#for some reason it was always /that/ song playing

[sungiescheotluv]

mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would’ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more. 

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes that has you breathless. “It’s another form of self-love, is my thinking. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, trying new things and ultimately, living a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried. 

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel. 

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad. 

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance. 

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.” 

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad. 

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone. 

Ill with lust, as you’d joke. 

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny. 

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.” 

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

[trippinsorrows]

trials of love + three

authors note: the spiral continues....

masterlist

warnings: angst and inebriation

words: 3.9k

song inspo: evermore by josh groban

Solana hasn’t the slightest clue how she got home. Nor does she exactly recall what last night entailed specifically. She just knows that she feels sick. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically.

Laying in bed, still in her clothes from the night prior, upon waking up, one of the first things she notices is the soreness between her legs and some aspect of it with her jaw. Squinting, she goes to wipe her eyes while also realizing that she can’t because her makeup is somehow still on her face. But, the most aggravating of her symptoms is the throbbing headache. 

It’s that last symptom, as well as common sense, that helps her remember the copious amount of drinks she’d had followed by glimpses and flashes. Dancing. Laughing. Drinking.

Sex.

It’s that last one that has her stomach drop, makes the ill feelings intensify. She hooked up with someone. She hooked up with more than just someone. That much, she can recall, and it’s that that has her eyes watering.

She went out last night wanting an escape, and she got one, for sure, but it’s not providing the sort of relief and satisfaction at playing her husband’s game that she thought she would receive.

In fact, in some ways, she feels worse than what she was feeling before.

Needing to get out of bed, especially needing to check on Dulce, Solana drags herself to the bathroom, ignoring her overall aching body. 

She moves over to the sink and works to remove her makeup, a relatively easy task given it practically melts off seamlessly with the help of her face wash. But, it’s when Solana peels off her dress and realizes that her underwear are missing that it hits her. That she becomes fully aware of what she’s done. 

But, it’s really stomped into her consciousness when a glance down reveals dry, white patches almost on the space between her thighs, on her belly, and on the small of her back. Her eyes water.

She knows exactly what that is. 

The tears break through her already crumbling resolve, Solana crying into her hands.

She wanted to do something different, wanted to have fun, wanted to just feel something other than hurt.

Drinking was supposed to be it.

Getting under someone else should have been it, but it wasn’t, and now, she just feels even more awful but even more than that.

She feels disgusted with herself. 

This isn’t who she is. Never been who she is, and it’s not even the fact she had a one night stand that bothers her. She’s 25. There’s nothing wrong with having sex, with a hook up, of sorts. It’s the fact that she let two men she didn’t even know do that with her, that she got so drunk that she allowed herself to do that.

It’s a toss up if it’s better or worse that she can’t remember everything. Judging by the state of her body, especially the soreness, it might be better that she doesn’t.

She must spend a good 45 minutes in the shower, scrubbing her body until her fingers are pruned, the mirror is fogged, and there’s a slight sheen of sweat across her forehead due to the humidity. But even stepping out, she still doesn’t feel right. Doesn’t feel good. 

A truly unfortunate thing as she was hoping and expecting to feel just that. To feel good.

But standing there, having wiped a clear section of the mirror, Solana isn’t sure she’s ever felt so not good about herself.

—------

She’s in his head.

There’s no other explanation. 

Nothing else Roman can identify as being the reason why every time he closes his eyes, he’s almost instantly hit with an image. An image of her. Sometimes, she’s smiling. Other times, she’s frowning. Regardless of the emotion or expression, she’s still there.

She’s always there. When he’s asleep, he thinks of her, dreams of her even. When he’s working, negotiating a deal or sitting in a boring meeting, he wonders what she’s doing.  When he’s in the midst of torturing a confession or information from a prisoner, he imagines the crime has been committed towards her, and it ups the ante. Raises his violence to a completely different level.

And when he’s balls deep inside of a woman, any woman, he imagines it’s her. So much so that it’s Solana’s name leaving his mouth and not the woman under or on top of him. 

She’s haunting him.

And, she doesn’t even fucking realize it.

The same way her stabbing, penetrating words from her phone call he overheard have damned him to this perpetual cycle of suffering. He wants to talk to her, but he avoids her. He wants to return home and sit down and figure things out, but he makes it a mission to take every travel opportunity that comes his way. Even if he has to make something up.

He wants her, but he can’t have her.

Roman doesn’t know what the fuck it would even look like if he allowed himself to actually feel and act on his feelings for his wife. Because not doing so is already hard enough. Actually doing so just might destroy him. 

If she hasn't already.

Roman turns off the shower, stepping out and securing a towel around his waist. He grabs another to dry off some of his hair before reaching for his phone. Lifting up said phone causes it to light up, granting him the view of the same woman who won’t leave him alone.

It’s a photo from their wedding day, something he’d requested. He’d asked for all the photos to hide the fact that he really only wanted the ones with and of Solana. And, he’d gone through every single one of them, seeking out which one he wanted for himself. Wanted to make his lock screen and wallpaper. And, he’d settled on one of her in mid laughter, her head thrown back a little, that beautiful, big smile on her face. He can’t remember who she was talking to, nor did he care, hence him cropping them out the photo.

He just wanted her.

He still does.

But, it’s tracing her face with his finger, Roman knows that ship has sailed. He’s hurt her, hurt her in so many different ways that it’s caused her to go from maybe willing to give this marriage, give them a real chance, to her expressing her hatred of him on the phone with zero guilt.

She meant it when she said she hated him, and Roman can’t even blame her.

Because he was too cowardly to confront and deal with his feelings in an appropriate, healthy way and instead opted for the worse of the worse alternatives.

He turned on her.

Subjected her to cruelty and aloofness that have always defined his character to most people. He just never wanted her to be in that same category of most people, but it’s exactly what he’s done.

He did it. No one else. He can’t put the blame on anyone else for this situation, because it’s one of his own making.

Roman shuts his eyes, taken back to that moment in the kitchen, the moment where she almost broke him. Because seeing the extent she went to to make them dinner, the way she was still trying, despite all of his cruel actions toward her. And, that really fucked with him. 

She just wanted to give them a chance. 

After everything, she was still trying. 

It kills him, it killed him, because he didn’t deserve it then, and he really doesn’t deserve it now especially with how he fucked up that one chance he had. He could have pushed all this avoidance shit away, sat down and actually talked with her like the grown ass man he is.

Instead, he lashed out at her, said every cruel thing he could think of in that moment that completely contrasted everything he actually feels toward and about her. To push her away. He realizes now that’s exactly what he did, what he’s done.

And, it feels like there’s no coming back now.

Roughly ten minutes later, Roman steps out of the bathroom only to be filled with instant irritation.

“The fuck……”

The Tribal Chief doesn’t hesitate to walk over to the large bay window that faces the bed and snatch open the curtains, welcoming in all the blinding sunlight.

Satisfaction starts to fill him seeing the scowl on her face, the way her nose turns up in annoyance. Her eyes start to blink open. “W–wh—”

“You need to leave.” She should have been left. Roman doesn’t know how he let himself fall asleep without making sure he did so alone. See. More evidence of her. “Get out.”

The woman whose name he doesn’t remember and doesn’t care to remember, continues to look confused, which only pisses him off more. What is so goddamn confusing about get out? “Why?”

Roman scowls. “Because I fucking said so.” And, he’s never been and never will be a man to repeat himself. “I’m not gonna fucking tell you again.”

