#it was a struggle to narrow this list to only 100 names

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

The Promise of Eternity (Part 2)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of  Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery

Word Count: 1246

Imagine Series List

Side Notes: 

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3.  Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

TAV POV

Breakfast time was a busy time for everyone in the castle. The chefs were busy preparing a large feast for the Lord of the castle and his exquisite taste buds. For the last two hundred years, Astarion has indulged and refined his taste for mortal foods, and the ever-rotating kitchen staff struggles to keep up with his desires. This morning, the chefs had prepared a feast of danish hens, caviar, fish, eggs in various styles, and other luxuries that only the nobility could afford in Toril. As I walked around the long dark wooden table that stood proudly in the center of an exquisitely decorated dining hall, I observed those who were hustling and bustling about the dining hall. Humans, elves, tieflings, and other people of all sorts of races rushed about to ensure that the breakfast buffet on the table would match the vampire lord’s meticulous standards. The silverware was polished and then examined before it was repolished several times until the silverware was finally deemed satisfactory. 

I took note of the facial expressions of the servants as they all appeared to be frantic in their preparations. I was searching for any signs of deception or discontent with their tasks as servants placed two sets of plates on the table, one at each end of the table where an intricately designed chair sat proudly. One of the chairs belonged to the vampire lord himself, and the other belonged to his most beloved. I fondly glanced over at the chair I had sat in so many times over the last two centuries. Before I could reminisce on fonder days, a familiar voice agitated my drow ears.

“This fork is not shiny enough for the Master!” The voice sounded like the person only spoke from their nose—an impressive talent—but the voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to the ears of those who heard it. The tiefling made her way hastily to the seat I had been staring at, with two puncture marks still lazily bleeding on her neck. Upon noticing me looking at her, she narrowed her eyes and gave me a snide look. “Look away, spawn, or I’ll tell your master that you’re bothering me.” She let out a laugh that reminded me of a pack of gnolls, but I turned my attention elsewhere as I left the room. On my way out, I almost collided into the pale elf himself, Astarion. He didn’t even spare a glance at me before I was shoved out the way and into the wall. I caught myself before smoothing out my dress and continuing my path towards my bedchambers. I could hear the ridiculous hyena laugh echo through the hallways until I had gotten several more feet away. Several of the spawn had given me sorrowful expressions as I passed, but I merely smiled at them as I took longer strides. Pity was etched onto every one of their faces, and I could not bear the weight of it on my shoulders. Besides, someone in this castle had broken a rule, and I was tasked to find whomever had done so.

Arriving at my bedchambers, I hastily opened and shut the door behind me before my handmaiden, Kristiana, greeted me. Kristiana was a spawn without a vampire master who Astarion and I had taken in under our wings one hundred fifty years ago. She was a short human female with big brown eyes, golden brown hair, and a soft smile. She was totally devoted to serving me hand and foot.

“Good morning, Mistress, was the sunrise beautiful this morning?” She asked as she walked into the large dressing room attached to the bedroom. “What are we thinking of wearing today? A nice autumn themed dress or shall we wear something more comfortable today?” I slipped off my gown and handed it to her through the door. Before I walked towards the warm bath she had drawn me. I sunk into the heated water and my muscles relaxed into the hot water. Kristiana walked over and poured water on my hair and brushed the knots out before she proceeded to wash my hair. 

“We are going to put on something more comfortable for today. After I am dressed, please take the day to rest and relax. You’ve been working so hard lately, and you deserve a break.” Kristiana’s hands paused in my hair. 

“Are you sure, Mistress? You know there are still plenty of duties for me—“ I waved my hand to stop her.

“I am absolutely sure. I can handle myself. Besides, I have business in town, and I am perfectly capable of handling myself.” I gave her a smile, which she graciously returned.

“If you are sure, I shall take you up on that offer.” She then continued delicately washing my hair while I washed my body. The sweet aroma of peaches filled the air in my room as dirt and grime was washed away from my body. Once I was rinsed, I stood up and wrapped a soft towel around my body as Kristiana laid out a plain black shirt and black trousers for me, I put on a pair of black leather boots to finish my outfit then smiled at Kristiana. I sat in front of the mirror, even though I couldn’t see my reflection, as Kristiana stood behind me and ran a brush through my hair.

“Just throw my hair into my usual bun and we shall call it a day.” I saw her nod her head in the mirror before her skillful hands went to work twisting my hair into a beautiful bun. She placed small black pins into my hair to hold it in place before she pulled out two strands to frame my face. She took a step back to admire her work before she smiled at me.

“All done, Mistress, and you look as beautiful as you always do.” I gave her a small smile. 

“Thank you Kristiana. You always do such a wonderful job. You are dismissed until tomorrow.” Kristiana gave a timid bow before she walked out of my bedchambers. I took a moment to sit in the complete silence of the empty room and thought about how my morning had started. My eyes watered with the familiar sting of tears as I recalled the small glimmer of how things used to be with Astarion, but the moment quickly dissipated the moment she walked into the room. 

I sighed heavily as I looked out the window, reminiscing on the days when Astarion and I were on the same page, wanting the same things, and speaking the same language. You will be my most beloved spawn, my right hand, my dark consort. I felt a single tear escape from my eye as his honeyed words rang through my head once again. Together you and I will be the most powerful people in the world. A few more tears slid down my face and collected onto my trousers. I had foolishly thought my little star had meant those words he had spoken, and I believe he truly did at one point in time. I wiped the tears that escaped my eyes before I straightened my posture. Regardless of how I thought he felt, he did entrust me with the task of finding whoever had stolen his blood. I grabbed my cloak and left my bedchambers as I set out to head towards my next destination: the library of Baldur’s Gate.

[endara]

Alastor x Reader Chapter 7 out now! 🖤

Asexual/Demiromantic Alastor, Reader is AFAB and on the asexual spectrum.

Fluff + Angst + Protective Alastor. Kinda slowburn. Flashback type scenes with human Alastor and reader being a serial killer duo and falling in love. Childhood friends to lovers. Reunited after 100 years. Alastor is a mamas boy. Angel and reader have a best friends dynamic. Valentino gets fucked over!

---

In the few weeks you’d been getting to know Alastor again since you'd reunited, you had never seen his full demon form from a distance like this. You’d had his shadow tentacles used around you once or twice, sure. But then you had been too close and distracted to really get a good look. It made sense to you now why so many people were terrified of him. His limbs were warped and extended in a way that made you feel uneasy. Dark, writhing tentacles sprouted from his back, two held him off the ground while another two held his victim elevated and pinned to the wall. The rest of them swirled menacingly behind him.

It was quite fascinating… In some strange way.

You couldn’t make out what Alastor was saying, all you could hear from where you stood watching him at the end of the alley, was the radio static emanating from him. Even from here though, you could see his smile cutting through half of his face, the corners of his lips were pulled to rest beside his eyes while he grit his teeth.

“Holy shit!” Angel Dust squawked from beside you when he finally caught up and spotted Alastor.

The Radio Demon reacted to the sudden voice instinctively, not registering who the voice belonged to before he’d sent a bin lid flying like a frisbee. It smacked Angel in the head and he yelped, his feet going out from under him as the impact almost immediately stunned and knocked him out.

In the few seconds it took for Angel to fall, you just about managed to grab under his arms before his head hit the floor. But you stumbled from the sudden unexpected weight, “Jesus Christ.” You exclaimed and looked up with wide eyes at Alastor, whose limbs were now back to their regular proportions and his feet were planted on the concrete.

At least by now, he’d realised who was watching him wasn’t a threat. He looked at you with narrowed eyes and a tight-lipped smile, the man behind him still pinned to the wall and begging you to help him. The poor guy didn't realise you had no intention of stopped Alastor's fun.

You planted your feet firmly on the ground so you could better support Angel.

When you checked on your unconscious friend, you sighed in relief, he seemed like he was going to be okay. His head wasn’t bleeding and he was breathing just fine.

“What are you doing here?” Alastor asked, his voice low and annoyed from the interruption. He also didn’t like the fact that he didn’t know how long you’d been watching or following him. Or why his sentient shadow duplicate hadn’t alerted him to your presence.

“Sorry. We didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” You answered, your voice strained from trying to support the weight of your much taller friend. Slowly, you were able to lift him up enough that his legs were the only thing dragging on the floor as you approached Alastor. “We were on our way back to the hotel when Angel spotted you. I just wanted to say hi and see what you were up to.”

Alastor watched you as you struggled to keep an unconscious Angel Dust off the floor, but he didn’t offer to help. If he were you, he would have dropped the pornstar onto the cold ground without an ounce of guilt by now.

He turned his head to shoot an annoyed death glare at his victim, all that yelling at you for help was starting to get on his nerves. The man whimpered in fear and cowered towards the wall as if it would protect him. When Alastor was satisfied enough by the reaction he got, he looked back at you.

“Why are you not at the hotel in the first place my dear? Did you forget there's a madman loose with your name atop his list?”

“Of course not. But I needed to visit my club to see how everything was going without me. I can't put my life on hold forever... I brought Angel with me, so I wasn’t alone- But he isn’t very helpful now you’ve knocked him out.” You explained, lifting your friend up slightly as you mentioned him.

Alastor laughed, moving his mic from one hand to the other and then looked at the limp Angel Dust in your arms, “Aha! I suppose that is true. Although I’m not sure he would have been much help while awake either.” He flashed a charming smile and shrugged, “But not to worry darling. Now you are here you might as well stay. I will ensure you return to the hotel unscathed.”

Read here <3

[dreamingofthewild]

100 Bloodweave Fanfic recommendations

As there are over 3,000 Bloodweave fanfics, I have been wanting to do a fanfic rec list for a while. To share some of the works I enjoyed and to offer support for the talented writers in the fandom. I opted for 100, as it is a nice number for a rec list. It was very hard to narrow it down, and there are many good fics that, unfortunately, didn't make it too the list. This is not meant as a 'Top 100' list.

The recommendations will be shared in 6 parts as it is too much for one post.

Part 6: Alternate Universe - 18 fics.

Driven by Nivasi. 105,334. Angst and Feels, Anemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff. Gale is a four-time Formula 1 World Champion at the top of his game, until he's involved in a crash that nearly ends his life as well as his career. Two years later, he's invited back. The only catch? His new teammate is a rich, spoiled daddy's boy who represents everything Gale hates about the sport.

Astarion is an F1 rookie, with only one season under his belt. As one of the sport's most promising talents, he's thrilled when he's invited to be part of the renowned Weave Racing team. The only catch? His new teammate is a failed relic who expects Astarion to be his Number 2 driver.

Now, the two unwilling colleagues will need to learn to work together or watch both their careers go up in flames.

Getting Carried Away by bluebeebalm. 122,582 words. Fake/Pretend Relationship, Academic Trauma, Hurt/ Comfort, Healing, Smut.  A fantastic AU character study, where struggling actor Astarion is hired by Gale to attend a party with him to help get his ex celebrity scientist Mystra off his back.

Watch The Fire by Aldaphrodite. Ongoing. Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Relationship. Gale Dekarios, a seasoned, respected rockstar losing steam with the younger audience. Astarion Ancunin, a popstar on the rise who can’t seem to keep his reputation (or his nose) clean. What better way to boost both of their careers than to sell a fake relationship to the press? That’s what their managers seem to think, anyway.

Still Breathing by cweepa. Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Trauma. Fresh out of a messy divorce, disgraced academic Gale Dekarios finds himself biting off more than he can chew when a seemingly innocuous encounter with an enigmatic camboy, Star, leads him down a precarious path of lies, liberation and eventually—love. Hold on to the handlebars because this one will take you on a rollercoaster of emotions.

Derailed by DeepSeaAngerfish. Ongoing. Grooming, Domestic Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, Falling in Love. Five years after escaping from the man who groomed him, Astarion is working for a train line and meets Gale and his abusive wife Mystra as passengers. Difficult feelings ensue.

Roasted by TheBusyBaker. Ongoing. Fluff, Angst, Pining, Smut, Eating Disorders. Astarion is a model working in a cafe, Gale is an author. When their paths come together, they find that a life worth living is better in good company.

The Season by Linnetagain. Ongoing. Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Angst. In which Astarion is an ex-olympic figure skater and Gale is a famous musician. They get paired together as Dancing on Ice's first ever same sex couple. Shenanigans ensue.

Hustle by Nivasi. 65,463 words. Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Humour, Romcom. Astarion works hard on his YouTube channel, sometimes spending weeks on the beautiful fashion films that show off his handcrafted gowns. His audience may be small but he's proud of his content. Which is why it's so godsdamned irritating when the self-named 'Wizard Of Waterdeep' starts posting hideous videos of his endless rambling and gets two million subscribers almost overnight.

Afterlife by cweepa, Dummptruck. Ongoing. Dark Comedy, Drama, Romance, Slow Burn, Thought Provoking. Amidst the softly thrumming melancholy of a dystopian, cyber-punk city, former corporate-rat Astarion Ancunín, who has long since lost the will to live, finds himself in possession of a G-413 or "Gale" - an amnesiac android who, strangely enough, enjoys living.

The Fall of the House of Szarr by dirty_whorchata. 69,175. Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Cazador related tags. Beauty, tradition, and perfection: these are the pillars of the House of Szarr, a centuries-old perfumery owned by creative director and artist Cazador Szarr and shouldered by its next-to-nobody nose, Astarion Ancunín.

Overworked, underpaid, and determined to claw his way out, Astarion finds the perfect blend of unusual charm and genius—and the key to toppling the house for good—when he meets chemistry professor Gale Dekarios.

The Allure of Thermodynamics by rynzler. 3,650 words. Dr. Dekarios's students try to rescue him from the handsome stranger that comes into class to shamelessly flirt the physics professor into a flustered mess. A cute one-shot.

Ex’s and Oh’s by Kalaide. 81,028 words. Angst, Feels, Romcom. Astarion encounters Gale a year after their breakup at a reunion, only to find him with someone new. As Astarion struggles to move on, he can't help but feel the pull of their past, especially when Gale seems intent on reconnecting.

I Carried A Watermelon? By SpellSparkler. Ongoing. Strangers to Lovers, Smut. Astarion didn’t believe in love stories. But life had accidentally thrown him into one of his own when he meets Gale, who is in the middle of a messy divorce, on an airplane. 

hanging on your words by vampyreerotica. 10,147 words. Written for the Bloodweave 31 gays of summer event, day 12: mail. Professor AU where Gale and Astarion argue over a double-booking and slowly fall in love.

Kintsugi by autumnpicker. 8,438 words. Mystra’s grooming, Hurt/ Comfort, Anxiety. Written for the “Pride” prompt for the 31 Gays of Summer event from the Bloodweave Brainrot Discord! Five times Gale had his heart broken at Pride. And the one time he didn’t.

folie à deux by binder. 8,344 words. Reincarnation. Astarion is a college student plagued by dreams of a life he's never lived.

Memento Vivere by HylianWorrier. 11,666 words. Gothic, Spooky. Hopelessly lost in a rainstorm, Gale happens upon a beautiful country mansion. Hoping to find help making his way back to his car he finds himself enraptured by the hospitable homeowner.

All I Want For Christmas (Is My Mother To Stop Meddling) by IndiWritings. 24,297 words. Fake Relationship, Feelings Realisation, Christmas. When Gale's mother threatens to invite his ex-wife Mystra to spend Christmas with them, Astarion offers to pose as Gale's boyfriend instead. What could possibly go wrong?

Part 1: In Universe Canon Multi-Chapter - 15 fics

Part 2: In Universe Canon One-Shots - 17 fics.

Part 3: In Universe Canon Divergent - 16 fics.

Part 4: In Universe Post-Canon Multi-Chapter - 20 fics. 

Part 5: In Universe Post-Canon One Shots - 14 fics. 

[frenzyarts]

hi!! I was recently at a book store and had absolutely no idea what to get. you seem to have impeccable taste in everything (homestuck, the locked tomb, ur whole aesthetic) so I was wondering if you had a list of books you'd recommend! have a good one (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

This is very flattering, thank you 🥰 I like a lot of novels and comics so it would probably be easier for me to narrow it down if you gave me a genre you like but if you’re open to anything here are some of my favs!

Beauty by Hubert and Kerascoët

“When the repulsively ugly Coddie unintentionally saves a fairy from a spell, she does not understand the poisonous nature of the wish granted her by the fairy. The village folk no longer see her as repulsive and stinking of fish—they now perceive her as magnetically beautiful—which does not help her in her village. A young local lord saves her, but it soon becomes apparent that Coddie's destiny may be far greater than anyone ever imagined. Caustic and flamboyant, this fairy tale offers grownups an engrossing take on the nature and corrupting power of beauty, in our age of obsession with it.” (The art in this book is so so so gorgeous. Also I love dark fairytales)

Not Simple by Natsume Ono

“Ian, a young man with a fractured family history, travels from Australia to England to America in the hope of realizing his dreams and reuniting with his beloved sister. His story unfolds backwards through the framing narrative of Jim, a reporter driven to capture Ian’s experiences in a novel: not simple. A story within a story, a book within a book, a tale about the search for family, for an emotional home.” (This one has some really dark themes, highly recommended looking up content warnings before you read. It WILL make you cry, but it’s one of the most beautifully plotted novels I’ve ever read. Also the art style rules.)

Not even gonna bother to introduce this one cause it’s so famous but if you’ve never read the Hobbit, I highly recommend it. Especially because bookstores are always making pretty gilded versions of the book cause it’s so famous.

A short story but: Ligeia by Edgar Allen Poe (sorry I know he sucked) but that short story and the poem it features left a big impression on me. I feel like I can’t describe what the story is about without spoiling it, but if you like stories about mysterious and beautiful women who are involved with the supernatural and death, then you might like this short story!

Okay last one since I don’t want to make this list too long (I have a lot more recommendations if you’d like, these were the first that came to mind!)

Snotgirl by Bryan Lee O’Malley and Leslie Hung

I’m struggling to find a description for the series as a whole, probably because it’s still slowly being released and it comes out in monthly issues (you can usually find the issues compiled into graphic novel format in bookstores, which I still need to get, I only have the issues) But basically it’s about a social media influencer named Lottie Person. She gets wrapped up in a sapphic supernatural romance with a big mystery element. If you’re a fan of the famed “toxic yuri” then this is the series for you, 100%. I’ve actually been meaning to do a re-read 👀

[chelseydavidson]

Creative Advertising Exercise

As suggested by Kyle Gracey, I decided to partake in this good, simple, basic creative concept exercise for advertising students. It, for sure, got the juices flowing. To see the original exercise, please visit the Quora thread here. 

Step One: The Long List

Here are my 30 ways to use this precarious little device that is definitely, 100% NOT a safety pin:

Socks clips for laundry

Keychain

Single-lady dress zipper-upper

Punk-rock style earring/nose ring/lip ring

Eyelash separator 

Static cling remover (wearable)

Fishing hook

Crud remover (for those hard to reach places)

Antitheft device for zippered purses or backpacks

Body piercing tool

Splinter remover

Clothespin

Spare button holder 

Paper clip holder

Earrings holder

Bandage pin

Fidget tool

Finger muscle strengthening device 

Curtain closer

Temporary clothes tailoring device (holds your cuffs and hems in place)

Lockpick

Blackhead remover

Diaper pin

Drawstring rethreader

Lottery card scratcher

Fine-line tattooing tool

Mitten-to-coat sleeve securing device 

Precision low-depth engraver

Cleaner for Elmer's glue dispenser

Braid strand/section holder

Step Two: Narrowing Down

After much deliberation and the establishment of a shortlist, my friend chose:

Single-lady dress zipper-upper

Step Three: The Product in a Nutshell

- Start by giving it a name: 

GotYaBack

Up And At ‘Em

HoneyCanU

Reach Plus

Lift Queen

Wardrobe Wiz

Flexi-Fastener

Bendy Buddy

Flip the Zip

Self Zip

Teeth Chief

Solo Zip

Fast Fastener

Close-It Helper

Together Pin

Rise Guys

Back Buddy

Princess Reach

Seam Queen

Lady Lift

Clothes Pro

Contort Clip

Seam Team

Behind the Seams

Dress SOS

Zipper Rescue

Spine Saver

Dress Reach

Zippy Top

Easy Zip

- Write 2-3 paragraphs about why I should buy your device:

According to Statistics Canada, as of 2016, single-person households became the status quo for the first time in Canada's 150-year history. That's a lot of women struggling to reach that dress zipper and drag it all the way up. Have you ever felt the snag? Zipper stuck midway up that only a contortionist could reach? We've GotYaBack™ – literally.

Next time you're getting ready for that hot date or important business meeting, let's get you ready without separated shoulders or pinched nerves. Just attach GotYaBack to your zipper and loop the string through it, give it a steady yank up over your shoulder and above your head, and your zipper will slide up to salute you the way it should. So, next time, don't wait for your shoulders to start clicking with your hands behind your back like a common criminal – use GotYaBack, your new best friend.

- Now, create a one sentence headline that captures the idea: 

When your zipper's stuck midway up that only a contortionist could reach, we've GotYaBack™ – literally.

Step Four: Lay it out!

[kiunlo]

Bird Identification guide for beginners!

Hello there! My name is Ash, and this is my guide to identifying birds as a beginner! Please keep in mind that this is not THE ultimate best ever way of figuring out how to identify birds, these are just the things that have helped me personally as someone who has only been identifying birds for about a year/two years (I didn’t bother to count okay?), and who was very recently also a beginner and having a hard time trying to figure out which birds are what! This goes over pretty much EVERY single little thing that’s helped me, so this might be a long post lmao. I hope it helps somebody out!

Also, as a note, I’ve mostly used Australian birds as examples because I’m Australian and most knowledgeable about Australian birds, however there is no reason that these techniques can’t work for birds all over the world!

Step 1: Getting to know your local birds!

The first step to being able to identify birds that you see in your daily life, is to first understand what birds actually live near you in the first place! This can be a bit tricky at first, because not every single town in the world is going to have a 100% accurate list of birds that live in the area, and some places might not even have a list at all! The best thing for you to do is to start reading books or articles about birds that live in your state, country, city etc. This means going to the library and finding some bird field guides, or perusing through bird lists online (searching up “birds of new york” for example, is a great start). For an example of what I personally did, I borrowed a book from my local library called “Readers Digest: Complete Book of Australian Birds” that had a MASSIVE list of most birds that live in Australia, and I wrote down all of the birds that I definitely recognised as birds that I had seen before in my area, including the super common and easy to spot birds such as magpies, crows and kookaburras!

I would usually recommend a bird field guide as a physical book, ebook, illegally downloaded pdf or whatever if you can, because most of those field guides will have maps attached to every single bird, showing you exactly where their usual range is, which if you went for a country-wide bird book like I did, is very helpful in narrowing down which birds most likely live in your local area, that you can eventually look out for! These books also tell you what they eat, where they nest, when they migrate, etc. which can be helpful if instead of trying to ID a bird, you are actively searching for a specific species of bird to take photos of!

Step 2: Have a camera and/or notepad on you at all times

If you are super duper determined to identify a bird, the best thing you can do is take a photo or video of the bird. Videos are usually better because if the bird decides to make a sound, that will be an extra piece of information that you can use to better identify the bird. The second best thing, if you are too poor to own a camera or you have other reasons for why having a camera on you is unfeasible, is to have a physical small little notepad on you with a pen or pencil, to write down the the things about the bird that you’re seeing, or if you feel like it, to draw a little doodle of the bird you see (no matter how “bad” the drawing is!)

And when I say keep a camera or notepad on you at all times, I really mean it! Because the times when I have seen or heard a strange ass bird that I have struggled to identify, I have never had a camera on me, and it has ALWAYS been to my detriment when it comes to attempting to identify a bird. Again, the second best thing to do is to draw the bird the moment that you see it! It doesn’t have to be perfect, as long as you get the general shape of the body and beak relatively close, it’s better than no picture at all!

Do not beat yourself up about not being able to follow this step, or deciding that TODAY you will not see a cool bird and also you are busy and therefor you won’t need your camera or notepad on you when you go out (the time that you will usually see a cool bird lmao), because we have all been there (me included....so many times). It just means that identifying the bird will be a bit more difficult- BUT, it is not impossible!

Step 3: So you saw a bird...what now?

If you saw a bird in your local area, you may be entitled to financial compensation. Haha just kidding. Those birds aren’t going to pay for the emotional damage you took trying to identify its ass.

But for real. What now? Well, if you took a photo and/or video of it, or you drew a basic drawing of it, congratulations! You just skipped the really fucking hard part. If you didn’t take a photo or video, or was unable to because it was too fast or you didn’t have your camera or notepad on you (again, don’t beat yourself up about it), the second best thing you can do is observe and memorise it’s most basic features and behaviours. This will help you figure out what type of bird you have.

WHAT KIND OF BEAK IS THAT?

The beak is one of the most important parts of a bird, because it uses that thing to eat and stuff. The shape of a birds beak can tell you what type of bird it is and what it eats, and this piece of information alone can literally tell you SO much about the bird, without even having to properly identify it. The picture below will help you to understand the different types of bird beaks and what they’re used for.

IS THE BIRD IN THE WATER?

If the answer is yes, you have just narrowed down your bird by a shit ton. Whether it’s just a wader or a full time water-loving bird, you’ll find that searching through a list of waterfowl that live in your area is a lot easier than searching through every single bird that lives in your area ever.

WHAT COLOUR IS IT?

Now, you don’t have to memorise every single colour that is on the body of the bird, especially with a bird that has 5 or more colours on its feathers, but memorising the most prominent feather colours, the beak colour, and the leg colour will be very helpful! If you can see the eyes of the bird, memorising the eye colour could be very helpful too, as birds can sometimes have very unique eye colours not seen in most other animals, which can significantly aid in bird identification- especially if its eyes are a bright blue or a red colour!

