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: fluff, neighbor!au, Nightwing! mingyu based off this, bartender reader

warnings: very dumb people (mingyu x reader), suggestive but no explicit smut

Length: ~2k

Note: merry gyumas!!!!! this is revenge for spider woo from @gyuswhore if you hate it, it's bc i wrote it in like 3 hours. thank u @the-boy-meets-evil i will be enacting my revenge on you soon. MWAH!

summary: On nights when you close the bar late, a friendly hero always happens to be around to walk you home and share his woes about the crush on his neighbor.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

With the rain pounding down in thick sheets, you rush home. On nights like these, when you're the last one out of the bar, completely alone, are always the worst. The bus doesn’t run this late but at least you’re only a few blocks from your apartment. A ten minute run if you don’t stop.

The rain abruptly halts. Not that you’re lucky enough for the storm to pass but because someone falls into step beside you. “Need an umbrella?”

You don’t even need to look to know who it is. He always shows up when you have the closing shift. The man who runs around the city in a spandex suit and calls himself Nightwing. 

The first time, some creep had been trailing you from a distance. Thankfully, most of the businesses on the way back to your apartment stayed open later, the nice apartments have doormen so you could run into one at a moment's notice. But as soon as you noticed the weight of a gaze on your back it vanished with a short scuffle. When you turned to find the source of noise, Nightwing stood guard as the creep spirited away.

From that night on, if you got off after midnight, he was there to escort you home. 

The first few times he followed from a distance. A couple yards, then ten feet and then one night you waited for him to walk beside you like a normal person. Most nights you were too exhausted to make conversation but he kept you both entertained, asking easy questions or staying silent if you were particularly irritated. But usually, on those nights you felt his eyes on you from one of the alleys you passed, or from the rooftops. He gave you space but kept you safe. Even when you insisted there were far better things for him to do in a city that never sleeped. People who needed him more. But Nightwing shook you off each time.

“This storm came out of nowhere,” you say, huddling closer. He’s big, taking up most of the space by default. You try not to touch him but the heat of his body is pleasant considering your soaked clothes, chilled straight to the bone.

“Yeah, downtown is already flooded.”

“Already walked all the other girls home there?”

“Ha-ha,” he huffs. “I actually work in an office there.”

Oh. In all the nights he’s chaperoned you home, he’s been careful not to reveal too much about himself but some things naturally slip out. He wants a dog but is never home enough to take care of it. One of his friends burnt a fish in his apartment and wasn’t allowed to come back. He tried reading some of the books you talked about but wasn’t a big reader. This is the first time he’s offered information so personal.

“So even superheroes have day jobs?”

“Gotta pay rent somehow.”

“Maybe take up being a security guard. Or Uber but walking women home late at night.”

“Nah,” he smiles, a flash of white teeth between pink lips. “I do that for free. Part of the job.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Sometimes you think maybe he likes walking with you. But as he said, it’s a part of his job. His civic responsibilities to protect the street from creeps and weirdos. Besides, the only other personal information you know about him is the fat crush he has on the girl in the apartment next to him.

“How's your neighbor?” you ask.

“She’s okay. Still acts like I don’t exist.”

“I doubt that’s true.”

“You said she’d like it if I gave her something I cooked, I did.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

“Damn.”

You think of your own neighbor and how grateful you are that he does something similar. Mingyu was overall, a great neighbor. Grabbed your packages from the mailroom and left them on your doormat when he could, shared food if he made too much which was frequently, and managed to keep his rowdy friends quiet when they were over. But you typically only spoke to him in passing. Strictly neighborly. How are you? They didn’t pick up the trash today? Can I borrow some salt? By the way, I made an entire pot of spaghetti and I cannot eat it alone. Want some?

Recently he offered more and more. A blessing really because by the time you got off work you were too exhausted to cook and too broke to justify paying for the fees for delivery. Everytime he offered you food though you weren’t sure what to do with the tupperware. He was rarely home when you were; conflicting schedules. Last time he brought you the extra brownies from his office party. The tote bag full of clean containers sat next to your door for whenever you saw him but lately he’d been MIA. 

Maybe Nightwing’s neighbor felt the same way. If he had a job and ran around town at all hours it was unlikely there was a good time for them to talk.

“Have you tried asking her out?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Your shoulder brushes his arm but you ignore the contact. Not like you can feel much with the numbness from the freezing rain.

“No luck.”

“Maybe she’s shy.”

He levels you with a look meaning that clearly isn’t the problem. For a second you wonder what he looks like without the mask. The tiny scrap of blue, black, and white obscuring so much. Obviously, he’s handsome. Maybe she’s a little intimidated. You would be. Even if his neighbor didn’t know who he really was, he had an aura around him. 

And even if he wore baggy clothes, they wouldn’t hide his physique or height.

But you can’t dwell on those thoughts because then you think of your neighbor who is also tall and muscular, and somehow reminds you of a golden retriever.

“Well, you seem normal enough. Even though you wear a weird amount of spandex for a grown man.”

He laughs, the edges of the umbrella shaking with him and exposing you back to the elements but you don’t mind. The sound is rich and warm, forcing the chill away. “What is a normal amount of spandex?”

“Probably zero,” you joke. “Maybe you should just ask her out. Honesty is the best policy or whatever.”

“Or whatever. I’ll remember that.”

“Well,” you sigh. The front of your apartment is in view. Nightwing will wait until you’re inside to leave, tucked safely behind the glass door and up the stairs out of sight. He hands you the umbrella for the last fifteen feet he always refuses to accompany you, and disappears out of sight.

You don’t tell anyone who walks you home at night. It’s a nice little secret between you and the city’s hero. But sometimes you wished you could. If only to explain how confusing it is that Nightwing reminds you of Mingyu. A bizarre thought. Mingyu is an architect and hardly has the time for a pet, let alone to save the city every night. You leave the thought at the threshold of the stairwell.

The trek upstairs takes longer than you’d like. Five flights of stairs down is a lot easier than five flights up and with your limbs just now warming up, it's a process to rally enough energy to climb even the first few. Good thing is with it being so late, you aren’t at risk of holding up a line to the top. 

By the time you reach the third floor, the sensation returns to your extremities. By the fifth, the only thought in your head is a shower and the cozy warmth of your bed. 

As you reach the final steps, shuffling like a zombie, the universe decides your night isn’t over yet.

Your neighbor, hair washed from a shower, white shirt and pajama pants wrapped around his figure, emerges from the opposite staircase, where the trash chute is. Maybe you have a crush on Mingyu but half the building does too. He’s a good neighbor, he’s nice, and he’s handsome. 

Okay, maybe it’s a big crush and you can’t figure out if he’s just nice or if all the nice things he does mean a little bit more. You should probably ask Nightwing what he thinks the next time he walks you home. He’s a guy, he’d know.

But right now, Mingyu gets to see your best impression of a drowned rat.

Lovely.

“Hey,” he says. His door is at the top of the stairs you just climbed, and yours at the top of the stairs he just climbed. When you pass by, you can’t help but get a whiff of his body wash. Cedar, citrus, and soap mingling pleasantly. 

You grunt in response. “Hey, Mingyu.”

“Late night?”

“Something like that.”

You both stand in the hallway, waiting for something else to say but nothing comes up. Somewhere below a door slams and the patter of feet echoes through the stairwell.

Mingyu turns away first. “Well, good night.”

“Wait!” you call, cringing at the harsh reverb of your voice.

He whips around, eyes wide, cheeks rosy. Like a little kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar.

“I have your containers! I’ve been meaning to give them back.”

“Oh.” He deflates slightly but you pay no mind. 

You shove the metal of your apartment door open and rummage through your kitchen for the tote full of plastic containers. When you exit, Mingyu is waiting on your doormat, hands in his pockets.

Racking your brain for something – anything – to say, you blurt. “Um, the brownies you made were great.”

That pleases him. Behind the thick rim of his glasses his eyes soften, cheeks lifting from a shy smile. “Thanks. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

“That’s nice.”

Neither of you move. Content rather than awkward. At your back, the rain pounds against the windows, thunder clapping, an occasional streak of lighting. A dull lullaby.

“Hey,” he starts. “Would you ever wanna hangout? Like a date?”

You couldn’t have heard that right. 

“A date?” you parrot.

“Or not! It doesn’t have to be a date if you’re not interested or…”

“A date sounds nice,” you grin, cheeks bursting. “What are you doing in thirty minutes?”

“Watching Survivor.”

“I’ll bring the popcorn. I just need to shower really quick.”

Mingyu blinks like he can’t believe any of it. Like you agreeing to hangout with him was never an actual option or that this entire thing is a fever dream. It’s cute. 

“Ugh—” he swallows. “Yeah! Okay. Just…knock wherever!”

Tucked away in the steam of the shower, you scrub and shave and scrub again. Feeling a little more human with each minute. You don’t bother with make up or anything fancy. Mingyu asked you out with mascara running down your cheeks in the hideous shirt the bar makes you wear. The bar is incredibly low. 

Settling on some sweats and a hoodie, you make the trip down the hall to 6F and knock just like Mingyu said. You sit a safe distance away on the couch but like two magnets you and Mingyu draw closer and closer until his arm is over your shoulder with a pretend stretch and you’re nodding off against his chest.

At some point, you both move to his bed. Or Mingyu asks and carries you across his apartment when you nod. His bed sounds like a great idea. The storm clears by the time you wake up. The first thing you do when Mingyu blinks awake, arm curled around your back like you considered leaving, is leave a gentle kiss on his jaw. 

You give him a better one as a thank you for coffee, and another when he makes pancakes. He lifts you onto the counter, taking place between your knees as thanks for the perfect whip cream smiley face decorating said pancakes. 

Next time you see your spandex clad friend, you’ll have to let him know honesty really is the best policy.

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[burntb4bydoll]

It's my first time requesting something on here, I am CRAVING for any Tokio Hotel member with a kind/sweet/obedient reader, I usually can't find stories/headcanons with them where the reader is a sweet and obedient girl, feel free to ignore this request if you want to.

Bae this is so me fr (for the most part😇)

Tokio Hotel with a sweet and obedient gf (slightly NSFW)

Bill Kaulitz

•hes completely infatuated with you. you could do anything you wanted to him and he would let you.

•he thinks that you are an absolute angel. He loves how sweet you are, it makes him so proud to be your bf

•would NEVER let people take advantage of you or your kindness. You don’t like disappointing people by saying ‘no’ but he has absolutely no problem doing it for you

• “sweetheart, you can’t do everything people ask you to. You are too sweet for your own good sometimes I swear.”

•he means that in a endearing way dw! He wouldn’t change a single thing about you

•he tries to test your obedience tbh. He’ll tell you to do something small then slowly start telling you to do more, but you never disobey him. And he makes sure to praise you very well for it

• “oh my, what a good girl. You listen so well, angel. Im so proud of you.”

•definitely is more of a soft dom with you, he can’t imagine being mean to his sweet girl🤭

Tom Kaulitz

•oh boy…

•you two are opposites. He’ll try to get you to do and say bad/mean things just to see if youll actually do it

•your hesitant because you dont wanna be mean, but you obey him and he immediately cant help but smirk to himself

•Bill always scolds him for it tho, you can’t escape mama Bill.

“Tom, Leave her alone! Y/n don’t listen to him, hes an idiot.” 😭

•he thinks its so cute watching you interact with his family. You’re just so sweet and they all love you so much. Hes so happy that they love you just as much as he does

•HIS MOM LOVES YOU. SHE TAKES SO MANY PICTURES OF YOU AND TOM AND SHOWS THEM TO EVERYONE. SHE CALLS YOU HER DAUGHTER TOO😭💗

•not to be a whore….but CORRUPTION KINK?? HELLO???

•LOVES pet names. He calls you princess, sweetheart, my love🤭🤭

Georg Listing

•LORD he is obsessed with you omfg

•you are absolutely everything to him. You’re his precious girl who could never EVER do anything wrong in his eyes

•literally refers to you as his ‘lovely girlfriend’ to people 😭

•his heart almost explodes whenever you do anything for him. Whether that be cooking him food, drawing/coloring a picture for him, or just giving him a small compliment, he’ll always be so so appreciative of it

•HES SO SOFT WITH YOU. He kisses youholds your face so gently while stroking your cheeks with his thumbs:(((

• “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? I love you so much, my sweet girl.”

Gustav Schäfer

•hes also such a sweetheart, but he likes to pretend like hes all mean and unapproachable😭

•like babe, you are probably the cutest person here you’re not fooling anyone.

•you two are known for being the super lovey couple. He loves to show you off and you’re just happy to be there😇

•although you’re both sweet, you’re the only obedient one in the relationship. He such a brat and LOVES to push peoples buttons just to see how far he can go before someone actually gets mad😭

•BLUSHES SO SO HARD WHEN YOU COMPLIMENT HIM

•you guys are the embodiment of a praise kink. Neither of you can go 5 minutes without being and all nice and lovey dovey to each other

•dare i say….pleasure Dom Gustav…. GUYS IK I SAY IT ALL THE TIME BUT PLS YOU KNOW ITS TRUE

• “such a good girl for me, arent you?”

