#first post in nearly two months and this is what I produce
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Do you guys think their periods ever synced up
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#first post in nearly two months and this is what I produce#black butler#kuroshitsuji#grim reapers#shinigami#I refuse to tag this individually sorry#maybe just grell#grell sutcliff
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A Star in the Making.
— 𓆩𓆪 —
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𓆩 Lee Byung-Hun x F!reader 𓆪
Summary — Co-stars were caught in a whirlwind of off-screen chemistry.
A/N — this is a request that i rewrote the draft multiple times. the story request itself is sooo good but i feel this didn't live up to my expectations. hopefully, it's an enjoyable read though.
anon's request post
— 𓆩𓆪 —
Lee Byung-hun sat at the long, polished table across from Kim Tae-ri and the production team, a script resting unopened in front of him. The meeting room buzzed with quiet anticipation as the director leaned forward, clearing his throat.
“So,” the director began, looking between Byung-hun and Tae-ri, “we’re finalizing casting for Our Fading Days. Ji-ho and Min-ji are set, but we’re still struggling with Ha-yoon.”
Kim Tae-ri, who got cast as Min-ji tilted her head. “Isn’t the screen test next week? I thought you had a shortlist already.”
The director sighed. “We do, but none of them quite fit. Ha-yoon is vital to the story. We need someone who embodies her hopeful, cheerful energy, but also has depth. Someone who can hold her own against Ji-ho’s quieter nature and make the audience feel that emotional connection.”
Byung-hun listened quietly, his fingers lightly drumming the table. “What’s the issue with the shortlist?” he asked.
“Either they have great chemistry with you but lack the character,” the director explained, “or have the character but can’t create the platonic bond Ji-ho and Ha-yoon need. We’re considering holding another round of auditions, but…”
The producer chimed in. “We’re running out of time. If either of you has recommendations, please send them our way.”
Kim Tae-ri raised a brow at Byung-hun. “Any ideas?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
That evening, Byung-hun walked home under the dim city lights. The meeting lingered in his mind. Casting Ha-yoon was proving difficult, and he wasn’t sure they’d find someone who could balance the character’s charm and vulnerability.
As he passed a local theater, he noticed the soft glow of lights through the windows. Something pulled at him—curiosity, maybe. Without thinking, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The auditorium was nearly empty, save for a handful of people rehearsing on stage. Byung-hun’s gaze locked on a young woman, her. She stood at the center, pouring raw emotion into a heartfelt scene. Her voice carried across the room, weaving between desperation and hope. The intensity in her eyes made the dialogue feel alive like she wasn’t just acting but being.
He didn’t know the play or her name, but he felt a pang of admiration. The way she transitioned from lighthearted to deeply emotional reminded him of Ha-yoon’s complexity.
When the scene ended, her laughter rang out as she joked with the cast. The shift was so effortless that it startled him. This wasn’t just an actress—this was Ha-yoon.
Before he could gather his thoughts, a stage crew member approached him. “Sorry, sir, rehearsals aren’t open to the public.”
Byung-hun nodded apologetically. “My mistake.”
As he walked out, he pulled out his phone and called the director. “I think I found the perfect Ha-yoon. Contact the Arko Arts Theater. You’ll know her when you see her.”
⋆。𖦹° ⏾ ˚。⋆
Months passed, and filming for Our Fading Days was in full swing. You, cast as Ha-yoon, had been a bundle of nerves during your first few days on set. Transitioning from theater to television was daunting, but Byung-hun made it easier.
From the start, he was supportive, sharing tips, running lines, and reassuring you when you doubted yourself. “You’re doing great,” he said one evening after a long day of filming. “Better than great. Ha-yoon feels real because of you.”
“Thanks,” you murmured, still unsure. “It just feels… unnatural sometimes. Like I’m out of place.”
He smiled softly. “If that’s unnatural, I can’t imagine what you’re like when you’re in your element.”
The two of you quickly became inseparable. Lunch breaks were spent sharing snacks, late-night text exchanges were filled with inside jokes, and off-set outings turned into a regular thing. Kim Tae-ri often teased the both of you, trying to nudge the relationship further, but you and Byung-hun were oblivious to her hints.
As filming wrapped up, you found yourself bittersweet about the end. “I’m going to miss all of this,” you admitted one day.
He glanced at you. “You mean the show or…”
“Everything,” you replied vaguely.
The promotional interviews were in full swing, and the three of you, Lee Byung-hun, Kim Tae-ri, and you, sat on a couch, microphones in hand, under the bright studio lights.
The interviewer smiled as they turned to the group. “The story of Our Fading Days is so compelling—a childhood friendship between Ji-ho and Ha-yoon drifting apart as Ji-ho falls in love with Min-ji. It’s relatable and bittersweet. But,” they continued, their tone shifting to something more playful, “fans have picked up on something surprising. Despite Ji-ho and Ha-yoon not being a romantic pair, viewers are shipping you two. What do you think about that?”
You blinked, caught off guard for a moment, and then laughed lightly. “Oh, well, I guess it’s pretty common to root for the childhood best friend to end up with the main guy, even though Ji-ho and Ha-yoon see each other as strictly platonic. But yeah, I understand them, Ha-yoon's reaction towards their deteriorating friendship might seem more than platonic to the viewers.”
Before you could say more, Kim Tae-ri let out an amused laugh, shaking her head. “I think you misunderstood. The question wasn’t about Ji-ho and Ha-yoon. They’re asking about you and Byung-hun.”
Your eyes widened as the realization hit, and heat crept up your neck. “Oh.” You let out a nervous laugh, glancing at Byung-hun for support.
Byung-hun grinned, clearly amused by your reaction. “Really?” he said, leaning into the playful tone, “Shipping us? Wow, that’s a first—I didn’t think I had the qualifications to keep up with her. She’s the real star here!”
You laughed along with him, brushing it off. “He's too nice but yeah, Let's keep the shipping between our fictional lives.”
Kim Tae-ri smiled knowingly, her tone light but deliberate. “I don't know, you guys...” She paused, then added slyly, “Min-ji might just be the third wheel around here.”
The interviewer raised their eyebrows, the audience chuckled, and you felt your face grow warmer as you exchanged a quick, sheepish glance with Byung-hun. He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head in mock defeat, and the moment moved on—though the subtle tension lingered in the air.
⋆。𖦹° ⏾ ˚。⋆
Even after promotions ended, Byung-hun remained a constant in your life. He came to your theater performances, always waiting backstage with flowers in hand.
“You’re spoiling me,” you joked one night after a show, hugging him tightly.
“You deserve it,” he replied.
That evening, as you both strolled under the city lights, he suddenly stopped.
“You know,” he said, his tone a little nervous.
“Hmm?” you asked, looking up at him.
“I was thinking...” He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Ji-ho and Ha-yoon might make a great couple. Their relationship is certainly more than some friendship, don't you think? ”
Your eyes widened, and for a moment, you were speechless. Then you laughed, the sound warm and genuine.
“Is Ji-ho trying to confess, here?” you teased.
“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning.
You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Well… Ha-yoon definitely can sense the adoration Ji-ho has for her. I can say that she feels the same way.”
He chuckled, his hand brushing yours. “I'm glad she feels the same. She's a star in the making and he will continue walking her way.”
As the two of you walked on, hand in hand, the city seemed brighter than ever.
#lee byung hun#front man#squid game#hwang in ho#fluff#x reader#reqs open#in ho#in ho x reader#young il
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Hiii! First of all i love love love your writing i get so excited every time i see you’ve posted ❤️ i was wondering if i could request a daryl x fem!reader where they’re just chilling out watching a silly cartoon and he’s finally relaxing and happy to be with his girl, maybe it could be young daryl it’s up to you. Thank you for producing such good work for us all to read!!! 🫶
Selfish | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: When you woke up and walked into the kitchen, you didn't expect to find your mom sitting there with a man you didn't know. And you certainly didn't expect the man to go off on your boyfriend when you didn't even know who he was.
Genre: Fluff, teeny bit of angst.
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.
Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes.
Word count: 2.7k.
A/n: I hope you don't mind, but I already had an idea for my next installment to this universe, and thought this idea would work well with an idea I already had. To be honest, this isn't my best work and I feel like the plot is all over the place, but I hope you like this nonetheless!
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
The moon was shining brightly in the night sky, surrounded by the twinkling of millions of beautiful stars. Crickets were chirping outside in the grassy areas and owls were hooting from their spots in the trees. All the inhabitants of the trailer park were in their homes, tucked in and ready for a good night's rest.
Everyone except you and Daryl.
“M'tellin' ya, this cartoon ain't all tha'. S's'posed to be 'bout a talkin' dog helpin' reveal the culprits tha' ain't actual ghosts, yet him and tha' green shirt guy still believe in ghosts. Even after all the mysteries they solved, they still believe in 'em. S'fuckin' ridiculous.”
You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest and letting out a huff, albeit a playful one. “So you're telling me, real or not, that if a guy who looked like a ghost was threatening to kill you, you wouldn't run?”
“Nah, I'd run fer the fuckin' hills, I ain't denyin' tha',” Daryl stated, lazily picking at the dead skin on his thumb. “But c'mon, these guys are s'posed to be professionals. They unveil criminals tha' dress up as monsters fer a livin'. Ya can't be a fuckin' pussy durin' somethin' tha's yer job.”
“Okay, then, smartass,” you replied playfully, lightly shoving his shoulder. You giggled when Daryl wrapped his arm around you and pulled you tightly against his side, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “How about we watch that roadrunner cartoon you like?”
Daryl's eyes lit up. “Yer serious?” he asked, excitement lacing his tone.
You nodded and nuzzled your head into his chest, flicking through the channels with the remote until you found the aforementioned cartoon. Daryl pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on top of your head. The two of you sat there, cuddled up under the blankets, simply enjoying the serene moment.
Daryl couldn't believe how lucky he got with you. After nearly a year together, the two of you were still going strong. The so-called "honeymoon phase" that people said wore off after a few months into the relationship didn't falter between the two of you. What you and Daryl shared ran much deeper than just a phase. The two of you worked hard at your relationship, making compromises and being open with one another. Daryl wasn't the most open person, but for you, he tried. Likewise, there were things you didn't normally do that you did for Daryl—you weren't the most keen person on catching fish, but you did it for him, just because he liked it. Your love for one another ran deep, so it was unlikely for the happy, giddy feeling to wear off. That spark between the two of you would never burn out.
Your laugh suddenly echoed through the trailer, soon followed by Daryl's own chuckles at a particularly funny scene in the cartoon. Daryl looked down at you in awe, marveling at how beautiful you looked. Your eyes sparkled in the light that the television emitted and your smile was more radiant than anything he's ever seen before.
Yeah, Daryl Dixon knew he was the luckiest guy on the planet.
Before he could fully register what he was doing, Daryl cupped your cheek and turned your head to him, pressing his lips against yours in a firm, passionate kiss. You were surprised at first but ultimately sunk into the feeling of his lips on yours. The kiss soon escalated from loving and sensual to heated and lustful. Daryl picked you up and helped you onto his lap, quietly groaning when you lightly grinded your hips against his, putting a pleasurable amount of pressure against his growing erection.
You pulled away slightly, resting your forehead against his. “Do you want to take this to my room?” you asked in a whisper.
You giggled when he stood up while holding you firmly against him, not saying anything. You wrapped your legs around him, and he walked the short distance to your room, kicking the door shut behind him when he reached it.
The cartoon playing on the television was forgotten of for the rest of the night.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
Soft, feathery light kisses all over his face, shoulder blade and arm was what Daryl Dixon awoke to the next morning. Blinking away the last remnants of sleep from his mind, he turned over in the bed and locked eyes with you. You looked like a goddess to him at that moment, the sun gleaming through the window giving you a golden-like aura. You were wearing your shorts from the prior night, but you were wearing his shirt instead of your own. However, he didn't complain.
“Good morning, handsome,” you greeted him, giving him a cheerful smile.
Daryl gave you a lopsided smile in return, adjusting his head on the pillow. “Would be a better mornin' if I got a kiss,” he spoke in his raspy morning voice, sending shivers down your spine at the sound.
Complying with his not-so-subtle request, you leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his lips. You pulled away after a few seconds, bringing your hand up to brush through his hair.
“I'm gonna make us some breakfast. Throw on a pair of pants and come meet me, okay?” you told him, your hand lingering on his cheek for a moment before withdrawing.
Daryl nodded as he watched you stand up, adjusting the sheets around him as he became painfully aware that he was as naked as the day he was born under them. “Alrigh',” he started, his eyes slowly trailing over your form, appreciating the way you looked in his shirt. “Ya look good, sunshine.”
“Thank you,” you replied, sending him a smile, before finally making your way out of your room.
You closed the door behind you and made your way to the kitchen, but stopped in your tracks when you saw your mom sitting at the table with a man you've never seen before in your life. The two were engaged in a heated argument, not even noticing your presence.
“For the love of god, Henry! You can't just come here and demand to see her after seventeen years of nothing! We've been doing just fine without you or your money, so you can leave, just like you did all those fucking years ago!”
“She's my daughter too, Cecilia! I have every right to see her.”
“Mom?” you questioned confusedly, finally making your presence known.
Your mom turned her head to you, her eyes widening in horror. However, before she could say anything, the man called Henry stood up, sending you a strained smile.
“Princess?” he questioned you, taking a step towards you.
You took a step back, unexpectedly making contact with someone behind you. You stumbled but a familiar pair of arms encircled you, steadying you. You turned your head and locked eyes with your boyfriend's beautiful blue ones.
“Wha's goin' on?” he asked you, slightly standing behind you to hide his bare upper body from your mom's and the unknown man's view. He was suddenly painfully aware that his scars were on display to a person who he did not know, and that made him want to shrink into himself and disappear.
Instantly picking up on what he was feeling, you moved to stand in front of him. You eyed the man standing in front of you warily, sending questioning glances to your mom.
“Mom? What's going on?” you asked her, feeling extremely uncomfortable under the man's intense stare. It wasn't uncommon for your mom to see you and Daryl walking out of your room in the morning—she was well aware of why he stayed over most of the time—but it certainly was the first time that she had an unknown man with her in the morning.
“Who's this?” the man asked, a slight bit of anger lacing his tone. “What the fuck are you doing sniffing around my daughter, boy?”
“What?!” you exclaimed in surprise, your eyes widening. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”
“Sweetheart, please calm down. I can expl—”
“Shut up!” the man cut her off, turning towards you. “I come over to meet my daughter and this is what I walk in on? A fucking orgy? You couldn't even find someone better than some redneck?”
Daryl visibly stiffened. He ducked his head to avoid the man's harsh glare, uncomfortable with the way he dissected him with his eyes. The man had taken one look at Daryl and decided that his worth was nonexistent.
“Leave him out of this,” you warned him, snapping out of your confusion. Nobody had the right to target Daryl, especially not some man who, if he was your father, ran away seventeen years ago. “You don't get a say in who I date or not. And if you really are my father, what the hell makes you think that you can come in here after seventeen years and expect me to welcome you with open arms? What makes you think that you get to come into our home and play the man of the house? I don't know who you are, and after the last few minutes with your behaviour, I have no interest in getting to know you. You can go to hell.”
“Henry,” your mom jumped in, lightly shoving him back. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”
The man glared at you and your mom, before shifting his attention to Daryl again. “Well,” he started, scoffing and turning around to leave. “Like mother, like daughter. Seems like trying to get knocked up in high school is a hereditary gene.” He paused before turning back to you. “If you're smart, you can come find me at that motel near the bar. I'll be staying there.”
“Get the fuck out!” your mom yelled angrily, pushing him out.
Shutting the door once the bitter man was gone, your mom turned to you and Daryl. She looked at you sheepishly, a deep frown on her face.
“Guys, I'm so sorry,” she apologized sincerely.
“Mom, what was that?” you asked, allowing Daryl to pull you into his side, your boyfriend instantly recognizing your anxiousness. “Was that really—?”
“Your father?” she finished for you. “He is, but I really wish he wasn't.”
Your breath got caught in your throat. Unwillingly, you felt a lump form in your throat, the recent play of events turning your whole world upside down. For years, it had just been you and your mom. Your father was practically a ghost story, only being regarded as your "sperm donor". Yet there he had been mere minutes ago, standing in front of you. You felt overwhelmed, and you could feel your throat constricting.
You had to get out of there.
“I have to go,” you weakly mumbled out, withdrawing from Daryl's hold and pushing past your mom and heading out the door, walking in a familiar direction.
“Sweetheart, wait!” your mom called after you, but to no avail—you were already gone.
Daryl placed a hesitant hand on your mom's shoulder, bringing her attention to him. “I'll get her. I know where she's goin'.”
Your mom offered him a weak smile. “Thank you, Daryl,” she thanked him, vaguely motioning over to the laundry hamper at the other end of the room. “You left one of your shirts here the other day. It's in there.”
Nodding, Daryl walked over and grabbed the shirt, slipping it over his head—he was glad that his scars were once again hidden from plain view. Sparing your mom one last glance, Daryl ran out of the trailer and in the direction where you had disappeared.
A few minutes later, Daryl ended up by the river. There, just as he had predicted, you sat, your knees brought up to your chest, your bare feet resting in the cool water. You were staring straight ahead, clearly deep in thought.
“Figured I'd find ya here,” Daryl spoke softly as he sat down next to you, successfully gaining your attention.
You turned your head to him, tears falling from your eyes. The sight broke Daryl's heart. It was extremely rare to see you crying; you were always so happy and never let anything get you down, so the whole ordeal must've been too much for you.
“I'm sorry,” you brokenly whispered out, wiping the tears from your eyes.
“Fer wha'?”
“For leaving so abruptly,” you explained, tracing mindless shapes and figures into the sand beneath you with your finger. “You were probably so uncomfortable. I know how you feel about people seeing your scars and I just left. I'm really sorry, Daryl.”
