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klaineficroulettechallenge-us · 2 years ago

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Chapter 8 By Honeysucklepink

Read on AO3 [Chapter 8]

Saturday, March 31, the day after Rachel’s Party

“God, it’s about time, Hamhock. I’ve been waiting here forever!” Sebastian was frustrated. He had shown up at The Lima Bean at the assigned time, but if he had known that the Fairy Princess and his friend Aretha Franklin were going to be there, he would have arrived sooner and gotten a table near them to eavesdrop. Instead, they were just leaving when he pulled into the parking lot. When Dave finally arrived, Sebastian’s coffee was already getting cold. Not that it was even good coffee, nothing like what he got in Parisian cafes.

“Relax, Sebastian, it’s been 15 minutes,” Dave said, taking off his jacket and putting it on the chair. “I had to help my dad with some stuff around the house. Wait here. I’m going to get something to drink.”

“Not going anywhere.” Sebastian rolled his eyes but waited, sipping his coffee and wincing. It tasted burnt, but it was still caffeine.

Dave returned with something that looked more like dessert than coffee. “What’s got you so wound up?”

“Nothing. You just missed Bravo’s least favorite Real Housewives side characters leaving.”

“Huh?”

“Ugh. You know, Kurt and that black girl friend of his…”

“Mercedes?”

“Yeah. Whatever. I’ll bet she’s totally in on selling Kurt and Blaine’s fake relationship. We could have spied on them and overheard them plotting.”

“Or they could have overheard us ,” Dave said. “I mean, don’t the two of us look a little suspicious being together?”

“I hate to hand it to you, but you have a point,” Sebastian said. “Okay. Next time, we pick a less conspicuous place.”

“Why do you need to spy on them anyway? Aren’t you getting enough information from their phones? Don’t tell me I broke into Kurt’s locker and copied his SIM card for nothing.”

Sebastian pulled out the burner phone he had been using to monitor Kurt and Blaine’s texts to each other. “You might as well have,” he said, tossing it on the table in between them. “I’ve been reading these for weeks, and I want to die from the boredom. There’s one whole night where they just send each other cheesy pick-up lines. Honestly, they’re barely PG-13. Not even one dick pic I can use for blackmail. Blaine must be dying of sexual frustration.”

“Or sex isn’t as important to him as it is to you.”

“Any guy who says that is lying. Based on these, I certainly don’t think they’re really dating, but it’s not enough. I need more proof. Which is where you come in. Anything from the party the other night?”

“I mean, not really?” Dave shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know if we should be doing this anymore.”

“What? You can’t back out now; we’re so close to catching them in the lie!”

“You didn’t see Kurt the other night,” Dave said. He looked around nervously then leaned in. “At Rachel’s party, Santana decided to start a game of spin the bottle. Frankly, she didn’t give anyone a choice. Anyway, when it was Kurt’s turn to spin…it landed on me.”

“You dog!” Sebastian howled. “What’d you do, put a weight in the bottle or something? And how does he kiss? I bet like some little girl kissing her pony.”

“No. It wasn’t like that. We didn’t kiss at all. In fact, he ran off.” Dave sighed. “I really thought he’d forgiven me for all of it. Maybe he did, but he sure as hell didn’t forget.”

“Forget what?”

“When, um…when I was trying to sort my shit out last year, I took a lot of it… No. I took all of it out on Kurt. I stalked him, threatened him, intimidated him…right up until he stopped being scared of me. One day, I did my daily locker-check on him. You know, putting him in his place in the high school hierarchy. Except this time, he didn’t back down. He didn’t cower like usual. Instead, he chased me down the hallway and followed me into the locker room. He got all up in my face, just screaming at me, like he just…snapped. Telling me I was worthless, I was scared, I was ordinary. And…that’s when I grabbed his face, and I kissed him.”

Fuck. Sebastian wasn’t expecting that. He knew Dave had bullied Kurt, but this was something else. “And what happened next?”

“He pulled away, had this look on his face, like pure…terror. And I think I maybe went back in to kiss him again, like maybe he’d understand that it wasn’t just spontaneous, like I meant it, but he just shoved me again, hard . And that’s when I realized, Fuck. I just outed myself , and I freaked out and ran.”

Sebastian was stunned. He knew Dave was obsessed, but that was a little far. “Dude, you know I’m a grade-A manwhore, and I freely own that shit. But even I get consent first.”

“I know, and I regret it. I really do. I would never pull that kind of thing again with anyone. You know I found out later it had been the first time a guy ever kissed him? I mean, he’d kissed Brittany, but I guess when you’re a gay dude, that doesn’t really count. Well, that and everyone at McKinley has kissed Brittany; even I’ve done that.”

“And now I’m finding out Hummel’s not even a gold-star gay. Shit, today is full of surprises.”

“I don’t know what I’ve been thinking. You should have seen Kurt’s face last night. Like, the idea of kissing me freaked him out so much, it practically disgusted him. He had to run away, the thought of it was so awful. There’s no getting him to date me after that.”

“Wait a minute,” Sebastian said, realizing something but also needing to interrupt Dave’s descent into further self-loathing. “You said Kurt spun the bottle. So, he had to have kissed someone else before he landed on you. Who did he kiss?”

“Blaine. You know, now that I think about it, it was hardly a kiss.”

“How so?”

“I mean, when Blaine showed up with all his prep school buddies, they did this whole sexy, bad boy performance, and it ended with him landing a big kiss on Kurt, like a really intense thing with tongue and stuff. But then it got weird. I think Kurt was avoiding Blaine, but then they both disappeared somewhere, and then during the game, Kurt just gave him a peck. Like the kind I’d give my grandma.”

“Interesting.” Seb pondered. “Could be that Lady Face isn’t big on PDA and was pissed at Blaine. But I’ll bet it’s more like they couldn’t keep up the act all night. So, that means I still have a chance.”

—*—

Monday, April 2

When Kurt got back to school Monday morning, he was a little apprehensive. He had meant to catch up with Blaine in person over the weekend, but apparently, “ Something came up. Family emergency, ” and they texted back and forth all weekend instead. He did find out that what had happened between Nick and Jeff at Rachel’s party had been a huge misunderstanding fueled by Puck’s evil concoction. Rachel had left out of her drunken ramble late Friday night that the bottle game went another couple of rounds and that Brittany had taken over from Dave, landed on Nick, and made out with him a little longer than to Jeff’s liking. Blaine was happy to say that after a little mediation, Nick and Jeff had reconciled.

Kurt, in turn, had let Blaine know that Mercedes was now in on the ruse and that she wasn’t mad anymore (he didn’t say that Mercedes had offered to play Cupid or that he was happy to let her). So, it seemed that the plan was back on track… Operation Fake Date was still a go, complete with a dual Prom King run. But it still didn’t explain why he hadn’t seen Blaine all weekend or this morning.

It was close to lunchtime by the time Kurt was back at his locker when he sensed Blaine approaching. He turned to see Blaine back in his usual look: gelled hair, a gray striped cardigan, and a snappy bow tie. His jeans were dark and cuffed, not a single rip or tear to be seen. Blaine did a little spin and held out his hands as if on display. “Better?”

“Much. I appreciate the bad boy look as much as anyone, but let’s leave that to Puckerman. I’m happy to see the old ‘Sandy Olsen’ back that I know and love.” Kurt motioned to Blaine’s outfit, and it was then he realized that Blaine’s smile wasn’t reaching his eyes. “Oh, no. What’s wrong? Does this have anything to do with the family emergency you hinted at?”

“Maybe? Yes, actually. It’s just… My brother is back in town. Actually, he’s insisting on coming here and taking me to lunch.”

“Ah, the elusive older brother that I have yet to meet. Does he know you’re ‘dating’ someone?”

“That would require him paying attention to someone who is not himself, so highly unlikely.”

“Blainey!” Kurt and Blaine both turned to the voice that called out down the hall. Kurt’s jaw dropped… Walking towards them was the tall and devastatingly handsome star of the freecreditratingtoday.com/savings commercials! He loved those ads and even had the jingle as his ringtone. He glanced over at Blaine, who looked almost…embarrassed? Why, when they were being approached by the most handsome man in North America (next to Blaine, of course)?

“Cooper,” Blaine said as he accepted a hug from the man. “You didn’t have to come inside the school. I was going to meet you in the parking lot.”

“And miss the opportunity to schmooze with my fans, Squirt? Never. No, that Coach Sue gave me a full hall pass, after signing her breast, of course. Fascinating woman. And who’s this? This the boyfriend that Mom was gushing about?” He held his hand out for Kurt to shake, which he took enthusiastically.

“My boyfriend, yes. Of course, Mom told you.” And Kurt remembered, Oh, right. Gotta keep up the boyfriend thing. “Kurt, this is my brother, Cooper Anderson. Coop, meet Kurt Hummel.”

“He’s your brother? Why didn’t you tell me before?” Kurt shook Cooper’s hand enthusiastically. “I love your commercials!” He could swear he almost heard Blaine murmur, “That’s why ,” but he was still a bit starstruck.

“Guilty as charged on both counts,” Cooper said, his smile dazzling and oozing with charm. Must run in the family , Kurt guessed. “So, how long have you and my little brother been dating?”

“Cooper, stop,” Blaine groused. Kurt supposed he didn’t count on having to lie to his brother as well.

Kurt jumped to the rescue. “Not too long. Shortly before Valentine’s. But we’ve been friends for so long, we just sort of fell naturally into it.” He recounted their entire friendship-to-”relationship” story as he and Blaine had created it, told him about the New Directions, and mentioned that many of them were planning to attend performing arts colleges after graduation.

“Oh, no. Bad idea,” Cooper said. “No, you don’t want to waste time going to school when you could be auditioning and getting into the industry right now! Learning on your feet and all of that, right, Blainey?”

“I wish you would stop calling me that.”

Cooper snapped his fingers. “I got it! Why don’t I come by your Glee class this week, do a couple of free lessons? I’m sure your teacher won’t mind, especially since I’m giving his students the rare opportunity to learn from a professional. The Cooper Anderson Method, exclusively for you guys!”

“I’m sure Mr. Schuester won’t mind at all. I’ll ask him today!”

“Great! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get this squirt to lunch and back in time for, what, history? Calculus? Some other class that has nothing to do with acting?” He playfully nudged Blaine’s head, causing Blaine to smooth down his hair.

“Spanish, actually.”

“Ah, sí! ¡Eso será útil para las telenovelas! Great meeting you, Kurt.”

Blaine waved and mumbled, “Bye,” then turned and walked with Cooper.

As Kurt watched them both walk away, he couldn’t help noticing they both had very attractive butts. That ran in the family, too? Kurt was still hoping that this thing with Blaine would become real someday, but heck. He may be older, but depending how Cooper swung…

Just… Blaine’s brother was absolutely amazing.

—*—

Thursday, April 5

Blaine’s brother was absolutely infuriating.

When Cooper had called from the airport on Saturday with a “Surprise!” and an apology for missing their grandmother’s birthday (“I was auditioning for a super secret project, and the director’s name just might rhyme with Bichael May ”), Blaine could have forgiven him, even though it meant missing spending the rest of the weekend with Kurt. But showing up at his school, flirting with everyone (but especially Kurt), and everyone making googly-eyes at Cooper (but especially Kurt) was making him ill. It just reminded him that Cooper was the special one, and Blaine was just… Blaine.

After they had lunch that day (where Cooper humiliated him by testing out his awful accents on the poor Breadstix waitress), Kurt told him that Mr. Schue had okayed Cooper coming to class that week as a way to dissuade the seniors from doing Skip Day. Now, Blaine had to sit in the choir room while Cooper gave acting lessons. Worse, he watched as all of his classmates gobbled up all of his bad guidance with a spoon. Pointing, speaking loudly, ignoring your scene partner? This was terrible advice. And Kurt was writing notes, lapping it up voraciously. Blaine had thought there were hints of Kurt reciprocating his feelings, especially at Rachel’s party. Heck, he was pretty sure they were going to kiss again until Mercedes showed up. But now? All he could remember was Kurt begging him to do the Duran Duran medley with Cooper on Tuesday. Hearing “You’re both so handsome and good!” should have made him feel better. But it didn’t. Actually, for a split second, he wondered if Kurt didn’t want them both (to which he shivered an “Ew!” to himself).

He probably could have held in his outburst during their practice run of an NCIS scene, but when Cooper looked at him with a straight face and said, “A man in a dress is dead,” he couldn’t take it anymore.

“God, Cooper, why do you have to be like this?!?!” he yelled.

“There you go, Squirt! Now, point while you’re yelling!”

Ugh, he really didn’t get it. “I’m not acting, Coop. This is actually me actually yelling at you!” Now, the rest of the Glee Club was focused on them, awkwardly standing by. Even Tina was frozen on the floor, unsure if she should sit up or keep playing dead. “Ever since we were kids, you’ve had to turn everything into a competition, and I was never good enough. It was always, ‘You need to watch your rhythm, Blaine,’ ‘Try to keep up, Blaine,’ ‘Blaine, you need to focus.’ Never once did I get support!”

Cooper looked like he’d been hit with a brick. “Blaine, of course, I support you. I just wanted you to reach your potential.”

“Then tell me when I’m doing well! It’s always about what I’m not doing right! And then, I have to watch you waltz into my school, watch everyone fall all over themselves because you’re so charming, watch Kurt practically salivate over you. God you even cast your spell over my own boyfriend…” Well, now he was exposing himself… So what if it was the truth? It was what he and Kurt were convincing everyone of, right? “I’m done with this, Cooper, done with you .” And at that, he stormed off.

Blaine went to the locker room first to take out his frustrations on the punching bag. He threw as many punches that he could, throttling the bag until his shoulders and hands ached. He hit the shower afterward, turning the water to as hot as he could stand it. He let the steam and the pressure pound into his muscles and his lungs, but it didn’t completely release the frustration he felt toward Cooper, Kurt, or himself. He toweled off, got dressed, reapplied his gel, then made his way to the auditorium, where he did the only other thing he could think of when his emotions were too much…sing them out.

When he finished the last lines of “Fighter,” he heard applause from the wings.

“Should have known I would find you here,” Kurt said as he stepped out onto the stage.

“I’m fine.” Blaine shrugged.

“As a wise man once told me, ‘fine’ doesn’t sing like you just sung,” Kurt said. “That was quite the outburst you had in the choir room. Nice touch dragging me into it, by the way. But I know that wasn’t all about me. Want to talk about it?”

“It’s just… Cooper . He has to be so handsome and talented and charming and enigmatic, and I’ve watched you trip over your own feet at the mere sight of him all week. I mean, his acting advice isn’t even that good.”

Kurt looked…amused? “Blaine, are you jealous?”

“What? No, of course not. I’m… Okay. Maybe a little.” Blaine had to admit it; he was totally jealous of Kurt’s crush on Cooper, mainly because it wasn’t on him. Maybe this was his chance to open up, tell Kurt exactly how he really felt? But ugh, in the middle of the hallway between classes was not the way he wanted to do it. Kurt deserved romance and wooing. This wasn’t the right time. So… “Cooper just has this ability to make everybody love him and make me feel like, well, not that.” There. That was technically the truth, too.

“Blaine, Cooper is handsome and charming, sure, but he’s not you ,” Kurt said. “And by the way, everybody in that choir room loves you, too. Cooper was just something new and shiny; that’s all. And if I’m being totally honest? Yeah. He’s a little full of himself.”

“He is,” Blaine nodded.

“Speaking of people who love you… A little birdie told me he might be waiting back in the choir room. Don’t worry. The rest of the Glee Club already left. You two need to really talk. I think you touched a nerve; he was pretty upset.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really. You know, he really does think you’re talented. He just didn’t know how to tell you. I have a feeling he’s open to finding another way than what he’s been doing.”

Blaine hoped that was the case. His brother infuriated him, but he still loved the guy. “Are you going home?”

“No. Need to stop by the garage first. See you later?”

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Dave Karofsky awkwardly hovering near the back auditorium door. Blaine acted quickly. “Of course, you will, honey,” he said before he leaned in to Kurt without warning and kissed him softly on the lips. He nestled his face into Kurt’s neck just long enough to whisper, “Dave’s watching,” before finishing a hug, taking the opportunity to inhale Kurt’s scent. He then went in search of his brother to put out the other fire he had started.

He found Cooper in the choir room, right where he’d left him. He was sitting at the piano (apparently Brad had cleared out, too), plinking out the opening notes to another Duran Duran song and murmuring the lyrics to himself. “Came in from a rainy Thursday on the avenue…”

“Thought I heard you talking softly,” Blaine finished the line.

Cooper startled slightly and stopped, turning on the bench. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Blaine said, his head bent, eyes down. “Look…

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m so sorry…”

Cooper laughed at their unintended synchronicity. “Um, you first.”

Blaine shook his head, but said, “Okay. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, especially in front of everyone. I think I embarrassed both of us.”

“You probably did,” Cooper agreed. “But also, I guess I deserved it. Maybe you were right. I guess I just wanted you to do well so badly that I focused more on correcting your mistakes than all the ways you were already talented.”

“You…you think I’m talented?”

“Squirt, if I didn’t think you were, you think I would bother pushing you so hard to succeed?” Cooper stood up. “Blaine, I’ve been in Hollywood for years , and my big break is a commercial that airs during Dr. Phil and late-night, syndicated reruns of CSI: Miami . But you…with your Disney Prince looks? Your voice and stage presence? You’re gonna take it all by storm. Movies, music, Broadway…”

“I thought Broadway was dead. Your words.”

“You’ll single-handedly revive it. I just wanted you to be the absolute best. And everyone can use some improvement, like your dancing.”

“Coop…”

“What I’m trying to say is, I assumed you already knew how good you were at the other stuff. But I guess everyone needs some reassurance every now and then. So, this is me saying it. Blaine, you are awesome, and I can’t wait to see what you do next.”

“Thanks, Cooper.” Blaine and Cooper met in a hug.

Cooper patted Blaine’s shoulder and said to him, “And by the way, that boyfriend of yours is a keeper. Hold on to him.”

“Huh?” Blaine pulled from the hug.

“Kurt. Let me tell you, after you left, he tore into me. Said I was being ungrateful and unfair to you and how you were right, that I was focused on the negative and not seeing all the wonderful things you are.”

Blaine blinked. Wonderful ? “Things like what?”

“Like how you’ll do anything for your friends, that you’re probably the most talented and gorgeous guy he’s ever met, and that I don’t know how lucky I am to have you for a brother.”

“Well, he’s right on that last one.”

“And on the others, too. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Blaine smiled. If Kurt really did think all of those things…was there a chance?

Cooper walked back to sit at the piano. “Now, how about one more Duran Duran number…for the road?”

“Sure. Why not?” Blaine said, leaning on the other side. “And after, we can work on your audition tape.”

“Audition?”

“For the Michael Bay movie. I think you might sell yourself short, too, Cooper. If anyone belongs in the Transformers franchise it’s you.”

“Thanks, Squirt.”

As they started over again on “Ordinary World,” Blaine couldn’t help but let his imagination drift back to what Kurt had apparently told Cooper. And if he had really ripped into him like he had said, he was either a great actor… or both of their outbursts tended to reveal truth in anger.

Note from GleefuldarrenCrissFan: The next chapter, written by starpunchsoup, will be posted Saturday morning. This fic is completely finished, thanks to Teddyshoney, who edited each chapter. Don't forget to leave a review and let the author know your thoughts.

Read on AO3 [chapter 8]

#The Prom-us #the prom-us #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic roulette- the prom-us #the prom us #signal boost #klaine fanfic

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literallymechanical · 3 years ago

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Book Recommendations? Book Recommendations!

This is the list of books I've read during the pandemic, and let me tell you, I am doing all sorts of decision paralysis on what I should read next. If any of y'all vibe with these, do you have anything you'd recommend? Other than the obvious sequels. Ideally nothing too YA-ish, right now.

In reverse chronological order: Skyward, Ancillary Justice, A Desolation Called Peace, A Memory Called Empire, Spinning Silver, Empress of Forever, Red Mars, The Priory Of The Orange Tree, This Is How You Lose The Time War, Harrow the Ninth, Gideon the Ninth, Rhythm of War, Dawnshard, The Ruin of Angels, and Four Roads Cross. I've put a little review of each of them under the cut!

Skyward, by Brandon Sanderson, 2018. Your usual story about an outcast, misunderstood teenage girl finding an injured dragon and nursing it back to health, except instead of a dragon it's a starfighter spaceship. Really solid YA scifi with Sanderson's trademark meticulous worldbuilding. An enjoyable read, though much lighter than his usual epic fantasy.

Ancillary Justice, by Ann Leckie, 2013. Honestly, I didn't enjoy this one. It was pitched as a queer science fiction space opera, but the "queer" bit was gimmicky and falls apart if you think about it, I didn't find the characters interesting, and the plot didn't even try to hide that it was just a list of checkboxes. Felt like a YA novel that refused to admit it. This is the only book on this list that I personally wouldn't recommend. But all my friends seemed to enjoy it, so I might be the odd one out here.

A Memory Called Empire and A Desolation Called Peace, by Arkadiy Martine, 2019 and 2021. The first two books in what will presumably be a trilogy, and the best stories I've read in a long time. Twisty political thrillers wrapped up in gorgeous science fiction, and by FAR my favorite books on this list. Vibrant characters with nuanced relationships, scifi worldbuilding that is frankly breathtaking, a captivating story, and an all-around delight to read. Language, identity, colonialism/imperialism, and cultural assimilation are tackled through the lens of scifi. In my opinion, this is what science fiction should be. Also there are lesbians. Above every other book here I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THESE ONES. Martine seriously earned her Hugo Award.

Spinning Silver, by Naomi Novik, 2018. Folklore-fantasy about three young women — the daughter of a jewish moneylender, a poor peasant girl from an abusive home, and the daughter of a nobleman who wants to marry her to the Tsar — caught up in a conflict between the Faerie realms, the human world, and something much more sinister than either. Highly recommend, especially if you're jewish.

Empress of Forever, by Max Gladstone, 2019. A fantastical science fiction breakneck-pace adventure romp that puts its foot on the gas in Chapter 2 and doesn't let up. It's also quite explicitly a genderbent retelling of the classic Chinese epic Journey to the West, with more lesbians this time. This book has all kinds of energy, extremely fun characters with more depth than you'd expect, and some bonkers high-concept SF. Highly recommend if you like swashbuckling found-family adventure stories, and wlw romance.

Red Mars, by Kim Stanley Robinson, 1992. Every book, movie, and TV show about colonizing Mars since Red Mars was written owes pretty much everything to this book. It can be a bit dense if you're not up for lengthy (but gorgeous!) descriptions of Martian landscapes, and there are one or two bits where you just have to keep in mind that it was the 90's and this was quite progressive for its day. That being said, I am a sucker for a two-page description of a martian sunset. If crunchy hard-science fiction thrillers (emphasis on the "science") are your thing, I recommend this one. I'll read the sequels (Blue Mars and Green Mars) at some point.