“Aww, you’re so cute, my baby.” Yes. HIS baby.😇

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: The President’s Son

From: Guardian Angel Series

Pairing: (future) Mafia! Stucky x Bodyguard! Reader

Summary: A longtime client snubs you, causing you to leave the life you know

Word Count: 3,629

Content/Warnings: swears, patriarchy, weaponized incompetence, borderline mansplaining, yelling, fighting, mentions of nose picking, misogyny, secrets, explosions, mentions of weapons, strong female characters, no Steve or Bucky yet

A/N: Okay, here’s the start of something long-anticipated by me. I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is greatly appreciated, can’t wait to hear what you guys think!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next >

You stood in the back of the banquet hall, eyes surveying the room like they did any other, as you tried to appear as nonchalant waitstaff for the function. That was your specialty: blending in to the background, and you were damn good at it. Tonight’s job was to do so as your were protecting the most important individuals entrusted to you: the First Lady and her son.

You moved with ease throughout the evening, keeping mobile with your head on a swivel, eyes never leaving your two clients for more than a couple seconds. After a cocktail hour, everyone had sat down for dinner and a round of awards and speeches, leaving you here for a relatively easy period.

You didn’t work alone, no. You were here as part of a group. Part of a company, actually, and it belonged to your father. He ran a security conglomerate which focused heavily on government contracting, ranging from secret service duties, to vehicle brigades, to protection and procurement of goods, virtual and physical, and you knew every single part of it. You loved your job, and you loved working with your dad. For as long as you could remember, you would spend all of your free time in his office with him as he went through schedules, and escape plans, and all sorts of strategies to keep his patrons and their assets safe. You were always flitting around, learning new things, earning you the nickname ‘tweety bird’ from him, which correlated to your codename Redwing.

You’d picked it all up so easily, you were a natural, which earned you your first presidential-adjacent gig much younger than anyone else around. Sure, it started as you going to school and posing as another student to protect the president’s son, even thought you were a few years out already, which wasn���t necessarily glamorous, since you were meant to fly under the radar, but it was an independent job. One that was coming to a close, though, as this was your eighth year of doing the same. Soon, the president would be out of office, and the security detail on his family would be greatly reduced, likely no longer requiring your services.

Even as you let your mind wander, blocking out the droning speeches and rich people backstories, you remained on high alert. If anything bad was going to happen, you had a feeling it would be at an event like this one. An event where everyone had their guard down because it was for a universally agreeable good cause. But for some reason, heading into it tonight, something was churning in your gut.

After not being able to ignore the way your stomach twisted and turned, you had gone to speak to your father about tonight, requesting backup in addition to your other two friends, Natasha and Daisy, who often accompanied you to guard shifts associated with larger crowds.

Usually he was on the same page as you, but lately, your requests had been met with more protest, likely due to your little brother’s input buzzing in your father’s ear.

Your brother, Dylan, had just freshly turned eighteen, and with it came more responsibility in the agency. For being so much younger than you, your father was giving him mountains of control, including this event of your two most important clients. With your request of a team came the the caveat that your brother would be leading it.

Dylan was, to put it nicely, an oaf? Incapable of performing a task without crashing and burning, which made your blood boil. Probably from the fires he created and you subsequently had to put out. You had no room to complain, though, as your father dismissed you from his office.

So Dylan ‘led’ your team this evening, packed with his twerp friends who were more capable, but just as reckless as him. They’d listen to some of your orders, but not without the confirmation of your brother, who knew better enough sometimes to listen to your input.

You let him think he was in the lead tonight, executing a plan you had essentially spoon fed to him in your meetings leading up to the event. There were several backup plans and exit strategies that had their own code names, made by you, of course. All Dylan, or ‘The Chief,’ as he liked to go as over coms, had to do was keep an eye out on the cameras for any suspicious activity around the venue, and be prepared to drive away if he called for extraction due to suspicious activity. That was it. You and your two trusty companions would take control of everything inside the banquet, while two of Dylan’s friends surveilled the outside. Should be easy, right?

Dylan had been instructed to give an update through your earpiece every three minutes, on any action seen in the camera footage. Every time he did, though, it was accompanied by music blasting in the car, and the increments kept getting further and further apart. Almost like he was forgetting about his responsibilities and the importance of this event on your shoulders, should something go wrong. You rolled your eyes and kept a watch of the room. If you had such little backup, it was on you now to do this job, without the team you had specifically requested.

Dylan’s friends seemed to go quiet, too, which you were hoping wasn’t due to capture or something worse, but when you heard conversation about a fantasy football draft in your ear, you knew they were at least alive, although not helpful at all.

You were sick of running blind, though, so you casually made it look like your were scratching your ear and turned away from the crowd.

“Chief, status report.” Nothing. You waited thirty seconds. Silence.

You turned back to the room, the gnawing feeling in your stomach growing as you looked out at the crowd. Natasha, code name Widow, was making her way around with a tray of champagne flutes. Daisy, codename Blossom, sat in a vent somewhere, watching from above and monitoring everyone’s trackers. The three of you sighed and continued on, hoping this night wouldn’t be every eventful, but that’s never how life goes, is it?

“Blossom, report on coms. Is everything working?”

You waited a second for the response.

“All is good, Redwing. It’s a human, not technology error.”

You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that night, but were pulled out of your annoyance by a searing sound. In the next moment, just as you were about to ask for any other possible news from Daisy, a crackling took over your ear.

You fought the urge to wince and draw attention to yourself. It was probably Dylan finally getting back to you, but the voice that came through was one you’d never heard before. It was low and urgent.

“Get them out of there.”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes went wide and you whisper yelled, turning into the fake plant you found yourself nearby.

“Who is this? This is a secure line! What’s going on?”

You were surprised by the warning firmness of the speaker, it was menacing, who did this person think they were? Was that a threat?

“This is Bootleg. Your clients are in danger. What’s about to happen isn’t meant for them. Find a way to get them to leave.”

You sighed and nodded, although the disembodied voice named ‘Bootleg’ wasn’t reassuring. You knew to never turn down a tip, though. You weren’t going to risk it with clients like this. So you let out a sigh and made eye contact with Nat across the room.

“Execute plan beta sixteen alpha.”

She gave you a curt nod and increased her pace in a way only someone with your type of training could pick up. She was circling to make her movements seem undetectable, but she was ultimately going towards the First Lady and her son. Nat tripped, spilling the tray of champagne on their laps, causing them to gasp and look down. You could tell they were ready to yell, but they looked to your face and you nodded, signaling them to get up, brushing away anyone with apologies or offers for help, saying they were just going to clean up. The rest of the rich party goers didn’t pay it a second thought besides whispers of clumsy waitstaff. It’s not like they would bother to remember the face of one of them, though, and were too busy watching a fumbling Nat to see your approach to take your clients out of the venue. You did your best to move slowly to the same exit as them, and as soon as your bodies were behind the closed ballroom door, you were rushing them towards the back service door to get in Dylan’s getaway vehicle.

You ducked their heads under your arms as you rushed them out, and shoved them into the back of the town car, only giving a quick, breathless word to your clients and your brother.

“Take them home, Dyl. Fast. Don’t let yourself get tracked. I’ll take the decoy car. Go, now!”

He nodded like a bobble head, shifting the car in gear and peeling out of the lot as you jogged over to the other vehicle where Daisy and Nat were already waiting in the front seat for you. They moved fast.

You hopped in, Daisy expertly backing out until she hit the street. Just as she put it in drive, you flinched at a sudden noise and looked out the back window to where an explosion happened in front of the venue and soldiers dressed in all black rushed in through the cloud of smoke. This would definitely hit the news tomorrow, but you were sure your father would commend you for the safe delivery of two of his most important packages.

Daisy and Nat had been by your side for as long a you could remember. When you were in elementary school, you remembered a brooding girl sitting at the end of the lunch table, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, with the angriest pout you’d ever seen. You walked over and plopped down with your tray.

“Hi.”

She looked up from her meal and to your smile and simply gave a blink of acknowledgment, face unchanging.

“Are you okay? Something wrong with your lunch?”

She shook her head and took a deep breath, sitting up to eat a tater tot.

“No. Something’s wrong with my shirt.”

You tilted your head to the side. “What about it? I think it’s beautiful. I love Daisies.”

She shrugged and continued to pick through her food. “Yeah, I guess they’re alright. But my mom forced me to wear this. I had a plain black shirt picked out and she gave me this. I don’t wanna wear daisies.”

You giggled and looked down at the plain black shirt on your body. “Trade?”

For the first time, you watched the corner of her lip reach a smile, your new friend who would soon earn the shirt flower as a nickname. That little grin was huge compared to the tight line her lip previously held. That was the start of a bunch of mini smirks and teamwork.

Nat had been around since you were in diapers. Her parents had worked for your father’s organization their entire lives, so when they passed as she was in her teens, your family took her in.

She was always incredibly smart, her wit challenging you and Daisy, but the two of you would hit her right back. The timeline of her moving in with you, too, was a few years before the presidential gig started, but she rose through the ranks with you, through every single job, the two of you bringing Daisy on board who caught on quickly. Your grouping was nearly unrivaled. Nearly.

Daisy and Nat physically stood by your sides as the three of you looked on to your father talking on a podium. Your best suits were pressed and tailored perfectly for the special occasion. It was his retirement party in your family’s backyard garden where he was noting the successes of the company under him, including the recent incident from which the two important clients had been saved.

The three of you lightly nudged each other’s arms in commendation for the quick act despite your lack of backup, a small smile on your face, a smirk on Nat’s, with Daisy looking as composed and stoic as ever. You father continued in his speech, noting the valiant effort that needs to be maintained in a generational business like this, one that should be rewarded and carried on for the generations to come. You stood straight, chin up with pride at your hard work and dedication finally paying off.

“I was a young pup, only in my early twenties when I took this business over from my father. He deemed me most fit for the job, so it is my pleasure to do the same, keeping this line of work led by my family. I’d like to name my replacement, someone who valiantly saved the president’s son and wife. Someone who the son has raved about for returning them home to the White House safely. My wonderful child…”

You were ready for the culmination of years being under his wing. He gestured his arm out to the side and you braced yourself for the good news, except the arm wasn’t outstretched towards you. It was directed towards the other side of the stage and everyone’s eyes followed. “Dylan.”

Dylan was jerkily shoved forward by one of his friends, having been zoned out for the entirety of your father’s speech, but at the sound of cheering and clapping, a smile grew on his face. He waved at the crowd, walking over to the podium to shake your father’s hand and give a word of his own.

Meanwhile, your face fell. It was dragged downward in defeat. You quickly pulled yourself together, though, at a squeeze to your arm. You couldn’t even tell which side it came from. Your body was going numb. Shifting to plant your feet and fighting the burn in your eyes, you looked straight forward, no longer at the podium, although you had no way to shut off your ears.

“Wow, wow. Thank you. This is such an honor. At eighteen years old, I will be the youngest to ever run this organization.”

It seemed like he’s was at least doing well and presenting a strong face. That was rare.

“Haha, I beat ya, gramps! Okay, let’s party!”

You outwardly cringed, but your legs were paralyzed as his friends let out a whooping cheer and the party erupted in confetti. It was getting caught in your hair as Nat and Daisy dragged you away and inside, up the stairs to your childhood bedroom, jostling you like a rag doll. You felt almost catatonic.

As soon as you flopped down on your bed, though, you turned over and screamed into your pillow before sitting up, realizing this act of melodrama was going to wrinkle your suit.

You sat up and sniffled, rubbing your eyes and taking a deep breath to give yourself just a moment to think. You looked between your best friends and started pointing.

“Daise, can you pack up anything you think I might need from here? Whatever I can’t live without.”

You then looked to the redhead who was peeking out the window, watching your father enter the outdoor entrance of his home office.

“Nat, can you gather some home essentials? Food, first aid, some of the hidden and spare weapons. Only the ones they won’t sense are missing, okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. We better do it quick. Your pops just came in.”

You bit your lip and your nostrils flared in anger and thought, rubbing your hands over your face. “Okay. That’s fine, I need to talk to him anyway. That should give you enough time to grab everything. Then we’re heading back to the apartment to get some essentials.”

The three of you were roommates in the city, renting out a place Daisy’s distant uncle owned, which allowed you some freedoms, as well as independence from the possible tracing of your location on government records. Even under a security conglomerate, you could sense things were going downhill, so it was a good choice to move out and detach yourself. At this point, you were barely traceable. Only one thing tethered you here on a paper trail: the company.

You stormed out of your room and down the stairs to the hall that held your father’s office. You were furious. You had no patience left for formality or kindness, this was all rage. You kicked in the strong oak door, splintering the wooden frame, and were met with the view of your father and brother clinking whiskey glasses, an old celebratory reserve poured in them.

You stomped over to the filing cabinets where your file, thick as a novel, was stored. Next to it, you pulled out two more, no less impressive. Your dad, even though he possessed several methods for tech security, still kept employee information on paper in case he accidentally hired a mole. Everything was under lock and key and 24 hour surveillance.

