#i am scared to even post the preview that just shows their faces

[joz-yyh]

DDMonth ▪️ Day 4: Cure 🌟 Tumblr keeps flagging my ddmonth post when it's literally censored and hidden under a 'read more' so head on over to my twitter for the: ✨ Uncensored Version -> Here!! ✨ Censored Version -> Here!! (Hellion x Vestal)

[magnorious]

Review: We Visit the Garden Gnome Emporium

TL;DR: Where the heck was this writing and directing in the premier? It's fantastic.

---

I admit, I was harsh on the premier. I stand by my opinion that Disney, with its endless Disney Money, should have strived to make a show that's amazing from the opening scene, not just get along by brand recognition. I nitpicked the inconsistences and there's still plenty here. With the lack of real combat scenes so far (the Fury fight in the museum, the hellhound at the creek, even the bus explosion) I'm wondering if the producers were too afraid of scaring children (in adapting a children's book) to really go for it. The rush this time at least had a creative re-write. All that said, episode three feels like it was produced, written, and directed by a completely different team. The acting is better, the pacing is better, the strange editing choices are fewer in between. The music is more memorable, the castings for new faces fit better, the tone is darker where it needs to be, the characters (minus Annabeth) feel so much more like themselves.

Is it completely faithful to the book? No. But as I said for the premier, changing how the source material happened isn't bad if the changes improve upon the existing story, or get to the same point if in a slightly different way. The encounter with Medusa is, book-to-screen, line-by-line, very different. But the vibe is the same. She's still creepy and threatening and a hell of an interesting perspective for Percy and Annabeth to face, being who they are, and she drops major hints on the entire theme of the book series: The gods' neglect and how many problems it causes. Her costume is different but it works. Her dialogue is longer, but it works. The Fury being there at all forces them underground and remain within Medusa's reach. I still also stand by that I wish this show had been animated a la Arcane or Spiderverse, but episode three proved the world over that this team is dedicated to telling the story, even if it mucks up a few plot beats along the way. **Minor spoiler** Percy's indignant "I am impertient" was perfect. 10/10.

It doesn't feel like it did in the premier, where the team certainly read the book, but didn't understand why some details were important to get correct. This feels like they really did their homework this time and I sincerely hope the rest of the series keeps going up from here. Side note: Costume department! I see you. I see you there dressing Percy in shades of blue and green when he's not in his camp t-shirt. I noticed. I see the 40s vibe you went with for Medusa. It mostly makes up for the Oracle looking more underfed than mummified corpse, but, you know, you win some and you lose some.

Side side note: The post-credits preview music sounds uncannily like the Avengers theme.

[anyasmcm]

December 5th - 11th research

Observational research:

Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (DHMIS) Red Guy:

Red Guy from DHMIS is a character whose face is concealed by his red, stringy face. In his character, his inability to show facial expressions manifests itself in his skeptical and detached outlook on life. He expresses himself through gestures and tone of speaking, which is typically monotonous. Even when he finds himself in dangerous situations, he remains indifferent. It's unclear whether his behavior comes from being unable to express himself in a similar way to his friends, Yellow Guy and Duck Guy.

Red guy is such a unique character to me because his expression and appearance are devoid of personality. This is not what I want to do with my piece, but I instead want to conceal and present personality in my work. I want my appearance to represent aspects of me. However, he's a great model for how someone appears or presents themself when they only have gestures and tone to rely on.

Atlas to the Heart by Brene Brown:

I read a little bit of the Google Books preview of Brene Brown's book, and her writing on the feelings of being stressed and overwhelmed was really interesting. I liked her comparison to anxiety as "being in the grass" and overwhelmed as "blown".

It made me think about the space we provide for space in conversation and the indicators that we use to communicate we need that space. Some people get quiet when they need space, others lash out to push people out of that space, and others just avoid communicating to maintain their space. I feel like the easy part is getting that space, but it is so difficult to communicate that you need someone to enter your space to help you out, such as "being in the grass".

This led me to think about a video I watched from Khadija Mbowe on finding a definition for love. They define love as "a space of mutual creation where the desire is to nurture the spiritual journey of everyone in said space". I think in communication and life in general, we often struggle to find that space and nurture that space continuously. However, I think its so difficult to attach a definition to love, even Khadija's definition doesn't cover it entirely. I think their definition is great for platonic and familial love, but when it comes to romantic love it is an entirely different thing.

“Love is never any better than the lover. Wicked people love wickedly, violent people love violently, weak people love weakly, stupid people love stupidly, but the love of a free man is never safe. There is no gift for the beloved. The lover alone possesses his gift of love. The loved one is shorn, neutralized, frozen in the glare of the lover’s inward eye.” - Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye

So in relation to Brown and Khadija, how we communicate and create that space for ourselves is so reliant on communication. Something I struggle with a lot is how to properly communicate, especially in relation to love. I also watched this video on love without attachment, which made me think about how certain behaviors we do when we are in love are manipulative and self-centered, rather than working on nurturing the space for that relationship, like Khadija says.

This wasn't really anything that led me to have any identifiable lightbulbs in relation to my work so far, but I'm just kinda brewing on all of this at the moment.

Active research:

I decided to put myself out there and branch some of the research I have been doing in Capstone into one of my other classes. I am taking Images of Science in Literature with Professor Dayal, and for my final project I am going to make a 3-4 min mockumentary about communication. The project is due on the 14th and I am doing filming Monday (Dec. 11th) evening, so I do not have the finished product yet. However, I do have a rough plan for the inner workings of the project, which I will post below. This doesn't mean that I haven't been working or thinking about things specifically for this class, but I figured that this would be a great chance to experiment with my work in a setting that forces me to establish a new form of communication alongside having to perform in front of people/share my work with people. I will post the finished mockumentary on my Tumblr (unless the file is too large) when I complete it.

Establishing How I Will Communicate The plan: People: 2 - Me, Anya, and my neighbor Sam. (Possibly a 3rd person to help with filming) Goal: Sam will attempt to understand what I am trying to communicate with him without having any prior knowledge of how I will communicate to him. If Sam fails to understand what I’m communicating, it’s not a matter of restarting or re-scripting, the goal is to have this remain as genuine and true as possible. IT WILL BE AWKWARD! Layout: There will be 3 separate parts to this mockumentary. 1: The interaction - Shot first

These shots will be exclusively Sam interacting with me and attempting to understand what I am saying. 2: My Interview - shot 2nd

These shots will fill in between the interaction shots and give some insight onto my character (or none at all) 3: Sam’s interview - shot 3rd

These shots will fill in between the interaction shots and give some insight on Sam’s experience with the creature. These shots will try to be as genuine as possible with limited scripting. The goal of this layout is to ensure there are mockumentary elements in the film, but also that there is some insight provided on Sam’s end so he can share what he is experiencing. Editing: I haven’t thought much about the editing, but I’d like to watch some of What We Do in the Shadows for inspiration on mockumentary style filming. I may need a 3rd person to help with the filming, in which case it’ll probably be a VA&T peer so there can be close-ups and things like that. I can also edit close-ups in After Effects, but I think there is something about having a physical person behind the camera to do close-ups that makes it feel more ‘mockumentary-like’.

Costume: Ghillie Suit and Dunks Unpacking the background of each: Ghillie suit: used to blend in with the environment – my suit is green and brown so it is used in forests and leafy/grassy regions. Concealing is a huge part of it – staying hidden. Dunks: basketball shoes turned into skateboarding shoes. 1985 marketing: “Be True To Your School” – dunks were made to rep schools/school colors. Became a staple in skateboarding after the dunk was neglected and was affordable and cheap for skaters. SHOWS THE ADAPTABILITY OF THE SHOE AND ITS ACCESSIBILITY. Bottles: Bottles are merely things that hold something which humans want to consume. It is for this reason that they are discarded after their contents are consumed. They also can litter the street and be found all over the city in highly populated areas. Bottles also have attached meaning, through things like the Health Warning Statement on drinks containing alcohol or caffeine content. They also have attached meaning through advertisements, specifically Coke and Sprite. Both drinks are extremely present during the holidays, such as the LeBron “Wanna Sprite Cranberry?” meme and the iconic Coke polar bear during the holidays. While that meaning may not be consciously aware to us, who typically focus on the contents of the beverage rather than the surrounding meaning, the way they are advertised or consumed creates that meaning. If someone sees a Coke ad with smiling, happy families, they could deduce that Coke makes you happy and gives you a sense of belonging (which isn’t the case). If someone sees someone sitting on the sidewalk with a bottle of alcohol in their hands, they can deduce that alcohol makes you sleepy, depressed, isolated, or some other assumption.

Background: The creature I will be acting as originates from a culture of concealing itself in a very specific environment, but its recently acquired dunks represent its desire to adapt, change, and absorb the culture surrounding it. Essentially, the creature sticks out like a sore thumb in an urban environment, but its incorporation of dunks into its attire shows a desire to be part of the environment it finds itself in and also to understand what that represents in its environment. The creature typically moves by crawling on the ground, but also making quick movements from one place to another, to conceal itself from others. However, after entering the environment it finds itself in, the creature understands that the urban jungle is not a place it can conceal itself among foliage. The creature walks curiously, but also cautiously, as it navigates this environment. The creature uses popular culture as its main device for communication. Its experiences in the city have led it to view bottles, which it can find on the street or in the trash, as its main communication device. After consuming human culture, it perceives the advertisements and appearances of these beverages as a way in which it can express its emotions or what it is feeling.

Gestures/Expressions: I want to establish base gestures that the creature uses to communicate. These gestures originate not from a historical or cultural context, but rather my understanding and creation of this creature. If there are similarities found between the gestures/expressions and those of other cultures or human culture, it is not intentional. That’s not to say that these gestures and expressions that I create are devoid of human influence, since I myself am a human. I just want to express that they are derived from my understanding of this creature I have created. The creature is struggling to learn how it can adapt itself to fit within an urban environment. A lot of the communication it used in its environment at home is now out-of-place in an urban setting. Therefore, when the creature tries to communicate, it has to assume the position it would while in its home environment, since it has not found a way to communicate in an urban environment. That’s not to say the creature is not adaptable, but it does not have the context to create new language in a foreign environment. The list below of gestures was generated using ChatGPT. I wanted to ask what basic forms of expression I can use to cohesively communicate with another person. I used the framework of the expressions it gave, such as a greeting or a farewell, but I want to avoid using the gestures it recommends since they are based on human-expression rather than a different species. Here is the convo: https://chat.openai.com/share/6de156d2-42d9-426a-ae92-158f445707e0 I will say that by using human expressions as a framework for creating these gestures, I am embracing human interaction and not creating an entirely individual and separate form of communication. I also am limiting the creature to this framework of communication, which means the creature itself may appear unintelligent, or limited in its ability to communicate. The intent is not to limit its intelligence or create a lens of being ‘lesser’, but rather to display the creature’s struggle to enter and conform to this new environment it finds itself in.

Gesture 1: Greeting [Coke bottle] Gesture 2: Farewell [Not sure] Gesture 3: Expressing Gratitude [Wine bottle?] Gesture 4: Showing agreement [Water bottle] Gesture 5: Disagreement or negotiation [Pepsi bottle] Gesture 6: Confusion [Squished soda can] Gesture 7: Approval or appreciation [Hennessy bottle???] Gesture 8: Disapproval or dislike [full soda bottle] Gesture 9: Requesting attention [Energy drink?] Gesture 10: Expressing sadness or empathy [Blue Moon bottle wrapped in paper bag]

[bts-reveries]

the most beautiful moment in life | epilogue

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life.

We all knew that to get to the pretty parts of life, you’d have to get ugly first. 

Hey, no pain no gain right? 

Well I hope you liked our most beautiful moment in life. Thank you for going through the good, the bad, and the ugly. For running after Hana with Yoongi when she saw the grand opening of 24/7 Heaven. For walking with Huimang to Hobi’s door. For riding the train to Ilsan with Byul to meet Namjoon. For being with Jimin when he was scared and alone with Mingyu. For being with Taehyung when he finally met the one. For being with Jungkook and Rina when they got engaged. And for being with Jin and Mae when their perfect life wasn’t so perfect after all. 

It was happy, it was sad, sometimes it made us mad… but I mean, that’s what we have to go through sometimes right? Not only does it make the story more interesting, haha, but it happens in real life. As cheesy as it sounds, rainbows come after the rain.  

We started off happy, then went to parts that made us sad or angry.

That’s just what you go through to be happy sometimes.

The boys, the girls, the kids, they all fell apart at one point, only to reach their happy ending.

So hey

If you ever feel like you’re falling apart, maybe you’re just falling into place.

Maybe

Just maybe

You’re about to reach the most beautiful moment of your life.

Because right now, in real life, away from this one, we are all going through the same thing.

Yeah, the pandemic.

I know we don’t all live the same exact lives, but we all had it rough this past (almost) two years.

We might’ve lost a job, a loved one, connection with friends, got sick, got depressed, felt scared, and so much more. Because I have. Not every single one of those in that list, but most of them. 

If you were here since daddy duties, that was the start of the pandemic. I believe the lockdown in my country happened when I was posting the intro for that. How crazy?!

For most of us, this AU has been a little escape. A world without covid as someone once said. Actually, a lot of you have told me that reading this AU and receiving notifications for updates etc. are what makes your day. Which means so much to me of course!

“Hey Miya.”

I look up from my laptop to see Jin standing there in front of my desk here at work. 

“Hey Jin, do you need anything?” I ask, closing my laptop. I always brought my personal laptop to work for whenever it gets quiet. Being a receptionist here at Moon Studios is pretty fun, but of course, it does get boring sometimes. 

“No, no, I’m good. I actually am about to head home, but Yeonjun is still here,” Jin tells me. He has a smile on his face. “You two should go out, isn’t your shift over in a few?”

“Uh.. yeah it is,” I say, letting out a shy laugh. “Sure, um. I’ll just finish this up and I can go and meet him.” Jin nods.

“Okay, I’ll text him to come down soon. See you again tomorrow,” he says, walking away.

“See ya!”

Okay, anywho.

This was fun. A lot of us have a special connection with these characters and don’t want to see them go. Some want to see Rina and JK get married, I mean, we have all been anticipating it since the beginning right? Some want Sarang and Hobi to finally have a baby. And some just want to see the kids grow up. 

Because, well… 

Life Goes On

!note to readers!

This is in the span of a few years, not everyone’s first pic, second pic, etc. is on the same timeline (does that make sense?)

The instagram post shows a preview of their lives after the most beautiful moment in life. No, they did not all get engaged around the same exact time, nor did they all get married the same time/year, and had kids at the same time lol. It just shows that after the most beautiful moment in life they went on with their lives and got engaged, got married, had kids etc.

It could be the same year or different years. (ex. Rina and JK could of gotten married the same year Sohyun and Yoongi got engaged and around that time, Sarang and Hobi got pregnant.)

No years or dates were specified in this epilogue.

Also, the OCs instagram profiles are in the order of the AU’s release, not the dates of when the events of their lives happened!

☻☻☻☻☻☻☻

the most beautiful moment in life 

☻ epilogue ☻

pairings: BTS x OCs (yoongi x sohyun, hoseok x sarang, namjoon x byul, jimin x yuna, taehyung x bora, jungkook x rina, seokjin x mae)

a/n: now this wraps it up! i felt like i said everything i needed to say already up there. but here’s a bit more. this au is so so so dear to my heart. never have i ever thought it would make it this far. nor did i ever think that i would have this many people reading it! i have made so many friends from this series. you all have a special place in my heart! thank you to everyone who followed along since the very beginning, and even the ones whom just found out about us in the last member’s au. i didn’t think i’d be so attached to these characters, so just like a lot of you.. i want a part two. so with that being said, the most beautiful moment in life goes on. let this be a “part two” to the series, although it will be completely different in terms of format (???) i’ll have an official post on it later this week! until then, this isn’t good bye :)

taglist: @ramyagovindraj​ @sope-and-shine​ @jayhope88​ @casspirit0705​ @mygooie0 @fan-ati--c​ @spacxmann​ @princessjazzyjazz​ @sugaaddiction​ @ephyra1230​ @starlitemotions​ @alittlestudycorner​ @justinetingball​ @somewhereofftheglobe​ @ygbubs​ @salty-for-suga​ @momma-said-that-it-was-oke​ @mikrokosmicjoon​ @taekookcaneatme​ @betysotelo18​ [photos found via instagram and pinterest (mostly pinterest, so most of the pictures are unknown) here are the baby’s instagram:

jin: wooju_mom

namjoon: 2ah.in

yoongi: kimibbong1317

hoseok: nayun_mom

jimin: p_aiou

taehyung: no instagram, found on pinterest (jhanuul)

jungkook: tokki.daram]

[writing-by-gayrainbowbridge]

President's Prisoner

Related work to President's Pet!

This is set during the time Loki was tortured and used by President Loki to make him the perfect obedient Pet. I highly doubt much of this is going to be consensual. Just a whole lotta Loki whump and sadistic President Loki. Please keep that in mind while reading! Thank you!

❌Please do NOT click on fanart link under the cut if you’re a minor or don’t want to see some very messed up stuff (that being said, if you can't handle messed up stuff, best you not read the fic either)❌

⚠️Warnings Because I Feel Like This Fic Deserves Some Warnings So Here It Is: Blood, Choking, Imprisonment, Lokicest, Mentioned Past Rape/Non-Con, Strong Violence, Etc.⚠️

Enjoy 💚💚

🚫 IF THIS IS NOT FOR YOU, I ADVICE NOT TO READ! SIMPLE AS THAT! THANK YOU! 🚫

(Please Check The Pinned Post On My Tumblr Page To See If There Are More Parts To This Story)

Specifically Written Because Of This Gorgeous Fanart Made By murdermuffinloki:

Loki was screaming. Not in pain, not in sadness but in absolute rage.

He had been thrown into a dark room bare of anything, not even a window. He couldn't see three steps in front of him and he was beyond livid. How dare he be imprisoned like this!

He shouldn't truly be so mad to be imprisoned as he had been imprisoned before, more times than he could count really and he wouldn't have been if he hadn't been so violated and used beforehand by some sick Variant of himself.

Loki had tried and failed to use his magic to blast the locked door off its hinges only to find his powers had abandoned him which he could admit if only to himself, made him very scared. His magic was one of his most important weapons and now it was just...gone.

It made Loki all the more angrier. He had been used and violated and now after all that, he was trapped in a locked room without his magic to defend himself.

Eventually, Loki came to the conclusion that he was going to have to wait and see exactly what it was this Variant wanted from him. Though what he wanted he had already taken it seemed.

Loki sat on the far wall, glaring at the locked door across the room as he shivered in the dark since the Variant hadn't bothered giving back his clothes after violating him.

Tears threatened to rise up that he stubbornly ignored, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tried to simply breathe.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because he woke to the sound of the cell door opening. Loki blinked his eyes open, looking up at the Variant, and mustered up an impressive glare.

President Loki only smirked as if amused by Loki's little show of control. Control they both knew he didn't have. "Enjoying your little nap?"

Loki gritted his teeth as he pushed himself to his feet, taking up a defensive stance. "What did you do to my seiðr?"

President Loki grinned sharply. "Well, I couldn't simply let you keep it when you insist on being so disobedient. Naughty Pet's don't get to have their toys to play with."

Loki internally seethed, glaring daggers at the other god. "I am not a Pet."

President Loki's smirk widened to show his perfectly white teeth. "No, you're not a Pet. Not at all."

Loki didn't even see him move until President Loki had him pressed hard against the wall, hands pinned above his head with only one of President Loki's hands wrapped tight around his wrists, squeezing hard enough to make the bones grind together.

President Loki gripped Loki's chin, forcing the disadvantaged god to look at him in the eyes. "You're my Pet. Mine and only mine."

Loki growled low in his throat, a dangerous noise that would usually make anyone else think twice about touching him. But President Loki didn't seem to notice or simply didn't care. "Let me go."

President Loki tilted his head to the side, an amused smile on his face. "Is adorable that you believe you can command me."

Loki tried tugging his head away but President Loki had a grip of steel. "Then you should know I will refuse to listen to what you tell me to do. I will not be your...your slave."

"Oh, I have no intention of making you my slave," President Loki told him with a disarming smile. "No, you're simply...entertainment. You wouldn't believe how boring it can be at the end of time. All Loki's here are the same but you...you are different."

Loki twisted his wrists, hoping to break the grip on them but it was just as tight as the one on his chin. "I don't care if I'm different. I demand you release me!"

"You'll learn your place soon enough," President Loki murmured, ignoring Loki as he gripped his chin tighter so much that Loki knew there would be bruises there later. "But until then, you'll stay here, until you learn where your place is."

"And where exactly would my place be?" Loki asked, venom dripping from every syllable.

President Loki's eyes darkened, his grip on Loki's chin easing up on the pressure, instead running down to Loki's neck, wrapping around it and squeezing tight. "At my feet."

Loki choked as he tried to draw air into his lungs but the Variant's grip was too tight and Loki's hands were still pinned, unable to use them to pull the hand away from his throat.

"Soon enough, I'll have you kneeling at my feet like a good, obedient Pet should," President Loki told him, his tone making it sound like a promise, making Loki shudder. "And you'll enjoy it."

Loki coughed when President Loki's hand released his throat, sucking much needed air back into his lungs. His voice was rough when he spoke. "I'll n-never kneel to y-you again. I will never want to kneel to y-you. Not ever."

President Loki's smile was cold and cruel. "We'll see, Darling."

Loki didn't see the dagger in President Loki's free hand until it was driven through both of his own, ripping through flesh like it was paper and pinning them to the wall.

And this time, Loki was screaming in pain. It tore from his throat, his brain only just able to process the agonizing pain that spiked from his hands and all the way down his wrists and arms to his shoulders. It made him wish he couldn't feel anything. He wished he could go numb.

President Loki released Loki's wrists as blood dripped down them, staining the wall Loki was now pinned again in red.

"Stay."

Tears streaked Loki's cheeks as President Loki turned away dismissively as if Loki was no longer worth his attention and walked to the door, leaving the room but not before throwing one last smirk over his shoulder.

Then the door shut and Loki was plunged back into darkness.

He sobbed pitifully in the dark, blood making the blade of the dagger pinning Loki's hands glitter a deep red that looked nearly black.

...

@murdermuffinloki I saw the fanart of a knife going through Loki's hands to keep them pinned to the wall and I got inspired to write some dark stuff 👀 Just a mini series off of President's Pet. For those who haven't yet, you should read the first chapter of that one because this takes place right after that 😘 The chapters (yes, there will be more than one) will probably vary in length so...yeah 😅 Hope you enjoy anyway 💕

[juletheghoul]

Hey sweetie, hope you're doing well. Better than me I hope, in this Texas heat!!!😥🤤 When your muse permits, may I please have some more Dave York? I am a shameless slut for that suburban murder Dilf!!!