The Priory of the Orange Tree, by Samantha Shannon, 2019. The prose and plot read like classic high fantasy, but with a modern eye towards character-driven storytelling. It's not often that you get something that feels so classic and so modern at the same time. Scratches that Lord of the Rings itch, with Queens and dragons and glorious heroes, but queer romance and a heavy focus on character development makes this a modern fantasy classic. Highly recommend if you like doorstopper-length high fantasy, and lesbians.

This Is How You Lose The Time War, by Max Gladstone and Amal El-Mohtar, 2019. A novella, you can read it in a couple of days — or a single marathon sitting, if you get into it. Gladstone (same author as Empress of Forever) and El-Mohtar take turns writing letters back and forth from time-traveling spies of rival timelines: Red works for the post-singularity mechanical Agency, and Blue fights for the Garden, a post-solarpunk biofuture. Their letters start out as taunts, and gradually change in tone as each develops a grudging respect for her rival. That rivalry blossoms — or compiles — into something deeper. It's emotional and raw, and it cartwheels merrily down the tightrope of fantasy, science fiction, and poetry. Highly recommend, though the flowery prose and gleeful disregard for explaining itself to the audience might be off-putting for some.

Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, 2019 and 2020. I'll let the pull quote from on the cover of Gideon from Charles Stross' review describe these: "Lesbian necromancers explore a haunted gothic palace in space! Decadent nobles vie to serve the deathless emperor! Skeletons!" This one is horrifying, and it's funny, but I wouldn't call it comedy-horror. It kind of defies genre, outside the very broadest scope of "science fantasy." Read it if you like lots of gore, graphic violence, madcap humor, and extremely unhealthy, codependent, dysfunctional relationships that are always on the verge of self-destructing into multiple-homicide. Highly recommend.

Rhythm of War and Dawnshard, by Brandon Sanderson, 2020. Rhythm of War is book 4 of the Stormlight Archives, one of several epic fantasy series by Brandon Sanderson. Dawnshard is a novella set between books 3 and 4. This is the same author as Skyward, but intended for a more mature audience. Stormlight is definitely my favorite epic fantasy series, and I've read a lot of epic fantasy. These books have some extremely interesting takes on racism, mental illness, trauma, disability, identity, family, and regret, far more so than pretty much any other high fantasy I've read. The first book is The Way of Kings, and if you like bigass doorstopper multi-book fantasy series, The Stormlight Archives should be at the top of your list.

Four Roads Cross and The Ruin of Angels, by Max Gladstone, 2016 and 2017. While Empress of Forever and Time War were standalone novels, these are books 5 and 6 in Gladstone's Craft Sequence, and they are absolutely brilliant. This is a world where about sixty years ago, humankind went to war with the Gods, and the Gods lost. "Magic" in this world is more or less synonymous with "legal contracts," where you can literally sell your soul to your student loan company and resurrecting a dead god is basically bankruptcy restructuring. "Necromancer" is roughly synonymous with "lawyer." The first five books can be read more-or-less out of order, but I recommend you start with Three Parts Dead. Gladstone is probably my favorite author these days. Everything he writes feel like it could be a poem. Also, once again, lesbians.

I am really not sure why about 2/3 of these books are about lesbians. Like seriously, I went into almost all of these books completely cold. The only ones where I knew ahead of time to expect lesbians were the Locked Tomb books, and The Priory of the Orange Tree. I don't know if this is just because a lot of modern scifi and fantasy has lesbians, or if all my friends who recommend me books are queer, or if it's just a coincidence, but hey, I'm not complaining.

#books

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rataltouille · 4 years ago

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GEOMETRY OF THE HOLY MOON (1 AM): A SHORT STORY

GENRE: surrealism, literary fiction.

POV & TENSE: this little space is not enough for how wild the form is so i talk about this later!!

SETTING: a small desi village, 1924-25.

TONE: dreamy, unsettling, melancholic.

THEMES: faith vs reality, how people perceive others and how they perceive themselves, grief dealt the wrong way.

AESTHETICS: the splash of water on a quiet night, thick clouds obscuring the sky, rippling the moon’s reflection on the water. the intensity of a garden in spring, the emptiness of a dying town, the suffocation from being singled out. hands grazing lightly but never fully held. a lingering sadness behind your laugh. believing in things you shouldn't believe in. putting faith on a starless sky.

STAGE: completed first draft, 4085 words.

LOGLINE: a young boy, surrounded by loss, claims to talk to god. the story follows him and his conversations with this god, all while his village spies on him as he weaves his way around the two most crucial and lonely years of his life.

LITERAL LOGLINE: on today’s news let’s talk about a small backward town that hates sad little boys who worship god, even though the place is lowkey a cult!!

CHARACTERS:

THE SUMMER BOY: he’s around thirteen, and he’s very emotionally attached to his past. he lost his family at a young age to an unstable force, so he spends his time talking to himself. he’s a quiet, demure and sweet person, always willing to help others. he’s outwardly oblivious and sees only the good in people to a point where he doesn't understand when they’re trying to do him wrong. but! considering how the story [like a lot of my others] has themes of perception vs reality, it needs to be said that he isn't all that innocent. he’s rather impulsive and rash, never afraid of hurting himself [and thus accidentally harming others].

A GOD: is he real? do we even know if he’s an actual god? a very elusive figure despite having a lot of screentime. he’s a surprisingly humanised character and arguably the one with the most empathy. he has a soft spot for the boy and the two have a deep bond which is not common for a human and a god to have. you don’t get insight to what the other gods are like, but they’re implied to exist. this story has a very messy and hazy view towards religion and godhood and their nature towards humanity, and this vague figure, a dreamlike character, is proof enough of that.

THE VILLAGE: okay so in general these people suck. the village consists of, well, the village, but they’re very fluid in the way they appear in the story? as in for the most part they appear as a collective, a unit. one character, the summer boy’s “friend”, is somewhat separate considering he’s a pretty important character. it’s very hard describing this unit of a character but essentially they’re the main antagonistic force and they hate the protagonist for seemingly no reason.

WHAT GOES DOWN:

sometime around this time, the boy chances upon meeting his “god”, this being who lives up in the clouds and whom he talks with often, except you don't know if this god is real or not. that’s one of the recurring themes of this story: what’s real and what isn’t. it’s :) a fun time :) for sure :)

essentially Things Happen And It Only Gets Weirder. i cannot even try describing what happens because it’s all very spoilery but let’s just say that this is a very sad story but not even in a “this makes me cry” manner, but rather in a “this is so fucked up wtf why”. the prose of this is very, very hazy and thick, in a manner that’s both smooth and suffocating. there’s also a lot of moon and water imagery which we love. i love the atmosphere + the setting—colonial india— as it’s a subtle but key element to the plot.

FORM:

OKAY YES be prepared for the true colours of how unhinged i am. i apologize for the form brainrot.

POV: so in this story i really said “what if it had all three of the main povs... jk jk... unless 😳😳” and then proceeded to use all three povs. you’re probably wondering, how did i do that? WHY did i do that? and my answer to that is: 🙂

the first-person pov: the summer boy narrates in first person. his pov takes up about 40% of the story, and this is where we unlock family backstory + how he feels about the various forces playing into his life. he’s an extremely unreliable narrator and he knows it; his narration oscillates between very naive and very self-aware, and this effect is pretty disconcerting. the summer boy is kind of a walking contradiction and we love that conflict.

the second-person pov: a god narrates in second person. his pov takes around 20% of the story, and his scenes all involve his conversations with the boy. his pov is extremely detached, and suspends belief because he seems awfully made up. there’s an edge to the prose in his narration, where you know that something's off, but you can’t exactly pinpoint what.

the third-person pov: the villagers narrate, either as a collective, or as an individual figure, in third person. they take up the other 40% of the story, and there are so many different people and differing opinions with this, and every time we read a third person excerpt it’s a different person, and this is mostly used to add onto the different ways in which the boy is perceived. this is also where the structural part of the form gets really wacky.

STRUCTURE: if my story isn't told in vignettes is it my story though /j. gothm is told in vignettes, each one between 50 to 500 words. the first and second person bits are normal-ish vignettes, with straightforward narration. the third person vignettes, on the other hand, are super assorted. we have a lot of epistolaric sections— there’s a letter, a folk song [which was found around the summer boy], and most of the conversation is told as just plain dialogue without tags. there’s also a phone call transcript, and finally some normal chunks of prose. what am i doing wtf.

also to add onto this the story is told non-linearly. 😀 the only thing that keeps me from going insane is the fact that there are chronological tags before most vignettes [also the manner in which they're tagged differs from pov to pov. for example a few of the third person conversations are marked just as “sunday” or “thursday”, while the summer boy’s narration is marked with the full date and year]

in all this clownery i completely forgot to mention what the tense was [the way everything else was so complicated that i forgot tense was a thing lmao] and good news!! it’s the only sane thing about this story!! it’s told fully in present tense. thank everything.

AN EXCERPT:

okay i’m once again not sharing much because this will be submitted to litmags 🧞

[The boy is scrawny as always. He carries an air of diswant— even death had rejected him when the plague killed only his grandmother— but walks like he doesn’t notice. He smiles at them, jitters, and wipes his hand across his knees. Blood comes away in thin, translucent lines. He saves it on the kerchief he keeps tucked in his shirt, careful to dirty the cloth even more. The villagers scrunch their noses in disgust; who knew how old and rotten the kerchief was, or how long it had carried blood like the unwashed sword of a warrior?]

also by the way this excerpt is in square brackets because it is a third-person interjection in a vignette that is otherwise first-person [at this point...]

SPARE THOUGHTS:

this was inspired by a conversation i had with my grandfather, where he was telling me about how people used to sing songs to the skies, as a way of devotion to a specific god. he used the [loose translation of] the english word “yearning” to refer to the emotion the singers would invoke, and that sparked the concept of a disillusioned young boy who talks to the moon as a way to please the god he’s in love with. it’s a very softly disconcerting story and once again deals with the theme of “perception vs reality” which if you know me and my work, is the theme i’m forever obsessed with.

i really like how this turned out? the atmosphere is exactly how i wanted it to be, and there’s so much i have to add on as i edit and i’m really looking forward to that. this is also the only short story i’ve written where i knew which litmag i’d love for it to be published in? like i never write things with publishing in mind, but for some reason while writing this story it occurred to me that it would be a perfect fit for this specific magazine and i love that. anyway if you’ve made it through the post till here,,,, bless you and your braincells. and that’s all for today!!

#am writing #writeblr #wtwcommunity #atlastracking #ofcolourtracking #crabappletracking #tw death #tw plague #tw blood #the way this post gets increasingly incomprehensible...#love how my blog has just descended into pure chaos post-hiatus #geometry of the holy moon (1 am)#god complex #god complex intro

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sonnetthebard · 3 years ago

Note

This is kind of a crack idea, but I don't really care and I'm throwing it out anyway

Curt and Owen have to go undercover in a show for a mission(keeping an eye on one of the members of the cast maybe?). The show? Either Spies are Forever or a Hatchetfield show, take your pick -S

S anon... you have been waiting a while for this, and I apologize. With Headless, I needed a moment to recharge. So this is going to be a Modern! SAF fic. And as a treat, we're going original cast in an AU. That's right folks. Extra meta content. You asked for crack, you're gonna get crack. Please note: Most of the stories pertaining to the real people involved in this oneshot are made up based on what facts I know about them/ what I’m able to pick up on personalities. I don’t know any of these people personally, though. This is going to be such a ride, so buckle up.

Genre: Comedy/ Action/ Fluff

Words: 5639

TL;DR: Curt and Owen take the stage in order to monitor Chimera and one of their operatives. The thing is, they only have a vague clue as to who they're going after: he was one of the writers.

TW: Swearing, Guns, Fighting- But not much, this is mostly just gonna be a joke.

_________________________________________________

"Next we have... Curt Mega?" The longer-haired one read off, looking at Curt. "Cool name! We might have to use that- if, of course, that's okay with you."

"Oh... yeah, that's fine." Curt chuckled softly.

What, precisely, was Curt doing? Only the thing he'd vowed to Owen that he would never do (other than, of course, leave him): auditioning for a musical. Owen was a total theatre kid, and he'd done his share of musicals. Curt was always in the audience, but he'd jokingly told Owen that he would never be joining him up there. But... here he was. In an audition room. Curt never broke promises, not even joke ones. But these were... extenuating circumstances. In other words, this was for a mission and he had no doubt that Cynthia would actually kill him if he didn't follow through with his orders. Owen gave him a sly, triumphant smirk from across the room, where he was waiting for his audition. Curt got up, following the guy back further into the studio where they were holding auditions.

This mission was an odd one. It was monitoring a potential operative with Chimera Worldwide. Sure, they had the world by storm now- but A.S.S. was getting intel telling them that they might be breaching the privacy rights of people all over the world. In fact, Chimera may be a lot more criminal than they would seem to the naked eye. There was evidence coming to light of plots that could very well end in world domination. The worst part: apparently they were pretty plausible. One world government, puppeted by Chimera. That's why MI6 had sent Owen, and A.S.S. had sent Curt. They were their best agents, and a duo that had proven to work well together.

What did all of that have to do with a musical? To the average joe, nothing. Oh, Chimera had done well. They'd even declined to offer these guys a production grant so as to not seem shady. But... the A.S.S. had reason to believe that one of the writers and producers for the show that they were about to audition for was an operative for Chimera. Now, this play in and of itself may be an independent project. It may have nothing to do with Chimera. But... it was looking like the easiest way to monitor this operative, and so here Curt and Owen were. Owen was thrilled! He loved doing shows. He usually had to slot them into his schedule carefully, though. He couldn't do them during missions. So a mission where he was doing theatre was basically a dream come true for him.

Curt and Owen had chosen roles according to their experience with theatre. Curt had chosen to keep his name as his theatrical stage name, and Owen already did keep his name as a stage name. It was risky, but it also provided their names with a solid cover in the world outside of espionage. Owen had a legitimate resume built. That was why he was going for the lead, currently named 'JB' for 'James Bond' (subject to change). Curt, on the other hand, had stolen his resume from another actor named Curt Mega (who had fully agreed to that and signed an NDA and luckily enough happened to look like Curt). He had literally no acting experience, so he was going for a smaller role: The Informant and Ensemble. Both would likely have eyes on different parts of the production process and the cast. Hopefully they'd get a good idea of what was going on and who their target was. Maybe they'd even get to eliminate the threat! That was Curt's favourite part of missions.

"So, Curt... you did Glee?" The guy who had initially called him asked as they walked.

"Yep!" Curt lied.

"I recognize you! You were one of the Warblers- nice job on that solo in Uptown Girl, by the way." The man chuckled. Oh good. He was passable as the other Curt Mega. "I did Glee too. I was only there for, like, an episode though. But my buddy Darren... well, you probably know him."

"Yeah. He did a phenomenal job as Blaine." Curt smirked. Darren was also on an NDA. The government was being extremely careful.

"I'm Joey Richter. Me and my friends Brian and Corey wrote this show." The man introduced himself, extending his hand. Curt took it, giving him a firm shake. Joey smirked. "Damn... you've got a good shake."

"Thanks." Curt chuckled. He liked this guy. It was hard to imagine right now that he could be talking to an agent for one of the greatest evils known to man since... probably the Nazis. "I'm Curt... I mean, you know that, I just..."

"Yeah, I get it." Joey chuckled along with him. They walked into a room. Inside there were four other men. Two sat behind a table, Curt's supposed 'resume' and headshots laid out in front of them, a stack of papers on the side. Two other men shared a piano bench stationed by a keyboard. None of them were dressed particularly formally. Actually, they were all dressed pretty similarly to Curt. Short-sleeved patterned button-ups were about as formal as it got. So Curt and his black, white and gold striped short-sleeved button-up were in good company. "Hey, guys! This is Curt!"

"Hey! Welcome to the auditions for Spies are Forever!" One of the men behind the table smiled brightly. God, all of these men looked... so innocent. Curt couldn't see any of them being traitors to their country, much less mankind.

"Okay, so that's Brian. The guy beside him is Corey." Joey introduced. Corey waved. "The two guys at the piano bench are Clark and Pierce, our composers and band."

"Hey, Curt." Clark smirked.

"You brought your sixteen bars?" Pierce checked.

"Yep." Curt nodded, popping his 'p' and passing him the binder with his sheet music in it.

He'd brought Being Alive from Company, which Owen said was "such a cliche" and "a terrible choice for a comic show", but it was the song Curt felt most comfortable singing. So he was singing it anyways. Owen was very adamant that Curt had to be careful to actually be cast in the show, but Curt held that that song was his best chance. Curt had always thought he was an okay singer. He had his range that he shined in, and he used that. He never performed though. He wasn't that good. That's why he was going for a mostly non-singing role. He went over his cut with Clark, who was actually the one who would be playing for him. Then he cleared his throat, took a deep breath and gave it the old college try.

The odd thing, Curt thought, was that they seemed very into it. Either they were being very nice to him or they were genuinely enjoying the performance. Curt was a bit surprised by that. Owen was the performer among the two of them. Curt supposed it could just be the song. But then... something else unexpected happened. They asked Curt to do his cold read as 'JB'... and change the name to his own. 'Agent Curt Mega'. It was all getting a bit real for Curt. They liked him. And they liked his cold read. They were laughing during his cold read- and at all the right times! Curt was very confused. This wasn't where he was supposed to shine. He walked out of the audition room, and Owen was called in.

Owen really could not have come out sooner. Curt was anxious. What had he just done? He had given it his best because he thought that the best that could get him was ensemble. Was it going to get him more? Was he ready for more? He was past the point of no return, but... God, what had he just done? Owen came out of his audition, smug and content with himself. Apparently they'd asked him to read multiple sides. Curt hadn't the heart to tell him they'd asked him to read for the lead. A few days passed. Curt almost forgot that he'd even auditioned. That it had been so successful. Basking in the California sun could do that to you. But three days later, it all came back to him all too vividly.

"Curt, I got the email!" Owen announced from where he was lazing on the couch across from Curt in their hotel room. He sat up quickly, eager.

"What does it say?" Curt asked eagerly, sitting up with him. Owen scrolled down on his phone.

"Well... I'm in the show..." Owen furrowed his brows. "But... not in the role I thought. I got Deadliest Man Alive."

"Oh." Curt frowned. "I'm sorry. I know you really wanted the lead."

"It seemed like a juicy part." Owen hummed, still a bit dazed by the rejection. "I was looking forward to it."

"I know, babe." Curt sighed, getting up and wrapping his partner in a hug. "Maybe this one will be even juicier!"

"Maybe..." Owen nodded. "Thank you, love. For trying to make me feel better."

"Yeah, no problem!" Curt smiled softly.

"Did you get your email?" Owen asked.

"I... haven't checked." Curt admitted.

"Well go on, then! Sit! We'll check together!" Owen urged him. Curt sighed, sitting beside him and opening his email. Owen peered over his shoulder. The email from the Tin Can Bros was the first one that popped up right at the top. "Open it, Curt!"

"Okay..." Curt chuckled nervously, pressing the email to open it. He scrolled down, sighing in relief. "I got in, O."

"Congratulations!" Owen cheered, grinning. he was genuinely happy for Curt, and excited to be in the same show. "What role?"

"Let me scroll down..." Curt chuckled, before his heart stopped. Naturally, his laughter stopped with it, and his face fell.

"Love, what is it?" Owen furrowed his brows, concerned by the sudden mood shift. Immediately, his mind went to the worst-case scenario. "Curt, is there anything in there indicating that we might be compromised?"

"No..." Curt shook his head, staring at the role.

"Then... darling, what's wrong?" Owen blinked, before looking over his shoulder. His face fell to a state of shock almost equal to Curt's when he read the words, bolded on the screen: We would like to offer you the role of 'JB', renamed Agent Curt Mega. "Oh..."

_________________________________________________

Rehearsals for Spies Are Forever were potentially one of the best times Curt had ever had. Everyone loved him! Apparently, his voice was much better than he'd given himself credit for, as was his acting. Even Owen admitted it. It turned out Curt was perfect for the role. The songs fit right for him, the personality was spot on... the spy was even gay! It was as though it was written specifically for him to perform. Curt truly was having the time of his life. And Owen was loving the role of Deadliest Man Alive. It turned out it was a significantly juicier role than Curt's- funny, dark. And he even had a minor side comedic role to take on, Dick Big. So he could flex his chops in different area. There was a bit of a minor complication with the characters, though.

It turned out Curt's was not the only name that they'd liked. The Tin Can Bros had thought Owen's name was absolutely perfect... for Curt's partner turned villain. Romantic partner turned villain, to boot. They liked the ship name Curtwen. Ironically, both Owen and Joey were playing versions of Agent Owen Carvour- Owen playing him when he was in disguise as Deadliest Man Alive, Joey playing him out of disguise. Owen didn't make a fuss- he couldn't in the position he was in. But he didn't like being portrayed that way, or his name being used that way. The truth was, Owen had used to be morally grey. He'd had a phase where he'd almost betrayed his country and Curt. He'd very nearly done some terrible things. He wouldn't way who for, but Owen had implied it might have been Chimera. But he and Curt had worked through that, and he saw the error of his ways. It hurt seeing his name associated with villainy again. But for the sake of the mission, he literally could not complain.

As for the mission, they weren't really getting too far yet- and that wasn’t for lack of effort. As hard as finding a balance between rehearsal and espionage was, they’d managed to find a routine and stick to it. The work they were doing really should have been productive for them. They'd bugged all three writers and the two composers, but HQ (who was monitoring those so that the boys could focus on rehearsing so that they didn’t become too suspicious) was saying that they'd not gotten any suspicious activity from those except for Joey constantly being with an unidentified girl. But it seemed like that was his girlfriend and not another operative. So either this operative was smart and onto them or taking a hiatus from their work. Background checks were pretty clean. They were going purely off their interactions with these writers, which wasn’t really helping. All five of them were lovely. All five of them were also extremely smart. And all five of them had acting experience. Right now, though... Joey, Clark and Pierce weren't their main suspects. Joey was just too genuine to be bad, as were Pierce and Clark. Plus, if we're looking at technicalities (as Owen tended to), Clark and Pierce were composers, not writers. It was between Brian and Corey- unless something changed. Truly, it was anyone's game.

Owen and Curt were on break. It had been a hard day of rehearsal so far. Curt had just had to rehearse his pseudo-love-song with Mary Kate (who was lovely, but he was a bit jealous of- Owen had called her 'gorgeous' on multiple occasions now), and though it wasn't physically or musically demanding it was hard not to just start laughing. Especially with Curt, a gay man who had experienced this before. And Lauren played his meddling mother during the song, which only made it harder not to laugh. His own mother had no idea what he did or who he was seeing, and it was better that way. She just thought he was a single banker. He liked Lauren’s version of his mom better. She was way funnier. It had taken a bit of time just to get a run in where Curt wasn't giggling the entire time. The song was just so well written! He knew it was so unprofessional (and Owen had certainly reminded him of that) but he couldn't help it! And the Bros were laughing with him, so it was all good. He was glad to be on break, because his sides were killing him. He scrolled through his phone, checking for anything from HQ, before he felt a hand on his back.

