#if i lie down a certain way i am in all 3 spaces. and i am only 5 fucking feet tall

[inkskinned]

these days, the summer fan is on, and there is a little cricket in you. your mother would say you don't have ambition, but that's not quite true. you just had different priorities: for most of your life, the pain swallowed so much of your energy that picturing a future was almost impossible. it took so much just to render yourself here without evaporating - making goals always felt shallow, far-off.

at 17, maybe you would have wanted to be famous. maybe you would have wanted to kiss every woman and come home late at night and call the dawn to heel like a dog. to meet taylor swift and ask her to collaborate on poems and french-kiss in the rain. to wiggle your fingers at jealous ex-lovers while you lifted the hem of your ballgown and got out of limousines. a life of rooftops, spinning and glittering.

these days, it isn't that you're tired, but that you have learned the weight of carrying things. you have had the good times. you have laughed at the bottom of a pool. you have had your hands on the paring knife. you know the cost of it, like a carcinogen. these days, you want a life like a stone fruit. these days, you want a life that lays gently on your skin, rather than piercing through.

you are going to get a little condo with your friend. the two of you fantasize about basic things: how it will feel to cook in a friendly kitchen. the serenity of picking out wall paint colors. putting plants in the sunlit corner. you want a place that never rings in anger. where the only echo is jazz music. you want a peace like holding your head under the water.

ah. maybe your younger self would be devastated - you got boring?

she doesn't know yet. she has lived her entire life terrified, running. she has grown so accustomed to the threat that she has fallen in love with the scythe. she thinks passionate and violent are synonyms, that anything lovely has to come with a bad side. she thinks life has to break like a wave - that you need to swallow the ocean in order to stay above the foam. she doesn't know about the boat yet. she doesn't know about spending hours at home, quiet, your hands folded, finding peace. she doesn't know about weightlessness. she thinks everything good is everything sharp. that the pain is what makes something satisfying.

one day she will make cookies from scratch. one day when she breaks a plate, she will be the only one around, and nobody will start shouting. one day she will slip her fingers under the sand, and it will make sense to her. the life assembling in little shards: oh. i've been afraid of a quiet life at home because i've never had a quiet home to come to before.

the gentle world inside her, singing behind a door.

[storm-angel989]

Dad val and the other vees with a chubby reader who's insecure about it? I absolutely adore your writing sm and the way you write Vox makes me soso happy <33 !!

Hi Friend,

So sorry for the delay! I am so so glad you like my writing and I hope you enjoy the story! Remember to love yourself and your body as much as the Vee's love Reader and hers!

<3 Mandy

I can tell you exactly when I started to try to take up less space. 

Being the daughter of Valentino, it was expected that I behaved a certain way. Look a certain way. After all, my Uncle Vox made sure that I knew from a young age that I represented the Vee brand- and their brand was perfection. 

So I obeyed. I did everything that I was supposed to do. I did yoga with Aunt Velvette. Went to the gym with Uncle Vox. Joined a sports team like my father expected me to. Was an active human being, even when I didn’t want to be. Even when I just wanted to lay on the couch and do nothing. 

“It’s good for you to move your body,” my Aunt Velvette told me when I protested. “It’s stress relief. It’s flexible. It’s healthy. We take care of ourselves, even when we don’t feel like it. Now come on, let's get to it.” 

On that same note, Aunt Velvette controlled what I looked like in public, or in school for that matter. I wore exactly what she dressed me in. My hair was always done, my makeup on point, and my nails perfectly polished. In my mind, I was to be their little darling, an icon of perfection, the true representation of their brand. I had all the activities, all the possessions, all the confidence of what it meant to be one of the Vees. 

With the start of middle school came the mandate of uniforms. Pleated skirts, tucked in polo shirts. Knee high socks and brown loafers. Suddenly, I couldn’t hide behind the outfits my Aunt Velvet tailored to my shape. Sure, she tried, but with everyone dressed the same, body issues began to stand out. 

“You look fine darling,” my Aunt Velvette told me as I stood in front of the mirror before the start of the year.

I watched as she pinned my uniform to be tailored, an ugly blue and gray plaid. 

“I hate it,” I said out loud. 

“I know. I’m not a fan either. But you look fine,” she repeated as she stuck the final pins in. 

The first day of school brought whispers. Overnight, girls who had been best friends became worst enemies. Wars fought with cruel words whispered and notes passed between classes. 

Shorter. Skinnier. Too tall. Too wide. Chubby. I tried my best to ignore it- Aunt Velvette taught me that there was no victory in making others feel bad about themselves. 

 If you lost a few pounds, you’d be so pretty, the note appeared in my locker mid-october. My throat tightened, and I felt as if I had swallowed an ice cube whole. Unsure of what to do, I stuffed the note in my backpack until I could get home. 

Standing in front of the mirror, for the first time in my life, I studied my body. Sure, I was a little bigger in my tummy, but I wasn’t the biggest girl in the school.

But you’re not the smallest, either, a little voice inside my head whispered. 

It was then and there I made a decision. I would eat a little less, work out a little harder at the gym. And that would fix this whole problem, right? I stepped on the scale and took note of the number as I promised myself the next time I got on, it would be smaller. 

“Bebita, are you feeling alright?” my dad asked over dinner two weeks later. “You haven’t eaten much.”

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered in response. 

That was a lie. Every inch of me wanted to consume every bite on my plate. My tummy ached with hunger that stemmed from skipping breakfast and lunch earlier in the day. But while the number on the scale had gone down on friday, a weekend of inescapable meals with my family brought it right back up- and some, by Monday morning. Not even my extra workouts alone in my room had made a difference. 

I felt my Uncle Vox press his hand to my forehead. 

“You’re not running a fever,” he declared. “Does your stomach hurt?”

I nodded and my father gave me a concerned look. 

“You can be excused if you’d like to go lay down. If you don’t feel well tomorrow morning, you can stay home and rest. Did you do your homework? Do I need to check it over and sign your agenda book?” 

“I don’t want to miss school,” I said quickly. “I’ll fall behind.” I pushed back my chair. “But, yeah. To the rest. It’s all in my backpack by the door if you can check it over and sign it.” 

“Will do,” he replied evenly. 

I felt his eyes on me as I made my way back to my bedroom. Every part of me felt achy, sick and weak. I gathered my pajamas and stepped into the bathroom, hoping that a hot shower would help. As soon as I was done, I crawled under the covers and closed my eyes. Exhaustion floated through me, but to my frustration, sleep wouldn’t come.

“Baby? Are you awake?” I heard my Aunt Velvette’s voice, followed by a knock.

“Yeah,” I called back. “Come in.” 

I heard the doorknob turn and close behind her. I pushed myself upright as she walked over and sat on the bed next to me. 

“Look, sweetheart. Your Dad was going to come talk to you, but I convinced him to let me handle it. He went to sign your agenda and found this stuck to the bottom of it.” She said as she handed me the crumbled up note. “Care to explain?”

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. “I found it in my locker like two weeks ago.” 

“Mhm, right. So does that explain the tummy aches at dinner? Or the fact that you haven’t touched your breakfast stash?” She asked. 

I hung my head. She sighed and pulled me to her. “Sweetheart, kids are cruel. Your body is just fine the way it is.”

I felt the frustration rise. “Aunt Vel, that isn’t good enough. I’m a Vee, am I not? I mean, Uncle Vox says it all the time, the Vee brand is perfection. If I’m not perfect, what does that say about the brand?”

“That isn’t…ugh, no. Honey. He means more…your father…” she sighed. “Don’t pay that any mind. It has nothing to do with you. You’re perfect just the way you are.” 

“Apparently, I’m not to some people,” I grumbled. 

She rolled her eyes. “And those people are wrong. Look. You move your body. You eat healthy. Your body is perfect, just the way it is, I promise.” She leaned over and kissed my forehead as she wrapped her arm around me. “Don’t you ever think otherwise.” 

“Thanks, Aunt Vel,” I muttered as I leaned into her. 

The door knob turned and we both looked up. My father and my Uncle Vox walked in and joined us on the bed. 

“Hey baby girl, feeling better?” my Uncle Vox asked.

I opened my mouth to tell him yes, but Velvette turned around to face him.

“Now you both listen to me. You tell this sweet child she doesn’t need to be perfect and her body is fine the way it is. And you, Vox!” She leaned over and grabbed the corner of his screen. “If you ever insinuate otherwise, there will be a lot more than a hairline fracture shattering that face of yours.” She stood up and began to drag him across the room. “Excuse us while your Uncle and I have a little chat.” 

“Ow! What did I do? I didn’t write the fucking note, ow!” Vox yelled. 

I watched as Aunt Velvette pulled him out of the room. My father sat down on the bed next to me and pulled me to him.

“You don’t need to be perfect and your body is just fine the way it is,” he said as he kissed my forehead. “I know school is tough, but we love you more than you will ever know. We want you healthy, mi amore.”

“I don’t like that I’m bigger than the other girls,” I muttered as I laid my head on his shoulder. “Daddy, if I’m as healthy as you guys keep telling me, why aren't I smaller?”

“Bebita, bodies come in different shapes and sizes. Some are bigger, some are smaller. All are beautiful,” he said softly. “Your body is perfect the way it is, sweetheart. All you need to do is treat it well, because it’s the only one you’ll ever have.”

I felt my stomach growl in agreement and he leaned over and kissed the top of my head. 

“How about we start by getting some food in your tummy? Come on out to the kitchen with me, I’ll make you whatever you’d like.” 

I jumped off the bed and followed him out to the kitchen. Several blueberry pancakes and listening to my Uncle Vox talk about how he was calling the school the next morning, my father tucked me back into bed with another kiss on the forehead. 

“I love you, princessa. And remember, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. There isn’t a single entity in this universe who has the privilege of making you feel bad about yourself. Do you understand, mi amore?”

I nodded and he leaned over and shut the light off. 

“Good. Now sleep tight, bebita princessa.” 

[marine-indie-gal]

After doing some Two Related Drawings of the Same Franchise, I have recently decide to join in a New Fandom that is "Space Goofs". I've watched Season 1 a lot recently and even seen the Gameplays behind the Video Game Adaptation, "Stupid Invaders" (I have heard of its Lost Cancelled Movie despite the Trailer still being up). I also have lost All Interest in Season 2 since I've been living a Lie throughout my Childhood that it was only Five Aliens rather than just Four since Season 2 was my very first exposure to the Franchise back on my Old Streaming Days on Rovio's Streaming Service, "Toons.TV" (before it got shut down).

I was actually in its own Fandom from back then, but that wasn't because I had to pay to much any attention since My Other Former Ex-Main Fandoms (which were only the Popular Ones that everyone else knows about) were my Former Hobby until when I grew out of it since not only did I realize that had my Love for Obscurity has grown so Wild through the Past Two Decades.

So I've decided to dig up an Old OC who I once actually gave to My BFF, @luci-the-stan-18, but now, since I am going to back to one of my Dead Childhood Fandoms that are actually still active, Me and My Friend have decided to create our own Personal Multiverses of Our Own One Certain Character for the sake of our own Personal Collaboration of a Second Refresh Reboot.

Introducing My Personal Take on Our OC, Star...As a Space Goofs Character.

Back then, when I created Her as a Single OC of Mine (before my Life had changed), I've wanted her to be an Xilam OC of Mine being raised by the Five Titular Aliens (being an akin opposite story quite similar to Disney's "Lilo and Stitch" but have the Roles for the Earth-Beings and the Aliens to be "Swapped"). Like, instead of having a Story of an Stranded Alien Experiment being raised by Humankind on Earth, why not have a Story about an Abandoned Animal being raised by Stranded Extraterrestrial Life on Earth?

Since I've wanted to give an Abandoned OC of Mine a New Refreshing Start to begin early of this Personal Adaptation towards this OC, I've decided to add more to Star's Character as a Mixture (not only with "Lilo and Stitch") but rather have my own Personal Version be also a Mixture to both the Foreign Czechoslovakia FairyTale and it's Obscure Adaptation, Karel Jaromír Erben's "Otesánek" (also known as "Little Otik" by Jan Švankmajer). In My Personal Views to the Concept behind "Space Goofs", I often see the Concept alone as an Idea for an Early 2000s Kids Live-Action Movie with Early CGI or even a Surreal Foreign Live-Action Film, rather than a Foreign Kids Cartoon about Aliens disguising themselves as Humans while still trying to get back to their Home Planet.

Anyway, here's my own re-take of My Own Rebirth of an Old OC of Mine that is now Mine and @luci-the-stan-18's Character.

Star is a Tabby/British Shorthair Mixed Breed Cat and is the Former Pet/Adopted Daughter of the Space Goofs. She was the Daughter of an Alley Cat who was the Random Fling of a Stray Cat that had to take care of her own Kittens (including Star). However as both Star's Biological Mother and Siblings were dead, the only Ones left Alive where Star and one of her Siblings as The Two Kittens only survived but got separated to different homes as Star was taken in by the Five Aliens who try to give her a Proper Home but then later Took her in as a Family Pet.

After when the Stray Cat had a One Night Stand with Star's Mother, the Mother got pregnant and couldn't find where her False Lover was so she had to take of herself alone. Upon during her pregnancy on One Night, she gave birth to her Six Kittens (3 Girls and 3 Boys). Because the Mother was once born to a Loving Family but then had lost her First Owners from a Far Away Town when she was Young, she had to raise her own Kittens the Hard Way as the Family lived somewhere in the Streets beneath the City near to where the Other Stray Cats live in the Junkyard. Star's Family was extremely poor but no matter how they thrive through their lives, Mother Cat would do anything to keep Herself and her Kittens alive as she would often look After, Protect, and even hunt Food for them.

But that was all about to change.

One day, when Star and one of her Siblings were playing around in the Streets, they accidentally bumped into a Group of Rabid Stray Dogs who chased them throughout the Whole City's Streets (even through a Market Place) until when The Two Kittens finally escape the Stray Dogs' clutches by climbing through a Fence (causing one of the Dogs' heads to get stuck through it) as they instantly ran back to their own Mother. After some time after the chase, Mother Cat then thought of the idea that maybe it would be best to move within to a Hideout where No Stray Dog or Evil Human could possibly find them beneath the streets. 5 Days later, when it came through a Dark Night, when it started to Rain Hard as a Storm came, the Mother instantly took her Kittens and ran throughout the streets as fast as she could be, but it was a Huge Crazy Rainy Night as Star accidentally slipped herself through the Wet Boulevard and landed on the Roads to where Star's Mother instantly came to rescue her off the Road until a Truck came and hit the Mother off the Road. Horrified by this incident, the Kittens tried to wake up their Mother but it was too late since the Mother had her own Very Last Life out of her Nine Lives. Heartbroken by their Mother's Death, Star and her Siblings had to flee themselves through the Streets without their Dead Mother but unfortunately, all of that ends in Another Tragedy when Star's siblings accidentally slip into the Stream from the Rain as the Kittens were trying to swim in order to escape. Luckily, Star had to be the one to survive from the Waterfall as she managed to climb up the Boulevard as she was about to rescue her own Siblings by grabbing a Gigantic Flower Steam as the Siblings had to hold on when Star held on to her own Rope as her Siblings managed to climb up to get to their Sister but when the Steam broke, they were all pulled from the current of the Water as they all fell right through the Sewer. They all drowned from the Water into the Sewers, only Star was Left Alive (but One Other Sibling was perhaps alive too). Only then, did Star had to survive throughout the Terrible Rain when she lost her own Biological Family and had to rested for the Night in a Small Neighborhood (which is where her true story begins).

The Next Morning, Star wakes up and finds herself in a Neighborhood within the City, only then does she look around and find herself within a Place where Citizens live in their own Houses. Upon the Kitten's Curiosity, she tried to find any House to have shelter in but none of the Humans seem to notice the Kitten at the Neighborhood's streets until she then stumbles upon a Big Mysterious Blue Mansion behind the Gates which already caught her attention as she went through the Gates and right into the Mansion. At first, what the Mansion from the Inside did seem very quiet compare to the rest of the Neighbors as she explored from around the House. What Star didn't know is that she was deeply unaware that she was somehow being watched from the Five Space Creatures beneath the Attic that the Goofs have found their New Victim to kick her out on so that she wouldn't recognize the Aliens that are hidden within the Big House alone. When Star discovered a big nose from upstairs when she heard weird sounds coming from up the Mansion, she journeyed herself upstairs & upon her own surprise from the Attic was none other than the Aliens themselves. Scared at first, the Kitten immediately screamed as she ran out of the House & went back on the Streets as she hid herself from the Blue Mansion. While she was originally thinking of going back to the Big City, she realizes that a Gigantic World is no place for a Young Cat herself to adventure out there alone so she decides to make the Neighborhood a New Place to live in as she would then sneak herself in away from the Humans in the Neighborhood (especially the Aliens themselves).

When a Family moved next Door of the Space Goofs' Mansion as New Neighbors came by, the Space Goofs disguised themselves as Humans in order to now have to contact with their New Neighbors from Next Door as the New Neighbors decide to welcome themselves to the Disguised Goofs, Star makes her own move to sneak in the Space Goofs' mansion in order to pick up the attention of the Other Family (so that she can be adopted by the Humans). But as the Parents didn't recognized her, the Family's Daughter by the name of "Ambre Lou" (aka the Girl from the Cancelled Movie, "Stupid Invaders") noticed that there was a Cat hidden somewhere around in their House and asked the Disguised Aliens if they did had a Pet Cat to in which response they answered "No" because they didn't had a Cat (which causes the Goofs to believe that the Orange Kitten that they saw before has come back).

After the visit, the Goofs decided to find out on where the Kitten might've been again but Etno decided to confront the Kitten by himself as he found Star hidden in the Bush from their Backyard. Etno wanted to have a reason with Star on why she came back after investing their Hideout but the Poor Kitten looked very scared since she was very dirty, lost, and abandoned. Feeling sympathy for the Poor Cat, Etno decides to take Star back to their House where He and the Goofs decide to give the Poor Kitten some shelter.

For awhile as the Poor Kitten was now being taken care of thanks to the Aliens, Star decides to roam around their Attic while the Goofs mind their own Business but when she stumbles upon Etno's Lab, she finds his Scientific Potions as drinks one of Etno's Chemicals which causes her to give her own Talkative Voice.

When the Goofs find out on what she had been sneaking through in one of their Rooms, the Kitten apologized as she explained her Whole Backstory of why she came into the Neighborhood as she explains the Tragedy of her Family and that she's very sorry for trespassing their own House. When the Goofs began to felt such sympathy for the Poor Cat, they felt like wanted to raise her and give their House a New Home (especially Candy) but Etno figured out a plan that if they were to give her a New Home, they might as well sell her to the Humans for a New Home but the rest of the Goofs (except for Gorgious) disagree with the idea of selling the Abandoned Cat to the Humans (especially with Candy) but Etno believes that if they were to give an Adoptable Animal to a Human, it might still keep them safe from the Humans if they were to find out their True Identities. Leaving with No Choice, they helped the Kitten to be adopted for free in order to have any of the Humans have a New Animal as a Pet.

