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dancingtotuyo · 7 months

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Before | 1. the mountains are screaming

A Woman Story

Rating: Mature

Series Summary: Five peeks into your past before Joel Miller reentered you life

Summary: you’re alone and in need of supplies but a trip down the mountain brings you much more.

Tags: The Last of Us, set in the Woman universe, love, loss, loneliness, backstory, slight enemies to lovers vibes.

Warnings: talk of loss and grief (spouse,brother& kids), violence, blood, fight, guns

Notes: those drabbles I referenced, yeah they turned into a mini series within the Woman series! 3 chapters to be posted before we delve back into the main story with 2 more to follow on alternating weeks!

Shoutout to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for taking a look at this! I adore you my dear 💚

Words: 3632

Series Masterlist | Woman Masterlist | Author Masterlist

You’ve put it off long enough, but you’re low on supplies, and the homes within comfortable walking distance are long-picked over. You know going into Jackson is your best bet, but it’s a full day’s walk just to get there, and you haven’t been there in years. You don’t know if it will be abandoned still, crawling with infected, or crawling with people. It’s risky leaving the house unattended for so long, but you haven’t seen another human being in almost 2 years. In theory, no one should be here when you get back.

You have to go, and you have to go tomorrow. Winter will be upon you before too long. You figure you’ll need to make a couple of trips to get you through the winter.

You set out as soon as it’s light out. The trip there is easiest, going downhill with your pack light. You can’t even consider the trek back.

Alone, the town feels more unnerving. A few windows are broken here and there, doors rotted out in places, but relatively untouched. Dust collects in inches. You’re shocked by how much is left intact, like the town has been preserved by fate. You stuff your bag with canned foods, carefully inspecting each one before moving to the first aid supplies.

Your pack is full when you hear it, a collection of voices. A strong command echoes to spread out and clear the buildings. Your heart drops to your stomach. You should’ve come a day earlier. Procrastination has come to collect its dues just like it did in college, except this isn’t your GPA. It’s your fucking life.

You glance out the window. Several people with rifles flank the street, five in your sights, but you hear more. So many more. A couple of horses whinny. You slink behind a shelf, pressing your back against it. You have minutes, seconds maybe before they find you. There are too many to shoot your way out. You have to find a way to slip out undetected.

You scan the store, spotting the back entrance. Maybe they won’t be out back. There’s a thicket of trees around the north edge of the city. If you can make it there without them spotting you, maybe you can hide out until it’s dark enough to travel to the mountain tree line. It’s a long shot, but you’re a sitting duck here.

You move quickly, careful to stay out of sight. Your boots are heavy on the floor. The voices grow in number and volume. Your hand touches the cool door knob. You take a moment to steady yourself. There’s no time for nerves or doubts. You crack the door open. The alley is clear.

It’s open on both ends, doing nothing to ease your nerves, but the bright fall colors from the thicket call your name. Sticking close to the wall, you make sure to keep any noise to a minimum. Your heart races with each new voice.

You’re almost to the end of the alleyway. The trees are 50 yards away, a couple of houses to keep you covered as you move toward them. You can do this. Then the crunch of gravel bounces off the walls of the alley. You glance behind you. Your eyes connect with brown ones. Time stands still like a deer in a hunter’s crosshairs just before he pulls the trigger. You might look just as wild. Before he can alert anyone, the adrenaline hits. You take off toward the trees, all sense of stealth gone.

He yells and then starts after you, but you can’t spare the time to look behind you. You can’t outrun him, but if you can make it to the trees first, maybe you can find a place to hide before they catch up.

There are more shouts, more footsteps. A shotgun fires just as you cross into the cover of the trees. There aren’t a lot of options, but you’re in better shape than you were 30 seconds ago. Fall leaves crunch underfoot. You can’t run forever. You’ll reach the end of the thicket soon enough.

A dog barks. Your brain barely comprehends it. Horses, dogs, what's next? House cats? Out in the open, they’re sure to catch you. There are more houses if you turn west. Maybe you can hide until dark. The footsteps are getting closer no matter how fast you run. Maybe you should just accept the odds are not in your favor. You’re hopelessly outnumbered and outpowered, but you won’t do that. You haven’t come this far to give up now.

A body collides with your back, knocking the wind from you before you tumble to the ground. You use the momentum to roll, hoping to shake the body, but his grip is too strong. You refuse to hold still, finding his thumb and pulling it back. He cries out in pain. Your nails dig into his cheek, leaving a nasty trail of scratches down his face. It’s enough to push out of his hold.

You slip on the leaves as you attempt to get up. He grabs your ankle with his unharmed hand, pulling you back down. You manage just enough coordination to land a kick to his groin and a solid punch to his right eye. Your knuckles ache immediately, but it works until two sets of hands clamp down on your arms. You try to pull away, but they push you to your knees.

Another person helps your attacker to his feet. You catch a flash of red on his cheek, presumably from the scratches you left down his cheek. It’s little comfort when the barrel of a rifle lands at your back.

This is it. This is where you die.

“You okay, Gabe?” A woman’s calls.

“Been better.” He’s panting. Good. “Think the thumb’s broken, but I’ll be fine.”

Boots crunch on the leaves, drawing closer until the toes of them stand at the edge of your vision. Silence falls, your own quiet panting the only thing you can hear. You wonder if you look as wild as you feel. Maybe they’ll just shoot you now, give you no chance to plead or bargain. That would be more humane.

“What are you doing here?” The woman asks.

You still haven’t looked up, haven’t looked at her face. Survival says you should. Maybe they’ll be less cruel if you look into their eyes. You don’t respond.

“We got her backpack.” A random voice calls. You don’t remember dropping it, but the last couple of minutes are a blur. He comes up beside the woman. She digs through your newly acquired possessions.

“Not much here,” She says. “Your group must be nearby. How many are there?”

Dry laughter forces its way out of you. You suppose you could lie. Maybe they’d spare you, but they’d find out soon enough. There’s no need to draw this out.

“You think this is funny?”

“There is no one else.” You roll your head up, looking her in the eye for the first time.

She straightens, leaning back just a little as she contemplates your words. She’s not what you’re expecting. She wears a stern expression, but her eyes seem almost kind, like an old friend with a cup of warm tea. “I’m just supposed to believe that?”

“Why would I lie about that? I’m dead anyway.”

“Are you?”

“I’m the one with a rifle at my back right now.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Precautions.”

“What do you want from me?”

“The truth.”

“It is the truth. I’m the last one left.” The woman seems to believe you this time, an air of surprise passing through her eyes.

She looks at the men keeping you contained. “Let her go.”

“Maria,” One raises a sound of protest, but she cuts him off with a single glare.

The rifle lowers. The grip on both your arms disappears as you scurry to your feet. The woman looks between you and your bag before handing it back. “There a lot of traffic through these parts?”

“I think the stores speak for themselves,” You say. She tilts her head to the side. You won’t lie, it is effective. “I haven’t seen another human being in 2 years, but I don’t stay here.”

“Infected?”

“Had a small pod come through a couple years ago. Haven’t seen anything but strays of late.”

She seems content with your answer.

“Am I free to go?” You sling your pack over your shoulder.

“You’re gonna need more than just that to survive.”

“What makes you think I don’t have what I need.”

Once again, she cuts through your bullshit. Is this woman a mind reader or something? Or maybe it’s been the lack of human contact. No, this woman has the stare mothers develop to pry the truth from their children. It’s just as effective on adults.

“We��re gonna stay here, at least for a while. You’re welcome to join us.”

The offer catches you off guard. You’re not sure what to think. If they wanted to kill you, they would have already, unless they’re really that sick and twisted. You look around at the other faces around you. Four men including the one you hit. There’s already swelling around his eye, the scratches are bright red with drying blood. Two women, but you know there’s more. You can hear them now, clearing the buildings through Jackson.

“And if I say no, Maria?” You square up with their leader, a faint smirk graces your face. There’s a certain power in knowing her name when she doesn’t know yours.

“Then I’ll have Gabe escort you back with plenty of provisions to get you through the winter.” She points to the man who caught you.

“You’re gonna send the man with a broken thumb and bad eye? Must not like him very much.”

“Kinda been getting on my nerves lately,” Maria cracks a grin, but you don’t return it.

Gabe scoffs. “I’m the comedic relief. Can’t kill me off.”

Your face stays flat, unimpressed. “I don’t need an escort, and he clearly isn’t in any shape to be going anywhere.”

“I said you could go. I never said I trusted you.”

“I can fix him up before I go.” You nod to the man. “I used to be a trauma nurse.”

Maria tilts her head to the side. “Good. He’ll be in better condition when he takes you home tomorrow.”

You don’t know why, but the word home makes you cringe. You don’t have one of those anymore.

You set up outside of the old clinic after scouring for supplies to clean the scratches and a splint. It seems like FEDRA cleaned out a lot of the medical supplies when they evacuated, but you manage.

Gabe watches you carefully, still wearing a smile. “I don’t see how you can sit there grinning with that black eye.”

“Badge of honor.” He says, eyes glued to you. “Do you ever smile?”

“No.” You say, taking a hold of his hand. Gabe starts to ramble on about something you tune out as you focus on the anatomy of his hand. There’s something about using your old trade that sets a thrill through you, only briefly. Without warning, you snap it back into place. He screams out in pain. You look up at him, a brief smirk playing on your face. “Lucky for you, it’s not actually broken.”

“You’re better than I thought, Doc.”

“Nurse,” You say, splinting his thumb. “You should wear this for the next 4 weeks. Longer if there’s still pain.”

“Or you could stay and oversee his recovery,” Maria says, walking up. “We could use someone with your skills.”

You finish wrapping the splint before turning to face her. “I’m good. He’ll be fine.”

“It would be nice to have you around-”

“I said no.”

She sighs, crossing her arms. “Okay, but it’s an open offer if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

Maria shifts, sliding her hands into her pockets. “House around the corner at the end of the street. We cleared it. It’s dusty, probably rat-infested, but in decent shape. You can stay there tonight.”

You nod. “Thanks.”

You sit on the porch steps of an abandoned house. A faded red X paints the door behind you and an orange campfire flickers in your eyes. There are about 30 of them in total. A majority of them circle around the fire about 50 feet away. You catch the hums of multiple conversations, but no substance. A few children run around, catching fireflies, but it's the laughter that strikes that deep sense of want within you. Your chest aches with the grief of what you’ve lost since the outbreak, forced into survival mode. When was the last time you laughed? Or smiled? There’s been no occasion to. There’s been no desire to.

Tears blur the edges of your vision. Memories flash before your eyes of the good times, your brothers, your parents, grandparents, friends, that last summer with Sarah. Your heart clenches. You have no idea what happened to them. You can only assume they’re gone. Hoping doesn’t do you any good, and the odds have never been in your favor.

“You could come join us, you know,” Gabe says, walking up to you. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, a smile plastered on his swollen face.

You quickly wipe the excess moisture from your eyes. “I’m fine.” It’s emotionless, passive.

“You gonna sulk all night? I’m the one with a busted face.”

“I’m sorry some of us don’t feel like celebrating.” You roll your eyes, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you look back at the door to the house you’ll be spending the night in. Can’t you just be left alone? You have to spend the whole day with him tomorrow.

“You’re like one of the Eight Dwarfs,” he says.

“Pretty sure there were seven.” You bristle, standing up.

“Doleful, the eighth dwarf that never was. That’s you.”

“Doleful, really?” You say, rolling your eyes. Your annoyance with him is growing exponentially. What is his deal?

“Yeah, I haven’t seen you so much as crack a smile. Always so serious.” He furrows his brow in an almost mocking manner as he steps into your space, wearing the same goofy grin. You want to slap it off his face.

“Do you always talk to women this way?” There must be smoke pouring from your ears at this point.

“Only ones who give me black eyes.”

“You were the one chasing me!”

“You were running. Maybe I just wanted to say hi.” He’s goading you, and the annoying part is he’s succeeding.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Then walk away, Doleful.”

That’s when it hits you. How close he’s standing. His eyes flutter over your face. You can feel the warmth of him seeping into you. How long has it been since you touched another human being? Today's events notwithstanding. It’s been even longer since you had someone look at you like that.

You swallow, letting yourself dwell in the feeling for just a second before setting your jaw and turning away. You catch the sound of him letting out a breath, the same one you were holding. Your hand hovers over the door knob. “Make sure you keep your hand elevated tonight.”

“Yeah… will do.”

You step inside before he can say anything more.

You’re flush against him on a horse the next day. He insists he’s fine to take the reins despite his broken thumb. Maria also insists, muttering something about not trusting you. Experience tells you you shouldn’t let them know where you live, but your gut trusts them not to harm you.

Gabe tries to joke and make conversation. You give him nothing but grunts and one-word responses. You stop about 30 minutes from your destination to eat lunch and let the horse rest. Your legs feel numb, not used to riding.

“You gonna ignore me the whole time, Doleful?”

“Talk to the horse.”

“He’d be better conversation.”

“What is your deal?” you ask, finally fed up.

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

“What mood? There’s no mood to lighten!” You finally lose it. You haven’t had to deal with the yapping of another person for years and your tolerance is at an all-time low. Carter would be disappointed at how fast this man has gotten under your skin.

He tilts his head to the side, looking at you like he’s actually thinking. That would be a first. “People still need to experience joy and laughter.”

The laugh that leaves you is free of humor. It comes out under your breath, meaner than you intend, and he hears it. “You obviously didn’t have to lose anyone.”

He straightens immediately, face darkening. “No, I just chose to not let it consume me.”

He moves over to the horse, securing the saddlebags with more force than necessary. The tension and anger ripple off of him in droves. You bite your lip, guilt instantly falling over you.

“Gabe, I-“

He holds up a hand, cutting you off. “I think it’s best if we don’t talk the rest of the way.”

You supply a nod, but the guilt eats at you the closer you get. From what you can catch of Gabe’s profile, it’s set firmly in stone. You haven’t seen him without a smile yet. It hasn’t been long, but it doesn’t feel right. It feels like you swallowed someone’s joy, put out their light with your darkness.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. His head twitches back just slightly, letting you know he heard. “That was cruel. Of course, you’ve lost people. You don’t make it this long without it.”

You feel him tense underneath your palms, but then he inhales deeply and relaxes. “My wife and two girls on outbreak day.”

You suck in deeply. “I’m an asshole.”

“I mean… yes.” A faint smile returns to his face and light to his eyes, and maybe, just maybe, your lips tug upward a little bit. “I know it’s a little much for some people. They don’t get it.”

You relax a little. “Try a lot.”

“If I came off as too strong, I’m sorry.”

You bite your lip. “It’s okay. I guess I’m a little rusty dealing with people.”

He waits for a second, letting the silence invade. You hear a woodpecker in the distance and the crunch of leaves underfoot. A squirrel scurries across your path, presumably preparing for the harsh winter ahead.

“How long have you been alone?”

“My brother died almost two years ago. We were the only ones left.”

Gabe nods in acknowledgment. He keeps the silence for the rest of your ride.

By the time the gate fades into view, you can tell Gabe is mostly back to his usual self, not quite as smiley or annoying, but close. Either that or you’re actually growing to like it- him.

He helps you bring the food inside. You catch the ways his eyes roam your space without being too invasive. “It’s a big place for one person.”

“It’s got a gate.”

“So does Jackson.”

You look at him. He raises an eyebrow. “Part of Jackson.”

“Has more people too.”

“And what makes you think I want to be around people?”

“This isn’t living, Doleful.”

For the first time, you don’t mind the nickname. It hints at a familiarity you don’t have, but you’re starting to wonder if you want it.

You cross your arms, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “And smiling means you are?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Attempting to.”

“So what? I’m just supposed to go back to Jackson with you? Join the group and wander?”

“I think our wandering days are over.”

“Oh?”

“Maria thinks we can settle in Jackson. You said it yourself, just a few stragglers..”

“I only know from up here, not down there.”

“Stores are hardly touched.”

You know he’s right. “Why do you want me to join so badly?”

“Well for starters, you fixed me up pretty good.” He holds up his braced hand. “Could be pretty useful to have around.”

“So I’m just useful.”

“I don’t think you want to be alone,” he says. You inhale softly. “And I would really like the chance to make you smile.”

You look away, emotions you long pushed down threatening to spring back up.

“I figure I have two hours before I need to head back. I’ll wait outside.”

Gabe leaves you in the kitchen. You walk through the house, contemplating his words. The offer he and Maria both made you. Do you leave this place? A safe haven of sorts. You stop in the great room, Carter’s blood stain brown and dried on the light carpet. You’ve tried so hard to pull it out, but everything seemed to make it worse.

Sun streams through the big, picture window. You walk over, soaking it in. A small moment of peace in a tumultuous world. Something in your heart tugs, something else releases.

Gabe sits out on the deck, staring at a creased, faded picture when you settle next to him. The breeze picks up, playing with the color of his shirt. “Is that them?”

Gabe nods.

“My brother bled out in there.” You point behind you. “I’m thinking a fresh start might not be so bad.”

Gabe smiles at you. “Is that so?”

You nod. “I don’t need long to put a bag together.”

“I’m glad you changed your mind. My face isn’t so sure though.”

You’re not sure what it is, but laughter breaks out of you, a smile cresting your lips. Gabe chuckles alongside you as your crow's feet crinkle.

“I knew it.”

“What?”

“That you would have the prettiest smile in the world.”

#the last of us #tlou #woman (joel's version)#woman (joel’s version)#backstory #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal

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3ofpents · 2 months

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Mothman Moth Wings // Fabric Design for @shapeshiftersvt and The Cryptid Collection

It's time to talk about my Mothman fabric design!

This was another fabric design where I didn't have a poster yet to pull design elements from, so I was working entirely from scratch. I actually designed two different Mothman fabrics and fully intended to illustrate both of them, but then our whole household got covid and my entire workflow shut down and my design schedule got thrown off. I may or may not have adapted the second design to a bonus drop that may or may not be coming soon. But this is the one that Eli and I both really wanted for The Cryptid Collection, Eli especially because they'd already designed their Mothman runway look to incorporate a cape made with this fabric.

When I was brainstorming designs, the big thing I was focused on was how to utilize the common visual shorthand for Mothman — a black humanoid figure with moth-like wings and big red eyes — without unintentionally encroaching on someone else's interpretation. It did not take me long to decide against depicting Mothman literally and to remember that the coolest looking moth wings almost always have a pair of false eyes on them.

I wanted a very sooty look, like I had in my head the story of the moths in London during the Industrial Revolution whose wings got darker in theory because the sudden extreme rise in the amount of smoke and coal in the environment darkened the bark of the trees that the moths hung out on. I didn't want it black because I still wanted the pattern to be visible so that you really got the effect of the moth wings.

