#okay everything is color coordinated to the best that i can and all of the images are from hobi's instagram!!! i drew all the little doodle

[frangipani-wanderlust]

How To Call 911

So most of my followers know now that I started working last May as a 911 dispatcher. Super proud of myself. And now that I am starting (very much still starting) to settle in a bit, I want to offer some tips on how to call 911. So, hold on to your hats.

(no-color version if the yellow text isn't rendering on your screen correctly)

When in doubt, call 911. Don't take this as me encouraging you to jump at shadows. Your neighbors' loud party is not an emergency, google the local non-emergency line and call that. Neither is the dry cleaning not giving you your clothes (I actually got this call on our 911 line). Nor is the fact that you saw a fox inside city limits (also something a real human called 911 about). But if you see a situation unfolding and you think "this seems dangerous, maybe this is 911-worthy" then it's 911-worthy. Don't hesitate. Call.

If you call 911 and you are freaking out, that's okay. If you're in a crisis, you may not remember a single tip I'm about to give you. We are trained for that, we can handle it, just do the best you can. It's not the end of the world to have a hysterical or frightened caller, and these are tips, not rules.

Location, location, location. We can't send you help if we have nowhere to send it to. Ideally, know the address. Failing that, know the name of a business or a church or an intersection. It is not cheating if you read this off a sign. There isn't a set of invisible rules that says you have to have your exact GPS coordinates memorized. Be prepared to describe the location somehow. That way, if our connection drops and that's all you can tell me, I can still send some police out to come find out what's going on and they can ask for medics or firefighters or whatever if needed. But we absolutely must know where to send assistance, it is the first thing we're going to ask.

Location again, but with a twist. The first thing our office says for emergencies is, "911, what is the address of the emergency?" If a building is on fire, tell us where the fire is. If your neighbors are being robbed at gunpoint across the street, give us their address. If you witnessed a car accident, tell us where the accident happened. The location of the emergency isn't necessarily the location where you are. Don't send police and fire to your office building if the wreck is on the freeway.

Answer the questions that you are asked. If the calltaker asks "Is the patient breathing?" don't start in about the seizure they just had (if they aren't breathing, the seizure they just had is not the biggest problem). If the calltaker asks, "Which way did the man you saw go when they ran?" don't tell them about how they broke down your door (if they are running away, knowing they broke your door down does not help the police know which direction to start looking). The particular question you are asked is being asked for a reason, and that reason is not frivolous but in an emergency, we aren't going to stop and explain everything.

Do not launch into a speech. If you're asked a yes/no question, yes or no is all the answer you should give. Your impulse will be to explain the yes or the no because more information is better than not enough, but overexplaining is its own problem. Now, we are hired for good typist skills, and are encouraged to get better and faster, but infodumping means things can get missed. The calltaker is going to have some information they're going to ask for by protocol and probably the option to drill down on some of it if clarification is needed. If you spend five paragraphs explaining your last answer, it delays getting other pertinent information.

Do not launch into a speech, part the second. You don't call 911 for things that happened last week, or even yesterday. Tell me the emergency that is happening right now. Ideally in one sentence. If someone is having a medical issue, and you call 911 about it, when the calltaker asks exactly what happened, do not tell them about how the patient had a surgery 5-and-a-half weeks ago. You called 911. What is the emergency that is happening right now. Don't be telling me about their surgery when the problem you called about is a broken leg. Yes, the surgery may have led to generalized loss of balance that has yet to return which caused the patient to fall which caused them to break their leg. Understood. But you didn't call because of all of that. You called because of the broken leg. Apply this principle to all emergencies.

Don't launch into a speech, part the third. When asked a specific and direct question, do not give an explanation instead of an answer. If the calltaker asks you "Is the weird person on the side of the road actually in the lanes of traffic?" do not explain to them how it's a very narrow roadway (see parenthesis for the story here). Aside from the fact that we're not asking these questions to be funny (see part the second), there's also the fact that now you are coming over as suspicious as hell. If I asked "how did that person on Facebook know what this supposedly missing kid is wearing and where he's going to be at 3:00 today?" and you say "well Facebook is a good way to spread information" I am now extremely suspicious of you.

(Also an actual call I have taken. The man was a totally ordinary guy out for a walk to the store, but this blue collar man walked through a Rich Person Neighborhood™ and according to Lady Catherine De Bourgh on the phone with me, that merited a call to the police. When I asked her if he was actually in the lanes of traffic [traffic hazard call type] versus not [suspicious person call type, on a technicality but technically...], she tried explaining three times that the road was narrow before she finally got the message that I was not going to stop asking until she told me the actual answer and answered "Well, I suppose so, yes." At this point, because she'd been so reluctant to answer me, I no longer believed the man actually was in the lanes of traffic and to this day believe that she lied to try and manipulate the police into a stronger-level response than was actually warranted. Because determining whether she was lying for sure is beyond the scope of my job, I put down what she said, but I didn't believe then and still don't believe now, that she told the truth. The totally ordinary and probably very nice guy was not arrested or hassled at all and was instead given a courtesy ride to the store.)

Be prepared to describe relevant people, maybe including yourself, and that includes race. If you have an asthma attack at a football game, the medics need to know how to find you in a crowd. If you are a black woman, that's gonna rule out everyone who isn't that. If you are a black woman wearing a yellow shirt, blue jeans, and a blue bandana over your hair, that excludes nearly everybody and when the medics arrive, they'll know exactly who to look for. Most of the time, someone's race isn't relevant information. When describing someone to emergency services, it absolutely is and it is not racist to accurately describe the relevant person or people.

There are more tips in the world, and I may come back to this post and add them as they occur to me. In the meantime, please enjoy this short treatise on how to call 911.

[heartfullofleeches]

Hiii can you please revive my dearest lovely human husband x monster reader?? I had a thought that maybe while Evan was working, monster reader decided “mmm my husband deserves a nice fresh catch for dinner” and dips???? I wanna see angsty insanity LMAO

Coming back home dragging a mountain lion or something, so innocent so sweet I love monster reader

Your alarm goes off.

Roused from slumber, you wipe drool from your chin as you strech; hunger hitting you in the same vein as consciousness. You check the clock for the time. 1pm. Lunch time.

You climb off the couch, getting out those last few nicks from the uncomfortable position. Your husband would scold you for such, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. You scurry into the kitchen, ripping the refrigerator doors open to retrieve your food. Containers for the next few days fill the compartment, separated by color coordination and times written in bold cursive. You grab the one for the current time and place it in the microwave; your stomach twisting pain from the thought of your upcoming meal alone as it starts to heat up. Roasted meat and a floral soup. That man spoiled you.

You take your spot at the table and flip through the notebook placed on it for your note of the hour.1

"Hey, Precious! Today's main course is leftovers, but I hope the soup makes up for it. I added some cauliflower because you need to eat more veggies when you're able. Love you, make sure the doors are locked and you're taking care of yourself. I'll be home by nine today because I wanted to get a little overtime in before our vacation, but I'll make it up to you this weekend."

You close the book, looking down at the band around your fourth finger. Your stomach still howls, but a different feeling takes over as you twist it around. Evan really did spoil you. Even before you became his spouse he made sure you had a proper home and were always fed. You went from eating every other week, to three meals a day plus snacks. It was small at first. You lived in a shoebox apartment and could only go out at night, but now you lived in a nice big home and the world is your oyster. There had to be something you could do in return.

Cleaning up the house and taking care of shopping was one thing, but they paled in comparison to everything he's done in your six years of partnership. Taking the first bite of your food, the idea hits you. You'll make him dinner! Not with the store brought stuff, but with meat you caught with your own two hands. He'll surely love it and it'll be the perfect start to your long week together on vacation.

You finish your meal quickly, making your escape through the backyard to avoid the public eye.

-

"One.. Two.. Three.. Okay."

Evan unlocks the last lock on your front door with a sigh of relief. You had to be careful even in the best of neighborhoods. He pushes the door - but it doesn't open all the way, blocked by a chain.

"That's still in? Normally they unlock it before I get here." He mutters to himself, raising his voice as he shouts. "Sweetie? You up? Can you open the door?"

No answer. You must be dreaming good then. Evan wedges his hand through the door and undoes the chain himself. He doesn't even take off his coat when he enters, gunning straight for your location. Seeing the couch empty raises a few flags. He told you not to sleep there, but it was always a new opportunity for another lockscreen photo.

"Muffin?" Evan ascends the stairs, gently knocking on the walls in hopes to stir you from your slumber before he reaches the bedroom. The cold steel of the knob only increases his worries which sky rocket as he opens the door; the room completely void of life.

"Y/n?.. H-honey?" The pet name comes out in a quiver. He tears the pillows and blankets from the bed as if you were hiding inside. His rain of destruction rings through the entire house as he tears it apart in search for you. He's hyperventilating by the time he reaches the kitchen, fat tears rolling down his face. He sees your dishes left on the table and his fears take over. He tries to catch his breath through his sobs, pulling at his hair and patting his face.

"Calm down. Calm down. Y/n hasn't been taken from you. They haven't left you. They're probably just, fuck-... taking a walk! Y-yeah, they're on a walk. I'll call them, and they'll hurry back as soon as they can."

Evan pulls out his phone and does what he should've when he first noticed your disappearance. There's no answer, but ever so faintly, he can hear a familiar ring. He calls again, stepping towards the backdoor. He's reluctant to open the door as your failure to answer can't mean anything good, but a soft shuffling has him damn near tearing it off its hinges. He rushes outside-

"Baby?"

Eyes reflecting the golden moonlight stare back at him. Body riddled in scrapes and bites, you hold a mountain lion by its neck in your human teeth; your lower mouth still dripping with the saliva that brought the beast to its end. You drop your catch with a look of disappointment.

"I didn't even get it in the oven before you came back...."

"Y/n!" Evan runs over and picks you up with all the strength his workouts have given him; the sting of your flowing blood null against his trained body. He kisses up a storm over your face, making sure to give both mouths at least a dozen kisses before he places you down to look at the severity of your injuries.

"Dove, look at these wounds! You could've gotten yourself killed!"

You lick the scratch closes to your shoulder, closing it with your spit. "Wanted to surprise you with dinner... So I didn't feel like I'm taking you for granted."

Tears of happiness replace those of sorrow. "Oh, sweetheart- you could never take me for granted, because I could never physically express how much you mean to me. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."

You purr as he kisses your wet cheek. "I love you too."

Evan takes your hand, the grass around his feet dyed red. He laughs. "I really appreciate your hunt - but let's just order takeout for tonight."

[bruhaalla]

Y/n was everything Matt wasn’t she had this sweet bubbly personality she always had a smile on her face he skin was always so soft her lips looked like she had just ate a cherry and her cheeks were alway rosey she was nice to everyone even people she didn’t know that why her and max clicked so fast max introduced. y/n to all of her friends she clicked with them all but one Matt press something about him just read bad boy and everyone girl liked it but her who wants to date a dick head right. Matt wasn’t use to not being wanted so he made her his mission but he failed over again he would try to make her jealous like that night at brodies party when he had Abby and Samantha rubbing on her but it only disgusted her

Y/N POV

y/n Matt called I rolled my eyes Hi! Matt I said sweet just because he was dick didn’t mean I had to be one “what are you doing tonight he asked”nothing I replied why what’s up I asked curious why he was so interested and what I was doing “ want to catch a movie “ I laughed so hard I snorted A MOVIE WITH YOU HA GOOD ONE MATT I walked laughing thinking he was joking but what i didn’t notice was the hurt in his eyes

Later that evening at lunch

Matt’s POV

Max can I talk to you I stated “sure she asked a little confused” me and max weren’t the closest in the group “ I don’t have any weed if that’s what you’re asking about” no I chuckle it’s about um

Y/N “ really I’m a little surprised never would have figured you interested” well things change I say rolling my eyes “Matt no offence your a umm jackass” thanks so much for the wonderful words of encouragement max I roll my eyes “of course your so welcome but seriously she thinks your a jackass” seriously something in heart twings I wouldn’t care if it was someone else but knowing she thinks that hurts for some reason. “ you okay Matt” yeah yeah I chuckle I start walking away thinking about my choices “ I CAN HELP CHANGE THAT” seriously I say walking back “ yeah a new look and some manners should fix that” she rolls her eyes after spending a hour after hanging after school with max im now dressed like fucking hunter and smiling not a real one but the look on Y/N face when she sees me hopefully will put a new one

Y/N POV

I stand in brodies basement waiting for max everyone’s her but her and Matt I talk it up with Abby about tv girl a common interest between us as we’re talking I hear a gasp I turn my head to the direction of whatever there looking at it’s Matt he looks off odd maybe he calls my name

“Y/N can we talk” I nodded my head I see max shoot him a thumps up as we walk up stairs we find a bedroom to talk in Matt are you okay I ask genuinely concerned “ yeah why wouldn’t I be he chuckles deeply” shooting a feeling straight to my core you look wow “ good wow or bad”he scratch the back of his head the tight clothes that are hunters clinching around his muscled body I look into Eyes there a sparkle in them “y/N are you okay” YEAH OFC I shout clenching my Legs from the sudden hotness from the room “there something I been meaning to say” shoot I say “ I like you a lot like it’s ridiculous I like how cherry you are how you always find the best in people I like you coordinate all your outfits by Color I like the way you chuckle when I say something funny then try to hide it I like the way you talk about bands I like you for you and I wanna change to be better for you I know you think I’m a jackass so I’m gonna be the most kiss ass person I know hunter that’s why I’m dressed like him” a deep growl like chuckle come from his throat I grab him by the shirt I look deep in his eyes there gorgeous filled with lust and sorrow kiss me jackass I giggle what seems like minutes his lips plant on to mine they fit perfectly together I melt into the kiss I pull us apart for air and to say something Matt of course I think your a jackass you try to make me jealous with other women but I always know your a sweet guy I notice now you get soft when I’m around and how you smile more I like When you offer to Carry my stuff to and from class or offer me a ride home I like when you look at me when everyone is talking I bring my hands up to his face I like that Matt not the jackass Matt he places his lips on mine

He pushes me back on to the bed his fingers brushing against the inside of my things my back arches he smiles

Into the kiss he pulls his lips from mine kissing down my collar bone

"Do you want me to fuck you,love ?" He wants to hear me say it, but he also wants my consent. It's such a sweet gesture, it almost makes me laugh."Fuck me,Matt. Please."I look at him shyly, playing it up.I can tell he likes it because he slowly presses inside, and i give a slight moan at the stretch. The roll of I hips is calculatedly unsure. He doesn't move, looking at me with a tiny smirk. "Matt, please. Ah.... I... mattt." I beg, and this time it's not for show. Matt doesn't pull out, choosing instead to grind his hips against mine, until I give a punched out moan and my body tenses at one particular roll. He has been cataloging my reactions, I realize. Matt pulls out, just to thrust back in and hit that same spot time and time again, with scary accuracy.He enjoys the way i gasp and arch under him, pressing deeper, harder. WhenI start to grab desperately at his shoulders, clawing at them, legs tensing around his waist, he brings down his hand on my throat, once again. He squeezes, hard enough to startle you and bring tears to your eyes. "Come on,love ." He encourages me ."Make a mess." And so, I do. The face i make when i come has to be one of his favorite sights in the whole world. It's enough to make him come too, thrusting into Me and making me sob harder from over stimulation. I push at him weakly, and he takes another look at my face. Mascara is running down my cheeks, lip gloss messy around your mouth. I don't look innocent anymore, I look debauched. He grumbles happily, and Matt knows. He is never, ever letting me go.

[716chr]

Chihiro Natsuyaki SR - “From Now, The Two Of Us” (Part 1)

Location: HAMA House - Living Room

Tao: 『You can freely decide your room layout with your roommate. Feel free to bring in any furnitures, equipments, or anything else, as long as it fits through the door』……

Tao: The president is so generous

Chihiro: Hey, hey. Tao-Tao, what kinda room do you like?

Chihiro: As for Chii~, somethin’ colorful and cute will be perfect ☆ The kinda room that just by bein’ in it can make Chii instantly super hyped!

Tao: You’re into streaming and all that stuffs, right? It’s probably best to have a good-looking background

Chihiro: And also~, a place where Chii’s TuRyStA Bears merchs can stay too! Chii will, like, put them where Chii can see them at all time and then say g’mornin’ to them in the mornin’ and g’night when it’s night!

Chihiro: Tao-tao, don’t you have stuffs too? You can put whatever you like in your own space, y’know?

Tao: Ah…. I might have to buy everything all over again, so just having a roof over my head is enough

Chihiro: Eh~? Ain’t that just no different from prison at all~?

Chihiro: C’mon, c’mon, why don’t you give it a try? Try askin’ Chii-sama to do you a solid

Tao: Then…..

Tao: Chihiro, you’re welcome to decorate my space as you please. I’ll leave it up to you. That’s what I want

Chihiro: …..Eh? You sure?

Tao: Instead of me going on about this and that, I’m sure it’ll definitely turn out great under your hands

Tao: Ah, I’m not just throwing it all on you. Of course I’ll lend a hand, so feel free to ask me to help carry stuffs or anything

Chihiro: ……No, I got this. Tao-Tao, just wait for me

Chihiro: Chii will get everything that Tao-Tao wants!

Tao: That’s reassuring. Then….. I’ll be in your care, Chihiro

Chihiro: Okay!

