#i started three more drafts today and will probably have one to post tomorrow

[adozentothedawn]

What if. More Dishonored fanfiction.

[screams-in-writing]

Going for a chapter this weekend. Got the draft written out so I’ll probably type it up today and then edit it tomorrow, and post Sunday evening/monday morning, edits pending.

A little preview I typed up:

-

You watched as Mr. Puzzles moved from face-planting the TV head on the bedsheets to sprawling himself dramatically across the small bed on his back that didn’t fit his lanky frame. His legs hanging off the bed as his arms went limp off either side, hands brushing along the floor. A pathetic display, really, but the mood shifted as Mr. Puzzles raised a hand and laid it delicately over top of the TV; the expression on the screen shifted to a sly grin, with digital eyes on it looking in your direction.

“Coming into someone’s room unannounced.” Mr. Puzzles other hand pressed to his chest as he lifted a leg just so to rest his foot on the bed. He pressed the back of his hand to the TV harder. “Have you come here to finish what you’re roommates started? Or come to comfort me for the traumatizing experience?”

“This place is abandoned.” You deadpan, watching this strange man as he adjusted his position. “And what exactly are you talking about?”

“They didn’t tell you.” Mr. Puzzles dropped the theatrics as he turned his TV head (rather gingerly, you note) to refused you with a curious then conspiratorial look. “The work or die choice was rather unexpected, I must say; a trash compactor was certainly not on the radar and I would love nothing more than to never see such a thing again.”

“Your, uh, shirt collar’s getting stained.” You pointed out, not sure what to say about what was said until you had a chance to talk with Rose and Derek. It was a surprise to see alarm flash across the screen before Mr. Puzzles hastily pressed a hand over his neck and tapped the fingers of his other hand on a knee as he gingerly sat up on the bed.

“Nothing to be worried about. I will take care of it and be be ready to go use to that cafe as per my agreement with your devious roommates.” Mr. Puzzles made a shooing motion with you with the same free hand, three fingers flexing with his thumb held in place while making said motion.

You stare at him.

Mr. Puzzles stared back.

“Your antenna are lying flat..”

“Out, out with you right this instsnt.” Said TV antenna flick and position themself back to how they’d been yesterday (the bent one did not straight out. Mr puzzles stood up from the bed.

Wow, you’d forgotten how tall he was. The panic of seeing a strange men with a tv head in your closet had been enough of a distraction.

“Imust put myself together for the company I am not prepared to be around with the state I’m in, and this will take a little more time.” Mr. Puzzles screen flashed to something almost…self conscious? “Do not come in this room again; I will leave when I am finished.”

You are gently yet swiftly shooed out the door by Mr. Puzzles when you didn’t move quick enough out of his tempeitary ‘bedroom’. It’s a weird sensation, to breifly have someone’s hands bigger than your own to nearly cover up both your shoulder blades. Then, the touch was gone, and there you were, lingering in the hallway, wondering what Mr. Puzzles meant by his words. As far as you could tell, the man was dressed exactly as he had been yesterday. And why had he said ‘put myself together’ with such an odd inflection in his voice?

[diy-fire-water-pups]

(( I feel the need to come here now and ask some people to be more considerate. ))

(( I created this blog for fun on my SPARE time, which is little to none because I need to worry about getting money constantly so I can eat. Not to make it everyone's problem but I literally haven't eaten anything today yet and it's currently 6:30 PM as I'm publishing this post right now. There is food at home but it's just one option, which I'm so tired of eating it constantly for being one of the cheapest things to buy, it doesn't satisfy me anymore and we're just halfway through the month. I don't have any source of secure income and I got four other mouths to feed ASIDE OF MY OWN. I am constantly overworked with my underpaid part time job as English teacher because neither my father or younger brother can help me checking these homeworks or exams, they don't know English language like I do, and I still need to balance that with drawing for commissions, which are the only way I got to get money during the month. My father is too old to get hired for anything. My brother is still finishing college, if only that shit would end their strike to continue classes so he can graduate still this year and look for a proper job, which will also probably take some time, it's not easy to get a job here.

And it takes a lot of time for me to draw and answer the asks in this blog, usually over 1 hour and half, up to two hours or even longer when there's all three pups + something else they're doing or for the background - that is, if I work on it non-stop, because I usually draw a sketch, it sits there for a few days, until I stop again to clean it up and draw the lineart, then wait a few more days until I go and color it to finish and publish the answered ask. I have some drafts with a doodled answer waiting for a week or even two, still waiting for me to finish the art and post them. I'm having fun with these on my own time.

WITH ALL THAT SAID, I cannot afford Magic!Anons that demand for specific amounts of asks to be worked on, no matter how many. You gotta understand it: If I would start the M!A effect tomorrow, the first ask with that effect would show up like, one whole week AFTER or so. It just does NOT work here. Besides, I have some stories going on in the blog, like this entire thing about Marshall's incoming deafness, which took me what, let me see... Two weeks and half since I replied the first Anon who started it and it's still not done completely yet. I still got another interesting story to start and entertain you all with it, this other one has been waiting sitting in this blog's drafts for literally ONE MONTH now. I'm not gonna interrupt them with side effects.

If you want to dare my pups to do something funny or silly, that's cool! But it'll go for only your dare ask and that's it. I'm not gonna disturb other asks or RPs. Magic!Anons are to be fun and short and sadly I do not have the time to have anything going on for too long like that, not when it's something that changes appearances, or whatever like that.

I am not mad, or angry. I'm just asking for consideration. I am an exhausted and probably currently underweight old artist who just wants to have fun and have some food to go by every day. I'm not a tireless art machine. I'm doing this for fun, every day I wake up I'm glad to have started this askblog and see how much you guys enjoy it and enjoy my portrayal of these pups we love so much, it always makes me smile and feel like I can do some more and keep going, despite all things being against me. But sometimes I need to be firm and say no as well. I have my limits.

Thank you if you read this far. And please, don't ask who was it or what happened, I don't want anyone going after who tried to push this specific M!A here. They're a very nice person who just happened to insist on something I said no before, and I do not condone people attacking others on someone else's behalf, as much as your intention is to defend someone, that's just shitty attitude!

Let's go back to this blog's usual business, shall we? Though now I gotta get back to checking those exams answers, Idk if I'll get time to draw any other reply for tonight, maybe past midnight. I still need to stop and get up to go eat, ugh. ))

[sheliesshattered]

I finished Jack's Very Fancy Santa Hat yesterday -- or well, finished enough to call it done for now. I might want to re-do the fur (or parts of it) at some point, but hey, is that or is that not a Very Fancy Santa Hat:

I'm like, 95% happy with it, and that last 5% is really down to learning new techniques on the fly, and my goal of making this 'heirloom quality'. It is, I'll grant, both very fancy and obviously a Santa Hat, and Jack seems really happy with it (he's wearing it while I type this up). But if I get a chance in the future I might try to improve it, we'll see.

I've also decided not to finish my Santa hat right now, since there's only a few weeks left until midwinter and Christmas, and given the choice between the two, I would rather have my velvet Yule dress done and wearable and save my Santa hat to finish for next year. So I've put away all the hat-making things and shifted gears into getting the velvet gown cut out. Here's one of the side-back panels ready to be cut out:

I'm really hoping to have this dress done and wearable three weeks from today, for an event Jack and I are going to. Three weeks is pretty quick for any sewing project for me, much less for a silk velvet gown. But, on the bright side, I know this (self-drafted) pattern really well, I know which parts are fiddly and which parts are easy, and I don't expect there to be any fit issues. And sewing the seams for the Santa hats gave me some practice working with this velvet, so I already have a good handle on what I need to do to make sure the dress's seams don't creep around on me.

This velvet is gorgeous and not nearly as difficult as the other silks I've sewn in the last few years. Like any velvet, I'm cutting it face-down, and on the backside there's a really obvious weft and fairly obvious warp, so it's pretty easy to get the grain squared up before cutting. It's only moderately wiggly, generally stays put unless nudged, though I do try to get the pattern weights on just as soon as I'm certain of the placement. Both of the silks for my Rhaenyra cosplay were much more annoying to work with, and so while this isn't the easiest fabric I've worked with recently, it's not so bad.

But cutting out full-length gown pieces is exhausting, a slow process of getting the velvet laid out and squared up, figuring out which piece best fits there -- cutting them all in the same direction just in case the nap decides to make an appearance eventually -- laying out the pattern and weighting it so it doesn't move, cutting it out with my rotary cutter and then going back through with scissors for any notches. The part of my back that I injured late last summer generally doesn't hurt anymore, except when I lean over my cutting table for long periods like this. So I keep having to take breaks to go sit with my back on my heating pad and let the muscles calm down a bit.

We're doing a Lord of the Rings marathon today (and the one benefit of sewing in a ~825sqft place is that I'm never far from the TV lol). We're a little past the midway point in Two Towers and I've gotten four panels cut out and a fifth ready to cut, before sitting down to take a break and write this post. The dress has nine panels and then the two single-piece sleeves, eleven pieces total, so I'm not quite half way through the cutting process. If I can get this whole thing cut out by the end of Return Of The King I'll be happy, and barring that I should be able to get the last of it cut out early tomorrow.

This velvet doesn't fray nearly as badly as the brocade for the Rhaenyra dress, but I might want to stay-stitch the edges of each piece just to stop the fraying from happening. If I decide to do that, it'll be before I start pinning pieces together. Either way, I probably won't run the sewing machine until Monday, when Jack is back at work, rather than tomorrow while we've got cozy movies on.

Three weeks really isn't a lot of time, but my holiday shopping is nearly done, I don't have any other major craft projects or work demands, and I'm not planning on any significant baking or cooking between now and midwinter. So maybe if I can keep myself moving, especially on workdays, I'll be able to get this done with all its finishings in plenty of time to wear on the 21st.

[kindred-spirit-93]

hey there chat, its me, ya girl.

long post ahead! aight on todays menu:

embroidery (more on that below)

short story (more on that in another post)

spring cleaning my blog lol (inbox and drafts)

other things ive probably forgotten

for starters, i live! i have like 36 more hours of sweet glorious freedom before resuming uni lol and so ive got a few projects lined up, and id appreciate yalls insight on one or two or ten of them ^-^

--

first one and the most time sensitive is my beloveds birthday gift lol

i started the stems this beige colour and regretted it half way through but continued anyway (im just like me fr fr), and im now considering taking them all out and going over it in black.

sorry for the awful quality lol. ill finish it tomorrow bc my everything hurts so ill see what the council decides then. will update :)

--

secondly, im story boarding a short story! yay :) i love tragic backstories lmao (done right ofc and not thrown in just because) and i have three potential ways to go about the heroines origin story. (ill make aother post with another poll right after this one with more details n stuff for whoevers interested :D)

--

third, i think ill get to answering a few asks at long last tomorrow night, so if youd like to send anything feel free lol. might schedule whats in my drafts already but idk. its getting a bit crowded so well see what happens.

--

also since were here there are a few other things in the works (an epic au muehehe and more polites & duck content lol) but they might have to wait a little longer :') again remains to be seen.

thank you for reading this far lol, take care, drink water, sleep well & dont skip breakfast (or ill personally hunt u down) and ill see yall soon!

- kindred

[recurring-polynya]

Writing Update/Art Update 5/9/2023

Many things happened last week. Not very many of them were drawing. I'll get back to that.

I have finally started posting the big (it's not really big. Medium-big. It just felt big) fanfic that I have working on for most of the year. You can start here if you want to read it, Chapters 1-3 are currently available.

I finished the smut. I had mostly finished it by Friday, but then we had a belated-because-we-were-waiting-for-spring-weather backyard birthday party for my daughter this past weekend, so I had to spend a solid 48 hours in the paralyzing deathgrip of anxiety at the prospect of socializing with people I don't know (the parents of some of my daughter's classmates), so I didn't get much of anything else done, although I did clean my house and buy a bunch of hot dogs.

I only got one doodle done this week, which took me three days, spread out over the anxiety deathgrip, but I'm pretty pleased with how it came out. I really would like to start on a more serious project this week, but I may get back to them, we'll see how it goes. I do want to thank everyone who sent in prompts, and I'm sorry I haven't gotten to more of them. Turns out I'm real bad at doing quick, fast-turnaround doodles! Is anyone surprised??

After that, like, I said, I finished up the porno. I was hoping to post it yesterday, but it was pretty late at night by the time I finished my editing sweep. Today was a go places posting day and I didn't really want to post two different fanfics in one day, plus I had made kind of a lot of edits, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to let it sit a day and then do another sweep before posting. In other words, tomorrow, probably.

