#i reserve the right to edit this post if i realize there are any problems

[the-converse-high-top]

Another Käärijä Research Project

aka: käärijä style-shifting project

as a preface, here are my (non) qualifications for this project and the circumstances under which it happened:

I am a linguistics student, and this past semester I took a course on sociolinguistics. the goal of this project was to become familiar with the concept of and analyze style-shifting (it's more commonly known as code-switching online but theres a difference and this is style-shifting), specifically by analyzing the speech of one person. We had the option to study oprah or to have someone else approved by my prof, so you know I had to ask my prof if I could study jere. This project is solely my intellectual property; even though I had a tutor help me a lot, everything written in this paper and on this post was my work alone.

now, on to the actual findings! the full paper and transcripts will be linked at the end :D

the actual variables (words or sounds) that I studied were the pronunciation of r, and use of the word "the".

to make things a lot easier from the get-go, i'm going to introduce you all to one of my favorite websites, ipachart.com (the international phonetic alphabet [ipa] chart is a big chart with an entry for every sound that exists in a language. this handy dandy website has an audio recording for each one of those sounds).

go to this website, and then scroll down to the table. go to the column labeled "post alveolar" and then click on ɾ and ɹ. those are the sounds i studied in this paper! ɾ is the finnish r and ɹ is the american r :)

so basically what i did to find instances of my variable was i just looked up a bunch of esc interviews and listened out for use of the different r sounds. i also transcribed the entire dinner date live because i love torture apparently :) the specific interviews and lives/stories are in the bibliography of the paper :p

after i transcribed all the interviews and lives/stories i went through and highlighted every instance of the r sound. then i calculated the ratios of ɾ to ɹ based on the context they were spoken in. the two contexts i looked for were formal contexts (sit-down interviews) and informal contexts (literally anything else).

i found that jere uses ɹ WAY more often in formal contexts than he does in informal contexts, and the same in reverse with ɾ.

i then went back to the transcripts and looked for all instances of the word "the". i also looked for instances where i thought it should be present, but was omitted. i calculated the ratio of present vs omitted "the"s in formal vs informal contexts and made some charts.

the graph with the smaller black section is "use of 'the' in formal settings" and the one with the smaller green section is "use of 'the' in informal settings" (the images are transparent, sorry)

i found that jere uses "the" WAY more often when in formal settings! there were also some instances where he added a "the" where it was unnecessary, which is studied at length in this wonderful paper by @alien-girl-21

something i also noticed that i elected not to study because this paper took enough energy on its own was that in formal contexts, whenever the "or" sound came in the middle or at the end of a word, jere wouldn't pronounce the r. it stuck out to me mostly because i heard words like "performance" turning into "perfomance", which i thought was an interesting quirk.

unfortunately i was somewhat limited by both my brainpower and capacity to do more work on this paper in the relatively short timeframe i was given (2 weeks) and the fact that i was given a 5 page MAX for this paper (not including a bibliography). i had a lot of fun doing this though and am definitely planning on studying jere for for academic credit again in the future if given the chance!

also i would like it to be known that i spent an hour searching for that 5 second clip of the urheilucast where jere said that he used to sell kitchens and understands english better than he can speak it.

link to a google drive folder with the actual paper i wrote and the transcripts of the interviews with notation:

please feel free to send me asks and dms with questions or comments about this paper! i absolutely love rambling about linguistics :3!!

[draconaiis]

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[bluemingcore]

title: resume

summary: Chan brings his resume for you to review. He actually doesn't care about his resume. He just wants you.

genre: fluff? a little humor, gets kinda sensual; university au

characters: bang chan (stray kids) x reader; gender neutral reader

warnings: none; kinda sensual and suggestive but not explicit

word count: 1,377

a/n: thanks for reading :) i wrote this instead of working on my other wips lol

links: i might post this on my ao3, haven't decided!

Chan didn’t really care about his resume—not at the moment anyways. He sort of already has a job lined up. What he really wanted was to see you. You, the ever kind, lively, enchanting, beautiful, intelligent student academic coach. He knew that’s why other students chose you as their student coach, why your work schedule is always so booked and why it’s hard to even find an available time slot to have a session with you, why some students begrudging have to choose another student coach to have their academic needs (this includes tutoring, resume editing, essay review, etc.) met. He knew this. Which is why he’s sometimes so smug when he hears his friends complaining about how they just wish they could meet with you instead of the other aloof and strict academic coaches. Because he knew you, as more than just an academic coach.

He supposes it was just pure luck that he ended up having several general education classes with you, pure luck that he was paired with you for a group project, pure luck that you two just instantly clicked. Though the two of you were in different departments, had different majors, and even different social circles, he was just lucky you liked him enough to continue hanging out with him, texting him, calling him, sometimes study with him.

Still, those moments weren’t enough for him. He knows he’s greedy for always wanting your attention and time, but he supposes that’s just something he would have to live with. Which was why despite not really needing any academic support, he would always schedule a session to meet with you. You allowed this. You would laugh and smile, maybe even roll your eyes and joke about how next time, you’ll be sure to ban him from scheduling a session. He knows you’re joking of course, but the mirth in your eyes is something he relishes in all the same.

But his relationship with you hasn’t gone further than that. He’s greedy, he knows, so naturally, he wants something more from you. Though it’s hard. You’re often busy. Whether with working as an academic coach, your classes, your extracurriculars, your volunteering, you’re often busy. Sometimes, he would wonder whether you’re too busy to realize his feelings for you. So, he needed to find out. It was his last year at university and graduation is approaching quicker than he can count.

Which was why he had to schedule another academic support session with you.

Chan is in your designated office, which is reserved for academic coaches like you, sitting beside you at the table. Your eyes are focused on the laptop screen in from you, concentrating on reading his resume. He could smell the subtle scent of your perfume, sweet with a musky note. He watches you carefully, your eyes, the way you’re so focused (he thinks it’s cute), the way your mouth moves when you’re reading, the tilt of your head, the fall of your hair. He thought you are simply gorgeous.

Your voice breaks him out of his stupor. “Okay, so right here,” You point at the screen with your finger, “It says that you’re creative.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

You turn to look at him. “Okay, may I know what you create?”

He looks you right in the eye. “Problems.”

You raise your brow. “What kind of problems?”

He smirks and without giving a verbal answer, he grabs your hand and pulls you close to him. His hand rests on the back of your neck, fingers threading through your soft hair, he brings you closer to him, to his lips.

He tastes your lip balm. The strawberry flavor one you always use. He likes the taste. Your lips are sweet and soft, like cotton candy. It was nearly addicting.

Your hands flailed for a moment before landing on his shoulders for support. You were surprised, eyes wide as your lips touched his. This was the last thing you expected in a resume review session with Chan. You didn’t expect his lips to feel so soft. You didn’t expect to like the taste of him, and you definitely didn’t expect yourself to not only kiss back but also to deepen the kiss.

You moved your hands on his chest, pushing him away to take a deep inhale.

Chan gazed at you with a self-satisfied smile. “Problems like this.”

You just stared back, your mind a mess. When you didn’t say anything, he leaned in again, attempting to give you another kiss.

“Wait, wait,” You say, pushing him back. “I-I’m… So confused.”

“What are you confused about?” He gives a short laugh. “I thought I was supposed to be the one being tutored, not the other way around.”

You give him a glare with no bite, shaking your head. “No, no, it’s just—“ You actually aren’t sure how to word it, what to say in this moment, what question was on the tip of your tongue. What was the kiss for? Why did you kiss me? What is it supposed to mean, if anything at all? These are the questions that ran jumbled in your head, but you didn’t know how to say it out loud.

So Chan says it for you. “You mean why’d I kiss you?” He smiles, a damn charming smile. “It’s because I like you, silly. Wasn’t it obvious before?”

Was it obvious before? You actually didn’t know. The goodnight texts, the (what you thought were friendly) favors, the study sessions together, getting coffee together or dinner together, the times he would walk you to your class, or when he would walk you back to your dorm... Always scheduling a tutoring session with you, bringing you a snack in between your tutoring sessions, the times you would catch him staring…

Well. In hindsight it was obvious now. You suppose you were too busy to pick up the hints. It just had to be thrown (or kissed?) right in your face.

“Oh.” You say. “… I’m just surprised.” You chuckle. “I like you too, Chan. I didn’t expect it to happen like this.”

“Well, what can I say, I create problems.”

“Did you want me to add that onto your resume?” You joke.

“Ah, I forgot about the resume.” He glances at the laptop screen that has now dimmed due to being momentarily unused. “No need. The resume is the last thing I’m thinking of right now.”

“Then what are you thinking of?”

He smiles, leaning in, whispering, “Another kiss.” His lips ghost yours for a moment, before getting hungry and molding his lips with yours once more. He gently grabs your chin, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. His tongue traces your bottom lip, begging for entrance, while his hands play with the hem of your shirt. Your hands slide to his hair, tugging on his fluffy locks, causing him to groan softly. You break away first, panting slightly as your eyes gloss over his features. He looks rather handsome under the bright fluorescent lights, lidded brown eyes, red, plump lips, saliva glistening on his bottom lip. Quite irresistible… however…

“Chan.” You pant, catching your breath. “Not here. What if someone catches us?”

“Isn’t that half the fun?”

You slap his shoulder lightly. “Besides,” You straighten up, fixing the bottom of your shirt and glancing at the time. “Your 30 minute session is almost up.”

“Then, we can kiss till then.”

“I didn’t know you were so impatient.”

He laughs. “Sorry, you just have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you.”

“I’m all yours now, no need to be so impatient.” You smile at him, lightly touching his cheek.

Chan feels heat rise to his cheeks. Just looking at your beautiful smile and feeling your gentle touch, it made him feel things. He leans in once more, to steal your lips away.

You move away from him, laughing when he kisses air.

“Y/n, c’mon on,” He whines cutely.

“Later, okay?” You turn back towards the laptop, hands hovering over the keyboard. “Now, tell me seriously, what do you create?”

He sighs. “Music.”

You smile as your fingers move across the keyboard to make edits to his resume—after all, you’re still an academic coach.

[traincat]

I know the comic piracy debate is a never-ending cycle, but in India where I live, you can't get western comics (or manga for that matter). There aren't comic book stores. Sometimes on Amazon you can find collected editions worth more than INR 1000 at least, for the paperbacks. Most older collections, even from the early 2000s, will be upwards of INR 6000. And sure, it's because the exchange value is so low for Indian rupees, but that's still a LOT of money to Indian citizens. You can get digital editions of random odd issues for approx. INR 150, so that's there. But overall it's really a huge investment to buy a physical comic. So yes, I pirate. But I get so guilty when this debate rolls around, every time. I just don't see any other alternative.

I debated whether or not to answer this considering I haven't really addressed the comics piracy issue before so I'm not sure I'm the right account to talk about it, and also because my askbox is not a confessional and I am not a priest, but then some Spider-Man news broke that I feels ties into it this so whatever, we're going for it. The comics piracy debate comes up every couple of months and will probably continue to come up every couple of months until forever and all of these points have been stated before by others because nothing in this debate is new. First things first, you shouldn't feel guilty. I'm going to suggest actually that nobody should feel guilty, unless you are like, a millionaire and you're exclusively pirating indie books. The prices you're quoting are prohibitively expensive but I have some unfortunate news for everyone involved: the prices are really bad in the US, too. If you want good collected editions, especially in hardcover, they're going to run at similar if not quite equal prices. Comics have gone from a cheap hobby to an overwhelmingly expensive hobby.

This is a good article comparing to the cover costs of American comics since the 1960s adjusted for inflation which I think puts some things in perspective. Comics currently cost roughly $5 USD per issue, which doesn't sound that bad, even though most of my monthly streaming services are roughly that price for a whole month's access to a library of content. But it only doesn't sound that bad if you're not buying special issues (the Marvel Pride book retailed for $10), and if you're only reading one or two books a month. The problem is, American superhero comics are specifically designed so you're not reading just one or two books per month -- this is why we have events! And crossovers! Not for the story potential but because it forces the consumer to purchase more product. This is why there's constantly an event running with a checklist of tie-in issues in the back. So now you're spending probably at least $20 a month. If you're a fan with a lot of interest in different titles, and in different publishers, this can easily hit triple USD digits. It's a money pit. It's not affordable to most people. And this is where that new Spider-Man news comes in, because it was announced today that Amazing Spider-Man is going back to a thrice monthly schedule like it used to operate on during Brand New Day. Which sounds good at first -- more comics, yay -- until you realize that's probably going to be $15 USD a month for a one title. That's $180 a year for one title, not including annuals or special issues. That's not feasible for a lot of fans -- young fans, poor fans, fans with other financial obligations etc. And most people aren't reading just one title. I don't know how the X-Men fans are currently financing their Krakoa habit and I'm afraid to ask. There are services like Marvel Unlimited, which make things slightly more affordable, but I imagine the wait for newer issues to hit the service can be alienating for some fans who want to join in current discussions, the library has some incredibly massive holes in it which is unacceptable when it's coming from inside the mouse house, and I believe, although I could be wrong, that it is not available in all countries. Comics are no longer an easily accessible hobby, if you're paying for everything you read.

"But the creatives deserve to get paid" is the common argument and yeah, they do, I'm not arguing that point. They should absolutely get paid and they should get well. I'm a writer, I'm a published writer even, and I want to be a published novelist, and I definitely want to get paid, and I'm reserving the right to be a complete hypocrite about this, as I do with everything in my life, but this is where the difference between indie publications and Marvel publications comes in: Marvel is owned by Disney. There is absolutely no excuse for Disney not to pay their creatives. If they are not getting paid fairly, it's not because you pirated a book -- it's because Disney has a vested interest in not paying their creators, as evidenced by Alan Dean Foster's lawsuit claiming that they are withholding royalties from him. Fans pirating these books are not the reason the creatives are not getting paid fairly -- the creatives are not getting paid fairly for the same reason that Disney park employees experience homelessness, and it's because Disney would rather put that money into the pockets of their executives. There is no debate on that subject. It's easier and perhaps more convenient to blame fans for pirating comics rather than putting all of their money into what has been for years now a prohibitively expensive hobby to keep up with, but the fact of the matter is Disney could pay all of their creatives what they're worth without hurting their bottom line and instead chooses not to. That is not on you, as an individual reader. You have no reason to feel guilty about that, no matter what your circumstances are, and you do not have to justify your actions to either me or the House of the Mouse. I'm with you, and Disney ultimately doesn't care. They're making that money up elsewhere and then not distributing it fairly to the people who create the properties their media empire is built off of. But especially if you're buying older books, you should know that your money is not going to the creative team -- once it's out of publication, they're not going to get any of the money you spent on it. The argument then becomes that you should be supporting local comics stores which yes, is true, but also doesn't apply to everyone, like anon who doesn't have access to local comic book stores. And again, this can become prohibitively expensive -- collections are expensive. Older, hard to find collections can be very expensive. Once something is out of print, all bets are off on what it might be selling for. Buying single issues is only affordable if the single issue isn't desirable or sometimes if it's in exceedingly bad condition. For the sake of transparency, I have a fairly big single issue collection because it's my preferred format, but I had the time to bargain hunt, access to local comic book stores and large comic conventions, and I'm very good at sniping eBay auctions. The most I have ever dropped on a single issue was expensive for me -- and still under three digits USD -- and it's for an issue from the '60s that is not in great condition.