Hello lovely!

Okay - so I've written more for the soft!Dave fic I gave a preview for in this post and here and this picks up where that left off.

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader (soft!dave)

Smut under the cut (18+ NO MINORS semi-public touching, p in v sex, oral-female receiving) (word count 2.6k)

All in all it had gone better than he thought. He enjoyed your company - he found you attractive and you liked him. That was all he needed. The fact that you made him laugh had been a bonus. You were his new mission and it wouldn’t have mattered what you were like in all honesty but this was good. This he could work with.

He hadn’t meant to kiss you like that, he planned to take it a little slower, just a little peck to show you he was interested. He definitely didn’t expect you to open up for him like that, and he definitely didn’t expect to enjoy it so much. Another bonus.

He didn’t want to scare you away by reaching out too quickly, figuring a couple of days should be time enough. He wanted to make sure this worked out. He expected the same game of cat and mouse men and women have been playing with each other forever. He had waited to message you - which meant he would probably hear from you in a few hours.

-Hi - It’s Dave from the other night, wondering if you wanted to grab dinner on Friday?

He was doing some reconnaissance for an upcoming job and he wanted to read through his reports; he wasn’t expecting you to respond so quickly. Frankly, it was refreshing.

-Hey! Yes I’d love to, really happy to hear from you =)

He smiled despite himself, he didn’t expect you to be so open and honest.

-I’m glad to hear, I had a great time

He could see you typing your response before he put his phone down so he waited.

-Me too, thought maybe I’d scared you away - usually don’t make out on the first date

-Me either - glad we did though, you definitely did not scare me away. Just at work right now. Maybe we could talk more later?

-Sure! Hope you have a great day =)

-You too!

----

He kept up the communication with you when he got home, answering your messages as he cooked himself a small dinner. He asked you all the questions people usually ask when getting to know someone, he flirted the best he could. He was doing everything in his power to make sure you were interested, without being vulgar. He briefly considered whether this was manipulation, presenting himself in a way he knew you’d respond to in order to secure a relationship. In a sense everyone did this, the difference was they liked the people they were chasing.

He didn't not like you, he just didn’t really like anyone. It all came from his training and subsequently, his job. He learned long ago to not hold onto anyone too close, it hurt more when you lost them.

This was good though, he was content.

----

You couldn’t lie to yourself about how excited you were when Friday came around. He was consistent which was really important to you, he kept up with the messages and asked you actual questions and he seemed interested. It had been so long since you’d dated someone, since you felt excited about someone and seeing his messages gave you butterflies.

You had to stop yourself from running to the door when he knocked; you did your absolute best to reign in your heartbeat as you opened the door.

“Hi - hope I’m not too early.” He smiled - giving you a not so subtle onceover which made you momentarily self-conscious of your outfit choice; he must have taken notice of your expression.

“You look beautiful, are you ready to go?”

“Thank you - you look really handsome - Yes I’m ready.” You smiled as you grabbed your purse and locked your door.

You didn’t think this date could have gone better than the first but it did. He was charming, he was sweet and most importantly he made you laugh. His sense of humour was a lot like yours, dry and witty although you knew you could be a bit goofier than him. You didn’t want to get your hopes up too high but you really liked his company and although it was still early, you could see this getting more serious.

When he walked you to your front door you didn’t play coy.

“I hope you don’t think less of me, but I really want you to kiss me.” You moved closer - peering up at him through your lashes, hoping that you looked sexy.

“I hope you don’t think less of me, but I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.” He was smirking at you and you felt yourself flush. His hand almost engulfed your face as he pulled you in closer.

The kiss was searing; his tongue licked the seam of your mouth - asking for permission which you gladly gave. He deepened it further, pressing you up against your front door- his hands moving from your face to your waist. He slanted his mouth to get deeper, to make you ache. Your hands found themselves in his hair, holding him closely while you pressed your body as close to him as you could. It went on longer than it had any right to.

When he pulled away you were both panting.

“I had a really great time, goodnight.” He kissed you softer then and waited for you to make your way inside. Any longer and you would have pulled him into the house with you by his belt. You were happy he made the decision for you.

----

You had a few more dates and they were going better than you had imagined. He had come over for dinner one night, which ended in a very heavy makeout session on your couch before he went home. He was being really respectful which you appreciated, you really liked him and in the back of your mind you were nervous that he’d lose interest as soon as you gave it up. It was frustrating, because you were reaching your limit.

----

You walked through the parking lot with him hand in hand, on your way into the theatre. He had let you pick the movie - horror of course - and you were excited to cuddle up with him. You had a plan tonight and it sent a hot spike of arousal through your belly.

He didn’t let you pay for anything usually but you insisted he at least let you pay for the snacks, it didn’t seem like he would let you but you gave him a pout and he relented. Smiling good naturedly and grumbling about not making that pout a habit.

You lifted the seat divider as soon as you picked out your seats, making your intentions of getting close quite clear. He seemed to have the same idea; bringing his arm around you and firmly tucking you into his side.

He smells so good you thought to yourself as you leaned into the crook of his neck, barely paying attention to the trailers. His palm rubbed at your arm through the soft material of your sundress as the movie started, the both of you getting lost in it briefly. When it got too gruesome or scary you tucked your face into his neck, bringing your hands up to block out the screen.

You felt him chuckle then, his low velvety voice whispering in your ear.

“We can leave if you don’t want to watch this.” He said it without judgement, caring only for your comfort even though this could have been an excuse for him to have you close. It hardened your resolve.

“No, I want to stay, but I think I'd like it better if you distracted me.” You gave him a mischievous smile, hoping he’d take the hint. Thankfully - he did.

He tipped your chin up and kissed you softly at first, but deeper as time went on. This was going to work, you could feel his desire for you in it. You were afraid he’d be scandalized at what you wanted him to do but you couldn’t wait anymore. You tentatively reached for the arm around your shoulder and brought down to grab your breast. He pulled away suddenly and it made you nervous - maybe he wasn’t into this.

“Here?” He wasn’t scandalized, he was wearing a smirk - seemingly enjoying the thought of it, feeling you up in the movie theatre like a teenager.

“Do you want to? It’s okay if you don’t.” he could see your self-doubt written across your face.

“Only if you promise to be quiet for me.” He whispered it into your ear and you almost let out a moan. He kissed you again and this time you felt his hand dip into the breezy neckline of your dress, surprising you even further by reaching into your bra. He held you close, moving his kisses to your jaw, your pulse point - rolling your nipple between his fingers by the time he reached your ear.

You were breathing a little heavy as he pulled at it slightly, anyone could have looked over and seen the two of you but it didn’t matter - not when it felt so good.

“Is this what you wanted? Does it feel good, baby?” He spoke in a low voice as he bit your ear and you could feel the arousal leaking out of you. He pinched at the other through the fabric as he kissed you again and it was too much, you grabbed at his thigh, breathing out a god yes as he continued his ministrations.

“I wish I could lick them right now, bite them a little bit, would you let me?” He was pulling at the collar of your dress slightly, enough for him to see into your dress a little.

“Right now? What if someone sees?” You were asking even though the thought of his mouth on your tits in the middle of a movie theatre almost made you cum in itself.

“I would be really careful, just a little lick.” He kissed your neck as he spoke and you realized then that you would have let him do whatever he wanted.

“Okay - fast though.” You laughed conspiratorially - you felt reckless and wild, and excited to have him touch you this way. He pulled you close to him, turning in his seat slightly and quickly pulled your dress down along with the cup of your bra. Seeing your breast out while there were -admittedly- very few people in the movie theatre caused your heart to race. He kept his word though, quickly lowering his head to lick your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue around it had you biting your lip to keep your mouth shut. He couldn’t just have one though, pulling down the other cup to lavish the other one with the same attention and then quickly adjusting it so you were decent again.

You didn’t think you could make it through this movie with how your body was responding to him. Your panties were sticking to your body, your slick running freely and his words only served to amp up the arousal.

“Look what you did to me.” He brought your hand to the sizeable bulge in his jeans. You gasped slightly at the size, and suddenly you didn’t want to be in the theatre any more.

“Take me home David, now.” Your tone was iron and he didn’t argue; hastily pulling you up out of your seat in his haste to obey. The grip he had on your waist as he walked through the theatre and through the parking lot made you laugh with nervous excitement. You saw that he had an intensity about him that had you clenching painfully around nothing.

When you arrived at your place you practically ran inside; you had barely managed to close your door when he picked you up. Your arms and legs wrapped around him tightly as he held onto your ass. He walked you towards your room, pausing briefly to push you up against the wall in the hallway, halfway up the stairs, your bedroom door. Finally dropping you onto your bed.

He fell onto you and ground his hips against the soft fabric at your core. He was so thick, the pressure of him grinding into you was just right and you pulled at his shirt - wanting to feel his skin against you and when he took over you sat up to pull your dress off. He had your bra off faster than you thought possible.

“So pretty.” He dove in, sucking and biting at your nipples - drawing out whimpers and moans as you held his head close to your chest. You could see his saliva glistening on the soft skin of your tits when he alternated from one to the other and you couldn’t hold off any more.

“Please fuck me.” You pulled his face up from your chest to breathe the words into his mouth, the coil in your belly was already wound tight and he hadn’t even gone near your pussy yet.

“I didn’t bring a condom.” He looked a bit sheepish now, hoping against hope you’d have one.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean - but we can do other things if you aren’t comfortable.” You stroked his face softly, trying to convey that you wanted him either way. He hastily got up and took the rest of his clothes off while you shimmied out of your underwear. His cock bobbed out when he finally shed his layers, the tip of it weeping slightly - making your mouth water. He was bigger than your last sexual partner and though intimidated slightly, you were excited.

He crawled towards you as you watched him, settling his face between your thighs.

“You liked it when I licked your nipples baby? Look how wet and glossy you are.” He licked a strip from your fluttering entrance to your clit; he parted you with his tongue and focused on your clit, letting his saliva drip down to make you wetter. The steady glide of his tongue drove you into a frenzy. You barely registered your hands grabbing his hair, using him to grind yourself against his tongue. You were not going to last, you could feel yourself careening over the edge. The wave of it quickly racing up to crash over you. When he slowly slid two thick fingers into your cunt and curled them just so, the wave crested. Your body seizing up with the force of your climax.

“You taste so good baby.” He kissed your mound, the dip in your hip; he slowly made his way up the soft skin of your belly, pausing to give each nipple a quick lick before he settled between your legs. You felt the heavy weight of him sliding through your folds, the blunt tip of him nudging at your clit making you wince with overstimulation before he gradually fed himself into you.

He wrapped your legs high on his waist and rocked into you at a steady pace, you could see from his ragged breathing he was trying not to jack hammer into your wet heat, he was trying to make himself last.

The stretch of him was delicious, you felt full and his cock was hitting something that made you fall silent; made your eyes clench shut against his neck. You could tell he was getting close when he crushed you underneath him, resting almost all of his weight on top of you while he snapped his hips forward harder and harder. The sound of your joining a wet slap as he moaned in your ear - whispering about how good your pussy felt, how tight and wet it was, how he was going to cum- but not before he felt you cum first. He reached between you to rub little circles onto your clit, begging you to cum around him.

You obeyed, and he didn’t hold out much longer.

------------

Tagging a few people I think might enjoy:

@foli-vora @ezrasbirdie @quica-quica-quica @beskarboobs @wheresarizona @absurdthirst

[bvccy]

Nothing to Despair | Preview 2 / Work In Progress

PAIRING: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before are asked, because of their language skills, to go undercover as married on a two-week mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, and notices his partner feels similarly isolated. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily persuaded.

WARNINGS: Just nightmares and hurt/comfort, MORE ANGST

WORD COUNT: 2K

A/N: It's been 84 years and the fic is still not done, so have another preview. I didn't wanna post more, and this is a rough version, but then N I G H T M A R E S happened and NEW GIFS I was just bouncing to contribute so here, have this. Ironically, it's not Bucky having the nightmare in my fic, it's the reader/MC having one and being comforted by him, but still gonna take advantage of this lovely gif <3

She was running aimlessly away, but he was always behind her. She could hear him catching up, and if she turned her head she could see him coming closer, and his angry heaving breath was almost right behind her, and then she woke up.

Laying in bed frozen stiff with fear, her eyes took in the darkness of — oh, her hotel room at the Grand Continental in Cer. She stood up in bed and looked around: safe, quiet, and if she tried to remember her dream she already couldn't. She picked up her phone on the bedside table, fiddling with the Stark tech to see the time: 3:36 AM.

The fear was so intense she thought she would die if she didn't hold another person, right now. She had never felt anything like this in her life: not when falling out of a tree, not when flying, not when she got the mission from Steve, not when Bucky cornered her…

Bucky. He was sleeping in the other room. If she could just — No. He would either laugh at her for being silly or resent her for waking him up. She could almost hear him now: "You woke me up, for this? Take it like a big girl and go back to bed."

But there's never been a fear like this… in her blood and her bones, and her mind and underneath it. Through the silence of the room, she could hear her own heart thrumming, and though she knew it was impossible, a part of her mind was certain there was someone there with her, waiting, ready to —

It took three minutes of hugging herself in bed and trying, uselessly, to not be scared to absolute death before her heart won over her head and she stepped lightly to Bucky's room. She didn't even knock, she scratched at the door lightly. If he was awake, he'd hear it; if he wasn't, she won't wake him up.

No response. When she turned the handle slowly and inched the door open enough to poke her head through, only then did Bucky stir in bed. She could just make out the shape of him through the light from the window.

As he groaned sleepily and shifted in his sheets to get up, she wasn't sure if he was upset with her or not, and it didn't escape her notice how his hand went underneath the pillow — a weapon hidden there, most likely — but then he spoke into the dark and sounded gentle, if groggy.

"That you, doll?"

"Yeah… Can I come in?" she whispered, clinging to the door and trembling.

"Something happen?" asked Bucky, practically awake already.

"No, nothing, but — " How to tell him, how to explain a reason as dumb as this?

He was sitting up in bed by now, rubbing his face with his flesh hand, and then he looked right at her. "Come on in."

She stepped through gratefully but still ashamed, holding onto herself in her flimsy nightgown as she padded to his large bed. As she got closer, she could finally see him: soft hair ruffled, a stubble just barely grown, a plain white tank top stretching across his chest and the hint of scarring around the left shoulder.

His eyes looked curiously up at her, even worried. She hated depending on him, or anyone, and he'd noticed it. So when she looked at him pleadingly from beside his bed, he looked ready to listen, and to do almost anything.

"This is so stupid but —"

"Tell me."

"I'm really sorry to bothe—"

"It's ok, just tell me."

"I had a nightmare please don't laugh at me."

He wordlessly lifted the duvet and patted the bed for her to lie down.

She got in quickly and, before she could think of whether it was the smart thing to do, snuggled up into his body, her face at his neck and knees brushing against his stomach. She had enough control to keep her arms folded to her chest and didn't grab onto him, although she wanted to. Her heart was still beating powerfully away, her ribs and neck pulsing with its rhythm, her breath near panting.

"Thank you. I'm so sorry I woke you up."

"It's ok." he shushed her, one heavy arm going up to tuck her in then staying curled around her, braced against her back on top of the covers.

"This never happened before." she whispered apologetically. "I think I'll be fine in… a few minutes."

"Get the adrenaline out of your body, I know."

She paused and wondered if she should ask, then decided. "You get like this too?"

"Night terrors? Yeah, used to have them a while."

"I don't think it's a night terror… Not really."

"Good." he breathed into her hair, a touch away from a kiss.

It made sense why he'd be so sympathetic. He probably understood what she was going through better than she did, and suddenly she was filled with pity at the thought of him going through that alone — that and even worse, which was unimaginable. She snuggled in just slightly closer, but this time it was not for her own sake, and she regretted, with the strength of real guilt, that she did not know him sooner, that she couldn't be there for him when he needed someone —

"H-how did you get over yours?"

— if, in fact, he didn't have someone already.

"Slowly."

She sighed and rubbed her knuckles against his chest, the closest thing to a caress she could manage, and all around her she felt him freeze for a second in an intake of breath.

"M-must've been some nightmare." to get you to cuddle with me, he left unsaid. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." she sighed. "I already forgot it. But this fear, it's not going away…"

"It's quite something, isn't it." Bucky softly said, the arm around her back moving slightly to brush a thumb over her shoulder in slow, caressing motions.

She burrowed deeper into his chest, feeling surrounded by his warmth as his chin rested lightly on top of her head, both of them melting into the pillows. Slowly, her fear left her, and she became aware of the scent of him burning her up from the inside, sharp and spicy and just a bit sweet, and how she could just about hear his heartbeat, and his breathing, and how she had never seen that much of his naked skin before — though she barely could at all in the dark.

His fingers started making circles over her shoulder, lazy and absentminded, and she had to bury the mournful thought that this was the first time she'd ever felt anything like it.

Bucky pulled her imperceptively closer, bit by bit as the tension left her, and soon the back of her curled hands fell to rest against his chest, her knuckles pressed against a naked patch of skin. She felt him inhale sharply at the contact, and underneath his sheets she too trembled at the quiet tenderness.

"Don't worry, doll." he breathed into her hair. "I'll keep you safe."

She must have dozed off at some point. She became aware of Bucky's hand now hung around her hip, her own arm flung around what measure of him she could reach. Her head was resting on his broad chest and one leg was curled on top of his underneath the blankets. He seemed sound asleep, breathing softly beneath her, head tilted toward her as the faintest sliver of morning light shone through the curtains.

Without moving her head much, she looked up at his face. Bucky seemed more grim asleep than he did awake, his delicately drawn mouth resting in a frown, his brows low and with a hint of tension, his unshaven cheeks scruffy and dark. He must've put on a bit of a show to seem cheerful in front of her, when he did…

She let her eyes lick across his figure, down his thick neck, the stretch of tough skin, and the chest with the hint of hair peeking from underneath the tank top. She breathed in the warm scent of him and suddenly the feeling of his arm gripping her waist, even in the gentleness of sleep, was overwhelming.

There was too much of him, too close, too trusting, too intimate, so wide open just for her, and the inescapable hint of his affection distressed her: with how impossible it was, with how demanding it promised to be.

Slowly, she lifted her cheek off his chest and slinked away, his hot hand scraping across her figure as she went and stepped backwards onto the floor, trying to move the bed as little as possible. She looked at the watch on the bedside table: 4:55 AM.

Tip-toeing away, she left his room and closed the door with the faintest click she could manage.

Bucky opened his eyes to find his bed empty, the room quiet and just light enough for shadows to stretch across the length of it. It was just like every other morning but somehow, through her presence the night before, she'd taken something away. It's not like he'd hoped to wake up to her in his arms. Of course not. That would be silly.

His hand moved over the sheets: cold. She probably left as soon as he fell asleep. It was amazing enough that she had come at all, but then again he had an idea of how her nightmare made her feel; if hers were anything like his, she'd have gone to just about anyone. Even… Don't finish that thought.

He turned in bed, his back to where she'd been, facing the windows and the balcony glass doors beyond which the crowns of far trees swung in the morning air, big and beflowered and brimming with birds. It was, in every other way, a beautiful morning.

And things were so close to being perfect. He had her there, he'd held her in his arms, he'd been given the chance to be good to her, and wanted, and there when she needed him, and over it all hung the cloud of wonder at what a rare person he had found in her. Yes, she was a bit sullen sometimes and unassuming, but he realised those things were what he liked so much about her, that opening to being cared for so precisely shaped for what he had to give.

She wasn’t like the women he remembered from before; she didn’t try to make herself seem softer or sharper or more cheerful than she was, with a carefully curled mane of hair or an impossibly fertile figure, nor was her every gesture an invitation to flirt. She was dull and tender by comparison, a little sensitive and a bit sad, like a girl that never grew up but who, with so small a twist, might suddenly become beautiful.

When he pushed aside his guilts and longings, Bucky was grateful for all those little faults she had. He knew that if she poured her energies into seduction, she could be terrifying and irresistible. So he decided that he liked her distant and sullen and shy, even if it kept her from him. If anything, it only made him like her more, long for her more, want her for his own flawed self; take his pity, that her pride couldn't stand, and turn it into the most dedicated caring.

But he wondered was was wrong with her — what was wrong with him for her. She could hardly stand more than a few seconds' touch from him, like a raw nerve. Did she just not like the way he looked, or walked? Or the things he said, or how he treated her, or talked? Was it the arm? Was it his age? Was it who he was?

All of these were plausible, but somehow it felt like he was missing something. She wasn't just indifferent, she was so deliberately distant it almost seemed calculated. And she didn't just decide to avoid him, he realised: she did it instinctively. Her body reacted first, and she followed. At the periphery of these unhappy thoughts was the pitying realisation that she'd had practice.

Bucky wasn't heartbroken by her tacit rejections, of course not, he wasn't that far gone yet (but there was no way his was the first heart she'd broken).

He thought back to how she was around other men. Charming, more cheerful, joking and flirty but still, in the end, distant. All the teasing jokes distracted from her, all deep conversations distracted from her, all heartfelt consolations distracted from her, every incline of her body faced away.

After only a few minutes, Bucky relented and turned, burying his face into the pillow she'd slept on. It actually still smelled faintly of her hair. It was so specific to her and so comforting, her perfume mixed with something sweet and cloying and just a touch salty, it made his mouth water and his loins burn.

He rolled onto his back, lifted the sheets off his body, and looking down he noticed the state of himself.

"Down, boy." he sighed. "She's not here anymore."

Bucky rolled out of bed and got ready for his morning push-ups. They always made him feel better… Maybe he could add another couple hundred today.

[unbridgeabledistances]

hi<3 okay i am finally writing the new kotss chapter, and once again here is a lil contemplative snippet of tumblr-drabble length as a preview for when i write the whole thing in a day or two!😌💜 (mostly bc i am feeling sleepy and sappy this morning about mickey’s growth and just. cannot get over it.)

hope u enjoy<3

--

He fucking loved the dog, okay?

When they were first waiting in that overly-bright room in the dog rescue center (or whatever the fuck it was called) with Ian sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, and Mickey had seen the bundle of fur with its paws hitting the ground, a scrawny puppy with a swollen belly and a protruding ribcage— he’d immediately known he was in trouble.