He would never forcibly remove a woman from his hotel room. No. Putting his hands on women and children has always been a line in the sand, largely due to the man he was forced to call father for so many years.

Getting the shit beat out of him by his own father and his emotionally unavailable mother never doing shit to help him taught Roman a lesson he'll never forget nor do away with.

It also fucked him up in ways he's never been able, and might not ever be able, to acknowledge.

All that being said, it doesn't negate the fact that he's not above having security come get this bitch out his space.

She scoffs, kicking the sheets off, nude, curvy body completely exposed. 

It’s only then he realizes why he’d picked her for the evening. Solana. In some ways she reminded him of Solana, similar builds and complexions. Even heights.

She was as best the option he could get to his wife, even if that resemblance still paled in comparison to the real thing. And, it always will. 

Because no one could ever come close to his wife in all of the ways that count.

And, that’s a fact.

“You fucking come all over me, call me some other bitch’s name and now you’re kicking me—”

She stops in the midst of dressing herself when Roman flips over the nearby coffee table at the word bitch. Fear flashes across her face as he says, so dangerously calm but still somehow menacingly. “Get…..out.”

It’s an effective thing, because she’s barely finished zipping up her dress and strapping her heels when she’s rushing out the room, all signs of irritation washed away and replaced with fear.

In some ways, he cares. In most ways, he absolutely does not give a fuck.

Now left alone, Roman runs a hand over his face. The isolation is helpful in some ways, but not others. Because the quiet paves way for the overthinking. Because once again, Roman finds himself thinking about his wife. 

Missing her voice. Her smile. Her laugh. Just her.

It’s a longing and craving that has him doing the unthinkable, has him reaching for his phone and navigating to her contact. Checking the time, he does the math, factoring in the 6 hour time difference between home and Italy, his current location. Around noon, he’s more than confident she’s awake.

Regardless of her being awake, it’s a silly thing to do. To just call her out of nowhere when the last time they spoke is when he surprised her with her dog, her reaction to seeing her pet emotional and telling. 

Her reaction to him, unemotional and also telling.

He could see how done she was with him.

Could almost feel her hatred. So, it's a dumbass thing to do, to try and call her.

But, it’s exactly what he does.

Roman paces across the floor of his opulent hotel suite, each ring of the phone another weight added to his chest.

And, then he hears it. 

The best and worst thing.

“Hello?” Her voice is laden with sleep, like she’s not fully conscious, something that surprises him given the time back home. 

Still, he swallows and replies, “hey.” Roman swallows, feeling the need to identify himself for some reason. “It’s....it's me.”

A beep and then nothing. 

Roman pulls the phone back from his ear to see Solana’s contact.

She hung up the phone.

He closes his eyes. A completely fair reaction, one he can’t blame her for. At all.

Still, he finds himself unable to accept this as he switches to their text thread and tries an alternate route.

It’s when his messages turn green that something similar to dread fills Roman. He’s not very tech savvy, at all, but he’s pretty sure he knows what it means when texting someone with an iPhone and the messages suddenly change colors.

He tests it out, going to call her again when instead of a ring, he’s instantly hit with the sound of her voice.

“Hi! You’ve reached Solana. I’m unable to come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number……”

Roman’s look is distant, his emotions elsewhere as he distractedly hangs up the phone, letting it fall in his lap as he slumps back into his chair with the undeniable confirmation.

She’s blocked him.  

—-----------

Solana was already having a bad day. A bad week, even. Starting out with her unspoken, salacious actions with Tama and Zilla, the latter of which ended up being an asshole just like her husband. Tama, however, seems to be sweet. Seems more genuine.

Unlike her husband.

Roman….

Just the thought of him has her blood boiling.

Audacity. 

That’s the first and best word to come to mind. After everything he’s done, after everything he said, he has the fucking audacity to try to call her and act like everything’s okay. To act like nothing happened when everything happened. 

It messed with her, for certain. Messed with her enough for her to finally reply to Zilla’s texts, needing a distraction, only for that to be a shitshow. Thankfully, communication with Tama helped a bit. Even her stepping out of her comfort zone to take those photos, to send them, was a nice, different thing.

There’s a small part of her that wonders if she should have sent them to him, but he was so supportive, so kind, and she needed that in that moment. 

She needed that kind of attention to distract from her awful, evil husband.

Solana downs more of her drink, ignoring the burning and unpleasant taste. So far, she’s yet to see what people find so great about the taste of liquor. She’s been every bit unimpressed.

Granted, not enough to bypass going out tonight. A different club. Because while Tama has been nice, she doesn’t want to risk running into him and especially Zilla.

That….that was a one and done. 

A hook up is…..okay, but hooking up with two men at the same time is just….it’s too much for her, personally. 

And an hour later, she's back at it. Drunk, sitting at the bar in some random, nameless bar, having danced with a couple different guys but yet to find one she "likes" enough to hook up with.

Finishing another shot, Solana requests one more before squeezing her way through the crowd of intoxicated, dancing bodies and finds the restroom. She can feel it, feel the way Dre watches her every move, how he keeps a comfortable but not unsafe distance. It makes her want to both smirk and roll her eyes. He’s so serious. 

Had a bit of an attitude with her when she told him she wanted to go out again tonight. Had the audacity to tell her he didn’t think it was a good idea. Solana had to quickly remind him that he works for her. Not the other way around.

She already has one asshole in her life she can’t get rid of. 

She doesn’t need another.

After emptying her bladder, Solana flushes the toilet and stumbles a bit over to the sink to wash her hands. 

Damn heels.

“Oh em gee.” She looks up in the mirror to see two women looking at her. One tall and raven haired with an unreadable expression, her arms crossed. The other is short and blonde with a broad smile that seems too big for her face, like her mouth is too big for her face. “I love your dress,” she compliments, looking over at the woman next to her. “Isn’t it so cute, Raquel?”

The tall woman, this Raquel, simply nods. “It’ll do.”

The blonde woman scoffs, rolling her eyes and flipping her hair. She looks back at Solana. “Ignore her. She’s not big into fashion like I am.” She moves over, offering her hand. “I’m Liv, and this is my bestie, Raquel.”

Solana is only staring dumbly for a good few seconds, partially confused where these two came from as well as the almost strange encounter. But, as soon as she gathers her bearings, she shakes her hands dry and reaches for a paper towel to complete the drying before accepting said handshake. “Nice—nice to meet you. I’m Solana.”

Liv’s jaw drops. “Oh my goodness, what a pretty name!” She tilts her head to the side, asking, “is it like Spanish or something? It sounds Spanish.” She places a hand over her chest, a dramatic gesture. “Are you Spanish? I love Spanish people.”

Solana isn’t quite sure what to make of Liv or this whole encounter. “I’m—I’m Black and Mexican.” Even answering such a question, the way it was posed, the whole thing, just feels weird. But, that could also be the three shots she’s had so far tonight.

Liv starts to clap, looking at Raquel. “Raquel is Mexican, too! Maybe you two are like related or something.” Solana can only blink. “Anyway, you wanna hang out with us?”

Not really. 

That’s the first thing to come to Solana’s mind. It’s a bit of an instinctual thing. Something that Solana would normally, if not inebriated, would abide by and heed to. But, she’s not sober, she’s drunk as hell, lonely as hell, and partially eager to have some companionship from someone other than men who want to fuck her and men paid to protect her.

Especially as she’s found herself not engaging as much with her family and friends back home for reasons she’s not ready to acknowledge.

Solana’s loneliness is just too powerful a drug to resist. “Sure.”