You dug around in the left side drawer of his desk until you found the cigar lighter, hitting the edge of the folders until they caught and throwing them into his metal trash can. It was only then that he and your brother let words come out of their dropped jaws and awestruck faces.

“Tweety Bird, what’s the issue, kiddo? Didn’t wanna celebrate with your old man and little brother?”

You scoffed as you put your hands on your hips.

“Celebrate!? Celebrate what!? Being snubbed? Overlooked for something I’ve dedicated my life towards!?”

Your father’s bushy brows furrowed in confusion, your brother’s face mirroring it in a mini version. “What do you mean? You haven’t been snubbed. Dylan and I agree you’re meant to run teams and operations. You wouldn’t want to be in charge. Plus, it’s tradition that the first son takes over.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. Smoke was filling the room, but partially getting swept out the cracked windows that pointed toward the back yard. “You didn’t think to ask me, the one keeping your business afloat, to run it!? No one knows it better than me, but it’s so ridiculous. Just because I’m an older sister like Aunt Kay, doesn’t mean I don’t wanna be in charge! She wanted to leave this life, but I don’t!”

You heard a chuckle rise behind you. “What, Dylan?”

He shrugged with a smug smile on his face. “Aunt Kay didn’t want to leave this life. She wanted the company, too. But Gramps gave it to dad. That’s why she fucked off to who knows where and started that bank vault company.”

You gasped in shock and looked to your father but he seemed unaffected. You turned to him now, disgusted with the sight of your little brother. “What!? Do you hear yourself right now!? Just because we aren’t men!? That’s insane!! I’m the one who saved the president’s family. Not Dylan, me! He was too busy sitting on his ass and picking his nose to be of any help. Maybe we would’ve seen the team coming to attack the venue sooner if he would’ve done his job!”

Your chest was heaving and your face was warm from the yelling. Your father still calmly continued. “Dylan returned the family safe and sound. You were nowhere to be seen. He deserves this step of responsibility, but I have no doubt you can guide him like an invisible hand.”

You shook your head, moving back towards the door between the leather couches of the sitting area, pacing on the Persian rug. “No, no. Absolutely not. I refuse to keep performing thankless service. You’ve made a mistake. I no longer want to work for you and I no longer want to be a part of this family. This whole thing is fucked. I’m out.”

Your father sighed, about to speak up. “Bird, we-“

He was cut off by the arm of your brother, though. “No, dad. If she wants to leave, I think she should. I don’t want anyone here questioning my leadership. The president’s son will back me on that. He’s upset the extraction ruined a designer suit and thinks that I’m the best fit, too. I can run this without her.”

Your dad gave a hmph of affirmation, which sent you over the edge. After all those years of service, both your father and the president’s son still didn’t credit your work. You couldn’t stand this anymore, especially not when Dylan was fabricating lies in his own head about the greatness you performed.

“You know what, Dyl? Yeah, let’s have it your way. You guys will never need to see me again. Good luck not running this thing into the ground.”

You turned on your heel and marched out the door. When you turned the corner, you saw both Nat and Daisy waiting for you, double fisting duffel bags. You motioned for both of them to head to Nat’s car, walking quickly, but they were more than capable of keeping up. You heard Daisy speak from over your left shoulder.

“Bird, where are we going?”

As you barged through the glass front door and put on your sunglasses, you took a breath in of the air that marked your new life, outside the stuffy patriarchy of what you thought would be your legacy.

“Somewhere far. And don’t ever call me that again.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: Bruh, could you imagine being betrayed by your own father like that? Also, we’ll be seeing more of Daisy as the reader for Jake’s storyline in the future.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[rosewine-5]

Eyes Never Lie

gif made by margeretmarch

Coriolanus Snow x b!woc capitol reader

(Contains spoilers for T.B.O.S.&S)

A.N: what the hell is a p.o.v anyways, it bounces from one character to another. I am not the best writer so if you see a spelling mistake/ typo I apologize, I’ll get better.

A.N 2.0 : this might get a part 2 because my mind got one idea, then another and I just RAN with it.

Word Count: 4.2k words (trust me, it was more)

———

When the both of you first met, it just so happened to be your first year at the academy. At the time, you were only acquainted to one person, a nice boy who, despite his riches, was very humble, and dare you say good looking: Sejanus Plinth. He had approached you, making civil conversation, and before long you both discovered the two of you had similar thoughts and opinions, particularly about the capitol.

That was when you first laid eyes on him. The tall blue eyed blonde boy. From the look on his face, anyone could tell he was a little nervous, hell everyone was a bit nervous to be here, being the first day and all. But flexing your hand every 5 seconds is a clear sign you’re about to pass out from fear. That was when you approached him, Sejanus not too far behind.

When he turned to you, his eyes widened a little, shocked someone was looking to make conversation with him. While his eyes went from in between Sejanus and yourself, yours stayed on his face. He kept a calm face, not showing a lot of expression, one free lesson growing up you had mastered.

Even though you were blessed to grow up in the capitol, you never much cared for the people, viewing the other districts almost like animals and not people infuriated you.

But you were good at hiding your expression behind your eyes, and this boy was good at it too. Too good. In fact, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, “Odd, I can usually tell, even guess what people think.” Not him, not Coriolanus Snow, as he introduced himself. You knew of him, just not anything about him other than his family name.

As years went by, it became clear the 3 of you would be close friends, but your feelings for Coriolanus grew deeper than yours for Sejanus. You couldn’t see Sejanus as much as you could Coriolanus, so naturally you would have a deeper connection. The both of you even walked to school most of the time because you lived so close together.

Today you decided to add a couple of beads onto your braids this morning and walked out of the house. After walking a couple of blocks, you spotted Coriolanus just walking outside, and waving to you. “You’re up early.” You said, giving him a short hug which he returned. “I didn’t want to be late.” You rolled your eyes as he said that, “You’ve never been late to class, ever.”

He looked forward, a smirk on his face. “Can’t afford to be late.” He always answered. You looked up at him, his eyes never wavering from the road ahead. “You know why.” He then added, to which you nodded as a reply.

You discovered his true reasoning of why he strived to be top of the class by chance. He had gotten sick as he was walking home, having an uncontrollable coughing fit and fell out on the grass. You refused to let him walk home alone and that was the first time you had seen him so vulnerable. He almost looked embarrassed when you helped him in his home and to his room.

As you helped him out of his jacket, he slowly laid back. You went to get a towel to wipe the blanket of sweat off his forehead. As you came back, he caught your hand. “I’m sorry you had to see this.” He weakly said, returning your attention to him,” Go ahead, laugh at me.” I shook your head, “Why would I? You’re my friend.” You then took the towel and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“I may have been raised capitol, Coriolanus, but I was also raised with a soul. I’d do anything to survive and succeed in this life, who am I to judge you for doing the same thing?”

For a moment the only thing in the room was the sound of his breathing as his hand reached for your hand, and kissed it, before holding it firmly, never looking away from you. You looked in his eyes, and for the first time you could finally see what he was thinking, “Thank you”. You then nodded, not needing him to say a word as you stood up, and kissed his forehead, “Get some rest, Corio, you need it.” As you walked out of the home, you walked in silence.

You felt like a terrible friend, not knowing how much he was going through. But that wasn’t the only reason, your heart soared when his lips kissed your hand. Sure it might have been an innocent gesture, but the way he looked at you made your heart stop for a second. Sometimes you swear he did it on purpose.

During the last academy year, the closer you got to Coriolanus, the more you realized you truly loved him, and sometimes you thought he loved you back. The walks to the academy became slower and somehow his hand always found yours. At one point you had to run to get there on time, earning the both of you harsh stares from Dean Highbottom and smirks from Sejanus.

The both of you also agreed to study together whenever you could, even including Sejanus whenever he was free. There was no doubt in your mind that either you or Coriolanus would be top of the class, and receiving the Plinth Prize. And if you were the one who came out on top, you would give Coriolanus the funds he needed, whatever they would be.

While you two studies for the last test, he smiled when you rolled his eyes. “Alright smartass, you’re going to pass.” You said. Suddenly, he pulled you into his arms, and hugged you tightly.

You then felt his voice break, “Thank you.” He softly said. “You’re my friend, I’d help you with anything.” You said, looking up at him, a smile splitting your face. As you walked to class the next day & took the exam, he had a sly smirk on his face the whole day. Even at lunch he didn’t drop it. “Someone in a real good mood.” Sejanus said, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah, what’s got you in a good mood?” You teasingly asked. “You know.” He said, looking at you, the smirk turning into a smile, which all of your mirrored.

As the two of you walked back home he had a smile on his face again. Confidence. As he stayed close behind you, you stopped when you got to his doorstep. “So, here’s to winning the Plinth Prize tomorrow.” You said, giving him one last hug, which he returned. That was when you lifted your head to look up at him, but he was already looking down at you. Once again, you couldn’t read the thoughts behind his eyes, but you could make a good guess. He only had that similar look when it was just the two of you together: admiration.

“What is it?” You asked, a nervous chuckle leaving your mouth. He only shook his head, offered you a smile, finally releasing you from the embrace. “See you tomorrow, Calanthe.” He whispered before going inside. “One day I’ll look up what that name means.” You said to yourself, walking home.

The next day, graduation day. You woke up early to get your makeup on, slicking your edges back, and, to enhance your braids, added a gold charm in the middle. Afterwards you got dressed in the outfit Tigris made for your graduation. She insisted on it and told you she wouldn’t take no for an answer. As you walked to their home, you heard your name being called from behind you. Tigris was waving you down before hugging you excitedly. “Turn around for me!” She said, making you twirl as she admired her work.

As you waited, you saw Grandma’am clip a rose and walk out of her room. “Oh, dearie don’t you look gorgeous.” She said, smiling at you and opening her arms to you. You met her in the middle and gave her a light hug. “Not a gorgeous as you, Grandma’am.” You said, smiling at her kind words. She then walked forward and after an exchange of words, pinned the rose to his vest.

His eyes finally met yours, and then they took in your dress. He walked forward and kissed your hand, a now normal occurrence between the two of you. “Shall we?” He asked, before walking the both of you out the door. As the two of you walked to the academy, you could feel his eyes on you. “You look beautiful.” He said, giving you a smile, and making your heart soar once more.

“And you look dashing today.” You complimented, not missing the red tint on his cheeks. As you two walked up the stairs, his arm looped into yours. “Never missed a class, never been late.” He said to himself. “Corio, you got this.” You said, encouraging him, he offered you a small smile just as a new and familiar voice broke the moment.

“Why Coriolanus Snow.” You saw the small smirk grow on his face. “Clemie.” He said, offering him his other arm. “Hey girl.” She said, nodding to you, and getting a smile in return. “Two girls on your arm, must be your lucky day.” Clemmie teased and making Corio roll his eyes. As she continued to talk, your mind went to the graduation. You were getting more nervous than usual.

Something felt off today, and you didn’t like it.

You didn’t realize you had stayed in a trance until Sejanus walked up beside you, breaking the gaze. “Sejanus, you made it to the reaping for once.” “And you made it to graduation, Festus, we’re both shocked.” After hearing Sejanus’ quips, you went to sit down. You didn’t know why your nerves were acting up, but you couldn’t kick this feeling. “You ok?” You heard a voice ask, Sejanus was standing over you, concern in his eyes. “I’m just nervous about today.” You said, making him nod in response.

“Well, you may be right.” He said, sitting done next to you. That made the hair on the back on your neck stand up. And the look on his face didn’t help either. “What do you mean?” You asked, but getting no answer. Then as the rest of the students sat down, you saw why he was so silent. After it was announced there would be no more Plinth Prize, you looked at Coriolanus, who had a worried expression on his face.

However, when it was announced that the graduates would be mentors of the Hunger Games, that was when you froze, and your mind started to race.

There’s 25 graduates.

There are only 24 tributes.

Someone isn’t getting a tribute.

Going from district to district, started to guess who had a good chance at winning. Your heart broke when one girl, Dill, was pulled out. You stared to wonder if she had been voted so she could die in the arena. When it got to the district 12 female tribute, it was down to you and Coriolanus. His hand found yours and held it tightly, but you didn’t know who was holding on tighter.

“The runt girl from district twelve, she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

And that was when you knew he was the one holding on to you. He squeezed your hand so hard you almost thought he broke it.

The tribute: Lucy Gray, was wearing a colorful dress with a corset top. You had to admit, she was beautiful, and so was her dress. You watched as she put a snake on a girls dress, making you smirk. “I love her already” you thought to yourself. But then your mind suddenly came back to reality, you didn’t have a tribute. What did I do wrong? Did I pass? Did I fail?

The only thing that broke your trance was a voice singing, then another. You saw Lucy Gray stand up, and continue to sing by herself. “YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!” She then screamed. As the rest of the people laughed at her, you and Coriolanus shared a look: I like her.

As the laughter started to die down, one voice spoke up. “If you didn’t receive a tribute, report to Dr. Gaul.” Highbottom’s voice spoke up, and then it was silent. All eyes turned toward you, and it made you want to curl up in a ball and die. Sejanus’ hand found yours, giving you a silent squeeze of encouragement, and Coriolanus’ did the same. You then walked towards the woman, a small smile gracing her face.

