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1117feverlessdreams · 1 year ago

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Mr.Write 📝 Right: Chapter 4

Masterlist

☑️🤍A/N: At first I was going to make this chapter the finale of this series, but I believe it's perfect right where it ends. To me, it's better fitting to just add a fifth and final chapter without cramming too much detail. Enjoy 🤍.

☑️🤍Word Count: 13k

☑️🤍Warnings: Self Sabotage, Struggles of Self Confidence, Depression, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Bullying, Angst Reoccurring trauma, Sexist/Misogynist Boss! Smut, Oral sex, Lots of Fluff, and Language.

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The two of you lay in bed on an Early Saturday morning, sheets in disarray as your limbs entangle.

Golden hues illuminate the bedroom from the sunrise, which is graced by sheer black curtains that shield the world from the inside, with color.

You awaken to the beaming blindsight of what or who’s in front of you. an Aura blurred figure moves closer to you, and the tender touch of warm cushion soft lips meets your temples.

“Wake up to the morning sun, a new day has begun, my adorable little seed.~”

An airy, sultry, deep, scratchy tone you recognized as Hongjoong's sing-songs the made up tune gently in your ear. More kisses against your temple follow with another chaste kiss, on the lips.

Your vision clears when his body absorbs the sunlight from behind, allowing you to see his beauty clearly from the front. Pairing perfectly with your given name, he is the epitome of sunshine. His white wild fluffy hair creates the appearance of a halo, like on the head, of an angel.

“Good mornin’ my angel~.” you said in the sweetest yet quietest throaty voice, it must have been the result of all that crying you’d done yesterday, not to mention last night.

In one of his most precious giggles, Hongjoong kisses the entirety of your face, then your neck, and then your shoulders. His lips remain cushion-soft, even in the early hours of the morning, and it nearly lures you back to sleep like a nice blanket from how warm they feel.

“Oh? I like that…angel huh?” Another kiss. “Did you know that you look absolutely stunning right now?” Another kiss.

In between each kiss, he admires all of you and continues the action on any visible space on your body. Hongjoong's sparkling, black, beady eyes absorb all of the flaws you think you possess, but under his gaze, you feel like the most flawless being he has the pleasure of seeing.

“Really? Have you had the joy of seeing yourself?” you retell and tilt your head mischievously.

After pulling his lips back from where they are resting upon your chest, Hongjoong gives a signature bright and pretty before stealing another kiss from your lips.

“I know what I look like in the morning, and let me just say, seeing you first thing, is a whole lot better my love.” Another kiss to the lips.

The gift of his kisses and worship makes you feel privileged to be wrapped up in such kindness. In some way, you had the impression that he would not be there in the morning, that his feelings had changed, and that he should not have committed any of the sexual acts with you last night in the vulnerable state you were in.

“I think it’s the same for me too. Maybe it’s something I could get used to…” you trail off, questioning more towards yourself than him.

Even with your doubts, he kept on reassuring you that what you did made him feel so amazing, and you’ve told him what he did make you feel something you’ve never exactly felt in your entire lifetime.

So you suppose every action was made properly, with no regrets. However, it still has you wondering about how the effect of the ‘deeper’ connection, has changed the status of your relationship.

“My love?” HongJoong says worriedly parting from above your lips. You blink rapidly to escape from the cage of overthinking, and into the present moment to focus on what he has to say.

“Yes?”, you quip.

He looks at your expression and flicks his eyes down to start playing with the strings of his hoodie you were wearing, wrapping the two threads around his white-painted fingernail. However, your eyes are most focused on the hesitant look on his gorgeous features.

“What do you want or need to do right now? I mean, moving wise. Do you want to go back there, your apartment?”

To be quite truthful, you are frightened of being alone with your mind, and Hongjoong is your healthiest fix for fear. He is your shield from the darkness, which you have yet to escape from completely.

“I’m not sure…but I don’t want to be alone right now.” You admit.

Hell, you’re supposed to be getting prepared for a day's work right now, but that isn’t an obligation nor a priority anymore. Staying in Hongjoong’s apartment would be the most reasonable option, but you have yet to ask him if it’s okay to invade his personal space like that.

“You know I don't mind you staying you know, if you want?"

It’s like he shares the same thoughts.

"Please?" You question in hopes of seeming like you’re not craving sympathy from him.

"How could I say no to you? Of course."

It was very easy to actually. You've received many forms of rejection in the period of your high school career from men, but you suppose graduation was the end of an era.

“Thank you so much. You really are an angel .” You whisper cautiously.

Hongjoong smiles cutely as he looks back up at you for a brief moment, but the twirling of his fingers around your hoodie strings comes to a stop and he looks hesitant to portray his true feelings once again.

"Hey-um, I have another one of those meetings later today...but I don’t know if I should go because, as you said you can’t be alone and you’re hurting. But that’s fine, I might have to do some convincing for a reschedule is all.”

The meetings he speaks of are; What Hongjoong has been attending frequently in hopes of beginning the processes of his rightfully owned writing establishment. One of which, he attended last week looking all dressed to perfection and gorgeous with those many earrings adorning his ears.

“It, it’s fine. You can leave and I’ll be fine. It’s not like you’re obligated to stay here, the meeting is mandatory for the sake of your future joongie…you should go.”

It’s taking everything in you to not make eye contact with him at this moment. What you’ve learned about Hongjoong in the past month and a half, is that he reads body language very well, and he’s low-key a mind reader. You can feel the energy shift as his head tilts to get a better angle at your hidden face.

With two curled fingers, he places them under your chin and slowly raises it to put your head back into place. “Listen, my beauty…can you look at me, please?”

Your eyes were cast down still, but that ‘my beauty’ made your stomach tingle, and you couldn’t help but want to look at him.

“The truth is, you’re hurting, and it hurts me too, to know that you’re unopenly hurting. So, don’t ever feel like that scarfing down your pain makes my life easier, because that makes things harder for us, and we’re in this together…right?”

Yet he can’t shine the way he wants to if you are keeping him in the darkness with you. His face implicates a want of confirmation, so you simply nod yes.

“We will be by each other's side, even in the future too, because we’re stronger that way. Together, forever?” He holds out his pinky.

He’s said to you before, that he’d be by your side, yet it seems to mean something entirely different now that you two are somewhat together unofficially, yet because of last night's events, ‘officially’.

You nod frantically and intertwine your pinky with his as tears start to trickle down your cheeks. It's too late to catch them when they fall before you can even try to soak them back up.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, but I need you to go, I know you’re gonna come back to me, but…I’m still gonna miss you so much,” you confess between sobs.

After unlocking the promise you two made to be locked away for the future, Hongjoong pulls you into a close embrace and squeezes your body tightly to his. The smells of him remain warm and sweet, even in the early hours of the morning, he forever remains the same.

“Call me, or text me whenever you need me, and I will try my best to answer right away. Okay, my love?”

You feel Hongjoong begin to stroke over your head, and your eyes flutter at how gentle and feather-like it feels.

“I promise that I’m going to be back here for you, and I’ll be with you. It’s only for a short while but, I’ll miss you just as much.”

Who knew that your presence to him was so valuable? Perhaps distance does make the heart grow fonder.

Hongjoong continues to stroke your head and time moves still as you lay there embracing each other for a few minutes.

“When do you need to leave?”, you blurt out.

He’s quick to move back and meet your eyes to stretch his plump pink lips into a fake smile.

“Just in a couple of hours.”

It's funny. He says it like a ‘couple of hours’ is a million miles away, but it’s coming up very soon, and he puts on a fake smile like he’s the most unaffected human being in existence.

“Oh, okay,” you say dryly. In the next second, you hide your face in the crack of his chest to listen to his heartbeat. It was a reminder that he is still here, okay, alive, and breathing…with you.

Another five minutes tick by and there are one too many emotions to focus on. That’s why the both of you just focused on holding each other’s bodies until he told you he had to let go.

“I’m going to take a shower, is that okay?”Hongjoong suddenly whispers into your ear.

It makes you curious as to why he would ask you if he can do something so essential as taking a shower, but you know that he knows that you have your final needs before you separate, and he’s adhering to them.

As you think of how to respond, you let out a struggled huff and further hide into his pillow-like chest in fear of the effect of your next set of words. “Can I join you?” Your voice is muffled, so it's hard to tell if he heard you clearly, or if you even wanted him to.

But it's confirmed that he, indeed, did hear you. A ring of silence, and not even a ‘huh’ to hear for you to repeat what you said escapes from Hongjoong’s bedroom.

He slowly parts your head from his chest, and you look at his face, which looks drained from color and vulgarly appalled from your point of view. “It was, just a joke. You don’t have to if…you know”

One of Hongjoong's brows quirks up in interest at your unfinished sentence, and you realize the dire situation you've put yourself in.

“I don’t mind, I would love it if you did actually. If you’re comfortable enough, you're more than welcome to join me in the shower.”

Having lost all color from your face, you are now the one appalled, not because you were disgusted, as you thought he was, but because he responded so directly. Did you seriously mean it? Would you like HongJoong to see your naked body again? Looking at his naked body again is very tempting…

“I-erm. It was, a joke, but, if you mean that- if you feel comfortable showing me your-I, I will… join you.”

Hongjoong's white-haired head falls forward and buries itself into a fit of laughter against your neck. When he gets ahold of himself he pulls away and an initiation of eye contact shifts his face into a deadly, sensual expression that makes you absolutely sick in the head.

“Wouldn’t you say we both got pretty comfortable last night? When we gave each other head, and the best orgasm of my life, butt naked?”

...

Okayyy, you didn’t expect him to say that either, and still so directly, but it is exactly what happened, and for him to commentate that as the best orgasm of his life is insane.

You were at first concerned that he would not like your lack of skills and knowledge gleaned from sucky pornos, nor how your bruised body looked, but those worries quickly dissipated when he kept telling you just how beautiful you were, from your scars and bruises and to the rest of you.

“Riiiight. Yeah-erm, I guess we did get pretty comfortable last night.” You chuckle and sit up awkwardly.

His sensual expression quickly converts into a worried one. “Well, I mean- yeah, I think we did. Did you-did you not enjoy it?”

Your eyes are blown wide and nearly out of the socket from the question asked of you. Your lips connect directly on Hongjoong’s lips and you spread it all over the rest of his face to cover up the disappointment.

“Of course not angel, I loved every minute of it!”You say with your hands on his cheekbones lips in very close proximity to his. “I just didn’t expect for you to mention it like how you did just now, I’m still too shy to talk about those kinds of things out loud~.” You pout.

Hongjoong puckers out his lips to connect once again with yours gently followed by a breath of relief mixed with soft laughter.

“You’re so adorable baby...I’m gonna, hop in the shower now.” He taps your hip twice and you maneuver off of him and back onto your side of the bed as you watch him make his way out of the room.

“Also, your offer is still left on the table, you’re very welcome to join me, my love.” He adds on.

Hongjoong farther stands away from you with a powered stance and then struts so sexily in his black boxers before he's completely out the bedroom door. Purposely, he leaves it wide open for your, closed-in curiosity.

In interest, you move to the edge of the bed, and you can see Hongjoong looking indirectly at you from over his shoulder. From his gorgeous feminine side profile, you can see an evil manly grin, slowly contorting on his face, and a swift motion of the removal of his boxers follows. A striking view of his entire body is revealed to you, all at once, yet again.

A heated blush covers your face as shivers tickle your spine, even the warmth of his fleece sunflower hoodie. “Holy fuck.” you whisper. You hear the shower water begin to resound off of his tiled shower floors. He hadn’t even closed the bathroom door yet either. His shower door slides before it closes.

With no hesitance, you arise from his bed and out of his bedroom, moving straight into the adjacent space of the bathroom open door, and you close it right behind you.

You look down to see his black boxers wrinkled right he dropped them on the floor. As you then look upward, Hongjoong’s body can be seen through the crystallized glass, a silhouette of a god-like body, resembles an art form of stained glass.

“Why are you just standing out there, when you can be in here with me baby? You can’t be afraid darling, we don’t have much time.”

With so much rigidity and depth to his voice, it was as though he was a predator deceiving his frightful prey that they would not be eaten with deceitful lies. In truth, all they wanted was an easy meal.

“I’m coming in, joongie…uhh…give me a second.”

You walk to his mirror and pull out of his hoodie, the only thing you had on after the events of last night.

The bar beside the shower has two towels atop of it, and you take one final once-over into the slightly foggy mirror before you step in the shower with Hongjoong. Like you did on your first date, you felt confident and proud of the skin you were in. Hongjoong likeness to it strengthens your own, and you couldn’t thank him enough for it.

You open the shower door and meet Hongjoong’s backside. His white fluffy hair was soaked and back to that dirty blonde. The muscles on his back flexed as he moved his fingers over his body showing his undeniable strength. And his ass? Marvelous. His muscular body turns completely at the hearing of your entry, and he smiles devilishly with a few hairs on his face.

“You are such a sight to see baby.” He purrs.

Hongjoong wraps his warm wet hands around your waist and pulls you into the stream of water.

He looks over your especially attentive expression, and onto your lips.

One of his hands moves smoothly across your back with the helpfulness of the water, turning your skin into silk, and his hand stops as it reaches behind your head.

He doesn’t force you to move closer, yet, he is the one inching forward as his eyes flicker up and down again from your eyes to your lips. When he acknowledges you’re not pulling away, he goes in for a sloppy French tongue kiss.

It’s so easy now to mingle into. You’re still learning of course, but somehow with the flow of the water, it calms your anxiety and makes everything feel so natural.

As natural as it is, to reach your hands down on his body, they travel from mountains of pecs, resting on the hills of abs, and to the final destination of his girthy cock.

Your hand squeezes half its length, the most you can fit in your hand, and you pump him slowly, sometimes faltering as he twitches at the sensation.

“Nnnya, baby, w-what are you doing?" He gasps. With no explanation, you push him against the wall and get down on both knees. “What does it look like angel? I’m just rustling with your feathers before a hard day of work."

The warm velvet texture of your mouth swallows most of his hard girthy cock, and you're nearly taking him down your throat as you pull on and off. Hongjoong’s hands move over and behind your head, and there’s no pressure, just gentle guidance.

“Oh baby~, hmmm, you’re so good for me darling. You’re learning so well already.” Hongjoong praises.

Just like the night before, his words of praise egg you on, and you moaned over him in response, swirling your tongue to taste more of him, and of course, a craving for more praise.

If he wasn’t certainly twitching before now, it’s more than obvious as you feel him jerk in your mouth.

“Fuck, h-how is it, that I’m gonna c-cum already? H-how are you so good…and you just started to learn l-last nnnight?” He whines.

You smirk and suck off of his tip for a few seconds and pull off completely to speak, your eyes are met with a sight of red burning skin on his face, and hooded dark slender eyes are firmly trained on you.

“Well angel, let’s just say I have a very, very fine, teacher.�� You quip.

Amid his reply, his open mouth shuts and he swallows deeply, before opening it again, to replace his voice with loud whimpers and whines. Hongjoong seems to enjoy dominating when he is pleasing you, but when you are pleasing him, he is more than satisfied to step down and be the dominated.

“Aughhh-fuck, baby, baby, baby.” Hongjoong tries to warn you as he taps on your cheek lightly with his other hand, and you know he’s about to cum, but that’s why you’re not pulling off. “My love, I’m gonna cum-darling. I, I’m serious please just, Aughhh…SHIT!”

Spurts of semi-thick liquid cover your throat and your moan over Hongjoong’s cock as he tries to balance himself from falling over in the shower.

After swallowing every bit you pop off his thick cock smiling widely up at him feeling very proud of your speedy learning skills. It was easy when you’ve read ten thousand dozens of books that give detail on how to suck off a guy and give him the best head of his life, but doing it takes real skill.

“How was that, Joongie?”

Hongjoong is still recovering above you while catching his breath with his eyes shut closed. He curls his four fingers and gestures for you to get off your knees. When you stand up and stare at his face in hopes of a positive answer, he half opens his eyes and swings your body smack against the wall.

The look in his eyes is so dark and dangerous. They’re usually lustrous, covered in a sheen of gloss. His eyelashes are long, pretty, and wet, and the weight of them pushes his hooded eyes down more than halfway.

“Are you mocking me, baby? You suck me off so good to the point that I’m crying out at how impossibly great you are, and then you swallow my cum without a thought but still, you wanna ask me-

How was it?”

Your tongue is stuck in place as you don’t know how to react to Hongjoong’s suddenly shifted tone of speech. “Let me make you whimper and cry with your sweet pussy in my mouth, and let’s see if you’re able to tell me ‘how was it’ afterward, huh?”

The next thing you know is that you are elevated higher in the walls of the shower and your thighs are on Hongjoong’s shoulders. His face is met with your pussy, and he’s licking his lips as if he’s preparing for a feast. “Woah! Joongie…I wasn’t mocking you, I just-”

“It was the best pleasure I’ve ever felt, love.” Hongjoong interjects.