"You know, Curt, I don't know if I've told you this lately but you're really, really great!" Joey told him.

"Thanks, man." Curt chuckled. "Thanks for the opportunity!"

"Thank you for coming out for our show!" Joey smirked. His voice dropped to a lower volume. “Listen... you and Owen are dating, right?”

"Yeah..." Curt furrowed his brows. He and Owen had chosen to be open about that. They were all pretty supportive of the LGBTQ+ community. The actor playing Susan and The Informant had even confessed to him that they thought they might be nonbinary- maybe even female leaning.

"Okay, so for the whole anniversary thing..." Joey fidgeted a bit nervously. "I mean... I've got an anniversary coming up, and, like, it's not my first, but... I think I’ve used every trick in the dating book at this point, and-"

"Wait, you're dating?" Curt blinked.

"Oh! Right, you're new!" Joey started to laugh. "Um... yeah! It's me and Lo."

"You and Lauren?" Curt smirked. He chuckled. "I knew it!"

"We're not public about the relationship yet, though, so... keep it quiet?" Joey pleaded.

"Oh yeah, you're safe." Curt assured him.

"So... any ideas?" Joey asked. “I really want this to be special for her.”

"Have you guys done the beach yet?" Curt offered. "Like, just a picnic- something you both love to eat- out on the beach."

"Yeah, did that two years ago." Joey sighed.

"Alright... how about a museum?" Curt offered. "It can be any museum that has something the two of you could bond over. But... I mean, Owen is super into experiencing art together."

"That we haven't done... not by ourselves on a date." Joey considered. "It doesn't even really have to be art, does it?"

"Nah, that's the beauty of museums! There are museums out there for everything." Curt smirked. “Maybe you two could go to a movie museum.”

"That’s probably more our speed.” Joey chuckled. “Thanks, man!”

"No problem.” Curt winked playfully. Then, he got an idea. He trusted Joey, so hopefully this worked. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

"I mean, I kinda owe you one." Joey chuckled. “Ask away!”

"Have you noticed anyone... acting a bit weird? Like... different from the way they usually do." Curt whispered.

"I... think I know who you mean." Joey nodded. "With Mary Kate... I think she honestly just misses Sean, you know? The rehearsals are a long time for her to be away from him. Those two are so close."

"Yeah... yeah, that must be hard on her." Curt hummed sympathetically. That... wasn't what he'd been going for.

"But I don't know what's going on with Brian." Joey confided in him. "I mean, it's not like he's been acting weird, per se, but... I mean, he always used to be down to just hang after work. But recently, he's been too busy to do that? I honestly thought it was just me who was picking up on that, but like... you're noticing it too?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Curt lied, all the sympathy he could muster in his tone. Bingo. He'd just gotten some really, really good intel there. If there was anyone who would be able to know when one of the writers was acting shady, it was Joey. They were his best friends. And Curt tended to agree with Joey anyways. Corey just didn’t give off villain vibes. Neither did Brian, but out of the two of them, Brian gave off more. “Glad it’s not just me.”

"What's he saying about me?" Brian rolled his eyes playfully, approaching his bag from behind them to grab something. Shit. He must have heard his name.

"Uh..." Joey blushed.

"Oh, he was just telling me about how you two met." Curt lied. Joey gave him a questioning look. But Curt remembered him mentioning it in another one of his longwinded vents. "U of Michigan, Freshmen year. You two got into a lot of trouble."

"He's not telling you any of the bad stuff, is he?" Brian teased.

"Nah, man- I respect the bro code!" Joey scoffed playfully. Curt gave Joey a wink, and Joey gave him a grateful look in return. The wink hadn't gone unnoticed by Brian though.

"Oh god, he is telling you the bad stuff, isn't he?" Brian groaned playfully. "Listen, if Lauren asks, none of it was us."

"Oh don't worry... I'm great with secrets." Curt chuckled. He kinda wanted context now. Knowing those two, it was nothing serious- Joey had a heart of gold. He wouldn't be involved in anything bad. Especially not with his soon-to-be-girlfriend. So probably pranks, or other such shenanigans.

"Guys... I already knew it was you." Lauren rolled her eyes. None of them had noticed her by her own rehearsal bag picking up her water bottle. "It was so obvious... I may have believed you when you blamed Holden like... once? Twice? But you literally signed off half of the time."

"We did?" Joey blinked, looking at Brian.

"Okay, look, some of the time... I was pretty proud of our work." Brian defended himself.

"Dude!" Joey started to snicker. "And here I was keeping secrets from my girlfriend for you!"

"Sorry, Joey." Brian winced.

“Eh, I guess I have to forgive you.” Joey rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re my best friend.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Lauren asked, noticing a pink piece of paper sticking out of Curt’s rehearsal bag. Curt blushed profusely. That was the letter Owen had written to pick him up. he took it everywhere with him in case he panicked so that he could read it, remember those days and calm down. It helped. He’d meant to keep it hidden.

“Oh... it’s nothing.” Curt lied.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” Lauren smirked. She gave him a genuine look. “Is it personal?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too bad.” Owen chuckled. Curt blushed further, feeling Owen wrap his arms around his waist. When had he gotten there?”

“What’s going on over here?” Corey asked, joining them. It seemed they had formed a rather large clump.

“I think Lauren might be about to read the first letter I ever wrote to Curtis.” Owen smirked triumphantly, clearly not embarrassed by that prospect.

“Ooooo romantic!” Tessa teased Curt. When had she shown up? God, for a spy, Curt was not very observant. He took a brief look at his surroundings. Ah. Everyone was there. Fantastic.

“Oh hell yeah I am!” Lauren smirked. She plucked the paper out of Curt’s bag.

“Oh god...” Curt groaned.

“You okay with this?” Corey checked with Curt. Curt nodded reluctantly.

“I mean, as long as O is.” Curt sighed, relenting.

With that, Lauren used the rest of their break to overdramatically read out Owen’s letter. Curt was a blushing mess, and Owen was grinning like an idiot. Evidently he was proud of himself- as he should have been. It was a good letter. At least Curt and Owen now had an idea of who to look into: Brian Rosenthal. It was a bit odd to think that Brosenthal might be a Chimera operative. He was a funny, quirky... he didn’t seem ruthless enough. Maybe they were wrong. But this was literally all the intel they could get at the moment. Mind you, they needed concrete evidence before they could actually do anything, but... at least they had a lead. Even if it was a weird one. The thing about espionage was that leads were usually weird. So they... well, they managed to bug all of the writers’ houses a bit more to give HQ more to work with, but especially Brian’s. That way the minute they had solid evidence, they could act. Well... not the minute. More like within about twenty minutes. But same difference. There was nothing else they could do.

________________________________________________

Nothing happened through the rest of the rehearsal process. Literally nothing. No one did anything suspicious. Honestly, Curt and Owen were starting to think that their superiors were wrong. They were performing their shows- with excellent reception, might they add. People were loving Curt. The real Curt Mega was getting huge acclaim on Curt’s behalf. And the fans... well they were going mad. It was looking like the show would be a huge success- which meant two things. One, Curt was going to have to do more theatre. Cleary he was good at it. Two, his life as a spy was about to get more... complicated. IT turned out these guys had a bit of a cult following because they had been involved with a theatre group called Team Starkid? Curt knew about them from his mission briefing, but honestly he’d never thought that they were that big of a deal. When he’d confessed that to Owen he’d gotten a long lecture. Apparently Owen was also a fan, and that was half of why he was so excited to be doing this show. But that was a topic for another time.

It was about the third show in when they finally got the evidence they had been looking for. It... was not when they’d planned to find anything. Actually, it was at the least convenient time. Between acts. It was also in the least expected way. Curt had to get his props for the top of Act Two. Owen decided to go with him, mostly to make sure he wasn’t a total and utter child. Honestly, they just meant to get their props before places. They were the only ones in that area backstage- the stagehands were resetting the stage and helping with costume changes/ tech issues. Well, they thought they were the only ones backstage. They should have been. But it turns out that someone else had anticipated the lack of people, and was using that to his advantage. At first, all Curt and Owen could hear were murmurs- not distinguishable in the slightest. Bey both gave each other a look before pulling out their real guns (which they hid on their costumes just in case) and following the sound. And that was when they saw him. The culprit behind all of this: Bri- Corey Lubowich? They lowered their guns a bit, staying dead quiet. That wasn’t what they’d been expecting. {erhaps this was a false alarm.

“I am in the middle of a- no, I get that my work with you is important! Believe me, I know!” Corey hissed. “I just... tonight is one of my shows! I’m going on as the Prince! I- well can it wait half an hour? I mean I’d prefer two hours, but if I have to whip out my laptop backstage, I- well I’m kinda insisting on- come on, you guys know my theatre is important to me!”

“Okay... so we were wrong...” Owen whispered.

“We don’t know that...” Curt reasoned. “It could be his family.”

“Of course I’m loyal! When have I not done what you said? I have sacrificed so much for you!” Corey fumed quietly. “Chimera is my life now! Not theatre, not my family or friends. Chimera! Do you know how fucking weird that is for someone my age?! I’m too young for all this corporate shit! No! No, of course that’s not what I’m saying just- can I have my night? Come on, this is really important.”

“Okay, I take that back.” Curt blinked, stunned. He was just a bit too loud. Corey’s head snapped in their direction, and both men raised their guns. Corey’s eyes fumbled, and he pulled out a gun of his own, haphazardly aiming it at them.

“Okay... shit, guys, I’m going to have to call you back... we’ve got a situation.” Corey muttered. His face fell and he rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “No, not a theatre situation. An us situation. I’ll fill you in- look, they have guns. Just- I really don’t have the time for this anymore- NOT MY JOB WITH YOU! This conversation! Jesus, I’ve got two guns pointed at me! Let me go! Okay, fine! Bye!”

“You...” Curt spat, glaring at Corey.

“You guys finally figured it out...” Corey sighed, raising his gun fully at them.

“You know who we are?” Curt blinked.

“How?” Owen asked him coldly.

“Chimera has eyes and ears everywhere.” Corey rolled his eyes. “Just like in the show. I knew you were coming, and I knew you were looking for me. I just didn’t think you’d actually find me.”

“Are you insulting our intelligence?” Owen scoffed.

“No. I just thought I set up Brian pretty well.” Corey admitted. “It was pretty easy, too... all I had to do was point out to Joey that Brian wasn’t coming to as many of our hangouts as he used to. You trusted Joey. Joey relayed that to you. Threw you completely off my scent.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just the friend of the year.” Curt rolled his eyes. “You threw your bro under the bus.”

“You’re lucky we didn’t get a false tip-off and eliminate him.” Owen hummed in agreement. “You’ve no clue the kinds of things that could set our superiors off.”

“Well... It’s Brian. The chances of him doing anything sketchy are slim to none.” Corey reasoned.

“Corey, I’m going to need you to put that gun down and put your hands behind your head.” Curt sighed.

“Alright, guys, places!” Joey called out to them. Everyone was backstage- except, oddly, Lauren (who was usually pretty punctual on cues). Shit. Their timing was awful. “You can play with the... are those our prop guns?”

“No... those are too modern.” Brian furrowed his brows, approaching them to get a closer look. He blinked before stumbling back. “Holy shit, guys... are those real guns?”

“Yes, they are... and you’re going to need to stay back.” Curt told them levelly. “Lubowich, gun down, hands behind your head.”

“We outgun and outman you.” Owen reminded him. The fact that Corey was so reluctant was astounding. “And we have a license to kill if you don’t cooperate.”

“Okay, guys, what the fuck?!” Joey exclaimed.

“Can we just... put the guns down and talk this out?” Tessa pleaded.

“No... we can’t.” Curt shook his head. “My name is Agent Curt Mega, American Secret Service. My partner is Owen Carvour, MI6.”

“Our credentials...” Owen muttered, pulling them out with one hand and holding them out to Brian, who was closest. He hesitantly took them. Corey shot Owen while he wasn’t in peak position to shoot him. Curt shot Corey back with no hesitation. Neither shot was fatal, Corey’s hitting Owen in the arm and Curt’s hitting Corey in the shoulder. The impact was enough to make both men stumble back. Owen stayed on his feet, but Corey fell. Curt kept his gun trained on Corey.

“Holy shit, they’re not lying...” Brian mumbled.

“Okay, Corey... what the actual fuck, man?!” Joey fumed, definitely feeling a bit betrayed.

“Corey... why are you fighting the secret service?” Mary Kate asked coolly, trying to be the level-headed one.

“He works for Chimera.” Curt told them, knowing they might not get a clear response from Corey for a bit.

“The assholes who wouldn’t fund us?” Brian groaned. Corey grunted in admittance. “Come on, man! This just keeps getting worse and worse!”

“Okay, guys, I’m here. Sorry I took so-” Lauren started, rushing out. She saw the scene playing out and blinked. “Holy fuck! What’s going on?!”

“They’re actual fucking spies, Lo.” Joey hissed. “All three of them.”

“Pretty sure Curt and Owen are the good guys.” Brian added in a whisper.

“Oh yeah, Curt and Owen are definitely the good guys.” Tessa gulped.

“Corey is an agent for Chimera.” Curt explained.

“Please tell me this is an elaborate prank.” Lauren chuckled nervously.

“No, Lo... this time it’s real.” Joey sighed.

“Okay, but... Chimera’s just a huge global corporation, right?” Mary Kate reasoned.

“Not really.” Corey croaked out.

“They’re plotting world domination.” Owen grunted.

“Corey...” Joey breathed.

“World domination makes it sound bad.” Corey grimaced. “We more just want control over every world government... and then maybe to take all of them out and form one Chimera government.”

“That doesn’t make it sound any better.” Tessa winced.

“Why?” Brian asked Corey, hurt. “Why are you doing this?”

“Honestly, I just needed a bit of extra money in college.” Corey muttered, trying and failing to find his footing. Clearly he wasn’t a field agent too often.

“So you turned to espionage?!” Lauren scoffed incredulously.

“Honestly I started as a delivery boy and then I found out some shit I should never have known...” Corey sighed. “It escalated really quickly.”

“God, this is a mess.” Joey groaned.

“Curt, love, can you give our superiors a ring?” Owen prompted him. “I’ll deal with our former friend here.”

“On it.” Curt nodded, pulling out his phone.

“So... do we stop the show?” Brian asked Owen as he pulled out a zip-tie- another essential item Owen always kept on him, even in costumes.

“Oh no... the A.S.S. is the epitome of discretion. Believe me, you’ll have no clue what’s going on. Just see if you can find a friend in the audience to go on for The Prince.” Owen told them, tying up Corey and forcing him onto his feet. “Owen will take him outside and... he should honestly be ready to go on after We Love The Prince.”

“Holy shit... okay...” Lauren sighed.

“I’ll make an announcement that we’re having technical difficulties...” Joey planned. “Let’s, um... just take a moment to breathe and get back into the right headspace.”

“We’ll be back in a moment.” Curt told them as he and Owen took Corey outside.

“Rot in hell, you asshole!” Brian called after him, sniffing. Was he... crying? You know what, it was completely fair. That was one hell of a betrayal.

So Curt and Owen passed Corey onto their superiors, and Spies Are Forever was able to go on. They got Nick Lang to play The Prince, which only made the fans more excited. Curt and Owen were allowed the opportunity to finish their run with the show- which Curt was so, so grateful for. He loved theatre. he never thought he would, but he loved it. And Owen loved that he loved it. Spies are Forever was the first of many shows for Curt. He got into the habit, like Owen, of doing shows between missions. In fact, he actually got to make Owen a little jealous later on- he got into a Starkid show. Mind you, they knew who he was. Fully this time. They even supported him- helped him build a public backstory. The real Curt Mega’s wife even played wife to him publicly when she needed to. It was a new start in Curt’s life and one that he hadn’t even known he needed. Finally, everything seemed like it was okay.

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

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First, I just want to say that I love reading your rants/head cannons/opinions. I find them VERY entertaining and true. Now, I read your opinions on James, Sirius, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I want to know what you think of Draco and Neville. I honestly think that Draco is an asshole, but I want to know exactly what you think. P.S. Can't wait for the next chapter of "When Harry Met Tom"

Well, at the very least, I’m glad I’m entertaining.

Now for Draco and Neville, interesting choices actually, I don’t usually spend much thought on those two. Never the less, let’s dive in and see what we find.

Draco Malfoy

There’s a lot of varying opinion on Draco Malfoy. In my long tenure of stalking the internet, fanfiction, and even more fanfiction I’ve found that in many cases he ceases to actually be a character but instead becomes this unholy agglomeration of tropes people like.

Seriously, Draco Malfoy isn’t even a person anymore. He’s leather pants.

What’s interesting to me is that it’s not even always the same tropes. Well, you tend to see the same ones bandied about, but it’s not even like characters like Tom Riddle or Hermione Granger where I can usually narrow it down to a few very precise characterizations you see everywhere. Draco’s all over the place.

You have bad boy Draco who’s varying levels of actually being bad boy so that we can use him instead of a young Tom Riddle. This is generally in stories where an author wants an antihero or else villain love interest, they like the Draco or bad boy aesthetic, but Tom Riddle is too spicy for Yog Sothoth. So Draco reminds us he’s evil a lot, he usually betrays our main love interest in a dramatic yet inevitable moment, but he’s not the purest of evil. He leaves the puppy beside the well and watches as Tom drowns it for him. Despite this the story will often pretend that Draco’s the most evil of evil to raise the stakes.

You have non-problematic Draco who suddenly was never a Death Eater, or perhaps his family was always filled with spies for the Order of the Phoenix, who only pretended to hate muggleborns and really has been on the good side this whole time! Alternately, Draco was on the bad side, but within two seconds of the fic he’s switched sides and we’re told it’s cool now because Draco understands.

You have Sexy McLeatherPantsFace Draco who never left My Immortal but authors will claim, should you ask, that bisexual overly emotional Draco’s characterization is nothing like My Immortal’s and how dare you imply such things you swine! Really, his pervasive existence is why My Immortal is such a great satire.

The list goes on but basically Draco’s whatever people need or want him to be to an absurd degree and it always makes me laugh. Oh Draco, what have they done to you? Are you even in there anymore?

Right, where do I land on Draco? Honestly, he’s a bit like Ron in that he has severe character flaws but he’s not goddamn insane like Harry or Hermione.

Mostly though, I just don’t take him seriously.

Throughout the book series he’s an ass, he’s that rich, elitist, entitled jackass that we all have run into at some point or another. He’s the kid who legitimately thinks ‘my father will hear about this’ is a threat and constantly abuses his relationship with Severus Snape just to show how cool he is ‘he practically makes Snape dish out punishment to Harry and Ron needlessly, and Snape is such a sad ridiculous man he actually goes along with it and panders to this brat’.

Draco’s the kind of ridiculous fucking person who pretended to not have the use of his arm for months just so he could get Hagrid fired. When, honestly, Lucius still could have gotten Hagrid fired probably without Draco’s very non-compelling evidence. (Now, that said, I do believe Hagrid never should have had the job/should have been fired, but that’s a different story). And then, when he realized not having an arm kind of sucked, he was miraculously healed.

Harry takes Draco and his rivalry very seriously because he’s also an adolescent, lacks perspective, and just isn’t that bright but Draco is fucking ridiculous and half the time he’s embarrassing himself. I mean, the guy buys his position onto the Slytherin team with an absurd amount of money, and he still loses matches to the Gryffindor team. Draco should never be living that down.

So, basically, I never at any point take Draco seriously. He’s just a kid with a big mouth who grew up in a very racist household and never has any idea what he’s talking about ever. He’s not inherently evil, not particularly good either, he’s just a kid who’s more obnoxious than your usual brand of kid.

I never imagined him particularly good looking (I believe his features are described as pinched or something), I never really saw the appeal in either making him more evil than he was or else redeeming him, he’s kind of the comic relief we all needed in our lives but is really there to keep the filler plot going to give Harry and the gang time to stew on the bigger Hogwarts mysteries. Without Draco what would we even do for hundreds of pages?

When it comes to book six he starts getting a little interesting in that his life completely falls apart but I think many fics paint him as far more self aware than he was. He knows his family is in deep trouble but I don’t think he realizes they’re being punished. I don’t think he realizes that Tom setting up camp in Casa Malfoy is a direct response to a) his failure with the diary b) his failure with the prophecy. Well, he might, but I imagine Lucius or Naricssa had to point it out to him. More, I think he genuinely believes he is meant to succeed in the task of assassinating Dumbledore.

He never realizes that Voldemort fully expects him to fail, that this task is just to essentially torture Draco for months, and when Draco does fail Voldemort will then murder him in front of Lucius saying, “AND THAT’S WHY WE DON’T SELL TOM RIDDLE’S THINGS!” This I think is evident in Draco accepting Bellatrix’s help, but not Snape, legitimately thinking that he has to achieve this on his own and that the Dark Lord has given him this Very Important Task (TM).

Basically, Draco’s a kid over his head and doesn’t even realize he’s in over his head. More, I think even in book seven he still believes in the dark lord’s cause. It’s all become this weird madhouse but we don’t ever really see him come to grips that this is madness. It’s hard to tell because we’re from Harry’s perspective, but Draco never really seems all that unwilling of a Death Eater. Instead he’s very proud to have become one and sure, Hogwarts got a little weird, but that’s okay!

In other words, I don’t think Draco ever really had that redemption arc people thought he did or hoped he would. Harry just saves his life, Narcissa is forever grateful to Harry, and then Draco continues to shuffle along in life perhaps in a daze wondering what even happened.

TL;DR Draco’s just a guy.

Neville Longbottom

Oh man, poor Neville, why is he even friends with the gang when they treat him like such garbage all the time? Neville’s kind of like the friend who’s sort of friends with this one social group but they constantly forget him except when it’s convenient to them.

Not just forget him but brush him off, make fun of him, and barely speak with him.

Neville has no friends and it’s really just sad that he’s stuck with these people.

As for Neville himself, he seems nice, that’s really all I have on him. We don’t see too much of him, his life is garbage from beginning to end (his relatives throw him out a goddamn window), he’s treated like trash by everyone and no one respects him but he still seems nice.

Not particularly interesting, but a nice enough kid who doesn’t deserve to be treated like shit all the time. That said, I guess somebody’s got to be Gryffindor comic relief and plot convenience, so it’s time for Neville to forget the passwords yet again and be left out all night because portraits suck.

#ask #anon #harry potter #head canons #draco malfoy #neville longbottom

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lizacstuff · 3 years ago

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Your thoughts on the epi? I thought it was a good episode overall. Serkan is acting the way I thought he would: he wants to be the perfect Dad, is scared she won't love him, is spoiling her but also teaching her things. I'm not quite sure why Kiraz isn't calling him Baba, maybe she needs time to adjust to calling him that. I have mixed emotions when it comes to the way Eda spied on Serkan. I understand she's worried but trust the man a little. No comments on Aydan and Ayfer! They are too much!