“Let’s have a talk, child.” She said, her hand finding your back, leading you away from the hall. You were only able to catch a small glimpse of Coriolanus’ worried expression as you went down the hallway. She started to hum a tune while she led you to her lab. You had never been here, but you always wanted to get a peek. “Guess I got my wish.”

“I’ve been watching you, dear, for a long time.” She said, going further into the room. “Almost the top of your class, but you could never quite get that edge.” Dr. Gaul said, pinching her fingers together. “Why am I here?” You asked, finally finding your voice. Dr. Gaul then raised her eyebrows, and then let out a dark chuckle. “Let me ask you: What do you crave most in this world?”

You sighed, “To survive and thrive in this world.” She nodded, “Good answer.” She said, smiling. “You and your friend, Coriolanus, you two are good friends. Bonds like that build trust, those bonds can help you live as much as they can destroy you.” Dr. Gaul said, going to one of her glass cases in her lab. You didn’t know what the hell was in it, and frankly, you didn’t want to know. “I’ve known President Ravinstill for a long time, and we both live well, and thrive.” She said, putting her hand on your shoulder before looking down at you.

“I see myself in you, child. You thirst for survival, but to thrive you need to reach for power,” that was when she gave you a deadpanned look, “that’s why I pulled you from the games.” Your eyes widened at the realization, and she smiled once more. “You don’t need the Plinth Prize when you got mommy and daddy’s money. Why settle for a housewife when you have the brains of game maker.”

You almost shouted when she finished, “Game maker?” You said, to which she nodded. “You’ve always been a curious child, a strong appetency for knowledge.” Dr. Gaul said, putting her gloved hand under your chin. “You want a look behind the curtain? You wanna know how the puppeteer makes the strings? You need to join the magic show.”

You thought about your options, but you knew this opportunity wouldn’t come around twice. Almost like she knew your answer, Dr. Gaul then took you hand, and led you deeper into her lab.

After talking for hours, you knocked on Coriolanus’ door and it immediately opened to a shocked Tigris. “Where’s Corio?” You asked, after hugging her. It didn’t take long for him to come around the corner and hugged you tightly. “What happened? Did you get hurt?” He asked, but you stopped his hand as he examined your face. “I’m okay. Dr. Gaul just pulled from the competition.” You calmly said, and immediately regretted it, the faces of Tigris and Coriolanus going from worry to shock. “Why?” He asked.

She told me she’d be mentoring me from now on. I’ll be studying under her from now on, as well as continuing my classes.” His eyebrows rose before hugging her again. “That’s great news.” He said, but then I hugged him tighter. “For a moment, I thought my life was done for.” He nodded, and then looked you deep in the eyes. “We will get through this. I promise you.” You left a few minutes later, but before you got down the street, Coriolanus caught you “Hey!” He shouted, making you turn around. He was running towards you, holding out a wrapped cloth.

“I meant to give you this at the graduation, but you were pulled away.” He said. You unwrapped it, and smiled when you saw the flower charm. You smiled and held it tightly. “I meant to get a charm for this one day.” You said, looking up at him. “Guess I beat you to it.” He said, before returning the smile. “Meet me at the train tomorrow. I have a plan on how to get in Lucy Gray’s good graces.” You nodded and went home afterwards.

The next morning you got up early and put your uniform on before walking to the station, where Coriolanus was already talking to Lucy Gray, who saw you walking up to them. “Another mentor?” She suddenly said, turning towards you, pointing a white rose in your direction, obviously a gift from Coriolanus. Smart.

That was when he turned to you, and put an arm around you. “This is Lucy Gray. Lucy Gray, this is my closest friend.” He said, and you gave her a smile. “Another rebel?” She said, looking at you. “If it fits,” you said, shrugging, before leaning closer to her. “ loved the stunt you pulled with the snake by the way.” You added, making her smirk.

The moment was cut short when a peacekeeper nudged her and the male tribute towards a vehicle. “It was lovely to meet you two.” She said, before being led away to the back of a van. You then saw his eyes go to the van, and then it clicked in your head. “Corio, don’t.” You said, but it was too late. He was running toward the van, and you were following close behind him. It finally registered what you just did when he slammed the door behind him and felt the van move, going wherever it was going.

And now here you two were.

In a vehicle.

Full of tributes who were looking at the two of you like lions to lambs. Corio put you beside him, putting you closer to the tribute from 2 and the wall. “Hi.” He said, his voice sounding weak. “You in the wrong cage pretty boy, pretty girl?” The tribute Realer asked, tilting his head to look at you. “This cage is delightful.” He said, and then Reaper went towards Corio, pinning him to the back. You yelped when you were then surrounded by the tributes. “Shit.” You thought.

Somewhere between the exchange between Corio and the other tributes, you felt the truck come to a sudden stop, getting everyone’s attention. That was when you felt the truck start to tilt forward, everyone started to slide down. In one swoop you reached for Lucy’s hand as she reached for yours as Coriolanus wrapped one arm around your waist and your free arm around his shoulders. The three of you were able to hang on to each other as the other tributes began to slide down and out of the van. The three of you followed suit after the harness broke, sending you all tumbling out of the truck.

Lucy slid down first, with you and Corio falling out last. He was able to wrap both of his arms around you before everyone let out groans and curses from falling on rocks. When you were able to look up, you realized exactly where you were: The Capitol Zoo. And if fate couldn’t make it any better, Lucky Flickerman was in front of the pen, with his entourage of cameramen. “You gotta be kidding me.” You said, groaning and leaving you head down, only to be met with a blue shirt.

As you lifted your head, you were face to face with Coriolanus, who, somehow, had managed to keep his hold on you when everyone tumbled out of the van. “You ok?” You asked, to which he nodded. “Yes. Are you ok?” He asked, and you nodded in response. His eyes went to your necklace and the rose charm attached to it, a smile blooming on his face. His hand touched it, “You put it on.” He said in a soft tone & a tender look in his eyes.

As you both smiled at each other, you felt one hand go to your cheek and to then the other to your waist. The rest of Panem melted away as his breath hit your face. You forgot about being in the capitol, being Gaul’s student, and the tributes around you as you looked in between his eyes and his lips. “Calanthe.” He whispered, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. That was until the voice of Flickerman broke the moment. “Are those academy students?” He said, and the both of you looked up to see the camera pointed directly at you.

“You guys ok?” Lucy asked, walking up to the both of you. “Yeah, you?” You asked, getting off of Corio and helping him up. The three of you looked around, and sighed. That’s when you began to brainstorm: how could you get out of this without getting expelled? “We gotta get them to love her.” You said to yourself. You then brought your necklace to the front of your shirt before unbuttoning the top button, making the rose charm more visible. “We give them what they want: a performance.” You then walked to Lucy and began to smooth out her hair while Corio broke the white rose and tucked it behind her ear.

He then put her hand out for Lucy to take, which she accepted. He then turned and opened his arm towards you, making you raise your eyebrows. “Trust me.” He whispered, and Lucy nodded towards his arm, and that’s how you found yourself being next to him as he presented Lucy to a pair of children at the cage.

You weren’t only shocked of how he fell into the role of a mentor, but how Lucy played her part as a tribute. She had a smile on her face when she talked to the children, and a calm expression when Flickerman approached and interviewed her. You couldn’t help but smile as she talked about her dress and where she was from. The Covey sounded like it was a homely group of people. You couldn’t help but picture how the nature of district 12 looked.

That was when Lucky Flickerman turned towards you. “And who might this lovely lady be? Are you also her mentor?” He asked, the camera’s filling the microphone as it was put in front of you. An innocent smile grew on your face as you shifted your tone into a kind voice, while still having a serious edge to it. “No sir, I’m taking courses from Dr. Gaul instead of being a mentor in the games. I’m here to support my dear friend, Coriolanus Snow.” You said, smiling up at him, which he responded by squeezing you closer to him. “You both seem pretty close for dear friends. How long have you known each other?” Flickerman asked, moving the microphone to Coriolanus.

“Since the first day we went to the academy. She approached me, and we’ve been close ever since. I’ve never known a more intelligent and alluring woman.” He said, and your eyes did a double take at his choice of words. Before you could answer, peacekeepers walked in and escorted you out of the cage. “I’ll come back later.” You said to Lucy Gray, holding her hand for a moment before you were taken away, Corio coming out a minute later. As the both of you walked back to class, you kept looking up at Coriolanus.

“On a scale of one to expelled, how fucked do you think we are?” You asked, making him chuckle. “He wanted us to make them spectacles, he never said how we had to do it.” He said, nudging your shoulder, making you huff out a short laugh. You then took his hand and gripped it tight, which he reciprocated. “To survive and thrive.” You said, walking closer to the classroom. “We will survive these games,” Coriolanus softly said, before stopping you, and making you look up at him. “I promise you.”

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK

[atxxzist]

sweetest lies | c.s (01)

prologue // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

warning: nothing i can think of

you can't help but to be annoyed as you shove through the crowd, the blasting music and odors of party people something you were once familiar with, but now only serving as a reminder of the person you used to be.

you weren't gonna come, initially--stuck at your job until the evening and your boss incredibly hard to convince, having made sure to tell yunho beforehand there was a chance you weren't gonna make it.

but afterall, it is yunho, and you were most likely gonna do anything, promising your boss you'll work overtime tomorrow if you have to, if he just let you off this once.

it was the fastest you ever got ready, your hair barely done, makeups too light for your liking, and dress thrown on sloppily, but you still look good.

you know you still do by the amount of eyes and heads hurled your direction while you attempt to free from the overwhelming crowd, relieved to finally find a space where you can breathe even for a second.

you turn and sneak glances past many strangers' heads, hoping to catch at least someone you recognize and knows about yunho's whereabouts, considering the text you sent him fifteen minutes ago went completely unanswered.

something you always hated about parties, whether when you were still into them or not, was that you didn't know more than half of the people that showed up, and this one is no exception--despite being held by yunho at one of the smaller estates owned by his family, everyone either looks like rich kids living a double life or three years younger than you.

yunho usually isn't one for parties either, but he needed something different; something new from dinners and sweet smiles with his parents and people twice his age.

"fancy seeing you here," a voice from behind makes you snap around, finding hongjoong with a cup in his hand and something amusing in his eyes.

"thought you got too good for this kind of setting."

the roll of your eyes is apparent, and you don't bother to hide it.

"i'm not here to get high or whatever, i'm here for yunho."

"of course you are," he snides, the tone and attitude all the evidence that you're just wasting time talking to him, and that even after all these years, hongjoong still holds a little grudge for you.

you cross your arms, leaning to one side to show the impatience.

"so it will be nice if you just tell me where he is," you add.

hongjoong shrugs, taking a sip of his drink nonchalantly, speaking in a dull tone, "haven't seen or heard of him since i got here."

"why the hell do i even bother," you mutter under your breath, about to bring the search somewhere else when he speaks up again.

"why don't you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?"

you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.

his hands on some poor girl's waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won't be a tomorrow.

"no thanks," you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.

you're only here for one thing, and the fact the place's already starting to become suffocating due to hongjoong's jabs alone, a run-in with san will just be one more reason to leave.

you persist through the smell of cigarettes lingering the hallways, couples making out, and people who's entirely not in their right minds, for the next ten minutes--by the time you realize yunho's still yet to reply, you're already upstairs and so sure he won't be in any of these bedrooms as well.

you love yunho, you really do. your heart full of respect and admiration for him, but something that always bothered you is his bouts of silence.

periodic times where he'd just disappear and wouldn't tell you the reasons why, except some quick assurances about the pointless need to worry about it.

you're sure sooner or later, he will make an appearance and you'll both go through the routine all over again, but it's getting a tad ridiculous having to look for him at his own party.

where exactly would a sophisticated and proper man like yunho who doesn't engage in any of the crazy party shenanigans be at?

not downstairs where mostly everyone is, neither is he in the hallways or any of the rooms upstairs, which leads you to the last option of having to look outside in the late november weather that pierces your skin, making you flinch from the cold breeze.

you're more so agitated by the uncomfortableness, the fit you have on not suited for the season at all because you thought you'd be spending most of the time in the house.

so busy being annoyed and bothered, you don't even comprehend it's the backyard you've found way to with a swingset at the corner, your attention finally pulled from the shivering at the sweet sounding feminine laughter.

nothing could've prepared you for what you're about to see.

your face drops immediately at the sight of yunho, who's able to habitually bring a smile out, but your expression stays cold, watching as the man you dedicated almost your entire life to loving, tuck a strand of hair behind someone else's ear, the giggle from her almost too familiar, you don't even want to believe it.

"yunho?" you let out, his name slipping before you can even register, your voice full of hurt and disbelief.

he shoots to the direction of the call, the lovesick expression turning into all kinds of panic and horror, realizing you've been standing there and probably saw everything.

everything he's been hiding, and things that if you had just given him a bit more time, he would've told you... eventually.