The problem with this debate is that it is generally a nuanced issue that always gets boiled down to "piracy bad" in a way that makes a lot of well meaning and well intentioned fans, especially the ones with extenuating circumstances, feel bad. It's not your fault. You shouldn't feel guilty. There are a huge amount of reasons why someone might pirate something that are not bad reasons and do not make you a bad person who is personally withholding money from the creators -- because you're not. I don't publicly tell people where to pirate comics, mostly because I really don't think it's that hard to find out for yourselves especially because several creators involved with Marvel themselves have, I suspect accidentally, posted pages of their work to social media WITH THE BANNER OF A WELL KNOWN COMICS PIRACY SITE STILL IN THE IMAGE please learn how to crop, so maybe my standpoint on the issue wasn't well known, but there it is. I think readers should, if they are able to financially and otherwise, support the creators they like, but that it should be acknowledged that this is a more complicated issue than it's commonly made out to be on Twitter and that the largest part of the blame needs to be put on the companies making these comics inaccessible to many and who refuse to pay their creators fairly, not on individual fans. Don't feel guilty, anon.

[i-did]

wait id love to hear your rant about how fanon deals with the race in tfc fics/fanon's of everyone else’s race :0

I would like to start this response with the fact that I do not believe anyone is being intentionally harmful in their race head cannons, simply that people tend to follow Fanon blindly and I believe people should not do that, and remember Fanon is only Fanon and we should make our own ideas and stray from the pack more often.

Okay, my thoughts on common race headcanons for the foxes and how they are often accidentally racist:

I know @bloodydamnit has spoken up about this before, but people specifically portraying Seth as black falls into a lot of unhealthy anti-black stereotypes of black men, especially the lack of development people tend to give him. She has written him and deconstructed these issues from her perspective and me a non-black person don’t think I could ever achieve such a thing and therefore do not headcanon him or will write him as black.

I personally headcanon him as hard Vietnamese and half white and made a long post about him before, I love Seth.

Matt and Dan are also often written as black, this isn’t inherently problematic necessarily, but it does often overlook the issue that people see this likely because of Matt’s history with drugs and Dan’s sex work playing into anti-black stereotypes without a tally going into race theory or redlining or any of the following issues in a way that gives them any development.

I like to headcanon Matt as Filipino, his straight hair is perfect for spiking, and dan as 75% black and 25% Oceti Sakowin (commonly known as Sioux), I want to write about how her leaving the reservation was a big deal for her, especially at the 25% mark which means if she is with anyone who isn’t of the same tribe her kids would not be considered a part of the tribe since the US minimum to register is 25% and this was part of her hesitance to be with Matt as well as other pressures. I like to think the baby her aunt had in the EC she ends up adopting from the foster system and that baby is 75% Oceti Sakowin and Matt is super excited to learn about their traditions and bring in both indigenous Filipino culture that he got disconnected with as well as Oceti Sakowin culture that she got disconnected with into their lives with their unexpected kid.

Renee is often headcanoned as Asian, but typically just generally Asian without nuance or explanation and also this plays into the passivity stereotype of Asian women. I headcanon her has African American, with very dark skin and Stephanie Walker was the first black foster mom she had and they hit it off really well, also Renees hair is a wig, no one can bleach their hair to white that’s just… it melts before it does that usually.

Again I’m not saying Renee can’t be Asian, It can be done right and written well, but overall I think it’s important for people to remember why they headcanon things and not accept Fanon blindly. Fanon often plays into harmful ideas. While people of color don’t have to have a reason for being people of color, I think it’s important to notice why you think charters who aren’t described at all are whatever race you headcanon and think critically. Our cultures and races make us experience the world in a certain way that contributes to who we are outside of blanket diversity, and it is important to think about that.

I often see people saying they headcanon Womack as Native American to make him having the tribal tattoos “unracist”, and to make Nora not racist, but Nora wasn’t being racist by saying Womack has tribal tattoos, Womack having shitty Tates in tattoos, which faux tribal was a huge cultural staple despite how cringe it is from the 90’s to mid 2000’s in America. It’s important also to not just say Native American but to do research on specific groups because each culture is unique and different.

That being said, I bounce back between Wymack just being some 70’s looking dad with cut off shorts to Maori where the swirl tattoos are very significant, and Kevin is white-passing but discovered he’s not white like he thought he was, and becomes an AOA history major (Africa, Oceana, Americas, aka indigenous history major).

Also considering Neil and Allison are supposed to be significantly attractive I don’t like them being white because of that, so I headcanon Allison as half middle eastern, (or maybe Indian I have more research to do before I decide), she was told she was adopted as a kid and often her mom would buy her whitening cremes like fair and lovely as a kid, but later found some papers when she was older finding out her dad actually got a woman pregnant and to keep her quiet took Allison and pretended he was such a good philanthropist and adopted a brown kid. She has a lot of problems with this, and bleaches her hair blond to try and fit in with her family without even realizing it. She never finds out who her birth mom is

I am a bit annoyed at white fans constantly calling Nora racist, while also using the lightest skinned headcanons every time for black characters playing into colorism and Spanish Nickys instead of darker toned people. Also, I think people should really try to critically think about their own ideas before calling out someone else. Do I think Nora is perfectly woke? No, no one is, but Fanon is just as bad but in a different way. There is a lot of colorism I see in both headcanon photos people use for the foxes as well as people tending to draw looser curls and thinner noses for characters they headcanon as black. Not every black person is half white and darker-skinned rep is very important. I’ve also seen people use Reece king as a Nicky face claim before and I wasn’t even surprised.

I've also seen people almost always have Erik be “Aryan” some even using the word to describe him unironically, and as a Jewish person this obviously doesn’t sit right with me. I would like to see less straight passing blond haired blue eyed taller than Nicky Erik sometimes.

Again I’m not calling anyone racist, I just think that people should go outside Fanon and think of their own ideas on who they want the characters to be in their headcanons and why. I'm tiers of the same 4 Instagram model photos being used for every Aftg edit, the same light-skinned Dan’s, Matt’s, and Nicky’s. Also while I’m at it, add some body diversity, they’re athletes all playing different positions, I think all the defense players are at least chubby if not plus size. Aaron, Andrew, and Renee are all fat and proud, Nicky and Matt are bulkier with their bodies good for blocking, while Seth is an awkward string bean, an offensive striker who can slip through people quickly despite his height.

Again I know discussions about race can be tense, I am not trying to sound like I am attacking anybody, and I'm not calling out anyone in particular, I didn't even touch on how nicky is written in fanon or canon and how it can often be both racist and homophobic coming from my prospective as a gay latino.

Okay I'm tired sorry this took me so long to respond lol

[krispydefendorpolice]

The Demon’s Bride (1)

So this is my first time using tumblr and my first attempt at fanfic. Any formatting or tagging advice would be appreciated.

So I fell in the sea of fanfic three years ago and the #Daminette ship was the one to pull me out and press me into labor. Good job all you wonderfully evil authors out there.

So, here’s to @ozmav and @bluerosette23 as creator and archiver of this ship. And @mindfulmagics for putting the seed of someone actually has this bug in their brain too that got me writing. I’m going to try to get as many people tagged for this story as I can, especially if I called upon your own stories for inspiration. This first chapter has a call back to @multifandomscribette because I could not imagine this story starting any other way after reading their story “Gotham for Two”. (GO read it it’s awesome).

Other sources of inspiration are @mochinek0 , @snowhirl , and @inevitableenquere . I can’t remember how but your stories have inspired me. Thank you.

Next Masterpost

_______________________

Chapter 1

The whole situation was, in the words of her old schoolyard bully, “ridiculous, utterly ridiculous”. After Lila’s return and eventual take over of the Lycée class Marinette was more of an after thought to most of her classmates. The last minute call when a banner for some competition was happening, when treats and desserts were needed for a class picnic or costumes to film the classes newest movie.

The first and last were better as her closest friends had realized what Lila was doing to Marinette a few months in. After they apologized, Marinette accepted Nino, Kim, Alix, and Max back into her circle of confidence. Juleka was the only one of her circle in the classroom that was still in the sphere of Lie-la but that was planned with Marinette. She needed to know what the liar was saying and Juleka was able to use her sweetheart, Rose, as a cover for staying close.

Two years down the line and the classroom battle field hadn’t changed. Lila had most of the class in her thrall and only Nino, Kim, Alix, and Max were on Marinette’s side with Juleka working as their deep cover spy.

Adrien had insisted Marinette take a pacifist route to the Lila problem in the beginning and “be the bigger person” in order to keep Lila from being akumatized. At least they both knew she was a liar and he was on her side, right?

And he was on her side. In secret. For a week. Then he fell to Lila’s claws and joined in with the class’s ‘attack Marinette’ mob mentality. They would send her horrible texts about how no one liked her and that she should disappear. They destroyed one of the sketchbooks that she left in her locker. Then it got physical, suddenly she was tripping over feet and books were knocked out of her hands. And she deserved it for bullying Lila.

That lasted almost two months before Nino realized what the class was doing looked a lot like bullying Marinette. And then Kim, Alix and Max remembered that it was Marinette in their last year at Ecole who knocked out that bully who was targeting the younger kids. Marinette did not like bullies.

Nino and Alya broke up over his betrayal of Lila. He and the others were ostracized from the class as well but it was Marinette who still took the brunt of their attacks.

Adrien’s bigger person approach didn’t work anyways. As it seemed Lila was either getting akumatized or the reason for someone else getting akumatized every other week. Unfortunately, even battling Akuma’s wasn’t a relief from harassment for Marinette.

Chat Noir, her supposed partner, was getting worse in his pursuit of her. He refused to take no for an answer and planned dates she would decline to go to and get angry at her when she didn’t show anyways. In retaliation he would show up later and later to battles until eventually he stopped showing up at all. Once that happened, Marinette started searching for some permanent replacement heroes with the Guardians blessing.

Master Fu had begun training her to take on the responsibility of Guardian of the Miraculous. And as a test for her suitability as guardian she was given free reign to choose the new miraculous team. The first thing she had done was to retire Alya after the Lila disaster. Nino only maintained his place as one of the temporary heroes once he had apologized and the others were also on reserve for world ending Akuma’s.

But frankly, she had no trust in her classmates to have her back in the field.

So she had looked to her family for possibilities. The first she had tapped was Kagami. When paired with Longg and the dragon miraculous, Kagami became the offensive fighter that Chat had failed to be. Luka was next, paired with Sass and the snake miraculous he became their defensive player and strategizer. He watched the possibilities unroll and guided them when they were heading for danger. Juleka was last and she took to Trixx like a fox to her den. With the regular team decided upon and the temporary heroes settled battles with Akuma started to flow much easier and faster.

Which was great when they were in Paris. But she wasn’t in Paris right now. No, right now she was in America, in a strange city. After dark. Alone. Yay.

If that wasn’t bad enough that unfamiliar city just happened to be Gotham. The crime capital of the world. And it wasn’t a nice part of the city she was in, like the financial or fashion districts. No, she was in the district better know as Crime Alley. What even, was her life?

The class had traveled there as part of their extra curricular studies. They had gotten lucky (ha, lucky charm) to be chosen as one of the classes to participate in a training seminar at Wayne Enterprises with other schools from around the world. The flight had been uneventful, just Lila boasting about her connections in Gotham. They mostly centered around the celebrities like the Wayne family or the vigilante/heroes, Batman and his clan.

Marinette and her group had rolled their eyes but mostly ignored her and her slaves. They landed safely and made it to the hotel safely. And while not in the best neighborhood it hadn’t been in Crime Alley. So why did Ms. Bustier choose to take the class to a restaurant inside Crime Alley for dinner? Who knows? Marinette certainly didn’t.

It probably wouldn’t have mattered except that while Marinette was in the restroom the rest of the class disappeared. Now here she was, walking alone in Crime Alley, with nothing but a Kwami with her for protection. A Kwami she needed to keep a secret.

She sighed as the footsteps behind her picked up speed. At this point she was simply easy prey to the predators that stalked these streets. She opened her purse and glanced down at Tikki who was looking up at her. At Tikki’s small smile she looked around to decide on a plan of action.

Seeing her chance, Marinette started running. Instead of veering to the street she aimed towards an alley ahead of her. As soon as she turned she saw a brick wall ahead of her that was the rear of a building, and with buildings on either side of her she was boxed in. Perfect, she smiled.

She dropped the smile and turned as her stalkers steps fell silent behind her. One hand was holding a gun aimed at her and the other hand was held open and gesturing to her.

“Looks like you’re boxed in pretty thing. Just give me your money and I won’t hurt you,” he said in English.

Thinking quickly Marinette ducked her head as if she were cowed into obedience by the sight of the gun. “Do you promise?” she asked in the same language.

“I’m a man of my word, pretty. Your money gets you your life.”

But doesn’t guarantee my safety, Marinette thought as she fumbled with pulling her wallet from her purse. She held it out before her and waited.

The mugger walked towards her and reached for the wallet she held. As he touched it Marinette’s free hand wrapped around the wrist and pulled. Unprepared for her move the man stumbled forward and his nose connected with the elbow she raised. Pulling back with a yelp he dropped the gun when Marinette’s second grab and subsequent nerve strike numbed the hand holding it.

He looked up at the barrel of his own weapon held in Marinette’s hand.

“What was that about my life?” She asked calmly.

Before he could answer a thud behind her had Marinette turning again.

_________________

Hopefully people actually got tagged on this. Let me know if you didn’t. Again I’m new and don’t know the tagging system yet.

Let me know what you think. As they say comments are a writers wages and if I get enough (and I finish editing chapter 2) I’ll post it tonight. Questions are appreciated though I may not answer unless it won’t pop up in story but we’ll see where I go with this.

[artificialqueens]

Girl I Met On The Internet, 5/6 (Crystal x Gigi) - Strawberry

a/n these chapters aren’t really that long but i keep taking forever to get them written and edited lol but anyway i hope ya’ll enjoy!! 

Gigi stayed at Crystal’s house for a while after their kiss. Crystal showed Gigi all of the art that was not yet hanging up on her walls, gave her a house tour, and introduced her to her cat Tic Tac, who Gigi instantly fell in love with. 

Gigi finally had to go when Crystal said her mom was on her way home from work, and would not be happy with Crystal if she found out she had someone over without permission. 

“Are you sure you’ll be fine walking home?” Crystal asked, watching Gigi put her shoes back on from where she was standing in the kitchen.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I live like, two streets down, actually so I’ll be there in like five minutes!” Gigi reassured her.

They hugged goodbye, Crystal walking her out and standing on her front porch until Gigi went out of sight. A few minutes later, Gigi messaged her.

gigi: i’m home and i miss ur cat

crystal: :o only tic tac??? not me??

gigi: yeah <3

crystal: you’re a loser

To Crystal’s disappointment, she didn’t hear from Gigi again until much later. Crystal had been debating getting off TikTok and going to sleep early for once when Gigi finally messaged her back. 

gigi: do u wanna facetime

crystal: YEAH!

Crystal balanced her phone on her history textbook that was still laying on her bed and grabbed Tic Tac, knowing Gigi would love seeing the cat again. 

“Hi!” Gigi waved, gasping when she saw Tic Tac in frame. “Who’s the cutest cat ever?”  

Gigi showed Crystal her room and her closet. Eventually, they both exited the FaceTime app to go on Twitter, but stayed on the call. They made it their mission to annoy the other girls by spamming them with pictures of frogs and other memes they had found funny.

crystal: frog in a hat frog in a hat

nicky: why not sheep? they are the superior animal!

crystal: No <3 but i fuck with you for trying

Jackie: Does this happen often?

nicky: crystal and gigi are always on some bullshit. just ignore them queen

jan!: nicky pls stop trying to steal jackie 

nicky: i simply breathed

“Hey, I think I’m going to bed,” Crystal yawned, “I’m tired. I would’ve been asleep by now if you didn’t want to talk.”

“Wait, before you go, do you maybe want to walk to school together tomorrow?” Gigi asked, coming back onto the app to see Crystal’s face.

Crystal smiled. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Great! I’ll message you in the morning. Goodnight, ba- bitch!”

Being so tired, Crystal almost didn’t catch Gigi’s slip up. “Goodnight, Gigi.”

Being just friends was going to be difficult, Crystal decided before finally allowing herself to fall asleep.