Hello! I liked the episode. It felt very light, very romcom-y and I thought it was very enjoyable to watch. Loved every minute of Serkan trying to be the ideal dad and I'm here for the Edser UST this ep brought. They want each other sooooo much. And, yes, Eda wants him, she wants him bad. I thought the custody thing at the end was silly and convoluted, but, hey, I'm totally here for the "they're not together and fighting their feelings, but forced to live together" trope so I will just ignore how unbelievable it would be for Edser to be drowning in hearteyes for each other all ep, getting along in regards to Kiraz, AND seemingly aware that Aydan/Ayfer were up to something and still allow a misunderstanding over their shenanigans to spiral to that nonsense degree.

Maybe the folks that think that Serkan & Eda were playing all the meddling family and friends are right, and they set it up beforehand, it's just that I've thought things were a fake out on this show so many times, only for them to be real, so at this point I'm operating under the assumption that this is just a romcom plot point to throw our romantic leads together and it's not worth examining it too closely.

I'll give my thoughts on the "Baba" vs "Serkan Bolat" thing and Eda's actions after we talk a bit about the B, C and D players... Thankfully we had plenty of Edser and Kiraz screen time this ep so the supporting stories didn't overwhelm the episode too much.

(much more under the cut)

That being said, who can we pay to get these people to mind their own f-cking business? LMAO. At least Engin and Piril weren't annoying and were actually trying to be helpful. I mean, Piril is still cancelled, but if she's not causing trouble now then she's not at the top of my shit list. However, I did laugh at her when she's sort of pleading with Serkan: "We've been friends for a long time, you'll understand why I did this." Um... what, Piril? You're sitting there approximately 72 hours after Serkan found out he has a child and he's already proven that he's ALL IN on being a father, and you expect Serkan to think you were right for hiding it from him? Cause why? He has already proven that any concerns you had about him rejecting Kiraz were invalid. The only thing wrong with Serkan's anger at Piril is that it will probably only last for that scene.

Anyone else think Kerem the assistant is an ass? Seriously, do they really want us to root for sweet Pina to be with this dickweasel? He's insecure, he thinks he knows it all, he's snarky and lashes out, he's vindictive. No thanks.

As for Aydan and Ayfer. Ooph. As punishment for their unprecedented assery this episode they both need to be stranded on a desert island with only each other. Only then maybe they'll learn not to insert themselves by such underhanded means. They're both giant pains in the ass, but Ayfer still annoys me more than Aydan. Because here's the thing, once Edser is back together and Serkan is happy, Aydan will fully embrace Eda again, but I don't think the same can be said for Ayfer. Did you see some of the bitchy, sour faces Ayfer was making, taunting Eda about her soft spot for Serkan. She's insufferable.

Turning to the nonsense meddling custody plot line, Kemal and Seyfi were just following orders, but what is Melo's excuse? It's unfortunate that the narrative pulled her into this. Ayfer may have her head in the sand, and not really care what Eda wants, but Melo does and she knew that Eda wanted to cooperate with Serkan and bring him into Kiraz's life, she knew that Eda was about 2 seconds from melting every time she was near Serkan, and that they were likely on the cusp of rekindling their relationship. There is no way she should have been complicit in trying to get evidence against Serkan or visiting lawyers behind Eda's back.

However, even after being complicit in Ayfer's nonsense, she still deserves a helluva lot better than Burak. That guy was annoying af this episode. What exactly does he think he's doing? I'm sorry, in that situation you step back and give the people going through such a monumental life change some space. Again, it's not like it needs to be forever, but you don't try and monopolize the kid's time the night of and 2 days after she meets her long-lost father. He needs to fuck all he way off.

Also since Eda had no interest in this guy, why is he coming over to tuck in the kid EVERY night? I get that he's been good to Kiraz and they have a nice relationship, but that's soooo overkill, it's just not normal. Especially since they've said they've only been living there a year. The only reason for a dude to revolve his entire life around a kid like that is because he's actively trying to get in the mom's pants. So when it comes to Burak's intentions, Eda is as dense as Serkan used to be with Balca/Selin/Actress. Burak only took that level of interest and inserted himself into their lives because he wanted Eda, and Eda should realize that and have a frank conversation with him. Eda doesn't even have to be cognizant that she will inevitably get back together with Serkan, she already knows she has no interest in Burak. She should tell him. And if she's already told him (which it seems she might have from her comments to Ayfer and Melo) she should put some boundaries in place because his presence was ridiculous.

It still blows my mind that this sad sack thinks he has a shot with Eda. Seriously, while the dude isn't hideous, he's also not attractive and he has the personality of dead grass coupled with the charisma of warm mayonnaise. He's not worthy of either Eda or Melo. The scene of Melo and Burak walking on the beach made me a bit uncomfortable. They're totally setting that relationship up, but so far all we see is Melo obviously harboring feelings for him as Burak broods over his Eda delusions. We'll have to see how this plays out, but I feel like Burak didn't need to be this upset over Eda for the story to work, and it would be a lot easier to root for him with Melo if by episode 5 if he wasn't still actively trying, as Engin said, to take over Serkan's family.

On to Edser and the newly forming Bolat family unit. It's funny, I'm not someone who thinks a woman needs to take her husband's last name, I think people should do whatever they want, but for whatever reason I really, really want Eda and Kiraz to have his name. Maybe because I think they all crave having people to belong to in a sense. Serkan because he was unloved and sent overseas alone at such a young age, Eda because she was an orphan, Kiraz because she didn't have a dad in early childhood. So for that reason, I really do feel like it will be meaningful to have them tied together that way as a family unit. They belong to each other now (or they will soon).

Along those lines, you say you're not sure why Kiraz isn't calling him Baba, narratively, I think it's because that will be a big milestone in their relationship. When she feels comfortable enough, connected enough, and secure enough with him to do that, it's going to melt all of our hearts right out of our chests. If she'd done it right away it wouldn't feel as special as it's going to feel when it eventually happens because she feels it (not just because it's a fact).

As for her calling him Serkan Bolat, I think it's adorable. That's how she knew him before, it would be weird if she called him anything other than that or Baba, (like Serkan or Abi) because then it would be like she was settling on that, but calling him by his full name, which is such a part of his identity, is cute and charming and pays tribute to the interactions they had before they knew of their relationship, and it's a signal that it's only temporary. Baba is coming, don't worry.

Loved Kiraz showing Serkan her room and all of her things, and really loved Eda standing there, smiling, soaking it in. I've seen a lot of criticism of Eda in this episode and she did have a few moments that were unnecessarily harsh, but I think it's also valid to give her a minute to adjust because this is a lot of change in just a couple of days. While she now knows Serkan had understandable, and even noble, reasons for what he did and said, that still doesn't erase the heartbreak and pain he put her through, or the 5 years of being a single mother and not having anyone to consult or needing to consult anyone on decisions regarding Kiraz.

I do think, though, that we didn't see Eda give him enough credit when he covered for her lies to Kiraz. When Kiraz asked her why she didn't tell her Serkan Bolat was her father and then asked him when mom didn't answer, he could have easily told the truth and thrown Eda under the bus, big time, but instead he comes up with something that passes as an explanation, doesn't make anyone a villain, but also doesn't make him look great. I wish we'd seen Eda recognize that. It was a magnanimous gesture on his part, since he and Kiraz were the ones who were lied to for 5 years.

However, her running a bit hot and cold this episode makes sense. On one hand when she's around him her heart feels that strong orbital pull towards him. She loves him. She always has loved him, she always will love him. Just like with Serkan, that will not change, and obviously didn't after heartbreak and separation. But it also makes sense that at times her head takes over and with it the fear and the memory of the pain and she freezes up a bit. It doesn't ding her or their love, she just needs time to let herself believe that this is really happening. That Serkan is back, that he still loves her, that he loves their daughter and wants to be a father and form a family. From the way she recorded those videos, how many times do we think she dreamed of them being a happy family together? I'm guessing a lot. Now it's within her grasp and I think she just needs to be sure that Serkan is for real before she fully succumbs to this dream.

She also needs to get over her pride, I'm sure there's a part of her (Ayfer's voice) telling her a woman doesn't go back to a man who hurt her that badly. But as we saw, girlfriend was snuggling with his shirt, she still has it so bad for him. But, pro tip, Eda, he wanted to stay the night, wouldn't it be so much more fulfilling to snuggle with the real thing? I promise it would... just let him in. The lawn scene was hilarious. Kerem is really and truly a gifted physical comedian. We know how tight the timelines are on this show and they don't get to do a lot of takes, but his stumbling over the furniture and falling was flawlessly done. Hande was great too... that bat! Of course the sexual tension in the robes and towel scene was magnificent. When she first walked in wearing that towell I thought my man was going to combust. That look on his face, priceless.

Speaking of priceless, what first-day Baba makes his little girl's dreams come true like Serkan Bolat does? Staying up all night to build her flying house? MY HEART!

What a fantastic first gift. It was incredibly thoughtful, it was meaningful to the two of them, and it was also Serkan giving a piece of himself (using his skills in what he does best as an architect) to her.

Absolute perfection.

And how sweet that Serkan wanted to spend the day with her alone!?! I really liked that because we all know he loves Eda, he wants Eda back, and he will use any excuse to spend time with Eda. And he could have done that here, but he doesn't. So the fact that he wanted to spend the day alone with Kiraz, clearly illustrates that his interest in Kiraz, his desire to be her father stands on it's own. Kiraz is not just an excuse to get close to Eda, he is pursuing both relationships, and they are both important to him.

Also you said that you have mixed emotions on the way Eda spied on Serkan, that she doesn't trust him, but honestly I really don't think it's about that. She might have been a little discombobulated by the idea because the man has never really spent any time with children and here he's thrust into fatherhood, but she trusts him and knows Kiraz is safe with him. Honestly, I think her biggest driving factor in following them is FOMO.

She doesn't want to miss this! She has wondered what kind of father he might be for years, and now she wants to witness it. She wants to be there and see what he's like when he's spending time with her. She also wants to be a part of it, and a part of her might be a little jealous. For years she's been the only parent, and now another parental bond is forming and it's natural she is curious what that's going to look like.

Melo even sees through her during their conversations while they're out spying. Eda pretends it's because she's worried that Serkan doesn't know what he's doing, but Melo susses out that it's really because she missed Serkan. I think she really just wanted to be a part of it.

And her ulterior motives are exposed when she reacts with jealousy over the park moms and then with Hulya. She's jealous over Serkan, but also over what it might mean if Serkan had a woman in his life that's not Eda. (Real simple way to ensure that doesn't happen, Eda, just saying). On first watch it was a little frustrating to watch Eda be upset about Huyla and not have it cleared up immediately. However, on the second time through I found it incredibly enjoyable to watch. Hilarious even. Knowing that Serkan is going to let her off the hook just a few minutes later, and it's not going to be a drawn out misunderstanding, it's very fun to watch him just totally bask in her jealousy. The way he sits there and giggles and is just so chuffed at her display was very endearing. Since he's been celibate for 5 years, I suppose he's earned an incrediulous laugh at her thinking he has all these women on the line.

Eda is not wrong to be concerned about the Bolat's ability to spoil Kiraz with material things, Aydan can get out of control, however I can't be mad at the pony. The girl asked him if he had horses the first day they met, she said she wanted a dad like Serkan who had horses, he HAD to get her one she could actually ride! The girl was deprived of her father for 5 years because both of her parents are stubborn, so, let's be real, she kinda deserves a pony. Besides Eda should be more worried about the "spoiling" she gets from her camp, where she, Ayfer, Melo and Burak let her get away with constantly running away/running wild, eating ice cream whenever she wants, being rude to strangers etc. The fact that she's taught it's okay to knock a customer's water over without apologizing is more damaging to a forming personality than a pony. (Yes, that was another dig at Burak.) The point is, spoiling isn't only about material things, and from the glimpses we've seen of Baba Serkan he's already taught her about taking responsibility (confessing to breaking the window and apologizing), being self sufficient (tying shoelaces, putting pjs on herself), and setting behavioral boundaries (don't shoot arrows at people in hotels, you shouldn't hug strangers). He's going to be a very good influence in her life, because despite growing up with material privilege the man believes in hard work, effort and personal accountability.

Anyway, loved that when Serkan told Eda about dinner with Engin/Piril/Can she looked so secretly pleased when she casually agreed to go. I think that goes hand in hand with why she was spying, she won't let herself admit it, but she so badly wants them to do things as a family. That was part of her tug o' war this episode. Wanting that, but then suddenly worrying that maybe she shouldn't want that after everything that's happened, those feelings are helped along by Ayfer's judgemental looks and comments, and Burak trying to assert his place and Eda maybe feeling guilty.

Eda's behavior at dinner perfectly summarized the war going on between her head and heart this episode. First she fights with Serkan, going so far as to tell him she hates him, but the second she gets good news she flings herself into his arms. He's the person she wants to celebrate with, he's the person she wants congratulations from. So even if she was mad at him, she can't help herself. Also thank you Engin for telling Eda how Serkan lost weight and didn't come to work for months after she left. Those are important things for her to know. Also reinforced later by Aydan.

And thank you, Jan, for planting that fear of her dad leaving again with Kiraz, because it gave us sleep over at the Bolat house. It also gave us Kiraz asking Serkan if he will leave her. A good question and I'm glad we have Serkan's promise to never leave her. Just with the way tragedy (and meddling family members and obsessed stalkers) seems to find both Eda and Serkan, it's good he's made that promise. And it's good that he knows she needs that promise.

Now onto the secret room. I suppose if you're going to keep all of that and you have a large house, then you might as well keep it in a special room. This was a huge missing piece for Eda. Something tangible that she can see with her own two eyes that proves that he never forgot her and has been pining for her since the day they parted. I thought Eda was suitably touched by it all, and the fact that he got her gifts for every birthday. Anyone else think that they're going to get married on the beach and she's going to wear those flip-flops, that white dress, and the locket when they do? That's what sprung to my mind. The Neslihan scarf product placement made me roll my eyes, though.

To be honest I really didn't care what the gifts were, all I cared about was that thank you cheek kiss. I DIE. The birthday-present-thank-you cheek kiss he gave her in 7 is one of my all time favorite scenes and this parallel was a long time coming and wonderfully executed. And then they delivered on the USTy stare off where they clearly want to make out, but they're not quite there yet. It was going to have to be Eda that broke them out of it, because up to Serkan they either kiss or he stares at her for the rest of time.

Did anyone else feel a crick in their back, neck, legs at how Eda slept on that couch? Serkan was as comfy as can be, stretched out using her legs as a pillow and her torso as a blanket, lol. I wish the editors would have given us a couple of more seconds lingering on them all contorted like that. It was too precious. It would have been sweet if they'd had Kiraz find them and watch them for a minute before waking them up. Show the parent-trapping gears turning in her mind.

Buba absolutely deserved Serkan showing up to spoil his outing. And of course both ladies instantly gravitated to Serkan. I liked this scene because it gave us over-the-top BDE Serkan, a whiff of "Drain the pool" Serkan, the comedy of Engin and Serkan doing the Cyrano thing, and the obvious little "fish" measuring metaphor. But what I really liked was Eda telling him that he didn't need to try so hard to win Kiraz, that he just had to be himself. That was important and lovely, and illustrated to him that she really did want him to develop a good relationship with Kiraz.

The best moments of the episode for them, though, came during their family stargazing outing. Loved Serkan's extra safety precautions, including the mirror just so he can see her in the backseat. Though, if he's that concerned about it, maybe a larger car, lmao? Kiraz tricking them into kissing was an auspicious start to the evening, hopefully that's a taste of things to come. I'm here for her forcing the two of them into intimate situations.

The way Serkan was looking at the two of them throughout the stargazing was something else. He was looking at them with such longing. Like he couldn't believe they were so close, but he wanted them so badly. DUDE, they are right there, continue to play your cards right (and not let Ayfer and Aydan spoil things, spoiler alert, they do) and you're just days away from having everything you want. Loved that he changed the Apollo story to give it the happy ending he wants. Hopefully, that gave hope to any doomsdayers out there that think this show is going to end in tragedy. (Spoiler alert, it's not).

The only shame is that they have that nice (if not detached from reality conversation since they pretend they're not going to be together raising Kiraz) adult conversation about cooperating and working out how they're going to deal with Aydan and Ayfer, only for things to go totally off the rails during said conversations. As I said off the top of this marathon post, it was totally unbelievable in the context of the rest of the episode, but as I always say you can't take this show too seriously, and I prefer to just enjoy the situations as they come and not get too annoyed when they take these writing shortcuts to drive the plot. I plan on very much enjoying Eda and Serkan forced to live together while they're (or at least she) is still pretending they're not going to end up together. Looks like next week is another fun romcom romp, and I'm here for it!

#Sen Çal Kapımı #sen cal kapimi #edser #serkan bolat #eda yildiz #serkan x eda #sck episode discussion #edser discussion #sckask #sck 2x44 #sck 2x05 #asklizac #you knock on my door #love is in the air #anonymous

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salmonthestoryteller · 3 years ago

Text

Shannara Chronicles

So I finished both seasons of the Shannara Chronicles. Love season 1, mixed feelings on season 2. Spoilers ahead!

I did grow up reading the books, but it’s been forever since I read them. So overall that didn’t affect most of my opinions on the show. My one exception is I love Flick, and was unhappy about his lack of screen time or mention in season 1. I was super salty about Eventine not being the one to tell Wil that Flick fought in the war.

I was watching the episode going: “Wow, Eventine, you hear the name Ohmsford and don’t even ask about the man who went behind enemy lines to save your sorry ass during the war?? Wth, dude. Not cool.”

So I actually did appreciate getting more Flick in season 2, and Wil finally learning his uncle had fought in the war. The scenes between Bandon and Flick were well done, and even his death worked for me. Because Flick fought a war to stop the Warlock Lord, watched his beloved brother lose his mind after that war, and there was no way he wasn’t going to do everything in his power to prevent his return.

I will also say, I do feel that Bandon should have said “Flick was right”, not “Allanon was right” in his final scene. Not just because I’m a Flick fangirl, either. Flick was the last person to try to reach out to Bandon emotionally. I also would have accepted “Wil was right.” Because Wil was his friend in season one, so if he’s going to think about who he should have listened to in the end, it should have been the people who did try their best to help him and show they cared. And the facts are, Allanon never showed Bandon he truly cared. He admitted himself that this situation existed because he pushed Bandon too hard and didn’t think of what was best for him. Because he treated him like a tool to use and not a person. So I’m not fond of them giving Allanon that moment. It’s understandable Bandon wouldn’t want to listen to Allanon. But he should have listened to Wil and/or Flick. And that’s what he should have said when facing the truth.

I actually ended up liking Eretia/Wil/Amberle in season one. It starts out and you're like - oh, god another love triangle. And by the time they’re reaching Safehold, you're like - holy shit. Not a love triangle. This is totally poly, and I’m down for it. Of course, then Amberle becomes a tree, so… But I felt like it was still addressed in season 2. Wil is jealous that Amberle talked to Eretia and didn’t talk to him, Eretia calls out Mareth on her feelings for Wil while admitting she knows what it’s like to love him. The year apart has led Wil and Eretia on different paths and to different people, but they don’t write off their history, or their shared love of Amberle.

Okay, just insert all the squeeing about the Eretria/Lyria romance in season 2 here. Because it’s gorgeous. Their fights are understandable, but not for a moment do you not think they aren’t in love through every moment of it. I just wish they’d let Eretia keep Lyria’s ring. It’s made more than obvious she will return to her, so why have her return the ring? I am so disappointed in that choice.

On the flipside, what the heck was with the Ander/Catania romance in season 2? It made no sense. It did nothing for the plot. Let’s be serious here. Given that Catania was with Bandon in season 1 - is the very reason he is on the loose - and is probably a little traumatized over her boyfriend turning evil, and the love of Ander’s life - Diane, the woman he pined over for ten years, remember her? - just died last year, the idea that they suddenly fell so madly in love Ander would consider giving up a marriage of alliance for Catania is ridiculous.

Not to mention that Catania is killed so quickly it barely matters that they’re together anyway. On that note, why did we have to kill Catania exactly? It felt so pointless to murder her. I really hate deaths that are just for drama and not for plot. And before anyone says “they had to stop her from giving Eretia’s message to Ander”: So Edian had the chance to kidnap the woman the King of the Elves is supposed to be in love with to use as a hostage against him - which would make way more tactical sense - but chose to just kill her and offer a lame excuse even Ander didn’t believe? With geniuses like this as spies and leaders, it’s a wonder The Crimson is succeeding at anything.

Sorry, but the whole Ander/Catania thing felt like it was there because

“Women and Men can’t be friends”

“We can’t have the only couple kissing in season 2 be w/w”

And nobody is ever gonna convince me those aren’t the backwards opinions that made the writers put them together in season 2, as opposed to just having her be a friend and advisor. Ander could have hesitated over the marriage cuz he still isn’t over Diane’s death and Catania could have been like, “She’d understand. She’d want you to put our people first.” And they could have kidnapped her instead of killing her and then that would explain her presence in the Crimson stronghold when Bandon took over, rather than having the Warlock Lord raise her from the dead. Edian could still have given the excuse, “Catania left cuz she disapproved of the marriage.” And Ander could still have frozen and been like, “Wait, what? She encouraged me to accept the marriage.” Almost nothing would have changed by them not being a romance and not killing Catania. (Twice at that.)

(They could also have also just… not killed Diane in season one. Just saying…)

On the note of deaths that make no sense. Let’s talk about having Ander survive the battle against Dagda Mor, witness the death of pretty much his entire family and the woman he loved, only to have him killed in season two by an antagonist who dies an episode later. Purely for drama and audience pain. Not because it makes one spit of sense for the story.

Remember how Slanter only agrees to the alliance in season one because of Ander? Because Ander was willing to let him out of the prison he’d been kept in. To make the choice as a king that, despite Slanter killing the brother he loved so much, if he wanted this alliance - then he needed Slanter. He also was willing to respect Slanter’s culture when they found the dead gnomes. If Eventine had still been in charge, Slanter would have told him to go eff himself for asking for their help, but Ander had shown Slanter he had more depth and understanding and Slanter was willing to risk his people on him being the man he hoped he was. The evolution of their alliance and tentative friendship was a great story. And then they threw it away for what?

If they killed Ander so Eretia and Lyria could be together, first Ander already knew Lyria loved Eretia and this was strictly a political marriage so he wasn’t in the way in the first place. Second, they still didn’t end the season with them together, so what was the point?

