#but again like for me the mindset is. my job is to Do My Best. which will be VERY UNIMPRESSIVE compared to what’s on the screen!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

forthelostones · 3 months ago

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𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺ 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 #9

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. listen,,, i am actively doing a masters i apologize!!! i've recently stopped using grammarly for a more real writing experience. so if things are wonky, just know thats why! no more ai help. this isnt my BEST but.

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. cry to me by loleatta holloway♫

I was completely dazed, hoping that I won’t crash into a brick wall anytime soon. The images from last night were on a constant reply behind my eyes. I’m sure she has no idea or at least I hope that she doesn’t but when I got up to go to the bathroom, I saw her. She was standing in my shower letting brushing her hands against her body, tracing the lines of her hips with what I presume was my soap. The door was slightly ajar although the steam hid her, which I was thankful for, a perverse part of my brain wish it wasn’t. But her outline was more than enough. The feeling wasn’t anger towards her but frustration all again within me being a creep and internal moral conflict.

As I tossed in bed, I listened to her feet pad around the hardwood and finally settle in the living room. After rolling back and forth multiple times I found a comfortable position and let my mind drift away void of any lingering thoughts. Images of her continuously flashed in my mind, it was inappropriate, unprofessional, a conflict of interest. My shoulders dropped instantly as we pulled into her driveway, she left me alone and I pressed my head against the seat.

Once I ended my call with Henrietta and confirmed today’s appointment, she reappeared dressed in black jeans, baby blue cotton button up rolled to the elbow, hair out of her face and ears decorated with gold jewelry and minimal makeup. A soft tote bag thrown over her shoulder slipped off ever so slightly as she opened the door — I itched to get out and do it for her, it didn’t feel right to see her open it on her own. Up close she looked honey-drenched from a soft golden shimmer highlighted on the peaks of her face. I swallowed roughly.

“Are you nervous?” I ask, hoping the breaking the silence will help me feel normal.

“Not at all,” She says plainly.

“Were you nervous your first time Ms. Anderson?” She stares out the window.

I chuckle. “Depends.”

“My mindset is there is nothing I can’t do. I can have it all, you know.”

“I remember my first project after Grandad died, I took over his small crew of chauvinistic dicks. They all acted like I gave him the cancer, that was the hardest part, getting the job done even though I was surrounded by people who couldn’t care less if I died too. A lot of time I was at sites overnight, fixing mistakes they made on purpose, juggling multiple contracts, grieving,” I grip the wheel tighter remembering the level of mental turmoil I was put through. Funeral arrangements, emotionally manipulative girlfriend, underpaid… “I don’t think I had time to be nervous, I had to be strong immediately. Let them call me horrible names and make those jokes to prove a point,”

A small Henrietta came into view waving a small, saggy arm quickly. She was so cute.

“That’s Mrs. Harris, she’s quite the character.” I add.

Without time to complete our conversation we both step out with haste.

“Welcome ladies, now I don’t remember this fine young lady before.”

“Hi Ms. Harris, I’m Ms. Anderson’s new assistant, nice meeting you.” She smiles brightly and genuinely.

“Perfect, you can meet my daughter Nora then, she’s making iced tea.”

My face contorts with confusion as we take our shoes off at the door to walk into the kitchen. Lemon lady, Nora, looks up and our faces share similar confusion. I scratch at a sliver of my exposed arm.

“Abigail,” She manages to grunt.

“Oh—What? You two know each other?” Her mother questions.

“‘Ma were actually neighbors,”

Mrs. Harris gasps theatrically and slams her hand over her chest and praises silently to herself.

“We are.” I confirm.

Nora’s tanned skin was deep and rusty, causing her light brown eyes to pop even more. I saw her beauty in its fullness as she pranced from around the island in a hot pink wrap dress.

“So, what the hell!” Henrietta laughs, wrapping a causal arm around my new assistant.

“In passing we speak but not fully, I definitely don’t know you, hi.”

I had never payed attention to how raspy her voice was - sultry. Her long lashes fluttered as two parts of my new world began to collide instantly and explode right in my face. Nora’s full 'fro was painted with a stroke of grey around the edges of her hairline feathering outwards. Her femininity was palpable, she floated on her lavender painted toes around the kitchen, finally making it to me. I had to look downwards slightly to meet her gaze.

“Hi,” She twinkles softly.

“Well, hello there. I started to find it suspicious that I didn’t receive a crate of lemons recently.”

She laughs behind a soft manicured hand that then brushes slightly against my bicep. “I’m starting limes now.”

For some reason I blushed.

We sat in the tastily aquatic themed living room where I sat with all three ladies to have further discussion, even now I didn’t want to, I wanted to hear Nora’s voice again. A small tingle danced on my body from all the pleasantries Nora and I had ran into from simply speaking. No awkward waves or glances and I felt … a bit nervous. Her femininity was fragrant and I pictured those short nails piercing into my skin as I flatten her curls into a pillowcase.

Iced tea sat center on to coffee table that I sipped while avoiding any glances in Nora’s direction, undressing her with my eyes in front of her mother would be absolutely inappropriate — which made it harder. As I slipped on my specs to read some notes I made after meeting with Henrietta I felt two flaming gazes traveling in my direction. One of them mutual and one of them not, a fantasy living in my dreamscape.

“‘Ma I won’t be moving back in anytime soon, but if you worked on the guest bedroom, maybe I could stay over more often?” Nora groaned.

Henrietta melted into her seat sadly at the final conclusion.

“Fine. Abby, would that be something you have time to do?” She asked.

“Let me check our calendar and call you.”

“Or call Nora!”

I giggled a bit and looked to my newest edition force a soft grin at the non-business related topic at hand. The sheer enthusiasm from her mother told me everything that I needed to know, Nora had been single for far too long, living a bit sedentary like me. Luckily for me, I didn’t have any parents anymore to nag me about it.

Nora slipped on tan criss-cross sandals to walk us outside to the door, where we headed for the truck, but not just before she gripped my bicep. I turn with hot curiosity to the woman who now stands slightly above me the peak of the morning glistening on her face.

“Sorry, she can be a bit dramatic.” She apologies.

“It’s perfectly fine, it’s good you still have her,” I add.

“Listen Abby, this blind date was unusual but I feel like we can take a drink and learn more about each other. Or I could cook you breakfast this weekend, whatever you want.” She smiled.

I nodded casually but was internally on the brink of combustion, her initiative surprised me and I was upset I couldn’t approach her first, but I was pleased.

“Absolutely, your mom took the liberty of texting me your contact so no worries I’ll be in touch.” I mimic her soft smile.

“Perfect. Hope to hear from you soon.”

“Whatever we decide to do I’d love to see you in some lavender.” I wriggle my fingers.

She nods her head and my knees could’ve buckled then and there but instead I step back and turn to face the truck.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Sorry.”

I jog slightly to the truck and unlock the door for my poor assistant who had to see the most unprofessional display of interaction with a client on her first day. I cut the AC on quickly and lean back in the driver’s seat to look over at her. But I couldn’t read her, was she upset or confused? I couldn’t tell.

“How about we get you home, I’m headed—“

“Could you take me to Ellie’s? She’s just off the second exit on the highway.” She request then buckles her seatbelt.

“Of course.”

—

Last night I promised myself to sort through the regular onboarding paperwork so I could pay my new addition for her time as soon as possible. I sat in an empty house under the hum of central air under me as I sort out the forms, some that I needed her to sign. Realistically, I could send the PDF to her email or invite her over so I can see her again. I look over to my empty wine glass and the sticky red residue settled at the bottom of the cup. My stomach tightened for the third time, but I can’t ignore it, I needed to get dinner in order.

8:53 p.m.: Need you to fill out some forms for me.

Instead of sitting and watching grey bubbles appear and disappear, I started on sorting my grocery order I placed when I came back. After my third glass of wine I decided to make a lemon garlic pasta after reading one recipe and certain that it was simple enough for me to do tonight.

I found a beer in hand and my phone in another with a caldron of a pot boiling over to the stove top. Chopped lemons lifted the scent in the house from rich to light and sweet as it grew dry on the counter. A bell-sound came from my phone and I jumped at the opportunity to read it but was highly unaware of my own mess.

“Fuck,” I holler, my screen now covered in lemon juice.

I drop my phone down on the counter amongst the ingredients and pick my angel hair pasta up, the package slips out of my hand and the threads of hard yellow sticks hit the floor. I watch them spread and roll to wherever they pleased.

My door bell hummed at the front of the house and I slightly jogged to catch it, I wasn’t expecting her to pop up now, especially in a moment like this, shit.

“Hey, I wasn’t—“

“Oh.” Nora smiled timidly.

“Nora, wow, hi.”

“Seems like you were expecting someone. I can dip out…” She offers.

“Um,” I wipe my fingers against the dish towel thrown over my shoulder. “Not at all come in.”

I slip to the side and welcome her in. Her choice of loungewear was black linen pants and an oversized Howard University sweatshirt. She left her UGG slippers near the front door and crossed her arms as she admired the room.

“Cooking or attempting to, um, in the kitchen if you wanna join me. Want a drink?”

The water in the pot dulled, most of it gone into the atmosphere or on the stove itself.

“Oh gosh, Abigail,” Nora rushed to gather the stray pasta. “I’ve never seen anyone struggle like this to cook noodles.”

If anyone else would’ve said that, I would have been highly offended but her non judgmental tone soothed me. She held them out like a bouquet before handing them to me to toss in the trash. Without thought she turned the heat off and refilled the pot carefully in the sink and carried it back.

“I have pasta in my pantry, it’s capellini if that’s okay?”

“Perfect.” I smile, clueless of what that is.

As soon as she closed the door I jolted off to the bathroom to freshen up. Stepping in front of the mirror was a live horror show. My braid was veering off to the side with flying hairs sticking up around my crown. Quickly, I untangled my hair, brushed it out and threw on more deodorant.

Nora was natural in the kitchen with her tea towel tucked in her waistband and using knives that have about as much action as me in the last five years. She brought over a much more adult bottle of a 2012-something and taught me how to identify the notes. I stood over her shoulder, watching her wrist make a swift motion out of a steel pan she brought from her home. The fragrant lemon sauce was coming together well with diced shallots and what I believe was fresh thyme, from her home garden.

She taught me how to properly swirl and plate the right portion and then store it for the days to come. We gathered at my dining table, slightly tipsy, but overjoyed at the fresh grated parmigiana’s compliment to the wine. Her lips were coated in the smooth sauce and her tongue grazed against them to clear off the residue. “I don’t remember my last home cooked meal.” I admit, chewing behind my hand.

“That’s a shame,” she sighed.

“Well, nope I just lied. My assistant’s parents invited me over for dinner, so I guess that counts. I think I was referring to more so inside of my own home.”

“Do most of your clients prepare food for you?” She chuckled uncomfortable.

“Uh, not meals but drinks, snacks, of course. They’re getting a bathroom demo and it’s a little bit exciting and I’ll be spending a bunch of time there — to be fair, I wasn’t the priority receiver of their kindness, they threw a party and invited me.”

"Great because mom can't cook." She smirked.

She twirled the last bits of the noodles around her fork and sat back to glance over to me, her hand slightly grazing her belly. My alcohol intake was far too high in the last couple of days and it was making me more and more malleable. I chewed on the corner of my lip as Nora’s eyes poured into mine seductively.

“I am overjoyed Nora, thank you.” I mumbled, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

“Me too, I’m glad I stopped by.”

I scooted my chair out to collect our dishes as her hand reached out to stop me.

“Abigail, why don’t you get that after you walk me to my door?”

All the blood rushed out of me as her dark voice beckoned me to obey.

“Well, yes ma’am.”

Nora shuffled in front of me and led me to her property, covered in healthy plants and garden decor. I guess I never really looked at the items in her yard but she had a landscaping talent.

“This is me.” She smiled before turning towards me and crossing her arms as she does.

“I’m happy to have shared a nice meal with you. Thanks for saving my dinner.”

Nora casually tucked a stray hair floating on the side of my temple and pulled it back behind my ear. “Abigail, I just followed the recipe.”

I leaned down to place a long, intentional kiss onto her right cheek, her hands came to my shoulders briefly and back to her sides as I stepped away.

“I’ll wait to see you fully in.” I gestured to her door.

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

You were waiting outside for over thirty minutes, banging your fist against Ms. Anderson’s door. One of her truck’s was in the driveway and nothing seemed out of order outside, so you were confused as to why she wasn’t coming to the door.

All your calls went straight to voicemail meaning it was dead or she turned it off entirely. You do a combination of doorbell ringing and phone calling until the door flies open. Abby stood in an unusually silky black robe with a metal baseball bat. Her usually perfectly primped hair was matted and sticking to her skin. She sighed in audible relief that it was just me.

“I heard banging,” She winced and covered her eyes with her palm.

“I’ve been calling and banging for almost an hour.” You move past her.

Wine glasses and dirty plates came in to view and a sinking feeling dropped in your belly. She had her neighbor over, she got to have dinner with Abby, touch her, kiss her, and by the looks of it fuck her too.

#lesbian #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x you #abby smut #abby the last of us #tlou abby #wlw ns/fw #abby anderson #wlw and nblw only

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mach-talk · 4 months ago

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JRWI fans, tell me if this is something that makes sense to you: I think Dakota Cole is the first superhero in a VERY long time to feel like an actual superhero.

⚠️Spoilers ahead for both seasons of Prime Defenders, if you haven’t finished it already, what are you doing here?! Go watch it!!⚠️

I think Grizzly did a phenomenal job in his research of superhero media before making Dakota, and that research really paid off for how real Dakota feels as not just a hero, but as a person. Season 1 made me fall in love with the characters and the story, but as an avid Marvel skeptic, season 2 made me believe in the superhero genre again.

I’ve talked about my disdain for modern superhero movies before, but to condense it, I feel like they don’t really feel like HEROES as much as “the lesser of two evils in a fight that’s destroying a city.” A lot of modern heroes feel too gritty and gloomy, not the symbols of hope they’re meant to be, but only focusing on the reluctance of their position.

Dakota Cole’s story is different to me: we’re able to see all sides of it, the good and the bad, and spend enough time in those moments to feel what he feels. His story feels so perfect to the Hero’s Journey, both in what we start out with and what we learn along the way.

First and foremost, I’m grateful to see heroes that WANT to be heroes again, not just to save one person or some moral obligation, but for the sake of wanting to do good and help others. Prime Defenders as a whole is such a breath of fresh air in the superhero genre for its message, and it gets to the heart of what makes superhero movies good. It feels, for lack of a better word, colorful. In a world of low light and gritty heroes making hard decisions, we get moments like the fight for New Haven where the heroes came together with the sword to defeat the planet, or the showdown with Powerhouse, while we get silly moments like the Wasp Vs Bee debate or the chaos portal in the Winnebago. That doesn’t mean we don’t get dark or gritty scenes, of course- I’m still deeply impacted by Ashe’s sacrifice to save everyone, William’s spiral with his brother, and (most relevant to this rant) Dakota’s surgery. But because we got to see the whimsy and the heart behind the heroes, it just made all of those moments so much more impactful.

Dakota Cole, though, feels to me like the result of dissecting the superhero genre and finding what makes it so appealing and meaningful to people. He is, upon first glance, hopeful and confident, optimistic perhaps to a fault, and wants to see the best in people and bring out that goodness. He starts with a very rigid view of what good and evil is, but as his mindset shifts, we see him open up to other ideas of what goodness means to him.

You’d think this would immediately fall apart when he goes through the heartbreak and disillusionment of losing someone to a villain, and that’s what we see with Ashe’s loss in season 1. He is clearly devastated by the loss, but is the first to believe that they can bring him back. He even says it as some of his last words to Ashe before he becomes The Trickster- “Don’t forget that you have somewhere to come back to.” After the loss, though, he’s only more motivated to save his friend. He goes to train and get stronger, and is the one to suggest getting him back. Throughout season 2, as well, we see the backstory that had been set up throughout season 1 come back to the front, and how it impacts him not only as a hero, but as a regular person. His love for his aunt, his attitude towards others, his willingness to sacrifice…

The first thing that he did for himself, in my opinion, was the heart surgery to keep himself alive, and even that wasn’t all for him; it was largely to help William rather than just staying alive. But he was so desperate to help others that he found the thing he needed to learn most in order to be the hero the world needed: patience. His heart surgery and subsequent training with Master Cole taught him the patience he needed to put his abilities to use.

But I think what his training arc taught him best outside of patience- the lesson that stuck with me the most- was that it is okay to ask for help. In fact, one of the quotes that still sticks with me is the quote from Master Cole: “Sometimes, we can’t carry the weight of the world alone.” He spent two seasons up until this point trying to carry every burden on his own, but this was a turning point for him. He realized that he has a team for a reason, and that he doesn’t have to protect them, and that allowing them to help him will make everyone stronger.

In my opinion, Dakota had the most personal growth out of the Prime Defenders from S1E1 to S2E40. He lost a lot of the innocence and pure optimism he had before, but the wisdom and patience he gained from it turned his passion for saving people and his genuine desire to do good into a more productive and successful energy that could save more lives than before. Sure, he had his silly moments- the consistent Fortnite jokes during his training arc, the goofiness of creating The Purps, etc. But his humor served to deepen his character, and the balance of genuine care and compassion for others with the humor and the struggles he faced (and still faces) just make him such a deep character.

He’s a silly goofy guy and he is one of the best written characters in modern hero stories.

#machtalks #jrwi #jrwi prime defenders #jrwi thoughts #dakota cole #jrwi dakota #jrwi dakota cole #grizzlyplays #dakota cole you will always be famous #this show never fails to make me cry #machtalksjrwi

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monkebearness · 18 days ago

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Our Story, Like a Romance Novel [Chapter 0]

Chapter 1

Tags: fluff, angst

Word count: 11.5k

a/n: this has been stuck in my drafts for way too long, so I decided to start posting them, while I keep on wrinkling my brain for more ideas and writing new stuff. this will have multiple characters, but the main ones will be revealed by the end. there is no smut on this chapter. it has more plot, but if you're still interested, I hope you like & enjoy it!

A young man stands in front of his open locker, buttoning up his vest before loosening his neck tie while looking at the casual attire that he’s worn earlier today. Scanning the room, he realizes that he’s the only one left in there. He tightens his tie once again–but not too tight. He inhales his hesitation, takes a deep breath, and gulps down his doubts.

Let’s do well today, he thinks to himself, perhaps the eighth time he’s told himself those same words. He closes the locker shut and walks to the door leading to another room in silence, joining the rest of the kitchen crew with a determined mindset. He faces two of his superiors–the head chef and station chef–and greets each of them with a deep bow.

“The team and I have already gotten you through the basics,” says the head chef, Geum Junghoon, to the newbie. “We’re guessing that you are now ready to work with the rest of the crew?

Yook Daewon takes one quick but careful look around the kitchen, keeping his smile and honorable ardor towards all his new employers and fellow colleagues, chefs, and servers, gathered in the same room for an event they have been preparing for the past few weeks. Despite the head chef’s lower baritone voice, Daewon only feels encouragement from his polite presence and approachable demeanor.

Mirroring the positive briefing of his employer, Daewon adjusts his tenor voice to sound more robust and confident with his light tone. “Ne, Chef! I am ready. Thank you so much for accepting me for this job. I will not disappoint you.”

“Are you sure you’re ready, Daewon-ssi?” The station chef, Jeong Hyerin, teases Daewon with her question while squinting her almond eyes to intimidate him. “This is a big night for the company. We can't risk making any messes… Especially not around our guests.”

“Yah! Go easy on him,” Junghoon immediately whispers to Hyerin, but she holds in her laughter. “It’s his first night. He proved himself last time, if that’s not enough for you.”

“Are you Daewon-ssi, Chef Geum?” Hyerin shoots a sarcastic remark back at her own superior, imitating a drill sergeant even with her light and comical tone. He raises his eyebrow at her, even if he knows that she’s messing around.

“It’s okay, Chef,” Daewon tries to simmer down the two from bickering, not realizing that she’s goofing around with him to lighten up the mood of the room. “And I’m ready, Chef Jeong Hyerin-nim. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t pass the interview, so I will do my best!”

“Well…” Hyerin smirks at Junghoon before raising her thumbs in approval. “I believe he just passed my final test.”

“How was that your final—Whatever…” Junghoon can only chuckle before looking at the corner of the kitchen in hopes of calling for the third superior’s opinion. “Chef Gong Yubin-nim! How about you? What’s your evaluation?”

“Chef, anyone’s good enough for me, as long as they’re doing their job right,” Yubin only answers him at the same tempo she’s dicing a bundle of onions on her board. She stops to look at Daewon. “So I don’t need any words from you, new guy. Just do well on your job and don’t mess up… Hyerin-ssi, come here and help the rest of us out, will ya?”

Junghoon and Hyerin couldn’t help but nod and filler words in agreement to Yubin.