SHAPE AND SIZE?

Is your bird big or small? Is it fat or skinny? Does it have a weirdly long neck? Did you see its neck stretch out like crazy and then it went back to its normal size like nothing ever happened? Does it have long legs or short ones? Are its feet fucking weird? These are the questions you have to ask yourself when observing a bird.

WHAT WAS IT DOING?

Did you see it eat something? Was it doing a weird mating dance in another birds general direction? Was it swooping or hunting another animal (or another bird)? Did it display any odd or unique behaviours? Write that down! That’s seriously important information! Especially the eating part!

DID IT MAKE A NOISE?

If it didn’t, then you can skip this part! If it did, however, and you did not get a recording of it, that’s okay. But you will need to use your ultra super duper brain powers and do everything in your power to remember that shit to the best of your ability (which can be tricky as hell and can lead to you misidentifying a bird if the bird call is all you have to go off of).

Step 4: Research time!

Now that you have taken the photo/video of your bird, done a little doodle, or simply memorised and written down everything you can about your birdy, now it’s time to get down to business and actually do some research.

The first thing you need to do is the most simple thing ever, which can be done for most well recognised birds: Type in the description of your bird into google. Yes, I am serious. Sometimes typing in “black bird with red eyes and red beak waterfowl [STATE OR COUNTRY NAME]” is all you need to do to find the identity of your bird! If this worked for you, congratulations! You were lucky this time....but you might not be lucky next time! If this fails to work, there are still plenty of other options, and while these can be kinda tedious and time consuming, it is worth it in the end!

There are two websites which can be really helpful if you have some type of idea of what bird you’re looking for, but simply looking up the description didn’t work: Wikipedia, and Xeno-Canto. These are especially helpful if you use them together.

Wikipedia is good because it will have a huge list of all birds that are known to live in your country. Xeno-Canto is good because it is a website dedicated to bird calls all over the world, of every single bird to ever exist (and even ones that are extinct!) And it MOST IMPORTANTLY, has a map of where the bird can be found, which is helpful when ruling out birds that are somewhat similar to the bird you’re looking for, but actually live on the other side of the country (therefor, it’s not your bird!)

The first step towards figuring out the specific species that your bird belongs to, is to figure out what type of bird it is, which you can do by observing the shape and size of the bird, alongside it’s beak shape (which we took a small look at in step 3). Here are some silhouettes of different bird types.

And now, below is an example of how I would find a specific bird through trail, error, and ruling out birds that are NOT the bird I’m looking for.

Lets say that the bird I’m looking for was in the water, and was clearly some type of duck or goose, but I couldn’t really tell which one because it was a bit far away. That means that I’m looking for SOME type of waterfowl. I will then go to Wikipedia to look up a list of ALL birds in Australia, and then go down into the “ducks, geese and waterfowl” section, where I will find a list of all waterfowl in Australia. I will then click on each link for each waterfowl, to get a quick look at the image of the waterfowl. If it looks nothing like my bird, I rule that bird out. If I do find a bird that looks very similar to the one I saw or took a photo of, then I will type in the name of the bird into Xeno-Canto, and look at the map area section, to see exactly where this birds natural range is. If it’s shown to be in an area that is nowhere near where I saw the bird, then I rule that bird out too! If I find a bird that matches what I saw, and it’s in the same area that I live in, then, if I heard the bird make a sound, I will usually listen to the bird calls found beneath the map section, and see if it matches. If not, then I will continue to listen to that birds calls, because guess what, birds can and do make a variety of different sounds based on the situation! Once I’m truly sure this bird is not making the correct calls at all, then I will tentatively rule it out.

If, after all of this, I finally find a bird that seems to match the look, area and sound of the bird I initially saw, I will write the name of the bird down and KEEP GOING down the list of waterfowl until I reach the end, because there is always a chance that there is a bird that better matches the appearance, sound and location of the bird I saw. Once I have 1 or more bird names written down, then it’s up to me to chose which bird best matches the bird that I saw.

You might not get a 100% for sure identification, especially if some of the birds in your local area are sorta similar to each other, and that’s okay, but going through this whole process will help you to improve your birdy research skills, and you’ll get faster and faster at it over time, and you’ll start to memorise common birds often found in your local area by during this research.

IMPORTANT NOTES BEFORE I CONTINUE

Sometimes, female birds and male birds look different to each other! Sometimes, young birds look different to adult birds! Sometimes a bird in breeding plumage looks different to a bird that isn’t in breeding plumage! You might even get lucky and see a bird with a rare colour mutation, meaning that the bird does not look like how the rest of the species normally does! You must keep this in mind when trying to identify a bird, because sometimes these birdies will throw you these types of curve-balls at you without you even knowing. Here are some examples below of some birds that look different to each other, despite being the same species!

Step 5: If all else fails, ask somebody who knows stuff about birds

Sometimes the best way to figure out the identity of a bird is to ask somebody else who knows more shit about birds then you do! For me, I usually ask my mum since she knows a lot of stuff about birds. For you, that could be somebody on the internet, or a friend you know who is a birdwatcher, or some blog on tumblr that specialises in knowing shit about birds. With more people and more perspectives at your disposal, you are a lot more likely to get the true identification of the mysterious bird you are trying to identify! Just don’t be pushy, rude or demanding! Always be polite :)

Step 6: I am going to make you identify a bird now. LOOK AT MY BIRD, BOY (gender neutral).

I bet you didn’t think I was going to quiz you on the knowledge I just imparted onto you, but I absolutely am going to do that. I will be using “obscure” Australian birds that most non-Australians won’t know about, since I know that most people that’ll read this will probably not be Australian, therefore you will likely have never seen these birds before, meaning that you will actually have to use the techniques I have told you about. If you are Australian and are into birds, you will have an advantage over everyone else (lmao). The only hint you will be given is that...these birds are found in Australia :)

DO NOT go looking into the notes for answers unless you truly are having a tough time, I really want you to try and figure this out on your own! But also I can’t tell you what to do lol. I just want you to give it your best shot, alright? Are you ready? Okay, here we go!

BIRD NUMBER 1

BIRD NUMBER 2

BIRD NUMBER 3

Did you manage to identify the birds? If so, congrats on using your newly acquired bird researching skills! If not, that's okay. After all, it's a skill that must be honed, not one that you automatically gain!

The End!

I hope you enjoyed my beginners guide to identifying birds! These are not the only techniques you can use to identify birds, there are plenty of websites, tools, books etc. that can help you out with identifying birds, but these are the ways that have best helped me out when I’ve been confused about the identity of a bird. If you’re better than me at identifying birds, feel free to add your own additions that have helped you to become better at IDing birds! The more information the merrier <3

[kingsofneon]

It's WIP Wednesday time y'all, which means: I post a list of fic wips. Y'all send an ask with a fic title from the list, I write at least 3 sentences/for ten minutes. Lessgo 💪

Sabo//Lucci - cat fight

Tim//Kon - fake it till you break it

Marco//Ace - crybaby

TBK - horny photography

??? - wheel spin (kinktober req)

"Okay, you gotta tell me if I fuck this up," he says, and then leans down to suck Kon's dick. "Holy shit," Tim says in his peripheral, and Kon makes a noise that sounds like a startled, mangled yelp of Bart's name. He's not 100% paying attention, because at this point his attention has narrowed to the singular taste of skin and salt on his tongue, the way Kon rests heavy in his mouth, and he's being careful to breathe in through his nose so he doesn't have to come up for air. He knows he's drooling around Kon's cock, tongue pressed flat, but when he teases his fingers down the line from his mouth, Kon only jerks with a cry. "Bart, thumbs up if Kon can put his hand in your hair,” Tim says, and Bart throws a thumb up immediately, a happy shiver running down his spine. Hair pats? In the middle of giving Kon a blowjob? Fuck yeah. Kon's hand, when it settles, is so soft that Bart closes his eyes and hums around Kon's cock, taking a moment to rest and swallow. The warm sensation along his scalp is blissful, and when Kon gently tangles his hand into Bart's hair, he pulls back to lick at the tip of Kon's cock again in reward, like thanks. It makes Kon's hand tighten, and Bart lets out his own moan, sinking his mouth back down on Kon's cock and using his free hand to press Kon's thigh wider. Muscle jumps under his palm, and Kon's voice breaks on a whimper. Pressure barely makes itself known against his head, and Bart grins at the thought that Kon's fighting himself, trying not to push down or buck upwards, so eager for Bart's mouth that he's struggling for control. It makes him want to move faster, so he does; body tense with the effort it takes to keep to real time and yet so utterly delighted by how this pace is wrecking Kon's self-control that he doesn't even want to think about slipping into the speedforce. If he does, what's to say that won't be where this all ends?

[1d1195]

Oh I learned French too in highschool! It was honestly COMPLETELY USELESS BAHAH like now I just remember the names of certain fruits lol and I can understand how difficult it may be to see your students struggling so it’s can kind of difficult to not correlate that with how “good” of a teacher you are. Especially since you just want them to be successful in general and see them flourish! But I’m sure you’re not horrible! The fact that you are actively TRYING and not blaming the student is already more than enough! That in itself is already so helpful and yeah it will be difficult learning no matter the language it’s in but I’m sure you’re a great support system for all your students!!!

And those sound like such good books! And omg I didn’t know you were like into WWII themed stories!?! That’s so cute and honestly I see the vision! I went through a phase where I was obsessed with the 1920s, I know it’s not the same but I get it! And you should totally write something like that one day with Harry! You would obviously SLAY THAT SHIT!!!

I use to be such an avid reader but this year I just stopped and I think I made it halfway on one book that wasn’t assigned this year :( but I loved your book reading summary and I might just have to check it out during my break!

Omg no you aren’t ancient! But I get it being labeled as the “mom” bc I am sadly am one too 😔 I can’t help it lol and yeah I’ll be 21! And it’s so sweet you remembered! And I may be a psych major but I’m so unhinged it’s WILD lol and it’s so cool you live on the east coast, I’ve always been interested in visiting!

I have to thank YOU bc my answers are so long😭 and I love reading what you have to say fic or not fic related!-💜

I was also obsessed with the 1920s! If I could go back to school, I think history would be up there. I'm fascinated by it. I feel like everyone goes through a 1920s phase--like a right of passage.

One my first stories to break 100 notes on here, actually (it's on the garbage section of my blog so I wouldn't recommend reading it) was my "first big break." It was set in the 1920s. But at the time it was like super exciting and important to me. I think I reread it not too long ago and I think it's cute still, but very cringy. You can tell I wrote it when I was without a lot of real world and/or relationship experience and only read Sarah Dessen in my free time. I would love to do it over though. I have a mob/1920s vibe sort of story on my list of things to write in the future. So we'll see! 😊

I used to devour books. Then in high school/college the perfectionist in me just stopped and deemed the time too important to be reading for fun when I had scholarships to apply for and a degree to earn. I've got like 40 unread books on my shelf staring at me daily. But like I mentioned, I got back into the swing of things this year so hopefully I can narrow it further over the coming months. I would get married in a Barnes and Noble probably--it's one of my top 5 favorite stores and I would say my toxic trait is I can't leave without buying a book. I'm sure you'll get back to reading when you have the time. School is important and your brain only has so much time to handle everything.

I love it out East here. tbh, I don't think I could ever live anywhere else. I'm not sure if you saw my playlist thing (I wouldn't expect you to notice it) but I'm on a Noah Kahan kick rn. Several of his songs are about growing up in New England and it's like nostalgic even though I live here. Idk, it's like someone read my mind and put it in a song. It's magical.

That brain cell of ours working overtime being the mom of our friend groups. I remember in college it felt like a second job keeping everyone on track and I agree, I couldn't even help it! They were adults but it didn't feel like they were adults.

Thanks for indulging in my ramblings and I love your long responses (obviously--look at mine 🤦‍♀️). It's really nice to talk with you!

P.S. one of my favorite quotes is from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland: "Yes, you're mad, bonkers, off the top of your head...but...I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are.” So if you feel unhinged I think it's okay. I think the best people are 💕

[grogusdads]

due to popular demand I have created a longer list of weird as shit names in star wars in honor of glup shitto 

there r many other names that could be included on this list so feel free to add more but here are one hundred different character names from the star wars franchise

1. Salacious B. Crumb

2. Elan Sleazebaggano

3. Droopy McCool

4. Poggle the Lesser

5. Sy Snootles

6. Wicket W. Warrick

7. Therm Scissorpunch

8. Darth Icky

9. Kkkt

10. Sha'a Gi

11. Ima-Gun Di

12. Sio Bibble

13. Yaddle

14. Yarael Poof

15. Nien Nunb

16. Roo Roo Page

17. Jar Jar Binks

18. Skeeto Rawk

19. Kit Fisto

20. Yirt

21. Ecclessis Figg

22. Lord Scufflemug

23. Wazado

24. Chog

25. Flufto

26. Savage Opress

27. Kaggle

28. Toob Ancher

29. And-Yees

30. Preens B'oola

31. Ghana Gleemort

32. Sudswater Dillifay Glon

33. Tup Tup Grizbain

34. Snet Groot

35. J'Meeb Gumb

36. Jook-jook H'broozin

37. Den Handsome

38. Fume Pachoola

39. Neepers Panpick

40. Beezar Pert

41. Boorgo Cadevon

42. Soobu Javeedo

43. Jaxxon T. Tumperakki

44. Jorthal

45. Mambo Farls

46. Meck Feem

47. Don Danga

48. Gizmel Gam

49. Jek Porkins

50. Greedo

51. Dud Bolt

52. Bib Fortuna

53. Beezer Fortuna

54. Ello Asty

55. Slowen Lo

56. Sweitt Concorkill

57.  Dexter Jettster

58. Whorm Loathsom

59. Stomeroni Starck

60. Wol Cabbashite

61. Ponda Baba

62. Darth Millenial

63. Master Yollo

64. Swagg

65. Freedon Nadd

66. Soon Bayts

67. Bojo Boopa

68. Tomith Garbis

69. Laz Lazzaz

70. Stoghin Learz

71. Bevel Lemelisk

72. Sithless Leethe

73. Jeremay Sann'tiago

74. Bescat Offdurmin

75. Juvard Illip Oggurobb

76. Banjaxx Wab

77. Droo Wabbin

78. Cornelius Wagglehorn

79. Yathros Condorius the First

80. Godiban Bakoosta

81. Jorm Whistler Mackenni

82. Yeb Yeb Adem'thorn

83. Yeorg Captison

84. Grish B'reen

85. Dugo Bagy

86. Skig Banos

87. Hohass Ekwesh

88. Snugli Explevey

89. Forg F'Lopo

90. Shud Haloo

91. Pons Limbi

92. Cunbus Locb

93. Lorgrombo

94. Ebe E. Endocott

95. Squedge Eepsey

96. Feen Fenoob

97. Zobyteeg

98. Bennbus Polag

99. Sata Neek

100. Babu Frik

[nectar-cellar]

matthias :3

i’ve used him as a model a few times but have rarely taken any solo pics of him.

i made him to be the protagonist of a royal simblr story i had thought of, but then i ran into some obstacles such as: major writer’s block, distracted by cc-making, the fact that the dronningslund world lags like hell on my computer, etc.

i was heavily inspired by the royal simblrs i follow on here.

some random plot points i thought of:

he is consistently ranked at the top of the “hottest royals” lists in tabloids. at the start, his public image is perfect and he is adored by the media. young, stylish, progressive, and movie-star handsome, he is the perfect bachelor and “the people’s prince” or at least that’s what his PR team wants you to believe. however, his presence in pop culture makes some people not take him seriously as a political figure and leader.

he has a younger brother who is the ~wild one~ of the family. since matthias is the crown prince, he faces strong pressure to keep up the facade of perfection, and he envies the freedom and relative lack of scrutiny his younger brother has. black sheep/golden child family dynamic. however they are still close and are each other’s confidantes since they have no one else who “gets it”.

he starts a controversial relationship with a simerican pop star after a visit to simerica for a fancy event. the relationship gets serious fast as they are both infatuated with each other, but it also becomes toxic the more serious it gets. the uneven power dynamic of the relationship brings out the worst in him as he struggles to cope with the pressure of having this highly publicized, polarizing, “forbidden” relationship and the uncertainty of what his future life would look like with her in it since she is an outsider to his high-society social circle.

at some point he ends up having this homoerotic enemies-to-lovers thing with a childhood rival that confuses both of them. a part of matthias is secretly pleased to discover this fact about himself, that he might not be 100% straight after all. he knows it would piss a lot of people off if they knew. another fuck-you to their narrow-minded expectations of who he ought to be. the icing on the cake: their steamy secret encounter shuts his rival’s slick mouth up. not sure where in the timeline i would include this but i really want it to happen lol

the story is really more about the pop star’s journey through fame. she goes from an unknown singer stuck with a shitty music label to a worldwide sensation overnight due to her new relationship with matthias. she thinks she’s been rescued from her troubles, but really she has just traded one gilded cage for another. the story would be told from both of their perspectives. how she realizes that she is still trapped by the people around her. how the fame feels hollow because it is only due to her relationship, not because of her music which nobody seems to care about. how she eventually gathers the courage to say no to this crown prince who everyone thinks is perfect, and reject the fairytale life of royalty so many women would kill to have. how matthias struggles with his conflicting feelings about his future that has been decided for him since birth. how the relationship makes him realize his own flaws and bitterness and cynicism and desperate need to feel in control. how their relationship makes him question what he really wants out of life. how he grows into the next version of who he needs to be. how they both have to find their own ways forward after their whirlwind romance and messy breakup.

i need to create this pop star character!! i already have her name picked out i just need a face claim. 😩 

as i create the rest of the supporting cast i think i’ll have more ideas for how to stir up drama and shape the plot.

[slashbitch2]

The Very Nosy Neighbour

this fic was 100% inspired by this one here , but I mean it practically wrote itself I couldn't resist

NSFW

You can't remember much past waking up in an unfamiliar room- though 'room' is really a sugarcoated description, as in reality it qualifies more as some kind of cavern. You're sitting in a chair, ankles and wrists bound by an indistinguishable material. Whatever the binds are made of feels strong, so any attempts to struggle against it are futile. Yet, in spite of what really should be an extremely stressful situation, you find yourself completely relaxed. You briefly wonder whether you've been drugged, but with every sense feeling fully operational, that theory is soon dismissed.

Instead of choosing a more logical response to the circumstances you've found yourself in, you decided to focus more on your surroundings: not to form any resemblance of an escape plan, but simply out of curiosity. Although, the investigation is equally as ineffective. You're unable to name anything around you except for stone walls, strange (glowing?) vines and weird symbols carved above a few archways. Everything beyond that is either entirely lost to you, or shrouded in darkness.

With little else to do, you start to think back on the events that led you there, trying to glean any useful information from the blurry memories. The clearest image, therefore the most recent, is the smirking face of a woman, Agnes you realise. Though the malicious glint in her eyes doesn't quite match your perception of the nosy neighbour. But where is she now? Is she also in danger? You may not have known Agnes for very long, but are reluctant to let any harm come to her regardless.

With a clearer head, you consider calling for help, but a small voice at the back of your subconscious warns you against this. And the voice sounds smart, so you elect to listen to it. But what should you do instead? Where did this voice come from? And most importantly, should you trust it? Luckily, you aren't given much time to overthink the decision.

While trying to tune into this voice, footsteps echo in the distance, gradually drawing nearer. You hold your breath as the sound suddenly stops, leaving your eyes scanning the vicinity for any movement. The unpleasant reality dawns on you all too quickly: the footsteps were approaching from behind you.

“Well, well, well.” Someone says playfully, then snorts as they start walking closer. "Sorry to be a total cliché. I couldn't resist." It's Agnes. She narrows her eyes and smirks, folding her arms as she examines your constrained form. Subjected to her scrutiny, you find yourself swallowing, but your throat is too dry. Other small discomforts also become noticeable; your cramped limbs, aching back and the bruises on your hands. Well at least you put up a fight. The more rational part of you, however, realises that your hands are no longer bound. You stare down at them, flexing each finger as if checking they were all still fully functional.

Something suddenly knocks into your head and you grimace. Left reeling from the impact, you realise that you're slightly nauseated. Though not enough to stop you from reaching out to grasp the floating cup of water. The fact that the glass is suspended in mid-air doesn't go unnoticed, rather ignored, since there's too much happening simultaneously to comprehend any of it in sufficient detail. You swirl the liquid round, hesitant to drink, unwilling to trust your captor's apparent mercy.

"Drink up, dear." Agnes drags a chair forward, which seems to have just appeared out of thin air. She sits backwards on it, legs spread and arms resting on the back casually. "That's all you're getting until we're done here." The tone of her voice is both threatening and teasing. You're reluctant to admit it's quite a turn on.

One glance up at her prying expression and you relent, downing the chilled water way too quickly. Though you aren't given a chance to mourn your impatience, as with an effortless wave of her hand, Agnes refills the glass. While you sip at the water, she refuses to tear her eyes away from you for even a second. It's slightly disconcerting.

“Now," She claps her hands, startling you. "I assume you know why you’re here?”

“Not really.” You confess, unable to pinpoint why anyone would go to so much effort to kidnap you, especially Agnes, who up to this point had been an eccentric yet kind neighbour.

She sighs, more for show than anything else, and rubs at her temple. "Come on Y/N, let's not play dumb now."

Embarrassingly, a heat begins to pool deep in your gut, but you quickly dismiss the unwarranted lust. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh really?" She quirks an eyebrow, sitting upright. "You really have no idea?" The inquiry is ridiculing, and you can see that your naivety is starting to annoy her.

All you can do is shake your head and pray the sincerity is reflected in your eyes.

"Okay." She slams her hands down on her thighs. "I guess we'll have to go about this the hard way then, toots." A sharp gesture and your hands are bound before you once again.

By the time you're looking up, she's striding toward you with purpose, which does nothing to ease the building heat between your legs. Her hands clasp on the armrests either side, essentially trapping you, not like escape would've been possible without the extra precaution. Up close you finally recognize this isn't Agnes- in fact it never has been. There's a feral yet wise appearance to her, the facade of nosy neighbour dissolved in an instance to be replaced by a deranged, frighteningly powerful woman (or witch, you're undecided).

Despite your better judgement, you're unable to stop yourself from asking. "Who are you?" Your voice barely breaches a whisper, but she's standing close enough that nothing less intimate is required.

She looks mildly impressed, the corner of her mouth twitching almost indiscernibly. "Agatha Harkness." She extends a hand, smirking upon realisation that you're a little too tied up at the minute to reciprocate. "Lovely to meet you."

You swallow again, finding your throat to be a little less dry. "Likewise." Then decide to take another risk. "So what do you want from me?"

“Wanda's true identity.” She replies so quickly that you almost miss it, looking at you with an eagerly expectant expression.

Agatha's question confuses you further. “I don’t know what you mean.” Although your answer is honest, something at the back of your mind hisses lies.

"There's no need to lie here." Her patient humour had disappeared. "Trust me, no one will hear you, so drop the act."

For some unbeknown reason, her accusation angers you. "I'm not putting on an act, I don't know why I'm here or what you want from me." The bravery dissipates all of a sudden as you remember that you're not exactly in the position to command such authority. "Please, stop this."

Agatha purses her lips, stands up and turns away from you. She calmly moves forwards a few paces, and in the short amount of time you manage to convince yourself that she's given up. Until in a completely unprovoked move, she swings her hands to the left, sending her chair crashing into the wall in frustration. Whether this is part of her interrogation performance or not, it works. Your heart starts racing, and confusingly, the awkward heat between your legs pulses.

She runs a hand through her hair, still facing away from you. "Don't make this any harder harder than it needs to be." You can practically hear her grinding her teeth, but don't doubt that she was getting some enjoyment out of the situation.

"I can tell you that Wanda is my sister and only real family, that I moved to Westview with her and that I couldn't live without her." You start listing off some basic facts, desperate to prove to Agatha that nothing is hidden. That you're normal.

"What about your brother?" She swivels round, clicking her fingers as she tries to recall something. "Pietro!" She exclaims.

"Pietro..." You falter. Why does the name sound so familiar? The nausea worsens. You shake off the feeling. "Never heard of him."

“Liar.” In one swift movement, Agatha is right by your ear. The feeling of her lips brushing against your skin causes you to close your eyes. The close proximity was becoming overwhelming, and your body had chosen to react in a rather unfortunate way. Admittedly, you'd always had a thing for Agnes, but Agatha was on a whole other level. You dreaded to open your eyes, worried that she'd noticed your current state. Instead, you internally begged for mercy.

“Don't go all shy on me now.” She pushes your shoulder into the chair, compelling you to open your eyes. "If you don't want to talk, I have other methods." Her hand raises, a purple flow emanating from the tips of her fingers. It crackles and sparks, as if the power was barely contained, yet as she shifts closer to brush the hair out of your face, you don't flinch. One finger remained touching your forehead, then traced down to your jaw, and finally along to grasp your chin.

While the vaguely sinister movement terrified you, it also forced you hold your breath and grip onto the armrests for dear life. Why you'd decided this was hot was beyond you considering the many connotations of her words, yet your thighs pressed tighter together as she drew closer. You attempted to turn your head to the side, longing for distraction, but her hold on you kept your head still.

"This won't be much fun for you, dear." She sighed in mock pity, her breath hot against your skin... Which just tipped you over the edge. As hard as you tried to stifle the noise, a broken moan escaped your lips. You'd definitely hit a low point here. Too ashamed to face your apparent arousal, you screwed your eyes shut. Although, at Agatha's silence, you relented and opened them barely a minute later.