Liv claps, and Raquel rolls her eyes, grabbing Solana’s hand. “Yay! I’ve gotta introduce you to the gang.”

Solana frowns. 

Gang?

Still, she remains quiet and wordless as Raquel serves as a sort of guide, navigating them through the crowd like an unofficial bodyguard. They arrive at one of the VIP sections, Solana instantly coughing at the overwhelming smell of smoke and weed.

She clears her throat, Raquel looking back and rolling her eyes. “Too much for you to handle, chica?”

There’s a hint of mockery to her tone coupled with the sly smile on her face.

Liv pouts and hugs Solana from the side. “Raquel, be nice to our new best friend.” She then gestures to the group of men Solana is just now noticing. “Guys, this is our new friend, Solana. Solana, this is the gang.”

The gang is made up of four men. Two white men on the shorter side, heads almost too big for their bodies, one looking almost indifferent, the other hitting a blunt. The other two look like they could be Hispanic, one significantly older than the other, than all of them, his wide eyes matching his wild, wild afro. He gives her a nod, while the other with a mustache that doesn’t make sense no matter how one frames it, smiles broadly.

He walks over, tall and lanky build also slanted, greeting suggestively, “very nice to meet you, mami.”

Solana doesn’t see it, too busy being distracted by the aroma of marijuana, the alcohol in her system, and the almost discomfort with the set of eyes on her. She doesn’t see the jealous, almost sinister gleam in Liv’s eyes watching the interaction.

Liv quickly shoves it away and clears her throat, forcing a big smile as she skips over to mustache man. “Oh, daddy Dom, stop it.” She giggles, reaching up giving him an eskimo kiss before looking at Solana. “Solana, this is my man, Dominik.” Solana offers a closed mouth smile as Liv continues with the introductions. “That’s Carlito, JD, and Finn. Don’t worry too much about Finn. He always looks like that, and JD is always high.”

“Fuck you, Liv.”

Liv responds by lifting her middle finger, still focused on Solana. “Hey, do you want—”

“Solana!”

Dre’s urgent voice immediately evokes an irritated countenance. Solana felt him following her and the other two ladies but hoped he would just quietly observe and not interfere. Clearly. That’s not the case.

Sighing, she turns around, rolling her eyes. Solana reaches for the nearest bottle of alcohol and downs some, ignoring the burning before mustering an insincere smile. “Yes?”

He looks every bit as pissed as she expected. “Look, I let you have your fun, but this shit is getting out of control.” He gestures to the group behind her, all now watching the scene unfold. “The Judgment Day? Do you even know who they are?” No, she doesn’t, and sober Solana would absolutely care to ask, to know more, and once she knew more, she would run like hell.

But, drunken Solana is controlled by the emotions she can’t control and the hurt she can’t seem to shake, so she doesn’t care who they are.

“Would you just leave me alone?” She sneers, looking around to see if she can score another shot or some type of alcohol. The bottle in her hand is nearing on empty.

Dre, however, stands ten toes down. “No. The Tribal Chief wouldn’t—”

There’s something about that, about hearing his title, anything about him, that’s triggering. So much so that Solana snaps and throws the bottle at the nearest wall, prompting cursing and laughter behind her.

Solana’s voice drips with all the venom as she asserts, “I don’t give a damn what he wouldn’t want.” At one point, she did. At one point, she cared. At one point, she maybe started to more than just care. And, it only led to disaster.

Never again.

The inebriation shows its full face as Solana scoffs, “you may be his bitch, but I’m not.” 

Dre’s jaw clenches, his ability to remain professional crumbling. “You’re drunk. You need—”

“What I need is for you to leave me the hell alone.” Honestly. Truly. He can take the Roman approach and get the hell out of dodge for all she cares. And then a thought crosses her mind, something so unlike her, but so aligned with this self-destructive path she’s found herself on. “I would hate for a certain someone you work for to find out about those pictures I sent you.”

Dre’s eyes widen ever so slightly, Solana sensing the brief panic. He steps forward, lowering his voice. “I never asked you to send—”

“You think that’ll matter to him?” Solana’s response is sharp and challenging. Her smile is almost malicious, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Think that won’t make him kill you any less painfully?” Dre’s silence as well as the look of defeat on his face is all she needs to know she’s most definitely won this round. “yeah….that’s what I thought.”

Turning away, the satisfaction that fills her is about what and what with the deep feeling stirring within that a dire mistake was just made.

One of many more to come.

[bedlam-barbie]

Attention

Pairing: Hwang In-hu x recruier!fem!reader ; slight Salesman x fem!reader

Warnings: jealous!In-Hu; slightly obsessive!In-Hu; slightly suggestive themes and words: yearning; angst; probably ooc!In-Hu

Word count: ~4k

Author’s note: sooo this is my first fanfiction I have written in 10 years, what this man does to me… I needed some more recruiter!reader as I am so obsessed with the idea. I also included the Salesman as he is my other guilty pleasure. I deeply want to write a part 2 , let me know if you are interested!

Hwang In-Hu had always hated clubs. He hated the obnoxious music. He hated the smell of sweat and desperation. He hated people pushing into each other. He hated the shameless displays of people grinding and almost taking their clothes in the middle of the dance floor. He hated the cheap liquor diluted with water. He hated random people getting it on in those disgusting toilets. It was safe to say, In-Hu would rather be anywhere else than there. 

But there was one thing he didn’t hate about it. 

Her hair was bouncing to the rapid rhythm, her body somehow knowing how to sway to every beat of every song, sending him into a trance. She would always make eye contact with him lip syncing to the filthiest lyrics. Her lips always painted in a beautiful red color almost begging him to come over and taste them. It was almost like their own ritual. He would sit at their reserved table in a leather armchair, nursing a glass of whiskey, while she would be just within his eye reach dancing, a mischievous look behind those oh so pretty eyes. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, unless absolutely having to, she would not look at him, not address him. It was like In-Hu was not worthy of her attention. He was aware he fucked up, that was the whole reason he even showed up to this God forsaken rats’ nest. The more she ignored him, the more starved he became, a combination of anger and hurt playing at his heartstrings. 

Lust and guilt coiled tightly within him, indistinguishable from one another. She wasn’t just beautiful—her beauty was deliberate, a weapon she wielded with precision. And him, unarmed and unprepared, stood squarely in her sights. He should’ve looked away. He didn’t. In-Hu took another sip of the whiskey as he watched her dance with him as he contemplated what has brought him to this specific moment.

It was a sunny morning in Seoul, a rare occurrence in the grey autumn. He looked over at the other side of the bed, finding her sleeping peacefully. She was sleeping on her back, her beautiful hair splattered on the black satin pillow. Her chest was slowly rising and falling, his white crisp shirt covering almost nothing of her perfect figure. For the first time since he had met her 3 years ago, she looked delicate, youthful, carefree. Gone were the sassy attitude, the makeup, the expensive clothes and her sharp tongue. In-Hu placed a soft kiss between her breasts as he made his way out of the bed into the shower. 

The smell of her skin, the sound of her voice moaning, the softness of her delicate body, they were all stuck in his mind, as well as her little love confession. He was planning to get started on breakfast, make some coffee, treat her like a princess. As he exited his shower, he took a look at his phone, making sure he hadn’t missed any important work-related calls. The games were going to start in just over a week and everything had to be perfect. That’s when he saw the date. 

25th of October.

In-Hu’s heart dropped as he read it over and over again. No, it wasn’t possible. The 25th was going to be in a few days. He franticly opened his calendar checking again.