Chihiro: Let’s see. In that case, gimme a day to work on the coordinations

Chihiro: Sorry, but Tao-Tao, can you stay in the living til then?

Tao: Got it. Then I’ll go get my blankets and whatever else I’ll be needing for now

Chihiro: Alrighty, then Chii will go get ready!

Tao: Ok. Call me right away if you ever need a hand

Tao: ……Maybe I should get some necessities too while I can

Location: HAMA House - 2F Corridor

Tao: ……To think that you really finished it all in one day

Chihiro: Heh-heh, amazin’, right?

Chihiro: But y’know~, if you took a look inside the room, you’ll be even more surprised

Chihiro: Ta~da ♪ It’s room reveal time ♪ I present to you, our brand new room!

Tao: This is….!

Part 1 | Part 2

[hangmatts]

jungle boy goes to matt for help.

[ set before full gear 2022 ]

—

word count: 1,036. also posted on ao3

—

Jungle Boy very rarely gets frustrated. He’s a very calm and relaxed person. But, when he keeps messing up his hair, he can’t help but get mad. He throws the hair tie down on the floor and tries not to yell.

It’s a basic hairstyle, one that he’s done many times. His hands can’t help but shake because of his nerves. He tries sitting and thinking about what to do. He listens to the pre-show talk about the in-ring return of the Elite when the idea hits him. If anyone knows anything about hairstyles, it’s Matt Jackson.

—

He finds himself at the door of the Elite’s locker room, afraid to knock. He’s not even sure Matt likes him or if visitors are even welcome. He comes to the conclusion that he needs Matt’s help. He quickly shakes off the nerves and places a knock on the door.

Nick opened the door, peeking his head out. He looked confused when he saw the young man standing in front of him.

“Jack?” He asked. “What’s up?”

“Oh- um, is Matt here?”

“Yeah? You need to talk to him?”

“Yeah, please? If that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay! Come on in!” Nick smiled and opened the door to invite him in.

—

Jungle Boy looked over to see Matt in front of a mirror, trying to style his hair.

“Matt, you have a visitor.” Nick said before sitting back down on the couch.

“Hm?” Matt turned around. “Oh, Jack! So nice to see you! What can I do for you?”

“Um. I was hoping you could help me style my hair?”

Matt’s face immediately lit up with excitement. He jumped out of his seat, causing Jack to step back.

“I would LOVE TO. Come sit in front of me.”

Jack sat in the chair in front of the mirror, inspecting everything. He messed with the tiny butterfly clips. He color coordinated the hair ties. He picked up Matt’s silver, dangly earrings and started messing with them.

“Do you like the accessories?” Matt asked.

“Oh- yeah, they’re fun. Sorry, I didn’t mean to touch them.”

“It’s okay. You can mess with them as much as you want.”

Matt leaned down to whisper the next part. “I can tell you’re a little nervous and if messing with my earrings calms you down, go ahead.”

“Thanks- thank you.” Jack smiled.

“So, what hairstyle were you thinking?”

“I just wanted a half up ponytail.”

“Oh, a classic! One of my specialties too! You came to the right place.”

“I tried doing it myself but I couldn’t get it. It always looked wrong or bad.” Jack explained.

“I get it. I mean, I truly believe if your hair is wrong, your entire life is wrong.”

“Who said that?”

Matt tilted his head, trying to think.

“I don’t know but I say it all the time so, I’m gonna say it’s a Matt Jackson original!”

Matt smiled, proud at himself for that answer. Jack just nodded in response. Nick overheard and rolled his eyes.

—

Matt grabbed out all the tools he needed.

“Now, do you want a silent appointment or do you want to talk?” He asked.

Jack lowered his voice. “I’d love to talk but I would prefer if it was just us? Is that okay?”

“Of course!” Matt responded before turning to face Nick. “Nicky, please leave.”

“What? Why?” Nick was confused.

“I prefer to work in a less crowded environment.” Matt made it up on the spot, just to make sure Jack felt comfortable.

“Crowded? I’m ONE person.”

“NICK! Go find Kenny and talk about sports or something!” Matt pointed towards the door.

Nick rolled his eyes, mumbling something about Matt being dramatic as he walked out of their locker room. Matt rolled his eyes back.

—

“So, what’s on your mind?” Matt asked, picking up the first tool he needed.

“You know what it’s like to fight your best friend, right?”

Matt nearly froze. “All too well.” He answered.

“How do you go on after? I feel like everything is gonna change. It already has changed, but it’s gonna be so different when this match is finished. What do I do with myself? How do I move on?”

“Well, everything is gonna change.” Matt started as he brushed Jack’s hair back. “But, that doesn’t necessarily mean for the worse. A lot of the times, change is good. You will find your way after this ends. It’s always difficult to move on but I just know you’re gonna go on to do greater things.”

“What do you mean?”

“When this match is over, when this whole mess with Christian is over, you should put it all behind you. You’re amazing at what you do, Jack. I truly believe you’re gonna be a world champion someday. You are a star.”

“You think so?” Jack asked, fidgeting with Matt’s earring.

“I know so.” Matt smiled. “And soon, the entire world will see it. You’re so special. One day, you’re gonna realize that.”

“That means so much coming from you.” Jack awkwardly smiled back.

“Well, I’m glad I could help. I’m all finished. What do you think?”

Jack examined his hair in the mirror. Something so simple, yet so efficient.

“It’s perfect. Exactly what I wanted. Thank you so much for helping me.”

“Of course! You know, you should come by some other time. I can put some of these clips in your hair. We could try out a bunch of different hairstyles together.”

“Yeah… I’d like that, actually.”

“Great! I’ll text you when I’m free.”

—

“Well, I should probably go. My match is on first.” Jack got up from the chair.

“Right, of course. One more thing.”

Jack looked at Matt confused. Matt leaned up to place a small kiss on Jack’s cheek.

“Good luck.” Matt said, pulling back.

Jack tried to ignore the blush quickly creeping up on his face. Matt noticed.

“Right! Thank you. I will see you some other time. Um- thanks for the hair and talk. Bye.” Jack quickly shuffled out of the room.

Matt couldn’t help but giggle at how cute Jack looked nervously blushing. He put his dangly earrings in and turned on the TV just to watch Jack’s match.

[cuupidsss]

Aidrn clark with an idol girlfriend??

Yess! I like this one. I’m figuring that this means K-pop idol, soo imma do that. ermm.. i’m lazy so imma do some headcanons and possibly a little more !! i’m sorry this is so late btw :(

—

-You and Aiden had been friends for a short amount of time, you really liked him. he was goofy but also strangely endearing and it was pretty much impossible to not become attached to such positive(?) energy!

-after some time you guys got together and you eventually told him you were debuting, he was a little confused but then he immediately knew what you meant.

-i can totally see him being into K-pop, like A LOT, he probably loves black pink and claims to be a original fan (he’s not but in heart he is), probably isn’t secretive about it.

-whenever he see’s you rehearsing by yourself he practically kicking his feet and giggling.

-has definitely gave you choreography ideas in which you most DEFINITELY gave to your choreographer.

-you had to keep your relationship on the low because you don’t want a shitty scandal, it’s annoying for Aiden cause he just wants to get your attention all the time (selfish little rat) but he understands! or does he?

“Aiden! no.” you mutter, you guys are in public at the moment, you decided you wanted to go shopping, a few people glance at you in recognization but don’t approach, your clearly busy.

Aiden tried to pull you over by holding your hand but you quickly pulled back, he turns to you, he’s still smiling but he doesn’t look as excited as he once did.

“huh?” he says, tilting his head, tho sigh at his incompetence, he sighs with you before laughing. “eh, come on!” he grabs you by the shoulder and you groan, following after him.

he doesn’t get the memo btw. (he just doesn’t care)

-has undoubtedly funded for things without your consent.

-likes to buy hair pieces that he thinks goes with your performance outfits, he likes everything to color coordinate.

-attend EVERY show, he buys tickets (even if you say you can give him some for free) and then makes sure they are front row. he loves watching you dance.

-doesn’t like dieting, he finds it weird. the first time you denied food he was kind like, ‘just eat it, no one’s watching’ and you were like, ‘bro… i just.. god, give it to me.’

-oddly skilled at makeup.. like can do some FIRE eyeliner 🔥🔥🔥

“Aiden, where did you learn this?” you ask, looking at your reflection in the mirror. he was standing above you, in between your legs to get closer.

“i don’t know, i just winged it.” he grins, putting his hand on your forehead and pulling your head back to examine his handy work.

“ow.” you say, your tone monotone, he doesn’t say much just stares at your face.

awkward.

-broken a bone on stage? he’s literally here for you pooks. thirsty? he bought like 10 extra water bottle. literally wanna go home? you can’t.

-when people throw stuff at you on stage he literally starts internally tweaking, who in the freaky deeky did that?

-brings the whole gang to your shows, or just some of them if the others aren’t free.

-jokes about Ayego on the regular, when you side eye him he’s just like; 🤗

-loves and i mena loves when you show off your outfits for your shows, sometimes they aren’t super extra and other times your fully decked out and he just adores it.

-listens to your music proudly, if anyone asks for music suggestion best bet he’s naming AT LEAST ten of your songs.

-quick tyler headcanon, if this was about him i would say he would be someone like, “you know my girlfriend band\girl group? name 5 songs.” okay, done.

-anyway, back to Aiden!!! :9

-i don’t view him as someone who gives a lot of kisses.. at all, but he likes celebratory hugs.

“Aiden! holy shit! my groups music video got like.. 19 million views!” you run up to him at lunch, you ecstatic, so ecstatic and Aiden turns towards you and you both are looking at one another for a minute.

give it a minute and you both are jumping around and giggling, he’s like “that’s so cool!”

-all in all, he’s genuinely your biggest fan.

lemme know if the mischaracterization goes crazy y’all 🥰😦

[panjakes]

Hello my friend, I hope that you are having a good day! 😊 Well, For my first request, I wanted to see if you could do a headcanon with BTS x short black!reader (Short meaning like 5’2 in height and who’s from America with Trinidad and Tobago Caribbean roots/culture which includes the accent,food and of course Soca Carnival) who they date, want to marry and have children with in the future? ( You can choose how many kids each of them should have!)

-straight up loves everything about you.

-Your hair, your looks, your body, your style, your laugh, your culture. Everything about you

-Loves when you cook traditional foods for him. Enjoys it everytime

-Enjoys your company. Wants to spend every minute of his day with you

-Makes fun of your height

-tries not to laugh when you yell at him with your thick accent

-Always goes with you to celebrate carnival

-always has a good time watching you dance and celebrate

-Usually just sits back watches you have fun with the biggest smile on his face

-Turns you down when you invite him to dance

-Somehow you finally convince him and now your dancing on him

-All he did was stuff his face

“This is good! What is it again?!”

-Really enjoyed seeing you doing your cultural things

-Lowkey missed it when you two left to go home

-Talked about it everyday and how you two were going again

-Definitely started thinking of marriage after

-Wanted you guys children to be apart of both cultures

-Very much excited when you did fall pregnant

-Wouldn’t stop touching you

“Taehyung stop touching me!”

“Sorry… I can’t help it”

-There every emotion and craving

“Bae can you get me some hot Cheetos?”

“I don’t think you should feed our love child that”

-Immediately goes and get hot Cheetos(and more) after you attacked him with a pillow

-Stays up with you when the baby is keeping you up with its kicking

-Randomly asked how you felt about marrying him

“So, will you marry me?”

“Is this how you ask me?”

“…Yeah”

“Yeah why not?”

“Is that how you respond?”

-It was a very nice ceremony

-Wouldn’t stop crying and calling you his wife

“That’s my wife’s plate”

“My wife said she wants a Pepsi”

“Yeah my wife is having a baby”

-Still couldn’t stop touching you even at the party

-Wasn’t shameful or discrete about it

-Still made fun of your height even at the party

“Your dress is dragging”

“I know”

“It’s because your short”

“Okay taehyung” you say getting irritated

“I wonder if our daughter will be short”

“OKAY TAEHYUNG”

-Very excited when you went into labor

-was frantic while you were calm

-literally had everything packed and triple checked everything

-Held your hand the whole time

-kept telling you To be calm when he was STILL frantic

“Calm down babe it’s okay I promise!”

“Taehyung I’m fine!”

-Was very excited to hold his daughter for the first time

-Also cried when she started crying

-damn near wouldn’t let you hold her

-overall best girl dad ever

-you never made a bottle or changed a diaper

-but it was different with your second kid, boy was tired

-“Babe Tahari is crying”

-“Well go get him”

-“I’m holding Tatum”

-Still beat dad

-Type of dad to have one baby on the back and one on the front

-Holds both babies at once

-Likes to travel with your babies to both of your countries

-Feeds them Traditional food

“Eat it, its curry goat” he says pushing the spoon into your one year old daughters mouth who gladly ate it

-Dresses the kids alike ALL THE TIME

-“Taehyung they aren’t twins”

-“But aren’t they cute?!”

-Always matching family outfits. Color coordinated

-Overall very good dad and very good husband

@lelewright1234 I tried!!! I hope it was okay.

[le-trash-prince]

Okay since it’s been a couple episodes since the last time I took a look at Jeff’s visions, I figured I’d break down the few missing pieces we have left, based on what onscreen info we already have.

Cut for speculation, not-technically spoilers but possibly spoilery

Okay first off... it's Tony stabbing/shooting time hell yeah. (I never really doubted that this was Tony but I do like to be certain)

The plaid patterning and buttons on this suit from Jeff's vision match what he wears at the end of ep 12/beginning of ep 13. With the wound hidden, we can't tell what weapon was used (forensic scientists chime in), but with all of the shooting going on in the preview, it's most likely a bullet wound. Even though in my heart I wish it were Kenta's knife, but I will bow to reason this time.

HOWEVER.

He's wearing a different suit in this part of the vision. I can't get a clear view of the fabric, but the buttons are clearly plain buttons that match the color of his vest.

So I do think that whatever wound he receives in the first part of ep 13 won't be anywhere near-fatal, since he's apparently going to recover enough to swing a fucking sword. BOO.

Possible scenarios:

he gets hit in a non-fatal area on purpose in order to frame X-Hunter in front of the media (I'm not leaning towards this one)

he's a powered Alpha/Enigma with a self-healing ability

If he's using the sword on Kenta I'm flying through my screen to end him.

Those are all my thoughts on that part.

Next up we have the mysterious cameraman, who is revealed to be one of the press at the auction. (So, not a surprise extra cast member acting as Jeff's spy, which is a possibility I threw out in my earlier post. And by Jeff's spy I mean the one he said coordinated Kim's release. WHICH REALLY ONLY LEAVES KENTA AT THIS POINT. I'm going to keep saying this until they give us that fucking flashback.)

If we're taking the onscreen visions to be literal representations of what Jeff sees, then Jeff either would not have known what this was, or done some major conjecturing. But if the visions are more a symbolic representation, then we can assume that Jeff knew he was going to have a chance to reveal Tony in front of the media, especially since he saw himself at the auction, and he's apparently got a speech prepared for this moment.

Next up is Winner... Winner stans look away it's not pretty...

:(

This one probably needs no explanation. We all know it's Kim rescuing his babies, right? Maybe he survives this.... but it looks pretty bad to me. I’m not ready for it tbh :(

The only other thing we haven’t seen yet is this microscopey looking shot. My best guess is we may get some explanation from Babe’s dad on the special powers, but I really have no idea what I’m looking at here lol.

That's all from me from this week. There's a shot of Babe and Charlie in Tony's office, but it doesn't tell us anything we don't know from the preview.

I would like to go back at some point and do comparison shots of everything Jeff saw in his visions with what actually happened.

Thoughts? Anything I missed?

[minnlahzz]

pokespe characters with a s/o that wears lolita fashion.

requested.

too lazy to color the pictures blue, but they look good either way so!! I chose my favorite characters, because I'm biased, but if you want to see more then give me another ask! again I'm biased, you'll see why I'm repeating this when seeing the length of each person

characters — platinum, y, silver and gold (I love him)

— PLATINUM

platinum is a pretty classy gal. she's a big fan of victorian and rococo fashion, because they show formality and royalty. (in some way)

when she saw you dress in this style, her eyes widened as if she saw the prettiest thing ever! (she did) she likes knowing more about your style, and would definitely wear it with you. platinum notices the details most people overlook, like the embroidery on the frills of the skirt or the colors of each piece of clothing you wear.

please do her makeup, it's a dream! she won't wash off her face at all, you'd have to tell her to take it off. if not platinum will watch you do your make up for hours.

platinum's born to a wealthy family, so she is STACKED. platinum pays for everything you buy, if you buy her one she'll melt like a vanillish on a summer day. (positive) she goes shopping alot, so she is more than happy to show you around the malls and the hidden treasures she's found in there. if the items you're looking for aren't there she commissions people to make them for you!

she is a ball of positivity, she'll encourage you to get out of your comfort zone and wear your style in public (if you dont already). if you're a coordinator she'll encourage you to wear your lolita outfits in performances, and will even help you plan them out as a person whose won 2 ribbons.