Daewon quickly raises his arm to the sous chef. “Oh, I can assist—”

“No, it’s fine!” Hyerin politely stops him. “I’ll do it. There will be plenty of tasks for you to do later on. Welcome to the Kitchen, everyone. Best of luck out there!”

“Kamsahamnida, everyone!” Daewon bows to everyone at the kitchen, including the station cooks, and his fellow waiters and waitresses, as most of them reciprocate his polite and respectful gesture. “I will do my best on the job!”

All waiters and waitresses then at Hyerin and Junghoon, just as the former rushes to Yubin at the other side of the kitchen as they both chop tons more veggies with the rest of the crew, the station and junior chefs, and the porters.

Daewon sees the chefs argue while washing the goods, much to his perplexion. How can these cooks quarrel and still work together so well at the same time? If he wants to keep working there with them long enough, then maybe he can find out, but that shouldn’t be his business.

“They’re often like that, don’t mind them,” Junghoon nonchalantly assures him. “If you need help or question about anything, do not hesitate to ask any of our cooks, as well as your fellow servers, arachi? We have each other’s backs here.”

The City That Never Sleeps is a name that can pretty much refer to any well-known city across the world. New York was probably the first. There are others like Tokyo, Madrid, Manila, Sydney, and Chicago. But here in Korea, they also have a few of their sleepless cities. For one, Seoul is a city that doesn’t think of sleeping, as do most businesses and parties taking place here. And for tonight, it is both here in Daewon’s new workplace.

The clock strikes at 6:00 in the evening, alerting all of the crew in the Kitchen to line up.

“Well, then,” Junghoon tells his entire crew. “We believe all of us are finally suited to start. Welcome to the Kitchen, everyone. Welcome to ModHaus.”

It’ll be a long night. One they can’t sleep on, especially if they don’t do an optimal job.

Daewon was just accepted at the company last week. At the age of twenty-six, he’s had enough work experience to make a living, but rarely any promotions to keep past jobs. Tonight at 6:50, the Kitchen has a lot on their plate to fill in, literally, thanks to its big event concerning the future of their head corporation in the next five years or more.

Daewon’s job isn’t restricted to anything, as he went from job to job in the past. Joining this company was a surprise for him too, as everyone else whom he’s now working with, but he’s here now. And he doesn’t wanna fail his employers or disappoint his colleagues. Whenever he’s waiting at the lobby with his two feet, he looks around the grand scenery of elites and financial giants in front of him. He can never imagine himself being one of them, talking to each other about shares and projects, complimenting or backstabbing someone based on their looks or laughing about their trivialities, at least as rich folks.

Taking place at the Grand Hotel’s Central Ballroom, the guest list of this event includes businesspeople, philanthropists, and celebrities across Asia and a few collaborators who flew all the way from America and Europe. Without a doubt, it is a luxurious event for its guests, but intimidating for the staff that prepared it.

A woman in a blue dress takes a glass of mocktail from a server. “Thank you.” After a sip, she faces the guest beside her, a man in a black and purple suit. “I hope you’re not having doubts about our collaboration tonight, Mister Kim.”

“Not at all, Miss Yoon,” Kim Chungho says to her with a suave and nonchalant temper. “ModHaus has been one of the top rising companies in Korea in the past four years! How can we miss such a wonderful opportunity to work with you? It’s an honor for us and our company to be invited here tonight.”

“So is ours, Mister Kim!” exclaims Yoon Seoyeon. “What you and your company have been doing with fast and high quality livestock production is something that our country needs more than ever. We’re more than grateful that you delivered our Kitchen with your best supply for tonight.”

“That’s our pleasure!” Chungho receives her compliment well. “But speaking of products, When will dinner be ready? I’ve heard nothing but praise about the cuisine made by your ‘Kitchen’ and honestly, I’ve been anticipating how you’ll be cooking our products… I even skipped lunch today!”

Seoyeon chuckles in disbelief. “Really now? Well, I don’t advice you or anyone to go through a diet like that, but I assure you that your wait will be worth—”

The double doors from the kitchen opened up and eleven servers came out to the seven tables in the lobby, with one of them being Daewon. On their trays appeared waves of uniform yet diverse plates of culinary marvels. From East to West, the first batch of cuisine arrives thanks to the ModHaus waiting staff, starting with the appetizers.

The heads, their secretaries, and their colleagues couldn’t help but take their eyes on the cuisines coming their way. Some mouths water and throats gulp at the sight and scent of food, both familiar and unfamiliar, yet all are appetizing to the senses of each guest who was waiting for their treats. Who wouldn’t be up for a free gala meal?

“Well, how about that?” Seoyeon remarks and her enthusiasm prompts her to request a microphone from a staff member to call all guests. “Attention everyone. Our main meals are ready to serve! To our company partners, all I can say is that I can’t wait to hear what plans and proposals you have for our new collaboration.”

Almost each and every guest slowly sat on their tables, if they weren’t already there to begin with. The servers welcome them with their plates and bowls with a smile before placing each plate of appetizers.

“Enjoy your meal,” Daewon says to a guest with a smile after placing their platter.

It turned out to be quite the formal event. Hosted by ModHaus’ CEO, Yoon Seoyeon, the Seventh HAUS Event begins today, January 4, 2031. This year, its guests consist of about eight heads, dozens of representatives and celebrities from companies, agencies, and affiliate groups across Asia who were invited for this gala at the Grand Seoul Hotel.

As Seoyeon had spoken to him earlier, Mister Park Chungho from Jeju State represents his Produce Domain and has been partners with ModHaus for over eight years as one of its producers of different fresh livestock and ingredients. Now a main supplier for this event, approximately 50% of the ingredients used in the kitchen were delivered by them.

“This is quite the event, Ms. Yoon. You should be proud of this achievement,” a tall and slender woman in a dark red dress tells Seoyeon from her seat, located on the opposite side of the long dinner table. Her elegant presence garners everyone’s attention inside the room, man or woman. “And that dress… You look smashing today!”

“Oh, it’s such an honor to hear that from you. The Fashion Queen herself!” Seoyeon laughs as she can’t help but feel flattered. “But I don’t think tonight would’ve been this festive and glamorous without the designs and decorations you provided us, Miss Zhou. They simply take after you.”

“Of course, they do!” With a giggle, the guest in red dress takes in Seoyeon’s compliment to heart. “They're my precious babies, and what better nursery will help them grow and fit in with local customers than ModHaus.”

Miss Felicia Zhou hails from China, representing the Qian Fashion Imperium, though she had spent a few years in Korea during her youth. Her family company was known for cooling down any tension between her nation and their more belligerent neighbors alongside their allies due to the supreme quality yet affordable and accessible clothing they design, produce, and sell to customers worldwide. A well-known celebrity herself, Felicia is known for her past as a talented, award-winning actress and model, until she stepped down to join her family’s business from the moment it first expanded globally.

“That’s some analogy,” another guest comments from Seoyeon’s side of the table while the two continue to have a laugh with their seatmates. But due to her shining bracelet, Felicia cannot help but surprise her attention with a compliment.

“Princess Bunraksa! Oh, that’s a beautiful bracelet you have,” Felicia exclaims with glee, reaching her hands to her wrist. “I don’t I’ve ever seen that from your latest collections.”

“Thank you, Miss Zhou,” the princess chuckles at her excitement. “It’s not there… Yet. But I have to thank Seoyeon-unnie because with our new partnership, our stores can finally unveil the latest releases for this year. And please, just call me by my Korean name, Sullin.”

“Princess… I mean, Sullin-ssi…” Felicia reaches to her hand with a warm smile. “You’ve made the right choice working with ModHaus and Seoyeon-ssi… I can’t wait for your new collection, and I assure you that word will spread out in a flash.”

Hailing from Thailand, Princess Pirada Bunraksa and her family owns one of the largest production of gems, other precious stones, and jewelries—which has been supplying and financing five high-class jewelry stores across Korea since February 2027. When the Thai Princess first joined her family business, she was already in Korea, having accomplished her term as an exchange student. She volunteered to handle the necessary transactions and make the partnerships to establish their first Korean branch in Incheon before expanding to Seoul’s Jongno Jewelry District due to popular demand.

Miss Natsumi Yamada from Japan represents her family and close associates, whose corporation pioneers in tech and robotics manufacturing. They first became partners with ModHaus in its second year as an entry-level company, before Seoyeon’s term.

Mister John Gonzales is one simple and hardworking entrepreneur from the Philippines who runs a company that started to export various native products in the past two years.

Lady Kim Yerim is a renowned Korean-British businesswoman who runs Velvet Sweets, a cafe and bakery franchise that recently took most of the world by storm due to its vast assortment of innovative, delectable, and irresistible pastries and caffeinated drinks that first caught the palates of MZ and Alpha customers since their first opening.

As ModHaus also emphasizes on the welfare of its workers’ well-being, they’ve become close associates with Doctor Lucas Tan from Singapore, who has been the head of one of the leading world healthcare and newer pharmaceutical companies since 2027.

Finally ending in the industry of comfort, Mister Nguyen Lahn from Vietnam runs and represents his family line's greatest exports: furniture and textiles, and they have been providing fashion companies like Qian with high class materials, while maintaining an eco-friendly means of production, something that ModHaus also strongly advocates.

All these eight heads of companies across the globe have chosen to collaborate with one of the largest and most influential companies in Korea and Asia for some of their latest line of products and upcoming programs. Daewon took turns with his six fellow servers between serving food and waiting for the chefs’ signal. While he could not understand every single detail of the long talk between CEOs and representatives, as if he is even allowed to listen to them and their matters to begin with.

“I’m thankful to all of you for attending this gathering,” says Seoyeon. “To some, if not most of the public, this may seem like any other ordinary gala where we just spend our money on drinks and amusements and there’s no doubt about that. But I would like to take this night more as a way for us to unite and harmonize our ideals and principles because we want to spend our resources on causes that are bigger than ourselves.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Ms. Yoon,” Chungho raises his glass to her and stands up from his seat in approval. “Since the beginning, I have never regretted my partnership with the company. I’m glad that things are going smoothly under your direction.”

Felicia stands up with her raised glass as well, agreeing with his sentiments about her friend and associate. “It’s our pleasure, Seoyeon-ssi. We know to trust you well in our projects, so all of us should thank you as well for believing in them.”

“To ModHaus,” Sullin joins the two in their joint speech. “The home of possibilities.”

Everyone else at the table follows the three vocal heads as a united toast, raising their glass with nods, smiles, and bows as they look up to the head of their new partnership.

Seoyeon raises her full glass with a smile, touched by the words of her partners and associates, old and new alike. She takes a breath and tells them, “To ModHaus.”

Moments later, they sit down and go on to take delight in their meals while they converse with their seatmates about much less serious talks and possible future partnerships—just as the clock strikes eight-thirty in the evening. The cue for the kitchen servers enter with their trays of various main course meals and pitchers of drinks.

“By the looks of it, tonight looks pretty much like an upgrade from last year,” Natsumi notices. Observing the room must have reminded her of the past company gala, which her seatmates have also been guests in. “I can’t believe how different and similar the ballroom looks now, if that even makes sense.”

Lahn shakes his head. “I’m pretty you said the same thing last year, Miss Yamada.”

“I can’t say I disagree with him, though,” Sullin bluntly voices her agreement. “But the way you said it gave off the wrong impression.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” she retorts, playing her comment as nothing short of an insult to the event. “Come on, you two. Did y’all miss the word upgrade from me?”

“Seoyeon-ssi, I couldn’t be more thankful that you chose to sponsor Velvet Sweets,” says Kim Yeri. “Especially since I was still a newbie entrepreneur from overseas, it was really hard to find a company that we could trust here in Korea. Then you gave us a chance.”

“That’s nothing compared to how much you’ve helped us back then, unnie,” Seoyeon reciprocates her gratitude. “All of you have made ModHaus’ success possible.”

She puts her hand on her right shoulder. “I know this must be a lot of pressure, with all these responsibilities for you to carry, but I believe that Mister Han would be proud of you… With how far you’ve come. This company couldn’t have asked for a better CEO.”

= = =

Back in the kitchen, Daewon stands alone after his heavy lifting from earlier.

“Hey, new guy!” a soup chef, or potager, calls him from his station. “Daewon-nim, right?”

“Yes, I am, Seongsu-nim,” he politely answers. “Do you need any assistance, Chef?”

Just from his fingers, Seongsu looks fidgety. His tummy has been slowly boiling in the past hour, much like the soup he’s been cooking. It won’t be a pleasing sight for anyone. Thankfully, only Daewon seems to notice the potager’s weird and questionable behavior.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I do! I need it now!” Even from his voice, shaking can be felt, as his head must have been pouring sweat for some time. As if he’s holding in something for a while now. “You mind if you’d look over the soup for a bit? I just, I gotta go out for a bit…”

“Oh, okay…” Out of respect, the server has no other words but compliance. “Yes, Sir.”

“Oh, thank God!” Seongsu immediately takes off his apron and hands it onto the server. “This can’t wait. I gotta go—”

Daewon doesn’t bother asking him as the cook rushes through the kitchen’s back door. He is left in front of the boiling pot with no instructions. Time is running as is his fellow servers rushing in and out of the kitchen to serve any additional request from the guests in the lobby. With a familiar broth, the soup looks like it's almost complete. As he stares at the pot, Daewon gulps and puts on his colleague’s apron, staring at the cooking broth.

“Hey, Daewon-ssi,” a fellow server approaches his station. Thanks to the name tag on his shirt’s pocket, Daewon recognizes the person as Kim Chulwoo—another newbie like him. “Are the head’s special soup ready?”

Oddly enough, Chulwoo doesn’t even question why he’s there. “Ummm… I don't think—”

“Will ten minutes be enough?” he interjects a negotiation.

Dispirited by the pressure of the situation, Daewon can only mutter, “Well…”

“Okay!” he immediately answers, signing “okay” with his finger. “I’ll be back by then.”

Daewon begins his new work. Even if it’s not meant to be his station to begin with.

= = =

In the Central Ballroom, most guests have empty plates and bowls, occupied by their conversations about the countless cuisines they’ve just engorged in for the past hour.

“Oh my God. I can’t believe how good the food was,” Yamada shares with the rest of the guests with delight. “Compliments to the chef!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Lahn adds. “They managed to nail the spring rolls. I don’t know if it’s the MSG or something but it’s just like gỏi cuốn back home! My family would love to have your recipe.”

“Our Kitchen has a minimum MSG policy,” Seoyeon bluntly declares. “So our recipe should definitely be more authentic than a lot of Vietnamese restaurants in Seoul.”

“Really?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” the CEO admits, yet she still embodies her confidence. “But whatever ingredients we use, our Kitchen never disappoints in making them authentic as they are, especially tonight. But since our main courses are almost finished—they may be less busy now, would you like to meet our chefs and ask them your questions?”

“Considering that our contracts have been settled, it would be our honor to meet them, Seoyeon-nim!” Chungho answers for the rest of the head guests, who nodded with him.

After a few minutes of relaying the message through text, two figures enter the Central Ballroom doors, akin to a dramatic entrance. Having taken off their aprons, Junghoon and Yubin confidently walk toward the table of the heads in their blue coats.

“Everyone, this is our head chef, Geum Junghoon, and our sous chef, Gong Yubin. For the past two years, they have been the two of our greatest cooks here in ModHaus”

“It’s such an honor to meet you two,” Chungho humbly shakes both of their hands.

“The way you placed the sushi and sashimi platter,” praises Natsumi. “It’s exquisite! You even decorated them so beautifully. I couldn’t decide on whether I should’ve kept staring at them or I should have eaten them all by myself.”

“It feels like I just traveled across several countries on this table,” Sullin imaginatively describes her experience to them. “Knowing how our fellow guests are also speaking highly of their native foods, I can’t help but commend your five-star cooking.”

“Oh, that means so much from you, Princess,” Yubin slightly bows out with her palms touching together in gratitude, like a prayer, which Junghoon follows at the same time. With her nod, Sullin chuckles and returns her wai as a form of appreciation to the chefs. “And we thank all of you for your wonderful words about our dishes.”

“But you look kind of familiar,” Lahn looks at the two with his squinting eyes. “Hmm… Actually both of you do.”

“We both partook in last year’s event,” Junghoon tries to help the guest remember. “If that’s ringing you any bells.”

“Yeah, that’s not it,” he shakes his head. “I don't remember meeting any good-looking chefs last year.”

“I don’t think your fiance will be happy to hear that if he was here, Mister Nguyen,” Seoyeon teases him.

“Or our kitchen managers,” Junghoon quips, making the other guests laugh.

“Are you saying neither of them are good-looking, Seoyeon-ssi?” Lahn defends himself. “I’m just saying that these two fine young chefs have a lot of potential to do more stuff outside the kitchens, you know? Have you ever considered getting them publicists or agents? They should get out there more often.”

“I second that!” adds Sullin. “That would help your own brand grow if you promote your Kitchen. Maybe Miss Zhou can even recommend some tips to you! Don’t you agree?”

Felicia seemed like she was staring at both chefs for a while. Either she’s mesmerized or perplexed at the sight of the two. Or both. “Of course, it would be my pleasure.”

Yubin adds insight to their suggestions. “Funny you should mention that…”

From outside the room, Daewon peeks through the door’s windows with his fingers crossed that nothing goes wrong. The table where his superiors are standing seems exuberant and joyous with their talks with the two star chefs.

“As much as I hate to interrupt,” an elderly guest taps the head chef beside him. “I would like to ask, where’s the special soup? I believe it has not yet been brought to my table.”

“Soup?” Junghoon wonders. “Are you perhaps referring to the clam chowder we served earlier? We still have a few more in the kitchen, but we can cook you up some more.”

“No,” the elder’s voice starts to sound more demanding. “ I didn’t like that thick soup. I asked the servers if the chefs could cook a soup that is more runny after our meal. That always helps with my digestion and I really need it...”

“Digestion?” Doctor Tan questions the older guest. “Perhaps you have medication?”

“Yes, I do,” he responds. “But it has been our tradition to have soup at the end of every meal. I assume you don’t have any problems with that.”

“I very much respect traditions, Mister Park,” the doctor elaborates his opinion. “But we advise patients to take their meds at least thirty minutes to an hour after they have a full stomach.”

“Doctor Tan has a point,” Seoyeon agrees. “Perhaps the soup can wait, Direct—”

“No, it can’t,” the old guest maintains his stubbornness, slowly raising his voice to the respectful doctor. “I’m not your patient. I can’t and won’t drink my medicine until I’ve had my soup. Now, where is it?”

“It’s okay, Doctor Tan,” Junghoon deescalates the “conversation” between the guests. “Mister Park, I’ll have the station cook in the kitchen follow it up right now.”

“I’ll handle it, Chef,” Yubin interjects, bowing to the guests before taking a walk towards the door, enclosing her right fist in a manner as if she's squeezing an invisible stress ball.

But just as when they need it the most, two servers arrive at the room. They surprise the guests with their presence while pushing a server trolley containing bowls and a pitcher of what seems to contain the anticipated after-meal soup of the night. “We apologize to everyone! Apologies, Mister Park, but we have your miso soup right here.”

“Finally!” exclaims the elder guest at the sight. “I can’t believe it’s taken you this long.”

“What were you doing?” Yubin whispers to the servers. “How long did they cook this?”

“The chef had an emergency,” the female server answers her with a hint of nervousness. “A server took over his shift and we didn’t know—”

“What?” Yubin’s eyes widen at the news, yet they maintain their sharpness. “Who?”

The server gulps at her superior. But just as she can answer the chef and while Junghoon helps with serving the rest of guests with their own bowls, they witness the reaction from the very guest who takes the first sip of soup. The one who requested it.

“What is this?” The elder is taken aback by the taste of the miso soup, shocking the chefs and confusing the rest of the guests. “Can I get the chef who cooked this soup? This is…”

“Is there any problem?” Junghoon asks the question his crew is too nervous to ask. They can only keep their fingers crossed—as the dead air only leaves them paralyzed in fright.

= = =

Minutes later, both chefs now returned to the kitchen. Yubin picks up the knife on the counter in front of her and throws its razor sharp blade straight into the cutting board. Her subordinates freeze and shudder at her wrath—which she fires straight at Daewon.

“You had one job, new guy! Just the one. It wasn’t hard, but you just had to be late when a major shareholder and former board member had requested his order for an hour!”

Despite knowing how he got there, Daewon blames himself, enduring the sous chef’s tiger-like roar at him while he looks down while her eyes are melting through his soul. Even if he tells the whole truth to her, it’s too late. He’s already taking in bullets to his heart and mind.

“Joesonghamnida! It won’t happen again,” Daewon repeatedly bows to the sous chef.

“Yubin-ah, this is his first day on the job,” Hyerin reprimands her. “Cut him some slack!”

“Consider himself lucky Mister Park didn’t snap like he used to,” Yubin hisses.