And again online.

And again, on his physical one.

And all over again on his phone.

He felt a rush of panic wash through him. Hwang In-Hu was not a man that panicked. Or a forgetful man. Ever. But even so the thought was plaguing his mind: He had forgotten. How could have that happened? Afterall, it was the anniversary of his wife’s death. He would always buy her flowers on the 25th. He would always bring them over to her grave. He would always spend at least 2 hours speaking to her, to her and their unborn child. 

Well, until now, he did at least. Uncontrollable anger burned through his mind. Anger at himself, anger at her. He was supposed to be at the cemetery. Not saying yes to her invite to have some drinks at the bar near their work. Not letting a spoiled insane subaltern seduce him with her long lashes and playful smiles. Not fucking said stupid girl who was two whole decades younger than him. 

He didn’t even realize when she sneaked behind him, putting her arms around his waist and smiling into his back.

“Good morning, handsome” her voice whispered softly. 

The sweetness in her voice made his heart flutter. Which in turn, made him even more inexplicably angry. His body tensed up under her touch and he pushed her arms away. 

“Someone woke up to the wrong side of the bed” she teased.

Under any other circumstance, he would have been amused. She would always tease him and he quite frankly found it as endearing as it also turned him on.

“It’s time for you to go” In-Hu replied coldly.

He could see her tense up as well. Her hands crossed over her body. His dress shirt which he found so unbelievably hot on her earlier now looked like a painful reminder of his own shame.

“Excuse me?” her voice was controlled but she was hiding her built up anger as well.

“I said, you should leave. You were great last night and everything, but let’s not treat it as if it was more than us scratching an inch.” His voice was measured and he looked into her eyes. He could see she was hurt by his words. Damn it, he hated seeing her in pain. 

“In-Hu, you said you loved me last night. You told me how long you’ve waited to say it, to kiss me. You kissed me as if you were dying and I was the only thing that could save you.” 

God, she was right. He did and say it all, and he did mean it. His face was cold unenterable.

“Maybe you should not listen to what old perverted men like me tell you. God, your father really did a number on you if you are dumb enough to sleep with any old men.” In-Hu knew his words would hurt her, but he needed her to stay away. It was better like this. The anger he harbored in that moment for himself and for her would only end in one way: violence. And while he was all for rough play, he would not touch her in that way. 

“I called you a taxi already”

Smack

The sound of her hand hitting him across the face echoed in the penthouse. His jaw clenched, his eyes suddenly burning of desire. The thoughts of his wife finally stopped and there was nothing but silence. Without giving it another thought, his palms found her cheeks pulling her into a desperate hungry kiss. He felt her body tense up and she pulled away.

Smack

Her eyes were burning of unspoken anger and pain, some tears threatening to fall. She angrily spit in his face. It took him by surprise. Everything was so quick.

“Fuck you” she whispered.

She turned around grabbing the remains of her dress and heels and she hurried out. She looked almost pathetic. Her figure gathering everything in the stupid white shirt. To him, she never looked so small, so broken and his heart almost ached. When she left, silence took over completely. In-Hu knew he screwed up, badly, but in that second, her feelings were the last thing on his mind. 

The next time they met was just after the games, earlier tonight. She had not tried contacting him after the incident and neither did he. Whether it was guilt or his shame it did not matter. He poured it all into the games. In-Hu tried to pretend it was just another incident that did not affect him in the slightest. At the end of the day, she was just another employee, another recruiter. He promised himself he would never betray the memory of his wife again. As long as he did not see her it was fine.

Then it came the celebration. Oh Il-Nam decided for everyone in the company to meet for dinner and a poker night at one of the most reputable places in Seoul. Their blackjack table was set apart from the others in a private room overlooking the city. It was a tradition after all, every year after the end of the games, they would come together to celebrate it. As he was very much aware, that would probably be the last one hosted by Il-Nam and as Frontman and the next in line to take his place as the Host, he knew it was mandatory for him to attend regardless of personal feelings.

At first, he told himself that it was fine. That he will see her again and they would both be acting professional for the sake of Il-Nam. While she was an attention seeker through and through, In-Hu was not about to grant her the satisfaction of regretting his choices. As expected, he was one of the first ones to arrive. One by one all appeared before the scheduled time 20:00. His heart quickened as the arrival time came and went but she was not there. He scoffed to himself. Of course she was late, always making an entrance, always captivating the eye of every man that dared to breathe in her presence. In Hu liked to lie to himself and say it never affected him like that. Sure, she was stunningly beautiful, but she was just another woman. And then she did finally appear.

Dressed in a mini black Yves Saint Laurent dress hugging every curve of her body, her red bottom heels clicking as she made her entrance. Her signature red lipstick and blow out making her look utterly ethereal. She had a black leather trench that one of the valets quickly pulled down. She was wearing tight high stockings and for a few seconds, In-hu forgot how to breathe. The officer looked at him knowingly and handed him a glass of whiskey.

She was a storm that commanded surrender, and everyone fell willingly.

Throughout the whole night, she did not even glance once towards him. She sat down next to the Salesman. God, how he disliked that one. In-Hu saw him as nothing more than a psychopath. A useful psychopath, but none the less, a psychopath. He never even bothered to know his name, for him it did not matter, he was as important like a gum stuck onto his shoe. He could remark that he was a loyal one though, every year bringing one of the biggest number of recruits for the games, as big as the ones she did. After all, he was the one that recruited him as well. He supposed his disdain for the man came from that. 

As dinner finished, the mandatory game of blackjack started. At this point it was tradition. It was Il-Nam’s favorite game and as it was most probably the last year he would take part in it; he saw it as proper to participate. However, he could not concentrate on the game. He heard her giggle, and his eyes instinctively went to find her.

In-hu saw her arrange the Salesman’s tie, while whispering seductively in his ear, her hand touching his chest for a little more time than necessarily. He felt himself getting angry as he saw the perfectly manicured hands traveling onto the other man’s body. It was not like he has not seen it before. He was perfectly aware of her flirtatious manners, at the end of the day, she acted the same way towards him. So why was he getting so irrationally angry?

“I win again. At this point, you guys have to try a little harder, it is getting exhausting to keep on seeing you lose” she said smugly as she dragged the tokens towards her, a smirk playing on her perfect lips.

“And what do I win, if I may be so indiscreet?” the Salesman’s voice purred close to her ear. 

“Children, behave, there are elders present” In-Hu’s voice rang before he could control it. He was starting to get irritated by the sound of his stupid voice.

“Oh, In-hu, it’s fine. I think it is rather exciting to raise the stakes. You know how these young ones are, they would do anything for the thrill” Il-Nam’s voice said amused. “And after all, I think they would make quite a dashing pair.”

Jealousy coiled in his chest like a venomous snake, hissing and writhing with every stolen glance he dared to throw at her. What did he even mean? The Salesman was 40 for god’s sake, and she was 25! It was not as if they were witnessing some sort of young exciting love story. No, it was a psychopath and a brat trying to get his attention. However, he gave a cold smile towards the pair and returned to his hand, wishing this night would end already. He had no idea that it was just getting started.

After about two hours, Il-Nam announced that he would be leaving. And that was the moment, In Hu knew things were about to take a turn. Until that moment, everything between her and the Salesman were casual touches. Nothing out of the ordinary, but he was aware of her intentions to make him suffer in every way she could imagine, and he was not about to let her succeed. 

“Full house” her voice sang. 