When the New Neighbors' Daughter recognizes the Same Kitten that she last saw, she notices something very suspicious about their Neighbors' Concerned about their "Pet" since Star kept being Adopted by New People but no matter how she tried to live within their House, None of the Humans seem to either Care or weren't Just Good Owners for the Young Animal as she would keep running back to the Goofs every time when her Adoption kept failing.

When the Goofs had enough of trying to get rid of her, they decided to keep her and even continue to take care of her as she was all Healthy now. They decide to name her "Star" (only because she didn't like being kept called "Kitty") as Star now had to live with the Space Goofs for Shelter until when Etno can finally find a New Home for Her for the Humans.

However, as the Weeks came for Star's shelter life being taken care of by the Stupid Invaders, she does get along with the Goofs very well.

Candy Mothers her a lot while treating Star as if she was his Daughter. Gorgious tends to spoil her a lot after not being interest in her at first until he started to grow fond of her as if she was his own niece.

Bud loves Baby Animals and adores Star as they often hang out together (either if they play or watch TV).

Stereo likes to teach Star on how to read and to be smart, but like Bud, they would usually hang out with her like a Sister.

Etno's case is far the Most and Main Relationship out of the bunch since Star grows fond to like Etno since he was the first one who found her as the Two have a Mutual Father and Daughter Relationship.

But whenever the Goofs are in disguised to blend within the Human Society, they would usually act as if they were a Family with Star being their own Pet of the Group (even if she's still not officially adopted) whenever they tend to go out shopping or to visit their own Neighbors as Guests, even Star made Friends along the Way who are also Pets of the Other Neighbors.

One Day, during a Birthday Party at one of the Neighbors' Houses when the Disguised Aliens were invented, Ambre Lou finds out that Star can actually talk after when she spoke accidentally when she got out of the Restroom for Ambre Lou always knew that there was something suspicious going on with her Neighbors Next Door (that being the Supposed Aliens). But Star encourages the Girl not to tell anyone the truth behind her Caretakers' True Identities or else, Evil Scientists out there might hurt them and that she would be all alone all over again. Fearing as if though that the Great Big Fear might come anytime soon if anyone else would start to notice besides than Her, Ambre Lou made a deal with the Cat not to tell anyone about the Alien Neighbors as the Next-Door Neighbor Tween would keep Star's true owners a huge secret from anyone else. Although while the Daughter truly wanted a Friend to hang out with, She and Star somehow start to become friends for whenever the Next-Door Neighbor Family would visit the Goofs' home, the Child and the Kitten would often hang out with each other as they started to grow a Friendship bond between One Another.

After growing such a Mutual Family with the Space Goofs for 2 Months, sadly, her own Shelter comes into an end when Etno had recently met one of the Neighbor Families (which happens to be the Owners of One of Star's Friends) as he signed Star for adoption to a Human Family which shocks the Entire Goofs but it also heartbreaks Star since they had made a promise to take care of her which clashes into an Argument as the Group wouldn't allow to take Star to any Human but Etno assures that it is best for Her if the Humans were to find out their true nature which causes Star to think that maybe Etno's right and that it is for the best to keep their own identity safe.

Regardless of the Disagreement, Star agrees to the adoption as she is now sold to one of her Friends' Owners but she proudly thanks Etno and his Crew for taking care of her as Star was now sold to her New Owners of Humans.

The Next Day when Star and her New Owners are on a Weekend Vacation near a Beach, a Bounty Hunter by the name of "Bolok" (who was hired by Mad Scientist, Dr. Saccharin) was said to capture both the Aliens and the Kitten so that the Scientist could have an experiment on the both of them as Bolok then sees the Family's House and suspects that this must be where the Aliens' Former Pet must be at.

When the Bounty Hunter arrives at the Door, he starts to ask the Family questions at first if they had noticed something suspicious about one of the Neighbors that being the Aliens themselves (which shocks Star as she hides behind the Furniture, fearing that maybe her Alien Friends have might been targeted for experimentation).

Tired of the Confusing Questions, Bolok starts to instantly freeze Star's Human Owners with an Ice Razer Gun which causes Star to hide from herself but when the Alien Assassin recognizes her for the very first time, the Kitten had to face up the Alien Hunter alone.

Bolok starts to ask Star such suspicious questions on what her Old Alien Friends had been up to through a plan this whole time as the Professional knew where exactly The Orange Kitten had been hiding from when he had heard that she was the last surviving member of her own Family and that the Aliens stole her away as he assumed that her own Talking Voice was from the Aliens who had been experimenting Her like a Test Animal.

Star denies on what Bolok is saying was Highly False as she was never meant to be a target that would lead to where the Space Goofs' true hideout is. Ignoring from the Actual Truth, as Bolok was about to kidnap the Orange Kitten to take her, Star's Puppy Friend (Cleo) instantly bites Bolok on the leg, causing him to scream (while accidentally blasting the Roof from the Vacation House) which causes Star to immediately run away from the Hunter through a Wild Chase scene of Many Hijinks throughout the Whole Chase but when Bolok instantly crashes into a Farm (mostly like with Chickens), Star adventures herself on the Road to get to the Space Goofs so she can warn them that they're being hunted.

Back at the Space Goofs' Neighborhood, when Star then returns to the Blue Mansion after a Wild Goose Chase, the Goofs are confused on why she came back after when they gave her a Last New Family of Humans to live in, but Star confronts them telling them that they're going to be captured by the Evil Scientists and their Bounty Hunter who founded her. Feared by the Dreadful News, Etno decides to come up with a Plan to stop the Alien Hunters from preventing into going into their own House, so they all team up to start doing some Booby Traps before the Bolok and Other Hitmen that Dr. Saccharin hired would come and get them.

When the Alien Hunters start to investigate the Entire House just to find on where the Aliens and their Cat are hiding, but that's when the Booby Traps come in as they easily step or come across in, things start to go wildly crazily as the Alien Hunters try to survive literally every hijink throughout the House's Traps until when nobody can survive through the Alien Traps, they all instantly leave and fail to capture them.

After the Whole Booby-Trap thing, the Gang were relieved that all of the Alien Hunters were out thanks to their Traps, However, one stood up and didn't get Booby-Trapped with them was Bolok as he quickly step in from behind and grabbed Star from the Back which shocks the Whole Goofs that One Last Hitman didn't get fall into their Traps. Failing to stand up to the Hunter, Bolok instantly points the Aliens with his Razer Gun as they all had to come outside of the Door to reveal themselves as the Kidnappers caught the Aliens (and the Cat) as they bring them to the Scientists but when Bud quickly opens the Truck Door, Star escapes, leaving the Aliens behind to get experimented.

Star fears that she doesn't make it in time to save them, they might get trapped forever. So she comes to Ambre Lou and asks her for Help after explaining on what happened. Agreeing upon this Deal, Ambre Lou calls all of Her Friends (as well as their own Pets) in a Mission to stop Dr. Saccharin before it's all too late.

The Rescuers managed to get inside of Area 52 (which is located around in the Desert) after a Long Road Trip Journey through the Spaceship that they've used from the Aliens' House as they were far away from the City, Ambre Lou's Friends along with their own Animal Companions managed to distract the Scientists while Star and Ambre Lou make a run for it. When The Goofs are inside of tubes, Dr. Saccharin is glad that Bolok had finally caught them after he ordered Igor to kick Bolok out without paying as Saccharin has plans to experiment the Five Aliens and then Blast their Home Planet (Zigma B) but when a Loud Sound disturbs the Doctor, Saccharin and Igor go and investigate it, only to find that there was Nothing there, being deeply unaware if it was the Kids and their Pets that were making all of that Noise. It all turns into a Big Huge Trap for the Scientists as they were completely locked out, thanks to one of Star's Friends as Star and Ambre Lou free the Space Goofs out of the Tube. As the Goofs are completely glad that they are being rescued, they realized on how that now they've got to get out of here before Saccharin even blasts their Original Home (meaning that they've got to stop the Evil Scientist first before quickly going back home).

But when the Space Goofs and their Animal Rescuers are all caught by the Evil Scientists and the Security Guards (who also caught the Human Rescuers), Dr. Saccharin (along with Igor who have both got out of their trap), is very unamused to see Children freeing the Aliens out in disappointment but his attention draws when he notices the Kitten that they've completely forgot about and that he realized that he should've have experimented on the Kitten first before he could get his stumpy little hands on the Aliens. Repulsed by this, The Space Goofs and Star immediately flee away from the Scientists after when Ambre Lou pulled the Lever as Saccharin and Igor fall in, which leads into a Gun Battle between the Kids & The Animals vs. The Adults, as The Space Goofs & their Kitten run in the Hallways to get into Dr. Saccharin's Space Ship.

They finally made it to the ship as the Goofs felt very excited about going Home using someone's Rocket, but Star feels very sad about this. Because she knows that when the Space Goofs go home, they may never see each other again but Etno assures Star that maybe she should join Ambre as she could take good care of her in a New Home, but that he promises that maybe someday they might see each other again in Flight once they're finally back in Space.

But they're are immediately stopped by Dr. Saccharin when he closes down the Door shut permanently through a button and grabs Star by the Neck, threatening to kill both the Kitten and the Aliens if they don't get back inside of their Test Tubes, he'll then Test Star in a Cage.

Having enough of this Whole Slavery for Testing, Candy immediately goes all "Mama Bear" on Saccharin as he attacks Saccharin like a Wild Animal by scratching his Face which causes the Mad Scientist to drop Star as Star hangs on tight to the Cliff Floor (which is near the Edge) as the Poor Kitten meowed for help, making the Space Goofs shocked in Horror as one of the Goofs (that being Etno) stood out and rescued Star as he grabbed her by the Paw, then, throws her up back on the Ground.

The Goofs quickly aboard to the Ship as they all get inside with Saccharin inside as the Whole Family were still in conflict with the Mad Scientist when the Ship began to start taking flight.

What they didn’t realize was that the Ship itself was somewhat a Bomb (not a Zillion within it, unlike the Game version) to blast the Space Goofs’ Home Planet with a lot of Toxicity that can easily kill the Space Goofs when they get back to their Home Planet, they’ll quickly die within the Bomb inside, in which they've realized that they're gonna be doomed of death along with their Home Planet. As Saccharin was about to take advantage of the Ship that they were in, Star instantly jumps up to scratch the Doctor to bite him to distract the Space Goofs so they needed to figure out how to stop the Bomb from dropping down on Zigma B. While a Big Huge Fight had to lash on out during the Flight takeover with the Scientist fighting against the Space Goofs with his own Ray Gun, Star instantly saves the Space Goofs’ lives from the Toxic Ship as she figured it out on how to stop the Bomb by using her intelligence, in order to stop the Bomb from dropping by pressing the correct buttons.

When the Ray Gun ran out of Power, Saccharin was about to hit either one of them but when he accidentally pulls down the Lever by mistake, it causes a Big Huge Split inside of the Spaceship to fall apart separately. The Aliens and Star quickly run up the ladder into the Capsule (the First Half to where it’s still Flying) whereas Saccharin (whose on the Second Half) falls down back on Earth where the Second Half explodes, managing to survive from the Crash but ends up getting arrested by the Police after when he betrayed Bolok (who called out on him).

As soon as the Goofs were fleeing back home, they instantly get hit by a Meteor once again as they crash down back to Earth.

After the Whole Incident of what had Happened, 5 Days Later, the Goofs were already back in their Blue Mansion after when Ambre Lou and Star had to recover their true identities when the Space Goofs told Ambre Lou everything about their truth as they had to keep a Huge Secret from their Neighborhood as it was only Ambre Lou and her Friends who only know about their Neighbors being Aliens and kept it as a Secret away from Everyone Else as a Major Promise.

While Star did had to stay with Ambre Lou for the Entire Week until all of the Kidnapping had to fade away from their Memories as they needed to relax for a brief while, Star really misses the Goofs that much as she feel as if though that throughout the entire time, they did felt like they were Owners to Her as she realized that maybe she already did found a Family of her own. She asks Ambre to leave her at the Space Goofs' front door as Star goes inside of the House with the Space Goofs watching her through their own Channel in the Attic, confused on why she came back.

She then explains her Whole Memories with them downstairs as the Aliens listen through every word that she said through a Camera and that she realized that she did had already found a Family all along and that all of this time, the Space Goofs were her true owners that she first fond when she was abandoned throughout her life while she did apologized of the whole Craziness last week as she understands their pain since she always had herself being kept from the World from her Mother. Feeling the Understanding and the Guilt that was behind them the Entire Time, the Goofs had change their mind as they all ran downstairs (just before Star was about to leave) as they convinced her to stay with us as they all changed their own Minds as they now wanted Star as their own Family Cat. Even Etno did realize that maybe he was truly wrong of selling Star to a Family of Humans the Entire Time. Finally welcomed in Arms, Star was happy of the Aliens accepting her as when the Next Day as they disguised themselves as Humans, they signed the Ownership of their New Animal as Star now lives with her Alien Family throughout her life and that someday, when they all ride home, she will be joining her own life on Space far from Earth.

This Old AU of Mine involved around this OC was technically the kind of "Character Gets Adopted and Grows a Mutual Relationship with Family" sort of thing, which I know happens a lot in Stories but I still love the Whole Adoption Family trope thing, even to this day. The Main Inspirations behind Star that I drew were Mowgli from Rudyard Kipling's "The Jungle Book", Oliver from "Oliver Twist/Oliver and Company", Sophie from Roald Dahl's "The BFG", and even Janell Cannon's "Stellaluna".

As for her Anthro Form, I do have plans to develop what's more than just her Origin Story (especially with the Space Goofs) as I'll probably make develop more of My Own Third Fandom AU after my Second and First Ones.

Let's just say that after the Potion that she drank which gave her a Voice, she sooner or later becomes an Anthro throughout her Growth as she's the Town's "First Feral Animal to become Anthro".

Before anyone also dares to ask, considering that Me and @luci-the-stan-18 are sharing her for the sake of this Collaboration. Then Yes, Brady (Luci's OC) is her own Love Interest.

We're still keeping our OCXOC Couple idea but as soon as my Friend will make her own version of Star someday, she'll only use that personal version of hers in her own X-Over Multiverse AU, so we still ship Brady with Star (no matter what version) as this whole "Starverse" thing is our little Spiderverse thing.

Collaboration and Star (c) Me and @luci-the-stan-18

My Version of Star (Old OC) (c) Me

Space Goofs (c) Xilam

[mom-friendtm]

To anyone this post can reach:

Please Donate Blood

Blood donation is at an all time low, even counting the COVID-19 lockdowns.

All sorts of people need blood transfusions to stay alive, please consider donating!

Here is the Red Cross Donation Page!

If you don’t feel comfortable donating blood with the Red Cross, here’s a page to find a blood drive near you!

Common concerns:

The Red Cross sells the donated blood!

Most organizations sell the donated blood to hospitals for $150-$250 (USD). They charge so they can recoup some of the cost of the blood donation process. Every donation incurs a lot of cost: supplies to take the blood, testing the blood for diseases, transporting it in specialized vehicles, and paying all the people along the way (phlebotomist, lab tech, truck driver, etc). Monetary donations alone to a nonprofit organization do not cover the costs of blood donation.

Donation centers have outdated conceptions about who can donate! (ex: gay men)

The Red Cross has gotten with the times and updated their screening questions. Screening questions no longer ask about your sexuality, but more ask about your exposure to certain diseases. Ex: Have you ever been treated for HIV or take medication in the past (x time) to prevent an HIV infection? Have you been out of the US/Canada in the past 3 years? Have you ever had a brain covering graft?

I don’t know if I am physically eligible!

The Red Cross’ donation criteria is 110 lbs and 17 years old, 16 in certain US states with parental consent. They check your blood pressure, temperature, and iron levels before you donate, and you must be in generally good health (ex: don’t have the flu).

Why don’t they pay me?

They don’t pay donors is because they are more likely to lie about disqualifying factors about their blood to guarantee they get the payment from their donation. That really eats into the cost of operating and is dangerous for the person receiving the blood if it is not something that can be easily found via the standard panel of testing.

Why can’t I donate directly to a hospital instead of a business?

Having dedicated staff, lab space, and square footage for in house blood donations is expensive and U.S. hospitals are cheap. Staff is expensive, hospital labs often don’t have enough equipment to handle the volume of tests required and it would slow down results for patients, and hospitals would prefer to have a wing dedicated to orthopedics rather than blood donation. There’s no definitive answer online but this is what I could figure out.

Links in not in hyperlink under the cut

[renlyslittlerose]

So I'm like, 20 hours(?) into BG3 and so far these are my thoughts:

I don't like all the companions, but I'm still reserving judgment until we proceed a little further. Some feel like the writers played DA and ME, liked certain archetypes, and decided to try that with their characters without realizing why these characters worked so well in DA and ME.

In saying that, there are some characters I really like. Karlach is a breath of fresh air in the genre and a major stand-out for me (thus far). It's nice to have a character who has been through a lot of trauma but refuses to let it define them. She's happy to be out of the Blood War, she's happy to be adventuring, she's happy to have friends for the first time. She's just happy. And having her alongside Gale, and listening to them just enjoy the weather and fresh air, is such a pleasant experience.

I've decided to romance Shadowheart because I hear I can do side-romances while still dating her. I really wanna see if I can woo Mizora 👀

While I am playing a 'good' character (not killing the locals, trying not to be mean to people), I am making very practical - some might say slippery, tricky, unreliable - choices in order to further my goals. I won't step on the backs of people to meet my end goals, but if I gotta lie a little, or remove an eyeball out of my skull, or let a bunch of tadpoles wiggle around in my brain... well, who am I to say no to a little advantage?

In saying that, I welcome any and all bad outcomes because of my questionable choices l o l

I think the world is fun to explore, but it's reminding me a little of a watered down version of Witcher 3 in terms of things to explore, monsters to encounter, and the overall vibes. Still having fun, but there are some parts of the map where I think they could have done a little more to truly make it immersive (like the swamp - I mean, the tea house...)

Speaking of the Witcher - I wish they would have an indicator of the level of enemies before you're locked in a fight. I liked how in the Witcher (and Cyberpunk), enemies that were severely over-leveled for you would have indicators that told you not to bother, come back later, don't waste your resources, etc. I've had a bunch of times where I've been locked in a fight and wasted a good chunk of time, only to realize that there is no way I can win this fight and I better just reload and come back later

I am eagerly looking forward to being reunited with my wife, Jaheira. ~I have crossed oceans of time to find you~

The mission to rescue those trapped in the burning building has to be one of the worst fucking designed pieces of modern gameplay I have ever had to sit through. The only reason I didn't lose my mind was because @the-nuup was guiding me through it over discord.

All in all, I am having fun! I've been playing a lot of older RPGs over the last few years (BG1 and 2, Planescape Torment, KotoR I and II), so it's nice to have that same flavour but with modern graphics, voice acting, etc. It's scratching an itch, for sure.