-

Walking to school became Gigi and Crystal’s new thing. With Crystal’s mom’s permission, Gigi would join Crystal after school on days she didn’t have practice, often staying for dinner. Crystal’s mom met Gigi a week after they started doing this, and was very skeptical the first time she met Gigi, not expecting Crystal to have befriended a cheerleader, but quickly welcomed her with open arms.

After Gigi had dinner with Crystal and her mom, her and Crystal went back into Crystal’s room to get some homework done. Gigi’s mom requested her to come home after Gigi and Crystal finished Gigi’s algebra homework. They were both pretty bad at math, but Crystal insisted if they worked together they would be able to figure it out, which was debatable at best.  

“I don’t want to go. I’m too comfy,” Gigi complained, not wanting to get up from Crystal’s bed.

“You have to. Sorry.” Crystal replied, making Gigi stick her tongue out at her.

A few moments later, Gigi sat up, remembering that she wanted to ask Crystal something. “Hey, so before I go, I was thinking…”

“You think?” Crystal teased, giggling. Gigi gasped in mock offense, throwing a pillow at her head.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Gigi continued, “I was thinking that we should have lunch together tomorrow. Only talking to you in the halls is not enough.”

“Yeah, of course! Do you want to meet me in the art room then?” Crystal asked, shutting her textbook and turning to face Gigi. 

“No. I’ll come meet you outside your class. What happens next is a surprise.”

Those words replayed in Crystal’s brain for the rest of the night. A conversation that happened in the group chat when Crystal was in the shower got her even more excited.

gigi: guys guess what

jan!: yeah??

gigi: i miss crystal :(

jan!: weren’t you at her house like an hour ago

heidi: hold up WHAT

heidi: miss gigi was WHERE????

jaida: what now

gigi: JAN SHUSH you ruined my reveal!!!

jaida: JAN YOU KNEW THIS??? and didn’t wish to share???

jan!: uh-

heidi: not a reveal DHGJSDH

gigi: i’m gonna ask crystal out and then after that i was gonna send a selfie of us revealing that we are dating AND that we live in the same town and everyone would lose their minds at the superior couple

jaida: now why would you announce that if she’s in here

gigi: SHIT

gigi: everyone spam the chat she doesn’t read up 

jan!: SUPERIOR COUPLE?? HELLO???

jan!: stealing your idea. we aren’t dating yet but look at me and jackie :-) 

nicky: I HEARD JACKIE IM HERE

jaida: nicky why do you hit on everyone who’s not available dgfhfj first gigi, and then you were a crystal stan and now this

nicky: why are you acting like this is a problem jai

Jackie: I find it hilarious. Jan only reserves that side of her when Ariana Grande posts a selfie. I’m chopped liver to her.

jan!: JACKIE THAT’S A LIE DHJBFDKH WHY DO YOU ONLY COME IN HERE TO BULLY ME

Jackie: ;)

gigi: jackie’s using emojis we did it gays

nicky: i am a homewrecker. jaida, find a partner and i will flirt with you too

heidi: nicky literally no one asked

jaida: well damn.. 

jaida: hey heidi you single??

heidi: NOT THISIDHDGKJS

Crystal usually didn’t read up, due to pure laziness and the fact that these girls could send fifty messages a minute if they wanted to. It was too much for Crystal sometimes. This time she decided to read up, and she was glad she did. They didn’t try hard enough to hide anything Gigi said, and Crystal was even more excited for the next day.

-

Crystal got up extra early that morning, putting more effort than she usually would on taming her curly hair and put on a tad bit more makeup than usual. She searched her closet for the perfect outfit, and finally picked out a hot pink jumpsuit with purple flowers on it, with a headband with the same design on it to match. 

She loved what she saw when she finally looked at herself in her full length mirror. Crystal knew this was going to be a good day; she looked good, and Gigi was going to ask her out during lunch. She was so excited.

gigi: im on ur street!

Crystal tried her best to mask her excitement as she walked down the hall and out the front door, not wanting Gigi to know she was aware of her plan.

“You look so cute!” Gigi exclaimed as soon as she saw Crystal.

“Thanks! You do too, we match!” Crystal replied.

Gigi was wearing a pink floral shirt with white shorts, and Crystal thought she looked very nice. Gigi always did, but it didn’t appear that she put in any extra effort, unlike Crystal did.

Crystal didn’t let that upset her, she told herself that the way Gigi dressed probably wouldn’t affect anything Gigi had planned. 

Due to Crystal’s impatience, the morning felt much longer. When the bell signaling that it was lunch finally rang, Crystal couldn’t hide the gigantic grin on her face if she tried. Right outside the doorway stood Gigi, and two other girls who were on the cheerleading squad. Crystal found this odd, but made her way over anyway.

“Hey, you ready?” Gigi asked, giving Crystal a quick hug. “This is Rosy and this is Symone,” Gigi said, motioning to the other girls. “I want you to meet them so we’re all having lunch together!”

Realization hit. There was no date, Crystal was way off. She really hoped her face didn’t show her disappointment. She tried to ignore it, Crystal was curious to meet Symone and Rosy. Gigi had mentioned them briefly before, but they must’ve been close if Gigi was introducing them.

“Just with you guys? Not Dahlia?” 

“Nope, she has a dentist appointment.” Gigi confirmed, and the four of them took off to the cafeteria.

Lunch was surprisingly nice. Rosy and Symone were way nicer than Dahlia ever had been to Crystal. Symone liked to paint, and Rosy loved Harry Styles so there was much for Crystal to discuss with them. Crystal didn’t like them as much as she liked her internet friends, but she couldn’t say they didn’t exceed her expectations. Crystal wondered why Gigi wasn’t always surrounding herself with cheerleaders like Rosy and Symone, who were genuinely nice and positive, but that would be a question for another time. 

Despite lunch going better than expected, Crystal was sad that she was so off about what Gigi had planned. She felt stupid, even though none of what Gigi had said hinted to only inviting Crystal to have lunch with her friends on the squad.

-

On their way to Crystal’s house, Gigi could tell something was off with the green haired girl. She was going to get to the bottom of it. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” Gigi asked once they got in Crystal’s room, both of them sitting on the bed. 

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine,” Crystal lied, busying herself by petting Tic Tac, who had jumped up to join them on the bed.

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” Gigi pushed, wanting to help.

Crystal took a deep breath, and let it all out. “What are we, Gigi? We said we’d be just friends for now but I thought you were going to take me on a date during lunch today since you told the group chat about your plan but I was wrong!” 

Gigi had to take a moment to process everything. “I was going to try to clear that up by taking you on a date during spring break.” She admitted, making Crystal’s eyes go wide.

“Fuck… I’m sorry, I just-” Crystal mumbled, feeling awful,

“That’s why I wanted you to meet my other friends.” Gigi continued, “I think I’m going to come out to them before spring break.”

Crystal was shocked, “Gigi, spring break is next week. Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah. I need to. I talk to them about you all the time and I think they’re starting to get suspicious.” Gigi blushes.

“Even Dahlia?”

“Yeah, but she’s moving this summer so she’ll be out of her hair soon enough.”

“I think this is the best day ever, honestly.” Crystal giggles, leaning forward to press a kiss to Gigi’s cheek, making her whine.

“No. On the lips.” Gigi pouted. 

“I don’t kiss before the first date, Georgia Rose.” Crystal teases. 

“You’re so stupid!” Gigi huffs, tackling Crystal onto her bed, tickling her sides until she thought Crystal had enough. When Gigi finally stopped, Crystal lied there for a moment, still giggling even though Gigi’s manicured fingers weren’t on her anymore. 

“You’re so mean! I didn’t deserve that.” 

“You’re the one who wouldn’t kiss me!” Gigi whined again, flipping Crystal off.

“Don’t stress. G. Spring break will be here before we know it.”

[randomobsessionsofa30something]

The 5 korean dramas I’m currently watching (October 2020 update).

A life update...

It’s been about five months since the last time I posted about korean dramas. Usually, if I stoped writting about dramas it was because I stopped watching any but this time I’ve actually watched plenty. However in 2020 everything is different. Turns out when you work at home you end up working more hours than in an office therefore the first thing I want to do after work is to stay as far away as possible from my laptop. So the past few months this blog was reserved to random posts made in my mobile about kpop albums. Anyway long story short, been away for a while but I’m going to make an effort to post more often. Here’s the dramas I’m enoying these days:

Do you like Brahms?

This is my favorite of the dramas I’m watching right now. It's probably not for people that like fast paced dramas. Nevertheless it’s a sweet romantic drama about a profesional pianist (Park Joon Young played by Kim Min Jae) that was considered a genius but whose career has slowed down and he takes a year off to decompress. He has had a crush on his best friend’s girlfriend for a long time but things will change when he meets Chae Song Ah played by Park Eun Bin. Song Ah is a violin student that started playing later than most violin players which makes her struggle. She has similar romantic troubles as Park Joon Young and soon she becomes attracted to him. Another trait they share is that they have trouble expressing themselves which creates missunderstandings. Their personal struggles and their romantic past will be the main obstacles in their relationship.

Record of youth

This TVN drama stars Park Bo Gum as the successful model Sa Hye Jun that is trying to make it as an actor and when he's about to give up things start to look up. At the same time he meets a former office worker turned make up artist (Park So Dam) that is having a hard time in her new job and is a dedicated fan of his. They soon have a connection. However the everyday problems from schedule issues to his new found popularity will make things difficult for them.

I love their wholesome relationship even if things get more complicated in the second half of the drama. I have to say it's been a while since both second leads in a drama bothered me as much as they do on this one. The editing of this drama is interesting. They skip often on the time line which sometimes I feel adds to the story and other times can be confusing. It's on Netflix.

Private lives

This JTBC drama is also available on Netflix. Only four episodes have been released but I knew from the first episode I would love this one. I've always had a soft spot for SNSD's Seohyun so I always check out her dramas I have to say she has improved in her acting and the chemistry with Go Kyung Pyo is on point.

The story is about a girl that was groomed from early age to be a swindler. However when a con goes bad her family falls apart and she's left with nothing but resentment. She follows in her parents footsteps to take revenge on her father's behalf. Things will get more complicated than anyone expected. She meets Lee Jung Hwan, a regular office worker, and makes the decision to leave everything behind her except he is not what he seems.

Dodosolsol lalasol

Go Ara stars in this fun rom-com as a rich girl whose goal in life is to make his dad happy. She plays the piano only because it makes him happy and is about to marry the man he chooses for her. Suddenly her life does a 180 when his father passes away leaving her with nothing but debts. Now she has to make a living after she is conned by a real state agent. Luckily Joon, a guy that barely knows her, takes pity of her and lends her money until she's able to pay him back. He also has gone through a lot and is on the run.

Honestly after his role in WWW I've been really looking forward to see Lee Jae Wook in a main role and even if I imagined a different kind of role for him I'm really enjoying this drama. You can watch it on Netflix.

The tale of the nine taled

When I heard about this drama I thought: are they attempting to do a Goblin 2.0? After watching only two episodes I would say it isn't up to that level but it is a fun fantasy drama. Jo Bo Ah plays a tv producer that is obsessed with mystic creatures and meets Lee Dong Wook's character Lee Yeon. She soon realizes he's not what he seems.

Lee Yeon is a gumiho (a nine taled fox) that just arrived to the city and is already making a splash. He notices he's being watched so he tries to hide his real identity but his brother (Kim Beom) shows up after a long time which complicates everything and forces him to stay close to producer Nam Jo Ah to save her life. Their fate though has been tied for hundreds of years.

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “I Come Close” (Part 3/3) (au)

Summary: They’re not really rivals, but not really friends. What they are, instead, is the best sex they’ve ever had. It’s easy and simple, even with the rules they have in place. So what happens when those rules start falling apart?

Rating: Explicit - This chapter contains dirty talk/phone sex

A/N: It took me until just now to discover I’d never added a summary to the last chapter. Y’all do know you can let me know when I fuck that shit up, yeah? Anyway, here’s part 2! Part 3 is finally finished and in edits so I figured I could get this whole thing posted before I go on vacation next week.

Part 1 | Part 2

Find it on Ao3!

-x-

Part 3

It’s not that Emma hates business trips. In fact, she actually quite likes them. She also perversely likes traveling, even though everyone else in the office complains and whines and drags their feet. Not Emma - she has her packing done three days before she has to leave.

The day before her flight, she double checks everything. Her business travel card is turned on with no balance due. Her carry-on bag is just waiting for the last few essentials which she’ll put in when she wakes up tomorrow. She takes a moment during her lunch break to check in to her flight and double check her seat. She scowls at the one beside her that’s still currently showing as unoccupied and closes out of the app, moving instead to the one that has her hotel reservation.

There’s only one thing that has not gone how she planned, and that’s the empty seat next to her. Not that she should care. She travels alone all the time. She’s more used to traveling alone than she is with others. So why does it piss her off so much that Killian won’t be sitting next to her when they take off tomorrow?

Their arrangement has been the best thing to happen to her in a long time. And that’s purely from a sexual standpoint. He walked in her office that day asking what he could do, and her brain screamed back “Do me!” so loud that she could only follow what her body wanted. 

She took him back to her place, wrung every drop of pleasure out of him that she could, and told him she’d see him in the office bright and early the next day. He’d smirked, cocking his head to one side and considering her for a moment before he walked out the door.

A week later, they did it again. No talk of work, no backstories, no kissing. He bent her over her kitchen table and fucked her so good she almost asked him to carry her to bed before he left. 

And so it began. It was a weekly thing. Once a week only. Always on a weeknight to avoid things like sleeping over and cuddling. 

One day when she got home from work, though, she couldn’t get him out of her head. She figured it was just a rougher than normal day and she just needed a quick fuck to get it out of her system. Instead of changing into something more comfortable or even just keeping her work clothes on, she hatched a better idea to immediately get him onto the same page as her. 

Off went all the other items she wore that day, keeping only her stockings and her shoes. Sliding on her coat again, she buttoned it all the way to her neck and tied it tight and hoped an Uber wouldn’t be too far away. 

It took a lot of careful maneuvering to make sure she didn’t flash the driver or the doormen at either of their residences, but there was a strong sense of accomplishment when she made it into the building without incident.

The look on Killian’s face when she dropped the coat to the floor was worth it. 

Even after they got done having sex, however, there was still a pit of something in Emma’s stomach. Something missing. And that’s when her dumbass brain decided that she should kiss him. 

The frequency that they’ve been seeing each other for the last month is quite possibly a problem. It’s every other day, now. Still no kissing. But he kind of, almost, just a little bit slept over the night she asked him to tie her up. 

Not that she fully blames him for that one. That was a marathon of a night, and by the time he came, he’d made sure she’d had six orgasms. Six. She’s never had a partner try harder for her pleasure than their own, and that’s including Ruby, who gives out orgasms like she’s handing out candy on Halloween. 

Emma knows she wasn’t sleeping long when she felt the shifting on the other side of the bed. Maybe he realized where he was and what was going on, so when the bed dipped, she expected it was him getting ready to take off. Instead, she felt his lips press against her forehead so sweetly, so tenderly, that she’s surprised she held it together until after he left.

Things went back to normal after that night. 

Sometimes they play with the restraints. Sometimes it’s something slow and sensual and just fucking incredible, but they still always part ways when they’re done. She’s been to his place a couple times now, too, and it feels a lot more like something than nothing.

Two nights ago, when she’d been getting ready to leave his place, he’d informed her his travel plans had changed and he wouldn’t be flying out until Monday morning. That left her on the Thursday night plane with no seatmate. She’ll still be with her team, but there was something intriguing about making this one “together” when they’ve always avoided each other on previous work trips. Plus, it’s four whole days she’ll have to go without seeing him, which just feels wrong at this point. 

With a heavy sigh, and knowing that all her travel accommodations are secured, Emma throws herself back into her work. 