I opted for more of a blood red with the eyes just to keep that kind of broody, vampiric vibe too. It is plenty bright and obvious amongst all the greys.

There might ... also ... be a bit of an easter egg ... for fans of a certain game ... thinking about ... how ... dreams ... and manipulating people's dreams ... to try and save them ... is a big part ... of Mothman's mythos ...

I actually had to go through like two rounds of unofficial proofing to get this final version of it. When I say "unofficial", I mean that I went through Spoonflower's digital proofing process, we ordered a couple of yards in different fabrics, and when we got them, we discovered we were victims of the reason you should really do a physical proof: The colors were way too dark. Which makes perfect sense! It looked fine on my laptop screen, but my laptop screen is a giant LED light. A yard of fabric isn't. So what I saw as pretty good detail on my screen, just ended up being mostly undefined black blob when it was printed. So I lightened the colors a bit.

Then, when orders started coming in for binders and sports bras, we realized that the eyes were set too close to the edge of the fabric to accommodate multiple sizes. So I moved the eyes in to the center of "wings". Which also proved to be better for the cape too, which got remade with the new print.

As frustrating as it was to, like, go a couple of weeks thinking the print's good and finished, and then hear from Eli that there's something wrong, fix it, then go another couple of weeks thinking it's good and finished, and then hear from Eli that there's something else wrong, and fix it ...

I'm really pleased with this design. I don't think it's exactly what I had in my head at first conception? But part of the reason it changed so much was just the medium it was designed for. It was a really practical education in how a piece can change from digital art to rendering in a different medium. Like, I knew that was a risk in theory, but it helps to see it happen and understand why. Now I have more knowledge about how to avoid it in future projects.

As I mentioned in the last post, if you'd like your own chest binder or sports bra in this fabric like the ones pictured above, you can find them here (along with the poster print) on the Shapeshifters website.

If you'd like to purchase the fabric for your own sewing projects, you can do so through our Spoonflower shop. There are three different sizes there — small, medium, and large. The large is a single pair of wings that takes up the entire yard; the medium is two sets of wings across the width of the yard; the small has three sets across the width of the yard. Though keep in mind that these were designed with Spoonflower's sport lycra in mind, which is wider than some of their other fabric options. For fabrics under 56" wide, one or more of the wings may get cut off, so you may want to take that into consideration when you're choosing which size you want.

#mothman #cryptids #moths #fabric design #art #shapeshifters #the cryptid collection

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butterflydm · 2 years

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wot reread: the gathering storm (chapters 17-25)

spoilers for the gathering storm

1. I continue not to care about the Semirhage interrogation. Anyway, physical force, bullying, and shaming ‘breaks’ Semirhage enough for questioning. Or at least Cadsuane believes that enough that she walks away at this point and leaves the actual questioning to other people. Sadly, no Merise-Narishma update.

2. lol, Perrin thinks about how he needs to overcome his single-mindedness. NOW. AFTER he has already abandoned everything, including his morals, to spend weeks chasing after Faile. Closing the barn door after the cow is already dead, essentially. Also, he doesn’t think about Masema a single time. He doesn’t spare a thought to the women he condemned to slavery either.

3. I do like Grady. He spent time with the damane during CoT/KoD, trying to talk to them about freedom. It didn’t work (he didn’t have any support) but I appreciate him trying.

4. The Aes Sedai in Salidar find out that Elaida’s Aes Sedai now have Traveling, and their tactical advantage is gone. Siuan hopes that Egwene will let them rescue her soon, because they need her.

5. *resigned sigh*. Oh, a PoV from little miss slaver. Points of interest:

still refuses to use Mat’s preferred name, even in her thoughts

constantly surrounded by slaves at every point in this chapter

spends much of the chapter mentally masturbating over how wonderful she is and how important she is to her slaves and the world

honestly, best of luck to the person who becomes Empress/Emperor Over The Sea in Seanchan proper. Rooting for you!

lol she made her Voice and personal slave/bodyguard since childhood her Truthspeaker. yeah, no conflict of interest there, lol.

is on the verge of agreeing to a slave raid on the White Tower when she gets the message that the Dragon Reborn wants to meet with her

The main difference, at least so far, between Jordan’s Tuon and Sanderson’s Tuon, is that Sanderon’s Tuon does at least seem mildly affectionate when thinking about Mat, like you might be towards a stray cat that you see every couple of months and leave food out for, maybe; and the other difference is that Sanderon’s Tuon isn’t particularly bratty, the way that CoT/KoD Tuon is (but Tuon wasn’t bratty in WH, so the difference here may be Sanderson showing that Tuon’s ~public face~ is on, so she can’t throw pottery and otherwise be childish, because she’s actually around people who matter now -- others of the Blood -- and not just around slaves and outsiders, where she cares less about looking like a child -- obsessing over how much she looked like a child was a big thing for Tuon in WH).

The thing with Tuon just in general, though is... I find her so deeply unpleasant to read about and, even worse, she makes characters that I previously liked a lot unpleasant too. Her being an invader and a slaver is an in-world reason why the other characters should dislike her, but the out-of-world reason why I dislike spending time with her is that I find her the opposite of enjoyable. She is incredibly unfun for me, and made Mat unfun too. Plenty of evil characters are fun and engaging to read but... Tuon is not one of those for me.

6. Tuon chapter followed by a Mat chapter. Will this be another chapter of resigned sighs? I do have a New Alternate Seanchan Theory: okay, my heart is definitely in the “Jordan radically changed his mind about how to handle the Seanchan between Winter’s Heart and Crossroads of Twilight because he’d thought up the outriggers” theory, but I have a new one based on Origins of the Wheel of Time!

Here’s the new theory -- the pod!Mat that was forced upon me in CoT/KoD has characterization that was based on the (edited out of the final draft) Fourth Friend Dannil Aybara, who would be “important around book 5″. This was originally going to be the second-to-last book of a six-book series and thus likely would have been when the Seanchan took a more central-ish role like they did in Winter’s Heart. Mat’s character changes so much in Crossroads of Twilight that it really does feel like Jordan just pasted another character on top of him, so I wonder if Dannil was originally going to be the “Prince of Ravens” (or potentially the “Prince of Hawks”, which would make more sense as a Seanchan symbol of royalty) and Jordan ended up merging him into Mat’s character (who was potentially originally going to get his battle knowledge from his Old Blood memories of Aemon & Manetheren rather than from the snakes & foxes). This would explain why Mat literally has Too Much Plot for a single character, leaving large Mat-shaped holes in various plotlines. Dannil was apparently a character who didn’t speak much and was generally very passive in the test manuscript for EotW (which was the whole reason that Harriet said he needed to be edited out), which really fits with how Mat behaves around Tuon in CoT & KoD. Anyway, that’s my new theory!

7. So, Ebou Dar sometimes turns men into raging sexists who despise women. The first “on page” character that Nynaeve noted in shock was actually a “man who hates women” (rather than just Jordan’s own “Men and Women are Two Separate Species Who Cannot Understand Each Other” thing) is noted as being from Ebou Dar (TFoH, I believe). Mat spends several books in Ebou Dar and turns into a raging sexist himself, and spends three pages here on what is essentially a misogynist screed about how all women are in a conspiracy against him (I have the paperback version, so it’s three pages). Ebou Dar is a place where it is culturally acceptable for men to be harassed and abused, so this is... maybe is actually something that seems like it could be a trauma response from having lived there and suffered through the culturally acceptable abuse, yes? That being said, still very unpleasant to read! So far, Mat continues to be as much of a miserable PoV as he was in CoT & KoD.

I do want to talk for a moment about how sad I am that Jordan took Mat from a man who seemed to genuinely enjoy the company of women, even if he was exasperated with individual women at times, to a man who viewed the idea of being friends with a woman as a strange and foreign concept, and then to a man who genuinely seems to dislike women and resent that he's attracted to them. And even though this speech was likely written by Sanderson, it still feels like the culmination of the build-up that JORDAN gave us in the previous books, where Mat was getting progressively more and more sexist with each book. And it's just... really sad.

I will... keep an eye on how things progress from here.

8. Mat wants to leave Altara. I ALSO wish he would leave Altara and never come back. Mat and Tuon’s sham of a relationship still makes my eyes roll real hard, so we’ve, uh, got that going for us.

9. I absolutely think less of Talmanes and everyone else in the Band for not caring that Tuon is a slaver, by the way. Reassuring Mat that his marriage won’t make him ~soft~ but not caring at all that Mat married someone who tortures people to relax is certainly A Choice. One of the things I’m going to keep an eye out for is if literally ANYONE points out to Mat “Hey, you married a SLAVER” instead of just going “lol Mat is married now” and treating Tuon being a slaver as if it were of neutral moral value (which was the thing that I hated so much about Mat’s behavior around her in Knife of Dreams, especially). And there's no way that they DON'T know that she's a slaver, given that she was picked up by a Seanchan 'rescue party' that included sul'dam and damane.

10. At least Olver seems to care about things other than women’s breasts in this book. He’s interested in the problem of sneaking into the Tower of Ghenjei now.

11. Mat is annoyed that Joline, Edesina, and Tesyln aren’t still grateful to him for saving their lives back in Ebou Dar. Dude, you’ve been a complete asshole to them for two straight books, including protecting and marrying the woman who attempted to (re)enslave them. They don’t owe you SHIT at this point. You’re lucky Joline’s Warders haven’t killed you.

12. It is... sad to me how emotionally disconnected I am from Mat at this point (after having gone through rereading CoT & KoD Mat). I just... don’t care about this version of him at all. Mat was SUCH a favorite character for me for BOOKS. And now I basically roll my eyes at his PoV chapters and feel similiarly towards him as I do Perrin. It’s a shame. On the plus side, he DID care about slavery very strongly back in Winter’s Heart, so I don’t think this apathy will affect my feelings about earlier versions of Mat. It’s just pod!Mat that I don’t care for.

...Mat does seem to have some pangs of conscience here over being such an asshole to the Aes Sedai but then he keeps, you know, doing it. So. *shrugs* We'll see where it goes.

13. Okay, Mat’s current plan is to head for Caemlyn, and then after that to go help Thom save Moiraine. But first, we have Hinderstap. I feel vaguely like this is not actually a side quest but wow it gives me such strong side quest vibes.

14. Perrin is finally actually doing Wolf stuff again (the wolf dream). He’s so out of practice that he barely even knows what he’s doing anymore. Hopper is aware that the Last Battle (the Last Hunt) is coming and wants Perrin to be prepared. He’s gonna need a LOT of prep. You have your work cut out for you, Hopper. In fact, Perrin is being so bull-headed and stubborn that Hopper just yeets him out of the dream in frustration. lol, good for you, Hopper.

15. “She had spent less than two months captive, but it had seemed like years.” Cheers to that, Faile. It felt like a fucking eternity. The plotline that refused to end. Faile thinking of Rand as “Rand” here feels fake, lol. She always liked to keep an emotional distance from him. But Faile really did ‘grow up’ over the course of the series (she was so rash way back in TDR/TSR era), while it felt like Perrin regressed. Hopper is treating him like an unruly pup for a reason!

16. lol, they’re a week out of Malden (10 days in a week in WoT) and Perrin finally thinks to wonder where Masema might have disappeared to. Anyway, Faile does not admit to killing him, instead just saying, “oh yeah probs wandered off idk”.

17. I have to admit, I feel kinda sad that Faile believes that being ‘loyal but free of oaths' is “a contradiction that only Aiel can pull off”. Lots of people are loyal without oaths being involved, Faile. It’s called friendship.

18. Perrin finally comes to terms with knowing: a. the Last Battle is coming and it’s his responsibility to actually present and b. Faile WILL BE in danger and he has to actually accept that because the entire world is in danger. Anyway, this is Sanderson basically taking Perrin and hitting a reset to before he wandered off on his Shaido side quest, because before Perrin lost all his perspective, he actually DID understand how important the Last Battle and being there with Rand was (he was the one lecturing Mat about it in TSR). And then he went on a five-book side quest where he forgot all that.

19. Shaidar Haran frees Semirhage to give her “one last chance” to prove herself to the Dark One. Elza is waiting for her, telling her that there is Compulsion in her mind (which we know was placed by Verin) that needs to be removed, and Elza also has the Dominion Bands/black a’dam for Semirhage to use on Rand. So Cadsuane, who was in charge of both Semirhage’s interrogation and keeping the a’dam secure, failed on both counts. Elza is also one of the people that Min told Rand would “serve him in her own way”, so that’s two separate viewings of Min’s that have brought harm to Rand in this one scene, because he trusted Min and followed her advice -- keeping Cadsuane as her advisor on her advice, and trusting Elza in his presence on her advice.

Min’s Actively Harmful Viewings/Interpretations count:

her viewing that “Aes Sedai will hurt you” leads to Rand fleeing Caemlyn (away from Aes Sedai who had zero malicious intent towards him) and going to Cairhien (straight into the arms of the Aes Sedai who hurt him)

telling him that he needs to keep Cadsuane around leads to Semirhage being able to use the Bands of Dominion on him, as well as allowing her general bullying behavior

telling him that Elza will serve him leads to Elza being able to help Semirhage use the Bands of Dominion on him

she tells him that Logain has an ‘aura of glory’ and attempts to poison his view of Logain by saying that she worries it means Logain will try to usurp Rand as the Dragon Reborn (Rand dismisses this when she brings it up -- good for him! but it may have contributed to him treating Logain with more suspicion than he would have otherwise).

Min would have been SO much better if she was only in the role of Rand’s Seer Who (Accidentally) Leads Him Astray rather than double-dipping as his girlfriend imo.

20. Rand gets Ituralde and Bashere settled along the border of the Blight with their soldiers (which is advancing relatively quickly). Narishma is here with him, but it doesn’t sound like Merise came along. Rand thinks here “there were no games with Min” and I genuinely laughed out loud. She spent an entire half a book playing “friends who kiss” with him in order to manipulate him into a relationship (she admits this in her OWN THOUGHTS). It is... fascinating, I guess, that it seems like a lot of readers (maybe including Sanderson?) believe Rand’s guesses about Min as non-manipulative over Min actually admitting in her own narration that she deliberately manipulated Rand into a relationship.

23. Lews Therin tells Rand that ~Min is right~ about breaking the seals. It was YOUR IDEA, Lews Therin! You had this idea books ago!

24. lol, the contradiction of Min’s existence in Rand’s life continues. “he needed to be alone. Relying on anyone would risk being weak when he reached Shayol Ghul”. You are literally snuggling your girlfriend EVERY NIGHT. Does she not count as a person?

Would spending the night with Aviendha make you feel ‘not alone’ in a way that spending the night with Min doesn’t? This is one of the big thing that I mean when I say that Min feels more like a plot device than a character. Because Rand says he needs to ‘be alone’ to be strong and then models this behavior with EVERYONE that he cares about (he thinks about how he needs to avoid his father to avoid emotional weakness in this section) except for Min, who doesn’t count as someone who makes him feel ‘not alone’, like she’s a figment of his imagination rather than another character in the world.

Everything about this would make so much more sense if Rand and Min were "Prophecy Child and his Seer egging him on" instead lovers. If Rand were in a lonely bed every night, then him thinking about how important it is that he's alone would make... some modicum of sense. If Min were Rand's Seer but not his lover, then it would be heartbreaking that Rand and Aviendha are so close but staying apart because they both believe for their own personal reasons that they Need To Be Alone. But because Rand is snuggling his personal human plushie every night, it just comes across as vaguely ridiculous when he talks about how him being alone is what makes him hard enough to make it to Shayol Ghul. Like... that's a hard comedy crosscut -- imagine Rand saying out loud, all brooding, "I must be alone. Relying on anyone risks me being weak when I go to my death," and then we SMASH CUT to him cuddling his girlfriend in bed that night. That's laugh track territory!

25. I feel like we’re supposed to feel like Rand is being ~paranoid~ about Min’s closeness to Cadsuane (especially because he immediately chastises himself for it, reminding himself that Min ~doesn’t play games~ lol) but... he’s right. She actually HAS gone behind his back and told his secrets to Cadsuane -- she spilled about both his Aes Sedai-related trauma and also told Cadsuane about being bonded to Rand. His paranoia is absolutely on point here, though he talks himself out of it. She HAS shown more trust in Cadsuane than she has in Rand. This is the same sort of issue that I ran into in Winter’s Heart, where Jordan seemed like he was clearly trying to frame Rand’s worries about Nynaeve as keeping secrets from him as “saidin-induced paranoia”... but she WAS keeping secrets from him! His best friend got left behind in enemy territory! That’s a huge secret that she was actively keeping from him! Like, idk, if Rand’s paranoia keeps being absolutely spot-on correct, it’s kinda hard for me to feel that it’s as dangerous as it feels like the author(s) want me to believe that it is.

26. Before the conversation can continue, a disguised Semirhage collars Rand, having been hidden as an elderly servant. Genuinely so ridiculous that Aviendha doesn’t get involved in this Event at all. She should feel the acute stress in Rand’s mind! The idea that she just ignores it is just... silly, and an excuse to focus only on Min. But, yes, parts of this scene are somewhat affecting to me, but I have to admit Min being very Damsel here honestly makes me roll my eyes and Aviendha not showing up makes it harder to take the scene seriously. At least Min does attempt to attack Semirhage, I guess, before she inevitably spends the rest of the scene in ~beautiful agony~ (remember, you gotta look Hot For Your Man even when you are writhing in pain! /s).

27. Semirhage talking about how satisfying wearing the Dominion Bands are, how it reminds her of the power using the a’dam gave her. Just baffling to me that we apparently aren’t supposed to view Tuon -- who finds torturing and breaking women to be a relaxing hobby -- with as much horror/disgust as we’re meant to view Semirhage. This tool of torture and subjugation that Semirhage gets off on using is the same kind of thing that Tuon enjoys so much. What Semirhage is doing to Rand here is what was done to Egwene in The Great Hunt and what Tuon and her people want to do to all women who can channel. We are given a visceral reminder here (and in Egwene’s flashbacks) of exactly how awful the world that Tuon wants to create is (she literally thinks in her own PoV section how she wants EVERY ‘marath’damane’ in the world to be in an a’dam -- though she also, of course, completely blocks out from her mind that this should include herself as well).