"what the fuck?" you continue, unable to read your own tone if it is said out of pain or anger, but you just know that whatever you're feeling right now is a mixture of both.

and just when you think it can't get any worse, your suspicion of the voice and frame turns out to be right as your sister turns head your direction, and if that's guilt in her eyes, you don't believe it.

she knows about your feelings for yunho, and if there's anything she shouldn't touch or mess with (amongst other things she already did), is getting inbetween you and him. yet, she still did.

still chose to get close to him and do whatever the fuck they just did right now.

it feels like every other instances where you lost to her, whether when your parents would flaunt her or when anyone else would ignore you in favor of her.

you wish to say the loss is new, but the only thing different about it is that it's yunho this time.

"y/n, i--"

"--can explain?" you finish for him, one eyebrow raised and anticipating of what kind of lies he'll come up with on the spot. "because it looks like you ignored me all this time because you were too busy with my own sister."

he opens his mouth to say something, but you already very clearly saw the scene for what it is, now backed against a wall with nothing left but the truth to say.

truth he doesn't get to tell because you're already turning your back on them with an unbelievable sigh, yunho knowing how you are and the tendency you have to avoid your problems. run from them and mask them under the pretense of something else.

you want him to come after you, apologize and show even the smallest of guilt that it was a mistake. choosing your sister was a mistake and something he would never do, especially because he knows how you feel about her.

but he doesn't. the only footsteps out in the night are yours heading back inside, and at the small call of his name by your sister, it breaks your heart how comfortable and perfect it sounds coming from her.

once again, you lost.

you can count on two fingers the crushes you've developed over your lifetime, the count stopping shortly when yunho came along--someone who's too perfect in every way, you wonder how someone else is gonna ever beat him, because it truly feels like you'll never get over him.

you were used to disappointment and regrets, but you've never experienced a heartbreak before. that soul crushing feeling almost like grief, going through all the stages of denial and anger, unfortunately still yet to come to acceptance.

that all this time, yunho is seeing your sister behind your back.

you can't even begin to think of how it happened, or the extents they went to in order to keep it from you.

that yunho of all people, the one person you thought could never hurt you, is the one causing you to go through the most painful betrayal right now.

because he knows you and knows that some of your biggest insecurities has to do with your sister.

after running off with yunho nowhere in the line of sight behind you, you wind up at a nearby bar, attempting to drown your sorrow the only way you knew how... by indulging in old addiction and habits.

though you've quit smoking, alcohol is still something you struggle trying to keep away from, a drink way too easier to give into, lying to yourself that it'd be just a few sips until suddenly, you're hazed in the mind and can barely recall where you're at.

but this time, you don't care how much you're drinking as long as it's numbing the ache in your heart.

the bartender's refusing to give any more given your state--head buried inside your arms as you groan into the bar counter with a few passersby lasering you weird looks from behind.

it's probably not very smart, out alone and mind not in the greatest state in such an environment where you could most likely get taken advantage of, so you stay somewhat alerted for that.

just in case anyone tries anything innapropriate, because you know all the tricks by now.

so when you feel a presence slowly taking up the space next to you, the plop as they sit down on the bar stool, your fight or flight is activated, picking your head up expecting to tell another guy to fuck off, only for your jaw to drop slightly at who it is.

"san?" you question, eyes squinting at the same time because you can't think of any reasons why he of all people is here.

if he saw what happened back there, then he's only here to make fun of you for it. insult you and take jabs because it's what he's best at.

san can't possibly give a shit about you.

"yeah?" he answers as he just stares you down, almost like he takes pity on your situation.

"why the fuck are you here? don't tell me you followed me."

"i followed you because i knew you'd do something stupid like this," he says, taking a $100 dollar bill out of his pocket and shoving it toward the bartender because you most likely haven't paid. "now get up."

his command is met by a series of protests, your other hand quickly trying to release the hold he has on your arm attempting to get your butt off the seat, but you're unfortunately not as stubborn and snappy under the influence, unable to hold your ground against a sober san.

your entire body falls forward immediately when on two feet, san catching you with his arms, pressing you against his chest as a smirk creeps onto the corner of his lips.

he knows where the lack of reaction is coming from, but he still can't help but to be smug, seeing you so powerless and weak when you were usually the opposite, opting for yelling about how you want nothing to do with him the normal.

he guides you by the small of your back, fingers on your bare skin that ignites something in him, and trying to exit the bar against your stubborn feet that won't move due to the sleepy state you've somewhat slipped into along the way.

"give me your car key," he says once at the parking lot, watching as you whine groggily while one of your hands dig at your purse in search for the key, passing it to him and almost dropping it in the process.

everything after that is a blur, more so than what already is, only recalling the bits of san settling you onto the passenger seat.

you wake up with a throbbing headache, able to tell right away it's from the drinks you had last night. but other than that, you can't remember anything.

how you got here and where you're at, the place completely unfamiliar, you don't think you've ever been here before.

"oh, good. you're awake."

but the recognizable voice snaps you to his figure sitting at a desk just right beside the bed and on his laptop. it's then that some recollection starts flooding back, all the overwhelming emotions trying to overtake each other.

hurt, betrayal, confusion, and anger.

yunho and your sister for the first half, and san for the other because you can slightly recall speaking to him at the bar before he did whatever he did.

"where the hell am i?" you ask, sitting up to glare at him and checking the room out once more. you suppose it's quite tidy and nice.

your outfit is the same but just slightly washed out and wrinkly, and if you had a mirror, you can already picture the smeared mascara running under your eyelashes.

"my condo," he replies casually, eyes refusing to move from the laptop.

a quick silence passes before a horrible thought comes over, blurting it out the instant it sinks on you.

"did we--"

but the sheer horror in your voice has san turning so fast just to cut you off with a "no", following by a deep, sarcastic chuckle.

"seriously, y/n. what kind of monster do you think i am?"

well, excuse you for assuming because he's given you every reasons to. every single encounter and run-ins, he never missed the chance to throw stupid innuendos about getting in bed with you.

"whatever," you dismiss, yanking the blanket off and scooting to the edge of the bed, making san raise an eyebrow in return.

"where are you going?"

"leaving," you hiss, at the same time pushing your feet into the heels that are found sprawled all over the floor and stealing a quick glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand that brings out a sigh.

"i'm already late for work and everything seems to be going to shit, so i don't need any of this right now."

san scoffs and you try to not let it bother you, finishing up the last bits of your heels before standing up, so close to leaving the room when he starts talking again.

"a thank you would be nice, you know."

he says it so casually but you know that he's hidden a smirk and satisfaction under all the pretense because he loves it when he has even the smallest of hold over you--whether when he's right or succeeded in convincing you to feel indebted.

"i didn't ask for you to take me home," you reply, arms crossed and turning around, something sharp and meaning to hurt in your delivery.

his attention is no longer on the screen of his laptop and has shifted to you completely, figure walking up to peer down with a look that might intimidate you if this isn't a scene that's already happened one too many times between the both of you.

"if i didn't, something could've happened to you. you were shitface drunk."

you smirk before blowing off the concern with a scoff.

"well maybe i prefer the alternative than to have come home with you."

during university days, all of yours and san's friends were so sure that all the squabbling and jabs at one another was just an outlet to release all the suppressed sexual tension.

though you will admit he's attractive--a fact you've seen him use to his advantage many times, there was simply nothing more to it other than the fact you couldn't stand him and still can't.

"ridiculous," he huffs under his breath, a rare instance of annoyance crossing his expression.

he enjoys bantering with you to some extent, often times intrigued by the outrageous things you'd say because it gets him off in some weird, messed up way.

but it's not fun anymore when you take it too seriously, and especially when he does something genuinely (which he doesn't often) and it still doesn't seem to faze you.

as if you've already built an image of him and refuses to change it no matter the depth he goes to--often times leading to a cycle, because he can get impatient and frustrated.

instead of snarking back, your voice actually drops to a much deliberate tone, the words not wanting to spill because it's still all too painful, but it does.

"if you followed me yesterday, then you most likely already knew what happened at the party and why i ended up at the bar. so if you will just let me leave in peace."

considering you promised your boss to make up for the time yesterday and still haven't even shown almost an hour into the shift, you'll be lucky if he lets you off with a warning.

but it doesn't look like san takes pity on your situation, something shifting in him as he stares at you with a gaze that makes you just slightly nervous.

he clears his throat.

"let me ask you something seriously," he says, taking a step forward that makes you swallow a lump. "did you actually believed that this entire time, yunho wasn't seeing anyone?" he ends it with a head tilt that conjures the lump back.

because you did. the entire time, you really fucking believed he wasn't seeing anyone.

"did you not ever questioned all the times he'd disappear or make excuses? and did you ever stop to think about the improbability that someone of his age never had any interactions with other women?"

the sinking realization is unlike anything you've ever experienced before, and if you thought seeing yunho with your sister back then was awful, this pain can almost kill you.

all this time, you were nothing but foolish and delusional.

san can see both the stages of denial and anger in your face, some tears threatening to get out but you manage to hold them back in. you don't like crying because the last thing you want to be seen as is weak. san knows that.

"if he was fucking other people, then why couldn't he just tell me himself?"

"because he didn't want to hurt you," he unveils, much to your stunned reaction. "he knew you'd lash out and act exactly the way you did when you saw them back at the party."

you can only blink in confusion, like all the information are new and unbelievable. the fact yunho really thought so low of you, one you're not sure how to feel.

but a fact more surprising and intriguing than that, is that the entire time... san knew.

"so you knew about him and my sister and whoever fuck else, but still chose to keep it from me? lie to my face and play along with your brother?"

“you followed me?”

“of course. i heard the conversation at the table. you know, if you’re going to get married off to my brother soon, we might as well get it over with; go into one of these rooms. we might not get the chance ever again. i’ll make it quick, and this will just be between you and me.”

san retracts from the sudden accusation that now all of a sudden, he's become the main culprit. he can't help but to feel some sort of way about it, opting for speaking his mind although it often ends up in destruction.

"it's not like we were ever on good terms and you would've listened to me. but i also don't owe you anything because you never see me in a good light anyways."

he always find himself being hot and cold with you. one second filled with regrets for the terrible things he'd say, then the next, he's spewing some more, and you just so happen to be the only other person just as horrible to say even worse things in return.

"but if i knew your girlfriend was fucking someone else behind your back, i sure would've told you," you spit, eyebrows pinched in the whole time.

"it's not my fault you couldn't get the hint that if yunho actually wanted to ask you out, he would've a long time ago."

san regrets it as soon as he finishes the sentence, but it consumes him completely when the anger on you is no longer but trails of hurt and sadness.

"i--"

"--fuck. you," you cut him off, not sparing another second before you're already out the door.

and if san thinks he saw what looks like a tear, he convinces himself it isn't, because you won't cry in front of him, and you definitely won't cry because of a comment he made.

but he did try to make things right the best he knew how; even then, it's never good enough in your eye.

next // series m.list

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[bbunnyyy]

Coconut Pudding.

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader slight E2L >:))))))

A/N: Not proofread. I apologise for any incoherent sentences/ incorrect grammar. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did :)

☁︎ Reader and Shinsou meeting through Aizawa. Aizawa offering reader extra training. ☁︎

Shinsou always rubbed you the wrong way- the both of you snarkily taunting the other every breathing moment you were in each other's presence. It was almost like one of you would bite off the other's head the next instant. Aizawa and Yamada were low-key scared you guys would kill each other one day.

Hitoshi Shinsou. That name was enough to have anger surging through your veins. Everything about him ticked you off- his sarcastic remarks, his cold expression, his stupidity. Each sparring session was tense, Shinsou desperate to prove himself to Eraserhead and get into 1A and you fighting to prove yourself, to prove you deserved your spot in 1A. You and Shinsou got to know each other better whether you liked it or not- you were spending most of your free time with him.

The closer you got, the more time you spent in his presence, the more obvious it was- his bitter and cold demeanour was just an exterior. He was a small fluffy hamster at heart. The distance between you and him that felt like oceans between shores closed before you realised it. Closed by lingering touches and lingering gazes during training. Closed by the softness that seeped into the other's gaze when thinking of the next time you'd meet. In conclusion, He made your heart pound and your cheeks heat up.

Just why?

You asked yourself. Shinsou would be a bitter gourd if someone like you was pudding. You poked your tongue out at the thought, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you walked out the diner all alone. There was a chill in the breeze that made people walk faster than usual, wanting to get back to the warmth of their own homes. Couples were walking hand in hand and kids clung to their parents as the buzz of chatter emptied into silence as they walked past.

You thought about how nice it would be if Shinsou was nicer to you for once. How nice it would be if you could spend time alone with him, How nice it would be if he harboured the same feelings as you did for him, How nice it would be if he liked you- How nice it would be if his love was like Coconut Pudding- sweet. Not overly so. Just right. The kind that makes you melt. The kind that feels refreshing. Oh, how you wished he were with you at this very moment.