— Yvonne

she really didn't care much, if you like what you're wearing then she has no room to talk with what you like.

yvonne values individuality and wouldn't see you any different if you didnt wear your style, she genuinely admires what you do! she's pretty good with fashion, so if you want a critique with kind of broken ratings get yourself your own yvonne! "needs to be more boom–shakalaka", "more fluffy!", "that color doesn't match the top." okay maybe the last one was helpful, but everything else is just her talking without thinking.

she's definitely the best person on this list to shop with, she'll pick out outfits she thinks will look good on you. it's just that she rarely goes shopping, because she rarely needs new clothes or accessories.

yvonne sees this style all the time in the kalos region, and yet she knows little about lolita fashion. if you want, you can tell her terms, types of lolitas, she'll appreciate it even if it's not her really her thing. she appreciates the dedication you people do for your style.

she naturally has a chivalrous side to her, so she'll always offer to help you whenever you're struggling. yvonne is quick on her feet, when you're stepping out of vehicles, walking up or down stairs, walking on rocky ground she'll always offer a hand!

— SILVER

he's familiar with this fashion, having seen it in magazines, posters, and occasionally in the streets of the johto region. nothing too special in his eyes, he's been to alot of places, but he says you pull it off better than most. (he's totally unbiased)

silver has basic knowledge about this. lolita fashion aims to show elegance, so whenever he sees something that would fit your style he'd buy it or point it out if you're near him.

"hey, this looks fitting, do you want it?" he asked grabbing something from the shelf.

while he may not be overly expressive, silver is supportive in subtle ways. he'd buy you surprise gifts, (with the help of green) and would walk around the shops with you if you were looking for something to buy. another way he'd do this is by listening to you yap and yap without ever getting sleepy. he's an attentive listener, but he wouldn't talk over you during your yapping sessions unless you asked him something.

speaking of not being overly expressive he has his own way of complimenting you, silvers smooth with it and he doesn't even notice.

"this fashion style is about elegance and beauty right? you sure make it look effortless."

I think out of all of them, he'd give actual good (average) fashion advice if you asked him directly, despite him wearing literally all black. silver is pretty straightforward and blunt with his opinions, not outright mean though. "I think this looks better" and "maybe try this one?" the fits always turn out really neat!

— GOLD

the second he spots you he's instantly curious, he's seen this style before in johto but never really understood why they wore this stuff. he'll ask some pretty weird questions, or give backhanded compliments, but he's not insulting you in anyway! he finds it pretty cool.

"are you dressing up for a tea party"

"execuse me?" you answered, making him even more confused.

he's interested in the fashion, tell him the difference between the blouses, petticoats, either way it won't matter because he'll forget it and you'll have to remind him. sometimes he's probably just pretending to forget it, so that he can see you get irritated.

drowns you in compliments and words you didn't even know existed, he's just a boy inlove. gold will be your personal photographer! he's surprisingly good at taking pictures, and he'll show you the pictures afterwards gushing out about how cool you looked

like everyone else he's supportive of how you dress! he'll always reassure you that he and everyone else love your style. he's pretty laid–back and kind of mean sometimes, but he knows when to draw the line.

"do i look weird?" you asked him randomly as you guys took a walk, gold stops in his tracks, raises an eyebrow, and crosses his arms.

“weird? you kidding?” he takes a moment to look you over, and then grins. “nah, not weird at all—you look awesome! like, actually way cooler than half the people here.”

sometimes gold will stare at you doing your makeup like a lovestruck fool, just thinking to himself "a person like them is interested in a person like me? woah, jirachi has blessed me yet again" he's lucky to have you.

shameless, he's not scared to tell people "you see that? that's my s/o!" because he's proud, but if you don't like it don't worry he'll shut up.

[cleolinda]

Okay, I am having an issue I can only attribute to The Autism, and I am curious as to whether anyone else vibes with this:

I have an extreme aversion to wearing brown clothing. Like to the point where I started to wonder if I was persecuted by colonial Puritans or steampunk pilots in another life or some shit. It has only developed since I became an adult; I had a perfectly witchy brown and black maxi dress I wore as a teenager, and a pair of shoes I got compliments on all the time. Brown is fine in nature, in decor, on animals, on other people, on anything that isn't me. Love a good neutral (can lean slightly warm) brown eyeshadow; looks great with my complexion. Brown eyes of all shades are beautiful and I love them (I have green). Don't drink coffee but it's not brown's fault. Buy me a chocolate factory and I'll live in it. No real fight to pick with the mere existence of brown.

I wear black. Accessories, shoes, purses, jewelry, wardrobe staples, whatever: always black for the last 20+ years, never brown. It's like I decided that if I always stuck to black, everything would always coordinate, and it just... spiraled from there?

When I went to pick up my new glasses a couple weeks ago, there was some kind of mix-up, and the frames weren't black; they were a dark, almost-black brown with light amber mottling: tortoiseshell. "I HATE TORTOISESHELL" I blurted out (once the sales associate wasn't present. Nobody is paying him enough to deal with that kind of weirdness). I really did not know that I hated tortoiseshell at all until it came up when I was first browsing frames three weeks prior, and I blurted out, "I HATE TORTOISESHELL." I did not know this about myself! It might not have even been true until that moment! It's not the pattern; it's purely the very yellow/orange-leaning shade of brown, on me. Tortoiseshell is lovely on other people! It's aesthetically cromulent! I reacted like someone had offered me a tarantula. I don't know.

I have now reacted so bizarrely--I've spat out "I HATE BROWN" on previous occasions as well--that I'm trying to unpack what the fuck is going on. My best theory at this point is that it has something to do with a neurodivergent aversion to yellow, which I REALLY REALLY HAVE. (Again, yellow is fine wherever doing its own thing, love a gently yellow flower, but I do not want to wear it and it kind of hurts my eyes a little if it's too much. Like I almost feel queasy.) I keep trying to stress-test this aversion in my mind--what shade of brown would I wear? A sweater that's such a dark and neutral brown that it's almost black? A really pretty "brown sugar" color like the eyeshadow I like so much? "Redwood"? "Raw umber"? "Beaver" (........)?

My secondary theory is that it might come down to some kind of involuntary self-assertion thing. "I SAID I WEAR BLACK, WHY AREN'T YOU LISTENING TO ME??" I think... that's a good bit what happened with the glasses. Although I really do react very strongly to the sight of the amber bits (on me).

Anyway, I am usually a very measured, even stoic person with this kind of thing--to the point where I don't stand up for myself enough--so here we are, trying to figure this out. Do you have any kind of vehement aversion like this? Not to something rational (I can't deal with seafood and I stand by that), but like, "I jump back from this like a vampire from garlic and I have no idea why"?

[biffhofosho]

Hot Girls _____ | Chapter Two

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: I've had this done for days. Life is so mean not to give me the time to publish. :( Please enjoy!

Cvr | 01 | 02

It was late afternoon by the time the pair arrived at Gossamer, a boutique store in Gastown that Vi had found online. It was far hipper than any place she had ever shopped, and she would have found it too intimidating to enter if her best friend hadn’t been at her side, hands in his pockets and shrewd eyebrows up.

Everything inside was pink or black—pink walls, black racks, pink chandeliers, black couches. One wall was studded with pink neon signs with sassy sayings like “Bad Bitch” and “Flex on Your Ex” and, below them, they featured full-length mirrors and sample outfits. The racks were color-coordinated and tarted up with nothing but dresses and bodysuits, each one chicer and more daring than the last.

It was exactly the right vibe. Unfortunately, Vi brought the world’s pickiest critic.

“I know it's your personality,” grumbled Changkyun from his chair across from her dressing stall, “but would you please quit trying to floor it? Go the speed limit for once.”

Vi scowled, knuckles whitening as she gripped the hem of the current dress’s miniskirt. “What’s wrong with this one now?”

He tilted his head, his temple resting on his fist as he propped up his arm on the bolster. His tongue raced over his teeth behind his lips before he let out a slow breath. “You don’t have to show a ton of skin to be hot, Viola. I mean, okay, sure, it doesn’t hurt, but what you really have to show is confidence. I need you to start thinking about this like a fisherman.”

“Like a fisherman! What the hell does that mean? You want me in a slicker and boots?”

After twenty minutes of shooting down every damn look, Changkyun rose from his chair and approached her. Vi got the uneasy feeling that she wasn’t a fisherman at all but the bait for the sharks as he circled her, hands in his jean pockets. He sized up the gaudy royal blue chainmail fabric, the too-low cowl neck, mirrored thigh slits, and, finally, her exposed back, but his face revealed nothing as usual.

“Think about it,” he said in his low gravel. “You need the right gear for your intended catch, but you have to know what you're fishing for. This dress is a net, Viola. It's going to pull in everything, including the stuff nobody wants.”

Her best friend’s aura was always intense, but right now, his condescension took over. Viola’s bare back bristled. “What are you talking about? I saw this exact dress on a girl you took home.”

He snorted. “Yeah, okay, maybe, but the one thing she had that you lack is experience.”

“Low blow, man,” Vi pouted and stacked her arms across her chest.

“I'm not talking about sex even though you're the one who said as much the other night,” he pointed out. “I'm talking about one-night stands. She knew how to pick out the bites she'd like best and throw back the ones that would disappoint or, more importantly, be dangerous. You haven’t learned those things yet.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sounds like you’re just giving yourself a backhanded compliment.”

“Viola.”

Changkyun’s stern voice penetrated the quiet salon’s air. Her hands fell limply to her side at once.

He narrowed his eyes. “You get my meaning now?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Look, we can work our way up to this. Remember what I said. Baby steps. You don't think this was the dress that girl chose for the first time out, do you?”

“How should I know?”

“Exactly,” he said with a pleased smile. Suddenly, Changkyun turned and as he walked back to his chair, he said, “Don't get me wrong, you look incredibly hot in it.”

“Really?”

He smiled at her again, but this time, there was something different in it, and once again, Vi was reminded of that shark. “Absolutely, and if you weren't my best friend, I would one-million-percent approach you in the club, but I would be one of a hundred guys, and most of them won't see you in the dress. They'll see an opportunity—a checkbox. So until you learn how to spot the users, we’ll find you something that will make you feel hot and secure. Besides, a little mystery is good.”

“Hasn’t worked for me the last 25 years,” she quipped.

“No offense, Viola, but you are charmingly easy to read.”

“Well, I don’t like keeping secrets…”

Changkyun pressed his lips together. After a moment, he nodded. “I know. I know. But I’m not talking about keeping secrets. We’re just talking about one-night stands, right?”

“Right.”

“So you don’t need to know everything about each other. Maybe you won’t even know each other’s names. Does that bother you?”

“N-no.”

“You don’t like secrets, remember, and I won’t let you have them with me for this to work. You know that.”

Changkyun was right—this dress exposed far too much, but Vi had nowhere to retreat except behind her crossed arms. She chewed her bottom lip before she answered again, “Yeah, I know. I’m really fine with it. I guess it just hits different when you say it.”

“Okay,” he said. “Just know you can back out at any time if you need to.”

She huffed. “Is that what this is? Are you trying to make me back out of this?”

“As if I could.”

“Good,” she said, her arms at last dropping to her sides, her chest thrust out as proudly as her chin. “Because I’m not going to back down. I’m going to take this all the way.”

“Then I’ll stay by your side like I promised.”

Something about the way his chocolate eyes met hers made Vi’s heart shift in her chest. She glanced at her sandaled feet as she replied, “I know. Thanks, Kyun.”

Changkyun sighed and rubbed his palms along the armrests. “Okay, then let’s get you into something else. You need something that makes you feel hot while looking mysterious.”

She scoffed. “This is way more strategy than I thought. Fine. You pick something out for me.”

Her friend nearly did a double-take. “What?”

“You don't like anything that I've picked, so why don't you pick something? Just remember what I'm going for here. Not something I might have worn before but something I need to wear now.”

“Viola—”

“We’ll be here for another three hours if you don’t,” she warned.

With a sigh, he stood up and paced the racks, his calm eyes scanning a rainbow of mini dresses. After several minutes, he came back to the dressing room, a perfectly blank expression on his face.

“One dress? Really?” she said with an eyebrow popped.

“The dress,” he corrected.

“Cocky.” Vi was about to head into the room when she furrowed her brow. “Kyun, this is something my grandmother would wear.”

“You know I know Grandma Viv, and I love her, but nobody wants to see her in this dress.”

“Hey!” Changkyun stared at her and, finally, Vi relented. “Fine, maybe not, but come on, this is like a parka compared to what I picked.”

“And your point?”

She scowled. “I’m trying to get laid, remember? I’d wear something like this to a wedding.”

“First of all, you would not. I’ve been your date to a dozen weddings by now, and I’ve never seen you wear something like this. Second, this dress will one hundred percent get you laid. I guarantee it.”

Vi turned her gaze back down to the tangerine number in her hands. It was the same stretchy bodycon material as many of the things she’d tried on, but apart from a halter neck and some satiny ribbons at the back tie, it looked about as plain as something in this store could get. She looked back at her friend dubiously, but Changkyun was unrepentant as he returned to his chair and sat down for what he clearly considered the last outfit of their fashion show.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” she said.

“I am. Look, the color will make your skin tone shine, and the cut will flaunt your assets.”

“Which are?” she prodded with a cheeky smile.

“Your assets, Viola,” he repeated stubbornly, but his eyes slid to her curvaceous hips and thighs, and she grinned, victorious.

“Fine, I’ll take your word for it, but I still think it’s a little boring. There’s no cleavage at all, and there’s a freaking bow at the back. I’m trying to get away from cutesy, remember?”

Changkyun folded his arms in a way that smacked all too hard of an unswerving CEO. “I promise you, you will look anything but cute in it.”

“I’d better.”

“Put it on, Viola,” he ordered, and it made her mouth go dry.

She retreated behind the saloon door and reluctantly swapped her “open 24/7” dress for what she was convinced would be more “help wanted”, but after she’d shimmied the vibrant fabric over her full thighs and fuller hips and then tied the bow behind her neck, she turned toward the mirror and her jaw dropped.

Damnit. He was right.

She looked hot. She looked damn hot.

The orange did amplify the exotic warmth of her skin and, like a buttercup beneath the chin, reflected attention to her face. A little notch on the skirt she hadn’t noticed before gave a sultry window to more thigh, and though there wasn’t cleavage on display, the snug of the dress across the curves of her chest was just as provocative.

She pivoted and glanced over her shoulder to find her ass looked just as round as a tangerine itself, and her back was far more exposed than she expected, allowing the halter ribbons to sway tantalizingly against the bare flesh there.

Vi smiled at herself, once in triumph before she tested out a few other versions that ran the gamut between coy, seductive, and hungry—or perhaps they all looked the same. She’d have to practice a bit more before she was confident she was nailing the hot girl vibe.

Finally ready, she swung open the door.

“That’s the one,” her best friend said, those cat-like eyes thin and stealthy as he regarded her from his seat.

“You think?”

Before Vi could step out of the changing room, Changkyun was out of his seat and in the dressing room beside her, the door swinging shut behind him. Trapped in such a small space with her best friend made things… weird. Through the thin fabric, should could feel his body heat, and it carried with it notes of leather and vanilla. She had spent much of her life by his side, but she swore she’d never smelled his skin so clearly.

“Do you love it?” he asked.

Vi bit her lip and nodded sheepishly. “I love it.”

“Mm.”

He surprised her by grabbing her bare shoulders and whirling her around so she faced the mirror, him behind her. His sharp chin hovered near the crook of her neck as Changkyun continued, “Do me a favor.”

“Uh, okay?” she hedged.

“Close your eyes and picture the man you want to fuck.”

Her head whipped back as she readied to argue with him, and she realized too late that it all nearly ended in disaster. With his face so close, only a piece of paper could have fit in the space between their lips. Vi recoiled. He did not.

“Im Changkyun!” she scolded as she hurried to return her attention to the mirror.

“You said you’d listen to me,” he reminded matter-of-factly, and her temper evened out.

“Yeah, okay, fine.” She was all too happy to close her eyes now anyway.

“Picture him,” he said lowly. “Everything about him. Not just his looks but the kind of lover you need him to be.”

Resentfully, Vi squeezed her eyes shut. It took much longer than she expected considering she’d been fantasizing about this exact thing night after night for months, but she blamed it on Changkyun’s use of the word “lover.” Finally, though, the haze of her mind began to solidify into a silhouette. The shadow man moved closer, and though she couldn’t make out any of his features, his body began to take shape. Lean, defined, strong. There were tattoos there, though nothing specific besides the fact that there was a sheen of sweat glazing all of them from the hard work he’d been putting in to please her. His movements were confident and intentional from plenty of expertise.

A sliver of light illuminated a pair of lips. Soft. Delicious. The bow just a bit sharp to hint at how wicked they could be but the bottom fuller and smoother with the promise of the sweetest finish.

Vi licked her own lips.

“Good,” hummed Changkyun, and the ice water of reality washed away her fantasy.

“What’s the point of all this, Kyun?” she said both exasperated and desperately eager to move on.

“I want you to see how a dress like this will do more for you than those other ones from before.”

“Okay, but why?”

“When you know what you want and how to get it, you won’t settle for less. Dress for the fuck you want.”

Vi scrunched her nose. “You wouldn’t think it to look at you, but you also go from zero to eleven real quick, man.”

“You have no idea.”

Now she was scrunching her eyebrows.

“See,” Changkyun continued, directing her gaze back to herself in the mirror, “no man’s going to miss this dress even in a crowded club. Everyone knows how sweet a tangerine is, and they’re going to want a piece.”

“Man, you silver-tongued—” Vi cut herself off with a shake of her head. “Okay, yeah. Fine. I’m feeling you now.”