“That’s enough, Yubin-nim!” Junghoon silences the room with his raised voice while he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not Mister Park, nor any of the guests have complained. Yes, I know it wasn’t one-to-one with our standard recipe, they liked the soup with how it turned out. They said it was familiar... Authentic even. He was just surprised.”

“Joesonghamnida, Chef,” Daewon lowers his bow to them. “I thought I could handle the situation myself, but I didn’t tell any of you.”

Hyerin turns her head to the root of the issue, standing at the corner of the kitchen. “C’mon now, Seongsu-ssi. Why the hell did you leave him to cook your dish?

“Joesonghamnida, Yubin-nim. Joesonghamnida, Chef,” Seongsu bows at them quickly, mirroring Daewon’s actions. “I had a rough lunch earlier and it just suddenly happened. I didn’t know who else I could hand over—”

“Save it,” Yubin sighs, simmering down from her misplaced outburst. “It’s over. I’m not having any of this. The event’s over… I’ll meet all of you on Monday.”

Heading to the locker room, a quiet Yubin is the first chef to leave the kitchen to pack up.

“Make sure you drink your medicine, Seongsu-ssi,” Junghoon reminds his subordinate with a few taps on his shoulder. “But next time, tell some of the chefs to look over your station, not a server. Arasseo?”

“Ne. I will, Chef.” Seongsu bows. “Thank you for understanding, Sir. Joesonghamnida.”

“Daewon-ssi, we should talk for a moment,” Junghoon calls him just as he calls out to his left-hand woman, considering that his right-hand is no longer there. “Hyerin-ssi…”

Together with Hyerin, she and Junghoon had a word with the young server. A dispirited Daewon follows them, unable to think of any other way of how this night ends for him.

= = =

After about ten minutes, Junghoon exits the kitchen when hears an “excuse me” from the hallway. He turns around to see a familiar face slowly approach him. It's one of the eight heads who sat on the same table with Seoyeon. Fashion Imperium’s associate director— Felicia Zhou. He notices that she’s fixed herself, despite her enticing red dress standing out from earlier. Her hair is now tied and she’s holding a jacket around her left arm.

“I want to apologize for how Mister Kim reacted earlier,” she mutters. “I was aware of his behavior last year, and your crew must’ve been distressed if the same thing happened again. I hope that no one’s getting fired or anything for that matter.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Miss Zhou,” he eases her worry. “You didn’t do anything disrespectful, and my employees are doing much better now, especially compared to last year. From experience, Mister Kim still must’ve been constipated tonight that he was still craving that small bowl of miso soup.”

“That’s fair, because that miso soup was a great addition too,” she laughs at his remark. “You and your crew did a great job with the food.”

“I'm honored that an international celebrity enjoyed what we've cooked for all of you. It’s not rare for us to serve well-known guests, but it seems to be the first time everyone’s full from finishing their meals.”

“I might as well start dining in your restaurant if you keep that up,” she quips.

Both of them chuckle. Their eyes remain leveling at each other and to an extent, their souls. However, it feels as if there’s an invisible barrier that she’s trying to get through while she stares at him. She can't read anything from the man’s polite face. But she's a determined woman, so she holds in her hesitations…

“Geum Junghoon-ssi…” she says his name softly.

“Yes, Miss Zhou?” He seems unfazed when she calls him by his full name, something that only discourages her subtle intention. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Not really,” she doesn’t know what else to say, having lost hope about her assumption. “But I just gotta ask. Do you, umm… Remember me?”

It’s not just curiosity that fuels her to ask more questions to this man. This supposed “stranger.” For her, it’s more of a necessity that she hears him. Something is clinging inside her—clenching into her heart—one that won’t let go. Not until he answers her.

“Perhaps?” The chef still doesn’t know what she means. “Since Mister Nguyen also asked us a similar question earlier, have you attended last year’s gala, by any chance?”

“No, umm, but our previous president did. It’s my first time being invited to this event as an associate director of the company.”

“Well... I believe you may have mistaken me for someone else, since I was not the head chef at the time, but thank you so much for your compliment. My staff and I have been preparing the recipes for a week or two, so those words do mean a lot from someone in your position and reputation.”

Their uneasy atmosphere is drowned by the cacophony of noises from the kitchen. Junghoon hears the clattering plates and pans to rattling utensils being sorted out.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to head back to the kitchen and clean up.”

She lost her chance. “O–of course,” she stammers. “It was nice meeting you… Chef.”

Junghoon runs out of the lobby after a respectful bow in front of her. Downcast and confused, Felicia can only bow to him in response. She looks at him from afar. Their distance drifts with every second until he returns to the Kitchen… Not another word. Just a puddle of sorrow rising up and flooding into her heart.

= = =

Outside the hotel lobby, Daewon is back to his casual attire, a checkered polo shirt.

The driver rolls up their window. “Daewon-ssi,” Hyerin calls him. “Do you want a ride?

“Oh, no, no, no!” With his hands, he politely waves away her request. “You don’t have to, Hyerin-nim. I don’t live that far from here.”

“Oh really?” She wonders how far, but she intends to establish boundaries with him. “Well, okay... Stay safe. (waves) Na meonjeo galge!”

Hyerin drives off into the road. Daewon receives a text on his phone, prompting him to pull it out of his pocket. The bright screen lightens up his face with a soft smile. After a fifteen-minute walk to his neighborhood of Chuseon, Daewon meets up with his close friends in front of a nearby convenience store.

At a table, Ji Suhyeon and Lee Kyubok welcome him with celebratory midnight drinks. Suhyeon opens her first can of beer and drinks down her first sip for the night. Kyubok watches his friend with a laugh, before taking a sip himself.

“Yah! That must’ve been so hard for you, Daewon-ah. I wish I had told Kotone when it happened, but darn it! I had to extend my shift for the entire morning and afternoon, I couldn’t even use my phone to call her.”

“I’m fine, Suhyeon-noona,” Daewon calms her down. “It was sudden when it happened… And besides, Kotone-noona was busy interacting with the guests, so we couldn’t talk to each other the whole night, anyway.”

“Still,” Suhyeon groans. “She was the one who recommended you to this job to begin with. The least she could’ve done was tell you a little more details about what you were in for.”

Kyubok pats him on the back. “It’ll be better, Daewon-ah! Almost everyone messes up on their first day or week or month. It’s no big deal.”

Daewon sighs. “Ahh… So much for the ‘home of all possibilities.’ I didn’t even know that getting scolded on your first shift was possible when you tried doing the right thing.”

“Kyubok-ah is right, though,” Suhyeon points out. “It’s only your first day there. I’m sure they’ll understand. At least most of your heads do. Who knows if you’ll get a promotion after finishing that chef’s soup under pressure!”

“I’m just an ant working for those giants,” Daewon scratches his head. “It feels weird working there just tonight. I’m not even sure if it’s worth staying there.”

“I get how you feel. But ModHaus is like, the least corrupt company in Seoul,” she assumes. “At least that we know of. I believe that your crew will take care of you the longer you’re there. Just take it from Kyubok-ah and Kotone-chan.”

“I hope so,” Daewon feels like Suhyeon had just taken away most of his worries from him. “How long have you been working there, Kyubok-hyung?”

“About half a year,” he answers. “But you get what I mean, right? They have some nice and approachable staff. I’m sure the rest of the Kitchen’s no different.”

“Daewon-ah, come on now,” Suhyeon pats him on the back. “You did well tonight, okay? Don’t let some old, snobby, senile shareholder let you down because he got impatient for some digestion soup!”

“But Daewon-ah made that soup for the most part,” Kyubok points out to her. “That’s why he almost got an earful from that shareholder, no thanks to the actual chef who was supposed to be making it.”

“Oh… And I’m sure it tastes good. Probably even better than what that chef would have made!” she confidently remarks. “But my point is, I bet that both ModHaus President Yoon Seoyeon and Head Chef Geum Junghoon did their job to defend you through hell and back.”

“Chef Junghoon and Chef Hyerin-nim did speak for me during that moment, I guess,” Daewon recalls the scene from earlier. “But I don’t know much about President-nim.”

“You should start calling him hyung eventually, don’t you think?” she suggests.

“Hmm, maja!” Kyubok nods. “He was the first to consider Kotone’s recommendation of you, so I don’t see why you can’t be more informal with him one day.”

“Most of the staff were nice and considerate anyway, so I don’t think that’s necessary,” he tells them with a humble tone just before his memory catches up to him, making his eyes light up. “Well, maybe except for that one chef. His second-in-command. The sous chef.”

“Wait, I thought that Chef Hyerin was the second-in-command?” Kyubok gets confused by his statement. “She’s not the sous chef?”

“I thought she was,” Daewon clarifies. “But she’s only a chef de partie, and she was close with the head chef, so I assumed that she’s the sous chef.”

Suhyeon is shocked as well. “Omo, omo, omo. You already have a workplace rival? On your first night on the job? Wahhh, daebak… That must be some record!”

“How the hell did Yook Daewon, the kindest fellow in town, have a coworker who hates him? Do you want us to retaliate against him?” Kyubok adds. “If you want, Tone-chan and I can set up a prank at the cafeteria the next time we see that rude-ass douche.”

“Whatever that is,” a fourth voice answers him, walking up to their table. “I don’t wanna get involved in any more pranks or goofs, okay?”

“And speak of the devil!” Suhyeon calls Kotone out as the latter sits on the vacant chair. “Another late shift, eh? Daewon told me you’ve socialized with a lot of guests tonight. How’d that go?”

“Is someone getting a promotion soon?” Kyubok hypes up, though Kotone isn’t amused. “I’m surprised you even made it to the gala while our team was stuck with paperwork.”

“I don’t even wanna talk about it! And it’s not like my job was any easier up there,” she retorts. “But since we’re talking about work… Daewon, I can talk to her instead. Maybe she can directly apologize to you in your next meeting with Junghoon.”

“I appreciate the intentions, noona,” Daewon chuckles. “But you don’t have to… She might’ve just had a bad memory from Mister Park or something. Besides, I don’t wanna get fired the moment I get back by bringing it up again.”

“Oooooh…” Kyubok is intrigued by the new detail. “So, the sous chef is a woman then.”

Suhyeon grunts at him. “Why did you just react like that?”

A jolt of fear strikes not just Kyubok, but even the other two. “Like what?”

“Like that makes it okay if a woman just assaulted an employee…”

“Noona, I wasn’t assaulted,” Daewon reassures her again. “She just gave me an earful.”

“To a new employee?” she snaps. “What are you guys in, Culinary Class Wars? Hell’s Kitchen? That's unwarranted behavior from a superior if I have ever heard one.”

“Yeah!” Kyubok chimes in the hate train. “That doesn’t make sense. Who does that woman think she is?” He drinks up his can.

“A three-time award-winning chef,” Kotone nonchalantly brings up to them.

Kyubok spills the beer from his mouth like a tight faucet. “What the fuck?”

But Suhyeon remains unimpressed. “So is Geum Junghoon! But has he ever treated his own kitchen staff like shit? I knew Gong Yubin in college, too, you know? That wasn’t like her then!”

“Noona, are you alright?” Daewon senses it. She’s channeling her resentment elsewhere.

Suhyeon sighs in her own defeat. “Yeah… I mean, I don’t know. To be honest... I guess I just wanted a little break from home for just a night. You rarely get that around while raising a little bumpkin on your own.”

“How is Dongwon?” Daewon asks out of concern. “Did you find a sitter for her tonight?”

“Seoah’s taking care of her,” Suhyeon reveals. “She’s practically his aunt at this point.”

“You sure she’s okay with babysitting him all day?” Kyubok wonders. “She’s a sophomore in college now, isn’t she? That kid would probably have a lot on her plate by next year.”

“That’s what I said!” Suhyeon echoes with her slightly raised voice. “But she’s the one who insisted. She said it’s her excuse to see her ‘nephew.’ Yet, then again, if you think about it, she’s doing a much better job taking care of my own child than I am.” She puts her palm on her face and groans. “God, I’m a horrible parent, am I?”

“Yah… Don’t be like that to yourself,” Kotone comes to her defense, holding Suhyeon’s wrist and slowly pulling them down away from her face to assure her. “You’re doing your best as a mother, Suhyeon-ah!”

“Yeah,” Kyubok chimes in. “Especially if you have a kid to look after, I think that having a little me time ain’t that bad. Heck—If being here with us still makes you feel bad, I’m also willing to babysit Dongwon too!”

“So am I, noona!” Daewon joins them with enthusiasm. “I’ll find time outside my shifts. Don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“T--thanks, yeo--reobun,” she stutters. “I don’t know what I can do without you guys.”

“You should know we’re always here for you, Ji Suhyeon,” Kotone leans in for a hug. “Like you’re here, with us.”

Suhyeon can't help but be touched by Kotone’s remarks and the reassuring promises of her friends, she’s holding a few tears from pouring down her eyes. Despite living as a strong and caring single mother for the past three years, she didn’t always feel like she’s alone because of their presence and support.

“Just don’t drink too much!” Kyubok takes her empty can just before she can take a sip. “You’ve had enough cans for the night.”

“Oppa!” she tries to reach for the empty can, but it’s already on Kyubok's side of the table. “That’s not fair! That was only my fourth can.”

“Let Daewon drink some of the beers, too. He’s had a rough first night,” he snaps back.

Getting another empty beer can beside her, Suhyeon’s close friends witness the cylindrical aluminum container slowly get folded and crunched up by her palm with ease while her eyes remain its, instinctively evoking a gulp from Kyubok and a nervous laughter from Daewon. Kotone shakes her head while letting out a chuckle.

“I’m okay, hyung,” Daewon politely declines the offer, holding his cold and condensed unopened can. “I don't feel like drinking tonight. Here, Tone-noona, you can take mine.”

“Thanks, Daewon-ie,” Kotone takes the beer can from him. “Kyubok-oppa’s right on this one. I don't know if you’d like to have a hangover and beer breath in the morning while looking after Dongwon, but I don’t think this habit will set a good example for him.”

“Yeah,” Suhyeon sighs. Listening to Kotone's observation, she quickly cups her own hands and breathes into them to warm and sober up.

“You guys are right. What am I thinking? I should clean up in a bit. You guys better get home soon!”

“Ne, eomma!” Tone playfully answers her, igniting laughter from Daewon and Kyubok.

= = =

The following week has come since Saturday’s gala event. As early as eight to nine in the morning, employees run the office with their gossip, murmurs, and speculations about how the night had turned out. Considering how not everyone got the chance to attend such a grand event, most of the workers can only let their own imaginations run wild. Perhaps exaggerate an incident or interaction. Even if a certain rumor doesn’t have a grain of truth and fact that it ever happened, its “entertainment factor” is enough for them to talk about something and keep themselves motivated for the rest of the day.

“I heard there’s some spicy biz that night!” Miyu rushes to her deskmates in the coffee station. “Did any of y’all hear from the advertising team? Some of ‘em were really wild.”

“I did hear that some guests did it,” Suhyeon adds. “But there were some other things they managed to keep under wraps. You got any guesses on what it could’ve been?”

“Well, I don’t know if this is a big tea,” Chaeyeon whispers to them. “But Joonie-sunbae said that some server from the kitchen almost pissed off one of the board members—”

“Come on, Chaeyeon-ssi, you guys actually believe the advertising department?” Kotone interjects the talk between her colleagues, skeptical at whatever they were discussing. “I mean… If there was any tea that would’ve been spilled at the gala… I would’ve known.”

“Tone-yah!” Chaeyeon and the rest of her buddies get surprised. “Are you sure nothing scandalous happened at the event? You lucky dog… What are you not telling us?”

“At this point, I couldn’t care less whether their rumors are true or not, Tone-ssi,” Suhyeon whines. “Dang! I just wanna hear something extraordinary that might have happened last Saturday. A good office drama will keep us going for the rest of the year.”

“Believe whatever you want girls,” she warns them with a chuckle. “But save some of your tea for later. It’s time for lunch.”

“Tone-ssi… You’re really not telling us anything?” Miyu sounds like she’s pleading.

“Fine! I’ll tell you after lunch.” Kotone gives in to their desperation. “I don’t know too much gossip, but I know some projects that’ll definitely get you excited for the year.”

“Deal!” Suhyeon shakes her hand out of the blue.

Considering that not everyone at the company eats there during every lunch, dining at the ModHaus Cafeteria was not as grand or fancy as its events, but it is just as, if not more hospitable and relaxing to eat there, thanks to their Kitchen’s service and passion to cook up and serve excellent food. Open from Monday to Friday (sometimes Saturday), most of the residents and workers take their time dining while talking about how crappy or superb their day is so far. On some days, friends don’t even have time to eat together.

In the ModHaus Cafeteria, only twelve members of the staff are working at lunchtime.

“I hope it’s not a hassle for you to be working at this hour, Daewon-ssi,” Hyerin tells him. “I know this may be a sudden change in your schedule.”

“It’s okay, Chef,” the newcomer lightens up. “You and Head Chef Geum are the ones who gave me this offer. And it’s one that I can’t say no to.”

“You probably could have if you didn’t want it…” she points out.

“That’s true, Chef,” he nods. “Anyone else could’ve taken the promotion.”

“No. You deserve that promotion as much as anyone else, okay? You’ve proven that you can work under pressure” she defends him from his own misgivings. “Now, do you want us to regret making you an apprentice? Or do you want to prove yourself by learning?”

“I wanna learn, Chef!” He bows to her with enthusiasm, confirming his new position.

It is Tuesday afternoon when the Kitchen’s Head Chef Junghoon takes off his toque and the rest of his uniform, taking a break after cooking during the morning shift, leaving his most trusted crew to run it throughout the afternoon shift. Unfortunately, his usual hour of peace and relaxation becomes a state of confusion and discomfort the moment he sees the last face he expects to meet in this building.

The same woman who approached him outside the Grand Hotel’s kitchen. He can see her talking to her assistant. “I can take it from here, Yoojin. Use this company card to treat the rest of the teammates. Just like yesterday, arachi? Have fun!”

The latter bows to her and walks away from the cafeteria, while the woman follows him as she waves at him, like any other coworker who hasn’t seen their colleague in a while.

“Good afternoon, Miss Zhou,” he bows to her while holding his meal-filled tray. He tries to go on with his usual routine—but he feels the persistence of the woman from his past. Wearing glasses while in a business suit, she looks more or less distinguishable from her more revealing and standout attire since their last encounter, although she still manages to stand out on this one.

“I didn’t expect to meet you here, Chef Geum,” she follows him after falling in line and receiving her own tray of meals from the cafeteria line, only a minute after the chef got his. One of the perks of being beautiful, one would guess. Despite their distant meeting last week, her casualness is restored, showing her willingness to catch up with the man. “I really thought you’d be running a restaurant of your own, but now that I think about it, it makes more sense that you are the head of this cafeteria.”

He maintains his silence, while she keeps walking behind him. “Are you not with your team and colleagues, Miss Zhou? I just saw one of yours walk away just now.”

“I wanted to be more acquainted with this place myself,” she answers. “My team wanted to treat me to lunch, but I gave them my card instead so they could eat somewhere fancy outside... It's the least I can do on their first day joining my team.”

“Why didn't you go with them?” “Surely, a woman of your position would be more comfortable dining at a luxurious restaurant.”

“Is there anything more luxurious than The Kitchen who served us the most diverse and delicious cuisine at the gala?” she flatters, though the chef himself is not too amused. “If I’m gonna start working with ModHaus in person, I’d rather spend more time and get used here, my new home.”

“Well…” Junghoon reaches a vacant table. “Make yourself at home, Miss Zhou.”

She’s still in disbelief, yet deep inside, she feels that his behavior is nor unwarranted.

“Come on. Don’t you wanna talk about anything?” the woman becomes blunt with him, though she keeps her tone amiable. To his ears, however, her persistence is now starting to break through his clueless facade and his wall of politeness. “Do you really not wanna catch up, Mister Geum? It's been years since we’ve—”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Xinyu-ssi,” he finally snaps back, even with his low voice. Despite this sudden temper, he puts his tray on the table with no noise for others to hear.

Junghoon immediately realizes what he’s said to her. Xinyu’s eyes widened at the sound of her name. Not Felicia—but her native name. Aish… He thinks to himself with chagrin.

She freezes in shock and awe at his sudden response, even struggling to breath for a second until she mutters her next words. “So you do remember me… Junghoon-ah.”

In the man’s thoughts, he thinks revealing the truth to her would be enough to push her away and walk out of the cafeteria. Even though his heart is feeling the opposite, he just wanted his own sorrow to end. As selfish as his feelings may be, he does not know what else to do in dealing with this situation someone like him would not even imagine. Who knew she’d actually be back? She’s not the same person you knew.

“You were my sunbae in college,” he tells her bluntly. “How could I not remember you?”

“But that night,” she confronts him. “It was like you pretended that we were strangers.”

“We are strangers,” he keeps her pushing away. “Aren’t we, Zhou Xinyu-nim?”