To your relief, or perhaps dismay, the woman was grinning like a maniac. Her eyes flickered down to your parted lips as she chewed on her own. Then carefully, as if she were testing the waters, her fingers began to rub against your jaw, and upwards to your mouth. Your breath deceives you by hitching as her thumb slips between your lips, stroking your tongue. At the contact, you can't help but arch into the touch. Agatha chuckles.

"I take it back." She murmurs, removing her hand. "This will be fun." Although the intimidation factor prevails, there's a certain desire mirrored in Agatha's expression which cancels out any remaining common sense. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and even if you wanted to, there was little you could do to stop her. So, you give into your yearning, sighing as she climbs to sit on your lap. Immediately, her hand switches to gripping the back of your neck as she slams her mouth onto yours. You willingly indulge by opening further, allowing her tongue to slide between your lips. Her other hand lowers to grab at your chest, like she were trying to tug herself impossibly closer.

Without removing her lips, the hand massaging your chest shifts to your thigh. She still keeps her lips firmly pressed to yours, and with the lack of oxygen, you can feel yourself growing lightheaded. It almost feels like a challenge, one which you're determined to succeed at. Though when she eventually does break away, her hand suddenly slips between your thighs, and your breath is stolen from you once more. Wasting no time, she massages you through your clothes, dragging out an inevitable whine. The touch is both too much, and not enough. But judging by her malevolent smirk, that was exactly her intention.

Even though you were currently incapable of producing any reasonable thought, you still noticed that Agatha wasn't entirely unaffected. Her breathing was laboured, hips occasionally jerking against your thigh and eyes struggling to stay open. The influence you were having on her only encouraged you to moan louder, craving to see her equally dishevelled. Your plan seemed to momentarily fail as her hand retreated. But you'd certainly earned her attention.

She licks her lips, then abruptly changes her expression to look disturbingly like that of Agnes. "You wouldn't leave me out of the fun now, would you dear?" Her voice is high pitched as she basically sings her words. Although the question must've been rhetorical as doesn't await a response, instead you find your hands unbound, flung behind your back and bound together all in a matter of seconds. Then, she shifted her position, yanking your bodies closer so that your crotches were pressed together. She grunts, heaving forward to rest against you for a moment and regain her composure. And finally, without warning, starts to grind your hips together.

It doesn't take long for her movement to become more frantic, accompanied by her hair spilling onto her face. She remains impressively quiet, however, or perhaps you were just comparably loud. With the little pride you have left, you decide to take matters into your own hands, and start meeting each thrust with equal vigour. Miraculously, it works. She throws her head back with a remarkably loud moan, proceeded by change in strategy as she starts almost bouncing on top of you, hips losing their rhythm, pleasure overwhelming her. Startled by her lack of self-control, the heat in your stomach begins building exponentially fast. Your eyes slam shut.

A hand grasps onto your face. “Look at me!” She growls, then emphasises her demand by rolling her hips torturously slowly. The movement ceases. She leans her forehead against yours, staring directly into your eyes. “Come with me.” To your surprise, there's an audible plea in her voice.

At a loss for words, you nod. The pleasure had been building for so long that you knew it'd only take a few more grinds to push you over the edge. With your confirmation, Agatha resumes her thrusting, though soon succumbs, throwing her head back and uttering an exceptionally loud, high-pitched moan. She arches her back, pressing herself so far into you that the pleasure peaks. You groan, lurching backwards in a moment of pure bliss. All you can feel is Agatha, all you can think about is Agatha. Coming down from the high, you sigh and collapse forward to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

She tenses slightly at the contact, but soon relaxes into the strange embrace. You gently press your lips against her skin and feel her shiver, confirming your suspicion that it'd been a while since Agatha had received such affection. Motivated by a new, more innocent desire, you continue to pepper light kisses across her throat and behind her ear, simply enjoying the unexpectedly intimate moment.

Agatha finally breaks the silence, leaning away from your touch to look down at you curiously. "Wanda really has you under her mind control too, huh?"

Although still stuck in a post-coital haze, you muster enough brainpower to consider her words. "Mind control?"

"Oh, right." She smirks, a slight sadness perceptible in her eyes. "Forgot to mention." Before you can say anything, she swings one leg to the side, stiffly sliding off your lap and clasping her hands together. "You might want to reconsider where your loyalties lie, dear." She glances at you, then ambles to the opposite side of the room. "That's one fucked up family situation right there." Her voice teasingly calls out.

You feel yourself flush, strangely offended by her comment, and annoyed by her vagueness. "Like you can talk." Your response is a total shot in the dark, but must've hit a nerve since she slowly turns back to you, a suspicious expression upon her face. "Just a guess." You add, unwilling to know the details of whatever sensitive topic you'd just touched upon. Agatha easily shrugs it off, leaving behind a stifling silence. Eventually, it's a mixture of your own boredom and concern that prompts you to end the lull in conversation. "Are you still planning on interrogating me about something I know nothing about?"

"Oh, no I read your mind." She waves a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "Got all I needed."

Again, you're left suffocating in the confusion her ambiguity provokes, with nothing else to ask except. "How...?"

The inquiry must've been exactly what Agatha wanted to hear as she immediately dropped what she was doing to turn around and lean on the wall, arms folded in a casually smug pose. "Sex leaves you vulnerable." She smirked. "All I did was take advantage of the opportunity- but I'll spare you the boring details." With a flourish of her hand and a flash of purple, the binds holding your ankles and wrists disappeared. "You can go now. First door on the left."

Without sparing you another glance, she busied herself with some witchy task, allowing you to see yourself out. Massaging your wrists, you stood slowly, watching her expectantly. Surely she wouldn't just let you leave? Yet as you sauntered over to the door she'd directed you to, she made no move to stop you. "Bye then?"

Agatha looked up at you and winked. "See you around, neighbour."

[camxlots-retxrn]

.. also 🧣?? I need some recs and am curious ab what you like so- ahhshs

🧣 ~ merlin fanfic suggestion i have so many

YES I HAVE SO MANY I have folders upon folders of bookmarks so here are just 6 of my favorite in no particular order :)

btw most of these are merthur! i think some of them are up to interpretation, but I’ve a horrid memory so I can’t recall which akjdkskd

An Ox on the Tongue by seapotato - 21.7k, teen & up

Not for the first time Merlin wondered if he'd been doing too good a job saving Arthur's princely hide. This time, it's because Merlin had realized, belatedly, that the assassination attempt targeted him, not Arthur.

this is in my top fanfics ever. one of my favorite lines from it is, “[H]is magic hummed through him, steady and almost happy, the way it always did when he used it for Arthur.” LIKE AHh beautiful it literally reads like an actual novel

/|\

the scent of rain by TheCourtSorcerer - 410, teen & up

Merlin closed his eyes as the rain splashed against his skin. The cold dripping water wetting his hair, soaking his clothes… He loved it.

He sat back in his patio chair, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back, baring his neck as he faced skyward. He knew he shouldn’t be outside. He should be in, tucked into bed, where it was warm…

this one is just so sweet!! merlin loves the rain & it’s because of this fic that I added that to my headcanons list <3 it’s domestic!! seriously adore it :’)))

/|\

Between by Emachinestcat - 3.6k, teen & up

When Uther finds out about Merlin’s magic, Arthur has already known for some time – and Arthur has no intention of letting his father kill his servant. Written for Febuwhump on Tumblr. Day 17: identity reveal

this one just has a beautiful depiction of the whole “two sides of the same coin” thing. much of Merlin & Arthur being protective of one another (+ Uther getting told off a bit)

/|\

Finding Home by riventhorn - 7.8k, explicit, translations available into Français by Aconit

Written for a kinkme_merlin prompt. When Gaius retires a new physician takes over and quickly kicks Merlin out of his room and takes it for himself. Arthur finds Merlin sleeping in the stables...and it's winter.

much angst much whump much Supportive Arthur(tm) it’s all very lovely :’)

/|\

When You Know, You Know by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle - 4.4k, teen & up

"You can take Daisy out to fetch the cloak-"

"How do you know that?"

Arthur closed his eyes, expression riddled with irritation before turning to look at Merlin expectantly.

"Know what?"

“The mare I use. You know I call her Daisy? I never told you that." Merlin explained. Arthur stared for a few moments. He could see the flicker of emotions pass easily over him. Anger, annoyance, exasperation, indignance, and finally acceptance...AKA the Five Stages of Grief (Pendragon Edition).

"You talk to the horse.” He pointed out. Merlin narrowed his eyes.

“I whisper to the horse.”

"...am I supposed to not hear it?” Arthur asked. Merlin wondered how likely it would be that he also heard him whispering magical spells if he heard him murmuring to the bloody horse. “Also, only you would choose such a ridiculous name.” He muttered. Merlin swallowed. This wasn't a problem at all, right? Right.

Or

Merlin knows Arthur well. Better than he knew himself apparently. What he hadn't expected was for Arthur to know his servant just as well... This causes problems. (also known as "The Time Merlin Had a Mental Breakdown Over Arthur Being a Normal Human")

I honestly read this a long time ago so can’t recall the finer details, but big “two halves of a whole” energy in this one. love it :)

/|\

andddd finally my favorite long fic ever-

and like the cycle of the year, we begin again by kathrynefromphilly - 200k, mature

Set after the Merlin Series 5 Finale "Diamond of the Day". Canon Compliant. In Character. Arthur Pendragon Returns.

———

For many long years Merlin waited.

For the other part of his soul, for the other half of his life. He was born to serve Arthur. So that meant he was also born to wait. Even if it took a thousand years. Even if the wait seemed never to end.

Until one day, suddenly, it did.

When Arthur stumbles from the Lake of Avalon 1,500 years after his death, he finds a world unlike the one he knew. Faced with the loss of everyone he loved, and the threat of impending prophecy, Arthur must learn what it means to be not just a king, but the Once and Future King. Merlin does all he can to guide him, even as he struggles to hide his love for his king, and his fear of losing him again.

Story includes sass, banter, horseplay, & True Love.

words can’t describe this fic & honestly anyone who ships Arthur & Merlin h a s to read this at some point. I don’t usually read long fics (this was the last long fic I read, and that was last year..) but I blew through this in two days. i literally fucked up my grades because I neglected school so much & it took like two weeks to get back to normal & I don’t regret it bahaha

apologies this is so long bahahah, but I hope it’s satisfactory! author’s like TheCourtSorcerer (who’s lovely blog is @tcs-main!), seapotato, & platonic_boner are brilliant author’s so you can really just page through their works for more stuff to read! (that isn’t to say the other listed author’s don’t have more lovely content, I just haven’t looked yet!)

honestly I have a lot of recs so I’ve been considering putting together an actual formal list akfjksfj

from my 100 Followers Celebration

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Domesticated

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (Stray Kids) 

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut, language, some mentions of cheating (but not with the main pairing)

Word Count: 19,922 (I might break this up later on)

Summary: Marriage was something Y/N had been dreaming about since she was a little girl. But now, ten years later, she’s married to her college sweetheart, but their relationship isn’t entirely perfect. There’s the issue of her new boss, aka her ex-boyfriend Seo Changbin, and Chan’s younger brother Felix who insists on calling her Medusa. Yet, through it all, Y/N is positive she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Notes: Y'all are really out here sleeping on husband Bang Chan and I won’t allow it anymore. Because Chan is 100% husband goals.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I slowly exhaled after disregarding my somewhat passable resume, courtesy of one of those sketchy website builders, to look at the interviewer who waited for my response, pen poised over his expensive notebook. I swallowed hard as I struggled to compose myself under pressure. Because there was a professional answer somewhere in the back of my useless brain, but a dozen other responses, far more honest than his expectations, were waiting on the tip of my tongue.

Such as: 

Waiting at home for my husband because all I do is stare at the clock, counting down the minutes until he walks through the door. I kinda miss when we were in college and could see each other sporadically between long lectures, grabbing lunch at the Wendy’s on South Campus. Now, the most exciting thing that happens is the occasional blow job before we pass out on the worn mattress in our master bedroom.

Or

Sometimes Chan will host dinner parties at the house for his expensive doctor friends. He won’t spare me a single glance while I rush to fill glasses with rich-tasting wine, keeping an eye on Han Jisung because he can’t take more than three refills before he’s trying to dismantle the house. I’ll also have to ignore the really old surgeon who Chan admires because he likes to touch my ass when I pass through the living room. Maybe I was suited to be a sugar baby in another life.

Or

On the rare occasion when Chan actually uses his cock, he’ll pant in my ear the entire time because he’s worn out from long hours at the hospital. Chan will cum before me most of the time and I’m lucky if he’s cognizant enough to eat me out so that I can finally fall asleep from my post-orgasmic haze. Heck, I’ll even take his fingers on my clit if it means an assured eight hours of sleep.

Shit, I miss being young.

I cleared my throat, deciding on the professional answer because I highly doubt Seo Enterprises wanted to hire a desperate housewife.

I was sprawled out on the couch in our living room when Chan came home that evening. I barely acknowledged his rushed greeting, watching through narrowed eyes as he ran into the kitchen. “Babe,” came his anticipated whine. “There’s no leftovers?”

“I didn’t feel like cooking,” I said, turning over to bury my face in the throw pillows decorating the cushions. It really wasn’t that comfortable since Chan insisted we get the stiff, fancy leather futon as opposed to the appealing sectional that could actually recline. 

“You didn’t cook?”

Chan’s voice was closer this time but I still ignored him, sensing an impending headache. “I had an interview.”

“That was hours ago,” Chan pouted.

I sighed loudly. “The interview went great, honey, thanks for asking.”

“I’ve been at the hospital since 5 this morning,” Chan went on, weight dipping beneath the couch at the opposite end. “I didn’t even have time for lunch because Jisung almost fucked up a patient’s IV.”

“Remind me again why he still has a job.”

“Because he somehow graduated from nursing school and has a license claiming he’s qualified,” Chan said. “Plus, he’s my friend.”

“You have shit taste in friends,” I said, protesting when his hand landed a firm smack against my ass. 

“Minho tried to wreck the Corvette when he ran out of cigarettes.”

“Minho is loyal.”

“He still wants to fuck you,” Chan grumped. “Ten years after college and he’s trailing after your ass.”

“Darling, you don’t have to be jealous when I’m wearing your ugly ring on my finger 24/7.”

“It was my mother’s!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Bang Chan,” I snapped while grabbing one of my support pillows from beneath my weight, launching it at my husband’s head. Sadly, Chan dodged at the last minute, much to my chagrin, smirking as he dug his fingers into my sides, forcing loud, high-pitched giggles as we both unceremoniously fell into the spotlessly clean floor. “Channie,” I groaned as he rolled on top of me, pinning my hands above my head before deciding to offer me a sloppy kiss with far too much tongue. “You’re fucking gross,” I said, biting at his lower lip in revenge.

“Yeah? Well, you’re fucking sexy,” Chan purred, nuzzling his head between my breasts. 

“Stop it, you oaf!” I grumbled. “My period starts tomorrow. My tits have been sore all day.”

“Maybe I should have a look,” Chan teased, a free hand working loose one of the buttons on my shirt.

“And what good will that do?”

“Well, I am a doctor.”

“You just want to see my tits so you have something to jerk off to in the shower tonight.”

“Shower with me then,” Chan suggested. “I’ll fuck you against the wall.”

“Will you have the stamina?” I questioned. “You poor thing, how can you get it up when you haven’t eaten all day?”

Chan frowned at my mocking tone. “Are you turning down my cock?”

“You’re only half-hard,” I said, lifting my thigh against the tight bulge of his scrubs.

Chan let out a sigh, but his smile was endearing. “What if I order takeout? Then we can fuck in the shower.”

“Channie,” I cooed. “You always know how to talk dirty to me.”

I stand by my belief that email was now an archaic form of communication, but the number of big businesses that forced their employees to make an account @ their company name was ridiculous. But if I wanted to find a job in this big ass city, then I needed to play by the rules. Surprisingly, my most recent application was progressing with far more success than I could have anticipated, and I had read over the new email from Seo Enterprises at least half a dozen times:

Dear Mrs. Bang,

Thank you for taking the time to interview with our staff yesterday afternoon. After carefully reviewing your file with our CEO, he has asked us to schedule one last consultation. Please let us know your earliest convenience.

“That must be a good thing,” Minho remarked, digging his spoon into my ice cream since his bowl was empty and I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. 

“I guess,” I said, formulating a quick reply because I really wanted this fancy, high-paying Secretary job. I mean, sitting at home all day was definitely not high on my list of accomplishments.

“What’s the hurry anyway?” Minho asked as he licked his spoon clean. “Bang has enough money that you could just smooch off him for the rest of your life.”

“That’s not fair,” I said. “I want us to be equals.”

“Wasn’t that the point of marrying a doctor, Y/N?” Minho asked. “Otherwise, you could still be screwing around with me.”

“Except we aren’t 18 anymore,” I pointed out, frowning in his direction. “And says the guy who works part-time at his sister’s pet shop.”

“Hey!” Minho protested, shoving his spoon in my face. “I’m helping the strays. Population control and shit.”

“So what? You’re snipping some dog penises, good for you.”

Minho sat back with a disgruntled sigh. “What do you want to do after this?”

“I’ll bring Chan some lunch since he didn’t get a chance to eat yesterday,” I said. “Interested in accompanying an old friend?”

“Not really,” Minho said. “But I don’t have anything better to do.”

I maintained a long list of places that I truly despised and the hospital was number one. I always tried desperately not to let it show when I visited Chan because it wasn’t really his fault. I had a bad history when it came to hospitals and the memories lingered like the permanent smell of alcohol that Chan brought home with him on his scrubs.

“Did you see that guy in the waiting room?” Minho asked after I checked us in at the front desk. “He was seconds away from bleeding out on the floor.”

“Don’t talk about blood,” I shivered, hurrying to the elevator while frantically hitting the corresponding floor number.

“This reminding you of Freshman year?” Minho asked since he was a total airhead and missed out on the memo where I specifically told him to keep his mouth shut about that stupid Frat Party.

“There are five reasons why I hate hospitals,” I said, holding up my hand in front of his stupid face. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“Is Freshman year one of them?”

“Shut the hell up, Minho.”

A quiet chuckle resounded through the empty elevator while I impatiently waited for our stop. “You’re feisty today,” Minho remarked once the doors reopened.

I ignored the nasty linoleum floors, heels clicking with every step I took in the direction of Chan’s office. “I’m eating with Chan and then we’re never coming here again.”

“Agreed,” Minho said, keeping pace with me while cringing at the gurneys being pushed through the hallways at an alarming rate. 

We had almost made it to the end of the floor when I heard a lazy voice call out my name from one of the surrounding rooms. I closed my eyes because I could recognize that voice anywhere since it basically haunted my worst nightmares. He might not know it yet, but Han Jisung was the last person I wanted to run into because maybe, just maybe, he was one of the five reasons why I hated this place.

“Guys!” Jisung gushed, smiling brilliantly. “I’d hug you but I just finished cleaning piss off the floor.”

“Jesus, Han,” I said, wrinkling my nose against the overpowering smell of ammonia. “Is Chan in his office?”

“He was supposed to meet with our new superintendent,” Jisung said, grinning like a complete idiot when he shoved his gloved hands towards Minho who now looked a few beats away from losing his ice cream.

“You’re really pushing your luck today,” Minho growled at him.

“The meeting room is the last room on the right,” Jisung said, finally proving to be useful for once in his life.

I grabbed Minho’s arm because he was close to decking Jisung in the face and I didn’t need the security guards to tell Chan that I let my best friend attack one of his nurses. “Come on,” I said, urging him away from the potential crime scene.

“He’s this close to finding himself with a bloody nose,” Minho complained. “You know what’s funny? I’m pretty sure Han Jisung wouldn’t even know how to help himself.”

“You’re probably right,” I agreed, straightening the collar of my blouse as I peeked in through the tight blinds obscuring the glass wall of the room Jisung had indicated. “There’s Chan...” I started, trailing off when I noticed that he was engrossed in deep conversation with an unfamiliar woman.

“Oh, she’s really hot,” Minho remarked, wincing when I shoved my elbow into his chest.

“Commentary is not necessary,” I said, folding my arms across my chest as I tapped my foot against the floor. Who the hell did this bitch think she was?

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” Minho teased and I swallowed my pride, trying to ignore the way she reached out to touch Chan’s arm.

Thankfully, Chan finally noticed me outside, offering me a cheesy wave which I refused to reciprocate as he said something to the woman. I waited outside the door, attempting my best stern expression even if Chan completely ignored my efforts, encasing me in his powerful arms. “Y/N,” he cooed.

“Chan,” I choked out, struggling against his strength.

Minho snorted at the display. “I’m going to find the cafeteria. Text me when you wanna leave, Y/N.”

I waved him off once Chan eventually released me. I sucked in a few grateful breaths while holding up the takeout bag I had brought. “Is there somewhere we can go?”

Chan nodded, reaching for my hand. “Sorry I took so long, I was meeting with the new superintendent.”

I pursed my lips at that revelation. “She doesn’t look old enough to be a superintendent.”

“She’s around my age,” Chan said and I frowned because that just made everything worse.

The hospital’s staff room was small, the smell of coffee heavy in the air as Chan closed the door behind us. “Nobody should come in.”

“Good,” I said, choosing the only table that looked halfway clean before sitting down with a sigh. “I brought you lunch.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Chan said, gratefully accepting the bag from me while he sat down on the remaining chair. I glared at him from across the table, watching as he dug into the cheap Japanese like it was his last meal on earth. “Is something wrong?” he asked over a mouthful of noodles. Something college Chan would have never done when we first started dating, but I suppose that’s what you get with marriage.

“I saw you were pretty close with your new superintendent,” I said.

“Oh yeah,” Chan replied cheerfully, stuffing even more food into his impossibly wide mouth. “She’s super smart. Like, Harvard graduate smart.”

“Of course she is,” I murmured. “Do you like her?”

“As a boss I guess,” Chan said, still horribly naive to the real problem. I cathartically drummed my fingernails against the surface of the table. 

“Are you coming home early tonight?” I asked him. “I’ll fix your favorite.”

Chan’s eyes lit up because, despite the food sitting right in front of him, he always got excited at the prospect of another meal. “Really?”

I nodded. “I’ll put the good whiskey on ice.”

Chan sat back with a dramatic groan. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Where is all this coming from?”

“I’m just being a good wife,” I said, taking on a dismissive tone.

Chan grinned. “Do you want something, sweetheart? You know I’ll buy you anything.”

“No reason,” I chirped. “I just want you to remember how good am I to you.”

“Of course I know that,” Chan said, reaching across the table to squeeze one of my hands. “I didn’t just marry you for your beautiful face.”

“That’s not what you said when we first met,” I reminded him cheekily, enjoying the way his ears grew red. “Should I do a reenactment?”

“That’s not necessary,” Chan said, quickly dismissing the topic. “Did you hear back from your interview?”

“Oh I did,” I said. “They want me to come in and meet the CEO.”

“What for?” Chan scoffed, returning back to his meal.

“Well, I am taking on the secretary position,” I said. “Maybe he wants to make sure I have good phone etiquette.”

“Yeah?” Chan grumbled. “Or, he wants to make sure you look pretty for him so he has something nice to look at all day.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked him because I loved it when Chan got possessive.

“I don’t want some rich bastard drooling over my wife,” Chan said, chopsticks clenched tightly between his fingers.

“Yeah? Well, it works both ways, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Chan,” I sighed. “Your superintendent was totally flirting with you.”

Chan put down his chopsticks, eyeing me cluelessly. “No, she wasn’t.”

“Yes, she was,” I immediately countered, reaching down for my purse. “I watched her the entire time.”

“Were you spying on me?” Chan asked with a smirk.

“Minho’s probably waiting for me,” I replied instead, smoothing down my skirt as I stood up from the table.

“Don’t you think that’s too short?” Chan asked, pointing at my lower section as if personally offended.

“Work hard, honey,” I grinned, leaning over the table to peck him once on the lips, offering a cheeky wave on my way out the door.

My palms were sweaty and, despite my repeated attempts to wipe off the nasty residue on my skirt, the condition persisted. Hyperhidrosis, Chan might tell me, nerdy glasses falling down his nose. I grinned at a distant memory, one of the first dates I ever had with Chan. A younger, less confident version of my husband, frantically peeling his suit jacket from his body, complaining about the heat in the restaurant, only to cower moments later when he realized his armpits were totally drenched.

“Mrs. Bang?”

I looked up at the young man bowing in front of me. “Mr. Seo will see you now.”

I nodded, holding my tongue before I let the intern know that he sounded just like a passage from Fifty Shades of Gray. Oh, shit, what if I was about to meet Christian Gray in the flesh? Some sort of young, hot billionaire with the world at his feet, buying up other companies like they meant absolutely nothing.

It was a believable scenario, and I don’t know how I managed to get my feet to work, but I followed the intern with exaggerated steps. “The boss has been looking forward to this,” the intern told me, pausing outside the office door.

“He has?” I wondered, glancing around the grandiose lobby. Did I really make that much of an impression?

“You can go in now,” the intern smiled, politely holding the door for me as I wordlessly walked inside.

Of course, I was expecting something extravagant, considering the layout of the lobby, but I was still deeply impressed by the spacious, but oddly cozy interior. Could you really call this room an office? Considering how massive it was in size. I mean, was it really necessary to basically live in an apartment when you arrived to work every day? Complete with stylish hardwood floors that looked like something out of an edition of House and Home magazine. I’d bet my entire life’s savings that the CEO hired some kind of fancy architect to design the place because those engravings on the mahogany walls were quite difficult to achieve. “It’s nice isn’t it?” a disarmingly familiar voice asked, and I found the dark figure leaning against the desk in the center of the room, sleeves rolled up to show off his impressive arms. “I was surprised to see your application, Y/N.”