“Now, I'm gonna return the favor.” He whispers his words, but it’s loud enough for you to hear over the streams of the shower.

His hooded eyes met yours for a brief millisecond and he dives straight in, sucking so harshly on your clitoris before flicking his tongue continuously from it to your hole.

“Joongie, wait!” All of a sudden your body begins to tremble, and your voice bounces off the walls.

Hongjoong grunts and flicks even faster, his tongue begins to swirl in circles as you feel him moan into your pussy from below.

Without anything next to you but more wall to grab onto, you go for his now dirty blonde wet hair. The strands have a weaker grip to them compared to when it's dry, but Hongjoong has a fine enough grip on your thighs already.

In the next minute, the insertion of two thick soft digits is swallowed deep by your walls, and the length of them penetrates at a normal pace against the sweet spot on the ceiling inside. The new angle is a very different feeling from last night.

His wet lips suction into your clit and he doesn’t let go as he continuously fingers the inside at a steady rate.

Okay j-j-joongie, I get it, I’m s-sorry!” A tear of joy slips down from the side of your cheek and Hongjoong smacks your ass evoking strangled gasps from your throat, and another tear drops.

It feels fucking divine besides the lingering sting, it’s like when you pinch yourself with a bruise, yet it's not placed on your body as a reminder of self-protection, but for an erection of additional pleasure- and sexual punishment.

Hongjoong pulls his mouth off your swollen puffy clit, but his fingers are still inside cooking up a bubbling mess of cum soon to burst out of you.

Another slap on your still-stinging ass rings out in the shower.

“I don’t think you get it yet baby. You don’t ever need to say sorry to me, okay? You’re ‘sorry’ because you’ve been caught, but you’re not ‘sorry’ for what you did to me, you're very proud of what you did in actuality, and you're not ashamed, not even one bit.” He smirks.

What he was saying was the hidden truth, and you were afraid to say it out loud because you’ve only been sexually intimate since last night, how extremely egotistical would it be to praise yourself on how great of a job you were doing?

“F-fine you got me. I was just tea-teasing you because I was proud of m-myself for making you feel so g-good.” you choke out.

Another firm slap to your ass rings out and you feel his fingers jump into an especially deeper sweet spot than before.

“You are such a good girl. That’s all I wanted to hear baby. Here’s your reward.”

Hongjoong takes the one hand that smacked your ass and onto your thigh, gripping it firmly, he slips out his two fingers to insert not two, but three whole thick fingers in your hole.

He’s motioning them animalistically up and down and directly rubbing against your sweetest spot as your body is jiggling along with the rhythm.

In the back of your mind, you're fearful of weighing HongJoong down with the possibility of him falling and you both being hurt, but he wouldn’t have done this if he thought he wouldn’t be able to manage.

“Aaaaah-joongie, I'm gonna fucking cum!”, your screams echo throughout the room.

Hongjoong stops his ministrations at your calls but hurriedly replaces his fingers with his mouth sucking the cum out of you. "Give me all that precious sweet cum baby." He mumbles into your cunt.

The brew that has been bubbling in your lower abdomen is served straight into Hongjoong's mouth at his order, and he's growling at the exploding orgasm as he licks and sucks it all clean until he's full.

When he’s finished, the two of you are breathing heavily in sync, and he lowers you slowly back onto the tiles of the shower floor. Your legs wiggle and shake as you try to stabilize yourself, but Hongjoong catches you before you fall, as always.

"I got it joongie, you don't need to hold onto me." You claim.

Hongjoong trusts you and lets go briefly, only for you to lose your footing and nearly crack your head open until he catches you once again.

"You sure baby?" he chuckles. You look at him with an annoyed expression before chuckling along right with him, "Let's wash you up properly darling."

He grabs a small towel cloth and washes the both of you up with no ‘distractions’ this time. As you exit out of the shower he wraps both of your bodies in drying towels and carries you bridal style into his bedroom.

The next 20 minutes are filled the both of you making out with you below him, and the towels remain, the both of you unspokenly shared the same idea it would be less provoking to accidentally do something you weren't ready for that way.

"You don't have much time sunshine, you should probably start getting ready now."

Just as always, you pull away first, but in worry about the fast passing of time, it won't be long until he has to go. Hongjoong eyes flutter open in confusion as he looks down at your worrying expression.

Hongjoong blinks a few times before slowly nodding, and rising off your body to sit upright on the bed. His head is cast down, and his hair flips forward as it is still slightly wet. "Yeah, you're right. I'm gonna..." he waves his hand in the air, "get ready now-I guess."

The bed squeaks as he gets up with his towel firm around his small waist, and he then walks toward his closet. He pulls out a black blazer with a small chain attached on the front, paired with black pants, a white button-up, and a small Christian Dior neck tie for accessory.

He was always one to effortlessly pick out a well-put-together outfit. But it seems that he was lost in his decision and thinking a little too hard about it.

"I think you would look professional and handsome in that angel. I would give you your writing establishment based on that alone."

He smiles and nods in your direction, then closes his closet door to gesture to the side drawer next to his bed.

"Thank you, love. There is a change of clothes in there for you. I'm gonna...get ready in the bathroom." He then walks out completely out of the room before grabbing a few jeweled accessories, and the tension feels so thick for some odd reason.

Maybe you pushed him away too harshly, but you rather him leave as soon as possible so he can come back as quickly as he can.

Unlike earlier, he closes the door, both to the bedroom and bathroom, and it makes you feel like an asshole for possibly hurting him. It wasn't your intention whatsoever, but maybe he took it that way.

There was an hour left until he had to leave, and you figured maybe you could make breakfast for him as an apology.

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Wearing a random assortment of clothes Hongjoong offered, you get out of bed, and walk inside the kitchen to see what he had in his fridge that you could prepare.

Your eyes travel from a carton of strawberries, and Nutella, then eggs, milk, and a can of whipped cream.

On the counter next to the fridge you spot a loaf of bread and a coffee maker.

Strawberry and Nutella french toast topped with whipped cream, scrambled eggs, and coffee it is.

You weren't the best cook, but that's three things of the easiest things you can make atop of your head.

As you get to work you can hear the blowdryer sound from the bathroom, it wouldn't be long until Hongjoong came out here so you had to get to work as soon as you could.

It was a sort of a struggle to remember where his pans or spatulas were, but conveniently your last visits consisted of him cooking directly with or in front of you.

Fortunately, breakfast was miraculously complete without the building burning to ashes, and you were topping off the whipped cream on the french toast and strawberries, then adding on drizzles of Nutella chocolate. You plate the eggs and pour the piping hot creamed coffee into a mug.

As if you were right on time, Hongjoong comes out of the bathroom, with 30 minutes left until his leaving.

He looked beautiful as always, and the way he powerfully struts down the hallway with a briefcase in hand made it seem as if he claimed his writing establishment already.

The whole demeanor of the man changes when he sees you with a deliciously prepared dish on the island where the two of you commonly sit and eat.

"Hey, joongie! I figured- if you had a nice home-cooked breakfast, you're meeting would go a lot better..."

Also

‘I feel like a jerk for pushing you away, once again, and possibly hurting your feelings.’

"Oh baby…Thank you so much, my love! (There’s your boy.) Really, you didn't have to do this."

He walks next to you to kiss the temple of your head and places his briefcase next to him on the floor. "This looks amazing darling, and you made it all by yourself? I’m so proud of you."

You blush and nod humbly before pulling out a seat for him. He accepts your gesture and looks over your self-prepared dish with a pleasantry of surprise on his features.

"This is all made by me, only for you, angel." You kiss his cheek promptly and pull out the seat next to you.

"I will eat this deliciously then." he declares. He picks the fork and knife up on the plate, and your anxiety picks up at an all-time high.

He first digs into the strawberry-nutella french toast, one of your parents' specialties, it's so light and perfectly sweet, a childhood staple of yours. He takes the first bite and chews, chews, chews as he drifts into space.

This feeling of anticipation is like one of those competitive cooking shows where they take a long time just to give you a simple response in how the food tastes, and oh goes it irritates you when they go on a commercial break. "So-

"What the hell? Hongjoong exclaims. This is one of the best things I’ve ever tasted…how'd you come up with the recipe?”

A huge breath of relief expands out of your mouth and you let out a small giggle.

"It comes from my parents, I loved having it for breakfast growing up."

He nods before taking another bite, and then another, after another, until it's completely gone.

"If I had that when I was growing up as a kid, I would never leave my parent's house." He says and tries to lick up most of the remaining whipped cream off of his mouth.

"Oh honey, if you still stayed with your parents at 25, I don't know if we would be here right now." You both giggle.

As another, ‘please forgive me I do care about you’ gesture, you dab off the small bit of whipped cream with your thumb, but then you come up with the mischievous idea to place it into your mouth in the same thought.

"Honey? That's a new one...I like it." he overly clears his throat.

Hongjoong had paused his eating and watched your every movement carefully. He begins to shift and blink rapidly as he tries to make himself comfortable in his seat.

If you were the innocent virgin people thought you were, that maybe even Hongjoong even thought you were, you probably would have not understood what is occurring in his pants now. But that isn't you, and so you make more of the situation at hand.

"It's only because you're so sweet, and you told me you'll always ‘stick’ by my side, my love~."

It’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself as his eyes flutter, and averts to sip on his coffee too then stabs into his eggs.

Hongjoong chokes up and shifts even more now. “That’s right, and I will keep that promise, as long as you’ll let me stay by your side.” He tries to wrap up the conversation quickly.

You take the hint and make the decision to end his sufferings, and stop your teasings because you don’t exactly have the time for part two of ‘The Shower Sequence’.

There were 10 minutes left for him to walk out the door and head to his meeting on time.

Both of you slowly rise after eating and awkwardly banter over who will take his plate and put it in the sink to wash later.

Inevitably, you win the banter as time ticks and flies away, and now the two of you are standing face to face at his door.

“Well. I guess this is goodbye for now…” you trail off.

Hongjoong stares deeply into your eyes, and for the first time, he forcibly pulls you forward into his chest and encloses the awkward space you had between one another.

“I, I am so thankful for you and I will miss you in every second. Everything will work out in our favor soon, trust me, you’ll see.”

You wonder what he has planned, or the meaning of what you two are now. But you hadn’t questioned it, however, when he leaves, your curiosity will eat you alive.

“I’ll miss you too angel. I know you’ll make a great impression in your meeting no matter what. You leave a blessing on everyone you meet, including me.”

As you learned from your mistakes before you equally embrace him, and reciprocate the hug to not diminish the seriousness of the moment, and it’s deeply appreciated as you feel Hongjoong pull you impossibly closer.

“Remember, you can call, text me, contact me in any way you know how, whenever you need, and I will try my very best to answer you, my love. If you get hungry, I can deliver you something to eat, or if you can find something in the fridge that works too.”

He’s said this multiple times over breakfast but you still aren’t taking it very well.

“I know…I know, and I understand joongie. I will contact you, whenever I need, but the same goes for you too okay?”

You begin to gently stroke his freshly washed white hair as he silently nods his head yes, and the sudden blare phone alarm goes off, crushing the sweet moment.

It was a scheduled reminder for him that it was officially time to go. Now, a reminder for you both, that is time to separate.

Hongjoong puts on another one of those “everything is gonna be alright” smiles and grabs onto both of your hands, swings his and your arms back, and forth.

“I promise you that, I’ll contact you too, you have my word. Please tell me that when you do, you won’t think of yourself as a burden, or that you’re getting in the way of things.”

He’s stalling and you know it. But he’s right because you would see yourself in that way. You nod your head yes as you continue to swing your arms together.

“Yes sir, I promise.” You say annoyingly in a sarcastic manner.

Hongjoong quirks a brow at the title, and you smack his hard chest which he took advantage of, and cup his face into your open hand just as you did at the rink.

“I think…

I’m falling in love with you.”

…

The beating of your heart is irregular, and your tongue is twisted from the abundance of words you want to confess. I mean, you used to be in love with the idea of being with him. But now, you are falling too, and hard. It’s weird because you’re usually keeping afloat all alone. You’ve never ‘fallen’ with someone before, and so now you are afraid to hit rock bottom.

“You don’t have to say anything now, I understand.” Hongjoong smiles.

He calmly takes away your hand from your face, and heads behind you toward the door, your frozen still in shock as your eyes now connect with your painting on the living room wall.

A much-needed refresher for a clouded mind. Its creation is a symbol of Kim Hongjoong to you. He has filled your life with sweetness, light, and fulfillment. He certainly doesn’t deserve a second of silence.

Another thing you realize is that he doesn’t pull away first. It’s mostly you always, and you wonder if he’s doing that to make you feel comfortable, or he truly doesn’t want to let go.

“Wait.” You say with your back still facing him.

Hongjoong stops and turns three-quarters of the way with his briefcase in hand.

“Just give me more time on that okay?” You add on.

Hongjoong gives you a firm nod, one that you cannot see. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

As he walks out of the door, you finally turn to lock it behind him until he places a foot between you and it, with his face not even an inch near your even more shocked one.

“Take all the time you need, and I’ll still be here. Together, forever.” He holds out his pinky.

You take your hands off the lock and wrap your pinky around Hongjoong’s.

“Together, forever.”

And with that Hongjoong's pinky slips out the door, and his foot slithers out carefully. The door closes with a click and then...

silence.

Without Hongjoong, it's completely, pen-drop, silent, and ironically, you are apart from him after your promise.

You stare at the frame of the doorway, wafting in his scented perfume, remembering how not even a minute ago he was directly in front of you, and how in that same amount of time, maybe less than, he had to leave you behind.

It's not like you've forgotten how to be alone. You lived by yourself for so long. But finally sharing a space with someone, and for it to be ripped away when you need it most, makes you forget what to do with yourself.

Until then, all you had to do was figure out what to do inside his apartment for the next few hours, that is productive and useful, rather than waiting for him at the door like a house dog with separation anxiety.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

Fast forward, It’s been one whole hour or so, since you've been alone.

So far, all you’ve done is listen to a random collection of Hongjoong's albums. Most of which, were love songs about isolation and loneliness, so it was unconventional for a distraction.

The most you could give yourself credit for is washing the dishes you used to prepare Hongjoong's meal he ate earlier. It's the only thing productive task you've done in the time you’ve been alone, so far.

Right after he left you wandered back to his bedroom to snuggle and sniff his side of the bed.

Even in the moments after that, you were still so starved of him that you fished in his clothes hamper to throw on the hoodie he'd given to you in your car.

The embroidered words you recognize when you find it mocks your hungered state like a punch to the gut.

'Even on the darkest days, I will stand tall and find the sunlight…and yet your 'sunlight' has shined his light elsewhere.

It’s not like it was inevitable to escape from it, the darkness. This entire space you were in completely belonged to him, so winning the fight was never guaranteed.

It was such a huge difference between him being physically present, and the objects he owns sitting still to remind you that someone you hold dear to you is usually physically present.

A Home without an owner, is just a closed-in box with rooms, whereas with an owner, its provided life and personality, and so when their presence leaves its proximity, it becomes lifeless and bland.

It’s just like how you felt without him after your first date when you got home.

You've never felt lonelier, yet it accompanied the realization that you have no habits outside of erotic, sexual fantasy novels and online writings.

Hongjoong had and has been the most eventful and impactful thing in your life recently, and it makes you figure that maybe you’re too dependent on him.

However, your devotion transpired from the first time he swung in that door like Spider-Man to save you, his own Mary Jane, from a villain during that dark night at a party in high school.

Or the second time, with finding out that villain all along was your...‘ex-boss?’

Only two of the multiple reasons you are constantly pushing, declining, and saying sorry so often, (even though he deemed it unnecessary.) is because you’ve been deeply in debt to him, and you feel as though you are long overdue on your bill.

So first, you suffice for cleaning his entire apartment. You won’t move around things in any way, but sweep away the dust, wipe things down, clean the dishes, and make up his bed so he’d have a clean space to come home to.

It certainly took things off your mind for a while, and you are very proud of what you've accomplished.

But then you had nothing to do once again, and it was now early in the afternoon, and Hongjoong still hadn't come back yet.

Maybe shooting him a text wouldn't be so bad…

You: Hey angel, still missing you over here lol. How's business going?

Many minutes stroll on by with no reply from him. If you weren't checking every minute it wouldn't have felt like many hours.

So what else could you do?

You can watch TV, even though you would hardly pay attention to it with so much on your mind.

Maybe…just maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to check if there is a second chapter of Lucid Dreams.

Just as a little something to help you get by... it’s not perverted really if you’re 'unofficially-officially' together.

(and give each other the best head you’ve ever had. Well the best for him, but the best and the first for you.)

So would it be that harmful to lay on his living room couch right now in this clean quiet and open space, and relieve yourself of the need Hongjoong can’t physically give you right now?

Your eyes avert to your phone you threw on a pillow in frustration 1 minute ago, and you snatch it into your fidgety hands to open the site of the NSFW account.

It’s so easy to find it now, if you type one letter into the search bar, it automatically shows up. It’s not surprising given the the multitude of times you check for updates on a daily, or re-read the first chapter.