When she shuts everything down for the night, she’s surprised to see Killian’s office still lit up across the way. She’s even more surprised to see him pacing and arguing with someone on the phone, his brows furrowed down. He’s usually so put-together at work: hair in place, suit pristine until the moment he leaves, shoes shined every single day.

Right now, his sleeves are rolled up, exposing the brace that holds his prosthetic. His hair is messed up, a product of the argument he still seems to be having. 

“Well call me back when you get it right,” he growls out, and Emma feels her knees go weak just a bit at the tone of his voice. Fuck, she finds him way too attractive. She would give almost anything to be spread across his ostentatious desk right about now. 

He turns as if hearing her thoughts from the doorway. 

“Swan? Anything I can help you with?”

She wanders into his office, her fingertips grazing the dark oak she was just picturing herself draped across. By looks alone, he’s had a shittier day than she could’ve imagined, and yet he’s still the one asking if he can do anything for her. 

“Uh, no. All good. Your place or mine?”

He checks his watch, another slew of curse words falling from his lips as he sees the time. “Bloody hell, I hadn’t even seen the time. Give me an hour and I’ll be at yours? I know you have an early flight so I’ll try to get there sooner if I can. I promise.”

“Take your time. I just plan on sleeping on the flight anyway,” she comments, coming close enough. Why is she so close to him? His tie is loosened and askew. Why is she reaching for it? 

Killian stops moving all together, instead focusing intensely on the way Emma is nimbly pulling the tail of the tie from the knot that looked better this morning. She works the knot out entirely, sliding it free from under his collar and staring carefully at the fabric between her fingers before looking up to meet his gaze. 

“Don’t work too hard,” she tells him, placing the tie on the corner of his desk. 

His hand grips her wrist loosely when she turns to retreat, and Emma does her best to stay steady. He’s looking at her with an unreadable expression, his eyes darting between hers as if he’s studying her files. He glances a few times at her lips and she wants him to kiss her. Wants it so bad that she almost goes for it again. But his phone is ringing and she can see the moment he waves a white flag. 

“One hour,” he tells her, letting his touch fall away from her wrist in order to answer his phone.

He’s there in forty-eight minutes, his mouth hungrily moving across her neck, biting at her earlobe as her hands make their way down to grab at his ass. 

All in all, worth the wait. Again, she almost kisses him, and somehow they both resist. 

But it’s still lonely boarding the plane by herself. It’s not until she’s in her hotel room later at night that the pit in her stomach opens - a chasm of unknown depths. The curtains are all wide open. She got an upgrade - corner room, river view, a little extra space with a couch… 

She turns on the TV for extra noise as she unpacks her suitcase, meticulously hanging her outfits for her meetings next week and the conference this weekend. She’s just finishing up when her dinner is delivered, and she forces herself to relax on the small couch while she eats, the TV long forgotten in favor of texting Killian pictures of the bridges visible. It’s certainly not the skyline she’s used to from their apartments, but from this far up, Pittsburgh doesn’t seem so bad. 

Her phone rings just after 8pm, and Killian’s voice greets her low and sultry. 

“It’s been a long day without you in this building,” he says plainly after she answers. “Your perfume wasn’t lingering around any corners today.”

“Why are you still at work?” she asks, more curious than anything else. 

“In my defense, I’m currently leaving the building.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“I was working on the Apollo account,” he says, and while she’s pretty sure that’s not a lie, it doesn’t sound like the full truth. “I’m hopping in a car. Do you want to stick with me or should I call you when I get home?”

She wants to tell him he doesn’t have an obligation to either option but she stops herself. She’s sitting by herself in her hotel room. The company would be nice. 

“I’ll stick with you,” she responds after a moment. 

“Excellent. So why aren’t you out with your team, who I know for a fact are downstairs in the hotel bar getting absolutely pissed on the company’s dime?”

“I got room service,” she says, as if that will cover the whole answer.

“A better choice, in my opinion,” he admits. “Is your room nice? Where are we staying again?”

“The Renaissance. They upgraded me to a corner room. I have this great view from up here.”

“As good as the view from my apartment?”

“It’s lacking something… extra.” 

“Darling, you tease.”

“I could do a lot more than tease, Killian.”

He’s silent for a moment, maybe weighing the pros and cons of having an erection in the backseat of an Uber. She can picture him cradling his phone in his lap, likely scrolling through work emails as they talk, his airpods snugly in his ears, judging how much the driver is even paying attention to him and his conversation.

“You could,” he says after a drawn out silence. “But will you?”

She chuckles, pushing aside the reports she was pretending to look over when he called in favor of sitting back. “I think I will,” she responds airily, taking a second of her own to decide how she wants to approach this. “The only thing missing in this room is you, preferably naked, stretched out on this king size bed.”

“Go on,” he requests, his words a little clipped.

“I packed before you told me you weren’t going to be here until Monday,” she tells him, stretching languidly as she stands from the couch. “Brought this cute new set of underwear. I think I might wear it tomorrow to the cocktail hour.”

“Or you could wait to wear it until Monday.”

“I could,” she sighs out. “But you know how much I love wearing new things as soon as I get them. They’re all black. Quarter cups. Lace.”

“Bloody hell, Swan. Hold that thought. Just -- hang on one moment.” She’s able to track his movements from the car to the entrance of his building.

“Tell Smee I said hello,” she says coyly, turning off the lamps until just the glow of the lights beyond her windows illuminates the room.

“Evening, Smee,” he says a moment later. 

“Are you in the elevator now?”

“I am,” he responds. “Thinking about how much more I’d enjoy this tent in my trousers if you were here with me.”

“Did you just have to walk past Smee with a noticeable hard-on?”

“Aye. And believe me, I’ll get you back for that.”

She hums, listening to the sound of the elevator dinging when it gets to his apartment. She tracks his movement, listening to him set down his computer and keys. Then hears him suck in a breath between his teeth as he obviously reaches for himself. 

“Feel better?” she asks, enjoying being able to do this to him so easily. 

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now,” he says. 

“I showered while waiting for my dinner, so I’m in nothing but a robe.”

He groans. “The things you do to me,” he utters, and the sound of his voice ignites the fire in her belly. 

“Yeah, I can think of several things I’d like to do to you right now.”

“Tell me,” he says, his voice wavering. “Imagine I’m there with you. What am I doing?”

“You’re getting undressed like you’re putting on a show, as you always do.” She closes her eyes to picture it: the way he slides off his tie, the way he slips open each button on his vest. “You’re taking off each layer like you’re exposing a gift to me. Until you’re down to just those gray slacks.”

“How do you know I’m wearing the gray ones?” he asks, his voice quiet and tinged with disbelief.

“You always wear them on Thursday,” she answers simply, missing the sound he makes as she barrels on with her imagination. “You leave those on while you move to the side of the bed, looking at me like you don’t know which part of me to taste first.”

“You know what part I want to taste first,” he says quickly.

“I do, but you always look like it’s some life-changing decision.”

“I’d argue that tasting you was a life-changing decision, love.” His voice when he says it is low and rumbly, pressed right against her ear, and she gasps.”What am I doing now?”

“You’re taking off those fucking pants,” she says, not even bothering to untie her robe but slipping her fingers between her legs. “And you’re climbing onto the bed with me.”

“Damn this case, I should be sinking into you right now,” he groans. 

“Yeah,” she says. “You should be.” 

Her fingers are still moving, dipping inside herself before coming out and swirling around her clit. It’s a pattern she knows for a fact that Killian makes with his tongue all the time, and maybe that’s what she can blame for the next words out of her mouth.

“I miss you,” she breathes out before she can stop herself. The moment she finishes speaking however, she realizes her mistake. 

“Swan?”

Struggling for a second, she has no idea what to say. Her fingers pause their actions as her eyes fly open and she works her jaw a few times but can’t come up with anything. 

“I gotta go. See you Monday,” she rushes out, ending the call. “You fucking idiot,” she says to herself, ignoring the phone as it buzzes in her hand. She lets the call go to voicemail. Next come the text messages, and in a fit of panic, Emma does the only thing she can think of. 

She turns off her phone.

In the morning, she forces herself to believe that it’s all going to be okay. She’ll just distance herself from Killian. She has a couple days before she has to see him and while she knows it’s going to suck - they really had a great thing going - she’ll get over it in time. 

Taking a deep breath, she goes through her morning routine, taking a moment before she starts to order breakfast. After that she focuses on getting ready, brushing her teeth and hair, applying moisturizer and a set of under-eye patches to try to fix the bags that formed from her fitful night of sleep. 

Moving to the closet, she finds her outfit for the first part of the day - some panel that she would rather sleep through if given the choice. She holds up the undergarments she told Killian about last night and sighs, pushing them to the back of the drawer and grabbing something more sensible. 

She’s only managed to slide on the underwear when there’s a knock on the door. That couldn’t possibly be breakfast, right? Last night, she accepted that she would be waiting for at least forty minutes before her food was delivered. She throws on her robe again, unlatching and swinging open the door without even bothering to check the peephole.

It’s not a room attendant with a tray waiting on the other side. 

“Killian,” she whispers, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he’s here, standing at her door. “How did you…?”

“I may have bribed a member of your team to give me your room number,” he says. He’s forcing his voice to be casual but there’s a tension rolling off of him that she can tell he’s trying to hide. “May I come in?”

She almost declines, but instead she moves aside. As she carefully shuts the door again, he moves to stand behind her, waiting until she’s finished her task to turn her towards him and press her against the door. 

With delicate movements, he glides the patches from beneath her eyes, smiling softly as he does. Only after they’ve dropped to the floor does he brush his fingers across her cheek.

And then he’s kissing her. Not the quick press of lips that she gave that first time she showed up at his place. These are deep, open-mouthed kisses that she reciprocates immediately, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

“Did you mean it?” he asks before kissing her again. 

She could pretend to not know what he’s talking about, but her heart lurches. She can’t lie - not about this. 

“Yeah,” she replies, shuddering as his hand moves to the tie on her robe.

“Say it, Emma.”

Working up the nerve to say it in person is different than blurting it out on accident during phone sex, but as he pulls back far enough to wait, she realizes he’s not going to do anything else until she follows through. Opening her eyes is the first challenge, but he’s right there with her - his gaze patient as it meets hers. 

He leans forward, ready to kiss her again, but there’s a knock at the door again. He steps back, pressing his lips together as she pulls her robe closed.

“Breakfast,” she says, giving him time to move further away before she opens the door. 

He’s standing by the windows when she turns back to the room, directing the attendant to place the tray on the desk while she signs the receipt that she’s handed. When they’re alone again, he hesitates before he pivots to look at her. 

“Emma,” he starts, but she cuts him off.

“No, let me,” she says, moving slowly across the room to stand in front of him. “I missed you last night.” Her voice is quiet, and she swallows hard when she’s done speaking, trying to maintain eye contact and not fidget. 

He reaches out, grabbing her hand and urging her forward a few more steps so he can wrap his arms around her waist, his palm splayed across her back.

“I missed you, too. I was finishing the Apollo case so I could submit the proposal and fly out here early. That’s why I was at the office so late last night,” he tells her, and she can see why he kept that card close to his chest now. 

“To surprise me?”

“Aye, though originally it was just so I could fuck you against those windows, but now, I have the stones to tell you that I want something different. Emma, I want more.”

“We work together. Don’t you see how complicated this is?” she asks, pushing against his chest lightly so she can move away and pace around the room. He lets her go but waits until she makes another pass by him to hook his prosthetic around her wrist and guide her back. 

“I do. Believe me, I have thought of this so many times and so many ways, and every time I try to talk myself out of it, I just want it more. I have spent months just wanting to kiss you every time I see you. I’ve spent hours trying to figure out what I wanted out of this beyond a physical release, and I kept coming back to the same answer every time.”

“What was your answer?” She has a feeling she knows what he’s about to say but she wants to hear him say it.

“Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you.” His voice trembles just the tiniest bit as the words come out, and it surprises her when a tear rolls down her cheek. 

All this time, they’ve both been exercising the most restraint they could manage, and now it’s all out in the open. His hand trails up her arm, moving until he’s cupping her cheek and bending slightly to kiss her softly. 

She’s the one that shifts the tone this time, melding against him as one of her hands ends up in his hair and she’s lost to the way he tastes. Does he always taste this way in the morning? What is that hint she’s getting?

“You taste like tomato juice. Bloody Mary?”

“A spike of confidence. Light on the vodka. When does the revenue management panel begin?”

“Who cares? No one will miss us. Spend the day with me, instead?”

“As soon as I retrieve my luggage from the front desk, I’d be happy to.”

“That’s easy enough to take care of,” she responds, reaching for the phone beside her bed. After arranging to have his luggage delivered to her room, she has a thought. Covering the receiver of the phone, she turns to where Killian is helping himself to her coffee and flipping through the notes for the conference. “Hey, do you want to stay with me for the week?”

After a moment of shock, he wanders over, kissing her forehead quickly before taking the phone from her. “Yes, hello? This is Killian Jones. I had a reservation starting on Monday but I won’t be needing it any longer. Can you change the name on that to Will Scarlett? Yes. Thank you.”

At her questioning look, Killian shrugs. “He had to add on late and is stuck sharing a room with Victor. At least now he can move to his own room on Monday.”

“So gentlemanly of you.”

“I’m always a gentleman, Swan. Now, why don’t we split this breakfast and see what’s on Netflix, hmm?”

For the rest of the day, they lounge in the bed, dining on nothing but room service, and it’s not until well past lunch that Killian works apart the knot tying her robe, taking his time to savor every inch of skin he comes across. 

When Emma wakes up in the morning, Killian is still in the bed beside her, and there’s no movement from either of them to escape away. Instead, where they’d rolled apart during the night, she shifts across the distance and tucks herself into his side to snooze for just five more minutes. 

By the time they fly home on Thursday, they’ve set up a time for an actual date to take place during the weekend, and the rules they’d established before go right out the window. And during this flight, she doesn’t glare once at the seat next to her because it’s occupied by the right person this time.

[onlyyyariii]

Speechless

*******

"The first time we met I wanted nothing more than for the twins to shut up because they were so annoying. Then I realized why they were being annoying and it was kind of sweet. Being Cameron's best friend, I had never looked at her little brothers in any way other than them being my younger brothers. After they moved to LA, I hadn't seen the twins again until they were 18. Ethan got in contact with me about maybe being in a few videos with them or filming for them, whichever I was more comfortable with. I agreed because I had never really spent time with them. To say it was fun would be downplaying it. I loved ever second of helping them film. It's what got me started on my YouTube channel, which now has about three million subscribers because the Dolans love to play my videos on their Snapchat's. All three of them hype up my videos, and I'm grateful for that. A special thank you to Ethan though for helping me edit. After we filmed those videos I had given my number to each of the twins personally. We became friends and I often visited them in LA. Ethan and I became closer naturally, with us both being older we just clicked on a lot of things. Grayson would rarely talk to me, and I decided one day that it was completely unacceptable. If I was going to be friends with the twins, I was going to be friends with both of them. After staying with them for a while I started looking at apartments around the city. Yes, they were expensive. I had just started getting calls for brand deals and I was making my way in the world. Then he came into my life. He damaged me. He broke me completely and even though they had told me he was trouble, they took me back because that's what friends do. They take you back even though they know you'd made a huge mistake. Grayson and I became close after that. He and I bonded over wanting a serious relationship and kids. We both wanted to get married and have kids. Since I had been hanging out with Grayson more than Ethan, we went shopping and out to eat a lot. Many people mistook them for dates. One time we were stopped by Hollywood Fix and asked about our relationship. We told them we were just friends, but we were best friends. They didn't believe us. We didn't care how other people saw it because we knew what we were. That is until we weren't.”