First, because there was no fucking way that Ian was going to let them leave this place without it, since he practically made heart-eyes the second the puppy stumbled its way over to him— and second, because Mickey was absolutely, totally sure that he was going to fuck this up. Even reading the fucking description on the website on Ian’s phone screen, “comes from a troubled past and needs a loving home,” made something twist in his gut— because how the fuck was Mickey supposed to provide something like that?

Mickey didn’t take care of shit like this, like fragile puppies or babies or anything he could mess up— and he especially didn’t let in anything more than he could handle losing, anything soft and helpless and innocent that he couldn’t let slip between his fingers on his own accord. He’d learned that shit early, when whatever whispers and soft traces of touches on his cheeks were ripped away by the pry of Terry’s calloused hands— when one day, when he was fifteen, he and Mandy and everyone else didn’t have a mom anymore. Losing his mom, losing his family after years on the road, even losing fucking Terry those now months ago; all of that shit compounded and pressed on the walls of his ribcage in a way that Mickey himself didn’t really understand, and apparently was oozing out of him in a fucking dog shelter as he stood there frozen, in the face of a helpless frame on wobbly legs with silky grey fur.

For some reason, even though he and Ian had been talking about the dog in the abstract for days now, something about seeing the dog scared him shitless— because taking care of shit was objectively scary, and Mickey was shit out of practice with it. He’d never been good, comfortable, at holding something fragile in his hands, something that he could mess up in a second with a slip of judgement. Mickey was great at getting shit done, but with something like this— well, honestly, he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself enough, to not make those split-second choices that Terry made, the ones that left cigarette burns on his sides and snapped his jaw out of place and left him with so many aching wounds that only became more dark and cavernous through the years.

I’m gonna fuck this up.

What if he got too mad and kicked the dog, what if he fed it the wrong shit and it withered away and became more frail than it already was, what if it ran away or got hit by a car or got fucking shot by a stray bullet in a shitty neighborhood? It felt scary to choose to care about something this fragile, to sign up for the loss and the ripping ache that would follow if Mickey overreacted or fucked something up or made a slip-second misstep. In the Milkovich family, loving was a liability— a promise that someone you cared about could get pummeled and bloodied and beaten in front of you, could get handcuffed and dragged upstate for months or years in the blink of an eye. When Mickey was fifteen, scratching “FUCK LOVE” and “STAY THE FUCK OUT” signs on pieces of cardboard with Sharpies he’d stolen from the dollar store, he’d made a promise to himself to harden himself against that weakness— against that loss.

And then, of course, freckle-faced chicken-legged Ian Gallagher showed up at his doorstep anyways.

So he’d let himself love Gallagher—and eventually he’d let himself love Franny after she plopped herself in his lap one day, wearing a princess tiara talking a mile a minute about monster trucks; and he didn’t even mind hanging out with Liam once in a while on those late nights in the Gallagher house, when Ian would be working a double shift and he and Liam flopped on opposite sides of the couch, watching shitty cartoons in a comfortable silence as the glow from the TV screen flickered on their faces.

But none of that felt like a choice—all of those people, those warm bodies to love, just fell into Mickey’s lap; so it wasn’t Mickey’s fault, really, if shit hit the fan. It wasn’t like he made the choice to love them in the first place— it just happened.

But adopting a dog (or having a fucking kid, like he knew Ian wanted)— that was a choice. That was telling something, someone, that you were ready to take care of them; that you were ready to lose everything when they inevitably got taken away, that you were ready to pour all of your fucked-up bullshit into someone and hope that you weren’t the reason why they turned out screwed up. It just seemed like too much; and in the face of the tiny fucking furball that Ian was cooing over as he sat cross-legged, Mickey’s immediate impulse was to keep his distance and tether himself into the linoleum floor miles away.

But of course Ian had done that fucking thing only he had the power to do, and melted whatever iron walls Mickey had soldered into place with a gentle Mick, d’you wanna pet her?— and of course the fucking dog had to nuzzle her goddamn tiny wet nose into Mickey’s hand, and give a too-trusting lick to his palm as she rolled over onto her back, exposing her vulnerable belly even after whatever fucking dog-fight bullshit she’d been through— and immediately Mickey couldn’t couldn’t see a timeline in which they didn’t wrap this fucking mutt up in a soft towel and take her home to the dog bed in their apartment and get her healthy on gourmet fucking dog food from a monogrammed tin bowl.

So even though it drove him fucking crazy that she was so fucking skinny, and the entire first night when she’d slept curled on the bed he kept waking up and googling the best dog foods and exercise regimens and refilling her water bowl at the kitchen sink like an obsessed fucking maniac— he really couldn’t help it.

Against every instinct, he’d chosen to love when he didn’t have to— and he was starting the realize that maybe that shit wasn’t a weakness.

**

“So, I hear you guys’ve got a new mascot.”

Tommy was ambling in the front door, right on the dot of their 2 P.M. opening time, with Kermit skittishly following a few paces behind him.

Ian rolled his eyes from behind the bar when he thought Mickey wasn’t looking (fucking traitor).

“Yeah, I think the whole neighborhood knows by now. Someone’s been a little too eager with the dog photos.”

Which— fuck that. So what if he fucking posted a few pictures of Baz to the mostly-defunct Alibi Facebook page that Kev had given them the login info to, some of which featured Baz wearing Mickey’s sunglasses when they were partway through a walk? Nobody needed to know that Mickey alone was behind that shit— Ian liked taking dog photos too, even though they were never as good as Mickey’s, and mostly just featured the moments Mickey was passed out on the couch with Baz sleeping on his chest.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Ian grinned and turned towards Mickey. “Nothin.’ Just nice to see that you’re growing into the whole dog parent thing. Though it is kind of turning into a stage mom thing.”

Mickey furrowed his brows. “Fuck you. The customers love her. It’s good for business.”

Ian held up his hands in surrender, still smirking—which just cause Mickey to shove him gently in his sternum.

“It’s not my fault Baz is the prettiest pit on the fucking Southside.”

In the corner of the bar, Baz was sitting on her cushion that they’d bought at a boujee pet store down the road, to keep downstairs at the Alibi so they could keep her other dog bed upstairs— and when Tommy and Kermit came into the room her ears immediately lifted, her tail twitching excitedly at the new faces. Tommy just gave a wary side-eyed glance to the dog pillow before plopping himself onto his usual stool, but Kermit nervously crouched beside the cushion and gave Baz’s chin a scratch.

“Ey! Paws off the princess until you drop some money on a beer, Kermit. I didn’t haul myself down to the empty bar on a Monday afternoon to watch you pet my fucking dog.”

Kermit shuffled to his usual seat beside Tommy at the end of the bar. “She’s cute. I didn’t realize pit bulls could be so scrawny.”

Baz was already filling out fast in the few days she’d been living with them; but it was true that she was still small and wiry for her age. Mickey made sure they got some sort of fresh dog food shit from the pet store that they had to keep in the refrigerator (even though Ian insisted kibble was fine, like a fucking cheapskate) to get her strength up, and he also got a bunch of fucking vitamins, like salmon oil and shit to make sure her coat was shiny—and yes, okay, maybe he also bought her a badass collar with spikes on it, and maybe he also dropped money on one of those engraved pet tags in the shape of a skull and crossbones that said “Bazooka Gallagher-Milkovich” on it with the Alibi’s address on it. He couldn’t fucking help it; they had a steady stream of cash coming in from crowded nights, they were planning on doing Ian’s karaoke shit once a month, and Mickey felt like they could afford to spend money on shit like this—like they could afford to do this right. And because of Mickey’s doting, even though Ian had started to take Baz for runs in the morning, it was no secret that she liked Mickey ever-so-slightly more than Ian; when they were laying in bed at night Baz would always hop up and curl into Mickey’s side and leave inches between her and Ian, causing a surprised chuckle to escape Mickey’s lips the first time it happened as he scratched behind her ears. Ian just stared at him, with some sappy fucking smile on his face.

“The fuck’re you looking at?”

“Nothing. Just glad we took her home.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, but felt a smile creeping onto his lips despite himself. “Yeah. Me too.”

“And I’m definitely not jealous of a dog right now.”

**

It was later in the evening and the bar was pretty empty, a standard for a Monday night— Mickey had been trying to train Baz to stay on her cushion now that she’d learned how to sit and lay down on command; much to the amusement of Tommy and Kermit, who kept fucking distracting her. If Mickey had his way, he’d train Baz to bark at Kermit whenever he said something stupid (the guy just got on his fucking nerves, what could he say)—but of course Baz had other plans once she realized Kermit was the one of the pair who would pet her, and kept nuzzling her head onto Kermit’s thigh and thumping her tail on the floor.

“I thought pit bulls were supposed to be vicious.”

“Fuck you, Kermit. That’s fucking… dog racist, or some shit.”

Kermit just meekly looked down at his half-empty beer glass, as Ian came in the front door from where he was bringing in the sandwich board from the curb, not expecting any more customers for the night. He reached down to ruffle Baz’s fur along the way.

“How’s our girl doing?”

“Pretty good. Once these assholes get out of here we can called it a night.”

Tommy scoffed at that. “Milkovich, we’re some of your most loyal customers— hell, we’re your only loyal customers. I think we deserve more than insults.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna go drink the day away somewhere else?”

Tommy faltered for a moment, and raised an eyebrow. “Touche.”

“Alright, bozos. Time to pack up. No one else is coming in tonight, we’ll see you tomorrow. Me and Ian have better shit to do.”

Tommy drained the last of his beer, placing a wad of one-dollar bills on the countertop and giving an exaggerated salute. “Until tomorrow, gentlemen.”

When they left the bar and the doors were locked, Ian’s shoulders started to shake with laughter. “Jesus. I never thought I’d be at a point in my life when I’m dependent on the consistent generosity of Tommy and Kermit, but here I am.”

“More like consistent alcoholism.”

Ian smirked, then flopped to sit on a barstool opposite the countertop from Mickey, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you fine taking Baz out? I’m kinda tired, wanna get a start on dinner.”

“Yeah, man. Works for me.”

They’d been living with each other in the Gallagher house for months, sure, but they were still new at doing this— at only accounting for each other’s schedules, at divvying up tasks like walking the dog and cooking dinner and doing fucking dishes rather than just coasting on someone like Debbie getting them by. Things were different now— things were settled and quiet, in a way that still made Mickey like he had to rub his eyes extra hard to clear them in the still, dark mornings in the apartment, like he wasn’t convinced this shit was real.

After dinner they sat cross-legged on their bed, watching a movie on Ian’s old beat-up laptop with Baz sitting between them and chewing on one of her toys that squeaked loudly every few seconds (this one was a stuffed animal in the shape of a police officer, because in Mickey’s own words at the pet store, “ACAB motherfucker”)— and later that night, wrapped in the smell of laundry soap on clean sheets and dog shampoo, Mickey slept easily.

Maybe this was something he could trust himself to hold on to.

[konaizumi]

A Tale of a Thousand Stars ep 8 thoughts/reaction

did i watch this episode secretly on my phone while i was in class bc i couldn’t stand waiting a whole hour to watch the new ep? maybe

tian visiting torfun’s memorial to leave flowers and tell her that he’s going to pha pun dao was sweet

also him and phupha missing each other again was just a really nice scene and phupha wondering who left her flowers

i have decided to forgive dr nam for last episode (the snooping not the flirting thing) bc i know he was just concerned about his friend and he didn’t intend for phupha to have that kind of reaction, but he still should’ve confronted tian directly before telling phupha

the way tian is looking at longtae in the beginning, seeing how supportive he’s being and knowing that he’s probably about to lose longtae as well

god this scene was so painful to watch, just knowing what was coming

but the editing that combines tian’s speech with phupha reading through the notebook

also, thank you to the writers for confirming that the tian/torfun similarities are bc he’s been reading the notebook and not because torfun’s spirit is possessing him, i didn’t think they would do that but nice to have confirmation

poor tian really did go there with the best intentions

oof, when the music goes silent when phupha interrupts his speech

also, i said this last week, but it should’ve been the rangers responsibility to tell everyone torfun had died and the fact that they didn’t only added to tian’s burden and the animosity aimed at him, and it annoyed me the way the rangers (perhaps unintentionally) let tian take on the full blame and didn’t admit that they had known about torfun’s death from the start

god and the way tian’s heart break is visible on his face as soon as phupha interrupts/confronts him and he realizes that phupha won’t be on his side

and mix’s acting in this scene (and the entire episode) is just so good, you can see the way he’s desperately trying to keep in together and not completely break down, and his heartbreak when he realizes he’s all alone

also, i made a longer post about how i understand phupha’s reaction, I think it’s pretty natural and that he’s not overreacting, however, i do wish he hadn’t confronted tian so publicly like that 

just everything about this scene is just so good in the most painful way, especially the sad orchestral version of the theme song

now i think this ep is too sad for me to say it’s my favorite, but from a narrative/cinematography perspective it is my favorite, it was just really well done

i was really hoping the kids would have a bigger role this ep and begin the forgiveness process for the rest of the village, so i was excited when Meejoo came but then p’aof decided to stab me directly in the heart when she asked what death is

(also im sorry but how old are these kids that she doesn’t know what the word death is?)

(also given that everything that happens in this ep happens within like a 30 hour period, i still hold hope for the kids forgiving next ep once they have some time to process)

at least they didn’t make me watch the scene where tian had to explain what death was, that would’ve killed me

i understand the villager’s reactions too, and i do kind of wish tian would just stay home and give them some time to grieve and process before trying to interact with them–i don’t blame tian for keeping the truth from them this long, but he does need to respect the pain they’re going through

also this scene with phupha really fucked me up, the way phupha remains stone faced even though he’s clearly in a lot of pain

“i wish i could return it to her” one of the things about this story that really fucks me up is that you can’t have both torfun and tian--torfun had to die for tian to live, and if torfun had lived then tian would have died and all the characters are in a way stuck with this moral dilemma of “choosing” between tian and torfun, even if the decision was already made for them, and tian has had to deal with this problem since the beginning and made his choice a long time ago that he would have preferred that torfun had lived instead of him bc he feels like she had more to live for and left behind more than he would’ve

also the scene is so much more painful knowing that just that morning phupha had finally said out loud that he wanted tian to stay

and i was really ton this scene between understanding phupha’s reaction and where he’s coming from but also being like “please stop talking to my son like that, he feels bad enough as is”

i have often had the emotion of “i want to walk through the screen so i can give this character a hug” and i have literally never felt it stronger than this episode of atots

also thank you to dr nam who told phupha not that he was wrong for his actions, but that he should’ve confronted tian differently, also for figuring out that tian wasn’t the driver

the fact that tian just walked through the tea field so he knows that either khama was lying to him or that longtae saw him in the field and hid from him

poor longtae tho, thought he knew what was coming then was hit with “im responsible for her death”

you know what? i didn’t realize khama would have such a recurring role from the first episode, but i really like him--he’s trying to do his best for the village and that isn’t always easy and he’s the first to try to think about tian’s perspective even when it’s clearly difficult for him

also i love khaotung, he does a really good job as longtae, and as much as i loved him as chonlatee, i prefer him in more mature roles like longtae or fong

did dr nam really think phupha would keep letting tian stay in his room?

it came as a surprise to likely no one but i am glad to have definitve confirmation that tian was in fact not driving the car

against my wishes, tul did not show up this episode to give tian a hug so i hope he’s in the next ep to provide some much needed emotional support

tian’s involvement in torfun’s death is also complicated because to say he had no responsibility in it would be wrong but to say he had full responsibility wouldn’t be right either, there was so much of the situation that was just due to chance, as it the case in any accident, so i appreciate the nuance of the narrative in that tian does take responsibility (even if he takes too much) but other characters like longtae argue that it’s not his fault, bc it’s easy from an outside perspective to say it’s not tian’s fault but it would be much harder to be in tian’s position and not feel responsible that his actions lead to torfun’s death

longtae is truly best boi

tian saying he’s okay with just longtae understanding him is so sad but at the same time it’s good that he’s not trying to force other people to understand or forgive him

now i really want to know what torfun’s wish is bc you know it’s going to be all meaningful and thematically relevant

istg if i had a fucking nickel for every time tian has tried to give me a heart attack

i spent the entirety of part 4 yelling at tian to just stop being stupid

like i get it, you don’t feel like you have the time to waste to go find phupha, but still

also im worried that maybe the reason he was so adamant about doing it himself and not finding phupha was because he didn’t feel like he could go to phupha or that phupha might not believe him

tian please just listen to longtae being the voice of reason

or at least send longtae back to the village to go get phupha if you’re this determined

as soon as he pulled out his phone i fucking knew the flash would go off bc tian can’t be smart without also being dumb

pls don’t hit my son he has a weak heart

longtae running away like “i didn’t sign up for this shit”

pls stop hitting my son

i was wondering how tian’s dad would become involved in the story again and tian name dropping him to escape being killed by poachers was not it

but sakda was clearly scared when tian first said the name so obvi they’re connected and i’m assuming the person who called tian’s dad was either sakda or one of the other men there which means that tian’s dad is doing illegal shit (surprise surprise)

tian i know you’re stressed but pls let rang provide first aid

that montage at the end tho really hit me

also the parallels between this scene and the one when tian fainted in the field, it’s literally the exact same scene but the roles are reversed

also the fucking post credits scene, the emotional whiplash, the pain from knowing phupha said this stuff literally hours before everything went wrong

the way i squealed when phupha said i do (and throught the rest of the scene), it was literally the sweetest thing, it might be my favorite phutian moment so far

so for the last two episodes, im assuming that tian’s dad coming to get him and the dad being involved in illegal stuff will be the main external conflict, i wouldn’t be surprised if next ep ended with the dad showing up and demanding to take tian back

also the next ep preview, khama telling tian to forgive himself, im weak

this episode just made me feel so much, the story is just so complex and nuanced, and the characters are real and messy, and pls more bl in the future that aren’t afraid to tell more serious stories (as much as i love the romcom style of most bls i would love some more variety)

[bts-trans]

210204 BigHit’s Tweet

[네이버 포스트] 소복소복~ 방탄소년단의 2021 윈터 패키지 비하인드 대방출! (@ https://m.post.naver.com/viewer/postView.nhn?volumeNo=30646656&memberNo=51325039)

#BTS #방탄소년단

[Naver Post] Softly, gently~ The grand reveal of behind the scenes from BTS' 2021 Winter Package!

Naver Post Translation

Keep reading for a plain text version of the blog post! For a picture edit version, please check out our twitter post!

Title: [BTS] 방탄소년단이 강원도에 떴다?! 소복소복~ 2021 윈터 패키지 맛보기!

Title: [BTS] BTS popped up in Gangwon-do?! Softly, gently~* A preview of the 2021 Winter Package!

(T/N: A description for how snow falls. Jimin uses the phrase in his Soundcloud release ‘Christmas Love’.)

아-하!

Hi-A!*

(T/N: Stands for ‘Hi ARMY’, which is how Bangbell always starts these posts.)

안녕하세요 아미 여러분! 방림이 2월의 첫인사 드립니다!

Hello ARMYs! Hello and welcome to February!

방림이가 나타난 이유! 벌써 눈치채셨을 것 같은데요 그래서 더 긴말하지 않겠습니다!

The reason I have appeared is! I think you probably have guessed it already So I won’t spend too much time explaining!

네 그렇습니다. 방탄소년단의 윈터 패키지가 돌아왔습니다!!!

Yes, that’s right. BTS’ Winter Package is back!!!

이번엔 강원도에 나타났다고 하는 비티엣스!

BTS showed up at Gangwon-do this time!

윈터 패키지 촬영 현장을 어디 한 번 방림이 마음대로 공개해보겠습니다!

I’ll show you the Winter Package shoot the way I want to!

분위기 있는 모습으로 첫 촬영을 시작한 정국과 진

Jungkook and Jin start the first shoot off with looks that really have a vibe to them

비주얼 무슨 일이야..? 나 왜 웃고 있어..? 포스트 시작부터 웃음 짓게 만드네요~

What’s up with these visuals..? Why am I laughing? The post really makes you smile right from the beginning~

하지만 역시 이 둘에게선 장난을 빼놓을 수 없었다

But of course, these two can’t help but kid around

멋있게 촬영하면서 귀엽기까지 한 비티엣스 (눈물) 방림이 심장 돌려내..

BTS go from cool to cute in their photoshoots (sob) Give me back my heart..

바다+방탄=행복 예쁨 기쁨 천국 (대충 뭐 좋은 건 다..)

The sea + Bangtan = Happiness Beauty Heaven (pretty much everything good..)

비주얼 조합 머선 일.. 세상에 존재하는 좋은 수식어는 다 갖다 붙여야 형용이 될 것 같아요..

What is this combination of visuals.. It feels like you have to put in all the good adjectives in the world to be able to describe them..

방깨비 뚝딱 한편 나왔다..

Thump thump, an episode of Bangoblin is now out..

(T/N: A reference to the spell goblins say in Korean folklore, “thump thump, appear now, gold!”. ‘Goblin’ was also the name of a popular Korean drama that aired in 2016. The drama filmed in Gangwon-do as well. )  

사실 방림이.. 저 날부터 성냥 들고 다니는데.. 나타나 주질 않네요...

Actually I.. have been carrying around a match since that day but.. He doesn’t appear before me...

(T/N: In the popular drama ‘Goblin’, the female lead lights a candle to summon the male lead, who is a goblin.)

오랜만에 나타난 슈가! 비주얼 마구마구 터트렸다는 건 안 비밀~

Suga is here after a long while! The fact that his visuals have really exploded is no secret~

빼놓을 수 없는 투 샷! 바라만 봐도 믿음직스럽고.. 듬직하고..

Can’t leave out a two-shot! Just looking at them makes you feel like they’re trustworthy.. Dependable..

뭐 그렇더라고요 (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

Well I mean that’s what they say (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

분위기 뿜뿜 뽐내며 단체 촬영도 마무리!!

With some intense vibes The group photoshoot comes to an end too!!

이렇게 모여있으니까.. 방림이는 세상에 두려울 게 없어요..

When they’re all together like this.. There is nothing in this world that scares me..

호에엑!! 갑자기 이렇게 귀여워진다고?! 아미들 심장 180도 뒤집어 놓은 귀여운 지민 등!장!

Ack!! You’re telling me they suddenly got all cute like this?! Jimin is!here! To make ARMYs’ hearts flip a full 180

눈을 가지고 장난치는 정국을 보니.. 그저 어린 시절로 돌아가고 싶고.. (이런 소꿉친구 사귀고 싶고.. 속마음 아님)

When I look at Jungkook playing around with the snow.. I feel like returning to my childhood.. (I want a childhood bestie like him.. No, I’m not just revealing my inner thoughts)

그렇다..

That’s what it is..

어떻게 이래요..? 스노우볼 보다 쟈근 얼굴..