It amazed Daryl how, even when it was something that didn't directly affect him and quite obviously took a huge toll on you, you still worried about him more than yourself. You were selfless and hated making just about anything about you, and even though Daryl loved that about you, in that particular moment, he wanted you to be selfish. He wanted you to make this about yourself. He wanted you to cry, to scream, to throw things. He wanted you to be mad at what happened. He didn't want you to worry about him in a moment like that.
Daryl wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his side. “Dun' worry 'bout me,” Daryl whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple. “How are ya feelin'? And dun' try and pull tha' "m'alright" shit with me. I know ya better than tha'.”
You inhaled deeply and sniffled. “I just... Never expected to meet my father like that. I've always dreamt of meeting him, y'know? And now that I have, I don't know how to feel. On one hand, he's my father and I wanna get to know him, but on the other hand, he's clearly a fucking dick and he needs to fuck off. And my mom... Oh, god. I left my mom. She probably thinks—”
“S'okay,” Daryl reassured you, wiping away the tears that had fallen from your eyes again. “She ain't mad. She's jus' worried 'bout ya.”
“I'm overreacting,” you mumbled, shaking your head in disappointment at yourself. “A few harsh words with that man and I bolt. It's ridiculous.”
“Listen to me,” Daryl began, pulling back and cupping your face in his hands, gently forcing you to look at him. “Yer not overreacting. Everythin' tha' happened was unexpected fer ya. Ya jus' met yer dad in the worst way possible and ya were overwhelmed. Nobody blames ya fer needin' a moment to process everythin', alrigh'? Ya deserve to take a moment fer yerself, a moment to be selfish. Ya hear me?”
You nodded, allowing the tears to fall freely now. Daryl pulled you into a proper hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt. He didn't care that your tears were soaking his shirt—his only concern was you. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, rocking you from side to side until you calmed down.
“Thank you,” you whispered after a while, sniffling softly.
“Ya dun' have to thank me,” he told you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “M'always here fer ya, jus' like ya are fer me.”
“I love you, Dar.”
A beat of silence passed, until Daryl whispered into your ear. “I love ya too, sunshine. I love ya so fuckin' much.”
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#shopping spree hangout dreams#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x reader#twd daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl x y/n#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#young!daryl dixon#young daryl dixon#young!daryl#young!daryl x reader#young!daryl dixon x reader
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Hello! So sorry to bother, I know your inbox must be full but I was reading your latest post and couldn’t help but notice you writing this
“And once Aym died and she saw how grief-struck he’d looked, heard how he rasped out Anthea’s name, watched as he reached out a trembling hand to the Lamb's collapsed, wailing form not to hurt but to comfort, she realized there was more going on.”
And it made me wonder even more how exactly the entire fight sequence went down between them all. I thought that Narinder would make the first strike after the twins deaths, but is it Anthea that does so out of grief or rage?
Anyways I love your content! Its great! Im normal about it!
Anthea strikes first yeah-Narinder had ordered them to sacrifice themself, then the twins to fight at their not so much refusal but more-so asking what the heck was going on (while he'd initially hoped the cages would be enough to encourage Anthea to lay down their life since he was betting on their self-sacrificial nature, when that didn't work he had hoped their love for the twins would get them to stand down instead). But after Baal got killed on accident via knocking Anthea off balance to ensure he'd get hit, then Aym doing almost the same via intentionally aiming for the cages with magic to force Anthea to counter (which unintentionally the curse they chose, an ice-based shield one produced a lot of shrapnel that pierced his stomach), he kinda broke a little? Like with Baal, he froze up in shock and didn't know how to react when Aym immediately went on a mana rage, then when Aym died as well that's what made his brain finally snap back and realize 'oh god what just happened my kids just died'.
Like he only asked Anthea to lay down their life because he was convinced they were going to betray him (see his overview here). And while at the moment he still thought as such, the shock of just losing his sons and now watching the love of his life break down covered in their blood had him just acting off instinct-Anthea's crying, comfort them now.
He reached out a hand, but the looming shadow just triggered a 'Fight' reflex, which was amplified by both their own grief and the Crown's desperation to defend its bearer in the wake of a threatening situation from its POV. Narinder nearly gets his hand blasted off with a curse launched on reflex, and it snaps him into realizing 'oh ok we're fighting now' which the battle goes from there. Narinder's chains had fallen off with each bishop's death so only his collar which was bound to the metaphysical one remained, so he was able to just jump into defense.
Which as a side-note (also see their overview here) Anthea doesn't actually remember much of the fight, like with losing the twins it was like losing their family all over again but worse since this time it was them who killed them, and the grief, confusion, and anger just took over. Combined with Red giving them essentially a massive adrenaline boost to make sure they could fight things just went downhill from there. Had Narinder not reached out his hand like that things might've gone a little differently-but because he spooked them battling it was.
All Anthea could see during that battle was red until Narinder was mortal size and their blade was pressed into his throat-and it was only at seeing how terrified he'd looked in that moment and the fact that they still loved him they snapped out of it. From there they sent him back to the cult, the two had an argument over who planned to betray who, and then they ignored him for the next few months.
So TLDR, the final battle is just a long chain of people making really bad split-second decisions (Baal tripping Anthea thinking he'd just get a simple cut to get Narinder to call it off, Aym following his brother's lead and miscalculating the possible results, Narinder reaching out a hand out of shock, Anthea getting spooked), and them snowballing into more.
(also thank you! :D)
#got a little comic sketched for this I wanna finish at some point~#crimson angel au#cotl#cult of the lamb#writing#writing ideas#narilamb#cult of the lamb au#cotl au#my writing#crimson angel au lore#anthea#narinder cotl
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Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 14
I'm thinking about writing an epilogue/sequel to this because after reading the ending, I feel like I've cheated you out of something special, but the story feels like it should have ended after the rut. So let me know in the comments if you would like see the bonding and birth of their first child.
First of two chapters being posted today.
The after party. Tommy makes an appearance and Chrissy comes to rescue...well so do everyone in Stevie's corner, but especially her.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
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The after party was buzzing with the who’s who of the industry. Producers and artists mingled with label execs and the best escorts Starcourt had to offer.
Steve had been invited to a couple of these in his time and always had fun.
Eddie was talking to this beautiful actress in a long purple and black gown. She had song on the soundtrack of her latest movie, surprising a lot of people with her vocal talents in addition to her acting.
Steve gulped down a bit of champagne to chase the bile of jealousy that he had forced back down.
“Well if it isn’t, Steve Harrington,” a cool voice said behind him.
Steve schooled his expression and turned around.
There was Tommy Hagan.
It had been a lovely couple of months where they hadn’t run into each at an event at all.
Steve smiled. “Hey, Tommy, you working a client or just the room tonight?”
When Starcourt supplied omegas to after parties like this one, they were allowed to network to get new clients. So not only were they paid well, they could bring in even more money by picking up new clients.
“He doesn’t love you, you know,” Tommy sneered. “This is all stunt to take the attention off of the fact that he fucked up with two omegas and nearly caused a scandal for the label both times.”
Steve knew that was the reason for the ‘fake dating’ contract. It was his business to know. “What’s the matter, Tommy? Upset that I get to fuck your favorite rockstar? You must have been so livid when you found out that I got invited to their charity gala and you didn’t.”
“You think you’re so special getting a million dollar cherry pop price,” Tommy snapped. “But that just means that you had to stay longer to pay it off, stupid.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, and I made that my first year. I didn’t have to stay, but I know my worth, sweetie. And it is a hell of a lot more than a million dollars.”
“You’ve got your claws in him now,” Tommy hissed, “but he’ll figure out that you’re as shallow as your intelligence.”
Steve flushed and Tommy smirked, knowing he hit the mark. The one thing that Steve was always worried about and that was coming across as the dumb bunny.
“I’m not stupid,” he whispered harshly. “Just because I haven’t gone to fancy schools doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”
Tommy laughed cruelly. “Look around you, Steve. This is all you’ll ever have. All you’ll know. You’re only worth is what’s between your legs, not what’s between your ears.”
Tears stung at the corner of Steve’s eyes.
Then there was a warm arm that slid around his waist and Steve leaned into the embrace.
“You okay, baby?” Eddie murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“Much better now that you’re here,” Steve whispered back, nuzzling the under side of his throat.
“Stevie and I were just having a little chat,” Tommy said all false smiles, “weren’t we?”
Steve pressed further into Eddie’s side.
Eddie scoffed. “I heard what you were saying, it’s why I came over.”
Tommy blanched. “What?”
“And I did not like what you said at all.” He kissed Steve soundly on the lips. “Troy and Robin are waiting for you, babe. They’ll take you somewhere where you can calm down and I’ll be right behind you, okay?”
Steve nodded and went right into the waiting arms of Robin, Troy covering Steve from behind so no one could see how upset he was.
“You’re Tommy Hagan, right?” Eddie asked, low and menacing.
Tommy nodded.
“I’ve been hearing about your supposed rivalry with Steve from a couple different people tonight.” Eddie’s tone grew even darker.
Tommy opened his mouth, but Eddie held up his hand to stop him, “And no, Steve was not one of them. From other handlers and escorts. From what I could gather, you’re pissed because he rose to the top of the company faster than you did. He’s prettier, more charming, and better at his job.”
“Think whatever you like,” Tommy scoffed. But the red flush to his cheeks belied his statement.
“And now he’s dating the lead singer of your favorite band and you are just eaten up with envy and jealousy,” Eddie continued. “So you decided to go after Steve’s intelligence knowing it was a soft spot for him. But there are different kinds of intelligence and Steve’s is all emotional. And that’s what makes him brilliant at what he does.”
“Still makes him as dumb as a rock,” Tommy hissed.
Eddie just shook his head. “I’m making a complaint against you with the agency. This is really bad behavior for a Starcourt omega and doesn’t reflect well on them.”
Then Tommy really did pale. All color drained from his face, leaving his freckles more pronounced in the absence of color on his cheeks.
Eddie just shook his head and went in search of Steve.
Troy spotted him first and waved him over to a small alcove where Robin was rubbing Steve’s back as he struggled to calm down.
Eddie knelt in front of him and began rubbing his arms. “Hey, sweetheart. Do you need to leave?”
Steve took in a deep shuddering breath and held in his a moment. “No. Tommy is an ass but I can handle it.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Eddie murmured, caressing Steve’s cheek with his thumb. “With the horrible questions, the sexist alpha, and now this asshole. You admit it affected you and we can go home.”
Steve’s lip quivered. “But what about you, don’t you have to be here?”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie said, cupping his cheeks, “I have been here. I could duck out. The rest of the band is still here as well as Benny and our producer Alexi. They could hold court if you really needed us to go right now.”
“Tommy’s already been reported to management,” Troy said, cradling his ear. “They still want Eddie to make a formal complaint, but they’re pulling Tommy out and replacing him with Chrissy Cunningham.”
Robin nodded. “Elinor and a couple other omegas who were here with actual clients had run afoul of him as well.”
Steve raised his head. “Wait, really? He’s pissed that he was only here to work the room as opposed to being with a client? Is he stupid?”
Troy raised his hand and rocked his fingers back and forth. “The jury is still out on that one.”
Eddie looked back between Troy and Steve in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“It depends on the client,” Steve said, “but an escort can make $1000-5000 a night. But working a room, you’re paid an five grand plus the chance to pick up future clients. Alphas that aren’t there with anyone who might have an event coming up that would be improved by having an escort. Maybe their rut is coming up soon. Working a room can net an escort closer to ten to fifteen grand.”
Eddie blinked. “Holy shit. Now, I’m wondering how he could be so stupid.”
“I could answer that,” a warm female voice said behind them.
Steve looked up and grinned. “Chrissy!”
Eddie stood up and turned around to see one of the prettiest female omegas he ever seen. Her strawberry blonde hair was artfully pulled back in a wavy bun, highlighting her green eyes and dazzling smile. She wore a pink mermaid tail dress that had feathers on her hips and on the train. She held a matching clutch.
She gave Steve a hug. “I’m sorry Tommy was an douchebag tonight, cher. But I’m here now.”
Steve relaxed, the last bit of tension bleeding from his frame with her casual support.
“So why would d-bag want a client over working the room if the gains are greater working the room?” Eddie asked, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.
He had changed, too. The tuxedo pants had been replaced by leather ones, and he wore a band tee under a leather jacket. His knee high boots gave him a little extra height on Steve even in his own heels.
Chrissy smiled up at him. “Because if you’re working the room, that means you weren’t good enough to get a client going to the Grammy’s. It’s about the prestige of being with a big name artist. And that clout can’t be bought. Steve here is going to get more requests being at Eddie’s side, then I will from working the room.”
Robin snorted. “Only because Steve’s that hot.”
Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. He really did have the best of friends.
Chrissy giggled. “There’s a little bit to that, sure. But the salient point is that Tommy is jealous because he knows that even with Eddie courting Steve, Steve is going to make a hell of a lot more money than Tommy could hope to dream of in just this year.”
“He was trying to upset the escorts on jobs so that they would leave,” Troy said, “which would free up the clients for those only working the room.”
Steve and Chrissy gave Troy an appraising eyebrow, impressed.
“Sounds about right,” Steve said. “Which means leaving would be giving in to his schemes. Plus, Chrissy is here now. That makes the party way more fun.”
Eddie held out his hand and helped Steve to his feet. “Whatever you want, princess. I am but yours to command.”
Steve wagged his eyebrows. “Something I’ll consider for tonight.”
Robin and Chrissy wolf whistled.
Troy just shook his head. With Robin in tow, Troy melded back into the crowds to keep an eye on Steve from a distance.
Chrissy was introduced to the band. Jeff was immediately smitten by her charms.
He was falling over his feet to impress her.
“Jeffy here writes our music,” Eddie told her and Steve. “I write the lyrics and he turns them into songs. Really I have the easy part. He does all the heavy lifting.”
Gareth, immediately picking up on where Eddie was going with this followed that up with, “Yeah. Which considering he boxes to stay in shape it’s really easy for him.”
“You box?” Chrissy asked, all interest. “Do you actually get in the ring or do you just go up against punching bags to prevent ruining the prettiest face of the band?”
Steve hissed at her, “You take that back! Eddie is the hottest member of the band.”
“Hottest guitarist, maybe,” Elinor huffed. “Hottest member is clearly Gareth.”
The three alphas were starting to growl when Brian stepped in. “Guys, guys. You’re all very pretty. The prettiest. Now can we move on?”
Just when everyone had calmed down, he said, “Besides we all know the best looking one in the band is me!”
His friends dogpiled him and wrestled him to the ground.
Chrissy leaned over to Steve as the four of the tussled. “Do they do this often?”
Steve just shrugged. He hadn’t had the chance to hang out with band yet.
Elinor rolled her eyes. “They are like this all the time. In a minute or so, they’ll get tired, give up and move on like nothing has happened. They’ll straighten their clothes and hair, all the better for it.”
Sure enough they did just that.
Brian looked the worst for wear considering he had been the one under attack, but nothing was torn or out of place and quite quickly they were looking like nothing had happened.
“I love these dorks,” Eddie murmured. “So, so much.”
Steve kissed his cheek. “That’s good, because I think you’re stuck with them, being in a band and all.”
Jeff giggled. “Is he stuck in here with us, or are we stuck in here with him?”
Steve tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Oh, definitely the latter.”
“Hey!” Eddie protested.
Gareth shook his head. “No, no. I’m with Steve on this one. We are definitely stuck in here with you.”
“Traitors,” he muttered darkly.
Steve nuzzled his scent gland and Eddie’s alpha purred. It took every ounce of Steve’s professionalism he had to keep the replying chirp quiet enough that only Eddie could hear.
Eddie grinned. “Just let me make the rounds one more time and then you and I will get out of here.”
Steve nodded and then watched him go. He grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed in one gulp.
Chrissy’s eyes went wide and she slipped her arm through his and murmured, “Come on, cher. Let’s talk, you look like you need it.”
Steve nodded and followed her outside to get some fresh air. Once there he told her all about his night and not just the Tommy fuckery.
“I was standing there already feeling jealous about the gorgeous female omega actress that he was talking to and then Tommy came in and poked at my other biggest insecurity and I just crumpled...”
Chrissy put her arm around his shoulder and laid her head on his chest.
“You’re going to have to decide if that side of his job is going to be worth it, because if you’re freaking out over him just talking to an actress,” she said gently, “how are you going to fare when he goes on tour?”
Steve sighed. It was one of the reasons that Neil never requested to court him. Being on tour all the time, the constantly being away from Steve who was very much of fixture of LA.
“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “But he stirs something inside me that I have never felt before and it’s addicting. It feels like flying and I worry that I’ll fly too close to the sun and fall.”
“Soar anyway, Steve,” she advised him. “It’s scary and it’s new. But soar anyway. You deserve a chance at happiness, just be sure to tell Eddie when you feel this way. Because he’s not a mind reader. He can’t see what’s happening behind his back.”
Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Eddie was told Tommy was harassing you,” Chrissy said. She held up her hand before Steve could say anything. “Now before you get all in your head thinking that he had to be told to come to your rescue, we both know that’s not true. But he had to be told you were in danger. Because it was happening where he couldn’t see. So you have to tell him when you’re feeling left out or jealous, because if it’s happening where he can’t see, he can’t fix it.”
Steve let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I see what you mean. If I had been more honest about the actress, Eddie would have already been by my side and maybe Tommy would have still approached or not, but probably not.”
She nodded. She turned around and saw Eddie looking for Steve. She spun Steve around and pushed him toward Eddie.
“Now go get your man.”
Steve stumbled into the venue and began moving quickly so he could reach Eddie faster.
Suddenly Eddie had an armful of soft omega.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured into Steve’s ear, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. “You ready to go home?”