But in Mat’s PoV sections, we’re clearly not meant to recoil in sickened disgust that he’s willing to kiss a woman who would choose to do something like this to his friends and his sister. The line between the type of person that Semirhage is and the type of person that being a High Blood of the Seanchan Empire forges you into... it just does not seem that different to me. I feel like Tuon & the Seanchan Empire (as an institution) are the exact same kind of “Corrosive Evil but not of the Dark One” situation that happened with Aridhol/Shadar Logoth. There’s a reason that Fain felt so at home and comfortable in the atmosphere that the Seanchan created in Falme.

28. Anyway, Rand uses the True Power to break the bracelets and balefires Semirhage and Elza. It sounds like what he did was use his connection with Moridin to use MORIDIN’S connection to the Dark One in order to use the True Power (much like how Semirhage was able to use the Dominion Bands to use Rand’s saidin).

29. It’s genuinely not believable that the torrent of emotion that Rand was feeling in this scene didn’t bring Aviendha here. Rand doesn’t even note any kind of emotional response that Aviendha might be having to his emotions; it’s literally like they’re still in different countries.

30. Good news: neither Corele nor Merise were among the Sisters killed by Shaidar Haran and Elza when they went to free Semirhage! My ladies still live! Poor Daigan died, though.

31. Why wouldn’t Min ask Nynaeve to heal her bruises in this scene? This plus her “thank the Light I’m not Aes Sedai” moment that she had earlier in the book is giving me... weird vibes. (it’s kinda weird that Nynaeve doesn’t appear to have offered either)

32. Rand teaches Narishma balefire to use on the Forsaken, and Cadsuane jumps in to tell him that that she forbids its use. “I have decided that it is not [forbidden],” Rand says. I like pushed-past-his-limits Rand here, the narrative weight of it. He was forced beyond the morality line that he’d set up for himself (Don’t Kill Women, No Matter What) and now is essentially in moral freefall, but he’s still RAND and he still wants the same things (re: saving the world) that he wanted before and he still hates the same things that hated before too (he doesn’t like the Seanchan any better now). He's just been untethered from some of the limitations that he was previously holding himself to, which puts him on a dangerous balancing beam. THIS Rand actually could accidentally destroy the world while trying to save it, as the prophecies warn.

33. Cadsuane’s utter and complete failure at keeping the Bands secure snaps Rand far enough that he finally banishes her from his sight, despite Min’s viewing.

“Cadsuane,” he said softly. “Do you believe I could kill you? Right here, right now, without using a sword or the Power? Do you believe that if I willed it, the Pattern would bend around me and stop your heart? By... coincidence?”

Honestly, this moment literally had me fanning myself, both now and back when I first read it, lol. Rand has never been hotter. Something about a good person in complete moral freefall really does it for me. Some things we must just accept about ourselves, lol.

I think it’s partly... the embrace/weaponizing of the power inside him (not the Power, but his twisting luck as a ta’veren) that I like? It’s about finally unleashing the monstrous part of yourself and trying to use it for good. Dangerous! But hot! I think it’s also a bit about walking that balancing beam itself, knowing that they could fall off. But this vibe is also part of what draws me to characters like Anakin Skywalker or the various Atreides (Paul, Alia, etc) -- or why I like vampires & werewolves in that sort of fantasy setting.

34. Cadsuane has a somewhat vaguely hilarious moment of regret here -- now that she’s seen THIS version of Rand, she realizes how good she had it with the previous version of Rand. Previous Rand was willing to give her an infinite number of chances (because of Min asking him to) but this Rand is just done with her and out of patience.

35. There’s kind of a funny progression with “Egwene is Amrylin” basically every time someone (who knew her before) learns the information - “Um wtf she’s just an Accepted”; “Oh no she’s a pawn”; “Oh actually she seems to have things in hand”. And that makes... a lot of sense? Of course people who actually knew her are usually startled when they first find out, because their most recent previous knowledge is that she was in the ‘student’ category. People don’t instantly process information from zero to sixty. Egwene herself assumed when she was summoned by the Salidar Aes Sedai that she was being summoned as an Accepted being punished. I feel like a lot of characters end up getting flack for being startled by Egwene being Amyrlin (and not being a puppet Amrylin) but those assumptions make a lot of sense on first blush, given what they know about Egwene (student) and what they know about Aes Sedai (big on tradition). Anyway, Gawyn has pushed past Stage One and is into Stage Two of “Egwene is Amrylin”.

36. Gareth and Gawyn have a big clash of conflicting information when they talk (and most of Gareth’s information is much more recent and more accurate than Gawyn’s, though still clouded by his own perspective) -- Gawyn finds out that Elayne holds the Lion Throne, is told that Rand held Andor together (chooses not to believe it), is told Morgase exiled Gareth on pain of death (chooses to believe she must have had a reason). Gawyn has been sheltered from a LOT of information of current events during all this tbh. They both accuse the other one of not being in Caemlyn when they should be, lol. They ARE the pointing Spider-man meme.

37. Sheriam gets orders from one of the Forsaken that Egwene must be deposed as Amrylin, not having proven to be as pliable as hoped. She feels pretty bitter/regretful about her life choices -- she became a Darkfriend so that she could enact petty revenge on her rivals and work her way up the Tower ladder faster! Not to actually have to be in the Last Battle! Haha, sorry bb.

38. Egwene is now in a teeny-tiny cell in the dungeons, though she is still allowed visitors at times. She’s told that Elaida will face a trial for her abuse of Power against a Tower initiate but the consequences wouldn’t remove her from the Amyrlin Seat. Egwene braces herself to fight as best as she can from inside her cell (tbh, at this point, I actually DO kinda feel like she should tell her Aes Sedai followers that it’s time to rescue her so she can continue her work outside the walls? She’s planted a ton of seeds inside the Tower and now her options have been SEVERELY restricted; leaving the Tower would give her more choices in how to maneuver).

#wot reread #the gathering storm #wot #wheel of time #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #mat cauthon #seanchan warning #rand al'thor #gawyn trakand

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 1 year

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This gets long. It continues my obsession with old Edinburgh Fringe Festival videos. It is of interest to no one in the world besides me.

Okay, the situation is: I’ve just gotten back from a wonderful week-long vacation by the ocean, I am now home where there is no ocean, I’m starting a new job tomorrow, I’m very anxious about it (I did just start another new job a couple of months ago, but I was so desperate for a job at the time that I’d applied for everything and took the first thing I was offered, then something I wanted more came back and offered me something so I took that instead, now I start that other thing tomorrow, I would feel bad for leaving my old job so soon except that they were doing a lot of illegal shit that I cannot get into in one Tumblr post but just trust me that they broke far too many labour laws to deserve my loyalty, this is getting off topic). I just spent some time very carefully going through the Cowgate video to find a screenshot that could be my new cover image, I ended up going with this:

That was taken from this video, of an event that I refer to as Cowgate, due to it being a cow-related scandal that also took place near the Edinburgh neighbourhood of Cowgate:

youtube

I had to go through that video to find the screenshot, and this reminded me of how many questions I have about it, so I have decided to distract myself from new job anxiety by writing a post that lists just a few of my top 200 questions about that fucking video. Let’s go through it, shall we? It’s been a while since I’ve done a post that self-indulgently goes into great detail about that video that no one in the world want to think about nearly as much as I do. Not that I’ve never done that before. But it’s been a while, and that'll be a good distraction.

Essential, all-encompassing question: Where did they get the cow?

There are several possible classes of answer here, all of which inspire different follow-ups. As far as I can see, there are two overall possibilities: the cow was there when they arrived and they did not plan it, or they specifically procured a cow for this purpose. I think it’s more likely to be the former, because at the beginning of this video (a video that I put together myself, by the way, cutting out things from two different videos that I got on YouTube, because somehow this was captured twice and uploaded to YouTube by two totally separate accounts, and I combined them), you see Daniel Kitson sitting on the cow at what seems to be the beginning of the night, and he seems to be figuring out what it is along with the audience.

If it’s the former: How did it get there? Who put it there? Why did they put it there? Where did they get it? How did they feel about it being destroyed?

Did the Chocolate Milk Gang know it would be there before they arrived? If so, did they plan its destruction in advance? If the answer to one or both those questions is no, when and how did the plan formulate? How did they work out that they were allowed to do it? Presumably you can’t just destroy shit that’s on stage without consulting someone. Did they consult someone while the show was happening? Does that explain why the weapons they used all look like things they might have found backstage at the last minute? Why someone walks in during the scene and hands John Oliver a metal pipe like one out of the game Clue/Cluedo? That would make more sense if they had not prepared this beforehand.

Here's one theory of mine on that’s subject: I think the plan was formulated sometime after the first clip in this video, when the audience was shouting challenges at Kitson for things he should do with the cow (ride it, touch it, jump off it), and he told them their challenges were too easy. I think that after the camera stopped filming, the audience started issuing more difficult challenges, and one of those challenges was to rip it in half.

Another question if that’s the case: How were they initially planning to end that night? What got bumped for last-minute cow destruction?

But all my theories could be wrong. They all have the issue that I’m not sure you can get permission to destroy a large installation once a show has already started. So maybe it was the latter of those initial options, and they did plan it beforehand. Which brings up lots of other questions, such as: Why? Who thought of it? Why? What were the plans leading up to it? I still want to know where they got the cow, and how they got permission to bring it to the Gilded Balloon and destroy it on stage.

All of that can be summarized in two main questions: “Where did the cow come from?” and “How did the plan to destroy the cow come about?” But there’s another main, overarching question, which is: “What the fuck was the plan? What were they actually doing?”

I mean, clearly they were trying to destroy the cow. But why? What were the parametres of the challenge? Adam Hills says they have “three chances”, and they’ll either succeed or “bottle it”. Does that mean they tried two other times earlier in the night to destroy the cow, and only succeeded on this third attempt? That’s pretty good, if so, because this is clearly the end of the night (you see Kitson come out afterward to introduce the band, signifying that comedy is over). So it’s some good narrative planning if they managed to space out two failed attempts and then got it right at the end.

That might explain why Kitson got involved. At first he’s hanging back, just doing hype with Adam Hills. At some point, it looks to me like he figures out they’ll be here all night if he leaves them to it. He starts giving specific advice – Adam Hills is yelling Eminem songs at them, and Daniel Kitson starts saying helpful things like “combine the chisel at the hammer”. It’s shortly after that that he, as far as I can tell, decides they won’t manage this without him, even though he’s tried to tell them how to do it, so he jumps in there and helps. That would make even more sense if they'd tried this twice before and it hadn't worked, they'd agreed on some sort of challenge (with the audience, maybe) in which they had to do it in three tries, also it was the end of the night and the last night of the Festival and they wanted to get it fucking done.

I might be wrong, it's difficult to tell, but I think Daniel Kitson was right to think they needed him, because he's the one who actually ended up breaking it. I've tried to figure this out before, mainly because I've decided I desperately want a Taskmaster one-off live task someday in which they wheel the Taskmaster cow on stage in the studio in front of these five people and tell them that the first person to break it in half wins. So even though it was a collective effort, I want to know who actually would win if this were a Taskmaster task. And I think it may have been Kitson. You can see him kick it pretty hard, then hit it once with his hammer, and then it immediately comes apart and he throws his hands in the air in celebration:

It might have been too much of a joint effort to give the points to any one person, though. John using leverage definitely helped.

The other option for what “three chances” means is it was only meant to be three people trying to destroy the cow: David O’Doherty, Demetri Martin, and John Oliver. That would mean they didn’t really succeed in their challenge, since Daniel Kitson ended up helping. But I don’t know if it really makes sense – do three people working together and concurrently count as three separate chances?

Look, let’s go through the lyrics to really understand everything going on here. From Mr. Adam Hills:

If you had three chances... Would you take 'em? Or would you quite literally bottle it?

I've covered the "three chances" thing already; I don't quite know what he means by that. But I'm also not sure what he means by "bottle it". I know that's slang for fucking things up, but why would they literally bottle it? The use of the words "quite literally" imply that an actual bottle is somehow involved in this. I have no idea how.

His palms are sweaty, his hair is sweaty, He's ready to shoot spaghetti

This is a sort of parody ("parody" might be a word that gives it more credit than it deserves) of Lose Yourself by Eminem, obviously, since that's the beat that's playing in the background. I point this out only because it comes back later, when he starts singing a different Eminem song, having apparently forgotten which one he was supposed to be doing.

He's got a cow on stage It's got red horns, it's all the rage

I find those lyrics worth mentioning because here's another video from earlier in that same night (one that I also put together by combing clips from two separate YouTube videos):

youtube

Adam Hills is freestyle rapping there, but he got the idea of rhyming "stage" with "all the rage" from David O'Doherty, who had used the same rhyme in his own on-the-spot rapping earlier in that same Late 'n' Live show.

It's cow tipping, it's not quite shitty Get that cow down in this city Take it up the Royal Mile, attack it with a hammer

The Royal Mile is a stretch of road in Edinburgh that I think is meant to be a central hub of people and bars and whatever wild things happen during that festival. In the YouTube comments of one of those videos (the original one, that I cut up to make the one linked in this post), someone said they did, in fact, carry the broken cow up the Royal Mile after they'd crowd surfed it out of the building. So apparently enough planning had gone into it beforehand so that they knew, at this point, that that's what they wanted to do. Maybe that was part of the challenge? They had to break the cow in half and then carry it up the Royal Mile?

At this point I will skip a few lines, because even I cannot bring myself to type out every word that Adam Hills said around the line "fuck the udder", but I do find it very funny to watch Adam Hills getting really into his role as hype man, while Daniel Kitson watches beside him, tries to look like he's also playing the hype man because that's what he's supposed to do, but he knows he needs to also be actually paying attention to how the whole thing's going and making sure to keep it on track. He's trying to look as though he's fully thrown himself into it and isn't putting any effort into controlling the gig, whereas Adam, I think, has genuinely thrown himself too far into it to keep anything on track. Does that say something about their different styles of comedy and/or compering? Possibly. Adam Hills definitely grew into a host who could keep a live show on track (and has done it on many Fridays for many years), but it never seems as natural for him as it does for Kitson to have one eye on appearing to be fully caught up in stuff, and one eye on keeping tight control over the situation.

Anyway, the result is Adam yelling increasingly nonsensical shit around the words "fuck the udder", and then Kitson puts one hand over his mouth and one in the air in an exaggerated parody of a hype man, but what he actually says is:

Davey, Davey, what you need to do is combine the chisel and the hammer

Not hype. Genuine advice designed to get this done so they can win the challenge and get out of here. I find it quite funny how David O'Doherty was diligently focused on the cow for the whole time, until Kitson yelled that at him, when he suddenly stopped and looked up like "Oh... right, yes, I'll get right on that."

I also enjoy the way John Oliver looked up at him too while he was yelling this helpful advice, like, yep, that's the guy I'm on the same page with, the one who will do the rapping but only with full awareness that it's all bullshit and we just need to accomplish the task and go get milkshakes:

There’s Martin, Demetri Martin The Perrier win has left me smartin’

That is a reference to something that would have just happened, as this is the last night of the Fringe Festival and I assume they do awards at the end. Adam Hills had, in fact, been nominated for the Perrier Award that year, but Demetri Martin had beaten him. He had also been nominated the previous year, and lost to Daniel Kitson. And he'd been nominated the year before that, and lost to Garth Marenghi (Matthew Holness and Richard Ayoade). After 2003, he was no longer eligible for the award, putting him in the James Acaster class of people who were nominated several times but never won (not as many times as Acaster, but still).

John Oliver, he’s the man If that pipe won’t do it nothing can

You could make a lot of money if you put that on t-shirts and sold them. People won't even need to know the context.

David O-ha-doch-her-ty He comes from Ireland, the land of the green Daniel Kitson, he’s got a hammer He’s also got one motherfucking stammer

I mean, the way he added several extra syllables to DO'D's name so it'll scan for a song is still far from the least accurate pronunciation of that name that I've heard. What I like about this part is how absolutely no one reacts. They are all so engrossed in their cow destroying task, no one even looks up at Adam. DO'D doesn't want to engage with whether Ireland should be reduced to "the land of the green". Kitson does not retort about his stutter. Martin won't be drawn into competitiveness about the Perrier Award. They all have a very important job to do and will not be distracted.

It's time break this cow down It’s time to break this cow down It’s not time to chow down It’s time to break this cow down

Is anyone else beginning to suspect that Adam Hills may not have been 100% sober during the recording of this video? Though it is worth noting that the Chocolate Milk Gang got their name because they drank milkshakes instead of alcohol after late-night Edinburgh shows. Stewart Lee called it "a cult of abstinence built around Daniel Kitson" - which probably says more about Stewart Lee than anything else, if he thinks not getting drunk every night is a cult, but still. I think that means that the Chocolate Milk Gang members in this video (Kitson, Oliver, O'Doherty, Martin) all were sober they whole time they were taking apart the cow.

Late 'n' Live, Late 'n' Live, it's the very last night It's time to wrap this show up tight Send out the front, send out... Break the cow, break it in half Lead it out the front to the path

Another reference to bringing it out the door. So that must have been part of the challenge from the beginning, not something the audience spontaneously did. Break it in half, crowd surf it out, take it up the Royal Mile. But why?

Karen Koren, she's outside She's got petrol dripping down her eyes There was a fire at the Gilded Balloon The police found no one else was to blame If this season doesn't go well This fucking venue's going up in flames

Okay, it took me a while to work out the meaning of this part, but I know it now. Karen Koren was (and still is) the owner of the Gilded Balloon venue, which hosted (and still hosts) Late 'n' Live, a show that runs late into the night during multiple nights (most nights or maybe even all of them, I get the impression, at least back then, but I'm not entirely sure of that) of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Late 'n' Live has one person hosting all night, bringing on different comedians who do different stuff throughout the night, the lineup changes depending on availability and other stuff. Then when they're done (around 3 AM, I think, at least back then), they bring out a band to play and it becomes a dance floor. Daniel Kitson hosted it for several years in the late 90s/early 00s, and that's what was happening here, in 2003. It was, as Adam Hills said earlier, the "very last night" of the 2003 Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and this was that night's Late 'n' Live show, hosted by Kitson with all these other comedians around throughout the night. That's all useful context.

In late 2002, there was a fire in Cowgate, which is the neighbourhood in Edinburgh where the original Gilded Ballon was. The Gilded Balloon burned down, and was rebuilt nearby. So this event, less than a year later, is taking place in the rebuilt version.

So here's what Adam Hills was saying (jokingly, it's worth clarifying) with that verse: Karen Koren, owner of this building, is currently outside with petrol. If this year's shows at the Gilded Balloon don't go well enough to make as much money as she wants, she'll burn the building down (I guess for the insurance money or something, to make up for insufficient revenue). He's implying that that's how the previous year's fire happened, the police incorrectly found no one to blame, and she'll do it again if they don't make her happy.