Her heart keeps sinking, but she musters up to go on until she finds the remnants of the same man she used to know. “We used to know each other.”

“We did,” he maintains his coldness. “But I don't think that matters to you now, Felicia.”

She looks down as guilt clenches her heart. I’m guessing he remembers me… Everything about me. But deep inside, Xinyu wants to answer his hurtful remarks. However, just as she would’ve muttered another word, the harrowing silence between them was abruptly broken thanks to someone else’s interference. Another friend who somehow recognized her from back in the day. One who made her reminisce about the better days of the past, considering that the other didn’t when he saw her face once again.

“Zhou Xinyu-nim? Is that really you?” Out of nowhere, Kotone asks her with her mouth agape. Junghoon takes a seat on the corner of the table by himself, hoping to avoid any attention from what’s about to happen.

As she turns to see another familiar face, Xinyu’s reactions are beyond her control. “Omo… Kamimoto Kotone-chan?”

The two squeal as they unleash their joy and excitement. Junghoon cannot help but hide a snicker from the side of his seat. In this moment, he puts his strong emotions aside for the reunion that is unfolding before his eyes.

He's almost forgotten that he's not the only person who’s known Xinyu here from a personal level. Kotone looks at him, but he appears to be focused on taking sips of his soup. Surprisingly, her attire makes her look like anyone else. Everyone seems to be falling for her Clark Kent or Kara Danvers effect. For most workers, Xinyu is just a new employee who’s gonna bring nothing but annoyance, eye candy, or endless curiosities to them—at least in the meantime. Attention from everyone is the last thing she needs right now, so they join the head chef’s table to blend in the herds of corporate life.

“What are you doing here?” Continuing her conversation with the older woman, Kotone lowers her voice just as she takes a seat right beside Junghoon. “I thought you only went here for the gala event?”

Xinyu follows her move, taking the seat in front of Junghoon, as they continue talking. “I’m here to oversee the partnership between my company’s team and ModHaus.”

Kotone steals a glance at Junghoon, quietly taking a bite of a piece of tonkatsu and a spoonful of rice. My God, I can’t believe that things are still rough between these two. After six flipping years? She wonders, before looking at Xinyu once more with a bright smile as their conversation continues after joining the vacant seat on Junghoon’s table.

“Oooh…” Despite her position in ModHaus, Kotone’s formalities begin to drop around Xinyu, embodying the comfort and familiarity of their past as college friends. “How long will you be staying here then?

“Well, I don't know yet,” she humbly admits. “It depends on how our meetings will go... The heads preferred online meetings, but I proposed we also hold face-to-face meetings as well, so maybe I’ll stay here a little longer so I can check the progress of our project in person.” Xinyu takes a quick glance at Junghoon. He’s already halfway through his meal.

“I can’t believe the CEO of China’s top fashion brand is in our cafeteria!” Tone squeals.

“Please. I’m only the Associate Director of the Emporium,” she humbly corrects her. “That’s not even close to the Vice President... And come on, just call me unnie.”

Junghoon looks out to the rest of the cafeteria, noticing some employees trying to take out their phones and aiming their cameras. Thankfully, guards are there to moderate.

“Well… You never know, unnie,” Kotone embraces their renewed casualness. “This is a huge partnership between two of the greatest companies in Asia! If you keep it up, this may just get you promoted by the end of the year, don't you think?”

Xinyu chuckles. “That’s not really what’s on my mind, but we’ll see… For now, I’m just helping out ModHaus with designing their next installment of clothing among other projects… And get in touch with some of our college buddies if I have time, of course.”

“Sure, you’ll have time!” Kotone hypes up her plans, despite its uncertainties. “And if you’re ever interested in taking a ‘trip down memory lane’ at our university, that can certainly be arranged. I know a few folks working there.”

“That would be great! I haven’t been at SSU in a long while… Wah, I wonder how much has changed here.”

“Oh, you have no idea, unnie. Just you wait.” She looks at Junghoon beside her with a raised eyebrow. “Yah! How about you, Chef Junghoon? You think you have the time?”

Junghoon is only chewing his food until the woman repeatedly taps his shoulder. “Huh…” He swallows and turns to her. “What?”

“Do you wanna tag along with us?” Kotone recalls. “We’re doing a tour of our university.”

“What for?” He steals a glance at Xinyu. She’s looking down at her meal, taking a bite of her salad. She doesn’t know how to face him either, especially not after he acted to her. Junghoon doesn’t know how to feel either. Kotone, on the other hand, is also far from amused by his blasé response to her nostalgic suggestions.

“What do you mean what for? she scoffs at his question. “For old times sake!”

“Who else will be there then?” He challenges her plan.

“Anyone else who we’ve met in college, who else?” she retorts.

“Are you sure this isn’t just one of your half-baked plans that you’re just coming up with now just to prove a point?”

Xinyu can’t help but laugh at Junghoon’s banter, but she prolongs her reaction to make herself look like she’s coughing instead. Kotone smirks at the two right after. Well, well, well… She thinks about them. Who knew? Junghoon shakes his head, but he still smiles.

“It will happen!” she insists to him, pointing a finger to both of them. “Just you wait... And I’m gonna have a good look on your faces once you’re back on campus.”

= = =

No matter how many times he avoided her, it seems that there's always a time and place where the two meet eyes and cross each other's paths. They’re now working in the same building after all. Hours become days. Days turn into weeks. He tolerates her countless persistence through the veil of her elegance and courteousness towards all the workers she passes by across the building, while she endures his attempts at often cutting their interactions short under the guise of the head chef’s busy mundane cafeteria schedule.

Regardless of their movements, the cats are out of the bag between these two. A former actress-and-model-turned-fashion-designer and a respected corporate head chef—only themselves and a few people are aware of their personal history. This game of hide and seek isn’t gonna end anytime soon.

= = =

February. It’s way past midnight on a Friday. The head chef had finished organizing and locking the kitchen by himself and is now making his way outside the ground floor of the parking lot to exit the building, considering the main entrance is closed during this hour.

A car stops beside him. He tries to look through the driver’s window out of curiosity, but it’s too dark to recognize anyone from outside. The driver rolls out their window to face Junghoon, revealing to be none other than Xinyu herself. “Where’s your ride?”

“I don't have any,” he bluntly tells her.

His answer confuses her. “What do you mean you don’t have–?” To the point that trying to make sense of it irritates her. A high-paying chef doesn’t own or drive a car? “Wait. Is this one of your excuses to avoid me again?”

“No, I’ve never had a car,” he tries to answer both her questions. “And I’m not avoiding you… I, umm, usually take a walk to the bus stop, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”

“The bus stop?” she scoffs in disbelief. “At this hour?”

“Yeah..? I don’t own a car,” he tells her, hoping it will throw her off and she’ll leave him.

Xinyu doesn’t know if she feels annoyed or dejected about his distance towards her. How he keeps pushing her away now. It didn’t matter because she feels both. In her heart and mind, the woman feels compelled to take initiative in this weird dynamic between them. It’s the least I can do, she thinks to herself. She sighs before looking back at him.

“Get in the car,” she tells him with a straight face.

That’s a response he doesn’t expect to hear from her. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll take you to your apartment…” she shakes her head. “I–I mean drive you there.”

“Thank you for your offer, Zhou Xinyu-nim, but I can still catch the bus.”

“Please don’t give me that honorifics crap, Junghoon-ssi. I’m not here to kidnap you… And besides, it’s already late. Do you really think you can still get a ride out there?” She looks down, hiding her sorrow towards him. “And besides, you don’t have to talk to me.”

Junghoon takes another look at the distance, down the streets. The stop had little to no bystanders. He takes a quick glance at his holographic wristwatch. It’s already 1:44 AM. She has a point. What am I thinking? Junghoon walks up to Xinyu’s car, to which she clicks a button, opening the door to the front passenger seat. But his hand reaches the door beside it, on the back seat. Awkwardness fills the air between the two, but Xinyu rolls her eyes and quickly opens the back seat door. Junghoon immediately opens it.

“Thanks,” is the least he could say to her.

“Don’t mention it.”

Driving outside the ModHaus Parking Lot, she can’t help but steal glances at the back seat through the rear view mirror. He’s looking outside the window. Even in the comfort of his seat, his posture is straight. A bit too straight. She feels the hint of discomfort from him, but his mostly blank somber face and silence tries to hide it.

“Where to?” she asks.

“It ain’t too far from here,” he explains to her. “But I can tell the address to the GPS, if that's okay with you.”

Xinyu clicks on the screen in front of her, activating its built-in digital assistant. He tells AI his address and within seconds, the route to the location pops up. She takes a look at the screen with a nod before easily shifting her gears and stepping on the pedal for this fifteen-minute ride.

He got a new place. Such thoughts begin to pop up in her mind. I mean, of course, he would. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. She can’t help but be curious. Minutes pass, they leave the ModHaus Headquarters. The woman tries to get her mind and eyes off her passenger on the backseat by looking outside the window as she drives across Seoul. Certain memories resurface to her. Ones that put a still smile on her face. Simpler times.

The scenery makes her contemplate. “After all these years, Seoul still looks beautiful.”

“Aside from the bullet trains, brighter and more colorful neon lights, and noisier businesses on the streets, nothing much has changed if you look from a distance.”

“I know I can’t say the same about everything, but…” she smiles at the sight of Seoul. “I’m glad some things stayed, well, the same.”

“I guess some things did,” he concurs, taking another glance at her.

She sets her wheel to semi-autopilot, before taking a deep breath. “Can we talk..?”

“We’re talking right now,” he tells her.

“No, I mean talk about something else,” she continues. “Please…”

Junghoon himself sighs. There’s no energy of anger or resentment left for him, perhaps because that’s not how he mostly feels about Xinyu. Deep down, he feels tired. Tired of running away from her. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Just you know,” she pulls anything from her mind just to keep the conversation going. “How have you been?” She starts with the basics. Surely, that one will lead somewhere.

“I’m doing alright.” So much effort from that response.

“You didn't seem like you’re alright,” she snaps back.

“Well, not everyone gets happy days,” he confesses. “I’m sure you can agree sometimes.”

“I can,” she nods. “And you got a point. I guess I’m just stuck with the past and all…”

Such an answer sends a shiver down in his spine. “How so?”

“You're not as cheerful as you were… Not as optimistic as I knew you.”

“You really are stuck,” he scoffs. “Things change… So do people.”

She can only nod. “But hey… It seems you're doing great… You're a head chef now.”

“You also seem to be living a great life,” he agrees. “I guess it was worth it.”

Her nerve is also struck by his words, knowing what he means. “I guess it was…” she whispers, even though such a response is something that she isn’t sure she believes.

They arrive at Junghoon’s residence. A fifteen-story apartment in the middle of a quiet downtown neighborhood in Cheongdam, Seoul. At least it’s quiet this hour. While not the tallest within the block, it's the same height as most of the buildings alongside it.

Junghoon exits the car and bows to her with respect. “Thank you again, Miss Zhou.”

“It’s…” she bows to him, lowering her head from her seat. “No problem, Junghoon-ssi.”

He reminisces about who she was to him. Before the sorrowful memories. Before she left. The thought of her leaving again constricts his heart. Instead of letting his own past spite keep on pulling him into silence, Junghoon takes a deep breath.

“Xinyu-ssi…” he mutters. To him, it doesn’t matter if he’s shameless for calling her now. Let alone if he’s called an asshole for changing his tone when she kept on putting up with his attitude. Screw his own grudges. Screw his ego. Screw himself. At this moment, all his heart tells him that he just wants to see her again. Even if it’s for a second.

“Yes?” She halts the windows from rolling up, looking back at him with a hopeful gaze.

For a moment, Junghoon looks her in the eye. Yet his mouth hesitates to say something else. At least what he wants to say to her. Like any other sane person with a conscience, he wants to make up for what he’s done. For how he’s treated this person like a brick wall for days.

“Take care.”

Close enough. He still doesn’t know what to think of this. What to feel about any of this. Yet it already feels fifteen times better than how he treated her the last time they’ve met.

And so what else can Xinyu do at the moment? She lets out a smile the second Junghoon turns his back and enters the apartment lobby. The woman drives off away from him, yet not a second, could she think without thinking about what just happened tonight.

Entering his room, Junghoon looks through his window and sighs in silence, slowly unveiling the despair on his face in front of the silent and glistening lights of Seoul. Through the reflection of the glass, he sees a glimpse of himself at a time he rarely reminisces, at least at his own will.

Eight years ago.

= = =

so that's the prologue. if some may have gotten confused by the "cover" of this chapter, I'll just clarify that this isn't a harem story lol. but don't worry, I'm not stopping my one-shots and the other series because they're also w.i.p.s. I just decided to give a taste of this one. there will also be smut here, but right now, I'm setting up this series as it is. stay tuned and, as usual, tysm for the read. if you're a wav, don't forget to stream aya & a25! until next time. ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

#kpop au #male reader #male reader fluff #triples fluff #kpop angst #kpop gg #triples au #triples x reader #triples x male reader

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year ago

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Hey dude. It's me - anon with that SAGAU!kid!reader idea. Well, I was thinking about Liyue or Sumeru men (I'm that kind of person, that's into guys LOL). If there is a relationship, then only platonic one (or maybe father-child in Zhongli's case).

So I will try to go with Zhongli, Baizhu, Alhaitham and Cyno (probably Gaming, cuz he's like a son to me) That's it for now Hope I didn't ask for much tho 😅

CONNECTED TO THIS IDEA!

Aye aye, Anon! God!Child! Reader Platonic Meets Ups It is!

Also plz note that I might not be able to list every Sumeru/Liyue man there is in Genshin bc Im doing this at the top of my head—

Sumeru And Liyuen Men (And Gaming) With The God Child.

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Cyno

The General Mahamatra may not exactly be well-versed when it comes to comforting words (except his puns—and even then, many people would say otherwise), but Cyno is a sincere man. You can trust that he will stick to his word.

And he does, when he promised to look after the Almighty Creator who is a child (not unlike Nahida, but they certainly have more of a mindset of a child—). But was he expecting your chaotic behavior (explosives Klee Style)? Yeah...No.

Bro nearly thought you were held at gunpoint or tricked/manipulated into doing it until he realized you did on your own.

"...Your Grace...Please don't blow up the store again." So instead of protecting you from harm by others, Cyno is more focused on protecting others from harm by you. As much as he doesn't like to think of it that way, you were a lot more dangerous than any eremite or sand monster there was out there.

At least he's still doing his job, being the General Mahamatra! You gift him a flower crown, and he has to take it or else. :)

Tighnari

Since he works with many young forest rangers, and tutors Collei, Tighnari is probably used to dealing with children. Dealing with the Almighty Creator certainly wasn't going to be an issue under this Forest Watcher's eyes.

That was...until you blew up a rishboland tiger. By yourself. On your own. Without getting hurt.

He was not the only freaking out, mind you. Collei was losing it, and Tighnari? He's internally screaming and getting metaphorical heart attacks.

"Your Grace, what were you thinking, running off like that? I know you're strong and you want to protect everyone, but you can really hurt the environment and—" He tries his best to hold back his sassiness while he scolds you, considering some children are much more emotional than others.

He sets up some basic rules for you to follow to make sure that you respect the Avidya Rainforest grounds, but also protect yourself from any form of harm.

Bro becomes a helicopter parent while you're under his care. Have fun, and I hope you enjoy mushrooms. Collei will cook you something else if you don't like what Tighnari cooks, though. :)

Kaveh

This man. He will BUILD you toys. He will DRAW you stories. He may even tell you stories himself.

Mehrak is your best friend when you're around Kaveh. And that man tries his best to make sure your time with him is good. He also refrains from drinking, which is nice! He's improving a little! :D

Absolutely gets worried if you run off without him knowing or if you're hiding from him for too long while playing hide and seek. He goes into an utter MELTDOWN.

And if you blow something up? Boy, if you thought Tighnari getting metaphorical heart attacks was bad, think again—Kaveh might actually get a heart attack.

"Your Grace! What—What were you thinking? Where were you? What did you do? Why did I hear an explosion?!" He's trying to keep himself as calm as possible, but Kaveh is an emotional man. He's kind of failing—

Luckily, with your go-lucky attitude, you pull Kaveh around and take his mind off of work and your explosions! Win-win! :D

Al-haitham

The moment Nahida assigned him the task of taking care of the Almighty Creator, who is a child, bro is planning his things carefully. He is safe-keeping his books, he's renovating Kaveh's bedroom (bc yes), he's buying a few colouring books and crayons.

What he caught him by surprise was not how trusting you were to new strangers you barely knew. It was how you had fun with explosions and exploding everything in your path.

You can imagine as you're being carried away by the Scribe, he's giving you a one-sentence scolding.

"Your Grace, don't ever do that again, it's not nice." He would go into further detail, but he's sure you wouldn't care all that much about data and analysis and stuff like that, so he just ends it as it is.

You're still gonna do it, there's no doubt. It's just now Al-haitham is preparing for your next incoming attack as well.

Zhongli

Grandpa gramps is here woohoo! He's probably the most calmest out of everyone on this request list LOL. You can imagine he's following you calmly, apologizing and paying (through Childe's money cough) for the damages you caused.

Believe it or not, but it was Hu Tao who found you first and decided to take you to Mr. Zhongli for babysitting. He contemplates how the Director found you and brought you back.

The first time you explode something, he is definitely surprised. And concerned of the people who got hurt. You can't fault him for being worried for the mortals that were involved—Liyue Harbor is basically his child. Bro's been governing it for thousands of years.

"Your Grace, Little One, let's try not to put strain in the efforts of an adult's day-to-day life." He scolds you, and will definitely be more keen on your whereabouts, but he does this in a gentle tone. At the very least, you give him something to do that doesn't require him to present himself as the supposedly "deceased" Geo Archon.

Baizhu

With the guy's health issues...it's hard to say if he'll be able to keep up with you and your constant outings all around Liyue Harbor. Changsheng is definitely worried about Baizhu's stress levels as he has to figure out what you did this time and make sure no one was harmed.

He constantly has to ask Qiqi to go find you since he literally cannot keep up with your speed, lest he actually faints or something. You were that quick.

Luckily, if he hears of your whereabouts, he will definitely arrive just in time to apologize and give free check-ups to everyone involved in your explosion party.

"Now, Your Grace, please refrain from hurting others. It's not good to hurt someone's health." You can certainly expect Baizhu to give you a scolding—as well as a basic understanding of medical care in case either you or someone else will need it, and he can't make it there in time.

Like Kaeya (And Tighnari in this post), Baizhu will definitely write you some rules in a notebook and makes you recite them at least twice a day so that you remember not to hurt other people or damage your own health.

He is a doctor for a reason. It's his job to look out for others—even chaotic children with explosives.

Gaming

HAVE NO FEAR, GAMING IS HERE!

Bro is basically your Big Brother who does cool dances and gives you snacks and protects you. Since he's a real foody, you'll definitely know which places are the best to buy snacks!

You find his Wushou Dancing cool as well. He takes pride in it tbh. I mean, who wouldn't be ecstatic if the Almighty Creator loves it?

He does get a bit panic-y when he sees you blow things up, though. As much as he wants to pursue Wushou Dancing as his daily career, he still needs his job as a Shipment Guard.

"Y/N! No! Don't blow that up—!" Yes, he took you out once to travel with the shipment goods for one time, and he's never taken you with him again unless you promise not to blow anything that are near the goods.

He usually leaves you in Liyue Harbor when he's making these Shipment trips, but once he returns, you can certainly count on him to give you some tasty snack or a fulfilling dinner, as well as a free small Wushou Dance.

Big Brother Gaming does not disappoint!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I AM VERY DEAD. I AM SO SORRY SOBBING. Life hits you hard and fast sometimes sigh. I've been so busy I haven't been posting much—but rest assured, I have quite a lot of posts for you guys very soon!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

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itsrlymine · 4 months ago

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Hello! I have a question about manifesting a skill, and i would really love ur advice on it plz.

So Let’s say I’m learning how to draw, so I decide now that I’m the best artist ever. However, when I start drawing, it doesn't turn out the way I want it to or I don’t see any improvement…Should I just continue to affirm and ignore what I drew, telling myself, “Yep, I’m the best artist ever”? Should I proceed normally despite the results?

Whenever I keep drawing and notice that it isn’t meeting my expectations, it leads to me feeling unmotivated. This makes me feel like I need to practice more, which I don’t want to do lol. After all, if I had the skill already, wouldn’t that mean I don’t need to practice at all? For example let’s say I wanted to draw hands and they don't come out the way I wanted … do I just keep going and not practice it? or do I look up how to draw it? lol I feel like looking for help defeats the purpose of practicing since I said I know how to do it.

How can I get myself out of the mindset of feeling the need to practice all the time to "improve"? I'm constantly seeing comments in the art community like, "It's going to take time to get to where I am," or "You need to practice every day for at least 10 minutes to get better."