This morning, I re-read what I've gotten written so far of Ductwork, which is the working title of the next story in the Heart is a Muscle. It's 7707 words at the moment, and I get hot mad every time I read it because I want there to be more of it, and unfortunately, there is only one way to make that happen. But it's gonna!! I keep telling myself that it was really worthwhile to have taken the time to write go places first, because Ductwork is largely about Rukia and Renji finally digging down into a lot of festering insecurities from that time in their afterlives. I have a couple different approaches to writing these days, and I'm gonna try to do the thing that ended up working for go places, which is 1) try to write something every day, 2) chronological schmonological, write whatever I can possibily come up with, I'll just cram it all together at the end, this was very fun and easy last time and definitely did not take six drafts and a color-coded spreadsheet. Based on past experience, I do not think I am going to be able to power through to completion, so my goal is to add at least 20k words to the thing before I flame out in a blaze of beautiful depression and spend the rest of the summer on something insane, like bringing back the Soul Society Tattoo Artist AU. My overall prediction is that it will be around 60k, but I'm not discounting the possibility that it could be another 100k-er. (it better not go over 120k tho, I will die for real)

Anyway, that was my week! Whew!

[whentherewerebicycles]

mmkay pretty good day and read for a few hours before bed instead of mindlessly scrolling. well with some mindless scrolling thrown in there but ah well. the week below the cut

tomorrow—wfh day with one meeting 12-1, a vet visit at 2:30, and a haircut at 7:30pm of all times (it was the only one I could make work in the next few weeks). I think in that 8-12 slot I want to focus mostly on the program research stuff and not on upcoming projects… I keep pushing it off bc no urgent deadline but also it’s important.

tues—my new person starts. handful of meetings and lots of onboarding stuff and I have to be on campus 8:30-4 bleh. might have to scramble to get some drafts done by wed.

wed—lord what a day. meetings 10-5 and then have to drive v fast over to meet M&A for a movie.

thurs—must drive into seattle in the morning for a meeting kill meeeee but I’m planning to take my afternoon meetings all from home.

fri—three back-to-back meetings but it’ll be wfh and I’ll probably peace out early since I worked many hours this weekend

it’ll be kind of a cramped week mostly bc I have so much onboarding stuff that I don’t have a lot of time to work on projects. but it seems doable and I hope I get along well with my new person.

also my period is supposed to start tomorrow and I’m cautiously hopeful it’s close because I’ve been breaking out like crazy the last couple days, but also am trying to brace myself for having to wait many more weeks. no fucking clue what’s going on with my cycle post-pregnancy loss I am utterly at the mercy of my hormone levels. I would have finished my first trimester today. but what’s done is done and I just hope I can start trying again sooner rather than later.

[parksprout]

Sprout Journal 11/3/24

Hey Tumblr! There's some stuff I wanna talk about today, so I'm going to do a lil journal entry. I was doing journaling at home with pen and paper, but frankly my handwriting is so bad and I use my hands like that so infrequently that I was cramping before I got even close to writing all of my thoughts out each day. So I decided I'm going to put my thoughts that I can share out like this, it can be somewhat of a log of my own self growth! And also keep me a lil sane if I'm struggling again.

Today has been a really good day, actually! So I was on a really successful diet for about 6 months during which I got a 3rd of the way to my overall weight goal and built a bunch of muscle. Then, when I started college full time, I basically stopped altogether. I didn't gain any weight back, but I have been plateaued (least favorite word to spell omg) for a looonggggg time. This week, I've been finally eating how I want to again. My go to breakfast has been

Overnight oats: 1/2 cup of unrefined dried oats 1/2 cup of 2% milk 1 whole banana cut into thin slices 1 tablespoon of honey

Honestly I had it on like the 29th without any banana or honey and that SHIT WAS ASSSSSSS. It was so bland, but I hate wasting food so I downed that slop anyway and felt siicccckkkk ough. Honestly it's been really hard to eat lately due to my current tweak out sesh (breakup stuff) and forcing myself to down that was terrible ToT. This new version with banana and honey is AMAZING THOUGH LIKE ITS GENUINELY TASTY?

After I ate that I went to work and... honestly? As much as I hate my co-workers? It was really good to see them today. They may be bad people, but they are all really attached to me. I have been giving them all life advice for so long because I thought I had it all figured out, and it's very funny being on the opposite end of things now. I specifically asked them if they think I was being silly for reaching out and breaking no contact with my partner (they are my ex but... ugh it doesn't feel right to say that, it makes my stomach hurt). I explained to them why, how, and when I did it and... they actually supported me, they are the only ones in my life who think that reaching out was anything but a mistake. I probably asked 12 people about it and only those three felt like... maybe I'm not wrong for trying to continue the conversation more than we did. Either way, they responded yesterday and we've been talking a lot today. Us talking naturally doesn't mean we're automatically back together, but it might be a new beginning of sorts regardless of what the end looks like. I'm feeling hopeful that we might be able to talk things out and heal, but I can't say anything for certain for now and probably won't be able to for a long time.

I can say that... I found out today that they were thinking about me too. When they started replying to my texts today I snuck out of work to sit in the back of my car and just... take in what they were saying, and respond. They took a picture at work that had my name on it... that made me cry real, fat tears for the first time since this happened. It's strange how I had been sobbing but my cheeks stayed dry, but the moment I talked to them and saw a glimmer of us in their life I started bawling in the back of my own car.

Today is also the first day I've rested instead of heading to the gym after work since this all started. Oh my god my body is so sore. Right now I'm planning out the rest of my night and physical activity is NOT on the agenda.

- After I post this I'll give myself a bit more time to rest and relax - Then it's time to work on homework! First I have to practice for an oral exam I have tomorrow in Spanish class. Then after that, I have both a presentation and another project in Archaeology due on Friday ToT I also have this re-write of a short story for creative writing that I need to work on a second draft of - Then I want to work on OC stuff? I have some ideas for a sleep token OC that I wanna work on, and also I think I can refine my OC's for DnD, my personal writing projects and more somewhat? I think it'd been neat to try and draw them myself sometime soon - besides that I don't think I have plans. Maybe some video games or reading if I have extra time!

Thank you for listening tonight tumblr, you're the realest <3 if anyone sees this, I'm still looking for more mutuals! I wanna learn more about people who share my interests, don't be a stranger :3

[klcthebookworm]

Strix: Forget the Sun 2024 Metrics 08 - 14

Strix: Forget the Sun September Metrics 08

METRICS Previous Word Count: 82,789 New Words: 396 Total words for the first draft: 83,185 2024 Metrics Words Total: 5191 2024 Cumulative Word Count: 7581 What I Accomplished in the Narrative Today: Got the majority of the fight scene done. Now it is time to wrap it up. Fave line: “You had to have seen that coming, you fucking Viking. You saw me made into this!” What Else I Accomplished Today: Today I have had decent focus. I have changed the bed, finished laundry, filled my pill box, ordered my refills, filled water bottles, emailed another finished story to my beta, and posted all the finished metrics posts to DUF and my Tumblr. What I'm looking forward to: Getting Peg to interact with this set of characters. What I'm not looking forward to: We’ve got a potential tropical storm/hurricane building in the Gulf! Oh fuck no, not looking forward to that.

Strix: Forget the Sun September Metrics 09

METRICS Previous Word Count: 83,185 New Words: 319 Total words for the first draft: 83,504 2024 Metrics Words Total: 5397 2024 Cumulative Word Count: 7900 What I Accomplished in the Narrative Today: Still working on the same scene, but I did get the fight finished. And this was probably the best day I had writing at the paying job since this month started. Fave line: “You are not in charge,” Raven told him flatly. “And was Ywla drunk? ‘Cause you’re sounding like you have had a few.” What Else I Accomplished Today: I made it to work without getting any chores done before leaving and traffic was not nice to me. At least no wrecking my current car. But I have to wash some dishes and whatever else is down to do on Mondays. What I'm looking forward to: Going to bed at bed time. What I'm not looking forward to: Tropical Storm Francine and how much it will disrupt the week.

Strix: Forget the Sun September Metrics 10

METRICS Previous Word Count: 83,504 New Words: 148 Total words for the first draft: 83,652 2024 Metrics Words Total: 5461 2024 Cumulative Word Count: 8048 What I Accomplished in the Narrative Today: Not as many words as I was hoping for because everything else that was happening. Fave line: Raven shrugged. “Traumatized.” What Else I Accomplished Today: All state offices got closed tomorrow when we are expecting Francine to come ashore. Our office let everybody go home at 2:30 and work from home from the rest of the day. I couldn’t log into the work laptop. What I'm looking forward to: Fingers crossed that I’m not hit too horribly bad. What I'm not looking forward to: So Tropical Storm Francine is supposed to be a hurricane by the time it smacks us.

Strix: Forget the Sun September Metrics 11

METRICS Previous Word Count: 83,652 New Words: 258 Total words for the first draft: 83,910 2024 Metrics Words Total: 5577 2024 Cumulative Word Count: 8306 What I Accomplished in the Narrative Today: Power didn’t go off until 6:30 p.m. for me so I got more typing time in than I thought I would. I finished the last scene I was working on and started the next one in these characters’ timeline. Fave line: Nobody ran though. She clearly needed to work on a terrifying presence. What Else I Accomplished Today: Hunkered down until Hurricane Francine passed through. The worse was done by midnight. What I'm looking forward to: The return of electricity. What I'm not looking forward to: The aftermath of Francine that can’t be seen until sunrise.

Strix: Forget the Sun September Metrics 12

METRICS No electricity this day.

Strix: Forget the Sun September Metrics 13

METRICS Previous Word Count: 83,910 New Words: 300 Total words for the first draft: 84,210 2024 Metrics Words Total: 5847 2024 Cumulative Word Count: 8606 What I Accomplished in the Narrative Today: The power turned on at 2 a.m. today, so I can type the three pages of rough draft I wrote yesterday. Now, I got started after running errands at work so my time to work was less. I got one page of those three typed today. Fave line: “Had a busy night last night?” the brunette woman asked sarcastically. What Else I Accomplished Today: The power turned on at 2 a.m. today (so nice I say it twice). Sleep still wasn’t great and I left the house later than I wanted. I ate lunch out instead of breakfast. But I returned pants to Sam’s Club and picked up my new glasses and trial contacts. Cleaned out the fridge, and forgot about the money stuff I had to do for ordering my contacts. What I'm looking forward to: Catching up on my sleep and chores and still managing to write words. What I'm not looking forward to: Grocery shopping.

Strix: Forget the Sun September Metrics 14

METRICS Previous Word Count: 84,210 New Words: 785 Total words for the first draft: 84,995 2024 Metrics Words Total: 6031 2024 Cumulative Word Count: 9391 What I Accomplished in the Narrative Today: Typed up all the rough draft written while I didn’t have power. So after today my word count totals will go down because I just can’t make words speedily on this novel. Also I am so confused over who knows what when. The time line according to the POV characters will be instrumental to editing this mess into a coherent novel. Fave line: This jumpsuit was the worst disguise in the history of disguises. What Else I Accomplished Today: I picked up the chunkiest sticks in the yard so Uncle Scott won’t hit my house with them as he cuts the grass. Also worked on laundry and trying to find new homes for things in the four office stacks. What I'm looking forward to: Having all the chores done early tomorrow so more writing time. What I'm not looking forward to: Everything I have left to do to finish the chores today.

[puzzledmemories]

((doesn't seem i have the energy to do replies right now... i've been sitting at my computer for ages. i'm really sorry. it's not a lack of interest or anyone's fault or anything. i think i'm just anxious and tired. i'm doing the work of 1.5 people at work, and it's probably draining me more than i think... plus, my friend/former co-worker's job got posted today, which is kinda bittersweet. we can get applicants for new people now, but it really finalizes things and i miss her. i don't deal with the hiring process at all, i'm just a little entry level guy, so it's a waiting game. i work as part of a three (currently two) person team (not including my supervisor and her supervisor) and we all work closely together so this hasn't been easy.))

((i made like 15 new icons for yuri based on his early arc v appearances though... that's productive, right? lol. no icons available for him on the internet is forcing me to improve my icon making skills, which are only mediocre. it's nice to have like 30 options now, at least.))

((i have my owed replies drafted. i might sneak one or two in tomorrow during work.))

((oh, and i did catch a shiny finizen!!! hoping for one more before i start working on the raid event for pokemon this weekend, so i can have a finizen and a palafin. i love that purple little dolphin so much))

((remind me to download xkit on this browser lol))

((oh, and i queued a few rp memes to post here over the next week? they'll be marked as queued, but i'm always accepting for any rp meme i've reblogged.))

[miloucomehome]

some more updates on the end of term saga, finances

So some more developments

Forced myself to wake up early today and go to the campus to try a 2nd attempt at my visual cmn class project and was unbelieveably successful. I’m at the comp lab in my department right now but once the computer lab closes I’ll go over to where I placed them and pick up what’s left assuming they weren’t cleaned up. Tonight maybe I’ll draft up a layout for my late presentation and  repurpose a previous process book layout to save time. EDIT: I went by for a final pass but there were students there but also some cards were gone, so presumably picked up! Yay a victory! I'll definitely have fun putting together this presentation and process book.