How is he like this..? A face smaller than a snowball..

방림이 눈 감아..

I’m closing my eyes..

이건 혹시 정국 쟁탈전? 방림이도 바아로~ 참여하겠습니다!

Is this perhaps a fight for Jungkook? I shall also take part immediately~!

피융~~~ (튕겨 나가는 소리 아님..)

Pew~~~ (That’s not the sound of me bouncing off..)

지진정 조합.. 바라보기만 해도 재밌어.. 바라보기만 해도 행복해..

The JiJinJung combination.. It feels fun even if you’re only looking.. I feel happy even if I’m only looking..

호비 생일 혹시 10월 4일로 바뀌었나요..? 아.. 1004... 라는 숫자밖에 떠오르지 않아서요..

Hobi have you perhaps changed your birthday to 10/04..? Ah.. 1004... is the only number that comes to mind..

(T/N: 1004 in Korean is ‘천사/cheonsa’, which is also the word for angel.)

이 사진을 보니 내가 눈사람이라니..!

When I look at this picture Suga shouting ‘I can’t believe I’m a snowman..!’

를 외쳤던 슈가가 생각나는데요..?

comes to mind..?

(T/N: A reference to Suga’s Weverse post from 25 Dec 2020, where he posted during BTS’ performance on SBS Gayo Daejun.)  

이렇게 멋진 눈사람 있으면 제가 사겠습니다.

If there are snowmen this cool out there I will buy them.

이 조합은 바라보기만 해도 해피해피 힐링 유닛~★

Just looking at this combination makes me feel happy happy Healing unit~★

슈가: 아 호비랑 사진 찌거야지 (주섬주섬)

Suga: Ah I need to take a picture with Hobi (Fumbling)

찰칵!

Click!

방림이 좋아하는 사람 손~~ 저요 저요!!

Raise your hand if you like Bangbell~~ Me, me!!

아아.. 이거 아닌가요..?

Ah.. isn’t that what this is..?

어떠한 컨셉도 소화력이 대단해!!!!! 귀염+멋짐+#$(+($*%( 기타 등등 = 천재만재라는 뜻

His ability to pull off any concept is incredible!!!!! Cute+cool+#$(+($*%( etc etc = he’s a genius

새하얀 눈 속 알앤뷔♥

R&V in the pure white snow♥

왜 울고 있는지 여긴 알앤뷔 뿐인데 (Feat. 네시)

Why are you crying It’s only R&V here (Feat. 4 O’CLOCK)

(T/N: Title of RM & V’s collaboration song released on Soundcloud on 8 Jun 2017.)

알앤뷔 좀 안 착한 것 같아요…

R&V look like they’re not nice...

방림이 마음속에 안착! >.<

They’ve made a nice safe landing in my heart! >.<

(T/N: Wordplay on the Korean words for ‘not nice’, which is ‘안 착한/an chak-han’, and ‘nice/safe landing’, which is ‘안착/an-chak’.)

이 사진을 보고 슈가의 자리가 탐나는 아미 손! (1/7777777777777777777)

ARMYs, raise your hand if you’re eyeing Suga’s position! (1/7777777777777777777)

아~~~~~~~~~~~ 미

AR~~~~~~~~~~~ MY

라고 외치는 것 같은 귀여운 단체 샷!

Is what it looks like they’re shouting in this cute group shot!

웃음만 가득했던 즐거운 스키장에서의 촬영도 마무리되었습니다!

The fun ski photoshoot full of laughter has now come to an end!

혹시.. 강원도 유형문화재이신지..? 제 눈에는 뷔주얼 난리 난 조각상만 보이는데요..?

Are you perhaps.. Gangwondo’s tangible cultural asset..? All I see is a statue with V-suals that have wreaked havoc on my eyes..?

아니.. RM씨.. 이러면 안 피곤해요…?

RM.. come on.. Aren’t you tired...?

이렇게 멋있으면 하루 종일 아미들 머릿속을 돌아다니잖아요 촤하하하하!!

When you’re this cool, You keep running around in ARMYs’ heads all day bwahahahaha!!

세상.. 나이는 나만 먹네..

Good god.. I’m the only one ageing..

멋진 모습 보여주다 귀여운 표정도 찰칵

While showing us how cool he is We get a snapshot of his cute expressions as well

(사실 바람에 눈이 시렸다는 건.. 어.. 모른척해요..)

(Actually his eyes were stinging because of the wind.. ah.. just pretend you don’t know..)

마치 슈가를 위해 존재한 풍경처럼 배경과 너무나 잘 어울렸던 촬영!

It’s as if the landscape exists for Suga He really matched the background so well in this photoshoot!

잘생긴 애 옆에 잘생긴 애 옆에 또 잘생긴 애 옆에 또 잘생긴 애...!!!

A handsome guy next to a handsome guy next to another handsome guy next to another handsome guy...!!!

그거 바로 방탄이야!!!!!

That’s Bangtan!!!!!

손에 낀 장갑도 귀엽고.. 머리에 눌러 쓴 모자도 귀엽고.. 꼬부랑 앞머리도 귀여운 그저 갓 홉!

The glove on his hand is cute.. The cap on his head is cute too.. The curled bangs are cute too That’s God Hope!

똑똑.. 타지에서 오신 분이 있으시다면서요? 아아 여기 계셨네요!

Knock-knock.. I hear there’s someone visiting from out of town? Ah, so he was here!

정국이라는 판타지..

This fantasy called Jungkook..

(T/N: A play on the word ‘타지/ta-ji’, which means ‘out of town’ or literally ‘another place’, and ‘판타지/pan-ta-ji’, which is the Korean spelling for ‘fantasy’.)

길 잃은 강냥이..? 제가 데려갈게요!!

A pupkitty who’s lost his way..? I’ll take him!!

윈터 패키지 촬영 내내 리즈 갱신의 갱신을 거듭한 박강냥씨

Park Pupkitty goes through golden era after golden era throughout the Winter Package shoot

귀염 뽀짝 뽀짝 모든 모멘트가 귀여웠던 꾹, 찜, 홉 유닛 촬영!

Cutie pies The unit photoshoot of Kook, Chim and Hope, whose every moment was cute!

멋진 풍경 속에서의 비티엣스를 마지막으로 방림이는 포스트를 마무리해보려 합니다!

I’ll wrap the post up with one last picture of BTS against an amazing view

이제는 빠지면 아쉬운 셀카 타임!!

Now it’s time for what has become a must-have, selfie time!!

비티엣스의 귀엽고 멋진 모습들을 가득가득 담은 2021 BTS WINTER PACKAGE에 많은 관심 부탁드리며,

2021 BTS WINTER PACKAGE is full of BTS’ cute and cool sides, please show it lots of support!

방림이는 정말 마지막으로 보너스 사진 한 장을 두고 인사드리겠습니다!

I’ll give you one last bonus picture and then I’ll say goodbye!

또 만나요! 아-뿅!♥

See you! A-Poof!♥

(T/N: Short for “Bye ARMY! Poof!”, which is how Bangbell always ends these posts.)

귀엽다_귀여워_보자마자_소리_지를_수_밖에_없는_사진_철푸덕_소년단.JPG

Cute_TheyreCute_You_CantHelpBut_Scream_AsSoonAsYouSee_ThePicture_BoyscoutsGo_Plop.JPG

[Note]

본 포스트는 빅히트 엔터테인먼트에서  직접 운영하는 포스트입니다.

This Naver Post account is personally run by Big Hit Entertainment.

[End Note]

Trans cr; Aditi & Faith | Typeset cr; Laura & XPXOXD @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

[carotidartistry]

COVID and the Arts

The existence of algorithm-driven, non-chronological "timelines" is very bizarre right now. On my Facebook feed, I see posts from March 10 talking about starting the second week of previews or celebrating good box office returns. On March 12, my job ceased to exist, as did the jobs of hundreds upon hundreds of people as an entire industry shuttered over the course of one day.

The cancellations and closing of events and arts/entertainment venues, while important for public health, have left many people (who earn on a gig basis rather than salary) very suddenly and entirely without expected income. There is no work-from-home option, just their job disappearing entirely. Some people will be able to collect unemployment insurance, but many won't even get that, as they work as independent contractors who are paid a fee for work delivered or vend their goods directly to customers at such events.

This is a tough time for arts/events organizations and those who work them (which includes not just artists but all of the ushers, custodians, etc. whose work is tied to the event itself). I'm compiling ways to support those who have been impacted (pass-the-hats for donating to individuals, funds that are accepting donations, ways to purchase people's goods/services, etc.) and resources for those who have been impacted. The industry community is coming together in a heartening way right now, but it would mean a great deal to me if those not in the industry could take a moment to glance through and maybe even to share this information. Even if you can't make any sort of donation yourself, it means something to have this hardship be seen and acknowledged.

Additionally, if you have tickets to events that have been canceled and don't immediately need your funds returned, I encourage you to wait a bit before reaching out to the theater/venue/etc.. Box office workers have been overwhelmed. And particularly if it was a ticket for a non-profit or grassroots organization, if it's possible, I'd encourage people to consider donating the cost of their ticket rather than demanding a refund.

While I'm aware that there are many people in many sectors taking a hit right now, I am putting my focus on where I am and would like to keep that the focus here. Please share any relevant updates, additional resources, etc..

Support Those Who Have Been Impacted

A general pass-the-hat for individual theatre workers (updated daily): I Lost My Theatre Gigs

“The Indie Theater Fund is launching this fundraising campaign to provide direct support and emergency relief to independent theaters and artists in response to the COVID-19 pandemic.” https://www.facebook.com/donate/509591526599992/509604039932074/

NYC Low-Income Artist/Freelancer Relief Fund: "We seek to provide support for low-income, BIPOC, trans/GNC/NB/Queer artists and freelancers whose livelihoods are being effected by this pandemic in NYC. Whether it's from cancelled gigs, lost jobs, or a lack of business due to coronavirus scares, we hope to orchestrate an egalitarian approach to crowdsourcing." [Note: their funding applications are currently closed as they make sure that they have enough resources to cover the 500 people who have already applied.] https://www.gofundme.com/f/nyc-lowincome-artistfreelancer-relief-fund

"The Philadelphia Performing Artists' Emergency Fund was created amid the COVID-19 outbreak to assist performing artists whose income has been impacted by show cancellations, slowing ticket sales, and/or low turnout during this pandemic." https://www.gofundme.com/f/philly-performance-artist-fund

"The Boston Artist Relief Fund will award grants of $500 and $1,000 to individual artists who live in Boston whose creative practices and incomes are being adversely impacted by Coronavirus Disease 2019 (COVID-19)." https://www.boston.gov/artistrelief

Boston Music Maker Relief Fund: "Small grants of up to $200 will be paid rapidly on a first come, first served basis to affected artists and groups. Please see grant guidelines below. Donations will be accepted from individuals and corporations in order to replenish the fund and continue making payments to eligible music makers in the queue. The Record Co. is covering all admin/processing costs so 100% of every donation goes directly to music makers in the community. Please consider donating using the form below or contact matt@therecordco.org to get involved.": https://www.therecordco.org/relief

Durham Artist Relief Fund: "Funds donated here go directly to artists and arts presenters in Durham who have been financially impacted by cancellations due to COVID-19, with priority given to to BIPOC artists, transgender & nonbinary artists, and disabled artists": https://www.northstardurham.com/artistrelief

Emergency Relief Fund for Artists During COVID-19 (Minnesota): https://www.givemn.org/story/Epf3ag

Opera San José Artists and Musicians Relief Fund: “This emergency cash reserve will allow us to provide support to the musicians, singers, carpenters, stitchers, designers and other hourly company members that make our productions possible and who will be deeply affected by COVID-19.”: https://operasj.secure.force.com/donate/?dfId=a0nf400000QZ7hKAAT

A pass the hat for individual SXSW workers: "Update 3/10: We have received over 400 submissions - thank you! We are working diligently to verify each submission and get them posted. As of today, the total amount of reported income lost is $2,108,835. Your stories are heartbreaking but we know them all too well. We appreciate you, we see you, and we love you, Austin. Hang in there." https://www.ilostmygig.com/

2020 ECCC Artists Alley: An unofficial compilation of Eccc2020 artist alley online shops. Browse the goods of artists who won't have the opportunity to sell directly to their anticipated customers: https://ecccartistalley.tumblr.com/

Artists Alley Online:  A directory for some of the artists who would have been at Emerald City Comic Con (March 12-15, 2020) had it not been moved due to the corona virus.  https://artistalleyonline.com/

Shoutout to the theaters who have suspended performances but are still paying their artists in the interim. These have been reported to include: Ars Nova (https://arsnovanyc.com/), Geffen Playhouse (https://www.geffenplayhouse.org/), WP Theater (https://wptheater.org/), Soho Rep (https://sohorep.org/), Playwrights Realm (https://www.playwrightsrealm.org/), New York Theatre Workshop (https://www.nytw.org/), Rattlestick Playwrights Theater (https://www.rattlestick.org/), the McCarter Theatre (https://www.mccarter.org/), Parity Productions (https://www.parityproductions.org/), and Second Stage Theater (https://2st.com/).  (sources: https://twitter.com/diepthought/status/1238194781437734912?s=19, direct email from Second Stage)

More who have been named are the Public Theater (https://publictheater.org/), Transport Group (http://transportgroup.org/), Vineyard Theatre (https://www.vineyardtheatre.org/), and Lincoln Center Theater (https://www.lct.org/). (source: https://twitter.com/westratenick/status/1238847988262453248)

Please consider giving those organizations (and any others who are doing similarly) your support if/when you're able to.

Resources for Impacted Arts/Entertainment/Events Workers

Freelancers & Community Resources 2020: Resources centered for artists and those impacted by gigs being canceled/postponed: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xt1QZlGsyga_HrXagubV9O0rebV5dx4DuMOd2sWvWwc/edit

COVID-19 & Freelance Artist Resources: https://covid19freelanceartistresource.wordpress.com/

NYFA Emergency Resources: "Artists who experience personal hardship or who are impacted by a large-scale disaster, or who need funding for a last-minute opportunity can find critical resources in NYFA's Emergency Resources Directory.": https://www.nyfa.org/Content/Show/Emergency%20Resources

The Indie Theater Fund: "Rapid relief grants of up to $500 will be awarded to support our community, prioritizing the consortium of companies, venues, and individuals working in NYC independent theater (Off-Off-Broadway in theater houses of 99 seats or less), operating with budgets under $250,000. We will award grants on an on-going basis until our funds run out. Grants can be requested via a simple online application and will be reviewed on a first come first serve basis.”  https://forms.gle/pLm7bLhKQE8AbpDn6

Send your information to "I Lost My Theatre Gigs": https://ilostmytheatregigs.squarespace.com/

Philadelphia Performing Artists' Emergency Fund: Emergency Funds can be requested by any Cabaret, Drag, Burlesque, Theater, or performance artists facing a financial hardship caused by COVID-19. Performance artists who need aid can apply here: https://forms.gle/SwsMERPM1CTivFyc7

Boston Artist Relief Fund application: https://cityofbostonartsandculture.submittable.com/submit/af2153eb-2d87-4e9d-9ebc-5861eb135999/boston-artist-relief-fund

Boston Music Maker Relief Fund application: https://therecordco.typeform.com/to/w6wTkF

Durham Artist Relief Fund application: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdEJKTP91h5e7MuUITHj96J6eKWeZjgVLZjLG4Wp-WMhyQ4mg/viewform

SXSW workers send your information to "I Lost My Gig" here: https://www.ilostmygig.com/

[cutiepisenpai]

Part 1 of 3.   Part 2   Part 3

Kenma X F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Implied Sex

Kenma is a well known and extremely successful video game streamer. He has millions of followers who would show up day after day and watch his hours-long streams. His followers of course know very little about his life outside of gaming. The shy streamer shared nothing of his personal life and his fans searched for any miniscule amount of information they could find. They all knew about his best friend Kuroo who would show up in his streams from time to time. They also knew he has a long time girlfriend, they heard you talking to him on a few streams before but you never come into view of the camera. The few times that they had heard her she was checking in on him. His followers have asked many times if he would ever reveal her and he always says no. He likes his private life to stay private, but little did they know that there is another reason other than privacy that he didn’t show his girlfriend in videos is because you are a very popular vlogger and cosplayer. Back when you were in high school he was in a few of your videos that are now private, long before either of you rose to popularity becoming the big names you are known as now. Some older viewers of yours know about your relationship and thankfully have kept that secret for you as well. But there are still people who just want to know anything they can.

Right now you are doing a live Q and A and can’t count how many times, ‘Who are you dating?’ has shown up in the chat. 

“Alright guys the Q and A can’t just be you asking me about my relationship. So for the final time no you don’t get to know his name or see what he looks like.” You say, before continuing on answering questions about upcoming conventions and cosplays you are working on.

“Okay guys it’s about time to bring this to its end…” At that moment Kenma peeks his head in and you look up over the camera. “Hey, I was just signing, off I’ll be there in a minute.” Kenma nods leaving the room.

“Ok I am out until next time.” You say ending the live.

Sitting back into your chair giving a little stretch before getting up and walking out of the room. You find your way to Kenma who is lounging on the couch switch in hand. You sit down next to him leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Sup, puddin’?” 

He shrugs, “Nothing, your stream went well. Except for all the people asking about me.” 

Another thing no one knows is that you moderate each other's chats while streaming. 

“They just want your beautiful face to grace their screens.” You joke. 

“Do you want them to know?” He asks.

“Nah, I prefer to keep you all to myself but I would be glad to stop all the questions.”

“That wouldn’t stop the questions. They will ask hundreds more after finding out.” He says.

“True. If we ever decide to tell them then I can finally convince you to dress up at a con with me.”

“Not a chance.” He shuts you down.

“Oh, come on.”

Your regular day could be hectic; you usually filmed early in the morning while Kenma was still sleeping before editing or working on your cosplay. Today you are filming several videos consecutively because you were going to a gaming expo with Kenma and you can’t film or stream while there together. You also needed to pack later for the both of you for the trip. Kenma could pack for himself but it's easier on both of you if you just do it. While you are busy getting everything you need to do done, Kenma sleeps on peacefully.

You may have thought that Kenma was asleep when you got out of the bed, but he hadn’t slept at all that night. He had big plans that you are unaware of. He talked with Kuroo and Hinata but neither helped calm his nerves. He lays awake in the bed exhausted, he can hear you filming in the next room. The sounds of your cheerful laughter makes him smile. He has been so exhausted trying to keep his plans a secret from you and soon it will all come to a close. He takes a deep breath before sitting up and dragging himself out of the bed. He pulls his suitcase out of the closet and starts packing. 

Once you are done filming you walk back to the bedroom to find Kenma has already packed his bad and started on yours. He is currently looking into your underwear drawer confused. 

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Packing.” He says bluntly and you roll your eyes.

“I see that, I meant why?”

“We’re going on a trip.” This guy can’t be serious.

“I am also aware of that...”

“Why do you own so many different types of underwear.” He asks cutting you off.

“What?” 

“They’re organized in pairs, but why are there just so many?”

“Pairs?” 

“Tops and bottoms.” He hasn’t turned to face you looking at the drawers offendedly. 

“I was going to pack.”

“I couldn’t sleep so I just did it.”

“Did I wake you?” You ask. He shakes his head in response. “Okay, well thank you for packing, but I can take it from here.” 

Kenma makes no effort to move, giving the drawer one last glance before picking up a sheer mesh bra and panty set. “You should bring these.” He says, before kissing your forehead and walking away. 

A few hours later and your bag is packed you set it and Kenma’s next to the front door stopping  by his stream room to check in on him. You peek inside waiting to catch his attention. 

“I’m not streaming right now.” He says.

You walk over sitting in his lap and draping your hands over his shoulders. 

“What are you doing?”   

“Just editing some clips for while we are gone.”

“Ah, I need to go edit my videos too.” 

“You should probably go and get that done.” He says. 

“Trying to get rid of me.” You feign being hurt.

“No but I don’t want you to be stressed about it tomorrow while we are traveling.” 

You share a quick kiss before you are on your way out. Once he is sure you’ve gone to work on your own stuff he pulls the video program back up that he had been working in. It was a video he had already edited several times trying to assure it was perfect. 

The next morning bright and early, much to Kenma’s dismay, you were off heading to the convention. The first night would be a preview night, but that didn’t mean you could walk around as a couple. You actually avoided each other a bit so that no one would become suspicious. He hung with other game streamers while you met up with some vloggers you know, occasionally coming together your close friends always asked if it was difficult to do these events together when you had to pretend to not be a couple. And of course it could be difficult but you were both used to it at this point. During these events Kenma wished that everyone knew about your relationship already so that he could have you next time while he dealt with the hordes of people he encountered. By the end of the first night you are both completely exhausted and after your showers you fall asleep quickly. Kenma wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He looks over to you sleeping peacefully and decides to go into the other room. He opens his laptop playing an RPG game, but he can’t focus and dies repeatedly. He grows frustrated until you plop down on the couch beside him startling him.

“You should be asleep.” He says.

“You’re one to talk. Why are you in here?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Nothing.”

“I know you better than that. Something has been bothering you. I thought you were stressed about the trip but now I know I’m not sure.”

Kenma is quiet, he is normally quiet but this is a telling silence. 

“I’m just worried about tomorrow.” He sighs.

“What’s tomorrow? The tournament?”

“Yeah.” He lies. 

“You shouldn’t worry about something as silly as that you’ll be great.” You say to reassure him. 

Seeing you smile believing so wholeheartedly in him, helped relieve the immense amount of stress he had been feeling. 

“Ready to go back to bed.” You ask.

“Yeah.” 

Kenma finally got to sleep peacefully for the first time in weeks. The next morning trying to wake Kenma up requires effort and patience.

“Come on Puddin’. You have to get up.” 

“Don’t want to.” He mumbles. 

“We’ve got to get downstairs.” You say and receive no response. 

“I’ll give you kisses.”

“You’ll do that anyways.” You hear muffled from under the covers. 

“You are right, Okay what do I have to do to get you out of bed.”

“Nothing I’m not getting up.”

“I’m not going to keep playing nice with you.” No response. “Okay.”

You pull the covers off of him climbing over him and straddling his hips. He cracks an eye open looking up at you and moves his hands to your hips. 

“What is your plan?” 

“Get up.” You say adamantly. 

“You don’t scare me.” 

“I have an incriminating photo of you.”

“You would never post that.”

“You’re right I wouldn’t, I have a better plan. I will send it in the group text to the team.”

He opens both of his eyes wide, “You wouldn’t”

You pull your phone out, “Try me.”

