#sadly idk how to describe most of this

[fungal-wasted]

Ancestral, Overgrown and Crystallized Mounds

Or, another one of those posts where I look at backgrounds to get art references and perhaps some information.

Disclaimer: I don't know much about actual architecture to use proper terms, nor am ai fully familiar with the materials presented.

Credits: All images were taken by @dromaeo-sauridae. We had fun talking about these areas.

The Mounds are places scattered around the map, where the snail shamans seem to reside in. We can find three of them in-game, one in the Crossroads, another one in Crystal Peak and a third one in the border between Queen's Gardens and Fog Canyon. This section focuses mainly on what makes the mounds stand out and what elements they share with other places in the game.

All three mounds:

Are closed places that must be accessed through an entrance, and as such, can't be seen fully with the in-game map.

Have wood-like planks as the main material

Have mask-like patterns on their floors and walls.

have at least one structure that resembles the ribs and spine of a larger cresture

Have masks hanging from sticks

Use torches

Now, let's take a more detailed look.

The bench in the Ancestral mound seems to have it's own unique design, and is colored lighter than most other benches. We can see something resembling ribs right next to the Shaman. Now: how likely are bones to be found in the game? We don't know much of the world beyond the system of caverns we commonly refer to as Hallownest. However, mamy people consider Gruz Mother to have a spine, and tools like the mantis claw are made from it, so, by some means, the snails have made use of these bones. Another possibility has to do with the Forest of Bones that did not make it into the final game but... that's not the point of this post.

In this path we can notice two main elements. Firstly, the walls seem to be made of curved structures, that could be bone, once again, or another sturdy material. Secondly, we can see wood planks on the foreground. The closest mention we have of wood comes from Zote's nail being made of shellwood. What this material is exactly and how it is obtained is not shown directly, but I will state from now that it is present in almost every area, either in one-way shortcuts, or support. The Mounds have an abundance of it, though.

Two things thay stand out to me here are the nets with.... masks? pebbles? on them. I am not sure about their purpose beyond storage. This photo also gives a closer look to the shellwood structure. Some kind of rope is used to make it stick together.

We can also get a closer look at the torches. What fuel do they use? Why use them instead of lumaflies? So far, the mounds and the Colosseum of Fools are the only places I recall using torches for lighting. Lurien and Herrah have candles surrounding them, but that seems to have a different purpose.

Bigger masks can be found on the walls all over the place. The design doesn't particularly match any seen bug. Though I must admit I have not checked for resemblances to the Soul Totems or other creatures. It's more likely just a generic mask design.

Here you can get a look at the Overgrown Mound, showing more of the same elements, except the place is covered in moss. The mask on a stick has a slight resemblance to a vessel's head, but this sprite is reused in all mounds and besides there isn't much new to point out.

And finally, these are images of the Crystallized Mound, from the tunnel that leads towards its entrance, the gate itself snd the place where the last Snail was located.

[another-random-paradise]

The future awaits

bringing up the future while you're together

characters: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim

Format: Headcanons

warnings: None that i can think off

Riddle

-You'd probably bring it up while drinking tea together

-He'd go quiet for a moment, deep in thought

-He is so caught up in making sure everybody follows the rules and studying, that he never really had the time to think about it

-He'd be very serious about it 

-He wants to marry you in the future, that's for sure 

-Probably wants a kid or two

-Honestly wants a very typical future, a house, a stable job, ect.

-I'm not really sure what Job he would want/have. Maybe he'd take after his mother and become a doctor, or maybe something to do with politics. I could also see him as a judge, due to his ability to memorise rules, or in this case laws, and his tendency to punish rulebreakers accordingly

-i feel like he wouldn't have preference about wether you work or not

-ALSO, If you are the one to bring up kids and marriage, especially if you start describing it in detail (Like your dream wedding, or what your kids could look like) he'd grow very flustered, very quickly

-Poor guy still isn't used to affection, even if you two have been in a relationship for quite a while already 

-all in all, he'd take the question very seriously. He wants a typical, almost stereotypical, future

Leona

-You'd probably bring it up while he uses you as a pillow cuddling

-He'd scoff 

-"Why are you worrying about that now??" or something along those lines.

- He most likely brushes you off in favor of sleeping

-or at least, that's what he'd tell you

-the question might actually keep him up a bit longer, he's seriously thinking about it

-In his dreams, of course, he'd be king and you'd be his consort, as you rule over the land together, admired by all. But that will sadly remain just a dream, and he knows it

-Instead he opts for wanting a quiet live, where the two of you can just laze around all day, everyday 

-He probably doesn't want to live too close to his brother and sister-in-law, either on the opposite side of the palace, or in some sort of estate a bit further away (idk how moving out as royalty works tbh)

-I don't think he would want kids, too much work

-all in all, a quiet life where the two of you won't be bothered

Azul

-Immediately flustered, no matter how long you have already been dating

-I don't think he'll ever get used to affection

-another one that gets really serious, but this one is really flustered while he talks 

-He'll definetly will want to continue the mostro lounge buisness, just outside of school. Maybe one day take over his mothers buisness too, so she can retire.

-He won't even realise it, but he might just start talking about your wedding, about wether you'll get married on land or in the sea, ect..

-tease him about it, and he'll put Riddle's hair to shame

-tbh he wouldn't want much to change from now, he wants to be with you, keep running a successful business, and stay close with the twins

Kalim

-Immediately gets excited 

-If you're on the magic carpet, you'd have to hold onto him so neither of you fall off-

-Immediately starts rambling about all the things he wants to do with you in the future 

-He wants a VERY big wedding, like the type that continues over multiple days, he just  really wants to spoil you and show the whole world how much he loves you

-He most likely wants a big family, the man has like 40 siblings, he wouldn't be used to anything else

-He's already planning hundreds of party's you two will could hold in the future!!

-He probably won't shut up for a good few hours. Good luck

-You'd have a very annoyed Jamil the next day, because after you brought it up, he would not shut up about wedding plans and stuff. Jamil had to force him to sleep.

-He'd be even clingier than normally after this 

First time writing and posting headcanons, kinda nervous-

Feedback is welcomed, just be nice please!! hope you enjoyed and have a nice day :)

[pervcoded]

bloodhound starring yuuji itadori.

content warning: no pronouns used, but reader is implied to be dfab.

reader is dealing with their period/pms.

roughhousing/fighting (they are training), scent kink, yuuji and reader are 18+, sukuna is here too yuuji. funky (very slight) mind-control/subtle influence aspects. perverted thoughts. reader is annoyed by everything. no penetration/sex. yuuji smells you ovulating lmao? begging (from yuuji). dry humping. idk i was just writing shit and the plot got outta hand.

Yuuji’s changed since Sukuna came along.

Not something you acknowledged at first - of course, it would be within reason to anticipate some degree of pushback from the curse. A never before seen bond between human and … less-than-benevolent spirit was sure to have some stubborn aftereffects. It seems that little whisper of a king took care to extend his influence more permanently than you’d appreciate, frankly.

Yuuji’s senses have been unnaturally keen as of late. Not the ‘notice your new haircut’ kind of attentive - that natural knowledge that comes with closeness - but,

eerily observant. Sukuna’s cohabitation of Yuuji’s body seemed to have bolstered his olfactory systems in bizarre ways. Or maybe the curse had just gotten attached to the scent of your flesh.

Like when he noticed when you ran out of lavender shampoo, you started using citrus. Or when he shouted in front of ‘Gumi and Nobara about how you definitely changed your perfume. Weird shit. Mr. Paying-Too-Much-Attention just tried to brush it off.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was keeping tabs on you. He tried to be completely normal otherwise - even apologized about the perfume; though Megumi and Nobara ensure you never hear the end of it.

But he’s doing it again right now. In the lull of your training, he seems stunned for a moment; seemingly overtaken by the presence of something around him. When you ask ‘what?’, he responds with a question.

“Do you smell that?” He huffs the air like he’s starved for it, the genuine curiosity bouncing around in his eyes confounding more than it intrigued. His eyes are half-lid, dogged and low, like a bloodhound taking index of nearby quarries. He’s paused your flow, stopped your energy, and besides; “The only thing I can smell is you.” You scowl. You stand with your arms akimbo, lips subtly quirked in irritation. He looks gagged by that response, but keeps breathing deep; lids fluttering delicately to half-lids. 

 “Yuuji.” You go to cross your arms, glaring daggers. “Yuuji, c’mon, I need you to focus.” “Mmn." His nose wriggles; it's a little cute. "But it smells so good… You sure you didn’t bring food in here? I can’t focus with that- ah - smell.” He seems labored by it, but it’s not so strange for Yuuji to be incredibly dramatic about most things. “It smells like…mhn.” Failing to describe the scent, you rapidly find yourself disinterested in his little moment. But he’s insistent on having it.

He licks his lips til’ they shine under the fluorescent, fanged teeth poking from his upper lip as he makes a face. A brutal, not-quite-smile, then something else, reserved as he retained the barest hint of control. He looked feral, like a wolf twitching with pent up aggression, holding out for the fawn to tottle past.

You occasionally envied his inclination towards the eccentric- frankly freaky sometimes- but sadly, at present you lacked the patience. You’re not playing games this week, and definitely not today.

It feels like everything and everyone’s been pissing you off for like half the week. Nobody seems to be on the right timing - no, not even Nobara, who seems more to your speed even when you’re in a bad mood with the rest of them. Nothing happened (you think) to make you feel angry, this pent up, but you think the others have noticed and politely adjusted their behavior. Giving you more space during breaks, keeping conversations to polite banter and short chats, getting you snacks… 

Oh, now he’s starting to make you a little hungry. That’s what you think it is, that low simper in your belly as your vexation grows; tired of his antics. “Stop fucking around, man. I know this shit comes easy to you - or whatever - but I’m not letting you get me behind on training. Stand up.” The demand in your voice doesn’t seem to inspire motivation. Rather it just makes him annoyed, his brows now furrowed as he (bordering on obsessively) sniffs the air. Gets a whiff of something beautiful. Like blood pumping through veins, decadent, succulent, dripping, and raw. Rubs a bit of drool from his lips.