The elven-gnome alliance exists for exactly two reasons and their names are Slanter and Ander. It is not going to hold with Ander dead. For that matter, the alliance with Leah will probably not hold with him dead either. Lyria is the daughter of the woman responsible for the death of the last known (Cuz nobody knows about Mareth) member of the elven royal family. (Queen Tamlin is a fascinating and complex character, but the truth remains Ander is dead because of her machinations). In a world that has been set up as misogynistic from episode one (Amberle wasn’t supposed to run the Gauntlet because she was a girl ringing any bells?) there is no way Lyria would be able to keep the peace under these circumstances. Not because she wouldn’t be a good queen, but because she was just handed a political nightmare.

That’s before considering that part of Ander’s story both in season one and the struggle with the Crimson in season 2 is because he had spent the last ten years avoiding his duties. He wasn’t taken seriously as king because of that. Um… Lyria has the same issue. She literally was “missing” for the last year and has a history of running away. She’s going to have the same struggles Ander had in getting her people to put their faith in her, let alone other kingdom’s people. Realistically, someone would rise up, seize the throne in Arborlon - probably go for Leah first before attacking the gnomes. Or possibly vice versa. Even if Ander had lived, he and Lyria would have still had a giant mess on their hands - killing him only makes this “Yay, party, everyone’s going to stick to the alliance this time” ending feel super unrealistic. Sigh.

In a lot of ways it would have made more sense to have the Crimson’s defeat be the end of season 2 and Bandon resurrect the Warlock Lord in the finale. Not bring the Warlock Lord back for - what? 2 episodes and defeat him? It made him look really weak by comparison to Dagda Mor, and that was a bit of a disappointment for me. He’s the Warlock Lord. His defeat should have taken a whole season. I guess considering we won’t get a season 3, I get why they made sure to wrap it up in season 2. At the same time though it feels rushed after the build up.

All and all, I still enjoyed the show a lot. And I would have come back for a third season if we’d gotten one.

#meta #salmon rants #the shannara chronicles

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jackdawyt · 4 years ago

Video

youtube

With no time to waste, we have a tremendous news update on Dragon Age 4’s current iteration known as “Morrison”, as many development secrets were revealed in BioWare’s brand-new hardcover book of “Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development.”

A lot of the questions that we’ve all been asking over the past few years, finally have an answer, all thanks to this book. I will be delving into all of the Dragon Age 4-related content in this book; however, I wholeheartedly advise you pick up the book for yourself because it is filled to the brim with insights, information and behind-the-scenes reveals on every BioWare game to this date.

It’s full of so many captivating, inspiring and amazing stories that showcase BioWare’s incredible journey over the past 25 years.

In any regard, we’ve got a lot to get into, so leaving no stone unturned, we’ve got some updates regarding Dragon Age: Morrison, the current-rebooted project code name of the next Dragon Age game.

Morrison:

Along with this amazing retro-styled font of Morrison’s code name - that I’m totally going to use in future videos and thumbnails - we actually have a small plot synopsis on this working title.

It reads as followed: “Tevinter Bound – a sneak peek at the follow-up to Inquisition.”

“As BioWare entered its twenty-fifth year, the Dragon Age team was hard at work on Morrison, the code name of the long-awaited follow-up to Dragon Age: Inquisition. The game, helmed by executive producer Mark Darrah, will take players to Tevinter as events of Inquisition and Trespasser threaten to forever change Thedas.”

We’re going to Tevinter! Of course, we already knew that based on Trespasser’s ending, Tevinter Nights, and the developers already hinting that, but it is still very nice to see hear that in a plot outline.

In addition, the most interesting factor about this synopsis, is that for the first time BioWare have confirmed that “Morrison” is indeed the code name for the current Dragon Age project, which outrightly confirms that Jason Scheirer’s Kotaku article on “The Past & Present of Dragon Age 4” carries merit and truth to it, meaning that we can indeed trust the entire contents of Jason’s article.

Regardless, sticking with the 80’s retro theme, BioWare staff have themed shirts for the project, and they look absolutely amazing. Please, BioWare Gear Store release these one day, if at all possible, these designs are so good!

The book then goes on to show very familiar concept art that was showcased within the Gamescom behind-the-scenes trailer, however, this time, we have actual descriptions on each of the art pieces, and what they’re portraying. So, we don’t need to spend another 40 minutes speculating about what the pieces could show.

The underwater shot which we assumed to be Isabela accompanied by what looks like Dorian with a sword, an undead and a female dwarf, appears to showcase the Lords of Fortune, a newly-introduced faction within Tevinter Nights.

The synopsis says:

“Where there’s treasure, there’s adventurers braving death to get it. The Lords of Fortune are always on the hunt for treasure-wherever it may be.”

The next shot, which I speculated it as Tevinter’s capital city Minrathous, has a synopsis that says:

“The glittering hubs of Thedas are beacons of civilization and bulwarks against the night.”

Following that, we have the mysterious Antivan Crow lady concept art with the synopsis:

“The Antivan Crows have perfected theatrical assassinations. The Antivan Crows are celebrated for their mastery of stylish slaying.”

And then we have a most recognisable mural, one that many of us have spent way too long staring at, tinfoiling over its endless possibilities. The synopsis of The Dread Wolf Rises concept piece says:

“One of Nick Thornborrow’s beautiful paintings showing an old friend with a shadowy threat!”

Following that, we have Nevarra’s undead operating on a dragon, with the synopsis saying:

“From their Necropolis, the Mourn Watch guard Thedas from occult threats”

And then we have – hold on, what’s this, a new piece of concept art? Roll on the tinfoil, I’ll read the synopsis first and then we can go from there, as it states:

“The Deep Roads teem with evils both new and old, known and unknowable.”

I won’t spend ages delving into a single piece of concept art, but we can see the Deep Roads with plenty of light coming from the surface. It’s a beautiful shot, that I’m sure is building a mood for potential locations in the next game.

The final concept art piece shown is one from the trailer, however, it’s not cut-off anymore. When it once looked like an evil Cetus, it now reveals something even more wicked than a sea dragon... A figure with multiple arms, red eyes, a curved headpiece, holding a spear. Is this an ancient God? Could it be Ghilan’nain? A Lovecraftian sea-hybrid-monster? Or is it just a crazy idea thrown together by a concept artist, because why not?

The synopsis is the most intriguing and provides a further context for the next Dragon Age game:

“The Evil Gods have Thedas in their sights and only heroes can stop them. The shadows of the past stir, and new heroes must rise to fight them.”

There are many “gods” in Dragon Age, the Old Gods, the Elven Gods, the Maker, the Titans, etc. You could certainly consider each of them to be evil too, but on a whim, with the whole “shadows of the past stir.” I’m sure this synopsis is referring to the Elven Gods, given Solas’s scheme that will return the Evanuris to Thedas once more.

Taking my tinfoil hat off for a moment, this book expertly describes concept art stages relating to BioWare, and I need to touch on what exactly these pieces could mean going forward, because they most certainly could just be conceptual drawings without much context for the next game.

The book quotes Dragon Age 2’s development regarding concept art, saying:

“In the early stages of any project, before the concept artists are aware of any writing, they like to just draw what they think cool story moments could be. It’s not unusual for the team to then be inspired by those drawings and fold them into the game as the project progresses.”

And, even further than that, Matt Rhodes, who is the Art Director of the next Dragon Age spoke a few words regarding Dragon Age: Inquisition’s conceptual art stages:

“As multiple teams worked on their corners of Inquisition, lead concept artist Matt Rhodes spent weeks creating images to help solidify and drive a vision of what the game could be.”

“It was partly to encourage and remind myself of what the potential of this project could be,” Matt says. “We all imagine the finished game. I wanted to get that on paper, to remind everyone we are making something that could be pretty cool.”

So, while we’re all so excited to see these amazing concept designs and imagery, and we love to correlate it all to the next game, remember that these designs are very early work building a vision for the next game, they’re just being used to represent what idealistically the developers would like the game to end up like, or what insane ideas the concept artists have for the game.

Many of these ideas won’t turn out in the final product, but it’s still so nice to see this work already.

Wolf Rook Book:

Moving on, we can put an end to a five-year mystery, we finally have answers on that enigmatic red “Wolf-Rook" book that Mark Darrah has teased for half a decade.

One of my first ever videos on this channel was delving into the early pages of this book, back then I had a hunch that this book was the next Dragon Age game’s early concepts and designs, like a shiny development doc for the team.

And I was on the right tracks, as followed:

“The book was an internal guide for developer and publisher eyes only that summarized the vision for Dragon Age: Inquisition’s follow-up, a project code-named Joplin. The Joplin project has since been revised to such an extent that its code name changed to Morrison, but the red book still contains plenty of ideas likely to appear in the next Dragon Age. While most pages remain highly classified, here are a few Mark said we can publish.”

There’s a small description of The Qunari with some other concept shots, the paragraph reads as followed:

“The Qunari are followers of a religious text of principles known as the Qun. Though Qunari may be of any race, most are part of a race of large humanoids with horns.”

“For ages the Qunari have proven a formidable opponent to the rest of Thedas, almost conquering the continent until a united force of every Chantry nation pushed them back into a tense stalemate. Recent events have reignited the Qunari offensive, however, and their forces are in open conflict with the Tevinter Imperium, while their spies and agents are active in every nation.”

And at the bottom we have a Creatures double-spread page with different concepts very similar to those seen in Inquisition, the paragraph reads as followed:

“Animals, monsters and misplaced magical experiments: creatures stir apart from the conflicts and machinations flowing across the continent. Creatures range from the lowly nug up to the ultimate apex predator, the dragon. The next Dragon Age will feature our widest and most varied set of creatures to date. While often quite simple in implementation, creatures provide variety through differentiated animation and appearance.”

So, “Wolf-Rook” is still relevant, somewhat confirming that the work that went into Joplin, may cross over into Morrison, which is very exciting because Joplin’s vision for a Dragon Age title sounded amazing, so to hear aspects of that work pouring into this new project is absolutely fabulous. I had a hunch that the red book was still valuable to the current project, because we’ve seen a lot of “Wolf-Rook” teased this year, Mark Darrah has not stopped showing off his stash of red books. So, I’m very glad it’s here to stay for the current iteration.

Dragon Age Week:

Next up, we have an update to a story I talked about in March of this year, Mark Darrah teased a picture of his laptop with the BioWare Slack server shown at the bottom of his screen.

One of the channel-titles within the server was one by the name of “DA Week”, and thanks to this book, we know what “Dragon Age Week” actually is:

“Dragon Age Week is a five-day period during which members of the Dragon Age team can pursue creative projects that in some way benefit Dragon Age. The work done during DA Week, and its erstwhile cousin DA Fridays, sometimes found its way into releases.”

“The giants in Inquisition came out of a Dragon Age Week,” executive producer Mark Darrah says. “We also had a board game made that we were going to put into Inquisition, but we just didn’t have time to. It’s referenced. It’s a dwarven chess.”

So, I do wonder what kind of ideas have come out of Dragon Age Week recently that has then ended up in the next Dragon Age. Hopefully, one day we’ll have a new book that tells us Dragon Age 4’s secrets and we can visit this topic.

New BioWare Vision:

Moving on to the final major update, thanks to this book, we have a greater understanding about the vision BioWare have going forward. According to General Manager, Casey Hudson and Dragon Age, Narrative Director, John Epler.

Casey Hudson spoke on the “old” BioWare and how their changing paths to a “newer” BioWare:

“We can’t go back to where we’ve been,” Casey Hudson says, now the studio’s general manager. “The way that we worked, all of those stories and the crunch and eating pizza for six weeks straight and all that kind of stuff, as fun and memorable as it was at the time, those things won’t work for where we’re going.”

As BioWare grows, Casey says it must learn better ways to work while still embodying the values laid out by Drs. Ray Muzyka and Greg Zeschuk.

“It starts with the ones that were there at the very beginning with Greg and Ray of humility and integrity,” he says, “Those are super important.”

Other pillars include a passion for excellence and courageous creativity.

“We used to exemplify this not because we were courageous, but because we didn’t know better. We would try things and fail and try something else until we got it right, and it was very experimental. But what can happen is, once you do know the consequences of failure, you can very easily start retreating. And at that point, it actually does take courage to put yourself out there and try something new.”

Casey says. “We’re not super young and inexperienced anymore. We do know better, but we still have to try and do some crazy stuff anyway.”

John Epler shared on the change going on within BioWare:

“I am excited for what the future holds. I think BioWare is changing. I think we’re at a crossroads where we can either accept that and move into the new BioWare, or we can try to cling to the past. We have to be respectful of our origins without being constrained by them. It’s an exciting time and I’m really looking forward to what the next five years brings.”

“’I’m one of those people who is probably going to be here until they have to literally wheel my desiccated corpse out of the building, because I love working here and I love the people I work with and I love getting to come into work every day to have long, detailed conversations about how eluvians work.”

All in all, I’m incredibly excited and optimistic for BioWare’s future, they’re aware of their flaws, while knowing what makes them great. They seek to humble themselves, while changing direction, they want to avoid crunch while being experimental. I think we’re going to see the company bloom when they inevitably release the next Dragon Age, and I am totally here for that.

Dragon Age Day

Before I leave you, Dragon Age Day is quickly approaching, and it seems BioWare have plans this year. EA Community Manager, Jay Ingram tweeted about fans asking questions for the Dragon Age team, in prep for plans on Dragon Age Day. I’ll link the tweet down below, so you can ask as many questions as you’d like! It seems that BioWare may stream on Dragon Age Day, so do watch out for that, and give them a follow on their Twitch, also linked down below:

https://twitter.com/JayKingIngram/status/1325197450907275264

https://www.twitch.tv/bioware

Regardless, this is where we part ways. There was so much that this book uncovered, I highly recommended picking It up for yourself, it’s truly worth it to any BioWare fan. There was also some future Mass Effect stuff, but I’m saving that for a future video that I’ll do at the start of the new year. And I most likely will do future videos on other topics revealed in this book.

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refinedbuffoonery · 4 years ago

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I + Can’t + Lose + You (3)

Read it on A03.

Filler chapters are so hard to write, y’all, so this chapter is real short. The next update will get back to the actual plot, so you’ll get to see Riley and Mama Colton in action. Thank you to all the people who hyped me up to write this one. Your support is invaluable. I love you. :)

*****

Riley and Mama were in the absolute middle of nowhere when the last radio station died. They hadn’t seen any signs of civilization for two hours, and it would be at least two more before they reached Phoenix. Periodically, a car drove by or a tumbleweed rolled across the road, but seeing anything else out the window was asking too much.

Riley let her mind wander as she drove down the long, straight road; now was as good of a time as ever to think through the software she’d spent the week debugging. She’d fixed most of the issues, but the solution to one last error dangled just out of reach.

Heat waves rippled off the road, and Riley snapped her attention back to driving, squinting slightly to see through the wavy mirage.

Mama turned down the volume—just static now anyway. “I’m sorry for the way my son treated you. You certainly did not deserve it.”

Well that was unexpected. Riley appreciated her words, even though she was long over Billy Colton.

“Is there a new man in your life?” Mama asked. Riley blushed, just slightly. “So there is,” she said knowingly. The woman didn’t miss a thing. “Well, who is he?”

Smiling to herself, Riley let her biggest secret spill. “He’s Mac.”

There it was.

She finally admitted it aloud to someone other than Mac, and even that confession didn’t cover the full scope of her feelings. Bozer had figured it out forever ago, but it wasn’t the same as her actually telling someone. A weight lifted off her chest.

“MacGyver.” Mama said his name in that rolling, overly-Southern way she always did. “A lucky man. What makes him so special?”

For some reason, Riley felt safe sharing with Mama, so she did. “He wants to make the world a better place,” she said. “He’s selfless, he doesn’t have an evil bone in his body, and he’s the smartest person I’ve ever met.” She glanced at Mama before continuing. “Mac makes me want to be better. To do good. I—” her words died in her throat.

Mama knew she’d been to prison but not the full story of what landed Riley there. Riley didn’t feel like rehashing the parts of her past she’d rather not think about.

“Go on,” Mama murmured.

Riley flexed her fingers around the steering wheel. “I wasn’t always that way.” That was all she was willing to say on that matter.

“I see. I don’t know who you were before”—before you went to prison, she didn’t need to say—“but the woman driving my truck is a fine human being.” Mama cracked a grin. “You should really meet her.”

Riley snorted. “I should, should I?”

They passed the time in peaceful silence. Riley figured the older woman had fallen asleep, but not long after passing a sign reading sixty miles until Phoenix, she drawled, “Do you trust him?”

Riley frowned at the context-less question. “Trust who?”

Mama shot her an exasperated “who else?” look. “MacGyver! Who else would we be talking about?”

Oh. Riley answered, “I trust him completely.” She’d trusted him from the moment he picked the locks on her handcuffs all those years ago.

“Good. Now, does he trust you?”

Apparently this car ride was now an interrogation. “Yeah.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.” Of course she loved him...how could she not?

“Are you in love with him? Those are two very different things, you know.”

Riley did know. “Also yes.”

“And is he in love with you?”

Taking a deep breath of too-warm air, Riley said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I think so?”

Mama narrowed her eyes, evidently realizing Riley’s situation was more complicated than she let on. “What makes you so sure he’s the one for you?”

Riley paused before answering. She had to get this right. Not only to appease Mama, but to know, without a shadow of a doubt, herself.

“Because he’s always there for me,” Riley started. “When shit hits the fan, I can always count on Mac. As long as he’s around, I never have to face stuff alone, and I do the same for him. It’s us against the world, not me against him, you know?” Riley smiled. “I’ve never seen my life flash before my eyes more times than when I’m with him, but he’s somehow still the safest, most trustworthy person I know.”

Riley waited. And waited. And waited.

After taking far too long to think it over, Mama seemed satisfied with Riley’s answers. “I’m glad you found each other.”

*****

Mac needed gas, but with the truck in cruise control he could make it all the way to Indio before he had to stop. In the meantime, he couldn’t blast the radio loud enough to drown out the horrible what-if scenarios running through his head.

He would find Riley and bring her home. That much Mac had reassured himself about—at least enough to stave off the Riley-is-dead nightmare scenarios. He’d get there. Until then, she was plenty capable of holding her own.

But even when he did get her back...god they’d made such a mess. Ever since that damn undercover mission to Monte Carlo, Riley shied away from Mac’s touch. They used to be in each other’s personal space all the time, but now there were walls up between them that never existed before.

Mac wished Monte Carlo had never happened at all.

He hated everything about the way the confession happened—the screaming, blowing their covers, it piggybacking off other emotional trauma. Knowing she reciprocated his feelings was everything, but not when the cost was no relationship and a wide chasm between him and his best friend. He’d rather still not know and wait for the right time for a quiet, loving confession.

The truck dinged as the gas light came on. “Shut up. I know,” he groaned. A green sign read ten miles until Indio.

Are you sure we aren’t making a massive mistake?

We can’t do this.

Mac refused to believe they already blew their chance at happiness. They just needed to try again. At least neither of them had said, “I love you.” They still had that. When the right time finally came—a quiet night at his house, sitting by the firepit, watching the city lights below—they would try again, this time leading with soft expressions and those three little words.

He could try again. He would try again.

As Indio rolled into view, Mac turned off the freeway at the first gas station he saw. It was practically empty, so he started filling the tank and headed inside the convenience store in search of a snack.

He settled for a king-sized Reese’s and an iced green tea. Placing his snacks on the counter, Mac greeted the cashier with the standard, “Hey, how’s it going?” and was caught completely off guard when the scrawny teenage boy’s face lit up and he launched into a story about some pretty woman who fixed the security camera.

Following the kid’s gestures, Mac spied the camera in the far corner, lens smashed out and wiring sticking out the front. He walked deeper into the store to get a closer look. Whoever fixed it wired a cell phone camera into the camera hardware—exactly what he would’ve done.

Wait.

Mac whirled on the cashier. “Can you describe the woman who fixed that?”

The kid—Marco, his nametag read—frowned. “Uhh how do I know you’re not some creepy stalker or something?”

“If the woman who fixed that was the same woman I’m thinking of, I’m her best friend.”

“Just checking, dude!” The kid shrugged. “She was hot, man. Black hair, big eyes, Van Halen shirt. I think she was with her mom.”

Her mom? Mac filed that bit of information away for later, but that was Riley, alright. If she had time to fix a gas station security camera with pieces from her phone, then she was safe, at least for now. Mac breathed a sigh of relief. Her phone died because she broke it. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

Mac raced for his truck. The cashier called after him, but Mac couldn’t hear the kid’s words over the ones repeating in his mind. Riley’s safe.

Riley’s safe.

#beth writes #i+can't+lose+you #macgyver #macriley #macgyver fanfiction

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randombtsprincessa · 5 years ago

Text

Bankshot

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Min Yoongi x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 3.3k

Genre: Smut

Summary: Smut drabble for basketball player Yoongi because I’m weak. There’s a plot I swear.

Warning: Basketball player Yoongi, CUTE Yoongles, Giggly and blushing mess of Goongi because yeah, mentions of drunken sex, Yoongi is somewhat subby?, handjob, riding, fingering, protected sex.

A/N: This Yoongi is true to heart irl Yoongi. Fight me.

The senior league of BH basketball was one of the most prestigious, if not slightly overrated college competitions ever, in your opinion. It hosted a number of colleges, both big and small, challenging them into a championship that usually awarded the team with one giant trophy, a photo in the college and town newspaper and then…nada – except maybe something to add to a resume.

However, aside from your own apprehensions and less than pleasant thoughts on the subject, you dutifully went to support your team to each game, shouting and booing whenever necessary. It was a matter of pride, watching the red and white uniforms score a basket and the subsequent cheering.

You also went because if you didn’t, you would never hear the end of it from a certain Min Yoona. Not that she had any personal attachment to the game; it was more of a point of correlation. Her brother, Min Yoongi was the gem of the BH Basketball team and she always went to support her brother.

So, why did you have to go?

Well, because…

The team had won. Naturally, no one was very surprised. It was bound to happen, especially since the last ball had been passed to Yoongi and he had a perfect advantage.

Bank shot…his expertise…

You had dutifully sat next to Yoona as you watched her brother run across the gleaming wood, his shoes squeaking, adjusting his stance and then he was flying up. His powerful legs bent, lifting off and his arms shot straight forward, face intense as he, his team, the audience watched the ball sail, slicing through the air, missing an opponent’s fingers and slam into the backboard, before toppling right through the basket.

The crowd erupted.

Yoongi jumped again, his fist pumping in the air while his team swarmed around him. Hard slaps that echoed through the hall landed on his back and you politely followed Yoona, standing as she squealed loudly, bouncing in her boots.

“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” She asked later, leading you over to the after party, filled with the team and the opposition, celebrating together to show they had no hard feelings.

“Yeah, sure,” You spied a few members of the team hanging about, booze – duh – in their hands and some groupies – also, duh – hanging off of them.

“I can’t wait to see Yoongi, he was brilliant.” She squealed yet again and you turned a fond look at your friend. You slung an arm around her shoulder, squeezing slightly, “Let’s go find your brother.” You said, leading the way further in.