☀︎

You tucked your hair behind your ear [sorry to bald readers/ readers without ears] while standing up to leave. The school bell rang five minutes ago, the last of your classmates already gone- eager to get home after the hell of what they called a curriculum UA put them through. Sighing, you started packing your bag. You were late for training. Even thinking about how exhausting training would be was enough to bring tears to your eyes. Looking down at the last few books you needed to stuff into your bag, you thought of Shinsou.

You thought about how you could feel the waves of heat coming off him when he stood closer to you as he helped you with algebra. You thought about how his uniform smelled when it was freshly washed. You thought of how the bruised, red knuckles on his hands looked as he grabbed your hands to lead the way when you were being too slow. You thought of the soft monsoon breeze that slightly ruffled his hair, How his purple eyes looked when he was surprised- like when Sensei kicked him in the stomach which led him to be winded and on his knees hunched over for the next ten minutes.

Sharp snaps brought you back from your melancholic state. Annoyed, you looked at the source of the disturbance. "Earth to Y/N." Shinsou said, now snapping his fingers in your face. Swatting his hand away, you rolled your eyes.

"Piss off." You groaned. "You look like Uraraka's quirk sent you floating all the way to Jupiter. Whatcha thinkin' about?" Shinsou said, now leaning on the desk behind him. His arms flexed as he rested his weight on the wood behind him. "None of your business. If you're dying to know, information costs money. I do miss those macarons from the bakery down that street..." Putting a finger on your chin, you pondered exaggeratedly. Shinsou hummed, "You're late to training." "Right." Inhaling sharply, you looked down at your bag, which was still unpacked. "I'm joking, I'm joking. Sensei cancelled training today. Said something about sorting out legal stuff 'bout Eri."

Before you could get another word out, what Shinsou said next had you staring at him like he had not two, not three but twelve heads. "Now what is it with you and your love for exploring space while staring at someone? If you don't fancy the idea, you can just say so." Shinsou stated, his gaze lowering to the floor but his voice as monotonous as ever. You shook your head, wiping that silly lil expression off your face. "Pff, like I'd say no to free macarons." It was Shinsou's turn to ogle at you- "I didn't say I was paying, I asked you if you could give me company at the cafe if you didn't have any plans."

Shaking your head, you put your hands up. "It's a shame, then. I guess I have no choice but to go home," You pouted. Wordlessly picking up your bag and stuffing the remaining books inside, Shinsou pulled the bag from your hands and slung your bag over his shoulder while walking. You smiled at him happily at his compliance and pulled him out the classroom by his elbow.

Ah, if only you hadn't missed the blush on his face as you walked through the door of the classroom.

[utilitycaster]

I think this is the last I have to say about it, certainly not until new episodes air, but the thing about What The Fuck Is Up With That is that it's emblematic of the issues Bells Hells have - and to be honest I suspect always might have - regarding trust. It's a party game. It's a fun way to get surface-level answers. It's an infodump. It's telling not showing. It's not a bad thing, but you don't build trust, actually, by providing every piece of information! In fact, sometimes, it's good to keep your inside thoughts inside! You build trust with other people through your actions: through keeping your word, through proving your ability to do what they expect of you. Perhaps this is a personal experience and not a universal tenet, but people who share everything about themselves right away and people who end up being genuinely reliable and close and trustworthy are often two nearly entirely separate camps.

This also does once again feel like something with an interesting echo within the fandom. Earlier on in the campaign, before the introduction of 4-Sided Dive, I received a lot of questions about whether it would be helpful if we had something like Talks and my response was usually "no, the issue is that I know everything about the backstory and not actually much anyone's motivations; I have a factual list of personal history and I'm looking for a sense of someone's personality." This still comes up occasionally when I talk about Laudna, whose motivations remain hazy much of the time; we have a quite detailed outline of her history but it is missing the only things that actually matter. We know what. We don't know why. Bells Hells knows so much what about each other and they still struggle, even now, with "why".

And when it comes to why, telling people is nice, but it's very easy to lie about motivations. Indeed, that's why Imogen ends up fooled by her mother; she knows what Liliana did but assumed there was a deeper why than there ended up being; that Liliana wasn't simply seduced by the idea that Predathos would free her and Imogen from the burden of their powers but was also working as a force for good within the Vanguard and wouldn't hurt so many people. The revelation that the "why" really was that simple was ultimately why Imogen felt betrayed. Knowing more details about Liliana doesn't help.

Chetney ends up being the illustrative exception here, if that helps. He arrived late to the party. He never played What The Fuck Is Up With That. He even told them what he was there for (looking for Gurge) and lied about the "why" (werewolf reasons) initially. He to this day keeps secrets. But he's open about keeping secrets. That caginess allows him to be one of the party members most people trust on a fundamental level. They don't trust him to be kind, or generous per se; they don't even trust him to not hurt them. But they trust him to not hurt them intentionally, since he's repeatedly shown he will take steps to avoid this. He is cagey and uncooperative during most of the honesty exercise, but when he finally says something, it isn't a judgement - it is an explanation of his own behavior. When he declines to share his deal with Morri, he still reassures them that he did not do anything that would fall to them - and that's honest, and that's what matters, that he made a deal for himself and himself alone. Compare with Orym, who hides even the fact he made the deal, or Ashton a couple days ago, who hid their true plans with the shard. On the surface, Chetney is the one hiding something - but he is honest that he hides things. If Chetney's secret comes out? It won't change the party's understanding of his trustworthiness; it will just change some of the facts. If Orym's comes out or when Ashton's was revealed? That's a huge change in the party's understanding of their motivations.

Honesty in this party has been a game from the start, and as the exercises show, it still mostly is. A panopticon is, unsurprisingly, not a great way to make people trust each other; a little open hiding and actions over words are in order. I don't think that's necessarily a problem, in that I think Bells Hells share, if not a vast overreaching goal, an agreement regarding their pretty significant task. But I think any deeper trust is yet to be actually tested, tried, and forged.

[lavendermunson]

Gorgeous - steve harrington

chapter 1 of miss americana and the heartbreak prince

summary you are on a break from tour and all of your plans get wrecked by a lovely baseball player.

tags famous!singer!reader and famous!baseball-player!steve. each chapter will have it’s own warnings, none for this one except consumption of alcohol. just pure fluff. i changed the name of the chapter sorryyyyy!!!! no use of y/n

w.c 2.2k

masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter

You’ve reached the half of your tour, and Wednesday’s show was the most energetic. Now you find yourself yearning for some much needed rest during your month-long break. You can already picture yourself making a nest on your bed, doing nothing but sleeping and watching your favorite tv show.

Life takes unexpected turns, it’s Friday now, and one of your friends has invited you to a party. She said it wasn’t a ‘big thing’ but the house was full, the music wasn’t so loud and you wanted to thank the host for it. You miss your bed, and your cats, but it’s also nice to see some of your… friends. Not that you have too many, there’s always a struggle on trusting new people. 

You try to relax your shoulders as you make your way to the kitchen to get a drink. On your way, everyone keeps complimenting you about the successful tour you’ve had.

Since you started making music, the growth of your career has been massive. Rich and famous people often prioritize numbers and records, focused on ‘who does it first’ ‘who wins the next award’ and tons of material shit you don’t care about. You wish someone would appreciate your music as you’ve always seen it, art. It’s an extension of you, a way to feel yourself free while being connected with your fans through truthful and poetic lyrics.

The kitchen is empty, only two people hang around kissing and touching each other like they are invisible. Something in your body aches whenever you get to watch someone giving affection to their partner. It’s inevitable, you yearn for that.

Being a successful person does not always mean you get what you want in your personal life. Sure, you’ve had dates with interesting people but no one sticks around to see the true you. Most of the time they only want to hang out with you, have a date or attend an event only to get their five minutes of fame.

Now that you think about it, maybe you don’t have time to settle down with someone and that’s  disappointing, you really crave for someone to snuggle with and have a fun loving life. Dance around the kitchen, play around at the beach. 

It seems everyone has time for love but you. Everyone does the best, or worst, time on dates while your dates always have paparazzi and people at home watching the pictures, focusing on who you are dating instead of what you do, what you feel, and who you are. It’s more exhausting than performing love songs about fictional people that you’ve created in your head.

You wish your personal life was getting better as your professional life, tour, and travel days are planned, you always get your favorite breakfast, and the love that radiates from the fans makes you glow. It’s a different story when you’re alone in a hotel room, you start to feel like the loneliest person in the world. How can someone perform for 30,000 people and yet feel so alone five hours later?

Being on tour is exhausting, but for a couple of minutes on that stage, you feel powerful. It’s the safest place you have, for now.

You are in desperate need of the strongest drink you can get. So, you reach for a bottle but as you reach for it, a hand is pressed against yours. You gasp at the sudden touch and look up to see who it is.

Famous baseball player Steve Harrington appears from out of nowhere. The touch feels warm, you blush as he looks at you with a grin on his face.

“Soft spot for whiskey? This is my favorite one too” he says, your lips parted as you feel the heat on your face.

Keep. Yourself. Together.

“Uh…” you didn’t even realize it was whiskey, I just grabbed the first thing I could find” you confess, biting your lip as you miss the warmth of his hand. 

“You weren’t going to pour this fine whiskey on that red cup, were you?” a chuckle escapes from his lips. He is cocky, he grins like he is the king of the world, and you… you like it.

“I- I just wanted something stronger than this beer” You let the red solo cup on the table focusing on his movements.

“Let me handle this” he makes his way through the kitchen looking for a cup worthy of his favorite liquor. He manages to get one, it’s not the same one he hand-picked since the party started but he believes it’ll do the job. He adds a couple of ice cubes and pours the whiskey, just the right amount.

As he hands you the cup, your fingers briefly touch, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what’s got you so nervous, please, you are the queen of the world right now. 

“Thank you,” you say, taking a sip of the drink. As the liquor travels through your throat, you can feel it burn. It’s a feeling that leaves you pleased, this is exactly what you were looking for. “Wow, it’s delicious”

“I know, the best whiskey in this state,” he says. “I’m Steve Harrington, by the way,” he gets closer to you, his hand reaching out for yours.

You shake his hand, your cheeks feel hotter than ever. “Nice to meet you, I’m-”

“I know who you are,” he whispers, winking with a grin. Letting go of your hand he finishes his drink in a sip. He wipes the corner of his mouth and grabs the bottle of whiskey. “It’s too loud in here, do you want to join me in the backyard?" The house fills with voices as someone else arrives and everyone goes to the front porch to greet them.

“Sure” you nod, now holding your drink between your hands. You follow him to the backyard, small and shy steps– far from your usual confident self.

“Here, I grabbed this blanket earlier. You can sit with me” He offers you a spot on a blanket, sitting down and getting comfortable.

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the whiskey fade the nerves away. “It looks like you had this planned out” You leave your cup on the grass, letting the ice melt a while, to make it less strong. 

He laughs, looking at the stars in the sky. You get lost on his features. The way his nose is perfectly shaped, his eyelashes are long, the little freckles on his face lit up by the yellow little lights in the backyard. “I wanted some space. I have a game on Sunday and I got dragged to this party… I tend to just find a place for myself. It looks like you needed a break too”

You notice how his nose scrunches up when he mentions his game. You bet he didn't know that you were aware of his existence, but you did. It was impossible to dismiss him, he has been one of the biggest and most famous players since the season started. Your dad and your friends talk about him. On tour, some people on your team watch his games before the show since the games are early. His face covers some of the biggest places in the cities you visited on tour. 

“Is it a big game?” you curse yourself, of course it is. But you know nothing about baseball so he lets it pass. He looks at you with a sympathetic smile.

“It is, the team we are going up against is one of the best. I don’t tend to talk about it days before or I will get nervous” he confesses, leaning his head to one side and looking at you like you are the most beautiful jewel in the world.

“I don’t believe you” you laugh, shaking your head.

“What?”

“You, getting nervous. Your team has won over and over because of you, people on my tour team always brag about how you are the best”

Steve blushes at your words. He is fucking blushing and lets out a nervous but cute laugh.

“Don’t tell me you don’t get nervous after a show” his cocky grin comes back, you reach quickly for your cup to take a sip.

“I don’t,” you say.

He leans back, eyes wide. His lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t? How?” he asks.

“I do the same every night. It’s all choreographed, the one who is always nervous is my tour manager. But me. I don’t know” You let your head fall to look at the cup, and you shake it slowly so the ice cubes make a sparkly sound. “When I get on stage my heart just fills with warmth and I know there are people who are having the best time just because of me”

“That sounds very romantic” he searches for your face, and you look at him.

“It’s the closest I will ever get to romance” you sigh, feeling a sense of shared understanding.

“Hey, cheers to that!” he says.

“Cheers!” 

You clink your glasses together. The night slips away, accompanied by Steve, whiskey, and sharing stories.

He is sweet, he has a true passion for his job, loves his career, and his team. You didn’t like to talk about work, but what else would you talk about? Work consumes both of you, it's easy to realize that. He is in every poster, you are in every magazine. Social media is filled with pictures of you, good news, bad news, fake news. 

“It’s comforting to know someone is as married to their job as I am,” he says, his words slurred from the whiskey.

“I don't like to call it a work, it’s more like…” you begin.

“A dream come true,” he finishes for you.