Sukuna’s been chittering in the time you weren’t. A faint locust buzz crescendos into airplanes flying overhead, a mantra tittering in the back of his head over and over again. 

It’s you. It’s you, It’s you, It’s you, It’s you.  Sukuna didn’t have to tell him that, really - he’s not that dumb - but forgive him for wanting to pretend like you’re not making him tent his sweatpants. He’s been smelling you all week - and after that argument with you and the gang on Tuesday, apparently nobody else noticed anything had changed. Granted, it’s not like he hates it; quite the contrary, actually… 

You smell too good. Like a forbidden delicacy; savory and not too sweet. Oh, if only he could get you on his tongue. The thought is as foreign as it is tantalizing. He’s quick to assume Sukuna has something to do with it - but when he’s still having those thoughts when Sukuna hasn’t spoken to him in days, he’d think it irresponsible to not take some accountability for it. He scowls to himself, glancing at you in his periphery as you practice your striking form.

(You dance through the air, the power in your thrust brought forth from the entirety of your body; each muscle, moving in perfect sync. The more you work yourself up - the stronger the scent of you gets. It’s like a pheromone, wafting irritatingly through the space, driving him fucking mad -)

“Your yearning is pathetic.” Yuuji’s mouth goes dry as Sukuna’s mouth splits open a space behind his ear; but you must not hear him - too busy slicing through nothing. “I’ve never understood playing with your food. If you’re strong enough to take the sorcerer - they’re yours to be had.” He reflexively goes to shut him up.

You’ve barely wanted to be near him all week. Or any of the gang, really. You’ve been acting differently, too. Quicker to anger and cutthroat, more territorial - less affectionate. You’re only training together because you pressed him for it, like you were dead set on showing him up. 

He thinks you’re doing fine. (Sukuna thinks it’s cute how hard you try).

You step too close and Yuuji’s head snaps to you on cue, and for a moment you think something’s wrong. He’s perched low down, searching you. Considering you, staring you up with that look. You recognize it - better suited to a battlefield and carnage - but it’s good to know he’s finally paying you attention. A full-minded, beady-eyed focus, as if you were a spirit in need of exorcism. He looks hungry for it.

You shuffle back reflexively, too wired to go down to some low-blow. “Oh? You ready to get back to it then?” You resume your offense, leaning into your stance as you watch Yuuji stagger to his legs almost drunkenly; and yet not taking his eyes off you. He balls his hands up into fists, feet shifting into position. “Yeah. I think m’ready. If you are.” His curtness is greatly appreciated, though you can’t help but quirk your brow at his change of pace. You squat lower, tighten your grip on your training weapon. 

You push in at the same time. The point of contact - his fist and your naginata - disappears in a  void of darkness. Tendrils of black jut out in all directions, and all you hear is the crrrr - ACK! of your wooden instrument;  split clean in two as the ‘sharp’ end goes flying and leaving you with the blunted shaft. He’s on top of you as soon as you recover, reaching forward with a quick jab you barely dodge.

The sweat runs off your forehead as you dart backwards, swiftly slamming the wooden handle down into his skull.  The naginata cracks into nothing. He is hardly winded. 

He reaches out for you and you dive to the side, throwing up your arm to shield your chest before Yuuji nearly caves it in.

“-shit!”

You’re gasping, nearly falling on your ass as the force of Yuuji’s kick knocks the air out of your lungs.

“- ah, fuck -”

There’s a feeling besides fear, there. A sudden shuddering in your limbs and a faintness in your head that makes you drop low to the ground, your legs wobbling ever so slightly, 

before they give, the blood rushing away from your head as a new pain blooms deep within your stomach. It joins the one in your chest, tormenting you. 

Yuuji’s on top of you when your vision returns from black (did you close your eyes? You hadn’t noticed), half concerned and half… well -

He’s got you pinned to the training mat below, weight audaciously pressing into your stomach as he plants himself firmly on top of you. There’s something hard down there, jabbing insistently into you that perplexes you for only a second; until his face tells you everything to know.

His gaze is hazy, like he’s coming off that high but not quite - got your arms pinned above your head even if he no longer needs to use that kind of force. His face is red, blushed from ear to ear, and your analysis is momentarily interrupted by his voice cutting through the silence. 

“Well, I won,” He huffs, rocking his hips a little. “Don’t I get a prize? Y’know - for winning?” He leans more to your level. You’re in no rush to buck him off - the pressure doesn’t feel that bad; actually.

"What?"

Your voice is breathy and incredulous when you fully come to.

“You want a fucking cookie or somethin’?” To your amusement, he nods excitedly. One of his hands leaves yours to slowly trail down your front. That focus still hadn’t lifted from him, his attention concentrated solely on the line he’s driving down your stomach.

“Yeah, something like that.” 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ JJK/BANNER ART by gege akutami

all content written by me @ciematis, is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

monday, kim jiwoong — advanced drama

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.8k ⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used a couple times) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down) ⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated. ⋆˙⟡ monday summary: it's monday, the first day of the school week. you're excited for your advanced drama class, but not too keen on the person you're always forced to run into there. suave, charismatic, repulsively arrogant: kim jiwoong lives to make your life just a bit harder. and lucky you: today he's your scene partner. ⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific warnings under the cut! angst. lighttt dub-con. bullying. jiwoong plays romeo, that should be a warning for the faint of heart. the smut is fairly light in general. it's only monday guys, we have to survive six consecutive days so let's pace ourselves, ya know? ⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★☆☆ (3)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: fingering/heavy petting (reader receiving), dub-con kind of sort of idk better safe than sorry, bullying, degrading sexual names.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

“an exciting day today, as always,” professor lee announces from the center of your chair circle.  “we’ll be performing a series of famous two-character scenes in the second half of the class and you’ll have the first half to prepare with your scene partner.” 

all of your classmates begin to whisper loudly. several two-character scenes would undoubtedly include some romance. the thought made your head spin with anxiety.

your best friend mina softly kicks your foot with her’s. you turn to look at her, a stunning grin shining back at you. 

“i hope i get paired with jiwoong oppa,” she says, giggling quietly. 

you scowl. even knowing all the hell that kim jiwoong and his rat bastard friends have caused you this entire year, mina persistently eyes the inconveniently beautiful man with googly eyes through every class. 

curious as to how the man himself is reacting to today’s assignment, you steal a glance in his direction: a terrible mistake. jiwoong is leaned back in his chair, one shoe resting on the opposite knee in a cocky, relaxed position. his hair is pushed neatly behind his ears, fashionable brown slacks and a cream-colored sweater tucked into his belt— arms crossed over his chest. 

skin perfect and glowing under his black, wire-framed glasses. tongue poking at his cheek in an arrogant smile.

staring right at you.

you immediately look back down at your lap, trying your best to appear unbothered by the bait that jiwoong’s hooked for you.

“i’ll be picking names out of this jar to assign parts at random and, from there, we’ll just jump right in,” professor lee explains as the chatter comes to a halt. “there’s props and minimal costume pieces in the storage closet at your disposal as usual.”

mina bounces her leg happily beside you, fingers crossed behind her chair for good luck. you shake your head sadly. the thing she’s wishing for is the thing you dread most.

“the first scene will be from bonnie and clyde. caroline-sshi will be reading for bonnie,” professor lee calls as he pulls the first slip of paper out of the jar, followed by the second. “and ichan-sshi will read for clyde.”

there’s a chorus of teasing oooooh’s throughout the room, caroline and ichan shyly waving to each other until your professor holds up his hand for silence. 

“for our second scene, we have an excerpt from medea,” professor lee says, reaching into the glass jar. “the role of medea will be played by… mina-sshi. and the role of jason will be played by…”

mina’s eyes light up at both the meaty assignment and the anticipation of who her scene partner will be.

“yijin-sshi,” he finishes.

the class giggles at the two sweet girls playing such contentious ex-lovers. mina sighs disappointedly and returns her attention to her shoes.

“our third scene will be from romeo and juliet,” professor lee calls, two slips of paper between his fingers. “reading for romeo, we’ll have… jiwoong-sshi.”

nearly everyone gasps in awe at the casting. how fitting of an actor for such a part! how did jiwoong always manage to get assigned the best roles? who will get to read for juliet?

you dare to steal another glimpse at jiwoong. he’s sitting forward now, legs spread apart with his forearms resting on his thighs— focusing on his hands as he waits. you truly feel sorry for the chump that has to spend the next forty minutes alone with him.

“and the role of juliet will be played by… (y/n)-sshi.”

oh for f*ck’s sake. out of 19 possible partners, of course you’d end up having the terrible luck of being paired with kim jiwoong.

he licks his tongue lightly across his teeth like a predator taunting his prey. you were, for all intents and purposes, fucked.

“while the romantic blocking written in several of these scenes is technically optional,” professor lee says, holding up his hands as if to calm the nervous energy in the room. “it plays an important part in the emotional integrity of the character dynamics. only do what you’re comfortable with, but consider why a stage direction is written and do take it seriously.”

professor lee finishes announcing the rest of the pairings before dismissing you to get to work on your scenes.

“i’m so jealous,” mina whines, stamping her foot cutely as she stands up from her chair. “are you gonna kiss him? if it’s in the scene?”

“KISS HIM!?” you shout, driven by pure shock and disgust. nearly everyone in your class turns to look at you, but you’re too disturbed to care. it was a ridiculous question. there’s no way jiwoong would ever lower himself to kiss you. besides, he’ll be too busy using his mouth to insult you the whole time. 

but mina did raise a good question that you hadn’t fully considered yet. just how romantic would the scene you’re assigned be?

“thinking about me?”

the voice comes from behind you, so close in proximity that it makes you jump. you stumble backwards, your back tapping against a solid surface. 

looking over your shoulder, you recoil at the sight of kim jiwoong hovering over you,  a shaky denial leaving your lips, “i w-wasn’t...”

“explain to me again how you made it into advanced drama with those piss-poor acting skills?” jiwoong huffs, knocking into your shoulder with his as he brushes past you towards the door. when you don’t follow him, he turns around and glares at you expectantly. “did you forget how to walk or something?”

you shake your head silently and run after him out the door. a gap of at least a couple feet forms between you and jiwoong as you struggle to match his determined stride. “um, where are we going?”