I am currently in the underdark collecting mushrooms and avoiding large open spaces 🍄

[dykemelon]

Oh god okay I’m psychotic

Journal entry copy and paste incoming

3 September 2024, 1:47am

Worst hell brain moment ever while awake and sober was a little before midnight, according to Minal. I was showering and watching a YouTube video about the backwards long jump. The question of whether the universe was discrete or continuous, prompted by the video talking about how a regular signal in “continuous” space could translate into different frame patterns in discrete space. Felt like I remembered/experienced being born. I remembered all the things I had been trying to remember, having been yelled at before for forgetting them. I remembered the first item in every sequence, including which sequence was first. (That memory is gone now.) I was immediately CERTAIN that tonight is The Bad Night, the night where all bad things happen and all pain lives. I was sure I was going to get yelled at, me and Minal were going to break up, I was going to throw up, and ultimately all of life would dissolve into a broken spiral of raw experience, and it would HURT. IT WOULD HURT MORE THAN ALL HURT EVER IN THE WORLD TIMES INFINITY. And I would be stuck trying to remember it when it passed and I was born into a new life and I could only cry from how hurt I was and how incapable I was of remembering. Every move I made after that was laden with hypervigilant analysis of my actions, thinking that the number of times I wavered before deciding to put my clothes back on before darting back to the bedroom (danger of roommate seeing me naked) was a sacred number and that I would assign names and moral weights (all bad of course) to each individual kind of waver or tic. Every little thing was the most important thing, and I believed fully that there had been/would be a time in my life where that thing was under extreme, world-swallowing debate. There seemed to be some sort of fundamental belief that, while not necessarily everything is good or bad, my experiences necessarily feel good or bad, and this feeling follows a pattern, an aperiodic repeating pattern that goes up and down and around and around in some inscrutable way which I occasionally have insight into, and this insight always triggers a panic attack. The thesis was “I saw god in the eyes of the physical, and god said ‘I am you, I have been you, you cannot comprehend how bad it’s going to get or how good it’s going to get, and moreover, the good thing is the bad thing.” Every stim I had seemed to have a name and a history, a history of being argued about and shamed over and actually being genuinely harmful even though it was soothing. Every white lie I told, every compromise I made to myself, was a sign of the fall from grace that would eventually boil over into the destruction of everything I held dear. I saw myself becoming not just an evil person, but every kind of evil person, from the swindlers to the genociders. Whatever is coming in the world is utterly inevitable, and free will is both an illusion and a prison but also the only way anything can move forward.

[arcaneoddity]

Writer Interview Game

Thanks again for the tag, @torterrachampion <3

When did you start writing?

I've pretty much been writing forever tbh. Started taking it more seriously when I was like... idk, 12ish? I still have a cringe ass German Sonic self-insert OC thing lying around on a hard drive somewhere I'm sure. Only started publishing my fanfic at age 15 or so, that's around the time I switched to writing in English too. I don't really do original stuff, my planning capabilities and attention span just aren't enough for that.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

When it comes to non-fanfic stuff I enjoy a good thriller and things involving murder investigations. Don't enjoy visual gore but can handle it well in written form, usually.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I dunno, I'm just kinda making shit up as I go lmao. There is one fic that I kinda see as The Pinnacle of everything I care about and want to portray in my writing, this absolute Break/Reim gem by calliope_love on dreamwidth. I'm not actively trying to emulate the author or anything, I just feel like this piece has shaped me in several ways and I need to lie tf down about it.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

That's either at my PC (that's where most of the proofreading/editing takes place at any rate), or... pretty much wherever I have my phone on me and inspiration strikes. Most chaotic place I've written fic at was sat on the grass somewhere in the very back of the crowd at a concert during a metal festival. I'll let that speak for itself.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

To be honest... I've stopped trying to force it. I used to beat myself up about not getting anything done, but that didn't work out and only made me feel more miserable. These days it can indeed take a good while for inspiration to strike, or I get five ideas at a time, but I'm feeling better about it this way. It's not like I'm writing for money or anything, so it doesn't really matter in the end.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I'm a big sucker for romance and characters finding trust and unconditional love in each other, especially in a hurt/comfort kind of context. It's all about that emotional catharsis. Also... I tend to write sex as a character study. That's the niche I've carved myself out and I'm comfy in here.

What is your reason for writing?

I enjoy exploring characters' motives behind their actions, their emotional state, their connect to those around them. Writing's also my idea of an outlet for myself, in a way, it helps to process certain themes through a different lens.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I'm told I'm pretty good at capturing nuanced emotions, especially the heavier and conflicted kind. This is backed up by my friends telling me I hurt their feelings, which I count as an achievement.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I'm pretty happy with where I am tbh. Ofc there's always room for improvement I guess, and not everything's gonna come out the way I want it to, but I don't explicitly strive to get anywhere in particular. I will say though... I do have my moments that have me going, I wrote that?? Damn. B)

Gently sliding this across the table to @morocosmos (no pressure whatsoever tho) and anyone else who wants to take a stab at it!

[barrenclan]

(floors it through the wall of your living room in my toyota corolla) HELLO i have another song rec. Nunemaker’s Parable by Everybody’s Worried About Owen as a potential rainhaze song perhaps?

[BIG Music Compliation Post]

MY WALL

"There was a wanderer who found his way to God Or maybe it was Lucifer under some false facade"

"Leave me the way all those other homes did But leave me a soul, only by definition I don't want to feel anything"

"With no conscience, I'll make money and I'll lie and cheat and steal And that money won't bring happiness But let me ask what does"

"So now I'm broken fundamentally And nobody gets why"

"She said "Mister, you look tired I will let you go, but first I think that what you're asking for It just might make things worse"

Incredibly fitting for him, as it happens.

I'm pretty sure this has been suggested before, but I like the song and it fits Hush Puppy very well.

"But me and my husband We're doing better It's always been just him and me Together"

"And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved"

I'm not certain this fits anyone in the comic, really... I can see where you're coming from but it's too confident for Cormorantpaw, and the lyrics about "making a woman out of me" really don't fit him. Still a cool song!

Oh yeah! You know it babey! Cormorantpaw is singing.

"So can I call you tonight? I'm trying to make up my mind Just how I feel Could you tell me what's real?"

"Don't go, don't go so easy Don't go, don't go and leave me"

I agree! I like Cormorantpaw wishing for a childhood he never had, and especially for someone to take care of him.

"Honestly I've had enough of looking at a dead man I just wanna scrape my knees Cry until my mommy sees"

"I just wanna be a kid But I don't wanna be a kid who was born like this"

Oh, I wonder where you got this song. *direct eye contact* Really, though, I think you're very right, and I always like a somewhat eerie old folk song.

"Round like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel"

"Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone Like a door that keeps revolving in a half forgotten dream"

"Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragment of a song Half remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?"

I'm making an executive decision and saying Rainhaze!

"its one v. one and heres the thing you may be better in a fight but I’ve got more to lose tonight"

"hit me where it hurts, the bruising will be worth the freedom I have earned from letting everything burn"

This is probably my favorite Hozier song, I just think it's so pretty. It's definitely super fitting, and sad, for Corm and Pinepaw.

"I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you"

"So I will not ask you Why you were creeping In some sad way I already know"

Ugh, heartbreaking. But a good call. Silent Hill music is so interesting to me.

"Really don't deserve it But now, there's nothing you can do So sleep in your only memory Of me, my dearest mother"

"Here's a lullaby to close your eyes, goodbye It was always you that I despised I don't feel enough for you to cry, oh well"

Yeah <3

"Am I allowed to look at him like that? Could it be wrong, when he's just so nice to look at?"

"No, I'd never say a word, and oh, it aches, but it feels oddly good to hurt"

[meraki24601]

Dawn Part 3

Part 3 as promised! This one is a little shorter than the last one.

Part 1, Part 2

-----------*-***-*-----------

Whumpee could feel their burns healing. A sweet, enticing smell rose from the warm object pressed tightly to their chest. The warmth was so different from the heat of the sun. This warmth was soft and comforting. All too familiar.

Careful hands wrapped around Whumpee, pulling them tighter against the body in their arms. “You’re safe now. Just drink.” Caretaker whispered in Whumpee’s ear. Their quiet groan echoed through the space around them.

“No.” Whumpee moaned, retracting their fangs from Caretaker’s neck, “I don’t want…”

“You need blood. You are too weak. I swore to save you, and this is the only way. Drink.” Caretaker pressed on Whumpee’s head so their mouth pressed against the open wound they left on Caretaker’s neck. 

Whumpee’s mind screamed as the pressure forced new blood from the wound and onto Whumpee’s tongue. Automatically, Their fangs extended, and they pierced Caretaker’s neck. With each mouthful of blood, new tears formed in their eyes. Never again. They were never supposed to drink the blood of a human again. 

“A question, if you will, Vampire. When the one who holds the bond of a vampire’s promise dies, is the vampire still bound to their word?” Caretaker’s breath heaved against Whumpee as their tears joined Whumpee’s. This time, as Whumpee pulled away, they weren’t strong enough to stop them.

“Why?” Whumpee asked, “Why would you trade your life for mine? A human life for that of a vampire?”

Caretaker fell forward, nearly limp in Whumpee’s arms. “I am the youngest and weakest of my kin. I cannot tend to the farm, nor can I hunt the beasts which threaten us. Should the only way to guarantee my family’s safety be by my death, I will die happily. So, please, Vampire, I have answered your question. Will you not answer mine?”

“No. A vampire is no longer bound to their word should the one who holds the bond die.” 

“I see. Then, once again, I am left with no choice but to trust you, vampire.”

“Whumpee. If you would, please call me Whumpee.” 

“Very well. Drink, Whumpee. You will need your strength if you are to defeat a herd of wild boar. All I ask is you hold me until I am gone so I am not alone and stay true to your word even after the bond is broken.”

Whumpee smiled, small and sad, “Rest easy, Caretaker. You will not die by my hand. You have fulfilled your part of our bargain. I have been saved and healed more than enough to defeat the beasts threatening your kin. Sleep. Recover your strength. I shall watch over you until the night comes, and I can return you to your home.”

Caretaker’s eyes blew wide. Their hands shook as they gripped Whumpee’s shirt, “Please, take my blood. The beasts are large and strong, and their hide is tough. My life is a low price to pay if it means the promise of a future for my kin. I would much rather guarantee my death than risk the lives of others.”

"A vampire is bound to their word. I swore to you I would slay the herd before the next morning dawns. Do you doubt my loyalty to our promise? If I were not certain I could destroy the beasts, I would not say I could.” Whumpee supported the back of Caretaker’s head as they shifted them to lie on the cave floor. “Furthermore, I have made you not only one promise but two. I swore to leave you and your kin unharmed so long as they do not lay a hand on me. Now I am healed and conscious of my actions, were I to bite you, it would be against my word. So, rest. You will not die by my hand. You will live to see our bargain fulfilled and your family survive the winter.”

New tears slid down Caretaker’s face as they lifted their hand to staunch the gentle flow of blood from the wounds in their neck. Their hand was covered in dirt and grime, making Whumpee grimace at the risk of infection. With movements slow enough for Caretaker to stop them, Whumpee removed Caretaker’s hand and pressed their lips to the cuts. They were once again reminded of the sweetness of Caretaker’s clean, fresh blood as they laved their tongue over the wounds, allowing their saliva to seal them.

“Amazing,” Caretaker whispered as they ran their fingers over the quickly developing scabs.

A low growl deep in the cave startled both the human and vampire. Caretaker’s arms shook as they lifted themselves up to gaze past Whumpee and at the four giant wild boars approaching from within the cave. 

Without hesitation, Whumpee pressed Caretaker back to the floor of the cave. “It seems you will not have to wait until nightfall for the end of the beasts. Fear not, I shall protect you.” They stood to face the boars as their numbers increased as much as the cave walls would allow. A full herd, each tall as a man and strong as a pack of werewolves. It’s a good thing vampires are made to defeat werewolves.

[cosmoknightchaos]

Hehe>:3 1, 2, 6, and 8. (Do whatever character you’d like:3)

Oh boy! Any character I want! I'm going to do all of them.

There are 35 different characters listed below. I'm not kidding when I say the response is long.

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

The following OCs are from a project I've dubbed Project Scepsis OS, a futuristic dystopian featuring a failed science experiment, an amorphous blob, a shapeshifter who eats organs like jelly beans, and a depressed 40-year-old man.

Paisley, despite being trapped in a laboratory for most of their life, isn't that bothered by it. If anything, they'd just prefer to go through and get rid of a whole bunch of memories, to clear up space. It's like clearing photos from your storage. Also, they're definitely the type of person to stay up at night thinking about that one embarrassing moment from years ago, so they'd trash all of those.

Marci, on the other hand, desperately wants to forget most of its time in the lab. Especially before it met Paisley. All of that was hell for it and it wants to forget that.

Kat is a very "Sparkle off, it's Thursday, forget who you are" type of person. She doesn't want to remember a single thing and be consumed by the personality of whomever she eats. Life has not been kind to her after the war :(

Vincent would most likely want to forget his son's death. It would be so much easier to bury himself in his work if he didn't have the weight of his son's death looming over him, even if that is what caused him to become a workaholic in the first place. Either that or erase all memory and involvement in the Scepsis model, though unfortunately his name has gone down in history with that one and he will never escape it.

What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

^This is Kat! She is a wanted war criminal across multiple planets for murder, cannibalism, and impersonation.

How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

Dill do you have any idea who you're talking to. I am the MASTER of the moral compass and how characters feel about it. I could write a full essay on a singular character's morals.

Moral compasses exist on a pentagram for me, with each angle being an extreme and every character existing on an extreme or somewhere in the middle. Congrats, you get all five extremes.

On the first point of the pentagon, the unbreakable and completely fucked compass. Myo, The Queen, and Flower, who may be so wrong in their actions but their compass has long been broken. The philosophy here is You cannot betray your moral compass if you don't have a compass to begin with. They're either too insane to have morals or whatever the fuck Queen is.

Second, our stubborn characters! Probably the biggest category of the extremes. Edge, Sky, Penelope, and Cosmo. While having a variety of personalities and motives, they all have very strict moral compasses. Not really strict in an uptight way, but they know where their loyalties lie and are so comfortable with that spot that it's gonna be ridiculously hard to break that. It doesn't matter if it's good or bad. It's just comfortable. However, with enough force, it can be broken- but that does require a lot of force.

On the next joint, characters like Altalune, Marion, or Anne, who's compasses are thrown to the wind every other Tuesday. High and mighty as they may think they are, both are giant hypocrites and will betray their moral compass the moment it becomes an inconvenience to their motives. There's also characters like Echo or Marc, who crumple like paper once put under the slightest pressure. They wouldn't betray their morals by themselves, but they fold like laundry when another person gives them orders.

Second to last are the traumatized folk. Gospel is probably the only real extreme of this group, but Kaizo is a very close second. This is for characters who have a strict moral compass at first, but after a certain event(s), their compass shatters and they have to go buy a new one. More often than not, that first set of morals isn't as healthy for them, and the new set helps them improve as people, but that doesn't mean it isn't earth-shatteringly traumatic and destroys everything they ever had faith in in the process.

Finally, the sporadic. Entropy! Tranquility by extent and pretty much all of my Higher Being/God/Godlike/God complex characters count too, but Entropy is the definitive extreme. The moral compass here functions like Captain Jack Sparrow's, simply pointing whatever way the character wants it to. It is fueled impulse, desire, and the Godlike arrogance and detachment from mortal life. There are no moralities, only fun and chaos.

Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

Let's just go down the list, shall we? OCs are categorized by source material!

Beyond the Graves (OC) Marci/Marc: Normally, no, possessed than yes. And does canonically. Echo: Same as above! AJ: More likely to commit murder than the other two, but doesn't. Cosmo: Probably did? Doesn't seem like it. Queen: Definitely. Easily. Canonically. For funsies

Ivy (OC) Jenny: Nope! She would only kill someone if she had to, and she would not get away with it! Morgan: Same as above, only she's slightly more willing to commit murder Myo: Without hesitation

Project Scepsis OS (OC) Paisley: Although they do commit it, they wouldn't get away with it very well. Marci: If it would happen, it would be accidentally. It would latch on to a living organism and accidentally tear their mortal form apart. It would never do it intentionally. Kat: She eats people's organs for fun Vincent: Definitely not. Even if he is responsible for the war machine that killed hundreds if not thousands. Creator: Said war machine mentioned above

Where Time Stands Still//Stopwatch (OC) Penelope: Absolutely not. Baby girl Altalune: Definitely. And if he doesn't get away with it, then he'll kill whoever witnessed it. Tristen Kannaroe: Little bitch man. Unfortunately he has not committed murder but he would not get away with it, he would get caught, and he would get what he fucking deserves. Entropy: Do you know who we're even talking about. This is the fucking God of Chaos Tranquility: Ironically, for being the God of Death, they have never taken a life. However they would very easily get away with it if they needed to. Eternity/Stopwatch: They wouldn't do it, but they'd get away with it if they did. I think gods in general have a good track record of getting away with murder

The Religious Trauma Squad (Hollow Knight) Gospel: She wouldn't commit murder, but if she did she wouldn't leave a single trace. Eviscerated by lightning bitch Edge: Oh yeah. Absolutely. Gospel would know in a heartbeat. Marion: He put his days of murder behind him after he left the troupe! He's reformed now! (<-Nearly fought Edge to the death if Gospel hadn't stopped him)

The Horalo AU/Where Time Stands Still (A Hat In Time) Skyscreamer: Commits murder canonically and does NOT get away with it. Thanks Entropy Flower Man: Have you read the book Entropy: They are still the Deity of Chaos Kannaroe: Doesn't and don't get away with it

The Wanderer AU (A Hat In Time) Ester: Yes! The Gravedigger: Uh... does it count as murder if they're ghosts? Cathrine: Nope! Wouldn't hurt a fly <3 Adrianne: Would and get his ass caught. Idiot Tranquility: Still a pacifist!

My other AHIT OCs Anya: Nope! They'd whack you with a large branch, but that's about it. Kaizo: He would eat your insides like a muffin for breakfast.

That's as many as I can remember. Feel free to ask about any of these I guess.

[addcests]

a family is you, and you, and :: ch2 - ao3 mirror

pairing the addcest is there if you believe

words 2133

rating [T]

summary "Hey, Dominator, where's Psyker?" It's an innocent question, at first. And then it rings, rings, rings through Dominator's mind constantly, like an incessant nagging that he doesn't want to quite acknowledge presently. Not yet. So he doesn't. "He's out." It's not a complete lie, anyway. --- If you'd ask each Add what family meant, they'd have similarly different answers. A contradiction in and of itself—a testament to the very conception of their existence. Yet, there lies one thing wholly similar; a conviction all three share: they'd fight for their family. And now they must.

note chapter 3 is almost done as well!

“You know, if you’re lonely, I could always invite you back.” When there is no response, he presses, "back home."

There was so, so, so much Dominator could say in lieu of a pretty little offer like that.

“And leave behind my work?”

It's not really an answer, but Dominator loves flitting around topics like this with his new daily visitor.

Regardless, Esper smiles at that, paces his way over to Dominator and kneels into his lap rather abruptly. Unlike a certain younger, inexperienced researcher, Dominator, seeming to expect it, allows the motion without nary a fuss or blush and Esper’s grin grows all the more wider for it. “Aww, no fun,” comes his pretend pout they both expect as well. “Why’s that? I think it would be pretty lively with an extra body.”