“A dream come true, yes” You agree, feeling your head already spinning, the bridge of your nose hurting and your back giving up after sitting on the grass.

“Can I just tell you.. You are not what people say you are, well, not entirely” he says suddenly, whiskey doesn’t make Steve confident, it makes him dumb.

“What do you mean?” you worry, your body tensing in anticipation.  You’ve read all of the nasty things people have said about you, but it only hurts when it comes from someone you like or care about. Was he about to say something mean?

Steve could never say something hurtful. He respects people so he can be respected in return. He’s experienced the harshness of the media as well, he has somewhat of a bad reputation.

“You are an icon. But right now, you are just… you” he shrugs. “You look so unreal in those magazines and right now you look like a fire in a cold winter” he gets closer to you, and the gap between you disappears. “I mean, you are not just a record breaker, you radiate an energy that makes me... too comfortable for my liking”

“Are you…”

“I am serious,” he says, looking at your face, admiring all of your features. He knows you are cute, perfect, and talented. But now he realizes you are also sweet, you have a warm personality and a calm that surrounds you everywhere you go. “Talking to you made me forget everyone in the world knows my name, it’s like you are the only one who knows me”

“Like we know each other's little secrets?” you ask, reciprocating his feelings. Talking to him also made you forget about the millions of people who are listening to your music every night. That your face is on every little girls’ bedroom wall.

“Like we are each other’s secret” he whispers, so close his liquory breath tingles against your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please” you whisper too, your entire body is burning. What you said earlier wasn’t a lie, you don’t experience romance very often.

“So cute and polite” he rests two of his fingers on your chin to bring you closer. Steve gently presses his lips to yours, moving them softly as you catch up with his movements.

The kiss is slow, but your heart is beating faster than ever. You only get this feeling when you are on stage, he only gets this feeling when he wins. 

His thumb slides to your neck as his fingers rest in your cheek. Your face is between his hands, and you could swear you see stars, a glowing pink aura surrounding the two of you. This feels too good to be true.

When air is needed, both of you separate from each other. You touch his arm to keep him closer as he looks at your face, lips puffy from kissing.

“Guys! Pizza is here” someone inside the house screams, the scent of greasy food making its way to you.

“I don’t know about you but I'm really hungry,” he says, getting up and offering you a hand to help you get up.

“Me too” Your cheeks are still pink, he notices and almost falls on his knees at how adorable you look. You take his hand and get up, your chest bumps against his. 

“There is one thing everyone says and it's that you are beautiful” he looks at you with his pretty brown eyes.

“Do you agree?” you ask.

“You are fucking gorgeous”

You laugh, getting on your tippy toes to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“We are each other’s little secret, remember?”

You nod in agreement, understanding the secret bond you now share. Steve smiles and drops your hand, disappearing into the house. You let out a big sigh, you are so going to make a song about this, but for now, it’s a secret you’ll keep locked away from the world.

I hope you like this series, feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! . ♡

DISCLAIMER. you already know who inspired this, I want to clarify i mean no harm for the people in real life and what happens in this is just inspired by them, it's not based on true events. comment to be part of the tag list!

[galadrieljones]

I'm really curious as to your thoughts on Johanna being Emmrich's ex wife. I agree there seems to be deeper feelings that than he lets on. I was personally thinking unrequited feelings at one point on Emmrich's side. But I see him being a little too cautious and afraid of attachment to have been married before.

Hey!! I think that's a pretty good interpretation of Emmrich. My perspective is similar, just executed a little differently. I see having her be his ex-wife as accomplishing a couple different things. First, honestly, and this is just me, but I think it would be kind of funny lol. Like this just insane twist: We have this man who is so disciplined, so whimsical and stoic, but... he's got this thing that he's hiding. He's not ashamed of it. He just doesn't want to deal with it, especially if he's romanced. Like, at one point, he sort of humbly dismisses Rook as they're talking about their pasts. I can't remember when it was. Maybe the dinner date? He is like, "Let's just leave the past alone." Something along those lines. Having an ex-wife like Johanna Hezenkoss would have created a bit of crazy human drama imho, which would foil nicely with Emmrich's sparkly, romantic, magical air.

Also, it feels a bit like a missed opportunity to establish some sort of richer backstory for his character. At ~50yo, he is older than the characters we are used to meeting. And unlike characters who are in their 20s or even their early 30s, he's had a TON of experience in the world, and beyond the most obvious stuff, we don't know much. An ex-wife fills in tons of blanks for me. Like, I picture these two young grad students. They are swept away! by passion for the work, and for each other! Etc. Etc. Etc. (Note that I fell in love with my husband in grad school so I'm biased lol.)

Further, in my opinion, and because I'm always looking for patterns in character motivation, vibing with Emmrich's former marriage to Johanna might help us better understand his attraction to Rook. In my romance with Emmrich, I noticed that he compliments Rook on her sense of adventure, how she is well-traveled and interesting, and how he finds this to be exciting. It draws him to her. He has spent his entire life in Nevarra, and I understand why he'd be drawn to this kind of wild innocence. I'm sure, too, that Johanna, who kind of reminds me of Ghilan'nain, once had a similar quality that he liked, ie: unpredictable, interesting, adventurous. But unlike Rook, she let ambition get the better of her, and this would have probably spooked Emmrich badly, who is very pure in his pursuit of necromancy. He sees it as this beautiful calling, a gift, not a way to gain power. This would have disturbed him, and she may have viewed him as "too soft."

I see it like, if he were divorced, and his ex turned into this kind of monstrous person, this would definitely explain his hesitance with Rook, at first, and then later, too, when he's contemplating his mortality. Not that he thinks the same thing would happen with Rook, or even that it has anything to do with who Rook is, but just because being in a longterm relationship that's failed, this might have closed off his heart a little bit, damaged his trust in others and in himself, and hurt his ability to think in the longterm about love.

Anyway, this is just my opinion. And people are definitely free to disregard it. Maybe it's because I'm almost 40 lol, but I personally was just a little surprised they didn't at least pretend to go there with a 50yo man who's that charming.

[microwavesaferat]

This is a different topic than my usual stuff, but I was relistening to Epic: The Musical and wanted to talk about my personal interpretation of Calypso's character both within and out with the musical.

So a couple things to consider when going into this:

The original material and the biases/lense that it was created through

The long game of telephone that has moulded the current view of her character

The changes made from the Odyssey to Epic

In the original material, Calypso is trapped on the island of Ogygia for supporting her father, Atlas, in the battle between the Titans and the Gods. When Odysseus washed up on her shore, she took a fancy to him and proceeded to attempt to court him. She did not take no for an answer and in fact cast spells on him through song to force herself onto him. It is noted that, later in his stay on the island, Odysseus would spend most of the day crying on the shore before being forced into bed at night.

TLDR: in Greek Myth, Calypso is a horrible person.

In Epic, some liberties are taken for a multitude of reasons:

Dramatic effect

Narrative flow

Thematic storytelling

Making it more 'PG'

The big one here is the last point, although Epic covers a lot of violent acts and tough topics, but some aspects do need to be cut in order to not make the musical too graphic. For example, in the original myth, Odysseus and Circe definitely have sex, in fact, she has a child with him. So Jorge trimmed down the complicated relationship Odysseus has with Calypso, that is perfectly fine, in fact, it probably works better in the medium than being 100% accurate.

To talk about the version of Calypso in Epic; she was cast away as a child and naively fell in love with the first person she saw. My interpretation lies somewhere in-between these versions. I believe she was isolated on the island (something present in both), but I do not believe she was entirely well meaning yet harmful.

Calypso, at least in my eyes, became obsessed with the first contact she has had in a century and did, like a school-child, gain a naïve crush. But I believe she was cruel and manipulative to Odysseus and is not free of blame for what she did.

Based on the lyrics present in Paradise, she does not reveal her Godly nature until after Odysseus threatens violence if she does not leave him alone, this is a threat to him. She will play nice as long as he does, but she always has the upper hand. She also uses his friends' words against him to manipulate him (open arms), plus she almost completely ignores everything he says during the song to continue her fantasy of a perfect couple.

In Not Sorry for Loving You, she sings a very half-hearted apology that sounds like a YouTuber apology video where she apologises for how he interpreted her behaviour (I'm sorry if my actions offended some people), she blames her actions on her own problems (I've been having a real hard time you guys and wasn't thinking straight). My interpretation is that, she is (as she says) not sorry and is fully aware of what she did, just hoping he would believe that she was simply trying her best and that he would choose to stay.

An important factor that stops Calypso from being 100% awful is that she is a goddess with a skewed interpretation of mortality and of human emotions. She doesn't understand why this is such a big deal to Odysseus to be faithful and get home soon, they have all the time in the world. 7 years is merely a moment in her lifetime. It is also important to note the general reception to Calypso's actions at the time of the Odyssey. It was common for mythological characters to take war brides and the like in many Epics, even Achilles has a bride given to him as a spoil of war. The use of an action like sex in the Odyssey is to demonstrate a power imbalance and a sense of ownership. Calypso takes Odysseus like a spoil of war because he has lost and the Gods have won. In the Odyssey, Calypso does not do this because she is a horrible person, but because Homer wanted to demonstrate the loss Odysseus has faced.

I also find it weird that Calypso is brought up so much surrounding the topic of consent when, in the original myth, Circe does the same exact thing. In fact, it's like her main thing. She turns Scylla into a monster for being with a man she likes, she turns a king into a beast for noting accepting her courtship and has sex with Odysseus in exchange for help home, giving him a child.

The changes for Circe in Epic work because Circe's job in the story is to demonstrate Odysseus's wit and his devotion to Penelope, so she can still help him after he proves he's 'not like other men' (he's a monster rah rah rah). With Calypso, you cannot make it so that she respects his choice, or that would make for a pretty chill 7 years.

TLDR: In both the Odyssey and Epic, Calypso is more important as an idea than as a character. She serves to show how far Odysseus has sunk, lost the war and has been taken as a spoil, defeated and broken.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Do you know anything (or maybe have some headcanons) about Rohan’s wedding traditions? How do they propose to be married? What kind of wedding outfits do they have? Do they marry for life, or does divorce exist? Thank you so much! I so love reading all your musings about Rohan!

Thanks for this question, and for being so nice! I love to talk Rohan, so I appreciate the chance! ❤️

I’ve actually never written a Rohirrim wedding and there really isn’t anything to go on from the books/lore, either, so I don’t have a fully developed idea of what that would look like.

Off the cuff, I’d say weddings in Rohan probably vary a lot depending on the wealth, status, location, etc. of the couple. Rich people will obviously have a much bigger, more elaborate wedding, maybe with multiple days of feasting and revelry, while a poor couple has a simple ceremony and a little party. Someone from the far western borders might have different traditions, perhaps with some Dunlendish influence as they were direct neighbors and sometimes intermarried, versus someone in the Wold, which is all the way east, extremely rural and sparsely populated. There’s no official religion of Rohan or anything that might have imposed uniformity on all their rituals, so variety is the name of the game. But there would be some common cultural elements, like toasting and poems and songs, etc. All that ceremonial stuff is in the category of things I definitely need to think more about, though I’m also always interested in other people’s thoughts and ideas, too!

For proposals, I think it was a tradition for most of Rohan’s history (something they picked up from the Gondorians) for royalty and nobles to be guided into negotiated marriages that were considered strategically advantageous. (Marrying for love is one of the few privileges of the poor! They could just find someone they liked, decide between themselves that they wanted to marry and then move forward.) Arranged marriage is something I have addressed in my stories. I’ve written about Elfhild growing to love Théoden deeply over time but still always regretting a little that she didn’t get to choose him. Also, my Théodred HATED the idea of being forced into a marriage and held out against it, which is why he was still unmarried into his 40’s. He didn’t live to see that officially change (*sob*), but I think it did. Éomer makes it clear in ROTK that Éowyn consented to Faramir’s proposal — “she grants it full willing” — and if he had learned that personal autonomy was important for her, I think he’d want to give the same autonomy to himself, his children and others in the future.

As for divorce, there’s no evidence for it in canon (and I am CERTAIN that Tolkien would hate it) but I’m a big believer that divorce is one of the most important tools for the protection of women’s interests to ever exist. So I want it in Rohan! I have a tiny piece of a draft somewhere of Éomer’s wife (who is not Lothíriel in my fics, but a daughter of Elfhelm) being left to rule alone while Éomer is away on business in Gondor, and she essentially invents divorce while he’s gone by granting the plea of several women for the dissolution of their marriages to drunken jerks. Even though the husbands complain bitterly to Éomer when he returns, Éomer has learned some stuff through the years and backs his wife’s move. I’m not sure if that little idea will ever make it into a posted story, but it exists not just in my head but on my google drive!

Thanks again for being so kind! And if you or anyone else have creative Rohirrim wedding/marriage ideas, please always feel free to share them with me!