The cow's in half, the cow's in half Let's hear it for the cow in half! My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Get out of bed at all The morning sun goes up my window, and I can't see at all Even if I could it'll all be grey But your picture on the wall Reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad...

All those lines after "Let's hear it for the cow in half" are from the Eminem song Stan, which is a different song from Lose Yourself, the one he was doing at the beginning. It is funny that Adam Hills forgot what Eminem song he was singing and started doing the wrong one. But it's not shocking. Because here's a clip from 4 at the Fringe, a BBC Radio 4 show that was recorded at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival - this episode was recorded at the Fringe in 2003, with Adam Hills compering, and here is doing some of his material between a couple of the acts:

At the Fringe Festival in 2003, Adam Hills had a bit in which he sang some of the Eminem song Stan. I assume all the bits he did during his compering were taken from his larger set that year, which means he'd have been doing that nearly every night for a month, every time he performed. So it was in his head. When he was, I'm going to guess, drunk, and he was on stage and hearing Eminem, he just automatically started singing Stan because he'd been doing it all month.

Crowd surf the cow, people.

Once the cow is broken in half and being crowd surfed out of there, Daniel Kitson high fives Demetri Martin and David O'Doherty, turns around to high five John Oliver, then hugs Adam Hills, like a sports team that's just won a big game. Great work everyone, real strong teamwork out there, couldn't have done it without you all, okay, hit the showers.

It is, and this is only the slightest of exaggerations, the cutest shit I've ever seen.

This video is going to haunt me for the rest of my fucking life. It's keeping me awake at night. If I could ask any of those comedians one question, my brain would pass by all the interesting intellectual things I want to know about some of my favourite creators of valuable works of artistic merit in the world, would give up the chance to learn anything about any of that, just to ask, "Where did you get the fucking cow?"

#Youtube

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zaptap · 1 year

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i absolutely think we're due for unova remakes very soon, likely as the next game, but idk if they'll announce them before sv dlc is out of the way. seems like more of a pokemon day "this is what we're throwing out there this year" thing

seen people clinging to the idea that they do remakes every other gen but, so far, ALL first-time remakes (i.e. not lgpe) have happened 2 hardware generations after the originals

gb (rgby) to gba (frlg)

gbc (gsc) to ds (hgss)

gba (rse) to 3ds (oras)

ds (dpp and bwbw2) to switch (bdsp.... and _b_w?)

the ds was just when they started cramming 2 pokemon gens into one hardware gen so now that we're getting into ds remakes they'll probably happen every pokemon gen now

and if they continue having ilca or whoever churn out unambitious remakes then maybe game freak will keep putting legends games out around the same time.

arceus felt to me like it had pieces of what we've come to expect from pokemon remakes--the new stuff--so i think of it as being in a remake-adjacent category i'm calling a "reimagining." meanwhile bdsp avoided having much new stuff and instead provided an overly faithful recreation of the original games with graphical upgrades and gameplay modernizations and little else

are they going to do another ilca remake paired with a legends game? maybe. since legends was kind of an experiment, and succeeded, maybe they could try to work some elements into the actual remake this time. also after how glitchy bdsp was (more specifically, all the weird stuff they had to do with home compatibility to stop those Evil Cheaters) maybe they won't trust ilca with that again. or maybe they'll give them another chance, since game freak started out with a glitch-filled game too and maybe they've learned? idk

and what about bw2? so far they've been able to put things into the remakes to reflect things from the third versions (though bdsp really could've had a lot more from platinum) but how do you do an entire extra story with different protagonists and a 2 year time skip? they can't get away with just giving us bw2 outfits. $60 absolutely should cover both bw and bw2 in one, but i kind of doubt they'll do it. dlc maybe i guess? though that was a popular theory for platinum in bdsp that went nowhere, so who knows

alternatively i suppose they could release a bw remake as a single game and bw2 as another (remember how bdsp was found to be the same rom, just with a marker that determined the version? it would kind of make sense to do) but also that's kind of insane because you've never been expected to buy both games before, but in this scenario you'd have to to get the full experience. evil. too evil for tpci i think, but i suppose they could always get worse. i guess in that sense having a dual release of b+b2/w+w2 seems a bit more likely, dlc or not? if they don't almost entirely ignore bw2, that is

either way, i'm expecting unova soon. one week before black friday 2024 if tpci keeps insisting on their blatantly money-hungry release schedule they've been sticking pretty closely to for almost a decade now. would prefer they take more time, but i don't expect them to

........wait. i forgot. it actually might be johto's turn next. hgss is older than gen v, after all. whether that's going to be something with pokemon go elements mixed in again (isn't that game kind of on a decline now? idk) or something different, they might do something

so i guess 2024 johto, 2025 unova? wow idk. who give a shit tbh. point is both are probably somewhere on the horizon (though, unova is more certain i'd say since lgpe is just one game so we have no idea what kind of pattern those second-round remakes might take. maybe it was just a one-off)

anyway i've been wanting to replay gen v more and more for the past couple years but i haven't been able to make time for it yet. odds are i won't until at least when the remakes are coming. i replayed platinum shortly before bdsp released (actually started a couple months before it was announced...) and that was a mistake. bdsp was ok (though bad by pokemon standards) but it felt like playing the same game back to back except worse (very different from when i played ruby before oras, and yellow before lgpe). don't want to do that again so i guess i'll wait at this point

#pokemon #unova #pokemon presents #bwbw2

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arodrwho · 6 years

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avantikass replied to your post “the fjord section…of the nott hands fic………..compleete”

let me know when it's ready to be read I'm really excited

!! will do! :D

#avantikass #it should be soon In Theory but might be another couple weeks #(i am 1 whole slowpoke)#but in any case will send a link your way when is done!

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c-is-for-circinate · 3 years

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For a long, large part of my life, being queer in a media landscape--finding queerness in a media landscape--has meant theft.

I'm a Fandom Old, somehow, these days, older than most and younger than some, in that way that's grown associated with grumpy crotchetyness and shotguns on porches and back in my day, we had to wade through our Yahoo Groups mailing lists uphill both ways, boring and irrelevant anecdotes from Back In Those Days when homophobia clearly worked differently than it does now, probably because we weren't trying hard enough. I've seen a lot of stories through the years. I've read a lot of fanfic. (More days than not, for the past twenty years. I've read a lot of fanfic.)

When people my age start groaning and sighing at conversations about representation and queerbaiting, when we roll our eyes and drag all the old war stories out again in the face of AO3 is terrible and Not Good Enough, so often what we say is: you Young Folks Today have no idea how hard, how scary, how limiting it was to be queer anywhere Back In Those Days. Including online, maybe especially online, including in a media landscape that hated us so much more than any one you've ever known. And that is true. Always and everywhere, again and again, it's true, we remember, it's true.

We don't talk so much about the joy of it.

Online fan spaces were my very first queer communities, ever. I was thirteen, I was fourteen, I was fifteen--I was a lonely, over-precocious "gifted kid" two years too young for my grade level in an all-girls' Catholic school in the suburbs--I lived in a world where gay people were a rumor and an insult and a news story about murder. I was straight, of course, obviously, because real people were straight and anyway I was weird enough already--I couldn't be two things strange, couldn't be gay too, but--well, I could read the stories. I could feel things about that. I would have those stories to help me, a few years later, when I knew I couldn't call myself straight any more.

And those stories were theft. There was never any doubt about that. We wrote disclaimers at the top of every fic, with the specter of Anne Rice's lawyers around every corner. We hid in back-corners of the internet, places you could only find through a link from a link from a link on somebody else's recs page, being grateful for the tiny single-fandom archives when you found them, grateful for the webrings where they existed. It was theft, all of it, the stories about characters we did not own, the videotaped episodes on your best friend's VHS player, one single episode pulled off of Limewire over the course of three days.

It was theft, we knew, to even try and find ourselves in these stories to begin with. How many fics did I read in those days about two men who'd always been straight, except for each other, in this one case, when love was stronger than sexual orientation? We stole our characters away from the heterosexual lives they were destined to have. We stole them away from writers and producers and TV networks who work overtime to shower them in Babes of the Week, to pretend that queerness was never even an option. This wasn't given to us. This wasn't meant for us. This wasn't ours to have, ever, ever in the first place. But we took it anyway.

And oh, my friends, it was glorious.

We took it. We stole. And again and again, for years and years and years, we turned that theft into an art. We looked for every opening, every crack in every sidewalk where a little sprout of queerness might grow, and we claimed it for our own and we grew whole gardens. We grew so sly and so skilled with it, learning to spot the hints of oh, this could be slashy in every new show and movie to come our way. Do you see how they left these character dynamics here, unattended on the table? How ripe they are for the pocketing. Here, I'll help you carry them. We'll make off with these so-called straight boys, and we only have to look back if somebody sets out another scene we want for our own.

We were thieves, all of us, and that was fine and that was fair, because to exist as queer in the world was theft to begin with. Stolen time, stolen moments--grand larceny of the institution of marriage, breaking and entering to rob my mother's hopes for grandchildren. Every shoplifted glance at the wrong person in the locker room (and it didn't matter if we never peeked, never dared, they called us out on it anyway). Every character in every fic whose queerness became a crime against this ex-wife, that new love interest. Every time we dared steal ourselves away from the good straight partners we didn't want to date.

And: we built ourselves a den, we thieves, wallpapered in stolen images and filled to the brim with all the words we'd written ourselves. We built ourselves a home, and we filled it with joy. Every vid and art and fic, every ship, every squee. Over and over, every straight boy protagonist who abandoned all womankind for just this one exception with his straight boy protagonist partner found gay orgasms and true love at the end.

Over and over, we said: this isn't ours, this isn't meant to be ours, you did not give this to us--but we are taking it anyway. We will burglarize you for building blocks and build ourselves a palace. These stories and this place in the world is not for us, but we exist, and you can't stop us. It's ours now, full of color and noise, a thousand peoples' ideas mosaic'ed together in celebration. We made this, and it will never be just yours again. You won't ever truly get it back, no matter how many lawyers you send, not completely. We keep what we steal.

Things shifted over time, of course. That's good. That's to be celebrated. Nobody should have to steal to survive. It should not be a crime, should not feel like a crime, to find yourself and your space in the world.

There were always content creators who could slip a little wink in when they laid out their wares, oh what's this over here, silly me leaving this unattended where anybody could grab it, of course there might be more over by the side door if you come around the alleyway (but if anybody asks, you didn't get this from ME). We all watched Xena marry Gabrielle, in body language and between the lines. We sat around and traded theories and rumors about whether the people writing Due South knew what they were doing when they sent their buddy cops off into the frozen north alone together at the end of the show, if they'd done it on purpose, if they knew. But over the years, slowly, thankfully, the winks became less sly.

A teenage boy put his hand on another teenage boy's hand and said, you move me, and they kissed on network TV, in a prime-time show, on FOX, and the world didn't burn down. Here and there, where they wanted to, where they could without getting caught by their bosses and managers, content creators stopped subtly nudging people around the back door and started saying, "Here. This is on offer here too, on purpose. You get to have this, too."

And of course, of course that came with a whole host of problems too. Slide around to the back door but you didn't get this from me turned into it's an item on our special menu, totally legit, you've just got to ask because the boss throws a fit if we put it out front. Shopkeepers and content creators started advertising on the sly, come buy your fix here!, hiding the fine print that says you still have to take what you've purchased home and rebuild it with your semi-legal IKEA hacks. Maybe they'll consider listing that Destiel or Sterek as a full-service menu item next year. Is that Crowley/Aziraphale the real thing or is it lite?

And those problems are real and the conversations are worth having, and it's absolutely fair to be frustrated that you can't find the ship you want on sale in anything like your color and size in a vast media landscape packed full of discount hetships and fast-fashion m/f. It's fair to be angry. It's fair to be frustrated. Queerbait is a word that exists for a reason.

There's a part of me that hurts, though, every time the topic comes up. It's a confusing, bad-mannered part of me, but it's still very real. And it's not because I'm fawning for crumbs, trying to be the Good, Non-Threatening Gay. It's not that I'm scared and traumatized by the thought of what might happen if we dare raise our voices and ask for attention. (Well. Not mostly. I'll always remember being quiet and scared and fifteen, but it's been a long two decades since then. I know how to ask for a hell of a lot more now.)

It's because I remember that cozy, plush-wallpapered den of joyful thieves. I remember you keep what you steal.

Every single time--every time--when a story I love sets a couple of characters out on a low, unguarded table, perfectly placed to be pilfered on the sly and taken home and smushed together like a couple of dolls, my very first thought is always, always joy. Always, that instinct says, yay! Says, this is ours now. As soon as I go home and crawl into that pillow-fort den, my instincts say, I will surely find people already at work combing through spoils and finding new ways to combine them, new ways to make them our own. I know there's fic for that. I've already seen fic for that, and I wasn't really interested last time, but the new store display's got my brain churning, and I can't wait to see what the crew back at the hideout does with this.

Every time, that's where my brain goes. And oh, when I realize the display's put out on purpose, that somebody snuck in a legitimate special menu item, when the proprietor gives me the nod and wink and says, you don't have to come around the side, I know it's not much but here--there is so much joy and relief and hope in me from that! Oh, what we can make with these beautiful building blocks. Oh what a story we can craft from the pieces. Oh, the things we can cobble together. Look at that, this one's a little skimpy on parts but we can supplement it, this one's got a whole outline we can fill in however we want. This one technically comes semi-preassembled, and that's boring as shit and a pain to take back apart, but that's fine, we'll manage. We're artists and thieves. I bet someone's pulling out the AU saw to cut it to pieces already.

And then I get back to our den, which has moved addresses a dozen times over the years and mostly hangs out on Tumblr now (and the roof leaks and the landlord's sketchy as fuck but at least they don't charge rent, and we've made worse places our own). And I show up, ready for joy--ready for a dozen other people who saw that low-hanging fruit on that unguarded table, who got the nod and wink about the special menu item, who're ready to get so excited about this newest haul. Did you see what we picked up? The theft was so easy, practically begging to be stolen. The last owner was an idiot with no idea what to do with it. The last owner knew exactly what it could become, bless their heart, under a craftsman with more time on their hands, so they looked away on purpose at just the right time to let me take it home. I show up every time ready for our space, the place that fed me on joy and self-confidence when I was fifteen and starving. The place that taught me, yes, we are thieves, because it is RIGHT to take what we need, and the beautiful things we create are their own justification. We are thieves, and that's wonderful, because nothing is handed to us and that means we get to build our own palaces. We get to keep everything we steal.

I go home, and even knowing the world is different, my instincts and heart are waiting for that. And I walk in the door, and I look at my dash, and I glance over at twitter, and--

And people are angry, again. Angry at the slim pickings from the hidden special menu. So, so tired and angry, at once again having to steal.

And they're right to be! Sometimes (often, maybe) I think they're angry at the wrong people--more angry with the shopkeeper who offers the bite-sized sampler platter of side characters or sneaks their queer content in on the special menu than the ones who don't include it at all. But it's not wrong to be mad that Disney's once again advertising their First Gay Character only to find out it's a tiny sprinkle of a one-line extra on an otherwise straight sundae. It's not wrong to be furious at the world because you've spent your whole life needing to be a thief to survive. It's far from wrong. I'm angry about it too.

But this was my den of thieves, my chop shop, my makerspace. Growing up in fandom, I learned to pick the locks on stories and crack the safes of subtext at the very same time I learned to create. They were the same thing, the same art. We are thieves, my heart says, we are thieves, and that's what makes us better than the people we steal from. We deconstruct every time we create. We build better things out of the pieces.

And people are angry that the pre-fab materials are too hard to find, the pickings too slim, the items on sale too limited? Yes, of course they are, of course they should be--but my heart. Oh, my heart. Every single time, just a little bit, it breaks.

Of course the stories are terrible (they have always been terrible). Of course they are, but we are thieves. We steal the best parts and cobble them back together and what we make is better than it was before. The craftsman's eye that cases a story for weak points, for blank spaces, for anywhere we can fit a crowbar and pry apart this casing--that's skill and art and joy. Of course we shouldn't have to, of course we shouldn't have to, but I still love it. I still want it, crave it. I still thrill every time I see it, a story with hairline cracks that we can work open with clever hands to let the queer in.

That used to be cause for celebration, around here. I ask him to go back to the ruins of Aeor with me, two men together alone on an expedition in the frozen north, it feels like a gift. And I understand why some people take it as an insult. I understand not good enough. I understand how something can feel like a few drops of water to someone dying of thirst, like a slap in the face. If it was so easy to sneak it hidden onto the special menu, to place it on the unguarded side table for someone else to run off to, why not let it sit out front and center in the first place? I know it's frustrating. It should be. We should fight. We should always fight. I know why.

But my heart, oh, my heart. My heart only knows what it's been taught. My heart sees, this thing right here, the proprietor left it there for you with a nod and a wink because they Get It. It's not put together yet, but it's better that way anyway. It's so full of pieces to pull apart and reassemble. I bet they've got a whole mosaic wall going up at home already. We can bring it home and make it OURS, more than it was ever theirs, forget half of what it came from and grow a new garden in what remains.

And I go home to find anger, and my heart breaks instead.

#I don't actually know how to tag this #representation #maybe?#C needs help feeding the dinosaurs #because this is very much about being a fandom old #probably also #driveby meta attack #because that's where I keep my impromptu rambles #CR spoilers #technically I guess?#there's one line that references the finale #fandom history

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

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I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.

Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?

In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.

But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.

Or so he tells himself.

“Slut”

“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him

“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”

Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”

It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.

“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”

But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.

He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.

You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.

The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.

You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.

He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.

It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.

But then, he speaks.

“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”

His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.

Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.

“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.

He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.

A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.

You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.

It drives Dabi crazy.

He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.

But your silence is something he’s not used to.

Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.

You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.

You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.

So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.

“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”

Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.

“And Dabi?”

“What about him?”

She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”

“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”

“He likes you.”

You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”

The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.

“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”

You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.

“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”

No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.

You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.

“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”

“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.

“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”

Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”

“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”

And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.

You were fucked.

And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.

“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.

You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.

No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.

He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.

“After you.”

You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.

A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.

Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.

You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.

“Dabi.”

“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”

He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.

You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned

“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“

“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”

In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.

But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.

So he does exactly what one does as a villain.

Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”

You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.

“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”

You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.

He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.

So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.

Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.

You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.

He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.

Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

“Dabi, wait, please stop-“

But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.

“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”

He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .

Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.

But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.

You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.

And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .

#dabi imagine #yandere dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha smut #yandere dabi #tw: noncon #touya #bnha touya #touya todoroki #Dabi #dabi x reader

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strwberri-milk · 2 years

Text

Don't We Have Chemistry?