“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Take me home, Eds.”
****
Part 15 Part 16 Part 17
The confrontation with Tommy had been stewing in my head since I first starting writing the story, originally it was going to be with the Nancy and Billy at New Yorker party but there was already too much going on in that chapter so it got moved here.
Tag List CLOSED: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369
@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi
@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv
@wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee
@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination
@genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt
@apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr
@ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf
@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium
#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#omegaverse#alpha eddie munson#rockstar eddie munson#omega steve harrington
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archive link - a victim of the Seoul National University men’s “deepfake porn” chatrooms posted about here previously shares her statement to the court. this article is originally in english, coming from the Hankyoreh english version news site
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An SNU graduate victimized by malicious, sexually explicit deepfakes of her made by classmates appeals to the court to hold those responsible for the torment of her and women like her for the pain they have inflicted
In a Telegram channel with around 1,300 members, there are individual chat rooms for 70 colleges and universities across the country. The bolded text are names of universities. (captures from Telegram)
“We’re not whores or sluts; we don’t exist to satisfy somebody’s sexual urges. We’re dignified human beings, each with our own careers and dreams.”
That’s part of the statement that Ruma (a pseudonym) intends to submit to a Korean court. Ruma is one of several graduates of Seoul National University whose faces appeared on sexually explicit deepfakes that were produced and distributed by men they had studied with at university.
In July 2021, Ruma was sent pornographic deepfakes displaying her face by an anonymous individual on Telegram. In May 2024, three years after Ruma first learned about the crime, two perpetrators, both graduates of her university, were arrested. The perpetrators are currently on trial, charged with violating the Act on Special Cases Concerning the Punishment of Sexual Crimes.
Ruma first reported the crime to the police in July 2021, but for nearly two years, four separate police stations that looked into the case were unable to catch the perpetrators.
Nevertheless, Ruma didn’t give up. Instead, she teamed up with other victims to track down the criminals. “I was just hoping that nobody else would have to deal with this kind of pain,” she explained.
There have been several reports about the illegal distribution of pornographic deepfakes in certain university communities. The typical pattern of behavior goes like this: Pornographic deepfakes are created using photographs of “friends” or “acquaintances” at school or in the community, distributed on Telegram and shared with the victims as a form of bullying.
These victims are not to blame for what are obviously sex crimes. Nevertheless, they often feel unable to talk about the grievous harm they have suffered from people they know from their schools, jobs and local communities.
There seems to be a lack of awareness in Korean society about the pain suffered by individuals whose photographs have been manipulated to create these sexually explicit images. That is why we are sharing with our readers the statement that Ruma will be submitting to the Seoul Central District Court. Ruma’s statement to the court
Your Honors,
First of all, I would like to express my sincere gratitude for allowing me to share my story as a victim before the court. While preparing my statement, I reflected on the three years and one month that have passed from the time I was first harmed until the present.
That was when dozens of pornographic images digitally altered to include my face and videos of men masturbating to them were dropped in my lap by an anonymous account, when I saw multiple perpetrators insulting and mocking me in a chatroom where my photographs and personal information had been shared, and when, not long after that, I came to realize that all this had been perpetrated by people I’d studied with at university.
It turned out that while I’d been working on my doctorate overseas with the hope of shedding light on the lives and language of the underprivileged and helping to improve our schools and other institutions, my own university acquaintances had been calling me a “cum bucket,” “whore” and “slave” behind my back. Confronted with that fact, the world I thought I’d known came crashing down around me.
It was a nightmare having to face people whenever I woke up in the morning. For the first time since I was born, I found myself thinking I didn’t want to live in this world any longer. There’s a single reason I have nevertheless persevered in tracking down these criminals and bringing them to justice: Nobody should have to suffer as I have. Nobody should be objectified simply for being a woman. And nobody should be treated as a tool for soothing the inferiority complex of people such as the defendants in this case.
We’re not whores or sluts; we don’t exist to satisfy somebody’s sexual urges. We’re dignified human beings, each with our own careers and dreams. We must no longer remain silent when people, having forgotten those facts, eagerly commit wicked crimes that they attempt to justify by being online, in the arrogant assumption they will not be caught, and with contempt for the judicial system. We must not condone such people because they undermine trust in our society and devastate the lives of their victims.
Your Honors, if I may speak as the individual who has suffered more than anyone else because of this incident, undoing that harm could take years — indeed, it may take the rest of my life. My personal information and photographs, along with the deepfakes based on them, have already been distributed to any number of random people, and I’ve been suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder for more than three years now. In addition, I’ll have to spend the rest of my life in fear and anxiety that numerous people who were involved in the crime but have not been apprehended may still be out there somewhere, still making use of the deepfakes of me.
For those reasons, it is urgent that these two defendants serve a prison sentence that fits their crime and that measures be taken to ensure that even after their release, they will live responsibly without harming other people. That’s the only way I will be able to regain faith in society and recover the strength to go on living. Your Honors, the judgment you render will be the first critical step in that process of recovery.
In consideration of the immense harm this incident has caused me and the dozens of other victims, the many people in our circles of friends and family members, and beyond that, our society as a whole, I earnestly petition you to give the defendants the most severe punishment available, without any clemency.
By Park Hyun-jung, staff reporter
#south korea#misogyny#seoul national university#deepfake crimes#deepfake ai#korean feminism#telegram#디지털 성범죄
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Beast Wars: Second Chances - The Covers
Originally posted on February 2nd, 2011
Cover A - Daniel Olsén Covers B & C - Seb Quickstrike - Ed Pirrie Depth Charge - Loke Mei Yin Snarl vs Terrorsaur - James Ferrand Waspinator - Jeremy Tiongson Dinobot sketch - Matt Frank
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wada sez: Okay, this one was as much a surprise to me as it is to you. Prolific Mosaic contributor Mike Priest asked me if I had any plans to archive Beast Wars: Second Chances, a full-length comic he originally pitched in a similar vein to War Journal and Spotlight: Stunticons. As nearly all the writers and artists who worked on this one were also Mosaic contributors, and I’ve always felt like there weren’t enough Beast Wars strips in Mosaic, and because Mike asked nicely, I couldn’t say no! Thanks to Mike’s involvement, I’ve got the original scripts and his original story treatment, titled Beast Wars: Beyond, which you can read below—although the final story ended up wildly different, if you want to read along without any spoilers whatsoever, I’d recommend coming back to this post later! It seems that Matt Frank was originally tapped for the project, as he produced a sketch of Dinobot which you can see below, but no further contributions from him ever surfaced.
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Okay, this is my initial rough pitch for the story.
Again, anything and everything here is mutable and subject to tweaking and whatever, or downright ignoring and trashing. I won’t cry.
We start roughly a month or two Earth-time after Primal’s crew left. The first page should explain this and whatever, and then something akin to “BUT SOMETHING STILL STIRS on this planet!” Cut to Depthcharge dragging himself out of the surf.
(I’m trying to work AROUND the Mosaic “Eternal”, making it more retroactively tied-in.)
We establish Waspinator as leader of the proto-human tribe, out on a hunt or something with some other humans. Perhaps some brief proto-human comedy before we hit the nitty-gritty.
We establish Depthcharge wandering around, arguing with himself, totally nuts, screaming at no one in-particular (He’s arguing with Rampage, who only responds through text boxes, so to anyone else, DC looks like a nut).
Waspinator encounters Depthcharge, is initially scared and confused, but decides, what the hey, see what’s up with fishie-bot. Waspinator honestly is curious/wants to help.
Depthcharge, in a confused, blind rage, grabs Waspinator and viciously beats him near to death. And not in a funny, usual-Waspinator way. He’s pleading, BEGGING for Depthcharge to stop. I’m talking the reader needs to actually feel really bad for Waspinator; he is an endearing character and kind of our “hero” for this story.
Only when some of Waspinator’s human tribe start hitting Depthcharge with rocks and spears does he snap out of it, and is literally horrified at what’s he done to poor Waspinator. (Rampage is in ecstasy though; this is exactly what he wants to turn Depthcharge into; a killer like Rampage himself).
Depthcharge retreats, transforms to jet mode and flies off, horrified at what he’s become.
The proto-humans can’t do anything to help the dying, whimpering Waspinator. So they make a stretcher and begin carrying him home.
Only they don’t make it. Something attacks and kills them; Waspinator is too weak to help them. And it takes Waspinator’s remains. (Hints of a giant metal spider, perhaps in this sequence)
We establish Tarantulas. Or rather an AI program that approximates Tarantulas’ personality and goals. It is housed in a sub-level of Tarantulas’ former lair. He “lives” through his Steel Tech proxy body, the (black and grey Transmetal Tarantulas), but he cannot particularly control it too well/or it really is just a poor substitute for a sparked body.
Tarantulas has a blank stasis pod that was affected by the Quantum Surge. He plugs Waspinator’s spark into it. And Transmetal Waspinator is born. Waspinator comes back online strapped to a table, with the Steel Tech drone working on him (And Tarantulas’ face on a computer screen, establishing that he really is housed in his lair’s “hard drive”)
Tarantulas explains that he still has to accomplish the Tripredacus Council’s goals, even after death, and Waspinator is one of his new tools.
Faux-Tarantulas ALSO reveals that he has the bodies of Scorponok and Terrorsaur (both Transmetalized), which he recovered from the lava pit. (TM Terrorsaur’s fine, but a new design for Transmetal Scorponok is essential. NOT the McDonald’s toy design. Make him larger and bulkier and his third mode should have flight capability- this is important for later)
Fitting all three with “neural implants” that ensure obedience, Tarantulas explains he will use them to breach the Ark and carry out its destruction (His Steel Tech drone isn’t dexterous or durable enough to fight through the Ark’s automated defenses).
And Waspinator is a test subject. Tarantulas releases him from his bonds and orders him to obey. The neural implant holds, and Tarantulas decides to send Waspinator for a test-drive. Waspinator speeds out of the lair in his new jet mode.
As he travels over the landscape, he is watched by someone new on the ground. We don’t find out who it is YET. Just a close up of a wide, toothy grin and an “Interesting”.
Meanwhile Depthcharge is having a nervous breakdown. Rampage is slowly driving him insane, and Depthcharge starts repeatedly trying to kill himself. It is MESSED UP, including Depthcharge throwing himself on his own sword, tearing bits off, and such. But all the damage heals. Exhausted and pained, Depthcharge suddenly becomes aware of a visitor watching him.
Cue DINOBOT II, standing arrogantly and grinning down on Depthcharge, telling him it won’t work.
Both Depthcharge and Rampage are surprised to see him. Rampage particularly.
Meanwhile, Waspinator’s test-drive includes going back to his proto-human village and is ordered to raze it to the ground by Tarantulas. But Waspy surprises Tarantulas (and the audience) by fighting the neural implant and eventually succeeding in burning it out, overcoming Tarantulas’ will by plumbing that can-do never-give-up Waspinator spirit and his genuine affection for the proto-humans. Tarantulas is surprised by this, but notes he has back-ups anyway, activating Scorponok and Terrorsaur.
Back with Depthcharge and Dinobot, who, of note, acts somewhat uncharacteristically, giving half-answers and grinning a lot. Rampage begins to suspect something is different or wrong with Dinobot.
Meanwhile, Scorponok and Terrorsaur are both activated and forced into line by the neural implants. Terrorsaur is still his arrogant self, but Scorponok is more quiet and almost more professional (It’ll be seen/developed that he’s a bit disillusioned that Megatron never saw fit to recover him from the lava pit). Anyway, as neither of them have any particular strong will to oppose the neural implant, they go to carry out Tarantulas’ orders to attack the Ark.
We establish the VOK, who realize the danger to the time stream is not yet over. The two that “killed” Tarantulas decide to intervene. They go to where Tigerhawk died and begin pulling his shattered pieces together with their powers. (Tigerhawk would be dead, just a zombie shell animated by these Vok and while his body is whole, it is in horrendous shape, missing an optic, generally looking like a terrifying zombie).
Meanwhile Waspinator is speeding along, knowing somehow he has to go back and stop Tarantulas, when he sees Scorponok and Terrorsaur in their new Transmetal vehicle modes, headed in the Ark’s direction, along with Tarantulas‘ Steel Tech proxy body. Waspinator isn’t particularly positive he can take both of them, even with his new body, so he decides to go look for “crazy fishie-bot” and hopes Depthcharge is somewhat more lucid now.
Back with Depthcharge and Dinobot, Rampage suddenly senses a familiarity between his own spark and Dinobot and realizes Dinobot’s shell is now possessed by STARSCREAM!
Guilty as charged, Dino-Scream shrugs. He’s been stuck in this time zone for a while and returned to the planet, but everyone’s left now. So he looked for the Nemesis (Hoping to find something there he can possess without damaging history) and found Dinobot II’s ravaged, sparkless shell. Possessing that and healing its injuries, Starscream set out for the Ark next.
Before anything can be done, Waspinator finds them, telling them (as best as he can) about Tarantulas’ plan to destroy the Ark and what not.
Depthcharge and Starscream don’t want to be erased from history, so they agree to help (Rampage even finds it interesting).
Faux-Tarantulas, Scorponok and Terrorsaur arrive at the Ark, and the latter two fight their way through Teletraan-1’s automated defenses (which come out of “sleep mode”). Faux-Tarantulas hangs back.
But by the time they make it through, Waspinator, Dino-Scream, and Depthcharge/Rampage arrive.
We have a three-on-three battle. Scorponok fights Depthcharge/Rampage (Scorpy’s new Transmetal body is bigger than his old one and almost a match for Depthcharge, even with the new ferocity that Rampage’s presence in his mind gives him). Scorponok angsts over his abandonment by Megatron while they fight. Terrorsaur fights the groundbound Starscream/Dinobot II (Starscream grumbles that this body sucks cuz it can’t fly) and manages to actually hold it off, as Starscream is unaccustomed to fighting like this.
Waspinator faces off against the Steel Tech Drone, and despite some initial trepidation, realizes he’s far more powerful now than any drone and takes the faux-Tarantulas down easily once his confidence is up.
Meanwhile, the zombie Vok-possessed Tigerhawk arrives at Tarantulas’s lair, runs roughshod over the meager defenses, and destroys the Tarantulas’ hard drive/AI for good.
This causes the neural implants in Scorponok and Terrorsaur to fail, and they stop fighting now that they are no longer under Tarantulas’ will.
Confused at what is going on, everyone leaves the Ark. The Vok-possessed zombie Tigerhawk arrives.
First order of business is noticing Dinobot II. The Vok declare (The Transmetal II clone body) an “abomination” and perversion of their technology. (Starscream’s like “Whoa, wait a minute!”)
The Vok incinerate Dinobot II’s shell in a blast of lightning from Tigerhawk. We don’t see what happens to Starscream’s spark.
The Vok explain that the constant interference with the timeline has TO STOP, and tells everyone to get the hell off the planet.
Of course, everyone is like “uh, HOW?”
The Vok tells everyone to go into Earth orbit. They will self-destruct Tigerhawk’s remains, with the release of alien energies ripping a Transwarp wormhole that’ll send everyone back to the right era.
Everyone of course is like “But…how do we get home from the middle of space?”
And the Vok of course are like “We don’t care, you’re going back to your rightful place in history or we’ll just kill you here and dump you there”
So everyone engages flight modes and follows Zombie-Tigerhawk up into space. They stand back and the Vok do as they promised, detonating Tigerhawk’s shell and making a wormhole. Everyone flies through in a flash, the Vok take their leave with some end dialogue about cleaning up some more small glitches or whatever.
Everyone arrives in the middle of space, nowheresville. Depthcharge isn’t hanging with these “Preds” anymore and “Besides, I’ve got enough company as it is”. He flies off into the nothingness of space, deciding to either find a way to deal with living with Rampage…or destroying them both.
Waspinator and Scorponok get into an argument about which direction Cybertron is, which ends in Waspinator engaging his jet mode and flying off alone. Scorponok sighs and goes in the opposite direction, asking if Terrorsaur is coming.
Terrorsaur (who hasn’t said a word since they left Earth) just widely grins and unseen to Scorponok, we see the ghost of Starscream possessing Terrorsaur’s frame. “Sure thing, pal.” He follows Scorponok.
END.
Notes-
*Inferno and Quickstrike…well, seeing as Quickstrike’s head was hollowed out and made into a mask, I think they’re a little harder to swallow as still alive.
*I kinda tried to do the exact opposite of what the Botcon comics did…bring Tigerhawk back (albeit a Vok-possessed zombie) instead of Tigatron and Airazor.
*When the zombie Tigerhawk destroys the Tarantulas AI core, depending on preference, we can have him say “You last bit of Unicron” or some such, depending if everyone agrees on Tarantulas’s origins.
*I have Starscream possessing Dinobot’s shell and later Terrorsaur, trying to avoid the clichéd possessing of Transmetal Waspinator.