[dragon-queen21]

Hey I don't know if requests are okay or not but I have a request,baby Aether and dada Diluc hcs, again I don't know if requests are open for not if not then so sorry

Regressor Aether + cg Diluc Headcanons

Request are most certainly open! (as long as the inbox buttons says “requests” feel free to send me some :D same goes for any thoughts or ideas that you have. I tend to answer those a bit quicker just as an fyi)

Onto to talking about my favorite characters!!!

~~~

~Aether who’s a first like “I don’t regress that small” and normally he doesn’t when he’s with his sister.

~Only he didn’t take in account how stressed he’s been since coming to tevyat and how nice it is to finally be looked after by someone.

~First time Diluc takes care of him: Instantly baby space

~Aether has so many stuffed animals all in an attempt to keep the regressor from carrying Paimon around like one

~If he’s not being carried Aether will simply follow around Diluc like a baby duckling. Something that was definitely pointed out to the two of them when they went out to the city

~Diluc absolutely puts his foot down to Aether taking on commissions when he’s regressed.

~I like to think that in Mondstadt it isn’t uncommon to have people regress in public and when out a couple of times people have come up asking a favor of Aether who is clearly regressed and Diluc just loses it a little. Because really, can’t people solves their own petty issues?

~Diluc trying to teach the little one boundaries and learning how to say no. Simple things like choosing what to have to eat or what activities he wants to do. Because Aether really will go along with anything, and while adorable as it is his caregiver is aware of just how much Aether says yes to on more serious matters that wear aware at his health.

~Aether comes back from Liuye with a makeup pallet the consequences of which lead to Diluc going to work with red eyeshadow and sparkly eyeliner because he promised the little one he wouldn’t take it off for the rest of the day (He totally drags Kaeya into being Aether’s next ‘victim’ when his brother kept teasing him)

~ Aether working himself up into a near panic attack once because he wants to ask Diluc to be his caregiver because sure he hangs around Diluc small but it’s not like the man is his ‘official’ caregiver or anything. He is so scared of rejection. Which he would understand why Diluc would say no, because obviously he's hardly ever in Mondstadt, and the few times he is doesn't mean that Diluc would want to deal with a mentally two year old, let alone see him at all, and he realizes he is a lot to handle and his regression isn't always pretty and...(insert Aether spiraling for the next however long)

~Diluc meanwhile who just, already assumed he was Aether's caregiver. Just kind of took upon the role without asking. Like, he watches over the boy whenever he's around, has a box filled with toys and custom made pacifiers. Does... does that not count or...?

[drop--pop--candy]

hey! you! yes you! i LOVE pjsk ocs! please tell me about your unit!

hi hello thank you omg,,, first interaction ever and ur asking abt my lil guys,,,,, waow

SO!!!! the band's name is neon's ✧ glimmer and it's made up of four first years at miyajo (the girl's academy) :D most of their written lore is under their tag, and a couple shitposts are under the shortened tag "n✧g". i don't think the Original original lore post is under their tag (plus it was super confusing anyways) so i'll just summarize it here!!

basically, the story kicks off because Misaki Kaneko moves to the area and transfers to Miyajo. she bonds with one of her classmates, Maho Sasaki, over their love of music. the two of them decide to start a band, but they don't really have the skills to just be a duo so they basically plaster posters all over the school about wanting a drummer and a vocalist.

meanwhile, the actual leader of this group, Chika Fujiwara, has been doing covers online for more than a year now. her dream was always to be in a band, but it never worked out because people didn't like her/thought she was weird/etc, so now she's a solo act. her sister, Haruka Fujiwara, has been trying to get her back into the band scene, and when Haruka sees the flyers that Misaki and Maho have put up she thinks it's the best opportunity her and Chika are ever going to get. so she starts getting gradually closer with the pair of them, gently prying about what kind of drummer and vocalist they'd want, but never actually offering to audition.

through a sort of long and complicated series of events that im cutting from this summary for the sake of time, Chika is convinced to audition for the vocalist and she does so virtually, so Misaki and Maho don't know it's her (that girl in their class who's cold and doesn't have any friends). Maho and Misaki listen to the audition and decide they HAVE to have her, and Haruka auditions for drummer on the spot (she's with them because she's the one who put Chika's audition on their computer. but they don't know that lol.) and she also gets the part! now they have a full band yippee! just one problem; they have no clue who their singer is.

Chika arranges to meet them in front of Miyajo, and when they arrive, she reveals her identity to them and launches into a speech abt how she was really scared to do this but she trusts them and she can't wait to work with them-

-and Maho completely shuts her down. Maho places a lot of emphasis on community, and in her eyes, Chika doesn't have any. which must mean she's untrustworthy and did something to drive that community away. she rips Chika apart, and Chika runs away, not knowing what else to do.

Haruka (who Misaki and Maho did not know was affiliated with Chika in any way at all) is understandably really angry because she thought she could trust these people. she thought this was the best opportunity she'd ever find and it got so far just for Maho to crush it by being an asshole. she throws her drumsticks at Maho and quits the band on the spot.

Misaki doesn't quit the band, but she firmly refuses to take Maho's side and leaves her all alone in the school field with some harsh words.

i'll be honest i'm not super clear on how the band gets back together but they Do and that's the end of the main story HAGSHDGDHDH sorry this part is still in development. anyways i hope you liked this lil summary!! you can ask me to go more in depth about any specific part and i will :3 honestly just feel free to send any followup asks lol i love interactions with my ocs and also i think u are super cool for asking me about them even tho we have literally never talked before. im giving u a cupcake and a nice cup of tea. anyways thank u for the ask!!! remember to stay hydrated :D

[k9authorwolf]

Lucid Dreams- Bucky Barnes x Autistic!Enchanced!Reader (Part 02)

Part 01

Bucky sat on the stairs of his apartment building waiting for Sam. He had spent the whole night formulating an apology to his friend. It was more difficult than expected, especially since his brain kept going back to the memory of the dream he had.

Floating free through space, able to manipulate the heavens, being free from his nightmares and struggles. And that girl he saw. She was so beautiful. His heart fluttered like a lovesick schoolboy, he hadn’t felt like this in years. It felt nice. He wondered if he would see her again tonight?

“Thought you wanted to be left alone?” Sam spoke up, snapping Bucky from his thoughts.. He took a breath, Sam did try his patience but he was the only friend he had left. “Sam listen, I know what I said and, I’m sorry. I hadn’t had any sleep in weeks and I was frustrated. I know you wanted to help and in all honesty, you're more helpful than that fucking therapist.” Bucky expected Sam to say it wasn’t enough and walk off. But instead the new Cap patted his shoulder and smiled, “S’alright man, I know it can be tough. Had the same problems myself.” Bucky smiled, relieved he didn’t screw up. “Hey I’m supposed to meet Torres at a diner a couple blocks from here, wanna come?” Sam asked. Bucky nodded, “Yeah, sure.” The two walked and talked the whole way, when they passed a small coffee shop Bucky didn’t notice the pair of (y/e/c) staring at him through the window.

Image not mine

“He looks so much happier now.” She said quietly. The music playing through her earbuds shut out the overwhelming noise of people and espresso makers.”(Y/n)! Get those coffee beans roasted!” Her boss yelled. Thank god for the earbuds. “Don’t worry sir, I already roasted them. I’m just refilling the jars.” Her boss looked at her in surprise, “Oh. Well, good.” He left, leaving her to revel in her work. (Y/n) did most of the hard work at the little coffee shop called, “Zen Brew.” She mostly cleaned, refilled, and roasted. Sometimes she’d have to man the counter when her space-brained coworker came up with some lame excuse not to come into work. She liked the repetitiveness of her job. Course the noise was the only problem, if it hadn’t been for her earbuds or the wax earplugs she kept in her pocket she probably wouldn’t have been able to get the job. But she’d never tell anyone that, no they wouldn’t understand. Most people didn’t understand her love for simplicity. It was their loss.

She saw Bucky everyday, he’d walk past the coffee shop everyday at 10:38 in the morning. Like clockwork. But he always looked so sad, like a lost puppy. She could always tell when someone suffered from nightmares, it was a part of her….gift. And Bucky was suffering more than she’d ever seen. She wanted to help him. (Y/n) purposely bumped into him the other day so that she could leave her essence on him and bring him into the dream realm. And his dream was magnificent, she had seen the dreams of many people before. But Bucky’s was boundless. It was what she loved about her gift, to see the true potential and inner most desires of those she helped. It was rare for (Y/n) to help someone more than once and yet she wanted to with Bucky. Tonight she’d see him again.

“Wait wait! Let me see if I got this. Some chick on the street touches you once and you have this wild crazy ass dream and she’s there IN the dream?” Sam asked. Bucky had told him everything about that night. With all that they’ve faced in the past this wasn’t the strangest or weirdest for that matter. However Bucky did want an outsiders opinion. “No offense Buck, that's pretty freaky.” Sam stated. Indeed it was, Bucky wondered if she was enhanced like Wanda. If only she was here. “I know but it was like she was in control, like a Goddess or something.” Maybe Thor would have an idea. “Think she might be a threat?” Sam asked but Bucky shook his head at the idea. “No, I don't think so. It was like she gave me that dream, like she wanted to help?” Bucky’s heartbeast increased as he remembered her sweet smile, the glow of emotion in her bright eyes, her soft angelic voice. Sam noticed his far off look and smirked, “Got a thing for her lover boy?” Torres snorted a laugh as did Sam. Bucky rolled his eyes at their immaturity. What he didn’t tell them was that he was hoping to see her again that night.

And he couldn’t wait.

That night, for the first time in a long time he was excited to sleep. He hoped to be swept back into that endless horizon, free floating amongst the stars and heavens. And to see her again. He laid down and waited for sleep to embrace him. But it couldn’t happen soon enough, he was too excited like a kid laying awake for Christmas morning.

Then, he suddenly felt something warm against his chest. Bucky looked down and saw that same handprint from before, glowing a heavenly deep blue. His eyes felt heavy, tired. Like something had flipped a switch in his brain. It was strange, he felt as if something or someone was holding him. Warm and safe, she was calling him. And he didn’t want to keep her waiting.

    Opening his eyes he saw stars. He was weightless. He was back. Bucky looked around to find her again. He heard no music. With his thoughts he moved through the darkness keeping an eye out for her. He didn’t have to look for too long.

A cute sounding laugh reached his ears. He looked and saw her staring at him with a smile. He felt all giddy inside as he moved towards her.

“You!”

“Me.”

He slowed to stop in front of her. “I was hoping to see you again.” He said. She tilted her head, “Really?” Those eyes, god those eyes. The softness, the emotion behind them made him forget how to speak. “I-I wanted t-to thank you for the other night. For bringing me here.” But then she let out the most adorable giggle he ever heard. “Bucky, you made this all yourself. All I did was connect you to the dream realm.”

“Dream realm?” Sounded like something out of a fairytale or a wild fantasy movie.

“Yes, it is a realm not bound by time and space. A realm where the fabric of reality twists and bends. You are having what’s known as a lucid dream. You know you’re dreaming and you have full control.”

He was shocked. This was all his doing? He made this? “I created this?” He asked. She nodded, “That’s right. In the Dream Realm you can create anything, do anything. Go wherever or whenever you want. Give it a try, just think of a place you want to go and the Dream Realm will reform to be whatever you wish.” When she finished speaking Bucky only stared blankly at her. She thought she went too far, “Sorry I didn’t mean to ramble like that.” She wrung her hands together out of habit when she was nervous. She usually kept a lid on her rambling but when she was happy, she couldn’t help it.

Bucky however, only smiled. Seeing her eyes light up like that and that cute blush on her cheeks. His heart was one step away from flying off. “Sounds like you know this place like the back of your hand. Like a Goddess of Dreams.” Her blush deepend with a nervous smile. “I'm  n-no goddess.” She stuttered. “Could’ve fooled me.” Bucky charmed. She gave him a sweet soft smile.

“I-I’m (Y/n)”

(Y/n). Such a beautiful name, Bucky thought. “James. But everyone calls me Bucky.” They stared at each other for a moment before he thought to try what she recommended, “So all I have to do is think where I want to be and it’ll happen?”

“Do you have anywhere special in mind?”

He did. A place he wanted to see again someday. He closed his eyes and thought deeply. A faint breeze blew across his face and he felt himself slowly lowered to the ground onto warm grass. When he opened his eyes, Bucky was greeted by the peaceful sight of a Wakandan sunset. A sight he hadn’t seen since his recovery from HYDRA’s brainwashing. The African landscape was as beautiful as he remembered it. And yet with (Y/n) next to him, it didn’t hold a candle to her.

“Absolutely beautiful.” She whispered as she looked over the horizon to the low sun.

They both stood and watched the landscape for who knows how long until she broke the silence. “Bucky, it’s time.” She could feel the morning approach. Bucky wanted more time with her so he jumped into the deep end. “Can I see you again tomorrow night?” He was afraid she’d say no. Instead she smiled, “You may.” She reached out and cupped his cheek. His eyes closed at the contact. She kissed his forehead and once again whispered,

“Time to wake up.”

He felt that warm and bright light envelope him again, sending him back to the real world.

The morning rays greeted him. He lay in that nest of blankets smiling with joy that he’d see her again.

Bucky Barnes was in love.