Next, I’ve been proceeding along with starting the work for my post-graduation course. It’s a mock job application in my case, sort of. (we could’ve picked a grant) So I’m laying everything out in figma and doing the writeup. As for the 10-item portfolio I’ll be adding, I’m just going to grab what I can. I sort of aimed too high with the job application at the time the project started so none of my work probably qualifies. In fact, it’s probably quite junior, but I’m guessing the adding of a portfolio is to practice having a professional portfolio PDF to submit (never made one. welp D: ) This one I can definitely finish by tomorrow I think. :’)

Then I have to take photos of my book I made for typography and submit those and hopefully I’ll be done in time.

Now, there’s one damper/worry/danger right now and that’s my finances. I had to pay my ccard and forgot my balance and now I don’t have enough for much of anything. I didn’t get a student line of cr/edit extention either and I don’t have much for savings, if at all. I remember the mum of a close family friend gave me some cash ��for emergencies” when I was out west for my dad’s funeral but I know even that won’t be enough. 

Currently wanting to focus on homework and then work up the courage to ask (see: cry from shame?) my aunt. I...I haven’t been in this situation in a decade and I wish I was able to have worked a bit to build up something to lessen the monnies I need. I dunno how people do it for small amounts at all. (I’ve calculated what I need and I’m in the process of looking for work as well as little jobs here and there for May onwards that I could do). I’m also going to begin looking for a roommate for May or just basically ASAP. The days of having the apartment to myself are done XD

It’s an odd balance I’m in-- on one hand? No regrets about dropping culture and img, I’m in some “relief” that I can focus on the other three courses, but then...there’s this looming financial problem. ohhh boy.

wish me luck! T_T)

[qwanderer]

I'm like, surprised how abjectly relieved I am to have posted another chapter of AL today. Like. I am going to finish it for reals! My brains have not been completely consumed by leverage fic. Tonight was kinda my last chance before I rewatch rs2e5 tomorrow and probably start for joy part 2 about it. Like I love love love both of these fics but AL has been stupidly ambitious and ridiculously complicated and I have occasionally fallen into despair about it ever getting done.

Anyway I think there are going to be three more chapters of AL, one to really finish out the major conflict and two to wrap up loose ends, but based on my track record there could easily be more than that. I have plans for more stories in the opposite of void series, but I don't know how the new season of Loki (which is going to joss everything about the series sooo bad) will affect my motivation. Either way I'd like to leave it somewhere un-cliffhangery if possible.

I have reason to believe that I might continue with the series, I've been known to get inspired and incorporate elements of a new season into a jossed continuity. But I also have other projects that need attention!

Hoping to finish AL soon, and then find some time in between For Joy chapters to write some of my further murderbot fic ideas. This could also all potentially get pushed aside at a moment's notice by my novel coming back to me for third draft edits (although I doubt for joy is going to be fully set aside any time soon so those two will probably have to coexist somewhat).

Status: brain delightfully full of fic! But I want to get this one out to make space for other stories.

[andthenshesaid-write]

I guess it's time for another update, because I finished writing Part Two today. In all, it's sitting at almost 37,000 words and I still have Part Three to write. I already know that Part Three will be the shortest part, but I think it might still add another 10,000 words. But who can say?

I'm just really excited at this point. Tomorrow (September 30) will be five weeks since I started writing and I've worked on it every day. I've been having a great time and I'm so proud of this one, but it was getting to the point where I was starting to feel like the end was never going to come. Getting to the end of Part Two has really rejuvenated me and I think I'll probably have the first draft finished by the end of this week. That's the hope anyway.

I'm aiming to post sometime in mid-October, but hopefully earlier. It all depends on the feedback I get from my amazing beta (hi @quicksilvermaid). Obviously, the more work she says it needs, the longer it will take. Overall, though, I'm feeling more confident about this story than I did about the first one, and I think that's a good sign.

I thought I would do a little update on the sequel to Led Me Here to You.

I've been working on it for two and a half weeks, writing every day, and I'm currently sitting at about 16,000 words. I don't plan the full story before I write, so I can't say exactly where I am in terms of how completed it is, but I feel like I'm approaching halfway. I also think that it's probably going to be longer than the first fic, but that's based on the fact that Part One of LMHtY is around 14,000 words, which is just under 50% of the total word count.

I'm really liking what I have of the sequel so far. I think I even like it more than the first fic, which is pretty exciting. TK and Carlos get to interact more in this one and I'm having a lot of fun with their scenes. Jonah also continues to steal every scene he's in.

If all goes well, I'm hoping to have the first draft of the sequel finished in the next two and a half weeks, and then I'll spend up to a week and a half on editing. That would put posting somewhere in early October. But, of course, that all depends on how long the fic ends up being. I'm not in any rush; I just want it to be good and for people to enjoy it when I post it.

[jkstompers]

noise complaints | myg

pairing: min yoongi x female reader

summary: yoongi is tired of his loud, video game addicted roommate, so he decides to move out and get his own apartment for some peace and quiet. but with his luck, gets you as his neighbor: a girl who plays bass in a band and hates the feeling of earbuds in her ears.

word count: 5.8k

genre: neighbor!au, producer yoongi, bassist oc, pwp ( ；∀；) i tried but rlly it’s just... smut

warnings: mature!! (18+!), explicit language, smut, making out, fingering, dom!yoongi, he’s a little mean

author’s note: hi!!!!!! in honor of yoongi’s birthday, i wanted to post this fic that i had sitting in my drafts! i hope u enjoy!! (´⌣`ʃƪ) pls let me know what u think!

banner pic creds here <3

yoongi doesn’t know how to tell his roomate, mark, that his gaming obsession has driven him to take extreme measures that consist of: moving out. he never stops playing video games. all day, all night, his eyes are fixed on the computer or tv screen, always screaming to his team mates about where to go or who’s fucking up. yoongi’s not sure if he can take it anymore.

he’s finally saved up enough to move into an apartment of his own, he’s been planning this for almost 6 months; already visited the apartment complex, discussed prices, background checks, etc. all yoongi really needs to do is finish signing the papers and start moving in.

he decides to just let mark know, no sugarcoat. as yoongi expected, mark practically begs on his knees for him to stay. his parents are paying for his share of the apartment but only if he splits the cost with a roommate, but yoongi’s gone through two years of it already, he’s over it. over the next few days, mark watches yoongi dejectedly as he packs his things.

by the end of the week, yoongi has finished packing and already signed the lease. he tells mark ‘good luck’ and leaves him in the dust, hopefully he’ll find another roommate, but that’s beyond yoongi’s concern now. all he has to worry about now is unpacking his boxes in his brand new apartment.

he looks around at the empty space, with the boxes cornered in one section. he smiles to himself, no noisy roomates, no unwashed dishes, no dirty laundry, ah, finally. peace and qui—

and that’s when he hears the blare of your speakers, it’s not loud enough for the entire complex to hear, but the music obviously bleeds through the shared wall. yoongi groans, knowing that this could be a complete repeat of mark. he’s not sure if he should knock on your door and ask you to lower the music down, it’s only his first day here. don’t you treat your neighbors with respect? why are you so loud?

yoongi decides to ignore it for now. he unpacks his things and starts furnishing the room so he can have a place to sleep for the night. when everything is put together, he feels the weight of the day; how much he’s been lifting and how he’s now renting an apartment hits him all at once. the dull pain resonates in his arms, his head starting to ache, and you’re still playing your fucking music. he can’t take it anymore, especially not with this ache getting worse.

yoongi feels his fist knock angrily against your door three times, he waits for you to open the door. except, he was not expecting a pretty girl to answer, he was expecting maybe an obnoxious frat guy; he’s absolutely flustered. you stand there and look up at him confused, “hi? did you need something?” your voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“i’m— uh, i’m your neighbor, i’m sorry to disrupt, but if you could just lower your music down a bit, i’m really tired, and—” he starts but a gasp of excitement leaves you, cutting him off.

“my neighbor?! that apartment has been empty for so long! i’m so sorry, i was just so used to no one being able to hear! welcome! i’m ___!” you greet him cheerfully, taking his hands into yours and shaking them. yoongi feels his cheeks turn pink, your hands are soft and you’re so pretty.

“my name is yoongi,” he replies, he stands there not really knowing how to respond to the way you’re so excited. he wishes he could reciprocate but his head is pounding, all he wants to do is sleep.

you pick up on his energy, letting go of his hands to wave him off, “i’ll turn the music off for today, get some rest, yoongi, if you need help, some sugar or something, you can always just knock on my door,” you smile.

yoongi nods, “thank you, ___, goodnight.”

“goodnight, yoongi! nice meeting you,” you reply, closing your door. you blush behind the door, a neighbor? a cute one at that? there’s a sudden rush of adrenaline pulsing through your veins, testing you, telling you to blast your music just so he could come back and you could look at him one more time. but you decide it’s better not to, he said he was tired, maybe tomorrow.

yoongi returns to his apartment, thankful that you kept to your word and kept the music off. his body drifts his pounding head to sleep.

two weeks had gone by before yoongi’s eyes, he spent most of it buying furniture since the apartment looked so bare. one upside to a loft apartment was that he didn’t have to buy too much furniture, a bed, a couch, a tv, and maybe a rug was enough for him, for now of course.

in the time that’s passed, he’s learned that you like playing music when you’re studying, cleaning, when you’re doing anything really. whenever he thinks it’s too loud, he knocks through the wall, you get the hint most of the time. he’s also learned that you can play the bass and that you’re in a band. speaking of that, you’re having a meeting with them right now, and yoongi can hear every word of it.

your band mates decided to barge into your apartment today, waking you from your study nap and telling you that you all need to practice. the volume of their voices is jarring, you never realized how loud you and your surroundings were until yoongi moved in. you’re suddenly conscious about your volume at all times, his knocks whenever you were loud always made you feel terrible, but you couldn’t help but blush whenever you thought of him. you were torn, be loud and get his attention or be quiet and get on his good side.

“___! grab your shit and let’s go!” jungkook shouts. he’s the guitarist and lead singer of the band; he gets impatient sometimes.

“oh just let her daydream for a little bit, she’s probably thinking about her hot neighbor,” seulgi teases. she’s the drummer and your best friend. you don’t let her comment pass so easily, but you try to ignore the way your face heats up.

“you think he’s hot?” you quip back. a smirk on your face as you zip your bass into it’s case. yoongi is surprised at the way he can hear your voices so clearly, he wonders if you guys always talk this loud or if the walls are really that thin. “you haven’t even seen him yet,” you lug your bag over your shoulder.

“he sounds hot.” she shrugs, taking a bite of the apple she stole from your fruit basket. jungkook grows more and more antsy the longer you both talk.

“where’s taehyung anyway?” you ask. the realization comes to you when you feel a missing presence, knowing your 4th member would say something about yoongi.

“how nice of you to finally ask, he’s been waiting in the car for you slow pokes, let’s get going.” jungkook rushes, pushing you and seulgi out of the door. you turn to lock the door when you hear the door to your left slide open.

“oh my god, jungkook look, he’s hot.” seulgi smacks jungkook’s shoulder to make him look. your eyes are glued on the figure standing outside of apartment 77.

“hi— hey, yoongi,” you greet him while locking your door. it’s embarrassing the way the three of you are all almost drooling at the sight of him.

“hi, ___,” he sends a small smile to you, looking over to your bandmates hesitantly. yoongi notices jungkook, an assumption is made in his head almost immediately, boyfriend?

you scramble next to them and introduce them, “yoongi, these are my bandmates, seulgi, she plays the drums, and jungkook, he plays guitar and sings, there’s taehyung too, he plays guitar too but he— he’s um, in the car.”

“ah, nice to meet you.” he nods, greeting them as well. “i actually have to get to work, but it was cool meeting you all,” he excuses himself. you all wave to him.

“way to be fucking awkward guys,” you scold them when you’re all walking to the car. taehyung looks up from his phone to see the three of you walking his way, he starts the car once you open the door.

“hey, not our fault he’s good looking,” jungkook shrugs and seulgi holds her hand up for a high five, which he gladly gives her.

“not fair! you guys got to see ___’s hot neighbor while i was stuck in the car? i knew i should have just came in,” taehyung grumbles, pulling out of the apartment complex’s parking lot.

“it just so happened that he was leaving his apartment the same time we were, maybe you’ll meet him too tae,” you rub his arm. a somewhat sarcastic tone in your voice. taehyung rolls his eyes, starting the drive to the studio.

the music in the car was overshadowed by taehyung and seulgi arguing about when you and yoongi would finally hook up. you had to remind them that he hasn’t even been here a month yet, and that you guys barely talk besides the small hellos and awkward run ins when you’re doing laundry. it seems to keep them quiet, taehyung parks in the lot and you all move into the studio, making your way to the practice room the owners thankfully let you use to rehearse.

a couple songs are played and you all vote for a break. taehyung and jungkook having a guitar battle, seulgi leaning back against the wall on her phone, and you, need to pee! you leave the room and use the bathroom as usual, but a familiar bleach blonde head turns the corner and starts to walk down the hallway towards you, the breath you’re holding turns into a gasp when you realize it’s him. “yoongi?! why are you here?”

he looks up from the ground, looking as surprised as you when he realizes you were talking to him, “i work here, why are you here? are you following me?” he grills, you scoff at the question.