She won. Again. It would have been impressive if it was not so annoying. Did she have to be so good at everything? In Hu thought gritting his teeth. It was unfair how natural everything came to her. She was the most interesting and exciting person he had ever met. Every single move was perfectly executed with grace laced by playfulness, her fingers intertwined with a martini glass in one hand and a cigarette in another. Every time her lips pressed to the filter fascinated the Frontman completely. Every strand of hair framing her soft features, reminding him of the night they spent together.

“Not going to lie, you guys are really boring” she said raising an eyebrow. “But since I won again, I propose the following, you each owe me a drink at a place of my choosing.” 

“And where would that be?” The Officer asked.

“Oh, I want to go dancing” she smirked as she left the martini glass on the table.

“Dancing? I would rather shoot myself” In-Hu scoffed. 

“I’m sorry, did you win? No, I didn’t think so” she said looking straight into the man’s eyes.

 If looks could kill, he would have been a dead man. 

“Well, I for one would love to take you anywhere you wanted. A deal is a deal” the Salesman added, his hand slipping on her exposed back.

While going to a club was the last thing that In Hu wanted, he was not going to let him take her out of his sight. He clenched his jaw tightly. He thought about how easy it would be to simply pull out his gun on that psychopath’s head and simply end it right now. God why did she have to make it so messy? While replaceable, he thought about the hassle he would have to go through to find another man to take his job and actually do it as well. No, killing the Salesman would only create more problems for himself, but the image of her pretty face being covered in a quick splash of his blood was tempting. 

“Fine. Let’s go.”

And now there he was, watching her like a hawk, toying with his drink, while she was dancing with someone he should had squished like a bug, the second he got in power. No matter, in all due time, he would be gone. His beautiful muse was swaying seductively to the beat of the song while playing with the Salesman’s tie, her eyes hungry for more. In Hu knew that look well. It was the same look she had in her eyes while she was on top of him just a few weeks ago. Hungry, desperate, mischievous. 

“So, are you going to do something or let that piece of trash get your woman?” the Officer inquired pulling the Frontman out of his spell.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” In Hu replied coldly downing the rest of the drink. He had asked the bartender for the whole bottle; he knew he would need it the second they entered. He lit up a cigarette while pouring another glass, his eyes still stuck on the two of them.

“Come on, you look ready to jump and kill him on the spot” the other man said lighting up a cigarette of his own. While technically not allowed on the premises of the club, what were they going to do? Kick them out? 

“Maybe I will” 

“We both know that would be unwise. And besides, I’ve seen her stealing glances at you, that is exactly what she wants. So do all of us a favor and fuck her good, cause if you don’t… I just know he would make sure she screams.”

“Mind your tongue, Officer.”

“Come on man, we both know her type. Bitches like her need to know their place.”

The second the words came out of his mouth, In hu took his cigarette from his lips swiftly and extinguished it on the back of the man’s hand. He would not have anyone speak that way, not of her. The Officer winced in surprise but did not have the courage to say another word. This was a warning.

“Next time I will not be so nice about it. Speak another ill word about her and I just might shatter a glass and cut that finger of yours off. Or better yet, your tongue.”

His eyes went back to the show in front of him. There was his woman, dancing now on the top of the bar with a bottle of Don Perignon champagne. Her smile was big and seductive, her moves perfectly rehearsed. God, the more he looked at her the more stunning she looked. Her skin glistened under the club light. Her hair once styled to perfection was bouncing around wildly to the music. She moved effortlessly, like gravity was an afterthought, and the air around her seemed taut, tethered to her presence by an invisible string.

Seeing her like that, made his heart flutter. She truly was spectacular. And for a second, she looked at him again. He could have sworn the planet stopped spinning in that moment. Everyone else fading into darkness as if they were the only two people in the world. 

“Do you believe in true love?” Her question surprised him.

It was the night they met randomly in the bar by the office. In Hu was dressed in a jet-black Versace suit, his hair slicked backed. Expensive shoes were slowly tapping to the sound of jazz music in the background. He took a moment before he responded, his face staring into his empty glass. 

“If you had asked me this 5 years ago, I would have said yes.”

“And now?”

“Only sometimes. Usually when I look at you.” 

His words surprised even himself. Maybe it was the one too many glasses of whiskey, or the way she looked at him from behind those doe eyes. Maybe it was the way her knee was slightly touching his or her scent. Amber and vanilla. Always amber and vanilla, sometimes with a faint cigarette smell. She smiled and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. If only she knew the effect she had on him, he would never hear the end of it.

“Now, Sir, maybe you should stop speaking like that or I might start to believe you are in love with me”

In Hu did not respond but a smirk appeared on his lips. He leaned over to her and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. His palm then travelled onto her cheek finally resting by her lips. She looked at him, a seductive grin taking form. Carefully, she kissed his palm, and each finger, while maintaining the Frontman’s gaze. When done with her little show, she lightly took his thumb in her mouth slowly sucking on it.

“Tsk tsk, little dove, careful what you wish for” he warned her, his face stern but feeling his heart rate go slowly upwards. 

Her eyes effortlessly left his, her attention peaked by the Salesman’s voice, breaking their trance. As soon as he no longer felt her gaze, In-Hu made up his mind. He had made a mistake, one that he would do anything to fix. While he hated the way the Officer spoke about her, he was right about one thing. She was his woman after all, and this cat and mouse game was getting old. He was man enough to admit that he had lost against her and now all he wanted was to take her to his bed and fuck her hard to show her who she belonged to. He got up the sofa just as he saw her get down from the bar. 

“Finally,” the Officer muttered.

“Did I not make myself clear last time?”

In Hu’s voice snapped glaring at his colleague, taking his eye off her for just a second. His gaze went back to the spot he had left her but she was no longer there. In the dark he saw a glint of the back of her dress leaving towards the side of the bar. The Frontman finished his drink and made his way to follow her. He was not even sure what to say to her, he had never acted impulsively before. Every single one of his actions had been perfectly calculated for the past few years. 

Lost in thought he had caught up with her. That’s when he saw the scene unfolding in front of him. Her back was pressed against the wall, her hands folded around the Salesman’s neck, fingers tangled into his dark black hair. His woman’s legs were resting around his torso. He could make out the man’s face buried deep into her neck kissing it sloppily, her head tilted slightly on the side, a soft moan escaping her beautiful lips. And then she looked straight ahead into In Hu’s eyes. A sarcastic smile played on her mouth. Fuck you, her eyes said before capturing the Recruiter’s lips in a passionate kiss, her beautiful legs pulling him in closer to her own body.

The Frontman froze for a few seconds as he watched them kiss as if there was no tomorrow, their bodies busy in a seductive tango. Anger and jealousy danced within his veins fueling his body completely. Not now, he thought desperately trying to keep his mask of coldness from cracking under the club lights. But deep inside he also felt the familiar sting of a feeling he long ago buried. 

Pain. Gut wrenching pain. 

[stardewfanficwriters]

Meet Our Writers

This week's spotlighted guild member is Friday!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily_alphonse/profile Tumblr: @lily-alphonse Age: 28 Pronouns: She/Her Guild Member since: November 2024

Fun Fact about yourself? I play the ukulele (badly)

How long have you been writing fanfiction? I only really started some time in 2022 when I wrote a Seb/OC longfic just for myself. The first fic I ever posted was a BG3 fic on Nov 14th 2023, so I've been posting for a bit over a year now! That being said I've always liked writing, and used to write all the time as a kid.