AO3 || TA!AU || Kaeya x Reader || Fluff || 2,305 words M.List

Kaeya Alberich, local biology lab TA falls in love with the person who almost broke his toe via theory textbook.

Chapter 2: E-Mail Your E-Boy

BIOL 2XX - LAB INTRODUCTION

[email protected]

To: Kaeya Alberich

Hello Kaeya,

I was wondering if your offer to go over the things we went over on the first day is still open? I know it’s been a couple of weeks since then but I’ve been struggling with knowing where the equipment is, how to use some of it, and other things. I understand if you’re busy, or if you can’t do a one-on-one session with me but if you can that’d be great.

Regards,

[Name]

Kaeya groans. Hangovers were not being friendly to him.

He hears his phone buzz, not sure if it’s because he left something of his in someone else’s room, or if someone actually needs his attention. The icon for his university email makes him roll his eyes, about to roll back into bed when he realises your name is attached to it.

Quickly, he sits up, running to his washroom to wash off his face and make sure his brain is working enough to respond properly to your email. He opens his laptop and finds the information he needs, pumping his fist in victory when he sees an open slot for today.

Thankfully, he could power through this headache with a Tylenol and the sheer chance that he could see you today. Sure you two barely talked but that didn’t mean he wasn’t doing his best to change that. Unfortunately for him you always ran away as soon as you could, leaving him at a loss for words. How was he supposed to woo you if he couldn’t even talk to you?

RE: BIOL 2XX - LAB INTRODUCTION

[email protected]

To: [F. Name] [L. Name]

Hey!

I just looked at the lab schedule. One of the classes is cancelled today and I have permission to use the labs whenever as long as I don’t do anything stupid. If you’re free around three I’ll give you another introduction to the lab that you definitely should have paid attention to :P. How does that sound?

Kaeya.

Kaeya stares at his phone a little more. Maybe that sounded mean. But then again, he added the little emoticon. Wouldn’t that take off some of the edge? He decides it’s good enough as it is, sending it off.

RE:BIOL 2XX - LAB INTRODUCTION

[email protected]

To: Kaeya Alberich

Hello,

Thank you! I’m so sorry about any inconvenience this may have caused you. I will be free then and can meet you at the lab.

Apologies in advance,

[Name].

“Ouch,” he says to himself.

“Okay. I sounded a little too harsh.” He sighs and lays back in his bed, wondering how to respond.

RE: BIOL 2XX - LAB INTRODUCTION

[email protected]

To: [F. Name] [L. Name]

Don’t worry about it! Besides, how can I resist my favourite student~?

It feels a little better to him. Besides, you really were struggling. Your grades weren’t bad by any means, but they definitely weren’t high. He saw the look on your face when he handed back your lab quiz. Disappointment mixed with a bit of determination. You wanted to do better for yourself. Kaeya could respect that, especially since the little pout you make did wonders to his heart.

RE:BIOL 2XX - LAB INTRODUCTION

[email protected]

To: Kaeya Alberich

This email is technically monitored by the university. I suggest you refrain from saying things that can be misinterpreted and get us both placed under academic misconduct.

[Name].

He frowns. You no longer sounded hurt from his last message but you also weren’t entertaining his foolishness. Maybe you would when you see him in person.

RE: BIOL 2XX - LAB INTRODUCTION

[email protected]

To: [F. Name] [L. Name]

I’ll see you in a bit! Remember to bring your lab manual and any other questions you might want to ask me.

Kaeya doesn’t remember the last time he used so many exclamation points. If he’s being honest, it feels a little disingenuous. After all, who’s that happy to be on campus when they could be at home. He is happy to see you at least. And you said yes!

Properly rolling out of bed this time, he pops a painkiller and swallows it dry, brushing his teeth while choosing something to wear. He didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard but considering that he had no idea when the next time he’d be able to meet you one on one would be. He dresses quickly, heading back to the washroom to finish up and admire himself in the mirror.

Kaeya was very perceptive. He paid close attention to how you reacted around him the few times he would come over to check on you. The days he had the best reactions would be the ones where he was dressed casually, keeping that in mind when he adjusts the collar of his navy sweatshirt and makes sure his black sweats are tied properly to keep the desired shape of his silhouette. He blows himself a kiss, psyching himself up and extra thankful that his headache was already beginning to lesson after taking the medicine.

He grabs his keys and laptop, deciding that heading over to the lab early wouldn’t hurt.

“Kaeya?”

Looking around, he realises that you’ve found your way next to him. He smiles happily at the sight of your face, hangover completely disappearing at the smile you wear. The class before his planned time seems to still be in there so he pats the spot next to him, inviting you to sit down. He feels his heart skip a beat when you sidle in a little closer to him, curiously peering at his laptop screen.

“Is that a paper for the next lab?” you ask, your proximity inviting him to sit even closer to you.

“No. I’m trying to get work done for another class. But since you’re here why don’t we just talk?”

Considering it’s nearing the end of the day for most of the classes, the building that you’re both in is almost empty. It has him relaxing a little, leaning back against the stone of the stadium seating you’re in.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself? We didn’t do introductions on the first day after all.”

“What do you want to know?” you ask him innocently, looking up at him. He didn’t realise just how much shorter you were than him but with you being so temptingly close to him he has to hold himself back from putting his arm around you.

“Are you dating anyone?”

The question slips out of his mouth before he can catch it, making him cringe inwardly but not react in the least outwardly. He’s pretending that he totally did mean to ask you that question casually and is totally not asking you that because he’s into you. No, not at all.

“I’m just curious because I haven’t seen you at any of the parties around campus. Usually, people go there to mingle or get shitfaced. Are you neither?” he tacks on, praying it sounds natural.

“Is that really an appropriate question?” you ask, not seeming offended by it but almost worried.

“I don’t want either of us to get into trouble after all.” He scoffs.

“One of the TAs is fucking one of the students in the lab. They told me not to tell so I’m not telling you who but the university only cares if it starts interfering with our work. Or if someone tries to report it. But who cares?” He hopes his words assuage your concern and it looks like they do as you relax.

“Well, I’m not super into partying, and I’m not dating anyone,” you say, now answering his questions.

“Really? You don’t like to party?” Somehow, that takes him back more than the confirmation of your relationship status.

“Isn’t that what students are supposed to do? I’m still a little hungover from a party last night.”

“Yeah and last night I was trying to memorise the lab manual for class tomorrow,” you complain, looking at him with that adorable pout he can’t resist.

“Can’t you guys go easier on us? We have so much work to do already and we have to do quizzes once a week? And take notes on so much stuff to prepare for the lab?”

“I’d love to have less work to mark too sweetheart,” he takes note of the way your face reddens slightly at the pet name, deciding to keep that in his back pocket for future use. “But, that’s what the professor wants me to do. I can’t help it.”

A lightbulb suddenly goes off in his head.

“Your grades aren’t where you want them to be, right?” he asks, trying not to seem mean and more concerned. You roll your eyes.

“No offence but considering that I’m not a science major I don’t dedicate all my time to this class. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care.” He can hear the frustration in your voice.

“I used to be pretty alright with biology. I’m taking this class because I even kinda like it. But I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe it’s just because it’s been so long since I’ve done it so I have this big gap in my memory but it doesn’t make me feel any better.”

He watches as you try to construct your sentence carefully, gently patting your shoulder when you finish talking. You welcome the attention, leaning into his side. Kaeya’s eye widens, gasping a little internally at how forward you are whereas you’re just taking in some affection from a sort of friend.

“Thanks Kaeya. I guess it’s just hard to not do well but feel like I can do so much better.”

His hand continues to lightly rub your arm, humming in agreement with your words.

“I was going to suggest that I can help you. I used to tutor when I was in high school.” He leaves out the fact that it was primarily for his friends which he assumes is much different than tutoring for a bunch of strangers.

“Really?” Your face lights up and he nods.

“I’m not doing too much work anyway. And besides, you are my favourite student. Why wouldn’t I want to help you reach your full potential?” His words make you blush and you lightly push him away playfully.

“Stop that. You’re going to make me believe it,” you whine, making his heart skip a beat.

“Oh come on. You think I’m lying?” You raise your brow at him.

“I’ve heard you have a bit of a reputation.” He makes a face in response to your words, groaning.

“Trust me. They make me sound way worse than I actually am. I’m not just trying to get into your pants or something. I just genuinely care about how my students perform. Is that so hard to believe?”

Kaeya presses the back of his hand to his forehead, leaning back dramatically.

“I’m so hurt that you’d think so lowly of me. I thought we were going to be good friends after your textbook so rudely attacked me.”

“Oh shut up,” you scold, tapping his chest. He chuckles a little but notices that you’re looking at him a little hopefully.

“You want to be my friend?” you ask him quietly, making a little voice in his head remind him that no, he wants to aim for a little more than that.

How could he not? He barely knew you outside of the fact that you weren’t a science major and that you had an absolutely adorable laugh that he managed to pull out of you with some cheesy joke. He’d had crushes on people before, sure. Normally they didn’t turn into anything more than that if he wasn’t able to talk to them but something about you kept drawing him to you.

“Of course I do!” he says instead. “You seem nice, you’re hardworking, and you came all the way out here just to try and do better in class. I could use someone that dedicated in my life.”

“But back to my original idea. How about we meet up at my place one day and I can help you study? The midterm’s coming up so I think that it’d be helpful.”

“Your place?” He winces a little on the inside. Maybe that was too forward.

“You know how busy the library can get during exam season. Don’t worry - I’m not going to try anything stupid with you. If it makes you feel better we can do it early afternoon and you’ll be going home whenever you want. I just thought it might make you more comfortable to do it in a more relaxed environment.”

You lean back on the stone steps, considering his words. He waits with bated breath, not sure what your answers might be.

“Why not? If we want to be friends I’ll be coming over more anyway. But maybe if you’re going to text me or something I should get your number and I’ll give you mine. How does that sound?”

He nods excitedly, pulling up his contact list for you to add yourself. You hand him your phone so he can do the same.

“I would still suggest you send any questions about course material to my email. It’ll make it easier for me to see and reply and you can keep track of it easier too,” he adds, returning your phone to you and trying to remember when the last time someone asked him for his number was. Normally he does the asking.

“Right. That makes sense,” you nod in agreement, getting up with him to head into the lab when you both see that the lab is freed up.

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya fluff

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gamerwoo · 3 years

Text

Seventeen: Color Theory (Part One)

Characters: Seventeen x female reader

Genre/warnings: host club au, soulmate au, college au, angst, fluff, some attempts at humor, mentally abusive relationship dynamics

Word count: 3,963

Summary: Can the wish to be the soulmate of another overpower fate? That’s the question your best friend constantly proposes at the mention of your soulmate who has many flags to match the color of your pendant. You’ve always dismissed her whenever she told you to forget about your soulmate, because how could you? He’s the person you’re destined to be with. But one day, you find that your red pendant to indicate you’ve found your soulmate has suddenly turned white again.

a/n: this is a sequel to Fate & Desire because i wanted more host club svt in my life so here we are!!!! if you haven’t read f&d you might not understand some of the stuff in these series so it is recommended that you read that series first!!

Fate & Desire Masterlist | Next | Color Theory Masterlist

“And we’re back in action!” Soonyoung exclaimed as he burst through the doors of the main host club room. He inhaled deeply before letting it out obnoxiously. “Still smells super fancy in here.”

“Did you know I didn’t miss you?” Jihoon deadpanned.

“What, summer break wasn’t a long enough time away from all of us?” Wonwoo chuckled with a sarcastic lilt to his tone. “I don’t believe it.”

“I don’t believe that Jihoon’s just as irritable as he was at the end of the year,” Seungkwan muttered.

Just like everything else on campus during the summer, the host club shut down until the next school year. So the first thing the SVT host club did was meet up at the club room as soon as they were moved back into their dorms.

Soonyoung was the last member to arrive, the others having already begun catching up. Seungcheol talked about his family’s vacation to the Bahamas, Joshua and Jeonghan aired each others embarrassing stories from their time going back and forth between each other’s hometown all summer, and Hansol showed photos from his time in NYC. All of the members recapped their summers to each other until everyone was mostly caught up with one another.

“And what were you and the love of your life up to for 3 months, Junhui?” Seokmin inquired with a grin.

“Yeah, I literally didn’t see her all summer,” Jeonghan pouted.

“You we’re also in Cali for half the summer,” Jun reminded him.

“But not the other half!”

He sighed, a soft blush coming to his cheeks, “I took her to visit my hometown for a couple weeks. Then I stayed at her parents’ with her and we were…kinda looking for a place…”

“You’re gonna move in together!?” Seungkwan gasped.

Seungcheol grinned, “Congrats, Jun!”

“Is she coming back to the club?” Minghao wondered.

Junhui shook his head, “Nah, she doesn’t think the club is really for her. Plus, she felt weird staying in the club when we’re dating.”

Joshua and Jeonghan both frowned at Junhui, saying at the exact same time, “What’s wrong with that?”

Seungcheol stepped in before Jun could stammer out a rebuttal, letting out a laugh, “Okay, okay, I think we should start setting up. Our grand reopening is in 2 days and we have a lot of cleaning and redecorating to do. Let’s get to it, shall we?”

«─── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

Jeongyeon eyed you warily. You were going over your notes and filling out your homework diligently, trying to ignore the weight of her stare.

Finally, she broke the silence, though you wished she hadn’t.

“We’re not going to pretend I didn’t just see that,” she stated.

You let out a groan. You should’ve known to keep your phone screen facing the table just in case something like that happened, but you didn’t think Saejoon was going to text you out of nowhere like that. He normally didn’t say anything to you unless you texted him first -- even then, it was maybe a 50/50 chance you’d get a reply from him.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you insisted.

“It literally is,” she nodded. “He’s your soulmate and he treats you like trash.”

The text read something about you not being allowed back at his apartment, with a couple choice ‘pet names’ for you scattered in there somewhere -- you just kind of glanced at the text before hurriedly flipping your phone over in hopes that your best friend didn’t see. But she did.

“I told you, he just has to warm up to it,” you continued, trying to go back to your work. “He was dating his ex for five years before we met, I can’t blame him for being a little bitter that I ruined everything.”

“Ruined everything?” Jeongyeon almost shouted, and you quickly looked up and shushed her.

“Dude we’re in a library,” you told her in a hushed but urgent tone. “Shut up.”

“You’re his soulmate and he’s got you convinced that you ruined his life or something?” she continued anyway, but her tone much quieter now. “You can’t actually think this is normal.”

“I don’t blame him for being upset -- he loved her.”

“I--” she paused to pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh, her eyes falling closed. “_____, no. Look, you need to be shown how a person should treat you. Whatever the hell Saejoon is doing isn’t it.”

“Things will be fine once he warms up to me. We’ll get to know each other better and--”

“_____, he won’t even let you around to get to know you,” she interrupted. “He’s been acting like a little bitch for almost three months, you can’t just let him treat you this way!”

“Jeongyeon, there’s a reason he’s my soulmate,” you stated. “He can’t hate me forever.”

“Unless this whole mess is the gateway to meet your actual soulmate.”

“...I have no idea how that’s supposed to work.”

“If you meet someone who treats you better, maybe your soulmate could change!”

You groaned, dropping your head back against your chair, “Jeong, don’t start with this ‘fate versus desire’ shit again. It’s not possible to change fate.”

“Unless changing fate is your fate,” she pointed out with a smile.

“That makes literally zero sense. If changing your fate is your fate, then the original fate wouldn’t be your fate anyway.”

“...I’ll be honest, I didn’t keep up.”

“Exactly, because it’s stupid!” you huffed.

Jeongyeon took a breath and shifted in her chair, scooting forward and leaning in toward you, “All I’m saying is to maybe...explore a little. Find someone who doesn’t degrade you and treat you like you ruined their life and just...see what happens.”

“Jeongyeon, I literally have a soulmate,” you reminded her.

“Well,” a new voice spoke up in your private conversation, “I have the perfect middle ground.”

You both turned your heads to see a pretty boy with perfect blonde hair smiling down at both of you. Jeongyeon’s eyes widened as her lips parted, staring up at this guy like it was Jesus Christ himself.

You were pretty sure some pretty college dude that seemed to be working in the library was not actually Jesus Christ himself.

“Why don’t you stop by the SVT Host Club?” he offered with an almost mischievous smile. “All the proper treatment without any of the strings attached. You don’t have to look for anyone or feel like you’re going behind anyone’s back. And, we don’t even ask anything from your part. All you have to do is be respectful.”

Jeongyeon seemed at a loss for words, so you just raised a brow and asked, “A host club?”

He nodded before holding out a slender hand, “My name’s Jeonghan, I’m one of the hosts."

Cautiously and eyeing his hand warily, you took it. But instead of him shaking your head, he bent down and pressed his lips to the back of your hand.

Your heart fluttered, but you also kinda felt the instinct to punch him.

“I’m personally inviting you to our first meeting of the year tomorrow night,” he purred, smiling at you sweetly now. “If you don’t enjoy your time, I’ll buy your lunch for the next week.”

You scoffed, “You’re that confident, huh?”

“I am, yes,” he nodded once. “There’s a host there for everyone, and besides, who doesn’t like to get treated extra nicely? Everyone wants to feel special, and we’ll make sure you feel very special. Just show up and I’ll tell them I invited you. I promise, you’ll be incredibly satisfied.”

Then he slipped a small business card onto the table between you and Jeongyeon, flashed you a wink, and walked away.

“Ho-ly-shit,” Jeongyeon chuckled, finally seeming to be out of her trance. “Dude, Yoon Jeonghan just personally invited you to the host club.”

“Is that that thing you and Alex keep trying to drag me to?” you quizzed.

“But you don’t understand,” she shook her head. “When one of them personally invites someone there, it’s like...an experience.”

“Meaning...?”

“You just have to go,” she told you with a laugh like she didn’t believe the situation you found yourself in. “You’re one of the luckiest girls in the world, though, I can tell you that.”

“Will you at least go with me?” you whined. “This sounds really weird and I’m nervous.”

“I’ll go, yeah,” she shrugged.

“Okay,” you breathed with a nod before glancing back down at the shiny card on the table that read SVT Host Club in pretty cursive. You picked it up and flipped it over, seeing that it said the building and room number to go to for the club. And at the bottom, it read ‘We can’t wait to meet you’.

You felt something in the pit of your stomach, you just weren’t sure what the feeling was.

«─── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

“We’re back, baby!” Soonyoung burst after he’d dressed himself in one of the new uniforms that were prepared toward the end of summer break.