Fuck, Christian Grey would have been way better.

“Changbin?”

He met me halfway across the room, now completely visible beneath the low hanging lights, tan skin washed with a comfortable glow. “Shocked?”

“You could say that,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was 18 again in college, lusting after the object of my affections.

“Have a seat,” Changbin offered kindly, extending his arm towards the matching armchairs neatly tucked around the electric fireplace.

“Okay,” I nodded, unable to take my eyes off Seo Changbin as I stumbled over my heels like a complete lovestruck teenager meeting her musician idol for the very first time.

But, holy fuck, Changbin looked good. Why the hell did he not age or turn prematurely gray? I held back a whimper, eyes looking everywhere around the room except at Seo Changbin. How did I not put two and two together when I first got the notification for the Secretary position at Seo Enterprises? I mean, what are the chances that this Seo is my Seo...Or, at least, he used to be my Seo. 

“Y/N,” Changbin said, flipping through my file with lazy movements. Where did he get those pants from? They fit him sinfully good, hugging his thighs and if I look close enough, the outline of his...“How are you?”

I startled at the question, drawing my eyes up to meet Changbin’s familiar gaze. “Oh, I’m uh..” I trailed off anxiously, trying to put meaningful words together because he was making the English language harder than it needed to be. “I’ve been alright.”

Changbin smiled and I crossed my legs because that kind of smile could literally drench a girl if he wasn’t careful. “I was really happy to see your name on my list.”

“Were you?” I asked, fingers digging into the cushion of my chair.

“I’m always happy to see a familiar face,” Changbin said. “It’s been a while.”

“College,” I choked out, completely out of mind with anxiety, like the time Minho stole my phone and made me think someone had stolen it, even encouraging me to call the number only for him to hang up every time.

“You’re still beautiful.”

“Changbin...”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s all in the past.”

“That’s right,” I said, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to snatch my resume out of Changbin’s veiny hands and flee the premises.

“And you’ve married Bang,” Changbin said, pointing to my wedding band. “Which isn’t surprising.”

“Five years,” I said, trying my best to think about Chan and only Chan despite the literal embodiment of my every erotic high school fantasy sitting right in front of me.

“This would be strictly professional,” Changbin said, holding up my resume. “You were our best applicant, but I thought you should know everything about this place before taking the position. Including me.”

“Is that so?” was all I could think to say in return to his unexpectedly thoughtful comment.

Changbin lowered my resume slowly. “The job is yours, Y/N.”

“I’d still have to talk to Chan first,” I said because there’s no way I could just start working for Changbin without Chan knowing everything about the situation. Unfortunately, I could just about anticipate Chan’s response.

“That’s fine,” Changbin agreed. “You can call us tomorrow.”

I allowed a shaky nod, wondering if Changbin knew how much of an effect he still had on me all these years later.

Chan might be one of the smartest men I know, but he was, at his core, just a man who was quite whipped for his wife. Like all men, he was a sucker for lingerie, which is why I slipped on my best matching set, squeezing myself in the little black dress that I knew he really loved. 

The hem barely touched the middle of my thighs.

I was also cooking his favorite meal, the smell filling the kitchen pleasantly as I stood at the stove. My plan was quite simple: dress pretty for Chan and surprise him with his favorite food to soften him up. Maybe then he wouldn’t have a complete meltdown when I broke the news to him about my newest employer. 

But I still shivered when I heard the door open. “Y/N!”

“I’m in the kitchen,” I called back to him, attempting several meditative breaths to try and keep myself together.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, freezing in the doorway as he undoubtedly took in the sight of his wife wrapped in a tight black number.

“I’m making dinner,” I said, flashing him an arrogant smile, amused by the way he openly gaped at me while still wearing his oversized doctor’s coat. A result of an excited, freshly employed Chan filling out his form request with sloppy handwriting.

“You look hot,” Chan told me bluntly, eyes glued to my body as he eliminated the space between us with a few quick-paced steps.

“I got the job,” I said, letting out a nervous giggle as I continued to push around the searing bulgogi with a shaky hand. “Consider this a celebration.”

“That’s great, sweetie,” Chan said, standing behind me to wrap his arms around my middle, pressing soft kisses to the back of my neck, roaming hands feeling my body. “I guess the CEO liked you.”

A hellish double entendre. “Yeah, he was really nice.”

“I’m glad it worked out,” Chan said, voice next to my ear. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to get a job or anything. I’m proud of you no matter what.”

Was it his intention to make me feel guilty? “Channie,” I sighed, turning around in his arms. “I have to tell you something.”

Chan cocked a brow. “What is it?”

“The company I’m working for...” 

“Yeah?”

“The CEO is someone we know.”

“Is that it?” Chan chuckled, accent thick as those adorable dimples filled out his smile. “Who is it, babe?”

“He used to go to school with us,” I tried, hoping that maybe Chan could just learn how to read my mind and save me the effort of mustering some kind of courage.

“Minho?” Chan teased.

“We’re not exactly friendly with him,” I said.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I’m not exactly friendly with Minho.”

“You jerk,” I huffed, half-heartedly pushing against his chest. “You really, really don’t like this person.”

“There aren’t many people I really, really don’t like,” Chan said. “Come on, Y/N, just tell me who it is. Are you afraid I’ll be upset with you?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Chan’s smile vanished in a minute. “Y/N.”

“Seo Enterprises,” I said. “The company name.”

Realization dawned across Chan’s face. “Are you saying...”

“Changbin,” I murmured, looking down at my feet. “He’s my new boss.”

Chan let out a rough exhale because he knew exactly who Seo Changbin was and I’m pretty sure he associated the name with deep hatred. “Are you fucking serious?”

I winced at Chan’s tone because he had quickly shifted from sweet, caring husband to angry, sinister Mr. Bang in the blink of an eye. “Yes?”

“The Seo Changbin,” Chan reiterated. “The guy you fucked for like six months Freshman year?”

“That would be the one,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze before immediately regretting the decision.

“Why the hell would you take a job as his Secretary?” Chan demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Normally, I would admire the sight of Chan’s arms stretching the thin fabric of his t-shirt, but now I was just intimidated.

“Because I really wanted the job,” I said. “And I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s a huge fucking deal,” Chan said, glaring down at me. “You think I’m okay with the idea of you working for someone you once told me you were, and I quote, definitely gonna marry?”

“But I’m married to you,” I tried, attempting a sugary-sweet tone that usually broke Chan’s resolve.

Except for tonight.

“Yeah,” Chan nodded, “You are, and I told you I would take care of you. I have enough money to support both of us, you don’t need to work at all.”

“Chan, you know I’m not comfortable sitting at home,” I said.

“I get that, Y/N, but Seo Changbin? I could get you a Secretary job at the hospital.”

“Channie, this is a position at Seo Enterprises. One of their biggest assets is New York Publishers! It’s like the perfect opportunity to get my foot in the door.”

“Y/N,” Chan groaned. “I can’t stand the thought of you working for Changbin under any circumstances.”

“I get it, Chan,” I said. “But it’s different than college. I’m married now, and Changbin is nothing more than my boss.”

“Does he really get that?” Chan asked. “I’m putting my foot down, Y/N. I don’t want you working for him, okay? You can call them tomorrow and say you’ve got something better.”

“But Channie!”

“No, Y/N,” Chan growled. “You can look for something else.”

I frowned once I realized Chan wasn’t going to back down. It didn’t matter that I wanted the job or that I had dressed up and cooked for him. For the first time since we met, Chan was refusing to give me what I wanted. “Chan, you really don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”

“I’m your husband,” Chan said, justifying his unfair demands with such patriarchal reasoning. 

“Fine,” I muttered darkly, ignoring the way his hand reached out for mine.

“Don’t be this way,” Chan said, following me as I marched to our bedroom, slamming the door closed behind me. “Y/N!” Chan shouted against the door, knocking loudly on the wood. “This is my room too!”

“Not tonight,” I informed him tersely, opening the door only to harshly shove a spare blanket and pillow at his chest. “Goodnight, darling.”

“This is Y/N,” I said into the phone. “I’m calling about-”

“One moment, Mrs. Bang, we can transfer you to Mr. Seo right away.”

“But you don’t understand...”

“Hello?”

“Changbin!” I squealed loudly into the phone, wincing at my shrill tone. 

“Y/N,” Changbin said pleasantly, voice as deep and gravelly as I remembered. “Is this the phone call I’ve been waiting for?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, making myself comfortable at the kitchen counter since I was a notorious pacer when it came to difficult conversations. “It depends on what you’re expecting.”

“I’m expecting to hear a confirmation,” Changbin said. “This is a perfect position for someone with your qualifications.”

“I know,” I groaned. “But I’m calling because I can’t take the job.”

“Really?” Changbin asked. “Can I ask why?”

“Chan isn’t comfortable with the idea,” I said.

“Is that so?” Changbin inquired, innocently enough. “I hope it isn’t because of college.”

“T-that’s not entirely why,” I stuttered because Changbin was apparently intuitive now that he owned some big, fancy company.

“I hope not,” Changbin said. “It wouldn’t be fair of Chan to keep you from a potential opportunity because of something like that.”

“It’s just a lot right now,” I said. “I haven’t had a job in a year. My last position was really good, but the company went bankrupt and I was laid off, so I’m just trying to be careful.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about anything like that here, Y/N,” Changbin said. “This is a great opportunity for someone looking for a fresh start.”

Did he read my Facebook bio?

“I’m sure it is, Changbin, but I can’t do something that would make Chan uncomfortable.”

“But he’s not the one taking the position,” Changbin pointed out. “I can assure you, Y/N, you won’t find another position like this.”

“God, you’re good at negotiating.”

“Take the job, Y/N. I promise you won’t regret it.”

I could blame it on my desperation later, but I actually really liked the position. It promised a lot, especially considering the publishing company attached to Seo Enterprises. That would be my ultimate goal, to spend my days reading promising manuscripts while sipping expensive Starbucks coffee.

“I guess I can’t say no.”

“Then I’ll see you on Monday.”

Message to Channie

I took the job. I’m sorry but the opportunity was hard to pass up.

It only took a few seconds for Chan’s contact name to flash across my screen with an incoming call. I muted the sound like a coward, ignoring him completely while I started the ignition to the Corvette. A one-year anniversary present from Chan who was somehow more excited than I was when he first handed me the car key.

I drove to Minho’s apartment because I didn’t want to go home and I really had nowhere else to go. Plus, at least Minho was a reliable friend who really didn’t care if I crashed on his couch while he shoved cheap wine down my throat. In fact, Minho might be glad to see me since he was constantly complaining about his new hours at the shop.

“You look like shit,” Minho commented when he answered the door, standing aside to invite me inside. I shrugged off my coat, tossing it against the wall before slumping down onto the cheap sofa in Minho’s living room. The only piece of furniture he could afford in his ridiculously small New York apartment. “What happened?”

“I took the job with Changbin.”

Minho’s eyes widened in surprise. “You did? I can only assume Chan is lying somewhere on his deathbed.”

“No,” I snorted. “I took the job even though Chan asked me not to.”

“Savage,” Minho exhaled and I rolled my eyes at him.

“It’s a great opportunity!”

“When do you start?” Minho asked, feet propped up in my lap as he made himself more than comfortable next to me.

“Monday morning,” I said, mindlessly taking the remote to scroll through his limited TV channels. 

“And Chan is mad?” Minho repeated, glancing at me for confirmation. “Can you really blame him though?”

“Why?” I frowned.

“I mean, Chan’s been in love with you since high school. He used to trail after you all the time, but you only talked about Seo Changbin.”

“You’re not being a good friend right now,” I said, remembering with perfect clarity the image of a sixteen-year-old Chan, hair untamed and clothes mismatched. Chan was a constant presence in my life, even if I preened after another boy who certainly had no intention of remaining faithful.

“Go home to him, Y/N,” Minho said with far more seriousness than I was used to hearing from my still immature best friend. The same Minho who couldn’t find work for an entire year after graduation because he was too busy sleeping with any woman that walked on two legs, living with various girlfriends while slowly draining his savings account.

“Since when are you the voice of reason?” I grumbled.

“Well, we all have to grow up one day.”

I hated the rare occasions when he was right.

The house was eerily silent when I unlocked the door, spotlessly clean just as I had left it which made me feel bad because it meant Chan didn’t even try to eat anything. “You always make me worry,” I muttered, toeing off my shoes as I decided to check the bedroom. 

When Chan had first bought the house, he wanted it to look as close as possible to the random design I had pointed out at the local fair when we were Sophomore students. The plaque had deemed it the “house of the future” and I was enamored with the idea of the future back when my whole life was waiting right in front of me. A big dreamer who was already making wedding plans the moment Chan got down on one knee and proposed with his mother’s wedding ring.

“Channie,” I whispered into the darkness, cautiously tiptoeing my way to the side of the bed where Chan was facing away from me, sheets tucked in around his waist to leave his chest exposed. “I’m sorry.”

Chan let out a sigh. “What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“I hurt you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I took the job with Changbin and I didn’t think about how it would affect you.”

“I fucking hate him,” Chan said, tone bitter and laced with venom. “I hate what he did to you Freshman year and I hate that he was the first person you loved.”

“Chan,” I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I was really young and stupid back then. I should have never slept with Changbin. But he was just a fantasy, even when we were together, and I certainly never really loved him.” I leaned in closer, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ve always loved you first. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry that I went behind your back to work for Changbin. But he’s definitely nothing more than a mistake from a past full of them. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Chan shifted from next to me, rolling onto his back. His eyes were looking at me like I was literally his entire world. “I’ll always worry, sweetie. You drive me insane these days.”

I grinned at the use of his pet name for me, reaching out to run a soothing hand along the defined lines of his stomach. “Don’t worry about me, darling, when you’re the one with a supermodel for a boss.”

“Fuck, we’re both screwed,” Chan said. “Does she drive you mad with jealousy?”

“Of course she does,” I said. “She has bigger tits than me.”

“Well, I like your tits,” Chan insisted. “Don’t even think about bringing up plastic surgery again.”

“It would be to your benefit,” I pointed out. 

“And the detriment to my savings account. Plus, I don’t want some old bastard fondling your tits while he pumps silicone in your chest.”

“Of all the things to worry about,” I sighed. “Does this mean we’re okay again?”

“You could probably step on me and I would still thank you for it, sweetie.”

“What if I sit on it instead?” I asked, moving my hand down to squeeze his flaccid cock.

“Makeup sex?” Chan gasped. “You don’t have to sell yourself out like this, babe.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to,” I said while proceeding to straddle his waist, smirking when Chan’s hands instantly moved to my hips. It was almost like a magnet, the reaction automatic after years of marriage. “You’re already hard,” I teased, reaching back to palm him over the sheets. 

Chan always slept in boxers which I certainly appreciated because it made the rare nights of our passionate lovemaking even more accessible. Chan lifted my shirt, groaning low when he saw that I was wearing nothing but a pair of satin panties. “This is why I’m already hard.”

“You don’t see me walking around the house in underwear,” I quipped playfully.

“It’s comfortable,” Chan whimpered, moaning when my hand found the smooth velvety head of his cock. 

“Something you never did when we were dating,” I said. “I spent weekends with you in the apartment.”

“Wanted to make a good impression,” Chan grumbled, eyes closed as he rolled his hips in time with my careful strokes. 

“So you don’t have to impress me anymore,” I said, glancing back at his cock, hot and heavy in my hand. “But I guess you still do.”

Chan moaned even louder at my words, fingers tightening in my wrinkled shirt. “Don’t make me cum yet.”

“Why not, darling?” I asked him cheekily, twisting my wrist just right, watching as a stuttered gasp fell from between his gorgeous pout.

“Wanna cum inside,” he said, biceps straining as he pulled me closer, kissing me with a desperation that only demonstrated just how gone he really was.

“Yeah?” I smirked, tongue tracing the ridges of his full lips. “I guess you deserve it after putting up with my bullshit all day.”

Chan nodded fervently and the sight was oddly endearing. It reminded me of when Chan and I first met in high school, a nerdy sixteen-year-old boy who had just transferred schools all the way from Australia. He had a thick accent, foreign and rich, just like the untamed mass of curls covering his deep brown eyes. Chan wore thick-rimmed glasses and he had a light dusting of freckles like the main character from Freckle Juice, one of my favorite childhood novels. He was nerdy and shy, sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch and walking between classes with his shoulders hunched like he was afraid one of those horrible jocks would try to steal his bag again.

“Y/N!” he whined loudly, forcing me out of the memory.

“Alright, Channie, you want inside?”

I sat up on my knees to work down my panties, ignoring the way Chan’s fingers tried to interfere, pulling at the fabric like he could possibly make them disappear any faster. I grabbed the hem of his boxer shorts, teasingly pulling them down his thighs before brushing a kiss across the weeping tip of his cock, precum bitter on my tongue. For a moment, I admired his thick erection, remembering how nervous Chan was the very first time we had sex back before we were even old enough to drink alcohol.

I held his cock as I positioned myself over his lap. “I’ll do all the work tonight,” I said, listening to Chan’s sweet moans the entire time I slowly lowered myself onto his cock, enjoying the way he always filled me so deeply.

“Oh yeah, sweetie,” Chan grunted, hips moving messily as he tried to find a rhythm. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

 “Really?” I asked, swallowing down a moan when Chan hit just right, movements growing more and more confident as I returned every thrust. “I thought I was in charge tonight.”

Chan’s hands gripped my waist firmly, eyes wide open as he focused on where we were connected. “I’m always in charge.”

“Definitely,” I said, bracing my hands against his firm chest for balance because I was weak for this version of Chan. A complete contradiction to the one I first started dating, sweetly doting as he did everything in his power to make me happy. An image of a beautifully innocent Chan looking up from his position between my thighs. “It’s good?”

“So good,” I whispered aloud, peppering kisses across the pale expanse of Chan’s creamy skin, laving my tongue against a sensitive nipple which forced a temporary break from his regular tempo.

“Don’t play dirty, sweetie,” Chan said, giving me no warning before he was pushing me onto my back, hovering over me with his irresistible bedroom eyes. His hands spread my thighs wide, giving himself more room to fuck inside, movements growing faster with every step closer to what was beginning to feel like an intense orgasm. I’m talking about the kind that I could feel between my legs for days after I tried to walk straight again. “Do I need to touch you?”

“Fuck, I think you’re doing just fine,” I said. “Where the hell did this come from?”

“You woke up my competitive side,” Chan said, hitting deep like we were suddenly 20-years-old again sneaking quickies between lectures. Back then, Chan could literally fuck me against a wall, my legs wrapped around his gorgeous hips while he knocked the breath out of my lungs. Thank god, Chan decided that college would be his glory years, working out aggressively in the gym until he had muscles filling out the places where he had previously been soft. But I would always miss his pudgy stomach, even if his ass was now something out of a porn magazine. 

“Well fuck,” I moaned. “I’ll have to do this more often.”

“I’d do it all the time if I wasn’t working until 3 in the morning at the hospital,” Chan said.

“Good point, should I come in at lunch then? You can lock us in one of the empty rooms.”

“Oh shit, sweetie, you shouldn’t talk that way,” Chan growled and it was one of the sexiest sounds I had ever heard.

“I’m close,” I warned him, digging my fingers in his scalp as his teeth teased against my collarbone.

“Me too,” he said, breaths uneven as he punctuated his words with a series of harsh ruts that sent my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. His fingers found my clit, thumb pressing down hard enough to trigger one of the best orgasms I had experienced in a long time.

I tightened around his stuttering cock, moaning when I could feel his cum deep inside, warm and wet. “Shit, you’re so good at that.”

Chan pulled out slowly, eyes growing wide at the sight of his cum leaking down my ass. “Left a fucking mess though.”

“We can shower later,” I said, grabbing his arm to encourage him to lie down next to me, burying my face against his chest, scarlet-red from the exertion.

“Was the dick that good?” Chan teased, running his fingers soothingly along my spine.

“Your dick is that good,” I replied. “The genetics are strong.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my parents,” Chan said, giggling as I shot him a warning glare. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Mmm, I love you more.”

1 Week Later

Lee Felix is the spawn of the devil and nobody could convince me otherwise. Because ever since we first met, when Chan invited me over to his house for a project, Felix had decided that I was his number one enemy, deeming me “Medusa” because he was enamored with Greek Mythology. But the unfortunate nickname had stuck throughout the years, even when Felix visited our college between breaks, forcing me to sleep on the couch while he shared the bed with his step-brother. 

Recently, Felix had just finished his Master’s program for some kind of fancy Philosophy degree that would probably do him absolutely no good in the real world. But Chan was proud of his baby brother, inviting him to stay with us after graduation until Felix could stand on his own two feet. The decision was met by my instantaneous protest leading to an argument that I inevitably lost because Chan was still using Changbin as a winning point. However, even before my employment with Seo Enterprises, Felix was the cause of at least 95% of our arguments and I was not exaggerating in the slightest.

The sound of the doorbell ringing was suddenly a lot louder than I remember. “Death is here,” I said solemnly, ignoring the way Chan scoffed at my claim. I followed behind him somberly as he opened the door, letting out an excited cheer when he saw Felix waiting on the other side. Felix dropped his bag and practically screamed, which would likely wake up the entire neighborhood, jumping into his brother’s arm as the two embraced right in the middle of my foyer. 

“Could you be any louder?” I snarled at the younger Bang. 

“Maybe I could, Medusa,” Felix shot back, eyes narrowed as he picked up his bag. 

“Come on, Felix,” Chan said, nodding at the kitchen. “I bet you’re hungry.”

Felix nodded, putting on his best smile for his ignorant brother, shoving his bag harshly at my chest as he walked by. “You can take care of that for me, right Medusa?”

“You little bitch,” I muttered, meeting his glare with one of my own.

The only thing worse than going out with Felix was including Han Jisung in the equation. For whatever reason, Jisung and Felix always riled each other up, chugging down alcohol like it was fucking water or something. However, Felix wanted to see Jisung again and Chan never said no to his little brother. This is why I was currently seated next to Chan at a cheesy bar in downtown Harlem, listening to Felix and Jisung try to talk over one another as Chan looked on with fond eyes. The only good part of the night was the fact that even Chan had allowed himself to get a little tipsy which meant he was doing his absolute best to feel me up in public. I always found it amusing, knocking his hand away when his eager fingers started to trail up my skirt.

“Felix,” Jisung whined. “How can you say that?”

“Oi, there’s no way you can put Nickleback and Green Day in the same fucking category.”

I rolled my eyes at the stupid argument, smacking Chan’s hand when he started to finger the waistband of my skirt. “Chan!” Jisung pouted. “Tell him that he’s wrong.”

“Tell the philosophy major that he’s wrong?” Chan asked, accent on full display as he reached out to playfully ruffle Felix’s hair. “You can’t even answer the phone at the receptionist’s desk.”

Felix loved the attention and I hated it when he came over only to occupy Chan’s every waking hour with his never-ending thirst for affection. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with it tonight. I cleared my throat, stretching my arms back behind my head because I knew how good it would make my breasts look in the rather low-cut shirt I had chosen for tonight’s affair. I glanced over at Chan, smiling victoriously when I saw the way his eyes had glued themselves to my chest. Even Han Jisung was looking, which would normally annoy me to no end, but I was putting on my best behavior tonight. “Chan!” Felix shouted, trying to regain his brother’s attention. “Did you hear that I scored the highest honors on my research project?”

And just like that, Chan’s attention was redirected to Satan, eyes glowing with pride. “That’s amazing, Felix!”

“I can tell you all about it,” Felix said arrogantly, tossing me a cocky smile which left me absolutely incensed. “The board was so impressed, they offered to publish my results in the University’s magazine.”

“Are you serious, Felix?” Jisung asked which was an even bigger blow because the only two things occupying Jisung’s thoughts were women and alcohol. 

So I decided to push my luck, tugging down my skirt before shifting over in the booth to plant myself directly on Chan’s lap, wrapping my arms around his neck before nuzzling into his warm chest. “Channie,” I cooed while glaring at Felix from the corner of my eye. 

“Do you want something, sweetie?” Chan asked, smile blinding as one hand wrapped around my waist, leaving the other to tease the bare skin of my thighs. 

I reached for Chan’s beer, shoving the glass at him because nothing made Chan hornier than thighs and alcohol. “Should I come to see you at work tomorrow? Like we talked about before?”

Chan’s eyes lit with recognition and I smirked victoriously when I felt him grow hard in his tight jeans. “I’d really like that.”

And to seal my victory, I leaned forward to kiss my intoxicated husband, ignoring the sloppy way he reciprocated, breath musty with the taste of beer. Felix growled lowly from across the booth and Jisung let out a wolf whistle at our blatant display. But I was on cloud nine, satisfied to have won Chan’s attention because it meant Felix was going to be quite unhappy for the rest of the night.

“Medusa, aren’t you going to make me breakfast?”

I groaned as I glanced over at the alarm clock which informed me that it was only 9:00 AM. “Fuck, Felix, go back to sleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” he whined, reaching across the bed to tug on my arm.

“It’s Saturday,” I hissed, barely clinging to the wonderful promise of more sleep which would do wonders for my hungover state.

“Chan wouldn’t be happy with you,” Felix reminded me. “Should I call him at work?”

“Get out of here you little maggot,” I snapped. “I’ll fix you some damn breakfast.”

“Now!” Felix ordered like he had every right to make demands of me, but I didn’t want Felix to say anything to Chan because that would only lead to another needless argument. 

“You’re a fucking menace,” I said, throwing off my bedsheets while briefly mourning the loss of my precious sleep. But I don’t want anyone to ever say that I was a bad wife, especially when I put up with Lee Felix just to make Chan happy. 