“Good because that dream man you just pictured? This is how you reel him in. There’s no shortage of selfish, lazy fucks out there, but you need a man who understands and appreciates a woman’s body. A dress like this will make him appreciate it. It’s a tease. He’ll have that sweet first taste, and he’ll find himself imagining what more is waiting for him. See the way it cinches your waist? It’s inviting hands to grab right here.”

His hands hovered at the first swell of her hips. Through the fabric, Vi could feel his residual heat like a steam from a mug, but Changkyun kept his distance, and after a moment, they fell back to his side.

“So, you’ve changed your mind about this dress?” he said with a smirk.

“You were right,” she admitted sulkily.

“Mm. And you were worried you’d only be cute… See, with the bow, now you’re something special to unwrap,” he said as he swung her around again, back to the mirror, his fingertips glancing across the tails of the ribbons and, inadvertently, her spine, “but if he’s too desperate to manage that, it’s a short detour to pleasure no matter where you end up.”

Vi imagined for a split second that her best friend’s fingertip had grazed the back of her thigh where the hem hugged beneath her ass, but she knew that had to be a byproduct of the image he’d painted. After all, Changkyun had always been good with words, especially for the kind of sultry music he wrote.

“So we’re done here?” he prompted.

“Yeah, teach.”

“Perfect. Now, take it off.”

It wasn't like the order he had given her to put it on. This—this was quiet… breathy…

Eager.

But when he spoke again, he added flippantly, “I want to get going.”

Vi crashed back down to earth like a payload of bricks. “Fine, then get out.”

She shoved her friend bodily through the door and let out a heavy breath the second she had the space back to herself. She hadn’t realized how heavy and close the air was until she was alone again.

Fast as she could, Vi dressed back in her shorts and oversized hoodie and returned with the orange dress on her arm.

“Okay, okay, we’re done,” she said.

“Actually, not just yet,” corrected Changkyun.

She popped a lush eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t even want to do this part. What else is there?”

He hummed. “I want you to start thinking 4D.”

“As in ‘four dicks’?”

“Jesus, Viola. I mean dimensions. Four dimensions.”

“Well, I don’t know! After all that ‘dream lover’ talk or whatever, I wasn’t sure what channel we were on.”

“Your dream fuckboy has four dicks?” Changkyun asked with a smirk.

“Oh, shut up. I’m eager, but I’m not that greedy. What the hell does four dimensions mean anyway?”

“There's a beauty store around the corner. I'll show you.”

Vi bought the dress, both associates eyeing her and her friend suspiciously, and the realization that they assumed something had happened in the changing room made her wince, but if Changkyun noticed, he didn't acknowledge it.

He took her bag and headed out the front door with her in tow. Her best friend was rarely chatty—usually he left the course of conversation up to her—but Vi had run out of things to talk about. Though it had always been the point of this mission, her mind was fixed on the fantasy Changkyun had ruthlessly conjured, and she couldn't unstick it.

She was so busy riding that sweaty, shadowy tattooed man that she ran right into her best friend's back as he stopped.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Sorry. Daydreaming.”

He studied her for a second before he shifted his attention to the sleek display featuring a rainbow of bottles in the window. “We're here.”

“Hey, this place is fancy,” Vi observed as she looked up at the black-and-white Parisian awning over a gilded double door. “How did you know about it?”

“I buy my cologne here. Here's your next lesson: if you want to be a lure, make yourself a sensory experience.”

“A sensory experience? And you call me a nerd.”

“That means it’s not just visuals, Viola. Your smell, your skin, your—” Changkyun stopped. His lips mashed together as he considered, but after a rough swallow, he continued, “—your taste… this is what will ensure you have the best time because he’ll work harder for you because he’ll want to.”

Vi quirked a brow. “Damn, Kyun. Sometimes it sucks that you're my best friend.”

“It does?”

“Hell yeah. Otherwise, I’d be all over you.”

While Vi fiddled with a few bottles, Changkyun watched her. After a minute, he blurted, “Viola—”

“Can I help you two find anything?” An elegant blonde woman sidled up behind them with a polished smile that twisted into something much more seductive when her eyes caught Changkyun’s face. “Oh, it’s you. Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. How are you?”

He nodded and gave the other woman a polite smile. “Good, thanks. We’re all good.”

The associate’s smile faltered as she glanced to his companion before she echoed his polite nod and retreated behind the register.

Vi leaned up to her friend's ear and whispered, “Do I spy the next Mrs. One-night-only? Am I going to get to study the master in the wild up close? Ooh, I feel like Steve Irwin.”

“You know my rules,” he replied as he picked up a bottle and idly sniffed it.

Oh yeah, she thought. No familiar faces. No sleepovers. No repeats. How could she forget, especially after her disastrous go at Henry?

Changkyun had a lot of rules for his personal life and perfectly logical reasons for most of them. He wasn't shy about sharing them either. In fact, he laid them out for every woman he'd been with so there were fewer misunderstandings when their time was up. The only thing he refused to explain was why Vi had never seen him with a girlfriend—their entire lives. She had probed plenty of times, but the only thing he'd ever said on the matter was “There's no point.”

Unsatisfied, Vi said, “What if you ran into her at a club first and then saw her here?”

“If I did, you know I’d have to stop using this store.”

“Man, Kyun, I forget how strict you can be sometimes. Am I expected to do that, too?”

“These my rules, Viola. I don’t expect you to follow them the way I do, but you should consider some of your own. If you want to stay unattached, you need rules and the determination to stick to them.”

“You’re right. But I’m not letting some guy run me out of a store I like.”

Changkyun hummed. “That’s my girl.”

Vi returned her attention to the shelves and, more specifically, the price tags underneath. “Oh, man, these are expensive.”

“Real perfumes are,” he replied. “Don’t worry about it just yet, okay?”

“Guess my Vicki Secrets Honeysuckle Apricot body mist isn't cutting it anymore. What's wrong with my signature scent?”

“Nothing,” he assured. “It's perfect for making a man fall in love with you, but that's not what we're going for, is it?”

“Falling in love? Hell no.”

Changkyun smiled that special tight smile, the one that always told her he was holding something back, but it also meant that even if Vi asked, he wasn't going to tell her what it was.

Instead, she directed her attention to the array of glass bottles spaced far enough apart that it drew the eye one by one. Each bottle was an experience, though she expected that came with the price tag. Some were faceted like jewels and others were shaped elaborately like high heels or hearts or even hot air balloons. “Okay, so what is my cheap ass looking at here?”

“Think of the bottles the same way you thought of your clothing,” said Changkyun. “They give you a hint of what’s inside. Dark and seductive. Bright and lively. Deep and powerful. Let your eyes guide you the same as they will in a club.”

Vi looked up and down the rows where four bottles caught her attention. She wanted to grab the quirkier sculpture bottles, but she remembered her best friend’s lessons from the dress shop, and she decided she needed to think more sophisticated. She went for bottles of ruby and sapphire, black and gold, and she lined them up in front of her.

“Okay, now what?” she asked.

Changkyun appraised her choices, though his face didn’t reveal whether she’d done a good job or not. He reached down the line to little cotton strips propped up in a dish and grabbed several. He chose the ruby bottle first and brought the nozzle close to the strip as he said, “We'll spray them on some paper first to see if you like them.”

A quick spritz and then a brief fan of the paper in the air, and he offered it to Vi. Before it even got to her nose, she scowled.

“I don’t like it,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Ugh, it stinks?”

Changkyun shook his head. “No, what’s the note that you don’t like?”

“Kyun, I live my life in fruity body sprays. What do I know about this?”

He glowered at her. “Too flowery? Too powdery? Too masculine?”

“No. It smells like an old lady.”

Changkyun brought the paper to his nose now and breathed. His eyes rolled back as he considered before he said, “Mm, hints of iris and amber and definitely some rose. You’re right, it’s not the scent for you.”

It was Vi’s turn to glower at her friend. “You know, you really know how to flex without looking like it.”

They tried the sapphire bottle next, but this time Vi was clear on why she didn’t like it.

“Too flowery,” she blurted as she recoiled and rubbed her nose.

Changkyun smiled. “You’re a quick learner.”

Unfortunately, neither of the next two bottles were a fit either, and Vi was startling to feel a little defeated. If the goal was for her to be able to make the right picks to reel in the right guys, she was failing miserably, first at the clothing and now at the scents. All her planning showed how little she really knew about the waters into which she was trying to dip a toe.

“You’re doing fine, Viola,” Kyun said, reading her instantly. “It’s not a test. It’s a new experience. You can’t get it wrong. You can just learn from it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Her best friend studied her furrowed brow and, when she didn’t shake herself out of her funk, he suggested, “How about this? I’ll pick three scents that I think might suit you, and you tell me what you think.”

At this, Vi perked up. Curiosity overwhelmed her as she wondered how Changkyun could possibly sum her up in a fragrance. Only he would propose such a thing.

“Yeah, okay,” she said. “Bring it on.”

He nodded and headed down the row and then another and, in a blink, came back with three bottles as though he knew exactly which ones to grab.

She squinted at him. “That didn’t take very long.”

“Just try them,” he said dismissively.

Vi stared at him a minute longer, but he wasn’t budging and her curiosity was only increasing. She crinkled her broad nose and relented.

The first bottle was shaped like a poison apple, and after a quick spritz, her eyebrows raised. “Okay… Yeah, I actually like this one. It’s got some fruity notes. You know I like those.”

“I do,” Changkyun said with a smile.

“What is that I’m smelling? It’s sweet.”

“Vanilla. That’s a favorite scent for a lot of men.”

Vi bit her lip. “Tasty. I dig that.”

“Leave the paper there for a minute while you try the next. It’ll give the scent a little time to unfold. A good perfume changes over time.”

“Damn, okay, Mr. Nose. I’ll come back. Now, what’s this one?” She picked up a much less dramatic rectangular bottle in a translucent cherry red. It wasn’t one she would have picked up herself, but on first spray, the burst of cherry and almond hit her immediately, and she hurried for a second whiff. “Oh, this one smells delicious! But it’s not like my usual fruity stuff.”

Changkyun nodded. “This one’s darker. That’s the liquor in it.”

“Ooh, yeah? I like that. The guys will want to take a bite.”

Her friend didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Another whiff of the paper, and this one had definitely moved to the top of the list for now.

“Give it another minute,” he said and reached for a bowl of coffee beans sitting nearby. “Smell this.”

Vi popped an eyebrow. “Why?”

“It resets the nose. It’s easy to get the smells confused after a while.”

She shrugged and huffed the beans only to find it didn’t smell nearly as strong as she expected, but on second sniff, the coffee scent came through clearer.

“Ready?” Changkyun asked, and she nodded.

The last bottle he’d chosen was shaped like a diamond laying on its side. The black bow and smoky liquid inside gave Vi speakeasy vibes, and something about her drew her in from first sight. She sprayed a fresh paper strip, but she could smell it before she even brought it to her nose.

“Wow. Okay, wow.”

In a rare flash of brightness, Changkyun leaned forward and beamed from ear to ear. “You like it?”

“A lot! Definitely feels like nighttime. Maybe it’s ‘cause of the coffee beans, but I smell coffee in there somewhere. And there’s lots of fruits, too. And flower? Rose maybe? Okay, I don’t know what I’m talking about, but it’s super sexy.”

“Mm. If you want to know if it's a good match, you have to apply it to your skin though,” he said. “Fragrances wear differently on skin. It may smell good on paper, but there’s only one way to know if it will smell the same on you.”

Her friend grabbed her wrist and lifted it up, turning it over in his hand so the back of hers rested in the palm of his, his tan fingers curling around her toffee skin. Changkyun grabbed the bottle, the sultry liquid sloshing inside the glass facets, and he spritzed briefly across her pulse point.

“Give it a minute to dry down,” he instructed.

The first few seconds ticked by quickly, but somehow the next ticked by slower and slower, as though time itself had been trapped in molasses. Maybe it was because she was eager to smell her skin. Maybe it was because Changkyun was still cradling her hand and he’d never done such a thing before, and it was new.

In fact, today, things just felt a little weird between them. Most likely, it was the strain of their mentor/mentee relationship. They’d never had a dynamic like that before; not to mention, Vi had been out of school for several years now, so she hadn’t really planned for assignments and exams and, well, obvious failures of both this late in her life. It was more stress than she’d anticipated, even if her mentor was the person she trusted most.

But Changkyun remained just as unbothered as he usually looked. When he judged the time right, he raised her wrist to his nose and inhaled. Vi waited for him to comment, but he said nothing. Instead, he pushed her hand back toward her and said, “Here. What do you think?”

He guided her wrist to her nose this time, and she breathed in deeply, once, then twice. She closed her eyes and breathed in a third time.

Suddenly, she wasn’t in a store at all, but a crowded club. Strobe lights winked, skirts rolled up thighs, steam wafted off rolling bodies. It was intense, warm, and incredibly intimate all at once.

“Mm,” she murmured, “there’s the fruit and the rose again, but there’s something deeper. Reminds me of something from college. Incense, maybe?”

He hummed. “Patchouli I’d guess, yeah. I’m getting a lot of creamy caramel, too.”

Something about the way he said it made Vi’s brain flatline same as it had in the changing room when he was coaching her. This was the hardest she’d worked on anything since college. No wonder she was stressed out.

She sniffed her skin again and scowled. “You think it's a little strong for me?”

Changkyun stared at her. “Viola, you can pull off anything you want to. You just have to want to. A fragrance like this will give you that aura of confidence that you want.”

“You think?”

“If you let it,” he insisted. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” She paused. “Do you think guys will like it?”

“Without a doubt, but it’s important you love it, too. Just make sure it doesn’t give you a headache. You come first, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Changkyun narrowed his eyes. “I mean it, Viola. Deep-ending things can drown you.”

“I know, Kyun.”

Vi sniffed her wrist again and smiled. She smelled powerful and alluring, and she felt it, too. Her best friend was right. At the end of the day, this was about her and the woman she wanted to be, and she’d never been more grateful to have a man like Changkyun in her corner to remind her of that.

“But it's only for night time, okay?” he said abruptly, and it jerked her out of her thoughts. His back was to her as he returned the other bottles to their sections, though he said over his shoulder, “Don't go wearing that to work.”

Vi laughed. “Why not?”

“Just… don't.”

“Okay fine, man of mystery,” she agreed with a smile.

“Again with the sass,” he scolded. “I’m not trying to be mysterious, you know. I thought I was being pretty transparent.”

“Nothing about you is transparent, Kyun.”

He returned his attention to her long enough to study her face, and then he let out a sigh. He held the bottle in his hand, his thumb polishing one of the facets as he said, “This perfume? It's a love spell. Cast it wisely.”

“I thought we were avoiding love?”

“Different kind of love,” he clarified. “This kind only lasts as long as this scent does.”

“Sounds like you've got a new song in the making,” she teased.

But he remained serious as said, “Don’t waste it on your coworkers.”

With that, Changkyun turned toward the register and the lengthy blonde waiting behind it, who perked the second he headed toward her. Vi hurried to catch up, and when she got there, the associate was already in the back fetching a fresh bottle.

His card was already out of his wallet as he said, “I’ll buy it for you.”

“No, Kyun,” she said waving her hands, “you don’t need to—”

“You weren't expecting to buy it, so I'm not going to make you.”

“But I already owed you dinner to thank you for today.”

“You can take me out another night this week.”

Vi’s eyebrows scrunched. “What about band practice?”

“It’s not every night. Besides, I have to eat, right? You could just swing by one of the nights. The guys would like to see you, too.”

“Okay, fine. I can bring Chicken Box for them,” she suggested.

“And what about for me?” he said with an uncharacteristic pout.

Vi laughed. “All these years, and I’ve rarely seen you jealous. It looks cute on you.”

“I wasn’t going for cute,” he retorted. “I was going for hot.”

She snarled and gave her best friend a shove to his shoulders. “You ass. Maybe I’ll just feed your friends, and I won’t bring you anything at all now.”

“Fine,” he said, hands on his hips as he leaned in with a smug smile. “Then you’ll owe me a private dinner later.”

“Fine,” she responded just as childishly.

For a minute, they stared each other down like it was high noon in the Old West, but Vi broke first, the corner of her lips twitching, and then her best friend followed until they were both laughing as the saleswoman returned.

As soon Vi’s perfume was bagged, Changkyun paid the bill and nodded toward the door. “Come on, let’s get going.”

“Kyun, no more, okay? I don’t know how other people do this much shopping. I’m exhausted.”

“So am I. Now, I’m just hungry.”

At this, Vi perked. “Good. What do you want to eat? The ramen shop Hoseok’s always rambling about is a couple blocks down if you want, or we can get some Vietnamese or Indian. It’s my thanks to you, so it’s your call, but nothing too greasy if you don’t want me falling asleep at the table.”

“Ramen’s good.”

Though Vi was decidedly more extroverted than Changkyun, she loved their easy silences, especially ones like this one. They strolled down the sidewalk under breeze-shaken maples, cars ebbing and flowing like the English Bay. The sun was warm between the skyscrapers, and nearby, silverware clinked in cafes. Sometimes, she would randomly lose her walking partner only to find him stopped somewhere behind her, squinting through storefront displays at Balenciaga or Burberry. Changkyun never said why, but she like to imagine he was dreaming about what he would buy if he made it big with his music someday. He'd always had expensive taste though he rarely splurged.