#Transformers#Beast Wars - Second Chances#Maccadam#Beast Wars#Daniel Olsén#Seb#Ed Pirrie#Loke Mei Yin#James Ferrand#Jeremy Tiongson#Matt Frank#official creator#Dinobot#Depth Charge#Rampage#Waspinator#Inferno#Quickstrike#Tarantulas#Terrorsaur#Snarl
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okay so your post abt alpha-17 and the other alpha arcs got me thinking (and im sorry for using you as sw google but in my mind you're Alpha Legends Lore mutual) who ARE the oldest clones? I feel like everything got... really confusing with a bunch of super secret REAL first clones getting shuffled into the order. is boba the oldest? in my mind it goes 1 boba 2 nulls 3 alphas 4 the rest of the initial clones that obi-wan saw in aotc but I have no bloody clue 😭
I AM HONORED TO BE YOUR LEGENDS LORE GOOGLE MUTUAL
ok so. sources probably conflict bc this is star wars, of course they do. what i care about is repcomm so we're just gonna go with that as our primary source with wookieepedia as secondary sources
first we gotta get some dates. unfortunately star wars doesnt really give months for most dates but years is still a starting place. these dates are all pulled from wookieepedia, legends page when applicable/different
also we're using geonosis as our date reference point since the timeline is honestly so hard to work with
order 66 happens 19 bby
1st battle of geonosis, 22 bby, the clone wars are 3 years long
boba fett's birth date is listed as 32 bby, meaning he was 10 at geonosis. cody, rex, ordo, fi, spar, and sull are all also listed with a birth date of 32 bby, so we're down to a difference of months here. essentially they're all the same age though- boba himself, troopers, nulls, commandos, and alphas
I REPEAT. ALPHA IS NOT SIGNIFICANTLY OLDER THAN THE CORE OF THE GAR. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. HE ISNT THE ONLY ALPHA EITHER.
but who's actually oldest? and is wookieepedia entirely correct? this is the part where i open repcomm and ignore everything else. i don't even know if anything else contradicts because i'm not checking
chapter 1 of triple zero, kal has just arrived on kamino. it's eight years before geonosis, and 2 years into the cloning program
(ALSO ITS SO FUCKING GREAT THAT THIS IS KAL'S INTRODUCTORY LINE LMAOOO <3)
he does see a lot of clone babies in gestation vats, just like we see in attack of the clones as well as cadets of varying ages- the kaminoans continue producing troopers through the entire ten years of the cloning program, so yes, the 'first generation' (clones deployed at geonosis) ARE older than a lot of later clones. but we dont really have a lot of those later clones as named characters as far as i know
anyways
the nulls appear to kal to be 4 or 5 (also peep jango apparently being legitimately shocked by them)
chronologically the nulls are NEARLY two, which probably means like 1 year and 11 months or something
(pause for me to cry about this entire scene, 'kal was instantly proud of all of them,' 'how would you like to be called ordo, he was a mandalorian warrior,' kal teaching them to embrace their fear as a mechanism their body uses to help protect them, but this is gonna be long enough as it is)
and then we have jango showing up with boba. no real indication of if boba or the nulls are actually older, but it's implied that they're very very close in actual age, if not the same age. we also get mention of the commandos and the alphas.
now, this is now just down to what i think and what makes sense to me. the whole point of the nulls is that they were experimental units- the kaminoans wanted to see if tinkering with the genome would be worth it, and ultimately decided it wasn't. it would actually make sense to me if the nulls were at least a year or two older than the rest of the clones- the kaminoans need time to see if their experiment panned out, don't they? but the nulls are also 10 at geonosis
while the nulls have been flash-trained and put through some trial runs at this point, it's indicated that the alphas and commandos aren't quite ready for training yet. this could be because the alphas and commandos are just a bit too young yet, it could be that the kaminoans put the nulls through training at a younger age than they're doing for non-experimental units. not totally clear
this is another point that is important to me: multiple times the nulls pass for clone troopers. i keep seeing headcanons of them being noticeably taller/bigger than other clones and while it is true that they're canonically slightly heavier, i think the difference is probably like 10-20 pounds, most people cannot easily tell the difference. ordo puts on corr's armor and just notes that it's slightly tighter than he's used to. mereel infiltrated kamino in trooper armor unnoticed, even while directly speaking to a kaminoan
here is my opinion on it: -the nulls and boba are basically the same age -the alphas were created next, but a few months after. by this point the kaminoans had decided (possibly because of the nulls' high mortality rate in gestation) that the alphas would be fully unaltered aside from the accelerated aging. the nulls' behavior 'issues' proved to the kaminoans that this was the right call -the commandos were created at the same time or shortly after the alphas. we're talking within weeks if not days. they have minor genetic changes to work better as a team but that's about it. -the troopers then begin production, now that the kaminoans have lots of practice altering jango's genome. heavy alteration for better social cooperation and obedience. -we're talking a span on like 4 months for all of this
you could say that ordo's gray hairs support the nulls being maybe 4-6 months older than everybody else, but i really think he is just that stressy, and there's also book evidence for clones actually aging at variable rates depending on how much stress they're under
quick note for omega: i think her existence is just insane and she's only here because disney was making a children's show and needed a child character (and girl so they can get inclusivity points), but i could see her being made anywhere from at the same time as boba to up to 3 years later. her wookieepedia page doesn't say, because the bad batch never bothered to give us any concrete information on... anything.
WE ARENT EVEN TOUCHING ON EMERIE. WHAT THE FUCK
#verp answers#repcomm#republic commando#book quote#null arcs#lore#fanon hate#bad batch negative#hope that helps and makes sense sorry to derail into bad batch hate at the end there lol#rushing the end of this bc i have dnd in 4 minutes
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2024 ramble with th3-0, and a longer goodbye than usual…
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Folks, it’s a brand-new year, the porn bots are out in full force on Tumblr once again, and around this time every year I take a little ritualistic break to recover from the events of the previous year. This time, the break will be a little longer than usual because the events were more harrowing than normal. The wheels of time sure are making a massive clunking noise as they spin these days! I’ll likely start posting again around mid-year (June or July, maybe even later). I’ve got lots of work to do first, and I want to have plenty of fresh materials to come back with. Firstly, I’ll get positive for a beat. I released my most popular painting of all time on Tumblr this year. This baby has gotten nearly 700 hits in the past few months! Color me humble. I’m honored to put out modern art on Tumblr that people seem to enjoy. A lot of you out there in 24’ kept saying things like ‘OMG, the colors!’ or ‘I love the colors!!’ this year when I put out new art. Lemme tell you a little secret about myself; as an outsider artist, I know precisely two things about color theory; 1. Jack and 2. Shit. And Jack was an independent contractor who found better paying work elsewhere. I think what I’m being told is that I have natural instincts with color combinations, and this… makes me very, very happy. After half a decade on this platform, I sometimes get hundreds of hits in a single day nowadays… for doing absolutely nothing! I can literally just sit here, typing this paragraph and have 10-20 sudden hits for absolutely no reason other than I posted something in 202-whatever. Flawed it maybe, Tumblr is still my favorite social media website.
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My dogs, Chipper and Ruby, just wanted to send their salutations. Y'know, a LOT of people on Tumblr went fucking apeshit on their blogs last year. Most went crazy about politics; others just went plain gonzo and started revealing things about their declining mental health that are best kept a secret. There’s nothing wrong with having a screw loose, I’ve got a few loose screws myself. But I ended up unfollowing and soft blocking some blogs that I used to enjoy, and in mid-24’ a lot of ‘art blogs’ out there suddenly started using their pages as political propaganda foundries. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; there’s nothing in the world that is more useless than lazy ass, uninformed online slacktivism. Some of you truly astonished me with how you went out of your way to antagonize *your own audience on Tumblr* with your breathless, pedantic dipshittery. The side that you DON’T vote for, whether it be Republican or Democrat, DOES NOT have some kind of monopoly on ‘evil’. Our entire political system is rife with corruption, and you too are fully capable of electing tone-deaf, incompetent, irresponsible people that produce endless international conflicts, endless debt, censorship and the gradual ethical degradation of the entire nation. If you insist on using Tumblr as your political bullhorn, here’s how to get independent voters, like me, on your side and stop being so damn polarizing in 6 steps:
Be humble and NEVER have a public meltdown on social media in anything but an obvious farce, it makes you look paranoid, foolish, frightened and weak.
NEVER underestimate your political opponents; some of them are better informed, more accurate and more righteous than yourself.
Get out of your echo chamber, there is no nuance in there. Learn to listen to the points of your political opponents CALMLY.
Conduct extensive amounts of research into the issues and candidates that are important to you, and significant issues that are not, and become a more informed voter.
Don’t argue with a strawman or knock down a strawman and expect everyone to be impressed. Acquire the patience and knowledgebase to conduct actual back-and-forth conversations with THE TOUGHEST of your political adversaries whereby you gradually persuade your opponent to your side with friendly discussion, sympathetic gotcha-moments, some hard facts, some dead-seriousness and lots of humor.
You’re going to lose some elections, so learn to lose with GRACE. Don’t let them see you sweat and come back during the next election season with stronger, more reasonable arguments and a more well-rounded perspective, and your victory will be all but assured.
You know what I’m going to do in 25’ instead of bitching and moaning about the dumbass political class!? I’m gonna try my hand at making music this year! You know what else I’m going to do!? I’m going to try and develop a living, breathing mythology for a fantasy story I want to start writing in the next few years. If you need to unfollow my page, I can’t say I blame you, it’s gonna be a while. I know plenty of you are out there suffering from ever-increasing disasters and financial strain, and I’m right there with you. Sometimes I need a break from social media for a course correction in life, and that’s why I’m leaving for a bit. My alt-links are right down below, I’m going radio silent for now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love ya.
Make it a better year than last, - th3-0bjectivist (Luke)
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The 0bjectivist on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC2sONH8IwzL_2sZie0ZNSnw/
I’m also on BitChute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/uvKfJpNkzkIL/
FULL ART GALLERY and crispier artgifs on DeviantArt at: https://www.deviantart.com/th3-0bjectivist/gallery
#this page#page update#see you mid-year or so#24' sucked#let's make 25' a positive year#i only had a smoke because it was snowing in NC last week#more art and music soon#but not that soon#catch you later Tumblrz#love you guys#big ups for the likes and reposts
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Sending more Rockstar!Cove love! Need some spicy stuff in here though.
Please knock before entering his dressing room or trailer. Everyone knows that by now. Barging in there will cause you to see stuff you do not want to see.
He's not afraid to post more private stuff about his love life on his socials. Do you think he's going to just stop what he's doing because someone "urgently" needed him?
(He's about to be late and has absolutely no sense of time at all anymore.)
-🎸
YES! YES YES YES!!!! everyone sees the shit he posts of you/your relationship online. everything from romantic to more or less erotic.
so really, the staff on the set should know not to be careless when you're on the set as well. because cove is diligent and kind when he's working. he loves what he does, and he's not the typical big headed rockstar he presents as.
he's serious, dedicated to his craft.. a little rough, sure, very reserved and otherwise quiet unless he's commanding the scene.
but he's also dedicated to you. the whole world is convinced that he would drop music if you asked him to, that's how much he loves you.
really, the amount of times someone on set has walked in on cove going down on you is insane.
he does his due diligence by closing the door or finding a "secluded" place. they just need to do their part by not busting in, walking by, or opening the wrong curtain, is that so hard?
his manager can lecture him all he wants about public indecency. I mean, was it really indecent though? he was in his dressing room when he had you bent over the vanity, not the public bathroom. it's not his fault the mua's new assistant walked in for... whatever her reason was again.
and when he has to record a new song, his fans eagerly waiting the tease of a new album, well he has to take care of his beloved first.
making sure you're fat n happy is his number one priority. always making sure your material needs are met, your necessities. you have more cars and houses in your name than the two of you will ever need, and more money in your account than you could spend even if you used it to blow your nose.
and with all that met... that just leaves cove to love you up, kiss you and hold you, and spoil you with his time, affection, and gifts. and sexually.
he's been so busy preparing for the new album, he hasn't had nearly enough time to spend with you. and you're so needy today, your body pressed against his, gently waking him up from his sleep by rubbing on his body, kissing him gentle and whispering in his ear pleads to wake up and fuck you...
so yeah, when he picks up the phone, of course the producer is gonna hear the bed creak, and of course, he can hear the breathlessness and the gravel in cove's voice as he fucks you through the alaskan king mattress.
and of course, he hands up on him! the song can wait. it's been written for months, so instead of breathing down his neck, why don't they fix the tempo like he told them to, and he'll be in as soon as you cum around his dick two or three more times, maybe even more if anyone else blows up his phone.
so okay. maybe cove does tap into the typical rockstar assholery, but it's not his fault. his baby needs to be pleased whenever they want, and he certainly can't keep his hands off you as it is, let alone when he's been busy with work.
he'll try to keep the indecency down to a reasonable level (his manager screamed at that), but only if everyone remembers to be a little mindful of their ears and eyes if they don't want to see or hear you two reach heaven together.~
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What is Expected, What is Understood (The Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts) Part 1
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Rating: Explicit Fandoms: Niehime to Kemono no Ou | Sacrificial Princess & the King of Beasts Relationships: Sariphi & Leonhart, Amit & Jormungand Additional Tags: Loss of Virginity, Blood Mention, Discussion of Conception, Discussion of Pregnancy, Discussions of Oral Sex, Detailed Descriptions of Sex, Discussion of Menstruation, Breeding, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Extension of Canon Words: 4929
It's been four years since their wedding and, for one reason or another, Sariphi and Leonhart still have not consummated their union. Under the constant pressure to produce an heir, and after a disastrous first attempt, they realize they are unprepared and decide to hire a midwife.
This one has been up on my Ao3 for a while, but I decided to bring it to tumblr. Please reblog and leave feedback!
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Four years had passed so quickly since the wedding that it felt to Sariphi like it had been no time at all. Even still, she often struggled to believe it was real and not some fanciful fever dream she had conjured up as a coping mechanism as she waited in passive acceptance for the day of sacrifice to arrive.
Now nineteen, Sariphi was a little less impulsive than she had been when she first came to the kingdom, making a conscious effort to conduct herself with more dignity and grace now that she was queen, but she was no less enthusiastic and eager. Her influence was felt in every corner of the palace, like a breath of fresh air. Staff who had been working in the palace since the time of the previous king could feel a dramatic difference in the atmosphere: the palace had been tense and darkly oppressive during the reign of the former king, while it was silently somber and cold after His Majesty had ascended the throne. Sariphi’s presence had made the palace warmer, lighter, and more brilliantly bright in comparison.
After many, many intensive lessons, Sariphi had finally taken on some of the administrative work from Anubis within the last few months, with Amit as her assistant. The work was hard but rewarding, and Sariphi was simply happy to be helpful. Even so, it was still two months before Anubis would let her do any of the work on her own without hovering over her shoulder, watching for mistakes.
“Should this document be filed under regional, capitol, or national?” Sariphi asked Amit one afternoon while working. “It’s an assistance request for the outer ring of the capital city, but that falls on the border with the nearby province of Reiza.”
“Hmm,” Amit said, looking over it. “Who sent the request?”
“Both the governor of Reiza and the alderman of that district of the city. It’s a joint request.”
“Ah. Perhaps make copies of it and file it under all three. That way, there would be a record of the request for every category. For reference.”
“I see.”
Before being sent as a bridal candidate and eventually becoming Sariphi’s official companion and lady-in-waiting, Amit had been thoroughly educated in administration, so her help was invaluable to Sariphi, who’d had none of that training before ascending the throne. Although it would have been expected of her to take on the administration work immediately after becoming queen if she had been a beast princess, she had been far too busy learning history, etiquette, language, and politics in the first year to even begin administration.
“We’ve been at this for hours,” Amit said, sighing. “Why don’t we take a break? I have tea and snacks I made myself. Everything was checked before I used it.”
“Who checked it?” Sariphi asked suspiciously.
“It wasn’t me!” Amit insisted. “The ingredients were tested by the imperial alchemist, I swear!”
“Hmm,” Sariphi said, taking a biscuit. “If you say so.”
Sariphi had nearly fallen victim to a couple of assassination attempts in recent years perpetrated by anti-human militants that had infiltrated the palace staff, those who still resented the king for his lineage and her for her mere existence. As a result, every bit of food and drink that was placed before her for the last year had to be tested and monitored closely from kitchen to table. Amit had tried to appoint herself Sariphi’s poison tester, but Sariphi had quashed that idea immediately. As had Jormungand.
Sariphi yawned as she accepted a cup of tea.
“Are you tired today?” Amit asked.
“Yeah,” Sariphi admitted. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Well… I heard the maids talking. They seem to feel like an heir should have been conceived by now.”
“Are you bothered by that?”
“A little.”
“You shouldn’t take it to heart, Sari,” Amit said, patting her shoulder. “They’re just worried about you.”
“It’s not just them. The royal council has been putting pressure on His Majesty about it since the wedding. Anubis has been dropping suggestions in that roundabout way he does, too. His Majesty is sick of hearing about it.”
Amit laughed. “You don’t need to worry too much about it,” She said. “You and His Majesty love each other so much that I’m sure you’ll hear good news very soon.”
Sariphi blushed and looked away. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Why not?”
“Well… we’d have to… He’d need to… we haven’t…” Sariphi stuttered to a stop and hid behind her hair, embarrassed.
Amit gasped. “You haven’t…” She squeaked and blushed as well. “Consummated your nuptials yet? Anyone against your union could use that as ammunition to force you to annul the marriage if they found out! They could use that to make His Majesty take a concubine! It’s been four years!”
“I know!” Sariphi exclaimed, and then lowered her voice. She was glad Cy and Clops weren’t there in her office at the time and that Bennu was fast asleep in his gilded cage. “But he’s never touched me and I’ve been too nervous to make a move on him. I know he’s worried about hurting me, but… I’ve also wondered… if he wasn’t interested in me like that.”
“But he loves you!” Amit said.
“I know he loves me, I’ve never doubted that he loves me, but romantic love and sexual love don’t always go hand-in-hand.”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“I’ve only brought it up once recently. He told me that I’m still young and we have lots of time and not to worry about it. I’m nervous that if I bring it up too much, he’ll shut me out. He has a bad habit of keeping his worries to himself.”
“He’s not alone in that,” Amit said shrewdly, and then covered her mouth with her hands at her own boldness.
Sariphi sighed. “I know. It’s not just about having heirs. I… I want to be more intimate with him. I want to be his wife in every possible way.”
“Have you told him that?”
“No. I guess my mistake was assuming he would already know that. I forgot that he can be hesitant when it comes to personal relationships, even when he really cares for someone. After hiding his true self for so long and only existing for the sake of the kingdom, he’s still learning to voice his desires. He doesn’t know how to be selfish or ask for things he wants for himself.”