“stage. duh,” jiwoong answers plainly, rounding the corner. “if we get there first, we get it all to ourselves and everyone else can fuck off.”

you gulp. you could barely survive jiwoong’s bullying in a crowded room. all alone with jiwoong— no witnesses to keep him at bay… you didn’t like the sound of it.

as you finally reach the side door to the auditorium, jiwoong opens it and lets it swing before you can step inside. it nearly slams into your nose until you catch it with your elbow at the very last second.

“look at you,” jiwoong says with a dark chuckle. “maybe you’re more coordinated than matthew lets on. should we keep testing that theory?”

you inhale deeply, trying your damnedest to not let him get to you yet. you still had thirty-nine long minutes to go. shaking your head in response, you follow him up the stairs and onto the stage. there’s some larger set pieces currently in use in preparation for the winter play; a corner tableau with walls occupies stage right.

jiwoong tosses your script (at your face) and it falls delicately to the ground in front of your feet. “aren’t you gonna pick that up?”

bending down carefully in your short skirt, you pick up your script and flip to the first page of dialogue. your hands are starting to tremble under the pressure of jiwoong’s piercing gaze.

“come here, we can do a cold read first,” he instructs, flipping open his own script. “follow stage directions, but we’ll iron them out later.”

you nod in complacency but stay exactly where you are beside the wall of the corner set— six safe feet away from kim jiwoong.

“seriously?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you incredulously. “scared i’m gonna bite you?”

your lips part slightly at this remark. you hadn’t been scared of this before, but under the circumstances... 

“or maybe you’re scared you’ll bite me,” jiwoong hums smugly. “think you might fall for me during our love scene? that’s almost unbearably pathetic.”

“please just read the script,” you reply quietly, gaze returning to your script. i am unbothered. i am in control of my own destiny, your therapist’s stupid affirmations ring through your head.

jiwoong stares at you for a moment and then, much to your surprise, he obliges. 

you take advantage of this, reading through the script carefully and marking the blocking lightly from your fixed position on the stage. as you recite your lines, your ears burn red at what becomes clear to you: the scene is, for lack of a better word, sexy. juliet is a young virgin who is absolutely taken with the charismatic, handsome romeo. he desperately wants to kiss her and then some and juliet wants the same— though she has to feign that she doesn’t because of female fragility or some other bullshit, antiquated principle.

“if i profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss,” jiwoong reads, your heart dropping to your stomach. he makes an agonizingly convincing romeo: charming, witty... gorgeous.

why was this scene beginning to feel kind of... real?

“good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,” you read your next line softly, attempting to steady your nerves as your script shakes between your fingers. “and palm to palm is holy palmers’… k—... kiss.”

jiwoong feeds off of your hesitation, a dangerous smirk darkening his features. this scene is evoking a visible reaction out of you and he’s as aware of it as you are. setting his script down on the hardwood stage floor, jiwoong recites perfectly, “have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“stop it,” you say through gritted teeth as he unsubtly eyes you up and down. you don’t care if he’s in character or not— he’s just trying to get under your skin. “stop doing that.”

he steps towards you, the air souring from the magnitude of his arrogance. “i don’t think that’s your line, now is it?”

“don’t come any closer,” you warn again, a little more conviction this time but still not enough to stop his perpetual motion. you try to move, but your feet are frozen to the floor. at least, you assume they are. that’s the reason you’re not moving, right?

it has to be.

jiwoong takes another step and then another, the distance between you diminishing rapidly. 

“if you come any closer, i’ll—… i’ll tell professor lee,” you threaten in panic. he’s just a few inches from you now and you can smell his sharp, spiced cologne. “i’ll tell him everything you’ve ever said to me, you absolute... TWAT ROCKET!”

“ooh, i like the creativity. but it’s still not your line,” he whispers, clucking his tongue in disappointment. “shouldn’t you be taking this a little more seriously, (y/n)-sshi? where’s my stick-up-her-ass, goody two-shoes when i need her, hm? do you want us to both fail today’s assignment or something?”

you did not want to fail today’s assignment. jiwoong bullying you through your whole rehearsal wasn’t exactly helping your chances, but there was hardly an available remedy for that. the only way forward was to just try to be the bigger, more professional actor. sighing resignedly, you read your next line: “ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

jiwoong somehow comes closer still, hovering over you like you’re a moth he plans to ensnare in his deadly flame. he raises his hand to your cheek and you flinch, expecting some sort of dull impact. you open your eyes when there is none. when your eyes meet his, jiwoong lifts his index finger— brushing it against your bottom lip as you stand there, unblinking in your shock. “o, then, dear saint... let lips do what hands do.”

he tugs your bottom lip down slightly, running the tip of his thumb gently across the soft, wet inside. you’re screaming inside your head, but not a single sound makes its way out of your mouth. jiwoong has called you names, pulled your hair, left red rashes from twisting the skin on your arms for two years now...

but this is easily the meanest thing he’s ever done.

“they pray, grant thou,” he continues his line, thumb trailing from your lips, past your chin and down your neck. you gasp when he stops at the collar of your shirt, not sure if you’re more disturbed by his audacity to do this or his audacity to suddenly stop. you curse the aching feeling that you now realize has been radiating from your heat since you stepped on this stage. how could your body betray you like this? 

jiwoong exhales a mean laugh as he searches your eyes and easily finds what you’re so poorly trying to hide. maybe you really didn’t belong in advanced drama after all. 

continuing his trail down the center of your chest and over the curve of your stomach, he breathes, “lest faith turn to despair.”

“jiwoongie,” you whisper, eyes locked on his hand just a couple inches from your clothed core. begging for him to stop; begging for him to start— it’s anyone’s guess. “you—... i—...”

“how thick is your skull that i have to keep reminding you to read your fucking line,” he hisses, the harsh insult sounds just like honey to you. his eyes appear almost black, daring you to disobey him.

you want to run away. you need to stay exactly where you are.

“saints—... saints do not move,” you manage to squeak. “though grant for prayers’ sake.”

“then move not,” jiwoong recites, his left hand finding your hip as he presses you up against the set piece behind you, “while my prayer’s effect i take.”

you don’t know how you’re still breathing as jiwoong’s middle and ring fingers find their way under your skirt and between your legs. a whimper escapes you as he finds the sensitive bud, bucking your hips slightly into his hand at the wave of arousal.

“that easy, baby? feel good?” jiwoong asks rhetorically, as if the growing volume of your mewls isn’t enough proof for him. “fuck, i’ve wanted to do this forever.”

“but—...y-you hate me,” you counter, grinding into his fingers again. jiwoong moans softly at your assertiveness, biting his bottom lip as he works you over.

“i don’t know what that has to do with wanting to fuck you,” he replies, attaching his lips to your collarbone as he shoves the damp fabric of your panties to the side. “really wanna fuck you.”

“jiwoongie,” you whine again, script falling from your hand and onto the floor. your arms wrap around his neck for support as your legs start to weaken. “i—… i think you were just supposed to kiss me.”

“huh. is that right?” he asks, grinning at your adorably innocent protest as he takes his hand off your hip and starts to fool with his belt buckle. “well, professor lee always says to lean into the scene. and you looked like you could use some leaning into.”

“i c-can’t believe i’m letting you do this,” you rasp, biting your bottom lip as the top button of jiwoong’s slacks comes undone.

“i can,” he grunts, flipping you around so that your chest is squished against the wall. his gruff hands push up your skirt and knead into your hips and ass as he admires your form. “fucking insufferable little angel. was hoping you’d secretly be a filthy slut. just for me though, right?”

though hearing jiwoong demean you would normally bring tears to your eyes, it’s intoxicating to you in this moment. it’s a scary, complicated feeling and the only truth you know falls from your lips: “i... hate you.”

“mm, whatever you say baby,” he coos mockingly, the sounds of your arousal growing louder and wetter against his fingers. he flips you back over to face him eagerly. “but you want my cock in you, yeah?”

your lips part as you stare at the bulge in his pants, mouth watering slightly. to your surprise and horror, you really do want it. if you let this happen, the consequences you’ll face could be detrimental.

but in this moment, watching a wavy lock of jiwoong’s hair fall across his forehead as his middle finger starts to prod at your entrance: you want him— need him inside you. your brain is clouded; vision lustful and hazy. how much does jiwoong’s past treatment of you really matter?

“(y/n)!” a voice rings out from the house of the auditorium. 

“come fucking on,” jiwoong groans in frustration, your eyes wide like a deer in headlights. somehow it hadn’t even crossed your mind that you might get caught in the act. you start to struggle in jiwoong’s grasp, looking everywhere for a quick exit. he throws a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, shimmying your skirt back back down over your ass with the other. 

“jiwoong-sshi! (y/n)-sshi! time to get ready for performances!”

after running a smoothing hand through your hair for you, jiwoong suddenly pushes you out from behind the set piece you’re pressed up against. you stumble nervously onto center stage.

“oh my god, (y/n)!” mina calls excitedly, running over to you. “how did it go!? where’s jiwoong oppa? did he kiss you? was it amazing? does he taste like smoke and cinnamon? are his lips soft like clouds?”

“mina, that’s enough,” you shush awkwardly, knowing full well jiwoong can hear everything she’s saying— undoubtedly smirking like a wild hyena, that bastard. coming out of your spell of lust, you shudder as the reality of what just happened starts to sink in. how could you let an asshole like him put his hands all over you— almost put himself inside of you? the only answer to all of mina’s questions you can manage is a truthful one: “we didn’t kiss.”

“oh,” mina replies with a small smile, probably happy that there’s still hope for her. “that’s too bad.”

“what’s too bad?” jiwoong asks, stepping out on stage next to you. he hands you your script, tucking his own under his arm. you notice his belt is buckled again. “sorry, i was getting our scripts.”

“nothing!” mina answers much too enthusiastically. “everything’s so, so good actually. now that you’re here. i mean, because professor lee sent me here to find you. and i found you! so everything’s great. perfect, even.”

jiwoong chuckles, turning to you: a malicious glint in his eye. he bites his lip, one corner of his mouth upturning in a mocking smile. then, he turns back to mina before sitting down on the edge of the stage and hopping off. “you know, i really wish we could’ve worked together on this one, mona.”