“I started to like Grayson, I was getting used to his presence and going out with him felt nice. I talked to Cameron about it. She told me that Grayson has had a crush on me forever. That made me feel... happy in a sense you know. I liked him and he liked me. I would need confirmation on his part but I wasn't ready to tell him yet. We still hung out regularly. We started holding hands and he would kiss my forehead and I would kiss his cheek. But then he got a girlfriend. I backed off, I stopped talking to him and Ethan completely. I enjoyed the company of my others friends for a while. I couldn't bare the thought of Grayson with another girl. It sickened me. I know you're all blabbing about how I should've told him that I liked him, but he wasn't showing any signs he would've liked me back and I didn't want to ruin our friendship. Before I continue I just wanted to clarify that, yes, Ethan and Grayson have both given me permission to speak on this. To this day, Ethan won't let me live what I did next down. I drove to their house one night in the pouring rain and I poured my heart and soul out to Grayson. I knew he had a girlfriend but he had to know how I felt. After I told him you would've thought we would've shared a romantic kiss in the rain, right? Wrong. We didn't. He was speechless and didn't know what to say. I told him I was going back to Jersey for a while and that I would call when I'm ready to come back. I thought he would come after me but all I saw were pictures of him and his girlfriend on his private story. It really bummed me out, so I hung out with Cameron and got back into my Jersey groove. That's when Ethan and Grayson decide they're coming to Jersey too.”

“Luckily, Grayson's girlfriend decided to stay in LA. I don't know how I would've handled it if she didn't. Cameron convinced me to hang out with their family and we had a sort of family game night. I sat by Ethan and we talked. Grayson kept giving me strange looks. After Ethan and I beat everyone else in a game of heads up, Grayson asked me if we could talk outside. I agreed to speak with him and we went outside, taking a walk through the woods. We walked side by side until he came to a stop. He told me everything. He broke up with his girlfriend because he couldn't properly process what I told him. He begged Ethan so that they could come back to Jersey to see me. He needed to tell me how he felt and it couldn't wait. He told me how he'd loved me since I became Cameron's best friend when we were in seventh grade. He loved me through all the ups and downs, through all my breakups and his breakups. He said it was always me. He kept choosing me over and over again until he decided that I didn't like him. He started dating Casey, his ex girlfriend, because he wanted to push his feelings for me down. When I told him I loved him, he didn't know how to process it. It took him a few days but he broke up with Casey and begged Ethan to fly out with him. They did and now here we were. In the middle of the woods. Making out under the stars. Basking in the glow of our new relationship. As we made our way back to the house we held hands and I wore his jacket. I was happy. And now that leads me to today. Today is the day that Grayson and I go on our first date. Well, our first official date. I couldn't be more excited to-"

"Madi are you ready to go? The reservation is in an hour and-" he opens the door to find me sitting in front of the computer.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm watching the video where I explain our relationship."

"You haven't posted it?"

"No, I'm scared people will judge us. They know me as Cameron's best friend. They ship you and I which I'm flattered by of course but-"

"Babe, if people can't see how happy we are with each other then f**k them. We deserve to be happy. We've pushed aside our feelings for too long. I want to be happy with you whether they support us or not."

I smile at him and lean up on my toes to kiss him, "Thank you for being such an amazing boyfriend. I love you so much."

"Yeah yeah, I've heard it all before."

I gasp as he chuckles. I punch his shoulder and walk past him.

"Madi," he draws out following me, "come on baby you know I'm just kidding. I love you too."

He hugs me from behind and presses a kiss to my temple. I look at us in his bathroom mirror and sigh.

"We really do look good together."

"Imagine how we'd look with a kid, the world couldn't handle it."

"Grayson- I told you no talk about kids yet. You're still twenty, calm down."

"I can't calm down babe, you'd look so gorgeous being pregnant."

I glare at him and scrunch my nose in the mirror, "Don't tempt me. I love you and I want to get married and have a few kiddos but we're still young. Plus," I turn around in his arms to face him, "we need to get married first and that won't be anytime soon."

Grayson smiles, thinking about the ring box that currently sits in his nightstand, "Yeah you're right. But I think it'll be sooner than you think."

He presses his lips to mine as my mind is clouded with thoughts of our soon to be blissful forever.

*******

Thinking about making a part two, let me know what you guys think!

Also I’m sorry if me tagging you in my stories is a problem :(

Tag list: @grantzarrr @fangdolan @luxplsr @blindedbythelightt @rhyrhy462 @333dolans

[shivae]

Misdirection

Got an idea that won’t leave me alone... however, I need to watch the movie again to get the sequence done correctly, although I think I have it from memory. I may have forgotten some details. :D  This occurs immediately AFTER Bog’s ‘Mistreated’ performance.  I think I need to double-check Marianne’s positioning off the stage and rewrite a bit of that before posting it.  I won’t post it until it’s complete though. NOT EDITED AT ALL! Forgive the errors!

So what if that potion hit Bog... I’m sure it’s been done. How could it not have been?

    So many things happened at once that Marianne couldn't keep track of them. Her priority was rescuing her sister before the goblins got to her. Marianne flew into her sister, grabbing her around the waist. Dawn yelped and at that moment, the goblin king broke out of his song, looking in their direction. "No!" Sunny screeched as the love potion flew through the air, the lid in his hands. Glittering pink potion erupted from the opening, completely dousing the Bog King in a cloud of pink. He sneezed violently, whirring his wings to dissipate the dust. The empty bottle clattered to the ground and rolled, disintegrating into a cloud of white sparkles now that it no longer contained any potion. The music died as the goblins stared at their king. Everyone's eyes were fixed on him as he stood frozen, his own eyes open wide as he gazed at the two princesses with a perplexed expression. A moment before, his blue eyes were cold glinting pieces of ice beneath a dark brow, now they were open wide, gleaming with an intense brightness. Then, he began singing again, the same song, but it changed. "I've been mistreated…" Bog gazed at both princesses, his voice beginning low and rising with intensity. "I've been abused. I've been struck downhearted, baby, I've been confused." Marianne made a face at him as he came closer, moving protectively in front of her sister, who wrapped her arms around her and attempted to hide behind her wings. "I've been lonely, I've been cold, I've been looking for a woman to have and hold." The words came out in a pleading tone as Bog stopped before them, bowing and holding out his hand, his eyes meeting Marianne's. "Get back." Marianne growled in response, moving a step away. "I've been mistreated, I've been abused." Bog's voice came out soulfully sad, his hand still held out as he lowered himself further. His eyes. Marianne's anger suddenly fell away, realizing the Bog King was under the full effect of the love potion. Up close, his eyes were dilated, gleaming such a shade of blue that it was disarming. "Okay, now, just back away, Bog King." She glanced around for her sword and Bog followed her eyes, seeing it at the same time. Without hesitation, he flew to her sword, withdrew it from the wood and returned to her, bowing to present it to her across both palms. "Uh." Marianne knit her eyebrows together, realizing in his current condition, the danger had passed, however, now they had a new problem. "Thank you." She took her sword and he rose up proudly, smiling at the acknowledgement. "What is going on?" Dagda huffed, joining them. "Bog King, you need to leave and take your goblins with you. You have no right to be here." "Everyone, leave!" Bog turned and shouted to his goblins, who stared at him for a moment, then slowly retreated into the shadows. "Return to the castle!" "Dad, he was hit by the love potion," groaned Marianne. Dawn nodded from behind her. Bog turned to Dagda, bowing low, something which stunned the old king. He had encountered the Bog King before and while the goblin king was normally formal, he was typically curt and didn't waste words. "King Dagda, I request permission to court yer daughters." Bog asked the question quickly, without any signs of reserve. "What?" Dagda gaped at Bog. "Dawn is too young for marriage and Marianne has a suitor." "Dad, I do not," groaned Marianne. "And I don't want one either!" "Oh." Bog hung his head sadly, then he lifted it quickly with a smile. "Then I will watch them and keep them safe." "You can't do that, you're the King of the Dark Forest, Bog." Dagda pointed out. "I love them." Bog sighed heavily, a wistful look on his face. "I can not leave them." "Okay, the Sugar Plum Fairy makes love potions. She's his captive, so we just need to go back with him to his castle to get her to make an antidote." Marianne began formulating a plan, glancing around the stage, where she saw various elves and fairies gathered, staring at the Bog King. Sunny stood with them, looking extremely nervous. "Antidote? I am not poisoned," stated Bog. "You might as well be," groaned Marianne. Bog smiled at her, gazing through half lidded eyes. "What is yer name, goddess of the evening?" Bog bowed again. Marianne groaned even loader. "Marianne." "And yours, morning flower?" Bog motioned to Dawn, who giggled in response, stepping out from behind her sister. "I'm Dawn!" She stepped forward, fluttering her wings and taking Bog's hand. He lifted it to politely kiss it. "A lovely name for a beautiful woman." Bog smiled and Dawn giggled more. Both Dagda and Marianne groaned in response, with Marianne coming up behind her sister and grabbing her by the shoulders. "He's not so scary," whispered Dawn, still tittering. "Stay away from him," growled Marianne protectively. "Is there anything I can do for ye, Marianne?" Bog bowed once again, making an offer. Marianne smiled, spotting a bit of gleaming green armor hidden behind a leaf near the stage. Roland was watching them. "You know what, there is something you can do for me, Bog King." "What is it?" "Marianne." Dagda followed Marianne's gaze to Roland's hiding place. "See that fairy in the green armor." Marianne stepped forward, taking Bog's hand, making him turn with her. She pointed, grinning. "That is my ex-suitor." Marianne whispered as Bog leaned in close. "I do not want him anywhere near me. Can you take care of him?" "Marianne!" Dagda gasped, overhearing the conversation. "Don't kill him." Marianne rolled her eyes and gave Bog a gentle push in Roland's direction, hoping to get rid of both of them with that action.

[things2mustdo]

I doubt anyone needs to be reminded that the media is rotten to the core; even the most reluctant and closed-minded people are accepting this as a given now. But despite the media being widely condemned nowadays (my special thanks to Germans for bringing the word “Lügenpresse” back), few people know or understand what’s really going on in the journalistic kitchens, where the foul slop of lies that people are fed every day is cooked up. However, there is always a way in—through purposeful infiltration or, in my case, by accident.

I have an old friend—let’s call him Sven—whom I always knew as a kind-hearted and sincere man. However, these traits are also coupled with always assuming the best of people and being rather naive. Due to this, he keeps ending up in awkward and sometimes dangerous situations. One of them turned out to be a short stint as a journalist for a popular online newspaper. He barely maintained contact during his employment and eventually went completely off the grid. In about a month, he resurfaced a changed man, and not for the better. As he explained, he quit the job and then shut himself in for a while, armed with nothing but alcohol, to cope with the depression working as a journalist gave him.

Now, this probably sounds very soft to many of you, including myself. Men don’t sink into depressions or try to drink themselves out of problems. While I granted my friend the clemency of explaining his failures to him, I also recognized the usefulness of his experience and started questioning him about what he saw and heard at the job. I will relay his findings below; however, I will not disclose his true name or the name of his employer—given the “free” country we live in, this can land him in very hot water.

Whoever pays you, owns you

Sven joined the ranks of journalists to tell people the truth. To his credit, he believed he would be doing exactly that. His first assignment sounded so simple, after all—talk to a person, record the conversation, write an article, publish it. The reality turned out to be diametrically different—after our fresh-baked journalist returned from his first interview, he was immediately ordered to transcribe the recording and email it to the content manager. Half an hour later Sven received a heavily edited version of the transcript, with the parts he considered most crucial replaced with meaningless buzzwords or removed completely. When he went to the manager to voice his indignation, the manager simply replied: “This man did not pay us for an article that would disparage him. Get back to your desk.”

This was far from the only case of Sven witnessing how much pull money has in journalism. His numerous colleagues almost never produced independent content—they were too busy publishing one paid article after another. When Sven asked whether these articles should be marked as sponsored, the only reply he got was a bitter laugh. Very often the content manager would come over to his desk and say something along the lines of “Do you know the guy you are writing about is a close friend of our boss? Do not screw this article up.” Sven was also surprised to see that many interviewees (usually politicians) would not even bother to talk to him, instead referring him to their secretaries or assistants. One of them even went as far as to hand him a pre-written speech, tell him to work with it and walk away.

However, our Sven also happens to possess a burning sense of justice, which has several times led him to ignore the “recommendations” his content manager gave him, deviate from the official story and allow small snippets of truth to make their way into public view. For each of such occurrences he was called to the manager’s room, given a strict admonishment and had his paycheck for the month reduced. Any “unsanctioned” things that he wrote were quickly edited away afterwards—even if the article had already been read by thousands of people. And his was supposed to be a “neutral and objective” media outlet!

Standards? Never heard of ’em.

It was a big shock for Sven when he finally realized that his employers were beings without conscience who whored themselves out to the highest bidder. It was an even bigger shock when he discovered how nonchalantly his colleagues treated their responsibilities. Investigative journalists relied on information they got from Google searches and Twitter posts, editors and sub-editors used rumors and hearsay to write scathing op-eds, website managers just posted any content that caught their fancy as long as they could come up with a flashy enough headline for it to attract people. Fact-checking was almost unheard of, unless someone specifically paid for it.

When it came to choosing topics and writing articles, the guideline for the entire establishment was simple: do not make the people angry. Not the regular people, mind you—those were not even considered human beings, just a faceless mass that one threw articles at and got pageviews and money in return. No, the label “people” was reserved for people who mattered. This included representatives of the powers that be, well-known public figures, moneybags with fingers in the political pie and, of course, personal buddies of the outlet’s owner.

These were to be protected, coddled and praised at all costs, while everyone else was fair game. Needless to say, politics held as much sway in the outlet as money did—whenever something noteworthy happened, “protectors of truth and objectivity” immediately went to work spinning the events in a way desirable for those holding their leashes. Hit pieces against political opponents and undesirables were churned out, smokescreens were cast, facts were omitted, denied and misinterpreted. Sven confessed to me later that the day his outlet covered the parliamentary elections was the first day in his life when he spent the entire evening drinking. Journalistic ethics, a term that the media loves throwing left and right, turned out to be nothing but hot air.

In the media omelet, you are an egg

The title says it all. For top dogs in the media business, a rank-and-file worker is not just a pawn—he is a condom. Contrary to what many people think, a typical journalist’s existence is quite pathetic: underpaid, undervalued, thankless and constantly bossed around. Staff turnover in the “kitchen” is very high, and not because people are getting promoted. In this field, the term “veteran employee” frequently means a poor sod who has no alternatives and cannot quit.

According to Sven, plenty of his colleagues worked only for the sake of getting their paycheck, which explains their negligence. Grey faces, pinched mouths, shifty eyes and sour attitudes—whatever it takes to get through the day. In addition, the higher-ups avoided any responsibility for the published content: whenever an angry reader called the office and complained about an article, the guy who wrote it was immediately thrown under the bus, even if his work was reviewed and approved by the management before publication. After all, what does it take to find another office drone with half-decent writing skills?

However, Sven also describes those of his coworkers who enjoyed their job. They arrived at the office with a spring in their step, a smile snaking across their faces and a mischievous glint in their eyes. These were the “talented” favorites of the outlet’s boss—unfeeling, cold assholes who would sell their own mothers for a juicy piece of gossip that they would later smear all over the website. Whenever they got a chance to write a hit piece, spread a nasty rumor or ruin someone’s life, one could almost see them light up from within. Remember all these smug, holier-than-thou, oh-so-intellectual articles churned out by rags like Salon, Dagens Nyheter and Huffington Post? You can bet your pinky finger they were (and are) written by these people. Which brings us to the next topic.

No wrongthink allowed

As you have probably noticed long ago, the media field is a huge and accommodating Petri dish for all varieties of Kulturbolschewismus. In Sven’s case, it wasn’t just a fear-based company policy of snitching and self-censorship, but an actual agenda at work. He told me there was a flowchart hanging in the newsroom explaining what to do when reporting crimes and incidents. It went something like this: “Was the perpetrator native (white)? Y = report in detail, amplify, N = gloss the details over, downplay.”