Once surrounded by the majority of the party, it wasn’t long before you and Yoona were separated. She was friends with a few other girls who (even though the maximum of them were old time conquests) were actually nice. You were on speaking terms with a few but you preferred hanging out with the team.

“Jungkook,” you called for the youngest, the only one unattached ironically – attention; his head swiveling in your direction. Baby teeth appeared in the front of his mouth as he gave you a beam. “Hey, I didn’t think you’d come.” He said.

“Yoona,” You explained and he nodded, taking a sip of his soda.

“She must be with Yoongi. Boy wouldn’t let any guy hover a mile near her.” He said, eyeing the crowd thoughtfully.

“What about you? Why aren’t you surrounded?” You asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Not all of us are like that, Y/N.” He confided, lowering his voice conspiratorially before looking at his glass. “I’m going to get another, you want one?”

He departed at the shake of your head, leaving you alone near the curtains as you pulled out your phone, scrolling through twitter and addressing a few social media notifications.

“And what are we doing alone?”

You had to flinch, looking about to see an uncomfortably familiar cheeky grin near about you. You looked back to the front quickly.

“Where’s your sister?” You asked instead.

He hummed, looking over the room before edging closer. “She’s about. I can’t keep an eye on her all the time.”

You scoffed. “Sure,”

Yoongi moved further into your private space. “She’s with Hoseok, Y/N. I left her in good hands and came to find you.” He dipped his head to your ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You turned your head barely to look at him, placing a hand to push away. “You’re drunk, Min.”

He whined immediately. “Nope, haven’t touched a drink; don’t want you to give me that bullshit ‘drunk’ excuse again.”

You hissed, turning around to see if anybody heard him. “Can you be any louder?”

Yoongi gave you a glowing grin, sending your heart fluttering for a split second. “Of course I can,” he leaned in conspiratorially. “If I had my way, I’d be shouting about it.”

You stared at him critically for a long moment, long enough for one of his team members to yell over for him and with one last look at you and a ‘think about it’, he was gone.

You didn’t watch him leave, instead slumping against the wall, thinking back to how when you’d first been introduced to Min Yoongi, you’d never thought it would go like that.

Endearingly shy and adorable, Yoongi had been the only player on the team who hadn’t hit on you in the initial stages. He’d grinned genially when Yoona had introduced you two, shaking your hand, looking you over like brothers do their sister’s friends and that had been that.

Cut to the day of Yoona’s birthday party, all purple and pastels and you’d sorely been the only one who had found the sight of Yoongi is a purple cone hat hilarious instead of insulting to his manhood. You’d complimented him, squished his cheeks making him grip your wrists to pull away from your hands and he’d given you a look.

You were drunk, of course you were and maybe it was all in your head but Yoongi’s eyes had had that come hither darkness and soon enough the both of you were crashing through the doors of his bedroom, knocking more than a few things off their rightful places.

He’d pushed you onto the bed, tugged off your clothes and made you feel all sorts of way that even now had you pressing your thighs together, biting your lip and shifting gazes around. What was done in that bedroom could and should never reach his sister, just in case she blurted it out in front of their parents…or the entire college.

Of course, when you’d tried to make it out the room without disturbing a dozing Yoongi, he’d lifted his head, eyeing you concernedly. Concern that was ridiculous on his part; after all, you were just his younger sister’s friend.

So imagine your confusion and dawning awkwardness when Yoongi – slightly miffed from your stupid excuse of being too drunk to realize what you were doing with whom – had forwarded you a condition.

If he helped the team win three consecutive games, you’d agree to at least a date. You didn’t have to be a genius to know he meant a repeat of that night.

Maybe you were too drunk to realize your actions…because you agreed.

Or maybe it was the fact, that he was probably the best sex you’d ever had…

Or maybe Yoongi was cute…or whatever, you know…

Yoongi had won two games, each with the precise banks that he always used to his advantage. You had tried everything, hiding behind Yoona to publicly panicking.

Hiding behind Yoona was unsuccessful, seeing as Yoongi had casually spun a ball on his finger, whistling before yelling out a ‘Hey sis, hey there Y/N!”

You had cursed, avoiding Yoona’s questions about who you were hiding from because of course; it never occurred to her that it was Yoongi.

The next was when you’d hyperventilated and hid in the washrooms just after the second game, one where Yoongi, again lifted to the team shoulders had directly winked in your direction.

By god, he had scored another win tonight.

And he was going to collect the prize.

You stood to one side as the team filed out of the showers, steam following them along with mild chatter that usually is not associated with boys. A few glanced at you in passing, varying degrees of unbothered, mildly curious and blatant shock ranging through their faces as you sought the one you wanted.

Presently, Yoongi walked out as well, a simply white t-shirt covering his torso with jeans, a towel slung over his nape that he was rubbing his hair vigorously with.

“That’s bad for your scalp.” You noted drily, making him halt in his steps, his eyes roving over to yours.

“Y/N,” he frowned in confusion, looking about. “What are you doing here?”

You moved away from the wall towards him, “I wondered when you would collect your reward.” You crossed your arms across your chest.

“My reward,” his brow cleared, a giggle bubbling on his doll like lips. “You make me sound like some kid looking for candy.” He paused before reaching out, latching an arm around your waist and pulling you lightly to him. “Although; I do remember someone tasting better than candy,”

You bat at his chest, not pulling away however. “So, get on with it. I’m not going to wait forever.”

He let you go. “Patience, Y/N; It’s a date; I need to prepare something wow to impress you.” He pocketed his hands.

You tilted your head in acknowledgement before turning to walk away. You stopped near the corridor.

“You don’t need to go overboard to impress anyone Yoongi. Anybody would be lucky to date you.” You said, not looking at him and then vanishing from his sight.

Yoongi had seemed to have heard you. Within the week, you had a text from Yoongi, noting a date and time and a simple ‘dress casual’ for you to mull over. You had been careful to keep it from his sister, subtly asking him about what he had planned when all he did was just wink and ruffle his hair, acting too cute – a bit too cute.

So when you reached the lobby of your small apartment complex, his car already at the front, waiting for you; you were a little bit more that curious.

“I have something good planned, I promise.” He said, first thing, revving the engine and taking off, not uttering a word despite your best attempts.

“A…karaoke bar…?” You gave Yoongi your best side eye, watching his face flush crimson as he parked.

“Yep,” he replied, breezy even if the back of his neck probably burned. “I’m going to show you how it’s done. Prepare to bow down to a king.” He spread his arms in the cramped quarters of the front seat.

“I’m sure, cause’ I’ve never been to one of these.” You rolled your eyes, getting out after him.

You pressed Yoongi to the wall of your bedroom hallway, the small giggle that escaped him at the thud music to your ears; hands skimming over his torso while his lips returned to their place against yours. Your tongue slipped delicately past the seam, barely brushing inside as you drew a breathy moan from him.

This wasn’t in your plans. Bringing a man back to your place after the first date – no matter if you’ve already slept with him once – wasn’t something you partook in usually but this was a special occasion.

Yoongi’s eyes were screwed shut, a crowing sound escaping that doll like mouth as he hit a high note. The artist turned in their grave, weeping to their mothers but you smiled nonetheless, watching him with a hand covering it. You couldn’t let him see, he’d just be so smug.

Ok, so maybe Yoongi was cute.

Or maybe, you liked him as well…or whatever.

He finished the song with the grace of a Grammy winner, a flourish added to his bow while he eyed you wickedly as the scores counted.

He won – even with a singing voice that would’ve scared Lucifer – he was better than you. And that’s when you knew how the rest of your evening was about to go.

“Y/N, baby,” he whined, hands trying to grab at you as you left his mouth, your eyes drawing to where your hands were busy getting familiar with the map you’d traced once before. He allowed you to raise his shirt, warm palms against the cooler skin of his soft belly, the line of his sternum, the collarbones that were oh so sensitive and then off his head, landing in a pool at your feet.

You stepped back, lips dug in by teeth, looking at the sight Min Yoongi presented.

Newly bleached hair stood high, too pale skin painted delectable pink, soft bones visible in places. He was panting, his chest rising and falling quickly while his abs was tight in anticipation.

He was stunning and you swore you were going to make him yours.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, hands fumbling with the steering of his car.

“You’re cute, that’s why,” You answered simply, watching him jerk in surprise before pouting.

“I’m not cute.”

There was a pause before you laughed. “Sure,” you stretched out a hand, a thumb swiping over his lips, parting them. “You are.”

Yoongi slowed the car, till it was sitting in a spot nearest the door – you wondered if it was subconscious. He looked at you, thumb still stroking over his skin with a vulnerability that had you cooing.

“Y/N,” he managed to breathe before you were reaching out for the key, turning off the engine and winking when he stuttered a little.

“Come with me.”

“What do you want Yoongi?” You queried, pressing against him again, everywhere. Your warmth seeped into him and he nearly buckled when you slipped out the button of his jeans.

“I…”

“Hmm?”

He trailed off completely, eyes wide and glazed. His jeans were soon slid off, leaving him to stand there in just his underwear, an almost painful looking bulge very obvious.

“Yoongi…do you want to go to the bedroom?” You prompted and all you got in reply was a whimper. You kissed the tip of his nose, intertwining your fingers to tug him to the door and through it, flinging it shut after his entry.

Your room was modest compared to his, no trophies or certificates decorating the walls and shelves but Yoongi didn’t seem to care about the room. His eyes were fixed solely on you as you led to the bed and with both hands on his shoulders, pressed him to sit.

“Y/N,” He muttered again.

“Yes, Yoongi,”

He shifted, squirming and you smoothed a hand across his head, tilting it up with a soft grip on his hair. “It hurts,” he said and you sighed at his adorable round face.

“Then let me help,” you sank down to the rug at the base of the bed, looking at the problem Yoongi was trying not to palm. “Do you want me to?”

“God yes,” Yoongi threw his head back. “I’ve wanted to do this again for so long, you have no idea.” He raised his hips, hands nearly ripping the underwear off of him. The glorious cock of Min Yoongi stood proud, curving just so at the very tip, head shiny from arousal and flushed deeply.

“Please help. Please touch me.” He whispered, prompting you to wrap a hand around him, right at the head, palm slicking in his lust as you ran over his skin, making the slide easier.

You awed at the image. Yoongi had his head still thrown back, throat working as he bit back groans, while a few slipped past, lewd and turning you on at the same time.

“Undress me, Yoongi.” You said and his eyes opened, meeting yours excitedly. He smiled when you gave a quick turn to your wrist in answer to the silent question and then his hands were on you, legs spreading further to accommodate both your movements.

Eagerly, he undid the halter tie of your top, letting it fall to bare your torso to him. He impatiently bent further to unzip the skirt, loose and blowy and you thanked your stars for the choice when it slid off easily, tossed in some unnamed corner of your room.

You returned to your task with gusto, feeling the atmosphere of the room, the tension seep into your skin, electrifying it as Yoongi wrapped a hand under your breast, flicking over your nipple. Another giggle escaped him, making you look up in confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

“This…just this; I’ve been dreaming about you naked with me ever since that night and like…wow, this is so much better when it’s sober.”

You rolled your eyes, stopping the hand job and getting to your feet. You towered over the man, his eyes once again looking up at you like you held every answer to his every question.

“Why don’t you get comfortable then? I want to ride you.” You said. Yoongi visibly gulped hands confident as he reached for the fabric of your panties, slipping them off your legs and almost reverently let them rest on the floor. He moved back till his legs were straight on the bed and you followed, crawling over to him before you reached into your nightstand for protection.

Throwing your knees on either side of him, your grabbed the headboard over his shoulders as he rolled the condom over his length and lined up with you, allowing you to sink on him, slowly, drawing out the torture for him as he let out – finally – a loud groan of pure pleasure. His eyes fell shut; mouth wide open and his body slumped, lying under you. His hands lay at your thighs, twitching once in a while as you rolled your hips.

Once again, the feeling of having Min Yoongi fill you blinded you. The stretch was perfection, the weight of him, each ridge and vein, everything was hand crafted to fit you. You cupped your own breasts, kneading them to accompany the spikes of pleasure that were supplied by the man below. You close your eyes, tweaking at the hardened buds and stroking over the sides of the sensitive flesh when you felt another hand right there.

Your labia parted, a thumb pressing hard to the nub of nerves that sparked another fire, even more intense. Your eyes flew open, to the man below you. His eyes were on you as well, watching with a hazy fire in his them as he bucked his hips to meet yours.

Slowly, taking all the incentive you could from his gaze, you began to move, your hips rising and crashing down on his.

A sheen of sweat soon collected on both of your bodies, tight coils of emotion knotting in your stomach, matching the harsh grasp he had on your hips, your ankles, wrists, wherever he managed to latch on you to anchor his own pleasure.

You didn’t know how long you continued your love making, exploding once on top of him, again with him next to you and another with his fingers buried deep inside your battered core, as his own bliss made him waddle to the bathroom to dispose of the evidence.

He returned quickly, joining you under the thick duvet with both arms wrapped around you.

“That was some date.” He sighed finally when the slam of a door outside made you both jump, the glow of intimacy jarred.

You waited as footsteps moved about, Yoongi pressed tight to your back and then…

“Y/N, are you in? Whose clothes…”

It was Yoona!

You turned to give Yoongi a shocked stare, his own blinking in contemplation as to how to handle the situation until it was too late because Yoona was quick to scream.

“OH MY GOD YOONGI!”

#smutcentralnet #btsbookclub #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi #bts #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi scenario #bts scenario #bangtan smut

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago

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Bah Hiddleston | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon) | Chapter 1 | Change Of Plans

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon)

Summary: Tamra Harmon has no mind to mess with Christmas. All that talk about Christmas magic and the joy of the holidays is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. But will a chance encounter with perennial Christmas lover Tom Hiddleston change all that?

Warnings for story: smut, oral sex, implied smut, vaginal sex, light angst

Tamra was not sure how she got turned around, but somehow she ended up back at her terminal gate.

“How the fuck…” she whispered to herself as she huffed back the way she came.

She hit something hard and immovable with her shoulder.

“Ow!”

“So sorry. My apologies.” a male British voice cut through the din of Heathrow Airport. Tamra stared in front of her to find a tall man smiling back at her. His reddish blond hair hung loose around his face. “Um, apology accepted.”

He reached his arms out as if to steady her. “Everything in one piece?”

Tamra took a quick inventory and other than a dull ache in the offending shoulder, everything seemed as they should be. She nodded back to the man, whose smiled widened at her affirmation, his smile reaching the corners of his eyes.

“Baggage claim is that way.” He gestured down the corridor. “And Merry Christmas.”

He turned and left Tamra in the busy terminal. Whatever goodwill Tamra had for the handsome stranger dissipated with his parting words.

“Bah humbug.” she scowled as she hitched her purse back onto her shoulder.

She pushed through the holiday travelers, making her way to baggage claim. If Tamra saw the festive Christmas decor in the corridor, she did not acknowledge them with a smile or glance. She only cared to retrieve her luggage and head to her accommodations with minimal fuss and muss.

She located the right carousel where the man gestured, only adding to her irritation with him. After what seemed like an eternity, the belt started moving and bag popped out. Tamra shouldered to the front of the gathering crowd. With the skill of an experienced traveler, she plucked her suitcase and pulled the handle up. She headed out to the taxi stand.

Her frown deepened when she spied a line snaking in front of the terminal. With at least three switchbacks, Tamra huffed as she took her place at the end of the line.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

By the Tom got outside, his PA already retrieved his luggage and parked the car right out front. While Tom would not pull the “I’m a Celebrity” card regularly, he would always take advantage of the perk of not having to wait at the airport for a taxi. He appreciated the perk even more now, two weeks before Christmas. The driver put his bags into the boot of the car as Tom climbed into the back.

Tom let loose a sigh as he scanned the London cityscape in the window. It’s good to be home, he reflected. His latest project kept him away from several months filming in the States. Now with Christmas fast approaching, Tom relished the idea of relaxing and spending time with family over the holidays.

His head fell back onto the headrest and Tom closed his eyes as the car moved through traffic. He didn’t sleep well on the flight as turbulence kept him awake. He foresaw a nap once he got home and retrieved Bobby from the kennel. The car came to stop far too soon for Tom’s liking and he groaned as he unfolded himself to head up the stairs of his home. His phone rang as the door clicked behind him.

“Hello?”

“Tom, it’s Sarah.”

“Hey!” Tom’s voice softened at the sound of his older sister’s voice.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Not at all. I just got home. How are the boys?” Tom smiled at the thought of seeing his nephews in the next few days.

“A handful. About Christmas…” Sarah’s voice trailed off.

“What? You’re still coming, right? Mom has a whole thing planned.” His voice sounded more whiney than he expected, he blamed the lack of sleep.

“Yes we are still coming but it might be later than we planned. Yakov can’t get away until Christmas Day.”

Tom’s face fell. A big part of his Christmas plans included spending time at his mother’s house with his sisters and nieces and nephews.

“Really? But Mom has everything planned out.”

“I know that’s why I called her first to explain.” Tom felt Sarah wincing through the phone.

“And?” He pushed her.

“She agreed to put off the festivities until Boxing Day. Sorry little brother, but you are going to have hold off your preening like a big Hollywood star for a few more weeks.”

“Ha. Ha. Hilarious, Sarah. You missed your calling as a comedian.”

“And you missed yours as a good actor.”

“My Golden Globe says otherwise.”

“If you say so. Are you disappointed?”

“Yes but I understand. Besides it will give me more time to return your present.”

“Whatever, Tom. See you in two weeks. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Tom ended the call and dialed his mother. The two discussed the change in plans. After an intense back and forth, Dianna won out and Tom agreed to stay put until Boxing Day. Now he just needed to figure out how to pass the time.

Tamra arrived at her Airbnb exhausted. The line for a taxi took forever and the ride to her flat took even longer. Her flight from Orlando must have hit every bit of turbulence along the way. And that screaming child did not help matters.

She opened the door to the small Westminster flat just as her phone rang. She answered as she closed the door with her hip.

“Madeline, you traitor.”

“Please stop with the guilt trip. Not everyone is a Scrooge like you, Tams.”

“Not everyone also deserts their best friend to hang out with their new boyfriend’s family.” Tamra rolled her eyes.

“At Christmas.”

“Bah—”

“Don’t even start with that Bah Humbug bullshit. Most people actually enjoy Christmas.”

“Most people are saps.”

“Tamra, I just called to see if you got in safe and sound.”

“Rough and I got lost in Heathrow, some guy bumped into my shoulder, the taxi line moved at a snail’s pace.”

“So par for the course for you. You always find the worst in every situation. What about London? At Christmas?”

“What about it? It’s crowded and cold. The best part about this town is the history.”

“Says the museum curator.”

“Whole purpose of the trip.”

“Happy Holidays, Tamra.”

“Enjoy the boyfriend’s family, Mad.”

Tamra hung up the phone in an even worse mood than she started. There was not much that could make this day worse. Her phone rang again. The screen flashed her mother’s number. Tamra contemplated letting it go to voicemail but she would have to face the conversation on a different day and she did not want her mother to dampen her time in London.

“Hi, Mom!” Tamra feigned excitement.

“Tamra! How is London? Have you gone to Harrod’s? What about the Tower Bridge? How is Christmas over there?”

She held the phone away from her ear to shield herself from her mother’s shrill voice. “Mom I only landed two hours ago. I just got to my place. I have seen nothing and been nowhere.”

“But I bet it is magical there.”

“It’s London, Mom. Not Neverland.”

“But Christmas — “

“— is a sentimental tradition used for an excuse to support capitalism and Christianity.”

“Wow, way to suck the fun out of everything.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Well I just called to see how was your flight, sweetie. I’m sure you are exhausted.”

“Thanks for calling, Mom.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Her mother hung up and Tamra laid the phone down on the kitchen counter. 0 for 2, Tamra. Nice going, you just pissed off your best friend and your mother in the span of twenty minutes. She spent the next several minutes unpacking and taking a long shower to wash away the grime of travel. As she prepared to grab some groceries from down the street, she pulled a folded piece of paper from her purse. Her itinerary.

“Tomorrow the National Gallery and Afternoon Tea.” she commented as she smoothed the piece of paper as she placed it on the nightstand before heading out to the store.

After his morning run and espresso, Tom set out to the stores around Trafalgar Square for some shopping. He didn’t want to face the holidays crowds at the shops but his list only seem to grow with each passing moment. He said a silent prayer that if anyone recognized him they didn’t say a word. Before he realized, he skipped lunch and his stomach growled in protest. He spied a sign for Afternoon Tea at the National Gallery. He ducked into the building hoping they would have a table available.

Tamra made a quick breakfast at her flat before plotting out her route to get down to the National Gallery. She made sure she booked a place near a Tube Station and before long she found herself in front of the museum. Tamra spent all the morning and through lunch, losing herself in the galleries and anterooms. Her phone dinged; a reminder for Afternoon Tea at the Gallery. She made the reservation for her and Madeline but when Mads canceled last week, she called up the restaurant. They assured her they could accommodate the request.

Her stomach growled as she walked up to the entrance. The attendant sat Tamra at a table for two right by the window. Her seat gave a perfect view of Trafalgar Square. The Christmas tree dominated the view and Tamra huffed.

“Madam.” the attendant had returned.

“Yes?”

“There is a last minute seating request for one, do you mind if we seat them with you? We are booked.”

Tamra gazed across the packed room; not another empty seat anywhere to be seen. She nodded, and the girl hustled off to bring the stranger to the table. Tamra looked at the window again.

“It is a beautiful view.” a vaguely familiar voice rang out.

“I don’t ca…” Tamra turned to see the man from the airport. “You!”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “You recognize me?”

“Yes.” she hissed as Tom took the seat opposite from her. “You’re the guy from the airport who hit my shoulder!” her voice raised.

“How’s the war wound?”

“Sore, but thank you for asking. What are you doing here?”

Tom smiled. “Afternoon tea and enjoying the view of that lovely Christmas tree out the window.”

“Bah humbug.” Tamra muttered at the mention of Christmas.

“I beg your pardon?” Tom exclaimed, looking at Tamra with a look somewhere between disgust and shock.

Tamra looked him dead in the eye and leaned forward on her elbows. “You heard me. Bah. Humbug.” She popped the last syllable as she smirked at Tom, whose mouth dropped open.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #bah hiddleston

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kisskissbanggang · 5 years ago

Text

Standby pt. 5 -- The Finale

[30+ Min Read/10.2K Words – Bang Chan x Female Reader – Idol!AU – Half Plot, Half NSFW/Smut – Unresolved Pining, Soul Searching, Confrontation, Regrettable Situations, Rough Encounters, Role Reversal, Epilogue]

You felt cold as you half-heartedly browsed the racks of CDs, and it wasn't just because of the dumping rain outside. This wasn't anywhere near the list of things you wanted to do today, yet here you were. Chris had blandly explained Hyunjae promised to take him to the music store on the way to the studio, that he would only need a ride there since he could more safely get back by himself later that night. However, Hyunjae got called away to one of her hundreds of meetings, and you were reluctantly roped in. It was the only thing he’d said to you since you both came back to Seoul. The car ride had been painfully silent. Chris hadn't even worn headphones. He just stared out the window as you drove.