“it’s mina,” you correct, tears prickling the corners of your eyes. yes, you could see very clearly now. this had all been a sick little game to jiwoong. and you’d fallen right into his trap. he knew you would.

“sure, whatever,” he says, dismissing you with a passive wave of his hand. throwing an arm around mina’s shoulder, jiwoong leads your best friend toward the side door of the auditorium that you’d entered through. “but, like i was saying... i think we’d have a lot of chemistry, muna. maybe you’d like to work more on developing that with me... outside of class?”

the door slams behind them, leaving you standing alone in the spotlight of center stage. your underwear is wet and uncomfortable; your heart races as you blink back tears. of course jiwoong would be cruel enough to use your best friend to deal the final blow.

and, though jiwoong had apparently studied this scene before, you hadn’t even memorized any of your lines. 

yes, you’d let your guard down. but how were you supposed to know that something like that would happen? though jiwoong and his friends often made disparaging sexual remarks towards you, he wasn’t someone you thought would want to act on them. the biggest fear crosses your mind now: would he tell his stupid fucking friends about how much of a desperate whore you’d been for him just now?

mondays, you think. at least jiwoong would be out of your sight for another week after today. you walk to the steps at the side of the stage, following jiwoong and mina’s exit route. 

at least you can hope that tuesday will be better.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

gender neutral version below

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: heavy petting (reader receiving), dub-con kind of sort of idk better safe than sorry, bullying, degrading sexual names.

*also want to say that reader plays juliet in a RANDOMLY ASSIGNED scene during class. other people in the fic are assigned parts that are a different gender than they are. just wanted to mention this just in case it makes anyone uncomfy!!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

“an exciting day today, as always,” professor lee announces from the center of your chair circle.  “we’ll be performing a series of famous two-character scenes in the second half of the class and you’ll have the first half to prepare with your scene partner.” 

all of your classmates begin to whisper loudly. several two-character scenes would undoubtedly include some romance. the thought made your head spin with anxiety.

your best friend mina softly kicks your foot with her’s. you turn to look at her, a stunning grin shining back at you. 

“i hope i get paired with jiwoong oppa,” she says, giggling quietly. 

you scowl. even knowing all the hell that kim jiwoong and his rat bastard friends have caused you this entire year, mina persistently eyes the inconveniently beautiful man with googly eyes through every class. 

curious as to how the man himself is reacting to today’s assignment, you steal a glance in his direction: a terrible mistake. jiwoong is leaned back in his chair, one shoe resting on the opposite knee in a cocky, relaxed position. his hair is pushed neatly behind his ears, fashionable brown slacks and a cream-colored sweater tucked into his belt— arms crossed over his chest. 

skin perfect and glowing under his black, wire-framed glasses. tongue poking at his cheek in an arrogant smile.

staring right at you.

you immediately look back down at your lap, trying your best to appear unbothered by the bait that jiwoong’s hooked for you.

“i’ll be picking names out of this jar to assign parts completely at random and, from there, we’ll just jump right in,” professor lee explains as the chatter comes to a halt. “there’s props and minimal costume pieces in the storage closet at your disposal as usual.”

mina bounces her leg happily beside you, fingers crossed behind her chair for good luck. you shake your head sadly. the thing she’s wishing for is the thing you dread most.

“the first scene will be from bonnie and clyde. caroline-sshi will be reading for bonnie,” professor lee calls as he pulls the first slip of paper out of the jar, followed by the second. “and ichan-sshi will read for clyde.”

there’s a chorus of teasing oooooh’s throughout the room, caroline and ichan shyly waving to each other until your professor holds up his hand for silence. 

“for our second scene, we have an excerpt from medea,” professor lee says, reaching into the glass jar. “the role of medea will be played by… mina-sshi. and the role of jason will be played by…”

mina’s eyes light up at both the meaty assignment and the anticipation of who her scene partner will be.

“yijin-sshi,” he finishes.

the class giggles at the two sweet girls playing such contentious ex-lovers. mina sighs disappointedly and returns her attention to her shoes.

“our third scene will be from romeo and juliet,” professor lee calls, two slips of paper between his fingers. “reading for romeo, we’ll have… jiwoong-sshi.”

nearly everyone gasps in awe at the casting. how fitting of an actor for such a part! how did jiwoong always manage to get assigned the best roles? who will get to read for juliet?

you dare to steal another glimpse at jiwoong. he’s sitting forward now, legs spread apart with his forearms resting on his thighs— focusing on his hands as he waits. you truly feel sorry for the chump that has to spend the next forty minutes alone with him.

“and the role of juliet will be played by… (y/n)-sshi.”

oh for f*ck’s sake. out of 19 possible partners, of course you’d end up having the terrible luck of being paired with kim jiwoong.

he licks his tongue lightly across his teeth like a predator taunting his prey. you were, for all intents and purposes, fucked.

“while the romantic blocking written in several of these scenes is technically optional,” professor lee says, holding up his hands as if to calm the nervous energy in the room. “it plays an important part in the emotional integrity of the character dynamics. only do what you’re comfortable with, but consider why a stage direction is written and do take it seriously.”

professor lee finishes announcing the rest of the pairings before dismissing you to get to work on your scenes.

“i’m so jealous,” mina whines, stamping her foot cutely as she stands up from her chair. “are you gonna kiss him? if it’s in the scene?”

“KISS HIM!?” you shout, driven by pure shock and disgust. nearly everyone in your class turns to look at you, but you’re too disturbed to care. it was a ridiculous question. there’s no way jiwoong would ever lower himself to kiss you. besides, he’ll be too busy using his mouth to insult you the whole time. 

but mina did raise a good question that you hadn’t fully considered yet. just how romantic would the scene you’re assigned be?

“thinking about me?”

the voice comes from behind you, so close in proximity that it makes you jump. you stumble backwards, your back tapping against a solid surface. 

looking over your shoulder, you recoil at the sight of kim jiwoong hovering over you,  a shaky denial leaving your lips, “i w-wasn’t...”

“explain to me again how you made it into advanced drama with those piss-poor acting skills?” jiwoong huffs, knocking into your shoulder with his as he brushes past you towards the door. when you don’t follow him, he turns around and glares at you expectantly. “did you forget how to walk or something?”

you shake your head silently and run after him out the door. a gap of at least a couple feet forms between you and jiwoong as you struggle to match his determined stride. “um, where are we going?”

“stage. duh,” jiwoong answers plainly, rounding the corner. “if we get there first, we get it all to ourselves and everyone else can fuck off.”

you gulp. you could barely survive jiwoong’s bullying in a crowded room. all alone with jiwoong— no witnesses to keep him at bay… you didn’t like the sound of it.

as you finally reach the side door to the auditorium, jiwoong opens it and lets it swing before you can step inside. it nearly slams into your nose until you catch it with your elbow at the very last second.

“look at you,” jiwoong says with a dark chuckle. “maybe you’re more coordinated than matthew lets on. should we keep testing that theory?”

you inhale deeply, trying your damnedest to not let him get to you yet. you still had thirty-nine long minutes to go. shaking your head in response, you follow him up the stairs and onto the stage. there’s some larger set pieces currently in use in preparation for the winter play; a corner tableau with walls occupies stage right.

jiwoong tosses your script (at your face) and it falls delicately to the ground in front of your feet. “aren’t you gonna pick that up?”

bending down carefully, you pick up your script and flip to the first page of dialogue. your hands are starting to tremble under the pressure of jiwoong’s piercing gaze.

“come here, we can do a cold read first,” he instructs, flipping open his own script. “follow stage directions, but we’ll iron them out later.”

you nod in complacency but stay exactly where you are beside the wall of the corner set— six safe feet away from kim jiwoong.

“seriously?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you incredulously. “scared i’m gonna bite you?”

your lips part slightly at this remark. you hadn’t been scared of this before, but under the circumstances... 

“or maybe you’re scared you’ll bite me,” jiwoong hums smugly. “think you might fall for me during our love scene? that’s almost unbearably pathetic.”

“please just read the script,” you reply quietly, gaze returning to your script. i am unbothered. i am in control of my own destiny, your therapist’s stupid affirmations ring through your head.

jiwoong stares at you for a moment and then, much to your surprise, he obliges. 

you take advantage of this, reading through the script carefully and marking the blocking lightly from your fixed position on the stage. as you recite your lines, your ears burn red at what becomes clear to you: the scene is, for lack of a better word, sexy. juliet is a young virgin who is absolutely taken with the charismatic, handsome romeo. he desperately wants to kiss her and then some and juliet wants the same— though she has to feign that she doesn’t because of female fragility or some other bullshit, antiquated principle.

“if i profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss,” jiwoong reads, your heart dropping to your stomach. he makes an agonizingly convincing romeo: charming, witty... gorgeous.

why was this scene beginning to feel kind of... real?

“good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,” you read your next line softly, attempting to steady your nerves as your script shakes between your fingers. “and palm to palm is holy palmers’… k—... kiss.”

jiwoong feeds off of your hesitation, a dangerous smirk darkening his features. this scene is evoking a visible reaction out of you and he’s as aware of it as you are. setting his script down on the hardwood stage floor, jiwoong recites perfectly, “have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“stop it,” you say through gritted teeth as he unsubtly eyes you up and down. you don’t care if he’s in character or not— he’s just trying to get under your skin. “stop doing that.”

he steps towards you, the air souring from the magnitude of his arrogance. “i don’t think that’s your line, now is it?”

“don’t come any closer,” you warn again, a little more conviction this time but still not enough to stop his perpetual motion. you try to move, but your feet are frozen to the floor. at least, you assume they are. that’s the reason you’re not moving, right?

it has to be.

jiwoong takes another step and then another, the distance between you diminishing rapidly. 

“if you come any closer, i’ll—… i’ll tell professor lee,” you threaten in panic. he’s just a few inches from you now and you can smell his sharp, spiced cologne. “i’ll tell him everything you’ve ever said to me, you absolute... TWAT ROCKET!”

