#but eventually i was thought it was lame to share too many interests with my older sib in particular

[spacedkey]

tought abt the funny little doctor too much and now my brain gurt

[spookberry]

Shadow High series 3 my new beloved

I didnt even like most of em until i saw them in person, but the knowledge that they'll probably never be in the show has my brain in a "well its free realestate" kinda mood

Random list of information cuz ive been plotting out friend dynamics and background lore

-i like to pretend Rainbow High/Shadow High are actually Rainbow University/Shadow University cuz im in art college Right Now and i think it makes more sense with the whole dorm room situation. And also major makes more sense than focus IMO

-I changed Pinkie's major from film to just undeclared. I think she eventually does land on Film. She just has a lot of interests! Her dream has always been to one day direct films, and I think she comes to love them even more while developing ideas her with the group as she winds up in a Director/Producer position for most of them. BUT also every time she takes a class in a different program she cant help but fall in love with that way of making art too. So she has a hard time picking for a while and changed her major a couple times before landing on Film.

-Pinkie and Berrie bond a lot over a shared interest in vocal synths (tho Berrie knows more about them than her).

-The two made Pinkie's vtuber model together!

-the fandom wiki says PJ is from germany?? Idk how canon that is tbh but ive decided to embrace it i guess

-Rooney's canon name is Scarlet Rose, but i thought it was kinda lame especially when Rosie Redwood is also in this line sooo I renamed her! Stuck to the color name puns tho. Mar Rooney. Maroon. Haha

-Speaking on her though i love that shes from texas and likes writing scifi mystery type stuff and that being said i just Know deep in my bones that she was a Voltron Legendary Defender fan and Keith was/is 100% her favorite. She has a continued fondness for mothman specifically cuz of this.

-PJ and Rooney actually talk about fandom and shows/movies ALL the time. They dont have a ton of overlapping interests, but where they do? The two literally never shut up.

-Rosie is such a random character, like outside of her design she feels very poorly considered. So I scrapped the cosmetology thing and made her an illustrator instead! I think it works better with her love of making art in nature. I can see her being really into illustrated guide books. I think shes a bit snooty when it comes to art too. It takes being friends with other artists to become more open minded.

-I like the idea that Rosie is mainly friends with Rooney and Berrie ontop of that. The three of them often tag team storylines and how theyd interpret them into different mediums. Rosie will draw up a bunch of concept stuff while Rooney writes up a pitch bible and Berrie will start making shit move and throwing in her own ideas on camera angles and character designs.

-as an animation major Berrie was required to take a sound design class early on, which is where she met Oliver! Hes very laid back, and likes to go with the flow, but functions a little like the "mom" of the group. Often reminding the girls to take breaks, drink water, stop looking at their screens lest they get eye strain etc. He's multi-talented tbh but Music is his one true passion and he likes how the girls are always giving him collaboration opportunities.

-Oliver and Rosie like to talk sports a lot, both having played a bunch when they were younger and throughout high school.

-Lavender Lynn is Oliver's number one "person who needs constant reminders to settle down" she is in a constant buzz of trying to get the best shots and is utterly obsessed with the process of artistic documentation. Everything must be documented.

-the whole school loves her for this actually, she has a whole side gig where other students hire her to help photograph their projects. She saves everything she earns from this for her future dream plans to visit paris. She has it set really, many of the artists who she helps photograph now will remain steadfast clients of hers forever onward.

-PJ and Lynn actually took a print media class together at one point. Which didnt at the time spark an everlasting friendship. But it did give PJ an easier in to ask for Lynn's help documenting a project the group was working on. One of Lynn's first times photographing them work happened to fall on a day where Rosie had planned to trick everyone into going on a nature walk sans devices... Lynn wound up really appreciating this outing and decided to continue hanging around the group even after that project had ended.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not texting my friend?

To be clear I have no intention of cutting off this person, I will not block or ghost them, and if they text me I WILL answer and not be dry or lame about it.

I just won't be the one to start any conversations.

Moving on:

The story is super complicated but I'll try to keep it coherent.

Three people in the story (fake names):

Me (20)

Alex (16) - friend

Luck (16) - younger sibling We are all the same gender.

Something to keep in mind about me: I have always been very sheltered, naive and distracted, people have told me so and the more I learn the more I realize how ignorant I am. So I have very little experience, perception and knowledge of worldly things. This makes it difficult for me to keep up with people my age and I spend most of my focus on stories I like to write. It's not an excuse for anything and I'm actively working to be better.

Something that doesn't contribute much to the story but may be nice to know: Pretty much everything happens online, I've only met Alex in person like 4 times for birthday parties and stuff.

Now the story: I met Alex three years ago during covid when I was doing school online (I was 17 and Alex and Luck were 13). I was introduced to Alex through my younger sibling. Luck added me to a group chat with a bunch of their classmates, and I got popular really fast. Alex took a particular liking to me, because they thought i was funny and we had many of the same hobbies. So Alex was the first of Luck's friends to start a chat with me directly. Alex was always online and so was I, so we ended up talking alot, like all the time. I noticed Luck got kind of jealous, and that was when I began to wonder if the friendship was right, but I did nothing about it.

Eventually Alex and I started writing a story together, it's something I try to do with all of my close friends and we got really into it. A big rule that I have is that the real world and fiction are separate, under no circumstances are they to entertwine, especially emotionally (ex. I have never and will never insert myself in a story or daydream, not even if reality sucks for me at that time) Alex was different, they got attached to the characters. So there I am, obsessed with progressing the story's plot, and I kill off one of my characters. Alex expresses discontent, but not much. It's through Luck that I find out later that Alex had been crying about it for days. I felt bad and brought the character back, and life went on.

A year and a half into our friendship and Luck seems to have gotten over her jealousy, while Alex and I spend more time writing and focusing on the story than anything else. There are some signs in the rare times that Alex and I talk about life that it become apparent that Alex is going through a rough time, but I don't think too much about it since the story is all that's on my mind. On top of this there's school and whatever.

One day Alex starts asking for breaks from story writing and plotting, and I agree without a fuss. It gets me thinking a bit more, and after a couple more days during a conversation about the real world Alex sends a long paragraph about how horrible things are. (I won't explain what exactly these horrible things were for privacy reasons) Now I realize how inconsiderate I've been so far and I tell Alex that I'm there to support them in whatever they need. I spend pretty much all of the next year texting them every hour of every day and this is what happens:

At the beginning of our friendship our conversations flowed wonderfully, we shared our achievements and showed genuine interest in each other's lives. But things changed and by this point In the story our conversations go like so:

Me: (asks a question) Alex: (responds) Me: (reacts to response) Alex: (dry response) -Repeat infinitely-

Aside from that we would always say goodnight and Goodmorning to each other.

One time. Only one. Alex texted me asking for help and I didn't see the message until hours later. I never really forgave myself for that.

At this point I'm 19 and Alex is 15, and it suddenly crosses my mind how our friendship might be perceived by others. I considered Alex another younger sibling, but with all the crazy things happening in the world I wondered what others would think. In the end I concluded that Alex needed me and it didn't matter. So life goes on. My entire life revolves around helping Alex, when I'm not texting them I am worrying, my own problems come second. My whole family thinks I'm addicted to my phone. I'm always tired and stressed. The stories were put on pause.

Time passes and soon I'm turning twenty. I'm starting to think I can't do it anymore, our friendship has turned kind of codependent (I didn't even know what that was until a month ago). I consider ghosting many times, changing my number, blocking, but only for a couple minutes at a time and I always hate myself for thinking it afterwards. I keep talking to Alex, but sometimes I'll answer a bit slower. Let them wait 3-5 minutes instead of 1-2, if I really steel myself I can hold back for 7 minutes.

One day without warning Alex doesn't text me at all. They've dissapeared before but never without sending a quick message to let me know about it, not until this day. Their status also worries me, only one word: "gone". There I am internally freaking out, losing it, trying to come up with reasons for which everything is fine. I don't ask Luck if they know anything because I know they'll get annoyed. It's not until late the next day that Alex lets me know they went a roadtrip. I tell them "I was worried lol" and immediately they ask why. I wasn't expecting an apology but the question struck me as weird, so I was reluctant to answer. Alex pushes for an answer, they haven't been this interested in what I've had to say for years. I with horror I realize that they liked that i was worried, they wanted to milk it as much as they could. I understand that people need validation, but I was already constantly complementing Alex and telling them how important they were. The fact that they preferred my panic (though in Alex's defense I never told them I was panicking) hit me hard. I didn't elaborate on why I was worried. Alex got upset. And i spent the next hour sobbing over my phone, realizing i needed some distance.

I started slow. I wouldn't say goodnight somedays, others I would forgo a Goodmorning, but I always answered (I swore to myself never to leave Alex on read). I went on a trip and I decided I would enjoy it for once, so I let Alex know i couldn't text much. Nevertheless this lack of contact didn't keep me from worrying and wondering endlessly.

After the trip we kept texting less, we expressed missing each other but neither of us did too much to keep things going. I tried to focus on my in-person relationships, and friendships with people my age. I went back to stories and published a novella.

Nowadays Alex and I talk maybe once every week and a half. The conversations are excruciating. Alex tells me how things still suck, my usual words of comfort seem to mean nothing to either of us anymore. Alex leaves me on read as soon as the conversation goes dry, usually after ten minutes worth of conversation, sometimes over the span of many hours. We don't talk again until I cave in and say hello. Then a couple days later Alex says hello. And then it's up to me again, and every time I tell myself I won't do it.

Luck has told me their opinion of Alex, they saw way before I did how self-centered Alex is. The thing is Alex doesn't do it on purpose, I am entirely sure of that and so is Luck. Luck treats Alex nicely but they're out of touch, more than I am. I am not mad at Alex. I still care deeply for them, but I feel like there's nothing I can do andour old dynamic just hurts both of us. Cutting them off is not an option, they're just a kid and I'm better than that. So I just don't start a conversation.

A couple days ago Alex texted me (even though it was my unspoken turn to text first) and we talked, and the conversation wasn't dry at all, and it wasn't that painful to deal with. They showed interest in my life and shared some sad stuff but also happy stuff about theirs, and it felt like old times. We texted the entire day. At one point the they mentioned that I could text them whenever I wanted, and I felt an underlying petition that I do. The conversation went on and eventually they left me on read the next morning when I answered a message from the night before.

Ever since then I've been actively holding back from texting them but I can't help but wonder if I'm a jerk for it.

These aren't even all the factors but this post has gotten too long lol.

So AITA?

[termagax]

in the morning i need to come up with actual names and designs for these things but brainstorms for the time being:

fisherguy and aquarist. likes to be left alone. butch lez. very non-talkative guy and professional grumpus. shiny hunter and big fan of colorful and rare pokemon even if they seem kind of lame to others. constantly getting into forum debates about proper poke-husbandry. writes a blog about their local observations and shiny hunting adventures. likes nature docs, aspires to write wildlife guidebooks, one of Those coffee drinkers who has a lot of opinions and spends a lot of time and $ on nice coffee. partner is clodsire. was her first pokemon and has been a lifelong friend.

pokemon vet school dropout - moved out here to work with the forest management department. awkward, clumsy, very empathetic nature leads to it taking in any pokemon that looks at them sadly for more than 2 minutes. good at the care, but gets in over its head with too many at once. thought maybe a social media account would help raise awareness about common issues in pokemon but it mostly just led to a lot of "hey somethings wrong with my pokemon, if i send it to you will you fix it" type messages and now it has even more. all of its own pokemon are problem children (partner is an anxiety disorder clefairy (also a pkmn center reject), klepto zigzagoon, lairon with iron deficiency / soft shell, no-tail slopoke, ect).

those two ☝️ are roommates sharing a house near the beach and within comfortable driving distance of the forest. sharing a home means fisherguy is dragged into the other ones pokemon rescue center shenanigans. she pretends to hate it but genuinely likes helping the animals out.

wildlife photographer / surfer / scuba diver / ect who came to the area recently to gather material for a project. kinda sorta love interest for fisherguy. occassionally will hire her as a tour guide when she needs to find a specific spot or is looking for a particular pokemon. they dont know this at first but it turns out diver girl is a fan/avid reader of fishergirls pokeblog. eventually end up as a writer/photographer duo.

[breadstickysquid]

Haha I wrote something unedited before the stream and I'll uh. I thought it'd be cool to share it!

9/10/2023 (RANBOO REBRAND DAY!!)

Alright so, I can’t focus on my schoolwork rn because im too excited so heres an essay on how finding ranboolive changed my life for the better.

Early 2020, I had been watching mostly Wilbur soot, but had fallen out of interest as my mental health declined with the start of one of the worst years of school I’ve had that fall. I was having an absolutely rotten time. I only had 1-2 friends who I saw/talked to maybe once every few months, my classmates were apathetic to me, I was extremely gender dysphoric (though I didn’t know it at the time). I was quite frankly a danger to myself. It was.. bad. But one day, I was procrastinating on schoolwork by browsing youtube and I stumbled across Ranboo’s “spooky’s jumpscare mansion” video. I watched it and was instantly hooked. I’d have been on youtube for YEARS before then, but something about Ranboo’s content and community (though small compared to today’s given that I found him early October of 2020) made me feel warm and welcome, less lonely. It became an escape. I’d turn on vods in the background or tune into streams live while I chipped away at the workload that had me on knife’s edge for my depression and anxiety.

Things still sucked for awhile. I’d watch streams, seeing ranboo interact with others, and yearn for friends like that. In march of 2021, I finally took the leap and joined twitter, hoping to find people who liked watching Ranboo as much as I did. I did find those people, but social anxiety got a hold of me and would erase any words I wanted to say to fellow boobers. I did however, meet my best friend, which is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. (today, we are queerplatonic partners <3)

I had a chunk of time when I felt guilty about spending so much time online, and I stopped watching ranboo for awhile (the beginning of the beeduo meetup), but eventually I ended up coming back (it’s the neurodivergency oops), and though I still didn’t make any Ranboo viewer friends, I had a few friends that I introduced to also watching ranboo, just so I could infodump to them. By the time a year had passed since I started watching ranboo, I had a friend group again, and I saw other boobers talking about mental health and gender, and I actually realized I needed to reach out for help, and I started taking medication and doing therapy.

By 2022, I had reconnected with IRL friends, and was seeing people outside of my imidiate family more than once every few months for the first time in around 2 years. I ended up finally getting my grubby little paws on having a discord account, and lurked in the Rancord for ages. I never talked- I was too scared to, I thought I’d be seen as lame or something (that’s so stupid thinking back, all boobers are lame [lovingly] yaknow) but I also dragged my best friend into slowly starting to consume ranboo content, and I started realizing “hey, I could do this content creation stuff too” and I started to research things.

2023. now over 2 years of watching ranboo, and I’ve watched them grow as a person alongside me. It made my heart warm. I was happy, I was seeing my IRL friends every week, I lost count of how many friends I had, I was getting decent grades and had started adhd medication :D

Generation loss released, and became my entire personality for two months. It is one of my special interests still, and has lead to me and my friends making our own horror series, which we are very proud of. I think I’ve watched generation loss all the way through at least 15 times by this point. Once, I watched it 3 times back-to-back in 2 days, making friends watch it. I found other boobers, and converted a bunch of my friends to booberism. I feel tad bit bad or weird for having my main special interest literally be some funnyman on the internet, but the past 3 years have had both the worst and the very best moments of my life.

As of today, I have more good days than bad days. I’m working on making a brand to follow my dreams and start streaming (my “what’s up danger moment” as I’ve been calling it), to make fun stuff with friends. I am a born entertainer. When I watch ranboo streams, I see things I can try for my content, I see things I would do the same and differently, I see how to set things up. Sure, I’m terrified to start, but I’ll never know if I succeed if I never do it. As I write this part, it is about 1 hour and 40 minutes until the Ranbrand stream. My chest hurts from excitement. I cannot put into words how much ranboo and their community matters to me. It has influenced my life forever in a positive way, and it will continue to do so long into the future, even when/if ranboo retires from content creation.

I look forward to many more fun times with the boobers and the boob king, and perhaps even having those experiences for myself. When I think about streaming, I can’t see my flaws, I don’t have that little voice degrading me in my head. I can only think about myself positively, and I have ranboo and the boobers to thank for that.

It’s the start of a new era. Its bittersweet and nostalgic, but change is inevitable and good. Both ranboo and I have grown as people, becoming better versions of our best selves, and gaining confidence. I see life now, and I see the beauty of it, not the grime. I can never thank him enough.