Favourite SDV character to write? Even though I always marry Seb, I think Elliott might be my favorite because I can get so artsy with him I love writing him poetry. Sam is probably a close second.

Favourite tropes/genre to write? I primarily write m/m and LOOOVE angst with a happy ending, enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, mutual pining.

Your most popular SDV fanfic? Currently its Steamy, a SebAlex oneshot where Sebastian is having a terrible time quitting cigarettes, and goes to the gym to let off some steam. Alex is there and assumes Sebastian has come for a very different reason…

Your SDV underdog fic you wish more people would give a chance? Guardheart. It's a songfic for one of my favorite songs featuring Alex x Elliott in a medieval AU! It is beautiful and tragic and I reread it all the time, I'm very proud of it. But since it's a medieval AU and a rarepair, it doesn't get much attention.

Hear me out: Sebastian is in his mid-to-late 20s. People like to think he's younger because of his style and he lives in his mom's basement but that's normal into late 20s and he has a steady grownup job. His relationship with Demetrius doesn't really make sense if Demetrius came into his life when he was a baby

Lastly, any other fandoms you write for? Yes! I think at the moment I have 15 lol. I mostly write for SDV and Legend of Zelda, but some other big ones are BG3, Fields of Mistria, Disney, and Minecraft

We are so lucky to have such a talented and prolific writer amongst our ranks! If you check out her fics, please be sure to kudos and comment to show your support for small artists and writers.

If you write Stardew Valley fanfiction and would like to join our guild, please message this blog for an invite!

Credit to @lily-alphonse & @saradika for the banners

Please see AO3 for additional tags. Reader discretion is advised as always.

[mircsy]

Hi! First of all, I hope you're having a great day and if not then that it will get better very soon 💙

I was wondering about one thing - how does being popular in the fandom/liked by people here make you feel? I mean, is that annoying or maybe more heartwarming? Did you want it when you first started animating? And when people want to befriend you do you feel bad about it/tired of it or maybe you are happy about it (or something totally else)? I'm just curious, if you don't want to answer, you don't have to, obviously!

Oh, these are some interesting questions that I have never really considered before, hmm…

I definitely didn’t do my first EPIC animatic to become popular, I never thought it would become popular, let alone lead to working with Jorge later. Until now I was used to that my works don’t get much attention, and I just accepted that. If twenty, thirty, at top fifty people see them, that’s already a huge success for me even now. What heartwarming is when people freak out when I pop in the EPIC discord server chats now and then, although those times I freak out as well because I’m always surprised someone recognises me ahaha. Or when I see people discuss what they like about my works BUT reading reasonable, constructive critisism is also very much appreciated and welcome.

When the fandom was smaller I made some good friends, and keep contact with them even today. Nowadays not many want to befriend me, though there is a bunch of EPIC and other artists who’ve been brought together about half a year ago to play gartic phone (I’ll always be deeply grateful to you @abandoned-raccoon ) and that group works like a found family now😂

And honorable mentions to @arwenmusic and Casper Fox, top tier song writers and musicians

If fans tried to reach out to me to befriend me, however, even if not annoying, it would definitely be overwhelming. Therefore, I am standoff-ish when it happens. Especially because on the internet one can never know the true intention of another.

[violetvines]

Hi can you please make HCs about Nash

yeehaw darlin'

nash hawthorne, the best big brother in the world 🧸

- he snores – he snores very very loudly

- every year on his birthday, he has a solo taylor swift jamming session but one day xander caught him in the act (he was a little bit embarrassed but xander ended up joining in to make him feel better about it)

- after he left hawthorne house, he actually checked in with grayson via voice call every other week to ensure everything was okay (he only really cared about gray, jamie and xan)

- there was once when he stole gray and jamie away on the 22nd of august (jameson's birthday, aka the day tobias hawthorne always wants gray and jamie to compete over something) because "no one should have to compete with their brother on their birthday" and he brought them to an actual outing at a funfair – jameson and grayson will never admit it but that was their favourite shared birthday outing ever (and sadly... one of the only times they had such a thing)

- he wrote a song with his guitar before (inspired by taylor), but he has never let anyone hear it – anyone but libby, who he sang it to in the hospital while she was going through contractions (cheered her up a whole lot)

- one time, he roasted skye really badly (third degree burn kind of badly) just for fun – she was a terrible mother anyways, no take offense

- because he knows libby struggles with self-confidence sometimes, he leaves little notes around their house to remind her how she will always be enough

- he loves how to train your dragon, the first movie came out when he was 11 and that really spurred his interest in horse-riding (if he couldn't ride dragons, the next best thing was horses yeehaw)

- he doesn't get scared easily – once, they went to a haunted house but he didn't even scream... he just said "nice try, darlin'" to one of the ghosts

- his favourite subject is recess – he did relatively well in school, never fell behind, but it wasn't his favourite part of life

- he likes looking at the sky, stargazing and just anything to do with staring at the wide and unlimited canvas of it – when he still lived at hawthorne house, he used to drag out a few blankets to the garden and just lie down thinking about things

- he was a natural at learning to ride his bike and got his license the first try

- he never liked emily – he saw through her, saw how she manipulated everyone around her including his brothers – he always had an intense dislike towards her and sometimes when he looked at her, he wouldn't even try to hide it

𓍢ִ໋ but he couldn't bear to make gray and jamie unhappy, so he kept his suspicions to himself – he did try to tell them he had a bad feeling about it once, but they didn't talk to him the next few days and he figured that addressing the issue outwardly would just make things worse, so he would just quietly keep an eye on things (ofc he didn't know everything that emily had in store for them with the stupid competition of "whoever wins will get to date me" or wtv)

- that's why in some way, he also blames himself a little for the aftermath of emily's death and how they fell apart because he left before it happened and didn't manage to do anything to reduce the damage

- his favourite season is autumn just because he likes the vibes of it

- tiramisu is the hawthorne dog, but he's mainly the one who takes care of her, gives her showers and everything – ofc the staff is there to help but he cleans her up as much as he can, often refusing to let them do it

- he's that kind of guy who will call other guys out if he sees them treating a girl in the wrong way (which is also the main reason why any bar fights involving him break out but he always wins anyway)

- he played basketball when he was a teen and has some really good skillz

[phreakedt]

I was someone once... An adventurer.

(read more for me rambling about the emperor)

theres rarely any particular meaning or intent behind my art but i swear the emperor is literally my muse, so i thought id share my thoughts about what this piece means! i was listening to punish by ethel cain and couldnt get this idea out of my head… i feel like the line "i was an angel, but they made me leave" or the fallen from grace motif pretty well encapsulates the tragedy of balduran and the emperor and why he'll always be such a sympathetic character to me.

ultimately while there are valid reasons to believe the emperor's evil/irredeemable or whatever, its quite literally not his fault he became what he is. he never asked for his ceremorphosis (of course, he came to accept it, but that doesnt make it any less fucked up). its generally considered that mankind is capable of good and evil in equal measure, but if your humanity is literally stripped away from you, what is there to stop your descent? this isnt even to justify his actions but instead about how titles like "angel" and "demon", "good" and "bad" etc etc are so subjective and perception-based. like if it was the human(oid) balduran and not a mind flayer behind all his actions throughout the game, i doubt he'd be so universally hated. i mean, better a bad person than a literal monster, right?

there's also the "only god knows / only god would believe", or to me the idea that no matter how hard the emperor may try to exercise morality, he's so far departed from his former self that people will only ever see him as a villain, not a hero. its truly a damned if you do, damned if you dont situation. and most ironic is the fact that despite everything, he hasnt fully lost his humanity. he genuinely yearns for companionship and mourns what hes lost and who he used to be (to some degree). i think hes so well-written because he is just like you in the sense that hes simply playing the cards he was dealt, right or wrong. i could go on and on about this awesome character and song (especially its themes of perversion, punishment, and love) but that's the gist. thanks for reading ^^

[cheshireliam]

"The Fairytale Keeper's Final Assesment" Story Event: Premium END

Liam Evans

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

<< Liam’s POV >>

Liam: An explanation about…?  