“ooh, i like the creativity. but it’s still not your line,” he whispers, clucking his tongue in disappointment. “shouldn’t you be taking this a little more seriously, (y/n)-sshi? do you want us to both fail today’s assignment or something?”

you did not want to fail today’s assignment. jiwoong bullying you through your whole rehearsal wasn’t exactly helping your chances, but there was hardly an available remedy for that. the only way forward was to just try to be the bigger, more professional actor. sighing resignedly, you read your next line: “ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

jiwoong somehow comes closer still, hovering over you like you’re a moth he plans to ensnare in his deadly flame. he raises his hand to your cheek and you flinch, expecting some sort of dull impact. you open your eyes when there is none. when your eyes meet his, jiwoong lifts his index finger— brushing it against your bottom lip as you stand there, unblinking in your shock. “o, then, dear saint... let lips do what hands do.”

he tugs your bottom lip down slightly, running the tip of his thumb gently across the soft, wet inside. you’re screaming inside your head, but not a single sound makes its way out of your mouth. jiwoong has called you names, pulled your hair, left red rashes from twisting the skin on your arms for two years now...

but this is easily the meanest thing he’s ever done.

“they pray, grant thou,” he continues his line, thumb trailing from your lips, past your chin and down your neck. you gasp when he stops at the collar of your shirt, not sure if you’re more disturbed by his audacity to do this or his audacity to suddenly stop. you curse the aching feeling that you now realize has been radiating from your heat since you stepped on this stage. how could your body betray you like this? 

jiwoong exhales a mean laugh as he searches your eyes and easily finds what you’re so poorly trying to hide. maybe you really didn’t belong in advanced drama after all. 

continuing his trail down the center of your chest and over your stomach, he breathes, “lest faith turn to despair.”

“jiwoongie,” you whisper, eyes locked on his hand just a couple inches from your clothed core. begging for him to stop; begging for him to start— it’s anyone’s guess. “you—... i—...”

“how thick is your skull that i have to keep reminding you to read your fucking line,” he hisses, the harsh insult sounds just like honey to you. his eyes appear almost black, daring you to disobey him.

you want to run away. you need to stay exactly where you are.

“saints—... saints do not move,” you manage to squeak. “though grant for prayers’ sake.”

“then move not,” jiwoong recites, his left hand finding your hip as he presses you up against the set piece behind you, “while my prayer’s effect i take.”

you don’t know how you’re still breathing as jiwoong’s hand finds it’s way between your legs. a whimper escapes you as you buck your hips slightly into his palm at the wave of arousal.

“that easy, baby? feel good?” jiwoong asks rhetorically, as if the growing volume of your mewls isn’t enough proof for him. “fuck, i’ve wanted to do this forever.”

“but—...y-you hate me,” you counter, grinding against his fingers again. jiwoong moans softly at your assertiveness, biting his bottom lip as he works you over.

“i don’t know what that has to do with wanting to fuck you,” he replies, attaching his lips to your collarbone as he starts to tug at your waistband. “really wanna fuck you.”

“jiwoongie,” you whine again, script falling from your hand and onto the floor. your arms wrap around his neck for support as your legs start to weaken. “i—… i think you were just supposed to kiss me.”

“huh. is that right?” he asks, grinning at your adorably innocent protest as he brings his left hand to fool with his belt buckle. “well, professor lee always says to lean into the scene. and you looked like you could use some leaning into.”

“i c-can’t believe i’m letting you do this,” you rasp, biting your bottom lip as the top button of jiwoong’s slacks comes undone.

“i can,” he grunts, gruff fingers pulling down his zipper. “fucking insufferable angel. was hoping you’d secretly be filthy like this. just for me though, right?”

though hearing jiwoong demean you would normally bring tears to your eyes, it’s intoxicating to you in this moment. it’s a scary, complicated feeling and the only truth you know falls from your lips: “i... hate you.”

“mm, whatever you say baby,” he coos mockingly, the sound of your moaning growing less concealable. “but you want my cock in you, yeah?”

your lips part as you stare at the bulge in his pants, mouth watering slightly. to your surprise and horror, you really do want it. if you let this happen, the consequences you’ll face could be detrimental.

but in this moment, watching a wavy lock of jiwoong’s hair fall across his forehead as his middle finger starts to prod at your entrance: you want him— need him inside you. your brain is clouded; vision lustful and hazy. how much does jiwoong’s past treatment of you really matter?

“(y/n)!” a voice rings out from the house of the auditorium. 

“come fucking on,” jiwoong groans in frustration, your eyes wide like a deer in headlights. somehow it hadn’t even crossed your mind that you might get caught in the act. you start to struggle in jiwoong’s grasp, looking everywhere for a quick exit. he throws a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“jiwoong-sshi! (y/n)-sshi! time to get ready for performances!”

after running a smoothing hand across the top of your head for you, jiwoong suddenly pushes you out from behind the set piece you’re pressed up against. you stumble nervously onto center stage.

“oh my god, (y/n)!” mina calls excitedly, running over to you. “how did it go!? where’s jiwoong oppa? did he kiss you? was it amazing? does he taste like smoke and cinnamon? are his lips soft like clouds?”

“mina, that’s enough,” you shush awkwardly, knowing full well jiwoong can hear everything she’s saying— undoubtedly smirking like a wild hyena, that bastard. coming out of your spell of lust, you shudder as the reality of what just happened starts to sink in. how could you let an asshole like him put his hands all over you— almost put himself inside of you? the only answer to all of mina’s questions you can manage is a truthful one: “we didn’t kiss.”

“oh,” mina replies with a small smile, probably happy that there’s still hope for her. “that’s too bad.”

“what’s too bad?” jiwoong asks, stepping out on stage next to you. he hands you your script, tucking his own under his arm. you notice his belt is buckled again. “sorry, i was getting our scripts.”

“nothing!” mina answers much too enthusiastically. “everything’s so, so good actually. now that you’re here. i mean, because professor lee sent me here to find you. and i found you! so everything’s great. perfect, even.”

jiwoong chuckles, turning to you: a malicious glint in his eye. he bites his lip, one corner of his mouth upturning in a mocking smile. then, he turns back to mina before sitting down on the edge of the stage and hopping off. “you know, i really wish we could’ve worked together on this one, mona.”

“it’s mina,” you correct, tears prickling the corners of your eyes. yes, you could see very clearly now. this had all been a sick little game to jiwoong. and you’d fallen right into his trap. he knew you would.

“sure, whatever,” he says, dismissing you with a passive wave of his hand. throwing an arm around mina’s shoulder, jiwoong leads your best friend toward the side door of the auditorium that you’d entered through. “but, like i was saying... i think we’d have a lot of chemistry, muna. maybe you’d like to work more on developing that with me... outside of class?”

the door slams behind them, leaving you standing alone in the spotlight of center stage. your underwear is wet and uncomfortable; your heart races as you blink back tears. of course jiwoong would be cruel enough to use your best friend to deal the final blow.

and, though jiwoong had apparently studied this scene before, you hadn’t even memorized any of your lines. 

yes, you’d let your guard down. but how were you supposed to know that something like that would happen? though jiwoong and his friends often made disparaging sexual remarks towards you, he wasn’t someone you thought would want to act on them. the biggest fear crosses your mind now: would he tell his stupid fucking friends about how much of a desperate whore you’d been for him just now?

mondays, you think. at least jiwoong would be out of your sight for another week after today. you walk to the steps at the side of the stage, following jiwoong and mina’s exit route. 

at least you can hope that tuesday will be better.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

[cielles-random-vault]

brain empty just thoughts full of miguel having a soft spot for you and hobie's relationship

like if you were in different dimensions hobie would beg for miguel to let him visit you.

and if you were in the same dimension he would beg miguel to send him on missions with you

wait now i want to make it a lil fic

kind of a drabble? idk

ok afterthought this is way longer than a drabble lmao mb

word count : 561 😭

it was a peaceful day at the spidersociety's headquarters. all the anomalies you and hobie have caught while patrolling were imprisoned in their cages, you did your daily patrolling chores and now boredom seemed to have gotten the best of you.

sometimes when you're bored, you wonder what your boyfriend was doing. well, factually speaking he was not quite your boyfriend, because of his "i hate labels" stuff, but it was most likely the two of you had something

sadly you spent most of your time wondering how he was going. you couldn't communicate because your communicator broke and miguel decided hobie had to give his to you.

you know what? fuck that hierarchy thing, just because some vampire spider man didn't want you to multi dimensional travel doesn't mean you wouldn't.

you then left your small apartment and headed to the headquarters.

"don't even think of it." firmly said miguel.

"what? i didn't even say anything yet-" you say.

"your backpack. it's the one you always bring with you when i send you in missions with hobie. considering the disaster it made when i left gwen visit miles last time, i am not letting this happen a second time." he said firmly.

"please." you try to beg. "it has been weeks since you last sent us on a mission together. plus it's soon our birthday and we celebrate all of them together. please? i promise you won't hear anything from me next."

"fine" he sighed, "but only for three days."

"four days? please?" you try to negotiate.

(i don't know how to describe it but imagine him pinching his nose yknow the thing he did In the movie)

"if i let you go, will you stop harassing me ?" he asked, visibly annoyed.

"pinky promise!" you exclaim, "thank you so much!"

he then opened a portal which led you to your boyfriend's dimension. you walked a bit to the bar where he probably was, as usual.

once you arrived, riri, one of hobie's best friend, warmly greeted you.

"glad to see you around!" she says with a warm smile. "if you're here to see hobie, he's in the back!."

you then headed to the room in the back of the building. you did find him practicing with his band. taking care to not disturb them, you sat on a small table in the back of the room.

you couldn't help but admire him. despite everything he went through, he always kept going.

"hobes", said a member of the group."i think someone's waiting for you."

as soon as he noticed your face, you could see his instantly lit up.

once his practice went all smooth, the two of you headed outside. a fresh breeze greeted you as the two of you tried to catch up on the lost time.

"i can't believe miguel let you come there" he says in disbelief. "i ain't complaining though, i missed my sunshine a whole bunch" he continues before kissing you.

"i missed you too, hobie," you murmur with a soft smile.

the two of you kept wandering in the streets, talking about random things.