They stopped at an intersection a block away from the restaurant when a car pulled to a stop at the light, blasting some club pop remix as the driver and passenger scream-sang the lyrics, and a light bulb lit in Vi’s head.

“Hey, that reminds me,” she blurted as she swiveled to face her friend. “What’s the timeline on this mentorship because Tara texted me this flyer that on Wednesday, there’s this DJ—”

Her friend shook his head swiftly. “Wednesday? Viola, no. You’re not ready. You’re nowhere near ready.”

“Not ready? Kyun, we’ve got the bait,” she said as she waggled both handfuls of bags. “Now, we just need a fishing hole.”

“Look, do you just want sex or do you want good sex?”

“Obviously the good stuff…”

“Then pump the brakes,” he said, exasperated. “I feel like you’re not listening to a word I say.”

“That’s not true. I’ve listened to at least five of them,” she replied with a smirk, and Changkyun rolled his eyes.

Just then, her phone rang, and she groped through her hoodie pockets for it. She didn’t have the number in her contacts, but she could have sworn she’d seen it before, so she answered.

“Hello, is this Viola Flowers?” said a rich baritone on the other end.

“Yeah, this is. Who’s this?”

“Oh, hello. This is Son Hyunwoo, from your room. Oh, apologies,” he said immediately. “I mean, I’m the one who looked at renting your spare room.”

Vi pulled to a stop, a big smile on her face. Changkyun stopped, too, watching her with squinted eyes.

“Oh, hey, yeah! I was just talking about you last night,” she said, and her friend tipped his head like a cat unraveling a curious sound. “I’m glad you called. I thought it over, and, yeah, the room’s yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Hyunwoo asked.

“I mean, Minhyuk tried his best to ruin it for you, but if you help me keep his unannounced visits to a minimum, we’re on.”

“I think I can manage that. That’s exactly why I need to move out of his townhome actually. He thinks he’s the lord of the land. I have no room in my life for it.”

Hyunwoo’s tone was so even and serious, it took Vi a lot longer to process his words, and when she did, she brightened. “Was that—was that a pun?”

“I just mean some time apart is meant to be,” Hyunwoo continued unflinchingly. “I need a new sublease on life.”

“I guess it’s not normal wear and tear on your nerves, huh?” Vi prompted, and she could hear the man on the other of the line let out a short, friendly laugh, which made her burst out laughing. She bit her lip to temper her laughter before she trumpeted, “I knew it! It was a terrible pun! And then another? And another? Wow. Just wow. Bad puns are my life blood, but some people don’t really appreciate them.”

She cast a pointed side-eye to her friend, though Changkyun was decidedly unamused. In fact, something about his naturally sharp body lines looked cold and wicked as the steel of a blade.

Vi forced her attention back to her caller and said, “It’s nice to meet another aficionado for the craft of world play. So, you still want to rent the room, right?”

“I do,” Hyunwoo said. “My lease goes through the end of the month here, and I know last time we talked, I said I wouldn’t know if I could even move to the end of the month, but now I’d need to be out by then. Is that okay if it’s a month sooner than I expected?”

“Sooner’s better for me anyway,” she replied.

“Good then. If you have a sublease, can you email it to me so I can review it?”

And he’s responsible to boot? Vi thought to herself, relieved. This was a huge step up from her last disaster of a roomie.

“I’ll send it over when I get home,” she said, and her eyes narrowed. Changkyun had out-paced her now by half a block, hands in his pockets, iris tattoo flexing restlessly. “Hey, Hyunwoo, I’m out right now, so I’ll message you later once I’ve sent the lease, okay?”

“Sounds good. Have a nice day,” said the older man. He had a way of saying things as though he were twenty years older than she was instead of just five.

They said their goodbyes, and Vi jogged lightly to catch up with her best friend, who had already pulled up at the entrance to the noodle shop.

“Okay,” Changkyun said when she got there.

Her brows pinched. “Okay what?”

“Okay, let’s go to this thing on Wednesday.”

Vi dropped her bags to hug her best friend. “Really? Hell yes! Thanks, Kyun.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he mumbled as she crushed him in her embrace. “We're going to have to work through a lot between now and then to get you ready for the real thing, and I’m warning you upfront that you will not be ready by Wednesday, but we'll go and at least practice.”

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good,” she said as she let him go.

“But we're only doing it if you commit to it this week. We've got a lot to cover, so we'll have to meet up most nights.”

“I can do that, but can you? What about your practices?”

“We can work around them.”

“Yay!” Vi squeaked and then quickly tempered when she remembered the whole purpose of today. “I mean, yeah, sure, sounds good.”

Her friend popped one cool eyebrow.

“We can use my place while it’s still just mine,” she suggested as breezed by him into the restaurant. “Oh, yeah, that reminds me. Hyunwoo said he'd take the room. Sounds like he’ll actually start moving stuff in toward the end of the month.”

“That’s faster than you thought,” said Changkyun. “Didn’t you say he wouldn’t even know if he could move before the end of the month, and now, he’s already moving in?”

“Yeah, but at least that means I won’t have to pay the full rent again next month. My bank account will be happy.”

He hummed and returned his attention to the menu.

After they’d ordered, Vi asked, “So what do you want to cover this week?”

“Priority is safety. It always is,” Changkyun replied immediately.

“Of course,” she said though her annoyance was clear in her voice.

Her friend watched her carefully. “I know that's not the fun stuff, but we have to do it, Viola.”

“You sound like my dad,” she pouted. “But there's lots of other fun stuff on my list.”

“I know, and I'm sure you have it all organized in order of importance.”

Vi squinted at him. “Sass is my thing, not yours.”

“Is it sass if it’s factual? I’ll bet you have it typed up in your phone notepad, too.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. How’s that for mystery?” she said coyly. Changkyun raised a brow, and she sighed as she pulled out her phone again. It only took her a second to pull up her “hot girl” list, and she read, “We’ve covered the clothes and accessories. I won’t need you for the other day-of prep, so I guess what’s left is logistics and technique.”

“Technique?” he asked through a slurp of noodles.

“You know, the sexy eyes and dancing and dirty talk stuff.”

Changkyun choked and thumped his chest with his fist before he gulped down some water. After he recovered from his cough, he said, “You expect me to teach you how to dirty talk?”

“I didn’t say that. You asked what’s left. I’m telling you. I’m not going to make this weird for you. I’ll just learn some lines from porn.”

Thankfully, this time, his chopsticks were halfway to his mouth, and he was spared a second round of choking.

“Please don’t,” he said. “I don’t want you picking up insane or bad habits.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? You know this is not my wheelhouse, and I want to learn. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

Changkyun smiled at her in his gentle way, his soft parentheses dimples bracketing it. “I understand, but what’s wrong with just trying a few new things at a time? If it’s a little awkward, so what? It happens. Sex isn’t perfect, Viola. Embarrassing stuff happens. Bad dirty talk isn’t a big deal compared to some of the stuff I’ve seen.”

At this prompt, Vi propped both elbows up on the table and set her chin on her fists. With big eyes, she asked, “Really? Like what?”

He frowned lightly and looked down at their food. “I don’t know if this is—”

“Come on, man, you can’t start a thought like that and not finish it. Make me feel better.”

“Fine,” he relented but lowered his voice. “One girl sneezed right into my mouth when she was riding me.”

Vi reeled back, barely missing knocking over her bowl as she cringed. “Oh my god!”

“And another was deepthroating me, gagged herself, and threw up on me.”

“That’s possible?” she squealed.

“Shit happens,” he said with a shrug.

“New fear unlocked, holy shit.”

Changkyun shook his head. “It was messy, yeah, and kind of gross, sure, but I still got them off before they went home.”

“Are you serious?” she gaped. “How are you so calm about that? I’d die. I’d probably never attempt sex again.”

“Like I said, shit happens. They were working hard for me. I had to make them feel better.”

“I swear to god, Kyun, there’s no other man like you.”

“You’d be surprised what a guy can forgive for the sake of sex.”

Vi deflated. “If there’s anything to make me want to stick to your code to the letter, it’s this. I could never see a guy again if I threw up on him. Catch me under a river rock, bye.”

Changkyun resumed his soup slurping as though he hadn’t just traumatized his best friend for life, leaving her to gnaw on the edge of her lip.

“Food’s getting cold,” he nudged as he took another drink.

“I’ll never eat again,” she swore.

“Hot girls eat well, come on.”

“I can’t stand you and your cool guy schtick. Okay, fine,” she said twirling some noodles into a bite. “So this week, I guess I’ll let you be safety officer first, and then maybe you can point out some hot girl dances moves at the DJ thing? You can be my living mirror.”

“Living mirror?” he echoed.

“Yeah, you know. You can reflect my successes and failures. Point out stuff other girls are doing and then give me tips when I try.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Vi nodded as she gulped down a bite.

“And what about the dirty talk lessons?” he asked.

At this, she pursed her lips. “I’m really not trying to overstep your good will, man. There’s, like, Cosmo articles and shit, I’m sure.”

Changkyun laid his chopsticks across his bowl and narrowed his eyes at her. “No, Viola, I know you. If I don't help you, you'll help yourself, and I don't need you shouting ‘Choke me, daddy’ to a stranger.”

It was Vi’s turn to choke. She banged her fist against her collar bone and downed her entire glass of water.

“Shut up,” she hissed, eyes scouring the restaurant. It wasn’t too busy, but that only made it feel that much louder. “I’m not trying to ruin everyone’s meals.”

“Then I suggest you accept my help.”

Vi glowered at him. “All this time, I didn’t realize you were a blackmailer at heart.”

“Comes in handy in the bedroom, too,” he added.

“I have so much to learn, sempai.”

Changkyun smiled that secretive smile once more. His voice dropped in octave as he promised, “Good because there’s so much I want to teach you.”

[writeforfandoms]

You’re the fire

Find my masterlist and series masterlist

Armed with more information about Poppy and the Golden Circle, plans are made.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to violence and Poppy’s compound, allusions to dragons in captivity and the effects on the dragon. 

Word count: 2.4k

This time, Jack didn’t try to keep you out of the loop. He didn’t quite let you help, but he did at least let you know what was going on. 

“Harry knows,” he told you, focused on making breakfast for the two of you. “He and Merlin will fly out in the next few days. I told Javier as well, he’s got some contacts and will coordinate with them.” 

“And where are you all meeting?” You tapped your fingers restlessly against the counter. 

“Here.” He did look at you finally, shifting his weight. “Darlin’, I know you want to help…”

“I wouldn’t be that much help.” You wilted, just a little, but managed a wan smile all the same. “I know.” 

Jack sighed and tapped his bare foot, debating something. “If you can get the time, come over.”

“What?” You blinked.

“I mean it. You already know everything else, I won’t keep this from you.” His lips twisted and he turned back to breakfast. “Learned that lesson already.” 

You beamed at him. “Okay,” you agreed, wiggling a little. “I promise I won’t cause trouble or anything.”

Jack huffed at that, shaking his head as he brought two plates over to the counter. “Sweetheart,” he rumbled, ducking his head to look you in the eye, “you are trouble. But the best kind.” He kissed you, quick and sweet, before he backed off and took his seat. 

“You’ll let me know when the meeting is, when everyone arrives?” You couldn’t help but double check as you washed the dishes.

“I will. I suspect Wednesday, but it depends on when Harry and Merlin can get here. They’ve got a few things to take care of on their end.” 

“Are they, like, caretakers for the Royal line?” You frowned a little. It had been low-key puzzling you for a while, how Harry and Merlin actually fit into all of this. 

Jack ducked his head but not before you saw his grin. “Not exactly,” he muttered, clearly amused. 

“So? Are you gonna tell me?” You nudged him with your elbow. 

Jack chuckled, shaking his head a little. “They’re more like… secret service. Of a sort.” 

Your eyes went wide. “Seriously?”

“Mmhm. Met Harry on assignment, back with the military.” He shrugged, though he looked pleased. “Since he works with the Royals and with some other dragons, we got to talking. He hasn’t gotten rid of me since.”

You laughed quietly, leaning over a little into his chest. “Well, certainly works out well for us now.”

Jack hummed quiet acknowledgement, his hands landing on your hips to hold you there for a few long moments. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“So am I.” You tipped your head back against his shoulder, briefly closing your eyes to enjoy the moment of peace while you could. 

After all, it wouldn’t last long. 

After you’d gone back home, Jack confirmed the day and time of the meeting, and you managed to get a couple days off work. Knowing Jack would be busy, you drove yourself out to the ranch and waved at him where he stood with Javier and an unfamiliar man before you headed back to see Eggsy. 

The dragon was no longer truly a baby, as he was growing pretty quickly. He didn’t have to stretch to boop your nose anymore, and he shed scales practically every other day. Which made him itchy and occasionally irritable, although he rarely got snappy with you. (Jack, on the other hand, had had to scold the dragon more than once for bad behavior.) The gold on his wings shone in the sunlight, and he was mottled blue and green and brown as his adult colors came through. 

In short, he looked like a teenager. You felt a little bit bad for him. 

“Hi darling,” you murmured, scratching his eye ridges. Eggsy cooed and snuggled in closer to you, enjoying the attention. 

“So this is the wee lizard.”

You and Eggsy both jumped at the voice behind you, and you turned to see a bald man standing there, arms crossed over his chest, dark sweater pulled tight across his shoulders. He looked very unimpressed.

“And you are?” You shifted, putting yourself between the man and Eggsy. Rationally, you knew that the fact that he was here, on the ranch, unsupervised, meant that Jack trusted him. But you had no idea who this guy was, and you were a little bit protective of Eggsy. 

His lips quirked but he didn’t comment. “Merlin.”

“Oh.” You relaxed a little, shoulders dropping. “I’m–”

“I know who you are.” He took two steps closer, giving you a more thorough look-over. “You’re the one who’s gotten us this far.”

“Um.” You blinked at him, startled. “I don’t know about that.”

“Don’t you?” He didn’t smile, but something in his eyes warmed. “Hm. I’ve been told you named the wee lizard Eggsy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer disdain in his voice. “Yeah, it made more sense at the time,” you agreed, grinning back at your little dragon. “It kind of stuck, though.”

Merlin heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Well, it can be changed,” he grumbled. “Come here, little one.”

Eggsy hunkered down behind you, wings tucked tight, tail lashing back and forth. You stepped out of the way, shaking your head when Eggsy tried to follow you.

“Nuh uh. You have to meet people eventually and learn to play nice. Might as well start with him.”

Eggsy drooped like the dramatic child he truly was but slunk forward all the same. All of three steps. Before he stopped and stretched out his neck to sniff Merlin’s hand instead. 

“I see you met Merlin.” Jack walked over to you, immediately wrapping one arm around your waist to tuck you into his side. 

“Mmhm. Who else is here?” You leaned into his warmth gratefully, watching Eggsy investigate Merlin with more energy now. Here meaning he began to poke the long-suffering Scotsman. 

“Javier, and Marcus Pike from the Bureau of Dragon Management.” Jack hesitated a moment. “Harry is around somewhere.” 

“He’s talking to Champ.” Merlin didn’t even look at you two, still focused on Eggsy. 

“We’ll have to go fetch him before we start planning.” Jack smirked suddenly. “You wanna do the honors, Merlin?”

Merlin gave Jack a flat look. “No.” Turning, he strode back up to the house, Eggsy following him most of the way before bounding back to you. 

“Guess we’re gonna go get him.” You grinned, reaching out to rub Eggsy’s snout. “Shall we?” 

Jack heaved a sigh but relinquished his grip on you. “S’pose so. Should get this show on the road.” 

“Hey.” You turned and grabbed his hand, frowning just a little. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” But he didn’t meet your gaze, looking out across the field. “C’mon, let’s go get Harry.”

“Jack.” You tightened your grip on his hand, stepping in his way. “Talk to me. Please.”

Jack dropped his head and sighed. “Darlin’... It’s just me bein’ silly. Nothing to fuss over.” 

“It’s bothering you,” you pointed out reasonably. “Let me help.”

He sighed again. “Just… Worried.”

“About the rescue?”

“About leaving you.” He smiled, a little bitter, a little wry, a little self-deprecating. “I know you’ll be safer here. Nothin’ should happen.” He paused for a moment, turning his hand to twine his fingers between yours. “Should. And that bothers me.”

“I’ll be fine.” You chewed on your lower lip for a few moments. “Would it make you feel better if I stay here? On the ranch? So you know I’ll be safe with the dragons.”

Eyes a little wide, Jack leaned in close until his forehead bumped yours ever so gently. “Would you?”

“For you? Yes.” You smiled, lifting your free hand to cup his cheek. “No problem.” 

“You’re amazing.” Jack kissed you, soft and sweet, before pulling away. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“Took you long enough,” Harry drawled from somewhere off to the side. By his sudden stillness, you could tell Jack hadn’t noticed him there either. “Come along.”

You and Jack looked at Harry’s retreating back before looking at each other. You broke first, clapping one hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles. Jack heaved a long-suffering sigh that was about 200% more dramatic than he actually felt, making you laugh harder. Grinning at his clear victory, Jack towed you inside with him. 

Introductions were quick - Marcus was a polite man who smiled and shook your hand and didn’t question why you were there. Javier gave Jack some kind of look but didn’t actually ask. Fortunately. 

“How sure are you of this intel?” Merlin asked once the pleasantries were out of the way.

“Very.” Jack looked a little smug. “Got some old friends looking into the location, but preliminary findings show there’s definitely something big out there. It’s disguised, at least partially. I’ll know more tomorrow.”