I think I’m most confused when it comes to the practice part of wanting to manifest a new skill. Bc why would I need to learn if I know everything ? lol. I try not to let the 3d get to me so I’ll usually just put my art book away and then I’ll affirm that I’m the best at it all. It just sucks to feel that unmotivation to grab my book, since I feel like I'm not making any progress and that I have to practice to get better.

I have the same question when it comes to learning how to sing or picking up a new language. For instance, if I say I'm the best singer, what do I do when I don't sound good or not quite how I want? Or if I say I know how to speak all languages but struggle to speak it?

Idk If this is a dumb question or a confusing one but plz help lol I think I’m a little confused! I just wanted to know so I can realize my mistakes so I won’t make them again. I’m so Srry this is a lot 😭. Tysm❤️

it's okay but you answered your own question. you are doing to decide no matter what you see that you are no the best artist bc you are! that's your identity now so what ever you create is proof of that. the art is amazing bc you are, not the other way around.

i'm also an artist and a writer. i've established within myself that no matter what, i'm incredible at what i do so everything i create will prove it to me. sometimes i'll make something and be confused like girl let's be so fr. but if you stay in that mindset, you will have something prove you right. when you decide "yea no, this is incredible and da vinci has nothing on me", you will see how that change in the mind "changes" the work you make. everything is a reflection of you.

draw when you feel inspired to and never force it. do whatever feels natural to you. your only job is to remind yourself of your greatness.

revision is a thing so if you say you struggle to speak it, no you don't. there is no need to force, just know. you want to be an amazing singer, recognize that you are now.

lady gaga convinced herself she was the greatest "before" she was the greatest. she was the entire time, she just became aware of it. i hope this helps.

#anon ask #itsrlymine #law of assumption #imagination is reality #lawofassumption #manifesting #lady gaga

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windvexer · 2 months ago

Text

Brief notes on conjuring and creating to fill a void left by banishment

I've had a solid rule of thumb for many years, maybe one of the first bits of actually useful magical things I learned, and it's just that banishing and conjuring go together and inasmuch as possible you should always do them both if you're going to do one.

We can conceptualize any given life or situation or whatever is cosmically 'full.' I don't mean full of metaphysical energy, but rather that the strands of fate that weave the tapestry of life are always woven tight. Necessity and the Fates do not leave gaps.

Therefore, if you want to conjure something into your life - manifest something new - then it serves you very well to first banish something else, like slipping a thread out of the tapestry of your life, so that there is a blank space ready to be filled up with what you want to conjure.

Conversely, if you want to banish something and really keep it gone for good (and I mean, banishing spirits, cord-cutting to get people out of your life, banishing situations or even banishing likely futures), then you'd really be stacking the deck in your favor if you conjured something else to sit in that blank space and fill it up right away, so that the old thing you banished can't sneak it's way back in again.

What you conjure to fill up a banishment-hole, and what you banish to make space for conjuring, can be pretty loosey-goosey. The magic will do it's best to fit in.

To make room for what you'll conjure, try framing your banishment as a sacrifice. All magic requires sacrifice, it's sometimes said. Perhaps true, and many such cases.

Knowing that what you want to conjure will take up such-and-such energy, time out of your day, resources in your life, occupy your available slots for relationships or brainpower, what exists in your life now that you will sacrifice on your altar so its blood can nourish your seedlings of desire?

Along very much the same lines, anything you banish can be viewed as a sacrifice to let something else in (maybe a very useful mindset if the banishing is of unwanted people). The key is that you should choose what you want to bring in and cast a spell to manifest it as soon as possible, even immediately after, you cast the banishment spell.

But that being said, are there any practical considerations you should make for how to choose what you banish or conjure?

I recommend approaching it somewhat like breaking a bad habit by substituting it with something else.

A cigarette smoker trying to quit might identify the oral aspect of their addiction, the ritual of lighting a cigarette, or the quiet time alone outside as things they feel compelled to engage with, even if they don't want to.

Therefore, a smoker might choose to start chewing gum (oral stimulation), fold a paper crane (ritual focus), or repeating a prayer (calming distance) in order to replace their addiction with less harmful habits.

When you want to work a conjure-banish combo (in either order), try approaching it in the same way.

I want to conjure more hours at my job, which will require my time and labor. Maybe I sacrifice hours spent in my garden, or my gaming guild.

I want to banish a person who always makes me nervous and sad, so I pick up a habit of watching k-dramas.

I want to experience the satisfaction of attainment by seeing more money in my bank, so I sacrifice the satisfaction of attainment I get from impulse purchases.

I do not find any of the particular things to be of importance:

That the newly conjured thing be vastly different, new, or unique in your life; it only needs to be something that can expand to fill the space.

That the banished thing be unique or singular; other similar things can remain in your life, as long as their waterways don't spill over into the pond you're trying to drain.

That you must replace a banished person with a conjured person, or a banished object with a conjured object, or anything matchy-matchy like this; you can replace links with other people with hobbies, interests, an improved sleep schedule, or anything that will sufficiently blossom to fill up the space they took up in your life.

I find the following to be true and helpful:

Conjuring and banishing go hand in hand. To redouble your efforts, cast two protections: one to protect yourself against the banished thing (so it can't easily return), and one to protect the conjured thing's rightful place in your life (so it can't easily be displaced).

[[There exists magic to expand, retract, or modify the boundaries of your life so that more sum total things can be attained at once, without having to sacrifice other things; Saturn is a solid lead on that, as well as a variety of magical remediations which overlap with healing and doctoring. Basically, you want to heal, reinforce, and sometimes recondition areas of your life, like mending a broken bag, so that (say) your Financial Life can literally hold more things without dropping them.]]

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moonselune · 8 months ago

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How about the girlies with a druid tav who acts like the animal they often shift to like a cat just finding random places to laze around or sleep yk 'if it fits I sits'. Birb collecting shiny things, dog tilting their head and being easily distracted. Tav in human form acting like a cat is just giving the best vibes. Tav seeing a random open box and just sitting in it then dozing off has me rolling haha

omg i literally love this so much !!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The sun was high in the sky, casting warm light over the rolling fields where you and Karlach had been spending the afternoon training. It was supposed to be a routine day—tracking drills, sparring, a bit of scouting. But as a druid, your way of training often involved shifting into different animals to make the most of your natural abilities. Today, you had taken on the form of a bloodhound, your favorite for hunting down tracks and practicing your scenting skills.

Karlach, as usual, had been more than eager to spar and train alongside you. Her energy was contagious, her fiery spirit burning bright even during something as mundane as drills. But you had noticed something about Karlach—something playful in the way she interacted with you when you were in your animal form. Especially when you shifted back to your human shape.

You had just finished running down the scent of some game you’d picked up in the forest, nose to the ground, tail wagging. The moment you caught the trail, you raced ahead, your paws thudding against the dirt, and found the spot where the animal had passed. Karlach whistled, grinning from ear to ear as you skidded to a halt.

"That's my girl! Good job!" she called, her voice full of praise. "Come back here."

You shifted back to your human form, still breathless from the sprint, your chest heaving as you wiped the dirt from your hands. But as you approached Karlach, you felt that familiar tug of something instinctual still lingering in you. Your ears twitched, even though they were no longer dog ears, and you couldn’t shake the desire to return to her with your find, as if you were still that bloodhound.

Karlach noticed, of course. She always did.

"That was pretty good!" she said, tossing a ball she’d pulled from her pack up in the air, catching it effortlessly. “But I think you need a little more speed. Let’s do a quick sprint drill.”

You eyed the ball warily, the scent of leather filling your nostrils. The sight of it made your heart race in a way that had little to do with training and more to do with the part of your mind that was still stuck in that canine mindset. Karlach had this knowing smile on her lips, but you didn’t quite catch on at first.

She wound up her arm and launched the ball into the distance. Instinct took over. Without thinking, you bolted after it, your legs moving in a blur as you sprinted across the field. The wind rushed through your hair, and for a split second, you felt completely free. You skidded to a stop as you snatched the ball up, holding it proudly before sprinting back to Karlach.

“Nice job!” Karlach beamed at you, her voice full of laughter. “You’re getting faster.”

You handed her the ball, not quite realizing yet what she was doing. Her hand brushed yours as she took it, and for a moment, you caught the warmth in her eyes, the playful spark. She tossed the ball into the air again, casually, as if thinking out loud.

"How about we try that again? Just one more for good measure."

Without hesitation, she threw it again, and again, you were off. Your mind was half-aware now, starting to piece together what was happening. But the thrill of the chase, the simple joy of it, was intoxicating. You snatched up the ball and raced back, your chest burning but your heart still pounding with excitement.

By the third time, you caught the ball and paused, panting heavily, staring at it in your hands. Slowly, you looked back at Karlach, who was standing there, arms crossed, grinning wide as if she had just won a secret game. The realization hit you all at once.

This wasn’t a "training drill." This was fetch.

You blinked, incredulous, before narrowing your eyes at Karlach, who had the audacity to chuckle when she saw the look on your face.

“Oh,” you muttered, still catching your breath. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

Karlach held up her hands, mock-innocent. "What? I’m just making sure you’re quick on your feet!"

You could see through her little ruse now. All the signs were there—the way she had been egging you on, the suspiciously casual way she had pulled out the ball, the grin she wore every time you returned to her.

With a low growl, you dropped the ball and launched yourself at her, tackling her to the ground. Karlach let out a playful yelp, laughing as she hit the grass beneath you. Her arms came up to wrap around you as you pinned her, your weight pressing her into the earth.

“Oh, I messed up, didn’t I?” she laughed, eyes twinkling with mischief as she grinned up at you.

“Training drills, huh?” you huffed, still out of breath, but unable to hold back your smile. “You were playing fetch with me.”

Karlach grinned even wider, not even trying to deny it now.

“Well, you’re such a good girl! How could I resist?” She winked at you, clearly delighted with her antics and you shoved down the emotions that bubbled up inside you when she called you a good girl.

You shook your head, feeling the laughter rise up despite yourself. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Karlach’s hands slid up to your sides, her touch warm and steady, grounding you in the moment. “Impossible, maybe. But you love me for it, don’t you?”

You couldn’t argue with that. Despite the teasing, despite her antics, there was something about Karlach that always made you feel more alive, more yourself—whether you were in human form or as a bloodhound.

Leaning down, you pressed your forehead to hers, your breath mingling with hers as you smiled softly.

“Maybe I do,” you murmured. “But don’t think you’re getting away with this again.”

Karlach let out a laugh, her arms tightening around you. “We’ll see about that. But admit it—you had fun.”

You couldn’t deny that either. The joy of the chase, the thrill of the sprint—it was fun. But what made it better was Karlach. Always Karlach. With a playful growl, you kissed her, capturing her laughter in your lips as you held her close.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The night was calm, the crackle of the campfire filling the stillness with a warm, steady rhythm. Minthara sat by the fire, her eyes focused intently on the battle plans laid out before her. The parchment was covered in precise markings and strategies, illuminated by the flickering flames. She was in her element—methodical, calculating, and completely engrossed in her work.

You, however, were feeling something entirely different.

After a long day of scouting and sneaking around in your feline form, you had shifted back to your usual self, but not without retaining some of those lingering feline tendencies. It happened sometimes. The fluidity of movement, the heightened senses, and, occasionally, the overwhelming desire for comfort in the least convenient of places.

Minthara looked quite comfortable where she sat, perched on a smooth boulder with her legs crossed, completely absorbed in her work. The fire roaring in front of her. There wasn’t much room in her lap, not really—but it was a lap, and the cat in you wanted nothing more than to curl up in it.

You moved closer, silently at first, hoping to sneak in without interrupting her. The firelight cast soft shadows across your face as you neared her, and for a brief moment, Minthara didn’t seem to notice your approach. But, of course, she did. Her sharp instincts wouldn’t allow anything less.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught your movement and immediately frowned. “

No,” she said firmly, her eyes narrowing. “There’s no room.”

You didn’t stop.

Minthara’s frown deepened as she returned her gaze to the battle plans, clearly trying to refocus. “I said no.”

But you ignored her again, your instincts driving you to keep moving closer. You could fit. You would fit.

She looked up once more, this time with more insistence. “I am not some cushion for you to lounge upon. This is important.”

But her words fell on deaf ears as you finally reached her, carefully navigating your way into her lap, despite the lack of space. It was a bit of a squeeze, admittedly, but you were determined. You wriggled and shifted, moving from side to side, adjusting until you could curl up just right.

Minthara let out a long, exasperated sigh. “You are utterly insufferable.”

You simply gave her a satisfied hum in response, continuing to squirm until you found the perfect position. Once you were nestled comfortably, you settled against her, your head resting on her chest, your body snug against her armor. There. Perfect.

Minthara, despite her earlier protests, didn’t push you away. Her free hand, the one not holding the battle plans, instinctively moved to your hair, her fingers sliding through it gently, as though she had resigned herself to this fate.

“I don’t know why I tolerate this,” she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with begrudging affection.

You practically purred in response, a soft sound of contentment escaping your lips as you closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. Minthara’s fingers continued to comb through your hair, slow and deliberate, almost absentminded as she shifted her attention back to her plans.

Despite her stern exterior, you knew there was a tenderness in her that she seldom showed to anyone. A softness that only you seemed to coax out of her, even in moments like this, when she was focused on her duties.

As the fire crackled in front of you both and the night settled in, you felt yourself drifting in and out of a peaceful haze. You could hear Minthara muttering to herself occasionally as she examined her plans, her fingers still tangled in your hair. It was a quiet, intimate moment, one where her sharpness met your playfulness and somehow balanced into something that felt just right.

“Next time,” Minthara said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “there will be no sitting in my lap when I am working.”

You smiled lazily, your eyes half-closed.

“Of course,” you murmured, though both of you knew that the next time would be no different.

Minthara shook her head, but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips as she continued her work, her hand never leaving your hair.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

You shifted back into your human form, the familiar sensation of bones and feathers returning to skin and flesh. The transformation left you momentarily dizzy, but you quickly regained your balance, shaking off the brief disorientation. Being a bird for hours, scouting the surrounding area, had become second nature to you, and with that form came certain habits you hadn’t entirely shaken off.

Your eyes immediately darted down to your hand, a grin forming as you revealed your latest prize—a small, glinting object that had caught your eye during your flight. It was a silver buckle, not entirely dissimilar to the dozens of other trinkets you had already found, but its smooth surface and the way the light reflected off it made it irresistible. Without a second thought, you strode towards Lae'zel, who was sharpening her sword by the fire, her usual sharp gaze focused on her weapon.

"Look what I found!" you said, holding the shiny buckle out towards her with an eager smile.

Lae’zel barely looked up at first, her frown deepening as if she already knew what was coming. She glanced at the buckle, her amber eyes narrowing slightly.

"And what use is that?" she asked, her voice carrying the usual bite of impatience.

You shrugged playfully, still holding the trinket towards her. "It’s shiny."

Lae'zel huffed, setting her sword down and turning her full attention to you. She snatched the buckle from your hand, inspecting it briefly before tossing it aside into one of her pouches—likely the one she had reserved for your growing collection of 'useless junk.'

"You bring me these worthless baubles as if I have any need for them," she grumbled, though her tone was softer than usual. "If you cannot bring me something useful, I will throw it all away. Understand?"

You nodded, though you both knew that wasn't entirely true. Lae'zel had been saying that for weeks now, but each time, she would tuck the shiny objects away, muttering about how she would discard them later. Yet, every time you checked, the pouches were still full, brimming with an odd assortment of things—coins, polished stones, broken arrowheads, bits of metal.

You didn’t need her to admit it, but there was something almost endearing about her reluctance to actually throw them away.

"Well, sometimes I bring useful things," you teased, reaching into your bag and pulling out a dagger you had found during one of your scouting trips. "See? This one is sharp."

Lae'zel raised an eyebrow, clearly more impressed by the weapon. She examined it closely, turning the blade over in her hand before giving a small, approving nod.

"This," she said, "is acceptable. You should bring more things like this."

You smirked, enjoying her small display of approval. "I can't help it," you said, settling down beside her. "The shiny things just call to me."

"Like a bird," she muttered, not unkindly, her eyes flicking back to you with a look of mild exasperation. "You shift into a bird for hours, and then you return with nonsense. It is as if you have forgotten what it means to be grounded."

You chuckled, leaning your head against her shoulder. "Maybe I have. But I like bringing you things, even if you say they’re nonsense."

Lae'zel didn't respond right away. Instead, she resumed sharpening her sword, though her movements were slower, more deliberate. You could feel the warmth of her beside you, the steadiness of her presence calming the lingering excitement from your flight.

After a long moment, she sighed. "Next time, bring something I can use in battle. Not… a bottle cap."

"I’ll try," you promised, though you knew full well you’d likely still come back with another useless trinket alongside the weapons or arrows. Lae'zel paused, glancing at you again, her gaze softer this time.

"I do not understand your fascination with these things," she admitted quietly, "but you are… persistent. And though I do not need them, I will… keep them, for now."

A smile tugged at your lips, and you nudged her playfully. "You like them."

Lae'zel scoffed, but there was no real venom behind it. "Do not test me, druid. I tolerate this foolishness for now."

You chuckled, knowing full well she wouldn’t actually throw them away. The pouches full of shiny objects—your small, odd gifts—were still there, and deep down, you suspected that despite her words, she found some strange comfort in them. They were part of you, and for all her talk of battle and strength, Lae’zel had a softer side, one that you had slowly but surely started to uncover.

As she resumed sharpening her sword, you leaned back against her, your fingers grazing the edge of the pouch where your collection of trinkets now rested. For a moment, the two of you sat there in silence, the crackle of the fire and the steady rhythm of Lae'zel's movements the only sounds in the camp.

"I'll bring you something even shinier next time," you whispered mischievously.

Lae'zel just sighed, shaking her head, though you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Whatever, love."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart sat by the campfire, meticulously polishing her armor after a long day of travel and battle. Her face, illuminated by the flickering flames, was calm but focused, eyes narrowed in concentration as she worked. The quiet hum of the evening surrounded her, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant chirping of crickets.

You, on the other hand, were still feeling the residual energy from your last shift. In the heat of battle, you had taken the form of a serpent, slithering through the chaos with lethal precision. The thrill of it still hummed in your veins, and even though you had shifted back into your human form, the snake-like tendencies lingered—just as they always did.

As you approached Shadowheart, her back turned to you, you couldn’t help the sly smile that crept across your face. There was something about the way she sat there, so focused, so collected, that made you want to unravel her composure, even if just a little.

Without a word, you came up behind her and slowly, deliberately, wrapped your arms around her shoulders, your body pressing close to hers. Shadowheart’s hands froze for a moment, her grip tightening on the armor she was polishing.

“Again?” she sighed, her tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Can’t you ever just approach like a normal person?”

But even as she spoke, there was no resistance in her posture. She knew what was coming.

You smirked, leaning in to press your cheek against hers. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With slow, fluid movements, you let your arms snake around her, mimicking the way your serpent form would coil around its prey. You squeezed her lightly, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough that she felt the pressure, locking her against you. It was an old habit now—this need to wrap yourself around her, to feel her close, like you did in your more serpentine moments.

Shadowheart let out a small, breathy laugh, her head tilting slightly as she glanced at you out of the corner of her eye.

“You know, I have things to do,” she said, though there was no real edge to her words.

You gave a mock pout, squeezing her a little tighter, your arms locking her in place. “Do you have to? I think you’re perfectly fine right here.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t try to pull away. “I can’t very well get anything done when you do this,” she pointed out, her voice light but teasing. “And you’re forgetting something important.”

“Oh?” you asked, shifting slightly so that your arms tightened around her waist. “What might that be?”

Her hand came up to rest over yours, giving a gentle tug as she turned her head to look at you more fully.

“That I need to breathe,” she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. You blinked, pretending to act surprised.

“Breathing is important, I suppose,” you said, though you didn’t loosen your grip right away. Instead, you leaned in closer, your nose brushing against her neck as you spoke in a low, teasing tone. “But you do look quite lovely all tangled up like this.”

Shadowheart sighed, her tone feigning annoyance but laced with affection. “You’re impossible.”

She shifted beneath your grip, trying to regain some semblance of mobility, but you held her fast, your arms curling around her even tighter. You loved the feel of her warmth beneath your touch, the way she would sigh and lean into you even as she protested. It was a need, a craving to feel her close, to wrap yourself around her like the serpent you so often became, your body and mind still echoing the instincts of your wild shape.

But Shadowheart, as always, was sharp. She gave your hand another squeeze, this time more pointed.

“Come on,” she whispered, her voice dropping lower as she leaned her head back slightly against your shoulder. “I really do have work to finish.”

You groaned playfully, loosening your grip just a little but still keeping her close. “Can’t it wait? Just for a little while?”

Her smile softened at that, and she turned her head so that her lips brushed against your cheek, a brief but tender gesture. “Only if you promise not to squeeze me so tight next time. I like having my ribs intact.”