“i’m with my band, we’re rehearsing,” you explain. he raises his eyebrows, you’re not sure what it means. “you don’t believe me?” you pose.

“it’s just a little suspicious,” he shrugs, yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing. he hopes his hint makes sense to you, he’s never really been good at flirting. a familiar feeling erupts in his stomach, one that people could call butterflies whenever he saw you. he really just wants to see you play, and to hear you sing, that’s what he wants the most.

“uh, i can bring you to them? i promise i’m here with my band,” you laugh, warmth spreading to your cheeks. there is no way in hell that you’re going to play in front of yoongi. you were confident sure, but your embarrassing crush on him will make your fingers shake when you try to press the strings down. it’ll be a shitshow!

“can i pee first?” his small laugh brings a smile to your face. boys pee fast, you’ve learned that over time, so yoongi doesn’t take long. you’re both walking back down the hallway, “your boyfriend isn’t angry that you’re with me?” the random question makes your steps stutter.

“i’m sorry, what? boyfriend?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare up at him, his face isn’t showing any sign of humor, he’s serious.

“you’re not dating one of your band mates? isn’t that how it usually goes?” his lips purse as you continue to walk to the room that your band is occupying, he’s so serious that it makes you laugh.

“oh my god, yoongi, i’m single as a pringle, they’re my best friends, our number one rule is to never date within the band, that’s how things get messy,” you explain. a weight is taken off of yoongi’s shoulders, it wasn’t his fault he thought of it; you’re beautiful and surrounded by people that probably want you as much as he does.

“oh,” he answers, you both turn the corner and approach the door, “good to know.” the door opens to your three members looking at the two of you with raised eyebrows.

“oh my god, it’s him,” seulgi points to yoongi with her drumstick. you wave your hand to signal her to put it down, ‘it’s rude!’ you mouth.

“are you yoongi?” taehyung asks, taking his guitar and putting it down on it’s stand. yoongi nods, holding his hand out to shake taehyung’s, which he doesn’t take. instead taehyung pulls him into a hug, yoongi doesn’t expect the sudden action of affection, his arms not knowing what to do. “it’s so nice to finally meet you! ___ talks about you a lot,” taehyung’s confession makes your face flush.

“taehyung! what the fuck!? i’ve talked about you like twice, yoongi, i swear,” you defend yourself, pushing taehyung off of him. you laugh awkwardly, yoongi shoots you both a gummy smile.

“nice to meet you, taehyung,” he completely ignores your defense. he finds it cute, your flustered face as you try to tell taehyung to shut up.

“anyways,” you huff. “yoongi thinks i followed him here, so i am showing proof that i’m actually here with you guys and not stalking him.”

your friends snort at the same time, “actually, yoongi, we have no idea who this girl is! i think she’s following you,” taehyung whisper-shouts, you smack his shoulder.

“no but really, ___ we were just gonna call it a day, seulgi said she has to go to a family dinner soon and taehyung said he was hungry,” jungkook speaks up. it’s then that you realize that their instruments were almost all packed. yoongi looks down at you, a small smile on his face once he realizes what they’re trying to do.

“i leave to pee for five minutes and you guys hatch a plan to ditch me?!” you cross your arms over your chest.

“well… we just told you, so, technically we didn’t ditch you, also i can’t drop you off, yoongi, you can drop her off, right?” taehyung smiles to him.

“i—“ yoongi starts but you cut him off with plans to scold your members. they knew exactly what they were doing and you weren’t having it.

“taehyung, you’re dropping me off, let’s not bother yoongi,” you move to pack your bass but yoongi shakes his head.

“i can drop you off,” he smiles.

“oh, see! perfect! thank you, yoongi.” taehyung grabs his hand and gives him a good shake, before you know it your members are out the door.

you sigh as you lift your case and sling it over your shoulder, “it’s okay, yoongi, i can walk.”

he rolls his eyes, “don’t be ridiculous, are you hungry? we can eat first.”

his hand is outstretched and you’re not sure what it means, does he want to hold your hand? but no, he’s asking for your bass, so he can hold it instead of you. you reject his offer, “i can hold it.”

“you’re really stubborn,” he notes. it makes you snort.

“you’re not into stubborn girls?” the joke slips from your mouth before you can think.

this is the perfect time, yoongi thinks. “if it’s you, maybe i’ll make an exception.”

you try your best not to show any type of reaction, but you can’t really ignore the way your heartbeat quickened. yoongi leads you to his car, putting your bass in the trunk as you get comfortable in the front seat. he follows you soon enough and is driving out of the studio parking lot.

“you don’t have to work?” you question. getting into the car of someone you barely know is quite risky of you, but he was your neighbor, and he was hot. that doesn’t give you a reason to trust him, though for some reason, you think you can rely on yoongi, it’s a gut feeling.

“technically i work all day, i’m on my own schedule, i basically spend the entire day in the studio,” he explains. his focus is on the road but from his peripheral he can see your body turned to him, and your eyes glued on him.

“workaholic?” you guessed, he smiles.

“you could say that.”

“that’s good then, i’m giving you a reason for a break!” you clap, your nervousness fading as you start to get comfy with yoongi.

a friendship blooms from that lucky, odd encounter that day.

you forgot how long it’s been since you officially met yoongi and spent the day with him, maybe two months? three months ago? you never kept track. but you do remember that things changed after that. the two of you so obviously flirting with each other whenever you had the chance. yoongi would offer you a ride to the studio, which you greedily took whenever he asked; because he was a cool guy to be with, and in all honesty you were trying to put the moves on him. you’re not sure if he’s taking the hints though, you’ve never been good at the shy type of flirting, most of the time you’re upfront.

speaking of being upfront: yoongi hasn’t really been complaining about your noise lately, and it’s been eerily quiet on his end. no knocks on the wall when your volume was a tad bit higher than usual, no texts telling you to ‘be quiet’ when you were practicing late at night, nothing. you figure it’s because the two of you have grown a lot closer. hanging out together and even making some inside jokes together type of close.

it’s soon that you figure out why yoongi hasn’t been upfront, complaining to you about your noise, because he talked to your apartment manager about it. you knew namjoon well, he was one of your classmates in college. his father originally owned the place, so he’s been taking over for him. you’ve grown close to namjoon due to situations that left you outside of your apartment multiple times without your keys. his master key saved your ass one too many times. so, when you received a letter from him in the mail this morning with a big red ‘important’ stamp on it. you knew you were in trouble.

the words noise complaints, your neighbor, and eviction were the only ones you needed to read for you to be stomping towards yoongi’s apartment. you didn’t care that it was ten in the morning and you’re banging on yoongi’s door. you knocked nonstop until he opened up. his sleepy face scrunched in confusion as he stood before you.

“___? what’s wrong?” his morning voice could have made you melt, if you weren’t so fucking angry. you step past him, moving inside his apartment. “okay, come in, i guess,” yoongi says as he shuts the door behind you.

“you complained about me?! i got a fucking letter from namjoon! he never sends letters!” you raise your voice. it’s too early in the morning to be yelling, your voice is a bit rough, it sounds like you’re croaking.

it’s also way too early for yoongi to be dealing with this, so his voice is soft when he says, “be quiet, we’re gonna get complaints from the other neighbors now too.” he walks up to you and your very angry expression. he just looks so kissable right now, it’s making you angrier. how could he look so perfect when you’re mad at him? that’s so rude!

you lower your voice when you ask, complying to his demand. you cross your arms over your chest, “why would you do that?”

yoongi laughs.

it makes your eyebrows furrow. was he not taking you seriously? you loved this apartment, you needed to live here. it makes the anger boil a little hotter. “you think this is funny, yoongi? i’ve—” your voice is raising once more.

this time yoongi rolls his eyes. “shut up.” his voice grew deeper than it already was, the bass traveling straight to your lower belly.

you try to act as if it had no effect on you, but your small silence before you spoke made things a little obvious. “excuse me? shut up?” you scoff. your feet carrying you closer to yoongi, breaking the distance in effort to intimidate. yoongi wasn’t one to be scared, if anything, he found it funnier.

but the way that your pretty face looks when you’re angry makes yoongi want to do more, wants to push and push because he can feel the tension between you both. you can too. “yeah, you’re so goddamn loud all the time, shut the fuck up.” he moves a little closer, the distance between you both is almost none.

it makes your eyes flicker to his lips. here you were, thinking that you were gonna teach yoongi a lesson, yet you want to kiss him. “want me to shut up?” your eyes move back to his, making eye contact. he licks his lips in anticipation. “make me,” you press.

you feel his soft hand against your cheek first, leading you to his lips. then it was the plush of his lips against yours. this feeling could definitely make you shut up. before you knew it, you were pushing yoongi over to his couch. he breaks the kiss to plop down onto the couch, you follow suit, straddling his lap.

“if you wanted to make out with me, you could have just asked.” you spoke before reattaching your lips.

he smiles into the kiss, “where’s the fun in that?”

the kiss deepens, tongues exploring each other’s mouths and small whimpers escaping your throat. they go straight to yoongi’s groin, you can feel his hard cock against your core through your sweatpants. instinctively, you grind down, the feeling makes him groan out.

his large hands move to your ass, running over them and trailing up to your waist. his hands sliding under your shirt, you know you aren’t wearing a bra, and yoongi finds out soon after. his thumbs running right over your hard nipples, “eager?” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “i’m just cold.” the lie makes yoongi scoff, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index fingers. now, goosebumps raise over your skin, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

“take your shirt off,” he speaks against your lips. usually, you weren’t one to follow orders, your rebellious spirit screaming in your head, telling you to take control. but you’ve never wanted anything more than to let yoongi have you, let him do whatever he wants to you. because outside of this, he just seems so nice, never mean, never demanding. you can’t help but indulge in this new side of yoongi you’ve discovered.

so you’re taking your shirt off, the breeze created by his air conditioner makes you shiver, but yoongi's warm hands are there to comfort you. running them over your breasts, squeezing them just right as he kisses down your throat. “y-yoongi—” you whimper. his lips find a certain spot that has you grinding harder onto his dick.

“you aren’t very patient,” he speaks against your skin. “i’ll let it slide this time.” a tender kiss to your neck is placed before he lingers on the spot a little longer, sucking and licking, making sure to leave a pretty red mark. he makes his way to your nipple, wrapping his mouth around the bud and sucking. the feeling makes you throw your head back, his hand tweaks your other nipple, refusing to neglect it.

it was true, you were not patient. you hated waiting too long for something, just like how you hate the feeling of your warm core go uncared for. the grinding wasn’t enough at this point, you wanted more, needed it really. “are you gonna fuck me or not?” you push him gently off of your nipple.

an almost annoyed gaze is painted on his face, “are you going to beg?” he quirks an eyebrow.

you weren’t one to plead, “no.”

“then no,” he asserts. you purse your lips, complete dissatisfaction displayed on your face. “don’t worry, kitten, i’ll make you feel good.” yoongi gives in. he didn’t know how long he could hold back, your attitude makes him want to check you, make you cum as many times he wants you to until you’re obeying.

the nickname makes you drip. he’s pushing up from below, his leg kneeling onto the couch as he lays you down. your head lays against the pillow he has on the couch, yoongi gives you a swift kiss before he moves down, trailing kisses on the valley of your breasts and your stomach, stopping just before the waistband of your sweatpants. “yoongi,” you mewl.

“hm? wanna beg now?” he challenges. his fingers teasingly slipping under the band. your body reacts so easily to his touch, your hips slightly jerking up at the graze of his hands.

but you’re stubborn, not wanting to let yoongi win even though the only thing you want right now is for him to make you feel good. “no, never.” you shake your head.

yoongi doesn't verbally reply, instead, nodding and smirking to himself. “can i eat you out then?” he asks. you don’t trust your words, so you nod, knowing you’ll fall into the trap yoongi has set. “i need to hear you say it, kitten.”

“yes,” you quickly say.

yoongi quirks a brow. “yes, what?”

you roll your eyes, just once, you tell yourself. “yes, please.”

“good girl,” he praises. you hate to admit that you liked the way he called you a good girl. your sweatpants and panties are pulled down at the same time, revealing your wet pussy. “so pretty, baby.” he positions himself between your spread legs. you bite your bottom lip in anticipation.

kisses against your thighs and pubic bone are what he starts off with, then a brief kiss to your clit that makes you gasp. “oh, god—” you lean your head back against the couch.