“You’re mean but fine.” He pouts sitting up and coming face to face with you. 

You smile at him, “See that wasn’t so hard.”

He kisses your forehead and taps your legs for you to get up. Down at the expo today Kenma is busy meeting his fans, you watch from a distance and even from where you are standing you can see how uncomfortable he is. You want nothing more to go over and comfort him but you know you can’t. You send him a text instead, 

To Puddin’:

You’ve got this just take a deep breath. 👍

He opens the message and smiles, the crowd notices and breaks out in questions and you are glad you weren’t over there. Later on that same day you meet up before the tournament starts.

“This is so exhausting. How do you do this so often?” He asks 

“Mmm, I’m much more of a people person that you. But I think I just got used to it.” You look at the clock nearby, “Alright it looks like it’s time to head over for the tournament.” 

He hums in agreement getting up and heading out of the door before you. You wait a few minutes after he leaves before leaving yourself and going to take your seat watching the tournament begin. Kuroo shows up taking the seat next to you, “Hey, what’s up?” Kuroo says.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him.

“Wow you hurt me and I thought we were friends.” Kuroo says clutching his hands close to his chest.

“I’m happy to see you. I'm just surprised. Shouldn’t you be at work.”

“I got out of it.” He says proudly. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Oh yea do they know you’re at a gaming expo?”

“You don’t tell my secret and I won’t tell yours.”

“I don’t have any secrets.”

“So your millions of followers know about Kenma now.”

“Shut up.”

The announcer comes out and introduces the gamers playing in the tournament. You and Kuroo cheer loudly and embarrass Kenma just a bit. The tournament has been going well, everyone making quiet conversation, Kenma has gotten into a groove playing intensely. Suddenly the power goes out. You feel Kurro’s hand grip your wrist, people murmur around you. ‘Sorry for the interruption everyone. We will fix the power and be back momentarily.’ The announcer says. 

“Are you afraid of the dark?” You ask Kuroo.

“No, are you?”

“No but I am also not holding onto you.”

“I’m keeping you safe.”

“From what exactly.”

“Creeps.” 

You laugh knowing he is completely serious. The screen on the stage flickers before lighting up and everyone's attention is directed towards it. A video begins to play, “Hey, it’s Kenma.” You say to no one in particular. He looks nervous almost fidgeting before he takes a breath and starts talking, “Hi everyone I am Kozuken if you didn’t know I am a pro - gamer.” You stand and watch trying to figure out what this video is, “I am not good at this, but I made this video for something important. My followers have always asked about my girlfriend and for privacy reasons I never show her in my videos. But she is the.. I don’t…  there aren’t words to describe her.. But this video is for her.” There are a series of awws heard all around. The video shows a montage consisting of photos and video clips in chronological order, starting from when they first met in middle school to high school with the volleyball team, graduation from high school. When they lived together in college and the moments of their life until now. You are so engrossed in the video you don’t see everything moving around you. As the montage ends Kenma is back on the screen. “She is my heart and soul and I can’t imagine my life without her and so if she would just turn around I have something to ask her.” The video ends and when you turn around Kenma is behind you down on one knee ring in hand. 

“Will you marry me?”  

You stand there in shock because you hadn’t suspected it at all but you can see him starting to panic from your silence. 

“Yes, of course I will.”

You had forgotten you were at a public event surrounded by thousands of people until the crowd cheers startling the both of you. He stands sliding the ring on your finger giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. There are cameras flashing and people cheering all around. You are ushered out by the event coordinators helping you back to your room. Once inside with the doors closed you are finally able to take a deep breath and take in what happened. You feel a rush of excitement and jump wrapping your arms around him. 

You let out a high pitched squeal, “Oh my god. I can’t believe that just happened. I had no idea…” You begin to ramble. 

Kenma just looks at you in awe smiling. He listens to your rambling just happy he was finally able to get that done and even happier that you said yes. You two stop when you hear a knock followed by the door promptly opening.

“Hey lovebirds, please tell me you’re decent. Wouldn’t want to see that again.” Kuroo says walking into the room.

“If you would stop walking in without anyone prompting you that wouldn’t have happened the first time.” Kenma says as your face heats up at the thought of that incident. 

“Ah, just yell out before I can see anything.” He smirks, “You know to let me know. But I guess that could be confused with the other kind of yelling out.”

“Okay, what do you want?” You ask before he can say anything else. 

“To celebrate with you of course. I’ve seen this from the very beginning now let’s break out the champagne and celebrate since you know pudding head finally decided to announce his love for you to the world.”

“To the world?” You ask. 

“Oh yeah that whole thing was live streamed on both of your channels.” Kuroo says.

You look to Kenma who is avoiding eye contact, “Is that true?” 

“Yea, sorry I didn’t ask it would’ve ruined the surprise.”

“It’s okay I’m just surprised and a little scared to check my phone now.” 

“Do that later after you’re completely blitzed.” Kuroo cheers popping the cork on the champagne. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled next to Kenma drinking way more than you should and talking with Kuroo. Late into the evening Kuroo says his goodbyes before heading for his own hotel room. You and Kenma are lying in bed and you can see your phone flicker every few seconds with a new notification. The ringer had been turned off long ago. You turn over in bed to face Kenma gently moving the strands of hair from blocking his eyes. He grabs a hold of your hand bringing it to his lips and kissing it. 

“Tomorrow is going to be a very long day.” You say.

“It is .” Kenma nods in agreement.

“At least I can stick close to you. Since everyone knows now.”

“Yea that will be good.”

You have a big smile plastered on your face. “What?” Kenma asks.

“I’m just happy.”

“Go to sleep.”

The next day things are eventful normally the final day of any event would be calm and this was anything but that. Fans are still buzzing over the news of you two and the engagement surprise offering the congratulations. The day is overwhelming for both of you and by the time it is over you are ready to be back in your own peaceful and quiet home. When you finally decide to check social media you are bombarded by thousands of photos, videos, clips and mentions. Most are positive but there are a few critical tweets here and there. It is just too much and you decide it can be avoided for a little while longer. It can’t be avoided forever. Both of your careers require you to react eventually and it will come sooner rather than later since you have filming and lives planned. At the house you want to collapse on your bed, you slowly change waiting for Kenma to come in but he doesn’t. When you find him he is in his streaming room staring at the three monitors. 

“Couldn’t wait to play.”

“”Hmm, I’m not playing.” He says turning slowly to face you but looking back at the screen. As you approach him and the screen comes into view you see that he is in fact scrolling through twitter, something that he never does. He opens his arms up a gesture you have come to know as him asking you to sit in his lap. You do just that sitting between his legs leaning your back against his chest. 

“So why are you scrolling through twitter?” You ask.

“It’s faster on my pc than my phone.” 

“Understandable, the question is still the same.”

“I had a lot of notifications.” 

“Well when you decide to abruptly make your private relationship with another well known creator public that happens.” You say.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes.”

“Well so long as I am with you I am always happy.” He says hooking his chin over your shoulder.

“You should probably stop scrolling. It’s not good.” You say and he hums in agreement. “We can take a bath together and cuddle while playing an easy game.” 

The next week was hectic, you two tried to continue as usual. But during Kenma’s first stream back his chat was spammed with question upon question about you and your relationship. Why weren’t you on his stream, after three hours he ended his stream early out of frustration. You had a little better control in your own live for the most part, you started your live by saying you would not be discussing your personal life regardless of them knowing about the two of you now. You thanked everyone who sent their congratulations but still you had to remind them that you and Kenma still valued your privacy and not to go over to his channel and bother him. 

“We’re going to have to do a Q and A aren’t we.” Kenma says over dinner. 

“We don’t have to do anything, everything that we do is our own choice and our own decision.” 

“Do you think they will ever stop asking?”

“It may die down after a few weeks but there will always be questions.” 

You two end up announcing a joint live Q and A after too many of Kenma’s streams kept getting spammed with questions. 

“Hello everyone and welcome to our first and probably only ever joint Q and A.” You announce. 

You can feel the nervousness seeping out of Kenma, he was barely comfortable answering questions during his streams and then he had a buffer. Most of his focus on the game. It was strange to be here with Kenma if anyone had ever said when you started dating that one day he would propose to you with nearly a million people watching you would have thought it was a lie. Hell if someone had mentioned that something like this would happen even a month ago you wouldn’t believe it.

“I hope you all don’t mind listening to me talk because getting a lot out of this one is practically impossible.” You say gesturing to Kenma. “So we have a list of pre submitted questions we will be going through and after we will answer questions from the chat.” 

You hold up a notecard with a question for Kenma to read, “ ‘Where did you meet?’, Seriously that’s boring.”

“Okay so we actually met way back as first years in middle school. I was an exchange student and Kenma was my first friend in Japan.” Kenma nods along not feeling the need to add more.

“ ‘What was your first impression of me?’ Oh that’s a good one.” You read.

“You were quiet and shy. I don’t know where that went.”

“I got more comfortable around you. Is this your way of telling me to be more quiet?”

“No.”

“ ‘How long have you been dating?’ ” He reads, “Since high school.” 

“We have been dating for seven years since our first year of high school.” You say. 

There are comments in the chat talking about you being high school sweethearts and of course none of them would have ever had a chance with either of you since you have been together so long. You two have finally gotten into a groove answering questions, laughing and telling stories. Kenma loosens up after a while almost forgetting you are being watched live. You had gone through cards you had prepared and are now taking questions from the chat. 

“ ‘When are you going to get married?’ ” Kenma reads.

“Well since we’ve been engaged for less than two weeks no idea. Seriously take a guess and maybe you’ll be right. We probably won’t mention it publicly anyway. We love you guys but don’t want any wedding crashers.”

“ ‘What do you argue about the most?’ ” You read.

“Sleep probably?” Kenma says looking at you. 

“Yeah neither of us have the best sleep schedules and we argue telling the other that they need to sleep.” 

“ ‘Who wears the pants in the relationship?’ ”

“We like it best when neither of us are wearing pants.”

“ ‘Who said I love you first?’ ” 

“Well we were friends for a long time before we started dating So I love you was just a pretty normal thing to say like hello or goodbye by the time our relationship became romantic.” You say. 

“She did.” Kenma answers.

“Care to elaborate.”

“No”

“C’mon, you obviously remember and I don’t so it’s only fair that you share.” 

With a huff, “The first time you said it was when you were leaving to visit your home over the summer break. You hugged me and said I love you and that I would be the first person you saw when you got back.”

You are left speechless that he remembers that so vividly. The chat of course is filled with hearts and everyone talking about how cute it is that he remembered. 

“Okay everyone this is where we are ending this tonight because nothing else could top that. We hope that you are having a good morning, afternoon, or evening wherever you are in the world. Until next time.” You say ending the live. “Oh my god were you trying to make me cry on live.” 

“No.”

“Well I almost did. You do realize you are so cute and anyone who was not simping for you before that definitely is now.” 

“Why all I did was say what happened.” 

You give him a kiss, “Yea and that is exactly why.”

“That makes no sense.”

[haru-sen]

Imperial Forces

I’ve written...a lot of words for a fanfic no one asked for, and only one person has confirmed knowing what the hell I am even talking about.  My god. This is a preview of the IAL anniversary gift and may be changed down the road.  Certain people instigated this, you know who you are, and I’m still salty at you.

TW:  This is a darker piece of work compliant with some of the unpleasantness that one expects the Sith Empire.  Includes: dubcon, mentions of previous sexual assaults, attempted sexual assault, bad boundaries, bondage, and improper use of the Force.  Edited: Posted some minor corrections. Part 1/?

You sat at the table, ramrod straight, focusing on the silverware, and your glass of wine. The cut of the crystal was exquisite, and the wine was a Dathomirian Fury Red, if you recalled correctly, which you might not, because the entire day had been an absolute disaster, and you would be so very lucky if you made it to the dessert course. Surviving this situation was highly unlikely. You’d known for awhile that your time was extremely limited. But having dessert before you were murdered by a Sith lord, would be kind of nice.

You glanced up at the masked Sith, and then the bored moff across from you: dinner, dessert, death. At least the dining room was luxuriously decorated. You’d always expected to die in a dark, gross alley. This was an upgrade, really.

But for some reason, all these high-end pre-murder amenities were not making you feel any better.

**

They called you Cipher 13, because your real name was classified, and because the previous Cipher 13 took a one-way trip down a sarlacc pit the night before your spontaneous promotion. In all fairness, the name was probably cursed. You were the “unluckiest” of the Cipher agents, often getting the worst assignments or having your missions interrupted by the most unbelievable accidents.

It was an old joke by now, but you still got regular comments about your unenviable misfortune. Like today, when you’d gone to the quartermaster to stock up on the special blend of stimpacks Ciphers used. Fixer 3 had made an awkward joke about how your formula had “unpredictable results” and looked uncharacteristically scared when you took one right in front of him. Fixer 3 was normally a sensible guy and you liked him. You weren’t sure what he had been thinking today.

But it had been a long week, and you had not been given the regular rest break between assignments. Something “urgent” had come up. Watcher 5 had briefed you of your next mission, which was something convoluted and political. You were working for a Dark Council member. Watcher 5 had slipped in a snide remark along the lines of, “try not to let your personal chaos spill into this operation. Sith Lords have little tolerance for surprises.”

He said this, like you had control over these things. Ridiculous.

For example, how could you anticipate that a rancor would get loose at a diplomatic banquet and eat the person you were supposed to interrogate (along with half a dozen or so other very important people)? Not your fault, and certainly not within your control, and despite slicing the needed information from his personal terminal, the mission had been judged (unfairly!) to be a failure. Then there was that pazaak tournament on Nar Shaddaa where you had been burned by another Cipher, who outed you to the Hutts. It didn’t matter, in the sense that you won the game, shot her in the face, and received the boon you had entered the tournament to acquire. (The Hutts didn’t care who you worked for, as long as you weren’t crossing them.) You received demerits for having your cover blown by another agent’s blatant betrayal. (But she didn’t get any, because she was dead, and Minder 2 was pissy with you after that forever.) Then, there was that time you’d walked right into a Jedi strike team ambush meant for Darth Baras on Corellia… You were lucky to only lose a hand that day. Coincidentally, the officer who had given you the bad intel had also been fatally unlucky. He had a rare and deadly allergic reaction to the nuts in his ryshcate pastries, served at a diplomatic fete that weekend. How tragic it is when one can’t even enjoy their pastries.

But it wasn’t just misfortune. The current Keeper did not like you, had never liked you, and was growing more and more frustrated by the fact that you kept coming back alive, when many others did not. (You knew for a fact that the Minders had a betting pool regarding your survival. Minder 12 had been very helpful in providing you the behind the scenes information. You missed her.) As Keeper effectively ran the ops division of Imperial Intelligence, this was a definite problem.

Watcher 4 had been instrumental in keeping you alive. But now that he was gone, you were on your own with very few allies within your organization. That was why you had been given this newest assignment. (You missed Watcher 4 as well, and while you could not and would not try to prove it, you thought he and Minder 12 might have faked their deaths and run off together. It was a purely fanciful notion, but you could dream, right?) Imperial Intelligence agents didn’t get happy endings. And Ciphers usually didn’t make it to five years.

You had seven.

By all rights, you should have been able to transfer to a Watcher position a long time ago. But that never happened. It was probably because Keeper hated you. You did not know exactly why. You suspected it was because you were not born into the upper echelons of Imperial high society. You had started out a slave, earned some freedom, and trained as a Cipher; but on the Imperial capital planet of Dromund Kaas, that wasn’t enough. Your continual survival offended him, a constant reminder of his own failure to erase you.

And so here you were, assigned to the whims of Darth Thanaton, a member of the Dark Council, a crusty overpowered madman, and worse, an absolutely unmitigated boor. He was urbane enough in his public appearances, but behind closed doors? An absolute drama queen.

You stood in his foyer, Thanaton was shouting now, and you got the impression that he did this a lot, having an audience present was optional. The man himself was older, fit enough to show his face (no mask or rebreather), and had been quite the assassin in his day. The room was black marble, filled with ugly stone antiques, and it felt like a mausoleum, only louder and more oppressive. Your head was pounding and your stomach churning as you struggled to pay attention to his spiel. You were professional enough that you could maintain a mask of respectfulness, despite your growing physical discomfort. You had powered through worse.

Like that time on Tatooine when you’d broken a leg in melee combat with Tusken Raiders…That had been a bad day. Or that time you’d gone undercover as a Hutt’s dancing slave on Nar Shaddaa. Or even when…

Focus. Thanaton was bad enough. You did not need to take a trip down traumatic memory lane in the middle of a Darth’s monologue.

Thanaton spent a good quarter of an hour railing against the failing morals and falling standards of the Sith academy on Korriban. And then another quarter of an hour complaining about the bureaucratic delay in assigning a “suitable” Imperial Intelligence agent to his cause. He went into great detail about how much the Council needed this work done, and how important it was, and how Lord Messor’s habits were unseemly, and Moff Kiljack needed to know his place, and...and...and… It went on much longer. He sprayed spittle when he spoke. It was painfully distracting.

You nodded along, like a good Cipher, even though you could feel the nastiness of his aura crawling along your skin. It worsened your nausea. You were no saint, but being near powerful Sith made you queasy. There was something fundamentally wrong with most of them, and your body knew it. But you stood at attention, masking your disgust, because to cross a Darth was a clear-cut and uncomfortable death, usually with choking, sometimes lightning. You’d seen it up close many times and experienced lighter versions of those punishments yourself. Best avoided if possible.

Keeper knew what he was doing. There was a fifty percent chance that you wouldn’t even make it to the mission. Snotty old Darth Thanaton would take offense at you for simply existing and smite you before you had a chance to get to work.

But you were not unaware of the situation. Lord Messor was an unconventional dark lord, taking more than his share of apprentices from Korriban (and doing who knows what with them? Sith Lords didn’t usually keep more than one alive at a time). Moff Kiljack had been one of those apprentices, and had shown an extreme aptitude for military strategy. He had then been put on a different career track, promoted to head of Messor’s security forces, and given free reign. Eventually however, things between the men soured, and the former security chief had managed to wrangle a promotion from the Imperial army, instead of just wasting away as Messor’s lackey. He gained some powerful allies and rose quickly to the rank of moff. To no one’s surprise, Messor hadn’t taken the change of allegiances well, and now things were awkward, to say the least.

Thanaton claimed that he found the entire situation offensive. You didn’t think it seemed any different from any other horrible day on Dromund Kaas. There were so many betrayals, atrocities, and political cliques, you just tried to keep your head down, and your heart beating. It was more likely that Thanaton feared Messor’s growing power and wanted to eliminate a rival.

If only you had gotten another off-world assignment. You’d already disabled the kill-chip implanted in the base of your skull. You could just fake your death, move to some peaceful, secluded farming planet, and not worry about being flayed alive for accidentally making eye contact with a power-mad sorcerer.

You’d always suspected your cause of death would be “someone else’s ego” or at least “collateral damage,” but you didn’t expect it to play out so literally. By the time Thanaton actually got to the point, you had been standing in his foyer for an hour, watching him froth and rant. Lord Messor or Moff Kiljack had just been assigned to deal with a situation on Hoth or Voss (you couldn’t tell because Thanaton had been going at it for so long that he kept switching the names and not giving you any kriffing context…) But you were to sabotage those efforts, make Messor and the moff lose credibility, fall from grace, and be tossed into the bone pile in the waste dumps outside the city.

That’s it. Ruin them on the basis of his disapproval and use his tenuously plotted scheme to do it. Failure would be met by death.

Success would also probably be treason, and that too was punishable by death.

Hell, if you did succeed, Thanaton would have to kill you to tie up loose ends.

Death, death, or more death, with no obvious way out. Normal mission parameters, really.

Nodding, you told him, “I understand, my lord. It will be done, my lord,” while preparing to take a shuttle off-world and commit very public suicide on Nar Shaddaa. Hell, you could just go throw yourself at the mercy of Theron Shan. He probably would only torture you a little, as a formality, before taking pity on you, and ending your misery himself.

OK, clearly you had been in Darth Thanaton’s dark energy radius for too long, because his madness and depressive thoughts were now rubbing off on you. Plus you still wanted to throw up. And Thanaton might have sensed your urge to flee, because he sent you back to the Imperial High Command with an escort: one of his security advisors, a pompous man of “good breeding” named Captain Prince, and a dozen heavily armed guards.

Druk.

The soldiers weren’t really there for you, you realized once you were already seated in the convoy listening to Prince further explain Thanaton’s “plan.” Lord Messor was taking on a greater role in the war effort against the Republic, and Imperial High Command was providing more men for his military gambits. Prince and his men were being overtly assigned by Imperial High Command, though they were actually loyal to Thanaton. Prince would be reporting to Messor tonight. Your cover was as Prince’s assistant. Your job would be reconnaissance and sabotage, and you would be reporting your progress to both Prince and Thanaton. You also would be expected to produce reports for Keeper, not that Prince understood the workings within Imperial Intelligence.

...It was shit plan. You knew it even before you heard it, though Prince seemed confident that his background would pass muster. That was a little more reassuring than Thanaton’s mad ramblings, but still amateur. Prince was a decorated military man, and had seen some very vicious combat, committed atrocities, and been rewarded for his service. He was not the man you would have put in charge of any operation that required subtlety. If Keeper had wanted this job done right, he would have assigned it to you himself, and given you free reign. There was a lot of subtext to unravel, but right now you had to nod along to Captain Prince’s blathering. He wasn’t nice, he stared at your chest longer than was polite, and he put a hand on your knee. You lightly brushed it off, reminding yourself that you could not kill Thanaton’s representative on the first day.

Like any highborn noble, Lord Messor had an estate outside the city. The route was straight forward, and you were taking a regular speeder to get there. Contrary to your expectations, the ride actually helped clear your head. You were still a little shaky, but less nauseated. Getting away from Thanaton helped. Wind lashed at your skin as you watched the jungle pass by, and you wondered how much of a lead you would have if you left for Nar Shaddaa tonight. With any luck, it would be hours before anyone noticed you were gone.

You waited, hands steady, even as you and Prince exited the vehicle. It was raining, as usual, and the air stunk of ozone. Three more men followed from another transport, and Prince did not offer any introduction, though you could feel them watching you with predatory eyes.

The Messor estate had several outbuildings, and the gates were high. A large fortress had been partially carved out of the cliff, the jungle providing more strategic cover. Though solid, it had the columned facade of an ancient Sith temple. You studied it, not quite sure what Thanaton had been complaining about. Lord Messor seemed to have traditional Sith tastes (gothic and imposing), at least when it came to architecture.

“Come on, kitten,” Prince said with a leer. “If you want to marvel about size, I have something to show you.”