You chuckled, finally loosening your hold enough for her to breathe more easily. “Fine. But only because you asked nicely.”

Shadowheart stood, brushing off her armor and shaking her head in mock frustration. She gathered her things, though you noticed she still lingered near you, her gaze flickering to you every so often as if she, too, was reluctant to fully pull away.

As she started to move back to her tasks, she paused, looking at you over her shoulder. “You’ll stay out of trouble while I finish up, won’t you?”

You grinned, leaning back against the tree and stretching your arms behind your head. “No promises.”

She gave you a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and amusement.

“Just try not to coil around me again while I’m working,” she said with a wink. “I’d like to get through one night without being squeezed to death.”

You laughed, watching her walk away before calling out, “We’ll see about that.”

You knew you’d coil yourself around her again before the night was over. But for now, you let her have her moment of peace—because no matter how much you wanted to keep her close, you knew that, with Shadowheart, there was always a perfect balance between the wild and the calm.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheria:

Jaheira had grown used to your peculiar habits, though that didn't mean they never surprised her. As a druid, shifting into various animal forms was second nature to you, and you often took on the traits of whatever creature you had most recently embodied. Jaheira had seen it all—your quick reflexes, your uncanny ability to sneak around like a shadow, and most curiously, your newfound obsession with small, confined spaces.

The first time she found you curled up inside a box at camp, she hadn’t known whether to be amused or exasperated. The box in question had once held supplies, and you had somehow managed to squeeze yourself into it, sound asleep. Your knees were tucked to your chest, and your arms wrapped around your legs, looking exactly like a cat napping in the most inconvenient place. Jaheira had stood there for a long moment, arms crossed, staring down at you with raised eyebrows.

“Out of all the places to sleep,” she muttered to herself. “A box?”

Of course, being the practical woman she was, Jaheira didn’t disturb you. Instead, she quietly found a blanket and draped it over your curled-up form, shaking her head with a mixture of fondness and bemusement before leaving you to your nap.

But that wasn’t the last time she’d catch you doing something like that.

One morning, just as dawn began to break over the horizon, Jaheira woke to find herself alone in bed—at least, at first glance. She reached out instinctively, expecting to find you beside her, but her hand landed on the cool, empty sheets instead. A frown tugged at her lips, her mind still hazy with sleep. She shifted slightly, about to sit up when something stopped her—a soft, warm pressure against her pillow.

Turning her head slowly, Jaheira blinked in surprise.

There you were, sprawled across your pillow, your head resting precariously close to hers, face just inches away. You weren’t lying normally like any rational person might; no, you had positioned yourself on top of your pillow, your limbs draped lazily over her side of the bed. Your face was nestled right next to her pillow, and your breathing was soft and rhythmic, your body completely relaxed in the strange position you'd chosen.

Jaheira sighed, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched you. It was as though you had forgotten, once again, that you were no longer in the form of a cat. The way you stretched yourself out so carelessly, how you claimed the bed without a second thought, reminded her of how cats could make themselves comfortable anywhere, no matter how strange or inconvenient the location.

She couldn't help but chuckle quietly to herself. The sight of you like this—peaceful, unguarded—warmed her heart. Jaheira, for all her gruffness and practical nature, had always had a soft spot for the more unusual aspects of your personality. Even when you frustrated her with your odd tendencies, there was something endearing about the way you embraced them so fully.

Careful not to disturb you, Jaheira shifted onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow as she studied your sleeping face. Your hair was a little mussed, and your lips parted ever so slightly as you slept. She had to admit, there was something calming about seeing you so at ease, even if your choice of sleeping position left much to be desired.

Jaheira reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. The warmth of your skin beneath her touch made her smile again. She thought about waking you—after all, it wasn’t exactly comfortable for her with you sprawled out this way—but as she watched you, she found she didn’t have the heart to disturb your slumber.

Instead, she leaned in slightly, her lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, fleeting kiss.

"You strange, strange creature," she whispered affectionately, her voice low and amused.

As if sensing her presence, you stirred slightly, your brow furrowing in your sleep. You let out a soft, barely audible sound—a sleepy sigh—before nuzzling your face deeper into the pillow, your body shifting closer to hers. Jaheira chuckled again, shaking her head at your feline-like persistence.

She adjusted herself slightly, carefully shifting her pillow so there was a bit more room for her. Then, with a quiet sigh, she settled back down, allowing herself to drift closer to you. As inconvenient as your habits could be, Jaheira had grown to love these moments of closeness—the quiet intimacy that came from simply being near you, even when you were completely unaware.

The warmth of your body, the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept, brought her a sense of comfort she hadn’t known she needed. And though she would never admit it, she liked these moments more than she let on.

"Sleep well, kitten," she murmured with a smirk, before letting sleep take her once more.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Guys even as I wrote this my cat was trying to sit on my laptop, if you ever see a typo or spelling mistake, know that it was my cat having her input. Hope you guys enjoyed this !! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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dancing-dawn · 25 days ago

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atsushi for the ask game 🙏

Oh my darling boy, my sweetest joy, oh, how this ask has brought the brightest smile upon my face. Hihi this is gonna be a long one, I tried my best to restrain myself, I swear!

Favourite thing

Boldsushi! SASSUSHI! I love how unapologetically cocky and no-bullshit he gets when surrounded by utter madness and at some (many) points he feels like the only reasonable person in the room. He is also literally the most unique and lovable (once you get to really know him) protagonist I've ever read. My boy is so complex and to me, out of the whole cast, he feels the most like a real person.

Least favourite thing

Atp I adore canon Atsushi so much, the only thing I dislike is his fanon perception. In particular - people who just do not get why he's a compelling protagonist and not a "weak pathetic crybaby." I am pointing knives at everyone who still dares to STILL utter those lies this after recent chapters.

Favourite line

*clears throat*

"Away with you... you fool."

...but! Considering that is not an original thought but a shamelessly stolen flirty dramatic ass pick-up line from our second best boy xD I'll give you another, the silly and the serious:

"All this cause of Dazai, well, Dazai, my ass!"

-> oh the amount of times I have rewided to hear this over and over, laughing hysterically every single time, oh dear

Ok now for the serious one:

"Akutagawaaaaaa!"

"People need to be told they're worthy of being alive by someone else or they can't go on."

-> I love this one because of how blatantly wrong he is. And by wrong, I mean having an unhealthy mindset plagued by deep-rooted trauma, and this being the only way he's learned to cope. That's why he's a fascinating character. He's not saying this as a "lesson" or "moral" to the audience, nor as an objective truth - he's simply stating what he believes in and what drives him to keep going. Obviously this is an incredibly dangerous life policy to have because if you surround yourself by people who don't have your best interest in mind, and you rely on them to tell you what your worth is and why you're allowed to live - then you're just doomed, you're playing with the hazard of life and walking the thinnest line between hope and despair.

I can get into how this also connects to Akutagawa’s influence on Atsushi as he, subconsciously or not, helps him grow in the direction of living seperately from his past and abiding by his own ideals (something that is mirrored by Aku's own struggles), seeing his self-worth and taking action EVEN if faced with his biggest fear of being alone, even when the world is against him and there's no one there to pat him on the back and tell him he did a good job, even when everything and everyone has fought for is gone and he's left to pick up the pieces and he needs to believe his strength goes beyond the tiger's prowess, that he exists for a reason and he is enough, he is allowed to believe himself worthy of going on...

...but this wall of text is gonna have no end, so maybe another time!

brOTP

Kyouka & Atsushi. There is just no stronger familial relationship than those two and their influence on each other's lives is very sweet and very important. For me this hits especially hard in Beast and makes me tear up, just a bit (totally). I also regularly think about the crepe scene and it fills my heart with warmth and joy. Big brother Atsushi, my love, I will die for you (im almost starting to sound like yk who, jesus).

OTP

Ahem, *clears throat again*

*picks up the microphone* *leans down and whispers*

"Skin Soukoku."

*the crowd claps and cheers, showering me with bouquets of daisies and black roses* *i bow and take my leave, the faintest trace of a smile on my face*

nOTP

mmmm I actually don't have one, I think?? Even tho I will die on my sskk hill, I respect all ships with Atsushi because they're just wholesome and fun if you imagine then in an alternate universe (where Aku somehow doesn't exist *cough*) I guess if you're fooorcing me to choose, I will have to say Dazatsu because it just doesn't make sense to me, I cannot even see it making sense in any universe or scenario - for me they are simply mentor and mentee, barely even friends at max. The hierarchy gap here is just too large, I feel. But I enjoy some cute fanarts here and there for fun nonetheless <3

Random headcanon

He is absolutely ogling every single cutesy tiger-themed article of clothing and furniture he sees but needs to restrain himself due to the imaginary flies coming out of his wallet. Kyouka notices this someday and buys him a baby tiger plushie or some cartoony tiger bedsheets (*cough* which I may or may not have already written into my wip *cough*).

Unpopular opinion

Considering my only habitat is sskk circles with very insighful people who understand his character mmmm it's a bit hard for me to know what is unpopular. But I'm gonna say that his flashbacks to the orphanage are not reduntant at all, no matter how repetitive they get, because it honestly feels like how a real person would experience trauma. It's not sugar-coated or glorified for the interest of the story, it just feels genuine yk?

Song I associate with them

Lacy - Olivia Rodrigo, because of this gorgeous animatic by @piedpip3rrr

For the love of everything, please just drop everything for a minute and watch this, if you haven't already.

Everything about it is sheer perfection - the storytelling, the relation of the characters to the lyrics, the incredibly expressive and gorgeous drawings, the coloring (that has a storytelling of its own even!!), the subtle motions that just pull on your heartstrings with every single beat. I love this thing <3

Favourite picture

*pushes my sunglasses slightly over the bridge of my nose and slides this across our imaginary table*

*disappears into the shadows*

...

*feral shouting resonates through the aforementioned shadows*

Ok OK LIsteN. I think, and I am correct, that we as a fandom have failed spectacularly by getting over this panel WAY so soon. Yes, I have the "you fool" one printed out at my desk and I stare at it lovingly every half hour or so, but THIS ONE! Oh, this belongs in a museum. I would pay money if I had to, just to rest my gaze upon it for a mere second. I believe I need not express myself on why it's so magnificent... but I'm gonna do it anyway, becuz who's stopping me, my blog my rules woooo! :D

1. Peak of Harukawa's new art style. Hands down. The softness of his features. The tender look in his eyes. The composition is strikingly dynamic and just heartbreaking to take it all in. There is a dream-like quality to it that makes it feel ethereal, yet it depicts a living nightmare.

2. Oh, the hand reaching out for Aku. The way he turned his whole body to face him mid fall. As if he's seeking comfort because he's scared to die alone and he's scared of leaving his partner, no matter if he knows his strength and believes in him with his whole being. The way there is not an inkling of regret in his eyes, because he's finally done the right thing. It's his closure, his retribution, his response to a sacrifice in his own name that he didn't believe himself worthy of. But now he understands. Need I say more?

P.S. Link to the Aku sequel because they shall always come as a pair <3

#yelp #not sorry for this length of this teheee #ask game #bsd atsushi #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd atsushi nakajima #sskk #shin soukoku #because it's like a third of the post imao #bsd analysis #i love atsushi did yall notice #atsushi best protagonist in history change my mind #u cant

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calamitys-child · 1 month ago

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I'm always so self conscious about being bad at stuff but I have to say small children are the best audience for when you're bad at something bc they also don't know how to do anything and all they know is how to be encouraging about trying new things bc they hear it all day every day. Several toddlers riding tricycles have now paused passing me to tell me I've done a good job falling off a skateboard and it's okay to be wobbly if you try again and it's genuinely so cute. I wish more adults held onto that mindset. I mind one time years ago I was trying over and over again to go round a corner on my pals longboard and I just kept failing and when I finally did it I heard applause and there was a 5 year old leaning out their window with their gran who yelled "he's been watching you practice all day and says he's proud of you!" like God. More of that in society please. I'm still shit at skateboarding but it's nice to just play about sometimes yknow

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agirlwithglam · 1 year ago

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becoming selfish is the best thing i ever did.

✧*. * · ~ thewizardliz 💖🕯

youtube

💖 stop going into arguments with people who are not willing to listen. it is completely useless. if your boundaries were crossed, and the other person is not willing to say "im sorry for doing that, i won't do it again", then conversation over. its done. its not worth your time or energy.

🕯prioritise your own needs and wants. fill your own cup! are you okay? are you whole? if you don't want to do something, dont do it. whatever you want, comes first.

💖 stop being always available and trying to save everyone. if you keep on being there for people- again and again and again, you are letting people use you. people will only reach out to you if they have problems or they need help. but what about when everything is going good? then what? do they come to you? you are showing them that they can always come to you and you will always be there but that shouldn't be the case. be able to say "i dont want to listen to your problems today. i have enough of my own problems and goals to worry about." the only reason they come is because YOU allow them to come.

you ask yourself why does anyone not make sure i am ok? thats because YOU do not make sure you're okay. remember that you cannot save everyone. IT IS NOT YOUR JOB TO SAVE EVERYONE.

🕯sometimes god gives you situations so you can grow. also if you are constantly trying to step in for God to help and save everyone, you may also be sabotaging God's plan. people give certain problems/ situations in their life because God gives it to them so they can grow wiser and better! why are you trying to save them? its not your responsibility.

💖 be okay with people misunderstanding you. if you have a goal or a dream in your life, NOT EVERYONE IS GOING TO UNDERSTAND YOU. people come from different households, religions, schools, etc. they will not understand you or have the same mindset/ heart as you. be OKAY with people not understanding you. they are not you.

"oh why did they hurt me/ treat me like that, i would never do that to them" honey, they're not you. they don't have the same personality or heart as you. if you're constantly gonna go through life thinking that everyone has the same heart as you, you will be hurt. i have done that so often thinking that i'm a good friend to them so they will do the same back, its not always true. you will be hurt. people are just different. and thats okay! let them be.

🕯realise that you can only change yourself. stop trying to change people. they will not change unless they are willing to. our human nature is comfort- humans love comfort. in order to change, it takes going through discomfort. it takes strength. some people are completely oblivious to themselves- they think that everything is perfect and nothing is wrong with them, etc. and yk what? let them be. you cannot change them. but you can change yourself. and if you do not want to change, you're not going to change. no one can force you to change unless you want to. by trying to change others and help them become their best version, you're wasting your energy to become YOUR best version and to create your dream life!

💖 stop needing people to validate your self worth. "i dont need anyone to tell me how good i am. i dont need anyone to tell me how beautiful i am or smart i am. because i see those qualities in myself already." KNOW who you are. if you get a compliment, say thankyou, be grateful. but don't crave it. be okay with not receiving it and not needing it because you already know that you're all that. if you need that compliment or words from other people, then they are basically in charge of you because their opinion can change your reality entirely and shake you. when YOU are the one that always creates your own reality! be strong in your ownself otherwise you'll be like their little puppet. know that you know what? im amazing. i've been through so much stuff in life but i'm still coming out strong and i'm still standing.

🕯treat yourself as your own best friend. talk to yourself! in her video, liz said that she talks to herself before bed and tells herself about her day. (for that i recommend videoing yourself! its so much fun) or when she's stressed she says to herself why are you feeling stressed? what exactly are you feeling? and then she tells herself and talks to herself. BE YOUR OWN BEST FRIEND. hype yourself up in your mind! comfort yourself, have a conversation, etc. give the advice to yourself. go on dates with yourself, hug yourself, love yourself.

💖 less chasing, more attracting. being feminine basically means letting it flow and go. being calm and at peace. being relaxed because you know that you attract all your blessings. when you're not desperately looking for things, or chasing after things, then your whole. your energy is whole. when the energy of desperation is gone, then you can attract everything you want into your life.

🕯only add great people to your life. make sure that whoever you date, are friends with, hang around- they need to add value to your life. its not only in terms of money, its also in terms of are you making me happy? are you reciprocating my energy? people that are always negative or always complaining, do not allow them into your life. do not be friends with people who are being miserable then complain about being miserable but don't do anything about it.

💖 stop seeking other people's permission to do whats best for you. you don't need someone to say "you can do it!" because you know you can. be independent- liz doesn't need to ask anyone for money because she is already making her own money. she is doing everything for herself. she has everything she need to support herself and people she loves.

like how cocky are you to think that you know be better than i know myself? lol. you have not been through what i have been through. you have not lived my life and yet you're here deciding whats good for me and what i should be doing? um, no thanks! xoxo.

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commonwealthcass · 1 year ago

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Greetings again

i was wondering how deep you got into the Fallout show and if so what do you think of it so far? since im a bit mixed, mostly due to me being a FNV fan and just weirded out by some decisions in the show, but what do you think, also how Cass would react to this new Ghoul, also wanted your opinion on Raul

Hey there! I’m actually a big Fallout NV fan myself and, tbh, I was very skeptical of the series when I first heard that it was in development. Video game adaptions don’t have the best track record and initial shots had a lot of people making speculations about sneak peeks we were given like Lucy visiting a town that some people thought looked like Megaton. I went into watching the show without any expectations and was pleasantly surprised at how faithfully they had tried to make it - it’s good for people who aren’t familiar to Fallout but also had enough nods that give us long-time fans a treat. I’ve had a couple friends say they were sharing the show with their parents and grandparents, which I think is pretty neat!

I think so long as you keep the mindset that this is its own thing. The last episode exceeded my expectations and I’m looking forward to the next season but I get it might not be everyone’s cup of tea. Still, I do think that the showrunners did do a good job of constructing something that feels like it would belong in the universe.

Raul was my buddy in NV and I loved his story arc. We find him pretty self deprecating and suffering from survivors guilt when we find him in Black Mountain. Getting him to open up about it and take on the vaquero outfit I felt was really rewarding. Probably the companion I traveled the most with besides Boone.

Also, I think Cooper would, in typical Cooper fashion, would definitely make a big impression for sure…

#fallout 4 #hancock #ghoul #cooper howard #ask #preacherofwishgranter

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madelynraemunson · 7 months ago

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CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

Chapter 002: Long Live the King

Isabelle is nowhere to be found. Meanwhile at the club, you gather up the courage to buy a Handsome Stranger a drink.

↳ 001 (PROLOGUE) // 002 // 003 // 004 // 005 // 006 // 007 EPILOGUE

CW: slight age gap (steve is 31, sweets is 23) , homoerotic steddie workout scene (just guys bein dudes) 😵‍💫🚨 drinking, smoking, gambling, drugs mentioned, shy girl makes one (1) unaliving joke, weight discussed briefly, this chapter contains scene/POV splits, each chapter will have its own warnings

card suits divider by @cafekitsune 🃏🧡

a/n: the hargroves own 'rock you like hurricane', do not try to change my mind.

“SHUT UP & PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS.”

word count: 5.6k words

♛

12:03 PM - Sweets and Isabelle

“There he goes again,” Isabelle sighs. “Long Live the King…”

It’s the sixth Elvis impersonator you’ve seen so far. Further down the strip of Old Vegas there was Jailhouse Rock Elvis, Unchained Melody Elvis, Elvis-If-You-Tried-To-Draw-Him-By-Memory, and Donuts-On-The-Toilet Elvis.

“I feel like I’ve seen every variant of The King possible,” you remark. “All that’s missing now is ShowGirl Elvis or Stripper Elvis.”

The statement alone piques your curiosity while you and Isabelle continue to walk. Suddenly, you find yourself asking your BFF a very interesting question.

“Would you ever wanna be a stripper?”

Isabelle stiffens abruptly.

It’s a pause you’ve never seen before in your life. But given that Isabelle has been an extreme empath for as long as you’ve known her, women in sex work may be a very sensitive topic.

“No,” Elle says to you, flatly. “They go through entirely too much.”

It’s the response you expected. It’s very easy for Isabelle to put herself in other people’s shoes — or heels in this sense. Even easier if they’re women at the hands of a man who holds a fair amount of power over them. It’s no wonder it seems triggering.

“It’s an admirable job though,” she manages to add. “Strippers don’t get enough credit. If I had a stripper in my life I would treat her like a queen.”

“Well, you'll have the chance to tonight," you smirk. "Given where we're going..."

Tonight you two are headed to Jackpot Gentlemen's Club, a strip joint on the outskirts of Vegas right outside Winchester.

It's more of a business endeavor than anything. The plan is to support all the beautiful dancers, all while promoting Isabelle's lingerie line, Bright & Belle.

For as long as you've known Isabelle, she's always been money-driven.

But in the best way. After divorcing from her ex-husband — Eddie, you believe his name was — Isabelle had been hyper-fixated on the hustle. And after seeing that ‘Girl-Boss’ mindset of hers flourish throughout the years, you wanted to be there for her in anyway you can.

What you haven't told Isabelle though, is that you wanted to feel sexy too. You’ve been deficient in Vitamin A(ttention) as of late, and a non-committal hook up in a "What Happens Here, Stays Here" type city sounded pretty enticing. A graduation reward and all.