(What could it be? I've explained most of the things about Crown’s castle, and introduced as many members as possible…) 

(I don't understand… this is about Kate, and yet I still can't understand. I…) 

Just as my thoughts reached a dead end, Kate gently cupped my face between her hands. 

Liam: … Kate…? 

Kate: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to criticise you. 

Kate: So please don’t look so hurt. 

Liam: B-but… it’s my fault for not explaining enough… 

Kate: It’s not your fault at all! 

Kate: … If anything, missing out that explanation is exactly what you would do. 

Kate kept smiling at me, she didn't seem to care about the missing explanation. 

Kate: I’m talking about you, Liam.

Liam: Huh…?

Kate: The number one thing that matters to me, the one explanation I wanted to hear the most, is about you. 

Kate’s words made me reflect on everyone that had happened today. 

[ Flashback ]

Kate: Um… when I opened my eyes, the man standing in front of me was so dazzlingly handsome, I was caught off guard.

…

Kate: Liam, do you mind it when Jude asks you for such favours? 

…

Kate: Fufu, you two seem very close. Have you been like this since the beginning?

…

Kate: What song do you like, Liam? 

[ Flashback End ]

Kate’s interest was always directed at me.

She kept wanting to know more about me. 

Kate: You showed many great things about Crown, but… 

Kate: You’re a part of Crown that’s wonderful too, you know?

Liam: ah… 

Kate: Your kind personality as a guide will surely be a prominent trait to any new members… 

Kate: But I thought it’d be nice if they could know more about you too. 

Kate: I want others to know the good things about the man I love… 

Kate: … That’s kind of biased of me, isn’t it?

Kate: Even so, this is my honest opinion.

Liam: …

Liam: Thanks… Kate. 

(I was so desperate to make Kate stay, I failed to see it.) 

(I love Crown… and I’m part of what makes Crown great too.) 

(... Once again, Kate has helped me to realise something important.) 

Kate: … One more thing, Liam. It’s about time you told me, isn't it?

Liam: Tell you about what? 

Kate: The real reason for the tour! 

Kate: I realised it from how Harrison and William were acting. 

Kate: The tour wasn’t meant for “future new members”, am I right to say that? 

Liam: I… I can’t say it. 

Kate: … I’m worried, Liam. I feel like you’re trying to bottle everything up. 

Kate: Can you share it with me? 

… And so, I told Kate everything. 

…

Kate: Fairytale Keeper assessment… 

Liam: I want you to stay in Crown, Kate. 

Liam: That’s why I planned the tour to remind you of all the good things about Crown. 

Liam: I wanted you to feel like you’d want to stay here…

Kate: So that’s what this whole thing is about…

Liam: … What do you think? Do you still want to stay in Crown? 

Kate: Of course! Please let me continue being your Fairytale Keeper. 

Liam: Thanks, Kate. 

Seeing Kate nod so firmly filled my heart to the brim with joy. 

Overwhelmed by my emotions, I pulled Kate into a hug.

Kate: … Oh, Liam. 

Liam: Mm, what is it? 

Kate: I know that the purpose of today’s tour was to make Crown appeal to me, but… 

Kate: Your explanations were very thorough and well done. I think we should make it a real thing for new members that might join us in the future. 

Kate: It’d be a shame if I was the only one who got to experience the tour. 

Liam: Then I’ll have to make some changes to the tour and add an introduction for you. 

Kate: How will you explain it? 

Liam: … I’ll say that Kate’s my personal Fairytale Keeper. 

Liam: She has an adorable smile, her words are kind, and she smells nice and makes me feel at ease whenever I hug her. 

Liam: She’s the little robin who makes me feel like life is worth living, by bringing me joy every day. 

Liam: — Kate is the love of my life. 

Our passionate gazes met, and our lips came together as though drawn to each other. We fell onto the bed holding each other in our arms. 

The agreement form I’d been so eager to fill in would have to wait till tomorrow afternoon to be submitted to Victor. 

…

Fairytale Keeper Continuation Agreement 

Here, Kate agrees to continue working as a Fairytale Keeper. 

Because I can’t imagine a future without her. 

— Liam Evans. 

…

Victor: Okie dokie, I’ve confirmed your submission. 

Liam: Thanks, Victor. Please pass on my regards to Her Majesty too. 

Victor: … Oh? Where are you rushing off to? 

Victor: I recently obtained some delicious tea and was about to prepare some…

Liam: Sorry, I’m heading off for another tour with Kate. 

Victor: Tour? I thought that was done already? 

Liam: Fufu… actually, Kate’s the one giving the tour this time to introduce my good qualities. 

Liam: She said “the one who least understands Liam’s strengths is Liam himself”. 

Victor: What a wonderful tour! You must tell me all about it afterwards. 

I gave Victor a nod and dashed off to our meeting spot. 

…

(I’m going to keep doing my best from now on… so that I can welcome my tomorrows with you and everyone else.) 

(So that the story we weave together won't be seen as a “tragedy” or “farewell tale”.)

(Until the very end… I pray that Kate and I will find happiness together.) 

…

<< Kate’s POV >>

A few days after the tour by Liam, I received a royal decree from Her Majesty.

Kate, I have heard of your excellent work. As always, I thank you for your efforts. 

Now, I have a task I wish to entrust to you, whom I know I can rely on.

I want you to assess if Liam, who bears a curse, is a suitable member of Crown. 

Note: Please take into account the cause and effect of his fits when making your decision. 

[everestgale]

I SLIDE U SMITTEN ACROSS THE FLOOR FOR THE CHARACTER ASK STUFF -OWL

SMITTEN OUR BELOVED...

[Send Me a Character and I'll List Ask Game]

favorite thing about them

Smitten is so full of love! And he is so open about his love! He loves the Princess no matter what she looks like, no matter what she does to you, how much hurt she inflicts on you. He will always love her! He is so passionate, so devoted to her, even to his own detriment-

Yes, my favorite thing about Smitten is how absolutely deranged and passionate he is. No, I am not sorry /lh

least favorite thing about them

This is less "least favorite thing about him" and more about disliking how some people misunderstand him as possessive and malicious in HEA. He is unhealthy and flawed, and he caused harm, absolutely, but he is not doing anything in HEA from the place of malice, and I will die on that hill <3

favorite line

"Oh, just you wait and see! My vengeance will echo the depths of my bereavement!"

brOTP

I really like the Grey Brothers (Skeptic + Smitten), I like the idea of them having a weird sibling-ish bond, but in a "distant sibling who you don't talk to much because you two are so different... but it's nice to chat and catch up sometimes, and you are still there for each other if you really need one another" kind of way.