“You should talk to him again and tell him how you feel. I really envy that you and His Majesty can talk to each other so openly. I hope Captain Jormungand and I can have that kind of relationship once we marry.”
Jormungand and Amit had been engaged for nearly half a year and their wedding was planned for spring. Sariphi was so excited to be the Matron of Honor for her, since none of Amit’s family would be attending to stand with her. Though Jormungand may have the Captain of the Imperial Guard and a talented man with many accomplishments and accolades, the royals of Murga were still affronted by the fact that Amit would be marrying a commoner. According to Amit, being shunned by her family was nothing new, since she had no value to them as the fifth princess, and although she tried to behave unperturbed, Sariphi knew she was sad about it.
Amit was acutely aware that it was a serious breach of etiquette to even ask the queen to participate in the wedding of a commoner, and though she knew Sariphi would be overjoyed to accept, she couldn’t bring herself to ask. It was Jormungand, not Amit, who asked Sariphi to be Amit’s Matron of Honor in her stead. Jormungand, who had no family, was quite unhappy that Amit’s family had snubbed her due to her marriage to him, though he knew their relationship had always been strained. He decided there was no higher honor, nor greater satisfaction, than having the queen of the realm standing in their place, especially considering the king himself would be standing for Jormungand. Sariphi agreed wholeheartedly and accepted with delight.
“You’re right,” Sariphi said. “I’ll talk to him tonight.”
Sariphi was nervous all through the dinner banquet and avoided His Majesty’s eye out of embarrassment. She could feel him staring at her, though he said nothing to her and the evening passed without fuss.
That night, after they retired for the evening, had their baths, and returned to their chambers, he caught her by the waist and easily lifted her onto his shoulder, which he was still prone to doing when they were alone. After climbing into the bed, he sat her atop his lap and caged her in his embrace.
“Out with it,” He said without preamble. “Why have you been avoiding my gaze all evening?”
“Why do you have to be so inconveniently perceptive?” Sariphi sighed exasperatedly.
“Anyone with eyes could have observed your odd behavior,” He retorted. “My queen is many things, but subtle she is not.”
“Something Anubis will probably scold me for later, I’m sure,” Sariphi agreed. “As he always says, ‘Tact and decorum is the benchmark of every great queen’.”
“Do not change the subject,” Leonhart said, squishing her face in his claws. “What troubles you?”
Sariphi sighed. “I was thinking about the heirs thing again.”
Leonhart sighed in turn. “We have discussed this. There is an abundance of time to worry about that. It is not something that requires your concern at present.”
“When should I be concerned?”
“Never. It is not worth your energy.”
“Amit said that if anyone finds out that we haven’t consummated our marriage, they could lawfully force you to take a concubine or make us get an annulment.”
“Which is why it shall not be discovered.”
“Leo… It’s not just that,” Sariphi replied. “Talking to Amit today made me realize… the reason why it bothers me isn’t just the need for an heir.”
“What is the reason, then?”
Sariphi flushed and picked at a single strand of his mane rather than looking him in the face.
“I… We… We’ve been married for four years now… and we haven’t… been intimate… and I wondered if you weren’t interested in such things.”
Leonhart was silent and Sariphi, feeling anxious, began rambling very fast.
“I know we had discussed having kids before and I know you don’t want to hurt me, but you had mentioned that you wanted to have at least two, but we need to be intimate for that to happen, but you’ve never made a move, so I thought you didn’t want to, but I–”
“Sariphi, stop,” Leonhart said, taking her chin and making her look at him. “You do not need to explain yourself, I understand what you are saying. To tell the truth… you are correct. I have been hesitant to attempt intimacy with you because I do not wish to hurt you. The difference in our size obviously means that the act would cause you immense discomfort. You did not seem to show much interest in it, either, so I assumed until now that you were satisfied to wait.”
“So… you do want to? Be intimate with me, I mean?”
“I do wish for that, yes,” Leonhart said. “Of course I do. Truthfully… I have thought of it quite often as of late, especially now that you have grown taller and gained weight. It is hard not to notice how… lovely you look, and your warm body lying next to me every night is often difficult to ignore. But as I said… I worry about hurting you.”
“Perhaps it won’t hurt,” Sariphi said optimistically. “We’ll never know until we try, right?”
“I suppose you have a point,” Leonhart agreed, though he looked skeptical. “You also truly wish to be intimate with me?”
“Yes, I do,” She said earnestly. “I’m your wife and I love you. I want to do all the things husbands and wives do.”
“I see,” He said slowly. “Do you… wish to try tonight?”
Sariphi gulped but nodded. “No time like the present. Honestly, I’ve been ready for a long time, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
“I see.” Leonhart took a deep breath. “I fear I have no experience with this. I am unsure how to begin.”
Sariphi moved off of Leonhart’s lap. Kneeling next to him and plucking up her courage, she carefully drew her nightgown over her head and off of her body, then removed her undergarments, fully exposing herself to him for the very first time. His eyes widened and his breathing sped up slightly. Rolling onto his knees as well, he reached out to touch her but stopped short, seeming unsure, looking at his large claws in dismay.
“It’s okay, Leo,” Sariphi said, moving forward to press her breast to his palm. “You can touch me. You won’t hurt me. It’s okay.”
As much as she tried to reassure him, he was still intensely cognizant that his claws could wrap around her entire body with room to spare, claws that were strong enough to rend solid stone, and his need to be careful was obvious. Instead, he turned his hand and caressed one of her nipples with the back of the claw on his first finger. She inhaled sharply and made a slight sound, biting her lip. She looked anxious, but she gazed at his face with open trust.
Leonhart leaned forward and pressed his nose to the hollow of her neck, breathing in deeply. She reached up and raked her fingers through the fur of his neck. His arms encircled her, and he pulled her bare body against his own clothed chest. He felt himself stir below, and shrugged his arms out of their sleeves. He pulled her toward him and lay her down on the bed under him, stripping off the drape around his waist and letting it fall heavily to the floor. Her beautiful body lay open to him, her silver-white hair spread out around her head like a glowing halo, and she reached for him.
Carefully lowering his body over hers, he kissed her. She moaned softly and moved underneath him, stroking his chest. He pressed his hardness to her entrance, pausing for a moment to observe her face before attempting to enter her slowly. She seemed fine at first, but as he pushed harder, her brow furrowed and her breath stuttered.
“Are you alright?” He asked.
She didn’t speak, but nodded. He continued, but stopped when she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, holding her breath.
“Are you sure I should carry on?”
“Yes,” She said, her voice strained. “It’s okay.”
He had barely moved an inch when he noticed tears gathering in her eyes, and the moment he caught the scent of blood, he removed himself and climbed off of her. Sure enough, there was blood on the sheets under her. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than enough to ruin his mood.
“Why did you stop?” Sariphi asked, wiping her eyes.
“I have hurt you, just as I feared I would,” He said, putting his clothing back on and stooping to gather up her clothes as well.
“I’ve heard it’s normal to bleed the first time,” She insisted. “Many women do.”
“It is not just that,” He said. “I could see on your face that you were in pain.”
“It wasn’t that bad, I swear!” She said, holding her nightgown to her chest. “I can do it! Even if it’s painful, I can handle it! I still have to bear your successor regardless! Everyone expects it of us!”
“As loath as I am to hurt you for my own satisfaction, I am even less inclined to do so to suit the wishes of others,” Leonhart said. “We will try again another day, when you have healed. I refuse to injure you further.”
“But–”
“No,” He said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Not tonight. It is not as though I am suggesting we never consummate, but it seems we are not ready for this yet.”
“Leo, it’s been four years.”
“I am well aware of that, Sariphi. Neither of us know much about this subject. We need… help. Advice.”
“Advice from whom?”
“I am unsure,” Leonhart admitted.
"Are there books we could read?"
"Oh, I am certain there are, but I do not even know where to begin looking, nor do I wish to ask. All I am certain of is that I do not wish to cause you further pain. There must be something we can do to make this… process… easier.” He took her nightgown out of her hands and pulled it back over her head. “I’m far more concerned with the well-being of the woman I love than I am for any amorphous children who are yet to exist. Whatever our responsibilities may be, you are my wife before you are the queen.”
“Shouldn’t it be the other way ‘round?” Sariphi asked, reluctantly pulling on her undergarments. “The queen exists for the country, so her discomfort is not important if it’s for the good of the people, right?”
“Perhaps,” He said. “But I care not. If it would cause you harm, it is not worth doing.”
“Do you not want to be intimate anymore?”
“No, I still wish for that,” He replied. “But only if it is good for us to do so. For both of us.” He pulled her back into his lap and embraced her once more. “Do not misunderstand, Sariphi. I love and desire you. That has not changed, nor will it ever. Be assured of that fact and do not fret.”
“Okay,” She said, cuddling into his chest. Though he was not one for words, he seemed to always know what she needed to hear. They lay down together and tried to sleep, but neither found much rest that night.
The next morning, His Majesty insisted that Sariphi stay in their chambers and rest for the day, calling Amit to keep her company. Sariphi had to admit, she was a little bit sore, and gratefully accepted.
“How did it go?” Amit asked once they were alone. “I heard the maids say there was blood on the sheets.”
Sariphi shook her head. “We tried, but he stopped almost immediately when I started bleeding. He says he won’t try again until we get some sort of help.”
“What sort of help?”
“I don’t know,” Sariphi admitted. “I don’t know who we could possibly ask about this.”
Amit sat quietly in deep thought. “What about a midwife?”
“Midwife?”
“Certainly,” Amit said. “A midwife could solve this problem, wouldn’t you think? Conception, pregnancy, and childbirth are the sole scope of their expertise, is it not?”
“Well, sure,” Sariphi agreed. “But is there one in the palace?”
“Oh,” Amit said contemplatively. “I’m not sure. Anubis would know. Hiring staff who work directly with the royal family is one of his many duties.”
Sariphi blushed. “I couldn’t possibly ask Anubis about this.”
“Then mention it to His Majesty and have him pass on the message to Anubis. If the palace doesn’t have a midwife, then they can find one.”
The next day, after Sariphi told His Majesty about it the night before, His Majesty sat in his office, pouring over paperwork, when he finally broached the subject with Anubis.
“Anubis.”
Anubis looked up from his own work. “Yes, Sire?”
“Does the palace have an imperial midwife at present?”
“A midwife?” Anubis echoed in surprise. “Could Her Majesty be…?”
“No,” His Majesty replied, looking into the far distance out of the closest window in an effort to appear magnanimous rather than embarrassed. “Not as of yet. It is for that reason we require such a person to seek their advice on the matter. It seems Her Majesty has been quite worried about the constant prattling on the subject of an heir, despite the fact that the queen is still quite young and we have only been married a short time.”
“Four years is plenty of time to conceive an heir, Sire,” Anubis pointed out.
His Majesty glared at him.
“I-I see,” Anubis replied hastily. “The palace has not had an imperial midwife since the passing of the previous queen. By rights, a new imperial midwife should have been appointed upon the queen’s ascension, but in the aftermath of the attempted insurrection prior to the sovereign marriage rites, and then the peace talks with Yoana directly after, it appears that the appointment was overlooked.”
“Very well. Hire one immediately.”
“Of course, sire,” Anubis said, but he paused. “Although… I am concerned that there may not be any midwife in Ozmargo willing to take the position.”
“Because the queen is human?”
“Well, yes,” Anubis said delicately.
His Majesty sighed. “I had believed this sort of discrimination would have been much reduced by now, though I suppose it is to be expected.”
“I didn’t mean necessarily in terms of discrimination. More to the point, I doubt that there are any of beastkind in the kingdom who would know how to treat a human.”
“Ah,” His Majesty said. Anubis was correct, of course. “Could we not call one from Yoana?”
“I suppose we could,” Anubis said. “But what woman in her right mind would make that journey? The way between the kingdoms is still treacherous and full of peril. Even with guaranteed security, there may not be any who would agree to such a dangerous undertaking.”
“Post a job notice regardless, in both Ozmargo and Yoana. If even one person were to answer, that would be enough to begin moving forward.”
“As you wish, Sire,” Anubis said. He bowed and excused himself.
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It took more than two months to finally get a response to the job posting. An old, bent woman of the pangolin tribe, leaning on a walking stick, ambled up to the palace after sending a notice that she would take on the position. The scales of her tail rasped across the marble floor as she walked, making something like a soft rattlesnake sound. Her eyes were bleary and brown in color with blue along the edges of the iris. She looked around the palace as if unimpressed.
Anubis, having been notified of her arrival, met her at the large double doors of the throne room.
“I understand you are the one who responded to the request for an imperial midwife?” Anubis asked without pleasantries.
“Yessir,” The old woman said, her voice cracking with age.
“Your name, so I may announce you to His Majesty?”
“Coral will do.”
“I see. Follow me.”
Anubis turned at the guardsmen manning the doors and nodded. The doors swung open, and sitting there were both His and Her Majesties. His Majesty’s throne sat center stage on the raised dais with Her Majesty’s smaller throne to his immediate right, turned slightly to face him. Sariphi wasn’t used to receiving guests while sitting on her throne yet, so she often stayed silent unless directly spoken to. His Majesty had told her she didn’t need to receive the guests if she didn’t want to, but Sariphi had insisted she wanted to take her role as queen seriously, and that included being a welcoming host.
“Your Majesties,” Anubis said, coming up and bowing. “I present Coral, the woman who has answered the request for an imperial midwife.”
“Very well,” His Majesty said, waving his hand. Anubis bowed again and stepped to the side, allowing the old woman to stagger toward the dais. “We welcome you, Coral. Before your official appointment, you must prove yourself capable of the duties you will be assigned. We have the documentation and testimonials you sent us beforehand, but that will be useless to us if you are deemed unfit for the position.”
“Seems fine,” Coral said amiably. “Although it seems like you’ve not got much choice, elseways, as I'm the only one who showed up.”
“Mind your tongue!” Anubis hissed. “You are in the presence of Their Majesties, if you’ve forgotten! Be respectful!”
“Hush up, pup,” She said, flapping her hand at him dismissively. Anubis seethed, but His Majesty waved him down “I’m as old as dirt and twice as bitter, so I ain’t all that keen on niceties. If you want to get all bent out of shape ‘cause I’m not standin’ on ceremony, you go right ahead, but I reckon I was called here for a reason, and that ain’t it.”
Sariphi hid a giggle. Coral reminded her of Bennu and she instantly felt affection for the old woman.
“Indeed,” His Majesty said, nonplussed. “Are you confident you can treat a human?”
“Sure, sure,” Coral said with a shrug. “I’ve been a midwife for nearly a century now, and I’ve helped all manner of child into the world. Humans are mammals, as I understand, and the basics of mammals are reasonably similar; the bits are usually in the same place and work just the same. Usually. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“We understand,” His Majesty said, standing. “What do you need to begin?”
“Well, to start, I need to examine the girlie here,” Coral said, nodding at Sariphi. “She’s the one I’ll be lookin’ after, I figure.”
His Majesty glanced at Sariphi, who nodded and stood up.
“You are permitted to conduct an examination,” He said. “Though you will not do so alone. Princess Amit will be present for the examination, and Captain Lantevelt will stand guard outside of the door.”
His Majesty motioned for the edge of the dais, where Amit and Jormungand stood. Amit stepped forward while Jormungand stepped back. He also motioned near the other side of the dais, where Lantevelt was standing. He joined Amit and waited for Sariphi to step down.
“There is a dedicated room for you in which you may work,” Anubis told Coral. “And your sleeping accommodations are also located there. Princess Amit knows where it is and will lead you there. If you pass the trial period and are hired, you will report directly to Their Majesties or to myself. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes, you’re very important, I get it.”
Anubis growled in agitation.
“You will relay your findings to us when you have finished,” His Majesty said. “Afterward, we wish to speak to you privately.”
“You got it, boss,” Coral said, not waiting to be dismissed and waving her stick at Amit. “Lead on, missy.”
“Yes,” Amit said, bowing. “Follow me, please.”
Sariphi patted His Majesty’s hand briefly before following Amit, Lantevelt, and Coral. His Majesty watched the group walk out of the throne room and sat back on his throne.
“You seem worried, Sire,” Jormungand told him. “Her Majesty is well, I trust?”
“She is as robust as she has ever been, yes,” His Majesty replied. “It is not out of fear for her health that I do this.”
“I do not presume to know what troubles you, Sire,” Jormungand said. “But as a soon-to-be husband myself, I can imagine I may face similar tribulations in the future. You have my sympathies.”
“Hmm,” His Majesty said, standing. “Your concern is appreciated, Captain.”
Anubis sniffed in discomfort. “As I have nothing to contribute to this conversation, I will carry on with my duties. If you will excuse me.” He bowed and left.
Jormungand laughed. “As cold as ever, Abi.” He turned back to His Majesty. “I shall also take my leave, Sire.”
“You may do so,” His Majesty said. As Jormungand bowed and made to depart, His Majesty called suddenly. “Jormungand.”
Jormungand halted and turned on his heel. “Yes, Sire?”
“We must imagine Anubis would find discussing domestic troubles quite… distasteful,” He began slowly. “Would we be correct in assuming you would be… more receptive to such things?”
Jormungand tilted his head. “That may be. Certainly more so than Abi.”
“In the future…” His Majesty said, but then stopped himself.
Jormungand realized what His Majesty was trying to ask and chuckled.
“If ever you need an ear, Your Majesty, I’m more than willing to lend you both of mine. Feel free to call me Jor when we are alone. If it suits you, of course.”
His Majesty showed a hint of a smile, since no one else besides himself and Jormungand was there to see it. “We are… I am grateful. Jor. Thank you.”
Jormungand gave him a good-natured laugh.
“What are friends for, Your Majesty?”
With that, Jormungand bowed again and excused himself.