Jihoon let out a sigh as he tried to fix his collar, “Can you stop doing that?”

“I have to say,” Mingyu spoke up, turning this way and that in the mirror as he looked himself over, “these new formal uniforms are doing me some favors.”

“No, Mingyu, that’s called discovering the gym,” Jun told him.

“Yeah,” Hansol chimed in, “the tiddies are yours, not the outfit’s.”

“But these revamped uniforms are pretty fuckin’ cool,” Joshua agreed.

Along with their standard formal and casual outfits, the group now had more options as well. Like before, they all somewhat matched each other without looking identical, but for their opening night for the school year, they went with the most formal uniform available.

“Everyone say thank you Mommy and Daddy Choi,” Jeonghan said in a teasing tone, his eyes finding Seungcheol.

The president just sighed and rolled his eyes, “Please stop calling them that. I don’t even call them that.”

The room was filled with playful bickering and banter until Seokmin let out a sigh as he fixed his tie, “I miss Jun’s girlfriend.”

“That sounds weird,” Minghao pointed out.

Seokmin was giggling at the look Junhui was giving him as he said, “Yeah, that was the point.”

“Did you invite her to come tonight at least?” Wonwoo wondered.

“Yeah, I feel like I haven’t seen her in ages,” Chan exclaimed.

“I told her she could come, but I doubt she will,” Jun replied. “She said I’m cringey enough outside the club.”

Seungkwan burst into loud laughter, as Hansol chuckled out an, “Ouch.”

“Oh!” Jeonghan spoke up. “That reminds me: I invited someone.”

“Oh, really?” Seungcheol asked. “Who is it?”

“I didn’t catch her name, but she was talking to her friend about being treated poorly by someone,” he shrugged. “So I gave her a personal invitation.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve done one of those,” Soonyoung noted. Then he smirked as he adjusted his collar. “Can’t wait.”

“Assuming she even shows up,” Jeonghan pointed out. “She seemed pretty skeptical of the whole thing. Her friend definitely would’ve jumped on the offer, though."

“Who was she?” Mingyu wondered.

“Jeongyeon,” he chuckled.

“How did you give a personal invite to someone in front of one of your clients?” Chan wondered.

Jeonghan just shrugged, “I didn’t say she couldn’t come. Besides, she only comes once a month. It’s not like I did it in front of a regular.”

“You’re a dog,” Joshua snickered, jabbing his boyfriend in the ribs lightly.

“Tell me about it.”

«─── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

You were panicking, trying to grab onto any part of Jeongyeon you could manage. She was giggling, trying to pull your hands off of her and push you fully into the club room.

“You said you would come with me!” you whined. “You can’t ditch me!”

“I said I would come with you, and I did,” she nodded. “I never said I was staying.”

“Dude, you’re the one who comes here!”

“Yeah, but I’d get totally overlooked tonight for you,” she scoffed. “Trust me, it’s really not that scary. They’re going to be so nice to you!”

“That’s the problem,” you mumbled, finally giving up your fight. “I’m...nervous. Maybe kinda anxious.”

“You’re anxious about pretty men?” she snorted.

When you just stood there and gave her a serious look, she sighed, “Okay, just fill out the paperwork and I’ll be right back.”

“You’re not leaving?” you checked.

“Not yet, anyway. Just stay here.”

She gave your shoulders a light squeeze as she flashed you a reassuring smile before going up to one end of the table where other girls were filling out their forms. You watched Jeongyeon go up to one of the boys at the table who were dressed in one of the host club uniforms before sighing and going up to fill out the form.

‘What kind of questions are these?’ you thought to yourself.

There were all kinds of questions, from what your type was to what kind of food you liked. Did you like physical touch, and if so, what kinds? Did you like certain pet names? How would you describe your personality?

How were you supposed to fill all of this out?

“Excuse me,” a soft voice said from above you.

You lifted your head from the form, looking into the eyes of a boy with brown hair, a long face, and a beauty mark by his nose.

He flashed you a bright smile, “You’re Jeongyeon’s friend, right?”

Immediately, your eyes scanned for Jeongyeon, knowing this was her doing, but she must’ve snuck out when you were preoccupied by paperwork.

You made a mental note to give her a piece of your mind later.

“Y-yeah,” you finally replied, “that’s me.”

“She told me you were invited here by one of our members, Jeonghan,” the corner of his eyes crinkled as he tilted his head slightly to one side. “Do you happen to have the card he gave you on him? If not, I can go grab him an--”

“Oh, it’s you!” you heard a new voice call, piquing the interest of a few girls beside you.

“Jeonghan!” one of the girls gasped.

He flashed her a smile before winking, “Hi, love. How was your summer?”

While she fawned over him, he walked straight over to you, standing beside the first boy on the other side of the table.

“She’s clear, Seokmin,” Jeonghan said, smiling at you in a way that was somewhere between flirty and dreamy. “This is the girl I was telling you about. We met in the library, didn’t we, sweetheart?”

The two stared at you for a beat of silence before you realized they thought you were going to say something by now. You blinked a couple times to clear your head before clearing your throat as well.

“Um, y-yeah, yes,” you nodded.

Jeonghan smirked, “You’re cute. I’m almost done getting ready, then Seokmin’ll bring you over. Don’t make me wait too long, okay? I’m too excited to spend time with you.”

He tossed a wink at you over his shoulder as he turned to walk away. Girls began squealing and wishing that they could’ve gotten a personal invite from any one of the hosts, but you still didn’t really understand what a personal invitation from the hosts entailed.

As Jeonghan approached his station for the night, Hansol snorted and asked, “Hannie, what’s her name?”

Jeonghan paused before his eyes squeezed shut and he rubbed his face with his hands, “Oh, fuck.”

Jihoon sighed, “I got it.”

«─── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

“I’m Seokmin, by the way.”

You weren’t sure why his speaking startled you when you were walking beside him. You looked at him to see he was grinning at you again.

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you,” you nodded, clutching the clipboard with the paperwork you were still trying to fill out.

He was about to ask for your name when his eyes locked on something far more interesting: your pendant. The vibrant red that was shown wasn’t what Seokmin was expecting to see. None of their clients had soulmates. He didn’t think someone with a soulmate would feel the need to even come to a host club.

“_____,” someone suddenly said your name, falling in step on your other side. Looking over, you saw someone had come up from behind you. He offered a small smile, “this way, please.”

He led you over to a couch where Jeonghan was lounging with a few other men.

While blocking your view, Jeonghan mouthed ‘thank you’ to Jihoon, who had intentionally said your name just loud enough for the small group to catch it. Jihoon just smirked and rolled his eyes.

“H-how did you get my name?” you wondered.

“It’s on your form,” the shorter boy turned and told you as he gently held your arms and guided you to sit on the couch between Jeonghan and other man. He leaned his face in a few inches from yours as he snatched the form from your hands smoothly before he smirked at you, “silly.”

Then he walked away.

“Don’t mind Jihoon,” Jeonghan told you, scooting closer to you.

“How’d he see my form...?” you mumbled, mostly to yourself.

“Jihoon just kind of...knows everything,” the other man beside you chuckled. He looked at you with sparkling eyes and a warm smile. Just the way he looked at you made you somehow feel like you’d trust him with anything. “My name’s Seungcheol, by the way. I’m the president of the host club. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

There were two more boys in your vicinity -- Wonwoo and Soonyoung -- but they would move around or switch out with others. You were eventually acquainted with all 13 members of the host club. And all of them were sweet and charming in their own ways. You noticed they all had their own personalities and vibes, and you found it interesting.

However, despite not completely hating your time at the host club, you noticed something: you’d caught all of their eyes flicker up from your chest at least once. You didn’t assume they were trying to stare in a pervy kind of way. You knew it was your pendant. But your shirt was a little lower cut so you couldn’t hide the red pendant from their curious eyes. You knew they were wondering why someone with a soulmate would be at a host club. You knew they were judging you.

“_____?”

Your eyes focused back on Jeonghan’s face. His head was slightly cocked to one side, looking at you with a tinge of concern.

“Sorry, what?” you asked.

“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning forward and placing a hand on your knee. “You’ve seemed to get more and more...out of it.”

“Yes, you seem to be growing more anxious as time passes,” Wonwoo noted, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. “Is there anything we can do to ease it? Do you need water? A snack?”

“No, no, it’s not-- ...It’s just...” you trailed off, unsure how to come out and say you knew people were staring and you didn’t like it. You didn’t want to accuse anyone of judging you, but how could they not be judging you?

“Is it something we’re doing?” Hansol wondered. “We don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

The whispers and squeals of how considerate they were being normally would’ve made you want to snort, but you ignored it.

“No,” you quickly reassured them. “It’s...”

Your hand subconsciously went to the offending object and nervously toyed with it.

“Ah, excuse me for a moment,” Seungcheol suddenly said before leaving to a set of doors off to the side of the room.

While he was gone, the few boys around you tried to comfort you however they could without truly understanding why you were upset. They were nice, at least, but you kept reminding yourself that they kind of had to be.

Seungcheol returned with a navy blue sweatshirt in his hand, smiling down at you on the couch, “Arms up, please.”

The last time you’d had someone dress you was probably when you were like, 6, but you still found yourself putting your arms up and letting Seungcheol slip the pullover over your head. You noted that it smelled amazing.

He fixed your hair for you before returning to his seat on the couch beside you with a bright smile, “There. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan’s eyes widened. “_____, we didn’t mean to stare or anything! We weren’t trying to--”

“No, please don’t worry about it,” you promised. “It’s probably weird seeing someone with a soulmate in a host club, but--”

“Ah,” Seungcheol quickly interrupted, holding up a finger that almost touched your lips. “You don’t need to explain yourself. This host club is completely judgement-free. And if anyone gives you a hard time about it, just let us know.”

“Yeah, we want you to be comfortable while you’re here,” Hansol nodded with a lopsided smile. “I mean, if you wanna come back.”

And you were definitely considering it.

«─── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───»

The boys poured into the dressing room to get back into their normal clothes. They were already loosening their ties and unbuttoning their shirts as they entered.

“That was a pretty damn good re-opening if I do say so myself,” Minghao noted.

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, his tie already loosened and swaying as he strode toward where he’d left his belongings, “So many new clients already and we just re-opened. This year’s gonna be a lot.”

“But it’ll be fun,” Soonyoung smiled almost evilly.

“And _____ was pretty cool,” Hansol spoke up. “It was kinda nice having a personal invite for our first night back.”

“I thought it would be more stressful balancing one girl and all of our clients, but it was kinda easy,” Jun shrugged.

Seungkwan scoffed, “Yeah, because being nice to someone else makes them go nuts.”

“It’s sad how the bare minimum gets such a good reaction,” Chan sighed.

“I didn’t know she had a soulmate already, though,” Jihoon said as he shrugged his white button-up off his shoulders. “I don’t want to judge but why did she come?”

“What did you say she was talking about, Hannie?” Joshua asked.

Jeonghan shrugged, “Fuck if I remember.”

“Nice,” Wonwoo nodded.

“It’s none of our business anyway,” Seungcheol interrupted as began unbuttoning his shirt.

“I really didn’t mean it in a rude way,” Jihoon stressed.

“I know, but she was already uncomfortable about it,” he continued. “I’ll admit, I was also guilty of staring a bit. But we don’t know the story and we don’t need to know.”

As the boys continued to change and talk, Chan suddenly stopped when he noticed a bright color out of the corner of his eye. He stopped completely, looking down at the red pendant that was definitely white before the meeting.

“Uh...” was all he said.

“What’re you--” Soonyoung’s eyes widened when he looked where Chan was looking, “Oh shit.”

All eyes looked over and down at the pendant, bright and red and staring at all of them.

The owner of the pendant looked up from the red and around at the 12 other boys staring at him. He wasn’t even sure what to say about this. There were so many thoughts in his head and he couldn’t focus on one. He wanted to be excited that he finally found his soulmate, but there were so many new clients tonight that his soulmate could’ve been anyone. What was he supposed to do next?

“Well, well, well,” Junhui chuckled, being all-too familiar with this situation, “how the tables have turned.”

#ficscafe #seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen fanfic #seventeen series #seventeen soulmate au #seventeen x reader #soulmate!seventeen #seventeen host club au #host club!seventeen #seventeen aus #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfics

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!

#hybrid bts #hybrid namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon smut #hybrid!bts #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut #hybrid au #hybridbtsnetwork #out of the woods

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sirisuorionblack · 3 years

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Professor Lupin

Professor!Remus Lupin x Professor!Slytherin!Reader

Request: Hey! Could I please request a Professors AU with Remus? I melt over the idea of him reuniting with someone from his school days when they both become professors and potentially a shit ton of pining from our boy Prof. Lupin ☺️ ty lovely!!! Xxx

Warning - none that know of.

A/N I hope you like it @cherrycolakxsses! Had so many doubts to post it but this I finally out. It's quite lengthy and might feel rushed at the end. Sorry!

"(Y/N) (L/N),” Professor McGonagall’s voice tore through the music blasting inside (Y/N)’s office. Does it set a bad example? Definitely. Does she care? Maybe.

“Old habits die hard, Professor,” she said, extinguishing the candlelight on her desk that's been lit since last night when she was going through a few papers. McGonagall chuckled at that.

The two of them walked down the corridor to the great hall for breakfast when Professor McGonagall said something, “Who do you reckon is going to be this year’s Defence Professor?”

“The dementors?” (Y/N) asked, looking genuinely confused.

McGonagall glared at her, “I wish you weren’t a professor, I could have deducted points,”

“Professor Slughorn would have been mad at that,” (Y/N) chuckled.

Professor McGonagall smiled at the fond memories of her past colleague complaining to her about “unfair deduction of house points”.

“But tell me a plausible guess of who might be this year’s Defence professor,” she insisted, a small smile tugging on the corner of her lips.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes, “What are you planning, Minnie?”

The said person rolled her eyes at the nickname, “Well, I will tell who the Professor is - Its Remus Lupin,”

She could see the young professor straighten, staring at a spot on the ground as her thoughts ran wild, mind flooding with memories of a certain familiar Gryffindor.

“Oh,” was all she could muster.

“He will be joining us tomorrow,” McGonagall said carefully, looking intently at the girl before her.

“What!? Tomorrow?” she said, her eyes blown wide.

“Yes, and I except for him to have a good welcome,”

“You think I would be...mean to him?”

“What are you two still in your fifth year?”

“Oh come on, Minnie! Don't do that!”

“I should give it to the two of you, it was rather hilarious,”

“What is hilarious in watching two fifteen year olds duel!?”

“You will know it,”

That night (Y/N) rolled on the expanse of her bed, wanting nothing but the face of the Gryffindor to just disappear and allow her to sleep but all she could think about was him. She wondered if that same high school crush was turning, she wished not.

“Welcome, Remus,” Professor Dumbledore greeted him with a wide smile as Remus looked around the Headmaster’s office. He had come here only a handful of times and every single instance was just not the best.

“Hello, Professor,” He said, smiling politely.

After the introductory chat, Dumbledore said, “Well, come on, then, let me introduce you to the rest.” Remus smiled awkwardly as the Professor clapped him on the back.

Remus stopped dead in his tracks as Professor McGonagall and another young woman walked in. He immediately identified her, it was (Y/N) (L/N), his once upon a time arch-nemesis. He clearly remembered her 16 year old self, a bright smile on her face as she spoke to him rationally for once, settling everything, that contrasted the taboo of students with green robes having cold look.

(Y/N)'s smile slipped as she saw him, he was extremely thin and malnourished but he did have a smile on his face that compensated for everything else.

“Hey,” she said, mustering the smile back and outstretching her hand.

Remus coughed as he managed to break out of the trail of memories and shook her hand, “Hello,”

“Ms (L/N), can you please accompany Mr Lupin to his office?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, professor,” she said without giving it another thought.

“Do you remember this place?” (Y/N) asked with a smile as they reached a deserted corridor.

Remus barked a loud laugh, “Oh, how can I not! Wasn't this the place where we charmed the water balloons to pop right above your head?”

“Yep, it was the very same place where the epic duel happened, the time I had almost won,”

“But you didn't,”

“And neither did you,”

“I think - what was his name? - Liam Holloway! Yes, he ended up in the hospital wing,”

“That's what you get when you try to get in between a duel,”

Remus chuckled, “One of the reasons that was epic because that's when they saw Hogwarts’ most silent people have a fully-fledged duel,”

"Oh, yes! But honestly, to this day I have no idea how it started,"

Remus chuckled, "It was because the water had drenched your potions and charms essay "

"My potions and charms essay? Remus," (Y/N) dissolved in a fit of giggles, "Oh goodness,"

"What?" Remus asked, a smile spreading its way on his face. He waited for her to calm down.

"Professor Slughorn had looked at me pitifully the next class and then said I didn't have to hand in that essay and Flitwick did too. I hadn't done either of their essays that time. And when they told me that I was so confused as to why they did,"

Remus' jaw dropped as he looked at her incredulously, giggles still escaping her lips, "And I being the nice person I was, I wrote that essay for you and had James put it "discreetly" into your bag. Wait, that green bag was yours, wasn't it?"

"That was you!?" She asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes," he said, nodding.

"Oh, Merlin, I thought it was Snape for some odd reason and I was being good to him!”

“Should I be offended?”

“I dunno, I am sorry,” she wiped the tears that formed in the corner of her eyes with the amount of laughter she did within the few minutes.

Remus watched her as she smiled and looked around, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence.

“This will be your office,” (Y/N) said, opening her arms wide open at the entrance, “the terms start in a couple of days and then-” she grinned at him.

Remus was slightly distracted by the tank that stood at the side of the room, perhaps it was a fish tank; it was empty so he had no idea about the use of the tank and the thought of buying a fish for it ran high.

“No, honestly, the kids are great!” she said proudly, misinterpreting his silence.

“Are they?” Remus asked as he looked around his new office.

“Yes! I mean they are so lovely and sweet and just amazing, unlike some,” she said pointedly.

Remus chuckled, “What are you insinuating, (L/N)?”

“You know exactly what I am insinuating, Lupin,” she said, smirking.

(Y/N) squeezed Remus’ arm, watching his eyes turn glossy as he looked at the boy seated at the Gryffindor table laughing with his friends, resembling a lot like Remus’ late best friend.

He sighed and looked away. Soon, Professor McGonagall engaged him in a conversation, as though sensing the situation long ago. He spoke to her, a subtle forced smile on his face though all he could think about was his friends at the age of fifteen running along the corridors hollering and howling with laughter as they did so, and (Y/N).