Felix was already seated at the counter when I finally drug myself out of my bedroom, groggily reaching for a clean pan from the cabinet. “You get eggs and bacon,” I told him. “I’m not a gourmet chef.”

“Whatever,” Felix said, ignoring me completely in exchange for his cell phone. Which Chan was now paying for to help “lessen Felix’s financial burden.” 

“Chan,” I remember telling him. “You’ll spoil him if you keep doing things like that. He’ll never want to leave!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Chan had shot back as if the idea of living with his younger brother for the rest of our married life was perfectly acceptable.

“A million things,” I muttered now, cracking one of the eggs against the side of the pan. 

“I hear you’re working for Seo Changbin,” Felix abruptly spoke up, and I could practically feel his eyes on me. “He cheated on you, right?”

“It’s really none of your business,” I informed him brusquely, grabbing a spatula while wondering if I could teach Felix a lesson if I hit him a few times.

“My brother isn’t happy,” Felix continued as if my warning meant nothing to him. Probably because it didn’t. “I think it’s a bad idea, but your satisfaction always comes first, right?”

“Why the fuck did Chan tell you this?” I gritted out while aggressively slamming the fridge closed, pack of bacon gripped tightly in my hand.

“He tells me everything,” Felix said smartly. “Because he trusts me.”

“Good for you,” I huffed over my shoulder. “I’m glad you have such a close relationship with your brother.”

“Jealous?” Felix taunted, expression smug when I roughly placed down a glass in front of him.

“Is orange juice, okay?” I asked him in a faux sweet voice.

“It’s fine,” Felix shrugged. “But whatever is most inconvenient for you.”

“What a sweet little boy you are,” I said, pouring him a generous amount. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

“Chan says I can stay for as long as I want,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“Of course not,” I muttered. “Two Bangs are better than one.”

“That’s right,” Felix said brightly, taking a sip from his glass. “Ugh, does this have pulp in it?”

“Drink your fucking orange juice, Felix!”

The invention of video games was a godsend because they could occupy Felix’s attention for hours, leaving me in relative peace as I tried not to let him destroy every last bit of my resolve. I was currently having a bath alone in the sanctity of my bathroom, shoulder-deep in soothing bath salts which I kept well-stocked in the cabinet underneath the sink. The aroma was pleasant, sending me to a place somewhere far away to where Felix’s were strictly prohibited.

For the entirety of the day, Felix had been doing his best to get on my nerves. I cooked him breakfast and lunch, cleaned his disgusting laundry, and even held my tongue when he requested I drive him to the mattress store because the guest bedroom was unsatisfactory. But it had always been like this between us, ever since the day I first met Felix and tried my best to make a good impression. Unfortunately, Felix idolized his older brother, deeming any girl unworthy of his time and efforts, including myself. Of course, above anyone else, Felix thought I was the worst possible choice, reminding me every second that his brother deserved someone smarter, richer, and prettier. 

Suddenly, my phone vibrated loudly on the edge of the bathtub and I hesitantly glanced at the screen, half-expecting to see Felix’s name displayed like a caution sign. Surprisingly, it was Chan who had sent me a message to ask where I was, which meant Felix had lied through his teeth and said I’d gone somewhere. 

To Channie

Bathroom.

It was only a moment or two later when the door opened and Chan stuck his head inside, offering me a pleasant smile as he locked the door behind him. “You’re home early,” I remarked, vacantly staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s Saturday night,” Chan reminded me. “I thought the three of us could go out to eat.”

I groaned in protest. “What about takeout?”

“You love going out,” Chan said. “I’ll even let you pick the restaurant.”

“I have way too many problems right now,” I said. “I’m avoiding them by staying in the water for as long as I can.”

“Sweetie,” Chan said, taking a step closer. “You should’ve waited for me.”

“Why?” I asked him airily. “You’re one of those problems.”

“Me?” Chan asked, choosing to sit down on the edge of the tub. “What did I do wrong?”

“No arguments tonight,” I said, letting out a deep sigh. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been all day.”

“Aren’t you being overdramatic?” Chan asked, reaching down to flick a trail of water in my direction. “I was in surgery for 6 hours today.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve dealt with Felix since 9 this morning.”

“Ah,” Chan sighed. “I figured it had something to do with my brother.”

“Just forget it,” I whined. “You know we don’t get along.”

“I do know that,” Chan said. “But I wish you both made a better effort. We’re family after all.”

I shivered at the idea of Felix belonging to any family of mine. “You can keep him on your side, then. I grew up as an only child, look at how much better I turned out for it.”

“You told me you had imaginary friends growing up because you were so lonely,” Chan teased.

“Asshole,” I muttered. “That’s sensitive information that I told you in confidentiality. You should know all about patient-doctor confidentiality. Didn’t you have a whole lecture on it?”

“Y/N,” Chan lightly chastised, reaching for a towel on the rack next to the counter. “Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour.”

“You’ve condemned me to death,” I complained, watching through lidded eyes as he stretched out his arms.

“I’m serious, Y/N, at least try to get along for my sake.”

“That’s all I ever do,” I muttered to his retreating form.

Hwang Hyunjin is a willing accomplice to the devil himself who never misses an opportunity to throw out some lascivious comments about my appearance. He was Felix’s best friend and partner in crime, sharing his goal of making my life as miserable as possible. He was also coming out to eat with us tonight and no matter how much I whined to Chan, he remained adamant that Felix should spend some time with his friends. “He’s only young once,” Chan told me, ignoring the way I glared at him with every ounce of hostility that I could muster.

“Did you paint those pants on, Y/N?” Hyunjin asked the minute he sat down in the backseat next to Felix.

“I did, actually, thanks for the unnecessary observation,” I told him shortly, still focused on the staring contest I was having with Felix in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t mind her, she’s probably on her period,” Felix said and I took in a deep breath because I was very close to turning around in my seat to choke the life out of Felix’s pencil neck.

“How have you been, Hyunjin?” Chan asked, one hand on the steering wheel as he calmly navigated us through the permanent traffic of New York.

“I applied for a job with Amazon,” Hyunjin replied. “I don’t wanna brag, but I definitely nailed the interview.”

“Yeah right,” I muttered under my breath. Hyunjin had the worst people skills in the history of mankind. He was almost as incompetent as Han Jisung, but ten times worse because of his sarcastic attitude.

“You’ll get me Amazon Prime for free, right bro?” Felix giggled and I resisted the urge to mock the sound.

“I’m proud of you, Hyunjin,” Chan said. “I know you worked hard.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Hyunjin said. “But the chick who interviewed me was really hot and I think I appropriately swept her off her feet.”

“Big tits?” Felix asked because that’s all those stupid boys cared about.

“Of course,” Hyunjin said. “But I’m still waiting for you, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Felix scoffed. “You could do better than Medusa.”

“How about some music?” I snapped loudly, reaching down for the radio knob to block out the sounds of Felix and Hyunjin’s voices.

Monday mornings were the worst thing to ever happen to mankind next to Lee Felix. I was sipping at my morning coffee, cold now because Felix had spent way too much time ordering me around the kitchen before I left home. But it was better than nothing and I desperately needed caffeine to get through the day. “Morning, Y/N,” Changbin greeted me smoothly, suit well-pressed and fitted to hug his arms and thighs just right.

“Sure,” I said in reply, trudging to my chair in slow motion. 

“Are you always this lively in the mornings?” Changbin remarked, leaning against my desk as he looked through his mail.

“Just on Mondays,” I said, booting up my computer so that I could answer the dozens of emails likely waiting for me, most of which would come from annoying sponsors who wanted Changbin to be on their dumb podcast. 

“Well, you still look gorgeous,” Changbin said.

My cheeks flushed at his comment. “You still need to call Mr. Kim back, he’s left another voicemail.”

“Just one call?” Changbin smirked, eyes dancing dangerously. “Have you been scaring everyone off, Y/N?”

“I did just as you asked, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” Changbin chuckled, carefully engrossed in his cell phone now as he graciously returned to his own office.

I shivered as I glanced at my computer screen. Changbin was still as notoriously flirtatious as he had been when we were younger. In fact, it might be worse now that he had finally grown into his sharper features which made him look ridiculously attractive. “I love Chan, I love Chan,” I quietly repeated to myself, even as a distant memory suddenly forced itself back into consciousness.

An 18-year-old Seo Changbin walking inside my lecture hall wearing a dark button-up tucked into the tightest pair of skinny jeans he probably owned. Every eye in that lecture room had suddenly turned to him because he was an irresistible force, impossible to ignore. “Y/N?” 

Be cool Y/N, I softly chastised myself as I offered him a friendly smile. “Hi, Changbin.”

It was purely coincidental that Changbin had ended up at the same University as me, but that didn’t stop my fragile teenage heart from declaring it as something akin to fate. “It’s been a while,” Changbin said, pulling out the chair next to mine.

I swallowed hard because my mouth was as dry as a desert. “I didn’t know you were enrolled here.”

“It was my first pick,” Changbin said. “My father is an alumnus.”

“Really?” I asked, ignoring the arrival of the professor in exchange for mapping out every single one of Changbin’s gorgeous features.

“This class is just for gen ed,” Changbin said, pushing a hand through his neatly styled black hair.

“Oh, same for me,” I nodded. “I heard it was pretty easy.”

“Is that right?” Changbin asked while flashing me an award-winning smile. Roll out the red carpets because this boy was cool enough to be in an action film co-starring Tom Holland and Ancel Elgort.

But what were we talking about? “I’m majoring in English.”

“Political Science,” Changbin returned. “And Business.”

I deflated a little because, in comparison to my lousy arts degree, Changbin seemed like a certified genius. He would be educated in the art of entrepreneurship and big money while I struggled to comprehend the meaning of Great Expectations. “Have you met anyone else from high school?”

“Not yet,” Changbin said. “What about you?”

“Well, Bang Chan’s enrolled here too...” I started, only to trail off when I realized that Changbin probably had no idea who Chan was since he never paid attention to him in high school. Actually, Changbin would have been more likely to join the football jocks who liked to steal Chan’s stuff only to tie his underwear to the flagpole outside the gym.

“The nerdy Australian kid?” Changbin chuckled. “That sucks.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage since Changbin obviously didn’t know that Chan and I were friends. 

“You don’t hang out with him, do you?” Changbin asked, peering at me closely like I was seconds away from losing the honor of his company.

“We have lunch sometimes,” I said, which was only partially true since I did like to meet up with Chan in the dining hall around 2:00 because it was never crowded. But Changbin didn’t need to know that I had spent the night in Chan’s apartment listening to him record one of his mixtapes because Chan had a newfound interest in music. 

“You could do better,” Changbin sighed. “Hang out with me instead. I’ll treat you to the nicest fast food joint on campus.”

My heart was racing, palms clammy as I nodded my head rapidly. “Lunch?”

“Whatever you want, love,” Changbin said, close proximity knocking every rational thought clean out of my head.

It was like my best fantasy coming to life right before my very eyes, and after our lecture ended I asked Changbin to wait for me while I made a phone call to Chan. “Y/N!” came his cheerful voice from the other end. “Guess who got to dissect a liver today?”

I wrinkled my nose at the nasty image. Chan was studying to enter the medical program which meant a lot of his daily life centered around the human body and all sorts of things that could go wrong with it. “Chan,” I whined. “You’re talking to someone who can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“I know,” Chan sniggered. “Does this mean you’re not gonna want to eat lunch with me today? You know I’ll pay, of course, I got a raise at the cafe.”

“Well,” I started, desperately searching for the right words. “I actually have to meet with my professor for this essay I’ve been having trouble with.”

“No problem,” Chan said. “I’ll bring you takeout for dinner. Doesn’t your roommate have practice tonight?”

I glanced back at Changbin with a guilty conscience. Why did Chan have to be so sweet all the time? “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“No liver talk, I promise,” Chan giggled and I hung up the phone before he could make me feel even worse than I already did.

“You want to get some lunch?” Changbin asked with his hands dug inside his pockets as he stood in front of my desk.

“Like, with me?” I asked warily because I wasn’t sure where the line stood on professionalism when it involves eating with an ex-boyfriend.

“Who else?” Changbin said. “I figured we could use a break from the phone calls.”

“I don’t know...” I answered hesitantly because Chan would probably lose his shit if he discovered I went out anywhere with Changbin.

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N,” Changbin said. “My job is to make sure my employees are well taken care of.”

“I guess,” I sighed, reaching down for my purse on the floor. “One lunch together won’t hurt anything.”

But Changbin seemed awfully smug, patiently waiting for me to gather my belongings, stuffing my phone with an unanswered text from Chan inside my side pocket. It’s almost like the universe was conspiring against me, doing its very best to try and force me into the worst situations possible. Here’s an irrational thought: what if Chan happened to decide to go out for lunch today? He might find me with Changbin and I couldn’t think of a worse scenario. Of course, I suppose it doesn’t necessarily have to be Chan who finds us. For example, if his younger step-brother was to suddenly wander in the building at this very moment...

“Medusa!”

Curse you, universe!

“Felix?” 

“I brought us lunch!” Felix chirped brightly, holding up a picnic basket as he waltzed right up to my desk with far more confidence than necessary.

I blinked my eyes rapidly, unable to process the idea that Felix was standing in the middle of the company’s lobby. “Is it poisoned?” I asked, trying not to alert him to any possible wrongdoing.

Felix ignored me, turning around to face Changbin with a critical gaze. “Seo? Is that you?”

“Felix,” Changbin acknowledged, frowning as if he was the last person on earth he wanted to see, and I could share the sentiment.

“Fuck,” Felix cursed, taking a step back. “You still look really young. I was surprised when Y/N told me you were her new boss.”

“I didn’t tell you that,” I said, opening the flaps of the basket only to let out a disgruntled sigh when I realized he had only brought a bag of chips and a tray of cookies.

“And what are you doing these days?” Changbin asked.

“Freelance work, mostly,” Felix replied as if he really needed to lie to Changbin about his lack of a suitable occupation.

“I forgot what you majored in,” Changbin said. “It was hard to keep up since you changed your concentration like a dozen times.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh, even when Felix sneered in my direction. “Philosophy.”

“Interesting,” Changbin said, nodding his head. “I’m actually surprised to hear that. You never settled on anything.”

Seo Changbin needed to be careful because his charm points were dramatically increasing the more he mocked my husband’s step-brother. “I actually just finished my Masters.”

“Really?” Changbin said. “This coming from the same boy who used to party with Hwang Hyunjin at all the Fraternities, even if they were on a different campus.”

“It was just Freshman year,” Felix defended himself. 

“Well,” Changbin started, “I’m glad to hear about your graduation. Y/N and I were actually just about to head out to lunch.”

I winced at his words, withering under Felix’s accusing watch. “Is that so?”

Changbin carefully studied the two of us. “I’ll be waiting in my car, Y/N.”

I grabbed my bag while pushing the picnic basket back in Felix’s direction. “I swear to god if you tell Chan about this, I’ll castrate you in your sleep.”

“We’ll see about that,” Felix growled, and that was the moment I realized that I was treading very dangerous waters.

Changbin drove us to a charming restaurant about two blocks away from the main company building. He pulled right up to the sidewalk, handing his keys to the waiting carhop as if he had done this about a thousand times. But I guess that was pretty likely considering just how well-off he was ten years later. “Impressive,” I remarked to him, reluctantly accepting his outstretched hand as he helped me out of his car.

“Yeah?” Changbin said, offering me a wink. “Maybe I’m trying to impress you.”

“You’re a dangerous man, Seo Changbin,” I told him, bowing slightly to the waiting doorman who kindly ushered us inside.

This was why the pretty girls always lusted after Changbin. When we were both still in high school, Changbin epitomized the phrase #BoyfriendGoals because he was super attractive, incredibly smart, and athletic enough to earn himself a shining record after an impressive baseball season. And I was just as mindless as the rest of the zombies chasing him down in the parking lot at school or squealing his name in the hallways between classes.

“I eat here all the time,” Changbin assured me, flashing the hostess a dazzling smile while handing her his card. 

“Right this way, Mr. Seo,” the hostess curtsied, ignoring the long line of waiting patrons who apparently didn’t matter as much as my new boss as she led us to a private table. “Your waitress will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said politely, eyes wide as I took in the gorgeous chandelier dropping from the high-domed ceiling.

“Close your mouth, Y/N,” Changbin said. “You act like you’ve never been somewhere like this before.”

“Not exactly,” I said because the nicest place Chan had ever taken me was an Olive Garden and that had ended poorly after Chan accidentally knocked his shoulder against a poor server on his way back to the table causing an avalanche of salad and breadsticks.

“Bang should be taking you to places like this all the time,” Changbin commented, perhaps a casual observation to anyone else.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Chan and I prefer to keep things low-key.”

“Should I have taken you to Applebees instead?”

“How funny.”

“I’m kidding, Y/N,” Changbin said, reaching down to adjust the buttons on his coat sleeve. “You’ve changed a lot since college.”

“Since we dated you mean?” I asked with an arched brow.

“Well,” Changbin started, “if you want to think of it like that.”

“Hmmm,” I briefly meditated, studying Changbin’s expression carefully. “How else should I think about it.”

Changbin tsked, raising a hand to signal for a nearby waiter. “I don’t mean to suggest anything.”

The waiter approached our table with purposed steps. “How may I help you, sir?”

“A wine menu?” Changbin asked, nodding generously when the waiter returned with his requested selection. 

“You make a beautiful couple,” the waiter gushed while he pulled out a thick leather wallet, flipping to a fresh page.

“Oh! We’re not-”

“-A bottle of pinot noir, please,” Changbin said, returning the menu without bothering to correct the waiter’s observation.

“Right away, sir,” the waiter agreed.

I held my tongue until he was further away, bothering an older couple who were probably complaining about something to do with their food. “Changbin,” I warned him. “You should be careful.”

“It was a harmless mistake,” Changbin said. “How can I possibly come between you and Bang?”

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth because it sounded less like a dismissal and more like a challenge.

The sun was already setting by the time I returned home thanks to one of Changbin’s business partners who refused to leave the office building until they had a chance to speak to him. I was low on patience, tired from an exhausting day of dealing with telemarketers insisting our company needed the latest software for our clientele. There was only a limited number of times I could tell somebody to fuck off before inevitably shouting into the other end that I was in no way interested in whatever useless product they were trying to shove down my throat, complete with some kind of scammy discount and an opportunity to be represented on their website.

To make matters worse, my feet were blistered from wearing heels all day and my shoulders ached from slouching over my computer to answer emails and monitor the progress of Changbin’s latest project. My only saving grace was the message Chan had sent me earlier telling me that he had already clocked out at work, which meant I could probably guilt him into giving me one of his trademarked messages. I mean, all I wanted to do was curl up next to Chan in bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

But it looked like my desires would have to wait because as soon as I unlocked the door to the house, I could immediately sense that something was wrong. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously walked into the living room to find Chan and Felix busy with some kind of video game on our HD TV, volume high until I walked in the room. Chan waited until I called his name, reaching for the remote to mute the TV before tossing his controller onto the coffee table. From across the room, Felix’s eyes were alight with mischief.

“How was work today?” Chan asked with a tone that I only ever heard when my husband was feeling particularly pissed off about something, and I had a sneaking suspicion it involved me in some capacity.

“It was fine,” I said, deciding to play it safe while I kept my complaints to myself.

Felix smirked in my direction, whistling to himself as he reached for his game controller. “Felix told me something interesting today.”

“Oh did he?” I asked, wondering just how much pain Felix could tolerate if I marched over to him right now and hit him with an umbrella.

“He said he tried to have lunch with you.”

“I was busy.”

“With Seo Changbin?”

Felix was definitely going to die tonight. That little snitch deserved every ounce of punishment I was starting to formulate inside my head. “He invited me out instead.”

“I got that,” Chan snapped and I knew my husband was in a foul mood. I’m talking about the kind of mood that usually sent me scampering for the safety of the bunkers. Like the time some drunk asshole rear-ended Chan’s precious convertible while we were sitting in downtown traffic. Or the time when we were Freshmen in college and Chan confronted Changbin after finding out that he had been cheating on me.

But this time the problem was me which meant I couldn’t just hide from Chan and wait for things to go back to normal. “Honey,” I attempted to reassure him. “It was just lunch.”

“Yeah? But that doesn’t seem like keeping things strictly professional to me, Y/N.”

“He’s my boss now, I can’t just tell him no.”

“Actually, you can,” Chan disagreed, now refusing to look at me. “How would you like it if I ate with my new superintendent?”

“Depends on if she offered to pay or not.”

“Y/N.”

“Chan,” I pouted. “I’m really sorry! He just surprised me.”

“It makes me wonder what else you might be doing with him,” Chan snarked.

Meanwhile, Felix calmly continued to play his video game while wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “Are you accusing me of having an affair?”

“Why not?” Chan shrugged. “Since we’re keeping secrets from each other.”

“It was just one lunch,” I shouted. “He’s never done anything like this before. Most of the time I’m alone in the lobby taking his stupid phone calls.”

“And that’s all I should ever hear about,” Chan growled. 

“You’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes before remembering just how much Chan hated it when I did that to him.

“Y/N,” Chan addressed me sternly, deciding to abandon his seat on the couch to crowd me in the foyer. “If this was anyone else, I wouldn’t make it into a bigger deal, but this is someone you used to fuck while running around campus bragging about it to everyone who would listen...which was usually me!”

“He doesn’t mean anything to me,” I said. “I already told you that!”

“You’ve said a lot of things recently,” Chan said. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s your brother’s fault since he’s always looking to cause a fight between us,” I said, glaring at Felix while he continued to play the part of the perfect little angel that Chan always considered him.

“Don’t drag Felix into this, he has nothing to do with anything!”

“Oh, don’t be stupid, Chan,” I huffed. “We fight more about Felix than we do about Changbin.”

“Stupid?!”

Oh, Jesus, Y/N, when are you going to learn to watch your big mouth? “Channie, I’m tired of fighting all the time. I feel like we’re always fighting.”

“Yeah? Well, you give me a lot of reasons to stay mad at you.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I groaned. “We never fought this much when we were dating.”

“Is that so? You think our marriage is the problem?”

I froze at his implications. At this point, Felix might as well drag out a bucket of popcorn because this was probably the most interesting drama he had watched all year. “Chan, you can’t honestly believe that.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Chan said, shaking his head. “But maybe I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“Chan!” I whined, fighting back tears as I watched him turn his back on me. For the first time since we had met, Chan was leaving an argument unresolved, choosing to lock himself away in our bedroom while I struggled to keep myself together in the middle of our foyer. 

“Goodbye, Y/N,” Felix whispered into the silent room, waving his fingers at me because he had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Felix’s birthday often turned into a multiple-day affair because he always wanted the best that money could buy. Since Chan and I still weren’t speaking to one another, Chan was taking the brunt of party preparations which meant Felix was practically over the moon with excitement. And why shouldn’t he be? He hit the metaphorical jackpot because he somehow got me in the doghouse while he soaked up all of Chan’s attention. 

“Y/N,” Felix whined. “My toast is burnt!”

“Sorry,” I murmured softly, taking his plate even though the bread looked perfectly fine. Meanwhile, Chan chose not to say a word, heavily engrossed in his laptop and doing his absolute best to pretend I was invisible. 

“What about this, Felix?” he asked, tilting his laptop screen so that his brother could see whatever it was that probably cost hundreds of dollars. On the other hand, I couldn’t even find the courage to ask Chan for his credit card so that I could replace the broken stool at our counter.

“That’s perfect, Channie!” Felix grinned, hanging off his brother’s shoulder like the little pest he was. 

Our Amazon shopping cart was steadily filling with Felix’s party supplies. But I guess it was just Chan’s account now since he had changed the password without telling me. I tried to order a new curtain for the bathroom, only to repeatedly watch the warning screen pop-up with every refresh of the page. “Who do you want at your party?” Chan asked Felix.

“Hyunjin, Jisung...” Felix started, listing out each name while I winced every time because our house would probably end up completely trashed at this rate.

“Whatever you want,” Chan said, apparently forgetting the last time Jisung came over only to break one of my grandmother’s expensive vases. Since it was my stuff, he probably didn’t care. “I have to leave soon,” Chan said, wordlessly clicking on the ‘place your order ’ button before logging off.

“Will you be gone all day again?” Felix pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and offering his very best puppy dog eyes.

23-years-old my ass.

“I’ll do my best,” Chan promised his brother. “Do you need anything while I’m out.”

“More chocolate cereal?”

10-years-old more likely.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Chan cooed to Felix, ruffling his hair before snatching his coat from my outstretched hand, refusing to even acknowledge my existence. 

Felix waited until Chan was gone to lean in across the counter. “You two are so cute, Medusa.”

“I fucking hate you,” I said, aggressively attacking the grease stain on the stainless steel pot I was currently washing.

“Whatever,” Felix shrugged. “Will you ask Minho to come to my birthday party?”

“There’s not a fucking chance in hell that I’m asking him,” I snapped.

“Why?” Felix posed the question as if he felt absolutely no shame. “I like Minho and I want him to be there.”

“Fuck off,” I retorted, drying my hands against the rough texture of the dishtowel.

Felix sniffled, reaching for his phone and holding it up to his ear. “Channie? Yeah, Y/N was being really mean to me-”

“-Jesus, fine, I’ll ask him,” I quickly interrupted the little Devil. “How old are you turning again?”

“24!” Felix grinned. 

“Then act like it,” I muttered while dialing Minho’s number.

There were only two rings before he answered. “It’s too early on Saturday for this bullshit, Y/N,” came Minho’s pleasant voice from the other end.

“You sleep too much anyway,” I returned. “I have something to ask you.”

“It better be pretty fucking important.”

“Will you come to Felix’s stupid birthday party this Friday?” I asked him, ignoring Felix’s bright smile as he tried to listen in on our conversation.