"you down for cuddles, sunshine?" he asked as you came back home.

the two of you sat on the floor, your head on his chest, feeling his soft heartbeat.

eventually you both drifted to sleep, his hand playing with your hair.

yoooo 🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻 call me the ceo of ooc hobie atp x)

uhhh yea sorry the end is a bit rushed but 😭😭 also im in an agsty mood so i'll write smth when reader finds out hobie is cheating on them when they come to his dimension 😈😈

ALSO if you want some sleepy hobie hcs you can find them here ! :D

[missmyloko]

Hi! Lately, I have been very interested in Maiko/ Geiko and Yujō/Oiran/Tayū culture, their differences, but the most popular known books, documentaries have so many lies and discrepancies. I hope you might know some answers.

I don’t know if you read “Autobiography of a geisha” by Masuda Sayo, but she described her life as a hot-springs geisha during W2. While she learned “gei” (art), what happened to her was truly not different from prostitution. She was given different points after sleeping with men depending whether he was her danna, someone else’s danna or just a random guy.

There is this whole thing about American soldiers thinking “geisha” meant “prostitute”, bc some of the prostitutes decided to dress as geisha to attract more customers, I suppose?

Then, what Americans thought wasn’t exactly wrong (if we are not looking at Kyoto or Osaka)? Or was Masuda Sayo just a prostitute and she herself didn’t even know about it?

Are geisha outside of major districts (idk how to call them, Ponchoto, Gion Kobu etc) not considered geisha? Were times just so difficult that geisha had to resolve to prostitution under a banner of love instead of money, so it doesn’t make it illegal? Did Masuda just lie?

Masuda Sayo wrote the book herself in freaking Kanji, I believe her more than what “foreigners”, who only lived in geisha district for a couple of months, managed to understand. And Mineko Iwasaki was a queen among the geisha of completely different time period. I am more curious about how life was for “third rate” geisha.

I guess I am just somewhat confused about the statement that “Geisha are not prostitutes”, while there is an account that poor country girls sold in shitty okiyas were in fact as good as prostitutes.

In specific areas of Japan there used to be "double registered" geisha; that is, they were registered by the government to work as both geisha and as prostitutes. However, there were areas that worked under these double registration rules but didn't have official registration, so pretty much anything went. Sayo Masuda worked in one of those areas. These areas were often in small seaside towns or resort villages, which lead to onsen geisha having a tainted name that endures to this day. What they considered a geisha may as well have been night and day from what was going on in the large cities that had proper geisha associations that actually looked out for their members. This isn't to say that districts like Gion Kobu or Pontocho were perfect as at the time that Masuda was active young girls were still being sold into the karyukai across the country. So, where geisha populations were large and in larger cities they were primarily just geisha who, by government law, could not engage in prostitution. However, in small towns and villages, those who were identifying themselves as geisha also often took part in prostitution on the side as it was sadly a way for them to "serve" their customers. Sayo Masuda also wrote her autobiography in hiragana, not kanji, as she couldn't read or write kanji since she never had a formal education. American GIs brought back stories of "geesha girls" due to women who were not geisha but used one of the only Japanese words that they knew to have sex with for money in order to survive after the war. The Americans had no idea what a real geisha looked like and the karyukai didn't reopen (if they weren't bombed to shreds) until 1947. So, there were two years of regular women calling themselves geisha having sex with GIs that really didn't help with the Western perspective of geisha. By the time that Mineko Iwasaki came along, which was decades after Masuda was active and the Americans had mostly pulled out of Japan, prostitution had been made illegal across the country, so no double registered geisha existed anymore and no geisha anywhere were supposed to be having sex on the side for money (sex on the side is fine as long as it's consensual between two adults and no money is being exchanged though). Since geisha are incredibly exclusive for the most part, it's far cheaper and easier to hire a call girl or a hostess if someone wants to have illegal sex in Japan (it would be naïve to say that it doesn't happen even though it's illegal). So, were there different "levels" of geisha when Sayo Masuda was active? Of course. Was she lying? I don't believe so. Her story is extremely compelling and detailed to the point where it would be hard to be made up. Were the lines blurred on what was a "geisha" prior to World War II? Depending on where you were, yes. Has the karyukai changed drastically since that time? Very much so. Is there still work to be done when it comes to how geisha are perceived both inside and outside of Japan? Indeed, there's quite a great deal. But, we all have to start somewhere and I hope that this has helped to answer your questions ^^

[salemcantupdate]

Ok making a post here about my theory on Viago and Teia’s ages in Veilguard because I’m insane and a friend asked me what I thought it was

First, I believe Teia is 36 and Viago is 40-45

Now for the arguments

Teia is first because it’s way easier. Teia is the youngest talon on record, being 28 in 9:44 dragon. Bam, age solved. She was born in 9:16 Dragon. (Look to Dragon Age: Deception which takes place in 9:44)

Now to solve Viago, which is way way harder because we don’t have much of anything solid. Excuse my insanity.

Because nekm knows an absurd amount of lore, I am referencing @/dalishious guess for how long Viago has been a talon for (nekm said 10-15 years)

(Quick note, I am trying to use the pronoun “nekm” that nekm has in nekms bio, however if I am using it inappropriately, or me using it in the first place is inappropriate, please let me know. I tried doing research on it, but I can be dumb so I could still be using it wrong)

Which is a great basis! But I wanted to narrow it down further. So, knowing he is the son of Fulgeno II and joined the crows when he became king, I tried to see what year Fulgeno became king. Sadly, the dragon age wiki only says he is confirmed to be reigning in 9:41. This did not help me even a little bit.

So! I thought, ok, what if Fulgeno is the King that hired Zevran (ok he hired three crow cells, one of which Zevran happened to be in, but just saying Zevran is more amusing) to kill Prince Azran? So I did research to see when that occurred. Sadly, the assassination on Azran occurred in 9:26, and King Natale is known to be reigning in 9:28. I am a failure.

Or so I thought. See, Zevran, when speaking of the job, describes the King as though he is still ruling. Which means Natale is king in 9:30. Thus, at the earliest, Fulgeno could have become king in 9:31 Dragon.

I choose to work with this time, as it works well with him being anywhere between 40-45 (though works better with him being younger). I also decided that when Viago became a Talon, he was likely 30 or so. Mostly because Teia being the youngest at 28 is notable, I think it would be less notable if he were 29 when he became Talon. 2 years difference still feels weird, but 30 is far more reasonable. This is also me trying to work with an average, as 30 would be the youngest and 35 the oldest (matching with my theory of 40-45, but it can easily be swapped and switched etc etc)

Thus, if Viago has been talon for 15 years (max of nekms guess), it would be 9:37 dragon. If he is 30 at this time, and Fulgeno became King in 9:31, this would have given him 6 years of being in the crowd beforehand. Reasonable! Not the most, not my favorite. But still. Now, going this route, I’d say he must be 30 in 9:37 dragon, mostly because that places him joining the crows at 24. Which… idk, feels a bit absurd that the crows would accept someone so old. It’s really pushing it in my mind. Nonetheless, in this case he would be born in 9:07 Dragon.

Talon for 10 years works better in this, as it would make him talon in 9:42, thus giving him 11 years of being in the Crows, and joining them at age 19 and being born 9:12 Dragon.

Of course, there’s the whole range between 9:07 and 9:12 for him to be born, and all work.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Sense and Sensibility (2024, Hallmark) a review

I had expectations for this movie. They were not surpassed. It didn't perform below them either.

Spoilers under the cut.

So, this is a short movie (1.24hr long) a tv movie, a hallmark movie. You must keep that in mind as a frame of reference for what I'm about to say. You cannot really compare this with theatrical movies on equal footing.

Where to start. Costumes and sets. It is Bridgerton's world and we live in it. Everything is VERY colorful and shiny and not very real looking; that was to be expected. I think that sort of semi-fantasy aspect didn't hurt at all, and it was consistent. If you are not going to stick to the time period, at least go ham and show me something really interesting. I'm looking at you, Netflix Persuasion. There are some dresses that are pretty, and some others that... aren't. Considering that apparently the costume designer had to make something like 60 pieces in a month, it's kind of impressive that it came out as it did.

One funny bit, though, in this respect, is that they complain about how small the cottage is like some actual estate houses aren't the same size IRL XD Allenham we only get to see from afar, and it is rather disappointing.

Music: nothing to write home about, to be expected. Yes, we got one of those Vitamin String Quartet modern-song-played-by-strings. IDK. They were a bit dorky in their heyday, I don't know why they are so sought after in these pieces lately. I digress.

The acting. Deborah Ayorinde was a really good Elinor. She definitely deserved better writing and direction. The rest of the cast was good enough; I feel some roles really benefited from their characters being a bit hammy already in the source material (Lucy, Mrs Jennings, Anne, Fanny, Robert), others were really struggling because of being given very poor dialogue (Mrs Dashwood), and others were just... not good (Willoughby and Brandon, sadly). Edward was... a very special case. I can only describe it as the actor having two expressions: one, an attempt at reaching Hugh Grant's adorkableness AND Dan Stevens' ease at the same time, and two [SCREAMING INTERNALLY], but I guess those two were indeed enough to make it work just fine!

Which leads me to the writing. We all knew this adaptation was going to live or die in the writing, and most likely die.

The thing is that most of it is written around repeating 95' and 08's greatest hits, while attempting to compress the narrative into an hour and a half. And that goes as well as you can expect it to. Some scenes are painfully rushed -Brandon's backstory was extremely awkward to get through- some things are over before you have any time to assess their real weight -Marianne's illness, and many others end up being... incongruous.

Let me stop a little on those. The movie keeps Margaret, and gives her the whole play acting as a pirate with Edward from 95', but then removes the only real plot relevant thing she does in the book. So why keep the character at all? (Willoughby asks for Marianne's handkerchief in exchange for Queen Maab, instead of cutting a lock of her hair).

Because 2008 makes Brandon suspicious of Willoughby from the get go, this one makes it so that they know each other and implies that Brandon knows dirt on Willoughby, but then plays the rest of the story straight, which makes it... pretty inconsistent.