"When was the last time you got laid?" Isabelle abruptly pries.

Piggybacking off your thoughts. How on-brand for the two of you.

You mask your thoughts further with a scoff of annoyance.

"Elle."

"Don't Elle me," she bumps you with her hip. "When was the last time you got a proper dicking down? Like really."

"I'm celibate," you lie snarkily.

"Oh come on!" she groans. "I know that's a lie. You know that's a lie. I mean, have you read the room? We are in Vegas."

You indeed have read the room. But that was besides the point. Isabelle has been so focused on creating a better life for herself, and she's done so much for you as well that you felt as if your presence at all times was mandated.

"I just don't wanna be all lovey-dovey in your face," you shamefully admit. "Especially since you're still healing from your own losses with love. Given your divorce from Eddie and all."

Isabelle rolls her eyes.

"Oh you mean the divorce that happened four years ago?!" she demands. "Almost five now, I think. Just because you're more likely to have a night to be celebrated and adored as a goddess, doesn't mean any of that is taken away from me."

You smile sheepishly at the floor, hooking your arms with Isabelle's as you two continue on your walk.

"Besides, I'm much older than you," she points out. "I've had my glory days. Now it's time for you to be selfish. Enjoy the rest of your 20s. What other place to do it than Vegas?"

She flashes a charming grin your way. "And I've got your back through and through."

"I love you," you beam at Isabelle tear-eyed. "You're the sister I never had."

“I love you too," she coos. "More than anything in the world. I'd be your non-biological sister in every lifetime if I could."

You two take a moment to fully admire each other, doing your little handshake you came up with when you met her in the early years of college, to honor your established sisterhood.

You and Isabelle against the world. No matter what.

Afterwards, Isabelle wraps you up in her arms as you two walk.

"Onwards, sweetheart. Let's go find you a King of your own.”

“I WANNA SEE YOU WORK OUT FOR ME. WORK OUT FOR ME.”

12:03 PM - Steve and Eddie

“Mmmh…fuck…shit.”

The room echoes with Steve’s strained grunts as sweat pools at his forehead.

It’s the workout of his life. But of course anyone would feel that way, running solely on coffee and a single scoop of creatine, right at peak lunchtime.

“Shit,” The King pants. "Don’t know how much left I got in me, Eds."

His pumps? Weaker. His reps? Gradually more incomplete. And with enough intensity to draw blood, Steve bites his lower lip in concentration, the grunting inevitably summoning Eddie over to his struggling friend.

The rugged metalhead leaps from the bar he was doing pull-ups from and strides towards the retired jock.

“You can handle it, Big Boy.”

Situating himself over Steve, Eddie floats his chalky palms over The King’s protruding chest, feet shoulder width apart and ready to spot.

“I…UGH— I…can’t!”

“Quit whining. I know you can.”

“I CAN’T! It’s too much…m literally shaking, Eds.”

“If you aren’t shaking you’re not doing it right,” Eddie Munson smirks. “Finish for me, Stevie, let’s go.”

The bulk of Steve’s arms relax and contract as The King pushes upwards, face scrunching in euphoric agony with every pump.

SLAM! CLINK!

Eddie's quick to swoop down to the base of the machine with one hand, reach extending to Steve with the other. Meanwhile Steve scrunches himself upwards, leaning forward on the bench as he wipes his forehead that was dripping with sweat. He's tapped out.

"You okay?" Eddie asks.

“Yeah..." Steve pants as he collects himself. "Yeah. I am. Thanks."

Steve takes a moment to look at himself in the high-rise glass mirror.

Naturally the arms come into sight first. There's a foreign roundness to them, and an undeniable softening of Steve's chest that the girls at Hellfire call "broad and beefy", but he can only categorize it as "fluffy". His gaze then dips down to his tummy, an avenue once firm and washboard-like now presenting with a soft, undeniable curve. No abs. Just flesh... a sobering manifestation of what too many nights of dry gin and "The Eddie Special": Spice Level Unforgiven can do to a guy. And while others might call it a “Certified Dad Bod,” Steve never found the compliment flattering. It just reminds him—he's getting older. Living on borrowed time.

"Holy shit," Steve breaks the silence. "I need to lay off the margaritas.”

“Well now isn’t the time to do it!” Eddie exclaims, clearly doing pirouettes on the opposite side of the pendulum. "Have you read the room? We're in Vegas, baby! We need to be excretion-less, out, and ready to party by tonight!"

Finding it nearly impossible to match his energy levels, Steve studies ‘Sweaty Eddie’ as he downs his water, the protrusion of his razor-burnt Adam’s Apple bobbing with every large gulp, the B.O. radiating off his hairy armpits being enough to wipe out the entire state of Nevada with just one brisk movement.

“Man, how did you manage to get married before me?” Steve huffs. “Twice!”

Eddie laughs, keeping the water contained in his mouth with a swipe of his fingers.

“Was that supposed to be a dig?”

“Well you weren’t exactly hot shit in high school.”

“There’s your answer then," Eddie clicks his tongue as-a-matter-of-factly. He does a boisterous dance around his burnt-out buddy. "Ladies love the freaks.”

Eddie studies Steve as he continues to ponder in a tone-deaf abyss.

“That's another thing I've been meaning to talk to you about," Eddie emphasizes. "We’ve gotta get you out of that high school mindset, dude."

Steve looks up again. "Huh?"

Eddie shakes his head. “It's beginning to look like you peaked when you were 18..." He takes a minute to playfully check him out. "Which obviously isn't the truth. But operating from that headspace is what’s stopping you from getting a good lay. I guarantee you."

"That or I just don't have rizz..." Steve grimaces. "Or whatever Dustin always says."

Eddie grimaces with him. He really wished Steve would quit saying that. Or anything from Dustin's vocab bank for the matter. "Yeah. Right. Let's keep that shit a Dustin thing."

He sets his water bottle down.

"Alright Harrington, here's the plan," Eds scoffs. "Tonight we'll put on our best Gatsy cosplays, get some drinks to loosen ya up, and then meander around Jackpot so you can talk up some babes. Work on the confidence...w-"

"Yeah, I think I'll pass," Steve shrugs. "I've got some emails I gotta reply to anyway."

“Oh come on. Think of all the honeys you’ll attract post-pump!” Eddie incentivizes. “Look at them ARMS, baby. Them ARMS!"

Eddie issues himself a seat next to Steve. Steve allows him the space, but doesn't appear to be sold on the plans Eddie had for tonight.

"Look, I'm sorry the girl of your dreams ended up with my bartender," Eddie begins. "And that I unintentionally stole your other dream girl when you guys began hitting it off pretty well... and that her best friend that you were madly in love with ended up being a lesbian and you didn't find out until after the two platonic outings. And that..."

"Are you trying to make me feel like absolute dog shit?"

"No, I'm turning this into an inspirational Ted Talk if you'd let me," Eddie scorns. "Fact of the matter is, Hawkins? Is Lover's Lake. WE..."

Eddie points in the opposite direction, south of The Strip.

"...have arrived at Treasure Island, baby! Lots of fish in the sea. Lots of beautiful women looking to have a good time. You can't make any progress in the same environment that drained you. You gotta lean into new beginnings. And maybe that means finding love in a city outside your comfort zone."

"Yeah, yeah. Just cuz I spawned into a new city doesn't guarantee complete past erasure," Steve mutters. "13 years later, but I'm still that same asshole ASB kid who gave others a hard time for validation. Maybe that's my karma. Maybe I don't deserve love."

"That's where you're wrong," Eddie snaps. "You ARE deserving of love."

It is that moment the two friends' eyes meet. It hurts Eddie to see Steve self-sabotage himself. He was so excited to come to Vegas with him and Shy Girl. Imposter Syndrome will ruthlessly make someone their bitch if they let it. Not today, though. Not under Eddie's watch.

"Your life is just beginning, Steve," Eddie emphasizes. "It pains me to see that you haven't seen your full potential yet. And just because this gentleman got his happy ending... doesn't mean there isn't one for you out there."

"Why do I always run?" Steve sighs. "Why do I always run away from good opportunities knowing full well I deserve to be happy too?"

"Because you're so used to rejection," Eddie snorts. "Believe me. Takes one to know one. You'll miss out on a lot of opportunity doing that. Which is something I'm not gonna let you do. For as long as you're under my wing."

The two friends then share an affectionate, and sweaty, hug. It took a lot of hashing out for these two to get to this point. They weren't exactly the best of friends in high school. But over time, when life reared its ugly head and all they had left was each other, the two gentlemen realized they were more alike than they thought. And that was a whole 'nother avenue of self-love they had to discover; and of course they did it side by side. Steve and Eddie forever.

“Whew, let’s go!” Steve whistles, getting out of his feelings for real this time. “We earned ourselves a Fat Tuesday!”

“Now we’re talkin’!” Eddie smirks. “Can't wait to hit the clubs and find you a hottie.”

"HERE I AM! ROCKED YOU LIKE A HURRICANE."

12:30 PM - Shy Girl and Nina

"If I can't find anything to wear, I'm gonna kill myself."

Shy Girl and Nina are found anxiously strutting around Fashion Show Mall, attempting to find some cute lingerie sets before their guest performances tonight.

"Bold of you to say for someone who looks good in everything," Nina scoffs.

The club they're performing at tonight is called Jackpot, a strip joint in the outskirts of Vegas right outside Winchester. It's no Hellfire, but the name of the game remains constant: CAPITALIZE OFF OF MEN'S DESIRES.

"I need something dramatic and sexy,” Shy Girl prowls. “Something Vegas has never seen before. Something to make me stand out for the tips. Something that screams... here I am."

"We can check Victoria's..." Nina suggests.

"Tried that. Eddie pretty much bought me every set from there."

"How about Love Loft on the second floor?"

"Their sets fit me weird. And I would like their wires to hold my titties up. Not puncture my lungs, thank you very much."

Spoiled with every piece of lingerie she could ever ask for, Shy Girl still had nothing to wear tonight.

It's expected coming from a dancer who has worn and done it all. Having rocked the city of Hawkins like a hurricane straight out of California, Shy Girl was just aching for some action elsewhere. And in light of her friend Steve's booming business over the past couple of years — and in celebration of her husband's early retirement from CEO-ism — why not bring the goodies to Vegas?

"What about this, Hargrove?"

"Ew. Too much glitter."

"Okay... this then?"

"Too little glitter."

"Bitch, if you don't just DECIDE!"

It's taken ages for Shy Girl to take up the amount of space that she does. And with this newfound confidence, there was no going back. During her time at Hellfire, Shy Girl had learned to become a goddess in her own skin, the baddest bitch who was deserving of the softest life; and there wasn't anything her controlling twin brother could ever do to change her mind. And even if he wanted to, he would have to get past those steel, metal bars first. Something that's remained unsuccessful for the past year and a half.

"It can't be too sparkly, but it also can't be too basic," Shy Girl notes aloud. “Something that hugs the girls just right, but isn’t too snug in the crotch area.”

Nina nods absentmindedly as they continue to patrol.

“Something that won’t cost an arm and a leg,” Shy Girl adds. “But also not something made by a child in a sweatshop.”

“Totally,” Nina hums.

They tread onward, having probably met their steps for the day, Shy Girl growing increasingly more agitated with every stride.

“I just want something that makes me look pretty, ethereal, and soul-snatching!" she grunts again. "Is that too much to ask?!”

“Something like that?”

Shy Girl turns in the direction of Nina's pointing finger. And in her field of view is the prettiest set she's ever seen.

"Are you kidding me?!" Shy Girl squeals in excitement.

Seductive and scarlet red. Tight, satin material embellished with extravagant-looking faux diamonds. The star of the set is the heart shape neckline, with showgirl-like frills at the hips that resemble an eternal flame.

Running to the display now, Shy Girl reaches over to fondle the set while Nina desperately sets off after her.

The set is more stunning the closer they got, with so much attention to detail, it was surely crafted by a girl's girl. Someone who knows what the people want and exactly how to get it. And also a woman who is calculated.

Lady in Red.

"It's even called Lady in Red, dude," Shy Girl beams, a prominent twinkle in her eyes. "This set is made for me. WHO IS THE MASTERMIND BEHIND THIS MONEY-MAKER? I could just kiss her."

“Hmm... Elle Warren," Nina reads. "CEO of Bright & Belle.”

Beside the set is a podium that show-cases the set's creator. She's smiling in her headshot, with a pink suit and her arms crossed, showing off her radiant smile, and even more radiant ocean eyes and Barbie-blonde locks.

"Every woman deserves to feel beautiful, bold, and UNSTOPPABLE. My mission is to empower women by turning pain into power. Bright & Belle is designed to celebrate all body types, all shades, and all sizes, offering a collection that makes every woman feel confident and comfortable in her own skin. I hope to become the rainbow after someone's storm, one sexy set at a time."

“Wow," Shy Girl coos. "She’s so pretty... and inspirational.”

“Biased much?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wh- look at her! Blonde curly hair? Piercing blue eyes, she looks just like you.”

“Maybe Billy and I have a triplet we just don’t know about,” Shy Girl theorizes, the conniving pearly-white Hargrove smirk reappearing on her face.

“Girl with the life you live, y’all might as well," Nina rolls her eyes. "Now c'mon. Let's go see what this club's all about. Bet it can't beat Hellfire."

9:00 pm - Sweets

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH A NIGHT OF SIN?"

“Now this… this is heaven.”

It appears that Jackpot is where the party is at. Isabelle's eyes light up with dollar signs when she observes the booths filled with patrons, stage badazzled with the sexiest dancers you both have ever seen, and a bar so full that there was hardly any room in the corners to wall-sit.

"Looks like we've got some impressions to make," Isabelle remarks. "That being said, I'll be in the powder room, if you'll excuse me."

You watch in disapproval as she issues a joking tap atop the tip of her nose. When she sees you scowling at her, Isabelle shrinks herself back down immediately.

"I'm joking, Sweets," she says. "I'm just going to the bathroom. You know that."

"With every joke there is a little truth," you mutter. "And you've been making a lot of blow jokes lately."

Isabelle was hooked on benzos and cocaine her first year of college. Granted, you both went to school in PULLMAN, the "hippie haven" of Washington State, so it didn't make her that much of an outlier.

But the abuse was heavy, most of it correlating with the abuse she endured in her marriage.

"Are you using again?" you accuse.

"No, honey."

"Then why'd you make a joke?"

"Because I thought it was funny. Stop looking so much into it."

You take a second to issue yourself some deep breaths. Noticing your distress, Isabelle gives you a consoling rub on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made that joke," she frowns. "I know how much you worry for me. But I'm clean. I promise."

"Okay," you mumble.

Friends don’t lie. And Isabelle has never given you any reason to doubt her. So why should you?

"I'll be back," she excuses herself again. "Just gonna go use the lil Big Sisters’ room. We'll be shaking ass with the strippers before you know it."

You snort to yourself as she scampers out of your sight. Now it’s just you alone with your thoughts and yearning.

Isabelle's speech from earlier echoes through your ears once again. It's time for you to enjoy your 20s. College is over and you can finally let loose. So why did you feel guilty, wanting to roam free during Isabelle’s most pivotal moment instead of supporting her? You two have been joined at the hip for so long, it felt unnatural to exclude her from things. You wanted to do everything with your “big sister”.

"Alriiiight, ladies and gentlemen," the DJ announces as he transitions his performance track to a familiar 80s song. "Thank you so much for coming and supporting all of these beautiful dancers!”

The crowd erupts in rampant cheers and whistles. You clap along too, while scanning the room for a nice guy to talk up.

“We have a special treat for you tonight,” the DJ continues. “We’ve got some dancers from out of state, so give them a warm Las Vegas welcome…”

Your gaze piques in curiosity as the R&B track fades into a guitar riff, soon to be melted into a very familiar song from the 80s, critically acclaimed by people who lived on the edge of Sexy and Wild.

“…All the way from Hawkins, Indiana…” says the DJ. “…from the HELLFIRE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB...GIVE IT UP... FOR SHYYYY GIRLLLLL!"

The music now blares through the speakers as one of the dancers makes her grand entrance. And soon a specific corner of the room erupts in a frenzy the moment she fully emerges onto the stage.

"Here I am! Rocked you like a hurricane."

And she is a smokin' hot hurricane if you ever did see one.

You fawn over the stripper’s captivating eye make-up. Her bouncy, golden blonde hair with just as bouncy, perky, tits. And the ass on this chick? That thing’s got a zip code and a mind of its own. Just look at it go.

Everyone cheers, specifically two people in the corner, presumably her hometown peeps who flew out to see her perform. There's a girl with long, dark hair, and given her attire, you presume she's a performer too. There's also a man next to her, also with long hair and is most likely her partner, hooting and hollering as if he wasn't even allowed to hoot and holler at home, handing everyone around him some shots while he praised every move she made.

“What a fucking badass,” you say to yourself. "She's got the crowd by the horns."

And that captivating red set. It suits this ‘Shy Girl’ so well it almost makes you tear up. It is then not too long after that you realize you’ve seen this set before.

It’s one of Isabelle’s sets. One of your best friend’s creations. The Lady in Red.

"That's my wife!" the Van Halen-looking guy boasts proudly. "THAT'S MY WIFE! Doing amazing, baby!"

Your suspicions were correct. Shy Girl is that man’s wife. And what a lucky man he is. Urgently grabbing your phone, you go to shoot Isabelle a text about the dancer wearing her set.

to: Isabelle Warren

Girl come quick! A dancer on stage is wearing Lady in Red! She's really good!

Enamored, you watch as Shy Girl swoops down to her knees on the left side of the tip rail. She blows the bar a kiss. When your eyes follow in that direction, you see a — very attractive — man who seems to be part of that same group, judging by how they interacted with one another from across the room.

There's a glimmer, a familiar pining in his fiery, molten eyes as he leans back against the barstool, admiring the dancer from head to toe. When they meet gazes, Shy Girl winks at him and struts away.

The exchange draws you to reach two conclusions: the man is either secretly in love with this chick, or they've been friends for a really long time.

Suits was about to be deeply infatuated with you, though. With your sudden boost of confidence to want to approach him tonight.

Without another lingering thought, you strut over to the bar to greet the older piece of eye candy with your signature, warm grin.

"Hi there.”

But his reaction is the least of what you expected.

"Oh god," the gentleman sighs. "Did he send you to me?"

Confused, you take a look around.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Oh cut the crap, kid, I've seen it all before,” the man scoffs pessimistically. “What'd he promise you? Huh? Tickets to see Adele or Blue Boys? Free rounds of shots?”

"He didn't promise me anything," you huff in protest. "God forbid I actually wanna talk to somebody on a night out. Is this a trauma response because if so, this needs to be visited. In therapy, perhaps. Not a bar."

The ego — or lack of — of the guy seemingly deflates, a flushed red color appearing at the heat of his cheekbones before radiating to his ears.

"You mean you willingly came up to me?" he continues to stare in disbelief.

"Yes..." you narrow your eyes at the Pick-Me-Nice-Guy in front of you. "But something tells me I shouldn't have."

His gaze softens even more. It's apologetic now.

"It's not every day I get approached anymore," he says. "Usually I'm the one that does the chasing."

"Well, why not?" you shrug, deflating your ego along with him as well. "You're handsome, young, look like a fun time... How can the ladies not?"

It catches him off guard.

"Young," he laughs at this. "How old are you anyways?"

"23," you gaze at him through your eyelashes. "How old are you?"

"I'm 31, cutie."

You can feel your heart beating in more places than one. And when your eyes travel down to his lap, you're greeted by a warm and open manspread, the base of his knees angled towards your body, the same way his broad torso invites you into him.

You accept his advance.

"Oh come on," you blush. "That's not even that much older."

"Not that much older? Just you wait," he says with a slight chuckle. Your breath hitches his knee brushes against your ass. "Soon you can't drink the way you used to, your knees hurt, and you wake up ten pounds heavier than the day before. Trust me, I know."

"Rich coming from someone who's a few years removed from my generation."

And rich, judging by the intoxicating cologne that clung to his skin like a second layer. Rich, judging by the perfectly pressed, popped collar of his Maceoo dress shirt. Rich, judging by his wait-list only watch that rested neatly on his wrist, catching the glare from the strobe lights every so often.

"You're kidding," he snaps you back to reality. "You're really Gen Z?"

"Yeah, can't you tell?" you tsk. You watch as his pupils drastically increase in size the more you sway into him. "I'm part of the knows-what-they-want-and-gets-it type of crowd."

You nod to the bartender to start a tab for you. Playing it safe, you request two gin-and-tonics, offering a glance to the now more-than-receptive man in front of you.

"Can't relate," he breathes. "'m a millenial."

"Ah, the hate-my-life crowd."

"Better than the hate-my-wife crowd” he winks, subtly jabbing at the ever-so-argumentative Generation-X.

"Oh definitely," you agree, clinking your glass with his. "And I can tell by your friends you guys are the total opposite."