The men behind you laughed.

You just smiled politely, and decided that maybe Prince would lean too far out a window tonight. The jungle provided a lot of ambient noise to cover any screaming. The winds were dangerous. Accidents happened, especially around you. Hell, if Prince was defenestrated, they’d probably be too busy mopping up the meat confetti to look for you…

Prince led the way to the fortress, frowning as an HK droid met you at the bottom of the steps.

“Greetings, Captain. Lord Messor is expecting you. Please come this way.” The droid pointed to a more discrete entrance: a small path leading to a recessed door. With the foliage and the angle of entry, it was well-concealed.

Prince’s upper lip curled in aggravation, but he adjusted course. You followed, noting the placement of the turrets, the thickness of the walls, and the fact that the droid that met you was a high-end assassination model. It spoke like a protocol droid, it had those functions as well, but you were very familiar with the HK series.

You followed Prince through the heavy durasteel door and to a narrow set of stone steps. The lights were low, and the stairwell was mostly in shadow. Then the door slammed shut behind you, leaving the HK droid and the other three men outside.

Prince stopped, he glanced at you questioningly.

“I didn’t shut it,” you said.

Prince pushed past you and tried the handle. The door did not budge. He frowned and drew his blaster pistol.

“Let’s go,” he told you, gesturing with the pistol for you to go first.

“Of course, Captain,” you said, maybe a little sarcastically, as you marched up the stairs, keeping an eye out for trip wires, pressure plates, or any of the other nasty surprises that Sith lords liked to keep around their homes.

...Druk. Sometimes there were creatures. The local fauna was bad enough, but the Sith liked to import nasty things as well as craft their own monsters. You’d seen plenty and you had no desire to face Sithspawn again any time soon.

You stepped lightly. The stairs went up for at least three stories, and then there was another door. You glanced back at Prince.

“Hurry up,” he growled.

You opened the large metal door, and stepped into a cavernous room big enough to serve as a huttball field. Dim lights shone in wall sconces, and two rows of black pillars lined a path to a massive carved throne. All these features seemed to be cut from the same mountain stone.

There was a figure on a throne, black and red robes under a heavy breastplate, a black hood and stylized skull mask covering his face. He wore heavy metal gauntlets, tipped with dangerously sharp talons.

“Captain Prince,” Lord Messor spoke quietly, his voice smoother than you expected, a lot calmer than some other dark lord whom you had met earlier today. The acoustics of the room were amazing, his voice carried through the hall.

“Ah, my lord,” Prince stepped past you, his blaster already holstered. “I am honored to finally- be in your presence.” He gestured for you to follow as he led the way toward the throne.

“I did not give you orders to approach.” He sounded almost bored.

Prince stopped. “My apologies, my lord. I did not-”

“You don’t need to explain,” Lord Messor said, resting his chin in one palm. “And I don’t have patience for your excuses.”

Prince cocked his head to the side and looked almost comically confused.

And then Moff Kiljack – you recognized that striking blonde hair and those icy blue eyes - stepped out from behind a pillar, and pressed his blaster to the back of Prince’s skull. There was no hesitation. He blew the captain’s brains out right there in Lord Messor’s throne room. Prince dropped with a thud.

You barely had time to avoid the splatter, let alone wonder what Moff Kiljack, Lord Messor’s sworn rival, was doing in his throne room. You glanced between the Sith lord and the moff, wondering if you had time to dive for cover while they battled.

Instead, Lord Messor just sighed. “Ensign De Veo,” he said, using your cover name, and giving you hope that he didn’t know exactly what was going on. “Also known as Cipher 13,” he added, crushing that hope. “I’m sorry for the mess. Kiljack can be so...uncivilized.” He stood and began descending from the dais.

You glanced over at Moff Kiljack, not at all surprised to find the blaster pistol aimed at your head.

“That’s unnecessary, Kiljack. I’m sure our dear Cipher understands her position.” Messor swept down the stairs from his throne, red and black fabric swirling behind him. He circled you like a hungry sleen. “Now, I realize this isn’t what you expected. But I’d be delighted to explain everything. So why don’t you join us for dinner, and we can discuss what you’re doing here, why you’re still alive, and what you need to do to stay that way. This should be easy enough for a woman of your caliber.” He chuckled.

There was no room for panic. You survived because you could think on your feet. Because you didn’t get caught up in “what should have happened.” You kept your mouth shut and most of your insubordinate comments in your head.

You gave a stiff bow from the waist. “I would be honored, my lord,” you said, already tasting lightning in the back of your throat. It was very unlikely that you would get through the night without a demonstration of Sith might.

Lord Messor laughed, like he found you genuinely amusing, and headed toward the eastern doors.

“Cipher,” Moff Kiljack was at your side, offering you his right arm. He was a tall man, very fit in his officer grays. There was blood on his cuffs and glove. He stood like he was carved from ice.

You swallowed and tentatively placed your metal hand on his bicep, wondering if you could scratch him with one of your poisoned needles without him noticing.

“I wouldn’t,” Kiljack said, not even turning his head to look at you. “Be a good girl, and you’ll make it out of this alive.”

You shivered, suddenly very cold in your officer’s tunic. The fear crept down your spine, threatening to freeze you in place. But that would not do. You forced yourself to breathe. You had forgotten that the moff had once been a Sith apprentice. Force-users could pick up surface thoughts. Normally though, you were better at shielding. You steered your mind back to nav-charts and the asteroid belts of the Outer Rim. Head held high, you walked with Moff Kiljack to Lord Messor’s banquet hall.

**

And so here you were now, seated to the left of Lord Messor, a very bored Moff Kiljack sitting across from you, watching you with cold eyes.

The table was long, almost the length of the room, and also carved from the same obsidian stone as the chamber. The same with the high-backed chairs, though they were not attached to the floor, and had plush cushions on them.

Your brain was working almost too fast, panic welling in each heart beat. You tried to calm yourself, as you stared at the vividly colored salad in front of you. You turned some of your hyperfocus on that. It was very aesthetically pleasing, and would not be out of place at a restaurant on Alderaan or Coruscant. Perhaps it would pair well with-

-So what the hell was going on? Moff Kiljack and Lord Messor shared a well-known enmity. But now they were working together, likely because they had learned of Darth Thanaton’s intent to bring them both down. Prince’s men were definitely dead. HKs were ruthlessly efficient like that. You were a loose end, but one they could bargain with. They would want to use you against Thanaton, of course, but you were an experienced Cipher. You still had some resources-

-a Starblossom spritzer or a Coruscant blush wine. You weren’t sure what the next course was, but traditionally there would be a protein and a starch, and-

-This wasn’t a con you could pull off alone. Not that it had much of a chance before. The original plan was half-baked garbage and you didn’t really want to-

Wait.

You willed yourself still, taking a moment to breathe. Your mind was moving too fast. There was something wrong. Had been wrong all day, your focus slowly sliding into the abyss. But trying to figure out what was exactly was wrong, was like grasping at fog. And with both a moff and a Sith lord watching your every move, now was not the time to buckle.

Your memory coaxed up a tiny epiphany. This started around the time you met Thanaton. Was it him?

Kiljack took a bite of his salad, his flat expression not changing, even as he chewed.

Lord Messor was not eating though. He raised his mask to sip his wine, but given the kinds of damage Sith lords did to their bodies, it was possible that he did not have a normal digestive tract.

“Is the food not to your liking, Cipher?” Messor asked, curling those metal talons against his palm with a rhythmic tap tap tap.

“It is exquisite, my lord,” you said, picking up your fork, and taking a bite. The vegetables were crisp, fresh, and lightly vinegared. There were sweet berries mixed in with crumbles of salty cheese. If this was your last meal, you could have really done worse. “Are these Alderaanian fickleberries? They’re a wonderful addition to the dish, just the right amount of sweetness.”

“Indeed,” Messor practically purred. “You have a sophisticated palate. I understand that you are well-traveled.”

“Or she’s used them before,” Kiljack said, still eating his salad. “Likely when she mixed them with the nuts in that Corellian ryshcate to poison Ambassador Morrow. Clever move: I understand the symptoms mimic an allergic reaction. Never thought to mix fickleberries with vweilu nuts and a decoction of grillig-juice. All are harmless on their own, but when combined together, the enzyme produced causes catastrophic organ failure in most humanoids.”

You froze.

“Do you think that would work on Darth Thanaton?” Kiljack asked, tilting his chin up “No, that’s far too radical for him. Mixing foreign nuts and berries, he’d never go for that.” He flashed you a predatory smile. “You might have better luck with a rancor.”

They knew.

This wasn’t just about Thanaton. No one in Imperial Intelligence decisively knew everything that you had done, or how: just that you got results. But Moff Kiljack and Lord Messor, two mortal enemies had just sat you down to dinner and they karking knew. And if these two knew what Imperial Intelligence did not, that meant they were far more driven and dangerous than you initially expected and how did they know? Why did they go through all that effort-?

Terror, still fresh from your encounter in the throne room, blossomed in your chest once more. Dozens of scenarios played out in your mind: the consequences of your exposure. There was no need to go into graphic detail, though you kept getting distracted with colorful visions of your own evisceration. No matter what you thought of, it all ended very badly for you.

In that moment, you cursed your premature deactivation of your kill-chip. They knew. And if it was you versus a Sith lord and his moff ex-apprentice, you would not win. They had already done the hard part, already figured out what you did and how. And then you had just walked into Messor’s home, a gift-wrapped sacrifice. They wanted something from you, and judging by what they already knew, what it took to find that information out, they had the will and means to break you. You’d seen the inquisitors work, seen the aftermath too, the piles of mewling meat begging for death. Being on the wrong side of Sith and moff persuasion wasn’t any kinder. Electrocution or a snapped neck were far better.

You were on your feet in seconds, already turning to run, hoping Moff Kiljack would take you out in one shot.

“No!” Lord Messor raised his hand, and you slammed back down into the chair. Something in your body cracked as you struck the stone, and the world went black for half a second before you snapped back into your body.

You tried to move, but the force held you in your seat, pressing tightly against your chest, your arms pinned down on the armrests. You could barely breathe, let alone move your limbs. Shuddering, you could only watch as Moff Kiljack leaned against the edge of the table in front of you. He reached out, one gloved hand tilting your chin up.

“You hit her too hard, Messor,” his voice was calm. “She’s bleeding and her pupils are uneven.”

“Couldn’t help it. She moved too fast, and she was planning to self-destruct.” Messor’s voice came from behind gritted teeth.

“That, or hoping to get one of us to do it for her.” Kiljack shook his head.

Cold sweat dripped down your neck. Your breaths came in short bursts. You were trapped, back flat against the stone chair. You couldn’t move. And you were at the mercy of men who didn’t know the meaning of the word. A strangled sob died in your chest as you vainly tried to move your limbs.

“Shhhhh, don’t struggle,” Kiljack reached for your napkin and then gently blotted your nose. “Messor, she’s having trouble breathing.”

“I know,” Messor shuddered, and took a deep breath. “She’s very scared.” There was a note of something like hunger in his voice, but he raised his hand again, and suddenly you could draw in a little more air.

“Mmm,” Kiljack nodded, those blue eyes studying your face. “That’s it, stop fighting us. This doesn’t have to hurt.” He set the napkin down, watching you intently, like a puzzle he wanted to dissect. He smiled then. “You are very loud, Cipher.”

You gritted your teeth and tried to stifle your breathing. You must be badly injured if you were making too much noise. Ciphers didn’t make a habit of being loud. For obvious reasons.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kiljack said. He leaned in, nearly nose to nose with you. “Quiet your mind.”

You stared at him, trying to swallow, but your throat was dry and your vision blurred. You dropped your head, too dizzy to stay upright.

Kiljack lifted your water glass to your lips. “Here. Take small sips. We don’t want you to choke. On the water.”

You flinched, waiting for one of them to follow up with a traditional Sith demonstration of force choking.

“Just drink your water,” Kiljack ordered.

You opened your mouth, closing your eyes as the glass touched your lips. The cool water tasted better than you hoped and the light steady stream cleared your throat.

“That’s it, good girl.” He stroked your cheek, his black glove soft against your skin. “Is that better?”

You managed a nod, feeling queasy from the motion alone.

“Now, are you going to behave?” Kiljack asked coolly. “Or do we have to keep you restrained? Another stunt like that, and I won’t be so nice, do you understand?”

“I’ll be good, sir,” you said, voice weak, and you had to grit your teeth, because speaking hurt. That force blow had done some damage to you. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact location, because your whole body ached. You still couldn’t move. And to make things worse, Moff Kiljack, of all people, was trying to gentle you like a wild tauntaun.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the different routes off of Nar Shaddaa instead of your current location. And you waited for the next threat of more pain, or the lightning, or whatever Kiljack wanted to use.

“Now, she’s gone silent,” Kiljack muttered.

“She’s in pain,” Messor said, his voice still low. “And while I find nav-charts far less tedious than endless streams of pazaak, someone really needs to teach you how to shield your mind better. I don’t know how you’ve survived this long with such loud and irreverent thoughts.”

Normally, you were better at it. But Kiljack had said your pupils were uneven...OK, concussion. That made sense. You took an inventory of your injuries: bad concussion, something fractured in your chest or abdomen, and you still were trapped here with a dark lord and a moff who wanted you for nothing good. Druk. It would have been so much easier if one of them had just killed you outright. They were supposed to be good at that kind of thing. Hell, you could still bite your tongue off and-

Kiljack gripped your chin, prying your jaw open. “I thought you were going to be a good girl, Cipher.”

You whimpered.

“I will get the bit and the slave collar,” he said glaring at you.

You relaxed your jaw. You weren’t trying to upset him. You were concussed. And you didn’t have complete control of your faculties right now.

Kiljack narrowed his eyes at you. “Is that so? Do I need to get the bit for your own safety? Or would you prefer I make you a cloth gag? Messor, can we borrow your sash?”

“Sah-ee, sir,” you said. It was not the first time you’d given a disingenuous apology with another man’s fingers in your mouth at the dinner table, and quite frankly you were a little embarrassed to be in that situation again.

Then came the spasm of pain that would have bent you in two, if you could move that far. Instead, you twitched, teeth clamping down on the moff’s fingers as you struggled to breathe. You tasted blood in your mouth, though you weren’t sure whose it was.

Kiljack’s eyes widened, but he didn’t move, and the slap you expected did not come. He waited for you to unclench before withdrawing his fingers. He examined his torn glove with a sigh. “We’re going to need kolto, Messor.”

A kolto pack floated over the table to Kiljack.

Nimble fingers began unbuttoning your collar. You opened your eyes to see Kiljack unfastening your tunic, a kolto pack in hand. His gaze lingered on your thin undershirt for a moment, and then he applied the cool healing gel onto your stomach, along your sides, and around to your back.

“I don’t think we’ll be finishing dinner out here any time soon,” Messor said.

“Messor, I’m not making do with just a salad, no matter what kind of fancy berries you put in it,” Kiljack said, wiping his hands off and checking his fingers. There were teeth marks, and some broken skin, but nothing severe. After the kolto application, the wounds started closing up as you watched.

Messor laughed. “We can take our meals in our rooms. Why don’t we call the medical droid and put our guest to bed first?”

The pressure on your body suddenly lifted, but before you could regain your bearings, Kiljack scooped you out of the chair.

“Is this causing you more pain?” He asked, one arm supporting your back, the other under your knees.

“No,” you said, though breathing was still uncomfortable. Rib damage, likely. You didn’t struggle, too woozy to make good decisions right now. On the bright side, it looked like they weren’t going to kill you just yet, but also, you hadn’t made it to dessert, and you were a little sad at the prospect of missing whatever Lord Messor’s chef had concocted. Even if it was fickleberries mixed with vweilu nuts and a decoction of grillig-juice.

Despite the danger, you could not keep your eyes open. The world faded away.

You dreamt.

**

You were back in that dining room, candlelight casting eerie shadows on the walls. You saw yourself bent over that banquet table, Lord Messor’s hand on your back, your face pressed against the stone, your wine glass rolling on its side, the red liquid dribbling onto the floor. You felt a spark and flinched, that light crackle of electricity as those metal talons trailed down your spine.

“Scared?” Messor murmured, his breath hot on the back of your neck.

“Yes, my lord,” you panted, squirming under him, feeling his cock pressed against you through his robes.

“Good.”

**

You were on your knees, staring up at Kiljack, the tip of a riding crop under your chin. You didn’t recognize the room. There was a small fountain flowing in the corner. It was an office, probably aboard a starcruiser from the shape of the window. You did not recognize the orbit. But Kiljack was in full moff regalia, gray tunic coat and jodphurs, black boots and gloves, and a heavy belt. Was this his battleship?

“I told you to open your mouth,” Kiljack said coldly.

You hesitantly parted your lips, noticing that your hands were unbound. You could-

Kiljack pushed a piece of silicone into your mouth, the ring shape holding your teeth apart. He fastened the strap snugly around your head.

“That’s better,” he said, an edge in his smile as he cupped your cheek. “This wouldn’t be necessary if you were more careful with those teeth. Now be a good girl and stick out your tongue.”

**

The bedroom was large and dimly lit.

The bed was enormous, draped in scarlet silks and pillows. It was comfortable, but you could not actually move very far. You poked at the gold collar latched around your neck. You wore matching bracelets and anklets, but there was a chain attached to the collar and secured to the headboard. You rolled your eyes at the outfit: the dancer’s garb with the red and gold harness top, chain belt and lashaa silk loincloth, and knee high boots.

You had worn these before – what spy hadn’t? But you didn’t remember getting here, or where here even was.

There was someone else in the room, somewhere in the shadows, just watching you. You looped a length of chain – your best bet for a weapon, and began examining where it connected to the headboard.

“I thought you were going to behave today.” Messor’s voice came from somewhere in the darkness.

“But if this is how she wants to play, why should we deny her?” Kiljack laughed.

The lights went out. And suddenly you weren’t alone on the bed.

**

“So do you like the view?” Kiljack whispered. “You’ll have to be quiet, or everyone will hear us.” He tightened his grip around your waist. “Or maybe that’s what you want.”

You sat on his lap, looking around the throne room, in all its sinister glory. Crimson imperial banners hung from the walls and pillars, the firelight casting harsh shadows. There was a second story balcony overlooking the throne room. It was too dark to see if anyone else was up there. But the rest of the cavern was a vast expanse, easily surveyed from the throne where Kiljack sat: Lord Messer’s throne.

He was right. If you made any noise, it would echo.

You swallowed roughly, eyes drifting to the spot where the moff had executed Prince. There was no body or blood.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Kiljack growled in your ear.

You opened your mouth to speak.

“You’re in my seat,” Messor said, the words echoing off the walls as he materialized from the shadows. His tone was dangerously mild. He stalked up the stairs toward you.

You started to move, but Kiljack held you tightly against him. “About time you got here,” the moff said. “I was getting bored giving the tour. Maybe we can move on to something more exciting.”

**

You sat up with a strangled gasp, your head pounding. Another unfamiliar bed, but when you looked down, you were covered in blankets. You peeked underneath, finding yourself still dressed in your thin tanktop and uniform pants. You ached, like you’d been in a fight. But there wasn’t pain between your legs, a small, but important reassurance. The inside of your mouth felt like a stable floor and you winced as you looked around, the dim lights still aggravating your eyes.

It was a large elegant bedroom, the furniture silver with red trim. It was neat, but it felt lived in, not a guest room. You started to look around, but your vision swam. Holding your head, you gave yourself a moment before trying to focus.

Yesterday was an absolute sarlaac snarl. You’d been sent off on a poorly-planned suicide mission, and your reactions were...wrong. Judging by how awful you felt right now, you’d been drugged. You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to analyze each location step by step. You started feeling ill in Darth Thanaton’s presence, but you neither ate nor drank there. Maybe he did have some secret force brainwashing powers, but that was unlikely. That ability was too subtle for a bombastic coot like him.

...The stims. Something had been wrong with the stims. Fixer 3 wasn’t being a smart ass. Fixer 3 had been trying to warn you. Echuta! It had been right there in front of your face and you were too distracted and arrogant to notice.

You growled, throwing the blankets off. You tried to stand, but found you were still too dizzy.

“Well, I’m glad to see that you’re feeling better.”

You blinked.

Just off to the side, nestled between a wardrobe and a table, sat Moff Kiljack. There was a blanket on his lap and a blaster pistol on the table. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, before he stood, fully dressed, though his jacket was unbuttoned. A faint dusting of stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked you over. “That’s better.” He tapped his left temple. “You’re not so loud any more.” He gave a sigh that sounded a lot like relief. “I know that wasn’t entirely your fault. You were out of your head. The medical droid analyzed what was in your system, if you’re curious.”

“Someone sabotaged my stims,” you said, resting your head on your knees. “Someone in Imperial Intelligence.”

Moff Kiljack nodded. “Makes sense. You also had a bad concussion, cracked ribs, and some bruising. The kolto pack helped a little, but a localized injection sped it up.”

“Thank you,” you said, even if you were not so sure that you were grateful to be saved. Because you still had a lot of questions about what was going on, why these two “enemies” had put so much research into your accomplishments, and how much they knew about Darth Thanaton’s intentions.

You closed your eyes, knowing a few things already:

Moff Kiljack and Lord Messor had a complex relationship; this was likely Kiljack’s room and Messor would not keep it for him if they were really enemies. You needed to figure out the exact nature of their alliance and how much of that infamous enmity was a smokescreen. They worked too well in tandem for all of that showboating to be real.

Keeper was now actively trying to kill you. It would be very difficult to tamper with the stims otherwise. Thanaton was probably meant to be the instrument of your death. He was old, powerful, and no one would bat an eye over a Darth executing a Cipher.

The sensitivity was getting worse. Once it had been an asset, just enough insight to give you an advantage. Now it was opening you up to too many other things. And you lived in the capital city of the Empire, where so many hungry Sith congregated. No, this was bad for you. Kiljack was right, you needed to shore up those shields, and hide yourself better. Anything less would get you shipped off to Korriban.

“Can you hold down food?” Kiljack asked, suddenly standing beside the bed. He set a glass of water on the night stand.

“Not sure. Thank you.” You eyed it for a moment, knowing that he could have slipped any manner of drug in there, but at this point, what choice did you have? They needed you for something, and that meant they probably needed you alive and functional. You took the water, sipping it slowly.

The moff watched you like a hawk, probably worried that you were going to choke or throw up.

You studied him, noting his bare hands. There were scars on them, but it looked like the bite marks had healed. “Sorry about biting you last night,” you said. Apologizing seemed like a good idea. It would be wisest if they thought you were docile and amenable to them. You still weren’t certain that you were going to thank him for sparing your life. But you were a little more confident that they weren’t planning on torturing you to death. Not immediately, anyway.