Everyone is so kind and nice and sweet I just feel like theres so much love going around its amazing :( thank you guys for making these last 3 years just incredible

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

it just hit me that my early 20s put down, i suppose, of "why would anyone bother dating me when im the least interesting person ever???? because i have no social life and no friends to invite me out to be interesting and funny????" really fucked me up.

like yeah, dgmw, it does absolutely suck that i didn't get invited out to parties and bar nights and concerts etc by friends/acquaintances basically at all in my early 20s, and one of the very few times that i was, it fell through and i never got invited out again..... but that didn't mean that someone else wouldn't have found me interesting and worth inviting out somewhere. it didn't mean that every single person ever would find me so painstakingly boring, mundane, lame and i guess unmanageable and unworthy of their time; that it just wasn't worth even trying.

obviously most of the "i have to be interesting for someone to date" bs probably came from my obsession in high school with himym, most particularly with my intense fixation on none other than barney stinson and his playbook shenanigans (i actually bought the playbook in 2010 and havent looked at it since lmao), and his bro-code bullshit for the show. and i guess to some extent it's also something to do with ted as well. i guess it also again comes from sex and the city as well. moreover, the funny date stories that i read in cosmo mag also made me feel like i had to be interesting. finally, it's probably attached to me watching far too many stand-up comedians (mainly women, but also some men), who always have bits about shitty dating app convos and shitty date experiences or behaviours in relationships that are hilarious.

i guess it was also part of my "im not other girls" bullshit i was on throughout high school.... and also in my early 20s- although i was slowly growing out of this stance by then, in the hope that i'd eventually make friends at uni if i was a little less judgemental and pretentious.

just anyway. idek where im going with this. i suppose it's a warning to my younger followers, if i have any, that for the love of god. you don't have to be interesting- whatever the fuck that actually means- for someone to date you. just date. get out there. bc if you focus so entirely on being "interesting", you'll get to your late 20s and realise that you've blocked out so many experiences and situations, all because you were so fucking concerned about "will this person find me interesting??? god i hope they will, so that im not boring and lame." I missed so many opportunities for growth all because I was paranoid about being interesting and trying to spin everything to be witty and engaging, instead of leaning into being just a bit ordinary and boring.

because if someone is nice enough, they obviously will be genuinely interested in you and your life. no matter how boring/normal/mundane etc you think you may be, someone will notice your other qualities and match your so-called mundaneness, but they'll make you feel special in midst of it all. fuck being interesting and mysterious and whatever other bullshit i thought i had to be in order to date anyone at all.

embrace your ordinariness, to an extent. because being so absorbed in trying to be interesting is, very ironically, incredibly tiresome and uneventful. it will make you feel rather empty and dulled inside: instead of being filled with tangible life experiences that you can share with someone and also learn from. all because you got to be seen and heard by someone despite how plain and unremarkable you may have felt. bc that's what i missed out on while being so attached to being interesting and entertaining in my early 20s.

[storiesforallfandoms]

dirty little secret ~ jade west;victorious

word count: 1223

request?: no

description: in which someone who is supposed to be her friend reveals her deepest, darkest secret for some internet clout

pairing: jade west x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

If I had to hear the word “Robarazzi” one more time I think I’d lose my mind.

I don’t know why Robbie thought the brightest ideae was to bully his friends on his shitty TMZ rip-off show on TheSlap.com, but he was getting good viewership from it. Everyone was loving the show, it was the talk of the school. At the expense of our friend group.

Luckily, Robbie was smart enough not to air anything to do with me on his show. He was too afraid of me, he knew my bite was much meaner than my bark.

Walking into school, I didn’t notice everyone looking at me. I walked up to my locker, my headphones blasting some All Time Low, and unlocked it. I was grabbing my books when Tori raced up to me, immediately trying to tell me something.

I took my headphones out. “What?”

“Have you seen the new episode of Robarazzi?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course not, I don’t watch that garbage.”

Tori gave me a look I couldn’t read as she got her phone from her pocket. The episode started as usual: Robbie and his stupid lackeys sat around their filming room.

“What do you guys have for me today?” Robbie asked.

“I overheard a pretty secretive conversation between Tori Vega and (Y/F/N),” a lower grade boy responded.

My eyes widened as I snatched the phone from Tori and watched as a video of the two of us by Tori’s locker popped up on the screen.

“Are you going to tell her now?” Tori was asking me.

“No,” I responded, nearly rolling my eyes at her question.

“Why? She’s finally single!”

“Yeah, she was single a month ago too, and remember what happened? They got back together the next day.”

“But this is different. It’s very final now.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“(Y/N), come on. You have to tell her eventually. You can’t just keep this secret for your whole life.”

“I can try.” Tori gave me a look at this. “Tori, I appreciate your concern, but the fact of the matter is I don’t even know if she likes girls. I could ruin this friendship and I don’t want to do that. I will take this secret to my grave. Jade West will never know I have a crush on her.”

I shared a look with Tori as the video ended before shoving her phone back into her hands and making my way to Robbie’s locker.

He knew he was in trouble the moment he saw me. He tried to make an escape, but I shoved him against his locker. Tori and I surrounded him, making sure he couldn’t leave.

“Take the video down,” I demanded.

“But it’s the best episode of Robarazzi yet!”

“That doesn’t matter, Robbie,” Tori said. “What you did to (Y/N) is not right!”

“What I did? I helped her admit her crush to Jade!”

“That wasn’t your secret to tell!” I snapped, feeling my body shake with rage. I was so ready to beat the shit out of him in this moment. I didn’t care if he was my friend.

“Hey!”

As if the moment couldn’t get any worse, Jade came around the corner and also stormed up to Robbie, grabbing his shirt collar and violently shoving him up against his locker. If fear was Robbie’s primary emotion when I was getting mad at him, whatever Jade was making him feel was much worse.

“Take the episode down,” Jade hissed, her voice dangerously low.

“But - ” Robbie started.

“TAKE THE EPISODE DOWN!” Jade basically screamed.

With a shaky hand, Robbie pulled his tablet from his bag and deleted the episode in front of us. When he had, Jade let him go and he quickly scurried away, his bag still hanging open as he raced off.

“Well,” Tori said, “that went well.”

“Thanks,” I said to Jade.

“No problem. What he did was wrong on so many levels and so not fair to you. If I were you, I’d never be friends with that little creep ever again.”

“I’m debating on it.”

An awkward silence fell over the three of us. I had some hope that Jade hadn’t seen the video, but of course I should’ve known better. Even if I could’ve gotten the video taken down before Jade saw it, the gossip would spread throughout the school like wildfire.

Tori looked over at me before smiling awkwardly. “Well...I’m gonna go.”

I tried to secretly grab hold of her arm to get her to stay, but she managed to escape before I could. It was just me and Jade, stood awkwardly together.

What do I say? Do I leave? Pretend this never happened?

I decided on the final two options and nodded to Jade before attempting to leave.

“(Y/N), wait.”

I cringed to myself as I turned back to Jade.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

I sighed. “I want to melt into the floor and cease to exist, actually. Or get a concussion and forget any of this happened.”

Jade smiled a little and nodded. “I get that. I was mortified when Robbie shared that video of me and Beck.”

I tried not to flinch at the mention of Beck’s name, but the concerned look on Jade’s face told me I didn’t conceal it very well.

“Tori was right, you know,” she told me. “About the breakup. It is permanent this time.”

“I’ve heard that before, Jade.”

“I mean it this time. It’s over. Beck and I don’t love each other anymore. Well, we love each other, but we’re not in love with each other.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Jade smiled at me. It was genuine and not awkward. “You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). You’ll figure it out.”

I knew what she was implying, but I couldn’t believe it. Jade had never shown interest in women before. Maybe it was because she was with Beck, but she had never even mentioned being into girls before Beck.

“You’re...you’re straight,” I said. “Aren’t you?”

“I don’t have a label,” she responded with a shrug. “I just love whoever I love.”

“Oh.” My response was lame, but it did make her laugh, which was a win in my eyes.

“Is that why you never told me? Because you thought I was straight?”

“There was so much more than that. I was afraid to ruin our friendship, and you were so in love with Beck I didn’t think I’d ever have a chance.”

Jade nodded. “Well...I can’t tell you that I’m ready to date anyone right now...but if you’re willing to wait at least a month for me, I’d love to give things a shot.”

I took my phone from my pocket and opened the calendar app. Jade watched, a little confused, as I set a date.

“A reminder,” I announced, “for one month’s time: take Jade on the best date of her life.”

Jake smiled as the warning bell rang. “I should get to class.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There was a moment where neither of us moved, we just stood smiling at one another. Finally, Jade went towards her first class. I did a quick victory dance before racing off to my own class.

Robarazzi finally did something good.

[fairyoftbz]

insecurities | l. juyeon

🧸 pairing: idol!juyeon x (insecure) fem!reader 🧸 word count: 2.7k 🧸 genre: angst, fluffy end 🧸 tw: mentions of insecurities, doubts 🧸 a/n: sorry i forgot to post, i had a busy day and im exhausted, i hope it's gonna be enough! 🧸 requested: yes! thank you, it is very cliché but i hope this is what you had in mind! 💝

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Juyeon came home tired but happy, excited to see you again after a long day of intense practice and a show where he participated as an MC. You, on the other hand, were not as happy as he was, but you were for sure tired of something.

You couldn’t deny it, dating Juyeon had positive points, he was everything you could ask for in a man, but there were just as many negative points. He was an attractive, sweet gentleman, and it was almost impossible for him not to attract other girls, not even doing it on purpose. And it was one of your many insecurities even if you considered yourself pretty, you couldn’t help but get insecure every time he talked to someone else.

Because let’s be honest, in the Korean music industry, every single woman looks like an absolute goddess. So, when he interacts with someone, and they’re a bit too friendly, your heart pinches in pain as he gives them the smile he keeps for you and you only.

You think that they are more interesting, prettier and funnier than you, which has the ability to send your thoughts to the dark side of self-consciousness, not feeling pretty or enough next to those women. And tonight, it was hard to watch on National TV your boyfriend being extremely friendly with the other MC.

You had tried to comfort yourself that it was just a mask, that he had to look friendly and handsome on TV. However, you couldn’t help feeling disappointment and anger as he gave attentive eyes to the other MC as she explained something, his eyes falling on her lips pressed against the mic.

Juyeon walks through the main door, tossing his keys on the chest of drawers, getting rid of his jacket and shoes before joining you in the living room, happy to see that you were watching the same channel he appeared on. Eyes glued on the screen, your thumb rubbed against your lips, feeling the skin of the cuticles you scratched while watching your boyfriend feeling rough against your lips.

“Hi love,” he said as he sat next to you, pressing his lips on your cheek. You didn’t react, only emitting a slight hum as he sat comfortably.

Juyeon frowned but didn’t raise your bad mood, trying to think what was going on inside your head. Maybe you had a bad day, or you were just tired, despite scratching his head and think, he couldn’t pinpoint what had brought you in such a bad mood.

“Did you have fun?” you bitterly spat, and Juyeon’s eyes widened, surprised by your tone, the wrinkle on his forehead deepening as his brows furrowed at your attitude.

“I did. Are you mad or something?” he bluntly asked, and you sighed, taking the remote to turn the TV off, falling in an unpleasant, uncomfortable silence.

“Oh no, I’m super fine. I really enjoyed my boyfriend giving heart eyes to another girl on national TV, it was such a nice thing to watch,” you bitterly chuckled, and Juyeon’s eyes widened even more, not expecting you to pull out the jealousy card on that.

“Babe, what are you talking about? You know-”

“Please, spare me your fake confusion and lame excuses, I clearly saw what I saw. My eyes never deceive me,” you said while standing up, but Juyeon was quick to imitate you and grab your wrist to prevent you from walking away. You tried to free yourself from his grip, but he only tightened his hand around it.

“Juyeon, let me go,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to prevent the tears from escaping your eyes. Breaking down was the last thing you wanted to do in this situation.

“Not before you explain to me what this fuss is all about,” he said, irritation replacing confusion in his eyes. You let out a mocking scoff, your eyes filled with anger and disdain boring into your boyfriend’s, holding eye contact for a few seconds.

“You really think I’m this dumb? I clearly saw the eyes you gave to the other MC when you were both animating the show. Cracking jokes, giving her smiles that could outshine the sun, your eyes ogling her lips when she was talking or smiling. Did you really think I wouldn’t catch that?” you raised your voice, letting anger take over your body.

“I never did all of that, I don’t know what you are insinuating,” he spat, trying not to show it, but your words hurt him, hating the fact that you could imagine him cheat on you or fancy another girl.

“Go on social media then, you will see what I am ‘insinuating’! Everyone is already talking about how whipped you are and how cute of a couple you would look together. Some fans are even starting to make edits!” you shouted, shoving your phone in your hoodie’s front pocket.

Juyeon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his nerves a bit, a gesture that had the ability to enrage you even more. Your family used to do that when they found you annoying or wanted to belittle you, and now seeing Juyeon doing the exact same thing as them really made you even more insecure about this whole situation. Your family made you feel like a real burden during your childhood and teen years that it hurt you to think that Juyeon was probably agreeing with that thought right now.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you are talking about. I was just trying to be nice, I can’t be rude or it’s mine and the group’s reputation that I’ll take down with me-”

“No it’s okay, no need to explain yourself, the message was very clear,” you said, and you finally freed yourself from his grip, your heart breaking as Juyeon sighed in annoyance again, seeing him almost roll his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant, and you know it. Don’t react like that, please,” he started, but you waved your hand in front of you.

“No, no, I got it, you-”

“Y/N, for the love of God, stop being so fucking insecure, it’s getting so fucking annoying at this point! I can’t do anything without you getting fucking doubtful, start having faith in me and in this relationship, dammit!” your eyes widened as Juyeon eventually snapped, his mouth slowly closing as he stared at you, realisation hitting him that his words and tone made a lot of damage once he saw the tears gather in your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The couch separated the two of you, creating the illusion of a painful wall that made you shiver, feeling like your apartment had lost all of its warmth on the spur of the moment. His words were brutal, and they bounced around your skull, your head turning towards the corridor to swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying not to break down in front of him.

“Y/N, I’m-”

“Leave me alone,” you replied, voice wavering as you walked out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door shut before locking it.

Juyeon sighed and carded his hands through his dark locks, closing his eyes as he thought of the words that had escaped his mouth too quickly. He cursed under his breath as the living room fell into a deafening silence, his hands linked at the back of his neck as he thought of what just happened.

“Why did I say that,” he muttered under his breath and collapsed on the couch, unlocking his phone and scrolling on social media to try and momentarily forget your beautiful face painted with a hurtful expression because of him, but it was to no avail.

He saw what you saw; the fiction, the edits, the collages, he saw and read everything. He already hated seeing you cry and being hurt, but he actually loathed himself for being such an idiot and not comfort you about the whole situation with what was happening on every social platform.

His heart shattered in millions of pieces as he pictured you crying in your shared bed, holding the stuffed animal he got you for your anniversary tight against your chest, letting you drown in your insecurities and intrusive thoughts. He loved you very much, but despite him trying to remind you every single day, your intrusive thoughts always managed to get the upper hand when you found yourself hanging out on your own or with some friends. It was as if your brain shut out everyone who tried to reassure you or make you feel better, letting you drown and struggle in your sorrow.

Yes, the other idols were pretty, but they were nothing compared to you. Juyeon had only eyes for you and cared about you and, of course, his members, but never had he thought about leaving you for someone else. His intentions were just to sound and appear nice and welcoming on TV because he knew that some fans, antis and media wouldn’t hesitate a second to bash him on different platforms and articles for his rudeness and insensitivity towards his idol colleague. And not only would he break his reputation, but also the group’s, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

However, he also understood that it was something hard to watch for you, even if he reminded you every single day that you were the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Sitting on the couch, he started reflecting, putting himself in your shoes for a second. How would he have reacted if he saw you being super friendly and affectionate to another man? Someone more handsome, nicer than him, cracking jokes here and there to see you smile and laugh.

He tossed his phone on the couch space next to him, where he wished you were instead of crying yourself in your shared bed, watching the device bounce, collide with the armrest and fall on the ground. He didn’t even fret checking if the screen cracked, head too high in his thoughts to bother.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he pressed his joined hands against his mouth, tongue poking his inner cheek as he realised he had really messed everything up. His knee started bouncing at the disgusting thought of losing you, perfectly knowing that he had to do something before you could slip through his hand like grains of sand.

Juyeon stood up and knocked on the bedroom door, softly calling for your name.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you didn’t respond, faintly hearing you cry on the other side of the wall. “Go away, please,” your strained voice barely making it to his ears, his fingers drumming against the surface of the door in frustration.

From your side of the bed, still holding that teddy bear close to your chest, you let your tears damp the top of its head, feeling the exhaustion of crying kicking in. Juyeon didn’t knock another time, trying not to push your buttons too much to save his chances to talk to you.

You heard a small thud on the lower part of the door, frowning as you wondered what it was. Deep breathings filled in the silence lingering in the corridor, selfishly feeling a bit relieved that you weren’t the only one hurt in this situation. Juyeon was a smart, tolerant man, he knew when to put his pride aside and not blame you for something you said or did. Well, it’s not the case for this time, and it’s probably exhaustion that spoke for him, and that, of course, doesn’t excuse anything, but he wanted to apologise and make up for everything.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me or hear my voice after what I’ve told you, but I really want to apologise for what I’ve said,” you held your breath to hear his faint, low voice on the other side of the door. You sat up and felt dizzy for a quick second, still holding the teddy bear against your chest, your face buried in its head as you let the tears keep rolling on your cheeks.

“I know it’s hard to date me, and I’m really sorry, I wish we had a simpler life, where we could hang out and go on dates like two normal people. It’s also hard for me to not be the type of boyfriend everyone wishes to have, but I’m so damn grateful to call you mine.” Juyeon marked a pause and ruffled his hair, pushing the front pieces away from his hair while thinking of his following words.

“I… you don’t know how much I’m sorry for using your insecurities against you. I shouldn’t have, it was the dumbest move I could ever do, but I just didn’t know what to answer. You are so pretty, so beautiful, amazing, and absolutely wonderful to have around to me, so seeing you this insecure makes me mad every time you compare yourself to someone you think looks prettier, thinner, or more perfect than you. It’s... really frustrating because I try my best to make you feel like a goddess and worth it every day, but those unrealistic society standards and god damn social media make you feel like you are not worth an ounce of love,” he took in a big breath and raised his knees upwards, letting his forearms rest on them.