“And how are we getting there?” Javier put his hands on his hips.

“We have a jet,” Harry offered mildly. “That will be sufficient to get at least us there, although if you have other agents that need to be there, they will have to find their own way.” 

Javier grimaced and glanced at Marcus, who simply nodded. “Let us worry about that,” Javier grumbled. 

“You two have transportation for the Royal? If she’s still there, she might not be in good shape,” Jack pointed out. 

“Aye,” Merlin murmured. “We’ll have a few of ours on standby, in case they’re needed.”

“What kind of firepower are we expecting?” Marcus asked. 

As they started into the nitty gritty of the planning, you took a half-step back, just watching them all. Though the discussion was calm, all of them were very clearly determined, and you could see rage in more than one pair of eyes. They all wanted to see the Golden Circle go down. 

And even if you couldn’t help, not really, you were glad to be here. Because even just this made you feel better. 

“What about her?” Merlin didn’t even look at you, although his question did make you blink and refocus on the conversation. 

“She’s staying here.” Jack reached a hand back to take yours, squeezing gently. “She’s done her part.” 

Nobody questioned him, thankfully. And the planning moved on.

“When are we doing this?” Javier asked, glancing around the circle. 

“Sooner the better,” Jack said, rubbing his thumb over your hand. “We’ve got the advantage, before she realizes she’s been found out.” 

“How much time do you need to prepare?” Harry glanced between Javier and Marcus. 

“As soon as I can show my boss proof that this isn’t a wild goose chase.” Javier shrugged. “Won’t be hard to convince him after that.” 

“Same with my boss.” Marcus smiled a little. “They’ll be anxious to get involved with this.” 

Harry snorted quietly. “As far as we’re concerned, you two can decide who gets the credit for Poppy,” he drawled. “Although I do believe we’ll have better luck with a smaller force to get in.” 

Javier and Marcus exchanged looks again before Javier sighed. “Big interagency hit like this? Good luck.”

“Unless you misrepresent the start time,” Jack offered casually. “Be on your way before they can give you marching orders, claim technical difficulties in receiving orders, so on.” He smirked. 

“I always forget how devious you are,” Marcus said on a sigh, though he looked amused. “That might have worked for you, but it won’t work for me. My SO won’t have it.” 

Javier just grinned. “I’ll manage,” was all he said on the matter. 

“So, when are we leaving?” Jack crossed his arms over his chest, looking at each of them in turn. 

“Tomorrow, early.” Merlin had pulled a tablet from somewhere and was working on it. “It will take time to get to the compound, and we’ll have to hike part of the way on foot. Leaving tomorrow should give you all time to do what you need to do.” 

Nobody objected, and nobody brought up anything else. Nodding to himself, Jack looked at you before he spoke again. 

“Don’t have room here for all of you to stay, but I can take care of dinner.” 

To your surprise, each man looked at you before agreeing, leaving you a little flustered and definitely confused. Fortunately, they all saw fit to take themselves outside to do whatever they all needed to do, leaving you and Jack to work on dinner prep. 

“Jack?” You glanced at him before refocusing on the potatoes. “What was that about?”

“Hmm?” Jack paused to look at you. 

“They all… I dunno. Like they were looking for permission, or something.” 

“Ah.” Jack ducked his head to hide his grin, very unsuccessfully. “Well, they’ve all known me for a while. Years, most of ‘em. So they may have made some assumptions ‘bout us.” 

“Such as?” You raised one eyebrow, equal parts wary and curious about how cagey he was being. 

“Pretty sure they all think you live here, darlin’.” 

Well. That was nowhere near as bad as it could’ve been. “Would be a bit of a drive to work,” was the first thing out of your mouth.

Jack froze. You froze. Jack opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“Nope,” he said after a moment. “I wanna have that talk. I really wanna have that talk. But not tonight. Not right before…” He trailed off and grimaced. “One more thing to hold again Poppy, I guess.” 

“Hey.” You set the knife down and walked over to him, wrapping your arms tight around his middle. “It’ll turn out fine. You’ll come back, and everything will be fine, and we’ll have that talk when you get back. I promise.” 

“You’re too sweet.” Jack kissed the top of your head and just… stood there for a few moments, breathing and holding steady. Then he sighed softly. “Alright. Let’s finish this up, feed that lot, and go to bed. I wanna hold you tonight.” 

“Sure.” You kissed him once, a bare brush of lips, and turned back to your work. 

Things would be okay. This wouldn’t be the end of the discussion. You all just had to get through the next few days and it would all be fine. 

[shocked-collar]

Ren's the type of man to groom you over online games. The way he can take control of a lobby, the way you attract him with how well you listen and behave- it's just fun for you. Someone who knows what they're doing and who knows how to win the game taking charge because he knows he can. Feeling seen and admired because he recognized your strengths and weaknesses and put you in a specific, coordinated area because of it... But it's so much more to him.

You get praised for you performance. And when you fuck it up, he's very energetic. Basic gamer rage for a moment, before calming down and "Aaagh, that's alright. Next time!". An instant buddy. A stranger you feel the need to defend to other players, because "At least he's actually trying!" and oh god, the things it does to him.

You two become in-game friends. Every time you come online, you're sent a lobby invitation. You two get close. You meet his other friends, he meets yours. Soon enough, you've built an entire team of people on your side. You guys feel great! You feel like one of those famous, competitive teams! And Ren is never shy to tell you how good of a job you do.

Soon enough it's not just the game. It's your social media. You've added each other, and can now peer into each others lives. He loves talking to you. Tells you all the time how pretty you are in all your pictures. Comments on all your posts, likes everything, tags you in things.. Notices how close you two live to each other. He becomes pushy. He wants to talk all the time. His patience is thinning with you. He's almost possessive over you.

"So you played with [---] all day? And didn't invite me?" "Where were you? I missed you..." "Do you even like me anymore? I know we spoke 8 hrs ago, but you sounded cold.." "Fine. Yeah. Go play with [---]. No, I'm not mad, it's okay, just go do whatever you want." "You know I've got problems with being lonely.. You know I can't help it.."

One day, "an opportunity to meet" arises. He's going on a small trip and passing through your area, so you two get to hang out in real life! It's exciting, meeting such a good online friend you've had a while. The meeting is so nice. Ren is a lot smaller than you thought he would be, but his hugs are so strong! Once again, he is complimenting your features, and now, your figure. You two hangout at home for a while. You have fun showing him around, introducing him to any pets you may have, any things you hold dear- and he is very respectful. But he wants to see more.

You offer to take him to see some signature, fun areas in town. He's very excited! It's about an hour into the walk that his colors begin to show. He's got you all alone.

He pins you to the wall and takes you as he likes. Rapes you til your knees can no longer hold your weight. Makes you a mess like you've never been before. A friend you trusted, a friend you've had a while. He hurts you in such an evil way, and leaves you with a kiss. Even when you limp yourself home, you can still feel his hands on your body. You can still feel him inside. Can still feel the choke in the back of your throat, and the bruising he undoubtedly left in your tummy.

You are recovering mentally. Quiet, frozen days roll by, just waiting to be okay again. It's not like he didn't know. In fact, it's what got him off. You've never seen such evil out of a seemingly normal person, not personally. Sometimes you have nightmares about it, and wake up aroused. And now, you can't even go to your best online friend for help, because he did it. You feel like you're drowning. You're so lonely. It's too much to process.

You turn your brain off for a while. For the first time in a week or two, you pick up your controller, and turn on your game. Just a casual play is all you want. You come online.

'You've been invited to a lobby!'

[frangipani-wanderlust]

How To Call 911

So most of my followers know now that I started working last May as a 911 dispatcher. Super proud of myself. And now that I am starting (very much still starting) to settle in a bit, I want to offer some tips on how to call 911. So, hold on to your hats.

(original version with colored text here)

When in doubt, call 911. Don't take this as me encouraging you to jump at shadows. Your neighbors' loud party is not an emergency, google the local non-emergency line and call that. Neither is the dry cleaning not giving you your clothes (I actually got this call on our 911 line). Nor is the fact that you saw a fox inside city limits (also something a real human called 911 about). But if you see a situation unfolding and you think "this seems dangerous, maybe this is 911-worthy" then it's 911-worthy. Don't hesitate. Call.

If you call 911 and you are freaking out, that's okay. If you're in a crisis, you may not remember a single tip I'm about to give you. We are trained for that, we can handle it, just do the best you can. It's not the end of the world to have a hysterical or frightened caller, and these are tips, not rules.

Location, location, location. We can't send you help if we have nowhere to send it to. Ideally, know the address. Failing that, know the name of a business or a church or an intersection. It is not cheating if you read this off a sign. There isn't a set of invisible rules that says you have to have your exact GPS coordinates memorized. Be prepared to describe the location somehow. That way, if our connection drops and that's all you can tell me, I can still send some police out to come find out what's going on and they can ask for medics or firefighters or whatever if needed. But we absolutely must know where to send assistance, it is the first thing we're going to ask.

Location again, but with a twist. The first thing our office says for emergencies is, "911, what is the address of the emergency?" If a building is on fire, tell us where the fire is. If your neighbors are being robbed at gunpoint across the street, give us their address. If you witnessed a car accident, tell us where the accident happened. The location of the emergency isn't necessarily the location where you are. Don't send police and fire to your office building if the wreck is on the freeway.

Answer the questions that you are asked. If the calltaker asks "Is the patient breathing?" don't start in about the seizure they just had (if they aren't breathing, the seizure they just had is not the biggest problem). If the calltaker asks, "Which way did the man you saw go when they ran?" don't tell them about how they broke down your door (if they are running away, knowing they broke your door down does not help the police know which direction to start looking). The particular question you are asked is being asked for a reason, and that reason is not frivolous but in an emergency, we aren't going to stop and explain everything.

Do not launch into a speech. If you're asked a yes/no question, yes or no is all the answer you should give. Your impulse will be to explain the yes or the no because more information is better than not enough, but overexplaining is its own problem. Now, we are hired for good typist skills, and are encouraged to get better and faster, but infodumping means things can get missed. The calltaker is going to have some information they're going to ask for by protocol and probably the option to drill down on some of it if clarification is needed. If you spend five paragraphs explaining your last answer, it delays getting other pertinent information.

Do not launch into a speech, part the second. You don't call 911 for things that happened last week, or even yesterday. Tell me the emergency that is happening right now. Ideally in one sentence. If someone is having a medical issue, and you call 911 about it, when the calltaker asks exactly what happened, do not tell them about how the patient had a surgery 5-and-a-half weeks ago. You called 911. What is the emergency that is happening right now. Don't be telling me about their surgery when the problem you called about is a broken leg. Yes, the surgery may have led to generalized loss of balance that has yet to return which caused the patient to fall which caused them to break their leg. Understood. But you didn't call because of all of that. You called because of the broken leg. Apply this principle to all emergencies.

Don't launch into a speech, part the third. When asked a specific and direct question, do not give an explanation instead of an answer. If the calltaker asks you "Is the weird person on the side of the road actually in the lanes of traffic?" do not explain to them how it's a very narrow roadway (see parenthesis for the story here). Aside from the fact that we're not asking these questions to be funny (see part the second), there's also the fact that now you are coming over as suspicious as hell. If I asked "how did that person on Facebook know what this supposedly missing kid is wearing and where he's going to be at 3:00 today?" and you say "well Facebook is a good way to spread information" I am now extremely suspicious of you.

(Also an actual call I have taken. The man was a totally ordinary guy out for a walk to the store, but this blue collar man walked through a Rich Person Neighborhood™ and according to Lady Catherine De Bourgh on the phone with me, that merited a call to the police. When I asked her if he was actually in the lanes of traffic [traffic hazard call type] versus not [suspicious person call type, on a technicality but technically...], she tried explaining three times that the road was narrow before she finally got the message that I was not going to stop asking until she told me the actual answer and answered "Well, I suppose so, yes." At this point, because she'd been so reluctant to answer me, I no longer believed the man actually was in the lanes of traffic and to this day believe that she lied to try and manipulate the police into a stronger-level response than was actually warranted. Because determining whether she was lying for sure is beyond the scope of my job, I put down what she said, but I didn't believe then and still don't believe now, that she told the truth. The totally ordinary and probably very nice guy was not arrested or hassled at all and was instead given a courtesy ride to the store.)

Be prepared to describe relevant people, maybe including yourself, and that includes race. If you have an asthma attack at a football game, the medics need to know how to find you in a crowd. If you are a black woman, that's gonna rule out everyone who isn't that. If you are a black woman wearing a yellow shirt, blue jeans, and a blue bandana over your hair, that excludes nearly everybody and when the medics arrive, they'll know exactly who to look for. Most of the time, someone's race isn't relevant information. When describing someone to emergency services, it absolutely is and it is not racist to accurately describe the relevant person or people.

There are more tips in the world, and I may come back to this post and add them as they occur to me. In the meantime, please enjoy this short treatise on how to call 911.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Sweet Dreams--Part 3

Calum and you have dance around reality for a few months now. But after Calum leaves and returns from a trip, the reality has to be confronted. 

Weeks are passing and maybe more is blooming between you and Calum than might meet the eye.

Prince!Calum x Reader Insert.

The next parts are going to be a bit smaller than part 2. Ideas got carried away, but there will be more to come!

CW: There's smut across this series (18+ content), as well as mentions of parental abuse, neglect, and alcoholism.

Series Masterlist

My Complete Masterlist

Your hand trembles.  The occasional clink and clack of the cup on the saucer echo the shakes. But you’re going to do this. You have a copy of the schedule in hand and the cup of tea. Joy has a cup of tea, according to the morning staff, every day around 11:30. Though you’d be long gone for the day, crawling into your bed, you stayed. You need to do this in person. If keeping the rumor mill in the dark was key for you, you couldn’t pull her aside after breakfast. And you’d rather die than ask Calum for his mother’s number. He’d no doubt want to get involved. It’s from a sweet place, but you’re not sure you want him to have hope that high.  There’s still enough of a change that you could fuck it all up. But you don’t want to. So you’re here, schedule and tea in hand. 

Your knock on the library’s door echoes for a moment. Your heart beats so fast you can feel the veins thrumming in your neck under your skin. You’d gone to Janet to ask for at least one of the next two Wednesday’s off, with a caveat that if it didn’t work you wouldn’t be phased. You’d take your normal shifts and make peace with begging either to switch shifts or staying up way too late. Thankfully, Janet managed to get you a Wednesday off. Though you’re sure, it’s still going to be rough depending on the time that Joy wants lunch. You wonder what kind of conversation you and Joy might have--if she’s going to be all business or warm. Perhaps, it’s all a farce and the true colors will bleed when you two officially meet. 

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, you think to yourself.  

It almost makes you laugh how much you oscillate between fear that what you have with Calum is going to fall apart and a vague calm that if it all falls apart it was just meant to be. You want to be excited. However, you’re still hedging. You’re still waiting for someone or something to take it all away. It’s an awful existence to have. Yet you’ve lived it for as long as you have. That's all you know of living--hope and the inevitable crash and burn of it. But you wish not to know it. You wish to have a hope that never falters. 

The lag between your knock and an answer stretches on so long you almost think the morning staff might’ve been wrong about Joy’s potential location. It’ll eventually lead you to wandering these halls or calling Calum and you hate the idea of those options. Before you aimlessly take yourself through the halls, you decide to give it another knock. Your fist gently comes up to the door when the knob turns and the wood peels open.  “Yes, yes, I know.” 

You catch the voice though you know it’s not directed for you. 

“Calum?” you question.

“Hey,” he laughs. “Is-is everything okay? I thought you’d be home by now.” 

You did tell him that you were going home. And it wasn’t a lie. You will be home. After you coordinate lunch with his mom of course. “I-” you start. You don’t want to lie. But you know you hadn’t warned him about this either. 

“Hi!” Joy greets you at the door just behind Calum. 

“Hi, Joy,” you return, sheepish, but lift the cup of tea. “Your tea and I-I wanted to see about lunch, like you asked. I have my schedule.”

“Oh perfect,” she grins, waving you in. 

Calum steps aside too, the door cracking open more. “Lunch?” he questions. 

You smile as you hand the cup over to Joy. Her thanks is a smile too before she carries on over to a table towards the middle of the room. It appears to be a study area in the midst of the shelves. Two long tables with chairs. Two single arm chairs sit opposite ends of the tables, bookending the arrangement. You turn to face Calum. “She asked me about lunch a little bit ago. I hadn’t gotten the new schedule yet.”

“Mum asked you to lunch?” His brows pull together, but as the question leaves him a smile across his lips. 

You nod again. “Yes. And I’m terrified,” you add the last part in a whisper. 

“You’ll be okay. But if you need any tips, I’m something of an expert,” Calum laughs with a wink. His hand is gentle on your lower back as he looks away from you to his mother situated at one of the longer study tables. “Mum, I’m going to step out for a moment. Just holler if you need me.”

“I-I didn’t mean to intrude. I can come back later,” you interject. “If it’s something important, of course.”

Joy waves off your objection. “It’s all yammering really. C’mon, let’s see this schedule of yours. I’ll give a shout if I need anything Calum.”

Calum’s lips brush over your temple. “You’ll let me know when you get home safely, right? I’ve got meetings immediately after lunch and Mrs. Clifford will have my ass if I don’t come by later or else I’d attempt to keep you here the whole day.”