“also, just to let you know, the letter was a joke,” yoongi breathes. mouth ghosting your lips, where you need him the most.

at first you didn’t pay attention to what he said, a hum leaving your lips until then you realized, “what?!”

“i thought it’d be funny to scare you a little bit, namjoon and i are friends, i asked him if he could do it for me.” he explains with a smile on his face.

you rolled your eyes. you knew it was too serious to be namjoon, his style was more so speaking, not letters. you couldn’t be mad at him, at least you weren’t in trouble. but you play it up for the fun, “will you make it up to me?” a sly look on your face.

“what do you want?” he leans his head against your thigh, waiting patiently for your answer. his fingers ever so gently running up and down your thighs.

“your cock,” you demand with a mischievous smile. your hands run through his hair, eyes pleading because you won’t allow your mouth to let the words out.

yoongi acts like he thinks about it, but all he truly wants, is to devour your and make you feel so good. “you don’t deserve it.” he denies you of the pleasure you want, but he surprises you, running his tongue along your slit.

“oh— oh, yoongi,” you mewl. your hands moving to play with your boobs, but yoongi knocks your hands away. he directs them to his hair, telling you to pull. his hands replace yours, playing and tweaking with your nipples as his tongue does the work.

“taste so good, baby.” yoongi loves the sight of you so vulnerable in front of him. you’re bare, naked while yoongi still has all his clothes on. he loves it. your eager body twitching from the ministrations of his tongue. he pulls away for a second, “don’t cum until i say so.”

“that’s not— umph!” you start but yoongi retracts his hands from your breasts, bringing them back to your thighs to spread them further apart. your lips reveal your sweet spot for yoongi to take, and he’s relentless. the taste of you on his tongue drives him crazy. “that’s not fair,” you moan out.

yoongi doesn’t care. he loves being in control. so when your phone starts to ring, yoongi thinks this is the best time to assert dominance. “answer it,” he commands. he pulls away from your pussy, the loss of the feeling of his tongue makes you groan out in displeasure. in turn, yoongi rubs his middle and ring fingers against your clit. it makes you gasp. he slips the fingers in, your walls pulsating against his fingers. another moan leaves your lips. you were completely ignoring the rings coming from your phone. he repeats himself, “answer the phone, baby.”

“but,” you spoke. your worry being that you were so wound up and yoongi’s fingers were still residing inside of you. you knew it would be way too obvious.

“they won’t know,” he assures. a gentle touch against your thigh comforting you, making you believe this was a good idea.

your fucked out brain obliges, your hand moving to reach for your phone. jungkook’s contact name displayed on the screen, you press the green button and place the phone next to your ear. “jungkook? what’s up?” you answer. yoongi’s eyes locked onto yours as you speak.

“speaker,” he mouths. you nod, mindlessly obliging. taking the phone away from your ear and pressing the speaker button. his fingers dangerously still in your pussy, ready to cause chaos whenever he felt like it.

“dude! guess fucking what!” jungkook shouts over the phone. yoongi pushes deeper, bottoming out his fingers. it makes your eyes roll back, a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

you’re moving the phone away so he doesn’t hear it, but yoongi is pushing your hand back into position. “what?” you cough, trying to cover the noise.

“you okay? you sound… weird.” jungkook snorts over the phone, you can hear seulgi and taehyung in the back, their bickering all too familiar.

“i— i’m good.” you nod even though he can’t see you.

“okay, well, this guy from a record label called earlier, he said he wants to take us all out to eat and talk about our future!” jungkook informs. your eyes widen. a record deal?! even yoongi reacts, a cute, surprised look on his face. how funny was it that you were receiving this news with yoongi’s fingers fucking you.

“you’re lying.” you sit up a little bit, leaning onto your forearm. yoongi decides to be nice, letting his fingers stay stagnant in your hole so you can enjoy the news.

“i’m serious! we’re on the way to yours right now to pick you up, be ready in five minutes,” he tells you.

“right now?!” you exclaim. yoongi smirks, starting to pumping his fingers in and out of you, making your breaths a little more labored. “oh— fuck,” you groaned, you tried to cover it up by making it sound like you were annoyed. but anyone could be able to tell what you were doing, the squelch of your pussy loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear probably.

“what the hell are you—” jungkook starts but you cut him off, yoongi’s fingers moving faster and the string in your belly about to snap from the tension.

“okay, jungkook! bye! love you! see you in a bit!” you rush the words out and press the big red button to hang up, throwing your phone onto the floor as yoongi leans over you with a smile on his face.

“congratulations, baby.” he punctuates his sentence with a quick circle around your clit. you’re so wound up, you could feel tears starting to build up in your eyes.

“yoongi, please, please let me cum.” you beg, giving in to his desires. the sound of your begging is music to his ears. he smirks, quickening the tight circles around your clit. your legs spreading wider if that was even possible.

yoongi’s plans were cut short due to your new plans, but he didn’t mind. he was happy for you, and he’s never wanted to make someone cum as much as he does now. “alright, kitten, cum whenever you want,” he whispers in your ear. his fingers coated in your wetness gliding against your clit, it feels way too good. the string in your belly snapping as soon as he gave you permission.

you found yourself letting out some of the loudest moans because yoongi was just that good. “holy fuck, yoongi,” you gasp. your chest rises and falls quickly, taking in as many breaths as possible.

“good job, baby.” he kisses your neck, letting you recover before slipping his fingers out and bringing them up to your lips. at first you furrow your eyebrows, this isn’t something you usually do; but when he says, “open,” you find yourself obliging easily. “good girl,” he smiles as you suck your cum off of his fingers.

you pull his fingers from your mouth when you’re sure you’ve sucked them clean, “i got a record deal dinner, min!” you rush to put your clothes on. yoongi tries his best to help, but all he wants to do is give you a big hug. he lets you put your clothes on before he’s holding you in his grasp, while you’re trying to make your way to his door. the two of you wobbling to his door.

“let me kiss you first, rockstar.” he smiles, his hand gently taking ahold of your face and giving you a kiss. it tastes just like you, the sultry memory that will live in yoongi’s brain for as long as it’s able.

he tries to kiss you once more, but you’re pushing him away. “i gotta go, yoongi,” you giggle. his hands holding you close to him, your back pressed against his front door as you kiss each other sloppily. “yoongi!” you smile, more laughs erupting as he helps you open the door. as soon as the door slides open, yoongi’s eyes move behind you, a sly smile on his face.

you turn to see your three band mates, all of their mouths agape. “i fucking told you! pay up, idiots!” seulgi smacks the both taehyung and jungkook’s shoulders.

your face blushes tomato red. you try to hide your face as you open your apartment door. before you turn the key, you hear yoongi congratulate the four of you. “good luck at your label meeting! make sure they don’t scam you,” he advises. your bandmates laugh, thanking yoongi and moving into your apartment. they don’t let you live down the embarrassment for the entire night.

when you come back home, you sit on your couch. a smile taking over your face when you think about how great the day was. you think the dinner went perfect, and when you hear a knock on your door, it has you rushing to open it.

yoongi stands outside your door with a cupcake and a single lit candle stuck in it. “congratulations!— it went well right?”

you stand in front of him, a sweet smile on your face as you nod. “i think they loved us,” you pull him into your apartment.

“of course they did! you guys are amazing!” yoongi hugs you, holding the cupcake above your head so it doesn’t get in your hair.

the rest of the night you and yoongi enjoy each other’s presence and the two of you talk about everything and nothing.

yoongi says the cupcake is just for you, but you take a knife and split it, “for us.” you give him a quick peck before eating your half, and then kissing him once more.

for us. it repeats in yoongi’s mind.

us.

yeah, he’d like that.

[3wisellamas]

Deltarune Halloween Prompts Day 24: Creepypasta

(Sorry this one's a little late, stuff...happened. ^^; But, I kinda wanted to post this one with today's anyway, so it worked out!)

---

"...Berdly? Are you okay?" Noelle looked at the bluebird on the front steps, panting and with sweat glistening on the tips of his feathers, like he'd just run completely across town. "We, um, said we'd study together tomorrow afternoon..."

"Didn't you get my email?!"

"Uh...I don't think so?"

Berdly looked up at her, disappointed, but tried his best not to show it. He didn't have time to coach her on the proper points of checking one's email every few minutes in case an unsolicited invitation from an ivy league school came in; rather, he cut right to the chase. "I need to use your console to play Dragon Blazers!"

Tilting her head to the side curiously, Noelle led him inside, to where she kept her games. "I thought you had your own console?"

"I ditched it when I upgraded to the Gamestation 360! You know I can't play without achievements or my Playertag, how else would I be able to prove what a superior gamer I am?!" He cleared his throat. "But, well...I have a need to play the older version, and I knew just the doe to help me! I accept your 'You're welcome's in advance!" Smirking, he ignored the dirty look Noelle shot him as she started up the game, and pulled over her laptop to finish the blog post she'd been writing when she'd been interrupted.

"Oh, good idea! I'll need to use your laptop too, to make sure I'm doing this right!" Sighing, Noelle saved her draft and passed it along, so that Berdly could show her that email that had been so important.

"So...you want to try recreating this story you found?"

"I couldn't have said it better myself, my dear Noelle! Except...I kind of did," he replied, clicking the link he'd included.

The web page opened to a listing of stories, rather difficult to read in red text on a black background, but Noelle read down to the one Berdly pointed to. "Drowned Elf Boy, Space Kaiju...these are all about video games?" She snickered, passing the laptop back to him. "These are...just creepypastas, Berdly. I've read all of them a million times!"

"Really?! I-I'm amazed you're so cultured, but then, we geniuses usually are!" Berdly finally found the one he wanted, letting Noelle see. "I found this one last night, and HAD to try it out!"

He'd opened an older story about Dragon Blazers, and it didn't take Noelle long to recognize its contents, nor the author, "holidaygirl1225."

"Um...Berdly?"

"Yes, I know it's probably a long shot, but if we could find whatever the author was talking about, it could be an amazing discovery! And we'd get all the credit!" All too late, though, Berdly realized the flaw in his plan, as he started a new game and watched three entire minutes of opening cutscenes. "Oh no, wait...this is in the ice area, isn't it? That's over six hours into the game..."

"Oh! Hang on a second!" Noelle held out her hand, motioning for Berdly to hand her the controller, and she loaded her old save file right outside the area. "I...still have this."

"You kept a file here?!" His eyes wide, Berdly looked up at her with new appreciation. "You must've known this area had its secrets! That's why you're the smartest person I know, aside from myself of course!"

"Of course..." Deciding it'd be best not to let on exactly why she had the file, Noelle watched as Berdly tried retracing the creepypasta author's steps, getting more frustrated with each moment his character spent lost in the icy maze. "It's not working! They must've copied these directions wrong, or deliberately made it so you couldn't follow them..."

"Here, let me try." Again, Berdly handed off the controller, and Noelle reloaded her save to start from scratch. Taking a few moments to remember the steps, she made her way through the maze, but as she did so the realization of what she was doing hit her, and yet again she panicked, going down instead of up at the end.

"Oh...whoops, I guess that wasn't it!" She passed the controller back to Berdly. "You can try again, but I guess it's impossible."

"Yeah..." Sighing, Berdly made a few more attempts, but then gave up, switching off the console. "Guess it was just a made-up story after all. Oh well! I'll go see if there's any secrets in Dragon Blazers VII, or at least get that 'No Damage on Any Boss' achievement I've been working on!"

Once he left, Noelle booted the game again, going through the maze just as she had a few minutes before, the only difference being her going up instead of down, and there it was. Pushing down the reflex to scream and shut off the game just like when she was a kid, she approached the gray door, checking it, poking it, prodding it, trying every way she could think of to open it, but without the key she was once again stuck.

"Someday..." Making sure her save file was still in place, she shut off the game.

[op-peccatori]

Hopefully, Yours (part 2) | MLQC Victor

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Victor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 8326

Summary: It took some cake, a friend, and some impulsive behaviour, but they got there. (part 2 of Hopefully, Yours)

Warnings/Tags: making out, language, my cheeseball antics

a/n: I was afraid of opening this doc at one point because every time I did I added more words to it ;; Also accidentally deleted the first draft, so I hope I didn’t leave anything out for this one. 

[video]

After Hours | Victor and Y/n

200, 280 views • Feb 8th, 2020

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JTV ✓

1.19M subscribers 

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5100 comments

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somsom 5 minutes ago

They’re both so nice. Victor’s always made out to be this heartless CEO, so it’s nice to see this side of him :) 

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tooktiktook  7 minutes ago

hmmmMMM

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cheribb 15 minutes ago

their eyes said more than enough <3 <3

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saltqueen 16 minutes ago

what i wouldn’t give to have someone look that soft over me

                                                    ⌨⌨⌨

Victor eyed the cheerful grin splitting Jason’s face, just a little uneasy in his seat. 