You slowly opened the door behind him and dropped the teddy bear by his side, letting him know of your presence. He was quick to notice it and turn around to hug your legs tightly, your hands finding their way in his hair and started massaging his skull.

“I’m so sorry, Ju,” you faintly whispered, and he breathed in deeply against your skin as if he finally found you again after being separated from you for years.

He grabbed your cherished stuffed animal and stood up, holding it against your chest with a tender smile. He sat you down on the bed and gave you a proper hug, mouth pressing loving kisses on your forehead and temple as his hand caressed the back of your head, holding you as close to him as possible.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really am. I love you so, so much, I’m really sorry for all the stupid words I’ve thrown at you,” he said, and you shook your head, squeezing your arms around his middle tightly as an answer.

“I guess I have to accept that you have eyes only for me. But you know, it’s hard to acknowledge it and believe it when you find everyone around you ten times more beautiful than you are,” you mumbled against his chest as you sat on his lap, and he nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat.

“I know Y/N, I know. I wish I could rid you of those insecurities, my heart breaks each time I see you so unsure of yourself. You're just so beautiful and amazing, it honestly kills me to see you like this,” he whispered, and you bitterly chuckled, gently pulling away to look at him with pearly eyes, his arms around you holding you still tight, making sure that you wouldn’t go too far from him.

“You can’t do that, but maybe you can help me soothe them by keeping loving me the way you’ve done since day one,” you mumbled, and he smiled, his eyes shining with tears just like yours.

You both cupped each other’s face and sadly smiled at the other, Juyeon feeling comforted at the sensation of your thumbs wiping the tears away from his cheeks and vice versa.

“We just need time, love, but I promise I’m going to help you realise how much you mean to me and how beautiful you are. And how much I don’t care about other girls,” he mumbled, and he gently drew your face closer to his, your lips grazing against his mouth. You closed your eyes at the proximity, feeling so much love and passion in his kiss that it was getting hard to breathe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Juyeon pulled away from your lips and whispered against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours.

“I love you too,” you smiled, burying your face in his neck, your boyfriend kissing the crown of your head while hugging you tight.

You giggled as Juyeon applied pressure on your waist, making you fall on your side on the bed. His hand gently cradled your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone with a soft smile on his face. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against his, feeling him chuckle and gently press his lips against yours.

[hyetiny]

c// fem!reader, superhero reader, villain yeosang, lowkey enemies to fwb, top yeo, bottom reader, bodily scars + showing them to each other, mentions of violence, clubbing, drinking, dry humping, oral (f receiving), knifeplay, pain kink, choking, degradation, dirty talk, protected sex, yeo monster cock

please read the tags carefully, this may not be for everyone!

this is the longest thing i've ever written omfg. also i’m really proud of this, please don’t let it flop :’D

kang yeosang was the root of everything wrong in your life, you had decided.

he was like the annoying fly that wouldn’t stop buzzing around your ear on a hot summer’s day. no matter how many times you were certain that you had vanquished the city of the blight that was yeosang, the supervillain managed to come back unnoticed.

at this point, you were convincing yourself it was impossible to cease him from causing trouble. on shitty nights like this, you went down to the discreet nightclub, hidden away in a dark alleyway. whether you needed a good drink or a good fuck, the club was always there to provide.

“the usual?” the familiar bartender yunho asks, taking in your frustrated expression and slumped shoulders that he sees far too often. 

“yep, a slouchy susan.” you roll your eyes at the corny names yunho would come up with, your mind wandering to the silly names he must have had for the other patrons. it was always comforting to have a chat with the friendly bartender after a hard day - plus, you couldn’t deny he was absolute eye candy. 

“top it off, please.” you shift your glass back to him after downing it.

“put it on my tab, yuyu”. a familiar, deep voice comes from next to you.

you turn to see yet another unbelievably attractive man. he has blonde hair that grows just past his neck, his natural black roots starting to show through. from where you’re sitting on your rickety stool, you pick up on the hint of cologne that lingers on him. you’ve never seen him before, yet something about him seems eerily familiar, like you’ve seen him in a dream.

you shake off the feeling, instead deciding to chat him up.

“yuyu?” you giggle at his affectionate nickname for the barkeep.

“we go way back, it’s what his mother would call him when she’d drop him off to school. i guess it stuck”. the man smiles at you, visibly taking in your features and not breaking eye contact with you.

you’re taken aback by him, your heart thumping unusually fast for some reason.

“stop embarrassing me, yeo-”

the man clears his throat loudly. you must have missed something, because yunho immediately goes quiet and wordlessly hands your drinks - your “slouchy susan” and a whiskey for the man.

“so if he’s yuyu, what are you?” you ask him.

“you can call me ryusang.” he says.

“y/n”. 

the two of you lapse into easy conversation. you giggle at his lame jokes, and he does the same. you find common interests, funny anecdotes, blissfully letting the stresses of the day slip away with each word of the attractive ryusang.

soon enough, the dance floor grows crowded and the music gets louder.

“dance with me?” ryusang stands up, offering a hand. you take it gratefully, letting him drag you to the dance floor. it’s a mess of sweaty bodies, but you don’t care as you become part of it with ryusang. his hands find your hips, and you’re both falling into an easy rhythm, completely in sync with the trap music blasting from the speakers.

as expected, the space between you gradually gets smaller and smaller, until it’s practically non-existent. you’re shamelessly grinding against each other, joining the litany of couples who are completely up against each other. you pretend not to pay any mind to his noticeably growing bulge, instead deciding to tease him a bit by intentionally grinding up harder against him. this night was going right where you wanted it to.

“my place is near here.” he whispers right into your ear, making you shiver underneath him.

“then we’d better get out of here quickly, hm?” you say in response.

since you had both been drinking, you decide to take a cab to his place. the sexual tension is rife in the air. you deliberately, teasingly lay a hand on his thigh, oh so close to his crotch, his face glowing red as it clearly riles him up.

when you get up the flight of stairs up to his apartment, and he fumbles with the key for what feels like minutes, you’re all over each other. the first kiss you share is nothing but messy - all teeth and tongue, nothing but complete lust for one another. he’s gently guiding you towards his room, until your legs hit his mattress. you break the kiss, only for him to gently lay you down, straddle you, and get right back to sloppily kissing you.

he undoes the buttons of your blouse without breaking the kiss, impressively with one hand. he breaks the kiss once again to take in the sight of your newly exposed skin. his eyes engulf the expanse of scars on your skin, some older and some looking to be very much recent.

“who did this to you?” he whispers in what seems to be a mixture of awe and anger. hesitantly, he runs a finger across a thin line that spans from your lower belly to your ribcage.

“you did, yeosang.” you say, deadpan.

he pauses, his heart dropping to his stomach.  “excuse me?”

“did you think you were fooling me? seriously, why didn’t you pick a less obvious fake name?” you giggle. despite the vulnerable position you’re in, you clearly hold the upper hand, indulging in his shocked expression. you hadn't missed the bartender's obvious slip up of yeosang's name, and could never forget that deep voice of his that would always taunt you.

“you’re always screwing me over y/n. i didn’t think we’d end up like this”. he says as a smooth recovery.

you roll your eyes. “remember when you gave me this?” you tap at the scar. he shakes his head.

“two years ago. you were trying to get rid of all power in the city. i almost stopped you, so you pegged a knife right here.” 

“if i was trying to kill you, the knife would’ve stuck.” he says defensively. “you got away with a scratch, only because i wanted that.”

“well, thanks for not trying to kill me, kang yeosang. i’m flattered.” you say sarcastically. 

“well, you gave me something worse.” he strips himself of his shirt. to no surprise, his skin is similar to yours. a canvas for an array of marks and scars, most of which you recognize to be your own work.

you point to an especially long one on his collarbone. “that one was definitely me.”

“yeah, and it hurt like a bitch.” he says snarkily.

“well, now we’re both half naked.”

“nice catch.”

“well for convenience’s sake, we may as well get back to-”

his lips are on yours again, effectively shutting you up. you don’t protest - besides, it’s hard to when his tongue is in your mouth. 

what you don’t expect is the cold press of something against your throat, which then trails down to your collarbones. it isn’t pleasant, but not uncomfortable either. it’s sharp against your skin, and your curiosity gets the best of you.

yeosang begins to press open mouthed kisses against your skin, alongside what you now see is a familiar knife in his hand. you begin to feel more vulnerable underneath him, knowing he had complete power over you. yet somehow, you don’t feel afraid of the man who has your life in his hands.

he undoes your jeans, letting out a low whistle at the damp spot forming against your panties. the flat side of the blade presses against your clothed core, earning a whine for him.

"fucking touch me already". you say through gritted teeth, despising that your mortal enemy has you so needy for him.

"am i not already touching you?" he says with a shit eating smirk. fuck him, you think. but that was exactly what you wanted to do.

to your surprise, you hear the sound of fabric ripping, and a sudden cold against your core, as though-

"i liked those." you say frustratedly, finding yeosang pulling away the ripped remnants of your panties away from your core.

"you look far better without them." is all he says before licking an experimental stripe up your already wet hole, earning a breathy moan from you. you don't have it in you to be mouthy when his tongue continues to tease your labia, eventually meeting your clit in what is the most heavenly thing you've ever felt. all thoughts of how much you hate the man currently eating you out are out the window as the pad of his finger presses against your clit, his tongue messily lapping at your hole as if he was just licking for his pleasure rather than yours.

your hips subconsciously grind up in tandem with his tongue, earning small moans from him as well.

"so fucking wet. do you usually get this wet this quickly, or are you just that much of a slut for me?" he chuckles.

it takes every ounce of self control not to flick him on the forehead. the degrading name catches you off guard, yet somehow it makes your hole clench needily. besides, you want what's hidden under the confines of his black jeans far too much to be mean to him right now.

"just... just fill me up, yeosang."

"i like you like this." he says with a cocky smile. it gives you butterflies, even though you know it means nothing more than just a spur of the moment thought. "beg for me a little more, and i'll think about it."

oh, the urge to punch him in the face.

"fuck you."

"that's the plan."

you sigh in frustration. "kang yeosang, my mortal enemy, fill me up with your monster fucking cock until i can't think straight." you say sarcastically.

surprisingly, it's enough for him. it seems you weren't wrong when you said "monster cock" his cock far thicker and longer than any cock you had taken recently. or in general, for that matter.

he must notice the way you gape at it, giggling to himself.

"cond-" you start, but he cuts you off by leaning over to his bedside drawer.

he shuffles around before he finds what he's looking for, sliding on the first condom he finds and coating himself in lube for good measure.

"ready? are you okay?" he asks, lining himself up against your entrance.

you want to roll your eyes, but you know he's just looking out for you. you give him a nod, and it's all it takes for him to push, breaching your wet hole and filling you up perfectly. you can't stop the high whine that leaves your lips. it's embarrassing, but yeosang seems to enjoy it, groaning into your ear.

"you're so fucking tight. expected you to be all stretched out like the whore you are." he whispers into your ear, embarrassingly only making you clench more around him.

you barely need to adjust, needing nothing more than for him to ruin you. his hips set a steady pace, grinding oh so perfectly against you. the tip of his cock perfectly reaches that sweet spot inside you, earning a louder moan for him. you'd be embarrassed with what his neighbours must be hearing, but it's the last thing on your mind when you have such a perfect cock stretching you out.

"fuck, my perfect slut. so nice and tight around my cock, huh? it's like this pussy was made to take my cock." he growls, his thrusts only getting harder and sloppier the closer he gets to his high.

"o-only for you." you cry out, gasping as he fills you up impossibly deep, over and over again. the coil building up in your stomach only gets tighter when his fingers find your clit.

the breaking point is when his lips meet your collarbone, leaving more kisses and tiny bites here and there. the sensations all over are too much for you. you cry out when your orgasm hits you harder than ever before, leaving you breathless. your orgasm triggers his as well, indicated by the long, pleasured groan he lets out.

you can't do anything but catch your breath as he pulls out, taking off the condom, tying it up and throwing it away in the bin next to his bed.

"who knew that all it took was a good fuck to get you weak for me?" yeosang breaks the silence.

"shut up." you say weakly, still too breathless to properly argue back.

"maybe i will, if you make me."

needless to say, he keeps you up for a few more hours until you both fall asleep, the first rays of the sunrise peeking through the blinds of his window.

the next morning, you wake up groggy and exhausted, the drinks and activities from last night finally catching up to your body. to your disappointment, yeosang isn't there next to you, the other side of the bed empty.

of course, the asshole didn't have the decency to wait for you to wake up. reaching out for your phone, you find to your surprise that there's a sticky note on it.

“last night was fun, we should do it again. i've gone out to wreak havoc, so i know our paths will cross again soon anyway.” - your mortal enemy, kang yeosang <3

[xjoonchildx]

guilty | knj x reader | chapter two: incheon mall tube tops

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.5K

notes: i really hope you guys are enjoying namjoon’s story! i think there will only be one more chapter after this.  and like a true unfocused writer i started daydreaming about a yoongi one-shot to go with it? gah, nevermind.  i really hope you guys like this and i’d love to hear how you feel one way or another.  a huge thanks to my amazing beta @hobi-gif​ who does a hell of a lot more than just find typos.  and all of my love has to go out to @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna​ @taetaewonderland​ because all three of you are so much more than tumblr friends.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

**********************

It didn’t matter how hard you tried to hide your sadness, Namjoon saw it.

It didn’t matter how many hushed calls you tried to sneak, or how many smiles you tried to force -- Namjoon saw right through your act from the very beginning.  He’d seen enough to know that you were facing some kind of personal battle. He understood enough about you to know that you were far too private to bring it up or ask for help.

He should have asked.

The question sat heavy on the tip of his tongue for weeks.  He should have asked on the days he would spot you at your desk, fingers pressed to your temples in frustration.  Or on the days when he would catch you staring out the window, mind a million miles away.

He didn’t.

Instead, he let himself be driven to distraction by the way your blouses fit perfectly against the lines of your body. The way your pencil skirts hugged the curve of your hips. How soft your hair looked pulled into the low, loose knot you favored.

He found himself stumbling over his words when you’d quietly slip into meetings to deliver an urgent message or he’d drift off in the middle of conversations just because he’d caught sight of you outside his office door.

So it wasn’t long before what started as a preoccupation turned into a full-blown fixation.

You’d turn up at his request, poised and professional as always -- and he’d be lost in thought, defiling you a thousand different ways in his head.  Fantasizing about getting his hands on you, his mouth on you, his teeth on you.

You didn’t deserve that.

That’s why Namjoon kept his mouth shut -- stuck in a maddening cycle of wanting to help you, wanting to know you, just wanting you.

All of it made him feel guilty as hell.

*********************

The new girl is a fucking disaster.

Namjoon has yet to figure out how she manages to be underfoot at the most inconvenient times and simultaneously nowhere to be found when she’s needed.  She misplaces files and misses calls and forgets assigned tasks altogether. He’s lost track of the number of times he’s passed her desk to find her taking pictures of herself; lips pouted, angle skewed.

Two weeks ago, she was probably selling tube tops at Incheon Mall and now she’s playing gatekeeper to one of the most powerful men in Seoul.  So it’s not her fault that she’s woefully unprepared for this job.

And it’s not her fault that she’s not you.

Namjoon has spent the better part of the morning debating the call he’s about to make, picking up the phone and setting it back down at least half a dozen times.  But he’s at the end of his rope, running out of patience and options.

So he swallows his pride and picks up the phone just one more time.  

You answer on the first ring.

“Mister Kim.”

God, he’s missed the sound of your voice.  

“Good morning,” he starts carefully, clearing his throat. “I’m certain you have a lot on your plate but I was wondering if you could come sit with the new girl for a few minutes.  She’s struggling a bit.”  

The line is quiet for a moment and Namjoon can practically hear your thoughts on the other end of the line.  The ones that say well that’s what you get for replacing your perfectly competent assistant with a child.

“I left notes,” is the quiet reply that comes instead.

“You did.”

“Detailed notes. Written, detailed notes.”

“Yes,” Namjoon agrees, rubbing his fingers across his mouth.  “I’m certain they were quite detailed.  It’s just that she’s having trouble following those notes because --”  

“Because she can’t read?”

Namjoon cringes.  Any small hope he had that you weren’t taking your reassignment personally dies with the abrupt delivery of that statement.

“Apparently not,” he admits lamely.

He hears the quiet sigh you take in before answering.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

*************************

There’s a moment -- just after Seokjin has walked through his office door -- when Namjoon catches a glimpse of you.

You are leaned over the new girl’s desk, lips pursed, pointing something out on the computer screen.  Namjoon freezes when you look up and lock eyes with him just as the door swings shut.

Christ, is he ever going to be able to look at you without feeling like he’s had the wind knocked out of him?

He turns to find Seokjin staring at him, one brow raised.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon exhales, shoving a hand through his hair as he walks back to his desk.  “I’m fine. You said you wanted to talk about something?”

“I do,” Seokjin starts, helping himself to a seat. “Two things, actually. Both pertaining to the amazing new assistant you so generously gifted me.”

Namjoon’s nails dig into the palm of his hand.

“Go on.”