Sven wrote an article about a national holiday once, but his content manager refused to approve it for publishing due to it being “too patriotic,” advising him instead to “write more inclusively about minorities’ participation in the festival.” Anything praising the country and its indigenous inhabitants was undesirable and omitted whenever possible, while any piece that brimmed with self-hate, praised inhabitants of other (read: African and Muslim) countries or attacked the natives and their way of life was a big hit and flew through approval like a bird.

Needless to say, the outlet’s newsroom was crammed full of women, their pet cucks and, of course, Jews. The former enjoyed absolute power regardless of their position—a simple complaint to HR was enough to fire anyone, no proof required. The cucks, represented by twig-armed, piercing-laden, wispy-bearded creatures in Che Guevara shirts, were very pleased with the way things were going, sipping lattes and snitching to HR on those who expressed ideas incompatible with the narrative. Jews were in their native element in the newsroom, doing their usual “arrogant intellectual” schtick and getting promotions out of nowhere. The majority of articles bashing natives, their culture and values came from them, as later study of the newspaper’s website showed me.

Liars for hire

So, to sum it all up: the media is not composed of good but misguided people, as many still think. On the contrary, it is a very purposeful and self-aware entity that positions itself somewhere between an unscrupulous opportunist and a loyal lapdog of the state. At best, it is faux-patriotic (“such a wonderful country we have, let’s invite more immigrants!”), while at worst, it is openly hostile towards the indigenous population of the country it exists in.

Moreover, it allows for consolidation and self-affirmation of globalist forces—the traitorous governments, the world Jewry, the multinationals, the entertainment industry and the like—against the increasingly disenfranchised and declining native population. And last but not least, the media is complicit in crimes committed in the West by non-White immigrants due to purposeful obfuscation of them and, if that fails, rabble-rousing to pressure the courts into letting the criminals off scot-free. To me, the latter reason alone is enough to send all the journalists and their owners to the gibbet.

The bottom line is to always remember that the media is not your friend in any way, shape or form, even if its lowest tier operatives fit the description of hapless victims rather than nation-wrecking enemies. The media must be opposed, exposed and boycotted at every turn until it starts bleeding money and choking on its own venom.

Read More: Is Washington Post Writer Adam Taylor A Shill Or Part Of Something Larger?

While reading  Roosh’s article about Adam Taylor and the Washington Post, I noticed quite a few things I would like to share with people here. The direct link between Adam Taylor and the Radio Free excerpt is an anomaly. Such blatant copying is a very rare thing to occur because it gives away a possible collusion between entities.

Looking for these open relationships is long and hard. The better way to analyze  the relations and motivations of certain publishers, policy makers and other manipulators  is to study the various themes they put out and where these themes repeat. While Roosh  might assume that Adam Taylor is the paid shill by himself, I’ve noticed that his writing changes to whoever publishes it. Therefore the Washington Post Worldviews section may be the one that is parroting US State Department themes not just Adam Taylor.

As is shown in Roosh’s article, the similarities between Adam Taylor’s piece and Radio Free Europe are quite telling. It is a possibility that it is a coincidence but a small one. People that try to influence public opinion go to great lengths to ensure things like this do not happen which is why I’m assuming that Adam Taylor is  part of larger machine and not a shill by himself.

Looking back at Adam Taylor’s writing for the Huffington Post, he wrote fluff pieces about gay dogs and other mass consumption items for that audience. His writing about geopolitical intrigue only takes the current form when he begins writing for the Washington Post. All his articles are the Who’s Who of what the US State Department doesn’t like. The roster includes Russia, China, Venezuela, Syria, and Zimbabwe. He writes nothing critical of any American allies.

Could this mean that his change in format indicate that someone turned him? I doubt it. Compare his work at the Washington Post to the rest of the “world views” section there, his writing is merely a contribution to a giant echo chamber and not unique to him.

As I said earlier, it’s very rare for open evidence of collusion such as the similar quotations to present themselves. A better technique to discern propaganda and collusion is to analyze trends and themes.You should look for such things as what the work attempts to convey, does it try to get you to think or act in a certain way, and does it try to get you to disregard other things.

In the Adam Taylor case, the pattern changes significantly from the Huffington Post to the Washington Post. You can also apply this trend analysis to pretty much any author. You can even apply to the contributors here at  Return of Kings and see what you get. Do the trends indicate that the publisher may dictate what the writers write about? Do the trends indicate whether or not the writers have freedom to write about whatever they want? To help you readers out on this exercise I’ll inform you there were two articles I did at the direction of the publisher. They were my article for fat shaming week and my article for #backtothekitchen.  Feel free to comment on any other trends you might notice and if they do not line up with the “about” page.

[aion-rsa]

The Simpsons Season 32 Episode 17 Review: Uncut Femmes

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This The Simpsons review contains spoilers.

The Simpsons Season 32 Episode 17

The Simpsons Season 32, episode 17, ” Uncut Femmes,” is a caper comedy, and criminals Sarah Wiggum (Megan Mullally) and Fat Tony (Joe Mantegna) steal every scene they are in. Over the course of the jewel heist parody at the center of the installment, we learn Chief Wiggum’s wife has a shady past, and the neighborhood mob boss has a paternal presence. They don’t have any scenes together, but they make crime pay off, and prove two or so wrongs can make a right.

“Oh, my hallway-walking God,” the episode opens, as a workplace atrocity leads to a nondisclosure agreement which results in two front-row seats at a Bob Seger concert. The rock star plays himself, but goes against the wind. Yes, this is the Silver edition of his Bullet Band, but when he learns both Homer and Chief Wiggum dumped an overnight field trip with the kids on their wives to make the show, he feels obliged to remind them: a wife, like rock and roll, never forgets. Who knew a Detroit belter like Seger could throw such guilt?

The trip is to a World War II battleship, retrofitted to look like it did back in May 1943. That was the last time it was scrubbed, and the kids and wives get keelhauled into breaking up everything but the barnacles. They swab the decks and are told they’re killing Oxees, which sounds enough like Nazis for Springfield Elementary. Nick Offerman voices Captain Bowditch, who Sarah Wiggum calls Captain Dingdong before robbing his liquor cabinet and sharing a bottle with Marge.  

The police chief’s wife also shares some unexpectedly relatable problems, like the pressures of being married to “a man with a dangerous job he’s just not good at” But her best comic line is about her husband’s health, and how every slice of cheese could be his last. The bonding scene is very effective, warm and witty. Both women give up so much because they are mothers.

Sarah Wiggum gave up a glitzy and glamorous life of crime, like the Ocean’s 8 masterminds. She was the getaway driver on the famed “Hourglass Diamond” heist. Her story is broken down in a flashback sequence with subtitles like “The Grab,” “The Camaraderie,” and “The Double Cross.” To give historical perspective, one of the items which the young thieves steal, while listening to Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl,” are MP3 players which held over 300 songs. 

In the segment entitled “The Honey Pot,” Sarah explains her own role in the robbery. “The Chump” denotes when she met Clancy Wiggum, then a mere security guard, working his way through one of his many attempts at passing the police academy. “I love a man in a rented uniform,” she says. 

Marge had to miss the one event she gets to share with her sisters’ friends, which includes the crumbs of the crème de la crème of Springfield’s LGBTQ community: Watching the annual Gen Gala on TV and making scathing remarks. Marge is jonesing for snark. She’s got an itch to throw good shade. This would be a blast to hear from Marge, who is “still working up the courage to call a man the B word.” This year’s Gala is themed, “The Audacity.” The prior year was called “The Nerve.  Marge breaks her usual reserve to tell Rihanna she listens “to the clean versions of all your songs.”

Marge is so consistently Marge-like, so clearly defined within the vantage point the series has set up for her. Marge’s first words, when trying to start a conversation with Sarah, are “the top 10 ways of starting a conversation.” When she is kidnapped, she observes whoever had the bag over their face before her was a smoker. Julie Kavner also pulls off amazing physical comedy in this episode, even though it’s vocal acrobatics. When Marge is bound by Sarah’s old gang, she hops away – chair, pole and all – to allow them to scheme. She points to their scheme-board with her high mound of hair, which she later uses to blur surveillance cameras. Kavner’s inquisitive or insistent moans fuel every blue follicle.

To distract the mark, Lindsey Naegle, Marge makes small talk about common household chores the VIP would never do herself, like paying attention to whether you switch delicates to extra warm when you’re doing laundry. “You’re not famous, so you don’t exist,” Lindsey, who pocketed the diamond for herself to buy a celebrity lifestyle, snorts at Marge. Her husband, Springfield’s beloved Rainier Luftwaffe Wolfcastle, takes this gag to an absurd conclusion. Wolfcastle has no idea what the two were talking about when he enters the scene, but he is more blinded by his celebrity. He asks his wife why she’s talking to an empty chair. It’s all a punchline which lands on “somebody stop those nobodies,” a masterful twist of social restraint.

Ultimately, one of the snarkiest lines turns out to be a comment on Marge, when she makes a very surprising appearance at the Gala. But only because “she looks like dirt” walking a red carpet designed for 20 plus-size gladiators to carry Beyoncé. The snide aside comes across as exactly what Marge would’ve wanted.

The episode has plenty of successful throwaway sight gags. Homer closes shop at his post at the nuclear plant with the same kind of cage storefronts lock up with after hours. We’re not sure if this means the workers on the other side are locked in the workspace without emergency supervision for the whole weekend, though.

The kidnapping is first reported by Chief Wiggum’s son, Ralph, who was watch commander on deck. Fat Tony will come to be simpatico with Ralph in hysterically edgy ways later in the episode. They both “know nothing about nothing.” Until he met Ralph, Fat Tony thought putting crumbled Oreos on ice cream would be redundant, but now finds it transcendent. It is like a grooming process; the police chief’s son even begins wearing a matching fur coat. And when a kid behind an ice cream counter tells Ralph not to grab at the Gummy Bears, Fat Tony says “if the boy wants this the boy wants to smooch, the boy will spook smooch.” He could be telling The Bronx Tale. Ralph’s rejoinder, “I love you, scary daddy,” is so in keeping with his character of cluelessly deranged innocence.

When Homer and Wiggum first learn their wives are missing, the police chief immediately blames Fat Tony. The reputed, reported, alleged and convicted crime boss is plainly being honest when he says he would never even consider such a crime. First of all, how would he finish the sentence “it would be a shame if something were to happen to?” 

Wiggum is very important to crime in the town. This episode points out how it flourishes under his lazy watchful eye. Fat Tony loves “Chief Bungles” because he’s a horrible cop. Even Sarah admits her husband is “better at planting evidence than finding it.” But, more importantly to Fat Tony, the chief loves the top cop because he is a selfish man. He’s on the take from Burns, Fat Tony, and we know from past episodes he’s in on schemes with Mayor Quimby. But some things, even a cartoon mob boss cannot forget.

Fat Tony is surprisingly woke in his off hours. It’s the espresso. His men only yell respectful innuendoes at attractive women. The boss not only tutors Homer and Clancy on ways to respect their wives, but takes care of Ralphie while he lets the men fix their marriages. The male gaze is all over this episode, and it gets poked in the eye repeatedly. From WWII books to gender-trading action movie remakes. The real Silver bullet is the truth. Seger’s concert T-shirt is actually a list of things he has to get done to keep his marriage happy, including getting a C-PAP for his snoring.

For Homer, this change is as sweet as a donut, the ordeal makes him notice what Marge looks like when she’s happy. Clancy realizes, for the first time in his long career, that there is a museum in town. At their heart, Homer and the Chief are really only paying attention to their wives for themselves. Oh, and for Bob Seger, they did promise him that. The lesson they learn when confronted with their selfish ways is: “it’s all about us.”

The final part of the scheme earns its subtitle as the exact kind of surprise double revenge twist we have come to expect from this genre. The only difference is what kind of spin the parody will take. Things have a special way of falling on The Simpsons. In a classic early episode, Homer took a memorable tumble down the rocky edges of a cliff in a failed daredevil stunt. So, he knows to get out of the way when Lindsey comes tumbling down the stairs at the Gala. She tumbles long enough for Wolfcastle to find a newer, younger, more trophy of a wife. In real life the fall would have killed her, and Marge would feel terrible. Thank god for animation. Kids, don’t try this at home.

“This isn’t about the cash, it’s about righting a wrong and looking damn good doing it,” Sarah convincingly explains when she lays out the premise of the heist. By the end, Marge declares it “best field trip of my freaking life,” which is what the episode seems to be going for. It’s fun, more fun than most school trips, and it teaches a lesson.

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“Uncut Femmes” is a fun and playful movie satire. It captures the suspense, romance, glamour and pace of a heist film, but puts The Simpsons touch on it. Marge shines in the unexpected, manages to clean house at the same time, and brings Homer into an understanding. The crooks get away with it, and nothing will change. Like so many crimes in Springfield, it’s got Chief Wiggum on the case, and that’s like having no one at all.

The post The Simpsons Season 32 Episode 17 Review: Uncut Femmes appeared first on Den of Geek.

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Wish You Were Gay ~jjk

Hey y’all! This is my first official post here on Tumblr, so I really hope you guys enjoy it! 

Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader (f), Bestfriend!Jimin x Bestfriend!reader (f)

Genre: Angst, fluff

Friends To Lovers!

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, arguing, Jeongguk is oblivious and doesn’t know that you’ve had a crush on him for SO LONG, kind of slow burn???? But like not really??

I apologize if there’s any mistakes in the writing, I’ll probably go back and edit this post just in case i see something off, but i really hope you enjoy!

“How’d that date with that girl from last night go Jimin-ah?” Namjoon queried as Jimin looked up from his lap and smiled widely.

“It was so amazing! I really like her,” Jimin’s lips turned upward into a shy grin, his cheeks dusted with a tint of pink.

All of his band members smiled and started to tease him, making the boy giggle and wave them all off with his hand. Y/N  giggled and sat back on the couch, looking at Jimin before she heard Jin speak.

“And you Y/N? Anyone caught your eye?” 

Y/N snapped out of her hazy daze and looked up at Jin, her calm expression faltering into a slightly doleful one. She gave a weak smile towards Jin and then flashed her gaze towards his band member Jungkook quickly before looking back at him.

“Um, I-I like someone, but he-he doesn’t really like me,” Y/N admitted, looking down at her lap to play with her fingers nimbly.

“Well who is it? Maybe we can help you!” Jeongguk offered with his dashing smile, Y/N feeling her heart rip itself out of her chest at the sight of him.

“O-oh, no you don’t know him. It’s okay, thanks though!” Y/N tried to sound more cheerful to lie to everyone, making them think that this guy was some mystery man who they’d never met before.

The truth was that it was actually Jeongguk. Jeongguk had been her crush ever since she’d first started hanging out with the boys. The youngest member had always been so nice to her, always giving her advice and inviting her over whenever she was bored or needed someone to talk to, he’d even helped her when her anxiety was acting up and got her through a panic attack. Plus, he was really attractive and that was enough to make Y/N slowly wrap herself around his finger without him even knowing it.

The conversation steered away from love lives into dance practice for the boys, Jeongguk, Hoseok, and Namjoon standing up to go and practice their dance routine for their next show. Jimin, Jin, Tae, Suga, and Y/N were the only ones left in the room. 

“Y/N, you have to stop doing this to yourself,” Tae admitted, looking into her eyes in a grief-stricken manner.

She looked up and acted like she didn’t know what he was talking about, turning to Jimin who was looking at her the same was as everyone else in the room. 

“He doesn’t know about it and maybe it’s better if he doesn’t. I don’t wanna ruin what we have right now anyways,”

Yoongi shook his head disapprovingly, sighing as he rested his head into the palms of his hands at her response. 

“Y/N, you can’t keep lying to him. It’s going to build up until you just burst and it’s going to be too overwhelming for him to comprehend it and it’s gonna make you feel worse than you do now!”