“You need to be more careful with those teeth,” he said, without a hint of inflection, that handsome scarred face stoic once more.

You stared at him for a second, a moment of deja vu. You shrugged. “I need to be more careful, period.” You dropped back onto the pillows, another wave of dizziness skewing your balance.

The moff picked up a personal comm. “Echo, let Messor know that our guest is awake, and have something mild brought up from the kitchens for her.” He glanced over at you. “I can send for the medical droid.”

“You already had me checked out, right?” You asked, staring up at the stone tiled ceiling.

“Yes. There was a small amount of bleeding in your skull. We took care of it. It can provide some painkillers and anti-nausea meds if you want.”

We took care of it.

That was an interesting way to phrase it. The medical droid might have accomplished it on its own, though the procedure would be more invasive.

“I think I should go for the anti-nausea meds,” you said, one hand over your eyes. “But if you give me a minute, I can try to get upright and-”

“Just stay there,” Kiljack said. “Messor will be along shortly. Finish your water.”

You sighed and downed the rest of the glass, spilling a little down your chin, and not really caring because your head hurt.

**

The comm unit chimed and Kiljack stepped out of the bedroom. When he returned, he was carrying a large platter of flatbread, grilled fish, and some fruit. There was a small glass of anti-nausea medication too. He set it all on the nightstand and poured you another glass of water from the carafe.

Your stomach rumbled, so you took a few berries and ate them slowly, letting the sweetness roll down your throat. You downed the medication in one shot.

When everything stayed down, you took a few more berries, and then a piece of bread, passing on the sauce, just in case.

Kiljack settled back down in his chair, watching your every move.

You had taken a break from trying to eat, when there was a knock. It was distant, and you realized this bedroom was probably part of a suite. Kiljack got up, giving you a stern look.

You pretended not to see. You were still too messed up to make a run for it, and even if you did manage to escape, where would you go? Keeper was trying to kill you. Thanaton was not going to be happy about Prince. And Nar Shaddaa with its flashing lights and cacophony of sounds, would give you a migraine bad enough to make your head explode. You could stay here in the comfortable bed for a moment. You needed a more accurate picture of the situation, before you did anything rash. You did not need a repeat of last night.

“No, it’s fine, I don’t have to get back to the fleet, I’ll just stay here and babysit your new pet spy,” Kiljack said sharply as he returned and practically threw himself into his chair.

Lord Messor followed, still in those sweeping red and black Sith robes, that stylized skull mask in place. The Sith had several skull motifs, though to be honest, his reminded you a little of the Mandalorian mythosaur skull symbol, without the horns.

“I’m glad to see that you’re feeling better,” Lord Messor stood in the doorway. There was a slight mechanical quality to his voice that you had not noticed last night. The mask had a built-in vocoder then. Interesting.

“My lord,” you said, attempting a bow at the waist and feeling your head swoop dangerously close to your knees.

“Don’t-” He sighed. “We can do this informally, Cipher. You’re still recovering from your ordeal.”

You nodded, wincing as you leaned back into the pillows. “I appreciate that, my lord.”

“We’re in private, Cipher. You can forego the title as well.”

Thankfully, you were already lying down, because otherwise you would have fallen over in shock. You had never actually expected to hear a Sith lord say that. After Thanaton, it was a pleasant reversal. But you did not trust that magnanimity.

If Messor and Kiljack knew about the “extra” missions you did, then they had to have a fairly accurate psychological profile of you. They had to know that people who forced you into bad situations ended up having freak accidents. Being polite was just a good way to manage you. You had no illusions about the altruistic natures of moffs and Sith lords. But you could appreciate the effort and you would work with good manners. This was certainly better than spending an hour being shouted at by Darth Thanaton.

You waited for one of the men to speak. They were the ones who wanted you here, after all.

“You were recently tasked by Darth Thanaton to sabotage our strategic efforts on Hoth and Voss. You were assigned to Darth Thanaton by Imperial Intelligence, but that does not mean Imperial Intelligence condones his actions. However, as Thanaton is a member of the Dark Council, politics must come into play.” Messor’s hands twitched. He wasn’t wearing the gauntlets today. He had large hands, dark skin, and thick callouses, probably from handling weapons.

“So someone in Imperial Intelligence tipped you off?”

“Your...Keeper saw fit to warn me,” Kiljack said, fingers steepled.

You frowned. “But not Lord Messor.”

“I think you’ve already figured out that Messor and I are...exaggerating our feud.” Kiljack gave a wry smile. “But that is very guarded knowledge.”

“Yes,” you nodded, and then winced, because you did not need to be bobbing your injured head like an idiot bird. Your brain had taken enough of a blending.

A secret political alliance gave them an interesting cover and access to a wider range of intelligence. But Moff Kiljack did not have the wealth and prestige that Lord Messor did. He would be at a fundamental disadvantage. A Sith lord was not likely to trust anyone outside their control. There were a lot of disadvantages to this tactic and you could not see a clear payoff. You sat with that for a moment. There was an important reason for their ruse, though you doubted they would tell you anything but a plausible cover story today. But the layout of the game started to form. You looked at the empty spaces, trying to find the details that didn’t make sense.

...There it was. There was a third party in play, aiding and abetting this ruse. Someone with enough clout to help Kiljack get his promotion. Someone that even Keeper did not want to cross...

Another Dark Council member then. And given Kiljack and Messor’s military interests and mostly low-key behavior, you had a good idea whom that Council Member was, though again, not why they were using this exact ruse. But if Kiljack’s patron was who you thought it was, you did not blame Keeper for wanting to stay on his good side.

But you were also pretty sure that you were not supposed to survive that meeting with Thanaton yesterday. The exchange would go something like this:

“Send me another minion, peon!”

“I’m so sorry, your Decrepit-ness, you killed my only available agent and we’re very shorthanded! There’s no one else to send. You’ll have to wait.”

Keeper would be off the hook with Thanaton and Kiljack’s patron. You would be dead. Three problems solved.

Except you were alive, and no problems were solved. You looked up to see Kiljack studying your face.

“Do you suspect that Keeper knows the feud is fabricated?”

“No. That’s very exclusive knowledge,” Messor said without a trace of doubt.

You wondered how he could be so confident – not because he wasn’t ruthless – but because your business was secrets: keeping them, stealing them, rooting them out. If people wanted information badly enough, they would find a way to get it. No matter how well you thought you covered your tracks. Your stomach soured a little at that thought. They’d figured out some of your secrets. You’d have to return the favor, if only for your own pride. And maybe some leverage.

“So you want to recruit me as a double agent against Thanaton,” you said.

“Partially,” Messor admitted. “But I had a more permanent offer in mind for you.” He cleared his throat. “My current intelligence chief will be retiring soon. You were recommended to us.”

You blinked. “I can’t just quit Imperial Intelligence, believe me, I’ve tried,” you blurted out.

“You can if you have the right patronage,” Kiljack said. And he had some experience there, having gone from Sith apprentice to moff.

“You want me to help you bring down Thanaton, get you onto the Dark Council, and then you’ll hire me?” Your lips twitched at that tall order. Sith expectations.

“I will hire you now as a house intelligence agent, at double your current pay with all the usual amenities one expects from the well-to-do estate of a Sith lord,” Messor said. “Promotion to intelligence chief pending results.”

That would have been extremely generous, except Imperial Intelligence was criminally cheap. Sure you had some good benefits, but they didn’t have to be competitive when their employees literally weren’t allowed to quit. Still, it was not a bad offer. Better than a lot of the alternatives.

Messor continued. “Handling Thanaton and the Council are longer term problems. If we succeed on Hoth and Voss, I will have enough clout to extract you intact from the employ of Imperial Intelligence. And it will be easier since you’re already assigned to me: possession is nine tenths of the law.”

You sat with that for a few seconds. You could play the long game, letting Thanaton think you had wormed your way into Messor’s confidence. That would sit well with Keeper – it kept him out of the hotseat. You could go back to Keeper and see which way he wanted you to go – for intel purposes only - and then do whatever you wanted anyway. You could say no outright, and get shot in the head by Kiljack…

“You have questions,” Messor said, still keeping his distance.

“How long have you been tracking me? And what brought me to your attention?”

“A man once called “Sparrow” recommended you to us a year ago. He is around here if you want to catch up later.”

You sighed, of course Sparrow was still alive. That explained a lot. He knew you well enough to guess which missions you had purposefully altered. He knew your expertise well enough to conjecture methodology. That he shared this information with a strange Sith lord should not have surprised you entirely. The former Cipher 7 was a skilled assassin; he’d been declared KIA with his brother two years ago. But it seemed he had found a safe haven here.

“His brother?”

“Didn’t want to work with us. No one was going to force him. He took a shuttle to Yavin 4. Sparrow visits him occasionally,” Kiljack said.

“Why me?” You asked, not because you doubted your abilities, but because you still did not quite understand how this coalition worked.

Messor was silent for a moment. “You are a reasonable woman. And looking at your track record, we thought your methods would align with ours.”

“And why do you think that?” You asked.

“The Rancor Incident,” Kiljack said with a smirk.

You kept your face neutral.

“Lord Vilhus was there, a very nasty individual. But the casualty list also included Ieyak the Butcher, Margrene the Bloody, General Arus, Enso Chain-Maker, and Lord Casten. Coincidentally, none of the slaves, servers, or civilian bystanders were hurt. And everyone thought it was just a terrible accident. That took planning, skill, and finesse.”

You stared at your lap, trying to remember if any of those people had good or bad ties to House Messor. Vilhus wasn’t anyone’s friend and Arus wasn’t related. Casten might have attended the Academy at the same time as Messor. You pondered that connection.

Because once you’d had a close...friend, a lower ranking analyst in Imperial Intelligence. A smart and pretty Twi’lek who didn’t deserve the things Lord Vilhus did to her. Lord Vilhus was a Sith lord and could do as he pleased to those weaker than him. So when you saw him there and that rancor… It was just an opportunity.

You looked up to see Kiljack studying you intently. “None of them were allies to House Messor or myself,” he told you.

“Am I...broadcasting?” You asked, trying to make sure your mind was quiet.

“No, it’s just the next logical question,” Kiljack said. He cleared his throat. “But there’s something else we need to address.”

“You’re a Sensitive,” Messor said.

You winced. Of course they’d picked that up yesterday. “A little. Nothing kinetic level, just intuitive boosts every now and again. Came along later in life.” Though it still might be enough to get you sent to Korriban. And now they knew. Which was a manageable thing. You knew about their fake feud, they knew about your force sensitivity. Mutually-assured destruction ensured that the balance of power remained less complicated.

Messor nodded. “Kiljack is very good at shielding. You should consult him about how to better protect your mind.”

Kiljack gave Messor a side-eyed squint, but did not protest.

Accept the offer, take a hard job, and maybe get out from under Keeper’s thumb. Or decline and end up dead. It wasn’t much of a choice.

“What do I have to do to sign on?” You asked.

**

Different Sith lords had their ways of ensuring loyalty, or at least compliance. You had undergone years of conditioning to be kept under the authority of Imperial Intelligence. A lot of that conditioning had come undone in your term as an active operative. You had worked hard to slough the restraints that would have otherwise hobbled your thinking. They might have had your service, but your mind was your own. Ciphers had a lot of leeway to run operations as they saw fit, because an obedient drone could not do their job. But there were still ticks, involuntary habits ingrained in your mind, pathways worn in by years of unpleasant reinforcement. Oh, you weren’t loyal to Imperial Intelligence, but you knew to instantly bow your head to a “superior,” to mask your emotions with a lie, and that the mission came first at the expense of all else... You knew these things in your bones, because of the conditioning. And you understood intimately how those rituals did psychological damage.

So when Lord Messor stepped into the room and drew closer, you prepared yourself for something unpleasant.

“Give me your hand, the flesh one.”

Permanently, or just to hold? You wanted to ask, but you kept your mouth shut and extended your right hand. He took it gently between his palms. His skin was warm and rough. You swallowed, preparing to be overwhelmed by your reaction to the Sith.

The world turned black.

Then heat and light poured into your skull, a waterfall rushing through you, and you screamed under the torrent. It cut through your perception, and tethered something in your head, to that little spot of intuition that always knew when a weapon was being drawn or when someone was lying to you. That metaphysical aperture expanded, wedged open by the hooks of Messor’s connection. He was in your head, and for a moment, you were face down on the dining room table, those claws tracing along your spine while he pinned you there, while you squeezed your thighs together, squirming at his touch…

Then you felt the weight on your left arm, felt Messor squeeze your right hand, and you forced your eyes open.

Kiljack held you to the bed, your left hand pinned over your head.

You could feel Messor through the force. He was in your mind, had his own private backdoor in, a new sort of violation. And that realization enraged you. Snarling, you thrashed, “You bastard! Get the hell out of my head!”

“If you shield well, I can’t see what’s in your head,” he said calmly. “And I won’t go looking.”

Cursing, you lunged at him, but Kiljack held you down, his full weight on your body.

“It’s not mind control, it’s a minor force bond,” Messor said, tone even.

So this was how he kept Kiljack in line. And you had just willingly submitted yourself to the same treatment. Maybe death was preferable. Fury overtook you and you tried to throw Kiljack off you. When he didn’t budge, you sunk your teeth into Kiljack’s shoulder.

He jerked, then braced himself, hand tightening on your throat. “I thought I told you to be more careful with those teeth,” he rasped, pupils huge.

You waited for the leash or the neural bolt.

It’s not a leash. It goes both ways. And it fades with time. Messor said quietly in your head. Also, if you keep biting Kiljack, he’s going to choke you out.

Groaning, you released the moff, feeling his fingers begin to loosen around your neck. You kriffing piece of sarlaac scum! I’m going to feed you your teeth!

“I hope you’re talking to Messor, because you’re not in any position to threaten me,” Kiljack said gruffly, running his thumb over your throat, before letting go of your neck.

“You’re on the list too, don’t worry,” you hissed.

Messor released your hand, a hint of amusement in his aura. “Get some rest, Thirteen. We can talk more later.”

I know so many annoying drinking songs from dozens of planets. I will be screaming them into your skull all night!

“Charming,” Kiljack said, rubbing his temple. He glanced down at his ripped jacket and glared at you. “If you’re going to be a nuisance, you can go crawl into someone else’s bed, because-”

There was the ghost of a memory, a shirtless Kiljack laughing as he lay in the bed, another man pinned under him, like you had been, a flash of heat pulsed between your thighs-

Messor inhaled sharply.

Kiljack pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you-” He pushed his hair back, suddenly very tired. “Just go. Your proximity is probably making things more difficult.”

“Your shoulder,” Messor said softly, he stepped out of the room and returned with a medkit.

You watched silently as Messor carefully cleaned Kiljack’s wound, and treated it with kolto.

Kiljack leaned into Messor’s hands, his head resting against Messor’s shoulder, and it clicked.

There was more than one reason why Kiljack did not betray Messor, one you had not anticipated. You gave a dry laugh, how utterly ridiculous. These stories never ended well for the Sith or their lovers. Suddenly very drained, you dropped back into the pillows.

Rest.

I hope you get eaten by a gorryl slug, you bastard. You pictured the giant carnivorous slugs of Kashyyyk, arboreal hunters that dropped onto their prey and were nearly impossible to pry off. They would exude digestive juices and slowly digest their victims. An unlucky person could take a very long time to die.

What are those- oh that is awful. I’ll have to remember that one. A low laugh in the back of your skull. Kiljack is very good at shielding. He will help you if you ask, nicely.

I’m going to gut you like a ghest.

Get some rest, Thirteen. You’ll have plenty of time to threaten me later.

[walkwithheroes84]

Saved By the Bell (2020) Thoughts

 When the original Saved by the Bell ended in 1992, I was still in elementary school and certainly hadn’t watched it’s first run. But over the years - via repeats - it has become something of a comfort show for me, that I turn to when I’m feeling down or just need something cheesy to chill out to. So, hen I heard about a reboot on the Peacock network, I was unsure. 

Now, having finished the ten episode season in just two days, I’m really hoping people give this show a chance. It knows what it is and what it is the child of and it lovingly pokes fun at and embraces it. All while actually showing real issues that people are facing today.

Here are my real-time after thoughts on each episode. Warning for spoilers. 

1.01: Pilot

Zack becoming Governor to get out of a parking ticket and then having no idea what to do is a very Saved by the Bell plot line. But, I love that he's not getting away with doing a bad job and the people of California actually seem to be upset with him. Also random, but - I wonder if Kelly is a doctor and why she hasn't kicked Zack to the curb if he's become such a skeevy person? I guess it is true love.

Jessie and Slater and still adorable, even as platonic friends. However, it's sad that she's kept her son so dependent on her and that it appears that Slater peeked in high school.

Lexi and Mac would be completely unlikeable if played by anyone other than Josie Totah and Mitchell Hoog. Right now, they are just unlikeable, but could grow as the series goes on.

Devante and Aisha are good and I look forward to their characters being explored more.

Daisy is fine, but I don't think she's a strong enough character to be the "lead". Many reviews have called her the "lead" and the "character viewers follow the most" and I'm not sure the character is strong enough for that. Haskiri Velazquez is capable in her role and is doing fine, but the character is a bit bland at the moment.

Principal Toddman: finally a principal that is trying to make a difference and isn't bumbling around and letting the students get away with anything.

The "running for school president" story felt straight out of the old series, with Lexi and Mac doing it for a parking space. But, I liked that in the end (it was 2 days show time and just 30-something minutes our time) they only let Daisy have the job because they didn't want to give up their spring break - not because they learned any sort of real lesson.

From previews I was a little worried that they might try and go with a Mac/Daisy pairing, and I really glad that it doesn't look that way. Yes, it feels like they might pair them down the road (if the show gets a season 2 and beyond), but for now Daisy seems more annoyed with him and Mac seems indifferent to her. It looks like the show might go with Jamie/Aisha, which could work.

1.02: Clubs and Cliques 

The theater clique is basically so cliché that its amusing. I love that they were all desperate to get Devante involved and keep him in the group chat, but he was just so disinterested. Lexi's line that she would fall for him if he kept ignoring her? Ha.

Jamie's inability to basically function as a normal fifteen/sixteen year old is alarming. The fact that he couldn't tell he is bad at football and that he makes raw food? Like, Jessie, who did you raise? That said, the football team having a "Feelings Helmet" was just amusing to me. The Bayside students are just so over the top insane.

There is a large part of me that wonders what the heck happened in the raising of Mac. Kelly had six siblings. She was raised in a working class family. I can't see her raising her son to be this entitled brat who apparently calls her stupid. And, I honestly can't see Zack allowing his son to end up an idiot who just floats through life.

But, I guess that's the point of the series: the Bayside students are all clichés and over the top archetypes of rich kids. None of them are really all that likeable and I find myself rooting for Devante, Daisy, and Aisha while wanting Mac, Lexi, and Jamie to grow up.

1.03: The Bayside Triangle

Knowing that Jamie and Lexi have been friends since they were little kids and she now has a crush on him and doesn't know how to handle it? Very relatable and makes me like her a bit more. She's right - for a lot of reasons, it can be weird to have an old friend like you.

Aisha trying so hard to fit in with the Bayside students is a bit sad, actually. It feels like she's giving up a part of herself to be who they think she should be.

Mac and Jamie's fight felt like it was straight out of the original series.

It's sad to know that Zack and Slater are no longer friends. I wonder why.

Devante is totally my favorite at this point. He just wants a fresh start and it's sad that Aisha and Daisy suspected him of wrongdoing because of his past.

Again, the fact that the students do all this weird stuff and no one at the school seems to notice or care . . .I feel that is purely making fun of the original show, but I love it.

1.04: The Fabulous Birchwood Boys

Lexi and Devante need to become best friends and stay best friends forever. Let's keep it platonic and fabulous. Also, his friends from his neighbor? I need to see more of those boys.

Jamie and Mac Freshmen year? Dorky as all get out. Lexi's fear that no one would like her. So heartbreakingly real.

Daisy having access to money for one day and becoming an entitled monster...that also felt very real. And, I'm really glad that she didn't take the easy way out and said she was sorry to the other members.

Since Mac never even asked Post Malone and since he got the other kids back - I'm starting to think the kid has more depth and empathy than I originally gave him credit for. That or Daisy is rubbing off on him. If they did Daisy/Mac down the road, I think it could work.

I felt so sorry when Lexi realized that Jamie had asked Aisha. I think they are headed for a Lexi/Jamie/Aisha love triangle, and I have to say that while I see Lexi/Jamie (because of her crush), I don't see Jamie/Aisha just yet.

Finally, Slater obsessing over the gym floors? He really did become a stereotype of a gym coach.

1.05: Rent-A-Mom

Jessie still having anxiety about caffeine and knocking what she thought was caffeine pills away from Mac was great.

Speaking of which - poor Jessie and her marriage. :( How did she end up with such a wishy-washy husband?

Slater and Aisha bonding while trying to making the team tougher was great. I cannot believe Jamie gives heartfelt speeches before games. What the hell, man? They really are pushing Jamie as the "sensitive man-child".

Jamie also mentioned that he was starting to like Aisha, but I still don't really see it. Am I alone in this? A start of a friendship, sure. But, a romance within the next few episodes - that would move too fast. Then again, it is a "teen show" and romance on those tend to move quickly.

Lexi and Mac trying to help Daisy was kind-of sweet in a weird sort of way. I like the looks into the home lives of the gang. It gives us a better understand of who they are as people.

1.06: Teen-Line

DeVante clearly facing racism and even classism at Bayside was really well done. I love that Lexi was ready to help him, because he has become such a great friend to her. Those two have really bonded and I love it.

Mac becoming a payphone, but not realizing it kind of made me smile. But what was even better was the way the school completely went into chaos after the students lost their phones. It couldn't have been more than three hours and the school already looked like a deleted scene from a post-apocalyptic film. Oh, and Mac using the rope to get in and out of the room, while the rest of the group used the door. . .loved it.

Aisha and Jamie. . .I feel like she's with him because he's attractive and sweet. There doesn't seem to be any real depth to their relationship. Though to be fair, there isn't much depth to Jamie's character - he's a satellite love interest to Aisha and Lexi.

1.07: House Party

Lexi finally seeing that she is a good (or at least better) person? I like that she is growing. Out of all the characters, I think she has gotten the most character growth (out of the kids) this season.

So. . .Mac does all his schemes because he's scared of being abandoned by the people he cares about and feels neglected by his parents? It's cliché, but. . .okay.