Dominator’s not sure if the portal hopper is making light conversation or if he’s seeking something more. Again, he tries not to let that train of thought settle for long. “You know, you shouldn’t even be here.”

“And you should know I’m not very good at doing as I’m told.” Esper chirps without missing a beat because Dominator knows he’s enjoying this way too much.

But Dominator isn’t upset in the slightest. Far from it, signaled by his bemused laugh softening the look on his face. “And I did always so love that about you,” Dominator says, smiles genuinely, gently carding his fingers through the length of Esper’s hair, nails scratching at the scalp. A little display of affection he couldn’t resist. He may have spoken of Psyker having a soft spot for the other but, as time passes, Mastermind—he—would come to grow one as well. “Well, I won’t deny you that. I also do so enjoy your company.” 

Esper’s like putty in his hands, melting into his touch, leans all his weight onto him, and exhales a pleased little noise. 

Dominator lets him, humming as he keeps one hand on the small of his back, fingers dancing absentmindedly along his thin frame while his other hand dances across his keyboard, his attention split between the two. For the moment, he relishes in the silence he’s managed to secure. Even if it’s brief.

“Mmm, where’s the cat cube?”

“Apocalypse,” Dominator corrects, not missing a beat, “is offline. Standby. I have him holding data for me.” 

Esper falls silent once more. Dominator’s not sure if it’s because he’s lazing into his touch

or that nefarious but brilliant mind of his is plotting something. 

“Do you miss him?” Dominator asks, filling the silence. He also doesn’t let Esper answer, and continues, “I may not be a Mastermind anymore, but that simply means I am more than one step ahead, my dear. I know you’ve used him for records. And no, I will not let you see the ones you’ve made.” 

The time traveler finally peels himself off of Dominator (the scientist notes, regretfully) and he peers down at the other. “No? I can’t convince you?” Dominator recognizes that playful quip in his voice. “No way to change your mind?” And Esper leans in closer, the space between the two now long gone. 

Again, Dominator doesn’t miss a beat either, used to their little game now; the hand at Esper’s back still nudges him closer, and he smiles up at him. “Not at all,” he replies back just as easily. “I’m used to your little tricks, Esper. That may have gotten a rise out of me before, but it’s different now.” 

Esper pouts, head tilting as he regards the scientist before him, a glaring juxtaposition of how he he's completely ignoring the compromising position he put them in. “Is it really so different now?” 

Dominator doesn't stop his laugh, leans over to place a chaste little kiss on the corner of his mouth to satisfy the time hopper. 

He hasn't the faintest idea.

“Are you going to tell me to go home now?”

This time when Dominator laughs it’s for a different reason, chuckling. As his eyes narrow with mischief, he smiles brightly at Esper. “I was under the impression that a certain someone doesn’t listen very well.”

“That’s right!” Esper sings songs, his face beaming with a mirthful cheeriness upon hearing Dominator’s answer, and makes himself even comfier in Dominator’s lap. 

Dominator doesn’t mind the company, and so he finds himself working with Esper cuddling close. He finds it adorable, really. Especially when he turns his full attention back to Esper and finds that he actually dozed off, smiling to hear the light exhales that signal a deep sleep. A rare luxury for him. There’s no way he was going to send him along his way like this, so Dominator lets him rest as he is.

Before the scientist knows it, time escapes them both and Dominator can feel his legs turn to jelly from supporting the other’s nearly dead weight. Esper started pretty upright in his lap and arms but now he’s completely sprawled along him, limbs every which way. Not much unlike that of a cat. He smiles down at the still-dozing Esper, ruffles his hair affectionately, and scoops him into his arms. 

He saves his work and shuts it down, locking it. Back turned, he proceeds to the ever-familiar corridor he’s growing acquainted with lately and makes for his bedroom. If Esper wants to doze so much then at the very least he could do so in a proper bed. Another luxury. 

Dominator doesn’t bother stripping down and joins Esper for a little cat nap.

He suspects the other will be gone long before he can wake anyway, which he doesn’t mind. It’s the last thought he has as his eyelids grow heavy and he lets Esper curl into him more.

When he does wake, it’s as he thought. Esper is long gone, the spot on the bed that held his weight is still there but barely evident. He sits up and rubs at his teary eyes from sleep, looks around, and his eyes lock on the digital clock displaying the time. He also sees the framed photo he recalls from the other day or so. 

Upright this time.

Certainly not of his doing. 

===== → loading … :\\ destination found: 100% =====

“Feeling lonely?”

“No,” comes Mastermind’s curt reply as he walks away from Psyker who has decided to flop all against the couch, occupying all the space. So much for sitting there too. If he is going to be so rude, Mastermind could simply find somewhere else to be. Without sparing the taunting brawler anymore thought, the scientist makes his way to his lab, mug of coffee in hand, thoughts aimlessly wandering. 

He steps into the entryway to the lab, looks around and notices a familiar glint out of the corner of his eyes, and smiles down at a few pictures Psyker had set up some many months ago.

“You stay in there so long, you’ll forget us. So here’s some pictures.”

Obviously, the brawler was always being a little shit, joking as loves to do, but it was a nice sentiment. He appreciates it more than he can put into words. (More than he can ever tell him.) 

His eyes then fall to the singular frames that held solo shots. (Vaguely, he couldn’t help but wonder when those shots were taken.) He walks by the table, fingertips brushing along the edges as he takes step after step. Shortly after, he comes to a halt before a familiar frame. It was a shot he tried so hard to veto but it was an unfair matchup of two against one from the start. The photo of the three was Psyker's idea. And Esper was in on it. So, of course, Psyker would include this one. No thanks to help from Esper. 

“Mastermind!” comes the time distorted voice.

And speaking of his favorite time traveler.

As always, he hears Esper before he sees him. Frantically, he nearly drops his mug trying to place it aside, knowing that Esper would be landing in his arms in three, two—the impact of catching his lithe frame still jostles Mastermind around, never fully prepared to catch Esper. “Why can’t you just come through your portals normally!?” He hisses. 

“I have absolutely no clue what you mean.”

“Esper,” the scientist starts again, his tone warning as he turns his head the other way to avoid the affectionate nuzzle from the other. 

“You’re no fun! Unlike a certain someone else,” comes Esper’s light pout. Most likely fake, Mastermind assumes.

He wonders why he’s bringing up Psyker though, because he could as easily blink in and out to him just a room away. “Well, if you want the certain someone else, you’ve missed him by some coordinates. He’s hogging the couch. And—will you cut it out! That t-tickles…!” He doesn’t mean to let his voice stutter with colorful laughter, but when Esper noses at his neck like that, nuzzling into him, it’s not ticklish. It’s embarrassing. But hell if he’ll let Esper know that, or that he likes it so much. “Psyker’s in the other room I said already… !”

Their struggle proves too much for him, so he helps Esper to steady his feet, giving the other no choice but to stand. 

He frowns at this new arrangement and Mastermind’s answer, then replies, “I’m not talking about Psyker.”

And as usual, what is a conversation with the great Diabolic Esper now and then if he wasn’t left a little puzzled afterwards? Despite this, he isn’t here to decode whatever was running through his counterpart’s scheming mind, so instead, he asks, “Where were you this time?” He watches as Esper walks around him, strolling past the entry point of his lab like it’s his. (Though, technically it was at times. The way he uses his things without his asking and Mastermind simply coming to accept this fact.) 

“Out,” he drawls, eyes darting around before he hops into a portal, and appears on the far opposite side of the lab. “Where’s little Apoca?” And then blinks back into a distance near him, being courteous enough to not force Mastermind to strain to hear him or shout his reply.

“Somewhere around here. Why?” When he’s finally within earshot distance with Esper once more, he places a hand on his hip and raises an eyebrow at him, “I know it’s you stealing him and not Psyker. Which, by the way, he did not appreciate you using him as a scapegoat.”

As he paces around the lab, checking over his scattered devices and parts, Esper finds said cat cube nestled among Mastermind’s things as if it were a bed. He sets Apocalypse upright, and boops him. “Why not? If you can do it, can't I? Since you blame him for everything else don’t you?”

“That’s—!” Not true. He wants to say, but the words fail to leave his lips. And even if Esper is only teasing, Mastermind still clamps his mouth shut and averts his gaze. This time, he folds his arms to his chest before speaking again, deflecting as he does, “What do you need Apocalypse for today, Esper?” 

The little cube then boots up from sleep mode. The cube’s cat face lighting up and its ears twitching as its system and configurations load. As soon as it recognizes both creator and partner, Apocalypse snuggles into Esper’s hold, nuzzling his palm demandingly.

“You have spoiled him rotten,” Mastermind chides, voice nagging. But despite saying so, he bites back a smile as he walks over to the two, patting Apocalypse fondly. 

“Don’t worry, Mastermind, I’ll bring him back soon. He makes a great napping partner.” Esper turns his owlish stare towards the scientist. “Or, will you join me instead?” However, the devilish smile that forms on his lips after indicates a very false innocence that Mastermind could clearly see through.

Mastermind does not stutter as he exclaims his name. “E-Esper!” He definitely doesn’t blush afterwards either!

Esper's cackles echo through the lab as he watches Mastermind try to hide his red cheeks. His lips curl into a satisfied smile as he whirls around with Apocalypse bundled in one arm and his free hand waving over his shoulder. They both knew the exclamation of his name was answer enough.

As it is, Mastermind hardly gets much more of a say, only left with the choice to watch as Esper blinks out of sight with Apocalypse in tow, its synthetic meows the only thing left echoing in the spacious room of the now empty lab. It’s not as if he had plans to truly stop Esper, chaotic little thing that he is. Still, he sighs softly, though there isn’t a trace of annoyance to be found. 

Smiling to himself, he speaks to the long-gone Esper, “Though, perhaps I was the one that spoiled you rotten.”

[bitch-butter]

Fic Writer Ask: 3, 8, 18, 30 :) have a good day

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

i read a Yu-Gi-Oh fanfic when i was like 12 or 13 that permanently altered my brain chemistry, i started writing miniature fics because i was so inspired and truly never stopped. i still go back and read it sometimes, it holds up (to me) lol.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

not often enough tbh just because it takes me so long to read things between work and relationship and writing my own shit, so that by the time i finish something i just move on and internalize it and forget that i actually should be like Externalizing the fact that i liked something. resolution for 2024 is to Do Better lol

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

i will Always finish something, it just might take me 20 years to do it lol

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

“It would make you feel bad to go down to my car with me,” Joe said, teasing out David’s intention skillfully, better than he had any right to.

“If I thought we’d just snort shit I would feel less bad,” David said, voice dipping down, the same way his eyes continued to dip down and check on the other man’s lips, pulled in by them the same way his mind was pulled in by the promise of trouble. “But I know that’s not all that would happen.” 

An indescribably pleased expression crossed the other man’s face, his smirk becoming a genuine, nonplussed smile. “You think you’re really hot shit,” he observed, sounding like the idea was both hilarious and - miracle of miracles - arousing. 

It made David feel strong, sure of his worth in the way male attention often made him, and he nodded back to the other man’s amusement. “I know that I am.” 

Joe was caught off guard by his brazenness, but the only tell he gave for certain was the way he turned his head just so, just slightly enough that the blade of his cheek was presented in place of his mouth. Refusing to balk, David tilted his face into the space between, eyes unwavering as they held the challenge in their depths, and Joe appeared caught, helplessly interested, gazing back at him with something dark, intriguing in the most ordinary of ways like a double-cherry.

If one of them made a wrong move, even just the barest shift of weight, their mouths would be on each other. 

[hellfireconfessions]

Don't have much dirt on anyone but Melodic and am well aware that our little argument was too short and brief for it to be considered as bad as any other post on them (and it was technically a misunderstanding). But oh well, might as well add more reasons for people to despise them. I was with a utah pack at Wash (hunting a fresh-adult sucho) when we lost a hunt (I was laggy so I avoided going in for bites, simply distracting the sucho every now and then). Most of my pack were bleeding and hiding in some bushes on the other side of the lake while I was hunting ai when it eventually turned night. Not long after turning night, a rex starts stomping over toward my pack, sat down, noticed them, then had the audacity to begin throwing a fit via 3 calls. I was one of the only ones not bleeding so I had the pleasure of running all the way to them to become a meat-shield as I started 3 calling back at the bitch, hoping to get my head chomped off so that the admins would have further incentive to slay their rex had it turned into a report. Melodic began yelling at us in gen-chat to get out of their personal space, acting as if my pack had snuck up behind them just to sit right beneath their ass. I then got super pissed and started telling them off (told them to look at the recording if they really believed an entire pack of utahs just decided to lie down behind a rex for no damn reason) 'cause my pack would bleed out the second they stood + we never got in their space, they got in ours. And holy shit did they shut tf up after that. 100% my best Hellfire memory. But still a vague one; don't trust everything you read on here 'cause although someone may believe they're speaking the truth, some details could've been misremembered. I'm not admitting to this whole story being made up or anything, just admitting that this was a year ago and my memory is definitely lacking since I don't even remember if we fought a sucho or an allo, and definitely don't remember exactly what I said during our short argument. And dealing with a certain utah pack (either Sustrai or some other pissy pack) was a shit experience as no matter how many reports we filed about their targeting our pack or eating all the bodies whenever we fought, the admins just couldn't stop picking favorites. All I know is Bunniache was in whatever pack it was. I only remember their name since they ran across the map to join a hunt that had been initiated about 5mins prior, and the report I filed against them was ignored for months before being dismissed lol I was generally nice to everyone I came across in Hellfire ('cause I'm shit at arguing so I tend to avoid it and I at least have the decency to respect those who haven't yet given me a reason not to) and I met many people who deserved much more than the actual mountain of bullshit that was Hellfire. Though I was forced into this server by my friends, I genuinely had fun during my stay simply because of the kind people I met along the way. But aside from that, fuck Hellfire and fuck its blatantly biased staff (minus minties, most of them didn't know what they had gotten themselves into). For the ones who were actually fun to play with, thank you for being the few who made Hellfire worth the wasted hours.

.

[psychic-refugee]

This has some references to Ch. 10, so go read before you read this!

I have such a hatred for Kinbott. I really felt like she gave no consideration for her Outcast patient’s unique needs.

I especially did not like her seeing Xavier in the privacy of her own car. That is such an ethics issue! She has to be getting paid a premium to treat him in secret (this is all on top that there is doctor-patient confidentiality already), otherwise no real therapist would risk any hint of impropriety with a patient. AN UNDERAGE patient.

I really hope they expand more on Xavier’s attack because I do feel like it’s much worse than the show was able to cover.

Especially since Tyler can be quoted as saying “He could have made it more difficult for me…” that to me says that Xavier could have sued or arrested if he pressed charges. This wasn’t some school yard fight, it was a legit attack that could have had real consequences. Tyler also implies that he has court ordered sessions with Kinbott as well.

My headcanon/theory is there is a 3-prong gaslighting attack on Xavier. His dad doesn’t want to deal with the bad press/aftereffects on his son’s mental health, so he works with Weems and Kinbott to “manage” Xavier.

Weems doesn’t want to anger the Normies because two of the attackers are sons of powerful men in town, the Mayor and the Sheriff. Both could make Outcasts lives much harder if provoked. I think Galpin would take the first convenient excuse to go hard on Nevermore. We continually see how Weems bends over backwards to placate Normies and ignores when they harm her students. Part of me kind of understands if Outcasts have been historically oppressed. She knows just how dangerous having Normie enemies are, perhaps she thinks she has to sacrifice one or two students for the safety of the majority. I don’t like it, but I could understand it.

We also know she’s aware that the “bear” attacks are probably done by an Outcast, possibly one of her students. She goes out of her way to also gaslight Wednesday to cover up the murder. We don’t know what she’s doing to figure out what the monster is or how to stop it, but she does want to protect the school by fervently denying it could be an Outcast.

Weem’s motivation and priority has always been to protect the school.

I am also of the belief that most things boil down to money. I don’t really see another motivation, other than pure incompetence, for Kinbott to dismiss Wednesday’s testimony right off the bat. Like, Outcasts are known and open to the world as having powers.

Wednesday doesn’t have a history of attention seeking, only of trying to run away and some legit sociopathic tendencies.

Both of these together make me think it’s weird that Kinbott would just dismiss the idea of a monster and that Rowan was dead. A good therapist would not have just right off the bat called her a liar. If she really thought Wednesday was lying, I think she would have asked questions about the situation to point out holes in her story and then led her to admit on her own either her mind was playing tricks on her or to catch her in a lie.

The fact that Kinbott didn’t even entertain that Wednesday could be telling the truth, makes me question her motives.

This to me opens the possibility of a conspiracy between Weems and Kinbott to keep Outcasts under control, with Kinbott more or less grooming these kids to think that certain things are just in their head. Kinbott is used to calm and gaslight the “troubled” Outcasts in return for seeing them at a premium.

Another reason I think it’s a conspiracy is that they waste so much time sending Outcast kids to Kinbott, we’re talking wasting almost an hour round trip per session. This is on top of the hour long session for students. That’s a lot of time to dedicate to non-school related issues. I would have thought that the school would find it more cost and time effective to simply hire an in-house therapist or have Kinbott come to them and give her space to treat the students at Nevermore. It’d be much more efficient to schedule Kinbott at Nevermore on certain days and she sees the students throughout. Then does days in town for her Normie patients.

The maths ain’t mathing, as they say.

I used her “whimsy-dermy” hobby (the whimsical taxidermy dioramas she creates for Uriah’s Heap) as a front to launder money. I presume that she doesn’t want to leave a trail of her charging Outcasts more, or at all in some cases, so she has to explain where the money came from to the IRS if she wants to use it.

I think the whimsy-dermy was supposed to show that she was “weird and quirky” in her own way and not so different than Outcasts. But I like a tax fraud scheme better.

I think the OAA is rather ingenious from a legal standpoint. lol I think in a world that is aware of Outcasts, then there is legislation to protect and accommodate them, if they have any kind of equal standing in the States.

I also like showcasing the different revenge methods of the twins. Wednesday is very about physical pain. Sending mousetraps, releasing carnivorous fish. Freya is about sending you to paperwork and litigation hell. Kinbott could very easily see her next decade fighting in the legal system (including appeals), jail time, and six figures of attorney fees.

As someone who has dealt with attorney fees and how slow the government works, I’d rather try my luck with fighting piranhas. 

[loveofcharacters-a]

In the spirit of a new year. Here's a personal reflection.

Mutuals/Followers: I'd love your input from the last paragraph.

I had a bit of an anxiety attack last week regarding my habits and relationship with roleplaying and its community and I've been doing a lot of reflecting since.

When I left Tumblr 3 years ago, it became really clear just how much time I spent on Tumblr over the last decade. Every weeknight I would be online for hours, every weekend I would spend the entire day on this site. Most of the time, I was simply waiting for a reply because I thought that if I replied within a minute, I would be able get more play time in that ship. It was the Golf game of online platforms. Waiting and watching everyone write, then only having a minute's worth of play time when a reply eventually did come my way. (I won't lie. I love and am proud of this comparison.)