While having eager eyes on him was not an unfamiliar experience, he’d never been in a position where he was expected to talk about his feelings on camera. Not that he was about to confess in front of the entire crew of the show, but when it came to you the lines always got a little too blurry for his comfort. 

He got a little too eager.

“Just be nice,” Jason had instructed gently, and Victor steeled himself. 

They started, quite predictably, by asking him about his ideal type. Resisting the urge to scoff, he tried to stick to the script he’d worked on with Goldman, who had insisted on being present for today’s shoot. Not that Victor was complaining; it wasn’t exactly part of the job description, but Goldman had been enthusiastic, which Victor could appreciate and would certainly reward. 

Goldman had also spent most of yesterday handling the public relations department in his absence, preparing them for his appearance on the show. A tentative plan would be sent to him by tomorrow morning. He had faith in them, believing that they would be able to make this look good for him. 

“Someone who works hard,” he answered, knowing you would laugh at that. “Who can be themselves around me, someone I can be myself around. Someone...kind.”

The times you’ve spent in Souvenir flit through his mind, some quiet and some full of bright-eyed chatter.

“You’ve known Y/n for some time, right?” the interviewer asked. She looked nice, but he’d been on the block long enough to know that even the kindest faces can often hide the sharpest teeth.

“Yes.”

“What do you think of her?”

“She’s a very kind person,” he said easily. “One of the most hard-working and inspiring people I’ve ever met.”

You would surely gape like a fool after  seeing this. It was a little embarrassing, but Victor was determined to leave your image shiny after this. He would not have any words of his twisted to give you a bad name. If it got even a fraction of his feelings across, well, that was a bonus he wouldn’t mind having. The intimate setting of the ferris wheel had seemed to help some, but his admittedly indirect confession didn’t reach you as he had hoped.

God, but his father would love this.

“Did you have fun on your date?”

“It was lovely.” They tacked on another question and he nodded. “I...yes, I’d love to do it again.”

It was a little curt, but he didn’t really get what Goldman had meant by ‘nod tenderly with a far-off look.’

What would you think of that?

The interviewer raised a brow, her smile widening. “Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

For some bizarre reason, the first thing that had come to his mind at this question was his inexplicable need to check your social idea every day. And the way his heart beats just a little faster when you’ve posted a new picture. How, in moments of weakness, he’d given in and saved a few to his phone. Even a mental reminder of it made him a little hot under the collar.

There were many things he couldn’t even begin to try and explain when it came to you.

Really, the list is endless.

Victor’s current favourite was the video you’d uploaded of eating the tiramisu he’d cooked. He watches it at the end of a bad day and just like that, he feels a little better.

“I think anyone who ends up with her would be the luckiest person in the world,” he said honestly. “She’s beautiful in every single way.”

The last three words were supposed to have stayed in his head, but saying them felt natural. Goldman seemed to approve, shooting him a discreet thumbs up.

When you walk in, sleep-deprived and grumpy but trying to hide it, thinking he won’t catch on as if he isn’t running sharp eyes over every inch of your face. When the first sip of your coffee is too eager, leaving your tongue burnt and him with a pressing need to soothe it with his own. When you eat too much sugar and complain about a stomach-ache; he scolds you for it, but his arms are left straining with the need to wrap themselves around you.

He cherished these moments and wanted every single one all to himself. 

She makes me greedy.

“Would you want to be that person?”

Victor laughed, light and incredulous. 

Yes. Yes. Yes. 

“I guess time will have to answer that question for us,” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips, leaving it at just the right note to keep viewers hanging—right along with him.

lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

Hope y’all enjoyed the episode! #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp sooo really sorry about this but we’re kinda dying over here

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@headaccs Victor’s acc is still private. Maybe there’s something there? 

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@berryberry But Y/n’s isn’t private, and there’s nothing there. Give it up guys, they’re just friends. 

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bandanaman @headaccs

@hotsauce bruh that look?? was not friendship 

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@hotsauce those words?? were not friendship

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srirachafire @hotsauce 

@headaccs @berryberry you two?? are hopeless romantics

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lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

@headaccs honestly? me too D: 

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp !!!!!! asdfgdvsd

Closing your Moments and the entire thread discussing the episode, you flop back down onto your mattress. Reaching for your newest plushy, you hug it tight, perhaps a tad too aggressively. 

It’s odd. You struggle between the visceral sort of pleasure that comes from a job well done—because the response is terrific—and the trembling nerves that come from watching yourself on a date with Victor.

Watching the episode had been harder than you had expected; you hadn’t quite been expecting the way Victor was looking at you—the intense gaze was a little too convincing, and watching it from the audience’s perspective was flustering. 

You spent most of it trying to suppress the inconvenient surges of hope, telling yourself it wasn’t real.

There really was nothing to know. The ferris wheel shot had ended there because you had nothing to say to Victor’s answer. You don’t know if he was referring to his past or his present, but the look in his eyes made it clear: his feelings were still there. Instead of pressing him, you chose to stay quiet, exhaustion clear in your face and sinking deep into your bones.

Victor had seemed to understand and maybe even appreciate it, probably not wanting to discuss it either, and only insisted on dropping you home. The ride to your place had been mostly silent, but you had tried to ask him his thoughts on the day and the shoot. He kept his answers concise, appearing a little distracted, which was so unlike him it made you wonder if he regretted opening up.

You’d spent the entire ride trying to quell the delicate little thing trembling in your chest.

The next video started while you were lost in your thoughts, and it happens to be your individual parts. Curious, you lean in, wincing slightly at the way you were fidgeting. 

And then they switch to Victor. You both had to wear the outfits from the date for these, but you still weren't quite expecting the impact his voice alone would have on you. 

And as always, those fierce eyes have you freezing in place.

“Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

He looks unfazed by the question. Of course, they go over the questions with you beforehand, but you still remember how nervous you’d felt when asked how you felt about him; Victor’s eyes flick towards the camera, filled with intent, as if addressing you—and you close the laptop with a snap, your throat tight.

You don’t have to watch that right away.

You had been very careful about what to say, how to act, channeling your inner-Victor to adopt a marble-smooth expression. Say nice things about him? Easy, you didn’t even have to make anything up. Imply just enough to keep people guessing. 

Keep your unwanted feelings to yourself. 

Palm coming to rest over your heart, pressing down as if it would alleviate the ache there, you try to sort through your thoughts. You never really thought there was a chance, but to hear it confirmed was a blow you weren’t prepared for. 

It’s ridiculous to feel so insecure, you think. You feel like you lost a competition you had never even had the chance to compete in. And over an unnamed, mysterious figure? So silly! 

But another part of your mind says it’s okay to feel this way, that it’s only natural. You’ve had such strong feelings for Victor for so long. And all of these feelings, the good and the bad, are yours; the wounds of your heart, the light in your laughter. Fighting them would only make you suffer. The love and the hurt are part of you, both important in their own right.

Knowing all of that doesn’t make it easier, though. 

After all, Victor had alluded to his feelings on camera, to your face. Knowing him, he would never do that unless he was sure about the person. 

“This fucking sucks,” you admit out loud, and at the heels of your words come the tears. Because, to make it even worse, people really seem to think it’s you. 

You can’t blame them, because even you had been taken in by his soft looks. Anyone watching would believe he’s smitten with you. Good for the show, terrible for you. 

You’re not strong enough to reply to them, to tell them you aren’t that fortunate, and have been hoping Victor, or someone from his team, would put a stop to it. 

But there hasn’t been any word from them and you curse out loud at the fact that he expects you to do something about it. As if there’s any more emphasis needed, your phone vibrates. Unlocking it with a miserable sigh, you scroll down quickly.

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Minor [19:40]: am I watching this right? Boss, are you dating the CEO? PLS SAY NO

Chik [20:21]: You bitch. When were you going to tell me you snagged THAT? So I was right back then, ha! Anyway, you two are adorbs. The puppy eyes are disgusting. I’m proud of you.

Chik [20:22]: also...deets. Now. I’ll even throw in a please!!! 

Lucien [20:40]: Well, now. I seem to have missed out on quite the opportunity.

Kiro [20:45]: I wish you’d invited me. But I guess it wouldn’t have mattered. I hope he makes you happy, Miss Chips! He better, or else ;P

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Frowning at the texts you scroll back up, hoping, hoping, hoping, and at the sight of the name that always sits at the tip of your tongue, you curl up tighter.

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Victor [21: 05]: Are you okay?

Y/N [21:20]: I’m fine. Moments seems to be blowing up, haha. Did you watch the episode?

Victor [21: 20]: Yes.

Victor [21: 21]: Did you?

‎

You pause at that, looking guiltily at your laptop. You had, sort of. Fighting off your own thoughts had taken up most of your attention. Resolving to watch it again—a clear display of previously dormant masochistic tendencies, roused by Victor— and actually pay attention this time, you turn back to the screen.

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Y/N [21:22]: Yeah, but not the individual parts. It was nice, they made it seem so real! But we’re going to have to say something to let them know there’s nothing like that.  

‎

You wait anxiously for a reply, a part of you clearly suffering from delusion hoping he’d oppose that. When there’s no text from him for a few minutes, you plug your phone in to charge and get out of bed, heading for a quick shower before you get something to eat.

Heartbreak hasn't been enough to curb your appetite, and you feel more than ready to let dessert have the chance to make you feel better.

Who needs Victor when you have cake, right?

Just as you’re halfway through cutting a slice of the cake Jason—well, his team—had sent as thanks, trying to keep your thoughts away from the bottle of wine you‘ve got tucked away, your doorbell rings, breaking the melancholic silence of your apartment. A part of you wants to roll your eyes at your dramatics, while the other feels you have the right to wallow for as long as you need to.

The irrational side of you stirs once more, conjuring thoughts of Victor rushing over, and you peep through the hole with a wildly thumping heart. 

Lucien’s serene smile chases those thoughts away, and you open the door with a sheepish grin. 

He looks a little tired, his dark bangs ruffled; unlike his usual sharp appearance, he looks impossibly soft in his barn red sweater and comfortable looking track pants. He’s also got a folder tucked under one arm.

“Hi!” 

“Sorry to drop by so late,” he greets you, his warm eyes bringing you a little comfort instantly. “But you mentioned you’d be working on Miracle Finder tomorrow and I wanted you to have the chance to go over my remarks before that.”

“Lucien! Thank you,” you insist, waving away his apology. “Would you like to come in? I’ve got cake.” 

He searches your face for a moment, and his eyes narrow the slightest bit. You feel a little self-conscious in your over-sized sweatshirt and shorts, but it’s not like he hasn’t seen you in various states of disarray before. 

“Can’t really say no to that. Let me get my laptop,” he finally agrees. You wait at the door as he gets it, before leading him in. But you notice his curious, inquisitive looks, so subtle and so Lucien, as he toes off his shoes.

“Everything okay?” You reach for another plate, cutting a second slice as Lucien takes a seat at the table. 

“Yes, of course. It’s just,” he hesitates, and there’s that odd scrutiny again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be alone.” 

“On a Sunday evening?” The first bite of the cake tastes like sweet comfort over the taste of despondency, and you send a silent thanks to Jason. “I spent the day napping.”

“Well, after the show I just watched,” he says, quite slyly in your opinion. “I wasn’t even sure if you’d be home.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in dating shows.” You’re aware your tone is more than a little petulant, but Lucien only laughs around a mouthful of the cake. 

“I am if you’re in one,” he retorts. “This is quite nice, by the way.” 

“The director, Jason sent it. And, honestly, it wasn’t planned. We were supposed to have Kai and Hollow on, but they ended up clashing horribly. Jason asked me and Victor was around, so…” you trail off, uncomfortable. 

“Is that why you texted me that day?” He seems to have remembered your message, and you wince slightly. You had texted him later with an apology, but hadn’t really expected him to cotton on. He doesn't look mad, just expectant.

“Well, yes, but Jason wanted, he wanted Victor.” Stumbling over your words, heat suffuses your skin as you flounder for a moment.

Lucien watches you with the eyes of a fox and the understanding of a good friend. “Just Jason?”

“Huh?”

“Was it just Jason who wanted Victor?” he asks, tilting his head as your mouth purses. 

No, no, of course it wasn’t. You stare down at your half-eaten cake, the other half of it beginning to churn in your stomach. His small, soft smiles. His scent. His rants on street food and the way he dragged you away from food that would ‘absolutely make you ill, you absolute dummy’ as Jason resigned himself to having to cut all of that out. It all comes back in a rush, your head left feeling heavy.

And then it feels the weight of a hand, as Lucien reaches over to pat it gently. “Never mind. Why don’t you get your organizer and we can go over tomorrow’s episode?” 

Relieved, grateful and slightly emotional over his silent acceptance, you rush to your bedroom to find your notebook and laptop, barely catching the light of your phone screen before it went black. Unplugging and checking it as you exited the room with your materials in hand, your train of thought comes to a screeching halt.

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Victor [21:59]: Do you really believe that?