“Apparently she’s some kind of whiz with numbers,” Seokjin continues, unbothered by his strained response.  “I gave her a few of the books to look over and she already found a couple of our guys in the Songpa district skimming off the top. I’ll bet there’s even more where that came from and she’ll find it.  She’s got a good eye.”

Namjoon feels pride stir in his chest.  Yet again, you exceed expectations.  

“Send Yoongi and Hoseok to Songpa tonight,” he murmurs.  “I’ll be curious to hear what kind of explanation our friends come up with for their lapses in accounting.”

Seokjin nods.

“Will do.  So the other thing --” he pauses for a beat, like he’s trying to figure out how to carefully deliver what he has to say next.  “I know you asked me to try and figure out what’s going on with her and I think I have.  You’re right, she’s struggling with some personal issues.”

Namjoon leans forward in his chair, body rigid.

“Let me hear it.”

*************************

YOU

The new girl is a fucking disaster.

You have yet to figure out why she can’t work the printers or can’t read a simple spreadsheet when you know for fact she knows how to beam her selfies all the way to the goddamned moon.

It’s infuriating.

Just like it’s infuriating to see her seated at what should be your desk, doing what should be your job, working for the man who should be your boss.  

Figure shit out, you’d love to tell her.  Sink or swim, that’s how the real world works.  

The idea of letting her fail so dismally that Namjoon has no choice but to beg for you back is tempting.  But then he’d picked up the phone to personally ask you to help.

And apparently you are incapable of denying that man anything.

You’ve stayed late every day this week to review the spreadsheets Seokjin has given you to audit because of the extra time you’ve had to put aside to help the new girl navigate foreign concepts like filing and scheduling.

The numbers tell an interesting story.

The rumors about Kim Namjoon’s skill as a businessman don’t give him enough credit.  Money is pouring into the Gajog, hand over fist, from every major district in the city.  Billions of won flow into the organization from legitimate and not as legitimate revenue streams alike.  Combine the numbers and Kim Namjoon controls an empire worth trillions.

You stare at the sums and your mind flips back to your unexpected pay raise. It’s no wonder Namjoon can afford to be so generous.

It’s no wonder so many of the street-level men who work for him seem to be helping themselves to more than their fair share.  

It took you a few days to identify the patterns, comparing the new intake sheets to the old ones, but once you did the missing money practically jumped off the page.  Just a few audits in and you’d already been able to find at least 119 million won unaccounted for.

The Kim Namjoon you know is reserved and unflappable -- but this is information that’s bound to piss even him off.  

What is a man like him like when he’s angry?

You shudder at the thought.

Before long, the night sky stares back at you from the window across from your desk and you decide it’s well past time you went home.  You sort everything into neat piles and leave yourself organized notes before packing up to leave.

***************************

There’s no answer from your mother when you call to her from the hallway.  

You frown as you make your way to her bedroom, worry melting away when you find her asleep in her chair.  Her head is bent at a sharp angle, and you immediately move to help her prop her up.

Her eyes open to slits, unfocused from sleep and medication.

“Ttal,” she whispers, grimacing as she straightens out the crick in her neck.

“Eomma,” you whisper in a hushed rebuke. “We’ve talked about this.  You can’t fall asleep in this chair, it’s terrible for you.”

She nods slowly, pointing to a glass of water on her nightstand.  You hand it to her, but it wobbles in her weak grip and you take hold of it to help her drink before setting it aside.

“I’m hurting tonight,” she admits.  

“I know,” you sigh, heart breaking. “Come, let me help you into bed.”

The process is painstaking.  You help hoist her frail frame out of the chair and over to the side of the bed then work carefully to help her lie back.  There’s no meat on her anymore, just skin and bones, so you tuck her blankets carefully around her legs and arms until you’re certain she’s not shivering anymore.

You know this isn’t working.  

It doesn’t matter how many calls you make over the course of a day to check in, or how many well-meaning neighbors drop in to help, leaving your mother alone for hours in this state is a dangerous gamble.  

You fight back tears of frustration.  You grew up without siblings and your father has been gone for years. Being alone is something you’ve had a long time to get used to.  

But you’ve still never felt as alone as you do right now.

You think in the quiet for a while, stroking your fingers across your mother’s upturned palm, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do.  

Unsure of what comes next.

“Kim Namjoon grew up to be such a handsome man,” your mother rasps.

The steady stroke of your fingers comes to an abrupt halt as the fine hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end.

“Excuse me?”

Your mother doesn’t repeat herself.

“Eomma,” you urge, nudging her hand with yours.  “What is this talk of Kim Namjoon?”

Her lips quirk when she closes her eyes like she’s recalling a pleasant memory.

“His mother was beautiful,” she breathes quietly. “God smiled on that boy. He looks nothing like his father.”

The dull panic that’s already started to pulse in your chest sharpens to a point.

She has to be hallucinating.  

She has to be taking too much medicine because nothing she’s saying makes any sense.  You fumble for the bottles on her nightstand, pulling off the caps and pouring the pills out onto the tabletop.  You count them over and over until you’re satisfied your mother hasn’t taken a dangerous amount of drugs.

“Eomma, why are you talking about Kim Namjoon?” you plead. “Help me understand.”

But when you look back to your mother, you realize your words are already falling on deaf ears. She’s slipped back into a sleep state once again.

If only it were that easy for you.

When you finally get to crawl into bed a short while later, you toss and turn all night.  

Somewhere in the haze between asleep and awake you dream of Kim Namjoon.

*************************

Your mother’s mental clarity is always better in the morning.  

After she’s had a night of rest -- and whatever medicine she’s taken has had some time to wear off -- she’s much more alert, much more like her old self.  But you still weren’t able to get anything by way of answers out of her as you made breakfast this morning.

You’d made her favorite cold cucumber soup before carefully broaching the subject of last night’s strange conversation.  You’d waited patiently for some kind of explanation about why she mentioned a man she hasn’t spoken of in years.

It didn’t come.

There was something odd about the way your mother went completely quiet at your mention of Namjoon.  Something odd about how adamant she was about not having any memory of the conversation at all.

That odd look on her face is the one thought on your mind as you make your way to work in a complete fog.  You slip into an open elevator and hit the button for your floor on autopilot.

You don’t even realize that you’re not alone until a soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

“I remember you.”

Your eyes flick up from their unseeing stare at your shoes to a young woman standing against the elevator’s back wall.  

“Miss Kim,” you breathe, brushing an errant hair out of your face.  Your cheeks are still stinging from the cold. “Good morning.”

Namjoon’s sister is a beautiful woman, without a doubt — but until this moment, you hadn’t realized how much she resembles her brother.  They have the same striking features, the same smooth skin and high cheekbones and full lips.  

They share the same dark, kind eyes.

“I remember you now,” she repeats, mouth curving into a smile.  “I knew I recognized you, but it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I finally connected the dots.”

“Well, I wasn’t around a lot when we were kids,” you admit shyly. “So that’s certainly understandable.”

“That’s true,” she agrees.  “And I try not to think back to those times a lot but you made an impression on me.  You were always so sweet.”

Your cold cheeks seem to warm at her compliment.

“Thank you.”

The elevator stops at her floor but she seems reluctant to end the conversation.  She leans against the door to prop it open.

“My brother,” she asks carefully, “Is he treating you well?  Is he a fair boss?”

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Well, he’s not my boss anymore,” you admit.  “He replaced me not long ago.  But yes, he was very fair when I worked for him.”

Her lips part in a soft gesture of surprise when you deliver that news.  

She’s quiet until the elevator blares a loud reminder that it’s time to close the doors.  She smiles at you on her way out the door, opting not to comment on the quality of her brother’s staffing decisions.  

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she murmurs. “But I’m still really glad you’re here.”

****************************

An inviting scent is the first thing you notice when you get home that night.  

The second thing you notice are the voices.

You make your way down the long hallway with careful steps, trying to place the sound of the voice coming from your mother’s bedroom.  It doesn’t sound like Mrs. Sim -- in fact, it doesn’t sound like anyone you know.

You stop short at the sight that greets you when you round the corner.

A woman -- a complete stranger is in your mother’s room.

You stand frozen in shock as you watch the stranger read to your mother from her seated position in the chair next to the bed.  She looks up from the page when she realizes you’re there, giving you a better look at her pleasant, aged face.

“Aish,” she startles, clapping a hand over her chest.  “Here I was, worried about scaring you and instead you’re the one giving me a fright.”

It takes you a moment to find your voice.

“Forgive me,” you start weakly, “But who are you?  And how did you get into this house?”

The woman stands to adjust the pillow under your mother’s head before meeting you in the doorway.  “She’s resting now,” she says, nodding at your mother’s still form on the bed.  “Why don’t we talk in the kitchen?”

Should you be screaming right now? Calling the police?  

There’s no good explanation for why you do neither and decide instead to follow this complete stranger into your kitchen instead.  She walks to the stove to stir whatever she has cooking in the pot.

“Get off those feet,” she admonishes kindly. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

Again you comply, inexplicably following orders.  

“I made Budae Jjigae,” she explains, ladling some of the stew into a bowl.  She sets it down in front of you, and you stare back at her like an idiot.  The stew smells amazing, and you’re immediately hit with a well-timed hunger pang.

“Who are you?” you ask again.

“My name is Jinjoo,” she replies sweetly, handing you a spoon.  “And I work for you now.”

“You work for me,” you repeat slowly.

“I do,” Jinjoo nods.  “Mister Kim hired me.”

The spoon clatters loudly against the lip of the bowl when you drop it.  For a moment, it’s hard to breathe. You have to wait for the strange sensation that snakes up your spine to subside before you speak again.

“Mister Kim.”  You echo her again, dumbly.

Jinjoo takes a seat next to you at the table, radiating a patient kindness that makes you want to give into the urge to trust her.  She smiles reassuringly at you, voice soothing when she speaks again.

“Yes. He said you needed help with your mother, and I can understand why.  I nursed in hospitals for decades, dear.  I can see your mother is in a bad way.”

You blink back at Jinjoo in stunned silence.

“I assure you, I’ll give your mother the best quality care,” she vows, patting one of your hands with her own.  “And Mister Kim has already paid me well in advance, so don’t even think about trying to get rid of me.”

That statement almost makes you laugh.  

You don’t want to get rid of Jinjoo at all.  Ten minutes ago you had no idea she existed and in the span of one conversation she’s become one of the most important people you know.  Tears well in your eyes as you stare into your bowl of stew, at a total loss for words.  

Jinjoo seems to sense how overwhelmed you are.  She gives you some space to process what’s going on, stroking one soft hand over your shoulder when she stands to leave.

“Eat something, dear.  I’m gonna go sit with your mother for a while.”

You look up at her with watery eyes and nod, reaching for the spoon.

“This smells really good,” you say softly.

“Well, I’m a great cook.  You’ll see,” she promises.

“Jinjoo -- “ you call out after her as she walks away.  “Thank you,” you manage, voice thick with emotion.  “I can’t thank you enough.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle when her mouth curves into a smile.

“You’re welcome.”

**********************

Jinjoo’s stew was delicious -- not that you had the chance to fully appreciate it.  

You’d sat in that kitchen alone for some time, eating slowly while you tried to process yet another bombshell in what seemed to be a series of them.  Everything that’s happened to you since Namjoon reassigned you has been a whirlwind; from the sudden pay raise to the sudden arrival of Jinjoo.

You eat the last of the stew with your stomach in knots.

Namjoon knows your mother is sick.  And you don’t know how to feel about it.

A part of you feels exposed when you think about him uncovering the sad details of your mother’s health battle. But knowing that he stepped in to help you fight it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in years.  

Cared for.

The sound of laughter from your mother’s bedroom echoes down the hall and you stand to follow it.  

Her favorite variety show is playing on the small TV in front of her bed, and it appears Jinjoo is a fan, too.  You lean in the doorway and watch the women giggle at the silly skit.  It’s been a long time since you’ve heard the sound of your mother’s laugh.  

It makes you smile.

“Jinjoo, could you give us a moment, please?”

You almost hate to interrupt the instant camaraderie between the two women but you recognize that your mother is in the midst of a rare moment of clarity.  You have to strike while the iron is hot.

“Of course,” she agrees, standing.

You wait until the sound of her footsteps fades away before taking her place in the worn chair next to your mother’s bed.  Your mother smiles at you, taking one of your hands into her own.  

You squeeze her fingers gently.

“Eomma, no more secrets,” you murmur.  “Tell me the truth.  Did Kim Namjoon come here?”

Your mother swallows thickly before nodding.

“He asked me not to tell you,” she admits.  “He said he didn’t want you to refuse his help.”

You shut your eyes and imagine Namjoon in your home, in this room. Speaking to your mother.  Making plans to send Jinjoo.  Your chest squeezes so tight that for a moment it’s hard to breathe.

“Okay,” you concede quietly.  You maintain the appearance of careful calm because you don’t want to make your mother feel worse than she already does., “It’s alright Eomma, I’m not angry, I promise.”

A peculiar look passes over her face.  Her eyes dart away from yours and that’s all it takes for you to know you don’t have the full story.  You decide to toughen your stance.

“Look at me, Eomma,” you say firmly.  “If there’s anything I don’t know, you need to tell me right now.  I need to know all of it.  Everything.”

“I -- “

“Just tell me what it is,” you repeat, patience hanging by a thread.

Your mother sighs, lifting one weak hand in the direction of her dresser.  You turn to stare at the pile of papers stacked there, realization dawning in an instant.  You move on unsteady legs to walk over and take hold of them.

Radiology, pulmonology, chemotherapy.  

You know exactly how much is owed on each of those bills because the numbers are burned into your mind. Those numbers are the reason you leave your mother for hours on end every day to go to work.  Those numbers are the reason why it’s so hard to sleep at night.

You don’t realize that your hands are shaking until you hear the papers rustling.

Every bill bears the same neat, handwritten marking.

paid -- knj

***************************

NAMJOON

Namjoon watched his sister leave early tonight with Hoseok. Seokjin is out to dinner with his wife.  And Yoongi is off doing -- well, whatever the hell Yoongi does when he’s not around.

There’s no one here tonight to tell Namjoon to go home.  No one to point out that he’s had too much to drink or that it’s happening far too often.

So he pours another scotch.

The glass sweats in his hand as he stands in front of his window, deep in thought.

Thinking about you.

Thinking about the way you struggled in silence, caring for your mother alone -- too proud to ask for help. The way you catered to Namjoon’s every need and whim without ever making mention of yours.  The way he’d let it go on for far too long, selfishly wrapped up in the way you made him feel.

“That girl is going to get you killed.”

Namjoon tells himself the sound of your voice is a figment of his imagination, an entirely predictable side-effect of too much scotch.  But it’s followed quickly by your soft footsteps against the plush carpet in his office and both sounds are too real to ignore.

He turns to assess you, quietly sipping his drink.

Fuck, you are beautiful.  

You have no right turning up here tonight -- looking like that -- testing him when he is at his weakest.  Your dark eyes flash with something like a challenge and Namjoon feels his blood warm.

“That girl is never at her desk and she has no idea who’s coming or going,” you accuse quietly.  “She’s putting you at risk.”

Namjoon concedes your point with a slow half-smirk that teases the edge of his mouth.

“Perhaps,” he admits.  “But there are different kinds of risk.  Maybe you put me at risk, too.”

He shouldn’t take pleasure from the way your eyes go wide at that statement.  Or from the way you overcompensate by standing taller, chin lifted high.

But he does.

“Mister Kim -- “ you start.

“ -- Namjoon,” he interrupts.  ��Don’t you think it’s time you called me Namjoon? Haven’t we known one another since we were kids?”

“Namjoon,” you correct yourself, taking a deep breath. “I know about everything.  Jinjoo, the bills, all of it.”

Namjoon says nothing for a moment, draining his glass before setting it down on his desk with a heavy thud.

“Why?” you ask quietly.  “Why did you do this for me?”

Because I would do anything for you.  

He doesn’t voice that thought out loud.  He knows he shouldn’t.

But he also knows he shouldn’t be closing the distance between you right now, and he’s doing that anyway.  He steps closer, quietly, and you swallow hard, thrown by his silence and his advance.

“That’s not -- that’s not something you do for an employee,” you protest, slowly backing away.  You stop only when the ledge of his desk hits you on the backside.  

“The late nights and the extra hours.  Everything else you did,” Namjoon murmurs, stepping close, chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.  “Did you do that for your boss?  Or did you do that for me?”

He leans closer, caging your body against his desk.  Your lips part in surprise and Namjoon forces himself not to react when your tongue slips out to wet them.

“Namjoon, I -- ” your voice is barely above a whisper when you find it.  “-- I don’t understand you right now.”

“How could I have every resource at my fingertips and not help you?” he asks, reaching one hand out to cup your face.  The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips and you shudder under his touch.  “Why didn’t you come to me when you knew I could help?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, pupils blown and cheeks flushed.

“You should have come to me,” he admonishes quietly.  You lean into the touch of his hand.  “I would have given you anything you asked for. Anything.”

“I understand that,” you say quietly, the tremor in your voice betraying your attempt at calm.  “Because I would give you anything you asked for, too.”

Something about the way you say that snaps Namjoon back to reality.  

He looks down at you like he’s only just now realized that he’s loaded on scotch, leaning you over his desk -- and well on his way to taking advantage of this situation.  He tenses, pulling away.

“This is -- this is not --” he sputters pathetically for a moment.  “Go home,” he pleads.  “Please.”