Stepping away from the platform entirely gave me a sense of clarity. There were moments I literally said to myself, "Wow, if this were last month, I would be missing this cause I'd be at home on Tumblr." There was something uplifting about all the time I had for myself, I felt lighter and happier being away from Tumblr despite missing the relationships and stories I had created. I noticed near the end of 2022 that I had started to slip back into that decade long unhealthy routine.

I was caring far too much about certain things and had expressed really strong opinions about certain things that I've honestly realized, I really don't care about anymore. I love writing and want to continue. I also want Tumblr to be my safe space. The place I can feel so excited to express my creativity. What I don't want, is to reflect a year from now and see that Tumblr accumulated 60% of my life.

In light of the new year, and eventual new blog. I'm setting goals. First and foremost, I utterly love the thought of just slowing down in general. Just a week ago, I was so against using the queue and so against the thought of someone asking me to slow my own reply speed. Uh HELLO. Lane? Remember that unhealthy obsession with Tumblr? Yeah... That's why you brussel sprout.

So, as I wait for Tumblr to give my new blog Java access, I'm exploring new ways I can make Tumblr FUN for not only me, but those I write with. I've decided to come up with a small intake form. This will have important information about me, and information I want to know about my roleplaying partners while giving my partners the opportunity to express boundaries/triggers I should know about . I feel really good about this plan and while I navigate my own questions for this intake form I want to know this: What question do you wish more people asked you before you started writing together?

[ppersonna]

my only wish - knj | m

“ santa can you hear me? i have been so good this year. and all i want is one thing. please tell me my true love is here ” - my only wish (this year), britney spears

✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim namjoon x reader

✹ word count- 15.1k OOF

✹ genre- smut, fluff, tiny tiny angst if you squint, enemies to lovers, fake dating au, idiots to lovers, brief mention of YoonMin

✹ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex (dont do it), daddy kink lolol, namjoon has a big dick, oral sex (m/f receiving), cum swallowing, light cum play, dirty talk, light degradation (very light tbh), praise kink, lots of mentions of joon being a beefy boy, masturbation,

✹ a/n- its here!! finally! my contribution to rockin around the christmas tropes. big big big shout out to @ladyartemesia​ @xjoonchildx​ @untaemedqueen​ @underthejoon​ @yeojaa​ @snackhobi​ for being my co collaborators. and a warm shout out to @wwilloww​ and @hobi-gif​ for being some very lovely betas. thank you thank you! i hope you enjoy!

There are few things you hate most in this world. 

 Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange…

 But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things: 

 Christmas. 

 And Kim Namjoon. 

Christmas, in your opinion, is nothing more than a consumerist holiday, anchored on ensuring you’re guilted enough from November 1st to the 25th of December to spend your hard earned money on shit your friends and loved ones won’t even use. It’s a time for people to pretend they love giving and caring, while shoving you out of lines in stores, buying up all the groceries as if it’s the end times, and forcing party after mindless party for “celebration” that ends in seeing your boss drunk and pants-less by the punchbowl. 

 And don’t even start on Kim Namjoon. 

 On paper, he’s your colleague, to put the terms friendly. In reality, he’s your opponent, your adversary. He’s annoying, rude, stuck up, and not to mention a douchebag heartbreaker. He’s everything you hate wrapped in one disgustingly handsome face. 

 The man never misses a chance to steal a case from underneath your nose, rub the praise he receives from your bosses in your face, and look ridiculously delectable in his tight suits that he insists he wears around the office. He absolutely infuriates you. 

 And now, as you sit in the company-wide meeting, your heart sinks as you realize the worst thing about Namjoon—he’s about to get the promotion you’ve been vying for your entire career.

 That position was as good as yours—at least, you had thought.

 That was until lead counsel, Seokjin, stands in front of all the attorneys present and calls out Namjoon’s name, commending him on winning his latest case—the case that you had done the bulk of the work for. Seokjin even tells the rest of the lawyers in the room that Namjoon is “someone to watch” with a glint of pride in his eyes. 

 The smug smile Namjoon sends in your direction as he teasingly nibbles on a pen with his sultry mouth is enough to make you want to tear his eyes out and use them as olives in the martini you sorely needed.

 Namjoon smirks as he walks past you once the meeting ends.

 “Make sure you watch me, baby,” he whispers into your ear. 

 His hand rests on your lower back and you hate how much he aggravates you, and hate even more so that he frustrates you sexually as much as he does intellectually.

 Unfortunately, your body can’t keep up with your mind’s distaste for the elder lawyer. His presence around you makes your blood vessels tighten and your head feel light—nipples prickling against your bra when he winks at you.

 “Asshole,” you whisper under your breath as you pack up your notebook.

 “Oh, ___!” Seokjin calls out just as you’re about to leave the all-glass meeting room.

 Your head suddenly screeches to a very frustrated, sexual halt when you turn to face the lead counsel of your company.

 “Yes, Mr. Kim?”

 “I’ve got a case for you.”

 The smile on his face makes you relax. Maybe he sees your potential. Maybe he’s testing you just as much as he’s testing Namjoon. Maybe you’ll be the “one to watch” and you can rub that right in Namjoon’s perfect, stunning face.

 A thick manila folder slides across the oak table towards you from Seokjin’s hands. The impressive volume of the dossier makes you giddy with anticipation.

 “I know you won’t let me down.”

 You nod, nibbling at your lips, before bowing to your superior and dashing out of the room as fast as your Louboutins can handle.

 It’s not until you sit at your desk, a cramped little cubicle next to Park Jimin, your best friend and paralegal assistant, that you open the folder.

 Your heart sinks as your eyes hurriedly rush over the title page.

 Personal Injury Suit.

 A dejected sigh leaves you as you throw the folder onto your desk and slouch back in your ergonomic office chair.

 “What’s up, pussycat?” Jimin smiles as he rolls his chair over to your side of the cubicle. “Namjoon got you worked up again?”

 You groan as you take off your reading glasses, setting them aside to rub at the burgeoning headache building at your temples. You had momentarily forgotten all about Namjoon in the hurried hope that you’d land a case of significance, something you could finally use to prove yourself.

 Instead, you gained yet another in-and-out, settle outside of court case. Likely some elderly geriatric suing a corporation for too-slippery floors.

 “Another fucking personal injury suit,” you whine as you thrust the folder into the lithe paralegal’s hands.

 He looks over the documents and sucks his teeth.

 “Man, Seokjin really has it out for you.”

 You level a look at your best friend, before nodding and holding your head in your hands.

 “Namjoon is getting all the good cases! He gets the media attention, the litigation deals, everything! It’s like I’m not even given a chance to show what kind of lawyer I can be when I’m stuck with all the nursing home and car accident suits!”

 Jimin bows dutifully, nodding his head as you express your woes.

 “I can do more than just personal injury litigation… and Seokjin knows that! It’s just that Namjoon keeps getting all the air-time!”

 “I know, babe. I know.”

 With one last sigh of disbelief, you take the folder out of Jimin’s hands and sit upright at your desk.

 “Well, I guess if I’m going to be a personal injury lawyer, I’m going to be the best fucking one yet. Let’s get to work.”

 “Yeah! Fighting!” Jimin cheers.

  Namjoon sighs as he listens to his mother blabber on and on through his phone. He leans back in his chair and surveys the wide expanse of his corner office.

 Seokjin gave him this space, an upgrade from the desolate cubicles when he won his last big case, Kim Taehyung, artist v. the city of New York. He can’t help but smirk as he glimpses you from his window, pouring over a case file. He notes the curve of your back in the silk blouse you’re wearing and the way it tucks into your pencil skirt. He wishes he could see the outline of your ass and watch as it sways back and forth when you walk.

 “I just don’t understand why you can’t ever bring anyone home for the holidays!”

 His mother breaks him from his silent reverie of detailing every aspect of your backside.

 “You know your grandmother will not be alive much longer! And all she wants is her only grandson to be happy and in love! And a few grandchildren won’t hurt!”

 “I am her grandchild, Mom.”

 She’s silent for a moment.

 “Well, I wouldn’t mind some grandchildren either.”

 He groans again and presses his fingers to his forehead, a headache bubbling up behind his eyes.

 “Don’t you act like that, young man! You have a big empty house, big car, big life, and no one to share it with. I just want you to be happy.”

 She continues on and Namjoon can’t help but let her words sink in.

 He has it all. Expensive luxury apartment, enormous bed, gorgeous kitchen, money to spend on traveling and enjoying life. Yet he spends most of his time here, stuck in his office. He’s utterly alone, regardless of how many social guests he tries to entertain, horrid dates he attempts to go on. He’s always left alone, and he feels it deep at the very bottom of his heart—the loneliness and desire for a companion.

 “Mom! Mom!” He interrupts her diatribe on the futility of his adult life. “Stop!”

 “Namjoon, I’m just conce-”

 “I’ll bring home my girlfriend for the holidays, okay?”

There’s a stunned silence on the other end.

 “A girlfriend?” she asks, tentatively. “Really?”

 “Yeah,” he breathes, wincing already at the lie he’s spoon-feeding his poor mother—all in the name of getting her off his back. “She’s kind of shy, so I didn’t want to tell you about her yet, but now seems like the best time. I’m... I’m even thinking of proposing.”

 The words come out of Namjoon’s mouth before he can stop them. His mom bursts into screams of delight, and he can tell she’s running to his beloved grandmother to tell her the news.

 “Oh, Namjoon! This is all we’ve ever wanted for you. I’m so proud of you! I can’t wait to meet her! Oh, goodness, I can’t want to tell your father. Goodbye, son! I’ll see you two soon!”

 She hangs up before Namjoon has a chance to even breathe.

 “Fuck.”

 He drops his phone to his wooden desk and grimaces. 

 How the hell is he going to find a fiance in the next 3 days before the holiday break? 

 There’s Jennie, his ex.

 He thinks about it for a moment, before quickly dismissing it. No, much too clingy and possessive. She’d take it to be real, and he’d be stuck with her.

 His last hookup, Jihoo?

 No, too aloof. His mom would never buy that they were a love-sick couple on the brink of engagement.

 A crash outside his office startles Namjoon, making him stand and exit the large corner suite.

 The commotion is coming from your cubicle, where he can see you’re struggling to use the decrepit computer. The crash must have been from you slamming the keyboard to the desk, causing the individual keys to pop off the board.

 “Shit! Jimin, help me put this keyboard back together!” 

 You shimmy out of your chair and onto your knees, an excellent sight for Namjoon if he wasn’t so concerned about your well-being.

 The paralegal is standing above you, watching as you kneel to gather the pieces of the obliterated keyboard.

 “Oh no, honey. It’s against my personal constitution to be on my knees unless it’s for a handsome man.”

 “God, Jimin, come on.”

 “Hey, it’s not my fault you hulk-smashed the life out of that poor keyboard.”

 Namjoon smirks, turning back into his office and sliding into his desk. He easily opens his MacBook and emails Yoongi in IT, requesting a brand new computer for your desk—no holds barred. He wants the top of the line for you.

 He suddenly has just the person in mind to be his fake fiancée. 

  A brand new, gorgeous computer is at your desk the next day you arrive.  You nearly spill your hot peppermint mocha when you see the sleek machine atop your old plastic desk instead of the broken clunker that was there the day before.

 “What the hell?” You ask Jimin as you set your coffee down gently as if any movement might scare the new computer away. “Did you order this?”

 “I love you, but I would never order you something this nice.” 

 You can’t help but roll your eyes as you sit down to marvel at the modern machinery. At least Jimin is honest.

 “Maybe I’ll call Yoongi and ask him where it came from,” you wonder aloud, hand hovering over your phone.

 “YOONGI?” Jimin screeches, eyes suddenly wide and crazed.

 “Yeah? The IT guy?”

 “I know who Yoongi is, you dumbass! Here, let me call him! I’m your assistant!”

 He scrambles to grab the phone out of your hand.

 “You literally refuse to do anything I ask.”

 Jimin smiles cherubically, completely ignoring your confusion. He’s suddenly the picture of a model employee.

 “Don’t you worry! I’ll be right on it!”

 He hops from your desk with your cell phone gripped tight, and saunters away to a secluded area out of your eyesight.

 “What the fuck is going on today?” You ask out loud, settling into your chair and unloading your bag of files.

 “How's the new computer?”

 The sudden intruder makes you jump, nearly spilling your coffee, yet again.

 “Fuck!” You shriek as you attempt to right yourself and the dangerously hot liquid sloshing in the paper cup. “You scared me!”

 The chuckle that comes from behind you makes your stomach flip. You know that laugh. You could recognize that laugh a hundred miles away, in a hurricane, with headphones on.

 That laugh is the sultry demon himself, Kim Namjoon.

 “I—How did you know about my computer?”

 Namjoon takes a knee, bringing his face to your level in your chair. He’s close to you, so dangerously close. You can smell the Giorgio Armani cologne applied to his pressure points—the heat of his skin warming the scent and mingling with his own subtleties. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head. He smells so comforting—like a home you never knew you were missing until he arrived.  

 “I saw it when I walked in this morning.” 

 He breaks you from your daydreaming of warm, firm hands caressing your body and you’re thrown headfirst back into reality—the reality where you can’t stand the man mere inches from you.

 You push back from where you are and stand, eager to get away from Namjoon’s sudden interest in close proximity. He smirks and rises from his spot, pocketing his hands in his tight cream suit.

 “Care to join me in my office for some coffee?” He asks.

 His office. The one he scored after he won the Kim Taehyung case. The bitter betrayal still lingers in your mouth. 

 For the longest time, you had been equal in every sense; both living in the dingy cubicles with the computers long-destined for retirement. Then, Seokjin awarded him with the corner office, the one with the view of the entire city. You’d never forgiven either of them.

 “I have my own coffee.”

 Namjoon smirks as he eyes your paper cup, clearly a quick grab from the 7-Eleven around the corner.

 “Looks fancy.”

 You purse your lips and clutch your coffee even closer.

 “Please,” he asks again. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

 Namjoon’s face loses its snark, and you’re curious about what could cause the man to become so serious.

 “Fine.”

 You motion with your arm towards his office, encouraging him to walk ahead. He smirks again, ah—there’s that smirk, before he turns and heads into the gorgeous corner room.

 He lingers by the door as you enter, waiting until you’ve crossed the threshold to close the door behind you. It surprises you. Something about being in a closed room with Namjoon sets you on edge. You can nearly imagine the man bending you over that fine oak desk, hiking your skirt up and spanking your ass until it’s red.

 “Coffee?” He asks as he moves towards the in-office espresso machine.

 “Are you fucking kidding me? You have a Nespresso in your office?” 

 All desperate and wanton thoughts of Namjoon sliding into you leave once you see the stainless steel contraption in the room's corner. Of course he has a $500 coffee machine in his office. He has everything you want.

 “You like it?” His question is cocky. He already knows the answer.

 “Fuck off.”

 Namjoon grins and turns the machine on, pulling out two mugs while you sip your now lukewarm coffee. It suddenly tastes disgusting.

 “So, what’s the deal, Namjoon?” You ask as he rests against the wall and waits for the coffee to brew. “You said it was important.”

 Namjoon nods, a more reserved look taking the place of his usual cocky grin on his face. His gaze turns down to his shiny dress shoes.

 “I need a favor.”

 “No.” Your answer is quick.

 Namjoon looks up at you in surprise.

 “You haven’t even heard it yet!”

 “Yeah, well…,” you huff. “I’m not interested in helping you.”

 Namjoon leaves his post by his elaborate coffee maker, forgetting about the piping-hot liquid drizzling into white mugs, as he stands in front of you. There’s that fucking cologne again. Why does he have to smell so good?

 “You’ve got to help me. Please.”

 His sudden closeness to you sets your brain off—your steely resolve begins to crumble.

 “Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?”

 His face lights up again. God, he has such a handsome mouth.

 “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for my family Christmas party.”

 If you hadn’t had such a good grip on the convenience store cup of coffee, it’d surely drop from your clutch and splatter on the expensive carpet of Namjoon’s office.

 Your eyes widen, and your mouth falls agape.

 “You—You what?!”

 Namjoon sighs and lowers his voice.

 “Look, I…” he struggles. “I told my mom I have a girlfriend, so she’d get off my back about it.”

 “And why am I suddenly your best option for that?!” 

 You step away from the man, determined to clear your mind as the scenario weaves its way through your head. 

 Namjoon’s girlfriend. He wants you to be his girlfriend.

 Well, his fake girlfriend.

 He would hold your hand. He would kiss you. He would touch your body in ways you convince yourself you don’t think of often. 

 “You’re the only girl I know who’s got a good enough poker face to go along with it. And honestly… you’re the only girl I really know well enough.”

 His last admission shocks you. Namjoon seems like the womanizing type—one to bring a different girl home every night.

 “That doesn’t explain why the fuck I would want to help you.”

 Namjoon steps back and moves towards the coffee machine again.

 “If you help me, I’ll take all your shitty cases that Jin is giving you.”

 Your eyes narrow at the tall man. It seems too good to be true.

 “How d'you know about them?”

 Namjoon shrugs and grabs a mug full of freshly brewed expensive coffee.

 “I can hear you complain to Jimin about it every day.”

 You grumble under your breath, sucking on your teeth as you try to process the terms of Namjoon’s deal.

 “So you want me to be your fake girlfriend for your family…” you muse.

 “Yes,” he agrees. “And I’ll do all your worst cases for the next 2 months. I’ll even give you my next big one. I know you want that.”

 God, he’s right. That’s all you want. A chance to prove yourself to Seokjin, to the company.

 With an aggravated sigh, you relent. 

 “Fine! But it better be a good fucking case. And, I’m using your coffee maker every morning.”

 Namjoon can’t help but chuckle, loving the fire in your voice. 

 “Deal?” He murmurs.

 He holds out his hand to shake on it, and it takes you by surprise how warm and soft his large hands are once you slide your own into his grip.  

 “Deal.”

 Jimin is not going to let you live this one down.

  Jimin doesn’t let you live it down.

 He’s sitting on your couch, legs crossed underneath him as he hoists his wine glass filled to the brim. He holds it away from his body as he shakes with laughter.

 “You’re telling me,” he wheezes. “That you agreed to be Namjoon’s fake Christmas girlfriend? You hate that man!”

 Flopping into the couch beside him, you sigh.

 “Yeah, well, it was my only option. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

 “Okay, Godfather,” Jimin snickers. “Lord knows you still want to bone that man, anyway.”

 “Jimin!” You admonish. “I do not! And that wasn’t the deal!”

 He sips at his red wine with an impish smile. You hate it when Jimin looks at you like that, like he can see behind the lie you’ve so carefully crafted of your hatred for Namjoon.

 “Then tell me, what was the deal?”

 You fiddle with the stem of your own wine glass, sighing.

 “He’s offered to take all our shitty personal injury suits for the next two months. And he’s giving me his next big case.”

 Jimin actually looks surprised—as if he didn’t expect Namjoon to provide a deal so worth the cost.

 “Wow,” he breathes.

 You nod in reply, taking a large gulp of the pinot grigio in your glass.

 “You’re still going to fuck him though, I know it,” Jimin adds.