Friends. For many years, His Majesty had debated whether it was appropriate or even possible for a king to have friends. His father… well, his uncle, the previous king, certainly had no one that could be considered a friend. The closest would have been the previous Anubis, the current Anubis’s father, though the previous king barely batted an eyelash when his most loyal vassal had died right in front of him.
When he first became king, His Majesty had emulated the previous king in behavior, since he had no other example to follow. Now, after having met Sariphi, he had come to realize that the previous king’s life was rather… empty. Hollow. As such, His Majesty decided that he didn’t wish to live the same way. Granted, having friends would require him to be more open, which he still found difficult, but he believed it would be worth it in the end.
He’d had only one friend since he was a boy. Now... he had two. His Majesty smiled to himself and went back to his office.
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#niehime to kemono no ou#The sacrificial princess and the king of beasts#Sariphi#Sariphie#Saliphi#Saliphie#Princess Amit#Captain Jormungand#Ou-Sama#Leonheart#Fanfiction#Fanfic#ao3 fanfic
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Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.
I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!
(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)
---
You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.
INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING
"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick."
It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).
They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes. Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.
Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor.
Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.
Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.
"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."
Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth.
"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"
Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically.
Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.
This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.
He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"
June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.
"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."
June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."
At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"
"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"
Alex throws a home fry at her face.
It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table.
A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.
"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."
June balks. "Me?"
"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."
"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."
(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)
To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.
"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."
He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.
Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!
@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons
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Day 15 - 31 Jan 2025
Core Report:
Hours spent: 5h 10m
Completed tasks: 12 tasks
Free Reading: The Woman in the Dunes, by Kōbō Abe
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about where I am and where I’m headed—dealing with setbacks, trying to regain my footing, and making sense of it all. I’m writing about breaking out of autopilot, finding small wins, and slowly piecing things together again. And in the end, like in my previous short posts, I will mention three good things about the day and a song.
It's been over a month since I last wrote here, and I'm finally here to do what I promised. I spent most of this time in the hospital because of my grandfather's deteriorating health, and he's still not fully recovered. I hope this cycle of unexpected appointments will wrap up within the next two weeks, depending on his condition. Originally, I had planned to post daily updates on my studies for 30 days, and I’m restarting that now. But honestly, I feel like I should put my energy into bigger goals and more meaningful updates—especially in real life. Small dopamine boosts from tiny achievements are nice, but investing time and energy in something substantial feels more rewarding. Don't you think so?
At this point, the only reason I see for continuing these updates is my commitment to that 30-day goal I set for myself. But I do enjoy the social interactions that come with them—even if it’s just seeing a little tapping heart from a friend-like blog. Working alone can feel isolating, and sharing my work here gives me some sense of connection. Maybe that’s part of why I keep doing it.
The next challenge is getting back up after setbacks. For nearly two years, I felt like I was dead—not literally, but close enough. One day, I looked around and saw how much negativity had taken over my mind. I wasn’t exercising, wasn’t taking care of myself, was withdrawing from people, and was jeopardizing my own stability. No one wants bad outcomes, but it’s so easy to slip into autopilot and let life just happen to you. So I started working on my struggles, bit by bit. My biggest recent success? Lowering my BDC grade—the scale used to measure depression. How? It involved a lot of effort, many small steps, and countless failures. I want to write a full blog post on that someday, in case it might help someone else.
The first thing I worked on was building a safe and warm space inside my mind. When I finally recognized myself in the darkness, I realized how long it had been since I truly lived. Why wasn’t I dreaming like before? Why wasn’t I playing? Why had I given up my fighting spirit? Why wasn’t I paying attention to the world’s beauty like I used to? Why wasn’t I chasing wonder? Why was I avoiding the things I loved? Why wasn’t I taking care of my health? These questions, as always, sparked something in me. Of course, they weren’t the only things that helped me get here, but they were part of the process.
I don’t know about you, but curiosity has always been my guiding light—even in my darkest moods. It reaches for me at just the right moment, like an extended hand. That was another sign. So I started experimenting—moving toward the light in spontaneous but intentional ways, and even creating my own artificial light when I needed to. Since my last update on January 5th, until now, February 2nd, I’ve seen both small and big changes within myself. I can see them in my steps, in my shadow, in the way I process sadness, and in how I interact with my patterns. But it’s still not enough. My wounds are still active, still producing something within me. And I still don’t present the kind of social image that makes me feel like I’ve truly arrived anywhere yet.
I need to find a proper job and return to academic studies. A job—because I need money. I don’t want to be homeless, constantly worrying about food and rent. And education—because, no matter what else I am, deep down, a Ravenclaw lives inside me. If I’m not learning, I wither. My heart aches for the core of who I am.
There are more reasons too.
I want to listen to more amazing pieces of music.
I want to visit unknown places.
I want to meet more fascinating people.
I want to discover better books.
I want to taste more delicious food.
I want to complete more tasks and improve my skills and knowledge.
I want to understand myself better and deeper.
I want to give something back to the world and be of some use.
I want to experience more of nature’s marvels.
I want to love and be loved in return.
I want to fall into a well-earned, satisfied sleep after days filled with passion and excitement.
I want to ... ♾️
This post ended up being brutally honest. I hope it wasn’t too much. More than that, I hope it was useful in some way. Maybe someone will read this and feel a little less alone. And yes, in the end, we fight for ourselves and for the things we care about. It's possible to reach sunrise, even after the darkest nights, by using only our bare hands.
Also—sorry for the way I use English. I still have a long way to go before my sentences flow effortlessly.
Three Good/Beautiful Things of the Day
I got a scarf from my grandmother, soft and white like a feather. It feels like a magical charm that gives me strength.
I left my books on a hospital waiting room chair while speaking to the nurse. When I returned, the patients’ companions were reading them. It made me happy to have unknowingly encouraged them to pick up a book.
It was midnight, and the streets were empty and soaked from the rain. Walking felt good, and the taste of hot chocolate made it even better.
#student life#study#study blog#study motivation#studyblr#studying#student#writing#mental health#beauty#self improvement#self love#self care#finding myself#currently reading#reading#books and reading#japanese literature#keep going#small wins#gratitude#language learning#spotify#studyspo#motivation#documenting#100 days of studying#Spotify
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showmance
“contestants who hook up during the show for the sake of good television” -urban dictionary
I’ve been having this idea swirl in my brain for so long, and I had to write it down as a little drabble. I’m obsessed with the idea of modern!Eddie going on a reality competition (ex. Big Brother) and meeting you. Anyway, lmk if I need to write a full prompt, or if there are other reality shows we could see Eddie on that he meets the love of his life. This was so much fun to scribble down. Sorry for any typos - I was too excited to post!
-baddie
-> <-
Being on television has always been your dream. You love reality television, especially the competition of some of these shows. It just so happens an opportunity unfolds when your agent contacts you about your favorite show being interested in you.
After months of screen tests, evaluations and the production team talking crap about you in front of your face, you’re on your way through the doors of the house you’ll be living in with your fellow contestants.
Engulfed in warm hugs that only last mere moments of excitement, you’re only focused on the one that matters. He smells of an ash tray, bitter and eye-watering. The persona screams hard rock-star. He tells you his name is Eddie, and unbeknownst to you, he’s memorizing the notes of your perfume.
When the producers take him in to do a video diary confessional, he admits to being swept of his feet by your beauty. You’re the most gorgeous person on this planet. He’s sure you’d make stars jealous of how brightly you shine.
As you explore the house, you find your bed with a group of people about your age. Already, they want to stick together to beat out the other contestants. You agree with them just to keep a low profile.
It’s time for the first of many competitions, and you’re face to face with the boy who took your breath away. You offer him safety into the next week, and he responds “sweetheart, for you, I’ll do anything.”
It’s a corny line meant to throw you off balance, but you stay steady and watch him tumble dramatically to the ground. You cheer victoriously making yourself double competition for the rest of the game.
Weeks will go by where what you don’t know is the cameras pacing back and forth between you and Eddie. The viewers are on the edge of their seats waiting for the moment they’ve been waiting for.
You’re lounging for the moment when Eddie slams his weight into the empty space on the bed with you. Laying with his face down on the pillow, you touch his hair. It’s become normal now for you two to be friendly like this.
“I’m so sore,” Eddie groans.
You swipe gentle hands across his shoulders, “I’m exhausted.”
“Can I sleep with you in here tonight?” He asks.
You nod.
It’s not unusual. Bed swapping happens naturally between housemates. What is unusual is how long you’ll stare at him for. He snorts, and asks you why you’re looking at him like that.
Scooting down to his level, your noses are basically touching. His eyes have turned to one big blob.
“Is it comfy like this?” You giggle.
Eddie laughs along with you, “not really.”
Before you find yourself wound in bed together, you and he join each other in the shared bathroom. Brushing your teeth in near silence, while exchanging longing glances, neither of you is willing to spill their true feelings for each other just yet.
It’s all so competitive in the house, if anyone knew about you and Eddie, they’d surely put a target on your back. It’s a problem when both of you are strong competitors though. No one is willing to strike you down.
But, eventually you’ll make enemies and have to plead your case to stay in the house with the other competitors. This is when Eddie nearly breaks down in the confessional about how lonely he’d be here without you.
You remain in the house with a sigh of relief. Saying goodbye to another roommate is tough though, and you give her a long hug with a promise of sticking through this for her.
Joining Eddie in your room, he lets you cry into his chest. This is the toughest elimination as the numbers of people dwindle down.
Eddie stays with you that night, and for the first time he plants a kiss to your head after he thinks you’re asleep. You lift your head to meet his, and through slow motions your lips meet his. Sinking below the blankets, you share soft touches and sneak kisses between each other.
Eddie becomes a favorite after this. Viewers love seeing his soft side with you, and acting child-like and rambunctious with the other members of the house. He’s got allegiance with some of the boys that like to pick on each other for laughs. But, really his allegiance lies with you. That’s proven after the boys want to swoop you under the rug and sneak you out of the house. He’ll convince them to let you stay, but by then the target swaps to him.
It’s tough being up for elimination, but it’s worse when you’re up there with him.
Crying yourself to sleep at night, Eddie’s been eliminated and you’re ready to call it quits. But, you promised him you’d stay. You swore you’d win for him.
And when the end of the competition comes, you do lose. But, you lose with pride. As a surprise on your way out, Eddie’s there waiting for you. And that’s the best prize you could have asked for.
#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#eddie munson preference#eddie munson drabble#modern!eddie munson#modern!eddie x reader#eddie munson fic
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WHEN HOME BECOMES YOU CHAPTER 7
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2d74487aaba5ca032aead9e03f259447/e15c9b2e72964b78-5b/s540x810/58017ba03deef582d76ddadb515091f2546ef01e.jpg)
/ Hey!! Hello!! a little later than intended but here she is Chapter 7
/ As always a thank you to @maximumkillshot and @taeminsung not only my muses but my spirit guides as I write this story.
/ In the next coming weeks I am going to try and officially build a schedule to follow and post to. That is all the news for now. ONWARD!!
/ Genre: angst, fluff, comfort, a little bit of crack
/ Warnings: talks of sleep, anxiety, ptsd, insomnia, fear, sadness, Swearing
/ Summary:
“What about family??”
“I haven’t heard from them in nearly five years,” a gasp left him, his plump lips sucked into his own teeth. “Chan don’t fret over them, they weren’t kind to me. I chose to leave them behind. My friends, my true family knew that leaving America was the right choice for me. My fresh start,”
“We could be your family,” it was such a simple thing for him to say, but you knew deep in his heart he meant it. Every word of it.
When morning came it was the first thing you noticed was your sleep had been dreamless. Not a thought behind your eyes, as you opened them to the renewed space that you had been given. The silk sheets slid against your skin cool to the touch. It was refreshing against your body. When you finally slipped out of the bed you stretched high and long, the bright morning light that cast over the city calmed your soul. It was as though Felix and Han had come to grace you even though he wasn’t there. You took a picture of the sunrise, and sent it to him and Han with a message attached.
‘Thank you for the sunshine boys,’
Their responses back quick and sweet as you readied for the day. The gym was your first goal, with a smoothie in hand you made your way to the JYP building. On your way out you spied the extra helmet at your door. There was no rhyme or reason for it but you took it with you. At the building you got in your scheduled time for your gym session. There hadn’t been time to have long planned workouts, Stray Kids’ long winded, fully filled schedules made sure of that. You still found time, whether it be in your hotel room or in the sparse hour or so of free time they had. You liked to dedicate that time to keeping your body in shape for your work. Afterward you looked at your phone. In your month with the boys you had found it easier to just sync your calendar to Chan’s. But as you scrolled through your phone there were no events scheduled. Which was odd, you always had their schedule. Aside from a few meetings in the later afternoon you didn’t have much to do. So after your shower you wandered up to Chan’s studio. With a gentle knock you waited for him to let you in. His voice was distant beyond the door but he beckoned you to come inside. Your eyes cast still down, cast to your phone screen.
“Chan, did you add me to the current calendar?? It isn’t showing up on my phone,” when you looked up you finally took stock of him.
“Shi, I forgot, hold on,” the shadows under his eyes seemed darker, a deeper color to the skin around his lids. You saw his shoulders sagged, his hoodie heavy against his body. As though the entirety of it was a weight that dragged against him. There was a hunch to his back as he leaned over to grab his phone from his bag on the floor. Once retrieved, your phone dinged as he added you to the calendar events for the next two months. Your eyes flashed over the prior days schedule, on it you saw 3Racha had been scheduled for NIZI. A current production of the company that featured the producing team of Stray Kids as judges for future JYP groups. By now it had a few seasons, the original purpose was to have various idol coach trainees. There wasn’t much to Chan you knew, not yet anyway. But it was clear in your eyes that he was exhausted. Beyond that, sleep seemed to evade him. You could see that in every part of his body.
“Are you alright??” You knew the answer, no, but would he say so?? Or would he lie to you.
“I-I don’t know. I am exhausted,”
“How much sleep have you gotten??”
“When??” there was a shrug, that shifted the weight of his hoodie back more. You would reprimand him, would have, had you not known the struggle he had with insomnia. How it affected his daily life, the entity that shrouded over him.
“Tell me about it,” your body settled on the studio couch at the back of the room. It was a staple to their videos, well known and well loved. His eyes roamed over you, the light of the room cast a gold glow over his irises. A hidden color in the deep brown pools. There was a wobble to his lip, a fight he couldn’t keep up due to the tiredness that ebbed off him.
“We had to, we, there was,” he couldn’t gather his thoughts, too many of them all at once. You watched as his eyes darted around the room, as he tried to find the thoughts that plagued him. Slowly you reached across the room your hand slid into his, a squeeze to assure him that you were there.
“Take your time,”
“I-It is really hard to work on this NIZI project. While I enjoy having the time and ability to cultivate the young minds of the new Idol generation. It is also hard to see myself within them,” from what little you know of him, the years he had spent as a trainee. Some of the younger members often remarked on how many years it had been, how he was the longest trainee in the company's current history. You didn’t speak, not until he had finished, his thoughts gathered more before he stood to pace the room. “I worry for them, for those who don’t make it. I know the strength of this industry, like the back of my hand. They would not survive it if we let them Debut. But it guts me to have to let them go. To see their faces as I crush their dreams, their hopes. I remember when I was there, when I felt that,” you reached out to him. You dragged him to the couch beside you, with a pat on the middle seat you turned to look at him.
“I may not know the reasons, the whys of it all. There are experiences of yours that I may not understand. But I can say this, those trainees are safer with you there to guide them. Because you know, you know what it is like to hit those points in life. How hard it is to be in that darkness, there is no one more qualified to know if these boys can or will make it in this career,” his head tipped back with a deep sigh, you watched his anxiety float off of him. His hoodie became a comfort rather than a weight against him. Beside him you felt safe, all of these boys had this effect on you.
“Y/N, tell me how did you know??” your lip tucked into your teeth as you pulled your knees up to your chest.
“Because, Chan. I know what it is like to feel so hopeless. As though the entire world had turned on you. When this job was offered to me I didn’t hesitate to take it. There was nothing left for me in America. Few people to love, and those who I do wanted me to chase this dream,”
“What about family??”
“I haven’t heard from them in nearly five years,” a gasp left him, his plump lips sucked into his own teeth. “Chan don’t fret over them, they weren’t kind to me. I chose to leave them behind. My friends, my true family knew that leaving America was the right choice for me. My fresh start,”
“We could be your family,” it was such a simple thing for him to say, but you knew deep in his heart he meant it. Every word of it.
“I think I would like that very much,” you smiled at him, the soft pull of your lips mirrored on his as he watched you. Whatever work the two of you had forgotten in the deep conversations you engaged in. Soon enough silence followed your voice. As your head turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in a quizzical manner. Chan was passed out against the back of the couch. His neck cocked at an odd angle as his breath came out in soft huffs. You laughed softly as you moved to pull him down away from the couch back. Your own body moved so you could continue work as he slept. After your laptop was set up on the coffee table, earbuds on and in you moved Chan. His head came to rest on your thighs. With slow and careful movements you adjusted him into a comfortable position on your lap. When he didn’t stir at all you knew he was exhausted. His body was a heavy weight next to and against you. It was all worth the ache that would come later, to see him so relaxed with you, next to you.