@lemontree1117, 'When Life Gives You Lemons, Write About Lust.'

To your great surprise, another writing of lust was published by user @lemontree1117 two days ago, during the night of the harsh truth. The timing of it couldn’t be any more perfect.

It’s been a few days since the lucky librarian has gotten the orgasm of her lifetime, and she’s been craving for more ever since.

In every minute of every day, her legs ached painfully, yet somehow to her, it was, at the same time, pleasurable. It was all she ever wanted in her love life, a hint of spice.

Even more so, the night of the event was romantic in the morning of. A shiny silver platter was what she woke up to that morning. Right next to the millionaire journalist and having breakfast in bed sided with a large bouquet of flowers.

Speaking of rich million journalists, Chris had 'mysteriously' disappeared, and had been seen nowhere at the library, coincidentally also for the past few days. It’s dawned on the sweet librarian that she might have been condensed to a “hit and run.”

She knew where he lived, but even given that benefit, she wouldn’t dare expose him in that light, she was bold inside of her books and dreams of erotic fantasy, but not that bold to bang at someone’s door to fulfill her sexual needs.

When business wasn’t busy, she attended to her novel books as always, but for some odd reason, a simple sentence took 10 minutes to read. Her focus was in and out even with the help of putting on her glasses.

Thankfully, her shift was coming to an end, every book was checked on the shelves for replacement, damages, or lost in her list, and the money register was locked for safety. All she had to do was lock the entrance, outside, in the dark.

It was scary sometimes, but living in a suburban area made it less terrifying with lesser crime rates, but there was never a 0% chance of something happening. Hell, if they were rich, they could easily pay someone hush money, maybe even her boss, the owner of the building, the coward.

It’s strange, the commonality between the librarian's boss and yours, ex-boss, but you haven’t exactly put your 'two weeks' in yet. The fears of the dark, and what lurking in it, every detail is almost triggering, yet you are only in it for the smut, 'just ignore it. and move on.' you think.

Upon walking down the street to her car she passes every building with alleyways in between. College houses, apartments, and fancy bars, it was almost odd to throw a quiet library in the bunch.

“Hey pretty lady, what are you doing walking by yourself in the dark?” a husky voice speaks out. Their shadow was nothing too familiar, but their voice was, somehow. A cloud of smoke makes shapes and blends into the thick night air.

Pretty lady…?

“Chris…please tell me that it’s just you hiding in the dark over there.”

A chuckle echoes in the alley. “Yeah Angel”, he throws down the cigar and stomps it out, “Of course it’s me, I recognized you by the way you were walking all funny, it seems like your legs still might be sore from a few days ago.” He says cockily.

Chris intended to use ‘angel’ to commentate on the librairian's false portrayal of innocence, but for you, it was to adorn Hongjoong’s purity, because he's your perfect person, who saves you from life's tragedies.

The librarian then rolls her eyes and continues her journey of walking as she moves further down the sidewalk to finally reach her car shining in the streetlight. She makes her way to the driver's side of the street and opens the door, Chris follows in pursuit.

“Look. I gotta go, it’s my bedtime, Chris, I’ll see you soon. Maybe in the library if you decide to show your face, or even call me on the phone for that matter.” She mumbled the last few words before entering her car and sitting in the driver's seat.

Chris knocks onto the passenger side window with one balled-up fist and holds and waves for the librarian's attention. “C'mon Angel, I had some business that I needed to take care of, don’t be like that.”

At that, the librarian rolls down the window in reply. “Don’t tell me how to act, or what to be, when you ghosted me and screwed me over. Literally! And you know what-“

The librarian continues on and on from the events of that morning and gets back out of the door in the street. Chris does his best in trying to calm her down. “Angel, listen-

“There you go again, telling me what to do!” The librarian exclaims.

A car down the street makes a turn off the corner from the couple's point of direction, and it’s picking up at full speed. “No baby seriously, you have to listen to me right now Angel. You gotta move, there’s a car-”

“Oh now you’re worried about me, and my safety, how cute. Where was that the past few days Chris, huh?”

“Angel I’m sorry just-please, move!” The car gets closer and serves in the street picking up uncontrollable speed.

“See how angry you get when I ignore you, imagine how I’ve been for the past FEW DAYS.”

“ANGEL GET OUT OF THE DAMN WAY BEFORE YOU GET RAN OVER!” Chris shouts.

“WELL LET IT HIT ME, IT’S NOT LIKE YOUR CARE ANYWAY!” The librarian shouts back.

A blinded ray of light infiltrated the librarian's eyes as she stood there in shock, Chris wasn’t lying, and she would’ve heard the squeak of the tires swerving against the pavement if she could hear over her screams.

“Dammit Angel!” The librarian felt an impactful collision and heard the sound of two cars crashing. She was breathing heavily with her eyes closed, and a heavy weight was felt over her body.

“Shit...am I dead? The librarian heaves.

“No, I saved you. You would’ve though, taken a good look at your car.” The journalist speaks from beside her, the heavyweight that held down onto her body.

It gave her room to check the status of her car. It was easily destroyed with the bumper hanging for dear life, and the driver's side door came off completely. The presumably drunk driver, thankfully comes out of the car a coughing and hurling mess.

“Well. There’s my way home.”

“You can ride with me Angel…after a trip to the hospital.”

Chris and the librarian came out of the hospital after taking many health tests, everything things turned out fine, there were a few scratches and bruises, and they were prescribed a bottle of painkillers.

The police also had there discussions of their recalling of the situation with both of them, and it was confirmed the driver who crashed into her vehicle was drunk, and a DUI and a paycheck to the librarian was the consequence.

At last, the librarian and the Journalist made it back to his penthouse loft, a place of reverence and semi-bittersweet memories. “Thank you, for saving my life. You're my hero.”

Like Hongjoong was yours. Your sunshine, your hero, angel, and light.

Chris walks up to the librarian and cradles her face to place a sweet chaste kiss to get lips. It was non-lustrous and careful as if she was a piece of shattered glass. “Don’t ever do that again okay? Not with anyone, or anything.”

The librarian nods and rashes her fingers through the back of Chris’s head, “I promise”.

Chris wraps his large hands firmly around the librarian's delicate waist as he collides their bodies with no space left between them, and encaptures her lips whole as his tongue remembers every part of her mouth.

The kiss grows deeper, passionate, and sweet, with a small hint of that spice. Their bodies stumble into the bedroom and onto the bed, never disconnecting.

Clothes are off and thrown onto the floor, there were some moments when they had to separate, but after they stuck to one another like super glue.

Chris Hongjoong rests above the librarian's body as he shifts forward to align his cock with her cunt, and immediately dives deep. The pace he moves is so slow and steady that it burns so good as it stretches her out as it did the first time.

It nearly feels better than ramming it to her, but the thrill doesn’t equate, yet the connection is much stronger.

“Augghh have mercy… has anyone ever told you how amazing you are both the inside and outside angel?” The journalist groans.

“Nope. Fu-hmmm just you Christopher Hongjoong.” The librarian giggles, which is followed by a whimper as she feels the journalist drags his clock deeper purposely making her toes curl.

He continues at the same pace with the need for release becoming all too difficult to keep in. “I’m gonna cum, and you're gonna take it, like the cum slut you are. Okay, angel?”

The librarian nods hurriedly, and wraps her legs around Chris’s Hongjoong’s slender waist. “Y-yes sir give it to me like the cum s-slut I am.”

A hot breath of air heats the librarians back as the journalists chuckles, “Your so desperate, but if that’s what you want…”

Ropes of white shoot out of the journalist's cock and into the librarian's stretched pussy. Upon pulling out there had been some that leaked but Chris was sure to scoop with his tip every bit back in to where it rightfully belonged.

The librarian and journalist cuddle into the expensive silk bedded sheets with their still naked bodies.

“You’re mine now, and I’ll do anything to never hurt or leave ever again, and I swear by that.” Chris whispers.

THE END

As much as the story partially satisfied your need for stress relief, it induced some as well.

It was nearly exact in relation to the life you are now living, which is helpful in some areas but it makes you miss Hongjoong even more.

You place your phone back onto the table and roam the kitchen for some snacks.

Simultaneously a double ‘RING’ sound emits from your phone with the jumping wave of vibrations.

Never in your life have you raced to your phone so fast, and it was all because you knew exactly who it could be.

Boss: Hey Y/n I’m worried as to why you decided not to show up at work today without prior notice. Was it something I said on Friday?"

Boss: Let’s meet up and talk about it at the office, this isn’t like you at all.

…

What a fucking mood killer.

Like he knows you ‘at all’ really. He doesn't recognize that you'd met years ago at the party, but even then you didn't get to have a proper greeting to another.

He just went straight to what he wanted, and how he was going to get it, with or without your consent.

You don't even click on his message at the risk of him seeing that you saw it. At the risk that he might make a move to find you because you are avoiding him.

Which isn't a lie because you were.

Your phone vibrates from another message from someone who is always on time to your rescue, and even saving the day at this very moment.

Hongjoong: Baby~ I miss you so much T.T.

Hongjoong: I apologize for not answering you sooner, but my schedule is finally done for the day so I’ll just tell you everything when I get back home!

[ Home: A place where we feel most comfortable, loved, and protected. Whether it's a person, place, or thing, it’s where we rebound to, when life gets unbearable. ]

Two more ‘RING (S)’ and vibrations surge through your phone.

Hongjoong: I hope you’ve been good, I’ve got some some delicious food, for the both of us.

Hongjoong: Let’s eat together when I get there love.

You: Sure thing honey, Be sure to come back home quickly please~

When Hongjoong came back he burst through the door and sat the takeout quickly on the table as he picked you up from the couch with you ‘spider monkeying’ on him.

Repetitive kisses, hugs, and looks of adoration were shared between you two, and it only had been a few hours since you were apart.

In keeping with your previous discussions Hongjoong brought home a meal that you had desired to try in the past, and just like every meal you shared, it tasted delicious and exceeded your expectations.

He was overall just very attentive, and he even noticed your cleaning and dusting of his apartment.

He also bought cake for dessert, in celebration of the business meeting going so smoothly.

"It looks as if I might become a CEO one of these days. They want to see me every single day this week to make business plans!" Hongjoong exclaimed.

You were so thrilled to hear such news, but the message you received earlier made you wish for him to just be around all the time.

But how could you bring it up now when he's in such a positive mood?

After a delicious meal, you talk about each other's days at the kitchen island as you sit on his lap.

Both you and Hongjoong's attentiveness is at an all-time high, which is perfectly fine because that’s what you’ve both been needing throughout the day…especially for you in the last couple of moments before he arrived.

The night ended just as the day started earlier in the shower. Rather this time, the two of you did it in his bed. You don’t think his or your thighs could power through that way again anyhow.

…

"My love? Love, can you wake up for me, please? Darling…Baby?"

On your side of the bed, Hongjoong stands and hovers over your relaxed body calling you all your favorite pet names as you awaken to the sound of his sweet honey voice.

"Hm? Good morning to you too joongie. you smile widely, reliving the intensifying pleasures of last night. “I’m still kinda sore, I think?" you laugh.

You make grabby hands for him to get ahold of and join you in bed, but he isn't making any movements whatsoever, and his happy-go-lucky features disfigure in concern as his hands fumble behind his back.

“Can we, talk?" Hongjoong asks.

You sit up and nod slowly in response to his out-of-the-blue inquiry.

This is a question that scares you and could be answered by a collective of many responses. What if he discovered your true identity, and what you have been hiding from him? After all, you have gotten so comfortable with him that you have given him something to base his speculations upon. Speculations that can cause you to be apart from each other. For good.

Hongjoong releases one of his hands, scratches the skin of his neck in nervousness, and then brings the other one forth.

What was in his hand was something you didn't expect...

your phone.

"I just came up here to ask if you wanted to go to the cafe to get coffee and walk around the park to get some fresh air. But then as I walked in here to wake you, I saw 14 text messages and 6 missed calls from a contact named Boss."

Shit.

You take your phone immediately to see that just this morning, he sent you 14 messages and called you a total of 6 times.

Yesterday it was just two simple messages, and because you ignored him he decided maybe blowing you up would bring clarity? You were gonna tell Hongjoong soon about the first two, but you just didn't know when, or how. But you guess when everything lets itself out to be discovered in the open when it's time.

"I was...going to tell you-but you were so happy yesterday, and I didn't want to ruin that for you." you explain.

Hongjoong looks at your phone in your hand intensely and shakes his head.

"My love... I'm more upset that he's bothering you rather than you telling me about him bothering you. We need to report him and bring him down immediately. Things, are getting out of hand."

The thing about monsters is that they are easier to fear than confront in the dark. However, there is a limit, before it becomes too much. Then you, the victim, have to become the monster and use their evil tactics, to scare them away.

"You're right. So…what should we do first?" you asked.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

And that's how Plan "Sexist-Mysoginistic-Dickwad-Takedown or Plan (SMDT) for short, was created on the walk to the park that morning with both of your matcha green lattes in hand.

At one point Hongjoong stopped, to take a turn to his original point of a beautiful walk in the park.

He led you to a nearby bench that was unexpectedly under a special tree.

A lemon tree.

In a way, it was as if everything was coming full circle to allow you to openly reveal all your secrets to your boss, about who he was before he was your boss, and to Hongjoong, about the erotic fantasies you had of Hongjoong.

Speaking of, when he left again for another meeting that very morning and the rest of the ones think the same week after it, Plan (SMDT) started to arise in action.

After the plot of every day's agenda, you could tell by how tired and burned out Hongjoong was that it'd been eventful.

He was battling his meetings for his establishment, while simultaneously following the agenda of your boss's "Takedown".

But he always made time for you as if it was lightwork.

"All you have to do is tell your side of the story."

Hongjoong had said this when you asked him about your part in this. He handed you a tape recorder and that was the end of it.

Neither of you had ever complained or expressed concern when you shared a meal, watched a movie, listened to music on the couch, and on the calmer nights, cuddled in each other's bodies and watched the sparkling moonlight shine.

Even more so, there was extra kissing, touching, rubbing, sucking, licking, and hugging, and exploring new experiences in bed.

But you had yet to spend a day outdoors. To be able to guess what Hongjoong does in a day because he tells you he has it 'under control'.

You were still so paranoid of your ex-boss and attacker finding you. He should’ve put two and two together by now. But then again he could be unbothered and oblivious.

However, he could know, and be watching you when you least expect it.

Just maybe, he knows what Hongjoong looks like from all his hard work, and has become fairly aware of Plan (SMDT) by Hongjoong publicly doing whatever he’s doing.

Your boss could be following him, every day to his meetings, and back home in hopes of getting to you because you couldn’t be found at your apartment.

Thankfully, It all comes to a stop on that Friday evening.

A day that used to be the happiest because, one, you could pause all your duties for work on the weekend, well, when you had a job anyway, and two, you get to pick out a lucky 10 selection of books to bring home with you to explore for the entire next week, when the library was open.

Both joys have been taken away, and now the only thing you're anticipating is news from Hongjoong about the meetings and, If Plan (SMDT), is close to completion.

Your boss was leaving for Japan tomorrow and you hoped Hongjoong had acquired something useful before it was too late.

A click at the door acknowledges you of the exact person you were thinking of.

"Baby, you won’t believe what happened today..."Hongjoong says as he enters through the front door. Usually, it was an ‘I’m home!’ or ‘Baby, I missed you~’. in which you were greeted with.

You stop the A Fool's Garden "Lemon Tree" record and pat the space on Hongjoong's couch for him to comfortably tell you all the details.

"Everything okay?" you asked in a worried tone, and began your adapted daily routine of rubbing onto his tired body.

Hongjoong groans at your touch and leans into you in chase of a deeper feeling.

"I would assume so. You-ahh, you remember Park Seongwha right?" Hongjoong asks softly.

Hongjoong's friend. The one who had invited you to his house party in high school that night…How could you ever forget?

"Of course I do. What about him?"

You didn’t mean to sound careless, but you were genuinely curious about how he might be involved in the plan.

"Well, Seongwha, is a public prosecutor now- and he decided, mmmh, to help us out. He says you inspired him because he felt obligated to help other people, in the way he failed to help you."

You immediately pause in massaging Hongjoong's body in the realization of what he was saying.

Although the determination Seongwha has is heartwarming, it's depressing to take on the burden of someone else's heinous crime, when you never thought it would happen in the first place.

You remember Seongwha, as a huge people person, he didn't belong to one particular group or category, he fit into all with his additional grace and that's what made him so special.

Prior to that night, you’d have never been to one of his parties, but you'd always hear about how amazing of a host he was. That's why you trusted him without the thought that anything worrisome would happen to you.

"It wasn't his fault. He is not the right person, to take any kind of blame."

Hongjoong sighs heavily and slouches deeper into the couch.

"I tried telling him that, but just like me he’s stubborn, and to this day, he’s still taking it pretty hard."