He’s never hated himself as much as he does right now -- when you’re looking up at him with hurt and confusion in those wide, dark eyes.

“Go home before I do something I can’t take back.”

************************

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[dear-mrs-otome]

Johann Georg Faust - 2nd Birthday (His POV) - Yet Another Terrible Summary

(Faust: "...The children will wake up.")

Here is my irreverent, only nominally-guaranteed accurate rendition of Faust’s 2nd birthday story in his POV.

(We start with a one-liner, ‘narrator voice’ Faust saying how he had learned from a very young age that the world was an absurd place.)

It’s February 28th, and at his church, MC has arrived with a bag she offers him, claiming they’re delicious treats she wanted to share. He asks if she’s there to celebrate his birthday, pointing out to her there’s no February 29th this year. She deflates, grumbling that she hadn’t expected him to see through things so quickly, and he tells her that if she does something like that out of the blue of course he’s going to wonder why.

He can’t believe she’s trying again, after he’d told her last year he didn’t want to celebrate and that the day was meaningless - it’s merely the day he was found after having been abandoned as a baby. No sentimentality to it. But he can also clearly recall the way she’d told him last year she wanted him to be happy on his birthday...and bemused by that sentiment still, he takes the proffered bag.

He says that if it’s a gift, he’ll take it because he can think of someone it’ll make happy. MC finally notices the small child hovering around when he says this, and she has a spittake moment of ILLEGITIMATE KIDDO?? Faust teases her about having a very wild imagination, causing her to sputter, and he pinches her cheeks lightly at her flailings before he hands the bag of candy off to the little boy.

The child seem incredulous at the gift, but MC assures him she’d be happy if he ate it, and she asks him his name. The boy tells her it is Hugo in a small voice. She asks Hugo if he’s from around here, but Faust answers for him - he says he is, but he’s due to circumstances he’s about to take the child to the orphanage now.

MC surprises him by asking if it’s no bother, can she come along too? He tells her it makes no matter to him - wondering to himself if she’s worried about the kiddo. She thanks him, and urges little Hugo to get ready to go, his little hand fast in hers.

They’re greeted by the orphanage matron when they arrive, who kindly welcomes Hugo to his new home. MC hands the boy off with a soft look, and Faust is all in a hurry to leave now that his duty is done...when one of the orphan children notices the priest and the lady and calls out to them.

Spotted, Faust thinks, and no sooner has the first kid called out than the rest of the kids come running over as well, all crowding around him and clamoring for them to stay and play.

Faust immediately shuts the idea down, but MC cajoles that if they have time, they should stay and play. He warns her that she will only regret the idea - when they’re interrupted by the matron asking if they wouldn’t mind actually? She’s short-handed on help and needs to step out to get some things but can’t leave the kids unattended.

She really is not taking no for an answer, and thus Faust and MC find themselves babysitting the orphanage until she returns.

Some time later, Faust is pulling an ‘I told you so’ on an exhausted MC, who’s been run ragged by the eager children. She flops to a seat, and looks up at him soberly, where he’d just picked up a child and put them to sleep. She observes that he’s good with the children, and he says he has practice - he used to take care of some a long time ago.

He spares a moment to wonder to himself how many of them grew up to lead out their lives, given how life in an orphanage long ago was far from easy. Then as he’s looking out over the children he realizes they’re short one, and says as much aloud.

MC and he go searching, and shortly they find Hugo outside near the gates, huddled and shivering in the cold winter air. Faust realizes this is more than simply being sad about his new surroundings, and it’s MC tries to herd him inside so he doesn’t catch a cold.

But little Hugo balks, and he says no, he wants to stay here - if he caught a cold and died, would he meet his mom and dad in heaven?

Faust realizes from the stunned expression on MC’s face that she’s finally understood the truth of Hugo’s situation. His parents both had died in an accident and he was forced to enter the orphanage when no one came to collect him after the funeral. Faust thinks it’s not unreasonable for Hugo to be saddened, but…

“There’s no guarantee you’ll meet someone who has passed on. It’s pointless to choose death for that,” he tells Hugo. “Unless of course someone were to be dissected after death for posterity...then their death wouldn’t be a total waste.”

MC sputters at him for saying such a thing to a child, but Faust is remorseless, still thinking it’s foolish to have any hopes or expectations for after death. As a priest, he often tells people that ‘those who pass on are ushered into the kingdom of heaven’...but he himself has never seen Heaven, or God provide any sort of salvation.

Hugo wonders aloud why his mom and dad had to die? Why did God decide such a thing?

Faust tells him that the world is an absurd place and urges him that if he has any sort of doubts, to think about how he can live in defiance of his destiny...rather than letting winter’s cold choose life or death for him. He takes his jacket off and slips it over those tiny shoulders, and watches as MC wipes away the tears that fall from Hugo’s eyes, comforting him.

He thinks...that he cannot recall what sadness is, what it feels like anymore. But he can tell how incredibly warm the hand MC slips into Hugo’s is.

After they’ve gotten the children all settled for their nap, MC replaces Faust’s jacket with a blanket on the sleeping Hugo and turns to him, holding it as she stares at him. He finally asks her, what?? And she asks what sort of children it was he’d spent time with in the past.

Faust teases her about asking something out of the blue like that, and for being so keenly interested - startling him when she unapologetically agrees that she does want to know about him, and if he tells her she’ll return his jacket.

Faust grumbles that it’s a lame deal, given that it’s not a fun story to hear...but he doesn’t get the impression that she’s asking out of idle curiosity or a whim alone, so he indulges her. He tells her that when he was a baby, he was found by an older nun and grew up in an orphanage located in an old church. He says that they were terribly poor, but he survived, and when he got older he helped take care of the other children. Many of them would die before winter’s end, or disappear after being taken in by foster parents.

Eventually, he was fostered out himself and the nun who raised him died of an illness, and the orphanage was closed. End of story.

He thinks that the abbreviated version he told her was the parts that didn’t hurt...but she still looks up at him with a sadness in her eyes when she asks what sort of woman was the nun?

Faust says that she was incredibly kind, too kind to ignore an abandoned child, and probably too compassionate for her own good.

He thinks how she was kind up until the very end, giving and giving of herself to anyone….and he recalls a time when she’d come to him.

“Thank you for taking care of everyone, Johann” she had said. “But why don’t you put the books down and go play?”

“It’s fine. Even if I make friends with them, they will all leave someday,” he had told her.

“Johann...The reason why you never cry is because you keep your sadness locked away…”

He can still see the sad smile she had worn and hear the conversation they’d had, rising to the surface of a sea of old memories. He coldly waits for those lingering remnants to pass...when his reverie is interrupted by MC telling him she’s thankful the woman found little Faust. That even if the world is an absurd place, she’s happy to be able to celebrate his birthday with him now.

Her words stun him into silence, leaving him only able to stare at her faint smile. He’d never thought of it that way - the consideration to be thankful for such a thing. Her words shed a new light on his cold memories, and sneak their way into his heart.

He teases her though, saying that she speaks of odd things and he wonders if she’s merely angling to dig through people’s pasts and root out their weaknesses. A sputtering MC vehemently denies she’d do such a thing and accuses him of being a smartass, and righteously stomps towards him to shove the jacket back at him...when she steps on a stray toy block, loses her footing, and crashes into him.

They both tumble to the ground, her atop him, and she’s staring down at him wide-eyed as she beings babbling apologies - only to have them fade into muffled sounds when he quickly reaches up and presses her face onto his chest to stifle her voice.

“You’ll wake the children,” he warns her...though he pauses a moment to linger on the soft feel of her cheek on his bare skin, where his shirt has fallen into disorder. He’s thinking, this woman is unbelievable, as he chides her for such - sighing heavily and asking if she gets a kick out of bothering him.

But he’s getting a kick out of her blushing face and her averted eyes, the sight stirring his mean streak enough that he can’t let the opportunity to give her a hard time pass. He teases her about being the one with the red face when she pushed him down...and is amused by her appalled reaction. He says she’s something else to straddle a man with a face like that, right next to a bunch of sleeping children...and he strokes his hands up the thighs that bracket his hips, enjoying the little sigh she lets out.

The moment is broken by a soft sound from one of the children tossing in their sleep, and MC leaps off him like a scalded cat. The whole situation is so incredibly absurd that Faust can’t help laughing, even if it’s met by a glare from MC as she asks him what is so funny.

He’s still chuckling as he points out her reaction, and how amusing it all was...all the while thinking, it has been a very long time since he has laughed so much. He slips back on the jacket she shoves at him, and tells her that he never gets tired of watching her - he wants to keep her close at hand, so he can observe her always.

His words have her turning her face away, but the look in her eyes before she does makes him happy. He wants to know more about her, he thinks. What manner of things would he discover, if he caught her and kept her all to himself, and figured out what made her tick? Her presence in this world, that he looks at through such cold eyes, stirs his heart.

FIN

(many thanks as always to @mikotomizuki for giving this a second set of eyes!)

[summerdazed]

Hi, how are you doing? Uh, this is my first time asking so I'm a bit embarrassed. But if you have the time and energy can you write relationship headcannons on sushi and bird if their S/O is South Asian (or just a foreigner in general). Thanks and please take care of yourself!

Oooh I like this request! However, I’m sorry but I will not be writing a South Asian S/O because I really don’t want to offend anyone. So these will be from a foreigner’s perspective with some American things thrown in since that’s the thing I’m most familiar with. If you just don’t like it at all feel free to request something else and I’ll try again!

244 and Seongjoon with a foreigner S/O

244

Honestly I can only think of three places you ever run into this man and those are on a run, wherever the hell he gets his animals from, or maybe buying cosmetics. Either way, he’s going to take note of you but you’ll probably have to keep coming around or do something to catch his interest.

You’re going to think I’m lame and cheesy but I love it when future lovers have their first meeting by running into each other. So, birdie here is probably best case scenario for that though it might annoy him slightly. But hey it gives you a chance to ask him for coffee or something!

Anyway, probably interested in where you’re from and your culture not just because he probably does something like a background check on you but just because.

He’s pretty busy but would definitely celebrate a holiday or something with you if you asked. In return would show you some things specific to Korea but I don’t really see him as going out of his way to do that. If you ask though he will.

Presents. Ask for it and it’s probably yours. Especially if it’s makeup or pretty clothes. He likes it when you dress up for him what can I say?

Imagine if his cute little bird liked you better than him? Hilarious. One of the few times you see a negative expression on his face. I doubt you’ll know anything about the XJ Company but let’s say you go on a date to Sushi’s restaurant and the bird is on your shoulder or something when you walk in. Sushi obviously going to notice and mentions something to 244 much to his ire

If he doesn’t like your skincare and makeup routine he’s buying you new products and changing it whether you like it or not. Probably makes you sit through lessons so you know what you’re doing. Lmao I had a funny thought! He makes you run through your new routine then grades you at the end

I mean I know he’s rich and successful but are you sure you want to take this man home to visit your parents? If so you better just have them fly to you. All expenses paid by your lovely boyfriend of course.

Obviously is going to make a great impression regardless because he already has multiple masks to wear for work so what’s another one to impress your family?

Now here’s a fun little thought I had. Now he probably keeps you away from whatever work he’s doing for one reason or another. Let’s say though that you start putting two and two together and start snooping. Granted, I doubt this bitch has a paper trail but don’t be surprised when he turns on you after he finds out. And you can honestly kiss your home county and family goodbye cause you ain’t seeing it again

Anyway, overall 7/10. And don’t come for me cause I love this man but he’s only going to be interested where you came from and all the things like that to a certain extent. 10/10 cause he’s sexy as hell and my type

Seongjoon

After the last chapter this last chapter, I have seen him in a new light and have converted into a shark simp. That being said I apologize if these are short or seem off.

What do you know he’s a foreigner too! You, however, won’t know that. Most likely anyway.

Let’s say you went to K-star and met him there. To catch his eye you would have to act the complete opposite from his many adoring fans. So let me set the stage, you and your friend went to go see their favorite newtuber in person. You thought that really the only reason he’s famous is because he’s pretty and we’re being very vocal about it. Now fish boy probably just ignore you at first but if you kept it up he would eventually say something. And that’s how mommy and daddy met-

Okay so I’m sorry to break it to you but he wouldn’t care that much about where your from. Would definitely jot it down cause it sounds like he records and has records of everything.

Would begrudgingly celebrate holidays. Please for the love of god force this man into an ugly ass Christmas sweater and take a picture. Of course he’d make you delete it but that’s why you don’t clean out your recently deleted folder

Best person to share a bed with. Such a pretty sleeper and doesn’t hog blankets. Two problems though. Man is a fucking furnace and sometimes takes up too much room. That’s when you just shrug off the blankets and lay on top of him or you’re either going to be on the floor or smushed

Tbh this man probably smells like fish so I hope you like seafood bby no I will not elaborate further

Doesn’t let you cook. Ever. Why would you even need to when you have a sexy chef boyfriend that can take off his shirt if you ask nicely

Best partner to take home to mom and dad. I mean look at him. He’s perfect and will make sure everything goes perfectly

I could see him flying to your home to meet your parents. Especially to reenforce that he is a good boyfriend and great husband material

I don’t think it would happen very often and you two would have to be extremely close but he sometimes lets you play with his hair and tells you little slivers of his past

Overall 8/10. Hot and mostly well mannered

————

So uh I really don’t know how to feel about these but I hope they’re long enough and you like them dear anon

[ptergwen]

let’s just pretend

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: rom com references, drinking, and a little bit of angst

summary: you cope with your feelings for peter by getting drunk on halloween

a/n: ok i really really love this and i loved writing it too? it’s the first like original idea i’ve had in a while so maybe that’s why but yeah i hope y’all enjoy and that this puts you in a halloweenish mood :-)

-

there’s something about fall that makes you nostalgic. the same images pop into your head whenever you hear the word october. pumpkin patches, colorful leaves, and hot coffee. it reminds you of being a kid. only when you were a kid, all you could think about this time of year was what you were going to be for halloween.

you’d spend weeks getting your costume together and coordinating with all your friends. trick or treating was literally the only thing that mattered. if you wanted to get good candy, you had to have a good costume.

the high school version of candy is alcohol. everyone just goes to parties so they can drink the whole night. no one even dresses up usually. you personally would rather have chocolate than cheap beer. your whole friend group agrees on that.

that’s why you decided to throw your own party this year. anyone who misses the old halloween can come hang out. so far it’s only peter, mj, ned, betty, and the rest of the decathlon team coming. betty invited everyone for you. she also asked liz, but she’s going to flash’s party. he only gets so many people because his parents are never home and don’t care if he raids the liquor cabinet. whatever.

you’re out finding something to wear with peter and mj a few hours before it starts. ned and betty already picked their costumes. she’s going as an angel, and he’s going as the devil. you think they should switch. they’re out shopping for snacks while the three of you hit up spirit halloween.

mj groans every single second there’s silence, and peter keeps getting scared by the motion sensor decorations. he eventually ends up having to go somewhere in the store that doesn’t have any. so, it’s a lot.

“why don’t you be a vampire?” mj asks in her fake interested voice, taking a pair of fangs off the rack in front of her. you scoff. “i think i did that in sixth grade.” she puts them back with a huff. “witch?” she’s just suggesting every costume she sees so you can get out of here. her lack of enthusiasm makes you want to take longer.

“no.”

“zookeeper?”

“eh.”

“what about cat in the hat?”

“mj, what? no.”

“uh... school girl?”

“ok, that’s just offensive.”

“you’re right. why do they have that?” she eyes the costume suspiciously. you cover it up with a random cloak that fell onto the floor. you’re never going to find anything at this point. maybe it’s a sign you’re too old for this. just when you’re about to lose all hope, peter comes over.

he’s holding up the plaid yellow skirt and blazer cher wears in clueless. it’s one of the most iconic rom com outfits. you grab it with a gasp, peter giving you a knowing smile. “oh my god! wait, where did you find this?” “they have a section with movie stuff.” there’s a han solo costume in his other hand.

you throw an arm around his neck for a quick hug. peter squeezes you and chuckles when he pulls away. it gets a sigh out of mj.

“sure you don’t wanna be the guy she ends up with?” she elbows peter’s arm. the two of you share a disgusted look. “josh? ew, he’s her ex stepbrother,” you dismiss her. “they’re, like, related,” peter adds. mj rolls her eyes almost to the back of her head and starts to walk away. “someone needs to unplug both of your tv’s.” you and peter follow after her.

of course she would suggest a couple’s costume. she was probably trying to make you both get weird. you’re always being teased for spending so much time together. even your parents and may make little comments about it. you can’t help the fact that you have almost everything in common.

peter is the only person your age who doesn’t try so hard to be cool. when you’re with him, you can be the biggest nerd and wear fluffy pajamas and play with legos. it’s a judgement free friendship.

you’ll admit you’ve wanted it to become a judgement free relationship. there’s no way he doesn’t feel your heart beating against him when you cuddle during movie nights. he has to notice your goofy smile whenever he calls you a nickname.

but, it could all be platonic in peter’s mind. maybe he sees you as more of a sister. that would make josh the perfect costume to go with you as cher.

you shutter and try to push the idea out of your mind for the rest of your time at spirit halloween.

it’s almost time for the party to start when you get back to your house. your parents let betty and ned in to start setting up on their way out. they’re going for dinner so they aren’t around to embarrass you. you have until midnight, then there’s nothing you can do. that gives you four hours.

mj is changing into the coraline costume you made her get, which she actually doesn’t hate. betty is helping you do some last minute decorating. peter and ned are putting out snacks. it’s a really good system you have.