“Did you buy booze?”

“I’m sure Chan will buy the little bastard all the booze he wants,” I said, pushing Felix out of the way.

“What time?” Minho asked. “I’m a very busy man, Y/N.”

“The hell you are,” I snorted. “9:00 PM. Don’t be late! I’ll be the pathetic piece of trash sitting on the couch alone.”

“It’s about time you learn, Y/N,” Felix remarked, giggling when I threw the dishtowel at him.

“Still in trouble with hubby?” Minho asked. “I hear you have to stay separated for a year before the courts grant divorces these days.”

“You’re an asshole,” I said. “Should I put you down on the guest list?”

“Of course,” Minho said. “Underlined because I’m a VIP”

I hung up on him before he could dig his grave any deeper.

“Don’t burn that,” Felix scolded me, hovering by my side to play the part of Gordon Ramsay while I sweated my ass off to cook everything on his stupid party menu.

“It’s not burnt,” I grumbled. 

“I hope you’re not wearing that to my party,” Felix said, casting a critical eye over my outfit. 

I reached down to adjust the waistband of my skirt. “What’s wrong with it?”

“This is a classy party, Y/N, and you look like a hooker.”

“Go help your brother or something,” I said, doing my best to be nice since it was Felix’s birthday. I could manage some form of kindness even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Chan’s fine,” Felix waved me off even though I was certain I saw Chan struggling to hang up lights on the balcony just moments ago when I went to change my clothes.

I glanced at the clock above the stove. “Your fellow party animals will be here soon.”

“You’re not cool enough for those references,” Felix told me as he straightened his tie. 

“I wasn’t trying to be,” I said, wiping my forehead with a nearby towel. My makeup was probably smeared but I didn’t care. Who was I hoping to impress anyway? The only person I dressed up for was Chan and he could care less about my appearance.

And it was only a few minutes later when the doorbell started to ring. I took a deep breath to try and reassure myself that I could make it through tonight without another Advil. “Someone’s here!” Felix squeaked, knocking his shoulder against mine in his haste to answer the door.

“No matter who it is, I’ll still be in hell,” I muttered, closing my eyes when I recognized Hyunjin’s voice mixing with Felix’s.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin sang, poking his head in the kitchen as if he owned the place. “There you are! Looking all pretty for us.”

“That was the goal,” I half-heartedly quipped back, turning off the stove once I declared Felix’s stupid Tteok-bokki cooked enough.

“Your legs look good,” Hyunjin said, abruptly leaning in closer. “Are you even wearing anything under that skirt?”

“Hyunjin!” Felix shouted his friend’s name from the living room. “Come check out the decorations.”

Hyujin blew a kiss in my direction, tossing me a poor excuse for a wink. “Bye, Y/N!”

Maybe one more Advil wouldn’t hurt.

The party was in full swing by the time Minho finally arrived, greeting Felix with some kind of cheesy handshake. It was too late for me and I had already resigned myself to the futon of isolation in the living room, mourning the loss of one of my good dishes thanks to Han Jisung deciding to request something fancier than our regular set. “Sorry, Y/N,” Jisung had apologized. “I’m sure you can easily replace it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my dead grandmother has another lying around somewhere,” I snarled in his direction, ignoring his wide-eyed look of disbelief as I searched for the broom.

Minho eventually finished his conversation with Felix, offering me a sympathetic look while occupying the last remaining chair. “Y/N?”

“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” I told him.

“You look miserable,” Minho informed me, throwing up his feet on my glass coffee table even though I had told him countless times before to keep his dirty socks on the floor.

“Chan hates me,” I said. “Felix is happy.”

“Ah,” Minho nodded. “Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s all Felix’s fault,” I sniped. “He found out I went to lunch with Changbin and told Chan because he knew it would lead to an argument.”

“He still doesn’t like you?” Minho snorted as if the idea were amusing.

“Felix has hated me since the beginning of time. He was brought to this Earth to cause me misery.”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” Minho said. “Where is Chan, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “If he wasn’t with Felix, then you might want to check the balcony. I think I saw him sneaking the Advil bottle out there earlier.”

Minho snickered. “You don’t even realize it, but you two are grossly similar. I’m sure Chan would have preferred a quiet dinner out somewhere.”

“Well, Felix always gets what he wants,” I said. “It’s been this way since high school.”

Minho considered me for a moment. “In his defense, Chan has always been Felix’s best friend. They’ve been attached at the hip since they were kids, but then you came into the picture. Suddenly, Chan isn’t as interested in spending all his time with Felix any more.”

“Are you saying I need to find Felix a girlfriend?”

“Y/N,” Minho said softly. “I’m just saying, maybe you need to think about things from Felix’s perspective for once. You were an only child, so you can’t understand what it means to share a close relationship with a brother.”

“Hmm, well you’re like a brother to me,” I teased him.

“Ugh,” Minho gagged. “You’ve had my dick in your mouth before, Y/N, please never say that again.”

“I was trying to be sweet,” I said. “But you ruined it.”

“Did I?” Minho smirked, glancing up at something behind me. “Are you having a good time, Felix?”

“We’re out of beer,” Felix interrupted, face suddenly mere inches from mine. 

“You shouldn’t drink like a fish.”

“Medusa,” Felix tried again, holding out a ring of car keys. “Make yourself useful and buy us some more beer.”

I rolled my eyes but acquiesced. “Whatever you want, your majesty.”

I hated winter in New York City because the sidewalks were icy all the time and I was constantly in danger of rolling my ankle. Nevertheless, I tolerated the snow and wind by trading my heels for rain boots and wrapping my body in the thickest coat I owned. Normally, I might consider walking to the convenience store, but tonight I knew my fingers would be nothing but frozen icicles if I attempted that perilous journey.

Thankfully, the traffic was fairly light this late at night which allowed a relatively quick drive to the store, parking my corvette at the sidewalk. I walked inside with a muffled greeting to the store attendant, searching down the aisle to where the beer was stocked in the freezers. “He didn’t even tell me what he wanted,” I scoffed, deciding on the expensive Corona from the bottom shelf since Felix always liked things more when they cost a lot of money.

“Having a party?” the store attendant joked, accepting my debit card after ringing up the cases. 

“Something like that,” I said, wondering if that was always his assumption if someone bought more than one bottle of the nasty smelling beverage.

Meanwhile, it had started snowing again when I walked back outside, popping the trunk to store the beer until I finally returned home. I switched on the ignition and turned on the heat to its fullest setting before sitting back in my seat to wrap my arms around myself, fighting off a series of chills. The action reminded me of Junior Year when Chan and I used to make late-night trips to the gas station near his apartment complex. We’d buy all sorts of unnecessary snacks, driving back together because we had planned a movie marathon of Harry Potter. Chan always complained about the films I liked, but he watched them anyway because he knew I enjoyed them.

I came to a stop at a red light, frowning when I noticed that nobody was coming in either direction. “Change already,” I ordered the traffic light as if it could possibly accommodate my request. 

“I’ll teach you patience, Y/N,” Chan once told me after we waited nearly an hour in a heavy downpour outside the comic book shop because he just had to have some kind of rare edition figurine.

The traffic light eventually turned green and I rolled out into the intersection, never noticing the reckless SUV until mere seconds before it crashed into the side of my car.

I had the worst luck in the world when it came to relationships. First, there was my tired rendezvous with Minho in high school, blowing my best friend in the bathroom because he’d always fuck me with his fingers afterward. Then, there was that slimy bastard Seo Changbin who I willingly gave my virginity to, thinking he was the love of my life. That was before I found out he was cheating on me with some sleazy cheerleader thanks to a couple of photos surfacing on Facebook. My heart was instantly broken, pride in shambles as I spent an entire week hiding out in my dormitory ignoring all phone calls and text messages as I cried over a boy who never deserved my attention in the first place.

I plucked a few strands of grass from the ground next to my feet, savoring the first taste of sunlight I had allowed myself since that unfortunate discovery. Who the hell did Seo Changbin think he was anyway? Playing with my heart like that as if it meant absolutely nothing to him. 

At least I wasn’t sad anymore, having spent enough time crying over the destructive boy. Now, all I could think about was smacking that stupid smug grin off his face while thoroughly purging my built-up frustrations...“Y/N?”

I turned around quickly at the sound of Chan’s voice, rising to my feet to brush the loose grass and dirt from my jeans. “Channie,” I said, nervously wringing my hands in front of me. Chan was probably mad at me since I had been ignoring him all week.

“Are you okay?” he asked instead, tone surprisingly gentle as he stopped in front of me.

“Not really,” I told him honestly.

“I didn’t think so,” Chan said, features hardening. “I’ll beat the shit out of Seo for you.”

I shook my head. “That won’t do any good.”

“But if it makes you feel better,” Chan said, reaching out to delicately swipe his thumb under my eyes. “You aren’t sleeping.”

It was more of a statement rather than a question, but I still felt the need to reassure him. “I promise that I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Chan said, offering me a kind smile. “I can tell, you know?”

“Yeah you’re good at that,” I groused. 

“I’m pretty good at a lot of things when it comes to you,” Chan admitted, eyes holding a pure kind of affection as they appraised me.

“I’m glad I have you,” I said, letting out a sigh as I allowed my head to rest against the center of his chest. “You don’t think I’m stupid for trying things out with Changbin?”

“You’ve always liked him,” Chan said with a bitter tone that sounded more like a jealous lover rather than a friend.

I chose not to say anything. “I hope the two of them make each other miserable.”

Chan chuckled. “Is this your form of revenge?”

“I don’t think it’ll work out in my favor,” I said, pressing myself even closer to Chan, pausing when my hand drug across his stomach. “Holy shit, Channie, you weren’t kidding about the gym.”

“Did you not believe me?”

“Who are you trying to impress?��� I grinned, propping my chin against his sternum to make it easier to look into his eyes.

“It’s always been the same person,” Chan said vaguely, dimples on display as he considered me. “I hope Seo didn’t destroy your faith in relationships.”

“It wouldn’t be entirely his fault,” I sighed. “All my relationships have been complete failures.

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, brushing a light kiss across my forehead. “Maybe it’s because you’ve never tried the right guy.”

The memory was laced with something warm, an association that stood in stark contradiction to my current condition, slowly opening my eyes to a pulsing room, somehow much too bright for my pupils to adjust. Was I alive? I wondered because I couldn’t really feel anything which was certainly disarming. But then there was a familiar smell, rancid and burning, and it made me feel like I was definitely not in any sort of happy afterlife. There was also the problem of the blurry figure slowly coming into focus next to me, fiddling with an array of wires twisting together with the sounds of a machine distantly clicking in the background. I watched through hooded eyes as the now perceivable person in question handled an impressively large needle, pinching my skin painfully at the juncture of my elbow. 

“Han Jisung,” I began, startling him from where he was checking the IV. “Just put a fucking needle into my arm. What hellish realm have I descended into?”

“Y/N!” Jisung squealed loudly, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss against my forehead. 

“What the hell was that for?”

“For not dying,” Jisung sighed in relief. “When you came in, there was nothing but blood and glass everywhere!... Oh, and Chan may or may not have a fine against him for beating the living shit out of the asshole that hit you.”

“Why are you so loud?” I groaned, palming my forehead because the room was still swimming into focus. “What happened?”

“You probably don’t remember,” Jisung said. “It was a pretty bad concussion, but you were in a car accident.”

“I was?” I questioned, struggling to recall anything past a few minutes ago when I first realized that incompetent Han Jisung was sticking pointy objects into my veins.

“Chan was so upset,” Jisung said. “He wanted to do the surgery, but the superintendent wouldn’t let him.”

“Surgery?” I repeated. “I had surgery?”

“Cuz’ of your ribs,” Jisung said quietly as if finally realizing that he probably shouldn’t be saying all this to me at once, especially if the persistent beeping of the heart monitor was something to be concerned about.

“What’s wrong with my ribs?” I asked, somewhat panicking as I felt down my chest, noticing the thick bandage wrapped around my upper body. 

“Chill, Y/N,” Jisung placated, reaching around me to adjust the monitor. “Now I can’t get an accurate reading!”

“So sorry to inconvenience you,” I said with a hoarse voice, reaching up to quickly wrap my hand around my throat. “Is there something wrong with my voice?”

“Well, you’ve been out for three days so...”

“Three days!”

Now I was definitely panicking, full-on hysteria as the heart monitor loudly detected the irregular contraction of the muscle thundering aggressively against my chest. It was enough to alert the doctor on duty, walking into my room to check on his patient, scolding Jisung harshly as he filled a syringe with a clear liquid. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he said kindly, injecting the fluid into my IV. “Just relax.”

My eyelids fluttered closed, overwhelmed by a disjointed sense of calm that gradually pulled me back under the current of drug-induced bliss.

“Sweetie.”

My eyes flew open at the sound of his voice, the best wake-up call in the whole world. I slowly turned my head to the side, taking in the sight of my disheveled husband, eyes blood-shot with heavy dark bags haunting tight circles against his pale skin. “Channie?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Chan sniffled, fresh tears swelling his cheeks as he leaned in closer to grip tightly to my hand. “It’s all my fault.”

I considered him closely, wondering what he could possibly mean by accepting blame for whatever was causing him obvious pain. I faintly remember Jisung telling me about am accident, but it was difficult to really think back any further, like a wall had enclosed around my brain, refusing to allow anything else to come into consciousness. But Chan didn’t need to cry, he was usually the best part of my life, waking up in bed together to share sweet kisses or eagerly waiting for him to come home and swoon over my newest K-Drama obsession. “Why are you sad?” I asked him, reaching out to do my best and wipe away those nasty tears.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” Chan cried, heart-wrenching sobs that broke my heart with every heavy inhale. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“Is that why you’re upset?” I asked, wiping away a few mischievous curls that had wandered into his eyes. 

“I found you in the intersection,” Chan whispered. “And the car...” he trailed off with a choking gasp as if the details were too horrific to describe. 

“I’m here now, Channie,” I said, desperate to relieve his sadness. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

Chan nodded furiously, pressing a wet kiss to the back of my hand. “I can’t lose you like that, sweetie.”

“Well, I plan to stick around for a while,” I said, earning me a half-smile in return. “Channie,” I whispered, glancing around the room conspiratorially. “Is there anything good to eat in this place?”

This time Chan did laugh and it was the best medicine I could possibly have.

“Vitals?” Chan asked, lingering around the poor nurse who clearly wasn’t expecting this much attention over one patient when she clocked in this morning.

“I already checked them,” the nurse informed him, writing down something on the chart clipped to the edge of my bed. I sipped my water as I watched the two of them, wondering if Chan had been this overbearing the entire time.

“Temperature?”

“98 degrees.”

“Blood pressure?”

“122/75”

“Respiration?”

“Chan,” I whispered softly, immediately drawing my husband’s attention who was at my side in an instant. “I think the nurse knows how to do her job.”

The poor woman shot me a grateful smile as she re-clipped my chart, hurrying out of the room as if she couldn’t possibly escape fast enough. “Sorry,” Chan said, taking his seat next to me. “I’m just worried.”

“I get discharged tomorrow,” I told him. “Pretty sure that means I’m just fine.”

“But your leg,” Chan whined, fussily messing with the large cast, tucking the blankets in securely.

“It’ll heal,” I said, frowning as I picked at the squishy jello the nursing staff had brought in earlier. “Isn’t there anything else to eat?”

Chan tsked. “That’s good for you, Y/N. It’s full of necessary vitamins.”

I should have known better than to ask my doctor husband if I could possibly have something that actually had flavor to eat. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, Chan refused to waver from the nasty daily meals I was brought, much to my disappointment. “I’d kill for a burger.”

“Too much fat,” Chan said, turning down the idea before I could possibly try to negotiate.

“It physically hurts me to eat,” I tried. “I think they’re secretly plotting my death.”

“Y/N,” Chan scolded lightly. “There’s a reason why we serve this to patients, alright?”

I frowned at him but shoved a spoonful of the nasty substance in my mouth, earning me a pleased smile in response. “Happy?”

“You can have better food tomorrow,” Chan said, pausing as he reached down to check his phone notifications. “Minho is here,” he grumbled. “I guess I’ll go get him from the lobby before he gets lost.”

“Thank you, darling,” I chirped, accepting his brief kiss.

“I’ve seen worse,” Minho declared, ignoring Chan’s disbelieving scoff. 

“You obviously weren’t here when she was first brought in,” Chan growled to him.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Minho asked, disregarding Chan who had gone back to check the dozens of machines somehow monitoring my every possible bodily function.

“Hungry,” I grimaced, pointing to my discarded container.

Minho lifted it curiously, bringing it his nose before he let out an unattractive grunt. “Is this garbage?”

“Don’t encourage her,” Chan said, reaching for my chart for the millionth time that day. “I’ll be right back, Y/N.”

“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes once his back was turned.

I waited until Chan was gone before desperately reaching out for Minho. “You’ve got to help me, Minho! I can’t stand another day of jello and mashed potatoes. Get me a Big Mac and I’ll give you the number of one of my work acquaintances.”

 Minho raised an interested brow. “Scale?”

“Oh, she’s definitely an 8...please!”

“That’s impossible to turn down, Y/N,” Minho grinned. “Give me ten minutes.”

I snatched his sleeve before he could walk away. “Make sure Chan doesn’t see.”

“So ask Han Jisung to fuck something up, got it.”

“You’re my best friend in the entire world. The rest of my life will be spent in your servitude.”

Minho offered me a brief salute and I solemnly nodded my head while ignoring the way my stomach growled.

It was growing dark outside and I’m pretty sure Jisung had accidentally given me too much of whatever pain medicine I had been prescribed. I could barely keep my eyes open as Chan settled next to me on his chair. “Y/N,” he said softly, picking at an invisible string on his suit pants. “I want to talk to you about the fight we had.”

My exhaustion vanished in a flash. “Okay,” I said, even though I had been hoping Chan would just forget that the fight even happened.

“I owe you an apology,” Chan said. “For acting like a jealous prick. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s my fault too,” I said. “I know how you feel about him, but I still went out anyway.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Chan said, swallowing down the lie even though I could always read him like a book. “But every time I think about Seo Changbin, I can’t help but remember Freshman year.”

“You act like he broke your heart instead,” I tried to joke, but Chan was everything but amused.

“Yeah, he did break your heart, Y/N, and I’ll never forgive him for it. He was an arrogant bastard back then, and I’m sure that hasn’t changed much.”

“Not really,” I agreed, recalling our prior lunch arrangement.

“And I’ll never be okay with the fact that you work with your ex-boyfriend, but since you love the job so much, I can’t possibly fight with you anymore,” Chan said. “I should trust you as my wife.”

“I’m not remotely interested in Changbin,” I said. “It just sucks that he’s got good connections.”

“But if he tries anything on you...”

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I would never do anything to hurt you, even if his thighs look super good these days.”

“Y/N.”

“I know, Channie,” I giggled, reaching for his hand. “Trust me, alright? I don’t plan to work there forever. Fingers crossed for a promotion to the publisher.”

“I’ll pray every night if I have to,” Chan said. “As for Felix...”

“Don’t worry about him,” I said. “I know that I should try harder to get along with Felix.”

“It’s a two-way street,” Chan countered. “I’ve spoken to him about everything.”

“You have?” I wavered. “What did he say?”

“Well, he feels really bad about the accident,” Chan said. “I think he realizes how much better things would be if you guys were on friendlier terms.”

“He really looks up to you,” I said, recalling Minho’s words from before. “I hope he doesn’t feel like I’m trying to steal you away.”

“Felix and I have always been close,” Chan said. “We both had a hard time moving here from Australia. But at the end of the day, we could rely on each other..”

“High school wasn’t very good to either of you,” I said.

“Well, except for you of course,” Chan said, attempting a smile. 

“They were mean to you, Channie,” I said, “and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I’ve gotten over that,” Chan insisted. “But Felix always took everything harder than me. He wasn’t very social until college.”

“He should have stuck to being an introvert,” I said. “Look at the kind of friends he ended up with.”

“Are you saying Hyunjin is a bad influence?”

“Have you been around for our interactions?

“I’ve definitely noticed, Y/N. Remember what happened that one time when we went camping-”

“Anyways,” I loudly interrupted. “It seems like we both have a lot of things to work on.”

“But that’s why we talk about it,” Chan said, pressing a soothing kiss to the wrinkled crease of my forehead. “That’s what married couples do, right?”

“Ah, Channie, when did you become a walking cliche?”

“Should I be more serious, then?”

“You’re getting there with the doctor’s jacket.”

“Really?” Chan asked, sitting back in his chair. “Is this your way of asking us to try some kind of kinky roleplay?”

“I don’t know, but it might be interesting. Can I call you Dr. Bang?”

Chan was positively beaming. “You can always call me Daddy instead.”

“Darling, I think they accidentally gave you my prescription of morphine.”

If anyone were to ever ask me, then I’d tell them that signing hospital discharge papers was about as difficult as applying for a loan. “How many more are there?” I wondered, scribbling a messy signature at the bottom of the last sheet Jisung had brought for me to sign.

“I think that’s it.”

“You think?” I snorted, watching Jisung sort through each page carefully like he really had no idea what he was holding.

“Each year they add more shit for the patients,” Jisung explained. “I’m pretty sure they do it just to confuse me.”

“Everything confuses you, Jisung,” I said, patting his arm sympathetically. “Has Chan come in yet?”

“He’s on his way with Felix.”

“Goodie,” I grumbled. “Are you working late today?”

“Someone has to help since Chan insists on taking the day off,” Jisung said.

“I hope they aren’t planning on letting you do the surgeries.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

I kept my mouth shut, deciding to let Jisung live in his deluded fantasy world where he could somehow manage to cure patients of their ailments as opposed to causing them. Unsurprisingly, since the moment I had first met him, Jisung had always been completely sure of himself even if he was whole-heartedly wrong. For example, when we were all seniors in college, Chan refused to speak to Jisung for an entire week after the two of them received an F on their group project. Apparently, Jisung forgot to submit the lab report on time and waited an additional week before approaching the professor to politely ask if he could still bring it to her after class.

“Channie,” I tried to console him. “You know Jisung didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, but my GPA will still suffer the consequences,” Chan had sulked, whining about how difficult it was to maintain a friendship with Han Jisung.

Yet, when Chan was first hired by the hospital, Chan sent in a very persuasive reference for Jisung, encouraging the higher-ups to offer him a nursing position. The three of us went out to celebrate Jisung’s new job offer, nursing shots of bad vodka while eating rather terrible sushi. “Chan,” a very tipsy Jisung had said. “I love you so much, man.”

“Oi, keep your hands to yourself,” Chan had grouched despite wearing the biggest grin on his face...

“Y/N,” Jisung interrupted my recollection. “I think Chan just got here.”

“Finally,” I sighed. “I thought I would never be able to get the smell of alcohol out of my nose.”

“Thank God you’re here,” I said the moment Chan and Felix walked into my hospital room. “I’m pretty sure I had to sign my life away to leave this place, but it’s totally worth it.”

Chan rolled his eyes playfully. “I see you’re feeling better this morning.”

“I’ve been better for days,” I said. “But my doctor wouldn’t allow me to so much as breathe the wrong way.”

���Is that so?” Chan asked, reaching down for my discarded bag. “Your doctor sounds like a real asshole.”

“Yeah, but he’s pretty hot. I’d totally fuck him if I wasn’t already married.”

“It sounds like you have a thing for doctors?” Chan asked. “Does this husband of yours know that?”

“He probably does,” I said. “But I feel like he’ll probably leave me to masturbate on my own for months because of this dumb cast.”

“Y/N,” Chan scoffed. “It’s important for you to heal properly.”

I groaned loudly. “Why are you so responsible?”

Chan carefully handed me my bag. “Make sure you have everything. I’m going to talk to your surgeon one more time before we leave.”

It was difficult to prevent myself from protesting, finally realizing just how quiet it was with just me and Felix in the room. “Hi, Felix,” I said, awkwardly adjusting my blankets once Chan had disappeared from sight.

“Y/N,” Felix said, gaze focused on some unidentifiable point on the floor.

“What have you been up to?” I asked, trying to sound cheery because I didn’t like the look of despondence on Felix’s normally bright visage.

“I owe you an apology, Y/N,” Felix said with a vulnerable tone I had never heard from him before. “It’s because of me that you got hurt.”

“Felix,” I hesitated because this was uncharted territory for the both of us, a distant cry from our usual taunting banter. “You don’t need to do that. Everything’s fine now.”

“Your leg,” Felix whispered as an unexpected tear slid down the side of his face.

“It’s just a fracture,” I shrugged. “I’ll be just fine in a few months.”

“Just a fracture,” Felix parroted back, voice thick with emotion. “Why aren’t you mad at me? Because you should be. I’m always getting in your way.”

“Is that what you think?” I asked, surprised to hear Felix’s true feelings. “Felix, you aren’t in anybody’s way. You know I don’t really care that you’re staying with us, especially after you just graduated. I just wish you’d be a little bit more respectful.”

“Because I’ve always been jealous of you, Y/N,” Felix said. “Especially since Chan likes you more than me.”

“Felix, you know that Chan loves you. He would do anything in the world to make you happy.”

“He’s always chosen you over me,” Felix said. “He stopped hanging out with me on weekends in high school, and he even went to the same college as you even though he was accepted into Harvard and Yale.”  

I was shocked by Felix’s true feelings, a rare moment of vulnerability that he was choosing to share with me. “Lixie,” I said. “Why have you never said anything before?”

Felix shivered at my use of his nickname. “I didn’t want to. You guys are so happy together and I didn’t want to hurt Chan.”

“Ya! Felix,” I frowned, “your feelings matter too. And if you really feel that way, then we need to talk about it together.”

“I’m just a burden,” Felix gruffed.