Victor (2 missed calls)

Victor [22:15]: Y/n.

Victor [22:16]: ...Did you fall asleep?

Victor [22:18]: Dummy. Goodnight. 

‎‎

Unwilling to delve into what his first text means, you shift your thick planner in your arms and type a quick reply. 

‎‎

Y/N [22:19]: Hi! Sorry. I went to get something to eat and then Lucien dropped by. We’re going to get to work haha ^^

Victor [22:19]: …

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You wait for a whole minute before Lucien calls for you, and let your hand fall, phone locked, with a sigh. 

Well, at least he’ll be happy to hear you’re working hard.

Sinking into familiar, engaging discussions with Lucien is easy. Even with the thoughts of Victor looming at the back of your mind, you straighten out a plan for the shoot. Lucien listens to your input carefully, adding his own notes as you squint at yours. His voice, familiar and soothing, lulls you, distracting you from yourself for a short while.

Before you know it, it’s eleven and you’ve got a fantastic plan in hand. 

“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” you say for the second time in a minute, and he gives you an exasperated look. “And thank you.” 

“I’ve told you, there’s no need for all that between us,” Lucien repeats, crossing one long leg over the other as he adopts a thoughtful look. “However, perhaps you could satisfy my curiosity regarding one thing.”

“What is it?” 

You were prepared for a philosophical question. What he comes up with is, in your opinion, way more difficult to answer. 

“Why aren’t you with Victor?” he asks seriously. You blink, uncomprehending.

“Like, right now?” 

“Right now, or in general. I didn’t think he would just...let you be,” Lucien mutters the last part under his breath, but you still catch it. He continues to say something about possessive bastards, but you’re not touching that.

“I think you’ve misunderstood,” you say, slowly, with a nervous laugh, shoulders hunching a little. “All of that was just for the camera. Victor and I aren’t like that.” 

“But you have feelings for him,” Lucien points out, cutting straight to the heart of the matter and yours. Really, this is almost cruel. Lucien turns to face you fully as you sigh and sink back into the couch. 

“I do.” It’s the first time you’ve admitted it out loud. Sure, some of the people in your life have had an idea, but you’ve never said it. Lucien seems like a good person to start with. “But he doesn’t feel the same way, so.” 

And you’ve never said that out loud either. It hurts, as you put it out into the universe. As if shying away from it before would have increased your chances. 

Lucien looks at you oddly. “Did he say that? Because the way he looks at you says otherwise. It’s quite embarrassing.”

You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I’ve never told him how I feel,” you mumble, pressing the side of your cheek into the soft fabric, hoping it would swallow you up. 

“Then how do you know how he feels?” Lucien continues to probe, and you exhale forcefully because it’s so clear to you; why isn’t it ever as clear to everyone else? 

And Lucien is supposed to be your smart friend!

‘Well, there’s also someone else in his life but I can’t exactly say that.’

“Because it’s Victor,” you declare with an emphatic sweep of your hands, hoping it would somehow get your point across, that it would explain how unattainable he is. Just as you do, two things happen successively. 

One: Lucien looks at you as if he wants to boink you on the head or laugh really loudly. He does neither, but his mouth twitches violently.

And two: there’s a series of loud, heavy knocks on your door, before the culprit seems to remember you have a doorbell and rings that instead. It only rings once, but you can sense that the person is still there.

Exchanging alarmed looks with Lucien, you rise to your feet and shuffle towards the door.

“Let me,” Lucien murmurs, stopping you before you can reach the entrance, and steps forward to look through the peephole. His only reaction is a quick, sharp exhale before he steps back to unlock the door. 

Without telling you who was just knocking at your door like a maniac. 

“Wait, who i-” the words fall away with your panicked thoughts, as Lucien opens the door to reveal your uninvited visitor.

It really is Victor this time, with his chest heaving as if he’d run up the stairs. Victor, with his inky hair pushed back carelessly, in dark grey sweats and a light grey t-shirt and indoor slippers. 

Victor, with a furious look in his eyes as he pushes past Lucien, who looks a little too entertained in the face of such ire. 

“Sorry to intrude on your cosy evening,” he says, after a short pause, through clenched teeth. You stare at him in disbelief, unable to form actual words at the moment. It feels as if a concentrated storm itself has swept into your living room, ready to swallow you up. 

Of course, a part of you would be more than okay with that. Even with that knife-sharp glint in his eyes, you can’t help but want to throw yourself at it, let it graze the softest parts of you, in an emotional variation of bloodletting. 

Sometimes you surprise yourself with the things you think.

Maybe you should’ve changed into nicer pyjamas after all, damn it.

“Victor? What-is everything okay?” You look him over carefully, seeing no visible signs of injury. The stony look on his face, however, keeps you from coming too close. What could you possibly have done now?

Swiftly, you run through a list of work-related tasks. Nope. Nothing. You’ve been sure to give it your all this week just so Victor wouldn’t feel the need to call you.

Even now, though, something under your skin starts buzzing, as it always does when his entire attention is on you.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t everything be okay?” he says mutinously, crossing his arms over his chest. Okay, you’re sensing more than a little hostility here. 

And, because life is unfair, bitchy is also a good look on Victor.

“Well,” you draw out, looking past him at Lucien, who shrugs lightly. Victor frowns at the exchange. He levels a downright lethal glare at Lucien, who tilts his head in clear interest. Kinda hot, but you should probably keep that to yourself lest you push Victor to the point of spitting fire. “It’s...late...and you’re here…?”

That has his mouth doing that little spasm it does when he’s pissed. “And I notice I’m not the only one. What, is it just me who’s barred from coming to your place this late?” 

“Well, n-no,” you stammer, looking once more at Lucien who seems content to watch and be unhelpful. “But Lucien was just here to talk about tomorrow’s episode.” 

Why are you here? 

The question seems to hang in the air, unsaid yet clear. 

Victor says nothing, standing tall in your living room like an indignant matron. You feel helpless, confused, elated and increasingly offended because of the implication in his words that only catches up to you now.

You pick the path of offense.

“But what, exactly, did you think Lucien was doing here?” you ask, your tone turning decidedly cooler. He returns your glare. Behind him, you see Lucien trying to hide a smile. “You seem to be under the impression that I make it a habit of entertaining people in my evenings?” 

Victor blinks at that, arms coming loose, and you hold up a hand.

“And even if I did want to have friends over at night,” you say loudly, through gritted teeth. “What business is it of yours?” 

“It’s inappropriate,” he insists. 

“No, what’s inappropriate is you coming into my house and telling me who I should, or should not, be spending time with, regardless of the time.” Much to your frustration, you find yourself blinking back tears as your voice cracks towards the end. 

Victor deflates at that, the ice in his expression melting in the face of your furious tears; Lucien, concern clear on his face, takes a step towards you. Your eyes squeeze shut, as if that would hide you from them; anger and embarrassment war within you at not only crying in front of Victor, but to have a quiet Lucien witnessing this ridiculous drama. 

Where did your peaceful day go?

You hear footsteps, hesitant and barely audible, come closer, feel the heat from a body as it nears yours. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” It’s Victor.

Your eyes snap open to the sight of his back, your feet carrying you forward without the aid of your thoughts, a hand curling loosely into his t-shirt. 

Leave? Just like that? 

He stops in his tracks, looking back down at you in surprise. You’re not sure what he sees as you keep your eyes fixed on his shoulder, but it makes him sigh softly.

A thumb wipes under your eyes, gentle, and strong arms wrap around you carefully, pulling you into an—unreasonably broad, you think—chest; his comforting scent envelopes you, pulling you back from the edge. 

It’s frustrating. You want to yell at him for barging in like a lunatic. But you don’t want him to leave. You want to sink into his steady embrace and allow the solace it brings.

With your face pressed to his t-shirt, you miss the way he looks back at Lucien, who nods and turns to leave, but not before holding Victor’s gaze for a moment longer—you don’t see the warmth drain from his face, the vicious warning warning clear in his eyes. 

Victor pulls you closer, nodding once. 

If Lucien’s answering smile is a touch more resigned than amused, neither of them can really acknowledge it. 

You try to pull back when you hear the door close gently, but Victor cards a hand through your hair and you slump back into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, stroking your hair, with a gentle hesitance uncharacteristic for the decisive man. “That was...extremely inappropriate of me. I should not have done that. I can leave. I should.”

He should. But neither of you move. His heart beats a little faster, the sound clearer the longer your ear remains pressed into his chest. 

With cotton in your mouth, your mind totally mush with the knowledge that Victor’s hugging you, and with the little voice yelling that he does not get to hold you after driving you to tears—it takes you a moment to form a response. 

But you can’t resist. “So what you’re saying is you made an impulsive decision.” 

The soft motions of his hand pause before he huffs into your hair. There’s no other response, and it makes you smile a little.

“Why did you?” you finally ask. Victor quite visibly lost his cool. While he did seem to have something against Lucien, this was a bit much. You hadn’t been aware that the hostility ran this deep.

He tucks your head under his chin, the arm around your waist tightening, and as the anger subsides, your face begins to heat up as you realize how intimate this is. But Victor seems content to stay like this, and your heart hammers when you feel something brush the crown of your head. 

“Dummy,” he mutters, and yes, his words are slightly muffled by your hair, and you feel the urge to stick your head in the refrigerator. “You had that guy over this late at night. Do you really need to ask?” 

“It’s just Lucien,” you respond, and this time he lets you pull your head away to look at you with abject disbelief. 

“Just? There’s no just with that guy.” He seems serious, so you swallow the laughter bubbling up.

“Lucien is a dear friend,” you assure him. “You were really that worried about it?”

“Worried,” Victor repeats, staring at you. Your confusion is clear in your face, as the feeling that you’re missing something creeps in. “Worried. Yes. I was worried.” 

You nod encouragingly, and take a quick step back when he laughs. It isn’t one of his airy laughs, that escapes him when he finds something funny. It’s low, almost strangled—and then he steps forward, expression melting into sheer intent. 

When he speaks, his voice is a full octave lower and it scrambles your brains with shameful ease.

“Since he was the one you considered over me for our date that day. Yes, I suppose I was worried,” he muses, matching every unsteady step you take backwards with one towards you. You refrain from pointing out that it was for a show, and all too soon, the back of the sofa hits your hips and Victor looms over you. 

You tuck the part about him knowing you wanted to ask Lucien first away for later. Victor, his soothing scent, the heat from his breath, his tempestuous gaze—your senses flood with him.

“Y-yeah. But you didn’t need to be, he always helps us out,” you point out confusedly, and he gives you a familiar, unimpressed look that brings a small, and odd, measure of relief. 

“What kind of a person would I be,” he says, and your stomach swoops as he leans over you, hands resting on the top of the sofa as you lean back. “If I let dangerous men like him think they have a chance with you?” 

“Dangerous? He’s…” The rest of his words catch up and you can’t think, tongue struggling to form coherent speech. “Not...dangerous?” 

“Too dangerous,” he murmurs, lips brushing over your temple. Something in the back of your throat trembles. “Even if I don’t have the right, I…”

He doesn’t continue.

Holding your breath, you count to five before releasing it, pulse beating an anticipatory beat in your veins. “Why should anyone think they don’t have a chance with me?” 

You know he hasn’t, but with how everything in you stills after asking that question, you wonder if he stopped time.

You’re not sure if it’s the right question to have asked, or the worst.

But it gives him pause, and when the tip of your tongue slips out to wet your lips, his eyes slide down to your mouth. A large hand slides up your spine to rest at the back of your head, your skin erupting with goosebumps at the touch. 

Your lips part on the softest sound and it makes something rumble in his chest, quiet but clear with how close he is. 

It gives you what you’ve been dreaming of—Victor’s lips falling over yours, soft, with a rushed breath and fervent eyes, something desperate at the edge of it. Everything goes quiet, with only your blood pounding in your ears. It feels as if every inch of you is awake in a tingly sort of way, your thoughts deserting you at the way he looks at you, ready to devour. 

There’s hunger in his eyes, and you feel faint when it hits you.

It’s also his answer, you realize, mouth opening to say something, anything, and he pulls you back, kissing you fiercely. Something in you caves, spilling into your blood, setting it alight with a burst of sparking desire.

Victor kisses with his entire body, like he does everything else: controlling every inch of it, sweeping your mind clean, licking into your mouth with the determination that drives his every action, to conquer.

But you’ve been determined to match him since the day you first met him, all too eager to push back and clash. You don’t mind the clack of teeth, the lack of rhythm, and Victor only presses in harder as your arms slide over his shoulders, fingers weaving into his hair. Your tongue is a sly thing that licks along his, your mouth a clever warm weapon that sucks at it, and he unravels. 

Hands that were so careful lose their caution as they dig into the sides of your hips, slinking down and hooking around your thighs as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“You’re not stopping me,” he rasps against your lips, almost questioning, pupils blown wide. He looks so good you might just lose your mind, and this is after a kiss.