“love the the plaid, y/n. you look so fetch!” betty compliments in between throwing fake cobwebs over your couch. you snort and finish stringing up some lights. “wrong movie, but thanks.” “oh. oops,” she shrugs and gets back to cobwebbing. “peter found it for me.” all the lights are up, so you go to plug them in. betty giggles on your way over.

your living room has an orange glow to it now. dusting your hands off, you admire your work. the moment of admiration ends when you notice how betty is looking at you. “what?” “peter found it for you,” she repeats suggestively. “when he was getting his costume, yeah,” you say like it’s nothing because it is nothing.

“so, what i’m hearing is he wanted to see you in a skirt.” you furrow your eyebrows at her. “what? no, he just-“ she wiggles her own eyebrows at you. you’re going to start sweating if you talk about this any longer. too aware of yourself now, you pull down your skirt and trudge over to the stairs. “i’m gonna go check on mj.”

you’re in the middle of convincing her she looks great and to leave your room when everyone calls your name downstairs.

“what?” you shout back from behind the closed door. “you should get down here.” it’s only peter this time. mj widens her eyes at you, but you’re gone before she can say she isn’t wearing this again.

you make your way down the stairs. the three of them are huddled in front of the door. “is someone here?” you mouth, ned looking off to the side awkwardly. they all move out of the way so you can see who it is. it’s flash. you’re obviously surprised to see him at your house, especially since he’s supposed to be having his own party right now.

“um, what are you doing here?” you try not to sound mean. “didn’t you invite the whole decathlon team? i’m on it.” you’d forgotten about that. peter says he’s only an alternate. flash side steps past you to get inside. you didn’t say he could come in. he heads straight to the chip bowl on your living room coffee table. you’re left shaking your head in pure confusion.

“dude, kick him out,” ned whispers to you. you wave your hand dismissively and walk over. he’s kicking his legs up on the table when you get there. “dope outfit. you look good.” he winks and crunches on a tostito. peter is clenching his jaw, but no one sees. “why are you in my house, flash?” you push the bowl away from him. “oh, yeah. my parents came home from vegas early.”

mj finally gets downstairs, squinting at whatever is going on with you while she walks over to everyone else. “i thought we could combine parties.” flash eyes your friends in a way you don’t like. “all your guests are pretty much here, so don’t worry about space.”

you look back at peter to see what he thinks. he shakes his head no. betty is nodding her head so fast you’re pretty sure she’s going to get whiplash. ned agrees with whatever she thinks, and mj doesn’t care. majority rules. plus, you could use one of flash’s playlists to liven things up. how bad could it really be?

“text everyone my address.”

people are flooding your house in the next fifteen minutes. like, your entire grade might be here. flash hooks his phone up to your speakers and blasts his songs. people grab fistfuls of candy and dance around. you’re running low on soda, but one guy brought extra drinks. alcoholic drinks, which you’re uneasy about. that was a big reason why you wanted to have your own party in the first place.

you don’t want to be a lame host, so you let it slide. a girl is sitting on top of your kitchen counter making out with someone. people are yelling so loud you can’t make out a single conversation. this is all going on and yet somehow, the most surprising thing is that they came in costume. some are more casual, like cat ears and lifeguard hoodies. it still counts.

feeling a little bit lost in your own house, you search for peter. he’s sitting on the top stair just watching what’s going on. you get his attention by throwing a mini packet of sour patch kids at him. he catches it, grinning when he realizes you did that. “i love these.” “good. they were the only ones left.” you take a seat next to him and scratch at the material of his vest for emphasis.

“i can’t believe you said yes to him.” peter opens the sour patch kids. the first one is yellow, so he offers it to you. sharing food with him always works because you each seem to like what the other doesn’t. “neither can i, but i think betty would’ve actually hurt me if i didn’t,” you joke while chewing. he rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “please. she’s too nice.”

you lean your head on peter’s shoulder and grab another gummy. he pokes your arm in protest. “this bag is small. get your own.” you’re nuzzling your cheek against him. “i told you they’re gone.” he’s about to put an arm around you when someone screams downstairs. you quickly sit up.

“i’m gonna go see what the hell that was. i’ll find you later?” peter does his best to hide his disappointment. “yeah, of course. good luck.” you clench your teeth and run down the stairs. this is somehow flash’s fault.

it’s been an hour and a half, and peter is nowhere to be seen. the chaos was just that someone really liked the song that was playing. it didn’t take you long to figure that out. when you went to tell peter, he was gone. you’ve looked everywhere for him since, except the backyard.

a pretty big group of people is out here either playing catch or talking. someone also brought a case of beer outside. you spot mj huddled up by the fence with a bottle. it doesn’t necessarily surprise you. it’s weird to see, either way.

“have you seen peter?” you walk up to her. she uses the bottle to gesture somewhere. he’s in the middle of a conversation with liz. your entire body feels like it’s collapsing into itself. it didn’t cross your mind she would be coming even when the party moved to your house.

she’s nice and all. you don’t have any issues with her. not that she knows about, at least. peter had the biggest crush on her for about a month, then it fizzled out. that’s what he told you. unless, he said that to save face.

you’re speechless. mj figured you would be. she gives you a sympathetic smile and holds out her beer. “yep. drink up.” your instincts tell you to take it, so you do. she heads back inside and leaves you alone with your thoughts. that’s not good for you. the only to way to get rid of them is by chugging the rest of this bottle.

you’ve never had your own drink before, and technically you aren’t now. this is still the most alcohol you’ll ever have in your system. before you can change your mind, you take a generous swig. it’s bitter. you don’t hate it as much as you expected to, though.

your eyes land on liz touching peter’s shoulder. that inspires your next big gulp of beer. you finish off the rest, and it hits you fast. you’re understanding why this is such a popular vice. you don’t feel anything but how tipsy you are. light and floaty. you decide to stumble back into the kitchen and find out what other drinks people brought.

the bright color of your costume catches peter’s attention. he was wondering where you were. excusing himself from liz, he follows you in. you bump into betty on your way to the punch bowl someone filled. she’s holding a red solo cup with the mystery liquid. both of you buzzed, you laugh and grab her arm.

“sorry. s- sorry.” you’re squeezing behind her, her angel wings brushing against your face in the process. you have to weave through everyone to make it to the drink table. peter meets you there when you’re getting a cup. he’s shocked.

“y/n?” smiling lazily, you take a sip. “hey, peter. pete.” the sober voice in your head tells you to stop talking. he probably shouldn’t know you’re drunk. then again, your cup gives it away. “y/n, have you been drinking?” he sounds concerned. everything is funny to you right now. you giggle out a “yes.”

peter doesn’t want to be that person, but you’re not acting right. he reaches for your drink. you pull it away too abruptly, and some of it spills onto the floor. “you... you’re so...“ you start losing your balance. “woah.” peter wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. he takes the drink out of your hand and sets it on the table.

frowning, he throws your arm around his shoulders so he can help you get upstairs. “come on, y/n/n.” you don’t argue this time. you’re at the part of being drunk where it doesn’t feel good anymore. peter holds you close to his side and walks you out of the kitchen. he stops to talk to ned for a second.

“hey, man. y/n’s parents are gonna be home soon. could you get everyone out?” he says into his ear. “why can’t she do it?” peter moves out of the way so he’s not blocking you. ned sees. you’re completely faded. “oh, shit. is she okay?” he whisper yells. “i’m gonna take care of her.” “i’ll tell everyone to go.” peter presses his lips into a tight smile, then he’s taking you up to your room.

you flop down onto your bed face first. peter shuts the door behind you. “you okay?” he chuckles, you nodding with your face smushed into the comforter. he’d think it was cute if you weren’t piss drunk. gently nudging you, he moves you so you’re on your back.

“let’s get you out of this.” “ooh, betty was right. you do like me in a skirt,” you giggle and bat your eyelashes at him. he huffs. “no, i mean you have to put on pajamas.” you’re pouting now. “you don’t like me in a skirt?” after going through your drawers, he comes back over with a big t-shirt and fuzzy pants. “i never said that.”

you grin again and grab them from him. “ha.” “do you need help changing?” he sits at the edge of your bed. you’re still laying down. he’s not sure you can handle getting up. “no. don’t be creepy,” you say completely serious. peter has to remind himself you’re drunk. “you were the one who thought i wanted you naked, but ok.”

making peter close his eyes, you peel the costume off your body. you got pretty sweaty. you kick everything onto the floor and start putting on your pajamas. your head gets stuck in an arm hole by accident, so peter has to fix that. the rest is fine. he’s about to bring you into the bathroom to brush your teeth, but you face plant into his lap. you’re out.

the next morning, you wake up feeling like ass. your breath is hot and tastes disgusting. your head is pounding. you could throw up. you’re not even sure how you ended up in your bed. then, you notice peter sitting at your desk. he must have helped you in.

a vague memory of him tucking you under the covers while you whined comes back to you, along with a few others. one of them is of him and liz. the whole reason you did this to yourself.

“hey.” your voice comes out hoarse. “hi.” peter nods and points to your night table. there’s a fresh glass of water. you drink it all down as fast as humanely possible, a hand on your heart. it doesn’t phase him after what you did last night. you set the empty glass down and pat the spot next to you. peter sits by your side.

he’s still dressed as han solo, but his vest and belt are sprawled out on the floor. the boots are under your desk. he actually stayed all night for you.

“i think i’m hungover.” you rest your head against his arm. his body relaxes. “you didn’t drink that much. mj said she gave you half a beer,” he almost laughs, you groaning. “that means i’m a lightweight.” “for now.” your arm wrapping around his, you look up at him.

“sorry you had to deal with me. am i in trouble?” “nah, your parents don’t know. we cleaned everything up before they got home.” he lightly pats the top of your head with two fingers. you squeeze your eyes shut when he does it. “you did? thank you so much, wow.” peter nods and smiles for a second.

he lays his back against the pillow on his side. “let’s just pretend that never happened.” “you’re good at pretending,” you mumble to yourself. you’re not as quiet as you think because peter hears it. “um, what?” you feel too woozy to come up with a cover. letting out a breath, you take your head and hands off of him.

“i saw you talking with liz.” “she wanted to know if i could lead decathlon practice next week. she’s not gonna be in school,” he says slowly, not getting it. “why?” having to spell it out is making you frustrated. “didn’t you say you don’t like her anymore?” “yeah, i don’t.”

“so, why was she being all... touchy?” the jealousy is clear in your voice. peter shrugs. “that’s how liz is. i still don’t get why it matters.” you ease yourself to sit up and turn to face him. those three words you’ve been meaning to tell him are on the absolute tip of your tongue. they’re about to come out.

then...

“i like you, y/n.”

peter says them for you.

you’re so surprised you nearly vomit for real. or, it could be the possible hangover. almost a minute has gone by when you realize you’ve been sitting there with your mouth hanging open. you swallow your spit. “you... you do?” “a lot. i kept trying to tell you, but there was never a good time.” his voice is softer now.

“i realized after homecoming. i wished i went with you instead of...” he doesn’t have to finish the sentence. you nod, a small smile spreading across your face. peter’s eyes are so hopeful. “i like you, too. a lot.” your gaze trails down to his lips.

“i’d kiss you if my breath didn’t stink.” “i’ll let you owe me one.” he’s fully grinning now, and both of you laugh. they’re the kind of laughs you do because you’re so happy you don’t know what to say.

peter presses his lips to your temple, your eyes fluttering closed. “get some more sleep. i’m gonna ask you out when you wake up,” he mumbles against your hair. you grab his hand that’s resting on the comforter. “can you stay with me?” “of course.”

he lays down next to you. you pull back the covers so he can get under them. your head is resting on his chest, an arm around his torso. both of his hug your waist. you’re instantly comfortable cuddled up in his embrace. you drift off to sleep with a smile.

this feels like such a dream. it’s the exact type of situation you’d make up in your head. but, it’s real. peter is still holding you when you wake up. he’s not going anywhere.

[kpop---scenarios]

Into The Night

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You never expected to fall for the escort your friend ordered for you.

"It's a very reputable place." Jisoo smiles at you. "Very discreet. I think it would be a good place for you to go." She finishes. 

You stare at her with your mouth wide open as you try to comprehend what she had just said to you. 

"Bitch." You scoff. "Are you trying to tell me to go to a whore house to get laid?" You ask. 

"I mean, you're not the first person to do it. It's not a big deal." She says, shrugging her shoulders. "The guys are hot." She smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

You can't help but think about it for a minute. You really did need a good fuck, your vibrator can only do so much. "Fine." You say, crossing your arms. "But your ass is coming with me." You smirk, watching her face drop at what you had just said. 

"But.. I.. " she stutters. 

"No excuses, I fuck a sex worker, you fuck a sex worker. That's the deal." You laugh. You knew she would never do something like that, meaning you'd be off the hook. 

"Fine." She says. "Lets go. Now." She says, ushering you towards the door. "Now or never." 

"How about never?" You nervously giggle. 

"Or now works too. Let's go bitch." She finishes, dragging you out the front door of your apartment to a cafe down the street, to get the process started. 

Little did you know this was going to be the best, but also worst experience of your life. 

** 

Kai smiles as he says goodbye to his latest client, leaving her to relish in the orgasms he had given her, making her scream out his name. He knew he was good at what he did, that's all he was ever told he was good at, so why not make a career out of it. 

Women had always told him he was a great fuck, he had a handsome face but that would only take him so far. The words they told him always stuck with him, replaying over and over in his head. 

"You're a great fuck but thats it." 

"I could never date you. You're not good enough for me." 

It was always the same, with every woman that he met. They were always only interested in him because of his face, or his body. They never cared to get to know him or his likes and dislikes, only how many times could they cum because of him. 

Eventually he said fuck it and gave up on trying to pursue a relationship with women. He began working for an escort company, where he quickly climbed the ladder, becoming the most popular male escort. He made great money, but lived a lonely life despite being with different women. It wasn't the sex that was important to him, it was the connection, the love two people shared. That's what he craved, but he knew he wasn't enough. 

Kai's mind wanders back to just after he graduated from high-school. He had a date with a girl he had loved for the last four years and had tried time and time again to muster up the courage to ask her on a date.

"J-jennie, would you like to have dinner with me?" He asks, his fingers twiddling between each other. 

She smiled at him, but it wasn't genuine, more pitty. 

"Um sure." She half smiles. "I'll meet you at the restaurant." She says, walking away to her friends. Kai thought his heart was going to explode out from his chest. 

He was so happy. 

He wasn't your typical guy, he was shy. He was very quiet and often gave off the vibe of being an asshole, but in all honesty, you just needed to get to know him first but no one ever gave him that chance. 

His date with Jennie went well, the conversation lagged a few times but it had ended with him railing her in the back of his car. 

His muscles flex, the sweat glistening as he props himself up while he thrusts in and out of her, making her scream. 

It was the best night of his life and he thought about her everyday, until he saw her making out with some guy at a party a few days later. All eyes had been on him when he walked into the party, his arrival commencing the whispering between people and the staring.  

"W-what? I thought.. we.." he stutters, lost for words. 

She laughed. And laughed. "Look." She giggles. "You give top notch dick, but you're an asshole. You're not boyfriend material." She spits. 

Kai hangs his head low as he walks out of the party, heartbroken for the first time but not the last. 

He didn't let that one instance ruin his views on relationships and women, no, that came after the same thing happened in college. He had met Mina and she was so beautiful, smart and interesting. He was smitten with her, and when she agreed to go on a date with him, he was over the moon excited. 

"Would you like to get a coffee with me?" He whispers to her, only looking her in the eye once. 

"Sure. Sounds great." She smiles. 

He told himself he wouldn't sleep with her on the first date. Coffee seems innocent enough, but alas, it ended with him ramming into her from behind in an alleyway behind the coffee shop. 

"I had a great time." She smiles, as she adjusts her skirt. "See ya." She finishes, walking away, leaving him standing there slightly confused. 

Kai saw her often, mostly in the middle of the night when she called him and asked him to come fuck her. Whenever he asked to walk her to class or meet up for dinner, she was always busy or unavailable. And if they ever did meet up at her apartment during the day, she always had an excuse as to why he couldn't stay. 

"That was great." She sighs, rolling over onto her back. Kai rolls over, wrapping his arm around her waist, only laying there for a second before she wiggles out-of his embrace and stands at the edge of the bed. 

"What?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"I've got a lot to do. You gotta go." She says, getting dressed and rushing him out of her apartment. 

He wanders around downtown for a bit, trying to think of why she kicked him out so quickly, why she never wants to spend time with him. He's lost in his thoughts until he sees Mina, just down the street walking with her friend. 

With a smile on his face he walks up to her to greet her. 

"Hey you." He smiles. 

She doesn't smile back. Instead, she scoffs, her friend giving him a weird, uncomfortable look. 

"Um." Mina starts, but Kai gets the point. 

"Gotcha." He mumbles, turning around to walk away and that's when he hears her. 

"Who is that?" Her friend asks, laughing. 

"The most amazing dick I've ever had." Mina raves. "But like that's all he's good for." She laughs. "He's so awkward. Could you imagine keeping that as your boyfriend? Talk about being embarrassed all the time." Mina laughs. "And he's studying accounting. How lame. He'd make better money fucking women for a living." She finishes. 