 You splutter your wine from your mouth, hand reaching over to gently slap Jimin on his taut abdomen.

 “Shut up!” You cry.

 Jimin looks proud of himself, sipping his red wine gleefully while he settles further into your couch. Wine nights with Jimin is the highlight of your weeks. Together, you bitch over cases, coworkers, dating struggles, and eat too much cheese and cured meats and nurse a hangover the following day with brunch.

 “Hey,” you say to Jimin as you set your wine down on the coffee table. “Did you ever talk to Yoongi?”

 Jimin’s cheeks immediately turn a shade of rouge.

 “Yoongi? Yoongi who?”

 “Oh my god,” you groan. “Yoongi from IT. You stole my phone to call him today? To ask about my new computer?”

 Jimin swallows a large swig of his wine.

 “Oh. Yes, I did.”

 “And?” You encourage the blonde to answer further.

 “And he’s doing well,” Jimin replies demurely.

 “Jimin!” You huff. “The computer?!”

 Jimin makes an ‘O’ shape with his mouth and bites his lip.

 “I… might have forgotten to ask.”

 Your mouth drops open.

 “You literally stole my phone out of my hands to call him! What did you talk about?!”

 There’s his blush again. The shade of pink on Jimin’s cheeks would be adorable if you weren’t so flabbergasted by his answers.

 “I have a date tomorrow night.” He takes another sip as you let the reply sink in.

 “Oh. My. God.” You gasp, a smile now overtaking your features. “You have a crush on Min Yoongi!”

 Jimin sets his wine glass down next to yours and turns to you.

 “I had no idea if he was into me! But when I called, I totally forgot why I was calling him and we sort of just… started talking and next thing I know, he’s asking me out to dinner tomorrow night.”

 You playfully slap at Jimin’s thigh.

 “You little slut—using my phone to get yourself a date. On company time!”

 Jimin sticks his tongue out at you, before grabbing a pillow and slapping you with the overstuffed cushion.

 “At least I didn’t agree to be his fake girlfriend!”

  It’s the sound of your phone ringing at 7:32 am that wakes you from your spot on the couch, wine glass still clutched in your hand.

 “What the fuck?” You grumble, eyes blearily seeking the offending object disturbing your sleep.

 Jimin grumbles next to you, kicking at your foot as if it will stop the phone from ringing.  

“Stop,” he whines and cuddles into his fetal position. “Turn it ooooff.”

 You locate your cell phone and groan as you recognize the name on the caller ID. Namjoon. What the fuck could he possibly be calling for? And why did he have to call at seven in the goddamn morning? 

 “What do you want?” You snap as you hold the phone to your cheek and throw yourself back onto the couch.

 “Well, good morning to you, sunshine.”

 Namjoon’s voice, as sexy and sultry as it sounds, still aggravates you.

 “Why are you calling me? It’s Saturday. Its seven am.”

 Namjoon chuckles and you fight the shiver that works through your spine at the sound.

 “I tend to keep human hours on the weekend.”

 You can’t hold back the sarcastic guffaw that escapes you.  

 “Okay, Mr. Perfect,” you sigh. “That doesn’t explain calling me.”

 Jimin kicks at your foot again. 

 “Stop talking,” he grumbles.

 God, Jimin is such a diva when he’s hungover.

 “Meet me at the cafe on First Street,” Namjoon says casually. “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

 “Right now?!” You ask, incredulous.

 “I’m literally already here. Hurry before your coffee gets cold.”

 You let out a whine that could rival a 5-year-old’s temper tantrum.

 “Fuck you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

 There’s no care about your phone when you end the call and throw it to the floor.  Jimin grumbles and rubs at his eyes.

 “Why the fuck are you having phone sex with Namjoon so early in the morning?” He asks.

 “Jimin, I swear to God.”

 He wraps himself in the throw blanket and buries his face back into the couch while you stand and retreat to your bedroom to throw on some semblance of appropriate clothing for the occasion.

 “Fucking Namjoon,” you grumble under your breath as you change into jeans and a sweater. “Fuck him and his stupid, sexy face. And his unbelievable ass. And his stupid, probably enormous penis. Man, I hate him.”

 As you’re re-entering the living room and grabbing your important items (keys, wallet, lip gloss just in-case), Jimin pops his head out of his blanket cave.

 “Where are you going?” He asks, suddenly less annoyed and more pathetic. “You’re leaving me?”

 “I have to go meet Namjoon for coffee. I don’t know why, so don’t ask.”

 “You’re really going to let me suffer here? Alone? With no coffee?”

 You spin around to face your best friend, who’s giving you an absolutely soul-crushing pout and puppy eyes.

 “Yes. Call Yoongi.”

 His precious pout is wiped away, and a devious smirk takes its place.

 “Great idea!” He says as he digs around for his phone. “Be careful out there! It’s icy! Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall on Namjoon’s dick.”

 Your only reply is one singular middle finger in Jimin’s direction as you exit your apartment.

  Namjoon can’t help but smile as he sips his warm coffee. The cafe is warm and bright, despite the chill outside. 

 Things feel peaceful. Tender flakes of snow trickle down outside and frost up the shop’s window. There’s something about this time of year that strikes him down to the core. Something cozy, something warm.

 It’s odd to think this will be his first year not celebrating the holiday alone.

 Even if it is... well, fake. 

 The bell over the door chimes an arrival, and Namjoon can tell by the grumbles and grunts and stomps of snowy boots that it’s you.

 “Over here!” He calls, raising a hand and turning to face you.

 Wow, he thinks. You look gorgeous, even without trying.

 You hurry your way over to the booth and plop yourself on the opposite side, immediately lunging for the obvious mug of coffee waiting for you on the table. You don’t waste a minute gulping the liquid down your throat, then spluttering when you realize it’s still hot.

 “I thought you said it was getting cold!” You cry, airing out your burnt tongue. Namjoon can’t help but imagine that tongue sliding up and down his cock.

 Not now. Wrong time and place to get a boner.

 Namjoon smiles as he sips his cappuccino. 

 “I got you a fresh one.”

 You make a face, but your features soften. As if you’re pleased with the idea that Namjoon cared to freshen up your cup.

 “Oh, well--”, you manage. “Thank you.”

 Namjoon doesn’t reply, but merely tips his head. The silence is thick enough to cut with a knife. Normally, you’re both normally so wound up in aggravating the other that a moment of calm is strange, but not unwelcome.

 “So, why the early morning wake up?” You finally ask, fiddling with the handle of the mug.

 Namjoon settles his cup down.

 “We need to get to know each other. Deep shit, you know. The shit that lovers would know about each other.”

 He notices you, watches as you nibble at your lip. You try hard to hide it behind the mug you lift to your lips, but Namjoon notices. 

 “I’m hoping maybe we could spend the day together,” he adds. “I need to get some Christmas gifts for my family and… well, it’s rather lonely doing it on my own.”

 There’s a slight smile at the ends of your lips.

 “And you needed me at seven thirty in the morning to do that?”

 He stifles a laugh.

 “Like I said, I operate at regular human hours. Even on weekends,” he replies.

 With a dramatic sigh, you agree.

 “Fine,” you say. “I’m an open book. Ask me anything.”

 He watches as you settle into the seat of the booth, hands gripping the warm mug like it’s a personal heater. He notices you’re only wearing jeans and a sweater--no properly warm clothing for the snow storm ahead. He’ll have to fix that, and soon.  

 “What are you doing for Christmas?” He asks.

 You level a look.

 “Spending it pretending to be in love with you.”

 Namjoon can’t help but snort a laugh.

 “I meant after that.”

 You shrug as you settle back into the seat.

 “I don’t like Christmas. I don’t do much other than force Jimin to kiss me under the mistletoe and watch shitty movies with a gallon of boxed wine.”

 “Hmm,” he hums. “You’re sort of a Grinch.”

 A scowl comes over your face.

 “I am not! I just don’t buy into this whole ‘prove how much you love me by buying me things’ shit. It’s a big scheme, I tell you! Capitalist propaganda! They encourage you to spend all your money, and if you don’t, they shame and guilt you by telling you you don’t love your family enough.”

 Namjoon can’t help but laugh as you rant. It’s what makes you such a talented lawyer—your ability to feel a passion so deep within you you’re able to convince a stone-faced jury of your side.

 “Don’t laugh at me!” You cry. “I’m serious! My family doesn’t celebrate, I don’t celebrate. I’d rather just buy gifts for my loved ones when I see something they’d like. Why do we have to put a time of year on it?”

 He shrugs and scooches his mug around the carbonate table.

 “I suppose that makes sense,” he muses. “But you’re still a Grinch. And a Scrooge. You’ll definitely get visited by some Ghosts at midnight.”

 “Ha ha,” you snark sarcastically. “Hilarious, Namjoon. Don’t tell me you’re a big festive guy.”

 “Somewhat. It’s my Mom’s favorite holiday. It’s why she’s so bent out of shape about me having a girlfriend. Something about family and love and shit.”

 You nod, understanding him completely. Your own mother, despite her reservations towards the holiday, still makes a fuss over your single status. There must be some Mom code to obsess over your children’s woeful dating life.

 “Well, I say let’s get on with it then. Ready to hit the shops?” He asks.

 You’re mid-sip of your finally cooled coffee and you send a desperate look to the man in front of you.

“Already?!”

 “We’re burning daylight, baby.”

 Namjoon stands and you can’t help but feel a roar of flames in your belly at the pet-name. Your cheeks are surely flaming up and you admonish yourself for getting so peaked about such a trivial name.

 “Please don’t tell me we’re walking,” you murmur as you sneak a peek outside.

 The snow is falling down harder now, and you’re dreadfully underdressed for the weather.

 Namjoon tsks at your lack of outerwear, but then shakes his head.

 “No, we’ll take my Range Rover.”

 You roll your eyes and grimace.

 “Of course. You have a fucking Nespresso machine and a Range Rover. Asshole.”

 Namjoon doesn’t even think about it as he grabs your hand and laces his fingers in between yours. If anyone asked, he’d say it’s practice—to familiarize himself with the way your fingers slot between his own so it’s not such a foreign concept when he does it in front of his family.

 “Yeah, but I’m your asshole now, princess.”

 Christmas shopping with Namjoon is mostly painless.

 Normally, you dread the lines and the crowds and the confusion and the expense.

 But with Namjoon, you relax and banter away with the tall lawyer. You’re completely at ease as you walk through crowded aisles and sort through racks of cashmere sweaters and stacks of fuzzy blankets.

 “Mom will love this, don’t you think?” Namjoon asks, holding up a thick, exquisite looking blanket.

 You’re about to answer with an affirmative when you catch yourself. You don’t even know his mom. You’ve never met the woman. Why does it feel as if Namjoon is someone you’ve known your entire life? 

 Why do things feel so easy with him?

 “Sure, Namjoon,” you reply. “Seems like something most mother’s would be into.”

 He smiles at you. It’s a genuine smile too, one that nearly knocks you on your ass. Your body is sent into overdrive constantly. He holds your hand, he places his hand at the small of your back to guide you through a thick crowd. He calls you baby and princess and doll.

 It’s confusing.

 It’s amazing.

 You can’t tell if you love it or hate it.

 Namjoon pushes the shopping cart and walks beside you, chatting easily about his various aunts and uncles names that you likely must remember at some point but you just can’t think about anything but Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.

 You hate him. He stole that corner office from you. He’s going to take the promotion you want from right under your nose. He has a goddamn Nespresso in his office and a Range Rover. 

 And yet, you can’t help but fall in place next to him and listen to him tell stories of his childhood, weaving tales of uncles who snuck him his first sips of alcohol and aunts who spoil him rotten. He’s easy to listen to, a natural story-teller. Your body feels warm, as if you’re sitting on a large hearth by a roaring fire. He’s comforting.

 It’s infuriating and wonderful all at once. 

 “And that’s when my cousin Jungkook got caught smoking cigarettes. My grandma beat our ass so bad I couldn’t sit for a day.”

 Namjoon finishes his story and turns to look at you. You’ve been staring at the man for nearly a minute straight now.

 “Hey,” his voice is soft. “You listening?”

 You shake out of the trance Namjoon’s deep voice sends you into.

 “Yeah!” You reply with a smirk. “Sounds like this Jungkook is a guy I’d like to meet.”

 Namjoon sucks his teeth and nudges you.

 “Hey, you’re my girlfriend, remember.”

 You stick your tongue out at him playfully.

 “Fake girlfriend. I’m still a single, desirable lady at the end of the day.”

 Namjoon hesitates before answering. He wants to reply something snarky, something sarcastic and witty. But he takes a moment to pause, allows himself to fully immerse himself in you. Even hungover, in yesterday’s jeans and an old sweater, you’re still an absolute catch. You’re the definition of desirable and Namjoon can’t help but allow himself to desire.

 “Hmm, is that what you call it?” He asks, now allowing the sarcasm to permeate his words. “I was thinking you’re more of the spinster, cat-lady type.”

 “Hey!” You pout as you slap at his arm. “I’m allergic to cats!”

 “But you don’t deny being a spinster.”

 “Fuck you, Namjoon.”

 He grins and pushes the carts towards the candle aisle, a sure-fire gift for his aunties.

 “In due time, my love.”

  By the time Christmas Eve arrives, you’ve spent nearly every day with Namjoon. At work, he brings you fresh coffee from his Nespresso and buys you lunch. You’ve even landed his big case, an incredibly complex lawsuit that will showcase your skills. Namjoon gives you pointers and space to talk through the case with him.

Namjoon is, in fact, simply being kind. And it unsettles you.

 Your heart and brain are at war with each other constantly. You should hate him, loathe him. He’s going to nail that promotion regardless of what you prove to Seokjin.

 But your heart tells you he deserves it. He’s an incredible attorney and has earned every ounce of respect. You want Namjoon to get that promotion just to see that smile on his face. He’d do incredible things as Seokjin’s protege to take over the firm.

 You hate to admit it, but Namjoon has melted the ice around your heart. And you’re dreading the day after all this is over, because it will be the day Namjoon stops holding you close and pressing soft kisses to your temple. It will be the day he stops pretending this is all real.

 It’s Christmas Eve and you’re sitting in Namjoon’s expensive Range Rover, plush leather seat toasty from the built-in seat warmer. You can’t help but marvel at the way the oncoming headlights brighten up Namjoon’s features as he drives you down a snowy mountain lane. They always hold the Kim family holiday party at Namjoon’s late grandfather’s cabin in the mountains, a quiet getaway for the family to gather and spend the night together to wake up on Christmas morning and gather around for presents and food.

 Which means waking up to Kim Namjoon.

 It’s something you’ve dreamt of often, but denied yourself any actual possibility of it. Namjoon was always out of reach, and it was easier to hate him for his success he rightfully deserved than it was to admit the feelings that were always inside.

 And now, although it’s artificial, you can’t bear to think of not spending your time with Namjoon anymore.

 You steal a glance again at him, and smile as you hear his faint humming. He loves Christmas music. You learned that early in the week during another early morning coffee and ‘get to know you’ before work. Namjoon couldn’t stop singing Mariah Carey’s classic pop song under his breath as it played over the speakers in the cafe. 

 “It’s so pretty up here,” you muse as you force your vision away from Namjoon’s gorgeous face to the snowy scenery outside. 

 The snow is falling gently, not enough to cause a blizzard but enough to make it seem like you’re trapped in a picturesque snow-globe. Leaving the city and entering the magical forest stirs an emotion inside you you hadn’t felt in some time.

 It’s Christmas Eve and there’s just something magical.

 Ugh. Unbelievable.

 Namjoon has even made you actually enjoy Christmas.

 He nods. “Yeah, it’s my favorite place in the world, I think.”

 “I can see why,” you sigh. “It looks like a painting.”

 Namjoon glances over at you peering through the window. His heart hammers in his chest hard as your glittering eyes bounce around from tree to tree, a pretty smile on your face. The diamond ring in his pocket feels like it weighs a literal ton and he nibbles at his lip.

 He bought it for the showmanship of it all, initially. It was his first purchase he made when he set up this whole rouse.

 But now, it feels real. It feels like he’s really about to get on one knee and ask you, the girl he’s absolutely head over heels for, to marry him.

 And then it will be over.

 He’ll make up some story to tell his mom about how it didn’t work out and you’ll go back to being his coworker, and nothing more.

 Namjoon can’t fight the sinking feeling in his stomach.

 Nothing more.

 He pulls into the driveway before you even have time to realize you’re there. He puts the car in park and smiles over at you. 

 He looks so cute in his puffy winter coat, hair pushed to the side and a smile that’s all dimples and cheeks.

 Fuck.

 “We’re here,” he whispers. “You ready?”

 Suddenly, the nerves of meeting your fake boyfriend’s entire family slap you right in the face. You hope that you’re a good enough actress to get Namjoon through the night and into the morning.

 “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 He nods and squeezes your hand, an unspoken comforting ‘I got you’.

 Namjoon gathers his wrapped gifts and stacks them all in his arms, ignoring your pleas and giggles to help carry them in.

 “No, no,” he assures. “I have to make sure my mom sees me being manly and helpful.”

 As if on cue, the front door opens and Mrs. Kim is bursting out into the snowy night.

 “Namjoon!” She shrieks, completely overjoyed. The rest of the family is standing by the door, eyeing you carefully with smiles and whispers. You pray to whatever Christmas God that’s listening that you can do this.

 Namjoon sets the pile of gifts down just in time to wrap his delicate and tiny mother in his arms, hugging her tightly while she gleefully buries her face into her tall son’s chest.

 “Oh, my son, I’ve missed you.”

 Namjoon kisses the crown of her head and smiles.

 “Missed you too, eomma.”

 The scene has you misty-eyed and you swipe at your eyes to stop the tears. There’s no way you’re ruining the fantastic makeup you did for the occasion, but the reunion of Namjoon and his mother is heart-warming. He clearly cares for his mother more than he would outwardly admit. 

 Namjoon and his mother unwrap from each other and Namjoon turns towards you.

 “Everyone, this is ____,” he breathes. “My girlfriend.”

 His mother’s gleeful squeals now turn to you, and within an instant she’s gathering you up in just as tight of a hug as she did to her son.

 “Oh, darling, we are so happy to meet you,” she beams.

 The excitement in her voice makes you feel bad—like you’re conning an old woman out of her retirement. You’re instilling a sense of hope in the kind woman, and you can’t help but send Namjoon a look as you wrap your arms around her and return the embrace. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t read.

 “I’m happy to meet you too,” you smile as you pull apart. “Thank you for letting me come.”

 “No thanks necessary,” she admonishes with a wink. “We had to beg Namjoon to bring you. It seems he wants to keep you all to himself.”

 “Eomma!” Namjoon snaps. “Be appropriate!”

 She nudges you with her elbow knowingly, which makes your cheeks flame hot, before she leads the way back into the house.

 “Come in, come in! Let’s get out of this snow.”

 Namjoon encourages you to step inside with a gentle hand at the small of your back—a touch that makes your body light up brighter than a Christmas tree.

 “Thank you,” he whispers in your ear from behind. You can feel the warmth of his lips and your body reacts.