He then rises forward to sit up and lay his briefcase on the table. Inside it, is his laptop, and lays down a USB drive beside it.

“What’s that?” you ask.

Hongjoong picks up the drive and twirls it between his fingers like it’s a historical golden treasure that makes anyone a billion times richer.

"All the dirt he tried to wash away from that night until now, is recorded on this drive. Do you think, that you are mentally prepared to handle that right now darling?"

Hell yeah, this is what you've been waiting for and more. Although you have played a huge part in it, you are not the only victim of his recklessness, not the first, and who knows about the last. Altogether, it's a lot bigger than just you, and the secret he's held captive will be shared with many others.

"Im ready."

Hongjoong places the drive into your hands.

"You can do the honors..."

With no time wasted, you insert the drive and a file appears thats titled; ‘PLAN SMDT’. You double-click on the file, and a video thumbnail enlarges onto the screen with a play button in the center. Beneath it you assume a person to be Seonghwa, and by the looks of it sitting across from an empty chair on a desk, in a federal office.

You flex your finger above his mouse pad in hesitation punching your eyes shut to take a deep breath.

With a quick jab of the tip of your pointer finger, the video plays and you hurriedly rush back into Hongjoong's arms.

Static of a quiet echoed space sound throughout the speakers, and seconds later a man whose stature you know all too well walks in like he owns the place before pulling out the chair across from Seongwha to take his seat.

Out of habit, you begin to squeeze and pinch the flesh of your thighs until you feel Hongjoong move your hand gently and intertwine his hand in replacement.

So instead, as a coping mechanism to hear all the underlying truth in true color, you squeeze onto his hand for dear life.

...

"How are you today, Sir?" Seongwha asks.

Now that you assume Plan SMDT has been established, Sexist Misogynistic Disgusting Turd will be the new code for your ex-boss's new name.

“Seongwha?! SMDT exclaims in disbelief. “No way, I mean-come on man, drop and the formalities, our schools were rivals, not us. Damn... I can't believe it. Park fucking-excuse my French, freaking Seongwha. Wasn't it you who threw all those cool parties?"

Seongwha just stares blankly as he rants, and SMDT takes notice of his seriousness which makes him look a little uneasy for a millisecond, but he puts it to an end and keeps his composure.

"Mind explaining to me why I’m here? I’m supposed to be headed to Japan tomorrow, I mean seriously, what the hell is going on?” SMDT adds on.

“It’s Mr. Park, sir. Regardless of our past, it is my job to maintain my professionalism, even with those I personally knew.”

SMDT chuckles as he leans back in his chair to shake his head in amusement while eyeing Seonghwa up and down.

“Is that how it is? Okay, Mr. Park.” the man whom you most despise, pops the 'P' in the most obnoxious way.

“Anyhow.” Seongwha ignores. “You were called here today to explain a charge that has been mysteriously dropped from the high school party I hosted nearly a decade ago. Do you recall at all sir?”

Your boss chuckles. "Oh I recall, and clearly Mr. Park, tell me, if it’s been nearly one whole decade, and the charge is already dropped, why the hell are we here talking about it? What do you want from me?”

An echo of silence is bounced around the space before Seongwha loudly clears his throat.

“There have been new allegations pertaining to you, in relation to the incident that occurred that night. Did you know that (Y/n) (L/n), a recent employee of yours was the victim involved concerning that dropped charge?”

Your jaw clenches at the sound of your name, and Hongjoong rubs your back in comfort. So now SMDT knows exactly who you are after all these years just as you have, and by the horrified look on his features, the dots should connect in his simplistic fucking brain now.

“What...Y/n? C'mon, that’s-that's ridiculous, she doesn’t even seem like, the party type! Hell, she still has yet to accept my free trip to Japan, she's all work and no play!" SMDT nervously chuckles between words.

“No play, huh?" Seonghwa reiterates questionably.

Your ex-boss sits up and swallows deeply before fixing his work tie, and eases down tiredly in his chair.

"What are you getting at?"

What I'm getting at is, Seongwha pauses, "...even she wasn’t made aware that it was you that night. However, you did entrap her in darkness after all.”

A breath shudders out of your nostrils as a tear trickles down your cheek, but you're quick to wipe it with yours and Honjoong's conjoined hands before he can ask if you need a break.

“Okay.” Your boss chuckles again, and very suddenly his body stands tall as his chair squeaks behind him with friction to the ground.

He’s in very close proximity to Seongwha's face right now, but as he said before, it's his job to maintain his professionalism, and he does so by remaining calm and seated.

“You listen to me right fucking now. SMDT spits out. Like I told everyone back then, she was a weird, freaky, virgin, who tried to take advantage of vulnerable guys. Hell, I even made a post about it, and I got expelled, and put into jail for 6 months with a misdemeanor on my record!" He evilly laughs.

Seongwha carefully fixes a paper that has been crumbled under SMDT's hands with the grip he has on the desk. He looks so unbothered and untouchable.

“I’m aware because I had seen that post myself. But I also know, that you and your friends did that many times before, and not always did the girls get as lucky as (Y/n) did.”

SMDT leans back and releases his grip on the desk. Pointing his finger unsteadily toward Seongwha.

"You know what. Just like those girls did, she had it coming. She’d worn that skin-tight dress to be sexy and proactive. I was told, that she was a virgin desperate to swipe her v card. So I was just the cashier who was ready and waiting at the register."

"You sick fucking bastard, you'll be robbed of everything soon enough," you whisper. Another tear escapes, and Hongjoong sits back and watches it fall because he knows it's he knows that keeping them filled into the back of your eyes will create a waterfall later.

“That’s not a valid excuse sir. Seongwha states with one lower octave tone of his voice. "We’re not talking about what she was wearing that night. If anything, we’ve been told Mrs. (L/n) escaped from you to the bathroom, and that’s where you took advantage of her in the darkness.”

“Oh c'mon, who told you that shit load of crap.” SMDT groans.

“She did, it's on tape. The people back then that attended the same party as you did. Your classmates, Me, and Kim Hongjoong, my best friend who came from out of town to the party to intervene before you could go further, resulting in a physical altercation, which gave you that scar in your eye.”

A deep sigh echoes from the speakers and the chair scrapes against the fort once again. Your boss has sat back down again.

“I don’t know what to tell you alright? I told you, and her, my side of the story, I'm the victim here. You know what, why the fuck am I still talking to you, where’s my lawyer?” SMDT sporadically questions.

“You’ll be able to speak with them soon enough. Seongwha answers. "However please stay seated. We’ve also recovered several statements from female employees from your facility. Have you ever blackmailed one of them in return for sexual favors?”

You pause and look at Hongjoong, when did he find the time to do all of this? How did he convince those women, your co-workers, to tell their stories? They were being...blackmailed?

“This is insane. Do you even have evidence to back all of this up?” SMDT angrily quizzes.

“Yeah, sure. Here’s a file of recordings, camera footage, statements, and more. Let's watch it all shall we?” Seongwha prompts.

“I would love to.” SMDT says with a facading grin. It was all catching up to him but he'd continue to play the part until he'd been fired from his role.

"Here’s camera footage of women coming in your office and coming out in distressed states." Seongwha clicks the play button of black and white security footage.

You see yourself typing away and working hard in your previously owned private office at 2x speed and how nearly a dozen women come in and out of your ex-bosses office in a whole work shift.

"Why is it that you close the blinds every time?" Seongwha questions.

"Their private business meetings," SMDT answers in an annoyed tone.

"Okay then. Seonghwha shrugs. "Just recently, an employee of yours recorded one of these private business meetings on tape, and you had a lot to say, sir."

Seongwha moves his mouse and clicks onto and black video image that can only be indicated as a recording with audio.

...

“I'm just saying she doesn't seem to be so that interested in that trip, can I go?" A feminine voice emits.

“You don’t know that! A voice you recognize as your ex-bosses yells.

"See the difference between her and all of your Secretary-intern bitches is that you think you know everything because you’ve had a taste of my dick! He whisper shouts.

You don’t get special benefits, not like she does because she doesn't make herself easy and works hard for all she has. I mean I'm paying for your son's fuckin schooling, aren’t I? What else could you possibly need?" SMDT finishes.

“Well I figured since, I’ve been doing this for more years than she has.. that maybe I can get something more?” the 'Secretary-intern implies.

“Well if you want more.." your ex-boss trails off, "...then you have to give more right? On your knees.”

You reach forward and shut down Hongjoong's laptop to bury your face in your hands.

A few minutes of silence pass, and all the words that are left to say have been thrown out the window.

"We have more than just that just so you know." Hongjoong whispers in hopes of breaking the silence.

You uncuffed your hands from your face, you feel like you could throw up the last bits of the video just thumping loudly in your brain.

"That's good. You nod. "Does that mean he's gone, and he won't be able to hurt anyone else? You add.

"It's what I promised you. Hongjoong answers. "The plan is to catch him before he boards for his flight tomorrow. He's gonna be exposed to the entire world for who he truly is."

As he should.

"It's about time. Thank you, and...

I love you."

Hongjoong stares blankly and his body glitches from a loss of what's most proper to do next.

"I know you said it to me, and I hadn't said anything back, so it's not like you have to-"

"I love you too." Hongjoong blurts. "Like a lot. A whole lot my love."

The both of you simultaneously look at each other's lips and lean into rubbing against each other's noses as your breaths mingle in unity.

"My angel. In true human form." you whisper.

"Together forever?" Hongjoong whispers back.

As an answer this time you connect your lips into a deep passionate kiss as a together forever, a thank you, and an

I love you.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

Chapter 5➡️

Thank you for reading!

Much love (hehe),

xoxo

@moonstarwitch , @moonlitchickpea , @k-k-kn1v3s , @parkurhope , @ayeyeoyeo, @reverienymphslibrary , @blackbutterfly133 , @marshalhong , @hyunaphordite , @dimeb29 , @seong-hoe @yourfatherlucifer , @sisterofsomeone , @kpoplover90 , @trinibunnie , @bluesunpurplestar1117 , @cloudysannie , @julietacamposoffical , @mycloudysunflower , @foxinnie8 .

@bobathyy, @yeosangsbbg, @godmenus101, @franzma, @bloody-wine, @baeksobsession, @angelsaway, @minnie-min, @enchantingbroweyedgirl, @liyaaaaaas-world

#ateez smut #ateez au #ateez #ateez hongjoong #spotify #ateez angst #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #1117feverlessdreams #k pop smut

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adarkrainbow · 2 years ago

Note

What are your thoughts on Peter Dinklage’s comments about Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?

I actually wanted to speak about it around the time the interview came out! But then I decided it wouldn't really interest people... But if I'm asked, i'll gladly tell ;)

So... I am in no place to speak or make any conclusion when it comes to the topic "Is the roles of the seven dwarfs harmful or not when it comes to small-sized actors?". This is not my place to speak. But, when it comes to judging the fairytale itself, I can speak.

Judging the story as insulting and backward is wrong, and I can say this without a doubt. The story of Snow-White is, from what know, neither insulting nor backward when it comes to dwarfs. I do have the feeling that Dinklage mostly focuses and knows the Disney version of the story - especially since his initial reaction was about the Disney remake - but that's just being blindsighted to the story itself behind the movie (Disney did not invent "Snow-White").

One key element to remember is that the dwarfs of fairy tales are not "human dwarfs" or real-life dwarfs. I am speaking mostly here about the German fairytales, because the tales of the Brothers Grimm inherit characters and elements of Germanic/Nordic mythology. The dwarfs of the Grimm fairytales are descendants of the Nordic dwarfs, and they are not human but magical beings, humanoid fair-folks and small-sized sorcerers. It is not very prevalent in "Snow White" because in it the dwarfs are mostly human-like, but when you look at the other dwarfs of the Grimm fairytales, they all fulfill the role of good or evil fairies, and show magical powers and otherwordly attributes. To try to cancel Snow-White means trying to cancel all the fairy tales involving dwarfs - which aren't even real-life dwarfs but magical beings of folklore. It cannot be compared to for example the stories of the Grimm involving Jews - which this time, should indeed be rewritten and/or buried in the past.

And even then, Snow-White isn't even the most "harmful" story when it comes to dwarfs, since it is one of the fairytales that depict dwarfs as positive, helpful, benevolent forces: they agree to protect Snow-White and let her live with them (though in exchange of chores), they save her every time she is harmed, the evil queen does not dare to come near the princess when they are around, they organize for her a beautiful funeral-ritual and cry heavily at her death. They are supposed to be a new family for her, friends and allies, and protectors. When you compare this to other fairy tales where the dwarfs are evil sorcerers, demonic beings, or antagonists... I mean look at Rumpelstilskin, or "Snow White and Rose Red", or if we go into the French domain, "The Yellow Dwarf" - there the question could be raised, because there is a strong historical association of dwarfs with evil, the devil and vices. But Snow-White (or Little Snow White as the original title goes) isn't part of this series of negative tales, it is rather one of the positive ones depicting the dwarfs in a good, heroic position.

An heroic position that is even strenghtened by the Disney movie. People tend to forget how revolutionary the Disney movie was: it gave names and personalities to the dwarfs, which before were unnamed, interchangeable characters. It moved them from "secondary characters" to "main characters" by changing the title of the story to "Snow White and the Seven dwarfs". It showed them being the ones defeating the evil, by leading the Evil Queen to her death. Did people watch the movie for Snow-White? No! Let's be real, Disney's Snow-White is a flat character that wasn't one of the strong points of the movie. The real reason of the Disney movie's success was that peopled loved the Seven Dwarfs and the Evil Queen - they were the true characters of the story, with Snow-White herself and her prince being mostly sort of "plot-characters" here to give context to the adventures of the queen and the dwarfs.

Now... While I say all these positive things, I understand the place Dinklage comes from and I have to recognize that there is truth in his comments. He says right things - but the problem is that he is mistaken when it comes to the one on which to put the blame, it is a misdirected attack. Because it is true that the seven dwarfs characters lost their charm, and that many people consider them today to be mere laughing stocks, or cringe-fuel. I know I sometimes cringe when I see some Snow-White productions with actors having real-life dwarfism, and I know how the dwarfs role can be "backward" (note: myself I played one of the seven dwarfs when I was a little kid, in one school production, long story). It is undeniable that there is something backwards with the way the seven dwarfs are treated now - but this is due to how so many productions and adaptations post-Disney treated the characters. When you look at the evolution of Snow-White adaptations, you notice that as time goes by, the dwarfs become more and more reduced to mere comic sidekicks, ridiculous characters, walking jokes sometimes leading to a true cringe. But this is not because of the story itself: it is because of how people see, perceive and chose to adapt the story today. They basically want to copy Disney, or have a warped perception of the story heavily influenced by Disney, which pushes them to create watered-down versions of Disney's dwarfs - keeping the "funny comical sidekick here to make the audience laugh" aspect, while removing the human, loving, compassionate aspects which made the audience like the dwarfs and made the movie about them rather than Snow White. Heck Disney had to fight to keep "seven dwarfs" in the story because at the time people believed nobody would be interested in a story with dwarfs as main characters, and Disney proved them wrong.

But then it all went downhill... So there is a long history of decades of making the dwarf roles cringey laughingstock that has to be fought. But it is extremely easy - given how the original story is. For example, take the fact that the Evil Queen does not dare go near the house when the dwarfs are around. Take how they so easily break the Evil Queen's various spells. Take how batshit crazy they go after she kills Snow White in the Disney movie. It is extremely easy to make the dwarfs actually serious and badass characters, powerful enough that they can easily defeat a sorceress like the evil queen - you can easily make an adaptation where you show that they are indeed the ones protecting Snow-White and shielding her, you can make the evil queen FEAR the dwarfs hence why she waits for them to be out before attacking. They are clearly wise and intelligent enough to eventually see through her disguises and undo her various traps... It can be easily done.

It is all a question of interpretation and re-interpretation. Or at least, that would be my opinion.

After that, there is another question hidden in there: is making dwarfs magical beings instead of human ones a good thing? Isn't it another "Magical Negro" or "Magical Homo" type of trope? Is it harmful, is it good? This is not my place to say.

#ask #snow white #the seven dwarfs #snow white and the seven dwarfs #disney #disney fairytales #grimm fairytales #brothers grimm #dwarfs in fairytales #german fairytales

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alex-dontknow · 1 year ago

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The Agony That He Carries

Characters used: Azriel and Zayes (OCs)

Type: Drabble, Hurt No Comfort

Necessary Warnings: Major Character Death, semi-explicit detail.

This fic is exactly 444 words... I like that—

this is just a long drabble of the future of two of my OCs... it obviously doesn't end all that well. Poor lads.

also got inspired by those blasted poem tiktoks—

"Do you hear that?"

A gentle, tremulous voice was barely audible over the racket of thunder and the incessant ticking of the clock tower above. The soldier felt something throb within, banging desperately for escape. Was it anger? Anguish? Exasperation?