A tear rolls down Kai's cheek as he now vows to himself to never try for a relationship again. Women wanted some good, dominating cock? Then that's what he would give them, that's all that he would give them. 

** 

"Make sure he has brown hair." Jisoo laughs. The two of you sit in a cafe, on your phones choosing an escort for each other. You picked one for her, someone who seemed to fit her type just right, a man named Baekhyun. 

You were nervous about who she chose for you, but you trusted her, mostly. You knew she wouldn't screw you over. 

"Okay done. Meet him in an hour at the Into The Night hotel." She laughs. 

"Seriously? Fuck." You laugh nervously. 

Forty five minutes later you're standing outside the hotel, taking a deep breath. You're the one who needs to get the hotel room and he will knock on the door. You know, this is fine, its simple, its just a fuck. With a stranger. It's fine. 

"A room with a king size bed." You whisper to the front desk clerk who looks at you weirdly as you sweat slightly. 

"Room 5372. Here's your key. Enjoy your stay.. with no bags." He says. 

"Someone will be coming to ask for my room number. Make sure you tell him." You say, clearing your throat. 

"Of course." He says, looking back to his computer. 

**

You sit on the edge of the bed, your fingers twiddling as you wait for the much anticipated knock on the door. And when it came, your heart jumped from your chest. 

Your palms were sweaty as you gripped the door knob, taking a few very deep breaths before you pulled the door open revealing an extremely handsome man. His hair was messy and dark, his shirt unbuttoned just enough for you to see his chest, the muscles in his arms protruding from his long sleeve shirt. 

You go back and sit on the bed, watching him walk in, the bulge in his pants very noticeable. Your breath hitches as your eyes stare at it, unable to look away from it. 

"Hi." He says, his voice deep and rugged. "I'm Kai." He smiles. 

"Um hi, I'm.. um.. Ayn." You stutter. 

"Ayn." He says, a smirk on his face. "How would you like me, Ayn?" He asks. 

"What's your last name?" You ask, your nerves have now fully taken over. "Mines YLN." 

"Kim." He says, cocking his head to the side. 

"Nice, nice. Are you hungry? I'm starving. I'm going to order room service." You say, jolting yourself up and heading to the phone. 

"Wait you're serious?" He asks. 

"Very. I never joke about food." You say. 

"Uh. A burger?" He says, slightly confused about what was currently happening. But he hadn't had dinner and was kind of hungry, so why not?

"Hi, i'd like two cheeseburgers with fries and two cokes." You accidently yell into the phone. "Sorry." You whisper, hanging up. "Like twenty minutes you tell him, slowly walking back towards the bed. 

He nods his head. 

"So.. good times?" You ask, referring to the name of the hotel, a small smile on your face. 

"Yeah, I mean, it's meant for good times, so why not. I thought it was clever when I named it." He smiles. 

"You named it? Do you own the company?" You ask, genuinely shocked. 

"I do." Kai laughs. "I founded Knight Industries a few years ago and built it up." He says, beginning to unbutton his shirt. 

"Umm." You say nervously, thinking of how else you could stall. Honestly, you wanted to see what was under his shirt but you knew where it was going to lead you weren't sure about the stranger thing. 

Knock 

Knock 

"Room service." A voice chimes from outside your door. 

"I better.. get that." You half smile, quickly walking to the door. You open it and a cart is pushed into your room. The man looks confused when he sees Kai standing there, both of you fully clothed. 

"Uh, enjoy." He says, walking out but not before giving Kai a questioning look. 

**

Over the next hour you and Kai talk about one thing, well you talk about one thing and that thing is food. You went on and on while Kai actually sat there and smiled at you as you described to him your favorite dish to make at home. 

"It's so easy to make but tastes amazing. You have to taste it to believe it." You laugh. 

You also talked about what your dream vacation would be. 

"And that's why my absolute dream vacation would be a good tour of Europe. You would get everything." You groan, just thinking about the food made you want to drool everywhere." 

"You can't forget the wine though." Kai laughs. 

"No never, can never forget that." You smile. 

Beep

Beep. 

Your phone alarm beeps, telling you your two hours is up. You give Kai a smile before gathering your belongings. 

"Thanks for this. I had a great time." You smile before leaving the room, leaving him there to respond to no one. 

"Thank you." He whispers.

Kai tries to make sense of what just happened over the last two hours he had spent with you. When he talked you actually listened, you genuinely seemed interested in what he was saying and enjoyed talking to him. Something he had never had, no one ever wanted him, just his cock. 

**

"Wow." Jisoo says, a tired smile plastered on her face, her hair a mess as she limps towards you outside the hotel. "You don't look like you just got fucked." She pouts. 

"But you do." You respond. "I didn't. We talked. And it was really nice." You say, shyly. 

"It wasn't a date Ayn. You were supposed to get laid!" She yells, a little too loudly. 

"Next time. I will. Promise." You say. 

"You're going to have a next time?" She asks, surprised. 

"Would that be weird to request him again?" You ask. 

Before she could answer a very handsome man ran out of the hotel, yelling her name. 

"Jisoo! You forgot this." He smiles at her, his hair disheveled. He slyly hands her a pair of panties, giving her a wink before running back into the hotel. 

"That's Baekhyun." She breathes. "I think I love him." She finishes. The two of you laugh before linking arms and walking back to your apartment, completely missing the man you'd spent time with watching you walk away from him. 

That night you laid in your bed, staring at the request on your phone to meet up with him again. You wanted to see him again, whether you did anything or just talked but did he want to see you was the question. 

You left it alone for the next week, thinking and debating about it everyday. You had the request filled out, but for whatever reason you couldn't bring yourself to press send. 

You felt stupid. You probably weren't even his type, this is what he did for a living, of course he was nice to you, you paid for it. However, he was supposed to fuck you, not spend two hours eating and talking with you. 

After a week you finally pressed that send button, and you confirmed your meeting for tomorrow, making sure to add to meet at a park at sunset. You wondered if he would actually show up. 

**

The next night you sat on the park bench, your bag with a surprise beside you, as you waited for him to show up. The littlest part of you felt like he wasn't going to show up. So when I looked over and saw him walking towards you, your heart skipped a beat. 

He sat down next to you, a smile on his face as he looked at you. "Hi." He says. 

"Hi." You reply, your nerves coming back. 

"We never got around to your favorite food last time." You say, waiting for him to begin talking. 

"Fried chicken." He laughs. "My mom used to make it when I was little, and it's just kind of stuck now." He says, his hands placed on his lap. "She got the recipe when she was in America for a bit." 

"Have you traveled much?" You ask. 

He looked at you like you were crazy when you asked him that, but you really and truly wanted to know more about him. 

"Japan a few times, China and America once, but that was years ago. I've always wanted to go back." He tells you. "Have you been anywhere?" He asks. 

"No I've never traveled anywhere. I've always wanted to though." You smile. 

"I think you'd like Japan. Amazing food." He laughs. 

"Anywhere that has good food has my vote." You smile. "Speaking of food, I brought this for you." You say, pulling out the container of food you made for him. "I really wanted you to try it." You laugh. 

"I-.. wow." He says, looking shocked. Your eyes meet as he remains speechless at your kind gesture. 

Before you knew what was happening, Kai had leaned over and pressed his plump lips to yours, wrapping his hand around the back of your head to deepen the kiss. 

When he pulls away you smile, standing up, your face covered in blush. "We'll have to meet up again so I can refill the container." You smile, walking away, hoping he uses the number you left on the top of the lid. 

** 

3 days. It took him 3 days to text you. After the second day you had completely given up hope on him messaging you, but that was typical of your fashion, never giving enough time to anyone. 

You had woken up early in the morning for work and saw a text from a number you didn't recognize, thanking you for the food and how delicious it was. 

You texted all day after that, about everything. He asked you on a date for that weekend, 8pm on Saturday. You told him you'd love too, and when Saturday rolled around you were terrified. 

Your doorbell rang right at 8pm, and your heart fluttered as you walked towards the door, your heel clicking on the floor. You glanced at yourself in the mirror one more time, satisfied enough with how your makeup and hair turned out, you smoothed down your tight dress before answering the door. 

"Hi." Kai smiles, looking you up and down. "You look amazing." 

"Thank you." You whisper, looking at him in his suit, his hair slicked back. He looked so good. You almost said fuck it and dragged him into your apartment, but you have a little self control, for now. 

On the drive to the restaurant you couldn't keep your eyes off him. The way he slouched in his seat, his legs spread with one hand on the steering wheel, the other one placed on your thigh. You could feel your pussy throbbing as you pressed your legs together, trying to keep yourself together. 

"Are you okay?" He asks, his eyebrow raised, glancing over to you.  

"Yep, all good." You say. 

You knew he didn't buy it. His cologne, how his skin glowed under the moonlight, his plump lips, it was all getting to you and fast. 

** 

At the restaurant you sat across from him, throwing back your third glass of wine as Kai watched you in  amusement. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, his chin resting on his hands. 

"Mhmm." You say, gaining a little bit of confidence. You raise your leg under the table, gently caressing his leg with your foot, up and down a few times before you slide off your shoe and work your way up to his thigh. 

Your eyes locked as you moved your foot, you could see his face change, his eyes become darker. 

Every Time you rubbed his leg, you could feel your lips sliding together, reminding you of just how wet you truly were. 

"I'm so wet." You whisper, sticking your hand under the table, sliding it over your pussy before popping it in your mouth to suck off your juice. 

Kai's eyes went black. Right before he could say anything, the waiter came, placing your food in front of the both of you. 

"Anything else I can get for you?" He asks, Kai looks at you, you bite your lip, looking slightly needy. 

"Yeah, can we get this to go please." Kai says, his eyes never leaving yours. A smile spreads across your face as the waiter looks confused but takes your plates away anyways. 

A few minutes later he returns with your food and your bill. Kai pays quickly before placing his hand on the small of your back to guide you out. 

"Are you sure?" He asks, sliding into the driver's seat, starting the car. 

"I want you to fuck me." You moan. Kai groans as he races down the street. "Now." You whisper. 

He turns down an alley, parking in the dark between two buildings, making sure you were out of camera view. 

"Out." He growls. 

You open the door, step outside and walk to the front of the car. You watch as Kai walks around to the front of the car, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops. His hand rests on your cheek as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. He backs you up, leaning you against the car and laying you down on the hood of the car. 

He breaks the kiss and stands up. "Hands." He demands. 

You give him your hands, he puts them together and wraps his belt around them tightly. "Put them above your head."  He demands. You do as you're told, your pussy dripping as you wait for what he plans to do next. 

He brings his hand up to your neck, dragging his finger down your collarbone, past your breasts, down your stomach, stopping halfway down your thighs at the hem of your dress. 

"Spread your legs." He says, his voice deep and demanding. You do your best to spread your legs, causing your dress to ride up, exposing your red lace panties. 

Kai lifts your dress more, looking at your panties and smirking. He grabs onto them, moving them to the side, giving him a great view of your lips. 

"Oh my god." You cry, your pussy needing to be touched. 

"Quiet baby girl." He moans as he leans his body on yours. His one hand reaches in-between your thighs, moving between your lips before his thumb grazes over your throbbing clit while he inserts two fingers inside you, slowly. His body rests on yours as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, his other hand covering your mouth to muffle the sound of your moans. 

Kai whispers in your ear as you mumble your muffled cries. "That's a good girl."

As he continues to pump his fingers into you, he moves his thumb in a circle on your clit, making your arch your back. You try to cry out, but his hand catches most of the whimpers as he removes his fingers from inside you, and focuses just on rubbing your clit. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to squeeze your legs together, your orgasm threatening to burst. 

"Cum." He growls, sending you right over the edge, your body shaking as you ride through your high. 

Kai removes his hand from your mouth while staring at you before licking his fingers with a smirk on his face. You slide down the car onto your knees, lifting up your hands so he can untie you. 

You're a bit shaky as you pull down his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. 

Your mouth waters as you stare at the thick, juicy, veiny cock standing straight in front of you. You wrap your hand around the shaft, pumping it a few times before Kai grabs the back of your head, forcing his cock into your mouth, making you choke. 

"Mhmm." He moans. "Choke on that cock." 

He lets you come up for air, just for a second before he shoves his cock back in your mouth and down your throat. Your eyes water as he thrusts in and out a few times before fully pulling out and standing you up. He pushes you down on your stomach against the hood of the car, making you spread your legs with his foot. 

"Ready?" He asks, but doesn't wait for an answer. Instead he grips onto your hips and slams his cock inside of you, stretching you out and giving you no time to adjust to his size. "Such a tight pussy." He groans, his hands holding onto you tighter as your hands are laid out above your head, red marks from the belt very visible but you didn't care. 

Kai never slowed his pace, he fucked you hard and he fucked you good. 

"Shit shit." You cry out as he hits your g spot with every thrust. "P..please don't stop." You cry. You can hear him grunting behind you, making you clench yourself around his cock. 

"Don't stop that." He groans, his fingertip digging into your hips. "Shit." He moans. "I'm gonna..cum." he finishes, pulling out to cum on your ass. "Fuck." He sighs, as he pumps himself a few more times, making sure he rides his high for as long as he can. 

"That was.." he begins. 

"Great." You finish, pulling down your dress. You smile at him as he zips up his pants. "Will you come home with me?" You ask, a little nervous he might say no. 

"I'd love too." He smiles, opening the car door for you. You slide in, and he closes it before running to the drivers side and backing out of the alley way. His arm rests on your thigh for the entire drive back to your apartment, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter. 

**

The next morning you wake up to feel a hand wrapped around your stomach with a face buried into your neck. You smile as you remember he came home with you last night, and you smile even harder as you feel his large friend poking you in the ass. 

With a smirk on your face you wiggle your ass against his boner, making his groan. "Tease." He mumbles as he nuzzles his face further to your neck. 

"You can always just slip it in. Cum in my pussy." You whisper, making him raise his head. He reaches down, lifting your leg to go over his, opening you up slightly before he pulls down his boxers, letting his friend free. You arch your back as he guides himself inside of you, slowly thrusting in and out. He hand reaches up and under your shirt, cupping your breast before twiddling your nipples as he pumps his hips. 

"Fuck." You moan as his hand leaves your breasts and moves up to wrap around your throat. His large hands squeeze your neck as he thrusts into you harshly. 

"Rub your clit." He says, demanding you to do so. You reach between your legs and begin playing with the throbbing bud, rubbing it in circles, your pussy tightening around his cock.

"Good girl." He breathes into your ear, his head tightening again around your neck. 

"I'm.. gonna.." you cry. 

"Cum." He demands, breathing the word heavily into your ear. Shivers send down your spine as you orgasm takes over, making you cry out, loudly. 

Kai grunts a few times before spilling his juices inside of you. "Fuck." He sighs, milking himself for everything. 

He pulls himself out of you and rolls out of bed, pulling his pants on. 

"What are you doing?" You ask, confused. 

"I thought you were going to ask me to leave." He says, shrugging his shoulders. 

"Actually." You pause. "I was going to see if you wanted to come to the store with me. I was going to make you some food." You say, sitting up in your bed. "But if you want to go.." you pause. 

"I don't want to go..it's just i'm always asked to leave after." He says. "No one asks me to stay." 

"I'm asking you to stay. Spend the day with me?" You ask. 

The smile on his face could light up an entire city, the two of you so happy in that moment, but little did you know, things wouldn't be so happy in the future. 

**

Things with you and Kai were great for the first couple of months until the two of you had gotten more serious than either of you had expected in such a short amount of time. 

It had only been nine months but you knew with everything you had in your soul that you loved this man more than anything. And you knew he loved you back, but you just couldn't get past his work. 

You knew he didn't love the women he was with, you knew it was only a job but you hated it. You hated that while you thought about him, his dick was inside someone else, making someone else cum, making another woman feel good. And that was the cause of your fights, 99% of the time. 

"Here we go again." Kai sighs, as he grabs a drink from the kitchen. "It's always the same thing." He yells. 

"Yes it is! Why can't you just stop. Stop fucking other women." You yell. 

"It's my job! I founded the company. I built it up from nothing. I can't just walk away from that Ayn. You're asking me to give up alot." He says.  

You take a deep breath. "You know you are so much more than your dick right? You're so special, the way you make people feel is indescribable. But if you only listen to the voices in your head from your past, they will always win. And if you keep doing that, then I won't ever be enough for you. So, when you decide that you’re more than just a sex object, you call me, because you are more than that business. And your business may be booming but baby, you’re dying, I can see that and I hate that you can't. I am trying to fight for more than just us. I'm trying to fight for our future. Either you want or you don't. So let me know." 

With slow steps you walk away, hoping he stops you. 

You close the door hoping he stops you. 

You walk all the way to your car. 

You waited for him to stop you. 

But he never came. 

[him-e]

what did you think of shadow and bone? have you read the books? i only read the duology

Thoughts on Shadow and Bone, now that you've probably seen it?

I think the show is alright? It lacks a real wow factor as far as I’m concerned, but it’s enjoyable. It’s especially enjoyable in those parts I didn’t anticipate to like / didn’t even know would be there. 

Whereas the main selling points leave a lot to be desired.

The good stuff: the visuals. The aesthetic. The overall concept. Production, casting and costumes are excellent, the setting is fascinating. The worldbuilding isn’t perfect and is sometimes confusing, which is probably due to the show jumping ahead of the books and introducing elements that happen much later in the book saga, but I’m loving the vague steampunk-y vibe of it mixed with more typical fantasy stuff and slavic-inspired lore, the fact that it’s set in dystopian Russia rather than your usual ye olde England.