Chris’ browsing brought him closer down the aisle to you. You’d had enough. It’d been rough trying to navigate this chasm between you and you just wanted to see him put at ease.

“I'm sorry,” you said quietly, not looking up from the display as you browsed.

“You don't have to say that,” Chris replied coolly.

“What do you want me to say?” You prodded. Chris just flipped through CDs.

“I don't want you to say anything.”

A sigh sank heavily from your lips. “I just feel really bad--”

“That's fine,” Chris firmly snapped at you, “It's fine that you feel bad, because stringing me along like you have been doesn't feel very good for me either.”

“Stringing you along?!” You hated this. All of this. You hated Chris being hurt, but most of all you hated how confused you still were about everything. And now Chris would barely even look at you, let alone talk to you.

“Yeah,” Chris nodded enthusiastically, “I took all this time, stupidly thinking we were developing something, really putting myself out there like an idiot just because of what you said on the plane, and--”

You looked up to see what had made Chris stop mid-rant. The cameras were here. He sheepishly bit down his anger and engrossed himself in the CDs. Each plastic case clacking against each other made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It was prudent to always be on the lookout for cameras in public, so you should've still expected them even after there appeared to be none when you arrived. You tried to appear to be intently browsing the racks when an obnoxious voice came behind you.

“Can I see the happy couple?”

Oh god. Not this guy. You noticed Chris’ shoulders tense along with yours. This guy was awful, this balding frog of a man who was outsourced by a couple fansites to take pictures during school days. You both tried your hardest to focus on your shopping. The guy prodded up against you, only backing off when you shot him a glare.

“Awh, trouble in paradise?” The frog man laughed, still snapping pictures.

“Can you leave us alone, please?” You asked begrudgingly.

“What’s the matter?” The guy condescended, “is boyfriend Chan not getting you the CD you wanted?” This time, the awful man pulled on your sleeve, moving you out of the way to get a picture.

“Excuse me!” You sharply interjected, stepping back in his frame, “That was extremely rude of you. Please leave us alone.”

“Just a couple of pictures and I'll be out of your way,” he grumbled, elbowing you back to the side. A small crowd was gathering now, despite the distance they kept. You spied a couple of cell phones being whipped out, and the fire in your chest burned a little hotter.

“I really don’t think so--” you insisted, interrupted as Chris anxiously tugged on the loop of your backpack. Your feet remained planted firmly in place between the two men.

“Come on,” Chris murmured behind you, “walk away. It’s not worth it.”

“It really isn’t.” The photographer chuckled, now grabbing onto your arm.

“Let go,” you stiffly ordered, trying to sound as confident as you hoped you could be.

“Then move,” he challenged.

“You’re hurting me,” you warned.

“All the more reason to let me do my job.”

“Fine,” you replied curtly, gaining all the willpower you could, “you do your job, and I'll do mine.”

That was it. You were done. You weren’t dealing with this today -- or anymore, for that matter. Stepping forward, you stomped onto the photographer’s foot, grabbing his camera and shoving it back into his face until he tripped back onto the floor. Your ears perked at Chris’ sharp gasp and whispered string of curses behind you. You grabbed his hand and moved to step around the man, letting out a startled scream as he grabbed onto the leg of your jeans.

“Cheap move, you little bit--”

Chris stepped forward, getting an arm around you to pull you away. He grabbed ahold of your hand, yanking you back toward the rear exit and away from the assembled onlookers and their cell phones. He slammed open the back door of the store as the photographer got up to his feet and barreled after you. Thankfully the company car was nearby, having chosen to park out of direct view of the street behind the store. You sprinted around and dove into the driver side of the car while Chris scrambled into the passenger seat, your sweating fingers fumbling with the keys as the frog man caught up and attempted to pull the handle. You screamed again, quickly sorting through the keys as Chris reached across you and locked the door. There practically seemed to be three times as many keys as you guessed were necessary. Finally, you got a firm hold of the right key and stabbed it into the ignition. Exhaust spilled out from behind the car as you punched the gas, peeling out of the back parking lot and leaving the photographer in your wake.

“Why did you get involved?!” You asked Chris, still breathing hard in all the adrenaline as you drove.

“Me?! Why did you even start it?!” He shot back at you.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you let out a crazed laugh, “not all of us are insistent on being so congenial and noble at all times.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I'm not someone who’s going to let people walk all over me just so I can look good.”

“You sure are lucky to have that privilege, aren’t you?” Chris slouched down in the passenger seat, flushed from his anger. “I mean, be condescending all you want, but it works. The pictures speak for themselves. Stay can always tell when I'm not having a good time, even when I wish they couldn’t.” You bit your lip, noticing him fiddling with his fingers and clearly preoccupied with something. The car ride was silent after that, up until you pulled up to the studio. Chris wordlessly opened the door and shouldered his bag. The need to say something, anything, was eating at you as he turned to walk inside.

“Chris--”

“What?” He asked bluntly, pausing, his hand still about to swing the passenger door shut. He looked so thoroughly exhausted.

“I'm sorry.”

Chris shrugged. “You couldn't help it.” He looked at you now, really looking at you for the first time in days. Surely, he must've seen how hurt and lost you looked as he shut the door and walked away.

Your drive back to the dorm felt like a dream, like you were sleepwalking until the moment you walked inside and Hyunjae stormed over to you, apparently back from her meeting. She had yelled and berated you, scolding you for being so stubborn and reckless. Hyunjae shoved her phone in your face, flicking through photos and videos of you and Chris and the photographer. It was useless to tell her you were defending yourself. He was right: the pictures spoke for themselves. You knew you had made a dangerous decision, that the prudent thing to do would’ve been to bite your tongue and do nothing.

And then she passed the news along. You were too much trouble right now. You were suspended indefinitely while the company figured out how to get rid of you.

It would take too much of your energy to cry about it. Really, all you could manage to do was catch your bus back to your cold apartment, still sleepwalking as you walked inside. Even though it was your home, it felt so empty. You supposed it was from the lack of people you usually had around, but you knew that in the end, you were just stupid enough to get wrapped up in the wrong good intention.

Days passed and your friends slowly realized you were back home. The beeping on your phone eventually fizzled from a storm to a light rain, occasionally buzzing as someone wondered where you were, if you were free to catch up. All you could do was drift from the couch to the bathtub to the bed, occasionally heading downstairs to the convenience store on the corner when you noticed you were hungry. It was getting to be too much, weighing on you and insisting upon itself. None of the texts that popped up on your phone were Chris, and they wouldn’t be. You had to finally see that. You resolved to answer the next text that came, praying to feel anything but lost and numb for the first time in weeks.

Come out tonight, came the next message, we miss you, dummy. You sighed, begrudgingly thankful it was this and not someone inviting themselves over with ice cream and wine. Still, you fussed over an outfit to wear, even if you were quietly glad to be distracted. You settled on a simple and fun dress with some heels you hadn't worn in forever. You finally took the time to fully clean yourself up, even going so far as to put on some more makeup than your usual. The person in the mirror looked vaguely more put together than you felt, which was just what you needed as you ordered an Uber.

The club was noisy and crowded, which you knew to expect, but it was bearable to have friends there. Everyone was gracious enough to give you two minutes of personal gushing and pecking and prying before the matter on everyone’s minds finally came tumbling out: Chris or, rather, Bang Chan. Were you dating, were you fucking, were you still together? You dragged your friends into a booth before you finally explained all you were willing to be held accountable for: it was complicated, and it wasn’t what it looked like, and it wouldn't be smart to say anything more. Your friends just about murdered you for such an apparent cop-out, but it was true. You couldn’t afford to give anyone the wrong idea, even if that meant telling them virtually nothing. It was dumb to keep things like this secret, but everyone knew that by this point, no amount of backlash could be cancelled out by now. You were obviously something, but saying that out loud — no matter if it was nothing or whatever it was they thought — would be falling off a tightrope.

Everyone was pressing you for more details when your phone rang. No one ever called you. Who would be calling you? You checked, your eyes widening in surprise.

Chris.

You made an excuse to run off to the bathroom, shutting yourself into the last stall and talking low.

“Hello?” You asked, attempting not to get your hopes up.

“I’m in a fucking bind,” came Chris on the other end, distressed and yelling over music in the background. Where was he? “Can you help me?”

“How bad is it?”

“Bad enough for me to be calling you.”

Despite the sting, you understood, snapping back into professional mode. It felt like being launched from underwater and back onto the beach as you grabbed a pad and pen from your purse and took notes. Wherever Chris was, it was only a few blocks away.

Your friends all booed, trying to be understanding despite their frustration at your leaving so soon. You’d been a hermit for a week and suddenly you come out for a night, only to be whisked away once again. The cold air of the street stung as you stepped onto the sidewalk, your heels clicking on the asphalt as you shrugged on your regrettably light jacket. You knew you could walk in the time it would take to wait for a car so you hurried along, dodging passersby and praying it wouldn’t rain.

You were surprised to find yourself standing in front of another nightclub and you made sure you had the right address. Sure enough, this was the place. You were bewildered as you walked through, grumbling as you dug out a couple bills to pay the cover charge and trying to peer through the dim lighting. The cacophony and drunks were just as annoying as the last club you were in. Chris almost never expressed much interest in going to places like this, so what was he doing here? You combed the whole place, even asking a bartender for a “friend” who just happened to match Chris’ description, when you finally heard a commotion behind you.

Sure enough, there was Chris, Jisung, and Changbin, all holding back Hyunjae as she clawed at a bouncer. The boys were obviously trying to lay low with their face masks still on. Changbin had the brim of his baseball cap pulled low on his face, and Jisung had his hoodie pulled up. Somehow, the three of them were having a hard time calming down the small woman.

“I shouldn’t have to leave! Let go of me!” Hyunjae drunkenly screeched, kicking and swinging as the boys tried to keep her contained. She accidently pulled at Chris’ face mask, ripping it off and making Jisung’s hood fall back. Right on cue, the cell phones whipped out and a crowd gathered on the fringes. You stepped forward, and the boys all looked up as they noticed you. Thinking fast, you did the first thing that came to mind: you punched Hyunjae right under the sternum, hard enough to knock the air out of her. The boys quickly grabbed her as she crumpled, slinging her over Chris’s shoulder and Changbin picking up her bag. They followed you out, running out to find the company car while onlookers still followed and tittered behind.

“Car?” You breathlessly asked the boys behind you.

“Around the corner, one block down on the left,” Jisung blurted out as he followed.

And, of course, the photographers, having hidden away in the corners of the club, made their way to the front of the assembled crowd, snapping photos. You fell behind now, trying to get space between them and the boys until they ran up to the car. Jisung yanked Hyunjae’s bag off of Changbin’s arm, digging around until he found the keys and beeped the car open. Hyunjae was loaded into the back, Jisung and Changbin getting in on either side of her as Chris jumped into the front seat. Once they were safely inside, you ran up as quickly as you could in your high heels and fell into the driver's seat. You all fumbled to get the keys into your hand and into the ignition, cursing and yelling as the photographers caught up to you when you finally got the car started. You blasted the horn to disperse the swarming crowd and threw the car in reverse, feeling a bizarre sense of deja vu as you peeled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

“Where are we going?!” Jisung asked from the backseat.

“Hyunjae’s place,” you firmly decided, “we can’t let anyone else see her like this. We’ll get her inside and I’ll get you all a ride while I stay with her.”

“Are you sure?” Changbin asked. You nodded definitively.

“Absolutely. She would do the same.”

You shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat as your dress hugged your legs together more than you’d like. You tried to be sneaky as you slid the hem up a few inches, just enough to get more comfortable as you sped along, but you still noticed Chris out of the corner of your eye, absently watching the extra flash of skin. His attention hurt for some reason, having proof that he still was capable of looking at you that way but not wanting to.

“Tell me what happened,” you prodded, getting his attention back. He shrugged with a sigh, broad shoulders softening.

“We were out meeting a producer down the street,” he explained. “Hyunjae-noona’s been acting weird all day, and she said she would wait at the club for us since we were having dinner and would be a while. I thought it was weird at the time, but… I guess I didn't realize what a bad idea it was.”

“It's fine,” you consoled, “your intentions were good. Hyunjae fucked up, not you.”

The boys worked to bring Hyunjae after you as you parked in her building's garage and headed to the elevator. You'd only been here one or two times, but you were still impressed with how humbly nice her place was. You were sure to be quiet as you silently moved down the hallway.

Until you dropped the keys on the front doormat.

Hyunjae roused as you hurried to pick up the keys, instantly getting rowdy again. The boys all jumped to attention, doing their best to shush her again as you got the door open. It was so polite of her to decide now was the time to finally lurch.

“Bathroom, quick,” you directed, Chris following your pointed finger down the hallway. He unloaded Hyunjae off his shoulder and onto the floor besides the toilet and you leapt down beside her, getting her to retch inside. You all took a moment to breathe before Chris surprised you with an offered hand to help you up.

“I think she's got it from here,” he panted with a small smile. You nodded, exhausted, pulling your phone from your purse and dialing for a car. This was a case of calling on a trusted company, and not just a ride share. The two of you walked back down the hallway, catching Jisung and Changbin collapsed on the couch in the small living room. You directed him to the tiny kitchen, letting yourself fall into a chair at the table.

“You look really good, by the way,” Chris remarked, but he wasn't quite looking at you as he finally relaxed into the seat on the other side of the small table.

“So do you,” you replied awkwardly. He really did. He was obviously sleeping and eating and staying active -- he was fine, just like you knew he'd be.

“I'm sorry if I dragged you away from your plans.”

“I was just out with some friends,” you waved him off, “I wasn't having an amazing time anyway.” His eyebrow perked up at the mention of ‘friends’, but what did that mean?

“How have you been? The others have missed you.”

What about you, you wanted to ask, didn't you miss me? You thought against it. “I'm fine,” you shrugged, “I'm looking for new work.”

“What?” Chris did look at you now, surprised and a little hurt.

“Well, yeah,” you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, “I can't stick around and keep causing trouble. Tonight definitely won't help that.”

“Okay then, that's fine,” Chris shrugged, “so you’re looking at other companies?”

“Not exactly,” you admitted.

“Oh. So you’re switching tracks, then? You’d do great in marketing.”

“No, same track… But somewhere else. When I was first getting into trouble when we were abroad… Hyunjae mentioned a friend at a production agency in L.A. I actually have a letter of recommendation I want Hyunjae to sign. I even brought it out to show my friends tonight.”

“What?!”

You reached forward, pressing a finger to Chris’ lips and he smacked it away. “Will you quiet down, please?” You pleaded. He looked at you, aghast as he shook his head. “I’m sure you're even madder at me, from the sound of it,” you frowned. He shook his head again.

“No. I'm mad at myself. I'm mad that I let myself think if I got this behind me, that we could... It’s stupid. This is honestly stupid. I should've never let myself love you. It’s just made everything that much more difficult.”

“What?” You asked, dumbfounded. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” Chris reeled, “I’m sorry, but I really am starting to regret falling for you.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. You don’t love me,” you insisted. Chris let out an indignant laugh as he got up.

“I can't believe you,” he scoffed. “Fine. Tell me what to do. I don’t love you. Whatever. I'm getting the guys and waiting downstairs.”

You watched, feeling a bizarre sense of heartache as Chris pushed himself away from the table and stormed off. There was a quiet argument in the living room, and the front door finally swung open and shut. A heavy sigh fell from your gut as you got up. You eventually had to check on Hyunjae; everything had been too quiet. You padded down the hall into her bedroom, sliding open her organized drawers to find her some pajamas. You kicked off your tall shoes before heading back down the hall.

Hyunjae lay in a heap against the wall next to the toilet, cheeks flushed but otherwise looking alright.

“When did you get here?” She slurred tiredly as you worked on getting her dirty blouse off.

“You’re a mess,” you said, feeling almost stronger for saying it out loud. “You caused a lot of fucking trouble tonight. I'm glad it wasn't me for once.”

“I just missed my baby,” she whined, her head lolling back down to her chest as you wrestled a pajama top onto her.

“Ugh,” you wrinkled your nose, “don’t call me that.”

“Not you, stupid,” she scolded. She kicked you off as she searched for her bag. When she couldn’t find it, she slumped back against the wall, lazily gesturing out to the hallway as she shimmied off her jeans. “In my bag… My baby.”

Whatever. You could leave your letter of recommendation in there for her to sign, but you mostly wanted to know what the hell she was talking about. You found the bag sitting on the couch in the living room where Jisung must’ve left it. Carefully, you shifted around the jostled contents until something caught your eye -- an envelope. Another letter? You slipped it open, wondering exactly what you were looking at when inside was just a picture of a little girl.

“See, stupid?” Hyunjae asked from behind you. She was fully dressed in her pajamas, leaning against the doorway to the living room. “My baby.”

“I don’t understand,” you shook your head.

“You wouldn’t,” she laughed meanly. “She’s six years old now. I get a picture of her every year. Look on the back. She likes to ride horses and her favorite color is blue.”

“Why isn’t she with you?” You sat on the couch, looking at the picture of the little girl. Hyunjae collapsed onto the couch beside you.

“Her father knew what was best. He always told me that he would do right by me. We’re not together, and she’s with a family that isn’t stupid like we were. So I guess that’s what was right.”

“Who is--”

“The father? We met when I first became a manager. He was mature and nice and getting divorced. He’s still at JYP.”

You stared, eyes shaking a little as you looked from Hyunjae to the picture and back again. “But who--”

“None of your fucking business,” Hyunjae spat. “He doesn’t get pictures. Just me. I had her by myself, no one else was at the hospital with me. She was my little secret, and now she’s my six-year old little secret.”

“Why stay there, though?” You asked incredulously. “You could work anywhere.”

“I love my job. It’s my whole life. I told him I'd give up the baby if he kept my job. I shouldn't have to leave because I made a mistake.”

You blinked hard at the irony, shaking your head at the absolute audacity of the mental gymnastics at play here. All this time you’d hoped that Hyunjae was acting from a place of platonic admiration, a kind of kinship making her want you to succeed… Not some sort of bitter vendetta against her own mistakes. She ardently believed you couldn't help it just because she couldn’t. That realization burned, but it didn’t manifest as more anger. You pitied Hyunjae, and this didn't feel unlike the moment you’d realized your parents were flawed adults doing their best. Hyunjae interrupted your thinking with her miserable snoring from her end of the couch and, after making sure she was bundled up in a blanket and propped on her side, you found a bucket in her cleaning supplies to set by her. You grabbed a sports drink from her fridge and placed it on the coffee table. To top it off, you dug your letter of recommendation out of your purse, slipping the envelope under the picture of Hyunjae’s six year-old little secret and ultimately helping yourself to the bedroom.

Nights passed and you didn’t hear from anyone. The morning after you bailed out Hyunjae, you’d slipped your shoes back on and caught an Uber home without rousing her. You didn’t hear from Chris or any of the members, you didn’t hear from Hyunjae, and you didn’t hear from any of your friends because while you were bailing out Hyunjae, you bailed out on them, and they assumed you wanted space. And maybe you did. You threw yourself into your schoolwork, almost forgetting in all this madness that graduation was fast approaching. Normally, you’d be looking forward to becoming a full-time manager, but now you had no idea what would become of you. You checked and rechecked and triple-checked all your graduation materials, refusing to mess anything else up. After all these years of hard work, you would at least walk out with the degree you were entitled to, if not for losing your dream job in the process.

Graduation itself was almost a relief. Your family got stuck mid-travel and couldn’t make it, but you were being assured through multiple texts during the ceremony that one of your friends was keeping them in the loop and sending pictures. This was puzzling, considering you were currently sitting with most of your friends. It hurt to not have your family in attendance after all this work, but it was nice to know they were trying. You couldn’t shake the fact, though, that this felt like a post-mortem. After this was some ominous void that looked like it could swallow you whole. Years of careful planning, and now you were jobless and directionless. There was really no telling how difficult it would be to find a job with your current reputation if you didn't have someone vouching for you, and the idea of switching tracks entirely felt like failure.

An elbow in poking into your arm let you know that your existential crisis was almost holding up your row of students. You quietly apologized, quickly getting up and falling into line towards the stage. You still couldn’t focus, lost in how going back to making coffee for bratty teens and huffy professionals would only remind you of how short you cut yourself off. Everything only became more fully realized as you crossed the stage and accepted your diploma. You smiled and waved for the event photographer, but were starkly distracted by something beyond the barrier, towards the back of the grand lawn where the ceremony was being held. A shock of blonde hair and some broad shoulders clad in black caught your eye, only blurred by the distance, but an odd shape that looked eerily like Hyunjae’s giant purse only made you feel even crazier. It would be a bit ridiculous to ghost you and suddenly show up on the fringes of your graduation. Chris, maybe, but absolutely not Hyunjae. Clearly, you had just imagined it, and you shook your head, ready to just head back to your apartment.

No school and no job would end up being a huge learning curve to get used to. Waking up and having nothing was a bizarre feeling, and it made you a bit anxious, feeling even more lost than you already had. You tried going back to the gym. You tried going for walks, even when rain was dumping down outside. You got together your resume and a CV and portfolio materials. Nothing was helping fill this vacuum you’d created. For a couple days you severely considered texting Chris, your finger hovering over the send button but never going through with it. Again, he was fine. He would be fine, and once you moved on with everything, you'd be fine, too.

Another rainy night arrived, this time seemingly out of nowhere, and you were taking firm stock of your cabin fever. What could be changed before you eventually had to move? You could get some plants, you supposed, maybe liven up this oddly cold apartment that didn’t look like anyone of substance actually lived here, when a knock sounded at the door. You tried peering out the front window which looked out at the walkway outside, but whoever was at the door was just out of sight. Carefully, slowly, you cracked open the door and peered out. You gasped.

Chris.

He was soaked, having apparently been caught in the sudden downpour. You both stood on either side of the threshold and warily regarding each other. Chris moved first, unable to keep still any longer and he stepped through your doorway, taking your face in his hands and kissing you back into your apartment. Your hands covered his, unsure if you wanted to tear them off of you or hold on tight. You did, however, finally let logic rule for a moment. Your hands drifted down to his chest, his drenched shirt under his open jacket clammy on your fingers as you gently pushed him back.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, unsure if you were speaking quietly or if your heart was just beating too loudly in your ears.

“It’s okay,” he panted, “I’m supposed to be out with a friend right now.”

“No, Chris,” you shook your head, “why are you here?”

“I…” He paused, biting at his lip as he thought. Were those raindrops on his cheeks? “I heard Hyunjae on the phone earlier. She was talking to her friend in L.A., and I realized you’re really leaving and I might never see you again, and…” He paused again, a little more choked up and frazzled now.