“Mrs. Clifford? Don’t tell me I have competition,” you laugh. 

“Oh, as much as this would get me killed--I like your cooking better. But if you ever say that, I’ll deny it to my dying breath in front of her. But, to answer your question, she’s a friend’s mom. I promised I’d stop by for a game of bridge this afternoon. I’ve missed two weeks as it is.”

Calum’s easy laughter eases your shoulders, melting the tension away. You laugh alongside him, but nod. “Understood. Tell me, does she keep you informed of the price of milk?” You remember his mention of running errands occasionally for someone and wonder if there’s a connection. 

“She does. When Michael--my friend--is out of town for long stretches, I’ll do what I can to help. But,” Calum interrupts. “You have lunch to plan with my mother and I am being incredibly rude attempting to hog you all to myself, so.”

You nod. “I hope the cards are with you. But not too well that you break Mrs. Clifford’s spirits.”

“Oh, she wins every time!”

“And she ought to keep winning if you’re harboring such dangerous secrets about her cooking.”

“Touché. Please do let me know though, when you get home.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He squeezes at your waist and then heads back towards the library door. Your feet feel like lead as you pick them up to carry you towards the table. But you take the steps one after the other. 

Joy’s smile is warm as she finds a navy blue planner. “So, what we looking at? We could plan for something in the evening so you can get some rest if you work beforehand of course.”

The seat when you settle down into it is still warm. You assume you’ve fallen into the seat Calum sat in. “I don’t want to take over your schedule,” you start with, placing the two pages onto the desk. 

“Oh, I’d let you do it in a heartbeat,” she laughs. 

You nod, hands clamming up on you. You can tell that the pages will stick if you lift your hands. “I’ve got next Thursday off and then two Wednesdays from now I’m free.”

“So the 15th and 28th?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes scan over the boxes and you watch the tip of her pen glide over the pages. She clicks it open. “The 15th is good for me. Do you work the day before?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her mouth twists up for a second. But she shrugs and looks up to you. “Well, it’ll be less like lunch for me. But would you be okay with 5PM? Calum tells me you don’t normally start your day until about 4PM these days.”

“5PM would be okay. But I can--”

“5PM it is.” Joy’s confirmation cuts off your protest. 

“Really, Joy, I can--”

“You can join me at 5PM?” she teases with a wink. “Is that what you were going to say?”

Oh you have to let it go. You know you do, so you nod. “Yeah, I can join you at 5PM on the 15th. Should I come here first? Or meet you there?”

“Stop by here first. I’ll take us from there. Allergic to anything?”

“No, though my gut disagrees heavily with mushrooms.”

Joy’s laughter is soft and she slips into a recline in her chair “Duly noted. I’ll make sure there’s no mushrooms around. And you’re going straight home, yeah? After this.”

“Yes, straight home,” you return.

“Good, good. I’ve heard you’ve been pulling some longer shifts.”

You swallow back the reasons: helping ensure staff get something to eat, covering for people who are running late. This isn’t the time or place, but it reminds you just how much distance is between the two of you. Joy’s the Queen. You are a chef, subservient in nature. Many rungs between the two of you and yet you are just sitting across the table from each other. “I try to help out a little when I can.”

“Don’t forget about yourself in the process and I’m sure you’ve got someone else in your ear about that too so I don’t mean to nag.”

“Trust, Calum says the same.”

Joy nods again, her smile still bright. “He comes by it honest at least.”

“I’m starting to see that.” It’s light when you say it, laughter tumbling after your words and Joy’s head falls back on her neck. 

“Yes, yes, it was indeed my doing,” she concedes. “But, I don’t want to take more time than necessary since someone needs to be getting home and getting rest. I’ll see you at 5.”

You nod. “Yes, at 5. Here.” As you collect your things--though the schedule is already together--you watch Joy shut her planner and flip open a black folder. Just the top of the page registers but you hazard a guess by the way the bill is numbered it’s something still pending. That’s her world, Calum’s too. Your world was encompassed by just two pages. The discrepancies are blaring but yet the more you interact with Joy, the more it feels like those matter. Maybe Joy’s worry, and by extension Calum’s father’s apprehension were just normal parental worry. 

Lunch--or should you be calling it dinner given the time?--would surely be the telling factor. 

“Don’t work too hard,” you offer softly, pushing the chair in. 

Joy smiles, eyes lifting up and over the frame of her glasses. “Oh, this is hardly the hard work. But thank you. I promise to try.”

The doors shut and you catch the slight creak the hinges give. The sound causes you to look left to right--no one in the hallways seems bothered by the sound. You let the sound of the squeak echo and echo behind you as you climb back down the stairs and out the service exit to your car. 

When you arrive home, though you swear you’re not sure how you got home so quickly, you do let Calum know of your safe arrival. Before you can peel your shoes off, your phone shakes, Glad you got home safe. Also, Mrs. Clifford is kicking my ass. So, thanks for that.

You laugh in return before working your fingers back over the keys. You’re welcome. 

____________________________

The next morning, post Calum licking his wounds over his bad losses in bridge, he climbs himself out of bed. The sky is still dark, but he gets up early so that he can be out of the way sooner. It helps too that you’re mostly still here, or there in the kitchen too. He’ll be able to watch you work, keep you company as he imagines the early hours of the morning might be a little lonely. It doesn’t hurt that Calum can gaze unabashedly and it feels like a small bit of peace, given that his father and him are still at odds. Getting up early means he can hopefully doge his father again. It’d work a few days before, why wouldn’t magic strike twice for Calum? 

The hallways are cool as he walks his way down to the kitchen, holding an echo of the night’s weather break. As Calum cracks open the door to the kitchen, he catches the hiss of the coffee machine. There, paused over a sheet of biscuits, is you moving to the cupboards. The kitchen is quiet otherwise--void of anyone but the two of you. “Morning,” Calum offers quietly as if not to shatter the stillness. 

“Good morning,” you smile over to Calum as you pass over the cup of coffee. The substance is a rich brown and tells Calum there’s just a hint of milk in it like he likes. 

The cup stays on the counter as Calum slides in behind you. He pauses for a moment, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He doesn’t miss the way you duck your head and he grins. He knows you’re not shy--far from it in reality-- but it still feels like a spark to a match watching the way you react to the small things. He assumes no one else has done this for you. Perhaps you haven’t let anyone in close enough to dare think it. Not that you’ve let Calum in to do anything. But you do meet him with less and less resistance each time. 

“Have you had a cup yet?” Calum asks, hands now resting on your lower back and hip as you turn back to your work. 

You shake your head. “Not yet. I just got the pot on before you came down and I heard some shuffling.”

“How’d you know it was me then?”

“I didn’t. Just hoped.”

Calum presses in at your hips. You hoping for him--the thought is liable to send him to an early grave, but God, does he love the idea of it. So much so, he doesn’t bother questioning what your plan was should that not have been him opening the door. He presses another kiss to your cheek. “How do you like yours?”

A snort escapes you. “Coffee or something else?” you ask, pushing your hips back just a hair. It’s not lost between either of you what else has brewed--even in half mast. 

“Goodness,” Calum laughs. “Coffee. I meant coffee. Though if you’re offering some extra sugar,” he teases, lips closing in around the side of your neck in a kiss. 

“No, no,” you return, leaning back into the embrace. “I’m distinctly not offering anything else. Splash of milk, two creamers and sugar until the ancestors tell you to stop.”

The order makes Calum recoil. His teeth ache just imagining the taste. “That’s sugar with some coffee at that point.”

“The irony,” you return, “is that as sweet as I like my coffee, I am in fact not that sweet.”

The scoff leaves Calum without thought. “You’re plenty sweet,” he whispers against your cheek, “when you want to be of course.”

“And only when I want to be,” you return as he peels away from you. 

It’s easy work--gathering the cup, milk, creamer, and sugar. He watches you though, trying to gauge if something isn’t right about his assemblage. But you’re zeroed in on the biscuits. You don’t even watch Calum. He takes a couple spoonfuls of sugar and drops them in, pausing as he watches the white crystals fall. It doesn’t feel like quite enough so he goes for two more and that’s when his gut tells him it’s enough. The mug and spoon click against each other as Calum tries to ensure the sugar is dissolved. 

“Tell me how it tastes,” Calum urges, sliding the mug to you. 

Your sip is big, a show of smacking your lips together to aerate the combination. It makes a pit form in his stomach. It’s not going to be right but the tension snaps in with just one word. “Perfect,” you laugh. “Thanks, Calum.”

“Is-is it really?”

“Did you put a splash of milk, two creamers, and sugar until the ancestors told you to stop?” you ask. 

Calum can only nod. It’s not that those instructions were down to the ounces. There’s still a margin for error. He doesn’t dare voice that concern though. It’s not something that he thinks needs to be voiced anyway. 

 “Then it’s perfect,” you conclude. The sentence is punctuated by another sip. 

“You’re…” the sentence dies on Calum’s lip the moment it gets breath. You’re so many things, but he’s so glad that you’re you. He laughs instead and grabs his cup too. “I’m glad it’s right.”

Calum’s cup of coffee is still hot to the touch and that tells him he is alive when he settles into the chair. Yet, he feels small and eeking closer to wishing for invisible death when his father slides into the seat next to him. The eggs and bacon don’t feel appealing anymore. You started on them right after getting the first batch into the oven. Calum should’ve known that his father would be inescapable. He’d made it through thus far only thanks to his previous engagements. But today, oh today is proving to be the fated day. Calum wanted at least another day or two to wallow, to think through what he was going to say. Yet, it seems all those wishes are falling to deaf ears. 

“Morning,” Calum offers to his father. 

“You’re up early,” his father comments. The sentiment is accented by another plate clicking against the table. Calum watches the arm--yours--retreating but the biscuits sit stacked on the plate. They smell richly of butter and Calum knows there’s going to be a hint of honey in it too. He’ll be glad to dive in. 

“Lots of work to do,” Calum comments, watching both his cup and the biscuits steam just a little. The light breaks through the kitchen, cresting the horizon behind them and lighting the table in front of them. The sun’s not yet had more than an hour to lighten the horizon. The biscuits are fresher than Calum’s ever seen too. He’s used to them being warm, undoubtedly because you make them in batches, but this is as fresh as one could get without pulling them from the oven themselves. 

“Lots of work indeed.”

His father’s never been short, but they are locked into this dance. Calum’s yet to apologize. His father’s yet to give in either-- clearly displeased but won’t speak. Calum’s annoyed but won’t speak. So they tiptoe, talk about the work that needs to be done. They pass plates and pleasantries. 

“Biscuit?” Calum asks, sliding the plate closer. 

“I always ask Janet for the recipe and she never gives it up,” Calum’s father laughs, taking one off the top. 

“I’ve heard that it’s not Janet’s recipe,” Calum answers slowly before bringing his mug to his lips. His sip of coffee burns his tongue but he doesn’t care as it slides down his throat. 

“She says the same thing! I’ve heard who the recipe belongs to is tightlipped.”

Calum cuts his gaze, looking for you. But you’re too far behind him for him to get a look. He thinks you might not be listening. He sort of wishes you were--let that be a source of stretch. There’s the brief rush of the sink that gives away that your attention is locked in elsewhere. “Apparently,” Calum returns, taking one biscuit off the plate between them. 

“Surely, we can’t live like this forever.”

“Live like what?” Calum questions. His father placed the newspaper on the table, half turned to face Calum. Maybe the tension was crushing more than just Calum’s shoulder, he thinks, taking in the furrow of his father’s brow. 

“I-I know a man’s got to do what he believes in right. It’s what I always taught you, so I guess you could say it’s really all my fault.” 

There’s a pause and Calum watches the half smile falter on his father’s face when no laughter punctuates the joke. Calum sighs and pushes back from the table a little. “It’s just not fair,” Calum starts. 

“What’s not fair? I don’t understand what’s going on. Can you explain it to me? Maybe I just--Maybe I was unfairly harsh, but I’m not seeing it. Not yet, at least. Help me see it.”

The question falls through the air genuine and heavy like the croak in his father’s voice. “You’re rubbing elbows with parts of the cabinet that want to swallow me whole when you step down. That’s the way it seems at least. We’re supposed to be voting on expansions to government subsidiaries that nearly 30% of our population consistently rely on and even more are looking like they’re going to need it during this economic inflation. Out of the cabinet, at least 8 have already taken to various media outlets that they’re not in favor of such expansions, even if those expansions are temporary. Then just last week you’re shaking hands with them, cracking jokes while we’re in sessions. I get it. You don’t want to leave on a sour note, but the cabinet doesn’t leave when you do. Most of the cabinet stays even after you're gone. A few seats are up at the end of the year, but with that majority, I’d be spending another 4 goddamn years trying to pass an expansion that people really needed 6 years ago. So I guess I also don’t get it. What are you trying to do? I hate to think it’s to sabotage me. Surely it can’t that.”

Horror widens his father’s face. “No, no, I’m not--I don’t want to intentionally or unintentionally sabotage you, Calum. God, that’s the worst thing I could do as your dad. But, you see, if I can get in close to those members I might be able to sway them. It’s a finely tuned machine--that cabinet. If I pull just the right strings I might be able to swing the majority by at least 25%. We’ve had entirely too many close votes over the last three years. I know the people need that extra money. I know people who don’t qualify technically for the relief are also hurting. But when you start throwing your weight like you’ve been, it can read bad, you know. Like you and I aren’t a unified front. That’s why I called you out on it. Not because I’m trying to undermine you. Because I’ve got strings you don’t have, unfortunate as it is that you don’t. There’s a lot of old heads in this game. You’re right that they’ve lost focus. Maybe they’ve gotten comfortable with where they are and haven’t gotten okay with the idea of letting some people die or be unwell. But not me. I have not.”

His father’s words are a relief in some parts. But Calum can’t help the crawl of his skin. His father played the game just to help him or at least is playing the game to help him. The same thing Calum wanted to avoid all together and it was seemingly the thing that might save him. Perhaps, politics would also be a game that left a bit of residue. There’d be no way to escape it without carrying a mark. What happens if I get dirty? Hw asked you just a few evenings ago. Now, Calum can’t help but think perhaps, it’s not a question of if, but a question of when. 

“I-I didn’t realize you were trying to swing some centers,” Calum offers. He assumes centers would be easier to pull over than extremes. They could nudge them ever so closer to the center of a stance but not make them allies. 

“A few centers. One on the conservative side; I think she’s only pulling that way for optics. I don’t think she’s strongly tied to the words she says outwardly.”

Calum knows exactly who his father is referring to--Hallie, overseeing Foreign Affairs, has taken recently to more conservative views publicly. She’d always danced the fine line from center to extreme, but hadn’t made any significant moves to solidify her standing. It made her a wild card in voting which was good to have. However, with the more impending transition of power, she’d seemingly taken a more solid stance. Whether it was to help her with other members or if it was to help her public image, Calum isn’t sure. He’d essentially given up on her vote, if he’s honest. 

“Do you think she could pull others?” Calum questions.

His father shrugs--a noncommittal move, but Calum knows there’s more under the surface. “Potentially. I’ve heard she’s gotten caught in a bit of a mess and someone might be holding it over her head. I’m not certain about any of this. It’s all quiet right now.”

“But loud enough for you to catch wind of it though.”

His father grins, peeling open the biscuit. “What can I say? I’ve got good hearing.”

That earns a chuckle from Calum and he reaches back for his own plate, getting a few pieces of the scrambled eggs onto his fork. “I knew I got it from someone.”

His father laughs, a light elbow to Calum’s side. “Aye, that you did. I’m sorry I didn’t make all this clear to you before. You don’t have the same access that I do and I can see why that  wouldn’t have been clearer before.”

It’s water Calum can let float to the bottom of the bridge now. There’s no reason to have a rage anymore. Though, the sting is still felt. “I’m sorry I didn’t fess up earlier.” He’s not sorry about how he acted when he did. Calum hadn’t had a clue otherwise, but wallowing truly hadn’t saved him in the end. 

A rather strong pat lands on Calum’s shoulder. “We’re all good now, I hope? After lunch we can talk more. I’ll share what I know.”

Calum nods. “Sounds good, Dad. Sounds good.”  His father reaches for the spread in front of them and gives thanks to you as you deposit another plate of food for him. Calum itches to take your hand, telling you to swipe the smirk off your face. But he settles for the exchange of your raised brow and his eye roll. He can already hear you say, Wasn’t so bad was it? You’d of course be right, but he won’t admit that without at first without a little defiance.

_______________________________ 

You look great. Soon after that message, another message buzzes your phone. And your jeans have no flour on them, shockingly. You huff at Calum’s joke. “Asshole,” you mutter but resign yourself to the fact that the black jeans and olive green button up are the best you’re going to get. It’s not like you  needed validation about the outfit, but you were nervous that maybe it was too casual. It’s all you have in terms of more formal clothing. Most of your closet had morphed into work clothes and clothes for errands. You held onto remnants that would be better suited for other kinds of outings but those felt way too formal for lunch.  

“This is it,” you whisper to yourself. It’s meant to pep talk, but somehow the sentence feels inadequate. No, it’s not inadequate. It’s exactly what you expected. This is not what you’d want to show up in. This isn’t what you’d expect for a partner of Calum’s. Yet, this is what you have. Wallowing’s never done anyone any good and you know that better than anyone. Especially not if wallowing is going to make you late. 