“Good morning, Professor Lupin,” Remus heard as he walked through the corridors of Hogwarts - his once upon a time home, where he laughed and found friends and people who loved him, people he loved - he turned around to find (Y/N) grinning at him, “You know, I never thought you’d be a Professor,”

“You think I don't have the capability?” Remus asked, his eyebrows scrunched in offence.

“No, I mean you were after all the brain behind those petty pranks,” she said, grinning at him, “Do you think I didn't notice those “secret” whispers?”

“You-how?” Remus asked.

(Y/N) froze, biting her lips to prevent the blush from spilling onto her cheeks, “That doesn't matter. By the way, I must say, that prank on Snape where his hair was neon green for a week-?”

“That was epic and you know it,” he cut in.

“Yes, I know, Lupin, let me finish, will you? The part of the reason why it was because I did something,” she smiled cheekily, looking at him through her lashes and making Remus’ heartbeat cease and he felt as though the air in his lungs were knocked out.

Remus blinked, looked at her and asked, “What?”

(Y/N) chuckled, “Yes. The potion was to turn Snape’s hair a shade of purple, it was quite nice on him I must say but it wasn't - how do I put it, um,” she snapped her fingers in the air trying to find the right word.

“Humiliating?” Remus suggested.

Her eyes widened as she chuckled, “No, more like embarrassing?”

Remus smiled, “Alright,”

“So, I had mixed a neon green solution I had stored for, well...you,”

“For me!?”

“Yes,” she said with a giggle.

Remus blinked, “Why would you do that?”

“Um, good question but remember I hated you at that period of three months,” she said, shrugging.

“Well, now?” Remus asked, tilting his head slightly and staring at her intently.

“What now?” she asked.

Remus looked away from her striking orbs and at the sea of students, “You know, do you still hate me,”

“Nah,” she said and proceeded to mumble incoherently.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all,”

The two of them fell into the depths of awkward silence, struggling to get back. Students who passed the greeted and smiled, giving (Y/N) an opportunity to break the silence.

"What are you planning to do in your first class?" (Y/N) asked.

Remus had brainstormed the past night. He wanted something that would make his first class a good one, an opportunity to teach the students all while taking a place in their heart and getting to know them. Remus believed that a student would like the subject if they liked the teacher.

"I thought of doing some theory part or something like that," Remus shrugged unsurely.

“Theory? On your first day?” She looked at him as though he was an alien, “Wow, Lupin, I thought you were genius,”

Somehow, as she muttered those words Remus felt a blush forming on his face, perhaps because she thought he was a genius (which he was), or it was embarrassment.

"You could do like practical like, I dunno, something cool," she said, waving her hands wildly.

"Um, what is cool?" Remus said, blankly.

(Y/N) stopped, gawked at him and left forward, shaking her head, "Do whatever you want, Lupin!" She yelled.

"Hey, hey, wait! (L/N)! HEY!" He called after her, watching her go without another glance at him, "And there she goes. Great, Remus, scared the girl away,"

"You did a boggart!?" (Y/N) exclaimed, the evening Remus had come into her office uninvited - definitely startling her - and boasting about what he taught that day.

"Yes," Remus chuckled, "Neville's boggart was Snape, you know,"

(Y/N)'s jaw dropped, "Wait, I, oh my goodness, his worst fear is Snape?"

"Yeah," Remus mumbled. (Y/N) fell silent as her eyes connected with his, both of them drawing deep breaths. She got lost into the depth of his eyes, concentrating on trying to find which colour they adorn - green? brown? amber? - it would take her years to find out.

(Y/N) coughed and looked away, breaking herself from...whatever she was put into.

"Um, uh," Remus shifted on his feet, one hand stuffed into his pocket and the other scratching his neck, "Would you - um, perhaps we could, I mean, if you want to-" Remus stopped his stuttering and took a deep breath, "We could take a walk? Like just down the-"

(Y/N) chuckled, standing up and crossing the desk. She grabbed the jacket that hung on a stand in the corner of her office. The coat was an obnoxiously dark colour of green that made Remus scrunch his face.

"What?" She asked, narrowing her eyes, "You don’t wanna come?"

Remus grinned extremely widely, and snatched his coat, stumbling to join her pace.

The two of them walked down the corridor to the black lake, their surroundings cold, the chill air swishing their cloaks yet the two of them felt warmth seeping into every inch of their body.

"You do know that it's way past curfew, don’t you?" Remus tried to joke. The keyword being - tried. He was bad at that, he was bad at flirting, he was absolutely terrible with girls.

But to his utter surprise, (Y/N) threw her head back, laughing, "You do know that we are Professors, don’t you?"

"Well, it’s my first day," Remus shrugged.

"Oh, now about that again - did you really do a boggart with your students? Really? In the first class you wanted them to show their fears?" She said, glaring at him.

Remus shrugged and looked around, his eyes catching the moon, it was waning gibbous, 7 days due to full moon. He was finally back at Hogwarts for the full moon. 16 years later.

"Remus," (Y/N) laid her hand on his arm. He suddenly whipped his head to look at her, the movement adding to their close proximity.

Remus froze. Her eyes. They were captivating to him. They shined under the moonlight, her eye colours modified into bright, shining ones. He fell into the mysterious depth of her eyes that pulled him closer, quite literally.

Both of them did not know when but soon their lips connected in a messy kiss but it was perfect for them. Their hands manoeuvred until hers were buried into his brown curls and his arms wound around her waist, pulling her closer. Remus tilted his head, deepening the kiss.

Kissing under the moonlight, what a cliche, yet, Remus Lupin wouldn't want it any other way.

#remus lupin x reader #Remus Lupin #remus john lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #professor lupin #professor!remus lupin x professor!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x slytherin!reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader

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miss-smutty · 4 years

Text

A/N- I've been dubious about writing Thor but I just had to do this, it's been running around my mind for weeks 🙈 I'll be adding this to my Valentine's One-Shot series

Summary- You've been stood up, on valentine's Day or all days. At least you won't be spending the night alone, now Thor finally has you to himself.

Word count- 1, 806

Pairing- Thor x you

Warnings- Swearing, smut, unprotected sex

18+ Only!

Posted: 10th February 2021

⚡ Bolts of Pleasure ⚡

You leant your head on the cold, marble worktop - the coolness easing the pressure of the already lingering tension head ache. How could he stand you up? Today of all day's.

Somewhere in the distance, over the sound of your own thoughts, you barely hear the sound of the main door sliding open. Nonchalantly wondering who it could be, you knew it wasn't Tony because he was out at dinner with Pepper and you knew this because you were supposed to be there too - a double date.

Something Pepper had organised because she was the one who set you up with that prick in the first place - you can't even bring yourself to say his name. You should've known dating anyone who wasn't involved in anything within the headquarters would end in trouble anyway.

You assumed the other couples would be out doing other romantic bullshit while you were sure all the other guys were on a mission. So who the hell could it be?

The kitchen doors opened behind you and by the sounds of the unmistakably heavy foot fall, it was definitely Thor. Neither of you said anything for a noticeably long pause, you didn't even bother to move your head off of the kitchen worktop.

"You do know it's the day of the valentine's, don't you?" Comes Thors booming voice from behind you, trust him to state the obvious.

"Valentine's Day and yes of course I do, why do you think I'm here? Alone. Banging my head against the counter."

"Please don't do that, I don't want you to hurt yourself" he says with a sincerity in his voice.

"Sarcasm just goes straight over your head doesn't it?" You say, finally standing up to face Thor just so he could see you rolling your eyes at him. You know the statement would be lost to him if he couldn't see your facial expressions.

"Not much can go over my head without me seeing it first, but yes if you say so" ok so even seeing your facial expression didn't work this time. You laugh out loud at his lack of understanding.

"Oh Thor, you do know how to cheer me up"

"Good. Now you may proceed with your head banging if you so wish"

Have you always found his ditziness to be so cute or is this a new occurance?

"I'm going to put my head back down but only because I have a banging headache, these pills should kick in soon. Besides now you're here you might as well keep me company" This made Thor smile from ear to ear as you resumed your earlier position.

Unbeknownst to you Thor had walked in to the room to find you bent over, your delicious ass accentuated by those tight leather trousers you were wearing. He'd been hoping to find you here alone, once he'd heard about you being stood up, but wasn't quite sure how to handle how he found you. If he had his way he would have just walked over and made his move straight away but he'd been taught how things work differently here and he's been working so hard on his restraint.

Now you're bent over again and it's making his mind go blank, all he can think about is how he wants to shove his dick into you while he grabs on to those voluptuous cheeks.

"Thor?" You ask wondering why he's still stood by the doors.

Fuck, the way you say his name makes his fingertips tingle with bolts of electrical current. He wants to hear you scream his name while he's pulling your hair back and slamming his dick between those cheeks until he's balls deep.

"Your trousers are very tight" You hear Thor's footsteps stop behind you and before you can mutter something about him stating the obvious a moan escapes your lips as a slight bolt of electric soars through your core. Where did that come from?

Thor still hadn't quite got to grips with controlling his power while he was in the moment - maybe something to do with all the testosterone. His eyes widened, shocked by your reaction but the way he elicited that moan spurred him to continue.

Thor's hands were still gripping your ass as you got your bearings, realising where the shock came from and not hating the idea. You wanted more.

Moving his hands to your hips as you pushed yourself on to his straining cock, gripping on tightly while he pushed himself against you - his head hanging back as he bit his bottom lip and felt the lightning electrify his body.

Fuck me. If you knew sex with Thor would be this amazing you would've made sure it happened a lot sooner. You could feel his body tingling, like a vibration as the currents circulated through his veins,

flowing with the blood into his rather large appendige.

Thor slapped your ass again, accidentally catching your slit with his fingertips. Your pussy clenched as another bolt of pleasure went through you.

"Shit, Thor" you moaned deeply making him groan with desperation.

He's wanted to hear you saying his name, like that, for a while now and isn't disappointed with the way it sounds falling from your lips. Now he won't stop until your screaming his name, begging for him to fuck you into oblivion.

You pushed yourself against his now rock hard cock craving the feel of him inside of you. The vibration hits your clit and sends you over the edge, making you tremble and your knees go weak as you come, hard. Feeling dizzy as you come down.

Thor catches you as you buckle, turning you around and pushing you up against the counter. Your eyes are hooded with need as he handles your body, gripping at your curves with his electric fingers.

Your body jerks everytime he touches you, little does he know that with every touch your pussy clenches building up that deep orgasm once again. Thor's powers leave other men at a major disadvantage, how can anyone ever live up to this. Even worse, how can you now be around Thor without thinking about what he can do to you every time you see him.

His hand travels hungrily up your top, straight to your nipples while his lips attach to yours. You can feel his facial hair tickling your upper lip, a whole new sensation to your already tingling body.

Thor takes your tender, erect nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Squeezing gently as he emits tiny shocks and watches as you convulse around him, small, soft whimpers leaving your mouth involuntarily.

"Mmm, Thor. Fuck" you can't stand the tension much longer.

He's in awe with how much he can pleasure you with just the touch of his fingers. If he'd known it would be this easy to make your usual fiesty self, submit so easily, he wouldn't have been quite so intimidated by you. Look at you now, quivering under his touch, he's pretty sure your seconds away from fully giving yourself to him. He stops touching you, waiting to see how you'll react, testing his theory.

"Don't stop" you moan, pushing your heat against him as his hands grab your ass.

"Tell me what you want, my love" he whispers seductively against your ear, almost making you come.

"Oh god, do that again" you whine into his neck, wrapping your arms around his neck and savouring the other worldly scent of the god of thunder.

"Do what? My sweet - " his breath tickles your ear as he whispers again, he knows exactly what you want. Nibbling gently on your earlobe as you struggle to hold up the weight of your head, crumbling beneath him. " - Now, tell me what you want"

"I want you. Fuck me Thor, fuck me hard" leaning back on your hands with your lips parted.

"I thought you'd never ask" he growls, his voice becoming impossibily deeper.

Trying to pull down those tight trousers is going to take way too long and he doesn't have the patience for that. Instead he reaches out and effortlessly slits the gusset in half. Unable to contain himself when he sees how wet you are.

You reach down to unbuckle his belt, he's watching you intently, his cock straining against his trousers. You pull them down, just enough to watch his cock spring up, with a weapon like that he has no need for the Mjolnir. You instinctively want to take it in your mouth but there's no time for that now. You lean backwards, watching as he lines his cock up with your entrance. He stops, pausing for an agonisingly long time, watching your face screw with need.

Thor can see how much you want him and he's savouring the moment, relishing in it. Not forgetting how he wants to hear you beg for him, waiting patiently.

You look at him expectantly, grinding yourself forward until you can feel the tip of his cock.

"Thor, please!" You plead embarrassingly, desperately.

That's all he needed to hear before he painfully, slowly eased himself into your tight pussy. Inhaling deeply as your walls clamped around him. Finally feeling the warmth of your insides, a feeling he's been craving since the first time he met you.

You laid back on to the counter while he gripped your thighs, holding them up as he slammed his cock deep into you, the pressure building as he relentlessly pounds you. Those bolts of pleasure sending shocks shooting through your veins, with every thrust.

Thor held onto your thighs tightly, gripping his thumbs into your flesh while he ravages you. Months and months of pent up frustration finally being released. Grunting as he thrusted the brutal strength of his passion into you with force, loving the way your face contorts with every hit of your spot.

"Thor!" You scream his name as you gush all over his cock when he hits your spot, hard, repeatedly.

Your finally screaming his name, hopefully not for the last time. He watches the way your third orgasm builds, clenching around him as your legs shake in his hands.

How could it be the only time, when this is what he does to you? You're a dripping mess by the time he's ready. The gripping sensation rising as your climaxes peak again, releasing sparks of lightning all around you. Pushing his cock deep inside you as he shoots his warm, powerful load into you.

Your hair clings to your face as you fall back onto the counter, your body feels like jelly and you can't move just yet. Your eyes are closed but you can feel Thor still holding your legs while he waits for you to recover, gently tickling your thighs with his thumb.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time, would you be willing to make love with me again?" He says smiling widely, hardly breathelss at all - the stamina of a god!

"You can do that again?" You say breathlessly, impressed with his enthusiasm.

"I can go all night, my love. I am the god of thunder" he says proudly, puffing out his chest.

"You certainly are"

#thor series #smut #mcu smut #thor x you #thor x reader #thor smut #thor odinson #thor odison x reader #thor odison imagine

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borderlinebastard · 2 years

Text

life update

to start out the year I tried doing lots of new things: boxing, a photography group, a drama group, Toastmasters. at the same time I was volunteering at a charity shop, helping sort stock and serving customers at the till. got rid of a bunch of junk then I decorated my living room with the help of a charity, which then led to me getting interviewed (and it'll go on TV in september!) I went on long walks and talked to strangers. finished a year long D&D campaign with my group, my first completed game. saw an employment advisor. I got burnt out from doing too much for a couple months and smoked way too much weed. saw a counselor but she didn't understand me like my last therapist. the NHS finally got back to me after 3 years with an occupational therapist who also doesn't quite get me, I might stop seeing her soon.

I went on my first real date, didn't end up together but hey, someone was interested in me! went to an island and did some wild camping for the first time; on my own. volunteered as a Day Hub assistant for another charity, and did some research/admin work for another. started writing a novel with a writing class (it's not going great, had a lot of writing block, but eh at least I tried...). took lessons with a class and passed my driving theory test on my first try, my practical test should be next January. took an online class to help me create a good CV and figure out what my skills are.

i applied to a job last week and did 3 interviews: I start it on Monday! that was literally my first interview in 6 years, and the first employer that asked for an interview. I have no idea why they want me working for them. I got 2 pet rats (some of you may remember my rat pfp and posts lol). still working on finding more friends but have been messaging someone online most days for the last couple months, we're friends by now I'd say :) this has been the first summer in several years that I haven't slept through the day for weeks on end.

in terms of my BPD, I feel like the worst symptoms are the feeling of emptiness and unstable self image. it took me months to start applying to jobs because I didn't know -and still don't tbh- know what I want. not just in terms of big life plans, but even daily life things. I find it difficult to feel happy or satisfied or find things funny, though I generally only have 2-3 bad mood days per week which is good. I lost around 20lbs though that's been tough to keep off, even during summer when the appetite isn't so demanding, i still have a long long way to go to be a healthy weight. I've wanted to move to a nearby city but that seems counter-intuitive considering I just decorated and the cost of living is so much higher, the rent I currently have is really good so I can't risk it.

I'm pretty nervous about this new job, it's quite people focused and I have social anxiety. plus it's 50 hours a week. I have no experience in the industry, they're giving me training but who knows how that will go. I hope I don't get burnt out too quickly. a lot of people have been telling me I need to improve my confidence, to stop putting pressure on myself, which is annoying to hear over and over again but maybe if I hear it enough times it'll finally click.

#bastard.txt #mental health #recovery

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moosoobi · 3 years

Text

Battle Royale

(1) Fresh bread, French Prince

G.Lafayette : Hamilton the musical

Sometimes when you work on a project, there are moments when you need to take a break and work on something else. That’s really the case with In The Night, I have all these ideas but sometimes I feel confined to ITN (I literally have not started Chapter 3 when this is posted). And thus this fic was born. I hope you enjoy!

Y/N and Lafayette’s POV

Bridgerton inspired AU (watching the Bridgerton series would probably help in understanding ideas of ‘courting’ and finding a suitors)

Odd social structure (dukes are essentially owners of land which was popularized in London, Washington is considered a president, and Lafayette is now a prince!)

not my cover image 😟

Word count: 4k

Literally the biggest thanks to @deja-you for proofreading and some great feedback, ILY 🧎‍♀️

—-the Washington residence

The dreamy clouds would stream across the sky as Y/N began to read the newest article from Thomas Paine, the most notorious writer known for acknowledging every piece of gossip and whispers among the noble colonists.

The pamphlet felt newly written, as few spots of the odd-smelling ink would smudge. Though Y/N was not awake, a young boy delivered this meticulous pamphlet to the Washington residence before dawn.

As the daughter of the president, being the center of noble gossip was nothing new to her, in fact, gossip was never the center of her attention either. But something about this pamphlet in particular would surely catch her eye.

She began to read:

‘The scene for this courting season is looking quite interesting. Now that these young ladies are finally of age, they will indeed add competition to the scene.’

Ah yes, the annual courting season. A time for women and men to make their move and commence into the adult world. While many aren’t satisfied with their partners, reputation seems to grow higher than feelings.

‘Many pertinent names are included in this season, and I’m honored to document the presence of these people.’