“No, you aren’t,” I insisted. “You’re part of our family, and if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable, then you deserve to be heard.”

“You don’t really mean that do you, Y/N?” Felix asked with glistening eyes. “I don’t want you to say these things just to make me feel better.”

“Felix, when have you ever seen me lying to someone just to protect their feelings?” I asked. “I always speak my mind, and this time I’m putting my foot down. When we get home, we’re having a movie marathon, just the three of us. And this weekend, you and Chan can go somewhere together out of town. I’ll have Minho stay with me instead.”

“Really?” Felix asked, swiping a sleeve under his bright red nose. 

“We’re in-laws you know,” I said. “That means we look out for one another.”

“Y/N,” Felix giggled and, for once, I didn’t feel the slightest bit annoyed. 

“Lee Felix, don’t you ever let me catch you crying like this again, understand?”

Felix nodded, smiling so brilliantly that I was reminded of when we were much younger and he was just an innocent little boy who idolized his older brother.

“Careful,” Chan said, holding the door wide with one hand while keeping a firm grip around my waist. 

“I’m not gonna break,” I grumbled, pausing in the doorway as I let out a grateful sigh. It was a huge relief to be back at home and not stuck in that hospital room surrounded by questionable smells. 

Chan carefully led me into the living room and I gave him my crutches before collapsing on the futon, ignoring the rigid fabric because I had never been happier to hug one of the matching throw pillows. “Comfortable?” Chan asked, helping me prop my leg up on the coffee table. Meanwhile, Felix lingered in the doorway, grasping my bag tightly between his hands.

“Come join us, Felix,” I said. “You’ll let out all the heat.”

Felix nodded, eyes wide as he locked the door behind him. Chan sent me a curious look as if he wasn’t sure what I was hoping to accomplish by inviting his younger brother into the same room. “I have something for you.”

I clapped my hands together eagerly. “Is it something loaded with carbohydrates and fat?”

“Not quite,” he said, handing me my cell phone. “Seo Enterprises called earlier today. I already contacted them about the accident, but I guess they need to hear from you.”

“Great,” I grimaced, dialing the number from memory. It rang for a few moments, and Chan and Felix were both messing around with the TV, probably trying to figure out what to watch. Because the only thing the two brothers argued about was whether action movies were better than romance.

“Seo Enterprises, this is Eliza speaking how can I help you today?”

“Hi,” I immediately cringed, wondering how many cool points I could possibly lose in one day. “This is Y/N, can I speak to Mr. Seo please?”

“I can transfer you right away,” Eliza spoke promptly as if she had already been prepared to receive my call.

“Y/N!” Changbin’s voice now answered. “I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a lot of bad luck recently,” I said. “I guess you know about the accident.”

“I heard,” Changbin said. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” I said. “But I might need some time away from the company. Apparently, a broken leg is a pretty big deal.”

“Take as much time as you need, Y/N,” Changbin said. “I’ve hired a temporary secretary until you’re ready to come back.”

“I don’t know, Changbin,” I said. “It might take several weeks. Maybe you should just hire a replacement.”

“There’s no need for that, Y/N,” Changbin countered. “I still believe you’re the best person for the job.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” I trailed off, shaking my head furiously at Chan when he held up our used copy of The Notebook.

“I’m definitely sure,” Changbin said. “Call me when you want to come back. We still have a lot of things I want to do together in the future.”

“You’re too indecisive,” Chan said, finally taking a well-deserved seat next to me on the futon. 

“And you have terrible taste in cinema,” Felix retorted.

“Yeah? Well maybe we should just let Y/N pick,” Chan suggested, mouthing a sweet kiss against my temple.

“I think Felix should decide,” I said, cuddling up closer to Chan’s side. 

“Really?” Felix asked, appearing entirely surprised that I would allow him such freedom.

“Why not?” I sighed happily. “I’ll even watch that weird anime movie if you want.”

Felix scoffed but a faint smile remained as he grabbed the remote. Chan chuckled and leaned down to press another kiss to the top of my forehead. “I’m proud of you, sweetie,” he whispered.

“It’s only because I love you so much,” I said while shrugging indifferently, but Chan could always read through me.

“Hmm, well I love you more,” he said, brushing his fingers through my hair as the opening credits rolled across the screen.

[kmomof4]

Chosen, Protected, & Saved        Ch.1

We’re back again with more of Chosen, Protected, & Saved for the @captainswanmoviemarathon​, y’all!!! Now to find out what happened to Henry and figure out how to get him back! I hope y'all enjoy this! Thank you so much for coming along on this ride with me!! I’d love to know what you think!!

All the love and hugs to @profdanglaisstuff​ and @hollyethecurious​ for their grammar goddess-ness-eses and all their help in the crafting of this story!! I’ll be forever indebted to both of these lovely ladies!!! *MWAH* 😘 

Summary: A little boy with the Heart of the Truest Believer. Demonic forces will stop at nothing to possess it. It’s up to Killian Jones, PI to find him and save him before it’s too late.

Rating: T

Words: 7288 of almost 18K

Tags: Inspired by The Golden Child, Kidnapping, Magic, Minor Character Death, Temporary Major Character Death, True Loves Kiss

ao3 link Prologue on Tumblr

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Ch. 1

Emma Swan came down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen for her morning coffee fix. She expected to find six year old Henry watching PBS Kids since he was usually up before her. She glanced into the den only to see the room was empty and the tv was off.

Puzzled, she turned on the coffee maker and headed back upstairs to see if he’d actually slept in for once. The bathroom door was open, and the light was off, so he definitely wasn’t in there. She opened the door to his bedroom. It took a moment before her brain caught up to what she was seeing.  

Henry was gone.

Everything in his room was in its place except his comforter. It wasn’t unheard of for Henry to wake in the night and go back to sleep on the sofa in the den. But if he had done that, he’d still be awake by now and have the tv on. Then she saw the  large blood stain near his bed and her heart rate went into overdrive. Nausea rose in her throat and she swallowed hard trying to hold down the bile.

She struggled to control her breathing as panic threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel small traces of what felt like Henry’s magic still hovering in the room. What was she going to do? Her breathing hitched as tears filled her eyes. Henry was gone. There was blood on his floor. The sheriff had no experience with kidnappings and would do little more than make eyes at her instead of actually investigating and finding Henry. Her mind turned to her best friend and teacher, Regina Mills. She’d be able to track Henry and find out who’d taken him. She found Henry’s favorite scarf that he wore all year round no matter how hot it got. She looked around one more time, making sure she wasn’t missing anything, before she teleported herself to Regina’s.

~*~*~

“Regina. Regina! Wake up! He’s gone!”

Regina swam up from the sweet abyss of sleep at the panic and urgency she heard in her friend’s voice.

“What are you do. . . Who’s gone,” she mumbled, groggily.

“Henry,” Emma said. That brought Regina’s muddled thoughts into razor sharp clarity.

“What?” she snapped.

Emma took a deep breath, still trying to bring her breathing under control. Speaking as calmly and coherently as she could, she pushed the panic back down.

“Henry is missing. He’s usually up before I am, so when I came down this morning and didn’t see him anywhere, I went to his bedroom. He was gone, his comforter was gone, and there was blood on the floor.” Her voice hitched as the panic tried to come back up.

Regina swung out of bed and grabbed her robe, tying it around her. “Was there any sign of forced entry? Either in his bedroom or anywhere else in the house?” She led the way down to the kitchen where she turned on the coffee maker. She knew she was gonna need the caffeine boost.

“Not that I saw,” Emma replied. “When I realized he was gone, I came straight here. But there was some residual magic in his room. It felt like his though.”

“Did you bring anything of his that I can track him with?”

Emma nodded and held up Henry’s favorite gray and red striped scarf. It had been knitted by Granny, the proprietor of a little diner in town, and for whatever reason, Henry had latched onto it almost like a security blanket. Regina was almost surprised that he didn’t actually sleep with it.

The Swans had arrived in Storybrooke about five years ago. It was about a year after moving to the magical town that Emma’s magic had awoken and Regina had begun training her in its use. In all her years of study and practice, she’d never seen the kind of raw power that she saw in Emma Swan. She had the potential to be an extremely powerful practitioner of white magic. So when Henry’s abilities manifested (his Heart of the Truest Believer produced an actual X-Wing fighter in their backyard after seeing the latest Star Wars movie), she was hardly surprised and began training him as well. It had only been a little over a year and most of their sessions consisted of self-defense, since she was well aware that the forces of evil in this world would be very interested in him and his abilities. Emma had insisted, and she had agreed, that age five was a little young to start him on actual, practical magic. Unfortunately, her training apparently hadn’t helped him last night.

After getting her coffee and leading the way into her study, she opened the cabinet where her tracking potion was kept. Emma handed her the scarf and Regina was suddenly in a different place. She stood in a hallway with a door in front her with the name Killian Jones, Private Investigator emblazoned on the frosted glass. She turned to her left and saw a very handsome man with black hair, blue eyes, and dark scruff tinged with ginger coming down the hallway. He pulled out his key and opened the door in front of her. Even in the vision she could feel the buzz of magic around him. Her eyes narrowed. To her knowledge, there were only pockets of magical places in this world, and this place was not one of them. How could he have such powerful magic in the Land Without Magic? A long forgotten memory tickled the edges of her mind, but she concentrated on the man in front of her instead of trying to grasp at it.

As Killian Jones disappeared through the door, Regina found herself back in her home again. She shook her head and looked at Emma.

“You saw something didn’t you?” Emma asked, grabbing her arm.  “Did you see Henry? Where is he?” Regina could see the panic rising up again in her eyes.

“Yes, I saw something,” she began, “No, it wasn’t Henry.”

The despair on Emma’s face nearly brought tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to her friend. “But I did see someone who, I think, I’m pretty sure, can help.” She set down her potion, opened her laptop, and typed “Killian Jones, Private Investigator” into the search bar. In seconds she had a website, telephone number, and address. Boston. Just two hours away. Perfect. After printing out directions, she handed them to Emma. “Here. In case GPS goes screwy. Find Killian Jones.” She nodded in her certainty. “He’ll help us find Henry.”

Emma sputtered. “But who is he? Why him? What do you know about him?”

“Nothing yet. Beyond the fact that I saw him when I touched Henry’s scarf. But I’ve got an inkling. I need to do some research to make 100% sure.”

“Okay, but what about tracking him? Can you still use his scarf to see where he is?”

“Not likely,” Regina said. “Magic has rules. And when you’re dealing with non-magical items, they can only be used once. Since the scarf is not magic and it’s shown me this man, I won’t be able to use it again to find him. Killian Jones is our best bet. He was shown to me for a reason. He will find Henry.”

Emma took a deep breath. She wasn’t quite ready to trust this unknown man to find her son, but she trusted Regina implicitly. If Regina said this Killian Jones would help, then she believed her.

Emma’s chin trembled and her eyes filled with tears. Regina reached out and drew her friend into a comforting hug. “We have to find him, Regina,” Emma whispered. “I can’t live without him.”

“I know, Emma.” Regina drew back and looked her in the eyes. “And we will find him. Let’s get back to his room, you call and make an appointment with Jones. He’ll be fine, Emma. Even if Henry is unable to use his magic right now, the protection spell that I’ve placed over him will hold.” Emma nodded her head and wiped the tears from her face before Regina waved her hand and transported them both to Henry’s bedroom.

Emma stepped outside to call Killian Jones as Regina looked around. The sizable bloodstain on the carpet was alarming, but when she bent and held her hand out over it, she could discern no magical properties in the blood. Whoever it belonged to had no magic of their own. Closing her eyes and opening her Seer’s eye, Regina could see the threads of magic remaining in the room. Henry’s was a bright green, almost chartreuse. While much darker and fainter, she also found evidence of her old teacher, the Dark One.

Reaching out and touching the strands of magic she found, the events from last night filled her mind. She saw two boys appear in the room in a cloud of grey smoke.  Boys that she recognized from her time under the Dark One’s tutelage and who hadn’t aged a single day. She couldn’t remember their names, though. As the shorter one reached the bed, she saw Henry’s hand reach out and grab him. She couldn’t help the surge of pride she felt that he was able to do that small bit to protect himself. The boy turned to his companion and tackled him, but only moments later, he was laying on the carpet, blood pouring out of the stab wound the other one had left. She watched as the other boy leapt onto the bed and the struggle that ensued. She saw the boy get ahold of Henry’s wrist and slap a black cuff on him before all three of them were enveloped in another cloud of smoke. She released a resigned sigh and opened her eyes.

Emma returned. “I have a one-thirty appointment.”

“Good,” Regina replied. “I was right. The Dark One has taken him. Or rather, the Dark One’s errand boys took him. The blood isn’t Henry’s.” Emma let out a sigh of relief at that news. “It was the Dark One’s magic that transported the kidnappers both to and from. The magic you felt was definitely Henry’s. He used it to defend himself against one of the kidnappers. Henry’s magic is purely good, so a touch is all it took for the kidnapper to become a protector instead. Unfortunately, that may have been his death sentence. All three of them were taken back once Henry was subdued. I don’t expect the Dark One would be that concerned about saving the boy that got stabbed, so it’s likely that he’s dead.” Regina fell silent, her face grim.

Emma’s face mirrored her concern, but the evidence of her tears were gone. “Okay, I’ve got to get going here in a bit. Is there anything else I need to know?”

“There’s no need to tell him anything about magic,” Regina mused, “He’s not aware of his own, so chances are mentioning it would give him every reason to refuse to help us. Just tell him that he comes very highly recommended and that money is no object.”

“What if he asks about the police?”

“You tell him the truth. That they are involved but there are extenuating circumstances that you don’t trust in Ozman’s hands. He carries a torch for you and you need someone who will actually take this seriously instead of see it as an opportunity to try and weasel themselves into your affections, as despicable as that is.” Emma rolled her eyes at the quite accurate assessment of her would be suitor. “Bring Jones here in the morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Emma interrupted, “Why tomorrow? Why not today? Every minute we’re not looking, is another minute that the Dark One can use to hurt Henry!”

“Emma,” she countered, grabbing her by the shoulders, “It will take some time away from Storybrooke before the protection spell I have on him will fade enough for the Dark One to do anything to him. Three, four days at least. Don’t worry.” Regina stared hard at Emma. “We will get him back and he will be fine,” she assured her. “I’ll be spending today researching my hunch and hopefully, getting a bead on where he was taken and how to get him back.”

Emma’s restless anxiety was not fully assuaged, but it was significantly lessened by Regina’s certainty. She nodded. “Okay. Keep me updated and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emma nodded before the friends embraced and she spun on her heel and left the room.

~*~*~

Killian Jones looked up from the remains of his lunch as his secretary, Ariel, poked her head in.

“Your one-thirty is here, Killian.”

“Thanks, Ariel. Just give me a minute.”

She withdrew as he gathered the debris on the desk in front of him and dumped it all in the trash. Standing up, he ran his fingers through his hair and stepped through to the outer office.

A goddess with nearly waist length blonde hair and green eyes looked up at him. He had to shake his head slightly and snap his mouth shut to keep from looking like a total moron in front of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He held his hand out to her and she rose and placed her own hand in his. He couldn’t help but run his thumb over her knuckles as he introduced himself.

“Killian Jones, at your service.”

Her eyes widened and she was completely captivated by the startling blue of his. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. I’m Emma Swan.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Killian Jones was easily the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

“Please, come in. And call me Killian,” he encouraged, dropping her hand and placing his on the small of her back to lead her into his office.

She shook her head slightly as she felt her cheeks heat. The heat from his hand spread over her back, bringing a soothing warmth with it. She normally would have balked at a virtual stranger touching her like that, but somehow she knew that it was a gesture of protection and guidance, not control. That small distinction further confirmed the decision to seek him out. But, she couldn’t afford to be attracted to him. She had a purpose in coming here- and she would do well to remember that. “Killian, then,” she agreed. She took her seat where he indicated as he moved to the other side of the desk and sat down.

“How may I help you today, Ms. Swan?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “If I’m going to call you Killian, then I have to insist on you calling me Emma.”

A delighted grin broke out on his face. “Very well, Emma. How may I help you today?”

Her face fell and tears gathered in her eyes. “My son was kidnapped last night.”

He didn’t know what he had expected her to say, but this was probably near the bottom of the list. About 90% of his business was investigating cheating spouses. He had noticed she wore no ring, but that didn’t mean much these days. He hadn’t dealt with a kidnapping case since his days in the Boston PD. His brow furrowed as he pulled a pad out of his desk.

“Have the police been contacted?”

“Yes, but our sheriff would be useless in this case,” she hedged, her eyes skittering away from his.

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

Her face flushed a pretty pink, but it only took a moment for him to realize it was in anger, not embarrassment. “The biggest reason is because he’s been trying to get in my pants since I moved to town five years ago. He’s a weasel and I wouldn’t trust him to walk a dog around the block, much less to find my son! There is no doubt in my mind that he would talk a big game trying to impress me or get me to date him, and then do nothing to find Henry. And the second reason is that even if that wasn’t the case and he wasn’t a giant ass, he has no experience whatsoever with kidnappings. We’re a small town and the overwhelming majority of the ‘crime’,” she put air quotes around the word, “there are kids playing pranks or helping to find pets that have run off.”

Killian felt sick. He knew his mouth hung open in pure, unadulterated shock. He had been acquainted with some of the lowlifes of humanity, but that there were men, on the right side of the law, that would use the kidnapping of a child to try and woo the child’s mother was a new low. If he ever had the opportunity to meet this contemptible bastard, he’d like nothing more than to punch him into next week.

“I see,” he murmured, trying to rein in his ire.

“I need someone who will actually find Henry. He’s all I have.”

He looked into her emerald eyes. “You have my word. I’ll do everything I can to bring your son home to you.”

Emma gazed into Killian’s blazing blue eyes and was comforted by the intensity and conviction she saw there. Her heart rate increased again as she tore her gaze from his before she got hopelessly lost in them. She knew that he would take her case and that they would find Henry.

“Tell me everything.”

~*~*~

An hour later, Emma emerged from Killian’s office. “I’ll drive up to Storybrooke first thing in the morning and meet you at your home by nine. I’ll text when I leave so you’ll have an idea of when to expect me.”

“Thank you so much, Killian. I’ll see you in the morning.” She dipped her face again as her cheeks flushed and she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

“Until tomorrow, love.” He turned to Ariel as Emma left the office. “Don’t look at me like that.”

She smirked, knowingly. “I didn’t say a word,” she protested.

“I’ll be out of the office for a few days. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

“Mmhmmm,” she murmured. “Yes, sir.”

~*~*~

Killian climbed into bed that night after drinking just enough rum to help him fall asleep easily without her sparkling green eyes taunting him all night. She was the most exquisite creature he’d ever seen and he knew that he was going to need some liquid sedative if he hoped to get a good night's sleep before driving up to Maine in the morning.

She intrigued him. Both her and her case. He’d asked all the standard questions in a kidnapping investigation- when and where he was last seen, could a non-custodial parent be responsible (he couldn’t stop the small smile when she informed him that Henry’s father didn’t even know he existed), had he been chatting with anyone online that she knew of (he may be a little young in his own humble opinion, but you never knew these days)- and while she’d been honest with him in answering his questions, he knew that she was holding something back.

He had a sixth sense, his nephews likened it to a superpower, where he could tell if someone was lying to him. And while she hadn’t exactly been lying, she was definitely leaving something out. Something that niggled at him. Hence the rum. Whatever she was hiding, he had a feeling he’d find out what it was in the morning when he got to Storybrooke.

With those thoughts, he fell asleep.

~*~*~

“Hello, Killian Jones.” The oily voice sounded giddily taunting and jerked Killian awake. The man before him was impeccably dressed and appeared to be utterly poised and confident as he stared at Killian with piercing dark eyes.  He sat, one ankle resting on the other knee, in the same chair that Emma had occupied that afternoon.

“Who are you? How did you get here?” He looked around his office. “How did I get here?” The last thing he remembered was getting into bed with thoughts of Emma Swan swirling through his mind.

“I think you know exactly who I am,” he nearly purred. Then he shrugged, “But if not, it won’t be long before you do.” He stared at him again, if possible his stare even harder than before. “I am here for one reason and one reason only.” Killian released a small gasp when flames appeared in the stranger’s eyes. “Stay away from this case. Stay away from Emma Swan. You are dealing with things that are so far beyond you and your understanding…”  the flames died down and he trailed away with a sneer. “Things that would drive you mad.”

Killian leaned back in his chair, his innate stubbornness and anger rising. Whoever this man, thing, was, it was gonna take much more than a magic trick in a dream to turn him away from finding Emma’s son.

“Listen,” he began, placing his hands behind his head in a show of casual indifference, “I don’t know who you are or where you come from. But I don’t make a habit of letting a bunch of hocus pocus mumbo jumbo scare me off of anything. Especially when it comes in a dream.” He smirked cockily at his unwanted guest. “And since this is a dream, I can pretty much say anything I want and get away with it.” He paused, thinking. “So I think I’ll say, from my heart, kiss my ass.”

The man’s sneer disappeared as he leaned forward. “I really don’t like your attitude.”

Killian shrugged. “I don’t care what you like.” His gaze hardened then at the man in front of him. “Now take your bag of tricks and get out of my office.”

“Very well. I see that your choice is made.” The man uncrossed his legs and rose from the chair. “But before I go,” he reached forward and grabbed Killian’s hand. He felt an ice cold sensation that nearly burnt in its intensity before he jerked it out of the man’s grasp. He looked down at his hand where the skin bore now a shimmering scale-like appearance. He looked up again at the man before him whose smirk had a reptilian quality that sent a shiver of dread down Killian’s spine. “Just a little something to,” he paused, “leave an impression.” He giggled and disappeared in a cloud of grey smoke.

Killian jerked awake in the darkness. He turned on the light at the side of his bed and stared down at his hand. The burning scar from the dream was still there. Killian’s heart thundered in his chest. How could something that had happened in a dream…? He couldn’t finish the thought. He knew he’d be getting no more sleep that night.

~*~*~

Emma startled when the bell rang announcing Killian Jones. She was expecting him, of course, but her lack of sleep the night before, even with a magical assist, ensured that she was still on edge enough that she was easily startled. Trying to will her heartbeat to slow down, she walked to the front door. When she opened it, she inhaled sharply and her eyes trailed down his body appreciatively and back up again. He wore jeans with a pullover that was pulled tightly across his chest. His scruff was neatly trimmed and his hair was slightly mussed as if he’d been running his hand through it. His eyes were still a piercing blue, but he had shadows underneath them like he hadn’t slept well the night before. She licked her lips self-consciously as her eyes met his.

“See something you like there, love,” he asked, smirking at her with a raised eyebrow.

She could feel the blush heating her cheeks as she looked away and held the door open for him.

“Good morning, Killian,” she greeted him. “Please come in.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, all flirtation gone.

“Regina is expecting us as soon as you have a chance to look around,” she said leading him into the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked with a small smile, “You look like you could use it.”

Killian coughed, surprised at her perceptiveness. After only spending an hour with her the day before, he wouldn’t have thought that she’d be able to look at him and tell that he’d had a rough night.

“That would be great, lass. Thank you.”

She poured him a large travel mug of the aromatic brew. He took a sip and nearly groaned in delight. The coffee he had drunk that morning to get himself moving had long since left his system and he was desperate for something, anything that would help banish the recollection of last night’s disturbing dream and help him concentrate on the case at hand.

“Regina, your friend who knows more about who may have taken Henry and why?” he asked following her out of the kitchen and toward the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

“Yes, that’s right,” Emma replied. At the top of the stairs, she turned to the door on her left and opened it for him.

He entered the room and looked around. Of course he didn’t miss the sizable blood stain on the carpet in front of Henry’s bed. His heart skipped a beat as he took in all the toys and books scattered around the room. No child should ever be taken, but seeing the domain of this particular little boy made a fierce protectiveness that he had never known for anyone, not even his nephews, rise in him. He was completely taken aback by the strength of the sentiment. It was natural that he’d want to find a child that had been kidnapped, but it was something else for thoughts and feelings of duty, guardianship, and even love toward this child he had never met to flood his heart and mind. He had to find this little boy.

Turning back toward the boy’s mother, he caught her intense scrutiny before her cheeks flushed and she looked away. Something told him that it wasn’t attraction he was seeing now, but rather something else. Perhaps some of what she had hidden from him yesterday? He couldn’t help the feeling of exposure that came over him, like she could see things about him that he’d rather keep to himself, making him scratch at that spot behind his ear in a nervous tic that he’d never been able to kick. He followed her back out of the room.

“Okay, let's go see Regina.”

She nodded and descended the stairs, very conscious of Killian’s presence behind her.

When he’d looked around Henry’s room, she had watched him carefully, cataloguing every reaction he had. Regina was absolutely certain about him, but she had experience that Emma herself didn’t have. She was much more concrete. She wanted something that she could see, not just trust in someone else. As much as she did trust that particular someone else.

She had watched him as his eyes darkened in alarm and then flashed with anger when they had landed on the blood stain on the carpet. Softening as they’d swept over Henry’s bookshelves, she’d seen a wave of affection, protectiveness, and sorrow come over him as he turned his eyes back on her. Feeling much more comfortable about him, she couldn’t help the small smile that had escaped her when he scratched behind his ear in a nervous tic.

“Okay, let’s go see Regina.”

~*~*~

A short time later, Regina ushered Emma and Killian into her living room. She knew that her frown could be off putting to people who didn’t know her well, so she struggled to keep her expression pleasant even though she could feel the magic of the Dark One hanging about him. That magic was only further confirmation of what she had found in her research the day before. She sighed internally and glanced at her new acquaintance, hoping that he’d be up to the challenge that she was about to lay on him.