Both of you look back over at the his friends, and to your surprise, discover that the group is staring back at you as well. Group being the Shy Girl dancer's husband and the dark-haired dancer beside him. When your eyes meet theirs they immediately look away, but sheepishly smile to each other along with "do you see this?" type of nudges.

"So what's your deal?" you smirk, turning back to the guy. "You seeing anybody?"

"If I was, I wouldn't be here talking to you, honey," Suits smirks, his espresso eyes devouring you while his palm hovers over the small of your back. "I’m really sorry we got off the wrong foot. I’m Steve.”

You tell him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Steve.”

“You as well, Sweets.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I own my own business,” Steve smiles. “Been doing it a couple years now, and it’s really taken off.”

“What business is it?”

“I sell bobby pins,” Steve explains. It confuses you at first but you remain supportive. “But they’re a special kind.”

Intrigued, you watch as Steve digs into his pocket to fetch you some samples.

“My buddy Eddie over there owns a strip club,” Steve explains, nodding towards the feral, long-haired guy over in the corner. “And unfortunately one too many dancers have gotten roofied, so I made bobby pins that change color when it senses something weird in your drink.”

"Do they now?"

"They sure do," Steve nods proudly. "The bobby pins turn black if they detect the roofie drug. So if you think your drink's been spiked, that's a foolproof way for ya to check."

“This is very neat,” you beam, holding the pretty pink bobby pin in your hand.

You’re twiddling it between your fingers when you notice Steve’s breathing falter. He clears his throat for a brief second, before resting his hand slightly over yours.

“May I?”

You nod and allow him his bobby pin back.

There's little you can do except try not to melt, quietly swooning as the older man you're perched on gazes at you like a muse. His touch is gentle, as if you're a marble bust—his fingers brushing away the shorter strands of your curtain bangs, savoring the dimples above your chin.

“There,” he grins. “Now I can see those pretty eyes.”

You and Steve find yourselves getting lost into conversation, well past Shy Girl's set, and most likely way past her friend's as well. He tells you about his life back home and you tell him about your final year of college. The gloominess of Seattle. Your excitement about being able to start a new life. And when you reach to give him back his bobby pin, he gestures it away.

"Consider it a gift. If I won't be seeing you again, I'd at least want you to be safe."

“Who’s to say you won’t see me again?”

"Well," Steve chuckles into you. "Maybe you'll find some other sucker to charm and you'll forget all about me."

Closing up the space between you two, you shuffle yourself closer in between his knees, rubbing yourself teasingly against his iron-pressed lap while he wraps his strong arms around you to keep you in place.

“Oh don’t be so silly,” you hum, softly tracing his stubble before clasping his beating chest. “You’ll definitely be seeing me around.”

"You trying to give me your phone number?" he cocks an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I mean... I was implying that you’d see me walking around The Strip. Vegas is pretty small,” you point out. “But if you’d like to stay connected, I’m not opposed to that either.”

Steve tongue dances in his cheek as he stares you up and down.

"Or who knows," you add. "Maybe you'll see me at an Adele show."

Steve cackles at this, receptive to the teasing you're giving him and reeling you in as a response.

“Well, Sweets, if that's the case, then I’d love to see you again before I go back.”

You two exchange phone numbers, close out your tab, and Steve is on his way. Turns out, he's also part of the In-Bed-By-9 crowd, but tonight was considered a splurge. When he disappears from sight, you set out to find Isabelle.

Luckily, her golden blonde locks are easy to spot in the crowd.

“There you are!" you exclaim when you find her, hooking arms with her as you two start towards the tip rail. "I met a guy while you were gone. His name is Steve, he’s a CEO.”

“Such a CEO name,” Isabelle tuts. “But that’s amazing. Is he older?”

You nod, blushing. Isabelle squeals, ecstatic for you.

“Ugh, older men are the bestttt, girl. Where is he now?”

“Rounding up his friends," your eyes scan the room. "I think they’re done for tonight. His friend was one of the dancers and she was wearing your Lady in Red set. She's from Indiana too, but I forgot where.”

“And I missed it?!" Isabelle exclaims, completely engaged now. "Now you HAVE to point them out to me.”

So now you two are on a mission, peddling through the strip club like two lost sheep looking for their herder. After five sweaty drunks and lots of assertive "excuse me"s later, you're able to catch sight of the guy just by the back of his head.

“That’s Steve," you immediately point him out. "Right over there."

“Oh my god,” is all Isabelle says.

You turn to Elle and it's like she's seen a ghost. Panicked, you watch the color drain from your best friend's face in real time, followed by a nearly audible gulp in a pulsating room and obnoxious strobe lights. And for a brief second, it seems like Elle had nearly lost her footing, with how her knees seemingly buckled below her.

“Elle…" you nudge her. "A-are you okay?”

"Yeah… I'm fine...it’s just…” she stammers. “That's Steve Harrington."

"You know Steve Harrington?"

"More than you know."

Suddenly, her gaze shifts when she studies his friends.

It’s a look you’ve never seen before in your life. At least not on Isabelle’s face.

Her once radiant ocean eyes, so full of warmth and sunshine, have turned icy and sharp, like shards of broken glass. A tension builds in her face as her jaw clenches. You look down at her hands and see that they're curled inwards, as though she'd been fighting to keep a brewing anger from the depths of her, relatively silent, fury from erupting. And then, before you know it her ocean eyes flare with an almost palpable heat. Danger. Fire, almost.

"And the guy next to him?" Isabelle grimaces. "The erratic one with the stripper around his arm?"

Isabelle's lips tighten bitterly.

"That's Eddie Munson... my ex-husband."

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rachxhjs · 7 months ago

Text

Claiming you.

✧ A story where Soobin feels unwanted by his boyfriend because he had been away for a while. As soon as Yeonjun hears about this he's determined to change his lover's mindset.

♡

Requested by, anon ♡

Yeonjun x Soobin

✧ Tags;

Breeding kink, size kink, praise kink, edge play, bottom!soobin, top!yeonjun, smut, fluff

✧

"Honey, I told you it was just a trip.. nothing more than just a few days being away from each other. Just because I was gone it doesn't mean I don't want you anymore."

Soobin exhaled as he wrapped his arms around his cold legs, cheek mashed against his knee. It had been about two weeks since he had seen his boyfriend, and it affected him more than he thought it would.

Yeonjun's boss had told him that he, and a few other co-workers had to go to Las Vegas to settle a deal with a company that had reached out to them. And at first Soobin was over the moon, he was so proud of his boyfriend that he got to participate in such a big event, that the boss chose him as one of the best workers to handle such a job. But as the days passed it had only become worse and worse for him. It wasn't just that Yeonjun wasn't next to him. It was also because Yeonjun could barely go on his phone, and whenever he could Soobin would be asleep because of the time difference. It was horrible, and it felt like he didn't get to have a proper conversation with his lover in months.

"Baby.." Yeonjun called out again once his boyfriend didn't reply, sitting down next to him on their silk covered bed, bringing his hand up to caress his lover's cheek. "I'm sorry, yes? I didn't know it would be so.. how do I say this? So.. abstract? I expected to text you every day, to call you. But that didn't happen and I apologise.. you must have been lonely."

Soobin inhaled as he simply hugged his legs closer to his body, looking to the side with tear filled eyes, feeling more emotional than ever. Yeonjun finally returned from his trip, and he should've been happy. But he wasn't, it was the opposite, and he hated that.

"You don't want me anymore.."

"What?"

A moment of silence filled the room as Yeonjun stopped in his tracks, the hand that was brushing over his boyfriend's face froze in the air, hesitantly, and slowly pulling away.

"Soobin, don't say that." The older instantly scolded, furrowing his brows. "It was just a trip, and the time stamps were flipped around. There wasn't much I could do, I was busy. But hey.. maybe I'll get a higher position. And I'm here now, you should be happy."

Meanwhile Soobin just sniffed softly, covering his eyes to prevent himself from embarrassing himself in front of the shorter, it was embarrassing. Yeonjun was right, he should've been happy. But those two weeks of not hearing Yeonjun's voice made him feel a dark pitch in his stomach and heart. He was so used to being held to sleep every night that it felt rather damaging when it wasn't like that. He was so used to it. "I know.. but.. you haven't even touched me or shown any sign of you missing me when you came back.. hurts. I missed you, but you didn't miss me."

"Is that what this is about?"

Yeonjun inhaled as he carefully held Soobin's hand, kissing the corner of his lips before he laid the taller down, thinking. "Sweetheart. Of course I missed you, you're my everything. Looked at your pictures every night.. and I do need you, you're all I can think about." The male carefully hovered on top of his boyfriend as he gave him a warm, reassuring smile. Leaning in to kiss away the cold, sticky tears from Soobin's face, humming lowly. "You want to know how much I missed you?"

"Mhm.." Soobin shivered slightly when his lover kissed his delicate skin, hips already starting to buck up. Maybe this was just what he needed, an orgasm to forget about everything, to see how badly Yeonjun wanted him. "I want you to show me.. how badly you want me.. 'need it." He whispered, squirming under his boyfriend before Yeonjun pinned him down by his hips, nodding. "Okay baby.. I'm going to need you to relax for me then, hm? Let me do all the work.."

And before Soobin knew it, Yeonjun was stripping off all his clothes, leaving him completely naked and tracing down each curve of his body carefully, eyes full of love. "There we go.. my poor baby. You missed this, didn't you? I bet you jerked off whispering my name.. god. If only I could've seen you like that.." Yeonjun inhaled sharply as he thought about his lover pumping his own member needily, mouth agape while his tiny teeth poked out. It was one of his favourite things about Soobin, the way he resembled a bunny. And honestly, it wasn't just his features that reminded him of a bunny, but also the way he bounced on dick whenever he was needy, he always looked so cute when in heat.

"Yes.." Soobin's eyes squinted as his pupils followed each movement Yeonjun made, breathing rather loudly. He was getting so hot that his skin started to radiate heat like a furnace, cheeks red. "You took.. so long.. I was so alone, had to take care of myself.."

"Poor bunny." Yeonjun grinned a bit as he started to take off his own clothes in a slow manner, wanting to tease the other in each way possible. "But you did so good.. you're such a good boy for me. Did you think of me baby? Were you good?"

"Yes.." Soobin panted out again, mouth agape as his hips jerked up in need, wanting to get any sort of friction. But he knew that if he touched himself Yeonjun would scold him. Plus, the older had promised to take care of him, and he trusted him. "Watched old videos of us.. videos you sent me.. listened to your audios, your grunts. Imagined you were there with me.."

"Go on.. you're doing so good.. Keep talking." Yeonjun praised lowly, listening to his boyfriend while he tossed away his clothes. And then, he leaned down to press a dozen of kisses around his lover's thighs, humming softly against his soft skin and inhaling his boyfriend's scent, eyes closed. "Used a dildo.. bounced on it and listened to your voice, closed my eyes.. it felt so real. I needed you.. so bad.."

"I know.." The older inhaled sharply as he pulled away, sitting down on the floor of the end of their shared bed before he pulled his lover towards him by his legs, nose nuzzling into his balls. "But I'm here now.. and you did so.. so good. I'm so proud of you.. the best boy, hm?"

Soobin shivered when he felt Yeonjun's mouth being so close to his crotch, nodding and letting out a quiet cry as his hips jerked into him, trying to force himself inside of the male's mouth. But Yeonjun stopped him, wrapping his arms around the taller's legs. "Do you need me to tie you up? I thought you'd be good, baby. You don't want to be praised?"

"M' sorry.. I'll be good.." Soobin instantly stayed still as Yeonjun continued to kiss his thighs, member twitching in the air. "But you're teasing me.. I've been wanting this for a while and you're.. teasing me.." He protested, chest rising up and down as his doe eyes stared up at the ceiling, aching for more.

"I know, baby. But I want to savour this.. to enjoy this moment. Let me have this, hm? Won't you please hyung?" Yeonjun whispered, watching the way his boyfriend started to whine into his pillow, salivating against the silky white material. "Just like that love.. just stay still and look pretty for me, hm? Doing so good."

Soobin whimpered softly as he squirmed his hips slightly, starting to gasp into the sheets before he suddenly felt a cold sensation against his entrance, making him whine louder. Yeonjun had started to lubricate his entrance carefully, spurting the cold gel against his hole before he rubbed it in with his thumb, blowing softly as well to make the warm area tingle. "The better you are for me the quicker you'll get your release." The older promised, nuzzling into his thigh as he slowly pressed one finger inside of the younger's walls, rubbing and feeling against his prostate.

And soon enough, Soobin started to moan more loudly, back arching towards the ceiling as his legs started to shake, mouth agape. "Need it.. need it.. more.." He whimpered, walls clamping around Yeonjun's finger out of desperation. And soon enough, he felt another finger enter him, making him see stars.

"Shh.. be good and you'll get more. I've told you before.." Yeonjun bit his bottom lip as he started to pump his middle, and index finger into the younger, watching his chest rise up and down as he did his best hitting and rubbing into his boyfriend's gummy spots, eyebrow furrowed in focus. "There you go.."

Soobin's hands gripped onto the warm sheets under him as his mouth stayed open, eyes barely staying open as he finally felt what he had been aching for for days. He knew what Yeonjun said was true, so he did his best to be as good as possible, not moving too much and simply letting the male take care of him so he could have more, whimpering out of satisfaction. And before he knew it, a third finger entered his body, making his cock leak even more precum, dripping down to his abdomen.

"That's my good boy.. doing so good. I'm so proud of you.." Yeonjun whispered against Soobin's thigh, sucking some purple spots onto the skin as he slammed his palm against Soobin's ass, fingers pounding in and out of his walls. But as soon as he heard his boyfriend's voice getting higher and his walls tugging onto him harder he pulled away, watching how Soobin's entrance instantly gaped around nothing, length twitching needily.

When Soobin felt the sudden stop of friction he let out a soft cry, propping himself up onto his forearms so he could look down at his boyfriend, cheeks strained in tears of pleasure. "Wha.. where.. Yeonjun?" The male panted loudly as his member continued to throb, needing to release. But he couldn't, there wasn't any friction that would make him cum. "Shh.." Yeonjun smiled as he climbed on top of his boyfriend, sushing him warmly and rubbing his cock against his entrance, humming at the warm sensation. "So needy.."

"Cock.." Soobin instantly gasped, looking up at his boyfriend when the older pressed their foreheads together, feeling his stomach turn multiple times. There was something about the way Yeonjun stared at him that made him feel small and weak, but in the best way possible. It almost seemed like the older was seeing right through him, taking in his soul with his fierce gaze. But Soobin was soon distracted when he felt Yeonjun's hips harshly slam against him once, crying out loudly while the older let out a loud moan, keeping his boyfriend pressed against him.

"Can't.. I can't- it's too.. big.." Soobin whimpered, letting out quiet whines as Yeonjun carefully rolled himself against the male, wanting to get as deep as possible. "You can.. you've been good this entire time. Why not now? Hm? Look at that.." Yeonjun bit his bottom lip as he looked down at their bodies colliding, letting out a hiss when he noticed the obvious bulge in Soobin's stomach, eyebrows furrowed. "Fuck, baby.."

Soobin winced softly when he felt Yeonjun rub over the bulge, squirming his hips slightly as his mouth stayed agape, gasping needily. "I can't.." He repeated again. But Yeonjun simply pressed his hand against Soobin's mouth, sushing him once more. "You can.. you're taking it so well, love. Be good for me.." Yeonjun inhaled sharply as he pulled his member out, eyes flickering up at his boyfriend every now and then to check on his state before he laid his cock flat against the younger's stomach, watching how his tip reached all the way to his belly button. "It's just like that on the inside as well.. God. That's so fucking hot.."

Soobin stared down at the way Yeonjun compared his size to his stomach as he panted quietly, eager to feel his boyfriend again. "You're so tiny compared to my cock.. can you imagine? Me going in and out of you like this.. so deep. I'm filling you up so good." The older whispered lowly, grabbing his length again before he pressed it against his boyfriend once more. And then, he pulled Soobin towards him by his hips, manhandling him onto his dick. And slowly, he moved the male back and forth, watching how his stomach bulged each time, showing clearly how well he was fucking into the younger.

"Yeonjun-" Soobin cried out as he was moved onto his shaft, arms trembling before his back fell onto the mattress, arms laying flat. "Big.."

"I know.. you're doing so good.. look.. you're taking me so well." The older praised, letting out grunt as he kept Soobin's hips up, moving his boyfriend like a flesh light before he finally let his butt sink down on the mattress, focused. "I'm going to breed you.. going to give you all my babies.." Yeonjun growled as Soobin simply whined, feeling his stomach flutter. And soon enough, Yeonjun started to thrust his hips back and forth, watching how his boyfriend's delicate body moved up and down on the sheets. "Fucking shit.. you'll take them so well.. would be such a pretty daddy.."

Soobin let out a whimper whenever he felt Yeonjun hit the best spots inside of him, voice high and needy as he was fucked into like a toy, mouth open. Due to his boyfriend's big size he felt like he was filled to the brim, as if a thick brick was moving in and out of his body and leaving no room for air. But he loved it, he loved how good Yeonjun made him feel and how he reassured him so much. Sex with him was the best. "I'm going to cum.." The taller whined out, stomach continuing to bulge as Yeonjun rocked his hips back and forth, fingers piercing into his lover's skin. Though he didn't reply, being too focused on listening to Soobin's voice, wanting to hear his orgasm near. And once the male was on the verge of finishing, Yeonjun pulled out again, panting.

Just like before, Soobin let out a cry as his member continued to throb, leaking even more precum while his boyfriend flipped him onto his side, pressing his legs together. "Good boy.. almost. Doing so well, you'll feel so good.." The older whispered, spanking his ass hard once before he pushed himself into his entrance once more, grunting.

Soobin looked down at his member as it laid rock hard against his stomach, gazing down at the way he kept bulging and how he constantly leaked precum, moaning against the sheets loudly. "Good.. almost. Do you want me to breed you, hm? I'll give you.. everything. Fuck. You'll take it so well.. going to make sure you won't miss a drop.." The older murmured, biting his bottom lip as he pounded himself against Soobin's ass, balls slapping against his skin, hard, making the impact even more intense. And before he knew it, Yeonjun was cumming, hard. Pressing himself against his boyfriend as aggressively as possible so he could get as deep as he could, cumming in harsh, long and aggressive spurts. "Fuck-" Yeonjun growled, letting out a whine as well. "All of it.. take all of it.. you'll be.. having my babies.." The older whimpered, digging himself into Soobin's neck where he inhaled his scent and bit onto the skin, moaning as well.

And just like Yeonjun, Soobin came as well. Letting out cries of pleasure as he stained the sheets in thick strokes of white. It was much more than he thought it would be, but that was probably because he held it in for so long. And just like always, Yeonjun was right. Everything felt so much better like this.

After a few minutes of calming down Yeonjun wiped his forehead, taking his member and pulling it out carefully before he tilted Soobin's hips up so no cum would leave him, panting. "Stay like that.." he ordered in a tired, raspy tone. Grabbing one of Soobin's butt plugs and inserting it carefully, grinning at the sight. "Perfect.. you've got it all.. didn't miss a drop. Good boy.. you did so good today.." Soobin simply panted as his boyfriend laid down next to him, pulling him to his chest so he could listen to his heartbeat, gently stroking his hair.

"I'm so proud of you.. did so good, as always. Don't say that I don't want you ever again, hm? I love you so much.." Yeonjun whispered, kissing his lips.

Soobin breathed calmly against his boyfriend's chest as he smiled a bit to his words, humming. "I love you more.. thank you. I needed that.. didn't expect to be so grumpy.." He told honestly, rubbing his eyes a bit before he nuzzled more into the older's warm skin, starting to calm down his breathing. Meanwhile Yeonjun just hummed softly, playing with his hair, eyes full of love. He wished that Soobin would never feel like that again, because he did truly love him. Maybe he just didn't show it in the right ways. Or maybe his boyfriend was just sexually frustrated. But honestly, the cause of it wasn't too important to him at the moment. Right now he was focused on showing Soobin how much he truly did mean to him, rubbing over his waist. "And that's okay.. we've solved it now, hm? And I'm on break.. I'll be all yours for two weeks. Next time don't jump to conclusions yes? Just tell me how you feel and we'll fix it.. my everything."

Soobin hummed quietly as he breathed slowly, closing his eyes. He felt so comforted whenever he was with his boyfriend. And after such an intense orgasm he got really tired. So it was understandable that he fell asleep against Yeonjun's chest within a minute of them talking. It was actually cute, Yeonjun loved it. He loved how he was such a safe place for his lover. And hopefully, he could be that for the rest of Soobin's life.

♡

To, anon

I hope you enjoyed it and that it fit your expectations. And thank you so much for being my first submission, I enjoyed making this 😚

To, readers

Thank you so much for reading, and as a reminder my submissions are open if you'd like one of these as well. Have a great day, stay hydrated and remember that you're loved.

Thank you!

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