‘The Schuylers: all three of the incredible General Schuyler’s daughters are finally entering the courting scene simultaneously. During the war, many soldier boys would fall head over heels to impress them, and many were unsuccessful. I’m ecstatic to observe the lucky men to take the hand of Angelica, Elizabeth, and Peggy Schuyler.’

‘The Payne’s: Miss Dolley Payne has finally been granted entrance into this courting season. Many theories and speculation suggest that her arrival to the scene at the same time as the other great names was not a coincidence.’

‘And finally, the most significant family joining us this season,’

Y/N sucked in a breath

‘The Washington’s: His grace’s pride and joy, Y/N, will be the most imperative competition this season. The pressure of being the president’s daughter, as well as the stigma of conceiving an heir, follow her wherever she resides. Nonetheless, Y/N Washington is an extraordinary star among the courting scene, and it would indeed be foolish to throw away your shot.’

‘It’s just common sense.’

‘-Thomas Paine’

It would take Y/N a couple moments before her squeals of excitement could be heard across the residence

Shortly after, the rumbles of Y/N racing down the stairs would cause her parents, George and Martha, to take suspicious glances at each other. Y/N finally reached the dinner table where her parents were finishing up their morning tea.

“What’s got you going so early, dear? I usually have to pull you out of bed around this time,” Martha questioned

“Sir Payne wrote about me in the paper! My entrance to the courting scene seems to be the most glittering cluster of ink in this pamphlet” She squealed

Y/N excitedly, yet also harshly, slid the pamphlet over to her parents, moments later they would observe her words to be true

“That’s great, dear” Her father, George, looked up from the paper with a smile. “I know you’ll represent the Washington Family name well, although it’s a shame you’ll have to lose it when you get married” he sighed

“Oh lighten up George, Y/N will be the talk of the town, I’m sure she’ll attract some worthy gentleman”

“Damn right he better be worthy.” His eyes transferred from Martha to Y/N

“Remember Y/N, very few are prepared to handle a Washington, you can even ask your mother.”

Y/N couldn’t hold in a giggle as Martha rolled her eyes. Both Y/N and George watched as Martha arose to place her porcelain dishes in the sink

“Well I must be soo blessed to have to take care of two of them.”

George turned back to Y/N and slid her a letter across the table, keeping another letter in his opposite hand, which was still unopened

“May I ask what this is?” She held up the letter. Even the feeling of the paper could tell Y/N that it came from the colonial gentry. The scent faintly reminded Y/N of champagne and flowers, and the seal was a sparkling coral-pink shade. The letter appeared to be already opened

“The Schuyler’s are inviting you to a small tea get-together, whatever you kids call it.”

Y/N opened the envelope, searching for the details. How exciting was this, to be among the best of the best, especially in the greatest city in the world. Before she could reply, George began to speak again

“I’ve already requested for two escorts to accompany you on your way to the Schuyler residence.” Y/N turned to him in confusion

“Huh?” She questioned “escorts?”

“Now that you’re officially in this courting season, your safety could be potentially in danger. I’m just trying to make you comfortable” He retorted

“Father, I’m sure I’m capable of walking on my own. I mean, the Schuyler residence isn’t even that far and-”

Y/N was interrupted by multiple knocks on her door. She shot a ‘this isn’t over’ glare to her father before wandering over to her front door. She opened the door and found a surprise

The Duke of Monticello and the Duke of Manhattan, my father’s two trusted secretaries. Dropping the formalities, Y/N addressed them by their first name

“Thomas? Alexander? Don’t tell me..” she turned back to her father. Jefferson and Hamilton stood at the doorway, both with flowers and nervous in the presence of Washington

“Father, I’m starting to question whether you worry for my safety, or worry for your pickiness of my suitor.” Thomas and Alex attempted to hold in their laughs as if their lives depended on it

“Of course I do!” He held a hand to his chest as if he was hurt “although I do owe them a favor-” a smirk spread across Thomas’s and Alexander’s face, yet was quickly faded as Washington addressed them

“But no funny business with my daughter. If I hear of any shenanigans from either one of you, you both have serious consequences.” Y/N turned back to the dukes, both of them appearing drained of color.

“Let me get dolled up and we can be on our way” Y/N swiftly ran upstairs, leaving Thomas and Alexander alone in the presence of their boss. Those poor, poor, boys

Five minutes later, Y/N glided down the stairs in her fancier skirt. Her corset gave her an amazing shape, and her hair made her appear to be a celestial being. She caught the dukes’ eyes lingering on her for a little too long. Luckily, Washington wasn’t around. “Let’s keep our focus on what’s really matters, guys” she laughed

“R-right...” they said in unison, both turning away and pretending to be interested in the furniture in the house. Y/N had never seen the two secretaries so calm around each other, it made her realize the power the Washington’s have in the colonies. A simple order from a Washington could probably end wars, especially if it’s capable of making Jefferson and Hamilton contain their pride

“Your graces?” She held out her hands, signifying that she was ready to depart. The dukes held out their forearm and elbows for her to take. Y/N intertwined her arms into theirs, and they headed for the Schuyler residence.

A few minutes down the path and Alexander Hamilton decided to break the silence

“I still can’t believe you’re entering this season, Y/N. I mean, I still remember running around those horrid military camps all those years ago” he chuckled. It’s true, it’s been all these years since the war and so much has changed

“I like to believe I’ve grown into a wonderful, young woman, don’t you think?” I batted my eyelashes towards both of them

“Of course darlin’” Jefferson cut in “but just because we’re your honorable colleagues doesn’t mean Hamilton and I won’t be lining up for your hand”

“Don’t be so sure. I heard this season has a few aggressive competitors on both sides. The Schuylers, the Paynes, even the Madisons! I might have to step up my game. In the meantime, both of you have to keep an open mind.”

Thomas and Hamilton stared at each other, surprised by her response.

“And If I find out that both of you placed bets on which one of you will earn my hand, I’ll be reminding my father to collect both of your heads.”

Their heads hung in defeat “alright, alright darlin’ I think I kind of like my head attached to my body. No need to get violent.”

“Plus I don’t think any of you can truly handle a Washington.” Y/N giggled, her arms still intertwined with theirs

“If Jefferson and I don’t scare away the competition, I’m sure your father will” Alexander chuckled, Thomas visibly reacted to the joke as well

“Oh come on, the two most popular dukes of the colonies have nothing on a suitor that is truly worthy of me” she scoffed

“And where would you find such a worthy contestant? Someone better than a duke?” The three stopped in front of the Schuyler residence

“Don’t kill my hopes, a Washington has her ways” Y/N removed her arms from Thomas’s and Alexander’s, heading for the front door. As soon as she was greeted by General Schuyler herself, she waved goodbye to the clashing dukes

“She’s so mine, Hamilton.” Thomas stated

“I’m sure you should be worried about your tomcat nature, Jefferson, don’t get too ahead of yourself” Alex retorted

Jefferson audibly scoffed before wandering with him into the city

—-France

3 weeks prior to Y/N reading that exciting pamphlet, Marquis de Lafay-- Now Prince Lafayette sat around a table of French nobles and officials. It felt like ages since he’s been in the colonies, and it has only been a few years ever since the French Revolution had ended. Yet instead of abolishing the monarchy system in France as Lafayette promised to the colonies, he and a few other nobles replaced the previous royal family.

Lafayette was later titled as a Prince, as were other leading men of France, but he urged to continue being addressed as the ‘Hero of two worlds’.

But with a new era upon the people of France, came the countless government meetings and conflicts that he had to resolve.

“Your Majesty? Are you even paying attention?” Secretary Robespierre whispered over his shoulder, causing him to visibly straighten himself out.

“O-Oui. Why wouldn’t I be?” Lafayette laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. Robespierre rolled his eyes before whispering again.

“This is our last meeting of the day. With all due respect sir, can you get yourself together?”

“Okay, Okay.” Lafayette sighed with boredom

He missed the colonies dearly, sometimes he wished he never left at all, but seeing his country yearn for a revolution compelled him to sail across the Atlantic once again. He often daydreamed of his riskier lifestyle with his closest friends and soldiers, as well as the feeling of awe while serving directly under General Washington. Never in his life did Lafayette think he would miss the adrenaline rush of stealing cannons and leading fully arm battalions.

His teenage memories of fooling around in those military camps, wandering the streets of New York City severely intoxicated, and the best memories of all, the memories of escorting the General’s daughter, Y/N Washington, to buy bread and pastries for him and his fellow soldiers.

Oh, what could she be doing now?

If it weren’t for the revolution at hand, Lafayette would’ve surely bent a knee once she set foot onto the military camping grounds. Lafayette held such a high respect for Y/N when they first met, especially since she was the daughter of his most admired general. The women in France just couldn’t compare to her heavenly beauty, and her kindness was unbeatable. She was the greatest treasure that Lafayette had stumbled across during his time in the colonies. Although many noblewomen would attempt to take a bite of him, Lafayette stayed loyal to his non-existent promise to Y/N.

A quick quill-slam to the table, and he was quickly drawn back to his reality. Why should he worry about his previous General’s daughter anyway? Lafayette was now a Prince, he could have anything he wanted. But the moment he set foot in France after the American Revolution, he lost the most precious things he already had. He yearned for glory, but at what cost? The cost of abandoning his bonds in the colonies?

He sighed, standing from the meeting table and wandering to his quarters. Secretary Robespierre followed closely behind him. Sensing an odd tension from Lafayette’s mood, Robespierre attempted to address his situation

“Do you need anything, your majesty?” Lafayette froze in his tracks, weighing his two options

“Actually...” Lafayette turned to face him “Schedule me a ship to the colonies. The earliest one you can find.”

Robespierre tilted his head in confusion, letting the last sentence sizzle in his head.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The prince in distress sighed with fatigue. “I’ve decided I’m heading to the colonies, tout suite.” Lafayette kept his gaze strong

‘B-but sir, you have so much to take care of-” Robespierre was notably panicking at this moment. “-and the recent shortages-”

“Mon Ami, there are at least three other ‘crowned princes’ who are perfectly capable of maintaining this nation. One prince gone won’t hurt the economy” Prince Lafayette stated firmly

Robespierre debated for a moment before confirming his thoughts “Alright. I’ll notify you when the earliest ship can be sailed. But what shall you do about the gossip? Perhaps they will believe you are not responsible enough for this role.”

“Let the people speak as they please. In the end, I’ll remind them who’s in charge.” Lafayette began towards his quarters once again, Robespierre stayed behind to script all of his thoughts.

Finally in his study, Lafayette dipped his quill into the nearest container of ink and started to write.

‘To the Great General Washington, It’s been ages since we’ve last written…’

Maybe Lafayette will be able to have a taste of his old life.

---the Schuyler residence

Giggling echoed throughout the Schuyler residence as the 5 girls enjoyed their tea.

“Have you gals read Payne’s newest pamphlet? We’re the talk of the town as of now” Angelica, the oldest Schuyler, smiled with satisfaction. Her luminous complexion complemented her coral pink gown.

“I never expected our courting debut to be so..” Eliza searched for the right words “..turbulent among the talkers..” she took a sip of her tea

“I’m still stunned by the feedback” Y/N laughed nervously “My father even requested his two most clashing secretaries to escort me here, they didn’t even argue once” she said in awe

The top 5 girls of the season all sat in one room. Though they would eventually become each other's courting competition, they were great friends nonetheless. During the war, Y/N would stay in the Schuyler household while their fathers were out of town daydreaming of being free from the king, attending a few balls together, and watching soldier boys trip over themselves. After the war ended, Dolley Paine became a mutual connection through their high ranking families. The 5 got along way too quickly.

Peggy held up the tea pot “another fill, ladies?” Y/N and Dolley nodded, both taking their turns to fill their cups.

“Awee, look at you Peggy, you’ll make a perfect wife” Dolley teased. The rest of the girls laughed it off, yet Y/N didn’t feel at ease with that statement.

“You don’t actually think we will all get married that quickly, do you?” Y/N looked around to see their confused expressions. “Guys?”

“Well..” Angelica pondered for a moment “I believe that it’s ideal to marry on your first season”

Peggy had to stop herself from spitting out her tea

“That soon? But we’re so young, and-” Eliza interrupted

“And we’re ladies. Society expects us to do nothing more and nothing less with what we’re given” Angelica takes a content sip of her tea once again “I don’t make the rules around here.”

The silence was awfully louder than the conversation.

“Alright.” Dolley smiled “I guess we'll just have to make this next few weeks extra special, right?”

Y/N took a deep breath “the best of the best.” She muttered

Peggy turned to her and nodded, and Eliza was quick to join. Y/N faked a smile at the girls, ‘I guess that’s just how it is’ is what she thought, and Angelica would raise her glass for a toast

“A toast to the best courting season?” The 4 other girls raised their glass as well.

Though many hours were filled with laughter and giggles, Y/N couldn’t help but imagine how much her life would change within the next few months. And just by entering this season, Y/N will give up her youth and give someone her hand to please someone. To please herself? To please the people? To please her parents? She had no clue

She stared out the window, remembering those nights of staying at the Schuyler residence, watching those drunk soldiers stumble across the street. Many of them were her friends, friends she had met through her fathers rank. She smiled at the thought of the most memorable gentleman she had met while at those camps.

‘The French Foreigner’ is what they used to call him, but only before he became comfortable in the colonies. ‘Marquis de Lafayette’ was his title, and Y/N always loved the sound of his name rolling off her tongue.

“I don’t know what my father told you, but I’m sure I don’t need you to accompany me simply to buy bread” Y/N stood stubbornly

Lafayette gently grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips

“I just want you to be safe, mon ange, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt..”

He kissed the back of her hand, maintaining eye contact. Y/N appeared as if she just experienced a revelation “..shall we be on our way, mademoiselle?”

She took a moment to think, her head still in the clouds. Y/N slowly nodded “Alright.” The two intertwined arms and headed into the city

Oh how she missed the old days. Y/N hated to admit it, but she truly believed she met the most exquisite gentlemen during the war. Whenever she’d stay at the camps with her father, a small group of soldiers would always keep her company. A tailor, an abolitionist, two immigrants, the camps were definitely a mixing pot.

At that very moment, Y/N prayed she’d be able to find someone like the men at her fathers military camp during this courting season.

Y/N jumped at the tapping on her shoulder

“Y/N? Don’t tell me you already have suitors lining up out there for you” Y/N shook her head and laughed

“I just spaced out. That’s all.” She attempted to change the subject “What were we talking about?” She questioned

Peggy interrupted “Next week's ball, the first ball of the season. Do we show up in our best, or do we build suspense until the last seasonal ball?” Peggy debated

“Let’s take one ball at a time, shall we?” Eliza proposed her idea

“Well for the first ball, I suggest….” All the girls gathered around Angelica to hear her plan

—-Lafayette’s quarters (France)

Prince Lafayette neatly folded his clothes as he was departing for the colonies within a few hours. He remembers the excitement he felt when he traveled to the colonies for the first time, having to dress like a pregnant woman in order to board the ship, but he still cringes at the imagery.

He elegantly stuffed his belongings into his shoulder bag. He stood back to admire his rushed work, but he felt as if he was missing something.

Lafayette looked around his quarters, his eyes became glued on his treasured gun, gifted to him by General Washington himself. The wooden hilt was stained with god knows what, but the gold trimmings were shining in the afternoon sunlight.

He’d already have French soldiers accompanying him, he was a prince after all. Would he need such weaponry?

“I do not see why not.” He muttered to himself before stuffing it into his bag with the rest of his belongings. Lafayette dusted off his fancy clothing and stood in triumph, well, before a woman cleared her throat behind him.

Lady Adrienne stood at the doorway to his study, her emerald green skirts creased against the doorframe. Lafayette and Adrienne previously courted before he left for the colonies, which ended up being her last straw. Lady Adrienne attempted to stop him, since she was a loyalist to the monarchs of France, but Lafayette refused to listen.

“que veux-tu? I'm busy at the moment.” Lafayette covered his bag with a nearby coat, crossing his arms.

“I heard you’re going back to the colonies. What’s so special across the ocean that you can’t have here? You’re a prince for god sake”

“It’s none of your concern, get out of-”

“Last time you left for the colonies- left me for the colonies- you just weren’t the same when you came back.” she was on the verge of yelling

Lafayette sighed, having already been through this conversation ever since he came back to France.

“This is nonsense. I need to be alone as of now.” Lafayette turned away from her to continue packing his belongings. She had a hurt expression on her face; part of her mind refused to believe he wasn’t her suitor anymore. Ever since he left for the colonies.

She slowly began to advance towards him. “That is no way to talk to your previous courting partner, Lafayette.” Her tone was strong yet unsure.

“It’s Prince Lafayette to you, and there’s a reason why we’re not courting now..” He was notably irritated by her presence.

Lady Adrienne wasn’t leaving his quarters until she was given an answer.

“Was I not enough for you to stay in France…?” she rested a hand on his shoulders, Lafayette visibly cringed. “What’s in the colonies that you can’t have here?”

Lafayette swiftly turned towards her, brushing her hand off of his shoulder in disgust. “I don’t have to answer to you—“ he attempted to retort

“—Don’t tell me you’re still mad that I had more faith in the monarchs of our country rather than you”

Lady Adrienne rolled her eyes annoyingly, Lafayette blood had already begun boiling long ago. She started moving closer to Lafayette, attempting to trap him in his room, and forcing him to stay in France. Although this was her main plan, she wanted an answer, and she wanted it now.

“Your own lover didn’t believe in you. Is that why you’re so upset? It’s quite the reaction for something so minuscule—” she scoffed.

Lafayette snapped

“—as a matter of fact, you weren’t my lover. It’s not you, its...”

Lafayette, clearly frustrated, struggled to hold up under his old friend’s gaze. She saw it in his eyes, the way they lightened when he thought about the colonies.

She saw a similar light in them the day he returned from France. Perhaps it was the praise he obtained for the foreign war, or perhaps some treasures he discovered, or maybe someone.

“Lafayette... Did you find another partner in the colonies?”

The panic was visible in his eyes, but there no was no reason to panic, he thought.

Lafayette brushed up against lady Adrienne, his lips were millimeters from her ear. He began

“Our relationship ended from the moment I set foot on that ship, and I do not regret it one bit..”

He stepped out of her reach and continued to pack away his belongings, Lady Adrienne was frozen with shock.

“My business in the colonies is my business only,” He stated strongly. “And you are free to believe whatever you want, it would benefit me in the least to care about what you think. Am I being clear?”

Lady Adrienne could only stand in silence

“Security! I’d love for you to escort this maiden out of this quarters at once!”

He’d never forget the hatred in her eyes as she was humiliatingly taken away. Lafayette kept his mind on his current task: the colonies await his arrival.

—to be continued—

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