I find it interesting that in this ‘verse the Grisha are simultaneously superstars, privileged elite, legendary creatures and despised outcasts, according to the context and the type of magic they wield. It’s A Lot, and so far it’s all a bit underdeveloped and messy, like a patchwork of different narratives and tropes sewn together without an organic worldbuilding structure. (there are hints to a past when they were hunted, but how did they go from that to being, essentially, an institutionalized asset to the government isn’t clear yet. There’s huge narrative potential in this, and I hope future seasons will delve into those aspects)

Many of the supporting characters are surprisingly solid. I appreciated that Genya and Zoya eventually sort of traded places, subverting the audience’s assumptions about them and their own character stereotypes, despite the little screentime they were given.

Breakout characters/ships for me were Nina/Matthias, and even more so the Crows, i.e. the stuff I didn’t see coming and knew nothing about (having only read the first book). (I thought the entire Crows subplot was handled in a somewhat convoluted way, at least in the first episodes; it was hard to keep track of who wanted Alina and why, but the Crows’ chemistry is so strong it carried the whole Plot B on its shoulders).

HELNIK. As an enemies to lovers dynamic, Helnik was SUPER on the nose, I’d say bordering on clichéd with the unapologetic, straight outta fanfiction use of classic tropes like “we need to team up to survive” and “there’s only one bed and we’ll freeze to death if we don’t take our conveniently damp clothes off and keep each other warm with the heat of our naked bodies” (not that I’m complaining, but i like to pine for my ships a bit before getting to the juicy tropetown part, tyvm). And then they’re suddenly on opposite sides again because of a tragic misunderstanding - does Bardugo hate high-conflict dynamics? It certainly seems so, because between Helnik and Darklina I’m starting to see a pattern where the slow burn and blossoming mutual trust is rushed and painted in broad, stereotypical strokes to get as fast as possible to the part where they *hate each other again* and that’s... huh. Something.

^That’s probably why I’m almost more interested in Kaz x Inej, because their relationship feels a bit more nuanced, a bit more mysterious, and a bit more unpredictable. (I didn’t bother spoiling myself about them, so I really don’t know where they’re going, but it’s refreshing to see a dynamic that the narrative isn’t scrambling to define in one direction or the other as quickly as possible)

-

Now, as for Darklina VS Malina... I found exactly what I expected. 

Both are ship dynamics I’m, on principle, very much into (light heroine/dark villain, pining friends to lovers) but both are also much less interesting than they claim to be, or could have been with different narrative choices. I’ll concede that the show characters are all more fleshed out and likable than their book counterparts, and the cringe parts I vaguely remembered from the books played out differently. And, well, Ben Barnes dominates the scene, he’s hot as HELL, literally every single second he’s on screen is a fuck you to Bardugo’s attempts to make his character lame and uninteresting and I’m LOVING it, lol.

But yeah, B Barnes aside, Darklina is intrinsically, deliberately made to be unshippable. 

It makes me mad, because it’s - archetypally speaking - made of shipping dynamite: yin/yang-sun and moon, opposites attract, COMPLEMENTARY POWERS AND SO ON. And what does Bardugo do with these ingredients? A FUCKING DELIBERATE DISASTER:

^ Placing the kiss so early on (season 1, episode five) effectively kills the romantic tension that was (correctly) building up until that point, and leaves the audience very little to still hope for, in terms of emotional evolution of the dynamic. 

Bardugo lays all the good stuff down as early and quickly as possible (the bonding, the conflicted attraction, the recognizing the other as one’s equal, etc) only to turn the tables and pull the rug so y’all sick creepyshippers won’t have anything to look forward to, because THEY’VE ALREADY HOOKED UP AND THAT BELONGS TO THE PAST, IT’S OVER, THEY’RE ENEMIES. This, combined to the fact that she falls for him *without* knowing who he really is, is the opposite of what I want from a heroine/villain ship (it’s basically lovers to enemies, and while that can be valid too, I wanted to see more pining and more prolonged, tormented symbolic attraction to the Shadow/Animus on Alina’s part). 

But here’s the trick: it’s not marketed as lovers to enemies - it has all the aesthetics and trappings of an enemies to lovers (the Darkling is, from the get go, villain-presenting, starting from his name), so it genuinely feels like a trollfic, or at the very least a cautionary tale *against* shipping the heroine with the tall dark brooding young villain, and I don’t think it’s cool at all. It makes the story WAY less interesting, because it humanizes the villain early on (when it’s not yet useful or poignant to the story, because it’s unearned) but it’s a red herring. The real plot twist is that the villain shouldn’t be sympathized with, just defeated: there’s a promise of nuanced storytelling, that is quickly denied and tossed aside. So is the idea of incorporating your Shadow (a notion that Bardugo must be familiar with, otherwise she wouldn’t have structured Alina and the Darkling as polar opposites who complement each other, but that she categorically refutes)

Then we have Malina. The good ship.

Look, I’m not that biased against it. I don’t want to be biased on principle against a friends to lovers dynamic that antagonizes a heroine/villain one, because every narrative is different, and for personal reasons I can deeply relate to the idea of being (unspeakably) in love with your best friend. So there are aspects of Malina that I can definitely be into, but it troubles me that in this specific context it’s framed as a regression. It’s Alina’s comfort zone, a fading dream of happiness from an idealized childhood, to sustain which the heroine systematically stunts her growth and literally repressed her own powers, something that in the books made her sickly and weak. But the narrative weirdly romanticizes this codependency, often making her tunnel vision re: going back to Mal her primary goal and centering on him her entire backstory/motivation, to the point that when she starts acting more serious re: her powers and alleged mission to destroy the Fold, it feels inorganic and unearned. 

Mal is intrinsically extraneous to Alina’s powers, he doesn’t share them, he doesn’t understand them, he has little to offer to help her with them, and so the feeling is that he’s also extraneous to her heroine’s journey, aside from being a sort of sidekick or safe harbor to eventually come back to. People have compared him to Raoul from Phantom of the Opera, and yeah, he has the same ~magic neutralizer~ vibe, tbh.

The narrative also polarizes Mal’s normalcy and relative “safety” against Aleksander’s sexy evil, framing Alina’s quasi-platonic fixation on the former as a better and purer form of love than her (much more visible and palpable) attraction to the latter. This is exacerbated by the show almost entirely relying on scenes of them as kids to convey their bond. I’m sure there are ways to depict innocent pining for your best friend that don’t involve obsessively focusing on flashbacks of two CHILDREN running in a meadow and looking exactly like brother and sister. LIKE. I get it, they’re like soulmates in every possible way, BUT DO THEY WANT TO KISS EACH OTHER?

Which brings me to a general complain: for a young adult saga centering on a young heroine and full of so many hot people, this story is weirdly unsexy? There are a lot of shippable dynamics, but they’re done in such a careless, ineffective way that makes ZERO EFFORT to work on stuff like slow burn, pining and romantic tension, and when it does it’s so heavy handed that the viewer doesn’t feel encouraged at all to fill the blanks with their imagination and start anticipating things (which is, imo, the ESSENCE of shipping). The one dynamic that got vaguely close to this is, again, Kaz and Inej, and coincidentally it’s also the one we didn’t get confirmed as romantic YET. Other than that, where’s the slow burn? What ship am I supposed to agonize over during the hiatus to season two? Has shipping become something to feel ashamed of, like an embarrassing relative you no longer want to invite in your home?

Anyway, back to Alina/Darkling/Mal, this is how the story reads to me:

girl suspects to be special, carefully pretends to be normal so she can stay with Good Boy

the girl’s powers eventually manifest; she’s forcibly separated from Good Boy

the girl’s powers attract Bad Boy who is her equal and opposite but is also a major asshole

girl initially falls for Bad Boy; has to learn a hard lesson that nobody that sexy will ever want her for who she is, he’s just trying to exploit her

also, no, there is no such thing as a Power Couple

girl is literally given a slave collar by Bad Boy through which he harnesses her power (a parody of the Twin Scars trope)

you know how the story initially suggested that the joint powers of Darkness and Light would defeat evil? LOL NO, Darkness is actually evil itself and the way you destroy evil is using Light to destroy Darkness, forget that whole Jungian bullshit of integrating your shadow, silly!

conclusion: girl realizes being special sucks. She was right all along! Hiding and suppressing her powers was the best choice! She goes back to the start, to the same Good Boy she was meekly pining for prior to the start of the story.

... there’s an uncomfortable overall subtext that reads a lot like a cautionary tale against - look, not just against darkships and villain/heroine pairings, but also *overpowered* heroines and, well... change? Growth?

Like, it’s certainly a Choice that Alina starts the story *already* in love with Mal. That she always knew it was him. The realization could have happened later (making the dynamic much more shippable, too), but no. 

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Never gonna happen

(Looking at the art deity @cacodaemonia​ ‘s work for inspiration to help me through the next chapter of Time To Say Goodbye and I couldn’t stop giggling at this one. And suddenly this one-shot was written. Poor Mose xD )

-

The bar is crowded with souls from every corner of the Galaxy and none which one should be turning one’s back on. In the corner of the room, Mose tips the food on his plate into his big mouth while Zev’sonya leans back in her chair and takes a big swallow from her glass of hard liquor.

They are between work, and also between crews as the previous one made the mistake of heavily hinting to her how many credits they could get by visiting one of the blood farms with Mose.

So, yeah, Zev’sonya is in a foul mood and of course that means some moron has to appear and try his luck charming her.

Her initial reaction and instinct is to tell the idiot to go away before she cuts him, but one glance at his face makes her change her mind. Instead of scowling, she puts on a smile. Instead of threats, Zev’sonya nods for him to take the seat next to her.

Mose chews and watches them with a slight frown.

The idiot introduces himself as Dannian or something. He offers to buy her a drink while he does a poor job at trying to map her body with his eyes and hating her layers of clothing for making it difficult. Zev’sonya keeps her smile on and pretends not to notice.

And soon she accepts the offer from this Durian-guy to travel back to his planet with him as his guest, on the one condition that her friend got to come along as well.

While Durian-guy tries to act like he’s perfectly fine with having a Hutt join them, Zev’sonya gives her sweet smile to Mose, who returns it with a faint narrowing of his eyes in a silent question.

Zev’sonya takes the hand Durian-guy offers her and lets him help her to her feet before looking back at Mose again, still smiling. “You coming?”

Sighing, Mose puts his plate down. “Yeah, yeah…”

She knew he would. He always does. He’s the one soul she can trust.

On the ship, Mose stays in the back, in the shadows, while Zev’sonya allows the Durian-guy to cozy up to her. She giggles at the lame jokes he delivers and swoons at the lies he serves her.

The planet they land on is quite beautiful with sleek, golden buildings and a warm, red sky. The air smells like sugar. They walk to an impossibly tall tower where servants scramble to obey Durian-guy’s every whim, just like he said they would and Zev’sonya knew they would.

Mose keeps quiet and remains in the background, but he follows. 

Though, unease flutters across his face later, when Zev’sonya appears in a slinky dress that had been brought to her room for her to wear to tonight’s big dinner in the tower. He’s clearly worried she’s lost her mind.

Zev’sona gives Mose another sweet smile and lets Durian-guy place his hand on her bare back as he guides her over to the seat next to him. Mose shakes his head and eats.

It’s in the middle of the night when the door to Mose’s room slides open and Zev’sonya sneaks inside. “Mose…” She whispers.

Mose frowns without opening his eyes or getting up from where he’s sleeping on the floor. “What?”

“We have to leave.” Zev’sonya continues, keeping her voice down so no one else will hear her. “Now.”

Mose opens his eyes and stares directly at her. “What did you do?” His voice is an odd mix of resignation and wariness, but he doesn’t sound surprised. At all. Like he was expecting this.

Zev’sonya can’t help it, she grins, too pleased with herself not to. “Relax. He’s fine. I didn’t put a finger on him.”

“What,” Mose gets up and sighs, “did you do, Lorda?”

“You didn’t recognize him, huh?” Zev’sonya says as they leave the room. “Well, I did. I saw that guy’s face on a propaganda bulletin thing last month. Durian is a prince on this planet and a huge player in the slave trade.”

They pause in the shadows as two guards walk by before Zev’sonya gestures for Mose to follow, which he does, and they actually manage to sneak out of the building undetected.

“I just thought him having so many credits from his business deals, he wouldn’t mind sharing them with us.” Zev’sonya states gleefully, feeling the weight of all the jewellery and other valuables in her countless pockets. “He was only too happy to show me where he kept all his treasures. Not exactly humble or smart.”

“A prince, Lorda.” Mose growls. “You decided to rob a prince. On his home planet. Without an escape ship or a back-up crew.”

Zev’sonya makes a face. “It seemed like a good idea at the time?”

“We talked about this.” Mose sighs, shuffling along after her as she scouts for a ship to steal.

“You need to learn to get a little more fun out of life, pateesa.” Zev’sonya grins, then lights up as she sees a small and fast ship that is perfect for them. “Ah hah. That one.”

“What I need is to sleep through a night without having to flee for my life…” Mose mutters.

Snorting a laugh, Zev’sonya slices the computer lock on the ship’s door and it slides open to let them in. “You want a straw? I mean, since you’re set on sucking the fun out of things?”

“No, I just want to get off this planet before they start shooting at us.”

Zev’sonya gets into the pilot seat and starts awakening the ship from its slumber. It’s fairly easy and soon they are heading towards the safety of space. She glances back into the passenger seating area outside the cockpit door and grins at Mose. “See? You worry too much.”

Mose huffs, unimpressed, and merely tries to get his big bulk comfortable between the narrow path between the row of seats at opposite sides of him. Few ships are designed for a Hutt body and this small craft is clearly not.

Zev’sonya is about to reassure him that they’ll land and sell the ship and get a better one as soon as possible when a beeping sound draws her attention. She turns forward again and the smile on her face fades when she sees the multiple dots on the radar following them. “Oh.”

Mose stops fidgeting and stares at her. “What?”

Zev’sonya clears her throat. “I think he found out.”

“Here we go…” Mose sighs. “Are we in trouble?”

Frowning, Zev’sonya flips some switches and pushes some buttons, pushing the engine to the limit to reach top speed. It helps, but not for long. The dots on the radars increase their speed as well and soon they even start catching up. “I wouldn’t necessarily use the word ‘trouble’…”

“What word would you use?” Mose demands.

“Uhm…” Zev’sonya glances to the left when a warning shot is fired by the ship. “That things might get a little… interesting?”

Mose mutters something rude in Huttese.

A second shot comes dangerously close to the ship and Zev’sonya snarls angrily. They want to punish her for stealing stuff Durian-guy can afford losing three times over? Fine. But they do NOT get to shoot down Mose for her idiocy. She gets up and runs out of the cockpit, running across the seats to get by Mose to reach the narrow, circular opening in the floor that will lead her to the ship’s weapons. “Take over the controls. Keep up the speed and be ready to dodge. I’ll get on our guns.”

“What do you-No, wait, get back here! I can’t…” Mose blurts out as she goes by, but then the ship shakes as a third shot clearly comes too close for comfort.

“Do it!” Zev’sonya shouts as she climbs down the ladder and then rushes over to activate the weapons.

There are about seven or eight ships pursuing them and it is quite satisfying seeing them scatter like startled birds when she starts firing at them.

Mose is a skilled pilot, just rarely fits into a cockpit, so he keeps them going while Zev’sonya convinces the ones following them it would be wise to simply let them go. It takes quite a bit of persuading, whatever Durian-guy is paying them must be a lot, but eventually they decide they’ve chased them far enough and the risk isn’t worth it, so they turn and head back to the planet far away in the distance.

Cackling satisfied, Zev’sonya climbs back up the ladder. “We’re good.”

“You’re sure?” Mose asks, his upper torso in the cockpit as he has his hands on the controls while the rest of him is still in the passenger area.

“I’m sure.” Zev’sonya says, hopping up on the chairs to make her way towards the cockpit without stepping on his tail. “We’re good.”

“Good.” Mose replies, then sighs and slumps a little. “Because I’m stuck.”

“Really?” Zev’sonya blinks, surprised, then steps off the chairs and on to his back, ignoring his soft grunt of annoyance, gingerly walking up to where she crouches down and can see the door frame is digging into his sides.

“Really.” Mose grumbles.

Caught between feeling guilty and the urge to laugh, Zev’sonya clears her throat and heads back into the ship again. “I’ll go see if we got some grease.”

She finds some by a panel where somebody had been doing repairs or maintenance.

It takes a bit of time and effort, plus all of her might pulling on his arm, but finally Mose, after one careful inch after another, finally slides free with a loud schlurp. He exhales with relief and lets go of Zev’sonya’s hand so she falls on her back with a startled squawk.

Laughing up at the ceiling, not begrudging him a little payback, Zev’sonya revels in her smugness at their success. “I told you; you worry too much.”

Watching her, Mose shakes his head a little. “I feel so bad for the one who ends up marrying you, Lorda.”

Sitting up with a heartfelt scoff, Zev’sonya speaks with utter certainty: “That, pateesa, is never going to happen.”

There is absolutely zero chance of her agreeing to something so stupid. That kind of love isn’t real, the only one she will ever trust is Mose and marriage is for naive idiots.

Not going to happen.

Never.