Speaking of Brandon, we have reached adaptation #5 that cuts out the fact that he tried to elope with Eliza sr. This time the backstory is that his father promised to let him marry Eliza if he proved himself as a soldier, but when he came back, he found his father has kicked her out of the house. Yeah, that was utter nonsense.

The adaptation makes a clumsy attempt at including the dinner at Mrs Ferrars... but Brandon isn't there to see Marianne defend Elinor.

We needed to have a "Brandon rescues Marianne in the rain" scene, but in this case, she's not faint or anything, he just grabs her because she's sad XD

And the list goes on and on and on. It was to be expected that the shadow of both 95 and 08 would be large over this one, but it truly is to the point that the references and contrivances are almost constant. Which is a pity because I think most of the original choices were interesting.

For example, Marianne twists her ankle running after Margaret, to try and stop her from asking something embarrassing, which is a good choice in terms of showing that Marianne is passionate, but she has more sense than Margaret.

On his deathbed, Mr Dashwood makes Elinor promise that she will take care of her mom and sisters and keep the family together. That added pressure on Elinor works really well in the context of the adaptation, and ads a new layer of interest.

John Dashwood is written mostly as a hapless but not malicious idiot. This is similar to what From Prada to Nada did (though there it made more sense because of the father having two families simultaneously), but I'm not sure where was that going. They did cut the Palmers, so I suppose the choice was so that they could go to Norland instead on their way to Barton (it is never established that Norland is so far away as it is in the book, so I guess one could give it a pass), but in that case, I feel the most cost effective shortcut is... have them go to Barton? Because we do get to see Barton (Marianne goes alone with Brandon to see it close to the end, and they get engaged before Edward returns, don't think much about it, manners and such are... for this movie... loose guidelines. But it isn't super offensive most of the time).

Anne Steele is decent fun as she's supposed to be, but Lucy really suffers the flattening. The mastermind has been flanderized into just a mean girl, and that's a pity.

Oh, Edward is sassy at times! And the sassy jokes land! I have to say it is not my preferred way of doing the character, but he does show some sass at the end of the novel, so, you know, I'll allow it I suppose XD

Edward's return and proposal started pretty good, but it overstayed its welcome. I cannot emphasize enough that, when writing this kind of proposal, you must avoid the word love if you can, and if you must use it, use it once, and with great reluctance.

The movie chooses to dedicate quite a time to the reveal of Edward and Lucy's relationship, and it's honestly... decent? For a scene made out of whole cloth it stands on its own feet reasonably well. But there's no Fanny freakout. This is probably the most shocking plot twist in the adaptation. This very on-the-nose Hallmark adaptation decided to cut the Fanny freakout of all things. Impressive restraint.

One thing, however, that was sadly cut out was Elinor and Marianne's conversation about Willoughby at Barton. It is instead replaced by an unsubtle comparison between Willoughby and Edward, and an exchange between Brandon and Marianne. It is one of the several points where the storytelling relies on previous knowledge of the work.

These are my main, disordered thoughts. I leave you with this choice from the ending, that I cannot form a thought about:

At Elinor and Edward's wedding, on the first pew are in attendance, from center to side: Mrs Dashwood, Margaret, Marianne, colonel Brandon... and Eliza Williams with her baby in her arms.

As a summary, I'd say Elinor and Edward's story was good enough, the relationship between the sisters was sweet, there were some odd choices, some interesting choices, and overall the writing was severely downgraded by attempting so much to stick to the choices of previous famous adaptations.

[katasstrophy]

I feel like I've seen every Bluelock boy paired with a very cute, very bubbly, and chill gf/reader before, but I haven't seen any of them paired with a cool and competent or even bossier type. Are there any guys you think of liking that type??? Or maybe just deserve that type to be kept in line lmao 🤣

nonnie!! 😳 NONNIE UR BRAIN I’M GIVING IT A THOUSAND KISSES UR SOOO RIGHT FOR THIS!!! i guess it doesn’t really show with the fics i’ve uploaded so far – which is a damn shame, i should fix that – but i am absolutely all for readers who are just… out there, ya know? they’re prickly, or easy to anger, or sardonic as all hell, or way too clever for their own good or yes yes, bossy<3 i eat that shit UP like it’s my last meal. this is not to say i don’t enjoy sweet, bubbly readers (bc i do!) but the type you describe just… scratches a certain itch iykwim 👁️👁️

i think one of my first posts ever about blue lock on this blog (cw. mid writing LMAO) was exactly about this. obviously most of the blue lock guys are only extreme egoists when they’re playing soccer, but i do think that aspect of their lives will ultimately start to bleed into their personality as they grow up/go pro. so having someone who’s just like “yeah that’s great and all but if you won’t make it to date night i’ll leave your sorry ass” is just. so sexy to them like?? they haven’t gotten their ego knocked down a peg in a while so i think they’d be drawn to a partner like that askdhxnbz idk if i’m explaining this very well but as far as i’m concerned all blue lock boys deserve an unhinged reader lol 😤

THAT BEING SAID!!! >:))) i have a top three list of blue lock men who i, personally, would love to put in their place and encourage anyone out there to do so as well LOL

1. MICHAEL KAISER — this cocky motherfucker ugh need i say more 🙄 the urge to censor his name was real strong but i persevered still cannot believe i’m (sadly) attracted to this horrible, horrible man. he’s sooo insufferable and just so obsessed with himself like he unironically refers to himself as the emperor when i tell you there’s nothing i want more than to make this man beg on his knees i mean it – what a pretty sight that would be hm? <3 all his past lovers probably treated him like he was god’s greatest gift to women (HE IS NOT) – and by now he’s not only used to it but comes to expect it – so when he meets you and you’re like “mm you’re kind of a prick leave me alone thenk yew✨✨” he’s just. so scandalized LMFAO suddenly he’s the one chasing after you and vying for a shred of your attention oooohh yes that’s exactly what he deserves how it should be

2. ITOSHI SAE — listen he might be my precious babygirl now but i used to hate this mans guts like no other and that little resentment still lives on in my heart in the form of wanting this man’s downfall to be a woman like don’t tell me that’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. he’s just so single-mindedly focused on soccer – japan’s treasure and what not – and thinks he can get away with being an asshole because of it but you place down your foot and tell him to cut the bullshit or you’ll find someone who treats you better (AMEN SISTER) and suddenly he’s grappling with the reality that shit he might just fall apart without you yes girl make him suffer

3. OLIVER AIKU — i couldn’t not include the resident fuckboy here mmmm the possibilities for him are endless and each one more delicious than the last. he might not be as insufferable as the others but he still thinks extremely highly of himself, especially when it comes to his way with the ladies. typical “oh no i don’t do relationships” kinda guy who can show you a good time for a night before dipping in the morning – and you just don’t want that. so you reject his advances, say you’re not interested and move on, but for some reason, oliver can’t. literally physically wounds his pride when he crawls back for a second chance but you don’t budge, still wary of him due to his past behavior unless he can show you otherwise. and the way he scrambles to prove himself as trustworthy to you? god tier groveling from a man YUMM

[reborn--maggot]

ok it was on tiktok and i thought it was partially in English but um. no that's just me being bad with languages again <3 entirely in Yiddish and like. he gets it

flipping through every available version of if i were a rich man trying to find a specific guy that sings it so so well and i am NOT finding it :(((

[buttercupbread06]

HELLOOOO HIIII sorrysorry, idk how this works exactly but uhhhhh yea <:3

1) Does ur OC have a voice claim? If so who? [any]

3) What song describes your OC? [any]

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! it's on sight when they see them! [any (but curious abt Michele)]

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it? [either Gonzalo, Michele or Adri]

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice? [any, curious on Mika tho 👀]

27) What's their spirit tamagochi? or an animal you associate them with [any (although I have an idea of most of them dkxndkfn)]

29)Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!) (not necessary, just sillying rn)

hii thanks for writing the questions i love you

1). Gonzalo kinda sounds like the singer in Dance With Me (Topline Addicts), but only that song in specific for some reason?? Michele sounds like Snufkin in the English dub (I dont even watch Moominvalley, I just saw a clip once and thought "yeah that's my daughter"). I haven't found Mika's exact voice irl yet, sadly.

3). Gonzalo is very Sucede/Desarraigo (by Extremoduro) coded, but I'd like to mention Everything She Wants (Wham!), High and Dry (Radiohead) and Lágrimas Desordenadas (Melendi). Very father of him for the most part, I like to think. He also likes all of those, by the way, Extremoduro and Radiohead are his favorite bands (GOD HE'S LIKE ME FR)

Mika depends on the time of his life, honestly, but I relate Using You (Mars Argo) and Cynical One (TV Girl) to him. There's more, though, I just don't want to yap too much.

Extra: The Mind Electric (Miracle Musical) for Michele, Califórnica (La Gusana Ciega) for Adriana, and basically anything sung by Betty Hutton could be Becky's :33

14). I'm going to be very honest, DMC doesn't have enough characters for Michele to hate someone. However, she IS bitter about Fortuna as a whole because no one even tried to protect them as a child. Sure, it was supposed to be a secret, but giving him away that easily and never wondering where the kid went is... Interesting.

Adri hates Kimball AND Caesar, as she should, but that could apply to basically any Legion dude/NCR soldier. I don't think I've ever told you this, but Mika has beef with Leo's parents especially after Leo actually gets famous (basically because they didn't support their son enough and he was there to see it, and because I believe they'd be fake about it years after and Mika just wants to strangle them with a coat hanger) (he keeps it to himself but he calls his mom to talk 40 minutes worth of shit right after they leave lmao).

20). Michele has a sword (canon), Gonzalo technically owns a glock 22 because he's a cop but to me his canon weapon is his stupid little revolver in FNV, Becky likes energy weapons, Adri prefers dynamite and Mika doesn't fight or kill people but if he did he'd get an AK-47, I'm sorry.

27). I just looked through every single Tamagotchi thingy and I've decided to go with animals. Mika: Weasel

Gonzalo: St. Bernard dog

Michele: Something between a barn owl and a dove

Becky: Milksnake

Adriana: Either a coyote or a Mexican pink tarantula (it's not even pink wtf :c)

29). I'm not doing that right now but I might reblog this post with stuff I found on Pinterest/pictures I took that remind me of them.