Of course he could hear it. How could he not? The voice was referring to the click-tick of the secondhand of the clock, and they were right beneath it. Each stroke sent ravaging chills through the soldier's body as it ticked closer to o'clock. If he had the capability, he would scream at the voice for being so ignorant, shout for being so mindless and moronic and so willingly blindsighted. With their circumstance, how can it ask such an inane question?

Regardless, the soldier nodded.

"... Time... it never stops... constantly linear with no repeats or hiccups..."

The soldier had to bite his tongue to hold himself from snapping at the voice, who only grew quieter and huskier as it rambled on.

"... And it never lets go. That's the agony that it carries... it'll never stop holding onto you, until you're no longer there for it to cling on to..."

The voice laughed, a frisky, pensive chuckle that barely hinted the pain beneath.

"Will you hold on to me? When time lets me go, will you grab me by the wrist and not let me be lost?"

The soldier dug his hand into the other's, pale sullied skin intertwined with bronze with mahogany red blending both colours together on a war-torn canvas. Tight fingers grasped others that weakened and became ashen.

"Will you let me go, dear raven?"

The soldier shook his head. He couldn't quite tell rain from tears.

He looked down at the voice—the face—equally doused in mahogany as his eyes—fading tones of a dulled hazel—reflected the soldier's own hues of gold and green.

It was the soldier's turn to speak now, fingers clenched tight around his friend's limpened hand.

"Lieutenant," he choked, "my friend, my Orion— please don't go."

The bell above chimed its dronous cacophony, forever thwarting the words this soldier desperately wanted to say.

One chime to feel the tightness around his fingers loosen eternally.

Twice to see those beautiful, sublime eyes slip closed.

Thrice to smell the dreadful stench of post-mortem soreness arise.

The fourth to taste the bitter, unforgiving savour of grievous remorse.

Finally the fifth chime—the loudest to the raven—to hear that final, ultimate gasp of withering life dissipate into silence.

The raven laid his head atop his lost one's hand, an eternal omen of time's permanence and mercilessness.

As rain and tears became separate, Azriel let his anguish consume him.

#oc #ocs #oc: azriel #oc: zayes #writing #drabble #major character death #idk whether to make this canon or not xdd #angst #hurt no comfort #heavy angst #two traumatized fucks #tw death #death cw #Spotify #crow writes

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ray-moo · 3 months ago

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If time is a flat circle, then is the cycle of subjugation to patriarchy and escape into feminist liberation a neverending cycle? How then shall we free ourselves from this cycle? You've probably already realized that for women to be free, they need to shed their belief in an inherent feminine nature. Why stop there? Shed the rest of your false beliefs about what you think is inherent to yourself as well. Find out what is really inherent to yourself and what is just attachment that weighs you down. Escape illusion and escape suffering.

Personally I like being conscious. But I also don't think consciousness could have arisen through evolution alone. You should read Blindsight. Great novel. The sequal Exchopraxia has a strong female character who canonically is much smarter and stronger than all the male characters. She escapes her oppression by physically killing all the men who were oppressing her, and then solve the problem of human consciousness by the end of the book. Too bad she isn't the main character though.

While I think evolution has given us a raw hand, I think the beauty of humanity is our ability to subjugate nature and make a better artificial environment for ourselves. I think the talk about how women are closer to nature and all that is actually really unhealthy for feminism. If women were living in their natural state they would be pregnant all the time, and then probably die of pregnancy or an infection from pregnancy due to a lack of antibiotics. The association/affinity between women and nature is just another one of the patriarchy's narratives and lies used to subjugate women. Perhaps women should step away from nature and join in the human project of subjugating nature and overcoming the problems that evolution has given us.

Everyone knows that race is made up already, no one tries to define race biologically even though there are biological differences in phenotype among humans. I don't have to explain why race doesn't exist while we should treat people perceived as different races differently. However it seems that I do have to do it for sex and gender.

questions for the gendies: when you remove the female body from the definition of woman, what else remains besides sexist feminine stereotypes?

when a male says he identifies as a woman, what exactly is he identifying with? you can’t identify with a organs you don’t have, so what is he actually identifying with, if not sexist feminine stereotypes?

and how is it progressive to say that a man who identifies with feminine stereotypes is a woman? is it not more progressive to say that a man who identifies with feminine stereotypes… is simply a feminine man?

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korissideblog · 2 years ago

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decidedly entering my goofy era <3 Aito and Konekomaru's first date <3 part 1

[konekomaru by the spectacular @you-may-call-me-meme <3]

Aito wasn’t used to being nervous.

Though he described his feelings towards Konekomaru as a sickness he enjoyed- this felt like something much worse. Aito noticed his hands shaking a bit as he combed his hair for maybe the 3rd time in the last hour, trying to fill the time till she was expected at Konekomaru’s door.

She had planned this night for a bit longer than necessary, but after Konekomaru’s rushed confession, she felt like she needed to make everything extra perfect to make up for it. Not that she disliked his outburst of a confession, not even for a second- in fact she was insulted that you would even insinuate that. The gall.

Because in truth, Aito liked Konekomaru. He really liked him! And… that was kind of the issue here. Aito wouldn’t be so nervous if she didn’t care about him- but he also wouldn’t be going through all this planning if he didn’t care, so… maybe this nervousness was good? Maybe it was a sign of Aito really really caring about something- about someone.

It would be an interesting topic to bring up to her mother when she saw her next; he’d definitely need to remember it. She’d remember it better if she wrote it down- but! Her hair still needed fixing for a fourth time, and her makeup for a third, and her shirt for the fifth, and the flowers for a ninth, and her shoelaces for the second, and her jewelry for the eighth, and-

And suddenly she looked at the clock and it was 6- it was 6! She was supposed to be at Konekomaru’s door at 6! Aito quickly snached the large bouquet of white flowers and sprinted out the door, jumping up the stairs two at a time and springing down the hall, only giving herself a second to breathe before she knocked on Konekomaru’s door.

Aito had always had a fondness for how Konekomaru dressed outside of his uniform. Always drowning in a large sweater and pants, always looking so comfortable in everything he wore- his confidence in his fashion was something Aito really admired about him, even before she noticed any sort of feelings she may have had for him.

She was expecting a similar look for tonight- for some odd reason she hadn’t even considered the fact that he would also dress up for the occasion, and was a bit blindsighted by his outfit. In retrospect, though she would have been just as happy if he had dressed completely normally, when seeing him in a loose red sweater vest and slacks- she decided that definitely preferred him all dressed up.

“Hey! Aito!” Konekomaru said, waving a bit awkwardly as Aito waved back. “I was worried you were gonna be late- ah but it’s cool! You’re here now!” he said, Aito looking just over his shoulder and noticing the time- 6:11. ugh.

“I am!” Aito chirped, quickly shaking off the embarrassment. “Oh- I got you these!” He said, quickly holding out the bouquet of flowers only to notice that it had shrunk to almost half of its original size. Aito blinked in surprise, quickly turning his head when he realized… maybe running with very delicate flowers wasn’t… his most inspired idea.

“Oh, Aito-“ Konekomaru laughed as he noticed Aito’s mistake as well, the hallway floor lightly dusted with rufflely white petals staring back at the demon- as if only to spite her.

“Thank you Aito, they’re beautiful.” Konekomaru said, accepting the slightly desecrated bouquet and holding it gently- as if even when ruined, it was something to be cherished. “These aren’t roses- Carnations maybe?” He guessed, closing his dorm room door behind him, seemingly trying to distract Aito from the mess.

“I think so.” Aito hummed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he fell into place at Konekomaru’s side, scowling at the petals that littered the hall. Haru was gonna give him hell for that later. “I can’t remember. Mustn’t have been that important.” He shrugged, starting down the stairs; distracting himself by trying to fall into perfect time with Konekomaru’s steps. “Do you like them- or- would you have liked them if they weren’t… you know.” Aito gestured to the stairs in front of them, frowning as the petals continued to meet them at each step. This wasn’t what Aito had planned for. Things usually fall right into place for her, but, for some reason the universe seemed pleased to collect on her good karma tonight of all nights.

“I like them.” Konekomaru chuckled, holding the bouquet in his arms and seemingly unaware of the couple of petals that continued to flake off behind them. “Even like this. The thought was sweet; and it’s the thought that counts.”

That was possibly the stupidest thing Aito has ever heard. Who would ever actually think that? If a gift sucked, then it sucked, even if it was given with the best intentions of it not sucking. Konekomaru must be privy to Aito’s perfection. Even if things seem to go wrong, Aito would eventually reveal things to actually have been perfect the entire time- a gift of her’s, really.

How Aito was going to fix the flowers is… yet to be seen. Just because things go right, doesn’t mean Aito understands them immediately- just give her time! Time and… and maybe a lot of tape- or glue… or just general adhesives to hold the petals onto the flower. He’d need Konekomaru distracted for a long while if he was going to collect all these petals- “Aito” not to mention actually putting them back onto the flowers, that would take an actual eon to accomplish. “Aito” and Aito wanted to actually enjoy tonight! Not just distract Konekomaru while she tried to wrestle with plants! “Aito!”

Aito blinked back into reality to finally notice the deep scowl on her face, immediately returning to something more neutral as she looked to Konekomaru- somehow having already left the building and standing on the sidewalk outside. “Are you alright, Aito?” Konekomaru asked, walking to meet her on the sidewalk- he had held the door for her, what a gentleman. God, Aito had the best taste in men. “You seem… somewhere else.”

“Oh- no I’m good! I’m-“ Aito reached for something, as if to prove her statement, only succeeding in grabbing the front of her shirt. “I’m… yeah I’m here.” He said, laughing a bit nervously. “It’s just the flowers- they were supposed to be perfect.”

Konekomaru looked again at the bouquet, a petal falling gracefully to the ground as if to prove Aito’s point. “I like them.” Konekomaru repeated, holding them just a bit tighter. “That’s all that really matters, right?”

Aito shrugged, catching the next petal that fell. “Perfection by proximity.” He mumbled, tossing the petal back onto the flowers, as if it would help anything. “Hard to be ‘by proximity’ when they’re everywhere except for where I want them. But the point stands.” Aito sighed, finally deciding that if Konekomaru liked the flowers, then he'd stop giving them thought. Tonight wasn’t about plants anyway, it was about showing Konekomaru that she could be the perfect boyfriend- and that didn’t require flowers that were perfectly intact. “Ok! Ah, first is dinner!” Aito said, more to remind herself than to tell Konekomaru her plans. “I got a reservation for us- you’re gonna like the place I chose.”

Konekomaru laughed, nodding in agreement. “I’m sure I will, Aito!” He said, smiling as Aito grabbed his wrist and led him down the sidewalk.

_________

“Overbooked!” Aito barked, leaving the restaurant in a huff. Konekomaru looked up from where he waited, sitting on the curb. “It’s an hour wait time- who the hell would overbook their restaurant! The point of a reservation is to get around this kinda thing!” Aito complained, meeting Konekomaru and sitting next to him.

“Were you polite to the staff?” Konekomaru asked, a bit worried.

“Of course I was.” Aito said, crossing her arms. “It’s not their fault if their boss makes them do something- but why would anyone in their right mind make their staff overbook!”

“Well, it’s a business thing.” Konekomaru shrugged. “Businesses know that not everyone will show up for appointments and reservations, so they sell more than they can actually supply. Think of an airline; about 50,000 people get bumped off their flights every year, and airlines do this on purpose. They use statistics from past flights to figure out how many tickets they can sell- too few and they lose money, too many and the penalties get too high. Let’s say airlines do a study over a couple of years and they find that 90% of people show up to their flights. If there are 180 seats on a plane, and they sell 180 tickets, the most likely result will be only 162 people will show- meaning 18 empty seats. If they sold 198 tickets, then all 180 seats would likely be filled, and the airline makes the max amount of money. They’ll pay the amount to deal with passengers that were bumped off, because in the end they're still making more money by doing this. It’s the same thing for restaurants, they expect a certain percentage of people to not show up for their reservation, so they overbook to compensate for that. This just seems to be a mathematically improbable night, where a large portion of the reservations actually showed up.”

Aito blinked boredly, briefly reconsidering whether or not he actually liked Konekomaru.

After a moment or so he decided that, yeah, she liked him- strangely detailed knowledge of airline ticket selling strategies and all. “Ok… but I’m not willing to wait an hour for dinner.” he said, trying to think of a way to speed this up. Maybe he could charm the other guests into giving him their reservation? Konekomaru may not like that too much- not to mention staff may notice something suspicious going on. He was already in hot water with Sato sensei for “convincing” the owner of the flower shop into giving him the maybe-carnations at an extremely discounted rate.

“What about takeout?” Konekomaru asked, pointing vaguely down the road. “There’s a place nearby, I think you’ll like the sashimi.” he offered, standing up from the curb.

“I wanted to take you somewhere special.” Aito complained again, accepting Konekomaru’s extended hand as he helped her stand up.

“I’d call it special- if we both like it that is.” Konekomaru said, smiling. “And if we don’t, then it’ll be a nice story, right?” Aito looked on with consideration. The perfect girlfriend would find a way out of this- not give up immediately and get takeout. But… Konekomaru said he liked the restaurant, and the perfect girlfriend would be attentive when told their partner liked something. It wasn’t like she was really giving up, he was just being given an obstacle. The best way around most obstacles is the most obvious- so maybe she wouldn’t be blamed if she gave into the idea.

“Ok then- takeout.” Aito said, doing her best to hide her mild disappointment in not being able to follow through with her original plan. They both noticed suddenly that even after Konekomaru had helped Aito up, they… hadn’t let go of each other's hands yet.

They both flinched away at the same time, Aito’s hand going to scratch the back of her neck and Konekomaru’s hand finding its place in his pocket.

They both laughed at the interaction, but still looked away for a second, wishing the other would finally break the silence.

“So! Sashimi!” Konekomaru said, turning and walking down the sidewalk- still not looking at Aito.

“Yeah! I’m starving!” Aito agreed just as awkwardly, jogging a bit to catch up with Konekomaru’s pace… also keeping her eyes squarely away from Konekomaru.

#aito takao #bnha oc comeback #knha // kimi no hero academia #konekomaru yoshino

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magicpotatoobsession · 3 years ago

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GIVEN | A New Revelation on Akihiko and THAT SCENE [GIVEN MOVIE SPOILERS]

Ok I've come up with a new revelation and I don't want to excuse Akihiko for what he did but in one scene and in the manga, akihiko actually says that whenever he stayed over at other people houses other people always “asked for something in return.” He “slept around and did things he couldn’t even joke about.” So new interpretation was that when he came over the Haruki’s, what he did was awful, but for a second I believe he felt really abandoned since he heard about Haruki playing support for another band. I believe that he thought him making an advance was what Haruki wanted because he knew that Haruki liked him. Akihiko thought that Haruki wanted something in return but then he was still hurting from the previous fight with Ugetsu so that’s why he was basically acting on angry impulse with Haruki and wasn’t listening to Haruki when Haruki was telling him to stop because clearly Haruki didn’t want things to happen this way because he saw how much pain Akihiko was in. So yes it was still an awful scene, but it gives a new level of insight that it’s not really actually super out of character for Akihiko, he always never felt like he had a place to call home because people always asked for potentially sexual favours in return so in that moment of hurt, he was like oh, "I might as well just be a sex doll to Haruki too since that’s all I am to ugetsu and other people".

I find Akihiko's character fascinating because he can be incredibly observant and insightful of other people non-verbal cues of romance such as between Uenoyama and Mafuyu and of course Haruki but the toxicity of his 'situationship' with Ugetsu completely blindsight him sometimes from Haruki's affections AND from seeing the deeper meaning behind Ugetsu's hurtful actions.

LOVE LANGUAGE

And I think another interesting aspect is that Akihiko’s love language is touch. Like how he and ugetsu got together was also he hugs ugetsu and in the given anime when he’s flirting with haruki, he expresses it through touch. And as we see in the final confession scene, he confesses while hugging haruki. This is why when Ugetsu sleeps with other people, it hurts him so much so he lashes out and covers his own pain by sleep with other people too. This playboy part of him he tries to actually hide from haruki because it’s something that he needs but also he hates about himself.

I think what’s complex about Akihiko's character is that he discovers that Haruki’s love language is actually words of validation, like Akihiko actually says some really insightful things sometimes and brings Harukis self esteem up (like in the scene where Haruki feels inferior to the other band members). Also Akihiko through living with Haruki discovers that acts of service and other forms of love language are equally valuable and beautiful so I think it’s so powerful that in the given movie, we see this «physical scene » as an uncomfortable one but the rest of it is scenes of Haruki and Akihiko and their relationship blossoming in other love languages. So I actually really appreciated the mangaka's/directorial choice of them just hugging at the end and nothing more. Big CLAP to Akihiko for asking for consent! Haruki and Akihiko, as shown in the anime are fantastic friends first and foremost that grew to understand each other on a deeper level in the movie.

So where to from here?