An hour and a half passed, three of your meetings finished by the time the door opened. Changbin emerged from the other side. Your hand stilled in Chan's hair as you raised your index finger to your lips. An ask to be quiet as he putted about the room. Soon he joined you. He chose the free office chair, his own laptop beside yours as he worked. A few minutes later he was deep into his work, his head bopped to whatever beat that had been stuck in his head now out for the universe to see and hear. Eventually he passed the headphones to you, a silent offer to listen. You wanted to, but the man in your lap prevented you from moving. Changbin nodded, he moved around the table. Settled the headphones over your head before he moved back to play the beat he just created. Chan stirred beneath you a shiver wracked his spine, his hoodie abandoned on the chair Chanbin sat in. Before you listened to the beat you reached back behind the couch. A random spotify blanket that was haphazardly draped over the couch. You settled it over him, softly tucked the back of it to his body. A small cocoon is what he became. As the blanket settled over him you and Changbin watched as he tucked his nose under the soft fabric, a soft sigh escaped him as he nuzzled into your thigh and the blanket. The beat all but abandoned as Changbin stood, hand over his mouth to muffle the scream that was locked in his chest. You watched as he slipped away into the recording booth. A sound proof space you noticed as he let his hand drop to let out the scream. After a few moments he returned phone in hand to snap a picture of Chan asleep in your lap. Happily you let him.
“Thank you,” he mouthed as he returned to his seat to play the beat he’d created. When it started you listened intently, your own head moved to the intricate sound he created in mere minutes. When it was finished you removed the headphones and let Changbin take them back from you. He waited patiently for your feedback.
“It was good,” you whispered as you settled your fingers across your keys to finish out some paperwork for a couple staff transfers. The tranquil silence that was created between the three of you was broken when the door swung open once more. This time Han entered the room, at the sight of you he squealed. His voice was loud as he rushed over to you for a hug. The movements jostled Chan in your lap effectively waking the poor man.
“Hannie, you need to look around first,” Changbin scolded as he pulled the younger man away from you. He worried he squashed Chan in his effort to hug you.
“I am so sorry Chan,” your fingers carded into the dark haired man's locks in your lap in hopes you would ease the startled feeling he must have from being woken up so abruptly. There was a heavy sigh before he forced himself upright with a groan.
“It’s alright Sungie, we need to work anyway,” his eyes met yours with a silent thank you for the kindness you had offered him today. You just smiled at him and stood as you collected your belongings.
“Well I will let you three get to it. Can’t keep the geniuses from marking their art,” you made sure to give Han a proper hug before you left them for the rest of the day. Han protested a small bit before Chan dragged him to the recording booth.
“We need to make guides Han,”
**** **** **** ****
Work that afternoon had become hard for him. It wasn’t the usual back and forth banter he’d have with Chan or the constant nag from Han to change something that kept him distracted. No it was you, Changbin was utterly entrapped by the presence you had created in his life. In the lives of his small family. His Whimsy, the kind soul that remained a mystery.
“What do you think of this Changbin??” He wasn’t paying attention, not in the slightest. His mind elsewhere, to the place you sat on that couch. Your nimble fingers tapped lightly away at your keyboard, movements small to keep Chan from waking in your lap below you. There was kindness in every action you took toward them. How he longed to be the person to rest his head over your plush thighs, to be given the permission to exist like that with you. He was not jealous of Chan, not in the slightest. Rather he was so happy to have found his leader passed out, you had guided him to sleep. Changbin was thankful you had gifted the older man the short nap he was given. “Bin,” his head finally turned to meet Chan, eyebrows raised as he hummed in return.
“Mm what??”
“Channie-Hyung, hes lovestruck,” Han sing-songed as he spun in his chair before he returned to the main desk. Changbin felt his hands wrap around his shoulders as he giggled. “I don’t blame you she's pretty,”
“It’s not just that Hannie,” his hands raked over his face as an exasperated sigh left his lips. “She's gorgeous, stunning. But it, it’s not just that. There is this kindness to her. She works so hard to protect us. I want to hear her voice everyday, listen to her speak to me. Around me, her existence in its own right is exquisite,” his mouth moved before he even had time to stop it. The words tumbled out of him, the experience not far off from when he created lyrics. All of it spilled out of him, heart bare and open for his members to see.
“Ask her on a date,” Chan remarked, his fingers typed away at the computer as he arranged the music again. It didn’t fit, not yet. Changbin groaned, unable to now form words for the pure discontentment he had with the idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask you out. It was that he wasn’t sure how. Or even where to begin. “Just simply ask her out to dinner,”
“I can’t,” he groaned as his head came to thump against the desk effectively rattling the contents that lay strewn about it.
“You can just simply say ‘hey Y/N let's go get dinner.’ Easy as pie,” was it really?? It didn’t feel that way not to him. Chan sighed this time his eyes glanced over the clock on his computer before he moved back with a stretch. “Well speaking of dinner, since we can’t seem to focus we might as well head to the dorms for a break,” Changbin hadn’t planned to protest, not when he truly couldn’t focus on the task at hand. Not when you caused a welcome plague over his mind.
When the car was called they ventured down to the garage that they were always picked up and dropped off from. There not far off he spied your motorcycle, you too were still here. That fact alone made his heart race, there was a chance to see you one more time for the day. Maybe, hopefully. Not long after the three settled outside the elevator to wait for the car did the familiar ding of the metal doors opening draw their attention to behind them. There you stood phone in hand as you stepped out to join them. When you glanced up you smiled at them. He couldn’t help but smile back. Changbin was starstruck by your existence alone. How could he not smile when his whimsy smiled at him?? Before he knew it the words fell from his lips just as fast as he thought of them.
“Dinner, you and me. Together, please,” well that was one way to ask. He heard snickers behind him before his fellow members decided to speak their mind.
“Well that’s one way to do it,”
“He got the words right. Delivery needed work,” he looked back to find Han leaning over Chan with his usual cheeky smile. He was sure to flip them off for their unnecessary commentary to his embarrassment. You however laughed, your soft airy laugh he loved to hear.
“Yes, let’s,”
“When??” He found his chance. He wouldn’t lose it now.
“Now, my place,” something cold and hard pressed to his abdomen. When he looked down he found a helmet had been pressed to his stomach. A helmet, its colors matched yours perfectly. Though the blue and pink tones were in reverse. When his hands clasped over it you dropped the full weight of it to be held by him. “Come on lover boy,” you turned on your heels and walked toward your bike. It was a view he could watch all day. Sure it made him feel not far off form a teenage boy as he RESPECTFULLY eyed your body as it walked away from him. How could he not when you wore your gear. The pants alone were criminal. A deep purple followed the inner and outer seam of your body drew further attention to your ass. The jacket that matched fit snug against your shoulders, and chest. He watched as you turned to look at him, your hands slowly pulled the zipper up up and up over your neck. It was Chan that pushed him into action, the older took his gym bag and nudged him to follow you. He did with careful steps he joined you beside the bike, helmet still lazily clasped in his hands. Your brown eyes glanced up at him, a smile on your lips before you reached into your bag for your own helmet. “Don’t be shy,”
“It’s hard not to be, when you look at me like that,” curse his mouth. Curse his brain for having let that slip out. Your laugh met his ears once more like a song he didn’t know he needed to hear. By now he knew his ears were tinted red. To hide he slipped his head into the helmet his cheeks squished some with all the heavy padding. It felt odd, tight, and strikingly comforting to have the helmet over his head.
“Wait you’re missing something,” you laughed as you reached around and grabbed something from your bag. He couldn’t see what it was, you had moved too quick for him to see what you had put whatever it was on his helmet. Your cheeky smile was reward enough for him though. “A photo, for the boys,” you said as you slipped your own helmet on and turned to take a selfie with him. In the view of the camera he could see you had put magnetic bunny ears on his helmet. Like yours one flopped down the other upright. In the opposite direction of yours. He smiled for the photo. Though his mouth couldn’t be seen he was sure his eyes gave away his glee. Afterward you handed him your backpack to wear while the two of you rode. He watched beneath the visor as you settled over the bike. Your soft thighs pooled some to accommodate the metal and plastic underneath you. When you settled he moved to sit behind you. His own thighs moved to mold into the seat of the bike. He tried to find purchase in anything other than you. Don't get him wrong, he wanted to touch you. Reach his arms around your torso splay his wide palms over your stomach. But he wouldn’t, not at least until you said so. “Changbin, you’ll fall off if you sit like that,” your arms reached back, your fingers threaded into his as you pulled his arms around your torso. There you settled them over your stomach..dreams really do come true. Changbin willed himself to NOT pop a boner while he sat with your back to him like this.
“Okay,” he nodded, helmet bonked against yours in the effort. It made you both laugh. Though yours was so much prettier than his. When his hands settled over you he felt you twist some as the bike roared to life. If Changbin had to describe the feeling of the engine beneath him he’d say it was similar, not far off from the feeling he got when he growled. The deep rumble from the pit of his stomach rolled through his chest and throat. Until he unleashed all the power he had in his voice out his lips. Your motorcycle was the same, except that slow rumble started from the balls of his feet, up his thighs. It settled there before it ricocheted up his spine and stayed in his shoulders only to go back down, then back up once more. It was unfamiliar, new, he gripped you tighter as your own feet lifted off the concrete and the bike moved forward. He leaned over you as you pressed forward, his body molded into yours with the effort to not fall off. The fading sunlight hit you both the moment that you had left the garage. The tired screeched some with the effort to get onto the main streets of the city. He’d seen this city before, it has been his home for many years now. But under the tinted visor it was different.
“It’s my favorite view,” your voice came clear through his ear. It startled him some but he relaxed when he realized he was connected to your helmet through a Bluetooth device.
“I can see why,” he sighed as he leaned back some, as he dared to look around the city he knew so well. He loved it, every second of it. As the two of you zipped through the busy streets he laughed. The sun cast shadows over you both as you took them over the Han bridge. The gold light cast over the water made it shimmer. It was so bright Changbin knew if his visor wasn’t down he'd be blinded. But with it down he could see the full beauty of the water that was below you both. With one last look he settled back with his head over your shoulder to watch the streets in front of you. The music you were playing was funny, American. He couldn’t catch the lyrics but he’d have to ask you for it later to translate the meaning behind it.
The ride wasn’t long enough in his opinion, your apartment was tucked neatly away just outside the heart of the city. When you parked he waited for your signal to get down. When you tapped his arms he let go of the grip he had on you and slipped off the bike. Not long after you slipped off it your legs were far steadier than his as you stood on the concrete floor. “You’ll have to teach me how to drive,”
“Gladly. Though Felix asked first,” you waved him to follow you, and he did. Like a lost puppy he followed you into the building helmet in his hands as he walked behind you. The concierge waved to you before he looked at Changbin. “Good evening. I’ll have some more guests later I’ll page them up,”
“I can make badges for them if you would like to miss,” there was a thought behind your eyes before you nodded.
“Will you make two please??” When the man at the desk nodded you began the walk toward the elevator once more. The small fob on your keys opened the doors. It allowed you further access to the building. Changbin looked around, the place was high class. The security was immaculate, almost better than his own place. He didn’t even want to know the cost of living in a place like this. With your salary he was sure you could afford it. Still it was a mystery to him. Eight floors up and he followed you off the elevator straight into your front door. Then into your home. “Make yourself at home,” you said as you slipped into your house slippers shoes neatly left at the door. “I’m just going to change really quick,”
“O-okay,” he stepped into the spare slippers as he wandered into the small space you called home. The design of it all gave him more of who you were. What you liked. The neon signs and soft plush couch drew his attention. “So you’re having more company later??” He called out as he looked over the art hung on your walls. Some small photos clipped into magnetic frames tacked neatly on the wall. Your life in another country. A life he didn’t know.
“Yes, the rest of the boys are coming later for a movie. Hyunjin insisted on it as a housewarming sort of thing,” he laughed. It made sense. Ever since Felix and Hyunjin had taken you out shopping he’d heard nothing but all the things Hyunjin did to make you happy. “So that also means you’re invited for movie night,”
“Well I guess it won’t be a hassle since I’m already here,” you laughed, his heart thundered in his chest. When he looked back he saw you tiptoe down the steps of your loft space he felt his cheeks burn at the sight of you. Sure it wasn’t much, you weren’t dressed up like you were at the after party. But any sighting of you in clothes that aren’t your work attire was a blessing to him.
“How does Spaghetti sound??”
“Italian is the way to my heart,” truth be told, any food was. But he was a sucker for Italian.
“Wonderful. My MeeMaw made a mean spaghetti recipe,” while you took up residence in the kitchen he sat at the small island bar to watch you work. “If you sit there I’ll give you something to do,”
“Please, I hate just sitting here,” the two of you laughed softly and soon he was given a task to do. Onions to cut, among other small veggies while you prepared the meat and noodles. “Was your grandmother Italian??”
“No, far from it actually, but she had an affinity for Italian food,” your smile warmed his heart. He’d never heard you speak of your family but it was good to hear someone within your life loved you. Enough to gift you a smile when you spoke of them. The conversations between the two of you became endless. One subject filtered into another with ease, there was no awkward pause or silence to fill. He loved every second. And soon enough you joined him, with two plates in hand you gave him one as you sat beside him at the counter. “Hyunjin said a dining room table wasn’t practical for my small space so he didn’t end up getting me one,”
“Yes he told me all about your shopping adventure when he and Felix got to practice last night,” he dipped his fork into his meal and began to twirl it until he had a decent bite of the spaghetti on it. The flavor was unlike anything he’s had before. It was spaghetti, yes, but there was something different. The sauce was rich, thick, but not so much it made a weight in your stomach. Whatever your MeeMaw had in her recipe was divine. A hearty groan escaped his throat as he savored the flavors in his mouth. When he turned to look at you, your eyes were already on him. He lit up knowing you had waited to see how he felt about this meal. “Y/N. Make me this again,”
“If you react like that everytime I do then yes. I will gladly,”
“The boys are going to be so jealous,”
“Let them. They didn’t ask me to dinner. You did,” oh..was there another one of his members you wished to go out with. Had he read the flirtatious banter between you two wrong?? “Get out of your head Seo Changbin. Dinner with you is exactly what I wanted,” he lit up with your reassurances and continued to eat beside you. As you talked he learned you were close with your maternal grandparents, but the rest of your family remained a mystery. You refused to speak of them. He didn’t pry, you’d come to him when you’re ready. He was sad to find the only relatives you adored had passed.
“Is it hard to be here in Korea when you can’t visit their graves??”
“No, I have them with me always,” you shifted to move your pant leg up. It felt scandalous to Changbin to watch you pull the stretchy fabric up up and up to your thigh. But there he saw it. A beautiful floral and star design littered your skin. It was wrapped higher than your pants allowed. The delicate ink took over the entire expanse of your left leg. He’d seen the edges of it on your ankle but to see it in its near full glory was marvelous. “My artist put their ashes in the ink. So they are with me forever,”
“Wow, it's beautiful. Suits you well,” he watched your skin disappear beneath your pants once more as you turned to finish your meal.
“They were everything to me. It feels good to know even with them gone I still have a part of them with me,” he smiled as he listened. There was so much more he wanted to know about you. So much he wished you’d tell him. He wished this dinner would last eternity. But..it couldn’t. With both your plates clear Changbin insisted he do the dishes. After all the effort you took in cooking he made sure you had the chance to relax some before 7 other people invaded your space. After he finished he found you at the wall with the framed photos. The ones that felt a touch out of place. Yet they belonged so well. More parts of you he didn’t know.
“The tall beefy one is Axel,” he listened, you had willingly offered some more of your life. He didn’t want to stop you. “He is my best friend. He urged me to take this opportunity. The night I met you Changbin. If he hadn’t dragged me out to work. I would have missed the opportunity to work abroad. Axel is a huge reason why I’m here, why I’m with you in this moment,”
“I will have to thank him for bringing my Whimsy to me,”
“What??”
“I-I I am so sorry that wasn’t meant to be said..it’s what I call you in my head. W-Whimsy. The woman with the most Wh-Whimsical smile,” his cheeks felt as though they were on fire he couldn’t even believe himself for saying it aloud. Now he stuttered with embarrassment as he tried to explain himself. “You hate it..I’ll stop,” your hand came to rest on his chest in a gentle motion that told him to shut up. When his eyes met yours he melted your cheeks dusted in his favorite pink. A pink that brought out your freckles.
“No, I like it. Please call me that,” he nodded slowly, he didn’t want to stop looking at you. Never. Soon his hand moved, he wanted to join yours. He was sure you could feel his heart as it ricocheted in his chest. But before his hand came to rest over yours the door buzzer went off. He groaned..of course..the guys were here. And this moment between you two had to end. You laughed when his groan became outward. But you did slip away. You allowed the boys entry. You told them to stop at the front counter to pick up the two fobs you had made then returned to his side. Changbin hadn’t moved from his spot. Eyes still glued to the photos on the wall. To you, and the others caught within them.
“The boys have good timing,”
“Something like that,” he huffed lightly before he wandered over to the couch and sank into the plush cushions with a soft groan.
“It just means you and I will have to do this again,”
“You want that??”
“Of course I want that Changbin,” he smiled at the thought of being able to have time like this with you again. He wanted it too, so very much. Soon the front door burst open Felix and Hyunjin first in the door, their arms wrapped tight around you.
“Not fair!! Changbin I wanted to taste Starlight's cooking first!!”
“Yah!! Changbin you’re so unfair!!”
“Guess it just means she likes me more than the two of you,” he sat back into the couch to watch the chaos he had unfolded. Chan and you both gave him pointed looks of disdain as the wailing from the younger two became louder. Eventually they all settled down for the movie.
**** **** **** ****
Your night went perfectly. The dinner you had with Changbin was pleasant. You had learned so much about him. His life here in Korea. It was nice to just have calm chatter with someone. It helped that said someone was so incredibly handsome. Sure he was more than that. But his looks helped factor in your admiration for him. When the movie started you managed to squeeze yourself between Changbin and Felix. Hyunjin and Han fought for a spot between your legs on the floor. In the end it was Han who won though from the other side of the couch you could see Lee Know was keeping a close eye on you. Sure, you had won him over a little at the airport but it was easy to see he still didn’t trust you entirely. Chan had later explained to you how protective Lee Know was over Han and why. You understood it and did your best to show the older male you weren’t a threat to Han or the rest of the boys. The movie went smoothly.