Jimin nodded and held his friend close to him, the tears that fell down her cheeks blankly making him pull her in for a hug. Y/N sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, looking up at the four boys sitting in front of her. 

She wanted to admit her feelings for him, it’s all she’s ever wanted to do. But he’d always talk about some girl he’d met at the MNET music awards. He’d gotten her phone number after they bumped into each other while he was walking back to his seat and she was all he’d talk about nowadays. It broke Y/N’s heart but she didn’t want to say anything since he seemed so happy when he’d talk about her.

“There’s no point in telling him anyways, he’s too obsessed with Mina to care about my feelings,” She spoke hoarsely, all of the members frowning at her answer, their hearts filling to the brim with pity.

“But, I will at some point I guess, before it gets too serious with him and Mina. I don’t want him to be in a relationship and then I tell him,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was going to tell him about her feelings today. She had finally decided to put on her bravest face and rehearsed what she was going to say nearly a hundred times. She was at his bedroom door, her hand reaching up to press her knuckles against the wood of his door. When she heard a soft hum from behind the door she opened it, but the sight was too much for her to bear.

“Y/N!” Jeongguk jumped, pulling his lips away from none other than the woman of the hour, Mina. 

Y/N’s breathing picked up and she could feel her heart shatter into thousands of shards, cutting the inside of her body that now burned. She looked at Mina and then Jeongguk, both of them sitting on his bed with messy hair and swollen lips, the two of them looking at her like she'd just murdered someone. Y/N muttered a soft apology before sprinting away from his room, the sound of the front door getting thrown open making Jeongguk sprint outside right behind her.

The hard rain pounded against her head, but it didn’t hurt half as bad as seeing Jeongguk with Mina did. Her tears blended in with the droplets of cold water splashing onto her skin, her flushed face relaxing at the feeling of the drizzle of cool water surging down her cheeks. She stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulder, the sound of Jeongguk’s tired breaths ringing in her ears.

She turned around and faced him, his face red from running after her as he doubled over, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He took one look at her and everything came crashing down for him, his heart breaking at the sight of her crying in front of him. 

“Y-Y/N you weren’t supposed to see that,” Jeongguk stuttered out, still slightly out of breath when he spoke.

“No. I-it’s fine. I should’ve waited for a more forward answer,” Y/N replied, furrowing her eyebrows as she let more tears fall down her cheeks when she blinked.

“W-What were you going to say? Did something happen?” His hand caressed her cheek and instead of nuzzling into it like she always did, she ripped her face away from his warm palm, the skin feeling colder than ever without his touch.

“Y-yeah, you-you know what? Something did happen, Jeongguk. And I was supposed to fix it right now by telling you, but this just proved my point.” She snapped. “I was stupid for thinking that I should take everyone’s advice,” 

Jeongguk wore a confused expression on his face as Y/N rambled, her voice cracking with dysphoria. She met his gaze and he could see how puffy and bloodshot her eyes were, her hair damp and dripping wet, the sounds of her tears and the beads of rain falling onto the concrete making the same feeble sound.

“What advice? And what were you supposed to fix Y/N? I don’t understand,”

The girl scoffed and looked down at her feet, trying her hardest not to embarrass herself by wailing and screaming. She already drew enough attention to herself, she didn’t need more attention drawn to her. Before she could open her mouth, Mina came up from behind Jungkook, one of his hoodies draped over her head. Y/N’s favorite hoodie of his to wear. Actually, it was the one he reserved in his closet for her. Whenever she was feeling sad, he’d designated a specific hoodie of his for her to wear, and now Mina was wearing it.

That was when Y/N realized that there was no going back on her anger now. She looked up at the boy in front of her and furiously wiped her tears, letting out a loud hiccup as she tried to speak, sniffling and closing her eyes as she leaned down slightly, her body racking with sobs before she made eye contact with him again.

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO FIX THIS JEONGGUK, I WAS SUPPOSED TO FIX WHAT I DID WRONG,” Y/N wailed, Jeongguk’s expression softening when he heard her start to yell.

“DO YOU JUST LET ANY GIRL WHERE THE HOODIE YOU SAID WAS FOR ME? DO YOU TREAT EVERY GIRL THE SAME?” She shouted. “Maybe I just misunderstood,”

Jeongguk turned around to see Mina in the hoodie he’d given to her and he felt his heart wrench with guilt. He asked Mina to go back inside and put the hoodie away, not wanting her to wear it when Y/N was the only girl who’d ever worn it. 

“Y-Y/N, no. No, I don’t treat every girl the same. I swear, whatever I did with you was genuine, and-and special, I swear,”

“You don’t have to lie to me Jeongguk,” Y/N whimpered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands once more. 

She was shivering, she was so cold, but she didn’t even care. She just wanted to run away and get away from him, to just leave and never have to see him again. He took note of her shivering and reached his arms out to her, wanting to warm her up with his touch. She ripped herself away from him once more and let out another cough.

“DON’T TOUCH ME JEONGGUK,” She screamed. “BECAUSE THEN I WON’T BE ABLE TO FIX ANYTHING, YOU’RE JUST GOING TO RUIN IT AND I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO TELL YOU WHAT I WANTED TO,”

Jeongguk was so confused, he just wanted to know what was wrong and the fact that she was being hysterical wasn’t able to help him help her. 

“What do you want to fix Y/N? What’s making you so angry?” 

She’d completely lost her cool at that mere comment. Why was it so hard to confess feelings for someone? Why did she have to fall for him when he clearly didn’t like her back? She just wanted to shrivel up and crawl into a ball. 

“YOU. YOU, JEONGGUK! YOU’RE THE PROBLEM,” Y/N bawled, her voice raw and hoarse. “YOU MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU AND YOU’VE COMPLETELY RUINED ME,”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened and he nearly fell backwards, the reality of it all finally hitting him. She had caught feelings for him. She was in love with him. 

“AND ALL YOU TALK ABOUT IS MINA RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME AND YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE SHIT FOR EVEN THINKING THAT YOU COULD EVER LIKE ME BACK! I WANTED TO TELL YOU, I-I TRIED SO HARD BUT I COULD NEVER BRING MYSELF TO DO IT,”

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU RIGHT NOW AND SEEING YOU WITH HER MADE ME WANT TO GAUGE MY FUCKING EYES OUT! I DIDN’T WANT TO CATCH FEELINGS BECAUSE I KNOW YOU DON’T LOVE ME, BUT I DID AND I COULDN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT,”

Y/N stopped to catch her breath, her comments coming out of her mouth so fast that she was scared she’d lose air from how fast she’d spoken to him. Part of her was wishing that he hadn’t understood her so she could’ve said how she felt and he wouldn’t have said anything and they could go back to normal. But he’d heard every word, and it sucked.

“JUST-j-just say something, p-please,”

She looked into his eyes to see him wearing the same expression as before, his dark brown doe-like eyes widened in fear and his mouth agape, his arms in an awkward position when she finally asked him to answer her.

“Y-Y/N, I-”

She knew it. He didn’t feel the same way. She didn’t know why she followed the boys’ advice. She knew it was too stupid of her.

“Just forget any of this happened,”

With that, Y/N walked all the way back home in the rain, part of Jeongguk yearning to go after her to talk to her, but his feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete, his hair falling in front of his face, blocking the view he head of her walking away with her head down and her arms crossed over her chest. 

He wanted to speak. He had so much he wanted to tell her, he wanted everything to come out but it wouldn’t, it just got caught in his throat. Standing in the rain gave him time to think to himself finally, the sound of it against his ears and pounding against the top of his head making him finally realize,

He was in love with her too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week since Y/N had confessed and she looked horrible. Jimin had tried everything in his power to get Y/N out of bed to do something productive, but he was always met with her being asleep or too buried in the tissues on her bed to pull her out. 

“Jin-hyung I don’t know what to do, she won’t move, she won’t eat, I’ve had to force feed her so she doesn’t starve, I’m scared for her,” Jimin’s head was nuzzled into his hands, Jin rubbing his back comfortingly as tears fell from his eyes.

“Don’t worry Jimin, she’s going to be okay. As long as she has you she’s going to be just fine,” 

Jimin nodded and continued to hug Jin.

The next morning he woke up and Jin was gone, his eyes shooting open as he rushed into Y/N’s bedroom to make sure that she was okay. When he saw that the bed was empty and heard the toilet flush, he realized she’d finally gotten out of bed. The bathroom door opened and out came Y/N, her messy bun unkempt with hairs sticking up in every direction, dark purple bags under her eyes, stains from her tears resting on her cheeks as dark red lines.

Jimin stopped Y/N on her way back to her bed and Y/N tried to move herself out of his grasp, but once she felt Jimin’s arms wrap around her figure, she couldn’t help but hug him back as he rubbed her back comfortingly. The two best friends cried in each other’s arms, not wanting to move from their position. 

A knock at the door made both of their ears perk up, Jimin grabbing hold of Y/N’s arm as he yelled for whoever was at the door to come in while he cleaned his best friend’s face up. 

“You really worried me, you know,” Jimin stated quietly. “I didn’t know if you were alive by the fifth day of you being locked up in there,” 

Y/N looked down as Jimin placed a cold washcloth on her face to bring down the swelling under her eyes and on her cheeks. Y/N looked up through slightly damp eyelashes, apologetically glancing at Jimin’s tired and worn down expression.

“I’m sorry,” She croaked, some parts of the words fading into silence when she spoke. 

Jimin smiled softly and rubbed her arms, fixing her hair as a final touch before he took her out of the bathroom. The two friends walked out of the bathroom to head into the kitchen to order something to eat when they saw Jin. He wasn’t alone. From behind him came Jeongguk with a bouquet of lilacs, sadly looking down at his shoes.

Y/N stared at Jeongguk and felt her heart break once more, the same way it had that day, if not even harder. Jimin grabbed Y/N before she could leave and pleaded for her to stay with his eyes, Y/N sighing as she looked into Jeongguk’s eyes. Jimin hugged her tightly and walked into the kitchen to order some food. 

“You can come to my room to talk,” Y/N grunted lightly, Jeongguk nodding as he followed behind her into her dark room. 

The room was almost completely dark, the small bit of sunlight that shone through her black curtains being the only thing that lit up her room. Y/N grabbed her trashcan and picked up all of the dirty tissues and tried to somewhat make her bed look neater before Jeongguk sat down. He handed her the flowers and Y/N softly smiled, the darkness hiding it from his eyes.

“Y-Y/N I wanted to apologize… for-for not saying anything when you told me how you felt,” Jeongguk began.

“It’s fine, Yoongi warned me that if I waited too long it would happen and it did, guess I should’ve just listened to him,”

Jeongguk looked down grimly, wanting to cry himself from how horrible he felt for causing Y/N to be this way. She met his gaze through the pitch black of her room and he felt himself buckle under the pressure, letting out a shaky sigh before grabbing her hands.

“Jeongguk if you just wanted to apologize then it’s fine, I’ll get over it. I know you don’t like me, you don’t have to remind me,”

He cut her off by smashing his lips onto her own, the skin of her lips still soft despite the seven days she’d gone just letting herself cry in bed. The second he felt her kiss back he found himself grown antsy, throwing his right hand behind her neck to pull her closer while the other gripped onto the material of her shirt tightly, grabbing a fistful of it into his palm. 

They pulled away and Y/N was out of breath, not even noticing Jimin spying on them from the crack in her bedroom door. She didn’t know what to say. Now she was the one breathless as Jeongguk panted.

“Y/N, I love you,” He said it so quickly that Y/N asked him to say it again. 

“Y-you what?”

“I’m in love with you,”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She looked up at him to see that he didn’t look too hot either. Maybe not as bad as she did, but he did have bags under his eyes and his eyes were a bit bloodshot; he’d been crying over her. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when you told me you loved me, and that I didn’t go after you even though I knew I should’ve. I was just so shocked a-and scared,” 

Y/N nodded and listened to him ramble, wanting to just reconnect their lips again and forget about everything that had happened before this moment.

“I just want to be with you, I realized that you were the only girl who’d ever shown me the same amount of care I’d shown to them and it really made me think about how much I care about you,”

He gulped, blinking back a couple of tears.

“P-please, please let me love you. I really want to be with you, p-please tell me you still feel the same way,”

Y/N was crying again, but not with her knees tucked into her chest under the covers this time, no, she was crying while holding Jeongguk’s hands, listening to him admit his feelings for her, begging her to be with him.

“I-, y-yes. I want- I want to be with you. Please,”

Jeongguk nearly screamed, a scoff leaving his lips as he jumped up, lifting her into his arms as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to his figure before he reconnected their lips once more, closing the gap between them a second time.

They pulled away and rested their foreheads on each other’s, looking into each other’s eyes before smiling at each other, soft giggles protruding from their lips as they closed their eyes, finally able to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend. She never expected it to happen like this, and neither did he, but they were so glad to be in that moment. 

And that was more than enough for them.

[kookscrescent]

“Do you want to move in with me?” │ jjk

➤ pairing│Jungkook x female reader  ➤ summary│You are having apartment trouble but Jungkook knows how to fix it. ➤ rating│PG ➤ genre│fluff, boyfriend au ➤ warnings│A little bit of fluff, otherwise none ➤ word count│1k│semi edited ➤ release date│July 19th 2019 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

⇥ Masterlist

With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, you stare blankly in frustration at the computer screen in front of you.

Your lease to your apartment is about to be over in two weeks, and you have been sitting by the small kitchen table for most of the day looking for a new place to live.

Sighing in frustration you click out of the page you had pulled up. Another shit apartment! It’s been like that all day; you haven’t found one decent apartment that has even been worth going to check out. They all look deceptively good on the outside, but as soon as you click further into the post and see what the inside of the apartment looks like, its complete crap!

Shutting your computer closed, you stand and walk to the fridge to get a bottle of water. You lean against the counter taking a small sip. Your mind going over all the possibilities you currently have.

Moving back in with your parents isn’t even an option. You love them and you love being with them, but to a certain amount. You could ask one of your girlfriends if you could stay with them, just for a couple of days – a few weeks at the most, but you would feel like such a burden having to trouble them with this.

This is a nightmare, you think as you run a hand through your hair.  

A jiggle sounds from the front door, shortly followed by the door opening and a pair of heavy footsteps coming around the corner to the kitchen.

“Hey babe.” Jungkook’s deep voice cuts through the silence in the room, as he walks towards you, a smile plastered across his face.

“Hey,” you greet him back before his lips touches yours. You sigh into the kiss. Just seeing him takes some of the stress away.

He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and goes to sit on one of the chairs by the table. Taking a sip, he looks at you with a frown. You notice and try to smile, but it’s too late, he knows you way to well.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks you.

“It’s nothing,” you shrug sitting back in your chair, now facing him.

He tilts his head to the side, looking at you with raised eyebrows and a look that tells you that he isn’t buying what you’re selling.

You sigh, “Really it’s nothing babe… I’m just… frustrated, I guess.”

“With what?” he presses.

You decide to just tell him knowing that he’ll get it out of you eventually. “My lease is about to be over, and I’ve been sitting here all day looking for a new place to live. But every time I think I’ve found something great; it turns out to be utter crap.” You sulk.

Jungkook takes another sip of water, his eyes never leaving your face. “Can’t you extend it?” he asks referring to your current lease.

“I guess, but I just want something new, you know. This apartment has been great and all and I have so many amazing memories here, but with starting my new job and getting a much higher salary, I’m ready for a new chapter in my life.”

He looks deep in thought, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, he almost looks a little concerned. You mentally scold yourself! You knew you shouldn’t have troubled him with this, he’s got so much going on already and adding your problems to the list will be too much.

“But like I said, it’s nothing. I’ll figure it out.” You say with a smile and a deep breath, waving you hand dismissingly in the air between you.

“I have an idea.” He says after a few silent moments.

“Really?” You say surprised. “You know someone that has an apartment I can rent?”

“Yes. Mine.” He says completely serious.