I really want to dig more into Haruki's backstory. I really want to know why he was ok to be in a one sided love for so long and also why he can feel easily hurt or uplifted by words. I wonder if in a past relationship, there was a partner that he had where he was constantly being put down. Also he was always hoping for something to happen but isn't always actively in pursuit of what he wants. So I'd really like to know more deeply about his story and maybe see a character growth arc where he actively chases after something that he wants rather than be the safety net of Akihiko and Given.

---

Masterlist of my Given Metas

If you like what you read, all I post is Given analysis content! Give my blog a follow to be notified of new posts! #metapotato

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paperanddice · 2 years ago

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Hearing mysterious singing is already a cause for concern in fantasy settings. Generally though the danger comes from being drawn to the threat, such as by harpies or sirens. The doomsinger doesn't lure you in to kill you with the environment or weapons. Their song simply rips your body to pieces if they so wish it. Like many dreams, the doomsinger's goals and motives are locked in and hard to parse out from the outside. What prompts them to use their doomsong as opposed to regular singing isn't always clear. They always seek out a crowd, looking to host performances for as many people as possible, but most often these songs are harmless. On occasion however, with seemingly no distinction, sometimes their performance is fatal, killing much of the crowd in a bloody display, and leaving the survivors scarred and traumatized. The doomsinger's body is "clothed" in a shifting outfit of strange shapes and faces, some of which bear an uncanny resemblance to the people killed by the doomsinger.

In a non-dream setting, the doomsinger makes sense as a fey creature. Depending on how well your hospitality and manners hold up, you either get a beautiful performance that you'll remember for the rest of your life, or a horribly painful performance that you'll remember for the rest of your (much shorter) life.

Originally from the Dreamblade Base Set. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I'm working on, consider backing me there!

5th Edition

Doomsinger Medium aberration, unaligned Armor Class 18 Hit Points 130 (20d8 + 40) Speed 30 ft. Str 12 (+1) Dex 15 (+2) Con 15 (+2) Int 12 (+1) Wis 16 (+3) Cha 22 (+6) Saving Throws Wis +7, Cha +10 Skills Perception +7, Performance +10 Damage Immunities thunder, bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage from nonmagical attacks Damage Resistances lightning, necrotic Senses blindsight 60 ft., passive Perception 17 Languages any two Challenge 12 (8400 XP) Armor Of Souls. The AC of the doomsinger includes its Charisma bonus. Reflect Thunder. Whenever the doomsinger is subjected to thunder damage, it takes no damage and instead each creature within 30 feet of the doomsinger takes thunder damage equal to the amount that would have been dealt to the doomsinger. Vulnerable To Silence. The doomsinger takes 20 psychic damage when it starts its turn in the area of a silence spell. While in the area, it also has disadvantage on attack rolls and ability checks. Actions Multiattack. The doomsinger makes two Sonic Staff attacks. Sonic Staff. Melee Spell Attack: +10 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 10 (1d8+6) bludgeoning damage plus 14 (4d6) thunder damage. Doomsong. The doomsinger sings a magical melody. Each creature of the doomsinger's choice that starts its turn within 60 feet of the doomsinger while it is singing must make a DC 18 Constitution saving throw. A creature that can't hear the doomsinger has advantage on this save. On a failure, the creature takes 13 (3d8) thunder damage. If the saving throw fails by 5 or more, the target is also overwhelmed by the sound and can't take any actions on its turn. If the saving throw is successful, the target takes half as much thunder damage. The doomsinger must use a bonus action on each of its turns to continue singing. The song lasts until the doomsinger chooses not to continue singing it, or until its concentration ends (as if concentrating on a spell). Focused Note (Recharge 5-6). The doomsinger targets a point it can see within 120 feet of it. Each creature within 5 feet of that point must make a DC 18 Constitution saving throw, taking 45 (7d12) thunder damage and becoming stunned for one round on a failed save, or half as much damage and not being stunned on a successful one. A creature that can't hear the doomsinger has advantage on the saving throw.

13th Age

Doomsinger 8th level wrecker [aberration] Initiative: +10 Sonic Staff +12 vs. AC - 15 damage plus 20 thunder damage Natural Even Hit: The target pops free from the doomsinger. R: Focused Note +13 vs. PD (1d2 nearby or far away enemies in a group) - 20 thunder damage Natural 14+: The target is also stunned until the end of its next turn. Limited Use: 2/battle, not two turns in a row. Doomsong: As a standard action, the doomsinger can start singing. As long as it’s singing, each nearby enemy takes 10 thunder damage at the start of each of its turns. The doomsinger must spend a quick action on each of its turns to sustain the song. If the doomsinger takes damage, it must roll a save; on a failure, its song ends. Reflect Thunder 14 and below: When the doomsinger is targeted by a thunder attack with a natural attack roll of 14 or lower, the doomsinger takes no damage and instead 1d3 nearby enemies take 5 thunder damage. AC 24 PD 18 MD 22 HP 140

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thecreaturecodex · 3 years ago

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Hulk of Zoretha (Male)

[Commissioned by @tar-baphon. The male hulk of Zoretha is even stranger and vaguer than the females, previously covered here. The females at least get a piece of art as a chapter header, but there’s no illustration of the male except for its quiescent form. And what description we get is as follows:

Upon awakening, the male Hulk of Zoretha unfurls large black wings and reveals a graceful, slightly shadowy form, perfectly molded to human standards of beauty.

It is unclear whether this is supposed to be male or female beauty. “Beauty” is a word used in this era of RPG writing to refer almost exclusively to women. And especially since the female hulks are burly and “sexless” (the book’s words), making the male look like a human female strikes me as being homophobic and transphobic. Which is definitely a path that 3.x D&D had gone down before. I personally imagine the male hulk as looking like Chernabog from Fantasia’s “Night on Bald Mountain” segment, only without the horns. I raised his CR from 16, by the commissioner’s request. The original male hulk is one of the deadliest CR 16-on-paper monsters in 3.5, having an average damage output of 148 damage a round, before all of the Con damaging poison he delivers.]

Hulk of Zoretha (Male) CR 18 CE Outsider (native) This humanoid creature seems to be hewn from stone. Shadow wreathes his form, and bat-like wings grow from his shoulders. His arms are covered in an array of long spines.

The male hulk of Zoretha is more human-like in appearance than the females, and possesses a certain dark beauty. It is the role of the male to not only impregnate female hulks of Zoretha in order to create the next generation of hulks, but to protect them from serious threats and transport them around the world. A male hulk of Zoretha is more intelligent and durable than the female, but not nearly as strong.

A male hulk of Zoretha rarely stands still in combat, weaving through the battlefield as needed. Their blood moon aura is more potent than that of the females, and even strong wills can succumb to their paralyzing visions of madness. Their spines and claws drip with lethal venom, and few creatures can survive multiple doses of this toxin. Not only is a male hulk of Zoretha wreathed in concealing shadows, these shadows extend to cover nearby females, keeping them from harm.

Hulk of Zoretha (Male) CR 18 XP 153,600 CE Huge outsider (native) Init +10; Senses blindsight 60 ft., darkvision 120 ft., Perception +29 Aura blood moon (60 ft., DC 26) Defense AC 33, touch 24, flat-footed 33 (-2 size, +10 Dex, +5 deflection, +10 natural) hp 290 (20d10+180); fast healing 15 Fort +14, Ref +22, Will +18 DR 10/epic; Immune ability damage, ability drain, mind-influencing effects, petrifaction, poison, polymorph; Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20, fire 20; SR 29 Defensive Abilities freedom of movement, improved uncanny dodge, shadow shield Offense Speed 60 ft., fly 90 ft. (average) Melee 2 claws +29 (2d6+7 plus poison), bite +29 (3d8+7) Ranged 4 spines +29 (2d8+7 plus poison) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks sneak attack +3d6, waking nightmares Spell-like Abilities CL 20th, concentration +26 Constant—freedom of movement, shield of faith 1/day—greater teleport, summon (1 nightwing, 100%, 9th level) Statistics Str 25, Dex 31, Con 26, Int 22, Wis 23, Cha 22 Base Atk +20; CMB +29; CMD 45 Feats Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Mobility, Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Shot on the Run, Stand Still, Toughness, Weapon Finesse Skills Acrobatics +33 (+45 jumping), Climb +27, Diplomacy +29, Fly +29, Intimidate +29, Knowledge (geography) +20, Knowledge (planes, religion) +29, Perception +29, Sense Motive +29, Stealth +33, Swim +27; Racial Modifiers +8 Stealth Languages Abyssal, Aquan, Auran, Celestial, Ignan, Infernal, Terran, telepathy 500 ft. SQ dark visitant, no breath, quiescent invulnerability, share shadow shield Ecology Environment any Organization solitary or rampage (1 plus 1-4 female hulks of Zoretha) Treasure incidental Special Abilities Blood Moon Aura (Su) All living creatures within 60 feet of a male hulk of Zoretha must succeed a DC 26 Will save or be affected by a rage and song of discord effect for 1 minute. If a creature would be affected by multiple auras in the same turn, it makes a single save, but suffers a -1 penalty to its save DC for each additional hulk. A creature that saves against this aura is immune to the blood moon aura of the hulks of Zoretha for the next 24 hours. This is a mind-influencing compulsion effect. The save DC is Charisma based. Dark Visitant (Su) Any divine spellcaster who sleeps within 100 miles of a male hulk of Zoretha must succeed a DC 26 Will save or be affected by a nightmare spell and take 1d4+1 points of Wisdom drain. When the hulks are quiescent, this radius is reduced to 1 mile. The save DC is Charisma based. Poison (Ex) claw or spine—injury; save Fort DC 28; frequency 1/round for 6 rounds; effect 1d6 Con damage; cure 2 saves. The save DC is Constitution based. Quiescent Invulnerability (Ex) When dormant, a hulk of Zoretha is immune to all damage and divination effects. Shadow Shield (Su) In any light conditions besides bright light, a male hulk of Zoretha gains a 50% miss chance against any opponents that use vision. Share Shadow Shield (Su) All female hulks of Zoretha in a male hulk of Zoretha’s reach gain the benefits of the male hulk’s shadow shield ability for as long as they remain in its reach. Spines (Ex) A male hulk of Zoretha can fire a single spine as an attack and four spines as a full round action. Treat each spine as a thrown weapon with a range of 80 feet. A spine that hits deals 2d8 damage plus the hulk’s Strength bonus, and exposes the creature struck to the hulk’s poison. Waking Nightmares (Su) As a swift action five times per day, a male hulk of Zoretha can force a creature within 30 feet to succeed a DC 26 Will save or be paralyzed for 1d6+1 rounds. A creature paralyzed in this fashion may attempt another DC 26 Will save to negate the effect as a full round action. This is a mind-influencing illusion effect, and the save DC is Charisma based.

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

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Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 7

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - suicide mention, more angst

Author’s note: GRAB YOUR TISSUES.

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER SEVEN - NEXT

Bruce motherfucking Wayne. You couldn't believe it. You pondered why he was at the Black Gold Cooperative Christmas gala— perhaps he was a friend of Maxwell's? They were, on the surface, very alike; both hailing from wealthy families and CEO’s of the most prestigious international conglomerates. You sipped on your bubbling champagne and laughed as he cracked a joke with you.

You had completely lost track of time. The music was loud and the ballroom was bustling with people of high importance. Everyone looked marvellous in their designer outfits and styled hair. You hadn't even seen Maxwell, that was until you hear him tap a glass, raising the attention of everyone including you and Bruce. The room fell obscenely quiet.

Maxwell was… nervous. He was good at being on television, but live speeches in front of all these important business associates, his mother and the president? That was terrifying. His eyes scanned the room for you. When his gaze finally landed on you, you shot him a warm and encouraging smile and he felt a gush of relief wash over his tensed up body.

"Hello everyone, I'd like to thank you all for joining me this evening. Firstly I'd like to thank the president for letting me use his beautiful home as a function," Maxwell spoke into the mic, his words earning an applause. "It has been a pleasure to meet you, sir. I wish you all the best for your presidency." you knew how much Max disagreed with the president and practically cringed at the fauxness of his tone. Maxwell spoke for a long while about the past year, the highs and the lows of his company and what Black Gold Cooperative had been through. Rubbing your eyes, you let out a shaky yawn.

"Hey?" Bruce whispered, putting his champagne glass on the bar. "Wanna get out of here?"

You were taken aback by his proposal. What exactly was he suggesting? Bruce Wayne was, by far, one of the more handsome men in the room. And he certainly seemed nice. He hadn't given the staff attitude (unlike Maxwell, who was rude to everyone he saw lesser than him), and he had been nothing but kind to you.

"I-" you sighed, glancing between Maxwell who was on the stage, and Bruce who was by your side. "I really shouldn't." you rejected him, and Bruce nodded sadly.

"No worries," he replied, taking a sip of his champagne.

"What do you think of him?" you asked, out of the blue. Your eyes were heavy as you drank in Maxwell's appearance. There was just something so fascinating about him. He wasn't your type but from the moment you met him you were so compelled to him.

"Who?" Bruce responded, cocking a curious dark eyebrow.

"Maxwell Lord." you pursed your lips into a thin line. He was charismatic, the coverboy of Forbes, a household name. He was Maxwell Lord.

"I think it's a shame, what happened to him when he was a kid," Bruce shook his head and your head snapped to face him. "But, the man has built his career and fortune on lies and greed. He thinks he's some kind of hero but really he's just… a lonely, broken little boy."

You were about to ask Bruce what he meant, what happened to Maxwell when he was a kid, when a thunderous applause erupted in the room and Maxwell padded off the stage. "I should go see him. But it was lovely talking to you." you smiled at Bruce. You leaned in, brushing your lips over his cheek. He smelled delicious. Another man drenched in expensive cologne, no doubt, but nevertheless you were sad to leave him.

You made your way past through the crowds of people in the ballroom, trying to peer over hundreds of heads in-attempt to find Maxwell. You just about made out his dark blonde head of hair talking to the president. You hurried over, holding your gown in your hands, careful not to trip over.

"Hey!" you gasped, placing your hands on Maxwell's back. The suit was soft in your hands, you didn't want to let go off him.

"Hi," Maxwell smiled, his eyes gleaming now that he had finally found you. "Uh, I'd like to introduce you to the president of the United States."

"The pres-" your jaw dropped as you shook hands with President Reagan.

"She's quite the gem," the president nodded, his hand stroking your arm. The contact was more than enough to make you uncomfortable.

"Yeah but, we're just friends." Maxwell insisted and you felt your heart sink a little. It was exactly what you had told the press, but hearing it from him was devastating.

"That's good then. Because I'd like to introduce you to my daughter Margaret." the president beamed, taking the hand of his daughter and thrusting her into Maxwell. She fell into her chest and he caught her just in time, albeit stumbling backwards.

She had tight blonde curls and pink glossy lips, her pearl earrings bringing out the blue in her ice cold eyes. "Oh, hi Mr Lord," she purred affectionately. You scrunched up your nose in disdain as he gently pushed her off him.

"Pleasure to meet you Margaret," Maxwell smiled, shaking her hand.

"Please, call me Maggie," she replied, not breaking eye contact once.

"Right Maggie…" Maxwell laughed awkwardly and you took a step back, scowling.

The burning feeling of jealousy rinsed through your body. This was outrageous— you had no reason to be jealous. Yours and Maxwell's relationship was strictly business only. But it didn't mean you had to enjoy seeing that woman leaning into his chest, his arms wrapped around her.

It seemed that everyday you grew more and more angered and confused by your feelings. It must've just been something in the December air.

"I'll be at the bar," you mumbled as Maxwell and Margaret continued to chat.

You sighed, walking back over to Bruce with a frown.

"Everything okay?" Bruce asked, concern dripping from his tongue. You didn't reply, shaking your head sadly and staring into the oak wood bar like it was going to give you answers. "Two glasses of your finest house wine, please." Bruce called over the bartender before turning back to you.

"Trying to get me drunk, Wayne?" you rolled your eyes.

"I'd never," Bruce replied, placing a hand on the small of your back. "I just know we're both going to need plenty of alcohol to get through this evening."

"Touché." you agreed, taking a swing of your drink and shuddering at the strong taste.

"Where do you hail from?" Bruce asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Never seen you around before. And trust me, I'd recognise someone as beautiful as you."

"I-" you felt yourself blush under his touch, and subconsciously lean into his hand, biting your lip. Just then, you spotted him. The man of the night. Maxwell Lord barked your name, anger crossing his dark brown eyes. "What is it?" you sighed, taking another sip of wine.

"I didn't know you'd be here." Maxwell snarled at Bruce, grabbing your hand and interlocking his fingers with yours. His action was rough and harsh but you felt butterflies just from his touch and his possessive nature.

"My father would've wanted me to be here," Bruce smiled. "When your mother invited me, how could I refuse? I think your father would've wanted me here too. Don't worry, I've placed a donation…"

Maxwell dug his finger in Bruce's chest. "You don't know shit about what my father would want."

You were confused, making quick glances between the two men who were, quite frankly acting like little boys. "And you do?" Bruce chuckled. "Your father is the reason for your success. He built his business on hope with the aim of helping those less fortunate than him. And what did you do? You turned it into an abomination… all his hard work, gone. Because you're greedy."