You took his hand, softly massaging his fingers in your grip. “Chris, Hyunjae isn’t going to just ship me off to L.A. She’s too bitter for that. I don’t know what you heard earlier, but you didn’t have to come here--”

“No,” Chris insisted, “Don't condescend to me. I had to come. No matter what, that moment just solidified that I--.”

You shook your head, letting go of Chris’ hand before he held onto you himself. “Don't say it--”

“Oh, don't you start with that again,” he shushed you. “Would you stop and listen to me for once? If you don't let someone in you're going to end up just as miserable as she is.”

“Fine,” you huffed, wrenching your hands out of his, “I can let someone in, but it doesn't have to be you and I don't have to ruin your career in the process.”

“Would you stop being such a martyr?!” Chris reeled. “Stop being so stubborn and let me be the one to do right by you for once. Don't treat me like I'm so precious, alright?! I'm so tired of being your little secret.”

“Secret? People know, Chris.”

“Then why are you still pretending you don't have any sort of real feelings for me?! What you say and what you do practically never line up and it's driving me absolutely insane. You're so insistent that you're the only one making sacrifices here and I've had it.”

You folded your arms, waiting and praying you were masking the fire raging just under your skin. “Fine. You've made sacrifices, too. Did you get that out of your system? Are you finished?”

“Holy shit!” Chris sputtered. “Would you come off it already? I come out here to tell you I fucking love you and you are being the biggest dick about it!”

“Stop saying that!” You sighed heavily. By this point you were both pacing your tiny apartment.

“Stop?! This is the first time I could even try to get you to listen after last time, you nag!”

“If you’re going to be calling me names, maybe you should get the hell out,” you ordered, thrusting a pointed finger at the door.

“Fine!” Chris spat, turning to leave. “Maybe I spoke too soon. You're already plenty like Hyunjae. She must be carting you off because she can’t stand having competition for Most Selfless Asshole.”

That did it. The fire under your skin shot up to your eyes and all you saw was red. You reached past him, grabbing the door handle for him and moving to shove him outside yourself.

“Hey, would--? Would you -- fucking stop it!” Chris struggled against you. He attempted to push you back so he could actually leave, only to be met with your grappling hands every time he tried to create distance. He sighed. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was mad and it was terrible to say. Please calm down?”

“No!” You roared, startling him. You were too heightened by now, bristling with distress from all sorts of directions. Doing the only thing he could think to do, he tackled forward, hoisting you over his shoulder and trying to ignore your yelling and thumping fists on his back as he marched you across the floor to your bed. He unceremoniously tipped you down, letting you bounce onto the mattress before catching your flailing hands in his again and pressing them into the sheets.

“Now can you please calm down?” Chris tried again, and you thrashed in his grip.

“No!” You yelled again. “I can’t believe you would just come here and try to pull this on me.”

“Pull what?” Chris fretted. “I’ve made myself more than clear this entire time. I’ve never played games, or let you believe that I feel one way and act against that.”

“Oh, excuse me for trying to remain professional!” You shouted as you tried to wrestle Chris off of you.

“What in the fuck has been professional about this?!” He asked, bewildered.

“I’m doing my best, alright?!” You shot back, “It’s fucking complicated. You know exactly how I feel and what I'm having to deal with.”

“How would I know how you feel?! You won’t tell me anything! I’m not a fucking mind-reader, and I’m not about to just assume because look where the hell that got me.”

“Well, maybe fucking consider that admitting I love you would feel like creating a giant goddamn detour from what we’re both working for,” you blurted before you could catch the words falling out of your mouth. Your eyes bore into each other, watching, waiting, before he finally had enough and dove into you, his lips back on yours like he was coming home.

“Say it again,” he urged against you.

“Say what again,” you challenged, “I didn’t admit anything.” You wrenched a hand out of his grip and shoved it down between your bodies, pushing past where his rain-soaked shirt was sticking to your stomach where your hoodie had ridden up in your scuffle. He gave a yelp as you tried to clutch tight onto him between his legs. It was a dirty play, but you wanted nothing more than to not have to confront this right now.

“What the fuck?” Chris groaned against your lips as he tried to pull out of your grasp, only succeeding in his foot slipping in your bedsheets and falling back into your hand wrapped around him in a vice. “I hate how much I missed you,” he spat at you, his tongue nonetheless mingling hot with yours at your insistence.

“You can’t just get me to do what you want by strong-arming me,” you fired back, your grip on his cock through his jeans only getting worse as you began to massage his length.

“Don’t distract me,” he panted, but it sounded more like a plea, “and I'm not trying to make you do anything.” Finally, he let out a thorough groan at your rubbing, reacting enough for his grip to falter on your other wrist. You took the opportunity to kick him off the bed and onto the floor before you pounced on him, your soft lounge shorts not doing much to protect you from his rigid length rubbing hard between your legs as you pinned him. His hands scrambled to stop you again as you kept him distracted, rolling your hips on top of his and hating how much you missed him, too.

“It’s so easy for you,” you hissed as you grinded down against him, only letting his restrained moans fuel you more, “you can come here and profess your feelings for me, but I'm the one who’ll get heat for this if we try to make it happen and people know. You’re famous, Chris, and I'm just staff. Or at least I was. No matter what, I'll be some dumb girl, or some monster, who couldn't fucking help it, and either I took advantage of you, or I was too dumb to stop this, but no matter what I'll come out worse than you will. This can be a bump in the road for you but this is already ruining all my hard work.”

Chris finally bucked you off, getting up and grabbing your arm to drag you back to the bed. He easily tossed you back onto the mattress, slapping your hands away as he tried to regain control. It was almost gross, how good fighting like this felt for some reason, but seeing how bad he wanted you only pulled harder on that gut feeling you kept trying to shut up.

“You know, plenty of people think we’re just fine. We’d have support,” he huffed as he pinned your hips to the bed.

“Yeah,” you struggled to pry his fingers off of you, “but any amount of dissent is going to be enough to ensure I never get to do the work I want in this entire goddamn country.”

“Holy shit, you’re so stubborn,” he growled, exclaiming when you tried to shove your knee between the both of you to throw him off again. He kicked your ankles apart, settling between your legs. His jeans were rough against you where his hips met yours.

“Do you hate it?” You challenged him.

“Not at all,” he grinned spitefully, and you realized his smirk matched your own, “in fact, I love it. Because, for some reason, instead of talking like rational people, you're fighting me pretty hard just to not say you don’t love me.”

“Right,” you tripped over your thoughts in an attempt to follow his new tactic, “but you’re the one who kissed me as soon as I opened the door, so who started it?”

“Fine,” his wicked smile grew along with his confidence, “then tell me you don’t.” Chris rolled you both over, holding you up on his lap with both your wrists in one of his hands. “You’re on top. You've had no problem telling me how it is, so tell me you don’t love me and I’ll leave.”

“It’s not that easy,” you stumbled through your words as you tried to tug your wrists out of his hold. As you stilled, you gradually sank into him.

“Why?” He asked as he let you sink further against his chest.

“Because…” You bit at your lip, really thinking of how to go about this. The way he looked up into your eyes made your whole body ignite. His grip on your wrists loosened and you melted against him, your fingers weaving into his hair that was still damp, smelling of rain and sweat as you kissed his brow. “I feel like I’m giving everything up if I say it.”

“It’s not forever,” Chris reassured you as he closed his eyes to accept your lips on his face, “this isn’t a contract. It’s just one day at a time, or a week, or a month, or however long it can be. I want you, even just for a little bit.”

Your lips on his brow traveled down to his cheek, pressing a kiss there as well in a gesture you realized you rarely practiced. Finally, apprehensively, your lips hovered only moments apart from his, hanging in a loaded silence that was threatening to swallow you whole. “Fine,” you carefully announced, “I love you. I'm not sure when exactly it happened, but it did and I've been miserable over you.”

Chris’ grin cracked into a wide smile as he took your face in his hands again. “Oh, babygirl, I’ve been miserable, too,” he laughed as you teasingly swatted him for the name, the actual joy in his voice shooting straight through your heart as he kissed you again. “Say it again.”

“You got one, don’t get greedy,” you jokingly warned, gasping as he rolled you back over in bed. Chris’ hips pressed into yours as his lips traced the line of your cheek down to your neck.

“I’m so greedy for it. Please say it again,” he asked against your skin, his breath tickling you and making you laugh. You finally made the decision to push him up from you and grabbing his jacket and pulling it off of him. He playfully cried out as you rolled him off of you and sat yourself back on his hips, taking it upon yourself to peel his wet shirt off of him, just as it was finally beginning to dry. “See? If you’re going to strip me then I deserve at least one more.”

“Make me,” you triumphantly laughed, letting out a pathetic squeak as he quickly tugged your hoodie off over your head. His eyes slowly roamed over you as his fingers played with the hem of your thin tank top underneath. The moment you moaned at the feel of his hand on your breast, that mischievous grin returned as he pinned you back to the bed once more. He let himself get distracted as you slipped off your tank top, his eyes searching you ravenously. Your hands quickly searched for the button of his jeans as he nuzzled and nipped at your breasts, a gasp jumping from him as you finally released his cock and began massaging his bare length in your hands. “Give up yet?” You coaxed him, jumping as he swiftly pulled off your lounge shorts along with your panties.

“Not at all,” he smirked as he sat back. He kicked off his shoes and jeans and quickly stripped off his briefs before climbing back between your legs, only to be met with your foot pushing him back. You took in the sight of each other, finally fully exposed in the dim light of your tiny apartment. Your eyes pored over his bobbing Adam's apple, down to his heaving chest and following the lines of his abdomen down to his flushed and leaking erection. He looked incredible in this moment, and you let yourself finally feel like he was yours, even for just a little bit. “You’re asking for it,” he laughed, pulling you back to reality, “I’ll make you say it.”

Before you could get another crack in, he leaned down, kissing your knee and ghosting his lips over your skin on his way up to cage you in his arms on the bed. “Fat chance--” you attempted to tease, the words caught in your throat as Chris’ firm cock prodded into your soaked entrance. His lips pressed to yours as he slowly slid inside you. You never realized how much you’d been yearning for this stretch again, to feel him filling you out as he held you.

“Say it,” he breathed, that handsome flush that you’d noticed when he was aroused taking over his body and crawling up his chest to his neck and cheeks. “Say it or you're not getting anymore.”

“No no no,” you laughed desperately, “please, please give it to me.”

“I’m sorry, babygirl,” he smiled, “you're not getting any until you say it.”

“No, please,” you begged as you attempted to roll your hips onto his cock from under him. “Please please please.”

“That's really too bad,” he shrugged, “it would’ve been so good.”

“No no, please,” you pouted, “fuck me, please, I love you, fuck me.”

“There we go,” he groaned instantly as he immediately began thrusting deep into you, “was that so hard? Now try it when I say it.” He kissed you deep again, his hand trailing down to make sure you were spread wide for him as he fucked you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you said, breathless, loving the feeling of giving yourself in to this moment. Chris moaned on top of you, the way the walls of your pussy massaged his cock making him almost wince from the pleasure. It was so good, you managed to still push him over onto his back, your hot depths still impaled on his length as you began to ride him. You rolled your hips hard onto his, savoring his moans and repeated affirmations of affection made under his breath as he gripped the sheets. You guided him a bit more forwardly, leading one hand to your clit as you grinded down against his length.

“Since when did you get back on top?” Chris laughed. In this light, you could see how blown out his pupils were, how drunk on you he was that he could barely keep up. “I think I should get to be on top at least once in our lives, don’t you?”

He pushed you back over, taking a moment to tease your nipples with his tongue before he pulled out of you, smiling devilishly at your whines before he moved further down the bed. His tongue nudged in between your legs and your fingers were instantly in his hair, your back arching as he expertly laved at you.

“Remember the first time I made you cum?” Chris smiled, picking his head up from your pussy and pumping into you with his fingers. You nodded timidly, watching and waiting to see what he was up to as his thumb drew firm circles on your clit. “I don’t think I've gotten to cum with you once since that first night backstage, but ever since I got you to cum I've thought about doing this.”

“Doing what?” You asked. This feeling of giving up control to him was keeping you alert, the vulnerability making you feel like you were spread open for him in more ways than one. He licked deep between your legs once more before coming up for air again, his chin slick with you.

“I thought you’d remember,” he teasingly pouted, “that first day I made you cum on my tongue, I said that even after you were done, we weren't finished until I did.” Before you could question him, he held tight onto your thighs, keeping you open so he could lick and nibble at your sensitive clit as he pumped his fingers back inside you. Your head pushed back into the pillow, your eyes squeezed shut from trying not to moan too loud as Chris worked you over. All you could do was squeal and curse under your breath, completely at his mercy as his tongue pushed you dangerously closer towards your orgasm.

“Chris, slow down,” you meagerly begged.

“I got you, don’t worry,” he soothed, “I love you. You’re going to cum, and I’ve missed it so much. Now say it again.”

And you did. “I love you.” It began as a hushed whisper, then progressed to desperate whines and moans. He had such an affectionate power over you that you would do anything he said. Finally, just like he said would happen, he held you down and licked you through it as you couldn’t hold back your near-scream, your thighs clenching as your orgasm rocked through your body. And, just like he said he would, he didn’t stop. Chris kept licking and fingering your spasming pussy and you could almost feel his proud smile against you until he finally relented.

You gasped for breath as Chris climbed back on top of you, his thick length almost intimidating now as he pushed up against you. He pet your hair, caressing your flushed face as you took an agonizing time to come down. “You’re being so open with me,” he marveled quietly.

You nodded shallowly, still attempting to catch your breath. “Of course,” you breathed, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he grinned, almost as if he still didn’t believe this was happening. In a way, neither did you, until his rigid cock slid back into your aching pussy. You cried out, your hands clutching onto his arms as you were heavily overstimulated. “I got you,” he reassured you again, kissing your face as he fucked you into the mattress, “it’s so good.” He sighed into the crook of your neck, his hips rolling deep into yours.

“It’s too much,” you whined desperately.

“No no no, baby, you’re taking it so well,” he soothed, gently rolling you both over so you were perched on his hips once again. From this angle he was somehow even deeper inside you, filling out every inch of you that you didn’t even realize could be. “There,” he soothed, still easily bouncing you on his cock, “you have more control now.”

And, somehow, that move and remark put together made the overstimulation go from near-pain to near-bliss. In fact, in a bizarrely rare turn of events, you felt another orgasm mounting. Chris’ eyes lit up as you thrust along with him. “How close are you?” You asked, your nails beginning to dig into the lines of his chest as your momentum built.

“Soon, baby, soon,” he struggled, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut as he clutched tight onto your hips, “you’re going to make me cum so hard.”

“Good,” you desperately panted, “me, too.”

Chris’ eyes snapped open, “You’re what?”

“I’m going to cum again,” you whined, trying to match his faster rhythm.

“Holy shit, I love you,” he smiled, “cum with me.”

You both settled into this faster rhythm, trying to keep up with each other as you both neared your peaks. Chris slowed just the smallest bit, his breath hitching and steadying again as he tried to make sure you would cum together. He listened close for the changes in your sighs and moans, the twinges of your fingers on his skin giving him hints of when you were getting closer. You gasped as he pulled you down to wrap his arms around you, his lips finding yours as you both grew even nearer.

“Now,” he breathed against you as he felt your walls clench around him, “cum with me now, I’m gonna--!” Chris threw his head back in the pillow, letting out a deep groan as he thrust his orgasm up inside you and savoring your impassioned moans as you came along with him. He held you tight to him, his hands running up your back and into your hair to caress your face as he kissed you through his peak, breathless as his cum flowed into you.

The air of your tiny apartment was electric as you laid together in your bed, tangled in each other, as well as the bedsheets and your discarded clothes. You rolled off him and laid at his side, keeping a hand pressed to his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Wordlessly, he turned to face you, closing his eyes and grabbing for one of your shuffled blankets. He pulled it up over you both before taking your hand, pulling you to his chest as you both recovered.

And you woke up like that. It really was that easy. The two of you had fallen asleep basking in this liberating glow of letting yourselves have what you both wanted, and now you were waking up to the sun already streaming in through the blinds. Your apartment suddenly felt homier, almost like when you first moved in. You looked over Chris’ face, still just as close to yours as when he drifted off to sleep, studying to see how asleep he truly was. Skipping the sweetness, you pinched his nose.

“No,” he shook his head as he pulled you closer, “I'm sleeping.”

“You’re awake,” you smiled as you grabbed your phone off the bedside, “and I'm ordering breakfast.”

“Oh thank god,” he murmured as he willed you to fall back asleep in his arms.

“Was last night good?” You softly asked, unable to fight off the smile on your face as your eyes were still waking up. Chris turned his head more into the pillow in an attempt to stay asleep as long as possible. He lazily nodded.

“So good. About time, too,” he grumbled with the faintest ghost of a laugh.

“I never asked,” you said quietly, stroking his hair as you breathed him in, “how did you find my apartment?”

“Hyunjae wanted to talk to you about the job thing but she’s too proud to not fight with herself about it. I convinced her that it was her idea to try and find you at your graduation, and when she chickened out of that, she sat parked in the company car in front of your building for like… I want to say twenty minutes. I almost dragged her up here myself.”

“She wanted to talk?”

“She did,” Chris nodded, finally giving in and opening his eyes. He sat up in your bed and stretched as he rested his head back against the wall. “I don’t know what to tell you. She really was talking to her friend in L.A. last night.”

You dragged each other out of bed, at least enough to each put on at least some form of clothing as you prepared some coffee. He watched intently as you slipped on your bathrobe, but he got distracted by all the parts of your apartment you never really considered before -- the framed pictures, the books, the way you organized your desk. Suddenly, his attention in you and your space made you take a second to remember how lost you'd been feeling lately, if maybe it was just a symptom of something less sinister than mediocrity.

“What now, you think?” Chris finally asked you. You set a cup of coffee in his hands, trying to focus on this moment so you’d always remember it: Chris, in only his underwear, hair a mess and drinking a cup of coffee while bundled up in your bed.

“It depends,” you ruminated, “how long can you last?”

“Me? As long as you want, I guess,” he half-shrugged, “as long as we want, really. I just want you to be happy. I'll be happy knowing you’re happy.”

You held back as you considered all the factors at hand, not wanting to let yourself get distracted by getting nearer to him right now. “What if… What if L.A. makes me happy, but you do, too?”

“Then pick L.A… and me, too, if you’d like. You don’t have to stick with one thing -- or two things -- forever. I'll be happy even having you for a little bit, remember?”

“It won’t be easy,” you warned.

“Has any of this been easy?” He laughed and you had to agree. You nodded, finally giving yourself permission to draw closer and get swept up in him again when the buzzer on your door sounded.

“Hyunjae!” Chris scrambled, setting his cup of coffee on your bedside and lunging for his jeans, “Holy shit, she probably tore the city apart looking for me.”

“Not Hyunjae. Food,” you gently reminded him, and he let out a gigantic sigh before collapsing back on your bed. You opened the door.

Hyunjae.

“Unnie,” you dumbly greeted, and you heard Chris thunk onto the floor behind you as he frantically reached for his jeans again.

“Little sister,” she awkwardly greeted in return, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Bang Chan.”

“Noona,” Chris nodded in her direction from behind you, still shirtless and horrified as he made a measly excuse to use your bathroom.

You straightened up as Hyunjae looked you up and down, as well as Chris as he scampered out of her line of vision. This was your home, and you felt like you were on a little better footing against Hyunjae after that night at her apartment. “I guess I couldn’t help it,” you smiled demurely.

“I’m sorry--” Hyunjae blurted. She tried again. “I’m sorry, little sister… I realized I’ve been too hard on you. As a supervisor, as a mentor… And maybe even as a friend. I was unfair to you. I'm not very good at this, so…” She slipped an envelope from her purse and into your hands. “You write well, but we already know that, and I made some grammatical revisions, and we both already know that as well. This is just a copy, of course. I already sent the original to a friend in L.A. who’s looking forward to hearing from you.”

“I know,” you replied confidently, excitement brimming under the surface, especially as Hyunjae uncharacteristically had a hard time maintaining eye contact with you.

“I'm proud of you, little sister,” she finally said, and she nearly took a step back as you gently took her hand in yours.

“Thank you, unnie. I appreciate that.”

Chris cautiously exited your bathroom, fully dressed in last night’s clothes. He looked back and forth between you and Hyunjae, trying to decipher how civil things were at the moment. “I’ll -- should we…? I could --”

“You'll call me,” you smiled reassuringly as you smoothed out his rumpled shirt, “and I'm going to make a phone call of my own, and in a few days you're going to help me pack, and a few nights after that you're going to take me out before I leave.”

“Yes,” Chris beamed at you, “that. All that.”

Hyunjae modestly looked away and began heading back downstairs as you insisted on kissing Chris goodbye, and you waved him off, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders to a point that you could swear you were floating. You were capable, and for the first time, you believed it.

Standby: An Epilogue

All these credentials, and you were suddenly a glorified intern. You fumed at whichever idiot’s bright idea it was to transform all your production assistants into liaison staff for groups and their management teams for an event like this. Nevermind that only a fraction of your team were bilingual, but only a smaller fraction were bilingual in a way that actually mattered in an event like this. That meant hiring translators, and that meant hiring temp teamsters to serve in place of your production staff, and that meant no one was prepping green rooms. Your actual staff was out fetching coffee and finding emergency hair products, so you were left grabbing groups for standby for various events of the day. You were walk/jogging to your next green room when your phone buzzed with a text.

>>It was an absolute disaster at the hotel this morning, hope you’re having better luck out there.

You smiled at Chris’ text, despite the stress coursing through you. Making it work like this had been hard for the past year, but predicting that and doing your best to roll with it had been helpful.

>Disaster out here, too. Can’t we just skip to tonight?

>>Sorry, babygirl, I know you're just dying without me.

>Stop that. I'm just looking out for you and your blue balls.

You allowed yourself a relieved giggle at your text exchange before your earpiece crackled.

“Green Room 4 for standby, banquet hall B.”

You clicked the chirp on your receiver twice, letting the channel know you were on your way.

“Already got Room 4,” someone else came through. You paused in the service hallway you were currently occupying.

“Partial 4,” a different director corrected. You clicked the chirp twice again, jogging down the hall in your regrettably inappropriate skirt and heels for this type of work before you rapped at the green room door. When no answer came, you flipped through your keys for the green room skeleton key and got the door open, gasping and quickly clapping a hand over your eyes before meekly apologizing as you turned back to face the hallway.

“Sorry!” You called over your shoulder, “Final call for standby.”

A surprised chuckle came from behind you, instantly melting your heart before you even turned around. There was Chris, his face an incriminating shade of red where he sat at the vanity. “Babygirl,” Chris let out a relieved laugh with a smile, “I’m in a bind. Can you help me?”

#skzsmutnet #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan smut #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan breakdown #honestly you don't know how much writing this has meant to me like I am SO happy I've done this and if you've enjoyed it that's even better

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