Eventually Han vacated the space at your feet to snuggle up against Lee Know. Hyunjin and Felix were squished together beside them, also fast asleep. It left you, Chan, Changbin and Lee Know to watch over the others. By the time the movie ended you had to help usher out the four sleepy boys. They reminded you of toddlers as they waddled through your home fists rubbing the sleep from their eyes. You bid them goodnight from the door. There was a soft rattle once it closed. The walls of your apartment echoed the sound. From within you heard further proof of things having shifted in your home. When you turned on the light you noticed one of your forgotten boxes had toppled over. Most of its contents had stayed inside the box, yet a few feet away you noticed the broken photo frame. It was a miracle the glass hadn’t shattered further.
You hated that photo, but part of you still struggled to get rid of it. You had yet to find peace with all that happened. Slowly you reached down to pick it up. As the frame came to rest in your fingers you heard your phone go off. You wondered if maybe one of the boys had forgotten something. Yet when you lifted your abandoned device from the couch it was Axel’s contact you faced. You were quick to answer.
“Hey dude you’re calling at a strange time,” there was a small pause before Ivory’s voice filtered in from the other side.
“Y/N, Axel is in the hospital,”
“He..What happened??”
“Logan, he showed up at his place. He demanded to know where you were,”
“Axel is bigger than him how..” your voice tapered off as it began to shake. Fear riddled you immobile. No matter where you went your past would still come to haunt you. He would still come to haunt you.
“He broke Axel’s leg at the knee with a bat before Axel could stop him,” your eyes watered with the thought of your best friend injured with just the idea to protect you. Nothing made sense, the world faded away from you. Slowly you sank to the floor, phone dropped to the hardwood before you even had the chance to stop it. Not like you could, his voice filtered into your head.
“I will find you Dovey,”
“You can never escape me,”
“Just watch my love, you belong to me,”
“Dovey, dovey, dovey,”
You felt nothing, the photo in your hands slipped into your blurry view. The “happy” faces that lay in the cracked frame evident of the truth behind the people in it. Your scream desperate as you threw the frame away from you. Its near perfectness finally shattered all over the floor. Its glass scattered everywhere. Your hands shook as you reached down to pick it up. To pick up the broken bits of your heart as it lay bare on your floor. You didn’t care if the glass cut you. His voice called to you more and more as you sobbed. “I’ll be good..please..please leave them alone,” a line you’ve said a thousand times with his fist inches from your face. You’d take it all to protect them.
“Dovey, here I come,”
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𝓟 𝓡 𝓘 𝓥 𝓐 𝓣 𝓔 𝓓 𝓐 𝓝 𝓒 𝓔 𝓡 - CHAPTER FOUR
pairing: rapper! seungcheol x stripper! reader
word count: 3.2k (longest for this series so far!)
general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, dom! seungcheol, deep voice cheol, dirty talk, giving cheol head, reader gets partially nude, mentions of d*ugs, pet names, grinding on the d w/o a condom (please protect yourselves tho, always), seungcheol’s fave body part on you is your ass (he is an ass man, i’m not fighting people on this, it’s a fact)
notes: after about a nearly two month break we’re back! sorry y’all i know the momentum has kinda died out a bit, but between coming back to the states after a month long trip and returning to my normal routines and going back to work and some family stuff, it was hard to find the energy to write. but we’re back nonetheless! thank you for sticking by if you’re still here!
playlist songs: money showers - fat joe, remy ma, ty dolla sign, hey daddy (daddy’s home) - usher, another nasty song - latto
taglist: @im-gemmy @enhacolor @hooniewnderland @svtup @kawaiikels @weeevrse @diorsfxck @kyexvly @woozarts @ifuckcheol @marsstarxhwa @haoxiaoba (if your user is crossed out that means i cant tag you)
the smell of weed is strong enough to take over the small studio space, it slightly crowded with the amount of people in the room. a few producers sit in their chairs, altering the sound board controls every and now and then, a heavy bass booming through the system.
behind the door and in the booth is seungcheol, or s.coups (his stage name), spitting fire into the mic as he records the final tracks for an upcoming, anticipated mixtape. he had a pretty decent following after posting some songs on soundcloud for the fun of it, and it continued to grow when he released his first mixtape a few months ago. now pretty much everyone knew his name and it wouldn’t be long before he caught the attention of a mainstream, viral artist.
as he says his last words, the volume goes down and a voice fills the booth, “yeah man, that was great as fuck!” seungcheol smiles as he puts up his headphones and exits the room, dapping up all the producers to thank them for their hard work.
“this mixtape is gonna be so fire, cheol, you’re really out there now!”
“yeah, soon you’re not even gonna need us anymore, working with all those big time producers,” someone chimes in and seungcheol immediately frowns.
“hey man, don’t even say that. you guys were the first people to give me a chance, i’m never gonna forget my brothers,” he nudges them in their shoulder, and they respond by rolling their eyes.
“well that was the last track we had to do for today, what are you guys’s plans for tonight?” someone asks, but before he can even answer, seungcheol hears his phone ring with a text message alert.
princess: hey cheollie, just making sure you’re still on for tonight at illusion! i have a vip room ready and waiting just for you baby ❤️
he can’t help it, but his dick twitches at the last sentence you typed out. he was intoxicated just by the thought of you.
seungcheol has been one of your few regulars ever since he showed up to the club one night two years ago, celebrating the release of his first mixtape. the night in it of itself was a movie, expensive bottles everywhere, music blasting, and girls half-naked dancing on the tables and couches. cheol’s section was upstairs and it was where the party was really at. word got around quickly through the dressing room that cheol was there, and most of the dancers were hanging out with him and his entourage, trying to be the one girl to get him all to themselves. who wouldn’t want him all his glory to be honest?
you however, not exactly enticed by the rowdiness, took your spot at one of the available poles on the main floor. “just another one of those wannabe rappers,” you thought. not too far from his section, you went into one of your routines once a new song started playing. while spinning and inverting, enjoying the high the pole gave you, you didn’t even notice that seungcheol’s attention somehow made its way towards you.
to say the least, he was astounded. not only were you gorgeous in every way possible, you danced like you were on air, as if gravity meant nothing to you. as one of the bottle girls walked through to deliver another round of shots, she calls out to him, waking up from his trance when one of his friends shakes his shoulder.
“coups, are we getting more shots or what? stop daydreaming, it’s way too lit in here for that,” he grabs the ass of the dancer that was currently grinding onto him, matching his body to her energy to mimic riding her.
“y-yeah, sorry, we’ll have more shots,” seungcheol stutters as the server puts down the tray. before she can leave though, he taps her hand.
“do you know all of the dancers here?”
“yeah..” she responds in a slightly confused tone. “why are you asking?”
cheol then points to you, thanking the gods that you didn’t disappear from his line of sight. cash now lined your pole’s platform as your hips rolled to the beat, and then dropped down into a surprise split, patrons tossing even more bills at you.
“who’s she? she’s so fucking sexy,” he sighs sweetly, wanting to leave the table and everyone else just to have even a moment with you.
“oh, that’s sage - she’s one of our main dancers. if you wanna see her dance for you though, you better ask fast. there’s a reason why she’s so popular,” she says as she walks away carrying the empty tray under her arms.
without a second thought, he gets up from the table and goes down the stairs, his friends groaning in disappointment that seungcheol was leaving them. “this is all for you and you’re leaving the fun?” someone calls out behind him.
“i’ll be back in a bit!” he waved his hand, motioning to shoo them away. “there’s something i wanna do first.” with his friends out of the way, now he could focus on what he really wanted - you.
little did the both of you know that you would meeting sooner than you thought. you needed to make your way to the dressing room to grab something, but you got so caught up in your drive that you didn’t even notice another body heading directly towards you. you and cheol then accidentally bump into each other, and luckily you’re able to regain your balance in your heels just in time.
“whoa, i’m so sorry, i didn’t see you ther-” seungcheol freezes mid-sentence when he realizes it was you he bumped into. “holy shit,” he thought to himself. you looked gorgeous from afar, but right in front of him? it was taking everything in him not to have his hard-on show.
“no, it was my bad, i wasn’t paying attention,” you respond, your voice flowing sweet like honey to him. you try to continue walking but cheol reaches out and grabs your hand. you look at him funny as he doesn’t say anything at first.
“is there something else you need?” you ask, a bit confused, wanting to hurry up and go to the dressing room.
“yeah, you,” he thinks to himself again, trying to keep his eyes on yours and not at how your boobs were almost spilling out of your olive green two-piece.
he gathers his thoughts and takes a mental sigh. “there is actually,” he smirks as he pulls you closer to his body, his hands on your waist. he whispers in your ear and it sends shivers down your spine and your core.
“lemme take you to a room, princess. i saw you dancing over there and i wanna have you all to myself.” you bit your lip hard at the proposal. while he may have awkwardly grabbed your hand and you questioned his actions for a second, you could see why practically everyone was trying to be in his section. he’s handsome as fuck, his dark hair slightly hanging over his eyes, and his black shirt and jeans defining his built body. and to top it off, he had a voice that melted you like chocolate fondue.
“how will i know that it’ll be worth it? you’re clearly not the first guy i’ve taken to a room and you definitely won’t be the last. how will you make it worth my while?” you tease him, twirling your hair in between your fingers.
he chuckles and runs his hand through his hair. “why tell you and waste time when we can just get to it now, princess?”
yup, just your style.
“wait by the bar for me?” you wink at him as you go to the dressing room, purposefully walking slower to make sure got a full view of back of your body, admiring how good your ass looked even from afar.
he couldn’t help but smile to himself as he walked to the bar, in awe at the fact that he was so damn lucky today. a successful mixtape release, a great party, and now the most gorgeous woman he ever laid eyes on was about to be in his sole presence. nothing could get better than this.
or so he thought, because later than night. things definitely got way better when you finally took him to a vip room. after you danced for him on the pole, it lead to one of the hottest lap dances you’ve ever given, which subsequently lead to seungcheol taking you down on the couch, having you scream and moan his name until you came not once, not twice, but three times in the span you two were together.
ever since then, seungcheol came to see you nearly every single week, providing you with stacks of cash, phenomenal sex, a good conversation, and sometimes even all three. you also quickly realized that cheol definitely was not one of those “wannabe soundcloud rappers.” he had the talent, charisma, and passion for the industry, and you hoped that someone would recognize him for his gifts very soon.
going back to the present, cheol speaks up getting the attention of his audience. “well sage is working tonight, and today’s the usual day i go see her, so if anyone wants to hit up club illusion with me, we’ll roll right now,” he looks down at his silver audemars piguet watch, the hands pointing very close to the 10. a few people agree to go with him, others saying that they weren’t in the mood for a strip club or they had other places to be at.
cheollie: i’ll be there soon, i just wrapped up another studio session. can’t wait to see you princess, been on my mind all day
after getting some food and chilling out, the group finally makes its way to the club, the line pretty much nonexistent at this time for a thursday night. he and his crew stick together, some of the dancers approaching them.
“hey coups,” one of the girls flirts with him, biting her lip. another dancer next to her waves her hand, flipping her hair back to show off her decorated neck, inviting seungcheol to come touch her. he nods and smiles at the both of them, but he was only interested in just one person.
“coups!” you call out for him, spotting him from a distance. you walk down from the platform - your lemon-colored sequin bikini set tracing every beautiful curve on your body, the yellow heels you wore matching perfectly. as you walk down to meet him, you can’t help but admire how sexy he looks. his blonde hair, his white shirt encapsulating his muscles, his expensive sunglasses on his forehead. seungcheol quickly embraces you when you take your last step off the stairs, hands on your waist and both your lips locking immediately. it quickly escalates, moaning into his mouth when you feel his tongue roaming yours.
his friends groan behind of him when they see how intimate you two become, seungcheol’s hands starting to palm your ass. he turns his head, chuckling at their reactions, “like what you see?” he winks at them and goes back to kissing you, hands now moving their way across your chest.
they mumble to each other and leave the two of you alone, making their way to the main floor to find a table. once you know they’re out of sight, you grab his chin, causing seungcheol to stop and look at you. “finally,” you sigh happily, kissing the inside of his neck. “i’ve been waiting for you baby.”
he caresses your cheek, “didn’t you say you had a room for me too? c’mon princess, let’s go somewhere a lot less crowded.” you take his hand and lead him to the hall of private rooms downstairs, opening the second to last one, revealing a soft, golden lit room - the furniture basked in a champagne hue, and the stage decorated in a chrome, slick black.
“welcome to the champagne room, seungcheol!” you exclaim walking him in, cheol making sure the door was closed behind you. he whistles in amazement - the two of you have been in a share of private rooms in illusion, but this is the first time he’s been in a room as decorated as this.
“a change of pace i see,” he says walking towards the center chair, taking a seat on the cushions. “why the new setting princess?” he asks, running his hand behind his hair, unintentionally making you clench with how his muscles flexed.
you sultrily saunter toward him, making sure he could see all of you, making him crave for more of you. without another word, you gingerly sit on his lap, lacing your arm around his neck. “i actually wanna try something new with you, cheol,” you sheepishly smile, looking down at his chest, fingers starting to play with the necklace he was wearing.
“we’ve done so many things in these four walls, but the one thing i haven’t done yet is give you head in the private rooms.. which is crazy now that i’ve think about it,” you let out a small laugh, mind wandering to all of the dirty things you two have done, from cheol fucking you against the wall, handcuffed to nearly having a threesome. but one of the simplest things you could’ve ever done with cheol - neither of you had acted upon it yet.
“whaddaya say? can i go down on you seungcheol?” you whisper the last few words in his ear, and he groans as he reaches for his pants and his belt, loosening it up without hesitation.
“i’m all yours baby,” he tilts your chin up to look at you. “get this dick wet like only you can.”
——
is this the first time you’ve given head at a strip club? of course not, but it’s never felt as good as tonight. you’ve seen and felt seungcheol’s dick several times, knowing he was big. but you still weren’t prepared for the feeling of bliss having him deep inside your throat.
“that’s it baby, take some more in,” he guides your head, bobbing it up and down his length, making sure your pacing wasn’t going too fast. he wanted to savor you for as long as he could.
the tip of his dick was hitting the back of your throat, and it felt so good that you felt tears might prick your eyes. you moan around him, taking it a bit faster, and he groans loudly, head tilting backward, hands roaming your hair.
“fuck.. baby, keep taking me… mmm, just like that,” he breathlessly smiles at you and you feel you immediately clench, your panties getting even wetter. you speed up your pace for the final time, and not even a minute later, he cums into your mouth, and you don’t hesitate to swallow everything he gives you.
you lick your lips and open your mouth to let him know you’ve finished, and he kisses you again, your tongue fighting for dominance as you stand up and sit in his lap. he undoes your bra as it falls onto his lap and you begin to feel his length on your panty covered crotch.
“mmm, you just can’t enough of me, can’t you cheol?” you giggle, maneuvering your fingers to pull your panties to the side. “got you so rock hard that the only thing you can think of is me, huh? you’re so down bad,” you fully sink down on him and you both moan out loud, adoring the way how both of you feel on each other.
he grabs a handful of your ass and starts groping at the skin, to which you respond by grinding down on cheol, tits slowly beginning to bounce as you established a rhythm.
“okay, so i am down bad, but what about you princess? i bet your panties got wet the second you laid eyes on me tonight,” he says planting a smack on your ass, not too hard, but definitely not soft either. “but then again, when do you not get wet when you’re around me? always so needy for me, my baby. but you’re so patient and so ready,” he begins to kiss down your chest, reaching your breasts.
“fuck- don’t stop talking, please keep going!” you moan again as you both start to speed up the pace. “i-i don’t think i’ve told you this but, i love your voice, cheol.. it melts me like butter, ah!” you exclaim as he envelops one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing his head in further so he could take more of you.
at this point, you were now fully bouncing in his lap, his hands bringing you in closer, making sure you both were body to body, as close as you could be.
“feels so good my princess, fuck yeah, keep bouncing on me like that. doing such a good job for me, pretty girl,” he can’t help but revel in your glow, the faces you’re making, and how you're riding him - he knew you weren’t too far off, and he was getting close too.
as you keep grinding down on him the coil in your belly continues to tighten, and when you finally feel it break, you can’t even give seungcheol so much as a warning when you come all over the lower half of his body.
“holy shit,” you breathe out, trying to compose yourself after the amazing orgasm you just experienced. “cheol, holy shit, you’re amazing,” you chuckle at him and smiles back at you, giving you little pecks around your face.
“nah, that’s all you, princess, no one can do me the way you do.” he stares at you lovingly and you try not to let the blush creep up your face.
——
after a few minutes go by, you both begin to put your clothes back on and you across the room for your bra top. as you bend over to get it, cheol whistles, mentally groaning at how full and pretty your ass looks from far.
“damn princess, have you been working out?” he asks coming closer, giving another smack to your cheek one more time, then putting a few bills in between the strings. you put on your bra, making sure it was decently tight.
“a little bit… you like?”
“like? more so love,” he grabs you by the waist, back flush against his body. his hands stay there, going up and down to every inch of skin. you start to sway your hips, seeing if you could get him hard again.
“ah ah,” he whispers in your ear, licking your earlobe. “don’t start anything you cant finish, sweetheart.”
“i could say the same for you, cheol,” you snake your hands up to caress his face. “but don’t you love that about me baby? when i get started, it’ll be an experience you’ll never ever forget.”
and he’ll admit it - you were right. you are addicting, irresistible, a flame that continues to burn in his heart - his forever pole princess.
#seventeen smut#svt smut#seventeen imagines#svt imagines#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#seungcheol smut#scoups smut#seungcheol imagines#scoups imagine#seungcheol scenarios#scoups scenarios#seungcheol fanfic#scoups fanfic#dsvtt: private dancer#dsvtt: kenny’s works
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