I'm still not really feeling Aisha/Jamie, but I'm not hating it. The relationship lacks depth, so I'm not terribly invested. But, I'm sure if I went back and watched any of the TNBC shows (without my nostalgic glasses on) those romances won't have much depth either.

Daisy trying to go wild, but instead having to be locked in a closet and making out with a coat? Eh, I get that they were poking fun at the darker and "edgy" teen soaps, but, eh.

Slater really grew during the episode and realized that it's time to leave high school behind and start acting like a real adult, and I'm proud of him.

1.08: The Todd Capsule 

Lark looked amazing. I'm so happy that she is doing so well these days.

So now we know where Screech is: on the Space Station with Kevin the Robot.

I was actually sad to learn that Kelly didn't follow her dream of becoming an actual doctor and is instead selling a fake wellness brand or some nonsense. Though, I will admit the Zack/Kelly scenes had me giggling a bit. They have become so shallow and weird, but I'm living for it. And when Zack said she was the only woman he's ever been with? That was a great jab, at least to me, at the way teen shows always do the "one true pairing" thing.

So glad Jessie now knows that Slater still has feelings for her. Can't believe her husband is having an emotional affair with one of his characters. This show can be so ridiculous.

The time capsule was a great addition to the episode, especially as they remembered all the plots that didn't make sense or were just weird: Jessie's caffeine addiction, putting on a ballet so Zack could graduate, saving a hotel in Hawaii.

How dare the gang (expect Lisa, who is a Queen) not remember Ron-Ron!

I hate - hate - that the PTA basically went behind everyone's back and is going to use the money to send the Douglas children back to their school. Yes, they can use the money to buy new things, but they will still have issues in that school. It's pure racism and classism.

Devante having a crush on Nadia (I think that's her name?) is super cute.

Loved Lexi and Daisy bonding and Lexi seeing that sometimes guilting people into things works just as well as being fake-nice. Though, you think she would have learned that by now.

So, Mac has always struck me as a character that is straight out of a 90s teen sitcom, and he still acts that way. But, I love that the show is trying to show some depth to him: he's acting out for attention from his dad. He has modeled his whole personality after his dad's high school personality in order to get attention. It's a storyline that has been done a million times (and will be done a million more times), but it fits his character.

1.09: All in the Hall

The Douglas principal saying that every few years people try and come in to "save" the school ,but than get bored and leave, because they've already gotten what they want - to feel good about themselves? Yeah, I felt that. It was so true to life, the way people rush into some new cause and than abandon it once they have gotten praise or its no longer trendy.

So happy to see Principal Toddman standing up Jade and sticking up for his students. He and Devante should have more scenes together. I like how they play off one another. I really just love Devante - he's probably my favorite.

Aisha finding a way to stay at the school via sports was very smart, but I can also see how Daisy would see it as selfish. Aisha does have a way of thinking about herself first and than others after. I think that has to do with her ultracompetitive nature - she wants to win, even if it mean leaving others behind.

Jamie got a bit more depth in this episode - finally. It was sweet that he wanted Aisha to stay, despite only having dated her for six weeks or so. He went about it completely wrong, but it was sweet. It's good that he sees that he's more emotionally intelligent than anything else.

The Aisha/Jamie stuff - eh. I never felt it to begin with, so it was no big. I'm glad that they sort of acknowledged that while he loves her, she just likes him and it was a relationship built more on physical attraction and sweet moments than anything else. I mean, they are fifteen.

Mac and Lexi feeling empathy and trying to help Daisy was nice. It's clear that they have both grown to care about Daisy (and Devante and to a lesser degree Aisha). I also enjoyed the small tease of Mac/Lexi with them both agreeing that they would totally hook up, because they are both so hot. Who doesn't love two shallow people admitting they are shallow? Though, I still think the writers are slowly - maybe - setting up something with Mac/Daisy. Maybe. Possibly.

I laughed out loud when Daisy ran into Jean (or is it Dave?) at city hall and he just kept denying that they had met before, but they clearly had.

Daisy's breakdown and her nearly doing drugs and the group hug - complete with Jamie discussing some random talent show we never saw (a jab at the original show airing episodes out of order?) - was just so classic teen sitcom. I loved that they pulled back from that by showing Mac reaching for the joint during the group hug.

1.10: Showdown

Overall the season was much better then I thought it would be and I'm really hoping that they are able to work in a season 2. I don't know if they could do several seasons, but I think they could probably do 2-3 more seasons of 8-10 episodes each. They still have a lot to focus on: relationships, class differences, the fall of the Morris family, Jessie's marriage breaking down and how that plays out with Jamie and even Slater, etc.

I really liked the two throw away lines of: Zack asking "Remember Tori?" and Kelly responding with a confused: "Huh?" and then Kelly quickly telling Mac that his father is not Jeff.

I wouldn't say Zack learned a valuable lesson, so much as he realized that he only wanted to stay Governor because he didn't want to be a loser. Which I guess is a lesson in a way, but he's still a bit of a slime ball.

I'm so glad that Slater told Jessie he was sorry for teasing her in high school because she protested and that he's happy today's teenagers are more willing to speak out about their beliefs. And, I'm even happier that Jessie stood up to her stupid and selfish husband.

Aisha and Daisy ganging up on Devante and than realizing that the clicks at school need a common enemy was great. What was better was Lexi, who has had the most character grown this season, willingly becoming the scapegoat.

Mac still needs to work on his daddy issues, but he's getting there. Hopefully he and his parents can really bond during quarantine.

Jamie telling Lexi that the only reason he wasn't sure if he wanted to date her was because she's been mean in the past was very sweet. Do I think the show is headed for Lexi/Jamie? Yes. Do I think it will last? No.

I still have a feeling that, at some point, they will do a Mac/Daisy pairing. Or at the very least have Mac develop a crush on Daisy, which will be interesting to see.

Other thoughts: I love that the show was able to poke fun at the clichés, corniness, and weirdness of all the late 80s-early 00s teen sitcoms/dramas that people my age grew up on; while at the same time exploring current day issues, without getting too preachy or pushy. They used pop culture well, without it feeling overly done. Someone else has mentioned in several threads that the show reminds them of the show Community, and I have to agree - it really does have an "early" Community vibe to it. I know a lot of shows are being cancelled or not renewed due to Covid, but I really do hope they give this one a second season. I really want to see where they go next.  

Cast List:

Main Haskiri Velazquez as Daisy Jiménez Mitchell Hoog as Mac Morris Josie Totah as Lexi Haddad-DeFabrizio Alycia Pascual-Peña as Aisha Garcia Belmont Cameli as Jamie Spano Dexter Darden as Devante Young John Michael Higgins as Principal Ronald Toddman Elizabeth Berkley Lauren as Jessie Spano Mario Lopez as A.C. Slater

Recurring Mark-Paul Gosselaar as Zack Morris Tiffani Thiessen as Kelly Morris Ed Alonzo as Max Cheyenne Jackson as René

Guest Lark Voorhies as Lisa Turtle

[makeitcanoncowards]

Your Lipstick Stain is a Work of Art [Nicky Valentino x MC]

Nicky Valentino x Fem!Reader

Literally no one requested this, but I just had to do it. I am in love with this man. Also If you like this you should go follow my friend @hurtbycanonthoughts​! She takes requests and posts writing for Obey Me, Mystic Messenger, Cinderella Phenomenon, Two Against the World, Love Island the Game, and more! I love her lots, so go show her some love too :D Here’s her masterlist

| My Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Ao3 | Commissions |

Summary: You get a little more familiar with makeup in the 20s, and Nicky finds himself really liking the look of you in red lipstick. Bonus: Lipstick marks on his cheek are his no.1 soft spot.  Word Count: 2.2k  Warnings: a tiny bit suggestive but not really like at all. 

You’ve been in 1920’s New York for almost two months now and were still trying to acclimate to the fashion of the era. Certain styles you’ve had a harder time working yourself up to wear (like tights every day, why every day?), and others you just haven’t gotten around to trying out. But all in all, you were pretty pleased with your new 20th century wardrobe. The skirts and dresses you wore were extremely durable and actually surprisingly flattering. The iconic boxy cut that you heard so much about in your high school history classes proved to be beautiful on all body types, something you appreciated greatly.

One afternoon, while Nicky was dealing with some business that he didn’t want you there for, you were free to meander around the city – Even do a little shopping, thanks to the way your coin purse was spoiled by your boyfriend. 

As you passed by a fancy boutique during your afternoon adventure, you were immediately drawn in. Stopping to stare, you gazed at the fresh paint that adorned the windows, advertising the makeup they sold inside. While also taking notice of the boutique’s patrons flowing in and out. All the women that entered looked as though they ate gold for breakfast and had hundred-dollar bills for lunch. They oozed an aura of wealth and you began doubting your place in their store. You could afford anything you wanted in there and more, sure, but the sheer confidence that radiated from them was a little intimidating. You feared they’d smell your inferiority from a mile away. 

It took a quick mental pep talk – and a lap or two around the block – to convince yourself to enter the store. Gipping onto your purse just a little tighter, you braved the crowd of posh women gliding through the entrance and slipped in as well.

“Hello!” A young girl at a counter with makeup fixtures littering it greeted, “How may I help you today?”

“I’m just looking around, actually.” You stated, glancing back around the interior, “I’ve never been in this store before.”

“Well, might I just suggest you take a look at our makeup collection. It’s what we’re most well-known for anyways.” The shop girl’s smile was dazzling, though probably painful considering how wide it was and how long she was holding it.

You took a step next to the counter and watched as the girl pointed out some products. Everything seemed pretty standard, except for the block of charcoal that doubled as mascara, and nothing was really catching your eye until-

“What do you think of this for me?” You picked up a golden tube of red lipstick with roses engraved into the casing.

“The Ruby Red?” She glanced at the color and back to you, scanning her eyes over your face. “I’d go for something a little deeper, personally. The bright colors are nice and all, but all the women in movies are wearing darker colors. I think you’d pull that off, you look like you’re straight outta’ve a film.”

You chuckled at her statement. She wasn’t wrong, technically. “I’ll take the color you suggest, then.”

She grinned at you before pulling out a tube nearly identical to the first from behind the counter, “This shade is called ‘Forever Red’ by Besame cosmetics, D’you wanna try it on before you go?”

“I’ll take a preview,” You agreed and puckered your lips for the girl to apply it. She slid the lipstick carefully over your lips, the creamy texture felt similar to a chapstick you used to wear, and it made you oddly nostalgic.

“Wow, it looks even better than I thought it would!” She clapped her hands together once she finished, “You look better than Bebe Daniels did in this shade!”

“You think so?” You asked, astonished. Turning to look in the little mirror sitting to the left of you, okay yea. You looked good. “Y’know what, I think I’ll take it.”

Giddily, you grabbed your tiny giftbag with your lipstick and went back to your hotel room for the night. Nicky had promised he would be there to take you out for dinner, and you wanted to surprise him with a bit of red added to your look.

<><><> 

You had just finished slipping on your silk – or was it satin, you couldn’t be sure – dress over your tights and undergarments; hair and makeup already done. You took a moment to fumble with the zipper on your gown but weren’t able to zip it up completely. After struggling for a good few minutes after your initial attempt, you blew out a frustrated puff of air and looked at your reflection in the vanity you were sat in front of.

All-in-all, you looked good. You took extra care of your hair tonight. It was gelled to perfection, not a single frizz out of place. And your makeup – it took you nearly double the time it used to, but the time commitment was worth it. The dark red lip that you just bought contrasted with the silver and black on your eyelids and stood out against your gown. Said gown was a silky (or satin-y) pearl color that had a wrapped bodice. Fairly simple. Extremely elegant. It was something Nicky bought you and you adored it.

Taking your time fixing invisible imperfections, you hadn’t noticed Nicky enter your room or the way he had to bite back a chuckle as you bared your teeth at your reflection to insure you didn’t have lipstick marks littering your pearly whites.

You only acknowledged his presence when he cleared his throat and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the intrusion. You whipped around, preparing for the worst since you were not exactly in the right state to fend off an attacker.

“Motherfuc- Nicky!” You slapped a hand over your heart when you realized who it was, “You tryna give me a heart attack?”

“’Course not, doll,” He grinned back at you, “Just tryna keep you on your toes s’all.”

“Since you’re here early, and decided to scare the crap out of me, I’m gonna put you to work.” You smirked at the way Nicky’s eyes widened with your words.

“Anything for you, baby.” He winked, trying to display a confident and cocky attitude. But you noticed the shaky breath he let out before he spoke up.

You stood up, the skirt of your gown brushing against your ankles as you sauntered towards your boyfriend and took pride in the way his jaw went slack at the sight of you. Each step you took was agonizingly slow, but you were basking in the way he raked his eyes over your form. With each second, you could practically see the blood rushing to Nicky’s cheeks. He was bright red by the time you were directly in front of him. When the toe of your heel brushed against his dress shoe, you draped your arms around his neck. The breath caught in his throat at your closeness, and he choked on his next words:

“Is-Is that a new… um… is that a new lipstick, Y/n?” His adam’s apple bobbed as you pressed your body into his. You were looking up at him through your lashes – your lips just a hair’s length apart.

“Mhmm,” You hummed, running a hand down his chest, “It’s called ‘Forever Red’, kinda foxy ain’t it?”

Nicky couldn’t form any words; he was looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. His breathing was heavy, and you could tell he was having a hard time controlling himself. He only took his eyes off your lips to close them and breath a heavy sigh when you moved to whisper in his ear.

“Be a doll and zip me up,” You whispered and placed a kiss right below his cheek bone. You pulled away from Nicky and saw him deflate slightly from the corner of your eye.

“Wh-what?” His eyes were glazed over, “What did you say?”

“Zip me up, will ‘ya?” You let a small stream of laughter erupt from your red lips, “C’mon Nicky we don’t have all night.”

Still caught in a daze, he fumbled with your zipper a few times before he was able to pull it up fully.

“Atta boy,” You grinned, topping your look off with a feather boa and pair of pearly, elbow-length gloves. “So where are we going?”

Nicky finally snapped back to reality from wherever his mind had wandered from before and a cheeky grin had returned to his face, “You are such a minx, you know that?”  

“I learned from the best,” You smiled, wrapping your arm around his outstretched elbow. “Ready to go?”

“Actually, Y/n. We do have to make a quick stop on our way to our date.” Nicky admitted bashfully as you glided through the extravagant hotel hallway, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. “’Nother head of the Family, Schitz, wanted to meet up to discuss his quarrel with some of Floyd’s guys. Asked to do it today. Is it okay if we…?”

“You know I’m all in, Nicky.” You squeezed his arm in reassurance. “I won’t get mad about you having to work. So long as you let me in, you know that.”

Nicky pressed a quick kiss to your temple as you rounded the corner to the exit, “What did I do to deserve a gal like you?”

“Something pretty damn good.”

<><><> 

“Keep the car runnin’ Ralph, we shouldn’t be too long.” Nicky gave a firm nod to his right-hand man and grasped your hand in his. He had tried to ask you to stay in the car during his meeting, considering it shouldn’t be more than ten minutes long, but you were having none of it.

“Nicky come on! This can be part of the date!” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to be at his side whenever you could be. And he, being the simp he was, couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t even want to say no, and that’s how he knew he was absolutely whipped.

Begrudgingly he agreed, though, he refused to let go of your hand. Knowing you were by him at all times alleviated some of his fear with you being part of his family. If you were in, then he was going to make sure everyone knew you weren’t someone to be messed with.

 “Ah, Nicky Valentino!” An older gentleman called from the inside of an empty bar. “Please take a seat.”

Nicky’s expression when he was with you was soft and warm, but when he was dealing with business those same eyes were walled away. Replaced with a stony expression that revealed nothing about what was going on in his brain. It was a look you were getting accustomed to wearing, yourself.

“If we could make this quick, Schitz,” Nicky’s voice was smooth and confident, “I have a previous engagement that I’m anxious to get to.”

“Of course, of course but – ah – what’s that?” Schitz gestured to his cheek, “Got some red shit on your cheek, paint or something?” Your eyes widened briefly when you realized what Schitz was talking about. He was gesturing to the place you had teased/kissed Nicky before you left.

Nicky asked you for the compact mirror from your purse – how he knew it was there was beyond you since you didn’t even know it was there –  and checked his reflection. Once he saw the prominent silhouette of your lips on his cheek in your lipstick, Nicky let out a barking laugh. Your cheeks burned, though; ashamed at having possibly ruined his tough guy image.

“I’m sorry Nicky,” You whispered, taking off your glove and raising your hand to wipe away the mark on his cheek. Before your thumb could make contact with the stain, his hand clasped around your wrist and gently pulled your hand down to his chest.

“Don’t be,” He brushed his lips against your knuckles, “It’s a token of affection, I wouldn’t dare wipe away one of your kisses.”

Your heart thrummed loudly against your ribcage at his words. You could feel every amber of your being slowly fall more in love with him, and there was nothing you could do (not that you wanted to do anything) to stop it.

Eventually, a deep red kiss was the staple of your relationship. The lipstick was the finishing touch to every one of your outfits, and the shade that stained Nicky’s cheek whenever he left the house without you. He was taking a part of you with him on the days you couldn’t come, and everyone knew who you were when you accompanied him wearing the very same shade of red lipstick the next time you left. 

[trashahime]

Takechiyo could be InuKag's unknown son.

I frequently refer to my theory that Takechiyo is actually InuKag's son in disguise and rightfully get a lot of wtf reactions. It's been hard to explain because my theory posts on the matter are short and scattered so this is a comprehensive round up of them and also includes new evidence.

The Q&A format worked so well for the illusion theory posts so I am going to use that again.

I am going to address the most asked question first:

How can a full demon tanuki be the son of a dog hanyo and human?

First, I think Yashahime is all or partially an illusion and that several characters have appearances and/or powers that are different in the real world.

If I am wrong about the illusion theory, it could be that just Takechiyo himself is physically illusioned to look like a tanuki. His powers could be the result of some kind of magical artifact similar to a rainbow pearl.

Or it could be an actual rainbow pearl. The following will be confusing if you are not familiar my Wuxing 5 phases theory. I believe Takechiyo will represent the Wood/Kagome/Konton phase. The Wood phase has two associated colors of scarlet and green and might have two pearls too. While I think Konton has the real pearls associated with Wood, I could be wrong. Jyubei was shown with a large green orb. Maybe Takechiyo has the other "wood" pearl and it's hidden under his "turtle shell". This would be a nice parallel to Moroha having hers in a shell.

Why do think InuKag has a son and that it's Takechiyo?

When I devised my theory that the Perils are representations of the missing parents and connected Tokotsu to Inuyasha, I wondered if Jakotsumaru was an indication that InuKag also had a son.

Takechiyo seemed the most likely candidate for the following reasons:

He has a connection to Hachi who was also entrusted with Moroha. If this theory is true then Hachi was probably also given Takechiyo to hide and protect. That could be why he is disguised.

It's assumed Hachi is his father/relative but Takechiyo was referred to as a "young lord" by Jyūbei, keeping in line with how the InuKag family is referred to as lord and lady. True, Hachi was called an "Elder" but he was officially noted to be Miroku's servant/vassal in Inuyasha promotional extras. That's certainly not lord material.

Admittedly, this is just a personal interpretation, but all of Moroha and Takechiyo's interactions feel like squabbling siblings. Particularly when Takechiyo was bossing her around when she was cleaning the corpse shop. It felt like a little brother getting revenge on a bossy older sister after years of being at her mercy.

Relatedly, Takechiyo seems annoyed but resigned, and at times, indulgent, of Moroha's mistreatment of him. Like a little brother would be.

I think Takechiyo somehow knows they are siblings. I think Moroha knows she has a brother but not that it's Takechiyo. When she was sad about being alone, Takechiyo seemed annoyed as if he was thinking, you have me, even if you don't know it.

What are the clues/evidence?

In my Perils/parents theory, I connect Kagome to Konton. Konton has two fu dogs I think are based on InuKag. I believe the preview pics Yashahime puts out are used for foreshadowing and to convey hints. They choose to release the following picture of the "Kagome" beast, the angle suggests it is a pregnant female with the hint of breasts and a round belly, perhaps hinting she has another child.

In that same episode, we meet Meifuko, who in my illusion theory I think is a composite character representing Shippo and Takechiyo. We have another father/son duo, reflecting Tokotsu/Jakotsumaru. I think they made Takechiyo's flight form resemble a giant turtle so we would associate him with Meifuko. Moroha's interactions with Meifuko were like how she acts with Takechiyo.

Takechiyo, Meifuko and baby Moroha all look very similar.

Two last points involving Meifuko... Sunrise released the following preview pics. One with Meifuko hiding behind Moroha like a scared little sibling would. And another where the siblings Towa and Setsuna are paired together with similar expressions and so are Moroha and Meifuko, in fact their mouths are almost exactly the same.

I think Sunrise is trying to hint at a sibling relationship by often pairing up Moroha and Takechiyo when Towa/Setsuna are. This includes preview pics or additional photos posted on the twitter/website, merch and the occasional plot line.

For example, they were paired up for the dream gazing sequence.

Also, Sunrise made the following merch and I truly believe it's major purpose was to give a hint to the sibling relationship by having Moroha and Takechiyo in the same position as the known siblings.

There's also the sleeping merch where Moroha and Takechiyo are shown with hands balled up by their faces and with open drooling mouths. The latter being shared with Inuyasha.

Another hint is this scene of puffy Takechiyo. It calls to mind the puffy InuKag in the Inuyasha episode with the two young mikos.

Takechiyo is given more importance in merch and promotional material than his role really warrants if he is just minor character/discount Shippo. I think this is because he will be revealed to be more significant than we realize.

His color scheme is associated with the the InuKag family. There's a lot of red in his clothing. The merch is usually brown or green which would be associated with Kagome and the wood phase. Another associations with the latter is in his name which contains the kanji for bamboo.

Maybe a clue but I noticed that Inuyasha has two fingers raised in his website profile pic and I have found that the profile pictures are a treasure trove of hints. Are the two fingers for two children? Probably not but maybe.

Takechiyo has an out of place (time) "shell" phone. Could just be a silly gag. Or maybe Kagome commissioned someone to make a magical cell phone type device. A big deal was made about giving the shell rouge to thier daughter. Maybe they had a "shell" gift for their son too.

In the new opening we see a series of shots of the twins and Moroha sitting on a set of steps. The first shot shows an empty set. This could be a indication of missing children and that someone should be sitting there.

That's it for now. It's admittedly shaky but I have a good feeling about it.

It's also possible that Takechiyo is Shippo if is truly someone in disguise.

Also I am not yet sure if the fact that he could be a Zashiki Warashi is connected to any of this. It's likely though.