How is it that any simple act makes you desperately horny for the man? You pray for some respite from your sexual frustration over the next day. How are you going to last over 24 hours?

 Namjoon deposits his massive haul of gifts under the tree and returns to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to bring you close. He introduces you to uncles and aunts and cousins. He even introduces you to his infamous cousin, Jungkook, who smirks at you in a way that makes Namjoon pull you in closer to his body.

 “Are you doing okay?” Namjoon finally asks after the rush of relatives greeting you dies down. He turns you towards him, to face him directly with his hands on either of your shoulders. “You’re killing it.”

 You can’t help but smile. Namjoon’s family is all incredibly kind and funny. They welcome you into the family with ease and it chips away a little more each time at your heart.

 Because this is all fake. 

 One day, Namjoon really will have a girlfriend to bring to Christmas and to show off to his relatives and it won’t be you. You’ll be back at your apartment, watching shitty TV re-runs and binging on Chinese takeout, as you do every year. It’s a jab at your heart each time the bitter truth rears its ugly head.

 “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m great.”

 “Look!” Jungkook shouts. “They’re standing under the mistletoe!”

 Namjoon blushes a shade of red that likely matches a blush on your own cheeks. Sure enough, the green branches of the mistletoe taunt you from above. 

 You’ve never kissed Namjoon before. In all the skinship and closeness of the last week, you’ve still yet to close the gap to kissing the man. 

 “Oh, come on Kook, that’s a stupid tradition,” Namjoon murmurs awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

 Jungkook smirks as he steps up next to you.

 “Well, if you’re not going to do it, I’d be more than happy to take your place.”

 Jungkook wraps a loose arm around you and gives you a charming smile. He must be very popular with the ladies, you think. That’s a charming smile.

 “Hey!” Namjoon grabs for your hand and tugs you out of Jungkook’s predatory gaze. “She’s my girlfriend.”

 Namjoon looks at you for a moment, assessing your comfort level with everything about to take place. His lips look so inviting, so plush and warm. Now that you’re thinking about kissing him, you can’t help but focus on the way his lips pucker so gently and naturally.

 And then it happens. Namjoon lowers his face towards you and it feels as if the world is in slow-motion. It’s happening.

 The first press of his lips is soft and conservative. You take a split second to register, but instinctively you press against his lips with determination and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

 He groans softly as you trail your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opens for you without hesitation. His hands grip at your waist and bring your body flush against his. You can feel his cock twitching and rising from the kiss that’s gone from innocent and playful to passionate and deep. It feels like the world around you has stopped and the only thing that matters is Namjoon, his mouth, his body against your own. He tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint, and you want more, more.

 “Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook’s voice shatters your illusion of being all alone with Namjoon. “Now you’re just showing off.”

 Namjoon pulls away from you, eyes dazed as he tries to right himself. 

 “You two are just so perfect for each other,” Namjoon’s mother says, who’s suddenly appeared in Jungkook’s place. “Let me show you your bedroom.”

 “Oh, we’re sharing?” You ask without thought. It’s a large house, with ample bedrooms surely for you to have your own space.

 Namjoon nudges you in the ribs gently, eyes widening and mouthing a ‘what the fuck do you mean?’ 

 “Of course dear, don’t be silly,” his mother replies with an eyebrow waggle and a chuckle. “I remember when your father and I were dating. He would sneak into my room after my parents went to bed and keep me up all night long. Your grandfather would ask me if I had terrible dreams that night, because I looked so tired.”

 Namjoon makes a face. “Eomma, please,” he begs. “Please don’t talk about my parents like that.”

 As his mother guides you down a long hallway, your mind is whirring with too many thoughts of Namjoon, of sharing a bedroom with Namjoon, of seeing his sleeping face and waking up next to him. It’s all too much, too overwhelming. You pray there’s a couch in the room you could sleep on, because you’re far too weak and you’d rather fight the desperation in your body than face the fact that you want nothing more than to curl right into Namjoon’s strong arms and let him hold you all night to sleep.

 Fuck.

 “Here we are!” 

 His mother opens the door with grace, and flicks on the light. The room is beautiful in its simplicity. A king sized bed, a fireplace, and a balcony with a view of the sprawling snowy scene outside. It’s cozy and warm and decorated with its own Christmas tree.

 “Wow,” is all you can muster.

 “Aish, Mom,” Namjoon sighs as he drops his bags. “You didn’t need to do all of this for us.”

 Mrs. Kim holds his hand in both of hers. “Well, I know how special this Christmas is going to be,” she winks. “I want you to enjoy your time here. Now, I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. Dinner is in an hour, so ‘freshen up’!”

Another wink, and Namjoon makes another face. She definitely wants grandchildren, that much is for certain.

 She closes the door behind her and you’re left standing in the room, overnight bag in hand.

 “This is—Wow, this is amazing.”

 You’ve never experienced Christmas like this—with decorations and warmth and family. It’s as if the love of the Kim family permeates the very walls of the expansive cabin, like it’s built into the foundation itself. For a moment, you allow yourself to soak it all in. This is all yours. It’s your Christmas and you finally understand why so many make such a fuss over it. The results are nothing short of remarkable.

 “Yeah, she really does the most,” Namjoon laughs. 

 He takes the bag from your hand without your notice and you step towards the balcony to peer into the night. The landscape looks as if everything has been covered in soft marshmallow. The snow is untouched—picture perfect.

 “I’ve never had anything like this before.”

 Namjoon settles your bag and his on the bed, watching as you soak in your own wonder. The smile on your face is not one he sees often, one of pure joy. Namjoon swallows hard as he realizes he wants to be the one to always put that smile on your face.

 “Not such a Scrooge after all, eh?”

 You turn from the still-life view outside and back to Namjoon, where he stands at the foot of the bed. He looks so different outside the office. He’s wearing skinny jeans and a flannel shirt, his puffy jacket hanging by the door. No cream suit, no slicked back hair or shoes shiny enough to see your reflection. Just simply Namjoon.

 He’s no longer the man who steals the limelight in the office. He’s no longer the man you see as your adversary or your rival.

 He’s the man who’s showing you the magic of Christmas, the spirit of love and kindness that embodies the season.

 He’s the man you’ve fallen in love with.

 And yet, he’s the man who will leave once this is over and return to his proper life, and you to yours. He’ll return to sleeping with models and movie starlets, and you’ll return to binge watching Great British Bake-Off with Jimin and a carton of Chicken Tikka Masala.

 And Christmas will never feel as special as it does now. 

 So, you’re determined to soak in it for a little longer. It’s going to hurt regardless, so why not push that hurt off until tomorrow and allow yourself to pretend you live the lie you’re spinning for Namjoon’s family?

 “I think I’ll just freshen up and change into my dinner outfit, then?” You ask out loud, grabbing for your overnight bag and heading towards the ensuite.

 Namjoon, who expected a witty retort, takes a moment to reply.

 “Oh,” he coughs. “Yeah, sure. I’ll err—, I’ll just get ready out here.”

 You quickly escape into the bathroom, closing the door and resting on it as you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

 The tension in the bedroom with Namjoon was too thick, too powerful, especially after the kiss you just shared. His cock had been there, straining in his jeans as you licked into his mouth. The kiss felt so natural, as if you had always kissed Namjoon like that. Your heart beats loud and hard in your chest just from the thought of it.

 You really needed to get a handle over yourself. You still have dinner to get through, and an entire night in a bedroom with Namjoon. A bed with Namjoon.

 No, you won’t allow yourself to go that far. You can pretend you’re his girlfriend, but all thoughts of his delectable body doing scintillating things to yours is strictly off-limits. You shake all thoughts of a thick, heavy cock sliding into your mouth and warm hands spreading you open, and set about fixing your makeup and changing into the gorgeous cocktail dress you purchased for the occasion. It wasn’t often you got to get dressed up. The emerald green velvet dress clings to your body and highlights your curves. It’s a sexy dress, definitely, but also appropriate for a formal evening with your boyfriend’s parents.

 Well, your fake boyfriend. Right.

 After fixing your hair and buckling your heels, you take one last glimpse in the mirror for good luck and exit the room.

 Your breath is nearly knocked out of your lungs as you see Namjoon. 

You’ve seen him dressed up for court and for TV appearances millions of times, but you’ve never seen him like this.

 He wears a blood red button up without a tie, a few buttons open to emphasize the casual look, tucked into the tightest and sexiest slacks you’ve ever seen. They hug his thighs and sit at a spot on his waist that you just know is rippling with cut lines from his work in the gym. His hair is tucked back with a bit of hairspray, and he’s fixing the sleeves of his shirt when he sees you.

 His eyes widen and his hands fall to his sides as he soaks in your appearance.

 An absolute vision.

 He can see the gentle valley between your breasts and the way your dress pushes up your cleavage and displays your collar.  The dress follows the delicate curve of your waist and hips and ends at your knee, but teases him with a glimpse of thigh that has him wiping his mouth in case he’s drooling. 

 “You look incredible,” Namjoon murmurs as you step closer.

“So do you.”

 You swallow hard as he continues closer to you, breathing harshly as he stands right in front of you. You could reach out and unbuckle his expensive slacks and fist his cock right there. You’d fall on your knees for him, if he asked.

 There’s a moment of silence as Namjoon’s face inches closer and closer to your own, each unable to verbalize just how desperate either of you feel for the other.

 “Namjoon, I—,” you start. You want to tell him. You want to tell him everything—that you don’t want this to be fake, that you want this to be real, and you want to be his and his forever.

 “Yes?”

 You swallow hard, shaken by just how close his lips are to yours. He’s inches away and all you can focus on is the way his plush lips look and how well they fit against your own under the mistletoe.

 “I just—, I really um, I’m just very…” 

 You’re not making sense. Comprehension of language is quickly soaring out the window because the only words you know are ‘Please, for the love of God, kiss me and make me yours’, but you can’t bring yourself to speak them out loud.

 Namjoon’s hand cups your cheek, as if he can tell what you’re trying to say.

 “Yeah,” he breathes. The inches between you turn to centimeters, to bare millimeters. Your eyes flutter close as you feel his breath dance over your lips and your heart beats so loud you’re sure the entire household can hear it. He’s right there and moves in to close the distance—

 “Knock Knock!!”

 The forceful, cheery voice of cousin Jungkook forces both of you to jump away from each other as if you’ve touched a burning stove. Your head feels light, like you’ve forgotten to breathe for the last ten minutes and you’ve suddenly taken in too much air.

 The wooden door squeaks open and Jungkook pokes his head in, a shit-eating grin on his face.

 “Auntie sent me to get you. It’s dinnertime!”

 Namjoon rubs his face frustratedly. “Yes, thank you, Jungkook.”

 Jungkook doesn’t leave, however. He smiles at you and winks. 

“Would you like an escort to dinner, madame? You look tastier than the roast beef downstairs.”

 A blush creeps over your cheeks as Namjoon storms to the door where his cousin laughs.

 “That’s enough, Kook. We’ll be down in a minute.”

 He sends you one more grin, then retreats from the door and closes it behind him.

 “Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologizes. You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for—Jungkook, or the moment before.

 “It’s alright. Let’s go?”

 Namjoon nods and holds out his hand with a smile.

 “Let’s go, girlfriend.”

  Dinner with the Kim family is as delightful as every other interaction with them has been. They’re polite and funny and ask questions about your life and your family.

 They ask how you met Namjoon (at work), what your favorite quality about him is (his smile and his ass), and what your first date together was (coffee at seven in the morning).

 You tell stories of Namjoon in the office, of your best friend Park Jimin who’s secretly trying to date the IT manager, of your parents and Christmases past.

 By the time dessert is served, Namjoon’s mother looks at you as if you’ve put the very stars in the sky.

 Namjoon doesn’t miss that look either. He can see the way his family is falling in love with you and somewhere deep in his stomach, he feels the guilt rising. All of this is a lie. Not only is he going to break his own heart, but every heart of his family member’s too. 

 “We’re all just so overjoyed that Namjoon has found someone to share his life with,” his mom speaks softly. It’s the first time she’s been thoughtful and quiet. She’s a woman who’s larger than life, you’ve found, so the softness in her tone strikes a chord. “You’re absolutely perfect for him. I’ve never seen him happier.”

 Fuck. 

 “Thank you,” you murmur sincerely to his mother. “I’ve never been happier.”

 Namjoon peers up from where he’s been pushing around his uncle’s famous chocolate cake on his plate to watch as you speak.

 “Truthfully, I never cared much for Christmas. I thought it was a rubbish holiday and spent it alone every year with a bottle of wine and some takeout. Namjoon really changed that for me,” you smile at the man and place your hand in his lap to hold his free hand. “He showed me more about Christmas in one week than I’ve felt in my entire life.”

 Namjoon’s mom wipes away an errant tear and he squeezes your hand under the table.

 “I guess the Grinch’s heart has grown 3 sizes, after all.”

 Namjoon’s joke lightens the soft mood, and suddenly there’s chatter around as the family members move about to wash dishes and clean up the mess of dinner. Everyone leaves the table except for you and Namjoon.

 “That was some good acting,” he whispers with a sad smile.

 “Right,” you whisper back, nibbling your lip anxiously. “Acting, of course.”

  You should have thought through the bedroom sharing thing more.

 Because sharing a bedroom is one thing.

 And sharing a bed is another.

 And of course, the only pajamas you thought to bring tonight is a very sexy long shirt that says “no coffee, no talking” with a bedazzled pair of shushing lips. That’s it. Just a single shirt. Not even a pair of shorts or pajama pants.

 You slip into the bed first, as far onto one side of it as possible. It’s a king sized bed, and it still feels too intimate, too close.

 Namjoon exits the bathroom after his shower, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of flannel pajamas, leaving his bare chest on display.

 Sweet lord in heaven, you nearly cry out loud. He’s absolutely ripped, pecs defined and droplets of water from his hair streaming down. You want to chase each drop with your tongue and circle back again. You shut your eyes tight and clench your teeth. Why, oh why, does he have to look so fucking sexy at a time like this?

 Namjoon sees you at the edge of the bed, shutting your eyes closed like you’re a shy schoolgirl afraid to see a naked man’s body. He feels guilty for making you be here. He knows you’ve likely got better things to do than spend time with a man you openly hate.

 “I’m sorry,” he apologizes for nothing in particular. 

 You ignore it. Instead, you’re trying to think of every un-sexy thing in the world you can possibly imagine. Taxes, a bunch of bees, old people, shark attacks.

 There’s absolutely nothing that can stop the image of Namjoon’s perfectly sculpted body from bursting into your mind. You’re nearly pleading with yourself to just go to sleep and contemplate how hard you’d need to hit your head to knock yourself out as fast as possible.

 “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says as he grabs a small throw blanket from the closet and throws it to the ground by the fire.

 It snaps you from your musings of how best to forget how badly you want to suck Namjoon’s cock through his pajama pants.

 “What?” You sit up in the posh bed and finally make eye-contact. “Why? It’s freezing. There’s a literal snowstorm outside.” You motion to the window of the balcony. What was once a gentle snowfall is now a full-on winter storm.

 “There’s a fire. I’ll be fine, I sleep hot anyway.” Namjoon’s voice is low and without energy. He almost sounds sad.

 God, is being with you that hard for him? You know you’re just the artificial replacement until he has the real thing, but you’d actually hoped Namjoon had found it as comforting and warm as you had.

 “Namjoon,” you sigh. “This is a king-sized bed. You don’t need to be waking up with back pain because you gallantly slept on the floor.”

 To emphasize your point, you tug back the blankets on the other side, beckoning him to join.

 He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s weighing the pro’s and con’s and sliding into bed next to you in his mind, then stands and pads his way on the plush carpet towards the bed and slips in.

 There’s an entire football field of distance between you two in the bed, but it feels like he’s right beside you. You imagine sliding in right next to him, wrapping your arms around his taut chest and pressing soft kisses to his stomach.

 You squeeze your eyes closed again. Stop it, you horny slut.

 “Thank you, again.” Namjoon breaks the silence. “I really appreciate you helping me out.”

 “Yeah,” you swallow hard. “Of course. What else was I going to do? Jimin’s probably sucking Yoongi’s dick right now, so I’d be watching baking shows alone.”

 Namjoon laughs for a moment, then quiets.

 “You know, I don’t even really want that promotion at work.”

 You’re surprised by the sudden change in topic, but you turn over to face Namjoon.

“What?! Really?”

 Namjoon nods and stares at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m that good of an attorney to get it, anyway.”

 His statement makes you sit up in bed again, staring at the man in disbelief.

 “Are you fucking kidding me, Namjoon? You’re the best lawyer in the firm.”

 Namjoon says nothing, just turns to stare at you curiously as you continue.

 “You’re like… literally better than Seokjin, too. The way you handled the Taehyung case was nothing short of historical. Like, that was an impossible case, and you nailed it. That was your ‘OJ’ case, you know?”

 Namjoon barks a laugh.

 “My what?”

 “Your OJ case!” You use your hands to emphasize the importance of what you’re saying. “Like, they’ll write about you and how impossible the odds were of winning that case. And you won it! Not even Seokjin could have won that case.”

 He’s silent again, watching as you speak directly from your heart with all the fire and passion you feel about the things you care about. It’s what makes you such an incredible lawyer, too.

 “Wow,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

 You settle back down from your excitement, suddenly bashful at how fanatical you became.  

 “You’re welcome,” you murmur. “You deserve that promotion. And the office.”

 Namjoon smirks.

 “And the Nespresso?”

 Your eyes narrow and send a glare to him he can see even with the faintest of light in the room.

 “No, no one deserves the Nespresso, except for me.”

 He chuckles and settles down into his pillows.

 “Goodnight,” he whispers.

 “Goodnight, Namjoon.”

 There’s a beat of silence and your eyes flutter shut easily. It’s quiet, and all you can hear is the crackle of the log in the fireplace and the wind blowing past the balcony windows as the storm outside rages.

 “Oh,” Namjoon whispers again. “And, Merry Christmas.”

 You can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your face.

 “Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

  “Happy Christmas!” A voice bellows through your bedroom at approximately seven fifteen am.

 You groan, immediately grimacing and burying your face into your firm, warm pillow.

 “Nooooo,” you whine, trying to hide from the offending noise.

 Namjoon shakes awake, and notices Jungkook standing at the bedroom door once again.

“It’s time for presents!” He giddily explains. “And, they gave me the job of waking you two up.”

 “Of course,” Namjoon yawns.

 “You look a little wrapped up,” Jungkook smirks, eyeing your sleeping body. “I’ll give you two a minute. Don’t get distracted.”

 Namjoon rolls his eyes and watches as the door closes, before he turns his attention towards you.

 Somehow, in the middle of the night, you’ve scooched yourself to his side of the bed and draped your body around his. Your face is buried in his chest and your legs are haphazardly intertwined in his own.

 He bites his lip. His cock is rock solid, not just from his usual morning wood, but from the way he can feel your tits through your shirt, and from the sight of your pink panties. Namjoon wants to take them off with his teeth and bury his face in your delicious cunt, and his cock is nearly screaming at him to get on with it.

 “Hey,” he whispers to you, actively ignoring the demon that is his turgid length. “Wake up.”