You’re at the service entrance before you really notice. It doesn’t shock you. The routine is burned deep into your muscles. Your body knows it better than your brain at this point. Your walk is brisk up to the door. 

“Old habits die hard, I see.”

You pause at the door, head turning to the voice. There, Joy sits, perched on the bench that Calum usually greets you at. She looks calm, settled with her hands in her lap. This is not starting off on the right foot. You’re choking before you’ve had a chance to get it anyway. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I could’ve sworn no one was there,” you apologize. 

“No, no, it’s okay. A little birdie told me you’d probably come this way.” Joy smiles, eyes taking you in gently. “You look nice. That’s a nice green. C’mon, my car’s just over here.”

“Oh, thank you, Joy.” A win, a small point in the list of you having not fucked this up completely. 

The first few minutes of the drive pass by in silence. Though the radio is on, and you can hear the song playing softly, and you do hear the click of Joy’s blinker, the two of you are locked with your focus on the road. You know Joy is sweet. You know that, but you also know Joy is a mother. Calum’s mother more specifically too. Somehow the further and further you get from the castle grounds the less you know how you’re supposed to act anymore. How does anyone interact with the parents?

“Feel free to change the radio if you want. I’m not picky,” Joy offers as she slows due to a yellow light. 

“I bought my car a few years back, the radio stations were pre-programmed because I got it used. I haven’t changed a single thing about the stations,” you confess. 

Joy laughs. “Why do you think that is? Do you like those stations?”

“It feels too permanent. Like it’s really mine if I set the stations.” It feels silly to admit that out loud. That somehow you’ve been too worried about permanence because of radio stations. But if you’re honest you just keep waiting for something to come along and force you to adapt to a new change. If you’re honest, you’re waiting for the other shoe to fucking drop on you. Your life is far from perfect, but this is somehow the smoothest it’s gone for years. Could it last forever?

“But,” you continue on after the silence settles and thickens, “I’ve grown to really enjoy classic rock.”

That makes Joy laugh. “Well, as long as you’re enjoying the music.” 

You wonder if you really are, but you nod anyway. There would be time later to decide if her statement means more than you think it does. 

It’s not a long wait when the two of you arrive to get a table. You follow behind Joy but it’s not lost on you as you walk past the other patrons that they are staring. Not that you fault them. Should you have been in their shoes, you think you’d stare too, watching the Queen enter the same restaurant as you. Let alone caring to think about who else they’re with. But you know the questions will come. Should anyone be spotted with the Queen, questions would arise. You can’t help but wonder if lunch in the public is the first nail popped in your coffin. How much of your life would stay yours now? Maybe most of it, but you have nothing to base this off of so you know anything can happen at this point. 

“Doing anything interesting in your spare time? Not that you seem to take it a lot, but,” Joy grins. 

“Gotta work to survive at this point. But um, I sort of paint. In my free time.”

“Sort of paint or just painting?” Joy questions on. 

“I paint. But it’s-it’s just for fun.”

“Even if it’s just for fun, it’s still the thing, you know? Are you working on anything at the moment?”

You can’t think of the last time you truly painted. It’d been weeks if you’re honest. Perhaps, prior to your budding relationship with Calum was the last time you remember really painting in the spare time you had. Now you were splitting that already limited resource in a multitude of ways. “It’s been a little bit. Nothing new right now,” you offer. “But I’ll get back to it soon.”

You pause, eyes glancing over the menu. But your mind is running a marathon. What do you ask Joy in return? Can you even ask her about her day? You don’t want to seem rude. But you feel that panic clawing at your bones. You are out of your league. You are so far out of your league. There’s more mediator, no one in the middle that can help volley topics so you are left with your own wits. You throw the soft lob--asking Joy about her day. It’s easy and as she answers, you’re hoping that you can find another thread to pull at. Joy keeps it at the surface, mentioning that the day was good overall. 

All your shots have been blown but the waiter interrupts the fallout. After your drinks are ordered, you settle the menu down. You know what you want and you wonder if there’s any reason to act like the material can be like a shield. 

“So is it just you? Do you have siblings?” Joy asks. She’s placed her menu to the side as well. 

“Two younger than me. One brother, one sister.”

“Most have been a full house then, no?”

“It’s-it’s a bit more complicated than that. But they’re still in school and doing well. Though they keep growing up faster than I can keep up with them.”

Joy’s smile is soft, gaze turning away from you just a little. You wonder if she’s thinking about her own children. “Yeah, kids tend to do that. No matter how much you want them to stay little forever. Though, it shocks me to think about all those growth spurts even now.”

“A lot of ankle pants?” you tease. 

“So many,” Joy laughs. “The pants would fit one week and then the next, it’s at the knees. Could hardly keep up.”

“It’s shoes for me. Charlie just keeps outgrowing them.”

“And is that your brother or sister?” Joy asks, pushing in just a little on her side of the table. 

“Brother. Teagan’s the youngest, my sister.”

“Okay,” Joy nods. “So we’ve got a brother and sister. Parents to some degree, no? Even if it is complicated.”

You shake your head no, nails digging into the meat of your fingers. “Well, no to the parents on my end. They’re more involved for my siblings.”

“Thanks for clarifying. Well, if you ever need anything, just let me know, okay?”

You should stop yourself and just accept the offer. But the words tumble over your lips faster than you can swallow them back. “You mean that?”

“Of course, I mean that. I care about you, if that’s worth anything of course,” Joy counters. “I don’t know what you experienced obviously. But I do want to be someone you can trust.”

“I-I thought this whole ordeal was really to tell me to get lost or something if I’m honest.”

The furrow of Joy’s brows makes your chest spasm. Oh, there it is. The strike against you. “He’s the happiest I’ve seen in years. No, no, I really just wanted to get to know you better is all. It’s hard to do there in the castle. You’re always working. We’re sort of in a battle of power balances. But, no, no, I’m sorry if it seemed that way.”

“That-that was just me. Nervous really. I’m, well, the cook as you know. I imagined that you might’ve envisioned differently for him.”

Joy nods. Her hands push in a little closer to yours and the hold is soft as she takes your hands. “I’m his mother first. I will always be his mother first. The only thing I want for him is to be happy. He seems happy with you. I’m there for the highs and the lows. I’m there for all that’s good and all that’s bad too. There are societal expectations that we both know exist--for better, for worse and for the ugly, they exist. I for one am not telling him what he should do when it comes to matters of his love life. I’d be a poor director because I don’t know Calum like that. He’s my son. The little boy I carted around to practices and shipped off to Brazil for two years to play footie. He’s the kid that begged and begged to get a guitar. I’ve cleaned his scraped knees and I’ve tried to build him into a good person, but he’s got his own life to live. I just want him to live it well.”

Joy squeezes your hands again. “As Queen of course, with the political game we’re in, we--and I’m not including you in this, you are separate--we have a team. They’re looking at optics, numbers, and public relations. As Queen, I have to consider this part and it’s not comfortable to do that. It’s really aggravating that Calum and you both know that there’s a perspective other than wanting your own happiness. But as a mother, it’s all bullshit.”

This is the first time you’ve heard Joy swear. The word falls harshly from her lips like it hurts her own ribs to even have to say it, but she scrunches her nose with a shake of her head and you know. She means it. She’s being honest about the reality. She is Calum’s mother who only wants him happy and she is also Queen who has to operate within the confines of her own operation. A giggle falls over your lips at her face. You squeeze her hands back. Maybe it’s not all bad. To know at the very least, Joy saw you like a mother would. 

“I’ve been working class all my life,” you confess. Like you want Joy to see you through and through. Not that you think she has any trouble doing that. 

“You’re a hard worker and smart about your wits.”

“I hate politics and politicians,” you try. Not that you want a strike against you. Not that you want to give Joy a reason to dismiss you. But you need her to know this. 

She leans in. “And tell me something I wouldn’t be able to guess.”

I might be in love with your son. I think I do love him. The words are burning the tip of your tongue, having singed the back of your teeth. Perhaps, Joy might be able to guess all of that. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You won’t,” Joy returns. Her words are quiet, but fierce. The sentence hits the table and you hear the echo in your ears throughout the rest of your dinner. You won’t fuck this up. 

You climb back into your car, after bidding Joy a good night and promising to find another day to do lunch or the early dinner again in a few more weeks. Now that you are alone, the clear front windshield being just enough privacy, you let the lump you’d been swallowing down push its way up. I care about you. You won’t fuck this up. She makes caring look easy. Perhaps for someone like her, it is--someone who knows just how much hurt is lingering and wanting nothing more than to put a salve on it. 

Joy couldn’t fix what was broken after your parents chose the bottle over you. That would be only something you could work on and heal. But she certainly makes you think it might be worth fixing. You blink and the parking lot clears for only a moment before the dust on your windshield swims again in your vision. Why would she care so much about you? She’d have such an easy enough reason not to care, but she chooses to care. 

You sniffle, taking your wrist to wipe at your nose and eyes. Your skin is hot and raw. No matter how much you try to tell yourself she shouldn’t care, the fact still remains that she did. Your chest aches. You lean forward, forehead resting against the stop of your steering wheel.  The warmth you felt after she helped you set up the tables has laid like a wool blanket over your skin. Now with this lunch, you realize just how much you miss a mother’s touch. You crave it. Now that you’ve had this small dosage, the child in you wants nothing more than to crawl into Joy’s orbit. She’s a sun with her own gravity and it hurts just a little to leave it. 

You don’t think Calum’s even able to answer.  Yet, it’s the only thing you can think to do. You know that dinner’s being served. He should be eating. Perhaps, he’s even meeting Joy to talk about the evening. Even if his phone goes to voicemail, you still need to get it off your chest. You know you can tell him and he won’t judge you. 

“Hey, baby. How’d it go?”

You blink, coming to the senses that it’s Calum who’s answered. “Well, it went well,” you answer. You can hear how thick your voice sounds with the tears that are falling. 

“You--are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I just--I’m going to steal your mother. Like, god forbid this fall apart, I’d still steal your mother. It’s going to happen. You can’t stop it.” It’s tough to get the sentences out. Your body just wants to let that sob shaking your chest come out. 

“She is pretty great. Where are you, baby? Do you think a hug would help?”

“St-still outside in the lot,” you hiccup out. 

“Service lot?” Calum questions. 

“Ye-yes.”

“Stay on the line, okay?”

“Okay.” You take a big inhale to help even your breathing. It’s still shaky and there’s no amount of the napkins in your glovebox that can stop the flow of your tears. From Calum’s end you can hear some shuffling. Voices float through soon after. You catch mostly Calum’s but you do hear his father and Joy in the background. 

“I’ll be right back. Just gotta step outside…Yeah, yeah, everything’s okay…Please don’t steal all of them though, Mum. I do actually want my breadsticks.”

You’re only listening, trying to suck down the tears and snot. The door opens and closes--you think it’s more staff. They leave the door and head to the far side of the lot. There’s a bit more crackling through the phone. “You still there?” Calum asks. 

“I am,” you croak out. Your throat is dry and you know you’re still holding back the true dam. Though, this crack is enough to let you know how much is still left behind. 

The click of the door through the phone lets you know that Calum’s close. You still can’t quite see clearly even as you do your best to wipe your eyes. But his figure gets closer and closer to your car. Pushing open the door, you peel yourself out of the seat. You’re not even sure if the call ends. All you can focus on is inhaling Calum’s scent as you bury your face into his shoulder. “You said it went well,” Calum teases as his hand strokes up and down your back. 

“It did,” you return. “I swear it did.”

“Went so well you’re threatening to steal my mum and crying, huh?”

“Just shut up and hug me, please,” you whisper into his neck.

Calum laughs, arms squeezing around your waist. “I think I can do that.” 

It takes a minute for your body to stop shaking, for you to reconnect with your limbs so that you feel in control of them. When you do, you loosen your grip around Calum’s torso. He pulls away just a little from you, thumb rubbing over your cheek. You can see the dark patch on the shoulder from where your face resided. “I ruined your shirt.”

“It can be washed,” Calum counters. “I’m taking you at your word that everything’s okay. But if you do want to talk about it, I’m here. I’m here.”

Your face feels tight with the tears. You know your eyes are red. But you stare at Calum, a little uncaring about the world around you. “I don’t always want to be so closed off. But I-it’s just easier that way. Your mom--I just cracked. She just cares and I’ve never had that.” Mrs. Shirley cared, you knew that. She took you under her wing in a way that an aunt might. They’re there when you need them and they make you feel safe. With Joy you feel seen--like transparent tape in front of her. 

“It’s okay, baby. You won’t always be closed off.”

There it is again, an absolute in the midst of a muddy sea. You don’t even have the heart to rebuttal that. Perhaps Calum saw things you couldn’t. Perhaps he holds the same optimism his mother does. Perhaps you want a piece of it too. 

Calum offers that you can stay the night if you want, but you don’t have your uniform here and don’t want to hog his whole evening. You think you just need some space to allow yourself to decompress. You can only imagine should you get home you’ll only end up crying again in your shower. You want that though. You want that release. It’s not an ache Calum can fix. You just feel full, emotionally constipated in a way that you know time with others may only make it worse. 

“I’ll call,” you promise. “I promise I’ll call you. There’s a lot in my head right now.”

Calum nods. “Call when you’re ready. And here,” he reaches to the hood of your car and pulls off a bottle of water. “Drink a little of that before you go too.”

“Aye, captain,” you tease, taking the preopend bottle from Calum. The sips are hard to get down. The swallows hurt your throat though you know soon it’ll soothe itself out. Calum sends you off with a kiss to your forehead and yet another promise that you call. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the shower connected to your room than you are when you return home. You’re never more thankful that the water takes the tears down with it. Your childhood self, you realize as you stare down your bloodshot eyes, has never had once had a second to grieve. You haven’t been able to mourn what you’ve felt cheated out of. It’s always been the glances over your shoulder, the anxiety that everything that had gone good in your life would somehow fall out from beneath you. 

But you are in a stable job. You can keep the roof over your head. You can keep your fridge and your shelf of the pantry stocked. You can do everything you need and still help your siblings. There are some many things going right for you, but you’ve only ever looked at what you lacked. You don’t even want to call it stupidity. How could it ever be stupid after everything you faced to worry? You’d only been blinded by your own need to survive. 

You won’t always be closed off. You won’t fuck this up. 

You’ve never been a fuck up, if you’re honest. Your parents actions were not a reflection of your capacity. Yet, you’d carried their actions like a cross on your back. You wore the mark of their decision like a crown of thorns. You couldn’t do it forever. You’d have to learn that the world is shitty and people are too, but there’s still good in it. There’s still people who care. I care about you, if it’s worth anything. And it feels like gold in your palms when you think of it. 

[marshmallowprotection]

hellooooo 🖤 could i request something with jumin, zen & saeyoung (or just jumin if three is too many !) with a goth s/o (maybe like romantic goth? 🤔) i hope you're having a lovely day :,)

Zen is the last person you should ever be worried about not appreciating or respecting your sense of individuality. He knows what it feels like to have people say things about you and your appearance every single day.

The last thing he would ever do is judge somebody else for something they do with their body. If you like to dress in dark colors, okay, what does he have to stand in being against that? Absolutely nothing.

He supports you being yourself and that's all that matters at the end of the day. He has actually dressed up in gothic attire for a couple of his shows before in the past and he appreciated the way that the style worked for him. It wouldn't be that hard to talk him into doing it again. It's not like he wouldn't try it for fun.

It's even better that you're a lovey-dovey kind of person because that's the kind of person he is. The two of you will be the most insufferable couple on the planet. But that's okay because you're insufferable together and that is the best kind of romance.

The kind where you are able to be yourself with the person you love most without any embarrassment.

Jumin would really enjoy your sense of style and believe it or not. If there is something he enjoys more than anything in this world it is the chance to be able to see somebody shine as they are. There is something about individuality and the way that everybody expresses that in society outside of the bounds and the confines of what he was raised in that makes him feel warm inside.

He has always had to live his life in a very peculiar way and he didn't have the opportunity to express himself beyond those walls. He doesn't have many people to share his interest with and a lot of them are very dark and macabre.

Who better to understand him than somebody who bathes themselves in the darkness and understands what it feels like to want a sense of individuality that goes against the grain of everything society stands for?

He would appreciate your style and even though it's not something that he would personally wear, he likes seeing you be yourself more than anything else in this world. Nobody will ever say a cruel word about your style because you are confident and you deserve to be. There is no person he would rather have at his side than somebody like you, somebody who loves him and doesn't care about the superficialness of appearance.

As long as he can be himself with you, that's all that matters.

Saeyoung thrives when he's able to express himself with fashion. It doesn't matter what it is, when he has the opportunity to dress up, he will take it and it doesn't matter what style is reflected in the closet, he's going to go for it. He can appreciate anybody who has taken the time to figure out their personal sense of style and knows what makes them feel good.

He knows what makes him feel good and oftentimes, that is a style that allows him to feel rather effeminate. It goes against the grain of what cishet societal standards demand of him but he doesn't care. He enjoys being able to be himself, and that means he would thrive the minute he gets to see you in your true colors.

There is no reason why he wouldn't be supportive of you wearing this fashion subculture. In fact, it wouldn't take much to get him to dress up that way with you because he loves being able to share his love of fashion with somebody who means the world to him. You can spend hours figuring out different outfits that work together so that you can be that couple.

You know, that couple that is always coordinated together and everybody wants to be, but sometimes it takes a little bit too much work. But, it's worth the work.