“Mr. Jones,” Regina began.

“Please, call me Killian, milady,” he interrupted.

“Killian, then,” she repeated with a sharp nod. She settled down on the sofa opposite them and fixed him with a hard stare. She couldn’t figure out how Killian might have come in contact with her former teacher’s dark magic, but it was obvious to her that he had. She decided she was just going to have to be blunt and hope for the best.

“Tell me, Mr, ah, Killian,” she quickly corrected herself, shaking her head, “have you ever had any contact with magic?”

Killian visibly startled and Emma’s eyes widened in surprise at her bold question.

“Magic?” he asked, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline.

“Yes, magic,” she repeated, not backing down a bit.

Emma had been on the receiving end of that imperious and penetrating gaze before and she wasn’t surprised to see Killian’s apparent discomfort under that scrutiny. But before she could offer him any kind of reassurance, she watched this man as he suppressed his discomfort and fixed Regina with as hard a stare as she was leveling at him.

“Why are you asking me this? Magic doesn’t exist. And even if it did, you wouldn’t be asking me that without a very good reason. What exactly is going on here?” He turned to look at her. “I know that what you told me yesterday was the truth, but I also know that you didn’t tell me everything. If I’m going to be able to help you, you have to tell me everything, whether it seems relevant or not. No matter how insignificant it may appear to be. It’s been a long time since I’ve dealt with a kidnapping, but I know what I’m doing. This a partnership. I need you and ANY information you can give me just as much as you need me.”

Emma nodded and then looked over at their hostess. Regina seemed to deflate a bit.

“All of your questions will be answered, Mr,” she shook her head, “Killian. I’m sorry, I keep forgetting. I sense something.” Regina closed her eyes momentarily. “On you. I need you to answer my question before I can answer yours.”

Killian took a deep breath, his hackles lowering.

“Fine,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t call it magic, but I did have a very strange dream this morning…” He trailed away, remembering, albeit reluctantly. “A man visited me in my office and warned me to stay away from this case.” He turned to Emma, “To stay away from you, love.” He took her hand in his own. It was so warm and soft, he looked down and entwined their fingers before raising his eyes to hers again. “I told him he could fuck off. That nothing was going to stop me from finding your boy.”

She looked down at their hands, surprised that she hadn’t noticed that their fingers had intertwined. She looked back at him. His gaze was so intense, she couldn’t help the  shiver of awareness that shot down her spine. She tamped it down firmly. This was no time to give in to her attraction. Henry was first.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “That means a lot.”

Regina shook her head across from them. “But what about the magic? That’s not all that was in the dream, is it?” she queried. “There’s something more.”

Killian’s eyes skittered towards Regina and widened slightly.

“Yes,” he agreed. “But, it wasn’t magic...” he trailed away.

“Listen, Killian,” she interjected. “I am a seer. I can see the dark magic on you. And I know it’s not yours. Yours is light. And powerful. But, you have come into contact with some very powerful dark magic that I recognize. I need to know how. This dream wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

Killian’s head was spinning with everything she had just said. “Wait a minute,” he began, “What are you… what do you…” he was trying not to hyperventilate. “My magic? I don’t have magic.”

Regina could see that she had effectively torpedoed this meeting and she was desperate to get them back on track. She cursed at herself under her breath for her lack of tact and impatience and tried to salvage what she could.

“Mr. Jones, ah, Killian, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” He waved aside her sentiment assuring her forgiveness wasn’t necessary. “When I’m stressed, I tend to become a bit of a bitch, forgetting my manners. Emma and Henry are like family to me.” She turned a soft smile on Emma. “This entire situation has frightened me just about as much as his mother. Especially since I have a pretty good idea of what exactly is going on. Please trust me for just a moment. Forget what I just said. All your questions will be answered. I swear to you. Just as you said that there was nothing that should be left out, no matter how seemingly insignificant it was, the same goes here. Tell me,” she pleaded, “It is of the utmost importance.”

Killian scratched behind his ear again, clearly reluctant to share. “After I told him to get out, he took my hand.” He paused and held up his left hand. The skin on the back of his hand was pure white and scaly looking. Emma gasped in horror as she took that hand in her own.

“He did this?” she whispered.

“Aye.”

“Let me see,” Regina demanded, reaching across the coffee table between them.

Killian reached across to her as she exchanged an anxious look with Emma. She stared back down at his hand as he continued speaking. “He said he wanted to leave an impression.”

Regina released him and fell back to the sofa. “The man who visited you is my former teacher. He is known as the Dark One.”

Killian’s brows furrowed. “The Dark One?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “He was my first and only teacher of magic. A very powerful practitioner of dark magic. After I’d been under his tutelage for some time, he caught me with a very old, dusty,” she wrinkled her nose at the memory, “spell book.” She turned to Emma, “This is what I needed to research yesterday. When I saw Killian in the vision,” she smiled widely, pleased that she remembered to call him Killian, “the memory tickled, but I didn’t try to nail it down right then, in favor of noticing as many details in the vision as I could.” She turned her attention back to Killian. “The oracle that he caught me reading told of the Chosen One, a powerful wizard from the Land Without Magic, the Protector of the Heart of the Truest Believer. When he found me reading it, he flew into a rage the likes of which I’d never seen. It was more than enough reason to get away from him and continue my study and practice on my own.” She nearly pierced Killian to the soul with her penetrating gaze. “You, Killian, are the Chosen One.”

Emma’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “The Chosen One is the Protector of the Heart of the Truest Believer? Henry’s heart?”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Killian waved his hand at them, drawing both their attention. “You’re saying I’m some sort of Chosen One? Why? What makes you say that? Who or what chose me?!”

Regina waved her hand, dismissively. “I don’t worry about that kind of thing so much. Call it what you will. Providence, luck, God. All I know is, that when I touched Henry’s scarf yesterday in order to track him, I had a vision of you. You were coming into your office. You wore a black suit, white shirt, and a red tie with silver anchors on it.”

Killian was momentarily stunned silent. “That’s what you meant by seer.” Regina smirked at him. “What exactly is a seer?”

“There are different types. I have visions and can see magic. I can see not only the Dark One’s magic stream from where he touched you,” she reached across the coffee table again and took his hand in her own, “but I can see your magic.”

Killian raised an eyebrow at her. “My magic.”

Regina nodded slowly. “Yes, your magic.”

Killian withdrew his hand and leaned back against the sofa blowing out a long breath. “I was not aware that I had magic.”

“It’s latent, for sure. But it is definitely there. I could feel it in the vision I had. Now, since you’ve never been trained in its use, it will only manifest under extremely emotional circumstances.”

Emma finally spoke. “Remind me to tell you about the time my magic manifested for the first time. That’s a story for another time.” Killian raised an eyebrow at her, questioning. “Yes, I have magic, too. So does Henry.  This town is full of it and it’s here that Henry and I were drawn to when he was a baby. It’s here that Regina began training me in the use of my magic once it appeared, and Henry as well when his magic awoke a little over a year ago.” She looked over to Regina who nodded at her encouragingly. Emma closed her eyes and let her magic flow through her, holding her hand out so that Killian could see the white magic on her palm. “When I discovered that Henry was missing, I came straight to Regina, teleported into her bedroom before she was even awake. When Regina came to the house, she was able to see the magic used and what exactly happened to Henry. He has the Heart of the Truest Believer and the Dark One wants it.”

“You are connected to Henry in a way I don’t fully understand,” Regina added, “Henry being who he is, tells me who you are.”

Killian’s mind was spinning. He didn’t know what to do with all the information that was being thrown at him. He realized then that his superpower wasn’t going off. At all. Everything Regina and Emma were saying was the absolute truth. He considered himself a pretty laid back and open minded man, but what they were saying and showing him was so far out of his wheelhouse that, while he believed them, he was having a hell of a time assimilating it all. It brought back what the man, the Dark One, had said in his dream last night.  You are dealing with things that are so far beyond you and your understanding… Things that would drive you mad.

“And I am the Chosen One. The Protector of the Heart of the Truest Believer. And that’s Henry.” Regina and Emma both nodded.

A bone deep certainty settled over Killian like a cloak. That was why when he entered Henry’s room earlier he had felt so much for the little guy. Why he had felt so protective of him and angry that someone would dare to take him from his very bed. This monster, this Dark One, wanted to kill a child in order to obtain his heart for whatever nefarious purpose. Second, he had the audacity to come to him and try to get him to step away from the case. Fury rose in him. He rose from the sofa.

“How dare he,” he seethed.

Emma caught her breath. Killian’s blue eyes flashed, his cheeks and the tips of his ears were bright red, his teeth were clenched and his hands curled into fists. The man was absolutely magnificent in his rage. Her own heart rate sped up. She had never felt like this about anyone before. It went beyond simple attraction. His connection to Henry, meant that he was connected to her as well. Exploring that connection would have to wait, though. Not until Henry was safe. As these thoughts came to the front of her mind, she realized something. She had been so worried about her son that it didn’t even occur to her to be angry at the demon who had taken him, so as she looked at Killian, her own wrath came to the surface.

“We have to destroy him.” She turned furious eyes on her teacher. “What do we do? How do we do it? He was your teacher. You’ve protected us against him. Surely you know how to destroy him! And where is he keeping Henry?”

He couldn’t imagine being in her shoes, although the emotions that came over him in Henry’s room were at least similar in scope and intensity to what he imagined she was feeling. As he watched her now, he saw not just a beautiful woman, good friend, and loving mother, he saw an avenging goddess and he couldn’t help the proud smile that stole over his face as he thought of Emma taking on the Dark One.

“I haven’t made it that far yet, Emma. There is more information that Killian needs before you go off half-cocked,” Regina said. “Please sit down,” she invited.

Killian sank down onto the sofa again. “I’ve told you everything that I can remember about that dream, now it’s your turn.”

Regina nodded and began. Killian took out his pad and made notes of everything that Regina said, with a few interjections by Emma. After she had filled him in on the rest of her own history with the Dark One and the circumstances of Henry’s kidnapping, Regina paused.

“What?” Killian asked. “Whatever you have to say now can’t possibly be any more unbelievable than what you’ve already told me.”

“You have to obtain his dagger. It is the only thing that can destroy him. Since he marked you with his magic, Killian, I can trace it to find exactly where it is.”

Regina looked at Emma. “He will need his dagger in order to harm Henry, once my protection spell wears off in the next few days. So there is no time to lose. You must get the dagger and bring it here. We must keep him away from it at all costs.”

Emma and Killian turned to one another with wide eyes. “Then where is it?” Emma asked. “How do we get it?”

Regina reached across the coffee table and motioned to Killian to give her his hand again. When he did, she closed her eyes, her other hand hovering over the white skin. After about twenty seconds of tense silence, Regina began to speak.

“There is an underground chamber at Stonehenge, one of the few magical places on this earth,” she murmured. “You’ll have to go underground at Salisbury Cathedral to get there. It is built over the ancient civilization of Sarum, the people who built Stonehenge. Go down to the crypt and there is a passageway leading to Stonehenge.” Regina released Killian’s hand and held her’s out in front of her, her palm facing them. Killian looked at Emma who stared at her, transfixed. “Killian, you are the one who must get the dagger. You must follow all the directions that you are given.” Her eyes snapped open, pupils and irises gone, her eyes pure white as her voice rose in a reverberating crescendo as loud as thunder. “YOU MUST FOLLOW ALL THE DIRECTIONS YOU ARE GIVEN OR HENRY WILL BE LOST.”

Killian swallowed thickly as Regina’s eyes closed again and then opened, perfectly normal. He stared at her, mouth agape. “Follow all the directions I am given.” He nodded sharply. “Got it.”

He turned to Emma. “Well, it looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us, love. Looks like we’re heading to Stonehenge.”

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing. I’d love to know what you think! Our conclusion will be up a week from today!

[comfeyworks]

Alastor writing/ Character ref sheet

NOTE: This is MY interpretation/ notes of my characterization of Alastor. Most is speculation and the other parts are just me having fun imagining what his character could be like. This is no way meant to be official or taken as cannon in any way.

A wonderful user by the name of dolly moon complied a lot of information from Viv’s streams. I’m referencing some of the information here so please check them out, they did a fantastic job making notes.

Warning: Contains talk about murder, cannibalism and other possible triggering subjects.

General

---NAME: Alastor--- Died: 1933 Age: 30′s Occupation: Former radio host and serial killer. Currently powerful overlord in hell

Main Personality/ notes

Always smiling (He sees people frowning as weak)

Sadistic

Charming and charismatic

Very proud( puffed out chest, arms behind back)

He's controlling/ does things his own way

Careful! He's not too braggy, or too forceful/ demanding. Ex: Viv stated in her qna that the pilot was originally going to have Alastor boast about himself and his backstory. Instead vaggie narrates his backstory. She changed this because Alastor wasn’t the type of person to flaunt his achievements. He knows that everyone knows how powerful he is, he’s not the type to rub it in. He's supposed to be charming, but still proud, juuuust in the right way

He knows what he wants, but doesn’t necessarily brute-forces his way to get it. Ex: "He-" "-llo!" He KNOWS he's getting in hotel regardless, but waits for Charlie to open up the door before invading the hallway.

Deceitful; When asked why he wants to help out at the hotel, he says: "Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself!" 'This is what you can think my reason is...' is essentially what he's saying. He answers Charlie’s question in a roundabout way that givers her what she wants to know while still keeping his true intentions secret. Time and time again, he lets his mask down slightly when Charlie isn’t looking. At 24:10 he narrows his eyes when she has her back turned to him At the beginning of his song he distracts her with magic so he can push Vaggie away. When he says “...And it’s just laughable-” during he reprise he turns away from Charlie to say this, he leans down to Vaggie.

He’s a hypocrite (hates being touched, invades other’s personal space)

Watches people do things the hard way and then reveal he can do it once it's done just to watch people fuck up

DELIGHTS in watching people failing/ struggling to do things. He likes observing people/ sinners as they are battling with their conflicted emotions.

He’s curious (He stopped by the ‘radio shack’ place to see what Charlie was talking about on the broadcast, and cocked his head when she started singing. To me that meant, “Oh? What’s this now? Something new?” he was intrigued and wanted to know more)

He analyzes people. He looks at the Magne family portrait when left alone. You can briefly hear him playing Charlie’s “Inside of every demon is a rainbow” song, and smiling.

He picks up on things quickly. Vaggie makes it clear she doesn’t like the idea of him being there, and he messes with her. He puts his elbow on her and pushes her away ( 20:44-20:48) He pulls her chin up and tells her to ‘smile’

He’s egotistical. No one is really ‘up to his level’

He gives verbal and physical affection constantly throughout the pilot, but it’s not genuine.

Likes being unpredictable

Primary drive:   Decisions are weighed in his own wants/ feelings. He wants to be amused, he chases exciting/ entertaining things. Think of him as like a cat chasing a mouse.

Fears: He doesn’t fear anyone. But is wary of powerful threats. He dislikes dogs Physical Expression: He’s VERY, VERY expressive through his body language and eyes. Large/ easy to read emotions can be perceived through his body language (Leaning towards someone, or leaning away). Smaller/ pinpoint emotions can be read through his eyes and type of smile (Wide eyes, squinted, closed vs open smile, etc.) He’s like a bird, fluffing out his feathers constantly. (He fixes his hair briefly at 24:41) He expresses himself proudly. ‘This is who I am, remember that!!’. Viv said the reason why almost all of characters have nicknames is that a soul’s real name is dangerous, its a way others can have power over you. Yet Alastor uses his first name, because he’s not scared and confident in who he is as a person. He doesn’t hide from any aspect of himself. I’ve stated he hates being touched by others. When he picks up Nifty in the pilot, she poofs out and spreads her limbs out. At 25:41, Alastor turns his head away from her briefly so she doesn’t touch him.

Flaws/ Weaknesses:

(Note: Basically anything already stated can be a problem depending on the situation, I’m just saying things about his character that he’d find weak or naturally cause problems)

His mother, he’d do anything for her.

He has a darker/ more powerful demon side to him where he runs purely on instinct/ primitive emotions.

He’s arrogant. This can cause problems!

---

Killer/ moral compass profile (Living)

Motivations:

Thrill Killer- Pleasure from pain

Slight power/control aspect involved as well.

‘Causes’

Childhood trauma (abusive father)

Environmental factors (mother died when he was 18-20)

Type of killer: *Note: I’m still not 100% satisfied with this part, I might make some changes later*

He won’t just kill anyone. They have to meet a certain list of requirements.

Viv compared him as someone similar to Dexter

He’s a very goal oriented killer. Whatever he did it was with reason and purpose, meticulously planned. Ex: Maybe one year he’d kill someone who was a real jerk, to see how the others around him flourished. Likewise he might kill someone who was important to the community just to see how the grief made everyone react.

He was a very careful killer, he ended up dying purely on accident, bad luck.

He killed for the fun of it, pure joy, excitement, curiosity. But he only killed people he thought deserved it.

He considers what he does to be ‘work’. He expresses in the pilot how after decades in hell it’s become ‘mundane’ and ‘aimless’.

The victims had to be overconfident to some degree.(This ties into the ‘he wouldn’t chase his victims.’ They had to be somewhat full of themselves or naive)

Some kills are personal (Someone wronging him, trying to hurt him, otherwise he just wouldn’t care if some guy is an asshole) but others are just because he feels like they’re bad/ they’ve have done something that they need to die for.

He used ‘personal’ ways of killing people. (Knife, his hands). I don’t think he would have used a gun of any kind because of the noise, but he could have once every blue moon.

Generally doesn’t draw things out for too long ”...If I wanted to hurt anyone here... I would have done so already.” (He defeats Sir Pentious in under a minute. But still takes the time to crush him and drag his body across the floor.)

He ate people, and knew how to make delicious meals out of them.

Buried his victim’s bodies/ remains on a hunting ground for deer.

Morals

No human is pure or kind just because. They’re selfish beings. Who take and act to help their own causes. Everyone is a monster on the inside. “...redemption, the nonexistent humanity!”

Everyone puts on a mask to hide who they truly are. Life is one big game to see who can survive. “...the world is a stage! And the stage, is a world of entertainment!”

People don’t change “...there is no undoing what is done.”

Puts himself first, and above everyone else. He also degrades others. “I don’t think there’s any hope left for such loathsome sinners...” ”Inside of every demon is a lost cause, but we’ll dress them up for now with just a smile!” “...and show these simpletons some proper class and style...” “...do I know you?” “You think I’m [husk] some kind of fuckin’ clown!?” “...maybe!”

People deserve the consequences they get for being themselves “...the chance given was the life they lived before, the punishment is this!”

He understands what society views as good and evil, but doesn’t really believe in those standards himself. What is considered evil he just views as a hobby or something fun to explore. Ex: Cannibalism is wrong by society’s standards, but to him he thinks the greater wrong is killing something and not making use of it.

He has some level of empathy. (Again, He’d never kill a child or those running away.)

People’s emotions are a fun little game to him. “...I want to watch the scum of the earth struggle to climb up the hill of betterment! Only to repeatedly trip, and tumble down into the firey pit of failure!”

Doesn’t see value in being nice or honest. (He does find it funny to watch)

Other notes/ hc

He’s knowledgeable. In more ways than one. He knows not to fuck with certain people if he doesn’t want to get hurt, he’s got knowledge on the workings/ operations of hell and deal-making.

Likes to cook

He likes bitter things (Bloody meat, alcohol, black coffee)

He’s got a party side to him.

He speaks french!

He plays musical instruments

He knows how to fight without his powers

He’s an only child

He’s part creole

He hates silence, he always surrounds himself with noise of some kind.

Husk and Alastor have a long, complicated relationship

He does things to make Nifty happy (Wearing sweaters)

He’d go out into a hurricane just to let it beat him down for fun (Why is this so funny to me)

Despite all he is, Alastor is capable of having friends and loving.

Has absolutely NO romantic experience.

He hates modern technology in general, but hates tik tok the most

The idea of Alastor cross-dressing to lure his victims in is absolutely hilarious to me, but I don’t think he’d ever do it.

[hockeysweetheart]

 This is just a theory I have 

Haymitch’s Games 50th  48 tributes in the arena  Haymitch went to the conucopia got weapons because the other Tributes were distracted by the beauty of the arena. 

Before this point.  tho It wasn’t known when the whole Districts interacting  was banned but I guess after Haymitch’s games. Unless you are a victor.  Katniss is the one who remembers it forbidden to go to other Districts .That was my best guess in effect After Haymitch’s Games when the stunt he pulled was a form of an act of rebelling. And also made the Capitol look bad which is one thing they are like oh hell no about. 

Haymitch on his victory Tour.  This was months after the death of his family and girl.. But they kept Haymitch alive because they have to have a victor right would be even a more slap in the face if they Killed Haymitch too. Haymitch knew about the room with no Cameras in District 11 right.  For Katniss and Peeta victory tour Katniss made note of this... So How did Haymitch know about that in 11. Because the buildings are all different.  Because pehaps his Mentor needed a come to Jesus moment up there with Haymitch on his tour. or just to talk without cameras around. or Haymitch said something that caused a talk into that dorm.

Another thing In Haymitch’s time tho he did meet the Victors on the tour Unlike Katniss and Peeta. Because Katniss noted on the Victor tours this has happened. 

In District 12 the 50th Games are not talked about like at all we all know why is because the Capitol doesn’t want to show that they were the laugh of Panem because of Haymitch’s actions Also using a weapon that wasn’t suppose to be huge no no..

So Now Up until Haymitch he was the only victor to mentor for District 12 from the District... And the Mentor program was invented for the 10th Games with Lucy Grey winning but  if you read the book you know what happened she wouldn’t dare become the mentor which it was assumed in the past the other victor Katniss knew of but didn’t know the name was Haymitch’s mentor now with The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes we know that didn’t happen. No Lucy Grey was not Haymitch’s mentor. So who mentored the tributes from 12 for the next 40 Years bet it changed around a bit Might of at first been some poor soul from the Capitol.

Now this is who I think possible could of been Haymitch’s mentor  Chaff from District 11 he won the 45th Games. so he would of been in his 20s around Haymitch’s. They are friends Katniss noted this a few times.  I have a list of reasons why It’s possible it could of been Chaff.

. Peeta killed Brutus because he Killed Chaff. Now Peeta is not one to really kill in the games. Peeta did rewatch the Victors games and wrote notes about it. It is stupid easy to edit things out like When Katniss and Peeta watched Haymitch’s it is easy to not add mentors to it. So maybe it is possible between watching Haymitch’s and Chaff’s he put two and two together. The bond of mentors is deeper then friendships.  Peeta did want him as an ally but wasn’t 100% sold on it.  Now Peeta really wasn’t to be the one to defend him unless a stronger reason. Like he was not to blame, Not his district partner not apart of his alliance. Or someone close to him. Sure he was from 11 but that only goes so far... Even if a friend to Haymitch.. But if a mentor to someone then it’s like you instant feel guilt for not doing something about.  In all Peeta should of been okay that Brutus took out Chaff so he didn’t have to... Now I know in the moment it was  because Peeta saw it and was like on a mission to find Katniss. and he was like well we all have to die to save Katniss.. But I have many questions to how Peeta pulled off killing Brutus.

Chaff is from 11 so he would possible know about the building and cameras and such.. That this room never has cameras in it. Ditch the mic and we can talk in here. 

 Also Haymitch said I’d choose Distirct 11 ( Chaff) for Allies to Katniss Peeta when he told them they needed Allies this round. Kartniss didn’t want him Mainly because he surprised kissed her when the victors where playing with Katniss being so pure. And she wasn’t sold on him after she met him..  

.My second one is Beetee  who also won The hunger Games before Haymitch. For one he would be able to tell Haymitch about force fields and would be the type to say well the arena has to end somewhere right.  Also he would know where cameras are in a building or not so possible he could of brought him to the room in 11 away from cameras and being heard. But  the books and movies don’t show anything that shows the Mentor Victor Bond so It is possible but unlikely. also he was totally on board when Katniss told  Haymitch he wanted Beetee as an ally 

Below  is some  parts from the book 

"Both of you. With me," says Haymitch. Peeta and I follow him, leaving the others behind. The Peacekeepers who are stationed around the Justice Building take little interest in our movements now that we are safely inside. We ascend a magnificent curved marble staircase. At the top, there's a long hall with worn carpet on the floor. Double doors stand open, welcoming us into the first room we encounter. The ceiling must be twenty feet high. Designs of fruit and flowers are carved into the molding and small, fat children with wings look down at us from every angle. Vases of blossoms give off a cloying scent that makes my eyes itch. Our evening clothes hang on racks against the wall. This room has been prepared for our use, but we're barely there long enough to drop off our gifts. Then Haymitch yanks the microphones from our chests, stuffs them beneath a couch cushion, and waves us on. As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staircases and increasingly narrow halls. At times he has to stop and force a door. By the protesting squeak of the hinges you can tell it's been a long time since it was opened. Eventually we climb a ladder to a trapdoor. When Haymitch pushes it aside, we find ourselves in the dome of the Justice Building. It's a huge place filled with broken furniture, piles of books and ledgers, and rusty weapons. The coat of dust blanketing everything is so thick it's clear it hasn't been disturbed for years. Light struggles to filter in through four grimy square windows set in the sides of the dome. Haymitch kicks the trapdoor shut and turns on us. "What happened?" he asks.

Chaff, a man from 11 who I know to be one of Haymitch's particular friends, is also in.

I know Chaff by sight because I've spent years watching him pass a bottle back and forth with Haymitch on television. He's dark skinned, about six feet tall, and one of his arms ends in a stump because he lost his hand in the Games he won thirty years ago. I'm sure they offered him some artificial replacement, like they did Peeta when they had to amputate his lower leg, but I guess he didn't take it.