"Bruce!" you gasped, speechless at the businessman's cold words. You turned to Maxwell with pleading eyes. "Max… maybe we should leave." you placed a hand on his shoulder but his glare didn't tear from Bruce. You had never seen so much hate in his eyes.

"No," Maxwell breathed eventually. He couldn't even bring himself to look at you, his gaze finding the floor as he shuffled his feet sadly. "You can stay. I'm leaving." Maxwell murmured.

"Max I'm coming with you," you began to protest.

"No." Maxwell repeated, this time his voice was more stern. "I'm going home with Maggie. You're clearly more comfortable here, with Bruce. Wouldn't want to spoil your evening."

"Max?" you whispered as tears pricked your eyes.

"Good night." he said finally, before walking away with his head held high.

"What a man." Bruce tsked.

You turned to him, blindsighted by rage and picked up your wine glass from the bar. You didn't know how to react, you didn't know what to say. You were left so bewildered by the dialogue between Maxwell and Bruce. All you knew was that you had never seen Maxwell so hurt in his life. And that did not sit well with you at all. You threw the remenints of your wine all over Bruce, drenching him in the expensive liquid.

"You're a real jerk." you spat. The music stopped and everyone turned to face you. "I don't know what is going on with you and Max, but stay away from him." you gritted before storming off.

You tried to locate Margaret, spotting her by the Christmas tree as she overlooked the dancers. "Hey, Maggie?" you asked.

"Oh it's you," she spat, looking you up and down. "My name is Margaret."

You wished you had kept a little wine to throw over her. "I don't care," you shook your head. "Have you seen Max? Has he spoken to you in the last few minutes?"

"No? Why?" Margaret asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Shit okay, nevermind." you replied, spinning around on your heel.

You raced to the lobby, asking a member of staff to call you a cab. She gave you a judgemental look but followed your instruction none the less. Letting you know when your can had arrived outside, you raced out into the thick snow. Low and behold, the paparazzi were still there, snapping photos of you as you ran to the taxi. They screamed your name, asking questions about why you weren't with Max and why you were taking a taxi home. You ignored them, pushing past them furiously until you reached the yellow cab and slid inside. Your gown got caught in the door but you didn't care. You needed to see Max. You needed to make sure he was okay. Your heart ached knowing he was upset.

You arrived to his penthouse in your ripped gala dress and messy hair, still running to the reach the elevator. When you got to his penthouses the warmth and familiarity relieved you.

You closed the front door gently behind you and tip-toed to Maxwell's office. Before you could open the door and let yourself in, you heard gentle sobbing. It was quiet and there was the occasional pause before a sniff and a cry. You leaned against the wall, trying to process what you were hearing. Maxwell Lord IV was in his office, crying. You felt a pang of pain in your chest. Maxwell Lord doesn't cry— and yet here he was. You suddenly felt defensive and you wanted to know what had happened. You decided you could push your argument to one side. You slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

Maxwell was sat at his desk with a half drunk bottle of whiskey. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his shirt had the top three buttons undone. His fingers were laced in his dark blonde hair and you noticed he was tugging on it out of frustration. He hadn't noticed you standing there yet. You took a deep breath.

"Max?"

You watched him stiffen up and wipe his eyes. He didn't turn to look at you— he didn't need to. Instead, his gaze burned into the amber coloured scotch in the crystal glass. He felt ashamed. Embarrassed. He didn't say a word. Cautiously, you approached him, with slow and light footsteps. As you neared him you noticed his eyes were sore and red and you wondered how long he had been crying for. You crouched down to his level and gently pressed your hand into his back, rubbing comforting circles.

Maxwell gulped as you touched him, but still didn't say a word. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd croak something ridiculous out or just as easy burst into tears. He knew it. You were there for him, as always. You had come back for him. His guardian angel— the only person who truly cared about him.

You cupped his cheek and turned his head to face you. He did so, willingly, his glossy brown eyes gazing into yours. "What happened, Max?" you whispered, your fingers gently tracing his golden tear stained cheeks. Max stayed silent and tried his best to suppress another sob. "Was it Bruce?" you whispered again, and leaned into him, resting your head in his lap.

Maxwell dropped his hands into your hair and your eyes fluttered shut under his gentle touch as he softly stroked you. "It's so much more." Maxwell admitted, his voice breaking slightly. "Bruce's words tipped me over the edge. This time of the year is already so hard and my mother… at the gala…."

"What did she do, Max?" you stood up from the floor and pulled a chair up so you could sit next to him.

"She always puts these ideas in my head," Maxwell admitted. "Fuck- I should know better. My whole life she's tried controlling me. And I know it's wrong but I still let her get in my head."

"What ideas?"

"It's always been about my father. Didn't want me to make the same mistakes he made. So she'd do everything in her power to ensure that, no matter what, I put the business first. She tells me it's my legacy. That I must finish what my father started. And my grandfather. And if I don't- if I don't, then I've failed them."

"Your father… Bruce mentioned him." your voice was quiet and you didn't know whether or not you were overstepping by bringing it up.

"Did he tell you what happened?" Maxwell asked you and you shook your head. "Because it's not public information. Bruce only knows because his family… his parents helped my mother cover it up."

"Cover what up?" you asked, almost afraid of how he was going to answer.

"The suicide." Maxwell deadpanned, looking at you with glossy eyes.

"Your father?" you were speechless, your heart breaking at his words.

"Yeah." Maxwell replied. "I was sixteen."

"Why?"

"I don't know… he. He never left a note." Maxwell crossed his arms over his chest. "I- I'm sorry. I've never spoken about this before. My mother chose to cover up the suicide because she said it would bring shame on the business."

"Shame? But it's- it's not shameful. It's…" you were really struggling to find words, all you could do was console Maxwell, as your friend if nothing more. "Your mother does not get to choose your legacy." You told Maxwell, taking his hands and squeezing them gently. "This is your life Max. Don't let her control it."

"I freaked out on you at the gala because my mother came and she told me that I should leave you-" Maxwell paused before correcting himself. "Fire you. I mean. I don't know. She told me that the weakness in my father was his love for his family, and his love for her, and his love for me. She told me my grandfather was the same and now- she sees that weakness in me. She blames you. Says I've been different since we began our arrangement," Maxwell scoffed. "She says you distract me. I didn't realise it at first. But I think she's right." Maxwell looked up at you, teary eyed. "She thinks if I marry Margaret sales will boost and… once again she's right."

You felt yourself freeze up. "Max…" you whispered, not knowing what to say or how to even process his words. Was he about to terminate the contract? Was he going to tell you to walk away and leave?

"I can't-" Maxwell choked out a sob. " I can't let her keep controlling me. After seeing you with Bruce, I was so fucking afraid of losing you for good and it was all her fault. I won't choose between you and the company. And she can't make me choose. But you know, if I had to? Fuck. I'd choose you."

"Maxwell don't be ridiculous," You shook your head sadly. He'd had a lot to drink. He was emotional. He couldn't be meaning these words. "You're an amazing CEO, look at the greatness that you've led Black Gold Cooperative to. Front page of Forbes three years in a row. No business in history has earned as much as yours in profit. You've done this by yourself. Sure your ancestors founded Black Gold, but Max, you've been working your ass off since you were sixteen."

"I don't want to hear it," Maxwell cut you off and took another sip of his whiskey. "I just want to make my father proud. I loved him so much." he sniffed.

"Your mother said that your father's love for his family was his weakness. But I believe that it was his strength. That warmth in his heart he passed down to you, and Max, I'm so glad he did. Because I feel it. I feel your compassion. I feel your love. Before we met everyone said you were cold and distant… but you've shown me more care in the past ten days than I've felt in my whole life." You smiled at him and he gazed longingly into your eyes. "In the end, your father cared more about protecting your family than running the risk of exploiting Black Gold Cooperative. He chose love over his business. And for that reason, I know your father would be proud of you because I'm proud of you."

"Nobody has ever told me that they're proud of me."

"They haven't?" You furrowed your brows together and Maxwell shook his head sadly. You wrapped your arms around him and he nuzzled his face into your shoulders.

"You've shown me what love can feel like." Maxwell mumbled into your skin. "Never- never believed in it until I met you."

"Oh Max," you felt a tear slip down your cheek.

Max pulled away from you and cupped his hands around your face. He whispered your name and gently brushed his nose against yours.

"I think," Maxwell swallowed. "No. I know. I know that I've fallen deeply in love with you."

Taglists: let me know if you wish to be added!

December Magic: @100layersofdaddyissues @mrschiltoncat @honeymandos @thisisthe-wayson @this-cat-is-dea @blonde2bomshell @maiyaaaa0130

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #ww84 #wonder woman 1984

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honourablejester · 3 years ago

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HOMEBREW PLANT MONSTER: LANGUORLON

If anyone’s wondering why all the plants lately, the answer is green dragons. Fizban’s putting in that thing where they’re the gardener dragons and like to decorate their hoards/lairs with plant life is just *chef’s kiss*. So basically this is just me coming up with gnarly plant monsters to scatter around a green dragon’s lair/territory. This one, particularly, is also a little bit inspired by the field of poppies in The Wizard of Oz.

LANGUORLON

Languorlons are beautiful psychic plants that lure unwitting creatures in and put them to sleep in order to feed on their dreams. Believed to have originated in the Feywild, these strange plants can survive almost anywhere their seeds have been carried, needing only enough soil to hide beneath as a seedling and a consistent source of prey to survive thereafter.

Languorlons are quite beautiful, appearing as a low, knee-height mass of delicate green vines blooming with beautiful, faintly luminescent blue-white flowers. These flowers exist year-round, as they do not serve a reproductive function for the plant, and only exist to lure prey into their grasp.

Languorlons spend the first part of their lifecycle below ground, hiding beneath the soil for several months until they’ve grown large enough to venture above the soil and begin enticing prey. They emit a magical, slumberous aura around them, in hopes that intelligent creatures will wander into the grasp and fall asleep within their vines. Once a creature has fallen asleep in their aura, the Languorlon will feed on the psychic energy of their dreams until its prey has perished of thirst, hunger or exposure. The Languorlon’s slumberous energy is so potent that not even damage or threat to life can awaken its prey. Only a desperate effort of will, the death of the Languorlon, or being removed from its aura can awaken a Languorlon’s victims.

Languorlons are also quite intelligent. Though their one and only priority is usually feeding, they can be quite clever in their methods. Through the substance of the dreams they feed on, Languorlons are aware of many of the desires of thinking creatures, and it is not uncommon for Languorlons to keep armour, weapons or other desireable objects from previous victims visible within their vines to lure future prey closer, while hiding the bodily remains in the soil beneath them. They are also willing to make ‘deals’ or let their prey go if said prey offers to bear one of their psychic seeds out into the world, or promises to send more prey in their direction. Creatures such as green dragons and dusk hags often enjoy allowing Languorlons to seed in or around their lairs or territories to provide a hazard for pesky intruders.

Languorlons require live prey, and they are loath to damage sleeping prey unnecessarily. They will usually only attack with intent to harm or kill if they are hurt themselves, or if a creature is attempting to steal their prey from them.

STATBLOCK: LANGUORLON

Large/Huge/Gargantuan Plant, unaligned

Armour Class 14 (natural armour)

Hit Points 61 (9d10+12) (Medium) / 90 (12d12+12) (Large) / 170 (15d20+12) (Gargantuan)

Speed 0ft

Size Languorlons vary in size depending on age. They range from 10ft in diameter when first emerging above-ground, to 20ft in diameter as a mature plant, to a mass of vines covering an area up to 60ft in diameter as they grow well-established

STR 16 (+3) DEX 6 (-2) CON 16 (+3) INT 16 (+3) WIS 12 (+1) CHA 8 (-1)

Damage Vulnerabilities fire

Damage Resistances psychic, poison

Condition Immunities blinded, deafened, paralyzed, prone

Senses blindsight within the range of its Languorous Aura

Languages telepathy within the range of its Languorous Aura

Challenge 4 (1,100 XP)

Proficiency Bonus +2

FEATURES

False Appearance. While the Languorlon remains motionless, it is indistinguishable from a normal mass of undergrowth.

Tangled Vines. The area physically covered by the Languorlon counts as difficult terrain. Movement speed that is not a flying speed is halved in this area.

Languorous Aura. The Languorlon surrounds itself with a spherical magical aura 10ft larger in diameter than its own size. Every creature which enters or starts its turn in the aura must make a DC 13 Wisdom saving throw. On a failed save, the creature immediately falls unconscious and cannot be woken until one of the following conditions has been met: the Languorlon dies, the creature dies, or the creature is dragged out of the radius of the aura. Creatures who have fallen unconscious due to this effect may repeat the saving throw at the end of each of their turns, and the effect ends on a successful save. Constructs and creatures who cannot be magically put to sleep are immune to this effect.

Psychic Seed. Languorlons can reproduce through their prey. A Languorlon can implant a willing creature or a creature that has failed at least one save to its Languorous Aura with a psychic seed. The creature is not aware of this seed unless they willingly chose to bear it. 1d6 days later, the seed invisibly manifests itself from the creature’s mind while the creature is dreaming and plants itself in the earth near where they are sleeping. It will take 1d12 months of growing and spreading underground for the seedling to breach the surface, become visible, and begin taking prey again.

ACTIONS

Multiattack. The Languorlon makes two Psychic Assault attacks.

Psychic Assault. Melee Spell Attack: +5 to hit, reach 5ft, one target. Hit: 16 (3d8+3) psychic damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 13 Wisdom saving throw or take one level of exhaustion. When the target finishes a long rest, it loses every level of exhaustion gained from this attack.

BONUS ACTIONS

Gathering Prey. The Languorlon uses its vines to pull all unconscious creatures within its aura up to 15ft closer to the centre of its mass. If the creature is being held or pulled by a conscious creature, the conscious creature must make a contested strength (athletics) check against the Languorlon. On success, the unconscious creature is not drawn further into the Languorlon.

(NOTE: I’m not sure about the exhaustion on the psychic assault attack, it feels mean. It makes sense from the POV of the Languorlon, since all the effects of exhaustion up to death are things that mean its prey has less chance to rescue other prey or get away and more chance of failing the save against its aura, which is basically all it wants, but it does feel mean. Feel free to drop that part of the attack if you want)

(FURTHER NOTE: again, take the CR with a grain of salt, I’ve no idea how this thing would actually play)

#homebrew #d&d #statblock #plant monsters

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ohpretty-baby · 4 years ago

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oh my gosh. my babysitter's a quarterback was the best thing i've ever read. i need more athlete!jungkook and also maybe the classic nerd!y/n. ty ty

hi darling! i’m sosososo happy that you enjoyed mbaq!! thank you so much for reading it 🥺🥺 athlete!jungkook is quite a beauty.

here’s a little drabble for you as i’m working on a few more fics that aren’t really high school au’s, so i hope you enjoy! <3

it’s nice to write things that are a little more lighthearted shhdhshsh

901 words

a frown is painted on your face as you try to hide yourself under jungkook’s gaze, the embarrassment of it all being too much to handle.

if only you hadn’t dropped your stupid love letter before you left your 7th hour to go to your locker. if only taehyung, jungkook’s best friend and the person sitting next to you in that class, hadn’t seen the big “jungkook” scrawled in black ink on the pink envelope and picked it up with a mischievous grin on his face.

if only he hadn’t given it to jungkook, ruining what little dignity you had in front of your crush.

now jungkook stands before your locker door, forcing you to block out the distracting mess of students trying to pack up their things and leave the school building. you also ignore the strange looks jungkook’s friends are giving you, as it’s certainly weird to see someone like him talking to someone as “insignificant” as you.

he holds up the (now open) pink envelope, his free hand shoved in his pocket, as he stares at you. you can hear the excited, hushed whispers of the people around you as both you and them get ready to hear his rejection of your feelings.

“you, uh,” he starts, “you sure have got a way with words…”

he seems hesitant to speak, eyes not meeting yours. you feel your heart skip a beat, but not in the way you’d like. this wasn’t jungkook’s usual behavior.

instead of jungkook being the confident and direct person, now it’s you.

you had rehearsed this once you noticed the letter was missing from your backpack.

now it was time to bring it to life.

“listen, i really didn’t mean for you to see that,” you close the door in an attempt to seem level headed, but your clammy palms say otherwise, “it was stupid of me to even bring that to school, and you can make fun of me for it. it’s ok.”

you can still feel his friends eyes on you, and you wish they would just piss off and ask about him later. or at least if they could just be a little more subtle about it.

jungkook is still silent, visibly deflated by your words.

“can i have it back now?” you twiddle your thumbs against the straps of your backpack as you speak, “i can throw it away or something, so you can give it back now.”

you reach up to grab it, but a smile quickly spreads on jungkook’s face when he raises his arm up, forcing you to jump so you can reach it. your efforts are futile, however, as jungkook knows a thing or two about reflexes and dodging opponents.

after a few pathetic seconds of you pleading with jungkook to give it back and him being amused by how you just barely reach the envelope everytime you jump, you give up, a soft groan falling from your lips as you hang your head in shame.

this was the last you could handle of jungkook’s neverending teasing.