“Then where would you live?” you ask dumbfounded.

Jungkook’s laugh meets your ears, and for a few seconds you’re confused. Your mouth forms an O as realization dawns upon you.

“Oh,” is all that leaves your lips. He can’t seriously be asking you to move in to the dorms with him and the boys.

“Yes, oh.” he repeats.

“Jungkook, I can’t live with you at the dorm.” You explain. Seven guys and one girl all living together in one dorm… Sure, it’s a big dorm, but it would be too much. You know how rowdy they can be, and you also need your privacy.

“I’m not talking about the dorm.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“I bought an apartment near Seoul forest,” he calmly tells you, leaving you stunned.

He bought an apartment? “When did you buy an apartment?” you ask confused.

“The sale was finalized a few days ago. I was planning on telling you either today or tomorrow, but I guess today it is.”

“Wow,” you mumble in surprise. You don’t know much about that area, but you do know that most of the apartments located near Seoul forest are expensive as hell!

“So, what do you say?”

“What?” you’re too busy calculating the cost of the apartment in your head, to follow his train of thought.

Laughing he leans forward, capturing your hands in his larger ones and looks you dead in the eyes with a blinding smile. “Do you want to move in with me?”

Right! Move in with him, that’s what you were talking about!

You go over the pros and cons of living together in your head, and the pros heavily outweighs the cons. There really only is one con…

“But how will that work with the guys?” you ask concerned. “You can’t just move out of the dorm to move in with me on the other side of town. I’m sure they won’t like that.” You don’t want to cause them any problems by this.

“Don’t worry about that,” he reassures you. “Both Yoongi hyung and hoseok hyung have bought apartments in the same complex as me, and we’re looking into doing the same thing for the rest of the boys. That way we’ll all still be really close together.”

Well that makes sense. That makes this so much easier!

“Well then… yes!” you almost yell as you throw yourself into his arms, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss.

Thank you so much for reading! Don’t forget to like and/or reblog if you liked it! It really means a lot to me ❀

All Rights Reserved © 2020 Kookscrescent

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Midge!

You have been accepted for the role of ANDROMEDA TONKS with the faceclaim change of Gemma Arterton! We really enjoyed how the old prejudices come out with your Andromeda, all while trying to combat them. We think it’ll be really interesting to see how she fits within her role in the Order, especially since she’ll be connected to old family. So excited to have you as part of the roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Midge ( she / her )

AGE: 28

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: It’s pretty solid - I am generally around to plot on mobile throughout the day and while my job can be very demanding at certain times of the year, I still am able to post a few times a week. 

ANYTHING ELSE: ( Triggers ) Rape, incest. [edited for clarity]

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Andromeda Cassiopeia Tonks ( nee Black )

AGE: Twenty-nine

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: CIS Female ( she / her ). Heterosexual. While Bi-Curious, Andromeda has never explored her sexuality fully. 

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

ANY CHANGES: I would love to use Gemma Arterton, if possible!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY: Scorpio ( Sun ). Scorpio ( Moon ). Taurus ( Rising ). 

A sun in Scorpio and ascendant in Taurus, Andromeda does often find difficulty understanding how she is perceived by others. In a position where rubbing people the wrong way was never much of a worry of hers, she often presents herself as materialistic and overly self-involved. While materialism is something she is mindful of ( finding comfort through her means being something she does strive towards ), this is not her driving force. 

Her Sun being in Scorpio means she has a fundamental urge to get to the bottom of things, which can at times lead her to be manipulative or power-hungry, but it is from a place of intense passion for authenticity, real intimacy, and the truth. Andromeda is driven to set herself apart from others, often through her close relationships and long-term partnerships. Her desire for marriage was not only born out of a moment of heated vitriol to her family, but also in the pursuit of sustaining the connection she felt with Ted in the most lasting manner she could think. 

Her Moon represents her emotional self: intense, passionate, and a bit dramatic. With an eye for a bit of a show, she still is inclined to keep her more intense and darker emotions private and has a hard time truly letting people in. Trust is hard-fought with her, and while she is very perceptive this sometimes manifests in suspicion and even controlling tendencies. The through-line of Andromeda’s personality is that she craves intimacy, and while it takes effort to get to the core of her it is upon being truly known she finds herself most fulfilled. 

Dromeda is extremely practical, she is reliable and deliberate, giving off the impression of someone who is sensible ( though sometimes, extremely, stubborn ). Through her insightful intuition, Andromeda excels not only in her career but her obsessive tendencies make for someone who can build out a life for herself. She avoids “ beating around the bush ” where she can, and as a result can come off as harsh or intrusive. Being as intuitive to others as she is, she also heavily relies on communicating through body language or if the relationship allows, physical affection. 

Ultimately, Andromeda can be very internal even when present with her own deeply intuitive and feeling self. Run through with a stubborn nature and desire to use her mental capacities to achieve her own personally set goals, she is ultimately a loving and devoted person to those she allows past the moments of discernment. As a result she’s always very aware of any who come into those people’s lives, utilizing her scrupulous nature to ensure that what she holds dear remains safely guarded. 

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: ( TW: Mention of child death ) 

It is their cousin who tells them his sister died.

Not much older than Cissa, Iris died before she could even get a place on the family tree. Aunt Lavinia sits by a window and while her eyes are transfixed on the glass, Andromeda somehow knows she is not looking at anything that is outside. The house is quiet, save for Evan occasionally tugging at the cat’s tail just to hear it hiss. Normally Dromeda would tell him to stop, normally she would start pulling his hair so he could understand how it felt. But normally he did not have a dead sister so she sits with her hands politely folded in her lap.

In any case, she has a question to ask.

" Why? "                                       

" How? "

The second question comes rushing from Bella.

They do not receive any answer right away, a pinch from Mother and a look from Father bars any more words from leaving their lips the rest of the visit. They get their answer at home before bed, Mother and Father sits them down in front of a window. Aunt Lavinia’s eyes must still be looking at but not out the window in her own home, Dromeda thinks while her too-wide and observant eyes strain to study Mother’s face.

As usual, it comes back to those creatures called Muggles. The same who burn witches and wizards alive, the same who beat Andromeda’s relatives and stoned them to death. Those evil beings who destroy everything and made Wizard-kind ashamed of their powers. Mother tells Bellatrix and herself of a new heinous act.  They sneak into nurseries of the most innocent babies with their special, magical blood and pierce their soft, sweet skin with their teeth. They drink and drink until the baby stops breathing. They take all that is special from the child to pass on to their own offspring, to make those mudbloods look and speak as they do. They do it to infiltrate, to feed on more, to destroy every bit of goodness in the world.

( Aunt Lavinia’s baby is dead because of muggles - she was killed by a greedy, horrid monster. )

Mother tells her to stop clutching at her as she walks her back to her bedroom. She does her best, straightens her back and balls a small fist at her side - she stops holding Mother’s hand and instead tries to hold her own. It does nothing to stop her heart from racing. Once in bed, she counts the footsteps of Mother’s graceful stride until she knows she is alone. Until she knows she can move from her bed without being punished. Andromeda's less-than-graceful feet fumble from sheets and scramble to the ground. Frantic steps carry her toward the nursery. The door is cracked, and that is concerning.

It takes all of her courage to push through.

She expects to find a horned creature with long fangs hovering over her sister’s crib - instead she finds Bella laying on the floor beside it. With only a look exchanged in recognition, Andie joins her and is comforted in the thought Bella does not mind when she holds her hand. No matter how hard she squeezes.

Without any words the two sisters resolve themselves to be the protectors of the youngest from those who would wish to prey on her.

This memory begins to dull at age eleven. She watches a boy from across the Great Hall with mild curiosity, and his whole body moves as he laughs. 

“Filthy mudblood,” is sneered from somewhere down the table. Instinctively, Andromeda reaches for Bellatrix’s hand.  

( How odd, she thinks as she spots him later, he doesn’t seem to have fangs at all. ) 

She’s thirteen by the time they are formally introduced, her upbringing does not allow for her to be anything less than polite. At least, this is what she tells herself as she engages in conversation. He tells him his name is Ted and Andromeda spends the night thinking of how it felt when they clasped hands.

They talk, confined by isolated areas and the moonlight. Out of shame at first, perhaps. But there are some things Andromeda comes to find she only wants the moon sharing with her, with him.

Later ( in secret, away from her sisters’ prying eyes ), she’ll trace the veins in his wrist and she thinks she can feel the blood beneath begin to warm. How could it be thick, how could it be muddy - she thinks. His blood, and a burgeoning feeling becoming increasingly harder to ignore is as pure as anything she’s ever touched. Soft and warm when she’s nestled beside his beating heart, soft and warm even when she’s not.

( He’s not dirty, she thinks. Her family might be the one that is wrong. )

She’s lost to them long before they realize, long before she herself has accepted the truth. Ted holds one half of her, she believes, reserving some part that has listened to the lessons taught by her parents. Bellatrix’s infatuation of her own dalliance grows, a man who is allowed to eat at their table and handled their most prized heirlooms. He is the one who is unworthy, he is the one who poses the greater threat to everything important. ( There are bigger problems, she reasons, than a simple affair. )

Pregnancy brings on horrid morning sickness, and a slap that rings in her ear to this day, if she listens closely enough. “ Dead to us, ” they say. But offer a gift in the wake. As she spills out into the night air she finds herself gasping, as though she had resurfaced, as though she has just been saved from a watery grave. 

( She stops by Cissa’s room, hoping to salvage at least one piece ). 

Years of playing protector, vanquisher of the monsters under the bed, come full circle on her own. Nymphadora is born without the usual pomp and circumstance she has known in such occasions, but love pours from her quickly enraptured by strong lungs unabashedly wailing into the night air. Born able to achieve whatever she would like. That’s what she tells her, whispered promises like the exchange of vows shared with Ted before. 

( She tries to ignore the Daily Prophet’s proclamations of anything else ).

A life is built, with difficulty and with trial and error ( how was she to know washing machines were to work like that? ) She is happy, she thinks, after years of being told such pursuits are foolish or secondary. She can protect them, she can keep them just isolated enough to not call any attention their way. There’s an effort to bring them closer to the fold but Andromeda balks at such a concept. ( Albus Dumbledore can not be trusted, she implores. Men with such power rarely care for their pawns at play ). 

And still the part of her remains. The way certain light catches and she can feel those around her stiffen ( She looks so much like her, doesn’t she? ) The part of her which sharpened fangs in duels with Bellatrix left idly twiddling her fingers. It’s relentless, the tide. All the reasons why her job suits her. All the best, she thinks, to keep some things separate. 

( She was told, once, about the myth behind her name. The Chained Woman. Andromeda was never asked her opinion, or so it’s said. Perhaps she only knew better to keep it to herself. )

OCCUPATION: 

Unspeakable in the Ministry of Magic. A niche for ancient artifacts and interest in history allows for her attention to be drawn to the mysteries that keep magic interesting. Andromeda enjoys her job, finding it satisfying an itch she oftentimes could feel ashamed of ( if she spent much time thinking about what compels her, that is ). It is with the understanding of the level of access such a position has given her that she found herself acting as informant to the Order in the first place, and not necessarily because she felt any good will towards the movement of radicals. Andromeda isn’t compelled to trust the Ministry, exactly, nor is she inclined to leave her trust with men recruiting children to war. Her loyalty has always been a closed circle, stuck to a desire to move forward and a need to provide for her family. 

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER: 

Andromeda is more inclined to believe that the Ministry and actual authority would have the means to bring about the end of the war, but with the shift of tide she understands that such measures are a necessary evil. For however far removed she has been from the Black Family Tapestry for the time she’s been married, Andromeda still remembers what it was like to host Voldemort for dinner parties as Bellatrix’s obsession for him grew. She is of a unique group who understood what was happening long before the Daily Prophet began their war correspondence. 

That being said, Andromeda also knows of the ambition of man in general. Whispers of a vigilante group were met with indifference at first, she was ( perhaps misguidedly ) indignant at the idea of a select few taking matters into their own hands, let alone the rumors that some were being recruited right out of school? Her opinion on the group as a whole has only slightly softened since a few loved ones got involved, most notably Sirius and now Ted. Accepting the reality of the threat they are faced with comes with the ( somewhat begrudging ) acceptance compromises must be made. 

SURVIVAL: 

To put it bluntly, survival is everything to Andromeda. Above all else she is a true Slytherin and will do whatever it takes to survive, the caveat being that this extends to her family. Andromeda, though certainly affected by her upbringing in prejudice and violent bigotry, has not been indoctrinated in the same way. However, a certain edge to her allows for more than a few people to draw the direct line of understanding she is cut of the same cloth as Bellatrix Lestrange. While Bella found herself perverted past recognition to her devotion to the cause and her “master”, Andromeda made conscientious decisions to be as self-possessed as possible. This includes a willingness to play coy with the war effort that stands to protect her way of life. 

Because, and this is very important, Andromeda thinks herself above it. She does not always draw a direct correlation to the suffering of others to what could become of her, because in Andromeda’s mind she will simply not allow it to happen. She knows she will be ruthless when it comes down to it, and tries to maintain a certain amount of plausible deniability when it comes to moments in which she is directly associated with the war. 

RELATIONSHIPS: 

Ted is, above everything else, the love of her life. She would have moved them to another country if she had her way but they settled on a cottage by the coast. They have fundamental disagreements and while there are times when he is met with exasperation on her end Andromeda has always liked the challenge he presented to her. A certain recklessness to give himself over to a cause rather than be content with the life they have stolen away offers a host of issues she would rather avoid; and it is in part due to this reasoning she doesn’t always share her own passing along of details. Ultimately, however, everything Dromeda does is for Ted, for their family. 

Andromeda carries with her an adolescence of her family’s social engineering, which means she has connections in various places ( some she isn’t the quickest to acknowledge ). I think she finds herself drawn to the other members of her family who have been disowned, or even the women around her year who she recognized herself in. Which is to say nothing of the particular status she has achieved as an Unspeakable. Indifferent to status ( possibly as a result of it always being given to her ), Drom certainly knows how to use it. 

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: I am a huge sucker for Tedromeda, to be perfectly honest. But at the end of the day I will write with wherever there is chemistry and am always looking for fun avenues to explore! 

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?: 

There is a lifetime of prejudice which Andromeda needs to consistently unpack and confront ( and, as is the way of someone who grew up as incredibly privileged as she did, she is not always willing to do the work ). In many ways, hers is the story of triumph of love over the built-in bigotry that poisoned her home. In practice, it is much trickier. For as much as Andromeda knows what her family is now, there are still fond memories she holds dear. For all the horrors she knows that have been perpetrated in the name of purity, she often finds herself subject to the conditioning she was raised on.

Andromeda was taught, young and often, through the various state-sanctioned ( and family approved ) propaganda pieces to fear and resent anything that would be seen to be an outside, infiltrating force. She does attempt to give her daughter a more objective education of the world around them, though this is made increasingly difficult with the way the war seems to be going. Fear does things to people, she knows more than most, but there is a lack of malice in her heart. 

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?: 

Honestly, I’ve been keeping my eye on this roleplay for some time and the stars just aligned in terms of my schedule opening up and a role that I wanted to play around with! Andromeda is fascinating to me because of all her contradictions, as well as a major resistance to actively take part in a war which she could potentially play a role in. I think the natural tension between her and former family members could also lead to a very interesting dynamic as we move forward! 

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

I am open to going with the flow and love organically plotting, but I think Andromeda’s position at the Ministry / her being an informant to the Order could really challenge her laissez faire attitude when it comes to the war in general. Along with the building tension she has in her own home, and her desire to keep her family safe above anything else, it would be interesting to explore the boiling point of where that all comes to a head. Passivity has no place when she has a husband actively partaking in the war effort, and when the outcome could potentially call into question his safety she might have to fully establish herself as a combatant against what she was raised in. 

ANYTHING ELSE? I don’t think so!