[theyellowstar]

Hi everyone here's my secret boss yaayyy (I'm totally not writing this on the last day)

*anyways,* meet scruffy!

yup, I told you the inspiration would be weird. scruffy is my chapter 5 secret boss for my take for the holiday Mansion dark world, and if you couldn't already tell: yes, he's based on that one hello kitty character (cinnamoroll)

his character, design and aesthetic choices are based a lot off of cinammoroll/sanrio in general.

his Item in the light world is - well, a cinnamoroll plush. or at least, the deltarune universe equivalent of that.

his speech quirk is meant to feel childlike/cute and innocent, although I'm not sure exactly what it would look like. it's a work in progress, mmk? <3

his soul mode is CYAN, but we'll get to that later...

Scruffy is teased in chapter three a couple times. My take has a very small area based off of kids shows, and the miniboss/minigames is based off of a comically obvious hello kitty parody. after you beat the minibosses (based off hello kitty, melody and kuromi respectively) they will open a shop, where they briefly mention how there was supposed to be a fourth member of the show...

scruffy is also teased by a cardboard cutout advert in the cooking district.

scruffy's dark world is the HOLIDAY WORLD, with the fountain being opened in the holiday mansion (aka the mayor/noelles house) I would love to talk about that dark world more sometime, but the general vibe it has is a "late night city in december" feel to it. anyways, scruffy can first be found at the waterfront, an area of the city overlooking the river. he then gets very attached to pretty much everyone, since he's so lonely. he assists you ever now and than In the chapter, opening up a shop and generally just keeping you company.

the secret boss fight:

Scruffy's fight is basically him having a massive panic attack. he realizes that you're going to seal the fountain and dosen't want to be alone again. when you reach the ice palace and are approaching the fountain, scruffy snaps and uses his magic to break the ice palace into two, preventing you from going further. the ice the party stands on starts floating away into the river, and the battle starts. (or something like that idk)

As I mentioned earlier, scruffys soul mode is CYAN. I'll be honest here: I based the Mechanic off of the mad mew mew fight but vision crew did that first. so it's basically the exact same soul mechanic as the cyan soul in vcdr. the heart splits into two halves and you are locked in a grid, but can move the halves of the soul horizontally and diagonally- kinda like a rythm game! think ddr

as for attacks, I have some very vague ideas, so I'll spitball them here. why not

cloud:

a raincloud with a sad scruffy face on it. it will rain down tears the player must avoid to not take damage.

floating hearts: hearts appear below the battle box and float upwards.

star wand: scruffy uses a star wand to call down stars at the soul.

plane: a plane bullet that will occasionally fly through the battle box

head bobbing attack: idk really how to describe this one, not sure what the pulled pattern would be but the "head bobbing" is simillar to that one attack from the uty flowey fight

SECRET BOSS THEME:

while I sadly am not a composer, scruffys boss theme would be pretty unique compared to other sb themes. It would highly be inspired by breakcore/vocaloid/ music, I actually made a playlist of the three songs that inspired me the most! check it out if you want

Listen to ch5 secret boss theme inspiration, a playlist by Theyellowstar2009 on #SoundCloud https://on.soundcloud.com/62Jvg

And that's about all I can show rn. I wish I could talk about his gaster trauma backstory and other stuff, but I'm already basically out of time. so that's all for now, byeeeeee

[st4rfckerz]

Wtf, what are my dreams?

I had the weirdest dream of Hayden in an interview, the year was 2017, (I can’t remember what movie the interview was for, but he was wearing his outfit from the American Heist premiere day, which was in 2014, but then had the haircut from the jumper film, which was filmed 2006?? Idk.)

It was the most questionable interview ever. So he had to get in the shower. Everything was off apart from his boxers and that pea coat (ew?) and the interviewer asked him ABOUT HIS DICK. And Hayden replied “yeah so I’m pretty sensitive down there. Especially the tip.”

They were asking other TMI questions but I can’t remember the entire dream. At one point he was describing his length. And then he was asked about his other questions about his sex like and was like “uhhh, I have a daughter, and a partner (Rachel)” not wanting to reveal more out of respect for them.

Can’t recall at all how it got to his point or the context, I don’t think he was still in the shower or at the interview when it happened, but I saw his dick (I was watching the interview from my old high school geography classroom?)

Anyways, I SAW HIS COCK. It was so pretty. So pink. Around 7-8 inches. The shaft was hot pink The tip was pinkish red. Omg, it was a sight.

that's so wild omg i haven't had a hayden dream in a while sadly

[dailyfeelsjournal]

You know what, I'm trying to be positive. But it seems like a pattern now. It has happened multiple times already.

N needs to be careful with what he's saying when it comes to describing his current partner. Idk if it's intentional, but his statements has repeatedly making many people not only comparing, but also tearing his past partner down. I also don't know whether this problem stems from translators error or not as I don't know Thai, but from the translations - the things he said are painting J in a bad light. And many of his fans and his current pairing's fans seems to take them that way as well, and sadly many are happy to further drag J down. They only need some kind of leeway to bring J down and N is giving them that, multiple times.

His latest statement should have ended as, "his current partner likes skinship as much or maybe more than him". If he ended his statement there, no one would think of taking things further. But from the translations, he said something along the lines of, "He feels good his current partner is into skinship because that made him feels like his current partner is not disgusted of him." This statement can paint his former partner as being disgusted of him, or even homophobic. Some of his fans are already saying that.

Some people are not into skinship, it's just the nature of things. Doesn't have to mean anything. I am also one of the people on earth who's not comfortable with skinship. Doesn't mean I am disgusted or anything, it just made me uncomfortable. That's all. I'm sure it's the same with most people including J. Why the need to even bring liking skinship and disgust in the same statement?

I'm seriously so disappointed. Maybe N didn't mean it to sound that way, but it already did to many people. And it's not the first time either that he did this. DMD needs to teach him some proper PR skills IMO.

J never once mentioned anything that could bring N down, ever. He's been minding his own business, and yet people keep coming at him.

I've been neutral and ready to support N with his works and also his current pairing from the moment NJ separated, but N is making it difficult for me to be supportive of him. I can let it go if it happens once, or maybe even twice. But that doesn't seem to be the case. Idk if I'm being overly sensitive or what. But that's how I see it.

[fawnforgold]

Pairing: Rhinedottir x Gn!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dark Content, Rhinedottir uses She/Her Pronouns, Reader uses No Pronouns, Abusive Relationship, Abuse/Assault, Rhinedottir is a bitch (affectionate), Gender Neutral Reader, Human Experimentation, Manipulation, Less than 1k idk i wrote this in tumblr drafts lmao.

A/n: Okay, so I am writing a longer Rhine thing but for now I needed to get this out of my brain and into the wild. A quick forewarning, Rhine in this is very much made with my personal headcanons in mind so just please be aware of that. I know she hasn't made an official appearance but with how much we've heard about her in lore i cannot stop myself from being obsessed. Please, make sure you read all the warnings before reading. Thanks!

Tagging: @auphelia

Impatient. Chatty. Annoying. These are just some of the words Rhine would use to describe you. There were no buts, just Rhine and her disgust which permeated the walls of her lab. She looked over her notes again, and again, until she’d concluded that she was indeed dissatisfied with the work you both had done. Well, her work, but you were willing enough. Sadly as much as she loathed the idea of rethinking her strategy, she had no other choice.

In the meantime Rhine had no option but to map out what needed to be done and with what. As she thought it out in her mind, connecting dots that others would find irrelevant, her ears grew warm from the surrounding buzz of the room. The lack of sound often seemed the loudest at times to some. Although Rhine would disagree. The empty air was needed, a necessary measure. While others found comfort in idle chit chat she saw it nothing more than a distraction. Talking often got in the way of more important things, such as moments like this.

The silence was nice, forgiving even, but of course, you had to open that trap of yours. She nearly lost her composure listening to your mindless chatter sometimes. Of course her best test subject would be the most troublesome of them all. At times she wished she’d make a mistake—an impossible yet comforting thought—and “accidentally” end the experiment early. Never mind how utterly unlikely that would be. It’s that thought which was ripped from her upon hearing you ask another loud and idiotic question.

“What are you doing, Miss.Rhine?” Your voice is sweet with an ugly aftertaste.

She ignores you but her eye twitches.

Absolutely frustrating.

You press further, asking why she’s ignoring you, and it isn’t long before she’s letting out a growl.

She drops her clipboard and lunges a hand towards your face, forcing your gaze at hers. Her long, dirty nails dig into your cheeks causing them to hurt just enough to shut you up.

“I will cut out your tongue if you do not silence it.” She snapped.

Silence finally thickened the surrounding air, staining a reminder into your throat as you swallowed hard. Rhine was usually patient, something she had to force herself to be after many years with you, but you had a way of testing her limits. Your voice was just one of her many irritants. She scoffed and let go of your face roughly, recklessly throwing back your head till it hit the surface behind you. Finally, she could get back to the task at hand, she thought to herself.

Sadly, she made the mistake of glancing over at your teary eyed face. You averted your eyes the instant hers locked onto yours. You sniffled and flinched as she moved her hand to pinch her nose. God, you were so fucking insufferable. It was always something with you. Well, she very well couldn't continue her work if she didn't have a proper subject.

Reluctantly she stood up and scooped you up into her arms and sighed loudly. "Stop crying."

You began to cry harder and she groaned out loud. Rocking you in her arms she stood still aside from the very mechanical rocking movements. Rhine had better things to do than coddle you, she couldn't let herself get into the habit of spoiling you. No, that would be most troublesome. It was only a few moments before you were a puddle in her arms, quiet and reserved. She could finally get back to the job at hand. Just as she started reading over her notes, again, she caught herself scowling down at you.

She tightened her jaw, grinding down on her teeth. Had she gone soft? Weak in the knees for some nobody. The mere idea left a sour taste in her mouth. Had Rhine finally fallen from grace? No, such things she reassured herself. Besides, much work was to be done and she very well couldn't be bothered to dwell on useless worries such as that. For now she supposed it was alright, it was keeping you quiet, after all. I suppose. She was not motherly by any means, but she could at least pretend long enough to shut you up.