 This causes you to cling harder to his chest, rubbing your sleepy face on him.

 “What is it with you and early mornings?” You ask, blearily raising your head to peer at him judgementally.

 Namjoon bites his lip, curious about your reaction to the tight embrace you’ve got on him. He doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to break the spell. Frankly, he wants to push your sleep shirt up and stuff you full of his cum.

 “Merry Christmas?” He offers shyly.

 You take a full minute to recognize what’s happening.

 You’re no longer on your edge of the bed. You’re wrapped around the man like a koala, legs strewn over him without care and clinging to him like he’s a lifeline.

 “Oh!” You gasp as you jerk out of his grasp. 

 In your movement, your leg brushes over an obvious tent in Namjoon’s pants, making him groan softly. You shut your eyes, embarrassed at how disgustingly horny you are for the man who’s not even interested in you sexually.

 “Christ, I’m so sorry,” your cheeks flame bright red and you scoot further from him.

 “No, no, don’t be,” Namjoon wheezes as he tries to fix himself. “It’s fine. It’s more than fine. It’s great. It happens. Don’t worry.”

 He continues to stammer out reassurances as he leaves the bed and bolts into the bathroom to fix his unruly tented pants, leaving you sitting atop the bed washed with shame.

 “Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you rub at your cheeks. “Get a grip of yourself.”

 Inside the bathroom, it only takes Namjoon a few fisted jerks of his cock and the mental image of you beneath him, begging for him, until he’s silently cumming on an expensive towel. He bites his free hand to stifle the moans he makes as his cock pulses.

 By the time he arrives back in the bedroom, you’ve changed into a hoodie and yoga leggings that accentuate your ass so delectably that Namjoon thinks about turning right back into the bathroom for a second round.

 “I’m sorry!” You nearly shout when he walks into the room. “About the bed. You were warm and I was cold. That’s all.”

 Nmajoon simply nods, doesn’t want to have to explain how he wishes he could wake up like that every day. Doesn’t want to describe in vivid detail how he’d wake you up with his tongue buried deep in your cunt.

 “Let me grab a shirt and we’ll head out, yeah?”

 Your eyes dance over the defined ridges of his body, a little crest-fallen at the idea that this might be the last time you see him shirtless, but you nod anyway.

 “Yeah.”

The ring box sits in a deceptively large box beneath the tree. Namjoon wrapped it last night and hide it at the very back. His heartbeat hammers in his ears as his family passes around gifts and opens each with squeals of delight.

 His mother gave him new ties for the office, ones that Namjoon prefers. She’s even gifted you with jewelry, which makes your eyes water at the sentiment.

 It all begins to be too much. It’s harder and harder to hold back the tears as each of Namjoon’s family members gives you gifts. It doesn’t matter the value, not at all. The fact that they specifically set out to include you in their gift-unwrapping makes your heart snap in two.

 This is all too much, it’s too real.

 It’s everything you never dreamed you could have. A loving partner who lets you sit in the space of his legs and rubs your arms soothingly. A family who goes out of their way to include you in the abundance of love and company. A cabin so warm and cozy.

 The tears don’t stop.

 It’s at the end of the gift exchange that you finally allow yourself to breathe. 

 “There’s one more,” Namjoon whispers as he moves from behind you and fetches a large box from behind the tree. “It’s for you, princess.”

 Curiously, and suspiciously, you eye him as he sets the enormous gift in your lap. You had done nearly all his Christmas shopping with him, and can’t remember a single thing he would have gotten for you.

 “I hope it’s the Nespresso from your office,” you snark with a smile. His family members all laugh and exchange knowing looks to each other.

 Namjoon doesn’t think he can breathe. He watches as you begin to carefully unwrap the large box, which reveals another box, slightly smaller. He can’t help but grin as you continue to unwrap the nesting-doll style gift until you’re down to the smallest one, the one that holds the ring box.

 With one last tear of paper, your eyes widen as you recognize the velvet box.

 “Oh--,” you breathe as you delicately pry open the gift.

 Inside sits a dazzling and gorgeous diamond ring. It catches the light from the fire and sparkles like a firecracker.

 “Oh my god,” you whimper as the tears flow again.

 He’s proposing.

 Namjoon settles himself onto one knee and tucks an errant piece of hair behind your ears.

 “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew from day one that you were always the girl I wanted to marry,”

 Namjoon’s speech sends daggers to your heart. He’s so convincing for something so counterfeit. 

 “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, much longer than we’ve been together. You’re who I want to come home to every night, and who I want to wake up with every morning.”

 It hurts. It hurts so badly that you’re crying even harder as he continues to speak. His family must think you’re simply overcome with emotion and love that the crying doesn’t give it away, but inside you’re absolutely dying.

 There’s no way you can recover from this.

 Tomorrow, Namjoon will take the ring back to where he got it from and return to what he had before. He’ll leave you behind, broken and hopelessly in love with a man who faked a relationship so well that you fell for it, hard.

 “____, will you marry me?”

 You take several large, gulping gasps to reply. You can’t shatter the illusion. Namjoon’s parents are weeping with joy, while his relatives record the moment on their phones and wipe away errant tears. Even Jungkook looks soft, proud of his cousin for taking the next step in his life.

 Oh, how you wish this were all real.

 “Yes,” you lie with a smile. “Yes, Namjoon, of course!”

 Namjoon grins and pulls you to standing, gathering you in his arms as he hugs you tight. His family cheers and hollers in the background, and you sob into his shoulder as you cling to him.

 He easily slides the diamond ring out of the box and onto your finger, where it sits and taunts you. The weight is heavy, and you whimper at the realization that this will never be for you. It will sit atop a pretty model’s finger sometime soon, when Namjoon resumes his regular life.

 “Oh, my darlings, I am so happy for you!” Namjoon’s mother appears and wraps you both in a hug, weeping and kissing cheeks. “We must discuss planning!”

 It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. The tears and weeping turn to wracking sobs, which quiets the family as they watch you hold your face in your hands.

 “I’m sorry,” you apologize through your grief. “I—I just need a moment.”

 Without another word, you turn from the scene and bolt back towards the bedroom.

 It’s silent and Namjoon’s heart sinks. 

 This must be too much for you, too much for you to pretend to love him. He knew it was too much and he should have discussed it with you beforehand.

 “She’s just a little err--,” Namjoon tries. “Easily emotional. I’ll go check on her.”

 His family understands as Namjoon hurries towards the bedroom and gently opens the door.

 You’re sitting over your overnight bag, trying to shove any clothing into it you can, while you sob openly.

 “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I should have told you. I sort of... told my mom I’d be proposing to my girlfriend.”

 There’s pain in your eyes as you snap your head up to look at him. It nearly destroys him.

 “You should have warned me!” You gasp. “Namjoon, I can’t do this.”

 Namjoon lowers his head and shoves his hands into his pockets of his pajama pants.

 “I get it. I know you want to go back to your regular life. I can take you home now.”

 You’re silent for a moment, standing and moving towards the man.

 “Don’t you get it, Namjoon?”

 He raises his head to look at you curiously, brow knitted together with confusion.

 “I’m in love with you, you asshole!” You cry, pushing at his chest. “I can’t continue to pretend this is real anymore. I love you, I absolutely love you and I can’t go on watching you pretend you love me too. It’s too much for me to handle.”

 Namjoon’s world freezes in time as he watches you slide the ring off your finger. He grasps your hand to stop you, his eyes boring into your own.

 “I never had to pretend.”

 Before you can speak, Namjoon cups your cheek and pulls you in close, mouth sealing over your own in a desperate kiss.

 You don’t fight it, not at all. You sink into his grasp and kiss him back with fervor, with all the pent-up emotions you’ve held back all this time.

 “I’m in love with you,” he whispers as he pulls away from the kiss. “I meant every single word I said.”

 More tears stream down your cheeks, and Namjoon is quick to wipe them away with his thumb.

 “I know it’s maybe too soon for us to really be engaged, but I—I want that, with you,” he adds. “I want you to be my girlfriend… for real.”

 “Are you being serious right now?” You ask as your hands cling to Namjoon’s waist.

 He can’t help but to laugh, nodding in reassurance as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

 “Never been more serious in my life.”

 “I can’t believe you’re mine,” Joon murmurs into the nape of your neck.

 You were supposed to be driving home to your apartment now, back to real life, but the snowstorm raged on and Namjoon decided it might be best to spend yet another night in the cabin. Together. As a couple. A real couple.

 You didn’t put up much of a fight.

 He’s pressing soft kisses into your tender skin as he closes the door to the bedroom.

  “All mine, all mine.” He chants it like a mantra. 

 You’re trying to maneuver your way into the dark bedroom, only guided by the light from the fireplace. Namjoon stops you and pulls away from your neck, eyes soaking in every inch of you.

 “You have no idea what I’ve been dying to do to you,” he speaks after a moment of appreciating your beauty.

 “Hmm, I think I have some idea,” you say, a finger at Namjoon’s chest, directing him towards the bed. “I’ve been dying to suck your cock, Joon,” you whisper in his ear as he makes his way backwards. “Will you let me?”

 Namjoon nods in a daze as he sits on the edge of the bed and watches as you kneel. Your eyes are full of hope, full of lust. It makes his cock harden further.

 “Please do,” he breathes. “I’ve wondered what you’d look like with your mouth full of my dick.”

 You smile as you tug at his flannel pajama pants, pulling them down thick thighs and calves until they’re completely off. Your mouth waters at the sight before you. Namjoon’s cock is thick, head weeping with pre-cum and straining hard against his taut chest. He’s been working out more, you can tell. His arms are full and strong, and his chest is so firm and defined. 

 He’s an entire three-course meal.

 Before you move closer to his cock, Namjoon stops you.

 “Take your shirt off.”

 You comply easily, already settling well into an obedient role. He discards the shirt to the side and marvels at your breasts. He can’t wait to mark them up, suck them until you’re crying.

 “Perfect,” he sighs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

 He allows you to resume your work, eyeing the length of his cock before wrapping a hand around it and gently pumping.

 “Shit,” he breathes as his head falls back. “I’ve dreamt about how it’d feel having my cock in your hands.”

 “What else have you dreamed about?” You ask with a teasing smile, bringing your lips to the tip to paint tiny stripes. He tastes salty, somewhat earthy, and the pre-cum that’s gathered at the top gets swept up by your tongue. 

 Namjoon can’t believe how lucky he is. Can’t believe how incredible it feels to have you here, licking at his cock like a lollipop. He’s enchanted by the way your delicate tongue swirls around his head, testing and teasing.

 “You look so good, princess,” he whispers as he tucks stray hair behind your ears. 

 You’re encouraged by his sweet-talk and soon descend to take his cock fully in as far as you can go. You’re definitely out of practice, but you steel yourself up to take him completely to the back of your throat. Namjoon’s desperate moans and cursing only encourages you further.

 Soon enough, you’ve started a rhythm of bobbing your head and swirling your tongue and pumping your hand down his thick length. The noises leaving your mouth are sinful—slurping and sucking and whining around him. Namjoon’s got a hand on the back of your head, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and coaxing your bouncing head further down his cock.

 “Oh, shit, baby,” he grits through a tight jaw. “I’m gonna cum baby girl, fuuuuckkk—oh god, yes baby, just like that.”

 You slurp and swallow around his cock as much as you can, head bobbing at a frantic pace while you cast your eyes upwards to the man to watch him come apart. He meets your eye contact and loses it at the fire burning in your beautiful eyes.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps as his cock pulses. “Cumming, baby—ohhhh, shit, take it all, baby.”

 After slowing your pace completely, you sweetly moan around his length as his salty cum splatters on your tongue. Bringing Namjoon to climax with your mouth is already one of your favorite hobbies, and you’re desperate to do it again.

 When he’s completely spent in your mouth, you pop off carefully and present your tongue to your boyfriend, who smiles.

 “You gonna swallow my cum, baby girl?” He asks, cupping your cheek sweetly.

 You nod in reply, and he groans as he watches you close your mouth and visibly swallow his load.

 “Fuck, that was so hot. Fucking kiss me already,” he demands, pulling you up gently by the hand and pressing his mouth to yours. He doesn’t care if he can taste himself still lingering in your mouth. In fact, he thinks your mouth should always taste like him.

 Namjoon holds you close as he kisses you, tongue diving around and seeking purchase in your mouth. His hands are roaming your body, cupping your breasts and caressing your curves. He can’t get enough. He doesn’t think there will come a time in his life when he won’t love touching you.

 His hand smoothes over the satin of your panties and he smirks into the kiss as he feels how wet they are.

 “Oh my,” he tuts as he rubs at your clothed slit. “All this from sucking my cock, princess?”

 It’s too late to be ashamed of it. You simply nod and whimper as his thick fingers rub at your core. You’re dying to feel those fingers inside you, scissoring you open to prepare you for his massive cock.

 “P-please,” you gasp, needing more of him. “Please, Joon.”

 He lets out a breath of contentment, loving the way his name sounds in your breathy moans. In one quick swoop, he flings your panties off and onto the floor and slides down to his knees where you knelt moments before.

 “I want to see this pretty pussy up close,” he murmurs as he lays you out at the edge and spreads open your thighs as wide as he can. 

 You’re gorgeous, absolutely mouth-watering. He licks his lips as he watches your folds drip with arousal and takes a delicate finger to trace the slit gently.

 “Fuck,” you gasp as he swirls his finger around your sensitive clit. It’s been so long since someone else has made you orgasm, you’re sure you won’t last a second with the man of your sexual dreams face-first in your cunt.

 “This is my pussy now,” he states as he leans in close and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. “I’m going to make you cum every fucking night, baby. Gonna claim this cunt as my own.”

 You’re trembling from his words and his actions as he soon buries his face into your pussy and eats as if he’s a man starved. His tongue swirls around your hole before swiping up to your clit, making your back arch and keen off the bed. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and sucks gently, lewd noises echoing off the walls of the bedroom.

 “Namjoon!” You squeal as he slides two of his fingers inside you and slowly pumps. They’re thick and perfect, and they’re better than you could have ever dreamed.

 “Cum for me, baby,” he coaxes as he licks at your clit. “I know you want to.”

 He’s right. You’re desperate for it and the string inside your belly that tightens with each thrust of his solid fingers has it nearing a snapping point.

 Namjoon speeds up, adds a third finger and fucks into you like a man on a mission. He watches your face pinch in agonized delight and is hypnotized by the way your tits bounce with each thrust up. His cock is rock solid again, aching to bury itself deep inside your womb and coat you with his cum.

 “That’s it, baby girl,” he breathes as he watches your body quiver. “Cum on my fingers, let daddy see you fall apart.”

 He presses his lips to your clit one last time and sucks, and it sends you reeling over the edge into bliss. Namjoon moans as he feels your cunt convulse and squeeze his fingers as if they’re his cock, and he nearly whines at how good it’s going to feel when he’s balls deep inside of you.

 “Fuck!” You cry as your back lifts off the bed and your legs shake. “Oh, my god!”

 Namjoon kitten licks at your pussy as you come down, cleaning up the juices that coat his fingers. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he does it, sucking up your essence like it’s an expensive wine he won’t waste a drop of.

 “You’re so fucking sexy,” he says as you try to catch your breath. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my office.”

 The smile on your face turns lustful as you spread your legs open once again and present yourself to him.

 “Why don’t we practice right now?”

 Namjoon grips the base of his cock and gives himself a few pumps as he stares at your gorgeous body—laid out and ready for him.

 “Merry Christmas to me,” he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your lips and lines himself up.

 In one swift motion, he slips inside your juicy channel and buries himself to the hilt. You’re so wet and warm and tight that Namjoon falters and groans out loud.

 “Holy shit,” he cries. “Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt in my life.”

 Namjoon filling you up to the brim is something you’ve only ever dreamt of, and now that it’s happening you feel intoxicated. He’s so thick inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could handle, and the burn is so sweet.

 “Fuck me, Joon,” you beg as he continues to still inside you. “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

 It’s the magic word for Namjoon and instantly he’s snapped back to feral, ready to claim you as his own. He grips your hips tightly as he pumps in and out of you, delighted by the squelching juicy sounds of your cunt as he takes you.

 “That’s right, baby girl, I’m your fucking daddy,” he grunts. “Take this fat cock for daddy.”

 Your legs quiver with each thrust and Namjoon sucks a nipple into his mouth, nibbling gently on the bud which makes your body thrum with electricity. He’s marking you, claiming you inside and out, you realize. You whine and keen for him to continue, and Namjoon growls as he doubles his pace. 

 He thrusts into you without abandon, desperately seeking his release that will have him spilling his cum anywhere he possibly can.

 “Mmm, look at my pretty princess,” he groans as he stares at your blissed-out face. “Taking daddy’s cock so good, being a perfect little slut.”

 His words make your eyes roll back into your head. You’d never had someone speak so nasty to you while being so kind and praise-worthy that you don’t think you can now ever live without it.

 “G-gonna cum, daddy!” you cry as you feel your body nearing the edge. “Please let me cum!”

 Namjoon gasps for air and drops a thumb to your clit to rub circles on the sensitive bundle.

 “Yes, baby girl, cum for daddy. Cum on my cock, princess.”

 Namjoon’s unrelenting pace and thumb handily stroking your clit brings you to the end, sending you screaming into orgasmic delight.

 Namjoon nearly weeps at how good your cunt feels convulsing around his cock, walls coaxing him and gripping him tight as if your pussy is begging for his own release. 

 “Cum inside me daddy, please,” you beg as you try to catch your breath. 

 Namjoon needs no more permission. He gasps as your channel tightens around him impossibly and sends him into his own release. He whimpers as his cock pulses with ferocity, loads of cum splattering your walls.

 He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he rests his sweaty forehead on yours as you both try to catch your breath.

 “Holy shit,” you gasp as you feel yourself returning to Earth.

 Namjoon laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, before nodding.

 “Yeah,” is all he can manage.

 After a few shuddering breaths, you wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s naked body and hold him close, as close as you can.

 “If this is what Christmas is all about, sign me up.”

 Namjoon buries his face into your neck and kisses you sweetly, before lifting and giving you a playful smile.

 “I guess all Scrooge needed was a good fuck. Dickens got that part all wrong.”

Returning to work after the New Year was easier this year than it had ever been in your career.

 Namjoon was given the promotion. He told Seokjin he wanted to keep his corner office near you because he “likes the view”, and that he would give all his top cases to the best lawyer in the office—you.

 Jimin won’t stop screaming when he sees the diamond ring on your finger. You haven’t wanted to take it off since the moment you put it on. Maybe it’s not an engagement ring quite yet, maybe it’s just more of a promise. Either way, Jimin is ecstatic and confused as he shakes you down for answers.

 He walks with you to your desk, chattering away about his week with Yoongi, while you sip your convenience store coffee.

 “What the fuck?” Jimin asks as he notices something on your desk. “What is that?”

 As you round the corner, your eyes catch sight of a gleaming silver contraption on your desk, right next to your brand new computer.

 A Nespresso.

 A smile crosses your lips as you approach the expensive machine and notice a folded up card on top.

 Inside, the card is simple.

 “To the only girl in the world who deserves a Nespresso. Love, Namjoon.”

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