“jungkook, please,” you stomp your foot on the ground instinctively, “can i just have it back?”

“what if i wanna keep it?”

“w-what.”

“what if i like it?” he asks, tilting his head to the right, “what if i wanna have it?”

“jungkook, what-“

“would you be mad at me? if i kept it?” he continues, his questions getting on your nerves.

“why would you want to keep it?” you roll your eyes, reaching out for it again, “jungkook this is stupid, just give it back-“

“ah, ah, ah,” he wags a finger at you, “you didn’t answer my question.”

“which one?” you deadpan.

“what if i kept it?”

“i’d be embarrassed.”

“why would you be embarrassed?”

“because…?” you say, “that’s my letter?”

“but it’s addressed to me, see? jungkook,” he traces under the name.

“yes, but i wrote that.”

“well it’s for me.”

“i didn’t want you to see it.”

“that’s adorable.”

“no it’s not.”

“yes it is.”

“oh my-“ you almost tear out your hair, “jungkook, please.”

“no.”

“why not?”

“because i like it.”

his words blindsight you, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. your hands become even clammier, and you’re certain that you’d be able to fill a whole glass with just the sweat of your hands alone. the confidence now reappears in jungkook, a bright, goofy grin plastered onto his face.

“what does that mean?”

“you really don’t get out much, do you, sweetheart?”

“i’m not-“

“it means i like you, dummie,” he shakes his head, and despite his words there’s nothing but endearment in his eyes, “i like you a lot, too.”

“huh?”

“you want me to say that again? want me to declare it to the whole world?” he sighs, the smile still present on his face as he raises his hands to his mouth so he can further project his voice, “everyone! i-“

your next words come out like lightning.

“ok, jungkook you can keep the letter, i’m gonna go home now! ok, see you later!” you squeak out, running away from him and briskly pushing past everyone so you can make it to the door.

with that, jungkook is left by himself, laughter bubbling from his lips as he holds the letter close to him, and he makes a mental note to text you right after practice is done.

(sorry lolz this was really cheesy i couldn’t help it!)

#bts drabble #bts fluff #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook fanfiction #baby drabbles <3 #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #i miss doing drabbles #asks #anon

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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years ago

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The Hourglass and The Oracle

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

A spiraling staircase A bold fuchsia beauty Lights flicker in your eyes As our energies collide And, Darling, you're starting to get to me......

I'm not your Darling, John Buy a girl a drink first Before you thirst For what you can't get your hands on Throwing my head back with a laugh You're going to fall And it's going to be too fast Who said I was yours to catch? Ask me again And I'll ask you to dance

May I have a moment of your time? I don't need to be a Strong Creative, Dear To tease your mind A turn of the hourglass A trick of the sublime You're like sand through my hands Sifting too fast to touch And it's not enough...... You're the exceptional exception When I say we're hard to love.

Sparks fly Drawing you in I'll make you believe in magic again Fate's siren song calls to the Hourglass Man I guess it's my turn To show you my hand But be forewarned, My Gentleman Friend There's no telling what happens When you open the door to the static You might not want the answer Once you have it Shaking the bag Rolling the Dice A cigarette burn is a more than fair price To watch time drain from the Hourglass' eyes Clutching the hurt As your knife catches my eye Shattering your glass Scattering your sand Close your eyes, You Hopeless Flirt This is me, skipping dessert I gotta say you put up one hell of a fight Say goodnight, John You've run out of time

CHECK. FREAKING. MATE!!!!! Ladies and Gentlemen, the MATCH has been called, and the Hourglass didn't stand a chance against the Woman of the Hour, Our Dauntless Oracle, and very own, Miss Margaret Leigh!!! My GOD, Maggie seized her time to shine in a dazzling foray of sultry seduction, and deadly spectacle, and while it may have been The Hourglass' last bow, it was the iridescent ORACLE who stole the show, and she alone deserves our standing ovation!!! I LOVED this episode, beginning to end, the intrigue, the sleek deception, the intense human drama, all beautifully intertwined in this beguiling game within a game, a chess match of like-minded Creative prowess!!! Brava, Miss Leigh, and bravissimo, NOS4A2, for spoiling us yet again!!! "The Hourglass," is a violin overture of vulnerable human moments, and intellectual powerplays, reaching the fever pitch of the most ghastly, scream-bloody-murder cliff hangar of the entire series.

Where last week Charlie was the blunt force trauma, the pounding hammer, smashing everyone and everything in his path to Wayne, Maggie is the stealth strike, the seductively wielded scalpel, removing Charlie's secret weapon with lethal precision, after he proves to be the more immediate threat to her best friend, now that Charlie's absconded with her son. She's a force to be reckoned with, a fuchsia femme fatale, as lovely as she is deadly, the perfect rosé of coy and coquettish as she flirts with time and death itself. It was her finest hour, hands down, and I LOVED that NOS4A2 gave her the spotlight, and that she literally KILLED, leaving us begging for more.

Stop me if you've heard this one before. Two Strong Creatives walk into a bar........ Like an ingenue reminiscent of Old Hollywood, with every lilac strand of her rebellious florescence pinned in place, Maggie descends the long, spiral staircase, sending the lights to flicker, and drawing the eye of an instantly intrigued, Mr. Hourglass. I must say, The Hourglass Man's smooth, and tenacious pursuit of our Maggie, was a FANTASTIC blindsight, a surprise I never saw coming!!! Where I expected a smouldering duel to the death as soon as their eyes met, knives flying, I found myself drawn instead, irresistibly into the tantalizing tango between the two of them. Their witty repartee was both sparkling, and sharp-edged, as John advanced, and Maggie countered, playing hard to get, while secretly drawing him in. It's thrilling to watch, marveling at these seemingly unlikely lovers, and yet, with each move and countermove, I could see how much they thought alike, both crafty intellectuals, who knew how to play the game, and how to win.

"We're hard to love. People fall for us because of our abilities, but they always come to fear the very thing that drew them in. They tell us to tone it down, betray our gifts, like declawing a cat. It's cruel."

This is my favourite line in the entire episode, it struck me straight to the heart, tears in my eyes, overwhelmed by its tragic beauty and excruciating truth. It's also the one time that Maggie's smoky-eyed seductive veil slips, and she lets herself feel something very real. In that moment, as fleeting as it is, there are no sides, no waiting plots, or poised vendettas. There are two Strong Creatives, two kindred supernatural beings with very human feelings. Victims of their own gifts, with universal wants, and desires. Powers greater than their wildest dreams, but at what cost? In this moment, Maggie cares about John, connects with him, because she feels these words burn emblazoned, even hotter than the cigarette he's about to press into her arm.

Two Strong Creatives walk into a bar....... and only one comes out alive. These two take, "Get a room," to a whole new level!!! "I'm not going to hurt you, unless you want me to........." John says smoothly, before pressing a lit cigarette into Maggie's arm, telling her to harness the pain, let it consume her, until it's all she knows, and then whispers his question like a sweet nothing in her ear, nuzzling her close. John, with all of his scheming predilections and parlor tricks has found a way to cheat the Strong Creative check when it comes due. In event of seizures, or memory loss, you can hurt yourself...... or hurt someone else. I had always secretly suspected this proviso, I even wrote it into my own NOS4A2 Series, that my character's compassion gets punished by unknowingly hurting someone else, every time she uses her gift, but seeing John's shocking demonstration, breathing in with explicit pleasure as he burns her, watching Maggie's big brown eyes spark, both excited, and relieved that she can hurt herself and still use her powers, was an absolute ordeal. I have a feeling Maggie just discovered a dangerous new addiction........

Speaking of ordeals........ John shatters a glass table, ready to kill the messenger, when he doesn't get the answer that he wants, the fates formally denying his request for immortality. And it is here, in the midst of his ruffled, heartbroken, rage, that the events deviated dramatically from my own predictions. I thought Charlie had promised him immortality in exchange for killing Vic McQueen, and that Maggie had unwittingly unmasked this betrayal, proving Charlie had lied, offering the Creative Holy Grail that he intended to keep for himself. Immortality, apparently a non-transferrable work benefit. With our slighted Hourglass primed for revenge, and his particular fascination for Maggie, I thought for sure she'd be able to turn him against Charlie, brandish the Hourglass against his new business partner, rallying him to Vic's cause, and more or less, have him join Team McQueen to take Manx down once and for all.

I was wrong...... So, so wrong. I don't think any of us saw what was coming....... "It's rare I get such a hands on opportunity," John rasps, once he finds his stolen knife in Maggie's bag, teasing seduction climaxing into a crime of passion, as the two of them scrapple and scrape for the hourglass. "Sweetheart, give up. You're not getting out of here alive." Maggie gets choked, hurled over the shattered glass table, but you can't keep a good girl down, and The Hourglass is no Charlie Manx. "I tried to warn you, John, my tiles are never wrong." Maggie thrusts a shard of glass up into the Hourglass Man's heart, and with an anguished, hopeless cry he watches her stomp his knife into the ground, coming down on it hard, leaving nothing but shattered glass, and scattered sand. WOW........ I am speechless. I have to admit, I did not expect Charlie's new player and point man to be vanquished this early in the game, as awestruck as I am by this new fearless facet of Maggie's unique brilliance. She was elegant, badass, and beautiful, and I'm so glad he's dead, but I don't know....... I felt like his death was his third and final disappointment. Sorry John, we'll always have Parnassus.

Oh my God, if Maggie was this episode's Oscar Winner for Best Actress, Linda Freaking McQueen WINS for Best Supporting Actress!!!! She's the other sassy heroine of "The Hourglass," mouthing off to FBI agents like nobody's business, and it is SENSATIONAL!!!! "What does FBI stand for, huh? Failed. Bad. Incompetent? We're Americans!!! My husband works for the postal service, I go to CHURCH!!! Do better!!!" You TELL 'EM Linda!!! She's a delight in every scene she's in, standing up to the suits, and telling them what's what!!! She's had it with these big, fancy, feds not protecting her daughter, and she ain't afraid to get vocal about it. Aaaaaah and the whole conversation with her and Chris was AMAZING!!! There is something so fascinating about two hard knock realists, two complete skeptics talking about the possibility of the Supernatural.

"There's a difference between special, Chris, and magic. Our daughter ain't magic."

"How would you know?"

"Because I wiped her snotty nose, for Christ's sake!!! What kind of mother misses something like that?"

"The kind that's too busy hiding bruises and paying bills to look up."

Linda's emphatic disbelief is so perfect, and I just love the way she says that, "Our daughter ain't magic!" I also love how Chris is starting to believe in Vic, and it's that burgeoning faith in his daughter's abilities that makes Linda start to wonder if maybe her daughter could be magic. Chris owning up to his past mistakes, and blaming himself, for his wife's oversight, was such a bittersweet moment too, wanting so badly to let her off the hook. He's changed, they both have, and I couldn't be more proud. Another beautifully human moment that I really loved was between her and Vic, and here we finally find out why the McQueen women can't be close to each other. "I never felt that you needed me." It's a rare, deeply insightful look into Linda's heart, a vulnerable truth, and I feel like I know them both even better through it. Linda needs to be needed, she needs to have somebody to take care of, somebody that relies on her, and with a drunk, philandering husband who sought comfort elsewhere, and a fiercely independent daughter, Linda had no one. She felt listless, without purpose, and thus drowned her sorrows with a tipped back bottle.

The scene with Vic and Lou cuddling in his hospital bed also strikes a chord in this veritable symphony of human emotion, and with every new episode, I ship Team McCarmody even harder!!! Lou with a stint in his heart, and Vic with a concussion, and injured spleen, have this impossibly sweet moment, in the midst of the aftermath and ever-present horror of the abduction of their son. I love how they anchor each other, try to calm each other down, and still manage to make each other laugh.

"Han Solo ain't half the mechanic as Lou Carmody."

"Did you- Did you just refer to yourself in the third person...... and rate yourself....... ABOVE Han Solo?"

Vic's laugh in that moment is so pure, and a much needed relief, as she holds onto the love, the teddy bear of a man, that Charlie couldn't take from her, and in that moment, she decides to focus on what she has left, even while fighting for what she has lost. I'm reminded of a quote from my other favourite show, HEROES. "We're human first, and heroes second."

Charlie may take a back seat this episode, but he is still a coaxing, debonair presence with a teasing linger, and not without another clever trick up his sleeve. "There is no need to hide your cellular telephone from me, My Boy," He coos as Wayne fumbles to sneak a call to his Mom. I was SHOCKED when Charlie urged Young Bats to do just that, call his mother. "What kind of MONSTER do you take me for?" He asks silkily, feigning indignance, and with bated breath, we wait as the phone rings, and rings, and rings...... No way in HELL is Vic not taking that call, and yet, Young Master Wayne hangs his wildly curly head, defeated, as the call goes unanswered. "She's a real heartbreaker, your mother...... isn't she? Never there for you, no matter how good you are. It's not personal, Wayne. In the end Vic McQueen cares only for herself and no one else," Charlie chortles, and he knows it's working....... bit by bit, he means to turn his new favourite charge, against his own mother, convince him of her neglect and indifference. My theory? Charlie can block calls using his creative power, which would explain how he's avoided capture, and the FBI's modern trappings for so long. You sneaky, sneaky boy!!!

OH HELLO CRAIG!!!! Yes, you read that right...... CRAIG, Wayne's father who burned to death in the Wraith, like a ghastly apparition appears to his son, with singed skin, and glazed over eyes. At first I thought this was Charlie manipulating Wayne, showing what his mother did to his father, and how he wasn't ever going to be safe with her, but to my own astonishment, Charlie could not see him!!! Craig encourages Wayne, tells him Charlie's lying, gives him hope, and insists she's coming for him. I thought that was a spectacular, wide-eyed SHOCK that came out of thin air, and I couldn't help but think about how Cassie appeared to her daughter in this same way........ Hmmm can children, if they are Strong Creatives themselves, see the parents they have lost at the hands of Charlie Manx? Curiouser and curiouser........

My breath caught, everything going numb, when that bloody tooth fell out in Wayne's tiny hand. I LOVE that little boy with all my heart and soul, and I'm sorry, Charlie, but I do NOT want him to become a vampire!!! Wayne starts to change in other ways too, playing with a butterfly, as his usual cheerful self, adorably naming him Sunny, before killing it, ripping it into shreds, his sweet little face devoid of any emotion. WHAT!? I had chills like crazy, and I felt heartsick. I don't know though, did anybody else think that butterfly looked strange, almost not quite real? The way the Wraith rolled down the window to let it in...... It makes me wonder if this didn't just happen in Wayne's mind.

I did notice though, how long it took for the Wraith to siphon off Wayne's youth to heal the nasty gash on Charlie's cheek. Even Charlie starts to worry, checking the mirror again and again, only to find it slightly healed, and it's not until the near end of the episode that he looks one more time, nails resting on the side of his head, sighing into his hand with relief, when he sees his once again flawless visage staring back. It's like Wayne is fighting the car, slowing down its effects, because no child has gone this long without turning!!! All exciting further proof that Wayne HAS to be a Strong Creative!!! I also love how Charlie continues to be the perfect, doting father figure, ever so careful and patient with Wayne, and I just melted, with a besotted sigh when he asked him if he had to use the water closet!" That was precious!!! Also, my new FAVOURITE thing ever, is Charlie click-clacking his long, gorgeous nails along the Wraith's windows as he walks past it!!! Dear GOD, Handsome, WHAT are you doing to me!?

THAT ending though........ I'm crying....... I SOBBED, I'm so not okay. What the freaking HELL.........!?!? Just as we're all having cozy Charlie and Wayne feelings, fawning over them both, that DAMNED BASTARD Bing Partridge comes out of NOWHERE surprising our dashing vampire, shoving the gas hose in his face, and he goes down HARD!!!! Once he's disabled the Wraith, he abducts Charlie, and leaves Wayne behind. It's blood-curdling to watch....... knowing what horrors Bing has already committed, and what dark intention he holds for his once upon a time hero, now that Charlie's left him to die. I'm freaking scared. I was hyperventilating, and full of murderous fury even hours after the episode had ended. The wait for next week is going to hit a lot different, after that cruel cliff-hanger, and I can only hope Charlie can dangle Christmasland in an effort to thwart Bing's fat, homicidal hand. Bing Partridge, you hateful Son of a BITCH, if you disturb so much as one strand of Charlie's beautiful raven hair, I'm gonna KILL you SO DEAD!!! Time's run out for the Hourglass, will another of Vic's foes meet the same fate? Bing Partridge must DIE!!! Somebody......... SAVE CHARLIE MANX!!!!!

#nos4a2 review #charlie manx #maggie leigh #vic mcqueen #linda mcqueen #wayne mcqueen #bing partridge #save charlie #the hourglass

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