OTP

Ironically, I don't actually ship Smitten all that much... who am I kidding, the answer is CheatedSmitten, and I really need to draw more of them when my wrist recovers, or I will EXPLODE-

(If you'd like a reason, a friend wrote a very nice description on how this ship would play out, and I've been rotating it in my head for a few weeks. Smitten, the kind of person to extend his heart wide open, but also to probably wonder if he will ever be enough after he disastrously failed with HEA... and Cheated, the guy who repeatedly failed over, and over, and over, and over, someone who would understand this feeling of not being enough- Okay, I gotta stop, otherwise it will take over this whole post)

nOTP

Definitely not a nOTP, it's just that out of popular Smitten ships, I have a very hard time imagining Smittunist (Smitten/Opportunist), and it's entirely because of how I designed and how I write both of them. In fact, I actually really like seeing how other people write and/or draw that ship!! So it's decisively a "me" and "my designs/interpretations" problem 💔

random headcanon

People-pleaser Smitten. You can see it throughout this entire post, I'm very deep in the "people-pleaser Smitten" headcanon mine, and I can't get out of it /lh

unpopular opinion

Once again, don't know how unpopular it is, but I think specifically in the Unknown Together ending, where Smitten knows that she left with the Long Quiet, while he would be sad for a while over the fact that the Princess is gone, he will eventually bounce back, accept the fact that she is happily with "the big guy" somewhere, wherever that might be, and then choose to extend his over-the-top loving self to other people (mainly, his fellow voices) <3

...this is specifically for the Unknown Together endings. If we're talking about A New and Unending Dawn... well, we get an entirely different Smitten.

song i associate with them

It's more of a mixed HEA + Smitten song, but there is no other song that I associate with Smitten more than this one, so "Predator" by The Crane Wives it is!

"What were you thinking? Shouldn't you know better? You took advantage of another anxious people pleaser"

I'm kind of obsessed with how these lines fit well as HEA singing about Smitten... but also as Smitten singing to the Long Quiet, or rather, you, the player, for choosing to stay in the cabin and create this "Happily Ever After" ending... only to be dissatisfied with it.

favorite picture of them

This is what happens when the character we're talking about is a disembodied voice who has no canon design. So! How about my favorite drawing of him, which is this illustration with the Damsel. Look at them! They are so happy :]

Ignore the fact that it's part of the illustration set and in the rest of the illustrations they are not so happy, that's not what the question was asking!

[shoochi]

i like never get tagged in anything, hiiiiiii.

Last Song: No Pants Dance - TWRP & Ninja Sex Party

Favorite Color: red and navy blue :3

Last Book: uhhh maybe Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. i don't really. read. Unless we're talking fanfic (and in that case - Midnight Ocean by Konigsberg on AO3)

Last Movie: Spaceballs! my local theater does event cinema where they do older movies with a themed menu. i would also like to mention at this time that if i had been tagged like 2 weeks ago the answer would have been Sonic 3 which i saw twice in 3 days with my partner.

Last TV Show: Sonic Prime. god what a show.

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: probably savory. i'm salts biggest fan and a huge umamihead.

Relationship Status: tehe. taken. if people flirt with me now i scream and run away.

Last Thing Googled: "tree etymology",, i heard it basically regular in a middle scots song cover and wanted to know about how the word evolved.

Looking Forward To: having time this semester to play Jedi: Survivor.

Current Obsession: im in the transition phase of liking two things at the same time too much. Sonic and Star Wars. I've made Shadow the Hedgehog patches if anyone wants one (/srs).

thank u for tagging me Jasper :3, in turn in tagging. no one. anyone who wants to do this i guess. i always feel so weird tagging people for some reason. love it when other people tag me tho :3

10 People I'd Like to Get to Know More

thank you for the tag @butcherlarry my beloved 💖

Last Song: TR/ST - The Stain

Favorite Color: pastel pink and blue

Last Book: The Snowman by Jo Nesbø and Les Eygletière by Henri Troyat

Last Movie: Monster (2003) with Charlize Theron. i didn’t like it :(

Last TV Show: my friend made me watch the Squid Game with her during the holidays. i found it surprisingly good

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: all of those but at different times of the day

Relationship Statue: single and it doesn’t look like it’s going to change lol

Last Thing Googled: pictures of a mountain lion to show to one of my primary school students

Looking Forward To: eating some kfc chicken at the weekend

Current Obsession: cherik and chocolate pralines

tagging but no pressure 💃

@rin-hanarin @apple-pretzelchan @inmymagnetoera @magnetoisnotahappybunny @mapofyourstars @retrobr @stinkrat-aleks @tony-buddenbrook @wishchip106

and anyone who wants ✨

[autisticandroids]

FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.

[youtube with closed captions]

dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.

(via @closetoyou1970)

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

don't feel like uploading it separately here so here's just the yt link lol

made a proper talkloid again after a million years for rin/len/iku's bday (even if a bit late but fuck it)

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! I have not crafted much the last day or two because I have family visiting the area soon and have been cleaning, but also because I have once again run into the "idiopathic tachycardia"* extra diagnosis instead of my usual POTS issues. I have no idea why, it kinda just happens sometimes? My next project is finishing off the big crochet fabric basket (adding handles), and then when my heartrate cooperates I'll finish the fisher price baby quilt for my newest baby cousin *I'm fine, I have weirdly totally regular heart rhythm even when having tachycardia, just tired and mostly Sitting Still. It's separate from POTS (according to my doc) because it's not postural? It also doesn't mess with my blood pressure like POTS does. I just happen to have both. Heart likes to go fast, what can I say lol

[lionblaze03-2]

sometimes I think about writing and singing music not because I’m an incredible singer but because no one has my fucking voice, especially in popular music, and its disheartening to be born a girl, told you’ll only get girl roles or try to voice match other girls, or ‘sing with the girls’ and then only be able to match male voices because you’re a fuckin tenor and not anything higher. I can’t think of any girl Broadway roles I can hit all the notes on. Most songs I love I have to pitch down for myself or use falsetto for singing along to. It bothers me a lot less now because I’m an adult who’s more secure in myself but as a teen in kids musical theatre it FUCKED with me, BAD style. And I know for a fact that even now when I hear people with a voice like mine singing I get excited and immediately invested in their work because they’re like ME, finally, for once. A brother in this world of being afab and having the voice of a recently pubescent boy forever. Maybe I should be that brother too.

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

i know that when carlo suddenly decided that he needs to marry guy made a whole list in his head n like had a deadlines n shit. like it was some kind of a task he needed to do

[ratstuckinamarble]

Oh you have picked the german pop song suffering experience, it is infamous... Ten years have passed. Not once have I listened to that song by choice. And yet... I still know too many of the lyrics. They've eaten grooves into my brain I can't get rid of.

Oh but the christmas carols, my parents whipped those out every year. Stiiille Nacht, heeeilige Nacht, alles schläft, einsam wacht, irgendwas was viel zu hell gesungen wurde und ich deshalb nie verstehen konnteee~ Then we all decided we don't actually like the specific recording we had and just watched the muppet christmas carol and a nightmare before christmas instead.

Also I just listened to Das Tier in Mir, it slaps! Couldn't help but notice how it's about werewolves though... But that makes sense, considering. You know.

you'll never guess who's headbanging to Atemlos durch die Nacht (München 2022) while sorting and cleaning cranberries >:D

Ahh Nooo Betrayyyal-

The song is actually fine if you ask me, but headbanging to it? I mean it's Schlager. What possessed you??

I wouldn't mind it so much if it was just a random song, but it was everywhere when it came out. If you were in Germany at the time, you didn't simply listen to Atemlos durch die Nacht, Atemlos durch die Nacht made you listen to it, wether you liked it or not (I did not).

No escape... It's still haunting me...