Taking a page out of his book, you kiss him again. 

He carries you around the sofa—with a strength you’ll be sure to admire deeply once you’ve regained the ability to form thoughts—even as he sucks bruises into the delicate skin of your neck, sitting down with you sinking into his lap. 

You’re shivering, you realize, at this sudden fulfilment of a desperate, impossible wish. Your knees press into the sides of his thighs as Victor kisses the corners of your mouth, the curve of your upper lip, the plush, swollen jut of your lower lip—and you feel deliriously drunk. 

He watches you carefully.

“Oh,” you say, half-slurring, kissed stupid. “That’s why.”

“Hm,” he agrees, nuzzling the side of your face. His eyes are bright, his arms a grounding touch around your back. “No one should think they get to have this.” 

“No one but you?” It’s meant to be clever, sharper, but it comes out shy instead. He nips at the shell of your ear, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it. 

“If you allow it,” he confirms. He presses his lips to the soft skin behind your ear.

Something swells within you, sweet, sudden and threatening to dissolve you into tears. It breaks open, everything you’ve worked so hard to suppress spilling out like hoarded treasure out of a box now too small to hold it.

“I like you.” It comes out in a rush, and you slap your hands over your face. This time, his low chuckle rings clear in your ears. But when your breath hitches on a sob, his grip on you tightens, lips finding your forehead. “I really like you. So much. I have for a while. At the fair, all of it, I wasn’t...wasn’t acting.” 

“What, and you thought I was?” He looks a little offended when you take a peek at his face. But the sight of his ruffled hair and kissed-puffy lips sends a hot, thrilled jolt through you, and you have to restrain yourself from pouncing. “I have many skills. Acting, admittedly, is not one of them.”

“I thought maybe it was a hidden passion or something,” you mutter, trying to repress a wet laugh at the withering look he gives you, gentle hands wiping at your eyes. “What, you were great!”

“Nope. That was all real,” he declares, pulling you in to rest against him, your head on his shoulder. You feel a little awkward, but that’s mostly outweighed by how much you want to stay here. “...well, maybe I was a little…”

“Nicer than usual?” you offer, and he huffs into your hair. “Cheesy, like you binge-read several romance novels the night before?”

“Cheesy?” He protests, and you laugh with warmth building and rushing through you. “I thought you liked all that.” 

“I do.” This time, the kiss he presses into the crown of your head is firmer. 

“Then I’ll do it.” You look up at him, a little enchanted, a little bewildered, but the former wins out as the corners of his mouth curl up. “Every silly thing you want to do. Oh, and I really like you too.” It’s almost a scoff, but the tremor in his voice and the flush that spreads across his skin speaks his truth.

“Really?” you ask, your grin a little mad and ridiculously beatific. It feels unreal, the joy and relief spreading through you; he pecks the tip of your nose.

“Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?” Victor asks, and the solemn sincerity in his voice prompts you to deliver a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek, just because you can. To your unending joy, the lobes of his ears are almost impossibly red. 

“Never,” you assure him, peppering more kisses over his skin, fascinating by the sight of him pinkening. A thought strikes you, dampening your rising spirits. “I thought...thought there was someone else.” 

He makes a soft, surprised noise in his throat, disbelief winning out over the tenderness for a moment. “Who?”

“I don’t know!” You press your face into the side of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent, hoping it would help with the remnants of hurt. “Some mystery goddess.” 

He’s quiet as you nuzzle his rapidly warming skin, feeling the first hints of sheer mortification settle in at the way your voice just cracked. He whispers something. 

“Sorry?” 

Victor clears his throat. “Just you.” He buries his nose in your hair before you have the chance to lean back like you want to. “It’s only ever been you.” 

Not expecting the sincere confession, it feels as if the breath was punched out of you.  “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

He toys with a strand of your hair, curling it absently around a finger. “I didn’t want to overstep. And to make you feel like you had to reciprocate.” 

You stay silent, sensing that he has more to say, even though you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go.

“I’ll admit that I feared you would feel pressured to be with me. And that would...I would rather see you happy with someone else, than see you miserable with me.”

“I could never be miserable with you,” you protest at once, feeling almost offended by the mere suggestion. 

“I’m not...I know I can be difficult.” The words fall out in a rushed exhale, as if he wants to get them out before they can be swallowed; you feel weak with the force of your emotions. “But I can try for you. I did that day. I wanted you to relax, to have fun, like you do with your friends. I didn’t want you to be so...cautious.” 

It’s true, you realize guiltily, that there are times where you can’t completely relax in Victor’s company. Those are the days where your feelings sit a little heavier in your stomach, when his words strike a little sharper. The thought of disappointing him, of doing something not to his taste, of judgment, held you back. 

But the day of the fair had been different. He met you halfway, maybe even more than that, and never said a word of complaint. You’d assumed that had been for the camera, though.

“Please,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you realize you’d said that out loud. “No, that was…” He lowers his gaze, long lashes fanning over the tops of his cheekbones. “That was to show you that you can have fun with me too. I...like you. The way you are. Every bit. The determined, unyielding parts.”

You stare at him.

“The hurting, unsure parts,” he says, a little quieter. “The silly, ridiculously cute parts—don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what,” you ask, your overworked mind trying to process his words, knowing your smile is probably embarrassingly dopey. 

He scowls at you. “Just be yourself with me. Dummy is fine.” 

“Victor,” you exclaim all of a sudden, startling him. “How am I supposed to stay standing in the face of you saying things like that?” 

He rolls his eyes again. “First of all, you’re sitting right now, and I don’t plan to let you move for a while.” Predictably, you feel a little lightheaded at that. “And as for the future...then don’t try to stand, dummy. You can just rest here.” He pulls your head to rest on his shoulder, patting it firmly.

“I’m going to die,” you say with absolute certainty into his shoulder. “I can’t survive this.” 

“You have to,” he mutters dryly, tucking you more firmly against him. “Haven’t you seen the discussions? Our ‘love story’ can’t end in your death, too many would be left devastated.” 

“Including you?” The look you direct at him is positively vulpine, and he snorts, pushing your head back down. Bully. 

The titillated fluttering in your stomach makes you smile.

“...I can’t become a widower before we even get married,” he says solemnly, and you can nearly feel the blood drain from your face as you rear back. 

The corners of his mouth twitch with something like mischief, and the smack you deliver to his bicep is perfectly justified. 

The undoubtedly chiselled muscle you feel very briefly will also require further rumination once you’re alone.

He’s cracking marriage jokes, no doubt referring to the few comments gushing about a secret wedding. An hour ago, you had been under the impression that he was madly in love with some mystery figure. 

Like a bird just freed, your heart flutters at the thought of him having feelings for you.

“Say it again.” 

To his credit, he doesn’t do you the disservice of pretending he doesn’t know what you’re asking for. He clears his throat, eyes flicking to the side before finding their way back to yours. 

“I like you,” he says, a little lower, a lot deeper. “Dummy.” 

You wish you could see what your face was doing, because it makes his eyes go really, really soft. Now that you aren’t weighed down by the frantic need to hide your feelings from one of the most astute people you’ve ever met, you feel like you could float away the way you’ve seen Gavin do, just from how free and happy you feel.

“Just for the record,” you say quietly. “I like you the way you are too.”

“Hm?”

“Even when you’re being a jerk.” He tweaks your ear lightly, rolling his eyes when you giggle. Your heart beats a harsh beat as you try to come up with the right words. “But you’re also the best man I know. When you have it together, and when you don’t—I’ll be there for you. Always.” The way he’s always been there for you.

He kisses the tip of your nose, his pretty eyes a little shinier than before.

“We should aim for a real date first.” He sounds decisive, and a little hoarse.

“...I have a list of places I thought would be good for our first date,” you admit, eyes still locked with his despite your shy admission. He looks pleased, always happy when you take the initiative, and you watch his mouth do that tender thing for a second before leaning in for a swift kiss, catching his lower lip between your teeth as you pull away.

“Good.” His head falls back onto the sofa as your lips trail down his neck curiously, mouthing at the slope of his adam’s apple. Just because you can. “Send it to me.”

“Good,” you murmur, breath hitching in your throat as his hands curl over your waist, skimming the hem of your sweatshirt. “We’re doing this, then.” 

“Most definitely.” With how throaty his voice has gotten as you reach his clavicle, a gentle explorer, you’re not sure words will be your allies for much longer.

“Will you be my boyfriend then, Mr. CEO?” you ask playfully, tasting the words in your mouth. Victor makes a soft, content sound in his throat. 

“I’m all yours,” he affirms, relishing the words in his mouth, raising his head to look at you through hooded eyes. You both know it, just a little, but saying the words brings a giddy, vulnerable sort of feeling with them. “And you…”

With no need for hope, just certainty, you rise up to kiss him softly. 

“I’m yours.” 

BTS:

Goldman stares at Jason in horrified disbelief, shocked by the words that had just left the director’s mouth. He glances at his boss, whose only reaction had been to cock a brow. 

“Would you be open to replacing Kai?”

“I’m...not really one for such shows,” Victor says, quite delicately in Goldman’s opinion, knowing the man usually has no qualms about being savagely blunt.

“I’m aware. I just thought it would be something different, something that would let people see a different side of you,” Jason explains, still completely at ease. 

Victor’s expression makes it quite clear he doesn’t care about people seeing other sides of him.

“Who’s the other participant? Did Hollow come back?” Goldman asks, curious despite himself.  In his very personal opinion, which he will definitely be keeping to himself, it might be nice for Victor’s image if people saw he isn’t always heartless. 

“Oh, no. She didn’t,” Jason says pleasantly. But the look in his eyes is almost hawklike as he keeps them locked on Victor. “I asked Y/n to do it instead. She agreed.” 

Now, to the untrained eye, Victor gives no outward reaction to that statement. 

But Goldman sees the way his brow twitches, the way his lips purse the slightest bit. He wonders if Jason, as a director with many years of experience under his belt, caught it too. 

“She agreed?” Victor asks, sounding as if he doesn’t quite believe it. 

“Yes,” Jason answers, suddenly distracted as he glances at his wristwatch. He sighs, a touch too dramatic to be convincing, but Goldman doesn’t think Victor cares about that. “But I understand. We wouldn’t want you to do something you’re not interested in. I have to go check on her, we’ll keep you updated.”

Something is happening here, Goldman realizes. Jason isn’t rushing out, but seems to be waiting for something. 

Victor, staring at the surface of the coffee table, is struggling. 

Goldman struggles too. He struggles not to roll his eyes in abject exasperation, to pray for divine patience. Why is he like this? Of course, to step into such an obvious trap surely goes against all the instincts he’s honed over the years, but none of that matters when it comes to the delicate matters of the heart! 

Instead, he catches Jason’s eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose, eyes glinting. 

“But who else would you ask to step in on such short notice?” Goldman asks, pointedly. 

And finally, Goldman holds his breath as the ghost of a smirk passes over Jason’s mouth.

This is it.

“Oh, it shouldn’t be a problem. Y/n said she could call Professor Lucien, having already guessed Victor wouldn’t be, um, up for it. She really knows you well, huh?” Jason informs them cheerfully, and even Goldman isn’t expecting that. He thought Jason would go for the ‘who will help poor y/n’ route.

It’s obvious manipulation, and they all know it. Knowing Victor, he will stubbornly refuse to give in and suffer for it. At least, the way he’s glaring at Jason seems to indicate that.

Goldman rushes through several justifications in his head, forming a rapidly coherent argument as to why he should do it, carefully keeping ‘if you don’t want to see her with someone else, suck it up’ and ‘please, please, watching you sulk is really sad I can’t do it’ off the list. 

Surely, Victor wouldn’t let the sexy professor sweep you off your feet? He’s heard the man talk, that kind of smooth talk should not be allowed and holy hell, Jason has played this really well. 

“They do get along well, so it should work,” Jason muses, slathering a little more icing on his three-tier cake of clear-cut manipulation, drama, and subterfuge.

“I’ll do it.” It’s said through a tightened jaw, but it rings clear in the silence of the room. Goldman abandons his mental speech, head whipping around to stare at Victor.

“Oh?” Jason sounds genuinely surprised, as if he hadn’t been aiming for this from the start. 

“Yes,” comes the answer, leaving no room for argument. 

“Are you sure?” Jason asks, oddly somber, finally abandoning the pretense. So he is in possession of some morals, who would have thought?

“Give me the briefing,” Victor says, shoulders set in a firm, determined line Goldman is all too familiar with. 

Jason relaxes into his seat, relief clear in his face. 

And as Victor turns to him, giving him specific instructions about his outfit, cologne and flowers, determined to do this right with that familiar, besotted spark in his eye, Goldman feels warm pride trickle in. 

‘We’re gonna get you the girl, boss.’

Aaaaaaand...CUT. 

I know the last behind the scenes thing wasn’t really needed but I had to 

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it!